#AWS System State Manager

[techdirectarchive]

Veeam backup for aws Processing postgres rds failed: No valid combination of the network settings was found for the worker configuration

In this article, we shall discuss various errors you can encounter when implementing “Veeam Backup for AWS to protect RDS, EC2 and VPC“. Specifically, the following error “veeam backup for aws Processing postgres rds failed: No valid combination of the network settings was found for the worker configuration” will be discussed. A configuration is a group of network settings that Veeam Backup for…

[snoopyhq]

Jealous viktor + reader 🙏

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ so with my best, my very best, i set you free

(i love laufey 🗣️ her cover of "i wish you love" with the icelandic orchestra? 2:49 of heaven)

type: viktor x reader

summary: headcanons and a drabble of jealous viktor. headcanons are pre-relationship, the drabble is the established relationship ✪ ꨄ︎

word count: 2415

a/n: OMG FIRST ASK I'M SO HONORED I'M SO EXCITED YIPPEE !!! will be working on the others whenever i have the time, but TRUST i am plotting and scheming <3 any other askers, feel free to drop by! i hope i did your request justice, dear anon.

It was unfair to you, and to him, in his most miserable moments of pure self-pity

Viktor envied those who were healthy. He wished he wasn't born with the circumstances he was dealt. He would trade anything to spend one day with a respiratory system that didn't choke him from the inside out every time he took a breath

He was jealous of you, initially, when you first met

You seemed to have it so easy

Easy laughter, easy conversation, easy friends. You had an established life, you were loved, and you held yourself together with such ease that he sometimes wonders how much you're really holding back

He feels bad for assuming you were dealing with awful problems. But it was very likely. I mean, who was truly that... happy? Well off? At ease with themself and their role in the world? He was probably projecting

And then you somehow, by all the miracles a human could possibly be granted, managed to worm your way into his life and secure yourself there too

Viktor vehemently rejected you at first. He was much like a stray cat. You just gotta continuously give them love on their own terms, and often times, it was slow, and that concept applied to Viktor too

It started with small things. Brief greetings where you called him by name

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Nice to see you here today, Viktor."

"Viktor, you have a good night ok? Get home safe."

Including him in conversations. Commentary about how you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time. The library, a cafe, randomly in the middle of a bustling street

You always had that breezy way of acknowledging things. What a nice coincidence. It was all genuine

You were pleased to be surprised by his presence

Wordlessly holding the door for him, even if you really didn't have to wait. But it was never a big deal, so

He pushed it away. Brushed it off, and tried to forget about it, but those little moments kept circling through his mind like an irritating tape he couldn't dislodge from the disc player, and turning the TV off wasn't doing shit when those scenes were basically burned onto the screen

Like the natural progression of the lunar cycle, Viktor found himself unconsciously expecting you in his life

He can't remember a time when you weren't

Your greetings, your little gestures of kindness, that skill of small talk that meant so, so much to him were cherished like an altar of worship

While he was in no way, shape, or form completely opening himself up to befriending any more people, he began to feel much more natural with you and others you gave your time to

Which brought him to his current bit of emotional turbulence

That prickling in his chest whenever he saw you with other people, giving them your precious words and quality time? Yeah, he shouldn't be feeling this

You were allowed to have other friends! You had people in your life before him, and it doesn't mean you consider him any less just because you spent a moment or two with someone else!

He would tighten his grip on his cane, those mantras feverishly chanting in his mind as he walked in circles, attempting to reign his emotions into a more rational state

He had no right to feel jealous like this, but he couldn't help it

Jayce was his only real companion before, and now that he was a council member, he had less time for Viktor. He had the city to nurture and shape, a big responsibility. The loneliness of the lab was barely a noticeable shift from before

Now, you arrived as if by careless chance, giving him another glimpse, another hit of company, and it was maddeningly cruel to have those doses be in such short time frames

He was given what he needed and wanted, but never fully

Accepting that reality was going to be harder than accepting you truly wishing to be around him, in all his sardonic glory, his blunt nature that had most other people walking away. Just not you

To grapple with this selfish desire was humiliating

He was fully aware of how innately human it all was. If only it were easier. Someday.

For now, he would wait and bask in all the attention and friendship you offered him so willingly

You stood in front of your mirror, going over your carefully put together look one last time. You wanted to look good, and having the outfit fall into place like how you planned it in your head always gave you an extra boost of happiness before you left the house. Straightening the collar of your top one last time, you were finally satisfied.

Viktor was waiting for you in the living room. He stood up when you finally appeared, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek and a murmured "You look enchanting, as always."

You laughed and hugged him.

"And you're dashing, as per usual."

With your arm linked through his, the two of you went on your way. He had planned the date tonight. The winding route led to the sparkling, five-tiered fountain that marked the center of the shopping fair. The flowing water sparkled and danced beneath the fairy lights strung through the evergreens surrounding the space, and orchestral music floated up from where the quintet performed.

You two often went here after a long, stressful week, dining at one of the outdoor tables and idly chatting before hitting a couple stores. Most of the time, it would be the bookshop, the local woodcarver, and then the bakery. You had made it a tradition to buy one another a sweet treat, and it was always a delight to see if your guesses of enjoyment would be met or not.

There was certainly not a lack of other people around you, many of whom were also hand in hand. The center was a popular spot for local students and couples to unwind and spend time together.

When you both had your fill of sights and perusing your respective comforts, you made your way back to the fountain. The musicians had struck up a lively waltz, and many were dancing along now. Both of you shared a look, and moved to join in, albeit towards the edge of the crowds.

Dancing with Viktor was one of your favorite activities. He moved with such assuredness and care for your space, making him all the more captivating in his graces. The respectful placement of his hand on your waist, never going too far and risking your discomfort in public, and never straying away lest he appeared bored, Viktor made sure you were his priority.

After the song concluded, you spun Viktor around slowly to the rhythm of the music drawing to a close, dipping him into a kiss during the final note.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, both from the exertion and from your affection.

"I'm going to grab a drink. We can head home after, if you'd like," you told him, head leaning on his shoulder as he walked with you back up the steps.

"That's perfectly fine. I can hold your bag while you do that."

Oh, Viktor. Ever the gentleman.

You went inside the establishment, and ordered yourself a shirley temple with sweet cream, fully planning to share with him. You knew he had a penchant for the more saccharine in terms of taste. While you waited to order, another patron joined you after placing their order.

"Busy place tonight, isn't it?" they commented.

You turned your attention to them, surprised a stranger was making conversation with you, but you didn't mind. All harmless small talk, after all. You would be leaving soon anyways when your order was finished, so why not pass the time with pleasantries?

"It's one of the most popular cafes around here," you replied. "Friday nights always means live music, so people love to flock here. I should know. I frequent here often." you finished with a smile, and received one in return.

They continued engaging you in conversation, and you soon realized it was taking a bit for your drink. A shirley temple wasn't complicated, and you were worried something was wrong. Maybe they were short-staffed tonight? Did an accident occur in the back?

"Are you worried about your drink?"

"No, not really. More so the workers here," you were honest. Some of them were fellow students you see at the academy, and others knew you as a regular, and you had grown quite fond of the staff as they were of you.

"That's a surprise. You're very sweet."

Their order quickly arrived, and they bid you farewell before departing into the night. You walked up to the counter, asking if everyone was ok. The barista reassured you, saying it was only going to take a little while, and that everything is alright now. Relieved, you went back to your perch.

Outside, Viktor was waiting anxiously. This was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated.

When someone emerged from the cafe, he was tempted to get up and ask them if they'd seen you in there.

Yes, my partner. About this tall, very beautiful eyes, a smile you can't miss. Have you seen...?

God. He was contemplating approaching a stranger just to inquire about you. Luckily (or was it?) for him, they must've sensed him sneaking glances at the cafe and at them, because they approached him cheerily.

"You look a little lost. Need some help?" they asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm just waiting for someone."

At that, they perked up.

"It wouldn't happen to be someone wearing the same colored blouse as your vest would it?"

Yes. It was. He confirmed it.

"That's perfect actually! I was just talking to them, and since you know them, do you think they would be interested in exchanging contact information with me? They were quite lovely company, and I wouldn't mind getting to know them better."

Viktor could feel his heart drop and the temperature in his soul rise several degrees. What was going on? Where were you? What had happened in those minutes that you were gone?

"I will... ask them," he attempted to keep his tone even. "Mind giving me your contact information to pass along?"

The stranger happily handed Viktor a piece of paper, their messy scrawl sending a sting of irritation through him. That penmanship was not worthy of you, and would certainly not compare to the intricate scripting of his own handwritten notes and letters to you.

When you finally rejoined him, you could tell immediately something was off. You questioned him about it, and he huffed, telling you not to worry about it as you walked home. He didn't even pay any mind to the bag that hung on your arm, too caught up in his insecurities and worries.

That stranger was so much like you. So approachable. Good conversationalist. He couldn't help but imagine a scenario of you two getting along a little too well, and that made something deep inside him hurt. Clearly, he wasn't as good as keeping his thoughts off his face as he believed, or you had simply gotten better at understanding him, because you promptly asked him again.

"Come on, Viktor. Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"If you knew the full extent of what I'm thinking of, you wouldn't be so quick to call my mind beautiful," he grumbled tersely.

"You can't judge my reaction for me. Spill."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Finally, he confessed. It felt like ripping out stitches from his tongue.

"... someone at the coffee shop. They asked me if I knew you, and then asked if you would be interested in their contact information."

At that, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. Ah. You were blissfully oblivious of the jarring events.

"Viktor, I promise nothing is wrong. We were both waiting for our drinks, and they happened to be making small talk with me. That's all. I love you with my whole heart, and no one else can ever--will not ever--compare."

His heart fluttered. He knew that was the realistic truth, but it was nice to hear reassurance from you anyways.

"You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," you said sincerely.

Setting your bags and drink on the nearby bench, you swept him into your arms and twirled him around beneath the streetlight's warm glow.

"I love you," you declared, hands holding his face tightly. Your thumb brushed against the beauty mark above his lip. "And if you ever need reminders of that, you tell me immediately. I will literally drop everything and make sure your doubt disappears completely for as long as I can hold it back."

He gazed into your eyes, his own now slightly misted. Their glossiness reflected warmth and adoration as he took in your face. Seeing the conviction there did something to him. He didn't know what, but he found himself giving in to the urge to just close the distance and kiss you right then and there, open street be damned.

It began to snow. He only realized when he parted from you, the taste of your chapstick still lingering. He looked up, watching the delicate flakes be illuminated by the warm, golden glow. If there was a visualization for the love he felt, it would be that he decided. It all just built and built from all the little things, and filled him with such life it almost hurt.

"We should go home," he whispered, looking back at you.

"Oh yeah, we should. I was going to tell you!" you gasped, running back for your drink and the bag. "They gave me extra cakes and rolls. The last ones of the specialty desserts before their next seasonal delights, so we can share them." you beamed.

"Really? That's quite generous of them."

He wasn't surprised. You were just so damn lovable. He would give you all the baked goods you desired and more, if only for another smile from you directed at him. His fingers intertwined with yours, fondness consuming him as you chatted about the different flavors of the desserts, which ones you were most excited about, and which ones you think he'd like.

He had to agree with your assessments. A dark chocolate and orange mousse did sound quite appealing for him. He already knew he'd let you have the last bite, regardless.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"You can throw away the contact. I don't need it."

I already have you.

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter one

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Eddie leaves Hawkins (and his girl) behind to chase his dreams with Corroded Coffin. 2 years later, things have definitely changed.

Chapter Warnings:

Pregnancy, labor/birth, blood, traumatic birth/complications, secret baby

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N:

This is sort of a prologue, but I’m calling it chapter one. I’m really excited about this new series and I hope you will be, too!

—

“It’s my dream, baby. I can’t let this opportunity pass us by. This could change our lives.”

You had heard it over and over again. The same words coming from the same man with his wide puppy dog eyes, holding both your hands in his as he occasionally reached up to wipe your tears away again. He knew he was breaking your heart, and he hated that more than anything, but he also felt confident he was making the right decision.

You had been thrilled for him when he walked home into the trailer, screaming about how a scout had actually been to The Hideout and approached Corroded Coffin (specifically Eddie himself) after their show. The two of you stayed up all night talking excitedly, thinking of what this would mean for the band, for Eddie’s dream. Then he proceeded to give you the best sex of your life.

Things moved fast after that. It turned out the label really liked Corroded Coffin, and they wanted them in the studio immediately. And it really was a dream, at first. Eddie and the guys had just graduated and they immediately dumped all their time into the studio and perfecting their songs. You spent near every day lounging around the studio, watching the band record, a grin on your face so big it hurt watching Eddie do what he does, the happiness simply exuding from him. You loved him deeply, and seeing him beginning to really live his dream was everything you ever hoped for.

When the album was done, it released to more success than any of you could have dreamed of. Corroded Coffin was building a substantial and dedicated fan base already, they were on the radio, everyone was begging for them to perform in their city. That’s when the tour started being discussed. And their new manager began to point out the fact that there were no opportunities in Hawkins - the band would be better off moving somewhere like California.

You had never really thought Eddie wanted to leave like that. Sure he always dreamed of the band making it big, but you always assumed at the end of the day he would come home to Hawkins, come home to you. But it was obvious immediately that Eddie and the guys were completely on board with the idea of moving.

“Eddie, I can’t move to California,” you had explained, pacing around your tiny shared bedroom and huffing a humorless laugh. “My family is here. My mom and Dustin. All my friends are here. I’ve never even lived anywhere else.”

Eddie had ran his hands through his wild curls, another sigh escaping his lips. “I know, baby. But we could make a life out there, you and me.”

Tears had begun to well up in your eyes. “I would be left alone all the time, Eds. You’d be so busy with all the band stuff and being famous, and I’d be stuck alone, states away from home with no friends or family or support system.”

Eddie’s face fell, because he knew that was true. He hated the idea of being apart from you, but he hated the idea of making you follow him and be miserable, too. “We could do long distance?”

The tears actually began to fall then, and you collapsed on the bed next to him, your face in your hands. “I don’t know, Eddie. It sounds awful.”

Eddie didn’t say anything else as he started rubbing your back. He didn’t know if there was anything else to say. Those were your options, and none of them were great. But he knew if he passed up this opportunity, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

There were many variations of the same argument over the next few months as Eddie and the band prepared for the move to California and the beginning of the tour. There were a lot of tears. A lot of fighting followed by make up sex. None of the arguments ever made any actual progress, you always found yourselves stuck right back at the beginning.

Now Eddie stood in front of you, holding both your hands in his as you cried your eyes out in front of him. His heart was shattered in his chest. But the day had finally come, the bus was packed and waiting as the band said their goodbyes. It was somehow one of the best days of his life, while also being the worst.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come with me?” Eddie asked you again, although at this point it was too late, they were leaving now.

You sniffled, your face already red and eyes puffy from the amount of crying you’d done in the past few months but especially today. It seemed you only got more and more emotional about the whole thing as time went on. “I can’t,” you said, which is exactly what Eddie knew you’d say.

Eddie looked at you with the pain visible in his eyes. He moved his hands to gently hold either side of your face and pulled you in, placing a gentle, lingering kiss on your lips. Like it was the last time.

“I love you,” he said. “I will always love you.”

You were pretty sure there was nothing left of your heart to break. “I love you too, Eddie.”

He pulled you into a tight hug. You never wanted to leave that embrace - it felt so final, and you always hated goodbyes. Eddie held you until one of the crew members tapped him on the shoulder, telling him it was time to go.

He pulled away from you reluctantly. He looked you in the eyes for a moment before placing a kiss to your forehead. Then he was turning and walking away.

You watched him go, duffel bag and guitar case slung over his shoulder, the rest of everyone’s belongings and the band’s supplies packed tight under the bus. You watched as he climbed the stairs and turned, giving you one last look before you lost sight of him.

You stayed and watched until the bus drove away, down the road and completely out of your view. Taking your heart and soul with it.

