#old-school athletes and models | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zepskies · 29 days

Text

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side.

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…”

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him.

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively.

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but…

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List:

If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

215 notes · View notes

capricorn-season · 1 year

Text

Homophobia in drag

When I was a young boy, I loved spending the night at my grandmother’s house. There, I could stay up as late as I wanted, and in the morning, there would always be Cinnamon Toast Crunch for breakfast. But the best part was raiding the closet in her basement, which was full of the gowns she had worn in the 1960s and 1970s – frilly pink and purple confections made of lace, chiffon and silk. I would put them on and watch The Golden Girls, sophisticatedly sipping Coke from a wine glass.

When I was nine, my dad bought a video camera, a giant monstrosity that my siblings and I struggled to balance on our shoulders while we filmed home videos. Alone, I’d prop the camera on the coffee table and record myself modelling various outfits, explaining to the camera why this plaid shirt went with these cargo shorts, or why this teal Starter jacket complemented these acid-washed jeans so perfectly. I captured on camera the dance I had painstakingly choreographed to Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch’s ‘Good Vibrations’.

As a kid, I followed my two older sisters around like a shadow, mimicking their mannerisms – the way they tucked loose strands of hair behind their ears when they were concentrating on their maths homework; the way they jutted their hips whenever they were talking to cute boys. Like them, I was a naturally athletic kid. My favourite sport was lacrosse, but I much preferred to play with the girls instead of the boys. The boys were quick to push and shove, and they loved to whack each other with their aluminium sticks. Girls relied more on their speed, their reflexes and the skills they’d honed to keep the ball securely cradled in the shallow mesh of their wooden sticks.

I grew up in a fundamentalist Christian community – most people would call it a cult. From kindergarten to the sixth grade, I attended the community’s tiny school. Because enrollment was so low, there was no in-crowd, no separate cliques of jocks and geeks. In retrospect, I’m sure my classmates and especially my teachers noticed my gender-nonconformity – all of my home videos prove that it was glaring – but it went largely ignored. All that mattered was that we were good Christians, that we loved Jesus and evangelised God’s Word to as many people as possible. When I learned about homosexuals in Bible class, or about AIDS (which we were told God had created to punish homosexuals for their sins), I didn’t think for a moment that I was one of them. Sure, my first real crush, when I was 11, had been on a boy – Elijah Wood, an actor about my age whose performance in the 1994 B-movie, North, had captured my heart. But at the time, before sexual maturity, I mistook the longing I felt for Elijah with the more sanitised desire to simply keep his company and be his best friend. I indiscriminately absorbed all of the lessons I learned about homosexuals, as if they were and would always be irrelevant to my life.

The summer after my sixth-grade year, my family left the community and we moved to a neighbouring town. I began seventh grade in a large public school, where there was definitely an in-crowd. My new classmates wasted little time informing me how unacceptable it was for a boy like me to behave the way I did – the way I enunciated my s-words, the way I brushed my auburn hair, which I had highlighted the previous summer with Sun-In. They called me a faggot, delivered me notes that said everyone knew my ‘dirty little secret’. They asked me frequently, ‘Are you a boy or a girl?’. Well, of course I was a boy, I would respond, trembling.

Meanwhile, I was beginning to sexually mature; I was soon developing crushes that inspired more than just a desire to keep a boy’s company. With horror, I realised that I might actually be what the kids were calling me – which, I knew in my bones, guaranteed me a tragically short life and a one-way ticket to hell. That, after all, was what the old form of homophobia entailed. Self-loathing.

To survive the onslaught, I defeminised myself. I lowered my voice, started wearing baggy jeans and sweatshirts, cut the highlights out of my hair, and replaced my Mariah Carey CDs with Nirvana. Soon, the fear and the anxiety became too much to bear, and the only refuge I found was in alcohol and drugs.

In high school, with each passing year, my drug use got worse. After graduation, I lasted one semester in college before dropping out. Two months later, at the age of 19, I had my first of several stays in a local psychiatric ward. I was delusional, addicted to drugs and suicidal.

It was during my second stay in the psychiatric ward that I was introduced to a 12-step programme, which was how I would eventually get sober in my early twenties. It was slow-going in the beginning of my sobriety to accept my homosexuality. I began to reconnect with the young boy I had once been, the boy whose interests expanded beyond what was typical for males. I experimented with bronzer and mascara, and got French manicures and pedicures.

Engaging in these behaviours felt liberating for a while, but eventually the novelty wore off. In fact, they started to feel performative. I realised I didn’t need those things to be my authentic self. My ideas, my voice, the way I treat other people – these are the things that make me the person I truly am.

In 2011, when I was 28, I fell in love with a man. The following year, I joined the fight for marriage equality. After we won that campaign, I knew I wanted to become a gay activist. I wanted to help create a world in which feminine boys and butch girls could exist peacefully in society. A world in which gender-nonconforming people were accepted as natural variations of their own sex. Minorities, sure, but real and valid nonetheless.

The trans question

In 2017, at the age of 33, I enrolled at Columbia University, New York to complete my undergraduate degree. There, I was shocked to discover how gay activism had evolved since marriage equality became the law of the land. The focus was now entirely on personal pronouns and on being ‘queer’. My classmates labelled me ‘cis’, short for cisgender. I didn’t even know what it meant. All I knew was that they called me ‘cis’ in the same cadence that the seventh graders had called me ‘fag’.

Soon, I learned about nonbinary identities, and that some people – many people – were literally arguing that sex, not gender, was a social construct. I met people who evangelised a denomination of transgenderism that I had never heard of, one that included people who had never been gender dysphoric and who had no desire to medically transition. I met straight people whose ‘trans / nonbinary’ identities seemed to be defined by their haircuts, outfits and inchoate politics. I met straight women with Grindr accounts, and listened to them complain about the ‘transphobic’ gay men who didn’t want to have sex with women.

All around me, it seemed, straight people were spontaneously identifying into my community and then policing our behaviours and customs. I began to think that this broadening of the ‘trans’ and ‘queer’ umbrella was giving a hell of a lot of people a free pass to express their homophobia.

At Columbia, I took classes on LGBT history, but much of that history was delivered through the lens of queer theory. Queer theorists appropriate French philosopher Michel Foucault’s ideas about the power of language in constructing reality. They argue that homosexuality didn’t exist prior to the late 19th century, when the word ‘homosexual’ first appeared in medical discourse. Queer theorists proselytise a liberation that supposedly results from challenging the concepts of empirical reality and ‘normativity’. But their converts instead often end up adrift in a sea of nihilism. Queer theory, which has become the predominant method of discussing and analysing gender and sexuality in universities, seemed to me to be more ideological than truthful.

In my classes on gender and sexuality in the Muslim world, however, I discovered something else, too. I learned about current medical practices in Iran, where gay sex is illegal and punishable by death, and where medical transition is subsidised by the state to ‘cure’ gays and lesbians who, the theocratic elite insists, are ‘normal’ people ‘trapped in the wrong bodies’. I privately drew parallels between the anti-gay laws and practices of Iran and what I saw developing in the West, but I convinced myself I was just being paranoid.

Then, I learned about what was happening to gender-nonconforming kids – that they were being prescribed off-label drugs to halt their natural development, so that they’d have time to decide if they were really transgender. If so, they would then be more successful at passing as the opposite sex in adulthood. Even worse, I learned that these practices were being touted by LGBT-rights organisations as ‘life-saving medical care’.

It felt like I was living in an episode of The Twilight Zone. How long were these kids supposed to remain on the blockers? And what happens in a few years, if they decide they’re not ‘truly trans’ after all, and all of their peers have surpassed them? Are they seriously supposed to commence puberty at 16 or 17 years of age? These questions rattled my brain for months, until I learned the actual statistics: nearly all children who are prescribed puberty blockers go on to receive cross-sex hormones. Blockers don’t give a kid time to think. They solidify him in a trans identity and sentence him to a lifetime of very expensive, experimental medicalisation.

I wondered how different these so-called trans kids were from the little boy I had been. Obviously, I grew up to be a gay man and not a transwoman. But how could gender clinicians tell the difference between a young boy expressing his homosexuality through gender nonconformity, and someone ‘born in the wrong body’? I decided to dig deeper into the real history of medical transition.

Medicalising homosexuality

What I learned validated all of my worst fears. I learned that for decades after their invention, synthetic ‘sex hormones’ were used by doctors and scientists who sought to ‘cure’ homosexuality, and by law enforcement to chemically castrate men convicted of committing homosexual acts.

I learned about actress and singer Christine Jorgensen, one of the first people in the US to become widely known for having ‘sex-reassignment’ surgery in the early 1950s. Jorgensen may now be celebrated by the modern ‘LGBTQIA+’ community as a trans icon, but he seemed more concerned with escaping his homosexuality, which he said was ‘deeply alien to my religious attitudes’. As Jorgensen put it, ‘I identified myself as female and consequently my interests in men were normal’.

I learned that of the first adolescents to be treated for gender dysphoria (or what was then called ‘gender identity disorder’) with puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones in the 1990s and early 2000s, the vast majority were homosexual. And I learned that these studies inform current ‘gender-affirming care’ practices.

Soon, I met detransitioned gay men who had sought an escape from internalised and external homophobia in a transgender identity. They continue to suffer severe post-surgical complications, years after their vaginoplasties.

I began to fear we had reached a point of no return a couple of years ago, during a conversation I had with a supposedly ‘progressive’ friend. I told her that, if I had been a young boy now, I likely would have been prescribed puberty blockers and gone on to medically transition. ‘And you don’t think you would’ve been happy as a transwoman?’, she asked me. Her question left me speechless. I couldn’t find the words to state the obvious: that I am a gay man, not a transwoman; that statistics tell me my medical transition may not have been successful; and that I would suffer severe medical complications. In any case, if I had transitioned, I wouldn’t be living an authentic life. After all, isn’t that what this is supposed to be about? Living authentically?

Sylvester, an androgynous disco icon of the 1970s and 1980s, was once asked what gay liberation meant to him. He answered, ‘I could be the queen that I really was without having a sex change or being on hormones’. Perhaps I belong in an earlier era, when newly liberated gays and lesbians rebelled against the medical and psychiatric experiments they had long been subjected to. Perhaps my early aspiration of expanding what it means to be a boy or a girl was nothing but a pipe dream. In Europe, there is hope that these medical experiments will cease, and that gay and lesbian adolescents will be spared from a lifetime of medicalisation. But in the US, nearly eight years after same-sex marriage became the law of the land, it is full-steam ahead with these homophobic practices.

