#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
🍀
Useless Details Ask Meme I OPEN
Send one of the following symbols to find out more about my muse!
🍀 What kind of jewelry are they wearing? What’s their favorite piece?
You will always find Lucas wearing one or few ringlets on his fingers, and sporting thin gold/metal chains wrapped around his neck - sometimes accompanied with a snazzy pendant. Depending on the occasion, sharp canines may be adorned with custom made golden grillz to fit their unusual size. He also got his ears pierced to wear simple eardrop’s or classic hoops, included with an interest in a variety of bracelets. And one day, he may decide to get his nose pierced.
This wolf boi is most fond of some necklaces he stashed away in a box hidden in his closet, pieces of jewelry his former wolf pack once gave him as a goodbye gift decades ago. They hold sentimental value to him, the power they hold strong enough to bring an overwhelming flood of nostalgia onto his conscious as they echo a reminder of his lycan wolf identity and where he came from.
*LEARN MORE ABOUT LUCAS’S HEADCANONS HERE*
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
Lucas for bedroom, bathroom and living room please x
Iriiiiis! thank you for this one especially. anything for Este’s bestie (don’t tell Chelsea that) 💛✨
Bedroom:
How does this character sleep? (Position, sleeping habits, bedtime routines) Lucas is a soldier sleeper. he knows the health benefits behind it, and how good it is for your bones and posture. when sleeping with someone else, he prefers to have them with their head on his chest. he likes to hold and make them feel safe (bonus points bc it still lets him sleep on his back!!) a strict night routine. tea, shower, teeth, skin care, hydrate, affirmations and breathing exercises, sleep. but all of that goes out the window with any *ahem* surprise guests (he’ll still do his face and teeth, but just the quick version).
What are their pajamas like? he’s not as picky about this as you might think. clothing just needs to be loose and breathable.
What do they dream about usually? his subconscious that he often tries to drown out comes alive in the night time. strange, metaphorical dreams, sometimes turning into dark night terrors that he always seems to forget when he wakes up.
How neat/tidy is this character? to absolutely no one’s surprise — very. everything has its place, and is often a stress cleaner. and he’s stressed... a lot.
How affectionate is this character? standard public affection is his forte, and that includes everyone, not just romantic partners. he’s not afraid of hugs, hand holding, pet names, etc. he’s confident enough in his feelings to not feel self-conscious about showing it. but the tender displays like a kiss on the forehead, sweet snuggling, stroking someone’s face... those will be private. unless he’s bold and sure enough.
Bath + Living Room under the cut!
Bathroom
How does the character prepare in the morning? hydrate, hydrate, stretches, then coffee and light reading, a morning jog if he can, shower and teeth, then spend a good hour on hair and picking out an outfit lol, ending with a cologne that suits the day.
Do they sing in the shower? YES! you can most definitely catch him singing when he’s in an especially good mood. usually an 80s South Korean pop or some city pop styled jam that his mother used to play when he was younger. and he can surprisingly carry a tune.. except those high notes... oof 🤕
What kind of hair product/make-up do they use?
high quality wax (it’s often less shinier than pomade with a better grip, or so he says). he has an intensive skin care regime, but he refuses to live without the hydrating products (moisturizer and serums) and sun screen (no white cast, spf 40 at least, of course)
How clean is this character? extremely. but it doesn’t mean he can’t get his hands dirty for sure 👀
Does the character have thousands of shampoo/shower gel bottles by the shower, or do they use only the bare essentials? only the standards he lives and swears by. maybe a solid 4-5.
Living Room:
How does the character spend weekends? typically resting and lounging (maybe a spa day even). maybe a nice long ride in his motorcycle to nowhere in particular. he’s more like to go out and socialize on weekdays so he has an excuse to dip out early enough.
What kind of movies does the character watch? tricky one. but I think he likes films that are polished and have some level of depth to them. you won’t catch him watching a munblecore indie or a major blockbuster. something with anti-heroes, maybe a little gritty and definitely aesthetically pleasing.
What do they do with friends? he loves taking out his friends for a good time: on trips, to restaurants, or bars/clubs. only around his closest friends does he feel like he doesn’t have to put on a show or entertain.
What’s their favorite pastime? long drives and rides. no music, no talking, just the fresh air and wind on his face.
What’s their favorite TV show/film? Mad Men!! he loves the production design and style of that period. and I know you’d think he’s watching it for Don, but Peggy’s his favorite.
send me a character + a room prompt, & I’ll tell you my headcanons!
#I really could’ve elaborated so much more for Lucas but I’m trying not to be extra 👀#only a few more left now 😂#litg lucas#rr asks
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stranger Things: If Billy Ever Needs a Redemption Arc, This Is My Headcanon (WIP)
The void, the in between of worlds, is a place few know and even fewer visit. Darker than midnight beneath cloud cover, as dank as a swamp in spring, with static akin to changing stations on a radio. A shadowed figure strolls through the dank dark between rows of doors, the station changing between each one. One in particular catches the figure’s attention and they open it to the sounds of music from outside the year they know. With a slick smile, the figure opens the door and steps through to the sound of Pink’s “Secrets”.
---
Pa’s Garage and Diner sits on the edge of Hawkins, Indiana, standing proud along the highway to serve its purpose as a refuel for truckers. Whether the trucker needs to eat, sleep, or simply pick up some gas, Paul Blacks built the Diner to serve the profession the accident of ‘69 had forced him out of. Up until her death Saundra, Paul’s wife, had run the diner end while Paul dealt with the mechanics and gas end of things. She is the one who insisted on taking in foster children, and for that Paul still finds himself grateful. From the system they had given a home to Saskia Dawn, a native teen they had managed to get their hands on after she was kicked out of her final residential school. Once Saundra passed, the torch passed from wife to husband, and father to daughter.
