#she’s kinda my professor? she’s teaching a college class so ??

[alttheloco]

Fool’s Gold book cover!! :D

Read the fic by @tigers1o1 here! I very much recommend it, super good read.

[abbyshands]

Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)

teach me

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3

synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3

wc; 2.2k

p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.

your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.

that's where abby came in.

abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.

let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.

you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.

not only that, the focus.

how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?

you weren't.

but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.

it was a demand.

you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.

abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.

"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"

no.

"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.

but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.

"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.

“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.

“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.

“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.

abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.

“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.

“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.

“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.

“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.

“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.

“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”

“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.

but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.

“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?

wrong.

because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?

smack.

abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.

because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.

“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.

“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?

“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”

doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”

abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.

to some degree.

but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”

abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.

“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.

“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.

"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.

but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.

"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.

"too bad."

abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.

"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.

and she doesn't like your words.

abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.

once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"

you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."

"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.

this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.

"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.

"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.

"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.

and fill with butterflies.

“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.

“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.

"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?

it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.

even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”

“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.

"there’s my smart girl.”

and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.

your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.

"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.

and you hadn’t even finished yet.

"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.

"look on the good side.”

“you'll remember better now, won't you?"

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

[thebearer]

Omg Imagine meeting Lip at college and you are majoring in education, and you only know each other through math or something you need help with. You could just befriend him at first because he is a WHORE phase lol.

Idk your dribbles make me think that Lip and his wife have a strong friendship that blossomed to romance after Lip figures his shit out , and she got knocked up very early on lol.

📢ALSO LIP WILL BE SO MUCH WORSE THEN CARMY WHEN HE FINDS OUT YOU ARE PREGNANT BC KAREN TRAUMAAAAAAAAAAA 📢

"Hey," You stride next to Lip, looping the free strap of your backpack on. "What are you doin' tonight?"

"Uh, kinda busy." Lip hummed, brows creasing lightly when he looked over at you.

"With your professor?" You gave him a pointed look, a devious smile spreading across your lips when he scoffed.

"Yeah. You got plans with yours?" Lip countered.

You rolled your eyes. "Please. I'm not that desperate for a grade." You quipped. "Speaking of, I was going to ask if you were free tonight, because I am going to fail this math test on Wednesday."

"Yeah? And what do you need me for?" Lip grinned, pushing the door open for you. It was so casual, friendly- it made your heart flutter.

"Stop." You shook your head at him. "C'mon, I really need your help. I do your critical theory homework all the time to impress your sexy professor lady, so you owe me."

"Yeah, I guess. I'll, uh, I'll stop by after my last. I gotta check with Youens, make sure I got my shit done. Then I can come help you study." Lip nodded casually.

"Ugh, thank you." You sighed, bumping him playfully with your shoulder. "I swear, I'm not teaching math ever. I don't understand why I'm in the hardest math class for elementary ed."

"I mean, they probably want their teachers to be halfway smart." Lip shrugged. "Well, maybe not at the shit hole school I went to, but, uh, the good schools."

You snorted. "Yeah? Well, regardless, I'm not teaching math. I'll hold down the language arts, or the history, maybe the science if I have to. But math? Out of the question."

"Not even long division, huh?" Lip grinned.

"To be completely honest with you, I don't think I know how to do long division." You giggled. "I can barely do short division."

Many Years Later

"Lip!" You called, your voice carrying out to the garage, where your husband was "working on the car" (which really meant sneaking a cigarette).

"Yeah?" Lip hummed, walking into the house. Freddie sat at the kitchen table, a tiny frown on his features that mimicked yours perfectly. It made Lip's heart melt.

"Let Daddy see the problem, baby. He's better at math than me." You ran a hand over Freddie's curls sweetly, moving so Lip could take your spot.

Freddie had gotten Lip's freakish ability to do math. He was only six, but doing multiplication and long division already in his advanced groups.

"Lemme see, bud." Lip turned the paper towards him, scanning the problem. "Ah, ok, so you're not carrying the number here." Lip pointed to the problem, explaining it to your tiny son.

Your heart swelled, picking Jude up and hoisting him on your hip, trying to finish loading the dishwasher.

"Always thought your were jokin'." Lip hummed, gently squeezing your ass so you blushed, leaning to kiss the toddler on his head.

"About what?" You raised a brow.

"The long division thing." Lip laughed lightly. You gave him a confused look. "Y'know, when you said you wouldn't teach math and all that."

"Oh," You rolled your eyes playfully. "No, I wasn't. Why do you think I teach language arts now? Can't do all that numbers stuff like you."

Lip smirked, taking the dish from you and putting it in the rack. "How do you even remember that?" You cock your head to the side.

"What?"

"That I said that." You giggle. "That was, like, a million years ago."

"Because," Lip shrugged. "I was in love with you."

"No, you weren't." You blushed, dodging Jude's grabbing hands towards your hair. "You had your Mrs. Robinson."

Lip rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but, you were like my best friend." He said boyishly. Your heart melted. "Still are, but then, I just... I didn't want to fuck it up, ya know?"

"Watch it." You glared at him lightly, though it wasn't very convincing. "That's sweet. I was, like, very much so in love with you too, for the record."

"Yeah?" Lip grinned. You nodded, laughing when he kissed you sweetly over Jude's head. "Kinda had an idea."

"Really? What gave it away? The wedding or the kids?" You said sarcastically.

"No, it was the night that I had to pick you up from that dive bar downtown, and, uh, you were so drunk-"

"-Alright, Gallagher-"

"-And you kept telling me how much you loved me-"

You glared at him. "Jude, Daddy is being mean to me. Can you believe that?" You cooed, frowning exaggeratedly at your son. Jude just babbled, trying to grab at your hair again.

[athforskz]

Third Times the Charm - Lee Minho

Masterlist

type: strangers to lovers, college au, slow burn

pairing: tutor!Minho x afab!reader

wc: ~4.7k + 4 text ss

warnings: unbalanced power dynamic, themes of coercion, strong language, mention of failing academia, use of pet names, crying, dacryphilia, light touching, suggestive, reader is kinda tsundere, Minho is lowkey down bad for reader. MDNI.

a/n: there might be a part 2 for this one.

Enjoy lovelies!

“Alright, attempt number three. Here goes nothing,” you sighed heavily while taking your seat in the overcrowded lecture hall. This was your fourth semester in University and out of those four semesters, three of them were spent in your personal hell hole: organic chemistry. The first time you took this class, you had failed it, plain and simple. The second time you took it, your grade was passing, but barely. Definitely not enough to be accredited for the degree you wanted. Thus, you were back in the damned class once again to at least get a grade that wouldn’t tank your GPA. If you didn’t, then you could kiss that shiny degree goodbye.

The class was mainly filled by first or second semester students. They still looked young and ambitious. There were only a few students that were from your semester, and those that looked older were more than likely teaching assistants. While observing your peers, the professor waltzed in; the loud slam of her bag echoed throughout the lecture hall, effectively quieting the students.

“Okay everyone, time to settle down!” The professor’s voice was loud, authoritative even as she surveyed her new brood of students with sharp eyes. Yes, you’ve taken this class twice before, but never have you seen her teach it. Maybe she was new to the university? Most of the class was filled with going over housekeeping topics, such as the syllabus, laboratory requirements, and expectations for the upcoming semester. You tuned most of it out with having been through this same song and dance numerous times before for all classes. You huffed with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you doodled mindlessly in your notebook, maybe decorating it would motivate you to study more.

You looked at the time on your phone and saw that it was about 10 minutes before the end of the lecture. You started packing your notebook and pen away just as your professor exclaimed something that caught your attention, “And please don’t forget to use your teaching assistants to your advantage. They are here to help you! Seek them out when you have questions or need someone to study with. I’m sure the TA’s will have no issue in aiding you on your journey through this course. Matter of fact, they will come up to introduce themselves to everyone!”

The few teaching assistants or ‘TA’s’ as your professor dubbed them seemed to look a little frazzled, well all except for one. He didn’t look like he was paying attention at all. One by one each assistant introduced themselves to the class. A couple of them were nervous, rightfully so, it takes a lot of guts to speak in front of a mini auditorium full of students. “Good morning, all! My name is Yeji; I am a graduate student here at the University. Chemistry is my passion, and I will be more than happy to help anyone that needs it. Please, let’s all have a good semester and finish strong!” The woman seemed so happy. You made a mental note to approach the bubbly one that deemed herself, Yeji, so you could make a study group with her. She spoke about the subject with ease and had such a warm confident aura about her. Yeah, she’d definitely be the key you needed to ace the course this time.

The last guy to go was the one that looked less than thrilled to be here, he stalked up to the podium before letting out a loud sigh. “I’m Minho, please hesitat- er.. don’t hesitate to reach out with any problems you may have.” He smirked at the end of his very brief introduction, if you could even call it that.

Was that supposed to be funny?

Even with that horrible introduction you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. Eventually, the end of the class came, and you quickly picked up your bag before the rush of other dismissing students carelessly kicked your things aside. You made your way down to the front of the lecture hall to hopefully introduce yourself to Yeji. It’d be better to formulate a study schedule with her now rather than later. You tried to push through the crowd that didn’t seem to be moving only to find out that the remaining crowd was packed around the TA you needed to speak with. It seemed as if you weren’t the only one that was drawn to her vibrant personality. You had a bit before you needed to get to your next class, so you decided to wait for the crowd to filter out.

Another 15 minutes pass and you can finally get the attention of your desired TA. “Hey! Yeji, right?” She nodded with a bright smile, “my name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you! When do you think we could meet up for regular steady sessions? I’m free most days after 5pm.” You were being sweet and straight to the point, not wanting to waste time. Her face fell, “Oh, I’m so sorry. All of my sessions have filled up so quickly and I’m not able to offer one-on-ones with my schedule. Maybe one of the other assistants can help you.” She was still so polite, even when letting you down gently. You shook your head with a forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s okay! I’m sure I can find help with another. Thank you though.” Yeji offered a half bow before making her way out of the classroom. The other two teaching assistants were long gone by now and they probably didn’t have room nor time to individually help you either. “Fuck… now what am I gonna do?” You whined while smacking your forehead.

