#teachers lounge

[notes-in-the-margins]

OK! The next chapter of teachers lounge is OFFICIALLY WRITTEN! I had busy times and writers block for a hot minute there plus I’ve been crocheting and knitting Christmas gifts AND THEN I just sat and listened to classical music and reread the fic and let my mind ponder as I crocheted a scarf on autopilot AND I FOUND THE INSPIRATION AGAIN!

It just awaits proof reading and editing by @weepynymph my one and only 💗

[unicornery]

I'm concerned that Bill Cravy doesn't understand some major differences between paper and plastic

[kisafilms]

SAT 03 AUG: THE TEACHERS LOUNGE (12A)

A smart and provocative modern parable with the heart of a thriller, The Teachers’ Lounge brilliantly uses its setting as the backdrop for a look at how quickly even tight-knit communities can be destabilized. Carla Nowak, a dedicated sports and math teacher, starts her first job at a high school. When a series of thefts […] SAT 03 AUG: THE TEACHERS LOUNGE (12A)

[noahsarchipelago]

Today’s comic, in which Ruth and her fellow teachers argue about celebrity butts and Ursula allergies sell her out.

[cheekinpermission]

I always thought using the bathroom as the only girl at a school for boys would be difficult. So... here's a potential solution!

Just have your guy friends stand guard. Problem solved!

[wyrmwright]

"porter and jace were always a duo" oh i'm sure

[morganbritton132]

…… this is Eddie rn……..

Eddie is a menace to society in general, but also specifically to his PR team. Once he knows that he can stir up a lot of drama by being vague about Steve’s job, he’s going to do it.

Of course, he is.

He once took a call mid-live interview because Steve was calling him like, “Oh, my husband is calling. He must be at recess. Hold on.”

He then proceeded to say on a hot mic, “What’s up, big boy?”

Eddie once said on a live-streamed game of D&D that Steve couldn’t join them because he was “doing homework.” Steve was working on a lesson plan in the literal same room as him.

Eddie was a featured guest at a convention and Steve was supposed to go with him but woke up that morning feeling off so he decided to stay behind at the hotel. Eddie obviously wasn’t going to tell people Steve’s private information so he said instead that Steve couldn’t come because, “He’s got a bad case of summer school.”

Without fail, someone inevitably takes the statement in the stupidest possible direction and Eddie gets a strongly-worded email from his PR Manager telling him to knock it off but also to clean up his mess. So, Eddie gets to shove a camera in Steve’s face to prove that while his husband is aging gracefully and beautifully, he is definitely not eighteen.

“Right, baby?” Eddie asks.

Steve pushes the camera out of his face so he can go back to cooking, “Right.”

“That was a pretty good explanation, right?” Eddie continues. Steve hums back in response so he asks, “What grade am I, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve, who is tired of his work friends making fun of him over this, doesn’t even look up from his cutting board to tell Eddie, “You’re a grade-A dick.”

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

4x2 | 4x3

[plusultraetc]

just realized Aizawa’s and Vlad King’s birthdays are two days apart. I don’t yet know what I’m going to do with this information but I have to do SOMETHING

[severussnapemylove]

Hagrid; “If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous; if it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.”

Albus; “What if it bites me and it dies?”

Minerva; “That means you’re poisonous.”

Pomona; “What if it bites itself and I die?”

Filius; “That’s voodoo.”

Minerva; “What if it bites me and someone else dies?” 

Albus; “That’s a coincidence.”  

Severus; “What if we bite each other and neither of us die?”

Y/N; “That’s kinky.”

[cogentsummoner]

Touches prompts

Touching 1 (+55 combined? If you're feeling up to it)

1. touching foreheads + 55. tracing the lines on the other’s hand

You were drunk.

To be fair, you certainly weren't as drunk as the rest of your colleagues, but it was enough to be noticeable. Still, you seemed content to lean into Toshinori's good side, your arm wrapped around his, and listen to the chatter of everyone around you.

Perhaps you were just a sleepy drunk, Toshinori mused.

He was trying to keep his mind off the way your body felt against his, and the way you kept readjusting yourself, practically snuggling him, was not helping. It's downright impossible when you do finally, fully press yourself against him and rest your head on his chest. He can feel his heart pounding, and he prays you can't feel it too.

You're preoccupied, thankfully, by…his hand? You're holding his right hand between both of yours, seemingly studying it as you brought it closer to your face and turned it this way and that. Eventually you settle into gently… massaging his hand? He's not entirely sure what's happening. "What, uh, what are you doing?" he asked quietly, so the other teachers wouldn't hear. You're tracing the scars and lines on his hand now with your thumbs, that same, hazy focus in your expression, like you were trying to commit this to memory.

