#Weekly challenge

[gamergirl-niffler]

Reassuring || Teen!Aizawa x Teen!Reader

A/N: This is my entry for the Weekly Challenge! I did my best T_T

It was a beautiful sunny day with the right amount of clouds, making the sun less aggressive.

You groaned when the clouds moved, and suddenly you were hit with sun right into your eyes. Shaking your head you squinted, following your father, a prohero off another patrol.

“Great job, kiddo! As always, you did great! I sent you to the U.A for a reason,” He praised.

It was your second year in the U.A so it meant one thing - Work Study during summer vacation. It was fun, but you wished stuff were different.

Your father looked at you worriedly because of lack of any type of answer or comment from you. “So… how are you holding up, kid? It's been just two days. Despite your eagerness to work, I can't help but worry.”

As the question dropped the sun was again covered by clouds casting a shadow over the two of you. You lowered your head, trying to hold back the tears while recalling the tragic events.

Just two days ago, you and your father were summoned as a support shortly after a big villain attack. For your father it was nothing - day as every day of work, but for you, it was the moment you found out about your best friend Oboro Shirakumo’s cruel faith. 

At least your other friends; Aizawa and Yamade were safe and whole. None of you took it lightly because how could you? Your friend was dead, and all you three could do now was support each other.

“I am… fine,” You nodded, looking at your father. Of course, you did your best to hide your feelings.

He didn't buy it, but at the same time he didn't want to push you nor argue with you. Ruffling your hair, he pulled you closer. “Fine. Let's say I believe you, kiddo. How about your… oh! Speaking about the devil. Ain't it one of your pals?”

You looked in the direction he was looking, and it was indeed Yamada himself.

“You are done for today so go to him,” Your father said, so you did just, quickly greeting your friend. Poor Hizashi looked tired, completely not like his usual self. Which was worrisome.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” You asked.

Hizashi looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess, I am doing as best as I can.”

“Same.” You agreed with him. It was indeed a difficult situation to take in, especially after just two days. 

“I am worried about Shota, ya know. He was never much of a talker, but now it's even worse,” Yamada explained. “I could go to him, but you know I am “too loud” for him so it will be better for you to go to him.”

You weren't even a little surprised that Shota had the biggest trouble with taking it all in. He was there when it happened. 

“I will change my clothes and go to his place to talk with him. I’ll inform you how it went after.”

“That sounds like a plan!” He agreed with you.

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

Refreshed and dressed in your civilian clothes, you knocked at the door to Shota’s place. After a brief moment, his mother opened the door.

The talk with her was short and of course contained a mandatory question of ‘how are you holding up?’

When the chat was over, you made your way to Shota’s room. As a good guest and friend you knocked at the door first, but there was no answer so you allowed yourself inside.

“I didn't say you come in, mom,” Shota muttered, not looking away from the book. He was sitting on the floor of his room with his back resting against the bed.

You chuckled.

“Well Hi to you too Sho.”

He looked at you. “Oh, it's you. Hey.”

“What's ya reading?” You asked and sat next to him, taking a look at the pages.

Shota only shook his head.

“At this point… I don't even know what I am reading. I am just trying to distract myself.”

You looked at him and reached over to gently brush hair out of his face. He looked tired and of course sad. “Let me guess… Hizashi sent you, huh?” Shota asked, nuzzling to your hand just a little.

“That too, but I was worried about you myself,” You explained. “Everyone asks me that so now it's my turn; how are you holding up?”

“Amazing! I was there and I couldn't do anything. Maybe if I wasn't myself, MAYBE it all could go way different. Maybe he would be alive,” he growled.

You blinked, looking at him.

“Shota, you didn't know this would happen. No matter what, this was way beyond your control.”

“I am useless. There was a moment I thought I could actually do something, especially after winning with that big villain, but look, I can't even keep my own friend alive,” He argued with you. “I am useless! Powerless.”

“Shota!” You snapped, grabbing his cheeks and making him look at you. “Stop. Stop saying that. Oboro's death wasn't your fault nor does it mean you are powerless,” you told him, tearing up. “I miss him too, I wish he was still with us but… he is not, and he won't ever again be, and I don't blame you or anyone for it.”

Shota lowered his head, and you moved your hand through his hair, ruffling them a little. “Now all we can do is work hard and, well, start this planned agency.”

He sighed deeply and nodded. “Guess you are right. I miss him.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “I miss him too but it will get better.”

“Let's hope you are right,” Shota said quietly, pushing hair behind your ear. “I will never forget you saying that.”

[doumadono]

Silent Waves, Silent Wounds - Touya Todoroki x Reader

A/N: today's episode broke my heart and made me cry uncontrollably. With a nice prompt set for this week's challenge in a community I'm part of, I decided to combine the two. I just hope my Touya will survive. Gif was made by @gamergirl-niffler

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Touya's first breaths of freedom were laced with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the distant echoes of calamity.

Beneath the flickering streetlights of Musutafu, shadows twirled across the damp pavement, casting the world in veils of half-truths and murmured secrets.

It was upon a night cloaked in despair that Touya Todoroki, shrouded in the remnants of his shattered past, escaped the suffocating confines of what should have been a sanctuary. The hospital, ostensibly a bastion of healing and hope, had morphed into nothing but a prison, all under the malevolent gaze of All For One.

In a moment fueled by raw desperation and a primal urge for freedom, Touya, with hands trembling and heart pounding against the cage of his ribcage, ignited the very foundations that had ensnared him. Flames, hungry and unrestrained, licked upwards, clawing at the structure with a ferocity. Fire roared through the hallways, a fierce, unforgiving inferno that consumed everything in its path — medical charts, synthetic bed linens, the false promises of recovery.

As the inferno raged behind him, Touya stumbled into the cold embrace of the night.

The city loomed large and indifferent, its countless lights flickering like distant stars, unreachable and cold. Each step was a battle, his body a map of wounds both fresh and long endured, scars that told tales he could barely remember, tales of a mere boy who once dreamed of heroism but found himself ensnared in a nightmare of his father's making.

He moved through the shadows, a spectral figure haunted by the echoes of his past and the uncertain horrors of his future. Tonight, the world was both his enemy and his ally, hiding him from those who would seek to drag him back to that hellish place, yet offering no comfort from the relentless grip of his solitude and sorrow. His face, marred with scars that told stories of a tragic past and unresolved pain, was not one that people usually turned to for comfort.