“I can help you.”

You whipped your head around to the mysterious voice coming from behind you. It was the last TA that introduced himself. You’d already forgotten his name, and that he was even an option for that matter. “No that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything,” you tried to convince him. He took a few steps closer, even the way he walked was nonchalant, then he looked at you up and down slowly with his eyes as if analyzing you. His gaze was making you feel hot, but you couldn’t let him know that his stare was causing something to stir within you. “Seriously, it’s not an inconvenience. To be honest, I probably have the most free time out of all the others.”

Gee, wonder why that is? Maybe because you don’t take things seriously.

“So..?” He further inquired, waiting for your final answer. You raised a brow as if actually debating. “How about we just exchange numbers, and you can reach out if you change your mind,” he pulled his phone out from his hoodie pocket then handed it to you. “Isn’t it more formal to exchange university emails?” You asked while taking the phone from his hand to enter your number. He shrugged with the ghost of a smile on his face, “possibly, but looks like you don’t mind.”

A snort left your nose after you sent a quick text to your phone so his number could be saved in the contact list. After returning his phone you waved him off without another word. Even if he was your type physically, you didn’t really see yourself ever messaging him for help. You only allowed the exchange to happen to avoid coming off as rude. Plus, you didn’t have any other excuse to blow off his gesture.

Another couple of days pass with nothing too eventful happening. The normal hullabaloo at the start of a new schedule not really affecting you anymore since it was the fourth go-round. However, today was the day the chem course had its laboratory portion. The labs weren’t as big as the lecture hall, the entire class was divided into three smaller groups. Along with doing experiments instead of taking notes, the professor was not in charge of the labs, the assistants were.

You had hoped Yeji would be the assistant for your particular lab. Upon strolling into the laboratory, your eyes were blessed with the sight of the vibrant woman. She waved at you with a smile before going to help another student. You watched her with bright eyes while lost in thought:

This will make things so much more bearable! Maybe I’ll even have the chance to ask her a few questions abou- Oh no… you can’t be serious.

Your lips turned down when you caught sight of his handsome features. The other TA that seemed to not take things seriously. He hadn’t seen you yet as he was busy drawing a rather odd face on the chalkboard. Once he finished his little doodle he labeled it ‘jerumi’ prior to nodding his head in satisfaction as if he were proud of his work.

You sighed with an eye roll before heading to your assigned workstation. You familiarize yourself with the equipment and introduce yourself to your lab partner. As you’re exchanging contact info for future project collaborations, you felt a presence looming over your shoulder. A yelp left your mouth, startled, as the man standing behind you looked down at the device in your hands. It was him, of course it was. You placed your phone down on the workbench to avoid your shaky hands from dropping it.

“Do you mind?” You took a step forward to put some distance between your bodies (even though you liked the brief closeness). “Just making sure you aren’t getting off topic. By the way, you haven’t asked me for help yet. We should probably talk about schedules, ya know?”

What in the world is he talking about?

The expression on your face let him know that you had no idea what he was referring to, “remember I’m supposed to be helping you study? I’ve been waiting on you to text me.” That’s right! You made it seem like you accepted his offer in him giving you study sessions. “Right, right! Totally forgot, so sorry about that. The start of a new semester just has me a little frazzled,” you recovered quickly and even punctuated the situation with a fake laugh. You were hoping by not reaching out he would get the hint and leave you be. Obviously, that wasn’t the case and now there’s no hope in just avoiding him since he’s one of the lab assistants. “How about we talk about this later? I’ll definitely remember to shoot ya a message,” you lied. You wouldn’t remember, or rather you flat out wouldn’t do it even if you did remember.

All he did was raise a brow. You chewed the inside of your cheeks, hoping he’d buy the suggestion. The man retrieved his own phone from a pants pocket and did something on the device. Soon your own cell vibrated where it was set. The ever inquisitive (and nosey) man peered at the lit screen, “you don’t even have my number saved.” You quickly snatched your phone and shoved it in your back pocket. “Uh I- I was just trying to think of a good way to save your contact!” you fibbed sheepishly. “Just save it as my name, simple.” He shrugged like his name was the best thing to ever grace a person’s ears which means you should remember, right?

“Riiiight…” you swallowed thickly, praying to whatever higher power that he didn’t ask if yo-

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

Fuck!

“Of course I remember!” You said a little louder than you intended, now classmates were looking your way, even Yeji peaked over to make sure everything was fine. Your hands covered your cheeks trying to cool yourself down from embarrassment. “Then what’s my name? Go on, say it.” He had a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eye. 

Was he teasing? And why does he look so damn good like that?

You kept your mouth shut and avoided his gaze. Moments of silence passed before you heard him scoff, “Figures you don’t remember. It’s Minho. But my friends call me Lee Know if that’s easier for you.” He spoke so fast that you didn’t quite catch what he said. “Lionel?” You repeated.

“No, Lee Know,” he said slower this time. If you weren’t still reeling from the prior embarrassment, you’d think this ‘Lee Know’ is making fun of you. You simply nodded your head to acknowledge you got his name memorized… you think.

Thoroughly satisfied with having checked on you, he went to the next pair of students to annoy help them. You breathed a sigh of relief that he finally left, and you carried on with your lab partner for the remainder of the period.

About a month has passed and the semester is in full swing. Everything had been going great in all classes, even chemistry. You hadn’t needed much help as it was just the basics and because you flat out refused to ask Lee Know for help anyway. You’ve even successfully avoided all of his attempts so far to talk to you after class or in lab. Part of it was because he was actually helping other students (when he wasn’t acting standoffish, nonchalant, or sarcastic). The other part had just been pure luck, or bad luck since you couldn’t stare at his cute face.

However, you didn’t catch how he was aware of your avoidance. Minho could tell in your body language that you rather not associate with him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Why were you so stubborn in accepting his help? Had he done or said something wrong? Couldn’t be that; he’s barely had a real conversation with you. Or maybe you picked up on how he looks at you or how his eyes go soft once he hears your voice. Minho’s heart rate would even increase whenever he got near you, albeit he hasn’t come close to you often, but that’s not the point. He was utterly infatuated at first sight and had to get close to you in some way and those study sessions were his best bet.

You had just made it back to your dorm when a ding echoed from your pocket. The already slumping bag fell off your shoulder and you kicked your shoes off without a care. Thankfully, you didn’t need to worry about being super organized because you got a dorm all to yourself this year. Your hand reached in to pull out your phone to see who had messaged you. Probably just a friend asking if you wanted to grab food later, but no, it wasn’t a friend. It was Minho.

A sigh fell from your lips as you read yet another message from the man. Damn was he persistent. He would occasionally send a message to see if you needed help, but you would always ignore it. You had never messaged him except for the one simple ‘hi’ when exchanging numbers.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for him to catch a hint?

Maybe, just maybe if you respond to him this time and say you don’t need a tutor then he’ll leave you be. The more direct approach oughtta do it.

Well, that’s definitely not what you were expecting. Now you had a so called ‘study date’ with him Friday evening. 

Was he being flirty or just overly friendly?

You could think of a million other things to do rather than spend your Friday night studying the subject that’s the bane of your existence with your way too persistent TA. Then again, maybe being locked in a room with him wasn’t a bad idea.

The end of the week came faster than expected, which was both a blessing and a curse. Yes, you were ready to be free from school for the weekend, but before that you had to make it through this study session with Minho.

It shouldn’t take long. I’ll just go in there and show him I know what I’m doing, then boom! Home free. What could possibly go wrong?

You made your way to the underground study rooms that were agreed upon as the meetup point. There was only one room marked as reserved, the rest of them open on account of it being Friday and other students having more fun things to do with the weekend at hand. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door. There sat Minho, his soft hair pushed back out of his face as he organized a few things on the wide tabletop. His focus making him effortlessly attractive. You looked up at the whiteboard on the wall to see a slew of organic chemistry reactions that seemed unfinished. Is this what he wanted you to do today?

Minho looked up from his spot and greeted you with a toothy grin, “Y/n, you actually came!”

Why was he so happy? Did he take his position as teaching assistant seriously for once? He’s so much cuter when he smiles.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it for the world..” you trailed off with sarcasm in your tone. You sat opposite him at the table, slinging your backpack onto the ground and taking out your notes. Minho got up from his seat and made his way around to you. You didn’t pay attention to him at first as you were focused on finding a certain section in your notes. Right as you found the page you needed, Minho slammed his hand on the notebook and closed it. “Hey! Why’d you do that?!”

“You said you already knew everything that would be on the exam. So, you shouldn’t need this right?” He waved the journal just above your reach then tossed it to the other side of the table. “Show me what you can do. Finish and balance the reactions on the board,” he nodded towards the dry erase board at the front of the room with a smug look. Great, now his teasing is carrying over from those messages the other night. On top of that, his devious looks aren’t helping to quell the erratic thump in your chest. You stood to your feet while shooting him a glare and stomped over to the board then picked up a purple marker. The marker thumped against your palm as you were looking at the problem on the board trying to figure out the answer.

After a few minutes of thinking you hastily scribbled out your answer. Once finished you turned around with a confident ‘hmph’ as if to challenge him to tell you that you were- “Wrong,” he blurted out while standing from his spot at the edge of the table. Your jaw dropped. “No its not! That’s one of the easiest reactions to do in chemistry. There’s no way I got it wrong.” You protested as he walked over and plucked the marker right from your fingers. You continued to berate him as he ‘corrected’ your answer.

“You’re right ab-“ he started.

“Yeah, I know I’m right and you just messed it up!” You interrupted but he let you finish before he pushed his face dangerously close to yours. You’d have backed up if the table wasn’t already pressed into your lower back.

Minho’s voice was low when he spoke, “As I was saying, you’re right about it being an easy reaction to solve, but you still balanced it wrong. We’ve got some work to do if you can’t even figure this one out y/nnie.” He gently patted your cheek then made his way back to flip through your notebook. To say your head was spinning was an understatement. You weren’t even sure what emotions you were feeling right now. Anger? Embarrassment? Confusion? And maybe turned on?

