#Time Wasters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

georgeweasleyslostearhq · 8 days ago

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TO MY DEAREST,

Pairings: Ralph Penbury x Fem! Summary: Ralph atempts to be your secret admirer for Valentine's Day, though you seem to know exactly who keeps waking you up early in the morning with gifts. Warnings: just Ralph being a cutie.

Valentine masterlist

-Day six-

౨ৎ ₊˚ 𓍢ִ໋ ⬷ ♡ ⊹₊⬷ ₊˚ 𓍢⋆౨ৎ˚

౨ৎ ₊˚ 𓍢ִ໋ ⬷ ♡ ⊹₊⬷ ₊˚ 𓍢⋆౨ৎ˚

The first time you got one of the cards was at 7 AM on a Sunday, the first of February.

You were sleeping peacefully in your neoclassical bed, the sunlight barely filtering through the heavy curtains, when the doorbell rang, and rang, and rang, its insistent chime shattering your dream. With a groan, you rolled over, burrowing your face deeper into your pillow, hoping it would stop. But it didn't.

Finally, you relented, pushing the covers aside and stretching with a yawn as you slid into your silk robe. You shuffled down the hallway, the softness of the fabric brushing against your skin in stark contrast to the cold tiles beneath your bare feet. By the time you reached the foyer, the bell rang again, as if it had a personal vendetta against your slumber.

Opening the door with a groggy sigh, you were greeted by a young delivery man with a cheeky grin, holding a large, impeccably wrapped package. The ribbon was a deep red, and there was an odd sense of extravagance about the whole thing, as if the sender had spent an entire fortune on a single bouquet of roses and... whatever else might be inside.

"Miss, delivery for you," he said, his smile widening as he handed you the package, only to wink and quickly depart, leaving you standing in the doorway, utterly perplexed.

You stared at the parcel, the tag clearly marked in delicate script:

To my dearest, from a most secret admirer.

The handwriting was bold but elegant, unmistakably... Ralph Penbury.

The second time came even earlier, at 6:30 AM on the 2nd of February.

You were still half asleep when the bell rang again, sharp and insistent. This time, you couldn’t ignore it. Pulling yourself out of bed with a much greater effort than the morning before, you yawned and stumbled into your robe, your hair a messy halo around your face.

The doorbell rang again- louder this time, as if daring you to stay in bed a second longer.

You groaned but went to answer it, fully expecting another extravagant package.

A young man stood there holding a bouquet of roses so large it nearly covered his face. The deep red blooms were impossibly fresh, the petals slightly dewy as though they’d just been picked that morning. The scent was intoxicating, filling the cold morning air and making your heart skip in spite of yourself.

With a polite bow, he handed them over, barely meeting your eyes. “From your admirer,” he said simply before turning and walking off, leaving you once again standing on your doorstep.

You stared down at the card nestled among the roses, the script unmistakable:

To my dearest, Another token of my affection, though not nearly enough to show the depth of my admiration.

There was no mistaking it. This was Ralph Penbury- again.

The third time came at precisely 7 AM on the 3rd of February.

This time, you were barely awake when the doorbell rang- not loud enough to pull you from your slumber immediately, but insistent enough that you reluctantly dragged yourself out of bed again.

Your silk robe felt heavier than ever as you trudged down the hallway, the weight of it mirroring the growing weight in your chest. The sheer absurdity of Ralph’s daily gifts was starting to wear thin, and though part of you felt flattered by the attention, another part of you just wanted to tell him to stop.

But when you opened the door this time, your eyes went wide.

A full-sized parasol, the kind that would be more at home at a garden party or under the hot sun on a lavish estate, sat at your doorstep. It was opulent- deep green silk with gold-trimmed edges, and the handle was made from intricately carved wood, almost too beautiful to be real. And underneath it, sitting at your feet, was another bouquet of roses- this time, a mix of white and lavender, arranged like a crown fit for royalty.

You stared at the sight, a mix of disbelief and amusement crossing your face.

You picked up the parasol and the card nestled under it, noticing the fine paper and the delicate handwriting once again:

To my dearest, For your beauty, even the sun pales in comparison.

