musingsofahufflepuff

[musingsofahufflepuff]

what demon do i have to sell my soul to to have him 💔

[musingsofahufflepuff]

CELESTE 😫

i have more to say but i’ll keep it brief. how you knock it out of the park, craft a masterpiece, every single time, is beyond me. this is beautiful and amazing and maybe my favorite mattheodore fic to date, including my own.

you’re an angel, okay, ily

Ethically

Mattheo Riddle x Theodore Nott

week 1 of @acourtofchaos 's Festival of AUs

Summary: next door neighbor! au— In which Mattheo and Theodore’s methods for spending time with each other aren’t always the most ethically sound

word count: 4.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Mattheo had always thought that the worst part of moving had to be all the fucking boxes. You had to load up all your shit into dozens of flimsy cardboard boxes, break your back moving it all, and then deal with the mess of reversing your previous hard work and unboxing all of it. But standing here outside his new apartment, boxes piled up lining the hall as he repeatedly tries jamming his key into the lock, he’s beginning to realize that it can in fact, get worse.

“Are you— are you trying to break into my apartment?” A voice asks, causing Mattheo to jolt back, his key clattering to the floor.

“Fuck. No. I’m trying to get into my apartment, but this bloody key doesn’t fit the lock,” he replies, bending down to snatch the key off the ground, not bothering to glance at the stranger who’d snuck up on him.

“That’s probably because you’re at the wrong door. Empty apartment is one door over,” the voice says, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

Mattheo freezes, blinking once before slowly turning his head to glare at the apartment one door down the hall, and then finally turning fully to face the stranger. His plea to not call the cops on him is quickly replaced by a sharp in take of breath as he gets a good look at his new neighbor.

Tall with soft brown hair, sharp eyes, and a devious smirk grinning down at him; Mattheo feels his chest tighten, bobbing his head in a quick nod before shuffling over to the correct door, a cold sweat washing over him. Why did it have to be him? He wonders to himself as his key finally turns allowing the door to swing open.

"Name's Theo by the way. If you ever need anything," his neighbor calls out before disappearing into his own apartment.

As soon as Mattheo steps into his new home he wants to melt into the floor. Great first impression he thinks bitterly to himself. New neighbor is hot as hell and the first thing he does is try to break into his apartment. Unknowingly to be fair, but still.

Not allowing himself to dwell too much on it, Mattheo begins lugging boxes inside, letting a pile grow in the middle of the would-be living room. It was going to be a long fucking day.

The first thing Mattheo notices the next morning, other than the pain in his lower back from sleeping on a mattress on the floor, is the distinct lack of anything edible in his new home.

He hadn’t wanted to deal with the hassle of moving food and all the nasty smells of spoiled, rotten food that could come with it. But by the way his stomach was now rumbling, he was beginning to see why that had been rather short sighted.

With an agitated groan, he rubs the sleep from his eyes, barely making the effort to brush his teeth and throw on a new hoodie before venturing out to find some food. As soon as Mattheo exits the apartment complex, he’s blinded by the early morning sunlight. Grumbling, he makes his way over to his car, an old beater sure, but one of the first he’d ever worked on.

The door closes with a gentle thud, and Mattheo turns the keys, the engine slowly spurring to life before sputtering out just as quickly.

“Oh for the love of-“ Mattheo throws his head back, groaning as he swings the door back open.

Stupid spark plug had probably come loose again. He really needed to find time to fix that, it was starting to get annoying. Opening the hood of his car it’s clear his suspicion had been correct and he’s about to adjust the damn thing once more when a voice calls out behind him. Startled, Mattheo jumps, the back of his head slamming on the hood of the car as he lets out a string of curses.

“Need a ride?”

Mattheo turns and of course as luck would have it, finds Theo standing behind him, once again attempting to hold back a laugh, his own set of car keys dangling between his fingers. Why did the world hate him?

“Ah, no! Nope! Everything’s fine over here, thanks,” Mattheo replies, tripping over his words as if he’d never strung a sentence together before.

Theo just raises an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his rather beat up car unconvinced.

“It’s really not a problem,” Theo says, tipping his head towards the car parked directly next to Mattheo’s.

“I—“ Mattheo pauses, looking down at the loose spark plug.

It would take him seconds to fix. But what the hell? If his smoking hot neighbor wanted to give him a lift, who was he to decline?

“You know what? That would actually be great,” he hears himself declare, closing the hood of his car with a dull thud.

Theo looks rather pleased with his answer, unlocking his car and gesturing for Mattheo to hop in.

"I never actually got your name," Theo trails off as Mattheo gingerly steps into the cars.

"Mattheo. Matt. Whatever you want," he rushes out, mentally face palming as Theo lets out a soft laugh.

"So where were you headed?" Theo asks as the car hums to life.

"Just to pick up some food and stuff," Mattheo mumbles back as he takes in the tidy interior of the car.

Clean leather seats and not a single piece of trash littering the floor. It was nothing like his own beater, but that car had been the only constant in his life these past few years.

"Convenient. I was headed to the store myself," Theo replies easily as he backs out of his parking spot.

Mattheo can feel his heart stop when Theo's hand lands inches away from him, resting on his seat as Theo turns to check out the back window. He can't tell if his mouth has gone completely dry or if he's salivating uncontrollably as his eyes lock in on Theo's forearm and the veins protruding from it. God he needed to snap out of it. Get a grip.

Mattheo spends the rest of the ride trying to survive awkward small talk and looking out the window at the new city he found himself in. When they finally pull into the parking lot, he finds himself following Theo inside like a lost puppy. There's an awkward pause where Mattheo isn't quite sure if he's supposed to go off on his own or not, but Theo answers that question when he gives him a strange look.

"Never been to a grocery store or something? Come on," he says, grabbing a basket.

Mattheo feels like he’s shopping with his mother, carefully putting items into the basket and hoping he doesn’t get any strange looks or raised eyebrows. Theo on the other hand goes about as if it’s business as usual, tossing this and that carelessly into the shopping basket.

It all feels terribly domestic, especially for two people who’d barely ever spoken before, but somehow, with each aisle they meander through it grows increasingly more comfortable.

When they finally make it to check out, Mattheo has to fend Theo off, insisting that he’ll pay.

“Can’t hijack your grocery run and let you pay,” he grumbles, shoving his card into the reader.

The following weekend Mattheo finds himself pulling yet another batch of cookies out of his oven. The sugary sweet aroma filled his apartment and flour coated every surface of the kitchen. He’d always liked baking growing up and seemed to have a bit of a knack for it. That was a lie. He did not like baking and he was actually terrible at it. But Theo didn’t have to know that.

Unfortunately, Mattheo’s first batch of cookies had come out hard as rock on the outside, but still raw on the inside. He had no idea how that was even possible. The second batch had almost caused the fire alarms to go off after he’d gotten distracted and forgotten them in the oven. But this batch. Well, they looked normal, tasted normal, and Mattheo hadn’t immediately gotten sick after trying one so they’d have to do.

Over the course of the last week, Mattheo couldn’t keep track of how many times he’d accidentally run into Theo. He swore he’d never seen any of his other neighbors this frequently. It seemed like every time he turned around, Theo was there with his smug grin and some little quip that made Mattheo putty in his hands. It was driving Mattheo insane.

Not to brag, but Mattheo had always considered himself to be a smooth talker if he did say so himself. Charming, charismatic, the works. So to be left a blubbering fool every time Theo so much as breathed in his direction. Well that simply wouldn’t do.

Carefully picking out the best looking cookies from the pan and dumping them into a plastic container, Mattheo is ready for battle. He straightens his shirt and smoothes out his hair one last time before swinging his front door open and marching the twenty feet over to the neighboring unit.

Taking a deep breath of determination, Mattheo steels himself before giving a solid, firm knock on the door. A moment passes. Then two. Maybe this was a bad idea. Another moment goes bye. Mattheo is about to turn tail and flee back to his apartment when the door swings open, revealing Theo leaning casually against the door frame.

Nothing could have prepared him for what was waiting on the other side of the door. Nothing. All the confidence he’d built back up. Gone.

