hii can i have a matchup pls? i’m around 5’7, i have blue eyes, i’m chubby lol, and i’m also constantly changing the color of my hair. i’m really shy and quiet but once i get comfortable with someone i’m really affectionate w them and i like giving them gifts a lot. i also listen to music like 24/7. tysm have a nice day💕💕
Hi ducky! I ship you with...
- He’s obsessed with you, quite frankly.
- Loves how often you change your hair colour, and showers you in compliments every time you do. He even wants to help you bleach and/or dye it, and he’ll absolutely suggest colours for you!
- When he first decides that he likes you, he’s going to be a bit of an asshole. But it’s all well-meaning, he swears!! He’s going to go out of his way to be affectionate with you, just to make you shy, but it’s only because he thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered!
- He also definitely talks enough for the both of you, at first. You never have to worry about lulls in conversation when you’re with him. If you ever want him to be quiet, just put your hand over his mouth, and he’ll quiet down immediately, giving you a lovelorn look like the goof he is.
- Dating Stu is a battle of gift-giving. “Oh babe, you got me a horror movie?? Well guess what. I got you 2 horror movies!!” He just wants to spoil you, but he definitely makes sure you know how much he appreciates your gifts, as well.
- On your birthday or anniversary, he’s going to be a bit ridiculous. He’ll take you out to a crazy fancy restaurant, and buy you an outfit just to wear for the occasion. You might think that’s your present, but oh no, he also got you everything you’ve so much as glanced at in the past year. He just wants you to feel special :(
- If you’re having a bad day, get ready for some serious cuddles. He won’t even tease you, how sweet is that? He’ll just wrap you up in a blanket and snuggle up with you for a horror movie marathon.
- He loves your body, and won’t let you forget it. He’s 5000% the type to walk around with his hand in your back pocket, just because he can. And if you ever get insecure, he’s going to be allll over you.
- If someone makes you upset (read: even mildly annoys you) he’s going to want to kill them. You’re his baby, and no one messes with his baby. NO ONE! Except for him, of course.
- He might accidentally hurt your feelings when he teases you sometimes, but as soon as he realizes what he’s done, he’s going to cry :( he won’t stop hugging you and apologizing, and there’s a 99.9% chance BIlly will swing by and find you trying to do a mundane task with Stu The Human Octopus wrapped around your back.
- Speaking of Billy, congrats on basically having 2 boyfriends! Wherever Stu goes, Billy’s not far behind, ~brooding~ and all. He might be a little jealous over Stu at first, but he’ll quickly warm up to you, and you’ll find that he joins you for movie nights more often than not.
- Stu brags about you non. stop. If there’s a human within a 5 mile radius (he totally won’t admit, but he’s also bragged about you to stray cat once) they’re going to hear about how smart and funny and amazing his S/O is.
- He just!!! Loves you so much!!! 🧡🧡🧡
6 notes · View notes
Sovereign Talks (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader)
Fandom: Resident Evil
Genre: Bit of angst sandwiched between two pieces of fluff
Rating: T for language
Notes: Another partially/selectively mute reader story! Again, this is somewhat self indulgent, essentially being a self-insert story with edits to make it better for a wider audience. PS Daniela says some stuff that's kinda insulting, though it's out of misunderstanding rather than poor intentions, and she tries to make up for it. Also, some of the descriptions of the reader's muteness might not make sense to everyone, as I'm essentially describing how it feels for me, personally.
Summary: Daniela's favorite servant is sweet, charming, eager to please, all the things she wants from a romantic partner. But there's one detail she's never quite understood. An argument, a discussion, an inevitability.
Try as you might, it was nigh impossible to please your employer. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong, and Daniela Dimitrescu was more than pleased to point it out to you. At least her intentions weren’t severe. It didn’t really bother her if you missed a spot while dusting, or if you accidentally stumbled upon a ‘private’ conversation. What mattered to her, at the end of the day, was having material to tease you with, or ‘bargain’ with. She’d approach you slowly, musing out loud about your chores. Then she’d point out a flaw, smirking ever so slightly, before placing a finger beneath your chin. You’d make awkward eye contact, desperate to get out of the situation.
And then she’d tell you exactly what she wanted from you.
