#TA!Harry
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Prose (part 3)
In which y/n is Harry's favorite student, and she accidentally kisses him.
+++
A perfect day for y/n includes plugging in her headphones, getting herself a little starbucks treat, and going to the bookstore.
After her week of midterm hell, she decided that she deserved this. She hadn’t been to the bookstore in a while, and none of the books she has right now are piquing her interest. She deserves her chai latte, she deserves to take a break from studying, and she deserves to have a day to herself.
She’s unaware of her surroundings as she walks through the fiction aisle. She has two books under her arm that she’s deciding between getting (she’s on a college girl budget, she can Not afford to be buying more than one book a week), but a third one sitting on the new release shelf catches her eye. It’s by one of her favorite authors – but it hasn’t been released in paperback yet, and hardcovers are so expensive. Maybe she could see if the library has it, instead.
She puts it back on the shelf, and side steps along the aisle, scanning all the books displayed all organized and pretty. When she gets a house, she’ll turn one of the bedrooms into a library, and display all her books with a bunch of cozy candles and a reading nook and it’ll be perfect. That’s the dream, she sighs.
She moseys into the non-fiction aisle… not really her go-to genre, but when she’s at the bookstore, she’ll be there all day. There’s another girl in the aisle with her, with a book cracked open, reading the author’s note. Y/n is careful not to get too close, staying a couple steps to the side and looking over all the titles. Another figure joins the girl standing to her right – a tall male who looks oddly familiar.
Suddenly she’s smelling vanilla and smoked wood.
She peaks over discreetly, and recognizes the curly brown hair and hunched shoulders instantaneously. Harry stands close to the other girl, his chest brushing her arm as he looks over her shoulder at the book she’s holding. He’s got a book of his own tucked under his arm, and his signature smirk dimples his cheek as he whispers something to the girl. Y/n wonders what they’re talking about, feeling a pang in her chest as he quietly giggles with this other, pretty girl. He's dressed much more casually than his usual button ups and slacks that he wears to class. Nike shorts and a gray hoodie, with a brown pair of sunglasses pushing his unruly curls out of his face.
This is the Harry that exists outside of class. He wears hoodies and goes to bookstores on the weekends and has friends that she doesn’t know about. She’s suddenly overwhelmed with how much she doesn’t know about him. For example – is this pretty red-headed girl his girlfriend?
She swallows thickly and averts her eyes, pretending like she didn’t notice him. She doesn’t think TA’s enjoy seeing students outside of class (even if they are also the kind of TA to drive students home when it’s rainy or late at night). Plus, what would she even say? Hi Harry, is this pretty girl your girlfriend? Because I was actually hoping you were single and also I have a huge crush on you and sometimes I think about what it’d be like to kiss you– but I’ll try to keep all that to a minimum if you are actually in a happy relationship!
She takes a couple quiet steps back towards the romance aisle – not only her favorite genre, but a safe escape route from any possible awkward encounters – but of course, OF COURSE she’d accidentally knock into a display table and knock a few books down.
She quickly bends down to pick up the books and pretend like nothing happened, but she’s not quick enough to escape Harry who curiously calls out, “Y/n?”
She smiles nervously. “Hello.”
The look on Harry’s face is one that could light up the darkest room. He smiles excitedly, his bunny teeth on display, and his eyes brighten with familiarity. He turns to the girl next to him, bursting, “Madeline– this is her!”
“Y/n?” Madeline chirps, her voice light and fluttery like a bird.
“Um, yeah?” Y/n’s eyes flicker between Harry and red-headed Madeline. Does Madeline know who she is?
Her confusion is obvious, her head tilting slightly and her lips pinched to the side. “Madeline is another one of the graduate students in my year–” Harry explains. “She TA’s for one of Dr. Richmond’s other sections.”
Y/n nods, still confused.
“I’ve read your essays!” Madeline bubbles. “Harry and I always talk about our favorite students and send each other the really good essays!” Harry’s cheeks turn pink as Madeline exposes his favoritism towards y/n, but he supposes it’s not that much of a secret. Y/n’s eyes glance towards him curiously, who stands with his lips curled in a bashful smile.
“Oh,” y/n doesn't fully know what to say, feeling shy and nervous but flattered at the same time. “That’s so nice, I… I didn’t know TA’s did that.”
“Oh yeah, we also send each other the bad ones…” Madeline prattles on, while Harry brushes his knuckles against his nose, almost embarrassedly. What a coincidence to see her here, when he’d literally just been telling Madeline all about his favorite student — the only student to show up to his office hours, who had so many good thoughts on the books that they were reading, and who wasn’t even an English major! The two graduate students always complained to each other how the students that they TA-ed didn’t seem to appreciate the books they analyzed together – how hard it was to get students to participate, which is silly since they literally signed up for those classes voluntarily. It’s rare to have students who genuinely want to talk to them about whatever they’re reading in class.
Madeline rests a hand on his bicep, “I’ll go check out this book and then we can go back to yours, yeah?” He has no idea what else she might’ve said within the past minute, too caught up in his own thoughts, but he nods as she walks towards the register. That leaves him alone with y/n.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets, and y/n tucks her books to her chest protectively. She’s silently analyzing what Madeline might’ve meant when she said that they’d go back to his place. He nods his chin towards the books, “What are y’getting?” He genuinely can’t control the way his eyes glimmer with fondness when he looks at her.
She reveals the covers to him. “Well, this one’s called Rebecca… and this one’s called Bunny.”
His lips twitch, “Bunny?” She nods. He thinks about the way y/n’s nose tends to twitch like a little bunny. What a fitting book.
“What book are you and… Madeline getting?”
“Er– just a book Dr. Richmond wanted us to pick up for him. For the section Madeline TA’s for.”
She nods. He rocks back and forth on his toes, staring at her with that fond glimmer still in his eye.
Madeline comes skipping back a few seconds later. “Ready?”
With a wave, Harry and Madeline head out. Y/n carries on with her book shopping, Harry lingering in the back of her mind.
+++
“Okay everyone, that’s all for today,” all the students in the room start shutting their laptops and zipping their bags as Dr. Richmond closes his own book. “Don’t forget to do this weekend's reading, check the course site for the next essay prompt… and, um… yeah, that’s it.” Harry quickly stands from his corner of the classroom, tapping Dr. Richmond lightly on the shoulder. “Oh!” Dr. Richmond exclaims into the mic, “Wait– everyone pause, Harry has an announcement.”
The shuffling and murmurs die down, as Harry stands in front of the lecture hall with his hands folded behind his back. “Um– Just wanted to let you all know that your essays have been graded. Scores will be posted by the end of the day, and if you have any questions or want to go over your papers, you can come to my office hours. Thursdays at 5.”
He gives a soft, close lipped smile, and everyone resumes their chattering. Y/n is the only one who approaches Harry’s desk.
“Hi,” she fiddles with the straps of her bag nervously, “Can I know how I did?”
Harry, who’s packing up his books, gives her a teasing side eye, a sly smirk on his lips, “Didn’t I just say come to office hours?”
She shrugs, “Was hoping you’d tell me early. Since I’m your favorite and all.”
He breathes a laugh through his nose, looking around the classroom to scour if anyone’s still there other than the two of them. He can’t even bring himself to deny it. “M’not supposed to have favorites,” is all he has to say. His cheeks tint pink and he smiles bashfully, both of them knowing fully well that his favoritism is undeniably there, even if he’s technically not supposed to let it show.
“Come on Harry,” she pleads, wide eyed and pretty, “I worked extra hard on it since I had that extension. I literally spent all weekend on it.”
He clips the buckles on his briefcase and looks at her with an exaggeratedly heavy sigh, “I suppose I could make an exception. Only ‘cos you worked so hard on it.” She beams at him. “We’ve got t’go to my office though. There’s a discussion in here right after us.”
“Okay,” she starts toward the door, trotting eagerly ahead of him like an excited little bunny. “Do you mind if we stop by Starbucks first? It’s on the way to your office.”
+++
The Starbucks line is short. Harry goes first. “Could I have an americano, please?” he orders. He then looks back at y/n, “And um… also one of those chai drinks? With the pumpkin spice?” he smiles charmingly at the barista, and ignores the way y/n rushes to his side.
“Wait– Harry, you’re not getting that for me are you?” she whispers, tugging on the sleeve of his coat.
The barista asks Harry what size he wants the pumpkin chai. He turns to y/n, “What size d’you usually get?”
“No, Harry– you can’t–”
“A medium should be good, I think,” he says to the barista, brushing off y/n’s complaints.
She pouts as he whips out his card and taps it on the reader. “Why are you allowed to get me drinks if I’m not allowed to get you drinks?”