Theo’s eyes burned into him leaving scorching trails, his god forsaken smirk dancing across his lips as he stands in before Mattheo in nothing but a grey bath towel that clings dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t even flinch at the way Mattheo’s eyes rake his body up and down before forcing their way to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere else.

“Can I help you?” Theo’s voice comes out smooth, but Mattheo can still detect a hint of a snicker as his neighbor continues leaning on the door frame as if it were just another Tuesday.

“Uh, yeah, I mean no,” Mattheo hears himself stuttering like a bumbling idiot, and forces himself to stare at the ground, trying to compose himself. “I made cookies. Thought I’d bring some over as a thanks for the ride.”

He can feel the bob of his adam’s apple as he shifts awkwardly, thrusting the container out and trying not to ogle his neighbor’s very bare chest.

“I’d let you ride any time,” Theo replies, that sinister smirk securely in place as he accepts the container of cookies.

His fingers brush against Mattheo’s for a moment too long as Mattheo feels his brain short circuit. So much for being cool, confident, and collected.

“whAT,” Mattheo wheezes, sure he must have misheard.

But Theo just tilts his head cockily, eyes raking over the curly haired boy in front of him.

“You can ride any time. I know car stuff can be— inconvenient,” Theo replies smoothly, clearly enjoying Mattheo’s flustered state.

“Right! Yes. Thanks again. I’ll just— be going now,” Mattheo responds, tripping over his words once more before retreating back to his own apartment, Theo’s eyes burning into the back of his head.

As soon as the door closes behind him, Mattheo feels himself sink to the floor; face red, palms sweaty, and heart beating out of his chest. The hell was that. He was being messed with surely. There was no conceivable way a guy like that was flirting with a guy like him. No, he needed to calm down, and chill out before he embarrassed himself further.

God, what had he become.

Theodore Nott generally liked to keep to himself. He observed others from afar, kept his head down, and minded his business. He liked it that way.

What he did not do was greet new neighbors. And he definitely did not offer them a ride in his car, much less to go grocery shopping with him. And answering the door half naked and sopping wet? Absolutely not. So how he had gotten to this point, he really didn't know.

It had all started when Theo had returned home one day to find Mattheo jamming a key into the lock of his door with a look of sheer rage and determination. From the stacks of boxes lining the halls, it was clear that this was his new neighbor.

“Are you— are you trying to break into my apartment?” he'd asked, trying to make light of what was surely about to be an awkward situation.

What he hadn't taken into account was the fact that his new neighbor was ridiculously attractive. Theo could feel his chest tighten, feet shifting awkwardly as the new neighbor fumbles with the key, clearly agitated as Theo directs him to the correct door.

He does his best to keep his eyes from raking the new stranger up and down, but he can't help the way they lock onto the soft brown curls, or the faint scar on the bridge of his nose.

The new neighbor doesn't even spare him a second glance when he calls out his name before Theo escapes into the safety of his apartment. Well. That was enough social interaction for the week. Humbling as always.

Theo has no clue what comes over him the next morning when he sees his handsome neighbor bent over his car, the hood propped up, shielding him from the early morning sun. When he offers him a ride, he's sure the curly haired boy will say no and they'll both move on with their day, so he can't help the perhaps overeager grin that spreads across his face when the boy gives in.

He finally learns his new neighbor's name, Mattheo, on their drive to the nearest grocery store, and really Theo is too focused on the mantra of 'stay calm, don't be weird' repeating in his head to pay attention to much else other than the giddiness of being within arms reach of Mattheo for an extended period of time.

When it comes time to pay, Theo tries to insist that it's no big deal as he pulls out his wallet, but one look from Mattheo has him melting into the floor. His cool, care-less attitude had Theo in a choke-hold, and paired with those big, brown eyes? Theo feared he was in over his head.

What Theo had now dubbed 'the cookie catastrophe' truly felt like an out of body experience in which Theo had no choice but to watch on in absolute horror.

The knocking had started shortly after Theo had stepped out of the shower. He was going to ignore it like he usually would, but against his better judgment he shuffled over to the door, peeking through the peephole to find Mattheo waiting on the other side. Not a single thought was running through Theo's brain as he swung the door open, not realizing until it was too late that his hair was sopping wet and he hadn't even had the decency to throw on sweatpants.

He tried to play it cool, leaning casually against the door frame and just hoping that if he didn't acknowledge it, neither would Matt. He watches though as Mattheo's eyes widen slightly, taking in the sight before him and clearing his throat. A hint of red appears in his cheeks and Theo can't help but grin as Mattheo stutters a bit over his words. But as soon as Mattheo presents him with homemade cookies, Theo just knows he's done for.

He doesn't even hear the words come out of his mouth, “I’d let you ride any time,” until Mattheo is sputtering in front of him, cheeks burning red as he laughs nervously, arm reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

Theo can't help but admire the flexed bicep before quickly jumping to clarify that car issues could be annoying and hoping he'd saved any of what little dignity he had left. When Mattheo finally retreats back down the hallway, Theo slams his door shut with a resounding thud, the past several minutes feeling like a blur. What was wrong with him? He thought to himself, ripping the lid off the container and shoving a cookie into his mouth.

That's how he ended up here though, towel slung over his shoulder and clutching a bottle of shampoo in his free hand as he knocked shakily on Mattheo's door. He couldn’t help it. The only things he’d been thinking about these past few days were the way that blush had creeped up onto Mattheo’s face when he opened his door, and the way his muscles had flexed when he had reached up behind his head. But oh god, what was he doing here?

It's clear Mattheo is wondering the same thing when he opens the door, brows furrowing as his head tilts. Theo lets out a nervous cough.

"Ah, sorry to bother, the water's out in my apartment and I just got back from a run so I was wondering—" he lets the question hang in the air and Mattheo blinks once before rushing to pull the door open further.

"Yeah, of course, I mean sure. No problem," he replies, that familiar tinge of red once again painting his cheeks as Theo brushes past him. “Bathroom’s just there,” Matt says, directing him past the living room.

“Right, thanks,” Theo replies, taking his time to subtly glance about the apartment.

There was a sofa that looked like it had seen better days, a coffee table with take out containers littering the surface, the television had some movie flickering across the screen, and more boxes that needed to be unpacked.

As soon as the bathroom door closes behind Theo, his head falls back, a dry laugh escaping his lips. What had become of his life? This was psychopath behavior he thought wryly to himself. But he’d come this far.

Quickly switching the water on, Theo takes what has to be the fastest shower of his life before stepping out and doing his best to dry himself off. His sweatpants go on and then he looks at the ratty old short he’d worn over, another scandalous plan forming in his head. He really shouldn’t.

When he exits the bathroom, Mattheo’s head snaps onto him from his spot on the couch and Theo watches as the blood rushes to his face once more. He would never get tired of that.

“Whatcha watchin?” He asks, trying to keep a casual, straight face as Mattheo’s eyes noticeably lock in on his bare torso.

It takes a moment for Mattheo to respond and Theo can feel himself preening at the attention.

“Uh, whatever you want,” Mattheo replies, still openly gawking.

Theo raises an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face, a newfound confidence beginning to grow.

“You inviting me to stay?”

The question seems to shake Matt out of his stupor as he finally seems to realize he was staring and blinks up at Theo.

“Only if you want. I don’t want to hold you hostage or anything,” he jokes with a sheepish grin.

Theo finds himself letting out a low chuckle, humoring his neighbor as he takes a seat next to him, his shirt and towel all but forgotten in a heap on the floor.

“I’ll order us a pizza. Least I can do since you let me rack up your water bill.”

Mattheo knew that he was going crazy. He'd accepted it really because every time he closed his eyes, visions of his shirtless neighbor eating pizza on his couch and laughing at his bad jokes flooded his mind. It was like the images were burned into the back of his eyelids.

This however, was an entirely new level of insanity, even for him. See it started simple enough, Theo had caught up to him in the parking lot and walked into the building with him. Only when Mattheo had gotten to his door, he'd reached into his jacket pocket for his key only to come up completely empty.

