(aka my navigation) the old one was due for an upgrade
Also! while I am in the process of shifting things over please be patient. If a person or fandom has been removed from my bookcase, it's because I haven't written for them and don't plan to at this moment.
the bolded ones are my favorite
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masterlists
[â˘] harry potter
-> slytherin boys
-> theodore nott
[â˘] dc comics
-> batfamily
-> superman
[â˘] my hero academia (requests open)
[â˘] teen wolf
[â˘] the boondock saints
latest works
-> 07.08.2026 - the richest man in boston - murphy macmanus x reader
-> 07.05.2026 - forza azzurri - italian!theodore nott x reader
-> 03.10.2026 - beacon hills broadcast - isaac lahey x reader
-> 02.22.2026 - have a little summer fun - isaac lahey x fem!reader
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part of my world cup series (series masterlist here x)
my bookcase boondock saints masterlist
"another round, doc," murphy grunted, not taking his eyes off the screen. doc, the ancient bartender with a face like a roadmap of boston, squinted at him.
"you'll be pissin' green by the end of this, murphy," doc wheezed, but he was already reaching for a bottle of jameson.
"it's for luck," murphy said, his voice low and serious. he knocked back the shot doc placed in front of him, the amber liquid disappearing in one smooth motion. he didn't even flinch.
you sat next to him, nursing a lukewarm beer, the glass sweating in your hand. you'd seen this before. murphy before a fight, murphy before a confession, murphy before anything that mattered. he got quiet, still, like a predator waiting in the tall grass. his focus was terrifying, absolute. he believed with every fiber of his being that his thoughts, his actions, could influence the outcome of a game happening thousands of miles away.
"they're lookin' tired," he muttered, pointing a finger at the screen. "the left midfielder. he's lost his step."
"it's the first ten minutes, murph," you said, trying to sound reasonable.
"the first ten minutes are everything," he shot back, his eyes not leaving the screen. "it sets the tone. the whole vibe. the old country is watchin'. we can't let 'em down."
connor appeared with two more shots, setting them down with a thud.
"drink up," he said, his voice tight. "we need all the help we can get."
murphy tossed his back without a word. connor did the same, his jaw tight. they were a matched set, two sides of the same coin. connor was the cynic, the realist, but when it came to this, this weird, tribal devotion to a patch of green grass and a ball, he was just as bad as his brother.
"rocco's putting money on it," you said, nodding towards a beefy guy in a stained tank top who was waving a wad of cash at the bookie in the corner.
"rocco's an idiot," murphy said. "he bet against us last time. lost his rent money."
"maybe he's learned his lesson," connor said from behind the bar.
"nay," murphy and doc said in unison.
the bar erupted in a groan. the other team had the ball, moving with an easy, arrogant confidence that made your stomach clench. murphy tensed beside you, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the bar.
"come on, ye bastards," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "fight for it. fight for the auld sod."
he reached for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. his palm was sweaty, his grip tight enough to hurt.
"we're doin' the ritual," he said, his eyes still fixed on the screen.
"what ritual," you asked, though you had a sinking feeling you already knew.
"the one aileen taught us," he said. "when things get tight. you have to send the energy."
"oh, for fuck's sake, murphy," connor sighed, but he didn't protest.
murphy squeezed your hand. "you have to think it. really believe it. imagine the ball goin' in the net. picture it. the roar of the crowd. the whole of ireland cheerin'."
you closed your eyes, playing along. you pictured it, the ball soaring, the net bulging, the pure, unadulterated joy of victory.
"harder," murphy whispered. "feel it in your bones."
the bar was quiet, a tense, collective holding of breath. you could feel the hope and fear of a hundred strangers, all focused on the same thing. it was a strange, powerful feeling, a sense of unity that you rarely felt anywhere else.
"come on," murphy chanted, his voice rising. "come on, come on, come on."
the irish striker stole the ball, a flash of green lightning. he was running, sprinting down the field, a lone warrior against an army. the bar was on its feet now, shouting, screaming, a chaotic symphony of hope and desperation.