Saskia Dawn sits in the open garage, her foot tapping to a beat only she can hear while she works on a 1949 Harley-Davidson WLA. She hums as she works, hopping off her stool and triple-stepped to change out her tools. When she finds what she is looking for, she twirls and taps back to her station.
A bang of metal hitting concrete breaks her attention. “Fer the love o’ Gods,” she mutters as she grabs a pipe wrench and marches toward a shelf full of spare parts. “Can’t get one night o’ peace, can I?” Saskia Dawn demands of the invisible entity. She squats down to pick up the offending rim.
A black and brown ophidian lunges toward her off the shelf. It opens its maw to reveal several rows of teeth. Saskia snatches the ophidian out of the air and slams it onto the ground. Her heavy boot stomps on its head. The satisfying crack of bone echos in the otherwise empty garage. She swings the pipe wrench down over and over until she severs the ophidian’s head from its body. She picks it up by the tail and scoffs. “Geese woulda been hard.”
---
Fear breeds anger. Fear breeds resentment. Fear breeds hatred.
Neil Hargrove slams his son into the bookcase his wife, Susan Hargrove, had just purchased a few days before. “I bring you here to start a new life, and this is how you repay me?” he yells, the quiet scream that sends shivers down Susan’s spine and makes Max Mayfield cover her ears even though she is in her bedroom. “By getting in trouble with the police?”
Billy looks away from his father. For all his bravado, he can’t find the strength to stand up to his father. Nor can he find the words to speak. Fighting Steve Harrington is easy. Steve doesn’t know how to hold his ground.
“Is jail what you want? Look at me.”
He’s frozen.
“I said, look at me.”
Billy closes his eyes to steel himself. If Max hadn’t opened her damn mouth to her father, they would still be in California. If Susan hadn’t said yes to Neil, Billy would have left and not looked back. He would have been free. Neil grabs his face and forces Billy to look at him.
“You will not make another mistake. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“Useless felon,” Neil snarls and gives in to the temptation of slapping his son again. “Pull this shit again, and you’ll be without a roof over your head.” He shoves Billy into the shelving unit one more time before taking a step back and turning his attention to Susan. “Go make dinner.”
Billy takes just enough time to compose himself before he storms outside and throws himself into his car. He takes off, ignoring the sight of Max climbing onto Lucas Sinclair’s bike. He still remembers the thunk of the spiked bat landing between his legs like a guillotine. Fighting with her is not worth it, not that she deserves to suffer for her mother’s stupidity either. She could have chosen different losers to hang out with, though.
The next time he slows down is in front of the Wheeler house. Karen Wheeler is home, but so is her ingrate of a husband, Ted. Billy hesitates and takes a drag of his cigarette. The thought of storming in and stealing Karen away on one of their rendezvous, Ted be damned. Bastard wouldn’t notice, but Holly needs her mother and as much as Billy doesn’t care, Karen does and he doesn’t want to lose such a nice piece of tail quite yet. She is fun, and free.
And the knowledge. Oh man, the knowledge.
The corner of his mouth twitches and he drives. Scenes fly by his window and he loses himself into the blaring radio and the empty asphalt. He could just keep going, not look back. Just like he’d intended in California before everything went to shit.
Except he hasn’t topped up the gas, or grabbed the money from under his mattress, and the car is rolling to a stop. He hisses through his teeth as he stares at the gas gauge with its arrow pointing to the E. His fists smash against the steering wheel over and over, not quite enough to break the wheel the same way he had broken Steve Harrison’s face, but close. “SHIT!”
Billy flings himself from the car and kicks the useless piece of junk, still swearing. The approaching truck, an ancient thing that look as though its lifespan should have ended more than a decade ago, does little to dissuade Billy’s abuse on his car.
“You alright, boy-o?” the driver asks. Billy swings around, caught off guard by the good-natured voice. The stranger, a balding man whose hair must have migrated from his head to his arms, smiles with the patience of a saint. “What’s got your goat, aye?”
Billy shoves his hands into his back pockets and holds his chin high to curb his embarrassment. “Ran out of gas.”
“Aye. Cars’ll do that. Normally I got a jerry, but a sweet li’l lady needed a bit of a rescue out the way. Hop in, and I’ll get you taken care of.”
Billy shifts his weight with indecision. The adults ignore him unless he does something worthy of their attention, and they’re all too happy to chastise him for it. The man seems harmless, but harmless is not always so.
“Could walk, too,” the man says and gestures down the highway toward Hawkins. “Gas station’s ‘bout a mile back. You look fit, shouldn’t be an issue.”
With one more curse, Billy storms around to the truck’s passenger side door and yanks it open. “I’ll take the ride, thank you,” he grumbles and pulls himself inside.
The man’s smile turns into a grin and he holds out a wide, worn hand. “Name’s Paul. Nice to meet-ya.”
Billy takes the hand, noting the calluses and burn marks between the mottling. “Billy,” he introduces himself. The man, Paul, radiates a steady warmth as he drives. He talks without expecting Billy to answer, and Billy is torn between annoyance and muddled gratitude.
How he missed the turn-off to the garage was beyond him. The sign may as well be neon, with the chipping mint green paint with red lettering not needing help in standing out, and the structure is...obvious. Two pumps sit in front of a diner, with an extra door presumably leading into the attached garage. A woman around his age sits in front of the second door, one leg swung lazily over the other as she smokes a cigarette. Her dark eyes watch him beneath fringe bangs in a way that make his stomach flip. Instinctively he checks his hair. She ashes the cigarette against the side of her armrest.
“Saskia Dawn’ll take care of ya, boy-o. Looks like the kitchens need me,” Paul says and hands Billy the large jerry can. Billy follows Paul’s gaze into the windows of the diner where something has caught fire.
He huffs. “Okay.”
“Come in when you get your car back. I got some pie for you.” The warmth surprises him. He nods to Paul’s back and straightens his jacket. He approaches the woman, Saskia Dawn by his guess, and gives her one of his most charming smiles. The same one that had Karen falling over herself when she had opened the door that fateful day.
