#go befriend those dudes!

[takitori67]

How about more dog event and Yudhishthira is the new servant?

[thlayli-rah]

Hot take but I really do think that some of y’all need to consider how/why/when/how often you’re making fun of straight people for being straight

I do it too, I’m not going to pretend I don’t make jokes about the hets, or the down with cis bus, or whatever

But I recently befriended a cis, straight dude and I have watched him be dismissed, degraded, and unambiguously insulted for the perceived “crime” of being straight — all in queer environments where he is allegedly “completely welcome” and surrounded by “friends”

This guy is not a toxic person! But I have seen him be made to feel so small and like his comfort and safety in those spaces are conditional on his silence and acceptance of being treated like a human dunk zone, and I think that some of y’all have had so much shit from straight/cis people that the second you feel like you’ve got an inch, you want to luxuriate in the perceived catharsis of bullying someone who— actually —doesn’t deserve it

And until he very, very carefully mentioned to me in private that it makes him feel bad, I didn’t even clock that I was involved in doing that, that it had become so instinctive for me to make casual jokes like that, and that— well meaning or otherwise —I had been contributing to an environment that made someone I really really like feel like shit

So, I dunno, I think maybe some of y’all should think about that too

[tinycoffeeroom]

café de paris | max verstappen

face claim: none ᡣ𐭩

request: here !

a/n: all french / dutch is google translated blame them if it's wrong! race order is completely random here !

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

📍café de paris, monaco

liked by bffstagram, friend1 and 294 others

y/nstagram me 🤝 café de paris

bffstagram bro those croissants look Fire ↳ y/nstagram my main source of sustenance in these hard monaco streets!

friend1 i have yet to see evidence of you shaking ass on a yacht miss y/n!! ↳ bffstagram so real... we're meant to be living vicariously through you!!! ↳ y/nstagram student finance doesn't stretch to yacht ass shaking, i can barely afford my daily caffeine fix 😭

friend2 oui oui hon baguette how is france? ↳ y/nstagram never let a monagesque hear you say that,,, bro i can't fight ↳ friend2 🫡 ... how is monaco?* ↳ y/nstagram 🫡 it's good!! def happy i chose here over france, even if my wallet doesn't agree 😭 ↳ friend2 we feeling fluent yet? ↳ y/nstagram oh god no, the other day this poor old lady tried explaining how to find the art museum to me and i just stared at her like 😶

friend3 spotted any f1 hotties yet? i hear they all camp out in monaco 👀 ↳ y/nstagram considering i have never watched a Single f1 race i couldn't tell you HAHAH i'm sure they're around here somewhere though ↳ friend3 dude i told you to brush up on f1 😭 how am i supposed to come visit you and have a meet cute with mr lando norris if you don't do your RESEARCH ↳ y/nstagram damn i see how it is,,, using me to get to your vroom vroom men,,,

3 weeks later

📍café de paris, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux liked by bffstagram, alexandrasaintmleux and 270 others

y/nstagram finally found someone else to join my café de paris obsession 🥐

bffstagram next bff sweetie run while you can... ↳ y/nstagram stop scaring the pretty bitches off damn 😔 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux bffstagram she won't let me leave 😭 ↳ y/nstagram i deserve better friends ↳ bffstagram you couldn't live without us xx ♥️ y/nstagram

alexandrasaintmleux la prochaine fois, nous irons au casino ! (next time, we go to the casino!) ↳ y/nstagram finance étudiante a dit non (student finance said no) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😔 s'il tu plait... pour moi? 🥺 (please... for me?) ↳ y/nstagram pray for my wallet guys...

friend3 wdym you just casually befriended The Alexandra Saint Mleux??? ↳ y/nstagram i thought her skirt was pretty and had no idea she was like famous 😭 then we just kept running into each other !! ↳ friend3 i need to fly out to monaco damn you can't even see her in the pic but ik she looked So pretty... ↳ alexandrasaintmleux i like your friends y/n :p ↳ y/nstagram just wait til you see them drunk,,,

📍 jimmy'z, monaco

👤 alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and 2,962 others

y/nstagram started the night in a night club and ended on a yacht,,, just monaco things (apparently) 🛥️

friend3 y/n if you don't answer my texts RIGHT NOW !!!! ↳ y/nstagram 😉 any reason ml? ↳ friend3 i'm gonna swim to monaco and bite chunks out of your ankles what the FUCK ??? when were you gonna tell me you were just casually hanging with [REDACTED] ↳ landonorris i'm guessing i'm redacted? 😎 ↳ friend3 i need to go lie down ↳ y/nstagram landonorris dude 😭 ↳ landonorris was it something i said? 😉

alexandrasaintmleux meilleure amie 💗 (best friend) ↳ y/nstagram merci de m'avoir invitée ! je t'aime ! (thank you for inviting me! love you!)

maxverstappen1 was lovely meeting you last night schat x ↳ y/nstagram you too max! don't forget to send me those pics of the kids! x ↳ bffstagram kids? ↳ y/nstagram his cats! jimmy and sassy! 🐱❤️🐱 ↳ bffstagram your knack for finding cat people never fails to impress me ♥️ y/nstagram

danielricciardo dude my liver actually hurts... ↳ y/nstagram hey you're the one who suggested a drinking contest ↳ danielricciardo yeah because i normally WIN you freak ↳ y/nstagram i'm a broke uni student, my drink of choice is normally vodka so cheap it's legally paint stripper

georgerussell63 carmen's phone died but she said to remind you about brunch today ↳ y/nstagram on it!! alex is gonna come round and bring me 😊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 2,938 others

y/nstagram met some VIC's (very important cats) today! 🐱 also f's in chat for my café de paris 😔

bffstagram f ↳ danielricciardo f ↳ georgerussell63 f ↳ landonorris f ↳ carmenmmundt f ↳ alexandrasaintmleux f ↳ maxverstappen1 f

friend3 babies!! the second pic oh i could cry ↳ y/nstagram she slept there for like 3 hours 😭 managed to actually sit through a whole gp though so a wins a win! ↳ friend3 y/n watching f1?? who is she?? ↳ y/nstagram their dad forced me 💔 ↳ maxverstappen1 um who cheered so loud when i won that she woke poor sassy up?? ↳ y/nstagram 🤐

charles_leclerc i didn't know café de paris do takeout? ↳ maxverstappen1 they do if you're me :) ↳ y/nstagram the only reason i'm considering keeping him around 😉 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc and why have you never used your influence to get ME takeout café de paris "prince of monaco" ↳ charles_leclerc look what you've done... y/nstagram ♥️ y/nstagram

fan they're definitely max's cats but who is she? ↳ fan she knows alexandra so maybe they're in the same friendship group??

3 months later

liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 308 others

y/nstagram working hard or hardly working 🌸

alexandrasaintmleux quand avez-vous passé votre examen ? (when's your exam?) ↳ y/nstagram lundi prochain,,, mon ami du café me manque 😔 (next monday,,, missing my cafe friend) ↳ alexandrasaintmleux nous fêterons cela quand tu auras terminé 💗 (we'll celebrate when you're finished)

bffstagram the red bulls... i wait 3 years white man does it in one week ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ y/nstagram hey! made him wait at least 2 months :p

friend3 the f1 book.. one of us one of us!! ↳ y/nstagram apparently i can't keep saying "the one with the red cow on it" when talking about his car,,, ↳ maxverstappen1 its a bull... literally a red bull... ↳ y/nstagram blah blah blah it's red and goes moo ↳ maxverstappen1 everyday i wake up to such disrespect ↳ charles_leclerc i'm just glad someone's keeping your ego in check ♥️ y/nstagram

friend1 when are you coming back to england :( ↳ y/nstagram i'm hoping to come visit next month! ↳ maxverstappen1 about that...

📍 jeddah, saudi arabia

👤 redbullracing, mine liked by redbullracing, y/nstagram and 1,928,385 others

maxverstappen1 First P1 of the season at the first race! Always grateful to stand on that top podium, especially today 🙂

see 14,936 other comments

fan sorry WHO is that in the third pic????

fan bro soft launching on a race win post...

y/nstagram trots op jou ❤️ proud of you ♥️ maxverstappen1 ↳ fan 🤨

fan did you guys see the way his girl jumped the fence to get to him after he won? relationship goals fr

schecoperez another red bull 1-2! 💪 ↳ maxverstappen1 you gave me a run for my money at the end there old man! ↳ schecoperez less of the old thank you

redbullracing rue when was this ↳ fan admin finding out about max's relationship at the same time as us is so on brand ↳ redbullracing and here i thought we were besties 😔 ↳ maxverstappen1 😉

danielricciardo you look hot in the second photo and it's not just the heat 😍 ↳ fan maxiel lives on ❤️

fan he tagged her as mine BROOOOOO who's got this man so down bad??

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, bffstagram and 194 others

🔒 y/nstagram account locked DOWN but it's so worth it for you ❤️

maxverstappen i'm sorry liefje i should have thought about this before inviting you... ↳ y/nstagram i don't regret going maxie,,, and i certainly don't regret hugging you after the race,, i knew what i was getting into, it's just a lot ❤️ ↳ maxverstappen1 ik ben gek op jou ❤️ (i'm crazy about you) ↳ y/nstagram mijn charmante prins ❤️ (my prince charming)

alexandrasaintmleux you do what's best for you ma cocotte 💗 honestly going private at the start of mine and charles' relationship was one of the best things for us ↳ y/nstagram the woe of being a wag 😔

daniel.jpg dude can you accept my follow request ↳ maxverstappen1 you followed her from your jpg acc but not your main? ↳ daniel.jpg never said i was smart ↳ charles_leclerc ^ ↳ georgerussell63 ^ ↳ landonorris ^ ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ maxverstappen1 ^ ↳ y/nstagram ^ ↳ oscarpiastri ^ ↳ daniel.jpg oscarpiastri HOW DID YOU GET HERE?? you haven't even MET y/n yet ↳ y/nstagram that's my son watch your tone. ↳ daniel.jpg i am very sorry miss y/n l/n PLEASE let me in ↳ y/nstagram oscarpiastri shall i? ↳ oscarpiastri lemme think on it ↳ daniel.jpg i hate it here

📍 suzuka, japan

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 1,394,582 others

redbullracing a quick look into max's garage! already over halfway through the season and your current world champion is on track for his 4th year running 💪

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maxverstappen1 you know how we do 👊

fan i see a y/n at the back!! ↳ fan who is y/n? ↳ fan his gf! she was first spotted in jeddah and she's been to quite a few of his races this year! ↳ fan do you have her ig? ↳ fan y/nstagram but it's private!

fan 4 time world champ incoming! ♥️ redbullracing

user lewis is gonna reclaim his title! ↳ fan ok gramps lets get you back to the home

fan best team in the world

user oh the gold digger is back ↳ redbullracing blocked, deleted and reported ↳ fan red bull stand on business ↳ redbullracing no one messes with OUR redbull girl! 👊

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 274 others

🔒 y/nstagram did you know red bull gives you wings? 👼

maxverstappen1 must have taken you forever to think of that caption ↳ y/nstagram what can i say you're dating a comedic genius

friend1 damn ma lend me one of those jackets xx ↳ y/nstagram omg pls take one he won't stop giving them to me,,, ↳ friend1 i'll take the white cap too if you're offering 👀 ↳ y/nstagram 🫡

bffstagram the third pic... y/n STAND UP ↳ y/nstagram he has the prettiest eyes 😍 my man my man my maaaaan ↳ bffstagram we've lost her boys...

alexandrasaintmleux i see the ferrari jacket 👀 ↳ y/nstagram max nearly threw me out of the room fr ↳ maxverstappen1 you deserved it ↳ maxverstappen1 also i'm burning it when you're not looking ↳ y/nstagram charlie gave it to me :((((( ↳ charles_leclerc yeah max you wouldn't burn sweet charlie's jacket would you? ↳ maxverstappen1 i'd burn you IN the jacket if you don't stop ↳ charles_leclerc 🫦 damn i love when you talk dirty to me ↳ y/nstagram ,,, alexandrasaintmleux should we leave them to it? ↳ alexandrasaintmleux after what you showed me on tumblr... yeah maybe we should

daniel.jpg loving the drip ↳ maxverstappen1 has she still not accepted your main follow request? ↳ daniel.jpg no... i know it's oscars fault somehow ↳ oscarpiastri why am i catching strays? ↳ y/nstagram i watched baku 2018 ,, you're lucky i don't block your jpg account ↳ daniel.jpg THAT WAS SO LONG AGO LET ME INNNNNNN

📍 zandvoort, the netherlands

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by y/nstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1,998,928 others

redbullracing and maxverstappen1 getting P1 and being crowned a 4 time world champion at the final race of the season AND your home race? max verstappen we tip our hats to you 💙

see 98,284 comments

fan him lifting the trophy and mouthing "this is for you" to y/n i am so lonely oh my god

y/nstagram mijn kampioen ❤️ (my champion) ♥️ redbullracing, maxverstappen1

fan max verstappen world domination!! lets go champ!!!

fan y'know maybe the dutch national anthem isn't too bad...

👤 maxverstappen1 liked by bffstagram, maxverstappen1 and 290,948 others

y/nstagram i moved to monaco for a degree in french and fell for a dutchman,,,

max, it has been a privilege to know you, to share your happiness and to love and be loved by you. watching you do what you do best fills me with so much joy and i can't wait to see you dominate the track for many more years. here's to you. ik hou van je, mijn kampioen ❤️ (i love you, my champion)

(also hi fans of max, i am very scared about being perceived by so many of you, please be nice ❤️)

maxverstappen1 mijn hart en ziel, ik weet niet hoe ik het in het Engels moet uitdrukken maar bedankt dat je in mijn leven bent gekomen, je maakt alles een beetje mooier. ik hou van je ❤️ (my heart and soul, i don't know how to express it in english but thank you for coming into my life, you make everything a little brighter. i love you) ↳ y/nstagram maxie 🥹 can't wait to celebrate you tonight ❤️

fan hi y/n!!! glad you felt comfortable enough to come off private! we're a nice bunch i promise! (at least most of us are) ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan also if anyone is mean to you i will do something that puts me on the national news 🫶

fan we've only seen glimpses of her on tv, max you bagged a baddie DAMN ♥️ maxverstappen1

fan mama y papa ↳ landonorris real ↳ oscarpiastri real

danielricciardo I'M IN !!! ↳ danielricciardo WAIT YOU WENT OFF PRIV??? y/n thats so mean wtf :(

alexandrasaintmleux mon couple préféré 💗 (my favourite couple) ↳ y/nstagram c'est grâce à toi alex, je t'aime 💕 (it's all thanks to you alex, love you)

👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 1,386,297 others

maxverstappen1 an appreciation post for mijn liefje. being able to put up with me dragging her halfway across the world nearly every month so i can drive fast cars whilst studying for her degree. graduated top of her class (with an elective in dutch 😉). here's to you and to us. (oh and happy 11 months, i may love you a little bit) ❤️

see 10,827 other comments

y/nstagram my boy ❤️ could't have done it without your support ↳ maxverstappen1 i know, i am an Amazing boyfriend 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram

landonorris congrats y/n! knew there had to be a big brain in that ol' noggin of yours ↳ y/nstagram thanks lan! maybe i can actually teach you some french now 🤓

fan taking a long walk off a very short bridge

redbullracing congratulations to the brains of the couple! hoped you liked the gifts 💙 ↳ y/nstagram a dutch for dummies book, you think you're so funny don't you 😐

fan the flowers 😭😭😭

fan doesn't post about his championship but posts about his girl... need me a man like that

[wonderjanga]

Why’re You Friends With All These Psychopaths?!

Marvel is friends with a bunch of, well, to be quite honest, crazy, weird, or strange people.

Vicky Vale: “This just in, we have reports of Captain Marvel eating tacos with Man-Bat on the roof of Wayne Enterprises.”

Marvel and Man-Bat: *lowkey chilling*

Man-Bat: *getting a little jumpy every now and then when it hears more people coming*

Marvel: *patting it’s chrome dome to calm it down*

Later…

Batman: *appears out of nowhere* “Captain. What are you doing with, Langstrom?”

