"Talk to me, Goose"

Edward Nygma (The Riddler) -

(I did a mixture of multiple different Riddlers, but chose this gif)

It was a crisp Tuesday afternoon

And you were walking home from your college campus, headphone securely clamped over your ears, completely tuned into a fast-paced electronic track

In your hands was a thick, heavily highlighted textbook on cognitive science

Because you were deeply focused on your own thoughts-

What am I going to have for dinner?

Maybe this time I'll go to that new bookstore

Oh my goodness, look at that cute dog, I want to pet it-

You completely missed the screeching tires, the shattered glass, and the alarms blaring from the Gotham's Finest Jewelry Store

Suddenly, your headphone were yanked down

Before you could even process what was happening, a firm, green-gloved hand wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you against a sharp, impeccably tailored chest

"Don't move a muscle, my dear, or the GCPD will be cleaning up more than just property damage today!" A voice barked with theatrical flair

You blinked, looking over and up

The man holding you was wearing a vibrant, emerald-green suit adorned with black and purple questions marks, a matching bowler hat perched precisely on his head, and a purple domino mask

It was the Riddler

Specifically, a striking mix of a hyper-eccentric showman and a cold, intellectual elite

He looked like he could break into a maniacal, giggling dance at any moment

Yet his eyes behind the mask were sharp, calculating, and - dare you think it - nerdy

"Back off, you bumbling bluecoats!" The Riddler shouted at the advancing police officers, brandishing a gold, question-mark-headed cane, "If you so much as take one step forward, this lovely student's academic career comes to a permanent recess!"

Within minutes, you were shoved into the back of a getaway van surrounded by his masked goons

You were driven to an abandoned toy-manufacturing warehouse on the edge of the Bowery

Upon arriving at his sprawling, eccentric secret lair

Filled with oversized clockwork gears, green neon lights, glowing computer monitors, and broken porcelain doll heads

You felt a spike of genuine worry

Your mood flipped instantly from dazed and confused to aggressive agitation

"Look, green bean," You snapped, your eyes flashing angrily as you yanked your arm away from him, "I have a thirty-page due on the linguistic syntax of ancient dialects on next Friday! If you mess up my GPA because you want to play dress up and steal pretty jewelry, I will personally throw that cane into a woodchipper!"

The Riddler froze, his jaw dropping slightly

Never had he ever had a victim/hostage so... Alive

He adjusted his purple tie, looking thoroughly amused rather than threatened by your blunt honesty

He let out a high-pitched, theatrical chuckle, spinning his cane elegantly

"Ah, a woman of intellect and a fiery disposition! Fascinating!" He beamed, leaning over you, "Fret not, my sharp-tongued captive. Edward does not harm those who appreciate the pursuits of the mind. I merely required a temporary tactical shield. Once I finish coding my latest cryptographic algorithms and setting my glorious traps for that insufferable, winged rodent, I shall personally escort you back to your campus, safe and sound. Until then... Here, have this treasure, it would look ravishing on you."

No, you didn't put on the thousands of dollars stolen necklace, but it was very nice and shiny

As the first day bled into the second and then the third, you realized life in the lair wasn't actually that bad

Could be worse

Edward mostly left you to your own devices, and since you had your backpack, you simply claimed a velvet armchair near a neon-green sign and buried yourself in your studies

However, when the goons were away, and the silence came...

It was your enemy

You got bored easily when nobody was talking, and Edward, despite working frantically and obsessively on a massive labyrinth trap, was entirely too quiet

You closed your book with a loud thud and marched over to his desk

You just started talking, something about the N400 response

Edward's hands paused over his keyboard

He slowly turned his head, his eyes widening slightly

A massive grin grew on his face

Before you knew it, you were both going back and forth about physicals, sociology, and theology

"You really think my intellect s towering above the stratosphere, don't you?" He sneered playfully

"Well, statistically your IQ is higher than the average Gothamite, yes, but your ego definitely inflates the perception." You replied bluntly with a roll of your eyes

Edward blinked, utterly disarmed momentarily

People either feared him or lied to him

Your inability to lie and your blunt, unfiltered commentary were intoxicating to him

You even ended up helping him refine his riddles

You didn't want Batman to get physically hurt, but you found Edward's mind fascinating

True to his word, the next morning, five days after you had first been taken, after his project was complete, he had his driver drop you off right outside the university library

You stood on the sidewalk, holding your bag, looking over at the passenger side door

"You better pass that paper, my dear," He said, before tossing you something, and tipping his hat with a wink

The car drove off, leaving you with a strange, sudden wave of sadness

You had actually enjoyed his eccentric, high-energy company

You assumed you'd never see him again

Opening your hand, you found that he tossed you a pretty bracelet

You doubted that it was one of the pieces stolen

But it was pretty nonetheless

Six months passed

You went back to your lifestyle

Studying, gardening, coding, and playing on your keyboard

But you found yourself thinking about the man in the green suit

Then, lightning struck twice

You were visiting the Gotham Museum for a history project when the doors burst open

Turns out, you were unlucky

Wrong place, wrong time

Green smoke filled the room, and there he was, laughing maniacally, flanked by goons

Edward was in the middle of stealing a rare, ancient Babylonian puzzle box when his eyes swept across the crowd and locked onto you

Well, well, well! If it isn't my favorite consultant!" He cheered, completely abandoning his speech to the crowd of hostages

He marched right over, pulled you out of the main crowd, and beamed, "You're coming with me. The security in this place, a joke! But your thoughts? Irreplaceable!"

This time, entering the lair felt less like kidnapping and more like a weird homecoming

The slow burn truly began here

You spent the next year becoming a permanent fixture in his life

Because your unlimited way of showing affection was simply spending time with someone, you started actively hanging out at his warehouse even you weren't at school

The romantic feelings crept up on him like a complex cipher

Edward realized he was completely enamored by your chaotic mood swings

Very similar to him, one minute you would be happily helping him, and the next, you'd be biting his head off because he used the last of the coffee without telling you

"Nygma, if you don't tell me we are running out of coffee, then I'll never know we are almost out and I need to get more! If you do this again, I will code "Pop Goes The Weasel" on a permanent loop on your computer!"

Instead of getting angry or annoyed, Edward just watched you with a doting, lovesick look on his face

He loved that you weren't afraid of him

He loved that when you were in a good mood, you were excitedly ramble about a new theory you just researched

Your brown eyes shining

He began to realize that his obsession with riddles was being matched

And conquered

By his obsession with you

The confession happened on a quiet rainy evening in the new lair

Eds had just successfully evaded Batman without a single scratch

And he was on an absolute intellectual high

You were sitting on his workbench, your legs swinging, casually playing a melody on a small portable keyboard you had brought over

"Eds, you're pacing so fast you're going to wear the concrete down," You said honestly, not looking up from the keys, "It's distracting me from this chord progression."

He stopped dead in his tracks

He walked over to you, his movements losing their bravado, leaving only the vulnerable, hyper-intelligent nerd underneath

He wasn't The Riddler

He was just Edward

He took your hands, gently lifting them from the keyboard

"I have spent the last forty-eight hours constructing a query, "Eds said, his voice unusually soft, "A puzzle that has no counter-solution. A question where the answer is a mathematical, psychological, and emotional certainty."

You blinked, "Okay... What's the riddle?"

Eds swallowed hard, his cheeks almost pink

He speaks, and that riddle... The longer he continues the riddle, the more you realize-

"Love..." You speak, "The answer to the riddle is "love"."

"Yes, you wonderfully literal woman!" He burst out, "I am completely and utterly in love with you. It defies my usual parameters, but I cannot deny the data any longer."

You didn't hesitate

A massive smile broke across your face, your mood instantly soaring into the sunniest day

"Good. Because spending time with you is literally one of my favorite things to do. Edward, I am in love with you, too."

Edward let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for months, a brilliant, giddy smile breaking across his face as he pulled you into a joyful, spinning hug

Dating Eds is intense, thrilling, and very intellectual

He is huge on nicknames

"My Little Scholar," "My Paradox," and "Oh, My Brilliant, Beautiful Mind"

And more

You swear he comes up with a new one every day

The last one is usually what he says when he comes home from a heist and calls for you

Like, "Honey, I'm Home!"

Eds handles your mood swings with grace

He understands

Because he gets them, too

When you suddenly snap at him, his ego doesn't get bruised, nor his pride

He views your mood swings as complex weather patterns

If you try biting his head off, he'll simply slide a cup of tea your way or a new book that you were looking at

He has a whole closest of new books all for you

For mood swings, birthdays, or anniversaries

A typical evening involves you trying your hand at coding a new program for a video game

While Eds sits beside you

Or, you'll drag him outside into a hidden garden

Forcing him to use his green-gloved thumbs to help with some plants

Since you play the keyboard, Eds appreciates the music

He loves doing funny dances to whatever you play

Eds is a notorious over-thinker

So his gifts are incredibly detailed and thought out

For your anniversary, he won't just get you flowers

No

No

No

He builds you a hand-carved, locked puzzle box where the clues to open it are entirely based on the topics you've rambled about

Inside, you'll find a beautiful piece of custom jewelry or a rare, first-edition book you've been dying to read

The monitors are dimmed to a soft green glow

You are curled up on the plush velvet sofa in the corner of his workshop

Surrounded by three different library books on sociolofy

Edward is sitting at your feet, his head resting against your knees, allowing you to mindlessly play with his hair when you wish

"Eddie?" You say, breaking the silence

"Yes, my brilliant star?" He mutters

"I think the societal structures of Gotham are fundamentally flawed because the city lacks a centralized psychological support network for low-income areas, which statistically increases the crime rate you participate in."

Bobby -

Your story with Bobby didn’t start under the dazzling neon lights of a Seoul concert stage or during a demon attack

It started twenty-one years ago in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of Seoul, where your family had just relocated from overseas

You were an eight-year-old girl who didn't speak a word of Korean, sitting on the front steps of your new house, clutching a giant, pastel-purple plushie like a shield

Bobby, a chaotic and endlessly energetic neighborhood kid, literally crashed into your life

He had been tearing down the alleyway on a battered scooter, lost control, and wiped out right in front of your gate

Instead of crying, he scrambled up, dusted off his knees, and stared at you

Your eyes blinked behind your thick glasses in utter shock

Seeing your wide eyes and your tight grip on your plushie, Bobby grinned, showing off his signature snaggletooth smile

He reached into his pockets, pulled out a slightly squished strawberry Choco Pie, and thrust it toward you

"Hi! I’m Bobby! Don't cry, look, I have snacks!" He blurted out in English

You didn't cry

Instead, your bold, adventurous spirit sparked

You took the snack, split it in half, and handed the bigger piece back to him

From that afternoon on, you two were inseparable

You helped him navigate his wilder impulses, and he helped you find your footing in a brand-new country, translating the world for you until your Korean was just as fluent as his

As the years bled into adulthood, Bobby’s dream of music took off, culminating in managing Huntrix

But while Bobby was the creative mastermind, you became the skeleton that held it all together alongside him

You were his right hand, his manager, of his managing, and his absolute anchor

As a sturdy woman who favored comfortable clothing

Soft, oversized yellow sweaters, dark denim, and your trusty glasses

You were a grounding presence in the chaotic, flashy world of K-pop and demon hunting

You were the one who kept the Huntrix office stocked with the best teas and sweet foods

Bobby had a terrible habit of skipping meals when he was locked in managing the girls, so you’d casually slide into the room, drop a box of pastries or a bowl of fresh fruit on his desk, and glare at him through your glasses until he took a bite

Your quiet but deceptively adventurous nature showed in your hobbies

You brought your passion for exotic creatures right into the agency

In a corner of your office sat a meticulously terrarium-housed tarantula and a beautiful, docile corn snake

The girls were terrified at first, but Bobby thought it was the coolest thing ever

He’d lean over the glass, tapping it gently

"Hey, you're so cute, little spider," He’d laugh, "Do you think your spider likes music?"

Because you loved to sing and listen to music, evenings at the agency often involved just the two of you after everyone else had gone home

You’d curl up on the plush sofa, surrounded by the colorful plushies you collected (and that Bobby secretly bought for you), writing schedule outlines or drawing promotional concepts while he bounced ideas off you

The transition from childhood friends to something deeper was a slow, agonizing burn that took years to ignite

Because you had a poor self-esteem regarding your looks, often viewing yourself as "plain" compared to the glamorous idols and dancers Bobby was surrounded with, you locked your feelings away

You convinced yourself that being his indispensable right hand was more than enough

But Bobby didn't see an co-worker or a plain childhood friend

He saw a brilliant, fiercely loyal, and stunningly adventurous woman who wasn't afraid of the dark

The shift became undeniable during a solo trip you took to an isolated, heavily forested region overseas

You loved a good adventure, but you had underestimated a sudden storm and got stranded in a small cabin

Bobby, back in Seoul, found out and nearly lost his mind with worry

Despite his schedule, he called your phone every single hour

When you finally made it back to the headquarters, drenched but laughing about the "epic nature trek," Bobby practically tore the door off its hinges

He didn't care who was watching

He marched over, his usual laidback, playful demeanor entirely gone, replaced by a raw, intense desperation

He wrapped his arms around your rame, buried his face into the crook of your neck, and breathed in the familiar, comforting scent of your tea and soft sweater

"Don't do that to me again," He whispered, his voice cracking against your skin, "You're independent, I get it. You love an adventure. But my world doesn't function if you aren't in it, okay? It just doesn't."

Holding him back, feeling the frantic beat of his heart against your chest, your defenses crumbled

You realized his worry wasn't just friendly platonic affection

It was deep, consuming love

The actual confession happened on a stormy Friday night

You two were having one of your regular movie nights at your apartment

You were dressed in a baggy, pastel-pink hoodie and black sweatpants, a mug of warm chamomile tea in your hands

You had selected an old classic horror film, and the television screen was casting long, eerie shadows across the room

During a jump scare, you didn't flinch - you loved this stuff - but you did notice Bobby wasn't even looking at the screen

He was looking at you

Specifically, he was looking at the way the light caught your green eyes behind your glasses, and the soft, thoughtful smile on your lips

"What?" You asked, suddenly self-conscious, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt down a bit, "Do I have crumbs on my face?"

Bobby let out a soft sigh, turning completely on the couch to face you

He reached out, his warm, calloused fingers gently pushing your hood back, then sliding up to lightly touch the frame of your glasses

"Stop doing that," He said softly, "Stop talking like you're something ordinary. You do it all the time, and it drives me crazy."

You blinked, your heart hammering. "Bobby..."

"I’ve been in love with you since we were kids sharing Choco Pies on the steps, but I was too stupid to realize it until lately," He blurted out, his trademark grin flashing nervously before turning earnest, "You’re the most beautiful, bold, incredible woman I know. You take care of everyone else, but I want to be the one who takes care of you. I want to buy you a million more plushies, watch every terrible horror movie ever made, and hold your hand while you show me your weird snakes. I want to be your guy. Please let me be your guy."

You stared at him, your breath catching, before a brilliant, sunny laugh escaped your lips, tears pricking your eyes. "You dork," You whispered, leaning in. "You're already my guy."

He treats you like an absolute queen, making it his life's mission to completely obliterate any lingering insecurities you have about yourself

Knowing your love for nature and unique creatures, Bobby plans weekend getaways to secluded hiking trails

He’ll pack a massive backpack full of your favorite sweet snacks and a thermos of tea

He loves watching you get excited over a praying mantis on a leaf or a harmless wild snake, happily taking photos of you looking radiant in your outdoor gear in front of waterfalls

Evenings at home are incredibly cozy

Bobby loves soft textures just as much as you do

Your bed is a mountain of pink, purple, and yellow plushies that he keeps adding to

He loves to lay his head right on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair, listening to you softly sing along to the radio

Bobby is a terrible impulse buyer when it comes to you

If he sees a plushie, a vintage horror movie poster, or a cute snake-themed silver ring, he buys it instantly

His favorite thing to buy you, however, is high-end, incredibly soft loungewear that makes you feel comfortable and gorgeous simultaneously

You’re sitting at your desk, rubbing your eyes after a long day of budget balancing

Suddenly, two warm arms wrap around your waist from behind, and Bobby rests his chin right on your shoulder, his breath warm against your cheek

"You're working too hard, beautiful," He murmurs, kissing the side of your neck right below your short bob

"Someone has to keep your chaotic ass afloat, Bobby," You reply with a tired but sarcastic smirk, leaning back into his sturdy chest