Most days it was simple enough. Or at least it had been at the start, when she first sought you out. ‘Carry these books for me’, she’d say, beckoning you to follow her. ‘Make a copy of this poem so I can return the book to Duke’, she’d command. Every single time you were powerless to refuse. Hell, you couldn’t even say anything if you wanted to. So you did as she asked. In time, you came to realize the truth behind her actions, the center of her motivations: She wanted to spend time with you.
You had been baffled, at first, to connect the dots in such a way. But Daniela made no attempt to hide her feelings, letting her touches linger on your skin, smiling without any cruelty when you were near. Once, she had even covered for you after you broke a vase. When you had tried to protest, hands waving, mouth refusing to speak, she had shrugged you off with a simple ‘you are worth the price’. Ever since then, the two of you had been rather close. Sure, she had never officially asked you on a date, but she had held your hand while the two of you read. And she had held you, swaying back and forth, as music played in a distant room. Then there were the times she caught you in the corridor, pressing you against the wall for a quick kiss… or a long one, that is. Certainly that meant something? Otherwise you’d look quite silly, blushing as hard as you tended to.
Eventually your concerns subsided considerably. It took a long, difficult conversation, however, and an argument you’d never forget…
“Have you read Crier’s War yet?” Daniela asked, looking at you over her own book. The two of you were in her personal study, near the library, lounging in peaceful quiet. Well, it had been quiet. At her question you glance up, ensuring you made eye contact before shaking your head no. “I think you’d like it. Impossible love between two people from vastly different cultures, who start out opposed… sounds familiar, hmm?” This time you nod, laughing a little under your breath. Then you’re returning to your novel, oblivious to the way your partner is watching you, her eyes narrowed. When she catches your attention once more, it’s with a question you had hoped she would never ask. “Why don’t you talk?”
Trying to hide your discomfort, you practically bury your nose in your book, refusing to look up at Daniela. In response she grabs your notepad, slowly sliding it closer to you. For every second of silence she moves it another centimeter. With a slight groan you give in, snatching it from her hands, but sending her a glare as you do. Quickly you grab your pen and scrawl her a note. Not an answer, rather a question of your own.
“Why does it matter?” Clearly that wasn’t what she was looking for, as she leans back and gives a groan of her own.
“Seriously? I’m just curious. You can laugh, groan, make other, nice little noises… I just want to know how you work,” Daniela explained, frowning all the while. Admittedly, you understand where she’s coming from. But that didn’t mean that you were terribly comfortable with this conversation. In fact, it’s a subject you’ve been dreading ever since the two of you started ‘dating’. How exactly were you supposed to explain your condition? Especially without being able to talk directly through it?
“It’s complicated,” you write, angling the paper so Daniela can read it from her side of the table. But she only spares it a quick glance, before staring hard at you again. “Fine, babe. My mouth feels like static. My tongue is heavy, and trying to talk is like walking when both your legs are asleep. There’s never not a lump in my throat.” Now she’s reading attentively, frown vanishing, replaced by a confused expression. Shifting awkwardly, you internally pray that she doesn’t have any follow up questions. Alas, there are no gods on your side this day.
“Did something happen? Or were you… born like this?” Daniela asked, watching you closely. Frustrated, you give her a pleading look, hoping that she’d get the message and back off. Instead she doubles down. “We could arrange for a doctor to come out here, if that’s what you need. All you have to do is tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. It’s a multifaceted issue, and-” you have to turn the page to continue writing at this point- “a very personal one. But if you must know, it has to do with my anxiety.” There’s a pause, and for a few seconds you think the conversation is over. The relief that floods your chest only lasts a single moment. Then you’re face to face with Daniela, who’s leaning across the table, eyeing you with an expression you can’t make sense of. Now your heart is racing, leaving you trembling.
“So… it’s not a matter of whether or not you can talk at all? It’s a choice?” Daniela questioned, sounding aggravated. Instantly you’re shaking your head, scowling at her interpretation of your words. “What, you’re saying you can’t even relax enough to talk around me? Your fucking girlfriend?” This was exactly the sort of thing you had been worried about. How could you expect Daniela to understand the way your mind locked your jaw in place? How could she ever realize how terrifying the whole castle was?
“Calm down and let me elaborate, please,” you write, as fast as you can. But Daniela yanks your notebook away from you, tossing it to the side. All you can do is stare at her in shock. This was more than just a misunderstanding, this was her actively sabotaging your only reliable method of communication.
