#Oh gods is this a slow burn??

[teavilgenius]

Guys I'm gonna need the family tree from frozen, and then I'm probably gonna need to burn it. It's fine. Only the important three need names and I think at least two of them are provided. Probably the third, he's like, the entire plot of the second movie.

[peachigummi]

test my luck ꢾ꣒ mattheo riddle.

summary: enemy to lovers! Mattheo and y/n have been each other's biggest haters since year 1, they're in their final year at Hogwarts. Mattheo finally pushes y/n to the edge, with his venomous words and guilt tactics.

pairing: enemy! mattheo x fem ravenclaw! reader

warnings: not for the faint of heart! mature themes/language. mentions of abuse. slow burn? bullying angst!! oh my god angst, but ends with some bittersweet fluff I promise! attempted suicide sorry (after reading this back, i dont mean it to be manipulation or to glorify or romanticize but! shit!! for a plot?)

note: i haven't written anything in literal years, the pov is going to shift a lot so bear with me. i honestly just lost any sense of motivation. but something in me just bloomed. you wont see any hp things on this blog it is my journal and i feel like sharing! maybe a part 2 in the making. if this gets enough response.

word count: 6,828

(slightly not really proofread or fan fact checked? if that's a thing ha)

playlist: should i create..? you know damn well the smiths would be in it! like Bigmouth Strikes Again?? that is mattheo!

reblogs & comments are so appreciated! i hope you enjoy <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was the start of your last year of Hogwarts, it was an okay time. You personally didn’t get into too much trouble, you liked to stick by yourself for the most part. You studied hard because your muggle parents were still confused about you being a witch, and what you would get out of it. It was hard to process that information, it was a thing of fairy tales. You had to prove yourself in this new world. That…that was hard when you were constantly looking over your shoulder for Mattheo Riddle.

“What’s a whore doing in my seat?” Speak of the damn devil. 

You turned to look at him with a sarcastic smile, “Well hello to you too Mattheo.” You nod at the three other boys that were with him, each of their arms crossed. “Draco. Blaise. Theodore.” You return to look at Mattheo, “you know last time I checked… there are no assigned seats in Potions.” You looked around and the class was still fairly empty.

“Think again and think hard.” Mattheo spoke to you in a cold shallow tone, he barely looked at you. He circled around the table you were at, your eyes following him. He suddenly stopped right behind your chair, yanking it back. There was a loud scrape, the few students that were in the room turned to look at the scene unfolding. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. Mattheo slammed his hand on the side of the table, making you flinch. You hated that you reacted that way. He grabbed the back of your ponytail, forcing your head forward where his hand was, “Look.” M. Riddle. D. Malfoy. B. Zabini. T. Nott. Their names were carved into the side. You grabbed Mattheo’s hand, the one that was still holding onto your ponytail, you tried to pry his icy cold fingers off. It only made him tighten his grip, he bent down to get close to your face, “I suggest you move unless you want me to carve my name onto your face as well.” he spat and finally let go. 

“Whatever,” you gathered your books, “this seat sucks anyways. I’ll go hang out with Professor Snape up front.” You rolled your eyes as Draco lit up a cigarette, handing the pack to the boys to share. If you’re going to try and get away with smoking, yeah do it in the back of the class I guess.

“You really like being a teacher’s pet don’t you? That’s why you’ve always got your nose up Snape’s ass.” 

“Seriously fuck off! Go continue to lose brain cells with your sorry excuse of friends.” You push the seat back and let it topple over. You mentally slapped yourself, you shouldn’t be feeding into his remarks.

“That’s cute sunshine, I’ll bet you have a hard time standing up for yourself in every aspect of your pathetic life. Do better.” Mattheo smugly said, smoking the cigarette that was in his hand.

You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it, you ended up just flipping him off. He did the same, giving you an annoyed look. You took the seat next to Hermione in the front of the class. Ugh! That Mattheo. “Are you okay?!” She asked, shooting daggers at the group, turning to you again “How can you put up with that? We have to tell someone..” you shook my head and whispered, “it’ll only make things worse. I don’t want to be a snitch. It’s already been six years anyways… how can one more year really change things.”

Blaise laughed, “you like that don’t you mattheo? Isn’t she so cute when she’s angry, you like feisty girls, yeah?”

Draco chuckles, “oh he definitely does, too bad she’s a stupid bitch.” The group laughs together.

You could hear them hollering from the back. You tried to calm yourself down and pay attention to the different measurements of the potions you were being taught. Maybe I could switch this class to a different time. You thought, focusing back to the lesson when Professor Snape mentioned something about needing to be in groups of three for an upcoming project.

Before Snape could assign anyone, Mattheo spoke up, “Sir I’d like to work with Theodore, if that’s permitted.” Snape looked annoyed by his interjection but answered, “No, Theodore will be with Y/N and Draco. Nothing will change. I already made the groups, they will be posted near the storeroom.” He gave Mattheo a dirty look.

You could hear Draco scoff but he didn't say anything. Yet. He kept to himself and his buddies while they continued to smoke and do other things to piss Professor Snape off before the class was finally dismissed. I guess I didn’t need to worry about being in a pair with Mattheo. You still wanted to protest against the group choice, but nothing would come of it. You knew better than to go against Snape’s final word. Theodore wasn’t such a horrible person, he actually can be pretty smart and helpful, if you got him alone. Otherwise when he was with even just one of his buddies, he was just like them - a jerk. It was Draco you won’t be able to stand.

“Don't do anything stupid, Y/L/N, and we might actually do okay in this project.” That was Draco himself, walking over with Theodore.

You ignored his comment, “where should we meet and when?”

“We can use one of the abandoned classrooms. Before the lunch break?” Theodore suggested, handing a note with directions.

“Okay. See you.” You said as bluntly as possible, gathering your book. You went to grab the ingredients your group might need. 

“Teachers pet!” Draco yelled after.

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Of course you were the first to the abandoned classroom, you had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes before either of them showed. When they did, they didn’t bother to apologize, though you didn’t expect them to. Even with smart comments from both boys, you finished discussing the project and the presentation at a decent hour. It was quiet as you started to collect your things, Draco excused himself earlier to collect a package.

“Y/N, why is it that you hate Mattheo so much?” Theodore broke the silence, carefully watching you wrap the vials carefully. You paused, taken back. “He’s been trying to get a rise out of you since day 1, why?” He continued nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

You quickly grab them out of his hand and put it in your own breast pocket, “don’t smoke around me.” 

This made him annoyed, “Hey! I need those! They keep me calm!” 

“No you don't, you've been fine this entire time without them. I’m not trying to raise your blood pressure right now. You’re fine.” You give him a good look, maybe he was playing dumb. How could he not know? Theodore and Mattheo were best friends; they must have already talked about this, “I only hate Mattheo because he hates me. It’s all there's to it…” I think.

He lingers for a moment after you answered him, there is something else you haven’t said, “tell me what you think. There’s always some deeper reason for this sort of stuff” He rested his chin on his hand. See this is why I favored Theodore from the rest of his group, but should I still trust him? He could use this information against me. I took the chance.

“Over the years I suspected it was just plainly because I was a mudblood and not some perfect pure-bred like you folk.” You continued to wrap the vials carefully. 

Theodore rolled his eyes, “He does have a thing against people with different backgrounds than his own. He thinks everyone in this school should be from a wizarding family. But that’s not the case with you.” He grabbed a vial too, helping me wrap them, “He’s never said anything about your parents or how they’re muggles.” Mattheo would talk about me when I wasn’t around? Why would he do that? You looked into his eyes searching for some joke or underlying lie. There was none I could detect.

You recall the moment aloud when you first laid your eyes on Mattheo, “It was at the train station. Our first year. I remember hugging and kissing my parents goodbye, not wanting to let go of them. I turned around to go on the train and there was a much much smaller Mattheo staring at me with wide beady little eyes that were glossed over with tears. He was cute in that split second - ” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Theodore watched you carefully. You straightened your lips, continuing, “ - before he stuck a solid wad of gum in my hair.”

Theodore bellowed, nearly falling backwards in his chair, “Yeah that sounds like him, that’s a classic stunt he’d pull off. There was this one time in year 5 when he stuck gum on the chair of one of the professors before class…I never saw her so mad after she sat down and got up, her chair nearly followed her around!” He tried to settle himself down, “Mattheo always had a thing for doing stuff to people and acting as if it’s all a joke.”

“It’s not a joke when you have to cut your hair super short in order to remove the gum. I felt so naked without my long hair, it was so beautiful! And he made it worse when he made a point to show how ugly I was to everyone in the Great Hall. I even remember you laughing just like you are now.” You pushed his shoulder.

Theodore smirked, “yeah we all laughed, how couldn’t we?! You looked ridiculous before you grew it back out. We used to call you Baldy McEgg-head. You’d get so mad, only making us laugh harder.” At least someone cherished the memory. You rolled your eyes.

It grew quiet again, “have you ever met Mattheo’s parents? Has he ever talked to you about them?”

“No. I’ve never met them. He’s never really talked about his parents or his life outside Hogwarts. I don’t think he’s on great terms with his dad. He always stayed with them during the breaks, and wasn't ever allowed to spend it with us or here at hogwarts. He missed out on a lot of important hang outs. I wished he was there for them” Theodore explained, he sounded disappointed and angry.

“Do…do you think he’s jealous of my home life? The affection I was receiving in front of him at the train station…” 

He thinks for a moment, “I suppose it could be a possibility…hard to tell. He doesn’t allow himself to show too much emotion, again, probably has to do with the way he must have been raised.”

You wanted to do more research into Mattheo’s family…but how? “Thanks for this Teddy. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” You finished packing everything into your bag. Before you left you tossed him back his pack of cigarettes, “see you later.”

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You let out a sigh of relief, to be alone once again. Mettheo Riddle, what secrets do you hide? You made your way to the library instead of the Great Hall. After a few hours of searching around the library, you finally find a section of massive thick old leather bound books. You blew on the covers, these books contained a record of all the wizards and witches that had attended Hogwarts. Kind of like a yearbook, but it told you what came of them. Who married who, what did they end up doing after Hogwarts, etc. a rare but quite the gem of a find. “R… R.. R” you whispered, touching the book ends. You look at the bottom of the bookshelf finding the one that contained the last names that began with R. You found it, and you began to look through for the name “Riddle.”

Just as you got to the last name, you felt a wave of shame. You were snooping into somebody’s life. Their history. This is wrong. If Mattheo wanted to talk about his home life, surely he would have. He was hiding something. There were heavy slow footsteps coming around the corner of the aisle. You snapped the book shut holding it behind you and you looked at the section opposite of where you just were. Mattheo, they were his steps, you could tell. 

“Of course you’d be in the library doing nerd stuff.” He doesn’t sound happy, but also when is he truly ever?

You looked at him then around yourself, “who me? A nerd for being in the library?” I mean he wasn’t wrong but ..yeah. You still point at him, “Where are you then? Because it seems to be you’re also in the library with…” you fake gasp, “...Me! Making you a nerd too!” You hoped that confused him, you shifted the leather book behind your back. It was getting heavy by the second.

