#lucid lad

[dailyenglishvoca]

Today's song is UNDEAD by Lucid Lad and Calliope featuring the Vocaloid Dex

Content warning: flashing/glitching lights and images, depictions of the undead including mild gore and closeups of teeth/dental horror

[bcneheaded]

ok but what if artemis chose the name artemis after he got out of hell and started on his rampage not because he was being spiteful to the gods.... though he will very much say that's probably the reason... but rather because his memories were warped and his mind and body literally melted and twisted into something else so violently different (demon yk yk) and so, he literally just....can't remember why he liked the name artemis.... he just did... he just. chose it. for "no reason". maybe!! maybe artemis was one of the very few gods he actually LIKED and so, the name stuck out in his frayed and wrecked mind. more on that line of thinking.... maybe he doesn't even remember his own daughter, Hedone (daughter between eros and psyche!)

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

I kinda think Sir Pentious would make a good partner for him

Recommend romantic candidates for my muses and see their reaction!

“Sir Pentious? Who is that? Are they friendly? I’d love to make more friends!”

[chibikittens]

I’ve lucid dreamed before and I honestly can’t imagine how they could manage to make this work, even if they wanted to make it happen.

I rant in the tags but pls know I’m just exploring this inane idea for fun, 100% if this device exists it’s just a scam for money lmao.

Man, this is some science fiction capitalism dystopian bullshit.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Love and Brat Taming"

How I imagine the LADS Men brat tame and the type of dom that they are. Artwork @/osk_purinnumee on twitter

‼️ MDNI ‼️ This for the freak nasty mfs in my inbox … I love y’all hope you can lucid dream about this 😘

Zayne

Type: Edging | Voyeurism | Restraints | Temperature play??

Sweet stoic Zayne....Mr. "watch your hands" in public but completely different behind closed doors. Now let's say you decided to spend all afternoon being very handsy. He would warn you multiple times and of course you'd keep going even when he glared at you.

I feel like Zayne is definitely the type to .... watch. He would one thow-wow percent sit you on his lap with your hands tied in front of you and make you play with yourself while he watched.

What did he use to tie your hands? The tie that you kept yanking on all day in public to whisper in his ear.

"Since you can't control your hands I'll control them for you" He would watch you play and squirm on his lap and the minute he sees you're on the brink of climax he'd whisper a stern "Stop." snatching your wrists away, holding them above your head in one hand, making you whine. "Deep breaths ... there you go ... now start again"

He would do this again ... and again ... and again until you're spouting apologies and begging him to let you cum. He's not rough as a matter of fact he's so gentle it almost makes this punishment that much hotter, I mean worse.

Don't forget he's touch starved so while you're playing he's busy having his fun exploring your body stimulating every part of you. He'd go back and forth from just watching you to devouring your neck and pinching your nipples using his evol make them pebble faster and then taking them into his warm mouth.

By the time he lets you cum you're a sweaty puddle of pure bliss. He'd definitely talk you through it and end it with "next time heed when you've been warned"

Now next time he tells you to watch your hands you're torn between wanting this punishment again or wanting the sweet Zayne that gives you what you want without making you beg.

Sir?! Wtf you mean heed when I've been warned I'm acting up on your next day off fym

Rafayel

Type: Sense Deprivation | Overstimulation | Manhandling | Breeding Kink

Raf is the type of tamer who makes sure you can't walk and you're sore as hell the next day. He's merciless. He takes you how he wants you.

For example...

"Will you like me no matter what I become?" You promised. Such an innocent question. No.

You should have read the fine print because you had no idea it included the dominant powerhouse he'd become when you decided to ignore him after you went to bed mad at him and proceeded to ignore him for a full day.

"Don't play with me we don't do that we don't go to bed upset with each other because shit like this happens" He doesn't give more than half of a warning. He gives just one and that's it and its hardly a warning.

Raf doesn't get upset with you often but he's a whole different person when he does. He is definitely the type to blindfold you and tells you to be a good girl and no touching. "Keep your hands above your head"

He'd flip you back and forth between being sprawled out on your back and being flat on your stomach with a pillow tucked under your hips and much more. You're getting fucking rag dolled so hold on tight.

To start he would touch you everywhere except where you wanted most however he still would have you dripping wet and I mean dripping. I imagine once he gets you to that point he's the type to eat you out while making you explain why you decided to ignore him when you know he hates it. He'd edge you a little every time your hands strayed too close.

