ms. mr

in high school i didn’t really connect with anyone i had three best friends and then I didn’t even know most people’s names and I’m pretty sure everyone thought i was weird ‘cause I never talked, but I loved half of high school because like, I was friends with all the teacher’s to the point where I ate lunch in their rooms and they just let me do what I want. Like

- I dropped using “mr/ms./mrs” within the first few weeks of freshmen year and just called them by their last names and they were just like “fine”
- one time when the printer ran out of paper i laid on the ground for the whole class period and my teacher just let it slide. and when a student teacher went to tell me to get up my regular teacher went “no, just let her go. She doesn’t deal with inconvenience well.”

- I sat at their desks while they walked around during lectures. I’d just spring up from my desk and sit down and they’d be like “whatever”

- me and one teacher were so sarcastic with each other to the point where if I interrupted a lecture to say a stupid joke some of my classmates would literally put down their pens and lean back in their chairs cause they knew this would go on for about 15 minutes

- they knew I had social anxiety and one time when I was up to speak in front of the class I told my teacher, with absolutely nothing on my desk or in my hands, that I was busy and he just said “okay” and let me skip it (that made a couple students mad lol)

- I spent hours in the nurse’s office if I was having a rough day, sometimes teaching her how to use the internet. (She’d go to google and type in website urls, including ‘www.’. I was like “No, no you don’t need to do that.”)

- one time the librarian excused me from classes so I could show her kids around on bring your kids to work day

- one time my teacher got something in his eyes so he had me take him to the nurse’s office and I stayed there with him until he could see again

- during study period I helped one of my teacher’s online shop

- one of my teacher’s was so chill with me that when I was being a smart ass she would roll her eyes and say “shut the fuck up”

- when I fell down the stairs and dislocated my kneecap they flipped shit. Like one teacher got down on the floor and put my head in her lap so I was more comfortable while another cleared gathering students away and the gym teacher jogged over to help and two other teacher’s rushed out of their rooms to help even though I already had the nurse (who had brought blankets for me for some reason) and one of them even started crying and rode in the ambulance with me (my knee was too fucked up to just slide back into place right there) and another teacher went and got my brother for me. I felt so bad ‘cause they all looked so sad so I made jokes while I was literally going into shock and they just laughed and were like “of course. of course she makes jokes now”

The reason most of them were there was because I was yelling so loud I was heard through several halls

also when I came back with a cast and crutches almost all of them visited me during my study hall

- one of these teacher’s always came off like he was really stern and mean (he couldn’t help it, it was just his face and the fact that his humor was really dry/sarcastic) so when a new year started and he got new students we’d set up a plan where I’d burst into his room super casual like “HEY I GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU” and we’d play out this whole silly argument that showed how he really was and it had the freshmen laughing and relaxing, which by the way made me so fuckin’ happy because I knew how stressful and kinda scary it was to be new in that school
- the ones who knew my birthday bought me a present together

- A tutor that worked for the school (I got really sick so she needed to come to me) ended up becoming a family friend we still keep in touch with

- even one of the substitutes that was literally the meanest lady ever, I didn’t like her one bit, had a soft spot for me and she’d treat me really nicely which pissed a lot of students off but oh well lol

These teachers were the only thing that made high school bearable for me (I was going through a tough time) and they’re the reason I lasted in high school as long as I did. I still ended up dropping out due to some stuff I won’t get into, but they made my life better. I could tell there were some students who were annoyed by what seemed like special treatment but the teachers knew I wasn’t really a school kind of kid and that they really couldn’t do anything about it, so they just embraced who I was

procraesthetics  asked:

I wonder what would happen if Dudley grew up in the wizarding world but still as a muggle? like kind of reverse AU where his parents are dead and he has to go to Lily for whatever reason? do you think he would become bitter like Petunia about magic?

Lily remembered her sister, how there had been a time she was curious and delighted about magic, before it slowly sank in that she could look and not touch.

