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Hello! I would like a platonic and romantic match up with Harry Potter, Stranger things, and Marvel!!
I am 18 years old, a lesbian, and I am 4'10. I have mid length blonde hair that I always usually style in a blowout, or very whimsy like hairstyles. I love dressing up in whimsy grunge or coquette clothes, or bright coloured clothes. I really like dresses, and femininity, and my favourite colour is pink.
My eyes are blue, I occasionally wear glasses that have thin rims, which are also gold and rose gold.
My hobbies are drawing, singing, dancing, doing musical theatre and acting, I also really love cooking and baking and doing my makeup and hair.
Personality wise, I am very talkative and essy to talk too, kind, sensitive, I am very extroverted, but I can get really nervous in a new setting with a lot of people I don't know, but it doesnt last long. I can always tell when someone isnt feeling their best and what emotion they are feeling, and I can mask how I feel very well.
I hope this is enough information and it follows your rules, and thank you if u write it!!
Hello, Anon!
Unfortunately my matchup inbox is closed for the time being, but I'll hold your request for when I reopen it, and it will be the first that I do in the new running.
Hello! I would like a platonic and romantic match up with Harry Potter, Stranger things, and Spiderverse
I'm a 17 year old that goes by She/Them and Bisexual, I have a decent body with decent amount of muscles that I can easily carry things.
My hobbies are animal research, history, mythology, and stories, I am also a writer, I like all kind of music but leaning more on the kind of music like Yaelokre and such, I like puzzles, crimes, collector and a horder, my fashion is grunge, I like to have a necklace and many bracelets, I also am very fond of earrings, I like to have my headphones on me at all times, plus, I am very fond of cameras and old items.
Personality, I am sarcastic and at first meeting you would mistaken me as a know-it-all or what all my friends would say when they first met me, I'm generally quiet but I also talk alot, I also say things that I know I shouldn't when I am under pressure and I also have a fear of public speaking.
I hope this is alright and up to the rules, I would like to apologise if it isn't.
Hello!
I am so sorry for the wait!
<333333
I really hope you like your matches!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic and Platonic Matchups; Harry Potter, Stranger Things, and Spiderverse
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
Harry Potter;
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
You’ll bounce story ideas off him, and he’ll give you completely unhinged, anti-establishment plot twists
Heyy, i just wanted to lyk that i'm the person who sent in the request you posted for Dc, Harry Potter and Stranger Things (the one with hypermobility)- As a Wally West fan, THANK YOU, because he really does not get enough love for these sorts of things (:
Hi!
<333
I am so glad you like Wally, I love him too. He's one of my favorites! And yes, he doesn't get enough love around here, which saddens me, since he is such a great character, especially in Justice League Unlimited! I am so glad that you liked your matches, and thank you for your support!
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Omg hi, i'm the Anonymous with 7 different cacti...Holy crap!🥰🤩THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH !! I especially love that you did angst with one and the sweetest fluffy lovestory with another!✨️✨️✨️🎉💖
Hi! I am so, so happy that you liked your matchups! And yes, I am trying to do new ideas, allowing myself to try out angsty matches along with my fluffy; I just love the vibes for both, and I really enjoyed writing them for you <333
If you ever want more, I plan on opening my inbox again soon!
Hiiiiii i'd love a match up if that's okay?😁 I'm looking for romantic match ups with either men or women from Harry Potter & Spiderverse ^^
I'm a 16 year old 5'4 pansexual who uses she/they. I have light brown hair that i usually wear tied to the back of my neck but if it's down naturally it sort of falls into a bob cut. I love to wear hair accessories and rings and necklaces in bright yellows and blues- i dont have a ton of money but I love collecting trinkets to wear, especially because I go to alot of festivals through the year🎊.
I'm part of the eco club at school and i'm a big fan of plants and taking care of them (evidenced with the 7 different cacti im currently taking care of🌵). I've been told that i'm very loud and extroverted, usually a bit too much, but I dont mind because a few of my friends are introverts so we gell really well when I yap loads and they listen ✨️
Some things I really like are drum & bass music, club raves, festival food, arts and crafts, sunflowers, manga and cheerleading (i used to be in a team before I quit for more time for eco club ❤️). I really dislike people who wont let others express themselves and those who think that hurting the world and animals is okay ): I do my best to be patient with everyone but i'm very loyal and have gotten into a fair bit of trouble for starting fights to stick up for my friends🥲 I look forward to seeing your matchups for me TYSM!😁😁
Hi!
<333
I am so sorry for the long wait!
I really hope you like your matches!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic Matchups; Harry Potter and Spiderverse
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
Harry Potter;
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
For those waiting for a matchup they requested, I just got back into the flow of writing. I've been super busy with new kittens! But I am back to going through the requests that I have and getting them done. Sadly, I won't be doing the added aesthetics to the matchups anymore. I think I might keep that idea for matchups during the holidays, maybe.
I am going to try and get through the matchups that I have and open the inbox back up soon. At this point in my life, however, I do not think I will be reopening my fanfic inbox, nor even write fanfics and post them... I've not been in the best mindset for writing full length things at the moment, and that saddens me, but hopefully one day I can write them again.
I plan to reopen the matchup inbox either in July or August!
Thank y'all for always supporting me in my endeavors and being there!
I hope all of your pillows are cold and your blankets fluffy <3
Hi hi, i saw that your requests were open and i'd like to request a match up (romantic) with guys from DC, Harry Potter and Stranger Things.
Age: 17
Pronouns & Sexuality: He/Him, Queer with masc preference
Physical details: Short dark brown mullet with blonde dyed tips, grey eyes, lightly freckled face and hands, very thin and pale skinned from an unfortunate ED, cane user to help with hypermobility
Personality & Interests: i'm a big nerd, meaning I love superhero comics and supernatural tv shows and delving into fandoms a lot. I write my own fanfics and spent a few years engaging in fandom RP as well. I'm autistic but high masking so I try to adjust my personality to my environment but overall i'd say i value intelligent conversation and routine a lot as well as company who also enjoy binging their favourite media as opposed to going on long days out.
I wear a lot of monochrome clothes with some green (my favourite colour) and prefer to wear things such as denim shorts and a big hoodie and trainers. They're simplistic but comfortable clothing choices that i'll wear in various different ways (Like i said, I like routine). I really dislike hights and extreme weather conditions and really like collecting cozy blankets and spicy food (especially chilli).
Thank you for answering the request, If you do so 💜
Hello!
<333
I am so sorry for the wait!
I hope you like your matches!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic Matchups; DC Comics, Harry Potter, and Stranger Things
~~~
DC Comics;
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
You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady, rapid beat of his heart as the movie played on
Hiii, i'd love to req a romantic match up if possible (: I'm 22 years old, and I'd love to be matched with either a guy or gal from DC comics and marvel ^^
I'm a Bisexual cis girl who's roughly 5'4, very pale skinned with shoulder-length red-dyed hair and dark blue eyes. I have quite a few tattoos, mostly of flowers in black and white, on my arms and circular silver glasses.
Personality wise i'd say i'm really creative, I love to draw and doodle tattoo ideas or sketch in my dozens of drawing pads in my spare time and do a lot of stitching onto clothes that I thrift and find at charity sales.
I wear a lot of baggy clothes because i'm ADHD and prefer loose clothing- usually things that end up covered in charcoal from my art.
