#professor wisteria

[legendaryprofessorwisteria]

The Jenova Update

So! Things have been...complicated. But I'm sure everyone remembers Jenova, the Arceus Shard that was basically dropped in my lap. Figuring out how to handle her has taken some time, but she's now settled into her new situation - and I thought you might like to hear what it is. Below the cut, so I don't clog any dashes more than necessary.

I had, honestly, no desire to keep Jenova on as one of my Pokemon. To put it simply, I'm not in any position to take on an Arceus Shard as a Pokemon - especially one who, understandably, didn't choose to be in my care at all. As such, I am not her legal Trainer, and only was for about an hour. However, she has agreed that I can say I had an Arceus Shard at one point, for the cool factor.

Technically, right now, Jenova is the lab's Pokemon. She emancipated herself as belonging to herself - something any Pokemon capable of communication can do - and took ownership of her own Pokeball. And then, immediately, she designated our lab as a trusted holder of her Pokeball, registered herself as a lab Pokemon, and turned her ball over to the lab where it's currently being held in a secure location.

As such, she is her own Trainer, but we are responsible for her and her ball by her own choice, because she decided to remain here. She's more of an employee now than anything - she has her own office, which is being furnished for her (door enlargement, rearranging furniture so she has space, etc). She's also on payroll as a protector Pokemon - officially, her job is to prevent any dangers like Paradox Pokemon attacks or poaching attempts. She is our biggest, scariest line of defense.

Unofficially, she's mostly here to learn about the present, work with the Sinnoh League, and just enjoy herself. She's also consented to be studied - simple things like taking measurements, checking up on her health, and similar things. From that, we've determined that she's slightly shorter than the Original, with longer fur - and while that may not seem like much, it's huge news! We finally know for sure that Shards are NOT direct physical copies of their progenitor. She has physical and mental characteristics - a preference for she/her pronouns among them - that they do not, and it seems that Shards are more autonomous than most initially believed, though the Original still receives their memories.

She's settling in quite well, all things considered. I think Violet is helping and Giblets is 'helping' her rearrange her new office a bit right now while Tesla and Lilith are outside getting some sun and not-very-subtly watching, hah. Jenova seems to enjoy human food, amusingly enough...specifically coffee and pastries. A lot of the lab - myself included - are trying hard to get along with her, which has led to...too many donut runs.

All in all, things are going well. And I really don't envy the next person who tries breaking in to the lab.

[wisteria-lodge]

SORTING DISNEY VILLAINS (1937-1989)

For  *spooky season.* I suspect this will be easier than sorting the heroes, who tend to be reactive while villains are very clear about what they want and what exactly they’re going to do to get it. Let’s see if this ends up being the case. 

I go into a lot more detail about this character analysis system here, and talk about the move away from the HP terminology here. But here are the basics: 

PRIMARY (ie MOTIVE)

BADGER ~ Loyal to the group.

SNAKE ~ Loyal to yourself and your Important People.

LION ~ Subconscious Idealist. Ideals are linked to feelings and instincts.

BIRD ~ Conscious Idealist. Ideals are linked to built systems and external facts.

SECONDARY (ie METHOD)

BADGER ~ Connect with the group. Make allies, work steadily and well. Be whatever the situation calls for. If you find a locked door, knock.

SNAKE ~ Connect with the environment. Notice things. Tell people what they want to hear. If you find a locked door, get in through the window.

BIRD ~ Collect skills, knowledge, tools, personas, useful friends. If you find a locked door, track down the key or learn to pick the lock.

LION ~ Be honest, be direct, speak your truth. Either the obstacle is going down or you are. If you find a locked door, kick it in.

THE EVIL QUEEN (1937) - BURNT BADGER / BIRD

So. I know that in Snow White the Queen's Thing is Vanity, but.  The ‘Vain Villainess’ trope is about the fear of becoming less powerful in a world that only values you for your looks.... which doesn’t actually seem to be her issue? The Queen seems pretty darn unchallenged in her universe. That’s almost part of the problem - there’s an addiction/obsession/paranoia flavor to the way she’s constantly checking in with the Mirror.

I don’t think the Queen is actually obsessed with Snow White’s beauty. I think she’s obsessed with her innocence, her “heart” (that’s literally what she asks the Huntsman to bring her, Snow’s heart in a box.) Snow White isn’t just the “fairest” as in the prettiest, but the fairest as in the most fair-minded, the most honorable. The presence of Snow, with her optimism, kindness, and trust is an existential threat, proof that the Queen is going about things all wrong. The power we see her wield definitely has an edge of sadism: She forces Snow to wear rags (none of the other princesses wear *rags.*) And I’ll be haunted by this image of the Queen’s dungeons forever.

So even though my first instinct was to go Hedonist Snake primary for the Evil Queen, that’s not right. She’s not focused on enjoying herself. She doesn’t seem conscious enough of her own desires to be a Bird, and Exploded Lion is possible… but I’m going with Burnt Badger. An obsession with being “Fairest of them all” seems to suggest a group-focused, External-facing primary, and I absolutely see how the extremely UnBurnt Badger Snow White would really get under a Burnt Badger’s skin. 

Obviously a Bird secondary. The Evil Queen is Mad Scientist coded, even has a literal evil laboratory. The “Old Crone” plan features a transformation, a costume, and is very much an Actor Bird persona.  

THE WICKED STEPMOTHER (1950) - SNAKE / BADGER

While she does seem to get some sort of sadistic pleasure out of controlling Cinderella, the Wicked Stepmother’s main motivation is her daughters. Her daughters kind of suck, but that doesn’t actually matter. The Stepmother is going to make sure they get that happy ending, with all the targeted loyalty of a Snake Primary. There’s a Badger secondary in there too, which you can see in the way she’s… subtle. The Stepmother takes away Cinderella‘s privilege bit by bit… but never actually goes after her directly. She manipulates her daughters into doing her dirty work (like the way they tear up Cinderella’s dress) so she can always maintain plausible deniability. She’s prim, she’s proper, she’s Lady Tremaine. Dark Courtier Badger, all the way. 

THE QUEEN OF HEARTS (1951) - LION / LION

This Queen’s thing is that she’s childish. She wants what she wants NOW. Doesn’t matter if it makes sense, doesn’t matter if it’s impossible. The Queen of Hearts functions as both a lesson to Alice (authority figures don’t always know what they’re talking about) and as a warning (this could be you if you don’t navigate the transition to adulthood properly.) I see a very young Glory Hound Lion primary in the way she forces everyone else to cheat so she gets the emotional reward of winning the croquet game. I also want to attribute the Queen of Hearts’ extremely short fuse to her Lion primary - she acts on what she’s feeling the *second* she starts feeling it, and never questions this. Also she's a Lion secondary. There’s no plan. She lives in Wonderland. She’s living moment to moment.

CAPTAIN HOOK (1953) - BADGER / SNAKE

Unlike the Queen of Hearts, Captain Hook does not seem to be *of* the magical land he lives in. He is this outside force trying to impose order on Neverland, leading the only rigid organization there and constantly tying up/imprisoning the main characters. Hook is also the only one threatened by the concept of time (the ticking crocodile.) *Peter* will never grow old. But somehow Captain Hook will? Or feels like he will? Tradition also says that the actor playing Wendy’s controlling father should play Hook as well (the Disney film uses the same voice actor in both roles) so there's definitely something about toxic order going on. In the world of Peter Pan, Hook/Father becomes representative of adulthood/society/the Man. That makes him an Authoritarian Badger primary, defined by his organizations.

For his secondary - Hook’s not much of a planner. He’s most effective while he is talking an angry Tinker Bell into helping him, and in that scene he’s charming. He flatters her, pivots according to what he thinks she wants to hear, and while Courtier Badger secondary is possible, I think this feels more like Snake. (I also think you have to be some kind of Improvisational secondary in order to hold your own against Peter.) It makes sense - Hook has to be appealing and seductive as well as threatening, because that's kind of what adulthood is.

MALEFICENT (1959) - BIRD / LION

Maleficent feels socially slighted in a very *abstract* way. She doesn’t seem to have an emotional response to either the other fairies OR the King and Queen OR Aurora. Her curse doesn’t have anything to do with with her social standing, or her power, or her role in the kingdom. We actually don’t know what Maleficent’s deal is. Maybe by not inviting her to the christening the kingdom has broken some important Rule of hers. Or maybe she’s just torturing people because she’s bored, and this is a fun Project. (That is her plan with Phillip after all, and this image will ALSO always haunt me.)

But either way, she’s a Bird primary. The only question is if she’s more of a System-Building Bird, or a Project Bird. 

Unusually for such a cold villain, I think I want to give her a Lion secondary. She’s patient, and her plans take place over long time-frames, but the plans themselves are direct - “When your daughter turns sixteen, I will kill her.” Done. Also, when Maleficent is threatened, she turns into a giant dragon who certainly does not plan, and her goons (while useless) are very loyal. So another point for Inspirational secondary.

CRUELLA DE VIL (1961) - LION / LION

Cruella wants a coat made out of Dalmatian puppies. That’s  it. So I'm putting her in the same category as Hannibal Lecter, someone doing this for the *art,*  the ~*~aesthetic~*~ of the thing. But unlike Hannibal, nothing about Cruella is cold or considered. I don’t think she’d be able to tell you why she wants that Dalmatian coat apart from “It’s fabulous, darling.” So instead of going Bird primary (the typical Weird Villain sorting) I’m saying she's a Lion. Cruella seems to have an aesthetic-based morality: "fabulous" and "non-fabulous," instead of "good" and "bad." She’s a Fay Lion primary, like Jack Sparrow.

Her secondary is harder. She definitely has goons, but they’re useless, and don’t seem to like her much. She doesn’t plot or face-change. She clearly likes Anita and doesn’t like Roger, and never bothers to mask this. Cruella first tries to buy the puppies - then sort of seems surprised when this doesn’t work? Honestly, the main impression I get from her is that she’s… not trying very hard. She only really starts to care right at the very end, when she’s driving with wild hair and crazy eyes, as her roadster falls apart around her. I’m going with Lion secondary to reflect that tendency she has to operate at either 1% or 100%.

MADAME MIM (1963) - LION / SNAKE

Madame Mim has a sort of a professional rivalry going on with Merlin, and dislikes when Wart calls him “the greatest wizard in the land.” So of course she challenges him to a wizard duel. She wants to be the best, she wants to win… and that’s all there is to it. So we have another Glory Hound Lion primary. 

It’s very clear that Madame Mim loves transformation. She switches between her different faces as many times as she possibly can over the course of a single conversation. Notably, she has a sexy version of herself that she uses to charm people into doing what she wants… and there’s no reason she couldn’t wear that all the time. But she doesn’t want to. Mim gets a lot of joy out of her fluid Snake secondary, and when she’s not solving a problem she just wants to chill out in Neutral. 

PRINCE JOHN (1973) - EXPLODED SNAKE / BIRD

Prince John’s motivation has a couple of  layers. Obviously, he’s a *little* bit too excited about taxing on the citizens of Nottingham… but that’s because he’s overcompensating. His main visual design element is a crown that doesn’t fit. He’s not King John, he's Prince John, only in charge until his other (better) brother Richard comes home from the Crusades. That’s why he’s so easily flattered - he’s incredibly insecure. But his conflict isn't with Richard, exactly. It’s really... mommy issues. Everything John does is to please Mummy (an off screen-character.) Very Exploded Snake primary. 

Secondary is hard because John is incompetent. He mostly solves problems by pointing the Sheriff of Nottingham at them. It’s a running joke that he doesn’t actually listen to his advisor Sir Hiss, who generally has the right idea but isn't a suck-up. I guess John does lay kind of sophisticated traps for Robin Hood?  They don’t work, but the intent at least is Bird. So I guess I would have to go with that - a pretty incompetent Bird secondary. 