“What’s a pretty thing like you, doing in a place like this?” he asks with as much sincerity as he can muster as he props his foot onto a log being used as a side table and leans over her.
Saskia Dawn blows smoke in his face with the most disinterested expression he has ever witnessed. She sees through me. A ripple of power emanates from her and he can’t hide the shiver. His smile only wavers when she asks, “Depends. What’s a donkey’s behind like you need?”
He forces a laugh and she cocks a brow. Lifting the jerry can, he waves it in front of her. “What do you think?”
“Haircut,” she quips dryly. She stabs the cigarette out in a crystal ashtray and pushes herself out of the chair. Billy frowns as he steps away to let her by. She snatches the jerry can out of his hand and walks to the pumps. “Pa say you were payin?”
“He has pie,” Billy said, cursing himself as he follows her to the pump. She grunts and starts filling the jerry can. He pulls his cigarettes, placing one between his lips as he goes for his lighter.
“No smokin around the pumps,” Saskia Dawn interjects. He flicks the lighter, it doesn’t light. “Don’t care if you want to blow yourself up, but I’m interested in dyin today.”
Billy purses his lips, but the quiet power reminds him of his father and he has quite enough confrontation for one night. He shoves the cigarette back into his jeans. “Happy now?” he snaps at her. This earns him a shrewd smile.
“It’ll do,” she says. It feels like praise.
“My money’s in my car,” he starts, leaning against the pump and shoving his hands in his pockets where he fiddled with the lighter. “I’ll-”
“Don’t worry about it. Pa’s got pie,” Saskia Dawn says, as though he is supposed to understand the damn pie reference. He balls his fists. “Means he don’t expect to be paid. Where you parked?”
---
The drive with Saskia Dawn back to his car is different from the ride to the gas station with Paul. She is quiet, smoking a fresh cigarette and tapping the ash out the window, looking straight ahead. Billy wonders if her silence stems from her father’s ramblings. He watches her and realizes the quiet is just as peaceful and warm as Paul’s stories.
“If you don’t return the jerry can yourself, keep in mind that I’ll find ya.”
Billy blinks and sits up as the truck coasts to a stop. “I’ll return it,” he says, hand on the door handle. Saskia Dawn starts to give him a nod, but something outside catches her attention. She grabs his arm. The grip is strong, but it doesn’t hurt. Billy can’t see what she’s looking at.
“Wait here,” she orders, her expression serious as she barrels out of the truck and grabs a pitchfork from the truck bed. Billy hops out and she twirls to face him as the night air fills with a rattling sound. “Back. Inside. Now.” The urgency in the order means squat.
“No one tells me what to do,” Billy growls, stepping toward her in a way that causes most people to change their pants. She stares at him as the rattling gets louder. It’s too dark to tell if she’s blinking, but she isn’t rising to the occasion. If he throws a punch, she won’t bother meeting it with anything except the pitchfork.
“Suit yourself.”
A hiss catches Billy’s attention, just over the rattle. He can’t pinpoint the sound at first, not until the pitchfork lands next to his foot and he hops back to see her fighting a diamondback rattlesnake. At least that’s all he can assume it is in the dark, though it’s large and fat for a snake and unearthly wails fill the air, mixing together with Saskia Dawn’s angry breaths. “Stupid. Don’t learn. Motherf-...GAH!” The pounding of her pitchfork gets heavier as the creature writhes and stills. She brandishes the pitchfork at Billy. “Please, get the sack from the back of the truck. When we-”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Boy, do I sound like I’m tellin right now? Get the damn sack and enjoy the damn pie. I don’t have time for your shit right now.” The quiet power she wields roars over Billy like a tidal wave. His anger builds and he loses focus, the world fading to haze. When he comes to Saskia Dawn has him pinned to the side of her truck with more force than his father had mustered when throwing him into the bookcase. He struggles, but the grip is there and he feels her power and he wants it as much as he wants to hide from it. His breathing slows and he closes his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, because that is what is expected of him.
“I don’t want your apologies. I want the rucksack.”
He staggers when she releases him, knees quacky from the rush of adrenaline. Blood ran down his temple and he saw the broken bits of glass that should have been from her head going through the window, but somehow she had put his through instead. “I’m sorry,” he breathes again.
She grabs the rucksack from the back of the truck, along with a sharp metal stick and scoops the unidentifiable corpse into the sack. “I told you. I don’t want no apology. Should only say ‘em when you mean ‘em, and right now you’re in shock, not remorseful.” She ties the sack off and tosses into the bed in what can only be described as a single motion. “If you want some good pie, go back to the diner. And watch out for snakes.” --- TBC
8 notes
·
View notes
Photo
//This is why Lucas is against the killing of wolves (even other large predators) as a mean to eradicate them off the land; the ignorance of humans when it comes to the natural environment is an easy way to arouse hints of annoyance if the topic is brought up in normal conversation, particularly if someone holds onto the negative beliefs surrounding wolves.
So one of my tweets kinda blew up. :v
291K notes
·
View notes
Photo
CONGRATULATIONS, RO!
You have been accepted to play the role of NICHOLAS MERCER with the faceclaim of DOUGLAS BOOTH. Please create your account and send it to the main in the next 24 hours. I am well aware of your first choice, but trust me when I say that I would have done you a great injustice not giving you the role of Nick. The twists you have picked for him, the paragraph sample you have masterfully done, every tweak and change and elaboration convinced me that you are the perfect player for him. You understand a character that I have always found tricky and have captured him to the last detail. A simple compliment regarding the twist on his relationship with Lucas wouldn’t suffice, for it is a detail that deserves endless praise. You are an incredibly good writer and, it seems, one of the friendliest people on this site — and I cannot wait to see more of both you and Nicholas. Thank you for your cooperation and dedication, and know that they did not go unnoticed.