Marvel: “Langstrom? That’s his name?” *still patting Kirk’s head so he doesn’t fly off*

Batman: “Yes-” *does double take* “Are those blood bags?” *points to some nearby blood bags next to the two*

Marvel: “Huh? Oh yeah, they are.”

Batman: “…why do you have blood bags? More importantly, how did you get them?”

Marvel: “The vampires in Fawcett, just buy it from stores so I got some from there. And I brought it because I thought my friend here wouldn’t eat the tacos without it.”

*silence*

Batman: “Right… so let me just…” *walks over and injects Kirk with the serum*

Man-Bat: *changes back to his shriveled little old man form*

Marvel: “He’s a human?!”

After that, Bruce took Man-Bat back to the Asylum. Now, whenever Kirk would transform back into a bat he’d fly over to Fawcett so he could hang out with Marvel and every single time without fail, Bruce has to go over there and bring him back to Arkham.

or

Some Time When Jason was with the LoA…

Ra’s Al Ghul and Marvel: *sipping tea together*

Jason Todd: “Ra’s- Captain Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh?” *stares for a solid second* “Robin #2?”

*silence*

Marvel: “It really is you! Come sit with us!” *pats the table and magics a chair and another teacup*

Jason Todd: *slowly walks over and sits down* “How do you both know each other?”

Marvel: “Well, I was investigating the Lazarus pits and we met each other. From there, we just clicked!”

Jason Todd: *looks to Talia*

Talia Al Ghul: *shrugs and pours Jason some tea before refilling her own cup*

Talia is just glad her father has someone to talk with that’s actually a decent human being and isn’t in the league.

or

Guy Gardner: *burst through saloon doors* “You’re all under arrest- Cap?!”

Marvel: *waving* “Hey, Guy!”

Alien Terrorist Group: *all see Cap wave so they think the Guy’s good* “Hey, Guy!” *also wave*

*silence*

Guy Gardner: “Cap, can we talk outside for a second?”

Marvel: “Sure!”

Outside…

Marvel: “So what’d you wanna talk about?”

Guy Gardner: “Dude…” *floats so he can put a hand on Marvel’s shoulder* “Why the FUCK ARE YOU HANGING OUT WITH TERRORISTS??”

Marvel: *confused* “Terrorists? Who are the terrorists??”

Guy Gardner: “Wha- THOSE ASSHOLES!”*points to the alien saloon*

As for how Marvel befriended all of these people/creatures. It’s his overwhelming niceness.

[lemon-limess]

Yandere Harem

Being in high school, you've had your ups and downs; being the best in your sports team, having an amazing childhood best friend, being teased occasionally, and living your life. It wasn't always like this, a few rumors said here and there, spread by the ones you thought you knew and next thing you know, you're spiraling.

Now that you're in college, you were able to leave them behind and now that you trying to live your life without the cruel past weighing down on you, old mistakes start sprouting in hopes to befriend you again, but there was no going back to fixing things.

Your partner in crime, aka your childhood best friend since 2nd grade, the one you befriended after standing up to some bullies and then promising each other to never be a bystander.

The boy who broke that promise.

He's been avoiding you since he got a girlfriend, always ditching you last minute, dry texts, ignoring you in public before you toss your hands in the air in frustration before walking away.

This is where the rumors started. At first it was just name calling, but now it changed to whore, slut, and students started becoming physical.

You had no idea why people started calling you these names, but some student answered your questions.

"Stop trying to get in between Elijah and his girlfriend, whore!"

This was about Elijah? But you weren't trying to get in between them! I mean, sure, you did like him for a while but once he got with his girlfriend, you got rid of those feelings!

Maybe if you sent him a text to tell people that you weren't trying to sabotage his relationship, maybe people would finally leave you alone.

Oh, how foolish you were.

Not only did it make it worse, but it was also slowly starting to affect you mentally. Elijah's girlfriend seemed to have it out for you, sending screenshots, that was so painfully photoshopped, to her social media, crying about 'how cruel and a bitch you were for trying to separate her from someone who truly loves her and maybe you were just jealous from their love.'

Less than 24 hours later, a group of girls managed to catch you behind the school, pulling at your hair and bag, mocking just anything about you. Your hairstyle, your weight, your clothes, etc.

You were outnumbered, you knew that sooner or later you would start fighting, they're not letting up, their mocking laughs echoed in your ears.

Then a familiar figure walks by with his friends, laughing at a joke someone had made. With one last line of hope, you take a deep breath and call out to him.

"ELIJAH!"

Hearing someone shout out his name, Elijah turns his head and is faced with you cornered against a wall, surrounded by girls who he has seen his girlfriend hang out with sometimes.

He knows he should do something; he should help you! He made that promise with you to NOT be a bystander.

"Oh look! Isn't she that one slut who's trying to get between you and your girl?" One of his friends mocked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Dude, just leave her, she's just getting what she deserves."

With a strained laugh, Elijah turns to quickly leave the scene but was once again stopped by you. "Y-yeah..."

"ELIJAH!" You cried out, blood turning cold. "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!"

He doesn't turn back, walking faster as his 'friends' laughed and jogged to catch up with him.

After the beating you received, you stayed home for a few days.

Once you returned to school, you put your attention onto the sports team you were in. You weren't going to let Elijah's betrayal bring down all your progress.

You were good, it took your mind off of things happening with school and whatnot. Your team did say a few things here and there but stopped quickly after what happened to you days prior.

Your team caption was a nice guy, always encouraged you and your team, and always had a shoulder to let you cry on whenever you felt like you're dragging the team down.

Now since you returned to your practices... things have changed with him. What's weird is that it was only towards you, not the rest of your teammates.

Milo's 180 threw you off, from cheering you on and handing you your favorite snacks randomly because he 'got the wrong brand' to just barely acknowledging you but whenever he did acknowledge you, you were thrown insults of how your form was off, how you were supposed to be defending the goal.

How you were bringing your team down.

It was so much worse outside of practice. Whenever your team hung out around town to celebrate a win, Milo would be the first to complement each girl and then turn around to spew on how you could've worked harder.

After another one of your teams wins, you excuse yourself to use the bathroom and shortly after you returned, you overheard Milo talking about you to your team.

"I might have to talk with the coach to kick [Name] off the team, I'm sure you all know about her... reputation going around school and I don't want that affecting the judge's opinion on the team when we go to the finals."

Your teammates argue with him, disagreeing but he ignores them, shrugging as he shoved more food in his mouth. "I'm just looking out for the team."

Your chest aches, did Milo really feel like this? This team was your world, and he wants you kicked off because of your reputation? Even though you were busting your ass to help bring this team to the finals and THIS is what you get in return?

Taking a deep breath, you count to 10 and exhaled, before stepping around the corner to meet your team with a smile on your face. "Hey, guys! Hope you didn't take a bite from my food."

Fine, you'll prove yourself to your coach and take everyone to the finals and rub it into Milo's smug face.

It was a long cruel journey, thankfully, your coach disagreed with Milo's judgement and allowed you to remain on the team. And with your team, you all stood in 2nd place. It wasn't a total loss, but you were happy with the results, shrugging with your team as you stared at the winners.

Then Milo ruined the moment.

"It's all your damn fault!" He hissed at you, your teammates looking at him in confusion. "If you were dropped from the team, we could've won first place! But NO! The coach wasn't able to see that!"

Then he points his finger at you, sneering. "I bet you slept him so you wouldn't be kicked out, aren't I right? You goddamn WHORE!"

You gasped at the accusation, your teammates looked ready to kill Milo for saying such words. "Is that what you think of me, Milo?"

"U-Uh, well..." He stuttered, now realizing what he said. "I didn't- I didn't mean to say that I just-"

"You know that I told you that the rumors were false!"

"Y-yeah I know that-"

"You know I am not like that!"

"W-wait let me speak damn it!"

"YOU KNOW THE BULLSHIT I HAD TO DEAL WITH?" You screamed, tears spilling down your cheeks. "After I got beat up, I was hoping things would be different if I explained my side of the story, everybody would see that I'm not like that!"

"But-" You sobbed, Milo looked at you with regret. "Out of everyone, I was hoping you would believe me, I guess I was wrong."

Wiping your tears with the back of hand, you turned to your teammates with a sad, wobbly smile. "I think I'm gonna head home, guys, you could uh, just celebrate without me."

Then you walked off the field.

It's been almost two years since you graduated high school and went off to college. You deleted any remaining online presence you had and made new ones, hoping to fully escape your past.

You managed to study at a college near your apartment complex, becoming quick friends with your neighbor after getting your mail mixed up a few times.

During the few times you chatted with each other, you learned a few things from Ivan; he worked at your favorite coffee shop, you have him in a few of your courses you're taking, and he's studying to become a vet!

During months, you managed to befriend the shy man. Some days when you had class together, he would bring your favorite order from the cafe along with a treat.

He became your rock, and you become his.

But alas, all good things must come to an end when you bumped into a familiar man.

"[Name]? Is that you?" They asked, shock and disbelief in their voice. "Oh wow! It's been a long time! How have you been?"

Crap it was Elijah.

You shrink away from his close proximity, he takes notice and backs away, albeit unwillingly.

"Yeah, it's been fine." You rushed out, glancing at your phone after it vibrated from a notification. It was Ivan. "But I gotta get to my class."

"What? But we barely chatted!" He whines, pouting his lips in hopes you'll stay for a few minutes. "You're not gonna spare a few minutes to hang with your best friend?"

You froze.

Best friend? The only person who you consider your real best friend is Ivan. And you've only known him for almost a year! The nerve Elijah had, acting like the last few years of high school didn't happen.

He doesn't know what it feels like to ignore the rumors, how people you tried to befriend steered clear of you, or how you spent your lunches eating in the bathroom!

Enraged, you spun around and shoved a finger against Elijah's chest. "Don't give me that 'best friend' bullshit. You stopped being my friend when you left me with those group of girls nor did you even defend me from those rumors."

With each word, you jabbed your finger harder and harder, pushing Elijah against the wall. "And I'm pretty sure your girlfriend wouldn't want you around me, she might think I'll get in between your oh so sweet relationship."

"You're practically a stranger." Backing away from Elijah, his expression unreadable. "Stay the hell away from me."

Elijah watches you walk away from him, a guilty look in his eyes. He knows he fucked up and he knew you didn't want to see his face again, but he hoped that since became a better person since graduation that you'll start letting him in your life again.

He even broke up with his girlfriend after she spread those fake screenshots. Elijah curses at himself for not reaching out to you after you were attacked. Now he has to watch you leave from his life again-

Who's that?

[Name], who the fuck is that with you?

The man grits his teeth as he watches the stranger wrap his arm around your shoulder and guide you into the college building.

nononononono, there's no way you replaced him that easily. He could still redeem himself! Just give him some time and soon you be laughing with each other like you used to be! How it was meant to be!

The man watches the two of you walk deeper into the building, Ivan turning to send him a smug look. Rage burning in Elijah's eyes.

"I will make that happen."

"So, you pet sit in your free time?" You clasp your hands together in awe. "I'm so jealous!"

Ivan flushes, gripping on the dog leashes tighter at the adoration in your eyes. It was mostly for the dogs and not towards him.

"Y-Yeah, but honestly, it's a lot of work and having you with me lessons that load and thanks for coming to the park on such short notice." He stammered, bashfully smiling at you. You wave off his appreciation.

"No worries, I'm glad to help a friend out and petting dogs is such a nice reward in return." You smirked, reaching down to rub a German Shepards ear, the dogs tail wagging happily at your affection.

"You're a reward..." Ivan mumbled.

"What was that?" You asked, lifting your head to him, hand still petting the dog.

"What was what? Anyway-"

A soccer ball bounces off your shin. Turning, you picked it up and looked around for the owner.

"E-Excuse me miss; that's my ball." A little girl shyly points at her ball, tapping the top of her cleats into the grass.

"Oh? Here you go!" You hand it over and she gratefully accepts it before noticing the dogs surrounding you three.

"OH EM GEE!" She squeals, hopping on one foot then to the other. "Are those doggies? Can I pet one of them?"

You turned to Ivan who gives his nod of approval. Giggling, the little girl sets her ball next to her as she kneels down to start petting at any dog her tiny arms could reach.

"Wow, your doggies are so cute! Do you guys have a favorite? My favorite is the husky! Do you guys dress them up for holidays? How much does the vet bill costs? -" And she continued on and on until she heard her name.

"Lily? Lily, you need to get back to practice!" Jogging to the group was another familiar man you hoped you wouldn't see.

There in all his glory, stood Milo.

He scans Lily for any injuries, then to Ivan, then finally his eyes settle on you, he immediately recognizes you.

"O-oh! [Name], is that really you?" He asks, eyeing you. "Man, you changed a lot. It's been forever!"

"Likewise," You murmured, hooking your arm around Ivan's elbow and turning to leave. Ivan flushes at the contact but follows you regardless.

"Woah, woah!" Milo walks in front of you to prevent you from leaving. "Why the sudden rush? Didn't I always tell you to take your time when the ball is in your court." He snorts at his small joke.

You rolled your eyes with a groan. "Last time I checked, someone wanted me kicked off the court." And shoved your way past Milo.

Milo cringes. Yeah, he saw that coming.

"Look I know I said some very... very awful things to you and I know there's no way you could forgive me for saying them, but can we please start over?" He whispered to you and away from Ivan's prying stare.

You pause, thinking about what he said. Should you really start over with him? No, you promised to distance yourself away from the past and if you were to start over with Milo, you're just bringing an old brick to a new building.

"No thanks," You go around Milo but he cuts you off again.

"B-but why? We could go slow and m-maybe play a scrimmage like we used to back in high school! You loved doing that with the team!" He stammered, hoping you would stay.

"Milo, I stopped playing that sport," You shove him aside. "I lost my passion for it."

Milo's heart drops.

That wasn't because he was harsh on you? Right? He was just looking out for you! Like what a team captain should do!

"A-are you sure? Maybe you're just burnt out!" He reaches out to you. "I'm sorry for being so harsh on you-"

Ivan quickly reaches over to grasp Milo's wrist, squeezing it in warning.

"Don't touch her."

Lily watches the dispute happening, worry in her eyes to which you notice.

"Ivan let him go, he isn't worth it." You murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder, calming him down enough to release his harsh grip on Milo.

"You should go back to your practice, Milo." You muttered then walked past the man without letting him speak. Ivan shoves his shoulder against his, throwing a glare at him as he walked by.

Milo shakes, in rage or despair, he has no idea but what he does know is that he absolutely despises that Ivan guy.

Who does he think he is?

"Uh, coach, should we go back to the team?" Lily asked, not noticing Milo's raging form.

"Yeah- sure, let's go." He murmured, thoughts on you and Ivan.

"I'm gonna kill that bastard." Milo promised under his breath.

"Soo," Ivan drawls out, thumb rubbing the outline of the cup of coffee in his hand. "What was all that about?"

You groan, resting your head on his coffee table. "Just a bunch of shit I left behind but apparently not since they came biting me in the ass."

"It's a long story," Ivan nods and slides closer to you after setting his cup down.

"Alright, I won't push you to share but just know this." Wrapping his arms around you, Ivan embraces you in a soft hug. briefly sniffing your hair.

"That I will always be by your side." He murmured, smiling once he feels you reciprocate his hug. "Got that?"

"Mhm," You buried his face against his chest to hide your flowing tears from him.

He coos, rubbing your head.

What he didn't tell you was that he has always been by your side. You just didn't notice, silly goose~!

He was sure you would notice those group of girls who brutally beat you behind the schools were soon expelled. Or how those group of guys who thought you were easy because of those harsh rumors were placed in the hospital.

You didn't know that Ivan took care of everyone who dared to bully you. But that's okay! It was all worth it in the end because he has you in his arms!

The only problem he faces now are those two dumbasses. He figured they'll go to different colleges but was angry when he found out Milo and Elijah both attended the college you're going to!

Ivan could only do so much to avoid crossing paths with them with you.

As long as they don't interfere with his plans for you, then they'll live.

For now.

My tip jar! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[itoshiabi]

Just imagine being Isagi's girlfriend

He's the nicest person ever—total green flag! You already know he's going to be the best husband and father someday. No doubt about it.

