#nursery class age limit

[swarrnimschool]

Early Education Trends: How Nursery Enrollment is Evolving

Exciting changes are all around us, especially when it comes to nursery school admissions. As parents, educators, and policymakers place increasing importance on the foundational years of children's education, the approach to enrolling kids in nursery schools is evolving. This shift is not just about when and how children begin their educational journey but also about what kind of environments and learning experiences they are introduced to. Let’s delve into these trends to understand how they affect nursery enrollment and what this means for parents and educators.

Understanding the Shift in Nursery Enrollment

Nursery school is the first formal step in a child’s education, where the seeds of learning are planted. The nursery class age limit typically starts at around 3 to 4 years, setting the stage for early childhood education. This early start is crucial, laying the groundwork for lifelong learning, behavior, and health.

Growing Emphasis on Early Years

In recent years, there has been a growing recognition of the importance of early childhood education. Studies show that children who attend high-quality nursery programs are more likely to do well in school, attend college, and succeed in their careers. This understanding has led to a significant shift in how parents and societies approach nursery enrollment.

The Rise of Holistic Education

There's a noticeable move towards holistic education in nursery schools, where the focus is not just on academics but on developing children's physical, emotional, and social skills. This approach aims to create a well-rounded learning environment that supports all areas of a child’s development.

Technology Integration

Technology is becoming integral to nursery education, with digital tools and resources used to enhance learning. From interactive apps that teach basic math and language skills to digital storytelling and problem-solving games, technology is innovatively enriching the nursery learning experience.

Flexible Enrollment Options

Many nursery schools are now offering more flexible enrollment options to accommodate the varying needs of families and their young ones. These include part-time attendance, varied start dates throughout the year, and customizable schedules that fit around the family's lifestyle. Such flexibility makes nursery education more accessible and less stressful for parents and children.

The Role of Nursery School Admission Processes

Nursery school admission processes are evolving to reflect these trends. Schools are adopting more comprehensive admission criteria beyond age and readiness for school. They look at the child’s holistic development, interaction with peers, curiosity, and eagerness to learn. This approach ensures that the nursery environment is tailored to meet the diverse needs of all students, fostering a more inclusive and supportive learning community.

Moreover, with the rise in demand for quality early education, parents are encouraged to start the nursery school admission process earlier. This proactive approach helps families navigate the competitive admission landscape, ensuring they can secure a spot in the program that best fits their child’s needs.

Swarrnim School: A Pioneer in Early Education

Swarrnim School stands out as a pioneer in the evolving landscape of nursery education. With its innovative approach to learning and development, Swarrnim School embodies the latest trends in early education, making it a prime choice for parents seeking the best start for their children's educational journey through nursery school admissions.

Embracing Holistic Development

At Swarrnim School, the focus is on nurturing the whole child. The curriculum is designed to promote academic excellence and physical, emotional, and social growth. Through various hands-on activities, creative play, and exploration, children at Swarrnim School develop a love for learning that lasts a lifetime.

Leveraging Technology

Understanding the role of technology in modern education, Swarrnim School integrates the latest digital tools and resources into its teaching methods. This approach ensures that children are proficient in basic academic skills and familiar with the technology that will be a significant part of their future education and careers.

Flexible and Inclusive Admissions

Recognizing families' diverse needs, Swarrnim School offers flexible nursery enrollment options. The school understands that every child is unique and strives to accommodate individual preferences and requirements during the nursery school admission process. This inclusivity and flexibility make Swarrnim School a preferred choice for parents who value a personalized approach to education.

Conclusion

The landscape of nursery education is evolving, emphasizing holistic development, technology integration, and flexible enrollment options. These trends reflect a broader understanding of the importance of early childhood education and its impact on future success.

Swarrnim School, with its innovative approach to learning and development, stands at the forefront of these trends. By offering a nurturing environment that supports all aspects of a child's growth, Swarrnim School is setting a new standard for excellence in early education. As we look to the future, the evolution of nursery enrollment and the role of pioneering institutions like Swarrnim School will continue to shape the educational landscape, ensuring that our youngest learners are equipped with the knowledge, skills, and attitudes needed to thrive in an ever-changing world.

[avatarchic]

TWENTY-SIX MONTHS

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.

— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader

— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au

— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch

— word count. 8.2k

— requested? no

— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))

Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.

You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.

For you, he was everything.

For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.

He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.

The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.

After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.

The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.

You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.

Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.

For his sake.

You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.

As a family.

Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.

Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.

A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.

You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.

You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white. 

You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.

You didn’t know if he was alive.

The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes. 

The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him. 

You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.

Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.

Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret. 

Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.

“Da… Dada…”

You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.

“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.

The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.

While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.

“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”

“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”

“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”

You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.

You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.

Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.

Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.

Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.

The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.

The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.

He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.

He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.

“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”

Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.

You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.

As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”

Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.

“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.

Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.

“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”

His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.

And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.

“Dada…!”

The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.

Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.

Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.

“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”

Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.

Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.

Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”

You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.

Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.

“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you. 

The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.

He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.

His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.

When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.

“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is. 

Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”

You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.

“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.

“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.

Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”

With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”

“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child.  “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.

“Shoto, no,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”

“Then why?” he breathes.

You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”

Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”

“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.

After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.

Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.

Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”

You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”

“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.

“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”

Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.

Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.

“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.

“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.

With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.

“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”

He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”

You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”

Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”

Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”

“Shoto—”

“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”

You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”

“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”

Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”

“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”

With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”

Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”

“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”

You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.

Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”

You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.

Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.

His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.

Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.

Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.

“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory. 

You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.

A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements. 

You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.

His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss. 

“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently. 

Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.

“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”

Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”

When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?

He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.

When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”

“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.

Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”

Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.

Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”

Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”

He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.” 

Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply. 

“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”

“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”

His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. “Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”

Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.

His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.

Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern. 

Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”

You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows. 

“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”

Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum. 

Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.

“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.

You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.” 

Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest. 

Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.

Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”

He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.” 

His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”

Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”

Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you. 

Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”

Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”

His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.

His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you. 

Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead. 

“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”

Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.

“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”

“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”

You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”

Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.

Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”

Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”

Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”

You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.

A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[alivegirldetectiveagency]

The show gives us very little information about edwin’s life. i’m pretty sure all we know is (1) he read detective stories (2) is father would call crystal a bobtail (3) he was presumably bullied (i say presumably because the ritual could have been a first incident but i find that unlikely just cause. the severity of it)

i hope we learn a little more if we get a season 2 because i think edwins childhood would give interesting insight into him (this goes for all the characters actually) but i think we can make a lot of assumptions about what his life was like based off the time period

(disclaimer: i am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, so i apologize for any inaccuracies)(and for any typos)

this post got kinda long so the rest is under the cut

edwin lived from 1900-1916 which mostly encompasses the edwardian era (1901-1910). for the purposes of this post i will be talking as if it was all edwardian for simplicity and also because the last few years of the victorian era and the first few years after edward vii would have been very similar. i am also operating under the assumption the paynes were upper class because (1) vibes (2) edwin is very formal which would have been emphasized the most in the upper classes (3) he had the time and money to go to boarding school which still wasn’t very accessible (although education was growing in importance)

the importance of childhood was growing in the era and there was a lot more leisure time and entertainment. still, etiquette and manners were very important so there would have had the “seen and not heard” attitude towards children. in upper class families, child rearing would have been done by a nanny and not the mother. the father as head of the house would have been strict and interacted little with the children. so edwin probably saw very little of his parents while growing up even before boarding school. since edwin was a son his father might have taken him out for things like shooting/hunting but that would have been just him and his father (and brothers if he had any). also edwin does Not seem like he would have enjoyed that so i dunno if much bonding would have occurred during those outings. family time in general would be rather brief. He would have had more time spent with siblings his age since younger children would have spent most of their time in the nursery/with the nanny.

