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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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Greenwashing set Canada on fire

On September 22, I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

As a teenager growing up in Ontario, I always envied the kids who spent their summers tree planting; they'd come back from the bush in September, insect-chewed and leathery, with new muscle, incredible stories, thousands of dollars, and a glow imparted by the knowledge that they'd made a new forest with their own blistered hands.

I was too unathletic to follow them into the bush, but I spent my summers doing my bit, ringing doorbells for Greenpeace to get my neighbours fired up about the Canadian pulp-and-paper industry, which wasn't merely clear-cutting our old-growth forests – it was also poisoning the Great Lakes system with PCBs, threatening us all.

At the time, I thought of tree-planting as a small victory – sure, our homegrown, rapacious, extractive industry was able to pollute with impunity, but at least the government had reined them in on forests, forcing them to pay my pals to spend their summers replacing the forests they'd fed into their mills.

I was wrong. Last summer's Canadian wildfires blanketed the whole east coast and midwest in choking smoke as millions of trees burned and millions of tons of CO2 were sent into the atmosphere. Those wildfires weren't just an effect of the climate emergency: they were made far worse by all those trees planted by my pals in the eighties and nineties.

Writing in the New York Times, novelist Claire Cameron describes her own teen years working in the bush, planting row after row of black spruces, precisely spaced at six-foot intervals:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/15/opinion/wildfires-treeplanting-timebomb.html

Cameron's summer job was funded by the logging industry, whose self-pegulated, self-assigned "penalty" for clearcutting diverse forests of spruce, pine and aspen was to pay teenagers to create a tree farm, at nine cents per sapling (minus camp costs).

Black spruces are made to burn, filled with flammable sap and equipped with resin-filled cones that rely on fire, only opening and dropping seeds when they're heated. They're so flammable that firefighters call them "gas on a stick."

Cameron and her friends planted under brutal conditions: working long hours in blowlamp heat and dripping wet bulb humidity, amidst clouds of stinging insects, fingers blistered and muscles aching. But when they hit rock bottom and were ready to quit, they'd encourage one another with a rallying cry: "Let's go make a forest!"

Planting neat rows of black spruces was great for the logging industry: the even spacing guaranteed that when the trees matured, they could be easily reaped, with ample space between each near-identical tree for massive shears to operate. But that same monocropped, evenly spaced "forest" was also optimized to burn.

It burned.

The climate emergency's frequent droughts turn black spruces into "something closer to a blowtorch." The "pines in lines" approach to reforesting was an act of sabotage, not remediation. Black spruces are thirsty, and they absorb the water that moss needs to thrive, producing "kindling in the place of fire retardant."

Cameron's column concludes with this heartbreaking line: "Now when I think of that summer, I don’t think that I was planting trees at all. I was planting thousands of blowtorches a day."

The logging industry committed a triple crime. First, they stole our old-growth forests. Next, they (literally) planted a time-bomb across Ontario's north. Finally, they stole the idealism of people who genuinely cared about the environment. They taught a generation that resistance is futile, that anything you do to make a better future is a scam, and you're a sucker for falling for it. They planted nihilism with every tree.

That scam never ended. Today, we're sold carbon offsets, a modern Papal indulgence. We are told that if we pay the finance sector, they can absolve us for our climate sins. Carbon offsets are a scam, a market for lemons. The "offset" you buy might be a generated by a fake charity like the Nature Conservancy, who use well-intentioned donations to buy up wildlife reserves that can't be logged, which are then converted into carbon credits by promising not to log them:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/12/fairy-use-tale/#greenwashing

The credit-card company that promises to plant trees every time you use your card? They combine false promises, deceptive advertising, and legal threats against critics to convince you that you're saving the planet by shopping:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/17/do-well-do-good-do-nothing/#greenwashing

The carbon offset world is full of scams. The carbon offset that made the thing you bought into a "net zero" product? It might be a forest that already burned:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/11/a-market-for-flaming-lemons/#money-for-nothing

The only reason we have carbon offsets is that market cultists have spent forty years convincing us that actual regulation is impossible. In the neoliberal learned helplessness mind-palace, there's no way to simply say, "You may not log old-growth forests." Rather, we have to say, "We will 'align your incentives' by making you replace those forests."

The Climate Ad Project's "Murder Offsets" video deftly punctures this bubble. In it, a detective points his finger at the man who committed the locked-room murder in the isolated mansion. The murderer cheerfully admits that he did it, but produces a "murder offset," which allowed him to pay someone else not to commit a murder, using market-based price-discovery mechanisms to put a dollar-figure on the true worth of a murder, which he duly paid, making his kill absolutely fine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/14/for-sale-green-indulgences/#killer-analogy

What's the alternative to murder offsets/carbon credits? We could ask our expert regulators to decide which carbon intensive activities are necessary and which ones aren't, and ban the unnecessary ones. We could ask those regulators to devise remediation programs that actually work. After all, there are plenty of forests that have already been clearcut, plenty that have burned. It would be nice to know how we can plant new forests there that aren't "thousands of blowtorches."

If that sounds implausible to you, then you've gotten trapped in the neoliberal mind-palace.

The term "regulatory capture" was popularized by far-right Chicago School economists who were promoting "public choice theory." In their telling, regulatory capture is inevitable, because companies will spend whatever it takes to get the government to pass laws making what they do legal, and making competing with them into a crime:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/13/public-choice/#ajit-pai-still-terrible

This is true, as far as it goes. Capitalists hate capitalism, and if an "entrepreneur" can make it illegal to compete with him, he will. But while this is a reasonable starting-point, the place that Public Choice Theory weirdos get to next is bonkers. They say that since corporations will always seek to capture their regulators, we should abolish regulators.

They say that it's impossible for good regulations to exist, and therefore the only regulation that is even possible is to let businesses do whatever they want and wait for the invisible hand to sweep away the bad companies. Rather than creating hand-washing rules for restaurant kitchens, we should let restaurateurs decide whether it's economically rational to make us shit ourselves to death. The ones that choose poorly will get bad online reviews and people will "vote with their dollars" for the good restaurants.

And if the online review site decides to sell "reputation management" to restaurants that get bad reviews? Well, soon the public will learn that the review site can't be trusted and they'll take their business elsewhere. No regulation needed! Unleash the innovators! Set the job-creators free!

This is the Ur-nihilism from which all the other nihilism springs. It contends that the regulations we have – the ones that keep our buildings from falling down on our heads, that keep our groceries from poisoning us, that keep our cars from exploding on impact – are either illusory, or perhaps the forgotten art of a lost civilization. Making good regulations is like embalming Pharaohs, something the ancients practiced in mist-shrouded, unrecoverable antiquity – and that may not have happened at all.

Regulation is corruptible, but it need not be corrupt. Regulation, like science, is a process of neutrally adjudicated, adversarial peer-review. In a robust regulatory process, multiple parties respond to a fact-intensive question – "what alloys and other properties make a reinforced steel joist structurally sound?" – with a mix of robust evidence and self-serving bullshit and then proceed to sort the two by pantsing each other, pointing out one another's lies.

The regulator, an independent expert with no conflicts of interest, sorts through the claims and counterclaims and makes a rule, showing their workings and leaving the door open to revisiting the rule based on new evidence or challenges to the evidence presented.

But when an industry becomes concentrated, it becomes unregulatable. 100 small and medium-sized companies will squabble. They'll struggle to come up with a common lie. There will always be defectors in their midst. Their conduct will be legible to external experts, who will be able to spot the self-serving BS.

But let that industry dwindle to a handful of giant companies, let them shrink to a number that will fit around a boardroom table, and they will sit down at a table and agree on a cozy arrangement that fucks us all over to their benefit. They will become so inbred that the only people who understand how they work will be their own insiders, and so top regulators will be drawn from their own number and be hopelessly conflicted.

When the corporate sector takes over, regulatory capture is inevitable. But corporate takeover isn't inevitable. We can – and have, and will again – fight corporate power, with antitrust law, with unions, and with consumer rights groups. Knowing things is possible. It simply requires that we keep the entities that profit by our confusion poor and thus weak.

The thing is, corporations don't always lie about regulations. Take the fight over working encryption, which – once again – the UK government is trying to ban:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/feb/24/signal-app-warns-it-will-quit-uk-if-law-weakens-end-to-end-encryption

Advocates for criminalising working encryption insist that the claims that this is impossible are the same kind of self-serving nonsense as claims that banning clearcutting of old-growth forests is impossible:

https://twitter.com/JimBethell/status/1699339739042599276

They say that when technologists say, "We can't make an encryption system that keeps bad guys out but lets good guys in," that they are being lazy and unimaginative. "I have faith in you geeks," they said. "Go nerd harder! You'll figure it out."

Google and Apple and Meta say that selectively breakable encryption is impossible. But they also claim that a bunch of eminently possible things are impossible. Apple claims that it's impossible to have a secure device where you get to decide which software you want to use and where publishers aren't deprive of 30 cents on every dollar you spend. Google says it's impossible to search the web without being comprehensively, nonconsensually spied upon from asshole to appetite. Meta insists that it's impossible to have digital social relationship without having your friendships surveilled and commodified.

While they're not lying about encryption, they are lying about these other things, and sorting out the lies from the truth is the job of regulators, but that job is nearly impossible thanks to the fact that everyone who runs a large online service tells the same lies – and the regulators themselves are alumni of the industry's upper eschelons.

Logging companies know a lot about forests. When we ask, "What is the best way to remediate our forests," the companies may well have useful things to say. But those useful things will be mixed with actively harmful lies. The carefully cultivated incompetence of our regulators means that they can't tell the difference.

Conspiratorialism is characterized as a problem of what people believe, but the true roots of conspiracy belief isn't what we believe, it's how we decide what to believe. It's not beliefs, it's epistemology.

Because most of us aren't qualified to sort good reforesting programs from bad ones. And even if we are, we're probably not also well-versed enough in cryptography to sort credible claims about encryption from wishful thinking. And even if we're capable of making that determination, we're not experts in food hygiene or structural engineering.

Daily life in the 21st century means resolving a thousand life-or-death technical questions every day. Our regulators – corrupted by literally out-of-control corporations – are no longer reliable sources of ground truth on these questions. The resulting epistemological chaos is a cancer that gnaws away at our resolve to do anything about it. It is a festering pool where nihilism outbreaks are incubated.

The liberal response to conspiratorialism is mockery. In her new book Doppelganger, Naomi Klein tells of how right-wing surveillance fearmongering about QR-code "vaccine passports" was dismissed with a glib, "Wait until they hear about cellphones!"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

But as Klein points out, it's not good that our cellphones invade our privacy in the way that right-wing conspiracists thought that vaccine passports might. The nihilism of liberalism – which insists that things can't be changed except through market "solutions" – leads us to despair.

By contrast, leftism – a muscular belief in democratic, publicly run planning and action – offers a tonic to nihilism. We don't have to let logging companies decide whether a forest can be cut, or what should be planted when it is. We can have nice things. The art of finding out what's true or prudent didn't die with the Reagan Revolution (or the discount Canadian version, the Mulroney Malaise). The truth is knowable. Doing stuff is possible. Things don't have to be on fire.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/16/murder-offsets/#pulped-and-papered

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iguanodont · 5 months

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Meant to make this my final post of the year, but I guess it’ll have to be my first instead! A look at part of a birg end-of-year tradition.

The Wis’Sachoi are a culture far to the west of the Twowi, where they exist fairly peacefully on the coast of a large inland sea. Come autumn the gifters (bachelors) herald the mating season by arriving to clans towns in bulky costumes made of sticks and reeds. They chase kids and animals, knock things over, and sing playfully that life away from the village has made them course and wild; won’t somebody please trim their shaggy hair and crooked claws? Young receivers (the ladies) don spiny cowls of woven branches in a cheeky imitation of the spiked armor worn by beast hunters of legend, to engage the “monsters” in games of song and wordplay. Should the beast court the wrong individual, or insult his quarry, or make too much mischief around the village, the elders are ready to chase him off with sticks. When a “beast” and “hunter” have successfully matched wits, the hunter will approach with beak scissors, so that she may snip away at the reeds covering her partner’s face in a tender gesture of allogrooming. Then her sisters and elders help tear away the rest of the costume, making the suitor fit to live among the clan again. The night ends with the burning of the reeds and a communal meal.

Courtship games such as this are just the first in a series of events held for around nine days, which include bachelors presenting gifts for the children and elders of the village, a fishing contest, and lots of feasting. Many of these gifts arrive in the form of exotic spices and other ingredients collected over the past year of trading abroad. Though it is tradition for courting pairs to consummate on the final night, it is not uncommon for a gifter to offer his spermatophore to several partners before the end of the festival period. After the final night concludes, Wis’Sachoi bachelors are granted the privilege of hibernating with their temporary in-laws.

As birgs generally sleep through the winter, fall and early-winter events such as these are the closest most cultures come to the sort of midwinter holidays observed on earth.

—————

For more worldbuilding (mostly creature) posts or to see what im up to on discord, I do have a patreon, where I post weekly!

I also have new stickers up on my kofi, or you can get prints of my art here, for those interested!

#birgworld #worldbuilding #birdbugs #speculative biology #xenofiction #first post of 2024 let’s gooo

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ghost-1-y · 7 months

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Sacrifice

Surtr!Kyojuro x AFAB!Worshipper!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, masturbation (Kyo), getting caught masturbating (Kyo), knotting, Kyojuro is in heat, Kyo has a massive breeding kink, lactation kink (Kyo loves your titties), size kink, pregnancy kink, pregnancy (at the end), using horns as handles, implied belly bulging, mommy kink (reader referred to as both “mommy” and “mother”), love confessions at the very end, douma being an asshole, incorrect interpretation of norse mythology, reader is given as a human sacrifice to Kyo, mentions of animal sacrifice, reader referred to as “pretty girl” sometimes, please lmk if I missed anything!

Summary: The legends stated that the mighty fire giant would one day bring about the beginnings of Ragnarok and engulf the world in flames. You had been told of these prophecies since childhood and were a firm believer in appeasing the proclaimed Ruler of Fire through worship and sacrifice – just as you had been taught by the village elders since you were a mere child. What you didn’t expect, however, was for the village to turn their back on you and suggest that what would be needed would be a human sacrifice to appease the giant once and for all.

Word Count: ~6k

Divider Credit: @/benkeibear

A/N: So sorry this took so long!! I've had a mess of a week so far. I hope the fic is worth the wait! Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors (I tried my best).

A fire blazed in the heart of the village, crackling with embers floating gracefully and smoke ebbing above the tallest of houses – its heat a sharp contrast to the bitter cold of the autumn night. Members of the village surrounded the bonfire, sitting with their families as they feasted, bellies full with the meat stew that was provided for them. A single bowl was left untouched amongst each family – a welcoming invitation for the dead to engage in the festivities that were part of Vetrnætr.

As chieftain, you engaged with the families, wishing them good health and happiness as they did the same for you, before engaging in sumbel with them as you poured wine onto the grass below.

“Freyr will be most pleased by your worship.”

In a way of parting from families, you’d praise their good faith before moving on to the next family. The smiles were abundant amongst the villagers, and, once you’d made your way fully around the bonfire, you removed your sword from your scabbard and raised it high into the air.

“Today we celebrate, and are thankful to the god Freyr for a wonderful harvest. Please join me in this sacrifice, in order to show our thanks to the deities of all the Nine Realms.”

However, before you could commit to the sacrifice – the poor lamb that was before you – a cold hand gripped at your shoulder, which made you turn in confusion.

“Perhaps I should tell you, before you engage in such an act, that the priest has some… concerns,” the man – Enmu you believed his name was – whispered. You sighed and sheathed your sword once more, your blood beginning to boil as you’d wondered what he could possibly want in the middle of the village’s celebration.

You trudged your way through the temple that resided on the outskirts of the village. The door creaked open as you walked through, and before you sat the village priest, who sat on a cushion made of feathers and animal skin. He upturned his lips upon seeing you, yet it wasn’t a true smile.

You knew he didn’t know how to, after all.

“Ah! My lovely Chieftain,” Douma drawled, “such a beautiful night to celebrate Vetrnætr, isn’t it? Although, I doubt that Freyr will grant you the beauty or fertility needed to continue your lineage this upcoming year, truly a shame,” he said, faking a pout.

You fought the urge to ball your fists. The village elders, and, apparently now the village priest as well, had been pressing you for a child – particularly a son – however, despite many suitors attempting to lay their claim to the throne, and therefore you, none had been successful.

Despite this jab, you maintained composure, “what do you need from me, Douma? You’ve interrupted the sacrifice.” You stared him down, and he forced a small laugh.