But… sometimes you used to wonder why his teammates gave you those weird looks whenever you gushed about how sweet he is. They'd just mumble stuff like, "Yeah, well… you never saw him angry. His words literally shattered my dreams."

And now? Now you get it.

It wasn't even a big deal. Just one of your childhood guy friends from kindergarten—you've been buddies forever, always teasing each other like usual. So when he suddenly popped up at the café while you were waiting for Isagi, you didn't think much of it. He started teasing you, like always.

But Isagi? He had no idea who this guy was. And in his head, all he saw was some random dude bothering his one and only love.

So what did he do?

He grabbed your friend by the collar, stood him up, and stared him down with an expression so cold, you almost felt sorry for the guy. Then he said things—humiliating things—that made you wonder if your friend might need therapy after this.

And when he was done? He turned to you, wrapped you in a protective hug, and asked in the sweetest voice,

"Are you okay, love?"

Yeah… now you understand what his teammates meant.

You were wondering, is this the same Isagi you know? But your doubts vanished when you saw his worried face and after clearing the misunderstanding, of course he apologized in the most polite way possible and even befriended your friend!

The innocent look he had in eyes as he blushed and looked away saying "Sorry... I didn't want you to scare you... I got mad because... I thought he was bothering you...."

This is the Isagi you have always known. Yeah maybe he has a dark side too......

But honestly? You don't mind.

He's never been like that with you. And you know he never will.

And you love him for it.

[bumblesimagines]

you didn't like that comment, huh.

is that what you really think of me?

you don't make this whole love thing any easier.

rafe cameron

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

(Y/N) couldn't remember when or how he managed to befriend the cruel Kook Prince of Figure Eight, but ever since the fateful day Rafe decided they were pals, he refused to let (Y/N) have a moment of peace.

No matter where he went, the menacing blond appeared over his shoulder with his fancy cartier sunglasses and stupid polo shirt-khakis combo, often complaining about one thing or another. Some days it was endless blabbering about how unappreciative his father was; other days, it was about Barry and 'their' business; but most days, his complaints involved his sister and her new friends.

(Y/N) wanted to be working on his car and listening to some good music, but then Rafe pulled up in his shiny red motorcycle, kicking up a trail of dust and dirt down his driveway. He hadn't even taken his helmet off before the complaining began, nor did he bother giving a proper greeting before rifling through his cooler for a beer can. He plopped his behind on the step of (Y/N)'s porch like he owned the place and began his usual spew. Rafe even had the gall to reach over to his speaker and lower the volume, something (Y/N) could only sigh at.

The only option (Y/N) had was tuning him out, as he did on most days. He hummed and grunted along to whatever Rafe said while he changed his car's oil, slipping underneath his jacked-up car and letting Rafe's words go in one ear and out the other. He wasn't sure if this was how Rafe treated all his friends, but if it was, it was no surprise that Barry barely enjoyed having him around. 

"And those dirty, fuckin' pogues, man. I can't fuckin' stand them. It's like, you should be thankful we give you jobs to begin with, and you repay us with puttin' a gun to our heads and- and stealing our shit and- God," Rafe sucked his teeth. "Good for nothings." 

(Y/N)'s jaw ticked, and he slid back out from underneath the car, his eyes finding Rafe's face. Rafe's gaze flickered over to him, the beer can in hand tilted to fill his mouth with its contents before he peeled it away from his pursed lips.

"You didn't like that comment, huh." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his features scrunched up from the sun rays peering down at him.

"Is that what you really think of me?" (Y/N) questioned as he got up from the floor, stained hands rubbing along his pants to faintly clean them. He arched a brow at Rafe, nearly rolling his eyes when Rafe clicked his tongue in exasperation as if (Y/N) were an obnoxious child. "A dirty, good-for-nothing pogue?"

"C'mon, man. You're not like them. You- You're different." Rafe argued with a loose shrug, a crinkling noise coming from the can when he squeezed it and tossed it back into the cooler. (Y/N) was really starting to get tired of his nonchalant attitude. "Don't be such a baby, dude."

"You ever considered that Topper and Kelce only hang out with you because you're a Cameron? 'Cause you're really fucking annoying, too." (Y/N) huffed, itching to slam the bottom of his shoe into Rafe's bike until something broke and he'd be forced to crawl back to the father he so often groaned about. Instead, he thumped up the porch steps and past the guy who reeked of expensive cologne. "You're not an easy person to like, asshole."

Rafe got to his feet, his brows tucked together in a frustrated furrow. "You don't make this whole love thing any easier either, (Y/N). At least I'm trying to make whatever 'this' is work, but you keep brushing everything off!" 

"What-" (Y/N) whirled around to face the spoilt blond, almost staggering backward from how quickly he moved. "-are you even talking about?"

"Us?" Rafe scoffed softly, unimpressed. "What else would I be talkin' about? You drink too much already?"

Whatever bubbling irritation had flared up in (Y/N)'s belly died, replaced by stunned confusion despite the sneaking suspicion he had an idea what Rafe was on about. "What exactly do you think we are, Rafe?" He asked, voice losing its previous heat and softening in the slightest. 

"I dunno... something? We've been on dates but you act like a damn prude every time I try something." His ringed fingers ran through his short strands, pushing them out of his eyes. "You're not the waiting 'til marriage type, right?" His nose crinkled.

(Y/N) wanted to laugh. "We're not together, Rafe. But, fix your attitude, and maybe we could be something."

[galacticghoste]

OK HERE ME OUT MARIA AS A LADY OF THE LAKE

she can be a mother like figure to him

im a just dump all my knowlage here it's long have fun

Shadow will be raised by her since doing some research a while back I came to find out that Sir Lancelot was raised by the lady of the lake.

Some iterations he's kidnapped or was just taken bc they lost their parents or something so dudes an orphan some mention being raised in the fay lands, and that sounds SO FUCKING INTERSTING.

So i decided to change it up a bit since there is multiple ladys of the lake in fokelore and im a sucker for fantasy

i played around with the fact that the lady of the Lake in the story lancolot is from gose by many names depending on the iteration so in this world theres multiple and one is named Vivian

Amy will still be a lady of the lake Nimue just not the one who raised Shadow, she can by a lady of the lake in training when lance was with Vivian.

also the lady of the lake shall be a fay enchantres whatever.

maybe they crossed path before as childern hehe

image lil Nimue and lil Lanc ahhh

Soooooo i may have added more since I CAN NOT bring myself to make shadow just a reguler guy bro is the ulimate life form and im sticking to those roots

IM MAKEING HIM A CHANGLING HEHEHE MEANING HES NOT EVEN THE TRUE LANCOLOT THE DUDE IS DEAD way before he meet vivian.

Since in fokelore fay or some other magical creatures would sometimes switch human babys with their own so thats what happens to lanc he's a changling who his father black doom switched a birth with the help of Gerold (idk what to change his name to) he will be a fae too.

The deal was with shadow in the throne they could use him as a puppet to do things in favor of the fae.

But things would not go as planed and so kingdom gone now and gerold is left with this changling baby who he put in inhibitor on to keep im from turning to his fae form.

So Vivian (Maria) had no idea he wasnt even the true Lancolot

Gerold just said to keep those on saying hes a cursed child. Vivian still loved him like a son nonethless rasing him to become a knight.

But one day things go south when Lanc picked a fight with some near by village kids when Vivian brought him to the human realm to still remain familer to what she thinks are his roots.

One thing led to another that village kid happen to be the child of the leader of the town who at the time would blam almost eveything on witch craft or the devil soooo yeah he dont like fae and they knew Vivian was his mother/ care taker so they belived he must be cursed so the plan was to kill both Lanc and Vivian but yeah that didn't exactly happen so they kill Vivian who left an opeing for Lanc to esccpe

She did this by pushing him to a fae circle (since in old tales they say they can be portals and whatever)

He escaped but he never saw her again he knew she was dead...

He live alone for a bit befor befriended some other orphan kids who were thieves one being Rouge the bat

yada yada yad some of the events of black knight later shadow is now a adult with vage mermories of his past he dosent even remember being rased in the fae realm just that Vivian was his caretaker and that she died Visting her lake as an adult is all dried out but people of the village have lighten up now and speak of a lady of the lake near by so shadow heads over seeking answers since his inhibortor rings are no longer being very helpful in holding back his "curse"

He belives maybe this Nimue can help him find a way to cure his "curse"

This was actually fun to write :D

[benz12313]

Pre-Relationship!Ridoc - Ridoc x Reader

Warnings: slight mentions of death, violence vague, fem!reader, some angst, swearing [Takes place during Fourth Wing]

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who spends MONTHS hopelessly pining after you, but after your initial rejection nobody knows. Like dude has his feelings on lockdown, going about his business like nothing is amiss. You only rejected him because you wanted to focus on surviving, and then it never really came up again, so you figured he wasn’t that interested and wanted to be friends instead. Little did you or your squad know, that Ridoc just couldn’t get enough of you.

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who is terrified to get rejected by you again. Like, it’s one thing when he doesn’t actually care about the person he’s pursuing, he can just push that away, doesn’t hurt. But with you? No. He’d rather get torched than hear you say no again. Instead he decides to befriend you first. Get close to you so the next time he asks you out, he’ll know how to get you to say yes. 

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who quickly figures out that he’ll never have the courage to ask you out again. Like…never. The more he learns about you the more he realizes how absolutely great you are. You help him study, and suddenly he’s so close to beating Rhiannon’s grades in physics. You spar with him on the mat, and give him some pointers on weights, hell you even start running together! It isn’t long until he’s gained muscle and speed, his previous lean form transformed into one of formidable power. All because of you. Not only that, but in those rare moments that the two of you are alone, you’re always so nice to him. So yeah, he knows deep down that he’ll never be able to confess his increasing love for you. Pining it is. He doesn’t feel even remotely worthy of being yours.  

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who doesn’t tell anyone. No one. Until, one day Sawyer and him are in the male dorms and Ridoc is laying on his bed, and just starts spewing out paragraphs about how amazing you are and Sawyer just stares in shock. Because like??? What???? Where did this come from?????? When he asks Ridoc, “Why exactly are we talking about Y/N right now?” Ridoc just looks at him like he’s dumb, “Because I like her of course, keep up man.” And then he just goes on, continuing where he left off, leaving Sawyer absolutely stunned he’d been holding this in that long. 

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who sometime right after that, stops taking anyone to bed. His friends worry for his health. Sawyer is oddly quiet about it all, the most that comes out is a snort whenever someone asks. You even ask Ridoc if everything is alright, and despite getting pink cheeks and ears he assures you that everything is fine. “Just don’t feel like it. Gets boring when you don’t have any fresh faces around you know?” Little do you know, it’s mostly because he kept imagining you in his bed, and after a misfortunate event with another cadet, where he might’ve moaned your name instead…. well best keep to himself now, or you might start getting death threats from jilted lovers. It’s all in the name of your safety after all. 

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who starts getting more protective of you, the closer to threshing you get. Dangers are piling up, and obstacles are getting in your way. You’re being pushed harder on the mat, scaring him to death the first few times you end up in the care of the healers. You’re struggling with the gauntlet training, haven’t made it up completely once yet, despite presentation being only a week and a half away. You space out in class, the pressure of it all making your grades drop. And it terrifies Ridoc, thinking he’s watching your downfall, so he tries to push you harder. Creating a barrier between the two of you that grows every day.

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who you have a major fight with, three days before presentation day. Maybe you lose a challenge and break a limb, needing Nolan to heal you. Maybe you failed that important physics test, your best class. Maybe you nearly fell off the gauntlet, right in front of him. Whatever happened, through the fear, Ridoc’s reaction is unsavory and explosive. His rare moment of anger is directed completely at you, yelling at you to shape it up or you’ll be dead. You don’t take this well, yelling back at him, asking him why the hell that’s his problem?? He goes silent at that retort. And walks away. 

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who doesn’t talk to you after your fight. Not even after you conquer the gauntlet. Not even sending a look your way when you part ways during threshing. You think he’s still mad, so you don’t push, even if you miss him. In reality he’s ashamed, and doesn’t really know how to apologize. So he leaves you be. Maybe that’ll be better. Maybe he was hindering you. 

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who loses it when he sees you ride in on your dragon. He was terrified, you had your own enemies after all. And being a woman alone was enough to become a target for some of the shitty people in this place. He’s so relieved, that when you hit the ground his arms were the first one scooping you up, and then collapsing with you as sobs wracked his body. He’s fucking crying? What?? Then he starts babbling, apologies and confessions, all mingling together as he holds you tight. You don’t really know whats going on, not able to get two words in, until you hear it. “I couldn’t lose you. Not you. Anybody but you. I love you too much…” And you lay there, in shock at the words as he continues to babble, his face hidden in your neck as he refuses to let go of you, yet still soaking you with his tears. 

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who stops talking the moment you start laughing. Freezing because there’s no fucking way you’re laughing at him pouring his heart out to you. But then he pulls back and sees the tears streaming down your face too, and the soft look in your eyes. You reach up and brush his curls out of his face, resting your hand delicately on his cheek. His heart swoons at the gesture. “Oh Ridoc,” Your soft voice has his heart thumping louder than it already was. “I love you too. Sorry I scared ya.”

~ Pre-Relationship!Ridoc who immediately turns red, but asks you out anyway. You say yes, of course, and the rest is history.  

~ I'm taking requests as well, just submit them to my inbox and I'll get to them when I have time.

~ Want to be added to the tag list? Just comment or message me! :)

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @uneducatedraccoon @nicksolemnlyswears @binksbrewcrew

[11queensupreme11]

OKAY I GOT MORE STUFF ABOUT THE KIDS!!!

these are ENTIRELY about beelcy babies btw! some are just domains and some are personality and/or domains!

luke's domains (i had A LOT of fun with these lmao): god of betrayal, thievery, chaos, hatred, broken oaths, and destruction.

do these domains.... remind you of a certain someone????? 😜

nephazor's domains: god of corruption, moral decay, sins and vices, sacrilege, and deception

DO NOT TRUST THIS BITCH. HE IS A FUGLY SLUT.

he is the most beautiful beelcy baby with the most angelic appearance ever. dude LITERALLY looks like an angel; he's got the pure white wings, golden halo, and everything!

but like his domains imply, appearances are deceiving! he is pure evil! (but then again, which beelcy baby isn't 💀). he thrives off of corrupting the innocent. everyone has desires that they keep at bay; like maybe they want to really steal that rare pearl necklace, or maybe they want to kiss that really cute girl, or maybe they hate that one teacher SO MUCH.... but ofc, they never act out on it! cuz they have morals. stealing's bad, kissing someone without their consent is bad, murder is bad. but he makes people the worst versions of themselves by turning them into thieves, rapists, killers, etc. etc.

and he LOVES it. it's his entertainment. he especially loves taking things slow without using his powers by "befriending" a human or an unsuspecting god (or becoming their lover by seducing them). putting on some false charm, makes them lower their guard. he's the perfect friend or the perfect lover. when things go bad for the victim, he'll help them by guiding them to the "right" path ("your friend was in the wrong, you were right to lash out" "you need the money, don't you? just take it from her, i'll help" "he's drunk, he won't remember if you sneak in a little kiss or two", etc), and slowly but surely bringing them to the very end where they do the one act that they can never come back from. fun, right? 💖

anyway, he's another incest freak LMAO. he loves his precious little mother 💖💖💖 his mother's just soooo innocent and sweet. it's cute really. he can't decide if he wants to ruin it or savor it 💖💖 and his sweet mother's just so fun for him to tease! it's especially funny whenever he tries to endear to her and she sees right through it, calls him out, but still continues to love him.

and she's just full of SO many dark desires. he can feel it. her anger, desperation, and pain. it's so delicious, especially when she lashes out at him when she senses him trying to bring those parts of her out and then apologizes profusely for yelling at him 💖💖💖💖

azerathiel's domains: goddess of propagation, childbirth, and motherhood. known as the "mother of monsters".

as you can tell from the domains, she's a mother, AND THEREFORE PERCY'S NOW A GRANDMAAAAAA LMAO 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

anyway, i got the idea from her pic. she's looking like she's hatching from a weird... flesh egg thing, so i got this idea of her asexually reproducing tons of evil little monsters from her body and laying them amongst her weird fleshy parts/appendages where they stay until they hatch.

so yup, percy and beelzebub now got THOUSANDS of evil lil grandbabies 🥺

anyway, she's a very family oriented goddess (duh). she's very protective and doting to her children and azerathiel's the third-born beelcy baby so she's protective over her younger siblings too 💖

but that's IT lmao. that tender side of her is reserved ONLY for her family and family only. she is ruthless to those she considers outsiders and if one were to kill one of her children -- her younger babies are weak enough for particularly strong humans in hell to kill them -- she would lose her mind from grief and destroy said killer. she'd be genuinely distraught to 💔 because humans HAVE killed one of her newborn babies, she absolutely HATES humanity.