PROFESSOR RATIGAN (1986) - BURNT SNAKE / BIRD

Unlike Madame Mim and Merlin, whatever Basil of Baker Street and Ratigan have going on does not feel like a professional rivalry. Technically Ratigan is plotting a coup… but he spends approximately 85% of his on-screen time entirely focused on Basil. They are at least ex-friends who now hate each other (and it’s really easy to read them as straight-up bitter exes.) Even his hatred of being called a “rat” seems to be linked to Basil - that's an insult Basil uses, implying that Ratigan is motivated by hedonism and ego, and not by the purity of the puzzle the way that Bird Primary Basil is. Really, he’s criticizing Ratigan for having a Snake primary motivation. 

Ratigan is very obviously a very loud Bird secondary. He loves lists, he loves Rube-Goldberg devices. He’s based off Professor Moriarty, it's Snake Bird all the way down.

URSULA THE SEA WITCH (1989) - SNAKE / BIRD

So Ursula wants to take over, be the new monarch of the sea… which is usually a Glory Hound Lion motivation. But there's the implication the she's doing this to specifically screw over Triton... which would make her more of a Snake. Ursula also has a *very* hedonistic approach to life, something you often see in Snake primaries with small circles. It's just her and her “babies," the eels Flotsam and Jetsam. He eels also seem very emotionally important to her, as far as villain minions go. This could be another example of Snake primary loyalty.

I don't know, I just think a Lion primary Ursula would be angrier, more of a Scar. She’s doing her own thing, and makes use of an opportunity that falls into her lap. This is structurally a story about King Triton (who has the big emotional arc and the most character change) so it makes sense that she is specifically a Triton villain, and Ariel was just unlucky enough to get in the way.

I'm actually going to say Bird secondary for Ursula. I agree that she gives off Snake secondary *vibes,* and absolutely might model or perform it for fun. But the way she wins over Ariel is by spouting facts very fast and very confidently, then getting her to sign a bad contract - it’s a Corrupt Lawyer beat more than anything. Vanessa, Ursula's alternate form, is more an Actor Bird transformation (Wicked Queen style) and less a Snake secondary playing around (Madame Mim style.) Vanessa is Ursula's version of Ariel - she even speaks with Ariel's voice. That's a Bird secondary approach. When Ursula‘s plans start falling apart, she doesn't pivot. She starts looking very Lion secondary - exactly like Bird secondary Ariel does when she’s overwhelmed.

Tl;dr 

Double Lion -  Queen of Hearts, Cruella De Vil

Lion Snake - Madame Mim

Snake Bird - Prince John, Professor Ratigan, Ursula

Snake Badger - Wicked Stepmother

Badger Snake - Captain Hook

Badger Bird - Evil Queen

Bird Lion - Maleficent

[eliayaselovebot]

The absolute whiplash I got from FANTASY LIFE 2 then PROFESSOR LAYTON and then, just to keep me on my toes, MATTHEW MERCER AS (potentially) GANONDORF IN THE NEW ZELDA GAME??? All this in the span of, like, five minutes?

…Needless to say, I liked this Nintendo Direct a lot.

[wisteriavines]

Hey.. if you are taking prompts, here’s my HP one:

Harmione/Harmony Drabble(with Alive!Jily in background): “Mom! Dad! I’m in love!” Harry said, enthusiastically.

Hey, Anon! I’ve never thought about taking prompts and/or writing something for them, but this is a new experience and I was really excited to give it a try! So, thank you!!

I’m not a big Harry Potter writer or fan, so hope you enjoy this little thing! It’s probably not exactly what you were asking/looking for.

Lily groans as James and Sirius break out into laughter next to her. Remus sighs, an amused smug grin betraying him as he sips on his tea.

“A week,” Lily laments to Remus, “I thought for sure it’d be at least a month before he barges in my office, yelling for all to hear, about being in love.”

Remus snorts. “Still better than the single day it took James.”

Lily scoffs but doesn’t deny it. She’d probably strangle Sirius if he was the one to actually win the bet. Better to lose to Remus than either of the other two.

Still, it’s a bit disappointing to know all those lectures and moral story-tellings she gave her son have only held him off for a week. But what else could she have expected. He is a Potter.

Hopefully, Harry will remember her other lectures and not bombard the poor one that’s caught his eye and heart with dramatics as his father did. At least being a professor will allow her to keep a close eye on him (and observe the one he’s fallen for. He’s still her son; she has to be sure that whoever the witch - or wizard! - is that they’re even a bit good enough for him).

With some good natured grumbling, she hands off the agreed upon winnings. Remus takes them with a polite, but cheeky, thanks.

James and Sirius have moved on from laughter to celebration in the background.

Temporarily forgotten in the moment, Harry flushes red; thoroughly embarrassed by his family’s antics. Merlin, Hermione will never think he’s cool if she saw this.

[grailwishes]

new character tags ( blorbos first ) ^-^

📖  *  guinevere pendragon.   ‣  queen of camelot.

📖  *  cassandra of troy.   ‣  princess prophetess.

📖  *  helen of sparta.   ‣  the most beautiful woman.

📖  *  maid marian / william scarlet.   ‣  lady of the merry men.

📖  *  saito momoka.   ‣  wisteria & peaches.

📖  *  yuuki cupid saito.   ‣  last hope of humanity.

📖  *  percival.   ‣  the dove knight.

📖  *  gawain.   ‣  knight of the sun.

📖  *  agravain.   ‣  knight of iron.

📖  *  sieg.   ‣  balmung's heir.

📖  *  siegfried.   ‣  dragon slayer.

📖  *  emiya shirou.   ‣  hero of justice.

📖  *  cú chulainn / sétanta.   ‣  hero of ulster.

📖  *  fiore forvedge.   ‣  yggdmillennia's true talent.

📖  *  jeanne d'arc.   ‣  holy maiden.

📖  *  rama.   ‣  brahmastra.

📖  *  asterios.   ‣  chaos labyrinth.

📖  *  nursery rhyme.   ‣  born of fairytales.

📖  *  bazett fraga mcremitz.   ‣  god's holder.

📖  *  waver velvet / lord el-melloi II.   ‣  cringefail professor.

📖  *  grey.   ‣  grave for you.

📖  *  charlemagne.   ‣  joyeuse ordre.

📖  *  name.   ‣  tag.

[chvoswxtch]

hello! I hope ur having a good day! I have a request if you’re up to it! we’ve always had Professor matt so to spice things up can we have a college!matt x professor!reader? he’s actively trying to gain the pretty professor’s attention and she’s slowly falling for it. you can make it fluffy or spicy or smutty. its all up to you!

hi nonnie!

I hope you're having a good day as well! I genuinely loved this idea bc we all know matty is a flirt but I feel like college!matty is a HUGE flirt and would totally go after the pretty professor. and honestly, she would eat that shit up, let's be real. but who wouldn't???

thank you so much for the request! ❤️

warning: contains mentions of sexual content (minors please dni), swearing word count: 3k

office hours.

When Matt was reminded by his advisor that he needed to take a literature course to satisfy his degree plan, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. He had been continuously putting it off, but with one final semester left of undergrad, he couldn’t graduate without it. It wasn’t that Matt didn’t enjoy reading, he simply just wasn’t interested in taking anything that didn’t have to do with his program. He’d read enough “classic literature” and written enough analysis essays in high school, and he wasn’t looking forward to going through that agonizing process again. Reluctantly, he signed up for the last course available.

Taking a seat in the very back of the small classroom, Matt set up his laptop and plugged an earbud into his ear, prepared to appear engaged while he got started on a project for another class. All around him seats filled up with other students, but it wasn’t until he caught the sweet scent of pink grapefruit and blue wisteria that his fingers stilled over his keyboard. He turned his head slightly to the side towards the wall as the scent rushed down the hall, accompanied by a racing heartbeat. Matt’s head snapped towards the front when you walked through the classroom door slightly out of breath, heat in your cheeks from the run, and also a twinge of embarrassment. 

“Probably not the best first impression to be late on the first day of class, but in my defense, I’m still learning how to navigate New York. I can’t promise I won’t be late again, so we won’t be counting tardies in this class, to a reasonable limit.”

An anxious giggle left your lips, and luckily everyone seemed to find the humor in your admission. Matt’s lips parted slightly at the sound, and he quickly ripped the earbud out of his ear as you introduced yourself.

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please call me Y/N. This is my first year teaching, and you guys are my second class, so we’re figuring this all out together.”

Another timid giggle left your lips, and Matt clenched his fist tightly as the sound settled in his ears. 

“I don’t expect perfection, I just want you guys to do your best. We aren’t reading things some arrogant ‘expert’ decided was a classic, or writing mind numbing papers identifying every literary device to prove you know what they are. I want to show you works that move you and make you think…make you feel. And I want to know what they make you think, and how they make you feel. The only way to fail this class is to not try.”

God your voice. It was as sweet as your perfume and had a velvet cadence that stuck to Matt’s ears like honey. He wanted to listen to you talk for hours, about anything. Your heart continued to beat wildly in your chest throughout the duration of class, and you fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you paced slowly around. You were incredibly nervous. Matt could feel it in the tremble of your fingers, hear it in the slight shake of your voice, and feel it in the rush of blood that never left your cheeks. He found it endearing that you were so anxious, and could hear how passionate you were in the way you spoke. Everything about you drew him in, and before he could stop himself, he was marching up to your desk once everyone filed out of the room to introduce himself.

“Excuse me? Hi, my name is-”

“Matthew Murdock, right?”

Matt abruptly paused, and he swallowed the sound that threatened to come out of his mouth at the way you said his name.

“J-just Matt, uh…yeah.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Y/N.”

Your hand was so soft and small clasped in his own, and he could faintly smell the scent of blackberry from a lotion you’d smoothed over your body the previous evening. 

“It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“You have perfect timing, I was actually just about to come to you.”

Matt’s ears perked up at that, and he stood up a little straighter, already missing your touch as you slowly let go of his hand.

“You were?”

“Yeah, this is for you.”

You lightly wrapped your fingers around his wrist, carefully guiding his hand to a folder that you had outstretched in your hand. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly as he let his fingers glide over the folder, pausing as they ran over a braille label that had his name on it. Taking the folder into his hands, he opened it to find stacks of paper in braille on the inside.

“It’s the syllabus, a list of the works we’re studying, and the first section of notes we’re going to go over. I wasn’t sure if you were able to access the digital copies. I’m still trying to figure out how the portal works, honestly.”

There was a timid smile that stretched across your mouth, and Matt could hear a slight bit of nerves in your confession. For a moment he was stunned silent by the kind gesture, swallowing thickly as he closed the folder and offered you a small smile in return.

“I-uh…yeah, I was able to. But um…I-thank you. For this, I uh…I appreciate it.”

“Of course. I like to have tangible copies of things, myself. Helps keep me organized. Or, at least I think it does. Maybe it’s a sensory thing and I’m just tricking myself into thinking it’s making me more productive.”

Matt couldn’t help but chuckle as you giggled softly, nodding his head in agreement.

“I can understand that.”

“Well if there’s ever anything you need, any help or accommodations at all, please don’t hesitate to tell me. All my information is on the syllabus, and I practically live here since I never go home, so my office is always open.”

“Good to know.”

From that day forward, Matt sat in the front row for every single class. He blitzed through every single text on the syllabus, always prepared to participate in the discussions, and approached every assignment early. He wanted so badly to impress you, and his chest swelled with pride every time you complimented one of his thoughts or ideas, or stayed behind after class to offer your positive verbal feedback on one of his assignments. 

Matt knew he wasn’t the only one that wanted the pretty, young professor’s attention. He could hear the way the other students in class talked about you, which caused a tide of possessiveness to rise in his chest. Matt could also feel your affect on them as you smiled in their direction, or offered a compliment to one of their remarks, and it made jealousy simmer in his bloodstream. He was determined to be your favorite.