You would have absolutely no good reason for ignoring him for a whole day on purpose so he'd keep going snatching orgasm after orgasm from you until you're pushing his head away. Big mistake because he said no touching and keep your hands above your head. Be ready to get pounded into the mattress until dawn. For sure the type to fill you up over and over again just to watch it drip out so he can push it back in with his fingers.

"Raf I can't- " he'd cut you off "You can take it ... gimme one more I know you can do it" he would make sure you can't walk the next day so you have to spend the entire day with him to make up for lost time.

I need this man to take a sip of wine and let it flow into my mouth through a kiss and bite my lip after.

Xavier

Type: Edging | Bondage | Spanking | Dacryphilia | Sadism

Alright I know you just read sadism and you wanna jump me now let me explain hold on HOLD ON! Relax! Put the bricks and tomatoes down let me explain. I can feel it in my BONE MARROW that Xavier knows how to perfectly mix pleasure and pain. He's literally likes it rough talking about some "You'll have to do it harder" bro imagine him being able to do it harder to his girl? HES ON THAT ! Man I kinda just wanna yap about him.

He would give you a safe word he would immediately stop if you use it don't worry. He's a calm cool collected Prince that fucks you like you're a slut. He doesn't give you a warning because he knows that you know better.

If you decided to test his patience and be a brat ALL DAY he's throwing you over his lap and spanking your ass until it's red while he's two knuckles deep inside of you and that's not even the main course.

He would tie your hands together (Just like he's threatened multiple times). He would definitely tie them to the headboard and he'd eat you until you're crying from pleasure, but no you're not allowed to cum yet. "You're so pretty like this" as he wipes your tears before going back to nip and bite at your thighs.

He would rag doll you as well untying you and flipping you over into doggy style and just teases you by rubbing his tip against your folds and just slightly pushing in before backing out and continuing his teasing giving your ass solid slaps when you push your hips back at him.

He would edge your soul out of you for hours and he's gonna wake you up a few hours later with his tongue after you fall asleep.

I need Xavier to rag doll me expeditiously.

Sylus

Type: Bondage | Spanking | Dacryphilia | Overstimulation | Breath Play

I know y'all have seen that one picture pose called "Dancing with you" and Sylus has his hand around your throat?????? What are we dancing to???? Are we naked????

Anyway....

Now maybe this is self indulgent but he's definitely using his evol to hold you in whatever position he wants you in. Since you couldn't listen to him we won't listen to you. He's two knuckles deep in you and is making you do all the work. He would have you ride his hand and make you work for it while he has the other wrapped around your throat cutting off your air and right when you cum he'd let go making you see stars.

Did he just make you experience euphoria?? You bet your ass he did.

He's not done with you though don't forget you were a brat throwing a fit in the middle of his meeting and couldn't keep your hands to yourself. He would eat you out till you're in tears "Keep your eyes on me" the second your head fell back in bliss he would stop causing you to snap your head up. "I gave you simple instructions sweetie" When you hit that point where you start trying to run from him he would stand up and tell you to "Keep it wet you know what to do" (Shout out Professor Cal) releasing only one of your hands and leaving to go finish his meeting.

YES! He would definitely tell his business call or whatever to give him a minute and he'd handle you then head back. Once he's done he's coming back and teasing you with his tip with his hand around your throat again. He doesn't mind spending the whole night taming you.

Side note: Sylus hates to see you cry .... unless you're crying from pleasure. "Fuck you're beautiful like this" he'd say and he'd kiss your tears as they run down your cheeks. Something about that dazed-euphoric look in your watery eyes and your wet cheeks gets his Ca-Cawk jumpin'!

I need Sylus to wrap those big ol hands around my throat and tell me "Relax you can take it princess"

[rbbrbikerthorp]

Homeward Bound (Part 2)

Unbeknown to me the skinhead gets up from his seat. He lifts my head, which has fallen forwards. When he’s satisfied I’m unconscious and won’t cause him any trouble, he gets his phone and makes a call. 

“I’ve got one.. [pause] Yeah, he’s out but I took more that two to finish him off. [pause] Yeah, bring the van - you know where to meet us”.