“I’m ditching classes to smoke,” He takes a rip of a cigarette that was nearly at its end, he blows the smoke in your face. “Nerd.”

“Whoop-dee-doo what a stellar insult Mettheo. I’m a ravenclaw. What did you expect? I’d rather be a nerd than a-” You took a step closer to him squinting then widening your eyes in horror, “oh my god Mattheo did you lose a tooth from all that smoking?” He quickly shoved his pinky into his mouth feeling his teeth in a panic. If there was one thing he cared more about than cigarettes it was keeping up with his good looks. Uh did I just describe him as good looking?

He actually laughed once he finished counting his teeth, “They’re perfectly fine. I care about taking care of myself, unlike you. How often do you wash yourself? I doubt you even brush your hair. I did you a favor when you had to cut it off. You have no sense of style, even with a selection of uniforms! Why do you dress like it’s winter all year? You dress like a peasant from the 1820’s”

Okay ouch, that kinda hurt. You’ve been insecure with your body, you always struggled with that. Dressing in sweaters helped hide it. You didn’t know how to respond, maybe he's right. You couldn’t stand up for yourself to save your life. You just shoved his shoulder with your own and walked past him. 

Matthew continues to follow you, “did you just shove me you twat?” He snatched the book out of my arms holding it a ways away from you, “If you’re going to do sneaky shit, don’t do it so obviously. Is this a diary or something?” Your eyes widened trying to take it back, but he held it up high above his head easily with one hand.

“Yes! It’s my diary, it’s where I gush about the god almighty perfect Mattheo!” I sarcastically said, still hoping he wouldn’t look at the title of the book. “No stupid! I dont have one, I just got done working on the potions project with your buddies. Hand me back the book.”

“Oh I bet you three had lots of fun. Did you talk about me while you were there? Did you talk about how you can’t take your eyes and mind off of me? You’re clearly obsessed, following me around like a love sick puppy. You pop up wherever I happen to be.” 

“Ew no never.” You fought your expression back, did Theodore tell him something? Fuck. “Draco left, it was just Teddy and I. we spent it kissing the whole time. Super carefree. His lips surprisingly didn't taste like cigarettes, they were pretty sweet.”

Mattheo’s smug smirk fades even before you finish your sentence. He hated how you used a nickname for his friend. He despised the thought of you kissing anyone, especially his mates, “fucking liar. THEODORE, not TEDDY, doesn’t like you. He just tolerates you because he has to. He wouldn’t be caught dead kissing you. You’re disgusting and I pity anyone who has the displeasure of touching you in any way other than to harm you. 

You hold your hands up, “woah woah woah, whatever makes you sleep peacefully at night. Why else did Teddy take me to an abandoned classroom, it was our chance to get away together especially after Draco conveniently left.” You couldn’t believe you were lying through your teeth, this would forsure come back and bite you in the ass even harder. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet. You haven't even been romantically linked with anyone before. 

“Stop fucking calling him Teddy, it’s Theodore!”

“Can you guys get a room or SHUT UP! For Merlin’s Sake” A random student yelled out at us. Slamming their hand on the table. You were embarrassed because you took pride in keeping the library a sacred place to study or relax.

“Piss off. Go find a room of your own instead of listening to us talking. You must be a first year, if you’re still so sensitive to other’s voices in the library.” He continued to raise his voice, “We’ve been like this for years! Blah blah blah!!”

“Stop it Mattheo.” You shove him again, mouthing to the student, I'm very sorry. With the distraction you go and grab the book in Mattheo’s hand but he quickly readjusts his grip.

“You don’t have to apologize for me, sunshine. You should apologize to him for your existence, do everyone a favor will you?” He finally looked down at the title of the book, Who Were They and Where They Now?: Hogwarts. He carefully used a single finger to pry it open to where the fabric bookmark was, immediately seeing his own surname. He gives a manic laugh looking up at your face and slamming the book down to the floor, “you stalker. You are obsessed with me.” 

He lunged at you. You took a step back, you hit the shelving. Your heart was beating so fast you thought you would pass out from the red handed guilt. 

“What kind of information were you looking to find huh?” He pointed a finger at me, his eyes ice cold. Looking to murder. Your head suddenly hurt, there was a high pitched ringing that wouldn't stop. You went to cover your ears to find some relief but Mattheo grabbed you and shook hard, “what the FUCK did you think you would find? Tell me. Tell me NOW!” You didn’t know what to say he just stared hard at you, his nails digging into your arms. You winced. He began to speak fast and harshly as if he knew, as if you had said something. 

“Did you really expect you would find out that I had a happy home? Do you think I’m happy being born in some dingy hovel? Do you think I'm overjoyed to be related to and be abused by my father? He beat me black and blue and hated my existence. My mother just sat there silently watching. She doesn’t care. Would YOU be thrilled knowing that you came from a long line of dark wizards who’ve caused pain and suffering to people for centuries.” 

You began to cry, “Mattheo..”

“You honestly think I would be so proud of that to tell everyone?” He scoffed.

“Mattheo you’re hurting me…”

“I. Don’t. Care.” His deep brown eyes didn’t leave yours, “you should have minded your own business. Stupid girl prying into my history. What do you care? Did you think I'd be less of a jerk to you if I had a perfect loving family like yours? ”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry! I .. I.”

“Shut up. You don't get to speak. I don't need you feeling sorry for me, I can handle myself. This is probably the worst you’ll ever experience.”

“Y-You’re right. I’m.. I’m grateful I never had to e-endure that” You were one stuttering mess. 

He moves one hand to cup your mouth to shut you up again, “what did i say. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth.” He rose the other up threateningly. 

You closed your eyes. Do it Mattheo. Please. I deserve it. I’m sorry I tried to pry. Do it. He was surprised by your offer and looked at you in confusion, his expression didn’t change though. “What kind of sick request is that?” You open your eyes again to meet his. Both of you were in disbelief, did he just-? “Why would you want me to beat you? Because you feel bad for me? I don’t want nor need your sympathy. Trying to act like a saint that's willing to be my punching bag whenever I want.” he scoffed, letting your mouth free, taking a single step back away from you.

“Then why are you so mean to me? Tell me that. When I first laid eyes on you during our first year at the train platform, I thought we would be friends.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing where his fingers had dug into you.

“You’re a prissy annoying know-it-all goody two shoes that thinks she’s better than everyone. You can’t help but chime in whenever you have the chance and show off.”

“So it’s just my existence then huh, nothing else to it?” You felt your own anger finally rise, you wiped your tears off your cheek trying to regain composure.

“Pretty much. You’re unbearable. You are the most unexciting thing I’ve ever encountered.”

“Let me fix that for you.” Your eyes betrayed you and let the gates open, the flood starting to spill once more. Before Mattheo could get another hold of you you quickly shuffled off, dropping your things. Already feeling limp. Just hoping your legs would carry you a bit more.

Mattheo rolls his eyes, “tsk so stupid.” He stood there staring at the place you once were. Thinking about what occurred when he processed what you said, “Y/N! Hey I-..” He began to follow in the direction you went off to.

Your shuffle turned into a run, you just needed privacy. Anything. Your dorm was too far away, so you went into the nearest girls bathroom and into the furthest stall to sob.

Mattheo reaches the hallway, looking to his left and right. Fuck where did she go? He closes his eyes to listen closely. He heard something faint and went with his gut.

You sat down beside the toilet, hitting your head with your fist. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” You heard a familiar giggle, “go away Myrtle. Now’s especially not the time.” 

Bathroom, you had to be in the bathroom. He went inside not caring if another girl would see him, “Y/N? You’re in here, I know you are. Look, just come out will you?” Instead Moaning Myrtle came forth.

“Are you looking for me?” she bit her finger looking him up and down, “we don't get that many cute boys in here.” She sighed, still admiring him, “Nevertheless, shame on you. How could someone as delicious as you treat someone so horribly.” She laughed in his face.

“Shut up. I don't need to be lectured by some depressed ghost. Why are you even here. Go away.” He went further inside the bathroom pushing doors in, “actually have you seen a girl come in, Y/N?”

“Yes!” She said excitedly pointing to the last stall, “She’s coming with me and we’ll get to haunt together. It’ll be so fun to not be alone anymore” She broke into another high pitched laugh, clapping her hands with joy. 

“What the hell is she on about?” That’s when he noticed broken glass from a mirror. His heart drops, “you’ve got to be kidding me…” He rushed over pushing the final door in, but this one wouldn’t budge. “Y/N. It’s Mattheo..” his heart drops and he pales when he notices blood start to seep out from under the door, you’ve hurt yourself. “Y/N!” He says again louder, “open the door! Open it right fucking now! Y/N!!”

You didn’t want him to see you like this, no one should have to see this. You try to hold the door closed but you were losing your strength to do anything. The blood made it slippery so your hand slid down, “M-m-mattheo haven’t..you said enough?”

Myrtle pointed to the glass, “look how eager she was! Damaging school property to break free” She did a couple spins in the air, “any minute now!”

“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Mattheo raised his wand and shot a blast at the lock, it broke open and he flung the door open to reveal you laying on the floor. His heart seemed to stop completely. “Shit! Dammit! Y/N!” 

The blast frightened you, “No. Mattheo. No.” You could only make out his dark curly haired head. You tried to swat him away before losing consciousness due to blood loss. 

Professor Snape rushed in after hearing a blast, “what the bloody hell is going on in here, Mr. Riddle.”

Mattheo looked at him with an angry and panicked expression, “I need her in the infirmary right now.” He said through gritted teeth. He leans over you, grabbing a large bunch of toilet paper and quickly kneels next to you. Applying pressure on your bleeding left wrist.

Snape understood immediately, “Keep the pressure on the wrist, Riddle.” He was able to pick you up easily, but he was not enthusiastic about having your blood staining his robes, “with HASTE Riddle! Follow me!” And off they went to the infirmary. Once there Snape quickly laid you on a bed gently before Madame Pomfrey took over. 

She was able to stop and clean the bleeding, while she examined the cut striation she asked both Snape and Mattheo what blood type they were, “The girls lost too much blood, she needs a transfusion.” She began to stitch the wrist, the cut was near vertical to the veins. 

Mattheo in a less than a split second looked at Pomfrey, “Am I able to donate for her.” He didn’t say it as a question, he wanted it to be a command. 

“As long as you share the same blood type then yes, sweetheart. Please, fresh blood is much better. We can’t wait more time, Ms. Y/L/N is so terribly pale. She can have a seizure any minute if we dont get more blood to her brain” still carefully pulling at threads. His hand was still holding yours. 

He nods impatiently, less talking, more action. “I’m AB-” he gulped. One of the rarest blood types in the world, “what type is she?” he began to roll up his sleeve even before Pomfrey was able to respond.