—

It was two weeks later when the positive pregnancy test stared you in the face.

You couldn’t believe it, but at the same time, it did seem like that would be just your luck.

You had been feeling sick for the past week, but convinced yourself it was the nerves and emotions over Eddie leaving and the break up. You hadn’t even heard from Eddie since he left, despite his insistence that he’d call, relationship or not. You hoped he had just been busy and he hadn’t simply forgotten about you that quickly. You’d been together for two years before he left, you didn’t think you were that unimportant to him.

You cried on the bathroom floor of your new apartment for who knows how long. Your life was over, you felt quite sure. Eddie was long gone, who knows where at this point, with no plans to return. And now you were carrying his baby.

You didn’t say a word about it to anyone for a while. You had to work through it in your own head first. What did you even want to do? The thought of an abortion crossed your mind, but ultimately you felt you couldn’t go through with it. You could handle things on your own, you thought. Your waitressing job at the diner paid well enough for you to live off of, especially with all the overtime you picked up. Could you have and raise this baby on your own?

A week after the positive test, you broke the news to your mom and younger brother. Your mom cried, of course, which made you feel terrible. You had always imagined telling this news one day to be a joyful occasion, but that wasn’t your reality now. Your reality was being a single mother at 18. Dustin was in shock, but he seemed excited at the prospect of being an uncle, at least. You avoided all questions about Eddie.

Next, you broke the news to your best friends Steve and Robin, leaning over the counter of Family Video. They may have been more shocked than your family had been, and they both absolutely freaked out.

“You’re gonna have a baby,” Steve had choked out, as if that part was hard enough to say, “at 18, by yourself?”

Having the facts spelled out in front of you like that did nothing to help, and you burst into tears for the millionth time in the middle of the video store. Robin shot Steve a look before she was hopping over the counter to wrap you in a tight hug.

“What Steve meant to say,” Robin said, glaring at your mutual friend over the top of your head, “is that we’re here for you, whatever you need. You don’t have to do this all alone.”

You knew you needed to tell Eddie. And you definitely did have every intention to…but he never called. Never. Not once. And that hurt you so deeply, and made you so angry, you refused to reach out to him first. So…he never got the news.

True to their word, Steve and Robin were the best support system. Dustin, too. Your mom called you every single night needing to know exactly how you and the baby were and how you’d spent your day and that you were making good choices, which drove you a little bit crazy but at least she cared.

Your pregnancy progressed healthily, and the weeks went by faster than you were prepared for. Watching your body grow and become unfamiliar to you was…bizarre. And you missed Eddie. You started seeing Corroded Coffin popping up on magazine covers at the grocery store check out. You’d lay your hand over your growing belly and think about what could have been, what wasn’t.

Then you’d shove the magazine back in the rack and push him out of your mind.

Steve and Robin loved the belly. They found it fascinating, even if it made Steve a little squeamish. The first time the baby kicked you had been hanging around Family Video on your day off, looking through the new releases for a movie night with Dustin. You felt the strange flutter beneath your skin and you gasped, your hand shooting to that spot on your belly. You felt the kick again, against your hand.

Steve and Robin’s heads both shot up at the sound of your gasp. Robin was hopping over the counter and rushing to your side before Steve could catch up. “What is it? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” Robin asked in a rush.

You just laughed, taking Robin’s hand and placing it where you had felt the kick. She looked at you strangely until you felt it again - her jaw dropped. “No way!!!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Steve asked, confused and not liking feeling left out. Robin moved her hand as you let go and grabbed Steve’s instead, placing it in the same spot. Sure enough, there was another kick moments later.

“Holy shit!” Steve said, but he jerked his hand back like he’d been burned. “It moved!”

You laughed. “That was the first kick!”

Robin cooed to the unborn baby, her hands moving back to the bump. Steve kept his distance, but watched the two of you.

“It’s weird,” Steve finally said, “like an alien. Have you seen Alien?”

Despite his squeamishness around a lot of pregnancy topics, Steve was an amazing support the entire time. He drove you to every appointment, Robin usually tagging along as well. They were there along with Dustin and your mom as you found out the gender of the baby - a boy.

Names were a big debate for a while. Not only choosing a name for your baby boy, but deciding what last name you would give him. You felt bad giving him your own last name and erasing Eddie entirely, but it also made no sense to give the baby the same last name as him when he didn’t even know of his existence and would never meet or know him.

You went into labor early, at 35 weeks. It caught you by surprise when your water broke and contractions began at 2am while you were snuggled in bed. Steve and Robin were going to take turns staying at your apartment when you hit 38 weeks, but you never made it that far, so you were alone with no transportation. You fought off a panic attack as you stumbled into the kitchen and picked up the phone, breathing through an intense contraction.

“‘lo?” was the sleepy reply when your call was picked up. It was obvious that Steve had been in deep sleep.

“Stevie?” you had said, knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the countertop. “The baby is coming.”

“What?” he certainly sounded a lot more awake after that. “Like, now? It’s too early!”

“I know it’s early, but it’s definitely happening,” you said.

“Shit, I- okay. Okay, shit. I’m on the way right now.”

The call ended before you were able to say anything else, so you hung the phone back on the wall. You grabbed your bags from your bedroom, feeling grateful you’d packed so early. You paced as you waited for Steve, you couldn’t stand to sit still when contractions started wracking through your body. It’s the only thing that controlled some of the pain as you remembered your breathing exercises.

Thankfully it didn’t take Steve long at all. You heard his tires squealing as he sped to a stop right in front of your apartment building. You didn’t even have to look to know it was him. He was bursting through your front door moments later, sweating and looking panicked. He was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that was on backwards, his usually perfect hair completely mussed up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing onto your shoulders and looking you all over as if you might have had the baby already and hid him somewhere.

“I’m okay,” you said, needing him to calm down. “The contractions are bad and they’re coming on fast but I’m okay. Your shirt’s backwards, by the way.”

Steve looked down at himself, a blush rising to his cheeks when he realized you were right. He pulled the shirt over his head and spun it around. “Sorry,” he said shyly.

Steve grabbed your bags and helped you into his car. Less than an hour later you were set up in your hospital room, dressed in an ugly gown and hooked up to a bunch of monitors. Steve sat next to you, having already called Robin and your family for you.

When things had calmed and you were relaxing in the bed between contractions, Steve looked at you seriously.

“Do you want me to try to reach Eddie?” he asked tentatively, cautious of your reaction.

The reminder of Eddie on that day hit you harder than ever. Did you want Eddie to be there? Yes, more than anything. But the reality was that he was god knows where, living his rockstar lifestyle, completely unaware his ex-girlfriend back home was preparing to give birth to their son. It was partially your fault, you knew, but still. You didn’t imagine he would have turned the bus around and quit the band to come play happy family with you, anyway.

“No,” you told Steve simply. He nodded and squeezed your hand once, although he looked like he had more to say.

When it was time to push, you were surrounded by support. Steve, Robin, and your mom stayed in the room with you - Dustin, who had no desire to see any of what was about to go down, moved back to the waiting room until it was safe to return.

The birth was more complicated than expected. You pushed for a long time, your mom wiping the sweat from your face as the pain went on seemingly endlessly. The doctor started talking about a c-section, but you didn’t want that. The thought terrified you. It motivated you to push even harder, and within the next 5 minutes, the baby was out and the room was filled with the sound of newborn cries. The doctor asked if Steve wanted to cut the cord, and he said yes without hesitating.

Your mom started bawling immediately, even Robin and Steve were tearing up at the sight of the baby, your baby boy. You tried to lean up to see him, but your head was so woozy, the second you lifted it from the pillow you felt like you were spinning. Nurses were working on the baby across the room while the doctor still hadn’t moved from between your legs - but you couldn’t get your brain to form a proper thought. Your vision was starting to get blurry and nausea roiled in your stomach.

The chatter in the room turned frantic, and you saw Steve turn to look at you in a panic, your mother’s sobs sounding less like happy crying now. You were confused as your mom and friends were quickly pushed away from your side and the sidebars on the hospital bed were lifted and locked into place. You caught some mentions of “emergency surgery” and “bleeding” as the bed started moving before everything went dark.

You woke up in a quiet, brightly lit room. You squinted from the lights as you opened your eyes, looking around you confused. You felt incredibly sore, and more alert than before but still a little out of it.

“You’re awake,” a relieved voice said, and you turned to see Robin by your bedside, looking exhausted.

You went to speak but found that your mouth was incredibly dry, your throat sore. Robin noticed immediately and grabbed a jug of water, holding the straw to your lips to help you drink. You accepted the help gratefully, and the ice water soothed your mouth and throat.

“Thank you,” you croaked out as she set the water jug back on the rolling table. “What…happened?”

Robin looked at you sympathetically. “You were bleeding really bad. They had to take you back for emergency surgery. But you’re okay now,” she added the last part quickly, seeing the panic rising on your face. “They got it under control. You’re going to be just fine.”

You nodded, and Robin looked behind you as another voice spoke. You hadn’t even realized you weren’t the only two people in the room.

“Somebody wants to meet you, if you’re up for it.”

You turned to see Steve, holding a little bundle of blankets gently in his arms. He looked even more tired than Robin, but he also looked happy. Your eyes locked in on the tiny bundle as Steve brought it closer before leaning down and placing it gently in your arms.

He was perfect. Sure everyone thinks their baby is the cutest, but this one? This had to be the cutest baby to ever exist. Tears began to fall and a huge smile spread its way across your cheeks as you took in the sight of him. You looked him all over, wanting to memorize every part of him.

He looked like Eddie. The realization sent a pang of guilt and hurt through your heart. He had a head full of dark brown curly hair, and looked up at you with the same big brown doe eyes his father had that got him anything he wanted. You realized you had just created another little person who would have that power over you. He was still so small, only born 5lbs 6oz. But he was healthy, and strong. The hospital just wanted to keep him for a few extra days since he was premature.

Your mom and Dustin returned a minute later, both relieved to see you awake and alert. Dustin got to hold his nephew for the first time, and you took a photo on the polaroid camera you packed. You got a picture of everyone holding him, and your mom took plenty of you, one including Steve and Robin on either side of you like three proud parents.

Asher James Henderson was perfect. You had decided to give him your own last name, since you were doing it alone and you were the only parent on the birth certificate.

You were terrified of being a single mother - even with the amazing support you had, it was still horrifying to think about. But honestly? You rocked it.

Asher was a happy baby, hardly ever fussed and slept like an angel. He loved spending time with you, would light up in the brightest smile every time he saw your face. He was also close with Steve and Robin, who came by every day. Uncle Dusty was another favorite, and your mom stepped into the grandma role happily and easily. Things were not the nightmare you feared they would be.

He got a bit crazier once he entered the toddler years. Reminding you of Eddie and what he must have been like as a child - which happened every single day - he was full of endless energy, completely fearless and always looking for adventure. You spent most of your time chasing after him and stopping him from climbing the furniture. But he was also the sweetest kid in the world, full of love for his mom and loved ones.

2 ½ years after Eddie’s departure, things had become easier and easier. You were comfortable with your little life, your little unconventional family. You were happy. Sure, sometimes it felt lonely, but you didn’t feel the need to date when you felt your attention should be all on Asher. And the idea of bringing a new man into his life scared you. So you didn’t.

You liked your job at the diner. You’d been there since the summer after graduation, and while it could be hard work and long hours, you loved your coworkers like family and it took care of you and Ash.

You were wiping down an empty table when the bell above the door chimed, signaling someone had entered the restaurant. You looked up to see Steve rushing in, breathless, still in his Family Video uniform. He held a piece of paper in his hand as he looked around, presumably for you.

When he spotted you he came walking over with purpose, which made you furrow your brows in confusion over what could possibly be so important.

Steve reached you and slammed the paper on the table in front of you. “You’re not gonna believe this shit.”

You looked down at the paper - and felt your blood run cold.

“…Corroded Coffin is coming to Hawkins?” you asked, your voice suddenly weak.

“A homecoming show,” Steve scoffed. “This weekend. I thought they were too good for us now, but I guess they can spare one little visit for us hicks.”

Steve looked pissed. Eddie’s calls had stopped for him, too, not long after he left. You weren’t surprised - if he had abandoned you, the woman he claimed to be in love with for years, then nothing surprised you about him anymore. But Steve had been deeply hurt.

Your ears were ringing. You thought you might pass out. You couldn’t believe what you were looking at - they were really coming here. Back home to Hawkins. Eddie and Asher would be in the same place and not even know the other existed.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said, suddenly realizing you didn’t look too good. He rubbed your back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that. I just…I just saw it and I freaked and I had to tell you.”

You shook your head. “No, Steve, it’s…it’s alright. I’m glad you told me. I guess it doesn’t really matter, though. It’s not like I’ll be going.”

Steve looked at you, his face etched with concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to see him?”

You bit your bottom lip nervously. “I don’t think so, Steve. I don’t think I can.”

Steve nodded in understanding. “Okay. Well I’m not gonna push you. But if you wanna go, try to talk to him…we can do that. It could be good.”

You considered his words. Should you see Eddie? Let him explain himself? …Maybe tell him about his son? The thought made you feel like you could be sick.

“You look pale,” Steve said, looking worried. “You should sit down.”

You waved him off. “I’m fine.” Steve didn’t look like he believed you, but he didn’t push the subject. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? I don’t know what to do right now. I don’t know what to think.”

Steve wrapped you up tight in his strong arms. “Hey, it’s your decision, sweetheart. You let me know what you want and we’ll make it happen. I’ll be right by your side either way.”

You nodded, grateful for Steve’s unwavering support as tears began to fall. Great, now you were crying and you still had 4 hours left of your shift.

Steve held you for a little longer, fingers soothingly brushing through your hair before he pulled back. “I gotta get going. I just totally ditched Robin to run over here the second that guy dropped these flyers off.” He ran a hand through his immaculate hair. “We’ll talk later, okay? It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

You wanted to believe your friend’s words as you watched him go, but it was hard. You had finally found your footing on your own, and now Eddie was coming back to Hawkins and throwing everything off. Going to this show or not would be a life changing decision. Either you can keep living life as you are, ignore the show and Corroded Coffin leaves Hawkins again without giving you a second thought…or you go, talk to Eddie, and flip both of your lives upside down.

You felt thoroughly fucked.

[tessasturns]

DIAL DRUNK

pairing... bsf!matt x fem!reader

summary... when you drunk call matt, he helps you get home safe.

warnings... swearing, fluff, drunk reader, tension, use of y/n, jealous bsf matt, throwing up (brief), slight cat calling, bsfs cuddling

divider credits… @issysh3ll

blessings and riches, tessa

(masterlist) (taglist)

“nah, i wont be drinking tonight.” you said to your friend who had offered you a drink.

that was you two hours ago, yet somehow you ended up completely wasted at some party.

you usually go everywhere with matt, the two of you have been attached at the hip since grade school.

however he’s not big on parties. otherwise, he would’ve been here with you, monitoring how much alcohol was in your system.

but he wasn’t, so you went out with your girls. the group was completely wasted, including you.

so what do you do? call matt, obviously. he picks up after a few rings.

“heyyy matt” you babble.

“hey, y’havin’ fun at your girls night?” he asks, knowing you’re probably drunk.

“mhm yeah… you should totallyyy be here matty, i miss you” you say. you were sitting on some random couch, your best friend next to you.

“kid, are you drunk?” he questions, knowing the outcome.

“noooo…” you say, not fooling anyone.

“alright, where are you? i’ll come pick you up” he tells you.

“uhhh somewhere downtown… you don’t need to pick me up! this really hot guy said he could take me home!” you say, too drunk to know his real intentions.

“absolutely not. drop your location, i’m coming.” he commands.

“ughhh you’re no fun!” you giggle. “fineee see you soon” you hang up the call and somehow manage to give matt your location.

matt walks into the party and sees you laying on the couch with your friend and some guy.