He found himself constantly stopping by your office hours to feign needing help or a second opinion on his approach to a paper, mainly as an excuse to talk to you alone, but also to scratch that itch of praise when you confirmed he was on the right track. Matt knew he was smart, and he knew he wrote incredible papers, but he liked hearing that come from you. 

He loved when you complimented his intelligence. Was it wrong to fake being unsure just to hear you say, “That’s exactly right, Matt” or “I hadn’t even thought of it that way, but I love that idea”? Probably. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt good.

Matt had to be careful playing dumb. You both knew he was smart, so he had to switch his tactics up. He found himself asking for other recommendations for reading material from you, wanting to know what your favorite works were, going out to buy them and consume them just to get a glimpse into your head, and then listen to the passion in your voice as you explained why they meant so much to you. He liked that you asked him questions too, questions he didn’t hear you ask any of the others when they stopped by. You asked him about how his other classes were going, how his day had been, about himself and his friends, and he could tell you genuinely cared about the answers. Every second he spent with you, he felt the crush he had on you getting stronger and stronger. He knew the way he felt about you was wrong. You were his professor, and he shouldn’t be having the thoughts about you that he did.

He shouldn’t feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest every time you smiled in his direction and showered his mind in praise. He shouldn’t feel the spark of something more when you let him hold your arm as you guided him towards your office, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin beneath his fingertips. He shouldn’t stroke his cock to the sound of your voice from a recorded lecture, waiting to let himself come until it got to the part of the recording where you said his name so sweetly. He shouldn’t be waking up with a wet patch on his sweats after yet another wet dream about fucking you over your desk. All of this was wrong, and the good Catholic boy in him knew that.

But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Because every time he started to feel guilty about what he was doing, he reminded himself of the way your body reacted to him.

Matt was careful with his flirting, crafting his sentences in a way that could be played off as casual conversation or banter, but riddled with undertones that could only be understood by the person given the cipher. The blood that rushed into your cheeks when Matt complimented you back or said something teasing that made you giggle only fueled his confidence to get bolder and bolder as the weeks went by. 

He heard the uptick in your heart rate when he mentioned how soothing he found your voice, and the way it pounded beneath your ribs when he “accidentally” brushed his hand over your exposed thigh to reach for his backpack. He felt the warmth that pooled in your cheeks when he stopped by with your favorite coffee, and when he confessed that you were one of the best professor’s he’d ever had; definitely “his favorite”, he had said. He should’ve felt bad that he could possibly ruin a career that you were clearly very passionate about, but the selfish part of his brain was screaming that you felt it too. 

With spring break approaching soon, and the thought of going a whole week without being around you, Matt devised a plan to finally make you his.

The building was empty considering most professors and students had left the previous day to get a head start on vacation plans, but Matt smiled to himself hearing your familiar heartbeat coming from your office. You had made class today optional, in case anyone was traveling or needed the break, and Matt had hoped that he would’ve been the only one to show up. To his disappointment, about half the class was there, but he knew he would get you alone soon enough. Matt waited until your office hours were just about to end, in case any other student had some last minute question, and when he was certain that it was just the two of you alone, he raised his knuckles to knock softly on the worn wood of your open door.

A quiet gasp left your lips, clearly surprised by the company, and Matt had to stop the cocky smirk that threatened to take over his mouth at the way your heart started to beat faster noticing his presence.

“Matt, hey.”

“Hey. I didn’t miss your office hours, did I?”

“Uh…nope. You have exactly a minute.”

Matt’s mouth split into a wide toothy grin at the playful tone in your voice, chuckling as he followed the familiar path from the door to the chair that was directly in front of your desk.

“Well, I’ll make this quick then. I know you have very important spring break plans to get to.”

“Oh yeah. Super important. I mean, my takeout isn’t gonna order itself.”

Matt dropped his backpack on the right side of the chair, folding up his cane as he sank back into the plush cushion and tossed it down by his feet. He pulled off his glasses and set them on your desk, a habit he had gotten into since you’d let it slip that you preferred it when he didn’t wear them.

I feel like you hide behind those, sometimes. It’s nice to get to see all of you, Matt.

His tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips as he fixed his gaze in your direction, a timid smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I actually need to ask a favor of you.”

“Of course, Matt. Whatever you need. What can I do?”

Matt gripped onto his own thigh to steady himself, your immediate response and sweet voice hitting his cock before they even reached his ears. His lips parted slightly when you sat up a little straighter in your chair, leaning in closer over your desk with a warm smile on your lips.

“I need a letter of recommendation for the law program.”

“And you’re asking me?”

Matt couldn’t help but laugh at the surprised tone of your voice, shaking his head slowly as he leaned in closer to your desk and rested his elbows on the surface.

“I already have a few from my other professors, but my advisor mentioned having one from a professor outside of my main area of study would make me seem more…well rounded.”

Matt should’ve felt horrible about lying. He didn’t actually need a letter of recommendation from you. He’d applied to the law program months ago, and had already gotten in, but he would confess that later.

“Mm, so I’m next in line to make you look good?”

“Well, you are my favorite, and you have a way of making everything sound beautiful. If I’d taken your class a long time ago like I was supposed to, I probably would’ve asked you first before anyone else.”

Matt didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath you took, or the way your face instantly became a few degrees warmer.

“You wouldn’t have been able to take my class earlier, Matt. This is my first year, remember? You would’ve been stuck with someone else.”

“I guess I forget sometimes because you’re so good at this. But, that’s true. I don’t think I would’ve liked who I got stuck with as much as I like you. I’m glad I waited for you.”

Matt did his best to stay calm as he heard you swallow thickly, your breathing becoming a little more shallow as your heart rate drummed loudly in his ears.

“That’s…really nice of you to say, Matt-”

“I mean it.”

A blanket of tension suddenly surrounded the two of you, and his lips parted slightly as he caught a faint shudder course through you. Your fingers clutched the hem of your dress where it settled high on your thighs, digging your nails lightly into your palms through the fabric. Matt was waiting for your body to give him a signal, indisputable proof that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, before he crossed that line the two of you had been dancing around.

“Um…when do you need it by?”

“The earlier the better, I’m a little behind. But, take your time. I’d like this to be as…real and honest as possible.”

“I…um…I can have it ready for you by the time we come back from spring break.”

“That’s perfect, thank you. I really appreciate you doing this for me. I appreciate everything that you do for me, truly.”

“O-of course. It’s my job, Matt.”

Matt’s voice dropped an octave lower as he cocked his head to the side slightly, running his tongue along his bottom lip before the corner of his mouth curled upwards into a devilish smirk. 

“No. I think it’s more than that.”

Bingo.

The second he felt you press your thighs together under the desk and the enticing scent of your arousal hit his nose, Matt knew he had you. He rose from the chair steadily, gliding around the side of your desk slowly like a predator circling in on its prey, grabbing onto the sides of your chair as he bent over so that your faces were merely an inch apart.

“I think you know that too, sweetheart.”

“Matt-”

“I think if I put my hand between these pretty thighs, you’d be just as wet for me as I am hard for you.”

A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you sank back further into your chair, fighting the urge to spread your thighs to let Matt test his own theory, and averting your gaze from the prominent bulge in his jeans. 

“We can’t-”

Matt lightly grasped your chin in his hand as he forced you to look at him. He delicately traced his thumb along your bottom lip, leaning in ever so slightly to bump his nose against yours as he inhaled your scent deeply.

“You’ve done so much for me. Been so good to me, sweetheart. Shown me so much kindness. I’d like to repay that kindness, and show you how much I appreciate you. You gonna let me do that?”

A soft whine of desperation sounded in your throat, and a huge grin split across Matt’s mouth as you leaned further into his touch. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

“Yes you are. Because you’re my girl. My good girl.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[aliavian]

My new RWBY “ChibiCFVY” Short is out! ☺️❤️

Professor Ozpin hires a Substitute Huntsman to give a lecture at Beacon Academy. Unfortunately for the class, Mr. Garvey can’t seem to get anyone’s names right during attendance. 😂

This is a parody of Key & Peele’s “Substitute Teacher” skit! (If you haven’t seen that before, I definitely suggest checking out that original video!)

As always, special shout-out to all the amazing voice volunteers who helped bring this video to life! Make sure to give them all lots of love by watching the credits in the video and check out their Twitter(X) profiles! Also major shout-out to all my amazing monthly “Overly Caffeinated” Ko-Fi Members! Your support means SO much ! ❤️

Follow me on Instagram, Twitter(X), TikTok, and Ko-Fi for more #ChibiCFVY, RWBY fan art, cartoons, comics, cosplay, and more!

Assembled and Illustrated by me @ AliAvian

Professor Ozpin- @ Lucky Tremendous VA

Mr. Garvey- @ JCVibrant

Weiss Schnee - @ Silent Wisteria VA

Blake Belladonna - @ Lavender Rare

Lie Ren- @ DrPlagueFellow

Fox Alistair - @ NektisNoir

Yatsuhashi Daichi- @ Caleb VA

Ruby Rose- @ Pink Sunshine Cosplays

Credits Music by Eloisio Michalski

Characters belong to Rooster Teeth & Viz Media, and Key & Peele.

[sweetpeterparker]

criminal minds- fics recommendation ✯

spencer reid

twisted (series) (@dreamwritesimagines )

→spencer reid x serial killer daughter! reader/ i absolutely loved this and couldn't stop reading

reiding-writing's s.reid masterlist (@reiding-writing )

→love everything they post, specially cold!reader and unsub!reader series

clue (@pathologicalreid )

→spencer reid x journalist!reader. i loved this!! feels so much similar to the movie and so fun

spencer reid x youtuber!reader (series) (@anothermansjeans )

→love this series so much!!

you were like an angel to me (@januaryembrs )

→post prison!spencer reid x sunshine!bau!reader. love this!! one of my favs rn

flu shot (@unholyobsessions )

→spencer reid x reader tw: flu shot

instagram pov (@hotchaways )

→spencer reid x reader

secret life (@radiant-reid )

→spencer reid x reader tw: tiniest mention of insecurities

swooping in (@radiant-reid )

→spencer reid x reader tw: alcohol consumption

lover (@nycreid )

→spencer reid x popstar!reader. the swiftie in me died. dead. rip me

wisteria (@boldlyvoid )

→spencer reid x single mom!reader tw: mentions of kidnapping and murder, cheating

an inconvenient affection (@differentkettleoffishalltogether ) (unfinished)

→spencer reid x reader tw:adult themes, stalking, alcohol consumption

the in-betweens (@fandom-imagines-stories ) (2 seasons complete- series)

→spencer reid x reader tw: trauma, violence

if you love her (@girl-next-door-writes )

→spencer reid x reader (secret relationship)

is this your card? (@inkedobsidian )

→spencer reid x reader

a well-kept secret (@astrophileous )

→spencer reid x reader im a sucker for secret relationships so this is all i need

girls can't drive (@dream-a-little-bigger-x )

→spencer reid x reader / tw: sexual assalt/harassment

memoriam (@dream-a-little-bigger-x )

→spencer reid x reader/ best friends to lovers/ tw: talk of murder/pedophilia

love story (@boldlyvoid )

→spencer reid x swiftie!reader/ spencer being the best bf ever

pretend bf (@reidsprentiss22 )

→spencer reid x fem!reader / tw: creepy guy

so happy together (@babymetaldoll )

→spencer reid x reader/ fake dating/ friends to lovers

soulmates, myths, philosophers and invisible strings (@leahblackk )

→professor!spencer reid x professor!reader/ inspired by invisible string by taylor swift

that i know (series) (@idmakeitbehave )

→spencer reid x reader/ tw: memory loss

BFF (@babymetaldoll )

→spencer reid x fem! reader/ bff reunion after 12 years apart

i love you? (@reidreaders )

→spencer reid x reader

it's a date (@sincerelybubbles )

→spencer reid x reader. so cute!!

peace (@velvetm00light)

→spencer reid x reader. so adorable

aaron hotchner

something more (@headkiss )

→aaron hotchner x bau!reader. one of my fav hotch pieces ever!! so incredible

delicate (@honeypiehotchner )

→aaron hotchner x reader tw: age gap, alcohol consumption, harassment

snippets of our life (@hotch-stufff )

→aaron hotchner x reid!reader tw: injuries, gunshot, child death, birth

quality time ( @specialagentlokitty )

→aaron hotchner x peralta!reader a criminal minds/ brooklyn 99 crossover is all a girl needs

you're hotch's favorite (@rramblingreid )

→aaron hotchner x bau!reader

ask (@happiest-hotch )

→aaron hotchner x reader. based on my request!! loved it

derek morgan

stay stay stay (@blushingbucky )

→derek morgan x reader (inspired by taylor swift) tw: arguing

the first time (@specialagentlokitty )

→derek morgan x reader

begin again (@imaginesfordifferentfandoms )

→derek morgan x reader. based on 'begin again' by taylor swift

(if you are not comfortable being tagged here, please message me so i can edit this<3)

[slytherinprincesses17]

Part 1:The boy who flew too close to the sun and the girl who was made of sunlight

Summary: The part where Draco decides if you are the sun, then he must be Icarus

Author Note: Hello Everyone, This is my 1st Draco work! I'm very excited to share with you all, this takes pace in 4th year through 6th. I was inspired by Greek Mythology as well as Vincent Lima's EP Versions of Uncertainty. Reader is Terence Higgs, younger sister though it is not mentioned much in this one. Pure blood and one of the sacred 28 families. This going to be multiple parts! Im thinking maybe 4/5 !!

