#SPECIFICALLY THE TEACHER

[rickety-house]

IF I DONR GET MY DAILY DOSE OF NEW LITTLE NIGHTMARES FANART EVERYDAY SOMEONE WILL DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[maddie-grove]

As someone who’s living with a middle school social studies teacher, all the posts along the lines of “why did we never learn about this historical event in school” just make me go “because your teacher was supposed to cover all of US history in one year, and they didn’t get to the Revolutionary War until Halloween because they were urged to slow down the progression of the lessons because a more senior teacher was running behind, and they didn’t get to the Civil War until Valentine’s Day because the school kept scheduling every special event during social studies because there’s no end-of-grade testing for that subject, and they didn’t get to WWI until May because they were sick for a few days and the substitute couldn’t do much more than babysit, and now they’re having to do the entire Cold War in two days, so that’s why you didn’t hear about the lesbian inventor of the circus peanut. They would have loved to tell you about the lesbian inventor of the circus peanut!”

[cicada-heart]

bonaventure cemetery 🤍

august 2024

[queruloustea]

vitedmins

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[hootgrowlbears]

The experience of being singled out by a teacher as unexceptional since day one. Trying something new and getting endlessly questioned about the why, the how. For months, going to class and giving up on doing well because it's not like this teacher ever cared about you anyway. Being berated in front of your whole class for your slipping grades and not knowing what to do about it.

And then the flip. In the middle of the year apparently something you did was impressive. Your teacher is friendly with you in a way they never were, and your sudden success was all a part of their plan, their method. "This is what I was trying to tell you, and you finally got it!".

You convince yourself of that too, grudgingly. It all worked out. That teacher really did know best after all. All that stuff at the beginning of the year, all that stuff for the two years before that, that was fine. It was all part of the plan. The humiliation and the stress and the nights spent wondering "What am I not getting about this?", were all necessary.

It's time for teacher evaluations. All fives.

[southern--downpour]

totally, 100% safe and normal public park :)

(had a class assignment to make a travel poster and decided it was actually a great excuse to turn in marble hornets fanart for a grade)

[ninjasmudge]

I noticed the Lamb was bleeding (I'm assuming blood and not tears) from their eyes in your latest post. Is that just a thing they do in this AU? Did the Fox do something? Or is it 'head maid privileges' bestowed by the Red Crown?

the thing is... in the maid au, lamb is only at the school bc they were desperate for money bc ratau was dying.

they agreed to be a test for an experimental treatment which was really just the red crown messing around with rituals in exchange for the cash to pay for treatments. part of the deal was that they attend the maid school so the crown could keep an eye on them to see what happens. theyre only there bc it keeps them busy.

lamb doesnt remember any of the rituals they underwent (mushrooms), they know somethings wrong but dont know what. the only thing they have to go off is flashes of the same red nightmares every night

they usually wake screaming

[boltwrites]

I haven’t recently thought about Hugh Jackman but this Movie has recently given me hunger™️

Reader/Logan fic hurt/comfort where Logan knew reader in his world (but reader never met Logan in their world) and tries to ignore them out of guilt but reader is persistently trying to be friends w him. Eventually Logan opens up about what happened in his world with reader…

A/N: so uh. i originally wrote this as headcanons in bullet point format but tumblr didn't like it so i had to redo some shit and uh. anyway. it's not my normal fic quality so i'm sorry for that.

in other author's note news - lmk if you want the recipe.

You smiled at Logan across the table as Wade rambled on about something or other. You didn't know him - well, other than what Wade had spouted off about him before inviting you to this make-birthday party after the first one went to shit - but you wanted to.

You didn't exactly know why you wanted that. Maybe just curiosity? Wade did say he'd be living with him for the foreseeable future, and as his neighbor, you should introduce yourself and be friendly, right?

But it was kind of more than that. He was hot. definitely, very hot. Maybe not your usual type - you weren't typically into older men. But there was just something about him. Something magnetic.

Either way, he'd definitely avoided you at that party. spent most of his time sulking in the corner, talking to Al or sometimes Colossus.

You'd walked up to him, smile on your face, and introduced yourself. He'd barely looked at you.

"Nice to meet you," he'd replied, his tone gruff and dismissive. By the way he spoke it sounded less like it was nice to meet you and more like you were inconveniencing him with your mere existence. Like he'd been dreading the idea of you coming over and introducing yourself.

"Wade says you helped stop the time ripper," you tried, willing yourself to ignore how shitty he was treating you. Wade had mentioned that this man - Logan - was a little rough around the edges. rude. A drunk, even. Maybe he just wasn't good with people in general.