His frantic search had apparently caught Theo's attention because his neighbor had turned towards him, head tilted in that annoyingly sweet way and asked if he'd forgotten his key. And then of course his neighbor had to be all benevolent and chivalrous and offer to let Mattheo stay over in his apartment because the office was closed and calling a locksmith would be annoying and expensive. And how could Mattheo possibly say no when Theo was looking at him with eyes like that?

Mattheo was just about to bashfully accept the offer when his hands slid into the back pockets of his jeans, fingertips grazing across the cool, hard metal of his key. Clutching his fist, he shoves the key deeper into his pocket before following Theo into his apartment.

And now here he sat on Theo's pristine leather sofa eating Chinese takeout while being hyper aware of how often Theo's knee was knocking into his own.

"I can grab you a pair of shorts or something so you don't have to sleep in jeans," Theo is saying, breaking Mattheo out of his thoughts.

"Sorry?" Mattheo mumbles, clearly having not been paying attention to Theo.

Theo just laughs though, setting down his box of noodles.

"I was saying that you could borrow a pair of shorts or something so you don't have to sleep in jeans. Unless you like sleeping in denim of course."

"No, no, that would be great, thanks," Mattheo replies quickly, shoving another bite of eggroll into his mouth before he could say anything else stupid.

Theo lets out another soft laugh, his head shaking slightly as he gets up and disappears into what Mattheo would assume to be the bedroom. He reemerges just moments later with a pair of black athletic shorts, tossing them onto the couch next to Mattheo.

“I’ll find a movie or something to watch if you want to get changed. Bathroom’s over there,” Theo tells him.

It only takes Mattheo a minute or two to change and settle his heart rate before he re-emerges, settling back down on the couch. He knows he must look stiff as a board sitting there, but he can’t not focus on the way Theo’s eyes flicker as he watches the television, or the way his arm is slung casually across the back of the sofa, his hand mere centimeters away from the back of Mattheo’s head.

Mattheo could not tell someone a single plot point of the movie they’d just watched by the time the screen goes dark. He was far too busy over thinking. Too busy in fact that he barely hears Theo announce that he’s going to run to the bathroom.

“Hey, you left your jeans in the bathroom,” Theo calls out as he opens the door.

As he goes to toss the crumpled pile of fabric, to Mattheo’s absolute horror, a gleam of metal shines through the air before clattering onto the floor. Two pairs of eyes lock onto the familiar looking metal key. Mattheo lets out a nervous laugh.

"It was in there all along?" he chuckles, decently sure that there was fear written across his face.

But Theo just raises an eyebrow, a smile growing on his lips.

"Yeah, you know that's crazy. I'm sure you didn't just happen to forget it was there so you'd have an excuse to hang out with me," he replies cockily, inching towards Mattheo like a lion hunting its prey.

Mattheo gulps.

"Nah. No. That would be crazy," Mattheo laughs.

Theo is directly in front of him now, bent down to look him straight in the eyes.

"Crazy like pretending the water is out in your apartment so that you can use your hot neighbor's shower instead?" he asks.

Mattheo can feel his eyes widen slightly at the implication, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he searches for words.

"I have never baked cookies before in my life. Also, that day you gave me a ride to the store, it was just my spark plug that was loose. I could have fixed it in two seconds," he blurts out.

Theo is laughing now, collapsed on the sofa beside him as Mattheo also lets out a loud laugh, the insanity of it all finally crashing down on the both of them.

"That actually feels really good to have off my chest," Mattheo says once they'd both calmed down.

His head is resting against Theo's shoulder and his hand is entrapped between Theo's fingers.

"I hope you know I think you're a psychopath," Theo says, though there's no real bite to his words.

Mattheo just snorts in response.

"Oh you're one to talk. By the way, who the hell answers the door half bloody naked? What was that about?" he asks.

"I was excited to see you," Theo defends.

Mattheo can hear the sheepish smile in his voice as he tilts his head to rest on top of Mattheo's and it's quiet for a moment.

"So does this mean I can convince you to sleep in the bedroom tonight instead of on the couch?" Theo asks.

"Won't take a lot of convincing," Mattheo replies.

A silly little idiots-in-love piece that’s completely unserious because I can’t get these two dorks out of my head🤪

[musingsofahufflepuff]

my fiancé (lovingly) dragged me to see revenge of the sith in theaters so now this blog is converting to a prequels blog, effective immediately

[musingsofahufflepuff]

guys, we’re so close. i’m almost 2k words into reluctant soulmates theo. i’m broadcasting this to force myself to finish it. so everyone yell at me if it’s not out in a week 😮‍💨

[musingsofahufflepuff]

A gentle reminder

you’re one of my favorite people, i hope you know that 🫶

[musingsofahufflepuff]

You should stick your finger in his ass like in that one movie

louis partridge? oh, i’ll put more than my finger in there 🙂‍↕️

[musingsofahufflepuff]

i want him to ruin my life

[musingsofahufflepuff]

guys…WHAT

i can’t believe there’s a thousand of you guys interested in my silly goofy writing 😭 i’ve been writing fanfic on wattpad and ao3 for like a decade and it blows me away that people continue to read my stuff. i love each and every one of you and i’m giving you all a lil virtual smooch on the noggin

bonus: here’s me being a dumbass over this with @suugarbabe 🙂‍↕️

anyway, cheers 🫶 more content on the way

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Alright y’all it’s time we have a discussion.

As a content creator who has been on Slytherin Boys tumblr for well over a year now, I say this with all the peace and love in the world your favorite writer did not invent that au that you love so much, and they do not need you jumping to their defense in every other writer’s inbox. I promise.

I have seen so many of my friends, and myself included, receive anon hate/asks because we dared to use the same or similar aus. And for why? Aus for topics like brothers best friend, girl/boy next door, carnival, insert any profession here, are not original. I’m sorry. There have been a million and one carnival fics across hundreds of different fandoms and there will continue to be. I have read multiple Slytherin frat boy fics across multiple platforms. Bsffr.

Please for the love of god stop trying to pit writers against each other, stop trying to create drama. I firmly believe that the large majority of us who write for the Slytherin boys are mature individuals who can speak to other writers ourselves if we truly feel our work is being used inappropriately.

I love my readers, and I’m sure other writers love their readers as well. I genuinely think that it’s a lovely thing that so many of you are willing to go to bat for your favorite writers because it truly takes so much time and effort to do what we do. But that does not mean you should be tearing down some writers to lift others up.

These are real people behind the screen. Remember that when you tap that ask button.

[musingsofahufflepuff]

deserved. you’re so talented 🙂‍↕️

Love Lies

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw! reader

Based on this request 🫶🏽

Summary: You’re just as confused as everyone else when your mortal enemy wakes up fully convinced that you’re the love of his life. (Spoiler alert: literally no one else was surprised)

word count: 5.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was cold and windy and wet as you stepped off the quidditch pitch, rain soaking you to your core. Thank Rowena you didn’t have to play an actual match in this weather. No, that honor went to the Slytherins and Gryffindors and you did not envy them at all, regular practice was enough for you.

As you make your way back to the locker rooms you see students and staff already beginning to fill the open stands and shake your head with pity. No amount of drying or warming charms were going to make it a comfortable match to sit through.

Just as you're about to turn into the locker rooms you feel yourself jerk back as a green robed shoulder slams past you, nearly knocking you off your feet.

“Watch it dolcezza,” a familiar voice slurs over the rain, condescension dripping from his words.

Despite your better judgement, you turn to find yourself facing none other than Theodore fucking Nott, broom in hand, and signature cocky smirk pasted across his face. God you hated that boy.

“Call me sweet again you pompous git,” you snap, glaring up at the Slytherin.

“Why waste my breath on you?” He retorts, matching your steely gaze, his lip curling up in a sneer.

You had never gotten along with Theodore. It was no secret among your classmates that the two of you hated each other. Despite being in many of the same NEWT level courses, sharing a love for quidditch, and both of you basically residing in the Hogwarts library, you simply could not tolerate one another’s presence.

It was strange perhaps, you’d done the analyzation yourself. By all accounts you two should probably be friends. But no amount of similarities or shared interests could make up for the fact that Theodore Nott was an insufferable, arrogant arse who only cared about maintaining his perfectly curated reputation.