“y/n. we’re leaving.” he tells you, his voice raised to be coherent over the blasting music.

“oh, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend sugar” the guy says, standing up.

“no, he’s not my boyfriend” you babble, trying to repeat the guy’s motion of standing up but almost falling.

matt catches you and grabs your hand. “we’re goin’ back to mine, i’ll give you some extra clothes.”

“but i wanna stay here! i need some more drinks matttt” you whine.

“c’mon, let’s go back to mine pretty girl” the guy states, reaching out for your hand.

matt immediately slaps his hand away. some random guy flirting with his best friend? he hardly knew anything about her! he couldn’t let that slide.

“y’stay the fuck away from her, ‘ight? let’s go.” he takes you out of the party and into his car.

he opens the passenger door for you as you sit down. he leans over you to buckle your seatbelt, and man, do you love him.

you just stare at him as he does this, in complete awe.

“y’got a staring problem?” he chuckles as he ruffles his hand through your hair and closes the car door.

he walks over to the drivers side, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway.

“how much have you had to drink?” he asks you. “uhhh like…” you didn’t actually know how much you had. “maybeee like six drinks?”

“six? and you’re this wasted? fuckin’ lightweight” he jokes. “shut up” you mumble, quietly laughing.

his hand lays on the center console, and you reach out and grab it. you trace your finger around his hand as if he were some antique painting.

he notices the small gesture, but just smiles and looks over at the road.

“matt” you say, breaking the silence.

“hm?”

“has anyone told you that you’re reallyyy good looking?” you giggle.

“ah thank you” he knew you were drunk and didn’t question the comment.

“no like you’re sooo pretty” you say. “do you have a girlfriend?”

his eyebrows raise at the bold question.

“you’re drunk, so im not answering that” you both chuckle at his response.

the rest of the car ride is drunk conversations and your random questions. once you get to matt’s place, he quietly walks you in, careful not to wake his brothers.

after a painful walk in the door and to matt’s room, he handed you clothes to change into.

“thanks” you say, taking them gratefully. an awkward tension rises in the room, the both of you unsure what to say. “can you like… uh leave so i can change please?”

“oh- oh right sorry” matt apologizes, leaving the room. you change into his clothes, stumbling into his bathroom.

you feel it- the alcohol, buzzing through your body at an uncomfortable pace. you feel it rush to your head, saliva filling your mouth.

you kneel in front of the toilet, matt rushing in and holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail while you puked.

he helped wipe your face after, lending you an extra toothbrush. he took you back to his room, leaving to get a glass of water and some makeup wipes.

he watches you as you’re sprawled out on the bed, giggling at something you said to yourself.

he smiles at you, his clothes against your figure making him unusually attracted to you. sure, he might’ve liked you more than a friend, but he loved seeing you in his clothes.

“drink some of this” he tells you, as you sit up against his headboard. you take a small sip, placing the glass on his nightstand.

“thank you matt, really. i love you” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying against his chest.

you slump into his grasp, being tired from the party prior to this. he grabs a makeup wipe, carefully swiping your makeup off.

he cautiously lifts your face, making sure you didn’t sleep in your makeup. he knew you were probably asleep, so he laid your head down on the pillow as he turned for the door.

“matt” you call out to the mere silhouette of the boy ahead of you.

“what’s up?” he turns to you.

“can you sleep here with me? pleaseee?” you beg as he hesitates.

“i-i don’t know-” “please matt?” you say again. your friendship with matt was a little flirty, and cuddling wasn’t a first with the two of you.

“fine, but you better not throw up on me” he reluctantly agreed, climbing into bed. “promise i won’t” you smile, placing your head onto his chest.

his hand thoughtfully rubs your back, comforting you. although the two of you were ‘just friends’ he knew he shouldn’t feel this way about a friend. he knew he loved you, he just didn’t know how to tell you.

tessa’s notes… sorry this took like forever i’ve been sick😞 wanted to take a break from smut lowkey, feel free send me some reqs !!

taglist… @emely9274 @baileysturnz @sllutty-sturniolo @chrisspussygang

comment to be added or removed.

[copperbadge]

Thank you so much for your post on ADHD and managing communication. It was really interesting see your thought process and an example of how you set up systems that work for you. I was wondering if you'd mind sharing a little about how you handle task management (the “make sure you do the tasks promptly” part). This is something I (also only diagnosed with ADHD as an adult) feel like I really struggle with, especially at work. Thanks!

I wish I had as...systematic an explanation for that as I do for other aspects of my work and life management, to be honest. For me the most important part is remembering that I even need to do the thing in the first place, so I always focus on systems that will help with that. While I do have trouble starting projects sometimes, I rarely have trouble finishing them, so that aspect is not the most significant part of the struggle for me and not something I've spent as much time on. Still, I do have some advice!

For me the problem, when it happens, is almost always with getting started. I have a few strategies for that. The very first is to remind myself that it's never going to take as long or be as hard as I think it is. That kind of reminder has to feel true and that truth really only comes with time -- you have to be taught over and over, through experience, that "the task isn't that awful". For this the best I can recommend is, every time you finish something, take a moment to stop and reflect how hard it was to get started, and how once you got started it was actually much easier than you thought it would be. If you can identify "being scared of starting" as being the hardest part, eventually you can come to believe that the fear is normal and can be ignored because it's also your brain lying to you.

Another thing I do very often is break tasks I don't want to do (or am struggling to start) into extremely granular portions. If I have to make a powerpoint presentation, and I'm struggling to know where to begin, I'll take it really small steps at a time. Like, my to-do list for the presentation might read:

Open Powerpoint

Fill out the title slide

Gather all research into a folder (do not open any of it)

Start reviewing your research one file at a time

Start sorting your research into appropriate groups based on subject matter or where in the presentation they'll go

Look at the way your research is grouped, just look for a while

Which part of the research would you tell someone to start with if they're new to the subject matter?

That's slide one.

Usually at that point I'm in the "flow" enough that I can stop looking at those granular steps, but it's also fucking astonishing how often just opening the program I need to do the thing in can drop me into the project so deep I'll surface hours later having nearly completed it.

So my first step for any task, once I know it's time to work on it, is just to open the program needed and gather all my resources in one place and give myself permission to ONLY do that. Those two things, which are easy in themselves (they usually don't need much thought) trigger that "this is what I'm doing now" state and even if I don't finish the project, I will at least make headway. This works in non-digital, non-work ways too -- if you're going to paint a wall, gather all your supplies first in one place and make sure you have everything you need. In the process of doing that you start to become more at ease with the idea of actually doing it, and even if you don't do it right that minute, now you're actually feeling prepared for when you do.

And honestly even knowing all that I still struggle sometimes. That's just the nature of the beast. Adderall helps a lot, and age has helped because I know what I'm capable of and it's often more than I believe at the start. But it's just always going to take more energy for me than for some people. Making sure I'm fed, rested, clean, and medicated helps a great deal, so I recommend looking after yourself when you DON'T have a project looming, but I also recommend giving yourself some grace when you do -- these things are just the challenges we face.

[that-student-that-has-homework]

the temptation to write the fic that's been floating in my mind for a while...I think as early as before the war.

"You're overwhelmed."

and it's either Al-Haitham or Jing Yuan there to gently guide you through the whole mess.

Jing Yuan would probably take a quick scan of everything, predict your to do list based off of it, then determine the best course of action for your health. In like the span of 1 or 2 minutes at most.

Jing Yuan's the guy that would sit on the floor with you, take your hands in his, and when that causes the dam to finally burst (which is a problem because you're too busy to cry right now) would in a soothing tone, walk you through the order of what needs to happen. He'll help you figure out your priorities all while rubbing soothing circles into your skin, and will take on the parts of your load that he can.

You need food? He'll take care of it. Things are a mess? He'll get things picked up enough that its not stressful anymore. You don't have any more clean clothes? He's got that covered too.

When it comes to delegation the man knows what's up. He's got a solid war plan, and with Yanqing's assistance he's managed to complete at least half of the tasks that he can take off your hands, and the rest are to be completed likely within the next hour or few hours.

Expect a warm meal and soothing tea after you get showered, because that was the first thing he had you do. See you'd been busy enough to neglect your hygiene enough to stress you out too. So when you're feeling notably refreshed after your shower, and your meal, and seeing as the domestic tasks have been taken care of while you took care of your hygiene, your stress levels, are much lower.

He absolutely will let you bend his ear over all that's stressing you out, especially if you're working on something with a deadline and you're stuck. Will be someone you can bounce ideas off of.

When things finally calm down enough that you have the time to cry, he will hold you as you sob it all out. As awful as the situation is, he's relieved that you're getting it out of your system via tears. Of course if you start apologizing for needing help, he'll hug you tighter and set you straight. He is honored to be someone that you can be vulnerable with and is genuinely delighted to be able to support you...he is your husband.

____________________

Al-Haitham, similarly, takes you and your surroundings in:

the research papers strewn around you

the multitude of half-drunk cups: tea, water, juice, herbal tea

the crumbs of food that likely wasn't enough to sustain you

the piles of papers and books with all sorts of random objects in them to mark the pages for your research

the sink

your laundry basket

your dull hair, and disheveled pyjamas/housewear

your exhausted expression

It doesn't take him more than 2 minutes as well to figure out the ideal course of action. He also decides that you starting with a shower would be for the best.

He has to debate you to get you up, choosing not to touch you in your overwhelmed state. Because you don't have time to shower, you have a deadline. You don't have time for all these things. However using logic and reason, he somehow managed to get your to comply despite your very compromised state.

Al-Haitham as well, despite not liking to take on too much work, will, for your sake, delegate all tasks that don't require your specific attention to himself and get through them efficiently. He's systematic about it: first he ensures you have food to eat, after which he ensures that your living space is relaxing and comfortable by cleaning and organizing things according to your own preferences (yes he remembers). Your laundry is also taken care of alongside his. The cups, the dishes in the sink and those distributed throughout the house as well will be collected and washed.

Depending on how long your shower is he'll have everything done or at the very least the food and initial sweep of the area. He makes sure to have food with you, so you feel less alone. He will do those dishes too.

You're not having any coffee. Any tea he gives you is herbal. Bibi* used to say chamomile was good for sleep, maybe it'll help you relax. (Bibi is what Iraqis call their grandmothers, and given he's named after an Iraqi physicist).

With Al-Haitham he can also assist with your research and your paper, so he does help with providing sources and information for your paper. In fact you can rant to him and like the scribe he is, he'll take notes, and provide advice.

Will hug you if you ask. Will be your body double to help you get through things. He might even sacrifice some sleep to be by your side for a little longer if you're working late, but not too long, he'll eventually turn in, and encourage you to turn in too.

Tumblr MasterList Here | Ao3 here

Please feel free to leave me a comment or feedback. I may actually turn this into a fic if I get the time!

[hxney-lemcn]

Should I? — Bryon (AFK Journey) x gn! reader

summery: Bryon saves you after you get into a bit of trouble, and you find yourself unable to hold back your feelings.

tw: none

a/n: this isn't the best but I had to get it out of my system. This is for all my Bryon lovers.

wc: 1.6k

Master List

You watched on in awe as a dark colored falcon swooped down and attacked the enemy in front of you. You knew the forest was getting more dangerous, but you refused to let that hinder your research. At least that’s what you wanted to believe as you had been researching the animals in the dark forest for years, yet you were quickly proven wrong. 

You had tried to walk around the hypo-fiend who had managed to get into the forest, yet it had caught on to your presence quickly and went to attack you, which led to your current situation. Your heart jumped for more than one reason as Bryon stepped up and stood in front of you, sending an array of sharpened leaves towards the enemy. 

He had managed to quickly down the enemy, sustaining some small scratches. Elona flew over to us, landing on his shoulder. It was hard to understand how Bryon felt (that is if he didn’t outright state it), his blindfold blocked the view to his eyes, and his face would tend to remain stoic. That was the only reason you’d ever feel anxious in his presence, as otherwise he was a sense of comfort for you. 

You had met Bryon the first day you arrived in the Dark Forest. You had been incredibly anxious as it was your first big step on your own, thankfully, the wilder’s had been extremely kind. You first met Lyca, debriefing her on your situation and she quickly brought you to Bryon. She explained how as a Windwhisperer, he could help you find the perfect spot for the animals you wanted to observe. At first you were intimidated, he was stoic and looked no-nonsense. Not to mention he was the most beautiful man you had laid eyes on. 

Quickly, you learned that he wasn’t as scary as he looked. Both him, and his falcon, you learned to be called Elona, were quite sweet. When he brought you to a river clearing where all kinds of animals stopped by for a drink, he had offered you an abandoned cottage just a few meters away. You were flabbergasted to say the least, as you hadn’t expected such an offer. You had fumbled, offering money or some form of way to pay for the place, but Bryon had merely shook his head. He simply stated, “No one is currently using it, no reason not to let you stay there for the time being.”

That had been three years ago, and you found yourself running into Bryon more often than not. He had checked in on you after a few weeks of your move, stating that “You are my responsibility.” You weren’t sure what he meant by that, as other lightbearer refugees hadn’t spoken of having wilder companions. Of course the wilder’s would help them if needed, but otherwise the two factions would just let the other be. Of course you weren’t opposed to making friends, but you weren’t sure how to react to such a statement. 

Over time, you realized that Bryon seemed a bit lonely, and you had started to go out of your way to give him things. Whether it would be making a pie or giving him a sketch of an animal you thought he’d like (you only started doing this when he revealed he could actually see things). You both had quickly become friends, as when Bryon had free time, he would join you in your watch party and point out facts of the animals that you might’ve missed. 

You found yourself quickly falling for the reclusive man. You caught yourself thinking things you’d never thought of before, wanting things you hadn’t cared about before. It felt embarrassing, wanting such things with someone who showed no interest. He had been kind to you, he had cared for you, he didn’t judge you, and when prompted, he gave good advice. It felt wrong to care for him in such a way. He was a pillar of perception, someone who would listen to emotions and the facts to make correct judgements. Yet you couldn’t help yourself. The wish to tuck his hair behind his ears, the wish to hold his hand and hold him. It all felt wrong.

So the moment he stepped in to save you, you felt a mix of emotions. He had warned you of the dangers a few days ago, but you had foolishly ignored them. You felt ashamed, embarrassed, but also happy and lovesick. Bryon had gone out of his way to save you, even if you were being dumb. Does that mean he listens for you? Does he check in on you even if he’s not around? You felt yourself swooning at the thought.

“Haven’t I warned you to be careful?” Bryon asked, turning around to face you. Even though he had only lightly scolded you, you felt like you had done the worst possible crime.

“Yes,” You replied, looking down to avoid facing him. Once again you felt intimidated as his lips curved down into a slight frown.

“You could’ve been seriously hurt,” He continued to lightly chastise you. “You’re lucky I was coming to visit you today.”

You pouted, wanting to stand up for yourself slightly, “I thought I could sneak around it.”

“You’re louder than you think,” Bryon muttered.

“It’s not my fault you have such good hearing,” You replied back, crossing your arms. “Besides, I still need to do research, I’m close to a breakthrough!”

“Then I’ll be your guard,” Bryon concluded. “Lead the way.”

It wasn’t fair how easily he managed to fluster you. You weren’t sure if he did it on purpose or if he even realized the effect he had on you, but you hated it. You stumbled forward as his words kept repeating in your head. He’ll be your guard…that felt like such an intimate position. You weren’t a noble, you weren’t someone important, but Bryon had deemed you important enough to protect. Dura above you just wanted to kiss him to get these feelings out. 

“Are you alright?” Bryon asked as you both had walked a little. “Your breathing is rapid.”

How you wished the ground could just swallow you whole. One thing you found out rather quickly is that Bryon caught on to things quickly, but he knew when to back down thankfully.

“I’m fine,” You replied, feeling your face warm. Imagine him finding out your feelings now of all times…

“...” Bryon paused, contemplating his next words carefully. “Do not be afraid to come to me with anything. I’ll be by your side no matter what.”

