❝Look what you made me do.❞ [Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift]
.
.
.
Your fists turned your knuckles white and held a tremor that had nothing to do with fear—but with rage. Loathing, even. You watched her, the new girl in your class, being surrounded by a group of girls and boys as she spoke, an innocent smile on her face. You were supposed to be there, in the eye of their attention. Not her. And you wouldn’t allow anyone to take your rightful place.
You were born for it, weren’t you?
❖
"Above all, I will love you. But, I don't think others will if this happens and they see it."
Her soft and warm—excluding her rings, which were cold against your delicate child skin—hands cup your cheeks. One couldn't even call what laid before her small feet a corpse, just a grotesque mess of flesh, filth and a few small bright red feathers.
"What was that, my darling?" Reika asks, the ghost of a revulsed sneer escaping the woman's attempt to contain it, she looks away from the mess, her eyes focusing on yours with attempted calm and kindness.
"A Robin bird..." you say, your eyes dazed and fixed on the former bird. Your mind was reeling, your heart pumped blood relentlessly—and most importantly—, the arteries on the sides of your forehead throbbed in what felt like a dagger straight through one end of your skull to another.
And then, a black void.
Your eyes, being blinded even behind their eyelids, open in discomfort. The first thing you see are your hands on the sides of your laying body, covered in a thin blanket provided by the hospital you were now in.
"Sōzōkami, ____?" A gentle voice that carries the years lived and knowledge calls out your name, and you search for its source. The elderly woman smiles sweetly as she ambles over to your bed, kind eyes looking down at yours. "Honey, how are you feeling? You've got quite a sleep, huh? 6 hours." She chuckles softly as your eyes widen in surprise. Your head now was better, though the trace of that excruciating pain remained lingering, and an uncanny feeling that something had stirred inside you—that something within you had changed—gnawed at your mind.
"What happened to me, miss?" Your voice was still sleepy, but preserved that sweet edge that always had for others. The woman smiles and explains what your mother—ever the silver-tongued, made up a short and concise story—told her you suddenly fainted and how she suspected it might've been because you hadn't had breakfast that morning, and the old lady ate it up. Soon, it was your mother who walked through the door and replaced the elderly woman's presence, sitting on a cushioned chair beside you. "You didn't tell her about the bird, right?" Upon your consistent silence, she calls out your name to break your daze, finally earning a 'no' for an answer from you. With a satisfied smile, she kisses your head and brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
❖
Before you could even really think of the morale of your actions, you act on instinct when you took your classmates and your own toys, plushes, and any other personal object you could find—courtesy of today’s date; show and tell—and stored them into her cubicle. Quickly, you return to the playground before anyone could even notice you were gone, and to fit with the story you created, she goes to the bathroom.
The confused cries of your classmates reach your ears, acting as a melodic symphony to your successful plan. The teachers began to look into everyone’s cubicles, finally making into the girl’s and finding the children’s objects. With a satisfied smirk masked behind your hands—playing the role of victim and being comforted by your friends—, you watch her being escorted to the principle’s office. Sitting down back onto the dwarf colorful tables from the equally colorful classroom, show and tell begins, but you pay no mind to whatever they had to talk about as you were transfixed on the window expecting the girl’s shameful return.
It seemed, though, she had not learnt her lesson as she continued to try and steal your spotlight. Of course, she failed as you were way to far up in your pedestrial for her to even hope to reach the bottom of it, but the continuos attempts annoyed you—infuriated you, even. Again, you kept framing her, building her a reputation that slowly descended her in the social hierarchy pyramid present in your kindergarten, the one you yourself built and the others followed. Your perfectly crafted ‘crimes’varied from simple rumours such as her having lice to her destroying the girl’s bathroom, or losing the class’ pet hamster.
Soon enough, she was expelled—and you couldn’t be more satisfied and prouder. You had played your cards right, perfectly strategized what to do without being either too exaggerated or too measly to be effective. You now swung calmly on the swings watching as the girl walked past the gate of the playground beside her mother with her head hung low in shame and the woman seething with anger, your lips played into a smirk when your eyes locked—and it told her everything she had to know and no one would believe.
You did it, you framed her. You won. You were the devil.
[Name] is a ghost. Well, sort of. She can interact with the world around her, she can’t be seen by wizards nor witches, and she ages as time passes. For a while, she floated through life isolated and confused. But what happens when [Name] meets someone who can actually see her, a wizard by the name of Harry Potter.
➸ real boy (saiki k x reader)
Saiki Kusuo is an enigma in [Name]’s eyes. He’s so unbothered by the world around him, it’s almost as if he isn’t human. [Name], a cunning young girl who can practically get anything she wants out of a person, begins to find herself obsessed with the boy, wanting to see him laugh, cry, show any kind of emotion. As her obsession grows and grows, Saiki finds it harder to keep his secrets hidden, and [Name] has no plans of stopping until she gets what she wants.
➸ compulsive gamber (bnha various x reader)
plot not set up yet -- kakegurui-inspired bnha fic. mc lives a double life as a gambler and ua student. still under construction.
➸ fashionista (stardew valley various x reader)
After losing almost all of her money following a career-damaging lawsuit, [Name] [Lastname], known as Emory Diva in the fashion world, joins her sister in a small town called Stardew Valley.
Summary: After swerving to avoid some shadowy-like figure, you crash into a tree. Now stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a forest, you ask, ‘I’m going to die, aren’t I?’ before you fall unconscious, you see many tall figures running up to you- and all fades to black.
A Bnha fantasy story, including centaurs, faes, dragons and more! And you’re in the middle of it. As a normal human being
Aizawa x reader, Shinso x reader, Todoroki x reader, (maybe more if I feel up to it)
I have a request, What is the reaction of Shigaraki, Geten, Dabi, Mr. Compress, Hawks, and Tokoyami to the Filipino S/O that cooked adobo for them (We need more Filipino representation in these fanfics/ imagines/ headcanons) and I know you can do it better than me.
ㅤhim? with a filipino s/o? hmm, i won't say he would give a fuck? since y'know he's a hero, he doesn't discriminate against races or gender or the color of your skin.
ㅤbut i'd say, he never went to philippines before; so realizing you came from and/or have half of the blood of filipinos seemed so cool to him.
ㅤif you grew up eating filipino food and like cooking, there you go! he'd taste anything you make! especially food from the philippines, even if it does look disgusting!