As he navigated through the dimly lit streets, his eyes were cautious and wary of the stares that followed him like specters.

It was then he saw you - a girl sitting alone on the curb, your sobs cutting through the muffled sounds of the city like a siren’s call. You were young, perhaps no older than he, with tears streaking your cheeks and your shoulders trembling under the weight of your unseen burdens.

Despite his fears and the fresh pain of his own memories, something within him stirred - a remnant of the hero he once aspired to be. Hesitant, he approached you, his voice barely above a whisper after he cleared his throat, trying to sound normal, even though he knew it was no longer possible. “Hey, are you okay?”

You jerked your head up, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise as they landed on his disfigured features.

For a heartbeat, Touya thought you would scream, run away, or recoil in horror.

But then, something remarkable happened - your expression softened, and your initial fright melted into a sad, understanding smile. “Not really,” you confessed, wiping your tears away with the back of your shaking hand. “My dad… he drinks too much. And my mom, she doesn’t really care. She threw me out tonight. Said she’d had enough of me being useless.”

The words struck a chord in Touya. Abandonment, pain, a longing for something better - themes that resonated deeply within his own life. Sitting heavily beside you on the cold curb, he offered you a timid smile, one that seemed almost out of place on his scarred visage. "I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a mixture of warmth and a chilling detachment born from years of conditioning under his father’s harsh regime. “I… I know what it’s like to feel like you have no one.”

You studied him, your reddened eyes lingering on his scars with a curiosity born from your own pain rather than judgement. “What happened to you?” you asked gently, perhaps too gently for the horror that his story contained.

Touya looked away, his eyes tracing the patterns of light and shadow on the ground. “I don’t remember everything,” he confessed. “But I know I was trying to prove something to my dad. It didn’t end well, as you can see.”

You sat in silence, the world around you bustling with life, yet oblivious to the shared moment of grief between two strangers.

People passed by, their glances sharp and sometimes filled with a disdain that neither of you were unfamiliar with.

Sensing Touya’s discomfort, you made a decision. “Let’s go somewhere else,” you suggested, a spark of resolve lighting up your tear-stained face. “Somewhere away from prying eyes. I know a nice place, if you'd like to join me.”

Touya nodded casually, “I think I’d like that. I have nowhere to be anyway.”

Without another word, you stood, holding out you hand to help him up. Your touch was warm, a stark contrast to the coldness he had come to expect from the world.

Together, you walked through the deserted streets, your steps in sync, until the city sounds faded into the background, replaced by the soothing rhythm of waves crashing against the shore.

Beneath the expansive canopy of the night sky, the beach lay deserted, bathed in the ethereal, silvery glow of the moon. The ocean before them transformed into a shimmering tapestry, each wave weaving threads of light across the dark canvas of water. It was here, with the cool sand cradling your steps and the vast, relentless sea stretching into infinity, that you discovered a fleeting sanctuary — a momentary escape from the ravages of your tormented existences.

As you settled onto the sand, the ocean's eternal murmurs surrounding you, Touya found himself unexpectedly comforted by the raw, natural beauty of the scene. Yet, he was taken aback when you revealed that it was not just chance that brought you to this tranquil haven in the dead of night.

“I come here often, especially after fights at home,” you confessed softly, your eyes reflecting the moonlight like fragments of a broken mirror. “The sound of the waves… it calms the storm inside me. Maybe it can do the same for you.”

Touya hesitated before his voice broke the silence. "I'm like these waves," he murmured, his voice tinged with a haunting sadness. "Crashing again and again, with no control, no end. I don't even remember why I started… what I was trying to prove." His gaze was lost to the horizon, where the dark sea met the darker sky, his face a mask of sorrow sculpted by the silvery light.

"It's hard, isn't it?" you said softly, pulling your knees closer to your chest, feeling the chill of the night seeping through your clothes. "Feeling like you're caught in a storm with no shelter in sight. I sit here, night after night, wondering if the screaming will ever stop, if there will ever be a night without tears, without all this emptiness."

"Does it help? Coming here, hearing the waves?" Touya asked.

"It doesn't stop the pain," you admitted, "but sometimes, it makes it bearable. The sea doesn't judge, doesn't demand. It just is. And for a little while, I can just be too, without worrying about the next wave that might knock me down."

"I wish I could remember what peace feels like," he confessed, his words blending with the whisper of the wind.

You reached out, your hand brushing against his, a small gesture of comfort in the overwhelming vastness of your shared solitude.

"Maybe we can't go back to who we were," you suggested, your voice a tentative whisper against the symphony of the sea. "But perhaps we can find new reasons to look forward to the sunrise."

Touya's hand trembled slightly under yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he gripped your hand, his hold tentative but needing the connection. "I'd like that," he said, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips, as fragile and fleeting as a wave’s crest as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "To look forward to something, to hope for something better."

[shonen-brainrot]

Stay with me - Bakugo x Reader (hurt-comfort)

masterlist

The chaos of the battlefield was nothing new, but this time, it felt different.

Explosions rocked the earth, shrapnel flying in every direction.

Amidst the chaos, Katsuki found himself uncharacteristically disoriented, his sharp senses dulled by the sheer intensity of the conflict. He cursed under his breath, the taste of blood in his mouth a bitter reminder of his vulnerability.

The villain attack had come out of nowhere, catching everyone off guard. Bakugo had been in the middle of yelling at Kirishima for being too slow when the first blast hit. Now, separated from his classmates, he fought to regain his bearings in the maelstrom of debris and screams.

Through the haze, he saw you.

You were darting between the wreckage, eyes wide with determination and fear. For a moment, relief washed over him, quickly replaced by an unfamiliar pang of dread. You were in danger, and he needed to get to you as fast as possible.

Bakugo’s movements were instinctual as he charged forward, dodging falling beams and leaping over craters. His heart pounded in his chest, a rhythm that matched the chaotic tempo of the battlefield.

Finally, he reached you. Without a word, he grabbed your hand, fingers intertwining with a desperate strength he didn’t realize he possessed.

You looked up at him, surprise flickering in your eyes, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you tightened your grip on his palm.

“We need to move!” Bakugo growled, his voice rough but steady. "Quick!"