He just won’t stop. The more honeyed words he spoke, the more you felt yourself wanting to confess. You had kept these feelings to yourself for so long, you were close to bursting. It didn’t help that the way he spoke towards you gave you an inkling of hope that he may reciprocate. You hadn’t ever heard him utter such things to Lyca or Solise. Of course he was friendly with them, but he was a bit more quiet with them.

“I know,” You replied softly, glancing at him as you neared the river bed. Dura, how did he manage to look at you so softly with cloth covering his eyes? You paused as the blue river came into view. The gentle tinkling of water was heard along with the cries of birds. A rabbit froze, before continuing to eat the leafy greens in front of it. A sudden longing filled you. The need to get these stupid feelings off your chest. To free your heart from the cage you entrapped it in. As always, Bryon seemed to read you perfectly, keeping his attention on you as you fully faced him.

“Bryon,” You called out, causing him to tilt his head cutely. “I hold romantic feelings towards you.” Not exactly the most romantic confession, but you didn’t want to say love so soon, as you needed more time to process your feelings. You had managed to catch Bryon off guard, as he wasn’t expecting a confession from you. He knew that people found him attractive, but they always ended up being put off by him somehow. No one really stuck around long enough. Yet you were different, you stuck by his side, you gave him your friendship, and now you were giving him your heart? 

Yes, he found himself liking you more than most. He liked the sound of your laughter (it sounded even better when he was the cause), he liked the warmth of your touch, he liked the smell of the berries you always carried on you. He liked your compassion, he liked your passion, he liked your stubbornness. Most of all, he liked you. Bryon isn’t completely sure when his feelings had shifted from friendly to more, perhaps it had always been more and he was just now realizing, but the fact remained the same. He felt the same way, and he was more than relieved to hear you felt for him in such a way. 

You, on the other hand, had become a nervous wreck the longer the white haired man stayed silent. His face gave away nothing as he faced you, Elona made it all the more intimidating. Perhaps you shouldn’t have said anything. He probably couldn’t even have a relationship due to his role as Windwhisperer. He was probably thinking of a nice way of rejecting yo-

“I feel the same way,” Bryon said softly. Oh what you would give to see the look in his eyes. 

“You know,” You started, shifting back and forth on your feet. “I could use a break from research, maybe we could go on a date instead.” You couldn’t see it, but Bryon felt like he was on fire. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that you liked him, and now you two were going on a date? He wasn’t prepared at all, but he couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste. 

“Okay,” He agreed, a small smile taking over his features. “Lead the way, I’ll be right by your side.”

[anna-scribbles]

hi I saw your response to the ask where you talked about driving. I hope this isn’t presumptuous, but have you got any advice for someone who has legally been able to drive for over 5 years now, but still really struggles with it and barely drives at all?

I just find it so stressful, and I’m scared things will go wrong or other drivers will be awful. How did you manage to become more confident with it?

(love your art style btw, the way you draw hair is just so pretty!)

hi!! I know this is a bit late, but I was going through my inbox and I was just talking with a friend about this earlier today so I'd love to talk about it.

looking back on it with the education I have now, I can see that my issue with driving was a few things, but the biggest problem was that my extreme anxiety about it sent my nervous system into a state of hyperarousal, which impaired my decision-making ability. which made me worse at driving. which worsened my anxiety about it.

so, your nervous system is your body's method of responding to danger. when there are no threats to your safety, you're body's chilling. this is when you're able to think most clearly, be curious and creative, engage in relationships, and feel grounded. we call this your "window of tolerance."

when your body detects a big threat, it either sends you into a hightened mobilized state called hyperarousal, or an overwhelmed immobilized state called hypoarousal. hyperarousal is more like "fight or flight," and hypoarousal is more like "freeze." these states come into play more often for people who have experienced trauma, but anyone's body can tap into them when their safety is threatened.

for me, driving was extremely scary--I was convinced that I was going to die or kill someone else, and that sent my body into fight-or-flight mode (hyperarousal). my heart started racing, my palms got sweaty, my thoughts were scattered. I became impulsive and terrified. bad combo for driving.

I didn't know any of this back then. but I remember distinctly, there was a day where I felt a shift. I became able to physically calm down my body and regulate. I was able to get into my window of tolerance while driving. that's what changed for me. If I'd known back then what I know now, then I would've tried much earlier to practice physically regulating exercises (like deep breaths, rocking, repetitive motions, humming, soothing fidgets, drinking water, etc) before getting behind the wheel.

all this to say, there are ways that you can help yourself get back into and stay in your window of tolerance. if you feel yourself going into hyperarousal, it helps to take a break and do something that physically calms you down. if you feel yourself going into hypoarousal, it helps to move around and do something that physically helps you feel present and grounded in your body, like engaging with your senses.

breaks are okay. be patient with yourself. driving is scary. but growth is possible--I used to break down crying every time I got behind the wheel, and today a friend remarked to me that I'm a really good driver. I told her I used to hate it so much, but I don't mind it now. things can change. you got this!

[wizzdot]

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Chapter 32

Description: after a little bit of miscommunication, you finally get your boys back. Whoop! Laika’s emotions are all over the place…..

*Kyle’s POV*

As soon as we board the helicopter, two nurses take over. She’s whisked away from Simon and laid on the floor. Fear flashes through her eyes. God she looks terrified. One of the nurses produce a large syringe, and before any of us have chance to stop them, they’ve sedated her. The last noise she makes is a scared whimper, before she just goes completely limp.

Simon tenses beside me, and I can tell Johnny is struggling not to intervene. I’m the level headed one, and even I can feel the Alpha inside of me trying to force itself to the surface. I turn away from the scene in front of me. It is too much to watch. Not after what she’d been through.

Johnny tries to pull Simon away but he is met with a malicious sounding snarl, so he steps back and joins me on the seats. I close my eyes and try to relax. Calm myself down. I allow the thrum of the helicopter blades to seep into my brain, blocking everything else. I could smell her scent slowly returning having removed the patches. Silly girl shouldn’t have put them on in the first place …

My thoughts are interrupted by Johnny.

“Why’d you think she ran..?”

“I don’t know. We’ll need to talk to her when she comes round from this…”

“D’ya think she still wants to be with us..?”

“I don’t know. You heard Laswell…”

“Aye, but what the fuck happened to her. Look at the state the wee lassies in. How’d she get so banged up if she was just planning to leave..?”

“Johnny.. look.. none of us have a crystal ball. We’ll need to talk to her…” I sigh, trying not to think of the possibility that she actually wanted to run away from us.

*Laika’s POV*

I feel light, and warm. I can smell Simon’s thick scent. It’s right next to my face. I’m lying on a soft bed..

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes aren’t really to open just yet. I feel drowsy and heavy. I manage to roll my head towards the scent and am met with soft fabric. My Omega purrs.

“-woken up yet..” I pick up from the tail end of a conversation. My brain still not fully computing everything happening around me.

I’m snapped back into reality when I hear that gruff voice.

“Silly silly girl.”

If my brain would have allowed it, a broken whine would have slipped from my throat. The Pack Alpha thinks I’m stupid. He probably wishes I’d just ran away for good. That’s what I get for thinking anyone could possibly care about me in the same way I care about them.

I roll my head away from the comforting scent of whatever it was next to me that smelt of Simon. I don’t deserve the comfort from an Alpha who doesn’t want me. Useless, broken, worthless mutt.

*John’s POV*

I go straight to her bedside. She looks awful. Worse than awful. Broken.

The nurses have cleaned her up somewhat. But wipes don’t do the same job that a good soak in a warm bath would do. She’s coated in a layer of smudged dust and blood.

Her shoulder is wrapped in rolls and rolls of bandages and gauze. The doctor tells me that she had been shot. Concussed. Fragile.

She’s been moving slightly in her unconscious state. The doctor tells me that the sedation will be leaving her system. He tells me that it’s basically up to her when she decides to wake up. But he warns me that she may turn feral again. She may have temporary memory gaps from her concussion, and the added trauma of going feral. I notice her roll her head towards Simon’s coat.

Good girl. She remembers her Alpha’s scent. That’s a good sign.

The doctor rambles on about how they had to sedate her on the journey home because she was feral. And how she didn’t properly give in to the sedation until Simon placed his jacket next to her. She had been seeking comfort. Comfort from her Alphas. Clever girl.

The doctor tells me how she resisted the police, meaning her shoulder, already damaged, has ended up even more mangled than the original injury.

I tut, in disbelief of what she’s gone through, and grumble “silly silly girl” aloud, into the room. If she’d have just stayed with Simon, none of this would have happened.

Or, perhaps, if Simon and I hadn’t have had that dick measuring contest a couple of days ago, that resulted in her getting caught in the crossfire of Alpha testosterone, none of this would have ever happened.

As I tut those words out into her room, she whimpers. Her face scrunches up, as if she is pained. I rush to her side, gently grasping her small hand in mine. She rolls her head away from the coat sitting up by her pillow.

I can’t wait for her to wake up. I need to apologise and atone. She needs to realise she is here to stay. That she is our Omega.

*Laika’s POV*

My hand is suddenly enclosed in another. I can hear John murmuring to himself. I use all of my energy to open my eyes. I grimace with the effort. I try to pull my hand away. I don’t want him feeling as though he needs to comfort me. I’m just a stupid omega, after all. Ruining everything as per usual.

He lets go when he realises I’m trying to pull away.

“Hey, you’re awake.. you’re ok.. the boys, they found you.. you’ve had surgery on your shoulder.. you’ll recover.. just need to take it real easy for a few weeks…” he speaks. My eyes are fixed on his fingers splaying on the bed, millimetres from my own, but never touching.

“I’m sorr-” my voice breaks due to the dryness of my throat. A few swallows of saliva and a good couple of coughs later, I’m ready to try and talk again. I keep my eyes down, not wanting to make eye contact with the Captain.

“I’m sorry. I - I’ll leave as soon as I’m able. I-I..”

“-who said anything about leav- wait..? Were you trying to run from us..?” He turns away slightly, clearly disappointed. Muttering something about Laswell being right about me.

My eyes shift with confusion. What the fuck does he mean by that?!

My scent obviously turns sour, he thinks his quick sniffle is subtle, but it’s not. He immediately back pedals.

“Is it me..? Is it.. do you want me to send Johnny? Kyle. Yeah, Kyle’s always been softer with you. I can call Kyle in until you feel a bit more awake, yeah?”

What the fuck does he mean? I’m perfectly coherent, yeah I’m a little drowsy, and nauseous, but my brain is fine..?!

I shake my head.

“No.. I don’t think - I - I’d rather be alone..” I stutter, knowing that I’m slowly sealing my fate.

It’s for their own good I tell myself. I deny myself the temporary comfort of having them near me. They don’t want me, anyway. It’s just my own stupid feelings prolonging everyone’s suffering.

Detach. Let go. Release them. Stupid mutt, letting yourself go and believe that you could belong.

John pauses, clearly not sure how to react.

His eyes widen, when I stubbornly sit up, albeit weakly, and hand the fabric that held Simon’s comforting scent. He’d left me his coat my omega feels fleeting joy, which is quickly stamped out. I’m in the drivers seat now. Not the omega. Me.

“You.. you should go. I’ll - I’ll be ok on my own” I whisper, looking away. He stares at me, shocked.

He turns away, as if he had lead on his feet. I finally let the tears fall, now his back is turned. The soft click of the door closing behind him marks the end of this. Whatever this was…

*Simon’s POV*

John had sent Johnny, Kyle and I back to our quarters. We’d sat outside her room for hours, still covered in her blood. Still stinking of the mission. Still reeking of distressed omega.

It’s his scent that hits me first. The joys of having the sensitive nose.

His head is hung low. He is emitting a foul smell. He’d never looked, or smelt, like this before.

A pit forms in my stomach and throat.

“…John?” I ask the unspoken question.

“- she, she - she rejected me. Us.”

No no no no… no she didn’t, she couldn’t!

Johnny and Kyle immediately start squabbling from behind me.

“Naw she Cannae have done. She’s no thinking straight. Still high on meds… that cannae be right. I’ll go talk to her..”

“-Johnny. She doesn’t want to see us.”

“I could go?” Kyle offers “I’ve always gotten through to her best..?”

“Kyle.. she made it clear.” John shuts him down.

He holds up my coat. The coat I had scented. Absolutely covered it in my scent, before tucking it under her head. She calmed down immediately. Why doesn’t she want it now?

The pack sit in absolute silence for the next few hours. Not a word is spoken. Nobody moves.

The silence is broken by a phone vibrating.

John huffs a dull laugh. “Laswell” he grunts, and declines the call.

A few seconds later it starts buzzing again.

“You should take that” I speak.

“Why would I want to chat to her right now? Eh? So she can tell us she was right? That the omega was running from us all along? Because of me? Because I let my Alpha feel challenged by a member of my own fuckin’ pack? No thank you, Lieutenant.”

I snatch his phone from the table, answering it sharply.

“Laswell, what do you want?” I bark down the line.

“Simon, it’s nice to talk to you, too” she says back sarcastically.

“I’m not in a joking mood, get on with it, or I’ll hang up”

“Are you ever in a joking mood? - anyway - It’s about your omega. We’ve combed through the building in Chicago. We have found something that may be of use to you.”

“S’too late. The Omega. Basically told John, and by extension: us, to fuck off, so whatever you have, it don’t matter.”

“I’m sorry to hear that you’re going through a rough patch. But it’s her bandana fabric thing. It was found in the rubble at the site of the blast on the 51st floor. We’ve sealed it and sent it first class. Should be with you by morning. I’d try to work things out with her. She’s worth the effort.”

And with that, she hangs up.

I slam John’s phone down on the table.

“Her hanky? How -” Johnny starts but I cut him off.

“She went to help. She went to help her Alphas, and we just left her to fend for herself. How the fuck didn’t you notice her.. she damn well got herself shot and blown up, and we left her in the rubble?” I rage.

“It wis you who dinnae even notice her sneak away in the first place, Simon. Don’t forget that…”

“Wait.. Simon. Remember you radioed to me, when I was holed up on the stair well waiting for Hassan? You said there was someone coming up?”

I nod, remembering. “Do you think..?”

“But how did she get to the site of the explosion. Hassan was about to shoot me execution style before that marine tackle-”

“Shit. SHIT”

“It wasn’t the Marine who hit Hassan.” Kyle says matter of factly.

“I couldn’t see. Because of all the dust and debris. And she had those scent patches on. Fuck. FUCK. I should have known..” he goes on.

“Kyle, this isn’t your fault” John tries to comfort.

“You’re tellin’ me.. that that wee lassie ran all the way doon from LT’s perch on the top floor of the building opposite, across the street, and all the way up to us, AND managed to save Cap just before he took a bullet between the eyes?” Johnny summarises.

“We need to see her” I conclude.

We all stand at once and march toward the medical wing.

*Laika’s POV*

I smell and hear them before I see them.

Oh no. Please not again.

I rapidly wipe away my tears, knowing that the puffiness and tear tracks won’t disappear so easily.

A knock sounds on the door. I stay quiet. Then I hear the nurse from outside telling them that I’d asked for no visitors.

“I’m sorry, Sir’s. She asked to be left alone for the next few days. Only staff are allowed beyond these doors” the nurse politely explains.

A soft scent flows into the room from under the door. I immediately recognise it as Kyle’s scent, when he concentrates it to calm me down. Sneaky bastard.

“We are her Pack.. you need to let us in.” I overhear Simon grunt, annoyed.

“Oh, Uhm.. sorry Sir’s. I hadn’t been informed that she was mated, or part of a pack. If you’d wait here while I go and check her documentation..” she excuses herself, I hear hurried retreating footsteps from outside my door.

Kyle’s calming scent continues to seep its way into my brain. My omega is crying out to be allowed some comfort.

“We know you know we’re here..” Johnny whisper-yells from behind the door.

I feel my cheeks heat. I gulp.

