mrs. griffith

anonymous asked:

i was talking to my algebra teacher about the cottingley fairies and he's just like 'oh, i follow a humor blog from arthur conan doyle's perspective that jokes about that' and im just,,, hi mr griffiths,,,,


Miniminter Imagine: Mr. Minter

Summary: Y/N has been teaching at St. Peter’s School for three years now. Mr. Minter (or Simon Minter) is the new teacher at the school and Y/N is forced to show him where his department is. 

Warnings: mention of the ‘s’ word (no i don’t mean swearing i mean the place kids got to during the day haha).. I think that’s it?

Requested: nope

Rating: 10+ (will be swearing if i make another part)

A/N: Hey. a Simon imagine! and no St Peter’s isn’t my school - it’s just a random school i came up with. Y/L/N: Your Last Name. PE: Physical Education (sports/gym - whatever). This part is in Y/N’s perspective. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :). (sorry it’s short)

~Beth <3


As you packed up for your first lesson of the day, you hear a knock. “Come in” you chirped. To your surprise, the head teacher, Mr Griffiths walked in, closely followed by what seemed to be either a very tall, lanky student or a new teacher. “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N, this is Mr. Simon Minter. He will be joining us, however will be in the PE department.” Mr Griffiths said, signalling this ‘Simon Minter’ to walk in to your classroom. “Hello, I’m Simon. Or as you’ll hear around school: the coolest teacher ever!” he chuckled. You laughed a little bit, “I’m Y/N, or as you’ll hear around Ms. Y/L/N - the legend” you both laughed. “Ms. Y/L/N, I have to go to a meeting now, would you be able to show Mr. Minter to the PE department?” he asked, as he checked his watch.

“Sure, I have a free period now anyways so what better thing to do than show him round?!” you exclaim. You both walked out the classroom together. It wouldn’t be a lie if you said he wan’t that bad looking, he was pretty nice. You were surprised on how small he made you feel. 

As you were walking down the corridor, you felt a pair of eyes on you. “Can I help you Mr. Minter?” you asked, quite sharply to say the least. “ sorry..” he brushed his neck awkwardly. We carried on walking down the corridor but we are stopped by, oh for God’s sake. Ms. Sarah Smith. Better known as Slutty Sarah, always flirting with the new teachers. “Hey, I’m Sarah, I haven’t seen you around before? What’s your name handsome?” she flipped her hair, a clear indication that she’s flirting. You rolled your eyes in disgust. “Simon.” he said bluntly.

“Well Simon, I shall hope to see you around.” she winked as she walked past you both. “Is she always like this Y/N?” he asked, smirking. 

“Yeah, she does it with every new teacher.” you laugh. You both carried on walking to the PE department. As you were walking past the other classrooms, you felt the pair of eyes on you, once again. “Mr. Minter would you quit staring at me!” you snap, heat forming at your cheeks.

“I’m sorry Ms. Y/L/N, you’re just very pretty that’s all…” he mumbled. For the rest of the journey, neither one of you spoke. You could feel the awkwardness in the air, as if someone made a perfume: “Le Awkward” and sprayed everywhere.

The journey felt like forever. We finally reached the PE department. “So this is where you’ll probably spend most of your time here. Changing rooms are on your left and the office is on the right. Gym is up the stairs on the right. The tennis courts and the football fields are just behind that door. The rest of the department will show you the rest.” you said, walking back towards the door you both came in. “Y/N wait.” you turn around seeing him looking very red. “Y/N let me take you out for a meal tonight, I would really like to get to know you better.” his blue orbs glow with excitement. How could you not refuse that? But before you could say anything, the school bell rang. The sound of a stamped of children came out of the doors. You waited for the gathering of the children to pass when you made your move. “We’ll have to see Mr. Minter.” you smile as you turned your back and walked away.

/-/-/ Final Note From Me /-/-/

Hi, this took forever to write and I’m possibly thinking about writing about a part two? I really enjoyed making this imagine and I might make another part. Thank y’all for the support, it means so much…I’m sorry it’s so short…Let me know what y'all think? Part 2?

~Beth <3

  • Aaron: Mrs Griffith was pretty pleased to see you today.
  • Liv: Now I've got a shedload of work to catch up on. Great!
  • Aaron: Best get on with it, eh? And tonight is games night. I'll wipe the floor with you.
  • Robert: Liv!
  • Liv: Get lost! And you, you big slapper.
  • Robert: She knows?
  • Liv: Of course. Look at the state of her. I always wondered why you were so nice to me.
  • Rebecca: Liv, it's not like that.
  • Liv: Yeah, all right.
  • Aaron: Liv, come on. Just leave it.
  • Liv: I bet you thought it was Christmas when Aaron went to prison, didn't you? All you had to do was worm your way into his pants.
  • Robert: That's enough, Liv.
  • Liv: And obviously she made sure she got pregnant straight away cos that's what slappers like her do.
  • Rebecca: Look, I know this must have come as a bit of a shock -
  • Liv: Who gets pregnant without wanting it? You've not heard of contraception?
  • Aaron: Liv, I think they've got it.
  • Liv: You only had to wait a couple of months for him and you couldn't even do that. Aaron needed you. He loved you. You were supposed to be there for him while I was away and you do this?
  • Robert: I'm not gonna make any excuses.
  • Liv: He deserved better than this. We both did.
  • Robert: I know. (walks off with Rebecca)
  • Liv: How can you stand it?
  • Aaron: Because it is what it is, Liv. She's pregnant and he's got to live with that now. What he does it's his business.
Better Off As Lovers (Philip x Reader) (Pt. 2)

Summary: You run away with Philip


Part One


Dearest Father,

I, in no way, meant to hurt you. As much as it pains me to leave the only life I have ever known, I must. If I stay with you, I will go mad. I cannot live as though I am just your property. I am so much more than that, and I pray that you will realize this sooner rather than later. I am unbelievably upset that I have to leave you like this, but I cannot only blame myself. You forced me to marry a man whom I could never love. You refused to let me marry the man I truly love, for that, I have to leave you. Philip and I plan to elope in the coming days. I will you could be there, but I know you would never allow it. You would tell me that I am being foolish for marrying him, but this is my life; I have my own mistakes to make.