The two of you navigated the pandemonium together, your hand in his serving as a lifeline.

Then, it happened. A sharp explosion too close for comfort sent you sprawling to the ground. Pain seared through your leg, and you bit back a scream as you looked down to see a piece of shrapnel embedded in your thigh. Blood poured from the wound, and the world around you seemed to spin.

“Y/N!” Bakugo’s voice was a mixture of panic and fury. He dropped to his knees beside you, eyes wide with fear he couldn’t hide. “Stay with me, damn it!”

You tried to speak, to reassure him, but the pain was too overwhelming. Your vision blurred as tears of agony streamed down your face.

Bakugo’s hand clutched yours with a ferocity that anchored you to the present, his touch the only thing keeping you from slipping into unconsciousness. “Somebody get a medic here, now!” Bakugo roared, his voice echoing over the battlefield. “She’s hurt! We need help!”

His free hand hovered over your wound, trembling as he fought the urge to rip the shrapnel out himself.

In this moment, Bakugo was just a boy, terrified of losing someone he cared about.

“Katsuki,” you managed to gasp, your voice weak. “I’m.. I’m okay.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, but there was no venom in his words. “You’re not okay. Just hold on tight.”

Minutes felt like hours as Bakugo screamed for help, his voice breaking with each plea.

Finally, medics arrived. They worked quickly, assessing your injury and preparing to move you to safety.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Bakugo said, his voice low and strained. “You hear me? You’re gonna be fine.”

As the medics lifted you onto a stretcher, Bakugo refused to let go of your hand. He walked beside you, using his free palm to push damp strands of hair off your sweaty forehead.

You looked up at him, your vision clearing just enough to see the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “Katsuki,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn’t respond with words, but his hand tightened around yours, a silent promise that he would always be there.

[justgaara]

Gaara Week 2024!

Hosted by @justgaara​ !

Hello! And welcome to the TENTH YEAR of Gaara Week! A Gaara focused weekly challenge leading up to his birthday! This weekly challenge will start on the 12th of January and run until Gaara’s Birthday on the 19th of January.

To celebrate ten years we are bringing back themes from the past ten years!

Feel free to draw, write, make, cosplay, sing, dance, take screenshots, make gifs, whatever you want! As long as it has something to do with each separate day’s theme, and you create it yourself. 

The year 2024′s themes:

12th January - DAY 1 - Just Gaara

13th January - DAY 2 - Kazekage

14th January - DAY 3 - Love

15th January - DAY 4 - Gardener

16th January - DAY 5 - Mr. Sandman

17th January - DAY 6 - Wounds will Heal

18th January - DAY 7 - Family

19th January - DAY 8 - Gaara’s Birthday!

Tag all your contributions with #gaaraweek and #gaaraweek2024! Make sure they’re in the first 5 tags listed otherwise they may not show up! You can also submit your creations to @justgaara​ or message me directly.

If you’re busy and don’t have time to join in everyday, then you’re welcome to pick out your favourites and just do a few. I will be following the tags all January, so if you don’t make it in time for this exact week, you are still able to complete the challenge in your own time. If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask me over at @justgaara.

You are free to create whatever you want with each day’s theme, just know that @justgaara is strictly Gaara only, so if you make something that contains anyone else besides Gaara and his immediate family I won’t be able to share it on my blog.

Know that hate or negativity of any kind will not be tolerated.

Thank you and have fun!

DO YOUR PART! SHARE THIS POST WITH A REBLOG!

IT’S TIME TO CELEBRATE GAARA’S BIRTHDAY!

@narutoevents Hosted by @justgaara (Mod @samantha-scribbles )

[writingdotcoffee]

Challenge: 100 Hours of Writing

That sounds like a lot, doesn't it? Writing for an hour or two can be exhausting. Imagine doing it for 100 hours.

Nobody can write for four days straight. That'd be insane.

The great thing about writing is that you can spread it over as long a period as you want. In fact, if you write for about two hours per week, you will hit the 100-hour milestone in a year. That is

17 minutes every day,

or 24 minutes every working day,

or 30 minutes every other day,

or two 1-hour sessions,

or one intense 2-hour session every week.

That sounds doable, right? You can also mix and match. Write a bit every day, then take a break and do a long writing session on Saturday night. As long as you stay consistent and write for at least two hours every week, you'll be on your way to 100 hours.

What Can You Do in 100 Hours?

Aside from earning this award (if you use Writing Analytics), 100 hours is enough to finish a draft of a novel.

If you can write about 800 per hour or 1,600 words per week on average, you will write 80,000 words in a year. That is

230 words every day,

or 320 words every working day,

or 400 words every other day,

or 800 words twice weekly,

or 1,600 words once a week.

Again, you can mix and match. Do something else every week. Get to 1,600 every week, and you will reach your goal.

Keep in mind that these numbers are on the conservative side. I consider myself a slow writer, and I write faster than that. Some people can blaze through 1,600 words in 30 minutes.

The Challenge

This week, I want to challenge you to see if you can fit two hours of writing into your weekly schedule. It doesn't matter if you power through the whole thing at once or write for 17 minutes every day.

Here's the important part: If you can write for two hours per week, you have what it takes to finish a book.

If you'd like to write along with us, join the challenge in Writing Analytics:

https://app.writinganalytics.co/challenge/64917a6fe7b6ddfbda7281e6

The app tracks your writing time and lets you set time goals, which makes this super easy.

[study-diaries]

Weekly Goals

I've been really lazy these past two weeks since summer break started so i think this is a good way to track my progress and productivity.

Complete a course on digital marketing (which I was ignoring for a long time)

Finish atleast 2 books

Complete atleast 5+ lessons in Arabic

Start attending summer course classes (also Arabic)

Clean my closet

Wake up alittle earlier (it's not gonna happen but let's believe it will)

Watch a movie

[clarianes]

Made a weekly challenge with friends and I delivered the fierce tiny bean himself 🤠

[mochie85]

Congratulations!!🎉🎈🍾

Could you please do fluff prompt 48 You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” with Tom and shorter reader?