"shoot, ye bollocks," murphy roared, his voice raw.
the striker's leg swung back. time seemed to slow down. the ball flew through the air, a perfect, white arc against the green of the pitch.
it hit the back of the net with a force that seemed to shake the very foundations of the bar.
the world exploded.
people were screaming, hugging, knocking over tables and spilling drinks. connor was vaulting over the bar, a huge, wild grin on his face. murphy picked you up, spinning you around in a circle, his face alight with a joy so pure and fierce it almost hurt to look at.
"we did it," he yelled, setting you down but not letting go. "we did it."
"you're insane," you yelled back, laughing.
"we're irish," he corrected, kissing you hard, his lips tasting of jameson and victory.
doc was pouring shots, sliding them down the bar to anyone who held up a hand. the music was turned up, some old, raucous drinking song that everyone seemed to know the words to. rocco was throwing money around, a fool and his cash soon parted.
"another round," murphy shouted to doc, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. "for everyone. on me."
"you don't have any money, murph," connor said, appearing at his side with two full beers.
"tonight, i'm the richest man in boston," murphy declared, raising his bottle.
"to ireland," connor said, clinking his bottle against murphy's.
"to ireland," you echoed, clinking your bottle against theirs.
"to the lass," murphy said, looking down at you, his eyes shining. "the real lucky charm."
you just shook your head, a smile spreading across your face. he was ridiculous, he was impossible, he was a superstitious, violent, beautiful madman. and he was yours.
the rest of the night was a blur of noise and laughter and too much cheap whiskey. you sang songs you didn't know the words to, you danced on the sticky floor with a man who smelled like onions, you watched murphy and connor get into a loud, passionate argument about a call the ref made in the seventieth minute.
but through it all, murphy kept you close, his hand on your back, his arm around your waist. he'd lean down every few minutes, his lips brushing against your ear.
"feel that," he'd say, his voice thick with drink and happiness. "that's the power. that's the old country. we're a part of it, you and me. always."
you didn't know if it was the whiskey or the joy or the sheer, overwhelming force of his belief, but you almost believed him. you could feel it, too. a current running through the bar, through the city, through the whole wide world. a connection, a bond, a shared history of triumph and tragedy, of fighting against the odds and sometimes, just sometimes, winning.
it was more than just a game. it was a story. and murphy, with his wild eyes and his fierce heart, was its most devoted storyteller.
ldrfanaticâs world cup series - theodore nott edition (see series masterlist here x)
my bookcase theodore nott masterlist
the common room was a battlefield. a very green, very silver, very loud battlefield. the world cup was on, and for some reason, theo nott had decided it was a personal insult to his ancestry if italy didn't win. you were curled up on the least dusty armchair, trying to read a book on advanced potions, but the words kept swimming together, eclipsed by the frantic energy radiating from the boy pacing in front of the fireplace.
"forza! for cazzo, forza!" he muttered, running a hand through his already dishevelled dark hair. he wasn't even watching the magical projection floating in the air anymore. he was stalking back and forth, a lean, coiled spring of pure italian angst. his slytherin tie was loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing forearms dusted with dark hair. he looked like a roman emperor about to sacrifice a senator.
"theo, they're just kicking a ball," you said, not looking up from your page.
he stopped pacing and turned to you, his eyes wide with theatrical horror. "just kicking a ball? amore mio, this is not 'just kicking a ball.' this is history. this is honor. this is the legacy of the roman empire condensed into ninety minutes of pure, beautiful agony." he gestured wildly at the floating screen where a tiny player in blue had just fallen over, clutching his shin.
"he seems to be in agony," you noted dryly.
"arte! he is an artist! a master of the dramatic fall! it is a strategy, a ballet of pain designed to manipulate the referee, a brutish german with no appreciation for subtlety," theo explained, pacing again. "and you, my bella, are distracting me with your⌠your book."
"my apologies," you said, marking your page and closing the book. "wouldn't want to interfere with the sacred ritual."
"exactly," he said, pointing a finger at you. "it requires concentration. positive energy. i have a lucky sock on."
"you only have one lucky sock on?"
"yes. the other one is for the second half. it's a system, tesoro. you wouldn't understand."
you watched him for a moment longer, a fond smile playing on your lips. he was ridiculous. a pure-blood wizard with a family tree that could be traced back to caesar himself, and he was losing his mind over a football match. but he was your ridiculous wizard.
he finally sank onto the floor in front of your chair, leaning his back against your knees. he tilted his head back to look at you, his dark eyes pleading. "say it."
