#professional presentations

[princessoftheroad]

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[shrimpyjackal]

I am finally done with this thing

also different version (so you can see my tears on that couch and everything else better) + closeup of Kris cause they`re so itty-bitty

[187days]

Day Twenty-Nine

Today was a teacher workshop day, so we all got to sleep in a bit later (8:00AM start rather than 7:30AM), and start a bit more slowly than usual. First, we met in the library for a brief presentation about available resources, current and future programming, etc... Fun fact: the librarian was one of my students my very first year of teaching, so it's kind of cool for me to see her in this role now.

After that, we all had to break up into our old NEASC groups because, unbelievably, it's five-year report time. The Principal allotted two hours for each group to report on a particular standard, and, me being me, I made it my goal to use as little of that time as possible. One talent I have is that I can hear and type incredibly quickly, so I've always just told the group to discuss whatever we're discussing, and I put what they're saying into paragraph form. Then they check it, we edit as needed, that's that. And that's exactly what we did today.

Mr. V was added to our group, though he didn't have much to say since he's new and all. But, afterwards- which was maybe forty minutes later, so I totally met my goal- some of our other colleagues were remarking on how I conduct these work sessions, and he said that my brain works very differently from his. I said, "My brain usually annoys people," which is true, but he said he'd known a bunch of officers like me when he was in the military. I laughed, and said that tracked since the army raised me (dad on active duty, ROTC cadet babysitters, etc, etc...)

So that was amusing.

I used the spare time I'd created for myself to read some Culture Project drafts and clean my classroom, so I'll have less to do on Tuesday when we return. Pretty happy about that!

After those two hours were up, everyone could choose to attend one of three professional development sessions run by folks in the building. One of the special ed. teachers and I ran one that was about building an "accomodations toolbox," which I think went pretty well. We shared out a bunch of resources, discussed how they could be used in various situations, demonstrated some of the tech resources worked (ie- I showed everyone how to modify readings on ChatGPT), etc.. We actually did the session twice, once before lunch and once after lunch, so that teachers could get multiple PD opportunities.

The Principal left the last hour of the day open for us to take care of our classrooms, meet as departments or PLCs, or whatever else we needed to do. Let me go back to lunch, though. It was a potluck/competition, so we filled the cafeteria with a ton of delicious food (I contributed maple cookies made with my family's maple syrup). I walked down with Mr. N and Mr. C, but at one point Mr. C walked off, which I worried might've been because Mr. N and I were talking mile-a-minute and he was sick of us (and I am a socially awkward butterfly, so I do worry about this kind of thing overly much). He came back and sat with us and a few others, though, and I discovered he's a soccer fan like I am. Buuuut he's a fan of entirely the wrong teams.

So there will be banter.

[6esiree]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫

Neither of you could make heads or tails of how a silly little game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ evolved into a string of drunken confessions, nor how you wound up in such an intimate position, lips tentatively hovering over each other in a mixture of excitement and trepidation as the two of you encroached upon uncharted territory. One from inexperience, and the other from ‘grievances’ with past lovers—they had been mediocre kissers. All of them. Somehow.

“May I touch you?”

“Oh, that sounded… kind of weird. Sorry, let me rephrase that.”

“May I put my hand, uh, on your cheek?”

But with the alcohol churning in your veins, squashing whatever second thoughts that would have otherwise came to be, neither of you had the courage to pull away. You were nervous, afraid of disappointing him, even though you weren’t the one who begrudgingly admitted that you had not an inkling of experience. And Alastor, well, his pride and his curiosity managed to overpower whatever uncertainty he felt over the situation.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you may.”

You lifted your hand from the counter, the pads of your fingers reaching for his face. There was a slight stutter in your movements, especially as you brushed Alastor’s cheekbone, the skin there unnervingly cold. But you thought little of it, because, the moment you flattened your palm against his cheek and craned your neck, his breath hitched in his throat. A delicious, vulnerable sound that almost made you tumble off the barstool.

