#theres also the fact that Will “has known loneliness from the times his mother was on tour

[chaoticcatbehaviour]

There's a high chance that Naomi Solace is not much of an active parent but some of y'all are not ready for that conversation.

It would also explain why he's not mad at Apollo when he is turned mortal despite him being quite the absent parent.

And also as to why he has a big ass tattoo at the age of 15.

[ufvincent]

hello friends ( lets choose to ignore how late this is. punctuality is not one of my strong suits hahehe ) excited to be here & write ! fun facts abt me before we get started: i work fulltime & tend to knock out as soon as im home thus the lack of activity + i luv fe3h but have yet to finish a single playthru ... #badgamerthings. wiki is my best friend 4ever.  here is his portfolio page & read on to find more :^)

cue rambling & hoping it makes some semblance of sense:

second born (but heir) of the duke of vessalius (a state within gleerium), thus holds the title of ‘marquess’ (which is for the first son of a duke, but he inherited at a young age from his older brother after his death)

early childhood has him loved as the family’s baby but has since been forced to adapt to a certain loneliness as per life’s circumstances 

(the turning point being the aforementioned brother’s death @ the hands of a protester, a grief his parents basically never got over, and in turn is the start of his loneliness, worsens after his mother died a few years back)

anger @ the circumstances leads to many bad decisions, inclination towards self ruination, a lack of respect for both himself and the world at large. (violence Is the key)

father has him oblige to using an alternative outlet for his anger, reminds him of the good his mother represented (as a former star champion for his ppl & known for her warrior prowess, which she put on the backburner to build a family but continued supporting in more of a figurehead position)

pledges to follow in her footsteps and become a good soldier, thus begins his post-grad fixation with training

mostly devotes himself to his training simply bc he feels he no longer has any other purpose in life, there is no passion, its his competitive behavior & need to prove himself that enables him to work hard; moves up the ranks until recently, when a form of self sabotage (re: physical brawling) leaves him injured.  knee takes time to recover, and by then his peers have rushed ahead and begun making names for themselves within the ranks. 

re: aforementioned injury; sometimes u can see him limping around, tho he tries to mask any discomfort. while the pain is real as his injury isnt too old, it is also psychogenic (when fixated on how much hes failed, the pain flares up more)

simply existing. accepted he’s a good for nothing, but reluctant to admit he’s miserable.  pretends he can accept anything that comes his way b/c he has lost the energy to care any further. adopts an  ‘it is what it is’ philosophy to hide behind

(but is also moody, like the type to say ‘lol ok’ b/c he thinks theres no point arguing and then approach u again in 2 min like ‘ok but actually. wtf’.) 

currently on a (forced) journey of a self discovery to 1) figure out what he Can Do before 2) hes subjected to his father’s responsibilities evermore as the role of the dutiful son requires of him. currently favors charity work / going into town to see what needs to be done in order to be helpful (also b/c it keeps him out of their home)

tense r/s with father now, as he essentially hasnt been given the time of day since he became his heir & believes hes his fathers biggest disappointment. 

has no will to care for his own life, exists to date b/c he cares more for his baby sister than anything else/his own self

tl;dr he’s waiting to die

idk what else to put here im crossing fingers ive mentioned all i need to!

plot wise! 

honestly open to anything, i feel there’s more room for antagonism generally considering his family’s position but also. he is slated to be a little infuriating. 

specifically open to filling the younger sister slot since that would be fun! overprotective vincent + family trauma. what a fun time 

pseudo siblings are so imp and so fun. found family is beautiful

in a similar vein, ppl that have known him all his life (whether it means a positive or negative r/s)

he went to lotus academy until he was 18, so possibilities for meeting there! 

or someone he met during/closely trained with during the last 4 years before injury, comrades haha... heart_emoji (open possibilities, with re: training = moving around a lot so ability to meet more ppl (& with or w/o the pretense of his title))

or during his random escapades into town where he can typically get away w/o being noticed. he adopts a new name each time - u know him as like.... nick.,....... subin, ...... bobby.