Bobby just chuckles, tightening his grip on you, "Yeah, well... I'm never letting you go afloat without me. Come on, shut the computer down. I bought that new strawberry cake you like, and the snake needs to be fed. Let's go home."

~~~

Baldur's Gate 3;

Gale Dekarios (Gale Of Waterdeep) -

You did not fall from the sky, nor did you carry a parasite behind your green eyes

Your life was structured by the soothing, quiet scent of old vellum and ink in the lower levels of the High Hall library in Baldur’s Gate

You were comfortable, and entirely content with your quiet routine

Until a rare day off pulled you into the roaring chaos of the Lower City markets

You were wearing a comfortable, flowing skirt in deep plum, a soft-textured knitted shawl draped over your shoulders, and your glasses were perched on the bridge of your nose

You were carefully inspecting a local vendor’s collection of tarantulas in jars, your curiosity piqued, when a sudden surge in the crowd pushed someone directly into you

Books, satchels, and a stray piece of parchment went flying

You stumbled back, but a strong, velvet-clad arm caught you firmly by the waist

"Ah! Gods above, my sincerest, most deeply felt apologies!" A rich, melodious voice hurried out

You looked up to see a man with a neatly trimmed beard, an intricate purple robe that mirrored your favorite color, and eyes that instantly locked onto yours with a sudden, breathless stillness

Gale Dekarios had intended to merely apologize, but the moment he looked at you - truly looked at you - the brilliant wizard of Waterdeep completely lost his syntax

It was, beneath the layers of his usual eloquence, absolute love at first sight

"It's quite all right," You laughed, a light-hearted, grounded sound as you adjusted your glasses, "Though I’d be careful. You almost set loose a rather magnificent specimen of a huntsman spider."

Gale blinked, completely charmed, "A woman of letters and an admirer of arachnids? My name is Gale Dekarios, of Waterdeep. And I am entirely at your service."

"I know who you are, actually," You smiled, "I did a solo traveling trip to Waterdeep a few years back. Visited the Academy libraries. Your various essays, well, they were brilliant, if a bit verbose."

Gale’s jaw practically hit the cobblestones

His chest swelled, a brilliant smile breaking across his handsome face, "Verbose? Me? Well, perhaps a touch meticulously detailed. But you... You have been to my home? You read my work by choice? Madam, I insist- Nay, demand- That I escort you through the rest of this marketplace. And please, allow me to handle the coin for that fascinating creature you were just admiring. Consider it a small tribute to a fellow scholar."

That evening, after walking through the city and talking about everything from ancient history to the care of exotic pets, he introduced you to his camp at the Elfsong Tavern

You didn't have a tadpole, but your fierce loyalty, supportive nature, and quiet craving for a grand adventure made you the perfect companion

You joined their quest to stop the Absolute, as Gale's chosen partner in discovery

Before the romance truly bloomed, a deep, unbreakable foundation of friendship was laid

In a camp filled with high-strung vampires, fierce githyanki, and brooding hearts of shadow, you quickly became the "mother friend"

You were the one who always had a pocket full of dried fruits and sweet pastries bought from city bakers, ready to hand them out when someone looked exhausted

Evenings in the camp always found you and Gale together

While the others sharpened weapons, you and Gale would sit by the fire

He would read aloud from ancient tomes while you worked on your drawings of the creatures you encountered on the road

Your soft, laidback demeanor was a balm to his high-strung, anxious mind

He totally has ADHD

Gale loved your deceptive boldness

He was amazed that a librarian who loved soft plushies and a warm cup of tea would happily march into a dark cavern to inspect a giant cave-mantis with wide, curious eyes

"You possess a most marvelous duality, my dear," He’d note, watching you sketch a venomous snake

When the camp was quiet, you’d often hum or softly sing classic, comforting tunes from your memory

Melodies that sounded delightfully unique and ancient to Faerûn ears

Gale would stop whatever he was doing, closing his spellbook just to listen to the sweet resonance of your voice drifting through the tent

As the shadow of the Absolute grew darker, so did Gale's internal conflict

Gale, with his dramatic flair and underlying desire to prove his worth, was entirely prepared to detonate the Orb inside his chest

But he hadn't counted on you

One night, beneath a canopy of swallowed stars in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, he tried to gently bid you a premature farewell, explaining his "grand, tragic duty"

Your usual light-hearted, laidback nature vanished

You stood tall, your frame radiating a fierce, protective power

"Gale Dekarios, look at me," You commanded, stepping right into his personal space, your eyes flashing behind your glasses, "You think your only value to this world is as a bomb? You think Mystra’s approval is worth the spaces you leave empty here? You are kind, you are brilliant, and you are deeply loved by the people in this camp. By me. I did not leave my library and march across this land just to watch you blow yourself up. We will find another way. Do you understand me? I won't let you give up."

Gale stared at you, his heart hammering against the volatile magic in his chest

He saw the absolute, unyielding loyalty in your eyes

For the first time in his life, someone was telling him he was worth saving just for being him, not for his magic

It was in that exact moment of fierce defiance that his deep affection crystallized into an overwhelming, breathless love

He was in love, but he never knew how much that love could grow

The Absolute was defeated

The crown was cast away, the brain destroyed, and Baldur’s Gate was finally breathing a sigh of relief

Gale had survived, his orb stabilized, and he had taken up a position teaching at the high academy

You had returned to your beloved library, spending your day sorting through restored historical texts

One late afternoon, the heavy oak doors of your archive swung open

Gale marched in, wearing a brand-new tailored robe of deep violet and gold, his hair neatly tied back, looking every bit the dashing professor

"My dear!" He called out, his voice echoing in the quiet stacks, "My, my, you look ravishing this morn."

You jumped slightly, dropping a stack of ledgers.

"Gale?"

He caught your hands, his palms warm and slightly trembling

And kind of sweaty

He looked down at you, his eyes brimming with such intense adoration and relief that it made your stomach do backflips.

"I got the position," He breathed, a radiant smile taking over his features, "The headmaster officially signed the charter. I am to teach the next generation of magical theorists. And as I sat at that mahogany desk, looking out over the city, the only thought that occupied my mind- The only vision that made the achievement mean a single damn thing- Was you. Standing beside me. Because I love you. Gods, I am completely, irrevocably in love with you."

He froze, his cheeks flushing a brilliant crimson as he realized he’d just shouted his confession in a quiet library

"Ah- Forgive me! That was... Exceptionally loud for a library setting, and entirely lacking in the poetic nuance I had spent the last three days drafting in my head-"

You cut him off by pulling his collar down, lifting yourself slightly, and pressing your lips firmly against his

Gale gasped into the kiss before his arms wrapped securely around your hips, lifting you slightly against him as he kissed you back with a desperate, sweet fervor

When you finally pulled apart, you smiled, your thumb brushing his bearded cheek, "I think the nuance was perfect, Professor."

Dating/Courting Gale is an immersive experience full of grand romantic gestures mixed with incredibly sweet, simple domesticity

Because of your poor self-esteem regarding your appearance, Gale makes it his life's mission to dismantle those thoughts entirely

Gale is a man of words

Obviously

He's a yapper

If you look in the mirror and sigh or frown, Gale will immediately appear behind you

His large hands will rest on your hips, squeezing gently, "Look at you," He will whisper near your ear, "A vision of pure, bountiful beauty. You are built like a goddess of harvest and hearth, my dearest. Every inch of you is a masterpiece I intend to worship."

He helps you set up terrariums in his tower

He will use minor illusion spells to create miniature rainstorms or perfect tropical climates inside the enclosures for your tarantula and snake

He even talks to them using Speak with Animals, regularly reporting back to you

"Reginald the python informs me the temperature is acceptable, but he would highly prefer a mouse for his next meal, he is not fond of rabbit."

You both go on long, adventurous picnics in the countryside outside the city

You’ll wear practical clothes, and Gale will insist on carrying the heavy pack (filled with sweet tarts, imported teas, and soft blankets)

You’ll spend the day searching for rare flora and fauna, holding hands the entire time

Evenings are spent in his study

You’ll be curled up on a plush velvet sofa, wearing one of his oversized, softest linens, surrounded by your favorite plushies

Gale will sit at your feet, his head resting against your knee while you read your books or write

He loves the texture of your short bob and will mindlessly weave his fingers through it while he studies

Gale is an expert gift-giver

He tracks down rare classic horror folios from distant lands just for you

For your birthday, he uses his conjuration magic to create a custom, magically enchanted plushie of a giant spider made of the softest, pinkest velvet that warm-regulates to your body temperature

In public, he loves calling you "My Bright Star"

In the privacy of your bedroom, when he’s holding you close, it softens into "My love," or "My sweet"

Every single morning, without fail, Gale wakes up early to brew a pot of your favorite tea

He will bring it to the bed, wake you with soft kisses, and sit patiently while you shake off your deep sleep

If you’re out in the city and he senses your energy dipping or your social anxiety flaring up in a crowd, he’ll smoothly reach in and hand you a perfectly fresh raspberry tart

"You see, my dearest," Gale murmurs one rainy evening, pulling you tightly against his chest as you both listen to the storm outside, "Mystra may have given me the stars, but you gave me the earth. And I find the earth in your arms to be infinitely more beautiful."

~~~

Doctor Who;

The Tenth Doctor -

You were mid-way through a brilliant, liberating solo cruise across the Atlantic

A 29-year-old taking on the world completely on her own terms

It was freeing

It was a crisp evening, and you were walking the upper decks in a soft, oversized yellow cardigan that contrasted beautifully with your short brunette bob and green eyes

You were looking for a quiet corner to sip your tea when you stumbled across something that made absolutely zero geographic sense

A battered blue 1960s police box tucked behind the lifeboats

Before you could even adjust your glasses to make sure you weren't hallucinating, the ship juddered violently

Screams erupted from the lower promenade

Slipping into your inherent "mom friend" mode, you hurried toward the noise, only to find the luxury lounge entirely engulfed in webbing

In the center of the room was an absolute nightmare of an exotic creature

A giant, iridescent, extraterrestrial tarantula the size of a minivan, hissing aggressively with its vemon-dripping fangs and multiple eyes glowing green

And there, standing right in its line of fire, was a lanky man in a pinstriped suit and a long brown trench coat, frantically waving around a glowing blue sonic screwdriver

"Step back! Everyone just... Back away slowly! I’m trying to negotiate, but she's a bit cross!" The Doctor shouted, his messy hair defying gravity as he hopped from foot to foot

He was getting absolutely nowhere; the creature lunged, baring fangs

You didn't even think

You just stepped forward, your sturdy, your boldness shocked the strange man

"Hey! Stop waving that glowing thing at her, you’re only flashing her eyes!" You called out, your voice calm, steady, and utterly unfazed, "She's not hunting. Look at her- She’s terrified! She thinks she’s under attack!"

The Doctor paused, his jaw dropping as he looked from the giant alien spider to you. "You... You're brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! But, uh, she’s an Athrox-Goliath from the Obsidian Nebula, and she can liquefy a human in four seconds flat with her venom!"

"I don't care if she's from Mars," You replied coolly, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a soft, plush keychain you always carried, gently tossing it near the spider's front legs to distract her, "A tarantula is a tarantula. They like dark corners. If you shut up and let me guide her toward the cargo hold, she'll go willingly."

With a mixture of sheer awe and frantic energy, the Doctor watched you use your deep knowledge of arachnids to coax the giant beast down the corridor

By the time the creature was safely contained in a dark, humid storage room, the Doctor was practically vibrating with excitement

He shoved his sonic screwdriver into his pockets, ran a hand through his hair, and stared at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world

"I'm the Doctor," He breathed, a massive, brilliant grin breaking across his face. "And you are absolutely, completely fantastic."

"What kind of Doctor are you?"

"The Doctor kind."

"Uh-huh..."

It didn't take long for you to pack your bags and trade the cruise ship for a time machine

The Doctor was completely enchanted by your unique blend of traits

How you were quiet and laidback, yet possessed an unyielding thirst for adventure that matched his own

You became the ultimate anchor in the console room

While the Doctor sprinted around the controls like a madman, you would calmly sit on a seat, a mug of hot tea in hand, reading a classic horror novel or sketching the bizarre landscapes

The Doctor quickly learned about your love for the strange and misunderstood

He started taking you to planets specifically known for their exotic wildlife

You’d spend afternoons on the velvet-purple grass of Xylos, with you rambling excitedly about the neon snakes while the Doctor listened with absolute fascination, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he bounced on his heels

You kept him grounded

You were the one who remembered to stuff snacks (specifically sweet, sugary candy that has gone extinct) into your pockets before running away from space-pirates

More than once, you’d interrupt his grand speeches just to hand him a biscuit because you knew his blood sugar was dropping

"Doctor, breathe. Take a breath, look at me. Eat the scone, then save the galaxy. In that exact order."

He’d blink, take a massive bite, and mumble around the pastry, "Oh, right. Good point. Brilliant scone, by the way."

The slow burn between a 900-year-old Time Lord and a fiercely loyal 29-year-old human took shape in the quiet moments between the chaos

For all your independence and bravery, your poor self-esteem was something you kept hidden

But the Doctor was a man who noticed everything

The shift happened on a desolate, beautiful asteroid

You were leaning against the open door, looking out at a cosmic nebula swirling in shades of pink, purple, and yellow - your absolute favorite colors

You had taken off your glasses to wipe away the dust, feeling that sudden, heavy sting of self-doubt

You sighed, muttering under your breath about how out of place your sturdy, ordinary self looked against the backdrop of eternity

Suddenly, a long, warm brown coat was gently draped over your shoulders

The Doctor stepped up beside you

He didn't look at the nebula; he looked directly at you, his hazel eyes incredibly soft

"You know," He said, his voice dropping into that quiet, husky register that always made your stomach do flips, "I’ve seen the birth of galaxies. I’ve watched stars burn out and civilizations rise from the dust. But I don't think I’ve ever seen anything quite as breathtaking as the way your eyes light up when you find something beautiful."

You flushed, quickly putting your glasses back on. "Doctor, please. I'm just... Ordinary."

He stepped closer, his fingers gently brushing yours, a rare expression of utter gravity on his face, "Ordinary? You tamed a giant nebula-spider, you travel the cosmos alone without a single fear, and you trust me. There is absolutely nothing ordinary about you, my brilliant girl."

The confession didn't happen during a quiet sunset; it happened, in true Doctor fashion, right after a frantic escape from a flock of sentient, razor-toothed crystalline moths on an outer-rim moon

You had managed to herd them away using a flashlight and your knowledge of nocturnal insect patterns, running back into the TARDIS completely out of breath, your bobbed hair wildly disheveled

You threw yourself against the console, laughing and panting, your green eyes sparkling behind your lenses

"Did you see the wingspan on those things?! Unbelievable! Absolutely incredible!"

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks at the console

He stared at you

Covered in cosmic dust, totally unbothered by the danger, just pure, radiant sunshine

His binary vascular system hammered against his ribs

"I can't do it anymore," He blurted out, shaking his head.

You blinked, your laughter fading slightly. "Do what? Did I do soemthing wrong?"

"No! No, you didn't mess up anything, you never mess up!" He reached out, his long fingers carefully, deliberately taking your hands in his

His grip was warm and entirely steady, "I can't pretend that you're just my companion. I can't pretend that my hearts don't beat double-time every single time you smile at me, or when you hand me a cup of tea, or when you sing under your breath while you think I'm not listening. I am completely, terrifyingly in love with you. And I know I'm a madman in a box, and I know I'm a lot to handle..."

He couldn't even finish

You stared at him, your heart soaring so high it felt dangerous

"Doctor..." You whispered, a cheeky, sarcastic little smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the tears prickling your eyes, "You really took your time figuring that out, didn't you?"

He let out a breathless, relieved laugh, his forehead resting gently against yours, "Shut up and kiss me, then."

He loves your sturdy build; he is a man who loves to hold and be held, and he constantly pulls you into his side, burying his face in the crook of your neck where you smell like vanilla and sweet tea.

He calls you "My Clever Girl," "Sparks" (because of your bold spark of adventure), and occasionally "Darling"

You call him "Space Boy" when he’s being ridiculous, or just "My Doctor" when you’re being sweet

He is a remarkably tactile boyfriend once the boundary is crossed

He loves the soft textures of your sweaters, often running his hands up and down your arms

Because he knows your self-esteem can waver, he makes it a daily ritual to kiss your cheek, your jaw, and the tip of your nose, murmuring words of fierce affirmation.

"You are beautiful. Do you hear me? Mechanically, biologically, universally stunning."

He takes you to the Great Archives of Alexandria so you can read original accounts of ancient histories, or to 1950s London just so you can go to a classic horror movie marathon in a retro cinema

He’ll buy a massive tub of sweet popcorn, feeding it to you piece by piece in the dark while you both whisper critiques

He’ll take you to the whispering forests of Jahoo, where the trees literally sing

You’ll spend the day looking for exotic space-snakes, and he’ll even try his hand at sketching them with you, though his drawings are hilariously terrible compared to yours

The Doctor modifies your bedroom in the TARDIS to be the ultimate cozy sanctuary

It is filled with deep purples, soft pinks, and warm yellows

He secretly travels across the cosmos to find the softest materials in the universe, surprising you with a massive collection of alien plushies that look like multi-eyed cats and round, fluffy monsters

When you sing along to the TARDIS radio - whether it’s 70s rock or a soft melody - the Doctor will stop whatever he is doing

He’ll lean against the doorframe, a soft, incredibly tender smile on his face, occasionally joining in with a shockingly good, dramatic harmony just to make you laugh

On quiet nights, you’ll curl up together on the plush blankets in the console room

You’ll be wearing your glasses, writing in a journal or checking up on the small, terrarium-bound, orphan alien insects you’ve adopted along the way

The Doctor will rest his head in your lap, completely relaxed, letting you run your fingers through his messy brown hair while he talks quietly about the stars

You are sitting on the TARDIS floor, surrounded by a mountain of soft blankets, organizing your collection of space-plushies

The Doctor walks in, holding two steaming mugs of tea

He sets them down and drops to his knees in front of you, his suit jacket discarded, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows

"Alright, let's see. We have a five-legged cat-thing, a miniature woolly mammoth, and... Wait, what is this one?" He picked up a round, yellow, incredibly fluffy plushie with eight cartoonish eyes

"That’s a monkey-platypus. I found it at the market on Delta-Nine. It reminds me of you. It's soft."

The Doctor looked at the plushie, then up at you, his eyes intensely soft and focused, "You know, when I met you on that ship, I thought I was saving a vacationer. I had no idea I was actually meeting the person who would save me."

"Doctor... I didn't save you. I just moved a spider."

The Doctor reached out, his warm hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs wiping over your cheekbones, "Hey. Look at me. You saved me from the quiet, Sparks. You brought sunshine, and snacks, and music back into this old box. Look at you- You are magnificent, and you're mine, and I am never, ever letting you go."

Uma -

(I mostly based this off of Descendants 2/3 Uma, I have only seen the first movie, so I did my best despite that, I did some research! But, I also took creative liberties)

The dat the barrier between Auradon and the Isle of the Lost officially shattered was the day of absolute chaos

But for you, it was a day of infinite curiosity

While most Auradon kids were hesitant to approach the newly arrived VKs

You were practically vibrating with excitement

As the daughter of Gabriella

Context: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/CnPjhC2yuKk

Ariel's lifelong best friend

And part-mermaid yourself

Your entire life revolved around the sea

Naturally, the moment you spotted a certain pirate captain standing near the docks, looking fiercely defensive and deeply out of place, you knew you had to say hello

Uma stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her signature tail braids catching the sunlight

She wore her tattered leather pirate trench coat, heavy buckled boots, and an armor-like array of fishnet and leather accessories

She was entirely on guard

Waiting for some pristine Auradon to come give her a fake, overly manicured speech about how glad they are that both worlds can live in harmony

Instead, she got you

You practically skipped down the wooden plants of the dock

Your favorite oversized cardigan flowing behind you

Your hazel eyes wide with genuine awe and excitement

Your long brown hair was pinned up with a large claw lip that was in the shape of a seashell

The navy blue dyed tips catching the light and shimmering bright azure in the sun

"Hi! I'm Keiko!" You blurted out, your bright, somewhat childish energy immediately clashing with her icy demeanor

Before she could even say much of anything, your eyes locked onto her cool belt

"Oh my goodness! Is that an actual telescope? And that seashell pendant- Is that from a genuine abyssal conch? That is so cool!"