No, there’s no way he just spoke to me like that! He’s acting all condescending. And what was that tone for anyway? Plus the nickname?? He’s just trying to rile me up..

You shook your head of any other thoughts and emotions before he caught a glimpse of your flustered state. You were now hellbent on proving this man wrong, that you did in fact know how to do easy reaction equations.

“Do you always space out with a scowl on your face?” You hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you when he asked the question. “Only when the mood calls for it,” you answered plainly.

“The mood?” Now his brow was raised. “Yeah, like when someone tells me I’m wrong when I’m not.”

He sighed with a shake of his head, “You aren’t going to learn anything if you’re just going to back talk me the entire time.”

“Well I wouldn’t back talk if you’d explain your reasoning on why my answer was incorrect. Oh, that’s right, you can’t because my answer wasn’t wrong in the first place!” Now you were the one being condescending.

Minho’s eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe if you would shut up and listen, I can tell you what’s wrong so you can actually pass the class for once.”

Ouch, that struck a nerve.

Your demeanor instantly weakened as he stood there and read you to filth. Minho could tell he went too far, and his eyes softened as your gaze averted to a blank corner of the room. “Look I’m really just trying to help you,” he pleaded.

“Then help me, Lee Know.” You sniffled with the faintest of watery eyes. Were you crying? Goodness, Minho sure hopes so. He has a thing when someone cries for him. Minho thinks you look so pretty on the verge of tears, it made him wonder what else you’d look pretty edging, but he shouldn’t focus on that right now. You wiped your eyes with the edge of your sleeve before a tear could fall. Trying to muster up the strength to continue on with this hell of a study session.

After emotions had calmed down, he came closer and showed you how to do the basics correctly. Minho explained that you had been taking notes improperly which made simple things more complicated. Your eyes widened at the realization of how much easier everything became after that.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Minho’s study session actually helped you. You passed the exam the next week with flying colors. Now that you and he know you’re benefiting from the one on one time, Minho had suggested another session after the next lecture as the topics covered would be more difficult. You wanted to make sure you got things right the first time, so you agreed to meet with him again. Plus spending more time with an attractive guy that is secretly your type was a bonus.

Minho managed to book a different study room this time off-campus. You had heard of the place in passing from a friend but never thought to check it out. When you got there it was more of a lounge type of vibe but you appreciated the change of scenery. Staying on university grounds all the time could make you a bit stir crazy. You made your way towards the back of the building to see your personal tutor already hard at work in one of the study rooms. Your fist made light contact with the doorframe to let him know you arrived. 

“Ah, y/nnie come in. Close the door.” He got up to greet you with a hug. 

Touching? That's new.

You were caught off guard by his warm gesture but gave him a hug back, your body heating in the process. It was the least you could do since he’s helped so much. You decided to not put much thought into it as you got down to brass tacks. You sat on the couch in front of a coffee table since the desk in the room would be too small for collaboration.

Minho would walk you through each new topic to make sure you had a good understanding of it. All the while he sat dangerously close to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours. Each time you made a mistake on a structure he’d take your hand and guide you on how to draw it the correct way. At first you really hadn’t noticed, but what tipped you off is when you caught him staring at you instead of the work. Then you started taking note of his lingering touches on your hand or his breath ticking your shoulder. All of this touching was making your body buzz.

Now, Minho was touching your back feening it as just an encouraging gesture but his hand position was low and his fingers danced along your spine. You never told him to stop because you weren’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was making you breathe heavier and lose focus.

Damn, he smells so good.. and that sultry voice he’s using is gonna make me melt.

 A hiss from the man brought you out of your fuzzy thoughts and snap your head towards him instead of the paper in front of you. “Watch where you put that hydrogen molecule, kitty. Can’t have you making dumb mistakes.” 

Did he just say kitty?

“Hey, I’m not dumb!” You retorted but there was no bite in your tone. You ignored the nickname, thinking it was just a slip of the tongue. He chuckled at your furrowed expression, “that’s not what I meant.” 

Minho’s hand came to squeeze your knee then proceeded to rub along your thigh. 

Seriously, when did this man get so touchy? 

The remainder of the study session went on without any major mess ups from you. The only time you did make a mistake was when Minho got bold with his touching. You never told him you didn’t like it though, his hands were warm and who were you to tell him no if it didn’t hurt anything. 

Eventually studying with Minho became a twice weekly regular thing and so did his touching. He remained respectful with the placement of his hands… until today. 

You were sat in your dorm room with Minho as all the study rooms were taken on campus and the place off campus was booked too. Guess everyone needed to lock in with midterm exams around the corner. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get this oxidation method down. It’s so complicated for no reason,” you groaned while throwing your head back. “You just need to remember the steps, y/n. It isn’t too bad.” He laughed at your dramatics. 

“And how in the world am I going to remember it so easily?” 

“Easy. Muscle memory.” He said with almost no inflection. You turned to look at him as if he had three heads. “Lee Know, what the hell are you talking about? In case you forgot this isn’t your dance class we’re studying here. I can’t just pop and lock an oxidation reaction into my body.” 

“Sure you can, but it won’t exactly involve dancing.” Now he looked as smug as the Cheshire cat. You were still beyond confused and motioned for him to elaborate, “Ya know I can get you to remember anything by just making you feel good.” Minho’s voice lowered as he leveled himself to your face. “All you have to do is let me touch you. Whaddya say, kitten?” 

When did he get so close? 

He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. Your brain was fuzzy and still swimming with questions, but your body was already having such a reaction to him. You shouldn’t say yes, but saying no isn’t an option either. You needed to do well in this class, you simply didn’t have any other choice. 

Without further thought you nodded your head in agreement, “Yes..” Your voice came out shakier, more breathy than intended. 

“Yes what? Say it.” He demanded with a stern tone, his hand coming up to hover over your cheek, not yet touching it until he gets an answer.

“You can touch me.” You whispered while leaning into his palm. Your response caused Minho to lean his head back with his eyes shut, a satisfied groan leaving his throat. “Good, now let’s get to work. You’ve got a lot of memorizing to do and I intend on burning it into every inch of your skin.” He placed his hands on your thighs giving them a hard squeeze while spreading them apart. Your skin already felt like it was on fire, but little did you know this was just the beginning.

You had no idea what kind of power you’ve just given to this man but he was definitely intent on showing you. 

Surely it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Special thanks to my honey @doitforbangchan for being my beta reader <3

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

[lexisecretaccx]

A+ Student pt.3

Other parts on my Masterlist!

(Fem reader, kinda drama at the start, slight angst, smut☺️, suggestive, not revealing who the smut is with xoxo, not proofread!)

Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..

The next day..

I couldn’t sleep well, I was stressing out about Matt and Chris and everything going on. I walk into the English lecture 5 minutes late, I didn’t mean to I was just lacking on time. Matt is at the front of the class, not teaching even thought the lecture started already.

“Now we can start.” Matt spoke as I walked up to my seat. I noticed Kelly sat at the front of the class watching Matt the same way I used to when I first met him.. with utter devotion.

I can’t help but feel a sense of jealousy fill me even though he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her. That is until she raises her hand to answer a question that I also raised my hand to answer. “Kelly?” He spoke.. he let her answer it instead of me. I mean that’s okay I shouldn’t answer all the questions.

“Is it option 2?” She asks him, smiling cheesily. He breathes through his teeth, “that’s the wrong question but,” he leans on her desk. “We can work on getting you up to pace.” He smiles before patting her shoulder and walking past her slightly. He patted her shoulder. He does that to me, that’s our thing! Why am I feeling like this?

“Y/n?” He asks me, bringing my attention from her to him. “Hm?” I hum sadly. “Do you know the answer?” I sigh before shrugging. “You had your hand raised.” He spoke again, “yeah but I wasn’t gonna answer the question, it’s fine now.” I look back down to my notes. “Okay..” he says hesitantly before telling us all the correct answer.

“Is this right?” Kelly giggles, he leans down to her notes before nodding, “yeah good girl.” He smiles and looks straight at me. I don’t know why I feel so jealous but he calls me that. Why is he treating her how he treated me? It isn’t fair I thought he liked me. Why-

My thoughts are cut off by the door opening and Thomas walking in, “you’re late.” Matt instantly spoke, “sorry..” he mumbled. He came and sat next to me, smiling briefly before looking at me fully. “Are you ok?” He whispered, I sighed sadly, “yep.” I lied.

“Sorry you have to help me in the lessons.” He looked down, “it’s okay don’t apologise, it’s a distraction at least.” I smiled at him and he smiled softly. We continue the lessons and I help him out and we chat and he’s a sweet kid. I keep glancing at Matt, who I find watching me and Thomas. I was scribbling on a random piece of paper, doing doodles and stuff and Thomas noticed.

He drew a little reindeer on the corner of my page, causing me to chuckle gently. “That’s a good deer.” I smile. “Thank you.” He smiles back. “Stop talking.” Matt made me jump as he stood right next to me. “Sorry.” Thomas muttered.

Matt hands me a note, it read. Stay after class, we need to talk about yesterday - professor Sturniolo I shook my head. “What?” He whispered, “I don’t want to do that.” He scoffs, “it wasn’t a question.” He walks to Kelly and starts talking to her.

“Hey I gotta leave right now but here’s one of my notes that’ll help you okay?” I say quietly to Thomas, who smiles at me and nods. “No worries.” I pack my stuff away and get up. I walk past Matt and Kelly who were laughing and giggling and I go to walk out, “where are you going?” Matt spoke. “Bathroom.” I lied before walking out fully and making my way down to the hallway.

I look at the sign on the wall GYM I walk in, luckily nobody is in there. I see Chris near the storage cupboard door, “Chris.” I say and he turns around quickly. “Oh hey! Shouldn’t you be in Matts class right now?” He tilts his head. “Yeah but he was flirting with some new girl, purposely to upset me.” I sigh.

He scoffs, “he’s a dick y/n, you should know that.” He laughs. I laugh softly, “what’re you doing?” I look at the basketballs and dodgeballs on the floor. “Putting these away in here,” he motions to the cupboard, “wanna help?” He smirks. I nod before placing my bag on the bench next to his laptop. I pick up a basketball and take it into the cupboard that was larger than I thought.