"say what?"
"you know. the good luck phrase."
you sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but you leaned down and whispered against his ear, "forza azzurri."
he shuddered, a full-body tremor of what you could only assume was raw, unadulterated italian pride. "sĂŹ, cosĂŹ. again."
"forza azzurri," you said, a little louder this time.
"bellissima," he breathed, turning his attention back to the game just as the crowd in the magical projection roared. a blue jersey had scored. theo shot to his feet, his arms thrown in the air, a string of joyous, rapid-fire italian erupting from him. "ci credo! meraviglioso! che gol! did you see that? did you see that beauty, mia cara?"
"it was very⌠blue," you offered.
he spun around, grabbing your hands and pulling you to your feet. he spun you in a clumsy, ecstatic circle, the common room blurring around you. "it is more than blue! it is the color of the sky, the sea, the blood of michelangelo! it is everything!"
he stopped spinning, his hands still holding yours, his face flushed with victory and the fire in the hearth. he was breathing heavily, his eyes shining. "we did it."
"you kicked the ball from all the way over here? impressive, nott."
"no, you fool," he said, his voice dropping to that low, intimate murmur that made your stomach flutter. "you. you said the words. you brought the luck. it is always you."
he let go of one of your hands to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. "sei il mio portafortuna. you are my good luck charm."
"just yours?" you teased softly.
"always mine," he whispered, and then he was kissing you. it wasn't a soft, sweet kiss. it was a winning kiss, a triumphant kiss, tasting of victory and something else, something dark and inherently theo. it was a kiss that claimed, that promised, that left no room for doubt.
when he finally pulled away, the roar of the crowd from the magical screen faded into the background. the rest of the common room was celebrating, shouting, but in your little bubble by the fire, it was silent.
"they still have another half to play," you reminded him gently.
"let them play," he said, his eyes dark and fixed on your lips. "i have already won."
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Helloooo Oml I love your fics sm and the way your brain works !!!!!! Congatulations on the milestone. You deserve all the love and support!
For groceries, can I have some eggs pls? From Slytherin boys
Short desc: Average height(for an asian) with messy black hair (call me harry potter bc I can never manage to make it behave despite it being straight?? Wtff??). Im also very chalant and nonchalant at the same time. Its an art form.
Bit of a nerd. Not a top student but I have my geeky hobbies I suppose. Bro Ive always wanted to know wth they studied in arthimancy. House = gryffindor (slytherin fics with gryffindor are a rare breed). I have a sweet tooth its genuinely a problem. I would love collecting chocco frog cards (but I lost all my pokemon cards so what would I know). Im also really absent minded. Like really. I have lost 3 different phones. Not even stolen, just forgot abt them midway. I like reading, mainly fanfics (obvi), science stuff and philosophy (yet nothing sticks). I do love math (translates to arthimancy ig?) And drawing (mostly anime girls and miku. I could theoretically draw guys but theyd all end up looking like femboys so idk)
I am a very curious person and have been brought up to be career focused so romance is like a fairytale (a good thing honestly.) And I do enjoy spending time with myself and my friends. But honestly I am pretty idgaf abt people and drama in general (situationships dont exist imma be fr and I am on the spectrum so maybe thats why lmao)
I would hate history of magic with a passion (maybe not the subject,but the professor. Its nothing personal). Id be barely scrapping Ds in that subject.
If you can decipher any of this, Ill hand you your bachelors in psych bro youve earned it.
Oh and Im a girl. Congrats on 1400 !! This event is such a cool idea and I hope your pillow stays ice cold on all surfaces.
Thank you thank you!
I ship you with theodore!! although I did strongly consider mattheo
(hear me out here :))
I think you and theo would've been formally introduced during a potions assignment wherein slughorn played into his usual antics of pairing up people from different houses to encourage "inter-house mingling".
theo is very very similar with his school habits (intelligent but doesn't overdo it) and really, really shy so I think the first time that you heard him really do an in-depth explanation on the purpose of stirring clockwise exactly three times would be a little bit of a shock. that being said, theo also isn't really one for drama so when you guys end up in the same social situation after becoming close friends, you both tend to linger in the shadows together and have debates on who's collected more chocolate frog cards.
he swears up and down that it's him but everytime he's in hogsmeade, he picks up a couple frogs and gives most of them to you.