“You want me to calm down? Can’t you see why I’m upset? I just found out my partner isn’t comfortable around me. We could have been talking all this goddamn time! Why haven’t you told me this before? Why haven’t we worked on this?” Daniela was practically yelling now, and both of you had risen to your feet. You’ve backed away a meter or so, only for her to close the space between you, one hand cupping your cheek. No matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to look her in her eyes. “C’mon, please,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Tears are starting to cloud your vision. “Say something. Anything.”
Wordlessly, you pull yourself from her grasp, too overwhelmed to do anything other than let your feet carry you out of the room. Half to your relief, half to your misery, Daniela doesn’t lift a finger to stop you.
Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since you ‘talked’ to Daniela. Ever since, she had been avoiding you, and you her. Hell, for three days you struggled more than usual to communicate with anyone because you hadn’t dared to go back for your notebook. In the end someone had found you a new one. It didn’t quite feel the same though, considering your normal one had been a gift… a gift from the very person who had taken it away from you. For two weeks it had felt like every single thing was another reminder of your loneliness. You wanted desperately to fix your situation, but had no clue where to even begin. Until an irritated Cassandra hatched a devious plan, that is.
You weren’t privy to the specific details of her scheme, and could only guess as to her motivations (presumably being annoyed by Daniela’s sulking). All you really knew was that one moment you were following the middle child, supposedly to assist her with organizing something, and the next you were being shoved in an unfamiliar room. Inside, Bela was trying to stall Daniela, making up a ridiculous excuse for her to be there. As soon as you entered, the eldest daughter made a beeline (flyline?) towards the exit. Before either you or your girlfriend could process what was happening, the door had been shut and locked, trapping the two of you within.
“What the fuck?” Daniela asked, temporarily ignoring you in favor of pounding on the door. It didn’t budge, unsurprisingly, but someone outside did yell in response. Not that you could make out what the muffled voice was saying. “Ugh, I swear I am going to kill them for this.” Unable to get out, she finally turns to look at you. In an instant the anger drains from her face, replaced with a bittersweet smile. There’s enough tension in the room to weigh the corners of your lips down. It’s getting harder to breathe, and you can’t quite look Daniela in the eyes. “Hey. Hey, c’mon, if they’re going to be assholes, we might as well make the most of it, right?” She asked, voice a million times softer than you would have expected, considering your previous conversation. With that she moves to sit down, gesturing for you to join her.
“Mmm?” You ‘say’, really just making a confused humming sound. For once, you do want to talk. More than any other time you’ve wanted to. But your tongue was caught in the bear trap your teeth represented, preventing almost any sound from escaping. Still, this is a side of Daniela that you do not often see, with how prideful she tended to be. All it takes to get you to move is for her to pat the spot next to her. Then you’re shifting, blushing hard as you lower yourself onto the couch. Not quite ready to meet her gaze, you stare at your thumbs, twiddling them like an anxious child.
“Bela seems to think that I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you,” Daniela mused, more to herself than to you. One of her hands slides towards you, however, eagerly intertwining her fingers with your own. After two whole weeks of isolation… it’s an amazing feeling. “I said something stupid. It’s been driving me mad, and I have no clue what to do about it. Fuck-” she flinches as she speaks, eyes clamping shut- “I just want to fix this. I want you to feel good around me. I want you to feel the same way I do. More than anything, I want to be your safe haven.”
Your eyes meet, finally, as warmth floods your chest. Words fail you, as they are wont to do, so you leave them behind. Instead you reach for your stars- the body of your girlfriend, pulling yourself into her arms. Even as tears drip down your cheeks, you are smiling softly, overwhelmed by the embrace. Soon enough you can feel Daniela rubbing soft circles into your back with her fingers. She presses a gentle kiss to the side of your head, enjoying the hug too much to pull back even the slightest bit.
“Is there anything I can do? Anything to make you more comfortable?” She asked, for a moment not even realizing the difficulty you would have with responding. Finally connecting the dots, she changes the position of her arms, ensuring that you could stay in her lap while still being able to gesture with your hands. Instead of replying, your first concern is to gently cup your girlfriend’s cheek. Then you place a kiss on her forehead. “You’re my everything, you know that, right?” Daniela whispered, sounding almost in awe. Suddenly you’re possessed by a rush of courage, clearly bolstered by her affection, and you move without thinking. You lean back in for another kiss, hand moving to the back of her head for stability.