"You're right Theodore, save a tree a bit of work why don't you. Rowena knows that tree is doing more for the world than you are," you reply coldly.

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but for maybe the first time ever, you see the boy falter, if only for a split second, before he's back to his usual stoic self. He scoffs.

"Just forget it, you're not worth it," he mutters under his breath, rolling those pretty blue eyes as he turns to go.

You shake your head at the boy, scoffing yourself.

"Yeah, do your best to forget me Nott, because I won't hesitate to forget you."

"Don't be mad."

"Just hear us out."

Oh dear god. As soon as you hear the combined voices of Mattheo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire, you know that you're about to be in for a ride. You look cautiously up at the pair from your seat in the library, on edge because wherever these two were, Theodore was sure to be nearby.

"He's not here if that's what you're worried about," Lorenzo offers with a nervous smile.

It's the kind of smile you would offer a skittish cat that you've cornered in hopes it doesn't bolt, and you had an unfortunate feeling that you were the cat in this scenario. Still you feel your shoulders relax a bit as the two carefully sit down at the table across from you.

"So uh. We heard about your, ah, little tiff, with Theo today," Lorenzo starts out awkwardly, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else in the castle at this moment.

"Bloody tosser never shuts up about you," Mattheo mutters so quietly you almost miss it.

You raise in eyebrow at the two boys in front of you, waiting for them to get to the point as Lorenzo gives Mattheo a sharp jab to the ribcage.

"Anyway," Lorenzo continues a bit too loudly, "There was a bit of an incident at the quidditch match today."

"Yeah, Slytherin lost. Again. I heard," you cut in, trying to wrap this up.

"Okay, ouch," Mattheo mutters once more, earning a glare from both you and Lorenzo.

"Did you also happen to hear that Theo was knocked of his broom?" Lorenzo asks.

Oh shit. As much as you couldn't stand Theodore, it's not as if you wanted the boy to get hurt. And you knew from personal experience, any quidditch injury should be taken rather seriously. But then, why were Theodore's two best friends sitting here in the library with you and not in the hospital wing with him?

You narrow your eyes at the boys across from you.

"So what does this all have to do with me? Nothing good could possibly come of you two starting the conversation with 'don't be mad' and 'just hear us out'."

Lorenzo fidgets nervously, shifting in his seat and Mattheo refuses to make eye contact with you. You truly had never seen the ever stone cold Slytherin boys look so wildly uncomfortable before.

"He got knocked out and when he woke up he was convinced the two of you are madly in love," Lorenzo rushes out, flinching back as if waiting for you to yell at him.

"And now the smitten tosser is requesting the presence of his beloved. He's really torn up about it too," Mattheo adds looking the most serious he’d been, probably ever.

But you were having none of it.

"Alright, hahaha, you almost had me there, you two actually sounded pretty sincere for a bit, but seriously it's not funny anymore. There's simply no reality where Theodore is in love with me, that's disgusting and I'm not stupid."

Mattheo and Lorenzo glance at each other with knowing looks before sighing in unison.

"On Salazar's good name, we are not lying or joking about this," Mattheo says solemly.

"And we didn't want to involve you in this whole thing anyway. We know about how well you and Theo get along. It's just that Madam Pomfrey is concerned that, until she's able to brew something to get Theo's head back on right, any world crushing stress or shock might have lasting, long-term psychological effects or what have you," Lorenzo finishes, emphasizing his last point rather strongly.

You continue to stare at the two boys in front of you as if their heads had been replaced by hippogriffs, slowly understanding what they were asking of you.

“Oh absolutely not. There’s literally no way. I’m not going up there.”

You hated the smell of the hospital wing. It was far too... sterile. Unnervingly so. The last hour of your life had been a blur and frankly you still weren't entirely sure how Lorenzo and Mattheo had managed to wrangle you all the way up to the hospital wing, but here you were.

As you make your way to the large double doors that lead into the infirmary, you send one last pointed glare to the pair of Slytherins behind you before turning, steeling yourself as you prepare for the worst.

The first thing you notice when you enter the brightly lit room is how strangely peaceful it is. As you quietly approach the rows of narrow hospital beds, the second thing you notice is how normal Theodore looks lying there asleep. There's no snarling lips, raised eyebrows, or biting words, it's just Theo. Tilting your head a bit, you're able to really admire the boy for the first time, not worrying about what insult he's going to throw at you next. He actually was rather attractive, you could see why so many of your classmates practically threw themselves at his feet. Maybe you would too if he weren't such an insufferable prat.

Just as you’re about to finally feel a bit more at ease, Theodore has to go and ruin it, because of course he does, by shifting a bit in his bed, eyes fluttering before settling softly on you.

“Morning dolcezza, finally come to see me hm?” he asks, lips curling up into a sickeningly sweet smile. You can see the adoration in his eyes as he looks up at you.

It should’ve been a sweet moment. Something straight out of a romance movie perhaps, but all you could hear was the way he had snarled ‘dolcezza’ at you earlier that day. Nothing but hatred and malice on his face. Not, this. Whatever it was.

“Please don’t call me that,” you blurt out, your body subconsciously stiffening, ready for whatever Theodore was about to throw back at you.

Instead though, he looks hurt. A frown flickers across his face making him look like a kicked puppy and you instantly feel a wave of guilt crash over you.

What the hell had happened out on that quidditch pitch.

Before the situation could get any more uncomfortable than it already was, Madame Pomfrey saves the day as she comes whisking into the hospital wing to check up on her charge.

“Hello dearie, you must be the one Mr. Nott has been going on about all evening,” she says with a knowing glance as she gives Theodore a quick inspection. “Now it’s been my understanding that Mr. Nott hasn’t quite been, well, himself since he woke up. Unfortunately, the specific brew that’s needed for these kinds of things takes a full moon cycle to whip up. Until then...”

You stare at the witch in horror. The idea of being stuck with Theodore for the next month made you want to vomit.

“I feel fine,” Theodore protests, shoving himself into a sitting position and reaching out to clasp onto your hand.

It takes everything in you to not recoil away and you shoot a look at Madam Pomfrey, hoping she’d speak some reason into the boy.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she says instead, “Mr. Nott is clear to go, but do come back if you start feeling dizzy again, I simply won’t have another student fainting in the corridors.”

With that, she ushers Theodore up and out of bed before shooing the both of you out of the hospital wing.

Once the metal doors clang shut behind you, you feel Theodore reach out, grabbing your hand once more.

“Let me walk you to your common room then?” He asks, giving your hand a light squeeze, already tugging you in the direction of Ravenclaw tower.

Resistance seemed futile at this point, so you let the boy drag you along doing your best to avoid conversation and eye contact. You receive several very bewildered stares as you pass your classmates in the hallway, but thankfully no one says anything. Not to your face anyway.

When you finally arrive at your common room door, even the golden eagle mounted to the door looks baffled by your choice of Slytherin companion.

Before you can pull away, Theo presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and you jerk away from him.

“Um, I’ll see you tomorrow carissima,” he murmurs, eyebrows furrowed a bit before he turns and disappears down the corridor.

The first week with Theodore glued to your side is, for lack of better words, literal hell. The next morning on your way down to the great hall for breakfast you simply want to melt into the floor in horror when you find Theodore waiting outside your common room door, garnering a good number of whispers and stares from your fellow housemates.

He takes hold of your hand once again and you begrudgingly follow, silently cursing the brunette boy and the rest of his bloodline.

“Have you finished the charms essay Flitwick assigned last week?” Theodore asks as you stroll through the corridor.

You want to burst out laughing at how comically mundane the question was given the absurdity of the whole situation, but you do your best to keep it together.

“Not quite, just have to wrap up the last few lines I think,” you reply, trying to keep it short.

“We can finish up in the library together tonight then,” Theodore decides.

You open your mouth to protest, but close it just as fast. If you were going to be stuck with this tosser, you might as well extort him you think begrudgingly to yourself.

You can feel several pairs of eyes on you as you sit down next to Theodore at the Slytherin table. Your blue robes stick out like a sore thumb making you rather self conscious. Still, his friends all greet you as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to have you sitting with them and you feel like you’ve entered the twilight zone.