Name and pronouns: Ro - He/Him
Age: 26
Time-zone: PST
Activity level: I am a film student in third year, about to head into the summer. I tend to be very busy, but I’ve also been committed to RP as a part of my regular life and creative outlet for upwards of ten years. I should always make activity (and I’ll always contact you if I run into any issues) and I’d likely be doing replies a couple times a week. I try to lurk on the daily, but if I work in the industry again this summer, the hours are insane so I tend to be on the most on the weekends!
Triggers: removed for privacy
IN CHARACTER INFORMATION
Desired character: Nicholas Mercer - Nick is a very enthralling character to me. I’m drawn to the way he is at war with himself - the distaste and discomfort he feels when he looks in the mirror and can hardly meet his own gaze. I’m drawn to the compulsion he has to keep up this act and web of lies, despite the growing shame he feels at his own actions, because the shame he feels by his own roots is worse. I love that he’s a charmer, and has always been praised for his looks and brains and potential, and yet his smiles and confidence are in many ways an act carefully designed to hide the deep seeded insecurity and uncertainty underneath.
Gender and pronouns of the character: Male, He/Him
Changes: FCs: Man, this is hard to choose. Douglas Booth (I didn’t know he was in the film actually, haha, I’d never seen it) he’s a good fit with appropriate charm in his gifs, Daniel Sharman, who would maybe be my first pick, were it easier to find smiley-charmy gifs of him, and Zayn Malik - a less stereotyped approach, but I kind of like that and he’s got great gifs for it. If i get this role you may have to help me choose LOL. I’m unsure who’s best. I keep flip-flopping. At first I thought Douglas was the best bet but now I’m not sure.
Traits: Nicholas grew up believing that his value lied in how unlike the rest of the world he was. He was praised for his looks and his sharp, surprising mind. His teachers, classmates and parents spoke of little other than what a spectacle he was; how he stood out from the crowd, how his shine would make so many envy him. He was taught that these were the things that mattered because these were the things those who were meant to care for him seemed to value most about him. These were the things they were proud of.
And so growing up he developed followers and admirers, but not friends. He grew up having to protect these material and shallow things about himself because they were the only things his parents seemed truly invested in. Money and admiration were what he needed to be somebody. To matter and to make a mark, to not disappear into irrelevance. In short, he is deeply insecure and has a skewed sense of self worth. He only values in himself what he believes others have valued in him, and has become obsessed with protecting that ‘It-boy’ image in order to maintain his reason to be seen.
Headcanons/plot ideas:
Nick is a hard one to pinpoint, and I could go a few different ways for what he’s studying. Currently I’m thinking Law or Social Anthropology.
Nick is gay. I think it says something remarkable (and remarkably sad) about his determination to marry for money and status, and it speaks loads about his self-image. It makes me absolutely ache, how trapped he feels, how desperate and how self-loathing, and that’s the real reason he can’t look himself in the eye when he looks in a mirror. He’s ashamed on one level, for being ‘poor’ and not good enough, and ashamed on a whole other level, for being fraudulent, a liar, a deceiver and a coward. His levels of self-loathing and pain are bone deep and twisted around his ribs in a way that truly inspires me as a character driven writer. I could explore him endlessly. He has so much potential and I love him so much!
I’m interested in looking at his relationship with Lucas. I don’t want to rush any decisions until I get my feet wet and explore him a little and let the character show me how he feels, but I could see his relationship with Lucas as being one potentially unrequited of feelings Nick may be keeping tucked under his tongue. With everything else he’s feeling and hiding, and the fact that Lucas is one of the few people he feels really connected to at school, I could see that as being something he struggles with or something that develops. Either way, however, it’s a complicated and precious dynamic I’m excited about.
PARA SAMPLE
Scholarship.
The word felt filthy on the edges of his tongue. Before it even left his throat, stuck there at the wall of his too-white teeth. It felt like a betrayal. It felt like a confession that would tumble him apart. It felt like a truth so ugly it made all his lies feel like beautiful, caressing companions.
Scholarship. He lived in fear of the way the word exposed him, and as he stood in the men’s room, palms gripping the edge of the damp, marble counters, he hoped to God it never came up with his date sitting across the table from him. Hoped she hadn’t heard, somehow, through a furiously whispered rumour that he sometimes felt certain was ghosting at his tailcoat as he strutted through the corridors of Oxford. He was haunted by any remnants of his past still surface enough to peer through the veil of glass and sand he’d tried to bury it with.
He’s spent years perfecting his walk, his talk, his privileged smile and he’s so good at it now that he at times can even convince himself. Some days, he’s almost reinvented the truth. Has become so familiar with the lies that they’ve made him a nest in a safe, new reality.
But the rest of the time he lived in constant fear of that other shoe dropping.
The back splash tiles of the bathroom sink were pitch black and so shiny he could see himself in them. It was like even the room was laughing at him, and his reluctancy to look himself in the mirror with any kind of conviction. Too cowardly to face the twisted boy that Oxford had mangled him into. It was easier to blame the school. Easier to say that the pressure of the Riot Club and the prestige he was so constantly cloaked in, was responsible for his poorly justified choices, for his backburner-ing of integrity. His pride was forged in the cold grey slate of his artifice, and if you looked too closely you could see the places it was chipped.
The echoing sound of the door opening, of cutlery and chatter swooping into the space before the door slid shut again, shook him from his reverie and he twisted ornate taps with hurried fingers, running his palms under the flow as the sound of fine-Italian soles clacked behind his back and stopped at a urinal.
He breathed. Exhaled the breath he’d been holding, actually, and cupped cool water into his hands to splash it over his face. He didn’t always lose his cool. In fact, in company, he rarely did. The fact that he’d gotten so God damn good at this was half the reason guilt feasted on him as savagely as it did. He didn’t crack with an audience, but the pressure to perform so consistently made his solitude more of a place of unwanted reflection than of refuge. The silence gave him time to stop and think and hate and regret; all things he neither needed nor had the energy for. What he needed was to be kept busy. Moving constantly, his performance uninterrupted, so that in doing so he might forget everything it was he was running from. Everything he was covering up.