“Goodheavens! Thank Merlin. She’s AB- as well!” She sighs looking up at the ceiling for a split second, calling for a nurse to help set up the transfusion. He took a seat on your left, watching the nurse insert a needle into each of your arms. He didn’t flinch, but he gave her a threatening look when she inserted a needle into your arm, thinking she would bring more pain to you. 

Madame Pomfrey stood up, finished. “If it was with a straight razor and not a glass shard, I don’t think i would have been able to-” she let her voice die down after seeing how pale Mattheo began to look too, she shut her mouth as to not worry him more with what the other alternative was. He couldn’t hide his guilt. His eyes were alternating between your face and his blood that was slowly running into your body through a single tubing. He desperately needed it to go faster. 

“Is there a chance she would wake up with problems with her veins or her nerves?” He asked.

Pomfrey patted the boy's shoulders, “Let’s hope not, let’s hope they hold. With the basics in place, there’s nothing a little magic can’t help.” This eased him, “Ms. Y/L/N wont wake for a couple of hours. She needs to be watched to make sure she doesn’t rip my stitching job or we will go back to square one my boy. Can I trust you?”

“Is that really a necessary question?” He bit his tongue, “Sorry, yes I will watch over her. I need to be here when she wakes up.”

“Best she gets a psychiatrist too, but that's a later issue to address. We’ll focus on physical healing for now.” Pomfrey looked at Mattheo curiously, isn’t this one of the trouble-making slytherin boys? She shook her head and walked out to attend to another student.

“Y/N i’m here.” He studies your face, deep with regret and guilt. He holds your right hand tightly, he whispers softly, “it’s okay, you’re going to be alright..”

“Riddle.” Snape was still watching everything from the shadows of the room, “What happened to my best student, why is he in this condition?”

“It’s my fault, Professor…I was making a fool out of myself. I was treating her like hell… it went too far. She must have had a breakdown and she-” he couldn’t bear to describe your condition out loud.

Snape held a hand up to silence him from saying more, “rather than giving you detention for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts. I will need you to attend all the girl’s classes she will be missing in her recovery. She must not fall behind.”

“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll do it.” 

Snape turned to leave but came back toward the boy and yanked the cigarette box from his uniform pocket, “none of these for you either, especially as you are sharing blood with Y/N. She never liked you smoking.” and off he turned around to change his own robes from the blood.

“Anything for you.” he whispered towards you, “please wake up soon.”

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You began to stir, your eyes fluttering open. You looked around in a panic. You were incredibly sore, especially your left wrist. It stung badly. Mattheo had fallen asleep in the chair when he jolted awake to the sound of your movements, “Calm down, relax, you’re in the infirmary. You’re safe.” He couldn’t help but feel like he just lied about it being safe, if he was the cause of this.

“M…m..Mattheo” You began to cry again, “I’m so sorry.” You went to reach out and hug him but flinched. You followed the red transfusion line to him, “oh Mattheo.”

He sat up to lean towards you. He shushes you and wipes your tears with the back of his hand, ‘you need to calm down and take it easy, princess. You’ve lost a lot of blood and you're still weak. This is just to bring your levels up, you’ll start to feel better soon.”

You stared at his beautiful eyes, ones that had held so much hate but there seemed to be no trace of it now. You felt guilty, I acted like a coward. “Myrtle said it was going to be quick and painless. I’m so stupid I couldn’t even do it right.” You felt another wave of tears coming but  you tried to choke them down.

“No youre not, you’re not at fault.” He couldn’t help but chuckle cautiously as what he was about to say, “you might be a know-it-all but you just need to have more control with your thoughts. Don’t listen to Moaning Myrtle. Don’t be hard on yourself, you're not stupid. You did nothing wrong.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor.” you were so exhausted. But you needed to get this out before you lost consciousness again. With your good arm you help his hand tightly, looking him in the eyes again to emphasize the point you were going to make, “Mattheo, I really am idiotic. I Am. I did think you had a perfect life, it didn’t cross my mind that you had it any other way. You were always carefree and just let's be honest, acting like you're’ better than everyone else. It was wrong of me to have assumed that.”

He frowns. “Don’t apologize. There’s no way to tell what someone is going through ultimately. I..cope in my own way.” He softly strokes your cheek with this thumb.

If it wasn’t for the pain, you would have thought you were asleep. Dead. Or in purgatory. A realm between realms. No way the mattheo I’ve known my whole life is sitting beside me looking..lovingly at me? You felt horrible. Did I just manipulate him into caring about me? Just hours ago he was mocking and saying nasty things as usual. 

Mattheo could see the look of disbelief in your eyes from the way he was behaving, “Y/N. I’m caring for you. No you’re not dreaming or in some other realm. You’re here, with me, thank Merlin. You didn’t manipulate me, you woke me up.”

You sat up too quickly for your own good, your head feeling light “How are you doing that?” 

He shook his head, “Another time. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. You think I’m just some asshole, but I'm more than that really. I want to be more than that. No one else has gotten to see the real me.”

“Mattheo, I see you.” Despite your pain, you reach out to cup his face between your hands. For a second, you saw the boy you first laid your eyes on that first year at the train station. The same sad eyes, “I see you.”

He sighed into your touch, it was a soft and innocent gesture he was not used to. He chuckled softly, and gently placed his hands over yours, keeping them there. He didn’t want to lose the touch, “I know you do, and that’s exactly why I'm afraid.”

You couldn’t help but imagine - how different our lives could have been for the last 6 years, if he would have just introduced himself to me. Explained why he looked so pained when I was with my family. “My parents would have welcomed you as their own” you explained your thoughts to him. “I could have protected you. You could have visited me during the holiday breaks. I know saying it will not change the past and what has happened to you. But I see you Matty.”

“yeah..it’s too late to change the past, I should’ve but I didn’t think you’d understand. It doesn’t excuse the way I treated you all these years, Y/N.” His voice got shaky, his eyes starting to water. He was a mess.

“No, don't you start Mattheo please, baby.” You brought him into a hug, again ignoring your throbbing wrist. “Easy now.” you soothed the curls that were behind his neck. They felt so soft.

Mattheo rested his head on your shoulder and held you tightly, softly crying into you. He wrapped his arms around you and held onto your shirt like he was afraid to let go. He couldn’t remember the last time someone treated him like this, it felt so new and overwhelming.

You kissed the top of his head, inhaling - cigarettes. You hated that he smoked but at this moment the smalle was comforting. He let out a deep sigh. You broke the hug only because you scooted over on the bed, and tugged him to lay beside you. We watched you, he looked so tired. He nodded in agreement with a small smile, he carefully laid beside you, making sure to be careful of your condition.

You gave him a reassuring look that wasn’t hurting you. I’m okay. You looked at your arms touching side by side, still connected by the tubing. You couldn't help but laugh, “Matty isn’t it ironic? All this pure-blood and mudblood talk and look” you carefully lifted the tube, “we’re still one and the same foundation.” You smiled at him, helping wipe his tear stained cheeks now. “Thanks for your donation to me.”

He too couldn't help but grin back at you. He couldn’t believe you weren’t pushing him away for how he treated you, or for how vulnerable he was at the moment, “any time, but please actually don’t do that ever again. You made me worried to death..”

“No I won’t. Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky for him to take. 

He took it in his own nodding, “good, you’re stuck with me now.”

With our pinkies still woven, you  looked at the size difference. You turned toward his Bambi like eyes, “let's start this over on the right foot. Better late than never? Hi i’m Y/N, [insert some fun facts about yourself].”

Mattheo smiled more widely, blushing his pinky did make yours look kiddish. It was adorable. He gave you a playful look, smirking at you like he usually would, “Nice to meet you there, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, the sexiest guy you’ll meet in Hogwarts.”

There’s my Mattheo. “And you promise to…?” you coaxed him.

He gave your pinky another squeeze, “to try to be nice and kind to you, and avoid bullying you….as well as to not smoke in your presence…you happy?”

You kind of nodded, holding in your laugh, “aaaand…?”

He looked at you, trying to read what you wanted him to say. He gave your pinky another, slightly rougher, squeeze. “And I promise not to throw a wad of gum into your beautiful hair?”

“Bingo. Mr. Riddle, that’s what I was ultimately looking for.” You let go of his pinky, “but it is nice to know the other stuff too.” you waved your hand like it was nothing, but it was my everything. He gave you a sarcastic scoff, he liked that you were still acting like your old self too. 

You kissed his cheek and his face went redder than a cherry, you acted shocked “woah did I just make Mattheo, the sexiest guy in Hogwarts BLUSH?!” You slapped your hands against your cheeks in play disbelief, slightly regretting the pain it brought to your arms. He quickly shook his head and blushed even more than originally thought possible, he tried to hide his face away from you, “S-shut up! That’s a lie! I was not blushing, it’s just your imagination.”

You laughed at his reaction, taking his hand in mine once more comparing the hand sizes. You put my head against his shoulder, before dropping your jester attitude. Making him form another pinky promise with you. “Mattheo, I promise to be there for you. I want to protect you. You shouldn’t live in the shadow of your home life, especially not alone. Just as much as I’m stuck with you. You’re stuck with me. That’s my promise to you.”

His heart beat fast, it nearly melted his heart to hear your promise. He let out a deep, shaky breath. He couldn't stop the small tear that rolled down his cheek, he didn’t bother wiping it. He just leaned his head down to rest on your own, “deal…”

There was a pause, before you spoke up again.“I know we just started the year but please, come back home with me this Christmas holiday when it rolls around.” You blinked up at him. You started to feel really sleepy, that was to be your last request and plea for the moment, “I’ll show you how muggles get down to holiday business.”

Mattheo looked down at you and smiled softly, as your eyes were struggling to stay open, “yea sure, i’ll spend the holidays with you” he wasn’t sure how he would, but he would worry about that later.

Many promises were made this day, and you intended to keep each and every single one of them. In many ways, you knew this would still be the same Mattheo you had always known, but it would all be so different now. You managed to break through his extremely guarded shell, the hardest way possible. But it needed to desperately be broken.

You turned Mattheo’s head to look at you, he met your gaze. The corner of his lip curled up as he knew what you were about to do. He let you take the lead, closing his eyes. You kissed his lips slowly, cherishing how it felt. You wanted more of him, but your body was pleading for rest. You hugged his arm and surrendered.

He couldn’t help but touch his lips afterwards with his fingertips. He watched as you gave in to exhaustion, he followed your lead and let out a deep sigh before closing his eyes, “Goodnight princess.” Mattheo fell asleep to the sounds of you breathing and the sound of your heartbeat, they would surely become one of the most blissful lullabies to be heard by him. He intertwined his fingers with yours, he wouldn’t ever let go.

[mommageto]

Domestic Hashira (Himejima Gyomei x Reader)

Title: Domestic Hashira (Himejima Gyomei x Reader)

Word Count:  2120 words

Description: (Y/n) and Gyomei navigating the unfamiliar territory of an arranged marriage. 