As the rest of the week goes by, it’s all more of the same. Trying to hold back a grimace every time Theodore takes your hand or kisses your forehead good night, pretending you weren’t completely weirded out by the way his friends had so easily adapted you into their little group, ignoring the whispers and side eyes from other students.

Objectively speaking, this could be much worse. Theodore was actually rather tolerable to be around when you weren’t throwing insults back and forth. The real issue was that every time you thought to yourself that Theodore Nott might not be all bad, you’d get a sudden flashback of him and his friends picking on some innocent first or second year, or playing a particularly foul game of quidditch, or the time they’d hexed poor Hermione Granger’s teeth to keep on growing like a beaver's and you’d feel sick to your stomach.

You really didn’t think your hatred for Theodore was all that misplaced. When it came down to it, he and his friends could be down right bullies and you loathed the way they acted as if they were above others. Even now when it came down to it, your whole part in this little cooked up scheme was to protect Theodore’s ego.

It's in the second week that your perception on things begins to crack. You'd been spending a lot of time with Theodore and his friends and, you didn't really know what you had expected, but, it wasn't this.

It was the first time you'd ever been in the Slytherin common room. All dark and cold and dreary. Nothing like Ravenclaw tower, but they were on two opposite ends of the spectrum you supposed. You were sat next to Theodore, buried in your book, one that he had given you, and trying to ignore everything going on around you when a group of first year Slytherins come stumbling into the dungeons, huddled around a young boy who's skin was an alarming shade of electric purple.

You're not prepared for the way the students around you jump into action. Daphne Greengrass is by the boy's side in moments, wiping tears from his cheek as Lorenzo and Pansy interrogate some of the other's as to what had happened.

It had been some second year Gryffindors, one girl said her lower lip trembling. Apparently they had gotten their hands on some of the Weasley twins' underground candies and tricked the poor boy into eating a few.

You watch silently as Draco and Blaise examine the boy before ushering him off to their dormitory, confidently telling him a cure would be easy enough to brew.

In all the commotion, you don't notice Mattheo and Marcus Flint sneaking off to go find a certain group of young lions. But Theodore does.

"Better go make sure they don't take things too far," he sighs, rising from his place next to you and giving your hand a squeeze before following the other boys out of the dungeon. You don't even have time to protest.

You're about to just return to your common room and call it a night when Daphne finds her way over to you, having calmed down most of the shaken up first years, and sits down next to you.

"Sorry you had to see all that," she sighs looking tired and worn down.

"I didn't realize you all were so close," you state, gesturing to some of the older students who had seemingly taken some of the younger ones under their wing now.

"We have to be. If we aren't on our own side, who else will be?" she replies.

When she's met with silence she gives you a tight lipped smile before turning, ready to go.

"So when Theodore and Mattheo get into fights, is it always because—?" You let your words trail off, not really sure where you were taking this and Daphne turns to face you once more.

"Honestly? No. Sometimes they can just be massive pricks. They usually make up for it though." Daphne says as you nod your head in response. "We really do appreciate what you're doing for Theo," she says, switching topics. "I know you don't exactly see eye to eye, and honestly I can't blame you. I know how the boys can be. But between you and me, I've always suspected that he actually liked you, at least a little bit. Maybe this knock to the head got him to finally come to his senses," she laughs.

"I don't know about that. I'm pretty certain once Madam Pomfrey whips up that potion, he'll be right back where we left off," you reply, adding in your own nervous laughter.

"You're only saying that because you don't know what he was really like before. You don't have to believe me, but if you really gave him a chance- you never know."

"Maybe, but I'm pretty sure about this."

Daphne shrugs her shoulders.

"Suit yourself, but um, if you wouldn't mind, maybe don't go spreading this whole incident around the school? We try to keep these kinds of things, discreet. Don't want the other houses to see us sweat and all."

You take a good look at the girl beside you and then at the room full of Slytherin students around you, realizing for the first time that it really did seem as if they had the whole school against them.

"No, of course not. I didn't see a thing," you tell her.

Daphne gives you a grateful smile as she rises to leave.

"He'll be back in a bit. Probably be glad to see you still here," she says before disappearing to her own dormitory.

It's not long before Theodore finally returns, his face lighting up when he spots you still tucked cozily away in your corner, nose buried in the pages of your book.

Theo was very confused to say the least. It had been almost three weeks since he'd been knocked off his broom in that match against the Gryffindors, and things just felt, off. Truth be told, he couldn't really seem to remember much of anything since before the fall. Not clearly at least. It was all fuzzy shadows and warped conversation, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make sense of it all.

The only thing he was really certain about, was you. He remembered dreaming about you while he was asleep in the hospital wing, and how angry you had been that day before his match, though he couldn't quite place why. He had worried that that was why you weren't there when he woke up, maybe you were mad at him.

But then the next time he opened his eyes you were there, gazing down at him, and everything had just felt right. Your hand had slotted perfectly with his and he was sure that, out of everyone, you were the person he could trust the most.

So why did you look like you were in pain every time he approached? Why did you flinch away whenever his lips brushed the top of your head? Why did it feel as if you were holding him at an arms length?

All this swirled around in Theo's mind as he sat on the library sofa next to you, watching the warm glow of the fireplace dance across your face.

"Have I done something to make you upset carissima?" Theo asks, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them.

You look up at him, startled by the abrupt question as you snap your book shut.

"No, why do you ask?"

Theo watches you turn your body to face him now, tilting your head as he furrows his eyebrows, trying to put the words together.

"I just, remember things being different, I think," he replies, hating how his brain wasn't letting him form cohesive thoughts.

"Oh?" You look surprised at his statement, eyes darting away from him and Theo can tell he's onto something.

"Was it before the match? Before I fell? Were we fighting about something carissima?" He asks again.

It's obvious you're thinking hard about what to say as Theo reaches out to take your hands in his. For once you don't flinch away from his touch, instead just staring at your intertwined fingers.

"It was something like that," you mumble as Theo rubs careful circles around your knuckles.

“I don’t think I remember a lot very clearly. It’s frustrating sometimes,” Theo admits. “But I remember you.”

“Yeah? What do you remember about me?”

“I remember how you always say hello to the painting outside of the charms classroom. And how you like to sneak snacks into astronomy. I remember the time in third year when we were flying on the quidditch pitch and you were about to get hit by a bludger so I had to move you out of the way.”

You blink at the last memory Theodore shares. You knew what he was talking about, but that’s not how you remembered it. You had been flying yes, when Theodore had come out of nowhere, shoving you while in the sky and then turning, laughing while calling you an idiot. You’d never even seen the bludger.

“I remember kissing you under the bleachers, and holding you by the fireplace. I remember you telling me you loved me.”

And that's where he lost you. Those memories, you didn't know where they came from, but for Theo, they were real. And who knew he was such a sap? You'd never thought the boy was even capable of having emotions.

"Can we start over? I don't remember why you were upset. But I'm sorry. I just want what little memory I have to go back to normal."

Theo watches as you let out a deep sigh. Every word out of Theodore’s mouth was like a punch to the gut, absolutely devastating any sort of resolve you had still been holding.

“Sure Theodore.”

“Just Theo,” he corrects as he pulls you into his arms, tucking your head snuggly under his chin.

The last week you have with Theo, or at least with this version of him, you spend trying not to get too attached. You'd grown rather used to having the boy appear by your side to carry your books or to sneak snacks into the library for you when you'd spent the last several hours putting the final touches on your ancient runes essay. You didn't even mind having to constantly tell him and Mattheo to quiet down anymore.

As it turned out, Daphne had been right about one thing. Theodore and his friends could absolutely be obnoxious, arrogant, pompous pricks, but they did have their ways of charming their way back into your favor. The little parasites. They'd grown on you.

You knew that Madam Pomfrey had finished brewing the elixir before Mattheo could open his mouth just by the guilty expressions on his and Lorenzo's faces when they walked into the Slytherin common room. You'd been frequenting the dungeons a lot more recently, but it looked like that was about to come to an end.

"It's ready then?" you ask, tucking your book away as your hand falls to rest on Theo's arm.

Mattheo just nods his head as you all turn to look at Theo who's still focused on his own book.