The last thing Petunia had said to Lily before she died was a chilly goodbye, ending a holiday dinner where they’d had a shrieking row in the entryway. Petunia had said freak and Lily had hissed better than this, better than this being my whole fucking world, Tune, do you even see yourself, are you happy–

And now here was Dudley Vernon Dursley fussing himself to sleep as Lily walked the halls of the Godric’s Hollow house. His tiny soft hands with their tiny soft fingernails curled under her chin, the same way Harry always had.

She passed James, who was gently bouncing his way up the hall the opposite way. “I think he’s asleep,” James mouthed over Harry’s tousled head. His hair was the same mess, bent down to peer at his sleeping son.

Lily stopped where she stood, her nephew heavy on her chest, her husband smiling, her sister buried. “James,” she said. “How are we going to do this?”

“Oh,” he said. “Hey. Don’t you cry, you’ll start them off– unless you need to cry, I mean, you go ahead, hey, sweetheart, hey, it’s alright, you just let it out.” He stepped forward, shifting Harry gently to his other shoulder, and pressed his forehead to hers. “We tuck them in, okay, that’s what we do next. Then we go to our own bed, okay, and go to sleep, and when we wake up it’ll be a new day.”

“A new day,” she said. “Another day– James, that’s the– I’m so tired.”

“So let’s sleep. It’ll look better in the morning,” he said. “And if it doesn’t look better this morning, it’ll look better in the next one.”

“You promise?”

“Better than that. I’ll show you. Every day,” he said and kissed her cold forehead.

Dudley had not shown up on the Potters’ doorstep with the milk bottles. Lily had gotten a phone call from the landline she still had installed in Godric’s Hollow, about an accident, and she had gone down to the Muggle police station to identify the bodies.

The cupboard under the stairs was filled with spiders, broomsticks, and the sewing machine Lily’s mother had given her when she married James– that’s all. Dudley slept downstairs. Uncle Remus taught Dudley and Harry to knock out coded messages through the wall their rooms shared.

In the backyard, beside a rickety porch and an ambitious hedge, James taught them to fly– first on little tot brooms where their toes brushed the grass the whole time, then out of the barrels of practice brooms James used for lessons and coaching Little League Quidditch.

When the boys turned ten, five weeks apart, they both got shiny new Nimbuses on Dudley’s birthday (which came first), and a set of enchanted Quidditch balls on Harry’s, to share. The Bludgers were enchanted to be very kind but Dudley spent long afternoons whacking them far afield while Harry chased the Snitch at his back.

Harry had a scar on his forehead, like a jagged bit of lightning. Dudley had no scars– the car crash that had killed his parents hadn’t touched him where he sat strapped into a car seat in the back, chewing on a stuffed dinosaur toy.

Lily did not believe in lying to the children. She was bare years off being a child herself, and spare moments on the far side of a war. When Dudley asked about his parents, she told him there had been an accident. She pulled pictures off the shelf and wrote Petunia’s old university friends for more.

Photographs came by mailman, the images still and unnatural to Dudley’s eye. Every day he’d gone out to play, for years, he’d been waving at the picture near the back door of his aunt and uncle on their wedding day, and they waved back every time.

“She was very clever,” Lily said. “Your mom liked to know everything.”

“And my dad?”

“Vernon liked… cars?” James offered. “That’s the word, right, Lily?”

“I didn’t know him very well,” Lily said. “He liked drills, I think; he worked for a firm that made them, and he talked about that a lot.”

Dudley brushed his thumbs over the dull edges of the photos. When Lily went off to Auror headquarters the next morning for work, James bundled the boys up and took them on an impromptu invisible tour of Grunnings Drill Manufacturing Inc.

They tiptoed down halls and past water coolers and ringing fellytones. They held hands under the Cloak as they dodged around the machines on the manufacturing floor, thumping and pounding and whirring away loudly enough that Harry and Dudley could whisper to each other under the noise. An elevator took them all the way up to the top floor. Harry whistled cheerily and eerily along with the elevator music while the Muggles slowly edged toward the doors and pressed floor buttons lower than they’d originally wanted.

