#professor!jensen

[iluvxsm]

me when

[rennerator]

MY, OH MY!!!! MY FRIEND, THIS IS SOOOO F* GORGEOUS!!!!! S2 AWWWWWW, LOOK AT HIM!!!!!! :D SO SO SOOOO GOOOD!!!! SO BEAUTIFUL!!!! SO HANDSOME!!!!! :) I LOVE HIM!!!!! I LOVE THIS SO SO MUCH!!!!! And, OF F* COURSE, I am ALREADY thinking here: "Is he friends with Jeremy?" XD "Do they teach at the same place?" SORRY, NOT SORRY!!!! AWWWW, This is SOOO F* MARVELOUS!!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE Thank YOU SO MUCH for this!!!!! You are AWESOME!!!!!!! <3

POV he’s about to ask you some serious questions

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

JT Tag List:

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones @rominaszh @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Moment of Doubt

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements, some sexiness in this.

Note: this is what yall asked for, remember that.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

Jensen’s fingertips send ripples radiating through you. His warmth surrounds you, swathing you in a soft heat, slowly building as your own hands explore his body. You hook your thumbs in the top of his jeans as you cradle him between your legs, writhing as his tongue delves into your mouth.

His right hand comes up behind your head, steadying you as he trails down your cheek and chin. He kisses your neck as you moan. You flutter up his back, feeling his bare skin as his chest presses flush to you. His nails dig into your side as he nips along your throat.

His embrace is intoxication, so much so that you forget every doubt you had. You know that you’re ready, that he’s the one. You want him so bad.

He parts, panting as you feel along his stomach, the muscles tensing. You puff thinly up at him as he hovers just above you. You feel his excitement against you.

“You sure, honey?” He breathes.

You want to say yes, you’re about to say yes, but you can’t. Honey. Why did he have to call you that? Why do you have to think of… him? The epithet has Professor Rogers’ voice echoing in your head.

You drag your hand up and push against his chest, nearly sobbing, “sorry, Jake, I… I need a moment,” you gasp out.

You feel his reluctance, a moment of hesitation, but he pushes off of you and sits up. He swings his legs down over the edge of your narrow bed. He rubs the hair across his chest, trailing up to scratch his jawline.

“I’m sorry,” you quiver, “I don’t… I… that was good, I’m just… nervous.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he drops his shoulders.

“Please, I just… I need to splash some water on my face, that’s all.”

“Sure,” he mutters.

You don’t blame him. You stand up and fix your bra, popping your tits back into the cups as you poke your arms through the straps. He huffs and a roiling guilt fills your veins.

You go to the sink in the corner, keeping your back to him as you crank on the faucet. You put your hands under the cold water and lean in. You hear a subtle buzz but ignore it as you close your eyes and throw the water across your face.

Another short vibration. Probably Inez or your mother. You turn off the tap and reach for the hand towel nearby. You sense movement as you turn around and Jake frowns as he pulls his gaze away from your phone, forgotten during your romp. It rests just against the bed frame and lights up.

Jake stands, not looking at you as he scoops his shirt off the floor.

“You know, I think I should go back to mine–”

“What? Aren’t you staying the night?”

He shakes his head and pulls on the tee, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. There’s no room.”

“Huh? But–”

“I’m not a fucking idiot,” he sneers. You’ve never heard him like that, “read up on your messages, maybe that guy can give you what you want.”

“What?” You rush over to him, “who— what guy?”

He rolls his eyes and nudges past you, snatching up your phone. He curls his lip as he reads the screen, ‘Thinking of you dresses as Mrs. Claus for Christmas. Have you been naughty or nice?’

You grimace and recoil, “who– I don’t know what that means, Jensen.”

“Sure,” he avoids your gaze as he turns the phone to you. You can tell he’s hurt, “I… I don’t wanna be your second choice. Give him a call, maybe he can get the chastity belt off–”

“Hey, Jen, that’s not–”

“Nice? No, neither is texting other guys.”

“I told you, I’m not–”

He turns the phone to him as the screen brightens. Another message. He swipes up, the lock already disabled by the short glimpse of your face in the lens. His cheek strains and he throws the phone away from him like fire.

“What the fuck!?” He explodes, startling you, “you have to be kidding me? Him?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re fucking professor? That fucking creep?”