He shrugs, walking away from the register. “Because I said so.”
+++
It’s exactly when they settle down in Harry’s office that Madeline makes another appearance.
“Hey Harry,” she says, knocking on his door and peeking in. “Oop– Hi y/n. Did you see Dr. Richmond’s email about the grad panel? Do you think you’ll go?”
“Umm,” Harry sits in his chair and unlocks his computer with pursed lips, “Dunno. Don’t really want to. S’not mandatory, is it?”
“No. I’ll only go if you go. It’ll be boring, otherwise.”
“Nah,” Harry scrunches his nose. “Lets not. M’tired. And m’having some office hours right now,” he says with a nod towards y/n.
“M’kay,” Madeline shrugs. “Nice to see you, y/n!”
Y/n has no reason to dislike sweet, kind, bubbly Madeline, other than for the fact that she seems to be exceptionally close with Harry. She feels a pit in her stomach when she sees the pretty girl bounce away, carefree and happy. Of course, she has no good reason to be jealous, because Harry is just her TA, and he’s just nice to her because she comes to his office hours, and that she should have absolutely no expectations of anything to come of her crush.
Harry pulls out the folder of all the graded papers, and shuffles through the names until he gets to hers. He hides her score from her, staring at her teasingly. “You sure you wanna see it with me right here?”
She nods eagerly, eyes wide and excited.
“Okay…” He drags it out, looking down once more at her paper before revealing the big 100% written at the top of her paper.
Her jaw drops. “Really?”
“Mhm,” he says with a big smile. Leaning in, he whispers, “the only perfect score in the entire class, too.”
Her smile grows wider, and she’s speechless, staring at her score. She was proud of the essay, of course, but she’s always nervous about getting grades back. There’s always room for improvement, she knows, but most professors are pretty ruthless with the criticism.
“S’not that surprising, is it?” he asks with a quirk of his lip. Surely she must’ve known that she’s a good writer, no?
She shrugs. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was going to get a perfect score.”
“It was brilliant, really,” he says, “And not just because m’playing favorites. I showed it to Madeline too, and she thought it deserved a perfect score as well. You’re so cohesive and elegant with your words… s’well deserved. You’re writing is on par with some of the graduate students in my year, honestly.”
Y/n feels her cheeks heating, flipping through the pages. Despite the fact that he gave her a perfect score, it doesn’t mean that her paper is empty of any criticism. He’s made little notes all over the margins, playing on her ideas and telling her ways he thinks she could build upon them in the future. Her eyes lightly skim through his notes and the generous amount of praise he’s written for her. “Love this,” he wrote, highlighting a certain section of her essay. “Wish you talked more about this in the intro,” he writes at another point. He’s still advising her on how to get better and what she could improve on, but… “You met all the rubric requirements. By our grading standards, it’s perfect.”
“No deductions for submitting it late?” she asks nervously.
“Y’didn’t submit it late. Dr. Richmond gave you an extension. I told him how many units you’re in, and how you’re not even taking this class for any credit towards your major – and he agreed that you deserved some slack.” He takes one of the papers from his stack of essays and uses it to playfully smack the top of her head, “stop worrying about that.”
Her chest bubbles with relief and she smiles. “Well… thanks for letting me get it back early,” she says. “I, um– I’d love to talk about it more in depth but I don’t wanna bother you… like, if you wanted to go to that thing with Madeline, we can be done.”
Harry groans, “oh my god, please no. I don’t wanna go to that panel. I’ll take any excuse not to go.”
“Are you sure?” y/n tilts her head. “Madeline seemed– like it just seemed like you two were… like…” she doesn’t know how to end that sentence, and has no idea where she was going with it in the first place.
Harry tries his best to fill in the blanks for her. “Madeline and I just usually go to these events together ‘cos they’re boring and it’s awkward to go alone. She’s my thesis partner so we usually stick together.” Harry rubs his eyes tiredly, “I really don’t wanna think about my thesis though. I spent all weekend grading, I just wanna go home and nap. Not go to a panel of a bunch of thesis advisors. That sounds miserable.”
Y/n nods, chewing on the inside of her lip. “Oh. Yeah, that doesn’t sound fun.”
“Yeah,” he lets out a deep, tired sigh. “Anyway.”
Y/n’s lips kiss her teeth as she rolls her lips inwards. “Well– I should head out then,” she stands up quickly, suddenly feeling awkward, “I don’t want to keep you here if you’re tired.”
“S’no trouble,” he says, sitting up.
She turns about herself, grabbing her bag from the floor and her jacket from the back of her chair. “No, honestly I’m kind of tired too,” she rambles, “I’ll look over the notes you left for me and come back during office hours.” She reaches forward to grab her essay from the desk, unaware of the way the sleeve of her sweater is dragging across his desk and snagging onto the lid of her half full iced chai, sending it onto the floor. The lip pops off of the drink when it meets the ground, and she gasps as his hardwood floors are suddenly covered in her pumpkin spiced drink.
Harry rolls back from the splashing drink quickly, trying to avoid getting his nicely pressed pants stained, while y/n gasps, having no idea how her drink ended up on the floor. “Shit!” she exclaims, dropping her paper back on the desk and checking for the culprit of the mess. She nearly facepalms when she realizes it was her own hanging sleeve and unawareness that made her coffee spill to the floor. She drops her things back on the floor, “Oh my god, Harry, I’m so sorry.” She frantically looks around and sees a roll of paper towels on his bookshelf, rushing to his side of the desk where the majority of the mess is and kneeling down. She lays a ton of paper towels down on the floor, letting them soak up the drink, and looks on his desk to sadly find that her drink stained the edges of a few of his graded papers. “Oh my god. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, s’no big deal,” Harry’s quick to reassure her. He rolls back closer to her, a hand on her shoulder. “Just an accident.”
“But the papers–”
“S’just the edges. I once spilled an entire cup of soup on a stack of ungraded papers and had to just give everyone 100%.” He smiles, “That’s not what happened with your essay though, obviously.”
She huffs out a laugh. He always manages to make things better when she’s stressed.
He gets out of his chair, kneeling down next to her in his well pressed trousers to help with cleaning up the soaked paper towels.
“No, Harry, I can do it,” she resists, leaning forward at the same time as him. Their foreheads nearly collide as she pushes his hands away, wanting to clean up her own mess. His chocolate brown curls have flopped onto his forehead, and his face is so close to y/n’s that she can actually feel them brushing against her forehead. He looks at her through his lashes, his eyes bright green. Her own eyes are wide and round, staring at him sweetly. Their faces are extremely close, her hand is encasing his, and they are both incredibly aware of it.
Y/n’s lips part, as if she wants to say something, but she finds herself unable to create any coherent sentences. Harry similarly, stares at her through his lashes, his breath bated, his chest tight.
Her eyes flicker down to his mouth. She stares at his pretty, pink lips, not curled into their usual, charming smile. He’s serious and deep in thought, his eyebrow furrowing. She’s too distracted by his lips to try and figure out what he might be thinking about. The air around them is tense, and neither of them say anything.
There’s something so magnetic about him. She doesn’t realize that she’s leaning in… closer and closer to those pretty, heart shaped lips.
Suddenly, y/n has inched so close that their noses are brushing. She can feel his gentle puffs of air against her lips. She’s so close that Harry has to flutter his eyelashes shut in order to not get cross eyed from staring at her. His heart thumps in his chest, and he swallows thickly. In a moment of weakness, he finds himself leaning towards her, and for the briefest moment, their lips brush, his bottom lip tickling her cupid's bow. His hand reciprocates her embrace, his fingers tightening around her palm.
They both know they shouldn’t. “Y/n,” Harry croaks, and her heart flutters. “We shouldn’t…” Her heart immediately deflates, and she pulls back, embarrassed. Her gaze drops to the floor disappointedly, feeling stupid and foolish.
Harry can’t bear the distance between their lips– can’t bring himself to refuse the pleasure of having her soft lips against his. He likes her – of course he does! She’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s kind… but she’s his student. That’s the only thing that’s hindered him this entire semester. The guilt of falling for one of his students, when he knows how wrong it is.
The guilt isn’t strong enough, apparently. He follows her forward with enough force to connect their lips in a kiss.
It’s soft and harsh at the same time – their lips are gentle, but his stubble is scratchy. The kiss is sweet, but the tension behind it is rupturing like an overflowing dam. He’s caught her by surprise, kissing her just seconds after telling her that they shouldn’t. But she’s not upset about it. She’s too busy reveling in the taste of his mouth, experiencing the feeling of his lips against hers for the first time, after daydreaming about it for weeks.
It doesn’t matter that they’re both sitting on the floor, hovering over a spilled chai tea latte.
It’s perfect. It’s exactly what she imagined.
