#loyd

loyal — lloyd

Lloyd's been so distant lately. You refused to believe he'd ever not want to be by your side. Your relationship with Lloyd was a steady one. You both had feelings for each other, and Lloyd confessed, which you had said yes to. Your relationship seemed good at first. He bought you flowers, showed you love every day, and you did all those things those cute couples did, but clearly it wasn't enough to make him stay.

You knew about Lloyd's exhaustion from dealing with all the Sons of Garmadon stuff and how frustrating it could be for someone who seemed nice at first to manipulate you just to bring your father back. You felt so much melancholy you couldn't explain. There was always an empty space beside you on the shared bed you both used to sleep on. Now it was just you.

Every time you saw her anywhere near him, you'd feel a pang of anxiousness. Your supposed boyfriend of three years hanging around the princess who always tried dangerously to flirt with him, not knowing you were his girlfriend.

Seeing the rest of the team hang out in cute pairs made your heart ache. Where was Lloyd at times like this? At times where he would let your hands tangle in his blonde, messy hair while kissing you passionately like you always did.

You couldn't take lying on the bed by yourself anymore. You decided you'd go talk to him tomorrow. You knew exactly where to find him. Lloyd would usually be in the gym of the monastery, probably doing his bench press.

Lloyd sat on the bench lifting weights. The sound from his wired earpiece could be heard faintly. There was no one else in the gym. He had on his hood that had no sleeves, and the hood was unbuttoned, leaving nothing to the imagination but his toned chest and abs and his flexed biceps. You couldn't bear to lose all of this.

Seeing you walk in with a sad look on your face, he unplugged the earpiece carefully before looking up at you.

"Babe?"

"Don't 'babe' me!" you folded your arms. "Why are you avoiding me?" you asked with a serious expression.

"What makes you think I'd avoid you?"

He rested the weights on the floor, approaching you slowly, his hands coming to cup your cheeks.

"You don't sleep with me. You never take the time to say, 'Hey, how about I go hang out with my girlfriend?' No, you don't do those things with me anymore!"

His arms wrapped around your lower body, pulling you against him. Your hands were automatically placed on his slippery chest.

"Of course I want to hang out with you. It's just all of this has been getting to me and..." he paused. "I just never have any time for myself. All of this is so hard to process," he admitted.

Understanding his stress, you decided you'd let go of it. That was your biggest mistake. You should've brought her up while you had the chance.

Excited for your third anniversary with Lloyd, you bought him his favorite cake to celebrate. Walking into the dimly lit room, you were sure when you had left Lloyd wasn't home, but the faint sound of shuffling could be heard, followed by a sharp intake of breath and the sound of a wet, rhythmic sliding.

You didn't want to believe it.

Pushing the door open lightly, your heart sank.

"What?"

The girl in his bed immediately pulled away, and Lloyd instinctively backed away, approaching you with his hands in front of his chest. "Y/n, I know what it looks like, but..."

"N-No... Lloyd, I, I..."

Your eyes felt heavy, your heartbeat picking up at a dangerous speed."It's our third anniversary..." Your voice was hoarse, your eyes streaming. "Y/n, wait, please!"You didn't look back. You pushed past Kai, who had come to check on what was going on, and he too was shocked. His face was full of disdain. "I didn't teach you like this, bro." He shook his head disappointedly.

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to spend your last moments with him.

Everybody else knew but him.

Yeah, it was awesome and interesting to draw all these pieces, but at the same time, it was challenging, because the Warframe characters are incredibly detailed, and it's hard for me to draw so many details, so I cut them down in places, trying to preserve the basic design

And as you may have noticed, this is the first time I've drawn Samantha, Shadowman, and Dr. Monty in addition to the Primis, and a similar story with Albrecht, Loid (Necroloid), Kaya, Ryoku, Minerva, and Velmir

warnings: language prolly 💀, very cute and fluffy tbh! jewell is so adorable!! luv her zownnn. slow burn lol part one

summary!: It’s the summer of 2024, and you and your former teammate Jewell have been selected for the olympics. You were ecstatic not only to have the opportunity but to finally play alongside your good friend once again. Yet, everyone can’t help but notice the tension between you two….