“Could you let us in, Bonnie.. please..? Just want to talk..” he pleads with me.

My eyes flash from left to right, weighing up my options. I can’t say no to them. My stupid omega just can’t say fucking NO to them.

I find myself nodding. Then mentally slapping myself around the face, realising they can’t see through doors.

“Ok” I consent, barely loudly enough for them to hear.

Johnny is first in. He rushes over and grabs my hands, hurriedly but gently patting me down, searching for all the bruises and blemishes left on my skin.

“Oh Bonnie, there ye are.. awkt, we’ll get you cleaned up in no time, eh? Clever wee thing you are..” he slides his thumb over my chin, and kisses the crown of my head, so tenderly, that it breaks me.

I preen at the praise, trying not to purr.

“What happened back there, huh? You threw pack Alpha out..? Scared us, lass. Really scared us..”

Scared them? Why..?

“Didn’t want me.. not pack..” my chin wobbles, trying not to sob. “I - I didn’t mean it… such a stupid burden useless mutt.” I sniffle, letting my anxieties pour out.

Johnny leans in and presses another kiss to my head, before softly lifting my hands and kissing all of my knuckles.

“That’s just not true. Not true at all. Not a single word of it..” he whispers.

Kyle steps in, then, and I bathe in his calming scent, still enveloping me, holding me together at the seems.

“You’re too clever for your own good, you know that, right, little bug?” He smiles gently at me, stroking my dirty hair away from my face.

“So beautiful, too” he says, making my cheeks heat.

“Think we wouldn’t find out that you saved pack Alpha’s life, huh? And those damn scent patches… they stopped us from finding you. I should have known, baby. I’m sorry. Forgive me..”

Kyle’s thumb gently swipes where the scent patches had been, causing a little whimper to rise from my throat, the sensitive skin feeling overwhelmed at the Alpha’s attention.

“I - I don’t blame you…” I breathe, looking at Kyle.

“It’s my fault-” John steps forward, hanging his head in shame but before he can quite finish his sentence I cut him off “I don’t blame any of you.. just myself..”

“No. No no - it’s not anything to do with you, love. Nothing is your fault. Nothing. You hear me?” John argues.

Simon steps forward then, looming over the others like a tall shadow.

“You’ve caused quite a stir here, Omega.” He states. I shrink back further into my bed, ashamed for a split moment.

“Don’t do that. Hide away as if you’re scared of us. We would never hurt you. Could never be angry at you. Look at you. You’ve saved us.”

My eyes blink away the heavy, fat tears forming.

Saved them? Maybe I’m not the only one who’s had a knock to the head..

“You’re part of this now. Part of us. If you’ll take us…?” John hesitates, extending the olive branch.

“I - I don’t want to be a burden..”

“Awkt enough of that, lassie..” Johnny cuts in, nuzzling his face against my un-injured shoulder, desperate for touch. His scent wraps around me like flames.

“You all want me to stay..?” I ask, confused

There is a chorus of agreement in the small room.

My tears fall loose, and Kyle is there to wipe them away.

“Is that a yes, bug?” He whispers into my hair.

I nod, sniffing away my tears and snot.

As I nod, I’m bombarded by the heady scent of the four Alphas. Pure relief and happiness wafts through the room. My omega is jumping up and down with joy.

—————— Timeskip (1 week) ————————

I’d finally been discharged. It felt weird getting to walk beyond the halls of the infirmary. Of course, the Alphas of task force 141 followed my every step. They’d visited every day, for hours at a time, and I was rarely left alone for the duration of my stay. They were trying their best to make up for what had happened last week. I felt as though I was in a happier place. Mentally and physically.

Johnny was blabbing about what he had planned for the next few weeks.

“So this week, we’re gonna be takin’ it easy, but the nurse said you’d be up for more activity by next week so we thought we could-”

“Wait.. what? How long have you got on leave, Johnny..?” I ask tentatively, not wanting to get my hopes up.

“Not just me, hen.. John made sure to put all of us on leave for at least the next four weeks. Ain’t that right, Alpha?” He explains, practically buzzing.

My eyes fly to John, almost giving me whiplash..

“Really?!”

He smiles down at me, “yes, love. Needed to make sure you were settled and happy. Need to make up for the past couple of weeks..”

I squeal, excited, grabbing Johnny’s bicep and squeezing, bouncing up and down.

“Oi, calm down. Nurse said to take it easy!” Ghost barks, gently removing me from Johnny and escorting me by my good shoulder, back to our quarters.

“I feel better, Simon..” I whine, glancing back at him.

“You’re on a huge dose of painkillers, you don’t know if you feel better or not. Now take it easy..”

I grumble under my breath. Stupid Alpha.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s strike one..” he warns.

“You’re not funny..” I roll my eyes, pouting like a spoilt child.

“What makes you think I’m joking?”

We reach the kitchen and he sits me down on the sofa. Johnny and Kyle sit either side of me. I immediately adjust myself so I’m sprawled across Kyle’s lap, with my feet up on Johnny’s lap.

Johnny puts the TV on and flicks to a random documentary about animals and starts massaging my toes.

“Anyway, next week, I thought we could try and plan something to do away from base. As a pack..” Johnny continues his earlier conversation.

My heart leaps at the suggestion of being a pack, but my brain reminds me that they’ve not made a move to claim me yet, and I’ve only been properly intimate with Kyle.. just the thought of intimacy sends heat through my body.

I nuzzle into Kyle’s neck, inhaling his soft scent. He kisses my hair and tightens his hold of me ever so slightly, pleased to have his omega back in his arms. I chase the warm feeling, shuffling closer and closer, practically straddling him, pushing my nose further into his scent glands. Then I feel him tense up, I whine, upset, pulling away and looking at him with sad eyes.

“I- I’m doing something wrong..?” I ask, pained.

“No. No not at all, love. But you’re still hurt. You need to be careful. Just don’t want to hurt you..”

“Aye lass, nurses said no strenuous activity” Johnny chips in, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily.

“Was just cuddling…” I whine

“You were about to start more than cuddling, Omega..and you know it” Simon adds, from behind me.

I whip around, angrily, and point an accusatory finger at Simon.

“You’re just a kill joy. You don’t like me being happy..” I accuse, perhaps a bit harshly, but I was upset that he kept ruining my happiness.

Simon looks a bit put out by my comment, and steps back slightly, probably shocked that I’d been so harsh.

John steps forward from his place at the kettle.

“Sweet girl, that’s no way to talk to pack, is it? Apologise to Simon. He just wants you to get better..”

I furrow my brow, standing wobbly from my place on Kyle’s lap. “I’m not pack, and I’m not sorry. He’s being mean..”

I turn and leave the kitchen, heading back to my own room. I’d not been in my nest for a few weeks.

*Kyle’s POV*

I know a pent up omega when I see one. She’s desperate for touch and attention. Absolutely desperate.

She blows a gasket when Simon interrupts our little cuddle session. It had been quickly escalating into something more, she’d been neglected for too long..

And then the poor thing hobbles away, in a mood, probably back to her nest. I want to go after her. Calm her down. Make her happy.

I wait for her door to slam shut before speaking to the rest of the pack.

“She needs her Alphas. Her pack… she’s pent up..”

“And hurt, Garrick. And mentally exhausted from the last few weeks. She needs time.”

“I don’t see the issue with letting her set the pace..” I argue.

“Aye, I’m with Kyle, let her decide.” Johnny agrees.

“Boys” John prowls over,

“Just give it a few days. Please. Just don’t cross that line. Not until I give you the go ahead. That’s an order. Simon’s right. She needs time. Time to heal. Mentally and physically. Poor omega’s been through the mill. Remember she hasn’t even properly presented yet. Or shown any signs of her first heat. We need to back off until she’s ready…”

I drop my argumentative gave as the pack Alpha tells us the ground rules. I’m slightly disappointed but I cannot argue back.

“Kyle, look at me” he sighs, gentler than before.

I glance up.

“Go to her - Johnny, you too - hang out, be near her, even cuddle. I’m not disallowing that. You just can’t escalate anything, she’s only been with Kyle so far, and remember how she reacted afterwards. She panicked. We need to make sure she’s ready for us. As a pack.. understood?”

“Yes, Alpha” I reply, and from the corner of my eye, I see Johnny nodding.

“Go make sure she’s ok then” John nods his head in the direction of her room and I jump to my feet and speed off down the hall with Johnny.

*Laika’s POV*

Three knocks on the door break me out from my thoughts.

I’ve been sitting in my best in the cupboard for a few minutes, reorganising my blankets and throws, and scented items, trying to make it comfortable again. My brain had been playing on a constant loop since storming out of the kitchen.

Not good enough for them. Knew this would happen. Simon doesn’t want me near his pack mates. Simon doesn’t like me. Kyle is just being nice. John thinks I’m stupid.

“Bug..? It’s us.. can we come in..?” I hear Kyle from through both doors.

I stand and open the cupboard, walking towards the bedroom door. I inhale, trying to figure out who the ‘us’ Kyle referred to was. Probably Johnny. I confirm my suspicions with his scent slowly making itself known.

I slowly open the door and peak up at them.

“You angry at me..?” I ask, sadly.

“Oh Bonnie, c’mon, let us in and we’ll make it all better” Johnny practically shoves through the door and picks me up off of my feet suddenly.

I yelp and grab hold of him, conscious of my wrapped up shoulder wound.

“Johnny!” I gasp, wrapping my arms and legs around him for stability.

“Soap!” Kyle warns, “you heard what John told us…”

“Awkt, just stop actin’ weird around her. We’re just push in’ her away. Ain’t that right, sweet lassie?”he replies to Kyle, cheekily nuzzling his nose into my scent glands.

I feel giggles bubbling from my throat and the burden on my inner voice suddenly silences itself.

“Missed you, Johnny” I laugh, cuddling him closer. He moves us both towards my nest, stopping before entering to make sure I was ok with him being in my nest. I nod my head, smiling like a Cheshire Cat.

Kyle watches on from the middle of the main bedroom. I see a hesitant smile reach his lips.

He turns away and for a second I think he’s leaving. I release a loud whine and am about to plead with him to stay but he quickly closes the door to my room and turns back to face me.

“Shush, love. Was just shutting the door so the two killjoys wouldn’t catch us in your nest” he laughs.

“Come cudddddlllleee” I whine, making grabby hands at him past Johnny’s back.

“I don’t know if we’ll all fit in your little nest.”

“Jus’ do as the little lassie says, Garrick. She needs her Alpha’s. Ain’t that right?”

I nod my head enthusiastically, delighted that I’m finally getting some much needed attention from them.

Kyle squeezes in behind me, cautious of my shoulder. He pecks me on my head, and tells me how sweet I am. I’m basking in all the attention and feel purrs slipping past my lips.

“John and Si will come around soon, don’t worry..”

“Don’t they want me anymore..” I ask shyly,

“No, lass. They think you’ll break. Told us to be gentle and let you rest. Think Si wants to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you at arms length for the rest of your life..”

“Simon’s being mean. He doesn’t like me..”

“That’s not true…” - “yeah it is”

Johnny and Kyle stay in my nest and we continue to cuddle and scent together for a while. I start to feel a little better after their constant promises that Simon and John aren’t mad at me and that they still want me. I feel a little more reassured.

“I - I have a question..?”

“What is it ‘mega..?”

“When I.. when I had my scent patches on… did you notice..? Because I mainly put them on because Simon has always said I stink… but you two and John never seemed too bothered by my scent. Or… lack of scent… I guess…”

“It’s not that we weren’t bothered by your scent, love..” Kyle starts. “-it’s damn near addicting once we get a whiff of it, Bonnie”

“You just had a very subtle scent. It slowly started to get thicker, ever so slightly, but I guess we didn’t notice as much with the scent patches because we weren’t with you.. you went off with Simon, remember… but.. when we found you on the street, surrounded by those cops and you’d gone feral… when the scent patches were taken off, your scent is stronger than ever… hit me like a fuckin’ train…”

“S’stronger..?” I ask, shyly..

“Yeah. Stunk of distressed Omega at first.. thought it wis’ just cos you went feral… thought it’d go back to like is wis before but it hasnae. Smell as sweet as a cherry pie, little lass.”

Johnny makes his point clear when he presses his nose into my scent glands and groans appreciatively. “Oi Johnny.. don’t be greedy!” Kyle laughs jealously.

I giggle but present my neck to Kyle to allow him some space to enjoy my new found scent.

“Love..” he growls lowly .. “you can’t just present your neck to an Alpha like that.. fuck”

He clearly struggles to restrain himself from jumping at me there and then.

“Aye lass, walking a wobbly tightrope doin’ that in front of us, ya little minx you…” Johnny grumbles from behind.

“You both like my scent..?” I look for reassurance.

“Can’t get enough of it” Johnny mumbles.

“Sweet as I dreamt of..” Kyle sighs.

I smile, bashfully, at both the Alphas, pulling them both down to lay with me in my nest.

Johnny ends up being the big spoon, tucking himself tightly behind me, and Kyle faces me, cuddling me face to face. I tuck my head into the crook of his neck and wind my legs with Johnny’s, purring happily.

“M’ happy to be home with my Alphas. Would never run away from them.. ever…” are my last mumbled words before falling asleep, feeling safe, happy and wanted.

[steddieasitgoes]

Their dining room table has been taken over by thousands of tiny little beads and elastic in different colors. 

Steve sits opposite their sixteen-year-old daughter, a thin elastic band clutched in one hand and an assortment of approved beads laid out in front of him. He picks up a small purple crystal-like bead and tries to feed the elastic through the minuscule hole. 

“Christ, why isn’t this hole bigger,” he groans, squinting as he tries for the third time to thread the bead onto the elastic. 

“Aw, but I thought you liked tight holes, sweetheart,” Eddie teases, sauntering into the room. 

Their daughter pretends to retch before turning up the Taylor Swift song playing from her phone, hoping to drown them out. It doesn’t matter that they have a state-of-the-art stereo system in the other room that sounds a thousand times better than the shit speakers in her phone. She likes the convenience. 

Steve, on the other hand, glares playfully at Eddie. “Seriously, not in front of our daughter.” 

“Oh, please, don’t pretend she doesn’t know things.” 

“I mean, yeah, but she doesn’t need to know things about us.” 

“I really don’t,” their daughter agrees. 

Eddie laughs before collapsing onto the seat beside Steve. Assessing the beads in front of him, Eddie collects a few and gets to work. 

“Hey,” Steve whines, swatting Eddie’s hand away when he tries to steal one of his beads. “These are mine. You didn’t even get her approval.” 

Eddie scoffs. “I don’t need her approval. She trusts me, right bug?” 

Their daughter rolls her eyes, but nods. Eddie hoots victoriously before going back to his own bracelet. Steve shares a look of amusement with their daughter. One that says it’s better to let Eddie think he won than try to give him a set of rules to play by. 

Many things have changed about Eddie over the years, but one thing that has remained the same is his disdain for other people’s rules — even if the rules are coming from his daughter. 

When Steve tries to take a peek at what Eddie is working on a moment later, he gets a swift elbow to the ribs. “No peaking!” 

Shaking his head, Steve gets back to his own bracelets. It’s a lot easier threading the beads when he grabs his glasses from the bedroom and he manages to finish two daughter-approved bracelets in the time it takes Eddie to finish whatever he’s been working on. 

“Are you ready to see the best bracelet ever?” he asks, standing up with all the dramatics he had when he was thirty years younger. 

Steve and their daughter nod, setting aside their own bracelets to look at Eddie’s creation. 

A rainbow of beads, all different shapes and sizes surround a group of block letter beads that reads: Fuck Ticketmaster. 

Steve laughs while their daughter smirks, shaking her head. 

“It’s not a Taylor lyric, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“Our bank account definitely agrees.” 

“So will the Swifties, you’ll see!” Eddie says, reaching for another random set of beads to start another bracelet.  

