#PROFESSOR

[academic-vampire]

One of my favorite uni memories was when my professor said he hadn’t had a burger from our cafeteria in ten years, but ten years ago it was his favorite burger.

So my friend and I went to the cafeteria at the end of the semester and got him his burger and this was his face when he saw it:

He said: “I love it 🥹”

[warandpeas]

Choices

[floral-ashes]

Thanks to Peter Boghossian for advertising my work! How kind of him. He even seems to imply that he wish he’d written it.🥰

[without-ado]

Home library of the late Richard Macksey, legendary Hopkins prof.

[noisyasalways]

he will be mist <2

[karlrincon]

Raising our wands for Michael Gambon. 🪄

“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light” - Albus Dumbledore

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was hired as Taylor Swift's bodyguard because she wanted to go back to college. She was very upset that no one cared that she was Taylor Swift. She was very upset that I didn’t know she was Taylor Swift. She bribed my professors to fail all my classes because of that.

[extrafew]

About to give a lecture on the importance of good eating habits. Will you be joining?

[poisonlove]

Study Session | c.s

pairing: Cairo Sweet X fem reader

Summary: Y/n is terrible in literature and needs a hand

Words: 11.58 k

"Miss Y/S, could you come here for a moment, please?" Mr. Miller asks kindly.

I blink in surprise and walk towards the lectern, my feet almost stumbling on the wooden floorboards. I blush with embarrassment, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Cairo looking towards us with seriousness, organizing her belongings.

I swallow nervously and bite my lower lip, my eyes first glancing at Cairo and then at Professor Miller.

Now is not the time to think about your one-sided crush, y/n I mentally scold myself.

I force a smile and look at the professor with genuine curiosity. "Do you need something, sir?" I say, smiling happily, trying to hide my nervousness.

"I'm not sure how to put this..." Professor Miller sighs and takes off his glasses, looking up to meet our eyes. My smile falters seeing the concern and distress behind his eyes. Professor Miller sighs and takes the assignment I had done last week in his hands.

"It's... It's a mediocre work," he says hesitantly, almost embarrassed.

"To be honest... If you don't do something that impresses me, Miss, you'll fail my class," he says with a tone of voice almost guilty.

My palms sweat, and I try to remain calm. I knew I was really bad at literature, but I didn't expect to fail the year altogether. But what can I say? No matter how hard I try, I can't adequately transcribe what I think onto paper.

"I'm sorry," I whisper reluctantly, deeply ashamed of myself.

Professor Miller gives me a gentle smile, tilting his head slightly as he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"You have great potential," he states with conviction, trying to instill confidence in me. "But you simply have a few more difficulties," he concludes with a compassionate tone, seeking my gaze empathetically.

I stare into his eyes, noticing the intention of conveying moral support.

"Miss Sweet," Professor Miller calls Cairo's attention, making her focus on him.

"Yes, Professor Miller?" she responds with a radiant smile, her eyes shining for... some strange reason.

"Could you help Y/N?" the professor asks, looking at me sideways.

His request makes me feel slightly offended for not having a say, but at the same time, it puts me in a state of anxiety because I would have to work with the girl I've always liked.

Cairo's eyes focus on my figure with curiosity, making me feel nervous and embarrassed by her enchanting beauty. A small smile spreads across her lips before she looks at the literature professor.

Brown eyes looking at Mr. Miller.

"Alright," Cairo responds with a shy smile, which also makes the professor smile.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, observing this strange scene with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

Cairo's smile is kind but enigmatic, as if hiding something behind that seemingly calm façade. I wonder what it could be, but I decide not to delve too deeply into it at that moment.

Professor Miller seems pleased with her acceptance and nods with a pleased expression. "Great! I'm sure you'll make an exceptional team," he comments enthusiastically, encouraging us to work together towards our common goal.

"Cairo," says the professor, maintaining a dazzling smile, "if you succeed in the task, you'll earn an extra credit," he announces proudly, turning his gaze towards his student with a mixture of hope and trust.