“Where do I put them?” Chris kicks all of them into the cupboard with me and walks in, closing the door behind him. “There.” He points at a bag full of dodgeballs and one full of basketballs.

He turns the lock and I look to him, “uh.. am I being kidnapped or what’s the plan here?” I chuckle. He joins in before walking up to me, “one more to put away.” He leans into me, handing me a dodgeball. I nod quickly. I put it in the bag and turn around back to him. “Can I leave now or..” I smile, he walks up infront of me, I lean my back against the wall.

“You know how I like to take risks?” He whispers in my ear, I nod. “Can this be one of them?” He breaths out against the skin on my neck, “yeah..” I feel myself get hot at this sudden experience. He plants kisses against my neck, “you know the good thing is..” he spoke against my skin. “There’s no cameras in here or in the gym..” his hand travels down to my skirt.

“You wear this for Matt?” He grins against my skin. I shake my head, part lying. “Maybe skip gym class today, this’ll be all the exercise you need hm..” he kisses a sweet spot under my ear causing me to fold. “Okay..” I whisper in a trance.

“Do you want all of me or do you just want me to make you feel good, I don’t mind either.” His hand rests at my skirt “i want all of you.. please.” I nod before he pulls my skirt off, leaving me in my white undies. “Fuck..” he mutters. He removes his own sweatpants, leaving him in his black boxers, a slight visible imprint of his cock.

I swallow harshly as his hand strokes my clothed cunt slightly, making me moan softly. “Fuck.” He whispers, wasting no time to remove my panties and pulling his boxers off revealing his large dick, a vein prominent down the side. My eyes widen at the sight, “you’re big..” i say smirking slightly, “Don’t stroke my ego y/n.” He smirks back at me.

His hands find place on the back of thighs as he connects our lips in a kiss. I feel more of a passion in this kiss with him, my hand tangles in his hair and the other one rests around the back of his neck. One of his hands slip between my thighs as he places pressure on my clit and starts to rub circles on it.

I moan into the kiss and my grip in his hair tightens and we deepen the kiss. He removes his hand causing me to whine slightly from the loss of pressure, he grips my thighs and lifts me up, breaking the kiss to look down. “You ready?” He says lining himself up with my entrance holding me up as my back is leant against the wall.

“Yes.. please.” I lean my head into his shoulder. He lowers me down onto his member and I let out a loud moan, muffled by his shoulder. I hear a groan grumbling in his throat as I sink down fully until nothing more fits. He starts to lift me up and down on him and i bite my lip to hide my moans, my arm wraps around his shoulder as the other one is placed on his bicep. He pulls my back off the wall so I’m only supported by his arms holding me up.

He’s more muscular than Matt, and he’s nicer. But why do I still feel guilty? I don’t have a reason.. I am taken out of my thoughts by Chris’ tip hitting my g spot. I moan loudly and dip my head into his shoulder even further, gripping his bicep so hard I swear I left marks. To stop myself from moaning so loudly I bury my head into his neck and place kisses, sucking slightly.

He moans out deeply, continuing to bounce me on his cock. “Fuck I’m close y/n..” he groans out, his tip repeatedly kissing my g spot as his movements become sloppier. “I’m gonna cum..” I whimper slightly. The knot in my stomach tightens and snaps as I release all over the base of his dick. “Should.. I pull out?” He whines.

I forgot he didn’t put a condom on, it all happened so fast but luckily I’m on the pill for situations like this. “I’m on the pill..” I breathe out, my body feeling weak and limp, he has slowed his movements as to not overstimulate me. “Fuck..” he groans, his head falling on my shoulder as I feel him shoot his cum inside of me.

I wish this moment could’ve lasted forever but sadly it can’t. “Shit that was.. your perfect.. fuck.” Chris groans as he lifts me off of him slowly, as my feet hit the ground my leg goes limp and I stumble. He laughs slightly, placing his underwear and sweatpants back on and helping me with mine.

“We should do this again.” I suggest, smirking at him as I try to adjust my clothes. “Yeah def-” the bell rings. Both of our eyes widen, this is signalling that it is the break period. We need to get out of the closet before anyone comes into the gym.

He unlocks the door and I walk out quickly, rushing to my bag to brush out my slightly messed up hair. “See you next period.” Chris walks out the closet after me smirking, my mouth drops slightly. His face drops too, “what?” He speaks anxiously, I hadn’t realised my ‘light’ kissing and sucking on his neck was much more.. harder.

There’s 3 hickeys on the side of his neck. “When I kissed your neck.. I accidentally gave you hickeys.” I whisper and his eyes widen before relaxing. “Ah it’s fine, no one will know who gave them to me.” He smirks and I nod, “okay.. can I stay here for break? I don’t feel like walking much right now.” I sigh and he chuckles cockily.

“Fuck you.” I roll my eyes and laugh.

“You already did.”

A/n: hehehehehhe fucking love writing smut. Sorry I can only write this every weekend I’m just super busy during the week bc of exams and shit like that! Love yall tho! Hope u enjoyed this part I think it’s pretty long lol😭😂 am I making u all mad at Matt yet?🤭

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerssturns @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803

[f10werfae]

Child-Bearing Hip Dips

pairing: Professor!Ari Levinson x College!Student!Reader

summary: Ari overhears his babygirl’s conversation with her friends, he teaches her another lesson, why he loves her love handles. (DILF!Ari) (Dom!Ari)

likes, Comments and reblogs are appreciated/18+

Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“fuck, ya know these hips were made for me don’t ya?” Ari growled slamming his cock into her wet fuck hole, his shirt unbuttoned as she pawed at his meaty chest and stomach, his lips coming down to pull and tug at her puffy nipples. “Y-Yes sir, o-Oh shit” Y/n moaned feeling him spit onto her face, his hands kneading at her hips, even spanking it lewdly. Her college professor, loved watching her body jiggle and move.

- 30 minutes ago -

“So Y/n, your truth is, if you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?” Grace smiled picking a truth out of the hat, seeing that hardly anyone had attended the sociology lecture today due to weather problems, the girls made due and played some Truth or Dare; their seemingly distracted professor marking papers at his desk. His circular glasses perched on his nose, his eyes making subtle contact with Y/n, sending her a wink every few seconds.

She fidgeted and squirmed in her seat, having no underwear to put on this morning while at her boyfriend’s house, the greedy git had stolen it after he had fucked the daylights out of her. That same pair of lilac underwear, peeking out of his trouser pocket everytime he stood up to grab more papers to mark. He was practically teasing her at this point, even playing with the promise ring on his finger, reminding her of how those same thick fingers were tugging, pulling and feeling every bit of her the night before; in fact every night for the past 4 months since she took up this class.

“Oi Y/n, stop oglin’ Mr. Levinson n’ answer the question already” Lara whispered nudging her friend, repeating the question to her so they could move on with the game already, “Right oh uh, if I could change one thing about myself… maybe my hip dips? I don’t know anything I wear leggings they make my body look square and it puts me off. Plus! I don’t know, i’ve had people tell me before that it makes my proportions weird” Y/n explained scowling, gripping at the skin on her hips, her friends nodding as they could relate to the exact same thing.

“Ok next one-“ Before the next truth could be asked, the bell rang signifying the end of the day, all four college girls sighing out in relief at the thought of it finally being over. Lectures were to be put on hold after today, with the weather threatening to worsen, giving them all a weeks holiday to do whatever they pleased. Or whoever.

“Do all you ladies have a safe way home? Would you like me to call a few cabs?” Mr. Levinson offered seeing them all start to file out of the room, all of them stating that their significant other’s were picking them up, “What about you Miss L/n?” Ari asked tilting his head, seeing as now they were the only two left in his lecture hall, his fingers fiddling with the lilac fabric in his pocket.

“Hmm my man said he would pick me up, I don’t know if he’s here yet though” She pouted playfully walking around his desk, grabbing onto his sleeves as she pulled herself to smack a glossy wet smooch onto his lips, one that was gladly reciprocated. “is that so? What kinda man is that, leavin his woman stranded and cold” He cooed letting his hands fondle up her skirt, ripping a hole into her stockings, cheekily groping at her backside.

Both of them chuckling as he sat back down onto his chair, bringing her onto his lap, his hands going under the creme knit jumper of his that she chose to put on this morning; feeling her bare breasts as he also hid her bra from her. He hated seeing those wired marks on her back, he could care less if her tits sagged, they were only his to look at anyway. “Can we go to your place already? It’s cold and I still need to finish the damn paper my sociology teacher set me”

“Oh yeah good job tellin your sociology professor that” He grumbled bunching up his sweater just above her chest, exposing her globes to the cool air, the same ones he would spend any amount of time sucking and kissing on. “Anyway what’s this I heard about hip dips? Who told you that?” His fingers massaging deep into her hips, the same hips he loved seeing swaying round his kitchen as she listened to her music, the same hips that rode his cock to the moon and back, the same hips that belong to the most gorgeous girl he swears he’s ever seen. His Y/n’s hips.

“Well am not lyin! I’ve heard so many people tell me to lose ‘em, i’ve tried all the tips but these girls won’t budge. They just make me look bulky” She groaned running her hand back through his hair, his eyes darkening as her body was basically exposed to him. “Baby, these are my love handles, I love holdin’ onto them everytime your sweet pussy is wrapped around my cock, the way the muscles tense and relax with every movement. I don’t give a fuck about proportions either babygirl, at the end of the day it’s all mine to eat and grab at” He growled setting her onto his emptied desk, her fingers automatically undoing his belt and buttons, his trousers being tugged sown to his thick thighs.

“Open up baby, seems I need to remind my girl some of the things i’ve taught her” He gritted his teeth, feeling his cock being engulfed by her warm gummy walls, a familiar feeling for them both, comforting even. “F-fuck daddy, still so big” She whimpered, already feeling like she had been split into two, her older boyfriends cock was no joke.