"Yep," he replied, shooting you a glare over the glass of - was that pure fucking bourbon? - he was sipping out of. You tried your best not to let it get to you - but you also knew how to take a hint. He wasn't interested in talking. That shot straight to your stomach like a bullet made of embarrassment and guilt, but whatever.

It's fine. you were younger than him by a decent margin. He could probably tell just by the look in your eyes that you were interested in him as more than just a friend. He probably just wanted to shut that shit down as quickly and efficiently as possible. You weren't gonna blame him for that. You've done the same for several weird men in the past - including Wade, before he got the hint and the two of you became fast friends. You weren't necessarily interested in being his post-Vanessa rebound, and he respected that.

So, that's fine, you'd just be nice to Logan. He could be your friend, too. He was rooming with Wade and Al, after all. It would be good to make friends with him.

"Hey!" You smiled when he opened the door a few days after the party. You stood there, hands currently occupied by a tin foil-wrapped package.

"What do you want?" Logan asked, looking you up and down with more paranoia than you'd expected. You thought that maybe he was just uncomfortable with your advances, but this time, it was like he was searching for something. What, you didn't know.

"I just wanted to give you this," you replied, thrusting your gift into his hands - the smooth glass of the pie mold contrasting with the brief brush of his calloused hands. You tried not to shiver.

"It's a pie," you continued on, even as Logan stared off into the distance, at something you couldn't see. "When I saw what you were drinking at the party, I thought you might like it. It's a family recipe. Pumpkin pie with a shitload of bourbon. As a welcome to the neighborhood kind of thing."

You offered him an awkward sort of smile, a little shrug. He blinked, snapping himself out of his thousand yard stare only to glare at you like you'd just offered him a dead animal instead of a home-baked pie. Your blood briefly turned to ice as you wondered if maybe this man was actually sober and you'd mistake the iced tea in his glass as pure liquor. As if Wade ever had that sort of shit in his apartment.

"I-" he looked down at the pie, then up at you, taking a breath as if he wanted to say more, but instead shaking his head, like he was knocking some bit of cobwebs or old dust loose. "Thanks."

He nodded at you in acknowledgement, then slammed the door in your face. Great.

Wade wasn't much help either. He'd returned the pie dish and you'd wrung your hands and asked him if you'd done something that made Logan hate you. The dish was empty, but your stomach churned at the thought of the man just taking a knife and scraping the whole thing into the trash. You'd even made the crust by hand, too.

"Oh, fuck no!" Wade scoffed, shaking his head. "Are you kidding me? Listen, if there's anything I know about our not-so-furry friend, it's that he can put up with a metric fuckton of asinine shit. I mean - he's living with me! Do you know how many times he's used his little clawsies to hole-punch my organs? Like - so many!" Wade waved his arms for emphasis. "If he really hated you, he wouldn't just sulk around about it like a teenager - no! He'd hurt you! Like the kind of teenager that would shoot up their local high school!"

You rolled your eyes at Wade, but you knew that's just how he was. No filter, all idiocy. "Did he - did he at least try the pie," you asked, voice a little more hopeful than you'd meant for it to sound.

"Try it - fuck! That man has full-tilt sprinted at me on all fours and I've never seen him so animalistic. He was eating that pie like it would crawl inside his dick itself and pull out an orgasm. I swear - and may Thor strike me dead and then mourn my fried corpse - that he actually growled when I asked for a slice."

You didn't believe Wade for a second, but fuck. at least that made you feel better. You offered him your thanks and a sweet smile as you received your dish and promised to make him something "Wolvie" wouldn't hoard when you brought something over next. You promised to try your best.

Really, what you'd try your best at was winning this shy Wolverine over to your good side. You didn't want to force him to be your friend, obviously - but if you had made a bad impression, even if that impression was solely based on the fact that you were also friends with Wade - you wanted to make it right.

So you did everything you could. Baked and cooked and offered the results up whenever you could afford the extra ingredients. Made sure to snatch up any packages bound for Wade's apartment so your notorious Amazon thief didn't have the chance to. You even dog-sat that nasty looking creature Wade had adopted - she was very sweet, but you had nightmares about that tongue.

It all came to a head, one day. One day when you almost brained yourself walking up the stairs.

You'd been holding grocery bags - supplies to make your perfected mac and cheese recipe - head down as you ascended the steps. That was, until you ran into what felt like a brick wall. Or, an iron one. Your shoulder smacked whatever it was and you jolted backwards, gasping as you dropped the bag you were holding to cling to the railing-

Only to catch and grip tight at thin fabric as a firm, steel-strong arm wrapped around your waist. You finally caught your breath, lungs filling and then immediately vacating as you locked eyes with none other than Logan.

