#teachers assistant

[thedungeonbat]

first day after fall break🍂

got my ap politics exam back and it’s marked with 80%, which makes it the best exam in the class. really happy about it, especially because I feared the worst!!

spent more time being a teachers assistant than being a student today, enjoyed it a lot! not only am I back on admin tasks for the library but I also helped with teaching a gym class.

had to retake my math notes digitally because I ran out of paper and (I’m still wondering how-) cracked my phone screen :(

[crushculture03]

Teachers Assistant

WARNINGS : this book will contain smut, swearing, age gap (21 and 34), angst, teacher student relationship.

Pairing: Professor!Matty x Fem student! reader

Notes : The teachers assistant imagines are my most popular and most requested so i thought it would be best to make it a series! hope you enjoy!

Summary : You’re a senior in college just hoping to get through the year with no hiccups , but the universe has others plans when you put in Professor Healys class. When you unexpectedly volunteer yourself to be his T.A. you find your relationship with him becoming more than professional…

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

[braveclementine]

Chapter 3

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

I only had one class today, which I was thankful for. The study of East Asian history with Professor Rogers, who I was hoping was the handsome blond man that Clementine had said taught her American History. 

Clementine had already headed out for one of her nursing classes and so I had the dorm to myself. I didn't stay in it long, however, deciding to go to the library and study there. It was definitely a placebo affect to feel like I was getting more done in the library than if I stayed in the dorm. 

When my timer went off as a ten minute warning for class, I scooped everything up and headed off for the classroom. 

I hurried through the hallway, turning the corner, slamming into someone. I lost my balance, falling backwards, before something hard wrapped around my waist. I felt a spinning sensation before my back hit something. 

I let out a small gasp, finding that I was pressed up against the wall, Professor Barnes in front of me. His arm around my waist where he had caught me, feet planted rather defensively. I couldn't remember how to breathe or speak, only staring at him until I realized my mouth was open. 

"Than-" 

"Watch where you're going." He interrupted me, shoving away from the wall, stalking down the hallway. 

I watched him go, feeling completely humiliated, before turning and continuing down to where my history class was. 

Professor Rogers was indeed the Professor my class, but after seeing Professor Barnes, my excitement was not high enough. 

"Miss Silvertongue." Professor Rogers greeted me immediately. He looked amazing in his light blue shirt he was wearing, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I could see behind him a group of girls muttering behind their hands as they watched him. "Good afternoon. Your seat is right here." 

He pointed to a seat at the front of the classroom, right in front of his desk. I was going to have a hard time concentrating this year. 

I quickly sat down where he had assigned my seat, while he quickly arranged the other students as they came in. As the bell rang, the last of the students filing in quickly, he closed the door behind him and smiled at the class. 

"Good Afternoon class. Firstly, I would like to make sure that you all know this is Survey of East Asian History class. So far, everyone seems to be in the right spot, but if anyone believes they are in the wrong class, let me know now." 

No one said a thing, though some girls behind me giggled. 

Professor Rogers grinned, "Alright then. Let's get started." He picked up a stack of papers from his desk and started to hand them out. "As you can see, this is the Syllabus of which I'll be teaching from this semester. You will have a small ten question quiz every week at the beginning of class, which will be timed for twenty minutes. And you will have on exam halfway through the year and an end of the year project." 

There were some groans in the class, but I felt rather light hearted at that. One exam was fine by me. Hopefully the project wouldn't be to hard. 

I surveyed the syllabus as mine was given to me. It seemed he had organized everything based on the country. Starting with Vietnam, then China, Japan, Korea, and so on. That might actually be quite nice. 

"So," Professor Rogers said with a grin, "What is East Asia? Anyone want to take a guess?" 

I hesitantly raised a hand and he nodded to me. "Well, I suppose a collection of different countries that are located on the East side of the continent of Asia?" 

His eyes seemed to twinkle at my answer and he let out a chuckle, "Well, in all technicalities, yes. The countries of East Asia include China, Japan, South and North Korea, Mongolia, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Macao, Vietnam, Singapore, The Philippines, Laos, Thailand, Indonesia, Cambodia, Myanmar also called Burma, Brunei, Timor-Leste, and Malaysia." He wrote each country out in clear cursive. 

I immediately copied down the list on one side of my composition notebook, labelling at the top 'East Asia'. 

"And, just so we can get a clear picture, the countries of West Asia are Iran, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Turkey, United Arab Emirates, Oman, Qatar, Jordan, Lebanon, Kuwait, Iraq, Georgia- no not the state-" That got some laughter from the class "-Yemen, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Cyprus, Israel, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt. You may notice that most of these countries are what we would also call the 'Middle East'. However, do not consider West Asian and the Middle East to be synonymous for each other, because they are not. They just share many countries. I would also like everyone to note that Palestine is not exactly a country of their own. It is a collection of people who live on the Gaza strip, given to them by Israel. Any questions so far?" 

On the other side of the class, an Asian girl shot her hand up. 

"Yes, Miss Sun?" Professor Rogers asked politely. 

"Professor, when you were listing the countries of East Asia, you separated both Hong Kong and the Republic of China from Mainland China. Why?" She asked. 