ㅤhe'll still taste it, but of course he's going to be honest about what he likes; he's not gonna let you make food that he doesn't like or may or may not throw it in the garbage! he wants you to use ingredients that he'll actually eat, otherwise it'll be a waste.
ㅤunless you wanna eat it??
ㅤthe first time you cooked adobo for him he was skeptical, due to the fact it's brown?? and it's soup? for all he knows it's probably sh- /J!!!
ㅤbut oh my goodness, the moment he ate adobo with rice, oh my fucking god.
ㅤhe started eating like no tomorrow. the sweet and slightly bitter taste was just ✨perfection✨ to him.
ㅤsafe to say when you make him adobo he brings it to work for lunch/baon.
you also taught him a few filipino words! and now he's bless-ly cursed accidentally saying them on a daily basis!
ャ shigaraki tomura;
ㅤhe does not care what your nationality is. like he gives zero fucks.
ㅤyou could be from belgium and he wouldn't give a fuck-
ㅤwhen you made him adobo let's say he was disgusted, it was a tiny bit slimy and he was staring at it with a brow raised while looking back and forth at you and the food.
ㅤhe's not trying to be rude!! kind of-? he's just- what's the word- surprised?? that you gave him a dish? that may or may not kill him if he eats it.
ㅤbut you assured him that it was edible and you can't die from it.
ㅤso he rolled his eyes and ate it.
ㅤhe said it was good 🤷🏻
ャ dabi;
ㅤjust like shigaraki and hawks, he doesn't really care what your nationality or race is; he literally could care less.
ㅤunlike the others, he actually walked in while you were making the adobo- he said it smelled great and said he can't wait to eat it when you're done 👍
ㅤhe's one of the mfs that didn't care what it looked like, hindi sya ma-arte ( he's not fussy )
ㅤthe moment you gave him the dish, he tasted it without thinking; he said it was good with a bored expression and gave a thumbs up while chewing.
ャ mr. compress;
ㅤhe finds it amusing since he has never tasted adobo or any other filipino dish.
ㅤso he was actually pretty excited!
ㅤhe even decided to set up the table so fancy, he even included those singular candles on the center of the tables like the ones you see in the movies.
ㅤi won't lie he probably doesn't smell anything under the mask unless he does that loud ass sniff, so you probably heard that while you were making the adobo.
ㅤmf was all *SNIFF* lIKE OKAY..!? CHILL... DAMN!! it's like his hoe ass don't got a nose.
ㅤwhen you put the dish on the table, you can see stars in his eyes since he removed his mask; he was astonished really.
ㅤit smelt so good it's just ✨✨
ㅤhe was asking questions like “what's it called?” “who made it?” “is this soy sauce???”
ㅤit was so adorable i can't.
ャ geten
ㅤhe does not pay attention toward whatever food you decided to give him, if it was poisonous he would spit it onto your face, if it tasted gross he'd spit it on your face, if it- yeah you get the idea.
ㅤso when you actually asked him if he wanted to have a change in the meals you give him and make him one of your countrys' best dish... he raised a brow, atleast- he slowly turned his hooded head towards you.
ㅤhorror movie lookin' actin' ass...
ㅤhe shrugged and walked away from you with his hands in his pockets 🤷🏻
ㅤwhich you took as a yes because you already bought the ingredients and you won't be taking a no or an i don't know as an answer 🖕
ㅤwhen you stopped by wherever he fuckin' trains, you were holding a tray with a plate, utensils, etc. and an unknown dish that caught his eye.
ㅤit was oily, and much like shigaraki; he looked towards you and the adobo.
ㅤhis... hooded.. facial.. expression?.. practically spelled out; “tf is this?”
ㅤHES NOT SAYING IT LOOKS DISGUSTING BUT HE'S A JUDGEMENTAL POS LIKE ME AND IS SILENTLY THINKING IT DOES LOOK DISGUSTING..
ㅤbut you brought a spoon with the soup to his mouth and told him to say “ah” he reluctantly did and drank the soup.
ㅤhuh. it didn't taste all that bad. it's just the appearance. slimy ass appearance-
ャ tsukuyomi;
ㅤone of the people along with compress that would actually help you make the adobo despite not knowing what the fuck to do.
ㅤyou tell him stories about how your parents would sometimes make this and you'd always be a happy little child when they did.
ㅤyou promised him it was gonna taste delicious and he nodded, trusting you.
ㅤhe even asked if he could let his friends taste it too because he wanted everyone to taste your wonderful cooking!!
ㅤalthough tokoyami does think that you should only make food for him because.. you know.. he's your boyfriend, it's only fair.
ㅤalong with the rest of his class he thought it tasted great!
ㅤhe looks forward eating more of the dishes that came from your country that is made by you <3
+ mixx's note; it's been so long~ sINCE I HAVE POSTED A FICCC 💢 this was hella fun though!! thank you for asking an amazing hc rq again hexrts! <3
A/N: As an apology I decided to give you most of the sports festival in this chapter so be prepared to read more than likely over a few 5000 words, with all the covid stuff going on here in Europe and school I didn’t really have much time to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter and forgive me for my very very very late upload 😊
(this chapter has not been edited)
The whole public was amazed, barely a second in the battle and it seemed like it was already a win for Shinso. You could hear some people close by mumbling how they were surprised that someone form general studies had managed to this within a second, to be honest they were not the only ones, you as well thought this. It wasn’t exactly common for the classes that focused less on quirks (like the hero course) to be so high placed, which was a bit sad as they were kind off ignored in favour for the “higher classes”, it was as if they were a bit biased.
“Hey Y/N? Aren’t you also surprised why this dude isn’t in the hero course?” Looking to the side you could see that your friend had leaned a bit closer to you while still looking at the “fight” that was going on at the moment (Midoriya walking wasn’t really a fight). In the background you could faintly hear the voice of the pro hero Eraser Head speaking about some things.
“I mean, not really…Don’t look at me like that.” You pinched their arm, making them wince and lean away form you as they rubbed the more than likely red spot. “The entrance exam was us fighting against robots, by my guess Shinso has some quirk that works with the mind, but robots don’t have those. So unless he knew that saving people would get you points he most likely failed and didn’t get in the course. It’s a pretty stupid reason if you think about it, they should totally change that.”
F/N looked at you with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, they made some weird movements, scrunching their eyebrows and then relaxing them again, looking side to side as if they were searching for something to say at your explanation.