There was a knock at your door. You shuffled off your small twin bed, the setup all too reminiscent of your college days. “Who is it?” you called out. The people in the Olympic Village were so kind—almost too kind. Everyone was hyper-fixated on camaraderie, but all you cared about was winning. A bit harsh? Sure. But you didn’t care. You were the only player handpicked to join the team, and it meant everything to you. Things with the Sky were questionable at best. You loved your new teammates—some more than others—but you hated being traded, especially being traded away from her. Nobody had on-court chemistry like you and Jewell.

When the trade talks came through after the championship, it tore the whole team apart. Worst of all, it ripped you away from your best friend. You both kept in touch, of course, but distance and busy schedules had strained the relationship. The late-night store runs, the prank calls to other teammates, the brunch dates? All of it was over. You hated it. Which is exactly why you worked your ass off to make the Olympic team. You knew there was no way A'ja or Diana wouldn’t make the cut, so you banked on Sue’s empty spot being left for you. Luckily, you were right.

You opened the door to find Jewell standing there with a few of the practice players in their warmups. You furrowed a brow, confusion written all over your face. “So, hey, what’s going on?” you asked, stepping outside in your pajamas.

“I was just wondering if you wanted to practice with me,” Jewell said, an almost devious smirk playing on her lips. “I feel like we need to get back into our groove.”

You glanced around, scratching the back of your neck. “You know, I was really looking forward to exploring France. Or maybe resting. But—”

“Please, come on, Y/N!” she begged, her big, beady eyes practically piercing your soul.

You sighed dramatically. “Yo begging ass kills me!” you said, rolling your eyes. “I don’t even know where my clothes are. You wrong for catching me off guard like this.”

Jewell snickered, playfully hitting your arm, obviously tickled by your inconvenience. “What y’all be saying?” she teased. “No shade, but you need to practice.”

You could feel your face flush as an embarrassed smile crept across it. “This cannot be real,” you said, bursting into laughter.

“What?” Jewell asked, feigning innocence. “I’m not trying to be mean, but we’ve got real competition out here. This isn’t like playing against the sk—”

You cut her off with a playful shove, laughing as you opened the door wider. “You ain’t shit, I hope you know that. And for the record, we beat y’all that one time,”

Jewell’s eyes instantly rolled to the back of her head. “You know we were having an off day! Don’t think it’ll happen again. Now hurry your ass up, bro.”

You shook your head, still laughing as you shuffled back into your room to find something to wear.

As you dug through your suitcase, a twinge of nostalgia washed over you. It wasn’t just about practice or the competition; it was about getting back into the rhythm with her. It was about being around her in general. You knew she wasn't happy, and she knew you weren’t either. You two had known each other since college and ended up getting drafted just a few years apart. You instantly clicked—both on and off the court—which led to multiple championships.

You couldn’t deny, though, you did need practice. You were on a streak of off-games, with the wins only thanks to the grace of God. If you flaked in France, you wouldn't hear the end of it. The countless "Get ready to learn Chinese" tweets had already killed your ego enough, who knows what they'd say if you fucked up a gold medal.

You met Jewell at the team's designated practice court, squeezing in a quick one-on-one while the practice players changed. The ball was in her hands, and you were locked in, defending with everything you had. You towered over her, but Jewell was lightning fast. You’d watched her get double, even triple-teamed, and still sink a shot without breaking a sweat.

"C’mon, Ms. Loyd, take the shot," you teased, pressing up against her, hands high, every bump and nudge intentional.

Jewell stepped back, a move you’d seen countless times, and danced around you like you weren’t even there. She took the shot, the ball flying through the air with deadly precision. Without thinking, you leaped, reaching as high as you could, arms straining, desperate to block it. You were partially successful—the ball didn’t make it—but the sharp sting in your finger was a painful reminder that you weren’t quite as fast as she was.

You silently cursed to yourself, shaking your hand in a futile attempt to make the pain go away. "Good block, but you’re still too slow. You almost didn’t block it," Jewell said, her words honest to a fault—which was so like her. "And your movement is kind of sloppy. It's giving 'big' for no reason. You think you can go toe to toe with those tall ass German girls at this rate?"

You sat in silence, her words stinging more than you cared to admit. She wasn’t the type to sugarcoat anything, and she wasn’t lying. Ever since you’d gotten the news that you made the team, a constant feeling of imposter syndrome had weighed on you. You didn’t even know how you made it onto the roster, and it seemed like Jewell was wondering the same thing.

I’ve been drawing my new dnd character because I have a newfound attachment to her.