Uma blinked

She was completely thrown off her guard

She defensively put her hands on her hips, "Whoa, back up, sunshine. What are you, a walking encyclopedia? Lay off with the rapid-fire questions."

You didn't lose your smile for a single second

Instead, you began to fiddle with the silky pink ribbon choker you tied on for the day

"Sorry! I get really excited about ocean stuff! My mom and Auntie Ariel- She's not really my aunt, but anyway- She taught me everything about the sea, and your style is just... It's amazing. It looks like the ocean, so I love it."

Uma stared at you like you had sprouted a second head

She wasn't expecting compliments

Most people called her style rebellious or trashy

But you looked at her with such awe and delight

And you weren't lying, she could see that

"I'm Uma."

The friendship that followed was the definition of "sunshine meets grumpy bestie"

And it was a delightfully slow burn

At first, Uma had absolutely no idea how to interact with someone who didn't fear her, judge her, or try to politely patronize her

Her entire life had been about survival, her crew, and her mother's shadow

You, on the other tentacle, just wanted to be her friend and see her smile

You began seeking her out constantly

Inviting her to sit with you by the water

At first, she was incredibly reluctant

Often accompanied by Harry or Gil

Who would watch from a distance like an awkward third wheel

But your genuine, gentle nature eventually wore her down

You'd sit on the sandy shores, your flowy skirts gathered around your legs, sketching in your notebook or reading

When you would draw, you'd draw vibrant, detailed pictures of clams, anemones, and the various gadgets and gizmos you found fascinating

Uma would pretend to be bored, leaning back on her elbows, but ehr eyes would constantly track the movement of your colorful markers

"Why are you obsessed with clams, Kei?" She asked one afternoon

"Because they hold pearls and sometimes secrets!" You chirped, your vocal cords ringing with a joyful, melodic laugh, "They stay closed up, all safe and protected, and then they create such beautiful creations after years and years, forming imperfect little shining, shimmering splendids; it's fascinating! They kind of remind me of a certain pirate captain, you know."

Uma snorted, rolling her eyes, "Keep dreaming. I'm all sharks, no pearls."

The real turning point in your friendship happened when you finally invited her into your element

Uma knew you were part-mermaid, but she hadn't seen it in action until you dragged her down to a secluded cove

You kicked ff your shoes, let your hair down from its clip, and dove straight into the turquoise water

The moment the waves hit your skin, your legs shimmered and dissolved into a gorgeous, iridescent tail

Uma watched from the edge of a large rock, her jaw on the floor practically

For the first time, she looked mesmerized

"Come on in! The water is perfectly warm!"

Uma hesitated, looking at her heavy boots

For a girl who could transform and also swim really well

All things considering

She rarely swam just for fun

She sighed, kicked her boots off and her accessories, and dived in

You spent the afternoon swimming together

Her splashing you and you showing off your cool dolphin jumping trick

Over the course of a year, the lines between friends and something deeper began to blur

For Uma, the realization hit her like a tidal wave

She was used to people wanting something from her

Loyalty, power, fear

Something

But you just wanted her company

You noticed the little things, like how she would get stressed when events got too loud or lights were too bright

You'd quietly guide her out to a balcony or garden where the breeze could ground her

Your romantic heart, which had always fantasized about true love and fairy tales, was practically bursting

Every time Uma's rough, ring-clad hand would accidentally brush yours, a spark would shoot up your arm and your chest would feel warm and tingly

You started having these wildly chaotic, intrusive thoughts whenever she was close

What if I just grabbed her hand right now?

What if I braided a ribbon into her hair? I've got this sea-green ribbon that would be perfect!

What of I just leaned in and kissed her right now?

It took everything in you not to let those impulsive ideas win

The shift in her behavior became undeniable during a late-night hangout at your house

Your mom, Gabriella, had gone to bed, leaving you and Uma on the living room floor surrounded by your giant collection of fun beads

You were both making beaded jewelry

You dug around in your bead box and found a specific, glittering bead

"I think this matches your eyes perfectly." You said softly, your usual high-energy dropping into a sweet, tender tone

You leaned in close, your sea-breeze and tropical perfume filing the space between you, as you offered it out to her

Uma went still

She didn't pull away, nor did she reach out for the bead

Not right away

She was slow, but her eyes, usually so sharp and calculated. softened into a look of pure, unadulterated adoration as she started at your face

Her hands reached out, her cool silver rings brushing against your cheek as she gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear

"You're too good for this world, Kei," She murmured, her voice rough but gentle as she took the bead, "You're always trying to make everyone else smile. Who makes you smile?"

"You do," You muttered back instantly, your heart hammering against your ribs, "Every single time you're around me."

Uma's breath hitched, and for a second, you thought your intrusive romantic thoughts were finally manifesting

But, no, it wasn't the right time

Not yet

The connection... It was unspoken

You both knew it was there, but neither of you said anything

Not yet

The confession, though not needed, didn't happen in a ballroom or even a dramatic battle

It happened on a quiet, golden evening at the very edge of the docks

Where you first met

You had taken Uma out for an outdoor unofficial date

You had packed a picnic with fresh tropical fruits

You were sitting on a tartan blanket, wearing a beautiful, flowy white sun-dress that made you look like seafoam personified

Paired with your favorite cardigan to fight the breeze that you adored

You were happily humming a melody, slicing up fresh mango, when you noticed Uma wasn't eating

She was just watching you, the setting sun painting her teal hair in gold

"Uma? Is everything okay?" You asked, tilting your head, "So you not like mango? I could get something else!"

"Kei, shut up for a second," Uma said, though there was no heat to her words

She took the fruit from your hands and set it down, same with the knife

Taking both of your hands into hers

Her grip was firm, warm, and grounding

"I've spent my whole life thinking that love was a weakness. On the Isle, if you show a soft side, you get eaten alive. So when you showed up with your bright clothes, your intelligence, singing, and your ridiculous obsession with clams... I thought you were crazy."

You let out a tiny, nervous giggle, but kept listening intently, your eyes locking on hers

"But then I realized," Uma continued, her gaze unwavering, and yeah, you were swooning, "You're not crazy. You're just brave. You're braver than anyone I've ever met because you choose to be kind and joyful in a world that can be really ugly. And somewhere between you dragging me to the ocean to swim or secretly hiding different colored ribbons around my room... I completely fell for you. I don't know how to do the whole 'prince charming' thing, Kei. But if you'll have me, I'm yours. Completely."

Your jaw dropped, and a massive, brilliant smile broke across your face

The exact smile Uma loved most

You didn't even say a word at first

You threw your arms around her neck

"Yes! Oh my gosh, yes, Uma! I've been waiting for you to say something like that for forever it feels like! You cheered into her shoulder

Uma let out a laugh

A sound she only ever made for you

And wrapped her arms around you

Dating Uma was an adventure that perfectly balanced your need for high-energy romance with her protective, grounded nature

You brought out a softness in her that the world had never seen

And she provided a safe, steady harbor for your wild, childish spirit to dock on

Uma was incredibly physical once she committed

In public, she'd walk with her arm draped heavily over your shoulders

Pulling you into her side

Or holding your hand, you swinging them and giggling

In private, she loved playing with your hair if you let her

She would carefully unclip it, letting the locks fall over you, and lazily run her fingers through the strands while you rested your head on her lap

You'd go on long nature walks along the rocky shores

You would search for unique shells or rocks

And Uma would hold all of them if you ran out of room holding them yourself

If you ever slip or almost fall, she would be there to catch you, her hand on your waist, pulling you in close

"Careful, sunshine. I need my mermaid in one piece."

You convince her to go to karaoke with you

Lots and lots of duets

"Islands In The Stream" by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, "Fire And Rain" by Pink and James Taylor, or "The Water" by Johnny Flynn and Laura Marling

Uma would bring you treasures

She once gave you a perfectly preserved, vibrant blue conch shell

You filled her room with color

More than just black, silver, and blue

You bought her a custom leather jacket, too

Uma quickly developed a habit of stealing your clothing, especially your cardigan

She'd secretly wrap herself around it and breathe you in

You spend your evenings mostly at home on the couch

You would be half-asleep, your high-energy completely drained for the day, snuggled deeply into her side and a mountain of fun pillows and blankets