"Hey. Madam Pomfrey says she wants to give you one last check. Just to make sure your head is on straight," Mattheo says, thumping Theo on the shoulder.

"Why? I feel fine," Theo replies, an air of annoyance laced in his voice as he's torn away from his book.

"Don't know mate. Just humor the old bat," Enzo sighs.

Theo rolls his eyes before reluctantly rising from the couch, offering you a hand up as well.

"Coming along carissima?" he asks, already reaching out for your hand, but you dodge away.

"I think I'm going to head back up to Ravenclaw tower actually. It's getting pretty late," you reply, feigning a small yawn.

As you exit the dungeons, Enzo catches you by the arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with? We don't know for sure that he'll, ya know, go back."

"It's fine Lorenzo. I just- I really can't be up there. We all knew this wasn't a real, permanent thing. I just want to finish my book," you reply, backing away. "I hope Theodore feels more himself, I guess."

You can see Lorenzo's face visibly shift as you revert back to Theodore's full name, his whole demeanor stiffening.

"Right well. Have a night y/n."

And then he's gone.

When you finally make it all the way back to your tower, you collapse onto one of the sofas overlooking the castle grounds, eager to distract yourself by diving back into you book.

"Just come back from the dungeons?" the voice of Marietta Edgecombe asks, dragging your attention away from your novel.

You nod your head, hoping your short answer would encourage the girl to move on quickly.

"I called that one so early on. I've been telling Cho for years, those two are going to end up together, I just know it. And I was right!" she says gleefully, giving your shoulder a little squeeze before flouncing off.

“You came,” Theodore’s voice rings out from his spot on one of the stone benches that lined the walls of the astronomy tower.

“I did,” you reply carefully, watching as he leans back inviting you forward.

It had been almost two weeks since the antidote had been brewed and Theodore looked like he hadn’t slept at all in that time frame. You’d spent that time avoiding him, and all the Slytherins really.

You were confused and you hadn't known what to expect when Theodore came back down from the hospital wing. It had been a strange past month, and now you weren't sure where it left the two of you. What did he remember? Did he care?

You take slow steps forward, Theodore’s eyes never leaving yours until you’re standing directly in front of him. He continues to just stare at you, the silence becoming deafening.

“What do you want, Theodore?” You ask finally, growing frustrated as you let out an agitated sigh.

“Just to talk, dolcezza,” he replies lazily, patting the spot on the bench beside him.

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but taking a seat anyway.

“Don’t call me Theodore,” he shoots back.

You feel your eyebrows raise.

“So you remember then?” You ask.

“I remember. Everything from the past month. And before.”

There’s another pause, less uncomfortable this time though as you both consider his words.

“So why am I here Theo?”

“Cause I can’t keep you out of my head mostly,” he replies, rather resigned to the fact.

“Have you tried?”

Theo gives you an exasperated look.

“Obviously. If I could, I’d just loose feelings for you, but it’s not exactly easy to fall out of love with someone you’ve been holding onto for so long. What do you think I’ve been doing for the last two weeks?” He grumbles stubbornly.

"What do you mean 'holding onto for so long'?" you ask, giving the boy a puzzled look. You'd hardly call a month a long time.

Theo just looks at you again as if silently willing you to simply read his mind. Unfortunately for him, that's not how osmosis works. With another long, drawn out sigh, Theo rests his elbows on his knees letting his head fall into his hands as he mumbles incoherently into his palms.

"Huh?"

He mumbles something again, louder this time. You squint at the boy, trying to make something out.

"If you're trying to confess your undying love for me, you're doing an awful job," you tell him.

This gets Theo to glare up at you, a pout almost visible on his lips. Oh how the mighty fall.

"I've liked you for years," he mutters, his chin resting in his palms now as he refuses to look at you. Pride really was a strange thing.

"Well, you've been truly terrible at showing it, you insufferable prat," you say, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Theo just let's out a grunt, watching your hand on the bench next to him from the corner of his eye. Dear Rowena, you had no idea how you'd ended up falling for this prick.

"But, I suppose you've been, significantly less insufferable this last month or so," you finish, carefully resting your head on his shoulder.

"If you're trying to say you like me too, you're doing an awful job," Theo responds, causing you to immediately tear yourself away from the boy once more.

A smile finally cracks Theo's lips as he smirks playfully up at your deadpan reaction.

"I take it back. I actually hate you. You are the worst."

"Aw, come on now carissima, did the last month mean nothing to you?" Theo asks, pulling you back into him, the same way he did that one night in the library.

"It meant literally nothing. You were being weirdly nice and clingy the whole time," you reply, begrudgingly feeling yourself melt into him.

It wasn't your fault you'd been going through withdrawals the last two weeks, okay? Theo's chest shakes with laughter against your head.

"Contrary to popular belief, I can be somewhat tolerable sometimes."

"Then why the fuck have you spent the last several years being such a prick? It was just pushing me away you know."

"That was kind of the point," Theo says, making you scoff. "Love is weakness and all."

God, the emotional whiplash was going to make you sick.

"Well, which one is the real you?"

"Can't it be both?"

"Not if you want me to put up with your sorry arse."

Theo lets out another quiet laugh.

"Well, you might have to learn to love both sides, because I do fear you're stuck with me," Theo responds, pulling you closer to his chest. "Now come here you little minx."

Before you can protest, Theo's hand has found your chin, tilting your head up just enough for him to capture your lips with his own. It's soft, hesitant at first, as if he's not sure if you'll pull away or not. But your hand finds its way into his hair, pulling him closer still as you move your lips against his, nipping, teasing. You can feel the smile grow on Theo's face as he deepens the kiss, his other hand finding it's way to rest on your thigh.

When you finally pull away, you can still feel his warm breath on your face as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"For the record, I still hate you," you say, still slightly out of breath, a teasing smile playing across your lips.

"I'm sure you do carissima. I hate you too," Theo replies before engulfing you in his arms once more.

Taglist: @adreamingpendulum @ahead-fullofdreams

[musingsofahufflepuff]

fuck u joanne

*makes ur villain’s son a gay trans man*

[musingsofahufflepuff]

sub!mattheo this, sub!mattheo that…what about sub!LORENZO!!!! that man is so cocky 90% of the time but when he’s comfortable with you, he is sooo submissive. like im talking a raging mommy kink, nursing handjobs all the time day, and begging you to ride him. he loves seeing you cry, but he is also a crier. he definitely cries when you let him come after edging you. and then he SOBS when you overstimulate him after.

he would be such a submissive bitch, whining and whimpering and just pathetic!!!! lorenzo berkshire is a pathetic pathetic man!!!

i need more submissive slytherin boys content on this platform. why does tumblr hate submissive men? 😔😔

ok ok, i LOVE sub!enzo 😤 i feel like he’d have no problems being a sub too, cuz he cares about his own pleasure a lot. and if being a sub is what brings him that pleasure, then he’s just gonna do it. although, i do feel like at first, he’s gonna try to be like a power sub and a brat, still trying tease you while you’ve literally been edging him for an hour. but when you manage to break him and make him whimper and cry for real, oh honey… he just lets go and becomes the whiniest, most subby man in the history of ever. and he’s enjoying the hell out of it. you wanna make him cum two or ten times? he’s gonna take it all and beg for more. my personal favourite is sitting on his face while he’s crying after being denied for the umpteenth time.

also, what immediately came to my mind when i first saw this ask is @leona-hawthorne’s fic. this is one of my fav enzo works ever, so definitely go give it a read if you’re a fan of sub!enzo <3 (i made her unprivate it just for this)

[musingsofahufflepuff]

this is canon actually

personal hc that mattheo riddle is 5’8”

[musingsofahufflepuff]

a bit tangential and rambling, but since i’ve been sitting on thoughts surrounding this topic for a while i figured now is as good of time as any. sorry for potentially hijacking your post babes

as a queer person who has always felt a bit unwelcome in most spaces, including the slytherin boys fandom, i completely understand wanting to complain about it. and i’d be willing to bet a large portion of the people wanting representation are trans and nonbinary people, who want to feel included in a fandom they enjoy. does it frustrate me that the vast majority of content in the fandom is centered on an, oftentimes hyperfeminine, woman’s perspective? yes. does that mean i should attempt to strong arm real, actual people into writing what i want? no.