There were boxes and cabinets and folders and desks and staticky monitor screens full of numbers strewn in endless grids. “Merlin’s knuckles,” said Harry, who was seven and a half and rather proud of this expletive. “People can look at this all day, their whole lives, and not die?”

“Work is hard work,” said James.

“At least mum gets to curse things.”

“But my dad liked it?” Dudley said, peering at a white board that was bleeding enthusiastic marker. “There’s a lot of things, here. Maybe he liked knowing things, too.”

When the boys asked about the scar on Harry’s forehead, Lily and James looked at each other. “You know how sometimes we sit with Uncle Remus and talk about a war?” James said. “Or with Ms. Amelia or Mr. Mundungus.”

“Mr. Mundungus is kinda smelly,” Harry said helpfully.

“It’s not nice to say so though,” said James, and Lily made a face.

“Are we raising them to be nice?” Lily said.

“I’m trying,” said James.

“You talk about a war,” said Harry and shrugged. Dudley nodded.

“There was a very bad man, in those days,” said James.

“Voldemort,” said Lily, and James made a face.

“He was so scary a lot of people don’t like to say his name, even now,” said James. “And he was coming after us because we had been fighting against him, in the war. He came to the house and he tried to hurt you, Harry. But it didn’t work. It hurt him instead, and gave you that scar.”

“Is he going to come back?” said Dudley, who was paler than his normal pink.

“No one’s heard of him since then,” said Lily.

“Where were you?” said Harry, because all his life they had been right there.

“Oh,” said Lily, but her throat closed up.

“We were at Dudley’s mum and dad’s funeral,” said James. “Our friend– our friend Sirius was watching you two. The bad man, he came to the house. He. Well. I.”

“Sirius died,” said Lily, one hand squeezing James’s knee and the other reaching down to brush hair off Dudley’s forehead. “You lived, Harry, and Voldemort vanished. And that’s why sometimes people stare in the streets, baby.” James tweaked Harry’s collar absently.

Two days after they had buried Lily’s sister, the Potters had stood together in the first chills of November and buried James’s brother.

Sirius had been burned off the Black family tree years before. Lily and James had talked to his cousin Andromeda, to Remus, and then they had laid him to rest in the Potter family plot. At the wake, they’d told old jokes about squirrel breath, shedding, and man’s best friend. Remus had fallen asleep on their couch and stayed for a month.

It took a two hour row with HR for Lily to get two passes to the Ministry’s Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

“He’s a Muggle.”

“He’s not,” Lily snapped. “He’s family.”

She had to get permission, sign a million forms, and she also had to take the boys in early so that Dudley could get smothered in the spells that would keep the Anti-Muggle wards around the Ministry from activating on him. “If a Muggle stumbles in somehow, they just see a funny-smelling supply cabinet and turn back around,” Lily told Dudley. He nodded and dragged Harry off by the wrist to go look at the fountain.

The windows were pouring sunlight into the underground room– the maintenance workers had just gotten a win on their contract negotiations and had banished the grimy rain-spattered windows of the previous weeks. The light hit the falling water, the golden statues, and the small excitable crowd of Ministry dependents who were gathering in the atrium. Dudley was fishing about in the fountain for Knuts to toss back out again, elbow-deep, and Harry was laughing and coming up with weird wishes to make on them.

Lily hadn’t said son. She’d said family, and that was true enough, wasn’t it? She didn’t say son– she had a son, and she had a nephew, a ward, another child who came to her after nightmares and scraped knees. It was not less, it was just words.

Lily worried about stealing more things from Petunia. Tuney had shrieked at her, in ladies’ restrooms and suburban foyers, had hissed at her in grocery store aisles and family dinners, because Lily got everything. And now Lily had her son.