“Oh my, a harsh tongue doesn’t suit you, dear Chief” he sneered, “You see, I have become aware of some rather concerning events – ones surrounding Ragnarök in particular,” he paused, observing you for any kind of reaction, “unfortunately, it seems Surtr has traveled from Muspelheim to Midgard.”

Your eyes widened, “how would he be able to do such a thing? He isn’t a deity–”

“–ah, but he is a jötunn, and therefore would have the ability to travel between the realms,” Douma countered, “did you never pay attention to my lessons during your youth?”

You rolled your eyes, “you speak as though we do not dedicate sacrifices to him with each solstice. You know appeasing his anger is one of my most steadfast beliefs.”

Douma hummed, “well, it appears that you did not follow through with this past solstice, my dear Chieftain – rather dedicating it to Freyr than to Surtr – and, to be completely honest, I am quite disappointed in that fact.”

The door shut behind you, and two warriors stood on either side of you. You grabbed the hilt of your sword, sensing distrust in the air.

“Do you know, Chieftain, what would be required to adequately appease the Ruler of Fire?”

You pulled out your sword and swung at the warrior on your right, an attack which was quickly blocked by his own weapon. You landed a kick to the left one’s stomach, only for it to be trapped in an unwavering grip by the warrior’s arms. You attempted to swing your sword at him in retaliation, only for your arm to also be grabbed by the one on your right.

Douma stood up and walked towards you, gripping your chin – the cold of his skin causing you to wince.

“A proper, human sacrifice.”

A blow landed to the back of your neck, and your vision faded to black.

—

You awoke to a chill that laid upon your skin, feeling as though you were made of ice rather than of flesh. You were completely bare, lying on a wooden floor of what you presumed to be the priest’s sacred temple, as your vision was fully obstructed by a cloth which wrapped around your eyes. Upon moving your arms – which were thankfully in front of you and not behind, you noticed that your wrists were also bound by rope to prevent you from making any potential escape from Douma’s clutches.

Outside, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door swung open – causing you to flinch at the loud creak that sounded from it. A rough hand grabbed at your arm and pulled you up to your feet, forcing you outside where you heard murmurs of villagers on either side of you. Your cheeks flushed deep with embarrassment, the idea of your beloved villagers seeing you in such a state bringing tears to your eyes in pure shame.

“All of you, please say your final goodbyes to our beloved Chieftain – for she has volunteered to become the sacrifice that will appease Surtr and end his threats of Ragnarök!”

You couldn’t hear the cheers of your people over your pulse pounding in your ears, completely helpless as you were all but dragged along the dirt and gravel pathway before being placed on a horse. A faint rustling could be heard before you felt a rope tied around your neck.

“Be careful not to fall off, my dear Chieftain, lest your neck snap as you’re dragged along the rugged terrain by your horse,” Douma whispered to you before saddling himself onto a separate horse, and you could only assume that this rope was also tied to the horse in some way, thus forcing you to go wherever Douma led you.

You begrudgingly held tight against the horse’s mane as it went into a trot, the wind blowing harshly against your naked skin as the voices of the villagers slowly faded away, replaced by the clopping of hooves as you traversed to a place unfamiliar.

The horses did not stop, and you could only tell the passage of time as the cool of night gave way to the blazing heat of the sun that seared itself into your back. Hours must have passed, and your muscles grew sore the longer you traveled.

At some point, the horses slowed, and the sun’s heat was obstructed by a shadow which loomed above you. Again, a faint rustling could be heard before you were taking off of the horse’s back – yet the rope stayed wrapped around your neck, yet it was no longer taut if you tried pulling away from the horse’s body. You were dragged into the cool shadow, before a hand gripped at your hair.

“Such a shame you never produced a son,” Douma muttered into your ear, “you wouldn’t have to die if you were nice and fertile, my dear Chieftain.”

You could only imagine the nasty grin on his face as he pushed you forward, causing you to lose your footing and fall what could’ve been roughly two meters before hitting solid rock. You heard laughter above you before it started to fade away.

Luckily, the fall seemed to loosen the cloth which covered your eyes, allowing you to see out of one of them, yet you doubted it would be of much help as you got your bearings and realized that you were indeed alone in a dark cave, being left to starve and rot as a form of sacrifice to Surtr.

You decided, that if you were going to die anyway, that you’d at least explore the cave you were pushed into.

It was dark, yet not damp, the stone beneath you as dry as the walls that surrounded you, and you wondered if the sun somehow reached its way into the depths of this cave to evaporate the moisture. There was no life, not a single lizard or insect to be seen – although a few animal bones would be strewn about here and there as you continued your descent further into the cave.

You traversed further, being careful to not trip over any rocks or pitfalls. After what seemed to be an hour of exploration, you saw the tiniest spark of light in the distance.

Perhaps a way out? You thought, and walked closer to this flickering light, and the rather narrow tunnel you were in gave way to a large cavern – with a large bonfire in the middle, one much larger than the one in your village during the celebration of Vetrnætr.

Unlike the blazing heat of the sun from earlier, the warmth of the bonfire was comforting, with its orange hue flickering along the walls of the cavern.

As you got closer, you heard the slightest shifting from the other side of the cavern, followed by what could only be described as a low growl. You froze, unsure of how to proceed in front of a potential predator with nothing to defend yourself with. You slowly crouched and walked towards the bonfire, and, despite your hands being tied, managed to pick up one of the smaller logs on the outer ring of the fire before dousing the tip of it in flames – a weapon, should you need to use it.

As you slowly walked around the bonfire, you found a rather peculiar sight – realizing that the growl did not come from the likes of an animal.

But who– or what was before you was certainly not human.

The being before you was huge, possibly even a jötunn. You were never one to doubt your beliefs, but the idea that a creature from another realm was before your very eyes was difficult to swallow. However, from what you could remember from your religious texts, a jötunn is the only creature you could bring yourself to categorize it as.

The creature had large, curved horns that were sizable in their girth, and its tusks – not fangs – emerged up from its lower jaw. What’s more, it had pointed ears on either side of its head which emerged through hair resembling that of fire, locks that matched the finest gold and ruby gemstones that would cost a fortune in your village.

Unlike the face, its body looked quite human – although its very naked form boasted large, dense muscles throughout its entire body, and a cock that made you swallow absentmindedly from just how threatening its size was.

The creature was stroking its girth, thumbing itself over the leaking slit – a slight shudder escaping from its throat. It started to fuck itself into its grip, thrusting quickly as though chasing its release. Its other hand was fondling its balls – which looked heavy and full of seed, before having its hand move slightly upward towards the slightly swollen base of its cock, softly massaging it to seemingly ease the tension it caused.

Fully flushed with embarrassment, you backed away from the creature before you, each step seemingly calculated in order to escape this situation.

Is the creature sentient? It seems to be humanoid– does that mean it can think like a human? What if it’s a predator and kills me?

Thoughts rushed through your mind, seemingly going into a frenzy as you worried about potential outcomes of this situation.

Crack!

In your panic, you managed to step on a stray twig that managed to stray from the center of the bonfire.

The creature stopped its movements, and immediately turned its head to the source of the sound.

Its amber and crimson eyes opened and glared into yours.

“F-Fuck—!”

With one glance over your naked form, the creature before you released its seed, spilling it all over its fist and shaft, with the remaining drops dribbling onto its lower abdomen. It continued to slowly rub its fist up and down its length, closing its eyes as it played with its tip up until the last of its cum dribbled out from the slit, before tensing and looking back at you, eyes widening in shock – as though it couldn’t believe you were actually there.

“I’m sorry!” the creature exclaimed, a blush so red blooming across its cheeks that it seemingly felt the same amount of embarrassment as you. It hastily wiped itself clean on the furred animal skin it was laying upon. “I– I can explain, really– just– who are you? Why are you here?”

You were in shock, so much so that you couldn’t even eke out a full sentence. Your eyes drifted down to its cock once more, which – much to your surprise – was still standing incredibly tall and proud as it curved up towards the creature’s stomach. Heat prickled across your cheeks and down your chest as the fiery-haired being used its hands to cover itself up in front of you – sensing that you might be uncomfortable from bearing witness to such an event.

This is ridiculous, you thought, you are the Chieftain of your village – compose yourself!

“I am Y/N, leader of my village and child of a family of famed warriors,” you introduced yourself.

The creature raised an eyebrow to you in response.

“And what exactly brings a village leader into my cave?”

You hesitated, humiliation flooding your veins even more so than before.

“I– I was overthrown by the village priest and have been made a sacrifice to Surtr, the Ruler of Fire.”

You expected laughter from the jötunn before you, closing your eyes to hide whatever dignity you had left from what Douma stripped from you. However, instead of hearing a cacophony of hearty noises from the creature’s throat, you instead heard the thud of footsteps approaching you.

Slowly, the jötunn reached forward and removed the bandages which obstructed your vision, loosening and pulling them away with his large fingers, careful to not touch you unnecessarily in the process.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at the giant, his eyes surprisingly kind as he looked down at you. He bunched the bandages in his hands before tossing them to the side, then continued untie the ropes that were digging into your wrists and cast them aside as well.

“If what you say is true, please inform your village that I do not take human sacrifices.”

Your heart seemed to have traveled up to your throat, its beats both fast and fluttery.

“That would imply that I could go back– wait, what are you talking about?”

Then, the creature did finally let out a laugh – a small chuckle that rose from his chest and was deep and bassy as it rose through his throat.

“My dear human, I am the one you people refer to as Surtr.”

You stopped, instinctively stepping back – away from the creature that just claimed to be the harbinger of destruction – the one to bring flames that will engulf all nine realms and Yggdrasil itself.

You did what you believed best, and forced your body to the rocky floor of the cave, bowing in absolute submission and respect for such a being – nearly cowering in the presence of such raw power presented before you.

“Stand up, please, there’s no need for that here.”

You looked up at the being before you, rather confused by his words.

He sighed, “you humans have beliefs of me that are so far from the truth, it’s saddening.”

A pause, the only sound in the cavern being the crackling of the wood against flames.

“My real name is Kyojuro, the name ‘Surtr’ is a title bestowed upon me that I did not wish to receive. I am not going to harm you or your village, I do not wish for such evil. Whatever “priest” thought that a human sacrifice would appease this nonexistent will of mine is, to put simply, a fool.”

You let out a shaky breath, and he reached out his hand – one that dwarfed your own – toward you.

“Stand up.”

He was smiling as you took his hand, with a gaze that was comforting and kind as he sent sparks through your skin with his touch.

The prickling heat returned to your cheeks.

“I’ll help you get back to your village,” he promised.

You froze, your heartbeat quickening once more as you registered his words.

“I can’t– please, I can’t go back, not after what they did to me,” you started, preparing yourself to beg and plead this god-like creature for mercy.

Kyojuro frowned, “I understand, but I can’t keep you here. You need to leave, I– I can’t have you stay.”

You knew it was selfish, to leave your people in the hands of Douma, but after what he did to you– after how he humiliated you.

Where the fire in your village was scalding, his was warm. Where those treated you with indifference or malice, he had been nothing but kind.

Was it really worth going back?

“I’d like to stay,” you decided.

Kyojuro stopped, each and every second becoming more and more difficult for the jötunn. Every passing moment he ignored his very obvious problem, he became this much closer to just bending you over and taking you like a wild animal. His blood was hot in his veins, and fire licked at his lower abdomen, pleasure bubbling once more to the surface as he continued to endure his heat.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, human,” he warned. He was using every ounce of his willpower in order to maintain his composure. His heat was going to near its peak soon, and he needed you away from him before that happened. He came to Midgard to weather it alone in his cave, and you were only making it all the more difficult.

“Kyojuro,” you uttered softly, and the creature before you let out a low growl, “will you let me stay if I…help?”

His cock twitched, precum dribbling slowly out of the tip, with the base of it swelling up once more.

“I don’t want you to try and sell yourself to me as though you’re a piece of meat. I–” he swallowed, “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t allow you to do that.”

“Kyojuro, I want to help you. I want this,” you assured, and he balled his hands into fists, as though the rope holding him together was about to snap.

“Y/N–” he warned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Please, fuck me, Kyojuro.”

The jötunn grabbed your arm, “if– if we are to do this, you must know that I am in heat, and I–” he swallowed, “I may not be able to control myself should we continue.”

You took your hand and brushed your fingers across his tightened grip, causing slight shivers to flow down his spine.

“Lose control, Kyojuro, I can take it.”

He groaned, and with his strength, picked you up and collided his lips with yours. Your hands sought either side of his face, kissing back with fervor as he moaned into your mouth. His tusks surprisingly didn’t obstruct your access to his mouth, and every once in a while he’d nip at your bottom lip, before laving his tongue over the swollen skin and pushing it into your mouth. You let out a small moan at the intrusion, and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers finding purchase in his wild, fiery hair.

His grip on your body moved from your hips back towards your ass, cupping and massaging the muscle with his hands. His cock was stiff against your inner thigh, the precum spreading along your skin with each small movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as his cock slipped between your legs and along your slit – the sheer girth of it a little worrisome as it pressed against your heat.

“Shit– so big, Kyojuro, hah–” you panted, and he growled.

“Never had cock this big before, have you? Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get you nice and ready to take me.”

He shifted your weight onto one of his arms, the muscles flexing as he shifted his other hand beneath you. Two of his fingers started rubbing along your clit, making small circular motions as his other hand groped at the fat of your ass. He lifted you up a little more so his mouth was in line with your breasts and pursed his lips around one of your perked up tits, sucking at it and licking broad stripes with his tongue. He groaned around your tit as he played with your pussy, reveling in how wet you were for him already. The mini vibrations sent electricity down your spine, and you moved your head to rest on his broad shoulder, giving small kisses to his neck as you whined from his ministrations.

“Lips feel so good, dear, love it when you kiss me like that,” he sighed, giving kisses to each of your breasts, “want to apologize for my earlier…release, you were just so beautiful…seeing you all naked ‘n presenting for me like that…made me want to breed you, pretty girl,” Kyojuro confessed, causing you to shiver as he softly whispered such filthy thoughts into your ear.

“Mmh– don’t apologize, Kyo– liked watchin’ you,” you admitted, and he let out a light chuckle, which made you lightly slap his rocky chest. He responded by giving a small bite to your breast, before licking it better with his skilled tongue.

“Yeah? You like the idea of me wanting to breed you? Getting you pregnant with my young?” he asked, his fingers moving from your clit down towards your entrance, where he inserted a single thick digit into your heat. You whined as your pussy clenched around the intrusion, and nodded in response, licking a stripe up his neck before kissing back down it again.

His finger thrust into you, curling against that one sensitive area inside of you as his thumb reached for and played with your clit. The moans that you let out echoed throughout the cavern, with the only other sounds being the shlick of Kyojuro’s finger deep in your cunt and the crackling of flames. After a while, he added a second digit, and slowly but surely worked you towards your peak, the tension slowly building up in your gut.

With one last swipe against your clit with his thumb, you came undone, your orgasm causing you to shudder and whine in his hold as he worked you through it, curling his fingers and rubbing your clit as you rode out each wave.

“Kyo–” you moaned, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers, and he smiled before meeting your lips in a heated kiss. He continued thrusting his fingers up into your now weeping cunt, prepping you nice and good to take his much thicker cock.

He walked back toward his makeshift bed – a pile of furs and animal skins which he must’ve collected prior to his heat – and gently placed you down on top of them. His large hands moved down your thighs, rubbing softly up and down your plush skin as he stared at the slick between your legs. He lowered himself between your thighs and inhaled deeply as he tried desperately to memorize your scent. He licked a stripe up your slit, causing you to jolt at the sensation, and moaned as your taste spread over his tongue like honey.

You squirmed underneath his touch, which made him hold your hips in place as he started to devour you. His tongue flicked over your clit before collecting more of your juices on his tongue. Your hands found his horns and gripped them tightly, pushing his head further between your thighs, earning a groan from Kyojuro. He pursed his lips and sucked at your clit before licking at it in circular motions, moving his hand between your legs again and pushing two digits inside your cunt once more, thrusting in and out of your hole with his fingers. After adding a third finger, he started curling his fingers into that one spot again, his movements quick and deft as he brought you to your second orgasm.

You moaned loudly as you came undone, legs shaking as your grip on his horns tightened, trying your best to buck your hips up into his face as he lapped up all of the juices that seeped out of your pussy. Only when you were able to open your eyes once more did you look down to see Kyojuro humping himself onto the fur pelts as he messily gathered the rest of your release onto his tongue.

“Kyo– please, I need you,” you whined, and he looked up at you with a fire ignited in his eyes. He got up, stroking his thick cock as he looked down upon your much smaller form.

“Get on all fours for me.”

Without hesitation, you rolled over and got on your hands and knees. Kyojuro kneeled behind you and placed his cock in between your wet folds, rubbing the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your juices. He shuddered before slowly pushing the head inside, causing you to tense slightly from how big the intrusion was.