“Please, Jensen, no–”

“He sent you a special Christmas gift, enjoy,” he shoves you out of the way and stomps by you, “I can’t fucking believe I thought you were really into me–”

“Jen, I am. I don’t know what he said but–”

“Fuck off,” he grabs his jacket, his bag, and his boots, “I don’t want to hear it. I should’ve known. The way you lost that TA thing so fast, how he was always where you are– what am I to you? A fucking joke? A game?”

“Not at all, I swear, he’s crazy. He won’t leave me alone but I told him too. I don’t– he’s been following me and I’m so scared, Jen–”

“I don’t believe a word,” he pulls open the door, “I’m tired of your lies. Empty promises. I should’ve known…” he stops and looks back at you, eyes glistening as he fixes his glasses, “I could never get a girl like you.”

He stalks off and you run after him, forgetting about your lack of shirt. You grab onto his arm as he gets to the front door and he shrugs you off. You try again and he elbows you away.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me,” he points in your face, “go get that pervert to do it. If he can even get it up.”

You wince and pull back. You clasp your hands together, your heart sinking. You want to tell him everything, make him hear the truth, but you don’t know if it’s worth it. The things he’s saying, the way he’s acting…that he would take Rogers’ word over yours.

“I never lied to you,” you croak, “so go. If you don’t want to listen, fucking go.”

You spin and storm away, clutching your chest with one hand as you flick away tears. You sniffle and stumble back into your room. The front door slams and you nearly keel over. 

How could everything have flipped so fast? You go to the bed and retrieve your phone from where it landed. You turn the screen up and nearly scream. There on the screen is a photo of Professor Rogers, naked, with only a corner of a bedsheet covering his pelvis. 

You blocked his number. How could he–

If Jensen had looked closer he would see that there was no conversation, that the contact was unknown. Those details fade to the edges of the messages and the photo. You almost can’t blame Jake for buying Professor Rogers’ lies; it seems to be his specialt

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

One Masterlist

Spiritual successor to Forbidden Lessons with Professor Steve ft. Jake Jensen

One is the Loneliest Number

One on One

One Little Thing

Only One I See

One Thing Leads To Another

One Message Waiting

One Day Closer to You

I’m the Only One

Plus One

Ticket for One

The Wrong One

Number One

One Small Change

One Step Too Far

One Side of the Story

Just One Look

One Way or Another

One Moment of Doubt

One False Move

One Second

[deans-fanboy]

Teachers Pet

Part two females part so I'll try and upload it tomorrow

Warnings!: Smut. Oral (F. Receiving), hair pulling (M. Receiving), Unprotected sex (Pullout method used), Age Gap!! Slightly submissive Dean (if you squint), inexperienced Reader

⏜⏜ㅤㅤ𝂅ㅤㅤ𐴲𐝃ㅤㅤ𝂅ㅤㅤ✶ㅤㅤ۫ㅤㅤ𑂳

Next Day

Y/n arrived in an outfit they thought was comfortable, Dean saw it as tantalizing, when in reality it wasn’t. The collarbone still peaked through the collar, the way their sleeves hugged their arms, perfectly outlining the curve of their back. Dean couldn’t get enough. Dean told the class He’d be sitting at his desk for most of the period since his back was hurting. It wasn’t. He just didn’t need the class to know he was hard during a lesson. So he just sat at the desk, teaching off of a slideshow like most, rather than the old school chalkboard hung up on the wall. Dean struggled to keep his eyes off of his student assistant of the day. Why'd they have to be so… attractive?

“Okay class, Y/n will be passing out your worksheets. First to finish gets the rest of the period for free time. All of it has to be correct in order for you to get it.” Dean spoke to the class from his desk as he handed Y/n the papers he had printed out. Y/n passed them out, a few lingering glances from other students causing Dean’s blood to boil. He didn’t know why, but they were his to look at, no one else's. Dean’s jaw flexed and then he cleared his throat, Y/n passing him the extra papers and gave him a soft smile. Dean returned it with one slightly forced from his former jealous feeling. Y/n’s brow knit in confusion but sat down at one of the unoccupied desks in the front of the class and began to work on the homework from other classes. Dean’s eyes lingered on the way their hair fell in front of their face-, “Sir i finished the worksheet” a student spoke as they stood in front of his view of y/n, taking the sheet of paper and looked over it quickly, annoyed that he couldn’t see them. “Jack is the first one to finish, his answers are all right, he gets to spend the rest of the period doing as he pleases. Just don't bother the class. Got it?” Dean spoke with that one bitch face he's had since he was a kid.