The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon making friendship bracelets. Well, Steve and their daughter do. Eddie continues making “Fuck Ticketmaster” and various other obscure and random bracelets. The highlights of which include a red beaded monstrosity with the word “scarf” on it and one that just says "Olive Garden."

Unfortunately for Steve and their daughter, Eddie’s unhinged bracelets are the biggest hit at the concert. He ends up trading all his bracelets before they even get into the stadium. 

He doesn’t let them live it down, proclaiming himself the King of Friendship bracelets. 

[akaakeis]

home. -- sakusa k.

synopsis : sakusa kiyoomi and yn have been dating for some time now, with kiyoomi dedicating time to his volleyball team and yn dedicating time to their education. in their final year of university, however, they need to travel for a semester to fulfill a credit requirement for their degree. finally, they come back home.

wc : 1661 .ᐟ

gn!reader x sakusa kiyoomi (2nd person)

notes//cw : i'm kinda following the american school system for this since i'm not familiar with any other school system!! (like the months that school runs, when semesters end, that type of thing),, this is msby sakusa so it's like... 2019,, reader is a university student,, reader is implied to be living with sakusa (but this isn't explicitly stated),, kinda sad in the beginning,, fluffy ending,, HEAVILY projecting onto yn with any parts describing how she feels oops,, NOT proofread again,, i was inspired to write this when i heard 'coming home' by beabadoobee!!

January 6th, 2019.

you sit on your bed and open your laptop with a sigh, reading through your class schedule for this upcoming semester. this is your final semester, ever, and it's finally starting to sink in as you read through your schedule. to fulfill a requirement for your degree, you'll have to travel this semester to take your classes. the classes were, unfortunately, unavailable at your own university. you knew you would have to at some point, but it's just awful that you'll have to be away for so long. a quiet thump can be heard as you close your laptop and put it to the side.

rustling can be heard outside of the bedroom as sakusa comes in with a package that was, presumably, just delivered to the front door.

"hey, what's wrong?" he asks immediately, eyes scanning over your face with a slight frown. he can tell from your expression that you're stressed about something.

"mm.. nothing, come sit down, omi. i gotta tell you something." you say, your voice soft and slightly sad. he obliges you, putting down the package on the dresser and sitting next to you on the bed. he looks at you attentively.

you take a deep breath and start to explain the situation. "...so, for this semester, i'll be traveling for my classes. i'll be staying a couple hours away."

sakusa's breath hitches for a moment before he lets out a quiet sigh. "that's okay, you'll do amazing. i'm sure of it, yn." he says, his voice resembling something of reassurance, though he seems a bit upset himself.

you offer him a slight smile, gingerly taking his hand into yours. "it'll be okay. i'll be back in may," you say softly, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

he nods slightly, giving you a slight smile back. he gives your hand a quick squeeze. "yeah. when do you leave?"

"in a week," you reply.

who knew that week would go by in the blink of an eye? it had felt like a mere hour.

January 13th, 2019.

the two of you sit in the car, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger seat. you quietly squeeze his free hand, keeping your eyes on the road. he was driving you to your new dorm.

it was a two hour long car ride, which both of you spent in silence. you were both enjoying each other's presence while you still could.

the car gradually comes to a stop in front of your new dorm. it's a huge building, and there are numerous people outside, hauling things inside. you assume they're all moving in for the semester as well.

"come on, i'll help you bring in your stuff," sakusa says softly, lightly nudging you.

it takes about an hour, but you and sakusa managed to bring in all of your things and set up all the essential things. you're both seated on your dorm's bed now, not wanting the moment end, for him to go back home. you lean against his shoulder, holding onto his hand.

"i'm really gonna miss you," you whisper.

"i'll miss you too," he says back softly, gently running his thumb over the back of your hand. "it'll be okay. we can call and text whenever."

before either of you realize it, it's already 10:00 at night, and sakusa needs to go home. he has practice tomorrow, after all. with that, the night draws to a close, and the bed feels empty. you're homesick already.

January 14th, 2019.

it's your first day back to school, and unfortunately you have a morning class... at 7:00 am. aside from the fact that you suffered while trying to get up early enough to prepare yourself for the day, the class went smoothly.

everything felt like routine throughout the day as you went from class to class, listening to the lectures and taking notes. this continued until you headed back to your dorm, kicking off your shoes and dropping onto your bed. you had to forcibly stop yourself from getting up to go look for kiyoomi, because you knew he wasn't there. oh, how awful it is to be homesick.

the days seemed to drawl on and blur together as you went to day after day of classes. you managed to text sakusa every once in a while, but he always seemed to be a little busy. since he seemed busy, you obviously didn't want to bother him, so you stopped frequently messaging him.

the homesick feeling never went away. you felt as if you would do anything just to be with him. you felt so far away in your dorm.

March 20, 2019.

it took a while, but you finally felt less homesick. today was sakusa's birthday, and you had something planned. you had coordinated a plan with the rest of sakusa's team to get them to have a celebratory dinner in the city, so that you could surprise him and wish him a happy birthday in person.

the day took an agonizingly long time to pass by, but you eventually made it through all of your classes for the day, heading straight home to prepare for the dinner.

you get dressed nicely for the birthday dinner, wearing semi-formal attire and nice shoes. it's a really short walk from your dorm, so you arrive there quickly. to your surprise, however, the entire volleyball team is already there, including kiyoomi. you immediately rush over to him, hugging him from behind.

he's startled by the sudden hug, but realizes it's you, putting his hand on top of yours. 

"happy birthday, omi. i'm so happy that i'm able to celebrate with you." you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear. the entire team, but particularly atsumu, watches smugly as they see sakusa's face soften over you.

dinner passes by in a blur, but then suddenly, one of the waitresses bring out a slice of cake, placing it in front of sakusa. there's a lit candle on top. everyone present at the table sings happy birthday to sakusa, cheering as he blows out the candle. it's clear that he's extremely happy about all the gestures that have been done for him, despite his more stoic demeanor. those who are familiar with him can tell he's happy.

"thank you, yn. i'm so happy to see you in person... i miss you," he says quietly, gently squeezing your hand.

"of course, omi... i wouldn't miss celebrating your birthday for the world. i miss you too," you say back, offering him a soft smile.

with long, drawn out goodbyes from everyone on the team, the night came to a close. the team drove back home, and you went back to your dorm, knocking out. it felt comforting to see kiyoomi again. it had been a while. in about two months, you would finally be able to say, "i'm home."

May 28, 2019.

today was the day. you could finally go back home. you'd be lying if you said you were more thrilled about the fact that you're finally getting your degree than the fact that you're finally able to go home and see kiyoomi. you packed up everything in your dorm as quickly as possible, heading for the train home. 

the ride home seemed to go by faster than usual, passing by in what felt like 20 minutes.

you walk home quickly, eager to see kiyoomi. once you get to the front door, you quietly unlock it. you open the door slowly to prevent it from squeaking, and you leave your luggage outside so that he doesn't hear the sound of it rolling around as you enter the house. as you close the front door, a quiet click is heard, which you silently curse at yourself for.

you can hear the sound of running water in the kitchen, along with the sound of a plastic bag being rustled around. you peek into the kitchen, trying to see what kiyoomi is doing. he's, apparently, cleaning the kitchen. he's taken the plastic bag out of the trash can and replaced it with a new one. the full trash bag sits on the floor, waiting to be taken out. by the kitchen sink, you can see kiyoomi peacefully washing the dishes. you let out a soft sigh, coming up behind him quietly, peeking out from his side to see what he's washing.

"i'm home," you say softly, causing kiyoomi to turn around, startled by the sudden voice behind him. his face immediately softens upon seeing you. he grabs the dish towel, quickly wiping his hands dry. 

he engulfs you in a hug, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you close. "welcome back," he says quietly, burying his face in your hair.

"let me help you," you say, lifting your head to look up at him, loosening the hug. you let go of him, grabbing the bag of trash that had been sitting on the floor. "i'll take this out, and i'll be back to help wash the dishes."

he smiles slightly, nodding as he watched you walk out with the bag of trash in hand. you step foot out of the house, tossing the bag into the trash bin and heading back inside. you head back to the kitchen, lightly nudging him to the side of the sink so that you can help him wash the dishes. 

the two of you clean up the kitchen in silence, just enjoying each other's presence yet again. once all of the night's chores are done, however, the two of you head to bed almost immediately. kiyoomi holds you close to him, keeping his face in your hair and muttering, "i missed you a lot. glad you're home."

you feel your heart sputter at his words, and you smile slightly, bringing up a hand to play with his hair. "me too. good thing i didn't get home late."

notes :

₊ ⊹ we're all gonna collectively ignore the photos i used because i don't have the energy to actually make it look good... thanks !!

₊ ⊹  yeah i have no idea how university works in case that wasn't made painfully clear at the beginning sorry </3

₊ ⊹ just pretend it makes sense i guess, cause i was NOT about to research how to make that part of the fic make sense 😋

₊ ⊹ not proofread as per usual (are we surprised atp)... please lmk if you find an error though !!

₊ ⊹ after not releasing anything for like a week cause of like everything in my life deciding to gang up on me... WE ARE SO BACK 🗣️‼️ (lie)

₊ ⊹ i randomly got this idea when i was listening to all the songs on bea's new album... honestly i have ideas that i got from a bunch of the songs so stay tuned!! i'll probably write some more oneshots based off her new songs

₊ ⊹ my motivation peaked and then fell within like an hour but i pulled through to get this done😭

₊ ⊹ any other works can be found on my masterlist! (it's pretty small at the moment since i just started though!!)

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

🏷️ : @iiwaijime + @bokukos <3

[stevieschrodinger]

Link to Part One Part Two Part Three

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

Steve feels like shit. He looks like shit. He’s pretty sure something might have straight up died in his mouth when he got that forty five minutes of sleep.

Everything looks good though. The fact that everyone else sprawled around the boardroom also looks like shit makes him feel a little better about himself. Well. Everyone but Nancy, obviously, who could probably walk out of a tornado and still look put together.

Steve only knows it’s morning because Carol just brought them all coffee. Carol does not come in out of hours. Steve learned that very, very early on. It was uncharacteristically nice of Carol to turn up with the little trolley from downstairs; it had a bunch of fruit and breakfast pastries on it, plus coffee.

She then proceeded to explain to Steve at great length how he looked and smelled like he’d been shit out by a bear, so, maybe she had motive. And that motive was being a bitch.

“Happy now, Steve?”

Steve’s got like, a whole bag of sand in each eye. Coarse, if they grade that kind of thing. Coarse sand. “Do you think we got everything?”

“I am confident that the team have done their utmost to pursue every avenue.”

“Nance, stop being a politician. That’s not a yes.”

She purses her lips at him in the way that she has, “can I have a word with you?” She scans the board room, “privately?”

Steve drags himself out of the chair, balancing one croissant on top of his coffee cup and grabbing a bear claw too, and then follows Nancy out and into a nearby office.

She doesn’t pull any punches, “I need to know how you know.”

Steve takes a big bite, then speaks with his mouthful, “can’t. NDA.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “and who, exactly, did you sign an NDA for?”

“The FBI.”

Nancy brings up her phone, showing Steve the screen. More precisely the headline on the screen, and Steve is thrilled that the picture they’ve used of Hagan is, objectively, fucking awful, “so Tommy Hagan was arrested last night, for Omega trafficking. When you walked into the office yesterday, oh so confident that everything relating to Hagan was going to tank…it was nearly ten full hours before this hit the news.”

Steve shrugs again, “N...D...A.”

They stare at each other for a long moment.

The door opens, Henderson’s baby face poking through. You would not in a million years think they guy was in his twenties, “Steve, morning! Sorry, I know it’s early…” Henderson seems to take in the state of Steve. Shirt rumpled, tie hanging loose, starting in on his second pastry, “but I kind of need to know why over a quarter of a million dollars was moved on Saturday, and where it went since it seemed to just...disappear?”

It takes, probably, less than a second for Nancy to leap to a conclusion like an Olympic fucking vaulter, and half a second longer for her to hit Steve with the file she’s holding.

“Er...not now, Dustin okay?” Steve manages to say, trying to shield his pastry and his coffee while Nancy gets it out of her system.

Dustin’s a smart kid, he watches Nancy slapping Steve with the papers...and just leaves.

She finally stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, and says very evenly, very quietly, “Steven Harrington, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t buy an Omega.”

“NDA?” Steve replies quietly, uncertain, and then flinching when Nancy raises the folder again, “okay okay! Yes, yes I did. But! Under the FBI’s kind of...you know, instruction? I was evidence gathering! He’s at mine but I’m figuring out where his family are and I’ll take him back! It’s fine!”

“Why is he at yours?”

“They didn’t have anywhere for him, short notice, plus his feet are kind of messed up, from them like, hurting him. He’s been there a couple of years so doesn’t have anything, so I’ve ordered him some clothes and stuff. He’s fine.”

Nancy tilts her head, like a predator working out the distance they need to strike, “he’s...fine?”

Steve knows he’s fucked up. Nancy is using that tone. It’s...a very specific tone. “Err...yes?”

“You have an injured Omega, who has been held against his will, abused enough to be, at the very least, physically injured, never mind the emotional toll this whole thing may have taken...and he’s fine?”

Oh, no. She’s raised her eyebrow in that way she has. “I mean...yeah?” Nancy glares, and Steve backtracks, “I mean. Obviously he’s not...you know, perfectly okay, I guess. He’s been through a lot. But I made sure I fed him plenty, and he’s got some clean clothes on the bed. The bed in the room...I never actually...got around to showing him to...because I got, distracted. And it’s upstairs…” Steve can feel his insides sinking, “his feet are hurt. Shit.” Well fuck. Steve's...fucked up, probably quite badly now that he actually stops for thirty seconds to think about it.

Nancy sighs aggressively out her nose in that way she has, “Steve your security system is like fort fucking Knox, did you at least…”

But Steve’s already shaking his head, because he didn’t do that, either. He’s just...locked Eddie into a new prison. Shit.

He scrambles, feeling guilty, “I’ll give him some of the money. A lot of the money. Hagan’s...stuff. He can have the ranch?”

Nancy’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “why on earth would he want the place he’s been kept prisoner for-”

Steve shrugs, “whatever he wants. He can bun it down if he likes, I’ll help. It’ll be like, therapy?”

Oh no, she gone from pinching her nose to rubbing that spot on her forehead, but then she seems to...deflate. Grasping Steve’s arm to hold him close, she actually speaks gently to him, which is, quite frankly, a million times more terrifying, “Steve. We’ve known each other a long time, now, so I say this with love. Money, wealth...is not the most important thing in life.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him, “I know. Alright, I know it can help, and it makes life a lot better for a lot of people...but giving people things does not...fix anything. Money is not an apology. Gifts are not an apology. And I know it’s hard for you to...see it differently, okay? Because you’ve always been very...driven, and that’s a good thing! I know how you grew up and how your father was with you and I know you feel you have...something to prove, okay, so I understand, I do. But...a lot of people put higher value on...just. I mean, maybe just go home. Say that you're sorry. Look after the Omega for a couple of days, make sure he gets home, okay? Maybe prioritize that, for a moment. You know the office will be fine...and maybe you’ll see that other things in life can have value, hmm?”

Part five

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mx-jinxous @goodolefashionedloverboi @bogwitchlesbian @lunaraquaenby @steddieinthesun @pluto-pepsi @disrespectedgoatman @i-eat-spinal-cords @waelkyring @kal-ology

[vigilskept]

gnashing my teeth thinking about how veilguard talks about the gods only as a joke when they could've gone somewhere truly crazy.... you're so right.

Yeah... you get it. It's just such a missed opportunity!

I don't even mind the jokey tone they use a lot of the time, because we all joke about things we struggle to understand/cope with.

Except Veilguard refuses to let you even try to broach the subject beyond that surface level. In fact, when it does let you engage with it at all, it manages to make things even less nuanced!

I'm just going to talk about Bellara's quest here since it's the most directly linked with the elven gods, and it's already a lot. Fundamentally, her companion quest is asking us two things:

Should elves be blamed for the actions of the Evanuris?