I dont have a lot of friends but the few I do have all say that im a bit of an Introvert and like to regularly joke that I cant hurt a fly. I have two dogs and love animals so i'm also sometimes called a bit of a softie ^^"
I cant wait to see what match up i might get! Tysm!
Hello!
<333
I am sorry for the wait!
I really hope you like your matches!
<333
Enjoy!
Romantic Matchups; DC Comics and Marvel
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
DC Comics;
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-"
"Okay, okay, I get it." You jokingly pushed him away before pulling him back in
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hi! ive seen your matchups and they are so thoughtful and detailed! id like to request one if thats okay <3
id like a romantic matchup for marvel, xmen, and stranger things. im 19 and my pronouns are she/her! id like male matchups pleasee <3 i have light brown hair, wavy & layered down to mid-back. i have green eyes and fair skin, and im 5'3. i have a nostril and belly button piercing!
im in college majoring in social work. i love anything musical. singing & dancing brings me joy and i love embracing that kind of whimsical vibe. pop is my fav genre, but i listen to some rock & others too! i also adore writing, its definitely what gets me into flow state the most. i love anything beachy/whimsical aesthetic wise, i love optimism and anything hopeful really 😭. i love caring for my loved ones, they mean so much to me and i try to be as loving as possible. im def more of an introvert, but i care deeply for anyone who means something to me.
thank you soooo much if you do my request!! 🩷
Hi!
<3333
I would love to write you a couple matchups!
(Spoiler Alert: They are all rich! Coincidentally)
I really hope you like them!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic Matchups; Marvel, X-Men, and Stranger Things
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
Marvel;
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
You wrote character matches for me a few months(?) ago and I just wanted to say that they still make me so happy. I have them saved on my notes app to read whenever I want and I always end up with the biggest smile when I do. Thank you for sharing your talents and brightening so many people’s days! 💛
Hi! Welcome back, anon!
Oh my gosh, this genuinely means so much to me <3 Knowing something I wrote could keep making you smile months later is such a special feeling, and I’m really grateful you took the time to tell me this. Thank you for being so sweet and for supporting my writing; messages like this seriously brighten my whole day! <33333
can u match me up (mha, hetero if possible !! I’m a woman btw)
I’m 5’7, I’m pale faced and I have middle length wavy dark brown hair. I have freckles and green eyes, and I’m mostly quiet. But I’m reallyy hyperactive and stuff, like to the point that my friends think i’m on drugs all the time lolll. I’m slim, borderline underweight (not a flex) and I really love music tbh. To my personality, as I said, I’m mostly quiet but hyper with certain people. Im a bigggg people pleaser, and I love cats. People often laugh at my jokes, and yeahhh (btw ily if u reply !!!)
Hello! I just wanted to let you know that am not doing MHA matches anymore. I removed that fandom from my fandom list during March so only those who requested during the month of March are able to have MHA; since they requested MHA before I took it off. I am so sorry, but maybe there is/are different fandom(s) you'd like to have instead. Also please make sure to follow my matchup rules if you request again, you are missing a few things! Thank you!
Quick little thing! I have added DreamWorks to the Matchup Fandom List! I can't believe I didn't have it on there to begin with! So, I will be opening my matchup inbox for only until Friday to allow those who want to ask for DreamWorks a chance, or anyone else who just found me!
(If anyone has any requests for fandoms I should add, let me know in my inbox, messages, or comments; depending on it, I may add it!
Matchups will close on Friday 15th, 2026!
If you have any questions or anything, message me!
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Hi darling i loveeed the 2 other macthups that u did for me before but could i get another One please ✨? For Harry Potter,The Hobbit and Disney? (Romantic and platónic )
I am 22y Infp goth lesbian , i am mixed (Portuguese , Cape Verdean and Moroccan)
Looks
I am 1.78cm ( i think it's 5ft10)My skin colour i would say it's like coffe skin/ milk chocolate skin , i am elegant but with a big chest ,My natural hair is a very dark brown (almost black) and very curly but also i had dyed red , purple , blue before and even when i do my box braids they are Always colourfull . I Said before i am goth and my stlyle it's more vampire , romantic and whimsygoth. I Always wear cristal braceletes ,silver rings and i love this silver moon belt and i am a an Hellenic pagan polytheistic
Hobbies/ what i like
My fav colours are purple and black and blue My favorite animals are cats , owls ,meerkats my favorite movies directors are tim Burton and guilhermo del Toro ,My favorite hobbies are listenig to music , watch movies/shows, to dance specially belly dance , i loveeee to sleep , i loveeee going to museums and history , love The 70s/80s pop and rock i love art in general .i really want to Archery on day . Love nature , i am obessedd with perfumes The one that i use The most is coconut passion by Victoria secrets but i dying to put My hand on very good girl by Carolina Herrera, and elish n1 and your Turn by Billie elish. My favorite fruits are coconut and mango . And my favorite flowers are white and blue Roses and Hyacinth (specially purple) some of My favorite movies are crimson peak, corpse bride, sleppy hollow, from hell , The mummy , Hércules from Disney .
Personality
My friends day that i and únic , have The energy of a black cat but sweet and kind to them , they also say that i am witchy , Intelligent , loyal and sarcastic
Thanks and i hope that you have an amazing day 💜🖤
Hello, again! Welcome back!
<333
I hope you like your matches I made for you!
I had an absolute blast writing these, especially your Harry Potter best friend, probs my fav storyline to date!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic and Platonic Matchups; Harry Potter, The Hobbit, and Disney
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
Harry Potter;
Narcissa Black (Malfoy) -
(Eva Green as young Marauders Era Narcissa Black fancast)
It was the dead of winter
You were tucked away in the corner of the Astronomy Tower
The hem of your velvet whimsygoth skirts pooling around your boots
You were wearing your signature silver moon belt and a stack of crystal bracelets that clinked softly
A small, rebellious act of your devotion in a castle full of traditions
You had just lit a candle when the heavy door creaked open
Narcissa Black stepped in, looking like a statue of ice and perfection
Her blonde hair was pinned back with a silver serpent clip
And her Slytherin robes were pristine
Perfect as always
She froze when she saw you
A vision in dark lace and colorful box braids that shimmered blue and purple under the moonlight
"This tower is meant for observation, not... Whatever ritual you've decided to perform." She said, her voice a cool, practiced drawl
You didn't flinch
You simply offered a sarcastic tilt of your head
"It's called honoring, Black. Though I suppose you're used to people only bowing down to your family name."