“Well? Do something before I change my mind.”

Alastor’s voice was low, domineering, and it reminded you of who exactly you were dealing with, your skin flaring up in embarrassment. A stammered out apology graced his ears, and though he had already failed in appearing unaffected, unbeknownst to you, it was a small victory he relished in. He was just as nervous as you were—if not more—but you couldn’t know that. No, not ever. It would hurt his pride. His dignity.

Thus, he was the one who ultimately took the initiative, boldly cupping your chin with his thumb and his forefinger before pressing his lips against yours. It was obvious to you and anybody who may have walked into the scene unfolding at the bar that Alastor was inexperienced, his mouth barely moving against yours. He didn’t care, though. He couldn’t. Not with the way you responded after you recovered from your embarrassment.

A delighted gasp left your lips.

“Move your mouth… like… like this.”

Then you demonstrated what to do.

Your free hand fell onto his chest, palm situated right above his heart. If you weren’t so focused on parting your lips and smoothly gliding them against his, showing him exactly how you’d like him to kiss you, you would have known how affected he truly was by the entire situation. In fact, as he moved his fingers down to your jaw and imitated what you’d done, he realized he hadn’t felt like this in so long. Alive. Pumped full with adrenaline.

And when you tentatively sucked in his lower lip and gave it a small nibble, Alastor somehow managed to equate kissing you to when he was a young, rampant overlord, fearlessly conquering soul after soul, especially after he imitated you once more. His teeth were far sharper than yours, so it was no surprise that he wound up drawing blood in the process. You whimpered, but he was too distracted by the taste of iron on his tongue.

“Hey, are you not going to apologize for that?”

It had been a while since he had fresh blood.

“Ah, well, allow me to apologize with another kiss.”

Even after the two of you sobered up and left to your respective rooms, reeling from what had transpired, it wouldn’t be the last time you would find each other’s lips. Though Alastor had an aptitude for ‘accidentally’ puncturing your lower lip every time you’d do so, you didn’t mind. He always followed up with an apology, but, ever since Charlie recruited you to the Hazbin Hotel, you told him you’d learned how to be more ‘forgiving.’

[cardo-de-comer]

i don't like drawing on paper and haven't done it in years. Nice trying again tho, the benefit is silly stickers that you can put on a page

[belfry-ghost]

Batgirl!Tim AU

Plain text of the info under the cut.

A Tim-centric roleswap AU, featuring Batgirl!Tim and Robin!Cass.

Tim Drake, instead of bringing his case against Batman to Dick Grayson, approaches Oracle. She recruits him as a minion and successor.

Despite carefully curating his entire costume to pass as effectively as possible, it still takes Tim several years to realize he's not as cis as he thought.

As it says on the FAQ, I'm still in the process of reading some relevant comics so there isn't much firm plot at this point. I will be taking a pretty fast and loose approach to the timeline of events though lol

[kannra21]

Rafayel calm down that's your friend 😂

[touyafootfetish]

this will never not be funny to me I’m sorry 😭😓

[little-annie]

Cowboy!Steddie | PBR | Enemies with Benefits | Strangers to Lovers

Team #058 for @steddiebbang || @oriarts @lihhelsing

Now that the anonymity ban has lifted, here's a little sneak peek of my first steddie bang.

banner by @oriarts & moodboard by myself

🔞 Excerpt Under The Cut

8 seconds is all it takes to change Steve Harrington’s life. 

To give the woes of his past the potential to slip through his fingers and to finally find a sliver of happiness. To find someone that could bring him the joy in life that he lacks beneath the suffocating weight of his father's thumb.

7 to enter Nachbar on Charles in Louisville, Kentucky.

A bar he's frequented ever since he was two years shy of old enough—having been a patron simply for the fact of convenience and the pleasure of another's body pressed against his own. He wonders what his father would think if he knew every time Steve came to town with a load of cattle or horses that he too managed to find someone to swallow the stress of his life along with a shot of bourbon.