For voicing my concerns about gender-affirming care for minors, I have been called a transphobic bigot. If that’s what speaking out against the medicalisation of homosexuality makes me, then so be it.

#gender critical #jk rowling #twitter #artículo

1K notes · View notes

soul-controller · 1 year

Text

Together Forever

As Ryan Sullivan entered his bathroom to have one last look at himself before heading out to a local beach, the 18-year-old and recent high school graduate couldn’t resist smirking upon seeing his own reflection. Standing there in just a pair of swim shorts, the man’s well-defined physique was on full display. Surely with a bod like this, every chick is gonna want their hands all over me, he thought to himself.

Upon pulling his phone from his shorts to take some photos of his progress, the man found a brand new text message from his ex-girlfriend Becca waiting for him. “Hey, I’m outside your house. Please talk to me, I’ll be quick I promise,” the message said, which immediately caused Ryan to chuckle and roll his eyes at the girl’s desperation.

Just over a week ago, Ryan spent an entire night smoking weed with his best friends and thinking about his future. Given the fact that he was just a few months away from moving to the opposite side of the country to go play soccer at a major university, it seemed as though Ryan was being offered the opportunity to get a completely fresh start to his life. No longer would he be an athlete living in a small-town with nothing exciting occurring and practically no attractive women around him. Once he made the move to California, he would be a total hunk living in a big city that would surely keep life interesting (especially with a sudden influx of aspiring models eager to get with him). As such, he quickly realized that being tied down to some high school relationship was a waste of time and a piss-poor decision for his sex life given the long distance that they would have to adapt to. So in his impaired state, Ryan stumbled through his words before eventually sending off a to-the-point and brutal text that broke up his 5-year-long relationship with Becca without a hint of remorse.

For several days since sending that text, Ryan found his phone constantly blowing up with texts and DMs from the shunned woman who begged to have a civil conversation so she could gain closure and they could terminate the relationship like the adults they were on their way to becoming. Although she continually stated that she thought that they would “be together forever”, she wasn’t furious and remained quite level-headed throughout the various messages she sent. But the hunk refused to ever respond to the girl’s messages, instead taking screenshots of the messages and sending them off to his friends while framing the messages as a display of how desperate and pathetic she was. Of course, Ryan’s friends weren’t respectful of the couple’s privacy in the slightest, so they continued to pass along the messages to others until practically everyone in their graduating class knew about the breakup and Becca’s pleas.

In the fallout of the breakup, it wasn’t shocking to discover that drastically different mindsets were formed for each individual involved. While Becca continued to be ridiculed by the jocks and other popular kids that they knew, Ryan was being put on a pedestal as if he had done something noble by breaking them up. The jocks were obviously quite supportive of the breakup, informing Ryan of how “lame” and “awkward” they always thought Becca was while also offering to help be his wingmen to get him laid as soon as possible. In the most puzzling tidbit of all though, it seemed as though many women were on Ryan’s side as well as they reached out to send their regards towards the breakup while also throwing their hat in the ring to be a potential rebound for the man. Throughout the entire experience though, Ryan felt no shame for his actions and didn’t even have a single lingering thought about how Becca was handling everything.

As Ryan rolled his eyes once again upon re-reading the latest message from Becca, the man quickly typed out “fine, make it quick bc i’m heading to the beach” and headed down to the front door. Upon opening it, Ryan took a moment to stare at the girl. Although Becca was quite attractive in her form-fitting crop top that showed off her taut stomach and sizable breasts, the clear sight of runny mascara due to the girl’s crying immediately killed any remaining attraction he felt for the girl. In Ryan’s eyes, signs of weakness in women was the ultimate boner killer for him, so as he moved to the side and allowed the brunette to make her way into the house, he couldn’t help but physically cringe at her as he heard a slight sniffle emerge from her mouth.

Upon shutting the door and turning to face the girl, Ryan immediately crossed his arms as he observed his ex. “So, what do you want to talk about,” he said, his voice completely lacking in any emotion.

As Becca stood there with her head narrowed downwards, the girl’s shaky voice finally began to speak. “I- I’m sorry for this Ryan, I just want to be with you for the rest of my life,” she began, immediately rushing up to the man and trying to grip him.

Despite how off-put he was by Becca’s statement, the man’s stone-faced expression finally began to soften as he felt the woman’s dainty arms reaching around his back. The physical sensation instantly reminded the man of the good times that they had throughout their many years together, especially when it came to the incredible sex that the two of them had. Immediately, the wheels in his head began turning as the concept of passionate makeup sex popped into his head. Thinking that he might be able to continue having some kinky sex with the girl under the guise of getting back together (he was still planning on going to California completely single), the man finally unfolded his arms.

As he moved the meaty limbs around the woman’s dainty frame and tightly squeezed her though, there was the sudden feeling of heat that spread through both of their bodies. Not only that, but as Ryan continued to hold her with his eyes closed, the sensation of pressure against his torso was quite apparent. So to find some answers about what was going on, the man opened his eyes and looked down at his torso. To his complete horror though, a large section of Becca’s body had somehow sunken into his body! Screaming in horror, he tried his best to try and flee, but found that his movements only brought along the female who was still tightly clinging around his muscular frame.

“Becca, get the fuck off of me,” Ryan cried aloud, trying his best to pull the woman’s arms away from around him but finding that the arms were unable to be pulled apart. As he attempted to thrash and escape the horrific entanglement he was a part of, the man soon found himself unable to move as a tightness was suddenly forming in the circle of limbs and body that wrapped around him. In one sudden tug, every inch of the woman’s body was quickly enveloped into Ryan’s body.

For a moment, everything suddenly went black for Ryan. But after a few seconds, Ryan’s vision was quickly regained and the man began to ponder whether he was having some gnarly after-effects from the weed that he had smoked the night prior. Eager to head to the beach and escape the twisted experience he had just fantasized about, the man quickly tried to fish his car keys out of his pocket and begin his journey. But although he could see the living room foyer he was in, it seemed as though the man had somehow lost the ability to move given the fact that his arms refused to reach towards his pockets. What the fuck is going on? Am I tripping somehow, he asked himself, trying to find some semblance of rationale behind what was occurring to him. But quickly, it became clear that something impossible was happening as his mouth and body began to move on its own accord…

* * * * *

“Hehe yes! It really worked!” his body exclaimed, taking a moment to tilt his head downwards and see the gorgeous shirtless torso staring back at him. To Ryan’s shock and disgust, he could watch and feel as his masculine and callused hands began to graze along every inch of his muscular build. As his body was continuously felt up and his muscles were flexed, the body invader couldn’t resist girlishly giggling as both them and Ryan picked up on the sudden rise of the man’s prominent manhood. “Oh shit, I’m sorry Ryan! This is my first time becoming a guy so bear with me,” the voice said with a chuckle, immediately causing the man to realize that Becca was now the one in complete control of his body!

No matter how hard he screamed and begged, Ryan was unable to get his ex’s attention as she eagerly flexed his muscles and tested out her brand new voice.

“Lemme guess Ryan, you’re currently freaking out and begging what’s happening to you right?” she inquired, taking not even a second-long pause before continuing to speak. “Well to put it simply Ryan, you were a goddamn prick that needed to be taught a lesson. Not only did you reject me for no reason, but you spread my messages around and now everyone in town thinks I’m some desperate and pathetic loser! Like, that’s so fucked up of you babe!” she exclaimed, a clear hint of anger in her gruff voice that immediately made Ryan realize the error of his ways. “Luckily for me, I have a friend who’s a witch that offered to help me get some revenge on my heartless dick of a boyfriend. After she cast the spell on me, I was given the ability of possession upon making physical contact with you. All I had to do was squeeze my way in and now I’m suddenly Ryan Sullivan!”

“Don’t worry though babe, we’re gonna be a great team together. With my brains as the class valedictorian and your brawn, we’ll be unstoppable in college,” she continued, beginning to walk down the hallway of the Sullivan residence. Before long, she finally entered Ryan’s bathroom and Ryan was thus treated to the terrifying sight of his reflection moving and speaking without his control. “While we’re going to be a great team, I can’t deny that we’re going to need to make some changes to your life Ryan. You see, while my friend was able to give me your body and other things such as important memories and your innate athletic skill, she was unable to pass along your sexuality and personality to help make me perfectly inhabit your life. So, I hate to say it babe, but I think you’re going to be coming out as a gay man soon. It works out great though that we’ll be heading out to college in a few months though, especially since that means I can be myself and not have to be this angsty and toxic version of Ryan all of the time.”

Upon understanding that Becca was going to completely demolish his life and the image that he had created for himself as this dominant and extremely cocky hunk, the man couldn’t help but scream into the darkest depths of his mind. To him, this was a nightmare come to life! To make matters even worse, it seemed as though there was no way of ever regaining control of his body as Becca made a passing remark while flexing about how the possession was permanent.

For Becca though, the concept of becoming Ryan Sullivan was a dream come true. Although there would surely be a hard learning curve in terms of adapting to having a cock and the near-constant boners she would surely be sporting for the foreseeable future, it was an upgrade in every other way. The Sullivan family was incredibly wealthy, so she would never have to worry about having to work hard in college. Instead, she’ll have all of the free time in college to explore her new body and build more muscle as she turns herself into the hottest gay man on campus. Although it would surely be nice to find a nice and respectful man to spend the rest of her life with, Becca couldn’t deny how happy she was to still have Ryan in her life. In more ways than one, they would now truly be together forever!

Like what you read? Please consider signing up for my Patreon to read more stories and support my work.

#male transformation #female to male #gender change #possession #sexuality change

823 notes · View notes

red-hot-kick · 10 months

Text

Theory: Ryuji was popular, before.

I'm not entirely sure if anyone has really talked about this but I maintain my interpretation that, in the canon of Persona 5, Ryuji used to be very (or at least moderately) popular prior to the events of the story.

This is something I've gotten into before when talking to friends who like the game and the character, but I haven't really considered writing it down until now. The main argument I have is based on three things:

Things Ryuji alluded to in canon (but no one believed him on)

The deliberate choice of making him a track athlete

Typecasting for voice actors

1: "There were girls all over me!"

I don't really have the time to go on a deep dive through all the instances in which he hints at his reputation before the Kamoshida incident, but I think the most clear-cut representation of this was during the scene where he and Ann spend the day with Futaba during her post-palace social rehabilitation:

So here's the thing...I don't think he's lying about this. Nobody in the room would be that impressed to find out whether Ryuji was popular since they are already friends (or in Mona's case, he really just doesn't care), so it wouldn't make sense for him to lie.