He feels warm, his skin soft, his lips sweet. His woody vanilla scent drenches her senses, and she’s lightheaded from how magnificent it is to finally be kissing Harry. Wonderful, amazing, charming Harry, with his dazzling green eyes and his soft, brown hair. Those boyish dimples and pretty pink lips, the same pretty pink lips that are puckered against hers right now.
He brings a hand up to cup her jaw, his fingers gently making their way to tangle in the hair behind her ear. She feels his thumb on her cheekbone, caressing her softly, and it sends a blaze down her entire body. His rough, calloused fingertip, worn down from all the writing and papers he graded, grazing her soft cheekbone as if he’s afraid to break her. As if she’s the most precious thing on the planet.
Leaning forward on her knees, she inches closer to him, pressing herself more firmly to him and reciprocating the eagerness in which he initiated this kiss. His fingers tighten in her hair and his eyebrows furrow. Her lips are the sweetest, softest thing that he’s ever tasted, cloud-like pillows that he wants to kiss on for the rest of his life.
He’s desperate to get closer to her – he wants to kiss her until she’s breathless and whimpering his name. Lean forward so that she’s lying on the floor and he’s hovering above her, his hand on her hip. Teasing his palm up her leg, under the edge of the skirt she’s wearing, while he fits his hips between her legs. He wants to pick her up and get her on the couch, spread her legs and kneel between them. Kiss up her pretty thighs, suck marks on her pretty skin–
Footsteps echo in the hallway outside of his door. They both jolt away instantaneously. The headrush of their magnificent first kiss starts to fade, and the reality of the situation starts to sink in.
They are in his office. The door is unlocked. She is his student.
Harry’s chest rises heavily and his eyes flutter open, hoping to meet her pretty irises – but her gaze is firmly on the floor, where she’s wiping up the last of her spilled drink and bunching up all the used paper towels together in her fist. She dumps them in the trash under his desk quickly, and stands before he even has the chance to move.
“Hey…” he tries to say, but he can barely find his voice. He’s stuck in a trance.
“I should go, Harry,” she says quickly, avoiding his eyes. Her lips are still swollen, a reminder of how not even five seconds ago, he’d been kissing her without a care in the world. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks up at her like a confused little puppy, distraught and wanting more affection.
But it’s so wrong. Her heart aches, a mix of regret for being so stupid, but also regret that she pulled away. It’s too much for her to process.
She grabs her bag from the floor, and is out of his office, without another word.
Harry’s fingers graze his lips. He’s left alone with his thoughts, and the lingering taste of her on his lips.
+++
For the first time in seven consecutive weeks, y/n doesn’t show up to Harry’s office hours.
Harry spends the hour grading essays, alone. A cup of black coffee on his desk, and his floors sticky with the remnants of pumpkin syrup.
+++
Y/n spends the hour that she would have spent in Harry’s office hours, alone in her room. She’s glued to her phone, an incognito tab pulled up as she tries to calm her racing mind.
“Is kissing between a student and a TA prohibited?”
“Student-TA relationships”
“Rules on dating TAs”
“Will I get in trouble for hooking up with my TA?” (Yes, it was just a kiss. But hypothetically… if they were to hook up… would she get in trouble?)
None of the search results do much to calm her guilty conscience.
She wishes she could just appreciate her kiss with Harry for what it was – a sweet kiss with the most attractive, amazing, wonderful, perfect boy she’s ever interacted with. But there’s just the small, annoying fact that he is her TA and she’s scared that she’s gonna get expelled for that sweet, innocent little kiss.
She’s spent days worrying herself over it. Biting her nails and picking at her cuticles and tugging at her hair. Some people on reddit say that it’s no big deal, that graduate students and undergrads date all the time! But other people tend to disagree, saying it’s a bad idea, NO MATTER WHAT. No matter how sweet or handsome or kind that graduate student might be. No matter how much you might like him, no matter how innocent it all really is – just two people who like Frankenstein who get along swimmingly well.
The whole TA thing is just… a minor detail. Only partially relevant.
Despite her reluctance, she still does show up to class because Dr. Richmond takes attendance and she doesn’t want to hurt her grade just because of some stupid, silly mistake.
She wonders how Harry feels about it all. He probably has more at stake than her – he’s the graduate student, after all. Does he regret kissing her? Or, like her, does he only regret the fact that she’s his student, and how risky it is? They’re playing with fire.
Whatever the case may be, y/n decides to put the fire out. Her crush on Harry was meant to be a silly thing, something to keep her coming to class and motivate her to stay on top of her work. This has gone too far.
She needs to wake herself up from whatever fantasy world she’s living in, and come back down to reality.
+++
Harry’s eyes are on her for the entirety of Dr. Richmond’s lecture.
He’s discreet about it, of course. It’s not like he’s outright staring at her. But he watches her from the corner of his eye, has her in the back of his mind as he tries to pay attention to whatever Dr. Richmond’s rambling on about.
He needs to talk to her. Needs to sort this out and make it right. He knows that she’s in her head about this – he can tell from how she refuses to even look in his direction. But he needs to tell her that it’s alright, that she’ll be okay.
Y/n bolts out of the lecture as soon as it’s over. Harry, as quick as he tries to be, can’t manage to pack up his things and follow her out fast enough. He tries to get past the students as quickly as he can, giving half-hearted answers to their questions and telling them all to come to his office hours instead – but it’s not fast enough.
By the time he’s out of the classroom, she’s halfway home already.
+++
The same thing happens at the next class, too.
The normally active y/n, who eagerly participated in discussions and answered all of Harry’s questions was quiet as a mouse today – feigning a headache to the classmates around her. She kept her head low, kept her eyes away from Harry.
And when class was over, she was out the door before Harry could even look in her direction.
+++
there's part 3!! pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!
Prose (part 4) is already posted on patreon!
Prose Masterlist
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HEARTSTOPPER
2.03 | 2.06
Charlie: 2
Harry: 0
#heartstopper#heartstopperedit#heartstoppercentral#heartstopperdaily#narliesource#userbarrow#charlie spring#harry: *exists*#charlie: (งᓀ‸ᓂ)ง#tas makes things#hst 2.03#hst 2.06#DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT CREDIT!
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percy weasley with curly hair. and not just curly hair but the unruliest fucking hair of the entire weasley family, which is partially why he keeps it so short. like yeah he prefers it short but even if he didn't he's slightly worried it would take a mind of its own if he let it grow an inch too long. one day penelope got bored in the library and started sticking quills in his hair and he didn't find the last one until two weeks later. percy weasley's hair is its own species
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STAR TREK: THE ANIMATED SERIES // S1E10 Mudd's Passion
A few moment's of love, paid for with several hours of hatred. Your potion is scarcely a bargain, Harry.
#trekedit#star trek#star trek tas#james t kirk#spock#christine chapel#harry mudd#star trek*#tas*#kirk*#spock*#chapel*#tas 1x10#my gifs
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i just finished the atlas complex and had to stare at the wall for a good minute.
what.
i don't think i could have predicted that in a million years.
OKAY BUT REINA X PARISA WE WON WE WON LET'S FUCKING GO I DID THROW THE BOOK (onto my bed) BUT YESSS IT WASN'T DELUSION IT WAS JUST SLOW BURN I WAS RIGHT!?!?!?!?!!!!!!
no one died wdym
#the atlas complex#the atlas six#no bc i had to close the book when you know#those two deaths#i have not been this distraught since harry in tshoeh#blaze rants#the atlas complex spoilers#tas spoilers#mine#no coherent rant like the atlas paradox just a mess of feelings
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Okay wait, I'm sorry, this is completely unrelated to my blog but do people not know that houses in school are a completely normal thing and not something made up for Harry Potter?? I spent my entire childhood and teen years in a house. And these houses were created pre WW2.