“Relax for me, won’t you?” he asked softly.

You tried your best to relax, and he started to push more of his length inside of you, filling you up more than you ever thought possible. For a moment, he stayed like that, relishing in the feeling of your cunt tightly wrapped around his throbbing cock, his hips flush against your ass as you whined for him to move, please.

“Let me have this moment, dear, I– I haven’t felt something this wonderful in centuries,” he confessed, and you let out a soft mewl before complying with what he wanted.

After a few more moments, his cock dragged out of you slowly before thrusting back in. He rocked into you, slowly at first, which was most likely for the better considering how huge he was. He growled as he thrust into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he reached underneath you to hold your stomach, pressing up slightly as he fully fucked his cock into you.

“Shit– you feel that, pretty girl? Feel my cock deep inside you?” he groaned, and you nodded helplessly, letting out a whine as he continued his movements. “Feel so good wrapped around me, so fuckin’ tight f’ me.”

You choked out another moan as he started increasing his speed, his groans becoming more frequent with each thrust. Kyojuro took his hand and gently tilted your chin up so you could look at him.

“Won’t last much longer, pretty girl,” he leaned down and kissed you, “gonna pull out, promise.”

You whined, “no– please, need your cum, Kyo– need it inside.”

He moaned loudly, “you have no idea what you’re asking of me, pretty. You’d end up taking my knot–”

“I want your knot, Kyo! Please give it to me–!”

Kyojuro thrust even harder into your sopping cunt upon hearing that, “fuck, you want my knot? I’ll get you fucking pregnant, fill you up with my young ‘n get your belly all swollen, you sure you want that?”

“Yes! Please Kyo–! Please–”

With a couple last thrusts, Kyojuro shot his seed inside of you, thick ropes painting your insides white and filling you up to the brim. You moaned as you felt the warmth spread deep inside of your cunt, and, before his release could begin to seep out of your pussy, a burning stretch began inside your abused hole. Realizing this is what Kyojuro meant by his knot, you tried to look behind you to catch sight of his cock seemingly expanding inside of your pussy, keeping his cum nicely plugged inside of you.

Kyojuro was panting, his voice rough as he pulled you up onto his lap.

“Good fuckin’ girl, taking my knot so well.” He looked down at your chest as you sat in his lap, his cock still rock hard and throbbing inside your wet cunt.

“Can’t wait to see these breasts filled with milk, gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you?” he said before taking one of your tits in his mouth and sucking at it, as though he were trying to get you to produce milk already for him, and eventually his young, to feed on.

“Kyo, I– I’m sorry, but I’m not fertile, I– I’ve never been able to produce an heir with another man,” you sighed, and his eyes looked up to meet yours. “I’m really sorry, it’s why I was thrown down here in the first place” you continued, hoping your words wouldn’t anger him.

Instead of becoming angry, he simply placed you back down on the fur pelts and brought your legs up towards your shoulders so that you were folded completely in half. He then crouched over you, keeping you locked in a mating press with him.

“I’m no simple man, my dear human,” he kissed your lips, “if I say I will breed you and fill you with my young–” he paused, thrusting deeply into your cunt.

“–I mean every single word.”

Kyojuro started fucking into you with renewed fervor, his stamina seemingly having increased despite already releasing inside of you once. His cock reached deeper inside of you, and you could swear you felt him all the way in your throat. Every single thrust of his hips had you a whining mess, taking his knot until your pussy molded into the shape of his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, take it all,” he groaned before pressing his mouth to yours once more. His tongue plunged past your lips – prompting you to suck on it, causing him to fall over the edge again, his hips stilling as he pumped a second load of cum into your needy cunt. You whined as he didn’t stop – continuing to fuck into your abused cunt despite cumming twice, his cock still stiff and leaking with every thrust. You felt his seed sloshing around in your womb, feeling so incredibly full by both his cum and his fat cock.

“Mine,” he growled while pumping himself into you, “you’re fucking mine.”

You could only nod and whine in response, having been completely fucked dumb by his cock.

“Pregnant.” He pummeled his cock deep into your cunt, “getting you pregnant. Fuck. Gonna have a round belly filled with my young, tits swelling with milk, I’ll keep you here – gonna be the mother to my children, gonna treat mommy so well, hunt for you, protect you, everything you could ever want.”

You moaned, your cunt clenching around his cock upon listening to his promises.

“Wan’ it,” you managed, “wan’ to be a good mommy so– fuck– so bad.”

Kyojuro groaned, his cock twitching inside of you as it swelled even more. “Can’t stop thinking of my young suckling on your breasts, tits producing so much milk that all of them have their fill– shit, gonna cum again, gonna fill you up– fuck!”

He spilled into you once more, filling your cunt up completely with his seed, ensuring that it takes, making good on his promise. His fingers flicked at your clit and your own orgasm came crashing down around you, pure euphoria flowing through your veins as you let out a silent scream from the seemingly endless waves of pleasure addling your mind.

Kyojuro rolled over and had you collapse on top of him, his arms reaching around your torso and holding you close.

“Did you mean what you said? About wanting to stay?” he whispered, slight insecurity being carried through his tone.

You gave him a quick peck to his lips, “yes, Kyojuro, you– you’ve been so kind to me, much more than anyone else in that damned village. I’d love to stay with you.”

He smiled softly at you, his eyes glowing with warmth as he cradled your head into his neck, petting at your hair as the two of you fell asleep next to the flickering bonfire.

—

A few months had passed, and you were waiting for your lover to return from his hunt. He had promised a large meal today, and you were excited to see what he had planned for the two of you.

You rubbed your baby bump as you cozied up next to the fire, resting in a heap of animal furs which acted as bedding for the two of you. You were surprised to find out that you were pregnant, but Kyojuro had sensed it about a month after you two had first met, and proceeded to treat you as though every step you took turned the rocks beneath your feet into gold.

The bump was rather large for only being a few months in, and your breasts were already swelling and leaking with milk, but Kyojuro had told you that it was normal – considering that his young would be half-jötunn. He quelled your fears of labor, saying that he would help you in every way that he possibly could when it came time to have the baby.

After a few hours, Kyojuro came back to the cavern, carrying your meal over his shoulder.

“How is my love doing?” he asked with the biggest smile on his face, causing you to giggle as you attempted to get up to greet him. Kyojuro rushed over to you, ensuring that you don’t so much as lift a finger while carrying his young. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss before dragging your meal to the bonfire and beginning to cook it.

“Mmh– Kyo? Could you help me a little bit, my tits feel so swollen,” you pouted, and his ears damn near perked up at your words.

“Oh? Does mommy need some relief?” he asked teasingly, and you nodded. Kyojuro walked over to you and knelt down, his hands reaching to massage your breasts slowly. He kneaded them and licked at the milk which dribbled out, letting it coat over his tongue. His lips wrapped around one of your tits, and he sucked slowly, moaning as he drank from you. You whined when he moved to the other tit and performed the same actions, relief sinking in the more he suckled the milk out of you.

“Taste so good, pretty girl,” he whispered before getting up again to cook the meat he brought in.

You pouted again, “need you, Kyo, please,” and he laughed.

“You can have me after we eat, does that sound okay?” he compromised, and you sighed but nodded in agreement.

You laid back and rested upon the pile of furs, smiling in contentment as you looked at the two meals that were set out before you.

“I love you, Kyo,” you admitted, unashamed by your feelings as they echoed throughout the cavern.

Kyojuro froze, glancing back at you briefly before continuing to prepare the food, trying his best to hide the blush that traveled across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“I love you, too, my little flame.”

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701

If your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you! Apologies for the inconvenience.

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fiona-my-love · 1 year

Note

I meant general relationship hcs! Can I request for hcs of what they’re like on a date when you're done with my request? Thanks!

What Stolas, Husk, Blitzo, and Alastor are like on dates

Of course! I’ll finish this first since it’s what I thought what you meant originally, so I already made some of it!!

Stolas

- Oh my! You want to go out with him? Well, then he might as well prepare an entire festival for you!!

- But in all seriousness, he’s quite over the top. But at the end of the day, he kind of prefers to stay indoors and just decorate.

- But it’s pretty 50/50, depends on his mood! He’ll either treat you to a fancy restaurant or just decorate his dining hall for you, and end the date off with you two heading to the bedroom. ifykyk

- Despite being a horny bastard, he’s quite the gentleman on dates!

- He’ll always be courteous to you, opening each door for you and paying the bill.

- He’s pretty good at giving compliments, you gotta admit. He knows just how to fluster you!

- But say anything back and he’s lovestruck, beet red, and turned on.

- He thinks you look absolutely ravishing, no matter what you wear! You’re his queen/king/royal, how could you not be stunning?

- Very good with small talk, but he can get burnt out if you don’t talk much. Just make sure to seem interested in him and you’ll have a great time!

Blitzo

- He’s.. quite creative, you have to admit!..

- His dates are rarely something as simple as getting lunch. Nono, he wants them to be memorable.

- So, what’s his idea of memorable? Hmm..

- Sneaking into a horse riding class on earth. Murder. Arson. Treason. Theft. Public indecency.

- So yeah.. have fun with that!

- But at the end of the day, one of his favorite things to do with you is just kick back, relax, order some food, and cuddle on the couch while watching shitty romcoms.

- He doesn’t really care what you guys do, honestly. You guys could literally be sky diving and he’d just be happy to be with you.

*LITERALLY FALLING FROM AN AIRPLANE THATS HUNDREDS OF FEET IN THE SKY*

“OH SHI- Hey, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

- But at the same time, he likes it when dates mean something.

- For example, murdering your ex together!

- But seriously, he loves to just spend time with you in places you went to when you were still in the crushing phase.

Alastor

- Oh boy! He’s quite the gentleman, he’ll take you anywhere you want! It’s not like anyone can turn him down!

- Loves dancing with you, he’d absolutely adore to go on a date where you two just dance to his favorite songs!

- He’s always dressed to the nines! And by that, I mean dressed to the 1900s!

- Not particularly a fan of newer fashion. But hey, he’d be more than happy to fetch you some clothing from his time period if you so wish!

- He spoils you absolutely rotten! You are his one and only, after all!

- Oh, what’s that darling? You’d like some dinner? Why, of course! He’d say, before going on a killing spree, on the search for the perfect meat. Only the finest for his beloved!

- Would absolutely melt if you cooked for him.

- He actually enjoys cooking with you! He’s pretty good at cooking, and by that I mean he’s good at cooking people.

- All in all, he’s a classy guy who likes to show his darling the finer parts of this afterlife!

Husk

- Let’s get one thing straight. He’s just not really all that romantic of a guy.

- But hey, if you want to go out, then who is he to deny you?

- He’d be more than happy to spend some of his hard-earned gambling money to treat you to a lovely dinner at the local bar.

- He’s gotta admit, he loves the way you get so happy whenever you go out together.

- And my god does he love to see you dressed up all fancy, just for him. As much as he is a grump, he’s really fell for you!

- If you go shopping together, he’ll act annoyed when he has to help carry your bags, but if you offer to carry them all by yourself he’d act like you’re asking too much of him.

- He also acts reluctant to spend money on you out of embarrassment, but he refuses to let you pay for anything.

- He may be a bit of a gentleman with you, but that doesn’t mean he’s gotta be happy about it!

- He really likes going to bars with you. Shots on him, obviously.

- To give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s really trying to be a gentleman, but don’t expect him to last more that an hour without getting blackout drunk.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months

Note

please do something with peter parker for vday. I miss you writing for him

I started writing this one last year for Valentine's Day...forgive me for the long wait

—

‘’No, you don’t understand, Ned. It needs to be perfect,’’ Peter explained, turning to his best friend for help.

‘’My longest and only relationship lasted about sixty hours, so I’m not really the one to come to for Valentine’s Day gift ideas.’’

‘’Uncle Ben always gave May flowers and chocolate.’’ And Peter always tried to steal chocolate from the box. ‘’But Y/N is Mr. Stark’s daughter, I can’t just buy her flowers and chocolate. She’ll think I’m poor.’’

‘’Didn’t you tell me this morning that you only have five dollars in your pockets?’’ Ned recalled, taking one of the homemade cookies his lola had put into his lunch bag and taking a bite. There was one for Peter too, but he was too busy worrying and panicking.

Peter groaned and hid his face in his crossed arms, frustrated and desperate. Being broke was a second problem to his Valentine’s Day plan. ‘’What am I gonna do? Valentine’s Day is in two days. I can’t not get her anything.’’

‘’If you go back to the roots of Valentine’s Day, it’s about celebrating love. You don’t have to spend money to show someone you love them.’’ Peter opened his mouth, but Ned spoke first. ‘’Even if she’s a Stark and bathes in money,’’ he added. ‘’She didn’t fall in love with you because of your economic status, she fell in love because of who you are.’’

On the big day, Peter set everything up in his living room. May was on a date with Happy, so he had the apartment to himself — until 10pm. He didn’t have a projector, so he made one with a shoebox and a magnifying glass, and hung a sheet to one of the walls to turn into a screen. He made cheese pastas and brought over the single chocolate cupcake he was able to afford.

He was nervous, constantly checking his phone waiting for your ‘I’m here’ text. When he finally got it, Peter rushed to the door, smoothing his button up and fixing his hair before opening. If he was this nervous for Valentine’s Day, he didn’t want to imagine the nervous wreck he would be at his wedding.

Not that he was planning on getting married anytime soon.

‘’Happy Valentine’s Day,’’ you said with a smile on your glossy lips.

Peter said the words back and let you in, gulping when his eyes fell on the small gift bag you were holding. You set it down on the table to take off your coat and boots, revealing a pink sweater and a sparkly necklace that cost probably more than anything in May's apartment.

You followed Peter to the living room, excitement bubbling in your stomach when seeing the frozen image of your favorite rom-com projected on the wall. ‘’You made this?’’

Peter gave you a small nod. Projectors were easy to make. He learned how in a science book for kids when he was nine. May was so impressed when he showed her his ‘magic box’.

‘’It’s not much, but—’’ he started to say, but you shut him up with a kiss.

‘’Stop it,’’ you said, guessing his train of thoughts. ‘’This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever.’’

You never had another valentine before him — beside the little boys in middle school who sent you cards and heart lollipops —, but Peter’s gift came from the heart. It was thoughtful and personal, therefore meant a lot to you.

After eating the pastas, you handed Peter the gift bag. He was nervous just from holding it.

He slowly pulled out the festive tissue papers and groaned when seeing a red and blue plush toy. ‘’Spiderman? Really?’’ Peter made an annoyed face. He didn't want to come off as ungrateful, but he was getting tired of the jokes with the Spiderman merch he had no control over.

‘’Press his chest,’’ you instructed, ignoring his complaints.

Peter gave you a confused look, but listened. ‘’I love you, my Spidey,’’ the toy said.

You watched his expressions shift from confusion to surprise, Peter’s eyes widening when he recognized the sound of your voice. A genuine smile spread across his face, the small plush taking a whole other meaning. ‘’That's your voice,’’ he whispered, still holding the talking Spiderman plush.

You nodded, the sparks in Peter’s eyes telling you that no expensive gift could have matched this one. He was truly touched. ‘’I know you don’t like when I get you expensive things, so I didn’t get you a new watch,’’ you explained, thinking back at the Cartier watch you hesitated on last week. He would have hated it.

Turning toward you, Peter enveloped you in a hug to properly thank you.

Your arms wrapped around him in return. ‘’Even when I’m not with you, you’ll always have something to remind you that I love you.’’

—

Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife @amithesimpoffandoms @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation @aabananaa @starrrslove @angeliod @nmedina8611 @1stevelacyfan @yourfavdummy @laylasbunbunny @slytherhoes @pedrosprincess @luvvtxinityy @Eddiefrickenmunson @wandaswigglywoos @mikaelsonsstuff @tcddszn @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @popeheywardssecretgf @kattybug @loverofdrewstarkey @sl4sh3rfuck3r @luci1fer @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @t-candy @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @mymultiveres @hopeurokays @not-liah @beth-gallagher22 @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking @rubyliquor @Danniackerman @angelxxrose @angelxxrose @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe @hoeforsirius @secretsthathauntus @sarcasm-and-stiles

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #marvel #spiderman #tom!peter parker x reader

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realtalkswithfinn · 5 months

Text

Christmas at the Compound

Avengers x reader

Summary: Avengers x reader Christmas head cannons because I am a sucker for the found family trope.

a/n: I tried to get this up before christmas but totally spaced it, so… tale it as a christmas morning gift! I tried to make it as age neutral as possible, so it could totally be teen!reader or not.

The holidays are a tough time for the Avengers.

