#ignoring the world’s most precious little bean…

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER ONE

01 : ARRIVAL

SERIES SUM. : (A Marauders Era Fix-It-Fic - featuring Reader as Walburga Black but better)

You wake up in pitch blackness and under excruciating pain. It isn't too long before you realise that you've been transported into the world of Harry Potter…and you've taken the place of a familiar villainess - Walburga Black. You need to escape this toxic family. The first order of business is Divorce AND YOU'RE DEFINITELY TAKING THE KIDS!

CHPT. SUM. : you take a familiar villainess' place, but it's all just a dream, right?

TAGS. : son sirius black/mother reader ; son regulus black/mother reader ; marauders fix-it-fic ; transferring into harry potter series (marauders era) au ; reader is a harry potter fan ; but not a JKR fan ; walburga black is no more ; or is she? ; pre-marauders era ; sirius black is an angry child ; regulus black is a precious baby ; big brother sirius being a little jealous ; mentions of child abuse (not explicit) ; orion black can eat dirt ; kreacher is a precious bean ; not canon compliant ; the journey begins! 

LENGTH : 6.3k

1st August 1971

Your eyes snap open to opaque darkness as a silent scream escapes you. Pain. Excruciating and tormenting pain rips your head in two and paralyses the rest of your body. You want to call for help, desperate for relief but words fail you. It’s as if someone had lacerated your throat and ran away with your mangled vocal cords. Overwhelmed by the pressure in your head, you quickly surrender and fall into the mouth of the hungry blackness encompassing you. 

The next time you wake up, you were almost blissfully unaware of the agony you previously awoke to if you weren’t sorely reminded by the lingering compression in your ears, an, almost, unbearable pounding ache in your skull, and the paralysis of your limbs. Your shaky breaths sound amplified in your ringing ears as you slowly regain control of your desensitised appendages but the stabbing sensation against your skull persists. It doesn’t appear to want to dull out unlike most continuous pains. In a desperate effort to mute the throbbing, you curl up into the foetal position and focus on your breathing, your hands clutching at the temporal and parietal areas of your head. After a while, there’s some relief. Sweet relief.

The darkness remains as obscure and daunting as you had first awoken to, a dead, unfeeling space — like a black hole. But it can’t be that. It can’t be a black hole. You hope it isn’t, at least. There has to be a way out of here. 

With great effort and a groan of pain, you get onto your hands and knees, suffering through agonising aches as you feel about the space around you. All the objects you come into contact with are insignificant, too ordinary for your brain to comprehend and speculate over — though the unrelenting throbbing in your skull may be of probable cause to your lack of analysis — it came with one reassuring thought however, their existence was evidence enough that this wasn’t a black hole…

What poor thoughts. 

You’ve never been so vapid. The thoughts swirling in your head were so lacking in cognition and inference that you instinctually shook your head in disappointment. A black hole? Impossible! —Unless you were launched into space in between the meeting with your investors and your journey home. Were you drugged? Taken hostage? If you were then why weren’t your limbs tied up? Eventually, your trembling hands find a wall, a small success that you quickly take advantage of, tracing the perimeter of the boxy room, hoping to find a doorway or vent, anything that could lead you to freedom. You probably look pathetic crawling around but there weren’t any traces of light, even a locked box was more illuminated than this. 

Your rambling thoughts continue, a distraction from the throbbing in your skull, until you feel it. A break in the wall, the border to a door. You didn’t waste any time and ignored all pains to stand and feel out the space for the doorknob, leaning your weight against the wooden entrance to alleviate your weak limbs. Disoriented and brainless — were you terribly hungover or something? More speculations, more unanswered questions but finally a release to freedom! The door relented and gave way as you finally found its handle, pushing down with your weight and tumbling towards freedom. 

The light burned your eyes and made you tear up but the relief of liberty was soothing. The throbbing, stabbing pains in your skull were now replaced by a reeling dizziness and it throws you off balance. But your hand catches the wall to steady you while your other clutches at your head; your disorientation grows and grows. It feels like you were tied to the end of a string and spun around as the length of the string gradually increases, giving the sensation of your mushy brain being stretched out. What in the world have you done to be put through this amount of distress and trauma? 

Curling your fingers into your head, you try to distract from the sickening dizziness with grounding pain and search for repose but are given none. Just as your nails begin to claw at your scalp as your other hand gropes at unfamiliar, drab wallpaper, a voice calls out to you. It’s small and confused, full of light and youth — it’s a child’s voice. 

“Mother?…”

Turning to the hesitant call, you lock eyes with steel grey pools. It’s a little boy. Maybe eight to nine years of age. He has beautiful short black hair, pale skin and angular features but childishly soft cheeks. His formal-like dress and perfect posture makes him look like a little prince. You don’t answer him right away; too distracted with your curious surveillance so he calls to you again with furrowed brows and the same title on his tongue, ‘mother’. 

He was talking to you. Strange…

“Did you just call me ‘mother’?” you ask, he doesn’t answer and you try not to wince, still very light-headed and muddled, “Why?”

“Because you are my mother,” the stare he affixes you with makes it obvious that he thinks you’re a crazy person. No, but he’s the crazy one!

“Are you okay mother?” another, almost identical looking boy walks up and stands beside the first. He, too, has beautiful black hair and pale skin but with much softer features so he must be younger than the first. They wear a similar attire —another little prince. Two little princes, brothers, that view you as their mother. 

But that’s impossible…

The younger of the two has an air of politeness surrounding him as he watches you with empathy swimming in his grey pools. In clear objection to the compassion his younger brother was willing to give you, the eldest child subtly squints at your crumpled and distressed figure. 

“I don’t have children…” your weak voice states but fails to continue, bewildered but confident in the fact although it breaks your heart. It just slipped out and now the two boys were stiff and tense from head to toe. 

Quickly shaking off his rigid limbs, the older brother scowls at you, “as much as we don’t want to be your children, we are!” his tone his biting as he speaks with a snarl, his pristine white teeth bared for defence and attack. With stomping footfalls, the duo run away, fleeing your sight in a blur of blacks, whites and greys. As soon as they’re gone, your dizziness hits you once more, like a boulder to the head, and sends you collapsing into the ground. 

Again, your world goes pitch black. 

2nd August 1971

There’s no spiralling darkness when you next wake up, nor is there an abundance of lamplight to make your eyes tear up, instead, beautiful golden rays of sunlight fall through the tall glass windows behind you. It was a much easier radiance to adjust to. You’re tucked away in bed, silky, comfortable and perfectly warm. Perhaps yesterday was just a dream, a very vivid dream— no, a nightmare. You let out a groan and squeeze your eyes shut. No matter how long it’s been, your thoughts of failure and self hatred over your own incompetence still haunts you. Curling up under the covers, you go through the breathing exercise your therapist imbued into you. 

Acknowledge it, accept it, let it go…

The phrase repeats in your head several times. The longer you rehearse it, the more your limbs unfurl until you’re flat on your back once more. 

…rigid.

Now that you think about it, was your bed always this…stiff?

Blinking in confusion, your eyes focus on the ceiling and widen. You don’t have a chandelier in your bedroom. Your eyes quickly jump down and examine the bed you lay in. This wasn’t your bed, no. Where were your Hedwig and Niffler plushies? Your all-white sheets were gone and replaced by all-black covers. It was then that you finally comprehend the cool sensation laying against your forehead, jolting your body forward, you let out a yelp of surprise as the small soaked towel falls from your brow. 

Your shocked shriek is almost matched by the bawling that accompanies it, drawing your eyes to a being you’ve only seen in movies. The small house-elf stares at you with shaking, blood-shot eyes and unaltered terror folded into his wrinkly expression. Endless apologies fall from his mouth, sincere and all underpinned by intense anxiety. He’s so real; his small, skeletal-like chest rapidly moving up and down due to his desperate pants. His three-dimensional existence quickly falls and kneels before you to commence grovelling, his shaking hands held together in prayer.  

“...Kreacher…” you gape at the house-elf, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat. In disbelief over the elf’s actuality, you reach out for him, awestruck and so dazed that you almost miss how he flinches away from your approaching touch. Apologetic, you retreat your hand and adjust yourself to sit against the headboard before addressing him, “I-I wasn’t going to hit you…”

“Kreacher is needing to be hit, mistress,” the contrite house-elf voices, twiddling his thumbs as he remains knelt down. 

Mistress…?

“Please stand, Kreacher,” you neglect to perceive his surprise in your use of the word ‘please’ as you’re still in awe of him yourself. With a subtle shake of your head, you do your best to push away your astonishment in search of answers, “and fetch me a mirror,” 

Kreacher promptly clicks his fingers and a handheld mirror appears before you. You try not to awe at the demonstration of magic — it's a simple spell in this world — and proceed to take it in your hesitant hands. Judging from what you have been able to gather, Kreacher calling you mistress and the two young boys addressing you as mother…Walburga Black should be the reflection staring back at you. However, you don’t see a black-haired, cold-eyed, pale-skinned woman, with a constant frowning wrinkle on her brow, you see yourself. You touch your face just to make sure you weren’t mistaken. It is you. 

Was this just a vivid dream? It feels so real… 

Mirror set aside, you look back at Kreacher and are astonished once more at seeing just how alive he is. His mannerisms were completely authentic and he was solid from all sides. There’s no mistaking that he’s right in front of you, tangible and no longer fictional. 

What wonders the mind can achieve when you fangirl and nerd out enough over something… But why aren’t you in the Lightening era timeline? And why are you in Walburga’s shoes? Now you’re the mother of Sirius and Regulus Black… The questions don’t stop, nor do the conjectures. Maybe it’s your mind trying to get over your life’s trauma vicariously through your favourite series and fandom… the notionmade some sense. You, not only, have one son but two. Should you feel elated or anxious?

As your thoughts continue, the apologies falling from Kreacher’s lips slowly get louder and louder until you snap out of your spaced-out state. Guilt quickly gathers in your stomach at the realisation that Kreacher had been vocally repentant this whole time and you haven’t yet acknowledged him in the slightest. 

“What are you apologising for, Kreacher?” you finally ask, putting a stop to his penitent speech. 

“Kreacher did not realise mistress had the sickness; Kreacher did not serve her well,” his tone was incredibly apologetic and there was no mistaking the panic in his eyes. 

“...It’s alright Kreacher,” the reassurance in your voice was something the house-elf was not used to and you almost smile at the explicit amazement in his eyes, “I did not know that I was ill, myself, so thank you for taking care of me when I fainted,” your warm smile confuses the house-elf but you continue. Even though this is a dream, you were going to do things right, “it was you who took care of me, correct?” 

His astonishment doesn’t leave his eyes as he nods, slack-jawed and meek, “yes..it was Kreacher, mistress,”

You nod in approval and spot a plate of food in your periphery, set neatly atop the bedside table, “thank you, Kreacher. You are dismissed,” the bashful but, still, misery-stricken house-elf goes to say something, glancing over at the bedside table but you promptly cut him off, “I will eat the food you prepared shortly, thank you, again,”

With a simple nod, Kreacher disappears in a blink and you slowly bring the plate of breakfast onto your lap. Eating in bed, you digest your situation and take in your surroundings. This was all a very realistic dream but a dream nonetheless. And it was a chance for you to, not only do right by the characters you adore but make peace with your past and present. This was a second chance. Even if it was only a dream. 

Just as you finish up your plate of breakfast, you also conclude your examination of the supposed ‘master bedroom’ and frown. The disapproval is clear in your furrowed brows, narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Whoever designed this room needs to be demoted…or fired. 

The Blacks were such a wealthy family, surely they had more saved up to be able to hire a decent interior designer. The colours blended into each other and no furniture, wallpaper or trinket could bring you any emotion other than despair. With that disappointing thought and a grimace at the, overall, sombre decor of the room, you turn to place your clean plate back on the nightstand when a rolled up piece of paper catches your eye. Innocuously folded and tucked to the left of where your breakfast plate once laid was a newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Hurriedly exchanging your plate and utensils for the paper, your anticipation rose to witness the infamous articles and its moving pictures. You almost couldn’t stop the schoolgirl giggle from escaping your smiling lips. Never before had you been so excited to read the paper. 

Unfolding the pages, you awe at the front cover before quickly skimming the rest of the folio. It’s the real thing and it’s so detailed…even for a dream. 

It was written in clear script on the top, right hand side of the front page. 2nd August 1971. There was no doubt in your mind now that you were just about to enter the Marauders era timeline. If you weren’t mistaken, this was the summer leading up to Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts, which meant that, as his mother — the notion was still abnormal to you but also incredibly heartwarming —, you had a duty to help him fetch his school supplies for Hogwarts. You would also have the honour of seeing him receive his own wand before helping him buy his uniform robes and other necessities. You would even help him pack his bags for Hogwarts, congratulate and celebrate his achievements with him, wish him a good day, support him unconditionally… everything a loving and present mother would do. And, of course, you would treat Regulus the same way. It makes your heart sing and butterflies flutter about in your stomach; you get to be a mother. 

—one moment… 

If the date is correct in the newspaper and you’re right in that Sirius would be attending Hogwarts in a month’s time, then why did he appear one to two years younger than what an eleven-year-old should look like?

Pondering over the question makes you grimace. It’s entirely possible that it could be Walburga and Orion’s doing, Sirius definitely has a defiant manner about him despite only being eleven years of age and it wouldn’t be abnormal to expect the Black couple to be callous towards their own sons, enough to, somehow, stunt their growth. With a click of your tongue and a roll of your eyes, you eagerly move on from the topic and observe the front page more closely only for your breath to stutter and catch in your throat. 

A moving picture of the harrowing dark mark being cast over a house plays in a loop before you. Reading the associated article, you feel your stomach turn in on itself. It was such a disgusting display.

“How cruel…” Your disgust morphs into sorrow as you read over the killings made within the specific house. It belonged to innocent muggleborns and their family members, both magic folk dubbed as blood traitors and their muggle family were massacred. It was clearly an attack meant to bring fear and terror to muggle borns and the pureblooded witches and wizards that dare protect them - all in the name of the dark lord and his bigoted agenda. 

What a load of bullshit.

Not stopping for long, you read interview quotes from blood purists showing their support over the act. Their only reason was that they feared losing their pureblood traditions entirely to muggleborns. The horrific, terroristic happenings all appear to follow after the election of a muggle born Minister of Magic (Nobby Leach), the induction of Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and then the introduction of Voldemort last year. It’s deplorable that that’s all it takes for blood purists to excuse such radical operations —it’s inhumane. 

“‘The Ministry continues to spare no effort’,” you read under your breath but frown despite the reassuring words, “I bet those Deatheaters get a real ego boost from that statement…” if you remember correctly, Voldemort was enlisting more Deatheaters as well as magical creatures. However, those who are seen as ‘inferior’ were made to suffer, namely Goblins and House-elves. It doesn’t sit well with you. 

The fact that the fantasy world around you — one that you’re an avid fan of — feels so incredibly real, despite it being a dream, suddenly looks very bleak makes your chest tighten. And you quickly find yourself agonising over the lives of many children across the country, both in the muggle and wizarding world, being filled with unhappiness and gloom purely because of the selfish and bigoted adults that are supposed to protect them. 

You click your tongue bitterly. Only a terf could write or imply something so tragic in a supposed children’s book…

Just as you set down the newspaper and lean back against the headboard, Kreacher materialises at your bedside and begins to clear away your plate and paper. You shoot him a smile of thanks that he has a mixed reaction to. Before disappearing, he observes your state once more, dull eyes searching for something. When he returns a moment later, he’s carries with him a slim vial filled with a red, almost-pinkish liquid that contained ascending bubbles. Carbonated? It looked like a normal drink — like a brightly dyed, flavoured tea or sports drink. 

With eyes of fascination, you carefully take the potion vial from Kreacher. You were about to take your first ever magical potion and you plan on savouring every moment of it, even the moments leading up to drinking it. Slowly turning the vial in your hand, you realise that the consistency of the liquid isn’t as light as water; it was a little thicker.

“It’s a healing potion mistress,” Kreacher explains at your bedside, hunched over with his features scrunched up into a permanent scowl, “for the hot fever, mistress,” you give him a small, grateful smile for the explanation. It’s been a while since someone has been proactive when it came to caring for your wellbeing; it made you feel better knowing that Kreacher was around to take care of your needs, disregarding that it was an obligation he couldn’t escape from. Being a successful woman in commerce didn’t mean you were successful in all aspects of life. You still needed to be cared for. This was a welcomed compassion you were going to take full advantage of. 

“Thank you Kreacher,” you swiftly uncork the vial and down the potion like a shot, not expecting it to taste so revolting, “Ugh! That’s horrid!” you cough and feel tears surface. This was supposed to be your dream so why did you come up with something so foul-tasting?! You’ve never tasted anything so disgusting! You can’t even begin to describe the flavour —it’s too foul for words! 

Shaken up by your amplified reaction, Kreacher begins to shake but explains that it’s how all healing potions tasted, “there are other potions with the baddest tastes mistress,” you try to shake away the repulsive flavour but have no such luck and turn to Kreacher with a plea. 

“Water? Please?” with a snap of his fingers, a cool glass of fresh, crisp water appears and you immediately reach out to drink it. The repulsive taste on your tongue dilutes the more you drink but it doesn’t fully lift off your taste buds. Even after drinking the entire tall glass of water, the awful taste of the healing potion lingered — you couldn’t even feel relieved from the feverish headache that left you. 

The healing potion had worked its purpose and you were up and about 12 Grimmauld Place, taking in its dismal but elegant interior, opulent decor and its many rooms. You didn’t know what to expect. It was evident how wealthy the Black Family was in their expensive tastes but that didn’t necessarily translate into aesthetic arrangements. When you watched the movies, it was understandable how dilapidated it was but, despite currently being lived-in, it still looked dull. All rooms appeared the same and began to blend into one another the more you moved around. You still awed at the realistic display of the place, however; it all felt so real, as if your surroundings breathed with life and every ornament, wall and structure had its own individual heartbeat. Just the thought made your heart race. This was once a purely fictional setting and now, your dream brought it to life and you were fully encapsulated - happily so. 

One room that held your attention far better than all other rooms of the house combined was the home library. It was majestic, regal and old — a charming space that you were eager to explore. Its many shelves were lined with an assortment of books, many containing magical knowledge such as light magic and dark magic, which was surprising when considering the Black family’s preference for dark magic. What wasn’t surprising was the amount of books detailing traditional wizard and witch rituals, dates, holidays and more. Purebloods and their need for the maintenance of customs and ceremonies, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. You expected there to be more books on dark magic but most were on the history of the wizarding world and its many traditions, some of which you had never seen or heard mention of in the Harry Potter book series, movies or games. 

Your mind was very creative and you were quite proud of yourself for it. 

Time passes you as the pages of many books are skimmed by your eyes. You have no idea how much time ticks by as you consume book after book, flicking through pages before being interrupted by a rapid knock at the door succeeded by the entrance to the library being hurriedly pushed open. 

“Mother,” Regulus pants with softly flushed cheeks. His head of curls were a hint messier than the last time you met eyes with him, however, he was still dressed more formally than how a normal ten year old boy should be dressed. It was then, however, that you realised your greatest, influential role — a role that’s far more important than being the head of your company. You’re a mother now. A mother to two gorgeous and darling sons, who deserve all the love in the world. It made tears well up in your eyes. Your subconscious had realised your truest, purist desires and brought it to you in a dream through your beloved fictional characters, ”M-mother?” snapping out of your trance, you realise Regulus had been waiting for you to signal that it was okay for him to speak but hadn’t yet.

“Yes?” Your soft voice appears to catch him off-guard but he’s quick to recover and steel his features.

“I apologise for coming to you late, Mother,” he begins, remaining at the door with his shoulders straight and expression level despite the anxiety for his mistake clearly showing in his eyes. He’s still slightly panting but endeavours to explain himself quickly for your expediency. 

“It’s alright, darling, take your time,” you offer a kind smile that he doesn’t know how to respond to. And, instead of assuring him, you seem to have only made him more fearful. 

