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a-dragons-journal · 3 years

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i dont "kin for fun" but through tiktok i found out about the whole kin for fun vs actual otherkin... situation ig? im having a really hard time taking it seriously... maybe im just burnt out and bitter from dealing with the worlds current events, and maybe its because on tiktok the only people i saw mad about it were white people, but you're the most reasonable person ive seen talking about it (a lot of other posts have this odd tone that 12 year olds on tiktok saying kin is the worlds greatest opression and it weirds me out) so ig my question is just... why exactly does this matter? why does it matter enough to post about and care about and not just ignore? /gen

Hey! I don’t blame you for being a bit weirded out by it, we’re a weird subculture and we’re well aware of it! xD I appreciate you taking the time to actually look into it past your first knee-jerk reaction, especially considering burnout and the state of things.

I’m not totally sure if you’re asking why otherkinity matters or why the “kin for fun” being wrong matters, so I’ll answer both - they’re pretty well tied together anyway.

The short version:

Otherkinity is an identity. It’s who we are, we can’t choose to pick it up or put it down, and it comes with struggles - though no, ‘kin are not systematically oppressed (though we are pretty badly bullied and, at this point, pushed out of our own words and spaces).

What people calling roleplay/relating to/projecting onto characters “kinning for fun” does is steal our words, make them meaningless, and in doing so, make it difficult or impossible for us to find each other. If someone says “I kin [x],” I no longer know whether they mean “I am [x] on an intrinsic level” or “haha I relate to this character a lot”. I no longer know whether they actually share my experiences or if they’re going to turn on me and call me “crazy” as soon as they realize I’m not exaggerating or joking or roleplaying. It’s done massive harm to the community as a whole because it’s become difficult to tell whether someone is actually ‘kin or if they’ve misunderstood the whole thing - and because antikin rhetoric, which I’m seeing more and more in KFF spaces, hurts far more when it’s coming from inside what you thought was a community space than when it’s coming from self-labeled “antikin.”

There are other words for roleplaying and relating to and projecting onto characters. Hell, there are words for strongly identifying with-but-not-as characters/things, though usually KFF people don’t even seem serious enough for those to fit in my experience. I’m really not sure why these people are so determined to steal and misuse our words, words that were specifically created to mean something else, when they already have their own and are just refusing to use them. (Or, hell, if you don’t feel like those fit, make your own. We did. It’s your turn to put in the work. (General you, not you-the-anon, of course.))

An analogy, if that still doesn’t quite land for you:

Consider, for a moment, the transgender community. I am aware this is a dangerous thing to say, but bear with me. Obvious CW for hypothetical transphobia up ahead is obvious.

Consider if you were part of the trans community (I don’t know if you are or not), having finally found a word to explain why you feel the way you do about yourself, why your experiences don’t seem to match up with those of everyone else around you. Having found a community, a home, full of other people like you, people you never would have met if not for words like “transgender” and “gender dysphoria/euphoria” that were created specifically to describe your experiences.

Now consider if people suddenly stumbled across your community for the first time who were not trans themselves. They see community jokes and lighthearted posts out of context, because Tumblr and Twitter aren’t exactly conducive to making sure people find the Transgender 101 information posts first. They don’t bother to do further research, assuming they understand: ah, these people like to crossdress! They like to pretend they’re a different gender! This seems like a fun hobby, I want in!

They begin to post things like this. They post photos of them crossdressing and caption them “hi, I’m [name], and I trans men!” and things of the like. Suddenly the concept of “transing for fun” seems to be everywhere - and it’s not at all what being trans actually is, but these people either don’t know or don’t care. When actual trans people try to politely correct them, they’re accused of “gatekeeping” - and to be clear, this is not “nonbinary people aren’t real,” it’s “transgender means you identify as a gender other than the one you were assigned at birth, and you’re self-identifying as the gender you were assigned at birth 100% and telling us this is just a fun hobby for you, therefore you’re not trans, you’re crossdressing or doing drag or being GNC. That’s fine, but it’s not being trans - you have other words to describe that, use those.”

(Yes, I am aware these things have a history with the trans community - please just ignore that for the sake of the analogy and bear with me on the slightly simplified version of this. “Kinning for fun” does not have that same history with the otherkin community.)

...And then the response to those attempted corrections, in some corners, turns into “wait, you ACTUALLY think you’re another gender? idk that sounds pretty unhealthy, maybe you should see a psychologist or something :\” and “you’re taking this too seriously.”

I imagine, in this hypothetical scenario, you’d also be pretty fuckin peeved.

(Obviously, in this hypothetical scenario, systematic transphobia would be an issue as well, which isn’t the case for otherkin - again, you’re gonna have to bear with me on the simplification for sake of analogy there.)

(EDIT: this is not an anti-MOGAI/exclusionist argument, this is “you’re literally telling me you don’t fit the definition,” explanation on that here)

The long version, which is probably still worth reading if you have the time and energy:

Otherkinity is... pretty core to who I am, who we as a group of individuals are. We live with being otherkin on a daily basis. Many of us spent a long time feeling different and disconnected and not understanding why until we found the otherkin community. Even people like me, who don’t share that experience and still had social connection - I’ve still had to live with weird differences that I had to learn to mask when necessary; instincts that don’t line up with human society well, feeling body parts that weren’t there and that no one else ever seemed to have, things that other kids grew out of because it was just make-believe for them and I... didn’t, because it was never make-believe for me to begin with. Oh, sure, I played make-believe too - I played warrior cats and house and all those things with the other kids, but there were things that weren’t play-pretend for me too. I didn’t have an explanation for it for a long time - it was just how I was, I was weird, and fortunately for me personally I was okay with that (many of those with species dysphoria or more trouble connecting with humans have more problems from that than I did).

And then I found the word “otherkin.” And suddenly everything fell into place, and I had an explanation for the things I’d been experiencing, and there were other people like me. Something I’d assumed didn’t exist. I found others who shared my unique experiences, who were talking about how to cope with the instinct to growl or snap jaws at people instead of expressing annoyance in a human way instead of just saying “that’s weird, don’t do that”, who were talking about dealing with phantom wings and tails, who understood me. I wasn’t weird, I wasn’t broken, I was exactly what one would expect from a dragon living in human skin. I found an explanation for myself. I found a home.

That is why otherkinity matters - it is who we are, it’s not something we can walk away from (certainly not most of us, anyway), and it’s something many of us need the support of the community to help deal with on a daily basis. Being a nonhuman in human society isn’t always easy, but it’s not something we can just magically stop being - it’s core to who we are, we (generally) didn’t choose to be this way, and we (generally) can’t choose to stop. Which is fine - the vast majority of us can cope with it just fine, with a little advice and help and space to be our authentic selves in. We found each other, we built this community from the ground up to make a space and words to make finding each other easier - or possible at all.

Thus we come to the second half of our story.

It was only a couple of years ago that the “kin for fun” trend started getting big. It had existed before that, of course, but it only started going mainstream two, maybe three years ago, from what I can tell. Suddenly people were treating “kin” like it meant relating to, projecting onto, roleplaying as, or just really really liking a character or thing - not being that thing, which is what it actually means. Not long after that, it became hard to tell whether someone saying “I kin this” meant they were that thing, that they were actually part of our community - or that they really really liked that thing and either didn’t know or couldn’t be bothered to learn that that wasn’t the case for us.

Not long after that, it became relatively commonplace to hear phrases like “otherkin are ruining kinning!!” and “you’re taking this too seriously” and “idk, if it’s that serious for you that sounds unhealthy. maybe you should get some help :\” (all directly quoted, or as exactly quoted as I can remember, from things KFF people have said to me or people I know).

It is a special kind of hell, I think, to be told “you’re taking this too seriously, that’s unhealthy” by people who are taking words created to describe your experiences, not theirs, and misusing them to mean something that you do for fun on a weekend instead of something that’s intrinsic to your being.

Perhaps more importantly, like I’ve said, it’s making it almost impossible to know whether someone who says “I kin [x]” is actually ‘kin or if they’re misusing our words to mean something else entirely. The entire point of words is to communicate ideas, and once you start misusing words to mean something totally different than what they actually mean, that communication falls apart and suddenly we might as well not have those words at all. Especially when the community is small enough and obscure enough that we’re starting to be outnumbered by the misinformation. We’re being run out of our own words, words we created to describe our experiences specifically - because we’re a small community that the wider internet can easily drown out by sheer numbers of people who either don’t know any better or don’t care to learn.

That’s the harm it does - the harm it is doing, right now. That’s why it’s important enough to post about. That’s why it matters - because we’re fighting desperately to hang onto our own words so that others like us can actually find us. Because we’re seeing young nonhumans go “this isn’t a kin, I actually am this” and screaming “No, I’m so sorry that this is what the misinformation has done to you, that’s exactly what otherkin means, you have a place here, please don’t let these non-’kin misusing our words drive you away from the very community you’re looking for and that you belong in.” Because we can’t even communicate effectively about our own experiences anymore except in semi-closed spaces like Discord servers and forums (and the number of Discord servers overrun with KFF people is absurd).

......This got very long. Hopefully it at least explained why it matters so much to me and others a bit better ^^; Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you again for looking into this beyond your initial knee-jerk reaction - I really do appreciate it.

(For further reading, if that text wall didn’t blow you out of the water completely, I recommend my “kin for fun” tag, which has more posts like this in both short and long form.)

#probably should've put this under a cut but oh well #otherkin #kin for fun #kinnie #kinning #rani talks #asked and answered #anonymous #rani talks A LOT apparently sbfldkngjlksdf #i have a lot of feelings on this #long post

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yoonsshadow · 4 years

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ETERNAL - iv

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; talk of death, ptsd/flashbacks, war zone, heavy violence, course language, panic attack

➳ word count ; 2k

➳ note ; Hello! I know that this chapter took a little longer to get out, and it is a little shorter than usual, but it’s because it takes a lot of time and research to make sure that I’m doing this story justice. That being said, I hope that you enjoy!! The journey for these eight have truly begun now, and boy, do they have a lot coming. :3

masterlist

For a while now, your life has been slipping between your fingers. Like a shadow passing through the night, every moment has melted through you, pooling at your feet until you’re slipping, falling, thrown to the ground. From the moment the first bullet was delivered through your skull, you have lost grip of your control; of the things you hold dearest to you.

Sitting here, surrounded by these seven men, that empty cavern in your chest aches just a little less. It hasn’t started to fill up yet⎯⎯might not for a very long while⎯⎯but the silence no longer echoes.

“It still feels weird to think about,” you say, soft voice carrying through the room with ease. They are all listening so carefully that you cannot meet any of their eyes. “That I died, I mean. I’ve had time to rationalise it, but my whole life has been spent thinking one way⎯⎯believing in life and death, mortality, the fragility and preciousness of living⎯⎯but now I’ve been killed multiple times, died naturally a handful more, and so it feels as though the whole world has been skewed and I’m yet to find my balance.”

Your fingers fiddle together in your lap, eyes downcast to the empty soup bowl on the coffee table.

“The story of how I died the first time is kind of a long one. I can’t tell you about the final moments without explaining everything that led up to it, but there are a few years of history to go through. So, if you want me to condense it…”

“We have all the time in the world,” Namjoon assures, and it could be a joke, a satirical remark regarding your current situations, but instead he speaks with the utmost care, as if he is afraid of any wrong word, any misstep. He is telling you that they are patient, that they don’t mind waiting, that they will listen to every word you say. For you.

And it warms that hole in your chest enough for you to meet his eyes⎯⎯all of their eyes⎯⎯and offer a small smile. Then you nod to yourself. This is a story you need to tell, no matter how painful the memories are.

“Two-and-a-half years ago,” you begin, “the Special Warfare Command uncovered the elaborate smuggling operation of North Korean forces. Untraceable men⎯⎯assumed Black-Ops⎯⎯would enter South Korea through other countries using fake documentation. It’s unclear how long they stayed, months or years, but they would eventually kidnap vulnerable children and smuggle them to North Korea via Mongolia and China.

“Unfortunately, it took years to trace the movements of these men to a point where we knew what they were doing and how they were doing it. The SWC eventually concluded that North Korea were kidnapping and training future sleeper agents and spies, and avoiding suspicion by hiding in the Gobi Desert. They had an entire base of operations on a grey-zone of the border between Mongolia and China, and managed to leave no traces of their movements.”

You need to take a deep gulp of air at this point. Up until now, you have merely stated facts; regurgitated information as you have been told. However, you know that everything from this point on will become personal. You try to think back on your years of conditioning in the army.

“It was at this point that my team was requested for the operation. The 707th Special Mission Group has hundreds of personnel, all within two assault companies, one support company, and one all-female company. There are many missions in which female operators are a better fit, this one included, and out of the female company, my team was chosen.

“When I was promoted to Captain, and at such a young age... All I felt was excitement. Excitement for such an honour, for the experiences ahead, for being able to lead my very own team. The women on my team worked so well, too. We had many successful missions, small and big, and we were ready for this operation. We were ready for Operation Fawn.”

The air in your lungs stutters as you exhale, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. You’ve avoided thoughts of the thirteen women who had become your friends, your family, but now you are submerged in the memories. Both joyous and tragic.

A few of the men around you look as if they want to move forward, to comfort you, but they also know that it isn’t their place to do so. Not yet.

“The plan was relatively straight-forward. We had found the location of the children, and so it was our job to silently infiltrate the site. Remove all hostiles, retrieve the missing kids, bring them back safely. It wasn’t unlike other missions we had completed before, so we were confident that we could execute it without fail.”

Pulse pumping loudly in your ears, heart beating violently in your chest, you begin to see flashes of that night, playing before your eyes without your permission.

“Get down!” A bullet whirs through the air where your lieutenant’s head had just been, close enough to be able to hear it cutting through the air. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, peeking around the corner of the collapsed wall for the rest of your team, “how the fuck are there so many of them?”

“Captain.” A voice cuts through the chaos, the intercom in your ear crackling to life. “They’re still pouring in - West entrance - all armed. There shouldn’t be this many men.”

You land shots on three oncoming men, their bodies falling to the ground, but they are quickly replaced by more on their way. You have to do something; you can’t allow your team⎯⎯or the children⎯⎯to die tonight.

While your lieutenant watches your back, you fiddle with the dial of your radio, changing to a different channel.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?”

No response comes through, and you’re forced to move from the wall with your gun poised, firing shots at any unfamiliar figure you see.

“Command, this is Dragon, do you copy?!”

A grenade explodes a short distance away, shaking the ground and sending you stumbling.

“Command, this is Dragon, Operation Fawn has been compromised! I repeat, Operation Fawn has been compromised! Delta Team needs immediate backup, over a hundred hostiles, and counting!”

Either the commotion around you drowns out the voice in your ear, or you’ve yet again received no response. You are starting to get desperate.

“Jesus fuc⎯ we’re completely overwhelmed, Command! My team can only hold out for a little while longer, but these fuckers just keep pouring in! Something is wrong, there shouldn’t be this many of them, we can’t fucking⎯”

Somebody tackles you to the ground. Gunshots, shouts, dirt in your face, a hand on your throat. The man on top of you is heavy, but you’re able to roll him off of you and shoot him between the eyes.

The blood splatters across your goggles.

It’s all too much. There are men everywhere, and you can’t see any of your team members throughout the chaos. You can’t get through to your command centre. Everything that was supposed to be easy tonight has gone wrong. Something heavy, and dark⎯⎯something that feels a lot like doom and panic and we’re going to die⎯⎯lurks in your guts, but you can’t think about that right now. You have to find your girls, have to save these children, have to stay alive⎯

Your fist aches nearly as much as your thudding chest.

Images of death and violence fade away as you blink violently, flexing your fingers individually and then all together, mind still scrambled, still alert.

There are hands on your shoulders, solid and heavy and grounding, and a pair of soft eyes searching for yours. All eyes in the room are on you, but all you can focus on is Yoongi, who looks as if he knows, as if he understands.

And there is a fist-sized patch of red on his left cheekbone. God, your fist, his face, what have you done, oh god I’ve hurt him⎯

Cool air blows on the silent tears that stream down your cheeks, your bones trembling with adrenaline and fear and sorrow. He’s saying something, lips moving slowly, but the clouds in your head are muffling everything. His hands move to hold yours.

You recognise the movement of his lips as the words breathe, it’s okay, and you try your best to obey, but your throat has closed up, tight like the grip of that enemy soldier who had held you to the ground⎯

Yoongi brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing your fingers into him, and you faintly feel the thudding of a heartbeat against your palm. Then, he breathes in, slow and deep, and you follow.

In and out, one by one, Yoongi slowly guides you to breathe steadily once again, your chest growing less tight with each shaky gasp. The tears have stopped flowing, and your limbs have calmed into only a slight tremor, and the darkness in his eyes are captivating. You want to lean forward, let them swallow you whole, but you instead squeeze his hands in silent thanks.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he whispers, and you realise that your head has calmed down enough to take in your surroundings. All seven are watching you with a careful and guarded eye, but you find no pity. It brings you a sliver of relief.