Narcissa didn't leave
Instead, she sat on the bench across from you
Mesmerized by the scent of your perfume and the sheer audacity of your presence
The friendship was a slow burn
Narcissa was intrigued by your black cat energy
The way you were fiercely intelligent and fiercely independent
You began meeting in the library, specifically in the history section
You would whisper about ancient civilizations while she watched you trace the illustrations of Greek ruins in your books
She loves your sarcasm
It was a sharp contrast to the sycophantic behavior she dealt with in the Slytherin common room
You taught her about the thing the Wizarding World didn't
You'd show her sketches of Tim Burton-esque characters you'd drawn in the margins of your Transfiguration notes
Explaining the beauty in the macabre
In return, she would help you with your chrams
Her slender fingers occasionally brushing against yours
You'd spend hours discussig the art in the Great Hall
Or you'd sneak into the music room where you'd teach her the rhythmic movements of belly dancing
A style so different from the rigid ballroom steps she was raised with
She would watch you move
Breathless
As your moon belt jingled in the silence of the room
The shift happened when the topic of the future arose
Everyone knew Narcissa was promised to Lucius Malfoy
It was a political move, a bloodline security done by both parents
But the more time she spent with you
Watching you stim by fiddling with your silver rings
Or listening to you ramble about the conversation of owls
The more the Malfoy name felt like a noose
One evening, you were sitting by the Black Lake
The sun setting in shades of purple
You were wearing a heavy, romantic-goth cloak
And you had brought a mango to share
As you sliced it with a silver fruit knife, Narcissa watched you
"Have you... Always smelled so intoxicating?" She whispered, leaning in closer than she ever had
The scent of coconut and your skin distracting
You looked at her, your dark brown eyes piecrcing through her cold exterior
"Of coconut? I guess so." You replied
You reached out and placed a flower behind her ear
The contrast of the blue of the rose against her pale blonde hair
What a vision
She realized then that she didn't want a manor
She wanted this
The girl who spoke to the moon and knew the names of the stars
The confession came on a night of high tension
A pureblood gala was approaching
And Lucius had sent Narcissa emerald jewelry
She brought them to you in the Room of Requirement
Which had manifested as a gothic study filled with velvet couches and candles
She threw the jewelry on the table with a rare show of her temper
"I can't do it. I can't marry a man who looks at me as a throphy when you look at me like I am a Goddess."
You stood up, your silver moon belt catching the candlelight
"Then don't." You said softly
Narcissa stepped into your space, her hands trembling as she touched your face
"I am a Black. My life is already written out for me."
You leaned in, your lips brushing hers, "Then let's rewrite it."
She kissed you then
A forbidden kiss
"I love you," She breathed out, "I love your mind, your loyalty... I would rather be an outcast than a Queen of blood and darkness."
Being in a secret, forbidden relationship with Narcissa was like living in a high-stakes spy novel
In public, you were both just best friends
In private, she was all yours
You would sneak out to the Room of Requirement to practice archery together
You'd guide her hands, your chest pressing against her back as you showed her how to aim for the center of the target
She loves the power of the bow
And you loved the focus in her eyes
She would buy your the most expensive perfumes
You would give her handmade crystal bracelets or dried purple hyacinths pressed between the pages of books
Since you both love to sleep, rainy Saturday afternoons were spent napping in the hidden corners of the library or the Room of Requirement
She would wrap herself around you
Her head resting on your chest or shoulder
~~~
The Hobbit;
Tauriel -
The meeting wasn't one of chance
But of duty
As an enchantress of the Woodland Realm
Your presence was a necessity to King Thranduil
Though your black cat energy often clashed with the cold regidity of the palace
You walked the halls of Mirkwood with an air of dark elegance
You were never seen without wearing your silver rings, moon belt, and your dark, layered skirts
You were heading to the throne room to deliver a vision when you saw her
Tauriel was standning guard
Her auburn hair a vibrant contrast to the mossy stone
She blocked your path, not out of malice, "The King is in a foul temper today, Seer." She said, her voice stead but her eyes curious as they raked over your colorful hair and your dark clothing
You offered her a sarcastic smirk, adjusting your bracelets
"When is he not, Captain? I have news of the spiders' movements. Unless you'd like to explain to him why his Seer was left standing in the corridor like a common beggar."
Tauriel let out a rare, amused huff, stepping aside, "I would rather face a troop or Orcs. Pass through, Enchantress."
That spark of mutual wit was the beginning of a bond
Your friendship flourished in the quiet spaces between battles and prophecies
Tauriel was fascinated by your lifestyle
You spent hours sitting on the high branches of the forest, where you taught her all you knew
She loved your intelligence
To Tauriel's delight, you eventually confessed your desire to learn archery
The first time she put her bow in her hands, she stood close behind you, her cool hands guiding yours
"Steady your breath." She whispered, her chin nearly resting on your shoulder
Tauriel found herself lingering in your space, captivated by you
Especially when you made sarcastic comments every time you missed the target
She'd chuckle, a bright sound, and pull another arrow from her quiver for you
The feelings grew like the purple hyacinths you tended to in your private sanctuary
For Tauriel, it was the way you looked when you were in a trance - fierce and ethereal - and the way you softened completely when you were around her
She began to notice the little things
The way your silver moon belt glimmered in the dark
The clink of your rings when you danced
You had performed a belly dance for her once by a secluded forest pool, the movements fluid and mesmerizing
Tauriel had sat in silence, her heart hammering against her ribs, realizing that her loyalty was shifting from the crown to the woman dancing in the pure moonlight
For you, it was Tauriel’s protective nature
She knew you got overstimulated by the heavy, oppressive energy of Thranduil’s court, and she would often "abduct" you for patrol just to get you into the fresh air
One evening, after a particularly grueling session with the King, she brought you a bouquet of blue and white roses she had found in a hidden glade
"They reminded me of you." She said, her usual stoicism faltering into a shy smile
As you took the flowers, your fingers brushed hers, and the air between you hummed with a magic more potent than any spell you had ever cast
You realized then that you didn't just want her as a guard; you wanted her as your eternal companion
The confession happened on a night when the forest felt heavy
You were exhausted
Your energy drained from a vision of a coming war
You were tucked away in your quarters, surrounded by your favorite things
Tauriel entered quietly, her hair windblown and her armor dirty from patrol
She saw you sitting on your bed, looking small
She crossed the room in three strides to pull you into her arms
"I cannot bear to see you so weary." She murmured, her face buried into your hair
You leaned into her, "It's the price of seeing too much."
She pulled you back to see your eyes, her hands cupping your face
You could feel it
The love that she held for you
And you hoped to the Gods that she felt yours too
Oh... She felt it
Your relationship is a beautiful blend
Tauriel is incredibly devoted
Often acting as your anchor when your visions become too much
You’ve finally mastered the bow under her tutelage
And you often go on long walks where you’ll find a spot to sleep in the sun
You love your rest, and Tauriel is more than happy to keep watch over you
Tauriel is a master crafter
She made you a custom bow carved with lunar phases to match your belt
You have velvet tapestries, flickering candles, and bowls of mango and coconut always at hand
She calls you "Nin Meleth"
When she returns from the borders, the first thing she does is find you
She’ll lift you up, and bury her face in your neck
~~~
Disney;
Megara -
The Underworld was never known for its hospitality
But for you, it was better than the judgemental whispers of your old town
You had been roped into Hades' service after your townspeople grew wary of your ways and your devotion to old Gods
You left; having grown bored, powerful, and frankly, done with mortals
You were lounging on a jagged obsidian throne
Wearing a velvet black dress that hugged your body
Your braids draped over your shoulder
When Hades' sashayed in with a new soul in tow
Megara looked like a wilted violet
Her eyes tired and her spirit crushed by a mortal man
She looked around the gloom with a cynical sneer that mirrored your own
Hades gestured toward you with a flaming hand
"Sweetheart, meet Meg. Meg, meet the only other person in this pit who isn't a total snooze-fest. Try not to kill each other. At least not during office hours."
You stood up, your silver belt jingling and your bracelets catching the light
You didn't give her a pitying look
"Don't worry too much, Meg. The boss is often too busy talking to himself to notice of we slack off."
Meg's eyes flickered over your attire with a hint of curiosity
"A witch and a woman who sold her soul walked into a bar," She quipped, her voice smooth and dry, "Usually, that joke ends with a tragedy."