I think that theo would be the kind of boyfriend that's really perceptive and I believe that his primary love language would be acts of service which both work really well in your guys' dynamic. he reminds you of any big assignment deadlines and he sets multiple alarms for you in the morning just in case you want to snooze a little.
as italian!theo he has a really deep appreciation for art so sometimes he's completely content to just be with you while you draw or if you don't like to be watched, he'll just read a book and wait for you to finish so you can show it off to him.
as far as history of magic goes, he also hates it and professor binns is, as he puts it, "excruciatingly boring". because of this, he tries to convince you to skip literally every class period. when you agree, you both find something to do that doesn't draw unwarranted attention (i.e. sneaking into the slytherin common room and making smores over the fireplace). when you don't agree to skip, he'll sit dutifully next to you and make random scribbles and sketches onto spare parchment.
I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY I NEED THAT WHITE BOY
synopsis - theodore nott has always loved you. but heâs never confessed. he knew loving you has always terrified him because losing you would ruin him completely.
slow burn, hea, curse words, mention of god and catholicism, cursing
my bookcase theodore nott
theodore nott did not love you loudly, violently, or boastfully.
no, he loved you quietly. inevitably.
not because he was ashamed of it, nor because he wanted to keep you hidden away. but because he believed that some things were far too important to handle carelessly.
theo always, always, handled you like something precious. something coveted by all.
because to him, thatâs what youâve always been.
the only issue being, heâd stayed quiet for so long, content to be your closest friend, that he wasnât even sure you knew of his feelings.
scratch that, he was certain that you didnât know of his feelings.
theodore nott had, for all intents and purposes, friendzoned himself, as it were.
and for a while, he was okay with that. because labeling something?
that makes it fragile. breakable.
except now, it was all he had in him to stand off in the shadows of the darkening corridor, fists clenched white with barely restrained rage as he watched adrian pucey attempt to make a move on you.
before he knew what he was doing, heâd stalked over to you and flung one large, heavy arm over your shoulder. he wasnât subtle about the way that he pulled you closer.
he was even less subtle about the way that he glared at adrian with a look so venomous, even a snake would slither away.
theo doesnât let up until his opponent stalked away, pridefully trying to keep the dejection out of his features.
honestly, theo was a little surprised. heâd expected more pushback from adrian. heâd expected at least an insult or snide comment. maybe even a hex.
what he had not expected was to turn towards you and be met with a scathing look.
âwhat? oh andiamo bellissima, donât tell me you actually wanted pucey to be hitting on you?â theoâs tone was dripping with contempt and exasperation.
he watches as you cross your arms, a petulant groan escaping your soft lips. admittedly, heâs only half listening to you as you tell him off aboutâŚ
well, something.
theoâs eyes slowly travel your face, and then your body, head to toe. he finds himself distracted by the way the hem of your skirt hits the soft skin of your thighs.
even more completely enamored with the way your lips wrap around each word.
he has to recite a few boring prayers in latin from his nonnaâs lectures about his lifestyle just to keep himself from boring holes into your chest as it rises and falls with your frustration.
âitâs not just that, theodore!â
the use of his full name by his best friend snaps him back to reality.
this was more than your usual whining at theoâs antics. or the way heâd always force you to eat some of your vegetables at dinner.
no, this was genuine.
âyou always come between me and any guy! youâ you say sweet things like you mightâ and then you just donât! but oh, merlin forbid some other guy is interested in me!â
theo really doesnât appreciate what youâre insinuating.
itâs only half true after all. sure he does chase guys away, and he absolutely sweet talks you, but he doesnât do it to lead you on or to make you miserable.
he does it because he wants you in a way he knows he canât have you.
but theo doesnât tell you this. no, theo watches in complete silence as you scoff and turn heel on him.
in fact, theo has been doing nothing but watching recently.
watching you ignore him for the past two and a half weeks.
watching you laugh with your friends at your own table at meal times.
watching you walk right past him at your usual study time in the library.
watching you look through him at this very moment as he corners you.
theo watches you for another second after that. like heâs waiting for you to look back at him. like you always do.
you donât.
your shoulder brushes past his as you move to leave and something in him finally snaps loose.