“I-I’m terribly sorry, Mother, it was entirely my mistake. It won’t happen again, I swear!” he pleads with tearful eyes and a quivering lip. His small voice raises in volume no matter how much he tries to control it and eventually has to stop talking altogether just so he could gather himself. 

“Regulus, you’ve done nothing wrong,” your words have such a profound effect on him that he stills, completely frozen in time from shock and confusion, “what were you going to say originally, darling?” ‘darling’… the endearment slips you so naturally and it doesn’t even bother you — this really was your heart’s truest desire. 

Regulus takes a few minutes to himself, trying to find his voice and swallowing to wet his gone-dry mouth in order to speak without his voice cracking, which would have an ill demonstration of the Black family’s standing, “I, once again, apologise for my lateness, mother. I did not realise you would be in the family library rather than your study today,” it’s clear he’s still quite flustered from his earlier frantic search for your wandering form as he was still faintly panting under his breath. You raise a gentle hand and, paired with your soft smile, you silently assure him to take his time once more. He appreciates the unusual consideration and leniency from his typically stringent mother, “as per usual, I am here to update you on the progress of my home studies. I’ve read through all the chapters you wanted me to read and had written notes appropriately, complete with summary paragraphs…”

You don’t speak as you observe the sweet boy before you, his shoulder pulled back and chin held squarely as if he was a soldier, a man of rigorous instruction rather than the innocent young boy he was supposed to be. As you stare with an unknown and unfamiliar look in your eyes, Regulus tenses up, slowly backing into the hallway once more. His mother is a woman of few words but would usually hum along in approval to his list of completed tasks — it was a trivial gesture of favour that he eagerly sought after, wanting nothing more than to seek your acceptance. Complete and utter silence could either be dangerous or harmless. The potential risk made the hairs on his arms raise. The poor boy didn’t know what to make of your bizarre mannerisms lately. His heart raced to new heights and his throat felt even more closed up than usual. 

Slowly, you walk up to him and kneel down, love and fondness clear in your gentle eyes. However, it was such a rare emotion for Regulus to see in his mother’s eyes that he tensed up more at the stare, no matter how affectionate and warm. 

It has to be a trap, somehow…   

Your gentle hand reaches up and cups his cherubic cheek, one of the few remaining demonstrations of his youth. Plumper, you need to fill in his cheeks, make them softer and more rounded; you’ll stop at nothing to get them to that state as soon as possible. With your thumb, you lovingly stroke his cheek and smile with all the love welling up in your chest. Your features are soft with the warmth and affection you wanted to convey beyond words. This is the first time Regulus has ever seen his mother look so kind. He’s never seen it before —it looks nice. His mother looks pretty now. He really hopes this isn’t a trap. 

Innate maternal love and instincts overwhelm you. And, after a moment, you take the plunge. You pull him into your arms and embrace his slim, short figure, pressing your face into his hair as you tuck his face into your shoulder. Finally, you have your own son, and you’re going to love him with all your heart. In your mind, you vow to all deities you would care for him like no other, even if in a dream. 

“A dream come true,” you say in a voice dripping with tears. Faintly, you hear Regulus ask for what you mean, muffled from how you have his face buried into your shoulder, “having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…” 

Regulus can’t believe his ears as a warmth spreads through his chest, rapid and, like a blossoming array of wild flowers, it’s accompanied with the purest happiness he’s ever felt in his short life so far. He doesn’t know what to say, speechless from your words, words that he’s never before heard from his mother. He’s wished so many times for such a scenario to come true that he can’t quite believe that it’s happening to him now. 

—BANG!

Sirius stands at the end of the hall, glaring ferociously at the scene happening before him, a bitter emotion consuming his small form at the words he hears and he promptly storms off. But you’re too quick with your lengthier strides and desire to reach him before he goes too far. Without a second thought, you hug the eldest brother to your chest too. You’ve pulled him as close to you as possibly could despite his protests and attempts at pushing you away. 

With a stern voice, you speak up against his thrashing form, “Sirius, do not get aggressive with me,”

“I don’t care!”

“You will care because you’ll end up hurting someone and or yourself one day, if you keep this up!”

Sirius is flooded by shock at your response and he freezes up. His mother never cared whether or not he or anyone else got hurt, so long as they succumbed to her ridiculous demands. He can’t recognise his own mother anymore. Taking full advantage of his paralysed state, your hold turns gentle and you begin to comb your fingers through his inky locks.

“Breathe...” you try to calm him down by gently petting the back of his hair down and occasionally running your nails along his scalp, “talk to me…what’s upset you?” looking up, you see Regulus a metre or two away with a curious look on his face, a mix of amazement, curiosity and caution. Sirius doesn’t respond so you gently prompt him, pulling away to meet his conflicted eyes, “darling?”

Sirius is stunned into silence and doesn’t know what to say, he’s in complete denial over what’s happening – this can’t be his mother, “did you hit your head or something?” he accuses in a snappy tone and you step back, a wave of realisation washing over you. Before this, Sirius and Regulus were pushed around by Walburga daily, abused and tortured in an attempt to conform to her ways. It breaks your heart but also fills you with determination. Even though this is just a dream, you will make the proper changes and treat them kindly. They deserve a loving mother, one who supports them and loves them unconditionally. As you part your lips to voice something, you feel an ominous presence enter the hallway. 

When you look up and over your shoulder, your eyes meet liquid mercury, swirling with anger and paired with the deepest frown. Orion Black approaches from behind you, his footsteps daunting and seeming to echo through the shaking walls of the hallway as he fixes Sirius with a cold glare. His own son, who’s only 11 years old.

“What is going on here?” Orion demands but completely ignores you when you try to explain. Your husband’s focus stubbornly remains on your son, the accusation and wrath in his eyes aggrandised. He continues to bark at Sirius, who looks at the floor in quiet shame and with bitten lips. You know he’s terrified but still tries to appear strong, knowing that if he cried out and showed weakness through pained anger in front of his parents, they would use it as ammunition to berate and abuse him further, “don’t you dare talk to your mother that way again, Sirius!”

Orion raises his wand to punish him but you hurriedly step in the way and tuck Sirius’ face into your stomach. Chin over your shoulder, you meet eyes with your husband andtry to keep from snarling at him lest your true intentions and change of heart come to light and raise red flags, “this is between me and Sirius, I will deal with his punishment myself,”

Sirius doesn’t know whether he should be fearful or relieved. That emotion is so foreign to him, especially when it comes to his mother and talks of punishment. Thankfully, Orion lets the situation go and nods curtly before walking back to his study with a huff, muttering about wasted time on his ‘useless son’ under his breath. 

“My punishment is to eat dinner in my room…” the brothers share a confused look, “usually, it’s to have no dinner and no breakfast…”

“Or worse…” Regulus’ words make them both shiver; a cold chill runs up their spines and inspires dark memories to surface. Un-welcomed, they shake their heads and banish the remembrance.  

Diverting the topic altogether, Sirius picks at his food, “what do you think happened to her?”

“Mother?” Regulus asks and receives a confirming nod, “I don’t know…Kreacher told me–” Sirius pulls a face at the friendship his brother has fostered with the elf, “that mother had a terrible fever yesterday and fainted after we saw her in the hallway,”

Sirius thinks for a moment and chews a little longer than usual, ruminating over the new information, “you think that’s what made her like that?”

Regulus shrugs his small shoulders, “that’s the only thing I could think of…” the youngest brother slowly begins to lose himself in thought, thinking back to when his mother embraced him tenderly and whispered such lovely, affirming words beside his ear. 

‘A dream come true… having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…’

“You like the change?” Sirius snaps his little brother out of his daydream and Regulus flushes in slight embarrassment, avoiding his older brother’s disapproving eyes. Or was that disappointment? Maybe something else?

“She’s much nicer now…”

“It won’t last forever,” Sirius says roughly, bitterness and disbelief evident in his voice as his brows furrow; he doesn’t want to believe that his mother, one of the two people responsible for hurting him and his little brother day in and day out, could have the capacity to change overnight, “you’ll see…”

Regulus doesn’t want to believe his brother but how could he deny such a pragmatic expectation? His older brother is right. It’s unrealistic for him to believe in such a miracle. Nevertheless, there was a troublesome ray of hope that warmed the depths of his chest and clenched around his beating heart with purpose. It was immature to be so optimistic but he can’t help hoping. 

And, he’d never admit it out loud but… Sirius was hopeful too.  

3rd August 1971

You’re astonished at how long this dream has stretched on for. You’ve been able to finish the previous day, fallen asleep beside your husband and rose the next day to have breakfast with your darling boys, served by Kreacher. And now, you’re happily immersing yourself in the home library once more. 

Amazed, you consume the contents of the book in your hand, you’ve never come across such information in the Harry Potter books, movies or games. It’s so novel! You feel bubbling excitement rise from deep within you, enchanted and equally awestruck from your imagination, even in sleep. You should be a fanfiction writer! 

“I can’t believe how detailed and long this dream is continuing on for…” you mutter to yourself, beginning to smile at your luck before you’re harshly interrupted.  

“This isn’t a dream you insufferable muggle!” a shrieking shrill scream echoes in your head and makes you wince. In a weak attempt at soothing the ache, you grasp at your temple with a hand. The throbbing discomfort the voice induces is equivalent to the same pain you experienced when you first woke up in that pitch black room, only, not as intense. The memory makes you wince even more and you wonder if the increase of pain was a type of phantom hurt brought on by your own thoughts.

“Wh-wha-?” you do your best to collect yourself but the wailing voice is unrelenting and perpetuates the pounding in your head. 

“To hell with that ritual! What. Happened?! This wasn’t supposed to be the result! Explain yourself, you filthy muggle woman! HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY PLACE!”

With staggering realisation, all the pieces click together in your head and you’re stunned into silence as the raging voice of the villainess woman continues to demand answers in your head. Her voice is piercing but is dulled out by your curiosity and rising triumph. 

“You’re saying this is real?...”

“Yes! You Filthy Muggle! Whatever you’ve done, reverse it now and allow me to return to my place!”

“...No,” your firm voice counters, a slow smirk gradually tugging at your lips. She goes silent, probably speechless at the audacity a ‘muggle’ has to disobey her demands, “I’m staying,” you threaten, “and I’m going to do right by your sons by giving them the life and mother they deserve—”

“You will do no such thing!” Walburga shouts once more in your head; this time, you don’t mind the throbbing pain it induces, “They are my sons and they—!”

“Not anymore bitch,” you grin deviously, “they’re my sons now,”  

NEXT. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) →

A/N : this is my attempt at a fix it fic inspired by one of my favourite genres in webtoons etc - reincarnation/isekai/time travel do-overs, wish me luck! i hope i do a good job! ALSO! I'd like to express a special thank you to my dearest friend @thebestofoneshots for being such a darling and taking time out of her day to beta-read this first chapter for me, she's been such a sweetheart and was the one who helped motivate me to finish the first chapter! i don't think i would have been able to post this first chapter without her. i love you so much my darling! please go and support her by reading her work, commenting and reblog her work too! she deserves all the love in the world! and she writes so beautifully too! you won't regret it!

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

SERIES TAGLIST OPEN

[diana-bluewolf]

YOU, PRECIOUS BEAN! Do you know how wonderful and amazing you are??? Very very much! You're a sweet person, have a nice sense of humour, your art is superb and Chris is a beautiful boy who just needs to open up a little and feel our collective love! I wish you a good week ahead and all the good vibes in the whole world! LOVE YOU!!!

Anon!!! 🥺 C'mere, I'm going to subject you to a hug. I love you, too! And the most awesome week to you, too! 

The actual image of Chris experiencing all your collective love lately↓

He feels it but doesn't know what to do with it yet. He's not used to it. But he is definitely not the Chris he was a year ago, thanks to you all. He has friends now! Can you imagine it?! Insanity! Thank you guys - you make us happy! 

Also, I'm sorry I'm not very active lately and don't always reply. I'll answer the asks eventually (thank you for them SO much!!!) I don't ignore you all; all my WIPs are temporarily frozen, too - I just need to get through November (and probably December) first 🙏 

[traumatizedbymay2016]

Ok this might be a little bit tinfoil hat, but I feel like a large part of the reason that Tony Stark ended up being the de facto soul of the MCU was that he was in a different genre to everyone else. It feels so obvious to me.

Every other Avenger stars in some variation on character versus character conflict the majority of the time, and the exceptions I can think of are still (generally) external (character versus society and character versus fate seem to be common secondary conflicts). Tony is the only character who stars predominantly in character versus self conflicts.

For starters, the Iron Man trilogy is way better when you recognize this distinction. Whiplash and Killian are lame villains, yes, but it's because they aren't the antagonist at all. At best they're secondary conflicts, but at worst they're straight up just the inciting incident. The real antagonist of the story is the flaw that Tony is grappling with --- in Iron Man, it's his willful ignorance and isolation from the world; in Iron Man 2, it's his fear of needing help or being a burden (and secondarily his fear of his impending death); and in Iron Man 3 it's his crippling anxiety that nothing he ever does will be enough to protect the ones he loves. It's relatively rare that we see any other character perform this kind of introspection at all, let alone see an entire story built around it (Thor: Ragnarok is the only one that readily comes to mind).

Even weirder to me is that this somehow persists into crossover films. Age of Ultron features Tony grappling with the way the remnants of his Iron Man 3 anxieties are interfacing with his mask of hyper competence; Civil War centers around Tony deconstructing that same mask and attempting to hand the reins over to someone else; the examples are abundant (even if they're handled worse here than in the standalone films).

And I think that's why so much of the Marvel discourse that the interwebs seem hell bent on showing me ends up presenting every Marvel character as "uwu soft precious pure bean" heroes who are nuance-free portrayals of goodness and light in spite of their own laundry lists of mistakes that they move past but never really grow from, only to reach Tony Stark and present even the most understandable of mistakes as though they were pre-meditated and cold blooded decisions for which he is responsible and can never be absolved. If the narrative never forces anyone else to properly reconcile their actions, then those actions were clearly justified; when it does so to Tony, that sends the message that his actions are clearly worse or of greater significance than the others' are.

But that difference is about presentation. It's about the story being told and the conflict being centered, not the culpability or severity of the actions at play. I'm not sure any Avenger has ever screwed up as royally as the time that Thor's coronation got crashed and he decided to get his friends together to attempt frost giant genocide, but the narrative chooses not to focus on that in favor of other elements of Thor's progression. Weighing it as lesser is purely based on bias.

And here's the thing! I understand that 1) protagonists are not necessarily good people and 2) good people can and do make mistakes. I actually prefer characters who can do something terrible --- whether as a result of ignorance, trauma, or panic --- and then, in time, learn from those mistakes and become better people. I would argue that makes a character more compelling, not less so. In fact, the very way that the narrative never even acknowledges the potential for Steve Rogers' actions to have a negative consequence when even bare minimum common sense would dictate that there must be at least a little downside is part of why I don't enjoy the character.

But so much fan meta fails to engage with this in any meaningful way, and so you end up with situations where people are ranting about Tony blasting Sam after Rhodey got knocked out of the sky while entirely ignoring the obvious and understandable distress that would cloud anyone's judgement in that situation in favor of treating it like an intentional act of malice on Tony's part; in spite of the fact that there are dozens of instances in the MCU of heroes attacking each other with greater force in lower stakes situations --- Thor choking Tony in Age of Ultron comes to mind.

Age of Ultron is actually the perfect case study in this phenomenon, as it stands. Tony's arc in the movie is an explicit continuation of his arc in Iron Man 3: He's terrified by the vision of his teammates dead and the world at risk, and is desperately trying to solve that problem on his own in a panic. This leads to the objective mistake of Ultron's birth and near rise to power, which the fandom all-too-happily places the blame for squarely on Tony's shoulders.

Except Tony is just one piece of the puzzle. At a minimum, Bruce Banner was equally involved in the creation of Ultron; a task perfectly in line with his established character trait of pursuing scientific advancement at any cost. Cinematic parallels between the birth of Ultron and the birth of the Hulk are unsubtle, to say the least.

Thor could (and should) have provided some instruction to the two pertaining to the literal magic gemstone they were studying, but went off to go celebrate another victory. Wanda used her mind control powers to influence the situation in the direction of Ultron. Hell, I find it hard to take Steve's "sometimes my team mates don't tell me things" line seriously when the lab is a room made entirely of windows inside his house.

The cherry on top, obviously, being that even if we ignore all available subtext and let Iron Man be the sole creator of Ultron, the Avengers were still effectively functioning as a team and were properly equipped to prevent Ultron from enacting any real damage to the world when they intervened in the vibranium deal with Klaue --- but a certain pair of Avengers were literally fighting on Ultron's team at that point, enabling him to retrieve the needed vibranium and capture Helen Cho.

They're not culpable for that, though, right? How was it said... "She's just a kid"?

With the final irony being that the selfsame Avenger in question would go on to marry the Vision. A character who is literally just "What Tony Stark intended Ultron to be." But when it comes to Vision coming out worthy to wield Mjolnir, that's not Tony's fault, is it? It was a team effort, or a happy accident, or the Mind stone intervening. Never mind that it's personifying J.A.R.V.I.S., Tony's creation. Tony's not the one who does good things, he's the one who makes mistakes.

Meanwhile from the perspective of someone who loves the man versus self narrative, Age of Ultron is about Tony admitting his mistakes and quite literally learning from them and doing better next time. He spends the film taking responsibility for the places he messed up and working to understand how he can do better, and the next time he tries, he does do better. The narrative functions as intended.

But because there isn't a single other character in the room willing to admit wrongdoing --- or, perhaps more accurately, there isn't a single other character in the room that the narrative is willing to force to admit such a thing --- the implication to someone who isn't acclimated to the cycle of Fail, Learn, Succeed that characterizes Tony is just that Tony is The One Who Made Ultron. I mean, Bruce Banner gets more remorseful about being mind controlled to unleash the Hulk than he does about having been an active participant in the creation of a malevolent AI.

I just think it's interesting because so much of the fandom buys into the idea that the characters who never admit that they were wrong actually never were wrong, and that therefore Tony Stark is the worst; but at the same time, the whole heart is gone from the MCU as a franchise. There are still individual fun properties, especially when your particular favorite character is on screen, but you can feel in the places where the fandom is even still a fandom and not a toxic pile of self-consuming sludge that there's something missing.

As frustrated as I am that the fandom is like this, though, I'm more sad that other characters never got to have this kind of introspection. There's just so much missed potential for growth in so many of these characters.

[ketchupchipsaregross]

Hi 🩷

19, 31, 64 pls!

Howdy 🤠

oh boy did i start yapping

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

definitely agatha christie and other mystery authors. i think between the ages of 11 and 17 it was the only thing i read. and it basically made it so i used murder as a subplot. dodors was the first multichapter fic/work i’ve written where i didn’t kill anybody off, pretty proud of myself for that.

a big influence on how i write settings and visual things is The Book Thief by markus zusak. i read it when i was 14 for school and his descriptions of everything were so vivid, and the comparisons were both mundane and brillant that it fundamentally changed how i view the world. it’s the only book i’ve read so many times the cover is falling apart

and of course, i have to shout out ivy and bean for teaching me to write the most chaotic ass duos ever. i read that series as a kid and man does it fucking slap.

31. tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

i mean, how can i say anything but dodors ellie? she’s so fun, and precious, and just an absolute delight to write. she’s based off a real life kid i babysit, baby blues comics (that’s where i got the snails go crunch from), and stories from when my brother and i were little. writing her feels a lot like a nostalgia. plus she usually just possesses me and does whatever the fuck she wants

64. what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read?

this is such a good question!

ellie of green gables by @bumblepony cause it makes EGG which i think is hilarious and bumble kindly tolerates

didactic by @penandinkprincess which is a real term used in education, and a method of teaching i already don’t like without everything from the fic ontop

kiss from the lips of monsters by @two-birds-alone-together cause it’s so fucking scary

queer clicker: a pride month crack fic by @adhdprincess it’s so descriptive! you know exactly what you’re getting! and it’s the lesbian clicker!

the transit of venus by @marchflower cause come on, that roman mythology reference is too good to ignore (and also whatever the title of foster baby au is gonna be cause i’m so excited)

[the-painted-siren]

One Master's Trash, Another Master's Treasure

Summary: 3k rambling about the value of certain things among different people. For Lloyd, life is precious. For Elias, it's the opposite. Hey, hey, holy smokes! It's a gift for @butterpony100 and their oc Elias - Master of Carbon! I hope I got them in character for you, friend. I don't know if Lloyd and Eli ever become enemies at any point in your development for them but I thought I'd try to write some character introspection on them to the best of my ability.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, it’s prevalent.