Uma would have one arm around you, holding a book, reading to you

Uma secretly took lessons from your mother to learn sign language to surprise you

~~~

Disney:

Jim Hawkins -

(From my research, (watching the movie again for the millionth time, I love it), I believe he is supposed to be around 15/16/17)

The R.L.S. Legacy was a massive, creaking galleon of wood with solar rigging, bustling with a crew of terrifying, multi-eyed aliens

To anyone else, being hired as a lowly deck mopper on a dangerous voyage would be a dreary fate

But to you, it was the ultimate playground

You wore a bright, flowy shirt, your favorite oversized cardigan, breathable pants, an your long hair tied up to keep away from your eyes

You happily sloshed soapy water across the deck, humming a joyful tune

That was when you saw him

He was standing by the railing, looking small against the vast expanse of space

Jim Hawkins was the picture of a restless, emotional teenager

His dark hair cut into a rebellious undercut, and solitary braid hanging down, his oversized jacket on

He looked lost

Carrying a heavy shroud of anger and hurt on his shoulders

You knew the feeling

As if feeling your gaze, Jim turned

His eyes met yours

Where anyone else might have looked away rom his defensive stare, your bright, naturally joyful personality took over

It's been so long since you've seen anyone around your age

You let go of the mop with one hand, gave him a huge, energetic wave, and flashed a brilliant smile

Jim blinked, utterly caught off guard

He stared at you for a second, his tough exterior faltering

Before his hand hesitantly twitched upward in an awkward wave back

Before he could say anything, Mr. Arrow barked an order, and Jim was swiftly ushered off to meet Captain Amelia

But that fleeting moment, that spark of warmth on a cold ship, stayed with him

During the meeting with the captain, his mind drifted to you...

It wasn't long before Jim was stripped of his grand ideas of adventure and treasure hunting and was handed a bucket and a brush by Long John Silver

Suddenly, he was right there beside you, scrubbing the deck while you mopped

At first, it was entirely silent

Jim was entirely irritated, fiercely scrubbing the wood as if trying to vent his frustrations at being treated like a child (as he was) rather than a real spacer

But your curiosity was a powerful force

Leaning on your mop, you boldly broke the ice

"Hey. You're from Montressor, aren't you?"

Jim paused, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve, looking slightly defensive up at you, "Yeah. How'd you know that?"

You shrugged sheepishly, a playful grin on your face, "I've been around, and I read a lot. I'm Keiko, by the way. What's your name?"

He looked at your bright eyes, the navy tips of your hair, and the cheerful way you held yourself despite doing the exact same miserable chore

"Jim. Jim Hawkins."

As the voyage went on, Jim became Silver's apprentice

Meaning your daytime chats were rare

But the night belonged to the tow of you

While the rest of the crew slept in the belly of the ship, you would stay up in the corner of the crew's quarters

You'd sit cross-legged in your favorite cardigan, happily sketching intricate clams, vibrant space-fauna, and ocean waves in your notebook, occasionally organizing your ribbon collection on your lap

Jim would sneak away from the gallery, quietly sliding down the wooden beam to sit beside you

He'd watch you sketch, utterly fascinated by your gentleness

You'd ramble excitedly about your mini-adventures around the smaller moons around Crescentia, your voice dropping into a soft, joyful song when you'd absentmindedly sing lines of old sea shanties you picked up over the years

In the quiet dark of the ship, Jim opened up to you like he never had, beside Long John

He told you about his father walking out, the burning of his mother's inn, and the crushing weight of wanting to prove he was worth something

You listened without judgement

Always offering words of affirmation that make his chest ache with a strange new warmth

By the time the Legacy reached Treasure Planet, everything had gone to hell

Mutiny had fractured the ship, and you found yourself fleeing into the jungle alongside Jim, captain Amelia, Dr. Delbert, and Morph

And meeting B.E.N.

Well, he was a talker

And you enjoyed talking to him when you weren't in peril

After finding a temporary hiding spot, the adrenaline was pouring through everyone

Jim didn't care about the treasure in that very moment

The second you stopped running, he threw his hands onto your shoulders, scanning your from head to toe, "Kei, look at me, are you okay? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine, Jim, really." You replied, your voice high, though you were breathing heavily

"You're not fine, you're bleeding." He muttered, his voice dropping into something tender

His rough, calloused hand reached up, his thumb gently brushing against your cheekbone, right under a tiny, superficial scratch you'd gotten from branches

The touch sent a massive jolt of electricity straight to your romantic heart

Jim was standing so incredibly close

His eyes searching yours with a raw, fierce protective instinct

Your brain went into overdrive

And you began to ramble at a mile a minute to hide how your heart was pounding

"Oh, this? It's totally fine. Honestly. Just a little scratch! I'm just so glad you're okay, Jim, and I honestly can't wait until this is all over and I can go back to Crescentia and everything can be normal again"

At the mention of you going back to Crescentia, Jim's face suddenly fell

He looked crestfallen, his thumb slipping from your face

You didn't know why he was acting like this so suddenly

"Yeah, right..." He nodded, agreeing

"Jim? Did I say something wrong?" You asked, your eyes wide

"No. Nothing's wrong, Kei," He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at you, "We just... We need to figure out how to move forward from here. Get to the treasure before Silver does."

You felt a heavy ache in your chest, realization dawning on you that your feeling for this stubborn, brave boy had grown far past simple friendship

The events that followed were a whirlwind of terror and heartbreak

You were captured by Silver's crew, used as a literal bargaining chip to force Jim to join Silver and open the portal to the treasure

You hated every second of it, and not out of fear for yourself, but because you could see the agonizing panic and fear in Jim's eyes when they threatened your life

When the planet began its self-destruction, turning into a ticking supernova of gold and magma, you were safely aboard the escaping ship, but Jim was left to trigger the portal

You squeezed the railing of the ship so hard your hands hurt, tears in your eyes as you prayed to whatever gods were listening for him to make it back safe

When his solar surfer finally breached the closing portal, exploding out of the light just in time, you let out a sob of pure relief

When the ship finally docked back at the bustling, majestic ports of Crescentia, the atmosphere was bittersweet

The pirates were being rounded up in chains

You stood back, adjusting the ribbon in your hair, and quietly watched as Jim secretly slicked off to help Long John escape

You didn't say a word to anyone

You understood the profound, surrogate-father bon Jim had formed, and your loyal heart respected it

Then came the moment you dreaded

The goodbye

The crew was dispersing

Jim was preparing to head back to his home planet of Montressor to see his mother and use the remaining treasure Silver left him to rebuild the Inn

You stood on the wooden dock, the flowy sleeves of your cardigan fluttering slightly in the wind, feeling lost once more

You didn't know where your next odd job would take you

Jim walked over, his boots hitting the dock

He looked older now, more confident somehow, but as he stood in front of you, the nervous teenager returned

He shuffled his foot against the ground, looking down before cracking a breathless grin

He rubbed the back of his neck, "So, uh... I guess this is it. You're staying here on Crescentia?" Jim asked, his voice cracking slightly as he let out a cough

"I suppose so," You said softly, trying to keep your bright demeanor up, and failing slightly, "Gotta find a new shop or ship to mop, right? Or maybe find a craft shop or library to clerk."

Jim swallowed hard, looking at your hair dancing in the breeze briefly, "Look, Kei... My mom is gonna rebuild the inn. With this, I hope she can. It's gonna be huge, and she's... Well, she'd gonna need help. A lot of help. And I was just thinking... Maybe... Do you want to come with me? To Montressor? I mean- She'd absolutely love you. I know it. I- I... Uh, yeah."

Your eyes lit up, and the most radiant, pure smile spread across your face, filling Jim with a profound sense of relief and joy, "Jim Hawkins, I would love nothing more."

Life on Montressor was a beautiful, agonizing sow burn

It was a classic will-they-won't-they scenario that drove his mother, Sarah, absolutely crazy with impatience

Jim was accepted into the Interstellar Military Academy as a cadet, meaning he wore a crisp, smart uniform with polished buttons that made you absolutely swoon every time he walked through the door

Man, you loved a man in uniform

You lived and worked at the newly rebuilt Benbow Inn, helping Sarah, singing songs either when cleaning tables and decorating the lobby or when entertaining the folks coming in for a meal or two

You and Jim were very affectionate

Yet completely oblivious to the depth of each other's romantic feelings

Despite being a romantic at heart, you didn't know Jim liked you in return

You always thought his affection was just how he was with the people he cared about

When he would return home, he would immediately find you after saying hello to his mother

You'd run up to him, your intrusive thoughts occasionally tempting you to repeatedly poke him in the face, or just run and jump on him, for some reason

But instead, you'd wrap your arms tightly around his neck

Jim would catch you, spinning you around, his face buried in your hair or neck that always smelled liked starlight and sea salt

You behaved like a couple in every way

Holding hands under the table

Sharing glances across the crowded room

Jim giving you playful nudges

Yet neither of you had dared to cross that line into an official confession

He calls you "Kei" or "blue"

You liked to tease him with your nicknames for him

"Jim-Jams" is your favorite

"Cadet" when you see him in that suit

Jim's favorite thing in the universe to do with you in taking you out on his modified solar surfer

Which he modified so he could safely hold onto you or you could hold onto him while he flew

He flies over the crystalline canyons of Montressor, laughing as you cheer into the wind, the ends of your hair glowing brilliantly in the sun

On his weekends off, he takes you to the alien coastlines

While Jim skims stones across the waves, you enthusiastically search for rare shells and clams

He’ll happily carry your heavy bag of specimens, watching with a soft, smitten smile as you jump up and down when you find. arealy cool rock

Jim is completely enchanted by your ribbon collection

On quiet evenings in the back of the inn, while you read your books, Jim will sit behind you on the floor

His large, scarred hands -usually meant for rigging and mechanics - become incredibly gentle as he unclips your hair, brushes it out, and carefully attempts to tie a neat bow with one of your favorite ribbons

He usually messes it up, leading to both of you giggling hysterically

He will let you braid his hair, if you can

If you ever tell anyone or show anyone the picture of Jim with his hair made up in tiny braids tied with your ribbons, he'll die

Long after the inn closes, you both sit on the kitchen counter, eating sweet peaches

You'll get an intrusive thought and suddenly snatch his peach and eat it, leading to a playful chase around the kitchen, ending with him trapping you against the pantry, both of you breathless and smiling so wide your cheeks hurt

The tension then is wild, but you both seem to snap out of it and awkwardly move on

The true confession didn't happen until Jim officially graduated from the Academy, securing a permanent position as a brilliant young officer

He arrived at the Inn unannounced, his chest adorned with medals, looking taller, more grounded than ever, and his hair a bit longer; enough that he could put it nto a little man-bun

You were in the middle of decorating the dining room, a bright yellow ribbon in your hair, when he walked in

Seeing him, your energetic nature took over

You dropped your decorations and practically threw yourself at him

"Jim! Oh my gosh, look at you! You're an actual officer! I knew you could do it, I always knew it!"

Jim caught you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, lifting you off your feet

As he set you down, he didn't let go

He kept his hands securely on your waist, his eyes looking down at you with such an intense, overwhelming wave of adoration

"I couldn't have done any of it without you, Kei," Jim said, his voice thick with emotion, "Every time I felt like giving up at the academy, I just thought about your smile. I thought about coming back to this inn. Coming back to you."

You blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Jim...?"

He let out a breathless, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while keeping the other firmly on your waist

"Look, I've been an idiot for the last two years. A complete coward. But I love you, Keiko. I’ve loved you since you waved at me on the deck of the Legacy when I was just a punk who didn't deserve it."

A tear of pure joy slipped down your cheek, and your signature, radiant smile broke across your face

You grabbed the lapels of his crisp military uniform and pulled him down into a deep, incredibly romantic kiss that you both had been waiting years for

Intrusive thoughts for the win

From that day on, nothing about your fun, chaotic dynamic changed

Cedric Diggory -

(I took some creative liberties!)

Before there was Hogwarts, there was the mud

Growing up in the same neighborhood, your family and the Diggorys were practically joined at the hip

Your earliest memory of Cedric is from when you were both six years old, standing in his backyard after a heavy rainstorm

You were already a self-proclaimed hoarder of oddities

Wearing an oversized, dirt-stained sweater and carrying a rusted old Muggle tin you'd found near the woods, filling it with strangely shaped rocks and feathers

Cedric, with his bright, open face and knees scraped from climbing trees, had walked right up to you, completely unfazed by your quiet, standoffish nature

"What's in the tin?" He had asked, tilting his head

"History." You had shot back with your usual childhood sarcasm, fully expecting him to walk away and label you as a six-year-old know-it-all

Instead, Cedric had smiled, that warm, unbothered grin that would eventually win over the entire school

"Cool. Let's find more together."

From that moment on, you were two peas in a pod

Your mini-adventures around town became legendary between your families

You'd drag him to old abandoned structures to photograph them with the clunky, defunct Muggle cameras you loved to collect

Or you'd sit on his bedroom floor for hours, forcing him to listen to you ramble about obscure creature research you did and dark folklore

You were the quiet, talkative storm in grunge flannel, heavy silver jewelry, and headphones permanently resting around your neck

He was the steady, gentle boy who listened to every single word like it was gospel

By the time you both reached Hogwarts, the transition was seamless

Everyone in your year assumed you were dating by your second year

Despite you both only being twelve

It was just this unspoken, comfortable thing

You shared scarves, held hands in the hallways, and cuddled by the fire

But as the months and eventually one year passed on, you both it a confusing patch

You mutually decided to date other people

Maybe this was just all the pressure from family, who said you were destined to marry once you were older

Maybe you both, being so young still, confused romance with perfect friendship...

You stared seeing someone else

And he eventually started dating Cho

There was no bitterness, no jealousy

When your relationship collapsed in fifth year, Cedric was the one who sat with you in the dark, letting you cry into his shoulder

And when Cho left him in the beginning of sixth, drowned in her own complicated grief, life, and growing feelings for Harry, you were the one who sat with him in your arms and listened to folklore inspired melodies

You thought you were fine being just his best friend

You thought your heart was safe

Then came the Triwizard Tournament

The moment Cedric's name spilled from the Goblet of Fire, a cold dread settled into your bones.

Yeah, he told you that he was putting his name in

He wanted to win for Hufflepuff

But nothing prepared you for the First Task

Sitting at the very edge of your seat in the roaring stadium, your knuckles white as you clutched the heavy camera hanging around your neck

Watching Cedric

Your Ced

The boy who used to help you look for shiny rock in the dirt

Face down a literal, fire-breathing dragon

Something fundamentally snapped inside of you

Your usual sarcastic, guarded exterior completely evaporated

The sheer, paralyzing fear of losing him made a truth bloom in your chest with agonizing clarity

You loved him

You had always loved him

The thought of a world without Cedric Diggory wasn't just sad

It was entirely unlivable

The moment he made it through the arena, covered in soot, and maybe some minor burns

Your tore down the stands

Completely ignoring the crowds beginning to gather

You burst into the medical tent, your hands shaking so violently your silver bracelets clattered together

"Ced..."

He looked up from his cot, his eyes softening instantly despite his exhaustion

"Hey, look at me. I'm okay. Just a couple scratches and bruises. I'm fine, I swear-"

You didn't let him finish

Under the immense pressure of the moment, the worlds you knew you shouldn't say in front of the medical staff died in your throat, replaced by a desperate, crushing hug

You buried your face into his neck, crying silently, your hands gripping the fabric of his yellow and black shirt like he was the only thing keeping you anchored to earth

You didn't know how to tell him yet

The weight of your realization felt too heavy for even you at the moment

Too terrifyingly fragile

And then the Second Task

You didn't remember anything bout that day

One moment you were walking down the corridors, and the next, you were waking up on the wooden docks of the Black Lake, hacking up freezing water, gasping for air

The winter wind bit into your skin, but before the cold could truly settle, you were pulled into a fierce, trembling embrace

Cedric was holding you so incredibly close to his chest that he felt like your own personal, living blanket

His body was shaking, his hair soaking wet, his lips pressing frantic, breathless kisses against the top of your head

"I've got you," he choked out, his voice thick with an emotion you had never heard from him before, "I've got you. You're safe."

The aftermath was a blur, but the true reckoning happened a few nights later

Because of your intense fear of public speaking and the overwhelming attention the task had brought you, you were hiding out in your empty dormitory, unable to face the Great Hall or any of your friends

Ced sneaked in, completely disregarding the rules

The tournament had changed him

The boy who always wanted to do the right thing had found his limit

You were both lying side by side on your bed, staring up at the canopy

The silence between you was heavy, thick with encroaching darkness

The future felt terrifyingly uncertain

Your hand was tucked into Cedric's, your fingers tightly interwoven

"What if things get worse, Ced?" You muttered, "What if the maze... What if something happens to you?"

Cedric didn't hesitate

He always knew what to say

He turned onto his side, his eyes piercing through the dim light of the room, shooting down your "what ifs"

"Nothing is going to happen to me. Because I spoke to Dumbledore. I told him I'm not entering that maze. I don't care about the contract or any repercussions. I don't car about the glory. Having you down in that lake... Realizing that my participation put the one person I cannot live without in danger? It made me realize what actually matters. A trophy means nothing if you aren't there to see it."

Your heart hammered against your ribs

Your breath hitched, and you turned onto your side to face him

The proximity making your chest ache

The words finally broke free

"Cedric... I love you."

He blinked, a soft, familiar warmth entering his eyes, "I love you, too. You know that-"

"No, let me finish," You interrupted, your vice cracking as the backs of your eyes burned with unshed tears, "You don't understand how much I mean it. I love you, Cedric. I think about you every single second of the day. You are my very first thought when I wake up in the morning. I love the way you hold me, I love the way you protect me, and gods... I think about kissing you all the time. I am so incredibly grateful for you, and so honored to have been by your side to watch you become the amazing person you are today. I needed to tell you now. Before it's too late. Because with everything happening. With... With Him back... If something happened to you or to me, and you never knew, and you had to find out from my dad- Who literally knows I've been hopelessly in love with you the entire time- I would never forgive myself."

By the end of your ramble, you were sniffling

You looked at him, expecting him to have the perfect, charming response he always seemed to have for everything

Instead, Cedric was shockingly quiet

His face was entirely flushed, a deep, beautiful pink blooming across his cheeks and ears

He looked utterly flustered, his chest heaving as he stared at you in absolute awe

Then, a wet, emotional chuckle escaped his lips, his own eyes brimming with tears

He reached up, his large, warm thumbs gently wiping the tears from your wet cheeks

"I have loved you since the day you moved in next door. Since I was six years old and you told me your tin of dirt and rocks were 'history.' And really, also when you offered your ice cream cone to me when I dropped mine. When you started dating someone else, it nearly killed me, but I forced myself to push it down because I wanted you to be happy. With Cho, I thought... I thought I could move on. But it was always you. It's always been you through everything."

You both dissolved into a messy, emotional hug, crying tears of pure relief into each other's shoulders

The weight of the world outside your window didn't disappear, but inside the circle of his arms, the darkness couldn't touch you

Cedric pulled back just a fraction, his hands framing your face, his gaze dropping to your lips before looking back up into your green eyes

"Can I please kiss you now?" He whispered, his voice trembling with a sweet, fierce devotion

"Yes," You sobbed out, a laugh breaking through your tears, "Please."

When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't the tentative kiss of two teenagers playing at romance

It tasted like home, like rainy days and old cameras, and a promise that no matter what terrors the future held, you would face them as one

The unsaid boundary was completely gone, replaced by an overflowing abundance of affection that made everyone in the Hufflepuff common room look away out of sheer, swoon-worthy sweetness.

Seeing Cedric - the ultimate golden-boy athlete - walking around the grounds with his arm securely wrapped around your shoulders was a sight the school never got tired of

He absolutely loved your style

He would often tease you about the sheer amount of jewelry you wore, but he would also spend fifteen minutes helping you untangle your favorite necklaces without a single complaint

Dates often consisted of heading into Hogsmeade, but instead of the usual tea shop, Cedric would happily spend hours trailing behind you in old, dusty junk shops, helping you hunt for antiques, old books, or unique trinkets to add to your dragon horde

He’d carry the bags for you, completely invested in your excitement

Because of your fear of large crowds and public speaking, Cedric became incredibly protective of your peace

If he noticed your headphones were pressed tightly to your ears and your jaw was clenched, he would immediately steer you away from the victory parties, guiding you back to a quiet corner of the library where you could solve puzzles together in complete, comforting silence

Cedric was a sentimental giver

For your first official anniversary, he presented you with a beautifully restored, antique Muggle camera he had spent months tracking down through owl-order, along with a custom-made silver necklace

Back home during the holidays, domesticity came naturally

You’d spend rainy evenings in his living room, curled up so tightly against his side that there was no space between you

He’d hold a book of mythology up for you to read together, his chin resting comfortably on your shoulder

While you read, your hands would compulsively fiddle with his fingers, tracing the lines of his palms

A soothing stim that he always welcomed by squeezing your hand in return

Your hoarding tendencies meant his bedroom slowly became overrun with your things

Stacks of old books, true crime clippings, and various bracelets you’d left behind

Cedric never minded

In fact, his father, would often joke that the house looked like an antique shop, but Cedric would just smile, pulling you closer

"I like it," He’d say, kissing your forehead, "It means you're everywhere."

No matter what dark rumors filtered through the Daily Prophet, or how terrifying the shadow of the Dark Lord became, you had each other

You spent nights whispering about the future, about a small cottage away from the city where you could write your stories and research animals, and he could teach flying or work with the Ministry, completely safe

You knew the road ahead would be treacherous, but holding his hand in the dark, you knew with absolute certainty that you were his, he was yours, and nothing in this world could ever break that

~~~

Stranger Things;

Nancy Wheeler -

You met Nancy Wheeler at Family Video where you worked, surrounded by the smell of plastic VHS cases and the faint tracking noise of a static TV screen

You were sitting on a counter, wearing an oversized, frayed flannel shirt, dark cargo pants, and a stack of woven bracelets that clicked against your Polaroid camera

Your headphones were resting around your neck, a quiet wall of sound shielding you from your slight social anxiety

Boy did you love Thursdays, there was only one other customer that ever came in so most of the day was pretty chill

Robin Buckley practically dragged Nancy in by her arm

Nancy was pristine

Wearing a structured, pastel pink button-down tucked into a plaid skirt, her curly hair perfectly coiffed

She looked every bit the aspiring, hyper-focused journalist

"Nancy, this is the resident know-it-all I was telling you about," Robin announced, waving a hand at you. "They know literally everything about everything. Ask them about the history of the Hawkins lab land. Go on."

You didn't even look up from the Rubik's cube you were solving

"It was originally built on a 1930s government-subsidized agricultural testing site that faced three separate lawsuits for soil toxicity. But sure, I'm just a know-it-all, Robin."

Nancy’s eyes narrowed, but not with annoyance - with sharp, investigative interest

She pulled out her yellow legal notepad, "Wait. What kind of lawsuits? Do you have names?"

You paused, looking at her, and felt your heart do a violent flip

You had always had a massive crush on Nancy from afar, but seeing her laser-focus up close was terrifyingly attractive

Under the pressure of her intense gaze, your filter slipped completely, "Uh, yeah. I have the copied records hoarded in my bedroom because I’m a borderline societal menace. Nice hair, by the way."

Nancy blinked, totally caught off guard by your bluntness, before a small, amused smile broke across her face, "Show me the records, and I’ll overlook the menace part."

The friendship that followed was built on intellectual fire

Because you loved history, mythology, and animal research, and Nancy loved uncovering the truth, you became an elite research duo

While Robin and Steve were messing around up front, you and Nancy would sit on the floor of the video store’s back room, surrounded by old newspaper clippings and true crime books

You were generally quiet around large groups, but once you and Nancy were alone, you would ramble endlessly about the folklore of the woods or strange animal behavioral anomalies

She loved the way your brain worked

You both treated life like a giant puzzle

You would buy old, missing-piece jigsaw puzzles from garage sales, and Nancy would help you solve them while listening to the eerie, folk-whimsical melodies of Yaelokre playing softly from your tape player

Nancy quickly picked up on your hatred of public speaking

During group meetings with the Wheelers or the Byers when everyone was yelling, you would start to shut down

Nancy would subtly step in front of you, taking the floor and letting you whisper your historical insights directly to her so she could deliver them to the group

For a long time, you kept your feelings locked away

Nancy was with Jonathan, and their bond felt unbreakable

But then, the shift happened

When word got out that Nancy and Jonathan had officially broken up, you were shocked

You expected her to retreat, to grieve the years-long relationship

Instead, Nancy suddenly seemed to be everywhere in your life

When the group went out to the quarry or sat around the picnic tables, Nancy didn't sit next to Steve or Robin

She stood right next to you, her shoulder brushing against your flannel shirt

Your rotary phone would ring at 11:30 PM

You’d pick it up, your bedroom dark, filled with your collections of old cameras and vintage trinkets.

"Hey," Nancy’s voice would come through the line, soft and a little tired, "I found a piece of weird history about the 1920s missing persons cases in Roane County. Are you awake?"

"Always," You’d whisper, twisting a silver ring around your finger, "Tell me about it."

You convinced yourself you were just a distraction

A safe, platitude-free zone for her to process her breakup

You thought she just needed support

You didn't dare hope it was something more

The confession didn't happen in the middle of a monster fight

It happened in your bedroom, which was a grunge, maximalist haven of old books, animal bones, vintage cameras, and stacked cassettes

Nancy was helping you organize your latest haul of antique keys and old local road maps

You were stressed about an upcoming presentation you had to give for a local historical society - public speaking was your kryptonite

"I'm going to ruin it," You muttered, your filter completely failing under the anxiety, "I’m going to stand up there, say something incredibly sarcastic that offends someone, throw up, and then move to Oregon to live with badgers."

Nancy stopped sorting the keys

She reached out and firmly took both of your hands

"You are not going to Oregon," Nancy said, her voice steady, "And you are not going to fail. You are the most brilliant writer and researcher I have ever met. When you talk about the things you love, the whole room stops to listen. I know I do."

You swallowed hard, the pressure making you blurt out the absolute worst thing possible: "Nancy, please don't look at me like that. It makes it really hard to pretend I haven't been desperately in love with you for two years while you were dating a guy who actually knows how to develop film properly."

The room went dead silent

You instantly froze, horrified at your own tongue

Nancy’s jaw dropped slightly

She looked at your silver earrings, then down at your intertwined hands

"You... You think I’ve been calling you every night at midnight to talk about local infrastructure?" She let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, "I’ve been trying to get you to look at me for months. Jonathan and I ended because my heart wasn't in it anymore. It was here. In this messy, ridiculous room. With you."

Falling into a relationship with Nancy Wheeler felt like finding the final piece of a puzzle you'd been working on your whole life

The dynamic didn't lose its sharp, witty edge, but it gained a deep, protective warmth

Dates with Nancy are structured but adventurous

She loves taking you to abandoned places or old estate sales

She’ll watch with a soft, affectionate smile as you scavenge for old cameras or weird historical artifacts, completely unbothered by your "hoarding" tendencies

In fact, she’ll help you carry the boxes

You’ll lay on her bedroom floor, the radio playing low indie-folk music, sharing a notebook as you try to solve cold cases from old newspaper archives

Nancy is an incredibly intentional gift-giver

For your anniversary, she tracks down a rare, vintage 1960s camera that you had mentioned once in passing months ago

Attached to it is a little note in her neat cursive

You get her custom-made leather covers for her journalism notebooks

Nancy isn't overly mushy in public, but in private, she is incredibly attentive

If you’re having a bad sensory day, she will gently take your headphones, place them over your ears, and then sit next to you, resting her head on your shoulder reading while you listen to your favorite Yaelokre tracks

A staple of your evenings together is you taking candid photos of her

She’ll be sitting at her desk, typing furiously on her typewriter, a pencil tucked behind her ear

The camera shutter will click, and she’ll look up, scowling playfully through her curls

"Did you just waste film on me again?"