You smirked, "Usually."
The friendship was forged in the fire of shared cynicism
While Hades was off plotting the demise of Olympus
You and Meg became inseparable
You finally had another woman to talk to
And Meg finally had someone who didn't want anything from her
You spent your "work hours" wandering the more aesthetic parts of the Underworld
Finding beauty in the shadows
Meg found your black cat energy very comforting
The feelings didn't hit like a lightning bolt from Zeus
They grew like a pomegranate tree
One evening, you noticed she was looking particularly down, the weight of her deal with Hades pressing on her
You decided to take her "out"
The moonlight hit your dark hair and your glowing skin, and for a moment, Meg forgot she was a prisoner
The sarcasm died in her throat
She looked at you
Really looked at you
The way you respected her space but always remained a loyal shadow at her side made her heart ache
She wasn't just Meg anymore; she was your Meg
The confession happened right after Hades had a particularly nasty outburst
Meg was shaken, feeling like she’d never be free
You found her by the river, throwing stones into the dark water
You walked up behind her, your silver moon belt gleaming in the dark
Without a word, you pulled her into a hug, letting her lean against you
"Meg," You whispered, your voice soft and devoid of its usual sarcasm, "I know why you're scared of this. I know what he did to you. But you are a strong, independent woman... Who don't need no man."
She stepped back in, burying her face in your neck, "Maybe not a man... But- I-"
"I know..." You said, "I wouldn't be a really cool and great witch if I didn't know."
Your relationship is a blend of the macabre and the deeply romantic
Since you are both black cats, you understand each other's need for space, but you are fiercely loyal
You constantly surprise her with new perfumes
She, in turn, finds you unique silver rings or rare crystals
You love to sleep, so "bed" is your sanctuary
You’ll spend entire mornings curled up together
~~~
Platonic;
~~~
Harry Potter;
Andromeda Black (Tonks) -
(Keira Knightley as young Marauders Era Andromeda Black fancast)
You and Andromeda didn't start as confidants
In fact, the first time you spoke, it was under the heavy, suffocating atmosphere of a Black Family dinner to which your family had been invited
You were dressed in a stunning, vampire-romantic gown of deep plum velvet
Andromeda noticed you immediately
She saw the way you handled your silver rings with a nervous but elegant grace
And more importantly, she saw the secret, longing glances exchanged between you and her younger sister, Narcissa
While Narcissa was the "Ice Queen"
And Bellatrix was a bit of a mad woman
Yes, even then
Andromeda was the observer
She caught you slipping away to a balcony to catch your breath from the overbearing pureblood chatter
She followed you, not to scold you
Obviously
But to offer a sanctuary
"The lavender you’re wearing is far more pleasant than the smell of old money and traditions," She teased, leaning against the stone railing
You smirked, "I find traditions are usually just excuses for people who lack imagination."
From that moment, Andromeda knew you were exactly the kind of "dangerous" influence Narcissa needed
(If only Bella could find someone now...)
She decided right then to be your shield
Your friendship with Andromeda is built on a foundation of intellectual rebellion and shared aesthetics
Since you love museums and history, Andromeda often sneaks out with you to visit "Muggle" art galleries in London
She finds your perspective on art fascinating, especially when you explain the dark, romantic beauty of Guillermo del Toro films or the whimsy of Tim Burton
You’ve spent many afternoons tucked away in a quiet corner of a library, Andromeda listening intently as you ramble about Hellenic polytheism or the historical significance of the ancient gods
She admires your loyalty to your faith
When you aren't exploring history, you’re often teaching her the basics of belly dance in the safety of a room protected by Muffliato
Soon enough, you both thought of each other as sisters
The weight of Narcissa’s betrothal to Lucius Malfoy is a constant shadow
But Andromeda has turned "accidental" sabotage into an art form
Whenever the Black parents or the Malfoys attempt to finalize wedding dates or discuss dowries, Andromeda is there to throw a wrench in the gears
She knows exactly how to push her mother’s buttons to start a family argument that distracts from the marriage contract
Often using her own "failures" as a pureblood daughter to take the heat off Narcissa
It was worth it
Once, during a formal tea where Lucius was being particularly insufferable
Andromeda managed to charm the teapot to only pour cold, murky swamp water whenever he reached for it
She caught your eye from across the room and gave a tiny, imperceptible wink as you stifled a laugh behind your hand
She’s even gone as far as "misplacing" official owl post from the Malfoy estate or suggesting that Narcissa has come down with a rare, "highly contagious" magical ailment that requires weeks of isolation
Which, of course, is just time for Narcissa to spend with you
Andromeda takes the risks because she sees the way Narcissa looks at you
She sees the warmth and the genuine smile that only you can coax out of her sister
Speaking of warmth, she needed to sneak out and see Ted again...
Since Andromeda is the only one who knows the truth, her bedroom or a secluded spot in the gardens becomes your headquarters
You spend evenings huddled together
While you and Narcissa share quiet, romantic moments, Andromeda is the one sitting at the desk with a quill, helping you calculate how many Galleons you’ve saved and where you can go once you leave
She treats your escape like a grand mission
Her loyalty to you and her sister outweighing any fear of being disowned
The day you and Narcissa finally have enough saved to disappear, Andromeda is the one who handles the logistics
She creates a diversion that is so spectacular
Perhaps a "disastrous" magical explosion in the kitchens or a false report of a family emergency elsewhere
That no one notices two girls slipping into the night
Once you and Narcissa are free, away from the clutches of the Black Family, Andromeda visits with Ted
Lots of double dates :)
You all go out for drinks, in bliss away from the weight of the Black crown
~~~
The Hobbit;
Thranduil -
You didn't arrive at the Elvenking’s Halls with a fanfare
You were found
Thranduil was on a sweep of the southern borders of Mirkwood, his silver-gold hair shimmering like a cold flame against the suffocating darkness of the forest
He found you in a clearing, draped in velvet robes of deep plum and black, your skin the color of rich espresso against the pale, sickly white of the spider-webs you were clearing
Thranduil’s sword was at your throat before his scouts could even blink
He looked down at you with that icy, detached regalness, his eyebrows slanted in a look of supreme judgment
"An enchantress," he drawled, his voice like silk over gravel, "Practicing strange rites in my woods. Give me one reason I should not leave you to the shadows."
You didn't flinch
Instead, you looked him in the eye, and told him that his favorite vintage of wine was currently turning to vinegar in his cellars
The accuracy (and the sarcasm) stunned him into a rare silence
He begrudgingly brought you back to the palace, not as a prisoner, but as a Seer he couldn't afford to let anyone else have
Imagine you in the hands of an enemy?
Ugh
The friendship was not a warm fire
For the first few decades, Thranduil treated your presence as a necessary annoyance
He would summon you to the throne room, and you would arrive smelling of expensive incense, clinking with silver rings and crystal bracelets
You were the only one who dared to be sarcastic to him
When he would lament the state of the world, you’d simply lean against a pillar, adjust your rings, and say, "Your Majesty, the world has been ending since the First Age. Perhaps try a different hobby? I hear archery is quite cathartic- You should teach me."