besties keep u sane. vincent will be the exception 2 the rule (befriend him. its fun!)

i am the worst at jotting down plots but genuinely open to anything, lmk if smth comes to mind and we will make it work!

if u got this far. my liege ... i applaud u  (bowing_person_emoji)

[boydsfm]

❛ ✶ ( ALEX WOLFF , CIS MALE , HE/HIM )  —  did you see LUCAS BOYD walking around campus earlier ? i hear a lot of people talking about the NINETEEN year old SOPHOMORE . from what i know , they are studying COMPUTER SCIENCE and are a part of PHI KAPPA DELTA . they come across as + KIND-HEARTED but also - TIMID , which makes since because on their instagram ( LUCAS.V.BOYD ) it says they are a VIRGO . when i see them , i think of A DESK COVERED IN EMPTY COFFEE MUGS, DANDELIONS GROWING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK, THE UGLIEST GODDAMN SWEATERS YOU’VE EVER SEEN. the most interesting thing i’ve heard about them though , is the fact that REDACTED  , but don’t tell anyone i told you that . ooc info . ally . 22 . est . she/her .

hello hello hellooooooooooooooo. i’m ally, i’m from canada, and i’m addicted to tik tok i’m so excited to be here!! this has been an opportunity to bring back an old and beloved muse of mine, one lucas victor boyd ! if you like this, i’ll hyu on discord, or you can hmu at known simp harry hook#3923. 

statistics.

full name. lucas victor boyd  nickname(s). just lucas. not luke or lou, just lucas.  occupation. undergraduate student, beaumont campus tech support  age. nineteen. date of birth. september 2nd, 2001.  nationality. american. ethnicity. ashkenazi jewish, scottish. orientation. gay. gender & pronouns. cis male; he/him/his.

height. 6′0”. weight. 145 lbs. eye color. hazel. hair color + style. dark brown; usually messy and curly. he gets it cut short at the beginning of the semester and then by the end its a mop. really doesn’t style it.   dominant hand. right-handed. distinguishing features. distinctive nose, lanky figure, messy curls, undereye bags, that cute li’l mole. 

background. (tw alcoholism, death of a parent) 

SO. lucas was born in portland, maine, to a pretty lower middle class family. his father left when he was two years old, and he was largely raised by his mother, florence weber. 

florence was a hardworking and loving mother, but she was also quite depressed her entire life. she was a recovered alcoholic when she met judas, lucas’s father, but once he left, she slowly slid back into her old habits. 

by the time lucas was eight, he was having to start to pick up some household responsibilities. cooking, cleaning, packing his own lunch. waking his mom up in time for her shifts at target. 

by the time he was in middle school, he’d learned how to forge her signature on cheques, he’d applied for unemployment for her after she got fired, and he was taking any odd job to make money. 

school was his favorite distraction; he was always a brilliant kid, and if it weren’t for the fact he was already a terribly shy and awkward kid, he could have skipped a couple grades. he threw himself into schoolwork to avoid everything; his mother’s worsening condition, his crippling loneliness, his fear that he might be as gay as every one of his bullies insisted. 

this was, also, around when he picked up his most lucrative but troublesome odd job; hacking into the school board network to get test answers. he could get fifty dollars per person per test, and he was able to buy groceries besides beans and rice, was able to buy new clothes for himself and his mom. he felt awful about it every day, but... he still did it.

(death tw) at sixteen, when he found his mom motionless and cold on the floor of their apartment, he buried himself in his work, too. he couldn’t help but feel guilty, though; it was his work, his taking care of everything that had allowed his mom to keep her addiction up for this long.

so, yeah. there’s a very good reason why he doesn’t go back to portland anymore. he spent last summer in cambridge. well, that and his Secret. 

since the beginning of his freshman year, lucas has had something of a glow-up. he signed up for the school’s counselling services before he even got to campus, and he’s been making great strides. 

additionally, he pledged phi kappa delta, which... he never saw himself pledging a frat, ever in his life. but all the guys there were so... cool. and so supportive and nice and... and they’re like the brothers lucas never had. having that little family has helped him gain that much more confidence in himself. 