It was a grand gesture, certainly, but it felt almost... absurd. Ralph Penbury had somehow gone from sending simple cards to arranging a regal display right outside your door, and yet, despite all the opulence, there was still no sign of him.

A small sigh escaped your lips. How much longer would this go on?

The fourth time came at 8:24 AM on the 4th of February.

This morning, you’d braced yourself for yet another surprise. You had no idea what Ralph could possibly top the parasol and roses with, but somehow, you had a feeling it would be even more extravagant than the day before.

You opened the door with a bit of reluctance, still half-sleeping, and blinked in surprise.

This time, instead of a delivery man, there was a small troupe of musicians, standing at the bottom of your steps, their instruments gleaming in the early morning light. There were two violins, a cello, and a lone flutist, all waiting patiently.

“Miss,” the lead musician said with a bow, “a little serenade from your admirer.”

Before you could say anything, they began playing- a beautiful, sweeping melody that seemed to echo the feel of a classical love story. It was lovely, but utterly unexpected, and you felt your cheeks heat as you watched them play, knowing full well who was behind this.

Once the last note faded, the lead musician handed you an elegant silver box, nestled in velvet. Inside, you found a delicate brooch, its center a gleaming sapphire surrounded by tiny diamonds. The card that accompanied it read:

To my dearest, a lady whose beauty deserves to be celebrated every day.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sheer absurdity of it all. This wasn’t just a simple gift anymore; Ralph was throwing everything he had into this- grand gestures, fine jewelry, and even live music. Yet, still, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to confront him. Instead, you closed the box and sighed, wondering just how far he’d go tomorrow.

The fifth time came at 6:45 AM on the 5th of February.

You were starting to feel like you could predict the pattern now. Another delivery, another gift, and yet still no sign of Ralph. But when you opened the door this time, it wasn’t a person waiting on your doorstep.

Instead, there was a vintage wooden crate placed carefully at your feet. The top was decorated with flourishes of gold-leaf writing, the sort of thing you'd expect to find in an antique store.

Inside the crate, nestled among soft layers of tissue paper, was a hand-painted porcelain tea set, its intricate floral patterns in soft blues and pinks, the delicate cups rimmed with gold. Alongside it was a handwritten card in Ralph’s familiar handwriting:

To my dearest, for the quiet moments between us, a set to make those moments as beautiful as they are fleeting.

You felt a small smile tug at your lips. The tea set was undeniably lovely, a touch of sophistication that felt almost personal- like Ralph had tried to choose something that reflected you. But still, the extravagance of it all was starting to make you laugh, a soft chuckle slipping past your lips as you wondered just how long he planned to keep this up.

The sixth time came at 7:15 AM on the 6th of February.

By now, you were truly done. Ralph’s ridiculous gifts had gone on long enough, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to be flattered anymore. It was all just... too much. What did he think this was going to do? Was he trying to win you over with flowers and letters?

You opened the door, fully prepared for whatever absurd thing he'd come up with today, and found a massive bundle of flowers, their petals so vibrant that they nearly stopped you in your tracks.

The bouquet was an overwhelming mix of every flower you could imagine:

Roses, lilies, daisies, and even some blooms you didn’t recognize. At the very center of the pile, a set of love letters- each one sealed with wax- was stacked neatly, with a ribbon tied around them like some kind of literary treasure. And tucked underneath, nestled among the petals, was a beautifully ornate quill set, the kind you might expect to see in a Victorian parlor. The feathers were dyed a soft purple, and the ink well was etched with intricate designs.

You stared at the collection, incredulous. This was too much.

The card that came with it was more of Ralph’s flowery prose:

To my dearest, for the words I long to share with you, yet can only write for now. The letters I wish I could say aloud.

You groaned audibly, the last straw. He’s really outdone himself this time, hasn’t he? The flowers, the letters, the quill set- it was all just a spectacle now. You felt a rise of frustration bubbling inside you as you carefully placed the gifts aside.

You had no idea what you were supposed to do with all of this. Why couldn’t he just knock on your door? Why couldn’t he be brave enough to speak to you face-to-face instead of hiding behind these ridiculous gestures?