“The Death Flute is an artifact of the utmost danger…” the passage in Eli’s book reads out.

Rotted, brown leaves gather around their heels as they make their way down one of the quieter streets of Ninjago City. It’s peaceful—or, as peaceful as Ninjago City can be. Less distracting, perhaps, as the houses and shops settle close to each other on the narrow paved way, adorned with strings of flowers and fairy lights. 

“Crafted by the infamous Witch Morta, its song can call upon the warriors of the Underworld in exchange for a hefty price.” 

Eli can’t help the smile pulling at their lips as they study those carefully constructed words again and again. 

Over the years, they’ve been met with disappointment, false alarms, and fraudulent rumors. They’ve gone through every possible method of finding their means to an end and the world has foiled them time and time again. A life lived as long as the one they have has left them between a rock and a place of resentment for their existence.

Whether or not Morta’s Death Flute has what it takes to end that existence… Well, as unsettling as it is to hear, an odd sort of faith falls into Eli’s chest with this one, they know they’ll have to see it through. 

And perhaps, set it aside until later. Until after they’ve bought a cup of coffee. 

They snap their book shut, their smile turning into a grin as they continue with a nearly unnoticeable skip in their step. 

Few things in this soul-sucking hell world bring Eli joy. But a good book? A rich cup of coffee? They never fail to make an average day much better. And Eli more than plans on making this day better. 

They soon round the corner toward their favorite coffee shop—a quaint, little place helmed by a shopkeeper wrinkled like a raisin, dusky and dim and hushed on a slow afternoon. Eli can feel themself relax as they take everything in. The thick, bitter, and sweet scents, the clinking of spoons and mugs, and the sight of the Green Ninja sitting at the center table. 

‘Oh, sh-’ 

Nope. 

Eli hurriedly darts into the store, quick to hide behind a stacked display of coffee beans. Their heart rises into their throat, pounding away with the strength of a mallet taken to a living room wall. Though it takes a moment, Eli grits their teeth and forces themself to inhale a deep breath. They’re not afraid—not even close. But if the Green Ninja sees them here, then they’re in for a destructive tangle.

Such a thought causes irritation to stab through them. If Lloyd Garmadon destroys Eli’s favorite coffee shop, there will be hell to pay. That thought follows them, even as they peer over at their enemy. 

Lloyd lightly converses with a dark-haired stranger—a date, most likely—who speaks in low, soft tones. They seem enamored with each other, so much that they ignore their respective drinks in favor of their company. Lloyd himself slouches forward onto the table, a goofy grin opening out across his practically sparkling face. 

Only one thought comes forward within Eli’s mind as they process the sight. 

Ew. 

Somewhere in the shallow waters of their common sense, they know they should leave. They accomplish nothing by being here. They risk the integrity of their favorite coffee shop. And they can’t stand Lloyd’s stupid, lovey-dovey expression or enamored sighs of adoration as he lets his date regale him with a story from his mundane life. 

… 

…but how can they miss out on getting a piece of the Green Ninja’s private life? How often did this happen? Paparazzi would be losing their minds right now. 

Eli casually and quietly moves toward the counter to order—much to the very annoyed-looking barista’s chagrin. All of their movements come in unceremonious, practiced fashion. Their request for their usual coffee rolls off their tongue. They fit right in, hidden in plain sight while eavesdropping. 

“I don’t understand how you can drink that stuff,” Lloyd remarks, pointing to a glass holding a creamy liquid. 

“It’s coffee, Lloyd, it tastes good,” his date says. 

“It tastes like gutter water.”

“It does not.” 

Eli shoves down the urge to chuckle. A sense of fondness for Lloyd’s date rises in its place. If nothing else, he seems to have good taste. 

‘And good humor,’ Eli thinks, watching Lloyd as swats at the dark-haired boy for his comment about green tea just being “hot leaf juice.”

“No. No! Shush, stop,” Lloyd yells between peels of laughter. “Shut up, you’re wrong!” 

If only Eli believed in deities. If only they had their camera on them. The pictures they would take to tease Lloyd with. Alas, it seems Eli would have to be content with a bit of verbal ribbing during their next scuffle—assuming the barista doesn’t make that as soon as in the next minute. 

“Drink for Eli!”

Eli schools themself into a relaxed figure as they take their drink off the counter. But by then it’s too late—they’ve already caught Lloyd’s eye. Lloyd visibly tenses. His gaze zeroes in on Eli with laser focus. His hand shoots out to grab a plastic knife lying on the table and unlucky Eli has a sliver of enough time to think one sarcastic thing.

‘Oh, no, a plastic utensil. What are you going to do with that? Stab me?’

It is only by the grace of Lloyd’s companion that Eli finds themself saved. The dark-haired stranger slides to his feet just as Lloyd does and places his hands on Lloyd’s shoulders.

“Whoa, hang on. Where are you going?”

“Will you excuse me for just one moment?”

The dark-haired stranger moves with all the tenderness and grace in the world, gently cupping Lloyd’s cheek and turning his head so that they have to look at each other.

“Is this a ninja thing again?”

“Don’t try to stop me.”

“Call your friends-“

“Get out of my way.”

“Lloyd, you promised me.” 

Lloyd’s gaze slips over to Eli—who smiles smugly behind their coffee. The fury burning in his eyes dwindles as he looks back to the stranger—to his gaze, to his touch, to his pleading. Lloyd sucks in what looks like a shaky breath. His chest and body almost wobble while he shifts, as if unsure whether he should plant himself back in the chair or leap over the table and tackle Eli to the ground. 

After a second, Lloyd speaks, his expression melting into a watery-eyed defeat. 

“I can’t just leave it-“ 

“Then call your friends,” the stranger says. “Call them to take care of the problem. You promised me you wouldn’t rush off again.” 

And just like that, all the fun drains from the area. Eli figures they should take their leave now, having decided that Lloyd’s torment is now a little more personal than what they care to involve themself in. Besides, they got their desired cup of coffee—no point in staying any longer, not with a conflict on the rise. 

On the way out the door, Eli spies Lloyd’s date pulling him into a hug. They pause to consider their options, biting the inside of their cheek. Should they…? 

They take note of the way Lloyd bristles with all the dignity of a drowned house cat, trapped in his companion’s embrace. Frankly, it appears as if it’s the only thing keeping him from acting with all the finesse of one too. His attention slides over to Eli, who decides that yes, they absolutely should do this. 

With a simple open and close motion of their hand, Eli waves goodbye, smiling as they back out into the cool autumn air. 

Lloyd’s eyes light back on fire. He snaps the plastic knife in half. 

_________

For all the bragging and boasting surrounding the top-secret, high-security barriers that protect the Death Flute, retrieving it turns out to be relatively easy. Then again, Eli supposes that their powers make even the most inconceivable of feats easy, such as slipping past trained guards and Cyrus-Borg-on-a-tech-kick levels of puzzle locks. As always, the man’s creativity provides a shred of entertainment. 

And, as always, there are setbacks.  

The Earth Ninja and Ice Ninja dart through the trees, quicker than Eli’s eyes can reasonably trace. They’ve managed to escape the vault and tear their way through the forest that hides it—all while the ninja track them down at Lloyd’s beck and call. Part of them wants to be thankful that the lightning ninja hasn’t joined up with them…

But it’s drowned out by the focus required to avoid all of Zane’s ice spears. On its own, ice barely yields a threat. But out of all the other ninja, the speed with which he summons his element tends to give Eli the most trouble, second only to lightning. 

The worst part of it all is that Zane is fully aware of his power. He illustrates as much when he lands an infuriating blow against Eli’s shoulder. Pain rockets through Eli’s arm with the guttering force of a firework. It explodes out across the back of his hand, forcing them to release their grasp on their book so that it falls into the mud beneath their feet. The ache of frustration pulses against their temple as they stumble back. 

‘He’ll pay for that-’  Eli thinks, as blood roars in their ears. 

That book is a high-value asset of Eli’s collection—intricately patterned stab binding, Metalonian paper, and a painted, marbled fore-edge that has lasted almost half of Eli’s lifespan. A book of such quality… they’re not easy to come by. Such a sleight is unforgivable and it seems only fair that Eli takes something of equal value from Zane. 

“I’d apologize for how this is going to hurt,” Eli grinds out. They feel their powers rise like a deep breath, circulating through their body as they fixate on Zane’s internal functions. “But I don’t think I would mean it if I did.” 

Almost effortlessly, Eli disconnects some of the less important wiring in Zane’s body. Not enough to severely damage him but enough to make him double over in pain. 

A shredded gasp escapes from Zane’s throat as he crumbles, gripping his side. 

“Zane!” Cole dashes over to kneel near him, quickly looking him over for the injury. 

Eli doesn’t see much more than that as they take their leave, gritting their teeth at the thought of their lost book. 

_________

The numb buzz of victory crawls through Eli’s veins even long after they complete their mission. Morta’s power thrums within their veins, deep and dark and dangerous in a way they hope they can rely on. It’s one of many options for them—in the long run, it might not even mean anything. It can always be just another false lead. But what is Eli’s life for if not trying everything they can? 

Cautiously, Eli fishes the flute from their pockets. As if sensing the power it holds, a breeze whispers through the forest and seems to make the trees lean away. A blanket of clouds creeps over the edges of the sky, accompanied by a thundering roar that Eli would have mistaken for a storm had it not fallen into the voice of the Green Ninja.

“ELIAS!” 

Lloyd appears amongst the coverts of trees and foliage as if cut from marble stone. He wears a face of justified rage as Eli has ever seen. The wind and the forest whip to life as if manipulated by the outpouring of his rage alone—his power burns and shimmers in his hands, blazing alight like a wildfire. 

“Drop the flute!” Lloyd continues. He begins a slow, steady march toward Eli, braced for the inevitable. 

A startled chuckle bubbles out of Eli’s chest. “I’m surprised you found me so fast, Green Ninja. I suppose I shouldn’t be, though. You have a knack for tracking down things that disagree with the nature of your element.” 

Lloyd either doesn’t hear Eli over the whine of his powers or pretends not to. He comes to a stop a mere few steps from Eli—who grips the flute with white knuckles—and holds his hand out. 

“Give me the flute, Elias,” Lloyd says. “It’s not worth your life.” 

Eli takes one look at the golden-green flame flickering in Lloyd’s hand and shoves down the urge to laugh. “It’s worth more than you think.” 

Lloyd’s face contorts into a scowl. He grits his teeth. The flame in his hand burns brighter. 

“I’m not going to be polite a second time,” Lloyd says. “Give me the flute now. It’s not meant for hands like yours or mine.” 

“Only you would think that, Lloyd.” Eli takes a step back as Lloyd takes a step forward. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Can’t say the same for myself.” 

An unmistakable flash of despair goes out across Lloyd’s features, disappearing as quickly as it appears. “Listen, I know how you feel-”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Eli says. “But let’s be honest, you’re not always the best judge of character. Or choices.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lloyd asks. His brows furrow downward into a glower. 

“I think you know. But just in case you don’t, allow me to guess how happy your boyfriend is that you’ve run out on him.” 

Lloyd flinches like he’s been speared through by Eli’s words. A wave of emotions passes over him in rapid succession before outwardly landing on unbridled fury. Lloyd charges forward in a blur and slams Eli back into a tree. 

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT HIM!”  Lloyd roars. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM!” 

Crushed between Lloyd’s grip and the rough bark digging into their back, Eli manages to suck in a breath. They smirk and open their mouth to choke out something else to get on Lloyd’s nerves but fall short when their voice refuses their call. For one horrible second, Eli wonders if Lloyd’s hands have found their throat. They discover much worse. 

“Let go,” Eli wheezes. 

Lloyd’s eyes and hold on the flute turn to steel. “You first.”

A white-hot, wriggling panic makes its way into Eli’s stomach. It floods through their chest, shoulders, and brain, nearly drowning out all coherent thought. Think, think, think! They have to think. Eli grasps their powers and forces the ground beneath Lloyd’s feet to crumble. Lloyd braces himself against the sudden motion, careening backward as he takes the flute and Eli with him. What ensues is a most graceful scuffle. 

Eli and Lloyd scrabble for purchase against the ground, practically going around in circles while locked in a tumultuous game of tug-of-war for the instrument of death. Neither of them gives an inch, and neither of them breaks contact. 

And then Lloyd does something truly childish. 

In one swift movement, he falls back onto the forest floor, pulls down every ounce of weight he can, and uses the abrupt momentum to kick Eli off of him and into a forward-flying somersault. Eli, for their part, grapples to land on their feet and fails—instead crashing fully onto their side with a dull thud. Pain crackles across their ribs. Gravel seems to scrape against their throat as they try to speak. 

“You… juvenile…” 

“Save your breath, Eli.” Lloyd slides to his feet, unhindered by the fight. He twirls the Death Flute around in his hands. “You’re going to need it for something other than playing first chair.” 

A pained chuckle from Eli slices into the open air. “Alright, you’re funny. I’ll give you that. Thankfully, you’re not as smart or I would be in trouble.”

Lloyd manages to cock an eyebrow in response before the ground opens up and swallows his leg. He cries out in shock, bracing himself as best he can, even when the dirt and pebbles rip at the arms and knees of his clothes. 

Eli feels their powers breathe through them and the rocky sediment of the forest. They rise to their feet, taking slow, steady strides to reach where they’ve trapped Lloyd. 

“Stay back!” Lloyd holds out a hand as if it’ll do everything to keep Eli away. “Or I’ll-” 

“Or you’ll what?” Eli asks. 

Lloyd jerks the Death Flute up to his lips. It’s an unspoken threat—written in the way he stares Eli down, fingers trembling around the instrument’s body. A volley of laughter, tired yet uncontrolled, rolls through Eli’s shoulders at the sight. 

“Go ahead, do it,” Eli says. “I don’t fear its power.” 

Time ticks by in silence, save for the flowing of the breeze and the crinkling of the leaves. Lloyd keeps his eyes trained on Eli, his muscles pulled tautly, every fiber of his being purposeful and fixed. Eli allows themself to smile, even as they observe every one of Lloyd’s movements—down to the steady rise and fall of his chest. Finally, Lloyd takes a deep breath and puts the flute into playing position.

All of time slows to a stop—even the sky and the woods die into silence as Lloyd prepares to breathe the first note…

…and then Cole’s voice booms into the air. 

“STOP!”

A blurry object comes flying out of the forest and careens straight into the side of Lloyd’s head. Two things fall to the ground in tandem—Morta’s Death Flute and the book Eli immediately recognizes as the one they’d lost earlier. They gather their powers and bring both objects into their hands. 

Cole and Zane rocket into the clearing like twin streaks of light. Cole stomps to open up the ground, immediately setting Lloyd free, while Zane forms an icy barrier around all of them. 

Lloyd hisses out an inaudible thanks between grit teeth, holding what must be a bruised and scraped arm. He hasn’t lost his usual stoicism, with his chin held high and shoulders kept straight. That is, until he sees the flute in Eli’s hand. He shakes his head, eyes blown wide with fear. 

No. 

“Eli, don’t-”

But Eli has long since made up their mind. They raise the flute to their lips and play the first note. 

An unholy scream rips out of the Death Flute. A sharp, howling pain rends Eli’s chest. Their vision spins like a skipping record, the occasional white sparks flashing over it. And from the ground, the hands of the skeletons of the Underworld break through, leading the rest of their bodies to freedom. The sound of bones rattling and hoarse cackling reaches Eli’s ears as they look up.

They curse.

They’re still alive. Morta’s Death Flute has failed them. 

Lloyd curses, even as he directs the other ninja into battle positions. Outnumbered ten to one, the ninja still come across as impressively menacing—battle-hardened bodies and calloused  fists called to protect. Eli suspects they’ll get out of this with no problem. Still, they figure they shouldn’t make themself the final target, especially to Lloyd’s wrath. 

“Isn’t this a predicament?” Eli’s voice sounds raspy and winded as they draw it from out of their lungs. “Though, it is a shame, I really must take my leave.” 

“Eli!” Lloyd snaps. “Don’t you dare leave! Fix this mess.” 

He hastily kicks a skeleton’s head clean off its shoulders. He turns to make a mad dash for Eli, only to be stopped short by another skeleton nearly yanking his arm out of his socket. Lloyd growls and begins to wail against the poor creature’s ribs. By the time he’s finished, Eli has vanished. 

That’s something Eli holds up above him to some degree. 

They know the forest well. They know how to enter and exit without leaving a trace, how to disappear from someone’s sight in utter silence. That’s exactly what they do for the ninja. They march along one of the many unmarked paths as quickly as their lingering pain will allow them until the city becomes visible once more.  

As they go, they flip through the pages of their book, closely examining the damage. While mud stains the occasional passage and the strings fray in a few places, they soon realize that it may not be irreparable—a little extra-fine cleaning should fix most of it. 

A warm sort of relief flowers up in Eli’s chest, even in spite of their failure. 

‘Well,’ Eli thinks as they jog out onto the sidewalk. They may not have gotten what they wanted from this whole mess but at least they’ve escaped with something of value. 

[supimjustwriting]

Hopelessly in Love

Yandere Scaramouche x Reader

Summary: Y/N was a simple civilian. Another face in the crowd. Yet something about them just clicked with him. Their charming smile, kind eyes, the hope they have for the world.  Everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, right? 

Oh how wrong you were….

Warning: General Yandere Themes, implied kidnapping, OOC Scara (?)

“Hopeless? crooked laughter escaped the figure. “Sweetheart. Pigeon. Dove.” His tone grew darker with each endearing pet name. “Don’t you see you’re the one caged here?”

Little things add up. They always do. Flashing a smile at a stranger, offering a helping hand, insisting to help despite being rejected. Everything would’ve been fine if you ignored that feeling of guilt in your gut. He’s a fatui harbinger. He doesn’t even need your help. Why take the risk? 

Yet he looked so helpless. Borderlining pathetic when your eyes landed upon his bruised body in one of the many alleyways of Liyue. Little did you know that you would soon match with the ‘helpless’ victim.

~

Like clockwork, every Monday morning a gift nested itself at your door. Always from an ‘anonymous’ sender. Though the burning feeling in your chest is enough to warn, tell you who the gifter was. 

Today an intricate floral barrette nested upon your welcome mat, being cradled in a lavender box, lined with royal purple silk. The delicate hair piece was adorned with what you guess was glass cherry blossoms. Similar to the flowering branches you’d see in Inazuma travel guides. Only to be attached to a note that simply read; To: My Delicate Flower.

Admiration, gratitude, acknowledgement. Those were the innocent reasons you gave yourself. He simply didn’t know how to properly express his feelings to you. It couldn’t be love. Even if it was. It should fade away quickly. After all, he most likely fell in love with your actions. Not you, right? Continuing to feed yourself these lies. You scurry back into your home, ignoring the growing static in the air.

~

It ate away at him daily. At first he denied it. There’s no universe in which he would fall for such a weakling. Let alone someone who looked down upon him with such naivete. Yet those doe like eyes drew him in, maybe opposites attract after all.

“Sir?” “Did I give you permission to speak? Can’t you see I was busy?” Each word seemed to gather the lingering static in the air, slowly gathering upon his fingertips. Before he could strike, a simple string of words stopped his rage causing it to go static. “She’s caught Childe’s attention.”

~

“One red bean bun to go please ~! Chimed a playful voice announcing their arrival, stealing the welcome bell’s job. “I think we harmonized that time. What do you think?”

Rolling your eyes, you ceremoniously stuff the sweet treat into his mouth. While taking his mora with your free hand.

“Keep the change, sweet. Think of it as a gift from me to you. After all, having me around must scare off the more skittish of patrons,” the silver tongue male reasoned, grinning from ear to ear as you sheepishly smiled back.