Most of them have lost family members or friends, and the idea of celebrating anything is extremely difficult.

Tony especially - he always gets gloomy around the Holidays.

He always says something along the lines of, "I don't actually care about this, but its social convention."

But secretly he cares a lot.

He overcompensates for his lack of affection throughout the year by buying everyone the expensive gifts he knows they want but could never justify spending on themselves.

At surface level, it just seems like “oh rich guy is spending rich guy money”

But they’re actually really thoughtful gifts

Like last year, he got Peter a new laptop for school.

He bought Bucky new and thick clothes since all of his were old and worn.

He upgraded Clints cellular data so he could talk to his family anywhere.

Things like that.

Sam and Rhodey take one for the team and string the christmas lights on the tower

“It’s too cold for this.” Sam would complain, the sharp wind nipping at his cheeks as he flew from one end of the building to the other, lights in tow.

“Come one man, where’s your christmas spirit?” Rhodey would laugh

“I’m just doing this so stark’s power bill goes up.”

it really was worth it seeing the tower lit up top to bottom though

Wanda LIVES for commercialized American Christmas

"We have to make gingerbread houses and go to Rockefeller to see the Christmas tree and we have to go out to the snow and go sledding-"

She demands family Christmas photos be taken, even though you don't really have anyone to send them to.

This years theme was christmas pjs

Which lead to a few very interesting viral videos of the avengers in an Old Navy

“Tony come on the reindeer ones are cute!”

“Bruce. A man can not hold onto his masculinity while wearing pjs with dancing reindeer.”

Natasha gets tired of the bellyaching and bickering and makes the final decision

She grabs everyone’s size in the Reindeer pjs and marches to the front of the store

After snagging Tony’s credit card, of course.

Actually taking the picture is a whole other ball game, but that’s a story for another day

Thor has a hard time with the idea of Santa

You try to explain it to him, but it doesn’t seem to help

“So a fat man breaks into the safety of your home late into the night… and you let it happen because he comes baring gifts?”

“Well… yeah.”

“But only to nice children. That he stalks throughout the year.”

“He doesn’t stalk the children he just…”

“Hm.” He squints. “what about the naughty children?”

“They don’t get any presents.”

“OR,” Wanda interjects, “Krampus comes to get them.”

“Is that another fat man in a red disguise?”

“No. He’s a demon sent from hell to eat them.”

Thor nods in approval. “Ah. That’s much more asgardian. A fair reward system for the youth!”

You stare at him. “So… you’re okay with Krampus but not Santa?”

“Well I think they work together well, like a team. Like us!”

“I… I guess…”

Decorating the tree was an all night event

You would help happy bring up what felt like hundreds of boxes of christmas decorations

The tree itself was about 15 feet tall, because it wouldn’t be a holiday at the compound if you guys weren’t extra

It was placed in the living space, right next to a huge wall of windows so all of New York could see your festivity

it had to be decorated to the nines to pass Wanda’s inspection

Not a bare branch

Theres tinsel, ribbons, colorful lights, and hundreds of ornaments

But of course, ladders were a no go

You guys liked a challenge

To reach the higher branches, you and Natasha would stand on Steve and Buckys shoulders

And I mean stand

Not sit

It was a thrilling balancing game

You trusted them to catch you if you fell, but you still had to try to avoid it at all costs to save the tree from certain destruction

Peter would dangle from the ceiling, crawling around to hang ornaments toward the very top

Both of these acts nearly gave Bruce and Vision a heart attack

“CAP, you’re moving to fast shes gunna lose balance-“

“Bruce, please take a breath.”

Meanwhile Thor is getting distracted by all the ornaments and forgetting to actually hang them up

“This one’s a little man of snow! How silly!”

Speaking of ornaments

You all have an ornament of yourself on the tree

Or, your super hero alias at least

There’s a tiny black widow, a little iron man, a bity baby hulk, so on and so forth

Tony always demands his be the highest up on the tree to fuel his god complex

Drawing names out of a hat to see who got to put the star on top of the tree

(except you guys would always rig it behind Wanda’s back, only putting her name in the hat)

She would always protest, insisting to let someone else do it this year, but you guys never relented

So with a big cheesy grin on her face, she would use her magic to delicately place the star on the tippy top

You would think Natasha wouldn’t want to see the Nutcracker Ballet after her time in the red room

But it makes her so happy to see dancing as an art form instead of a way to brainwash young girls

She drags you, Clint, Wanda, and whoever else wants to tag along every year

She even splurges on front row seats

You look over and see her eyes glittering while she watches every turn, leap, and stunt intently

Leaving the theater, she’ll walk on her toes and do a few turns, encouraging you to try as well.

She ends up cackling watching you trip and stumble

“We’ll work on it.”

Can you IMAGINE the ginger bread making contest???

You’re all huddled around the long dining room table with christmas music playing

Theres Clint and Natasha, who just make the classic gingerbread house, no fancy bells or whistles.

Then there’s Bruce,Tony, and Peter who are going absolutely wild building gingerbread sky scrapers and gingerbread hotels.

“Mr. Stark look, I made a working elevator!”

Bruce puts an electric system (fairy lights) through his

Steve and Bucky rebuild their childhood homes

Wanda is going all out, delicately hand placing every candy and covering the whole thing in edible glitter

Visions is pretty similar, but more sleek and modern than Wanda’s

And then there’s Thor, who’s totally missing the point and just DUMPING everything on top

“Hey Peter, I think yours is missing something.”

You string a long thread of white rope candy from his structure to yours.

“Webs!”

“You know… we can probably make a web-like consistency with some starch and frosting…”

That becomes a whole sticky project, but you eventually get it to work, connecting everyone’s gingerbread houses with icing webs

Steve and Bucky are TOTALLY participating in the classic christmas traditions they grew up on.

They sit quietly together in the living room, making paper chains and stringing popcorn

“Do you mind if I join you guys?”

they smile gently. “Of course not.”

You sit crisscross in front of the couch while they teach you

They tell you stories of christmases long, long ago, which feels kinda silly considering they’re talking like grandpas while not appearing much older than you

On Christmas eve, you’re all there except for Clint, who went home to his family

Youre all dressed in your pajamas from the christmas card

You make hot coco and cider

Wanda pops in some old vhs tapes and you watch the classics late into the night

“Alright you nutcrackers,” tony would say around midnight. “I know you want to stay up and catch Santa, but he’s not coming if you all stay awake.”

he really just wanted to go to bed

He sauntered off, calling for lights out.

Most of the boys wandered away to their rooms, leaving you, Wanda, Nat and Thor not quite ready for sleep.

“So,” you ask, taking a sip of coco, “Do you guys think we’re on the naughty list?”

Natasha Chuckled. “I’m not sure. Does beating people up count as naughty if you’re taking down the bad guys?”

Thor set his mug down on the coffee table, the bells on his sweater jingling. “Do not fear ladies, I will catch that nasty Krampus if he comes in to devour your soul. I believe you were doing the right thing.”

You all laughed, thinking he was joking. But he just stared at you.

“Thor… you realize Krampus and Santa aren’t… real?” Wanda asked.

He had a hard time swallowing that.

He ended up sleeping on the couch “just in case”

you woke up at 3 am to a loud clattering coming from the living room

You decided to check it out against your better judgement

There was Thor. Hammer in one hand, cookie in another.

Down the hall toward the elevator was a completely destroyed life-size nutcracker.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought I heard something by the elevator.”

“Congratulations. You murdered the Nutcracker.”

“I feared he was an accomplice of the holiday demon.”

“He’s been there for weeks!”

“He could have been a spy. Or possessed.”

“Goodnight Thor.”

Christmas Morning finally arrived

Everyone was sleeping soundly in their beds

Until Sam decided to be a little shit and wake everyone up at 7 am

He pounded on every. single. bedroom door.

“Y/NNNN. SANTA CAME TO TOWNNNNN.” he sing-songed

“No he didn’t.” You grumbled. “Thor killed him.”

“… I don’t know what that means.”

You all stumble out into the living room

Natasha took the time to actually run a brush through her hair and do her morning skincare

You and wanda were far too excited and skipped over that completely, barely remembering to brush your teeth

Tony looked the roughest - he had a silk robe draped over his pjs and looked like he was just awakened from a coma

Essentially, everyone was a little disheveled

Vision made everyone coffee before you started the gift exchange

You all sat around the coffee table in a circle so everyone could see each other

Bruce and Steve passed out the gifts from under the tree

it took a solid few minutes, there was a MOUNTAIN of presents

You went one at a time opening gifts

Some people think this is awkward, but you felt it was more genuine

this way, everyone can see the gift and the joy on the receivers face

as well as a million “thank you”s

It also gave time for the giver to explain why they chose the gift they did, whether it be something they remembered you said you wanted, something they knew you needed, or even just a simple “this made me think of you”

In the end, you loved all your gifts

And everyone loved what you got for them

But mostly, you were just happy to spend the holiday with your family

476 notes · View notes

maeby-cursed · 5 months

Text

thinking about new year’s eve with toji fushiguro.

the year ends on his birthday, so he’s not accustomed to being celebrated at all. he spends the day sleeping in and paying no mind to the festivities that are taking place outside. he wakes up as he always does and works as he always does and maybe watches some tv before the clock strikes twelve.

except this year ends on a different note. because you’re there.

it’s eleven forty five and he’s lounging on a sofa, staring at the tv with dazed eyes, when you come in, humming a song he’s not familiar with – one that wishes him a happy birthday. you’re holding a small pastry in your hands with a lit candle on top and the fire of it makes you look like a haloed angel.

he sits up on the sofa, and you sit in front of him.

“make a wish,” you whisper. and he knows what to answer.

this. this, forever.

he blows out the candle and you clap a little with a soft smile, and for a split second he forgets about all those shit birthdays and tattered hopes; for a split second he celebrates it all at once: turning five and eleven and twenty-three and thirty-one. all in one blow.

he takes the dessert and splits it in two brusquely – the only way he knows how to do things – before offering you half. you take it with a smile.

soon, it’s eleven fifty-nine and the world looks a little brighter than it did last year at this time. there’s hope. there’s a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach akin to a small child’s illusion. there’s a happiness he never thought he’d get back.

the clock goes

three . . .

two . . .

one .

and with a kiss, the new year starts.

tagging ! @yunymphs + @sugusat0us (biggest maeji supporters ♡)

#˙⋆ 𓂃 ࣪ch. thoughts !#can you tell i love this man ?#it's already 11.30pm over here so i wanted to celebrate two festivities at once ♡#anyways !! happy birthday to the love of my life ! (a drawing)#jjk imagines #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fluff #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you

531 notes · View notes

gglitch1dd · 6 months

Text

A Wishful Time - Part 1

Omega Katsuki x Omega Reader x Alpha Eijiro

Context: In the peaceful village of Yuuie, you and your best friend, Katsuki, hope to catch the eye of the Alpha of your dreams. Kirishima Eijiro.

Note: This story is OMEGAVERSE. This story takes place in a historical non modern setting so please take note of that when it comes to the jobs in society that the characters take and how they act. Bakugou Katsuki is an OMEGA. Reader and him are AFAB but there is no smut this chapter so its unimportant right now

[Masterlist]

You rubbed your eyes as you slowly began to wake up. You carefully looked out the window as the sun began to rise. You let out a soft breath before carefully sitting up. It was another beautiful morning and no doubt that Hisashi would be waking up soon. He was almost like a rooster that way, and just as loud too. You carefully slipped out of your warm nest, moving towards the basin on your dresser. The mirror that sat there faced you as you got ready for your day.

It was almost time for the Spring Festival, which meant a bountiful amount of harvest. It also meant that there was a lot more work to do. It also meant that there was a recent buzz in the air of courting proposals. It was something that all the young Omegas were buzzing about.

You carefully tightened the tie at the back of your dress before grabbing a scarf and slinging it onto your head. You left your bedroom, trying to make much noise on the old wooden floors as you descended to downstairs. Entering the kitchen, you made swift work of grabbing eggs for this morning’s breakfast. Scrambled eggs would have to do for today. You made a mental reminder to make more bread rolls today as you quickly set on preparing breakfast for everyone.

“Oh, Y/N.” You turned around to see Hisashi tying his hair up into a bun. His eyebrows were raised in surprise as he looked around. “You already started breakfast.” He let out in surprise.

You chuckled as you moved a hand down. “Good morning, Hisashi and it’s fine. Really. I don’t mind.” You shrugged it off as you continued on breakfast. “Is Shota and Hitoshi awake?” You asked as you moved to mix in the eggs into a pan.

Hisashi nodded his head. “Yep, Shota should be down any minute and Hitoshi is waking up Eri.” He reported back to you, moving to get water over the fire to boil for tea. You focused on your cooking, trying to make sure that you didn’t burn anything. You hummed to yourself lightly, as the savoury smell of food started to fill the kitchen. “So…” Hisashi leaned his head to look over at you with a light smirk, a glint in his light green eyes. “Any Alpha tickle your fancy just yet?”

You looked over to him in a mixture of shock and confusion. He chuckled at the look on your face. You shook your head. “Oh God, no.”

Hisashi shook his head as he moved to set the table. “Oh I know that’s not true. You’re a young Omega. I’m sure there is at least one Alpha that has you raising a brow.” He stated truthfully putting the plates on the table for the family of five in the house.

As much as you hated to admit it, there was one Alpha above the rest that had capture your attention, a bit too easy in your opinion. He was something you found to be a once in a lifetime type of Alpha. Large build, tall stance, absolutely gorgeous and came from such a big and loving family. He seemed like the perfect Alpha. The perfect Alpha to mate with, to care for you, to give you the whole nine-yards.

But you also thought he was way too out of your league, but man could an Omega dream.

You heard a loud gasp as Hisashi slapped his hands onto your shoulders and turned you to face him with a bright smile. “So there is someone!” He let out excitedly, having noticed the change in your scent. You tried to fight on the flush that threatened to come to your face, as you moved to grab some tea leaves. Before you could even answer,

“If there was, I’d kick their ass before they even got to knock on my door.” Aizawa Shota grumbled as he walked into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. The dark haired Alpha frowned as he walked over to sit in a chair. He let out a yawn as he sat in his chair.

Aizawa had taken you in when you were but a little pup and you parents had passed. Him and Hisashi were unfortunately never able to have pups of their own but they did love all the ones they adopted and took care of. You, Eri and Hitoshi. They were such good parents that you couldn’t help but be so utterly grateful for all they had done for you. He was such a good sire figure to you, no matter how stoic and serious he might seem.

You smiled gently at him as you carefully moved to grab his plate and dish out food for him. Hizashi placed a kiss down on Aizawa’s forehead with a chuckle. “Now don’t be like that Shota.” He stated as he put his hands on his mate’s shoulders. “I’m sure that whichever Alpha came to ask to court Y/N would be worth listening to.” Aizawa let out a disapproving grunt as he stayed as stoic as ever, making Hizashi chuckle as he moved to get a cup of tea ready for the grumpy Alpha (to be fair, Aizawa was always grumpy in the morning).

You carefully made a nice warm plate of eggs and a bun onto his plate before putting it in front of him with a kiss to his forehead. “Good morning.” You greeted him with a gentle smile, before moving to put the same contents on Hizashi’s plate.

“Mornin’” Aizawa grunted out as he started to dive into his breakfast. You shook your head with a chuckle. Alphas were all very much like that. All hungry big packs of muscle and strength, and even Aizawa fell into that category no matter how much he thought otherwise. Aizawa watched you with a spectated gaze as he chewed on the scrambled eggs you made. He moved to grab something out of his pocket.

“Morning!” A chirpy voice let out as she ran in first followed by a tired Shinso. Eri had a bright smile on her face as she moved to sit on her chair next to Shinso. The little seven year old pup was in an active pursuit of trying to gain some independence and do more things for herself, however most of the time reverted to asking Aizawa for help.

Hisashi chuckled as he sat next to your chair as you drew it out for yourself. “Morning sugar tart and morning to you too Hitoshi.”

The purple haired Alpha let out a low yawn as he nodded his head with a wave, before settling with a low grumble. You chuckled as you waved a hand to him. Shinso nodded his head, picking up his fork. “Thanks for the food.”

Before you could answer, a heavy sack of coin fell on the table near you. Your eyes instantly moved towards Aizawa who had laid it near you before returning back to his meal. He motioned towards you, silently telling you to take it. “Take it. You’ll need it for today.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked to the sack of coins. You picked it up and opened it to look inside. Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the amount. “What is there to buy?” You asked wondering what on earth he could be asking you to purchase with such.