“I didn’t know you were that smart, like, at all.”
Offended you looked at them, their only reply being a shrug as they looked away from your burning eyes. Smacking their arm really hard you looked back to the fight after having felt a rush of wind, completely ignoring F/N’s yell of “Ow! On the same place?!” and “Why?”
With your attention finally being on the fight you could see that Midoriya was pushing Shinso to the line while Shinso himself was yelling things at him, thought they were to far away to properly hear.
Everyone flinched a bit back when Shinso delivered a painful looking punch to the face of Midoriya, he tried to push back by placing his hand on Midoriya’s face but Midoriya took a hold of his arm and threw him firmly over his shoulder onto the ground and over the white line, signifying the win of this round for Midoriya.
“Shinso is out of the ring! Midoriya moves on to the second round!”
And with the win officially given by Midnight the public and your group screamed loudly as they stood up.
“Well we’re off to an uneventful start! Put your hands together for our fierce competitors!”
Everyone listened to what Present Mic said and started clapping and screaming loudly for the two boys.
Shinso walked away from the stage and even if he had his head bowed slightly to the ground one could see, if they looked closely enough, that he was holding back tears.
While he just got of the stage, some other kids (more than likely from his class) yelled down to him with big smiles as they proudly looked at him, it didn’t surprise you one bit as he was quite amazing, had Midoriya not gotten out of whatever trance he was in, Shinso could have gotten far enough to get to the top three.
“So who is fighting next?” You asked out loud to your two friends but it seemed they knew as much as you did as they merely shrugged with sheepish smiles.
“Useless, I have no idea why I brought you two here.” Your joking remark was rewarded by two slaps on your arms, and to make sure they wouldn’t do this again you said something.
“Harder please.”
As if you suddenly had some sort of disease they both shuffled away from you with disgusted frowns on their faces as they held their arms close to their bodies.
“You’re so gross I can’t believe I was friends with you!” F/N yelled out, followed by a “I second that but I can’t believe that I became friends with you!” from Ilya.
With a huge (slightly mocking) smile you wrapped your arms around their shoulders, making sure that they were extra close to you to increase their so called disgust.
“You guys love me and you can’t deny it.”
They both succumbed to their fate and relaxed in your arms as they nodded slightly, your (for once) peaceful air was ruined by a loud Present Mic as he announced the next round.
“The wait is over! Moving on, here they are!”
You could see the tape guy walking up the stage, his arms stretched in front of him and his hands interconnected with his palms facing outside. On the other side of the stage a somehow really angry looking guy stood with two different hair colours.
“The cream of the crop! Yet this guy is somehow still as plain as they come, it’s Sero Hanta of the hero course! Versus, the best of the best! The strongest of the strongest! It’s Todoroki Shouto, also from the hero course!”
After a few seconds of silence Present Mic announced the start of the round.
Sero quickly wrapped some tape around Todoroki and yanked him to the side.
“He’s trying to push him out with a surprise attack! It’s probably the best strategy for him! Sero’s giving it his all”
Seeing the fast action of Sero you couldn’t help but stand up and cheer like some others and yelled out your support. “You go Sero!”
Yet it seemed as if it was in vain, a big gust of wind wafted up and suddenly half of the stadium was covered in a gigantic mountain of ice. Everyone was so silent that you could even hear Sero muttering the question of “That’s overkill no?” He too was completely covered in ice and you stood frozen in your place with our hands raised up in the sky like a total moron.
Midnight, who was also frozen broke the silence. “Sero? Can you move?”
Sero replied slightly shaking in the ice. “You’re kidding right? Ow ow ow.” You weren’t really surprised that he was currently in pain.
“Sero is immobilized! Todoroki moves on to the second round!”
Slowly you brought your hands down to you mouth and decided to yell out some encouragement, from that one tiny interaction you actually felt quite bad for him.
“It’s fine!” You eyes looked around, hoping that others would follow your example.
“It’s fine!” A few other yelled with you in sync, when you yelled for the third time it was more until everyone was yelling “It’s fine!” at the same time.
In the meantime Todoroki had gone to Sero to help him out of the ice with his…other quirk?
It was announced that there would be another short pause until the ice was all gone, some other heat based heroes came down to help with the melting.
Unsurprisingly it took quite while until the huge mountain was completely gone.
“With the arena all thawed out, it’ time for the match! It’s class B’s assassin! Every…something- or- other has it’s thorns right? It’s Shiozaki Ibara! Versus, The sparkling killing boy! Kaminari Denki!”
All of a sudden Shiozaki turned around to face the commentators, objecting the fact that she had been called an assassin. Present Mic apologized and the match continued. Once again there were a few second of silence before he yelled out his start.
Electricity sparked around Kaminari as he determinedly looked at Shiozaki, he seemed to be very strong. But alas, it seemed as if you thought to high of him, once he made his attack he was left looking weirdly.
Shiozaki had protected herself and stood safely under a bunch of plants as she wrapped vines around Kaminari, it was obvious who had won here.
Not too soon after it was time for the next match to begin and Present Mic gave once again introduced the new contestants.
“The first round is just about half over! Next up is Ida Tenya of the hero course! Versus, covered head to toe in support equipment, it’s Hatsume Mei of the support course!”
At first there were some issues with the fact that Ida was also wearing support equipment despite that that the hero course wasn’t allowed to use any. The issue was quickly resolved as the reason Ida had apparently struck to the heart and so he was allowed to use the equipment.
Once Present Mic Yelled out his start, Ida didn’t wait for a second and zoomed right to her. He was efficiently dodged by Hatsume who spoke about the action she made while Ida messily turned back around. Hatsume began speaking about the equipment like a born sales-woman with the help of a microphone to increase her volume.
“Ah, is she using him to ell her items or something?” You snorted at the remark Ilya made, though it probably was correct. “She totally did, I mean, look at her…she isn’t even focused on her fight.”
F/N decided to contribute to the conversation. “Hey guys, how long do you think this is going to take? Look at all the stuff she has on her, like, that isn’t going to be like ‘one two three and done!’”
You both looked at F/N, realizing that it would probably take around ten minutes or so before Hatsume would finally be finished with whatever she was going to speak about.
“Damn, I guess we can just talk now right?”
Expectantly you looked side to side but were disappointed by the fact that both of your friends were on their phones not even listening to you. With a huge sigh you leaned back in your seat and took out your own phone.
