It’s okay to be discouraged sometimes. To get tired of the misgendering, the misunderstanding. It’s okay to get frustrated over having to explain yet again that you are trans/nonbinary, and these are your pronouns, this is your name. It’s okay to feel doubt and lose hope sometimes.
But don’t forget the golden moments. In the midst of all the negativity, cling to the moments that you are gendered correctly. That people use your name and pronouns without being prompted.
It won’t all be sunshine and rainbows, but that’s why you should cling to those good moments all the more tightly.
me: so hey even though snape did some shitty things, he also did some amazingly brave and good things & it’d be cool if we could acknowledge that instead of sweeping it under the rug because he was a dick
some goblin from the pits of hell: that’s called supporting child abuse sweaty :)
warnings: super fucking cute fluff, my heart hurts omg
word count: 3,013
The school yard transformed just as the sun went down. It was still full of children as it was during the day, but there was a different whimsical feeling in the air. Maybe it was because all the students were at a school event in which they weren’t faced with the stresses of school itself. Regardless of what it was about it, the celebration had kicked off. All the students from kindergarten to year 6 were invited along with their friends and family to come down, have a burger, have some ice pops, and have a bit of a dance on the blacktop while the DJ blasted music across the premises. Some of the teachers were asked to help with grilling for a portion of the night and of course, Harry agreed. It was meant to be a fundraiser for the school, but also a way to get the kids excited to be back in school for the year.
Naturally, anything that had to do with getting kids excited to learn, Harry was all about. He lived for the moments when kids would look at him in shock when he told them one of his fact of the day, for when they read something on their worksheets that inspired them and the times they’d be reading a book and would come back the next day to tell him all about how cool it was. Being a teacher was Harry’s calling, much like being a father was.
I of course saved the best for last: Okosan x Everyone. No one can resist that majestically manly demigod. Too bad the only fulfillment in life he seeks is the True Pudding.
As soon as the prompt list was released, I knew I had to draw an Okosan harem. Enjoy….
Thank you so much to @hatofulshipweek, I’ve had so much fun and I’ve really really enjoyed seeing everyone’s fantastic contributions - I’m actually really sad I’ve completed it now! Here’s to the next one - whenever that may be!
So today I had a meeting with my one of my two amazing art teachers regarding my portfolio for Art Foundation applications which I will do at the beginning of next year. She said that she wasn’t worried about me making any new content because apparently I already have a lot of great stuff which will give me a fighting chance in my application.
Everything was going really well, so I decided to talk to her about illustration in my portfolio and I whipped out my 3 sketchbooks which are where I make all the stuff I post on this tumblr. I was extremely nervous about showing her this but I honestly trust her with my life so I was prepared for whatever criticism she would have about the work. Much to my surprise, she was actually impressed with the amount of work I had on Undertale and the development of my style and standard from when I started in March to now. She said that she want’s me to make an A1 page of digital artwork in my portfolio showcasing high quality pieces of skeletons and that I should start a sketchbook where I record my designs and concepts.
I’M DOING AN ART PROJECT ON SKELETONS FOR MY FOUNDATION APPLICATION I’M FUCKING SHOOKETH
I need to talk to my other art teacher about this project so she knows what I’m doing and also so that she can give me her opinion on what I should focus on as I value her opinion a lot and I have a very limited time frame to complete this project alongside school art (which is due in December). I’m honestly so happy that she saw this blog as an opportunity for me to showcase illustration work, so within the next couple of weeks and until about January I’ll be working on designing art based off of my Undertale skeleton style. AND SHE SAID IT HAS TO BE DIGITAL SO YOUR BOY IS GONNA GET BETTER AT IT BECAUSE HE’LL USE IT A LOT! I just felt like sharing this slice of sunshine and happiness from what was a very depressing and sad day for me. I’m gonna post all my artwork from my project that I don’t include in my portfolio on here because then you guys can see what the fuck I’m doing and I think it’ll make for some cool content.
I can't believe that you a teacher support Rey/o. A toxic ship that will probably become canon because toxic shit sells ie Harley Quinn and joker will be a bad influence on your students and you are supporting it! It's like you dgaf about your students at all!
I… I think I just turned into my icon. I have reached maximum Hux levels of salt.
summary: atletico madrid get knocked out of the copa del rey and antoine looks to his girlfriend for comfort
You hadn’t been able to make it to the game that evening. Instead of heading to Barcelona to watch the match live and cheer Atletico on from the stands, you’d been forced to
rely on Twitter, thanks to your boss insisting on holding a meeting the next morning at 9am.
If it were any other match, you would have been disappointed. Instead, you’re kind of grateful. Watching Antoine’s face fall and a sad
smile grace his features as the team applauded the away fans had been bad enough through your laptop
screen, and you’re pretty sure seeing it in the flesh would have been enough to make
you never want to watch a football match again.
