Aug 12, 2022
”professor? oh no, you must have misheard me, I’m a possessor”
seen from Malaysia
seen from Japan
seen from Japan
seen from Thailand
seen from Thailand
seen from Ireland
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Singapore
seen from China
seen from Belgium
seen from Thailand
seen from Malaysia
seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Japan
”professor? oh no, you must have misheard me, I’m a possessor”
20/04/2021
Worked for a long time but the task took me longer than I thought, so I didn't do as much as I wanted to.
My presentation could have gone better, it seems we didn't focus it on the right thing (even though the professor gave 0 instructions... but whatever I guess).
And on another project they didn't like the topic we proposed but didn't help us at all...
Kind of a good study day but a bad class day. Tomorrow will be better (I hope)
We Put Down In Writing What Is Happening In Our Minds (Beast/Hank McCoy [X-Men] x Male Professor!OC)
“Professor Hale!”
I turn from the blackboard and look down to see a young girl with a few feathers growing in her hair. She has a strange look on her face, like she knows something I don’t.
“Yes, Jules, what is it?”
“Somebody wrote you a letter. Who does that?” She says, likely knowing exactly who.
“Alright, give it here.”
He hands me an envelope and scurries off. I turn it over. It’s addressed to “Professor Wesley Hale” with no return address. Well, it can’t be Jules, the handwriting is too neat.
I unfold the envelope and read it in one hand, erasing the messy drawings from today’s lesson with the other.
“Dear Wesley Hale,
You seem to be unaware that you are the best-looking person in this whole academy. Though now that I’ve told you, your are likely denying it. You shouldn’t. It’s not a matter of opinion, it’s a simple fact. It’s only made more beautiful by how you use your powers. Not only do you use your hexagonal screens as shields, but also as platforms to lift yourself and other objects with ease. Besides that beautiful strength, the screens themselves, that magenta outlined by yellow, is fascinating to me. Unfortunately I am not very confident in my affections, but it’s better that I told you anyway. It puts a weight off my shoulders, even if it’s a small one.
-Your secret admirer.”
Ok, my first thought: is this a ploy from one of the kids to round up their grade? But it can’t be, they didn’t put their name. Is it one of those creepy teacher-student things, because I don’t wanna deal with any of that. But no, it’s too formal. And who says “secret admirer” anymore? I step out into the hallway and immediately put up a shield.
There’s about eight kids hanging outside the door, badly pretending not to have just been watching me. “Go to your rooms,” I say, exasperated.
——————————————————————————
The next day, it happens again.
This time it’s Edgar who delivers the note, a smirk rising on his normally expressionless face, looking slighly down at me with heavy black eyeliner and even darker black scleras. He walks away, platform boots clicking on the floor. “Gotta say, he’s obsessed with you, man.”
He’s obsessed with you.
He.
I’m fairly certain that I’m out to my class if not the whole school, so that narrows it down some. I open it.
“Dear Wesley Hale,
I have summed up the courage to write to you again. I know that though I am likely never going to have enough bravery to fully reveal myself to you (innuendo not intended), I know without a doubt that I love you. It is not just an attraction. I love how you talk to the kids, the dynamics are just so natural. You get them excited about so many things, which gives them the drive to pursue anything they can think of. If we were... together, I feel like you could influence me, and I would let you.
-Your secret admirer.”
Jesus. Edgar wasn’t kidding. Though it’s nice to be complimented on something I never really took notice of. Wait. The kids. He called my students “the kids.”
Which means it’s a faculty member.
Alright, this is totally gonna call for an emergency meeting at the end of the week. I walk out, and holy shit it’s like fifteen of them this time. Half are snickering while the others just look, knowingly. I know they won’t cough up the identity that easily, so I send them off and retire to my room.
God, how age ruined me. And my dark purple sweater vest and tie matched with a brown trenchcoat make me look like a character straight out of Dead Poets Society.
I remove my round spectacles and rap my fingers on my desk.
Who could it be? Who could it be? Who could it be?
——————————————————————————
Another day, another note. This time it’s Sheila, holding it out less with her fingers and more with her inch-long nails. I take it.
When she starts to leave, I say, “Hey Sheila, can I ask you something?”
She stops and turns, blushing slightly.
“Don’t worry, I know it’s not you. Can I just ask, who is your teacher before this class?”
“Mr. McCoy.”
Hank? Seriously? No, that can’t be. He can’t be gay.