Falling Star

1K Masterlist One-shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: It's Hollywood's biggest night and Tom is hoping to win more than just an Oscar. A/N: Part of my 1k Celebration and @the-slumberparty week 3 writing challenge: Something New. I've never written short-reader trope before. Thank you to @lokisgoodgirl for being my BETA reader and @michelleleewise for some great ideas. I don't know how I could continue to write without your ladies' endless support 😘😘😘. And thank you to @huntress-artemiss for the request. Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Fluff Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Tom looked into the mirror as he rinsed the suds off his hands. Shaking off the excess water, he reached for a towel and dried them. He looked straight into his eyes, trying to keep the nervousness at bay.

It’s a big night for you. You’re going to do fine. You’re probably not going to win anyway, Tom sighed. Just focus on one thing and the rest of the night will go smoothly.

He ran his hands through his hair and pinched his bow tie one last time before he made his way out into the lobby. Focus on one thing, he repeated in his head.

These award shows always leave him a nervous wreck. He never expects to win. When he does, of course, it’s great, but then it brings on a whole new emotion of excitement and anxiety.

When he doesn’t win, it tends to be worse. He has to find that right balance of remorse and humbleness so that the media doesn’t portray him in an evil lie.

Oh, he could read the tabloids now, “And the Oscar goes to…, not Tom Hiddleston.” Or “Hiddles angry that he didn’t win his Oscar. Pictures and commentary on page 3.” He laughed about it internally, a smile on his face as he fixed his cufflinks.

“Come on man. Took you long enough,” Chris exclaimed patting his back. “I think they stuck most of us in the same row.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. It’d be nice to see some familiar faces again.” Tom recounted the last time he saw anyone from The Avengers movie. The movie that brought together and cemented the friendship of seven individuals.

“I think Scarlet wants you to sit next to her.”

“Oh no. Does she?” Tom fretted.

“What?” Chris wondered.

“She’s been trying to set me up with one of her acquaintances,” Tom rolled his eyes.

“She can be quite persistent,” Hemsworth laughed.

Tom sighed as he accompanied Chris across the massive lobby. The plush red carpet matched the dramatic drapes hung from the ceiling. At the end of the hall was a grand staircase leading upstairs to the auditorium's main entrance.

The two friends stood in line waiting to ascend the stairs as photographers and reporters lined the banisters calling out their names, hoping to get an interview. Tom tried to drown out the noise. He tried to focus on one thing before he went crazy, and his anxiety took over. Tom took a deep breath. Just focus on one thing, he chanted in his head.

He opened his eyes and focused on the first thing he saw, an intricate design of beadwork and crystal that was in front of him. Tiny gold stars were scattered on a black sateen gown. They clustered at the top hem of the dress and sporadically fell towards the bottom. The back of the gown was secured by a beaded pin of a crescent moon, gracing your bare lower back. The whole gown looked like star fall plummeting in the night sky.

“Chris,” Tom whispered. “Is this whom I think it is?” Tom stared hard at your graceful figure. Not once taking his eyes off you. Chris gazed hard at you trying to see whom Tom was talking about.

“Ayee...yup. Yes, that’s her.”

“Didn’t she win the Oscar last year for…”

“Yes. I believe she did.” Chris mused.

“Is she up for anything tonight?”

“I think she’s presenting, actually.”

You gathered your dress, preparing to walk up the imposing staircase. Looking around you making sure you were not going to trip on your own outfit, you held your left hand out to steady yourself as you took that first step.

Tom, sensing you needed help, took your outstretched hand. “May I escort you up the stairs?”

The sudden voice and unexpected contact must have shocked you. You looked up at him with a startled expression and a blush on your face. A small smile graced his lips as he noted the sparkle in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you whispered, as photographers flashed their cameras at your interaction. Tom held your hand firmly as you gathered the rest of your dress in your other hand. Focused on making each step, Tom held on to you tightly, becoming the anchor you needed in such a cumbersome gown. “They must have altered this dress three times already just for me. But they can’t seem to get the length right. Even with me in heels,” you admitted shyly.

Tom laughed, finally noticing the height difference between you two. He was so used to towering over everyone, he never really gave it much thought.  “Well, it looks lovely on you. You look beautiful tonight.” You looked up suddenly at his compliment. Heat radiating down your skin. Your eyes arrested his thoughts and hitched his breathing, making him at a loss for words.

“The…uh…the dress. The dress is quite beautiful. Oh, not to say that you’re not beautiful. You are! You’re beautiful. In the dress. Oh, God. Please tell me I haven’t botched this up completely?” He stuttered, hiding his face in his palm. You laughed and squeezed his hand.

You almost fumbled at the top step, if it weren’t for him holding on to you so securely. “Thank you,” you said once again, and he reluctantly let go of you. “Good luck tonight. I hope you win,” you said, cheering him on.

“Thank you. You, too. Me too. I-I mean I hope so,” Tom stumbled on his words. You smiled at him once again, heading inside, leaving him to stare after you.

“Smooth,” Chris said, clapping Tom on his shoulder. “Real smooth.”

“Ugh, I’m a complete knob!”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t think she noticed,” Chris said laughing.

Inside, the auditorium was stuffy and pompous. Two hours of everyone with their forged smiles and mock interests. Scarlet did manage to get Tom to sit next to her. She mentioned a friend of a friend who’s a writer for a late-night talk show in Los Angeles. Tom tried his best to be courteous but not commit to anything serious.

Minutes. Hours. They seem to drag by as the night continued up until it was time to announce Best Female Performance in a Leading Role. Tom knew you weren’t nominated for anything tonight, but that didn’t stop him from wondering where you were.

Were you sitting somewhere in the audience with other nominees? Or perhaps you were backstage mingling with some of tonight’s winners. It wouldn’t be long now till they got to the category he was nominated for, which made him nervous.

The heat in the room suddenly increased tenfold and the noise of the audience started to echo in his mind. Their clapping died down as the winner was announced and accepted her award. Focus on one thing. Focus on one thing. He closed his eyes as he took a lungful of air in. Breathing slowly.

Exhaling, Tom opened his eyes and suddenly everything else disappeared. Every sound went silent. Every light dimmed, focusing on a central spotlight on stage. And all he could see was you.

You walked out, unaccompanied, to the soundtrack of your award-winning movie. Tom watched you carefully, knowing full well that you were anxious about your dress and stumbling. With a cool look and a smile on your face, you hid your anxiety about tripping. You demonstrated exactly why you were worthy of that Oscar last year. Carefully taking a calculated step toward the podium and ignoring your long, imposing gown.

