"I THINK I LIKE ARMIN ARLERT."
"CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING THE LAST TO FIND OUT."
romeo and juliet reborn
in the 2000's as two high
schoolers but ones
a PC obsessed anime geek
and the others a total
bitch with designer shoes.
social hierarchy quee...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
"hey pipsqueak."
there stood three menacingly tall men towering over armin arlert, more of the boy type, sort of vertically challenged. pushed up against the counter possessing countless red-cups containing liquor, finished bottles, and vapes. a strong grip was holding him in place by the collar, noticeably fighting for any source of breath, it was a total calculator-meets-jock nightmare.
his two very hands had been scraping at the man's, trying to release the grasp to receive any bit of air but completely incapable of doing so due to the difference in strength. although struggling, if he learned one thing from any bully interaction ever, it was to keep an unfazed expression.
the perpetrator mock laughs, "who even invited you?"
this was not the plan, he totally became an even bigger roadblock! clutched like a ragdoll by an emotionally-unstable meathead, and suddenly you were exiting the dream phase and becoming the unwilling lead in a highschool version of the bachelorette meets fight club.
part of you just wanted to carry on, vanish into the crowd like you'd never crossed this path, on search for your dignity and a lip gloss reapplication. frankly, you hadn't the time for unscheduled nerd defense side quests. he apparently couldn't follow simple instructions, to stay put.
"it was grice, wasn't it? i saw you two canoodling in the library."
your eyes immediately widened in realization. of course, was the voice not a dead giveaway? too caught up in the prey being armin you hadn't even noticed who the predator was. eyes trailing up past the man's muscular arm, the face of porco galliard came into full view, unfortunately. grey piercing eyes, slicked back blonde hair in all its glory. a disgusting look of dominance was how he'd been opposing armin, as if seeing the blonde in pain was satisfying.
on both sides were two mere followers who thought they were hot shit simply because they'd been on the football team. the superiority complex they'd receive from being a football player was sickening. maybe it'd been a way of acceptance, but the three even wore their letterman jackets, the sight was so ludicrous it was almost funny. three nitwits getting off to tormenting someone as vulnerable as armin.
by now the dj — an a/v student who ymir knew; another pothead with one pierced ear who never seemed to take off these blue-tinted sunglasses — had even stopped the music, scoping out the commotion. the lights were back to normal and just about everyone's attention was on the uproar. it'd been enough to partially sober everybody up, at least enough to perceive what'd been going on.
you couldn't just leave him there to get physically demolished infront of the whole class in attendance. a sigh escapes, already annoyed by your own sudden grasp for character development, completely abandoning that dramatic exit plan.