i’m going to brush past the school life part because i do not know much about it other than that he would have started at st Hilarions around 13. and that i’m pretty sure corporal punishment was used in boarding schools like it at the time? (not entirely sure on that front it depends on if the school is state sponsored) we can infer from the show that edwin did not have a Great time at school but i don’t know what the specifics would have been like

etiquette was very very important. i don’t think the edwardian era was quite as strict as the victorian era but there was still a LOT of social expectations. including the perfect posture george rexstrew does as edwin. etiquette would also include addressing everyone properly and limited affection. you also wouldn’t really touch anyone! not to get their attention or shake hands in greeting or clapping someone on the back. Self control was everything even in times of excitement or distress. Social classes were very strict although the industrial revolution created the neavue riche so social mobility was not impossible. new rich families often tried to adapt the traditions of the (aristocratic) upper class but integration was slooow. (Middle class families would adopt trends from the upper classes too). while formality was important, language in general was simplifying partially due to mass newspapers. if you’ve ever read Oliver Twist or another Dickens story, the language is very verbose and hard to follow which is par the course for victorian literature but less so for edwardian literature.

speaking of literature and entertainment we know edwin liked detective stories. he reads a max carrados story (which started in 1914) to charles and in edwin’s death flashback you see him with a detective penny/dime novel (in the scene you can read “The Aldine Tip Top Tales, High Hat Harry” and google tells me the rest of the title is “The Base Ball Detective”). Edwin probably also read Sherlock Holmes which was still popular. Growing up he might have Peter Pan/Peter and Wendy (the title changed after its initial publishing in 1904) and The Tale of Peter Rabbit (1902). And more short stories and dime novels (like the Aldine company ones) since they were getting very popular at the time. Entertainments like the Winter Gardens and Pleasure Beach in Blackpool were also growing popularity. but generally outdoor upper class entertainment would have been tennis, hunting, or racing. (fun fact the 1908 summer olympics was in london so edwin might have watched it as a child!) there also would have been a lot of dinner parties but those would have been for the parents to maintain or increase social status and not necessarily include the children.

overall edwin’s childhood probably included a lot of extravagant entertainment. He would not have spent much time with his parent so unless edwin had siblings his early childhood would have probably been lonely. canon does not suggest he really made friends while in school either.

Canon and fanon has touched on how edwin’s social skills took a hit from being in hell for 70 years (which is definitely true). But on top of just escaping hell, edwin is using knowledge/skills from a vastly different social era when he first meets charles. it must have been really jarring the first few years of being friends because charles’s ideas/experiences with friendship were WILDLY different than edwin’s

[himebushou]

A quick note about Giraffe Class!

In Episode 2, Miss Anna informs some mothers that Miri will be joining Giraffe Class:

Miri joins Giraffe Class on the 6th of February. As the Japanese school year begins in April, I thought that it would have made sense for Miri to be in a new class in later episodes.

However, in Episode 9, which takes place in August 2023, we see that Miri is now in the senior class:

Evidently, the senior class has:

1) Maintained the name 'Giraffe Class' and

2) As seen in Episode 10, maintained Miss Anna as its teacher:

We also see that Giraffe Class has an incredible teacher-to-child ratio; there are only 15 kids in the class (though I assume that Aozora Daycare is an establishment that people pay fees to — in Episode 5, one of the family's expenses is listed as 'Education').

For comparison, the teacher-to-child ratio in the UK, for children who are Miri's age, is one teacher to every 30 kids:

[Text: Reception classes in maintained schools and academies are subject to infant class size legislation. The School Admissions (Infant Class Size) Regulations 2012 limit the size of infant classes to 30 pupils per school teacher (subject to permitted exceptions) while an ordinary teaching session is conducted.]

Source: Statutory Framework for the Early Years Foundation Stage (2021); Department for Education

(This excludes support staff, but still — the stuff you discover when making a Buddy Daddies post!)

So! From my experience, infant schools around here sometimes have thematic names and kids move from one class to the next when the school year ends. For instance, a school that uses a bird-based theme might start off with something like 'Canary Class' for children in Nursery (aged 3-4); the canaries then move up to the 'Robin Class' when they're 4-5 years old (in the UK, we call that Reception). Typically, the children will have a new teacher each academic year, but there are some instances where teachers will stick with their pupils as the kids grow up.

Given how detail-oriented Buddy Daddies has been so far, I'd like to think that Miri still being in Giraffe Class wasn't just an oversight on the part of the writing team and actually a deliberate decision — though, of course, it would have been pretty disruptive to the storyline to introduce a new teacher.

(@lilyginnyblackv2 — I'm going to shamelessly tag you because I think you might have some insights on this topic! 💖)

[anxiouslyfred]

There was a Patton in a Dingy

Summary: Thomas checks a self inflating dingy works before a trip with his friends. Patton gets silly over it.

Author's note: I love Edward Lear and his limericks enough to have written my dissertation on him, how has it taken this long to write something silly based off one? The limerick I used and my idea are at the end of the story.

/\/

There was a small boating lake that Thomas’s friend had decided they should go to, and Logan had suggested getting a self inflating dingy to take, just in case something happened with the boat they would rent. It was mostly to assuage one of the many worries Virgil came up with, especially since Remus had decided to agree with all those worries being certainties.

None of that really helped him now, looking into Thomas’s living room where the dingy had already been inflated and had Roman cheerfully singing nursery rhymes in it. That was relatively expected. It wouldn’t do to have the dingy be necessary without having tested it and Roman was one to find a reason to sing at any opportunity.

The issue was the other occupant of the boat, Patton, cheering that they were afloat and drifting merrily along.

“You are not afloat at all, Patton. Do recollect that you’re on the living room floor.” Logan had said upon first hearing him.

That had Patton gasping, falling back against the sides; Something Logan was pleased to see did not disfigure them much at all. “We’re sinking? I’ll faint. I’m too young to drown.”

“Drowning doesn’t have an age limit.” Logan pinched his nose, entertained to notice that Roman instead of reacting to the overly dramatic scene was now singing ‘Kiss the Girl’. “And I repeat, you are in Thomas’s living room. There is nothing to be floating on, unless you class sitting in a dingy on solid ground to be floating.”

It didn’t help particularly, but when Virgil turned up in response to Patton’s apparent worries he smirked. “How is Roman being the less dramatic one of them?”

/\

My Idea for this Fic: Take an Edward Lear limerick and fit Sanders Sides into making it a story. It'll be nice doing that bit of chaos, maybe using one of the many animals living on a person ones + Patton.

There was an Old Man in a boat,

Who said, ‘I’m afloat! I’m afloat!’

When they said, ‘No! You ain’t!’ he was ready to faint,

That unhappy Old Man in a boat.

[owlbeastly]

Lilith's classes

Odalia used everything in her power to get Amity a place under a Coven Head's training. Though she would've preferred someone else, Lilith was the Emperor's Coven leader. Personal history or not, that was the best for the family. However, her ideas of rigid, ruthless training were a bit off...

Lilith's training was indeed tough, but when Amity got admitted, she was just a five-year-old and way under the age limit. The Head Witch knew she couldn't just use the same methods. So she got in contact with Bump to talk with some of Hexside's teachers and learn a bit from them.

Clawthorne's plan was to follow the school's curriculum, focusing on really reinforcing the basics so the child could build upon it steadily and faster, later. So, while Odalia hoped they were forcing her daughter to sit still and recite the Magic Law, something else was going on... Something like:

Nursery Rhymes! Lilith knew a thousand Nursery Rhymes that taught kids the basics of magic, history, and science. She picked the ones she considered best and would always sing them with Amity at the beginning of class, teaching her the hand gestures and what they meant. It was heartwarming to see the child learning the lyrics and following her excitedly. Lilith was scared she would be too embarrassed to do the dances and that Amity wouldn't join her, but the little girl watched her teacher with her eyes glistening and a big smile.