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"He shall arrive shortly," Amane mumbled as she sat beside you. You took a deep breath and assured yourself that you had prepared yourself for this day. Being a distant relative of Kagaya Ubuyashiki, you were destined to marry and expected to produce an heir. Thus, you knew this marriage was not from a love match but rather an arranged marriage to ensure the heirs of your bloodline of any curses. Ever since you lost both of your parents at an early age, it did feel lonely, only having distant relatives around you. A part of you was nervous about meeting the man you to spend your life with. You were embellished with a beautiful wedding garment and patiently waiting for the man you are bound to marry. There were little to no expectations for your husband to be, but rather a kind man at the very least. 

The door opened, and Kagaya Ubuyashiki came in, followed by a huge man who towered at seven foot two, with spiky dark hair, and was covered with numerous crimson mala beads. A horizontal scar on his forehead and pale white eyes also allowed you to be surprised at the appearance of the man. "Shall we start with the ceremony?" Ubuyashiki asked. Both of them made their way near you. Ubuyashiki found his way to sit on the opposite side of Amane, as the stranger you ought to marry sat beside you. However, you noticed his manners as he acknowledged your presence by bowing to you as he was sitting beside you.

The man is enormous, very huge. This idea of him scared you a little, but you were not one to judge a stranger you were about to spend your life with. However, he was attractive and unfamiliar. After the ceremony, both of you exchanged a word with each other. Although Amane has filled you in with everything you need to know about your husbands. Himejima Gyomei–that is his name–is the stone hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps. Though you are an Ubuyashiki, you were least involved with the Demon Slayer Corps as you were a distant relative and did other duties for the family.

The information you got made you think that the man you married must be powerful as he is the strongest hashira. However, Amane never talked about how he is as a person; she focused on his qualifications, which only enabled you to hope that he is indeed a kind man.

Both of you were brought to your household to start your family. As you arrived at your shared home, you found it a bit awkward considering he is a stranger. Nevertheless, you were taught to be a wife and ought to pursue a conversation with him to properly tend to your husband.  The silence after you both spoke at the same time stretched, punctuated only by the chirping of crickets outside. You stole a glance at Gyomei, his face unreadable beneath the stoic mask. Clearing your throat, you decided to take the plunge.

"I–" both of you uttered and cut off each other. "I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt. Please, go ahead," Himejima continues. A short silence occurred between the both of you. 

"Hiimejim–" he cuts you off before you can finish, "Gyomei. You can call me Gyomei." A light flickered in your eyes as you stared at him with awe.

"Gyomei," you repeated, testing the name on your lips. He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Shall we enter?" you ask him. He gave you a sly nod and led you to enter the house you shared with him first. As you entered, the servants greeted you both and toured you around your home. They also had prepared a separate bath for you and your husband before you met each other for dinner. 

In the bath, you pondered about the things you've observed to be quite beguiling about your husband. You admit to yourself that you feel attracted to Himejima. That man had intimidating features that portrayed a very masculine form of a man. Despite your first impression, you can tell that Himejima has a compassionate nature. He was kind and respectful to the servants who greeted you both earlier. There's still more you want to know about him, and getting to know him will surely scratch that itch. 

Dinner was served afterward in your bath. You and your husband finished your meal with a small conversation about how your meal was delicious. Though, the night is still long–or feels like it. Both of you entered the chambers of your shared bedroom. It felt awkward being alone with Himejima. Although both of you are married, both of you are also still strangers who barely met each other just this morning. You saw the bedding in the room, and it made you feel nervous about sleeping next to him, which caused you to breathe heavily, allowing the giant man to hear. "(Y/n) I could sleep in another room if it makes you feel better," you hear Himejima say.  

Himejima's offer hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. On his face, you can see his genuine concern matched with the intimidating aura he always has. It was a gesture of respect, a recognition of your discomfort. "N-no… it's fine. You don't have to do that," you assured him.

The two of you settled on sleeping in the same room. Thus, peacefully set up your sleeping area not far away from each other but also not near each other. It was challenging to be asleep at that hour, as you were clouded with a number of emotions and new to this setup. The anxious feeling of sleeping with a man you just met today lingered in your thoughts. You didn't know what to do at this point but to sleep as it was getting late anyway. "Good night (y/n)."

"Good night, Gyomei." His words made you feel better as you still felt new to this situation. A simple good night makes you more comfortable with this arrangement. You got to sleep shortly after that. The dawn of time passed, and you heard noises and slightly opened your eyes, wherein you saw shadows. However, due to your thoughts depriving you of sleep the previous night, you gave in to yourself and slept through the dawn. 

As you rose from the bed, you noticed the room was tranquil. There was no sound of movement or the faintest whisper. You looked around your room and noticed that the bed beside you was nowhere to be seen. The absence of Himejima's towering figure was both comforting and unsettling. You went to the kitchen and were greeted by the servants who informed you that your husband was called on early for a mission. This made you feel disappointed because you wanted to get to know Himejima and spend time with him. 

The servants informed you that Himejima had to leave early for an urgent mission with a demon attack on a neighboring village. It's been three days without the presence of your husband near you. This made you feel lonely despite having people around your home. Not a day goes by that you do not have the same routine. After eating your breakfast alone, you decided to pay Amane a visit to ease that lonely feeling.

"(Y/n), how was your first night with Himejima-san?" she asks as she sits down beside you. You took a pause and tried to hold back from being honest with yourself. "It was alright, I was able to sleep comfortably after yesterday."

Amane was able to read the misery drawn in your face. She did not feel too good about this, so she questioned you more. "Are you sure it was alright? You seem to be tired and sorrowful."

"Oh, no, it's really fine." She wasn't convinced by your answer. "I hope Himejima-san was gentle, to say the least."

This shattered a glass of ideas. Amane was thinking of a different scenario for you to spend your first night with Himejima. "What? No! It's nothing like that. We didn't do it." You were defensive about it, and you could feel your face heat up despite it being just the two of you in the room.

The response you gave Amane surprised her. The idea of a newlywed couple spending the first night with each other in a venereal manner was pretty typical. Though you've never really thought about it yo,u and Himejima quickly dismissed that possibility rather quickly.

"(Y/n), have you and Himejima ever had an actual conversation about your marriage, to say the least?" Amane questions you. Now that question has been raised, you never really have thought about it. "We barely said a word to each other, and the other morning, he left for an urgent mission."

"Is that so? While I do not encourage you to force yourself on Himejima, you both should have a conversation about your marriage with him. Since you're gonna spend the rest of your life with him."

Amane's words struck your head from the moment she mentioned it to you until your journey home. One of the servants, Chiaki, approached to welcome you home. "Welcome back, my lady," she slightly bows, "Would you care to join Himejima-san for dinner?" 

Chiaki's words caught your attention. As you walked inside your house, you felt a sudden pain in your stomach and had an urge to vomit. Your vision was less clear–it was shaky. Another body pain hit you, you felt the pain reach your temples and your calves. However, you manage to get to the dining area.

The heavy wooden table creaked slightly under the weight of the untouched meal. You sat opposite Himejima with your face pale and drawn. You covered your mouth with haste as you felt the urge to vomit again. Himejima, with his other perfect senses, noticed that you didn't feel okay. 

"Is everything alright (y/n)?" he asks, trying to reach out to help you. Himejima could clearly tell that your body had collapsed on the ground. His robust frame moved with surprising speed as he reached you, his large hands gently cradling your head. Concern etched itself onto his face as he assessed your condition.

A throbbing pain pulsed in your temples, and a wave of nausea washed over you. Your vision blurred as consciousness slowly returned. With effort, your eyes opened, the world coming into focus gradually. You were in your bed, the soft glow of lanterns casting dancing shadows on the walls. Himejima was seated beside you, his face etched with worry. 

"Gyomei," you call out his name. "What happened?"

A relief from Himejima can be felt as he lifts his head with his softened face and relaxed face. "(Y/n), you're awake," he replied. "A demon followed you and attacked you secretly with its poison." Your head throbbed with a dull ache as you tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you. You reached out a trembling hand to steady yourself on the bed.

"A demon?" you managed to croak out, your voice hoarse. 

"Yes, a demon. Thankfully, I was able to take home an antidote for the demon's poison." You listened to Himejima's words with an understanding, even though there was still a slight concern on his face. "I apologize that I got you into this trouble. Being married to me only caused you trouble." A wave of empathy washed over you as you watched Himejima's tears fall. Gyomei is known to be the strongest hashira with his immense strength. Still, at this moment, vulnerability replaced his usual composure.

"Gyomei," you reached out, your hand finding his, offering comfort. "It wasn't your fault. These things happen." Your voice was gentle, filled with sincerity. 

"It was also my responsibility for not being here to protect you," he explained, his voice husky with emotion. His grip on your hand tightened, conveying a depth of remorse you hadn't expected. "Well, we're here together now," you say to him with a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you try to lighten the mood.

"Let's start over, (y/n)," he reached out to you and kissed your forehead. A warmth spread through you as his lips touched your skin. It was a simple gesture, yet it held a profound weight. You returned his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. It felt like an answered prayer from a yearning heart. That forehead kiss is a lingering faith of the couple for their relationship to bloom.

This story has a Part 2.

[noraigo]

JACK & JOKER: EPISODE 5 — forget and forgive.

this is THE scene, when for the first time after all these years, they can share a little bit of their loneliness. when joker can finally be forgived for what he's done to jack. that, maybe, they could start a new page together — where joker holds jack closer to his heart and jack looses his walls.

where joker can finally smile because he's genuinely being appreciated by the person whose kindness still remembers to this day.

[ierofrnkk]

hi so this movie is so fucking crazy

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | Rebellion Series | Caution

Part one of the Rebellion Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: By some miracle, you get saved from the consequences of your own actions. You’re reluctant to join a supposedly good cause. What happens when the good cause is not so legal? And what - or who - is your soft spot?

Warnings: Angst, fluff (?) and mentions of sex.

Words: 34OO

You have started shaking again. With every tremble of your body, the restraints around your legs and arms seem to tighten and you shudder even more at the awful memory of that feeling. It took weeks for the shaking to stop. Weeks of being locked up into this modern dungeon until you were nothing but silence and numbness.

You knew the rebellion could end in death, knew the consequences would be catastrophic, but at least you’d stood for something, fought for something. And you would choose death any day over the endless silence of this prison. You know for a fact that you’re surrounded by an ocean, but no matter how hard you listen, you cannot hear the wild sea crash. Can only hear the low hum of the air being circulated through your metal cell.

And today, approximately three months after the start of your sentence in the most secured prison on the planet, you have started shaking again. It can hardly be because today of all days, your brain has decided to make you go completely insane. That would be too random. Which means–

Your head snaps to the window, spotting the other cells. Empty. This floor is reserved just for you alone. Because apparently you’re too dangerous to interact with anyone. They even got machines bringing you your daily sustenance. An empty floor like every other day, yet something seems different. Something’s off.

A metal door flies through the middle of the circular space connecting all of the cells and you stiffen. You look at the ground again, keeping completely still. Maybe they don’t know that you’re here. Oh God, oh God, oh God. No, they can’t get to you. Not again.