so, what are some solutions to this problem? first and foremost, do not harass any creators over what they do or do not want to create. these are real people behind the screen and harassing anyone is never okay, for any reason. now that that’s out of the way:

1. write the content you want to see. this one is the obvious. it’s how you start to build more of a community for these demographics in the fandom. i know this isn’t always helpful advice for people who can’t or don’t want to write, so:

2. support masc and gender neutral content creators. i want to scream this from the rooftops. i have seen so many genuine masterpieces written for m!readers that will more than likely never receive the fanfare that straight fics will. i have personally experienced this, some of my favorite pieces i’ve dedicated months to, overwhelmingly underperform because they are mlm.

if you want more male!reader content, you have to support the small number of us who already write it. reblog fics, comment, make requests, whatever you want. i’m linking to my rec list for m! & gn! content, please check these people out and add to the list if you know someone i missed.

and to my lovely mutuals and f!reader creators, it genuinely means the world to me when you do write gn! or m!reader fics. it’s hard to adequately express how much i appreciate feeling seen and recognized by those pieces. and for anyone who doesn’t want to write for those demographics, it is equally as appreciated when you reblog a m! or gn!reader fic, when you support our work on your platform.

sorry this was so long, i’m a yapper

hi my loves, if you could reblog this post, i’d really appreciate it <3 it’s a little insane how comfortable people are getting with criticizing what kind of content other people decide to put out.

at the end of the day, writing fanfiction is a hobby. it’s not a job, it’s not something we are rewarded for. it’s something we do for our own fun, whether that be writing fluff, angst, or smut, it’s for our own enjoyment. you cannot complain about the fandom being “clogged up” by one specific genre. for example, if the majority of a fandom wants to write smut, then that’s that. that’s what they want to write, that’s what they feel most inspired by in that moment. you don’t get to dictate what other people decide to do with their own hobby, and complaining about it is just as bad. to be frank, if you try to do that, you are incredibly annoying and honestly very childish.

and another thing that relates here—people complaining about who certain fics are targeted for. believe me, i understand that it’s frustrating to not be able to find many male!reader fics. i understand expressing disappointment about that. but what is entirely different here, is complaining about how other writers don’t write male!reader. how are you gonna sit there on your ass and whine about other people not catering to a demographic they don’t even fit into themselves? many writers don’t write male!reader because they feel they do not know how to capture the male/mlm experience properly and do it justice, while others don’t do it because they simply do not enjoy writing it. either way, that is completely valid. people should only be writing things they genuinely want to write and enjoy, not things that cater to your specific needs. and it really bugs me in the harry potter fandom specifically because this fandom is so big. if you just looked under the right tags, you could find as many male!reader fics or as many non-smut fics as you wanted, but instead you’re out here bitching about how what other people write isn’t up to your standards.

if you want something different so bad, write your own shit. sorry to be blunt about it.

[musingsofahufflepuff]

i’ve got ~45 messages in my inbox including requests so i figured i’d give an update on the requests i’m actively working on:

♡ locker room post-quidditch!mattheo x m!reader

♡ enzo x theo

♡ patronus headcanons

♡ first time with mattheo x m!reader

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Written in the Stars

Mattheo Riddle x Theodore Nott; fluff & angst

summary: Mattheo Riddle figures he must have the worst luck in the universe when his soulmate mark appears, only to lead him right to his best friend. The last person he wanted to ruin his relationship with.

a/n: was genuinely so inspired by this concept i wrote it in record time. and yes, i did draw the silly little soulmate marks bc i was that obsessed. okay okay, enjoy all my lil mattheodore shippers ♡

The day his soulmate mark appeared on the inside of Mattheo’s wrist, he knew he was fucked. He swore he could hear the universe laughing it up at his misery, the great misfortune of it all. If you didn’t know him, you’d think maybe he just didn’t care for the concept of soulmates at all. Or he just wasn’t all that interested in settling down. But how wrong that was. No. Mattheo Riddle desperately longed for a soulmate. Someone who would love him unconditionally through all of his flaws and imperfections. The problem then? It just so happened to be his best friend.

So when he wakes up that morning, skin burning like it was doused in fire and sees that, that stupid little…coffee cup? he damn near has a panic attack. It’s like he can feel his lungs closing in slow motion as he turns and peeks out of the curtain enclosing his four poster, eyes finding the bed directly to his right. Theo’s bed. Fuck.

Mattheo quickly pulls the curtain closed once again, deciding in that moment he won’t be going to classes today. Or maybe ever again. If that’s what it takes to avoid Theodore. And Merlin’s beard, just the thought of never again hearing that Italian accent, the stupid jokes, the late night conversations with nothing but the smoke and stars to hear them, makes his very being ache, heart constricting worse than his lungs just moments ago. He stares up at the ceiling, white noise of Enzo snoring in the next bed over slowly drowning out his thoughts as he wills himself to calm down.

Somehow he must have managed to fall back asleep because he’s rudely awoken by Enzo being loud as fuck as he stumbles around getting ready. He finally pulls back the curtain at a particularly loud thump of Enzo bumping—no, slamming—into his bedside table, eyes still half shut.

Blaise’s voice comes from the direction of his bed, “mate, some of us are trying to get a bit of extra sleep, can you not?”

There’s a moment of silence before Enzo is mumbling out what can only be assumed to be an apology. Mattheo groans and, noticing the curtain is still pulled closed on Theo’s bed, decides now is the best time to make his escape. Thank Merlin there’s no Quidditch practice today. Maybe he can put this whole soulmate thing off until tomorrow…or never. If he’s lucky. He gets ready in record time and before Enzo has figured out how to tie his shoes in his barely awake state, Mattheo is out the door and halfway up the flight of stairs out of the Slytherin common room.

When he stops by the Great Hall it’s relatively empty, only a few groups of people scattered around the various tables. Draco and Pansy are already up and talking over breakfast when he goes to swipe a couple pieces of toast. Stupidly, he reaches out with his right hand. The one with the soul mark. Fuck. How many times is that going to run through his head today? It’s not off to a good start, he thinks to himself.

Of course, ever the insufferable gossip, Pansy immediately notices. “Matt! Is that—”

“No.” His response is a bit too fast, the motion to yank his sleeve down a bit too jerky. Her eyebrow raises skeptically. She turns to look at Draco and for a moment, Mattheo swears they can communicate telepathically. He’d be more annoyed than surprised if they could.

This time Draco responds, “you sure? Because it sure looks like—”

“Yes! I’m sure! Thank you Draco!” Mattheo shoves his toast in his mouth, dry, and he has to stop himself from making a face of regret. Before they can continue their interrogation, Mattheo is promptly turning and leaving the dining hall. To where? He’s not sure.

When Theodore wakes up, he’s alone in the dorm. Not the most unusual thing except for one critical piece: Mattheo is also gone. As Theo looks to his left he notices his best mate’s bed is a mess, giving him more reason to pause. Figuring he must have had something urgent to do, Theo tries to push the thought from his mind—before his attention is pulled to a dull ache on his left wrist.

A snake coiled around a cigarette, smoke rising from the end and dispersing into stars is etched onto the skin there and…oh. Oh.

If there’s one thing Mattheo is particularly good at, it’s evading people. So really, Theo shouldn’t have been surprised to find out he could not corner the other boy, no matter how hard he tried. At breakfast he was told Mattheo had been in and out in a hurry, curtesy of Draco and Pansy; the pair looking like they had a million questions for him. However, they knew Theo well enough to understand it would be pointless to try and squeeze anything out of him. At least something is going in his favor this morning.

Next he attempted to get Mattheo alone in one of their lectures. They usually sat together and everyone knew it, so Theo allowed himself to hope today would be the same. He was sorely mistaken.

As he walks into the Transfiguration classroom, he sees Mattheo alone at a table. Perfect. He starts to head that way, but just before he could make it, Mattheo is grabbing Enzo’s arm as he walks past and yanking him into the chair beside him. Enzo seems a bit stunned but doesn’t argue. Theo has to hold back a groan and string of curses in front of McGonagall as she steps up to the front of the classroom. Reluctantly, he takes a seat next to Blaise. He spends the rest of the period staring at the back of Mattheo’s curls, like it will somehow let him figure out whatever is going on in his soulmate’s thick head.