Rather than replying, you merely nod your head and allow Yoongi to pull you up onto shaky legs. Exhaustion is already weighing you down, and all you want to do is escape your own mind.

They have been once before. You, asleep in the spare room, and them, huddled together on the lounges. They are worried about you, but they are also much more; the fear in your voice, the heartache in each memory, was familiar to them. As they watched you relive your trauma, they relived theirs as well.

“I’m sorry, I-” Namjoon’s words stutter out, unsure, unplanned, unlike the way he usually speaks. “This is my fault. I should’ve known- it was too early to- and maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt...”

“Hey, no.” Seokjin’s hands on Namjoon’s shoulders are as firm as his words, kind eyes seeking regretful ones. “Don’t blame yourself; this is nobody’s fault. She made her decision to tell us. Don’t take that away from her. And we all know that she couldn’t help that reflex. Yoongi’s been hit harder.”

“We didn’t even hear the rest of the story,” Jimin pouts, nibbling his lower lip between his teeth. “Like, how she died, how her team died, what happened to the mission.”

“We’ll have to be patient,” Yoongi sighs. His cheek is already blue and purple, and will probably be fully healed in an hour. “We know the fundamentals, anyway. A mission that was supposed to be clear-cut somehow got turned on its head. It cost her team’s lives.”

“How does something like that even happen?” Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s pout is not quite as full, but still full of the emotions he is trying to keep in. “It isn’t just her team that got hit, but the entire Special Warfare Command. This was a big operation, guys, so something like this should’ve been prevented.”

“Do you think…” Jeongguk is clutching a pillow close to his chest. “Do you think somebody from the inside betrayed them?” Six faces turn to look at him, shocked at the implication, shocked that it makes sense. “I mean, the information about the operation would have been top secret. North Korea has resources, sure, but they shouldn’t have known the when, where, and how of the mission. Somebody had to have turned.”

“Who would’ve done it?” Jimin’s question is not asking for an answer. He feels sick at the thought.

It is at this moment that Hoseok chooses to emerge from his deep silence. When he speaks, his voice is regretful. Knowing. “I think she knows exactly who did it.”

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tags: @leafyturtle, @loveyoongles, @paint-music-with-me, @barbikatherine, @itsmorgo1604, @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @veronawrites, @applepie1000, @yoonchrisgullwrites, @ally22042000, @ireallylikefoodandyoutube, @blglmgk01, @basicgukk, @softescapism, @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered, @m1nt-3lla, @hunnayesblog, @rosycheekb, @hemmofluke, @the-bisaster

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tigerdrop · 4 years

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hey i just wanna say the long posts genuinely make my day. also can you talk more about gordon freeman character because the way you write him makes me quake in my gay little boots

i would love to talk about gordon freeman. thank u for the opportunity

the first thing i need to communicate about gordon is that this dude sucks. and i say this in the fondest way possible. he is a bitch from the moment he drops into the world until the moment he goes out. if you dont believe me, give it another watch! gordons mouthy and rude for no real reason, at least so far as “being a regular dude on his way into work” goes, and this dude goes around calling his coworkers names with zero provocation. (of course, we all know that the reason is because its a funny guy improv stream that borrows a bit from freemans mind, but im talkin from a character sense.)

but my argument isnt just that gordon freeman sucks. its that he sucks in a very specific way that i find insanely endearing. i love this dude. i love to hate him. hes awful in a very mundane sense - weve all known a guy like this, at least if youve spent too much time online - and its cathartic to watch him suffer because of it.

gordons a smart guy. as written, hes gotta be - hes a recent MIT grad, on his way to work at a top-secret research facility to do weird shit with crystals and theoretical physics. but the thing about smart guys is that theyre often......selectively intelligent. we can see this in the way that he has a hard time navigating his surroundings, and needs the science crew to guide him through it and keep him alive.

this is one of those things that is a natural consequence of somebody going through the game for the first time, but that i am interpreting as “gordon is kind of stupid sometimes”. its uncharitable but its not like he doesnt deserve it. he likes to boss around the crew as if he knows what hes doing, when he often very much does not, and is fond of demeaning their intelligence. hes real bad about this with tommy in particular, treating him like hes a kid whos playing at being a scientist when tommy is actually a decade older than him. all i am saying is that gordon ought to stay humble. hes awful cocky when he perceives himself as better than others.

which, i think, tracks with how cocky he gets when he gives up on the whole “well-meaning citizen” thing and just unloads bullets into people. he puts up a front of being a Nice Guy, you know, just some dude caught in a bad situation who doesnt like seeing his companions obliterate every NPC they come across, but that doesnt stop him from cackling like a fucking madman and mowing down aliens (and soldiers) every once in awhile. when he stops seeing himself as helpless and starts seeing himself as the one in control, the gloves come off. he gets mean. and i think thats very sexy of him

this, among other things, is why i am insistent that gordon freeman is a control freak. he desperately wants to be in control of the situation at all times, shepherding around the science crew primarily by bitching at them, but its of limited success. its futile. sisyphean. tommy, coomer, bubby, and benrey exist almost to torment him with exactly the thing that would make him suffer the most: a gaggle of people running around causing problems for him, but he cant go anywhere without them b/c hes reliant on them to make it out alive.

its perpetual suffering, and its cathartic to watch. and funny, too. and if youre a little weirdo like me, its very, very enjoyable. how twisted up he gets when nobodys listening to him! how sweaty and frazzled he must look. its cute, and it also makes me want to reach through the screen and shake him and tell him to just be a little nicer. he wants control but he doesnt know how to attain it, he doesnt know how to play nice like a real leader. i think its a neat contrast to gordon freeman as we know him in HL2, where he literally is the leader of the resistance and has to live up to it. this is gordon freeman but if he was moe through helplessness.

“helpless” is, i think, a great way to describe him. a core bit of imagery in half life is this sense of railroadedness and helplessness, with gordon freeman being put into play like a chess piece and having no choice but to move forward. and this iteration of gordon leans into that by being totally dependent on the science crew in order to make progress and Not Die. and hes also subject to the whims of benrey, local eldritch weirdo who has basically made it his life mission to fuck with gordon.

gordons anxieties dont help with that. if he wasnt so fun to stress out and fuck with, the science crew probably wouldnt do it so much! too bad for him that they like fucking with him so much that he was driven into a panic attack (multiple times, even, depending on your interpretation). hes got that real neurotic mindset. always worrying about shit that could go wrong, and attempting to exert control over his surroundings in an effort to control the anxiety.

IMO the real way to nail the Neurotic Gordon Freeman Experience is to combine the ever-present anxiety with his pervasive sense of self-loathing. he openly states that he has no friends and nobody seems to like him, and to that, i really gotta say, i wonder why. he doesnt really seem to factor in that hes kind of a bitch, and has way too high an estimation of his own intelligence relative to everybody elses. its really one of the worst ways to be: aware that people dont like you, but unaware of exactly why. if he was like, 10% nicer, he probably wouldnt have had half as many issues getting through black mesa, but also, its funny to see him squawking his way through the game. so, you know.

its stuff like that that makes me headcanon him as a dude with low self-esteem in general. convinced that hes not likable, not attractive, out of his element......impostor syndrome, except that theres some truth to it. this is a guy who truly does not realize how good he has it: he really is just an average shitty dude, and yet, somehow, benrey took a shine to him. some poor motherfucker out there actually likes him and wants to suck his dick. thats dedication

also, i keep bringing up “repression” when i talk about gordon. and hopefully, what ive been talking about helps explain why. he has a strong desire to be a regular dude, not just murdering his way through black mesa, but if hes pushed hard enough he leans into it. gets bossy. picks up a cigar off a dead soldier and takes a long drag, before smacking forzen around with a pistol and ordering him around. gordon freeman is a regular, kind of anxious guy who likes competitive swimming and streaming on justin.tv and making anime references, and he is also a guy who takes a filthy pleasure in making a trained soldier his bitch. and i didnt make up any of this shit - this is purestrain canon, baby. this is a guy with problems

to me, this screams the kind of guy who represses a lot of shit b/c he doesnt feel like its morally decent. you run into this guy a lot online: the wokeboy, the online leftist, the guy who spends too much time on social media websites. (like reddit. i think he would actively use reddit and he would never get any appreciable amount of karma but he never stops posting. its sisyphean! cathartic.) from the way he talks about “bootboys”, i think it tracks. he knows about imperialism, he knows about feminism, but at the end of the day hes your average american white dude who struggles with internalizing it.

a lot of those dudes struggle with sex and gender issues. (dont we all.) when youre trying to be a Good Person(tm), you spend a lot of time thinking about your own relationship to sex and kink and all that shit. and i maintain that a too-online dude who buries a lot of his control freak tendencies would also try to bury a lot of weird sexual shit in an attempt to seem Normal and Well-Adjusted and not like a little freak. i justify this by the sheer number of times gordon blurts out weird sex shit as a joke. there are only two outcomes to making that many piss jokes: either youre secretly a piss guy, or you lathe-of-heaven yourself into becoming one. i will stand by this

ive talked a lot about why this dude sucks. now, let me talk to you about what makes gordon so much fun to write. first things first: hes funny! a subjective evaluation, yeah, but both in- and out-of-character, hes aiming to be funny. and being the straight man to everybody else plays into that whole “helplessness” thing.

secondly: underneath it all, there is a good dude under there. gordon worries when his companions get hurt, he tries to clean them off and patch them up, and hes got his lil leftist heart in the right place. you could even read a lot of his bossy, bitchy demeanor as him wanting to make sure everyone gets out okay and doesnt hurt themselves. when it comes to animals and anti-imperialist sentiment, gordons a pretty good guy.

hes the kind of guy who would probably see a dog on the street and get excited and play with it, but would get really prickly about the correct way to put dishes in the dishwasher. control freak tendencies.

finally, subjecting such a miserable, tormented guy to even more psychological anguish is really, really fun. you feel a little bad for him, but he kind of deserves it. so many problems he goes through are purely of his own making, and if gordon would just relax and quit trying to hard to maintain control - of himself, of the people around him - and own up to having Problems and Issues, he would be a happier guy. but thats why its fun to bend him until he breaks. being a little control freak myself, putting gordon freeman thru psychosexual torment is cathartic.

when it comes to writing his thought processes, the fact that he is canonically some kind of psychotic (yes, i am boldly claiming this. suck me) and i am also canonically some kind of psychotic makes it easier to write what i think his thought processes are. i just give him my brain issues of “getting lost in thought” and “overthinking fucking everything”. a touch of paranoia helps. even if i dont explicitly label him as schizophrenic please know that i am writing him as a paranoid little nutcase at all times because, uh, you write what you know.

paranoid. anxious. of the mindset that everyones out to get him (which isnt helpful when everyone is out to get him). repressed and deeply Not Normal but trying so very fucking hard to be normal and well-adjusted. a control freak with sadistic tendencies who also really, really likes getting bullied by his best frenemy. a hapless little nerd who sounds really cute when his voice starts to break from nerves. and, most importantly, a dumb jock. do not ever forget this.

thats gordon freeman, babey. hope that helps

#asky #careposting

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ofieugogyshz · 4 years

Text

Fic;; Memories: Riolu IV

Word Count: 8900 officially over 9000 now

Summary: Sarah accepts Cynthia’s invitation to visit her in Celestic Town. On her second day there, she finds herself visiting Cynthia in her grandmother’s home, and, once again, facing an internal struggle that her Riolu, Lance, and Cynthia, were set on helping her with.

Warnings: Lots of bad mental health, self-depreciation spirals, abusive thoughts to self. Also some awkwardness. (But it gets better!)

Notes: This is the thing that’s just been. taunting and harassing me for weeks, and i am so done with it. i am so sorry that it’s like, 2x as long as the others. I really hope it’s worth it to you guys, because I am just so done with it. Edit: Fixed up some spots, and re-pasting it added paragraph indents, so ????

(Series Masterpost)

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

After helping me with my Riolu, Cynthia invited me to visit her in Celestic Town.

“I'll be there for a while, researching more myths.”

I told her yes, but when she offered to take me with her, I declined. I said that I wanted to walk the rest of the route to fulfill my Pokedex.

“Oh, you're working on a Pokedex? That sure takes me back...” She had a wistful look on her face. “I went on a big adventure with a Pokedex when I was younger.” I told her to share with me some of those stories when I met up with her in Celestic Town. She gave me her number, and we parted ways for the time being.

I spent the rest of that day and the next playing with my Riolu named Lance to make up for the issues we had ran into. Totally not connected to the Lance of fame. Yep. Definitely not. But it wasn't like I had that much of a choice. My friend, his father's trainer, had named him that for me as a cute little joke. I suppose I could have picked a name and told my friend to name it that. But I wanted to know what a Pokemon was like before I named it; and without the Pokemon in front of me, it was so hard to find an appropriate name. But watching Riolu-- little Lance fight our way up Route 210, I couldn't help but think that maybe my friend Blaze had the right idea in naming him after him. He was definitely strong and determined like his namesake, and showed plenty of care towards other Pokemon.

<<Can we call my namesake today? I wanna tell him how strong I got!!>>

I laughed. Now that I had accepted it, it was cute whenever he asked to talk to Lance. Lance—the human-- thankfully couldn't understand what the little Riolu was saying, but watching him entertain the notion was cute. Endearing. Enjoyable.

I looked at the time. Lance might be available now...? I had tried calling him earlier, but it went straight to voicemail. Probably working, I thought to myself.

“Let's try again after we get to the Pokemon Center in Celestic, so you guys can see each other with the videophones.”

And so we went through the rest of the route. It was a rather annoying route; there were many obstacles in our way, not including the fog that limited visibility. It took a few days to traverse the rest of the route by foot. I was able to train up my Pokemon a lot more than I expected. But even with the great training it provided, I was so relieved when I finally saw the rustic buildings nestled away in the mountain range. Even if it hadn't been Celestic, I would have been grateful just to stay a few nights away from the mess that was the foggy mountainside.

It was daytime when we arrived. I immediately looked for the Pokemon Center and checked in. When my Pokemon were returned, I let Lance out of his Pokeball.

“You know what, I think I'mma call you 'Little Lance', if that's alright with you? It's a little confusing talking to my friends about the both of you...” That was only partially a lie. I thought it might help distinguish them, yes, but I also still felt a little embarrassed calling him by that name... I was hoping a working towards a middle-ground might help.

Lance considered it for a moment, then shook his head.

<<Nope.>>

“Aw, but c'mon! It's super cute, calling you 'Little Lance'. Ooh! I could even call you 'Lil Lance'”

But he wouldn't budge.

“Ugh, fine then.”

<<Can we try calling Lance now?>> he asked, pointing to the videophones. I thought about it for a moment.

“I suppose so... It's almost time for our weekly call anyways.”

<<Yes!>> Lance curled up his fist and pulled it back in excitement. It was so cute to see him emulating a human gesture; he must've picked that up from me in the last week.

I picked up one of the receivers and dialed Lance's number. My heart was pounding, as it always did whenever I called him. Often I worried that I was being a bother. Things like, “Maybe I should call back later,” would plague my mind. But for some reason, I felt less nervous about it now. Maybe because Lance the Riolu was there, just as happy as I was to talk to him, that it made me feel less scared.

No answer still.

“Hmm... Weird.” The landline recording asked if I wanted to leave a message; I hung up. It wasn't that important to me to miss once. I had to let it not be important.

<<What's wrong?>>

“He isn't answering. Hope everything's alright. He's probably busy with other stuff right now.” I wonder if they officially made him Champion yet, or if they're still filling out the paperwork on that, I thought. He had mentioned that a few weeks ago; though that had little to do with him not answering. My thoughts were wandering far away on the topic, musing on what that conversation would be like when he told me that it was officialized. Lance tugged at my pants.

<<Can we visit Miss Cynthia then?>>

“Yeah, let me just see if she's available.” I pulled out the number she gave me, slowly typing it in. It rang once before being answered. There was no visual, so I found myself staring at a screen that just said “No Visual”, accompanied by the image of a Chatot.

“Hang—Hang on a moment.” Cynthia's voice sounded far away and strained, like she was just out of reach of her phone. The distant sound made me curious on how she had answered it, but I didn't have time to think about that, because she suddenly came in much louder and clearer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Cynthia? It's Sarah.”

“It is! I'm glad to hear from you! Are you nearby? I can go out and meet you if you want.” She sounded eager, excited. Had she been looking forward to this? I didn't think so. I was just a trainer she had met twice; and younger than her, I would later discover. Maybe the sound of her happy voice was because she just had a breakthrough with her research, and she couldn't wait to tell someone. I highly doubted she was excited to hear from me, after all. Not after the impression I gave last time.