Both of you are smiling now, even as your kiss gets more intense, the two of you pressing against each other as best as you can. One of Daniela’s hands runs itself through your hair, before taking it in a loose grip. All you can think about is how right this feels. Your heart is racing, especially as your girlfriend switches to an open mouth kiss, letting her tongue slide across your lips. It catches you off guard, and you need to pull back to catch the breath she had so eagerly stolen. Even then you swear you can feel her pulse pounding just as hard as yours is.
“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” Daniela murmured, embarrassed, worried that you had stopped for a very different reason. In response you shake your head a little, then practically smother her face in tiny kisses. She’s giggling at that, grinning, all of her anxiety fading away. Most of yours does too. Everything feels perfect. So much so, in fact, that you feel something you haven’t felt in almost an entire year: The loosening of your jaw muscles. Clarity unstiffens your tongue, making age-old static clear up. Can I…? You wonder, wanting so desperately to use this opportunity as best as you can. After all, who knew when you’d ever be this comfortable within the castle again. Hell, the thought alone makes you more nervous, and you struggle to think of something, anything, to say.
“L-l… Love,” you stuttered, barely getting the syllable out, mouth feeling incredibly dry, mind racing, hating how it sounds because holy shit you haven’t talked in a year and was Daniela going to hate your voice and forget all about what you were saying and ruin the moment or worse was she going to hate you or thoughts thoughts pounding in your head like a hurricane, because because because-......................... Anxiety, above all else, was an asshole. One that had prevented you from hundreds of conversations, and limited a thousand more. Now, moments after finally speaking, your mind is on the brink of a tear-worthy breakdown. But you’ve said your piece, and by God has it been received.
“Yes, absolutely, fuck baby, I love you so much!” Daniela cried, equally overwhelmed, for a far different reason. She’s holding you as close as she can, burying her face in your neck. Likewise you rest yourself against her, letting your eyes drift shut, happy beyond description. There were still things you had to talk about, yes, and you would once more have to rely on your trusty notebook. Daniela had a lot to learn, to understand, but this was a start. More than that, it was the first step after the mending of a broken bone. Everything to come would be far, far easier, a labor of love done fearlessly.
“Should we open the door now? Or at least unlock it?... How long does it take two idiots to stop being mad at each other?” Cassandra asked, leaning against the hallway wall. Meanwhile Bela had her ear to the door, straining to hear what was going on within. Sure, she had gone along with her younger sister’s plan, but she hadn’t been entirely convinced that it wouldn’t end in disaster. Then again, so far so good. No yelling, no (loud) crying, just some quiet words from Daniela. Maybe they’re working things out, Bela thought, starting to smile. And then she heard something she’d never forget…
“Yes, absolutely, fuck baby, I love you so much!”
“We are not opening that door,” Bela replied, suddenly, her ears burning red. She didn’t know how things had gone from so quiet to so potentially dirty in such a short amount of time, and she did not care. Without even a hint of an explanation, she turned to leave, desperate to get certain mental images out of her head...
111 notes · View notes
🎨 - show us a w.i.p of yours!
:-) this is from a college roommate au where zuko and sokka are sitting on the floor of their dorm after a night of drinking.
How the topic of their taste in men came up, Sokka couldn’t remember. Suddenly it seemed, Zuko was casually asking, “What kind of guys are you into?” Sokka stopped chewing mid-bite and set the upper half of the dinosaur-shaped nugget on the plate. He swallowed and avoided Zuko’s unbridled gaze.
“Um…” Sokka hummed as he crossed his legs and propped his elbows on them.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Zuko mumbled, then took a swig from the flask. He offered it to Sokka, who gratefully accepted.
“It’s okay,” Sokka replied before taking a long drink. He grimaced at the sensation of warm, shitty vodka burning its way along his esophagus. The immediate warmth flooded first Sokka’s stomach, then his cheeks, which only grew rosier as he considered a response. A stolen glance at Zuko revealed his knees had fallen to the floor, his hands braced beside him on the carpet.