personality. 

if there was an onion headline for lucas’s life it would be Nervous Wreck Slowly Becomes a Functional Human Being.

very virgo, very type a. but also a pisces moon cancer rising. so he needs everything to be in alphabetical order or he’ll cry.

ever since he’s started college, he’s transitioned from being As Plain As Possible to being more outwardly soft as he’s gained confidence in himself. he wears the dorky sweaters and neat socks he likes, he has a small collection of plants on his desk, he knits scarves for his friends. big hufflepuff energy. again, this comfort largely comes from the acceptance he’s found at phi kappa delta.

slowly getting over his Big Anxiety. slowly learning how to talk to people. still awkward at parties. still has panic attacks every day during exam season. but he adores his therapist and takes his zoloft every day and he’s… he’s doing alright.

there are things he is sure of. his intelligence, his diligence, his ability to get shit done. he’s recently mastered asking fellow customers to please be kind to servicepeople.

still he’s that guy who doesn’t want to tell the waiter they got his order wrong.

he’s literally highkey fucking brilliant. he’s literally at the top of his class in one of the most difficult programs at one of the most difficult universities in the country. 

a chronic people pleaser up until the point that it breaks his moral code. like if you want him to help you cheat or help you toy with someone he will put his foot down. he’ll do it very softly, but he won’t budge.

(though he is known to do mathematics and computer science homework for his friends when they’re overtired. he’s always the one to offer in that case, though.)

the rare gay who is extremely capable in math. legit he gets so excited about math it’s actually really cute.

theres a part of him that still believes in magic, to some capacity. he still wishes on shooting stars and pennies on the ground and dandelions. 

his greatest strength and fatal flaw is that he sees the best in people. even if he knows you tried to hurt him, he will give chance after chance.

(but he works in tech support rn So. he’s slowly losing his belief in humanity.) 

in conclusion, here are some tik toks that describe lucas 

him in kindergarten

he can’t write i’m so sorry

 just.... the Vibes 

wanted connections. 

skinny love. lucas is extremely shy, especially in romantic situations. he cannot flirt to save his goddamned life. he also probably thinks this person is out of his league. (honestly i want a romantic plot for him so bad gimME) 

close friends. GIVE HIM FRIENDS FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD he’s such a good friend he just wants to love people.

lawyer for real life. based off this john mulaney bit. someone who reminds lucas that someone is mistreating him.

lab partner. idk man i just like that easy camaraderie. or maybe they make lucas do all the work in which case he will eventually snap.

tutoree. someone that lucas basically helps out of the good of his heart.

bad influence. someone get this boy TURNT

manipulator. lucas does have a bit of a backbone, but he is incredibly naive and very easily manipulated. basically he will do your stats assignments for you if you say he’s your friend.

academic rival. lucas is not typically an antagonistic person, but having someone be so obviously smarter than him grinds his gears a little bit. his mood when talking to this person is :))))))))))

literally anything pls i’m desperate and he’s baby

[killcapitalizm]

the louvre (no tw); peter parker

request; can you do an imagine where reader has a crush on peter even though he and michelle were dating in high school (which makes the reader distance themselves from the group) and after they graduate, peter finds them and says that he and michelle didn’t work out? then the reader finds out it was because he liked the reader the whole time. sorry if this is confusing and super long!!

word count; 2,981

warnings; angst, this wasnt edited

a/n; SSCREAMS IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ugh im disappointed in myself.. theres gonna be more parts to this im currently writing the next one dw. listened to the louvre by lorde while writing this. love u

tags; @kaliforniacoastalteens

Your name: submit What is this?