Lance looked at me, his ears drooping a little as he examined me. Ah. Right. I shouldn't be thinking a thought like that. I guess that was something both Lances wanted me to work on.

“I'm already at the Pokemon center,” I told her. I scritched behind Lance's ears, making him feel better. It helped me, too. “I just got in.”

“Oh! That's perfect! I'll come get you.”

We hung up. She arrived in about fifteen minutes, brushing dust and dirt off of her coat as she arrived. Based on what I had seen of her in pictures and in person, I never would have imagined that she could look so disheveled.

“Where were you?” I asked. Lance and Pika both ran over to greet her.

“Oh, excavation. Have you learned about the Celestic Ruins yet? It's why I love coming back here so much! I can show you later, if you'd like.”

“N-no, that's fine for right now...”

We hadn't made any plans for the visit, so Cynthia gave me a short tour of the small town. In its center was a crater, and in the center of that crater was a small shrine. She told me that it dates back to ancient times; many of the town's residents still prayed to the deities and Pokemon they believed were tied to it. Behind the shrine was a cave; on each side of the cave's entrance were two large drawings, of what I presumed were ancient or mythological Pokemon. Beyond that, there was little of interest to passing trainers. The town was so small that it lacked a proper Pokemart. Instead, an old couple sold things from their home for any passing trainers that needed to restock between Mt. Coronet and their next destination. I wasn't sure if it was surprising or just interesting that the Champion considered this town her favorite.

For lunch, she took me to one of the few places to eat in the small town. While there wasn't much to catch Cynthia up on, I found myself excitedly telling her how Lance and I got along better since we last saw each other. She listened intently, speaking thoughtfully and giving me advice. I found myself asking her for a casual battle-- not one with her title on the line, but as between new friends.

“Very well then,” she said. “I should let you know-- I plan on going all out!”

“Couldn't ask for a better match myself!”

I sent out a Luxio and a Roselia, both Pokemon that I had caught here in Sinnoh. They were doing great at Gym Battles, and I figured the experience with a Champion might help them grow even stronger. Cynthia quirked an eyebrow, interested in the unspoken challenge of a doubles battle. She sent out a Garchomp and a Gastrodon. The double Earthquake duo had a huge advantage over Luxio; Roselia could handle Gastrodon, but that still left her Garchomp. As we battled, I did my best to keep my two Pokemon from fainting, but there was only so much they could do at their current strength. We both called back our Pokemon when the battle was over.

“That was a great match! The confidence in which you issued your commands allowed your Pokemon to trust you, and they responded well! I can't wait to have another battle with you when they've gotten stronger.”

“Tch...” Though she gave me high praise, the defeat still stung. “We should have another match with my aces.”

“Hmm. Perhaps another day... Don't forget that the key to growing as a trainer is to challenge yourself! Playing it safe is going to deprive yourself of new possibilities.”

She was right on both counts. One battle was enough for now. I had gotten a glimpse of what waited for me when I would challenge the Sinnoh Elite Four and its Champion, and I felt myself eager to train with my Pokemon for when that day would come. Beside me, Lance had looked on in awe, little tail wagging during the battle.

<<I want to battle too!>> he said to me. I knelt down to pat his head.

<<Maybe next time.>>

The next day, I headed over to where Cynthia was staying. We realized that we had a shared interest in mythology, so she invited me over to look at some of the texts that her and her grandmother kept. Pika followed behind me with Lance. I could hear the both of them talking happily amongst themselves, and I smiled. It was nice to hear him feeling like a member of the team again.

When I got to the address Cynthia gave me, an older woman answered the door. She adjusted her glasses, looking me up and down.

“Um, hi. I'm here because Cynthia invited me. This... is the right address, yes?” I looked at the address she had hastily scrawled down for me, and showed it to the woman. She didn't bother looking at it.

“That's correct. My granddaughter told me that she would be having a friend come over. Didn't think it'd be someone so young.” I winced. She motioned for me to come in, closing the door behind her. I took a look around. Stacks and stacks of paper were all over the living room, or what I thought was supposed to be one. Cynthia's grandmother followed my line of sight and sighed. “Pardon the mess. When we both really get into our research, it shows.”

“Ahaha, it's okay. Kind of reminds me of my room,” I said without thinking. Woops. Probably shouldn't've mentioned that. That wasn't a good impression, but hopefully it wouldn't mean something bad to them, if it came back up.

“In here.” Cynthia's grandmother had led me down the hall and stopped in front of one of the doors. “Cynthia's already in the library. She said she wanted to pull out some texts for you to read before you got here. Knowing her, she's probably already got a huge stack prepared for you. I'll be going out for a walk, so if you need anything, let Cynthia know.”

I was alone in the hall with my Pokemon. Lance and Pika stood on either side of me, looking up at me. I was a little nervous, and her grandmother's comment on my age left me feeling a little unsettled. Was she expecting someone older? How much older? I just realized that I don't even know how old Cynthia is! Is it really okay to call ourselves friends if she's much older than me? But I found the nerves paling in comparison to my excitement. I was excited to have someone else to call a friend; excited that the local Champion had called me a friend to her grandmother. But more importantly, I was excited to see the library that she had. All the books, all the texts, the myths and years of research that people had put into studying these things-- even if I was only interested in reading only the myths, being surrounded by so many books would be so exciting! Old books had that especially exciting aesthetic appeal to them, just thinking about it...

<<Are you okay?>> asked Lance. He tugged at my clothes, pulling me out of my reverie.

“Ah, yes. Thank you. Sorry, I got a little excited...”

<<You must really like books.>>

The comment made me smile. I took a deep breath and knocked loudly on the door.

“Come in!” I could hear Cynthia's faint response through the door. I turned the doorknob and pushed.

The sight of so many books greeted me. They were on the walls, stacked against shelving on the walls. Some stacks were so high that some of the desks and chairs were buried and hidden from view. Everywhere I turned was littered with books, folders, and handwritten notes.

“Sarah! I'm so glad to see you!” I could see Cynthia in the center of the room, holding a cup of tea. I could barely make out the sight of some fancy-looking seats centered around a coffee table in the middle of the room. I smiled, and closed the door behind me.

“Thanks for inviting me!” I said. I started walking towards her, my Pokemon carefully hopping from low bookstack to bookstack like the floor was lava. I began to talk excitedly, sentences running into each other as I couldn't wait to share what I had to say. “I'm so glad you asked me to come over, this is so amazing, and---L-Lance!!! W-w-what're y-you doing h-here?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, face flushing, unaware that there was going to be company. Much less company that I liked.

<<I'm sorry, was I not supposed to jump on the books?>> asked my Riolu. The sudden change in my reaction, the strange query mentioning his name, had left him confused. It took him a moment to realize what was going on with me. He looked to where I was stuck staring, as though I were stricken with a Glare attack and could not look away. I heard a happy yip from him, and he ran towards the red-headed trainer that was seated on the couch.

<<It's him!!! It's him!! My namesake!! We get to meet my namesake!!!>

“You must be the little Riolu that I've been talking to over the phone!” I heard Lance say. He caught the little Riolu, ruffling the top of his head. My Riolu looked up at him, starry-eyed, before turning back to me. I was still stricken to the spot. Cynthia came over to me, gently pushing me behind the back to lead me to a chair that was seated on the side, between both of theirs.

“Come on in! Don't be afraid to sit down with us!”

“I-I'm not!” I said quickly, the words out of my mouth before I realized what they were. I shut my mouth right then, glancing at Lance, before looking back at Cynthia. She gave no indication that this was intentional, but I had the underlying sense that it was... I was suddenly hyperaware of how I presented myself. I quickly placed my hands in my lap. I kept my legs together, though one foot would begin bouncing in place before I knew it.

Pika had heard the excited commotion and came over to me, peeking her head over a pile of books to look. When she saw who it was, she ran over and happily nuzzled Lance on the cheek.

I felt simultaneous embarrassment and envy of her at that moment. I could have cried. I wanted to cry.

Sensing the conflicting emotions, Lance-- the Riolu-- came over to me and climbed into my lap. He was emanating so much happiness from meeting Lance –the human-- that it started to put me at ease. I wrapped my arms around my Riolu, gently resting my chin on his head, wishing I could have fiddled with something instead.

I watched as Lance picked up my Pikachu and set her down on the couch, gently scritching her under the chin.

“And hello to you too, Pika! It's been awhile since we've seen each other, hasn't it friend?”

“Chu! Pika pikachu!!”

<<My namesake! My namesake!!!>>

This was going to give me a headache, if I didn't die from embarrassment first. I tried to suppress a groan, and looked to Cynthia once more, trying to get help from her. Any kind of help. But her attention was already towards Lance, ignoring my distress.

“I'm glad to see that you're such good friends with Sarah's Pokemon already.”

“I've met her Pikachu several times, both in and out of battle. The Riolu is new.” He turned towards me. “I hope he hasn't been giving you too much trouble?”

I sat up straight when he addressed me. “Hm?! Oh! Um, n-no, not recently,” I said, lying a little. But I could feel Riolu become a little angry with me for the lie. He didn't like me being dishonest, it seemed. “A-actually, Cynthia helped us with a, uh, misunderstanding about a week ago, so things are actually better than before!” I gave him a nervous smile.

“I see.”

“It was moving to see. Sarah really is passionate about her Pokemon.”

“Y-yeah, I am.” I turned towards Lance, asking him the same question that I asked earlier when I came in.

“W-what are you doing here, Lance? I thought you were busy, with, um. League stuff?”

“Cynthia invited me to come out. She said that she's found an ancient connection between Sinnoh and Johto, and asked if I was interested.”

“But aren't you supposed to be at the league right now?”

“Since we're still in the process of obtaining a new Elite Four member to replace me, the League's been closed. I normally have time off from the Pokemon G-Men when the League is open, so I haven't had as much to do for the time being.” He looked at me, a curious expression on his face. “Why, did you want me to be there?”

“W-what?! Uh, no, I guess? I think?” I didn't know if that was the right answer or not. This was making me so nervous, so on edge. I didn't know which way I should play into this. “I just thought that you wouldn't be able to come this far north, is all.” I looked away, cheeks flushing a little. “You never mentioned it in any of our e-mails or calls.”

“It was last minute,” Cynthia interrupted. I looked over at her; she had been watching the conversation. Her legs were crossed, one elbow propped up on a knee as she rested her chin on the back of her hand. She had an inscrutable smile on her face, but the body language told me all I needed to know. She definitely planned this. I felt my face grow hotter as I realized it, and all the implications that could mean. Riolu squeaked as my arms tightened around him.

Cynthia continued. “I had the breakthrough a few days ago, and I thought he'd be interested. I found some text that suggests that Sinnohans may have moved over to Johto, but the connecting thread mentions a cave that no one's been able to find in Johto. Not yet, anyways.”

“She thought that I might like to try and find it.”

“Ah.... I see...”

“Oh! Before I forget, these are some of the books I wanted to show you, Sarah.” Cynthia got up to grab a small handful of books. She placed a few of them on the table in front of me; I was so apprehensive of the situation now that I couldn't even glance at their titles. My Riolu looked at the books curiously. “You might enjoy familiarizing yourself with Sinnoh's myths and traditions. It's a region that's full of beauty and history!”

She handed Lance the other books she held. I watched as she spoke so passionately to him about the ruins that she had found mentioned in her texts. I found myself a little jealous. Cynthia was a beautiful, confident, and an amazing trainer. She had no problems talking to Lance and keeping him invested in a conversation. And I could barely talk to him without becoming extremely flustered, stuttering and stumbling over my words, uncertain of which ones to say at all. I wanted to say all of them, in all the ways and combinations, until I could find the best ones to say to him. But with that desire to talk to him came the same conflict of being noticed, of being watched, of being paid attention to. As much as I wanted it, I didn't want it; because if he saw me, then he was watching me. And if he was watching me, then that meant that I could be judged one way or the other over something I did. Something I said. The way I looked, the look I gave off. I didn't want him to think less of me because of that. Cynthia, on the other hand, didn't seem to care about the mess that her library was in. She knew who she was and confident that it was more than enough to be liked, to be respected. I yearned to have that kind of confidence, that fearlessness. But I had to be liked. I had to be well-liked. I couldn't stand letting someone think worse of me for an accident or lack of attention or knowledge.

So I sat there, quietly watching the two of them as they became more invested in their conversation, until I thought myself forgotten about. The things they spoke about were beyond my current knowledge, and I, for once, could not interrupt. The two of them got up to look at something else in the library, ancient maps I think. I sunk into my seat, letting out a long sigh. Riolu looked up at me from where he sat in my lap, confused and concerned.

<<What are you feeling right now? I know the confusion.>>

Jealousy, I thought back. I was jealous of her. Not to a bitter extent, but... She probably could have-- I couldn't finish the thought, the mere idea of it making me hurt. I wanted to cry. Riolu turned around to press his forehead against mine.

<<I don't understand your feelings, but I do know that you're in pain right now. I hope you can feel better.>>

“Thanks.”

I watched as Cynthia helped Lance find reference materials for the Sinjoh ruins that she talked about. He hadn't heard of it before, and Cynthia speculated it was somewhere far north of his hometown. Lance placed a hand on his chin as he thought, looking carefully at the maps she had on the wall and the documents she showed him. It looked natural, seeing them together. Perhaps if I was in a better place emotionally, I could have enjoyed watching him in a different element.

The two of them seemed to flow well together, I found myself thinking as I observed them. I didn't want to, but it came unbidden. They looked good together. People probably think... nicer things about the two of them together than if it were me with him. I was not pretty. Today, I didn't feel smart enough to even join in their conversation, though I obviously could have picked up the information. I couldn't deny that, and so, the argument inside my head began.

My thoughts struggled between telling me I was worthless as a trainer and proving all of it wrong. I was good at Pokemon battles, and I had defeated the Champions from Kanto and Hoenn, but I didn't choose to take that role of responsibility that came with being Champion. It wasn't something I could do. It required a lot of work, and I wouldn't have been free to continue on my own journey. On the other hand, it wasn't impressive to not take up the position. That was the only thing I was confident about. All those achievements didn't mean that I'd be interesting to someone. Someone that I struggled to initiate a conversation with, and sometimes procrastinated replying to text or email messages to, and thought for hours on a reply, just because I didn't want to worry about him thinking awful of me. But...

My eyes roved over to where the two of them talked. I felt something awful in the pit of my stomach. A pang of jealously.

I wish I could be like her.

Anyone but myself.

Ugh. I hated these thoughts. But once they started, they wouldn't stop coming.

If he got with me, it would be such a joke. The media would have a field day. And why would he even get with me? Because I have a one-sided crush? That's bullshit. Plus, she can talk to him about things, and hold a conversation, and, damn, even get him to travel to another region for just a myth that she thought he might be interested in? I can't even do that. I mean, I never asked him, but why would I? I know he won't show, even if he didn't have all those responsibilities. And I'm strong as a trainer, but I'm not as experienced as her. I can't even accept that my own selfish feelings might be hurting my Pokemon. I thought I knew a lot, but it's just as much hot air as Eusine. And then there's just... UGH. Expecting someone to get with me, looking like this? A Milktank, no a Snorlax-- wait what was that cat they have here? Purugly. I'm so ugly, so awful--

<<Sarah?>>

It was a sound like a cold drop of water. The burning, burdening chaotic swirl of thoughts stopped, for just a moment. Riolu's thought was like a cool, soothing balm. I opened my eyes. I hadn't even realized that I had them shut, tears welling up in the corner. He touched his forehead to mine. After a few moments, I felt a calming wave of energy sweep through my body, relaxing all the muscles that had tensed.

<<Better?>> he asked, thoughts full of concern.

Yeah, I thought back. I hugged him tight, closing my eyes again. That helped a bit. Thanks.

<<Good. Because you got Miss Cynthia's attention.>>

That made me jump. I opened my eyes again to see her standing nearby, a gentle smile on her face.

"Are you doing okay, Sarah?" she asked me quietly.

"Uhm.. Mm… y-yeah. I-I'm okay now."

"That's good. I'd hate for you to feel awful while we're all here." She gently ran her hand along the back of my head, and rested it on my shoulder. "Please, have some tea. Or, if you'd like, there are more beverages in the kitchen. I could get you something to drink.”

I looked at her, then looked over to where Lance was, still invested in the scrolls.

"Uh, um. No, I'm okay. I have water in my bag. Thank you."

It was strange. She had such a caring aura about her that I wanted to break down and cry to her. To let her know about everything that was upsetting me, including how I was both jealous of her, and that I admired her. That I hated my conflicting feelings. That I lacked the courage I would otherwise have, when it came to Lance. I wanted to ask her for advice, but I hated the idea of needing to seek it. Knowing that she showed so much care to me, a trainer she had only met a few times, was enough to make me want to break down.