It was all Lana’s fault. He’d been holding the door open for his date (a pretty blonde thing with jewels around her neck worth the same dollar value as the tits sitting too-high and too-solid on her narrow ribcage to be natural) when Lana Chambers had strolled passed clutching her handbag and ducking under the umbrella of whatever current company she was in. And he’d seen it in her eyes—the nugget of truth she wielded, a weapon that could so easily destroy him. He’d seen the shadow of knowledge flick across her raven’s wings eyes as she’d glanced at him, then at his date.
He hated the way she looked at him—regardless of what she was thinking, he could’t shake the feeling she knew what he was up to. Knew all his darkest secrets, all the workings of his seduction on these women who would stabilize his status as top-tier. Couldn’t help but fear she would find a way to air his dirty laundry for the world to see—even if she hadn’t been privy to much of it. There was no way she could know the things he’d never told a soul. No way she could know how deeply his seduction of these women was a lie. No way she could know the way he looked at Lucas.
She couldn’t know. But his best friend was the only thing in his world among the elite that felt genuine and he couldn’t help but fear she’d find a way to take that from him. She was the only one with the power to.
So fragile, he was, for such a God among mortals. So tenuous was his falsified confidence, his calculated swagger. He could be taken apart so easily by a woman who knew too much. One thread was all it would take to unravel his web of lies. How long until he cracked under the heavy choke of his sacrifices? What he was giving up in order to obtain the one thing that he could count on making him memorable? Maintaining his significance.
And there was nothing worse he could think of, in this world of material, power and prestige, than being rendered insignificant.
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
💤 - In which position would they like to sleep in with their partner afterwards? And what position are they likely to end up in instead?⚠️ - How to tell that your muse needs comfort after or during sex? for both
nsfw headcanons! | OPEN | @moonrivercrossing
💤 - In which position would they like to sleep in with their partner afterwards? And what position are they likely to end up in instead?
Cristi - This young empath thoroughly enjoys the tenderness of close intimacy with her husband. After intercourse has concluded between the two, she may lay on her side with her back facing in his direction - this isn’t intended to imply rejection of his person on her part in which she doesn’t wish to be touched, but this action is to suggest she relishes in the feeling of his chest being pressed against the back of her head when he inches ever closer, to feel his chin rest atop her crown as the warmth of his body spreads through her when his arms enfold around her waist for a loving embrace. The act of spooning signified her trust in him, that he could be out of her viewpoint and know he’d still be there for her – it offered her sense of security. However, sometimes if both their energies are spent to the point of exhaustion on their mind and bodies, Cristi might find herself stuck underneath him when he collapses on top her, and he won’t get up due to the fact he’ll fall asleep directly on her. Ah well.
Lucas - Lucas absolutely has no shame in seeking physical contact with his mate after the rigorous energy that intercourse requires has finally ended between them. If it’s possible, he’d feel inclined to lay down on his side while facing his wife, arm draped around her waist to draw her body close to his own, at least so her tired, yet youthful visage may be the last thing he sees before sleep falls on his eyes. Unfortunately, there are times he won’t be thinking with a clear head, and will instead lay on his stomach with his face sinking into the pillow before fatigue overtakes his consciousness. At the very least, he’d have his hand or arm resting against her.
⚠️ - How to tell that your muse needs comfort after or during sex?
Cristi - Typically in any situation, the fine works of an empath automatically gives her the perception to know the current emotional state of her lover, and because their emotional energies are shared while lost in the raptures of passion, Cristi will easily notice if something is off kitler about her husband. Lucas isn’t particularity the type of guy who’d expose his personal issues out in the open to her, but her uncanny ability of keen cognizance makes things difficult for him to hide. Basically, one of the few things that prompts her awareness of his need for comfort is when he allows her on top for the majority of the time while in bed, which is rare - meaning he wishes to be catered to by her loving, soft touch. Another is when she hears him give off low ‘wolfish whines’ while holding her tightly in his arms. And once sex is over, Lucas may tuck his head underneath her palm so she may pet him, obviously an action that indicates his need for consolation to ease whatever is troubling him.
Lucas - Although Lucas lacks mental abilities of his own in comparison to Cristi, his exquisite sense of observation usually gives him an inkling on the state of an individual based on physical cues their body language exhibits – as a predator, it’s essential for his kind to possess sharp watchful skills on who they regard as their prey. And for as long Lucas has known Cristi before they exchanged wedding vows, he considers his wife - wholesome - prey material, which incites him to grant a special type of attention towards her, to be made aware of the possibilities of what could be going on in her head that got her acting a certain way. During sex, one of the cue’s that’ll strike his attention is if she vocally -albeit in a sweet utterance- asks him to simply hold her, and issues a request to lessen the roughness of his sexual endeavors upon her, which hints she’s in the mood for something slow with comforting connotations. Another is when she might cry, yet, although the sensuality of his powerful strokes does invoke her to shed tears of pleasure from time to time, the feelings she experiences in the moment may overwhelm her heart and bring out doleful emotions she’d been holding in. Lucas will take notice and bring these things up duringaftercare.
#moonrivercrossing#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |#headcanon#/this was fun to do ahhh thank you love
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
♍
Useless Details Ask Meme I OPEN
Send one of the following symbols to find out more about my muse!
♍ any pictures on their walls? what kind/of who?
Lucas’s abode permeates with old soul vibes, particularly when you step through the threshold of his apartment and gaze along the four walls, you’ll be able to distinguish his acute fascination in artistic visualizations of musical instruments, including pieces that reminisces of the 60′s and 70′s Black Arts Movement. Colors vividly mesh delectably in vibrant golden hues where they blend well with rusty browns, and purple tints spill into blues like a waterfall as they splash off the canvas with much vibrancy in each stroke that a single paintbrush once passed over.