I step out, tapping Jules on the shoulder. She squawks in surprise.
“What’s your class before mine?” I say. “Which teacher?”
“Hank McCoy.”
No. Gotta be a coincidence. Just have to make sure...
I turn and see Edgar chilling on the wall, as if he was expecting me.
“Before my class—”
He interrupts. “Mr. McCoy.”
Holy shit. It’s Hank. They all gave me the notes, they were all in Hank’s class right before mine. It’s him. The one guy in this whole place that I made the mistake of falling for, is gay and into me. Not just that, he loves me! How the hell did that happen? I tear open the letter, Hank’s voice reading it in my mind.
“My Dearest, Wesley,
I’m sure by now you have some idea of who I am. While I will not tell you exactly, I will say this: I am sorry if I have ever made you uncomfortable with these letters. That was never my intention. I simply had these feelings for so long that I could not bear to hold them in any longer. I long to touch your face, know your taste, to tell you how beautiful your eyes look through your spectacles. I know that I likely will never have neither these thoughts nor these feelings returned, so this is the last thing I write to you.
Love, Secret Admirer.”
He put “love” in the signature. He told me he never meant to make me uncomfortable. He put a goddamn comma after “dearest,” changing the meaning. I hear a door lock behind me. I turn.
It’s Hank. He looks at me with some sadness in his eyes, but looks away, not knowing if I know. I walk towards him.
I’m getting closer, and he’s looking back.
I’m getting closer, and he’s looking confused.
I’m getting closer, and he opens his mouth.
I’m walking, and he’s taller than me, but for some reason I make small steps unconsciously to be at eye level.
“Mr. Hale, is there—”
I shut him up with my lips. He’s said enough.
He tastes like a forest, like copper, like smoke. I hold his cheeks in my hands. I pull away. His yellow eyes look so fucking pretty through his glasses. I tell him so. He smiles. Laughs. Kisses me again.
A loud cheer from behind me lands me back on the floor. I look and there’s my entire class and then some, likely from Hank’s. They start applauding, and Hank has a deep shade of purple across his blue skin. Is that what he looks like when he blushes? I’d love to see it again, and again, and again.
I stand on my tiptoes, he leans down a bit, and now I taste a bit of myself mixed in there, too.
We are so very pleased to welcome Slytherin to our online Hogwarts experience!
A warm welcome to all Slytherin that wish to join.
And of course, any house is welcome. We hope you enjoy your stay!
Here’s a sneak peak of how the Slytherin Common Room looks,
and once we do find professors to be head of the other houses, they’ll look similar!
Please do not forget, that if you wish to join, please contact us at this tumblr account!
Greatest Wishes, Headmistress Maisie and the four Heads of Slytherin Selma, Amy, Liz and Xavier
@moonnymph @putain-cha0s-partout @ames259
Snape:Ill have a coke
Hagrid:Is Pepsi okay?
Snape:Is monopoly money okay?
Academic Blasphemy
God I love how innocent freshman are; like you guys are so concerned about picking the topics of ya’ll’s essays... and meanwhile I am sitting here writing about 80′s cyborg feminism and have said ‘sex’ 15 times in 7 pages, as well as the words ‘prostitution,’ ‘domination,’ ‘fetishization,’ and all kinds of other blasphemy...hope you enjoy the paper proffesor, lol.
Luck
I have been SO lucky today I swear to god! Something out there helping me! I SWORE I didn’t have class today! I would have bet my life on it! I’ve checked my schedule hundreds of times not believing that I had the day off! Well my friend missed one of her classes today because she misread her schedule and was swearing up and down she didn’t have the class until later! So I was thinking like, “hmm wouldn’t it be funny if I was misreading mine all along too?” And I started overthinking so I checked my schedule one final time AND I HAD CLASS! I would have missed all my classes today had I not checked the schedule because the reminder from my friend! Following that! My math professor said we would have daily little homework assignments on Monday that would start today on Tuesday. Well I checked online and couldn’t find any assignments anywhere so I assumed I didn’t have any! Well I was about to fall asleep when I got an email alert! She said a lot of people had questions and were emailing her about the book so she sent better instructions and said that THE HOMEWORK would be pushed back to be due tomorrow! I went back online and found it in a place I hadn’t thought to check! So I would have missed my first due date for my VERY FIRST HOMEWORK! I think my lucks running out and I’m really hoping it’s not because man! Idk what’s going on!
08/20/19