(demons and other gods in helheim know better than to touch azerathiel's children, but humans who get hunted down by them, kill out of self-defense, not that she cares lol)

also now that i think about it, she might be the least evil out of the beelcy kids.... literally she's just out there trying to raise her babies 😭

tzammaroth's domains: god of domination, conquest (just like his gruncle adamas!), control, war, and oppression

honestly, the domains were inspired by the meaning of his name which is apparently "crowned in the blood of kings"

extremely arrogant, hedonistic, selfish, egocentric, possessive, and downright cruel and controlling. he radiates with the aura of a leader, but he is NOT the sort of leader you'd want to have. if one were to imagine dictators, mad kings, and tyrants, tzammaroth's the first face to appear!

his presence in midgard causes countries to fall to ruin and once benevolent leaders to spiral down to tyranny.

he acts like he's the first born when he's actually the 9th born. he bosses his siblings around (even the ones older than him lol). he's the god of domination after all, he's gotta assert his authority over them! just cuz they're his family doesn't mean he can't treat them like they're his subjects!

the only people he doesn't dare to control are his father and his mother. he did, however, try to use his powers to control his father, but um... that did not end well 💀 LMAO. and as for his mother, he actually cares for her so he doesn't use his powers on her. hell, he doesn't even try to boss her around 💖

he is also an incest freak. he's the god of domination meaning he wants to dom his mommy in bed

UM ANYWAY--

rozaltha's domains: obsession, love, and marriage 💖💖💖💖💖

barekith's domains: god of voracity (yes... i got the title from hsr too)

sadly, i don't have much of a personality for him yet 😭 i got 2 different versions so i haven't decided which one i wanna pick for him 💔

vorvexion's domains: god of lies, strategy, manipulation, and knowledge

this is the one named after anthonius btw! no personality for him yet sorry..... 💔

ursula's domains: god of the sea and the drowned

no personality for him yet but that's his monster form up there lol. i'm sure you understand now why percy named him "ursula" 😂

ygatha's domains: goddess of pain, torture, suffering, and the forsaken

SHE IS AN INCEST FREAK FOR HER MOTHER LMAOOOOO

okay, first off, she is a sadist AND a masochist. as you can tell from her domains, she thrives off of pain and suffering, either from herself or from others (but mostly from others teehee 💖)

now where does her mommy come in?

well.... take a look at her domains.... pain, torture, suffering, and the forsaken......... very very percy coded 💔

ygatha can sense how much pain her mother's in. percy was stolen from her original universe, all her loved ones are gone and dead, she's been raped by her own husbands and forcefully married to them, she was forced to have thousands of children, etc. etc. OF FUCKING COURSE percy would be suffering!!!!!!!

and ygatha can feel her agony and torment, and it's absolutely addicting to her. her mother's suffering is so delicious to her, she gets turned on just from the thought of it, literally fingers herself in dark corners of the castle cuz it just arouses her sooooo much 😋

she daydreams about telling her mother all about her naughty thoughts. would her mother hit her? beat her? fuck her as a punishment? those scenarios excite her. or would she break down into tears of disgust, her pain worsening at the thought of her own daughter deriving pleasure from her torment??? that's another scenario that excited her too! 💖💖💖💖💖

sharzumel's domains: god of spiders, souls, and death

(i picked spiders because his name means "the web-spinning trickster" lol)

you know how gods have sacred animals? instead of a sacred animal, he has a sacred insect: the spider (cuz duh!)

anyway, that's all i have for him 💔 no personality yet. i do plan on finding a cool spider monster form for him tho. also, i specifically wanted a spider related god cuz imagine poor percy giving birth to a child who's basically anthonius' greatest fear 💔💔💔💔

(beelzebub was definitely partying in his head tho)

yoriel's domains: god of insanity, mentality, and psyche

these were inspired by the meaning of his name "god's unravelling". it kinda gave me a "fall from grace" "descent to madness" sorta vibe!

his appearance is like a twisted version of nephazor's! while nephazor has white wings and a golden halo, yoriel has black feathered wings and a dark halo covered in thorns; and both the wings and halo are always dripping with red mortal blood!

his presence drives people from gods to mortals to the brink of insanity, but he prefers to mentally break people by himself without going the insta-crazy route lol. like nephazor, he's a patient boy who likes to take his time with things 💖 there's no rush after all, he's VERY good at making people lose their minds

he loves frequenting up in midgard. his favorite hobby to do is to pose as a midgardian therapist/psychologist/psychiatrist (he has many jobs related to mental health) and then slowly making clients worse 😭

percy is so sick of his ass 💀 every time she finds out yoriel's there, she marches right up to midgard, goes straight to one of his MANY offices and the secretary's like "sir, your little sister is here to see you" AHSFEHBV 😭😭😭😭 and he's just thinking "aw shit it's my mother again 😨"

anyway, he's another incest freak for his mother 💀

zebuloth's domains: god of insects, infestation, fear and terror, and plagues.

HAVE YOU GUYS PLAYED THE GAME "STILL WAKES THE DEEP"?!?!?! okay zebuloth was SLIGHTLY inspired by the monster in there. sorta. lowkey. just a bit. anyway, in the game, there's this crazy sea monster that attacks and infected the humans on this oil rig, and the humans go crazy and start attacking/infecting other humans. they're kinda like zombies, but less mindless -- they CAN speak somewhat.

anyway, zebuloth can mpreg himself with lil baby zebuloths (hence, "god of infestation"). more grandbabies for beelie and percy 💖

and those babies can go on to infect humans, nymphs, fae, satyrs, lesser gods and demons, basically ANY SPECIES, and take over them kinda like a parasite. the worst part is that the host is still somewhat conscious -- they can't control their bodies, but they can somewhat speak and still see the horrible shit their bodies are being forced to do (kill their loved ones, eat their loved ones, etc.)

yeah zebuloth's basically like those monsters in horror games 😭

zarabeth's domains: goddess of famine (might add more idk)

her domains were inspired by her name meaning "the barren harvest"

i don't have a personality for her yet, but i can explain her appearance at least. she has multiple "heads", but instead of like... an actual head with a nose, lips, and eyes, it's those red mouths you see in the picture. yes, MOUTHS. she has mouths for heads lol.

[evich]

It’s Rococo’s birthday, so he and his bros eating birthday cake, while Putata wanted to make photo of them, but electricity went down and he used flash.

Okey I guess it’s time to tell about the fan children a little yeeeey. From left to right:

—Kumama

The oldest child of Yukiki and Hanana and the most responsible one. He seems very serious and smart, but he is surprisingly easy to be provoked on doing something stupid, so he got the status of one of the troublemakers along with Rococo and Sho. Though he explains his participation in questionable activities by looking after his younger sister, who loves to hang out with Rococo and Sho, and he is afraid she will catch lots of bad habits from them. Speaking of bad habits, he smokes, don’t tell his parents, it would be so shameful!

—Rococo

The only child of Putata and Mekeke, who was born during his parents’ imprisonment, so first year of his life he slept in bread crumb cradle and played with broken forks, until his parents got freed (with the help of his uncle, by the way). He is very active idiot who loves to hang out with his best friend Sho and involve others in his adventures. He has a hobby of sewing and knitting things, sometimes using strings he inherited from Mekeke and then make them alive by clapping hands if he feels like it (like Putata ahah). That’s why he often gets hyperfixated on random things he studies before knitting them, like animals or clothes. But his love are Nyororos, they are his favourite and everyone knows it!

—Shylorere (or Sho, how everyone calls him)

The oldest child of Kagege and Giruru and Rococo’s best friend since childhood. He accompanies Rococo in every activity they do, always supporting him no matter what. They also tend to get extremely touchy with each other, and they both are cool with it. It’s hard to say anything about his interests, because he automatically gets interested in what Rococo is interested in right now; even when Rococo asks what he wants to do, he always answers “I’ll do what you want to do”, and when you ask about his hobbies he’ll just say “it’s not like I’m interested in anything”. So he seems chill, but at the same time very distant from anyone and anything, so it’s a mystery for everyone, how such calm individual can hand out with such loud dude as Rococo. Also he has lots of knitted toys from Rococo, literally whole room in them!

—Sunono

She is the second child of Yukiki and Hanana and the younger sister of Kumama; their difference is one year, so they hang out in one company. Her special interest are plants, so she knows a lot about them and can give good advices of how to take care of them. She is very kind and attentive, always there to support her friends, gets good grades and makes her parents proud, a little nerdy. Despite that she is not that innocent as she seems: she likes dark humour and can become a little violent when it comes to games outside or video games. She can easily come up with creepy scenarios with blood and massacre and find dark subtext in anything she hears or sees. She also tends to be very spontaneous and inventive, so she really enjoys the company of Sho and Rococo, just as they enjoy hers. Kumama thinks she takes them as role models, and believes that they are the ones who gave her those weird bad traits, cuz he she was so clean before them! (Older bro being overly protective) Hey, don’t worry, Kumama, the girl is just being herself!

—Ushurara

The oldest child of Sirara and Pururu. She is quiet and often seems to be “somewhere else”, so sometimes she is not attentive enough and often can’t understand what’s going on. She seems very lonely, because she never starts the conversation first and sometimes struggle to speak with strangers. She got befriended by Sunono, so she mostly spends time with her playing video games, reading books and fan fiction and doing crafts while watching a show. Sunono also invites her to hang out with Sho, Rococo and Kumama, but sometimes she declines the offer when she has to look after her brothers or feeling that she might soon have an episode. Sirara got rid of the parasite helmet, but its side effects unfortunately are inherited, and they negatively affect Ushurara’s life, making her struggle with daily chores, world perception and communication. But her best friend is there to support her and “her friends” too!

Who is the last one? I posted his sneak pic on the previous post, so I will also mention him here.

—Heqeqe

The only child of D. Keroro, Doruru, Shivava and Miruru. The boy had a tough past: the incident on military base that took his parents and arm away, leaving only scars and trauma for the whole life. He lived in the orphanage as a very closed and unsocial kid, feeling abounded by this world. Until the four came and adopted him. They got him new clothes, made him an advanced cyber arm and gave him wonderful living conditions in the huge house with his own room. They taught him everything they knew, so his knowledge became ahead of school program, and his physical abilities increased. The fact, that these people took him when no one wanted and spent time and resources on him, made him feel like he owes them, and his greatest fear to disappoint them appeared. That’s why he agreed on going to school, when his parents were worried that he is lack of social adaptivity. His progress is little in this, but hey, they just wanted you to find friends, no pressure!

Plus bonus comic:

[tinytennisskirt]

From Pain to Promise

Summary: based on a dialogue request- Art has been in love with you since he met you at twelve. He's been pining for six years, so it kills him when you get a boyfriend over the summer. He's your friend, he's supposed to be happy for you. Instead, he's just hurt. And jealous. Too blinded by it to see the way your boyfriend is really treating you. After a climactic event outside of a party, you're freed from it all. And Art is right there, waiting, the way he's always been.

MAJOR WARNINGS: violence, abusive relationships, mentions of unwanted sex/attempts at unwanted sex. a fight. mentions of injuries, nothing too graphic, just bruises.

Warnings: pining, yearning, angst, jealousy, mentions of drinking, a kiss. badly edited.

Kat Zimmerman had nothing on you, that was for sure. Only a few nights after his little learning experience with Patrick, you came into the boy’s lives and their worlds were forever changed. Art’s more so. It was that one fateful day when you were picking out a tennis racket, the new girl at MRTA, and those two little boys knew they had to befriend you before Jake Dalton did. Both little boys, stumbling over each other, made their way over to the rackets and said hi, overlapping pre-pubescent voices telling you their names. And you smiled, hair braided, cheeks pink and rosy, exchanging their names for yours. 

And you were friends. That’s how it was. You were friends. You, Patrick, and Art. But more so you and Art because Patrick didn’t know how he felt about being friends with girls. Especially when you were such a girl. Patrick didn’t have a painful little boy crush on you the way Art did. You told Art his hair would be perfect for pigtails and he’d let you do what you wanted, clips and bows and all, just so you’d touch him. He bragged to Patrick later that night. Patrick just laughed at him. “She put bows in your hair, dude. That doesn’t count as touching.” He was humbled. 

Patrick did feel a little different when fourteen rolled around and you had boobs, but Art was the same, if not deeper in it for you. You remained their friend. You were always around, playing with Art’s hair on the bleachers or studying with them, making sure they actually paid attention. You went to all of Art’s games and maybe, for a few split seconds, he thought maybe you liked him back. But it’s a tale as old as time. He couldn’t ever be sure, so why would he tell you and potentially ruin everything? If he told you and it wasn’t reciprocated, he could say goodbye to all the casual touching and the things you granted him somewhat platonically. 

Patrick was one of the only people who knew how bad Art had it because even after their first little incident, Patrick had once or twice heard or walked in on Art masturbating and it was a little obvious who he was thinking about. It was fine, it was nothing new. 

One thing was so very clear and that this was all just pining. Pining after you, pulling strings to be closer to you, to hang out with you. Cancelling plans, switching partners, everything. He’d go insane when your hand brushed his, he was there for you every time you needed him. And by twelfth grade, he could say he loved you. It’d been six years of pining, he knew it to be true. So when you called him over the summer to say you had a boyfriend, it just about killed him. 

“He’s really nice and he’s a tennis enjoyer, but not a player. It’s refreshing to find someone who doesn’t know every single term and I get to be the smart one for once,” you gushed to him. He was your best friend after all. You’d been friends, best friends, for six years. Art was glad you managed six years without any real crushes for more than a day and he could handle those because they weren’t real, but this was very real. Or you said so. “God, I can’t believe it, he just asked for my number two weeks ago and now we’ve been together a week. It’s so surreal.” 

“That’s great, I’m happy for you,” Art said through clenched teeth. Six years of wanting you and this guy asked for your number and had you as his girlfriend in under a week. He wondered if you’d kissed him. He remembered when you had your first kiss just after his. Just about killed him though he’d just kissed Amy White two days before and bragged about it. He hoped it would make you jealous, but you had your own beau. This was worse than that. You were going to Stanford with him in a month or two, he thought if there was any time to make that change and tell you, it would be when he saw you next. And there wouldn’t be any college dating scandals and maybe he could live happily and find some girl to forget you with, though he knew he couldn’t.

“So it’s serious?” 

“Very. I’m excited.” Just about took him out. 

He didn’t eat for maybe two days. Would have been longer if Patrick didn’t come over and force-feed him nachos. Art told him the whole situation and Patrick, who had, of course, been rooting for you and Art since finding out Art liked you, was pretty pissed off about it. The two went back and forth just emphasizing ‘six years’. Six years of what? Six years of you hugging him and playing with his hair, going to movies with him, helping him study, spending time with him alone for you to just go and find some guy on a whim? And start dating him? You were all Art had wanted and it was then that he confessed that he was probably in love with you to Patrick. Patrick wasn’t surprised, then went and stole some beers from a friend, saying they needed to drink about it. 

You still called as you usually did and Art never got to really feel himself heal when every phone call was an update and a fresh wound. The poor boy was yours and you weren’t his. There was nothing he could say to change that, he was a good friend. And he wanted you to be happy, so he kept his mouth shut. You talked about dates and how good of a kisser he was though you wished he used less tongue sometimes and every word was a papercut that added up to a bigger hurt. He had never wanted anyone the same way he wanted you and he was so sure he couldn’t. He buried his face in his pillow and got so frustrated it drove him to tears. His stomach hurt constantly and he felt like his heart was being pulled down to his stomach. 