Over time, he began to realize that your intelligence was his greatest asset
He’d find himself seeking you out in the palace gardens not for prophecies, but for the quiet
You’d sit under the twisted oaks, and while he brooded, you’d practice your belly dancing movements, the silver charms on your belt jingling rhythmically
He begrudgingly admitted that your presence brought a sense of "stability" to his chaotic realm
Even if your personality was as unpredictable as a thunderstorm
Thranduil is a King who remembers the old world, and he was shocked to find a half-elven Seer who cared as much about the "Why" of history as the "When"
You both spent hours in the deep archives
While he looked for maps, you looked for the art
You would point out the craftsmanship in ancient jewelry, and he would find himself leaning in to listen as you talked about the symbolism of the moon and the stars
Your "domestic" life together is quiet and ritualistic
Because you love to sleep, Thranduil has learned never to summon you before the sun has reached its zenith
If he needs a prophecy at dawn, he has to come to your rooms, where he usually finds you buried under five different velvet blankets, smelling of coconut and mango
He’ll stand there, arms crossed, looking at your colorful braids peeking out from the covers, and sigh. "Enchantress. The spiders are moving. Wake up or I shall have Galion douse you in chilled spring water."
You’d just groan and throw something at him
Of course, you miss
Evenings are spent in his private chambers
No, not like that
Get your mind out of the gutter
He likes to watch you work on your altars
He’s intrigued by your devotion to the Hellenic gods
In return, you’ve become his unofficial therapist
You’re loyal to a fault, and he knows it
He tells you the things he can’t tell Legolas or his generals
His fears for his people, his grief
You listen, sometimes snarky, sometimes sweet, but always there
You finally got your wish for archery lessons
Thranduil is a perfectionist, and he nearly lost his mind when you first tried to shoot while dancing
"Focus, Seer! It is a weapon, not a prop for your theatrical displays!"
But when you finally hit the bullseye, he looked more proud than he’d ever admit
The gifts he gives you are always extravagant and perfectly tailored to your style
He’s had his finest smiths forge you a crown of silver hyacinths and black diamonds
But his most thoughtful gift was a set of glass vials
So you could try your art at making your own perfumes
"You are a Seer," He said, looking away as you gasped in delight, "You should not have to smell like a damp forest if you do not wish to."
It was the closest he would ever get to saying you were his best friend, and as you hugged him
The only person allowed to touch him without a formal bow
The Elvenking actually hugged you back
But it was very short and awkward
"Never speak of this to anyone or I'll have your tongue."
~~~
Disney;
Yzma -
You didn’t just "meet" Yzma
You were summoned
As her niece, you were sent to the palace to assist her in her "official duties"
Though everyone knew that meant helping her navigate the labyrinthine politics of Kuzco’s court
You arrived draped in your favorite layers
A black lace top over a velvet bodice that accentuated your figure, your silver moon belt cinched tight, and your colorful box braids swaying with every step
Your milk chocolate skin glowed under the flickering torches of the palace
Yzma was hunched over a bubbling cauldron in her secret lab, wearing her massive purple feathered collar and a headpiece that looked like it defied physics
When you entered, she didn't turn around immediately
She just sniffed the air
"Is that... Coconut?! Kronk, I swear if you-" She spun around, her eyes widening behind her long lashes when she saw your unique, vampire-romantic aesthetic, "Oh, it’s just you. My niece. Well, at least you have the sense to wear purple. It’s the color of power, you know! Now, come here and tell me if this potion looks more like 'Poison' or 'Pink Lemonade.' The labeling in this place is abysmal!"
Your friendship is built on a foundation of mutual eccentricity and a shared disdain for the "simple-minded"
Mostly Kuzco and, occasionally, Kronk
You were her confidante
The one person who could match her sarcastic wit with your own
While Yzma is obsessed with the throne
She loves that you are intelligent enough to understand her chemical formulas
You’d wear your silver rings and crystal bracelets, clinking softly as you sorted her vials
The bond deepened during your shared excursions
Yzma, despite her age, has a surprising amount of energy when there’s a museum involved
You would take her to the ancient archives
You’d ramble about the history you loved
One evening, you found her slumped in her chair, exhausted from another failed attempt to "eliminate" the Emperor
You didn't mock her; you simply brought her a plate of sliced mango and coconut, her favorite treats that you shared
In the quiet moments, your relationship is surprisingly sweet
Since you both love to sleep, you’ve established a "No Plotting Before Noon" rule
You’ll find Yzma in her oversized silk pajamas, and you’ll be in your gothic lounge set, both of you refusing to move until the sun is high
You’ve introduced her to the world of high-end perfumes
She loves to watch you do your makeup
You finally convinced Yzma to go outside for something other than a secret mission
You took her to the palace gardens for archery
You looked every bit the dark huntress in your silver moon belt, while Yzma wore a sun hat so large it had its own zip code
"Aim for the heart, Auntie," You’d say, adjusting her grip on the bow.
"I usually prefer a trapdoor." She’d mutter, actually hitting the target
(Though it was the wrong target... Sorry, Kronk)
You also spent time observing your favorite animals
You’d drag her to see the owls in the palace aviary
Yzma expresses her love through gifts of "functional" value
For your birthday, she didn't give you a normal necklace; she gave you an enchanted silver ring that turns bright purple if someone tries to poison your drink
She’s become fiercely loyal to you
If a courtier makes a comment about your "witchy" ways or your colorful braids, Yzma is there with a biting, sarcastic remark that sends them scurrying away
"My niece is a visionary! You, on the other hand, look like you were dressed by a blind llama!"
i'd love a (romantic + platonic) Stranger Things, Harry Potter, and Marvel matchups, please! :)
—
Age: 20
Pronouns: she/her
Match Preference: for romantic, i prefer males/i'm straight :)
Appearance: 5'2, chest-length dark brown (basically black) hair. My hair is technically straight, but it has lots of waves and very tiny curls hidden in there, so i consider it wavy lol. heart-shaped face. Very dark brown roundish eyes.
Hobbies: Singing, Acting, Reading, (belly) dancing, listening to music.
Music/Artists: mostly pop, dance/disco/r&b and stuff that makes me feel confident. I adore Sabrina Carpenter, Melanie Martinez, Madison Beer.
Favorite Colors: Brown, Red, Gold.
Hello!
<333
I would love to make you some matches!
I hope you like them!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic Matchups; Stranger Things, Harry Potter, and Marvel
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
Stranger Things;
Eddie Munson -
You were working the closing shift at Hawkins’ local record store, tucked behind the counter in a deep red cardigan
The bell chimed, and in stepped a whirlwind of leather, denim, and untamed curls
Eddie Munson didn’t just walk into a room; he invaded it
He was looking for a specific Metallica import
His rings clattering against the bins as he flipped through the 'M' section
You were huddled over a book
When he finally approached, he slammed a copy of "Kill 'Em All" onto the counter, a manic grin on his face
Your heart hammered against your ribs
Your anxiety flared because, despite the rumors of him being a "dangerous cult leader," he was just... Loud
You avoided eye contact, focusing on the price tag with your dark brown eyes shielded by your hair
"Sorry, I didn't mean to jump scare ya," Eddie teased, leaning his elbows on the counter
His voice was gravelly but oddly warm
You muttered the price, barely a whisper, and he just laughed, leaning closer
"I don’t bite, sweetheart. Unless you’re into that."