Drawing and painting! Lilith would bring images of the Isles for them to draw and color. She first focused on the whole Titan, then on specific parts of their body to help Amity get a better understanding of their geography and Titan biology. She also knew, as a future Abomination Coven member, Amity needed to develop geometrical and observation skills to correctly summon and build golems that looked the way she wanted them to look. It was a challenge, and most of the little girl's first drawings were an abstract mess. Lilith toned down the requirements and asked Amity to focus on basic shapes first. This helped the child greatly and soon she memorized the looks of many geographical spaces and demons.

Physical games! Body Awareness and Balance were the only subjects outside of the common school curriculum that Lilith taught, going hard on extra teachings. As someone who never had this type of specialized learning in her youth and had to teach herself later on to survive the Coven's training, she intended to make sure every student of hers would be prepared, and Amity was the first one that would grow up with such nurturing. There were plenty of physical exercises whose intent was to strengthen the witches' bodies and prepare them to endure magical attacks from others and themselves. Specific knowledge ensured that the individual could work smarter with her stamina, reserving as much of it as possible to keep their bile sack from exhausting itself. For most people, it would've seen like senseless training, but every crazy-looking exercise had a point. Amity loved the time they spend doing the exercises and was the only moment she was actually allowed to roll on the grass and be under the sun. Odalia wasn't happy when she found her child dirty and pink from the heat, but Lilith did notice an increase in Ames' immunological system after they began 'playing' outside.

[shoppurpleturtle]

Five Activities for kids to Play and Learn

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To help your kids getting engaged in blissful work or to make them busy while you are preferring to work from home can be a full-time job in itself—this is the reason working parents find various ways to make their kids engaged and kids must learn must learn to find their own things to do. Kids would love daily to do something new and exciting, it just takes a little encouragement, training and proper guidance. When children constantly involve in these activities, they expand their interest and spend more time begin learning how to keep themselves busy also get involved.

Art & Craft Activities: - Make your child get involved in Art & craft activities, that will make them occupied for hours and also happy too. However, if it is to be done individually by children, make sure they should be able to do most of the setup and clean up by their own. So keep it simple and easy. For young toddlers do creativity that don't require cutting so to avoid any harm you can do the cutting in advance. For the youngest kids, it is best to allow them explore with coloring.

Reading Books/ Smart Books: - Reading is an independent activity, also it will help your child in getting a certain level of proficiency. However, there are many smart books that will engage kids of all ages and reading levels to guide them in learning new things, also in correct pronunciation and other related skills. Educational books for toddlers can be great way to promote brain development, social skills, pronunciation, vocabulary & in enhancing academic performance.

Educational & Knowledgeable Fun Games: - Nowadays everyone sector is going online, so education too is, so if you have a laptop or tablet available to your kids allow them during your work hours to play educational games, impart a little learning and fun at the same time. These games keep kids thinking and that keeps boredom at bay, so they will learn and have fun at the same time, also get knowledge with these fun activities rather watching TV or simply playing. To set a certain time limit in advance on electronic games, even educational ones because kids can find it hard to disengage from their screens. Kids need a wide variety of activities time to time to truly learn to play independently so too much time in front of a laptop or tab can run counter to what you are trying to accomplish and is harmful for them too.

Outdoor Games: - Take your child outside to have fun, play some creative games and activities along with your children make them feel comfortable and happy playing outside, don't make things complicated. Play some classic and fun games that don't require a lot of components and give proper time to your kid to listen and get involved in their activities.

Allot Household Chores: - Allot few household chores to make your child learn management and in enhancing their knowledge, (for ex. Allow your child to watering plants and teach them about plants, leaves, importance etc.) it is important for kids just to make them organized and to divert their mind. It is easy in a learning phase to teach kids & they will feel responsible in scheduling tasks by themselves. However allot proper time for everything so that they enjoy things and learn easily.

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[bethany-high-school]

Admissions at Bethany High School

At Bethany, we’re always thrilled to welcome new members to our vibrant and joyful community. The admissions season is a bustling time at our school, drawing thousands of applications each year, a testament to our standing as a sought-after educational institution.

Admissions Process: Starting in December, applications for Pre Nursery admissions open, marking the beginning of an exciting journey for both prospective students and our school. In response to the high volume of applications and to keep pace with the evolving landscape of technology, Bethany High has transitioned to a fully online admissions process. This digital shift not only streamlines the application procedure but also aligns with our commitment to environmental sustainability by reducing paper use. Please note, that we no longer issue physical application forms, a change from our previous practices.

Criteria for Selection: The process of shortlisting candidates for Pre Nursery commences in the first week of January. This crucial task is undertaken by our dedicated Admissions Committee, which meticulously evaluates each application based on a comprehensive set of 15 criteria. These criteria include, but are not limited to, the applicant’s age, whether the child has siblings already enrolled at Bethany, the alumni status of their parents or relatives, and the proximity of the student’s residence to the school. This thorough and thoughtful approach ensures a fair and holistic review of all applications.

Embarking on a Journey of Learning

Joining Bethany means becoming part of a nurturing environment that encourages growth, learning, and community spirit. We look forward to the possibility of welcoming you and your family to our esteemed institution.

Understanding Our Selection Process

At Bethany, our selection process is designed to ensure a comprehensive understanding of each prospective student. A key part of this process includes a meeting with the parents, enabling us to gain deeper insights into your child’s unique qualities and needs. Our commitment to fairness and equality is unwavering; we ensure our selection is unbiased, with no discrimination based on gender, caste, or creed. Additionally, for primary applicants, we do not conduct tests, as we believe in assessing their potential through more holistic methods.

Admissions Beyond Primary

For classes beyond primary, admissions are primarily dependent on seat availability. The process for filling vacancies begins in April. We are dedicated to providing focused, individual attention to each student, which is why we limit our class sizes to a maximum of 35 students.

Junior College Admissions

Admissions for our Junior College (classes XI and XII) open in April. Prospective students undergo an interview process before their standard X board results are announced. Admissions are granted based solely on merit. Students have the opportunity to choose from three streams of specialization: Science, Commerce, and Arts, allowing them to tailor their education to their interests and career aspirations.

[siddharthapublicschools1]

Is your toddler ready for SPS education? 5 factors will help get admission

Your little Ninja is growing rapidly and, in no time, will be active in a play school. Many parents still ask why burden their toddlers with activities and spoil their childhood. There are several reasons the child should be admitted into Lower KG in a school.

Siddhartha Public School is one of the popular CBSE schools in Hyderabad which actively takes care of your little Ninjas. We break down significant reasons for parents in doubt when it comes to admissions. Of course, there are reasons to choose CBSE school, which becomes the playground and the foundation for the best education.

5 important factors which are non-negotiable 

As one of the best CBSE schools in Boduppal, Siddhartha Public School invites toddlers ready to learn at an early age. Being in this sector for decades, some valid points go in our favour as educators in Hyderabad.

The right nursery sets the tone for entire academics during school life for your toddler. Often, as a parent, you may have limitations due to school fees, location, and age factors of the child. These challenges can be overcome by thinking of these aspects of schooling:

School with a good reputation – Often, word-of-mouth and reviews are important. Parents speak to each other and get to know the strong and reliable teachings in the school. It is activated when admissions are open. Parents can ask:

What new things will the kid learn in the nursery class?

How do we know that the kid is enjoying playing with others?

Do the teachers have the right soft skills to handle children?

Can we (as parents) visit the school to check how the children spend their time?

What kind of activities are taught in the preschool?

Education and method of teaching

Your child will move out of the loving care and home for the first time. It will also help to socialise with others without fear. The playschool is the ideal environment for the toddler to adjust to the outside world. In our classes, devoted teachers help the children to adjust and learn new things. The settings, furniture, play activities, and safety are paramount as well.

We encourage parents to come and see for themselves how kids enjoy various activities like indoor and outdoor games. Each game helps in mental and physical development. Friendly ways are adopted to ensure the growth and imparting of education at the nursery level.