He was a little scared of how he’d act when you talked to him in person. He just finished settling into campus, his dorm room. You’d done the same with the agreement to meet him for coffee at the campus diner. You were still you, he noted, still painfully beautiful. And you were two months into dating this guy Greg. He sounded like a dick. You said he liked country music and he wasn’t going to post-secondary, he was older and going to a trade school. An asshole. Art did his best to change the topic. 

“Mmm, so they have campus events all the time, they’re showing E.T. this Friday if you want to go.” You said. “We should.” 

“We should talk them into playing Mac and Me after. A real movie.” 

“Shut up, oh my god.” You laughed. Your laugh was one of his favourite things. He found it just a little painful to be here with you, knowing you couldn’t be the way you used to be now that you had a boyfriend. “Do you want to come with me to E.T. or not though, I’m terrified of new people.” 

“No, yeah, I’ll go,” he nodded. 

Your boyfriend visited on Thursday, so he didn’t see you then. Usually, you called him regardless of being on the same campus, but you didn’t. And then when you said you’d meet Art on Friday, you didn’t show up until the movie was half over. Art sat there, watching the movie on a stupid lawn chair with stupid Reece's Pieces and you came and joined him, apologetic. Said you were with Greg and Art could only imagine what that meant. It was too dark for him to notice how red your wrist was. 

It was Art’s first step to breaking. The movie finished and he walked you back to your dorm. “Just saying, if you have plans with your boyfriend, don’t make plans with me. I’m not that kind of guy,” he reasoned, heading up the stairs with you. He tried not to sound bitter. He was only half-bitter anyway, he was mostly genuine. 

You sighed, rubbing your left eye just a little. “I know, I’m sorry.” 

“Does he know about me?” You were quiet. Too quiet. “Y/N?” 

You bite your lip, “He knows we’re friends. He doesn’t know the full extent and he doesn’t need to! There’s nothing to worry about, but I just don’t want to worry him. He knows you’re my friend, he doesn’t know… everything.” 

Art pressed his hand to his forehead, “I’m a secret, that’s crazy, that’s… fine, I guess. I don’t want to ruin anything for you.” 

“You couldn’t.” You told him. “He’s secure. He’s good. And I’m sorry again for being late, I’ll make it up to you with coffee tomorrow if you’ll let me.” 

Art nodded in response. How could he not forgive you? How could you stand here and be so beautiful and so apologetic and have him not forgive you? So he swallowed all his words for the thousandth time. “Coffee sounds good. Bring doughnuts. Campus library?” 

“Campus library…”

“3 pm?” 

“Perfect. See you then.” You kept your sleeve over your wrist which was still pinkened. “I really am sorry, Art.”

He smiled just a little, forced, “It’s okay. I promise. But I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You said goodnight back and slipped into your dorm room again. Greg had gone out to the local bar, he didn’t come back until 2am when he said he’d be back at 12. Came back drunk and wanting to kiss you quite badly, smelling awfully of whiskey and weed. 

Art wanted to forgive you for it all, but he felt like he couldn’t. Maybe he was bitter. He was bitter that you found someone and he didn’t, he was bitter that you had someone who wasn’t him. He’d yet to meet Greg, but he wondered if you smiled at him with your eyes... or when something funny was said if you'd lean into his shoulder while laughing. He wondered if you were the same, or if it felt the same when you were alone with him- like you could say anything and be unjudged. And that any darkness could be made a joke and made better just by talking for hours. He wondered if Greg had any of that the way he had. But Greg probably had that and more and Art would have to deal with that. He felt his heart physically slow its beating as it slowly, but surely, was beginning to crack. 

You met Art the next day and of course, he noticed the hickey on your neck. It made his stomach do flips and tie itself in knots and he wanted to get up and leave, but you had the doughnuts and coffee. And he was supposed to be happy for you. He had to remind himself of that. He looked at you, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear and laughed and engaged with what he had said and you were still the most gorgeous girl on the planet. Nothing could or ever would change that. He was still head over heels and he couldn’t help it. He would call himself pathetic, he would degrade himself for still wanting you, but after six years, he couldn’t get away from it. 

Greg was over quite a bit. You never called when he was around. You said you’d come hang out when Patrick was in town but you were late again, said you tripped down the stairs and the boys thought it was some excuse for sex with Greg, but you had the injuries to prove it, so neither of them could really be mad. “It hurts like a bitch,” you huffed, sitting down with them. “But it’s fine. We should drink tonight.” 

“Your dorm room or mine?” Art replied, a smile on his face. He was happy about an excuse to drink, he was happy you weren’t late because of Greg, and he was happy you were here. 

Your eyes widened and you answered much too quickly. “Yours.” 

The three of you headed back to Art’s dorm. You lay on his bed, checking your phone every minute or so. It looked like you were getting an abundance of messages, but you were never texting back. Your phone rang twice before you silenced it. The boys chalked it up to Greg and the obsessions of an early relationship, but it wasn’t that early. At one point you tossed your phone off the end of his bed and on top of Art’s laundry. “Please, please, please, pass the vodka,” you enthused. Art and Patrick chuckled, watching you take a pretty large swig. 

“Might want to slow down,” Patrick said, looking at Art, then back at you. You were out of the three of you, the person who hardly ever drank. And here you were chugging it like water. “Don’t want to return you to your boyfriend off your ass.” 

“It’s fine,” you replied. “He’s fine, it’s all fine.” 

“Yeah, I see that,” Patrick replied, taking the vodka back from you. Art grabbed it out of his hand and took a swig equal to yours, trying to drown out the way he was feeling. You were in his bed, talking about your boyfriend. It was fucked. And it felt awful. He looked at you, clouded by alcohol and god, he wished he kissed you in high school. He wished he told you how he felt. If he had, maybe you wouldn’t be so far out of reach. It took him all his strength not to tell you that while drunk. Instead he just laid on the bed next to you, laughing with you about some stupid shit Patrick said. 

“This is why you’re not in college, Pat,” you laughed, out of breath. You had turned on your side, your hand was resting on Art’s upper arm. Patrick just groaned, laughing as he turned his head down to the floor. Art was too aware of your hand on his arm. The way it moved up and down almost the way a person would soothe another, but it was you. And this never meant anything, so why should Art let himself believe it did now? 

“You’re so smart, tell us how good you are with context clues, go-” Patrick teased. But your eyes met the clock on Art’s desk. Your eyes widened a little. You’d lost track of time. 

“Oh my god,” you said, a little bit of panic in your voice. “It’s almost midnight, fuck, I have to go.” You jolted upright and literally climbed over Art to get off his bed. “I’m so sorry, guys, I’ll see you tomorrow, please text me.” You grabbed your phone and your bag and in seconds you were gone. 

Art just shut his eyes and sighed. “I feel that,” Patrick nodded. “What the fuck was that?” 

“Greg beckons,” Art replied bitingly. “Can’t be late to see Greg!” 

“Fucking Greg,” Patrick grunted. “You want the vodka back?” 

“Yes please,” Art groaned, covering his face with his pillow. 

You returned a little tipsy to Greg, who was tipsier. You used to think he was really great. He was funny and nice and he helped you drown out your feelings for Art. It felt like a step forward, progressive, real. Like a real relationship. One you knew you needed so maybe liking Art with no proof he liked you back would be easier. It was for a moment, but bliss is temporary. 

“You’re back, doll,” Greg said, greeting you on messed up bedsheets, not even bothering to meet you halfway. “I’ve had a night. C’mere, I missed you.” You’re afraid to say you’re tired and you just want to sleep. You slink into bed with him. He smells like whiskey again. It’s stronger, more potent, and he needs a shower. The second you’re in bed with him, he’s on top of you. “So why don’t you tell me why you didn’t answer my fucking texts, huh? Or when I called you four fucking times. You know how embarrassing to call your girl and she doesn’t pick up, huh? Had to do that four fucking times in front of my friends, were you trying to embarrass me?” His hand is tight on your arm, leaving bruises, the other hand is on your hair as he keeps himself propped up. It’s pulling and you feel the headache starting. 

“N-no, I’m sorry,” you manage. “Greg, you’re hurting me, you’re pulling my hair.” 

“Thought you liked that?” He smirked. Not once had you ever liked having your hair pulled. Not once had you ever said that to him in any context. 

“You’re hurting me!” You repeated. His hand eased out of your hair but his grip on your arm turned into a grip on your shoulder, just as hard. It hurt. You could feel it bruised already. “Greg, off, please.” 

He made a noise sort of like a whine, his breath horrible. “But I missed you, thought we could have some fun when you came back.” He kissed you. He kissed you. He kissed you. You didn’t want to kiss him, you wanted air, you didn’t want his hand down your waistband. “Don’t fight, pretty, come on. I know you want this.” 

No, you didn’t. You didn’t let it get so far without a fight. You were left to sleep alone as he stormed out. You tended to the injuries from earlier, the ‘stairs’ incident, plus the new injuries you’d have to make stories for because you’d be hanging out with Art and Patrick again. But the bruise that was already forming on your cheekbone looked bad enough that you texted Art saying you couldn’t make it tomorrow and you cried into your knees. 

Makeup didn’t do a very good job, especially when every time something healed, there was something new. You did see Art a few days later when Greg had gone ‘fishing’ with a friend. The bruise on your cheek had faded, but not enough. Makeup hardly fixed it either. “Ball to the face,” you sighed, pressing your lips into a straight line when Art noticed it. He grimaced. “I mean at least my partner has upped her miles per hour but it’s…”

“Ouch,” 

“Yeah,” you chuckled, walking next to him. “So I was thinking maybe we could hang out Tuesday night.” 

He looked at you, “You have something in mind?” As if he could say no. 

“Yes, actually. It’s like an improv show thing, it’ll probably be awful. We can get candy and make fun of them behind their backs.” You smiled just a little. 

He grinned, bowing his head just a little, “Sounds perfect.” 

“Thought so,” you laughed, nudging him a little so he walked off the sidewalk and onto the grass. He tried to nudge you back, but you dodged him and he nearly tripped down the hill you were walking next to. You laughed, but it only laughed so long as his expression turned into the determination to get you back for it. He chased you down the hill until it became a rolling matter, both of you falling into the lush grass and rolling down the last bit of it. He rolled into you, turning it into a chaotic tumble that slowed to a halt with him on top of you. Art breathed out hard, eyes meeting yours, his breath smelling like the mint gum he was chewing. You smiled first with your eyes and then the grin spread up your face. “Ouch,” you mumbled, almost a whisper. His eyes lingered on yours, his face hovering just above you. 

His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and his brain told him to move, but he didn’t want to. But he had to. You were taken. It would be wrong. But you didn’t move either. You were both breathing hard, smiling at your compromising position until Art did move. Though maybe you didn’t want him to. “You’re okay?” 

“I will be,” you replied. He helped you up and once again, your faces were just inches apart. It was dangerous, wanting you. 

Greg threatened obscene things in the face of if you ever were to leave him. He’d tell your secrets, said he’d end his life, said he’d hurt you. You cried. A lot. For hours, later. He was terrifying. You cried so hard your eyes were completely bloodshot the next day. Your girlfriends were concerned, but you played it off as allergies. 

You saw Art another day and it was good to talk to him about everything and nothing. He was a good distraction from the throbbing pain in your ribs from Greg’s reaction to you mentioning a celebrity crush. He had been drunk. Too drunk. And you couldn’t get away fast enough. 

Tuesday rolled around. You kept your hair down to hide the bruise on your temple. It still ached, along with where your hair was pulled once again when you refused to have sex with Greg again. He was sitting bitter on your bed, angry still. You put on your jean shorts and a t-shirt. “Where you going dressed like that?” 

You looked up, “Like what?” 

“Why the fuck do you instantly talk back? What’s your fucking problem. I’m asking you where you think you’re going dressed like a slut?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Just getting dessert with Bea from my tennis program. She’s got this-” 

“Go change.”

You weren’t looking for a fight. You put on jeans and a sweater. It made you five minutes late to meet Art and you hated it. You looked at Art with sadness in your eyes and he recognized it but didn’t know what it was. “Are you okay?” He knew you. 

“Yeah, can we just… go make fun of bad improv?”

“I brought the gummy worms,” he nodded. You leaned slightly against him as you walked down to the outdoor theatre. You were glad to be out for the evening. Glad to be away from Greg and his anger and his hurtful words and the way he treated you. Art was the calm. He was the safety. He didn’t even know it, but he was what kept you going. If you ever got away from Greg, maybe you’d tell Art how you felt. As the feelings for Greg dissipated, your feelings for Art resurfaced. 

“The clown bit was actually so good,” you laughed, walking back up the steps of the campus theatre. ”Reminded me of what Patrick said the first time we got high.” 

His eyes widened and he swallowed the gummy worm he was eating, “Mm- I was thinking the same thing. It was him for sure.” 

“You think I’d be a good clown?” 

“Mmm, no.” He shook his head. “Your feet aren’t big enough.” 

“And yours are?” 

“One, who said anything about me being a clown and two, big feet are supposed to mean something, right?” 

You laughed, “Shut up, so boyish.” 

His hand brushed your upper arm, just slightly, and you were all too aware of it. In fact, you were all-too aware of how close you walked to him. It was always an unconscious thing. A forever type thing, always walking close, always leaning against each other in the cafeteria lines, always near each other- never near enough. He then nudged your arm again, this time on purpose, so you opened your hand so that he could dump a few more gummy worms in it and you just smiled. It had never, not once, been more apparent that finding someone to replace your feelings for Art was a mistake. Not when this boy, blonde curls and crooked grin was putting a pile of gummy worms in your hand. Wordlessly. Seamlessly. He just got you and the feeling to kiss him right there, right then was overwhelming. And wrong. 

It was wrong. You pressed your lips together for a moment before eating a gummy worm. If your boyfriend was around he’d smack them right out of your hand saying you don’t need more sugar. Maybe that’s why he was so bitter, you thought. Lack of sugar. You tried not to think too hard about the urges Art brought with him. He was so lovely, he was such an escape, and he was only your best friend. It was all he could be. You had no idea he was fighting the very same urge, paying extra attention to the fact he didn’t even have to ask you to open your hand, you just knew. But it was wrong. You had a boyfriend. 

You said goodbye to Art at the entrance to your building, rather than your dorm. If Greg heard you talking out there, you’d be in for something for sure. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight-” you started. “I needed it.” 

Art’s hands slunk into his pocket and he tilted his head just a little, “Yeah, about that. You’re doing okay?” 

“Oh, yeah, my mood lately has been down, it’s nothing big. I’m just extra appreciative of anything that brings it back up.” 

His eyes were understanding and a little apologetic. “If you want we can do something tomorrow? See a movie or play Scrabble or something stupid. We can get takeout? Takeout and going through Patrick’s Facebook and making fun of him.”

That made you grin. You scrunched your nose just a little, “That sounds good! Really good. I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll let you know. I have to check with Greg.” Of course you did. Greg. Fuck. “But I’ll call you, I promise.”

“Okay,” he nodded. His gaze lingered on your lips. He wished they wouldn’t. He wished his mind wasn’t on who you were going back to after he said goodbye. He walked back to his dorm room in this perpetual state of angst and longing. There was no pain like it. Ever. In any part of his life he’d never known a greater emotional turmoil. You weren’t his. And he loved you, he didn’t even like you, he loved you and he knew it and you didn’t and there was nothing he could do. 

He went back to his dorm and got into bed in his jeans and his shoes, not bothering to turn the light off, not bothering to pull the covers over himself. He just hugged his pillow and thought about you and it and everything until he fell asleep. You didn’t have that luxury. 

“You’re late,” Greg said, sitting on your bed. He’d been smoking in your room, you could smell it. Potent and cheap, assaulting your nose. You’d give anything to walk out and not return, but this room was yours. If you left now, he’d have you back in your room with some threat or worse. “Care to tell me why?” 

“I thought I was home early?” You set your bag down on the chair. “You said 11.” 