“I don’t know,” Sokka admitted with a shrug, his eyes glued to the floor. “I’ve never dated a man before.” Sokka decided on another quick swig for his bravery, and passed it to Zuko, whose eyes hadn’t left Sokka’s face.
“Really?” he asked, sounding astonished.
Sokka nodded sheepishly and hiccuped. “Does that surprise you?” he asked softly, and Zuko tilted his head in thought.
“Kind of. You’re always talking about guys you think are hot,” Zuko observed, and Sokka’s blush crept to his ears.
“Take another drink,” Sokka instructed, afraid to be the drunkest one in the room. Zuko obliged, but his eyes didn’t leave Sokka even as the flask touched his lips. “Yeah, I think a lot of guys are hot,” Sokka continued, the scrutiny of Zuko’s stare a microscope, “but that doesn’t mean I want to date them.”
“Fair enough,” Zuko agreed, the words slurred. Zuko’s eyes narrowed in front of him, focused on nothing in particular as he tipped the flask back once more. When he was finished, Zuko shook the flask, the empty space accentuated. He held it out to Sokka and offered, “Want the last drink?”
Sokka grimaced. “I guess so,” he replied.
He almost spit out the vodka when Zuko nonchalantly implored, “So does that mean you’ve never kissed a guy?”
The alcohol effectively incinerated Sokka’s throat, so his confession was raspy, “No, I haven’t.”
“Do you want to?” Though Zuko’s words ran together, they were confident. The combination of Zuko and the alcohol had the room reeling, or maybe it was just Sokka. He could barely feel his legs as they pulled into his chest, or his hands grazing his shins.
“I do,” Sokka affirmed. His heart hammered like the beat of a drum and Zuko was holding the sticks. “I never really had the opportunity, and…” Words and complex thought alluded him, each blink slowed with drunken stupor. “What if I’m not good at it?”
The question suspended in the air. Zuko shifted so his entire body was directed at Sokka with his knees crossed. “Bet you are,” Zuko argued knowingly, his eyebrow raised. Sokka huffed a short laugh of disbelief.
“Yeah? You think so?” Sure, Sokka had conversed with Zuko on more than one occasion in a way that could be interpreted as flirting, but it was always for the purpose of lighthearted teasing. Sokka clung to the safety of claiming satire, but Zuko never seriously complained. Now, initiated by Zuko, it felt more substantial, somehow.
Zuko nodded, his assurance a simple, “Yup.”
“And why’s that?” Sokka prodded, and relaxed his position to mirror Zuko’s, unafraid now to focus his attention on him.
Sokka was bewildered for a moment when Zuko’s thumb drug across Sokka's lower lip. “That stupid mouth,” Zuko laughed, and Sokka’s jaw fell in mock betrayal. “It’s gotta be good for something.”
Sokka moved the plate to his other side so he could kick Zuko’s leg and slap his hand away at the same time. “Asshole,” he muttered, but Zuko’s giggle was relentless. He slumped over and rested his forehead against his arms as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Ya done?” Sokka asked sarcastically.
When Zuko craned his neck upward, he was no longer laughing, but a dreamy grin encapsulated his face. In one fast motion, Zuko’s fingers smoothed across Sokka’s exposed bicep and caressed the muscles lightly. “What if…” Zuko slurred as his fingers worked their way to Sokka’s chin. “What if I’m the first guy you kiss, for practice?”
Sokka let out a tortured breath as his hand closed around Zuko’s wrist, but he didn’t remove Zuko’s fingers. “Zuko,” Sokka breathed, his voice gentle, “you’re really drunk.” It sounded hypocritical out of his mouth, warped and garbled.
“So’re you,” Zuko countered defiantly. He even glared in the cutest way possible, and Sokka was sure his bones liquified. His thoughts jumbled all around his head, and logic was indiscernible amongst the whirlwind of excitement. Zuko bit his lip as his hand fell to Sokka’s shoulder. “Do you want to?” he asked hesitantly, and Sokka hadn’t the willpower to lie.
“Yes,” he replied instantly, and Zuko’s eyes fluttered closed.
Sokka resigned to his erratic breathing and focused on his fingers, testing a featherlight touch against either side of Zuko’s jaw. He unfolded his legs to rest his weight on his knees, and with him he brought Zuko’s head tilted upward. Sokka’s eyes closed and he leaned forward until their lips made contact.
36 notes · View notes