You had supposedly gotten over Peter a few months ago, when you'd accepted the fact that he and MJ– or rather, Michelle, you remembered, she's Michelle to me now, isn't she– were dating and you'd finally ceased intentional contact with him after painfully long weeks of being too busy, too sick, too tired, too hurt; and you have yet to admit that last one. With Peter's absence of course came Michelle's, they were a couple and therefore somewhat of a packaged deal. That was no surprise to you, when you regretfully unwound yourself from Peter you had known that you'd lose Michelle, too. What you hadn't expected was the sudden absence of Ned– someone who you had grown quite close to. Even Liz was separated from you, so subtly you nearly hadn't noticed she was gone. In the first few seconds of hurt and loneliness and confusion, you were awfully lost. But then you considered: you met Ned and Liz through Peter and indeed they were closer to him than you'd ever be, ever been. And so you start from scratch.

You tried your absolute best to make some friends in each of your classes. You swallowed that familiar feeling of fear-filled blankness and managed to talk to one person in each of your classes. They all had their own pre-established friend groups that you knew you wouldn't be able to be a part of, but you gratefully settled for acquaintances that would give you a partner in class and someone to ask for notes when you were out for a day or two. You lived without a friend for the last four months of your senior year, right up to graduation where you saw Peter and Michelle kiss under the shade of a city tree in front of the school and then you caught Ned's eye later and his mirrored yours, but softer. Never before had you weeped over being unable to text a friend about how entirely shitty you felt because your mother was angry again and, more importantly, you missed them, but in that summer you stained your pillow at midnight as your back and legs and chest ached as if they were holding your bruising sorrows. Your parents weren't home that night when you were crying, crying for hours into the early, early morning. You cried until you had no more tears to cry, and you simply wailed to yourself, exhausted an drowsy but unable to sleep because you felt too terrible to be able to rest. Those kinds of nights don't happen often but you hate that they happen at all.

On your first day of your new job at a popular bookstore, you were glad it was chilly so that your red eyes and nose and cheeks were excusable. You brought eye drops and hoped the red would drain from your face before anybody noticed that it wasn't the cold causing it and you told yourself that if it did fade then you wouldn't have that night for another two months, and when you walked in you saw no one you knew until you turned your head and saw Ned, you saw Ned in the soft yellow light of the morning and you nearly cried because you saw him like that many times before, with Peter at sleepovers when you'd wake up early and again with Peter again when you'd walk to school with them. He saw you and smiled at you, and didn't look away in that don't-talk-to-me way but instead he glanced down at the empty area next to him behind the register then back up at you. You were terrified in that anxious, empty way but you yearned for a familiar friendship, so you walked over to him and spoke too much right away.

"I've missed you." You didn't sound polite or happy and that's what made it sincere.

"Oh, thank god," Ned says. "I thought it was one-sided."

"Is it?" You ask still, but you're smiling brightly for the first time since you cleared your phone contacts.

Ned snorts. "I would assume you'd infer from what I said that it's not, but whatever. I've missed you, too."

It was in that moment that Ned forgave you; in the same moment he realized there was anything to forgive you for. While Peter had dejectedly told him you were probably avoiding him because of something he did (Ned knew it was because he was together with MJ), he had still missed you without an answer, missed you in the same way you'd miss a friend the night after a sleepover, when you turn in your bed in heavy solitude and whisper to the wall that they hadn't slept next to, because if you'd look to the space where their mumbles had been then you wouldn't sleep all night. Your absence had him turn over to the wrong wall, and that hurt him.

You remember the time Ned had accidentally tripped you in gym class back in your junior year and you saw him nearly cry, then you spoke again. "I'm sorry." For what, Y/N? You try again, "I'm sorry for leaving you and not talking to you. That you had to miss me. I missed you a lot. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," says Ned, "I forgive you." He forgave you twice, because he hadn't realized how satisfyingly pleasant it feels when someone doesn't have to apologize but they do with their heart.

"Thank you," you say, because he welcomed you after you had cut him off for so long and he shouldn't have smiled so dearly at you, and you're grateful.

Ned helps you with your new job that day, then that week, and into the next week. You add his number back onto your phone and write it down in your journal that you've stopped writing in ever since Peter told you with so much joy and love that he was dating Michelle. You try not to think of them, just of how much you missed him and her each as their own. If you think of them, then that night you'd weep and weep until you felt so pained and sick that you shook, curling up and holding yourself as you hoped you'd fall asleep. You don't tell Ned about those nights and you don't ask about them, you don't ask about Peter at all but you know he's talking about him when he says "my friend," or more often, "a buddy of mine."