“I said 10:30,” he replied. 

“Did you?” 

“Did I stutter?” 

“No. Look, I’m tired, can we just go to bed?” 

“Of course we can, doll,” he smirked a little bit evilly. You sighed, running your hand over the back of your neck. He wanted to fuck you. And you wanted to go to bed. “Come over here.” 

“Greg, I’m tired,” 

“Too tired?” 

“Yes. I’m too tired. I’m just going to wash my face and go to bed.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Greg, that’s uncalled for.” You said, standing your ground, just a little. “I’m just tired.” 

He shook his head, “Yeah? You go out for hours and come back and don’t even want to fuck. Sounds an awful lot like you’re getting your fill somewhere else. Hm?” 

You pressed your hand to your temple, “It means I’m tired, god, Greg, I’m not cheating.” And some voice in your head told you that you wished you were. “Please.” You slipped into the bathroom, locking the door, just in case. You washed your face and changed into your pajamas before getting in bed next to his heavy scent. As he wrapped an arm around your waist you thought maybe you could tune him out, but his hand slipped over your chest, coming to rest with your breast in his hand. You couldn’t pretend anything. He was himself. Even if you wished it was someone else, it wasn’t. 

The next morning, he was gone. Where to? You had no idea. You were just glad. You spent the morning with windows open, cleaning your things, wiping down surfaces and sorting laundry, spraying air freshener. And it dawned on you to call Art. Greg wasn’t around. You hadn’t asked him, but you would make some excuse, maybe. 

“Hey!” You greeted him, laying back on your bed, fresh sheets beneath you. “You still want to get takeout and make fun of Patrick’s facebook?” 

Art walked to the side of the tennis court, his partner yelling at him to make it quick. He smiled, sitting on the bleachers. “Yeah, if you’re up for it. My dorm, around seven? Does that work?” His smile grew to a grin. 

“That works,” you replied, smiling too. “Who is yelling at you right now?” 

“My partner for singles today,” he answered with a chuckle. “He’s telling me to get back on the court.” 

“Doesn’t he know you’re super busy making super important plans?” 

He looked at his partner, frustrated in waiting on the court. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Right?” You rolled onto your stomach. “I’ll let you get back to him, I’ll see you later, Art.” 

“See you later, Y/N,” he said. You wished he didn’t have to go. You had nothing to do, Greg wasn’t around. Patrick was touring for another week before he came back around here. You decided to go out and meet up with some girlfriends for the afternoon. It was nice to be out and unbothered by having a set time to be home. There was no pressure. Greg didn’t call or text, not once, and it was a strange sort of peace. You talked to your friends about tennis and classes and their current crushes and it was fun and it was good. You retired back to your dorm around six thirty, showered, and did a little makeup. You were just about to leave to meet Art when Greg walked in.

It was like the light was sucked out of the room along with all the air. Or the fresh air. He smelled gross. He tasted worse, kissing you disgustingly. “Hey baby, I missed you,” he slurred. He needed to shave. “Where you headed?” 

“Bea’s,” you replied. “She’s having a movie night.” 

“Stay,” he breathed. “Missed you all day. Need to feel you.” He disgusted you. Hands on your chest with the door not even closed yet from his entry. “Come on, doll. Said no yesterday, can’t say no today.” 

“No.”

“Don’t give me that attitude, come on. I’m being nice.” 

“Greg, I have plans, I’m going to be late,” you tried to laugh it off nervously, but his hand was around your wrist in seconds. “Greg, please. Come on.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “You’re staying. Bea can fucking wait. Don’t your little friends know that I’m more important than them? Jesus christ, the company you keep.” 

You avoided his gaze. His hand slipped down to undo his belt. You debated running. He’d catch you, he was fast. You debated an argument. You didn’t want to fuck him, you didn’t want to have sex with him. He was expecting it more than wanting it. Like all you were was some object, some toy, some possession. His eyes were dark with lust and his words laced with alcohol. You were afraid of him. “Greg, I have to go. I’ll be back around eleven.” 

“You’re not fucking going,” Greg made it known. Flat out. He shut the door behind him. 

“I am. I made the plans, I can’t bail.” 

“For me, yes you fucking can.” He said, pushing you back onto the bed. “Come on, Y/N. You’ll like it soon enough.” 

“No. Greg. I’m serious. I have to go.” 

“You know better than to talk back to me,” he warned. As if you were a dog. Or a child. “You don’t fucking listen? You’re not going out. Cut the attitude before you regret it.” 

“Greg.” 

“What did I fucking say?” He yelled, then dropped his voice. It was nasty, his breath, his tone. “I’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna like it.” 

“No-” his blow came like lightning through your body. A shock. A volt. And then the sting. “Greg, please-” another. And more. And then he left again. You couldn’t move. You didn’t want to, it hurt. Your ribs ached, your head pulsed. Your lip was bleeding. What could you do but cry and cry and cry? You wanted to call Art, you really did, but you knew if you cried on the phone he’d come over here and with Greg on the loose, it wasn’t a good idea. So you curled up into a ball and cried yourself to sleep. 

Art sat in his dorm room waiting all night for you. Until about 2 am, when he gave up calling and texting and went to bed. You called him the next morning and he didn’t pick up. 

You couldn’t reschedule for any day nearby because of your fat lip and new bruises. Greg came back and apologized like usual, dismissing the purple and blue on your face. His doing. His work. When he was in the bathroom, you called Art again, leaving a quiet voicemail. 

“Art, I’m so sorry about my no-show last night. Something came up and I couldn’t make it and I’m so sorry I didn’t call or text. I feel like such an asshole. But next week, for sure. We’ll do whatever you want, my treat. I want to make it up to you, I feel terrible about this. Please call or text me when you get this. I’m sorry.”

Art gazed over his screen. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Loving you was choking him out and these no-shows and being late and canceling, it was just… too much. You were you and you were everything he could ever want, but you had other priorities, it seemed. He could want you all he wanted, wish for you as often as he could, but you didn’t wish the same. That was all he knew, not knowing the whole truth. Not calling him that night was one of the hardest things to do, but it was for safety. 

You couldn’t even see Art if you wanted to for a few days. Not until the bruises faded enough to be covered by clever concealer. You wanted so desperately to go over to his dorm. You wanted to see your friends. Anything to feel better. Anything to get out of this fucking room, but you called in sick to your classes and worked on the material in your room, completely unable to really exist in the outside world. It was just you and Greg in this tiny little room. And he didn’t stop the aggression. You couldn’t escape it. 

You called Art again when he left for an hour or two to go to the bar. You had stifled your crying, feeling so completely alone, needing to hear his voice. Maybe he’d save you for even a moment. He was the light, he made things better. 

He picked up this time. “Hey.” It was singular, a little quiet. 

“Art, hi,” you said. You weren’t sure why you were so overwhelmed with emotion at his simple greeting. “Did you get my messages? I left a voicemail, god, I’m so sorry for the other night.  We made plans and I made a commitment but I got tangled up. I wanted to call, I’m so sorry I didn’t.” You gushed. “I understand if you’re angry. I know I promised you I wouldn’t do what I did, but you have to believe I didn’t mean to. And I’m really sorry.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “I know.” He wasn’t sure what to say. What you did wasn’t okay, but it was you, so he’d always forgive. “I get it.” But he didn’t. “You have a boyfriend, I can’t expect you to be free all the time. It’s fine.” But it wasn’t. 

“Art, really, I-” 

“I forgive you. Just call me next time? Please.” His words were so easy, it hurt you. “I heard your voicemail, if you still want to make it up to me, I’m free Friday night. There’s a party, Patrick wants to go. You should come with us.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. A party would be hard to lie about. But it was Art and he was asking and you so desperately wanted to see him that you agreed. You agreed. And the conversation mellowed into something normal. Your usual conversation and banter, slight teases, and warm words. And it felt better. You had plans for Friday and that was that. You wouldn’t let anything or anyone stop you this time. 

Getting ready for the party with Greg around sucked. You did your makeup modestly, you couldn’t look too nice or he’d stop you from leaving. The concealer didn't quite cover the bruise, but your lip had healed over pretty nicely. The dim lighting would be your friend for sure. You put on a long skirt over a mid-length one. You couldn’t be too careful, he once called a skirt slightly above the knee slutty. And you wore a dollar store t-shirt over your black tank top. 

“Where are you going?” Greg asked. 

“Sleepover at Bea’s, remember?” You said. You loved lying to him. It was the best you could get away with. “You said I could go.” 

“Yeah. It’s fine. Talk to you later.” He didn’t make you stay or make you kiss him goodbye, which was a relief. You walked over to Art’s dorm with what felt like pep in your step. You didn’t have to be home at any certain time, you were free to roam, to have fun. Greg wouldn’t know. Greg couldn’t know. Patrick let you into Art’s room. He’d been debriefed on the stunt you pulled, but he couldn’t hold it against you. 

“You look like you’re going to church,” he remarked, looking over your outfit.

 Art peered over from where he sat, “Amish?” 

You chuckled, pulling the shirt off over your head. Both boys were a little taken aback as you tossed the shirt to Art’s laundry. “Not quite.” You undid the button on the side of your skirt and took that off as well, revealing the shorter skirt underneath. You were beautiful, Art thought. He always thought it. But that was because you always were. Wanting you was hard and disruptive and wrong, he reminded himself. But you stood there and everything reminded him of just how fucked he was. Head over heels for a taken girl. Both of them were too distracted to pay attention to the covered-up bruise on your outer thighs. They didn’t pay close enough attention to the multitude of bracelets that covered the bruised fingerprints on your wrist. Your face was another story. Another lie. 

Art’s mouth was just a little open, watching you shed the outer layer of clothes. Patrick tossed you a shooter. “So what’s with the coverup?” 

You thought he meant your makeup over the bruise on your face and you held your breath for a half-second. He meant the clothes. “Oh, Greg wouldn’t like me out in a skirt and tank top.” You tried not to cringe at the words. Were they telling?

“Why does Greg have a say in that?” Patrick replied, leaning forward in his chair just a little. Art looked away, he had to. His face would say something he didn’t want you to know. Patrick was overstepping, he couldn’t bear that either. 

You unscrewed the cap of the shooter, “He’s not… I don’t know. But I don’t give a fuck, I’m going out anyway,” you said, trying to ignore that line of questioning. “I’m in the skirt and the shirt. Thoughts?” You did a little spin. Art couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were so perfect it hurt. It hurt. 

“Hot.” Patrick nodded. He unscrewed his own shooter, standing and grabbing one to pass to Art. Art pushed past his thoughts and the three of you did a little ‘cheers’, downing the small bottles. You would take hot. Hot was good. Hot was the opposite of how you were feeling. Greg made you feel so gross, it was hard to be anything else. And with staying cooped up in your room, bruised and marinating in the feeling of being ugly- so hot was good. He said what Art was thinking. It was a little less than he thought, but it was a good summary. 

The three of you headed out soon after, drinking on the way. You were leaning on Art as you walked, the three of you laughing at some inside joke. Your laugh was beautiful and rang out in the street. With the soft buzz of alcohol in his head, on his skin, you were an angel. You were always an angel, bathed in streetlight. And your hand was around his bare forearm and boundaries with you were always blurry but this felt odd. He was enjoying it, it was wrong, but he was letting it pass with the excuse of the alcohol. Your hand was so soft on his skin, the perfect temperature, perfect everything. When were you not perfect? 

“Okay so Patrick is set on bringing a girl back- but bringing a girl back where?” You laughed, turning onto one of the little pathways between the rented residencies. 

“I don’t think he’s thought that far ahead,” Art chuckled, nudging Patrick just a little. Patrick raised his hands in surrender, both hands filled with shooters. His pockets were also full. “You were going to say my dorm room, weren’t you?”

“Nasty,” you teased. “Poor Art. He sleeps in that bed, you know.” 

“Uh-huh. You’re one to talk, you’ve always got some form of hickey on your neck, you don’t even try to hide it. Me, nasty? You.” Your hand immediately flew to the side of your neck. “Sit with that one.” 

Art’s heart always fell at the mention of it. Every time, without fail. You moved away from him just slightly at the mention. You would usually have a retort to something like that. But you didn’t. Your hand just stayed on the side of your neck, covering the fingerprint bruises you didn’t know were visible. You pulled your hair over it. “Pass me another shooter, please.” 

Art, sweet, feeling pretty shitty over the way he was viewing you, stayed quiet. Mostly. Until you were just outside the party. Patrick pat him on the shoulder, heading in right away. Art, sweet, stopped you with the extension of his arm. “You’re quiet.” He said. 

“So were you,” you replied. 

“Just wondering if you’re okay?” He said. Posing it as a question. “You’ve seemed upset since we were at mine, I just wanted to know before we go in there and it’s too loud and I get too drunk to ask.” 

“You’ve never been too drunk you ask,” you smiled. You were standing a little bit close to him, your toes inches from touching. “You got soooo drunk at the Miller’s party last year and you still asked me if I was having fun. I wasn’t and we left and you threw up, remember?” 

“I don’t,” he chuckled, eyes soft. But he nodded, “You’re okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I need more to drink and I want to find Bea and dance. My plans. Your plans?” 

“Drink and save women from Patrick,” he nodded, his grin coming back. 

You, just a little clouded from alcohol, pressed your palm to the side of his face just for a second. “You’re a saint, Art Donaldson.” He felt his skin flush. Your hand slipped away and went down his forearm once again, pulling him into the party. It was natural you let go of him, Art made a beeline for Patrick who was already talking to some girl. She was weird, flirted with Art too once he showed up. 

You needed to lie to Greg more often, you thought, taking a shot from some girl you shared a 3pm class with. Bea’s hands on your hips, dancing together, hands raised over your heads. This was living, this was uncontrolled, unbridled by any abuse, any threat. You could have fun and not feel guilty about it after. Greg had too much trust in a girl he hit. You felt- though you weren’t- free. Just a little bit. 

Art watched you with Bea, watched the way you moved. He was out of it. Just a little. Not too drunk at all. But enough. Numb, watching you. Hard, watching you. He hid a little behind Patrick to hide it, watching your hips sway, watching how close you and your best friend were. He couldn’t have cared less about Bea. Just you. 

He should have told you he liked you in high school. Not saying anything had to be one of the biggest regrets of his entire life. You were perfect for him in every way and you were warm and inviting and you were witty and fun and you knew each other like the backs of your hands and it would have been worth it to tell you. He knew that, looking at you, that it would have been easiest to tell you when he still could. He was bitter about it. A missed chance. Patrick told him he’d regret it and watching you under purple lights, he knew Patrick had been right. It was all bullshit. 

Patrick suddenly grabbed Art’s arm pretty hard, yanking him closer, “That guy over there. That’s Greg, right?” He said, voice low even in the loudness of the party. He gestured over to the guy in the weird sweater and jeans, leaned up against the wall, arm hanging above a short hardly-dressed girl. Faces close. So close. Noses touching kind of close. 

“Oh, fuck,” Art breathed, eyes locked on them, watching Greg’s hand touch just under this girl’s chin. You didn’t know Greg was there, that was apparent. But of course, the dirtbag was. Art’s heart pounded hard in his chest. He looked back at Patrick, whose expression was filled with hatred. As it should be because what the fuck? Regardless of how much he was rooting for Art, always rooting for Art, Greg was still the guy you were with. Your boyfriend. And he was with someone else. 

“I need a reason not to fuck him up right now,” Patrick said. “What the fuck do we do?” 

“I don’t know.” Art answered truthfully. “She doesn’t know he’s here, he doesn’t know she’s here.” 

Patrick shook his head, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, visibly pissed off. At least Patrick could be pissed off, Art’s stomach was just in knots. It was almost nonsensical. No way he would cheat on you. You? You were everything, you were gorgeous in all ways and you had a personality. How could he cheat? He looked back over at Greg in a liplock with this other girl and the anger did rise, but his eyes fell back on you and it eased. This was fucked all around. Every bit of this was fucked up. “We have to tell her, we can’t keep it to ourselves.” 

“I agree but how are we going to say it? We’re in a crowd of people, it’s not exactly fun news.” 