Should they preserve any of their past at all?

The first one is absurd to even begin with. It's not even a good or interesting take on the (very christian!) question: "Are we responsible for the sins of our ancestors?"

The Evanuris are not the ancestors of modern elves. Dalish religion implies that modern elves descend from those who the rebels never freed from slavery to the Evanuris.

This setup is already awful without looking at any of the parallels Bioware has (intentionally) drawn between the elves of Thedas and Jewish/Indigenous people. I have to put the rest of this under the cut because I genuinely don't think it can be shortened without making it sound flippant. In the context of the coding of the elves, the theological/social implications of all of this are so much worse.

TLDR: the indigenous/jewish coding of the elves makes bioware's treatment of elven religion in veilguard thoughtless at best, cruel at worst. they did not have to write themselves into this corner. there was a way of handling this lore reveal without the implication of elven religion (again, jewish/indigenous coded) being obsolete

So, the religion of the Dalish was part of their enslavement. It's the belief they were forced into by the cruel gods they are still devoted to. That's already pretty bad. How could it get worse, you might wonder?

Whether Bioware deviated from their initial inspirations for the elves or not, the implications for these lore reveals in light of those parallels are particularly cruel. Those two core questions in Bellara's quest? Yeah. Those have both been levied against the oppressed groups that Bioware chose to draw inspiration from. Both historically and presently. To justify atrocities against them.

And to be clear, Bioware does not deviate from or subvert the usual indigeous and jewish-coding of the elves in their writing here. If anything, they end up actively endorsing a very significant element of antisemitic and anti-indigenous sentiment.

Indigenous-Coding

Advocates of colonisation have always justified it by arguing they were 'saving' groups of people who were stuck in the past. They had been ‘left in the dark’ through ignorance of Christianity. In the more secular sense, this was framed as Europeans having journeyed through history to reach enlightenment, while the rest of the world was still in an ‘uncivilized’ state.

Christianity and progress had to be brought to these people to save their souls and bring them into the future with everyone else. Their Gods? There were only two possible ways to frame those. Either they were not real at all, or they were evil. Either way, they were obsolete.

In the Americas, these arguments were still used when corralling indigenous children into residential schools or tearing them from communities through the adoption system. Governments pushed the idea that they had to be forced to assimilate because they were 'backward' in their practices and beliefs.

In the settler-colonial state Canada, where Bioware is based, it's still common enough to hear people justify all of this as having been done "for their own good." Even those who admit that the ways colonization was perpetuated were cruel will still try to defend it by telling you, "it was bad, but their ancestors weren't saints either."

Sounding painfully familiar yet? A little uncomfortable in the context of Bellara's questline?

Jewish-Coding

Since the dawn of Christian Church, Jewish people have had a very fraught place in Christian theology. Christianity claims that that the coming of the messiah in the person of Jesus Christ makes the religion of Judaism obsolete. Christians believed the obvious answer to this problem was that Jewish people should convert.

When many did not, they were labeled as ignorant, obstinate, stuck in the past. They were so focused on their history that they couldn't see the truth which had been revealed in the present. There’s a significant legacy of this idea in Christian artwork with depictions of Synagoga blindfolded next to the clear eyed Ecclesia. You still hear echoes of this sentiment in antisemitic language today.

As for the nature of the Jewish God... there is some deviation here. For some Christians, He is God the Father, and He is good. For others — and this idea has been around from early Christianity till now — He is the Creator of the material world, but He is evil.

There are innumerable variations of Christian gnosticism that probably wouldn't be productive to get into on a Dragon Age Blog. What I need to underline here though, is that the idea of the Old Testament God as the devil/the demiurge/fundamentally evil, has been used to justify atrocity towards Jewish people for over a thousand years.

Should elves be blamed then? For the sundering of the Titans? For the Veil? For the Blight? For the evils of this world, created by their Gods?

Implications for Veilguard

Not only is religion in Dragon Age: The Veilguard often devoid of nuance or ignored outright, when the game does engage with it at all, it does so in a way that quite literally draws on these incredibly harmful antisemitic and anti-indigenous sentiments that have been (and still are) used to perpetuate real harm.

To be clear, I don't think the writing here intends to endorse the idea that elves should be blamed for any of what's going on. Bellara's anxieties are being projected onto her people as a whole while she grapples with what this all means for her, I get that. In fact, you could be generous and read some of this as a critique of this particular kind of anti-indigenous/jewish bigotry.

However, I don't think that absolves the writers of any of the implications they've created by confirming that the elven pantheon did exist and was canonically evil.

Elements of Dalish/elven culture might be preserved after all this, but the conclusion the game railroads you into is that their religion is obsolete. Just like Judaism. Just like the many Indigenous religions around the world. Except in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, it’s no longer just the bigotry of outsiders claiming that to be the case. It’s now the objective truth of the setting.

Going forward, the elves of Thedas can keep their culture, but they can’t practice their religion. If they continued to practice, they would be framed the way the Venatori are: evil and stuck in the past. This really can’t be overstated: this is the exact rhetoric that has justified centuries of violence and oppression of Jewish and Indigenous people. This rhetoric is still around and still weaponized.

It’s so cruel to create an in world ‘lineage’ that draws so heavily from their cultures and histories, then validate the rhetoric that has been used to hurt them. At best, it’s thoughtless. But as a company based in a settler-colonial state, this is something they should’ve put thought into, given that they chose to code their elves and Jewish and Indigenous. That was their responsibility, actually.

What gets me about all this is that they actually didn't need to force that conclusion at all. They could have kept the Evanuris as cruel tyrants without demonising the Creators and their worship at the same time.

The Evanuris weren't always Gods. They weren't even always rulers.

In Trespasser, when asked how they became Gods, Solas tells Lavellan that they did so slowly. That it started with a war. That fear bred a desire for simplicity. For right and wrong. For chains of command. That generals became respected elders, then kings, and finally gods.

Veilguard confirms all of this. The addition it makes is that before all this, the first elves were spirits who made their bodies out of the Titans. This all occurred over the course of thousands of years.

None of this needs to be retconned in order to allow for a respectful yet nuanced portrayal of religion!

TLDR pt2: bioware, u could’ve avoided literally ALL of this by making the evanuris part of a priestly class who seized power after the war with the titans. it wouldn’t even have undermined ur lore! u could’ve kept dalish religion alive! u could’ve implied complex political dynamics for your ancient elves without even having to write it! why didn’t you even try?

Trying to Fix This Mess

Say the elves took their bodies from the Titans and settled the lands of Thedas. Say the Titans even allowed this for a time. The dwarves were made from their own bodies after all.

Yet the elves didn't have the same connection with the Titans as the dwarves did. They had no stone-sense, so they couldn't understand the Titans' song.

Generations down the line, some of them took too much from the Titans. More than they were willing to give. That was when the Titans lashed out, making the earth tremble so that all the elves had built crumbled beneath them.

And what if the firstborn among the elves had taken up priesthood to guide the younger ones. They were closer to spirits than the elves that were born into this world, and so the younger ones looked to them for guidance. Maybe they were the ones who were trusted to reach out to the more powerful of the spirits who chosen stay in the Fade, their old kin who preferred to keep their distance from the physical world to preserve the essence of what they were. The spirits of Justice, of Benevolence, of Craft. Those who the elven people paid homage to, and trusted to preserve them in turn.

So when everything seemed to fall apart, the elves turned to their Keepers, their priests, and asked of them what they ought to do. How could they make the earth stop shaking? What would they have to do to be at peace again?

Whatever the spirits themselves may have responded, many of the Keepers (among them the Evanuris) took up arms and chose war. They saw it could be won so they fought, sundering Titans from their dreams and stilling the land.

And yet there was no peace.

Some Keepers sought to hold on to their power as generals, and wanted to wage war on new shores to keep it. Some Keepers thought they had already gone too far, claiming they had acted without the guidance of the spirits who hadn't wanted war.

These Keepers could've caused chaos and endless bloodshed, so the Evanuris formed their alliance to suppress the others. Likely, they thought they were doing so for the benefit of all the elven people. More war meant more death, and it was needless now that the land was still. And even if what they did to the Titans was wrong, it was done and they could not fix it. Better to silence those who meant to stir up fear among the people.

The Evanuris fought until they were the last faction left, naming the few holdouts the Forgotten Ones. They were praised for bringing peace to Elvhenan, and trusting in their guidance their people crowned them as rulers.

Yet some dissent always remained. None of them were infallible. They were no longer spirits, they hadn't been for thousands of years. They were now more accustomed to command than to priesthood after all that war. They had drawn on the power they had stolen from the Titans to gain the advantage over their enemies, and the corruption of the Blight was starting creep in, ever-so-slowly.

Maybe some of the people, unhappy with their rule, started to voice the thought that was expressed by their rival Keepers once more: that the Evanuris had grown distant from the spirits. That Elgar'nan didn't serve Justice anymore. That Mythal had strayed from Benevolence.

So Evanuris took the mantle of godhood for themselves. It was only for peace and stability.

It would be too dangerous if anyone could claim they were deviating from the will of the spirits, so they would claim they were those great spirits. Elgar'nan was Justice, Mythal was Benevolence. They would use their rule only for the benefit of the people, not abuse their power.

And there you go. None of what I've written above can't be neatly incorporated into the existing lore of Veilguard. It leaves the elves of Thedas precisely where they started in Dragon Age: Origins. Distant from their ancient Gods, trying to pick up the pieces of their forgotten past.

[candyswirls]

Child of Dorn

Had this in the works for a bit and was prompted to finish developing them with an insane dream where I was Garm and met them. That will be an entire story on its own.

These vile and putrid xenos had crossed the line!

A hive ship of tyranids had met the Phalanx and foolishly began launching spores at it. It was met with the full force of the Imperial Fists and several successor chapters that accompanied their Primarch's original legion.

Things seemed to be going well until several groups managed to get into the ventilation system.

One lone hormagaunt managed to make its way through the ship, undetected. Straight to the room that held the most precious of Fist relics.

The hand of Dorn.

Anger, disdain, and panic grew across the ship as the tyranid was discovered. But it was too late. It had already devoured the hand and managed to escape.

Rage and horror helped push the astartes to defeat this foe. Days passed as the battle went on.

It was only after victory that clean-up began and a discovery was made.

***

"You are certain this is the one?" The Lieutenant asked.

The battle brother nodded, "I am sure of it. Seeing it in a state like this brings me joy. It is deserving of it after the little thief... stole the hand of our Primarch!"

"Thank you," the Lieutenant said as he marched into the storage room.

Inside was massively swollen tyranid. Every part of it was puffed up. Like a balloon. Even its fingers were swollen.

The lieutenant had seen vermin on the ship look like this after partaking in poison left out for them.

The pathetic creature tried moving but was too bloated to do so.

The lieutenant scoffed, "This is what you get. I wish the hand was animated, so it had crushed your organs from within you. But it seems that either the hand or something else you ate now is killing you."

Other marines glared at the beast.

"I regret that I will be stopping your misery," the lieutenant continued. "But I will enjoy snuffing out your-"

The tyranid exploded. Viscera and blood went flying everywhere. All surfaces and marines were covered in the spray. The stench was awful but also... had a strange and familiar scent.

Several marines cursed at what happened.

The lieutenant growled, "How dare it end itself without my perm -"

He was interrupted once more by powerful and high-pitched screams. Not like any tyranid, though. It was different. Young. Human.

Within the remaining pile of innards, something writhed as it cried angrily.

Cautiously, the lieutenant approached and pulled away intestines and bits of flesh.

He stared at the squirming baby, upset at the cold air.

He found he could not move. Something about the child prevented him from killing it. They opened their eyes and stared up at him with a vibrant green. Then blue. Then purple. The iris constantly changing colors

Still stunned, the lieutenant ordered, "Go... go get... the apothecaries... now."

"Is that a tyranid?" One brother questioned.

"It's a human baby."

"That is NOT how babies are made."

"Did it swallow it?"

"And survive this long?"

"Why would a baby be on the ship?"

"That's a very big baby."

Apothecaries arrived quickly and gingerly picked up the supposed baby. It screamed defiantly.

Back in the apothecarium, various tests were done, and blood was taken.

The one who went to test the DNA came back looking like he'd seen a ghost.

"Is it a tyranid?" The lieutenant questioned.

He shook his head.

"So it's human?"

"No?" The apothecary answered. "I mean... yes. Human but... not baseline."

"Spit it out," barked another.

"They have primarch DNA," he answered. "That of our Father's."

The silence would have been deafening, were it not for the baby fussing and gurgling.

"Do not joke, brother."

"I never joke. See for yourself if you must."

"That was the tyranid that ate the hand... is this being from our lord's hand?"

"What do we do?"

"How are we going to explain this to the inquisition?"

The lieutenant whipped around and pointed at the brother who just spoke, "We are NOT letting the inquisition know about this. This is to only be known by our own chapter."

An apothecary picked up the baby, "We must inform the Chaptermaster of this..."

He lifted them up and checked under.

"This little girl," he finished.

She was now gnawing on his gloved hand.

"She looks lanky," another apothecary commented. "Perhaps due to the Primarch DNA and the ability of the tyranids to adapt is to blame here. It could have reactivated the regeneration, and the DNA of our Father was stronger than that of the xenos, using the tyranids' body structure and warmth to incubate and grow. This is complete madness."

"She has streaks of white in her hair and patches of lighter skin," one commented.

"Vitiligo," one answered. "Fairly common. Brother Artus has it."

The baby was now blowing bubbles from her lips.

"What do we call her?"

"What does she eat?"

"I don't know how to take care of a baby."

The lieutenant hushed the ensemble, "We will figure out how to take care of... this lanky baby."

***

The lieutenant bowed, "My Lord, we are honored to have you back among us."

The Primarch of the Imperial Fists slowly nodded. The pack upon his back pumped in rhythm.

"It is good to be back," he sighed with a rasp. "I wish I was in better health. Like how I was during the crusade. But perhaps my old hand can now be placed back upon me, save it is not too damaged and decayed."

He flexed the metal prosthetic.

Several of his marines eyed each other.

"About that," the lieutenant began. "There was an... incident that happened, and I'm afraid you can no longer have your hand back. But I believe the reason, and what it went to, will far outweigh your want for it."

Dorn raised a brow.

A door was opened, and the best description was that of an old Terran cartoon called Looney Tunes. It had a creature so ferocious it caused a tornado and left havoc in its wake. It was nicknamed a "devil." That is was entered the room.

The little being screamed and raced around the room at top speed, knocking anything over.

"Papa!" They exclaimed in a young and high voice.

Several marines were trying to catch them or have her calm down.

"Lanky!" The lieutenant called. "Lanky, come here! Lanky! Come meet your father!"

He managed to catch the little beast. The toddler buzzed like a battery.

"No!" She yelled. "Down!"

Dorn stared at her in disbelief.

"Shes..." He began. "Mine."

"Mine," Lanky repeated!

The lieutenant nodded, "We've done various tests and even had her psykically analyzed. It's a long story about how she came to be."

"You named her Lanky."

Lanky cheered, "Me!"

"It was a nickname while we decided what you would have named her and it stuck. Lanky, this is your father, Rogal Dorn."

"Papa!" She insisted.

The lieutenant set her down, and she ran circles around the Primarch.

"My papa," she exclaimed!

"Gentle, gentle," The lieutenant reminded.

The Primarch stared in shock, "She is... expressive and rambunctious."

"She only ever looks serious when fighting," the lieutenant replied. "She likes boxing and gets an unreadable stone faced look. She's also very talkative right now. Usually, she doesn't say anything except for fully articulated sentences at moments."

"Is this normal?" Dorn inquired, motioning to Lanky racing around him.

The lieutenant sighed and several other marines seemed to slump.

"Only when shes really excited," he answered his primarch. "It is typical for toddlers to be erratic and since day one she's been... wild. We hope that as she grows older she'll take on more of personality and calm down. There is not much of that hope."