"I listed Hong Kong separately because of its' history as a British Colony." Professor Rogers replied, tapping the country name with his Expo marker. "It has been both a part of China, and also part of Britain and therefore, separated as it will be talked about separately from China. Taiwan on the other hand, is a separate country from China, though some people will say that it is still part of China, depending on who you talk to. We could also make an argument for Tibet being separate from China as well." 

When the girl did not look convinced, Professor Rogers added, "Would you consider Ukraine to be a part of Russia?" 

"Well, no, Ukraine broke away from Russia." The girl said. 

"I would say you can compare Taiwan to China the way you compare Ukraine to Russia." Professor Rogers said. I could tell that his tone was friendly, but there seemed to be a fierce protective note in his voice. It seemed he cared about the freedom of Taiwan very much. I could respect that. 

"Now, who can tell me, what is history really about?" Professor Rogers asked, looking around. "What makes history? Yes, Mr. Black?" 

"Battles, events, things that occur and we memorize the dates of them long enough for our exams and then forget again almost immediately after?" The boy answered with a cocky grin. Some of the girls in front of him giggled but I rolled my eyes, looking back down at my loose-leaf paper. 

"Partially." Professor Rogers said, not as amused though he wore a complacent smile. 

I raised my hand and was called on. "People, Professor? After all, the battles and events can't happen without people involved." 

"And that's the answer." Professor Rogers sounded pleased and I couldn't help but let the butterflies that had been caged up in my heart since my run in with Professor Barnes out. They fluttered in my stomach, making me shift in my seat as his blue eyes pierced my brown ones. I found that I wanted his praise more than anything in the world at that moment. "Perfect." 

I nearly fainted. 

From there, he had us get our textbooks out, following along. He did not read word for word the introduction - I was glad for this since I can't stand being read to- exploring the details more in depth. 

At the end of the lesson, he had another piece of paper for us, which was actually three pages, stapled together. 

"This is a glossary of words that will last the semester. They may or may not show up on tests so it's best to know what they are and their definitions or meanings." Professor Rogers said, handing the sheet out. 

My favorite part was that it was set up alphabetically. My OCD agreed with it a lot. 

"Class dismissed. I will see you all Thursday." Professor Rogers said, and the students started to stream out.

I quickly slipped the glossary terms into my East Asian History binder, placing the binger and textbook into my backpack, before noticing that Professor Rogers had stopped in front of my table. 

"Yes, Professor?" I asked, fighting back the instinct to swallow hard, nervous as I realized how close he was to me. I could smell his cologne, which wasn't overpowering, but comforting. I wished I knew how to describe it. 'Woodsy and homelike' seemed to cliche. 

"Well, I'd hate to be intrusive, but I was wondering if you were busy Saturday and Sunday mornings. Specifically between eight and eleven in the morning?" 

"Uh- n-no." I stuttered out my answer, head spinning with sudden questions. Most specifically, for what? 

He answered that quickly enough, "Every year I choose a student that I believe is competent to work for me. You'll be paid, of course, $15 an hour. It would be miscellaneous work. Helping me grade homework- not for this class but American or European history- etcetera." 

"Yes, I would love that." I answered easily, though a little astounded. 

There was a noise in the doorway and I jumped a little at the suddenness of it. It was Professor Barnes, leaning on the doorway, his dark eyes brooding. I immediately looked away, grabbing my backpack and trying to focus solely on Professor Rogers, "When would you like me to start?" 

"Next week. Here," He walked over to the desk, grabbing a small slip of paper that looked a bit like a business card, but not quite. "This is my work phone number and address. Saturdays will be spent here since I also have office hours that day. But Sundays will be spent at this address. I may change things up which is why you have my phone number so that after you contact me, I will be able to let you know if things change. Agreed?" 

"Sounds perfectly in order." I said easily, reaching out and taking the card from him. I slipped it into the safety of my purse, before sliding it into my backpack. "Thank you for the opportunity Professor." 

"Of course." Professor Rogers smiled and looked over at Professor Barnes, "What's up Buck?" 

Professor Barnes rolled his eyes, something that I noticed made Professor Rogers smirk. I quickly stepped to the side as Professor Barnes decided to move at the same time I went through the door, moving past me without another word. Professor Rogers gave him a look that seemed to be slightly exasperated before he said, "Have a nice day Miss Silvertongue." 

"You too Professo- Professors." I quickly said over my shoulder, before leaving the room. I sped down the hallway, excited to get back to the dorm. . . and away from Professor Barnes. 

ꨄ︎

"Hey." Clementine greeted me the moment I stepped inside the dorm room. "The grocery store down the street that you applied to called the dorm phone today and left a message. You got hired. Tuesdays and Thursdays from- well you know what, here." She tapped a piece of paper that was sitting on the table. 

She had written out the entire phone message in neat cursive and I smiled fondly at her. "You're the best Clem." 

"I know, now make sure to bring me home free food from work." She said with a smirk, before turning back to the American history textbook she was pouring over, making side notes in the margins, comparing them to an assignment sheet. 

"Essay already for history?" I asked, surprised. 

"It's easy." Clementine shrugged. "It's more an opinion essay than anything else. We can take one event from American history and compare it to something else in the rest of the worlds' history that shows that history can repeat itself. Then what we think should be done to keep it from happening again." 