But my Riolu, Lance, continued to emanate calm energy, keeping me from reacting in a way that I would have hated. He didn't understand it, but he understood enough to know that keeping me calm was what I needed most at the moment. Crying was one of the last things that I had wanted to do.

<<Thank you, Lance.>> I thought to my Riolu. I'd have to remember to give him a good treat later on.

"Do you want to step outside for a bit?" Cynthia asked me suddenly.

I blinked. I looked up at her, confused. Was she… Trying to get me to leave the room? But… did that maybe mean….

As though reading my thoughts, she quickly added, "I could give you a tour of the house. Though, I suppose we should avoid my room, it is a bit messy from all the paperwork…."

"I, uh…"

"Great!” She turned her head, calling out over her should, “Lance, we'll be back in a bit. If you're interested, there's some books I found on the Johto region, pre-dating the Tin and Brass Towers in that corner over there."

She got me to take off my bag and come with her. Riolu followed, though he didn't have much choice as my emotional support Pokemon at the moment. Pika stayed behind; she was enjoying the small snacks that Cynthia had left out. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her.

Cynthia gently guided me towards the back of the house. And by gently, I meant that she gently pushed me towards the back, ignoring all confused protests with cheerful replies. She led me outside, to where there was a wide, empty dirt yard. She let out her Lucario, much to the joy of my own Riolu, who now squirmed in my arms so he could say hello to his newfound hero.

"Gahhh… I'm sorry about all this. I should have thought more carefully about it or let you know that he was coming over."

"Wait, so it was planned?" I said, turning around on her. I didn't know if I should have been more angry or shocked that she knew all along about my feelings towards that Lance, and still let this happened. “Or at least the him coming over part…?"

Cynthia leaned against the banister of the porch. She didn't say anything for a moment, as though she was trying to carefully word her thoughts. I waited, trying not to be angry, trying not to be embarrassed.

"I thought it might help," she finally said.

My emotions decided: I was angry, mad at her, though I couldn't put into words why. But…. I believed her. She really was trying to help me. I could feel it. And as I stared angrily at her, I felt my conviction weaken. Her Lucario stood nearby, palms out; he was using his aura powers to connect our spirits so we could better understand one another.

"...You're really scared about this," she said with a mixture of pity and understanding. “And you're right to feel angry; I should have asked or talked to you about this beforehand.” She slapped her forehead, muttering a simple idiot to herself.

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I really am. Both angry and scared. Because I already did this once, like an idiot, and erroneously assumed that that's what you do to like people. That you just... Decide to. And then you tell them that you want to date them and then you become boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever and it all goes uphill from there. But it didn't. And I'm lucky at all that he still let me get to know him after that. But I guess not enough, if I didn't know that he was coming here..."

Cynthia paused, giving a thoughtful hum. Then, she said in a hopeful tone, "Well, what if he wanted to surprise you? When was the last time you guys got to see each other in person?"

Her questions gave me pause to think. I never considered that, but I also didn't think I was important enough for something like that. Like he'd come all the way out here just to surprise me, when my Pokemon journey meant that I could be anywhere between a city and a route, even stuck somewhere. Sure, I normally tell him where I was heading or planning to go; but there wasn't a guarantee that I would have been here. Or anywhere. Planning a visit was one thing, but a surprise one....?

"C-c'mon now…" I looked away from her, eyes searching ground for things to say. Burnt orange dirt greeted me as an answer. A single rock, a couple of weeds, more dirt. Nothing useful that could be said. “There's no way that he'd... wanna... I mean, I'm not someone important. I'm just a stupid, annoying teen, annoying some guy that I kn--” I stopped, horrified. “Oh Arceus, I should be leaving him alone, shouldn't I?! I bet I seem like some crazy stalker fangirl and-- ugh. Damnit, Sarah, how could you be so stupid!? You're bugging him so much--"

I was cut off as an unlikely hand-chop came down on my head, causing me more surprise than pain. Doink.

"Owwwowowowowow." I clutched at my head, tears curling up in the corners of my eyes from the pain. I looked up at Cynthia, whose hand was still vertical and poised to chop me on the head again. “What'd'you do that for!?”

“What about all those calls?” Her voice was stern.

"Courtesy. He's just doing them out of courtesy, or to be nice, or because I seem crazy enough that if he doesn't he's worried I might--"

Doink.

Another hand-chop to the head.

I rubbed the top of my head, tears welling up in frustration now.

“You need to stop the negative thinking! He wouldn't take the time out of his busy schedule to do all that just because you annoyed him, Sarah. Trust me; I've had my fair share of crazy fans, and I wouldn't let any of them near me like I've let you. I'm not saying this to get your hopes up, but it's clear that he think you're someone worth keeping near. For people like us, where we're constantly being hounded by media and trainers looking for personal gain and not much else, that's a lot. We have our own lives; but it's hard to let people in them. And with the frequency of those calls that you guys have--”

“E-EH?! W-w-wait, y-you know... a-ab-about.... th-those!?” The way she had so casually said it this time had caught me off guard. I don't know why I hadn't froze up at the first mention of the calls mere minute ago.

“Lance told me.” At the sudden deep blush that set across my face, she clarified. “Your Riolu, I mean. ...I see now why the name might have been difficult for you.”

“Oh.” I still felt alarmed, but I relaxed a little. That meant he wasn't sharing stuff like that with other people. Not that I wanted him to. I didn't want to think about what it meant if he was sharing that to someone else, especially not with Cynthia.

“I apologize, for not telling you that he was coming over. You were so afraid and scared to say Lance's name,” she said, nodding towards my Riolu, “that I thought having you come over while he was here might have helped. I didn't let you know because I thought that you might run away... And I thought that you might appreciate the surprise of getting to see him again, in person.”

“I--” I stopped to think about it. She was right; I would have thought about running away. But I realized that, despite all the fluster and frustration and everything else that just happened, it was nice to see him again, in person. I hadn't gotten to see him in person very often the last few years; part of that happily avoiding the awkwardness awarded to me by my thirteen-year-old self, while also us having our own, vastly different paths in life at the time. But, even with the information that Cynthia had now shared with me, I thought that maybe I should keep my distance from him. To leave him alone, and not bug him like I usually did. To not repeat the mistakes of the past. To make sure that I didn't do that.

I really wished I could have been better about that.

“You do like getting to see him again, right?” Cynthia asked me, noticing that my thoughts had started to spiral again. I felt myself flush right up, stammering out a reply.

"I-I… I'mma… Y-you're n-n-not… wr-wrong about… about that…." I crossed my arms, looking away for a moment so I wouldn't have to face the consequences of admitting it.

Cynthia laughed. "Who knows. Maybe this might help you get closer to him, so you're not always stuttering!"

"I'M NOT STUTTERING!!!" I shouted at her, face red. “I just…. Fumble… and stumble… over my, uh, words………."

"Can you even refer to him by name?" she asked, sounding concerned for a moment.

"Err, um… that is to say…. Uh…." I hung my head. "N-no… n-not r-really."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Um…." I paused to think. Why do I have trouble using his name? ...ah. That's why. I looked down, and I picked at the sleeve of my shirt. I didn't want to say the words.

"Because I don't think I'm worthy of saying it."

There was a solemn moment between the two of us. Putting it into words made it feel so surreal. It made no sense to think that way, or feel that way. After all, I was a human. I was a damn Champion; I've beaten his ass at Pokemon battles more times than it was worth, when I was much younger. So then, why did that not mean something? Why was I venerating a name that anyone could have? Even my own Pokemon had suffered because of those feelings.

Then, as I was contemplating the absurdity of it, Cynthia started laughing, wiping tears from her eyes as she approached me.

"Wh-WHAT?!" I shouted, embarrassed and confused. "I REALLY DO THINK- er, feel… That way… I guess."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for laughing. But just… The way you said it--"

"Ugh! Why did I even come out here with you?! I should have just gone off and trained!" I turned away, crossing my arms angrily. She came up and gave me a consoling hug.

"You really shouldn't feel that way about yourself," she said quietly. "Regardless of whether or not you're in love. It's not good to hate yourself like that. You are worth so much, and I see so much potential in you, both as a trainer and as a person. Don't give up on your dreams, because someone told you to feel this way once."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will myself not to cry.

“W-what if...” It was a struggle to get the words out. “Wh-what.. i-if.... it w-was... m-m-more... se...several... people?”

“Not even then. Their lies are not what's true about you.”

Her words and compassion had finally gotten me to cry. Feelings that I kept pushed down inside myself burst forth. I turned around and pressed my face against her, trying to hide it, but so painfully aware in some part of my brain that it would result in some snot on her coat. It was embarrassing. But she didn't show anything other than kindness as I broke down. She soothed me with comforting words and hushes, gently rubbing my back. When I had finally stopped, spent of the emotions that I had kept bottled up, she recalled her Lucario and guided me back inside. We stopped in the kitchen for a moment; Cynthia suggested that I get something to drink before returning to the library.

Riolu had followed behind us, watching everything with quiet awe. I could feel that he had a query for me, but he couldn't quite formulate it clearly. And even if he had, I wasn't sure that I could answer him.

“Lance,” Cynthia called out sweetly to my Riolu. “Do you understand what just happened here?”

He shook his head, mouth slightly open.

“Ri.”

“Sometimes, when things hurt for us, we try to hide it. But if we keep doing that, then it gets to be too much to hold back. Sometimes you have to let yourself cry. Or scream. Or whatever it is that your emotions are making you feel. Sarah seems to be especially fond of holding them back. I can't say she's particularly good at hiding them, though.”

“Thanks, Cynthia,” I said wryly, face heating up as I took another drink. It was embarrassing having her explain things to my Pokemon, because it also felt like she was trying to wink-wink-nudge-nudge me about how to solve my own emotional issues. I should have been more than capable of doing that myself, without the explanation from someone else. She continued.

“So if you feel like she's ever in need of letting out her feelings, you might need to pull her aside and get her to open up to you. It might not be as easy as it was today. Sometimes, in order to protect herself from her feelings, she might fight you on it. But you'll have to be patient and wait her out, letting her know that you're there for her.”

“Ri...”

Riolu jumped up to hug me, startling me for a moment.

<<I promise to help take care of you!>> His feeling was sincere. The energy behind it, the strength of his feelings, almost made me cry again. I shook my head, trying to focus elsewhere.

When I calmed down, we walked back to the room. I was staring at the door again, mentally preparing myself once more to enter. The calm that I had gained was slowly giving way once more to nervousness. I found myself worrying that it would show all over my face that I had an emotional meltdown. (Cynthia told me it didn't look like I had been crying, but I wasn't convinced.) I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down while it felt like every fiber of my being was racing. My skin felt like ants were crawling all over it. I rubbed one of my arms and took a final deep breath.

Cynthia smiled at me.

“You ready?”

“Y-yeah. I'll be fine.” I picked up my Riolu, hugging him tightly. “I've got this Lance with me to help keep me calm.”

“Ri!” His tail wagged.

“We're back!” Cynthia called out when we entered. I could see Lance's tuft of red hair over by the table that we had been seated at earlier.

“Welcome back!” he replied. We walked over to him, and I could see Pika curled up beside his lap, taking a nap. I instantly felt envious of her. To just so casually....! Lance noticed that I was looking at her, and gave a small laugh.

“I came over to read some of the books, when I noticed that Pika had been left behind. I thought it was odd, but she didn't seem to be bothered by being separated from you. In fact, she curled right up next to me and fell asleep.”

I blushed. My Riolu looked up at me.

<<She felt confident that I could help,>> he said. <<I'm not sure why that is. Miss Cynthia was the one to help you the most! I think she just wanted to eat the cookies without sharing...>>

I frowned when he told me that. I put him down and picked up Pika, sitting down on the couch as I did so. I held her up, away from me, waiting for her to wake up.

Pika gave a sleepy little yawn. She squeaked when she saw me staring at her with an unamused expression. She squirmed, giggling as she tried to get out of my grip. I let go of her with a short sigh, and she fell into my lap. With a carefree attitude, she climbed back up the couch to sit on my shoulder, nuzzling me. She was definitely trying to be trouble.

“Honestly...”

“Is everything okay? It's not often that I don't see her without you.”

I jumped up for a second, forgetting that he was there. I tensed up, and feigned ignorance. “Hm? Oh, uh, Riolu said that she wanted to eat all the cookies and not share.” I gave him a nervous smile. “Some days, y'know?” I had no idea what I was trying to get at, honestly. But I hoped it was enough of an answer to avoid any future questions.

Now that I was no longer giving my Pokemon a condescending stare, knowing what her real motive was, I realized that I had sat next to him. On the same couch. I felt my face heat up and I slowly started to scoot away. Ah, but that's too obvious. Ah, quick! I patted the space next to me, motioning for Riolu to come sit there. He tilted his head at me, but obliged, climbing onto the couch. I scooted over more so he could sit between us; Lance raised an eyebrow at me.

“Ah, I forgot to mention it earlier, but Riolu's really excited to meet you!” I gave him a nervous laugh, and fumbled around for a further explanation. “Though I guess that much was obvious earlier... Ahaha... I thought, um. Well, uh... I don't really know how else to explain it, so just! Accept that he wanted to sit next to you!!”

Smooth.

As if picking up on the cue, Riolu turned towards Lance and wagged his tail. It wasn't disingenuous, as he really was excited to meet his namesake.

<<Hi, I'm Lance! I was named after you!!>> He stood up on the couch and held out his paw to Lance.

Panic coursed through me. My face instantly turned red and I grabbed Riolu. I pulled him away, hand over his mouth while trying to resist the urge to grumble something into his ear.

“What... did he say?” Lance sounded concerned, but I could hear muffled laughter from Cynthia, seated across from us. I had forgotten about her, but now wasn't the time to deal with her.

“O-Oh! Uhhh...ummm... y-y'know... how some.. Pokemon, just... say.... silly....things? To, um, their heroes?” I winced, feeling like the lie wasn't much better. My Pokemon wasn't satisfied with it either, and frowned. I could feel the dissatisfaction, right there, in my arms.

“I can't say that I know... Seeing as I haven't had any Pokemon talk to me in the same way that Riolu seems to with you.”

“Oh!” I let him go, and Riolu crossed his arms, pouting. “That's, um...” That's great! I wanted to say, but I knew that it was a very enviable thing to be able to understand Pokemon clearly. In specific words.

“That's, err, too bad, I think?” I relaxed, relieved that my Riolu hadn't somehow instantly been able to connect to and bond with Lance like he had with me. “I mean, it sucks, when they um, just have a lot of cool things they want to say to you! He thinks you're really cool!”

“And what else does Riolu think,” Cynthia said from the sidelines. I gave her a sharp look, and she stifled her laughter.

“Okay, I don't know what Cynthia thinks is so funny, but he really does look up to you!” I said, finally giving a genuine statement. “He's wanted to meet you for awhile now. And, it's, uh, it is nice to see you outside the league, for once. And not because of work!” I added, remembering that one time I had run into him. He was on a mission with the Pokemon G-Men, and somehow the events of that created this... issue. “I was just, um, surprised earlier to see you anywhere but Kanto or Johto, really. So I'm sorry if it seemed like I was being rude.”

Lance seemed to be confused by what I was saying, and I rolled my eyes and shook my head, frustrated at myself.

“Nevermind. Sorry if that didn't make any sense.”

He gave me a strange look, perhaps because my own words were strange enough without all the context on my end.

“I accept your apology, though I'm not really sure what it's for.”

“Um, 'cuz I thought maybe it seemed like I didn't want you here?”

“It didn't seem that way to me.”

I paused, trying not to overthink on what he just said. “I—oh, um. Good.” I nodded, trying to sound certain of myself.

An awkward silence followed, but it was shortly interrupted by Cynthia.

“Sarah,” she turned to me. “Where is your next badge located?”

Bless her for changing the subject to something less nerve-wracking. Riolu perked up at the mention of the Gym Challenge, and uncrossed his arms. I looked up at nothing in particular, trying to recall where I was told to go next. It was on the west side of Sinnoh, somewhere closer to Twinleaf Town than this side of Mt. Coronet.

“Umm... I think the city's called Canalave?”

“Then you should definitely make sure to train up your Riolu!” Cynthia looked excited, eyes brimming with energy and the teasing forgotten. “The Gym Leader is Byron; he's a steel-type user. Would you like to stay for awhile and train with me?”

I blinked. The offer was extremely honoring, and I couldn't figure out a reason to say no. “Sure, I'd love to! Thank you very much Cynthia.” I looked down towards the little Pokemon beside me. My Riolu jumped up, looking starry-eyed at Cynthia, tail wagging excitedly. “I'm sure Riolu would love it too, if he got to train with your Lucario!”

“Of course. I'd be more than happy for them to train together!”

“Would it be okay if I joined the two of you for your training?” Lance asked suddenly.