"It’s never a waste of film, Wheeler."

~~~

Spiderverse;

Gwen Stacy (Ghost-Spider/Spider-Gwen) -

You didn't meet Gwen Stacy in a pristine tech lab or during an orderly briefing at the Spider-Society

You met her in Hobie Brown’s turf

You were sitting on an overturned, spray-painted milk crate in Hobie’s loft, your vintage 1970s Canon film camera hanging around your neck

You wore an oversized, frayed flannel shirt, heavily distressed denim covered in patches, a stack of chunky beaded bracelets, and your headphones resting securely around your neck

You were carefully putting together a 500-piece puzzle

Hobie kicked the door open, his spiky silhouette framing a girl with a sleek black-and-white spider suit, and a slightly defensive posture

"Oi, look what the cat dragged in," Hobie drawled, gesturing toward Gwen with his guitar neck, "Gwenny, watch your step, they collect junk and talk your ear off about ancient curses if you let 'em."

Gwen crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly

The friendship built itself on a slow-burning rhythm, heavily soundtracked by the kind of eerie, whimsical folk-core music you loved

Gwen introduced you to her rock, but you introduced her to the layered, theatrical, woodland-gothic melodies of Yaelokre

You’d sit on the roof of her version of New York, splitting a headphone cord. You’d keep one ear cup on, she’d take the other, listening to dark, rhythmic folklore songs while the neon lights of the city buzzed below

Gwen became your accomplice in dimension-hopping theft

You were a self-proclaimed hoarder of history, and Gwen would willingly help you sneak old, abandoned items past the Spider-Society sensors

Together, you stole a broken 19th-century typewriter from an apocalyptic reality and three jars of extinct, preserved deep-sea lizards

You were generally quiet in large group meetings

Especially since Miguel’s intense briefings triggered your massive fear of public speaking

But the moment you and Gwen were alone, you would talk constantly

You’d ramble about the behavioral patterns of corvids or the true-crime breakdown of an unsolved murder from 1888

Gwen would just lean her chin on her hands, drumming her fingers to the beat of whatever song was playing, completely captivated by your voice

The shift into romantic territory was subtle, like a melody slowly gaining bass

It happened during a high-stakes mission in a crumbling neon dimension

You, Gwen, and Hobie were backed into a corner by an unstable glitch-anomaly

The pressure was suffocating

Your heart was pounding, and your filters completely disintegrated under the stress

As the anomaly roared, you blurted out to Gwen, "If we disintegrate here, I just want you to know that your drum solos are occasionally off-beat wen you don't have enough water to drink, and I’m completely, painfully in love with you!"

Hobie burst out laughing, swinging from a pipe, "Told you they say the wrong thing under pressure, Gwenny!"

Gwen’s jaw dropped, her cheeks flushing a deep, brilliant pink beneath her mask

She nearly missed her next web-line, "You- What?! My solos are fine!" She yelled back, though her heart was suddenly beating entirely for a different reason

For weeks after that mission, the air between you was thick with tension

You tried to play it off with your usual biting sarcasm, but Gwen noticed

She started standing closer to you, her shoulder brushing yours, her eyes lingering on your lips whenever you rambled

The actual confession didn't happen in the middle of a battle

It happened in your home dimension, in your bedroom

Which was a beautifully chaotic archive of grunge fashion, ancient history books, skulls, vintage cameras, and boxes of unsorted trinkets

You were sitting on the floor, trying to fix the shutter on your favorite vintage camera

Gwen was lying across your unmade bed, her converse-clad feet dangling over the edge, twirling a drumstick between her fingers

"Hey," Gwen said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "Why do you always take pictures of me when I’m not looking? I checked your darkroom. It’s like... Fifty percent gargoyles, forty percent weird animals, and ten percent just me looking stupid while eating a bagel."

You froze, your fingers catching on the camera lens

Your defensive, sarcastic shell immediately wanted to snap something witty, but the look in her eyes stopped you

"Because," You muttered, looking down at the gears. "The gargoyles are historical. The animals are fascinating. And you... I didn't mean to confess my feelings for you during that fight with that anomaly... I mean, I did but... I just need to stop talking..."

Gwen slid off the bed, dropping to her knees right in front of you

Her fingers, calloused from the drums and the web-shooters, gently reached out and pulled your headphones down around your neck so she had your full attention

"I'm glad you did. I confess that I was surprised. But... Well... I feel the same."

She leaned in, closing the distance, kissing you softly while the smell of old paper, grunge leather, and your cheap thrift-store swirled around her

Your grunge aesthetic completely bleeds into her wardrobe

She starts borrowing your oversized flannels, wearing them over her spider-suit when she’s off-duty

You start wearing a pink-and-turquoise enamel spider pin on your camera strap

You go dimension-hopping specifically to visit abandoned, historical ruins

You’ll climb to the top of ancient, overgrown temples in lost worlds

You’ll take photos of the architecture while Gwen does acrobatics off the stone pillars, showing off just for you

Evenings are spent on your floor

You’ll lay out a massive, complex puzzle while listening to a 10-part true crime podcast

Gwen will lie with her head in your lap, tracing the silver rings on your fingers, occasionally popping a puzzle piece into place when you get stuck

Gwen picked up a rusted, unidentifiable piece of petrified wood from your desk, "Okay, what is this? If you tell me it’s a piece of Noah’s Ark, I’m throwing it out the window."

You don't look up from your typewriter, "Put it down, Stacy, your drum hands are clumsy."

Gwen stepped closer and wrapped her arms around your neck from behind, "Oh, really? My hands are clumsy? They seem to hold onto you pretty well."

~~~

Platonic;

~~~

Harry Potter;

Blaise Zabini -

It was the middle of fifth year, tucked deep into the Hogwarts library

Despite in your house robes, you kept to your grunge-y aesthetic, staying true to yourself and your interests

Now, you weren't in the library studying, you were paying with a metal puzzle box you were trying to solve

Blaise Zabini leaned against the adjacent bookshelf, his Slytherin robes impeccably tailored, his arms crossed with an air of relaxed boredom

He’d been watching you fail to solve it for ten minutes

"If you turn the top dial counter-clockwise, the mechanism unlocks," Blaise said, his voice a smooth, low drawl, "Though, given your... Eclectic aesthetic, I assumed you preferred things broken."

You didn't look up, instead sliding your headphones down around your neck with a clatter of your earrings

"And I assumed a Slytherin would know the difference between 'broken' and 'unsolved.' It’s a 19th-century puzzle box, Zabini. If I turn it counter-clockwise under pressure, the internal gears strip." You finally glared at him, your sarcastic tone fully activated. "But thanks for the unsolicited, inaccurate advice. Real know-it-all behavior."

Blaise didn't get defensive; instead, a slow, genuine smirk spread across his face

He respected people who didn't shrink away from his judgment

"Fascinating," He murmured, pulling out a chair across from you without asking, "Show me how it works then."

The friendship solidified despite a major social hurdle: you were openly dating a Hufflepuff

In the rigid hierarchy of Hogwarts, a Slytherin elite hanging out with someone tied to the "badger house" was unusual

But Blaise didn't care about traditional house politics; he cared about who bored him and who didn't

You definitely didn't bore him

You were generally quiet around large crowds, but once the two of you were alone, you would talk a mile a minute about ancient mythology, true crime mysteries of the wizarding world, or your latest fiction writing project

You quickly realized that beneath his cold, aristocratic exterior, Blaise was remarkably chill

He shared your cynical, observant nature

You’d sit together in the courtyard, you wearing your headphones and listening to eerie, atmospheric folk melodies while Blaise people-watched or read a book

You both possessed a sharp, witty defense mechanism

When Pansy Parkinson would walk past making a snide comment, you and Blaise would trade a single, perfectly synchronized look of exhaustion

Blaise learned early on that you had a massive fear of public speaking

When a Professor called on you in History of Magic to read your essay aloud, you froze, your throat tightening under pressure

Before you could blurt out something defensive or disastrous, Blaise smoothly interrupted, asking the professor a highly complex, completely irrelevant question about goblin silver that derailed the entire lesson

He didn't make a big deal out of it after class; he just walked beside you, hands in his pockets, waiting for your heart rate to slow down

Because you are a self-proclaimed hoarder and collector of old items, Blaise became your official partner-in-crime for antiquing

While other students were at Honeydukes, you and Blaise could be found in the darkest corners of Dervish and Banges

You brought your old muggle cameras everywhere, snapping candid, grainy photos of the castle

Blaise, despite pretending to be too cool for photos, secretly loved being your subject

He’d strike an exaggerated, high-fashion pose in front of a gargoyle, making you laugh

Evenings were spent in a abandoned classroom you’d practically converted into a hoarders' sanctuary

There were stacks of old parchment, mythology books, animal bones you’d researched and collected, and records

You’d light candles, and you would read your latest dark fantasy or historical fiction drafts to him

Blaise was an excellent critic; brutally honest but fiercely protective of your talent

Blaise’s relationship with Cedric was hilarious

He would constantly roast him for being "too bright" or "disgustingly wholesome," but if anyone else dared to disrespect your relationship, Blaise would shut them down with a single icy glare

He’d tell Ced, "If you break their heart, I won't hesitate to use a hex I learned from my mother's third husband. And she has excellent taste in untraceable curses."

~~~

Stranger Things;

Robin Buckley -

You and Robin didn't meet over something cool or dramatic; you met because both of your personalities got you landed in after-school detention

You had let your sarcastic, "know-it-all" attitude slip under pressure to a particularly sensitive substitute history teacher, and Robin had spent twenty minutes arguing about the deeply flawed, Eurocentric curriculum of the textbook

When you both walked into the empty classroom, you were wearing an oversized, frayed flannel shirt over a faded grunge band tee, a heavy Polaroid camera slung across your chest, and your trusted headphones draped securely around your neck

You sat in the back row, instantly taking out an old brass pocket watch to fiddle with

Robin slouched into the desk right next to yours, her classic mismatched layers and converse practically vibrating with nervous, chaotic energy

"So," Robin blurted out after exactly four minutes of silence, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the faux-wood desk, "What are you in for? Did you also insult Mr. Harrison, or are you just a rebel hiding behind a very impressive collection of silver bracelets?"

You didn't even look up from your watch, your voice dripping with easy sarcasm, "I told him his timeline on the Bronze Age collapse was a historical travesty, and that he should probably read a book that wasn't published during the Eisenhower administration. He didn't appreciate the feedback."

Robin’s eyes went completely wide

She sat up straight, a massive grin breaking across her face. "Holy crap. I’ve seen you around. You’re the quiet one who hoards all the old film canisters in the darkroom! Oh my god, we are going to be best friends. Do you know how hard it is to find someone in Hawkins who even knows what the Bronze Age is?"

Once Robin Buckley decided you were her person, there was no turning back

Your dynamic became a beautifully chaotic symphony

Robin is a fast-talking, hyperactive overthinker, and while you are generally quiet around the rest of Hawkins, the moment you are alone with her, your inner "rambler" is unleashed

You two can talk for four hours straight without breaking

You will sit on the floor of her bedroom surrounded by your collection of old keys, weird antique bottles, and mythology books while she paces the floor

You’ll be deeply analyzing a specific, obscure true crime case from the 1920s or diving deep into the cryptic lore of music styles, and Robin will weave in and out of your sentences with her own fast-paced commentary

Because you have a tendency to say exactly the wrong thing when you're under pressure or stressed, Robin is the ultimate safe space

If you blurt out something completely unhinged because you're flustered, Robin just snorts, points a finger at you, and says, "Hey, at least it wasn't the time I told my entire French class that I wanted to eat a shoe. You're fine."

You are officially Robin's certified, ride-or-die wingman

Since you two became inseparable, you’ve been the one holding the clipboard for her love life, even if her love life is mostly just her pining silently from across a room while eating snacks

When she started working at Scoops Ahoy with Steve Harrington, your role doubled

You became the third wheel that actually kept the ship afloat

You’d sit at the counter in your thrift-store grunge sweaters, ignoring Steve’s complaints about your "weird, indie-folk larp music" playing from your walkman, just so you could analyze the girls walking into the mall for Robin

"Okay, look at two o'clock," Robin would whisper frantically, leaning over the ice cream counter, nearly dipping her sailor hat into the cookies and cream, "The girl with the yellow shorts. Is she... You know? Does she have the vibe? Use your secret observation powers, please, I am begging you, my knees are turning to jelly."

As platonic soulmates, your calendar is filled with activities that normal Hawkins teenagers think are completely unhinged, but to you two, it’s paradise

You both live for long afternoons spent driving out to the weirdest, dustiest antique shops outside of town

While Robin is busy flipping through crates of old cassette tapes trying to find obscure pop, you are scanning the shelves for old cameras, bizarre trinkets, and ancient books

The beauty of your friendship with Robin is that it doesn't need to be loud all the time

Robin is the most thoughtful gift-giver

For your birthday, she spent three weeks scouring pawn shops to find a rare, vintage camera lens she knew you couldn't afford

She wrapped it in pages of a discarded mythology comic book and attached a pair of handmade, mismatched earrings she made herself out of old typewriter keys

~~~

Spidervser;

Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) -

You didn't exactly fit into Miguel O’Hara’s rigid, high-tech Spider-Society blueprint, which is probably why Hobie Brown noticed you within twenty minutes of your arrival

While the other Spider-People were marveling at the clean, futuristic lines of the lobby, you were standing near a junk pile of discarded timeline gadgets, trying to disassemble a broken 1990s-era multi-verse portal stabilizer with a screwdriver you’d smuggled from your home dimension

You were wearing an oversized, threadbare flannel shirt over a band tee, a stack of thrifted silver bracelets clinking up your arms, and your bulky, scuffed headphones resting around your neck

Hobie strolled up, his entire silhouette vibrating with that chaotic, multi-colored punk animation style

His tall frame leaned over you, "Right, then. What've we got here? Stealin' from the corporate overlords before you've even got your badge? Proper rebel behavior, that."

You didn't look up, your natural sarcasm kicking in instantly, "It’s not stealing if it’s destined for a landfill."

Hobie let out a deep, booming laugh that rattled his spiked vest. "Bloody brilliant. I’m Hobie. And you're a right little hoarder, aren't ya?"

From that moment on, the Society's two most cynical members were officially a duo

Miguel is secretly, inwardly crying right now

Your friendship with Hobie grew rapidly because you both spoke the language of non-conformity

While you were generally quiet around the massive crowds in the cafeteria, Hobie discovered very quickly that if he got you started on your favorite topics - ancient mythology, historical true crime, or the anatomical anomalies of across-the-universe arachnids - you would completely transform into a fast-talking, hyper-fixated genius

He loved your "know-it-all" rants

Hobie was fascinated by your music taste

When you handed him one of your extra earbuds and played an atmospheric, folk-cryptid track, he didn't mock it

Instead, he started tapping his combat boots to the rhythm

"It’s dark, innit? I can get behind this."

Hobie is an incredibly supportive friend who respects your boundaries, especially when your social anxiety kicks in or when the weight of public speaking makes you freeze

Hobie’s home dimension is a grunge playground

He takes you to abandoned, dystopian warehouses and underground markets

While he searches for scrap metal, you hunt for old books, weird artifacts, and jigsaw puzzles from his timeline

He once helped you drag a completely broken, rusted 1970s jukebox back through a portal to your room

Miguel almost lost his mind when he saw it on the security monitors

When you need to work on your stories or research animal mythology, Hobie will take you to the quietest roof

Luna Lovegood -

The Hogwarts greenhouses were always warm, smelling of rich earth, crushed eucalyptus, and magic

As Professor Sprout’s absolute star student

With a slightly exasperated Neville Longbottom holding a respectable second place

The greenhouse was practically your second common room

You were sixteen,fingers covered in soil, and brightly colored yellow and blue rings catching the enchanted sunlight

You were busy singing a muffled drum & bass rhythm under your breath when Professor Sprout bustled in with a girl whose ethereal aura completely disrupted the humid air

It was Luna Lovegood

Sprout explained that Luna needed some extra assistance navigating the practical applications of magical flora

And since you were practically a blooming prodigy, the task fell to you

Luna was wearing a necklace made of butterbeer corks and had a pair of bright yellow radishes dangling from her ears that perfectly matched the joyful yellow hair clips you wore

She looked at you with those wide, unblinking silvery eyes and smiled a serene, otherworldly smile

"The Wrackspurts are very quiet around you," She remarked, ignoring the writhing Venomous Tentacula beside her, "I think it’s because your hair looks like a cozy nest."

You, being incredibly loud and extroverted, didn't find her weird at all

In fact, you immediately yapped about how much you loved her radish earrings and asked if she wanted to see your favorite specimen: a rare, glowing cactus that hummed when you petted it

Luna simply listened, her quiet, serene presence a perfect anchor to your booming, high-energy chatter

Your friendship bloomed rapidly within the glass walls

You were a thunderstorm of fun facts, arts and crafts ideas, and loud laughter, while Luna was a gentle, drifting breeze

You spent your afternoons tutoring her, which mostly devolved into the two of you making up ridiculous plant puns and decorating the clay pots with bright blue and yellow muggle paints you’d smuggled in

You would ramble endlessly about the seven cacti you kept in your dormitory, and Luna would nod solemnly, suggesting that you play them some of your favorite "fast muggle thumping music" to help their roots dance

"You know, Luna, I think this Mandrake is just un-be-leaf-ably moody today," You shouted over the cries of a juvenile plant, adjusting your bright blue bead bracelets

Luna giggled, a sound like small silver bells

"Perhaps it’s just having a bad thyme, Y/N. It lacks your sunny disposition. You’re very much like a sunflower, you know. Always turning toward the light, even when the sky is gray."

Outside of lessons, you became her fierce protector

When a couple of third-year Slytherins tried to hide Luna’s stuff, your hyper-loyal streak flared up

You didn't hesitate - you marched right up to them, knocked a stack of books out of their hands, and threatened to hex them with a pimple-cursing jinx if they didn't return her belongings immediately

When you walked back to Luna, still huffing and full of adrenaline, she just laced her fingers through yours

"You have a very fiery canopy," She murmured softly, "But I like how safe it feels beneath your branches."

The feelings didn't hit you like a sudden lightning bolt; instead, they grew slowly, like a seedling taking deep root in fertile soil

You began to realize that your extroverted, loud nature, which sometimes overwhelmed others, never fazed Luna

She anchored you

When you went to Hogsmeade, you’d find yourself looking for trinkets that matched her eyes, or buying a warm, sugary festival-style pastry just to share it with her

You noticed the way the golden hour light caught her dirty-blonde hair, and how your heart did a strange, fluttering flip every time she reached out to adjust your hair for you

For Luna, the realization was just as sweet

She was used to being an outsider, but you invited her into your loud, vibrant world with open arms

One evening, you set up a small "festival" inside the empty greenhouse

You used a localized charm to make the ceiling look like a starlit festival sky, playing a soft, rhythmic acoustic beat, and brought a basket of dried fruits and sweets

You danced around the potted sunflowers, your hair bobbing, laughing loudly as you tried to teach her a cheerleading routine you remembered from your younger years

Luna watched you, her silver eyes reflecting the magical starlight

"Y/N," She said softly, stepping into your space

The scent of sweet soil and your citrusy perfume filled the air

"I think my heart is undergoing a sudden case of photosynthesis. Whenever you are near, it expands, wanting to absorb all of your sunlight."

You paused mid-laugh, "Luna... Are you saying I’m growing on you?" You teased, though your voice trembled

"Extremely," She whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the bright blue ring on your thumb, "I believe we are perfectly cross-pollinated."

The official confession happened during the Spring Equinox

You had spent the entire day helping Professor Sprout repot a massive batch of Dittany, and you were exhausted but buzzing with happy energy

Luna found you sitting on a wooden bench, a halo of real sunflowers floating around your head

A little charm you’d practiced or fun

When she sat down next to you, you blurted it out, unable to contain your loud, passionate heart any longer

"Luna, I’m totally crazy about you! Like, more than my cacti, more than a summer rave, more than anything. I want to be your person. If that's okay?"

Luna didn't answer with words at first

Instead, she leaned in and pressed a soft, feather-light kiss to your cheek, right beneath your eye

"I’ve known the Nargles were matchmaking us for months," She said with a serene smile, "I would love nothing more than to walk through the meadows with you."

From that moment on, your relationship was an ethereal blend of your chaotic, loud joy and her calm, whimsical magic

You became a fixture by each other's sides

She calls you "My Sunflower"

Your dates are always held outdoors or in cozy, magical spaces

You take her on "picnics"

You bring a blanket, lay on your backs, and look at the clouds while you read manga out loud to her, doing all the dramatic, loud voices for the characters while she listens with rapt attention

Evenings are spent in the greenhouse or her common room

You sit cross-legged behind her, gently unbraiding her hair and brushing it out while she holds one of your cacti, whispering sweet things to it so it doesn't prick her

You love collecting colorful wizarding sweets and sharing them, giggling when your tongues turn bright blue or neon yellow

One rainy evening, you were feeling deeply discouraged after a long, frustrating day of classes where people wouldn't let you speak

You were sitting silently in the corner, your usual loud spark completely gone

Luna walked in, wearing a oversized sweater you’d brightened up with yellow dye, and handed you a handmade crown woven entirely out of fresh, glowing blue hyacinths and miniature sunflowers

She placed it gently on your head, leaning down to press her forehead against yours

"Don't let them prune your spirit, my sunflower," She whispered, her hands cupping your face, her rings cold against your warm skin, "Your voice is the most beautiful rhythm in this entire castle. If they won't listen to your song, sing it to me. I will always dance to it."