“Guess I’ll do the same then.”
The following ten minutes were filled with the speaking of Hatsume while almost everyone was on their phone except some people that worked for support companies who were watching the match with surprisingly great attention.
You were very glad when that ended and were looking forward to the next round, hoping that it would be better than whatever just happened.
The match was between a guy named Aoyoma Yuga and a pink girl named Ashido Mina, you were honestly quite impressed by her dodging, she seemed very lithe in the movements she made.
She managed to win by throwing acid on the belt of Aoyoma and then upper cutting him right on his chin with such force that he was knocked unconscious.
Surprised you spoke to your friends. “That must’ve been one hell of a punch!”
After a minute the next math began, it was between a guy who had a bird head, to say it frankly, and a girl with black hair. The match was over quite soon, it seemed that by the time the girl would’ve made an object to help her in her fight, the boy just interrupted her as he didn’t need to wait for his quirk.
Soon after to other guys stepped up, they walked almost in synchrony, smashed their fists against their palms at the exact same time and ran at each other exactly at the same time when Present Mic gave the start signal.
They kept the match going for suite some time as they were seemingly evenly matched and their quirks were very similar to each other. Eventually they managed to tire themselves so out that when they landed the next punch on each other’s faces they knocked the other out, their bodies thudding on the ground on the exact same moment. The match was declared a draw and they would do an arm-wrestling match after they both woke up to declare a winner.
Finally it was time for the last match to begin.
“For the last matchup of the first round. A celebrity since his middle school days, with a face only a mother could love. It’s Bakugo Katsuki of the hero course! Versus! My personal pick! Uraraka Ochaco also of the hero course!”
With a deadpanned expression you looked at the announcers, more specifically at Present Mic for his blatant favouritism. ‘Ah, aren’t they supposed to be neutral in these things?’
You weren’t really surprised with the fact that Present Mic said that Bakugo’s face was one only a mother could love, he did have his mouth scrunched up in a weird way and his narrowed eyes didn’t give a great impression either. You preferred him a bit more when he was more silent and less ‘don’t fucking look at me peasant’, like when he was walking silently beside you when he guided you to the public entrance almost an hour ago.
[Just in between, I legit finished half a manga volume with everything above here, but I really wanna finish the sports festival, anyway, continue…]
It was silent for a little while, everyone for some reason looked at the two new contestants with bated breath, no one even dared to make noise until Present Mic announced the start.
Uraraka ran to Bakugo with extreme speed, low to the ground and both her hands held in front of her but she was stopped by a pretty big blast right in her face, at first you though that Bakugo had her pinned on the ground until you saw that what he held was an empty jacket.
Right from the side Uraraka sprung to Bakugo with her arms outstretched while Present Mic excitedly spoke about what she had done to fool Bakugo.
For a second it seemed that she was going to touch his back but with immense speed another explosion was blasted right into her face and she was knocked back, slightly skidding on the floor until she got back up.
‘Amazing! His reaction time is so fast! I wish I could do that!’
With wide eyes and bathed breath you kept looking at the fight. Hoping for the sweet looking girl, Uraraka, to win but silently also hoping that Bakugo would take the first place, though you did have to admit that seeing Uraraka charge relentlessly at Bakugo wasn’t a really pleasant experience.
You could hear that Present Mic felt something along the same lines as you but it was more in the way of ‘poor girl so strong willed but not strong enough against him’ and it seemed that other spectators felt the same as him.
A hero in the stands started booing and soon enough a whole crowd went along with it, while yes it wasn’t nice to see, both Bakugo and Uraraka didn’t deserve their fight to be booed. They were both giving it their best and it felt for you that they were insulting Uraraka’s braveness and strong will power especially against someone who was so focused on a goal as Bakugo.
A small nudge caused your attention to leave the fight as you locked eyes with Ilya.
“Don’t you think that the booing is stupid? I mean, they like, should’ve noticed the things in the sky right?”
You looked at him questioningly, furrowing your brows and adding a small head tilt.
Rolling his eyes, Ilya pointed at the sky overhead Uraraka and Bakugo, showing rocks floating above them, slightly hidden from the public and thoroughly from the fighters beneath.
A small “Woah!” escaped your mouth as you looked at it, some people nearby who had heard followed your line of sight and gaped alongside of you. Faintly you could hear Present Mic agreeing with the still on going booing but he was quickly stopped by Eraser Head who spoke firmly through the microphone.
“Is the one who said that he’s toying with her a pro? How many years of active duty? If that’s what you’re taking away from watching then you can leave, there’s no point for you staying here and watching. Go home and start looking for another job.”
At his words your friends and you clenched your fists and yelled a “Yeah!” knowing that he was going to defend Bakugo and Uraraka.
“She came this far and he knows her strength. His caution shows that he recognizes her as a worthy opponent. It’ because he wants to win so badly that he can’t afford to hold back.”
Some people alongside you cheered with you and your friends. The way he spoke was somehow very encouraging despite speaking in a mostly monotonous voice.
All the focus went back to the still on going fight, you could see that Uraraka was speaking but it was obvious that you were too far away to properly hear her, by watching her mouth you could only guess that she had said ‘Thank you’ but you weren’t very sure.
All the smoke had left and people looked with wide eyes as Uraraka put her fingertips together and unleashed the massive amount of big rocks above their heads.
Even Present mic hadn’t even noticed the rock and loudly yelled in the microphone what Uraraka had made.
“It’s a meteor storm!”
Uraraka ran forward with all her might while Bakugo determinedly looked up at the falling rocks, he braced himself and raised his left arm in the sky while he supported it with his other.
Tiny sparks ran up his arm and released such a gigantic explosion that even you could feel the heat that came from it, you slightly closed your eyes to protect them from the very bright light but you were still amazed by the prowess that Bakugo showed in that single second.
Bakugo had obliterated the rocks in mere seconds.
“What and explosion! Uraraka’s secret plan just, went up in smoke!”
They both tried to run at each other but it seemed that Uraraka's meteor storm had taken too much out of her as she fell to the ground and tried to crawl further. Bakugo stood still watching just like the audience as Midnight went down to check on Uraraka and deemed her unable to continue and spoke that Bakugo would move on to the second round.
Your group of friends and some other audience members cheered at the victory but most of the others watched with pity as Uraraka was moved away by to tiny robots.