But Ned is smart, and he knows you had liked Peter back then and because you never ask about his friend (he knows that you know who he's talking about), he knows you like him now. He also knows that Peter and MJ broke up, he knows why and how and when and where and the boy was a boy of the Earth, he is rooted to the ground and because of that he knows it's not his place to tell you all of that. Ever-growing with the kindest smile, he knows that Peter needs to tell you himself if you're to ever know. And he wants you to know, so he decides that five weeks of talking daily with you, after reattaching yourself to him and him to you, that he'd start to reconnect you and Peter. He starts off conveniently.

"Look, dude, just get it over with and you'll feel better… What? Peter, no, you need a job, you're eighteen now–" Ned spots you walk in early one Thursday morning and talks just loud enough into his phone so that you could hear him say Peter. Surely enough, you duck your head as if you hadn't been listening. His name out of Ned's mouth, so bright like you remembered it, twists your heart. "Hey, man, I gotta go and you do too. You got this, I know you do. See ya'."

You stop beside Ned as he hangs up and tucks his phone into his back pocket. As always, you greet him with the biggest smile you can manage. These days, it's been some of your brightest, full ear-to-ear grins, but today you barely show your teeth. He notices and for a second he rethinks his plan, but you still love Peter and he knows he loves you too so he keeps going. "What was that all about?" You instantly regret that, but it flew out of your mouth before you could think of another conversation starter.

"Peter, actually," he does his best to sound gentle, but you inhale sharply at his name anyway. "He's going for a job interview later today and he's panicking again. As always. But I know he'll do just fine."

You were silent for a second too long, quickly spitting out something when you realized it. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, he was always like that… panicky. 'N stuff. Before things. He always did good and… yeah." You straighten your back and shift your weight from leg to leg, a poor attempt at looking casual that really just made you look just as nervous as you felt. You were looking down at Ned's shirt with a pleading gaze that he surely saw, begging him silently to just leave it be, to change topics, to not say his name again. He saw all of that, but he knew he had to.

He looked sympathetically at you as he spoke again, "Speaking of him, I think we should all meet up sometime or whatever. It's been a really long time since we hung out." He sounded like he was hurt, feeling awful for putting this on you but knowing it'll end up better in the end if you're willing to work with him.

You, on the other hand, sounded genuinely wounded. "Y-Yeah." You nearly wheezed. Unconsciously, your hand rested on your hip, angled so that your palm was more on the back of your hip. Ever since you could remember, emotional stress would center at your back and slowly start to crawl down your limbs. Always starting in your lower back, it ached with whatever you felt, then burned its way up, making the spot between your shoulders sore, then shooting down to your legs. If Ned insisted on talking about this for very long, you'd have to bring a stool to the register with you today. "I mean, I don't really think… he'd want to see me. After what I did."

"Actually, he really misses you." Gosh, he was trying so hard to be soft, but it felt like he was smothering you with a pillow. While he wasn't lying, he hadn't actually told Peter he's been hanging out with you. "He'd love to meet up sometime– I'll ask him later today. You can set the date."

"He…" misses me? you finish in your head. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, blood rushing up your neck and kicking your brain, then rushing back down before starting again. You were growing a bit of a headache, maybe from staying up late last night but maybe the aches were skipping your limbs today and getting right to your head, towards the back where it wouldn't let you lay down on your back later. "Uh… Yeah. Y-Yeah, I'll– I… Sure. Sometime."

Ned watched your discomfort with a wince that went unnoticed. He reminded himself it would get worse before it got better. "Anyway, we should start preparing. We open in an hour," he said, trying to edge you away from the topic, although it was too late to stop the images and memories of Peter from firmly planting themselves in your head. You nodded once, slightly, then again with more motion. That day, you made sure to never be seen without a water bottle so that you had an excuse when someone asked you why you were going to the bathroom so much. You'd go when your started thinking too much, to the point that it interfered with your ability to shelve books and even think to yourself a single, coherent thought. You'd excuse yourself, rush in, and find yourself gasping for air that you hadn't realized you lost.