The destruction clangs through your body and you tremble violently, curling up as much as you can and staring hard at the floor. The cold metal ground blurs with images of the rebellion. The things you gave up, the energy your summoned and wasted, the people you lost. The blood, and pain, and screams and– and– and…

“She’s in there. Grab her and then we get out of here.”

“Steve, I–”

“And hurry up, we don’t have much time!”

Two combat boots step into your vision and the stomps echo in your head, booming you back to reality. But not quite. Your eyes vibrate with fear and you swallow the nails in your throat. Then a pair of knees appear in front of you and a black gloved hand reaches forward. It hesitates, then retreats. As if choosing not to touch you. Wise choice.

“Hey.” The voice is low. And smooth as liquor.

But you don’t look up, focusing on trying not to tremble more and taking the firm contraptions wrapped around your shins and forearms as the protection they now are. Maybe this is another nightmare. It’s different from the ones you usually have, but black gloves… They had black gloves, too. And those firm boots. They may have kicked you in the stomach with those boots once. You don’t remember.

“I’m here to get you out,” the voice speaks again and you can only listen to the tone of voice, the way it sends a shockwave through your body and lessens the violent trembles. “Look up for me.”

You ignore him and focus on your breathing.

“Is she coming?” That first voice. Impatient. Panting.

The male before you turns to the centre of the floor and gives a frustrated sigh, “She’s pretty out of it.”

Before waiting for the other man to respond, he turns back to you and studies you. Even though you don’t see him, his stare burns right through the flimsy clothes they put on you. He lets out a soft sigh and flips out a knife from the holster at his waist, still kneeling before you. You stiffen, preparing yourself for the sting at your throat as they finally decide to get rid of you, but he tries his best not to touch any bare skin as he saws through the materials binding you together.

The relief of pressure from your skin make you feel so uneasy, you nearly throw up, but a gentle hand covers your arm and you finally look up. Warm, dark blue eyes connect with yours. Below heavy brows and above the faintest cluster of freckles. His mouth is soft and pillowy and his bone structure is otherworldly symmetrical.

“It’s okay,” he tells you gently and offers you a smile that you can tell doesn’t come to him naturally. “Can you walk?”

He pulls you to a stand with a firm, but comfortable grip and you instantly stumble on your feet at the weight suddenly put on them. One arm flies around your waist and hoists you into his side as he catches your fall.

“Okay, okay,” he grunts with a gentle laugh. “I got you. Let’s get the fuck out of here, alright?”

Your throat feels like sandpaper as you hobble along with the wall of a male dragging you along, “Who are you?”

He spares you a brief glance and smiles once more, following ‘Steve’ out of the building and onto an air craft that is way too loud. “Bucky. We’re here to help you. Or I suppose you’re here to help us, little rebel.”

…

Steve gives Bucky a knowing glare, only breaking it by daring a glance at your bedroom door which you have been effectively hiding behind for weeks now. “You know I can’t go in there, Bucky.”

“You know I won’t let you,” Bucky answers drily with a shrug. As opposed to his best friend, Bucky hasn’t stopped staring at your door.

“You’re not even hiding your possessiveness when it comes to her,” Steve breathes through a laugh. That makes Bucky finally look at his friend.

“I’m not possessive,” he says matter-of-factly. He’s not even offended, just practical. “I’m protective. The last thing she needs is all of the nosy people in this tower swirling around her when she doesn’t trust a single soul.”

“Has she started to trust you?”

Bucky has to keep from wincing at Steve’s question, and he clears his throat. “Sure,” he lies.

If Steve caught the lie, he didn’t let on. It was as much of a dismissal as he was going to get. After watching his best friend walk off to do captain things, Bucky braces himself to step into your room. He has no hope that his interaction with you will be any different than the previous ones.

“Another day of convincing me to be your weapon?” you nearly snarl when he walks into your room.

If Bucky is entirely honest, he thought you would have turned into this damaged girl that would morph into a wild animal as you worked through what had been done to you. He didn’t really expect this perseverance and defiance from the woman he saved from that prison. But he supposes he should have seen that question coming. It wasn’t his best work; starting that day he saved you with all of the things you could be doing for them. Why they had saved you. Simply for their own gain. Or that is how you understood it, at least…

He has never been good with words. That has always been Steve’s thing. Bucky was reliable physically and he paid attention. He never had to use many words to make his point. Yet you keep asking these questions – rhetorical, he thinks – and you keep giving him this penetrating stare until he answers. Which is a sure way to make him fuck up, because how do people do that? Bring sensible thoughts into words and make it make sense?

Especially when the woman asking said questions is so damned… pretty.

“It’s time for you to get out of this room,” he tells you plainly. It seems the tactic of ignoring your questions is effective. It only took him six days to figure that one out.

He strides over to cross the room, not sparing you another glance in your chair in the corner, and rips open the curtains. The cat-like hiss coming from you has Bucky nearly biting back a smile. He turns and watches you stand from your chair, stalking over to him with your chin high and a scowl on your face. He raises an eyebrow with amused intrigue.

“And what, exactly, will I be doing outside of my room?” you ask.

He dips down slightly, but you keep the proximity. “Whatever you want. I don’t care.”

“If you don’t care, why hunt me out of my room?”

He shrugs, “Captain’s orders.” He isn’t entirely lying.

“Why isn’t the captain telling me himself?”

Bucky smirks and leans even closer, making you feel his minty breath fan over your face. “Because I’m the only one who isn’t scared of you.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes before breaking away from him. “I’ll get dressed.”

Bucky tries his hardest not to look too stunned as you retreat into the bathroom. A deep sigh leaves his lips as he paces through your room in wait for you to get ready. It takes a whole lot of effort to muster a smirk when it comes to his interactions with you.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he asks quietly.

Just as quietly, the house responds, “Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Has she asked for anything from you? To contact friends or family, or other information?”

“No, she hasn’t.”

“Does she have anyone left?” he tries, chewing his lip as he dreads the answer.

“Not that we’re aware. Mr. Stark had me run a background check, but she seems alone. No sign of anyone missing or deceased. No sign of a network at all.”

Bucky doesn’t know why that feels worse in his chest and he swallows. “Alright, thank you.”

A few moments later, you step out of the shower and find Bucky lounging in the chair he found you in, leafing through one of your books. Just as you’re about to check whether he has gotten his hands on one of your smuttier books, your eyes snag on the clothes laid out for you on the bed.

You pause long enough to make Bucky look up from the book. “Did you… Did you seriously pick out this underwear for me?”

Bucky eyes the lace panties dangling from your fingers and shrugs with a smirk. A smirk had never looked so enticing, but you sharpen your stare on him. “Do you prefer the grey, cotton ones in the back of the closet?”

You grit your teeth and scowl at him again, before morphing your mouth into a vindictive smile. “Why? Don’t you?”

His eyes dance at that. “Wouldn’t make a difference to me.”

And it’s the way he said it, with so much casual amusement and… promise. Heat rises to your face and you duck your head down. Snatching the clothes from the bed, you retreat back into the bathroom to get dressed.

…

The rest of your conversations had been purely functional as Bucky lead you down into the building where Steve was waiting. Bucky rolled his eyes at his friend’s horrible attempt at hiding his surprise. Steve hadn’t seen you since the day they came to save you, he must have never expected Bucky to be successful in his retrieval.

Bucky also hadn’t missed the meaningful look Steve then gave him that indicated he tucked away some valuable information. The information being that if they ever needed to get you to do something, Bucky is the way to get you to do it. Why? Steve seemed to have his theories and Bucky didn’t like it one bit.

However, for now he doesn’t care. Instead, he sticks by you after you reluctantly agreed to join Steve on a walk.

Strolling down the path through the surrounding woods, Bucky catches himself bracing for a fight every time Steve gets a little too close to you. He doesn’t like it. The last time he was this sensitive to proximity, he had just ran from Hydra. He’s seen other traumatised people before, but this feels different. And instead of listening to your and Steve’s conversation, he tries to figure out what it is. He supposes it’s because you have no survival instinct. In the few videos he’s seen of your rebellion and the encounters he has had with you the past weeks, you see danger or conflict and run straight toward it. Nothing scared or cautious about you. It sets his nerves on edge.

Bucky is well aware of what Steve is telling you and he has to refrain from rolling his eyes at the careful way Steve tries to coax you into their plan, when earlier that week they had not been nearly as careful as they calculated how to get you involved. But even Bucky had to admit that they needed you – specifically, everyone who would follow you into the grave. When Stark had shown him the videos, he was perplexed as to how you got such a huge following when what you fought for was so terribly dangerous. But one look at those sharp eyes and one deep command from you, and Bucky had seen it. That unwavering will and that brilliant brain that was always calculating. Steve could learn a few tricks from you on being a strong leader. And considering Bucky wildly admires his old friend, that is saying something.

They need you. Bucky knows it, too. They need not just someone with great leadership skills and a loyal following, but someone that does it out of empathy for the people mistreated by the system. Because that is who they’re going to be fighting – the system.

Again.

…

“You haven’t said anything about what Steve told you,” Bucky says on your walk back to your room. The offer to escort you back to your room hadn’t been entirely selfless.

“I need to think about it,” you murmur, deep in thought.

Bucky suppresses his sigh of sympathy. They are asking you to join a cause you were so passionate about, and that after failing so miserably last time. He can barely imagine the things you must have witnessed and endured with your last upraise. How you had gotten so influential that the government decided to treat you like you were a super-human and punished you accordingly. You had been put in the same prison as Wanda. Wanda. That is how powerful you were.

“It can’t be easy to revisit everything after all that’s happened,” he resigns and you blink from your thoughts to raise your eyes to his face. You study him and it takes all of Bucky’s might not to shift under your assessing gaze.

Then you speak up, “I’ve always done the right thing. Steve knows I can’t walk away from it…”

Bucky smiles at that. “Just like him.”

Your eyes narrow at that comment, but Bucky finds no venom in the look. You continue, “Sacrificing my life for the cause was never an issue. But to lead others into that same fate again?” The guilt had eaten you alive. All those people that had gotten arrested, split up from loved ones, hurt– worse…

Bucky interrupts your thoughts before they get a hold on you by clearing his throat. “Tonight, we have dinner with everyone. You’re welcome to join if you’d like.” Your heavy stare on him makes him quickly add, “Don’t give me that look. There will be no talk of overthrowing the government. Just dress fancy.”

The snort of a laugh that comes from you feels lighter to Bucky than he’d like to admit. And to ease the tension, he forces another smirk to his face. You narrow your eyes again warily, “What.”

He shrugs, turning to leave you alone at your door. Then he winks. “Let me know if you need me to pick out some underwear for you.” And then he’s gone.

Bucky hangs onto that cockiness all the way until dinner, where the entire group has showed up. Even Thor said he’d show up for a drink. Barton flew in from his family home to join the group as well. He remembers a time when he’d felt more than uncomfortable around this group of people. But so much has changed. They all saw him as a great asset to the team and even relied on him more and more to supervise the missions. He’s at home with them now. Heart swelling with affection, he listens to his friends – his family – laugh in the kitchen while they pour the drinks.