Regarding everyone's reactions though, here's my impression: Ann was simply not aware of what was going on with the track team, being predominantly focused on dealing with rumors, her friendship with Shiho, and her modeling career (and eventually Kamoshida's advances once he started doing that shit) and she mentions a few times that she and Ryuji weren't actually close before joining the PT; they were just in the same class in middle school. Futaba hasn't interacted with anyone her age in years and isn't the most reliable source when it comes to what people generally find attractive; just because she doesn't have any interest in Ryuji doesn't mean that nobody her age would. And Morgana is a cat that brags constantly about how cool he is, so he shouldn't be throwing rocks.

There are many other times in the game when you get little glimpses of his social savvy, and from my understanding of Royal (I'm an OG vanilla P5 player and haven't done 3rd-semester yet, so don't kill me) when the track team returns to "how it was", he is getting along extremely well with everyone. Not only was he the team's ace: this kid was also expected to become the captain by his senior year (as briefly mentioned when he bumps into his former senpai at the gym, iirc). That's huge! If his team held him in such high regard, then the general student body of Shujin surely had a similar opinion. This brings me to my next point:

2: Girls like boys that run fast(???)

This is honestly something that baffles me. It's also really difficult for me to substantiate; any source material on this is obviously in Japanese and if I could find any of it, I sure as hell can't read it. The only English-language source I know of I cannot find anymore; I think it was an old Tofugu article? However. If you've watched any romance anime set in a high school during the last 20 years, you might have seen this trope at some point: the school sports festival is happening, and the relay race is kind of a huge deal (it's the final event! a make-or-break moment for the class!). The boy thinks to himself "If I win this race, I'll be able to win her heart/ask her out/etc." Low-stakes drama ensues. Maybe a confession happens.

This is (from what I've been told) based on a long-standing trend of girls and women self-reporting in surveys about how, oftentimes, their crushes in junior or senior high school were simply "the boy who ran the fastest in the races". I have no idea what this means in a broader cultural context. It makes no goddamn sense to me at all. Do not cite me on this. But I think it's worth keeping in mind, even if it's almost entirely speculative (and possibly outdated) information. And even if it's just based on rumors, don't you think it's pretty in-character for Ryuji to go for a track scholarship—despite being adept at other sports like baseball and football/soccer, as mentioned in P5 and P5D—because he was aware of the potential of being more popular with girls? Of course, his priority would be getting the scholarship and paying his way through school to lighten his mother's burden, but hey, getting a girlfriend on the way up wouldn't be half bad!

I think this could also inform us as to why Kamoshida (as a predator who wanted attention from high school girls) felt so threatened by the track team in particular, and why he felt a need to specifically knock Ryuji down a peg and sought out a weakness to do so (as opposed to targeting any of the probably just-as-popular boys on the many other athletic teams and clubs in the school). Just some food for thought on this one! Also, if anyone can find a source or has any insight on the relay race thing, please share. I am so confused about it.

3: Typecasting

So this is something that you really only notice if you are very into keeping up with seiyuu in Japan. I am not one of those people. But I do have some favorite voice actors! One of these being Mamoru Miyano.

So I freakin' love this dude. He's voiced a lot of my favorite characters, sings incredibly well, and has an unreal sense of comedy. He's stated in interviews that his acting inspiration is Jim Carrey, and let me tell you: it shows. He is also quite consistently typecast into certain roles, predominantly as princely pretty-boy types, Coolguys, or complete fucking nutcases. Sometimes all three at the same time (shoutout to my boy Ling FMA!)

ATLUS definitely cast him for P5 because of his comedic chops. But I think they also cast him because having him voice someone like Ryuji is a great way to subvert expectations for the player. I think it's supposed to give you whiplash—"what do you mean the voice of LIGHT FUCKING YAGAMI is coming out of this guy's mouth?" "why does the delinquent character sound like king of the host club Tamaki Suou?" "isn't that Rin Matsuoka's voice?" etc. etc. etc.

(here's a quick list, just to really get the idea across. maybe you recognize a few.)

This is obviously a non-comprehensive list, but something that a lot of the characters he's voiced over the years have in common is that they were considered cool, handsome, or popular. Not just for fans, but within the canon of their stories! So...what does that mean? What does that say about how we should see Ryuji?

I think players are supposed to expect that he will fall into one of those categories too, and then be surprised to find that it's not the case—that he's been isolated and made bitter and resigned by what happened to him the year before.

Speaking of his tone, I think it's very telling that Ryuji actually forgets to keep up the delinquent act a lot in the original JP audio, which unfortunately doesn't really carry over in the ENG translation. The delivery of his JP lines sounds a bit more subdued in comparison too—yeah he's got a lot of energy and is very hotheaded, but when he gets to talking about serious shit, he sounds a lot more regretful and melancholy as opposed to the EN delivery which depicts him as more resentful and outwardly angry. I think before Shit Went Down, he probably had the Coolguy vibe. Still a bit of a rowdy idiot and a showoff, but I think he probably came across to most people as a very friendly, sincere, and popular guy.

So yeah, the girls probably were all over him, at least for a short while.

#persona 5 #ryuji sakamoto #character analysis #LONGASS POST SORRY #I JUST REALLY LIKE HIM AND WANTED TO THINK MY THOUGHTS FOR A WHILE #pita.txt

286 notes · View notes

han4el · 17 days

Text

How I see the moon signs, as a cancer rising + leo moon

— Aries Moon

So insane... love it. I just never know what to expect from them. When I think I start to understand them, I discover a new layer to them, a new heatwave incoming, ready to melt any drop of hypocrisy, fakeness or illusions. Personally, I never had close friends with this placement, but I've seen them being very supportive with their close ones. Even if they sometimes say something rude or out of the pocket, it's usually good intended and they only say it if they think it's absolutely necessary (unless you're annoying to them, then they'll just straight up bully you).

Random associations: PE competitions in middle school, angry apologies, crying and laughing at the same time, being mad at someone for being nice to you, being the life of the party for the "the life of the party" people, the best friend of the popular/famous girl, getting giddy with your pet after just yelling at someone, MOOD SWINGS, having a favorite person that shapes your personality more than you think, friendly bullying, loyalty, no bs, no cap, you get what you give, nothing more and nothing less, being remembered by that one friend who checks on you everytime you're struggling, night car rides, uncontrollably laughing in serious situations, red velvet cake, cinnamon, sharp eyeliner, messy hair, making a competition out of anything and getting mad at the fact that you're the only one taking it seriously, always trying to be the best, long-term friendships (like 10 years long), sunstrokes, nosebleeds, blacking out, tremors before fighting, mafia romance, russian models, dry red wine, learning how to fight just to defend yourself, fast life, being in a relationship with someone you low-key hate, fruity and spicy perfumes, enjoying burning paper as a way of releasing stress, feeling relaxed after getting someone else mad instead, forgetting to eat, mixing random pieces but somehow making the outfit work, being the only one who can pull off a piece of clothing or a specific style (usually it looking weird on other people), scratch marks after playing with your pets, having new big dreams every month, red hair, freckles, tanned skin, arm wrestling, boys teasing their crushes, the one who always gets in trouble.

What I love about this placement: the commitment, ambition, devotion, the passion, the energy, the random bursts of emotions. If you need someone to inspire you into doing something, call these guys. They'll make you want to change your life 360° in one night (and most probably actually doing half of those things in one week). They're really good at just getting the sh*t done themselves. Unapologetically authentic and autonomous. The developed ones are actually very good at controlling their feelings and using them for their advantage. Maybe it's just me, but the aries moons I've seen had really pretty skin, usually with freckles. Oh and their noses are usually very pointy or just look that way. Their faces overall just seem very athletic. You might think they do sports even if they don't (they secretly do). Very serious about their purpose. Will never look at you again if you take their dedication for granted. Also, won't waste their time with you if they sense your weak morale, lack of self-awareness or if you don't really wish to change anything in your life. That's an ick for them.

What I dislike about this placement: how fast they forget their old projects and sometimes ex friends (I know it's for their own good, though). Their impulsivity... they will look you in the eyes and say the most gut wrenching threat then forget completely about it 5 minutes later and act all weird if you remind them of it as if it's your fault that you made them "mad enough to behave like that". That loud a** voice in those situations when y'all REALLY have to keep it down 😭 also they're rarely empathetic, so don't run to them when you have a problem (unless you're bffs, then they'll fight whoever hurt you).

My experience with them: 6/10

I might make this a series. Tell me what you think.

#astronote #astrology #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #aries moon #aries #astro #astrology signs #astro blog #astro-observations

55 notes · View notes

teamatsumu · 1 year

Text

: ̗̀➛ his.

kise needs to prove to haizaki that he can’t steal you from him.

pairing: kise ryota x reader

word count: 1,887

✎ suggestive themes, self doubt, angst if you squint

knb masterlist

Kise had known that the outcome of winning the Kaijo vs Fukuda Sogo match wouldn’t be good. But he had expected Haizaki to resort to his usual violent tendencies. In fact, he was almost hoping for it at this point, after seeing what exactly Haizaki was trying to do as part of his revenge. He hadn’t anticipated this at all.

He glared at Haizaki across the table as he conversed with you, talking about the “good old middle school days I spent with Ryota-kun”. Kise nearly barfed at the words, knowing not one sentence that left his rotten mouth was true. He didn’t expect you to know that though. You were listening in intrigue, munching on your lunch and smiling at certain points of Haizaki’s (completely fabricated) stories. Kise felt his hold on his chopsticks tighten, jaw clenching in repressed anger. His leg shook under the table to try and allay some of his anxiety. It was not working.

It was supposed to be a nice, spontaneous shopping date when he had picked you up at your place this morning. He needed new basketball shoes, and it was the perfect excuse to drag you along. He wanted to take every opportunity to spend time with you now that you were officially his. In his mind, this was your first official date after he had asked you to be his girlfriend.

Kise had liked you from the minute he saw you in his class. You had made the transition from Teiko Middle School to Kaijo High way easier for him. You had been kind and befriended him early on when he asked for your help on a particularly difficult Math question (he knew the answer, he just needed an excuse to talk to you). You had enthusiastically agreed to help him, and the rest had been history.

To Kise, you were special. You didn’t care about his athletic pursuits or his modeling career. While you supported him wholeheartedly in all his endeavors, they didn’t define him. And he loved that about you. You were different to him than the usual girls who flocked to him, attracted by the glitter and glam and unable to see the boy underneath. Had it not been so early in your relationship, Kise would wax poetic about you every opportunity he got.