The stillness of Cristi’s dwelling place mimic’s the tranquil setting of the paintings that decorates her living room walls in modest display. There are scenes of majestic wildlife in swift motion with fluid linework, and floral nature elements brings a calm to settle on her mind as brown eyes would gaze at how the grey fog blends its paint beautifully into the green environment of an silent forest, riddled in unspoken perplexities.
#nosferatuinblue#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |#headcanon#| about | cristi |#| about | lucas |#thanks for this!
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cooking🍳 🍖 🥩
Lucas loves to cook. He loves food. Possessing a high sense of smell and sensitive taste buds enables Lucas to distinguish the best ingredients that’ll merge well into a dish he’s whipping up. A few days out the week, he’ll awaken in the early morning and get to work in the kitchen, either turning on his turntable or his 90’s styled boombox (for nostalgia’s sake) and switching the gears to his favorite radio station to sing to some RnB jams in the midst of him cooking breakfast; Lucas always makes enough for him and Cristi, often times bringing her a tray of food if she’s still lying in bed. He also enjoys improvising by concocting his own recipes (sometimes) from scratch, and usually sets his wife up to be a judge of his skills. At least once every two weeks, if they both happen to have any free time during the evening hours, Lucas may suggest they cook something together, can be a new recipe they never tried or a common meal, but it’s a lovely auxiliary activity to spend some quality time with his mate.
In his human form, Lucas has the ability to elongate his canines into fangs, which leaves him capable of consuming raw meat, even down to the bones. And while he do, at times, possess those vile craving for raw flesh befitting of a predatory wolf entity such as himself, he finds it more appealing and fun to create his own cuisine instead. The creativity found in the culinary art of cooking stimulates his mind, and can be quite relaxing after a long day.
#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |#| wagging tail | lucas's interests |#;;main verse;;
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
(My art below)
Lucas’s species typically comes in two wolf forms:
Wereform/Bipedal. This form showcases a balance of attributes that commemorates both canidea and human anatomy. Unlike some wolves, Lycans in this form can stand upright akin to a human with a straight spine that presents an excellent posture, and like a wolf, they can run on all fours easily due to their extended haunches that gives them a powerful burst of speed. They have large monster paws with opposable thumbs and paw pads at the end of each digit, used for grasping, digging, and fighting. The humanoid physique enables them to achieve certain feats that a feral wolf anatomy is incapable of executing. They can reach the height of twenty-six feet tall.
Feral/Animal form. As the term suggests, this form basically calls to the mind of how an ordinary wolf looks like, except it’s a specific version that’s a few times bigger than an average wolf. Capable of reaching seven feet or so in height.
I know I said two forms in the beginning, but there is another form, the classic ‘wolf man’ look where they maintain their human visage with distinctive wolf characteristics. There’s a rapid growth of body hair/fur that sprouts on different sections of their body, fangs, wolf ears, tail, claws, abnormal colored eyes, and slight increase in muscle growth and height.
This is just a concept of human Lucas with elongated fangs.
#my art#werewolf#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |#| let your true colors reveal the wolf inside | lucas's wolf physique |#| your claws shed black fur to reveal the wolf underneath | lucas's physique |#I got a major crush on his human face even as a drawing#| dire wolf people | headcanons |#art#artists on tumblr#black artist#anthro#feral#furry#lycan#dire wolf
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tagged by: Stolen from @the27percent Tagging: @shifterting @asilverjackal @maternalmelancholy @nosferatuinblue
Name? “The name’s Lucas rain baby n don’ wear it out.”
Are you single? “I happen ta be collared ta someone so I’m pretty much taken.”
Are you happy? “I’m livin’, breathin’ an alive with a beautiful mate by my side. I’m as happy as I’ll ever be.”
Are you angry?
“I can be if someone pulls on mah tail too much...”
Are your parents still married? “I mean...if they still alive an well.”
NINE FACTS –
Birth Place? “In the forests of Montana.”
Hair Color? "Black.”
Eye Color? “Many a times people ask me about the colors of these eyes, but they are as black as the darkest skies. Whereas in my wolf skin that glow as the burning sun.”
Birthday? “I don’ even know man. Sometime in December is all I know.”
Mood? “Optimistic.”
Gender? “Male.”
Summer or winter? “Summer time makes me sweat up a storm so I’d have ta go with winter.”
Morning or afternoon? “It don’ matter much ta me.”
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE ? –
Are you in love? “Very much so.”
Do you believe in love at first sight? “I don’t...but...I have a inkling that I might have experienced it.”
Who ended your last relationship? “I didn’t have a relationship prior ta this one.”
Have you ever broken someone’s heart? “I’m quite sure I have unintentionally.”
Are you afraid of commitments? “The thing about wolves is they mate for life. Commitment doesn’t scare me one bit.”
Have you hugged someone within the last week? “Yea.”
Have you ever had a secret admirer? “I had quite a number of them over the decades and I still do.”
Have you ever broken your own heart? “I don’t think?”
SIX CHOICES –
Love or lust? “Why not both?”
Lemonade or iced tea? “Ice tea.”
Cats or Dogs? “I’m a canine myself so I’d have ta pick dogs ta be totally honest.”
A few best friends or many regular friends? “Havin’ a lot of company is all fine ‘an dandy but I’m cool with spendin’ my time with a few cats.”
A wild night out or romantic night in? “Either is good enough.”
Day or night? “Night is where it’s at baby.”
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS –
Been caught sneaking out? “It’s been a long time but I’m sure I have.”
Fallen down/up the stairs? “Back when I didn’t know what stairs was as young wolf, yes.”
Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? “Yup.”
Wanted to disappear? “Why would I wanna disappear?”
FOUR PREFERENCES –
Smile or eyes? “A lovely smile that complements the eyes is a nice combo foh me.”
Shorter or Taller? “I don’t know but I think small girls are cute, an I can tease them about their height anytime I want.”