The bell for class rang once it was over. It was lunch and Y/n was getting ready to leave when Dean’s arm grabbed their elbow softly, “Y/n, I need to speak with you.” He spoke with a slight concealed desire in his eyes. Their eyes knit together, slightly confused but nodded, “Alright, Sir.” They spoke softly as they sat in front of his desk, folding their hands together over their lap. Dean's eyes trailed down to their thighs, imagining how it would feel for his hands to be gripping them as they were on top of him, whimpering, begging for more. Dean snapped out of it and glanced back at their face. “I need to talk to you before you leave for lunch, and don’t worry. Doors locked.” Dean said with a boyish smirk. He scooted his chair back, his hands intertwined together over the tent in his pants. “Sit up on the desk, pretty thing?” Dean said with a gesture to his desk. Their reaction? Priceless. The widened eyes and flushed cheeks, parted lips Dean wanted to kiss so badly, but they slowly nodded, standing up, walked around the desk and sat up on the desk, pressing their thighs together. “Baby, don't be shy. I don't bite too hard.” Dean smirked, pulling his chair closer to the desk, resting his hands on the sides of their knees, caressing it like he was rubbing sore skin. “O-Okay, Professor.” They spoke with a soft stutter, hesitating before letting their legs part. “Good baby, Aren’t you?” Dean said slightly breathless as he softly and slowly kissed each of his students' knees, keeping eye contact. They slightly whimpered. They were 20 and still hadn’t slept around, still so innocent. An innocent little doll that was his for the taking? Their hands landed on his shoulders, gasping softly as his hands slowly slid up their sides, “shh, baby. Got to be quiet f’me” Dean muttered as he sat up. Resting his head in the crook of their neck as his hands slowly slid up their shirt, caressing what he could under their shirt-

Girl part:

His hands slid up to their breasts caressing the curves of the muscle, sliding around to their back, unclipping their bra and letting his hands touch the warm skin, smirking at the shiver that went through their spine, “Feel good, baby?”, they nodded, arching their back to push their breasts into his hands, his thumb rubbing circles against their nipples, causing it to harden. He chuckled, “So innocent, never been touched like you deserve.” Dean spoke teasingly as he slowly slid the shirt off of them, letting it fall to the floor, taking their nipple into his mouth, tongue softly sucking on it, his other hand toying with the opposite breast, pinching and caressing it with his thumb and fore finger. Y/n whined as their hands went to his hair, tugging at the roots, “S-sir!” they yelped when he bit their nipple, Dean pulled away looking up at them while his hands softly caressed their breasts. “Yes, baby?” Dean spoke with a soft tone.

“Need you, please?” They whined. Dean hummed softly, slowly his hands slid down from their breasts down to the waistband of their bottoms, slowly dipping his fingers in, only to about 3 inches, teasing the skin, causing them to whine. “Sir..” They huffed softly. Dean undid their bottoms, sliding them off, along with their underwear. Fingers softly sliding over their heat, collecting the arousal on his middle and ring finger, pulling away to lick his fingers clean, groaning at the way it tasted, sour. Not sweet like other girls. Dean slowly slid down onto his knees. Their eyes widened, “W-What are you doing?” They asked, stunned by what he was doing. “Giving you everything you’ve missed out on, my dear.” Dean said softly as he kissed up their thigh, softly kissing their clit, gasping a quick intake of air from their mouth. Licking a long stripe down their folds, groaning softly as the taste grew even more addicting when it was seemingly fresh. Dean nudged his nose against their clit as he slowly began to slide his tongue into their entrance. They moaned, gripping his hair, closing their thighs around his head. Dean's hands reached up, gripping their thighs, pulling them apart so he wouldn't suffocate, not yet and not now. Later.

Deans slurps slowly filled the room, he felt their walls enclose on his tongue, knowing they’d soon enough, deans tongue slid out of their entrance, paying more attention to their clit as he circled it with his tongue, nipping at it softly, causing a yelp and another tug on his hair as he kept devouring them with his mouth. Their legs began to shake, Dean’s nails dug into their thighs. “So fucking good baby” Dean said, parting his lips from the delicous nectar that is Y/n’s. Dean was absolutely pussy drunk, but he needed to feel them around his cock. He leaned up and softly kissed them. They moaned into the kiss, tasing themself on his tongue, their hands still in his hair, dean parted and licked his lips of any of their juices leftover, slowly unbuckling his jeans. Their attention immediately brought down to his jeans, watching as he pulled his cock out, their eyes widening, “Thats, How is that gonna fit?” They spoke softly. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll be gentle.” Dean said softly and began to slowly stroke his cock, stepping forward and collecting their juices on his tip, looking at them as he slowly pushed in, groaning at how tight they were, but noticed them slowly loosening. “You okay baby doll?” Dean spoke softly, letting them adjust to the stretch as he looked at them.