#I'm sorry this is so unrelated to comics#but i was talking to someone and i mentioned my old house#and they were like 'oh so you were like ridiculously into Harry Potter?'#and my brain short circuited#no. i was in an actual house. you know. how like a lot of schools do/have#and they just... had no fucking clue what i was talking about????#so now im curious#and i gotta know#I GOTS TA KNOW
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Y'know, Tulio would be a chubby dude, since he's a foodie and doesn't exercise (he tries but he gives up in the firsts 10 minutes of workout (tho i think he'd be in the muscle-fat body type)
JC would most likely be underweight o somewhere near it, since he gambles all his money to the point he can't even afford to eat (he'd have strong legs tho cuz he's always running from his debtors and his responsibilities lol never skip leg day jsjs)
And Juanín is literally a bear, the most beautiful polar bear in world :]
#31 minutos#juan carlos bodoque#tulio triviño#juanin juan harry#i might draw them with my vision odlf what i think they're bodytypes are#pero mi motivación ta muerto aaa#sacanme del artblock xfa :[
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quick thought: old school Doctor Octopus x civilian reader where they have the exact relationship that Roxanne Ritchi and Megamind have where he kidnaps her all the time over the news until Spider-Man comes to get her and over time they actually start getting feelings for eachother
#it’s so chaotic#that scene where megamind calls her a temptress#I think doc does that a lot once he starts getting feelings for you#doc ock x reader#doctor octopus x reader#I’m thinking like 60s comic to 90s cartoon doc#but yeah I can’t watch megamind now without thinking of this#who would be minion though#important discussion to be had#I might draw this ngl#Spider-Man#Spider-Man x reader#tas doc ock#Comic doc ock#OH OH OH AND HARRY OSBORN WOHLD BE HAL
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Star Trek brainrot has left me with a single thought right now and that's a stand up comedian who gets up on stage and just goes "WhaAat's the TROUBLE with TRIBBLES?!" and the crowd just goes absolutely hog wild
#star trek#star trek the original series#star trek tos#the trouble with tribbles#harry mudd#tribbles#tos s2 e15#tas s1 e5#tos kirk#captain kirk#tos spock#spock#bones mccoy
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professor/ta
professor
athens by @moonchildstyles
harry is y/n’s philosophy professor by @haaarry
- part two
harry is y/n’s criminology instructor by @jawllines
- part two
i’m having your baby by @atlafan
- part two
open door policy by @atlafan
professor styles by @steveodinsonbarnes
professor styles quickie by @gurugirl
when i kissed the teacher series by @songbirdstyles
risk it by @watchmegetobsessed
tastes like strawberries by @watchmegetobsessed
- part two
wildest fantasies series by @watchmegetobsessed
professor styles by @let-me-write-shit
baby, it’s cold outside by @havethetimeofyourstyles
extra credit by @havethetimeofyourstyles
harry is y/n’s history professor by @hstyles-1994
harry is a young professor & y/n has never felt this kind of attraction before by @novelistrry
ta
serotonin by @hrina
- part two: dopamine
sneaky by @watchmegetobsessed
teacher
stop thinking so much by @meetevieinthehallway
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles ta#professor harry styles#harry styles fic rec#professor#ta#harry styles au
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Prose (part 2)
In which not many students attend Harry's office hours, and y/n's kind of burnt out.
+++
“What’s that drink you’re always drinking?” Harry asks, sitting across from y/n in his office.
She’s the only student to show up to his office hours this week (again), and had come to ask about the first essay that’s due next week. While she types on her computer, writing down all the notes that Harry just gave her on her first draft, Harry finds himself staring at the iced drink sitting next to her laptop.
“Oh, it’s just an iced chai. I’ve been getting two pumps of pumpkin spice syrup in it recently though, since Starbucks has their fall flavors now.”
“Hm. I’ve never tried the fall drinks.” He twirls his red pen between his fingers, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “M’always too scared to try new drinks, y’know? Like what if I don’t like it? Then I’d have wasted five bucks and I wouldn’t even have a coffee to get me through my day.” He pouts to himself at the thought of it, and y/n finds it terribly endearing.
She’s happy to know that Harry is seemingly very comfortable in her presence, prattling on and on about the simplest of things – like coffee orders and his favorite food places on campus. When she first walked in, the first thing he’d asked her was her favorite place to grab lunch on campus, since he was starving and one of the other TA’s had offered to drop off some food for him. His personal favorite was the bagel place (he could have a cream cheese bagel at any time of the day, he told her), but that place closes early, so he was stuck between getting mexican or sushi.
Y/n advised him to stick with the burritos – her ex-roommate once got food poisoning from the sushi. Never trust the on-campus sushi, she warned.
“M’kinda like that too,” she responds once she finishes up her essay outline. “I usually just always get the chai, ‘cos I know I’ll like it. But sometimes I’ll be adventurous with like, the syrups I add, because it doesn’t really make a difference. Like right now, I have pumpkin spice syrup in here, and I can barely taste it so even if I didn’t like it, it’d be fine.” She takes a sip to somehow prove her point. “I just like adding the pumpkin for the fall vibes.”
“Is fall your favorite season?” he asks. It’s been a lot of this – Harry asking her questions, getting to know her. She wonders if it’s because she’s the only one who shows up to his office hours and, therefore, is the only person whose ear he gets to talk off – or if he genuinely is interested in her. The thought of it makes her heart want to do a backflip, but she kindly tells her heart to CALM THE FUCK DOWN before she starts getting carried away in her train of thought. Harry’s just a nice guy! A nice guy, who talks to her about books, and shares his umbrella, and gives her rides home when it’s rainy outside – and has pretty pink lips, and pretty green eyes, and pretty brown curls.
“Yeah, I think so,” she hums.
Her crush on him seems to grow more and more every time she sees him, like those tall annoying weeds that you constantly have to dig out of a pretty flower garden. The type of weeds that seem to grow back even stronger each time you cut their roots and spray anti-weed chemicals on them to ensure that they don’t come back. She’s tried to smush those bothersome butterflies in her stomach, continuously reminding herself that he’s just her TA. That he’s just being nice. That he just calls her smart, and tells her that she’s doing a good job, and praises her discussion posts because that is literally what a Teaching Assistant is supposed to do. But whenever he smiles at her with that boyish dimple and his eyes glimmer all sweetly and romantically and thoughtfully – well she just can’t help it! She’s given up and has let the crush invade her brain like the invasive garden plant that it is.
It’s just a harmless little crush, she rationalizes. Just a little fantasy of kissing him here and there to get her through her boring lectures with Dr. Richmond – nothing wrong with that, right?
She clears her throat, “What’s your favorite season?”
He stares up at the ceiling, pursing his lips thoughtfully, “Hmm… probably spring. I like seeing the flowers bloom, especially after a snowy winter.”
Oh, of course he likes seeing the flowers bloom. He’s a walking piece of poetry.
+++
Harry stands at the front of the classroom, lecturing once again. It’s the same as before – fourty-ish college students hanging onto every word like his words are a waterfall and they’re a group of dehydrated travelers.
He loves teaching, loves seeing the way his students’ eyes light up with wonder when he explains a certain theme or points out a new motif. He’s more than happy to hold their hand through the novel, be their guiding light through the Romantic era. Their questions make his day, and he’s beyond happy to see that, now that they’re a few weeks into their course, the students are opening up.
“Victor is so caught up in his experiment,” Harry lectures, “that he begins to ignore nature. Victor says– ‘The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit. It was the most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage: but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature.’ So what role does nature – or should I say – the lack of nature, play for Victor?”
Four hands shoot up into the air (relieving considering how last week he could barely get anyone to say anything). “Katie, right?” He smiles when she nods, and gives an exaggerated, celebratory fist pump that makes all of his students chuckle. “Told you I’d start getting your names down! Go ahead, Katie.”
Although he’s laughing and smiling – practically beaming since he and his students are getting along and actually discussing (instead of just him lecturing them) – he can’t help but feel a little pinch of sadness in the back of his mind. As his eyes scan over the seats, he can’t manage to find y/n in the class. He’d searched for her three times already – wondering if he accidentally missed her, or if she was hidden behind one of the tall boys near the front – but he couldn’t find his star student. He missed catching her eye, giving her sly winks and watching her duck her head down stifle a laugh. It kept him entertained whenever he had to sit through Dr. Richmond’s lectures, and he liked hearing her talk. Not only does she add amazing thoughts to their class discussions, but she also is just… nice to listen to.
“Good… I love how you said that Katie,” Harry carries on, “He embodies the corruption of nature in the quest for glory. And we already know how highly the Romantics regard the beauty of nature – their artwork is meant to connect us with the world, isn’t it?”
He wonders if she’s okay. She isn’t hurt or anything, is she? Did something happen to her on her walk to class?
“He’s disrupting the natural cycle of life, basically destroying nature, by trying to play God and create life himself–”
Y/n, as quietly as she can, sneaks into the classroom. She’s 15 minutes late, which isn’t late enough to just completely ditch the lecture, but still late enough to raise a few eyebrows. Of course, being the clumsy duck she is, she accidentally knocks the trash can over with a loud bang. She winces at how loud the sound is, and feels her cheeks turn hot when all eyes turn to look at her.
Harry turns as well, and can’t help but smile to himself – there she is.
He continues with his lecture, as if nothing happened, but watches as she hurries over to her set spot in the third row. She messily pushes her hair out of her face as she sits down, pulling the pull-out desk in front of her and grabbing her laptop from her bag. She types in her password quickly, and pushes the sleeves of her white cardigan up her arms so that they aren’t in the way. Her eyes briefly flicker upwards to the projector to see what she missed – but instead she accidentally catches Harry’s gaze, who’s already looking at her.