“Potatoes.” He answered bluntly. Under the table you heard a hard kick making Aizawa perk up with a grunt. He looked over to his Omega with a glare, however the blond seemed rather unphased by the occurrence. Aizawa rolled his dark eyes, knowing that there was no fighting with Hisashi. “Its for your dress.” He told you honestly, settling his eyes onto you. “The Springtime Festival is happening soon. You haven’t bought a new outfit in a while so we thought you might want one for the festival.” He informed you, making your eyes grow wide. “Of course I feel against Hizashi’s implications of you dressing to impress certain gazes,” He commented glaring at his Omega. “Is not what I agree with but…” He then cleared his throat turning back to you. “You may go for a fitting and all that this morning before your chores and errends.”

You were speechless, not because you didn’t think that Aizawa and Hizashi would ever do this for you, but more because you didn’t expect it. You always tried not to be too much of a bother. They didn’t have to take you in, but they did. They took care of you and swept you under their wing. They took care of you and put so much money in for you, which was another reason why you always made sure that your chores were always done for them.

To say you were touched was an understatement. You swallowed down hard and pushed a smile to your face, trying to ignore the building urge of tears to come to your eyes away. You bowed your head and nodded. “Thank you. I’m grateful.”

Aizawa waved a hand down not wanting your tears or reaction (probably because he didn’t want to feel emotional himself). “It’s nothing, Y/N. Just remember to buy potatoes at the end of the day.” He reminded you.

The village of Yuuie was always bustling with activity and people. It was a harmonious village built on honest hard work and ensuring the benefit of everyone in the community. The morning sun was already up and most people had already started in their chores or jobs. You carefully navigated the main road, leaving with the fresh new coin you were given this morning towards the Bakugou’s Tailor shop.

You tightened your scarf around your head. Making sure to cover your head from the sun. You weren’t entirely sure how you became friends with Bakugou Katsuki. He was much richer than you especially with the Bakugous working in tailoring and dressmaking. They were one of only two dressmakers in Yuuie and they did a damn good job at it. However, your friend, Katsuki was surely a character.

You carefully moved towards the door, entering into the cool shop. They had just opened shop by the looks of it, which was the reason why you were the only one here right now. You carefully put down your woven wooden basket filled with an empty metal milk cannister. You wiped your hands on your apron over your dress as you looked around. The cool room had cloths and fabrics lining the walls to choose from with kimonos, dresses, pants and all other sorts of clothing on stands on display for anyone to see.

“Mr Bakugou.” You called out as you looked around, looking for Katsuki’s dam.

Bakugou Masaru drew away the curtain from where he was from behind. His brown eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you. He had his sleeves pushed up allowing his hands to access things easier. He smiled at the sight of you. “Y/N, good morning.” He greeted as he walked over to the side door that led to the main house. “Katsuki! Y/N’s here!” He called out to his son before turning back to you. “How can I help you, dear?”

You stepped forward towards him. “I wanted to ask if it were possible for you to make me a kimono for the Springtime Festival.” You asked with a bow at your waist.

Masaru’s eyebrows raised in surprise at your question. He let out a surprised chirp but then a smile went to his face. “Well of course, I wouldn’t mind. Come, come.” He motioned you to the back where he was away from eyesight. You carefully followed after him. Here he had a wooden block in the middle of the room as well as some rolls of fabric strewn around. He quickly moved around, ushering you to stand on the box. “I was waiting for you to ask. Katsuki said you would need a new outfit as well but I didn’t want to impose or anything.” He waved his hands trying to imply what he was saying. “So tell me what you were thinking?”

“Uh...” You let out a gentle chuckle as you kept your hands joined together in front of you. “I’m not entirely sure. What do you think will look good on me?”

Masaru turned to look at you with his eyebrows furrowed. He tilted his head not entirely sure on what tone would look good on your skin. He hummed as he picked up a roll of black fabric as he lifted it up to your skin body. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he thought about whether or whether not it suited you the best. “Well… I think that maybe…” Before he could continue on you heard a door open rather violently.

“KATSUKI!” You heard a familiar loud voice come from the other side.

Standing in the doorway was your best friend who had his eyebrows furrowed in a frown, naturally of course. He was always frowning. His blood crimson eyes were stuck on your very form moving over you with precision and scrutiny. His eyes flicked to his dam before looking back at you. “No.” He shook his head in disapproval. “No, I have not been embroidering butterflies and flowers for our kimonos for you to go and choose a colour that isn’t right.” He announced as he marched into the room with his head held high with such surety in every step.

You chuckled at the sight of him. “Hello Katsuki.” You greeted him, already knowing how your bestfriend acts when he has set his mind on something.

Katsuki gave you a grunt as a response. He grabbed a roll of fabric off the wall, your favourite colour and one that suited you well. He quickly moved around, minding the skirt of his dress as he did so. He was dressed in a similar apron and dress, that suited his figure. The Omega carefully marched back over to you, holding it to your skin. He hummed as his eyebrows furrowed. He looked to his dam. “This one.” He stated confidently. “This one along with the white butterflies.”

Masaru nodded his head in agreement, seeing what his son was saying. The two Bakugou Omegas began to discuss your outfit for the Springtime Festival and you could barely keep up with them. Katsuki began to measure your body like it was second nature. Taking measurements with a tape and telling his dam as he moved across your body.

He turned to look back up at you, the blond Omega assessing your body and the image of how you would look on the day of the festival in the outfit he had in mind for you. He put on a proud smirk on his face with a knowing hum. “With what we have got planned, you and I, my dearest Y/N, will finally snag ourselves an Alpha or two.” He proclaimed boldly. “There’s no way we can stay unmated with how we’ll be dressing. We won’t be spinsters any longer, I’m tired of it.”

You chuckled as you allowed him to measure your arm’s length. “Katsuki, we’re eighteen.” You reminded him.

He scowled. “And still unmated without pups. We might as well head to the capital and give ourselves up to a nunnery.” He grumbled making you and Masaru giggle in amusement.

The two of you had presented at the ripe age of twelve, a normal age for pups and immediately you were thrown into the studies of being an Omega in the Village of Yuuie. You had come of age, and it was important for you all to know what it entailed. Same thing happened with the Alphas around your age in the village too. The Omegas were taught by Midoriya Inko and Hizashi, while the Alphas were taught by Aizawa and Todoroki Enji (since he was the Head Alpha of the Village).

You were taught all about medicinal plants and practices, about healing, taking care of pack members as well as midwifery. You were also taught about pup rearing, homemaking and what was expected of you as Omegas especially when mated to an Alpha. All chores and jobs, you shadowed, following along the older Omegas in the village like little… well… shadows. That was all done until you finally graduated your studies at fifteen as full adult members of the pack, fulfilling jobs and chores and waiting for an Alpha to sweep you off your feet and claim you.

It had been two years of this and Katsuki was already getting impatient. But to be fair… your best friend was never the patient type.

“Okay… I think that’s all I need from you Y/N.” Masaru told you with a gentle smile as he closed his little notebook and put the quill away. He turned back to you. “Come back in a week and I should have it ready and waiting for you.”

You bowed your head in gratitude. “Thank you, Mr Bakugou.”

“Where were you headed?” Katsuki asked you as he folded his arms over his chest.

You turned to him, motioning to the door of the shop. “I was heading to the market. I need to buy vegetables and get new milk bottles before doing my chores.”

At the mention of milk bottles Katsuki perked up. His face already said everything, that he was coming with you. Although you already knew he would, but it was amusing to see it either way. “Great. Lets-”

“Katsuki!” A loud voice echoed as the sound of heeled boots went through the open door that led to the rest of the house. Katsuki stopped talking as his facial expression hardened. You saw Masaru grow tense at the voice. Walking to stand in the doorway was the Alpha of the house, Bakugou Mitsuki. She looked exactly like Katsuki, it was uncanny. Her face was strewn into a disapproving scowl, harsh red eyes on her son as she stood in the doorway. Her cold yet fiery eyes moved to you and softened at the sight of her son’s best friend. “Y/N. You’re here early.” She spoke truthfully as she folded her arms over her white tunic shirt.

She wasn’t wrong. You normally came over to do some of your duties with Katsuki a bit later in the day when your household chores were finished. You bowed at the waist towards, customary of any Sire of a family. “Good morning, Mrs Bakugou. I came to order a new kimono for the festival.” You informed her.

Mituski nodded her head. “That’s good. Katsuki’s been fussing over when you would come order a new one.” She then turned to look back at her Omega son. “Katsuki, go and finish your chores.” She ordered, motioning for him to leave the room and get back to the main house.

He moved to clasp your hand which you tightened your grip on him in response. He lifted his nose as he furrowed his eyebrows. “I have to go to the market. We need more milk and tomatoes, right Pops?” Katsuki asked as he turned to Masaru.

Masaru nodded his head affirmingly, which didn’t seem to sit well with Mitsuki. With Mitsuki present at home and them having just opened up shop, it made sense to you now why Masaru didn’t have his bonded neck tie scarf around his neck. He swallowed hard but stood his ground. “Yes… I wasn’t able to get yesterday before the market closed so I asked Katsuki to go with YN now before it gets too busy.” He explained.

Mitsuki was silent as she looked at her Omega. For anyone who knew the Bakugous and how they worked, they would know that Mitsuki thrived off of control over her family. The blond Alpha frowned, her face twisting into slight disapproval almost as if she knew it was a lie as plain as day. She motioned to the door. “Go, Katsuki. Be back in half of an hour or I’m fetching you myself.” She stated, turning around to head back into the house away from the lot of you.

Katsuki waited a second before huffing, pushing out the smell of his sire’s glycerine scent out of his nose. He turned to you. “Let me fetch my basket and coin and we’ll be off. I’ll meet you outside.”

Which is what you did. You waited until the blond Omega showed up outside, closing the door behind him. He had a matching headscarf to you, keeping his blond hair out of his face too. He had his basket resting on one arm while the other took yours, keeping the two of you together. You smiled as the two of you set off deeper into the centre of the village.

The village was already starting to bustle with life as the villagers woke up and already started their chores and errands for the day. You said your good mornings and waves here and there, Katsuki nodding his head beside you as you entered the stone square of the marketplace.

“Winter is finally over.” You let out sweetly at the warm sun that already started to spread its warmth down onto your village as you and Katsuki walked side by side.

Katsuki hummed with a nod. “Thank the heavens. I can’t stand the awful cold.” He spoke truthfully, with clear discontent in his voice. Considering Omegas ran colder than Alphas, you often had to wear more layers in winter thanks to that, but Katsuki always managed to get himself a cough or flu no matter how hard he tried. He was practically sleepy the entirety of winter because of it. “Let’s pray the Spring Harvest will be good enough to sustain us further into the seasons.”

“Let’s.” You spoke in agreement. “However, I heard from Hizashi that Miss Inko said that Izuku has been very busy with tending to the farm, so she thinks there’ll be a great harvest this year.” You told him the normal femme to femme gossip and chain of information. It was the easiest way to know things without asking directly.

Speaking of Midoriya Izuku, the large thick skinned Alpha stood at the rather large stall, already selling vegetables that he had. The green haired Alpha had his hat on his head already but a small sheen of sweat was on his forehead, the sleeves of his shirt pushed to his elbows, showing how much work he had already done so early in the morning. Koda, an adopted younger brother of Izuku, carried around a crate of mixed groceries down the road away from Izuku back in the direction of the Midoriya farm.

You and Katsuki took a place in the back of the line, just two people away from the front. It didn’t take long before the two of you were facing Izuku.

The large Alpha smiled at the sight of the both of you, a white grin with sharp canines gleaming. He tipped his hat to the two of you. “Mornin’ Y/N, mornin’ Kacchan.” He spoke with an accent to his speech.

You smiled sweetly at the large Alpha who always smelled of rich fresh earth and paper. He was a pupmate of yours and Katsuki, only being two years older than the two of you, like most of the Alphas of your generation and an absolute sweetheart. He was one of the Alphas most of the dams wished their Omega pups would end up with. “Morning, Izuku.” You bowed your head to him.

Katsuki scrunched up his face lifting up his nose, but tilting his head away from the green haired Alpha, keeping his eyes down and away from the Alpha. “Deku.”

Izuku chuckled as he folded his arms. “Kacchan.”

Katsuki looked him over, noticing his attire. “You look cleaner than normal… that’s suspicious.” He let out with a slight hum almost as if trying to figure out why.

The green haired Alpha chuckled. “Ma’s busy helping Mrs Fujita. The new pup is due and I haven’t heard much from her so I’m running the stall till she gets back.” He explained, satisfying Katsuki’s suspicions. He raised an eyebrow as he put his hand on the small bit of table he could, leaning forward slightly with a slight smirk. “Why? You like me smelling like a bed of roses, Kacchan? Tickles your fancy?”

Katsuki scoffed with a roll of his head. “It rather irritates my nose, were I honest.” His answer made Izuku laugh making the blond Omega ease at the easy flow of conversation between the two. They had always been close, despite the difference in secondary gender and how much of a little devil Katsuki was to him when they were younger.

Izuku motioned in front of him. “What do you two fine Omegas need today?”

You pointed over to the potatoes. “Some potatoes, please and cabbage too.” You told him as you handed over your basket, taking out the empty milk cannister and holding it in your free hand.

Katsuki did the same. “Tomatoes.”

Izuku nodded his head, always moving fast and efficiently always making sure to give the right amount that nothing would go to waste and it was just sustaining enough until you would come back. You and Katsuki already knew the prices well enough to recite them with your eyes closed, which is how you placed the coin down in front of him. Izuku passed over your baskets, scooping the coin into the pocket on his right. “Where yall heading now?” He asked.

You motioned to your right further down the centre of the village, not too far to the Kirishimas store. “We’re just getting milk, next.” You informed him. Katsuki nodded his head agreeingly.

Izuku pulled on an almost smug smirk. “Tell Eijiro I said hi when you see him.” He teased.

That made both you and Katsuki tense for a second. Katsuki scowled as he turned his head with a huff, pulling you along away from Izuku. “Come on, Y/N. Let us go before this rotten piece of broccoli corrupts us.” He spoke boldly only making the only Alpha of the Midoriya family laugh.

He tilted his hat to the two of you again. “See yall at dinner.”

You waved over to him as you and Katsuki turned to leave. “Thank you, Izuku.”

“See you later, nerd!” Katsuki said his version of a goodbye as you both walked towards the Kirishimas store.

The Kirishima family were cattle farmers. They sold milk and meat, an interesting combination but one that seemingly suited them. There were a really well-respected family in Yuuie, having been one of the first four founding families of Yuuie and were some of the nicest people you knew. The Kirishimas, although a rather big family, were also a very good family that many couldn’t help but idolise, especially in hopes of marrying into.

For a simple reason as any. The Alphas.

You entered the cool store, where Yua was, putting away used cannisters and moving them into a crate to be picked up soon. The dark red-haired Omega with strands of grey, perked up at the sound of people entering, and she put a smile on her face the sight of the two of you. “Good morning, you two.” She greeted as she dusted her hands on her apron and smiled. “How can I help you two darlings?”

Kirishima Yua was a wonderful Omega who had such a loving and caring presence to her that you couldn’t help but aspire to be her one day when you’re older. She was a mother to nine pups, a devoted Omega to her Alpha and incorporated herself into the community. She always wore her black and red neck tie scarf to muffle her scent, it was something all mated Omegas did, keeping their scents for their Alphas and homes strictly. However, they say the stronger an Omega’s scent it, the more fertile and more wanted they are and Yua was the closest thing to the standard for what Omegas were meant to be.

You and Katsuki bowed your head to her. “Morning, Mrs Kirishima.” You greeted on the half of both of you. “Can we get two new milk cannisters, please?”

“Of course.” She let out with a chirp.

Katsuki and you placed your empty ones in front of her, sliding them over to her, already washed and clean for her. Katsuki gave her a genuine smile, always having found her like close dam figure to him. She was like that for everyone, just like Midoriya Inko. “How’s Tamami?” He asked about one of her younger daughters.

Yua giggled as she waved a hand down before taking the cannisters off the table and moving to put them in one of the wooden crates. “She’s well. Just adjusting to being an Omega after presenting but nevertheless, she seems really excited.” She informed the two of you as she reached to the back wall, picking up the two heavy and full cannisters of milk.

“That’s good.” You let out a relieved smile, hearing that she was doing well. She had presented just a week ago and you were curious as to how the little redheaded Omega was doing now.

Katsuki nodded his head, agreeing with you. “Very.”

“It is and-” Something caught her attention behind the both of you. Her face lit up at the sight of someone. “Eijiro, come put the new ones back here.” She motioned behind her.

At the mention of her only son, the two of you turned around to see him.

The big hulking Alpha entered the store holding onto a crate of new filled milk canisters as if they weren’t heavier than you or Katsuki. The large Alpha was taller than the two of you by a head and a half and dwarfed the two of you exponentially. In size and strength, you could tell that he was an Alpha of such a high calibre just like any Kirishima Alpha. Big, thick strong skin with large muscles and tall domineering stance. His large hands gripped the wooden crate easily as his ruby eyes moved over to the two of you. A scar ran over his right eye, fitting his image and large burliness.