6 to order a beer and a shot of his usual in an effort to shut off his mind, hoping that at least he can get a few minutes of silence and a shitty drink out of such a worthless day doing his fathers bidding.

5 to choke the fucking thing down and chase it with half a bottle of Coors, trying his best to not shiver as the awful combination makes its way over his tongue and down his throat.

4 to notice the guy at the end of the bar whose eyes have yet to leave his lips. Who has an amber bottle of his own lazily clasped between ringed fingers, easily drawing Steve's attention to the porcelain skin of his hands.

3 to feel the rush of heat that floods his cheeks as he takes in those onyx eyes, that mess of whiskey curls, and the way sharp teeth bite into a plump bottom lip as Steve absentmindedly licks his own.

2 to take the first step in Mr. Brown Eyes’ direction.

And 1 to decide fuck it.

Falling into the wobbling barstool next to the mysterious young man, Steve feigns confidence as whiskey-sweet words fall from his lips. 

“Aren't from around here, are ya?” His resolve fractures only in the slightest as that damn bitten bottom lip pulls into an enticing smirk.

Before he knows it, he's a second bourbon in with his tongue down a beautiful man's throat and his hand shoved down the front of tight black Levi's. Feeling the warmth and weight held in his palm, he can't find it in himself to complain about the uncomfortable angle or the way his wrist feels like it just might fracture in-between them.

It's not like his usual bar bathroom hookup—not that he does this all that often—but Eddie—as Steve learned only sheer seconds before their lips collided in a desperate crash—is attentive, and somehow manages to be sweet and gentle even while rutting his swollen cock into the grooves of Steve's palm, and sucking on his tongue. 

With the taste of cheap cigarettes and shitty bourbon dancing over his taste buds, Steve hears himself moaning with every slow roll of his hips as he grinds against the solid line of Eddie's body and his groping hands.

Tangling in his hair and wrapping firming around his waist—while one hand seems to be preoccupied edging him nearer and nearer to his end—Eddie's other hand feels as if it's everywhere all at once. 

Each grip, dizzying. Every caress, tantalizing. The very feel of those ringed fingers gliding over his skin and beneath the fabric of his shirt only pushes Steve nearer to his climax.

Pale blue light buzzing above them, somehow even in such artificial rays Eddie's the most beautiful thing Steve’s seen. 

The lighting of a dive bar bathroom has never seemed to do Steve justice, but with raspy words slurred over his tongue calling him every version of beautiful in the book—well—maybe he could consider himself wrong.

He's never had a hookup moan against his lips purely due to the fact that his neck is littered with moles or that his ‘eyes glitter like the gold scattered through the Arizona desert.’

Nor has he had anyone notice the skip in his heart rate when his shoulder flares with pain upon raising his arm—ghosting gentle fingers over the still-clothed joint, only to pull the fabric aside to reveal the raised pink of scarred skin and press gentle lips to the still-healing riding injury. Then to his neck, his cheek, and back to his lips. 

Something about Eddie's kisses taste sweeter then. As if in his detour to lay affections to Steve's skin, he somehow managed a spoonful of sugar in-between.

He can't remember the last time someone's lips had tasted so sweet.

Greedy for every grain of sugar-sweet that he can bear to stand, Steve hums and tries his damndest to not devour Eddie entirely.

In his restraint, time slows. Though only for a short while as Eddie pulls away to gently cradle Steve's jaw in his grasp. Brushing his thumb along Steve's bottom lip and looking him in the eyes, he tells him—for not the first time—just how beautiful he really is—as if he says it enough, Steve will have no choice but to believe him.

Leaning into Eddie's touch to nose along his palm, Steve thinks it's a wild thing to feel so cared for in an otherwise shit-hole of a place.

The lights are flickering, the stall door hardly concealing them is hanging uselessly from a single hinge, and lord only knows what their boots are standing in—but with Neon Moon by Brooks and Dunn playing over the speakers, and the smell of cigarette smoke and bourbon flooding his senses, Steve feels so easily adored and hungered for at the same time.