You went home that day feeling more alone than not, despite the sudden vague reconnection with Peter. But you shouldn't be surprised, the thought of the boy has been a presence of loneliness for a while now. When you think of him, it's as if you're thinking yourself into a void, where you detach from the Earth, as if you exist in your body but your body does not exist in the world and it simply moves around in it. Sometimes you suspect that because you feel something so drastic and real that Peter wasn't the only cause of it, but it did you better to not think too deeply so that you don't return to work the next day with red eyes and darkish bags that hung underneath them. You went home that day and asked Ned to call you, because you hid your tears from him and knew that if he were with you in any way that you would be able to keep your promise of two months of freedom. When Ned was gone, you moved to the TV to distract you. Then you pulled out your phone and decided to read something, then opened up your laptop to watch a YouTube video, and after a minute you retrieved a book to read and a comic to look at– you were doing everything and nothing at once but what you weren't doing was sobbing and that was, in the end, what you wanted. You trembled a bit when you settled in bed that night, your body detached from the Earth for a while when you panicked in your (too) many thoughts of Peter and other things, although you don't remember what those other things are because its easier to just say one thing, despite him being the hardest thing to say at all. You had to stumble out of bed and lay on the ground– on your side because the very back of your head still hurt– look at things in your room one at a time, then listen to things outside one at a time, tell yourself what apricots and your favorite tea taste like before you could finally feel the carpet beneath you again. Your head spun with busyness and contradictions as you got back in bed, but you slept right away and that was all left to touch in the morning.

And Ned was true to his word; when he had to hang up to catch a bus, he made sure to text Peter when he got a seat. It took him ten tries, but he decided to bluntly tell Peter that he's been talking to you, and then gently ease into his proposal of hanging out again. Then, because he stayed with Peter in those months you were gone, he felt it was right to hook another text onto that one: he knew you felt something for him, and he told Peter that he didn't knew exactly what you were feeling (and that you probably didn't either) but that it was something reminiscent of strong love, broken love, fear, and a lot of missing him. You had looked bewildered at the mention of Peter, and he told him that, too. Told him that he should try with you. Told him that you needed him to try with you, or, at the very least, you needed him (not him, but him there, you needed his nearness, the familiarity Ned had fulfilled had to be filled by more than just him). And Peter answered with time, so he went back to the usual, being the Earth boy he always was, sleeping close to the ground on the first floor of a cheap apartment that looked magical later that week when he taped up all of his posters and switched out the bright, fluorescent white lights for the yellowed lights he always preferred because they look more like sunlight.

So Peter, in his dress shirt and nice pants and new shoes, sitting with his back straight against the wall near the entrance of his apartment, still sweating from the conversation that had happened hours earlier, closed his eyes and remembered you in the moonlight like you had remembered him and Ned in the sunlight, he remembered those many late night conversations he had with you in which he was filled to the brim with nothing but nerves and stress and anxiety, he remembered how you'd remind him all night and day and week that he was important and needed and okay and here, on this planet, in this town, living and breathing and growing and that he's not as small as he felt nor as big as he fears. He remembered how you'd call him sunshine, sunshine and he told Ned that he needs you because he wants to hear that again. A sky boy he was– he was constricted and bound by his own breathing so he threw off his clothes, pulled on his suit of red and blue, and sprinted across the roof of a long, tall building so he could jump off and then web himself to the next building. He toppled over and rolled along the hard surface of what was probably some apartment complex, he stared up at the last sky blues for the day and panted. His throat burned with his wheezes, but soon he smelled the city and smiled, deep in his mind he was sure that you'd call him sunshine, sunshine again soon. He slept long after you and Ned had fallen to slumber, after flying around buildings and waving at an infant and helping an older couple catch their bus.