As if in some distant dream I had a vague recollection of an announcement - something about some station, but it wasn't one I'd leave the train at. I sensed the skinhead lifting me out of my seat. I think he said something like “C’mon mate - you had a couple too many. I’ll help you. Yeah, watch yer step. The lads are meeting us so they will give you a lift home”.  I think I 'caught the eye' of one of two other passengers. Hoping they might intervene. I mean, surely it wasn't right for a half-cut smartly dressed office worker to be carried off a train by a skinhead thug?

I imagine they sit passively - not wanting to intervene. He hauls me off the train, leaving behind all my belongings - my coat with my phone and my rucksack with all its contents. It would be the last time anyone who knew me then would see the old me. 

As the train pulls up at the station the skinhead’s mates are waiting on the platform. I feel the train grind to a halt. Then vaguely recall the beeps of the door opening.

I sense the cold evening air and can 'taste' the smell of the diesel fumes emitted from the train. As a result, I become a bit more lucid.

“Is this him?” One of them shouts above the noise of the diesel engine.  

A bit older than we’d normally collect?” says another lad. 

“Give me a hand” says the skinhead from the train.

I feel someone else grab me and help get me down from the train onto the platform. My arms are held firmly. I hear more footsteps getting closer to me. Then I sense warm, smokey breath on my neck.

I lift my head a little and try to focus.

I can see two skinheads near the platform edge. I'm sure one was groping the other. Between snogs I could hear them talking. I listened in as best as I could.

"Nice capture Gav! You've earned this".

"Thanks Mick. It took a 'little encouragement', but I got him in the end.

They snogged again. I'd never seen two men show affection to one another, let alone two skinheads.

Then breaking their embrace, I heard one of the other lads say, "yes I suppose he is a bit older but when we break him, I'm sure he’ll be perfect."

I had to wonder what did they mean, 'he'll be perfect'?

Another one of the skinheads spoke, "yeah, wasn't there a guy from somewhere near Birmingham who asked if we could 'recruit' something more mature"?

I hear them all laugh. I can't be sure but I think it was called Mick who spoke next.

"Now shut the fuck up and let’s get him in the van while there's still no one around.” 

I feel myself lifted by two of the skinheads. I listen to the stomping of their boots. I'm still trying to work out how many of them there are. Three, maybe four - I can't be sure. I hear the sound of a van door sliding.

"Right, get him inside".

I'm hoisted roughly into the van. I hear the familiar sound of a can opening. Then the door slid closed.

"He needs a bit more of our concoction to knock him out for the journey. Sit him up straight."

I'm put into a seated position on the floor, with my back resting against the side of the van.

"Open wide," I think it was the one called Gav this time. He then grabs onto my jaw.

I resisted momentarily. Bad move, you could sense the change in his demeanor.

"I said OPEN. Don't make me hurt you."

Not wanting to face his wrath I did as told and opened. Slowly he tipped the can to my lips. "Urgh" - there was that weird taste again. I tried match my swallowing to the speed he was pouring. I know that quite a lot of the beer was dribbling down my chin.

Then, pow! "Mmm the taste". All of a sudden something inside me triggered a desire for more. As I did earlier on the train, I started glugging the beer.

One of the skins laughing commented on how much I appeared to like their 'special brew'. In no time at all I'd finished the can.

"Need another Gav?"

"Just wait," he replied.

It only took a few moments and I started drifting away. Before I fell unconscious again I heard the door slide open, boots land on the ground and the door close again. I pretty sure I heard a lock turn. The last thing I remember is the van's engine start up.

Sometime later...

“I think the push fucker is coming around”.

I was regaining my awareness. I felt terrible, my head banging and my mouth tasted like a dustbin. I don't know where I am. The room feels cold. The air seems thick with the stench of bodies, mixed with the pungent smell of tobacco...and something else?

I open my eyes, there in front of my face is a heavy duty black boot with white laces. I see a face a sniggering and then a plume of smoke hits me.

I begin a fit of coughing. In a reflex action I try moving but find my arms are restrained, as are my legs. I'm laid on the floor, a few feet from someone I'd normally cross the street to avoid.

I hear more laughter and sense more bodies entering the room.

One of the voices I remember hearing at the station spoke up. I turned to where the sound was coming from.

"Yeah wake up fucker. It's time to begin your new life".

My coughing fit is ending just as more smoke it blown in my face. I turn my head away from the smoke. That's when I figured out what the something else was, it was the smell of leather.

There, just inches from my face were two pairs of those heavy duty black boots with white laces.