Sitting down with your head in your hands, you couldn’t decide if you were more amused or irritated at this point. Either way, you were starting to get the feeling that Ralph didn’t quite understand the meaning of subtlety.

The seventh time came at 7:30 AM on the 7th of February.

You were done- or at least, you thought you were. You had braced yourself for whatever dramatic gesture Ralph would come up with today, and yet, when you opened the door, nothing could have prepared you for this.

At first, all you saw were dozens of white doves, fluttering around your front porch, circling in the early morning air. Their soft wings brushed the ground as they moved, creating an almost magical, if absurd, scene. You stood there, momentarily caught off guard, watching as they cooed and flapped in perfect unison.

Then, your gaze shifted to the grand, black horse-drawn carriage now parked in front of your house, polished to a mirror shine. The coachman, dressed in full livery, tipped his hat to you as the carriage door opened, revealing a small, velvet-lined box placed carefully inside.

You hesitated for a moment before approaching the carriage. The driver held the box out to you, bowing slightly as he did. You took it from him, your curiosity piqued despite yourself.

Inside, nestled in soft red velvet, was a massive diamond necklace, its diamonds shimmering like stars in the early morning light. Attached to it was a handwritten note, sealed with wax in the shape of a heart:

To my dearest, the woman whose beauty has captivated me from the first moment we met. I am but a man lost in admiration, awaiting the moment you might look my way.

The necklace was so extravagant, so over-the-top, that for a split second, you forgot about your irritation. You could almost picture Ralph- suit and tie, full of flair- handing this to you with a flourish. If he had shown up himself…

But as quickly as that thought came, frustration replaced it. Ralph was still not here. He had sent the doves, the coach, the necklace, and the poetry- all without having the decency to show up himself.

You took a deep breath, biting back the urge to laugh or yell. The absurdity of it all was suffocating. How many more grand gestures would it take before he finally took the courage to step forward and simply confess to you?

With a deep sigh, you set the box down, feeling the weight of both the necklace and the situation.

One thing was for certain- Ralph had a flair for the dramatic, but when would he stop hiding behind his spectacles and make his real move?

The eighth time came at 6:45 AM on the 8th of February.

You had been expecting it. You had been bracing yourself. After days of lavish gifts, flowers, and poetry, you were almost certain that Ralph was finally going to show up. But, as you opened the door, you realized that- of course- he hadn’t.

Instead, you found an elegant carriage parked outside your house, the horses’ coats gleaming under the soft light of the early morning. The coachman was nowhere to be found, but on the steps, there was a small table covered in white lace, and atop it lay a single, pristine white rose, its petals so delicate they could have been plucked from a dream. Beside it was a silver tray, with an envelope sealed in crimson wax and an extravagant, black silk ribbon tied around it, forming an almost perfect bow.

With your heart already racing, you carefully opened the envelope. Inside was a card, large and beautifully designed, framed with lace and embossed with gold, as though it had been crafted by the finest artisans of the era.

The message read:

To My Dearest, I can no longer stand in the shadows of my own silence. I have adored you since the first moment we met, and every gesture has been a step toward the truth I now lay bare before you. Will you be my Valentine, and let me express the depth of my feelings for you in ways beyond what mere words can capture?

Beneath the words, in delicate cursive, there was a silver key, shining in the light, attached to a small ribbon. A key to his heart- or perhaps to his house, to something deeper than words could say.

You blinked a few times, your emotions conflicted. Was this it? Was this the moment when he would finally show his face and stop hiding behind his gifts? You looked around, expecting to find him hidden behind one of the trees or perhaps hiding in the shadows of his lavishly planned final gesture, but- there was nothing.

No Ralph. Just the carriage.

You felt your frustration boil over again. Hadn’t he learned anything? The key was the most obvious sign yet- he was asking you to unlock whatever feelings he thought you might have for him, but he was still too afraid to unlock his own door to you.

And yet, despite everything, a small, irrational part of you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. The romance of it all- the key, the rose, the golden words- was almost too much to resist. But you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

You looked at the rose and the key one last time, trying to temper your own curiosity with the lingering irritation.