Please leave your feedback and comments!!

-K🍄

______________________________________________Draco Malfoy had known Y/N Higgs since childhood. His mother and yours were close from their Hogwarts years. So, you could often be seen frolicking throughout the manor. He recalls you picking flowers and handing them to the house-elves. Chasing butterflies. Lying about in the grassy hills, always under the blooming wisteria trees. Draco always felt drawn to you. Like spring after winter, you warmed those around you. He was no exception.

You murmured "Draco..." as you lounged in the garden one afternoon. As the brilliant blonde sat next to you with a Quidditch magazine in hand.

"Mhmm…" his head turned to you before he could think… like a sunflower to the sun, you commanded his attention.

“Will we be friends next year?” you inquired with a tilted head, fingers plucking at the blades of grass. You avoided his gaze, afraid of the blunt boy's answer. 

"Of course y/n, don’t be silly…. my mother's anger would erupt if I showed you any disrespect." Draco spoke in a flat tone.

He wanted to escape this moment, afraid you would see through him. That you would see it was he who disapproved of your exit from his life's circle.

“Even if I’m not a Slytherin?” you inquired, your voice tinged with melancholy, eyes narrowed.

"Of course, sunshine..." He said softly returning to his pages, looking up out of the corner of his eye at you. You had a matching rosy tint and a smile. 

“Good… That’s good,” you said softly.

To tell the truth, Draco thought you would never become a Slytherin. Simply because it wasn't in your nature. You are ambition and cleverness have always been present, but never cruelty. You were cunning and crafty, but never at anyone's expense. You were smart beyond measure, like a Ravenclaw. Kind and loyal, as they could come, like a Hufflepuff. And hard-headed and brave, like a Gryffindor. Yet he found himself corrected that 1st year at Hogwarts as you sat beside him in your green tie and beaming smile. Draco had never been more relieved to have been wrong.

From then on, everyone knew you, Y/N Higgs. You stood out as a remarkable Slytherin, distinct from the others. Walking with a gracefulness that compelled those around to turn their heads. Spending time showing 1st years around and volunteering in the Hospital wing. Even helping Hagrid with the magical creature care. You held friends in all the houses. Everyone would say you were uncharacteristically nice for a snake....

Draco always wondered. How could a pure-blood Slytherin, raised under the same pressures as him, be so kind? Still, you stayed close to one another. You kept your promise to be friends until one cold winter day in 4th-year during potions...

"You will work on this essay in pairs, and it will account for a significant portion of your final grade.”  Professor Snape droned on, explaining the assignment.

"I have preassigned your partnerships and will hear no griping or groaning about said matters. If you cannot work together, write your own 6 parchments on the effects and magical uses of a bezoar. These partnerships are absolutely final. Due Monday.” Snape said in his dreary, disinterested tone.

"Now…" Snape began to read off the pairs.

"Grander and Parkinson"

"Potter and Parvati"

"Zambini and Longbottom"

"Granger and Goyle"

"Malfoy and Higgs"

"Weasley and Finnigan."

Draco's doodling stopped at the sound of his name. Professor Snape was continuing down his list, leaving no room for complaints. As you plopped down next to him, your feet shuffled about. The scent of honey and wisteria filled his nose; you always smelled like home to him.

"Hello, Draco! How lovely… it’s like our summer studies at the Manor," you beamed, unpacking your quill and ink.

Draco nodded and returned a soft smile that was only reserved for you. 

"Not even our summer studies are this extensive. Leave it to Snape to dampen the weekend before the Yule Ball." You huffed out, defeated.

"About the Yule ball…..” Draco trailed off as you turned to look at him with hopeful, wide eyes.

"Who gets the pleasure of being your date for the evening?” he asked, his gaze slanting towards you, his breath suspended in anticipation. 

You see, over the years, Draco has grown fond of you as you have of him. Both too comfortable in your normal to risk something so dear, so both stood still. Suspended in the friend zone until he heard news that someone asked you to the ball. Lighting a newfound fire underneath him. He couldn't resist taking that leap, determined not to let the opportunity slip away.

"I was hoping you would’ve asked me by now, Draco. Though I take it you're opting for Parkinson.” You made a face when referring to Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin with a crush on the Malfoy boy.

He let out a gentle laugh in amusement. He cherished the moments your envious Slytherin persona emerged.

"No. No. No. I'm not attending with Pansy. I heard through the gossip vine that the champion asked you himself: Cedric Diggory, is it?" He grimaced at the name. From the start of the year, it was known that he fancied you.

But who didn't? You were a dream come to life. You were kind and smart, second only to Hermione. Yet, you never dated. You never agreed to Hogsmeade dates or study sessions with anyone. That includes Oliver Wood, Cedric Diggory, and even Saint Potter. No one knew why. But you did. If you never agreed, you'd find Draco next to you in the library, or arm in arm on Hogsmeade weekends. So why agree when your heart was already so full?

You declared, "He did, but I turned him down." You shrugged, refocusing on your homework. The air around your desk grew heavy as you huffed out a breath of frustration.  

You adored Draco. The parts of him reserved for you were warm and soft. He looked out for you and was always there. Waiting since the announcement of the Yule Ball for Draco to ask you, turning down everyone who wasn't him. You knew he was a bloody coward, even considering asking him yourself a few times. All you needed was confirmation. Reassurance that it wasn't only you who found yourself wanting more.

"Since we cleared the air and I'm not going with Parkinson, you're not going with Diggory. Shall I save you the embarrassment of attending alone?" He flashed a playful grin.

"Save me the embarrassment? No. No. No. Mr. Malfoy, you forget yourself. I have a line of willing suitors waiting for me." You laughed, noticing Draco's slight annoyance.

"Let me save you the ghastly displeasure of having Parkinson be your last resort... Of course, I'll go with you, Draco; why do you think I turned down the future Triwizard champion?" You gave him a sidelong glance. "I was waiting for your daft arse."

Draco's lips curved upward in a subtle grin of admiration at your boldness.

" Well, thank you for waiting for me to catch on... It is a pleasure to be on the arm of such a lady."

You shared a warm smile with him before resuming your tasks. A new excitement and giddiness filled you both. 

__________

The following evening, you found yourselves in the library. Draco occupied the seat opposite yours. Surrounded by dim candlelight, open textbooks, and the smell of fresh ink in the air. You both discussed what colors to wear to the Yule ball and the Potions assignment. Which reminded you to write to your mother about the recent development. Both mothers grew anxious as they awaited news of your companions for the ball. They had hoped it would be each other after all. It was Narcissa Malfoy and Beatrice Higgs who watched all those summers. As childhood friendship bloomed into something only mothers could sense.

As the sunset and talk faded, you whispered, looking up at him through your long lashes.

"What do you wish to be when school is over?”

Draco set his quill aside, gazing at you with introspective eyes as he pondered the question.

“I know Father wishes for me to take a prominent position in the Ministry someday.” He muttered, shrugging his shoulders. "You know, following after him and all."

"No, no, no... what do you, Draco Malfoy, wish to be? Parents be damned!" You shook your head in disapproval and reached for his hand.

He let out a low, amused laugh and curved his lips upward. "A potions master, maybe an astronomer," he whispered, placing his icy hand on yours. You smiled back.

"I wish to be a healer, maybe a teacher. My parents likely want me to marry, and that would be the end of it." You huffed, your cheek resting in your palm.

“Parents be damned ….” Whispered Draco, tightening his grasp on your hand.

With soft smiles, hours passed and homework gave way to chat. The air was fresh and electric around you both. A want... no, more like a compulsive need to touch and be close grew and grew. As you worked through the weekend together in your safe little cove of the library. Transitioning from opposite each other to shoulder-to-shoulder. Any space between you both was too much.

___________

The Yule ball night arrived suddenly. As Draco found himself standing at the bottom of the long stairs in front of the great hall with Theo and Blaise. All anxiously awaiting their dates to descend the stairs… all minus Theo. Nothing could have readied Draco for the stunning sight of you in candlelight. Your dark blue dress and gold accents shone like the stars that made the constellation….

You descended the stairs grasping tightly to Draco's outstretched hand. Everyone faded away as he drew near, his gaze locked on you. When you finally reach him, he spins you around to savor every angle, embracing you tightly.

"Wow, Higgs, I knew you would clean up exquisitely."

Theo Knott, the endless flirt, spoke. Breaking your gaze with Draco and ruining the moment. The blonde boy shot a piercing stare at Theo, who responded with a sly wink. 

“Thank you, Theo… you’re too kind." Your face flushed; you dipped your head in embarrassment.

"Lucky man, Malfoy." he said, still gazing at your glory as you stood, arm locked with Malfoy by your side.

"I know, Knott … by the way, don’t you have a floor of single women to save from a night of heartbreak versus harassing my date?” Draco spat with no real malice toward the Knott boy.

"Did you come alone, Theo?” you said, confused.

"Don't waste your pity on him Y/N… he chose to come alone on purpose," Blaise said, laughing. "It's all part of his grand plan to woo the hearts of many."

"Exactly correct... because why limit oneself to one date when one can save many from a night of loneliness?" Theo said rather proud of himself "Although, if you were my one date, Higgs... I'd accept the burden." He smirked.

Draco pulled you closer into his arms as he swung at Theo playfully, shoving him away. As you rolled your eyes at the boy's antics. 

Lorenzo Berkshire appeared from behind Draco, quickly taking your hand from his cousin’s grasp and spinning you in a circle.

“ My goodness, you are a sight Y/N” Enzo said laughing softly

“ Enzo, you are too kind” you stated slightly dizzy steading yourself with your to his chest and a smile

“ This is not flirting with my date hour…” Draco huffs in annoyance as he once again pulls you towards him tucking you under his arm tightly. You smile at him softly patting his chest in reassurance.

"And who is the lucky girl gracing your arm tonight, Blaise?" you asked, changing the topic.

“You mean unlucky… very unlucky, y/n," Theo added with a laugh.

Daphne Greengrass your best friend appears looking like a fairy princess in her dark green and silver gown.

“ That unlucky girl would be me…” She says shooting a glare at Theo “ And at least we have dates” she stick her tongue out in touché

The last of your group trickle in, complimenting one other and filling the area with small talk.

Soon Draco’s hand finds your waist as he leaned over and whispered in your ear too distracted by his breath on your neck to listen to Enzo speak anymore. You turn your attention fully to the Prince of the hour.