But this was new. It was new and fresh and so, so delicate. He couldn’t risk unintentionally pushing you away. Not when he had just got you.

And so the fear gripped him as he watched you laugh at something Haizaki said, realizing that he could very easily lose you to the man sitting in front of you right now. He had done it before, after all. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to woo you. He had run into the two of you while you shopped, greeting Kise like a long-lost friend and introducing himself as Kise’s old best buddy before Kise could get a single word out. He didn’t even have time to process what was happening before Haizaki was inviting you two to have lunch with him, to which you excitedly agreed, claiming you wanted to know Kise’s old friend, And you were always so kind. How was he supposed to explain to you that Haizaki was a snake? How was he supposed to drag you away without coming off as an asshole? You would probably tell him that he was being too harsh. You always saw the good in people.

You had seen the good in him, hadn’t you?

Kise felt a nudge at his side, turning his head to look at you seated by his side. You were looking at him worriedly, eyes wide and lips pursed in apprehension.

“Are you okay, Ryo-kun?” Your voice was so soft it naturally made his stiff shoulders loosen. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Across the table, Haizaki was smirking dangerously on him, a glint in his eye that told Kise all he needed to know. A claw gripped his heart, throat knotting as the fears of his middle school days encroached on his mind.

Your gentle touch on his arm made him finally move, standing up so abruptly it startled you. You blinked owlishly up at him, and he felt almost bad for doing this, if not for the sweat building up on the back of his neck.

“Can we leave, Y/N-cchi? I’m feeling a bit under the weather.” He tried to keep his voice steady, pointedly ignoring Haizaki’s burning stare. You nodded hastily, standing up and giving Haizaki a smile that made Kise want to scream.

“I guess we have to cut this short, huh?” Haizaki lumbered to his feet, giving Kise a grin that was so fake it took everything for him to not roll his eyes. “We should meet up more often, Y/N-chan, I have so many other stories about Ryota you would love to hear.”

Over Kise’s dead body.

He had reached for your hand, gripping it tightly in his own before throwing a glare at Haizaki, turning to walk out with you in tow. He had used your first name, and addressed you with an endearing honorific. After just one meeting. One conversation. Was that all it took?

“Ryo-kun, slow down!”

Kise blinked and stopped walking, turning to look back at you. He gasped and dropped his hand when he realized how tightly he was holding it, feeling his neck and ears heat up in embarrassment. He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, Y/N-cchi,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I got carried away.”

You sighed and took his hand again, looking around before leading him to an empty bench down the street. You sat down and patted the spot next to you, waiting for him to seat himself before you began to talk.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Kise stared at you for a bit, gulping in what he assumed was a discreet way. “What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.”

Your face was blank as you looked at him, raising a delicate eyebrow in a way that clearly said that’s bullshit. Kise almost laughed.

“You were clearly uncomfortable around Shogo-kun. From the minute we met him, you’ve been quiet. It’s not like you.”

He didn’t hear a word past Shogo-kun. How long had it taken for you to start calling him anything other than Kise-kun? Haizaki had already made more progress in an hour than he had done in months.

“Ryo-kun?” You leaned towards him, and Kise felt every muscle in his body scream. He was panicking, he knew it. It seemed like all his confidence had suddenly gone down the drain. He felt the urge to run far, far away so he didn’t have to witness you spend a single happy minute with Haizaki. And even though Haizaki wasn’t here, Kise felt like the man was hanging over him like a shadow.

“Oh, Ryota, Y/N-chan.” This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real. He watched Haizaki walk up to where you both sat. “You guys are still here. I thought you left, considering Ryota was feeling…… under the weather.”

That fucking tone. Haizaki was mocking him. Kise felt something simmer in his chest, feeling anger that he hadn’t felt since his last tough basketball game. You were looking between both of them in confusion, at the intense staring contest he had going with Haizaki. Kise felt bad, dragging you into this mess just because he won a basketball game. In the grand scheme of things, and compared to you, that win was nothing. Had Kise known this would ensue, he would never have provoked Haizaki or even played in the game.

“We were just leaving.” You stood up, pulling Kise out of his thoughts. Your stance was purposeful and closed off, which made Kise bite the inside of his cheek with worry. Had he freaked you out? Were you upset?

He wordlessly got to his feet and followed you when you tugged on his hand, feeling anxious that this would somehow ruin things between the two of you. A mere ten feet of walking later, you turned around abruptly, looking up at Kise with a heated stare that made him freeze.

“Kiss me.”

Kise’s mouth fell open in shock, eyes so wide he felt like they were ready to pop out of his skull. “H-huh?”

“You want to show him that I belong to you, right?” You leaned closer. “That’s what all the glaring is about. Well, do it. He’s watching.”

Kise instinctively turned his head behind you to see, and sure enough, Haizaki was standing right where you two had left him, only a few strides away, watching both of you, hands stuffed casually in his pockets. He smirked when their eyes met. Kise realized that in that moment, Haizaki probably thought you two were having an argument.

He felt his chest burn in anger.

The next second he turned back to you, one hand reaching up to hold the back of your head and the other on your waist, pulling you in until your lips were meeting in a searing kiss.

He nearly pulled away in surprise when you kissed him back just as aggressively, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, standing on your tiptoes and tilting your head to deepen the kiss. Kise nearly moaned, winding an arm around your waist until your body was flush against his. The people walking past you two faded away from his mind, and he felt his core tighten at how good you felt.

You had never kissed like this. In the handful of times that you had, it had been soft and hesitant, testing the waters, giggling and laughing as you exchanged gentle pecks after a good date. You had never arched into him like this, never sighed and hummed or tugged on his hair until little tingles ran through his scalp. He relished in the feeling of you, in the soft give of your hips under his hands, tongue running over your lips until you opened your mouth and let him in. Kise groaned long and low into your mouth, at how pliant you were being. His cock twitched in his trousers.

He turned you slightly and opened his eyes, still kissing and licking at your lips, eyes laser focused on the person behind you. Haizaki’s mouth had dropped open, and he looked pissed off as he lifted his hand, showing Kise a middle finger before turning and walking in the other direction.

Kise smirked and closed his eyes, both arms wrapping around your frame and kissing you harder, longer, not caring at the weird looks you were attracting.

He kicked himself for ever doubting your love, for ever doubting you and your devotion to him. It took so many months, but that meant one thing; you two had entered this relationship with complete trust and comfort, and a fake, one hour conversation with some random guy wasn’t going to mess that up. Haizaki could try over and over and it still wouldn’t work. This was one thing he couldn’t steal. And the way you whimpered into his mouth when he bit at your lip proved it.

You were Kise’s. No one else’s.

#kise ryota x reader #kise ryouta #kise x reader #kise ryōta #kuroko's basketball #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basuke x reader #knb fanfic #kise ryota x y/n #kise ryota one shot #kise ryota #kise ryota fanfiction #reader insert #kise ryota fic

363 notes · View notes

dumplinsiims · 2 months

Text

Storyline Sim Dump 🤍

Hiiii Plantiesss 🪴

I was feeling really inspired to make some new townies for my save file and thought why not share them with you all! I'm not gonna lie I fell in love with each one of these sims while giving them their backstories. Each of these sims have starter funds, careers, lifestyles, skills and preferences.

Carmelo Paul 🏀 - (age 22) - SBA Player

Newest draft pick for the San Myshuno Titans. Carmelo is an all star athlete. When he's not at practice he loves playing video games and spending time with his new fiancée Cassidy. It has been a bit of an adjustment for the two of them since the signing bonus money has come in and the new found spotlight on them both.

Sporty

Gamer

Ambitious

Light eater

Naturally Funny

Health Food Nut

Energetic

Cassidy Paul 💍 - (age 21) - Stay-at-Home Wife

Cassidy and Carmelo have been lovers since high school and she has been in the bleachers cheering for him ever since. Carmelo's journey to becoming an allstar SBA player allows for her to be a stay-at-home (soon to be) wife. Cassidy enjoys traveling the world for games with Carmelo and in her free time loves baking.

High Maintenance

Baker

Romantic

Cunning

Frequent Traveler

Health Food Nut

Forrest Shipley 🚓 - (age 39) - Detective

Detective Forrest Shipley moves to Del Sol Valley and quickly gains a reputation for solving high-profile cases among the city's elite. Despite the allure of fame, Forrest remains focused on uncovering the truth, driven by a mysterious cold case that led him to the city. Detective Shipley is a workaholic, it is starting to show in his appearance of dark circles around the eyes. He needs to lay off surviving on coffee and 2 hours of sleep.

Nosy

Overachiever

Cheerful

Active

Practice Makes Perfect

Observant

Workaholic

Pinky Burroughs 👠 - (age 20) - Law School Student

Pinky, a Foxbury college student, works as a stripper to pay her way through school. Balancing her studies with late nights at the club, she dreams of a brighter future while navigating the challenges of her double life. Young and exploring her youth and sexuality, Pinky finds that the burden of studying to become a lawyer is impacting her social life, leaving her with little free time. She's torn between continuing her education and the allure of the social media attention she's been receiving since she started dancing.

Dance Machine

Recycle Disciple

Mixologist

Charming

Bookworm

Techie

People Person

Justice Brown 🩺 - (age 30) - Pediatric Specialist

Justice Brown, a dedicated pediatric specialist at Willow Creek General Hospital, juggles her demanding career with raising her four-year-old daughter, Angel. Two years ago, Cameron, Angel's father, left without a word, leaving Justice to navigate single motherhood. Despite the challenges, Justice's love for Angel and her passion for nursing keep her going. She dreams of advancing her career and creating a stable, happy future for her daughter, finding strength in their bond and the support of friends and family.

Love's Children

Introvert

Sincere

Bookworm

Family-Oriented

Sickness Resistance

Single and Loving It

Close-Knit

Coffee Fanatic

Angel Brown 🍼 (age 4)

Angel Brown, at four years old, was a bright ray of sunshine in Justice's life. Independent and well-mannered, she had an angelic voice that filled their home with songs about butterflies and stars. Despite the challenges of single motherhood, Justice found joy in Angel's gentle spirit and love for singing. Together, they created a home filled with laughter, music, and boundless love, where Angel's presence was a beacon of happiness and hope.

Independent

Angelic

Little Singer

Jhené Rios 📸 - (age 24) - Cover Model

Jhené Rios, a top magazine model, is not just known for her beauty but also her peaceful and proper demeanor. With a deep hunger for love, she seeks meaningful connections in a world of glamour. A health food nut and vegetarian, Jhené tends to her own garden, finding peace in nurturing plants. Her life aspiration is inner peace, striving to balance her high-profile career with her serene, wholesome lifestyle.