He hopes Eddie feels a similar sort of comfort, even if all Steve believes he can offer the man is a good time and words just as sweet as the ones falling to his kiss-bitten lips. There's no way he's going to let Eddie leave this bathroom without.

Eventually they get off—Eddie into Steve's palm and Steve into the cotton of his underwear—and surprisingly, it's not awkward from then on. Not as they wash up, not as they sit back down at the bar, and not as Eddie chooses to stay when Steve offers him the easy out he does to all of his one time hookups.

He can't remember the last time anyone bothered to stay—can't remember the last time he didn't feel like somebody's one-and-done either.

They don't stick around for long—what with the bar growing busier and the night stretching on—and find themselves taking a cab back to Eddie's apartment before the clock manages to strike midnight.

The drive is short and though they know to keep their affections from the eyes of their unknown cab driver, they still manage to trade knowing glances, brushed fingers, and a handful of whispered words when they know the driver is otherwise occupied.

Eddie repeats his earlier praises of Steve's beauty, and Steve—while helpless but to blush what Eddie tells him is a stunning shade of pink—presses a quick kiss to Eddie's cheek and lets him know exactly what he plans on doing when they reach his home.

[the-bus-called-graveyard-8]

[project-sekai-facts]

I heard haruka and kanade have eating disorders. do they?

kanade sometimes skips meals (though she has gotten better over time what with honami preparing her food and now having to take care of mafuyu), and her diet mainly consists of pot noodle and energy bars, unless someone else prepares it. the game recognises that this is a problem.

haruka... essentially she has the diet of an athlete. because of her idol work, she's gotten into the habit of mainly eating healthy meals and finds it hard to get out of this habit after so many years (not to mention she almost immediately went back to being an idol after quitting). however when she has a treat day she will eat comedic amounts of cakes and pastries in one go. she pays a lot of attention to calorie intake and such but it's presented as solely a athlete diet thing and not as an ED. the cake thing is just for comedy but i think that + the inability to break her healthy eating plan is where the idea of the ED comes from. The game doesn't recognise it as one though I don't think they intended that at all.

[xmintpiex]

today’s thoughts are of chigiri having a crush on his sister’s friend

[clonerightsagenda]

This is a minor thing to be annoyed about especially as the overall point was sound but someone in my org made a comment about how our aid/support team is almost entirely "women and femmes" and like. leave me out of this. I wear baggy shirts and pants. I never wear makeup. My hair is chin to shoulder length I suppose but what else am I supposed to do here, buzz it and go exclusively by they/them? I don't want to do either of those things but idk if I can escape being lumped into the "femme" category unless I chop my barely visible chest off apparently

[mpregstuff]

Board Meeting w/ Pregnant CEO | In a bold twist on traditional boardroom dynamics, a nine-month pregnant man commands the room, effortlessly blending professionalism with personal flair. Dressed in a sharp business suit and sporting a full beard, he stands confidently at the head of the table, visibly pregnant with twins—his round belly unmistakably prominent even as he leads the discussion. As he points to a presentation slide, the image cleverly mirrors his own journey, featuring a curve that strikingly echoes the shape of his belly. The atmosphere crackles with energy, as curious glances and admiring nods fill the room. Colleagues around the long table appear intrigued and inspired by this unexpected leader, who challenges conventions while juggling the demands of both work and impending parenthood. Conversations flow as ideas are shared; the blend of anticipation and professional ambition hangs thick in the air. This is a meeting like no other—where business goals intersect with the beautiful chaos of life. In today's boardroom, boundaries are pushed, norms are broken, and leadership takes on a whole new shape. More images are also available at https://mpregstuff.com.

[agnesandhilda]

"kaiser should go to therapy instead of being a professional athlete who gets trauma flashbacks whenever he feels like he's failed" I said, which is a courageous and unique opinion that no one has ever had before

[touyafootfetish]

ERASERMIC CRUMBS. Guys I’m nervous I NEED closure.