All of a sudden, Harry loses his train of thought. His eyes flicker between hers, and she stares back at him. They’re stuck like that for a moment – just the briefest moment – before he realizes that words are no longer coming out of his mouth and that the rest of the class is staring at him expectantly.
His cheeks tint pink. “Um… sorry, what was I saying?” He chuckles at himself embarrassedly, shaking his head at himself – it’s not often that he stutters over his words. But, luckily, it was brief enough to just pass as a slight fumble. Nothing too suspicious.
Harry tears his eyes away from y/n and resumes with his lecture. But somehow, as delusional as she might be, y/n can tell that that moment was something more than just a slight stumble.
+++
“I got this for you,” y/n says, standing in front of Harry’s desk, placing the iced drink down next to his pile of papers.
Harry furrows his eyebrows and sits up straighter. “What?”
“It’s a pumpkin iced chai… the same one I usually get. I thought, since last time you said you didn’t wanna waste five bucks trying a new drink–”
“Are you mental?” he interrupts.
She blinks. “Huh?”
“Why would you go on and waste five of your dollars instead?” he huffs. “Christ, y/n, don’t be silly, m’not letting you buy me a coffee. How much was it, let me pay you back–” he’s reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, but y/n is quick to refuse.
“No, don’t worry I didn’t pay for it! Starbucks has this thing– it’s like, if you buy one fall drink you can get a second one for free, but it’s only on Thursdays after 12. And I was gonna get one for myself anyway, so I was like– might as well just get the second one for free so that you can try it and not waste five dollars.”
He pauses, his wallet half open and a five dollar bill pinched between her fingers. He squints at her, “Are you lying?”
She gives an exasperated huff, “Why would I lie?!”
“I dunno, maybe you’re trying to butter me up with drinks and stuff so that I’ll grade your essays easier – which won’t work by the way! M’not easy to bribe!”
She rolls her eyes and plops into the seat across from him. “Please. If I was gonna try and butter you up, it would’ve started five weeks ago, when classes actually started. And I probably wouldn’t be in your office hours every week groveling over these stupid essays.” She lets her bag fall to the floor and blows the hair out of her face. “Y’know, Dr. Richmond does not explain the politics of 18th Century Europe well enough to expect me to write an entire essay on ‘the effects of globalization on romantic era literature.’ I signed up for a literature class, not European history. When are we gonna start writing essays on Frankenstein and feminism?”
Harry goes to respond, but right at that moment he takes a tentative sip of the drink that y/n had forced onto his desk. He cannot hide the grimace that graces his face.
Her eyes round out and her eyebrows pinch. “You don’t like it?” she says with a pout.
His lips smack together a few times, trying to get used to the taste of pumpkin in his mouth – but he actually really cannot stand it. “God,” he says, his nose wrinkles and his tongue aching for some water to wash away the pumpkin-y after taste. “What a waste of five dollars.”
“Oh my gosh– I did not spend five dollars on a drink for you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he pushes the drink to the edge of his desk, the sight of it making his tummy turn a little bit (he really did not like that pumpkin flavor mixed with milk). He then states the obvious, “You were late today.”
“Yeah. I overslept.”
He tsks, “What happened to the punctual Miss y/n who showed up twenty minutes early on the first day of classes?”
She sighs, “Dunno. Was up kinda late last night. And then I guess I snoozed through my alarm.”
It’s only then that he notices the dark circles under her eyes, and how her face is missing that usual radiant glow. He’s so caught up in her smile and her eyes, that he nearly missed the exhaustion leaking off her body. “How late?” he inquires.
“Um… like 3 in the morning.” Harry gapes at her, and she shrugs.
“Tha’s not healthy,” he scolds like a father. “Why’re you staying up so late, hm? Should be in bed for at least 6-8 hours, don’t you know that?”
“I know,” she rubs at her eyes tiredly. “I just have a psych midterm next week that m’really freaked out about. I like– fell behind on the lectures, so m’trying to learn like the past three weeks of material in a few days.”
Harry feels his heart ache, sympathizing for this poor, tired, hard-working girl. He knows the struggles of undergrad – he was pulling all nighters too, back in his day, and he never dared to go above 16 units. He wonders how she’s surviving, taking 20 units while still being at the top of her classes – well, she’s at the top of this class, he knows for certain. His star student.
Her eyes are still hidden behind her hands, knuckling at her eyelids, but she pulls them away slowly when she feels Harry’s hand at her knee. She looks at him, and he’s suddenly aware of how red and glossy her eyes are. “Just don’t overdo the studying, okay?” he says with soft eyes and a gentle voice. His thumb rubs overtop her knee softly, saying a hundred words that he can’t say out loud just quite yet.
She nods, and swallows thickly. “Okay.”
He smiles. “So you want a crash course in European History? I can do that for you. Dunno why more people don’t show up to my office hours, m’literally about to tell you exactly what to write…”
+++
Y/n is exhausted.
Actually, exhausted doesn’t cut it. She is at her breaking point.
With midterms week upon her, she’s been drowning herself in her school work, trying to keep up with her lectures and recap everything that she’s learned up until this point. Kind of difficult, when she’s fallen so dreadfully behind and barely knows what’s going on in her stats class. And – to make things worse, not only does she have both her stats and psych midterm this Friday, but she also needs to finish this stupid Globalization essay by tomorrow’s deadline.
Seven pages about The Effects of Globalization on British Romantic Literature. She currently has three pages written.
She’s screwed.
It’s not like she was trying to get behind! She tried so hard to stay on top of her studies. She promised herself that she’d finish the globalization essay last night – went to starbucks with her noise canceling headphones, got herself an iced pumpkin chai as a motivational treat, and sat down to turn all her notes into a beautiful, magical essay on Romanticism that would make Dr. Richmond weep.
But… the words just weren’t wording! Her brain refused to cooperate with her, despite the fact that she stayed at the Starbucks literally up until they kicked her out. She read her sources, went over her excerpts, wrote and rewrote her thesis over and over again… and only got three out of the seven pages done. She doesn’t know whether to blame Dr. Richmond for assigning such a stupid essay, or just her own sleep-deprived brain.
She’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep last night. And the night before that, too. Harry’s words ring loudly in her head, scolding her to get at least six hours of sleep every night… but she just has so much work to do! She has to do her psych readings, her stats homework, the midterm practice her stats professor posted, and this essay… It's a lot. Plus having to actually attend all of her classes and go to work (she works at the campus bookstore) on top of all her homework and studying? She barely has time to eat!!!
Her tummy grumbles miserably, a painful reminder of the fact that she had forgotten to pack herself a lunch this morning in her haste to get to class on time. The pain is nowhere as bad as her headache, though. It’s the kind of migraine you get when you barely got any sleep. Her head feels heavy, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and her eyes sting every time she blinks. It’s horrible. She can barely focus on anything. Not her stats homework, not the essay open in front of her.
Not even Harry, who’s sitting to her left, helping her with her essay. In fact, she’s completely missed what he’s spent the past minute explaining to her.
She blinks at him slowly. “Sorry… can you say that again?”
Harry’s pretty face pinches, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glimmering with concern. She’s so clearly off today… he can’t ignore her red-rimmed eyes and zoning out any longer. “…are you okay?” he asks timidly.
“Yeah, yeah,” she says quickly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine.” But it’s like as soon as she says those two words, the dam holding her together collapses, and a river of emotion comes barreling through her. She looks down at the open document on her laptop, stares at the cursor blinking at her. The blank page taunting her. Tears well up in her eyes, and her heart starts to swell sadly. She’s not fine at all.
She quickly hides her face from Harry, looking down at her lap. She is NOT allowed to cry in front of him, she reprimands herself. She’s kept herself together all day, why is she starting to get emotional now, in the middle of his office hours? Couldn’t it have waited until she was alone in her shower?
She swallows around the lump in her throat, and presses her palms to her stinging eyes. As if that’ll keep her tears at bay. “Sorry,” she mumbles, trying to conceal her shaky voice, “let me just think for a second.”
“Hey…” Harry sees right through it. “Hey, come on. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says, mostly trying to convince herself. She sniffles as quietly as she can and tries to rub the tears away. “Sorry, nothing. I’m fine.”
She reaches for her laptop, but Harry grabs her hand. “No.” He can’t ignore the glossy sheen of her eyes, or the quiet sniffles. He just can’t. “We need to take a break.”
“It’s really fine–” she tries to say, but she can barely get it out with how her throat is swelling. She stares down at the floor. Harry holds her hand.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His hands are big and warm, encasing her’s, wholly. A cross tattoo sits between the slit of his thumb and second finger, twitching as his thumb grazes her knuckles.