âstop.â
it comes out rougher than he means for it to.
you pause at the end of the corridor but donât turn around immediately. when you finally face him, your expression is exhausted. not angry. not even really sad anymore.
just tired.
theo thinks for a fleeting moment that heâd prefer if you screamed at him again.
âwhat, theodore?â
and there it is again.
theodore.
not theo. not some sarcastic nickname muttered under your breath.
just theodore.
like youâre trying to remind yourself heâs only a person.
his throat tightens.
âyou think i donât let people near you because i like messing with your life?â he asks quietly.
âi think you donât know what you want.â
the words land cleanly between his ribs. because the worst part is that maybe youâre right.
theo knows what itâs like to want in ugly ways. he knows obsession and jealousy and possession because he grew up surrounded by men who mistook those things for love.
but this thing with you has never felt ugly. and thatâs how he knows.
âi know what i want,â he says resolutely.
you laugh once, humorless. âreally? because from where iâm standing, it just feels like you want me close enough that nobody else can have me.â
theo flinches, brow furrowed and frown deepening. the silence stretches.
outside, thunder rumbles somewhere beyond the castle walls.
you look at him then. really look at him. and your face softens for half a second.
âthatâs the problem, theo,â you continue quietly. âi know you better than anyone and i still donât know what any of this means to you.â
his chest caves in a little at that. because you do know him.
you know he takes his tea with too much sugar when he hasnât slept.
you know he reads the last page of books first because he hates uncertainty.
you know he gets quiet on the anniversary of his motherâs death and mean when heâs scared and restless when he cares too much.
you know every ruined and ugly thing about him.
but not this. never this.
theo drags a hand down his face before looking at you again. if he doesnât get this out now, he knows he never will. that heâll have to live the rest of his days watching you be happy with someone else.
âdo you know how awful it is,â he says softly, âto be around someone all the time and still feel like theyâve barely touched the surface of you?â
your expression falters.
âtheoââ
âi know you,â he cuts in, voice gentler now. âi know the sound you make when youâre trying not to laugh in the library. i know you hate pumpkin pastries but eat them anyway because pansy likes them. i know you pretend not to care about quidditch scores but you always ask draco who won.â
he steps closer, hand coming up to cup your jaw like it belongs there. like he belongs with you.
âand i know that every time someone looks at you for too long, i feel sick over it. i am,â he pauses, eyes flicking as he searches for an appropriate word. âi am undone by you.â
you stare at him. silent, breathing unevenly, chest doing that fucking heaving thing that threatens to bring him to his knees.
theo swallows hard.
âbut i donât know how to do this,â he admits. âbecause youâre my best friend and if i ruin this, i ruin everything.â
your eyes finally soften completely at that.
âtheo,â you whisper.
he shakes his head once, desperate suddenly.
âi wish you could know me the way i know you,â he says. ânot this version of me that jokes and picks fights and acts like none of this matters.â
his voice drops. âmio dio, i wish you knew how much it matters.â
youâre close enough now that he can see the exact moment your anger breaks apart. and when you speak, your voice sounds small.
âthen tell me.â
theo looks at you for a long moment. then, very carefully, like heâs handing you something fragile enough to shatter in your palms, he says,
âi think iâve been in love with you for a while.â
you exhale shakily, the only sound in the otherwise silent corridor.
âoh.â
theo huffs out a laugh at that, eyes dropping to the floor for a second and sarcasm rising to the surface like a defense mechanism. âyeah. brilliant response, really.â
but then your hand slips into his sleeve, fingers curling lightly around his wrist.
and theo goes quiet.
âi think,â you murmur slowly, âthat maybe iâve been waiting for you to say that for even longer.â
and then he kisses you. and thatâs what really undoes him.
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tw - jason and reader are married; nothing gender specific; nothing appearance specific on reader or the twins; jason picks reader up
my bookcase
I hc that Jason and reader would be parents to twins.