“Oh, poor Uraraka, taken down by Bakugo in the first round.” You could hear the reply of the previously silent Eraser Head. “If you’re going to be an announcer then do it right.”
You couldn’t help but agree with what he said.
“Well, get it together everyone…The first round is now over! We’ll move on to the second after a quick break!”
Once again you could hear Eraser Head speaking to Present Mic over the microphone, it was honestly quite entertaining to hear their friendly banter. It wasn’t the first time that you had seen it either, there were a lot of videos on the internet of their friendship and especially these moments.
“You’re making this way too personal.”
Once again you agreed with Eraser Head’s words, you’d love to know what else he thought on other topics and stuff, he seems like a pretty cool teacher to have.
There was a small break which you used to stretch out after sitting down for so long, you were quite surprised by the amount of pops you could hear coming from you back as you turned a bit to the left and to the right, even your two friends looked at you with wide and slightly disgusted eyes after they heard it. Honestly, you couldn’t blame them, the pops were really loud and they most certainly did not sound pleasant at all.
It seemed that the break was over as Present Mic announced that Kirishima and Tetsutetsu would do their arm-wrestling contest to see who would get to go to the next round, after a surprising amount of time, Kirishima came out victorious. His opponent was on the ground on his knees but when he looked up he was met with the sight of Kirishima standing with his hand outstretched to help him up, they both looked each other intensely in the eyes, it seemed that they had come to some sort of understanding.
With all the winners being known, Present Mic did not wait for much longer before he announced the start of the first match of the second round.
“Both of these competitors have won top marks in this festival so far! But there is only room for one of these greats in the ring! It’s Todoroki vs. Midoriya!! Start!”
Immediately after he yelled the start they both readied themselves, in the blink of an eye Todoroki had send out a big amount of ice towards Midoriya, you slightly worried that Midoriya wouldn’t really be able to do anything but you were surprised that he held out his hand and flicked a finger to the ice which then shattered into a bunch of pieces, because of the wind they both lightly stumbled back before managing to stay steady.
“WHOAA! He smashed right through!” There was no other way to describe what had happened.
Once again Todoroki used the same attack and Midoriya defended in the same way, this time Todoroki made some sort of ice shield behind himself so he wouldn’t get blown backwards by the wind. Faintly you could see on the big screens around the stadium that Midoriya’s fingers were very damaged, some even seemed to be coloured a deep purple.
The same thing happened two extra times before Todoroki got closer to Midoriya to attack, he punched the ground where Midoriya stood before he dodged, on the big tv’s you could see that there was a bit of ice caught onto Midoriya’s foot.
Suddenly there was a big gust of wind and dust flying around, faintly you could see that Todoroki once again had made a shield of ice behind him, though they could also be chunks of ice that had fallen back on the ground or something. For some reason the wind seemed stronger than the ones that happened before, once the dust cleared you could see that Midoriya’s arm was damaged.
Both Midoriya and Todoroki stood there for a few seconds saying something to each other but it was not picked up by any microphone, Todoroki then once again decided to do another ice attack like he had done the previous three times.
Somehow Midoriya defended himself with his more than likely very broken fingers, much to the bafflement of the audience and his opponent. He yelled something at Todoroki and for once the microphones actually picked something up.
“Gimme everything you got! Come at me!” With his broken fingers he clenched his hand tightly into the eyes of Todoroki with pain but determined to complete some sort of goal. (couldn’t help myself)
It was quite amazing to see the amount of dedication Midoriya had for something even if you didn’t know what it was, you wouldn’t have been able to do that and not to mention the amount of pain tolerance he had to have to even bite through the pain of the broken fingers and, most likely, arm.
‘He must’ve been through quite a bit… That Todoroki guy too, just look at how cold he is…Haha.’
You felt both proud and horrible for your sense of newly discovered humour. It was a pun and most certainly not exactly suitable for the context you meant it in.
Just then your eyes caught sight of the punch that was delivered directly into Todoroki’s stomach area, he flew behind and skidded a few times on the ground before coming to a stop, he stood back up and clutched his stomach.
“What a hit! Things are really heating up!”
Everybody was amazed as until now, neither Midoriya nor Todoroki had managed to give the other a solid hit. Once again you were pleasantly surprised, somehow, despite the fact that Midoriya looked completely beat up despite not having been hit.
Midoriya raised his hand to his mouth when he saw that Todoroki was coming closer, he had instead of solely using his fingers to flick them he had decided to make use of his thumb that had probably not been used. He put it on the inside of his mouth, right with the cheek and flicked Todoroki back with a blast. In between the next attack Midoriya yelled something at Todoroki, it was then that you could either see a bruise or blood on his cheek. He attacked once, twice, yelling at Todoroki seemingly with all his heart.
It was both admirable and extremely painful to see how far he went for his goal.
But you could see that it had an effect on Todoroki as he somehow seemed to be there yet also not.
Once Midoriya had knocked him down onto the ground he took a big gulp of air and yelled at the top of his lungs.
“Your power, is your own!”
For a second you could see sadness on Todoroki’s face, yet it seemed as if he had once again discovered something that had been taken away from him.
Before you or anyone else knew, a huge flame rose up from the middle, you could feel a surprising amount of heat reach towards where you sat and your hands instinctually went up to protect your face from the blaze.
For some reason, the flames were exceptionally beautiful in that moment. Faintly you could see a smile on his face.
All of a sudden a shout was heard. “Shouto!” Endeavor had stood up from his seat and was stomping down the stairs yelling things you couldn’t hear. Present Mic spoke after the action, by his voice you could hear that he as well was confused by whatever it was that Endeavor said.
“A sudden pep talk from Mr. Endeavor huh? What a doting parent.” Under his voice he mumbled that he found it slightly unexpected as they were not on good terms apparently.
When the flames had downed slightly you focused all your attention on the fight again, Todoroki still had a part of him that was on fire but the heat was not felt to where you were, you could see that Midoriya and him stood face to face, ready to preform one final attack.
They both flew at each other, reaching out but were stopped in the middle by Cementoss and Midnight. Several slabs of cement rose up from the ground between them and faintly you could see that Midnight ripped a part of her hero costume to release her quirk.
The two attacks hit the slabs of cement and a gigantic cloud of dust rose over the stage, the wind blew everything and everyone back, your eyes had to squint to keep dust out of them, the dust cloud went so high that you could see it rising over the stadium. Present Mic spoke for everyone when he asked Eraser head what was up with his class.