I couldn't think of a comparison off the top of my head, but then again my mind wasn't on American history to begin with. I was thinking of the way Professor Rogers fingers had brushed the tips of mine as he gave me the card. And also, surprisingly, of Professor Barnes brooding stare. 

I was sure the darker Professor hated me, but there was something about his dark persona that was drawing me in. I wonder if he did it on purpose, to prove that Psychology really did work. His dark mysterious personality drew curious people in. 

I rolled my eyes, trying to push both Professors out of my head. They were like thirty something and I was twenty-two. 

"Well, I'm going to have two jobs." I said, unable to keep the happiness out of my voice. Clementine looked up with interest. "Professor Rogers hired me as a. . . assistant of sorts? A teacher aide? I'm not sure. Basically to help grade other peoples' stuff in other classes. So maybe I'll get to grade your homework." 

"Well, don't go easy on me." Clementine said, getting up from the table, going over and grabbing an orange. I watched her peel it and then started to make homemade orange juice. "By the way, I was thinking this weekend we could go to a few of the orchards, pick our own fruit? It'll be a bit of a drive, but this'll be the one weekend we won't be slammed with homework and you and I both know apples will keep for a while if we put them in the fridge." 

I smiled, nodding, "Great idea." Then I left her with her history homework and I went off to call the grocery store, telling them that I would be there first shift on Thursday. 

[hamsternamedmarinette]

Don't ask how it got into his room

[dashingwishes]

What do you do for a living? What is your job?

[wiidoodles]

Assistant Daycare teacher Wolfwood my beloved

[viktormaru]

A Roronoa Zoro study I did during the Painting Fundamentals class by Mike Azevedo! Inspired by Suke's style

[spookberry]

One of the funniest/dumbest literal thinking autism moments of my childhood happened when I was in 2nd grade. I was going to a new school so I was made to do a bunch of assessments to see where I placed in different subjects. I was most excited for the reading one cuz at my old school I was the best reader in my class, and I wanted to show off.

The lady testing me hands me this little short story and asks me to read it aloud.

And for some reason that I still don't understand to this day, a bunch of the words randomly had like lines or dots above the vowels. Which idk seems like an unnecessary and confusing thing to include when testing a 7 year old. Like you're gaslighting them into thinking theres extra letters in the alphabet. So obvi I ask what the symbols mean cuz I've never seen them in this context. She sorta brushes me off and says, word for word, "those mean you just say the letters name"

What she undoubtedly meant was: "on those words, the letter highlighted will sound like what its called. O with the line sounds O and not uh or ew or whatever"

What I understood was "Just Say the Letters Name"

So anyways i proceeded to read the story aloud, stopping suddenly every other word to pause cuz I wasnt supposed to say bow i was supposed to say o. I know for a fact at one point I just said a word and then stopped and repeated the sentence with just the letter so she HAD to've known I'd misunderstood her. But she said absolutely nothing. I remember walking outta there feeling like a complete idiot, and feeling so embarrassed when later they told my mom my reading skills were an entire grade behind where I should've been. But also looking back at it like wtf how could theyve possibly gotten an accurate understanding of my reading ability under those conditions.

[ironunderstands]

What's your opinion on people claiming aventio is teacher x student and that it's problematic because of ratio calling aven his student

Read a book please and if you are of voting age please refrain from participating in your elections because if your mental capacity is clearly lacking and I don’t want your poor decision making to impact others.

a) If you believe Aventio is genuinely student X teacher, HOW????

They are the same goddamn age, Ratio literally sees EVERYONE INCLUDING HIMSELF as a student, it’s not that serious to him and he’s not LITERALLY Aventurine’s teacher, he just wants to help him learn things and idk how that got twisted to being problematic. Also this would make every other Ratio ship problematic but I don’t see yall mentioning them ever hmmm. Ratio isn’t literally handing him out homework for fucks sake, he’s trying to help him, and if that’s somehow problematic then god help me. Moreover, their relationship isn’t strictly a professional one, sure they have jobs to get done but once that’s over they can spend time together and it’s fine because they are EQUALS and PARTNERS, the guild literally positions them as STRATEGIC PARTNERS because they are on the SAME PLAYING FIELD AAAAAAAA

and B) what makes student X teacher toxic in the first place is the power gap between both parties, but get this, AVENTIO’S IS REVERSED. Ratio literally holds no power over Aventurine, whether it be in age (they are in the same age range), intellect (Aventurine is extremely intelligent, just in a different manner), and in terms of both position and pure physical strength, Aventurine completely overpowers Ratio, yet I don’t see anyone trying to babyfy Ratio over this because nobody who has actually made this argument has thought about it, let alone the characters they are describing for more than 3 seconds

[braveclementine]

Chapter 5

Warnings: None.

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs: Elizabeth Silvertongue and Clementine Greenleaf. I also own Clementines' brother Donavan. The following OCs are owned by other Wattpad writers as this is a collaboration project. Their OCs are on the face claim page. I do not condone any copying of this.

I stared at myself uncertainly in the mirror. After telling Clementine my uncertainties on what to wear this morning, she'd taken me shopping and we'd put together an outfit. But now that it was all put together, I wondered if it was too revealing. 