What is to become of me?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! Can you do an Anthony Lockwood x Reader where the reader makes a pact with Kipps to fake date him to win Lockwood, and every time Locky sees them together his jaw ticks (in the library scene it’s so hot nobody can disagree with me) and George being the faithful wingman he is tries to get Lockwood to confess and when he does Kipps is nearby and he’s like ‘How much do you owe me again?’ Thanks!

Another fic I’ve left to fester but it’s only because I was still trying to find a way to write this without it coming off as shit. Also this might need a part 2. 🦦

You were walking back from Arif’s, after picking up a few bits and bobs that you were lacking, and just as you were within the homestretch; Kipps should be seen standing in the middle of the street as though he were waiting for something or -the most likely of the two- someone. Given the fact that it was still light out for any ghost -whether that be type one or type two- to become remotely active within any capacity. You knew that, Kipp knew that, so the question still remained; what was he doing here?

Curious, you called out to him, “Kipps?” The man turns his head in the direction of your voice and flash a charming smile as he began making his way towards you. “Y/n, just the person I’m looking for.” Kipps said. “I’m not snitching on my mates if that’s what your after, I’m not a grass.” You sternly told the blonde as suspicion began to make you act on the hostility you had towards him that stemmed from less the pleasant run ins with him and his team. You were sure Kipps was a nice lad but you were yet to believe it when you see it. “Funny you’d assume that’s what I’m here for but -as much as I hate to disappoint- it’s not.” Kipps began, letting out an awkward cough as his posture straightening up out of habit. “I’m actually here to ask you out. On a date. With me.”

You looked at the blonde as though he has grew another head, internally fearing that this may be some elaborate trick or even a weird dream you were experiencing lucid. You decided to reach a finger out to poke Kipps in the arm, firmly believing that it would go through it like an illusion but when your fingertip met solid muscle; you were forced to realise that this was your reality. Kipps looked between you and the finger that kept prodding his bicep -confused- before finally reaching a hand to grasp it, halting it’s movement. “You done?” He asked with the raise of his brows and a humoured smile upon his lips. “You what?” You said without giving much of a thought and instead going by the thing that you were feeling as of that moment; you almost didn’t clock the dark painted door to Lockwood and Co opening to reveal a concerned Lockwood looking up and down the street before his dark eyes found you and Kipps conversing.

“I asked if you were done-“ “not that! The thing you said before that! The asking me out part that!” You exclaimed, cutting him off. Kipps sighs, letting go of your hand that flopped to your side to pinch the brim of his nose, closing his eyes briefly, exhausted, before opening them again and taking a deep breath. “Look I’m only saying this so lover boy back there gets so jealous that he finally stops being a pansy arse and grows a pair.” He gestured with a twitch of his head back where Lockwood was still observing you both, brows knitted and a tick in his soft jaw. He looked annoyed but you weren’t quite sure who at, you or Kipps. As much as you hated to admit it but the thought of making Lockwood jealous actually sounded fun. “What’s in it for you?” You looked back to Kipps who only shrugs, “satisfaction.”

To be quite honest you weren’t always certain on where you stood with Lockwood in terms of your relationship. You were friends but the closer you got to him, the more that got put into question by not only yourself but by the people you let into your life. You blurred the line to such an extent that you weren’t quite sure whether you should take the gesture of Lockwood brushing his hand across your shoulder, down your arm and finally intertwining your hand in his, as something he just did when warming up to the aspect of gaining a new friend beside George and Lucy or something more deeply intimate.

Nor the time that he would seemingly take up arms against those who dared sully your name or tempted the idea of bringing you harm no matter what form it would take. He would be there, standing in front of you almost like a protective shield, Rapier poised at their throats as his voice lowered an octave or two before proceeding to degrade their worth whilst praising yours simultaneously. ‘He’s just protective.’ You’d thought to yourself, despite never being in a room to see him repeat the same gesture towards Lucy or George. You knew he would, yet the time where George smartly corrected Bobby whilst Lockwood stood back and watched on, smug, told you differently.

You certainly didn’t forget the times that Lockwood would try his hardest in making you stay with him, George and Lucy even after the most minor of inconveniences, whether that be a case gone wrong or an heated argument, as though you were one to be easily perturbed when things get a little tough or don’t go accordingly. At the time you honestly thought -and still do- that this was him trying to not go through all the effort of getting an advert out in the paper, followed by the gruelling extents of interviews in hopes of filling a singular position. Nothing more, nothing less. However from what Kipps had been telling you, everyone else saw it vastly different to you.

