#teachers who read

[homkamiro]

Heavy language

[tanatola]

pathologic 3 announcement made me return to the classic game and finally play it properly! i think my favorite part of the bachelor's route is when he talks to maria kaina (or whoever's in her body at the time) and they explain that their planned Utopia isn’t even supposed to be a 'perfect' place but instead 'the mystical manifestation of a world inscrutable and inaccessible to men' going back to the original meaning of the word irl and instead of despairing Daniil fervently agrees that this kind of unimaginable leap is worth it, no matter where it actually leads

[tenowls]

teacher getou au...... wauh

[shalom-iamcominghome]

If you're having trouble with the hebrew writing systems, here is a very good chart to use:

Some quick tips:

Learning the cursive script is daunting, but it's so much easier to use, I think.

Use both writing systems, though! Writing is a great way to understand letters and how they are placed and used in a practical sense.

[space-sheep08]

Actually so tired that people mainly focus on the bdsm when they talk about La Pianiste when we literally have this dynamic right here. Like, that's insane.

What if you were a little girl in her 40's who couldn't grow up because of your mother-wife who made you sleep in her bed and forced you to repress every sexual desires and thoughts of becoming your own person just to keep you close to her ? What if you fought back and yearned for dangerous things out of her reach ? But also, what if you let her because it's all you've ever known and been taught to want ?

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[whathorselegs]

Fuck it, until canon tells me otherwise I've decided Botchan by Natsume Soseki is Kunikida's back story.

Studied mathematics because he didn't know what he wanted to do with his life.

Took a job as a maths teacher somewhere far from his home.

Was immediately seen as an outsider and hazed by the school children.

Befriended exactly one teacher.

Got caught up in the political power struggle between the teachers there.

Has his friendship corrupted by the more dishonest teachers, which leads to a big fall out between them before they realize they've been tricked.

Gets repeatedly swindled and tricked by the dishonest teachers until he and the one teacher he befriended reach a breaking point and beat them up for it.

Quits his job and leaves town before the consequences can catch up with him.

All of this happens in under a month.

[eddis-not-eeddis]

In my early twenties I know more theology than most men in the churches I've attended who are twice my age. This isn't a boast, I am no scholar. I say this in abject horror and despair.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The world if people stopped applying their understanding of "conservatism" and "religion/christianity" through a very modern, deeply American view onto Death Note (a manga from the Early-mid 2000s which is very much set in the cultural and societal context of early-mid 2000s Japan and all that entails):

[mariatesstruther]

okay but sarah celebrating tommy every year for mother’s day

[acepalindrome]

The frustrating thing is so many kids think Shakespeare is boring because it’s being taught badly to them. These were PLAYS. They weren’t meant to be read, they were meant to be performed and viewed!! If you read the screenplay of your favorite movie, it’s still not going to have the same impact as watching it! Start with teaching the students the basics of understanding the language, then watch a fairly straight forward adaptation of the work, then read the work, then watch a more wild adaptation that really stretches what you can do with the Bard (Romeo + Juliet, She’s the Man, Throne of Blood, etc.) THAT is the way to get students to engage with Shakespeare.

[mxtxfanatic]

Just for the record, I actually don’t hate any mdzs character. Mxtx’s stories are so well-crafted that I love the roles that every character plays. I love the chills and digust that Jin Guangyao inspires in me. I loved the hatred that Xue Yang causes to flare up in me when I reread the Yi City arc. I love the amusement I get every time Jiang Cheng lives up to his failed-hero role, doubly so when I remember that he is also a failed-villain because Xue Yang is actually the better version of him lmao. I love dissecting Nie Mingjue’s hypocrisy in what it means when Wei Wuxian thinks of him as an “upholder of morality.” I love the pity that I feel for Lan Xichen such that I struggle to commit to how I view him just like how he struggles with how to view those he loves. And the complexity and diversity of each character’s life experiences and autonomous choices is the icing on the cake that makes fans’ (me included) obsessions over them wholly understandable.

What I hate is feeling coerced into liking a character how fandom wants me to like them, especially if the “evidence” supporting liking said character is just popular fanon that the fandom has taken as gospel truth. The more I feel pressured into ignoring a character’s canon personality to adopt a fanfic version of them whose only similarity is that they share a name, the harsher I want to be with my critique of them. Don’t give me morally righteous!Nie Mingjue who totally would’ve defended the Wen and I won’t give you hypocrite!Nie Mingjue who deserved to be cut into pieces, just not by the person who did it. Don’t give me best brother, best jiujiu!Jiang Cheng and I won’t give you pathetic manbaby!Jiang Cheng who deserved to have Wei Wuxian’s golden core removed from him the hard way for his ungratefulness and for his sister to come back to life to bitch slap him for how he treats her son. Don’t give me best bro wangxian shipper!Lan Xichen and I won’t give you morally weak!Lan Xichen who deserved every bit of the psychological torture Nie Huaisang put him through for his inability to truly stand by any of his brothers, biological or sworn.

Don’t give me some “everyone is secretly good with no flaws” bullshit and I won’t feel the need to balance it out by listing every single one of their sins and nailing it to the door like Martin Luther. I like these characters. Don’t turn me into a hater, cause if you think I’m mean now? Lol

[sabh0]

oh btw recently two of my irls said my artstyle 'looks american' and even tho i have no frickin idea what that is supposed to mean, i feel deeply offended and will quit art if anyone says that again [insert a heart emoji i cant add from my pc] [technically i can copy paste it but no] /hj

[massy2ly]

No one

Kant’s bother:

[karliahs]

disappointing that we don't know who canonically teaches the gen ed class homerooms because I have to imagine whoever it is wants aizawa's fucking blood

[youremyonlyhope]

I love when I see posts like "Share how many crochet WIPs you currently have! I have 5, it's so many!"

Like, girl, I have unfinished projects from over a decade ago that I refuse to frog on the off chance I decide to finish them. I've found years-old projects I forgot I even started and will impulsively just finish it on the spot. I've started three different projects in the last 2 months, including one I started yesterday, that I already know I may or may not finish within the year depending on motivation.

The number of WIPs I have is infinite.