My blouse was white with a black ribbon tied in the front. I had tucked it into the black miniskirt I was wearing, that landed midthigh and was very tight. I was wearing long black stockings that ended just under my skirt. I was also wearing black heels, which made my legs look longer than normal, considering I was five foot three. 

I had put my hair up into a bun again, a few stray whisps tickling my face. My makeup I had kept simple, covering the dark circles under my eyes, applying lipstick and blush dark to contrast the paleness of the shirt. 

I decided to stop overthinking it, quickly grabbing my messenger bag. I carefully filled it with my laptop, extra pens and pencils, along with my phone, a pair of earbuds, and a notebook that I always took with me anywhere I went. 

I checked myself one more time in the mirror. The messenger bag didn't really go with the secretary outfit I was wearing, but it was the best way to make sure I didn't lose anything. Maybe later when I actually had money, I would find a bag to match it. 

I stepped out of the bedroom, hurrying over to the kitchen. My stomach growled, wishing that I had the ability to make fresh oatmeal, which of course, was impossible without a stove. I supposed I could've used the microwave, but since it threw off radiation when used, neither Clementine nor I used it. 

"You look like a stripper." Clementine said without even looking up from her book as she laid on the sofa. 

"Good morning to you too bitch." I said, rolling my eyes, grabbing a banana, orange, and apple. I put the orange and apple in my bag, going over to the fridge and grabbing a glass milk jug and a water bottle. I slipped the water bottle into my bag as well. 

"Have fun, don't fuck your Professor you little slut." Clementine called sweetly over her shoulder. 

"You're just jealous." I shouted back, "Love ya." Then I closed the dorm door behind me, heading through the small hallway. This time, it was someone else running into me as I turned the corner. 

"Shit I'm sorry." A male voice called out and I looked up as I reached out to grab my milk jug. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, I'm good." I said, quickly bouncing up off the floor. I smiled awkwardly at the guy. "Uh, sorry." 

"Yeah, no, my fault." He said. He was okay looking. Sandy brown hair and blue eyes. His face was a little rounder, but he was charming enough. "Uh, I'm John. John Garrett. Well, the third John Garrett." 

"Elizabeth." I said softly and then said, "I'm going to be late so I'll see you around." 

Never. 

"Yeah, see ya." 

I took the elevator down and then hurried along the sidewalk until I got to the history wing of the College. I knocked on Professor Rogers' door and waited, still aware that I hadn't even eaten my banana and milk. I quickly unpeeled the banana and was just taking a bite when Professor Rogers opened the door. 

He stared down at me for a second, the fruit in my mouth, his eyes seeming to scan my entire body. I quickly bit off the piece, nearly swallowing it whole. "Sorry, I didn't eat breakfast." 

"N-No it's  fine Miss Silvertongue." Professor Rogers said. "Your outfit on-" 

"Oh, is it alright?" I asked hurriedly, hating that I'd interrupted him. "Professor Barnes advised me on what to wear." 

His confused look turned into a smile and he playfully rolled his eyes. "I see. Buck really helped you out?" 

"Well, he said that if I wanted to impress you I should dress professionally, like a secretary. I didn't really have anything, so Clem and I went shopping." I said, blushing a little. "I don't know if Professor Barnes would be impressed with the fact I told you he advised me though." 

"Well then, we won't tell him." Professor Rogers said and I nearly dropped my jaw when he winked at me. "Come in, finish your breakfast and then you can get started immediately." 

"Of course." I said, stepping into the office, noting that he closed the door behind him. "Um, Professor?" 

"Yes Miss Silvertongue?" He asked, standing at a longer desk in the back of his office, grabbing a stack of papers. 

"Do you mind if um. . . we leave the door open?" I asked, cheeks flushing red again. 

I wondered if he would take offense to my question, but he did not. Instead, he looked almost pleased with my answer and nodded, "Of course, my apologies." 

I smiled a little, opening the door and then walked over to where I was going to be working. 

"So," He said, putting the stack down on the desk, before fishing a separate piece of paper off his desk, handing it to me. It was a key to the pop quiz he'd given his Medival history class. "I'm sure you understand why you can't grade the American history sections?" 

"Because that's the class Clementine is taking?" I answered quickly, "And you think I could potentially give her answers and or correct her tests because she is my friend." 

"You catch on quick." Professor Rogers complimented and I felt his praise burrow into the depths of my heart. I could feel my cheeks blushing. 

I was soon sitting down, grading the papers. It was very easy since he had made everything multiple choice, but I could see how it might be overwhelming with the amount of tests that were here. Especially since this clearly wasn't his only class. 

Meanwhile, he sat at his desk, grading the American history class. I couldn't help but glance up every once in a while, seeing how delicious he looked. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off both his exposed forearms, and also just how big his biceps were under the tight shirt. 

His brow was furrowed in concentration, blue eyes staring ceaselessly at the paper. His hand made neat, quick marks as he graded the questions. 

It was actually good work. My OCD helped me enjoy it since it was a repetitive action. I lost track of time and even though Professor Rogers had originally said it would only be from eight to eleven, I ended up staying till two, never breaking focus. 