You had to control your scent as you tried to not get distracted by his thick muscles or his savoury scent of sweet spices and something baking in an oven. He smelled delicious and your Omega couldn’t help but salivate at the sight of him. Katsuki always had to remind himself the same thing as he watched the large Alpha pause at the sight of the two of you.

He looked between the both of you. He smiled down at the two of you. The large Alpha had always seemed to have a preference for the two of you, something you didn’t seem to mind at all (you were both quite happy about it actually. He was an Alpha of few words some of the time, at least to the two of you, but you thought that might be a Kirishima thing.

He nodded his head with a grunt. “Morning.” His deep raspy voice, a voice that sent shivers down your spines and had your Omegas whining let out as he greeted the both of you.

You had to remind yourself to greet him back and not just stare like an idiot. You bowed your head to him, baring your neck slightly. “Good morning, Eijiro.”

It took Katsuki a moment as well before nodding his head and doing the same, baring his neck just as you, in submission. “Morning, Eijiro.” He greeted back.

Eijiro didn’t say anything more, an unashamed rumble coming out of his chest at the greetings from the both of you. The sound of his approval made you both feel a rush down your back, a flush to your faces at having pleased in some way. Remembering his dam’s instructions, he walked over to the back, doing as he was told easily, not bothered by the weight of the milk canisters. His long black hair fell down his back, thick and down to his waist, easily reminding you of his sire.

Yua watched wordless at the three of you, looking between her son and the two of you. She sniffed the air subtly, noticing your sweet scent along with Katsuki’s caramel and burnt sugar scent mingling in the air a bit more than it was earlier.

She hummed with a small smirk, before clearing her throat. “You know, Eijiro over here just finished his house on our property. He worked so hard on it with his sire and his older sister, isn’t that right, Eijiro?” She spoke looking back at her tall son. Eijiro paused for a second at the mention of his name and nodded with grunt, before continuing on with what he was doing. “And you know what they say,” Yua continued patting a hand on her son’s back as she smiled at the both of you. “An Alpha might have a house but it isn’t a home until he gets an Omega to make it one.” She stated with a nod to her head, like it was a well known saying.

Eijiro paused again, looking down at his mother with a slight tilt of his head. He wasn’t entirely sure where his mother was going with this conversation nor what she meant exactly. He did however notice the both of you listening to her and that was enough for him to trust that this was some sort of a fruitful conversation. He then saw Katsuki flick his gaze up to him. The blond Omega swallowed down hard but tried keeping his head up, trying not to win at what he thought was a staring game. Eijiro found it amusing.

Yua nodded her head. “Isn’t that right, Eijiro?” She asked with a bright smile up at him. “You would do nicely with a nice Omega, or two, hm?” She asked with a suggestive wink. Subtly trying to direct his gaze back to the two of you. “You’re already a grown Alpha, you need a wife or two.”

Eijiro looked up at two of you. You looked down away from him, seemingly flustered and not wanting to meet his gaze, and so did Katsuki who seemed like his ears were the shade of his mother’s hair. Eijiro set down the crate for a moment an walked around the counter over to the two of you. You both straightened up at the random occurrence as Kirishima stood in front of the both of you. He leaned forward between the two of you, still keeping a customary distance.

Something Eijiro always loved about the two of you was how your scents intertwined and moved together so nicely. They suited each other so well. Everyone in the village knew that the two of you were a package deal, which wasn’t uncommon here in Yuuie. Families came in all types of numbers and shapes and members. It wasn’t uncommon that in their community, Alphas had more than one Omega.

What Eijiro loved most of all was how your scents would smell so good mixed with his own. He closed his eyes with a rumble at the smell of your scents meeting together in the middle Katsuki couldn’t help himself, pumping out a bit more of his scent unconsciously. You tried not to get flustered, knowing that this was probably just Kirishima being an Alpha. Alphas did that. They sniffed. It was kinda what they did. It didn’t mean anything. You tried to remind yourself as he let out a louder rumble than before at the smell.

He stood back, trying to control himself. He let out a chuft out of his throat in approval. “Festival.” He let out lowly.

You were too clueless at whatever just happened to answer. Katsuki cleared his throat, ignoring the slight need to push his thighs together. “The Springtime Festival?” Eijiro let out an affirming grunt. “What about it?”

“Together.” Kirishima elaborated simply. “Go together. Three of us.”

It was Katsuki’s turn to go speechless too. You blinked up at him wordlessly, also in shock.

Yua let out an excited squeal as she clapped her hands. “How wonderful! That sounds like such a good idea.” She praised her son, moving to scratch the underside of his chin. Instantly Eijiro relaxed moving closer to her hand with a hum. “You know, Eijiro, Y/N and Katsuki are making dinner tonight. You do love their stew.” She reminded him, letting go of him.

At the mention of stew, Eijiro hummed as he made his way back to the milk cannisters he was putting away. He licked his lips at the thought of beef stew. “Stew.” He let out, already salivating at the thought of it.

You quickly grabbed your own milk cannister, slightly shoving Katsuki to jerk him back to reality. You both took your closed cannisters. “See you later, tonight, Mrs Kirishima.” You let out nervously.

“And Eijiro.”

She waved a hand. “Bye sweethearts.”

You stood next to Katsuki as the two of you stood around the fire. You stirred the huge pot of stew for the pack dinner. It made the great hall smell delicious and appetising. You hummed with a smile on your face at the pleasant smell. Katsuki moved to add some sugar into the large put keeping an eye on the bubbling stew and the potatoes that still needed to soften. He nodded his head with a huff as he moved back to the oven.

You and some of the other young Omegas of the village were getting dinner ready in a room that led into the main hall. You could already hear chatter of the hall slowly filling up with pack members. The little shadow Omegas, including Kirishima Tamami who stood at your side paying attention and taking note of your ingredients and the time it took, watched at a safe distance not getting in the way but being close enough to see all the action around you all.

“He got it just for me.” Ochaco let out sickeningly sweetly as she showed off a wedding present bracelet that Iida Tenya had gotten her. She stood with two shadows and Pony. She giggled at the piece of jewellery. “Honestly, he is so sweet to me. I’m moving in with him soon soon.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. If there was something he hated more than someone flaunting around the fact that they were being courted, he hated Ochaco. Now Katsuki didn’t mind when someone was excited about being courted. He was happy for Pony when she was courted by Sato, and was all hands on deck when their wedding happened a few months ago. However, when it came to the brunette Omega, he couldn’t help but get ticked off. “Well, he won’t want to marry you if you end up burning the bread buns.” He hissed as he swatted her away from the oven moving to check on the bread buns that were golden and ready to be taken out not a second longer.

The brunette rolled her eyes as she grabbed two towels to help Katsuki take out the other tray of baking buns from the hot fire burning oven. “Oh, don’t be like that Katsuki.” She let out softly. “A bunch of bread won’t determine how he feels about me. Although,” She started as she moved to set the tray next to Katsuki’s as he took the cloths and threw them onto his shoulder with a frown. “I can’t say the same about every Omega though.” She let out snarky.

Katsuki stiffened for less than a second but glared over at her with a scowl. He reached on top to the many bread baskets, taking them down as he started to put the buns in them. “The fuck you saying, squirrel cheeks.” He let out lowly.

You paused for a second, sensing Katsuki’s rising anger as clear as day. You motioned to Tamami to watch the pot, knowing she had experience with her own dam letting her cook, so you weren’t too worried. She nodded understandingly as the small new Omega moved to where you were standing. Mei was silent as she moved to help Katsuki move the bread loves into their little baskets, making the work faster, but also releasing some calming scents to try and silently calm the situation.

Ochaco shrugged. “I’m just saying, you can’t get an Alpha by your cooking alone. Alphas don’t like Omegas with such rotten mouths or manners. You pride yourself on being the best and yet which Alpha wants you?” She stated glaring at him from the corner of her eye with a gentle smirk on her face. She turned towards the oven once again.

Katsuki moved to try and grab her, but you quickly stopped him, putting a hand to the side of his face. “Katsuki, ignore her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” You told him into his ear as you and Pony held him securely, restraining the blond Omega from effectively clawing at Ochaco’s eyes. Katsuki had a vicious scowl on his face as he let out a hiss at her, Omegan canines barred as he stood in your arms. You glared back at Ochaco but did your best to focus on Katsuki. You directed his eyes to you, anger on his face but hurt in his eyes. Pony put her head to his shoulder, with a chirp trying to calm him down alongside you.

“Come on Omegas.” Inko spoke as she clapped her hands as she walked into the kitchen. The round older Omega walked in with her head up and green hair pushed back into a ponytail. “Is food ready? We got a hungry pack waiting.” She paused as she noticed the tension in the room. She looked over at a rather smug Ochaco and then to a fuming Katsuki. She frowned as she walked further into the room. She let out a dam like hiss, sound making you all look to her. Her emerald eyes moving around to the lot of you. “Whatever is going on, we will deal with it later. Your Head Alpha is hungry as well as the rest of the pack. Now get the food out into the hall.” She motioned from where she had come from.

You all nodded wordlessly as you moved to get things rolling. Katsuki moved to your side, carefully taking woollen leather muttons to try and stop the heat as you both grabbed hold of the heavy pot of stew. Tamami stepped back, having stirred the pot to make sure nothing would get burnt at the bottom. You and Katsuki gave each other a firm nod before picking up the heavy pot, lifting with your legs and your arms as you made your way out, Inko keeping the door open for the both of you.

You both waddled over to the serving station, ignoring the hungry stares at the sight of the pot and the waiting food. You both placed it down without much issue, being sure not to spill a drop. The hall was already filled with hungry loved ones and people you’ve known since birth. The Omegas that worked alongside you and the shadows moved along with you, moving in tandem to get all the bread loaves out and another huge pot of mashed potatoes. It took a few minutes but soon food was ready to be served. You stood next to Katsuki who masked his emotions on his face with a head held high.

The huge Head Alpha Todoroki Enji, stood up first, his first wife, a silent white-haired Omega stood with him as well as his pups, Natsuo, Fuyumi and Shoto. He made his way to the front with his large plate in hand. At the sight of the Head Alpha of the pack, you all bowed at the waist, head hung low as you said your greetings.

The large redheaded Alpha had his piercing cold electric blue eyes on all of you, before resting on you. He let out a grunt as he extended his arm. The grunt was permission to raise your heads. You carefully took the ladle and made swift work of plating the mashed potatoes for him. He then moved forward to Katsuki who added on the stew and then to Momo who plated a bread bun for him. With Enji having his plate of food, and making swift work of diving in to eating the moment he sat down, the rest of the hall made easy and quick work of getting up. You smiled and greeted everyone, the pups coming first as they were main priority, along with any pregnant Omegas and then the rest of the pack.

Once everyone had had their first servings, all of you who had cooked and served got your own and made your way to sit together, all the young Omegas you had learnt beside and were friends with, plus Ochaco, moved to your own table not too far away from the Alphas table themselves.

“I’m a bit worried.” Izuku said as he chewed on a piece of beef. “Rabbits don’t come up dead for no reason.”

Todoroki Shoto hummed as he nodded his head. The red and white haired Alpha, although being the youngest son of the Head Alpha was one of the more civilised Alphas of the bunch. He wasn’t big into the more physical work like the others, and was following Aizawa into teaching. He put a hand to his chin as he thought to himself. “We have already taken away all the bunny’s natural predators around the farm and the village, they should not be a problem then…” He spoke as he thought, gears working behind his heterochromic eyes. “Might there be wolves that moved into the area.”

Shinso let out a displeased sound as he took a bite out of the soft warm bread bun that he had. “The watch never reported wolf tracks.”

“They stay away from the village most of the time, either way.” Kyouka spoke as she crossed her legs and looked around the table. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have them look out for tracks.”

Shoto hummed as he nodded. He then looked to Eijiro who was practically devouring the food on his plate. At the feeling of eyes on him, the wolf stopped and looked around the table. He let out a grunt, wondering what it was for, only making some of his friends laugh.

“Hungry, Eijiro?” Tenya asked amusedly, adjusting the glasses on his nose.

Eijiro nodded his head as he stuffed more stew into his mouth. He sat up and motioned down to his plate. “Y/N and Katsuki’s stew. Been looking forward to it all day.” He let out lowly.

Sero Hanta let out an amused laugh. The woodcutter, leaned back for a second as he tilted his head at the sight of the large black-haired Alpha. “You have your eyes on the duo then?” He asked amusedly. He received a low but short growl which only made the others laugh. “I’m just asking.” Hanta spoke, putting his hands up in defence.

Izuku hummed as he glanced at the Omega table to the both of you. “Katsuki and Y/N are cute.” He spoke making Eijiro stop midway as his ruby eyes flicked to the green haired Alpha next to him. Izuku perked up before looking at the other Alpha. “They are. They’re good Omegas, beautiful, would make good mates. However, they do go together, so if you’re going for them you gotta go for both.” He reminded him.

The others nodded in agreement. Eijiro hummed in agreement as he sat up, furrowing his eyebrows. “Like potatoes and beef.” He commented only making the others laugh.

However, Eijiro was actually thinking about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you and Katsuki. Quite the opposite actually. Eijiro wanted a mate. He really did. He just was often busy with work on the farm that he didn’t really have much thought about it until recently. It was often said that an Alpha who built a house would get an Omega less than a year later. Kind of one of his hopes right now.

Now from all the Omegas he knew, you and Katsuki had always been a favourite. You were close with his dam and anyone close to his dam had his respect. However, what he like about the two of you was how well you complemented each other and how much you suited one another. He loved Katsuki’s spitfire personality and his hard and honest work, he also loved your dedication to your family and the pack around you and your loving nature. It was perfect in his mind. His mother nailed the head in the coffin when she seemed rather eager this morning on pushing him towards the two of you.

He was suddenly very glad that he asked to accompany you two at the festival, he hoped that maybe if he was brave enough, he might just end up with two Omegas to hold and to claim by the end of Spring.

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psuedofolio · 7 months

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This week of OCs, it's OCs from Cassiopeia Quinn. You know, that webcomic that I make over at https://www.cassiopeiaquinn.com/

Flavor Text is as follows:

1: CASSIOPEIA: Heh. 69. That's, you know... The only natural number whose square and cube use every digit from zero to nine exactly once. *Nice.*

2: An unusual example of the Vanaa species, Nimoo enjoys many human items and traditions, and few more than Halloween. Taking advantage of his malleable form allows Nimoo the chance to dress as festive gourds or a behatted occultist.

3: Despite being a near full body replacement cyborg, Zeke likes to keep most "smart applications" in his head to a minimum. A built in clock is nice for when he wants to check on the oven or the laundry, but he'll turn it off when he's lying down with some dusty old paperback.

4: Paola Feti is a model Navy officer (in a culture based on reputation, rank, and competition). Her skill at dueling hasn't actually proven her correct in any arguments, but it's definitely given her the last word more than once.

5: Madison figured she'd be happy after finishing this new kit, but all she could see are the dozen little mistakes. And they'll nag at her every time she sees it.

(we'll be past 75 characters a day next week meaning I'll be 3/4 of the way to meeting my 100 OC characters a day thread goal, let's a go)

#cassiopeia quinn #ocs #psudo comics #sketches #character design

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reiding-writing · 6 months

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mistletoe [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer accidentally slips to the team that he doesn’t like Christmas, and you take it upon yourself to try and change his mind during one of your bi-weekly movie nights.

WARNINGS: mentions of schizophrenic episodes, mentions of divorce, slight miscommunication

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: 99% fluff, tiny bit of angst, two oblivious idiots in love

wc: 4.6k

masterlist!!

a/n: watch someone who doesn’t like christmas, write about a reader who does like christmas 😭 thanks to ml @flowersfromautumn for beta reading this for me 🫶🫶

Spencer Reid was not a Christmas person.

The rest of the team found it a little ironic, especially considering his overwhelming love for halloween, but he wasn’t going to tell them that the reason he hated the holiday season was because his mother’s paranoia spiked during them. He wasn’t going to tell them that the last time he’d tried to do something with his family for the holidays it ended with his mother locking herself in her bedroom for three straight days and Spencer finding a copy of divorce papers half-hidden under his father’s work files.

He wasn’t going to tell the team that the whole month of December felt like a massive dissociation for him every single year to the point where - despite his eidetic memory - he couldn’t remember most of the Christmases of his childhood.

His younger years were enjoyable, at least, he thinks so; Filled with festivities and family-bonding. But as his growth was overshadowed by his mother's battle with schizophrenia, the jingling bells and festive lights brought memories of unpredictable episodes, turning what should have been joyful celebrations into overwhelming anxiety and stress.