"Shall we find ourselves a spot inside Sunshine?" he whispered, only for you, against the shell of your ear. It caused goosebumps to travel up your body.

"Lead the way, love….” You gazed, captivated by his timeless black tuxedo with blue highlights. He looked like he came from a fairytale. His regal appearance captivated you. 

You walked in through the large doors, arm in arm. Heads turned to see that the Slytherin Prince had won the fair maiden's heart. Yet, it surprised none. It was only a matter of time before the Slytherin Prince captured the princesses.

As you danced the night away with your friends. You suddenly weren't heirs to pureblood fortunes. You were nothing but dumb teenagers in love at a school dance. And it was there... in that moment, as his heart raced. Not from dancing, but from looking at you in the soft candlelight. He decided: if you were a flame, let him be a moth. If you were the sun, let him be Icarus.

Draco decided he would gladly face your light and fire. Fearing no consequences if it meant being wrapped in your warmth for a second longer. Let his wax wings melt and he be drowned in the ocean. Let him plummet from the sky ungracefully if it meant being with you. Because you.... made of sunlight and sugar, were worth it.

"I don't want this to end..." Draco's soft voice fought to be heard above the blaring band and laughter as you stood beside the punch bowl. 

You lifted your gaze from your cup and furrowed your brow in puzzlement. Was he referring to the song? The ball? The night?

“Say what you mean, Draco." you urged as you stared into his icy eyes that held a fire behind them.

“I mean this feeling, this … whatever this is. I enjoy who I am with you at this moment. I don't want it to end." His voice held a sense of sadness and fear, like after the music stopped and the night ended, that would be that.

You declare “ Then let’s be like this… always.” As you grasp his hand tightly and pull him into a kiss. He meets you halfway, kissing back effortlessly. He wraps one hand around your waist and the other in your hair. Passion and years of yearning found itself exchanged in the kiss.

As you broke apart, heavy breathing and foreheads touching, you chuckled at the cliché of it all.

"Shall we get out of here?" Draco's red, puffy lips spoke softly against yours.

And you could only nod as he took your hand out of the great hall, smiling and laughing. 

Running through the halls hand in hand, up the tall winding stairs to the astronomy tower. Stopping only to kiss each other for a few moments. It was there on the ledge. The very ledge that would later and forever change the course of your life, that Draco gazed at you.

"Y/N, my love…” he reached for your hand and began playing with your fingers as you both stood leaning on the rail.

"I am enamored by you. You roam my mind, unrestricted at will. I wonder endlessly about your happiness. I wonder if you dream of me. If you ate. If you're safe." he rambles like a madman.

You smile, rubbing your thumb against his hand as encouragement…

"Please do me the honor, sunshine, of being mine." He draws a long breath, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Oh Draco…. You whisper, "I've always been yours," before you lean in to brush your lips against his. He responds with a fervent kiss, hands around your waist, yours buried in his soft hair.

You spent another hour in the tower. Draco pointed out his favorite constellations between fevered bouts of making out. His suit jacket wrapped around you. It smelled of mahogany, fresh apples, fresh ink, and silver. Nothing but more time could have solidified the night as perfect.

"Your lips are turning blue, sunshine." Draco chuckled as his fingers caressed your winter-kissed cheeks. His hand felt like ice, so you enveloped it in yours, pressing your lips gently to his skin. The winter air was becoming too cold to ignore, signaling the end of the night.

"I guess we should be heading back then." You groaned, throwing your head back.

Draco's laughter burst out as he rose to his feet, bending to grasp and lift you upright. He enveloped you in his suit jacket, tucking you in tight and kissing your cheek lightly. Leaving a warmth in their place. You smiled.

Walking back to the common room down the tower steps, hand in hand, a newfound contentment hung in the air.

The rest of the year went by rather quickly. Between classes, you and Draco made time for each other. Enjoying Hogsmeade weekends and late nights sneaking off to the astronomy tower. It all felt too good to be true. Which as fate would have it was true... nothing good lasts long.

There you were in the stands of the third Triwizard task. Screams and cries filled the air. Draco hid your face in his chest, holding you close and tight. As you stare in shock at the body of the kindest boy you knew... tears slipped slowly down your face. Time dragged on, after Cedric's memorial with the buzz of grief and you-know-who on the rise. Static seemed to be in the air… like a drop of water about to fall into a still lake.

If only you knew then what hung in the stars for Draco and you. What darkness was at play and how far your Icarus was willing to fall for you, his sunshine. 

[daydream-cement]

Sweet Camellia

Larissa Weems x Teacher!Reader

Synopsis: A new botany teacher comes to Nevermore and bringing her charms. She whispers sweet nothings to her plants in German and they grow wildly for her. Will the Principal be able to resist her?

Authors Note: This is based off a prompt from @the-dorky-dame. Shorter than anticipated, but I love it. If my German translations suck, pls dm me and I will fix them. Song for this chapter would be any song from the album Dopamine by BORNS.

Larissa had been too busy with the start of the semester to even think about the hiring process for the new botany teacher. She relinquished that control to the board. One thing Larissa couldn’t deny is that her breath was taken away when she stepped into your office and saw you whispering softly to a plant with a brilliant white flower with many beautiful swirling petals.

She watched you for a long while from the doorway of your classroom. You were very focused on using your plant-based powers to generate a classroom of your dreams. Vines of honeysuckle, wisteria, and jasmine grew up the walls, filling the classroom with the scent of a sweet perfume.

“Wachst für mich, meine Kleinen…” You whisper, asking the young plants to branch out, resulting in more leaves and flowers. You grin at the sight, but you can feel eyes watching you now. You glance up at the woman who had graced your classroom, “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I came to introduce myself. I’m Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore Academy. I couldn’t be apart of the hiring process.” She explained, making her way to you as she spoke. You watched her look around the classroom, obviously noticing a change in the classroom decor. You didn’t have the same appreciation for carnivorous and deadly plants as the last professor. Your focus was the world of flowering plants.

“Y/n L/n. You’re new botany professor. Delightful to finally meet you.” You hold out a hand as she steps to you, you crane your neck to look to her. Her beauty rivaled that of the camellias that sat on your desk. Larissa could have sworn that she saw a spark in your eyes, like you were admiring her.

———

In the following weeks, Principal Weems visited you numerous times. You almost wondered if she visited other teachers this often. Sometimes she would tell you that she lost her copy of your lesson plans. Other times she wanted help with a new potted plant. Once she even came in to ask you her Weathervane order even though you emailed the font desk secretary your order hours before. You were beginning to think she may have ulterior motives for coming in to see you.

Larissa had been listening to you speak to your plants before she would make her presence known in your classroom. Today she was planning on trying to remember some of your words so she could look them up later. You were working with your baby pink camellias when Larissa came to visit you one morning. They loved when you doted on them, whispering sweet nothings as you cleaned up dead flowers and leaves, “Hallo, meine süße Kamelie. Wie geht es meinem Liebling heute?”

Your darling girl. That was your favorite thing to call your camellia plants. They seemed to like it as well.

Larissa didn’t stay to talk to you, however. She only listened from outside the greenhouse, trying to write down the words you spoke so she could translate them in her office. She tried repeating the sentence over and over as she made her way back to her desk.

Hello, my sweet Kamelie. How is my darling girl today?

Larissa’s heart sunk. You must have been on the phone with another woman. She had really been hoping that you were single. With a little more time, Larissa was even planning on asking you out.

You were a little surprised when Larissa didn’t visit your classroom for an few days. Typically, she always stopped down in the mornings, but you hadn’t seen anything of her. You were beginning to miss your conversations. You were beginning to miss her presence.

You decided to take matters into your own hands when you set up a meeting to talk to her about investing in refurbishing the greenhouses. The greenhouses were fine, but she would have to come down to your classroom for the meeting. You were ready to do anything to see her again.

A knock on your classroom door drew your gaze upward to meet Larissa’s. There she was. Finally back in your classroom.

“I’m here for our meeting.” She seemed a little more formal than usual. A week ago she had been so friendly and casual. What had changed?

“Yes, I’ll show you the current conditions of the greenhouses and explain why updates would be helpful for our students.” You match her professionalism, you raise a hand indicating for her to come with you to the greenhouses.

You explain to Larissa the outdated glass and materials as actually quite flammable and the pose a hazard to students. You both continue walking around the greenhouses until you see that she may no longer be paying attention to you. Her eyes were reading a plant identification tag for one of your many camellia plants.

She smiles as she gazes at the plant so you decide to speak to the plant so it would bloom for her, “Guten Morgen, Kamelie. Wie geht es Ihnen heute?”

“Kamelie?” Larissa asks, changing her focus down at you. You don’t notice her staring at you, rather you are enjoying the new sweet pink flowers that are emerging from the camellia’s branches.

“Yes, Kamelie is camellia in German. My plants like that we have a language most of the students don’t quite know.” You smile at the plant, bringing a hand to stroke the fresh petals.

She hummed in response as she internally kicked herself for jumping to conclusions. Larissa’s eyes scan the greenhouse before turning back to you, “I was thinking we could grab a drink sometime. Just me and you.”

“Like a date?” You ask, tilting you head to the right as you stare up at her. You could tell she was nervous and you enjoyed that the ever-so confident principal was jittery at the thought of asking you out.

Her face became flush. It wasn’t often she asked someone out and the fact that it was you had her flustered, “Y-Yes, like a date.”

[legendaryprofessorwisteria]

Pinned Post

((OOC intro will be under the cut!)

Hello! My name is Professor Adrian Wisteria, though I usually just go by Wisteria. I use she/her pronouns if it's helpful. I'm a fairly new graduate of the Kalosian Research Academy's Legendary and Mythical Pokemon program where I got my first Pokemon, hence the professor title, and I'm currently working in the Legendary Research Lab at the base of Mt. Coronet!

It's a wonderful opportunity, and one I'm taking to open up a blog and talk about my work! Spreading education is a vital part of my job right now, so I'll post about my work and study subjects - Legendary and Mythical Pokemon! Also Ultra Beasts, but not as much. Feel free to ask me anything or chat about your own experiences, and I'll also post info unprompted!

I'll list my current team members, and then there will be more details about the blog below the cut.

Violet - F!Meowstic, my starter from Kalos. Serious nature, hates to lose. Likes to look important, not often playful.

Sylph - M!Togekiss, a gift from an ex-friend. Brave nature, somewhat of a clown. Flies in circles around my head and uses himself as a hat.

Giblets - M!Gible, a lab Pokemon who I'm currently in charge of...as much as you can be in charge of a Gible. Naughty nature, strong-willed. A handful and a half.

Nessie - F!Lapras, caught in Kalos. Jolly nature, loves to eat. Big girl, nibbles people's heads to say hello.

Shades - M!Liepard, bought from a reputable breeder in Kalos. Lax nature, scatters things often. Likes to play, in the laziest way possible. Lap fungus.

Tesla - NB!Porygon2, gifted from the lab I stayed with in Kalos, doesn't battle. Sassy nature, highly curious. Pretends to be a mad scientist sometimes for shits and giggles.

Bloom - F!Leafeon, caught as an Eevee in Kalos. Mild nature, likes to relax. Sleeps a lot, values her quiet time.

Zips - F!Luxio, child of my mother's Luxray. Hasty nature, likes to run. Recently evolved, still tripping over her paws often.

((Hello! This blog is run by Gem (any pronouns), I also run @gemalawashomestuck and @john-dirk. This is one of those scientificish Pokemon ask blogs, but with a bit of a quirk - in this one, there are multiple of each Legendary/Mythical Pokemon, though they're far from common, and people can catch/own/see them as a regular thing!

As such, this blog will mostly focus on Legendary and Mythical Pokemon, but there will absolutely be content about others. Feel free to send in asks - questions, sightings, experiences, etc! Otherwise I'll just headcanonpost like. A lot.