Peaceful

Green Thumb

Proper

Vegetarian

Hungry for Love

Health Food Nut

Kenji Wolfe 🔪 - (age 26) - Executive Chef

Kenji Wolfe, an executive chef, is a culinary genius known for his relentless work ethic and impeccable skills. A workaholic and foodie, he spends countless hours perfecting his dishes and creating legendary pastries. Despite his demanding career, Kenji is a true "bro" and enjoys sharing meals with friends. His proper demeanor ensures every dish is beautifully presented. With a life aspiration to become a master chef, Kenji is driven by his love for food and the pursuit of culinary excellence, though his noncommittal nature keeps him focused on his career above all else. However, his noncommittal nature does not stop his extra curricular activities in the bedroom. No matter how proper he is, he tends to be a heartbreaker in that aspect.

Bro

Noncommittal

Baker

Proper

Foodie

Workaholic

I reaaallly hope you all enjoy these sims and their backstories! - Please share screenshots and videos of these sims in your game! I would love to see how they come to life in your game! Tag me on all platforms @Dumplinsiims so I can see their shenanigans!

Download them here

#sims #sims 4 #sims 4 cc #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 cas #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 mods #sim dump #sims 4 screenshots #sims community #sims 4 story #sims story

54 notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 5 months

Note

Oooh okay so what if it was Yandere teacher x student?? Take childe as an example:

He’s the popular gym teacher thats being forced to mentor the GIRLS team because their old teacher is on leave. He’s devastated bc rlly??? Girls? how can girls this day and age possibly think they can be athletes? They should be doing much more productive things like cooking and how to sew torn clothes. And I also imagine darling is one of the more athletic students, and Childe’s now determined to set things straight and force guide darling down a more acceptable pathway. She’ll be an excellent role model for the other students!! …once she stops being so rebellious of course… and he may as well keep her for himself once her training is complete too ❤️

I have a few more ideas like with science teacher albedo, but I’ll just leave this one here

Ooh also I did a quick skim of the anon list and can I please be 😼 anon??

(Added! I added several other emojis to the list based on inbox messages as well, thank you all!)

It's a fair tradeoff. Sure, the girls are exasperating to deal with and less competitive, and it's pointless for them to be doing this anyway… but on the bright side, he gets to watch high school girls running around in gym shorts, and some don't bring or forget a sports bra, so their chests are all bouncy when they have to jog.

He works things out to his benefit. Girls tend to be less into competitive games and weightlifting, and more into stuff like yoga or other activities that have you slowly bending and stopping and stretching your body all different ways. And if your posture is a bit off, he has a reasonable excuse to correct that and in doing so grasp at your waist and thighs.

Maybe teaching girls isn't all that bad after all…

#.miso #q

77 notes · View notes

octuscle · 5 months

Text

Old

When you're skinny and weak, it's no fun being young. Richard wasn't even particularly clever or funny or charismatic. Richhard was just a lop! No longer being 18. No longer being mistaken for 16. No longer being bullied… Richard wanted nothing more! Regularly attending a gym seemed the logical consequence. Train hard. That must lead to muscles. And tougher facial features. And more respect from others…. But the first few visits to the gym were more than demoralizing. The other guys here were so much bigger than him. He looked ridiculous in his cheap clothes from school sports. Richard moved his work outs to the early mornings or late evenings when he was almost alone. At some point he was asked if he would like to earn a few extra dollars. Soon, when he trained in the evening, Richard would lock up the gym after his workout, clean up, mop the floor and get everything ready for the next morning. This had many advantages. He had money for better clothes and even got an employee discount at the gym store. And he could train completely alone and undisturbed after the official end of business.

That had an effect. Slowly. Far too slowly. After six months, perhaps no one was laughing at Richrad anymore. But no one showed him any respect from the members or colleagues who occasionally crossed his path despite his training and working hours.

Richard had already heard about this Chronivac. It was used to support particularly solvent customers with their transformations. The device had to be in the managing director's office. But it was always locked there. There was no chance of getting to the device. Until this one evening. The evening when Richard walked through the corridors with the mop. And the door to the office was open. Wide open. And this device was lying on the desk. Obviously on. The display bathed the office in a very faint blue light.

"Scanning the client" was written on the display… It looked like a normal smartphone app. Richard pressed "okay" and a monitor appeared. Richard held the device in front of his face. There was no button like on a camera. But after a few moments there was an acoustic signal and the message "Number of virtual training units" appeared on the display. Damn, what was that supposed to mean? Was the device simulating training sessions? Richard trained three times a week. 12 times a month. 144 times a year. It would be cool to be four years older. 22 years old. A college jock who had been training hard for four years. Richard did a quick mental calculation. That was about… He heard footsteps. Shit! 500 had to be about right. He typed in 600 and pressed enter. And carefully put the device back on the desk. Hopefully that had worked. He took the mop and ran to the showers. And while he was mopping the floor, Nick, the manager, came in. He greeted Richard and asked if everything was OK. It was already late and Richard should leave. All right, Richard replied. The message "Transformation started. Perform 500 monthly training cycles. Transformation within the next eight hours."

As he has done for almost 42 years, Rick was one of the first to enter the gym. He had been a member longer than any other guy pumping here. Longer than anyone who worked here. Rick was simply part of the inventory. He was the janitor, the manager, the go-to guy here. And a role model for every man who trained here. Yes, Rick had never become one of the musclemen who also trained here. But he had also always been clean. Never cheated. And a body that still worked like a well-oiled machine despite his almost 60 years of life was his thanks. Yes, his beard and hair were gray. But he still had the body of a 30-year-old athlete. And with that, he had honestly earned the respect of everyone here.

Inspiration by @workinprogress1986

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #age progression #ai image

114 notes · View notes

flyingwargle · 25 days

Text

tsukishima often forgets that he's considered a public figure. his picture has been on billboards around the city and pamphlets to advertise the v. league; he's been interviewed for magazines and television talk shows; and he's done a few brand deals here and there. one thing that he always forgets as a possibility as an athlete is-

talking to kids.

once a month, the team gives presentations to different schools in the city. for elementary school kids, they focus on the importance of exercise and healthy living. for junior high, it shifts to how to start their athletic career. for high school, it's all about avenues to reach the top level.

this time, though, it's an elementary school, so that means a day of rowdy kids with insensitive questions, too much sass, or not enough tact.

"i don't want to do this." kyoutani is slouched on the bench, already in uniform. tsukishima nods in agreement, similarly dressed, long legs stretched in front of him.

"come on, guys! don't you ever think you're some kid's hero?" koganegawa is enthusiastic, as always. "i always loved meeting my role models! we could really make someone's day!"

kyoutani snorts. "you think anyone would look up to us? if i were a kid, i'd be looking at div. 1 players, like ushijima, or something." tsukishima nods again. after all, it's only the best of the best that are featured on tv or at the olympics.

their cue to file into the gym comes a few minutes later. the elementary school kids, all six and seven year-olds, seated in crooked rows while their teachers stand behind them. a familiar face turns and catches his eye. "hey, tsukishima!"

"sugawara-san." he bows as his senpai steps forward to greet him. "i didn't know you would be here."

"i thought about letting you know ahead of time, but i wanted to surprise you." suga's grin hasn't lost any of its mischief, eyes gleaming with humor. "let's talk later!"

tsukishima rejoins his team, seated on the floor in a semicircle to go through their rehearsed talk about healthy living and the importance of sports. his part is a short spiel on what volleyball is, simplified for kids to understand. his audience is equal parts bored and captivated, the bored ones shifting around until a teacher tells them to stop moving.

afterwards, they break into small groups for live demonstrations. suga brings a handful of his students over, although they try to hide behind him. "you can't have to be scared," he says, nudging them forward. "he may look scary, but he won't bite. i'm his senpai, after all."

"sensei, you know him?" a girl asks.

"we went to school together. we even played on the same team." suga plucks one of the kid-friendly volleyballs and sits a few meters away, raising it over his head. "watch!"

they volley a bit back and forth, the kids watching in awe. suga catches the ball and gestures at another child. "hiro is actually a big fan of yours, tsukishima. he's one of the best volleyball players at school."

hiro tugs on his shirt, a sendai frogs jersey. it's hard to tell because his arms are covering the front, but tsukishima recognizes the number 17 behind it. "want to volley a bit with me?" he asks.

"c-can i?" comes the timid reply.

tsukishima nods, waiting until hiro gets into position before he gives a gentle toss. the kid receives it flawlessly. "very good," tsukishima praises him. hiro's smile widens, suddenly shy.

"mister!" another boy waves his hand. "how can i get taller?"

"you'll have to eat your vegetables and play sports," tsukishima says. "the more you move around, the taller you'll get."

"is playing volleyball fun?" another kid asks.

he tosses a ball lightly in his hand. "i didn't think so, for a long time. i started when i wasn't much older than any of you, mostly because of my brother. i kept going since my friend played with me, and if i didn't, my mom would send me to tutoring, and i didn't want that." tsukishima lowers the ball to the floor. "in high school, i met a lot of people who were better than me. it isn't fun playing a sport if you aren't good, but that just means you have to practice until you are. and then, when you have that moment of victory, you'll start to think that it's fun."

his mind flashes, a mosaic of faces and figures, a chorus of voices, a snapshot of bright lights, shiny medals, and framed certificates. he may not be at the top, may not represent his country at the olympics, but here, in this gym, he's at the pinnacle of these kids' heights, the doorway that leads them further.

"it's not just about volleyball," he adds. "it can be for anything. so long you do your best and do all that you can, you'll have fun."

the groups are dismissed, as they'll head to the bleachers and observe a scrimmage. tsukishima rises to his feet, pausing at the sound of his name. "that was great, tsukishima," suga says. "you have a way with kids."

"please don't tease."

"i'm not! i've done a few talks before with other community members, but they always forget how old their audience is. you were perfect." his senpai smiles at him. "good luck during the scrimmage."

it isn't meant to be long or exhaustive, just a quick demonstration of what volleyball can be like. tsukishima is up first with the serve, hand up to catch the ball. he bounces it a few times, moves back to prepare for his jump serve. he's about to do his toss when-

"ready, and-" in a chorus, suga and his kids shout, "tsukishima, nice serve!"

koganegawa whips his head toward the bleachers. "hey, that's no fair! cheer for me, too!"

kyoutani chuckles. "guess you'll have to ace it," he calls out to tsukishima.

he narrows his eyes in concentration, body low and ready. "guess i'll have to." tsukishima tosses the ball, makes his approach, and jumps. perhaps one day, those kids will be able to reach the same heights as him.

inspiration: this fanart of tsukishima with suga's elementary school kids and this fanart of said kids and suga posing and cheering for him <3

#drabble #flyingwargle original #haikyuu!!#haikyuu drabble #tsukishima kei #kyoutani kentarou #koganegawa kanji #sugawara koushi #post timeskip #sendai frogs #fanart august

26 notes · View notes

sagelasters · 2 months

Note

Hi! Can you please give me some scenarios for a boarding school DR?

of course! im not sure if you want romance but ill list some random scenarios below. hope you like them.