This was the moment. And it was up to him to finally show up- in person- and make his confession face-to-face.

౨ৎ ₊˚ 𓍢ִ໋ ⬷ ♡ ⊹₊⬷ ₊˚ 𓍢⋆౨ৎ˚

You marched to Ralph's house, a mixture of frustration and determination boiling inside you. The road felt longer than usual, your every step heavy with the weight of your thoughts. This ends today.

When you finally arrived, you walked up to the door and knocked firmly- three times.

After a moment, the door opened with a soft creak, and there stood Ralph, dressed in his usual sharp, yet effortless manner, as if he’d just rolled out of bed and decided to throw on his finest suit. He smiled widely at you, that charming grin lighting up his face, the one you’d come to expect- but this time, you weren’t fooled.

"Ah, good morning, my dearest!" he said, stepping aside with a flourish. "What brings me the honour of your company on this fine day?"

You've never heard him speak so...formal, it was a little scary.

You stared at him, holding back the frustration that was threatening to spill over. "I’m here to talk to you, Ralph."

"Talk to me? About what?" His expression remained one of innocent curiosity, though you could see the playful glint in his eyes as if he were enjoying this far too much.

You stepped forward, holding out the letter, the key, and the rose.

"What’s this, then?" you demanded, your voice a little sharper than you intended. "What’s with all these gifts? The flowers, the notes, the key to your house, Ralph? Why haven’t you just come out and told me you were the one behind all of this?"

He blinked at the rose in your hand and then looked up at you, genuinely puzzled. "Gifts? I’m afraid I’m not sure what you’re talking about, my dear. I haven’t sent you any gifts."

Your jaw nearly dropped. Was he for real?

"You haven’t sent me any-" You cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. "Ralph, don’t play coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The doves, the cards, the roses, the chocolates- everything! You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t been sending those."

He put on a mock expression of deep thought, crossing his arms. "Hmm, doves? Roses? The tea set. Well, now, I must say I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but I’m afraid I’ve been too busy to orchestrate any such… elaborate gestures."

You glared at him, now fully aware that he was not only pretending not to know but doing so with that trademark charm of his. "You’re telling me someone else has been doing all of this? Someone else has been sending all of this to me?"

"Absolutely," Ralph said with a smooth nod, completely unfazed. "Why, if I had known you enjoyed all these lovely gifts so much, I might have started sending you more myself!" He chuckled, completely casual about it.

You stared at him in disbelief, the nerve of this man. He was standing there, acting like he wasn’t responsible for any of this- like the past week had never even happened. Your fingers tightened around the rose stem; the petals crushed in your grasp.

"Ralph," you said, your voice low but still firm, "I don’t know whether you think this is some sort of joke, but I’m done playing games."

"Games?" He leaned forward, a smirk on his lips. "I think you might be imagining things, darling. No need to get upset."

You stepped closer to him, the frustration in your chest bubbling over. "I’m not imagining anything. I’m standing here in front of you, holding the evidence, and you’re pretending it’s not you behind all of this. Why won’t you just admit it?"

His smirk only grew wider, and he shrugged dramatically. "Because, my dear, I really haven’t done anything. You must be quite mistaken. But, if you’d like, I’d be happy to start sending more of these gifts... just to keep you on your toes."

You were at your breaking point. You took one final step closer, practically toe-to-toe with him. "You’re infuriating," you muttered, shaking your head.

"Am I?" he asked with an innocent blink, as though he hadn’t been the one pulling every string behind the scenes. He leaned in, his voice dropping a little lower, more teasing. "But I do have to admit, you’re here now… and that’s something, isn’t it?"

The nerve. You were so done with his games, yet a part of you couldn’t help but feel that small spark of intrigue- because even as maddening as he was, he was still Ralph. And this absurd little act of his? Maybe it was the final test.

But you weren't going to let him have the last word this time.

You stared at him, your patience hanging by a thread.

How could he keep pretending that he didn’t know what was going on? All these gifts, all these thoughtful gestures- it was him, no doubt about it. But still, he refused to admit it, and it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure.