Guidelines for CBSE School Admission

When our new academic year opens for admissions, parents can check the eligibility before the process begins. You can check the activity-based learning that will help the child to adjust to a full day of school later. Age-related programs allow the development to be stronger for any child to acquire unique skills.

The Siddhartha Public School admission process is one of the easiest in Boduppal. We welcome toddlers whose parents come from diverse backgrounds. If you are still looking for reasons to choose CBSE School, visit the campus and speak to the principal. She will assure you of the education our experienced faculty provides for children of all age groups.

[andykreed]

This site does not have enough alt right propaganda, we should fix this, make tumbler like a Twitter 2.0, where the only difference between tumbler and Twitter is that tumbler will have EVEN MORE nazis

Is there like not a character limit on this thing, on Twitter there’s like a very strict low character limit

Also can I just type anything?

Here’s the communist manifesto ig, this app should be all over that

The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels

MANIFESTO OF THE COMMUNIST PARTY

From the English edition of 1888, edited by Friedrich Engels

A spectre is haunting Europe — the spectre of Communism. All the Powers of old Europe have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Pope and Czar, Metternich and Guizot, French Radicals and German police-spies.

Where is the party in opposition that has not been decried as Communistic by its opponents in power? Where the Opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of Communism, against the more advanced opposition parties, as well as against its reactionary adversaries?

Two things result from this fact.

I. Communism is already acknowledged by all European Powers to be itself a Power.

II. It is high time that Communists should openly, in the face of the whole world, publish their views, their aims, their tendencies, and meet this nursery tale of the Spectre of Communism with a Manifesto of the party itself.

To this end, Communists of various nationalities have assembled in London, and sketched the following Manifesto, to be published in the English, French, German, Italian, Flemish and Danish languages.

I. BOURGEOIS AND PROLETARIANS

The history of all hitherto existing societies is the history of class struggles.

Freeman and slave, patrician and plebeian, lord and serf, guild-master and journeyman, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in constant opposition to one another, carried on an uninterrupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each time ended, either in a revolutionary re-constitution of society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending classes.

In the earlier epochs of history, we find almost everywhere a complicated arrangement of society into various orders, a manifold gradation of social rank. In ancient Rome we have patricians, knights, plebeians, slaves; in the Middle Ages, feudal lords, vassals, guild-masters, journeymen, apprentices, serfs; in almost all of these classes, again, subordinate gradations.

The modern bourgeois society that has sprouted from the ruins of feudal society has not done away with class antagonisms. It has but established new classes, new conditions of oppression, new forms of struggle in place of the old ones. Our epoch, the epoch of the bourgeoisie, possesses, however, this distinctive feature: it has simplified the class antagonisms: Society as a whole is more and more splitting up into two great hostile camps, into two great classes, directly facing each other: Bourgeoisie and Proletariat.

From the serfs of the Middle Ages sprang the chartered burghers of the earliest towns. From these burgesses the first elements of the bourgeoisie were developed.

The discovery of America, the rounding of the Cape, opened up fresh ground for the rising bourgeoisie. The East-Indian and Chinese markets, the colonisation of America, trade with the colonies, the increase in the means of exchange and in commodities generally, gave to commerce, to navigation, to industry, an impulse never before known, and thereby, to the revolutionary element in the tottering feudal society, a rapid development.

The feudal system of industry, under which industrial production was monopolised by closed guilds, now no longer sufficed for the growing wants of the new markets. The manufacturing system took its place. The guild-masters were pushed on one side by the manufacturing middle class; division of labour between the different corporate guilds vanished in the face of division of labour in each single workshop.

Meantime the markets kept ever growing, the demand ever rising. Even manufacture no longer sufficed. Thereupon, steam and machinery revolutionised industrial production. The place of manufacture was taken by the giant, Modern Industry, the place of the industrial middle class, by industrial millionaires, the leaders of whole industrial armies, the modern bourgeois.

Modern industry has established the world-market, for which the discovery of America paved the way. This market has given an immense development to commerce, to navigation, to communication by land. This development has, in its time, reacted on the extension of industry; and in proportion as industry, commerce, navigation, railways extended, in the same proportion the bourgeoisie developed, increased its capital, and pushed into the background every class handed down from the Middle Ages.

We see, therefore, how the modern bourgeoisie is itself the product of a long course of development, of a series of revolutions in the modes of production and of exchange.

Each step in the development of the bourgeoisie was accompanied by a corresponding political advance of that class. An oppressed class under the sway of the feudal nobility, an armed and self-governing association in the mediaeval commune; here independent urban republic (as in Italy and Germany), there taxable “third estate” of the monarchy (as in France), afterwards, in the period of manufacture proper, serving either the semi-feudal or the absolute monarchy as a counterpoise against the nobility, and, in fact, corner-stone of the great monarchies in general, the bourgeoisie has at last, since the establishment of Modern Industry and of the world-market, conquered for itself, in the modern representative State, exclusive political sway. The executive of the modern State is but a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.

The bourgeoisie, historically, has played a most revolutionary part.

The bourgeoisie, wherever it has got the upper hand, has put an end to all feudal, patriarchal, idyllic relations. It has pitilessly torn asunder the motley feudal ties that bound man to his “natural superiors,” and has left remaining no other nexus between man and man than naked self-interest, than callous “cash payment.” It has drowned the most heavenly ecstasies of religious fervour, of chivalrous enthusiasm, of philistine sentimentalism, in the icy water of egotistical calculation. It has resolved personal worth into exchange value. And in place of the numberless and feasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom — Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

The bourgeoisie has stripped of its halo every occupation hitherto honoured and looked up to with reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the poet, the man of science, into its paid wage labourers.

The bourgeoisie has torn away from the family its sentimental veil, and has reduced the family relation to a mere money relation.

The bourgeoisie has disclosed how it came to pass that the brutal display of vigour in the Middle Ages, which Reactionists so much admire, found its fitting complement in the most slothful indolence. It has been the first to show what man’s activity can bring about. It has accomplished wonders far surpassing Egyptian pyramids, Roman aqueducts, and Gothic cathedrals; it has conducted expeditions that put in the shade all former Exoduses of nations and crusades.

The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionising the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society. Conservation of the old modes of production in unaltered form, was, on the contrary, the first condition of existence for all earlier industrial classes. Constant revolutionising of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses, his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind.

The need of a constantly expanding market for its products chases the bourgeoisie over the whole surface of the globe. It must nestle everywhere, settle everywhere, establish connexions everywhere.

The bourgeoisie has through its exploitation of the world-market given a cosmopolitan character to production and consumption in every country. To the great chagrin of Reactionists, it has drawn from under the feet of industry the national ground on which it stood. All old-established national industries have been destroyed or are daily being destroyed. They are dislodged by new industries, whose introduction becomes a life and death question for all civilised nations, by industries that no longer work up indigenous raw material, but raw material drawn from the remotest zones; industries whose products are consumed, not only at home, but in every quarter of the globe. In place of the old wants, satisfied by the productions of the country, we find new wants, requiring for their satisfaction the products of distant lands and climes. In place of the old local and national seclusion and self-sufficiency, we have intercourse in every direction, universal inter-dependence of nations. And as in material, so also in intellectual production. The intellectual creations of individual nations become common property. National one-sidedness and narrow-mindedness become more and more impossible, and from the numerous national and local literatures, there arises a world literature.

The bourgeoisie, by the rapid improvement of all instruments of production, by the immensely facilitated means of communication, draws all, even the most barbarian, nations into civilisation. The cheap prices of its commodities are the heavy artillery with which it batters down all Chinese walls, with which it forces the barbarians’ intensely obstinate hatred of foreigners to capitulate. It compels all nations, on pain of extinction, to adopt the bourgeois mode of production; it compels them to introduce what it calls civilisation into their midst, i.e., to become bourgeois themselves. In one word, it creates a world after its own image.