"I like your hands," you replied, barely above a whisper. "They're big, and elegant, and they feel nice."

Toshinori can't drink. Not with his digestive system as messed up as it is. Which was unfortunate, because being drunk would have been a great excuse for the deep flush he could feel spreading from his face, to his ears, and down his neck.

He let out a nervous chuckle. "I don't think anyone's ever called my hands elegant before," he said honestly.

You hummed and nodded. "They're like… they're like a piano player's. Do you know how to play piano?"

You looked up at him with curiosity sparkling in your eyes- fuck, didn't you know it was unfair to be so cute?

"I can't say I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

"That's okay," you said, matter of fact. "I can't either." You go quiet again, content to hold his hand between your own and cuddle against him.

It's near the end of the night when you speak again, though Toshinori can't hear you over the din in the bar.

He leaned down, intending for you to repeat what you'd said in his ear, but instead, you press your forehead up against his in a tender motion that has him freezing in place.

The look on your face was loving. There was no other way to put it, there was no denying it, no amount of self-deprecation that could convince him otherwise - you were looking at him like he'd strung the stars in the sky just for you.

Which he would do, if he could, by the way.

He rasped out your name, unsteady, unsure. He doesn't want this moment to end, but- but you are drunk.

At last, you speak. "I'm glad you came tonight. I was worried you wouldn't. I like… I like being around you, Yagi."

You didn't move away, but instead got closer, cuddling back up to him, your head buried in his thin chest again.

His heart was beating so loudly, so quickly. Could you hear it? Surely you could.

"I… I'm glad I came tonight too," he finally replied, placing a hand on your back.

prompt list / accepting!

[notes-in-the-margins]

The next chapter of Teachers lounge is written! Just need my fabulous editor @weepynymph to have a go over then it’ll be published! It’s the longest chapter yet AND it’s basically 99% Jess and Rory 😁

[fandomsandfeminism]

Is there anything more bone-chilling as a woman who teaches in a middle school than when a male coworker starts to complain about kids breaking the dress code? (Or not EVEN breaking the actual dress code since ours is really lax, but breaking the dress code in their mind)

It's never good.

It's never a good time.

[idiopath-fic-smile]

for @msilverstar, who gave generously to Somos Un Pueblo Unido, and asked for something involving the WAR teachers. So have some headcanons about Ms. Hucheloup (whose classroom Enjolras and co use for the ABC).

-

When Susan Hucheloup finally gets away from grading papers long enough to slip off to the teachers' lounge, Mr. Walker is in the middle of a rant, to Dahlia, who absolutely doesn't care.

"—and I almost had to send Enjolras home yesterday," Walker's saying. "He was wearing a shirt slandering the president—in the middle of the war! It was disgusting, not to mention distracting to students who wanted to learn—"

Susan's ears prick up. "I assume the reason you didn't was Tinker Vs. Des Moines?" she says mildly.

"What?" Walker pivots towards Susan, coffee cup frozen halfway to his mouth, which is bobbing open like a fish.

"The Supreme Court—" Susan starts.

"I know Tinker Vs Des Moines," Walker snaps. "It's my goddamn subject."

"So you obviously know it would violate his first First Amendment rights, to actually—"

Walker cuts her off again. "You know what, Susan? I have had it to here, and I don't need to hear it from you." His eyes narrow. "Any idea of how he heard about it?"

Susan crosses the room, drops a tea bag in a clean mug. "Maybe his last history teacher told him," she says. "Maybe his parents. Maybe he read one of those books that tries to get kids excited about civic participation." She shrugs. "I really couldn't say, it's not my subject."

The bell rings.

Dahlia glances up from her newspaper. "George, don't you have a class this hour?"

At that, Walker hurries out the door, undrunk coffee forgotten on the counter. Good. She hopes it goes cold before he remembers it's there.

"Enjolras and some of his friends asked me if they can use my classroom on Mondays after school," Susan tells Dahlia, filling her mug with hot water. "They want to start a social justice club." "What'd you tell them?" asks Dahlia, standing to dump Walker's coffee in the sink.

"I said, 'Absolutely.' But now I'm thinking, they might want to meet a few times a week. And maybe they'd want some art supplies, to make protest signs and stuff?"

"And what budget does that come out of?" says Dahlia, raising her eyebrows.

Susan smiles. "The sheer fucking spite fund."

[noahsarchipelago]

Today’s comic, “In the Belly of the Teachers’ Lounge Beast,” in which Inspector Ursula psyches herself out about what horrors the teachers may be planning.

[se7enpixels]

The Teachers' Lounge // Das Lehrerzimmer (2023) dir. İlker Çatak