The only Christmas he had a clear memory of was the one in 1990, the day he found out that his family was no longer a family at all. That’s a lot for a nine year old to handle, even if his mind preceded his age twice over.

“Spencer?” You knock - kick - at the front door of Spencer’s apartment, right on time for your bi-weekly movie session. “Spencer Reid? Hellooo?”

It takes a minute for Spencer to open the door, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as he does so. “Sorry I was just-“

Spencer cuts himself off as his eyes meet the large cardboard box in your hand, noting how you’re leaning it on top of your thigh with your leg balanced in the air so you don’t drop it. “What’s that for?”

“You’ll see,” You give him a half-smug smile as you push your way past him into his apartment, dumping the box on his coffee table and shaking out your arms to relive them of the ache of carrying its weight for the last several minutes.

Spencer follows soon after you, pushing the door closed and tilting his head at the box like a puppy who’d just been presented with a ball for the first time.

Its oddly endearing, and you find yourself getting distracted from the box as you take in the way the warm lighting of his apartment cascades over the side of his face, leaving a soft shadow that accentuates his jawline in the most perfect way to make your stomach do a flip in your torso and stir a kaleidoscope of butterflies awry in its wake.

You’re thrust back into reality by Spencer speaking your name, his tone so sweet you’re sure it could give you cavities. “What’s in the box?”

“Oh- right, right yeah uh-“ You peel the tape off of one side of the box, peeling it open to let the two flaps at the top of the box loose. “Okay don’t be mad at me-“

You slowly open the box up to let Spencer look inside it properly. It was completely filled to the brim with a collection of miscellaneous decorations fit for the Christmas season, all neatly packed into smaller boxes and plastic containers, separated with labels on each.

Spencer says your name again as his eyes scan the contents of the box, this time with much less sweetness and much more apprehension.

“Why did you—“

Reid cuts himself off for a second time in the last five minutes as he reads the labels on the smaller boxes, getting caught on one lining the main box’s long side. “You brought a tree?”

It’s a small one,”

Spencer looks at you like you’ve just released a mischief of rats into his apartment.

He was expecting to be sat on his couch with you at his side, devouring cheap take-away pizza whilst indulging in multiple hours of re-runs of Doctor Who. Instead, you’d dumped a box of Christmas decorations on his coffee table which he can only assume you’ll hound him into putting up.

He’d been ambushed.

“You know I’m not really fond of the whole Christmas thing,” Spencer says, running a hand through the fluffy mess of brown hair that you would gladly spend hours with your fingers in if he’d let you.

“I know you aren’t Spencer, but this is the time of year where people are supposed to spend time with the people they care about, I’m not going to let you spend it hauled up in an undecorated apartment by yourself,” You begin to unload the boxes onto his coffee table with a soft sigh.

“It’s just another day,” Spencer’s voice is soft, appreciative of you going out of your way to do something like this for him but also not entirely sure of the point of it. “Besides, don’t you have plans with your family?”

“They’re on the other side of the country Spence, and as much as I love them i’m not taking that trip down, just in case something comes up with the team,” You unbox the artificial tree first, pulling it out of its box and tugging the flattened branches outwards to make it look more tree-like. “So i’m saddled up here for the holidays,”

You move the tree over to a side table next to one of the walls of Spencer’s apartment, the dark green complimenting the olive of his walls.

“Do we really have to do this?” Spencer’s voice is non-confrontational, not wanting to fight with you.

“It’ll be fun I promise,” You blink up at him with those eyes of yours and there’s no way in hell he’s going to be able to say no to you.

Spencer sighs softly, dragging his fingers over his closed eyelids under his glasses before reluctantly opening a plastic container labelled ‘lights’, beginning to untangle one of the strings of lights from the others. “I don’t think I’ve put up a tree since I was around eight or nine,”

“You don’t think?” You raise an eyebrow at him as you continue to adjust the faux branches of the tabletop tree.

“I- don’t actually remember most of my Christmases…” Spencer’s pursed smile fills you with an overwhelming amount of upset sympathy that he can immediately read all over your face. “I was never exactly ‘enraptured’ with it anyway,”

That was a total lie.

Spencer tries to shrug off your concern as he successfully manages to untangle the lights. “Did you know that the first ever rendition of ‘Christmas’ as we know it happened roughly 5000 years ago?”

And there goes Spencer’s distraction technique. He’d always manage to turn the attention away from himself and towards something academic when he was becoming uncomfortable with his own vulnerability.

“It was originally actually celebrated on December 21st as a celebration of the mid-winter solstice, and the Neolithics, or new stone age people, would gather around Stonehenge to have feasts and exchange gifts with each other, even playing music associated with the holiday on bone flutes from the cattle used for the feast.”

A part of you wants to stop Spencer’s tangent, to bring the topic back to why Christmas was such a bad time of the year for him as a child that it caused gaps in his memory despite him remembering the rest of his life down to the most minor of details. But another part of you knows that if it’s that bad, maybe it’s best to leave it be. He’ll tell you when he’s ready to.

“So-“ Spencer rummages around for a few seconds in one of his drawers to pull out some batteries for the lights, then turning a warm yellow once they’re powered, twinkling on and off intermittently. “How do we know what goes where?”

He begins to carefully wrap the lights around the length of the tree down in a spiral, leaving the battery box in the small fake pot underneath the tree. He at least knows where to put the lights.

“We vibe it,” You shrug your shoulders softly at his question as you go back over to the coffee table to retrieve your box of baubles, a mix of red and off white, with a few of them covered in glitter.

“We- Vibe it?” Spencer furrows his expression slightly as he watches you arbitrarily place one of the baubles on the tree.

That was one of the things he remembered about decorating with his parents when he was younger. The tree was organised. And he remembers the arguments that spanned from what should have been a family-bonding activity.

The end result always looked more like one of those display Christmas trees in department stores than a Christmas tree put together by a loving family. But he supposes it makes sense considering the dynamic of his parents.

“Yep, we vibe it,” You pick up a second bauble to hang from the tree. “Just try not to put too many of the same colour in one area otherwise it can look a little dodgy,”

“Right- Okay…” It doesn’t take long for him to get a feel for where the baubles should be going, and he follows your lead in hanging them on the branches.

He’s a lot less stressed than the fragmented memories of his show him he should be as he decorates the small tree with you, and he’s sure it’s because the soft smile adorning your features as you pass him baubles of different colours and sizes houses some sort of black magic that just erases all semblance of negativity from his mind.

After a few minutes, Spencer takes a step back from the tree to look over his work, feeling pretty satisfied with himself, a small smile gracing his features that the warm light of the fairy lights only accentuates, casting a soft glow over his face. “Not bad,”

“Ah-” You hold up a hand as you rifle through the box, pulling out a very obviously handmade tree topper in the vague appearance of a fairy. “One more thing,”

“A fairy?” Spencer takes the topper from your hand carefully, as if he’s afraid of breaking it if he were to hold onto it too tightly. “Who made this?”

“I did-“ An almost unnoticeable flush covers your cheeks as you watch him examine the cone of white card with a painted styrofoam head and yarn for hair, wings cut out of translucent iridescent lining and haphazardly folded into shape over jeweller’s wire. “When i was a kid-“

“It’s adorable,” Spencer’s voice proves his genuinity. He feels somewhat touched by the fact that you still had it. “You’ve been holding on to this for years?”

“Yeah- I usually put it on top of my tree at home but I figured that you’d benefit more from it this year than I would-“ Spencer almost melts at your thoughtfulness. It’s honestly one of the sweetest things he thinks anyone has ever done for him. It obviously meant a lot to you, and yet here you were, surrendering it into Spencer’s care to try and make his holiday season more festive.

“That’s- really sweet of you…” He smiles fondly, gently placing the topper on top of the tree, rotating it slightly so it faces into the main portion of his living room. "It looks like you,"

You laugh softly at the statement, “Vaguely,”

The fairy-topped tree now radiates a cozy warmth in Spencer's living room. The soft glow from the lights and the sentimental touch of the handmade topper seem to transform the atmosphere, creating a space that feels more like a home than just a place to reside.

As you both step back to admire the decorated tree, a sense of accomplishment fills the room. Spencer's eyes linger on the fairy topper, appreciating the connection it holds to your childhood and the kindness behind your gesture.

"We’re not done yet,” You grasp both of his shoulders in your hands for a second, giving them a soft squeeze before heading back over to the box to continue decorating around his apartment.

He smiles at the sight of your enthusiasm. “You’re getting carried away,” Spencer’s tone borders a laugh as you start to scatter decorations around his living room.

You hang a line of gold tinsel along the mantle of his faux fireplace, drape a string of fairy lights over his bookshelf, and hand him small festive table toppers for him to scatter into spaces on his home office, and slowly but surely, his apartment radiates that festive energy associated with the Christmas season.

“You can never have too many decorations,” You shake your head softly at Spencer as he glances over the decorations you’d shoved into his hands.

“But do I really need any decorations?” Spencer sighs softly, slowly putting down the decorations flooding his arms down on his dining table, trying not to sound unappreciative of your efforts.

A little part of him wants to tell you that all of these decorations weren’t really making him feel any better about the holiday season; But he wants to see you happy, even if he has no desire to decorate the place himself.

“It’s just me here,” he adds softly.

“That doesn’t matter,” you tilt your head at him slightly as you retreat back to the cardboard box to retrieve more decorations. “Besides,”

Your eyes catch on a small sprig of mistletoe, and you adjust the wiring to flatten it out properly as you pull it out of the box. “You never know,”

“You expect me to bring someone over here?” Spencer laughs in a mix of astonishment and embarrassment. “Who would I even bring over?”

You respond only with a shrug of your shoulders as you pick up one of Spencer’s dining chairs, carrying it over to the front door so that you can stand on it to comfortably reach the door frame.

“This is way too extra,” he says, looking at the mistletoe that’s now being fastened above his front door as he stands at your side, one hand braced on the back of the dining chair to make sure that you don’t accidentally tip yourself over. “What if I bring someone back and it’s all awkward?”

“You just have an excuse to kiss anyone you think is attractive when they walk into your apartment, sounds like a win win to me,” You hop off of the dining chair once you’re finished, bringing it back to its rightful place under his dining table.

Spencer flushes slightly. “You do realize what you’re saying, right?” he asks. “Like you’re insinuating me going out of my apartment, bringing a random person in here, and kissing them immediately upon entry.”

You give him a pointed look that silently tells him that he’s reading too much into it as you pack up the rest of the box, satisfied with your work. “It’s about time you got some lovin’ Spence,”

It’s not like he doesn’t agree with your sentiment, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not extremely flustered.

“I’m not sure anyone is interested,” He says that like he hadn’t almost had a fling with a hollywood actress a few years ago, like he didn’t constantly have women fawning over him during cases, like you weren’t completely head over heels for him to the point where you’d gone out of your way to spend your saturday night decorating his apartment for Christmas to try and make his holiday season a little more enjoyable.

This man had to be the most oblivious profiler in the FBI; And it made you want to cup those beautiful cheeks in your hands and kiss those beautiful pink lips until his beautiful brain understood just how wrong he was.

Spencer clears his throat at his own awkwardness as he tries to move the topic of conversation away from his love life, his eyes flickering around the main room of his apartment. “I uh, you did a good job with the decor,”

“Thank you, thank you,” You oblige to his change of subject with a dramatic bow, fearing you’ll implode if you think about how obliviously attractive Spencer is any longer.

“Now we can watch a movie,” You move the, now thankfully much lighter, box off of the coffee table to give a clear view of the television from Spencer’s couch. “A Christmas movie.”

Spencer’s eyes widen a little bit as you mention watching a Christmas movie. “Is that something I can opt out of?”

“No?” You give him a look of mock offense as you push him over to the couch to sit down, and he reluctantly obliges with a sigh. “It’s a movie night, and it’s the middle of December, we have to watch a Christmas movie, it’s a rite of passage,”

He’s never been a fan of any of the cliche christmas movies, even if they’re supposed to be cheesy and fun.

He’s willing to compromise, though. For your sake.

“Can it at least be a good Christmas movie and not something that has a plot that was clearly written by the Hallmark Channel?”

“We’re watching the Grinch duh,” You furrow your expression as if the movie choice is obvious, handing him the remote as you grab your satchel bag and hurry off into the kitchen.

“I will be back in like two minutes, don’t even think of trying to escape from this,”

“I’m not going anywhere don’t worry,” Spencer sighs with a soft smile as he watches you disappear around the corner. Even if the Grinch movie doesn’t sound like his cup of tea, he’d do just about anything for you.

He scours through Netflix as you busy yourself in his kitchen, and you waltz back out a few minutes later with a small tray housing two steaming mugs and two plastic wrapped candy canes, placing it on the coffee table in front of him. “Et voila,”

Spencer doesn’t have to ask to know what the mugs hold, he can smell the chocolate from his seat. “Alrighty then, christmas movie time it is,”

Spencer watches as you make yourself comfortable next to him, crossing your legs and draping a throw blanket from the arm of the couch over your legs, and it’s hard not to look at you and think about how comfortable it would be for him to lie with his head in his lap with your hands running through his hair. The idea makes him all flustered, and he hides his flush behind his mug as he takes a sip of his drink.

“You’re sure that we can’t just watch Doctor Who like we were supposed to?”

All it takes is a small slump of your shoulders at his question and Spencer’s resolve quickly melts like snow in the sun.

“Alright, you win,” he sighs. “I’ll watch the Grinch.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to Spence,” You concede defeat at Spencer’s disinterest in watching the film. You’d already forced him into decorating and you were starting to feel guilty for forcing all of this onto him.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Spencer shakes his head softly at you. You’re sharing something that you enjoy with him, who is he to shut you down? Especially considering how many times he’d over shared about his own interests. “It’s only two hours,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Why did the Grinch’s heart grow three sizes?” Spencer asks, his eyebrow raised as the credits play. “I don’t get it.”

“it’s a metaphor Spence, it doesn’t actually grow three sizes,”

“I know it’s not literally growing,” Spencer dead-pans. “I’m just wondering if there’s a reason why they put three specifically.” He seems to be looking for some deeper meaning in watching this movie, even if he’s not really engaged with it.

“Like is the Grinch’s heart growing meant to be a sign of him becoming a better person?”

“Yeah, because at the beginning it was two sizes too small, so if it grows three sizes, now he has a ‘big heart’ that’s full of love and empathy and all that stuff,”

Spencer’s gaze burns into you as you explain the metaphor to him. It’s not an ‘i’m trying to really understand this‘ gaze, but rather a ‘I’m engaging in something you enjoy and trying to understand and you’re so perfect when you talk’ gaze.

“Like, he’s realising ‘hey Christmas isn’t so bad when you have people who love and care about you to spend it with’,”

“Is that what Christmas is to you?” Spencer asks, his tone genuinely intrigued. “A way of spending time with the people you love?”

“Yeah-“ You give him a small nod, joined with a yawn as you stretch your arms up above your head. “That’s the whole point of Christmas,”

Spencer smiles warmly at you, although he’s not entirely sure whether it’s because of how you describe what Christmas means to you, or because when you stretch you scrunch up your nose like a cat would. “What now?”

“I should probably head home and stop bothering you with my overwhelming desire for christmas to just happen,” You let your arms fall back to your sides with a satisfied sigh, glancing at the grandfather clock Spencer has against his wall. 12:25. Looks like you spent longer decorating than you thought.

“It’s pretty late,”

“Yeah, it is,” Spencer follows your eyes over to the clock, hiding his subconscious disappointment over your inevitable departure as you retreat to his front door to put your shoes on.

“Let me escort you to your car,” he says quietly, following after you. “It’s dark outside.”

You chuckle softly at his offer, leaning your shoulder against his apartment door and lifting up your legs one at a time to tie your shoelaces. “You really don’t have to Spence it’s alright,”

“I want to,” His tone is soft, and you can’t help but notice that he cuts off his sentence abnormally quickly as if his words got stuck in his throat, and as you drop your left leg back down to the floor and turn your head to him, you notice he’s not looking at you, but above you.

Your eyes follow his up to what he’s looking at, catching on the mix of white and green fauna directly above your head.

Oh-

You’d royally screwed yourself over. God damn it. The night was going so well.

As you follow Spencer’s gaze, he immediately becomes distracted by the way your eyes are looking up at the mistletoe above you, glistening softly under the warm lighting in his apartment, and he almost implodes because god damn is your face gorgeous when you’re all flustered.

“Did you know that mistletoe was originally used by ancient celtic druids as a symbol of good luck to protect against evil spirits?”