“You and I both know how that’ll affect the business if others catch wind. As you said before ‘the walls have ears’. So, be a good child and keep the change,” you chirped, slipping the excess coins into his pocket.

“All work and no play makes for a boring life. I’d hate for you to resemble a certain coworker of mine.”

As if summoned by the Archons themselves a familiar navy haired male entered the quaint bakery. The usual scowl that painted his lips softened upon seeing his sakura blossom. Only to sour once more at the living headache. With the soft sound of geta blanketing the once warm atmosphere. A small storm loomed above.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N, I’ve told you of Scaramouche, right? Oh yes ~!” A lump made home in your throat as you caught the glint in your ‘friend’s’ eye. “This little lady actually saved our dear Scara. Didn’t ya, Y/N? Truly a being too pure for this world,” he mocked softly, wiping a fake tear.

“Indeed. It’d be quite a shame if something were to happen to them.” Scaramouche stated simply, fighting back his grimace at Childe’s obvious bait. 

Any patrons who dared stayed despite the single fatui member, now since fled with the newcomers aura.

“Azuki beans..”

“That’s their native name. It’s quite troublesome to get exports from Inazuma but it’s worth it in the end! I wouldn’t be able to make half of my selection otherwise,” wearing your best customer service smile, you spill out your sales pitch.

Did Scaramouche smile? Not going unnoticed by the younger harbinger, Childe’s Cheshire grin was quickly stopped with a tug of his ear. 

“My apologies for the sudden intrusion but I was simply here to pick up the walking menace. Though I’ll be sure to make time to visit. It’d be a shame if I never got to try any of your baking after all,” with a boyish chuckle, he and Childe left your safe haven.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Just visiting an old friend. Why does my dear superior care so much? The mighty Scaramouche didn’t fall in love, did he?” The navy haired male scoffed at the thought, his cheeks ghosting a shade of pink. “As if. They’re nothing but a distraction. If anything someone should teach them their place,” Scaramouche clicked his tongue with eyes glued forward. Though Childe’s amused grin just fueled his growing agitation.

~

That’s why you were in the position you are now.

Silky ribbon bit and dug into your precious skin. Decorating your canvas with shades of purple, blue, and grey. Each movement voluntary or not simply helped tie the scene together with your captor playing the part of the centrepiece.

“You’re nothing but a hopeless cause. No one will love you if you’re like this,” choked sobs escape your lips, body flinching as Scaramouche cradled your chin within his palm.

“Hopeless?” Crooked laughter escaped the short male. “You think I’m hopeless? Sweetheart. Pigeon. Dove. Don’t you see that you’re the one caged here?” Pulling you into a suffocating kiss, he gingerly wiped your tears with his thumb. “You saved me that day. I’m simply returning the favour. Chin up princess. I’m sure you’ll be happier with me.”

[lilxxbrainrot]

Rules: pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Tagged by @kylermalloy thank yooou!

Sooo let´s see what we got

A Glimpse of Him

This person, sitting across the table, is not the Edward who one day achieved to do the impossible; who one day managed to go to that far away universe he used to talk about, he used to call home. The Edward who flew on the plane Alfons built, through a portal, and never came back.

Gas-what?

"Do you really think that was my intention?" the black-haired man asked as he broke the embrace so he could be able to see the Elric in the eyes. "You know this is just the way I am, Edward. It's not that I'm trying to belittle you; this is just who I am. You knew it before this started, but you still liked me, right?" His tone was soft, fragile even, as if he were afraid of his lover's response.

Scars

Of course he loved the feeling of his flat chest, he loved the feeling, or thereof, the lack of feeling, the lack of weight on that zone. It was just- the scar, somehow bothered him a bit. He wished it wasn't there.

Thanks

And Ed moved to give Al a kiss on his forehead.

Instead, they kissed each other's lips. It was just- just a little kiss, a quick peck. An accident.

Both boys' eyes went wide as they scrambled back, their faces going ten different shades of red, at least.

Sundays

He just left his ass slip down, until he was no longer sitting on the sofa's armrest, but on his brother's lap. Ed immediately looked at him, a bit taken aback. Bingo.

Al accommodates as best as he can, leaving soft, gentle kisses over the skin on Ed's neck. "Brother, you've been ignoring me today," he whispers between kisses. Ed swallows.

Can´t take my eyes off you

But the most obvious sign, without doubt, was the way Mustang was always watching the older Elric. It was like the whole room, the whole world stopped around him and the only thing there existed was Ed. God, Roy's eyes practically turn into hearts every time he sees the guy!

Brother, do you remember that time...?

"A-Al?" he spoke, voice trembling, hoarse, quickly evidencing his insecurity. "Is so-something wrong?" Ed was doing what he could, making his best effort to be understood even though he was talking through sniffs and hiccups as he tried to stop his weeping. He wanted to help his little brother, wanted to extend his hands and wipe away the tears that were now staining that precious, perfect face, but- he couldn't.

Hope

Ed's eyes went huge when he heard his brother's voice, he practically fell over his stomach, his face a few centimeters over that little hole that was now connecting him to the most precious being in this horrible world.

"Al, Al, what are you doing, stupid?" his voice cracked; a smile instantly appeared on his face, but it was clouded by the tears that were now running over his cheeks.

Rain

Alphonse closed his eyes as he smiled, humming slightly with satisfaction at the feeling. He stood there for who knows how long, until two warm hands grabbed his shoulders, aggresively shaking him. He snapped his eyes open, just to find two golden irises worryingly looking at him.

Mr. Loverman

“Colonel… you have to move on. You know that, right? We don´t really like seeing you like this. Please, come back…” I completely ignored what Havoc said. I dismissed them with a hand gesture and entered my flat, closing the door behind my back.

Now if you decide to check one of these, PLEASE read the tags. Most of them are Edal, some Royed.

I have no friends here hajhdgsa but I´m tagging: @gey-beans @konekorambles @cai-danu @indo-mie @val-creative

[writefightandflightclub]

Tiptoe around this (Poe Dameron x reader)

Summary: Poe x short!reader. He CANNOT deal with your smolness.

Rating: TEEN

Author’s note: I’m doing soft blurbs this week bc you all deserve a hug from one of our fave fictional husbands. Let’s all destress and be comforted one blurb at a time, okay? (I’m doing these quickly so I can complete as many as I can for you, so they’ll be a bit scrappy, please forgive!) This one deleted itself and then I ahd to recreate it from nothing. The first version was better and probably had fewer typos but here we are. Ran out of time to check before dinner!

Warnings: short!reader; kissing (mildly steamy, no smut or implied smut).

GIF: @thestarwarsdaily​ LOOK HOW PRETTY

Poe’s dying. He swears he’s dying.

He’s doing his best to obscure this fact from Rey and Finn, however, so continues engaging in casual chat all the while as he hurtles towards his demise.

Poe’s dying, and, cause of death? Your cuteness.

Poe watches you surreptitiously from across the hangar. Watches as you realise someone has stolen your step ladders again, despite the fact you etched your kriffing name onto them in Aurebesh last time this happened. And so, to reach the tools you need -valiantly struggling on with your tasks anyway- you clamber up the face of the shelves and stretch to your full length as you attempt to grab down the box.

It appears you can’t quite reach them, even having climbed into a pretty precarious position.

The trouble is, you’re just too kriffing smol.

And it kills Poe. Every single time.

Of course, your height is only one of the reasons he likes you. He’s never even had a preference for his partner’s height before, to be honest. There’s just something about you. Something about how short you are which brings out his protective instincts. Makes him want to hold you and take care of you and spoil you. And Poe is already the type of guy to spoil his partner, so you can imagine how he feels about you.

Oh, and it certainly helps that you’re so kriffing gorgeous too. And funny. And nice. And did he mention SMOL?

Poe would never be patronising towards you because of your size, of course. He knows you’ve been underestimated plenty of times because of it - by both the enemy and allies- and without good reason! You might be cute to a lethal degree, but Poe is also well aware that you’re badass, capable, intelligent, and fierce. Small but mighty, you could say.

Still, when he sees you on your tippy toes trying to reach the box of parts, his heart melts and dribbles out of his feet. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like.

Death, by cuteness.

As you continue to persevere, Poe stops pretending to listen to Finn and Rey’s chatter altogether, a dopey smile settling on his face. He stands from the chair he’s straddling to zoom over to you, before some other handsome, height-endowed recruit can come to your assistance. He couldn’t have that, now, could he?

“Hey,” he says from behind you, a warm and gentle hand settling on your shoulder in greeting. “Can I help you?”

Poe hopes he can reach the damn shelf, because whilst he’s certainly taller than you are, he’s not exactly Chewy. Now, that would be embarrassing.

“Sure,” you say, even as you huff and puff, successfully grappling the box down to the floor without any further intervention. You recognise the Commander’s familiar, sandy voice before you even turn around, but when you do, you flash him a warm smile, and he could swear -if you killed him a moment ago- that smile has revived him back to life. “You can tell your damn recruits to stop stealing my ladders, Commander. I wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour from my squadron.”

You’re adorable, for sure, but there’s a fire in your eyes telling Poe you are not to be messed with. In fact, he’s sure that given half a chance you could raze the whole First Order to the ground, even if you did the whole thing on your tip toes.

Poe simply looks at you goofily, trying to remember how to speak, your eyes big as you gaze up at him from beneath your lashes. You’re basically a whole head shorter than him, if not more, and he can’t help but want to pull you into a hug, imagining how it would feel to enfold you against his chest and rest his chin on top of your head as his arms wound around you.

“Commander?” you ask again, clicking your fingers in front of his face. “I’m sick of doing everything on my tiptoes - I’m not a ballerina.”

Your gesture brings him back to the real world, and he notices the rolled-up sleeves of your flight suit as they hover in front of his face, his eyes dropping to the rolled-up cuffs of the legs resting on top of your boots. Standard-issue is too long for you and… yes, you’ve guessed it…

Kriffing adorable.

“Sure thing, Commander,” he finally says, still retaining that dopey, lovestruck expression on his face.

You nod to thank him, getting lost in his umber eyes somewhere along the way. He’s always entirely flustered when he speaks to you, and quite frankly, it’s so adorable that it makes your heart melt out of your feet. At least, that’s what it feels like.

You like Poe, and you think he likes you, but... both of you have been tiptoeing around this for far too long now.

“You know, there’s maybe one thing I like to do on my tiptoes,” you say with a knowing smirk as Poe looks helplessly between your eyes and lips, helplessly lost in yearning.

“What’s that?” he asks, and he can swear he intended the words to come out at a normal volume, despite the fact a mere whisper is all that emerges. Still, he’s happy as it causes you to lean in closer.

“Kissing,” you say with a gentle suggestion in your eyes, voice breathy and matching his hushed tones. You think it’s about time one of you makes a move, and it may as well be you.

Poe visibly gulps, and shuffles his feet a little closer to you.

Is this really happening?

He’s not sure how many times he can die and be reborn in one day, if he’s honest. The implication of your words and in your eyes encourages him though. Besides, he’s waited long enough for this moment, and now is as good a time as any, right?

“Kissing, huh? Well, honey, do you think you’d need to be on your tiptoes to kiss me?”

Your tongue darts out over your bottom lip, and an eagerness swells in your whole being, your body tingling with nerves and heat. Your mouths inch towards one another as if magnetised, your chin tipping up and his head stooping lower to greet you, as months of tension is compressed into the diminutive space between you.

“Guess we should find out,” you suggest with a sultry smirk, pausing a small distance from his lips, sharing the same air in the tight space between you.

Poe wraps his arms around your back, his hands feeling large and broad against you. You feel delicate encased in his strong arms, and you grab firmly at the holsters around his wide hips, tugging him close and bringing his body flush to yours. Poe feels warm and big and sturdy pressed against you. You’ve always been independent and capable, and yet there is something about Poe Dameron which makes you want to swoon for him, if only he would pledge to protect and care for you in all the ways your diminutive form might suggest you need him to.

Poe’s face inches closer and closer to yours, his lips pausing a hair’s breadth away from yours as your eyes fan shut, leaving you wanting. You swear your lips are tingling from the near-contact alone, crying out to brush with his.

“Oh oh,” he teases. “Can’t reach.”

You smile as you stand up on your tiptoes, closing the distance in an instant and crushing your lips to his, finding them soft, a hint of stubble grazing your cheek and he tips his head to the side. Upon contact, his tongue melds immediately with yours, deftly probing the cave of your mouth and melting you from within. Your hands slide up and up, coming to rest with your fingers laced around his neck, slipping into his hair.

As the kiss sparks and grows, Poe’s arms wrap firmly around your waist, and he bundles you up towards him, easily taking most of the weight of you, until your toes are entirely lifted off the floor as the kiss reaches its peak. You feel like you’re floating, in every sense.

Breathless and floored by that kiss, Poe sets you gently down, idiotic grins spreading across both of your faces as you stand there for a moment, still holding each other close. Poe looks down at you with adoration shining in his eyes, backlit with a gentle heat.

Feet back on the ground, more or less, you look self-consciously around as you both become suddenly aware of the hubbub created by the fact you both did that in the middle of the hangar.

Oops.

When your eyes look up at Poe again, he still has the softest, lovestruck smile on his pretty face.

“See you later?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah. I hope so,” you respond, returning his smile, and you stand on your toes to plant a quick chaste kiss to his cheek, cupping his face in your hand. You could swear his skin darkens in embarrassment, and he turns from you with the most bashful and adorable expression you’ve seen on his face yet.

You’re dying, you think. You must be dying. Death by cuteness.

You ignore the commotion you’ve caused, for the most part, and you watch Finn accost Poe for gossip as he tracks across the hangar. You see Rey beelining for you too, the dumbest grin on her face, and you turn back to your work as you notice her approach, taking a much-needed moment to catch your breath.

You kissed him. Poe Dameron. Your long-time crush.

It was true, that the two of you have both spent far too long tiptoeing around this, but it seems that Poe has finally swept you off your feet. It’s safe to say that you’ve never been so glad in your life to be too short to reach a shelf. Funny then, that his kiss has you feeling ten feet tall.

What’s more, this the last day that anyone steals your stepladders. Poe sees to that. Ain’t no-one gonna mess with his precious, smol bean. At least, not if he has anything to do with it.

[eleanorbloom]

I'm sincerely curious - how will Eleanor reveal to Bryce that she's pregnant?

I've missed Elle and Bryce so much 🥺🥺🥺 Glad to have you back!!!

My dear Conch! Thank you so much for asking this question! You have no idea how much joy you brought me when I had to think about an answer.

The thing is, I've always imagined it's not really a big surprise, but man, that doesn't mean it's not precious.

Eleanor and Bryce knew they'd had kids since they early stages of their relationship (once Eleanor make up her mind about certain attending, of course). It was just a matter of when.

Here's a litle ficlet. Hope it fills your curiosity, my darling ❤️

This is my submission for @openheartfanfics event Meet My MC: About The Future. Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week.

----

Little Blooms

Book/Pairing: Open Heart / Bryce Lahela x F! MC (Eleanor Bloom)

Word Count: 1.2k Warning/Rating: None/Teen

When Eleanor and Bryce proposed each other, they agreed to marry when they felt sure about taking the big step in parenthood. So, after they got married, Eleanor stopped taking the pill and hoped for the best.

Bryce noticed the changes since she stopped being on birth control. She wasn't regular in her period, she was way more horny than usual but also moody.

However, four months since she was off birth control, he noticed the morning sickness, how could he not if right after Bryce put a plate of omelette in front of her, Eleanor ran to the nearest bathroom and couldn't swallow anything that morning.

Completely oblivious, she blamed it to the churros she ate the night before.

Bryce was suspicious. He couldn't remember the last time she got her period, but it was a lot. But as they days passed and nothing extraordinary happened, he attributed it to the her body still adjusting to the lack of hormones.

Until he arrived home one night, late, after a massive surgery.

Eleanor wanted to tell him the moment she found out, early that afternoon, but Bryce would be on surgery for several hours, and this moment had to be private. The proposal and wedding had been so public, that she wanted this moment to be only theirs.

Bryce opened the door of their apartment around midnight and found Eleanor sitting by the couch in a lilac nightgown.

"Hey babe, you're still awake?"

"Yeah, I was waiting for you," She said softly.

When she got up from the couch, he saw an unusual glow on her face, in her eyes. It made his stomach flutter.

"Oh yeah? What for?"

She smirked, ignoring the question, "How did the bypass go?"

"It went well. We had some complications with an artery, but nothing I couldn't solve myself," he winked at her, with his usual confidence.

"That's awesome. Congrats, my love," she said leaning to kiss him on the lips.

There was a different softness in her kiss that night.

"How are you?" he asked with evident curiosity. He wasn't sure where this was going.

Her eyes lighted up.

"I'm great. I'm..." She sighed, as if she had been contianing the air for hours.

Maybe in a way she had been.

Then, she bit her lip and shook her head with her eyes full of wonder.

"Mi amor..." she whispered.

And he knew. Before she told him he knew.

"Mi amor, I'm pregnant," she confessed, releasing a long breath, "We're going to have a baby."

The world stopped right at that moment. Just like the moment he saw her walking down the aisle, beautiful like a goddess, ready to be his wife.

And this, this moment, this life-changing moment would be ablazed to his memory just like the moment he told her he loved her, or when she told him she had finaly fell in love with him. Or when she asked him to marry her, and right after that he asked her the same question.

They had lived so many life-changing moments together and he was sure they'd live a hundred more.

But this. This was different. This was something else. It felt surreal.

Their love had grown so big, it was enough to create another human being and bring it to this world. To overflow their lives with love and happiness.

"Elle, love. My love..."

He saw the tears spilling down her cheeks. Tears of joy, of utter happiness. Of that happiness just Bryce makes her feel.

"We're going to have a baby, my love. A baby from you and me."

Her words were pure sweetness. The most beautiful thing he could've ever heard from her.

He couldn't say anything. Even if they've been preparing for this moment, it was a whole new thing processing the reality. They would be parents. He would be a dad. They'd have a little bean made of their love. It wouldn't be just them, Bryce and Elle. It would be them and the new family they were building. Their kids. Their kids who would turn their lives upside down.

So Bryce kissed her. At his -unusual- loss for words he just kissed her and then laughed and laughed until a single tear spilled down his cheek too. He didn't know if the tears were of emotion or laugh. Either way, he didn't care, it was his most genuine reaction.

"Babe. My princess. My love," he whispered with utter tenderness, peppering her with kisses all over her face, starting on her forehead and down her cheeks, jaw, nose and finishing in her smiling lips, "My koala. We're gonna have little koala?"

Eleanor couldn't help but giggle. At the image of a little koala hanging in her arms, but also because of the tenderness in his voice.

"Or a little Goldie. Or maybe a Koldie."

Both snorted, a mixture of complicity and incredulity.

"It's gonna be a koala. I want him or she or they to be just as beautiful as you are."

"Ummm hello, where is my husband and what did you do with him?"

"Have I never told you you're the most beautiful creature in the universe?"

"Mmmm.... Multiple times."

"What's the surprise there, then?"

"You wouldn't want our kid to be like you? To inherit your beauty?"

"I do. But the second can be like me."

"Oh, and there's gonna be a second?"

"Well, yeah, we talked about two, at least."

"Well, yeah, but that depends on how the first one goes."

He nodded, chuckling, "I respect that."

Then, he slowly slid a hand to her side until his palm reached her belly. It was as usual, flat, but he knew there was something there. A little bean that in less than nine months would be with them to change their lives completely.

It already had changed his life completely.

"You know what?" he added, caressing her cheek with his knuckles, "They can all be like you, I don't care. That way every time I see them, I see you and they remind me of how happy you have made me."

"That's not fair," she giggled. "I want one looking just like you so I can see you when you're not close."

Bryce bit his lip and shrugged, "I guess we have no choice but have at least two so we're both happy."

"Two little Blooms," she said in a tiny voice, fighting the tears. It was moving how contemplative he was. But she knew, she knew that once the amazement was over, he would be ecstatic, and cheery and noisy, just like the Goldie he was, so Eleanor wanted to relish in that moment.

"Our little Blooms," he repeated softly, and he crouched down until his face was inches away from Eleanor's belly. "Hey baby, are you there? It's dad."