“N’yeah.” they mewled as their hands went behind his back, urging him closer, “You can move now.” They spoke softly. Dean obeyed, slowly moving himself deeper, then began to slowly and softly thrust into them. Grunting softly as he tried to keep up the strong top facade, but let out a soft whimper as he moved inside of them. “Faster, fuck, Sir.” They whined as they scratched at his back, leaving red marks behind. Dean obeyed, moving faster, softly whimpering again, “Fuck, your just, so tight, babydoll.” Dean grunted as he suddenly bucked, causing them both to moan. “Dean, right there, harder, faster, please, fuck” They moaned as their eyes shut tightly. Dean went like how they asked, whimpering as he felt himself twitch inside them, he was close. He felt them clench around his cock, dean almost came right then, but he kept holding back. Their moans turned into whines as they finally went over the edge and orgasmed, Dean helping them chase it before pulling out and coming on their leg.

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

professor jensen but this was the first thing i thought of making for it

[cleowho]

“Who is he, anyway?”

Remembrance of the Daleks - season 25 - 1988

[lacrimalis]

hey internet, how do you draw this type of guy?

[overthinkingtaleblr]

I woudl love to know more about how your headcanons for the cree.pypasta school and its attendants.

o7 Can do for ya, Anon!

So, first and foremost, I've made it so the school is a college/community college now! I'm not sure which would work better, I just know that I'm calling it Black Lake, after a different in-universe high school (Well... they might already be the same, but the wiki sometimes treats them like two separate entities). This also means I'm fusing any non-contradicting traits about the schools as well.

"What makes it a school for Cree.pypastas if you're reworking what the Cree.pypastas even are?" Is probably the most important question in this situation. The school, as it stands now, is easily misconstrued as the "Supernatural School", but it really isn't. This school is one that is practically built upon the foundations of what this city (i still don't have a good name to replace littlebutts ^^;) embodies between the craziness and the supernatural. A human could go here if they felt that they wouldn't survive a day in a normal school, and someone considered "odd" can work their way into a school meant for "normal" people. This school is not for people who the World says is too weird to leave LB, NC-- its for people who love the city for what it is and chooses not to leave. It's merely a coincidence that so much of the student body is paranormal.

It's not the only educational facility in the area, which makes it funny that Ghost is an alumni. For my current lore, there also has to be (within reasonable distance):

A high school intended for normal people that Spencer attends currently.

A college intended for normal people that Billy and Maddie attend and are learning medicine at.

A high school surrogate intended for the paranormal that the Jennys attend. It's likely closely associated with Black Lake, if not a direct subsidiary.

"Fountain High School", a school that acts as a front for Darth Calculus. Maddie, Slendy, and Chakalata are all graduates from this program.

All of this was to explain where people may be getting their education from, why, and what the differences between the schools are on a fundamental level. <3

That's the actual school aside! It's incredibly well-funded and receives some attention from Darth Calculus on occasion. I'm going to go on about the teachers and students who I actually have ideas for under the cut, but I don't want to take up more space than I already have!

Staff and Faculty of Note

Note: Some of the faculty are pulled from random videos or my own brain because there is not much on the wiki about the Cree.pypasta school.

Bill H. Buckley ("lovingly" called Buttkicker by some students) - School's Chancellor

Not himself a paranormal entity, but actually a descendant of multiple survivors of big-name supernatural incidents.

Consider him to be descended from several quasi-failed Van Hellsings who actually learned to Somewhat mellow out and is taking a different directive at keeping people from getting murdered by the supernatural.

The H stands for Hellsing (joke)

Outside of his familial experience, Buckley has experience with the American military (he's a retired veteran) and studied School Psychology for his degree.

He came to head the school with the intention of ensuring that the occupants of the school go down as little of a harmful path as possible, hoping to save the rest of the world from heartache.

Because of his goals overlapping with some of the original PIE team's, he frequently invited T.Casket and some of his crew to give talks and lead panels. This did Not make him go any easier on Johnny Ghost (jr) while he was enrolled.

Margaret J. Java-Beane - Director of Staff Operations

Basically the person who ensures everything is running according to plan on the campus. Her job focuses on the functionality of the staff, but she likes to be involved with the students as well and frequently leads campus tours and meets newcomers.

Margaret is a former graduate of the school herself, which is part of the reason why she cares so much about its functionality.