Cairo smiles weakly, visibly embarrassed by the attention she's received.

"Well then," I intervene timidly, trying to dissipate the strange tension that has arisen, "shall we?" I add, looking at the girl I've always had a secret crush on with flushed cheeks.

Despite my shyness and the nervousness that overwhelms me, I strive to maintain a calm and decisive tone, hoping to convey confidence both to myself and to Cairo as we prepare to face this new challenge together.

(...)

"So... What do you think?" I say nervously, my hands fidgeting with the threads of my jeans.

I roll a thread around my finger and pull it, tossing it into the grass.

Cairo's eyes fixate on my paper attentively, her pupils moving along my essay with seriousness. The brunette lowers the sheet and looks at me carefully.

"Well?" I say, feeling my stomach tied up with nerves. "Hmm..." She starts hesitantly, tilting her head and leaning against the tree behind her.

The day was perfect, and we had mutually agreed to spend it outdoors doing literature. The rays filtering through the branches highlight Cairo's face, making her eyes appear light brown

She was... Beautiful.

"Is it okay?" She says timidly.

Cairo hands me back the paper, and I sigh in frustration. I could sense that something was missing.

"Come on... Tell me the truth," I say, looking at Cairo curiously. The brunette bites her lower lip and adjusts her posture.

"So... It's not bad, but..." she starts and bites her lower lip, thoughtful. "It lacks emotion... I don't see the passion... I don't perceive anything," she confesses, and I pout.

Darn it... I wanted the truth, but it was entirely heavy

"I knew I shouldn't have spoken," she quickly says, quickly moving her hand, noticing my frown on her lips. "It's perfect," she smiles broadly, and my eyes soften seeing how sweet and cute she was with that expression on her face.

The dimple was adorable, and her eyes sparkled when she talked about something related to writing.

"No... I asked you to be honest, and you were," I say quickly, smiling.

Her eyes look at me with curiosity, and I try to maintain eye contact as much as possible. "Okay..." Cairo murmurs before giving in to this staring contest, taking her notebook.

"I... " I start hesitantly, "have an old piece that I'd like you to read," I say timidly.

I was aware of the risk that she would realize it was about her, but despite that, I thought it was my best work. After all, I wrote it with all the love I feel for her.

"Oh... I'd be happy to," she says sincerely, her pearly whites showing her beautiful smile. Cairo's eyes light up at the mention of reading something, and she quickly reaches her hand towards me.

Shyly, I grab my backpack and search for my work, immediately noticing that it was sandwiched between two notebooks. My cheeks were red from embarrassment for having something so special to me crumpled and carelessly thrown in my backpack.

Cairo takes it without making any comment on its sorry state and begins to read it.

"In the twilight of our intertwined destinies..." The brunette had a focused expression, her voice soft and enveloping.

I wait with trepidation, observing every nuance of her expressions

"she emerges like an elusive shadow, a siren of my lost dreams, with chestnut locks like the earth." Cairo sighs "Her eyes, deep as the abyss of the soul, reflect falling stars and unfathomable secrets, like dark water on a moonless night, where the lost traveler wanders." Cairo suddenly stops, lips still suspended on the sentence.

Her gaze drifts amidst the words as a wave of emotion envelops her voice.

I remain silent, captivated by her interpretation.

The brunette continues, her voice now softer, almost whispered. "Her smile, a fleeting glimpse of light, a glimmer of hope in the darkness, yet also an echo of sadness in the relentless passage of time, a memory of what could have been."

Cairo voice resonates with the melody of the words, conveying every nuance of emotion contained within the text.

I was completely captivated by her facial expressions.

"Yet, amid the folds of uncertain destiny, remains a lost innocence and an unspoken love, an incomplete harmony, an unexpressed desire, like a melody interrupted in the night wind."

"In her breath dance promises of another life, where perhaps our hearts will meet, in the stillness of a world without end, where time is not the master of our destinies."

Cairo tightens the grip on the paper.