Eleanor couldn't help but sob as she saw Bryce talking to their baby for the first time, "I know you can't hear me, you probably don't even have a nervous system for now, but I want to tell you I already love you, and I'm so freaking happy you're coming."

Eleanor rested her hand on his head and caressed his silky hair softly, then she wrapped both arms around him and pulled him close.

"Te amo."

He enveloped her in his arms and looked up at her.

"And I love you. Once again you have made me the luckiest man on this planet."

That night, they barely sleept. The plans for the future and guesses about how their baby would be and look made them lost track of space and time.

They were immersed in their own bubble of love and happiness.

[softrozene]

Luffy with a S/O that Leaves

Anonymous requested: Hi! I wanted to request Luffy with an s/o that leaves because they think he'll be better off without her and they cross paths again at some point and they try to run away but Luffy catches them before they get the chance? Ignore it if you don't want to do it. Thanks!

We stan Luffy here. The precious bean. Precious cinnamon roll. The pure sweetheart. I could not make him angry lmao but this is slighlty angsty for the Reader. Fdjalkfa Anyway, enjoy Lovely!

Luffy x Reader (Gender Neutral/Non-binary)

Warnings: Slightly angsty feelings, fluff, a sliver of comedy, Reader self-doubts

Words: 1043

Headcanons:

Okay when Luffy first finds out his partner left the crew- He would go through the stages of grief be slightly heartbroken from the lack of trust and will probably throw a tantrum (as in he straight-up stress eats everything on the ship)

But chances are you had to do it this way because you know he would not let you leave otherwise (unless you had a really and I mean extremely good reason- Like your dream no longer aligns with the crew- He can be understanding when he wants to but if it is because you are doubting yourself- Oh boy you are in trouble)

So, he will take that into consideration and he just knows in his heart you will meet again

And he vows to have you return to his crew because while you may be his significant other, he is your captain, and he did not give you permission to leave

As for how he acts- He definitely does not look affected (after his stress eating)

Though he would originally tell someone to go get you

Zoro would do it and will get lost. Robin and Chopper will be the ones who track your last whereabouts before they lose you and eventually accept you left

Scenario:

You let out a little puff of air. A bit from frustration but more from knowing you were going to get caught. The marines have been relentless. This island has been one of the stricter ones you have ever seen, and it is like they disregard you leaving the Straw Hats. They only want your head so they can take down the bounty for good.

It is fine though- You seem fine and have managed well the past few months without them. Even though your heart aches whenever you remember them (which is almost constantly) or when you see their increasing bounty- You know it was for the best.

How could you possibly be selfish enough to stay with them? Ruin their reputation when they are all total badasses (yes, even the scaredy-cat trio). You wanted nothing more to see them succeed but… You were totally normal. You had no special power going on. You had no special way to help them reach their goals. You were just… You.

It was for the best you left. You managed to somehow convince yourself of this. That they are better off without you but it still does not stop the ache in your heart from growing. Or the way you feel the hot tears fall down your cheeks. They were your family and you left.

Surely, even if you were to cross paths again- They would not be happy to see you. They must hate you.

You did not even want to think of Luffy. But you do. Constantly.

That is the part that hurts the most- Leaving your loveable lover behind but it needed to be done. He is destined for greatness. He is going to be the King of Pirates so how can you dare call yourself his when he is going to be one of the greatest things the world has ever known?

Even now- As he is, he is so pure, too good- Just somehow you feared ruining his name. You dreamt of returning to him. It was a pure blissful nightmare. One that made you wake up with sorrow but excited to go to sleep the next night knowing you can dream of him.

So surely, just now as you walk quickly through the marketplace, at a brisk pace- You swear this is a nightmare. This has to be a dream as your eyes gaze upon a familiar hat a block away. You pinch yourself, a little too hard but enough to know that- Oh god, this is not a nightmare.

He is here on this island and about to see you.

You quickly dodge yourself into an alleyway- So thankful that you know your way around the island now but… If he is here there is only a little bit of time before this island is upon chaos as always. The marines here are relentless so surely- Luffy will know eventually that you are here.

Oh no. You need to leave and now.

You quickly go down the alleyway and turn to head back to the inn you are staying at only to let out a barely audible gasp (or was it a scream)? You are unsure what sound you made as you stare at a pouty face Luffy who now has his arm wrapped firmly around your waist.

The reason why you made that sound and suddenly feel intense fear is from the look on his face. It made you want to laugh because it is a look of disappointment (that would usually be given to whoever does not give him what he wants). You missed him dearly, but the fear is too much.

He is going to tell you how angry he is at you. How he can’t forgive you.

That is until he pushes that away with these simple words. “I knew it was you! (Name) why’d you run?! I missed you so much! You know I was really mad when you left but Robin told me you were feeling just like her! You are not allowed to leave your family like that again!”

It was only a few seconds, but he has already forgiven you. He knows you left because you thought it was for the better. He does not care. Now that he quite literally as you back in his arms he will not let go. The tears are almost immediate as you wrap your arms around him. The logic you tried to convince yourself- The reason you left the crew- Flying right out the window because it feels so good just to be back in their presence. To feel your lover’s and captain’s love and need for you.

You can feel the slight hurt and no matter how hard you think it is right to leave you just can’t do it again. You can’t force him to go through that pain and as he said. He won’t let you go just because you feel like you don’t deserve to be with them.

[goldemas1244]

Heyyyy I have a question :3

Do you have any headcanon/s for these character : Scraptrap, Scrap Baby, Lady Dimistrecu, the three daughter of Lady D, Heisenberg and/or Molten Freddy ? :3

You don't have to do all the proposition, you can choose what character you want to do :3

Have a good day/evening and stay safe ! :3

*Cracks knuckles* \(^v^)/

You already know I'm doing all of them! Thank you for the ask! Headcanons under the cut!

FNaF6

Scraptrap

He loves rice and would do anything to get his paws on it. Fortunately, the pizzeria is quite close to a Chinese restaurant so rice is easy to get.

He orders a rice-based menu at least three times a week, so the owners aren't at all that surprised to see a tuxedo-clad zombie-rabbit come in and ask for their signature fried rice with buttered lobster on the side.

Since he like to dine-in there, he usually asks Michael to give him a bath in exchange for pizzeria improvements. Michael usually shrugs and gives him a well-deserved bubble bath and his tuxedo.

He likes it when Michael gives him head pats and rubs. It makes him feel loved and appreciated.

He has a pet pigeon named Fernando Buschmann. It's German and likes to listen to the violin.

He likes ASMR and memes. ASMR makes him go feral with murderous intent while memes make him question the modern generation.

He has social media accounts, all named "Willton-Moldover". He usually posts cosplays and furry art on them and has 93 followers on his Reddit profile, 1.5 million followers on his Instagram, 550 followers on his Tumblr, 35 on his Snapchat, and 3.95 million on his TikTok.

He also has a YouTube channel with 10.784 million subscribers called "Willton-Gameover". He plays videogames one-handed and roasts popular YouTubers and famous people. He would never roast Keanu Reeves though, because Keanu Reeves is precious bean.

Due to his popularity he gets a lot of hate mail and private pics. He doesn't like them at all so he blackmails the people who post them. And if the media and police are involved? Well, he has a strong fanbase that's not going down as well as a good alibi so that works out well for him.

Yes, his fanbase also knows of the Fazbear Murders, and he admits to it but frankly, he's shown them the approving ghost kids (who've bonded and gamed with him) so that's no big deal. Only Cassidy hates him, but it's usually constipated anger.

He's bisexual and has an ENORMOUS crush on one of his favourite game characters, Karl Heisenberg. Something about that man reminds him of himself and Henry, although he's not sure what. Still, don't let that distract you from the fact that he owns a nude Karl Heisenberg body pillow, CAPCOM official.

Scrap Baby

Her favourite Monster High doll is Draculaura. She doesn't understand how pink goes well with black but oh boy, pink goes so well with black.

She knows how to skateboard like a pro. Despite her weight, her trusty skateboard still stands and, if she falls, she's always got her skates to spare. She likes to impress the boys at the skatepark with her ability to perform even the most difficult of moves with ease.

She's subscribed to fifteen different tabloid subscriptions. She likes to read them and criticize the stupidity of the human race, like her father. Hey, it's hereditary.

The lights in her boobies glow in the dark. They also glow whenever she gets tired.

She likes reading furniture and gardening catalogues. She's judgy of the prices though and usually becomes a full-on critic with Lefty listening.

She owns a crab named Mr. Tootie. No I will not elaborate on the name. I'll only tell you that it's taken a liking to kazoos and party favours.

She's listed as the No. 1 Best Fan of her father's social media accounts. Michael's in nineteenth place but don't worry, he's as emotionless as a mushroom.

She likes to make origami lotuses. She's such a pro at it that she's even got a mini-stall at the pizzeria: 1 lotus for 50 cents. It's a lucrative business, and it's still growing. Oh, and she switches to other origami works of art every week such as origami guns and origami nine-tailed foxes.

She's the Restaurant Rescue manager. Usually she saves kids from trouble. For this reason, yes, she's commonly seen in the pizzeria itself. Kids love her though the claw worries the more irksome parents.

She's a professional Karen dealer. Karen comes to see the manager? She's hypnotically talented in weaving her words through the toughest of craniums so don't be surprised if a Karen walks out with a new viewpoint of life.

She performs on stage on the occasion, which usually gets her a lot of fan love. She cherishes everything good they give but ignores the problematic everythings. Problematic stuff? Oh, she's good friends with the police chief.

Molten Freddy

He loves noodles. Give him a bowl of ramen and he'll shut up for the entire night. Enter him in a noodle-eating competition and his high metabolism rate means absolutely non-stop spaghetti.

He misses Bon-Bon very much. To the point where he's even tried to make a scrap version of him. Sadly, it doesn't work. He cried that day.

He dies inside whenever he finds out there's a spaghetti shortage in Utah. Poor Molten.

He's a bit wonky, but if he tries to play with you or get into your personal space, don't get mad at him! He's just lonely and wants someone to talk to and play with.

He likes to play Exploding Kittens. It's the only card game he's good at. It's also the only card game he owns.

He sees Helpy as a little brother and boops his nose on a daily basis. He also likes to reenact The Lion King with him (It's the ciiiiiircle of liiiiiife~). Hopefully Helpy doesn't mind.

He knows a lot of jokes in a lot of languages. So German-speaking Molten Freddy wouldn't be too far away from expectation. His favourite jokes are in French though; the wordplay is just immaculate.

He's good in French, English, German, Russian, and Malay. He's currently learning Japanese because he's a mega weeb.

His favourite cartoon is Charlie and Lola. He just likes to see the sibling shenanigans as it somehow reminds him of the good old days.

His favourite shows would be prankster shows. He especially loves the ones that give him new and creative ideas. He doesn't like the scary ones though. They make him feel unsafe and give him anxiety.

Surprisingly, he has a distinct taste for opera. He can modulate the remnants of his voice box to perfectly sing I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Major-General. This both pisses off and impresses Henry to an extent.

Resident Evil 8

Lady Dimitrescu

She might act like the opposite but she really loves Heisenberg as her little brother. His determination, strength, speed, dexterity, and workaholic nature impresses her, who can't even fit through a doorway. She sometimes wishes she's as short as him too.

She's an avid collector of glass, porcelain, and anything fragile. It's a good reason to always be careful where you tread in her lair. She'll make you swallow every last shard if you don't.

She's an avid romance fanatic and is very loving towards the romance novels she owns. All those books you see in the in-game library? They're her collection of lesbian romances that she's collected over the past decades.

She doesn't like hats and prefers to stick to the one she wears in-game. She DOES have a collection of hats though. Last anyone counted, there were over fifty, one or two for each decade she's lived through.

She files her nails on a constant basis and owns an ornately decorated nail-clipper. Hygeine is of the utmost importance. She doesn't want to be compared to that filthy Heisenberg.

Despite her size and carefulness she keeps losing her stuff. Over the course of a week she could misplace three wine glasses, two reading glasses, and fifteen bottles of wine.

She's an expert at dodgeball and golf and even owns a lifetime access to the most prolific Country Club in Romania. With permission from Mother Miranda she goes there every year for the yearly party. It's one of the times she gets to see modernity (and Ed Sheeran) at its finest.

She loves bands from the 1920s and 1940s. However, she gets bored of them occasionally and switches them to something more modern, like Ed Sheeran. Seriously though, what is up with mums and Ed?

She's into executions and torture methods. So it's no surprise that she's a HUGE fan of Horrible Histories; even if she can't watch the show, she'll binge-read the books over and over again. She's even had the chance to encounter (and receive an autograph from) Terry Deary. They have sworn a bond not to tell anybody about this.

She loves exotic animals like anacondas and jaguars. She may or may not have owned a 10ft long Saltwater Crocodile (which was also about 5ft wide).

She's an incredible physicist and mathematician. She's also created many original formulae but unsurprisingly, she doesn't tell anyone about them, for fear that either more people may know of her, or that she may be wrong.

Dimitrescu Babes

They can devour an entire human being in mere seconds as flies. It's sort of like the scarab beetles in The Mummy movies. However, unlike the beetles, they are able to strip the bones as well. They leave nothing behind.

They all know how to play the piano with varying levels of success. Daniela can already play professionally while Bela is still stuck on Grade 5.

They love to listen to their mother when she tells them stories. Gotta hand it to 'em, when you're a fly, you know how to enjoy life in its most simple of moments.

They all love being around the hunky Soldats of Uncle Karl. Fortunately, they don't know of the rebellious plan to conquer Miranda.

Bela is bisexual, Cassandra is asexual and pansexual, and Daniela is demisexual.

It gets hard when you're a fly during the summer. If it's not the lizards, spiders, and other predators, it's the heat. Because of this, despite the material waste, they have invented the world's first blood-powered air conditioner.

The three girls have never ever ever touched a stove or oven in their life. They HAVE touched the hot end of an iron though. A good reason to not touch a bloody oven. Alcina has though, but doesn't tell them that.

They love puppies! Uncle Karl brought them a baby labrador. For the rest of the week Alcina had lost quite a bit of favour from them. Not that they minded of course. IT'S A PUPPY.

They don't like snow one bit. Not just because it's cold, but because it's too white. Too bright. Too shiny. They just can't focus on their prey!

They like to go over to Auntie Donna to play with Angie. Well, you know what they say, crazies attract the crazies, and the crazy has attracted the crazies.

They also like to go to Uncle Moreau's because he's the only one in the village with a PS4. Usually they'd spend about three-quarters of a day playing his games and eating his cheese.

Karl Heisenberg

He owns a dark blue armchair named Junkyard. Despite the name, he loves it dearly because it was a gift from Alcina for his twenty-first birthday. It became part of his final transformation too. Right under the hat.

He's a little blind in the right eye, much to his annoyance. It was a minor accident with Sturm; another reason for him to hate the uncontrollable wretch. He'll never live that day down.

Somehow, he sees better in the dark, which is why he wears such tinted glasses. He also wears them to hide his expressions, since, more often than not, he tends to end up wearing his heart on his sleeve, and his emotions in his eyes.

He's under a lot of pressure so it's no surprise that he breaks down in his factory when he knows he's alone. And by break down I mean crumple into an exhausted heap on the floor. Not even his Soldat Jet squad can wake him up until he's had a reasonable eight hours of rest.

He bathes once a day, every evening, but only three times a week. Perfume, tobacco, and cologne keep care of the rest.

He's the only Lord with a daily contact with the outside world due to his electrical abilities. Don't tell Miranda, but he can electrically CONNECT TO GOOGLE AND THE ENTIRE INTERNET IN GENERAL. He likes to play funny YouTube cat videos in his head when Miranda's having a boring meeting. It's also how he finds out that Chris is a boulder-punching asshole.

He does stimming! He likes to tap his fingers on his desk and the metal rails in his factory. He also buys stim toys from the Duke and keeps them in a well-kept box. His favourite is a non-ripping squishable toy duck. He also sings to chill out.

He's absolutely in the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise, and may have once believed in the pizzeria's existence. Come on, he's a mutated Overlord with magical magnet powers. Children souls stuck inside animatronics isn't too far-fetched of an idea. His favourite characters are the Funtimes and the Scraps, mainly because of the blueprint complexity. He HAS tried to replicate the animatronics in his spare time, but he's usually too busy with his Soldats so the project gets scrapped. He loves The Living Tombstone's songs and remixes though.

He doesn't like William Afton at all (though he marvels at his survivability). William's nature and habits remind him of Mother Miranda. He DOES however enjoy Michael Afton and often thinks how it would be absolutely amazing to have that resilient being in his Soldat army.

He's scared of what lurks below the watery depths and fire. Ironic because his brother is a literal fish and he works in one of the most hazardous fire-conducting environments. He's also scared of heights, though he doesn't get airsick.

He once died due to a killing electric shock whilst working on Sturm. It's the only time he's felt that sort of pulsing agony and also the first time he's had the confirmation that yes, Hell is real and yes, he'll end up in quite a dark pit in it. Or it could've been an electric dream, who knows? Anyways his soul apparently ran towards the opposite direction of the flames and he woke up alive after the passing of FIVE ENTIRE WEEKS. Oh boy did Alcina get worried when she couldn't find him.

Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoy!

[haikyuuwaifu]

CH.1

Genre: Angst, Drama, Humor

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death

MASTERLIST

I GOT INTO A FIGHT AT SCHOOL

Shinsou tried his absolute best to keep a straight face, as he watched Eri kick her legs back and forth in the chair she was advised to sit in until an adult could come discuss the problem. She refused to look at her uncle, knowing full well he was going to rat her out to her mother later that evening.

The school year had started a month ago, and Eri found herself having a harder time than she did in kindergarten. The girls thought she was weird because she didn’t like frilly girl things, and the boys told her she couldn’t play with them because she’s a smelly girl. It was really annoying. Crossing her arms over her chest, Eri let out a huff as she stared out the window.

Bakugo walked into his classroom twenty minutes later, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. Situating his glasses back on his face, he turned only to meet the smug grin of his best friend. “What the hell are you doing here?” he grumbled, turning to shut his door. “I’m here, as Eri’s guardian.” Shinsou grinned, moving to ruffle his niece’s hair. “Well, I don’t know if this is ‘a you’ issue Hito, she got into a physical altercation with another child.” Katsuki began, staring down at the little girl still swinging her legs. 

Sitting in front of her, Katsuki coaxed her head up, so she could meet him eye to eye. “Now, tell me what happened.” he muttered, softly waiting for her to start. Eri merely shrugged her shoulders shaking her head. “He already told you his side, so what’s the point if you’re not going to believe me.” she questioned dubiously. “I never said I was going to believe him or you. I simply asked him his side of the story.” Bakugo chided sternly, “Now tell me your side.” Eri pondered her next move, before sighing and uncrossing her arms. “He said that it was stupid, that I wanted to play hockey cause girls don’t play hockey.” Eri pouted, waving her hands around. “And I know that’s not true, cause my papa Mirio played hockey, and my mama Nejire was an ice skater; and mama told me if I wanted to play I could play, and Mama never lies to me.” Eri seethed, ranting now. Katsuki waited a full ten minutes as Eri ranted. “Then, he said I was weird because I only had a mama! and I said I had a mama and a papa but they died, and my mama does the best she can.” Eri whispered, closing in on herself. “Mama works super hard, to take care of me the way she knows mama Nejire would have wanted to if she could have Mr. Bakugo.” “But he said that it wasn’t the same and he was glad my parents died...so I did what Mama said I should do when someone says stuff like that...and I hit him.” Eri looked up at Bakugo eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I...sometimes I get so angry and I don’t know what to do Mr. Bakugo.” and she cried, throwing herself into the mans arms. 