She majored in education and minored in political science.

Considering all the serial killers in Cree.pypastas, I do think that they technically get their own category for attendees. Upon looking up to see if there are any Margarets in Cree.pypasta, I found like 4 different ones who were all associated with JTK.

All of that is to say, Margaret may have some literal skeletons in her closet.

Her surname is hyphenated because she is happily married and prefers to be addressed as Mrs.

If the Murder games that appear in some videos were real and was a game similar to Airsoft, Margaret would have a seasonal pass to the local arena.

Any time she crosses paths with one of the students under her care at one of these Murder Games, she does find it funny to target them.

Professor Sviggles - Professor of Biochemistry with a Bachelors in Cryptozoology.

He's heading multiple studies with several groups under his wing and is taking part in twice as many. He is exhausted all the time.

Sometimes he has to go out of his way to make sure his class is accessible, as he both has a German accent and a lisp. He works very closely with the disability department and is very particular that TAs assigned to him can follow his words so that no one is left behind.

Some of his on-campus research includes running tests on (consenting) students. This is to further his own understanding of the supernatural as a human, and to further the scientific understanding of the supernatural.

Due to his initial inexperience, he does believe at first that every student has to be visibly supernatural, but learns some who look like normal humans are in fact much more dangerous and vice-versa.

His schedule is emptier than most other teachers so he sometimes teaches Math 101.

He goes out of his way to take on as many odd and disturbing students as possible, both wanting to connect with them and research them.

He is easily exhausted and easily overwhelmed, so his classes are incredibly low-involvement and tend to be mostly lectures until he knows what he can handle from his class.

Doctor Chun - Doctor of Automotive Engineering and Chemical Engineering

Spends half the year in Nevada working with the American government at Area 51, and the other half of the year teaching at Black Lake.

In spite of himself, he's seen the students act far too careless to be trusting of them alone with the dangerous materials in his lab... Which ends up making them want to get through his defenses and break into his lab.

His passion includes studying cars that are clearly haunted and cars that have been messed with by the paranormal. He feels like that field of investigations is incredibly overlooked and he wants to know how much a ghost affects a car and in what way.

While he did not attend Black Lake for his first degree, he is considered to be paranormal and much preferred his experience with the school than his first attempt at college education.

He hasn't gotten a grant for that research yet, though, so he's biding his time for now.

Worked with Sally on her senior project in her last year of high school... partially because of her reputation as an Acachalla. Largely because of her reputation as an Acachalla.

Sam Maloney - Local Substitute

A graduate of Fountain High School, Sam frequently oscillates between the schools in the district, but spends the most time at Darth Calculus's. Because of this, faculty who are aware of how dangerous DC can be tend to be less trusting of him, and he has been blacklisted from teaching a few classes. He tries not to let it get to him.

He teaches well when it comes to just about any space-based subject and gets along incredibly well with extraterrestrial students.

He actually does have a Bachelors in culinary, which somehow makes him qualified to teach multiple chemistry classes. It boggles the mind of most students he teaches for, but no one can argue with his capability of teaching the lesson plan.

Sometimes, if he has to teach a class that he knows will be responsive, he'll bring his children - Canopus and Polaris- to class with him and basically has the class play "are you smarter than a fifth grader" against his children. They win sometimes.

Johnny Ghost - Teacher's Assistant

Both while he was a student at the college and after he made a name for himself at PIE, Ghost has worked as a teacher assistant at the school. I don't know who he worked for, but Ghost's dyslexia means it can't be Sviggles.

He barely remembers his time at the school aside from the classes, Casket was incredibly present during that period of time because he was in a space that allowed him to thrive (oops). As far as Ghost is aware, his college routine was eat, sleep, study, repeat.

He majored in Paranormal Investigation and is frequently called in to guest lecture for that course about the difference between paranormal investigation and ghost hunting.

He WILL lie to the students if they bother him too much.

- - -

Students

Bennett Hudson - Computer Science Major with a Paranormal Science Minor

Based on a once-occurring character, but mostly a classic pasta (Ben Drowned). His name is mostly set in stone, but that isn't the same for everyone.

He's a ghost (drowned :/)! He's taking extra classes to better understand himself as a spirit and hopefully gain back some of the freedoms he lost in death. He can't handle water.

He doesn't fully know what he's capable of, but he's excited to learn as much as possible. He especially likes messing with video games and watching how much he can change about them with his presence alone.

Not just that, he likes to create his own music by making 8-bit remixes of the old games he likes to play.