-Present-

“fuck, ya know these hips were made for me don’t ya?” Ari growled slamming his cock into her wet fuck hole, his shirt unbuttoned as she pawed at his meaty chest and stomach, his lips coming down to pull and tug at her puffy nipples. “Y-Yes sir, o-Oh shit” Y/n moaned feeling him spit onto her face, his hands kneading at her hips, even spanking it lewdly. “What did I read people callin’ these once? Child bearin hips” He whispered licking up between her tits, her hands clawing onto his ass, pushing his hips farther into her; her tongue reaching out for his as her drool covered face mashed up against his in a sealing kiss.

Ari groaning at the feeling of his woman’s cunt clenching around his length, her hips wrapping her legs around his waist, caging him against her body as he continued thrusting in and out of her mercilessly. “Ya like that baby? The thought of your professor knockin you up? Watchin’ you walk around campus all full of my baby? Only we would know our dirty secret” He taunted whispering right against her lips, a string of saliva connecting them as she cried out and had to bite her lip to keep the rest in.

“Yes- Yes I want it all! Fuck just give it to me daddy, need it so bad, warm me up with your cum” She squealed feeling his hand leave her hips to start circling at her precious delicate button, rubbing it raw as he helped her chase her orgasm, his catching up with it. “Whatever my baby wants, she gets” He sighed out, and Y/n swore she saw stars, her toes twinkling closed, his shaft hitting her G-spot repeatedly. Their torsos flattened against each other, her hips slowly gyrating, his seed filling her to the brim, creating a cream like effect to the base of his cock where they connected.

“So what did you think about these hip dips again?” He breathed out resting his forehead against hers, fully taking off her sweater so they could feel each other’s warmth, skin to skin. “You mean my love handles babe” She giggled beaming up at him, despite her face being riddled with sweat and saliva, but Ari was sure he looked the exact same. From then on he swore he would fuck the insecurities out of her, even if it was the last thing he’d do.

“That’s my girl, now come on, let’s go home so I can help you with this ‘stupid sociology essay’ so we can spend the week doing somethin more productive” He joked cleaning her up a bit, even fixing her hair that was now all over the place, “Or something more reproductive” She giggled kicking her legs, already feeling him growing hard against her thigh, she’s got him again.

———

PSA: Big beefy Ari is back again🫶🫶🫶🙏

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist ( not accepting, use library)

@pandaxnienke @patzammit @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @cevansgurl @meetmeatyourworst @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @aerangi @roofwitty779 @ravenhood2792 @feltonswifesworld87 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @mdpplgtz03 @angelmather1 @bval-1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @daddymack01 @acornacre @thebaileybugle @seungcheol17daddy

See you all at the next update🫶

[crisalidaseason]

I love Professor Emetterio so much and I'll share all the interactions with him that I absolutely love:

Man admits making a mistake - a professor admiting making a mistake????

Also, considering that Emetterio can't humanly memorize every cadet's abilities on the mat he must have a mental list of "skilled and dangerous cadets" and it seems our girl Violet is on the list bc his words kinda sound like a concealed compliment.

Respectful. Even if he just wanted to check on her health after the assassination attempt, the guy has common sense to ask for permission.

I smiled at this. I could picture him dropping the clipboard like "Omg, my favorite student almost died :O". Also, I am sure he was a bit distressed because Violet was bloodied, with a concussion and yet refused to seek medical help.

I headcannon he knows she was poisoning her opponents and after witnessing the challenge with Jack Barlowe, Emetterio was like "the girl is a fucking menace, I like her"

I can picture Emetterio trying not to sigh in annoyance because It's the second time a wingleader challenges Violet, disturbing the careful class of challenges he had planned. It's like when a student interrupts class to tell a story nobody asked for and won't shut the fuck up.

Both of his favorite students are Violet and Xaden and my heart can't take it!!!!!! I headcannon he could identify the power couple before anyone else did :) Teachers do that all the time, we even bet on which students are dating or will date, because our lives are miserable but we do love a gossip

Him asking for Violet when she disappeared while being tortued by Varrish :( He could just ignore and not care, her disappearance does not cause him problems but he - and Devera - asked for her. No other professors did and it makes sense why Devera and Emetterio end up joining the revolution, those two have a level of human care for their students in a college that treats them subhumanly.

Tired teacher trying -and not being sucessful - to stop his student from doing something reckless.

Not an interaction but stil! I know that Xaden probably meant Emetterio is teaching all the cadets, BUT I personally like to think he is giving Violet more attention on this aspect considering she is most likely to be pulled into service earlier than any cadet would - considering her signet and also the mating bond.

[fromgoy2joy]

Here is the scene -

Shabbat dinner at a rabbi’s house with all the college kids from different schools in the area immersed in discussion. Spaghetti lines up high on each plate with a minimal serving of droopy artichoke. The rabbi made an announcement at the beginning of the meal that calories don’t work on Shabbat and we’re eating for two souls :

A girl I hadn’t met before- Dawn- was discussing the lawsuit set against her school for antisemitism. This is very common nowadays so I was nodding along, twirling noodle around my fork.

My friend , who we will call Duck, shook his head. “I’m lucky.” He stabbed a piece of artichoke. “My school is administratively failing, so that’s the focus. Not the world falling to crap.”

I nod along, eying the challah on the other side of the table.

“Joy, have you experienced anything?” Dawn asked, politely. I know she would’ve loved me to say “oh nothing! We’re actually beloved there!” But that wasn’t the case.

“Oh- uh! “ I jolted up. “No more than the usual.”

“Well,” Dawn peered at me. “What’s your ‘usual’?”

“Ah,” I took the moment to think. “Oh. Well. I started my conversion journey in October and all my freshman first semester friends cut me off because that made me complicit in genocide.”

Both of their eyes widened at me. “Oh G-d,” Dawn put down her fork. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry about it! You live, you learn.” I waved my hand. “Let’s see. Oh, oof, there was the time a Jewish kid got beat up and nearly thrown into traffic at a protest -“

“Really!?”

“Oh yeah,” I twirled spaghetti. “Our antisemitism teach in was canceled because we are “genocide colonizers” and it got dangerous to host. A professor made an entire class defend Hamas for a final paper,”

“No fucking way.” Duck breathed.

I shrugged. “Apparently, it was an 1800s philosophy class.” My two friends squawked before I continued. “We’ve got the cliche of ‘resistance is justified’ but I don’t think that’s anything unique-“

“You understand that’s still bad, right?” Dawn interrupted. I felt caught off guard, and answered slowly.

“Yeah of course. It’s just kinda lame. Lack of originality. There’s a bit more. Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “The Nazi thing!”

Dawn and Duck are both staring at me, in a daze. I felt like a commercial, head buzzing with so many examples that I wanted to say “but wait , there’s more!”

But instead of a free water bottle to go with whatever infomercial contraption there is, instead it was a long list of ways my life is passively and actively in danger.”

“I’m so sorry, Joy.” Duck began. Dawn nodded slightly. “I had no idea it was this bad. I was at a conference recently, and a lot of the talk was how bad your university has gotten. You guys might actually be the worst in the state.”

There are things I know logically. Like that I should eat more than 1.65 meals a day, that what I’ve been experiencing isn’t normal.

But it was Shabbat, my heart was as light as it could be, and I was here in my beloved community. I twisted my face into a grim smile. “Huh. Celebrity moment! Now, could you pass the challah?”

(I got like five extra pieces, so, you know! Perks to Jew hate!

Jokes, jokes.)

[billshxsband]

can you do 2011 tom and hes your college professor and the reader hates him, she walks into class with a short skirt and he doesnt allow the skirt in class so he takes the reader to detention and hes there and you are the only two there

(have a blessed day :D)

OFC SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY I WAS HAVING A BAD DAY YESTERDAY 😭🙏

Im assuming its smut so im sorry if its not 😔❤️

(P in v, hair pulling, a bit of degrading!!)

————————————————————————

Another day with this annoying teacher, i will admit he may be cute but i do not like him. Every girl is obsessed with him i don’t understand what they see in him..

I decided to wear something kinda showing today, just to piss him off i guess, didnt go as i expected it to..

“Y/n.. that skirt is way too short.” He pointed me out again. “You’ll survive. Whyre you looking anyway?” He immediately looked away, a bit flustered.

“Whatever, i need you to stay after class we have to talk about your grades.” Theres nothing wrong with my grades.. i get As and Bs, Ds at worst but nothing under!?

Eventually class ended and we walked over to my desk, everyone had already left. “Why would you wear that, do you know how distracting that can be for some people?” He asked. “So what? If they fail they fail. They can keep their eyes to themselves and their own work!”

“Wanna keep giving me attitude? I will say it wont end well. I suggest  you stop, now.” Was he trying to scare me? If so it was not working at all. I ignored his warning and rolled my eyes, then he grabbed my face making me look at him. Ok.. was not expecting that ill admit..

“Did i not just tell you to stop? Do i have to punish you?”

“I dont know, do you?” I gave him a small smirk, he sat down in a chair and pulled me onto his lap. “Do i?” He made me look down at him.

It was kinda hot not gonna lie.. he grabbed my hand and placed it onto his crotch. Fuck i didnt know he meant this.. im not complaining tho..

“Wait mr kaul-“ he immediately interrupted me with a kiss, which then turned into a makeout..

Eventually he bent me over the desk. “G’na fuck you dumb.. cant listen then ill teach you.” He pushed my skirt up, moving my panties to the side and unzipping his pants.

“You on the pill?”

“Yes..”

“Perfect.”

He took off his boxers and without a warning rammed his dick into my cunt. “Shit! No warning!?” “I warned you didnt i? I told you it wouldnt be good, now shut the fuck up before someone hears us.”

He started pounding into me, not gentle at all. He grabbed my hips, slightly digging his nails into them. “Fuck.. so tight..” he grabbed my hair, pulling it slightly so he could see my face, i was a moaning mess.

He slapped my ass roughly. “I told you to shut up didnt i!?” “I-i can-t.. t’much.. ugh mmhhh!..”

“You’ll survive.. im almost there.. shit.. g’na cum in this tight little pussy..”

He started rubbing my clit fastly, my legs starting to shake as i came on his cock. He kept thrusting, overstimulating me. “P-please i cant! It hur-rts..!”

He slammed in one more time, coating my insides with his cum. He then pulled out, shoving the cum back in with two fingers, wiping my cunt and his dick with some tissues.