Shinsou looked at his niece, his own unshed tears at the edge of his eyelids. He knew that as Eri aged she’d get more curious about her parents, but he didn’t know she was going through this kind of trouble. Turning Eri sniffled slightly, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “Please don’t tell mama Toshi. I don’t want her to get upset because I couldn’t hold it in.” Eri whispered, her face still partially buried into Bakugo’s chest. “I doubt your mother will be mad Eri, especially when your uncle tells her why you hit the other student.” Katsuki whispered, his voice soothing as he rubbed her back. Shinsou nodded in agreement, “Your mama would be so proud of you sweetheart, you know that. But let’s pack up your stuff and we can talk more about it on the way home.” Shinsou suggested, getting up to retrieve the small girls bag. “I’ll drop her off at home and meet up with you and the boys at the bar later.” Hitoshi mumbled, waving his friend goodbye minutes after helping Eri pack. Eri turned, running at Katsuki to hug his legs, and mumbled out a thank you; running out of the classroom door and down the hallway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening found Bakugo frequenting the bar near his home, a glass of beer in his hand as he rested his cheek in his palm. Half listening to Denki and Sero’s conversation, he turned only to be met with the same dimpled smile he had been seeing all his life. “Kachan!” Uraraka cooed, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. Before she could say anything else, she felt herself being tugged away from the tense blonde man and facing an annoyed Izuku Midoriya. “If I remember correctly, no on invited you Ochaco.” he hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. Uraraka merely giggled waving him off. “I had a free night Zuku! And I missed hanging out with you guys!” she gestured waving her hands toward the group of friends in front of her. Denki and Sero paid her no mind, and Katsuki continued to nurse his drink hoping for some kind of distraction. That distraction came in the form of Shinsou and his two boyfriends, Dabi and Keigo. Dabi walked passed Uraraka ignoring her entirely, whereas Keigo opted to simply flip her the finger before settling down next to his boyfriend. 

Shinsou took up the space next to Katsuki eyeing Uraraka for a few minutes. “The fuck are you doing here?” he asked, flagging a waitress down and ordering a few pitchers for the table. “I’m here to spend time with my best friend Shin!” Ochaco stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Dabi scoffed, rolling his eyes. Uraraka glared, cocking her hip out as she turned to the burnt man. “You got a problem with that Todoroki?” she hissed, eyes narrowing. Dabi merely shrugged his shoulders, grinning mildly. “I could give a shit less about you, I just find it funny how you conveniently have time for Katsuki now; when all you’ve cared about the past number months is yourself.” Before Uraraka could scream at him, she felt the arm of her fiancé loop around her shoulder and tug her close. “Baby!” she cooed, curling into Monoma’s chest to give him a chaste kiss. The man in question simply beamed at his girl, before turning and glaring at the table of men behind her.

Someone bumped into the couple, causing the glasses on the table to tip over and spill on them. “Whoops, didn’t see you there friend.” Shoto smiled, bowing politely. Monoma was seething with rage, ready to say something when Uraraka tugged him toward the bathroom. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to take Shoto on with the boys behind them, so for now she’d leave it alone. Turning toward Katsuki, Shoto nodded and the blonde nodded back. “You really need to get the fuck over her.” Keigo mumbled, nibbling on a french fry. “The only way he’s going to do that is by finding someone else.” Dabi argued, sipping his glass. Katsuki turned toward Shinsou tuning the two out, and mumbled quietly. “Did Eri get in trouble with her mother?” Shinsou let out a loud laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, Y/N praised her for sticking up for herself, and showed her a different way of causing volatile harm.” Katsuki found himself chuckling at that, as Shinsou gave the rest of the men a quick rundown of the events from earlier in the day.

“Honestly, if I were Y/N I’d go after that kids mom.” Izuku huffed, arms crossed over his chest. “There’s no way a kid could say something like that without some kind of parental influence.” he continued, as Shoto nodded his head in agreement. “Other than that, how is Eri taking to first grade?” Keigo asked, turning toward Katsuki. “She’s doing really well in all her subjects, she just seems to have a hard time during recess.” Katsuki mumbled, taking a sip of his drink. “She’s kind of introverted, so that might have something to do with it; but the other girls don’t play with her because she’s not girly and the boys think she’s weird.” Dabi scoffed, slamming his fist on the table. “She’s not weird! She’s a precious smol bean!” Denki snickered, waving his hand in the other mans face. “Pretty sure you’re drunk light weight.” Dabi shook his head to dispute it, only to end up falling over on Keigo. “Eri’s parents are a touchy subject for her, so these things will probably continue to happen.” Keigo informed Katsuki, positioning Dabi in a more comfortable spot. “She can be aggressive too, kind of like you were when we were kids Kachan, but Y/N has her doing soccer right now, so it helps a little.” Deku snickered, avoiding the swipe Katsuki took at him. Shinsou snapped his fingers, recalling the question Eri asked earlier that day. “She wants to play Hockey! So I told her I’d look into it.” Katsuki shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t see why she couldn’t. There’s no rules about a girl playing...she’s a little small t-” Shoto shook his head “Eri won’t let something like her size affect her ability to play. She’s a fucking prodigy on the ice.” he interrupted. “Y/N is a corporate lawyer, and she inherited everything Nejire and Mirio had when they died. Money is nothing to her, so if Eri needs a customized hockey uniform she’ll get it.” Katsuki merely nodded, pulling his glass to his lips. It never occurred to him, to know all of Eri’s back story, but he found himself wondering what more there was to this girl and her mother. Seems like he’d have to do some digging of his own.

PROLOGUE| CH.2

@dabilove27​ @victory-is-here​ @amberalisa​ @soullesstaco​ @lavender-moon13​ @whereserwinsarm​ @tsukkisfatsimp @bakugous-mamas​ @that-chick212 @bakugousbitchbaby​ @daniskywalkersolo @barnesparkers​ @marjillana @starrygoblin​ @faithfulferns​ @ouijaeater15​

a/n: if there is a cross through your name, it would not let me tag you

[1025cherrystreet]

New Home for the Holidays!

happy holidays! and merry christmas to whoever celebrates it!! <3

disclaimer: kinda scared ngl, this is my first piece of writing i’m putting on tumblr. i usually use wattpad (my username is the same it is here if you wanna follow me!), so i’m still learning how to do this lmao. hope you like it! any feedback is appreciated!!!

also... i didn’t really proofread this bc i got impatient and wanted to post it before christmas lol :)

warnings: none, just fluff ;)

gf!y/n spends christmas with harry and his family.

You hear the faint chime of the doorbell ringing from inside the house as you nervously pick at your fingers down at your side. Harry notices the small action, quickly taking your hand to intertwine with his, shooting you a small smile in hopes to calm your nerves.

And it does. For a moment. Until the door swings open and Anne appears on the other side. What finally does put your anxiety to rest is the big, warm hug she pulls you into, a splitting grin adorning her face. You chuckle in surprise (mostly at the fact she hugged you first and not her own son), but return the kind action, nonetheless.

"Oh my gosh! Y/N, my dear, you look gorgeous as always!" She says pulling back just enough to look at your face.

"Thank you! You're looking quite good yourself, Mrs. Twist." You return either a kind smile.

"Oh, none of that. I've told you before, call me Anne," She looks at you with a knowing and playful scowl, waving you off.

"Wow, hello to you too mum," Harry mutters from next to you, plastering a fake pout on his lips.

She softly scoffs, releasing her hold on you and moving to embrace her son.

"You look gorgeous too, Harry. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She jokes, the familiar smirk she holds reminds you of the one your boyfriend pulls so frequently.

When they release from their tight squeeze, Anne steps inside and holds the door open before speaking.

"Well... Don't want you two to freeze out there, come in! I was just fixing a cuppa,"

The warmth of her home heats your frozen fingertips as you enter and your glad to be out of the snow. You love the snow, but since growing up not experiencing it often where you lived makes it a little hard to bear in times like these. You couldn't remember many times you've had a white Christmas before (probably could count on one hand, if your honest), but you've always remembered them being the best ones.

You've always loved the holidays. You loved the cold weather and the time with family. You loved you're yearly family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve night and taking a picture on the staircase in your childhood home the next morning. You loved making hot chocolate and watching you're family open the presents you got them.

You loved the holidays. But, what you love more than anything, is that this year you get to spend them with Harry.

You've been dating for two years now, but last Christmas, you spent it with your own family, as did he, because it was a bit too soon in y'all's relationship to make that step. However, this year Harry extended the invitation for you to join them and after talking with your parents (and your brother, albeit he didn't care one bit) you accepted the invite. Of course, not without making sure you wouldn't be imposing at all. And with Harry's reassuring words of, wouldn't have asked if we all didn't want you there, and besides, baby, it wouldn't be Christmas without all my loved ones, would it?, you started packing for London.

Harry shrugs off his coat as you both stand in the foyer and you follow suit as a voice shouts from the kitchen.

"Are they here?" A familiar sister calls out excitedly.

You and Harry enter the kitchen and he's immediately pulling Gemma into a bear hug. You look at the sight and smile fondly, noticing her boyfriend, Michal, behind them, but not before worrying for Gemma's breath support as Harry noticeably squeezes tighter.

They let go of each other and she playfully scowls at him, swatting his arm. To which Harry dramatically holds his arm, draining an, ow, that hurt!, receiving an eye roll from Gemma before Harry moves to greet Michal, and his stepdad, Robin.

"Hi, Y/N! It's so great to see you, feels like it's been ages," She greets you in turn, having enough of Harry's antics already. You return the greeting, along with the one to Michal and Robin, and before you know it, you're all deep into conversation.

Harry takes up spot right on your side like a leech. If you were being honest, it took you awhile to become accustomed and comfortable to how openly affectionate Harry is with you in front of his family and friends. At first, it was just small touches and light squeezes when the two of you would go out with Mitch and Sarah. The actions not bold enough for you to scold him, but just enough to make your cheeks turn pink. Not long after, the touches turned into sweet kisses to your cheek and draping a protective arm around you almost every time y'all went out. Which wasn't a problem until you realized how many stares your friends shot you when you started to get too comfortable in his warm embrace, most of the time opting to daze out in Harry's comfort than pay attention to conversation. So then, when the little affections turned into koala-esque cuddling into your side and planting heart-stopping kisses to your lips in front of Gemma and Anne this past summer, you decided to tell him to reign it back just a tad. It wasn't that you didn't like it! Quite the contrary, the sweet scent of his cologne that would flood your senses as he settled so close to you made your head fuzzy, and the pecks along your neck or on your hands or on your cheeks left you incapable of being present.

Of course, your loving boyfriend pouted a bit at the fact he claims, you don't want my kisses, but quickly got over it when you dropped to your knees before the boy to press kisses somewhere he couldn't complain about.

However, despite all of your protests to PDA, you can't help but relinquish your resolve as you melt into the couch with Harry between your legs, head resting on your tummy. The whole family (which includes you now!) is settled into their comfy spots in Anne's living room as Miracle on 34th Street plays on the TV, everyone having changed into their fuzziest Christmas pajamas. The realization when you saw Harry, Gem, and Anne had matching pajama bottoms made your heart grow tenfold and your eyes glaze over in complete fondness.

The smell of kettle corn popcorn (as Harry made it since he knows it's your favorite) and cinnamon candles fill the room. Anne and Robin are together on the couch perpendicular to yours against the wall opposite of you and Harry as the two of you are laid out taking up the whole space on y'all's blue sofa, while Gemma and Michal have cuddled up on the floor, sharing the big bean bag off to your left since they were the last ones to join the holiday movie marathon.

You love the dynamic of Harry's family. Much different than the chaotic mess of yours, and although you still love your family very much (despite their constant need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason whatsoever, fight over little things, and ignore each other on a daily basis), you admire how calm their presence is. You're family is just so... loud. And that's not necessarily a bad thing! The running joke of your family is that no one in it is capable of whispering...well, except you but you all blame it on the anxiety. But even so, your parents and brother have always argued. Over everything. Very rarely is it about something important, and seldom does it get out of control, but your family's way of showing affection is very...unique? Y'all aren't openly nice and polite all the time. As confusing as it might sound, y'all show your love in bickering. The love is more underlying than it is direct in show.

But that's why you can't get over how quiet this house is right now. Not one fight over someone breathing wrong has broke out and Harry and Gemma actually get along and enjoy each other's company. They're like... friends! The concept is crazy to you and you can't help but get just a tad bummed how your family doesn't just sit around all cuddled up, and how they'll get something for you while their up so you don't have to move from your comfy spot, or how Anne will just hug Harry out of nowhere. But the more you think about it, you realize that it's probably because Harry wasn't around much, always touring and traveling the world. He never got the time to playfully bicker with his family. So, as everyone is quiet in their comfort, you take it all in, happy that you're given the chance to experience their household dynamic.

Your fingers play with Harry's hair, running them through the long brown curls, still as wonderstruck at how soft his hair is as ever. Hearing him softly hum when you gently tug through a thicker curl.

"You're so effortlessly beautiful, ya know that?" You whisper to him, the sound of the movie, thankfully, covering you're affection from everyone else.

You can just spot the smitten little grin that grows on his face, and despite not having the angle to see, you just know his precious dimple is making a showcase right now...and that's enough to put a smile on your own face.

Instead of replying in words, he only turns his head to place a soft, melting kiss upon your thigh. Making heat surge through your entire body, in turn, making your heart warm at his love.

As y'all sit and watch the movie, you start to subconsciously braid your boyfriends hair. Starting by sectioning (albeit, a bit lazily) his hair into two big chunks, then separating three strands from the top of his head, you start braiding the pieces, adding a bit more hair as you go. He eventually caught on to what you were doing and you thought he was going to stop you, truthfully. But to your surprise, he only started rubbing gentle circles into your legs with his hands in a calming manner, causing you to release a content sigh.

When you get to the end, you tie off the finished braid with a hair tie from your wrist before moving to the other side of his sectioned head. It surprised you how long his braids are! They come down about a few inches below his chin, much longer than the only other time you had saw him in braids, which was when Lou did them right before he went on stage to perform. Now, your braiding skills aren't as refined as Lou's are, her skills making yours look rather sad, but you're having a blast doing it and that's all that matters. Not like he's going to go perform after this, right?

After securing the second braid in a hair tie, you lean forward and place a kiss to the top of Harry's head, causing him to tilt his head to look at you with a big smile on his pretty face.

Since you're sat up already and hovering over his face with him still in your lap, you press a quick, searing kiss to his lips, watching them curve into a splitting grin. You smile back at him, just admiring his features.

Despite being able to feel the loving stares from Gemma and Anne in the room, your focus is still on Harry.

“I love you,” He whispers, bringing a hand up to gently stroke your cheek.

“I love you too, bubs.” You return, because you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes.

Looking at him now, surrounded by his family, you think you have never been so happy in your entire life. You’re so lucky to have him in your life, and you know he knows he’s lucky too.

But most of all, you’re so glad you decided to spend this Christmas with him.

[itamiiscribble]

*HiSS* [Bakugou Katsuki/Reader] One Shot

"Did-...Did you just fucking hiss at me?" 

𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘵? The question is hanging heavy in the air.

Katsuki was looking genuinely surprised. And a little pissed. Wait, ist that amusement you see in his eyes?

What a weird combination of emotions on 𝘰𝘯𝘦 face.

You don't really know what made you react that way. You were confused yourself. Why were you just standing there and hissing at someone like a fucking cat of all things. But to be fair, he deserved it.

You don't like him. You don't like him 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭. It's hard to be near someone who genuinely thinks of himself as the best. Walking around like the world exists only for him.

Why doesn't he just put a fucking crown on his spiky head and declare himself as the King of all UA.

Sigh.

 

To be honest, you just can't stand bullies.

 

And gradually everyone in class 1A had figured out about his past with Deku including yourself. And it just never sat well with you. You couldn't believe it the first time you had heard about it. Someone like him, training to become a hero? And the fact that Deku had already forgiven him for it. It took Deku days to convince you that it didn't bother him that much. That he is stronger now and wouldn't allow something like that to happen again. And in the end you had let out an exhausted sigh and pinched his freckled cheek lightly, pointing out that he was too kind for his own good. Broccoli boy had just laughed at that and in that moment you knew; you would protect this precious bean with the rest of the Deku squad.

But that didn't mean 𝘺𝘰𝘶 were able to forget about it.

And ever since, you had used every possible situation to show just how much you despised Katsuki Bakugou.

Call it prejudice, you didn't care. You couldn't just forgive and forget. Your past experiences not allowing it.

Who knows how many other people's mental health he had ruined that way.

And so it had all began. If he barked, you barked back. Tenfold louder and more effective. You had to admit, it was definitely satisfying to see his reactions when he couldn't find the right words to counter. You didn't know it was possible for his hair to get even more spiky when he got angry.

Ah yes, such good times.

Not today though. Today you were already exhausted enough from training classes and definitely not in the mood to keep a conversation (if you can call it that) with spiky boy. So when he had asked a basic question about if you had seen Kirishima leaving the trainings hall, you had just ignored him and continued your way to the dorms.

And as always, getting ignored didn't sit well with him so he had decided it was a good idea to just step in front of you and block your way. He had looked pissed- at this point you think everyone can agree that that's just his usual expression- and exhausted. Sweat was running down his face and neck.

(Aizawa sensei was today especially hard on class 3A.

Making the whole class train to the point in which some of you had to help each other to stand in the end. He had made sure that all of your energy was used up so you wouldn't cause a ruckus on the weekend.

His words. Not yours. )

 

So, instead of answering him again, you had tried to by pass him. But you don't hate Katsuki Bakugou for no reason. And apparently he was happy to show you the reason; by not allowing you to take another step, blocking your way yet again. So you did the first and only thing coming into your mind. You had hissed at him.

Like a cat. With teeth and all.

And by looking into those perplexed rubin red eyes of his you know, it was a good idea.

"The fuck is wrong with you? You think you're a fucking cat or something?" He asks, amusement clearly over writing the previous surprised expression on his face. He makes fun of you.

And that doesn't sit well with you. So you give him a bittersweet answer.

"I don't know, but i sure as hell have the sudden urge to scratch that stupid face of yours if you don't let me pass."

Deciding that you definitely do not have the energy to argue with him any further you prepare to take another side step. But his next words make you halt.

"You do look like a scratcher though."

 

Huh?

 

You look up to him with a puzzled expression. His face doesn't give away his emotions. He just looks you dead in the eye. And this means a lot. Katsuki Bakugou who most of the time wears his thoughts on his face looks inexplicable.

 

What was that supposed to mean?

But hell if you let him have the last word. So you answer without thinking, smiling overly sweet.

"Oh, i sure am." 

He arches a brow and opens his mouth slightly. His eyes suddenly take a dark tone. And again, you can not tell what his expression is supposed to mean.

You are probably more exhausted than you thought.

"Baku-bro! Here you are!"

You turn around to see Kirishima jogging your way. Yes, jogging. This boy had so much energy it was ridiculous at this point.

You wave at him and he gives you a genuine big smile, catching up to you two. Now that Katsuki has his answer you turn around to tell him right that. You blink in surprise when you see him already 10 meters away, opening the door to the dorms.

"Hurry up shitty-hair. I don't have all damn day.", he shouts over his shoulder and enters, without waiting for the red haired boy.

Kirishima pats your shoulder as a goodbye before jogging after spiky boy.

You stand there, shoulders sinking you realize this stupid little dialogue with Katsuki had taken even more energy from you. And why do you feel like he had gained the upper hand in this idiotic conversation?!

You sigh overly dramatic and start walking towards the dorms. You are in serious need of a shower. 

And for some inexplicable reason you can't forget those rubin red eyes, turning into a dark tone for the rest of the weekend.

[sweeethinny]

#4 in fluff in the prompt list for hinny :D

Thank you anon! i hope you like it! <3

just because I LOVE Harry being a teenager completely in love with Ginny and please, let's ignore their true ages and say that either Harry is younger, or Ginny older, or even being a year apart they have some classes together. Imagine what you want.

#4  “I actually wanted to get your number…”

PROMPT LIST 

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

She was so beautiful.

Harry couldn't even concentrate on the class with her nearby, sitting just two chairs in front of him and his right, holding her face with her left hand and looking completely bored with the subject that Professor Beans was talking about.

Her hair was falling to the side like lava from a volcano, shining against the sunlight that came in through the windows and looking golden in some parts, and in others, orange and red. Her freckles were the most beautiful thing in the world, spread across her pink cheeks, arms and some even went down her chest and disappeared into the neckline of her white T-shirt. And the eyes… oh, those caramel and chocolate eyes, always so shiny that Harry sometimes thought they might be precious stones.