“Yeah, sure I guess but it’s not going to work. Lockwood doesn’t like me like that.” You explained to Kipps who scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh I beg to differ y/n but since your so adamant on proving that dear old Locky doesn’t feel a thing for you then this shall be our bet. If Lockwood does confess then I win, if he doesn’t, you win.“ he then lends out a hand for you to take, “do we have a deal?” He then asks and to your own surprise, you took his hand. “Deal.” Kipps smiles before bringing your hand up to press a shadow kiss against it. “I’m going to have so much fun proving you wrong y/n.” He mentions as you took your hand back, though not before wiping the back of it against your trousers, “me too.” You muttered, unaware that Lockwood had saw everything and gravely misinterpreted it as he stormed back into the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

So when the next day came and you, George, Lucy and Lockwood were sat within the Archives doing your own individual research, when Kipps came over and took the vacant seat beside you; putting his head on your shoulder to overlook the abundance of newspaper clippings and books that you had displayed at different chapters. “What’re you doing.” You hissed under your breath, already seeing the looks of confusion across George’s and Lucy’s face along with the poorly concealed anger across Lockwood’s that only grew the longer Kipps stayed glued to his seat.

“Trying to make this more believable.” He replied before proceeding to slide an arm over your shoulder as a sharp inhale could be heard from where Lockwood was sitting; which only further proved to Kipps how easy this bet was as a smirk then soon graced his lips as he dared to be bold and look over the table at Lockwood. “Can I help you?” He asked with false innocence.

“You can start by telling me why you’re here, bothering my colleague for starters.” Lockwood replied sharply, his jaw subconsciously ticking when his dark eyes drifted towards Kipps hand that casually draped off your shoulder but was close enough to brush patterns into your upper arm. Kipps inhales as he made himself even more comfortable in his chair, “Well for your consideration Lockwood, I’m here to spend time with my significant other.” You had to applauded Kipps for saying that so casually because even you believed it for a second there before coming to the conclusion that it had to be his confidence when saying those words that made it all the more believable.

“You’re dating him!” Lucy exclaimed, looking from you to Kipps, trying to gauge from your expression whether or not this was some kind of elaborate prank you and the Frittes agent conspired together; Even thinking that made Lucy doubt it’s legitimacy for she firmly believed -and still believes- that you like Lockwood and that he likes you. George was of a similar mindset to Lucy as they shared an dubious look of disbelief. “This is so bull,” George scoffed, “why would they date a pompous dickhead like you? They wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that, right y/n?” He asked, looking to you in a last ditch effort of proving him right but when you leaned into Kipps side -albeit a tad stiffly- and flashed both him and Lucy an apologetic smile.

The pair felt as though they just died inside. It was official, you had shit taste in men. “Guilty as charged.” You said, shrugging your shoulders, planting a short and sweet kiss to the blondes cheek. God you felt sick lying to your friends and that feeling only got worse when Lockwood, seemingly having had enough, got up from the table and stormed out; Though not before shooting Kipps a death glare and offering you a forced smile and an even more forced ‘congratulations.’ You could only wish in being able to get up after him but you remembered why you agreed to do this and you forced yourself to put on an act as though you weren’t affected by the suddenness of Lockwood’s actions or even aware to as the reason why.

“Was it something I said?” You asked to no one in particular, acting oblivious, but you couldn’t allow yourself to miss the way George and Lucy once again looked to each other but this time in concern. George wordlessly for up from the table and trailed after Lockwood whilst Lucy only smiled falsely at you. “Not at all.” She told you before swallowing thickly, “it’s just that ah…I thought you liked Lockwood?” Your hesitance in answering made Kipps gently nudge you in the side and shot you a look as if to say ‘say something or else she’d be onto us and this bet would’ve been a waste.’ You smiled at Lucy again before deciding to go with the most generic explanation in the book, “oh I don’t like him like that Luce! He’s just a friend. A brother even!” Lucy looked between you and Kipps once more before getting up from here chair.

“I’m just going to go check on George and Lockwood.” Was all she said as she too then left you and Kipps alone at the archives. You let go of the facade and quickly removed yourself from Kipps as he swiftly removed his arm from your shoulder. “Well that went well.” He tells you, while you -seeing absolutely zero point in staying with how clustered your mind was- gathered your belongings. “Yeah. It went super well. Not fucking awkward at all.” You retorted before leaving the archives yourself.