“Now go to your next class. You should listen to me more often if you don’t want that again.”

I nodded.

Well.. looks like i wont be listening any time soon..

[ratlordsarah]

I have this silly head cannon for Steven that he’s known as “professor Boxleitner” because he used to teach college classes right after college bc he didn’t know what to do (ofc, he related to the students very much so he definitely made his class fun)

but after 2 years he thought it was kinda boring so he decided to teach 2nd graders because he thought it’d be more fun and also less of a challenge (atleast subject wise) and if the class would get really good test scores, they’d be allowed to watch the magic school bus instead of having a lesson.

due to this, Steven quickly became more interested in the magic school bus than the students, to where every Friday, they’d spend the last hour of the day watching the show, and the kids loved it.

After that year, he was called to work at the lab at the police station we see in the shorts bc of the book he made for superheroes (and also bc he was helping amazo guy as well)

so basically, Steven has video tapes of every single episode of the magic school bus, and honestly, I feel like he’d watch em with word girl If she wasn’t busy and wanted to waste time.

and even as two brains, you could still catch him watching it from time to time.

welcome to my Ted talk 💀

edit: when Steven walks down the street, you could hear him sing/hum the magic school bus intro

edit #2: he has unresolved beef with Arnold’s cousin

if he had a comfort character, it’d be miss frizzle

[deancasbigbang]

Title: A Hard Place

Author: Deanna

Artist: parhelion_ava

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel Novak; Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore; Dean/Meg (one time); Castiel/Mick (one time); Dean/Robin (one time)

Length: 90000

Warnings: undefined

Tags: Professor Castiel Novak; student/rockstar Dean Winchester; BDSM AU; dom Cas; sub Dean; flogging; rough sex; fluff; dom/sub drop; happy ending

Posting Date: October 19, 2023

Summary: Castiel Novak is a college Professor, who values education beyond all else. That is, until a certain rockstar enrolls in his class. As a Dom at the BDSM club “A Hard Place”, Castiel thinks he’ll never find his perfect, permanent sub. When rockstar Dean Winchester needs to go back to college, he’s reluctant to do so. That is, until he meets his smoking hot Professor. Dean is torn between his Professor and a wing-masked Angel he meets at a BDSM club.

Excerpt: Towards the end of class, Castiel notices that some of the students have lost focus. A few girls have even attempted to take selfies with the rockstar. If there had been more time left in their session, Castiel might have said something. Instead, he decides to assign a prompt for the students to work on over the weekend, asking them what they hope to gain out of this class. To wrap things up, Castiel writes his name on the whiteboard behind his desk, along with his phone number. “All my contact information is on the syllabus, but I like my students to be able to reach me anytime, so feel free to write down this number as well. You may address me as Castiel, Mr. Novak, or any variation of the word ‘professor’.” Castiel uses actual air quotes, eliciting a laugh from the class. Nearly all the students are writing down the information, while Mr. Famous takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the whiteboard. Dean then leans over to the girl next to him, nudges her with his elbow and whispers, “Scored the teacher’s number on day one, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her and she blushes, giggling to her peers. Castiel, however, is not so amused. He dismisses the class, but stops Dean when he reaches the front of the classroom. “Mr. Winchester. Please stay behind for a moment.” “Ugh, man, please stop calling me that…” Dean groans as he leans on Castiel’s desk. Castiel stands from where he was seated, hoping to loom over the man, but finds that he is in fact shorter than Dean. Regardless, Castiel isn’t going to let a height difference interfere with their dynamic. This is Castiel’s classroom and he expects his students to respect that. “Of course, Mr. Winchester. As soon as you stop referring to me as ‘dude’ or ‘man’.” Dean huffs out a laugh. “Ha! Good one, professor. That better?” “Lose the attitude and we’re golden.” “Dude, I don’t -” “Dean.” Castiel drops his voice slightly to grab Dean’s attention and Castiel is very interested to know what the man is thinking when he sees Dean’s jaw tighten. “You may be famous amongst your peers, but to me you are just another student. While in this classroom, you are here to learn. You will show respect to myself and your peers, or else face the consequences.” “Consequences, huh?” Dean smirks. “What kinda consequences we talkin’ here?” “The kind where you fail my class.” Castiel replies shortly. He’s not taking anymore of this man’s crap. Dean’s face falls slightly and Castiel is glad to have put his foot down. “Man, you’re no fun.” Dean whines as he pushes off the desk. “I’m here to teach, Mr. Winchester. Not to have fun.” “Suit yourself, handsome.” Dean punctuates his sentence with a wink, then turns to leave the classroom. Castiel sighs. This is going to be a long semester, he grimaces.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Can you write about Fionna, seeing the Simon petrikov of her world?

"Woah, wait what? There's a university nearby? Since when?"

Marshall shrugs. "Since forever?"

Gary blinks. "Marshall, you graduated from college?"

Marshall smacks him on the arm. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gary smiles as charmingly as he can. "Well, I mean... With your lifestyle..."

"I seem like an uneducated boor?" Marshall grins with just a hint of menace. "And you would be right. I never graduated. Mom made me take a bunch of business classes that I hated with every fiber of my being. So I dropped out."

Fionna blinks. "How come I never knew this about you? We've been friends since... since..."

Actually, if Fionna tries to think about when they became friends, her memories get a little foggy. Marshall crosses his eyes as if experiencing the same thing. This must be one of the side effects of their world technically being only 12 years old and at the same time much much older than that. Fionna is not 12 years old but neither can she concentrate on anything that happened before 12 years ago. It's... just a little unsettling, if she thought about it for long enough.

So, she does the tried and true method of simply not thinking about it too much. In the same way, she won't think about how it's completely novel to learn about nearby cities as if other cities didn't exist until very recently, like maybe even right now. It's whatever. She's learning about it now, and that's that.

"I... do remember..." Marshall murmurs softly, as if tugging on a particularly stubborn weed. "I snuck in an elective that Mom would have hated. It was about like Mothman and the Loch Ness monster."

"They teach you that in college??" Fionna gasps, her eyes going starry.

"Eh... It wasn't specifically about them but it was about folk lores and folk songs in general. I really loved the professor that taught it. She described like cryptids and encounters of the third kind in this really poetic, almost romantic way. It was kinda weird and like really cool at the same time. What was her name? Petrikov? Petrova? Petri-something..."

Everything in Fionna stops. She can no longer hear Marshall speaking. Because there's no way. There's no way!! Nothing outside of this city - which she knows like the back of her hand - has existed until literally someone "remembers" it exists. Their world is balancing on the knife's edge of already born and currently being made. And now there's a Petrikov here? What? WHAT?!?

Gary gently taps her arm. "Um, Fionna? You in there?"

Fionna grabs Marshall by the front of his shirt. "You have to introduce me to... her? Professor Petrikov is a woman??"

Marshall squints at her, looking markedly more intent. "Yeah. She is."

Fionna should probably note the terrible emphasis in Marshall's tone just now. But her mind is whirling with implications. Simon is here? She has a Simon in her world? A Simon specifically for this world? Holy schmazow.

Gary tilts his head, observing his boyfriend in a way that Fionna is simply unequipped to presently.

"You're... protective of her. That's kinda sweet."

As always, when faced with evidence of his sentiment, Marshall curls into himself, shrugging it off as casually as he can. "I mean, it's just you know... She's a really great professor. I learned a lot from her."

Then as if rousing himself from sleep, a certain awareness enters his eyes. Fionna catches that and wonders if a new part of their world - their shared lore - was just made.

"Yeah, actually you know what... The semester that I took her class, that's when I started playing around with songwriting. She inspired me to look into poetry more. And after her class ended, I dropped out." Marshall nods to himself, kicking back with that patented bad boy smirk. "I've been a vagabond ever since."

Gary rolls his eyes at him. "Some vagabond you are, crashing on my couch."

Marshall winks at him. "You'd be lonely."

Fionna raises a hand. "Let's get back to Professor Petrikov. Can you like introduce us?"

Marshall turn, losing some of his sass as he focuses on her. "I mean yeah. I've been meaning to visit."

Fionna feels her smile stretch so wide, her cheeks begin to hurt. "Road trip!!!"

[theoryandahalf]

I just realized I have literally no time & skill to write the Fnaf au/joking because it'd take forever

seriously though, why does everyone want to give students homework. I go to school , that should be enough :/

In a question I swear is relevant , team theorists as types teachers

MatPat would probably be English - don't ask my why he just gives english teacher vibes

I'm pretty sure there are studies that show too much homework is ineffective but don't quote me on it. Hang in there pal, fanfic can wait for the weekend.

I kinda agree Matt gives off Dead Poets Society vibes but I think he's said on record he hated English classes (was I the only one shocked that MatPat doesn't read?!). If he's teaching high school, yeah he's the AP Lit professor. If he's teaching college, he's the really young, oversharing Psych101 professor who's really cool but you also know too much about his wife, kid and cat, and his weekend hobbies. He's overcommitted on five hundred faculty committees and faculty Senate. He's won Teacher/Professor of the Year five times and he's not even 40 yet. In his spare time he consults for Google.

My other guesses:

Stephanie: Chemistry Professor or high school Chem teacher. God help you poor kids in her class, she's the strictest grader and the only time she unwinds is when Mr. Patrick sneaks into her classroom in between break periods. You know nothing about her personal life. Is she married to Mr. Patrick/Dr Patrick, or are they just friends?! Unless you have Mr Patrick and he overshares about her, you won't know, and you never will.

Lee: Bad ass History teacher all the way, in university and high school. He's also the advisor for the academic decathlon team. He's the chillest teacher ever and he'll let you sleep in his class. Just don't disrespect Tolkien in his presence.

Amy: Art teacher in high school, teaches fashion and design at the college level. She gives off 'mean teacher' vibes because most people only see her interact with Mr. Massa and Mr. Robinson and she often rips them a new one for being too loud and obnoxious. But she's actually fantastic to have in class and you learn a lot from her.

You also work your butt off. Don't take her as an elective.

Tom: ...I have no idea. I guess choir director? Tom is dyslexic and ADHD so teaching would be a hard profession for him. I can see him doing choir/show choir at the high school level though. He seems to give really good advice on his streams so maybe he's a school guidance counselor or adviser.