“I listen attentively to my teachers, and I tend to be deeply influenced by what they say. But when I told the teachers who usually said good job to me that I wanted to apply to a U.S. high school, they said it wouldn’t work. They said that the Korean and American education systems were too different, so they wouldn’t really choose me when there are kids who learned that way all along. I was upset, and I wondered if they were saying those things because they’d already seen my limits. So I was afraid even while I was asking for recommendation letters. No matter how well they might write, in the end, it will be painted with a certain nuance. I became afraid that, if the teacher had even the slightest doubt about my path, it might come out in the writing.” “Is there also a person who helped you?” “The person who helped me was also a teacher. This teacher supported me from the very beginning. I let all my worries flood out and said, ‘I don’t know how many schools I should apply to.’ The others said it wouldn’t work, but my teacher told me, ‘No matter how many you apply to, you’ll get all of them.’”
“전 선생님들을 잘 따르고, 선생님들 말에 영향을 많이 받는 편이에요. 그런데 평소에 저한테 잘한다고 해주던 선생님들이, 미국 고등학교에 입학원서를 넣고 싶다고 했더니 안 된다고 말씀하시더라고요. 한국의 교육방식과 미국의 교육방식은 너무 다르고, 그대로 배워왔던 애들이 있는데 굳이 저를 뽑으려하겠냐고 하셨어요. 속상하기도 했고, 제 한계를 벌써 보셔서 그러시나 하는 생각도 들었어요. 그러니까 추천서를 부탁드리면서도 두려웠어요. 아무리 잘 적어주시더라도 결국 쓰는 사람의 말의 뉘앙스가 묻어나잖아요. 그 선생님이 조금이라도 제 진로에 대해 의문이 든다면 그게 글에서 드러나지는 않을까 싶어서 조마조마하게 되더라고요.” “힘이 되었던 사람도 있나요?” “힘이 되었던 분도 선생님이었어요. 처음부터 저를 응원해주신 선생님이요. 제가 '몇 개의 학교에 지원을 해야 될 지 잘 모르겠어요'라고 한 분께 고민을 털어놨더니 '너는 몇개를 지원해도 다 붙을 거야'라고 말씀해주셨어요. 다들 안 될 거라고 하셨는데…”
@littlestpersimmon this isn’t very good because I’ve been writing it on a note on my phone but I thought maybe you’d enjoy my ideas about kindergarten!Kent and his teacher.
The best kindergarten teacher I know was a certified scuba diver… and after graduating high school I decided to become one too, because their passion stuck with me. I’ve had a history of passionate teachers who love what they do, and I wanted that for Kent.
Hockey doesn’t enter the life of Kent Parson seriously until the very first day of kindergarten. Mrs Smith is an older lady (well, old to kindergarteners but probably only a decade into her teaching career) and she’s well known and well lived in the community. And she’s absolutely mad for hockey.
His first day is okay. He’s kind of afraid at first, but he’s Kent Parson and by snack time he’s got a gaggle of friends and they’re eagerly listening to Mrs Smith read a hockey book. When he’s picked up by his mom that evening after the after-school program he excitedly tells her all about his day.
His mother recalls in an interview after he’s drafted by the Aces that it was the first time he’d ever mentioned playing hockey. And that’s when life changed.
Mommy enrolled him in a learn to play hockey program a few weeks later, after getting a flyer in his backpack from a kind Mrs Smith, who saw Kent’s excitement and knew of a program that was affordable and single parent friendly.
Kent learned a lot that year. He learned every NHL team from the pennants on the walls (and how to read them!) all the jerseys of his favorite players (and numbers!) how to work together (like on a hockey team!) and how to work alone (like a penalty shot!!). He learned to skate forwards and backwards, how to hockey stop and even got to play goalie!
Dear Mrs Smith sees that excitement Kent has for the game on the weekends when she goes to all the games her husband coaches: mites and squirts and peewees and bantams. Of course at Kent’s level the little ones are following the puck in a group and still wobbling around on shaky legs, but she’s here for the joy, not the sick plays. They watch enough professional NHL hockey at home, weekend days are for the kids and their unbridled joy for things they love.
Her favorite memory of little Kent Parson was his last day of kindergarten when he hugged her and told her that she could wear his jersey someday, promise! She had smiled and hugged him back and sent him on his way to first grade, thankful once again for the job she got to do every year.
She keeps tabs on as many of her kids as she can. Bobby married three years ago and has a little girl, Shelly swims for a college down south, Austin moved to New York to act, Janie’s oldest daughter is in her new class.
But she can’t help but tear up when a picture of little Kent Parson lifting the Stanley Cup over his head is the front page of the local news. She and her husband attend the parade the city holds, and John has the picture of Kent hoisting the Stanley Cup over his head framed for her classroom.
And her favorite memory of the no longer so little Kent Parson is when he awkwardly knocks on her classroom door a few days before he heads back to Vegas, a backwards cap on his head and a jersey under his arm.
She didn’t think he’d remembered her, which was fine. Her job was to give her small ones a solid foundation for their education, a passion for learning, a good first year to grow and learn.
But when he holds out the jersey for her with that same silly smile she’d seen years ago on a much smaller Kent Parson she can’t help but grin and ignore the jersey while she wrapped him up in a hug.
After letting him go, she takes the offered jersey and flips it over to see his name on the back.
“I told you that you could wear my jersey someday, Mrs Smith.” He says softly, his eyes flitting around the pennants that still grace the walls, eyes lighting up when he sees the Aces one in the collection. “I had to keep my promise.”
And for that, she has to wrap sweet little Kent Parson up in another hug, jersey once again forgotten on her desk.