While you were too shy to respond, you noticed the way his expression softened when he realized you were genuinely nervous
He didn't push; he just paid, winked, said "see you later, sweetheart," and left you in a stunned, quiet silence
Eddie started coming in every Tuesday and Thursday
He realized early on that you were a people-pleaser who got overwhelmed by big personalities, so he adjusted
He’d sit on the floor of the aisle while you restocked, rambling about his D&D campaign or the latest drama with Corroded Coffin
He naturally filled the silence, never demanding you speak, which allowed your introverted heart to slowly stop racing whenever he appeared
You noticed when his grin was a little forced after a bad day at school
And one afternoon, you silently handed him a copy of a fantasy novel you’d been reading
"The protagonist reminds me of you," You said, your first long sentence to him
Eddie looked at the book like it was made of solid gold
The friendship solidified over your shared love for the arts
He found out you were a talented singer and actor when he caught you humming a melody while dusting the pop section
Instead of making a scene, he just grabbed a nearby broom, used it as a microphone, and started air-guitaring a ridiculous heavy metal backing track to your pop tune
You laughed
A real, genuine sound
And Eddie felt a pull in his chest he wasn't prepared for
He loved that you were a sensitive soul who understood the theatrics of life just as much as he did
The slow burn was agonizing
For Eddie, it started when he realized you weren't just "sweet"
You were judgmental and held grudges
You’d whisper sharp, sarcastic critiques about the "popular" kids who came in to buy Top 40 hits, and Eddie would howl with laughter
"You’ve got a wicked streak, don't you, Princess?" He’d grin
He loved that hidden stubbornness
For you, the feelings deepened during late-night music sharing sessions
After the store closed, Eddie would stay late, and you’d sit on the floor of the "Staff Only" section
He’d introduce you to the complex storytelling of Iron Maiden
And in return, you’d play him the dance and R&B tracks that made you feel confident
Watching him actually listen to your music
Not mocking it
Made you swoon
He’s the protective type, though he hides it behind humor
One night, a group of guys from school came in and started hassling you for being "the weird girl who hangs out with the freak"
You froze, your cowardly instinct instantly telling you to just take it
But Eddie was there in a second, his tall frame looming over them, a dangerous glint in his eyes
He didn't have to throw a punch
He just looked so unhinged and protective that they backed off
When he turned back to you, he was gentle again, tucking a stray wavy lock of your dark hair behind your ear
"Don't let those extras get to you, honey." He whispered
It happened in the store
You were staying late to practice a monologue for a play, your voice echoing through the empty space
You were dressed in a brown velvet skirt and a fitted top, looking every bit the "talented, quiet" girl he’d fallen for
Eddie was watching, completely captivated by your acting
When you finished, he didn't clap; he walked up to you looking uncharacteristically nervous
"You know, you're a real paradox," He started, "You're so anxious about the world, yet you stand up here and command it."
"I’m not good at the soft stuff, sweetheart. I’m a loud-mouthed freak who lives in a trailer. But the way you look at me... It- It makes me feel like I’m more than just a... Weird guy... You know?"
You were trembling, your straight-forward nature warring with your shyness
You reached out, grabbing the lapel of his denim vest to pull him down to your height
"Eddie, I hold grudges for years," You whispered, a tiny, awkward smile on your lips. "And I’ve decided I’m never letting you go for making me wait this long to kiss me."
He didn't need another word
He crashed his lips against yours, his hands tangled in your hair, finally claiming his muse
Being Eddie Munson’s girlfriend is a whirlwind of affection
He knows you get overwhelmed, so he creates a "safe zone" for you in his trailer
He bought a plush rug in a deep red and a few gold accents because he remembered they were your favorite colors
On rainy evenings, you’ll practice your belly dancing while he tries to keep a beat on his guitar
He finds the way you move your body so confidently - contrasted with your shy personality - to be the most attractive thing on the planet
He often ends up dropping the pick just to watch you, his mouth slightly ajar
He calls you "Little Bird" often
You call him "Eds"
Most nights are spent with your head in his lap while he reads aloud to you
He knows you love to read, but he likes the "theatre" of performing the book for you
He’ll do different voices for every character, making you giggle until your stomach hurts
Despite his image, Eddie loves taking you on quiet, outdoor dates where you won't get anxious about crowds
He found a secluded spot by Lovers' Lake where the trees are thick and the social world of Hawkins feels miles away
He’ll pack a bag with your favorite snacks and a battery-operated tape player
He gets you unique, thoughtful things
A vintage gold locket with a picture of himself inside, or a rare R&B vinyl he tracked down in Indianapolis
He once gave you a "Protection Kit" for when he’s not around
It was just a bunch of his smelliest, oversized band tees and a pair of heavy rings you could wear on a chain
"Sweetheart, are you still mad at Henderson for eating your fries three weeks ago?"
"He knew they were the perfectly seasoned ones, Eddie. He knew. I have a list, and his name is in red ink."
Eddie smirked, "God, I love your petty soul. Remind me never to get on your bad side, or I'll be sleeping on the couch until 1987."
~~~
Harry Potter;
Theodore Nott -
(Not getting in too deep in the canon events of HP)
It began in the quietest corners of the Hogwarts Library during your second year
You were both there for the same reason: Ancient Runes
Theodore Nott was a shadow in the Slytherin common room, but in the library, he was a force
You had a reputation for being quiet and shy, but your grades told a different story
You were the only one consistently beating him in most classes
You were hunched over a heavy scroll, your dark hair falling over your shoulders, concealing your face like a curtain
You were muttering a translation under your breath
A habit you didn't realize you had
When a cool, steady voice interrupted from the neighboring table
"It’s not 'protection,' it’s 'preservation,'" Theo said, not even looking up from his own parchment, "Contextually, the fifth rune refers to the soul, not the body. You’re overthinking."
You bristled
"I’m not overthinking; I’m being thorough. If you looked at the third century dialect instead of the fifth, you’d know that."
Theo finally looked up, his dark, perceptive eyes meeting your brown ones
A small, almost invisible smirk tugged at his lips
He didn't argue; he just dipped his quill back into the ink
You had earned his attention
And rightfully so
The friendship was a slow, cautious dance
Both of you had trust issues that ran deep, and both of you were experts at judging people from a distance
Because you were both introverted and observant, you began to spend your free periods together
Not necessarily talking, but occupying the same space
As the years progressed, you became the only person Theo would actually speak to about things other than schoolwork
You’d sit by the Black Lake, you reading a Muggle play
And him staring at the water
You’d vent about your "people-pleasing" tendencies and how exhausted they made you, and he would listen with a cynical, yet understanding, tilt of his head
"Stop trying to make them like you," Theo would drawl, his voice low, "Most of them aren't worth the effort of a greeting, let alone your kindness. Save that for the people who actually see you."
You’d hold grudges against the people who were mean to him, and he did the same for you
If a Gryffindor made a comment about your quiet nature, that student would find their Transfiguration notes mysteriously turning into confetti the next day
You didn't need to ask; you knew it was him
Neither of you felt the need to be fake with each other
The shift happened in sixth year
The atmosphere at Hogwarts was heavy, and you were both anxious, worried about the rising darkness
Your sensitivity meant you felt the tension in the castle more than most
Theo noticed
He began to leave small things in your bag: a rare book, or a piece of dark chocolate when you looked particularly overwhelmed
The "Academic Rivals" trope never truly died; it just evolved
You’d stay up late in the empty common room, quizzing each other
One night, while practicing for an exam, you started humming a song to calm your nerves
Theo stopped what he was doing, watching you
"You have a beautiful voice," He said softly
It wasn't a casual compliment; it was a heavy, weighted observation
"Why do you hide it? Along with the dancing? I've seen you practicing in the empty classrooms, you know."