There was a time when he was vengeful towards whatever killed him, but he doesn't even remember what it was, so he's channeling the anger and pain into something productive.

He thinks Astronomy is stupid and thinks people who believe that the stars are telling them what to do is stupid. He's kind of mean about it, too, but in a trickster kind of way.

That is to say he DOES lie about his zodiac sign to watch people go like "Oh, that makes sense!" and then start telling him why he's the perfect libra or something (he's not a libra)

Jasper Cartwright - Civil Engineering Major

Based on a once-occurring character, but mostly a "classic" pasta (Herobrine). Apparently, Jasper means bringer of treasure, and Cartwright means crafts person... minecraft.

Jasper is legally blind, so for his own convenience he wears shaded glasses and walks with a white cane. Only, his glasses are a milky white instead of black.

He can still see a little bit, but mostly just shapes and colors, and they can be distracting.

There is something supernatural about him, but it's hard to put down and no two people agree on it, so he's stopped trying.

Much preferring wet weather without rain, Jasper likes it most when it's dull and foggy outside.

The man is an absolute candle addict, which is not a good thing to mix with being blind. His roommate insisted he have a spot dedicated to candles to prevent him from accidentally torching his dorm.

He's friendly with his siblings, but has completely dropped contact with his parents after a rough and exhausting childhood.

While he doesn't do anything with IT professionally, Jasper likes to code computer viruses in his spare time. He thinks it's funny when his friends fall for them and infect their own computers.

It's all fun and games until he turns in the wrong file and screws up his teacher's computer...

His older brother likes growing plants, and he's a plant-killer. It's painful, and Jasper has been banned from house-sitting.

Jeff Boredon - Veterinary Science Major

Based on a reoccurring character AND a classic pasta (Jeff the Killer). His name might change for a further degree of separation, but his surname is staying.

He has a twin who decided to skip school and just enter the industry, and a younger brother who's still undecided about what he wants to do with his life.

The Boredon family is Filipino, but Jeff was raised in America and doesn't know much Tagalog.

There are long-healed burn scars on multiple places on his body, including his face, hands, and body. He gives a different answer any time someone asks him about them.

He has autism-- he tends to stim by standing/sitting in weird positions, and his knife is a comfort item.

Jimmy Casket once threatened him, so he tends to be kind of unhappy when people say that he reminds them of how the news reports on Jimmy Casket.

Heads an on-campus club of people who chose this campus because they're drawn toward murder, whether that be the game or... yeah.

Lily-Friend - Moral Philosophy Major

Based solely on a reoccurring character from the videos, and her name hasn't been changed at all.

She is a robot, one made to look as human as possible and she succeeds in that sense... but she always feels that there's a fundamental difference between herself and "normal" people. And it exhausts her.

Lily gave herself the surname of Kim from her creator, but she technically doesn't have one for herself.

She works multiple jobs between classes, because she thinks that as a robot, she doesn't need rest. She doesn't realize that her focus being so split is screwing up her grades.

Meeting at work and becoming close friends, Lily sometimes hangs out with Billy Acachalla. She doesn't want to put too much pressure onto him, but she feels like after they connected the whole world kind of just opened up to her.

Sometimes she goes haywire, and when she does she's a tad dangerous. Defensive programs running amuck... People have been injured and jobs have been lost.

Some of her teachers have noticed that she's not taking the best care of herself, but that mostly comes from the ones who think that she's a normal human who's going to get torn to shreds by the end of the year.

Mohan Sommers - Management Major with a Minor in Environmental Science

Based on a reoccurring character AND a classic pasta (The Rake). Their name might change to give more of a connection to the original character, but his their first name comes from what the wiki claims one of their alternate names is.

A Ghoul, the kind of living dead that eat flesh but aren't necessarily zombies, similar to my version of Jenny Ghost. Part of why he loves the hectic nature of LB, NC is that people continuously die without consequence, and it allows him to eat whatever he wants.

Actually went to the school at the same time as Johnny Ghost, and is now married to Sally Betty Jessica with a child of their own... Though ghouls can't have kids, so they had to go to a donor.

He doesn't know why his child is a dragon, he has no idea where that came from, but he will be accepting all the same.

He's much closer with Johnny Toast than he is Ghost, and Ghost doesn't know if he should be annoyed or not.

He spent most of college working at a frozen yogurt place, and his friends would constantly try to bribe him to give them free samples.

Sometimes, he goes out hunting. With his bare hands. Dead things aren't always satiating enough. It's why he chose his Minor.