“M’just tired,” she says dejectedly. “I was up super late last night and I just… didn’t even get anything done. And now I have to finish this, and I haven’t finished my stats homework, and I have two midterms on Friday.” Her heart starts to race as she realizes much she has to do, and how little time she has. She’s stretched herself thin. “There’s just so much I have to get done,” her voice cracks, “and I’m so tired.” A big fat tear rolls down her face, and drops onto her shirt – shamefully staining the thin material.
Harry gets out of his chair and kneels down in front of her, resting their joint hands in her lap as he stares up at her. More tears fill her eyes without her consent, and her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she sniffles. She refuses to meet his gaze, despite how earnestly he’s looking into her sad eyes. Another drop falls from her lashes.
“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs sadly.
“I thought I could handle it all,” she bleats. “But I’m so unprepared for my midterms, and I need to finish this essay, and I promised you that I’d stay on top of my work, but I’m falling behind–”
“Don’t worry about the essay,” he interrupts. “I’ll get you an extension on your paper.”
She shakes her head. “Dr. Richmond doesn’t do extensions, though,” she blubbers.
“I’ll talk to him,” he says firmly. “M’the one grading it anyway.”
“But Harry–” she whines, shamelessly childlike, “I promised you that this wouldn’t happen. I told you I could handle it.”
“And you can handle it. I know you can.” His green eyes are wide and round as he looks up at her, earnest and pleading. “You come to office hours, and you study hard, and you’d stay up all night to finish this essay – but I don’t want you to. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know you can do it.”
She pouts, still not looking up at him. She stares instead at their joint hands in her lap blankly.
“You’re doing so good,” he coos, “You’re coming to office hours even when you have so much going on, and you’re taking so many units. I know you’re giving it your all. S’okay.”
He reaches a hand out to rest on her shoulder, and suddenly she feels the weight of the world fall off of her chest. A long, shaky breath leaves her, and she blinks her eyes shut, letting more tears cascade down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry’s heart breaks. He leans up to wrap his arms around her shoulders, a soft hug, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder, letting the tears silently fall. His hands rub big, soothing circles on her back, and he shushes her softly, “It’s alright.”
His blue dress shirt feels cool against her face, crisp and fresh, and he smells like vanilla and smoked wood. She doesn’t want to abandon his firm chest, his warm embrace, but he pulls back and looks into her eyes. For the first time, she meets his gaze. “No more crying, okay?”
She sniffles, and wipes the wetness off her cheeks. “M’kay.”
A soft smile smooths out the worried lines on his face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says, his hands slapping his thighs as he stands back up. “You’re going to take a nap–” he closes his office door and locks it with a click.
“A nap?” her watery voice exclaims. “But– I need to study!”
He gives her a firm look. “You’re not gonna get any studying done if your brain isn’t well rested.” From one of the bottom drawers of his desk, he pulls out a blanket (he sometimes will take a nap in his office if he needs a break from grading). “Take a nap. I’ll wake you in an hour and then y’can study in here.”
+++
You know that peaceful feeling that surrounds a room when a baby is taking a nap? How everyone tiptoes around the crib, their voices barely surpassing a whisper in fear of waking the sleeping baby. How parents will stand around, just watching the baby nap, smiling to themselves when their baby twitches in its sleep. How the world just seems more… peaceful?
That’s how Harry feels right now.
Y/n is on his couch, his cozy gray blanket pulled up to her chin. Her cheeks are puffed, her tired eyes shut with her eyelashes resting delicately on the tops of her cheeks. She looks angelic, the most relaxed he’s ever seen her be, with no midterms stressing her out. No papers due, no furrowed eyebrows, no crying. Like a sleeping baby, cherubic and sweet. He’s been tiptoeing around her for the past hour, grading papers as quietly as he can. He tried to be productive and just mind his business while she napped, but everytime he shuffled through one of the essays, he felt the urge to check on her, to make sure that he didn’t accidentally wake her up. And then he just wanted to… watch her. Not in a creepy way though!!! Not in a creepy way. In a kind of… sweet way. :( She was beautiful, especially when she slept.
His heart doesn’t want to wake her up – not when she looks so peaceful for the first time weeks. All the times he’s seen her since that very first week was her stressing and stressing and stressing – stressing about getting a permission code from Dr. Richmond, stressing about her exams, stressing about the rain. He’s never gotten to see her take a breath and be calm. She’s a hard worker, he can tell – which is a great trait that he admires in his students. But, with y/n… he just wants to make sure she’s okay, too.
He kneels down in front of the couch, and regretfully murmurs out, “y/n?” She doesn’t respond at all– she’s dead to the world. All the exhaustion that she’d accumulated this past week, all the hours of sleep she missed, are catching up with her now. He tries again, “Y/n… time to wake up.”
Her eyebrows furrow and her nose wrinkles, but she still refuses to open her eyes. The pull of sleepiness is too strong. It makes him chuckle. “Come on, bunny,” he says, in reference to her twitchy nose and pouty lips. “V’got a snack for you.”
Her sleepy eyes blink open, and immediately he can tell that she needed that nap. Her eyes are brighter, less red, and she stares up at him sweetly. “A snack?”
Of course that would get her to wake up. His dimple pokes his cheek. “S’not much. Just a granola bar. But it’ll help you while you study.”
She sits up, the blanket pooling around her waist, and rubs at her eye with her knuckle.
“Feeling better?” He asks, a hand on her knee.
She nods. She’d taken an Advil for her headache before she’d gone to sleep. That, with her nap, has made the prospect of studying a little bit more bearable.
When she looks around the room, she sees that Harry’s cleared up a portion of his desk for her to study at. Gone are his stacks of books, a bare square of wood right across from the stack of essays he’s currently grading. The usual foldable chair that he has students sit in during his office hours has been moved to the corner, and has been replaced with one of the more comfy, rolly chairs. He’s gone out of his way to make a sweet little study space for her while she napped in his office.
“Now… we’re gonna have to leave by 9,” Harry says, standing up and going round to his side of his desk. “Cos v’got to feed my cat. But that gives us at least… two hours of study time. N’then I can take you home. How does that sound?”
She blinks. “Harry… thank you.” She doesn’t know why he’s being so nice to her, or what she’s done to deserve such kind treatment. But it means the world.
He shrugs nonchalantly, but she doesn’t miss the dimple that pinches his cheek as he smiles to himself.
+++
They stay in his office until nightfall.
Harry’s nicely styled curls turn messy, his fingers tangling through his hair he graded the freshman papers (is he a harsh grader, or does this new generation truly not know how to write?). His eyebrows furrow behind his tortoise shell glasses, green eyes hard and serious. Y/n watches the way his lips purse, how he taps his red pen against his chin while he reads.
Her own brain is done with studying. After her nap, she started playing her classical music and sat down to finish her stats homework AND the practice midterm. Without the globalization essay to worry about, she managed to calm down and focus, get some of her work done, and catch up on the things she was so behind on. Does she feel any better about the exam? No. But at least she can say that she studied!
Harry manages to make a nice dent in the stack of ungraded papers as well, working well in the comfortable silence filtering between the two of them. There was no need for them to talk, and they didn’t distract each other either. Simply getting their work done next to each other, and enjoying each other’s presence (though neither one of them would outright admit how nice it is to just sit in silence with the other).
They pack up and head out together when it gets closer to nine. Harry holds the office door open for her and locks his door behind them, and they walk closely together towards the parking lot. It’s dark, the ground only lit by the few streetlights looming above them, and a shiver racks through y/n’s body from the cool autumnal air. She hadn’t planned on being on campus so late – she thought that she’d probably go straight home after office hours and pull an all-nighter to finish her essay – so therefore, she doesn’t have much of a jacket except for a lame cardigan over her shirt.
Harry, who usually is on campus until nightfall anyway, wishes he could do something for her when he notices the way she’s hugging herself, her cardigan pulled over her fingers. He wants to pull her to his side, wrap an arm around her and share his body warmth with her – but that would be entirely too unprofessional, he thinks. Instead he picks up his pace, forcing y/n to scurry in order to keep up with his long strides, and immediately turns on the heat for her.
He doesn’t need to ask for directions this time, knowing exactly where to turn and how to get to her apartment, and when he pulls up in front of her door, he turns to her quietly. “Listen. Don’t stress about the paper. Focus on studying for your exams, and then you can have the entire weekend to finish the paper, okay?”
“I feel… bad. Like, Dr. Richmond said no extensions, and you’re making these exceptions for me–”
“Don’t overthink it,” Harry interrupts. “Dr. Richmond just says that so people don’t just ask for extensions because they procrastinated. He will grant extensions when there’s a valid reason.”