“Last year, I was very fortunate to stand up on this very stage and accept the award for Best Female Performance in a Leading Role…”

Tom tried to focus on you, instead of the nagging anxiety that was wracking his brain. Your gown had taken on a different hue under the bright spotlights. It had turned to a rich navy blue. The sequences on the stars shone brighter, glittering to gather everyone’s attention.

“This evening will be another night of firsts for me as I present the award for Best Male Performance in a Leading Role.” Tom was awestruck as he watched you on stage. Your smile was charming, and your laughter was contagious.

Tom heard you say his name twice that night. Once when you were reading the nominees. And the next, when you announced that he won. Chris and Scarlett patted him on the back and tried to wake him from his stupor.

“Mate, you better get up there,” Chris whispered, hugging him on his way. Tom was mesmerized. He couldn’t believe that he won. His nervousness threatened to eat him up whole as he stood up and made his way onstage. He remained focused on you instead, clapping for him as he made his way up more stairs.  You handed him his statue along with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

All at once, he faced the audience and didn’t know what to say. “I- uh…” Tom held on to the statue tightly and looked back at you.  You gave him a reassuring smile and he found that your calming presence helped alleviate his anxiety. “I wasn’t expecting to win tonight. Forgive me, I had no speech prepared,” Tom continued as the audience laughed.

He concluded his speech with thanks to the Academy, other nominees, and his friends and family for all their support.  

After a rousing applause, he made his way to follow you off the stage. He’d hoped to escort you like earlier and have another intimate moment with you. As you turned, your foot caught on the front of the dress causing you to fall forward.

In a heroic move, Tom sprinted to your side and caught you. His arms wrapped around your waist as you turned right-side up. He lunged forward before you fell to the floor, cradling your head.

There was a collective gasp from the audience as they watched the scene unfold. A heated blush spread throughout your body.

“Are you all right?” he asked, alarmed.

“Oh, my God. Yes! Thank you,” you stuttered, holding onto his lapels tightly.

“Of course, darling,” he said as he helped you stand back up.

“You seemed to be saving me a great deal tonight,” you gave him an apologetic look as you ran your hands over your dress. Tom offered his arm, and you gladly took it, hoping you wouldn’t trip again. “Oh, God. I’m so embarrassed. I must’ve looked like an idiot out there.”

“Nonsense, you look magnificent,” Tom replied, kissing your hand.

Tom sat in the dining area of the hotel room. Bright morning light shone through the windows as he read the newspapers and magazines sent to the room, along with the room service. It seemed that all anyone talked about was your tumble from last night and how he caught you. Rumors began to spread as everyone gave their opinions on the matter.

“Did Hiddleston win more than just an Oscar last night?” “Secret Relationship: How long have they been together?” “Was it staged?” These were not the headlines he was expecting to read this morning. A small smile crept on his face seeing all the pictures from different angles.

A soft moan stole his attention as you wrapped your arms around from behind him. “Come back to bed.” You gently kissed his neck, and he could still smell the lingering perfume in your hair.

“I ordered breakfast for us, darling,” he said with a soft whimper.

“How very thoughtful of you,” you teased. Tom grabbed your arm and pulled you around to sit on his lap. He noted that you were wearing nothing but his dress shirt from last night. The sleeves were rolled up and the tails sat just at your knees. You were swimming in his shirt, a look that he was starting to like more and more. Your tousled morning hair reminded him of the carnal way you both took each other last night.

“…Unnhh…” you moaned as he hoisted you against the wall. “Take this infernal dress off me. Please.” “With pleasure,” he snarled.

You sat with your legs over the handrest of the chair as you picked up the papers and read them. A scowl formed on your face the more you read. “I’m sorry, Tom. All this over me falling. I didn’t mean to take away from your big night.”

“That’s quite all right darling. As far as I’m concerned they can keep reporting it all they want.”

You looked at him through your lashes. His tall frame and long arms surround you, cherishing you.

“Why?” you asked coyly.

“Because in every picture, I get to see that mesmerizing look on your face.”

“What look?” you provoked.

“The same look I had on my face when I caught you.”

“And what was that?” you giggled.

“Like you were the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

@emarich7 @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr

[paradoxical-scribbler]

7 DAY / WEEKLY WRITING CHALLENGE

WORDS STARTING WITH: I

IDOLOMANIA: obsession or devotion to idols

IKHLAAS: sincerity; great affection

IKIGAI: a reason for being; a reason for getting up in the morning

ILLECEBROUS: alluring; enticing

INAAYAT: kindness; courtesy; favour

INDURATIZE: to resist or harden one's own heart to the idea of love

IRUSU: the act of pretending to not be home when someone knocks at the door

WORDS STARTING WITH: A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I

[masterbeta29]

Seeing that Kalos is being the topic of conversation lately, and to celebrate the confirmation of PokemonLegendsZA , one of my favorite Gen 6 pokemon

Week 7: Espurr

[gamergirl-niffler]

Keeping You Close To Keep You Safe || Genshin x reader headcanons

A/N: This is my entry for the Weekly Challenge! I really tried my best so I hope it's at least a little bit good.

Prompt: grabbing each other's hands in crowds to "be safe"

Neuvillette

💧 The two of you decided to go and see Lyney magic shows.

💧 Recently you both had a lot of work on your shared shoulders so this was a nice idea to relax.

💧 The whole Opera Epiclese is filled to the brim with people who also want to see the magic.

💧 You aren't a fan of crowds.

💧 Neuvillette is fully aware of your dislike of crowds. He isn't a fan of them himself.

💧 "Maybe we should leave? There will be other magic shows soon. Maybe then there will be less people?" You suggest, giving Neuvillette a soft smile.

💧 He looks at you and shakes his head. "No need. Allow me," Iudex says softly and offers you his hand. "This way, you'll stay close to me. If you don't mind."

💧 You give him a nod and place your hand in his. "I don't mind at all. Thank you."

💧 Neuvillette smiles, giving your hand a soft squeeze as he leads the both of you to your seat.

💧 Your hands stay intertwined long after the start of the show.

Tighnari

☘️ It's not uncommon for you to get into trouble while on the patrol. 

☘️ You are a very experienced ranger yet still tend to be a literal magnet for problems. 

☘️ Tighnari likes you BUT he is getting tired of this. Thankfully he has an easy solution for this.

