Hi everyone! Welcome to my garden. Unlike most gardens, you won't find it filled with flowers or butterflies. Instead, you'll find one-shots and shot-stories based off of my longer fics along with chapters that were deleted from my longer fics.
Sto...
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🌸Before You Read🌸
🌸This story was written as a gift for sd1229 for being a fabulous friend and always being there to lend a helping hand. I'm not always good at showing gratitude towards my friends, so I hope this cute little one-shot shows how much I love and appreciate that you are my friend.
🌸This one-shot, admittedly, was inspired by a tik-tok. I won't say what that was about or share it to prevent spoilers. I just remember watching it and being like, "oh my gosh! That'd SO be the Sakori family!"
🌸These are all FICTIONAL events as Sakura and Mori come from different time periods in the MHA universe. Still doesn't prevent us from shipping them or imagining what their kids would be like😅
🌸I think that is everything! I hope you all enjoy!
🌸First Crush🌸
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My lips hummed as I knelt down beside the potted plant sitting just outside the back of my home before my fingers dabbed the dry soil. It was as I had expected as it was time for it to be watered, but I continued to hum all the same as I reached for the small mason jar filled with water. All the plant needed was some water, and then, within the next month, it would grow some plump strawberries for everyone to enjoy.
Well, that was if my husband could actually let them grow this year. I chuckled at the thought. He wasn't patient enough to let them grow into their fullest potential. If he did, they would be ripe enough to make into a strawberry jam or maybe even a strawberry pie. I had the recipes for both from my moms, but it was never the same as someone wouldn't allow me to use the fresh, homemade strawberries. He would claim otherwise, but they were all gone before they were ready.
I giggled at the thought moments before something tugged on my shirt. My hand lowered the mason jar down, so I could turn my head to see my youngest, Kana, standing there. Her dark hair was fashioned in cornrows, and pulled back in two twin buns that propped on top of her head.
Yet, as cute as she was, her dark eyes refused to look me in the eyes.
"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, adjusting myself to kneel into a position to look her directly in the eye.