~~~

Across The Spiderverse;

Pavitr Prabhakar -

The Spider-Society HQ was a sprawling, chaotic metropolis of web-slinging heroes

But nothing prepared them for your entrance

You were sixteen, a dimension-traveling Spider-Person wearing a sleek suit accented with your favorite neon yellow and bright blue patterns

You didn't use a standard Go-Home-Machine or a dimensional watch to arrive

Instead, you literally tore a rift in space-time and stepped directly into Miguel O'Hara’s central command center, casually tossing an empty bag of festival food into a nearby bin and brushing your hands

Miguel was immediately on your case, his massive, imposing frame towering over you as his glowing red eyes glared in sheer frustration

You were dragged into an immediate interrogation, surrounded by various Spider-People

Including a very curious Pavitr Prabhakar, whose eyes were wide, his gorgeous, voluminous hair bouncing as he leaned forward to watch

You sat there, utterly bored, resting your chin in your hands, your fingers adorned with your favorite colorful rings over your suit

"Look, big guy," You sighed loudly, your extroverted, sarcastic tone catching everyone off guard, "I know the drill. Radioactive spider bit me, boom, super strength, wall-crawling, web-shooting. I know you know, so can we skip the slideshow? The unique part? I can teleport through space and time. No watch required. Pretty neat, right?"

What you didn't tell Miguel...

What you hid behind your loud, yapping, nonchalant exterior

Was the horrifying truth

You were from the future

And you were currently staring at Pavitr Prabhakar, the boy who, in your original timeline, you had loved with every fiber of your being

The boy who had died in your arms

You had broken the laws of the universe to loop back in time, desperate to find a way to rewrite reality and keep him alive

Miguel reluctantly assigned you to a small tactical strike team consisting of yourself, Hobie Brown, and Pavitr

After he deemed you trustworthy

It was a cruel form of torture for your heart

Every time Pavitr flashed his brilliant, gap-toothed smile at you, or adjusted his gold-trimmed blue and red suit, a sharp, physical ache bloomed in your chest

You tried your best to act like your usual loud, energetic self

You talked endlessly about manga, raves, and your love for the eco-club back in your home dimension, trying to drown out the grief

Pavitr was a perfect listener, matching your high energy with his own bouncy, optimistic chatter

But Pavitr noticed the cracks in your facade

He would catch you staring at him with a profound, heartbreaking sadness before you’d quickly mask it with a sarcastic joke or a loud laugh

One afternoon, while you were sitting on the edge of a skyscraper in Mumbattan, eating spicy street food, Pavitr swung down and sat right next to you, his shoulder brushing yours

"Hey," He said, his voice unusually soft as he took off his mask, revealing his handsome face and earnest brown eyes, "Can I ask you something? Have we... Met before? Because every time you look at me, I feel this weird, warm spark. And sometimes, when you laugh, I get this intense feeling that I've known you for a thousand lifetimes."

You swallowed hard, forcing a loud, bright laugh that sounded entirely too hollow

"Nah, Pav! Must be a localized dimensional echo or something. I just have one of those faces. Now, tell me more about chai."

"It's just chai, not- Wait... You didn't say "chai tea"."

You smiled, but inside, you were weeping

Over the next two months, the slow burn of your forced proximity began to consume you both

Despite your desperate attempts to keep an emotional distance to avoid altering the timeline too severely, you couldn't help but fall in love with him all over again

You were a thunderstorm of anxiety and fierce, protective loyalty

He was a literal ray of pure, unadulterated sunshine

You found yourself sticking up for him during briefings, loudly snapping at Miguel whenever the leader was too harsh on Pavitr’s optimistic methods

Pavitr was falling hard

He loved your loud, unfiltered personality

He loved how you wore bright yellow and blue accessories over your spider-suit just to express yourself

He started buying you little trinkets from his dimension

A yellow flower, or a rare manga volume you’d mentioned wanting

Every time he handed you a gift, his hand would linger against yours, his eyes searching your face for the answers you refused to give

The tension between you was palpable, a beautiful, tragic dance on the edge of a knife

Then, the day arrived

The exact mission you had been dreading

You, Pavitr, and Hobie were deployed to a crumbling, neon-lit cyberpunk dimension to contain a massive, volatile reality-glitch anomaly of Rhino

The sky was bleeding fractured code, and the wind howled like a dying machine

Your heart was pounding against your ribs, fear coursing through your veins like electricity

This was the moment

This was where Pavitr had died in the future

As the anomaly lunged, firing a beam of pure, localized antimatter directly at an distracted Pavitr, time seemed to slow down

You didn't hesitate

Your fierce loyalty and profound love overrode every instinct of self-preservation

With a loud, defiant cry, you used your teleportation power, materializing right in front of him

Crack

The beam hit you squarely in the chest

The force threw you backward, and Pavitr caught you, screaming your name as you both slammed onto the rain-slicked rooftop

Fueled by sheer, panicked rage, Pavitr used his powers with the help of Hobie to trap the anomaly in a matter of seconds before dropping to his knees beside you

He pulled you into his lap, his hands trembling violently as he pressed down on your bleeding wound

"No, no, no! Y/N, stay with me! Why did you do that?!" He sobbed, tears streaming down his face, ruining his perfectly styled hair as the rain washed over you both, "You idiot! You loud, beautiful, reckless idiot!"

You let out a weak, wet chuckle, trying to maintain your positive spark even as the edges of your vision began to fray into digital static

"Hey... Don't yell, Pav... Defending my friends... Is kind of my thing."

"You just don't get it! I love you!" Pavitr cried out, pressing his forehead against yours, his tears mixing with the rain on your maskless face, "I've loved you since the second you stepped into that HQ! Please, don't leave me. I can't lose you."

You reached up, your hand trembling as you cupped his warm cheek, "I know, Pav... I love you too. Always have. Always will."

Your body began to glitch violently, flashing neon blue and yellow before, with one final, agonizing hum of space-time energy, you completely vanished from his arms, leaving Pavitr alone on the rooftop with Hobie, screaming your name into the empty rain

He wiped his tears, his heart shattered into a million pieces, and activated his watch to return to Mumbattan, a ghost of the boy he used to be

GASP

You sat up violently in your bed, tearing the covers off as you drew a deep, air-grasping breath into your lungs

Your hands flew to your chest

No blood, no wound

You looked around

The seven cacti sat peacefully on your windowsill, bathing in the early morning sunlight

You turned your head and stared at the digital calendar hanging on your bedroom wall

It was the exact date

The exact morning you had first teleported to the Spider-Society HQ all those months ago

A heavy, crushing weight settled onto your shoulders as tears finally spilled from your eyes

It was a cycle

An endless, quantum loop

Every single time you failed to stop the anomaly perfectly, you died, and reality reset your personal timeline, dragging you back to the very beginning

You were so tired...

And the worst part?

Once Pavitr returned to HQ from that tragic mission, the timeline rewrite would wipe his memory completely

It would wipe everyone's memory, except yours

When you walked into that interrogation room today, he wouldn't remember your name, your love, or the way you died for him

Over and over and over again

All to try and save him, to find out the right way to stop the anomaly

To live, to survive finally

He would just see a loud, strange new Spider-Girl in a neon suit

You wiped your tears away, and you took a deep breath, hardening your resolve

You would go back

You would endure the interrogation, the slow-burn friendship, the painful pining, and the heartbreaking realization all over again

You've been doing it for months at this point, every day was the same

You could do it again

You would relive the love and the pain a thousand times over, just to keep him safe

Because to a fiercely loyal soul like yours, Pavitr Prabhakar was worth every single loop

Wally West (The Flash/Kid Flash) -

You weren't brought onto the team to punch through titanium or use magic to disarm someone

Your superpower lay in your hyper-analytical mind

Perfect for tracking telemetry, structural blind spots, and coordinate mapping from behind the safety of the main console at HQ

You sat in your designated ergonomic chair, your monochrome black hoodie swallowed you up, your cane rested against the desk

You were seventeen, a year older than the hyperactive speedster who skidded into the room three minutes before the team briefing, a half-eaten burger in hand

The real introduction, however, happened on a rainy Tuesday night when the team was grounded due to severe weather conditions

Which you completely loathed

To pass the time, you sat in the lounge area, your freckled hands meticulously sorting a deck of Uno cards

Wally, oozing sixteen-year-old bravado in his yellow and red uniform, still, dropped onto the sofa next to you

"Oh, you're playing the King of Uno. Just so you know, babe. Prepare to weep."

Ten minutes later, Wally was staring at his hand of twelve cards while you calmly laid down a Draw Four with a completely blank expression

Your grey eyes flicked up to his stunned face

"That's game, West. Your speed doesn't alter mathematical probability."

Wally didn't just like you in that moment

He was utterly, hopelessly transfixed

A guy who wore comfortable trainers, owned a short dark mullet with blonde tips that looked incredibly cool

And could utterly dismantle his ego without breaking a sweat?

He was done for

As the months rolled on

You became Wally's absolute favorite person ever

He quickly noticed your routine

You liked things predictable

You liked being at you desk

And you hated heights and the cold

Because Wally was an intensely giving, perceptive guy

(Except with Uno)

Beneath all his theatrical flirting, he adapted to you instantly

He never once babied you about your hyper-mobility or your cane; instead, he treated your workstation like a sacred cockpit where you were the undisputed captain

Whenever the team returned from a grueling mission, Wally wouldn't even wait for Batman's debrief

A gust of wind would rustle your fanfic-plotting notebooks, and suddenly a steaming-hot bowl of five-alarm chili would appear on your desk, right next to a cold glass of water

"Extra spicy, just how your weird palate likes it," He’d grin, leaning against your console, his uniform dusty but his smile blinding

He’d sit with you for hours while you adjusted your personality down from its high-masking public shell into your comfortable nerd self

He would listen with genuine fascination as you ranted about the complex lore of Supernatural TV shows or the intricate plot lines of comic books you read, completely unbothered by how specific your interests were

The slow burn was agonizing for anyone watching, mostly because Wally turned into a completely devoted, lost puppy whenever you were in the room

He stopped trying to flirt with every person in sight

His focus had narrowed entirely down to the pale guy with the freckled hands who kept him alive through his ear comms

You started realizing your own feelings when you noticed how safe he made your world feel

If a mission took the team to a high-altitude location, your voice would get just a fraction tighter over the channel

Wally would always whisper into his individual comm link

"Hey. I'm right here on the ground, okay? Keep your eyes on the data screen. I've got your back."

He’d gently wrap one of his cozy, oversized blankets around your shoulders when the air conditioning got too cold, sitting cross-legged on the desk by your chair

Your grey eyes would meet his green ones, and the silence between you would become heavy with things left unsaid

You loved his brilliant, scientific mind that hid behind his goofiness, and he loved your quiet stability

The confession didn't happen in a peaceful living room

It happened right before the Reach’s chrysalis threatened to destroy the Earth

The sky outside was an apocalyptic, violent swirl of extreme weather

You were at the main computer, your fingers flying across the keys to calculate the energy required to defuse the situation

Wally stood beside you, his eyes fixed on the terrifying data

He knew what he had to do

He had to run counterpart to Artemis and Flash, and he knew his speed might not be enough to keep him safe

He reached out, his hand gently covering your freckled fingers on the keyboard, forcing you to look at him

"Hey. Look at me."

Your grey eyes were wide, reflecting the green flashing warning lights of the screen

"Wally, the energy displacement... If you run at that capacity-"

"I know," He interrupted softly, his voice devoid of his usual jokes, "But I have to. Because you're on this planet."

He reached up, his thumb brushing over the light freckles on your cheek. "I’ve been in love with you since you ruined my life at Uno. If I don't make it back... Just know that you... You are the new King of Uno."

He gave you one lingering, desperate kiss that tasted like iron and rain before vanishing in a yellow streak

Though he fades into the Speed Force, the memory of his quick laughter and the cozy blankets he left behind remain your anchor

A heartbreakingly beautiful reminder that the fastest man alive slowed down entirely just for you

~~~

Harry Potter;

George Weasley -

Hogwarts was overwhelming for a first-year who heavily relied on routine and quiet spaces

You had spent the entire train ride hiding your face behind a comic book, adjusting to the sensory overload of the moving castle

You hated the stairs

Why did they have to move?

Your hyper-mobility made the shifting staircases an absolute nightmare, and you were standing at the bottom of a flight to the library, gripping your cane tightly, feeling completely frozen as a crowd of older students pushed past

"Oi, Fred, look down there. Looks like we’ve got a stray little badger or a lost lion," A cheerful voice echoed from above

Two identical boys with flaming red hair bounded down the steps

George Weasley stopped right in front of you, his brown eyes warm and observant

He noticed your short dark mullet with the blonde tips, even at the age of eleven, and the way you were tensing up

Instead of making jokes, George dramatically bowed, sweeping his cloak across the stone floor

"Allow us to introduce ourselves. I’m George, that’s Fred. And we are the official staircase navigators of Hogwarts. Where to, your highness?"

You let out a small, sarcastic snort, your high-masking defense mechanism kicking in

"The library. Assuming you two can actually read well enough to find it."

Fred gasped in mock offense, but George’s eyes lit up with absolute delight

"Oh, he's a sharp one! I like him!"

They flanked you on either side, George carefully matching his long stride to your pace, making sure no one bumped into your frame

By the time you reached the library, your anxiety had completely evaporated, replaced by a warm, bubbling comfort

Because Fred and George were in your year, you were constantly around the twins, but it was George who truly learned your rhythms

You quickly became an indispensable part of their circle, acting as the mastermind behind their more complex, creative pranks

While the twins had the chaotic energy, you had the deep, obsessive focus of a nerd who loved analyzing structures

You would sit in the back of the Gryffindor common room, wrapped in one of your favorite cozy black blankets, wearing a massive hoodie, mapping out the precise timing of Hogwarts patrol schedules so they wouldn't get caught

Holidays at the Burrow became your absolute favorite routine

Mrs. Weasley took one look at you and made it her personal mission to feed you

Though she quickly learned from George that you only liked things loaded with chili and spices

George would secretly steal the spice jars from the kitchen to extra-season your plate so you wouldn't feel overwhelmed by the heavy traditional roasts

You’d spend evenings in the twins' bedroom, completely ignoring the wizarding world to binge-read Muggle comic books

With George lying across the foot of his bed, completely fascinated by your detailed explanations of superhero lore

Arthur also loves hearing about everything too...

The slow burn lasted for years, complicated by a massive, frustrating blind spot

You had fallen deeply for George

For his kindness, his quiet attentiveness, and the way he always made sure there was a chair ready for you so your joints wouldn't ache

But George, in a rare moment of insecurity, convinced himself that your sarcasm and closeness belonged to Fred

George would watch you two laughing over a Transfiguration mishap and feel a sharp, heavy ache in his chest, pulling back just enough to make you notice the distance

The breakthrough happened in their fifth year

You were sitting alone in the abandoned Potions classroom, your cane resting against the cauldron, trying to cope with a sudden wave of social anxiety

George walked in, his expression guarded

"Shouldn't you be with Fred? He was looking for you to test the Canary Creams."

You leaned back, letting your sarcastic shell drop completely

"George, if I wanted to be with Fred, I’d be with Fred. But I’m currently sitting in a damp dungeon hoping a specific, idiot red-head would realize that I’ve spent the last five years completely obsessed with him."

"Who? Fred?"

You wanted to drown yourself in the cauldron...

You gave him a look

George froze, his jaw practically dropping

"Me?" He blurted out, stepping closer, his robes sweeping the dusty floor, "You... You don't like Fred? But you always laugh at his jokes!"

"Because they're stupid, George! I laugh at your jokes because you're brilliant." You snapped

George didn't waste another second

He crossed the room, his large, freckled hands gently cupping your pale face, his brown eyes burning with a mixture of relief and absolute adoration

"Blimey..." He whispered, right before pulling you into a breathless, fierce kiss that left your head spinning.

Being George Weasley’s partner was an exercise in beautiful, secret rebellion

Because of the brewing war and the tyrannical arrival of Dolores Umbridge, you both kept your relationship entirely hidden from his mother and the High Inquisitor

His mother for different reasons, George didn't want his mother to bombard the both of you with endless questions about how you got together and asking if you'd adopt after graduation

You knew she'd mean well, but-

Hidden kisses behind the tapestries, secret notes tucked into your books, and George gently rubbing your back when your hyper-mobility flared up

The climax of your Hogwarts journey came on the day of the fireworks

Umbridge had cornered you, threatening detention

Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the castle

Fred and George swept through the doors on their brooms, triumphant grins on their faces

George flew low, effortlessly steering his broom right alongside you

"Your chariot awaits, my lord!" George yelled over the roar of the magical fireworks

He extended a hand, his strong grip pulling you up onto the broom behind him

You wrapped your arms securely around his waist, burying your face into his red-and-gold sweater

As you soared out of the broken windows into the open, gray sky, leaving Umbridge screaming below, you let out a laugh

You were tired, but with George holding the broom steady, you felt completely invincible