"But for now we part ways, like the waves leaving the shore, destined to wander alone in the depths of time. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my being, her essence remains engraved like an ancient melody."

As she reads those words, Cairo's tone of voice becomes soft and melancholic, conveying a sense of nostalgia and sadness. Her words are filled with emotion, with a slight tremor in her voice reflecting the depth of her feelings. Cairo seems to be carried away by the intensity of the text, and her reading is infused with an aura of melancholy and reflection.

"And so I venture into the night, with her memory as my guide, suspended between the pain of loss and the hope of return. In the silence of my soul, I continue to dream, hoping that one day our destinies will intertwine again."

After finishing the reading, Cairo remains silent for a moment, her gaze lost in deeper thoughts. I can sense her mind in turmoil, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Then, slowly, she lifts her gaze towards me, a spark of interest shining in her coffee-colored eyes.

"Who is the muse behind this extraordinary piece?" she asks, her voice warm and full of curiosity, while her expression reflects a sincere desire to understand the hidden meaning behind the words.

I knew perfectly well that I couldn't say it was her, so I just shrugged nonchalantly. "No one in particular," I add calmly, even though my heart was beating rapidly inside me.

"Yet it seems so specific," Cairo observes, glancing at the paper.

Her words make me uncomfortable, but I try to maintain composure. "It's just a product of my imagination," I say with a forced smile, hoping to divert attention away from myself.

"The only certainty is that she's a brown-haired girl with brown eyes," Cairo asserts with a mischievous smile, and a shiver runs down my spine. "The classic always attracts, it seems," she adds, chuckling softly.

Her observation makes me feel like butterflies are doing acrobatics in my stomach.

"Don't be stubborn now," I blurt out in embarrassment, trying to deflect attention from the imminent truth that Cairo is about to uncover with her acute intelligence.

Cairo bursts into laughter, a sound so genuine and contagious that it makes me feel special. Her laughter fills the air around us, wiping away any traces of embarrassment and fear, and I find myself laughing along with her, feeling light and free.

Cairo stops laughing and smiles, a look of sincerity painted on her face.

"It seems you were good at freelancing after all," she observes with a light and friendly tone.

Her comment makes me feel appreciated and recognized for my abilities, and I smile in response. "Thank you," I reply with gratitude, feeling encouraged by her approval.

"I think Professor Miller will like it," Cairo continues, biting her lower lip, lost in her thoughts.

A strange sparkle lights up her eyes, and at that moment, I decide to ask her a question that has tormented me for too long.

"Cairo do you have a crush on Professor Miller?" I ask timidly, curious but also intimidated by the possible answer.

Cairo blushes deeply. "What on earth are you asking?" she responds sharply, clearly embarrassed.

"From the way you react to his mention..." I say with curiosity, "and also you're completely red," I add with a timid smile.

Cairo shakes her head firmly. "No, no," she responds promptly, "I admire Professor Miller, but I don't have a crush on him. He's old, and, above all, he's married." Her tone is decisive.

"Well, gray hair isn't very attractive, right?" I ask with a smile on my lips, while I observe Cairo nodding slightly, smiling broadly and showing her dimples.

Freckles surround her face as her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders.

Cairo looks up at the sky, which is turning orange at sunset, a sign that the day is coming to an end. "I think it's time to go," she says timidly, almost regretfully.

"Is the study session over already?" I say in surprise, pouting.

Cairo nods and smiles. "So, do you like literature now?" she winks, teasing me.

"Not exactly, but the lesson goes better with you," I reply, aware of what I'm saying and noticing the slight blush on Cairo's cheeks.

I realize what I've said afterward and feel terribly embarrassed. A wave of nervousness overwhelms me as I notice a hint of pink on Cairo's cheeks.

Oh darn, I want to die, I think dramatically.

Cairo looks away. "Well, see you tomorrow.""Ah, yes, of course! See you tomorrow," I reply, trying to hide my embarrassment behind a smile. I feel the heat rising in my face as the embarrassment grows inside me. "Thank you for today, it was... interesting," I quickly add, hoping to alleviate the strange tension that had arisen.