I was so lost in the work I was doing, that I didn't even hear him call my name or leave the room. It wasn't until I smelt something delicious and felt something next to my elbow, did I jump, and look up at him. 

"Here, I got you lunch." Professor Rogers grinned and I looked down to see a delicious bowl of fried rice with orange chicken on it. One of my favorite meals. "Wasn't sure what you liked, so I just got the most popular item." 

"No, this is amazing, thank you." I answered quickly, scooping some of the fried rice into my mouth, followed by a piece of chicken. I nearly moaned from how good it was. Clementine was going to kill me. 

I giggled at the thought and Professor Rogers looked at me curiously. "What?" 

"Nothing." I smiled, before finishing the bowl. 

"Here." Professor Rogers said, fishing out $90, handing it to me. 

"Oh!" I said in surprise, before handing him the $10 back. "That's for you buying me lunch." 

Professor Rogers shook his head, trying to press the $10 back into my hand. "The lunch has already been accounted for." 

"Are you sure?" I scrutinized. 

"Cute." Another voice said, making me jump back from Professor Rogers, only then realizing how close we'd been. I turned to see Professor Wilson standing there, a huge grin on his face. He winked at me before turning to Professor Rogers. "Stark wants to speak with the faculty." 

"Of course." Professor Rogers rolled his eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow Miss Silvertongue." 

"See you tomorrow Professor." I said, quickly scooping up my things. "Professor Wilson." I smiled and then headed out the door. I smiled as I slipped the money into my pocket. 

I got back into the apartment to see that Clementine had made us salads. I smiled, seeing her as she chopped up bits of salami and pepperoni and cheese, tossing them onto the beds of iceberg lettuce. 

"Organic?" I asked as I put my apple and orange back into the fridge since I didn't need to eat them anymore. 

"Nope, I got the box with the most sprayed pesticides on it that I could." Clementine jabbed, carrying the bowls over to the small eating area, rolling her eyes. "Of course its' organic." 

I chuckled, tossing the $90 onto the table. "We're getting closer." 

Clementine's teasing expression was immediately replaced with fondness, scooping the $90 off the table and murmured, "I'll go put it with the rest." She headed out of the room. 

We were combing our money so that we could move out after college. She didn't want to go home, and I didn't want her to be by herself. Besides, I wasn't looking forwards to going home either. 

I grew up in a normal family. Loving though fairly strict parents. Two annoying but loving brothers that lived with me, three other brothers that lived across the country and rarely saw. And of course, the seven rabbits. 

Clementine had also grown up with great parents. But her brother was a monster, disguised as an angel. Everyone loved him. Amazing grades, great athlete, polite, kind, charitable. He was even good looking at 6 foot six, dazzling green eyes, and thick chocolate brown hair. He had every girl at school lusting after him, but he said he wouldn't have sex with someone he wasn't serious about- which just made them all swoon again. 

Little did anyone know that he had his eyes on a different target- Clementine. 

Since he was older by five years, he had been able to groom her from a slightly younger age. He had never been able to successfully take her, but there had been near misses, ones that she didn't even understand. Until one day, she told me about it, saying she thought she  might be scared of her brother and told me. 

I was able to explain it to her a little bit, and then talked to my own parents about it, though not mentioning who it was. My parents had been concerned and told me what to advise my friend: Go to the police. 

So Clementine did. But it didn't work out. There was no proof and her parents were horrified that she had called the police on her own brother. They were afraid that it would ruin his chances at getting into college. 

So nothing happened. 

It wasn't that Clementines' parents were bad parents and they did love her immensely. After that, they did their best to keep their son and daughter separate. But my parents think that was just to keep Clementine from saying anything else. My parents would host sleepovers all the time so that Clementine could stay with us whenever she wanted. I knew they wanted to do more and I knew Clementines' own parents were curious, looking at their son a little differently. But without proof, nothing more could be done. 

He'd tried to get me under his wing, though I would never accept him. But that was why Clem and I needed to move out. We weren't going back. 

I watched as Clementine exited the dorm room, her eyes looking determined now. She sat down and we ate our salads, talking about the mundane things in life, enjoying the rest of the day together. 

ꨄ︎

The building that Professor Rogers wanted me to work at on Sundays turned out to be his house. It was a gorgeous two story house that was on the outskirts of the city. It looked like it had been made solely from wood, with a gorgeous design in the front. 

I was wearing a very similar outfit from yesterday and focused on not tripping over the stepping stones in my heels, before knocking on the door. 

Professor Rogers opened the door, smiling. "Glad to see you Miss Silvertongue. Please, come in." 

I stepped inside, looking around curiously. The inside was not exactly what I had expected from the house. The living room was extremely large, with an array of miscellaneous items placed around the room. 

There was a wooden staircase that led up to the second floor, with a TV pressed against the base of the stairs. The furniture in front of it was a lovely blue and black pattern, which matched the rest of the furniture. 

There were different sets of furniture settled around, along with lots of art portraits. The back wall was made almost completely of glass windows to see out into the surprisingly luscious backyard. I was surprised there were that many trees in New York. 

"We don't spend a lot of time in here." Professor Rogers said, walking up the stairs and I followed. "It's more for entertaining the other Professors if they're over." 

We? 