I hope that you will be able to understand why I left. Instead of being angry, please try to get along with Secretary Hamilton. You both only want what is best for this country, but you both refuse to listen to each other. Only if you are able to resolve your differences, Philip and I will return home.

With much love,

(Y/N) Jefferson

You put down your quill and fold the note. Slowly, you approach your father’s study and set the note on his desk, careful not to touch anything that looks important.

Your maid smiles at you as she hands you a bag of food and a few, simple dresses. You give her a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”

She shakes her head slowly. “Go. He’s waiting for you. I’ll make sure your father reads the note. Be safe.” She gives your shoulder a quick squeeze before you walk out. You go over to the stables and take your horse, praying that she won’t cause too much of a fuss.

You stop at the butcher a block away from the Hamiltons. As soon as you see Philip, you tear up. This is really happening. He notices right away and takes your hand. “Dearest, what’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath. “Nothing. It’s just-I never thought that I would do this.”

He looks up at you. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah, I do.”

He smiles and climbs onto the horse with you, taking the reins.

Keep reading

On November 6th, 1817, Princess Charlotte of Wales died at Claremont House after suffering through a torturous fifty hour labour that resulted in a stillborn son.

Just after midnight, Charlotte felt sick. Her pulse was racing and there was ringing in her ears. She vomited and brought up the camphor julep with the broth. Then she quitened for a few minutes and her pulse-rate lowered. And then she clutched her stomach and cried out, ‘Oh, what a pain! It is all here!’ Mrs Griffiths rushed into the dressing room and woke Sir Richard Croft. When he reached Charlotte moments later Croft found that she was very cold and breathing with difficulty, and she was bleeding again. But, although the accepted and often successful treatment for a post-partum haemorrhage such as this was the application of cold water, Croft decided to warm the patient up by applying hot water bottles and blankets to her abdomen. The bleeding continued. Croft then sent a footman to bring  Baillie and Sims. Baillie decided that what the Princess needed was a good dose of wine and brandy. While he was administering them, Croft went off in search of Stockmar.

Stockmar woke to find Croft holding his hand. The Princess was in danger. The Prince must be told. Stockmar dressed and went to wake Leopold, but the Prince was so deeply asleep that it took time to wake him, and then he was so drowsy that he barely understood what was being said. After about a quarter of an hour a footman came. Dr Baillie wanted Dr Stockmar to see the Princess. For a moment Stockmar hesitated. He was reluctant to get involved. Then he went. When he entered the bedroom, Baillie was still trying to administer wine. The Princess was tossing from side to side, breathing heavily and obviously in great pain. ‘Here comes an old friend of yours’, said Baillie.

Charlotte stretched out her left hand, grabbed Stockmar’s and pressed it ‘vehemently’. ‘They have made me tipsy’, she said. While he held her hand, Stockmar surreptitously took her pulse. ‘It was very quick; the beats now full now weak, now intermittent.’

After another quarter of an hour there was a rattle in Charlotte’s throat. Stockmar went off to get Leopold. But as he crossed the breakfast room he heard Charlotte shouting beyond the closed door behind him: ‘Stocky! Stocky!’

Stockmar went back. Charlotte did not see him. She turned on her face, drew up her knees to her chest and fell silent. Stockmar took her cold hand and searched for a pulse. There was none. ‘The flower of Brunswick’ had faded. ‘The Daughter of England’ was dead.

Charlotte & Leopold: The True Story of The Original People’s Princess – James Chambers


Celeste: Who, little old me?

Benji: Come on, I’ve seen the way you can be sometimes. 

Celeste: You’re right, I have been a little ridiculous these past few weeks.

Benji: A little ridiculous?

Celeste: All right, fine, a lot ridiculous. But I know it’ll work out in the end because you’ve always got my back, little brother.

Chapter 2: Buster and the Wife

It wasn’t going away this time. How irritating, Buster Keaton thought to himself as he looked at his own visage in the bathroom mirror, gently touching his bruised cheek. At least passing it off as an accident at the studio would work. Most people wouldn’t ask twice.

To say things weren’t well between Buster and his wife Natalie Talmadge was an understatement. They hadn’t been happy in marriage in a few years, though admitting it aloud was something neither of them would do. Only one of them was trying to do something about this, and nothing he tried would work. Giving up, Buster thought, would do neither of them any good, but patience wore thin.

Keep reading

Today is my first day of teaching music lessons to make a little extra money and my first student is one of my professors’ niece and she is only a few years younger than me, but she is terrible. Absolutely terrible. She cannot even do the simple piano exercises, when they were just simple! Her fingers were so stiff, they were like made of wood. And she was so slow. Why did she even want to play the piano? She is horrible. And then I got mad and she cried and left. 

If this is what it was like for Mom and Mrs. Chapman and Mr. Griffiths to teach me when I was young, then I should probably send them flowers because this is not easy, nope.