She was gorgeous.

Ginny started to write something at the bottom of the notebook sheet, her delicate, ringed hand drumming beside the notebook, looking anxious to get the message out soon. Then, tearing the paper, she crumpled it and passed it to Luna, a few chairs in front.

Harry saw her bite her lips with laughter when the blonde got scared of the paper hitting the back of her neck, and he thought there was nothing more beautiful than her laughing ... Ginny was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Luna wrote back and hurled it at her, Beans didn't even notice the movement, with his back to the class writing something on the board, oblivious to all the students dying of boredom. Ginny laughed softly, and before Harry could predict it, she looked over her shoulder at him, still laughing.

His cheeks caught fire! He caught fire! Ginny had caught him staring at her like a complete lunatic! She would realize that he was in love with her since they were in kindergarten and she cut Pansy's hair because the girl stole her doll.

She was going to punch him in the face!

Harry quickly turned to the History notebook in front of him, feeling like a total idiot, and started writing down everything Beans was saying, not wanting to look up at all.

His sister had already said that girls hate to be stared at, and now, Ginny would hate him! And he didn't even have a chance to ask her to the Ball... Who does he want to fool? He would die before he managed to call her to the Ball without being completely embarrassed and humiliating himself in front of her.

Ginny was so beautiful. And so kind. Harry knew that she would not humiliate him, she would pull him aside and politely say that she already had another partner. A huge player from the last year who would crush Harry without he even knowing where the first punch came from.

He should try his luck with Susan.

When class was finally over, Harry ran out of the room like a little girl in a panic, throwing books in the school locker anyway and entering the cafeteria that was already filled with conversation and people everywhere, and sitting as far away from all possible.

He just wanted to be alone, listen to his music and beat himself up for being a passionate idiot who keeps staring at women like crazy.

Maybe he would die alone, after all. Alone and virgin.

‘’Hey there’’ The voice startled him, making him almost drop his cell phone and the piece of pie his mother had made for him.

Ginny Weasley was in front of him ... Ginny Weasley.

''Erm… hi.'' Harry said, a little nervous about her presence - little is an understatement - and trying to look behind her and see if any of her popular friends were filming it or laughing at the situation, but the cafeteria was in your normal mess.

‘’Can I sit down?’’ She smiled at him, not showing her teeth, but still a lovely smile that made his stomach churn.

‘’Sure, sure.’’ He fixed his glasses on his face and ran his hand through his hair, even though he knew he wouldn’t change in the usual messy look. He needed to vent that anxiety.

‘’So… Harry, right?’’ Ginny sat down, her hair flaming behind her shoulders, and those sweet eyes seeming to analyze every move he made.

''Yes. Myself.’’ Harry wanted to roll his eyes at himself. ‘’Ginny?’’ He tried, not wanting to look like he was crazier than before.

‘’That's what they say.’’ She smiled, this time showing her teeth. ‘’Look, I could come here and make up some shitty talk..’’ It was now, Harry thought, she would dump him. Harry was ready to just stick his head in a hole and never leave. ‘’But, I don’t like to mess around.’’ She crossed her arms over the table, never taking her eyes off him. ‘’I actually wanted to get your number… and know if you want to be my date at the ball.’’

The world stopped.

It was a joke, right? Ginny Weasley, the most beautiful girl... was she really looking for his number? And calling him to the Ball?!

‘’Er…’’ Harry froze, completely lost and not knowing what to say, staring at the girl in front of him who looked much more confident than he thought someone was capable of at 14.

‘’I think you’re beautiful, and I saw how you’re looking at me ... so?’’

Answer her! Answer!!!

‘’It would be… perfect.’’ He could barely think straight and articulate the words.

''Great. You can write your number here.’’ Ginny reached out a handful of rings and put her palm up. ‘’I have a pen.’’ She showed in her other hand, which she was holding a black pen that Harry hadn’t even noticed existed.

‘’Ok.’’ Harry tried not to shake too much while writing the numbers on her soft hand. ‘’Er… sorry to stare at you .. I don’t usually stare at anyone, I respect people, but today, I don’t know, today-- ’’

‘’ --Harry, I’m also staring at you. Nothing to worry about.’’ She took her hand away when he was done, smiling from ear to ear.

‘’This is not a joke… is it?’’ Ginny couldn’t be so mean, could she?

‘’No!’’ She made a face, raising her eyebrow then and approaching him as if to tell a secret. ''I was waiting for you to take the first step, but I hate to wait.'' Ginny blinked, causing all of Harry's organs to fall out of place. ‘’So… how’s your day going?’’ She asked, as if she hadn’t finished rock his world completely. As if she were not the most beautiful girl and had just asked him out.

Ginny Weasley was beautiful and would end with his life. Without a doubt.

''Fucking great. And yours?’’ Harry replied. ‘’Would you like some pie?’’

He couldn't care less.

[story-thief]

MHA/BNHA X READER (SHRUNK): CHAPTER 2 - Tiny Kirishima x Y/N.

Info--------------------

Y/N- Age: 16, Hight: 5'5", Gender: female, Quirk: Mind Reading, Class: 1-A

AU- None, Domestic fluff

Relationship background: You and Eijiro have been dating for quite some time now and are extremely close. ___________________________

It was early in the morning and Eijiro Kirishima had decided to go for a short walk before school started. UA was still asleep or just waking up, along with the majority of the city at that time. The red-headed boy couldn't help but hum to himself softly as he wandered the plot around the high school dorms. He liked nature far more than the city, though he loved both, and as such, he liked to take a short lap around the campus before starting his day.

The grass padded gently underfoot as he neared the end of his stroll, and that's when something caught his eye. It was a patch of bright blue and purple flowers covered in a very curious design, Kirishima had never seen anything like them. "Woah!!" He chimed excitedly as he squatted down to give them a closer inspection. The flowers were very extravagant despite their small size, looking as if the worlds most talented and skilled artist had done each one by hand. Seeing them made him think of his girlfriend, (Y/N)!

Kirishima blushed lightly as she came to mind, he'd have to show these to her after school, he was sure she'd love them!!!

Ecstatically, he reached down and gently picked a few, smelling them. They were sweet like fresh fruit. Upon reaching the pavement of the dorm's grounds he soaked in a little more of the morning's crisp atmosphere. As he took a deep breath he was quickly overcome with a strong sensation of vertigo. Stumbling lightly he shook his head briskly, blinking rapidly, surprised by the sudden tiredness. "What the-??" He coughed. What was that!? His body was probably still trying to get up and going, he'd be fine, he thought as he shook it off, flowers still in hand as he marched toward the building doors.

As he walked in, the teen boy felt another strong wave of dizziness and fatigue hit him hard. Geez, why'd he feel so out of sorts all of the sudden he was fine though, right?! Kirishima ignored the sudden change and attempted to keep walking, successfully making it up the stairs and to his room.

Opening the door, he felt unsteady on his feet. The red head made his way over to his bed where he plopped down to stop for a quick breather. What was going on??! Did he just not get enough sleep and it was only just now getting to him??? Gripping his head in his hands, he glanced over at his clock to see how much time he had. It was only 7:20am, he could probably squeeze in another forty-five minutes to an hour with plenty of time to get ready.

Eijiro flopped backwards onto his bed, eye lids getting heavier and heavier till eventually the world went dark.

****

(Y/N) chirped and talked excitedly with Tsue and Uraraka before class started. It was about five minutes or so till it was time, and it was only then that she realized that Eijiro was no where to be found. "Hey Bakugo!" She called to the grumpy blond who only turned around in his chair to glare back at her. "Have you seen Eijiro at all today??" The young girl asked him, to which he responded curtly, "Tch- How should I know??? The dumb idiot probably missed his stupid alarm." He grumbled, turning away from her to stare straightforward.

(Y/N) furrowed her brows, weird.... he didn't typically cut it this close...something must be wrong. She worried as concern flashed her features. "hmm, I'll be right back!!" She called as she dashed out the door, Iida's protests could be heard as she jogged off.

Quickly pulling herself along, she moved from the school to the dorms; she then made her way to the boy's dorm halls. She swiftly and easily found Kiri's door, her quirk picking up on his brainwaves which were surprisingly relaxed and passive for how outgoing and high energy he was.

Easing his door open, (Y/N) was met by a dark, empty room. Wait- where was he?? "Eijie...????" She called softly, slowly walking in. "Eijiroooooo~~???" She whispered quietly before flicking on the lights.

The room was indeed empty and tidy with the exception of his clothes strewn lazily across his bed. “Weird... where’d he go?!” She wondered aloud, walking further into the room. She could sense him near by, so where was he??? “KIRISHIMA!” She called one last time, causing something to stir.

Motion caught Atashame’s eye and she looked down at the clothes on the bed to see a tiny lump the size of a rat or a mouse moving under the shirt. “WHAT THE-?!”

****

Kirishima slept peacefully in what felt like a large warm mass of blankets when something woke him. “KIRISHIMA!!!!!” He heard a familiar voice call loudly, startling him awake.

As he opened his eyes and looked around he couldn’t quite make out where he was. All he could see was-.... red cloth? He squirmed around trying to find the opening to whatever or wherever he was. “WHAT THE-?!” He heard the same voice again, only now he was able to recognize who it belonged to. “(Y/N)?!” He asked looking around, still confused as to where on earth he was.

”K-KIRISHIMA?!” He heard her exclaim, “Yeah! Where are you?! Where am I?!” He replied, still crawling through the endless ocean of fabrics. “I-Is that really you?!” She asked again, only confusing him more, why’d she sound so confused, what was going on, AND WHERE ON THIS BLASTED EARTH WAS HE?!

”Yes it’s me!!! (Y/N), what’s going on?!” He yelled, growing weary. Suddenly the fabric opened just enough to pop out his head.

****

(Y/N) watched in absolute disbelief as the lump crawled around confusedly. It sounded as if it were Eijiro, but how in the galaxy would he have gotten that small??! She couldn’t wait any longer....

She tentatively reached out and opened the shirt from the neck collar, tossing it back a little, still nervous of what she might find. As the shirt fell back, a tiny head with frazzled, staticky red hair popped out.

What?

The girl was stunned, IT REALLY WAS HIM!!!! AND HE WAS NO BIGGER THAN AN IPHONE!

His little head looked around, blinking in the bright light. “(Y/N)??” He asked again still trying to make out what all he was looking at, his complete size difference making everything seem so foreign.

Things finally registered and (Y/N) finally came to grip that this was indeed, reality. “YOURE SO SMALL!!!!” She cried. Eijiro winced at the loud noise, eyes going wide as he worked to look at her, “WOAH!!! YOURE HUGE!!!” He squeaked back, his voice only slightly softer and higher than normal.

(Y/N) shook her head briskly, “NO, YOU SHRUNK!!!” She exclaimed, gesturing to the rest of the room. Kirishima sat up and looked around, the shirt still draped across him. “WH- YOURE RIGHT?!” He exclaimed, falling back over from the sheer surprise.

(Y/N) reached her hand out in an offering for him to climb on before realizing that-... his clothes were on the bed..... and he was inside of them... which would naturally mean-

“WAIT!!! YOURE WEARING CLOTHES RIGHT?!” She yelled, turning bright red. The little man moved to cover his ears again at her loud yelling before processing what she said. With wide eyes, he quickly looked down at himself which was still covered by the shirt, to see that he was, indeed, naked. “Uh- No not really!!” He admitted, wrapping the shirt tighter around himself, a rose color tinting his cheeks. He looked up at her sheepishly, “Y-you don’t happen to have any kind of tiny clothing... do you?” He asked in embarrassment.

“No, I don- WAIT!!! I MIGHT!!!!” She exclaimed running out of the room, leaving the little red head on the bed.

****

Aaaaaaaaaand she was gone. Kirishima was left in his room by himself. He stood and began walking around on the mattress, still trying to get a gage at both his current hight and at the reality of the situation. This was a dream right?? What happened?/ He was fine this morning!! As he did, he heard footsteps returning. "CRUD!-" He then dove for the cover of his shirt, his head poking out, just as (Y/N) had left him.

He watched the giantess come skipping in, "Tah-dah!!!!" She exclaimed cheerfully, holding up a doll's outfit. The was a red T-shirt and ripped shorts, along with black leggings that had been cut to create makeshift boxers. Eijiro lit up, surprised she even had the stuff! "Its so manly!!!" he exclaimed happily. "Here!! I'll uh- heh, I'll give you a moment of privacy...." She chuckles, tossing him the clothes and turning around.

The tiny bean of a child takes them gratefully and ducks back under his original clothes to change. He soon comes out fully dressed,  toothy smile and all. "This is awesome!!" He laughs, "O-Oh!! Im decent, you can look now!!" He tells her, signaling her that it was safe.

She turned around and was met by the most gracious darn adorable thing she had ever seen in her life. "AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!" She couldn't help but squeal at the precious sight. "You're so tiny and cute!!!" (Y/N) giggled hysterically. Eijiro blushed lightly at her reaction. "Hey!!"

****

What (Y/N) saw before her was truly an image from heaven. There he stood, proud and small, dressed in the clothes her dolls had been wearing previously, hair a fluffy, wacky, tussled mess, sharp, sharky smile shining a bright glow, and best of all, He was so tiny, he could easily fit on her hand, shoulder, pocket, you name it!!! It was simply too much adorableness for her and she could no longer help herself.

She eagerly held out her hands as if asking his permission, to which she was granted as he carefully climbed on, wrapping his minuscule hands around her thumb as she lifted him. "You're so stincon lincon cuuuuuuuuuteeeee~~~~" She giggled, looking him up and down as he sat cross legged on her palm. He blushed more, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it so much!" He laughed. "How did this happen?!" you ask, sitting on his bed where he once stood.

"I- I don't know.... I felt sick at one point so i decided to lie down and get some more rest and well- I only woke up when you came in and I was already small!!" He explained. "Huh-.... Well... you know, Recovery Girl might- OH NO WE'RE LATE FOR CLASS!!!" She cried, standing quickly and knocking him over as he gripped onto her hand for dear life. "Woah!!" He cried, startled by all the sudden movement. "Oh no, I'm so sorry!!" She apologized, “I keep forgetting....” she admitted embarrassedly.

The tiny boy shakily sat up, giving her the same determined smile as his little body quivered from the adrenaline shock. “Don’t worry about me!” He exclaimed hardening himself in her hand as he grinned up at her. The giantess smiled back though she was still very apologetic. "I should still be more careful though, i'm just glad you're alright." She told him with a relieved sigh.

"Let's go see Recovery Girl about this first..." (Y/N) suggested, him only nodding in response. "Here.. Uh..." The girl then began looking herself up and down, trying to find a suitable spot to place him. Kirishima quickly caught on, "I can just ride on your shoulder!!!" He suggested, which she silently hoped he would. "Sure!!" (Y/N) chimed.

She tried the awkward motion of keeping her palm facing up while trying to make it easier for him to get to her shoulder. In short, he almost fell.

Once he was comfortably standing onto her shoulder they headed for the infirmary. "I really hope this can be fixed...." (Y/N) half muttered, slight worry crossing her features. The tiny shark on her shoulders only nodded as she opened the door and walked inside.

The sweet, short old woman known as Recovery Girl was tiding up the place when they came in, possibly after a different patient. "Oh!! Hello (L/N)!" She greeted, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?? What's wrong!!" She asked, apparently not noticing Kirishima's current state.

”I’m fine thanks! Um, I’m actually worried about this little guy....” She chuckled, turning her shoulder more toward the old woman, showing off her minuscule classmate. “Oh!!!” She cried, startled to see him like that. “What ever happened??” She asked the two. “We don’t know.....” “I just woke up like this...” they both commented.

Recovery girl thought for a bit, “Well what did you do in the last bit of time before it happened???” She asked, (Y/N) turning to look at Eijiro best she could whilst he thought. “Well, when I first woke up this morning, I was normal sized and I went for a walk around the campus grounds...” he recounted, “then when I came back to the dorms I suddenly got really dizzy and nauseous.” He finished.

The old woman placed a hand on her chin, “hmmm was there anything out of the ordinary or slightly different as opposed to other days??” She asked, making him think for a minute.

”Not that I remember- Wait!- I think, YES! I remember near the end of my walk there were these flowers!! I’ve never seen them before!” He exclaimed quickly, earning an interested look from Recovery Girl. “Were they blue and purple with little white designs?!” She asks, “YES THEY WERE HOW'D YOU KNOW!?!” “Wait have you dealt with them before?” (Y/N) asked after Kirishima.

The little woman let out a long sigh, “Yes I have, they’re a nuisance those things...” she grumbled, “Eating or inhaling them have the same effect, only eating will cause it to last longer,...” She explained. “And as I’m sure you’ve noticed so far, they make you shrink. The effects will ware off after a little more or less than 24 hours, depending on how much of it you took in, otherwise it can’t be helped.” The woman finished illuminating the situation for them, “I’ll send someone out to exterminate them in a bit.” She says, “For now I believe you two have classes to be attending.” She says, handing them a pass that explains where they’ve been, most likely for Aizawa Sensei. “Oh- ok then!! Thank you!!” They both called as she shooed them out the door.

“Looks like you’ll be like this for the rest of the day!” (Y/N) comments to him as they walk to their home classroom. Kirishima, still smiling ear to ear just shrugs, “I’m honestly excited about it!! Sounds like I’ll be fine, so I think this could be pretty fun!” He tells her to which she snickers, opening the class door. “Heyo! were back!”

****

Being small wasn’t all that bad! Eijiro got to sit on his girlfriend’s shoulder and desk throughout all the classes and while he didn’t admit this out loud, not having to take notes was actually kinda nice!!! And when lunch rolled around, Lunch Rush even made him a tiny dish just for himself!

Yet despite all this, Hero training classes for that day were called off, much to the little rock’s disappointment, leaving the two of them the entire afternoon.....

“So what do you wanna go do??” Eijiro asked as they flopped on the couches of the common room, little Kiri sprawled on her stomach. (Y/N) shrugged, “Well, before you shrunk I had a date planned for today...” She half asks, looking down at him with a soft smile. Kirishima perked up immediately, “REALLY?! WELL LETS GO!! WHO’S TO SAY WE CANT STILL HAVE FUN!?!?” He yells enthusiastically, standing now as he smashes his little baby fists together. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh, knocking him off his feet.

Gracious she was beautiful.

And the size difference only seemed to emphasize everything amazing about her despite how people said it typically brought out every imperfection.... maybe that’s what he liked so much about her, that both he and she were so different yet similar, they completed each other in so many ways, every quirk and goofy thing about her just seemed so amazing to him.

”Eijie??”

Oops!! He must’ve gotten lost in thought!!

”Oh yeah!! Sorry, I spaced off for a minute!” He laughed with a blush, scratching the back of his neck. (Y/N)'s face lit up with a smile, “It’s ok!! Just noticed you seemed somewhere else!” She grinned, sitting up some.

As she offered her hand, the little red head climbed on, beaming up at her. "So where are we going!?" He asked excitedly. "I just guess you'll have to see!!" She teased, slipping her shoes on and jogging out the door with him still on her shoulder, using her ear as support and not fall.

After some nice small talk about random things and the events of the day, they soon arrived at the train station. "Come ooooonnnnnn you've gotta tell me!!! We're going on the train, man!!" The little man begged. "Nooo, That ruins the surprise!!" She responded, determined not to tell, just as much as he was to find out.

Coming to a bench, (Y/N) stopped to sit down and wait for their ride. As they did two little girls and their mother sat beside them.

Kirishima pouted on (Y/N)'s shoulder, trying to plot on how to get her to reveal their destination. As he did it was only out the corner of his eye that he saw a giant hand reaching for him. As he moved to react it wrapped its fingers around his upper half and face. “ACK-?!” He let out a muffled cry as he kicked and pushed at the hand gripping him.

****

(Y/N) was preoccupied looking up details about her and Eijiro’s date on her phone, which she held next to her hip on the opposite side of Kirishima so he couldn’t see. So much so that she didn’t even notice when the two little girls plucked him up and began playing with him excitedly like they would a doll.