There’s that distraction technique again. Although, his tangent is much more of a ramble as his eyes examine the mistletoe above the door as if it’s an exhibit in a museum.

“The Greeks also used mistletoe as a medicine for almost every ailment you can think of, from cramping to epilepsy and even poisonings. The custom of kissing underneath mistletoe wasn’t developed until the 1700s when victorians-“

“Spencer stop.”

He does ask you ask immediately, blinking at you as his eyes snap downwards towards your face, his expression a mix of hurt and embarrassment. “Oh- I- I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Just-“ You put your hand up in front you effectively halting his attempt at an apology. “Stop speaking,”

“Right… I’m sorry…” Spencer purses his lips together, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he’s sure it’ll bleed.

He didn’t want to make the situation uncomfortable. That was quite literally the last thing he wanted to do. God, what was he thinking? Why did he let you hang that god damn plant above his door?

“I’ll- you-“ He takes a sharp breath in, closing his eyes for a second. “I’ll see you on Monda-“

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence as you again stop him from speaking, but not with a raised hand or a verbal signal.

No. Instead, his words are ripped of the chance to be spoken by a tug on the collar of his t-shirt and a gentle pressure against his lips.

Spencer can’t help the widening of his eyes as your lips press against his, nor can he stop the gasp that escapes his mouth as you effectively swallow his apology with your lips.

Those soft, perfect lips that Spencer had been dreaming about for god knows how long.

No, he knows exactly how long. 1,472 days, 6 hours and 15 minutes.

The sharp tick of the grandfather clock cuts through the soft silence between you.

1,472 days, 6 hours and sixteen minutes.

He effectively melts in your affection, the feeling of your hands sliding into his hair at his temples, the subtle taste of mint on your lips from the candy cane you’d been eating whilst watching the movie.

And the heat, oh, the heat.

He never knew one person could be this hot, this warm.

Spencer’s hands go to your waist as he gently pulls you further against him, his eyelashes fluttering softly as they fall closed.

You're kissing the man of your dreams. And enjoying every second of it.

And the best part? He's enjoying it just as much.

“Merry Christmas Spencer…” Your words are little more than a whisper as you mumble them against his lips, your thumbs tracing slow lines in front of his ears.

Spencer can’t help but gasp softly at the weight of your words, and this time not because you’d caught him by surprise, but because he's completely lost in you.

He’s starting to understand the Grinch metaphor you were explaining to him earlier, although his heart doesn’t feel like it’s growing three times over. It feels as though it’s growing ten times over. A hundred times over. That it might burst out of his chest with just how much he was feeling in this moment.

"Merry Christmas..."

He whispers your name softly, barely able to get it out over the slight quiver in his breathing.

This was the best Christmas present he’d ever gotten.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #erotomania #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

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calicoheartz · 1 month

Note

need need need something about Caitlin dating a famous popstar, think Sabrina carpenter

☆ espresso ; Caitlin Clark

summary : caitlin clark x pop star reader!

synopsis : you are the music scenes next hot thing , who happens to be dating worldwide famous wnba player (set a tiny bit into the future)

warnings : tiniest bit suggestive if you squint , pure fluff !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n: thank you to the lovely person who suggested this! i changed some of the lyrics in the song for it to make sense but it shouldn’t be too noticeable. Enjoy ◡̈

You were the music industry’s next hot thing. From performing at smaller venues, to headlining at Coachella; you were everywhere. Along with your wnba superstar, Caitlin Clark.

The two of you had met while you were preforming a gig at a local bar , a little right before you got your big break. Ever since then, the two of you had been inseparable. Both instantly drawn to each others passion and drive for your careers.

But with Caitlin’s demanding basketball schedule and your international shows and tours , maintaining your relationship proved to be a challenge. Only relying on calls , texts , and surprise visits whenever you can to steal a moment together amidst your busy lives.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you’ve seen your loving girlfriend. With the wnba draft and Coachella starting to kick off, the universe was simply pulling you two away from eachother.

You were sitting in your dressing room , preparing to go on stage to kick off the second weekend at the bustling festival , the biggest festival of the year for that matter. Your nerves were practically eating you alive, you knew she would be in audience. You toyed with your hair as your makeup artist finished the final touches of your look , as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. The skirt that perfectly hugged your curves , delicately adorned with lace and bows , your signature look.

You soon snapped back to reality, with the cheers from the audience slowly making its way into your mind. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the moment that could make or break your career. You planned on preforming your newly released song espresso , as a way to give your girlfriend a little treat on her first day back.

You made your way to the stage , sporting your signature beach waves and skimpy clothes, the intro to the song soon began and your eyes darted across the crowd. Begging to meet with the one pair of eyes you can call her own.

You hear the crowd begin to chant your name , you lock eyes with Caitlin briefly, sending a smirk your way. Prompting you to slowly begin to sway your hips as you begin to sing..

❝ now she’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night oh, is it that sweet? I guess so ❞

you turn towards caitlin , seeing a big grin on her face , as she very well knows the melodic tune is referencing your whirlwind romance. Your hips continue to sway as the lyrics danced off the tip of your tongue , hitting every note in the process.

❝ And i got this one girl

And she won’t stop calling

when they act this way..

I know i got ‘em ! ❞

The crowd begins to scream , noticing your small wink towards caitlin , making it painfully obvious of your ode to her throughout the song

As the lyrics then again roll off your tongue like sweet honey, you continue to prance around the stage earning gasps and applause from the audience, and most importantly; a hungry gaze from your girlfriend. Her eyes practically undressed you as they wandered from your hips to your face, and vice versa. You immediately felt butterflies in your stomach, it had been so long since shes looked at you with those eyes. And as much as you wanted to jump off the stage and into her arms, you only had to finish the rest of the chorus and verse before concluding your set.

You began…

❝ I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer…Oh, she looks so cute wrapped around my finger! ❞

The music continues and you feel as if you are on cloud nine. If this doesnt fully establish your relationship with cait, then youre not sure what will. You practically feel her eyes burning into you as you resume your soft sways, slowly becoming more provocative as you reach near the end of the song. You hair slowly flows with the gentle breeze, as you shoot a glance towards your girlfriend, receiving a approving nod in return. You hear your cue, and make your way to the front to face the audience head on, you quickly hit your iconic signature pose while belting

❝ Mmm, that's that me espresso❞

And the audience erupts with claps and chants as you quickly exit the stage, locking eyes with your manager who signals you to head to the back. As you make your way down there, you feel a strong and warming embrace wrapped around your hips, with soft kisses peppering your neck. “Cait!” you squealed, unable to hide your excitement to see the brunette, she grins at your reaction, snaking her arm beneath you as she slowly begins to carry you to your dressing room.

She soon gently puts you down, as she gently begins caressing your cheek. “You did amazing” she muttered, “everytime you preform you never refuse to amaze me with the amount of talent that you have-” you cut her off with a deep and tender kiss, tasting the mango flavored lipbalm that glistened on her lips.

You giggle, simply muttering , youre my honey bee.. Come get this pollen ;)

anywaysss this is my go at pop star reader x cc !! tbh i feel like this is train wreck but you be the judge of that! tysm for reading 🎀

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #Iowa #caitmylove #kate martin #hawkeye #22 #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #wcbb x reader #wcbb #wlw imagine #wlw #sabrina carpenter

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anonymousewrites · 2 months

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance

Saiki Kusuo x Non-Binary! Reader

Book 1

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Troublesome "Friends"

Chapter One: Girl Problems and Beach Woes

Chapter Two: Ghosts and Guardians

Chapter Three: Sports Festival

Chapter Four: Safety Drills and Clairvoyants

Chapter Five: Ramen Shops

Chapter Six: Christmas Eve

Chapter Seven: New Year's Day

Chapter Eight: Valentine’s Day Chaos and Movie Night Misunderstandings

Chapter Nine: Mothers and Meetups

Chapter Ten: Traveling to Okinawa

Chapter Eleven: Accidents and Reveals

Chapter Twelve: Insecurities and Sweets

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Chapter Fourteen: Festival Display

Chapter Fifteen: Festival Problems

Chapter Sixteen: Taking Teruhashi Out (on a Not-Date)

Chapter Seventeen: Delinquent Run-In and Teruhashi’s Home-Visit

Chapter Eighteen: Karaoke Party

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Chapter Twenty: Crepes and Breaks

Chapter Twenty-One: Adventures in London

Chapter Twenty-Two: Summer Break Days

Chapter Twenty-Three: Rich Transfer Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Four: Celebrations

Specials:

Pride Specials: 2024

Taglist:

@elaemae

@painstakingly-juno

@characterreaderwriter

@melovepurple

@sleep-7372

@w0mank1sser

@geminigengar

@noodleryworld

@leonardo-dabitchy

@janezee12751275

@xenop0p

@ex160-blog1

@boogiemansbitch

@dmitrytherat

@yuriisclumsy

@sixxze

@constellationguy

@k03ume

@sweatyinternettrash

@paastaboi

@unorthodox-gob

@girlswhopanic

@h-i-g-h-w-a-y-t-o-h-e-l-l-l

@drowningfishy

@rinwho

@izzieg3987

@candylp

@jmclouds

@ittomain1

@justamina-blog

@newtscreatures347269

@digital-dumbass

@chronovala

@yappydoo

@mymomsdisappointment

#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #saiki kusuo #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki fic

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eretzyisrael · 7 months

Text

This account, first published in JewishNews, is written by an anonymous London-based Guardian employee who has family living on a kibbutz in southern Israel. It offers a look at life in the newspaper’s offices in the days since Hamas’s attack on Israel.

I wake up on October 7 to a text from my brother-in-law: “Thoughts are with your family in Israel. I hope everyone is safe.”

I check the news. Hamas has entered southern Israel. They’re in a kibbutz. My partner’s family is in that kibbutz. His cousin is nine months pregnant. He’s in contact with them; they’re in the safe room. Terrorists are outside.

I check social media. Reports of hostages, maybe three. I check again; perhaps ten.

There has been a massacre at a music festival. I look at the video. Who do I know there? I check social media again; there are videos of hostages. I look at their faces. Do I know them?

We lose contact with family in the kibbutz. I tell myself that the phone lines are down because the IDF are there. I watch Hamas footage as it is coming out. I go on Telegram for the first time in my life and I see a room full of bodies covered in blood. I see children gunned down. I see the bodies of raped women. I see families holding each other as Hamas livestreams atrocities. I look for people I might know.

My partner and I walk 30,000 steps. There’s nothing we can do. Late that evening we hear that his family is safe but their house is gone, neighbors are dead.

I don’t understand. I could have easily been there and part of me thinks I was.

I look at the papers the next day. The newspaper I work for has a tank on the front page: ‘Hundreds die and hostages held as Hamas assault shocks Israel’—victorious terrorists hold a Palestinian flag. The subheading reads ‘Netanyahu declares war as 150 Israelis die. 230 Palestinians killed in air strikes.’

I don’t understand. I know people, Israelis, who were murdered. They did not “die,” as if in some kind of accident. I saw footage of terrorism. It was not an “assault.”

The front page of The Observer, The Guardian’s sister Sunday newspaper, on October 8, the day after the Hamas massacre. (via The Observer)

On Sunday, we get more information about what happened to my partner’s family, about how Hamas set the family’s house on fire when they thought it was empty, how my partner’s cousin screamed for her life when the room filled with smoke, how her husband had to pin her down to stop her cries, how Hamas laughed when they realized the family would need to crawl out of the room, how they refused to leave the burning building. We hear that they somehow survived and walked out through pools of their neighbors’ blood, pieces of dead children littering the street; kids who’d been playing on a Saturday morning.

I’m safe, I’m fine, but I can’t comprehend the color of the sky or the rustle of the trees. I look around at people enjoying their Sunday and I think: Do they not know what is happening? I check the news again and see there are more hostages. I look through the names.

There are still terrorists in Israel.

I listen to the radio, one Israeli interviewee and then one Palestinian. I can hear that the interviewer is struggling as defenders of Hamas justify terrorism. I don’t understand. Is this how they reported the Russian invasion of Ukraine? Did they platform Putin’s people?

I check social media. A friend has posted: “They’ve broken out of jail.” Another has said: “Today is a day of celebration,” and someone else has shared an infographic of “Settler colonialism for beginners.” My old flatmate tells her followers she will be at the demonstration outside the Israeli embassy and she invites people to join her.

On Monday I go to work. How are your family, a colleague asks. When I answer, she squirms. Can’t they just leave, my colleague says. No, they can’t actually.

I look at the morning newsletter for the newspaper I work for. It breaks down the number of dead Palestinian children. It does not mention dead Israeli children.

My group chats are exploding as family and friends work out what has been happening, who is alive. I go back to the news. I type the name of the kibbutz into the wires. Nothing. I read how Hamas invaded “settlements.” They’re not settlements! They’re small, pre-state kibbutzim.

I find out that a friend of a friend was at the music festival and is missing. I’m shaking at work.

I see a colleague who had posted about “decolonization” all over social media over the weekend. They’re laughing with the rest of their team. They’re having a great day. I used to love their podcast, full of hot takes and celeb gossip. Now they’ve evolved into an expert on the Middle East. It doesn’t look like their family is in the middle of it, though.

No one else at work speaks to me about it. I nod my way through conversations about fonts and I stumble home.

I go back the next day. I look at the front page. A photo of Gaza and “violence escalates.” Israelis “dead” but Palestinians “killed.” If they can’t empathize with the Jews now, they never will.

I email the editors. I tell them that my newspaper’s coverage has been upsetting. They tell me that their thoughts are with my family but they stand by the paper’s reporting.

I hear colleagues complaining about the newspaper’s “American readers. They’re always accusing us of antisemitism.” They’re laughing.

I leave work early to go to a vigil outside Downing Street. People quietly weep. Everyone there is Jewish.

I’ve seen on social media that I know people going to a demonstration. Later, I see photos of it: people on lampposts, red flares, Jews hiding inside, the Israeli embassy boxed in. All kinds of people are united in the chant, “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” In Sydney, they are shouting: “Gas the Jews.”

On Tuesday, I find out that my friend’s friend at the music festival is dead. I remember the day I’d spent with him on the beach in Tel Aviv last month. He’d gotten back from South America and was excited to travel again. He had been gentle and sweet. I don’t understand.

On Wednesday, I go to work again, and the next day, and the next day. Finally, the pictures from the kibbutz come out. I look at all of them. I rewatch the footage. I bear witness. No colleague asks me how I am again that week.

I go to synagogue at the weekend and cry with my community. The rabbi holds space for pain. I say Kaddish for the boy at the music festival I will never talk to again.

Back at work I see someone pointing to a photo of the Israeli flag burning in the newspaper. They laugh, “This is my favorite picture.”

I remember telling my family that when I next went to Israel I’d lie to my colleagues and tell them it was Spain. I’d lie because my colleagues had said to me of Israel: “You gotta go while you still can.”

Now another colleague asks me what I think of Netanyahu. Do I hold him responsible? I explain that I have protested against Netanyahu but the only people responsible for October 7 are Hamas. She keeps asking me about the settlements. I tell her they’re bad but she won’t stop. “Don’t you think Bibi has a lot to do with this?” I ask her if she has family in the region. She does not.

I’m on social media again. Friends share infographics from Jewish Voice for Peace and heavy-hitting images from the Gaza Health Ministry. I don’t disagree with what they’re posting but they said nothing when October 7 happened. I start unfollowing decades-old friends.

In the days that follow, my synagogue receives a bomb threat, my local rail station has photos of missing children ripped off, I hear of more friends of friends who have been killed. I hear of others who are now enlisted. I hear that a synagogue president in America has been stabbed to death and synagogues all over the world have been vandalized and destroyed.

The newspaper I work for is covering the bombardment of Gaza and I watch in horror. I think that Israel must defend itself. Yet when I say this, people will tell me I am justifying the murder of children. They will tell me it is a genocide.

As the events of October 7 draw on collective Jewish memory of pogroms and the Holocaust, the newspaper I work for will dispel that myth, publishing a piece entitled “Israel must stop weaponizing the Holocaust.” Am I wrong to connect our grief today with that of our past?

In the weeks that follow, I will apply for other jobs and speak exclusively to Jewish friends and family. I will hide myself away from the streets of London and the waves of social media.

I will not forget the photos and videos I saw on October 7, but I start to think about how this day will be marked; how my children’s children will take part in a new commemoration, where we will remember not the Romans or the Persians or the Nazis but Hamas, and how we survived.

Intergenerational trauma has been retriggered but now is not the time to dwell on our historical violent oppression. Now is the time to rise up, speak out, and defend our right to exist. Now is not the time for colleagues to dismiss Jewish pain or publish inflammatory op-eds that will spark more violence.

I will keep applying for other jobs.

#Israel #The Guardian #Antisemitism #hamas

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