Santi: Physical education or kinesiology professor. He beefs with Mr. Robinson all the time because he keeps stealing his best football players for his stupid little drama club. Clearly PE is superior because there's more sports scholarships than there are art, so Tom is really just bringing down the entire school. Mr. Massa is also a very chill teacher, he'll let you skip class so long as Mr. Patrick doesn't notice you're not at the all school assembly (because he will notice).

Ash: The overburdened AV instructor/school librarian/media specialist in the Theorist high school. For college, they are the media librarian that just wants you to return the dvd copy of Return of the King, LEE. Ash never has enough money or time in any incarnation but they are the most cheerful and bad ass LGBTQ+ student club advisor you've ever had. Lies to homophobic parents and says they're just a gaming club because you do usually end up discussing FNAF lore for hours until Ms. Cordato knocks on the door to politely kick you all out because its 5pm.

BONUS

Head Editor Dan: Animation professor or creative writing teacher at Theorist High. Also does freshmen homeroom so he's constantly in pain and in need of coffee. Gives off 'don't mess with me' vibes but is a real sweetheart if you get to know him. But what you don't know is that he's pitching five different tv pilots and one of these days he will just randomly disappear because his show was bought by ABC. Ten years from now you'll see his name in the credits of your favorite show as the Executive Producer.

[monsieuroverlord]

NYX #1 Thoughts:

It was alright, very Kamala/Ms. Marvel and Sophie-focused. It was a decent set up of the premise, and I'll keep an eye on it.

Spoilers:

The Krakoan is Julian Keller/Hellion as everyone called it. Just in case anyone missed the leaks on Twitter.

Him and the rest of Cuckoos are apparently working with Empath, and the current implication is that he may be amping up and/or twisting their post-Krakoa emotions.

Anole, we didn't see much of, other than he's a bartender now.

Not only is David teaching, but he's also a tenure-track professor.

As someone who works for an American university, I'd be so curious to see how that happened. I mean, at least for the department I work for (very research-heavy stem field), its a LOT to negotiate tenure-track, even with years of experience and a Ph.D. Its like a 3-4 day marathon of presentations, wining-and-dining, meetings after meetings, tours, and a red-eye flight back home. You basically gotta meet everyone in our department and not only show that you know what you're talking about, but also that you won't be an asshole to the established professors (I know this, because I'm the one assisting in organizing everything and making sure the right faculty shows up on time to give a lab tour to the applicant, lol)

I think in some areas, you can get away with an M.S. degree for tenure, but in most cases, its Ph.D.

And that doesn't even mean you are guaranteed to get tenure. There's a whole other review process for that.

Anyway, Sophie is right to call it out here. It does kinda feel like a hand-out. I wonder if that will come into play later?

I'd like to see David's point of view first, though. Maybe there's a secret plot where some of the faculty are evil and its an anti-mutant trap to lure him into a false sense of security. But he's too smart for that and plays them. I don't know.

Or maybe he got his P.h.D. That'd be dope.

I don't trust David's new boyfriend. He hasn't said much yet, but I don't trust him.

This issue is heavily focused on Kamala's point of view, and strongly features Sophie as well. It makes sense, as Kamala is the "newer mutant" in a sense, and serves well to introduce the reader to the setting and potentional storylines to follow.

Sophie and Kamala also have a budding friendship, and I think it's very cute.

I think the next issue at least is supposed to shift to Laura's point of view.

We also don't see too much of Laura, and she didn't appear to be in the college class? Maybe she joins later, or is a guest speaker, I don't know. OR maybe she's going undercover?!?!

We did get this pretty image on the opening page:

Laura only runs into Kamala while she's investigating a mutant terrorist attack.

I love her new look so much. It's very fashionable and actually makes her look distinct from Logan while she's still clearly a Wolverine. Props to the designer.

And now Marvel needs to free Akihiro from Hellverine psuedo-death-ressurection and give him a unique outfit and/or codename too. Thank you.

Laura really only says this though:

I don't know how I feel about her characterization here. I mean, its not the worst thing, but it lacks context for me.

I mean, what is Laura doing? Where is Gabby? Is Akihiro still dead and she's surly with grief? (because Hellverine hasn't finished yet and we don't know how that will end) Does she feel like she has to pick up the pieces and play hero because Logan fucked off to the Canadian Wilderness again?

I have many questions about my girl and her general well-being.

In general, I'm currently on the fence about her characterization. It could go either way.

I suppose we'll have to wait until next issue ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In summary, it was a decent set-up. I read the X-Men Monday interview, so there was nothing that surprised me. Art is very good.

Also, this is me being a grumpy old bastard, but I hate the QR code pages they're doing now. Just print the damn page. I tried the scanner on both my phone and tablet, and it kept redirecting me to a broken link and I get a "500 Internal Error" message. I have no idea what that page is about. I personally don't like this concept of secret QR code pages and is irritating.

For digital reading, its more okay, but I also buy physical copies. I don't want to have to whip out my phone and/or tablet just for a gimmick to get the full issue. And who knows if the website eventually goes defunt years from now and then the QR codes are rendered useless. Then what?

[x-abysmal-x]

I emerge from the void to give you something very different than my usual posts. A paper I wrote that kinda sticks to me.

A little over a year ago I was taking college classes, and in particular my writing professor was the one that stood out to me. Not only did she teach me how to make great pieces, but also how to THINK what to FEEL for when I wrote. Because of this, she made our first assignment prompt somewhere along the lines of "Five minutes of your life", and we had to make a good couple pages out of it.

I probably shouldn't have made it something so personal, perhaps more lighthearted, but for some god forsaken reason I chose one of my worst anxiety attacks. I don't regret making that the subject of my paper, but I do sort of regret how I portrayed it, as I kind of made some parts over-dramatic. Mostly to fill the page, but as the person who had that experience I don't feel like I did it much justice. I feel like I could write it much better.

I however wanted to share it, because I felt like it wasn't doing any good just sitting in my documents. I also thought it'd be a good way to show my writing style, perhaps even get some tips on how to improve my writing further.

I want people to know that this is an experience that happened many years ago, and the things that caused it have been remedied and medicated. I am, for the most part, mentally sound.

This being said, if you think the content will distress you, I do recommend scrolling past, or at least preparing yourself before you read. It's not terribly graphic or anything, but I'd like to be safe.

I also recommend that if you think a slightly over-dramatic depiction of an anxiety attack will offend you, to scroll past.

⚠️ Content Warning ⚠️

Written depiction of suicidal ideation, written detailed depiction of an anxiety attack.

[Names Excluded for Privacy]

Writing and Rhetoric

February 8, 2023 

In the Corner of the Kitchen Floor 

I live in a hell that comes in waves, scorned by the hands of anxiety. It prowls beside me, waiting for something to push it over the edge so it may pounce. It was an anxiety attack that made me realize the kind of world I would always live in. It was an anxiety attack that nearly convinced me to lock myself away for the rest of my life. It was an anxiety attack that nearly ended my dreams of a happy life, and the dreams to come. That is because this was the anxiety attack that nearly killed me. 

I remember vividly, I sit in a corner created by a ninety-degree bent countertop, lined on the sides with cupboards and on the top of which is a sink. The side to my left points to a door leading to the balcony, the side to my right leading to a gently humming refrigerator, beyond which is the further depths of the house. The floor is a poorly aged kitchen tile, broken in some places and rotted in others. The walls are coated in a thin wallpaper of cows upon a green sheet, all facing towards whoever is in the room. Taking up the middle of the room is a large, crummy table that is always crammed full of letters, fruit dishes, and other junk, pressed up against a window that looms a good fifteen or more feet over the back yard. 

I can clearly see the truthful state of this room, but in the moment, it instead feels like the rotting floor is crumbling beneath my feet. It feels like the whirring of the refrigerator is a deafeningly loud buzz and the cows that line the walls are instead eyes that are stretching along an ever-tall ceiling. It feels like the junk piled on top of the table is piled up in oceans that are waiting to crash down upon me, brightly illuminated by the blaring light of the outdoors. It feels like the cupboards behind me are sharp enough to cut into my back if I lean too far into them. Yet however much I acknowledge these lies; this pounding feeling remains the same. 

As I sit there, I am scorched by distant screams and accusations from my mother. My father on the other hand is pacing in a delirious panic, unable to conjure up words from behind bars of his own dementia. Both things are eaten up by the depths of my brain and spit back up in a scorching mass of screams, bashings, and retorts of disgust. I do not hear these things boiling up from my brain, but I feel them, and the feeling is louder than any deafening ring any sound can make. By now my nails dig deep into my arms, and I scream, in desperate hopes to drown them all out. 

I scream as long and as loud as I possibly can, until my lungs burn and beg for air. I gasp for breath, and then I scream again. That finally quiets nearly every noise around me except for those that could not be helped, all there was left were the ones from inside. What I realize much too late is that I had fed their fire. The scorching screams, the burning bashings, they boil up with every desperate cry I croak out and intend to drag me further into their swirling flame. The feeling soon grows so overwhelming that I grow numb, and my only combatting thoughts grow deafeningly silent. I scream out again, this time not in desperation, but in pain. 

I begin to spiral deeper into more disturbing thought, a thing I was hoping to ward off. I start to dread the very possibility of this happening again, the very fact that it’s happening now. As this dread settles in, my eyes entirely blind me with a steady stream of tears. This further fed the bashings, reminding me of how blind I was to the things that caused it. It did not help that my mind had begun to blur as far as to not even remember what even pushed me to this degree, as it feeds them even more fodder. The blur of desperation got to the point where I entirely disregard my common sense. 

If it were not for the fact that I am too petrified to move, I would act upon these desperate thoughts. I think to myself, “Just maybe if I ended it all here, I’ll never have to go through this again.” The fear of stealing away my parent’s child drags me to another thought, “If I’m unconscious, I can’t go through this anymore.” The fear of dropping into a coma though drags me on to scramble for a new solution, but I am interrupted again by the snares from the depths of my brain. 