“But, really it’s not a valid reason… everyone else has midterms.”
“But none of those other students have shown me how much they care about this class. I know you’re a hard worker, I know you aren’t just procrastinating.” He shrugs, “M’the one who makes the calls. And I think you deserve an extension.”
She sits there quietly, then says, “I-I just don’t want you to think I only came to your office hours to cry and make you give me an extension. I… come to your office hours for help. You’re like… helpful.” She says that last part awkwardly, and it makes him chuckle quietly.
“You can say I’m your favorite TA. I won’t tell.” His dimple pokes his cheek as he smirks at her teasingly, and she can’t help but giggle too. Her eyes twinkle as she looks at him with a small shake of her head. That wasn’t what she was getting at… but it is true.
They stare at each other for a moment too long. One of Harry’s hands rests on the wheel, while the other one comes up to play with his lip. Y/n’s hands sit politely in her lap, her bag sitting at her feet on the passenger’s seat floor. They’re both quiet, not knowing what to say. Yeah, they’re laughing and teasing each other, but something heavier lingers in the air around them. This tension… this magnetic energy. Neither y/n nor Harry know what’s causing it, or why the silence is suddenly so overwhelming. The smile on y/n’s face lingers in her eyes, which glimmer as she stares at Harry. And Harry, who had been smirking mischievously, now looks at y/n with a bit of a more serious air. He stares at her thoughtfully, his bottom lip pinched between his lips. His eyes wander down to her lips, pretty and heart shaped. She’s chewing the inside of her lip softly, and he wants to brush his thumb over her mouth and tell her to stop.
He catches himself, and quickly tears his eyes away before she notices. He clears his throat.
“Take care of y’self,” he says with a soft smile. “I want to see you well rested in class next week, okay?”
+++
HOPE U GUYS LOVED IT!!!!!! part 3 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (oct 21) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!! more tarry to come!
Prose (part 3) is already posted on patreon! : In which y/n is Harry's favorite student, and she sort of somehow accidentally kisses him.
Prose Masterlist
#harry#harry fic#harry styles fanfic#harry smut#harry styles smut#harry styles fic#professor!harry#TA!harry#professorry
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Spock figured out the love potion was what’s affecting everyone b/c Kirk was pissed that Spock and Chapel are hanging over each other.
I’m dying.
#star trek tas#star trek the animated series#star trek watch through#star trek#spock#james t kirk#Mudd’s Passion#harry mudd
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#spiderman#spider man tas#peter parker#mary jane watson#harry osborn#peter and mary jane#peter x mj#petermj#peter x mary jane#peter and mj#peter parker and mary jane watson#otp#one true love#bring peter and mary jane back together#bring back nick spencer#undo one more day#tie in comic
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would any of you be surprised if i said i had another fic idea. lol yeah no probably not anyways on with it (after a few notes)
1) this is based in the same universe as my last few posts, with slytherin harry and percy, but with some changes. they're pretty much the same, though.
2) this post is structured much more like a short story, with snippets of scenes, dialogue, and inner thinking, but i think you'll enjoy it nonetheless.
with all that out of the way, here's first year (or third year, depending on how technical you want to be):
james and lily potter are dead. everybody knows this. even deep down, somewhere, somehow, they know it. so they're really not sure how to feel when they wake up as 13-year-olds in bodies that aren't theirs and find out that their best friend, mass murderer sirius black, has escaped from prison.
lily does not know who she is, or where she is, and she definitely doesn't know why she's an only child with two parents who keep calling her hermione. but at least she's going to hogwarts, and if this has happened to her, she has no doubt that james has somehow been roped into it, too.
meanwhile, in a barely-together household somewhere far, far away (okay, not that far away, but you get the point), james wakes up with red hair and freckles and six siblings and two parents who seem to think he's a weasley, and he can't help but think that if there's one person who will be able to communicate with redheads, it's his wife. if only he knew where she was.
on september first, james finds himself being hauled down to king's cross station with four of his six-too-many siblings. he finds himself wandering through the express, unsure where to go until he's being pulled into a compartment and he looks at the girl across from him, staring him down with a critical eye. he doesn't know her, but he knows.
lily watches him without comment for a moment. then she says, "this is a strange arrangement," and they laugh themselves hoarse. they don't feel like laughing, really, but they're not sure they're capable of doing anything else.
it's a few minutes later when lily stands and leads him through the train. "you need to see, james," she says, and this time, neither of them laugh at all.
on their way, they pass by another compartment. the door is open, and a boy is leaving, and he bumps right into them. it's james's - ron's - oldest brother at hogwarts, percy. he's wearing slytherin robes and a head boy pin, and he's bidding goodbye to a group of people, but james only sees one of them. one with messy black hair and tan skin and green eyes, and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead.
"bye, percy!" he calls happily. "good luck!"
percy smiles. it's the first time james has ever seen him do so. he scowls when he bumps into james and lily, though, and he gives a tense, "ron," before shaking his head free of whatever else he might have said and heading opposite them. lily grabs james's sleeve and forces him to keep walking, because apparently, this isn't what she wanted to show him.
no. that's at the very end, and the sight of it makes james want to throw up. lily pulls him into the compartment and intertwines their fingers, squeezing his hand.
remus is asleep. he should only be 34, if harry is james and lily (hermione and ron's) age, but he's never looked worse. his face is sunken, and he's too skinny, and he has more scars than ever. his hair is graying, and lily and james don't want to think about why.
they spend their train ride in relative silence, and when they hear a commotion down the hall, they find themselves running from a dementor being chased from their son's compartment by a patronus in the shape of a crow. percy weasley stands in the doorway, scowling, before a worried expression overtakes his face and he rushes out of sight.
remus wakes, startled to find two students watching him so intently. something about them feels familiar, but he's sure he's never met either of them before. he decides that he's just tired and tries to fall back asleep. he doesn't, and though he pretends to, he can't shake the feeling that somehow, the kids know he's lying.
on their way to the castle, james and lily find themselves startled by the fact that there are creatures pulling the carriages. as james is about to ask if lily knows what they are, he hears ron's name being called by ron's sister, ginny. she's standing with a smiling blonde girl wearing funny glasses, and james tugs lily over to them.
"i can see them, too," the girl, luna, says, and it takes a minute for james and lily to realize what she's saying. her voice is dreamy, far away, but her eyes hold much more knowledge than the eyes of someone her age should. she smiles. "don't worry. you're just as sane as me."
as james and lily sit beside remus on a carriage up to hogwarts, watching luna read a magazine upside down, they decide that this comment is not very reassuring after all.
lily and james are gryffindors. so is ginny. luna is a ravenclaw, and she bids her friends (new and old) goodbye at the entrance to the great hall before skipping off to sit between two girls, one with curly brown hair, a head girl badge, and a tired smile, and the other with straight black hair and an excited grin. they wait for harry to find them, but he never does. eventually, they find him sitting between percy weasley and a younger blonde boy who looks suspiciously like a malfoy at the slytherin table. they don't say anything. they rarely do at this point.
as dumbledore begins to speak, introducing remus as their new defense against the dark arts professor, it's all james and lily can do to keep themselves from cheering. but then dumbledore begins to speak about sirius black, and they don't need to restrain themselves at all.
"as many of you have already heard," dumbledore says, "mass murderer sirius black has escaped from azkaban."
they don't say anything to each other all evening, too busy trying to force themselves to keep down their food, but when it comes time for them to part ways and head up to their dormitories, they hug like their lives depend on it. maybe they do.
(once james gets upstairs, he's greeted with the loud laughter of a skinny black boy and a smaller sandy-haired one, alongside the shy smile of someone who looks oddly familiar. dark hair, easygoing expression... james doesn't have to look at the name on the trunk to know it's a longbottom.
"getting pretty close with ms. granger, are we?" the sandy-haired boy, seamus, asks. james rolls his eyes, playing along.