~~~

Stranger Things;

Steve Harrington -

During your high school years, Steve Harrington was a distant, frustrating figure

You were a couple of years below him, a quiet nerd who navigated the chaotic hallways of Hawkins High with a short, dark mullet with blonde tips, a green hoodie that hid your thin frame, and a cane that you used to stabilize your hyper-mobile joints

You spent your time deep in the trenches of supernatural TV show fandoms and writing self-indulgent fanfics in your notebook

You were well aware that Steve was a jerk, which is why you kept your massive, highly illogical crush on him a total secret

Your best friend, Robin Buckley, knew everything

So, after graduation, when she started working at Family Video with a thoroughly humbled, incredibly dorky Steve Harrington, she decided it was time to intervene

One rainy afternoon, Robin practically dragged you into the store

"Steve!" Robin yelled, leaning over the counter. "This is my friend. They write stories that are literally better than half the movies in this comedy section, and they think you're an idiot. Be nice."

Whan an introduction

Steve looked up from rewinding a tape, his famous hair slightly messy, a completely goofy smile spreading across his face

"Hey! I'm not an idiot. I'm a highly respectable film connoisseur," He defended himself, pointing a plastic case at you

Your grey eyes narrowed in a playful, sarcastic glare. "Steve, you literally recommended "Caddyshack" to a woman looking for a documentary on golf last week."

Steve paused, his cheeks flushing pink, "Okay, first of all, that was a mistake. Second of all... You're pretty sharp, aren't you?"

Over the next year, a deeply comforting routine formed

You hated long days out and extreme weather, so Family Video became your ultimate sanctuary

You would sit on the counter, your cane hooked over the edge, typing out your latest fanfiction chapters on a portable typewriter or reading a comic book

Steve would wander over during his slow shifts, completely content to just be in your bubble

He didn't understand the hyper-specific lore of the shows you binged, but he loved the way your freckled hands moved when you got excited

He became incredibly attuned to your physical needs without ever being weird about it

If he saw you shivering from the store's draft, he’d immediately go to his car and retrieve his softest, beat-up Hawkins High crewneck for you to wear

If your joints were aching, he’d gently take your typewriter from you

"Alright, break time. Sit back. Tell me what happens next in your new story about the demon-hunting brothers. Does the tall one ever get a break?"

(Yeah, you came up with the idea of Supernatural)

He valued your intelligence immensely, often asking your advice on how to talk to the kids or how to handle Dustin's relentless teasing

Your crush didn't fade; it morphed into something much deeper and more terrifying

You loved this version of Steve

The one who carried heavy boxes for you

Who bought you spicy Mexican candy from the gas station

And who looked at you like you were the smartest person in Indiana

Robin eventually noticed the lingering glances and the way you’d mask your personality a bit less whenever Steve laughed at your jokes

She decided she’d had enough of the slow burn

She organized a "mandatory horror movie night" at Steve's house, promising a marathon of "Alien"

But when you arrived at the Harrington residence, wearing an oversized black hoodie and holding a cozy blanket you'd brought from home, Robin was nowhere to be found

Instead, a note was taped to the door: Car broke down. Have fun, nerds!

Wait... Robin didn't have a car

Steve opened the door, wearing a simple gray t-shirt and sweatpants, looking a little nervous

"Uh, hey. Robin's a liar, by the way. She doesnt have a car." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But... Do you still want to stay? Can't have all the popcorn and candy go to waste."

The living room was dim, the blue light of the television casting shadows across the walls

You were curled up on his massive sofa, swallowed by your cozy blanket, with a large bowl of popcorn sitting between you

"Alien" was playing, the tension on screen mirroring the absolute electricity between the two of you

Your grey eyes were fixed on the screen, but your mind was entirely focused on how close Steve’s shoulder was to yours

You both reached into the popcorn bowl at the exact same time

Your hand bumped directly against his

You froze, your high-masking instinct telling you to pull away and make a sarcastic joke to break the tension

But Steve didn't move his hand

Instead, his fingers gently turned, wrapping around yours inside the warm bowl

"Look, I gotta just say it before I lose my mind," Steve muttered, his voice dropping an octave, his eyes fixed on your hand holding his. "Robin didn't plan this alone. I mean, I told her... I told her I’ve been completely crazy about you for months. And I know I used to be a total tool in high school, and you're this incredibly smart, cool writer who is way out of my league, but... I really like you."

You stared at him, your heart hammering against your ribs

The sarcasm completely vanished from your tongue, leaving only your soft, authentic side

"Steve... I’ve had a crush on you since you started taking care of those kids as if your birthed them yourself."

Steve’s head snapped up, a massive, disbelief-filled smile breaking across his face

"Are you serious? You're not just messing with me?"

"I don't joke about, Harrington," You murmured softly

Steve let out a breathy laugh, immediately sliding closer on the couch

He pulled you directly into his side, wrapping his strong arms around you over your cozy blanket

Joseph Wilson (Jericho) -

(Kind of going along with the 2018 Titans, but I took creative liberties)

Joining the Titans was overwhelming for an introvert who hated the thought of hurting a fly

Your power to draw things and bring them to life for a short time was brilliant for creating defensive shields or giant, harmless cartoon walls to block enemies, but you felt like an outsider in a tower full of trained professional fighters

You spent your first couple of weeks attached to Rachel's side mostly because she understood the need for absolute silence

But everything shifted the day you met Joseph

Being mute, Joey operated in a world of quiet observation that immediately felt safe to you

Because you didn't know American Sign Language, you carried around one of your dozens of charcoal-stained sketchpads everywhere you went

The very first day ou sat near him in the Titans' lounge, you flipped to. clean page, doodled a tiny, detailed picture of a sleeping dog, and wrote next to it:

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I hope it's alright if I sit here?"

Joey's face broke into that incredibly warm, bright smile of his

He took your pencil, and wrote back in neat, sweeping cursive

"Always. I like your glasses and sweater. And the dog. What's his name?"

And that's how it started

The sketchpad became your lifeline

For months, you and "Jer"

(The nickname you fondly gave him)

Were entirely inseparable but entirely silent to the rest of the room

During long, tedious, boring mission debriefs with Dick, you two would pass the notebook back and forth under the table

You would draw funny caricatures of the team

And Jer would cover his mouth, his shoulders shaking with silent, infectious laughter

You developed a whole language of inside jokes, sketching out a tiny turtle whenever a meeting was going too slow, or a little heart whenever one of you did something sweet

You both even got to the point that you both understood each other without even saying (writing) a thing

He became your ultimate comfort zone in a chaotic world

The feelings didn't hit you like a lighting bolt

They grew steadily

Like the intricate black-and-white floral tattoos wrapped around you

You noticed how Jer always made sure to sit beside you to watch you doodle

And how he never minded when your baggy clothes left faint gray charcoal smudges on his jackets when you hugged

He was so deeply gentle

And for someone with a soft heart who hated violence

For the most part

His kindness was completely intoxicating

You found yourself looking at his expressive eyes, his soft hair, and the way his hands moved so gracefully when he signed

You wanted to bridge the gap completely

So, on nights when your brain kept spinning well past two in the morning, you sat cross-legged on your bed, surrounded by thrifted clothes you were stitching custom embroidery onto

Beside your sewing needles, you kept a guide on American Sign Language

As well as your phone, video guides up and ready

While your two dogs snored softly at the foot of the bed, you practiced moving your fingers in the dim lamplight

Memorizing the shapes of the letters and words

It was incredibly frustrating at times, but every time you thought of Jer, your fingers found the rhythm

You kept it a total secret for a year

Wanting it to be absolutely perfect before you showed him

Believe me, you weren't an expert, but you felt confident

The confession happened on a quiet rainy evening in your room in HQ

You were wearing a massively oversized, paint-splattered gray hoodie, your round silver glasses sliding down your nose as you worked on a sketch

Jer was sitting on the floor across from you, leaning against the bed

He tapped your knee to get your attention and handed your communication notebook, expecting you to write

Instead, you took the notebook and gently set it face-down on the floor

Jer tilted his head, his eyes filled with mild, curious confusion

Taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart

You lifted your hands

Slowly, deliberately, you began to sign

You watched his eyes widened to the size of saucers, his mouth dropping open slightly in sheer, unadulterated shock

You signed that you had spent the last year secretly learning ASL because you wanted to communicate with him effortlessly

And because his voice - the one he shared through his expressions, hands, and soul - mattered more to you than anything else

To break the heavy, emotional tension

You quickly sign that you also learned some funny words, rapidly flashing the signs for "turtle" and a couple of the teribly foul curse words you'd learned

A silent, breathy chuckle escaped Jer's lips, but as you looked closer, you saw a faint glint of tears welling up in his eyes

He was completely moved, staring at your hands as if they were performing actual magic

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling slightly as you made the final, most important secret known

You signed, "I love you"

Jer didn't hesitate

His expression softened into something so deeply adoring and tender it made your stomach flip

He reached out, gently catching your knee with one hand before signing "I love you" right back

He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips, before signing, "Can I kiss you?"

You gave a frantic, happy nod

And when his lips met yours, it was the softest, most reassuring feeling in the world

Dating Jer didn't drastically change the beautiful dynamic you already had

It just added a layer of profound warmth and physical affection

Because you were self-proclaimed introvert who only let a very tiny, exclusive list of people touch you, Jer treated your boundaries like sacred ground

He loved pulling you into his side while you both sat on the couch

His arm wrapped securely around your shoulders while you lazily sketched tattoo ideas on his arm or sketchbook

He became your biggest fan

As if he wasn't already

Often taking your drawings and pinning them all over is bedroom walls

Your favorite outdoor dates were completely low-stress and quiet

You'd pack a blanket, your sketchbook, pencils, snacks, and treats for your dogs

And Jer would drive you out to a secluded, grassy hill overlooking the city where you'd have a picnic and play with the dogs

While the dogs chased butterflies, you would lay back with your head in Jer's lap

He would bring his polaroid camera and cassette player

You'd listen to songs from the 80s

You'd sing along to some of them

Jer would absolutely love for you to design him a tattoo for him to get

The sweetest moments happened in the quiet evenings

Since you loved to stitch

You started customizing his jackets

Jer would sit patiently across from you while you embroidered small, delicate wildflowers onto the collars of his demin jackets

If your hands got cramped or your mind went into a restless spiral

He would gently take your hands and massage them with soothing lavender oil

You both eventually started keeping a secret savings jar hidden in your closet

Labeled with a little sketch of a house

Every time you made a little extra money at work

You'd drop cash inside, silently planning for a quiet cottage far away from the superhero life

You're sitting on your bedroom floor, frantically looking for your blending stump, your hair falling in your face a bit

You sign, rather poorly because of your frantic mind, "I am losing my mind. I think a goblin stole my blending stump."

Jer watches you, a massive, teasing smirk playing on his lips

He lifted his hands and signs back, "You signed "grandmother' instead of "goblin, honey."

You huffed, throwing a pillow at him, signing, "Shut up, I'm still learning!"

Jer catches the pillow, tosses it aside, and crawls to sit next to you

He takes takes off your glasses, cleans them perfectly with the corner of his soft shirt

Then he wipes the stray smudge of charcoal off your cheek with his thumb, and kisses you sweetly before replacing your glasses