"Thanks to you," she says softly, her gaze warm and comforting.

With a smile on my lips, I watch Cairo walk away. Despite the day starting off badly, it ended in the best possible way.

[tomicscomics]

08/16/2024

Our deacon shared this anecdote last week at Mass. It's a little different each time I hear it, but the moral is always the same.

___

JOKE-OGRAPHY:

1. This cartoon is based on a widespread but often mutated anecdote. There are lots of versions, so I'm not sure what the original story is (share it in the comments if you know), but the two versions I heard recently go thuswise:

(1) An atheist goes up to a Christian and says, "If I believed what you say you believe about Judgment Day and the fate of those who reject Christ, I would crawl across the world on broken glass, begging every single person to repent."

(2) A Catholic and a Protestant walk together, but as they pass a Catholic church, the Catholic bows and makes the Sign of the Cross, as a sign of respect for the Eucharist inside. His Protestant friend says, "If I believed what you say you believe about the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, I would crawl to that altar on my hands and knees."

(Breakdown) In every version of the story I've heard, there are two characters: a faithful person and an accuser of some kind. The faithful is usually doing some small gesture of their faith, which the accuser sees as insufficient for the level of belief the faithful claims to have. I want to clarify that no one expects for evangelists to walk on broken glass forever to preach to everyone in the entire world, or for Catholics to crawl up and worship at every tabernacle they pass on a drive. We're human, so we need to find ways to manifest worship or evangelism while also going about our normal healthy lives with each other. Sometimes those ways are imperfect and small, and that's okay, as long as we're really trying. The accuser's point is hyperbolic, but nonetheless poignant.

(Moral) No matter which version of the story you hear, I think the question it poses remains the same: "Is our faith more than just talk?" It's easy to say we believe in God, but what does that belief do? It's a monumental claim, isn't it? Maybe the MOST monumental claim you could make. It seems like it should have a monumental impact on EVERYTHING we do, but instead, life just kind of moves along. How can we dare to claim that we actually believe? What does believing even mean, if it doesn't manifest itself in more than our words? Big questions from such a small story.

2. Our deacon recited the Eucharist-version of this story last week at Mass, and it made me want to illustrate it. I'm sorry this cartoon isn't gut-bustingly hilarious. Here, let me make it up to you with a fun joke. Knock knock.

[iwantscarlettandlizzie]

professors wandanat <3

@thehistoriccemetery thank you for the idea 🤍

[jurassicliz]

The T-Rex is apparently not the only thing that wants a Professor flavored treat.

[warandpeas]

Anything You Like

[floral-ashes]

This is verging on academic misconduct.

Bogardus & Byrne try to complain about my citational practices by asserting that the paper I cite doesn’t support the view that trans women are women… by omitting the part of the sentence where she makes the claim.

Compare their claim:

To the source:

[theatreslave]

Not even in a romantic sense but Severus and Hermione being professors together would be hilarious because as the two youngest of the professors they would end up being besties.

Snarky Snape being miffed that Granger shows up way more prepared to be a Professor than he was.

Hermione lowkey annoyed that Snape didn't warn her not to go to the weekly poker night that Sprout puts on.

Them sitting next to each other at the head table during sorting and whispering one word predictions to the sorting and communicating with eyes and eyebrows.

People thinking they hate each other because they are constantly bickering but both of them find it fun and invigorating when they have to deal with dunderheads all day.

Snape seeking out Hermione when weird women hit on him.

Hermione complaining to Severus about her attempts at dating and he's her very sarcastic voice of reason.

Competitive as hell about test score averages.

Competitive as hell about house points.

Snape finding out Hermione doesn't like quidditch because she hates flying and him holding it over her as the one thing she can never excel at.

Hermione finding out Snape's actual stance on bullies when he punishes slytherins for bullying a gryffindor.

Discreetly handing hangover potions to each other.

Dumping detentions they don't want to over see on the other.

Both of them having bad hair days.

[shitacademicswrite]