I felt myself freeze. I was not expecting that. I looked at him, scrutinizing him. Was there a joke in this? A prank? I was suddenly suspicious, wondering if somehow he and Cynthia were in on something. But if they were planning something like this all along, I couldn't tell; not from him. I quickly looked towards Cynthia, who clasped her hands together, smiling.

“That would be great! Incidentally, how long are you planning to stay in Sinnoh?”

“I've got a few days before I need to head to Blackthorn City.”

“Excellent! Then it's settled. We'll all train together!”

So maybe it wasn't planned. That didn't stop Cynthia from flashing me a devious smile right after. I couldn't help but feel apprehensive that she had something else up her long, black sleeves.

“That reminds me!” She pulled out a poster from under one of the books, and showed it to us. It had a drawing of a starry night sky, with what looked like shooting stars falling across it. Under that was the shrine, and the area around it was decorated.

“We're having a festival in a few days. Because we're away from any of the larger cities, the night sky is really clear. It makes it easy for us to see a meteor shower that happens once a year. It's one of the few things that draws visitors to Celestic Town, giving them revenue. The both of you should go! I'll be busy helping the town run it, so I won't be able to show you guys around, but I think you'll have plenty of fun exploring it without me!”

I felt my insides go hollow, instantly recognizing what Cynthia was doing. She was setting up an opportunity... for... a... I couldn't finish the thought, too frazzled to think it. I could only hope that, between the blanched feeling I was having and the inevitable blush that was to follow, my complexion looked relatively normal. Because I wanted to scream. And run away. And never come back.

Cynthia just gave me that, sweet, innocent, inscrutable smile, now decipherable, as a little nudge forward. She knew exactly what she was doing, and I hated that I wanted to thank her for it, too.

25 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Show Me How You Like It

Kinktober Day 12 ~ kink: pegging

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, smut

word count: 3,850

a/n: this is for @lady-bakuhoe .... oh god, i did so much research for this because ive never tried pegging, but idk....might need to convince someone oneday. also, new season?????? im literally shaking because the first episode was so pure,,,,,but this season,,,,,ohmy

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Do you want to try it?”

Being married was something you thought of as unimaginable. Marriage and you didn’t ever seem to go hand in hand. Not that you didn’t want to get married at some point in your life. You never expected anyone to want you for the rest of your life.

You met Kirishima Eijirou in middle school. As you were best friends with Ashido Mina. You often noticed the shy dark-haired boy always watching on your friend group. You remember going to the U.A. entrance exam and sitting between Mina and Kirishima. The written exam you listened to Mina curse under her breath, and Kirishima shakes as he filled out his sheet.

You remember looking at the field he was then placed in for the practical exam. Sighing when you saw the three of you were then scattered everywhere. You had wished him luck! His cheeks turning pink as he stammered back good luck as you and Mina took off to get dressed. You didn’t know much about him besides that he was shy and very sweet, but you hoped he did well! The next month, the three of you called to the principal's office. You were absolutely astonished to see that Kirishima had gotten in as well! The three of you would be going on to U.A. together!

After ending middle school, you didn’t see him again until orientation. Except, he was different. A good different. His hair stylized, large spikes, and bright red. It was attention-grabbing, demanding even, but his face was still as sweet as ever. Kind and loving.

The first year flew by. Near-death experiences with him formed a bond with him that you never knew would manifest. The three of you--Mina, Kirishima, and you--were close. Buddies, but sometimes, if you were being honest, your eyes would stay on him for a bit too long.

Your heart hammered when he went out for his internship, scared he’d come back scared. Your eyes locking on his flexing muscles, and Mina’s sharp laughter pulling you back to reality. The way he was reckless and shield the class from attacks. Because he was a shield, and he could take it. The way he would catch you in his arms. Those black sleeves were so soft, making you squeak as you were now distracted from your own battle. His toothy grin sucking you in as he made a cute comment about getting there on time. His warm large hands on your body as he placed you down, encouraging you to finish the villain.

There was the night you found yourself knocking on his door. Tears brimming your eyes because you needed to be in someone's arms and Mina was asleep. He took you in without you even asking. Taking you to his bed as he wrapped you in his blanket. His voice apologizing about the state of his room. Apologizing because his blanket wasn’t that soft, and you deserved a softer one. He seemed to panic around his room, setting up a kettle for tea, all while you stared at his blushing face. His cheeks bright enough to match his hair as you stood up from the bed and wrap your arms around him. Your words are weak as you ask him to hold you because that was all you needed. You fell asleep in his arms, your head on his chest as he smiled at you. Lips pressing to your forehead.

It wasn’t until your second year did you do something about your feelings. Your eyes on Kirishima as he was joking around with Kaminari over Bakugou’s fuming head. You felt yourself walking over, no plan in mind. The girls staring at you as you went, muffled screams because they could tell what was coming.

You didn’t ask, only grabbing Kirishima’s wrist and pulling him so that he could look at you. His face went from grinning, to shock, to a blush erupting to cover his entire face as he realized it was you. His hand slamming against the back of his neck as he apologized for something. Not that it was actually needed. His lips were so pretty, and you were sick of him not being yours. Your hands fisted into the shirt of his collar and brought his lips to yours. Your first kiss with Kirishima a slamming force. You clenched your eyes as your lips pressed against his, and you felt him stiffen against you.

His quirk going off and you pull away, lips stinging because of his mishap.

The screams of the girls were loud, Kaminari’s seemed louder, and Bakugou was laughing loudly. Kirishima returns to normal his face turning redder than his hair as he apologizes. Kirishima admits he likes you so much, and you caught him completely off guard.

So with a breathy laugh, you pull him in close once again and seal your lips over his.

The kiss makes you dizzy as he holds you tightly. His finger gripping your waist as if you would crumble between his fingers.

So the two of you began dating. Four years of a very serious and committed relationship had your heart soaring. The two of you were each other first’s for many things. There was never heartbreak between the two of you. Fights were always avoided, the two of you always talking before things escalated. So it was no surprise on the night before your fifth anniversary, the two of you home in your sweats, did he propose.

You cried, screaming at him for proposing when you looked like this. Kirishima cried as he stayed on his knee, a sparkling ring in his fingers.

“That’s not an answer,” Kirishima says, as you cover your face. Sobs refusing to stop as you shake your head overwhelmed. “A-Are you not ready?”

“EI!” You bawl as you stumble to your feet, and throw yourself into his strong arms. “YOU’RE SO DUMB! Yes, I’ll marry you! Every day for the rest of my life if I could!”

The two of you spent the rest of that night in each other's arms. Tears intermingling on your cheeks as you expressed your love for one another.

Your wedding was unimaginable, intimate, and wondrous.

So here the two of you were. Six months into marriage on your day off he asked to try something new. Your guy’s sex life definitely was not vanilla. Both of you sported your favorite kinks and positions, and you incorporated them into bed. Today he asked something that you never thought you’d hear. So without judging you uttered those words.

“I’d like to try pegging, one day. I just--I don’t know--I feel like I need to try it out!” Kirishima says, scratching his cheek as you laugh.

“Well, I think we should definitely try it out! I hear it’ll be super enjoyable for you.” You agree as you stand up. “Do you want to order it online or go to a sex shop?”

Kirishima sighs as you take a seat on his lap, and his hands rest on your hips. It’s muscle memory at this point as you kiss his cheek. “If the store is open, let’s go?”

“It’s only three in the afternoon, Ei. It’s open.” You laugh as you kiss his flaming cheeks. Kirishima sighs as he stands up from the chair, his arms wrapping around your legs as he carries you.

“No need to be mean!” He pouts, and you laugh as you pepper kisses against his lips as he walks towards your home’s entrance. “I just hope we don’t run into fans again…”

“Hey!” You laugh as he slips on your shoes all while holding you still. “It’s their damn fault for thinking we don’t have kinky sex… or sex at all.”

“You didn’t let me smash for a whole year.” Kirishima laughs as he shifts you in his arms so that he’s holding you piggyback style. You laugh as he puts on his own shoes. Your limbs tightening around his body for support as he’s leaning down.

“It’s because you kept telling me to smash, and the first time it happened you pulled out Super Smash Bros.”

“You’re telling me you denied me for a whole year because of that?!”

“EIJIROU, YOU LITERALLY MADE ME PANIC SO HARD! The girls and I went out to buy me lingerie and everything!!”

“You’re telling me this now? Sorry, y/n, sounds fake.” Kirishima laughs as he stands up, and begins your journey out.

Eventually, you slide off his back, and he takes your hand into his own. The two of you talking as you walk down the streets of your city as you enter the sex shop. You went were you remembered where the strap on dildos and harnesses were. Kirishima, however, seems frozen as you pick out a sturdy harness. It was black and rather daunting as you handed it to Kirishima.

“You get to pick the dildo.” You say, looking at the collection they had.

“T...This is a lot more than what I was expecting.” Kirishima gulps as his hands rake through his flat hair. “Is there a one size fits all?”

You snort at you shake your head, “No, baby. Just like there are no two dicks alike, you have to choose. We can always start with the thinnest one?”

“Yeah. That sounds right.”

You grab a thinner dildo and choose the bright red one. “For my Red Daddy Riot?” You ask, a burst of bubbling laughter in your throat as Kirishima tosses his head back.

“That was one time!”

“It still happened, and you liked it!”

The two of you laughed together as you bought the two things. Even taking pictures with the person at the register because he was in love with you two. Besides that, the two of you left back home.

Steps quick to try it out. Breathing picking up as you reached the house.

Kirishima’s lips were over yours as soon as the front door closed behind him. His strong arm keeping you on his hips as his other one held the black bag.

“Wow, you’re impatient.” You moan against his lips, as you kick your shoes off.

“It’s the nerves.” Kirishima sighs as he walks towards the bedroom, your lips gliding against his.

Your fingers tug at his hair without care, his heavy pants making you grin. You knew his body as well as you knew his own, and hair-pulling always lit a fire under him. Your back pressed into the mattress, and your breathing increases as he shifts. His shirt pulling off his head. You pull away and watch as his scarred chest heaves.

You sit up, your lips pressing light kisses against every scar. Every bruise. Every impurity. Your lips were hot against his skin, and Kirishima’s wordless praises stirred you on. Your hands grabbed his shorts. Without him even realizing it, you’ve removed his shorts, and have him on the bed in two-fluid movements.

“Is the lube, fuck, is the lube in the box?” Kirishima asks as your lips suck the crook of his neck.

You nod your head as you remove your own shirt, and his hands squeeze your breasts. You hiss at the sensation, your hips involuntarily moving as well. Kirishima’s gasping breathes stir you on as you feel his arousal pressing into your ass. “Are you ready?” You ask, your nails running up and down his abs. You know he likes the teasing of the sensation, and he nods his head as you pull away.

Kirishima watches you from the bed as you strip off your shorts. You’re wearing a nice set already, a deep maroon bra and matching thong piece. It wasn’t lingerie. But the color of red against your skin made Kirishima moan as you pull out the lube from your box of other goods. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his throat as you open the harness.

Your eyes locked on his own, a smile on your face as you slip your legs through the ties. Fastening them all tight around your thighs as you spin around for Kirishima when it’s done. It’s tight enough that you feel comfortable, but not loose enough for it to fall off ever. Kirishima groans, his body falling onto the bed as you place the dildo into the harness. Why did you look ravishing like that?

Kirishima feels you climbing onto the bed, your hair tickling his cheeks as you lean down. “On your knees, Red Daddy Riot.” You whisper into his ear, your teeth nibbling his earlobe.

“You’re the worst.” Kirishima groans as he does as commanded, slipping his underwear off. Your teeth bite your lower lip as you stare at his ass. This was a new angle, and it was one you very much enjoyed. Hell, if you looked this hot, it was no wonder why Kirishima loved doggy style. You could see the sharp lines of his body, the muscles rippling in his nervousness. His ass looking firm and delicious as you shuffle closer. A sigh leaving your lips as you rejoice in him being the perfect height for you to peg him.

“I’m going to start with my fingers first.” You inform Kirishima who nods his head.

“Be gentle at first?”

“Like a flower.” You promise as you grab the lube, rubbing a very healthy amount on your index finger and middle finger. “Ready?”

His nod is weak but sure of his request.

So with as much precaution as you can, your index finger slides past his tight hole. You ease it in as Kirishima lets out a string of curses, his body trembling as he almost falls onto his forearms. Your tongue pokes out, unsure if it was okay to savor the way he was feeling or to be actually concerned.

“Does this feel good, baby?” You ask as your finger curls.

“Y-Yes, oh my god, princess…” Kirishima pants as he thrusts his hips out towards you.

Your finger makes it all the way in, and Kirishima cries out your name as you begin to move it back out. Your finger now slowly beginning to thrust into him. Your hips shifting in the excitement in the way he shakes. His chest falling to the mattress as you continue thrusting into him. Kirishima’s moans stirring you on as you add another finger.

H makes audible gawking noise. You chuckle as your free hands trail up and down his muscular thigh. Your hand moves up his inner thigh and then grasps his hard cock. Kirishima’s pleasure and pained moans filling the room as you stroke his length. “You’re taking my fingers so good, baby.” You groan against his rippling back muscles. “I hope this feels as good as you look.”

Kirishima spasms as your nails gently tease the walls of his hole. His nearly shrieking gasps turn you on further. Your hand that is moving down his length his fisting him as you go. A sadistic smile on your face as his cries continue. His body trembling. Your fingers moving in a wave-like function as he gasps prettily.

Your cunt is now throbbing at the sight of your husband like this. The dom in you bleeding out as you remove your fingers from his hole. Your other hand releases his twitching cock as you pull back. Kirishima’s pleading gasps making you laugh as you slap his ass.

“Don’t worry,” You say grabbing the lube and placing a large amount onto the dildo. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Kirishima whimpers softly, the noise music to your ears as your lips press against his ass.

“You’re doing so well.” You whisper as you press the head of the red dildo onto his hole, not yet inserting it. Your grin widening as Kirishima rocks his hips, wanting you to thrust in already. “I’m going to put it in now, and I don’t want to hear a single moan, groan, cry, or word.” You warn.

Kirishima’s husky voice lets out a whine, and you shiver at the feeling as you move your hips forward. The head of the dildo sinking into his awaiting hole.

“You didn’t make a sound, I’m impressed. Are you okay, my love?” One of your hands moving up to rub soothing circles on his back as you pressed deeper inside him. Kirishima replied with a weak head nod. Rutting his hips back into you as you entered completely inside him. You wait a moment as his heavy pants let you know he’s still adjusting. Your thighs twitch with your anticipation, and you want nothing more than to thrust into him. The pool of heat within you intensifies as Kirishima drops to his chest.

“I-I’m ready.” He asserts, and you smirk, your hand coming down heavily onto his ass.

“Are you ready to feel how good I am with my cock?” You tease, and Kirishima laughs, his head nodding.

“Show me how you like it.” Kirishima staggers as your hips roll into his ass.

A shriek of pleasure leaves his lips as you begin pushing your hips against his ass. Your pace a lot faster than it probably should have been. You began to buck your hips against him, admiring in the way Kirishima moans loudly. His hips moving to meet yours. You grinned as you landed another hard smack on his ass, expecting a raw noise in response. Your face lits up when your husband sinfully moans at the action, his jaw-dropping as he pants. Your fingers continue running across his soft skin as you watched it redden under your touch. Your handprint was evident in its shape.

“Please, baby, more!” Kirishima gasps as you shift your hips slightly. His back arching as he clutches the fabric between his fingers. You laugh, your head leaning to press a kiss against his spine.

“Kami, you look so damn pretty when you’re crying for me.” You moan, uncaring about your sloppy thrusts for the moment. The way Kirishima is so responsive to your actions is stirring you on. You’re positive that you’ll be coming as soon as he touches you later. You grip his hips, angling your body so that you’re thrusting into him at a better angle. Trying to desperately find that angle that will make his eyes roll to the back of his head. To find the angle that will make him scream and drool. The loud and raw ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips, lets you know you found his prostate. You continue in at that angle, the same power and depth as the rawness of his voice send chills down your spine.

Your body feels like it’s on fire as you feel so much power. Your husband’s continuous whimpering stirring you on. Your right-hand leaves his waist, moving to grasp his still rock hard cock in your grasp. “Oh, poor baby,” You coo. “Does your cock need to come?” You pant, the action of your thrusting hips making you sweat.

“Yes, fuck, baby yes!” Kirishima shouts, his face burying into the mattress as you massage his length up and down. Your hips are relentless against his ass as you continue fucking him. Your laughs nearly inaudible at the sight of him still fucking himself against you.

“What if I don’t want you to come yet.” You pout, your fingers leaving his length, your hips stilling.

“Please let me come, baby, please!” Kirishima pants his hips unapologetic as he continues pushing against the strap-on. You giggle, taking his cock back in your hand. Your arousal slicking against your thighs as you continue.