Like I can picture him coming home after a day full of running errands and your twin little girls who just recently turned four take off towards the door the second they hear his motorcycle pull into the garage.
Once he actually hits the front door, he can smell the fresh cookies that you'd made with the girls. You're curled up on your guys' massive couch that he insisted on getting so he could cuddle with every piece of his heart at the same time.
Jason has like three seconds max before each of his calves has one of his daughters attached to it with a collective chorus of 'Daddy!'.
He doesnât even attempt to keep a big ass grin from splitting his face. Instead, he just reaches down and carefully pries them off, picking them up in his big, strong arms and proceeding forward until heâs standing in front of you, one tiny little human in each arm with a panty-dropping smile.
Meanwhile youâre busy trying to ignore how hot he looks. The broad expanse of his shoulders, the thickness of his chest. The way that his biceps flex as the girls squirm in his hold.
You look up, his smile morphing into a cocky grin as he catches you checking him out. Your husband gets this glint of mirth in his eyes and the next thing you know, heâs shifted both girls to one arm and thrown you over his shoulder.
Youâre protesting, mouth full of complaints and warnings about hurting himself. Jason just gives you a look that you know means, âAre you serious? Iâve fought Solomon Grundyâ.
The more you chastise him about being careful, the more he smiles at you until you finally fall silent after he says something stupidly sweet about holding his entire world in his arms.
â aka jason knows better than to let anyone get away with hurting you
âââ
your eyes trace the brown-yellow bruise forming on your wrist, the consequence of some asshole on the street too drunk to remember it isnât polite to grab pretty girls. you wouldâve let it go, really, itâs gotham, this kind of thing happens. unfortunately for the poor bastard, he had the misfortune of forgetting his sense in front of jason todd.
you try to hide the bruise before your boyfriend can see it, sliding the tarnished patch of skin under the sleeve of your jacket with hasteâ but he catches it anyways. of course he does. you can faintly see shocks of green lightning crackling in his ocean blue eyes, a precursor to the white hot rage stemming from his chest to the rest of his body.
you gently squeeze his arm, noting how tense the muscles in his bicep are. you know jason. you know he loves you differentlyâ like youâre something fragile. he worships you, taking care of you like youâre a marble statue and heâs terrified of finding cracks. so something as small as a bruise, no matter how tiny or how minor, it makes him lose control.
he gently removes your hand from his arm, pressing a chaste kiss against your bruise. âwhy donât you go back to that cafĂŠ, yeah? iâll join you in a minute.â he says, looking down at you with a soft smile. if you didnât know him any better, youâd think heâd completely gotten over the situation, happy as a clam.
but you do know him, and you know that the way his shoulders are tensed and his free hand is fisted in the pocket of his jacket means that heâs enraged.
âjayââ
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, giving you a gentle smile. âplease, baby. i donât want you to see this.â
you should stop it. you should try. but heâs looking at you like that and your morals suddenly become incredibly loose. you hesitate, remembering the waves of repulsion you felt moments ago when that idiot bastard yanked you towards him. âjust⌠donât hurt him bad.â
jason nods, turning you around and guiding you forward, watching until you turn towards the cafe before he focuses his attention on the man, who is still too piss drunk to comprehend how badly he had fucked up. you hear jason before the door fully closes behind you, an echo of âso you think thatâs how you should treat a woman?â
heâs terrifying. that drunk idiot must be terrified.
and heâs yours. scary dog privileges and all that. it makes you feel warm, safe, loved, protectedâ youâre irrevocably in love with that. with him.
he comes back in a few minutes, maybe fifteen? the wait stretched on for hours in your mind. his knuckles are bloody, but none of it is his. he cleans up in the bathroom before sliding next to you on the cushioned side of your half-booth, wrapping an arm and your shoulder, breathing you in like a man starved.
âheâs fine.â he says quietly, so only you can hear it. âjust made sure he learned to keep his hands to himself.â
you close your eyes, leaning into him, into his warmth. you donât say anythingâ you donât have to, the way you bury yourself against him is admission enough. his arms wrap around you and the bruise fades back into your skin. your heart beats with more love than you thought it capable of producing, your chest swelling like itâs about to burst.
you press a gentle kiss against his chest and everything makes sense again.