✎ got into a top boarding school where only 1% of applicants are accepted annually + cute uniforms!

✎ you volunteered as the student manager position for your school's sport team. caught the attention of the star athlete in a bad way at first, you two constantly bicker like an old married couple. they secretly care for you.

✎ joined the school's musical band because you needed extra credits to graduate. they gave you the heaviest saxophone to play with. as you struggled carrying the instrument case upstairs, a tall and strong person (popular in the school as well) helped you carry it up

✎ you kept receiving love notes with some treats and your favourite drink in your locker after school ends

✎ got full scholarship and offers from your dream university

✎ because you kept earning straight As and ranking top 1 in one of your classes, the teachers makes you tutor the hot student so they don't fail their academic classes.

✎ oh, star athlete comes to you for tutoring because they suck at their academic classes but they don't want to lose their scholarships.

✎ you're pretty much everywhere at school events because you joined so much extracurricular activities (student council, band, sport teams, model united nations, etc). because of that you're super popular and everyone knows you

✎ the hot person who loves everyone but hates only you (for some petty reasons like you stealing their favourite spot during English class). childish arguments but you both end making out

✎ your roommate is hot. yeah.

#reality shifting #shifting blog #shifting community #loassumption #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #reality shift #shiftblr

36 notes · View notes

insidethejob · 8 months

Note

I have really bad memory and can't remember if I sent a request or not but can you please make some parent yandere headcannons for reagen Ridley? Where the child was adopted by Reagen, please.

OR where a 14 year old joins the cognito task force and views Gigi as a mother figure because the mother who abandoned them acted like her? You can choose which one to do.

I’m going to do Reagan, although I do have another request similar to this

She doesn’t know what to do

She didn’t have good parental role models so she doesn’t really know where to begin on being a good mom to you

She doesn't want to be like her father, so she tries everything to do better

You've met Rand less than a handful amount of times and each other was not on purpose. Also, he was an asshole each time, considering you 'Not a real Ridley' which really pissed off Reagan

^ She almost killed him. She was throwing things at him, but missed [Because she's not very good with athletic stuff]

^ "If you ever come near me or my daughter again, I will kill you."

Type of mom to embarrass you in front of your peers

She tries to do everything her father DIDNT do

She can be overly clingy and affectionate which is so unlike her usual personality (Gurl just doesn’t get social cues)

Tons of hugs and kisses on the cheek and forehead

You’re the only one she puts above work

If you’re sick or not feeling good, she’s off work and getting you from school to take you home (or just taking off work to take care of you)

She doesn’t care to much if you’re smart, in fact she encourages you to be like everyone else. She wants the absolute best for you

If you play sports, she goes to your games. Reads a whole bunch of books about them, so she can rig watch them. You haven’t lost a single game since she’s started showing up!

^ She doesn’t understand why you like the sport, but she still supports you

Is always the loudest because she wants everyone to know that she's proud of you

She goes to every assembly, award show, recital, etc that you have. She doesn't want to miss out on anything

#inside job #reagan ridley #adopted reader #inside job headcanon #inside job headcanons #inside job netflix #inside job x reader #mother reagan ridley #mother reagan

54 notes · View notes

wolfythewitch · 2 years

Note

We’ve heard about phil and kristin, but what was wilbur like pre-zombies

Hmmmmm

A smartass /j

His room is really cluttered, filled with random trinkets he thinks are either cool or funny. Those wooden models of ferries wheels or hot air balloons you assemble yourself, an old train model Phil managed to find on Etsy, Kristin's more vulgar/stupid wine mom signs that he thinks are hilarious. He's one of those awkward kids that are generally well liked, but not outstanding. He isn't interested in school all that much, the highlights of his day either in music class or when they get into anything history/geography related. Doesn't seem like it but definitely willing to throw hands if given a good reason. He looks more like his mom, which Phil likes to point out, and Kristin will always reply with "that's why he looks so handsome". He doesn't curse as much as his parents but he does it on occasion. Currently, he's pretty short, even for his age, but Kristin swears and bets 20 bucks that before 18, he'll have outgrown his dad. One day, he wants to start a band. One day, he said one breakfast, he'll be so famous that Phil and Kristin will be able to retire early and live off his riches. That's great, Phil replied, you've got a milk mustache. Gets embarrassed really easily, and would rather eat raw chicken nuggets than tell the waiter that the nuggets were raw. This was how he got food poisoning when he was ten. Hates Phil's jerky with a passion. He's got a good amount of friends, but they're all either jocks or athletes and he's the odd one out. No one minds, it's just very funny to see. That does mean he's invited to a lot of soccer/basketball games. He ran for class president once, got kicked out of the running cause it was found out that he bought votes. Gives really good hugs

#wolfy tedtalks #anon #zombie au

378 notes · View notes

jq37 · 8 months

Text

The Report Card – Fantasy High Junior Year Ep 3 Fast Times at Fantasy High

Welcome back to Fantasy High! It’s a very exciting episode because something that we rarely see in this show about high schoolers studying at an adventuring academy is happening: The Bad Kids are actually going to class.

But first, they have to get to school. Riz, unsurprisingly, arrives first. On a big old 30 Investigation roll (+11 to a 19), overnight he did a deep dive into what everyone needs to do to get into a good college. Fig is actually doing great. If she would just go to her classes, she’d be fine. Kristen on the other hand is in serious trouble seeing as allowing your god to die is pretty much an auto-fail for a cleric. Fabian and Gorgug are both solid students with good extracurriculars. Their main hurdle is going to be the MCAT–the Multiclass Achievement Test. In order to multiclass, you need to get permission from your current advisor and pass the test. Then you can take 3/4 of each track for a 150% course load. And then, of course, he and Adaine are the party nerds so they’re doing great. They could maybe add some extracurriculars but they’re model students.

RIz also has done some research about possible college options: Astral State University (where they visited in the one shot), CUS Dabus (in the City of Doors), Bastion City University (who are doing big, world changing stuff), the Society of Shadows (the rogues only group that forces you to leave your life and friends behind that Penny Luckstone refused to join in The Seven), and–most hilarious but also saddest–Lord Salazar Edge's College of Lone Adventurers (which we learn in the AP was a Murph pitch, lol).

Back at Mordred, Adaine is doing her best to get her less studious friends up and ready for school, going as far as casting Friends on them to get them in the car. Fig willingly fails and Kristen–who really wants to be convinced–sets the DC at 10 and gives Adaine the Help action. Before they get to the car, Lydia (Ragh’s awesome mom) slaps a toxic looking blue energy drink from Kristen’s hands and gives them all full trash bags full of food for lunch (she’s used to feeding half-orc athlete Barb Ragh, not three spellcasters).

Jawbone loads them in the car and, on the way to school, they hear the song of the summer which is this emo anthem. When they meet Riz, he’s super excited to see everyone and show them their dossiers. He even made one for Adaine just for fun even though she doesn’t need any help and she loves it. What she (and Riz) don’t love however is Fig’s new school plan which, as we learned last week, is to enroll in something other than bard classes and then go to her bard classes (since a part of her isn’t going because she has chronic Stick-It-To-The-Man-Itis). Riz and Adaine try to figure out if they can gaslight Fig into going to her classes or hack the system somehow.

Back at the Thistlespring tree, Gorgug is doing some last minute pre-school work: creating his homunculus (which is kind of like an artificer’s familiar). It’s a hastily made archaeopteryx (flying dino thing, if you know Pokemon, think Archeops) that’s light on the feathers. He accidentally names it Cloaca (a birds multipurpose excrement chute) which his parents love because it’s spreading awareness of non-traditional bodies. Then they launch into a story about mermaid reproduction that I’m not gonna get into because not even Gorgug wanted to hear it. He’s clearly anxious about his skills because he feels his parents disapprove of the bird even though they’ve never been anything other than 200% supportive of him in their lives.

He gets a ride to school and his friends meet Cloaca, who he nicknames Chloe–the name I’ll be using even though the Bad Kids of course will exclusively call it Cloaca. Riz hands Gorgug his file which he reviews along with the letters from his parents. It’s a lot of the same info except that one of the letters is a rejection re: Multiclassing with a note to talk to his advisor (Porter, the Barb teacher who Fig hates).

Fabian shows up, starving and shabbily dressed without Cathilda to take care of him–she’s still in Leviathan. The girls share their trash bag food with him which he wolfs down gratefully. (When he mentions his parents are away, Fig seems surprised that Gilear left. Interesting to note for future eps because that feels out of character for their relationship). Anyway, he mistakes Chloe for a piece of trash because is it really the first day of school if Fabian doesn’t insult Gorgug (accidentally this time. progress!) and then the bell rings. As it does, the Bad Kids look around and realize something strange: they’re Juniors now. That means more than half the kids here are younger than them now. They’re not the Freshmen they once were.

The Sorc Prof (Jace Stardiamond) is filling in as VP while Gilear is away and as he makes an announcement on the intercom, Fig almost falls into an open construction pit (a SECOND construction based incident) but is saved when she’s hit with an armful of gym equipment instead. Put that on the Faeth luck swap conspiracy board. Anyway, Jace also says that Aguefort is gonna be out so they have a new Principal: Emergency Backup Interim Principal Grix. The Bad Kids have never heard of this guy before.

In the spot where they saw Dane and Penelope campaigning to bring back Prom Court their first year, the Bad Kids now see a table for Student Gov manned by Jawbone and a minotaur student he seems to know: Mazey Phaedra–a senior and the student body prez. She’s also based on a Scottish Highland cow which isn’t important to the story but it is important to me because those cows are super cute. Riz suggests they sign up so they go talk to Mazey who seems cool: She thanks them for saving the world, she knows Ayda, and Fabian clocks later that she’s a dancer bard. All green flags.