"just you wait," he tells the boys. "you haven't seen anything yet."
they howl with laughter, not noticing james leaving the room to change into his pyjamas until he comes back and closes the curtains around his bed.)
for the majority of that year, nothing happens. james and lily research whenever they can - classes aren't that hard, really, if you've already passed them once, though it is a bit jarring to find snivellus at the front of the potions room. they read all about their (harry's) story: sirius black, their secret keeper, betrayed them to voldemort, killed peter pettigrew, and was sentenced to life in azkaban. this time james really does throw up, right there in the library (much to madam pince's annoyance), because he knows they got it all wrong.
it is two weeks after that particular study session that james wakes up to find sirius standing over him. he doesn't even recognize him at first: his hair, which he used to care so much about, is tangled and matted. his clothes are ripped and dirty and look - sickeningly enough - like prison robes. his eyes are wide and crazed, his grin merciless, but he drops his knife when he looks into those eyes. those eyes that he knows so well, that azkaban can't erase from his memory... dropped into the head of a 13-year-old boy he's never met.
james does not alert the professors of this event, but he does tell lily, and she simply squeezes his hand and tells him they'll figure it out. it's not much, but they don't have anything else.
it's after class one day when remus - professor lupin - asks them to stay back. they worry they're in trouble, or maybe their cover has been blown. maybe it would be good for remus to know who they are. but he doesn't. he simply pulls an oh-so-familiar piece of parchment out of his desk, hands it to james, and says, "if you cannot return this to me by the end of the year, please give it to harry potter," before sending them on their way.
james half expects to see his own name beside lily's when he opens the map, but he won't say he's surprised when it reads hermione granger and ronald weasley right outside remus lupin's office. his eyes stray to the slytherin dormitories, where harry potter is sitting in the common room with percival weasley and marcus flint. he also reads the names draco malfoy, blaise zabini, and pansy parkinson, but they're not huddled as close to harry as the older boys are.
soon enough, that fateful night arrives. james has given the map to lily, hoping that she'll come find him if anything happens since he can't climb the girl's stairs. sure enough, he wakes up one night to her standing above him, the map being pushed into his face.
"harry, percy, and marcus just left the castle," she says. "peter's following them."
it didn't take them long to figure out that ron's rat was peter, even without the map, but by the time this was realized, he was long gone. in the forest, probably, or hogsmeade. hiding somewhere out of their reach. peter must've seen something in their eyes, too, just like sirius and remus had. lily pulls james out of bed, and they creep towards the front of the castle.
it's just their luck that the head girl herself catches them. "what are you two doing out of bed?" she demands, narrowing her eyes at james in particular, and he remembers that he's the brother of her best friend; a member of the family who made percy weasley feel like an outcast for his house. he doesn't speak as he holds up the map, pointing to harry, percy, and marcus's names so close to sirius black's. penelope clearwater curses, glancing up at the kids in front of her, and then flicks her wand and sends a fully-corpreal patronus in the form of a weasel dashing up the stairs as she follows them outside.
they watch in horror as the map displays the picture playing out in front of them. marcus flint is grabbed by a big black dog labeled sirius black, and penelope - and oliver wood, who the patronus was sent to retrieve - no longer feel like sneaking. they jump out from the shrub they're hiding behind, and james and lily watch in awe as penelope actually runs faster than oliver to get to the whomping willow. they follow close behind percy weasley and harry potter, who are dashing after their friend.
"stay here," penelope tells james and lily, and they wait for her and oliver to disappear from sight before they follow them in. stay here? james thinks. as if.
the two stumble into the scene to find sirius standing across from the group of wide-eyed teenagers. they don't dwell on how the man's eyes, slightly out of focus, stare at them for a beat too long. they watch as percy weasley keeps himself stationed in front of harry, and oliver wood holds up marcus flint, whose leg is bent at a funny angle. penelope's eyes flash with anger when she sees james and lily in the doorway to the shrieking shack, so obviously ignoring her instructions, but instead of yelling at them, she pulls them behind her.
"what do you want?" percy demands, his voice cold. harry is holding onto him like a life force. sirius struggles for a response, glancing at lily and james again as if asking for help, and when he does, percy shouts "expelliarmus!" and sends him flying backwards.
this is when remus shows up.
"you switched," he says, intently focused on sirius. "you didn't tell me you switched." he's trying for a glare, but his eyes are sad and he looks tired and he's stumbling a bit, and lily grabs james's hand and nearly breaks it when she squeezes because it's the full moon.
"yes," sirius says, eyes wide with fear and recognition and hope. james and lily didn't stop to think what it must be like for him, knowing remus was out there believing the lies. this is all my fault, james thinks, and though he knows lily knows, she doesn't tell him it's not. "i'm sorry we didn't tell you, but there was a spy, and -"
sirius does not finish before he's being tugged into a hug, and harry gasps.
"you traitor," percy all but growls, taking a step forward, out of oliver and penelope's reach. harry clings to him, but now he looks unsure. "we trusted you."
"and you can still trust me, percy," remus says gently. he's leaning on sirius now, and though it must not be obvious to the others - not even lily - james can tell when remus is hiding his pain. "i think there's been a misunderstanding."
sirius and remus explain the story - sirius, mostly, considering remus only just found out the truth himself. percy looks like he doesn't quite believe it, but he doesn't have any evidence that says they're lying, especially when the rat in the corner is dragged into the middle of the room ("is that scabbers?" percy asks, incredulous) and is forced to transform into a tiny man who simply smiles at them and runs off again as remus collapses.
"run!" james screams, as if the others aren't. penelope, after shoving james, lily, and harry out the door of the shack, has begun helping to pull marcus along. percy brings up the rear, despite harry's loud protests. remus and sirius burst out of the shack behind them, neither of them human anymore.
james and lily run, watching as percy sprints ahead of them to usher harry forward.
"percy!" penelope screams, pointing. "pettigrew!"
sirius, as padfoot, turns away from the spot where remus has run off into the forest and begins bounding towards the scruffy looking rat scampering towards it himself, but he stops when percy does, pulling out his wand. james and lily stop, and harry stops, and penelope and oliver stop, making marcus hiss in pain when his broken leg hits a stray root.
peter doesn't. not until percy, hesitating for only a moment, shouts, "imperio!" and the rat goes still.
nobody knows what to say as percy breaks the deafening silence with a shaky voice, commanding, "transform." they don't say anything as peter appears before them, staring directly at james and lily with wide, terrified eyes like he's asking for help.
as percy takes a deep breath, telling peter to "go to headmaster dumbledore and confess everything," they don't speak. they simply follow behind, james watching padfoot as he sprints into the forest in search of moony.
sirius black is not forced into hiding. peter pettigrew is taken to azkaban. percy weasley's quick thinking got him into a body bind, the daily prophet wrote.
james and lily potter are dead, but ron weasley and hermione granger return to their families for the summer, wondering what fourth year will have in store for them and their not-so-little (all too grown up) boy.
#harry potter#hp fandom#marauders#mwpp#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#james potter#lily evans#percy weasley#slytherin harry potter#time travel au#(sort of)#hp fanfic#tas rambles
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#head instructor to the TAs in the lab section i TA for: how r u guys feeling abt the workload?#me who hasnt graded anything since week 1 and spent an hr that morning filling out a patient safety plan: 🙃#listen. we r experiencing symptoms that make us shitty at our job. which is not helpful for a positive outlook#i was also experiencing horrible cramps at the time bc i lost my ibuprofen and 2 days ago i stopped the birth control in a desperate effort#to stop feeling terrible. but in this moment i feel alright. its wild to go from drastically unhappy to like lol wtf was that? anyway stop#being a bby loser. for no obvious reason. im gonna start the birth control again to see if i get depressed again or if that was just me lol#i dont think my therapist understands the depth of my executive functioning issues tho. bc im a grad student and can meet deadlines. like#let me tell u im a fucking disaster abt starting things. i will go back and forth and get nothing done forever. or i do things halfway and#make everything 30 times more difficult later bc no one else understands how my brain works#ah well. itll b fine. sometimes i just get freaked out that i wanna b better and i dont kno how to do that. so i spiral in despair a lil#ill b fine. im good at catching myself before i get too out of control. annoyingly tho i am not currently beating the bip0lar allagations#bc whatever tf is wrong with me i do probably fit the diagnostic criteria for bip0lar 2. i dont kno y that freaks me out so much. i guess#its bc it feels like something i cant just make better thru force of will and i grew up in a home that was very obsessively#health conscious to the point my dad gets anxious abt taking a single ibuprofen. so like ive been conditioned to get freaked out by#medication. literally my grandma will call me and tell me to b suspicious of doctors and to not take medicine unless absolutely necessary.#like lady u r the genetic reason i have 0cd shut the fuck up. also it feels like something that would more negatively affect how ppl think#of u than saying oh yea i get depressed or i have anxiety. like the connotation feels worse im used to just telling ppl whatever tf#my problem is. so the idea of holding something back feels weird. which annoys me bc i dont think there should b so much of a stigma. its#bullshit. anyway idk. im tired. i was trying to think of a comfort tv show with my therapist and all i could think was the terror#when im depressed i wanna watch those English mother fuckers suffer and die. i just lov that show so much. harry g00dsir my beloved. the#most me coded character to ever exist#unrelated
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Harry + Peter’s relationship in this show summed up
#peter parker#harry osborn#smtas#sms4#spider-man: the animated series#spider-man tas#spider-man cartoon#eggborn#booooooo
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