By the time lunch rolls around, Mattheo had managed to dodge him at every turn. The next two classes after Transfiguration had been a bust, despite Enzo learning his lesson and side stepping Mattheo’s attempt to grab him again. Mattheo had even elected to sit next to a Gryffindor to avoid him. If Theo didn’t believe Mattheo was doing this out of some weird anxiety response, his feelings would have been hurt. With the new mark on his wrist, it was like he felt Mattheo’s absence tenfold, rejection tugging the very fibers of his heart apart. No matter, he’ll just have to be persistent.

Theo is one of the first Slytherins in the Great Hall, finding their group’s usual spot and sitting down. His eyes are trained on the doors, waiting for the curly haired boy to walk through. It takes several minutes and dozens of students coming in for Matt to show up. Brown eyes almost instantaneously find his, a small grimace appearing on Mattheo’s features. It’s like a swift blow to the gut.

Nonetheless, Mattheo plops himself down at the table with Enzo close behind. As the rest of the lads file in, Enzo looks between them. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but it’s making the vibe weird.” Blaise smacks Enzo upside the head for the comment, earning a disgruntled “hey! rude!” in return. On Theo’s side of the table, Draco and Pansy are having one of their silent conversations, looking between Theo and Mattheo like they’re trying to dissect them. Mattheo stares down his plate as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, while Theo continues to look at him, stoic and unwavering.

Pansy’s eyes trail down to Theo’s hand where it rests on the table next to his untouched plate, gaze locking in on the bit of skin peeking out of Theo’s sleeve, a hint of black ink on his wrist. Her eyes go wide and Matt, with his instincts almost as sharp as that of a wild animal, immediately notices. He sends her a glare, challenging her to say something. She just slyly smirks, only serving to send an anxious wave over Mattheo, settling in his stomach.

The moment he’s done eating, Matt is grabbing his bag. “Woah, where are you going in a hurry?” Blaise asks, eyes a bit wide in surprise.

“Yeah, you always wait until the last possible second to leave,” Enzo adds, head cocking to the side. “Seriously, what’s gotten into you mate?”

All the while, Theo is staring holes into Mattheo so hard it makes his skin tingle. “Just uh, gotta finish that DADA essay. Got at least a foot left. Could take all afternoon. Busy busy busy, y’know,” Mattheo is internally screaming at himself to shut up please, but he’s rambling nervously and Theo can definitely tell. Hell, Blaise and Enzo probably can too.

As Mattheo makes his hasty exit, Theo decides to get up and follow him out. Enzo tags along if only to watch the drama unfold. “Wait! Matt!”

He only stops briefly outside the doors to the rest of the castle, “sorry, can’t. Gotta go to the library. Bye guys.” Then he’s disappearing out another set of doors. Theo groans.

“Does…does Mattheo even know where the library is?”

“I don’t think so. Cause it’s in the opposite direction.”

Mattheo in fact does not know where the library is and manages to get himself lost. Twice. The second time he has to ask for directions he’s tempted to just give up and go hide out somewhere to wait for his next class. How the hell did he not know where the damn library is? He’s been going to school here for years.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes Theo is always leading the way and if not for him, Mattheo doesn’t think he’d ever step foot in the musty place. But Theo said it had charm, liked the way the books smelled or some nerd shit like that. He groans. Merlin, he kinda misses Theo’s stupid intellectualism. Especially now when he doesn’t even know where to begin with his stupid essay.

Fuck.

Evening slowly hits and Mattheo finds himself sitting in the common room feeling like a shell of himself. Just a husk of person, wanting to sink into the sofa permanently. The day has felt like one of the longest of his life, lonelier than he has felt in years. He’d grown so accustomed to Theodore’s constant presence that he felt the lack of him everywhere in everything. As the clock ticks by and the bustle of the common room fades into a monotonous blur, he sits there, lost in his thoughts. Maybe there was some merit to this whole…destined by the universe thing. Theo was the one person Mattheo felt he could trust implicitly. Someone he can talk to for hours and never truly run out of things to say. Even when there are dips in their conversations there’s a simple sort of serenity to just existing with him. And for the first time all day, Mattheo is no longer scared of the little mug on his wrist.

And he doesn’t bolt the moment Theodore walks down the stairs.

“Can we talk? Preferably not…here?” Mattheo surprises himself when the words come out of his mouth as soon as the other boy is within ear shot. Theo just nods dumbly.

They make their way up to the Astronomy Tower like so many times before, each step up the many staircases heavy, a thick tension in the air that penetrates your bones. But it’s not uncomfortable. It never is with Theodore.

There’s no one up here this early in the evening, the sun setting in an ocean of pinks and oranges before stars with inevitably begin twinkling in the sky. The pair make themselves comfortable on the ground, Theo’s legs in a lazy cross while Mattheo pulls his knees to his chest in a nervous gesture he never quite managed to shake. Theo doesn’t speak, doesn’t even look his way immediately. He just waits for Mattheo to be ready.

They sit in silence for a few moments while Matt gathers his thoughts. Then slowly, “so…soulmates huh?”

Theo pulls his gaze away from the lowering sunlight to Mattheo’s face, getting caught in the way his brown eyes seem to glow a softer shade in this light. “Yeah. Soulmates.”

“Are you…disappointed?” when all Mattheo receives in response is a confused quirk of Theodore’s eyebrows, he elaborates, “that I’m your soulmate and not someone…I dunno, better? Less…me?”

The intense expression evaporates from Theo’s features, instead replace by a softness. “How could I possibly be disappointed? We’ve been best mates since forever, why wouldn’t I want to be with you for the rest of it?”

“Well, it changes things, right? Everyone will expect us to be…romantic and all that bullshit.”

“So? I’m not soulmates with everyone else, I’m soulmates with you. Why should anyone else’s opinion matter?”

Mattheo takes a moment to think it over. It’s true he supposes, it’s up to him and Theo alone to decide what the terms of their relationship is, everyone else be damned. But there’s something in him, repressed and shoved so deep down he barely recognizes it, but it’s there. He doesn’t want to be just friends. Couldn’t be just platonic soulmates with Theo. So for the second time that day, he surprises himself and reaches out for Theo’s hand.

Physical touch isn’t exactly uncommon between them, but it’s usually reserved for roughhousing or instances they could wave away as just guys being bros. But this is different, closer to the way they tend to sit just a bit too close on the sofas in the common room or the way their thighs graze in the Great Hall or any of the little moments they keep between the two of them. And it feels right.

Mattheo picks up Theo’s hand in his, turning it so he can see the soul mark. His eyes scan over the snake and cigarette and breathes a sigh of relief that there’s nothing resembling the dark mark in it. He doesn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself if he’d managed to unwittingly brand Theodore with even a hint of the damn thing. “At least yours is immediately recognizable, what even is this? A cuppa?” He flips his wrist over to display his own mark. Theo chuckles good-naturedly.

“It’s a latte, you can tell because the snake is made of microfoam,” his finger traces over the snake in the mug. Next to the mug on the saucer is cigarette much like the one on Theo’s wrist, only this one’s smoke forms a heart. Mattheo thinks it’s rather cheesy, but he can’t deny it suits Theo well.

“What the hell is microfoam, Teddy?” a grin has worked it’s way onto Mattheo’s face as he listens to his best mate—no, soulmate—explain the intricacies of espresso and the many ways you can prepare it. All while he watches damn near lovestruck, like the boy in front of him is the one who hung the stars overhead just for him.

And yeah, maybe Mattheo is glad he got lucky enough to have Theo as his soulmate.

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Tags: ☾- angst ♡- fluff ⟡- smut

⋆˙⟡—FICS

♡ The Art of Learning Potions

♡ Sunlight Through the Rain

⋆˙⟡—HEADCANONS

♡ Coffee Order

⋆˙⟡—MOODBOARDS

♡ busy woman

♡ 15 minutes

♡ paramedic au