"Fuck."

Both of you said it. But you gasped, it, breathless and dreamy. Meanwhile he spat it, like he knew something like this would happen, and he'd been planning his whole day to avoid it.

As soon as you found your footing again, he threw his arm away from you like you'd burned him. Like your very existence was offensive to him, somehow. He manages to spin you around as he let go of your waist, disorient you as you sputtered, glancing after him.

The stairs were littered with groceries - blocks of cream cheese, butter, cookies for the crust - fresh fruit for the filling. A bag of sugar had exploded, its contents dusting the next landing like snow. All of this - ingredients you'd bought, with money you'd worked your ass off to afford - and the man you'd been trying to impress stepped in that puddle of sugar, granules crackling under his boot.

You damn near saw red.

"Logan!" you snapped, your voice harsh, crisp as it echoed through the stairwell. Fuck. You hated using that voice - but it made him freeze on the spot.

He turned to look at you - eyes wide, as if he was some child who'd been caught in a lie. But also - that gaze was knowing, somehow. Like he knew what you used that voice for. What it meant for him.

You sighed, tried to regain your composure. It was fine. You were fine. When you opened your eyes, you addressed him with even, annunciated words:

"Why do you hate me?"

Even as you tried your best to dull your voice of emotion, it slipped through. A waved of your throat, the hint of water in your eyes. You hated it - this man didn't hold that power over you. You just - you were used to being liked. That's all.

Logan looked at you like you'd shot him.

"What?" he asked, just as breathless as you felt. You thought you detected just a hint of hurt in that syllable.

"It-it's just-" you tried not to let yourself waver, but you stuttered as you spoke. "I've been trying to just - to be your friend, to be a good neighbor. Like I am to Wade, like we - we hang out, sometimes. But you- you're just - I feel like you've been kind of rude to me."

You sounded like a child.

Logan took a breath. A deep one, as if this were a confrontation that had been a long time coming (which it was) and that he was prepared to have a conversation he'd dreaded (which was really what got you - if he really just disliked you, why would he care enough to prepare something? What was going on?)

He turned around - gathered up all your dropped groceries - and started walking up the stairs, passing you and continuing his way to your shared floor. He'd previously been on his way out, so you didn't do much except stare at him until he was nearly half a flight ahead of you and your brain finally switched on again.

He led you to the apartment he shared with Wade, nodded as he held the door open for you. It felt strange - you hadn't been inside the apartment since the party. You'd always felt too nervous to ask Wade if he wanted to continue your usual game nights. Too intimidated by Logan.

He set the groceries on the counter, and practically sank into the couch. You perched on the chair opposite it, still not quite believing that he had let you in. That you were going to talk. He breathed in deeply, steadying himself before he spoke, eyes still glued to the floor.

"I'm not from here. 'M sure Wade told you that much," he glanced up, only to nod in your direction. You nodded back.

"My world - timeline, whatever the fuck - I killed it. Everyone I loved, everyone I cared about - they all died. Because of me."

You sat in rapt attention as his shoulders tensed, his jaw flexed. This was a lot, for him. You didn't really understand why he was telling you about it, but it was important to him. So you listened.

"Every timeline is different. At least, that's what the science says. Ones that are closer together - might have the same people show up at around the same time. Might be - people I knew. People I - cared about."

Logan glanced up, again. Caught your eyes with his and swallowed harshly.

"You're - one of them. One of the people I lost."

"Oh," you breathed, because now it all made sense. The strange looks, the curt conversations - even the thousand yard stare. You were triggering his memories of a horrible time of his life with every step you took in his direction. And you didn't even know it.

"I'm so sorry," You whispered, trying your best to quell any tears that might form sympathetically. No wonder he kept pushing you away. You were a walking PTSD trigger.

"No-" he gasped, shaking his head as he stood up, like he'd been shocked upright. "No, it's not -"

He cleared his throat, shook his head like he was trying to find the right words.

"I know I was pushing you away. And it is - hard, to see you again. But - I want to see you. I want to get to know you, again," if you didn't know any better, you'd think that there were tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

"You made the pie, you know. The pumpkin pie. I was only there for the one Thanksgiving, but I remember it. You swore you'd cooked off all the liquor, but Xavier made you promise only the adults would get a slice."

He grinned at you, then - wide, real. It was pretty, that smile. You could imagine recognizing it, in another life.

"None of the kids got any. Too good for them, anyway," he took a step towards you, and you rose from your seat, legs only a little wobbly.