Well, it would make sense if he was married, actually. He looked like the type of man who would have a lovely house, wife, and children. I wondered what she looked like. I was imagining blond, green eyes, and bronze toned skin. 

"Anyways, I have my own office," Professor Rogers said as we walked past a set of double doors that were closed. He pointed to the door further down the hall. "And I have a side office that you can work in." 

A door to our left opened at that moment and I felt like the breath was knocked out of me as I saw Professor Barnes standing there. He was practically buck naked in only his boxers. I couldn't help it as my eyes scanned up his toned chest, his bulging muscles, and then his arm. 

His arm was a prosthetic made of metal in the colour of black with a gold lining lacing through it. I met his eyes, full of questions that I bit back when I saw how dark his blue eyes were. I could've sworn my undergarments were completely ruined now. 

"Morning Buck." Professor Rogers said with a smile. 

"Mornin'." Professor Barnes grumbled, shuffling past me, heading back the way Professor Rogers and I had come. 

"He's not much of a morning person." Professor Rogers chuckled. 

And then it hit me. 

"You two are together?" I asked curiously, while my heart sunk a little. Not that I would've had a chance even if he was straight anyways but still. 

"Uh, yeah." Professor Rogers said, blushing darkly. He glanced at me a little defensively. "We've loved each other for a long time." 

"That's nice." I said with a soft smile. I hesitated and then asked, "Was he. . . I mean his arm. . ." 

"Oh yeah." He opened the door to his office. "He lost it during an army tour. Fell off a cliff. It had to be amputated." 

"It looks beautiful." I commented under my voice. A little louder I said, "I'm sorry he had to go through that." 

Professor Rogers flashed me a smile. 

I looked around the office. It was a beautiful room, fashioned out of wood. A long bookcase covered one side of the wall before the stairs, filled with books lined up. Glancing at them, they seemed to be organized in a specific way, though I couldn't quite tell the pattern. 

The desk was oval shaped with two chairs in front of it, a nice leather chair behind it, the window opening up to show more of the backyard. A bird feeder hung outside the window, which a bluebird was eating from. 

There was a sitting area on the other side of the room, four chairs around a coffee table. A small circular disc sat in the middle of the table, which Professor Rogers scooped up, putting in his pocket as he walked past it. 

"Anyways, your office is up here." He said, starting up the stairs. 

I was slightly overwhelmed by the size of the house. It was a very nice, comfortable place. Exactly how much money did he have? And if he could afford this, why in the world was he working as a teacher? 

"You must enjoy being a teacher." I said, as I followed him up the stairs. 

"I love it." Professor Rogers said. "Especially history. I think it's one of the most important subjects for students to learn. That way, it's not repeated, although more often than not, it ends up getting repeated anyways. People don't recognize the signs. But I suppose every teacher says that about their subject." 

"Why does Professor Barnes teach?" I asked, pushing my luck. "He seems miserable teaching." 

"Does he?" Professor Rogers asked, seeming surprised as he looked over his shoulder, before opening the door at the top of the landing. We were on the third floor now- which I hadn't even been able to see from the outside. Why did the house look so small from the front? 

"Maybe not miserable. . ." I said hesitantly as I followed him into the room, "More. . ." 

I drifted off, looking at the office that I was to be working in. The door that Professor Rogers had just opened closed, blending in with the rest of the wall, a painting hanging on it. There were large glass windows across from the beautiful desk I would be working at. I could see the backyard even better from here, noticing that there was a pool there. A comfortable looking divan sat in front of the window. 

A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, matching the candelabra brackets hanging on the wall. A small table sat in the corner with a jade tea set sitting on it. The bookshelf's were a little more empty up here, mostly holding binders labelled with his different classes and a few Knick knacks. 

The desk was clear except for a newspaper that was sitting on there. It was the newspaper that Tony Stark owned and I grinned. "Feeling obligated to buy your co-workers newspaper?" 

Professor Rogers grinned back at me, picking the newspaper up. "What can I say? I'm a people pleaser." 

I couldn't help but blush for some reason. 

"Here's the binders which contain the different homework assignments." He continued, gesturing to the binders I had seen before on the bookshelf. "I thought that would be a little easier for you. I don't expect you to get everything done of course, just as much as you can before eleven." 

"I'll get started right away." I said with a smile, moving forwards and picking up the one for the study of the Middle East. He moved through the hidden wall-door, closing it softly behind him, leaving me alone in the grand room. 

I noticed that it had double doors that opened up into another hallway. This place was seriously a maze. 

I settled down behind the desk, feeling a little surreal. There was no way this was actually real. 

Smiling to myself, I started to work. 

ꨄ︎

I stood up, stretching as I set the fourth binder aside. I still had some time before I started on the fifth and sixth binders, but I needed to use the bathroom desperately. 

Professor Rogers hadn't shown me where the bathroom was, but I was sure there was probably one down the hall. I exited the double doors easily, moving down the hallway and then paused. All of the doors looked the same, so I was probably going to have to open all of them first. 

I decided to knock on each one just in case and then when there was no answer, I would open it up and look. Most of the rooms on the third floor looked to be empty guest rooms. On the last one however, I squeaked, Professor Barnes standing on the other side of the door. 

He looked down at me, an eyebrow cocked at me. 