After indulging Fabian’s ego for a bit, the squad encourages Kristen to go for President. Before she can though, she’s beaten to the punch by a halfling student with major Tracy Flick energy who introduces herself as Kipperlily Copperkettle. Kristen immediately shoots back with, “What are you, four different dogs?” which is maybe the funniest thing a Bad Kid has ever said. The Bad Kids hate her vibes on sight but Kristen especially is full aggro. Riz notices that she’s wearing a pin of a rat’s butt being grinded between two gears and when asked about it, she says it’s Ratgrinders pin–Ratgrinders being the name of her adventuring party. They ask who else is in her party and she points out Reuben–an emo, gnomish bard who is signing autographs because he’s the one who wrote the song they were listening to on the way to school (before Kristen changed it to a health and wellness podcast).

Kipperlily (who I’m gonna call KP) is told that she can sign up but she has to find time to campaign outside of her classes. She says that won’t be a problem because she’s already aced Junior Year and she slides over an envelope to Jawbone to prove it. Apparently, the way Rogue classes work here is that the students find clues and puzzles throughout the school left by the professor but they’ve never actually met them. If a student is able to find the Rogue professor, they automatically get an A for the year and, apparently, KP did just that.

Paperwork in order, KP is about to leave but Fig stops her to ask what her platform is. Her answer: “Equality, equanimity, and fairness under the rules. In the past, there has been an eccentricity to the bureaucratic and administrative decisions of the Aguefort Adventuring Academy that has favored some students over others. Very nice to meet you guys.”

As she leaves, they hate her even more.

Adaine tries out a new trick she has which allows her to see into the ethereal plane. She sees a lot of Aguefort’s wards but also the fact that the wards are porous enough to let in ghosts because one of the professors is a ghost, though they don’t know which one. She suggests to Riz that maybe the Rogue prof is a ghost. She also sees some ghost steaks in the fridge, presumably belonging to the ghost prof (btw: steak for lunch at a high school seems wild, lol).

At this point, Fabian notices Mazey’s dancing shoes (Badidas of course) and clocks that she’s a dancer bard. He talks to her about how he’s looking to multiclass and she hooks him up with a note to give to the dance class professor (Terpsicore Skullcleaver) that says he’s a good kid. She also tells him that Jem Peppercorn (the absolute legend who stayed in the gym eating for the whole Goldenhoard fight) graduated last year and he had the party house which means there’s an opening for a new party house. And Fabian has a very big, very fancy, very empty house. Kristen does an Insight check and gets a Nat 20 to clock that yeah, there’s a little bit of a flirty vibe going on. So of course, she uses Thaumaturgy to create tremors–a move I was extremely confused about at first blush but I think she was using to give Fabian an excuse to hold her or something. Clearly, she’s a more attentive Wingwoman than she is a Saint.

Anyway, conversation finished, they go to the Auditorium where Jace announced Principal Grix wanted to give a speech. Grix is a gold, warforged spellcaster with a ball comprising his lower half instead of legs. Apparently, he was created by Arthur Aguefort to take his place while he’s on vacay. He speaks in a stilted, robotic manner and gives a speech parallel to Aguefort’s day one speech about what an Adventurer is. But instead of the rambly, unhinged answer Aguefort gave, he simply gives the Dictionary definition: One who goes on adventures. And then he starts going off about order, bureaucracy, and rules.

The Bad Kids are taken aback–even rules gremlin Riz.On a 27 to clock whether he’s been hacked (because she can’t believe Aguefort would make a robot that acted like this) Adaine sees Grix steepling his fingers and saying “Perfect order” which isn’t conclusive but is def troubling! They start raising their hands and asking Jace questions about if they really have to follow rules in a hard way this year–it still is Aguefort after all–but Grix cuts in and says that the backtalk he’s getting is exactly the problem. He casts Time Stop (a 9th level spell) and the entire auditorium finds themselves in the hall, in a single file line, ten minutes before class is about to begin. Not a great start to the year! And on a dirty 20, Kristen doesn’t see KP anywhere. Suspicious!

Riz tells Fabian and Gorgug about any extra MCAT stuff they don’t already know. He also tells the group about the Frosty Folk Festival and Gorgug mentions that his parents are hosting. Fig says she wants to maybe try out some of her new songs there…once she’s written them. Fabian asks if they can take a break from hardcore Bad Kid stuff this semester and Kristen says that’s a good point because she has a campaign to focus on. Fig declares herself secret service because, of course she does. She also announces her plan to go to Bard classes…but disguised as a new persona (Tiny Emo Girlie: Wanda Childa) so she can befriend and spy on Reuben. Riz and Adaine are at the end of their collective rope.

With his free time before the bell rings, Gorgug wants to talk to Porter to sort out the MCAT stuff. Porter lays it out for him. He thinks Gorgug has amazing, raw, natural talent and he uses his rage in a really noble way to protect his friends. But he hasn't seen him reach his full destructive potential and he’s not impressed that he defeated the Night Yorb will tools and “magic” instead of rage. He would be fine if Gorgug wanted to get some Fighter levels with Ms. Jones or something else that would dovetail nicely with Barb classes, but as of now, he hasn’t seen what he needs to see to think that Artificing classes would do anything but steal focus. Gorgug can of course quit the Barb track and move to Artificing, but Porter is not giving his approval.

Meanwhile, Fabian is having a much less hostile meeting with Terpsicore (after an accidental detour to Adaine’s wizard class because he trusted Fig–who’s never been to bard class–to give him directions). Terps is this tiny (5 ft 3in) Half-Orc with crazy, hyper positive, aerobics grandma energy who immediately breaks down Fabian’s cool guy jock persona and gets him into a dance, jam sesh with her that moves through different styles of dance and music. I can’t do this scene justice, you have to watch it. Her “Uh-oh, uh-oh! Uh-oh, uh-oh! A challenger approaches!” tells you everything you need to know about her.

By the end of the dance, Fabian has fully embraced his weird art kid energy and Terps has approved Fabian for multiclassing. It’s looking like all sunshine and roses for Fabian until Terps tells him that if he’s gonna make this multiclass thing work, he needs to be really serious. Lots of rest. Lots of healthy food. And no parties. Uh-oh indeed.

Next up, we turn our attention back to Riz who’s still in the hall and tries to steal the envelope KP turned in to Jawbone to get some info about the Rogue prof. Jawbone catches him and is good natured about it but won’t let him have the envelope: not for moral reasons so much as because a good rogue has to earn it by not getting caught.

Riz asks about KP and Jawbone says she’s a good kid but kinda Type A. He asks Riz if he’s getting some “I’m in the picture and I don’t like it” energy from her and Riz denies it. Jawbone decides to give him a little bit of a hint re: the Prof and says that KP technically didn’t find the prof. The prof found KP. But he won’t say more and he would appreciate him not saying where he got the info. The main reason he’s giving the info at all is because KP was snooping and heard him talking about Kristen’s god dying. She then asked Jawbone a bunch of questions about Kristen which he answered so he figured fair’s fair with regard to giving Riz some info about her. Riz is troubled. Jawbone tells Riz that they’re due for a heart to heart but Riz says he’s good and he’s stressed but stress is good. Yikes!

Kristen is also still in the hall and finally properly signs up for class president but, as she does, she hears some familiar voices: it’s her parents, dropping her younger brother Bucky off for his first day at Aguefort. She has serious deja vu as they’re saying the same “Don’t mix with the weirdos” stuff they said to her on her first day. Kristen fails a Wisdom save and is deeply affected by watching her parents basically bullying her younger brother who she hasn’t seen in a good bit now. The last time she had any contact with them it was just to give them her dragon gold and that was over the phone. She sees that her not being in the household to shield her brothers from her parents has led to them having to take all that parental abuse and pressure alone. She goes over to confront them feeling hot under the collar and Riz senses a crackle of something in her aura.

Cass chimes in, thinking she’s been summoned, and asks if it’s a good time for them to talk and Kristen snaps at her that OBVIOUSLY it’s not a good time. Kristen feels a spasm in her body and, for the first time, Cass snaps back at her: "Fine! I can make my own people to talk to!“ Deeply concerning, but we’ll come back to that. For now, we follow Kristen as she reaches her parents and brother. Bucky immediately goes in for the hug and seems very happy to see her. Her parents, not so much and the feeling is mutual. “Second time’s the charm, hopefully” they say, tacitly deeming her a failure. She pretends to be directing traffic so she can hustle them out the door ASAP and gets a Nat 20 to do so (rolling with advantage for reasons Brennan doesn’t expound on). Bucky says he wants to talk to Kristen about something but he’s late so can they meet up after class? She says sure thing and he runs off, his longsword trailing after him.

Kristen is left alone with her parents and it’s a bit of a standoff. Her mom asks how she’s going and seems to genuinely want to know to some degree but it’s still mainly jabs about her lifestyle and choices and leaving the church. Her dad especially comes down hard on her for leaving Helio without a chosen one and becoming a cleric to a night goddess right before they were struck with four months of night which, admittedly, is a fair thing to have questions about. But Kristen has died and come back from the dead. If that can’t keep her down, her parents certainly can’t. She pirouettes away from the conversation and heads to class (because she may not be worried about her parents but she is worried about what Cass said to her).

We hop over to the second nerd of the party, Adaine, who’s in wizard classes with Professor Tiberia Runestaff who Brennan says has “Evil Lucille Bluth” energy (which is different from regular Lucille Bluth how?). She’s a friend of Aguefort’s from the Mountains of Chaos and Adaine wants to impress her so so bad.

She starts off her lesson by saying that this year is the weed out year. This is the year that separates the paltry magicians from the truly great casters. Then, she starts listing out the materials they need for this week’s castings–a list that includes TEN BARRELS OF DIAMONDS. For ONE WEEK. Adaine may come from money but she doesn’t have access to any of that money right now. She raises her hand to ask if there’s any way she could borrow some diamonds from the school or something and basically gets a harsh, “That sounds like a you problem” kind of response that she shrinks back from. Tiberia continues to list the ridiculously expensive materials needed to continue on and Adaine knows that she can’t ask Jawbone for any of this. She resolves to call Aelwyn for help during lunch.

We then move on to a Fantasy High first: Fig going to class! Although she’s not going as herself. She’s disguised as her alter ego Wanda Childa. The professor (Lucilla Lullaby who is some kind of chill Eladrin) seems to perhaps think she recognizes her before she sits down next to Reuben. She charms him by smelling of peach schnapps and cigarettes and they have a flirty emo-off before Lucilla points out that she’s 100% not on the roster and, despite the fact that it doesn’t always seem like it, this is a school with rules. This year especially! She leaves, but as she lingers to give Reuben one last look (and sniff) she notices that he has a Ratgrinder tattoo that matches KP’s pin.