“You…” you started, your voice trembling with frustration. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”

Ralph’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to get so worked up.

“Me? Really?” He shifted on his feet, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought… maybe you’d like it? The mystery, I mean.”

“Like it?!” you almost shouted, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I would’ve been your Valentine by now if you weren’t such a nincompoop! But no, you keep sending me all these gifts like some mysterious stranger and won’t just show up and say it’s you!”

Ralph looked more confused than anything, his brow furrowing as if he was trying to make sense of what you were saying. “But… I thought you liked the surprises. You don’t?”

“No, I do like them! But if you weren’t so afraid to admit it’s you behind all of this, we could’ve been done with this already!”

Your chest was tight with a mix of anger and confusion. “Why can’t you just be honest?”

“I am honest!” Ralph protested, stepping back as though the weight of the situation was sinking in.

“I’m just… well, I thought you might like it better if it was a bit of a game. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He wrung his hands nervously, looking even more like a deer caught in headlights.

“You’ve been sending me things for days, Ralph! And I’ve had enough! If you can’t just fess up and admit you’re behind it all, then I’m leaving.” You were practically shaking now with frustration.

“Oh,” Ralph said softly, almost as if he hadn’t realized how serious you were. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I guess there’s nothing I can do.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, staring at the ground like he was lost for words.

“I really didn’t mean to make you upset.”

You shook your head, still seething. “It’s not about the gifts or the mystery! It’s about you pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about! If you cared about me at all, you’d just tell me the truth.”

Ralph bit his lip, his eyes wide with a mix of guilt and confusion. He didn’t know how to respond. “I… I didn’t want to make things weird,” he muttered, looking away from you. “I thought maybe… you’d think I was being too forward.”

Your hand was already on the door, ready to leave. “Well, I’ve had enough of this. If you can’t be honest with me, then I’m done.”

You turned and opened the door, stepping out without looking back.

Ralph stood in the doorway, looking helpless as you left. He didn’t stop you. He didn’t try to explain. He just stood there, as if he was still trying to understand what had just happened.

As you walked away, you felt a strange mix of relief and frustration. He was still acting like it was all some kind of game, and you had no idea how to make him see that it wasn’t.

౨ৎ ₊˚ 𓍢ִ໋ ⬷ ♡ ⊹₊⬷ ₊˚ 𓍢⋆౨ৎ˚

February 12th

A knock at your door.

You ignored it at first.

Then came another knock. And another. More urgent. More insistent.

With an exhausted sigh, you pulled yourself up, tightened the belt of your robe, and stomped toward the door, fully prepared to give whoever it was a piece of your mind.

The second you opened it, though, all that frustration hit a wall.

That wall was named Ralph Penbury.

He stood there on your doorstep, bundled up in his finest coat and waistcoat, gripping a ukulele like it might float away if he loosened his grip. His hair was slightly mussed from the wind, and his face—already pink from the cold- somehow got redder the moment he saw you.

“Oh,” he said, blinking rapidly. “Hello.”

You folded your arms. “Ralph.”

Silence.

Then, after an awkward pause, he perked up like he suddenly remembered why he was there. “I- well, I thought that since my previous attempts at, um, expressing my… intentions may have been a bit much, I’d try something a little less… er… grandiose this time.”

You arched a brow.

“A song,” he added quickly, lifting his ukulele with a hopeful little smile.

You said nothing, just stared at him.

Ralph cleared his throat and set his fingers on the strings. He strummed once.

A horrible, ear-piercingly flat note rang out.

Ralph winced like he’d physically hurt himself. You blinked.

“Oh dear,” he muttered, frowning at the instrument. “That’s- that’s not right at all.”

And then, to your absolute bewilderment, he started tuning it, right there on your doorstep, flicking the pegs with intense concentration, plucking the strings, and murmuring to himself in frustration.

You stared.

Then, despite yourself, you felt your lips twitch.

He was completely oblivious to your reaction, too focused on adjusting the ukulele, muttering, “Honestly, this was in perfect tune when I left the house, I don’t know what- oh, bother, now I’ve made it worse-”

You pressed a hand to your mouth, pretending to cough, anything to disguise the fact that you were very much not annoyed anymore.