"S-sorry. I was looking for the bathroom." I stuttered out. He still hadn't put a shirt on, though he was wearing jeans now. I adverted my eyes away from his body. "Um, where is the bathroom?" 

He stepped out of the room and I felt my back touch the wall as he turned to me. I swallowed thickly, looking up into his eyes now. The blue of his eyes was fascinating to look at it, it was so beautiful. 

"Buck?" Professor Rogers voice floated down the hallway and I looked over to see his face turn from confusion to surprise. 

"She's looking for the bathroom Steve." Professor Barnes said in a gravely voice, not moving an inch until he looked over at Professor Rogers. 

The blond professor rolled his eyes and punched the brunettes metal arm. "Then move jerk. Miss Silvertongue, the bathroom is through that door." He pointed to the door Professor Barnes had just come out of it. 

"Thanks." I squeaked, my face turning redder than it had been before. I turned and went into the room, closing the door behind me. I closed my eyes, wanting to scream and squeal at the same time. 

Instead, I went to the bathroom in a hurry, not even realizing my hands were shaking until I had to push extra hard to flush the toilet. I sat back down on the covered seat, putting my face in my hands. I could practically feel the heat of my burning face against the sensitive skin of my palms.

"Breathe." I verbally coached myself, standing up in a determined sort of way. I washed my hands, refraining from splashing cool water against my face to preserve the makeup, and left the bathroom. 

Professor Barnes was still standing in the hallway, observing me as I closed the door behind me. "I'm just here to make sure you don't get lost again." 

My face went bright red and I said nothing, simply turning and stalking down the hallway, a little angrily. He had something against me, I could just feel it. 

Professor Barnes trailed after me and as I reached the study door, I turned back to him, "Well I'm not lost. Thanks." 

His lips curved, a smirk dancing there. It was probably the closest that I would ever get to seeing him smile. I huffed, "And put a shirt on." 

Suddenly, he was to close again, my back pressed up against the wall once more. "Did you just give me an order?" He asked in a dark voice. I was both terrified and completely turned on. My heart started pounding in my chest. 

"Yes." I said, though I sounded meeker than I had meant. "It's inappropriate of you to walk around half naked while there's a student around." 

Professor Barnes leaned in closer and dropped his voice. "You're in my house, doll. You'll just have to get used to it." And then he pulled away, walking off down the hall.  

I couldn't breathe, watching him as he walked away. I hadn't even noticed how tight his jeans were around his ass and thighs. . . damn he had thick thighs. . . 

Not the time!

I forced myself back into the office, finishing off the two binders, before deciding to leave through the study door. Professor Rogers was in there and he looked up as I came down the stairs. 

"Ah, you're done Miss Silvertongue?" 

I was still very pent up and I was hard pressed to keep my cool. My smile was a little more strained and I replied, "Yes Professor Rogers. I graded everything except seven homework assignments where I could not read their handwriting at all. I marked them with the red paperclips in the drawer just like you had told me to do." 

"Thank you Miss Silvertongue." Professor Rogers replied, thinking for a second, and then pulling out the $60 I had earned today. "I'll see you in class on Tuesday." 

"Good-bye." I said and exited the office. I headed down the corridor, taking the stairs and then headed out the front door. 

I sighed, pulling up my phone to see when the next uber would be able to get here. I jumped when someone cleared their throat behind me. 

"Need a ride?" 

"Oh!" I nearly yelped, biting down on my tongue as I turned around. Professor Barnes stood there- fully dressed darn it. . . I mean thankfully!- holding a set of car keys. I noticed he'd put gloves back on his hands. "Um, only if it's not an inconvenience for you." 

"You're inconveniencing me by not accepting right away. Hurry up." Professor Barnes turned on his heel, heading towards the garage. I growled under my breath, before smoothing my face back over into a slightly sarcastic smile, following after him. 

Professor Barnes opened up the passenger door of a car that to me, looked like a boxy rectangle. "You know anything about cars Miss Silvertongue?" 

"They've got four wheels and get me where I need to go." I replied as I stepped into the car. 

He closed the door behind me, getting in on the other side. I knew it was a luxury brand from the inside of the car. It wasn't exactly what I had thought it would look like from the outside being pure black, but the inside was blue and black. It didn't just look fancy, it looked almost futuristic. 

"Are you always a smart ass?" Professor Barnes asked as he backed the car out of the driveway. 

"Only when asked stupid questions." I muttered, looking out the window. 

"This is a Rolls-Royce Phantom VII." Professor Barnes said, sounding proud. "Cars are some of the best things about this century." 

I snorted, "How old are you?" 

"Like thirty-eight or something. Who keeps track anymore." Professor Barnes answered flippantly. "Where am I dropping you off?" 

"Anywhere on campus. I'll walk back to my dorm from there." I replied. 

The rest of the drive was silent, until Professor Barnes was pulling over in a secluded spot on campus. I was glad for that. It would stop awkward questions of who was driving and who I had been with. 

"Hey." Professor Barnes said as I went to open the door. "Me and Stevie? That doesn't reach a word to a single person on campus, understand? Including Miss Greenleaf. Got it?" 

"Yes, I understand." I said softly. "I won't tell anyone." 