As she exits Lucilla is making a call on her crystal and there’s a good chance it’s connected to the encounter Fig has when she gets to the hall. Jace Stardiamond is leading an eagle aarakocra Council of Chosen agent (think FBI) who is investigating truancy in the area and calls Fig by name–well by pseudonym anyway. He is incidentally also looking into the disappearance of Hilda Hilda. Sensing her chickens are finally coming home to roost, Fig gives a weak lie about not knowing how schools work and skateboards away, using Cutting Words to prevent Agent Clark’s attack of opportunity on her. He vows to find out who she is as she makes her escape.

Proving you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it go to bard class, Fig goes outside to spy on her class through the window instead of attending because she thought Lucilla actually seemed pretty cool. She doesn’t hide well enough though and Lucilla spots her through the window. She’s shocked to see Fig for the first time in two years and welcomes her in like she’s the prodigal son. Fig asks if it would be weird for her to attend. Lucilla assures her that it’s the opposite of weird and, in fact, mandatory.

She settles in for her first day of bard class–this semester and ever–but out of the corner of her eye, she notices a sneering Rebuen texting someone. It’s Lola Embers. Looks like they’re signed to the same label.

Finally, we hop to Kristen who’s headed to cleric class with Professor Yolanda Badgood (a wispy air genasi). Before class even starts she tells Kristen to meet her after class. We timeskip to that meeting and, like many others in this ep, she thanks Kristen for saving the world. But she has a followup question: How did she do it when her god is dead? Kristen says she has a lot going on with her estranged parents she just saw and her scattered mind and her feeling like the stairs are disappearing behind her as she climbs. She has to update her god in the files and her address for that matter because, as we learned when she talked to her parents, all her mail is still getting sent to her old address. Her professor sincerely asks her how she’s feeling and Kristen says she’s fine but asks if there’s some kind of test she can take that will tell her what god is right for her. Her professor is like, “Didn’t you just say you had a new god???” But Kristen feels so much pressure with Cass and she mainly feels annoyed by her presence. Professor Badgood says that she’s allowed to change her god as much as she wants–she herself gave up an active relationship with a divinity so she can be kind of an interfaith minister to all her students. And she says that all faiths are trying to capture a piece of the truth–even the out there ones with evil gods and such. She recommends that Kristen spend a week earnestly trying to connect with Cass and if she still feels like she wants to split she can go from there.

Kristen has a followup question: What do you do when your god says, "Fine, I'll- I'll make new followers"? Badgood seems taken aback, and she’s even more so when Kristen says she’s been rude to her god. Kristen asks if she should apologize and Professor Badgood gives her the most gracious version of, “Duh, obviously” a person can manage. She directs Kristen to one of the million prayer rooms in the class so she and Cass can talk.

Kristen actually takes this seriously–or at least more seriously than she takes most things. She clears her mind and meditates until she finds herself in the forest of Sylvaire where Cassandra is crying to herself. A bright moon that would erase any shadow or doubt encroaches. When Kristen tries to touch Cass’s shoulder, the god flinches away and sobs that Craig–her only other follower–has joined the Wolfsong Revival. Tracker’s movement.

Cass is scared. She doesn’t want to end up dead in the Astral Realm like Yes? Kristen apologizes and says that she understands that she’s getting to point where chaos isn’t cute anymore. She follows that up by saying that her top two priorities are Cass and her student president campaign however so I don’t know how committed she is to being serious. Cass isn’t either because she flat out states that she can’t rely on Kristen. She’s so so lonely and she’s confused about why things aren’t working out. They started out so big and magical and they’re still so stuck. She thought it might be because of her somehow but then she learned about the trail of abandoned gods in Kristen’s wake and realized that *she* was the connecting factor, something that Kristen cops to verbally: “It’s me,” she says.

Cass announces that she’s getting some help and Kristen asks who. A cleric? Nope. No clerics for now. She just wanted a friend. Kristen sees her petting something invisible and asks if it’s a dog.

“I’m more of a cat person,” Cass says as a black cat fades into view.

“Hi Kristen,” Kalina says.

And that’s where we end our ep!!!! The bitch is back!!!!

Honor Roll

Riz for Thinking Of All His Friends

In Sophomore Year there was a thing with Riz’s dad where it was like, sometimes you show your love through work and, viewed through that lens, Riz *really* loves his friends. I recognize that the likelihood of his meticulous plan actually working is slim to none and he’ll have to accept that even if they all stay really close friends (which they better), they’re likely on at least slightly different life paths, I do think it’s really sweet that he’s putting so much effort into making sure that ALL of his friends are successful by the metric that he’s using. Also, the “Hi Adaine :)” binder for her was so cute. I love nerd friendship.

Detention

Fig for Hilda-Hilda-ing Too Close to the Sun

Girl the Fantasy FBI is after you!!! Just stop lying and go to class!!!!!

Random Thoughts

In the AP for this ep, Emily mentioned some cool warlock thing that might be worth taking the MCAT for and officially registering (she’s currently off the books multiclassing) but it’s never mentioned in the actual episode so I assume it got snipped away in editing.

I really love how polite Adaine is to anyone who hasn’t earned her scorn and the little moment of her taking a reasonable amount of food from the trashbag Lydia offered her and thanking her was very endearing to me.

Zac is very quick on his feet and Chloe is a GREAT save for Cloaca but it is ABSOLUTELY not gonna be what anyone calls that bird but me and him.

When Jace said over the intercom that Sorc classes are just talking about how fun and easy magic is, I’m surprised Adaine have anything snarky to say about that, lol. *I* had a comment and I don’t even go to that school.

Is anyone else getting like…Santa Clause 2 energy from the Grix situation? If that ends up being the vibe then that’s super funny because iirc Santa Clause 1 was ref’d a bunch with the oracle stuff in Freshman Year. Full circle baybee.

KP seems like she is springing into existence to fill the voice left by Penny Luckstone getting her GED and leaving. They’re like on the exact same level of one axis of a cartesian plane but on opposite sides. Both at 100% intensity but vibes in opposite directions.

I kinda wanna add a poll to this post that’s like, what is the crazier story? Mermaid reproduction with the Thistlesprings or snapping turtle man with gun up his secret cloaca story with Jawbone?

Honorary Honor Roll to Ally the person for the legendary 4 dogs joke. Honestly even funnier knowing that that’s the actual name of Brennan’s old PC. Burned the man to his face. Roasted him like corn.

OK, so what are we thinking about the Ratgrinders? Is that a ref to grinding rats for XP or more how they see other people/what they’re going to do to people who get in their way? KP is obviously very rules focused but in a Lawful Annoying way. I do think it’s interesting though. Have any of you guys ever seen the Community episode where it turns out everyone at Greendale hates the gang because they have major main character syndrome and are always forcing everyone else at school to accommodate their flights of fancy (a perfectly reasonable reason to have beef with people)? I’m wondering if there’s a bit of that energy happening here. Either way, this strikes me as a party that’s interested in exploiting loopholes and such for maximum efficiency (eg: finding the rogue prof for instant straight A’s) and that’s a different kind of maverick behavior than what the Bad Kids do which is go buckwild, breaking rules if necessary, but getting real results. It’s like the BK’s are Aguefort’s perfect party and I’m suspecting the RG’s are Grix’s. Speaking of–

A FH concept I had ages ago was rival adventuring party to the main group which has like, bizarro versions of everyone. And we may be getting that! We have an emo bard to contrast Fig’s punk rocker energy. And a rules follower (derogatory) rogue to contrast Riz who is also a rules follower (blessed). Very curious to see the rest of their party! And very curious to know if they’re Bad (™) or just annoying in a high school way. Sometimes people just don’t vibe with you.

Oh, a specific concern that I have: KP specifically asked where Kristen was able to create a god. I don’t think that’s info I want a super type A person I don’t trust to have.

Very sweet that Jawbone’s immediate instinct when he thinks an earthquake is happening is to bodily shield Fig and Adaine, his two kind daughter-figures in the Bad Kids.

Kristen says that Cass is a hard sell but I have to disagree. Look at this flyer. It looks convincing to me!

“I think songs can accomplish a lot, if you let yourself hear the music.” Gorgug :( He’s gonna show Porter this season. I just know it. I believe in you Spring Break!

Love Murph throwing in the Frosty Folk thing apropos of basically nothing just to make sure they had an in-character reason to all know about that for later, just in case. Info management! Important!

I remember Bucky being a lot younger but either I’m confusing him for one of her other two brothers or it got retconned (or Quangled lol) older to make this storyline work. Very interesting that he went in for the hug, not the other way around. Seems like at least one person missed her. With his longsword and his parents’ inclinations, it seems like he’s most likely a Helioic Paladin. I’m very interested in how they’re going to treat his relationship with Helio because even though Kristen rejected him and we’ve seen that he has some followers that range from just shitty (K’s parents) to downright culty (the Harvestmen), that doesn’t mean that all of his followers are like that and we’ve never actually seen Helio be anything but pretty chill when he’s appeared. He wants to talk to Kristen about something and my conspiracy theory brain is wondering if he was asked to be Helio’s new chosen one but he hasn’t told anyone yet. That would be very interesting and I’d like to see a storyline about the tension of K and her brother having very different relationships with the same god. The chill peace and love god might have been a great person for him to turn to in absence of his one lifeline in the house leaving. But it could also be tons of other things so we’ll see.

Wild that Kristen has pissed off or abandoned every member of that godly family (Sol, Helio, Galicaea, and Cass). She really is the constant here.

Ally says Kristen is wearing an Adidas tracksuit meaning that this world canonically has both Adidas and Badidas.

It’s a funny moment when Terps is like, “Is there harm in your life? ”to Fabian when he mentions eating food out of a trash bag but like, the kid isn’t doing *great*. Def some neglect happening and he said he was wearing yesterday’s clothes and still banged up from the Night Yorb fight. If I was a teacher, I’d have questions too!

Yolanda Badgood. Terpsichore Skullcleaver. Lucilla Lullaby. Most of these professors are named like My Little Ponies and I love it.

When Lucilla say “Wanda” it seems like she briefly (correctly) thought it was Fig which is funny because it paints the picture that she’s been actively waiting on pins and needles for her to show up for the past two years. It’s funny because she’s not a missing person. She’s highly visible both from saving the world and being a rockstar AND both of her dads work at your school! Just get in touch!

Really hope Adaine follows up on the Aelwyn conversation because I wanna see two kids raised in old money discuss the price of ten barrels of diamonds.

Also lol at random things like Fabian being the FUTURE OF DANCE being pinned on Adaine’s oracle prognostications.

#Dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #d20 spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #spoilers #the report card

48 notes · View notes