Finally, after a few more adjustments, he gave the strings a satisfied little pluck, nodded to himself, then looked up at you with the proudest, most innocent grin.

“Right then,” he declared, shifting his stance. “Take two.”

And then he played.

The song was sweet and soft and maybe a little bit clumsy. His fingers weren’t the most practiced, and he still hesitated on a few chords, but his voice- when he dared to sing- was gentle, warm, and filled with the kind of sincerity you couldn’t fake.

The worst part? It was working.

Your heart- your very annoyed, put-upon, exasperated heart—was melting.

By the time he strummed the last note, you weren’t even pretending to be mad anymore.

He looked up at you then, his wide brown eyes searching, nervous. He swallowed hard. “I, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

A long moment passed.

Then, without a word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Ralph made a tiny, surprised noise in the back of his throat- like a squeak, almost- but then he all but melted, his arms hovering in the air for a moment before he finally hugged you back, gentle and hesitant and so incredibly warm.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against his shoulder.

He let out a small, breathless laugh, then whispered, “Does- does this mean you’ll be my Valentine?”

You sighed dramatically. “If you weren’t such a nincompoop, you’d have figured that out already.”

His arms tightened just a little, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the giddy little smile in his voice.

"So, you will?!" he smiled brightly as you pulled away, his whole body twitching in excitement, bouncing on his feet.

You had to admit it now; he was so cute...so pretty.

You hugged him once more, your face digging into his neck, making him squeal of happiness.

"How did you know it was me? that send you the gifts?" he asked softly

"Your handwriting is quite disguinishable, Ralph. Besides, no one else calls me 'My Dearest'" you laughed, earning a blush in return.

౨ৎ ₊˚ 𓍢ִ໋ ⬷ ♡ ⊹₊⬷ ₊˚ 𓍢⋆౨ৎ˚

#fluff #x fem!reader #ralph timewasters #ralph penbury #joseph quinn #imagines #oneshot #ami's valentine event #eddie munson #1920s #valentines day #time wasters

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victoria-rue · 2 years ago

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victoria-rue's Recommendation Masterlist part 3

Okay, so, this is my third masterlist. And each masterlist has about 50 stories, so 100+ stories in total. All I'm saying is I might have a problem, but these authors deserve recognition for their amazing works of art. They deserve to be spread out to more people, even if there's only a small amount people that see this. These authors deserve the world ♥︎

Recommendation Masterlist part 1, part 2, part 3, & part 4

Marvel

Miles Morales

❝ white lies ❞ by @berriweb

LINK UP by @qkopi

you loved your boyfriend miles, you really do. he was everything you could ask for; he was handsome, gentle, and very caring towards you like a good boyfriend should be… but there’s also times where he would cancel dates out of nowhere and that would leave you to be disappointed and go home bored. miles then tried to make it up to you by planning to hangout at his place this today, but things go sideways when his twin brother decides to take things into his own hands..

Bereavement by @famwhy

Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?

Peter Parker

Part Of Your World by @waitimcomingtoo

Peter meets a girl who dreams of being where the people are

hoax by @waitimcomingtoo

when Peter strikes out with you but discovers you’re a fan of his alter ego, he gets you tangled in his web of lies

Miguel O'Hara

Across the Street by @quaintii

It's been a couple weeks since a new family moved in, across the street. You go pay them a visit with an offer.

The game of cat and spider by @lucywrites02

You are a criminal and he's a hero. You don't know each other's names, never seen the person behind the mask. You aren't enemies- you are supposed to be but that didn't work out quite well. You liked each other a bit too much, but your relationship was strictly…. Professional? What happens if you meet as normal people, with no masks and responsibilities in your way? What did the universe plan for you? And most importantly…. Will it last?

Daddy Issues by @drefear

Halo by @missdictatorme

You are an AI designed by Miguel. He gave you a unique voice, one he knew he would like listening to. He didn't really gave much thought to how you looked like when he made you a hologram form, he just choose a random picture of a woman from the internet. What happens when you ask for permission to design your own look?