“What a blast and what heat! Can’t see a thing. Has the match been decided?”
The dust started to clear, Midoriya was seemingly leaning against the wall, your eyes widened as you suddenly saw him fall with a thud to the ground.
“Todoroki moves on to the third round!”
There he stood, half covered in the dust and surrounded by ice, his clothing was partially burned away by his own quirk. You had to be honest with yourself, it was quite a sight to behold and you were very sure that you were not the only one.
The next round started after the previously done damages to the stage were repaired, it was time for Shiozaki to go against Ida. It felt as if the fight went by too fast but somehow you were not very surprised that it happened as it was a part of Ida’s quirk, especially if he kicked it into high gear.
You giggled at your joke despite the fact that it wasn’t your best one. You knew you could do better.
Eventually Ida won the match and then the next round between Ashido and Tokoyami was starting and ending before you knew it.
It was finally time for the last match in the second round, Kirishima vs Bakugo.
In all honesty, you were surprisingly excited for this match, not only because you were curious as to what other moves Bakugo had in his arsenal but also for the outcome of this match. While it was true that Bakugo was seemingly pretty vicious when fighting, you had a feeling that Kirishima would be able to old himself quite well against him with his quirk and you really wanted to see just how well he could use it against such an opponent and if he was able to win this.
The match had a very explosive start, but it seemed that Kirishima was doing just fine against the explosion that were pretty much fired off at point-blank.
When Bakugo fired off another explosion with his left he was countered by Kirishima who managed to scratch his right cheek with his hardened fist. With wide eyes filled with amazement you kept watching at how Kirishima attacked by rapidly punching.
“Man, these guys are pretty cool…” You muttered under your breath.
They kept exchanging punches, or in Bakugo’s case explosions, with each other before suddenly an explosion managed to hurt Kirishima in his side.
Present Mic yelled out your exact thoughts at that moment.
“OOOH! Did he feel that?!”
Kirishima seemed a bit dazed after that and Bakugo took full advantage of that, he started blasting away at Kirishima, not giving him time to retaliate or do more to protect himself.
With a final powerful explosion, probably filled with all his determination, Bakugo blasted Kirishima away, he yelled something but you weren’t able to hear whatever he said.
With a slightly bated breath you looked at Kirishima, who laid on the ground, and slightly hoped that he would come back up, for he seemed so strong. Sadly enough Present Mic announced the final outcome of the battle.
“Bakugo’s carpet bombing blasts him into third round! And with that we’ve got our final four!”
A/N: Sooo, I uh, wanted to get the whole sports festival done in this chapter but it was so much that I decided to split it in three. Comments and likes are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoyed this 5000+ chapter like I said in the beginning…that was my estimation for the whole sports festival, I have underestimated the amount :/
❝You look like an angel (look like an angel) / Walk like an angel (walk like an angel) / Talk like an angel❞ [You’re the Devil in Disguise - Elvis Presley & The Jordanaires]
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
You sat at your vanity, the soft whirr of the morning air mingling with your quiet humming—a melody as delicate as it was distant. Your hands moved with gentle precision, smoothing out each section of hair until it fell exactly the way you wanted. Neat, polished, intentional, each strand was carefully coaxed into place—not a single flyaway daring to break free from your meticulous styling. The reflection that stared back at you was as polished as your intentions—smiling sweetly, eyes lined with the faintest shimmer, and not a flaw in sight. It was the same smile you wore every morning: calculated, charming, and entirely yours.
You rose to your feet with the grace of someone who’d practiced posture and poise since toddlerhood, brushing invisible creases from the hem of your neatly pressed black blouse and smoothing down the pleats of your black skirt. Everything about your uniform was immaculate—crisp collar, perfectly ironed fabric, the red neckerchief at the end of the sailor collar tied in an elegant knot. The golden pin on your chest gleamed faintly under the soft bedroom light, a small but deliberate statement. You liked things to be just so.
Your room was untouched by chaos, not even a misplaced book or askew pen. Every corner was clean, every surface wiped to a shine. Your mirror reflected a still life of control and charm.
Descending the stairs, you walked into the kitchen with practiced grace, your steps silent on the wooden floor. You took your usual seat at the countertop—a tall, velvet-cushioned high chair that felt molded to your shape after years of the same morning ritual. It was your spot, as much yours as the air you breathed.
Reika stood behind the kitchen island in her pressed robe, pouring the final swirl of syrup and placing the last few blueberries over a short stack of soft pancakes. She slid the plate in front of you, her movements fluid and efficient. As always, your breakfast was warm, balanced, and perfectly portioned. You didn’t speak as you picked up your fork and began eating—methodically, like you did everything else.
Reika leaned her elbows onto the cold marble, folding her arms and tilting her head slightly to study you. “Is he going to walk you to school today?” she asked, her voice casual, but her eyes sharp with curiosity. The faint upward twitch of her lips hinted at amusement.
You didn’t answer verbally. You simply shook your head once, a graceful, quiet dismissal that spoke volumes. He wasn’t needed today. You had more important company to be seen with.
The girls you associated with weren’t friends—though they believed otherwise—, not in the traditional sense. They were alliances—chosen carefully after your transfer at the beginning of middle school. Girls with polished nails and gold wristbands, who spoke in sweet tones laced with superiority, and laughed at the right moments. Girls who didn’t just follow trends—they created them. Being near them meant eyes on you, status.
And you loved that.
Outside, the cool morning air wrapped around you like a hug. The pavement glistened faintly from last night’s dew, and the smell of wet leaves drifted from the trees that lined the neighborhood path. Your black polished loafers clicked softly and gleamed with every step, the rhythm matching the quiet giggles and half-hearted whispers of the girls around you.
They walked in a loose cluster, their uniforms pristine and accessories chosen with delicate intent—gold or silver simple yet elegant chains with charms, hoops or earrings that varied in sizes, subtle designer touches that whispered wealth instead of shouting it. Their laughter rang into the morning air like wind chimes, and you joined in at just the right moment, adding your perfectly rehearsed chuckle.
You didn’t need to dominate the group with words, you had already done that with just your presence.
And as the school building came into view—tall and imposing under the rising sun—you felt it settle again: that quiet satisfaction.
Like everything was exactly where it belonged.
Just like you.