Rules:

Terfs/exclus/transmeds/anti-MOGAI/otherwise bigots will be blocked, as will thinspo/ED blogs and antivaxxers/antimaskers/otherwise science deniers.

Please keep the blog on-topic-ish - any Pokemon-related ask or ask about the character/s or blog is very welcomed, even if it's just related to headcanons/etc. But asks that don't have anything to do with the blog might not be answered.

Explicit NSFW asks won't be answered - I'm fine cussing and talking in the abstract about dark or NSFW topics, but this is mostly an SFW blog and I'd rather not talk in detail about sexual topics or whatnot. It's also mostly irrelevant. That said, there will be appropriately tagged discussions of death, violence, medical issues, poaching, etc.

Also, please do not send any asks that directly impact my blog - like sending me Pokemon, changing something dramatic in the world, or coming to the lab - without asking me and discussing it, preferably off anon/in DMs because I can't answer anons privately. While I don't have solid plans for this blog, there are certain things I'd prefer to do or not do and I'd love to be included in the decision-making as again, I can't answer anons privately so if you're on anon, your plan would be aired to everyone before we could execute.

Also for asks, feel free to take on the roles of various canon characters if you wish. The only thing I ask is that you search their name on my blog first. The only exception is Cynthia, until I announce her secret, please message or off-anon ask me first so I can tell it to you.

Tags (TBA):

out of character

in character

legendary pokemon

mythical pokemon

ultra beasts

professor wisteria

violet meowstic

sylph togekiss

giblets garchomp (tagged as final evo for convenience)

shades liepard

tesla porgyonz (final evo for ease)

bloom leafeon

zips luxray

nessie lapras

lilith iron moth

jenova arceus

meta info

[sabraeal]

a heart felled by you, held by you; Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2024, Day 1: Quadrille

It’s not that Suzu didn’t know Lata’s name or whatever; it’s impossible to forget when it’s stamped right across the office he refuses to use three months out of the academic year— why should I let the university know where to find me? he’d huff, stoking the forge. If they’re going to interrupt my work to harangue me about class numbers and securing grant funding, I have no interest in making it easy for them— and scrawled on every lower right corner of his notes. It’s what every colleague calls across the university atrium before he hurries to out pace the persistence hunter that is professional collaboration; and what Ryuu had tried to stutter through for a whole week when he confused formality for maturity.

But between the towering aisles of his yet-to-be-catalogued accessions, and the number of times Shirayuki— and sometimes even Suzu himself— have been left to make his excuses to professors and professionals far above their pay grade, the idea that’s he’s a noble— a capital ‘F,’ weasel-thing-rampant Forzeno— well, it doesn’t seem quite real.

Not until now, when the doors on this stately manor swing open, and—

“I thought you lived in a shithole,” Suzu blurts out, momentarily blinded by polished marble and gold filigree. He’s no expert on architecture and has only a dubious grasp on history, but even he can tell this place is old. Storied, his mental Kazaha supplies, buzzing through his thoughts like flies over an ungrammatical carcass. “Or at least, that’s what Shidan said when—”

“I said apartment.” Shidan glares at him, like it’s Suzu’s fault he spent ten highly memorable minutes complaining about the stack of specimens that almost toppled onto him that one time he tried to brave Lata’s front parlor.

“It’s a townhouse.” Lata’s all noblesse oblige now that they’re ensconced in his family’s home, acting generous and tolerant, like they’re a good friend’s dogs that he knows are going to piddle on the carpet and he’s determined to be gracious about it. The kind of patience that’s pushed out between a man’s teeth instead of welling up from some internal font of goodness or whatever. “Private land ownership is the only way to receive permission for a forge of that size. And yes, I do.”

“But why not hang out here?” Suzu peeks into one of the fancy urns lining the walkway— disappointingly empty— before letting it rock back onto its pedestal. “It’s big and fancy and there’s a bunch of people whose job is to wait on you hand and foot. I’d never leave.”

“The commute,” Obi offers, sticking his own head down some fancy pot too.  “Or maybe the wallpaper bothers him.”

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Lata mutters, steering Obi away from the crockery with a scowl. “This is family land, owned by countless generations of Forzeno since time immemorial—”

“672.” Kazaha strides down the runner with his hands clasped behind his back, like he’s the king of the castle— or like it might convince the man who is that he’s not about to have any sticky fingers. “That’s when Motouji Forzeno ordered a fitting home to be built for him within a day’s ride of the capital, which at that point was still based in Wirant, not in Wistal. That only happened once the Wisteria family inherited the throne from a series of strategic marriages over the previous three generations—”

“And in any case, not mine.” He clears his throat, shoulders pulling straight beneath the heavy wool over his tunic, looking more lordly per inch than he ever has at the university. “At least, not in name.”

For as long as Suzu’s known him, Shidan’s never been a confrontational kind of guy; Lata might duck and dodge and, if cornered, bite and rend any interference from the university’s board, but Shidan chooses the path of least resistance. Or more accurately, the path of least surveillance— he might sit and stay and sign the papers the higher up sent his way, but as soon as they had their back turned cajoling some of the more recalcitrant academics in their department, he’d slip right off the leash, doing what needed doing before the deans were any the wiser. That’s how they’d gotten into this whole orimmallys project anyhow, and that all worked out in the end. Mostly.

So when Shidan hums, all considering— the way he does when he’s about to quibble over wording on a paper, but so nicely Suzu won’t even know he’s gotten the run-around until he’s halfway to the dorms— it’s a sign. A portent, even.

“Your father gave you lease over the entire place, didn’t he?” He’s got his gloves caught in his hand, running fingers along some fancy wainscoting. There’s some gold leaf on it, gilding a few fussy fleur-de-lis, and his fingers run slow enough that there’s got to be some grit. Dust, even. “That’s what Garrack said, at least.”

Lata’s brow sours like samples left too long on the bench. “And of course, Head Pharmacist Gazelt would be the expert on my family’s internal affairs.”

“No,” Ryuu murmurs ponderously, so soft they all hush up to hear him. “But she’d be less invested in avoiding them.”

Big blue eyes blink up at his lordship, and if they were any less guileless— or maybe, if Ryuu was any less fifteen— there’d be some sort of dust up. Some flavor of raised voices and shaking fists, and maybe someone would end up with a cold ass on the big field of snow Lata calls the front lawn. But instead he just sucks in a breath, whistling like a hole in a window when the wind’s got its back up, and says, “I thought I was being quite generous offering you all a place to ready yourselves before the gala, but now I’m quite wondering just why I extended the invitation.”

“Because you’d rather be annoyed with us than risk being left alone with one of those lords?” Suzu barely realizes he’s spoken until five sets of eyes swing his way, goggling like he’s hauled off and said something out of band. Again. “Or ladies?”

A laugh’s dour cousin scrapes out from Lata’s chest as they climb what Suzu assumes is the grand stair, if only because it’s larger than the last three. “Yes,” he agrees, more weary than waggish. “Something like that.”

“Hey.” Obi hangs back, lingering on the landing with one thumb hooked over his shoulder. “Is that you?”

There’s a portrait beside him, larger than he is— or Suzu, or Shidan, or any man he’s seen living; so big that it must have taken a whole crew of footmen to install, if only to keep one of them from being crushed under a lordly boot. He’s got to squint to see above the knee, daubs of oils glistening in the gaslight, making it hard to pick out more than the curve of thick, dark hair, or the stern, squarish set the to jaw, or—

“I gotta say,” Obi hums, arms folding over his coat. “Quail hunter isn’t what comes to mind when I look at you.”

“I’m not.” Lata paces a step back toward them, then two, glowering up at the most detailed bird carcass Suzu’s ever seen outside the ruts of a country road. “That would be my father, in his youth. He had a great love of…working his will on the world, one way or another.”

“Ah…” Kazaha sighs, searching for something properly ingratiating to say. “There’s a certain, hm, strong family resemblance.”

Suzu seizes the opportunity to inform the professor, “He means that you both look grumpy.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Right,” he agrees blithely. “It’s what you meant. Like I said.”

Lata snorts, starting back down the hall. “If you think I am ill-tempered, wait until you meet my sire. Why, I’m practically a ray of sunshine next to that old—”

“Oh, are we gonna?” Obi whips around, determined to be underfoot as he asks, “Will I finally get to meet my Knight Grandpa? Sir Grandpa—?”

“I would thank you not to call him that.  And no.” Lata’s mouth thins to a line as tight as his shoulders. “Besides, if we are to take Knight Grandpa at its most literal, it would not be my father, but instead the man who was my master as a squire.”

“Is he gonna be here? Can I meet him?” It’s not physically possible for Obi to wend himself around Lata’s legs, but by the way he bats his eyes up at him, he’s spiritually there. “I promise I’ll be a good little knight. I’ll even bow and scrape and write poetry about women lying in ponds—”

“No.” After a begrudging pause, Lata adds, “He’s dead, actually.”

Obi pops up, shoulders suddenly soldier-straight beside him. “Oh, well. That’s a pretty good excuse. Did he die from some battle wound or…?”

“The drink,” Lata confirms. “He wasn’t, honestly, a very good master. But he was a friend of my father’s. That seemed to matter more back then.”

A laugh saws out of Obi, rough enough Suzu’s surprised it doesn’t take a bit of throat with it. “Seems to matter just as much now.”

The professor doesn’t do anything so obvious as look at Obi, oh no— he just simply clasps his hands behind his back, favoring the hall in front of him with an approving nod. “Doesn’t it just.”

“You frown the same way.” Both men peer over their shoulders, but Obi makes confusion seem casual, whereas Lata just scowls. Ryuu, for his part, doesn’t seem to notice. “You and your father, I mean.”

“Yes.” Lata surveys the hallway over his shoulder before turning back around. “It runs in the family.”

A beat passes before Suzu dares to venture, “Hey, weren’t the girls supposed to get ready here too?”

“Yes.” The professor isn’t known to smile, and he certainly doesn’t now, giving them all a disapproving glare. “They arrived on time.”

*

“What if” —Shidan’s clever little botanist practically froths over the vanity like a flask left too long on the hob, spilling linen and lace where she leans— “I told him I had something in my eye.”

This is hardly the first volley of hypotheticals Garrack’s fielded from that quarter; oh no, the girls had all been down to chemises when the preliminary speculation began— what if…I said I needed some air?— and now what had already been a serviceable set of natural curves has become a feat of human engineering, bolstered by a bulwark of baleen and batiste. There’d been endless layers added on; bust improvers and corsets and girdles, all requiring additional helpful hands, and it lends a weary edge to Izuru’s, “Oh, it’s a him, now is it?”

Shidan’s long-time assistant hasn’t bothered to batten down her hatches— at least, not as much as the botanist girl’s— with only enough corsetry to turn her posture from academic to appropriate. Another assurance that she’s coming along nicely, just the way Garrack always thought she would so long as Shidan’s quiet perfectionism didn’t infest her work ethic the way his little pet project did the university’s water supply.

“What next?” It has to have been ages since there was a woman in this place— heavens know Lata isn’t bringing any inamorata around here to parade around in front of his mother’s mirror— but the painted wood Izuru slumps over is pristine. Or, well, as much as whale bone lets a body slouch.  “Identifying details? A name?”

“He’s hypothetical,” the botanist snaps, which almost guarantees that he isn’t. Too bad she hasn’t caked on the powder yet; even with the lights dimmed as they are, it’s impossible to miss the flush that creeps up her shoulders, pouring onto that pretty face. “He doesn’t exist. Yet.”

There’s quite a bit Izuru seems to have to say about that; her shoulder straighten, her mouth cants, and—

“Is that supposed to be romantic?” Shirayuki frowns into the mirror, hands swallowed up by the untameable beast that is Izuru’s hair. “Having something in your eye?”

“Well, not usually,” the botanist admits, undaunted by the sharp elbow of reality bursting her dreamy little bubble. “But an eyelash…that’s all right. Delicate even! Demure. And when he bends down, BAM.”