"That's good," you breathed, voice as shaky as your knees. "I use vodka in the crust, too."

"I know," Logan grinned, a hand grasping yours, his smile somehow wider than before.

You wondered, as you strode forward into a crushing hug against his chest, if it felt so right in every universe.

[cyphyree]

FREE RICE - Official UN World Food Program free nonprofit game that Feeds those in Need!! https://freerice.com/

What does it do?

You play simple trivia games in-browser, and for every correct answer you will help raise "rice" (meaning money to go into emergency relief such as rice and other foods) to help feed those most in need.

Freerice officially works with the United Nations World Food Program (see: https://unric.org/en/freerice/ ), which serves, as of writing:

State of Palestine

Afghanistan

Ethiopia

Ukraine

Sudan

Yemen

See more listed here: https://www.wfp.org/emergencies, as linked from Freerice

How does it work?

Private sponsors now match the rice grains earned in the game. Every question you answer correctly earns 10 grains of rice, triggering a financial payment to WFP. The donations generated through Freerice help support WFP's work in emergencies around the world. (source: https://freerice.com/frequently-asked-questions )

100% of all funds generated via Freerice go to the World Food Programme. Freerice does not earn or keep any money it raises.(source: https://freerice.com/about-us)

Important Notes!

If nothing shows up when you hit "PLAY GAME," try enabling cookies to reveal the site shown above

Making an account is OPTIONAL, not having one does not lessen your impact

Can be used towards virtual community service (download a certificate to fill out yourself)

Freerice has no time limit and perfect for using in conjunction with arab.org, a single click website for various good causes

[telekitnetic-art]

🐉🪵 happy lunar new year! 🌘🐉

have a wood dragon formline that became an impulse color design assignment for class. Also did two variations of gold texture because I wasn't sure which one I liked better.

[lotus-pear]

i think you guys are onto smth..

i unironically got invested in this HELP

[aithusarosekiller]

PoA Remus always having a vase of stargazer lilies on his desk that seem to be magically preserved

Him also carrying around a fountain pen he'd carved a hoof print, rat print, and dog print into back at school but the dog paw has been scratched off for a long time now

[panharmonium]

I'm re-reading Sai's intro arc for fic reasons and got momentarily distracted by the sequence of events wherein Yamato gets assigned to Team Kakashi, because it unfolds like this:

Tsunade refuses to cave to the Elders' demand that she keep Naruto cooped up in the village

The Elders agree to this, but only if she allows them (aka Danzo-by-proxy) to choose who will fill Kakashi and Sasuke's spots on the team

Danzo comes in and chooses Sai specifically, but then makes the enormous mistake of giving Tsunade only a general set of recommendations for the last member's qualifications

after which Tsunade turns around and does the absolute funniest thing she could possibly have done:

It's hilariously tempting to think of her doing this as a deliberate fuck-you to Danzo, but it's implied in the text that she doesn't even know about Yamato's Root background - she spends the next few panels explaining to Yamato who and what Danzo/the Foundation are, as if he wouldn't know. (Logically, I recognize that this is probably just because Yamato's Root backstory hadn't been conceived of yet, but in-universe it gives the impression that she doesn't know where he comes from):

It's certainly plausible to read this as her carefully talking around the issue with Yamato - her "surely you've heard of him" could be one of those things where they both know what she means but aren't saying it out loud (due to concerns about surveillance, plausible deniability on her part, etc), so how much she knows is ultimately up for interpretation. I'm not rigidly committed to either read, though, because either way is equally entertaining to me - her picking Yamato as a deliberate fuck-you to Danzo is obviously satisfying, but her NOT doing it as a deliberate fuck-you to Danzo is just as funny, like - we know, canonically, that she picks Yamato because he has Wood Style, and probably also because he worked with Kakashi for so long, but for her to use those completely unrelated criteria and wind up unwittingly selecting the absolute LAST person Danzo would ever have wanted to be Sai's commanding officer is SO hilarious to me.

Either way, I love when Danzo comes into her office to ask if she finished picking the Black Ops commander, and she's like "yeah :) i did :) guess who"

danzo: you better not have chosen somebody like your grandfather tsunade, who chose her grandfather's literal genetic clone: >:)

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Monotropism: Exploring the Fascinating World of Focused Interests

The Autistic Teacher

[jumjum-crafts]

We as a fandom forgot about ILY.COLIN too quickly

Non-corrected ver undercut

This is the first piece I've placed lots of efforts into in a while!! Feel free to zoom in, tumblr tends to eat the quality :]