You felt exposed, but seeing the genuine admiration in his guarded eyes made your heart race
You realized then that Theo didn't just "tolerate" your quirks
He was fascinated by the intensity you kept hidden from the rest of the world
You started feeling jealous when other girls tried to talk to him, and he became possessive in his own quiet way, always ensuring he was the one walking you to the next class
The confession didn't happen at school
It happened during the winter break of sixth year at a stiff, formal Pureblood gala
Theo didn't want to go alone, so he invited you
And you were looking breathtaking in a deep red gown with gold embroidery that hugged your frame
Theo was there in sharp, black dress robes, looking like a prince of shadows
During a formal waltz, suddenly his hand was on your waist
The physical contact was electric
"I’ve spent the last three hours judging every man in this room for even looking at you." He whispered into your ear as the music swelled
"I’ve spent the night doing the same to every girl near you," You admitted
When the dance ended, he led you into a darkened balcony
The air was freezing, but his presence was warm
He gave you his robe jacket
"I’m not good at this," He said, his voice straining, "But I don't want to be your rival anymore. I don't even want to just be your friend. I think... I think you’re the only person I actually trust."
You didn't wait for him to finish; you kissed him, the gold of your dress shimmering in the moonlight
In a relationship, Theo is incredibly attentive
He understands your need for music, and he’ll often cast a Muffliato spell around your room so you can listen to music as loudly as you want while you get ready
He loves the contrast of your personality
How you can be a shy, quiet girl in public and a confident, talented performer when it’s just the two of you
He buys you gold jewelry to match your favorite aesthetic
He loves the way your dark, wavy hair looks against brown and red fabrics
He’ll often sit behind you and run his fingers through the waves, his eyes softening in a way he only allows you to see
Spending evenings in his family’s library or a secluded corner of the Room of Requirement
You’ll read your scripts or plays out loud, and he’ll give you straight-forward critiques
Helping you memorize lines
He takes you on quiet, safe outdoor dates
Picnics and long walks through the gardens of Nott Manor.
You’re a power couple
To the rest of Hogwarts, you’re just two smart, quiet students who happen to study together
But beneath the surface, there’s a world of secret smiles, hidden hand-holding under the table, and a deep, intuitive understanding that neither of you ever have to be anyone else but yourselves when you're together
~~~
Marvel;
Peter Parker (Spider-Man) -
It was the second semester at Empire State University
You were tucked away in the back corner of the library, nearly hidden by a stack of textbooks on classical theatre and biology
You were feeling particularly anxious about an upcoming acting opportunity, your foot tapping a rhythmic beat as you hummed a Sabrina Carpenter melody to soothe your nerves
Peter Parker, carrying a heavy camera bag and looking just as disheveled and tired as he always did, was looking for a quiet place to develop some notes for Dr. Connors
He spotted you
A young woman with deep, dark eyes and hair that looked like spilled ink over your shoulders
You were so focused on your book that you didn't see him trip slightly over a chair leg
He froze, face turning bright red, but you didn't laugh
Instead, you looked up with a small, understanding smile that reached your eyes, sensing his awkwardness immediately
"It’s okay," You said softly, your voice barely a whisper, "The floor here is notoriously slippery."
Peter laughed, a genuine, warm sound
"I’m Peter. And yeah, I think this floor and I have a personal vendetta."
He sat across from you that day
Your friendship grew in the spaces between classes and the late-night walks across campus
Peter quickly became the "safe" person on your very short list
Because you were quiet and observant, you noticed things about him that others missed
The way he winced when he moved his shoulder
Or the way he’d suddenly disappear when sirens wailed in the distance
You didn't push him for answers, which Peter appreciated more than words could say
He loved your straightforward nature; you didn't play games, and in a world of secrets, your honesty was his anchor
The "walking home" ritual started almost immediately
No matter how busy he was with "photography gigs" for the Bugle, he was at your side every evening
You’d walk through the crisp New York air as you vented about your impatience with a slow-moving project or your latest "people-pleasing" mishap at work
Peter would listen with rapt attention, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets
"You're not a coward for wanting peace," He’d tell you firmly when you felt weak for avoiding a confrontation, "You’re sensitive, and that’s a strength. It means you actually care about the world."
For you, it was the way Peter looked at you when he didn't think you were noticing
With a gaze so full of tenderness it made your heart ache
For Peter, it happened during one of your rehearsals
He had snuck into the back of the theater to watch you practice a musical number
Hearing your voice
Rich, melodic, and full of the emotional depth you usually kept hidden
Completely floored him
He realized then that he didn't just like you; he was utterly devoted to you
He started showing his affection through tiny, thoughtful gestures
He’d bring you a warm cup of coffee just the way you liked it when he knew you’d been reading for hours
When your anxiety spiked, he’d gently place a hand on your arm
You, in turn, started getting protective
If someone spoke harshly to him, you’d give them a look so icy they’d actually back away
Peter found it adorable
"Did you just glare at that guy for five minutes straight?" He’d ask with a smirk
"He was being rude to you, Peter. I have a list, and he’s on it now," You’d reply, making him chuckle and pull you a little closer
The confession happened on a night when the city felt particularly heavy
You had experienced a "shut down" day where your trust issues were flaring up, making you feel isolated and worried that Peter would eventually get tired of your "awkwardness" and leave you
You were standing under the awning of your apartment building, the rain pouring down in sheets
Peter was soaked, his hair plastered to his forehead, but he refused to leave until he knew you were okay
"You don't have to stay here with me, Peter," You sighed, looking at your shoes. "I know it's not easy with all this rain-"
Peter took a step closer, his brown eyes searching yours
"I don't want 'easy,' I want you," He said, his voice cracking slightly with emotion, "I love the way you notice the little things. I love your kindness, even when you're trying to act tough. I love your singing more than any song on the radio. You're the smartest, most talented person I know, and if you'll have me... I want to be the person who walks you home for the rest of our lives. Eve in the middle of a rain storm."
You looked up at him, heart racing, and saw the truth in his eyes
You didn't say anything at first
You just leaned in and tucked your head under his chin, letting him hold you
"Okay," You whispered, "But you’re still walking me home tomorrow."