Intelligence or Attraction? “Whew, intelligence gets this wolf hot and bothered, stimulating ma mind in all the right ways... ya feel me?”
Hook-up or Relationship? “I’m old fashioned so I pick relationship.”
FAMILY –
Do you and your family get along? “I’d say we get along well.”
Would you say you have a “messed up life”? “Never considered it.”
Have you ever ran away from home? “I wouldn’t say I ran away. I jus left my pack like any young wolf may do.”
Have you ever gotten kicked out? “No.”
FRIENDS –
Do you secretly hate one of your friends? “I like ta be real with people. If I, say, had a problem with a fella, I won’t have an issue with confrontin’ that individual about it.”
Do you consider all of your friends to be good friends? “I mean, they good enough for me ta consider them as a friend.”
Who is your best friend? “My mate.”
Who knows everything about you? “Cristi is the only one I really exposed my entire essence to. Anyone else other than her will have ta be my pups. As for anyone outside of my family pack, they know only small pieces about my story.”
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Have you seen my iPod?”
A playlist describing my muse
Tagged by: @maternalmelancholy
Tagging: @shifterting @nosferatuinblue @thequeenofbeasts @waywardsignns
PERSONAL ANTHEM: Get up off that thing - James Brown
TIME PERIOD/GENRE: Caldonia - Loius Jordan
GUILTY PLEASURE: This is how we do it - Montell Jordan SINGS WHILE DRUNK: Georgia - Ray Charles
FAVOURITE LOVE SONG: Wild Flower - New Birth & Pretty Brown eyes - Mint Condition
SINGS TO LOVED ONES: I’d rather be with you - Bootsy Collins
SONGS THEY FIGHT TO: Payback - James Brown
LULLABY: Wishing well - Terence Trent D’arby
ALWAYS STUCK IN THEIR HEAD: Nuttin’ but love - Heavy D
SINGS IN THE SHOWER: I like it - Debarge
SINGS TO ANNOY SCOLD PEOPLE: My Prerogative - Bobby Brown
SONG THAT MAKES THEM EMO: I wish - Carl Thomas
SONG THAT MAKES OTHERS THINK OF THEM: Classic Man - Jidenna
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just thinking how Lucas gives off too much old soul vibes that he’d start talking about how ‘hip’ replaced ‘hep’ and what it means to be really be a ‘hipster’ or a ‘hep cat’. This new generation of so called hipsters amuses him so, many aren’t aware it has origins from the 1930′s -1940′s in the African-American dominated jazz scene.
#| pick these bones out my teeth | lucas headcanon |#/he goes into the orgin of 1940's aave with the words
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Your seduction style
Your seduction style: The Charismatic
You're beyond seductive, you're downright magnetic! You life live and approach seduction on a grand scale. You have an inner self confidence and energy that most people lack It's these talents that make you seem extraordinary - and you truly are!
Tagged by: @shifterting
Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this!
#| pick these bones out my teeth | lucas headcanon |#/accurate as heck tho#asks#/thanks for the tag babe ;>
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lucas’s lycan wolf culture values collars as a way to signify commitment to a marriage mate, the concept remarkably similar to how the majority of humans utilizes wedding rings as a token of matrimony between spouses. An example of this is when, during a private ritual on his honeymoon, Lucas presented Cristi a collar of her own to solidity his bond with her in his own, refined way, which would’ve been an acceptable act of union in his culture.
#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |#| dire wolf people | headcanons |#/and yes he also got a collar kink#/go figure
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
| This information belongs to me for it’s part of the world that I have created for these creatures in my story |
The 4 types of mystical beasts in my world.
I am going to shed some light on the main creatures in my canon. They come in three categories: Lycans. Werewolves. Shifters.
Direwolf ‘Lycans’ *
Lycans are basically wolf people who have the ability to morph into either a human, feral, or humanoid wolf. They are known to possess the perfect balance of human and wolf properties that make up their entire being - with that said, they are able to communicate in both wolf forms while possessing the intelligence and sense of reasoning of a human. If a human happens to befriend such a beast, they should avoid using the phrase, “good boy/girl’, in jest or taunt, for Lycans views such words as downplaying their intelligence as if they’re dogs. They have much pride in who they are as a people, and will not tolerate humans who belittle their culture, intellect, or presence. However, their wolf half is based on their instinctual urges and impulses like that of an ordinary wolf, a wild beast molded within the hands of mother nature.
Their wolf essence enables them to be connected to the earth, moon, wolf, & raven. These four connections flowing within their blood are part of their spirit and way of life, for it acts like an ID that reveals their inheritance as clean and pure, undefiled from anything mixed in the gene pool. They have the ability to communicate with wolves and other animals, which is a blessing bestowed upon them from mother earth as long as they give something to her in return - take care of the environment and the creatures whom live in it. This is witnessed in my Dire Wolf species because they are known for nurturing the earth for centuries, but it’s quite possible for other (sub-species) Lycans to gain these gifts as well. They have a certain spirituality circulating around their existence that is rare in today’s modern age of man whom is the main dominator currently ruining the earth.
Unlike shifters and some modern lycans, the animal that they are connected with, the dire wolf, is fully integrated into their psyche where they are at ‘one’ with the mind, body, and spirit of the individual, instead of acting like a separate entity or a second conscious. This wolf within themselves represents the instinctual impulses of a wolf, but they also work as a subconscious where all the things that the consciousness of the person is presently unaware of, that being feelings, thoughts, fears, ect, also they act like a 6th sense. This being is referred to as their ‘wolf spirit’ - not a literal spirit but its what makes them a Lycan.
Lycan Direwolves are an ancient breed of wolf only mentioned in folklore, and are considered legends in the werewolf community that laid out the foundations of survival for their future brethren. I should mention there are regular lycans too, which are like the common wolf. Here’s a link to a post I made for more info about my species.