The bourgeoisie has subjected the country to the rule of the towns. It has created enormous cities, has greatly increased the urban population as compared with the rural, and has thus rescued a considerable part of the population from the idiocy of rural life. Just as it has made the country dependent on the towns, so it has made barbarian and semi-barbarian countries dependent on the civilised ones, nations of peasants on nations of bourgeois, the East on the West.

The bourgeoisie keeps more and more doing away with the scattered state of the population, of the means of production, and of property. It has agglomerated production, and has concentrated property in a few hands. The necessary consequence of this was political centralisation. Independent, or but loosely connected provinces, with separate interests, laws, governments and systems of taxation, became lumped together into one nation, with one government, one code of laws, one national class-interest, one frontier and one customs-tariff. The bourgeoisie, during its rule of scarce one hundred years, has created more massive and more colossal productive forces than have all preceding generations together. Subjection of Nature’s forces to man, machinery, application of chemistry to industry and agriculture, steam-navigation, railways, electric telegraphs, clearing of whole continents for cultivation, canalisation of rivers, whole populations conjured out of the ground — what earlier century had even a presentiment that such productive forces slumbered in the lap of social labour?

We see then: the means of production and of exchange, on whose foundation the bourgeoisie built itself up, were generated in feudal society. At a certain stage in the development of these means of production and of exchange, the conditions under which feudal society produced and exchanged, the feudal organisation of agriculture and manufacturing industry, in one word, the feudal relations of property became no longer compatible with the already developed productive forces; they became so many fetters. They had to be burst asunder; they were burst asunder.

Into their place stepped free competition, accompanied by a social and political constitution adapted to it, and by the economical and political sway of the bourgeois class.

A similar movement is going on before our own eyes. Modern bourgeois society with its relations of production, of exchange and of property, a society that has conjured up such gigantic means of production and of exchange, is like the sorcerer, who is no longer able to control the powers of the nether world whom he has called up by his spells. For many a decade past the history of industry and commerce is but the history of the revolt of modern productive forces against modern conditions of production, against the property relations that are the conditions for the existence of the bourgeoisie and of its rule. It is enough to mention the commercial crises that by their periodical return put on its trial, each time more threateningly, the existence of the entire bourgeois society. In these crises a great part not only of the existing products, but also of the previously created productive forces, are periodically destroyed. In these crises there breaks out an epidemic that, in all earlier epochs, would have seemed an absurdity — the epidemic of over-production. Society suddenly finds itself put back into a state of momentary barbarism; it appears as if a famine, a universal war of devastation had cut off the supply of every means of subsistence; industry and commerce seem to be destroyed; and why? Because there is too much civilisation, too much means of subsistence, too much industry, too much commerce. The productive forces at the disposal of society no longer tend to further the development of the conditions of bourgeois property; on the contrary, they have become too powerful for these conditions, by which they are fettered, and so soon as they overcome these fetters, they bring disorder into the whole of bourgeois society, endanger the existence of bourgeois property. The conditions of bourgeois society are too narrow to comprise the wealth created by them. And how does the bourgeoisie get over these crises? On the one hand inforced destruction of a mass of productive forces; on the other, by the conquest of new markets, and by the more thorough exploitation of the old ones. That is to say, by paving the way for more extensive and more destructive crises, and by diminishing the means whereby crises are prevented.

The weapons with which the bourgeoisie felled feudalism to the ground are now turned against the bourgeoisie itself.

But not only has the bourgeoisie forged the weapons that bring death to itself; it has also called into existence the men who are to wield those weapons — the modern working class — the proletarians.

In proportion as the bourgeoisie, i.e., capital, is developed, in the same proportion is the proletariat, the modern working class, developed — a class of labourers, who live only so long as they find work, and who find work only so long as their labour increases capital. These labourers, who must sell themselves piece-meal, are a commodity, like every other article of commerce, and are consequently exposed to all the vicissitudes of competition, to all the fluctuations of the market.

Owing to the extensive use of machinery and to division of labour, the work of the proletarians has lost all individual character, and consequently, all charm for the workman. He becomes an appendage of the machine, and it is only the most simple, most monotonous, and most easily acquired knack, that is required of him. Hence, the cost of production of a workman is restricted, almost entirely, to the means of subsistence that he requires for his maintenance, and for the propagation of his race. But the price of a commodity, and therefore also of labour, is equal to its cost of production. In proportion therefore, as the repulsiveness of the work increases, the wage decreases. Nay more, in proportion as the use of machinery and division of labour increases, in the same proportion the burden of toil also increases, whether by prolongation of the working hours, by increase of the work exacted in a given time or by increased speed of the machinery, etc.

Modern industry has converted the little workshop of the patriarchal master into the great factory of the industrial capitalist. Masses of labourers, crowded into the factory, are organised like soldiers. As privates of the industrial army they are placed under the command of a perfect hierarchy of officers and sergeants. Not only are they slaves of the bourgeois class, and of the bourgeois State; they are daily and hourly enslaved by the machine, by the over-looker, and, above all, by the individual bourgeois manufacturer himself. The more openly this despotism proclaims gain to be its end and aim, the more petty, the more hateful and the more embittering it is.

The less the skill and exertion of strength implied in manual labour, in other words, the more modern industry becomes developed, the more is the labour of men superseded by that of women. Differences of age and sex have no longer any distinctive social validity for the working class. All are instruments of labour, more or less expensive to use, according to their age and sex.

No sooner is the exploitation of the labourer by the manufacturer, so far at an end, that he receives his wages in cash, than he is set upon by the other portions of the bourgeoisie, the landlord, the shopkeeper, the pawnbroker, etc.

The lower strata of the middle class — the small tradespeople, shopkeepers, retired tradesmen generally, the handicraftsmen and peasants — all these sink gradually into the proletariat, partly because their diminutive capital does not suffice for the scale on which Modern Industry is carried on, and is swamped in the competition with the large capitalists, partly because their specialized skill is rendered worthless by the new methods of production. Thus the proletariat is recruited from all classes of the population.

The proletariat goes through various stages of development. With its birth begins its struggle with the bourgeoisie. At first the contest is carried on by individual labourers, then by the workpeople of a factory, then by the operatives of one trade, in one locality, against the individual bourgeois who directly exploits them. They direct their attacks not against the bourgeois conditions of production, but against the instruments of production themselves; they destroy imported wares that compete with their labour, they smash to pieces machinery, they set factories ablaze, they seek to restore by force the vanished status of the workman of the Middle Ages.

At this stage the labourers still form an incoherent mass scattered over the whole country, and broken up by their mutual competition. If anywhere they unite to form more compact bodies, this is not yet the consequence of their own active union, but of the union of the bourgeoisie, which class, in order to attain its own political ends, is compelled to set the whole proletariat in motion, and is moreover yet, for a time, able to do so. At this stage, therefore, the proletarians do not fight their enemies, but the enemies of their enemies, the remnants of absolute monarchy, the landowners, the non-industrial bourgeois, the petty bourgeoisie. Thus the whole historical movement is concentrated in the hands of the bourgeoisie; every victory so obtained is a victory for the bourgeoisie.

But with the development of industry the proletariat not only increases in number; it becomes concentrated in greater masses, its strength grows, and it feels that strength more. The various interests and conditions of life within the ranks of the proletariat are more and more equalised, in proportion as machinery obliterates all distinctions of labour, and nearly everywhere reduces wages to the same low level. The growing competition among the bourgeois, and the resulting commercial crises, make the wages of the workers ever more fluctuating. The unceasing improvement of machinery, ever more rapidly developing, makes their livelihood more and more precarious; the collisions between individual workmen and individual bourgeois take more and more the character of collisions between two classes. Thereupon the workers begin to form combinations (Trades Unions) against the bourgeois; they club together in order to keep up the rate of wages; they found permanent associations in order to make provision beforehand for these occasional revolts. Here and there the contest breaks out into riots.

