Ellie Willams X Reader - Blog Posts

can you talk more about ellie’s grading and the feedback she gives? i wanna know how intellectual she is insane iq core 💔💔💔

Headcannons: professor!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

professor ellie masterlist

☆ Ellie uses red pens exclusively—not out of malice, but because she thinks it forces you to really see yourself. Her notes aren’t just critiques, they’re personal. “You know this theory, stop playing small” scrawled in the margins feels more like a confession than advice.

☆ She’s the professor everyone is a little scared of until they actually talk to her. Intense in lecture, terrifyingly smart—but she softens when she talks one-on-one. Her voice lowers, her eyes track yours as if she’s cataloguing your brain. She listens like your thoughts matter.

☆ If she sees potential in you, your returned paper ends up looking like a co-written piece. Whole blocks of her handwriting argue or build on your points, sometimes more verbose than your actual body paragraphs.

☆ Her most devastating feedback is always kind. “You hesitated here—why?” or “Don’t dilute a brilliant argument to make it sound ‘acceptable’.” You leave her office hours feeling like you just got psychoanalyzed and inspired.

☆ You notice she always returns your papers last. When you joke about it, she just says, “Yours require more... attention.” Her gaze lingers too long after. You think maybe she’s memorizing your arguments—or your face.

☆ You show up early. She pretends to be annoyed but always saves your favorite chair. Sometimes you catch her looking at your hands while you talk. She taps her pen when she’s holding back something.

☆ “Your phrasing here? Lethal. That’s how you cut through academic fluff.” It’s high praise from Ellie, but it feels like she’s talking about more than your essay.

☆ You don’t know this, but the first time you absolutely killed a complex theory with original thought, she kept a copy. She rereads it sometimes when she’s stuck in her own writing. She’d never tell you—but it’s annotated in the margins with her own thoughts. Like a conversation.

☆ She’ll slide your graded paper toward you and say, “Nice work,” before walking off. You find a sticky note inside later that says:

“Your logic here is brutal. You’d make a terrifying debater. You should come to my next seminar. If you're free.”

☆ If you ever push back on one of her comments (politely), she’ll go silent for a beat too long. Then she’ll smirk, lean back in her chair, and say, “Fair point.” But you catch the flush on her neck.

☆ When you lend her a book you love, she gives it back full of tabs and handwritten notes. Her handwriting shifts depending on emotion: neat when she agrees, sharp when she’s frustrated, small and slanted when something hit her too hard.

☆ She reads between the lines—not just in your essays, but in how you speak. If your writing suddenly lacks fire, she’ll ask, “What happened to your voice?” with more concern than she lets on.

☆ She has a private Spotify playlist titled after your most compelling paper. It’s full of moody, ambient instrumentals that make her think of you pacing a library aisle.

☆ Gives You Optional Extra Assignments That Are Secretly Dates “Analyze this journal article if you want... I’ll be in my office at 6.” She gives you wine after hours and calls it a discussion session.

☆ She never says it aloud, but in her mind, she calls you “Bright girl” or “My sharp one.” Sometimes those almost slip out.

☆ Has a Folder of Your Work. Digitally and physically. Not just because you’re a good student, but because she thinks you're one of the most important thinkers she's taught. It’s her little shrine.

☆ Can't Hide Her Pride When You Speak in Class. Even when she’s trying to stay composed, her eyes flicker with excitement when you raise your hand. Sometimes she smirks when you quote her back to herself.

☆ Touches Her Lip When She Reads Your Work. She doesn’t notice she does this. But whenever a line of yours punches through her, she’ll sit back, pen to her mouth, eyebrows slightly raised, like she’s just been got.

☆ Notices Your Scent. Once, you leaned over her desk and the smell of your perfume clung to her sweater. She wore it again the next day—“by accident.”

☆ You once mentioned a quote from a female philosopher you admire, and Ellie responded a little too coldly. Later you found your copy of that author’s book in her office—full of her annotations. She's studying your mind through what you love.

☆ Writes Feedback That’s Basically Poetry. Sometimes her comments feel like verses. “You bent truth until it screamed—good. Now own it.” You don’t know if she’s flirting or just brilliant.

☆ You Catch Her Staring at You During Lectures. She’ll be mid-lecture and pause just a second too long on you. It makes your stomach flip. She always looks away first.

☆ Hates Giving You Anything Below an A. If your work ever slips, she spends forever writing the feedback. It pains her to mark you down—but she refuses to baby you. You’d never respect her if she did.

☆ Has Dreams About Debating You. Sometimes she jolts awake after a dream where you out-argued her in front of a whole academic panel. She was proud and a little turned on.

☆ Knows Your Favorite Pen. She keeps a matching one in her desk drawer. She says it’s coincidence. It’s not.

☆ She’s the Only One Allowed to Critique You. If someone else in class makes a dismissive comment about your work, Ellie will eviscerate them—politely, devastatingly. You leave class blushing. They leave in silence.

☆ She Has Your Writing Style Memorized. If someone read her a passage of your work out loud, she’d know it was yours immediately—by cadence, syntax, and how you handle commas like you’re carving something open.

☆ Her Voice Softens When She Says Your Name. Even when she’s frustrated or passionate, your name is the one word that always comes out gentle. A pause in a storm.

☆ Writes You Into Her Lectures. Without naming you, she’ll quote your paper in front of the class. “A student once said something that stuck with me…” She knows you know it’s you.

☆ She’d Risk Her Career for You. She hasn't yet. But she’s thought about it. Late at night, with one of your essays open in her lap, wondering if knowing someone’s mind this intimately should feel like falling.