“Fucking asshole. I’m pissed. He’s slobbering all over that girl like a fucking dog. You know, I should…”

Art couldn’t keep listening to Patrick’s rant. He didn’t even want to look back at Greg. But Greg was very obviously invested in his cheating schemes. Art wondered how long he’d been doing it to you. How long had this guy been cheating? Did you not satisfy him? How could you not satisfy him, you sported hickeys so often and you were late to meet up and it was all sickening, but it didn’t add up. This guy was the world's most unsatisfied, apparently. It, he, was disgusting. Art felt his face crinkle up just thinking about it, but he had to now. Your feelings were in the balance here. 

“- in the face. Knock his goatee right off. Art. Art, I’m telling her.” 

“Patrick, give me a fucking second,” Art said, holding a hand up. He looked back at you, Bea pouring a shot in your mouth. You were smiling. Grinning. And you were beautiful and he hated the idea that you’d stop soon. Fuck. Neither of you deserved this. Not you, not Art. “We’ll tell her it’s time to go and then we’ll tell her outside, no bullshit.” 

Patrick nodded, “This is bad.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m so fucking angry.” 

“I know.” Art’s heart was leaping out of his chest. He held his hand out and Patrick dug in his pocket for a stronger shooter. Art drank it all quickly, letting it burn his throat. His heart didn’t slow even a bit. “Fuck.” 

Patrick leaned over to the girl who he’d just been talking to, saying something about having to leave. Art watched her roll her eyes and walk away. It was fair, she’d been standing there for a bit listening to him trash talk your boyfriend. Art rubbed his eyes, trying to sober up just a little, but after that shooter, it was a little bit pointless. Regret seemed to be a theme around here. “He’s gone.” Patrick said. Art let the fuzz from rubbing his eyes melt and sure enough, Greg wasn’t where he was before. Just a little panicked, he set his eyes on you. There he was, towering over you, rage in his eyes. It was clear to Art what was going through your head, he knew you too well, you were cowering. Patrick was still scanning the crowd for Greg, but Art watched as Greg’s fingers locked onto your upper arm and he yanked you so hard that your shoulder went funny for a second. 

Art, a little shocked, watching him drag you out of sight. And he launched into action. He started into the sea of people dancing, drinking, leaving Patrick behind. Patrick was faced the other way, by the time Art was absorbed into the crowd, it was a little late to find even him. Art pushed through people, trying to keep his sight on you, but he lost you in it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled. He’d never seen anyone grab anyone the way Greg just grabbed you. It was violent and harsh and the way it happened, it couldn’t have been good in any way. He pushed through people, accidentally pushing a guy as he passed him, the guy went to push back but Art just darted out of the way. He made his way to the door, you weren’t around it, so you had to have left. 

“Art Donaldson, my man,” one of his tennis buddies greeted him, stepped in front of him and Art just stepped around him, trying to find you. You, where were you? His heart rate was raised higher than he’d ever felt it. Rapid, as if he’d run a mile. He ran out onto the street, looking around, but there wasn’t any sight of you. What he would do when he found you, he had no idea, he just knew he needed to find you. Nobody just grabbed someone like that with good intentions. 

Greg wasn’t a good guy and he knew that, he just thought it was his bias. That maybe he was overreacting, but it didn’t look so much that way now. “Greg, please!” You yelled from his left. Art turned his head to see two figures head into one of the thin alleyways between buildings. He could hear a man speaking back to you, Greg, obviously, but his voice was too much of a growl to understand. Art started jogging toward the sound, cautiously. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry I lied,” you cried out. 

“Little fucking whore. Lie to me to go party with your friends? Dance on some fucking guy, cheat one me? That’s what you wanted?” Art’s heart was about to break his ribs. He ran just a little faster.

“No, fuck, Greg, stop! I was with Bea, I was with Bea!” 

“At a fucking party. If you wanted to be a slut you could have said so. Fucking lying to me, you’re disgusting. Fucking bitch.” 

“Greg!” 

“Don’t even start talking back to me now! You’re a lying, cheating whore who deserves to be treated like one!” 

Art was almost there, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. “Greg, don’t fucking touch me. I’m dead serious, I’ll scream. Get off me, get off me you asshole!” 

The sound of the blow made Art’s entire body go cold. He felt himself drain of colour, he felt his heart stop for just a second. It was a sickening noise. The entirety of him tensed up to a point he felt like a coiled spring, his chest tight, ribs pressing in. He hit you, that was the sound of him hitting you, he hit you. Art made it over and came at Greg with a surprising force, shoving him off of you and onto the ground. He was drunk, it was easy to do. Your hand grabbed Art’s upper arm, but missed as Art’s body followed through with the movement. 

“What the fuck?!” Greg exclaimed. You moved behind Art, backward, away. Tears streamed down your face, you were choking on sobs, cradling the side of your face with one hand and your upper arm with the other. Art stepped back with you. He was so angry he himself couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t look at you, he kept his eyes on Greg, breathing hard. Shoving was tame, shoving him off of you was going to have to be enough, Art wasn’t violent. The shock of all this hadn’t settled, it wouldn’t settle. “Who the fuck are you, tough guy?” Greg advanced on Art who was nimble, but between anti-car poles, stuck. Shoved against the wall, he just avoided having his head hit the wall by putting his hand up. 

“Art!” You yelled. “Greg, stop! GREG!” You screamed, you hoped someone would come. You hoped someone would call the cops. 

“Art fucking Donaldson, huh?” Greg smirked, face close to Art’s. “You been fucking my girlfriend? Hm? This the one, Y/N, really? Just friends my ass, you probably came here with him.” 

“Fuck you,” Art seethed. Greg was bigger than him. 

“Get off of him, Greg, I’m begging you, don’t hurt him!” 

Greg fumed, “Used me to get over him, huh? Big-eared, fuckass, twinkie little pretty boy, here?” 

“Shut up!” You yelled. Your head pounded, your skin stung. “Stop. Now. I’ll call the police, I’ll get someone to call the police, Greg, get off of him!” 

Art shoved Greg backward again, but he just walked right back. “I don’t want to fight you.” Art said, his eyes dark. “Fuck off. Leave her alone, fuck off.” 

“He’s playing prince charming, Y/N. You’ve been fucking him on the side. Yeah, that’s why you never put out, you slut. Getting his pathetic skinny boy dick on the side.” Art kneed Greg in the groin, pushing him off again and stepping over to you. “Oh, you’re fucking dead.” His eyes burned with rage and he came at Art with a pouncing force, grabbing him and bringing him down to the ground. You screamed, watching Greg tackle Art to the pavement. The brawl began, Greg holding Art down, trying to punch him but being blocked. Art wasn’t violent, he was avoiding hurting Greg. For you. For your sake. You had no choice, you had to intervene. What was a few more bruises? You tried to push Greg off, but he kept at it, trying to hurt Art. 

“Hey! Hey, what the fuck!” It was Patrick and he dragged you out of this with too much ease, putting you to the side and going right back to push Greg off of Art and onto his back. A bystander behind Patrick had their phone out, calling 911, thank god. You watched in pure shock, Art get punched in the shoulder rather than the head and in a swift blow, Patrick punched Greg in the jaw. And he went limp. You grabbed Art, you grabbed whatever you could on him, his shirt, his opposite shoulder, on your knees. He looked at you with eyes sadder than you’d ever seen them. You moved closer. 

His hand reached up to your face desperately but also gently, despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “You’re okay? You’re okay.” 

“I’m okay,” you nodded a little too much, looking him over just as he looked you over, noting the way your cheekbone was bleeding. He really hit you. “God, are you okay? I’m so sorry, Art, I’m so sorry.” You were crying a steady stream of tears, lip trembling, and you were still so beautiful. 

“Don’t be sorry, don’t be sorry,” he said, trying to wipe your tears a little more desperately than he had just done. “He hit you, he hurt you, how-” 

“I wanted to tell you. I was scared. I was so scared he’d do something awful. I don’t love him, I don’t want him, I want you. I want you, I’ve wanted you.” You blurted, sobbing just a little more. Art messily moved your hair out of your face. “Art, I-”  You were crying so hard, it was hard to breathe. “I couldn’t leave him.” You looked over at Patrick shaking his hand out, at Greg’s unconscious self. Hands gentle, he turned your head away from it. 

Art’s lips were just a little parted, eyes looking over the damage to your face. “How long has he been?” 

“A long time,” you swallowed hard. “Three months in, maybe two- two and a half.” You said, biting your lip trying to stop crying. “I wanted to leave him. I wanted to so badly, but I couldn’t. He’s- he’s why I didn’t show up those times, I wanted to be there, but he’d… he was… I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for, this isn’t your fault,” he said, bracing you with soft hands. “It’s okay. He’s not getting close to you ever again, Patrick is making sure of that.” 

“He was right about the using him part, I was using him to get over you and it was- wrong. It was wrong and he started hurting me and then it was too late to get out.”

In the heat of the moment, your ‘I want you’s had slipped past him. He wanted to make sure you were okay, he wasn’t focused on that. You were blurting things out, he’d missed it. His eyebrows furrowed, he lowered his head just a bit, “Over me? What do you mean?” His judgment also wasn’t the best. But it didn’t matter. You sat up just a little, still clinging onto his clothes, hands shaking. With Greg out, going to be out of the picture the words just spilled from your mouth. Rolling off your tongue in light of what was soon to be true freedom. 

“I’ve wanted you forever, god, it kills me that I never said anything. It’s you, it’s been you, I don’t know why I thought I could ever try and be with anyone to forget that. It’s just, you’ve never…” 

“What? No, no. I’ve liked you since I met you, we were twelve, it was bad and it’s been you. You never said anything either-” the sound of a cop car approaching interrupted. “You liked me?” 

“Yes! So much. Too much, sometimes. God, I’m so stupid.” You were crying still, even more now. “You just… you never said anything, so I never said anything and then I got stuck, but it never stopped. It’s bad, it’s so bad, I probably love you, it’s awful.” The alcohol was still running the conversation. 

“That is awful,” Art chuckled just a little bit. On the pavement with you, cop car approaching, lights flashing. This conversation would be over in a minute. Your eyes met his, sad, angry, mutual thoughts and mutual expressions. 

“It’s bad?” You smiled just a little through your tears. 

He grinned just a little, “I've been in love with you for as long as I've known what being in love feels like”

Art’s thumb wiped your tears with a little less desperation now. His heart and yours were still beating hard. “That’s so bad, that’s six years,” 

“I know.” He said, grinning his wide crooked grin. The conversation had strayed from the real problem, but it was a good distraction. A welcomed one, in fact. Proof that things could and would be better. “It’s okay. Are you going to be okay?” 

“I’m going to be okay,” you nodded. The policemen, two of them walked over and began their spiel, asking about what happened and Art helped you to your feet. The night was still young, the persecution was easy to figure and a diary you kept detailing his abuse was a great help to the case. You, Patrick, and Art all spent the night at the police station with forms and questions and people trying to get a grasp on the situation. A blurry security camera was also a great amount of help. Greg was charged properly, put away. It was easy to see who was the real problem. You sat with ice to your face in one of the police chairs, being offered therapy and counseling and numbers to call for trauma and crisis. Everyone was so sweet, one of the policewomen held your hand for a good while until it stopped shaking. 

You still cried a lot. Sorry that everyone had to go through this just because you couldn’t leave a guy. Just because you had tried to forget your feelings for Art in someone else. But the words, ‘it’s not your fault’ were thrown around a lot. And that you’d be safe. And it felt good to know. You’d sobered back up, obviously. So did the boys. You had the most extensive questioning, the boys waited in the main room. 

“All the excuses, the ball to the face, the stairs…” Patrick sighed heavily, staring forward into a void. 

“It was him.” Art nodded. “I feel like such an idiot, how the fuck did I not know? I know her better than myself, she hid it and I didn’t want to think about her and Greg. It was… it hurt.” He admit. Patrick looked over at Art. 

“He’s gone. He won’t hurt her again. If he tries, best believe I’m doing more than knocking his ass out. I can’t fucking believe this shit. I’m glad I got off, but jesus fucking christ, I wish I’d done enough to be behind those bars.” 

“No you don’t,” Art sighed, leaning forward into his hands. “Fuck. I didn’t even fight back.” 

“You’re not that kind of guy,” Patrick reasoned. “Which is fine. You got him off her, that was all you needed to do.” 

“I guess, but… fuck.” 

“She told you she wanted you,” He reminded Art with a slight sly smile on his lips. He gave Art a gentle little push off the shoulder. As if Art had been able to stop thinking about it. He’d sobered up just the same and the confession might have been badly timed, but at least it happened. He meant it, he hoped you did too. He was trying not to let it eat him alive alongside the fact your now-ex hit you and he hadn’t known. Maybe he missed the other clues? How did he not know? “She likes you too. It’s all you’ve wanted.” 

“I know,” Art sighed. “After that, though?” 

“Means she’s yours.” 

Art looked up and met Patrick’s eyes, trying to verify if he meant it. As if Patrick was the dictator. But Patrick was only the reality. The gravity of the situation hung above him, but you were in front of him, free from the questioning. Your cheeks were pink and tear-stained still and your eyelashes were still wet. Patrick tipped his head toward you to gesture to Art and the second Art saw you, he was on his feet. His eyes were wide like a doe’s, hands in his pockets. 

He met you halfway down the blue-painted precinct hallways. Your eyes said more than words did as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled you in the rest of the way into a hug that had more sincerity and life than the walls had ever seen. His arms wrapped around your waist, grabbing onto the fabric of your shirt on your sides, holding you tight and close. He kissed your shoulder, his chin resting in your hair. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He mumbled. You shut your eyes for a moment, allowing him to envelop you in his arms. He held you so tight, it felt like he was keeping you from falling to pieces. It would take you a while to get over all of this, but right now, it felt like you’d be okay. 

He was refreshingly cold, the precinct was warm and you’d been upset, so of course you were warm. He held you for a minute or maybe five. Nobody had to use the hallway and anyone who did just went back around. Patrick didn’t watch, instead, he went to the counter to ask about getting a ride back to campus. 

Eventually, you pulled away from the hug. Not entirely, just almost. His arms slid over your back, his grip just loosening, not leaving. In fact you didn’t get very far in pulling away. Your heart beat fast in your chest. Even in the upset, even after the fact, Art was still your peace. He was quiet and he held you as long as you needed him to. He was always there and you knew he would be. With everything that happened just then, with that confession… Your forehead pressed against his. Gentle. Safe. You were safe. You felt safer here, like this, than you did in that room with the officers who asked you so many things. 

You looked at him through your eyelashes. He must have read your mind, he must have known you too well. With a tilt of your heads, your lips met. There was the slightest, softest bit of hesitation, but it was soothed over in seconds, your hand sliding to cup Art’s cheek. He pulled you back in with slow, easy hands that didn’t grab too hard. The kiss was patient, calculated, and warm. It sent what felt like tiny sparks through all of your veins leaving goosebumps in their wake. It felt like completion, like a satisfying end to a movie, like putting a book back on the shelf after reading it. It was easy to kiss him, your heart slowed for the first time as his pace matched yours. However, out of understanding, the kiss wasn’t too long. Maybe a minute, nothing more. 

You’d been through something. He couldn’t be the one to fix all of that, but he’d be there for you until it felt better. Stepping in now felt wrong, felt like it was one thing to another. You needed the time to yourself. Art didn’t kiss you again for another five months. All of which were spent the way they usually were, aside from being a little closer than usual and hanging out so much more. You were free to do as you pleased. Free to see him. Free to stay home- and you spent a good amount of your time alone healing. Physically and mentally. 

Patrick was often around to help you laugh it off, but when you needed to cry, Art was always right there. After some time, you were feeling like yourself again. And you were laughing too much, smiling all the time again, spinning in a new skirt and crashing into Art. Who you then kissed, after so much time thinking about it, replaying it, wanting it again. It was finally okay to do so. After seven years, it was only fitting that he welcomed it, fully, and entirely. You were giggling, your lips pressed to his, and he knew it was okay. There was no bruise on your cheekbone to be cautious of, both of his hands held your face, your head tilted back just a little as he kissed you the way you were meant to be kissed. The way Greg couldn’t. It would never mean so much. 