Shirayuki blinks. “You hit him?”

“Kiss him!” The girl slumps into a chair— despite all her scaffolding, she makes a better show of it than Izuru— heaving the most world-weary sigh. “I would kiss him, Shirayuki.”

It’s years since she’s been that diligent apprentice, quietly working under Ryuu’s precise direction, but Shirayuki still flushes as red as her hair at the barest mention of grown adults touching in any way but a professional handshake. Garrack would have thought Zen would handle that— three years is a quite a lot of time, and considering what some of her cohort got up to on these cold Lilias nights, she’d have expected the bar for blushing to be a few sexual acts higher. Under the clothes, at least.

“W-wouldn’t that be an awkward angle?” Shirayuki busies herself with Izuru’s hair, letting it twist around her hands as she pins it in place. “You m-might crash heads! And noses.”

“Fine.” The botanist flops on her chair, thoroughly put upon. “What about dropping my handkerchief? I let it flutter, just like this”— there’s no fabric in her hands, but she sticks out an elegant arm, turning away as her fingers go limp— “and when he bends to retrieve it, I—”

Garrack snorts. Not a soft one either; for as unintended as it is, it draws quite the audience. The pretty botanist included, one of her well-shaped eyebrows raised.

It’s a struggle to keep the laugh in her chest from bubbling out, making this whole situation worse. Or injure this girl’s more tender emotions, at least.“Listen, you really think a lord would stoop? For a botanist?”

“He will if he wants to be kissed!” she huffs, arms crossed. Quite a bit of lace froths out over them, like a puffed-out pigeon’s chest. “Which he will, since I’m going to be the best looking girl at this gala!”

There’s one of these girls in every cohort— a little too pretty for their own good, always thinking about which assistants they might be able to catch alone in the fourth floor stock room. Clever, of course— you don’t end up in Lilias if you’re a slouch in that department— but just a bit silly. Whimsical. Destined to be disappointed when they find out royals don’t marry researchers.

At least most royals with most researchers. It probably doesn’t help that the statistical outlier is in the room right now, sending her a long suffering look. “Yuzuri…”

“That’s no slight on the rest of you, Shirayuki,” the botanist— this Yuzuri— assures her, “I’ve just been planning for this my whole life. Or at least since I found out Wirant throws one of the Solstice things.”

“We’re supposed to be here for professional purposes,” Izuru reminds her, having worked for Shidan too long to believe in mixing work with pleasure.

“Oh, boo, Izuru!” Yuzuri straightens, bustling over to the mirror to fuss with the glossy fall of her hair,  pinning up parts of it with her fingers and frowning at the results. “Don’t be dull.”

“It’s not dull,” Shirayuki protests, placing the last pin in hopes that this time, Izuru’s hair might not simply bend the mess of them to breaking. “It’s what Shidan’s asking us to do. I’m not saying you can’t dance too, but if you’re going to be mingling with the nobles, maybe you should try to talk to some of them about what we’re doing with the Phostyrias. Just a couple of them giving permission for us to plant the bulbs would really be—”

“Oh, fine, fine.” She waves one hand— painstakingly manicured, done up in a pearly sort of polish that wouldn’t last five minutes once she was back in the greenhouse— but undeterred. “I can chat them up a little bit too. For the project.”

Tonight might be the darkest night of the year, celebrated in the coldest, most ass-end part of the whole country, but when Shirayuki smiles, Garrack might well be back in her office at Wistal, enjoying the mild summer breeze winding through her window. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You better,” Yuzuri huffs, twisting her hair in her hands. “Don’t think I don’t notice that it’s the girl with a guy who’s down to kiss her anytime, any place that’s asking the rest of us to consider this a work party.”

“I…” Shirayuki sputters, and hoh, there’s that blush again, with a vengeance. “Obi wouldn’t…I mean…that’s not…”

Well, well. Looks like she’s been a little behind on current events of the frigid north. And maybe not so wrong about royals and researchers after all.

“What if I asked him off into a side corridor? Or an alcove? Maybe a balcony,” Shidan’s botanist continues, saving Shirayuki a few more stumbles. “Those always have the right ambiance. And then I ask him to check the clasp on my necklace, and—”

“At that point you might as well ask him to kiss you,” Izuru is quick to point out, stepping up to help her hold a swag of hair in place. “You’re not really being subtle.”

Yuzuri groans, pins clattering against painted wood. “But where’s the romance in that? There’s got to be some uncertainty, some risk—”

“You do know,” Garrack hums, crossing her ankles on the convenient hassock in front of her. “Shidan and I are here specifically to help keep down the kissing, don’t you?”

The girl sighs, eyes rolling in her reflection. “But you’re not really going to do anything, are you, Master Gazelt? You know how silly this whole rule is. Aren’t you just going to look the other way?”

Her mouth twitches. It would be funny to see that old goat get twisted up over some twenty-year-olds playing mother-may-I with their tonsils. “Maybe,” she allows, “if I thought it was funny enough.”

*

It hardly seems fair to say Suzu is disheveled when he hardly ever seems, well, sheveled, for lack of a better word. But with his shirt still merely half-buttoned and flyaway wisps of blond escaping their tie with every scrape of his hands over his scalp, Shidan has little else to call him.

“Is the mazurka step-step-clap-turn, or is that the redowa?” His half-coat flaps out around him as he marks out the movements— poorly, but at least recognizable, even if Shidan would be at pains to reproduce them. “Or maybe it’s the waltz? Help me, Obi,” — he seizes the knight as he slips through the door, rumpling the black wool of his coat— “I can’t remember!”

“I’ll run you through the steps before we get out there,” he promises, detaching Suzu from his lapel with more gentleness than Shidan would, under the circumstances. Suzu is a valuable member of his team, a long-time collaborator who will perform any number of demeaning tasks to see a project through, so long as he can avoid a single shred of responsibility and complain about his sorry lot the whole time, but well— even Shidan has his limits. “It’ll all come back to you once you got the band to back you up. These things always make more sense with the music.”

Suzu stares at him, utterly blank, and Obi huffs out a laugh. “Theoretical versus practical knowledge, right?”

“Oh.” Suzu endeavors to smooth back his strays, but they only pop back up in his palm’s wake. “Right. Yeah. Of course. Easy, then.”

“Right.” Obi pats his shoulder with a purposeful sort of confidence, as if he could pass it through flesh and fabric with the ease that footrot does through hoofs. “Easy.”

That is until Ryuu glances up from his book, brow furrowed in the faintest vee, and says, “If that’s the case, then how are you and Shirayuki so bad at it?”

Obi whips around, wide-eyed with betrayal. “H-hey!” he squawks. “We’ve gotten better!”

Ryuu doesn’t reply— not verbally, at least— but the look he turns to Obi is eloquent enough to speak for itself. And what it says is: not appreciably.

“Why are you even concerned about all that?” Kazaha’s costume is so crisp carpenters could use it to cut corners, cape and coat and pants and stymieing haircut all in perfect place. “It’s not as if anyone is going to ask you to dance.”

“Why not? I’m dressed all nice.” Suzu blinks down at himself, taking in the uncuffed sleeves and half-buttoned shirt and the coat canted askew on his shoulders, and adds, “Well, I will be.”

Kazaha may cluck his tongue, may shake his head hopelessly, but even still, he reaches out, straightening Suzu’s cuffs before buttoning them tight. “Because you’re a man, idiot. Girls might inquire if you’d like to take a stroll down Pavilion Street when we’re at the university, but in a ballroom, men do the asking.”

Shidan can’t say Suzu’s ever been popular with the female population, especially among the more established academics who are already well aware of his reputation as a rather acerbic eccentric, more apt to be cozened under tables or smudged with sweat and grit from Lata’s forge than doing the more respectable pastime of benchwork. But there’s always a flush of fluttering young freshmen flouncing outside the lab each year, eager to catch a glimpse of— or even speak a word or two with— the herbology department’s most striking scholar. That is, of course, until they actually talk to him.

“Really?” Spoken like a man who has had invitations hurled at his retreating back for five years running. By Kazaha’s strangled sigh, it’s clear he’s thinking the same. “I’m very pretty, though.”

“That may help with young ladies wanting to dance with you,” Kazaha informs him, pulling his lapel into a shape somewhat approaching acceptable. “But it will be expected that you approach them.”

“Oh.” It’s startling to see that sharp face turn thoughtful. “So I don’t have to do this dancing thing at all.”

“You do.” Shidan’s order scrapes out at the same time Kazaha’s does, creating an odd sort of echo before he presses on, “We’re the guests of honor at this gala. The department is expecting us to socialize with potential donors.”

“Well sure, but that doesn’t mean I gotta—”

“You will,” Shidan promises him wearily. “And you’ll have to at least pretend to like it, if you want to continue our work in the lab.”

“And not in some tiny closet,” Obi adds, brightly. “Where you’ll have to knock elbows with Kazaha just to get a beaker on the burner.”

“Well, yeah.” Suzu slumps, waving off Kazaha’s continued ministrations. It’s too late, however— he already looks respectable. Not enough to pass for a peer, but someone well on his way to professor. “But what if I just hung out along the wall instead. Then I could talk to people, and—”

“It’s rude for young men to be idling when there are eligible young ladies waiting for a partner.” Obi’s words nearly sparkle for all their polish, but he ruins the effect with one of his slant-wise grins. “Don’t worry, I told you I’d show you how to cut a rug. It’s better than getting stuck in a conversation with one of those stuffy old—”

There is a gravitas to the way the doors open in this place, a stately creak that does not imply age so much at maturity; this manor was built long before the sovereigns of Wisteria sunk their roots into Clarines’ throne, and it would last long after they were nothing more than musty portraits in halls long forgot. For as much as Lata might chafe under the weight of that history, might complain about the burden of expectation placed upon a son— the son— of Forzeno, he looks every inch the part as he steps over the threshold, trousers tailored and coast pressed within an inch of their lives, more institution than man.

“The guests are arriving,” he intones with all the cheer of a funeral bell. “Are you through with your preparations?”

“Almost!” Obi sing-songs, helping Kazaha tug the sleeves of Suzu’s jacket straight. “There, done.”

Lata surveys them with the same sharpness as he does his specimens, assessing them as if their flaws were as easily apparent as a gem’s through a loupe. With a long-suffering sigh, one pristine glove pinches at his nose, as if it might be any help at all stemming the incoming headache.

“Passable,” he grates out, stepping aside. “Now if you would follow me, I will ensure that you all make it to the hall.”

Obi’s mouth twitches, threatening a smirk. “Can’t trust us to get there on our own, eh, sir?”

“I have been an academic for nearly as long as you have been alive.” The fit of his coat already has Lata at his full height, but he lifts his chin for good measure, just to give his glare a few more momentum before it meets Obi’s grin. “And there is not a single scholar alive that can travel from one point to another in a straight line.”

Both brows raise now, scrunching the scar right to his hairline. “Not even you?”

Lata clears his throat. “If you would all come this way please. In an orderly fashion,” he adds, when Suzu traipses after him, elbows nearly colliding with Ryuu’s nose as he comes up behind. “I would prefer to avoid any accidents before we even arrive.”

Obi slinks closer, like a cat approaching a precariously placed cup. “But not after?”

A heavy sigh flares out of Lata’s nostrils. “I would prefer you not. But ‘after’ is not part of my purview.”

For all that Obi enjoys dogging the professor’s irritable heels, he makes no move to follow him. Instead, he lingers just inside the door, watching as first Suzu, then Ryuu, then Kazaha pass. Being polite, Shidan assumes at first, but then the moment for him to fall in line comes…and passes, utterly unmarked, save for the amused glance Obi turns his way, gold flaring in the lamplight.