You’re intent on getting him to come within seconds, and it shows. Your hips are thrusting harder and faster than you’ve gone yet. Your hand fisting along his length, his leaking precum covering your hand. Kirishima’s spluttering shouts fueling your inner lust. His body convulses under your manipulation.

Sinfully loud mewls and moans leave his lips, and you feel his cock spasm. Your hips finding it difficult to go as fast as you had been going as his hole tightens around the dildo.

“Y/N, FUCK!”

Your hand covered instantly in his hot sticky seed. Your lips in a wide grin as your hand continues stroking his length. His fluids continuing to come out in his heavy load. Your thrusting stops, and with a sigh, you pull away. Falling down on your ass as Kirishima collapses. His eyes locked on you as you lick his come off your hands.

“You’re super hot like that.” You inform Kirishima as you shift towards his heaving body to press a kiss to his lips. “I didn’t think you would be so into it.”

You slide off the bed, taking off the harness and letting it fall to the ground as you groan. You remove your panties and show Kirishima just how fucking wet they were. “Just in case you weren’t sure how turned on I was.”

You take off your bra as you crawl back onto the bed, Kirishima turning onto his back as you straddle his torso.

“You still need to come, huh?” Kirishima states. A low hiss escaping his mouth at feeling your throbbing wet cunt against his hips.

“Yeah, I do.” You sigh your fingers teasing your breasts as your husband leans up. His lips pressing against the underside of your breasts. Your head drops back as you feel content. “Are you gonna help me out, or am I going to be forced to fuck you by myself?”

You shriek as you’re on your back, looking up at Kirishima who is trailing his heavy and hot hands down your figure. You moan at the feeling of his teeth biting against your neck. His sharp teeth sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll know how I felt that entire time,” Kirishima promises, his finger entering your aching core.

“Give it to me, Red Daddy Riot.”

“...I’ll leave.”

“No! You know that I’m only tea--OHMYGOD!”

Kirishima has his once again hard cock slamming into your throbbing pussy. His voice snarling at the sensation as his hands bring your legs over his shoulders. “Now shut up, and let daddy show you how to fuck properly.”

You can’t even tease him as he begins jackhammering into you. Your head slamming into the mattress as a shriek rips through your throat.

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima imagine #kirishima scenario #kirishima smut #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha kirishima #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha kirishima #burnedbyshoto does kinktober #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober

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antiyourwokehomophobia2 · 3 years

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You said we can ask you questions so here goes( hope they arent invasive)

-at what age did u realise u were lesbian?was it easy/hard to accept?

-how was your coming out like? How did your family and friends react?

-were you ever/are you religious?do u believe one can balance between being homosexual and religious?

- were you always masc or is it something that came with accepting your sexuality?

-do you call yourself a stud?

- how hard/easy has it been being an out and proud black lesbian?

- thoughts on the stigma against stud4stud/butch4butch lesbians

-were you ever a TRA/libfem? If yes, what made you peak?

-ive had ppl talk about how masc lesbians being touch-me-nots is problematic/toxic and how its more about upholding a "status" than it is about preference. What do you make of that?

Not invasive at all! I'm happy to answer and thank you for asking :).

- I realized I was a lesbian at age 12 when I developed a HUGE crush on my gorgeous English teacher. I also got a small crush on a girl in one of my classes. I didn't grow up around much homophobia so it wasn't hard for me to accept that I was gay but what was hard was the absolute intensity of my feelings towards my teacher. I used to pray to god to have my feelings for her taken away because they were just so intense and I didn't know how to handle them (she was my teacher so I clearly wasn't going to ask her out. There was literally no outlet for what I was feeling so I kept it bottled.). My parents never brought up gay people in any positive or negative way and the kids I grew up around didn't really either. So me being gay wasn't something I beat myself up over. Once I accepted that I wasn't an overly invested straight ally, the road to acceptance was a peace of cake tbh.

-My coming out was... Well. I first started coming out to my friends when I was 13 and they were accepting of it. It honestly wasn't that interesting to tell you the truth 😅. All the peers that I gave a shit about never gave me shit for being gay. I never lost a friend for being gay. Coming out to my parents took me until I was 16 and the reason for that is because I genuinely didn't know how they'd react. Like I said, they never said anything about gay people point blank period. However, I was kind of forced to come out one particular night because my heart had been fucking shattered by a girl I was strongly crushing on at the time. I was pacing up and down my house, my best friend wasn't answering me, I could hear my dad's TV playing, it was late, I was tired, I couldn't sleep, I had school tomorrow, I was freaking out, I was devastated... I wanted to be comforted so I went to my father, threw my head into his arm and started telling him how my heart felt broken. He asked me if I had a boyfriend and when I said "nope" there was some silence and he was like "it's okay, I've known for a long time". I never actually said the words "gay" or "lesbian" during my coming out but I guess I didn't need to. The next morning, my father asked if it was okay if he could go tell my mom and I said yes. Long story short, my mom was even less surprised than my dad and she's the more progressive of the two so it wasn't really an issue (though she did tell me to keep an open mind in terms of liking men 😅 she seems to think I'm bisexual which is whatever because she never bothers me about it).

-Hmm. I don't like to completely cut out religion from my life. My father was extremely religious and now that he's gone, I feel it's disrespectful for me to say God doesn't exist. Like, "dad, you spent practically your whole life believing wholeheartedly in God but guess what! It was a waste and the thing you dedicated your life is something I think is a fairytale!" that doesn't sit right with me at all. I've been baptized and I used to go to church when I was younger. I think that there's no reason to shake my head at the possibility of a God. In terms of being gay and believing in God, I once watched a video by a devout Christian gay man who went through all the homophobic stuff Christians love to quote from the bible and gave the actual meaning behind them. I, personally, do not think that God is homophobic. I think that God's love is not something we have the capacity to understand. So, I, personally, think Christian gay people are perfectly fine and are already balanced. Here's to hoping that they stay away from homophobic churches!

-No, I wasn't always masc. As a child I was a huge girly girl. Like, legit, I wasn't a tomboy in the slightest lmao. I'm not sure when I started being masc. But what I do know is that I've grown far more masc over the years. I used to not want to dress too manly (no tuxedo's and no clothes from the men's section and no boxers) but nowadays I love all of those things and that's genuinely what I want in my wardrobe so I have no problem going into the men's section for my clothes.

-No, I don't call myself a stud. Love those guys though. The label I feel that's most accurate for me is masc.

-Um, I'm not sure how to answer this since I don't have experience being any other kind of lesbian. I guess it's just kind of tiring. I'm black, female, and homosexual. That's a LOT of different topics to give my attention to. The hardest part of being a black lesbian is knowing who to give my camaraderie to. Do I give it to black women? Black women AND black men? Lesbians? Only black lesbians? The lgb community as a whole? It's just a lot to think about. I will say, though, I think that it's a lot harder to be a masc black lesbian than a white one. Black women are already perceived as manly just based off of our skin color. So for me to willingly present masc can often be... A non-pretty picture in the eyes of society and I'm hyper-aware of that which is why I often have trouble going all out with the wardrobe I truly desire. That's my biggest challenge navigating the world as the black lesbian that I am. On a more positive note though, it's great being a black lesbian because I can have an opinion on everything and nobody can tell me I'm being racist/homophobic/sexist or stepping outside of my lane 😂. I'm on a three-lane road motherfucker and I'm not afraid to use all of them.

-my thoughts are that you should leave people alone. I will say though, I once read something that was like "if you call yourself a femme but the idea of being with a butch disgusts you, you're not a femme, you're just a feminine lesbian" and that rang true to me so it feels hypothetical (and nonsensical) if the reverse wasn't true as well. If a butch/stud shits on femmes and assumes they can't be as feminine as they are and ACTUALLY gay then I do have a problem. Butches and femmes have a history that's damn near inseparable from each other so for a butch to shit on femmes... I'd argue that they're probably not butch but instead just masculine lesbians. However, I don't care if two butches or studs want to date lmao. All the power to them, I hope they're happy.

-I definitely used to support trans rights more than I do now. I would correct people who misgendered others. I thought trans women were women. I was in support of bathroom laws. I never made posts about it, but I very much did believe it. Magdalen berns made me peak. I started realizing that gender makes no sense. I did some research and came to the conclusions I hold today. Even when I want to go back to my ignorance, I can't because I've seen too much by now.

-I honestly don't know. I think that some masc lesbians don't want to be put in that "feminine" position of being touched by their partner. It could stem from upholding a status but at the end of the day, sexual boundaries are sexual boundaries. What are you gonna do? Force your touch on to them? Yikes. Leave them be. If you're upset about your partner not wanting to be touched by you then get a new one. Clearly you're not sexually happy so leave. I don't think it's necessarily toxic unless they think there's something inherently demeaning in being touched by their partner or they do want to be touched but won't allow themselves due to trauma or feeling like there's a certain persona they must uplift. Other than that though, I don't see the issue.

Thanks for the questions, buddy ❤️

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healthtech102 · 4 years

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After Hours Medical Advice

As you know, and certain have in mind every day, nursing is a career that carries a huge amount of duty. Be sure to guard your self, especially when asked for advice in an informal setting.

No, Uncle Bob has cornered you within the hallway after Christmas dinner. In trying back, I realize that not as soon as during this experience did anyone INVITE me into a discussion of what could be best for my mother.

She spent two nights in the hospital beneath remark, with IV hydration. Now, admittedly, she has varying levels of dementia even on a good day, but she reached the point of getting severe hallucinations and paranoia.

Having a whole remedy group looking out for you and preparing a discharge plan that is going to set you up for achievement. 90 days of therapy allows for the affected person to work via many of the above mentioned considerations and we treat it using an American Society of Addiction Medicine dimensional assessment.

The general size of keep in remedy that is really helpful is often ninety days. Health safety and prevention is the key to staying healthy for the long haul. From easy blood checks and vaccines now to mammograms and colonoscopies later, your doctor might help you turn into the healthiest model of you.

Although it might appear to be a problem now, one hour in a physician’s workplace now can add years of health to your life. When we have well being questions and considerations, it’s easy to show to good ol’ WebMD for answers. And even though the Internet can be a great well being useful resource, reading about your health points online can usually lead to pointless fear and fear. Remember, you might be unique and deserve a customized evaluation.

So instead of browsing the web for a generic, or even worse, incorrect answer, talk to a doctor in particular person to get the total image—and to cease dropping sleep over your questions (see reason number 5!). While I’ll be the primary to confess that a trip to the gynecologist’s workplace isn’t my favourite way to spend a day, annual pelvic exams are a important a part of any girl’s preventative health care.

Will we have to battle the battle of keyword voids at a grassroots degree, wrangling with the asymmetry of passion by tapping folks to search out these voids and create counter-content material? Do we need to arrange counter-GoFundMe campaigns to pay for ad campaigns that promote real science?

Do not rely on a form’s basic remark that “risks of leaving were discussed with the patient,” he says. That doesn't negate the value of those documents, however they should not be the sum complete of the hospital’s evidence displaying efforts to provide care.

First, the hospital must reconcile any excellent diagnostics, as a result of if any checks had been ordered, the hospital is still liable for checking the results to make certain nothing critical was identified, he says.

Despite our protests, she saved making an attempt to pull out the IV fluid line from her arm and the gizmo , and tugged at her gown. The paper-thin pores and skin on her arms was black and blue from a number of blood attracts. Successful treatment begins with an correct diagnosis, and our experts take the time to get it right.

A team of specialists will listen to your needs and evaluate your condition from each angle to make the very best plan for you. Every year, more than one million individuals come to Mayo Clinic for care.

If witnessed by RN, have them doc the time the patient left in addition to the standing of their IV. If an IV is still in place, first try to contact the affected person after which their emergency contact.

From all the information you've gathered from the Internet and your research, it's time for you to go to your physician with this data and get to know the details. It is important to decide on doctors with whom you're feeling snug.

The level of questioning I got in response to my advice was almost insulting at times. In my head, I advised these callers, “If you trusted me sufficient to name me together with your ailment, why aren’t you trusting my opinion?

Our highly specialized experts are deeply skilled in treating rare and complex circumstances. I actually have been put in this identical position so many times, that I lastly, like you, needed to tell them to contact their supplier or go to the ER/Urgent Care.

I owned a small household follow clinic and some would actually present up there quite than going to their PCP or ER. I do perceive how onerous it is to tell them to go to their PCP’s, but I believe that is the proper motion. We love our family and pals and do not need to see them ill or in ache, however we additionally want them to obtain goal care.

I actually have been practicing as a Nurse and APP for over 15 years now and have found, for me, robust boundaries come with time. You don’t have a look at them as patients, but as whomever they are to you.

YOUR ability to want them to be OK and not be as goal as you'd be with a affected person. Another disagreeable facet effect of trying to assist was the pushback I received.

doctor certification, from the Membership of the Royal College of General Practitioners, and checked performance towards historic outcomes from an independent 2015 examine that evaluated several symptom checkers. symptom checker seems as a chatbot that users can work together with by way of an app or web site. When the consumer varieties out their primary symptoms as a quick sentence or phrase, the symptom checker asks questions about possible related signs.

According to the NIH, 30-40% of Americans report having occasional symptoms of insomnia and 10-15% report persistent issue sleeping—with ladies representing nearly all of those affected.

While you could assume that a poor night’s sleep simply means you’ll need an extra cup of espresso in the morning, chronic sleep problems can actually improve the lengthy-time period threat of hypertension, melancholy, and diabetes. treatment medical disclaimer A physician’s visit can help identify attainable underlying causes for your restless nights—and get you the help you should truly get some zzzs.

Does your family have a history of diabetes, excessive cholesterol, heart disease, cancer, or another significant illness? If so, you could be at risk for these conditions, too—and there are likely issues you can do to decrease that danger. A doctor may help you find out and work with you to determine which screening exams you want.

"Casual" could exit the window, if the individual you advise feels you have triggered them harm; together with your recommendation or deeds. State legal guidelines differ greatly and litigation can truly change the legal guidelines as time passes. So as a nursing skilled, even if your action or advice was justifiable, there isn't a safety from being sued . You might prevail and be discovered "not liable" if sued, but by then you'll have gone by way of plenty of wasted time and pointless stress.

They might help detect vaginal infections, together with sexually transmitted ailments , and should often embody a PAP smear for cervical cancer screening. Although you might have heard about some current adjustments to screening recommendations, the U.S. Preventative Services Task Force nonetheless wants women between the ages of 21 to 65 to get a Papanicolaou test (a.k.a. PAP smear) a minimum of each three years (or more incessantly when you’ve ever had abnormal results).

The lawsuit claimed that Dr M had failed to recognize the patient’s skull fracture and improperly released him when he was intoxicated, and that the delay in treating the fracture was attributable for approximately half of the affected person’s neurological deficits. Later that day, a hospital radiologist learn the affected person’s x-ray and famous a markedly depressed left parietal cranium fracture.

Or will the tech platforms where that is occuring start to grasp that giving legitimacy to health misinformation by way of high search and social rankings is profoundly dangerous? Getting excessive-quality, fact-based well being information shouldn’t be dependent on the result of SEO video games, or on who has extra assets for pay-to-play content promotion. few hours of a newborn’s life, medical doctors administer a vitamin K shot.

This is as a result of infants are born with out sufficient of the vitamin, and the child wants a boost to prevent any potential bleeding. The documentation also should detail the discussion with the affected person regarding potential risks from leaving AMA, Merkrebs says.

The reasons for refusing additionally may be wide-ranging, every little thing from worries about the price to concern about ache or dying, or dislike of being touched, photographs, surgical procedure, or drugs. Once a affected person is examined beyond triage and exams are ordered, a departure at that time could be classified as left without completing remedy , Klauer notes.

Patients leaving the emergency room too soon “are intentionally putting themselves at extra danger for morbidity and even mortality,” Polevoi stated — a degree echoed by other physicians. Ko stated the column will proceed as long as individuals want to study totally different health subjects. Connect with a medical skilled everytime you need one, 24/7, for customized recommendation and prescription, if deemed necessary.

At the end, the symptom checker identifies possible causes and recommends a course of action, similar to reserving a video consultation with a human physician or going to a hospital. The patient and his family consulted with a plaintiff’s attorney who agreed to take the case. Dr M was shocked to find out that he was being sued for medical malpractice.

Within each of these kinds of AMA, there may be further breakdowns when it comes to why the person is leaving, he notes. The affected person might not want any care of any type, or the refusal could also be extra limited — refusing the particular kind of care being provided, as an example, but still willing to be handled.

That's to not say all of the internet is unhealthy, it is okay to make use of Google for health questions when you use a credible supply and if it prompts you to go to your doctor should you could have considerations. Without limiting the generality of the foregoing, the Author makes no representations or warranties with respect to any Information offered or offered within or via the Site relating to treatment of medical circumstances, motion, or software of treatment.