Lily could just imagine it– could just see Petunia’s face twisting and chin stabbing at the air. You could have anything, and you took my son– my son!

“You left him to me,” Lily whispered, but that wasn’t quite right. “You left,” she whispered, and that wasn’t quite right either, so she strode off toward the fountain to ask the boys if they wanted to go see the Auror spellwork ranges. Dudley’s sodden shirt sleeves dripped all over the Ministry floors. Harry’s hair fell down into his eyes and they both grinned bright enough to rival the spelled sunlight.

Keep Reading (Ao3)

Keep reading

Virgo vs Pisces by MS MR

Hurricane for Virgo [x]

“Ready for the worst before the damage’s done”
“Welcome to the inner workings of my mind…
So dark and foul I can’t disguise”
 “Keep my eyes open, my lips sealed, my heart closed"
“ Didn’t know getting lost in the blue meant I wound up losing you”

Fantasy for Pisces [x]

“Came to make a connection, force myself in a dimension
Lost sight of myself”
“Maybe I’ll find something real, not a fantasy so divine…
Let myself down each time”
“How could it be what I wanted to see? My reality could never live up to the fantasy in me”

It’s like you took a bottle of ink and you threw it at a wall. Smash! And all that ink spread. And in the middle, it’s dense, isn’t it? And as it gets out on the edge, the little droplets get finer and finer and make more complicated patterns, see? So in the same way, there was a big bang at the beginning of things and it spread. And you and I, sitting here in this room, as complicated human beings, are way, way out on the fringe of that bang. We are the complicated little patterns on the end of it. Very interesting. But so we define ourselves as being only that. If you think that you are only inside your skin, you define yourself as one very complicated little curlique, way out on the edge of that explosion. Way out in space, and way out in time. Billions of years ago, you were a big bang, but now you’re a complicated human being. And then we cut ourselves off, and don’t feel that we’re still the big bang. But you are. Depends how you define yourself. You are actually–if this is the way things started, if there was a big bang in the beginning– you’re not something that’s a result of the big bang. You’re not something that is a sort of puppet on the end of the process. You are still the process. You are the big bang, the original force of the universe, coming on as whoever you are. When I meet you, I see not just what you define yourself as–Mr so-and- so, Ms so-and-so, Mrs so-and-so–I see every one of you as the primordial energy of the universe coming on at me in this particular way. I know I’m that, too. But we’ve learned to define ourselves as separate from it.
What went down in Mr. Pigeon
  • Thomas Astruc: hey Jeremy I had an idea
  • Jeremy Zag: uh-oh
  • Thomas Astruc: it's a supervillain but it's just pigeons
  • Jeremy Zag: I don't understand
  • Thomas Astruc: he's a supervillain, you know?
  • Thomas Astruc: but all he does is pigeons
  • Jeremy Zag: I don't think pigeons are a superpower
  • Thomas Astruc: you got dabbing Santa so let me have this
  • Jeremy Zag: fine
  • INTRO SEQUENCE
  • Mr. Damocles: why don't you all design some hats for Adrien's dad
  • Alya: are you going to teach us how to design hats?
  • Mr. Damocles: no just figure it out
  • Ms. Bustier: these are impeccable teaching methods
  • Alya: how do you not have this under control Marinette
  • Marinette: I HAVE NOTHING UNDER CONTROL
  • Alya: ok that's valid
  • Chloé: hey Sabrina so here's my new evil plan
  • Chloé: we wait for Marinette to come up with some design
  • Chloé: then we take a photo of it