You sat casually on top of your desk, legs crossed, swaying your foot to a rhythm only you could hear as your fingers absentmindedly weaved strands of your friend’s hair into a loose braid. The hum of classroom noise faded into the background, your attention only half on the girl sitting in front of you—more focused on the movement of your hands than her steady stream of gossip.
She was ranting, voice hushed but dripping with malice, tearing into one of her own. Apparently, one of the other girls in your group had dared to develop a crush on the same guy as her—an offense treated like treason in your circle. Now she was being dissected, piece by piece, for her audacity.
The girl being talked about didn’t hold much weight in the group. She was tolerated, not respected. Not like the one currently airing her dirty laundry, who sat comfortably in the middle of the social ladder. And definitely not like you.
You didn’t need to chime in. You were above the petty back-and-forth, the whisper campaigns disguised as concern. Your silence spoke enough—detached, knowing, superior. You simply kept braiding, your expression unreadable, while your friend did the dirty work of keeping the hierarchy intact.
This was how it worked. Alliances were fragile, loyalty conditional. And only those who knew when to stay quiet managed to keep their crown.
“Done, do you like it?”
You asked, your voice soft and laced with feigned kindness—perfectly crafted and practiced like always.
You leaned back slightly, palms supporting your weight against the desk as your friend eagerly pulled out her phone to open the front camera. She turned her head from side to side, admiring the loose braid now cascading over her shoulder. A wide, self-satisfied smile bloomed on her face as she angled her head towards you.
You watched her, chin tilted slightly downward, an unreadable look flickering across your eyes. On the surface, you remained composed—yet that sweetness you always wore like a second skin remained. But beneath that facade, your mind was always moving. Measuring. Weighing. Judging. She was pretty. Not threateningly so, but enough to be useful. Enough to stand next to you without dimming your light. For now, at least.
“I love it,” she breathed, eyes never leaving yours.
Of course she does, you thought, smile tugging faintly at your lips. You made sure of it.
You slid off the desk with slow, graceful ease, brushing invisible lint from your skirt before stepping back into the center of the group. The tension from earlier—the whispers, the venom disguised as gossip—still lingered in the air like a cruel mist.
Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, you slide open the classroom door with a quiet hiss, stepping into the soft gold haze of early morning light flooding the hallway. The building was unusually still—eerily so. The usual murmur of voices and shuffling of shoes were absent, muted by the fact that most classes were in session. Yours wasn’t, thanks to a conveniently absent teacher. A lucky break, really.
The soles of your loafers clicked softly against the polished floor as you made your way down the corridor. Dust motes danced lazily in the shafts of sunlight slanting through the square windows, the warmth brushing your skin like the calm before a storm.
As you neared the restroom, a familiar, sharp voice echoed from somewhere down the hall—aggressive, hoarse, unmistakably his. The blond you knew all too well. He was yelling at someone again, his voice ragged with irritation, like sandpaper dragged across steel.
You didn’t stop walking. Not yet, at least.
Instead, you pushed open the heavy restroom door and stepped inside the cool, sterile space. The tile floor gleamed beneath the flickering fluorescent light overhead, and the scent of strong lemon cleaner clung to the air.
You moved toward the sink and turned on the tap after having used the toilet, letting the cold water run over your hands. The noise of the world dimmed for a moment, and your reflection stared back at you with practised serenity.
But the second the metallic click of the main door echoed behind you, your instincts took over. You moved quickly, silently, slipping into one of the stalls and shutting the door without a sound. In one fluid motion, you perched on the toilet lid, legs folded up, the soles of your shoes pressing firmly on the cold porcelain.
Two pairs of heels tapped into the room, followed by the sound of giggles and the door being clicked shut. You recognized one of the voices immediately—naive, bubbly and cloying. The other voice that responded sent a cold prickle across your skin.
Ayumi.
The girl who’d been the target of everyone’s spite that morning. And now, apparently, the one spitting venom.
“She’s such a bitch,” the high pitched voice of one of them scoffed. “I don’t get why they—especially ___—hang out with her.”
A short pause. And then Ayumi’s voice, quieter but steadier than you'd expected.
“___’s not that much of an angel, you know? People believe it, but she’s kind of like all of them.”
Your hands clenched the fabric of your skirt, the black of your knee-high socks wrinkling beneath the pressure of your grip. Your breath stayed even, but your heart drummed once, hard, behind your ribs.
How dared she?
How dare she speak about you like that. Like you were something ordinary—worse, mean—like you were just one of them.
The other girl hesitated. “No way! She’s like—so cool and kind! She gets along with everyone!”
But Ayumi didn’t respond. The silence hung between them, heavy and telling, before the sound of the door opening and closing marked their exit.
You didn’t leave the topic behind. You couldn’t.
⇋♤⇌
By the end of the month, Ayumi was gone.
Of course, no one pointed fingers at you. Why would they? You had spun the perfect web—an intricate ballet of rumors, whispers, and twisted truths. You had made it look like one of your friends had taken things too far. That girl had always been a little dramatic anyway. Ayumi was suddenly "too sensitive," "too distant," "overreacting."
Slowly, carefully, her days at school had turned gray. Her locker would be empty before lunch. Her name would go unmentioned in conversations she used to be a part of. Every smile turned sharper when aimed at her. Every glance, colder.
By the time she transferred, her existence had already been erased.
Because you couldn’t let her spread those poisonous little thoughts. You couldn't risk the wrong person hearing her words and believing them. You had spent too long polishing your image into something dazzling—something untouchable.
And power, true power, doesn’t come from mercy. It comes from maintenance. Precision.
One doesn’t stay at the top by brushing aside specks of dust. You wipe them off before anyone notices they were ever there.
That same day, once the final bell rang and the classroom had emptied, you lingered behind under the pretense of forgetting something. In truth, you wanted to visit Ayumi’s old desk one last time—like a farewell to a chapter already closed. You stepped inside, the classroom bathed in golden late-afternoon light, empty chairs and quiet corners echoing with the ghosts of conversations.
But you weren’t alone.
As you silently slid the door open, voices—sharp, rough, and far too close—snapped you out of your thoughts. You stopped cold.
Against the chalkboard, Bakugou had Midoriya cornered. His usual scowl was twisted with something deeper—anger, maybe frustration—and his two lackeys loomed nearby, their presence making the air feel heavier. Midoriya, tense and wide-eyed, looked trapped like an insignificant insect.