And then all of their faces turn into one direction, some of them pulling taut, few of them giving warm, comforting smiles. Bucky follows their gaze and it is like someone punched him in the gut, air whooshing out of his body. He doesn’t really know why – other than the obvious fact that you look ravishing of course. But he looks at you and clears his throat to welcome you to the group.

Natasha beats him to it though and it has Bucky’s hackles rising. She shoots him a knowing smile and then he backs off. His pride wounded like a cat booped on the nose. Natasha is good at it, charming people until they feel comfortable. Or take their pants off. But there’s an easy smile on your face – one Bucky knows is at least slightly forced – and you blend in with the crowd easily.

Suddenly, Sam’s at his side. “I know what you’re thinking,” he grumbles with his eyes on you and Natasha, followed by a swig of his beer bottle. “Those two together can only mean trouble.”

Bucky can only grunt in agreement.

…

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Natasha drawls with a guilty smile.

Barton shakes his head. “The poor schmuck didn’t stand a chance. There is no way you could have taken him if you hadn’t slept with him the night before.”

Natasha shrugs. “Look, a girl has her needs. He met them and the next day he met his fate.”

“Really, Nat?” Steve nearly cringes and Bucky reins in his laugh. “The guy’s moral compass was straight from hell and you decided to sleep with him?”

Natasha barely manages to open her mouth before you decide to pitch in, raising a glass to her. “I get it. Terrible morals do add a little spice in the bedroom.”

Nat clinks her glass with yours and mutters a ‘she gets it’, but Bucky’s eyes are searing through your skin. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised at such outrageous claims coming out of your mouth. There is nothing innocent about you. Good, yes. Innocent? No. Yet perhaps it isn’t ‘surprise’ that is warming his body from the inside out.

Conversation flows easily between the Avengers and the food Tony had made easily beats the Brooklyn comfort food Bucky usually seeks out. Cheeks turn rosy from the drinks, voices get louder, lights get dimmer. Bucky has to really look to be sure what he’s seeing. You, relaxed and happy. Such a stark contrast to the woman he found in the prison. No wonder you’re so good with people. People make you good.

He can barely manage his smirk however, when he notices the strain in your body to keep from looking at him. Why you are so adamant to avoid him, he can’t really tell. But this is now your weak spot, so he cannot help but tuck the info away for later.

The night carries on and everyone switches places, catching up on endless memories and adventures and being surprisingly considerate to include you in most conversations. Bucky ends up at the head of the table, you on the seat closest to him, both listening to Sam. You listen closely and Bucky can only assume you have some relief from being actively distracted from him. And being the arrogant bastard he knows he can be, he ‘accidentally’ brushes a knuckle over the back of your hand that’s resting on the table. He watches you stiffen and swallow, but like a true rebel, you show no other sign that it affected you.

A few more stunts like that had Bucky pressing his knee to your thigh under the table and it takes everything not to pull away from it. So you gaslight yourself to let the touch ground you. To absorb his warmth and relax even more into the touch. And if you guess it correctly, the way you respond to Bucky’s touch is not what he expected… So you find yourself having the upper hand again.

And if you’re going to join these people in their cause, what’s a little game with your menace of a saviour?

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] Sakuya Sakuma | [SSR] Devil Maid’s Reward | Homemade Omurice

Guest A: Everything was once again delicious today.

Guest B: We’ll come again!

Sakuya: Yes, please do come again! Thank you so much!

*Shop bell rings*

Store Manager: Good work, Sakuma-kun.

Sakuya: Good work to you too. Seems like the lunch rush is over.

Store Manager: Yeah, things have finally settled down. You’ve been so busy all day, aren’t you tired?

Sakuya: A bit… But it makes me happy to see so many smiles on the customer’s faces, so I’m totally fine!

Store Manager: Being able to say things like that is what’s so great about you, Sakuma-kun.

Sakuya: Really? Thank you!

Store Manager: Haha, alright, after you clear that table, why don’t you take a break, Sakuma-kun? I made napolitan for the employee meal, so why don’t you have some?

Sakuya: Wait, there’s napolitan today? I’m glad! 

Sakuya: (I can’t wait to have napolitan.) 

Store Manager: If it looks like there won’t be too many more customers today, do you want to try making that one dish again?

Sakuya: Can I really? I’d love that!

Store Manager: You’ve gotten pretty good at making it, so I’m guessing today will be the last day I teach you.

Sakuya: Ahaha, I’ll do my best to make sure that’s the case.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Good morning, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: Morning. Wait, forget about that. I didn’t know you were still here, Sakuya.

Sakuya: Yeah, I’ve been stretching in the rehearsal room… Are you going out somewhere today, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: I have new clothes I want to make, so I’m staying here.

Sakuya: I see! Can I see them whenever you make them?

Yuki: If I finish them.

Izumi: Ah, Sakuya-kun and Yuki-kun. So you two are still in the dorms.

Sakuya: Us two…?

Yuki: Oh, yeah, it has been awfully quiet today, hasn’t it?

Izumi: Everyone else left this morning, so I guess it’s just us for now.

Sakuya: Huh, really? It’s kinda weird for there to be so few people here.

Izumi: Will you be going to your part-time job today, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Nope, I’m off today.

Izumi: Gotcha, so you’ll be able to take things easy then!

Sakuya: Yeah! I’m thinking of relaxing and reading the play I borrowed from the library later.

Sakuya: …Ah, right. You like omurice, right, Yuki-kun?

Yuki: I do, but why?

Sakuya: I’ve actually been learning how to make omurice at my part-time job recently.

Izumi: When you say at your part-time job, do you mean the Western-style restaurant Hanamura’s?

Sakuya: Yeah!

Yuki: I thought you were a server.

Sakuya: That’s my main job, but sometimes I’d end up in the kitchen doing dishes or something.

Sakuya: And I ended up watching the people in there cook…

Sakuya: After that, the manager started teaching me how to make omurice every once in a while when there weren’t that many customers.

Izumi: So that’s why! That was really nice of the manager to teach you.

Sakuya: Yeah. They’ve been really good to me!

Yuki: …So, what you’re saying is that you know how to make Hanamura’s omurice too.

Sakuya: Yeah, I’ve just finally memorized the recipe and the steps to making it pretty well.

Yuki: Huh, that’s great.

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Yuki: Hanamura’s omurice is pretty good.

Izumi: Yeah, their omurice is good, but so are their other dishes too.

Sakuya: Really!? Thank you.

Yuki: I dunno what you’re saying thank you for, you’re not the one making the dishes.

Sakuya: I also love Hanamura’s food because it’s so delicious, so I was just happy to hear you both say it’s good!

Yuki: Well, I guess I get how you feel. Hanamura’s omurice is pretty top-tier.

Izumi: It’s the kind that’s got chicken rice wrapped in it!

Sakuya: I like the kinda omurice that’s got ketchup on it!

Yuki: That’s the kind where you can write or draw stuff with the ketchup before you eat it. Omurice made the real way like that is no doubt the best, in my opinion.

Yuki: Man, talking about omurice has made me kinda hungry…

Izumi: Ah, it’s already past noon! I didn’t even realize. Alright, let’s find something to eat then.

Izumi: Is there anything you guys want for lunch? If I can make it, I’ll make it, otherwise, I can go out and buy something…

Sakuya: Um, well… If the two of you want, why don’t I make some omurice?

Izumi: Huh, you will, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Yeah. And if we’re missing ingredients, I’ll go out and buy them. What do you guys think?

Izumi: I think we have all the ingredients, but… Are you really sure?

Sakuya: Of course! I mean, I wanted to make it for you, Yuki-kun, since you like omurice, and for you, Director, as thanks for always looking out for me, so…

Izumi: Thank you, I’m glad to hear that.

Yuki: You do know I’m pretty picky about my omurice, right?

Sakuya: I do. That’s why I want you to try omurice made by me…

Yuki: Hmm. Well, I just so happened to have been craving some omurice, so good luck.

Sakuya: Great! I’m gonna make delicious omurice just like from Hanamura’s, so look forward to it!

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Izumi: Alright, Yuki-kun and I will be in the dining room, so just call if you need anything.

Sakuya: Okay, thank you so much!

Sakuya: Alright, time to start cooking. For the ingredients, I need to get out…

Sakuya: Onions, bell peppers, chicken… Ah, and mushrooms. Good thing we’ve got all the ingredients!

Sakuya: First, I need to finely chop the onions…

Sakuya: (This’ll be divided among three people, so I’ll need quite a bit.)

Sakuya: Ueh…

Sakuya: (My eyes are watering… But I’ve gotta power through in order to make some delicious omurice!) 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: I’ve finished cutting up the bell peppers and the mushrooms too, now all that’s left is to cut up the chicken to be the size like how I was taught…

Sakuya: …Alright, I’m finished cutting things up.

Sakuya: Next, I’ve gotta beat the eggs and add a bit of milk and salt to them.

Sakuya: Then I just need to prepare the rice and then… There, everything’s ready to go!

Sakuya: (Time to get started on making some chicken rice! I just need to heat the frying pan, and then add some oil…)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Pan sizzling*

Sakuya: (...And now the chicken rice is complete! Good thing I was able to follow the recipe.)

Izumi: It’s starting to smell good.

Yuki: Seems pretty promising.

Sakuya: (I’m glad they’re both looking forward to it.)

Sakuya: It’s almost ready, so you’ll only have to wait for a bit longer!

Izumi: Feel free to take your time!

Yuki: I don’t want you screwing it up.

Sakuya: (All I’ve gotta do is cook the eggs, and then add the chicken rice before rolling it up.)

Sakuya: (But the cooking conditions are pretty tricky, so I’ve gotta adjust things and then shape them, so here’s where I’ve gotta really focus in…!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: The omurice is done! It got kinda misshapen, but…

Izumi: Wow, it looks so good!

Yuki: Well, it looks good enough, at least.

Sakuya: I brought ketchup, so you can put it on however you’d like.

Yuki: Alright, I wanna draw something, so I’ll use it first. I’ve just gotta do something like this, and…

Izumi: That’s Yurukuma!

Yuki: Bingo.

Sakuya: Whoa, that’s really good! I wanna try drawing something like you did too.

Yuki: Okay, here’s the ketchup.

Sakuya: Thanks. I think I’ll draw some kinda animal too. Okay, first I’ll do the outline…

*Ketchup splashes out*

Sakuya: Uwhoa!?

Izumi: That came out so forcefully…!?

Yuki: Now, what exactly compelled you to strangle it? Your omurice is practically drowning in ketchup.

Sakuya: I was gonna try drawing something… Well, I guess I can’t draw anything anymore.

Yuki: You’d probably be able to do it if you actually do it right, but… It’d still be hard.

Sakuya: Yeah…

Izumi: Ah, then do you wanna swap with my omurice? There hasn’t been any ketchup put on it yet, so you can draw on it!