Werewolves (Modern Lycans) *
Creatures where a human was either, in a rare case, somehow infected by a sick Lycan with a contagious disease only vulnerable to humans, or born as one through genes passed down from a werewolf parent or ancestor; nonetheless, they are all descendants of Lycans in someway through synthetic genetic editing. They sometimes have an imbalance in their brain that causes the wolf within to be uncontrollably animalistic where they tend to lack reasoning in their wereform. And unlike a pure blood Lycan, some can experience pain when they transform. They also can’t morph into a feral wolf. This modern breed initiated the stereotype that enforced the idea that all wolves are blood thirsty beasts with the only agenda to kill everything in their path; it’s commonly seen in the entertainment industry and media in our world, many of which produces horror films involving ravenous werewolves, and it doesn’t help that humans already believe that regular wolves are dangerous to their livestock, hence gave wolves the title as the ‘big bad wolf’. But I should say that not all werewolves share the same mentality, they are quite diverse with a multitude of sub-species in how they interact and behave around people.
In their wereform, werewolves can either recognize their loved ones, friends, or not; they act more beastly, more like a wolf or dog as an easier term, but some are born with the ability to maintain their human mind in such a state. Some can even morph on a full moon or anytime they want. And when it comes to their body shape in wereform, they either have a physique that's all in proportion, or one where the limbs may be a bit longer than another; a more beastly form that often mimics a deficiency in their human sensibilities. There is a deep contrast between common Werewolves and Lycan Dire Wolves, but the overall concept is that Lycans are an ancient, pure blooded race that existed way back in prehistoric times when the extinct dire wolf once lived along side them, nonetheless, should a Lycan breed with a human, their offspring will have all the genetic makeup of their Lycan parent, which give onlookers the impression that they are pure. Werewolves are not always strictly pure blood, their genes have been mixed with other creatures (other than humans), which results in a number of variations of werewolves in my world. But what makes a werewolf obvious is their lack of the four spiritual connections that only a Lycan possess.
In regards to their 'wolf spirit’, the way it acts differs for each individual. In some circumstances, such as for the ones who experience that unnatural imbalance in their brain, their inner wolf holds the capability to force itself to the forefront of their mental to take control of the mind of the individual where they’d act on their animalistic instincts, but this doesn’t suggest that the beast within always hold hostile intentions, either way, this is a case where the wolf spirit is a separate entity with it’s own identity, but it still possesses the feelings of the individual that is suppressed deep in their hearts. As for the ones where there is a perfect balance, the wolf spirit is the same as lycans. This also goes the same for other were-beasts with their own ‘animal spirit’.
Shifters & Mythical Beasts *
Shifters differ greatly from were-beasts. There are a few factors that separate this race from the other, and one of them obviously involves in how they shift into their animal form. Foremost, shifters only have one form they can transform into, that being their ‘animal’ or ‘feral’ form; they don’t possess an ‘anthromorphic’ or ‘bipedal’ form where they can walk on two legs like were-beasts do. Nevertheless, they are either capable of articulating human speech, using a mental connection to communicate with other beings, or sometimes are incapable of communicating at all in the human language – the race varies within their own circle. Another thing is the animal that is a part of them is a separate entity all together; the animal within has their own mind with their own feelings, and in a way they act like a second conscious that represents the instincts of that particular animal (whereas for were-beasts their animal acts like a subconscious).
Mythical beasts are beings spoken in mythology.
//I’mma write more info at a later time
#| dire wolf people | headcanons |#| Pick these bones out my teeth | Lucas Headcanon |#/this is all part of my imaginations#;;worldbuilding;;
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
7,8,9 for the character development questions meme
42 character development questions | open | @undersunrise
*I couldn’t remember the meme for the post so I guessed it was from an old meme post I reblogged lol I think this is the right one!*
7. How do they physically engage with other people, inanimate objects, and their environment? What causes the differences between these?
The way Cristi may engage with people depends on the individualshe’s interacting with. Due to her complicated background, she’s prone toexperiencing social anxiety and social awkwardness while surrounded by peopleshe don’t know - this is evidently witnessed when she’s in a tight enclosure fullof strangers where she may stay silent for the majority of the time, so observingothers, taking in as much intel about a person by mere observation alone is ahabit she’s accustomed to until she’s spoken to, but she is capable of engagingin conversation first if there’s a specific reason behind. However, she’s not particularlygrand at translating her thoughts into words, and may experience brain fog orhave a hard time articulating her sentences for people to understand at thefirst go. But as time goes on, she’s improves in this area the more she grows. As an artist, Cristi regards inanimate objects with an artistic eyeto determine how she can incorporate the design of an object, even one that’ssimple, into her artistry.
8. Where and when do they seem most and least at ease? Why? How can you tell?
It’s not a common sight for strangers and associatesalike to catch Lucas presenting characteristics of uneasiness, but this doesn’tmean that he’s incapable of experiencing unquiet thoughts from time to time. Oneof the things that makes him uneasy is thoughts of rejection and disapproval ofhis lycanthropy from people he’s fond of, particularly, humans he’s grown attachedto who’s oblivious about his wolf secret. This also entails that Lucas must be vigilantabout his physical appearance while in public due to the fact that his wolfskin can manifest during different emotional states, and although people maynot notice this about him, he does worry about it every soo often. However,Lucas feels the most at ease when he’s surrounded by the natural environment,either in the forest or woods, considering that nature is where he was born wheremother earth welcomed him with open arms.
9. How do they manifest energy, exhaustion, tension, or other strong emotions?
Similar to a wolf, Lucas possesses a bountiful ofstamina that a regular human can’t match or duplicate; Lucas can go on and onfor hours without hints of tiring out in the slightest, but after a certainlimit is reached, signs of exhaustion usually manifest in his demeanor after along period of activities without a break in-between.
#undersunrise#headcanon#| pick these bones out my teeth | lucas headcanon |#asks#/thanks for this babe <333
1 note
·
View note