You didn’t move for a moment, your eyes locking with Midoriya’s—wide, panicked, and desperate. A quiet, almost imperceptible sigh left your lips as you offered him a feigned look of concern. With a gentle motion, you slid the door closed again, as quietly as you'd opened it, letting the scene dissolve behind you like steam off water.
A muffled explosion cracked through the air—then the sound of something heavy hitting water. You turned on your heel, pace unhurried as you made your way toward the patio koi fish pond. Ripples still danced across the surface—and the poor fish living there swam away from the disturbance—as you crouched down, arm reaching in to retrieve the floating object. Your fingers curled around the waterlogged cover of a white notebook, the words 'Hero Analysis' barely legible now.
Izuku Midoriya’s precious treasure.
You shook it gently, droplets cascading like tiny tears, then tucked it away inside your bag with quiet precision. A quick scan of your surroundings confirmed you were still alone. Perfect.
You started walking toward the school gates, expression unreadable, but the sound of rushed footsteps behind you brought your performance back into place.
“Sōzōkami-chan! Wait, please!”
His voice was trembling. Too easy.
You turned, that warm, polished smile slipping seamlessly onto your lips as if it had never left. Your voice softened with false concern. “What’s wrong, Midoriya-kun?”
He launched into the story, stammering and frustrated, relaying Bakugou’s aggression, the explosion, the ruined notebook. You listened attentively—eyebrows furrowed just enough, eyes wide in well-crafted sympathy as you denied seeing the notebook he asked for.
When he turned to leave, defeated, you caught his hand.
“Midoriya-kun…”
Your voice, a gentle purr, held him in place. You cupped his cheeks like he was something fragile, like you might break if you didn’t handle him carefully. “I’m so sorry I didn’t stop him. I saw it, but… I just froze. Bakugou’s anger terrifies me sometimes. You’re so strong, so determined. I wish I had that kind of courage.”
His cheeks turned scarlet beneath your fingertips. You stepped back, the smile lingering just long enough to burn into his memory.
Then you walked away.
As you rounded the corner of the school building, the warmth slipped off your face like a shed layer of skin, replaced by something more neutral—detached, even. You didn’t flinch when you saw him.
Bakugou was already there, leaning against the same brick wall where you’d first seen him that morning. His hands were shoved tight in his pockets, jaw taut, eyes narrowed in the way that meant he was barely containing an explosion. You stopped a few feet in front of him. He opened his mouth, but movement behind you made him hesitate. Midoriya walked past, his head down, not noticing the two of you—thankfully. Bakugou’s scowl deepened at the sight.
He didn’t say it, but you caught the way his fists clenched tighter than before.
“You took your damn time.”
You raised a brow, expression flat, uninterested. “Didn’t know I had to report to you.”
His glare sharpened, but he didn’t reply immediately. You adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder and started walking, and after a beat, he followed. The silence stretched long between you, but you didn’t offer an explanation. Let him break it. When he finally spoke again, it was low, clipped.
“So where were you?”
You didn’t turn your head. “None of your business.”
Another pause. You could feel his frustration radiating off him like heat from the pavement. But he didn’t press—not yet. Suddenly, you stop on your tracks, cupping his chin and stopping him as well.
“Suki~... getting this mad over him? I thought better of you. But, I guess I was wrong.”
The last words were cold, your hand leaving his chin as you resumed your path. The rest of the way to your house was silent, Bakugou emanated jealousy, rage, and a turmoil of emotions he couldn't quite handle nor name.
And you—you were calm, mockingly so.
⇋♤⇌
Izuku lay sprawled across his bed, the soft sheets crinkling beneath him as the cool breeze from the barely open window stirred the quiet room. Pale moonlight poured in through the sheer curtains, casting silver streaks across the floor, his desk, and finally across his face—softening the boyish features now painted in wonder.
He stared up at the ceiling, but his mind was far from it. His green eyes, wide with thought, sparkled faintly under the moon’s glow, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Slowly, without even realizing it, his hand drifted to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt right over where his heart was thudding gently against his ribs. The warmth of the memory spread through him like a whisper.
Your voice echoed in his ears—the kindness in your tone, the way your fingers had cupped his cheeks like he mattered. Like you saw something in him that no one else did.
His blush deepened, blooming across his cheeks even though no one could see it in the dark. But it was there, bright and burning, all for you.
You had looked at him with soft eyes. You had smiled at him like he was worth something. You were so kind and sweet. His fingers curled tighter over his heart, the faintest tremble in his hand.
You weren’t just nice. You weren’t just beautiful. You were something out of reach, something dazzling.
While this is an 'x reader' fanfic, it's really hard to write it fully in that style (completely neutral). So, just so you all know, I decided to make the reader/___/y/n (whatever you want to call the MC) have a similar personality to, for example,: Tomie (junji ito), Jessica Lovejoy (The Simpsons), Regina George (Mean Girls, 2000s). This means she'll be cunning, manipulative, deceiving, ambitious, charming, and seemingly sweet. Her quirk is heavily inspired on Atom Eve's power (from Invincible), and that might make her a bit OP, but I'll try not to.
If anyone dislikes her personality, her quirk, or the fact she's a female, find another fanfic, simple as that. Other than that;
--- Mild & graphic descriptions of violence and gore.
--- Themes of death
--- Yandere tendencies/behaviour
--- Toxic behaviour
With that being said, read at your own risk and enjoy.
[Name] is a ghost. Well, sort of. She can interact with the world around her, she can’t be seen by wizards nor witches, and she ages as time passes. For a while, she floated through life isolated and confused. But what happens when [Name] meets someone who can actually see her, a wizard by the name of Harry Potter.
➸ real boy (saiki k x reader)
Saiki Kusuo is an enigma in [Name]’s eyes. He’s so unbothered by the world around him, it’s almost as if he isn’t human. [Name], a cunning young girl who can practically get anything she wants out of a person, begins to find herself obsessed with the boy, wanting to see him laugh, cry, show any kind of emotion. As her obsession grows and grows, Saiki finds it harder to keep his secrets hidden, and [Name] has no plans of stopping until she gets what she wants.
➸ compulsive gamber (bnha various x reader)
[under construction]
*grandmaster has been scrapped and replaced with compulsive gambler
➸ fashionista (stardew valley various x reader)
After losing almost all of her money following a career-damaging lawsuit, [Name] [Lastname], known as Emory Diva in the fashion world, joins her sister in a small town called Stardew Valley.