Being in a relationship with Peter is a dream for someone who values loyalty and gentleness
He adores your aesthetic, often buying you little gifts in your favorite colors
A deep red scarf to keep you warm, or a vintage gold locket he found at a thrift store
He’s incredibly patient with your "people-pleaser" tendencies, gently reminding you that it’s okay to say no
When you get impatient or snappy due to stress, he doesn't snap back
He just pulls you into a hug and lets you vent until the storm passes
He calls you "Honey"
You call him "Petey"
He takes you to dance clubs where the R&B and disco are loud enough that you can lose yourself in the music
He loves watching you belly dance
He thinks the way you move is pure art and it makes him blush every single time
You spend evenings in his cramped apartment, surrounded by his photography
You’ll read aloud to him or you’ll practice your lines for a play while he watches with stars in his eyes
He’s the type to leave sticky notes on your mirror with reminders of why you’re amazing
"You’re going to nail the audition today," or "I love the way your hair looks when it's messy"
He loves the tiny curls hidden in your dark hair and will spend hours just twirling a strand around his finger while you both listen to Madison Beer
You might be feeling anxious about a family matter, and Peter will simply come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and rest his chin on your shoulder
He doesn't need to say anything; his presence is the stability you’ve always craved
He respects your boundaries perfectly
When he comes over exhausted, you can see the weight of the world on his shoulders
You don't ask questions; you just lead him to the couch, and let him lay his head in your lap
For Peter Parker, you aren't just his girlfriend
You are his home
~~~
Platonic;
~~~
Stranger Things;
Robin Buckley -
The meeting wasn't exactly cinematic
It was awkward, slightly sweaty, and involved a very heavy stack of books
You were tucked away in the back corner of the Hawkins Library, trying to disappear into a fantasy novel to soothe your anxiety, when a blur of blue and white stripes practically fell over your table
Robin, still in her Scoops Ahoy uniform and looking like she’d just run a marathon through the mall, was desperately trying to find a specific book
She noticed you staring at her with your wide, dark brown eyes, and she froze
"I am so sorry! I have the coordination of a newborn giraffe today," She blurted out, her hands flying everywhere
You didn't say much, "It's okay," but Robin’s intuition kicked in immediately
She noticed the way you were holding your book like a shield
Instead of walking away, she sat down
"You’re reading that? I tried once, but I got distracted by the map in the front for three hours. I'm Robin, by the way. I work at the mall and smell like old milk 24/7."
Her straightforwardness made you giggle, and for a shy introvert, that was the ultimate green light for Robin
Robin didn't just become your friend; she adopted you
She realized quickly that you were a people-pleaser who struggled to speak up, and she took it upon herself to be your "social bodyguard"
If a waiter got your order wrong and you were too anxious to fix it, Robin would swoop in with a "Hey, sorry, my friend actually ordered no pickles."
While Robin would ramble at 100mph about her latest band practice, you were the one person who actually listened
You were intuitive enough to know when her rambling was just a cover for her own nerves
In return, she became the only person you felt comfortable being judgmental with
You’d sit in the corner of parties
The few you actually went to
And whisper sarcastic, witty observations about people’s outfits or behavior
"Oh, look at him trying to act cool," You’d murmur, and Robin would wheeze, "I know! It’s physically painful to watch!"
Most of your afternoons are spent in your bedroom
Which you’ve decorated in warm tones of brown, red, and gold
It’s the only place where your "shy" side disappears
Since you love singing and acting, Robin often "directs" you
She’ll sit on your floor, leaning against your bed, while you perform a song
Robin is your biggest fan, clapping wildly and shouting, "Grammy! Give this girl a Grammy right now!"
She’s also fascinated by your belly dancing
She’ll try to follow along, her long limbs flailing compared to your graceful movements
"How do your hips do that? Mine are made of lead and stubbornness!" She’d yell, eventually collapsing into a pile of laughter
But the most important part of your friendship is the protection
If Robin senses someone is taking advantage of your kindness or triggering your trust issues, she turns into a "fierce mama bear"
She will stare down anyone who makes you feel small, her sharp tongue and quick wit acting as a barrier between you and the world
~~~
Harry Potter;
Blaise Zabini -
(Not getting in too deep in the canon events of HP)
It happened in the Library, tucked away in the back of the Charms section
Where the shadows are long and the students are few
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your chest-length dark hair falling over your shoulders as you hummed a low, sweet melody from a song you’d heard over the summer
You were so lost in your own world, swaying slightly in a way that mimicked your belly dancing practice, that you didn't notice the tall, poised figure leaning against the bookshelf
Blaise Zabini had been watching you for ten minutes
He was dressed impeccably, his Slytherin robes tailored to perfection, looking every bit the cold, untouchable aristocrat
Most people were intimidated by his sharp features and bored expression, but you simply glanced up, blinked, and went back to your book
You didn't fawn over him, and you didn't run away
Blaise found that infinitely more interesting than the loud, desperate energy of the Great Hall
"You have a lovely voice," He drawled, his voice like velvet
"Though I suspect you’re far more perceptive than you let on, considering you’ve noticed the three people trying to eavesdrop on us from the next aisle."
You didn't even look up as you replied, "Four, actually. They breathe too loudly."
Blaise’s eyes sparked with a rare, genuine amusement
He realized then that beneath your introverted exterior lay a mind just as sharp and judgmental as his own
No one in Hogwarts understood why the "Ice Prince" of Slytherin was suddenly inseparable from the quiet girl
It was a surprisingly strong friendship built on a foundation of mutual observation
Blaise respects emotionally intelligent people, and he was fascinated by your intuitive nature
You are the anxious, people-pleasing soul who overthinks every interaction
And he is the calm, arrogant anchor who tells you exactly who isn't worth your time
Your favorite spot is a secluded corner of the Courtyard or the back of the Common Room, where you’ll sit together
You in a rich brown knit sweater and him in his usual silk-lined finery
Despite your introversion, Blaise knows how to draw out your talented side
He loves to hear you sing, often bringing you to the Astronomy Tower at night where the acoustics are hauntingly perfect
When you’re feeling overwhelmed or worried, he takes you outdoors
He finds a hidden clearing near the Black Lake where the light hits the water in shades of gold
~~~
Marvel;
Kate Bishop -
(A honest mix of show and comics' Kate)
You and Kate were born into the same circles of Manhattan elite, but while she was busy trying to climb the architecture of the Bishop penthouse, you were usually hiding behind a velvet curtain to avoid making eye contact with investors
You met at a dreary charity gala when you were both eight
You were tucked into a corner, meticulously organizing the hors d'oeuvres by color, when a young Kate Bishop, sporting a messy ponytail and a dress that was definitely missing a button, slid under the table next to you
"The shrimp puffs are better if you pretend they're space rations," She whispered
You were shy and quiet, your dark brown eyes wide with anxiety at the noise outside, but Kate just grinned
She didn't ask why you were hiding; she just decided you were her co-pilot
By the time your parents found you, Kate had convinced you to "scout" the kitchen for more rations, and a lifelong bond was forged
The dynamic of your friendship is the definition of "Chaotic Best Friend Adopts Anxious Introvert"
Kate is the gas pedal, and you are the emergency brake
Though she often ignores the brake entirely
As you grew up, Kate became your fiercest protector
If she ever caught someone being judgmental of your quiet nature or your awkwardness, she didn't just give them a "look"
She’d unleash a witty, stinging verbal takedown that left them speechless
Because you struggle with trust, Kate has spent years proving she’s the one person who will never leave
She’s the only one allowed to see your "judgemental" side
You two will sit in the back of a trendy coffee shop, you whispering sharp, perceptive observations about the pretentious patrons who are rude or don't tip
She loves that you aren't afraid to tell her when she’s being an idiot, even if you do it in a soft, worried voice
During fun escapades, her protective streak goes into overdrive
When you aren't being dragged into a crisis, your time together is sweet and domestic
Kate is your biggest fan
She will sit on the floor of your room for hours, leaning against your bed, just to watch you practice your belly dancing
She’ll try to follow along, looking incredibly uncoordinated and laughing at herself, while praising your talent
Music is the soul of your friendship
You’ve curated playlists for each other
You spend evenings reading together
Or rather, you read a classic novel while Kate occasionally interrupts you to read a funny text from Clint Barton
She loves your singing voice; she’ll often stop talking (a rarity!) just to hear you, looking at you with such genuine affection