Now and then the workers are victorious, but only for a time. The real fruit of their battles lies, not in the immediate result, but in the ever-expanding union of the workers. This union is helped on by the improved means of communication that are created by modern industry and that place the workers of different localities in contact with one another. It was just this contact that was needed to centralise the numerous local struggles, all of the same character, into one national struggle between classes. But every class struggle is a political struggle. And that union, to attain which the burghers of the Middle Ages, with their miserable highways, required centuries, the modern proletarians, thanks to railways, achieve in a few years.

This organisation of the proletarians into a class, and consequently into a political party, is continually being upset again by the competition between the workers themselves. But it ever rises up again, stronger, firmer, mightier. It compels legislative recognition of particular interests of the workers, by taking advantage of the divisions among the bourgeoisie itself. Thus the ten-hours’ bill in England was carried.

Altogether collisions between the classes of the old society further, in many ways, the course of development of the proletariat. The bourgeoisie finds itself involved in a constant battle. At first with the aristocracy; later on, with those portions of the bourgeoisie itself, whose interests have become antagonistic to the progress of industry; at all times, with the bourgeoisie of foreign countries. In all these battles it sees itself compelled to appeal to the proletariat, to ask for its help, and thus, to drag it into the political arena. The bourgeoisie itself, therefore, supplies the proletariat with its own instruments of political and general education, in other words, it furnishes the proletariat with weapons for fighting the bourgeoisie.

Further, as we have already seen, entire sections of the ruling classes are, by the advance of industry, precipitated into the proletariat, or are at least threatened in their conditions of existence. These also supply the proletariat with fresh elements of enlightenment and progress.

Finally, in times when the class struggle nears the decisive hour, the process of dissolution going on within the ruling class, in fact within the whole range of society, assumes such a violent, glaring character, that a small section of the ruling class cuts itself adrift, and joins the revolutionary class, the class that holds the future in its hands. Just as, therefore, at an earlier period, a section of the nobility went over to the bourgeoisie, so now a portion of the bourgeoisie goes over to the proletariat, and in particular, a portion of the bourgeois ideologists, who have raised themselves to the level of comprehending theoretically the historical movement as a whole.

Of all the classes that stand face to face with the bourgeoisie today, the proletariat alone is a really revolutionary class. The other classes decay and finally disappear in the face of Modern Industry; the proletariat is its special and essential product. The lower middle class, the small manufacturer, the shopkeeper, the artisan, the peasant, all these fight against the bourgeoisie, to save from extinction their existence as fractions of the middle class. They are therefore not revolutionary, but conservative. Nay more, they are reactionary, for they try to roll back the wheel of history. If by chance they are revolutionary, they are so only in view of their impending transfer into the proletariat, they thus defend not their present, but their future interests, they desert their own standpoint to place themselves at that of the proletariat.

The “dangerous class,” the social scum, that passively rotting mass thrown off by the lowest layers of old society, may, here and there, be swept into the movement by a proletarian revolution; its conditions of life, however, prepare it far more for the part of a bribed tool of reactionary intrigue.

In the conditions of the proletariat, those of old society at large are already virtually swamped. The proletarian is without property; his relation to his wife and children has no longer anything in common with the bourgeois family-relations; modern industrial labour, modern subjection to capital, the same in England as in France, in America as in Germany, has stripped him of every trace of national character. Law, morality, religion, are to him so many bourgeois prejudices, behind which lurk in ambush just as many bourgeois interests.

All the preceding classes that got the upper hand, sought to fortify their already acquired status by subjecting society at large to their conditions of appropriation. The proletarians cannot become masters of the productive forces of society, except by abolishing their own previous mode of appropriation, and thereby also every other previous mode of appropriation. They have nothing of their own to secure and to fortify; their mission is to destroy all previous securities for, and insurances of, individual property.

All previous historical movements were movements of minorities, or in the interests of minorities. The proletarian movement is the self-conscious, independent movement of the immense majority, in the interests of the immense majority. The proletariat, the lowest stratum of our present society, cannot stir, cannot raise itself up, without the whole superincumbent strata of official society being sprung into the air.

Though not in substance, yet in form, the struggle of the proletariat with the bourgeoisie is at first a national struggle. The proletariat of each country must, of course, first of all settle matters with its own bourgeoisie.

In depicting the most general phases of the development of the proletariat, we traced the more or less veiled civil war, raging within existing society, up to the point where that war breaks out into open revolution, and where the violent overthrow of the bourgeoisie lays the foundation for the sway of the proletariat.

Hitherto, every form of society has been based, as we have already seen, on the antagonism of oppressing and oppressed classes. But in order to oppress a class, certain conditions must be assured to it under which it can, at least, continue its slavish existence. The serf, in the period of serfdom, raised himself to membership in the commune, just as the petty bourgeois, under the yoke of feudal absolutism, managed to develop into a bourgeois. The modern laborer, on the contrary, instead of rising with the progress of industry, sinks deeper and deeper below the conditions of existence of his own class. He becomes a pauper, and pauperism develops more rapidly than population and wealth. And here it becomes evident, that the bourgeoisie is unfit any longer to be the ruling class in society, and to impose its conditions of existence upon society as an over-riding law. It is unfit to rule because it is incompetent to assure an existence to its slave within his slavery, because it cannot help letting him sink into such a state, that it has to feed him, instead of being fed by him. Society can no longer live under this bourgeoisie, in other words, its existence is no longer compatible with society.

The essential condition for the existence, and for the sway of the bourgeois class, is the formation and augmentation of capital; the condition for capital is wage-labour. Wage-labour rests exclusively on competition between the laborers. The advance of industry, whose involuntary promoter is the bourgeoisie, replaces the isolation of the labourers, due to competition, by their revolutionary combination, due to association. The development of Modern Industry, therefore, cuts from under its feet the very foundation on which the bourgeoisie produces and appropriates products. What the bourgeoisie, therefore, produces, above all, is its own grave-diggers. Its fall and the victory of the proletariat are equally inevitable.

[jumpforjoyuae]

Enroll kids in international schools to lay strong educational foundation

Children’s education is based on a combination of visuals and audio content that are easy to observe and understand. Kids aged 3-4 are not matured or focused enough to learn complicated algorithms and theories. It is difficult to bring focus in children that are of playing age, hence the syllabus created for the kids are made up of colorful pictures, videos and poems or songs. Pre-school education known as nursery school, crèche, or pre-nursery classes teach children primarily teach children to identify recognize objects, colors, shapes, and numbers.  Elementary language skills such as recognizing and reading alphabets, reading and writing, everyday science, mathematics basics, general knowledge, thematic  learning like learning shapes, colors, animals, travel models etc.  Jolly phonics classes for Kids Mussafah Abu Dhabi fall in to this category and it educates children without putting pressure on their young minds.

KG schools to strengthen basic language and skill development

This education continues till the children attain the age of 6-7 and are then introduced to kindergarten education. Kindergarten education focuses on teaching counting, mathematics, science, and social studies. During the course they are also taught to recognize alphabets and then read words. Children in kindergarten are taught to recognize alphabets, read and write them. It is the first step towards reading and writing and teachers focus on children’ developing their writing and reading skills using colorful texts, pictures and shapes. They are also taught to write alphabets in both lower and uppercase numbers and small words related to objects children see every day at home and their environment. They are taught to recognize, understand, write and speak alphabets correctly and approaches by educational institutions are visual, auditory and lots of hand-on work.