Sakuya: Huh!? But this one’s smothered in ketchup, I can’t let you eat that, Director…

Izumi: It’s fine, it’ll taste the same! Here, we’ll switch.

Sakuya: …Ah, then we don’t have to switch. Why don’t I just draw something on your omurice, Director? 

Izumi: Are you sure?

Sakuya: I’m sure! Like you said, it’ll taste the same, so I can just eat mine.

Izumi: Gotcha. Well, if you’re sure about it, then feel free to go ahead, Sakuya-kun!

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

Sakuya: (This time I’ve gotta be careful…)

Sakuya: …

Sakuya: …Done!

Yuki: Huh, that’s not half bad.

Sakuya: Really? It makes me happy to be praised by you like that, Yuki-kun.

Izumi: Is this a drawing of a cat, Sakuya-kun?

Sakuya: Ah, yeah! I’m glad you were able to tell.

Izumi: Hehe, it’s cute!

Yuki: Now that we’re done with the ketchup, let’s hurry up and eat. Th: e omurice is gonna get cold.

Sakuya: Right, let’s eat!

Sakuya & Yuki: Let’s eat.

Izumi: Let’s eat!

Izumi: Ah, it’s really good! It’s just like Hanamura’s omurice.

Yuki: Yeah, it seems like you followed the recipe perfectly.

Sakuya: I couldn’t afford to screw it up knowing that you two would be eating it…

Izumi: Hehe, I appreciate it. It’s thanks to that that it tastes so good!

Izumi: Ah, right. You’ve still got quite a bit of ketchup there, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: You’re right…

Izumi: Can I use some of it then?

Yuki: Ah, I’ll take some too.

Sakuya: Sure, here you go!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yuki: Ahh, I’m stuffed.

Izumi: Hehe, same here. That was really good.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: Thanks for the delicious omurice.

Izumi: Thank you for the omurice, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: You’re welcome. But I also have to thank you for eating it!

Izumi: Even if you follow a recipe exactly, it’s hard to make a dish the same way it’s made at a restaurant because stuff like heat and other things can cause even minor changes.

Izumi: It was really good! Just like what you’d eat at a restaurant! I could really tell that you practiced a lot, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Ehehe, I’m happy to hear you say that!

Option 2: That was a luxurious lunch.

Izumi: That was a luxurious lunch we had today.

Yuki: It really was just like Hanamura’s omurice.

Sakuya: But it was shaped kinda wonky, and I messed up with the ketchup drawing…

Izumi: But it still tasted really good, so it’s okay!

Izumi: Plus, the picture you drew on my omurice was really cute.

Sakuya: Ehehe, thank you so much.

Sakuya: It really is fun to cook when there’s someone there to eat it!

Yuki: I’m expecting to get some nicely shaped omurice next time you make it.

Sakuya: Yeah, I’ll work hard to make sure the omurice is perfectly shaped next time!

Yuki: When that happens, I’ll draw something cute on your omurice, Sakuya.

Sakuya: Really? I’m glad. Well, I’ll look forward to that!

[thegreatcrowdragon]

The thing I wanted to do in the sleep paralysis demon sm fic was try to show like. The progression of how he views pv. Like at first the nightmares were incredibly violent, basically Shadow Milk killing Pure Vanilla over and over, and poor pv would wake up screaming practically every time. Then he (sm) started to like him, and it all mellowed out. Of course they’re still nightmares, and there’s been multiple (dream) scenarios of sm killing White Lily in front of him because haha mental trauma + why does he like her more than me that is unacceptable

[lunarwench]

Stay Though My Arms Shake

Notable Tags: Post-game, Bloodweave, Astarion/Gale, M/M, Rated E, Slow burn, Friends-to-Lovers, Multiple Failed Insight Checks, Domestic Fluff/Smut, Falling in Love, Two Idiots Under One Roof, Longing, Pining, Yearning, all of it rolled into one desperate bundle, Happy Ending Summary: After the brain, Gale invites Astarion back to Waterdeep to live with him. They're friends who have gone through hell and back, saved the world together, and now they can both finally breathe. Without the fear of death around every corner, previously-dismissed feelings are now free to grow.

I try to capture these two idiots in love and how desperate they are for each other, while still making it believable how they'd fall in love after becoming so close during the game. Reblogs appreciated! For those interested, there are multiple pieces of fanart in the fic itself, with links to all the wonderful artists responsible.

[snadwich-underscore]

sherlock and little watson :-)

[solsticesailor]

Reference for my oc!!

[usertoxicyaoi]

"Jun Sung, please go to the phone booth and express your feelings to someone that you like in 30 seconds." HIS MAN 2 (2023). Jun Sung + Sung Ho in Episode 3.

[preciouslandmermaid]

the drift that binds us ;;

A Zutara Pacific Rim AU || Read on AO3 Rating: E (for violence + sexual content in later chapters)

Summary:

A worldwide invasion from the depths of the ocean sank cities and collapsed infrastructure. The Jaeger program was a call to action, a heroic response that united the world government and nations. Katara piloted the Jaeger, Arnakuagsak, until a fateful battle against a category two Kaiju changed her life. She and Sokka quit the program and Katara vowed to never pilot again. Katara believed they would never truly defeat the Kaiju invasion without understanding them—and those in charge never listened to her. Zuko, known as the Prince, was seen as Jaeger royalty despite never piloting. But after his mother fell into a coma after joining Ozai, the program drafted Zuko to be Ozai’s new co-pilot. Through the drift, Zuko saw the truth of his mother’s condition and rebelled against Ozai’s influence. The Jeager program began to fall apart and left its so-called royalty to fend for themselves. Now, five years later…Zuko and Katara are called to action. Although neither wishes to pilot a Jaeger again, they must learn to overcome their differences and embrace their strengths if they’re ever going to live in a Kaiju-free world without constant danger and senseless death.

taglist:

@miilena327 ~ @eponastory ~ @looonytooons ~ @vaderdala1541 ~ @cafedegua

[pidgemotoiii]

Hot for Shuri

Professor Shuri x Black fem Reader

An: @ventingfanfics, Dude you really had me up on breaks with those professor shuri fics. You really did that honestly (Idk how to 'dedicate' or use this app properly but thank you for inspiring me to write again mwah, and all the other shuri writers thank you.

Word count: 3.1K

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Please do not forget to do your reading on page 107! Reading is just as important as the homework people!” 

Her voice boomed off of every wall in the lecture hall. The students filed out of their seats, going to lunch, another class, hookup, anyone’s guess really. 

“They never really listen, do they?” her voice softened, clearly out of professor mode.

There is really no introduction needed but this is Shuri Udaku, your Artificial Intelligence, and Machine Learning professor for the spring semester. 

She’s beautiful, and her smile gets a thousand miles wide when she gets on a topic she’s passionate about. She’s attentive, never missing a question, and always advertising her one-on-one study sessions. She’s caring-

“Hi! Are you here to see me?” if she only knew that's why you took her class-her black turtleneck was form-fitting and her black slacks were clean and crisp, maybe even starched. Her loafers are polished, not a speck of dust or dirt. You might be a little scared if her eyes didn’t literally spell out ‘home’ for you or ‘take me home’. Her pea coat is a little oversized, but considering her small frame, it wasn’t something out of the left field. 

Ah, Shit. She looks so elated to have someone staying behind to see her. Good thing for you, you don't have to tell her that you just wanted to stare some more. Professor Udaku is practically buzzing, she’s running her free hand over the shaven side of her head and down her neck. Now it switched to tugging at the straps on her bag, her face pleading for you to ask her something.   

“Uhm- about chapter seven. I didn't even understand a sentence to even ask you a question.” You let out a sigh and put your head in your palms: ‘Maybe too truthful’ you said to yourself. 

She placed her hand and delicately kneaded the sliver of skin between your neck and shoulder. She tilted her head and smiled, ��it's okay you’ll be fine’, the message was well received by you. Professor Udaku rested her bag on the seat in front of you and shuffled her way to sit next to you. A quiet ‘excuse me’ as she passed by. As she turned the chair towards you a terrible screech echoed across the classroom snapping you out of your reverie. She chuckled softly, soothing your metaphorical wound, desperately grasping to have your attention on her again. Having crushes are terrible for the heart.  You prayed you didn’t say what you thought out loud.

“We’ll get there when we get there.” She’s so wise. She pulled out a yellow notepad from her bag and began to write.

“This is my-”

“Oh no no I already have it, you put it on the board on Monday remember.” You abruptly tried to rebuttal by grabbing her hand and forcing her to stop writing. She closed her eyes, shook her head no, and gently removed your hand from atop hers. It was really nice while it lasted so you leaned in closer to see what else she was writing. 

She spoke softly and clearly, “This is my personal phone number, if you have any questions-”

“Any?” You butt in again.

“Yes any, please don’t hesitate to ask. I see you have a lot of questions, make sure to text them to me.Though for your sake and mine, my cutoff time is ten pm.” She rolled her eyes at you but you could tell they held no malice. Your face could not handle the intimacy of the conversation you guys were having. The level of smiling you were doing should be illegal. You were ecstatic- 

She tore off the note and for a brief moment you felt her hand touch yours again. This time you observed more carefully; short and carefully manicured nails perfect for working in a lab (and something else if she wants to). You two said your goodbyes and she left. As she walked out though, you could tell, she had more of a bounce in her step than before you two talked. 

Shit! no, you need to go! Lia made you promise that you would meet up at the cafe for twelve it’s eleven thirty- You swiftly packed your bags and sprint out of the lecture hall.

–-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cafe was warm, small tables lined the floors and brown walls with dark green detailing. Decaf filtered the air but there was a special area you two liked to sit in. Separating the cashier line and the rest of the cafe was a high table with barstools and a lengthy counter that could seat at least ten. You spotted her and she had her laptop out and a sandwich waiting for you.

“Lia! Lia!” Your voice is loud but careful not to disturb the other patrons.

“Babe! Over here!” She is not so considerate, always moving 

This is Lia, your best friend, and overall the best person you know on campus. Her braids are always in a ponytail for mostly being in the kitchen such as the life of a culinary student and pastry chef in training. Also, the best person to go to for advice and free brownies.

“Lia, guess what!” You nearly threw yourself over the barstool trying to regain the motor function that your professor stripped you of. 

“Oh no you have that look on your face again” Her face turned into a snarl, clearly disgusted at what you’re going to tell her. Lia looked you up and down, trying to sniff out what had made you so fidgety. A few things racked through her mind. 

“What look?” You questioned. You truly wanted to know what look you had on your face.

Lia sucked her teeth. She found the thing.

“Don’t suck your teeth at me-” You shot back.

“I can suck my teeth at you whenever I want!” she continued, at this point who could stop her. “You!”

“Me?!” Your eyes bulged. 

“Yes you! Don’t I think I don't know about your little hot for teacher situation” 

Your mouth was agape, too many eyes locked unto you two. There was silence, a ‘not a creature stirred, not even a mouse’ type of situation. The ‘best person on campus’ title is growing quite thin. 