Web of Secrets by @liliacamethyst

Bittersweet Devotion by @diejager

IGOR by @papuhater

Bucky Barnes

i never thought you’d happen to me by @nickfowlerrr

Wade Wilson

Here’s To Us by @baka-bakeneko

Wade's street neighbor needs to use Wade's hot water.

Marc Spector + Steven Grant + Jake Lockley

Already over. by @m00nsbaby

With You by @ivystoryweaver

Eddie Brock/Venom

RUSH HOUR by @ghostheartfelt

you meet eddie during morning rush hour, vv understanding man who admires your connection with your customers and dedication towards your job. eddie's hungry for chocolate (n you), you pique interest in the host and his symbiote.

Miles Morales, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Peter Parker (Spider-Noir)

THIS IS A LIFE by @mo0nfairy

in every universe, spiderman will inevitably lose the one thing that matters most to him: y/n l/n. miguel o'hara, peter parker, and hobie brown have all suffered through this story. they soon discover another version of you is alive, bound to fall in love with miles morales and to die abruptly. with the prospect of a second chance and a newfound obsession, these four men will do anything to keep you at their side.

Detroit become human

Connor RK800

Criminal Analysis by @gogogodzilla

You never pictured this life for yourself. Never pictured that android cases would start piling up and you'd be assigned to figure out why they were deviating. You were a forensic psychologist hired by the Detroit Police Department as a consultant. You usually dealt with figuring out what made suspects tick and why they did what they did. You figured it'd be the same thing, as usual, that is until a certain android walked into your crime scene and completely turned your life upside down.

Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

Finnick Odair book series by @mrsnancywheeler

midnight rain (Book One)

finnick had pulled the plug on your relationship long ago, when he could no longer keep from you what he'd been forced into. but after you've returned victorious from your games, he knows you need him as the nightmares come for you each time you close your eyes.

the lakes (Book Two)

it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

the river (Book Three)

the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

Avatar

Jake Sully

A Child of the Stars by @berry-blue03

you are Jake Sully's six year old daughter, who goes with him to Pandora. Takes place during the first Avatar movie

ꜰᴀʟꜱᴇ ɢᴏᴅ by @teyamsatan

Being one of two human kids left behind after the war, Jake has never seen you as anymore than a little stray cat, always hanging around his village and his kids. All will change one day when the two of you are stranded together, and he gets to discover there's more to you than he ever thought - enough to risk everything he's built for himself in the last 24 years of his life.

Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyo'itan

Do you hate me? by @byunpum

You are the eldest Sully daughter, you are adopted. All your life you have grown up watching tsu'tey, and your feelings for him have grown. Everything changes when one day you go hunting with your crush.

Miles Quaritch

Sweet like cherry by @pandoraslxna

Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.

Damsel, let me de-stress you… by @quaritchsluts

Y/N te Suli Neytiri’ite is captured and imprisoned by Colonel Miles Quaritch and his squad, alongside her childhood friend - Spider - when attempting to aid her younger siblings whom were cornered by the recom team when exploring the woods. As Jake Sully’s eldest child, she knows it won’t be long until her father bites back at the recombinants, as does Miles. Because, how dare he take his precious daughter? His firstborn? So, with the odds against him — as well as the clock — and not to mention the displeased dad on his tail, Miles knows he must do whatever it takes to get all the information out of her that he can. Whatever it takes.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

Ghost girl by @byunpum

After their village was destroyed by humans, Y/N must seek refuge in the forest. Her being rescued by a peculiar family, she discovering that her gift had led her to them.

i remember her hands. and the way the mountains looked. by @vampsywrites

In which the Sullys approach the mountain clan for sanctuary. The Olo'eykte agrees but proposes one condition: Toruk Makto's eldest son must be promised to her daughter. Surprisingly, instead of the solemn response one would expect, Neteyam agrees almost instantaneously.

Jealousy by @eyweveng

You have a secret relationship with Neteyam but find out terrible news from your bestfriend.

~To You He Feels Like Home~ by @ghoul-bonez

You were born to the forest, wild by nature, wild by nurture, and surely wild in spirit. Your animal family had always warned you about strangers, the odd people who looked like you, but when one approaches you, you can’t help but be curious. When your curiosity wears off and you deem him weird enough you’re convinced you’ll never see him again, but Eywa has other plans.

Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan

twin flames by @strangerdangerwrites

Eywa has bonded the Son of the Forest and Daughter of Ember over the pain and grief towards the Sky People.

Ao’nung

Fated Mates by @anemonelovesfiction

-stars- by @adhdduckie

When Y/N, and the sullys first reach the reef, a boy catches her eye, and she does her best to catch his attention. She doesn't believe he likes her back, and she thinks it's ridiculous that she's so whipped for this boy. He seems to have no interest in her.

Ronal & Tonowari

Connection by @blue-sadie

Traveling with the sullys to the Metkayina village and tonowari and ronal falling in love with you at first sight and feeling a connection to you.

Neteyam & Lo'ak

Do It If You Dare by @aonungswifeyy

Picture her being quaritch’s daughter, who tries to kill lo’ak but she gets captured by neteyam and by the end of it all, quaritch finds out she now belongs to both lo’ak and neteyam

Reunion by @yourstrulybluelover

The Sullys have been away for years. They have just returned to the Forrest, not only bringing with them joy and hope but also uprooting masked feelings.

"The Love Shack" by @vivid-ink

You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?…

Actors

Jamie Flatters

ALL THINGS CONNECTED by @yawneneteyam

growing up on set together, y/n and jamie share their love for one another through the only way they know.. filmmaking

Time Wasters

Ralph Penbury

Worth It by @wheels-of-despair

Your mother forces you to go to a Valentine's Day dance with a dull date, but Ralph manages to make your night worthwhile.

Scream

Ethan Landry

Perverted by @demontonic

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 by @n-slayaaaaa

Seeing the Core Four years after an explosive argument ended your friendship brought about plenty of unwelcome emotions—can you let the past go or has your plan for healing old wounds gone too far?

obsessed by @messylustt

getting a call from ghostface is never good. especially when you find out who lives under the mask—the dorky boy who you drunkenly kissed one night.

a father’s malice by @shadesslut

After the Ghostface attacks, Y/N tried her best to move on from Ethan with raising their son, but things get harder after Ethan gets out of jail.

Billy & Stu

Of Friends and Horror by @grimoireofhayley

You have been best friends with Billy Loomis since you both were in diapers, however, when high school hit, Billy's mom had filed for divorce and had left his father. His dad was miserable even in marriage, hence his continuous affairs with Maureen Prescott. Though, after the divorce and his mother leaving, Billy has been different since; He started dating Sidney Prescott, the late Mrs. Prescott's daughter. He never showed an interest in her until now… But why?

The Last Airbender

Zuko

rotations by @reinerispretty

written during the prime of the atla rennaissance (summer 2020), (y/n) is a child of the fire nation aristocracy and a close friend to prince zuko. as circumstances drive the two apart, she finds them thrown back together. this time on opposite sides of a war.

Daughter of the Spirits by @jettingtothemoon

In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se.

Last of Us

Joel Miller

Against All Odds by @and-claudia

Look For the Light by @cowgurrrl

When you left Boston with Joel Miller and a little girl named Ellie, you never thought it would land you in Jackson, Wyoming with a tiny family.

sun bleached flies by @sempersirens

stumbling upon the settlement of jackson whilst 4 months pregnant had almost felt too good to be true. for the past seven years, you had been able to raise your daughter, mia, surrounded by a safe and supportive community. however, your small slice of paradise came tumbling down the day joel miller arrived. despite only crossing paths for a fleeting encounter all those years ago, you would never forget the face of your daughter's father.

Strawberries and Cigarettes by @hischeapcigar

you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most

Miraculous Ladybug

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir

New Bug in Town by @lilian-writes-sins

With Marinette AKA Ladybug gone, Chat Noir has to hold down the fort and protect the city of Paris from Hawkmoth, while waiting for Master Fu to choose the next Ladybug miraculous holder. The city is in disarray for months, with no sign of Ladybug returning, people are starting to lose hope. Until one day, when some passersby see a red and black figure jumping on the rooftops.

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