  • Chloé: and I pay somebody to design the EXACT SAME THING
  • Chloé: this is defs my greatest evil plan yet
  • Sabrina: it won't be suspicious when you and Marinette submit the same thing?
  • Chloé: nah I don't see a problem
  • Sabrina: kk so imma take some initiative on this one
  • Sabrina: imma sneak into Marinette's house tonight
  • Sabrina: and imma gonna slit her throat
  • Chloé: whoa! too dark! waaaaaaaay too dark Sabrina!
  • Sabrina: sorry but what if I—
  • Chloé: no murderization, Sabrina
  • Sabrina: fine
  • Xavier: hey pigeons let's have a pigeon party
  • Roger: f**k off pigeons
  • Roger: and f**k off Xavier
  • Hawkmoth: kk so imma execute my best idea yet
  • Marinette: and so am I
  • Tikki: but your best idea is a hat made of a cake
  • Marinette: DON'T QUESTION MY ART TIKKI
  • Marinette: now imma ride a bus bc buses are fun
  • Bus driver: kk so there are pigeons EVERYWHERE so get out
  • Marinette: isn't that just the usual thing in Paris
  • Bus driver: yeah
  • Ladybug: this is the greatest danger I've ever faced
  • Chat Noir: can I eat them?
  • Ladybug: nah
  • Chat Noir: kk imma cosplay as Roger
  • Pigeons: hey Roger
  • Chat Noir: hey f**kers
  • Ladybug: (wow, this is really convincing!)
  • Pigeons: *take Chat Noir away*
  • Ladybug: this is not how birds work
  • Pigeons: *drop a cage on Ladybug and Chat Noir*
  • Chat Noir: whoa, role reversal!
  • Mr. Pigeon: HEY GUYS
  • Chat Noir: so what are you going to do
  • Mr. Pigeon: imma throw these pigeons at you
  • Chat Noir: what'll that do
  • Mr. Pigeon: *throws pigeons* merry christmas!
  • Ladybug: oh no he's gonna start dabbing
  • Ladybug and Chat Noir: *run away!*
  • Mr. Bourgeois: *is milling and billing*
  • Chat Noir: gimme a room and some camembert
  • Mr. Bourgeois: this is not out of the ordinary
  • Chat Noir: kk let's go
  • Mr. Pigeon: I have spies everywhere!
  • Hawkmoth: what are you hoping to accomplish here
  • Mr. Pigeon: imma bring you the Miraculouses!
  • Hawkmoth: yeah but you have your own personal agenda for what you're gonna use your powers for, right?
  • Mr. Pigeon: nah
  • Hawkmoth: you mean you're the first villain to actually focus on the task I set for you?
  • Mr. Pigeon: idk
  • Mr. Pigeon: ooh, my pigeon spies just reported that Ladybug is currently falling on top of me
  • Ladybug: geronimoooooooo!!!!!!!!
  • Mr. Pigeon: *gets squashed*
  • Hawkmoth: I'd be thrilled with your level of focus if it were paired with competence
  • Ladybug: imma beat you with POPCORN
  • Mr. Pigeon: the food or the song?
  • Ladybug: both, kick the tune Chat Noir
  • Chat Noir: time to bust out my sweet dancing Roger cosplay
  • Roger: that is not at all realistic
  • Mr. Pigeon: I surrender!
  • Hawkmoth: THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN
  • Marinette: anyway I made a hat
  • Chloé: and so did I
  • Gabriel: imma f**kin set you both on fire
  • Chloé: well s**t
  • ROLL CREDITS
2

quite a cute moment with the Kids celebrating with their Mothers (except Clyde whos Mother passed away due of the toilet incident, poor Clyde) 

Happy Mother’s Day :)

April 29, 2017

Honorary Chair Beyoncé at the first “Wearable Art Gala” held at the California African American Museum.

Created by Ms. Tina and Mr. Richard Lawson, proceeds from the gala and auction will benefit the couple’s WACO (Where Art Can Occur) Theater Center and the teens they are mentoring, Tina’s Angels and Richard’s Warriors.

Beyoncé is wearing Stello by Stephanie & Michael Costello, a dress she bought a few hours before the gala at their Hollywood store. According to Michael, she said she wanted to stop by and give him a hug.

📸: Beyonce.com