☘️ He simply joins you on your next patrol. Rightfully so, you are surprised but you aren't complaining. 

☘️ Everything is going fine. That is until you decide to stray away to check something and get attacked by Dendroshroom.

☘️ Thankfully you are saved by Tighnari. "I swear to Archon. How are you still alive?" He asks, shaking his head.

☘️ "I guess I am very lucky?" You shrug, getting up from the group. After this you join him back on the main patch.

☘️ At some point you want to stray away again but this time Tighnari grabs your hand, holding it tightly. "Just to be safe. I'll hold your hand until this patrol is over."

☘️ You blink but nod, realizing that you indeed were a bit of a problem. "Okay. That sounds reasonable"

☘️ He squeezes your hand with a nod. "At least I don't need to worry about you."

Diluc

🔥 You agreed to join Diluc on one of those fancy banquets.

🔥 You just walk around to check out everything while he is away until you feel a tap on your shoulder.

🔥 There is a tall man, dressed in probably the most expensive outfit you have ever seen with many rings decorating his slim fingers. 

🔥 "Forgive me for bothering you, but such a beauty shouldn't wander around alone. How about you join me?" He offers with a soft, a little menacing smile.

🔥 You are about to politely decline his kind offer  when you are pulled to the side by Diluc. "This beauty already has company. You can go now," he says and you can feel the tension in his voice.

🔥 "Very well. Time is money, I won't waste it on fighting over a woman," the man shrugs and walks away.

🔥 "You could be a little nicer," you remind, looking up at him.

🔥 Diluc scoffs and intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm. "I won't be nice while dealing with the Fatui Harbinger."

🔥 You gasp and look in a man's direction. "He is one of them?”

🔥 "Yeah but you are safe with me. I promise," Diluc assures you, giving your hand a squeeze.

[doumadono]

Synopsis: in a surprising twist orchestrated by Toga Himiko, two antisocial League of Villains members, Dabi and you, find an unexpected connection during an awkward blind date

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

You’ve never been one for socializing. The whole concept of small talk, mingling, and putting yourself out there has always felt foreign to you. After all, socializing was never your strong suit, and you were quite content with your single status. You’ve always preferred the comfort of a good book or the solitude of your thoughts. 

But that’s exactly why Toga took it upon herself to organize a blind date for you. She’s always been a bit of a meddler, and apparently, your perpetual singleness was too tempting a problem for her to ignore. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” she had chirped with her usual manic enthusiasm. "Trust me, you'll love him!" Toga had chirped with a mischievous grin. "He's just like you - hates socializing, too!"

And you had no choice but to go along with it, if only to get her to stop pestering you. 

Toga had transformed one of the dingy rooms into something that vaguely resembled a romantic setting. There were candles (probably stolen), a table (slightly wobbly), and two chairs (one missing a leg but propped up with a stack of books). It was sweet in its own chaotic way, very much in line with Toga’s personality.

You sat down, fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth, wondering who in the world Toga could have set you up with. She had been annoyingly secretive about the whole thing, dropping hints that only served to confuse you more. For a moment, you wondered if Himiko might have set you up with no one else but Shigaraki himself. The boss was the most antisocial person you’d ever met, which could mean this date would be an absolute nightmare. But there was no backing out now. 

The door creaked open, and Dabi walked in. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. 

Dabi? Of all people? 

The blue-flamed villain looked as disinterested as ever, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded with boredom. “Great,” he muttered, not even trying to hide his lack of enthusiasm. “Toga’s matchmaking now.”

You offered a small, awkward smile. “Looks like it.”

Dabi slouched into the chair across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence. Finally, he spoke. “So, how did Toga rope you into this?” he asked, his tone as dry as sandpaper.

You shrugged. “She didn’t really give me a choice. And you?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty much the same. I guess she thinks we’re both too antisocial for our own good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “She might be right about that.”

Dabi chuckled, a low, almost menacing sound. “Sounds like her. She loves meddling in other people’s business.”

You nodded, grateful for the small talk. “Yeah, she’s something else.”

Another awkward silence fell over you. You glanced around the room, trying to think of something to say. Your eyes landed on a small stack of books in the corner, and an idea popped into your head. “You like reading?” you asked, nodding towards the books.

Dabi followed your gaze and scoffed. “Not really. I only read articles about how great heroes are supposed to be.”

You blinked in surprise. “Why’s that?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So I can read between the lines and find their weak spots. It’s more fun tearing them down when you know their flaws.”

"I saw you reading something about Endeavor earlier," you ventured, trying to sound nonchalant. You were still new, still trying to weave yourself into the fabric of the League without causing too much disruption.

Dabi’s smirk faltered slightly, and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, did ya?”

“Yeah,” you continued, curious. “You were pretty engrossed in it. Do you like Endeavor?”

His eyelid gave a slight twitch, a nearly imperceptible movement, but it was the blue flames dancing over his knuckles that caught your attention. They flickered menacingly as he slowly clenched his hands into fists. "He’s just my main interest," Dabi replied, his voice dripping with a wry amusement that did not reach his eyes. There was something ominously calm about the way he spoke, a laid-back tone that contrasted sharply with the dangerous glint in his gaze.

Looking to shift the heavy atmosphere that his words had conjured, you ventured to a lighter topic, one that might catch him off-guard in a humorous way. “So, you’ve read everything about him, huh? What about fanfiction? Ever dive into that rabbit hole?”

Dabi made a scoffing sound, a dismissive and sharp exhalation that cut through the levity like a knife. His gaze hardened, the blue flames flickering dangerously as if they were an extension of his simmering rage. “I don’t give a fuck about what people write about that scumbag,” he said, his voice cold and scornful. “How they idolize him in the creations of their sick minds,” he continued, his lips twisting into a derisive sneer. “But I’m sure they’re as sick as Todoroki Enji himself. One day, I’m going to destroy that fucker,” Dabi declared, his words not just a promise but a vow, laden with all the intensity of his deep-seated hatred. 

After a moment, his fire faded out, and Dabi leaned back in his chair, looking you over. “So, I assume you read when you’re not being forced into awkward dates?”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go with honesty. “I read a lot. Mostly horror novels. And I like to cook. It’s calming.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cool, I guess.”