Educate children in English to be in the mainstream

Education for pre-school, kindergarten and primary schools in local schools are mostly taught in their mother tongue or regional language. A country like UAE teach children in their mother tongue and government run schools primarily teach children in Arabic which is the state language primarily used in government offices, and businesses. English is an international language that is used as a second language to depict various establishments, name of towns and cities, names of roads, streets and other public related areas.   It is important to learn English because it is universal language and is used throughout the world for communication, business, tours, relocations, tourism etc. it is important to learn English for your children in UAE and other Arabic speaking countries because it allows them to be at par with rest of the world and participate in mainstream events and businesses.  Make sure to enroll your kids in UAE at schools that offer English course for Kids Mussafah or they will be left out of the mainstream and their career or promotions will be limited to UAE only.  

[sachisei]

I didn't know there is a difference between montessori schools and traditional schools. I studied under a montessori school since nursery to third grade. By 4th grade, my parents decided to transfer me to a regular private school. Sure enough, it did seem a little different to me, but I always thought it was just because I felt a little alienated by coming to a new school with new faces.

I did notice that the duration of classes were very different. In the montessori school, we only had around 30 minutes each subject, and the entire school day would only be half a day. However, in the traditional private school, we had around 45 minutes of lecture for each subject, and the entire school day is from 7 am to 4 pm.

I didn't notice it back then, but thinking back on it now, we didn't really have homework in montessori school. Most of the learning was spent inside the school. Each grade had 2 sections, one is a morning section, and the other is the afternoon section. I attended the morning section. When I would arrive home, I never did any homework. I would just sleep the rest of the afternoon or watch some tv series, that is before I was banned from watching tv starting first grade.

I'm also unsure if traditional schools allowed students to skip to a higher grade, but that was what essentially happened to me. I skipped the 2nd year of kindergarten. And I just learned now that montessori schools grouped multi-age students. I am not aware of my classmates' ages, but that could probably explain why some of them felt a little more older than me in terms of their manners and overall aura.

Another thing I did notice when I transferred school, was that in the traditional school, all the students had to stay quiet and really stay put. The only exception was this ADHD kid from second grade who would come and visit our classroom at any time of the day. But in montessori school, I remember our classes to be boisterous and chaotic. Some kids are talking to each other. Some kids are throwing paper planes. Some kids would walk around the classroom while the teacher is speaking. And we were only seldomly reprimanded for this, and I think they only did that whenever a fight broke out, or a student was disrepecting somebody. Most of my montessori teachers were very calm and intuitive. None of the classes felt too slow nor too fast to me, although there are still who would struggle. I'd know because there were kids who'd try to cheat off my paper during our exams.

The other thing that was different was the number of students per grade. In montessori, we had around 25 - 40 students in a classroom, while it was less than 15 for my private school. They prepared 15 chairs each classroom. And funnily, during my 4th grade, I only had one classmate. I didn't think of the difference of number that much because this private school newly opened when I attended it on its first year. So in my head, the number made sense in correlation to that. I did, however, hear about our entrance exam limiting the number of students who could attend our school.

I horrendously failed an exam in music subject in private school, and I was profusely reprimanded for it in the faculty room. It was my first time ever receiving a negative feedback directly from a school teacher. And I didn't take it well, as in I sort of rebelled against it. In my head I didn't care about getting a failing score for a music subject, besides it was just one exam. But somehow that wasn't allowed. I don't remember if I ever failed an exam during montessori school, but what I do remember was that classes were so much more fun and easier to take. It was the first time I had to swallow some pressure from somebody I didn't even like.

Perhaps my parents knew that I was a little different from other kids after all because they sent me to a montessori school. But they maybe got a little ahead of themselves by transferring me to a traditional school, albeit being a private one. But if I were to attend college, I think attending traditional schools would have definitely make it easier for me to adapt to college.

[helloparent]

There are Five Creative Preschools in India That use Special Education Techniques.

The significance of early childhood education in India has surged, particularly following the implementation of the new National Education Policy. Below, we present five best preschools in India that stand out for their unique and innovative approaches to learning.

In Brief:

Pre-primary education is a well-structured early childhood education program that is highly recommended for children before they begin formal schooling. The approach combines play with education and is typically delivered by trained professionals. Typically, children between the ages of three and five attend pre-primary schools.

1. Dudes and Dolls The Cosmic School:

Founded by Ritesh Rawal in 2012 in Delhi NCR (Faridabad), this school has carved a distinctive niche in early childhood education. The institution's primary objective is to focus on the comprehensive development of young children.

Dudes and Dolls The Cosmic School is renowned for its exceptional curriculum, which includes a vast and dedicated real-life simulation activity area featuring an airplane accommodating up to 20 people, a news channel studio for children to learn about news production and videos, a child-friendly cooking studio, a petrol pump, a courtroom, a photo studio, a six sigma lab, and more, all designed to create a lifelike environment within the school.

The school emphasizes personalized development plans for each child rather than a one-size-fits-all approach. Its architectural design resembles a grand castle, affectionately referred to as "The Castle of My Dreams" by its founder.

2. Euro Kids:

Established in 2001, Euro Kids is a well-known preschool chain with over 900 centers in 350 cities across India. The school's curriculum draws inspiration from the Montessori and Playway methodologies, maintaining a student-to-teacher ratio of 10:1.

Euro Kids offers four distinct program classes: nursery, playgroup, Eurojunior, and Eurosenior. This theme-based institution places a strong emphasis on enhancing children's language skills, cognitive abilities, motor skills, and self-esteem. Parental involvement is actively encouraged within its pre-primary programs.

3. Kangaroo Kids:

Founded in Mumbai in 1993, Kangaroo Kids boasts more than 80 branches nationwide. The school places a significant emphasis on parental engagement, urging parents to be actively involved in their children's learning and development at every stage.

Kangaroo Kids campuses are spacious and provide ample opportunities for both learning and play. The curriculum focuses on a child's mental, social, cognitive, and physical development, making it an inclusive choice, with services also catering to children with special needs.

4. Hello Kids:

Pioneering the concept of preschool education for the middle-income class in India, Hello Kids has expanded its network to over 285 branches across more than 22 states. With a balanced student-to-teacher ratio of 10:1, it prides itself on its professional teaching staff.

The curriculum at Hello Kids integrates Montessori and Play Way methodologies and welcomes children aged one and a half years and older. The four distinct program classes include nursery, playgroup, upper kindergarten, and lower kindergarten. The courses prioritize children's learning through events and games, incorporating activities such as yoga, computer basics, regular health check-ups by licensed medical professionals, and stage performances.

5. Little Elly:

Established in 2005 as an initiative of Learning Edge India Private Limited, Little Elly offers a program grounded in the Steiner and Montessori methodologies, recognized as two of the best early childhood education approaches.

Little Elly provides services ranging from playgroups to senior kindergartens and operates a daycare service on both a daily and monthly basis.

For better communication between school and parent use school parent app

Pre-primary school events include activities such as reading, sports, storytelling, crafts, painting, field trips, and puppet shows, fostering holistic child development. Originally Published by HelloParent.

[moeenali5423]

Creating Lifelong Learners in Dubai: A Journey of Knowledge and Discovery.

Education is the cornerstone of personal and societal growth. In Dubai, a city that has rapidly evolved into a global hub of innovation and diversity, the emphasis on creating lifelong learners is not just a goal but a fundamental principle. The journey of nurturing individuals who are driven to acquire knowledge throughout their lives is a testament to Dubai's commitment to building a sustainable, knowledge-based society. This article delves into the strategies, institutions, and cultural elements that have shaped the creation of lifelong learners in Dubai.

A City of Ambition and Learning

Dubai's ambitious journey as an educational powerhouse began with the vision to create a knowledge-based economy. Recognizing the importance of education in achieving this vision, the Emirate invested heavily in building a world-class educational infrastructure that caters to students of all ages and backgrounds. From early childhood to postgraduate studies, Dubai has cultivated a multifaceted approach to lifelong learning.

Early Childhood Education: The Foundation of Lifelong Learning

The journey towards becoming a lifelong learner often commences in early childhood. Dubai's commitment to early childhood education is evident through the establishment of high-quality nurseries, kindergartens, and primary schools. These institutions prioritize holistic development, fostering skills such as critical thinking, communication, and problem-solving from a young age.