Lanky let out a triumphant screech.

Dorn struggled to his knees and tried calling out gently, "Hey. Lanky. Come here."

She skidded to a halt and leaped into his arms. She squealed and kicked her legs.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked.

She threw up her hands, "My papa!"

She grabbed his cheeks and rubbed her nose against his then jumped to rubbing his cheeks against her own. She grinned up at him, a few sharp teeth sticking out.

Dorn chuckled and caressed her cheek, moving to her neck and tickling his hand down her back. Something his grandfather would do as a sign of affection for him.

Lanky's quick breathing slowed as she relaxed into his embrace.

"I've never seen her calm down that quickly before," The lieutenant whispered.

"I just knew what to do," Dorn admitted.

[drabblesandimagines]

Code Pizza

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Established relationship, fluff 1,531 words

“Can’t you go any faster?” The barrel of a gun is pressed against the already tender spot from where they’d oh-so-kindly whacked you round the head earlier and you wince, losing the slight flow you’d managed to build up on the keyboard – Leon’s words echoing around your head.

“Promise me you won’t ever do any of that self-sacrificing bullshit,” he’d mumbled in your ear, arms wrapped around you in bed. He’d got back from a mission that afternoon – been awful quiet about what it had entailed, what had happened and you hadn’t pressed.

“Me?”

“Mm. Like, if… If someone’s forcing you to do something – do it, we’ll sort out the mess later. You make sure you’re home and alive at the end of the day.” His voice sounded almost strained. “Just promise me, sweetpea.”

“I promise.”

Not exactly sure if this scenario was exactly what Leon had had in mind, but there’s a gun and a threat, so you’re typing… or at least attempting to.

“She’d be faster if you’d untied her hands.” Hunnigan grumbled from behind, seated in an office chair with her hands zip-tied behind her back. Yours are bound in front of you, keeping your wrists crossed, and essentially cutting one hand out of action entirely.

“Is that true?” Your minder – A, you decide to call him - leans forward into your peripheral vision, though his face is obscured by a ski mask – as is his companion’s – B - standing over Hunnigan. They’re geared up to the nines, spare ammo dangling off tactical belts, part of a larger operation in order to gain access to DSO HQ and you, apparently. The doors are locked down due to the emergency protocol, though the HQ works on a skeleton crew at the weekend so it’s possible that no-one even knows you and Hunnigan are in.

“100 words per minute at my best.” You shrug, eyes skimming over the code you’ve managed to get through so far. “I’m probably working at… 15 and less. So, yeah, it would be faster.”

“Nice try.” B states. “You’re writing code, not a novel.”

“Novel, no. Poetry, maybe...” You trail off. It would be a lot easier if you did have both of your hands, weren’t being held at gunpoint and not suffering from a raging headache.

You weren’t even supposed to be working, it being a Sunday. You’d been in yesterday working overtime on a project, but this morning had been spent catching up on dull chores around the house – laundry, going to the store, cleaning - and then the plan had been an afternoon of video games on the sofa, ordering a pizza for dinner, accompanied by a bottle of wine. Leon had been away a couple of days on a need-to-know basis and you didn’t have a date of when he’d be back, though he did always try and give you a couple of hours’ heads up on his impending arrival.

Early afternoon, just as you’d sat down, controller in hand, you’d got a call. Not from your boyfriend, however, but from one Ingrid Hunnigan, extremely apologetic but there had been urgent developments – vague, as always – and she needed you in ASAP. You’d agreed, couldn’t really refuse her, but you’d decided in a slight show of protest you weren’t getting changed into your more professional work wardrobe. If it truly was an emergency, they’d have to deal with you in your jeans and t-shirt…

..which had led to the nasty bruise on your temple when the intruders had burst in, taking you as a civilian to be subdued. When you came to, hands now bound, head thudding, fingers being snapped in front of your face to get your attention, you were wheeled in front of the computer terminal and given your objective.

“It’s faster in the movies.” A comments, waving the gun lazily now at least.

“We’re not in the movies.” You grumble back, irritated. “I’m writing a bespoke code to get into this system.”

B comes to stand at your side, then. “Well, our contact promised us that you were some sort of genius at this sort of stuff.”

“Maybe when I’m not concuss-” You’re cut off by him slamming his fist on the desk besides you, making you jump and your heart pound.

“Enough lip, enough excuses. Concentrate.”

You shuffle in the seat, repositioning your hands and continue on with what’s been demanded of you, Leon’s words echoing in your mind.

Your phone emits a jingle from your pocket – speak of the devil…

“What’s that?” B demands, looking around.

“It’s my phone – just a text.”

“You were meant to search her, you idiot.” B chides his companion. “Where is it?”

“Jacket pocket.” It chimes again.

“Someone’s popular.” You bite your tongue as he crouches down besides you, placing a hand unnecessarily on your thigh as he dips his hand in your pocket, fishing it out. “Who’s LSK?”

“My boyfriend.” You don’t need to turn to know Hunnigan’s trying to hold in a grin.

“Says he’s on his way home, wants to know if you’re there.”

“Can you tell him I’m working late and he should order pizza for dinner? I haven’t been grocery shopping yet and I was meant to.”

“I’m not your secretary,” B scoffs.

The phone chimes again. You’d set Leon’s messages to that obnoxious sound to be sure you heard it, not wanting to miss a chance to text with him whilst he was away. If he had time on his hands, his texts often turned to stream of consciousness until he got a reply.

“You ignoring me, sweetpea? God, he’s a bit needy, isn’t he?”

“He’ll just keep doing it unless I text back,” you pause in your typing, “Or I can do it…”

“Ah-ah, keep working.” B replies, tapping at your phone’s keyboard.

It chimes again and B sighs.

“He wants to know what you want.”

“Er…” You hesitate a moment, pretending to doublecheck a string value. “Veggie. Extra jalapenos.”

He taps again and sends, before placing your phone down on the desk out of reach. His hand squeezes your shoulder and he leans in. “Keep coding like a good girl, and we’ll make sure you get home for that pizza.”

--

You don’t know how he managed it with the protocols in place – surely it means there’ll be another security review - but a mere 45 minutes later after ordering your pizza, Leon comes crashing down from the ceiling, taking out A and B with single, effective shots in the chest as he does.

He forward rolls out of the impact and gets to his feet with a flourish.

“Sorry for the wait, ladies, pizza’s free since it wasn’t 30 minutes or less.” He grins, heading to Hunnigan first and cutting through her restraints.

“Do I even want to ask?” Hunnigan quirks an eyebrow, rubbing her wrists. Leon walks over to you next, crouching down in front of you and cutting your wrists free. “Wait, extra jalapenos?”

“Bingo.” You reply, though unable to tear your eyes away from Leon – he looks tired, not unusual after returning from a mission, in need of a shave. He cups your face, fingers gently brushing over the tender spot on your temple to assess the damage. “It’s a dumb code, we know.”

“No, it obviously worked. Good thinking.” Hunnigan nods, getting to her feet and approaching another terminal, sliding in her keycard to overrule the emergency controls and release the doors. “I need to call this all in – get it tidied up. Did you gain access?”

“No, couple of lines away, though.” You look at the lines of code on the screen. “I did spend a lot of time to make sure it had a real nice interface for when I ran it, for extra pizazz.”

“Good work – both of you.” Hunnigan turns to face Leon directly then, “Make sure you keep an eye on her - took quite a hit.”

“I will. Thanks, Hunnigan.” He remains crouched at your feet, your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Good. And don’t come into tomorrow – either of you. I’ll deal with… this.” She strides out with purpose, shoulders back, nothing alluding to the fact that she was a woman who’s been held hostage for the past however many hours.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You smile, staring deep into those blue eyes you adore. “I’m good. You?”

“Won’t lie, not quite the homecoming I expected. Come here.” He pulls you up out of the chair and against his chest, wraps his arms around you and kisses you frantically, though you know it’s in relief.

“Had me worried with those jalapenos,” Leon admits, softly.

“I kept my promise.”

“Mm, not quite.” He pulls back and grins – you know that grin – but you still let out a squeal as he hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up in his arms.

“Leon, I can-“

“Nah, your promise isn’t kept and my mission isn’t over till you’re home. Allow me to give you the full hero experience.”

You roll your eyes, before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Fine. But we’re still getting pizza.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, sweetpea.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[leggerefiore]

any short ideas on how some of the characters (including lucy would be nice but it isn’t necessary :D) fare against the cold? colress has a cooling system in his coat so he’d probably have a heating system too… and of course everyone has seen ingo handling the cold </3

a secret Lucy fan hiding among the masses....

characters: Ingo, Emmet, Colress, Lucy, Grimsley, Nanu, Volo, Archie, Maxie, Cyllene, Cyrus, Kabu

▲Ingo▼

● The older Subway Boss is well-adjusted to cooler temperatures. For one, the Gear Station stays a pretty consistent temperature always due to being underground, often skewing a bit cooler even with moderated air control. And, two, well, he lives in Unova. The region is known pretty well known for its icy winters. Many times, Ingo had nearly taken a tumble, walking out on the iced over sidewalks. He is well aware of how to bundle up and stay warm. That, and he finds his love of coffee quite beneficial here. The warm beverage helps keep him nice and heated. Though, he does get quite red cheeks in the cold. It is a bit cute to see. (Oh, and Chandlure is an enormous help in keeping him warm. The spooky chandelier hates to see him so cold.)

▽Emmet△

○ The younger Subway Boss hates the cold. He whines about winter and refuses to go out as much. Instead, he bundles up under a ridiculous number of blankets and runs a space heater. Ingo worries about him in this state. Unova's freezing temperatures are a maddening part of the year. Elesa watches him become a recluse in real time. The only thing that inspires him to face the day is his job. He loves his trains verrry much, so he will put on five extra layers and go to work. He has his Archeops cuddle with him to help keep him warm. Its plumage keeps it warm despite the whole half-rock thing. He loves hot chocolate, especially at this time of year, to stay extra warm. People assume he is downing coffee like his brother, but he is not.

🥼Colress🛸

🧪 The scientist was familiar with all kinds of climates. Though, notably, he did originate from Unova. He knew the cold very well due to the shifting climate of the region. Winters could be particularly harsh… So, he made his Achromatic Wearable Console able to manage both highs and lows in temperature. Should it get too cold, the internal heating kicks on and keeps him warm. Though, honestly, he prefers the cold to heat. It reminds him of a lab environment. That, and being hot, quite impacts his focus. If it is especially cold, he pulls out a scarf the same colour as his blue hair streak, which is quite a sight.

💜Lucy🐍

🟣 This Frontier Brain? She hates the cold. Hoenn is a warmer climate with mild winters. She is not at all prepared for cold weather… In fact, to her, anything under 13°c (55°f) is almost unbearable. Much like her choice in a partner pokemon, she wants to curl away on colder days and just wait for it to pass. Her annoyance is skyrocketed by fewer challengers, too, in colder weather. She usually ends up wearing a jacket at 15°c (60°f) and huffs the entire time. At least she looks a bit cool in her Serviper themed jacket. In the battle of snake woman versus cold? Cold wins.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ The gambler is more than used to chilly winters. Hailing from Unova, he has seen insane winters and even faced a few without heating (due to various reasons). He is more than adept at handling the cold and seems completely unfazed, even in his usual attire of a suit. It is a bit shocking to see. Though, if it becomes too much, he has his Liepard come out as a warm water bottle of sorts. If it is entirely awful, his Houndoom is out and absolutely pressed against his side. Though, he never lets it reach his face. He does get a bit of red in his face, however. In truth, Grimsley prefers warmer climates. Which is why he ponders Alola some days. For now, however, he will deal with Unova's insane seasonal shifts.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 This old man? Does not mix well with the cold at all. Alola is his home, and he quite enjoys the tropical paradise's climate. Yet, in his last life, he ventured all over the world and experiences climates of all temperatures. He discovered quite quickly that he hated colder environments. A heavy coat over his suit made him look goofy when mixed with his cheeks as red as his irises. Many asked him if he was quite alright. He wanted to say that he felt like he was going to freeze to death, but he bit his tongue. No, Nanu did not enjoy those times at all. He was glad to be in Alola, where he did not even have to think about the cold unless something to do with Mount Lanakila came up.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ The merchant is more than adept at facing the various temperatures offered up by Hisui. Though, more often than not, the region offered up cold temperatures that would scare many away from settling. Yet, Volo dared to face this region's extremes with ease. For one, he simply had too much love for where his bloodline had settled long ago, and for two, well, he found himself enjoying the isolation the cold tended to warrant. It was even in the Icelands that he met his beloved partner pokemon. The little egg-like creature wandering up to him with such gentle eyes. Yes, Volo would dare say he even liked the cold. His body did not even need many layers as the Galaxy Team members demanded to face it. Though, he did have to get out a few extra blankets for overnight. (His Arcanine would suffice it truly grew to be too much.)

🌧Archie🌊

💧 Surprisingly, the Aqua Leader manages the cold well enough. While Hoenn usually faces mild winters, he is pretty unbothered by cooler temperatures. Archie does not even get out a coat typically, which scares some people when he is still wandering around in his wetsuit like summer is not long gone. Why is he so adapted? Well, the ocean gets pretty cold, and he loves the ocean. His Sharpedo is always pretty cool to the touch, too. Oh, and his team's hideout is an actual seaside cave. Archie guffaws at people's shock of learning this often enough. He is no wimp, of course. Unlike a certain someone he knows.

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 The Magma Leader hate, hate, hates the cold. There is nothing he can stand less than being cold. He wears a sweater in the sweltering heat of a volcano – This man cannot handle temperatures below 25°c (77°f). He simply is seen bundled up in the most mild of temperatures. Most people look at him like he is insane, even in Hoenn. His Camerupt comes out frequently enough for him to snuggle into and steal the pokemon's warmth. (His Camerupt quite enjoys this, of course.) His face is as red as his hair in truly cold temperatures, and he is utterly miserable.

🌙Cyllene🌌

🌕 The Survey Corps Captain is admired for her capable of facing many things without faltering to emotion or hesitation. However, she has one plain weakness that curses her. She hails from Hoenn. The Galaxy Team HQ is quite well insulated and even features heating – Something she dearly enjoys. She is far from used to the winters that Hisui provides her. The poor Captain braves the cold while attempting to pretend she does not wish to return to her homeland and enjoy a sweltering summer that almost could suffocate you to the dry coolness Hisui gives. She cannot bear the cold as well as she pretends to and refuses to let anyone know. Her envy for the Galarian professor being so bundled up is silent. At least, she is excited to hear a more “tropical” part of Hisui is to be developed… Perhaps she will move there one day when retiring from her work. (If ever.)

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ The Galactic Boss will never, ever admit that he cannot bear the cold. It will never leave his mouth – It will never express itself on his face. However, he cannot stand it. He grew up in Sunyshore – A bright, warmer place – He found himself despising that very thing and refusing to ever step foot inside that city again. However, one horrible piece remained a burden on him. His preferred temperatures. Most of Sinnoh was cool all year around, and he simply had to deal with that. Longer sleeves were simply his preferred management. Though, most Galactic members will note their boss's warmer attire choices, even if the temperature is considered moderate for Sinnoh. (Granted, the HQ is kept quite cold due to the various machines around, so many chalk it up to that.)

🔥Kabu🏅

💥 This old man… Well, he has lived in Galar for some time. Despite his origins of Hoenn, he has adjusted to the more temperate and cooler averages of the island region. Granted, he does still bundle up a bit more than expected in the cooler months. Their winters certainly are not comparable to what he faced in Hoenn. But he feels he runs hot, so it almost balances out. He finds the cooler temperatures as no real bother for him anymore. Though, when he first moved, it had been a bit of a shock. He would rather not think of how his poor his reception had been. Torkoal had been his literal hot rock during that time. Usually, he just puts on his coat and enjoys a nice warm meal to get over the cold now.