Slendy - Nursing Major

Based on a reoccurring character AND a classic pasta (Slenderman). I haven't had any good ideas to change his name yet, and I like to think it's a nickname Sally gave him.

He's a monster of some kind, there's a gaping hole to the void where his face should be. His father figure has him convinced this makes him unable to fit into normal society, but Sally might convince him otherwise.

He wants to feel like he's able to help people, which is why he took on the nursing major.

Also heads an on-campus club similar to Jeff. While Jeff takes in the killers, Slendy takes in the black sheep.

Not much else to say! He's sally's boyfriend, he's dedicated and loving, and he wants to see the world become a better place.

There are a couple more students who I know are at the school, but I've been working on this for the past six hours and I think I'm done for now haha...

I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE HOPING FOR ^^'

[runbookzombie]

Zombies Run S3M47 Comfortably Numb

I did this run on Oct 7th and enjoyed running on my own. It was a nice day. Don’t really have much to say other than that.

Spoilers after the image below:

This is an AI-generated image of two people, in a hospital, wearing orange hospital gowns.

That was the trippiest run ever, even more than the sanitarium mission. At first, I was happy to see Archie, Sara, and Sam again. There was a point where I was really hoping this world was real. But it was too good to be true.

I wonder what Van Ark meant about me snapping on the train or tube. Was there a mission that I missed?

Naked limbo dancing, though. Interesting.

Come on, Simon. I may not like you much, but thanks for the help.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

You guys.

It's professor Jake having to give a lecture on zoom.

Oblivious to the fact that the class is sitting there swooning and the poor TA has to deal with it.

US Weekly (August 2024)

Link

[zepskies]

✍🏽 Writing Update

I know I just released "Get Stuffed" on Tuesday and a new Smoke Eater chapter dropped yesterday, but I've got a packed drafts folder and wanted to let you guys know...

New Smallville fic coming soon!

It's a sequel to "Assistant Hottie"...

👀 Sneak Peek:

Miss Professor

(Jason Teague x F. Reader; Jason Teague x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

Snippet:

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

Coming Soon! 😘

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One False Move

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements, some sexiness in this.

Note: this is what yall asked for, remember that.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

Jake ignores every text and every call. When you pull up his Insta, you find yourself blocked. The last revelation crushes you, sending you into a tailspin and your bed. You burrow under the comforter and cry yourself to a restless sleep.

When you wake up, the sun is still down. It's not even four in the morning. You've never felt like this. So hollow and heavy at once. You drag yourself out of bed and make yourself drink a cup of instant coffee that makes your stomach rot.

You sit at the kitchen table in your empty dorm and hold your head. It's all a mistake, just lies. Professor Rogers knew what he was doing and it worked so well. Why didn't Jensen believe you? He knows better, he should've listened.

Your despair turns to anger and frustration. You don't know why you wasted your time. You get up and rinse out your mug before shuffling back to bed. Well, at least you have groceries for the break. You can make what you bought last a while. You're going to have to.

You lay down and try to fall back asleep. You drift in and out but feel worse as the window pales to a dim grey. The winter morning chills you and keeps you nestled under the blankets. It's only the urgent need that draws you out to the bathroom.

You're more away as you return to your room and grab your phone, stomach wobbly with anxious hope. No replies from Jensen, but a message from a private number.

'He's not worth it.'

You know who it is. He can hide his number but you know he's taunting you. What does he want? He's already ruined everything.

You ignore him and put your phone down. You think of putting a video on your laptop but that just makes you miss Jake even more. He should be here waking up with you. Last night should've been the best night of your life.

Maybe...

You get dressed before you let the thought break through clearly. It's desperate and stupid but you're not going to give up. You zip up your coat and shove your feet into your boots, pulling a toque onto your head. You grab your keys and phone and leave your lonely dorm behind.

The pavement is trimmed with frost and in some places, patches of ice crack under your treads. You keep your hands in your pockets as you chatter, walking with purpose along the curving paths. You stop in front of Jensen's building and look up. He's not going to answer your messages and you can't get in on your own, so you'll have to get creative.

You grab a pebble and count the windows. You're pretty sure it's that one. You huck the stone and it pings off the frame. From your side, it sounds pretty loud. You wait, nothing. You do it again. Several times before the window above opens.

Shit, you were close.

Jensen pokes his head out and lets out a huff that clouds in front of him, "go away--"

"Jake, please, just listen. You know I wouldn't... I wouldn't do that. Not with him."

"Pfft, come on, I'm not an idiot."