“When sufferers convey themselves into the ED, they are seen in about 5 minutes by a qualified registered nurse and, on common, are seen by a supplier within 30 minutes of arrival,” Thomas mentioned in a press release.

From 2012 to 2017, the variety of emergency room encounters in Fresno County elevated by nearly ninety five,000, or 37%. At Fresno’s Community Regional Medical Center, about 9% of ER encounters ended with a patient leaving too quickly, greater than 3 times the statewide fee.

If no success, contact the police non-emergently to aid in finding the affected person. In this situation, the patient has not but interacted with a doctor. There isn't much to do here as long as the provider by no means met the patient, if so, they might be in a different category.

There are no known instances the place the ED, or ED Providers, have been sued and located to be at fault or responsible for an end result. We recognized people ages with International Classification of Diseases, 9thRevision prognosis codes for infective endocarditis within the National Inpatient Sample, a representative pattern of United States hospitalizations from January 2010 to September 2015.

We plotted unadjusted quarter-year developments for AMA discharges and used multivariable logistic regression to establish elements associated with AMA discharge among IE hospitalizations, evaluating IDU-IE to non-IDU-IE.

The police were notified, and the patient was taken from jail back to the hospital. At the hospital, he was monitored for a number of hours and then taken to surgical procedure where the depressed fracture fragments have been elevated. However, Mr G ended up suffering a brain injury from the fracture which affected his cognitive talents, and which prevented him from with the ability to hold down a job. The police knowledgeable Dr M that the patient, a 24-yr old named Mr G, had been the perpetrator of an assault and in the process was hit within the head with a blunt object by a bystander.

The police had been called, and found him mendacity on the street, clearly intoxicated and with a bloodied head. They took him to the ED, however Mr G was uncooperative and initially refused any treatment. When most individuals hear these words, they're whispered by an overcoated stranger on the bus or a counterfeit Prada peddler gesturing towards the trunk of a car.

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yeoldontknow · 4 years

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15 questions tag game

tagged by @chillingtae to do this fun game. thank you so much bright angel!! <3 i dont think ive ever seen questions like these around here so this is fun <3

placing this under a cut because it is long !

1. It’s your birthday! What did you ask for and did you receive it?

uhm...im an old bean, and ive found that over time ive stopped asking for things necessarily and request more experiences. time spent with people matters more to me than items - i can pretty much buy things on my own if i want them. if im asking for anything id ask for money to put towards bills or savings or trips. this year i asked my parents for some money to convert to yen before i went to japan, which they gave me. of my friends, i asked if we could go for dinner and drinks which was a lovely evening <3

2. What was the last song or album you listened to?

song = Kvrt in Space by Fraunhofer Diffraction

album = 1 Billion Views by EXO-SC

3. What is your go to snack when you’re hungry or bored?

depends on my energy level. usually chips and veggies with hummus because i dont have to make anything. my ultimate snack is popcorn so i have to be careful about how often i have it because i could eat an entire trucks worth and not feel the least bit guilty.

4. What is your morning routine?

check emails. text parents. catch up on group chats. roll out of bed and wash up. feed the cat. start the day!

5. What mythical/cryptic creature would you be?

god probably some bog witch or oracle on a mountain

6. How do you interact with someone that you don’t like?

i dont. if they are interacting with me i will be polite but the conversation will be curt and brief.

7. How do you define a toxic person?

=> habits of dishonesty, manipulation, gaslighting, deflection of blame for wrong doings => reacting to criticism or conflict rather than responding => engaging or meddling or perpetuating drama simply for the attention, thrill/endorphins of it => someone who drains your energy in their company rather than heals it => inability to admit they were wrong or let situations go

8. Have you ever been to a concert or fan meet type of event? If not, would you want to?

ive been to a significant amount of concerts in my life. i love love love concert going and, before quarantine, i would list this activity as one of my favorite hobbies. while not a fan meet event, ive wound up meeting and becoming acquainted with a number of musicians - either by running into them on the street, working with them in some capacity, waiting in the queue before doors, waiting after a show, etc. i once was able to attend an after party of a show with @queenoftheimpala because i knew what a tubulum was after a band member jokingly posted about it on twitter and we started talking. one of my all time favourite bands provides ticket packages which are both a ticket to the show and an earlier event in which there are panels with therapists discussing the importance of mental health etc etc.

regarding kpop, i have not attended a fanmeet and tbh i dont think i would. the set up feels unnatural, and it is not that i want to spend hours talking with an artist but it feels very rushed and not entirely personal enough for me to express what id truly want to say. this is just my opinion. i know many fans have attended these events and have had a wonderful time. i just dont think this would suit my energy as im quite introverted and feeling rushed would make me anxious.

9. Do you believe in astrology? Why or why not?

oh for sure i do. when you research charts, planets, alignments, etc etc it can be quite revealing when it comes to personality traits, needs, expectations. while i dont believe it accounts for every single thing about a person (upbringing and societal/cultural influence matter too) it can account for the fundamentals. astrology, tarot, and light work have seen me through some extremely difficult situations in my life and reading tarot/charts has helped me understand why i feel what i feel on certain days.

10. If you had only one sense (hearing, touch, sight, etc.), what would you want?

i rely so heavily on all my senses that i just...dont even know how to pick this. i think id go with touch. taste is a sense omg you mean i cant taste food anymore? oh god. ok uh yeah im still gonna go with touch. touch helps you feel the connection with other people - hugs, hand holding. sounds have waves which you can feel on the body. the earth has texture. touch is how the body relates spatially to other and to itself so yeah i would go with touch.

11. Who is your favourite celebrity or idol?

non kpop = prince, david bowie, chris corner, maynard james keenan....mostly its women. rihanna or sabrina claudio or rosalia. women in the root of their power and sensuality. they are unforgiving in their bodied expressions and i respect them so much. they are unforgiving in their femininity.

kpop = chanyeol lmao like....unfailingly so

12. If you could talk to your favourite celebrity(s) for a limited time, what would you tell them?

for the non kpop celebrities = im usually just really supportive of women in the entertainment/arts industries so id love to just hear their stories. in this instance i dont think me saying anything is beneficial, more that its important we listen to their journies and their path to success. they have a lot to teach us. chris corner ive met several times and have had many amazing conversations with so in this instance, id just ask if hes doing well, how california is, how his dogs are, give him the update on my tattoo plans etc. for maynard...idk just cry because hes the celebrity ive loved since i was like 4 years old.

kpop = if i had the chance to talk to chanyeol i think like...id just like to talk about his music, thank him for having women as his video editors/videographers, ask his genre tastes, talk about the sheer amount of retro/nostalgia modes on the recent sc album. maybe talk about astronomy. thank him for his power and remind him to eat and that he doesnt need to master everything. achieving perfection is a pursuit of pain, all he has to achieve is happiness within himself. again, remind him to eat.

13. I’m taking you out on a date and it’s your choice. Where are we going?

oooo lets go to an arcade and for dinner. theres some really great barcades in lower manhattan and on LES we can get some amazing dumplings for really cheap and just have a night of talking, playing games, drinking. then maybe walk along the river before we catch the trains home

14. Do you like sweet or savory foods?

my sweet tooth has a limit so while i do like sweet im more into savory

15. Do you have any band merchandise or merchandise from any of your favourite artists? If so, what?

i have a lot of band tees, signed posters, albums of theirs theyve signed for me. i have some drum sticks given to me by a few bands, signed set lists. one band gave me a turntable slip cover. i have a few first press or numbered records that ive framed. i have some lightsticks from when i attended some kpop shows. ive got lots of stuff!

tagging: @yehet-me-up @queenoftheimpala @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @j-pping @yoonia @jamaisjoons @ditzymax @jiminiethot @blackberrykai @hkynm @ninibears-erigom @readyplayerhobi @imdifferentshadesofpurple @red-exo and anyone else who wants to do this. as always please only do so if youre comfortable <3

#about me #15 questions tag

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phinnsyreads · 4 years

Audio

Item #: SCP-4966

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-4966 is to be kept within a modified humanoid containment cell sized appropriately for a domestic cat to move freely. This cell is to be furnished with several pieces of cushioned furniture. Recreational objects such as climbing towers, plush toys, and small plastic objects have also been provided. SCP-4966 is to be socialized with tri-weekly by on-site researchers. Tests involving SCP-4966 are to be approved by Dr. Bannock. Personnel wishing to provide SCP-4966 with additional recreational objects are to purchase them using their own funds.

Description: SCP-4966 is an animate quadrupedal creature constructed of gray fabric. All attempts to pierce or damage this fabric have failed. X-rays and other examinations of SCP-4966 have shown a lack of any internal structures. SCP-4966’s body is completely devoid of markings or orifices, with the exception of two black eyes and a woven mouth. Vocalizations made by SCP-4966 are similar to that of a young feline. SCP-4966 is highly social and will become anxious and withdrawn if not socialized with on a normal basis. SCP-4966 has a tendency to imitate the actions of other entities it interacts with. SCP-4966 shows no apparent need to eat, drink, or breathe, although it will imitate these actions if another entity is doing the same.

When presented with the corpse of an organism, SCP-4966 will extend its mouth through unknown means and consume the corpse in its entirety, causing its body to bulge and stretch around the added mass. All attempts to measure the tensile strength of SCP-4966 while in this state have failed, as SCP-4966’s skin will visibly remain the same density throughout this process. No limit has been found to the degree that SCP-4966 is able to distend, with it having completely enveloped the corpse of an adult blue whale (Balaenoptera musculus) during testing.

Once a corpse is fully enveloped, SCP-4966’s body will slowly return to its normal size. During this deflation, SCP-4966 will experience alterations in its morphology consistent with the physical characteristics of the organism it consumed. The most common alteration is the addition and modification of limbs, although other alterations such as changes in SCP-4966’s proportions and vocalizations have been recorded. The only physical traits of SCP-4966 that are unable to be altered are its existing facial features and gray coloration. Alterations will remain for approximately 4 hours after consumption, after which SCP-4966 will regurgitate biological waste consistent with the composition of the consumed organism.

Addendum: Included below are several excerpts from the SCP-4966 experiment log for the purpose of further understanding SCP-4966’s transformation abilities.

Introduced Corpse: An adult male timber rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus).

Corpse Integrity: Shows initial signs of decomposition.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966’s torso extended approximately 150 cm more in length than previous measurements, with its abdomen ending in a developed tail and rattle. SCP-4966 used this additional length during testing to wrap around and climb the limbs of researchers but was not wrapped tightly enough to inhibit blood flow. The developed rattle was used by SCP-4966 almost constantly during its transformation, often shaking it while interacting with researchers.

Regurgitated Matter: A mass of decomposing keratin and liquified organic matter.

---

Introduced Corpse: An adult female lionfish (Pterois miles).

Corpse Integrity: Shows signs of advanced decomposition. The interior of the corpse is almost completely putrefied. Despite the corpse’s venomous spines, SCP-4966 was able to consume it without issue.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966 developed a pair of pectoral fins, an anal fin, and a large dorsal fin constructed of several long spines. These fins were observed impeding SCP-4966’s movement, specifically limiting its vertical mobility. Chemical analysis of the spines tested positively for lionfish venom. As such, no further interaction with SCP-4966 was conducted prior to regurgitation.

Regurgitated Matter: Broken spines and liquified organic matter.

---

Introduced Corpse: A pile of deceased sycamore maple (Acer pseudoplatanus) leaves.

Corpse Integrity: Slightly degraded.

Developed Alterations: No observed alterations. SCP-4966 consumed a single leaf before immediately regurgitating it. SCP-4966 spent the remainder of the test playing within the pile of leaves, repeatedly jumping into it from provided furniture. Requests to provide SCP-4966 with additional plant matter for recreational purposes are currently pending.

Regurgitated Matter: A slightly damaged leaf.

---

Introduced Corpse: A female adult ostrich (Struthio camelus).

Corpse Integrity: Severely damaged. The corpse was presented to SCP-4966 in several pieces, with the left leg and head of the corpse not present.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966’s legs extended approximately 1.3 meters and developed two large toes similar to that of an ostrich.1 SCP-4966’s head extended approximately 1.2 meters upwards, forming a large curved neck. A pair of featherless wings developed on the sides of SCP-4966’s torso. On several occasions, SCP-4966 attempted to take flight using these wings, with SCP-4966 eventually jumping off of provided furniture in an attempt to glide. Despite ostriches' normally territorial nature, SCP-4966 remained sociable during its transformation.

Regurgitated Matter: Several shattered portions of bone and a large amount of liquified organic matter.

---

Introduced Corpse: The head of a male adult Eastern moose (Alces alces americana).

Corpse Integrity: Corpse is taxidermied, and is well preserved.

Developed Alterations: SCP-4966 developed large antlers approximately 1.4 meters across. Due to the size of these antlers relative to SCP-4966’s head, its sense of balance and mobility was severely hindered. Additionally, SCP-4966 developed large ears that lacked structural support and were unable to keep themselves upright. Auditory cognition tests determined that the ears did not improve SCP-4966’s hearing ability.

Regurgitated Matter: A large compact mass of metal slag, wood pulp, and shattered bone.

---

Introduced Corpse: A pair of ████ brand genuine leather boots.

Corpse Integrity: Recently purchased and unworn.

Developed Alterations: No observed alterations. SCP-4966 approached the boots before lightly biting the toe of the left boot. After examining the right boot in a similar fashion, SCP-4966 knocked over the right boot and climbed inside of it, falling asleep shortly afterward.

Regurgitated Matter: None.

---

Remainder of Experiment Log requires Level 4/4966 security clearance.

Please input security credentials. . Credentials approved.

Introduced Corpse: The corpse of D-01763, who was an upholsterer prior to her incarceration.

Corpse Integrity: Well preserved.

Developed Alterations: No physical alterations were observed. Upon consumption, SCP-4966 emitted several strained vocalizations before speaking in slightly incoherent English. SCP-4966 began commenting on the construction of its furniture, claiming that its provided bedding material was far below standard requirements for domestic pets. It has since been determined that rather than inheriting physical alterations, SCP-4966 is able to access the memories of a deceased human by consuming them. In addition, SCP-4966 gains the ability to speak in a high pitch, although its sentence complexity is comparable to that of a young child. Speech is lost upon regurgitation, but the memories of a consumed individual are retained.

Regurgitated Matter: Shattered bone and liquified organic matter.

Following this discovery, a raid on Site-17 was conducted by operatives of GoI-003 (“Chaos Insurgency”) where operatives attempted to gain access to SCP-4966’s chamber among other anomalous objects. Once the raid was repelled, a damaged Insurgency document was discovered among the corpses that gave detailed information regarding several anomalous objects, including SCP-4966. SCP-4966 was provided with the corpses of several GoI-003 members in the hopes of discovering how this information was acquired. A transcript of the interview conducted with SCP-4966 has been provided below.

Interviewed: SCP-4966

Interviewer: Dr. Randall Bannock

Additional Information: Due to a lack of relevant information, 2 hours and 14 minutes of the interview have been excluded. For a full transcript of the interview, see Document-4966-IV.

Dr. Bannock: SCP-4966, can we please get back to the subject at hand.

SCP-4966: I want a munchy.

Dr. Bannock: You’ve already been given seven biscuits. You’ll get some after we’ve finished the interview.

SCP-4966: No, I want a munchy now.

Dr. Bannock: (Holding his head in his hands) SCP-4966, this would go much smoother if you simply cooperated.

SCP-4966: I want a better bed too. The one you guys have is lumpy. Make a bed out of munchies so I can eat it when I get hungry.

Dr. Bannock: SCP-4966, if you answer the question, I’ll give you another biscuit.

SCP-4966: (Pauses) If I get the good munchies this time.

Dr. Bannock: How did the Insurgency know where you were?

SCP-4966: The red shooty people? They found the room with my name on it.

Dr. Bannock: (Sigh) How did they know that was your item number?

SCP-4966: I was in the room, so the room had my name. They made lots of banging on the door and noisy noises. I was sleeping but it was too loud and the bed was lumpy.

Dr. Bannock: Your new bed is coming soon. Ho-

SCP-4966: How soon?

Dr. Bannock: Tomorrow. How did they know where the building was?

SCP-4966: Munchy.

(SCP-4966 is given a biscuit. The biscuit is consumed by SCP-4966 without chewing. No matter is regurgitated.)

SCP-4966: The pat people who visit me. They tell the red people stuff through the head parts.

Dr. Bannock: (Pauses) The head p- never mind. Can you be more specific? Who are the pat people?