âââ
itâs always when i say iâm not gonna write that inspiration strikes
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the slytherin boys as taylor swift songs by album
> the tortured poets department
> evermore
> 1989
> speak now
texts w the slytherin boys | different texts I think the slytherin boys would send you.
> theodore
forza azzurri | World Cup Series - Theodore Nott ed.
my favs:
* "T" for Theodore | request: hi!! would it be okay if you did r21 + f20 for theodore nott?? would love a sweet fluff story where theo and the f!reader are just in love and in a lovely relationship, where theo gives her a necklace/ring which ever? not anything crazy or super tooth rottingly sweet <3
* and now im covered in you | sweet, fluffy, amortentia trope | theo finds himself crushing on hogwarts' resident ball of sunshine hufflepuff but tries to force himself to stay away.
> "sweet like cinnamon" | sweet, fluffy, hates everyone but you trope | not an exact sequel, but adjacent | is it possible that the entire time you've been dating theo, you've somehow not noticed that he's only this sweet with you?
* all i do is try, try, try | bittersweet, fluff at the end, happily ever after | when you start to push theodore away, he knows something is wrong. but maybe he'll be the first one to fight for you
* you should be | angst, dead!reader, vengeful!theo | theo's father had beaten it into him to be ruthless despite theo's inherently soft nature. after you're killed in a death eater attacked lead by theo's dad, theodore finally learns to be ruthless.
* crawl home to her | fluff, angst | 2.6k - you and theo had always been enemies and you thought he hated you until you found out that he loves you so much it hurts
> part two: if the world was ending | fluff, angst | 1.7k
* two worlds collided | arranged marriage trope, malfoy reader| 2.6k - when nott sr is trying to find theodore a bride, your father takes this as the perfect opportunity.
other works:
i'm never gonna break that vow | a little cheesy, hurt to comfort | theo is used to people not staying. he's used to people leaving. so when he shows up to hogwarts this year with a fresh dark mark, he expects you to do the same. but you're not like anyone that's ever been in his life before.
casual | unestablished relationship | 2.4k - theo has tried to be casual with you for as long as he can stomach. because having you in this way is better than not having you at all. but after you show up injured, he's ready to risk it all.
just to sit outside your door | reunited childhood friends | theo and reader who are childhood friends before readers family moved away and they get reunited years later at hogwarts. theo makes it his mission to get reader to fall in love with him
the long way around |academic rival trope, banter | longtime academic rivals turned unspeakables, you and theo nott are thrown into a dangerous, chaotic time-travel mission after a stolen time-turner goes off course
you, me, and a recipe | request; Imagine Theo with a (Hufflepuff) reader whose always bringing him things to cook.
hurry up and wait | when your sister leaves during her 7th year to help harry hunt horcruxes, you're left to fend for yourself.
love you for a lifetime | soulmate au | prompt - you see the world in black and white until you meet your soulmate. when you meet them, everything explodes into color.
if my wishes came true | bittersweet, angst, blurb | how you so desperately wanted theo to be the one for you
good ones never wait | fluff, hufflepuff reader | 1.5k - you and theo have been secretly crushing on each other for years until finally, your friends nudge you in the right direction (a part of my taylor swift lyric prompts)
shiny things rust | angst, semi-happy ending | 1.2k - theo just recently got his dark mark and is trying really hard just to stay sane. reader finds him on the astronomy tower one night in bad shape and they have an unexpected heart to heart.
the knockout chronicles | request, fluffy | 701 - you accidentally get hit while trying to break up a fight
promise. | fluffy (minor angst) | 3.4k - as you quite literally stumble upon the enigmatic persona of theodore nott, you unintentionally become entangled in the intrigue surrounding him
italian theo
* oh bella | fluffy | 2.2k - 3 times the reader teases Theoâs Italian roots + 1 time she celebrates them
italian theo headcanons | sweet, headcanons | 1.6k - all the ways that theo is noticeably italian
* one last souvenir from my trip to your shores | bittersweet, fluff, happy ending, theoâs pov | 1.1k - theo has a heart heavy moment with the memory of his mother during your guysâ summer break in italy
series
thirteen | taylor swift song inspired mini-series | ongoing | 5/15 parts published - amidst the turmoil of your final years at hogwarts, you found your heart intertwined with theodore nott's. despite the darkness looming, your love for each other bloomed like a rare flower. but destiny, ever fickle, seemed determined to tear you apart.
i miss you, the breakup | angst series w eventual hea | ongoing | 2/2 parts published - you can't believe that after three years with your best friend, things are just over.