“Alright Eijiro!!!” She chimes, turning off her phone and turing her head expecting to see him on her shoulder only to see a couple of girls practically torturing the poor little guy. “Oh my heavens!!!! Um, you need to give me him back!!!” She told them, reaching for her boyfriend. “No!” One cried, holding him out and away from (Y/N). “Excuse me, Madam???” She panicked and got the attention of the woman who seemed to be absorbed in something on her own device. The woman startled when (Y/N) rapidly tapped her shoulder, “Hi!!! Yeah- um that’s mine and your little girls seem to not want to give it back!!!” She quickly told, terrified they might smother him.

Their mother reacted swiftly, “Lina, Haru!!!” She scolded, “If that’s not yours then you need to give it back!” She chided.

The girls looked down each and apologized, handing the limp little form back to (Y/N). “Thank you!” She said quickly, cupping him tenderly in her hands as he gasped for breath the moment the tiny fingers released.

The mother startled upon seeing that Kirishima was alive and not some other little doll of sorts. “Oh dear me!!!!” She cried, “Is that thing alive?!” She asked in disbelief.

(Y/N) didn’t answer, too occupied in making sure her shrunken boyfriend was alright. “Kiri are you ok?!” She cried, subconsciously holding her breath as he sucked in every possible one he could.

The tiny shark gave a weak smile and a thumbs up, still coughing and choking on each breath.

“I am so sorry!!!!” The mother apologized again, still absolutely dumbfounded. “It’s ok!” Eijiro croaked, “Dont worry about it, I’m fine!!” He added, trying his best to put the giantesses about him at ease.

The little girls just stayed quiet, looking terribly sorry, but too shy and ashamed to say anything.

It was then that their train arrived, quite busily too. “I think he’ll be ok, it my fault for not paying better attention....” (Y/N) reassures, supporting the shakey tiny in her hands as she got up and began heading for the train. “Oh my heavens!!! Are you ok?!” She asked again once they were out of earshot. Eijiro did actually seem alright now and he nodded, “Yeah! Just scared me, I wasn’t expecting that!” He says cheerily despite the fact that his body is still clearly vibrating. “Yeah me neither, and honestly I’m kinda worried about being on here....” (Y/N) admitted as they climbed onto the train and began looking for a seat. “Do you have anywhere safe you’d feel comfortable letting me sit??” Eijiro asked, cocking his little head to the side.

(Y/N) looked herself up and down, “Would you be ok in a pocket??” She asked him, using her thumb of her other hand to pull open one of her front pockets on her pants.

Kirishima lit up and smiled, “Yeah!! I don’t mind that!!!” He chirped. She smiled warmly at this, lowering her hand so he could climb in. She watched with slight amusement as he awkwardly tried to slip inside, swinging one leg, then the other, and completely disappearing from sight as she could feel him drop down inside.

****

As Eijiro slipped into the pocket he wasn’t honestly expecting such deep pockets, like who needs pockets this big?!

Luckily the pocket was loose and he was able to wiggle around, trying to find how to best be comfortable. It took a while but the mini man finally settled. It was like a giant warm cocoon of blankets!! Enough so.... that.... he began... to......... drift....... off~~.....

"Hey! Kiri!!" Kirishima awoke to something very large nudging his side softly, "Hmm?! Huh???"  He muttered, blinking in confusion as he tried to figure out where he was. He found himself in a warm, dark, and cushioned room that swayed steadily back and forth. And he quite frankly didn't remember entering it... "Eijiro!!" (Y/N)'s voice broke his thoughts, and that's when realization struck him. He had fallen asleep in his girlfriend's pocket on the train. "What??" He asked, squirming to peek his head out the pocket and up at her.

She giggled upon seeing his fluffy little head emerge. "Did you seriously fall asleep??" She laughed, walking through the station as she climbed off the train. "Maybe?" He grinned back up at her, "Wait, wait, give me your hand!!" He cheered, already getting out of the pocket, "Woah!! Geez little dude, are you trying to fall and get crushed!?" The young girl exclaimed, stumbling slightly as she tried to catch him.

Kirishima ignored her question and wasted no time in climbing her arm, pulling himself up to her shoulder. "SO WHERE ARE WE HEADED!?" He eagerly bounced, ecstatic to finally be getting to see what she had in store. (Y/N) couldn't help but grin at his enthusiasm.

(Y/N) walked out of the station and down the street, people they passed giving shocked, startled and amazed looks at the enthusiastic little bean that bounced relentlessly on his girlfriend’s shoulder.

As the building came to view, Kirishima let out a gasp. “NO WAY!!!” He cried, his sharky little smile growing wider than his face could handle.

(Y/N) lost herself in laughter over his reaction, the place she had taken him was a new restaurant. It had only been open a week and it already had some of the highest ratings in the area. And best of all, they were famous for their numerous meat dishes. Kirishima had been talking about wanting to go ever since it was announced that one would be built here.

”If you like it enough, we can always come back when your bigger and can eat more!!” She told him, to which he eagerly nodded.

She pressed the door open and walked in. They were then seated at a table for one, in an outside area underneath a covering. “Wow!! This is actually really nice!!” (Y/N) chirped, Kirishima waddling carefully down her arm to sit on the table before slipping and sliding the rest of the way, which he quickly shook off, adding his own excited comment, "I know right!?" He cried, "I've been looking forward to this for a long time!!" He yelled, absolutely hyped, per usual.

Not too long after they had sat down a waiter came over to take their order. "Good evening ma'am, my name is Akio!! I'll be your server tonight!!!" he hummed, giving her a charming smile. Kirishima silently grew jealous, frustrated that his lack of size made him invisible, and therefore his girlfriend a target for this young fellow. (Y/N) on the other hand seemed to pay it no mind, "Ah!! Thank you!!" She responded politely as she would under any occasion, yet it only grew the miniature man's jealousy.

"Are you ready to order or do you need a little longer??" He asked, still very clearly into her. "I think we'll wait a little longer!! For now could I get a water??" she asked. Akio gave her a confused blink when she said 'we' but shook it off, "of course!!" he chimed, moving to walk off before (Y/N) glanced down, "What do you want to drink??" She asked Kirishima, confusing the waiter even further, "I'm sorry me-??" he turned around, seeing that she was not looking at him, but down by her folded arms that rested on the table. And there his eyes met the tiny crimson ones of Eijiro, who gave him a quick look before returning to his bright and happy demeanor and answered the giantess. "Wanna just share a strawberry lemonade?!" he chimed, to which the girl seemed to perk up at, "Oooo!! Actually that sounds great!!" she beamed, turning to face Akio, who was currently in a state of shock.

"I- He- He's alive!?" The server finally sputtered, "And so small!!! How?!" the man couldn't believe what he was looking at, causing (Y/N) to scratch the back of her head, "Right, I forgot that this would still startle people,... I feel bad I've kinda gotten used to you like this..." She laughed to Eijiro who smiled back, "I know right?? Anyways, its a long story!!" He told the waiter who remained starstruck. The man nodded nonetheless, making his way off to go retrieve their drinks.

As soon as he left Kirishima felt better, he didn't like the look he was giving her, but now that the waiter knew the young girl wasn't alone he'd most likely lay off. "So what's the menu say?!" He asked merrily, rubbing his little hands together. (Y/N) couldn't help but giggle as he hopped onto the menu where she was trying to read, already looking at the kabobs. "OOOOO!!!!" He gasped at a specific option that he was definitely getting! It was an assorted kabob of fish, shrimp, beef, pork, and chicken, some vegetables like tomato, cabbage, and beets. "I know what Im gonna eat!!" He cheered hugrily, mouth watering madly. "What about you??" He asked, his smile like a tiny sun glaring up at her. "Well, I think i'll figure it out once I can see what's there!!" She teased, gently grabbing the back cuff of his shirt between her two fingers and setting him down, off the menu. "Sorry!" He sheepishly chuckled, wriggling briefly at first but going limp when he saw she was going to set him back down. She then couldn't resist the urge to ruffle his soft hair with her index finger. "Hey!! You know that's hard to fix!!!!" He whined at the motion, gently pushing her finger away with his tiny hands. (Y/N) just grinned wider, suppressing a giggle.

"I'll probably just get a Katsudon!!!" she told him as their waiter was returning with the drink. He brought a little shot glass that was filled with some of the drink. (Y/N) thanked him before telling him their orders. they agreed that Kirishima would get the meal normal sized and they'd just take whatever he didn't eat to go. Soon they were enjoying some of the best food they had ever had.

Surprisingly Kirishima had managed to eat an entire kabob, but given the fact that he was a human vacuum, it didn't startle her too much.

After dinner they went for a walk, making their way down the streets of the area, more wandering about rather than having a set goal in mind. "Today's been really crazy..." The hero in training commented with a laugh as she waltzed one of the area's public park walkways with her boyfriend perched behind her ear. He liked the spot as it was more secure than just sitting on her shoulder and he got to mess with her hair. "But very manly!!" He added, braiding a couple strands. "Yeah!! It has!!" She agreed as they made their way back to the station. As they walked, (Y/N) spotted an ice cream cart. "Ooo!! Hey, wanna get a quick treat before we head back to the dorms?!" She asked him, feeling as he quickly stood, gripping onto some of her hair for balance.

"YES!" "OW,OW,OW,OW,OW!! KIRI THAT HURTS!!" "Agh-!! S-Sorry!!" he quickly apologized, letting go, therefore losing his balance and quickly falling. "Woah!!" "Eijiro!!!" Atashame caught him before he hit the pavement, "Jeez...." She muttered, taking a slow breath after the heart attack she had just received. "Y-You ok?!" She asked, pressing a hand to her chest as if to calm her heart beat and breathing. He just nodded, giving her another shaky smile like before. "Well I'm just glad you're alright..." She sighed before lifting him up to her face and planting a kiss on his small, soft head. He blushed and smiled radiantly as she pulled away, leaning up to return the gesture on her large nose, causing her heart to flutter. He was just so sweet and precious, and huggable, and squishy, and soft, and adorable, and fluffy, and ahhhhhhhh~~~~  (Y/N) couldn't help but think to herself, subconsciously squealing and hugging him to her cheek, lost in her own thoughts. "Ack- don't crush me!!" Kirishima laughed as he hugged her back.

She finally pulled away, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself!!" her tiny boyfriend grinned mischievously before jumping from her hand to sit on her nose and better hug her face. "Hey, I wasn't done hugging you!!" he half pouted, earning another soft giggly squeal from his giant girlfriend. "Ok, now Im satisfied!! You give very manly face hugs." He declared proudly, grabbing the hair atop her head to pull himself up her face. "Ow! Eijiro I just told you that hurts!!" She flinched, hovering her hands just below him as if for him to jump down but he ignored her, eventually climbing up and onto her head where he sat proudly. "Sorry, but I really wanted to try siting here!!" He told her as she could only smile at his silly antics.

"Alright what flavor?!" She asked him as she walked over to the cart. "hmmm.... How about fudge and vanilla!" He suggested, "Really?? Just fudge and vanilla??" She laughed, "Yeah!! Its a classic!!" He complained back, slightly put out by her silent judgement. "ok, ok, that's a good point, I will admit." She gave in as they came up on the cart.

"Could I get a soft serve mix of fudge and vanilla??" (Y/N) asked the man as he served them up in a small paper cup. He nodded and handed her the soft frozen treat, not really noticing the tiny man on her head at first before taking a double take as the two walked off to find a park bench to sit on.

They soon came up on a decent bench, and (Y/N) sat down carefully as to not knock the itty bitty shark off her head. "Alright!" She grinned eagerly, "Ready??" She asked him, feeling the pitter patter of tiny hands and feet crawling toward the front of her head. "HECK YEAH!!!" He cheered, just as excited, if not then more. "Catch!!!!" He yelled taking yet his third leap of faith. "DUDE!!! STOP JUMPING!!!" she cried in surprise as his tiny little form went hurdling from above yet again.

Kirishima just laughed wildly as the soft, warm cushion of his beloved girlfriend's delicate hands caught him, cupping up around him protectively. "No more. I revoke your rights!! You keep giving me heart attacks!!!" (Y/N) scolded, completely cupping her hands around his tiny warm body. "Wha-!? Hey!!!" He squawked, trying to press against her hands in retaliation, "You can't do that!!" He protested, squirming around trying various different ways to wiggle his way out of her grasp. "Well I just did!!" She quickly shot back before she was startled by something warm and wet running itself across her fingers. "A- ARE YOU LICKING ME!?" She asked in loud disbelief, hands flinching for a brief moment to lessen her grip on the tiny man-child who stopped briefly as a chorus of tiny, mischievous giggles came muffled from her cupped hands. "SO UNCOOL!!" She added before a sharp needle-like pricking registered with her. "DID YOU JUST BITE ME!?" She cried again, this time hesitating in her grasp just enough for him to poke his head and arms out. He was a laughing mess.

Much like a worm he continued to wriggle through her fingers. "Oh no you don't Mr!!!" She scoffed, reaching a second hand to grab him, just his arms and the topmost parts of his fluffy red hair poking out of the top of her fist, just his legs kicking wildly as he refused to yield. "Ha! Gatcha!!!" (Y/N) spoke too soon when he began to plant his feet against the base of her fist and he slide out of her hand, slipping out of his shirt too in the process.

And now she had a tiny, shirtless boyfriend running across her lap and the park bench as she tried desperately to stop him.

Oh brother.

"Kirishimaaaa~~~" The girl whined, grabbing him by the ankle and quickly bringing him up to be eye level with her as she glared at him. "What do you have to say for yourself??" She asked as he tried desperately to atop laughing, "You're beautiful and that was awesome!!!" He finally answered, tears running up his face from laughing so hard and being held upside down by his foot. (Y/N) couldn't stay even remotely put out if she wanted too and soon she too was laughing as she set him back down on her knee, planting a loving kiss on his head again. "So are we gonna eat this or are we just gonna let it melt??" She finally inquired, still grinning at him as he caught his breath.

Smiling his wide, toothy smile, he finally nodded in response. "Yes!!" He added a vocal reply, still quite excited from their little wrestling thing. "You wanna try it first??" She asked, scooping a small amount of the frozen dessert out of the cup. Kirishima nodded, reaching for the large spoon, leaning to take a bite off of it before (Y/N) moved the spoon forward so he'd be able to reach better from where he was. And so, The tiny red head got a face full of cream.

"OOP-" (Y/N) exclaimed as she accidentally shoved the sweet into his face. Kirishima popped is head out of the large spoonful, taking a moment to process what had just happened. "PPFFFFTttttttt-!!" The girl was soon lost in laughter over the sight of his stuned face completely slathered in gelato. "Um, I think you have a little something-" She tried to manage through her laughs.

Eijiro finally grinned, starting to laugh with her, "Maybe I should hold the spoon." He told her, wiping the ice cream from his face and onto his hands, and then into his mouth. "Its good though!" He piped up again through a full mouth. (Y/N) finally calmed herself, grabbing a napkin that they had also received from the vendor. "Here let me help." She offered, using the paper cloth to gently wipe and clean his face. "Better?" "Yeah thanks man!"

(Y/N) Then tucked away the napkin and they were able to enjoy the rest of the treat, taking turns taking bites, Kirishima at one point or another got his revenge, slapping a dollop of the treat onto her face. "Eijiro!" She exclaimed as he chuckled. The rest of the walk went nicely after they were able to sufficiently clean sticky hands.

After another warm pocket ride on the train, they walked to the dorms, both happy but tired from the long day. It was late when they got back as well, meaning it was dark and they were both feeling sleepy. Walking into the dorm building, they were met by friends who were eager to hear about the date, tease, and poke fun at the couple.

"Hey Eijiro?? Do you want me to just drop you off in your room??" (Y/N) asked after they were away from the others. Her minuscule boyfriend bit his lip seeming unsure. "Well... I don't really want to be alone while I'm this size..." He admitted, "Could-... Could i maybe stay with you for the night??" He asked her sheepishly, a bright pink glow lighting his features like a lantern. His girlfriend could only smile, her heart swelling in her chest, "Of course Baby!" She comforted, and began heading back to her room.

After opening the door, (Y/N) very gently set the little man down on her bed before grabbing a pair of folded clothes off her dresser, "Here, get comfy!! Im going to go change." She told him before heading into the bathroom.

After she left, Kirishima bee-lined for the large fluffy pillow, jumping on it and sinking into its mushy surface, feeling very warm and secure as it smelled strongly of (Y/N), by far his favorite smell in the world. The bathroom lock soon after clicked and his girlfriend came out, dressed in modest, simple pajamas, a white top and light blue shorts. She looked around trying to find where he had gone before she noticed the tiny lump sprawled across her pillow. Letting a soft giggle escape, she crept quietly toward the bed, pulling herself onto it without disturbing him. She then promptly lied down, gently burying her face into the pillow, nuzzling the tiny man with her nose and forehead. Kirishima gives a soft "oof-" at this, startling him awake from his nodding off. (Y/N) rests the weight of her head on the pillow, still hugging it to her face, tiredly kissing Kiri's belly as it’s the closest thing to her lips. She then let a warm, airy sigh of exhaustion escape and wash over the little body, ruffling the clothes a little, mindful that the breeze isn’t in his face.

The little shark is delighted and surprised by the sleepy snuggles. He hugs the giantess's nose and kisses the closest spot he can reach, between her eyebrows, which he then begins to massage in a satisfying circular motion, hoping to coax the muscles into a softer expression and ease any tension there.

With a small smile curling at her lips, (Y/N) continues to plant very slow, gradual kisses on her little boyfriend's entire torso along with the side of his face, pausing now and then, almost as if she'd fall asleep with her lips on him and her face half atop the tiny.

With a tender expression of his own, Eijiro caresses the girl's nose and cheeks all the while, enjoying the love and attention. He felt like if they were the same size right then, (Y/N)’s head would be buried in his chest, and he would be petting her soft, well kept hair. He had to admit that it was strange to be the comforting bed for a giant, but still, he loved it. He noticed the giantess dozing off and his little beaming grin grew. It really had been a long day especially with the fun they had had, and snuggling sounded very very inviting.

(Y/N) was almost asleep when she felt his tiny hand pat her face, signaling her to let him out from under her face. "Mmmm- Sorry..." She giggled groggily, letting him scurry out from underneath her. the two then carefully situated themselves with (Y/N) on her side, curled around her tiny man who hugged to her large warm body.

(Y/N) had slept very soundly throughout the entirety of the night, and when she awoke, it was to the very soft warm golden glow of the sun stretching itself into the room through closed blinds. The sleepy girl didn't quite remember closing the blinds last night. As her eyes gently fluttered open, it came to her attention that Kirishima was not a tiny little bean anymore, but very much his normal hight as he wrapped himself around her. A bright blush that rivaled the color of her man's hair blossomed on her cheeks, ears, neck, and tops of her shoulders. She looked up at his peaceful face as he held her close in a spooning position, her being the little spoon. (Y/N) then noted that he had her sweats on, but remained shirtless, his body like a human heater. She smiled to herself and snuggled close to him. 

Truly one of the best days ever.

______________________

A request for: Sunshine

i had a lot of fun writing this!!! Thank you to WinterKlover for being my beta reader and helping me sort my story to its finest!!!!! Keep up the cute requests!!! Ill be working on them as much as I can!!!! ____________________

Up next: ( ∆ requested, Ω inspiration)

∆~ Bakugo x tiny YN - Hot Pocket

∆~ Giant deku x YN - Baby Bird

∆~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - Dynamight!? More like Firecracker!!!

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - The Crown Jewel

Ω~ Shoto x Tiny YN - Baby It's Cold Outside

Ω~ Tiny Deku x YN - Hickery Dickery Dock

Ω~ Bakugo x Tiny YN - Pest Control is For Pests

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - The Prize Fish

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - Baby Shark

Ω~ Giant Kirishima x YN - The Big Bad Wolf

Ω~ Tiny Deku x YN - Peter Rabbit

Ω~ Tiny Bakugo x YN - He's A Pop-Rockin Pixie ___________________

let me know if you guys want some of these sooner than others, right now they are in the order of request and then inspiration. Requests willl come before inspiration.

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This is my art please do not trace or repost without my permission. feel free to reblog though, id appreciate that!!