They scream at me for even thinking of these things, some screams go as far as to encourage it. They tell me in excruciating detail about how I can just throw myself off that balcony and kiss this whole ordeal goodbye like the pathetic coward they say I am. They illustrate how quickly a small slice to my neck by one of the kitchen knives behind me could bring this panic to an end. They paint me vivid imagery of the many horrible ways I could cut into myself to cause what they say is enough pain to shut them up. 

What I did not realize until now was that I began laughing. It is not the lighthearted kind that you hear out of a joke, or the forced kind you hear out of a bad one. As I hear it, it is a pained blood-curdling scream, sloppily trying to disguise itself as laughter. It is not a noise I have ever made before, one that chilled me to my bones. Is this the chilling laughter that so many have claimed to hear? Am I going mad? 

I scream one last time to shut myself up, and it does. Finally, it worked. When I look up from the ground, I realize it is all over. I realize where I am, I realize what I did, what I did not, and what I had just so confidently thought. I realize I had just almost died by my own hands, and for what? I scoff at myself in disgust, and let tears take me until the pain subsides. 

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

wait PLEASE tell us the professor firing story im so curious

Oh man. I’d like to preface this as something I’m not… one hundred percent proud of. Or at least, not something I brag about. I’m not sad or upset that I did it, and not sure if I’d have changed anything had I the chance. The man did deserve it. But here’s the entirely too long story.

(If you see typos or other weirdness, no you don’t.)

Imagine this—it’s 2018, it’s almost your last semester of community college. It’s spring semester, it’s cold, and you just got told that for the first time, your psychology class is NOT going to be under your favorite professor (not because he quit, he just didn’t teach this one). So, you’ve already had a full day of classes. It’s your last class of the day, it’s around noon to early afternoon, and you’ve actually had lectures in this classroom before.

You go in. Some chatting students, you choose a seat in the second row, kind of far from the door but those were already taken. Time passes.

Then suddenly, dread. That gut feeling that you absolutely should leave, right now, no matter what.

A man has just walked in.

We’ll call him Stanley, because that was his fucking name, Stanley…. Hawk. I’m not protecting his name because I care, but to keep myself and my classmates more anonymous.

That was my honest to goodness first reaction to this man. We had never met. And all I could think was “PLEASE tell me this isn’t the professor”.

He was, in fact, the social psychology professor.

From the first class, there are a number of red flags. He locks the door, ‘for safety’, despite that door actually being quite close to an exit-only door. He insists we MUST email him if we are to miss class—not in an ‘inform him’ way, by how he phrased it. If he could have said that we required his permission, he would have, and he was just short of that statement. He’s kinda weird about letting us out for bathroom breaks too. And he just seems… off. And the way he wants us to contact him is NOT through email. No, he hands us business cards and asks us to CALL HIM. Anyone who has had a college class will tell you—that’s EXTREMELY fucking weird.

Still, we power through. Because maybe the gut instinct was wrong, maybe he’s just strict.

AHAHAHAHA.

No.

Throughout the months I had him, he:

-Repeated the same lessons multiple times (don’t talk to me about the prison experiment I will SCREAM).

-Mostly call on one particular non-white guy

-Not ever get this one woman’s name right, probably because she was South American. Her name wasn’t hard, it was like- Marianna, and he’d like, call her Mary-Anne or other mispronunciations

-Get MY name right despite it being more difficult, though it still took him a few times. Either cause I’m White American or because my sister worked front desk, I’m not sure

-Mispronounced most of the women’s names at least once, even easy ones—he did not do this with any of the men

-(To my knowledge, the only genderqueer person was me, and I wasn’t public about it, and CERTAINLY wasn’t telling HIM that)

-Otherwise would talk wrestling with one guy who sat behind me. During class.

-Often went on tangents unrelated to the topic

-Claimed that he would take all the confederate statues and have them in his yard, proudly. He mentioned this at LEAST three times.

-Always mentioned that some of his grandkids were adopted Asian kids but was like… weird about it, genuinely not sure how to describe it

-Once went on an entire, unprompted safety lecture, saying to “you girls” (again, college, ‘girls’ isn’t the exact term I’d use) that we should make sure to immediately lock our car doors because we always “spend time getting all settled in when you drive, with your phones and purses and makeup”. He did not say the same to the “boys”, and also—I felt more unsafe that HE’D do something than anyone else

-Semi-often bemoaned the fact he couldn’t just hug students because of policy, that he couldn’t touch them even as a friendly pat on the shoulder because they might go to the college board. No, I’m not kidding. He actually said this sort of thing. I WONDER WHY THE STUDENTS DON’T WANT YOU TOUCHING THEM.

One of the worst incidents, he mishandled our test times, saying it was due at 12 midnight (online testing). I go to do it at about 2 pm… it’s closed. It’s Friday. I email him multiple times. I had to email the DEAN OF THE DEPARTMENT to get him to even answer. Said he ‘messed up’ and that it accidentally was put at 12 noon. He then tried to blame me alone, except no—another student (we’ll say… Alexis) ALSO had the same issue. He then said next time to call him. I don’t think I said anything, but I always did assignments before 12 noon so that there would not be a ‘next time’.

Then, one day, he had us list out twenty traits. Or like, things we like to do. Something to that effect. It was personal, is the main thing.

And then share that with the class.

It felt extremely elementary, we were almost through with the school semester, and I had learned nothing. I didn’t like this teacher, he kept fumbling, and that gut feeling just kept coming back. The anxiety I felt every time he locked the door.

And I remembered a post going around, about how we are not obligated to share things we don’t want to, especially in a classroom.

So, as I take my turn, I list out some generic things about likes and dislikes.

And I say something to the tune of, “I don’t like sharing with an entire class of almost strangers about myself when I don’t even know them.”

Several people start to talk in agreement, but I just keep reading my other statements. Because no, now is not the time. We have PLANNING to do.

Sure enough, I get two main allies from this. One Alexis, who was the student that also didn’t take the test. Another is a student who had been challenging him the entire semester- we’ll call her Sarah. She’d unlock the door pretty much any time Stephen Fucking Hawk wasn’t paying attention. Sarah is the one who approached me, so while I may have been a bit of a… not quite figurehead of this because of my earlier stunt(s), Sarah is the real mastermind here.

That said, I’m not sure if we’d have come together as such had I not done that little stand up for myself in class. A stand up that was inspired by a TUMBLR POST. Like, directly inspired. Before that point, I had thought that there’s no WAY this happens, that professors expect an airing of grievances in class, to virtual strangers. Jokes on me, but continuing on.

Sarah and I start airing our grievances, and we realize we’re actually in the same sociology class as well as being in the same social psychology class (yes, I got them confused, no, I never fully got UNconfused, because while Mrs. H was a fairly good sociology teacher, Stanley Fucking Hawk was not a good social psychology teacher). We decide—next class period, after the lesson was done. we’ll talk to her. Alexis isn’t in the class, but she promises to come in straight after her other class to help.

Poor Mrs. H looked so overwhelmed.

Especially when people we hadn’t EVEN MET started chiming in about stuff we didn’t even know about. Apparently, he talked about sex things in class before? Anyways.

She promised to talk with some of the higher ups. We continued on. We had like, other priorities.

About a few days later, Stephen Fucking Hawk is called to a meeting with the Dean. I know this, because he appeared briefly to give us a worksheet to work on for half an hour until he got back. Again, ask any college student—it’s weird that this was done during class time. Or that class wasn’t called off for the day.

I decided, yeah, fuck this, do the ten billionth really dumb worksheet for this prof (also a repeat, I think, which was not a new thing with him), and in half an hour I’m leaving. My baby niece was just born. Also, no, I was not emailing him for permission. This was not a job, he was not my boss, and I’d had enough of him. Not like he checked them ANYWAYS, as proven before.

He returned, a bit late and a little frazzled. I go to turn in my worksheet and leave.

He tried to stop me, trying to cite his little attendance policy. I honest to goodness think he’d have grabbed my wrist had he been allowed, or possibly if I hadn’t dodged.

I DO remember snapping at him that I WAS leaving, I’m ALLOWED to make that choice, and I was GOING to go see my niece.

I was also in martial arts at the time. So there’s a good chance he recognized that I could and WOULD sock him in the face if he tried something.

I left. He never looked at me for long ever again. Not that he usually did—chronic bitch face worked WONDERS, and I’m understanding why so many people, women in particular, might have gotten this trait.

After that, things are… average. There was still a few weeks, about a month, left still. We figure that if anything did happen, it’ll be after exams. That’s fine. So long as something is done. Naturally, we’re kept in the dark.

Then we get our course and professor evals. Basically, papers we were given in class to grade the class and the professor, with a small section at the end to write out any additional comments. You could add more paper to that section if you wanted to.

These were normal and mandatory in this college.

Y’all. People BROUGHT extra paper to class. I’m pretty sure Sarah wrote out five pages alone. Keep in mind, getting the usual comment section filled out at ALL was either optional or rarely exceeded the small space.

I think I only used one or two extra sheets, I DO recall filling a page both front and back. But keep in mind—I have somewhat small handwriting.

I savor the panic on that man’s eyes as he saw that people just. Kept. Writing. An exercise that usually took ten minutes and was technically anonymous (students had to handle the paperwork, both giving it out, taking them back, and turning it in at the front desk) took at least twice that.

Anyways, the next couple of classes were… well. Subdued on his end. Less tangents. He’s still not a good teacher, but none of use are actually paying attention.

We then get the news—he isn’t returning next semester.

There wasn’t a cheer, but Sarah and Alexis and a few other people in the class Share Looks. He doesn’t mention why, but We Knew.

Fun bonus fact about my college—like most schools, there’s a set amount of days per class you can miss without a cause, about two weeks. Since many exams were online, the popular trend—and professors knew and adjusted to this—was that students who hadn’t missed their earlier days would just not be in class the last couple of weeks. They’d show up to an in-person exam, if needed, but those last couple of weeks were usually exam prep and damn near an option for most classes.

I had to go to one class of his during the two week period because I missed a day, and half of everyone was gone.

After that day, I did not return to that class.

I got an A in that class despite knowing JACK about social psychology, and Stephen Fucking Hawk was gone from the staff directory from them on.

And that’s how a tumblr post helped me get a man fired, kind of.