The conversation continued like that, awkward and stilted at first, but slowly easing into something more comfortable. You talked about books and movies, some random stuff like your favorite food types, your mutual disdain for social gatherings, and the absurdity of Toga’s matchmaking efforts. 

At one point, Himiko burst into the room with a tray of hastily made snacks, beaming with pride. “How’s it going, lovebirds?”

Dabi shot her a withering look, slowly cocking his eyebrow. “We’re not lovebirds, Toga.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “But it’s going surprisingly well. As you can see, I’m still alive.”

Toga clapped her hands together. “I knew it! You two are perfect for each other. I’m a genius!”

She scampered off, leaving you and Dabi to your conversation. 

Despite the unusual setting and the odd circumstances, you found yourself actually enjoying the evening. 

Dabi’s dry wit and cynical outlook somehow meshed well with your own reserved nature. Dabi might not be the most conventional date, but there was something about him that intrigued you. And for someone who had always avoided socializing, that was saying something.

“So, how did you end up joining the League?” you asked, munching a jelly bean.

Dabi leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Wanted to burn the world down, found like-minded people. What about you?”

You shrugged, not wanting to delve too deeply into your past just yet. “Wanted to make a difference in my own way. The heroes… they never really helped people like me.”

Dabi’s eyes glinted with a hint of understanding. “Yeah, they’re all hypocrites.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “What about you, rookie? What do you think of the League so far?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “It’s different. I mean, it’s not what I expected, but in a good way. Everyone’s really passionate about what they believe in.”

Dabi’s gaze softened slightly as he scoffed. “Yeah, we’re a pretty dysfunctional family. But it works somehow.”

“Have you ever thought about what you’ll do after all this?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Dabi shrugged. “No. And I don’t really care. Guess I’m more of a ‘live in the moment’ kind of guy. What about you?”

You took a moment to think. “I’m not sure. I just want to find a place where I belong. Somewhere I can be myself without having to pretend.”

Dabi’s smirk returned. “Sounds like the League’s not a bad fit for you, then.”

"What do you think of Shigaraki as a leader?"

Dabi smirked, slowly stretching his fingers. "He's got vision, I'll give him that. We might be a bunch of misfits, but he’s the glue that holds us together. For now."

"Do you think he’ll succeed?" you tilted your head to the side.

As long as he keeps his head on straight and doesn’t get too ambitious too fast, maybe. But I have my own plans, too, and I rather focus on them.”

Curious to learn more about him, you asked, “What were you like before joining the League?”

Dabi’s expression darkened momentarily. “Let’s just say, I’ve had my fair share of shitty experiences. But that’s the past, and the past never fucking dies.”

You sensed his reluctance to dive deeper, so you shared a bit about yourself instead. “I was a loner. Never really fit in anywhere.”

He taunted, “Yeah, I get that. We’re all here because we don’t fit in out there.” Eventually, Dabi leaned forward after lazily chewing a cracker, his expression serious for once. “This evening wasn’t as terrible as I thought it’d be. And you weren't that bad either. Maybe we could do it again sometime. Without Toga’s interference, of course. I know a few nice places, far enough from these crazy maniacs.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest as you giggled, “I’d like that, Dabi.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, me too, actually.”

Perhaps there was something to be said for this whole notion of socializing after all. Maybe it could bring a little light into the shadows.

[shonen-brainrot]

Together - Bakugo x Reader (comfort)

masterlist

The soft light of early morning spills through the window, painting the bedroom in hues of gold and rose. You wake to the familiar weight of his arm draped across your waist, his breathing steady and deep, his face relaxed in a rare, peaceful expression. Katsuki Bakugo doesn’t look this calm often, not anymore. Not since the war.

You move carefully, not wanting to disturb him. But as you try to shift, his grip tightens ever so slightly. Even in sleep, his instincts are sharp. You glance over your shoulder, catching the way his jaw clenches, his brows furrowing in that familiar scowl even now.

You wonder if he’s dreaming of the battlefield again.

It’s been nearly 10 years since the dust of the final battle settled. The world has changed so much. The heroes are rebuilding, trying to restore what was lost. Bakugo’s name is whispered with reverence across the nation — Dynamight, the one who helped bring peace. But to you, he’s Katsuki. Your Katsuki, the boy who used to snarl at you for getting too close, and now, the man who can’t sleep without his hand resting on your skin, as if anchoring himself to something that isn’t the chaos.

You can tell when he’s having a bad day. He doesn’t talk about it — he never does — but the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes cloud over, those signs are enough. You’ve learned to read him in ways no one else can. But you wish, sometimes, that he would share the weight he carries, that he’d let you into the storm raging in his mind.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, gently shifting to face him. The sound of his name from your lips, soft and tender, works like a tether. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, they’re unfocused, still lost in the remnants of some distant war.

He blinks, and the sharpness returns. He’s here. With you.

“Morning,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep. His hand moves to your cheek, calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s a small gesture, one that he doesn’t even seem to think about, but it sends warmth blooming in your chest. The touch is gentle — so unlike the explosive power in his hands when he’s out there saving the world. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes locking with his. The scars on his face are more prominent in the morning light, reminders of the battles you both fought to get here. But to you, they’re not marks of violence. They’re proof of his resilience, his strength, his will to survive and protect.

“You okay?” you ask softly, knowing the answer but asking anyway. 

He huffs, his typical response, but his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness he doesn’t often let others see. “Tch. 'Course I am.”

You smile, but it’s tinged with concern. You know him better than that. You reach up, taking his hand in yours and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, feeling the small tremor that runs through him at the intimate gesture. His walls are strong, but they crumble for you, in moments like these, when the world feels far away and it's just the two of you, suspended in the quiet aftermath of everything.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not with me.”

His eyes darken for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. He shifts, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair, which falls rebelliously across his face. He doesn’t respond right away. Bakugo’s never been good with words, not when it comes to things that matter most. But then, after a long pause, he sighs.

“It’s just…” He stops, jaw tightening. “It’s not over. Not for me.”

You reach out, gently brushing the hair out of his eyes, the same way he always does for you. The small act feels like an unspoken promise — that you’re here, that you always will be by his side.

“I know,” you say softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, Katsuki. Always.”

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability there takes your breath away. He reaches for you, pulling you close, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It’s not an apology, not an admission of weakness. But in his silence, you find his answer.