Greg was in your past, but Art was your past. And your future, now. Because now that you had each other, neither of you was going to let go. He promised you that between kisses. You promised it back. 

taglist: @swetearss @lalalandofive @reallycreativeusername @kaaaiiaaa @ladystardust-thinks @ke4s @ellzbellz18

[boosnotes]

Dude, I fucked up

Sonic T. Hedgehog x reader (platonic) & Shadow T. Hedgehog x reader (romantic)

Warning: none

Genre: eeeh... comedy? cause its not funny and absurd enough to be a crack fic

A/n: im not totally in love with this work, but i hate throwing them away

"I think I like Shadow." You blurted out suddenly, Sonic slowly turned his head around and gave you a very concerned look. You two were hanging out, watching a shitty movie, one of those that are so bad they're good. This was something you had to get out of your chest, to try at least to check if it's actually real and not your brain confusing love for having someone just treating you decently.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" His tone showed genuine worry, he hadn't moved a bit, his body was in shock, but his face wasn't, and his hand was still in the air right about to eat a chip.

"I don't know…" You now hang your head low, trying to make sense of your life choices, this one by far was one of your more questionable ones, which isn't a lot if you think about it, don't think about it, you're already dealing with something too serious for your heart. The blue hedgehog slowly nodded, his body relaxing a little, seeing his shoulder slack down and his hand retrieved back to the chip bowl.

"Ok… What do you like about him?" He tapped around the topic, he deserved some kind of explanation after that bomb of a statement. There was a part of him that wanted to support you, but it seemed that you didn't even support yourself. Shadow was a complicated person in general, even to befriend, he had a lot of first-hand experience in that.

"Ummm… His personality?" That came out way more in a questioning way than a statement, did you seriously like this guy? He is attractive indeed, but that's just an objective fact, not much of an opinion, but is he enough to make you like him in that way? I mean, sure, you had dreamt of him way too many times, but that's normal, totally platonic, you never kissed him in those dreams, ok, you did fuck that one time, but it doesn't even count.

"Which one? Depressed emotionally unavailable guy?" Your statements did not stop surprising him, it felt like he was chained to the ocean and tortured by feeling the waves hit him with brute force.

"Yeah, I guess…" He is sweet in his way, he just has a hard time expressing his emotions. And it's really interesting when he has those moments of talking, he knows a lot about the things he loves. He also gifts you useful things, like vitamins and a spare gun, and he takes the time to teach you how to use it correctly.

"Dude…" You stayed in an awkward silence, him staring at you as if you grew a head out of your toe. He was a hopeful guy, but maybe you weren't part of that hope. He doesn't even know if Shadow even considers him his friend, he will break your heart.

"What? I think I do, like really do. Should I confess?" You gave him a tight-set smile, clearly uncomfortable and scared of that idea. He was unpredictable, and you didn't want him to hate you or be disgusted by you, you are well aware feelings are not his forte, but you don't want to lie to him either, you don't know if you can now that you're aware of this. Sonic's eyebrows dropped and shook his head, no, it was a bad idea.

"I can be your wingman-"

"No." You cut him off, if confessing was bad, having him put you together was ten times worse. You were doomed, you fucked up, you did the only thing you were not supposed to. The moment he saw you panicking internally, he grabbed your shoulder and made you look at him.

"Stop, you're going to be the cutest couple ever, I will make that happen, even if it costs my life." His eyes were determined, they had that characteristic fire he had when battling, it made you calm down, and he always got his way, for better or worse. You gently nodded your head, making the executive decision to put your future love life in his hand. Maybe it was another of your questionable decisions, but you didn't want to deal with that.

Either way, if this goes bad, you can always blame it on Sonic being Sonic

[twistedpink]

Hello! Not an ask, just fangirl rambling (not sure if you're into that though.?)

In answer to your ''Lilia vs Idia x Reader anyone'' from a few days ago YES I AGREE we see tons of adeuce x reader and idia x azul x reader but never with Lilia and Idia?? Which makes no sense to me, there's so much potential there! Firstly Lilia and Idia's relationship is as incredibly funny as it is touching (on top of being the two best written characters in this game but I may be biased), secondly their personalities balance each other so well, and thirdly the scenarios possibilities - them not knowing they're online bff when reader becomes close friends with them both separately (Idia moping and judging at the same time cause you're hanging with the n°1 freaky extrovert, going ''yeah obviously you'd rather spend time with a charismatic hyper dude than me...'' and ''ugh you like this guy??'' at the same time. Meanwhile Lilia finds it endearing that you'd befriend such a socially awkward guy, but also, you have weird taste?) and then bring in romance and jealousy and they get worse. But then again, make them realize they're actually online bff!! And now reader can hang out with both of them at once, and do so many fun group activities (playing four players games with Ortho -grim canonically gets frustrated with controllers : ( going to premo concerts, to cons, perhaps even a cat or game cafe), Lilia would happily drag Idia out of his room, literally if needed, and Ortho would be ecstatic his brother has not one but two friends, gets out more and always ends up having a good time (on top of building confidence and trust in others)! And maybe even Lilia could get emotional growth out of it; if two people not from his found family keep telling him how awesome and loved he is perhaps he'd start internalizing it and value himself more? But also the bittersweet romantic tension in a bff trio! Uuugghh why does no one writes fic about them

Just consider the perfect imageries of their duo : SF and medieval fantasy! Otaku shut in and chaotic adhd hyper goth! Vampire-like dark fae weapon of war and literal god of the underworld (the goth dream)! The height difference! -and somehow a great deal of their clothes are the same size

also, the snark fest would be phenomenal with both their forces combined

YES my favourite part of the musclegloom dynamic is that this is their escape, and obviously they have no idea it’s just “that guy from class” bc even if they did get close it’s pretty wild to accuse someone that you’ve been playing RPGs together for an extended period of time. Imagine the TENSION when you get closer to them as indidviduals- peeling back the layers and going “hey! I used to play something exactly like this back home, can I sit in?” And bc they’re whipped they let you, but those gaming accounts are sacred!!! So Idia starts beginner friendly games w/ you and Lils just plays the stuff he likes on new accs. Imagine being with Idia on a new game (inching your way into his lap bc sue me it’s cold) WHILE getting spammed by Lilia. Your phone’s vibrating every couple seconds and Idia’s scowl just gets worse bc he knows exactly who it is. Even going as far to TRIPLE TEXT you (wowwww record breaking) next time you’re in diasomnia despite flaming your “baby-metal mob” for doing the same thing last week. The boys accidentally finding and WEARING each other’s stuff (Lilia does it on purpose- free is free) (Idia has one sided beef and Ortho restocks his closet anyways. He doesn’t know what belongs there on a good day)

+ This and FWB, Ids needs to become your boyfriend for his confidence and Lilia is a massive swinger no matter how possessive he gets. He has you when he needs to, AND the rush of stealing you away from someone??? You spoil him <3

[cameoliob]

what are your headcanons for kallus and jovan? how did they get together? who fell first and whose heart broke first? do they still hate each other when kallus joins the rebellion or do they simply act like the pettiest bitches towards each other? enquiring minds want to know

ANON THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THIS IVE BEEN WAAIITTTIINNNGG

Before I get into this I have to legally preface that 1. I’m a Kallus from the lower levels truther + I operate off the assumption that he does not have any family and that plays a decent role in what's going on 2. We dont know alot about Jovans personality so I lowkey just go off vibes but in my brain, teenage him is starry-eyed, a little naive, but SO kind. Older him is a little bit of a douche (not terrible, just the kind of guy that you have to scoff at whenever they talk too much). 

Okay I have a whole headcannoned timeline so im gonna lay this out for u

It's 19 BBY, the empire just started enlisting and all the rich Coruscanti kids are FIGHTING for a chance to go to the academy because “wow that sounds so much more fun than regular university.” Jovan is a part of this demographic. 

So you’ve got this whole class of rich kids doing rich kid things, and Jovan is having a great time; it’s the fourth week of school, he’s found his friend group, he gets along great with his bunk mates, everything is fantastic.

Except theres just this one… fucking guy…

This guy is in, like, half of Jovans classes and Jovan just can’t stop thinking about him because where in stars name did this skinny, scrappy, snappy, kid with a gnarly side eye come from???? Why is he so sickly looking???? And so mean????

And Jovan’s always been a curious guy, he wants to figure out what this guy’s deal is so he, of course, takes it upon himself to befriend this Edward Cullen looking ass dude. Easier said than done; Jovan finds out very quickly that Kallus does not trust easily and it takes at least three weeks of Jovan forcing his friendship on him (inviting him to sit with him in the mess hall, offering to help with assignments, sitting next to him in class, ect.) for Kallus to hold a full conversation with him. 

From there, though, it gets easier. Turns out that Kallus is, quite possibly, the coolest guy Jovan has ever met. He doesn't gaf about what people think about him, he’s gotten into fist fights before (real ones, not sparring!), he fucking parties, he fucks, he can hotwire a speeder, he’s so naturally smart, and cunning, and resourceful– Jovan is completely entranced by this guy. 

^^^(completely entranced by this guy.. I never said Jovan had good taste)

In the meantime, Jovan helps Kallus out with some of the pre-req classes needed for their first year, because as cool as he is, Kallus is not good at physics. 

By the end of their first year at the Academy, Jovan and Kallus become very close. It’s that kind of friendship between guys that, if you saw it from an outsider's perspective, you’d be like, “oh… are they..?? Do they..????? What???” but tbh they don't even think about it because they’re too busy being stupid

Now, the imps do NOT like taking days off, BUUUUT all those rich families donating to the academy do, so I imagine that– at least in the first few years of the empire– the academy had a short, 3 or so week long summer break. 

So we get to break, and Kallus is like “oh wait, I don’t have anywhere to go over break, guess I’ll just rough it out on the streets for a few weeks ig. Nothing new tbh.” And Jovan is like, “What???? No???? You’re not doing that????” and Jovan invites Kallus to tag along on his family vacation (idk where they go, maybe like Naboo or smth, I didn't think that far). Kallus obviously accepts. 

So they go on this vacation, and Jovan is thinking to himself, Waiiiiiittttt a minute………. I actually have wanted him so bad for like 3 months. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him, like I’m gonna blow my cover fuckuckufckufcjukcf.  But he’s like not trying to do anything about it because he’s all nervous. But THEN, last week of vacation Kallus is like. “I actually think that you should let me kiss u on the mouth.” and Jovan is like “okay bbg say less.” (Jovan fell first if that wasn’t clear)

(This situation is about to get ALOT gayer)^^^

AND THEN THE BREAKUP

They graduated the academy a year prior, Kallus has been doing his ISB training, Jovan has been doing whatever tf you do to become a lieutenant. They’ve been together for four-ish years atp. 

Kallus is SO locked in with his ISB training. Like he was a dedicated student before (he was top of his class for a reason), but this is borderline obsession. He’s never home, always working, always tired, ect ect. In the meantime, Jovan is climbing the ranks and he is lowkey kind of power tripping over it. He’s getting kind of entitled, a little passive aggressive, and is not really putting effort in tbh.

So Jovan is all annoyed because Kallus is always at work and he literally just wants to hang out with his boyfriend. Tbh, he thinks that Kallus is getting way too ambitious way too quickly.

And Kallus is all annoyed because Jovan isn’t giving him any good reasons to leave work, in fact, Jovan has been grating his nerves lately because he doesn’t do anything. Jovan isn’t ambitious enough. 

The resentment is BUIILLLDDDIINNNGGG

The night they break up is FUCKING CRAZY, OKAY

Jovan picks a fight because he fucking feels like it and Kallus is not having ANY OF IT. Huge blowout fight ensues; Jovan says something classist or something, Kallus calls him an “entitled, prissy twat,” Jovan tells Kallus with the “you wouldn’t have even graduated without my help,” Kallus fuckinf kicks the wall or something, Jovan starts yelling about the drywall, Kallus is like “okay, fuck you AND your goddamn drywall,” and JUST LEAVES

The next day Jovan comms Kallus like “bbg pleapelaleapsleapsleaplsea I messed up im sorry plzplzpzpzlpzlzpzlzp” and Kallus ignores the hell out of him. 

Kallus is pissed because tbh if things just went better, he honest-to-god would have married that man, but noOOOooOOooO, Jovan had to be STUPID

AND THEN SIXTEEN YEARS LATER KALLUS ARRESTS THAT HO and he is SOOOO HAPPY ABOUT IT

But then Jovan shows up in the rebellion and Kallus is so annoyed. 

Because for 1. He is kind of prissy and self important and most people would agree with that 2. No way they ended up in the same place after 18 years, that is so bs, and 3. It’s so awkward that Jovan has all of this info about who Kallus was growing up, and the life he lived before going into the ISB– in fact, he probably knows more than anyone in the Ghost crew just because he was there– and that is so mortifying

Jovan is so stoked

Because for 1. Kallus did all that work in the ISB only to end up a rebel anyways and that is hilarious 2. He has so much mildly embarrassing material about him in his back pocket. But tbh it’s kind of bittersweet for him because Kallus is his One that got away (He was planning on going RING SHOPPING, and then he got BROKEN UP WITH, what the FUCK) and he always reasoned with it by thinking that Kallus was irrevocably changed by the empire, and the Kallus he fell in love with wasn’t going to come back. BUT THEN IT TURNS OUT THAT HE IS BACK– yeah, he’s got a beard now, and he pretends to be all serious, but he’s the same snarky, cunning, side eyeing idiot that he fell for. And he knows he can't have him because that train has LEFT THE STATION

^^(This art is old so its a little jank but shhhhhhhhh, its the vibes that matter)

So he obviously deals with this by selling embarrassing pictures of Kallus from their academy years to Sabine, because that’s probably the best revenge he’s going to get.

Kallus is obviously over him, and has been for a LONG time, he just doesn't like Jovans personality, and Jovan kinda wants Kallus back but apparently that's not an option so they do end up creating a dynamic where they are so petty to each other when they get the chance. (Which is not often because the rebellion is big and if they can avoid each other, they will.)

[bwobgames]

He leaves his guitar on the side of the wall. In case the ghosts need to be pacified with the beautiful melody of wonderwall.

He uses the random sachet of salt for a sneaky salt circle. And on the middle? A small yet powerful plush of a sad pou. No ghosts could resist such bait!

What else is needed, a piece of paper if the wish to write? But what if they draw something appropriate. Maybe they skip that step.

 

Simon is tasked with their candle they brought for strange fun rituals they found online. Like calling the red amongus at three am.

“Woah, this place is getting dark, I guess they’ll start turning the lights on now. It’s kinda spooky...”

“Got the candle”

 “Nice! It might be a bit dangerous since it’s, like, a public place so let’s keep it under watch while-“

 

 

 The storm gets colder.

“Girl, the wax is attacking.”

“Ah-! Whoops! Let me get that-“

 

“Uh- actually it might be better if we don’t use it. As cool as the imagery of a burning train is, it wouldn’t be beneficial for us. Physically and metaphorically”

 

They get down to the floor, ready to start calling on any spirits, when-

 

Blonde man interruption.

 

“Hey little dude! Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Ah, sure!”

He seems excited.

“Uh, In private?”

Bitch??

“Be right back”

“Ah, of course!”

And so he leaves. No questions asked. Even when they just had everything settled here. But it’s fine. No big deal. It’s not like it won’t happen again on university.

Simon will get new friends. Because he’s cool like that.

Because he knows what he wants. Because he’s the son of a CEO. Because he’s funny and nice and athletic. Because he has an actual reason to be upset. Because he’s... well. Light skinned, maybe.

Anyone would want to befriend him.

And then when he has all those cool friends, who are just as amazing as he is...

Will he... need an old friendship like this?

 

If they don’t go to the same school, if they don’t meet as often, then...

Will they still be friends?

 

 

 

“Will I still belong here after the storm ends?”

 

He looks at his failed seance scene.

He remembers a picture his mom showed him.

He considers... something.

 

He cleans up. Maybe it’s better to leave it to professionals.

One of the staff tells him is food time, Simon is probably already there. Everyone is.

 

It’s 9:40 pm

 

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