"Ugh, what did I ever do to make you believe I would--"

"I don't know. Late office meetings, sending me texts about staying late then calling it off, sounds like cold feet to me."

You lean your head back and whine, "he did that, okay? He took my phone--"

"Convenient story."

"Jake!" You holler, "why can't you see I'm telling the truth? I... you were going to be my first."

He just stares, quiet. You feel yourself wilt. He shakes his head and pulls back, disappearing behind the frame and slamming the pane down. There's your answer.

You turn slowly on your heel. Your eyes well and you quickly flick away your tears. Happy Holidays, indeed.

📚

You're in no rush to get back to your dorm, even with cold nipping at your cheeks. You don't care. You have nothing to look forward too. You waited weeks for your break, to spend time with your boyfriend alone, and now you have nothing.

Typical. Just your luck. Even the wafting aromas of the cafe can't tempt you in as you pass. You carry on, keeping your head down outside the English building, and tramp along in a glum fog. Your feet carry you without a thought, the path etched into your mind and muscles. You look up at the familiar brick facade and fish out your keys.

It's frighteningly still and quiet outside. Most of campus is home and happy, but here you are. You pull out the keyring and scan your fob on the censor. The door beeps and you open it, puttering inside reluctantly.

Suddenly you feel the door open wider and you're shoved forward. You trip as someone skirts in behind you and pulls the heavy barrier shut with a clang. You throw your arms out and steady yourself, turning to face the unceremonious intruder.

"Hey, sweetheart, what's got you down?" Steve asks as he stands tall, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

"What the hell? Get out? What are you doing--"

"Shhhh," he puts his finger to his lips, "listen."

You blink and hush, listening to the empty hall. What? It's quiet. There's... no one there. The epiphany strains your face as he smirks.

"That's right, sweetie, just you and me," he takes a step closer and you back up. "Sounds like a merry Christmas to me."

"No..." you exhale as you retreat along with his advance, "get away--"

"You can't spend the holidays alone," he says with dripping sympathy, "what kind of man-- boy would abandon you like that?"

"Stop," you hold a hand up, "Steve, you're scaring me."

"Well, baby," his cheek dimples, "you've hurt me so I think I get to return that favour."

He lunges and you stumble backwards, hitting the wall and rolling out of his way. You turn and race down the hallway, pumping your arms wildly. You surpass the elevator and yank open the door to the stairwell. You hear him behind you. He's close.

You grab the railing and swing yourself around, kicking over each step frantically as you struggle not to fall on your face. You're dizzy as you turn up the next flight and the next. Your lungs burn as you feel yourself slowing. You hear him, footsteps echoing up towards you.

You burst onto your floor and fumble with your keys desperately. You can't get a steady grip as you search for the key to your door. Finally, you slide it into the slot as the stairwell door clicks. You hurry inside but as you go to shut the door, it stops short of the frame.

You squeak as Steve gives the door a jolt and flings you back easily. You cry out as he enters and blocks you into the narrow hall that adjoins the rooms. You raise an arm, shielding yourself as your knees shake.

"Please, Steve," you beg as he shuts the door behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to say please, sweetie, I'll give you exactly what you need," he grabs your arm and pulls you close, "I told you, the minute you think you're alone, I'll be there."

[chlorinatedpopsicle]

A video of "human calculator" Shakuntala Devi solving complex mathematical equations within seconds.

In 1982, she was awarded the Guinness World Record for fastest human computation. She was assigned a multiplication problem with two random numbers of 13 digits each (7,686,369,774,870 × 2,465,099,745,779) and gave the correct answer (18,947,668,177,995,426,462,773,730) in 28 seconds.

She travelled to several countries for the purpose of having her talents studied. In 1988, her abilities were tested by Arthur Jenson, a professor at the University of California, Berkeley. Problems given to her included calculating the cube root of 61,629,875 and the seventh root of 170,859,375. Jensen reported that Devi came up with the solutions (395 and 15) before he could write them down in his notebook.

Before all that, in 1977, at Southern Methodist University, she gave the 23rd root of a 201-digit number in 50 seconds. Her answer (546,372,891) was confirmed by calculations done by the UNIVAC 1101 computer, for which a special program had to be written to perform such a large calculation. The computer took longer to solve the problem than Devi did.

Oh, also, in 1979, she wrote the earliest book about homosexuality in India.

(info stolen from Wikipedia)

[choicesmc]

@mydemonsdrivealimo | this gave me such strong Jensen vibes that I had to show you—