"Good. Cause if you do, you'll regret it." Professor Barnes warned me in a dangerous voice, before smoothing it over and smirking. "See you tomorrow doll." 

I quickly got out of the car before he could see my face had turned bright red, striding across the campus grounds to put as much room between me and my Psychology Professor as possible.

[david-tennant-in-chairs]

The sweater says "collects comic books" and the face says "collects phone numbers"

The Guardian Weekend (2006)

Transcript:

Hi, I'm David-in-my-pants," says the very boyish, handsome 34-year-old striding towards me, arm extended, wearing, as promised, his underpants. Perhaps the train journey from London to Cardiff was worth it after all.

"I just don't have the courage of my convictions about my fashion decisions-I think I need some guidance there," he adds in his charming Scottish accent, his eyes all characteristically puppyish and pleading. Yes, the trip is definitely worth it so far.

This fashion insecurity is a bit surprising, though, seeing as it comes from David Tennant, the tenth and latest Dr Who (he's in Cardiff filming the newseries) and, according to the Pink Paper, "the sexiest man in the universe" (Tennant claimed, sweetly, that he was "somewhat surprised" by that accolade.)

When playing the title role in the BBC's widely acclaimed Casanova, Tennant wore flouncy blouses with aplomb; and his outfit for Dr Who English tweeds paired with scruffy Converse - has already received plaudits from the fashion press. "It's not a million miles from what I usually wear," he says, "so I now have to be careful if people see me out and about looking too much like Dr. Who, that would be pretty naff."

The Converse were inspired by Tennant himself - he's been devoted to the brand for more than 20 years - so when I tell him that David Cameron wears them, too, he reels back into the sofa, aghast "No!" he whispers. "You`ve just ruined them for me.

He insists that becoming a recognised face has not changed his style, but has made him more conscious that he shouldn't wear something more than once because people comment on it. This, naturally, means constant wardrobe updates, which rather goes against a Presbyterian upbringing "that would never permit any conspicuous consumption."

Tennant's teenage years were a swamp of fashion mistakes, he says, citing in particular a pink jumper that we wore for years until someone told him that it was, well, terrible. And at 15 he sported a paisley shirt, skinny tie and cropped jacket combo that "properly expressed myself" - unfortunately, his tracksuit-wearing peers disagreed and punched him in the face. "Yeah, that didn't work out too well."

He is, he says repeatedly, not a shopper. "I do that typical male thing of finding one thing and doing it to death, like Paul Smith suits." He recently discovered H&M, he adds, enunciating each of the letters carefully, as if tentatively speaking in a new language. "Plain T-shirts for only a tuppence."

Yet despite all of this he seems at ease during the shoot. He particularly likes a tan jumper, which prompts him to stroke his hands over his chest in a most distracting manner. "I love this - what is it?"

Burberry, comes the answer.

[superbellsubways]

coppy again yayyyy yay (clippy is there too i guess ......)

[l-e-i-k-o]

Pamela.

[beneathsilverstars]

ooc of me to go this long without thinking about a daycare teacher au but i'm doing it now and i think siffrin would teach babies, nille would teach toddlers, isabeau younger preschoolers, mirabelle older preschoolers, and odile the after-school kids.

baby rooms are very routine-based with lots of written notes and almost no variation from the schedule, which would work well for siffrin! i think older kids might stress him out because he's kind of sensitive lol, but babies can't be mean to you or each other. and they definitely need more snuggles in their life, which babies are great for.

toddlers enjoy a lot of rough and tumble play because they're calibrating their proprioceptive senses, and people tend to hc nille as active and strong. having a bad reaction to sudden touch could be an issue with any age group, but at least toddler classrooms are built to make it easy to keep track of where everyone is at once, and toddlers don't care if you react weird sometimes!

early preschoolers are trying to learn how to name and manage big feelings and navigate interpersonal conflicts, but still can't communicate very clearly, so isabeau's emotional perceptiveness would come in handy. he's also strong enough to still be able to carry them and swing them around easily. and he's very silly, which is a plus with any age, but esp kids who are old enough to have active opinions but not old enough to hold a long conversation.

pre-kindergarten is the era of mastering basic skills like writing letters, using scissors, and naming days of the week; mirabelle loves taking all sorts of classes, so i think she'd love teaching all sorts of skills! and since she's used to working through her own anxiety, she would probably do a good job helping kids who are starting to become aware of more complex social dynamics and getting shy and self-conscious.

odile is self-assured and unflappable enough to be able to handle big kids, who will pounce on a hint of weakness. i think she'd get quite bored of cutesy early childhood stuff, but elementary school kids can play real games and do cool big projects! and she'd definitely notice when any trouble starts brewing so she can nip it in the bud.

none of them are lead teachers lol, except odile since the ratio for elementary schoolers only requires one teacher. euphrasie is the director, and mirabelle works there because she went to the same center as a kid and remembers it fondly. bonnie goes to the after-school classroom, and nille gets that sweet employee discount on childcare. odile is doing this temporarily while she looks for a job teaching adults in her actual field, isabeau kinda defaulted to childcare because he has way too much experience taking care of younger siblings, and siffrin applied to every job in the area and happened to get this one first. <3

[princemick]

guess who just got a job offer