-> one two
ft. mattheo riddle, theodore nott, draco malfoy, lorenzo berkshire
mattheo riddle as... TOLERATE IT
(the toxic ex)
lyrics - "Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life." + "Took this dagger in me and removed it?" + "I sit and watch you."
when you were together, you and mattheo would be constantly going in circles. I don't see mattheo as the kind of guy that would cheat necessarily because i feel like he wouldn't get into a relationship if he was just gonna cheat on you the whole time, but he is most definitely the kind of guy that has horrible habits (drugs, alcohol, etc.) and always tells you he's gonna clean himself up but never does.
as an ex, mattheo is 1000% the kind of guy that is m e s s y throughout the breakup (i.e. yelling, cursing, saying that he's better off without you) only to turn around and literally be miserable without you. and what's worse is he actually believed that he'd be better without you so now it's genuinely just wallowing in self pity. he won't outright beg for you to come back to him, but you'll never truly escape him either. (he's def stalking you).
theodore nott as... EVERMORE
(the apathetic ex)
lyrics - "writing letters addressed to the fire" + "I had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore" + "In the cracks of light I dreamed of you"
when you were together theo was... emotionless to be blunt. he has this "don't care" attitude that everyone thinks adds to his mysteriousness and a lot of girls find the whole act cute except... it's not really an act. he genuinely doesn't care. not that he doesn't care about you, but he's never gonna be that guy to get on his knees and pour his heart out. and you thought that you could be okay with that but his apathetic attitude carries over when you're fighting. even if you know it's not true, he gives off this energy like he could give a fuck less if y'all broke up and that is ultimately what does you in.
as your ex theo is going to wholeheartedly avoid you. he won't stare at you or ask about you or even really acknowledge that you exist. however, internally, theo is FIGHTING within his own head. your breakup kind of blindsided him in the sense that he saw it coming but he wasn't expecting it to affect him this much. that part is entirely new for him. i'm a little undecided on if i think that he would be silently hoping y'all got back together or if he would just push his feelings down like usual.
draco malfoy as... CLOSURE
(the bitter ex)
lyrics - "It cut deep to know you, right to the bone" + "I know that it's over, I don't need your closure" + "But it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary"
when you were together draco was like your best friend in the world. you guys are super close, spend all your time together, laugh, joke, eat, whatever. it's very... strange when you start to have issues because it sort of catches both of y'all off guard. i would argue though that draco feels way less prepared to deal with arguments. with his parents, they always just kind of ignore it and then are back to normal the next day. and he doesn't really realize that that's not gonna work until y'all break up.
as an ex draco is somewhat of a petulant child throwing a fit. the fact that y'all were such good friends when you were together honestly just makes this all the more confusing because how did he go from being besties to literally just like... pretending he never knew you?! he's incredibly bitter and his pride is hurt a little that you even had the nerve to breakup with him. i think that with some coaxing, IF you wanted to, you could probably get him back into a relationship but he would definitely require some serious work.
lorenzo berkshire as... RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
(the on-again off-again ex)
lyrics - "break-ups happen everyday you don't have to lose it" + "if our love died young, I can't bear witness" + " but if you ever think you got it wrong, i'm right where you left me"
when you were together you and enzo were often called the perfect couple. you grew up together and it was really easy for you guys to fall back into this rhythm of blossoming feelings no matter how much time passes, but it's a very round and round thing where you're kind of getting together, breaking up, missing each other, getting back together. it's definitely not the healthiest relationship but enzo feels like a warm hug in the absolute best way and it's something you have a hard time walking away from.
as your ex, enzo snaps right back into place as your best friend. i think of the four boys he's the most accommodating to what you need, the most "water under the bridge" kind of ex. neither of you hold what happened during the relationship against the other, even if it's something that you would normally hold a grudge on. with enzo, you inevitably end up forgiving him and, as time has told, end up getting back together.