He’s a different man than the one that appeared with the snow, all those years ago. Even more so from the boy that simply manifested in the university’s library, slotting himself between the two royal pharmacists with an ease that had Shidan squinting even then, trying to figure out how such incongruous pieces could fit. Lilias drew all types, it’s true, but even so— he’d never seen one quite like this: a knight with a thug’s scar cut into his brow, swaggering through the stacks like they were old enemies.

Don’t be fooled, Garrack had written him once, loops spiking tight with barely restrained humor. He might look a little rough-and-tumble, but that kid cleans up well.

He sees it now— the strong line of his shoulder accentuated by the cut of his coat, the belt at his waist complementing the taper of his torsi, the loose trousers that only barely obscure the acrobat’s body beneath. There’s no way to cover the scar, not even with a judicious application of pomade, but there’s no need— not when it only makes him look roguish, like a man who might sweep a girl into an alcove and teach her the sort of things proper young ladies only learned from novels. Still dangerous, but not deadly.

Worrying, really, considering. Shidan doesn’t make a habit of listening to scuttlebutt, but, well, he does have eyes of his own. And red is hard to miss. More so than the black he always finds bent beside it. “Obi, if I might have a word?”

That brow of his pitches up, amusement apparent in every angle. “You academics really will do anything to keep from having to go where you’re told.”

Shidan blinks, confused, before shaking his head. “I only thought I might remind you, that er…” There’s no delicate way to put it, not when he’s already wearing a smirk that would set every fine young lady’s fan fluttering. “That this year there is to be no Solstice kissing. By Lata’s request.”

“So I’ve heard.” Obi’s head cocks, curious, though when he takes in the emptiness of the room, the pointedness of the request…the slant his brow takes is clearly…confused. “Is there any reason you’re telling me, specifically?”

It’s a romantic sort of night, he might say, and it’s easy to forget yourself in the moment. Or maybe, you already stand so close I couldn’t fit a paper between the two of you, all it would take to close it is a well-timed trip. Or perhaps more accurately, you’ve been together so long all you need is an excuse. Trust me when I say you should take it.

But Shidan knows better than to speak, not when silence is all the more eloquent. The mind, he finds, often finds the most pressing reasons all on its own. Especially when one's thoughts never strayed too far from them anyway...

“Hey!” Obi presses a hand to the placard of his coat. “I haven’t caused trouble for years.”

It’s a feat worthy of song that Shidan keeps from reminding him of the last time him and Shirayuki rode through these gates. And yet, there’s no graceful way to admit that he hadn’t been talking about that sort of trouble anyway.

“Months, at least,” he relents, grudgingly. With a few moments of thought, he adds, “I’ve been really good this week.”

Shidan, with the patience of a saint, restricts his reply to simply, “If you’re sure.”

Obi does him the courtesy of hesitating. “Well, none of that’s been of the kissing variety, anyway. Not like any of the ladies here are going to be looking to make time with a guy like me tonight.”

He gives him another one of those charming grins, and Shidan sighs, resigning himself to an evening of being pointedly unobservant. “So you say.”

[elsewhereuniversity]

Hi, for anyone taking Professor Farrah Mone's Arthurian Literature course, just a heads up that there's a three-way duel ongoing in the classroom right now -- maybe wait another 10 minutes before venturing closer? Mone's no help, since they're one of the duelers: the other is some massive lady with long green hair that REALLY looks like wisteria leaves, don't know where she came from, and the last is just Don Julio again. You know how he is-- oh, there goes another window.

[darisprites]

Another upload a day late because I forgor, final one of the bunch(for now) The Professor for my Pokemon art project, Pokemon Fragments. Her name is Wisteria and she's an eccentric older woman. I imagine she enjoys camping and eats weeds. c:

[id0what1want]

Same anon as the battle quotes one and I’m so happy you liked my ask! Was a little nervous. Curious on how she’d react to being transported to Hisui, mainly reactions to like. The Galaxy team, the way of life, stuff like that!

Also if you want to do the battle aspect, it’d be interesting to see her quotes for how she’d react to seeing an Alpha for the first time, getting hit by a wild Pokémon’s attack, fall damage, being spotted while sneaking up on a mon, low HP for herself, battling a Noble Mon and stuff like that as well! :>

No need to be nervous anon, I don't bite!! Cereza totally does tho

This is incredibly interesting! I love the mask maker Kieran au in Hisui so I might piggyback off of that! Cereza would be bewildered at first, but considering the wild events of the story, would quickly shrug and be like "yeah that checks". Especially cuz of the whole SadaTuro time travel shenanigans. Honestly she likely ended up in Hisui by fucking with the lab in Area Zero when she definitely should not have.

Cereza would make a beeline for every Pokemon she doesn't recognize, she would be an amazing member of the Galaxy Team but I think they'd be scared senseless of her. I feel like she'd definitely squint really hard at a few characters due to their resemblance to characters she knows *cough* Adaman *cough* The way of life definitely reminds her of Kitakami and it does make her homesick. She was forced to spend multiple months away from Kieran and now time travel has come back to bite her in the ASS and takes her away from him again, she's definitely pissed. If she still has her Tera Orb and Miraidon (both of which she keeps hidden except from maybe the professor and anyone who's tech savvy) she's trying to reverse engineer a way home through them. On that note, I'd love to see them find each other in the mask maker au, that'd be dope. She's very upset that she doesn't have her Pokemon with her. If any of them are with her, it'd either be her Corviknight or her Dragapult, both never leave her side. I'm airing on the side of Charon, her Corviknight. (I have to do her pokemon team post sooo bad :') If Charon is with her, she would refuse to let anyone remove him from her side. If anyone tries, she quickly gets violent. I imagine she does copious amounts of research as a way to distract herself, which she already does in her own time anyway but now she has a whole new TIME PERIOD to record. She feels like Director Clavell when she has to write the pages to her own Pokedex. She does recognize a few Pokemon and puts two and two together, for example Perrin's Hisuian Growlithe, Basculegion is native to Kitakami, and Kleavor can be found in the Canyon Biome of the Terrarium. For this reason I'm sure she has a Kleavor on her Hisui team. She would reach the pond that Turtwig spawn by and cry (She has a Torterra on her team back home named Ginkgo). That and the pond reminds her of Wisteria Lake and she starts missing Kieran again. She would definitely harass a spiteful little fox into joining her team. She loves that Hisuian Zorua, but it definitely tries to kill her multiple times before she catches it. (The two definitely have the 'I only worked with you cuz I had to, we will NEVER be friends' 'Let's get through this together!' 'I HOPE YOU DIE') but they eventually work it out. I think she either invests in a Porygon-Z or a Rotom to try and work out a way back home. If Arceus is talking to her, she's definitely speeding through the tasks he gives her in order to return. She recognizes Ingo and does the surprised Pikachu face. Her reaction to Alpha Pokemon is starry eyed interest. She's with Irida at the time and she spots one and Irida explains the phenomenon to which Cereza books it towards the damn thing. Irida has to physically drag her away. Safe to say on her own time she gets roughed up by a few Alpha Pokemon but it's worth it for research purposes. Getting hit by a Pokemon's attack she can probably shrug off half the time (she spars with her Annihilape for Arceus sake) but the other half she grips her ribs and lets out a heavy sigh with the line "that smarts..." (She's Galarian, but the accent rarely pokes through)

SHE WOULD SUFFER SO MUCH FALL DAMAGE she will straight up forget she doesn't have a rotom phone and jump off cliffs. Charon has to save her SO MANY TIMES. She probably hits the ground and falls over with a groan before face palming her forehead with the heel of her palm like "Dammit, this is getting old..." Being spotted while sneaking up on a mon would normally never bother her- unless it's an Alpha in which she frantically starts rationalizing to it. Like it can hear her. She is so smart yet so stupid. She'd be sneaking through the woods and hear the growl of an Alpha Ursaluna behind her and she turns around and says with a sheepish smile. "Technically it's not trespassing since you don't have a land grant." and she gets freaking socked. Low HP for her probably wouldn't be anything beyond a few winces. Cereza is small but very durable, she prefers the wilderness to the indoors, and in a way, Hisui is amazing for that. She already likes to rough it in Paldea, exploration is like her favorite thing ever, Hisui is a haven for that. Kieran I'm sure remembers how Cereza spent multiple nights in Kitakami exploring the land because she couldn't get enough during the day. She'd come to orienteering the next morning with scuffed knees, messy hair, a little bit of dark circles, and the most excited grin as she asks Kieran about everything she saw the night before. She'd be so good at battling Noble Mon (again, spars with Annihilape) especially coupled with all her pent-up anger. She is probably taunting the damn thing half the time, she would get hit and laugh saying "Oh I'm WAYY harder to kill than that!" it almost looks like she has a death wish. On quiet nights when she can hear herself think, she misses home. Especially her onion boy. Losing him twice is a punch to the gut. She cries herself to sleep some nights into Charon's steel feathers, her only reminder of home. She feels like she's going insane all over again and when she's alone in caves or on top of mountains, all she can do is scream until her vocal cords beg her to stop. Cereza may be chaotic and fun, but she isn't stupid. She understands the gravity of her situation and it guts her. I might do another one exploring a full scenario/au where she and Kieran get thrown to the past and she hears rumors of a mask maker and it's him. THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASKS!! They get me thinking and this scenario is something I've never considered before!! :> Continue throwing in your two cents, anything is welcome!

✨Do whatever you want forever✨

~ Cytoplasm

[carnivorousyandeere]

Wisteria Smut

(MDNI)

CW: calling her “Mommy,” cockwarming, oral/deepthroat, being called “puppy”

More info: dom yandere, gender neutral reader, sub reader

It’s been a hard day. Everything was too bright, too loud, and too hot. Class had been a real boring headache, as it always was. All you wanted was to go home and see your girlfriend. Not have to worry about classes, assignments… finally, the professor dismissed the class. You shoved your notes into your bag and rushed home to your shared apartment.

Wisteria turned her head slightly as she heard the front door open and practically slam shut, but kept most of her focus on her game. She had to fight the urge to jump up and cling onto you, but knew from experience that you usually needed a little space for a few minutes after coming home.

You did walk past her once, came back, pressed a quick kiss to the top of faer head, then went into the restroom. Wisteria could hear the shower turn on.

Just thinking of you, and the way the water would roll down your skin—

Curses and shouts from her teammates over vc derailed Wisteria’s train of thought. Shit.

Wisteria loses herself in the game again, embroiled in a nasty match with a skilled enemy faction. Fae doesn’t even really hear the shower turn off, or you leaving the bathroom.

It isn’t until you’re pulling faer gaming chair back and squeezing under her desk that Wisteria really remembers you’re home. And once fae looks at you, by god, you’re the only thing on her mind. The chatter of her teammates may as well be flies buzzing in the distance.

You, staring up at her through still-damp lashes, skin warm from the shower, the collar faer’d picked for you wrapped snugly around your neck…

“You don’t have to stop… please, may I just…?” you trail off, shyly leaning your face against her thigh, eyes pleading.

Wisteria’s heart stops for a moment, affection swelling in faer chest. God, you’re so perfect for her. Such a good puppy, a good guard dog— so protective, so obedient, so needy. It sends a thrill up Wisteria’s spine, knowing they’re the only one you submit to, the only one you kneel for.

Wisteria licks faer lips, covering her mic. “May you…?”

You squirm under her gaze, pouting a little, but meekly ask, “May I… may I cockwarm you, Mommy?”

“Good puppy,” Wisteria purrs, not missing your shiver, “I’ll let you cockwarm me. Be a good pet and try not to distract me too much, okay~?”

You nod and pull down her pajama pants as Wisteria uncovers her mic to go back to the campaign. She’s already half hard, and you gently take faer into your mouth. The taste and feel of faer makes you sigh, eyes fluttering closed as you gently run your tongue over faer hardening length. One of her hands slides down to push you a little further, and gently scratch your scalp for a minute. Your mind goes pleasantly warm and hazy, hands obediently folded in your lap even as your own core begs to be touched. This was just what you’d needed 💕