For a good, long moment, you forgot you lost your blending stump

~~~

Marvel;

Robbie Reyes (Ghost Rider) -

(Mainly thinking about Midnight Suns: Infernal Rising, but yeah more creative liberties were taken; I know Gabriel Luna was Robbie in Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D, so you could imagine him if you like)

Your introduction to the supernatural world was a literal nightmare

You were just a quiet, introverted artist who wouldn't harm a fly

But an ancient, malicious demon from the underworld had targeted your pure, gentle soul

Possessing your body to commit a string of reckless, petty crimes

The Midnight Suns

Blade, Magik, Nico Minoru, and Ghost Rider

Had tracked the demonic energy directly to you

While the team were chanting a containment spell to separate the entity from your body without tearing you apart

Robbie was in his Ghost Rider form, completely transfixed

Even with an evil, unnatural crimson glare in your eyes and a wicked smirk on your face, he could see the underlying bravery of the young woman trapped inside

He could tell that you were fighting back against the demon from the inside

The battle was chaotic and loud

But Nico's magic finally tore the demon out, banishing it into a swirling, purple portal back to the underworld

The moment the possession broke, the unnatural energy drained from you

Your vibrant red-dyed hair lost its ghostly white color

And your eyes shifted back to their natural, deep blue

You collapsed from pure exhaustion

Before you could hit the cold concrete, Robbie slipped out of his Ghost Rider form and slid across the floor, catching you in his arms

His skin was warm, unusually so, but his touch was incredibly gentle

"Hey, hey, I got you. You're safe. The passenger is gone." Robbie murmured, his dark eyes fulled with an intense, protective concern as he looked down at your face, your crocked round glasses, which he fixed

You thanked the intimidating team with a sleepy, weak smile

And Robbie immediately volunteered to take you home in his black 1969 Dodge Charger

Ensuring his hell-powers were completely subdued so you shouldn't be frightened

When he walked you to your front door, he looked uncharacteristically nervous

"Look, I know this is entirely crazy, kind of inappropriate after what happened, you know, going through hell... Literally. But I'd really like to get to know you more. Would you be down to get some food with me sometime? No magic or paranormal stuff. Sorry, I'm ranting... Just the best diner in town and a massive slice of pie."

You let out a quiet, sarcastic chuckle, "You ask everyone out that you saved from demons?"

"No, just you."

What started as a kind of welfare check diner adventure quickly turned into a deep, comforting friendship

Robbie was used to dealing with violence, vengeance, and the heavy burden of the Rider

So coming over to your apartment after eating at the diner was like stepping into an alternate universe

Your place smelled like rich oil pants, old books, and the sweet scent of the laundry detergent you used on your thrifted clothes

Your two dogs instantly took a liking to him, burying their heads in his lap the moment he sat down

Which hardly happens to him

You two started hanging out constantly outside of his mechanic work and Midnight Suns duties

You’d sit in the passenger seat of the Hell Charger

Which you affectionately nicknamed "The Beast"

And you’d go on long drives just to clear your head when your social anxiety made the world feel too loud

You’d bring your sketchpad along, doodling intricate black-and-white botanical designs while Robbie drove with one hand on the wheel

You noticed how he always checked on you, how he’d instinctively lower the volume of the 80s rock playing on the radio if he noticed you spacing out or getting overstimulated

He was a protector through and through, and your soft, empathetic heart was completely defenseless against how deeply he cared for his brother, Gabe, and how he looked out for you

The confession happened right inside his auto shop late one evening

You were sitting on a overturned milk crate, wearing an oversized flannel you’d stolen from his closet, your shoulder-length red hair tied up

You were meticulously sketching the intricate gears of an engine block, your fingers covered in a mixture of charcoal and actual car grease

Robbie was wiping his hands on a shop rag, watching you through the amber glow of the hanging shop lights

"You know, you're entirely too good for this place," Robbie said suddenly, his voice low and raspy

He walked over, leaning his hip against the workbench near your crate

You looked up through your silver glasses, a sarcastic smirk on your lips

"What, you don't think charcoal and motor oil are the ultimate artistic medium, Robbie? I think it adds character."

Robbie didn't laugh

He just looked down at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch

"I'm serious. You're the kindest, softest person I've ever met. You won't even step on a spider in the shop. And somehow, you look at me- With all the baggage and the literal monster inside my head- And you aren't afraid. I didn't think someone like me was allowed to have someone like you. But I'm completely in love with you."

Your heart hammered against your ribs like a classic 70s drum solo

You set your sketchbook down, stood up, and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder

"I've been in love with you since you tried making cookies with me in my kitchen and almost burnt the place down. Now kiss me before your engine overheats."

Dating Robbie Reyes felt like being fiercely guarded by a dragon who only showed his soft, warm underbelly to you

He was incredibly affectionate in private, always needing to have some part of his body touching yours to keep him grounded

Because he knew you preferred loose, baggy clothing, your wardrobe slowly became entirely replaced by his old, broken-in mechanics' flannels and oversized hoodies, which he absolutely loved seeing you wear

For outdoor fun, Robbie loved taking you to dusty, abandoned dirt tracks outside the city where he could safely let the Charger open up without endangering anyone

You’d sit in the passenger seat, gripping the dashboard, laughing hysterically as he drifted across the dirt

He liked when you encouraged him to do donuts

Afterward, you’d sit on the hood of the hot car under the desert stars, eating greasy burgers and listening to classic rock

You’d bring your charcoal pads and try to capture the rugged lines of his profile in the moonlight

Rainy nights were spent in your apartment

Robbie would lay flat on his back on your living room rug, letting your two dogs curl up right on his chest while you sat beside him, carefully hand-stitching cool, gothic patches onto his favorite leather riding jackets

He would watch the ceiling, humming along to whatever 70s pop ballad was playing, completely at peace because the Rider was quiet whenever you were near

Robbie knew how much you loved animals, so he’d regularly bring home stray kittens or injured birds he found near the scrapyard, knowing your soft heart would immediately nurse them back to health

He also started a small tradition of buying you black-and-white botanical art books every single month, writing sweet, surprisingly poetic notes on the inside cover

You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling, singing along at the top of your lungs to Fleetwood Mac’s "The Chain" while waving a wooden spoon around like a microphone as you wait for your bread to finish baking in the oven

Robbie walks into the kitchen, still covered in grease from the shop, a massive, soft grin spreading across his face

He walks right between your knees, wrapping his strong arms around your waist

"You're entirely ridiculous, you know that?" He teases, kissing the tip of your nose

"I am an artist, Robbie Reyes, show some respect," You reply playfully, dropping the spoon to wrap your arms around his neck, "Besides, you love my singing."

"Yeah," He murmurs, his dark eyes softening completely as he leans down to press a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. "I really, really, really, really, really, really, really-"

Harry Osborn -

The creative writing seminar at Empire State University was the last place you expected to find and meet Harry Osborn

While you sat near the window

Harry sat in the back row, wearing an impeccably tailored charcoal coat over a designer turtleneck

He looked bored

Constantly checking a silver watch that probably cost more than your tuition

You, embracing a whimsical, beach-y vibe in a flowing sea-foam green skirt and knitted cream cardigan, where practically his aesthetic polar opposite

When the professor announced a mandatory semester-long partner project, you let out a soft sigh

Looking around, your eyes ended up finding his

It was an unspoken little thing

He dragged his feet over to your desk, dropping his expensive leather bag onto the chair beside you

"Look," He said, rubbing the back of his neck with a weary chuckle, "I’m only in this class for the elective credits. My dad thinks I need to 'expand my horizons,' but I have zero interest in pouring my soul onto a page."

You arched an eyebrow, a flicker of your own stubbornness rising

"Perfect," You muttered, before opening your notebook, "Please, don't complain while I do the heavy lifting."

It wasn't exactly a warm introduction

Total frenemies from day one

The "frenemy" dynamic quickly morphed into a fierce, banter-filled rhythm once you got more used to him

You’d meet at a quiet diner near campus where you’d pull out your messy notebooks, and Harry would order espresso after espresso

At first, he just watched you fall into your flow state, completely captivated by how your fingers flew across the paper

And how you would softly hum pop melodies under your breath when you got stuck

"You’re doing that humming thing again," He’d tease, leaning across the vinyl booth, a classic smirk playing on his lips, "It’s distracting."

You’d shoot him a playful glare, poking him with the cap of your pen

"It’s my process, Harry."

Eventually, your fierce optimism broke through his wealthy, guarded armor

You started forcing him to write the dialogue for the characters, and to your surprise, he was actually incredibly perceptive

When you found out he was struggling under the immense pressure of Norman Osborn's expectations

Your innate social work instincts kicked in

You didn't treat him like an heir

You treated him like Harry

You started bringing him homemade lemon bars, checking in on him with a gentle, genuine care that he wasn't used to receiving

By the middle of the semester, the sharp edges of your banter had softened into a deep, protective friendship

You’d walk through the city parks together

Talking about everything and nothing

It happened late one Tuesday evening in November

You had stayed late at the campus library finalizing your project, and as you walked out, the sky completely opened up

You didn't have an umbrella, and your hair was quickly getting soaked

Suddenly, a sleek black town car pulled up to the curb, and Harry burst out of the back seat, holding a massive umbrella over your head before you could even register his presence

He was wearing a classic, dark woolen trench coat, his own hair slightly damp

"Are you crazy? You're going to catch a cold," He scolded, but his voice was entirely devoid of malice

It was pure, unfiltered worry

As he adjusted the umbrella, his hand brushed against yours, and your breath hitched

You looked up into his eyes, noticing the subtle, golden-brown flecks in them, and your heart did a violent flip

Harry froze, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back to your green eyes

The sheer intensity of how deeply he cared about your well-being

This rich, complicated boy who pretended not to care about anything

Made you realize you were completely, utterly a goner

The project was graded, and you earned a flawless 'A'

To celebrate, Harry invited you over to his massive Penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park

It was a dizzying, luxurious space, but you brought your usual whimsical warmth into it, kicking off your shoes and sitting cross-legged on his plush sofa

Harry was pacing the hardwood floor, a glass of water in his hand, looking uncharacteristically nervous

He wasn't wearing his usual structured blazers; he just had on a soft gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms

"We got the grade," Harry said suddenly, stopping in front of you, "Which means the project is officially over. And I... I realized I don't have a reason to force you to sit in diners with me anymore."

You smiled softly, "Harry, I don't need a class assignment to want to hang out with you."

He stepped closer, sitting down, his hands reaching out to gently clasp your hands

"No, you don't get it. I don't want to just 'hang out' anymore. Watching you write, watching how much you care about people... It’s messed me up. I’ve never met anyone as hopeful and bright as you. I'm in love with you, and it terrifies me, but I can't keep pretending you’re just my partner for a class."

The raw vulnerability in his voice made you instantly beam

"Finally." You say

Dating Harry Osborn is a whirlwind of intense devotion and protective romance

And don't forget, he is a bit of a charmer

Will charm your socks off

Because of his family status, he deals with a lot of dark, heavy press, but you are his absolute sun

You balance his cynicism with your beautiful, unyielding optimism

He loves taking you to private, empty beaches on Long Island during the off-season to cater to your beachy aesthetic

You’ll walk along the shoreline, the wind blowing your long hair, while he wraps his heavy designer coat around your shoulders, holding you tight against his side

He’ll even let you drag him into the sand to do spontaneous, silly dances to whatever pop song is stuck in your head, laughing like a carefree kid

Sandcastles

Harry expresses his love through luxurious but deeply thoughtful gifts

Knowing your love for writing, he buys you a vintage, restored Tiffany-blue typewriter, alongside endless stacks of high-end parchment

He also buys you delicate, handmade silver jewelry

Specifically a gorgeous, intricately designed belly button ring featuring a tiny, sparkling emerald to match your eyes

Evenings are spent in his penthouse, completely shut off from the rest of the chaotic world

You’ll put on a classic 70s rock vinyl, and you’ll coax him into slow-dancing with you across the marble kitchen floor

He will rest his large hands on your waist, pulling your frame flush against him, burying his face into the crook of your neck while you softly sing the lyrics into his ear

When you get into your writing flow state, Harry refuses to disturb you

He will quietly bring you fresh cups of chamomile tea, gently kissing the top of your head, and sit across the room just watching you with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration

Harry is incredibly protective

If you’re out in public and your social anxiety starts to creep in due to a crowd, he will immediately notice the shift in your posture

He’ll loop his arm firmly around your waist, pull you close, and whisper, "I've got you. Let’s get out of here," instantly taking control so you can relax

~~~

~~~

X-Men;

Warren Worthington III (Angel) -

(I based him more in the comics rather than movies)

Joining the X-Men as a mutant was intimidating, but your deeply empathetic nature made you adapt quickly to the Xavier Institute

You were a social work major before your powers manifested, and that innate desire to care for others carried right into your training

One afternoon, after a grueling session, you walked out into the courtyard to clear your head

You were wearing a breezy, whimsical white sundress that contrasted beautifully with your fair skin, your brown waves bouncing with every step

That’s when you saw him

Warren Worthington III was perched on the stone wall of the estate, his massive, breathtaking white feathered wings stretched out to catch the afternoon sun

It was like he was sunning

Like a big cat

He looked effortlessly regal, wearing a casual blue button-down shirt that was custom-slit in the back to accommodate his wings

He caught you staring and let out a somewhat arrogant, guarded chuckle

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," He called out

You didn't shrink back from his wealthy, defensive tone

Instead, you smiled warmly, your green eyes bright. "I was actually just wondering how much preening those take. It looks like a lot of upkeep."

Warren blinked, utterly thrown off by your lack of fear and your lighthearted, whimsical-shy energy

He folded his wings neatly against his back, stepping down to properly greet the intriguing new mutant

Because you are naturally more introverted, you preferred the quiet corners of the mansion, which perfectly aligned with Warren’s tendency to isolate himself high above the ground

Your friendship blossomed in the most unexpected places

The roof of the school, the high branches of the old oak trees, and the quiet library

You became his safe haven

As someone used to people either exploiting his wealth or fearing his mutation, your genuine, unselfish care was like water in a desert

You would sit out on the balcony for hours with him

You’d put on your earbuds, sharing one earbud with him so you could both listen to your favorite upbeat pop tracks or nostalgic rock anthems

You would sing along softly, your sweet voice drifting into the open air, and Warren would just sit there, completely mesmerized by your absolute joy

When your social anxiety would flare up after heavy X-Men missions, Warren would notice instantly

Without a word, he would step in front of you, using his massive, soft wings like a physical shield to block you from the rest of the chaotic room, giving you a private, safe space to breathe

He'd eve let you touch them, if it'd help you

Your feelings for the high-flying mutant deepened over a span of several months

It culminated on a trip to the mutant safe-haven shores

You loved anything beach-y, and being near the ocean always filled you with a profound sense of whimsical optimism

You were standing at the edge of a high cliff overlooking the crashing waves, the salty breeze whipping through your hair

Warren landed softly behind you, his wings kicking up a small flurry of dust

"Want a better view?" He asked, his tone unusually soft, his blue eyes searching yours

You nodded eagerly

He stepped close, wrapping his strong, muscular arms securely around your waist, pulling you against his chest

With a powerful leap, you were airborne

The sensation of flying with him was pure magic

You let out a bright, joyful laugh, embracing the absolute whimsy of the moment

Warren looked down at you, seeing the pure, hopeful wonder in your green eyes, and he realized he never wanted to let you go

Holding you in the sky felt more natural than flying alone ever had

The confession took place in the school’s massive glass greenhouse during a quiet evening

You had set up a little writing nook among the tropical plants, completely lost in your flow state, typing a story about a world where mutants and humans lived in perfect harmony

Your trademark optimism shining through every sentence

Warren flew in through the glass ceiling joists, landing quietly on the grass

He watched you for a long moment before walking over

He had brought you a gift: a rare, delicate orchid that was a stunning shade of sea-foam green

As you stood up to take it, your fingers brushed, and the air grew thick with unspoken tension

"You always look at the world like it can be saved," Warren murmured, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a stray wave behind your ear, "It makes me believe it, too."

You smiled, your heart hammering against your ribs

"We have to stay hopeful, Warren."

He shook his head, a vulnerable smile breaking across his handsome face

"No, I mean- You’re my anchor, even when I’m thousands of feet in the air."

You placed the orchid onto the table, instantly stepping into his space to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a breathless, sweet kiss

Dating Warren is an elevated, deeply romantic experience

He treats you like absolute royalty, but he completely cherishes your down-to-earth, deeply caring soul

Midnight flights are a regular occurrence

He will carry you up above the clouds where the moon illuminates your hair, and you’ll just drift together in the quiet night sky

He also loves taking you on private yacht dates to secluded beaches, letting you swim and dance in the surf while he watches from the shore, his wings spread wide in absolute contentment

Warren loves spoiling you with delicate items that match your beach-y, whimsical aesthetic

He gifts you a stunning silver belly button ring shaped like a tiny set of angel wings, encrusted with small aquamarine stones

He also finances a beautiful, private community project you designed for underprivileged mutant youth, honoring your social work dreams

A deeply intimate part of your relationship involves you helping him take care of his wings

He will sit on the floor of his quarters, and you will sit behind him, gently running a soft brush through his feathers, checking for any injuries from missions

Your deeply caring nature makes this a therapeutic ritual for him

He will literally purr with contentment under your touch

When you’re both exhausted, you’ll curl up in his massive bed

Because he’s so large and his wings take up space, he will literally wrap one of his wings entirely over you like a soft, heavy, living blanket, tucking you perfectly against his side while you fall asleep listening to his steady heartbeat

Warren is incredibly protective of your physical and emotional space

If he sees you getting overwhelmed by the high-stress environment of the X-Mansion

He will casually sweep you up into his arms, ignore whatever meeting is happening, and fly you right up to the quiet roof so you can self-regulate in peace

~~~

~~~

Stranger Things;

Steve Harrington -

It was the summer

And you were working a college summer internship at Hawkins' local independent radio station, alongside Robin Buckley

You loved the job because it perfectly combined your love for music, especially pop and classic rock, with your introverted preference for being behind the scenes rather than center stage

You were in the middle of a shift, your brown waves tied up in a messy scrunchie, wearing a beach-y cropped pastel tee and high-waisted shorts

You were completely in your element, dancing around the soundboard to a Madonna track, when the heavy studio door swung open

In walked Robin, closely followed by Steve Harrington, who was wearing his classic polo and carrying a box of donuts

He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you dropped your arms, blushing furiously at being caught dancing

"Uh, Robin, you didn't tell me you hired a literal pop star," Steve blurted out, a wide, boyish grin instantly spreading across his face

Robin rolled her eyes into another dimension

"Steve, don't be creepy. This is my friend from the station. She actually knows how to run the soundboard, unlike you, who can barely operate a VHS rewinder."

Steve just chuckled, stepping forward and extending a hand, his gaze warm and incredibly charming, "I'm Steve. Nice to meet you."

Because you worked so closely with Robin, Steve became a permanent fixture in your life

He would constantly drop by the radio station under the guise of "bringing Robin lunch," but within a week, it became glaringly obvious he was actually there to see you

You were naturally introverted and struggled with occasional social anxiety

But Steve’s easygoing, grounded presence made it incredibly easy to talk to him

You started hanging out with them, which slowly turned into you and Steve spending hours together after Robin’s shift ended

You would bring your writing notebooks

Your fierce, hopeful optimism was a breath of fresh air to him after all the trauma Hawkins had put him through

You’d ramble about your social work classes and how much you wanted to help kids, and Steve would stop, completely captivated by your loving heart

"You’re gonna be amazing at that, you know," He’d say softly, his voice devoid of any pretense, "Those kids are gonna be lucky to have you."

In return, you’d help him pick out movies, curating specialized lists of whimsical comedies and classic rock concert tapes for him to watch

Singing along to the store's background music while he watched you with a growing, quiet adoration

Your feelings for the former King of Hawkins solidified during a violent summer thunderstorm

You were working the late-night solo shift at the radio station, and the loud cracks of thunder, combined with the eerie, empty building, were starting to trigger a massive wave of anxiety

You were huddled in the breakroom, trying to focus on your writing to get into a flow state, when you heard the front door rattle

You panicked, grabbing a heavy tape reel, only for Steve to burst through the door, dripping wet, his hair completely ruined by the rain

He was breathless. "Hey, hey, it’s just me," He said instantly, seeing your wide green eyes and pale skin

He dropped his keys and walked right over to you

"The storm knocked out the power on my street, and I knew you were working the late shift alone. So... I drove over."

He sat down on the floor right next to you, completely unbothered by his wet clothes

He pulled a spare blanket from a random low cupboard over your shoulders and reached out, gently rubbing your arm

The sheer, protective warmth radiating from him

The fact that he drove through a storm just so you wouldn't have to be anxious alone

Made your heart ache with a fierce, undeniable love

The confession happened right after Steve officially secured his job as the assistant basketball coach at Hawkins High

He had called you, sounding incredibly ecstatic, and told you to meet him in the empty school gym

Steve was standing in the center of the court, spinning a basketball on his finger, wearing a red Hawkins athletic jacket

When he saw you, he dropped the ball, a massive, triumphant smile breaking across his face

"I got it," He said, jogging over to you. "Coach Harrington is officially on the payroll."

You let out a joyful laugh, instantly throwing your arms around his waist

"Steve! I’m so incredibly proud of you! I knew you’d get it!"

You were radiating that beautiful, hopeful sunshine energy that he loved so much

Steve caught you by the waist, lifting you off the ground

As he set you down, he didn't let go

His hands lingered on your hips, his gaze dropping to your lips before looking deeply into your eyes

"I couldn't have done it without you," He whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "You're the only one who kept telling me I could actually be something good. I’m completely crazy about you"

You beamed, pulling him down by his collar to kiss him thoroughly, the empty gym echoing with your shared happiness

Dating Steve Harrington is a beautifully secure, protective, and energetic romance

He is immensely proud to be your boyfriend, and he treats you with a soft, chivalrous reverence that makes everyone in Hawkins swoon

He loves taking you out for diner lunches, proudly holding your hand across the table

And paying for everything with his new coaching paycheck

On weekends, he takes you out to the quarry or the nearby lakes for beach-y picnics, letting you blast your favorite pop music from his car stereo while you both dance like total idiots on the grass, completely unbothered by the world

Steve is a very attentive boyfriend

Knowing how much you love music and dancing, he buys you a brand-new, high-end portable Walkman with custom-painted pastel sea-foam designs on the casing

He also surprises you with a delicate silver chain necklace that has a small, whimsical anchor charm on it, telling you it’s a reminder that you are his home

A favorite domestic ritual takes place in his bedroom

Steve is notoriously obsessed with his hair, but he completely surrenders his styling tools to you

He will sit on the floor between your knees while you sit on his bed, gently combing through his famous locks

On evenings when you have a late shift at the radio station, Steve will bring a pillow and a blanket and camp out on the studio floor

While you’re in your zone, writing scripts or mixing tracks, he will just lay there, watching you with a soft smile, occasionally reaching up to gently tug on your skirt or your hand just to get a quick kiss when you walk past the desk

Because you are an introvert who deals with occasional social anxiety, Steve is your ultimate shield

At loud college or local parties your friends force you to, he will constantly keep a protective arm securely wrapped around your waist or shoulders

The second he feels your posture stiffen, he’ll lean down, press a sweet kiss to your temple, and whisper, "Hey, let's get out of here. Let's go listen to that new tape you got."

He will happily leave any crowd just to go make you a cup of tea and cuddle on the couch

~~~