The integration of the Reggio Emilia approach, Montessori methods, and other innovative teaching strategies encourages children to become active learners and instills a curiosity that will serve them throughout life.

Quality Schools and Diverse Curricula

Dubai's K-12 education landscape offers a diverse range of curricula, including American, British, IB, and national curricula, among others. This diversity enables parents to choose an educational path that best suits their child's needs, ensuring a well-rounded and comprehensive learning experience.

The emphasis on core subjects is complemented by an array of extracurricular activities, encouraging students to explore their interests and passions. From arts and sports to science and technology, schools in Dubai offer a wide spectrum of opportunities for students to become well-rounded individuals.

Higher Education: A Multicultural Experience

Dubai's higher education institutions are a microcosm of the city's diverse population. The presence of branch campuses of prestigious international universities provides students with the chance to experience a global education without leaving the city. Exposure to diverse faculty and peers from around the world fosters an environment of cultural exchange and global awareness.

These institutions offer a broad spectrum of academic disciplines and are committed to research and innovation. The incorporation of research activities into undergraduate programs is designed to promote critical thinking and problem-solving skills, empowering students to become lifelong learners who can adapt to a rapidly changing world.

Embracing Online and Continuous Learning

Lifelong learning is not confined to the classroom. Dubai encourages citizens and residents to embrace online and continuous learning opportunities. The government has launched various online platforms and initiatives that provide free access to a wide range of courses and resources. Whether it's acquiring a new language, mastering digital skills, or gaining knowledge in various fields, these platforms promote self-directed and self-paced learning.

Moreover, professional development is highly valued in Dubai, with various certifications and workshops available to enhance the skills of individuals in the workforce. The city's commitment to lifelong learning extends to adults, recognizing that personal and professional growth knows no age limits.

A Culture of Reading and Libraries

The Dubai Public Library system is a testament to the city's commitment to nurturing a culture of reading and intellectual curiosity. These libraries offer a vast collection of books in multiple languages, catering to a diverse population. They also host events, seminars, and book clubs, fostering a community of readers and learners.

Dubai's proactive approach to fostering a reading culture extends to the school system as well. Schools emphasize reading from an early age, creating an environment where books are celebrated and where students are encouraged to explore diverse genres and perspectives.

The Role of Cultural Exchange and Exposure

Cultural exchange and exposure are key components in the creation of lifelong learners. Dubai's cosmopolitan environment provides residents and visitors with the opportunity to engage with people from diverse backgrounds. Cultural festivals, art exhibitions, and international events are a regular part of the city's calendar, promoting an understanding and appreciation of different cultures and perspectives.

International travel is also encouraged, and Dubai serves as a gateway to the world, with an international airport connecting the city to a multitude of destinations. These experiences help individuals develop a global mindset, fostering a desire to explore and learn about the world beyond their immediate surroundings.

Championing Critical Thinking and Innovation

Critical thinking and innovation are cornerstones of lifelong learning. Dubai's educational institutions are designed to encourage students to question, analyze, and solve problems. Project-based learning, problem-solving challenges, and science and innovation competitions all play a role in fostering these skills.

Dubai's commitment to innovation extends to its emphasis on STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) education. Through programs and extracurricular activities, students are encouraged to explore fields related to emerging technologies and scientific advancements.

The Significance of Multilingualism

Multilingualism is another crucial aspect of becoming a lifelong learner. Dubai's multicultural environment fosters the use of multiple languages. Bilingual education is promoted in schools, with a focus on both Arabic and English. This approach equips students with a valuable skill set, allowing them to communicate and connect with individuals from different linguistic backgrounds.

Challenges and Future Directions

While Dubai has made significant progress in creating lifelong learners, challenges remain. Educational institutions must continuously adapt to keep pace with the ever-changing landscape of knowledge and technology. Ensuring access to quality education for all segments of the population, including marginalized communities, remains a priority.

The city's commitment to nurturing lifelong learners extends to a focus on sustainability and environmental awareness. Dubai recognizes that addressing global challenges, such as climate change and resource conservation, requires individuals who are well-informed and proactive in contributing to sustainable solutions.

Conclusion

Dubai's journey in creating lifelong learners is marked by its commitment to education at all levels. From early childhood to higher education and beyond, the city has invested in nurturing individuals who possess a thirst for knowledge, an appreciation for diverse perspectives, and the skills needed to adapt to an ever-evolving world.

School in Dubai, with its multicultural environment and research-focused approach, prepares students to be global citizens and lifelong learners. School in Dubai, education is not just a journey; it's a lifelong pursuit of knowledge, understanding, and personal growth, shaping individuals who are prepared to meet the challenges and seize the opportunities of the future. The educational landscape School in Dubai is a shining testament to the Emirate's unwavering commitment to excellence and innovation.

[whiteboyswagg86]

The Perks of Horticulture: Why You Must Begin Excavating In

""

Horticulture is a fantastic pastime that has numerous advantages for both your physical as well as psychological health. Not only does it offer a fantastic resource of exercise, but it likewise helps to minimize anxiety as well as anxiety degrees. Whether you have a green thumb or not, gardening can be an enjoyable and gratifying task that is perfect for people of every ages and abilities.In enhancement to

the mental as well as physical benefits, gardening also has various ecological advantages. By expanding your own vegetables and fruits, you can decrease your carbon footprint as well as aid to promote sustainable living. Additionally, gardening can help to support local ecological communities by providing environments for valuable pests as well as wild animals. So why not start excavating in as well as gain the benefits of horticulture today?

Getting started with horticulture is less complicated than you could believe. Whether you have a tiny porch or a huge exterior space, there are many means to obtain started with your own garden. Begin by researching the kinds of plants that grow well in your location as well as the most effective time to grow them. You can additionally think about container horticulture if you have actually limited room or intend to grow plants inside.

If you're new to gardening, don't be terrified to ask for help. Numerous neighborhood nurseries and yard facilities use classes and also workshops to assist you get going. In addition, there are numerous on the internet sources and gardening neighborhoods where you can link with various other garden enthusiasts as well as obtain suggestions as well as support. So what are you waiting for? Begin excavating in and delight in all the advantages that gardening needs to provide!

Read more here https://www.facebook.com/113846031980230/posts/6371641126200658/

[timrousbeastie-anthology]

The Advantages of Gardening: Why You Must Begin Digging In

""

Horticulture is a fantastic pastime that has countless advantages for both your physical and mental well-being. Not only does it give an excellent source of workout, however it likewise assists to reduce tension and also anxiousness degrees. Whether you have an eco-friendly thumb or not, horticulture can be an enjoyable and fulfilling activity that is excellent for individuals of every ages and also abilities.In addition to

the mental and also physical benefits, gardening additionally has countless environmental benefits. By growing your own vegetables and fruits, you can minimize your carbon footprint and aid to advertise sustainable living. Additionally, horticulture can help to support neighborhood ecosystems by providing habitats for beneficial insects as well as wildlife. So why not start digging in as well as profit of gardening today?

Starting with horticulture is simpler than you may assume. Whether you have a little porch or a huge exterior area, there are lots of ways to get begun with your own garden. Start by investigating the sorts of plants that expand well in your location and also the ideal time to plant them. You can also take into consideration container horticulture if you have actually limited space or desire to grow plants indoors.

If you're new to gardening, don't hesitate to request for help. Several neighborhood nurseries and yard facilities provide classes and workshops to aid you get going. In addition, there are numerous on the internet resources and also horticulture communities where you can get in touch with other gardeners and also obtain guidance and assistance. So what are you awaiting? Beginning digging in and also appreciate all the benefits that horticulture needs to use!

Read more here https://www.facebook.com/113846031980230/posts/6371641126200658/