“Why would you say that out loud like that?!”  

“A light shaming never hurt anyone.” 

This bitch- she was amused at your plight.

“I love you, you know this but babe, you have a crush on the teacher whose your hardest class. You won’t even take up her study seshes which are designed to help you. It’s only February and this class isn’t even part of your major, you just wanna look up in her face! You doin’ bad babe.” 

‘Oh my God am I really that bad’ you posed that ever-looming question to yourself. Lia might be right, but who would you be if you took her advice not you that's who. That 90-degree of that jawline is the best version of NyQuil you could ever get. 

“Now tell me what you have to tell me.” Her face is stone cold, and the botox finally sets in. Well now you didn't even want to tell her the good news, but who else are you telling, your therapist?

“She gave me her actual number. She told me to ask her any questions I have but not past ten.” You regained your smile as you recounted the events earlier today. Attempting to save some sort of face and scrounging around for some charm you had to mask the deep goofiness that was coming out of your mouth. 

Lia looked exhausted by the time you finished. She took a deep inhale and exhaled. She took out her phone and began furiously texting.“I’m gonna do you a big favor. I sent you Riri Williams’ number.” She dumped her phone down and it made a sound. 

“Who…?” Your voice is hushed.

“Don't play cute. Oh.. you’re serious?” You gave her a head tilt that meant ‘duh’.

“Cornrows, a year above us, just under 5’3, brown skinned.” She continued hoping to jog a memory that you clearly didn’t have. 

Your eyes flicked from left to right, “That could be anyone, thanks.” Your voice is an unwavering monotone.

“You’re welcome, she’s in robotics, heard she’s a prodigy and she's doing classes at a discounted rate.” She blessed you with a sickeningly sweet smile. 

“A discounted rate? What’s the discount? I don’t trust you.”

 Lia’s eyes seemed to dart everywhere but your face, how strange. 

“Two hundred fifty.” 

“Two hundred and fifty! Lia- what’s the rate then?” You asked her frantically, eyes dotted over her face anticipating a ‘just kidding’.

“Ten percent-” Your brows furrowed, and your eyes and mouth crinkled. 

“Shit.” You bonked your head on the table, your butterfly locs falling in your face. Her hands trying to brush the locs out of your face.

“That you are in.” You could hear her snickering trying to not break her caring friend act. 

“That’s not funny.” Your voice muffled from being in your hands.

“It is to me.” You looked up and her lips were puckered, failing to hide her smile. You felt as if your eyes would get stuck in the back of your head. 

“At least tell me where to find her.” She sighed, finally getting your head out of your ass.

“Try the Q dorms across from the library. I think she said the dorm number is one hundred eight.”

“Thanks.” 

“You're welcome again, ugh have to go to my next class. Professor said try to be early for a demonstration. I already ate lunch so Imma have to see ya. Make sure to tell her Lia sent you” 

“Alright later.” She gives you a dismissing wave and mouths ‘you better fix your shit’ with a point too, she meant business. You playfully cut your eye at her. Her walk was sad at best, demotivating at worst to watch, obviously not wanting to go early to class but begrudgingly went like a good little student. You grabbed your phone and typed out a quick message to Riri Williams. 

Riri Williams(Possible Tutor)

Hey, this is Lia’s friend, she said you did classes.

2:05 pm 

‘Might as well do some homework’, you thought. Two pages of an essay and two CIS assignments later you heard a ‘bzzt!’ 

Riri Williams(Possible Tutor)

Hey this is Lia’s friend, she said you did classes.

2:05 pm 

Hey yeah, come over to the tech building so we could talk more I hav to do sumthin for a teach

3:55 pm

Rm 24

3:56 pm

Room twenty-four in the tech building it is then. You just came from there and now you have to go back there again ugh you might just have to do the Lia walk. You pack up your things and go again- you reach there around four fifteen. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knock on the open door not wanting to startle the girl. This isn’t a classroom, it's a printing room. The walls are grey and only one blinking light seems to work in the large space. You thought MIT had the money to fix these things and one window, sad.

“Hey you could come in, don't be scared.” her voice is raspy, and she’s hunched over one of the printers. She’s been here for at least two hours judging from the number of copies on the printer. What do you know she is just under 5’3, and you’re scared the printer might just eat her alive.

“Done! All three hundred!” She shoots up, stretches, and shakes her head. You just watch and wait till she catches her breath. 

“So why are you here?” Straight to the point, you like it. 

“My friend Lia said you did tutoring for mostly anything physics related.” 

Her eyes light up when you say Lia’s name and her smile turns crooked. You wondered why she didn’t look at you in the cafe. She pauses and fixes her face back to a neutral expression. She does a quick headcount by the hundreds to make sure she did whatever she was doing correctly and nods.

“Come, walk with me.” More walking you think, you subtly roll your eyes and pick up the pace. 

“Class?” She can barely look at you through the mountain of papers.

“Introduction to Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning.” Her head swiftly tilted and she gave you a look of pity. “With who? Don’t say Wilkinson.” 

“No, Udaku.” There goes the pity.

Her eyes make brief contact with yours. “Girl why the hell are you here then-” You don’t like that- her eyes might as well burn through the paper. 

“I wouldn’t be here or willing to pay the price of two hundred and fifty. If I didn't need your help.” You stand your ground firm just as your mother taught you. Too busy with your proclamation declaration you didn’t realize the two of you had stopped. 

“Can you please just knock on the door?” said Riri urgently. You dealt three firm knocks on the dark oak door. You looked up at the name tag on the door, Oh my God. You can not be serious. 

That Bitch couldn't have told you that she was Professor Udaku’s TA?

“Shuri! Can you open up the door please, these papers are heavy!” You did a double take and ran behind Riri. ‘Shuri’ opened up the door and you remembered why you didn't want to take up classes in the first place. You heard that crystal clear no Professor Udaku, not Professor Shuri, not even a miss Udaku. Oh no, these two have some history. 

“Thank you Riri, you can put them where you usually do.” Usually?!

“Shuri, I brought one of my clients. Can we stay for a bit?” Riri goes to her usual drop-off desk, you just happened to notice the Stay-. You undoubtedly have no input in her decision-making. This is why you go inside her office, Professor Udaku is still at her desk, she didn’t notice you as of yet. These papers were a blessing in disguise. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just like her door, most of the furniture is dark oak. The walls are a pretty indigo hue, a black fluffy circle rug. A black couch with two end tables. Two bookshelves opposite the couch that could be a good five foot eight. In the middle of her office is her desk, large, from what you could see; there are multiple picture frames, a lamp, Her of course, and her desktop. Oh, the window that stretches from floor to ceiling is also a nice touch. Awe you nearly squeal a poster with a panther hanging from a branch that says ‘You can do it’.

During your awe Riri walks over to Professor Udaku they're saying something. She tugs the professor over to her stack of papers pulling her from what you assume was marking. Riri proudly presents her handiwork to the professor. “Riri I don’t have time for this” she mutters while double-checking the papers. She then ushers her over to you, and she smirks, the professor is still not interested. 

“Shuri, meet my first client from your class” What the hell-  you and ‘Shuri’ shared a glance. “I just thought you’d like to meet her”. Shuri is astounded, her mouth quivering, she's clawing at you to say something. You open your mouth and nothing comes out. She pivots back to the copies, squares her face, ever so calculating-

“Riri you forgot ‘Introductory Xhosa’.“ Riri is flabbergasted, her arms are flailing and her speech is stuttering.

“Uh no I did not, check again.” The ‘check again’ comes out hastily. 

“Riri- just go look back on the printer for me.” Professor Udaku unclenches her teeth and grunts out a ‘please’. Riri mirrors her grunt with a ‘fine’, she stomps out and slams the door. You attempt to scurry out the door before

“No, you stay.” She looks for a place for you two to talk. You walk slowly and shamefully back to the area, and she guides you to the couch smoothly with her hand on your back. This crop top and the short pants duo were not working any favors for you.

 “Sit.”, you sat down, and she sat down. The room was hushed but the feeling wasn't tranquil. Professor Udaku crossed her legs and leaned her head against the couch, capturing your eye once again. Her face was despondent, her cool hand long gone from your back. The only thing you could hear other than your breath was the clock ticking, mocking you. ‘When would Riri be back?’. After too many ticks you decided to break the silence. 

“Professor-”

“No, outside of class you call me Shuri.”

“Shuri” You tested the waters, it sounded foreign on your tongue.” I already had plans of going to Riri”

“Now you lie to me too.” What did she mean by too? She crossed her legs. Her face is still despondent.

“I didn't lie.” 

“You’re still lying!?” It’s best you be quiet and let her speak, so you do that. “Why couldn’t you have told me that it wasn’t enough. Why did you wait for me to give you my number?” Your hands tugged at the hem of your shorts, your gaze cast downward. Shuri uncrossed her legs and stilled your hands with her own. Her grip was steady and reassuring, “I want to help you, I do, you just have to let me. Can you let me do my job?” 

You let out a breath, “I will.” She let out a broken chuckle and ‘thank you’.

The door slammed open, just in time. 

“Riri stop trying to break my door!” Shuri really didn’t like that, her grip turned distressing. Oh that's right you two were still holding hands, you shook your hands free of hers, Riri didn't even notice. 

“Why? you not my Umama!” Shuri rolled her eyes., “I see you found the Xhosa copies”. “No! I didn't- I told you to check again!” Riri was not backing down from this, Shuri relented and bowed her head “I’m sorry Riri.” 

“That’s more like it. You-” She’s pointing at you like she just remembered your mere existence. “If you want we can meet for three and I won’t charge you next time but after that, two fifty. Deal?” Riri’s stance is concrete.

“Deal.” you echoed. 

“wai-Wait how about you two have lessons here.” Is she serious? “I could buy some chairs and smaller desks and have them shipped by your second session.” She is serious. Riri considered for a bit, Shuri rocked on her heels waiting for her response. 

“Look, see you get two geniuses for the price of one.” If she only knew. Shuri couldn’t contain her excitement murmuring to herself that she'll place the order right now. You couldn’t feel any worse than how you did now.

An: Thank you if you read the fic. Yeah any constructive criticism is welcome. If you have any requests I have a box up (hope it works) and yeah thats it. :3

[fourfoldfires]

a crucial part of my wol florian's backstory & impetus for becoming an adventurer in the first place has always been his elder brother roselin's death. roselin (a scholasticate dropout, back-alley healer and apothecary's assistant) was arrested by the temple knights and witchdropped without trial after his shady mentor had been found to be dealing in heretical goods; florian's rage at the injustice of the system that lead to these events & guilt over not having been there to protect roselin are fundamental core aspects of his character. it's one of those fixed events in the timeline that i can barely imagine who he'd be without.

that said: sometimes i still like imagining fix-it AU sillytimes where roselin Survived Somehow & took up the adventuring life himself as a freelance healer. also he's smooching alchemist guildmaster severian.

[captainmullin]

when I finalize the Mullin/Rackam playlist, this is the very first one on there for SURE