You hold him, running your fingers through his hair, feeling his heartbeat slowly calm against yours. The world may never fully heal from the wounds left behind, but in this moment, here with him, you believe that you both will find a way to keep moving forward. Together.

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Microfic May Week 2 Challenge

-A/An (do not use either)

@microficmay

Two months ago.

Their friendship had blossomed into something she held dear to her. His crooked, relaxed smiles something she searched for, like buried treasure. Whatever would cause that smile to appear, she would attempt it.

Coffee and scones in the morning. The latest copy of the Prophet already on his desk. Souvenirs from places she traveled.

He would always reward her with one of his lazy smiles. Pleasing him secretly made her feel something new. Something bright and airy. Something close to euphoric.

She had always considered herself the people pleasing type. She considered it one of her biggest flaws. She considered that this might have been behind the feats she went to in order to please Draco.

But it was after fighting with Ron, due to his list of everything wrong with her long and ever growing, when she knew the worst of her flaws was one Ron hadn’t listed.

Draco had reached for her hand, for comfort. Electricity sparked between their palms. She was in her chair, he on top of her desk.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She managed to say, her eyes focused on their hands.

“What is that, Granger?”

“I shouldn’t be crying.”

“You should never be crying.” He responded as his eyes lowered to the hands he held in his lap. “I’d rather see you angry than cry.”

She chuckled. One of Draco’s flaws was to find ways antagonize her, to annoy her. It worked, often enough. He just didn’t know that she secretly enjoyed it, enjoyed the challenge. Enjoyed him.

She wiped away her tears and stood, putting her eye level with him. Despite the storm in his eyes, they were gentle as they roamed her face. Ron had never looked at her the way Draco has. And she had never felt more alive than when Draco looks at her. Like she is all there ever was, all he’d ever need.

She felt the breath stutter in her throat when his eyes dipped to her lips.

He turned away, catching himself and stared hard at the wall. She watched his jaw clench, the muscles flexing as if working out words that might fill the void suddenly left between them.

But it was she who needed him. It was impulsive and it was reckless, but everything inside of her was buzzing with some manic energy that caused her stomach to twist and tighten.

“Draco,” She whispered. He continued to stare at the wall. “Look at me.” She wished her voice had been more sturdy, more confident. But maybe that wouldn’t have been them. They were real, honest. Her vulnerability was not something she had ever had to hide from him.

The worst of her flaws was her inability to accept the simple fact of the matter. Which was that she needed Draco. In more ways than one.

Draco’s head finally turned toward her. Slowly and apprehensively.

She was already leaning forward and when he finally turned fully, she pressed her lips to his.

There was no hesitation in his reply. He kissed her with ease. As if they had been doing it their entire lives. Hands in her hair, tilting her face. Tongue slipping in, the kiss deepening.

She finally tasted Draco.

“Hermione,” He sighed into her mouth.

She tasted his breath, his tongue, his lips.

He tasted like hers.

[justgaara]

Gaara Week 2023

Hosted by @justgaara​ !

Hello! And welcome to what will be the ninth year of Gaara Week! A Gaara focused weekly challenge leading up to his birthday! This weekly challenge will start on the 12th of January and run until Gaara’s Birthday on the 19th of January.

Feel free to draw, write, make, cosplay, sing, dance, take screenshots, make gifs, whatever you want! As long as it has something to do with each separate day’s theme, and you create it yourself. 

The year 2023′s themes:

12th January - DAY 1 - Opening

13th January - DAY 2 - Ruins

14th January - DAY 3 - Magnetic

15th January - DAY 4 - Solitude

16th January - DAY 5 - Holiday

17th January - DAY 6 - Opposites

18th January - DAY 7 - Ending

19th January - DAY 8 - Gaara’s Birthday!

Tag all your contributions with #gaaraweek and #gaaraweek2023! Make sure they’re in the first 5 tags listed otherwise they may not show up! You can also submit your creations to @justgaara​ or message me directly.

If you’re busy and don’t have time to join in everyday, then you’re welcome to pick out your favourites and just do a few. I will be following the tags all January, so if you don’t make it in time for this exact week, you are still able to complete the challenge in your own time. If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask me over at @justgaara.

You are free to create whatever you want with each day’s theme, just know that  @justgaara is strictly Gaara only, so if you make something that contains anyone else besides Gaara and his immediate family I won’t be able to share it on my blog.

Know that hate or negativity of any kind will not be tolerated.

Thank you and have fun!

DO YOUR PART! SHARE THIS POST WITH A REBLOG! IT’S TIME TO CELEBRATE GAARA’S BIRTHDAY!

[aenariasbookshelf]

Title: untitled fic preview for @darcylewisbingohq

Darcy Lewis Bingo Weekly Challenge: Catch Up Week (Pirates! 🏴‍☠️)

Author: Aenaria

Fandom: MCU

Pairing: None yet but if you know me you know where this is going…

Rating: this excerpt is generally safe

Warnings: talk of an arranged marriage

Summary: once upon a time @typhoidmeri and @chrissihr dared me to write about pirate!Steve. This is the start of it, though this is more Darcy’s story than anyone else’s.

*

The rest of the walk into the heart of the city is, thankfully, quiet, if not increasingly humid and warm the closer Miss Darcy gets to the ocean. But she’s determined not to let a little heat stop her from her mission. If she stops, she’ll end up back with her mother, forced into a marriage that she has no desire whatsoever to be in.

She fans herself with the open flap of the coat anyway, because the sweat is thick on her brow. Maybe it’ll give her the air of disrespectability she needs to get a ride on a boat.

The roads begin to slope downwards the closer she gets to the docks, the buildings growing closer together and turning the streets into crowded rabbit warrens. It’s easier to keep to the shadows this way, however, so Miss Darcy keeps moving on, mentally reviewing her plan. She’ll go directly to the boats first, as it’s likely too early in the morning for the pubs to be open. Hopefully someone will be sympathetic to her plight, if not moved by the gold she can offer in exchange. If that doesn’t work, or no one’s available, there will inevitably be a place in the town where she can trade a ring for some quiet lodgings for a day or two to regroup and come up with something else.

A risky plan? Yes. For more reasons than just the obvious. But she also knows that the town is known for pirates. A single woman arriving in town looking for a quiet place to stay wouldn’t be the strangest thing this town has seen.