SCP-4966: Um, lots of people give me pats. The white coat woman who gives me the toys is nice, I like her. She gave me the ball with the bell in it and it makes a ringy noise. The orange person that gives me lots of pats, but its face keeps being different between pat times. It gives me pats though so it’s a good orange. Um, you give me munchies and smell like a cake and that’s a good munchy. Also, you said you were gonna get me a good bed, bu-

Dr. Bannock: Which one of the pat people told the red people about you?

SCP-4966: Munchy

Dr. Bannock: I’ll give you a biscuit if you tell me.

SCP-4966: But I want munchy now.

Dr. Bannock: If you tell me now, I’ll give you two biscuits.

SCP-4966: Um… the orange person sometimes. They use the head parts so you don’t get distracted from doing scribbles on the board you have like you’re doing right now. That looks real hard.

Dr. Bannock: What do you mean by the head parts? Do you know anything about that?

SCP-4966: Munchy.

(SCP-4966 is given two biscuits.)

SCP-4966: I think they use their head squishies? Like the one in the red guy I munched, and the one in the spiky stripey, but that one wasn’t too good.

Dr. Bannock: Do you mean their brains?

(SCP-4966 nods.)

SCP-4966: Yea, they used the head squishies to talk.

Dr. Bannock: Ok, what did they use in their brains to talk?

SCP-4966: Um, I don’t know about squishy parts. I think the big part that looks like a watermelon is used to talk. I’m not an organ psychic.

Dr. Bannock: Let’s put it this way. Do you remember the, um, “orange person” that you ate?

(SCP-4966 nods.)

Dr. Bannock: What about their brain was different from the red people’s brains?

SCP-4966: Um… the orange person was colder and was kinda too mushy. The red people had lots more stuff about shooty guns, but I don’t like to hurt people so I say no thank you, mister. The orange person had a lot more about like being stuck in a room, and I don’t think they ever got to taste the crispy crunch of a munchy which is sad.

Dr. Bannock: Yes, that’s quite sad. Was there anything in the red people’s brain about how they talked to the orange person?

SCP-4966: I don’t think they could talk to the orange person because I already ate them.

Dr. Bannock: No, the ones that would pet you.

SCP-4966: (Pauses) Um, one second. I’m gonna do a real big think.

Dr. Bannock: Take your time.

(SCP-4966 sat in silence for several minutes, occasionally making confused vocalizations.)

SCP-4966: I think I found something from the red people, but it’s a bit scrambly and they use some big words I don’t know.

Dr. Bannock: Just do the best you can.

SCP-4966: I think they’re hungry and they want to get some snacks for their sleepover.

Dr. Bannock: I’m sorry?

SCP-4966: They keep saying words about sonic chips, but they aren’t eating any chips and I’m confused… wait I think the orange people had the sonic chips already. Maybe they forgot them at the store ‘cause they’re saying stuff about not noticing the sonic chips. I want munchy sonic chips like the orange person gets.

Dr. Bannock: Can you tell me which orange people can talk with the outside people?

SCP-4966: … Can I have sonic chips for munchies?

After some difficulties, SCP-4966 lists the identification numbers of fourteen D-Class personnel, with several having known affiliations with GoI-003. Autopsies of these individuals have discovered a small device implanted within the cerebellum capable of psionic transmissions. The transmitters possess mild antimemetic properties, making their emitted transmissions be perceived as mundane and unremarkable. For its role in discovering the informants, SCP-4966 was provided a bag of Tostitos brand tortilla chips.

===

[The voice of Dr. Randall Bannock was provided by @iridethedirt.] [The voice of SCP-4966 was provided by @lapis-liberalis.]

===

[This episode was requested by Patreon patron Andrew M. To join him in his support of the show, and to gain access to a number of patron-exclusive benefits, visit www.patreon.com/thescpfoundationdatabase.]

[Questions or comments? Email us at [email protected]]

#phinnsyreads #scp foundation #scp 4966 #tubbioca #reading #reader #voiceover #horror #sci-fi #urban legend #folklore #fiction #podcast #patreon #soundcloud

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luxusnoname · 5 years

Text

A Long Forgotten Ache, Pt.1 (Xigbar/Vexen)

Summary: Being a Nobody is easy without all of those messy emotions weighing you down. Still, Xigbar gets to thinking and maybe he misses it a little. Or, rather, he misses someone. But he never goes about things in a straightforward way. The first half of a two part fic.

Characters/Pairings: Xigbar/Vexen

Rating: T (swears, fighting & some blood, nbd)

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Part two is technically done, but I definitely want to do some quality edits before posting. Both parts were actually written last year with inktober prompts, but ended up fitting together nicely as one story. I made a lot of improvements to this portion and want the continuation to be on that same level. So in the meantime… Happy 2/4 ^^

~~~

A Long Forgotten Ache

When Xemnas asked Xigbar who he wanted with him on a recon mission in a world with no magic, the freeshooter was perhaps too quick to volunteer Vexen. He could tell that answer wasn’t exactly what the Superior expected.

“Are you… Quite sure? You wouldn’t rather have Xaldin or Lexaeus accompany you?”

“Look, I know he’s the resident egghead and not exactly our best fighter, but he’s the only one around here with an eye as sharp as mine. Well, almost.” Xigbar grinned and pointed to his good eye to reinforce the point. “Yeah the other two have brute strength, but I could really use his intuition on this one.”

That, of course, was only part of the reason. Vexen was also incredibly fun to agitate. The rise he could get out of him wasn’t the same as it used to be, but it was better than anyone else in the Organization. Plus, they hadn’t spent much time together since becoming Nobodies. He would lie if he wasn’t a little curious as to how much of Even was still left. But personal curiosity and entertainment didn’t make for a good argument, so he said nothing more.

Xemnas hummed to himself, considering. “I suppose that would work. But see to it that he’s capable of defending himself without his magic, should there be any difficulties on the mission. You’ll depart at the end of the week.”

Xigbar gave a flippant salute as he summoned a corridor to the academic’s lab. “You got it, boss.”

As expected, Vexen was less than pleased with Xigbar’s request. Something about his talents being best utilized for research, having no interest in a fruitless recon mission, and honestly Xigbar kinda stopped listening at that point because it turned into a full on laundry list of reasons why he had better things to do and he would not be wasting his time with this.

“See, but here’s the thing,” Xigbar cut in a few minutes into the scientist’s rant, knowing full well he’d be there all day otherwise. “I’m not just asking you politely. These are orders straight from the top.”

Vexen sputtered, nearly dropping his beaker full of who knows what chemical. “Lord Xemnas himself picked me for this assignment?”

“Well, I made a case for you but yeah, boss man’s orders.”

Vexen finally turned from his experiment and narrowed his eyes at the freeshooter. “If you made a case for me, then I suppose my only way of getting out of this is to make a case against myself. Provided, of course, that’s an option.”

“Heh, you’re welcome to give it a shot,” Xigbar shrugged, “be my guest. But I really doubt he’s gonna budge on this one. I was pretty convincing.”

“We’ll see about that…”

In the next morning’s meeting, Vexen made his case. Or, rather, he tried to make his case. It had only been five minutes and most of the Organization was tuning out. Luxord shuffled and cut his deck, starting up another game of solitaire. Xaldin leaned back in his seat, appearing to nap with his eyes closed. Zexion rolled his eyes as the others quietly chatted amongst themselves. Eventually Xemnas cleared his throat, interrupting the academic and regaining the attention of the meeting.

“While your research is of remarkable importance to the Organization, so is this mission and every other mission we undertake. Do you mean to suggest that the orders I give are frivolous?”

“Of course not, but Lord Xemnas-”

The Superior shot him a withering glare that silenced him once and for all. “My word is final, Number IV. You are going on this mission and I’d rather be certain that you’re prepared for it. Whatever form that preparation takes is up to Xigbar.”

As Xemnas disappeared from the room, uncomfortable glances were exchanged among the remaining members before leaving to begin their own missions. Xigbar shot Vexen a smug grin, receiving an irritated huff in return.

After the meeting, the scientist pulled him aside in the Grey Area. He was slightly subdued after Xemnas’ scolding, but Xigbar could tell if he had emotions that he’d be fuming inside.

“While I believe our Superior has far too much confidence in you, I have no other choice but to comply. So how would you like to do this?”

His lips curled into a cheshire grin. “Meet me back here later tonight and I’ll brief you on the mission. Tomorrow morning, we’ll spar so I can test your readiness.”

Vexen gave no indication that he would comply as he stomped off into a corridor, but Xigbar knew he would show. He may grump and argue until he’s blue in the face, but he followed orders. That was one thing that hadn’t changed about him. About Even.

Xigbar caught himself smirking - no, smiling - at the thought of the academic’s Somebody name. Huh. Despite it all, maybe he hadn’t changed much himself.

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

The next morning found Xigbar waiting for Vexen in the Hall of Empty Melodies. It was his favored room for training because of all the different ways he could manipulate it with his spatial powers, but he also found himself going there to organize his thoughts when his own room became too stifling. He perched himself on the balcony, one knee drawn nearly up to his chest and the other dangling over the edge.

It wasn’t often that Xigbar found himself pondering his past life. He was essentially still Braig, after all, just without all of those messy emotions. And boy had Braig been a mess. Drifting through life and never getting too attached to any person or place for long, bonds weren’t really his thing. It was strange when he found himself becoming one of the Apprentices.

Ansem was never much more than his employer, to be honest. The man had taken him in, sure, but the guy was the king of Radiant Garden. To consider him a colleague would have been laughable. Really, he spent the most time with Dilan and Aeleus. They were two of the only people he’d ever considered friends. He got on their nerves and he knew it, but he never pushed it too far (though they might argue with that.) But they never got seriously upset with him. Not like Even.

Even. The academic was skeptical when Braig showed up. Understandably so, but did the cold shoulder really have to be so cold? It was no surprise that the man was a master of ice magic; everything about him was frigid, from his stuffy posture to the very air around him. But it only made Braig want to get closer, to get past the ice and warm him up…

Heh, now those were some thoughts he hadn’t had in a while. All in all, it hadn’t been too bad there at the end. He had coworkers and a routine and a life. A place to call home, despite never having asked for any of it.

And then he gave it all up.

Did he regret it? Sometimes.

There were moments, when they began falling to darkness, when he considered the consequences of his actions. He hadn’t meant for them to be caught up in everything, but then again, how could it have been avoided? He never once went back on his word to the old man, but he’d be lying if he said there were never nights where the guilt gnawed at him, moments he looked at Ienzo and saw a boy that would never truly grow up because of him.

But that was the old life. He stirred out of his thoughts and assessed the room below him. Vexen wasn’t there yet, but would be showing up soon. Xigbar dropped down onto the main platform. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this fight, but he was hoping to be surprised.

Even had never been the physical type, relying on his magic for self defense. But there was a noticeable difference between Even and Vexen. Despite lacking emotion, there was something about him that suggested fire beneath the Nobody’s icy surface. Or so Xigbar hoped.

“Apologies for being late, I didn’t want to be here.”

Xigbar smirked at the approaching scientist. “About time. I was starting to think you got cold feet and stood me up. You ready?”

“If I have to be,” he grumbled.

With a nod, Xigbar unzipped and shrugged off his coat. The freeshooter still had the standard uniform of black shirt and pants on underneath, but made a show of dramatically rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He snuck a look at Vexen, who was watching with no expression save for a raised eyebrow.

“You failed to mention we’d be disrobing for this,” he muttered, his eyes drifting up and down Xigbar’s form. The freeshooter wondered if he was conscious of it or not.

“C’mon, you call this disrobing?” Xigbar barked out a laugh, peeling off his gloves and throwing them down. “Don’t tell me you’re going commando under there.”

“Well of course not, but-”

“It does wonders for mobility, trust me.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Vexen grumbled to himself as he shed his own jacket. Xigbar couldn’t recall ever having seen the man’s arms bared before - well, mostly bared. His broad shoulders had always been obvious, so it shouldn’t have been too surprising when the scientist wasn’t as scrawny as he’d imagined. Of course, Xigbar couldn’t really talk because apart from Zexion, he was definitely the smallest of the Apprentices in both stature and mass. He gave an appreciative nod before getting into a fighting stance.

Vexen copied the motion as best he could. His form was a little loose, suggesting the lack of experience that Xigbar had expected. But that’s why they were there, right?

He knew the answer before he even asked, but gave Vexen the benefit of the doubt anyway. “You ever done this before, Snowflake?”

“No,” he admitted, “but I don’t seem to have much of a choice in the matter, now do I?”

“Damn straight. After I’m through with you though? You’ll be more than ready for the mission.”

At Vexen’s nod, Xigbar gave a silent countdown. Three. Two. One. Without giving Vexen a moment to think, he lunged and closed the distance between them, hoping to catch him off guard with a swift uppercut. To his surprise, the blow was deflected with relative ease. He took a step back to reassess his opponent.

“Well well well,” he huffed, “I should’ve known the nerd could block a punch. I was gonna take it easy on ya, but now…”

Trailing off, he moved back in and followed up with a series of hooks and jabs, all of which Vexen managed to block. And with each passing second, each failed attempt, the scientist was looking more and more smug. He knew the freeshooter had underestimated him.

As they circled each other, the room silent save for their labored breaths and footfalls, Xigbar grew impatient. He hadn’t managed to land a single hit yet. It wasn’t as if he’d gone into the sparring match with the express purpose of beating on the academic, but he just didn’t understand how he was doing so well. Sure, Vexen wasn’t exactly firing back, instead focusing all of his efforts on defense, but Xigbar was no stranger to a fist fight. So what gives?

And it was then that he remembered Vexen’s signature wasn’t a weapon at all, but a shield. Well, he’d just have to give him something he couldn’t block that easily. He locked eyes with the academic before lunging again.

As expected, Vexen was ready for the attack, dodging the first hit and continuing to deflect the rest. After a few more unsuccessful blows, Xigbar saw his opening and took it. The freeshooter threw all of his weight into a tackle, grabbing the man’s wrists as they both went down.

He sat up, slightly dazed and his own body sore from the fall, but kept the scientist’s arms pinned to the ground. And the momentary look of shock on Vexen’s face - if he could feel shock, anyway - was well worth it. The scientist looked down to see Xigbar straddling his waist and shot him a sneer.

“I didn’t realize this was a grappling match as well,” he hissed between shallow breaths.

Xigbar gave a toothy grin. “Can’t have you being the only one full of surprises, now can I?”

He kept Vexen pinned a few seconds longer, looking down at him. The academic was a mess of blonde hair and faux anger, his chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm as he caught his breath. He glared at Xigbar, waiting for him to say or do something. Daring him to make a move. And so without a second thought, Xigbar dipped his head and pressed his lips to Vexen’s in a fleeting kiss.

Or, what was meant to be fleeting. The kiss was unexpectedly returned, Vexen’s mouth parting with a quiet ‘mmph’ before falling into sync with Xigbar’s. Something sparked in the sharpshooter’s chest - a long forgotten ache, right where his non existent heart should be. He pulled back, unable to keep his jaw from going slack as he stared down at Vexen. The man’s face was a mirror of his own, almost as if he was equally surprised at the reciprocation. Unless… he felt it too? Xigbar almost thought he saw color beginning to tinge the man’s cheeks when-

CRACK.

In his moment of distraction, Vexen had freed his right hand and swung with all of his remaining strength, landing a solid blow against the freeshooter’s face and effectively knocking him off.

Xigbar clutched at his bleeding and likely broken nose, eye wide with shock. His breath came in gasps as he stared at Vexen. “… the fuck?”

Vexen stood up and grabbed his jacket, furiously brushing his hair back into place. His face was definitely turning red and for a moment Xigbar could swear he was looking at a flustered Even, not the heartless Nobody that had just decked him.

“I’ll see you on the day of the mission, and not a moment before.” He gave the sharpshooter one last glare before disappearing into a dark corridor.

Xigbar couldn’t even think straight as he tried to process everything that just happened. The fight was over quicker than expected. Shit, had he technically lost? Did he just get his ass handed to him by Vexen? All because of some… stupid tingling in his chest that shouldn’t have even been there in the first place. Or at least, it hadn’t been in a long time. Why had he done that?

He laid down, head thunking against the floor as he clutched at his still bleeding nose. Well, maybe it wasn’t all bad. Vexen wouldn’t be telling anyone about their little match after that stunt, so at least his dignity was spared. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

In private, Xermnas had confided in him that regrowth of one’s heart was theoretically possible. It was gone now, but he still felt the ghost sensations of a pulse, the flickering of a flame that had long gone out. Maybe there was something to that theory after all. Not that he’d be reporting this back to their Superior any time soon. Or ever.

Instead, it might be worth it to look into the phenomenon on his own. And if he played his cards right, Vexen might willingly help him. He allowed himself a chuckle before closing his eye. After all, research was easier with a partner.

#xigbar #vexen #organization xiii #xigvex #kh #posting b4 i chicken out.#or disappear for a few months again.#hope this isn't terrible i can't write a kiss to save my life OTL

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