“Come on Lockwood, you know better then to believe the shit that comes out of Kipps mouth.” George tried to conceal Lockwood as he stared down angrily at the book he picked out on his lap. “It wasn’t him I believed.” He replied, turning a page, his jaw ticking subtly when the memory of what happened in the archive came flooding back to haunt him. “Y/n was held at figurative gunpoint.” George retorted, sitting himself down in the chair closest to his friend, feeling a little useless. Lockwood sighed, looking up from the book and at his trusted friend and confidant in when it came to his feelings towards you. “What’re you trying to imply George. That y/n was forced into having relations with Kipps?”

“Exactly! We both know that they wouldn’t willingly date Kipps, especially if they were given the same amount of time they got in to knowing you. It just wouldn’t happen.” George told him before his eyes glanced down at the book Lockwood was reading and furrowed his brows. “You do know that books upside down right?” Anthony then closes the book and takes notice of how George was in fact right about it being upside down, something he hadn’t taken into account when plucking a random book from the shelf, and sighed as he puts it to the side. “So what do you want me to do about it?” He asked and George looked about ready to strangle him with his own tie as he groaned, running his hands down his face whilst remembering to be aware of his glasses.

“Confess!” George then exclaims before remembering that he and Lockwood aren’t the only ones that live here anymore and brought his voice back to a reasonable level. “Just confess to y/n and everything will work out.”

“How can you be so certain that’s the case George? For all I know, they don’t like me in the same context that I like them.” Lockwood said, desperate in getting you far, far, far away from ever encountering Kipps ever again. You didn’t match well with the Frittes agent at all, you were vastly too different that it was too glaring for anyone to ignore. Plus Lockwood remembered the nights where sleep evaded you and how you’d join together in this very library, taking lighthearted jabs at the blonde; in those moments Lockwood would take the time to admire how your features glowed even within a dimly light room as he allowed himself to feel everything he had been originally skeptic towards. George could see the doubt within his dear friend’s eyes and it was a look he never wanted to see but now that he has, it only made him more steadfast in his goal of egging him into confessing to you and being able to close the book on a long, long, heavily awaited moment that everyone had fairly grown frustrated at it’s unbearable slow pacing.

George could see it, Lucy could see it, Flo could see it and George knew that Lockwood could see it but denied himself from acting on it and instead chose to play the long game in hopes that you’d catch on. You haven’t and the reason to that was the same reason Anthony refused to be the first to confessing his feelings; You both were scared that you’ve read too deeply into your interactions with each other, assumed that deeper feelings were at play and due to your past experiences of getting close to someone or allowing someone to slip past your defenders had only ended in someone getting hurt.

“Oh I’d think you’d find that y/n does like you very much Lockwood.” George admits in a serious tone which caused the moping male to perk up in his seat a tad like that of a puppy. “Really?” Lockwood inquired. “Really, really.” George replied, “I only want to see you happy and with the way you act with y/n. I can tell they’re the one.” He adds sincerely, recalling times where you’d butter and cut his toast when his arm was still in a sling from the Joplin incident. Or the time where you spent hours defending his legitimacy as an agent to Barnes, slagging off Frittes and Rotwell agents while you were at it which never failed to make Lockwood break out into a proud smile; All the signs and makings of the probability of something more blossoming between you two were there from the very start and they glaring obvious.

“So don’t, for the love of god Lockwood, don’t let yourself get in the way of being happy because to be able to fall in love with someone is to show them your most vulnerable self and hope to god that they don’t condemn you for it. So what’s it going to be? Sit here and sulk and have Kipps and y/n possibly fall in love? Or go out there, head held high and speak with your whole chest your declaration of admiration?” George finished his rant, staring at Lockwood who had a dead set look in his eye and a firmly locked jaw; an complete upgrade compared to his previous slouched and defeated form.

“Thank you George, what would I do without you?” Lockwood asked and George shrugged, trying to not let the praise take his attention away from what was more important, “crash and burn?” He shrugs but despite his nonchalant response, George was truly happy that his friend was finally taking the first step that should’ve been taken a long time ago.

[odoraful]

also i woke up the day zayne’s banner dropped, opened LaDS, and starting pulling in my half lucid state like this was unbelievably serious for me

[dailyenglishvoca]

Today's song is menacing red font by Lucid Lad with some lyrics by Menhera and vocals by the Vocaloids Wil and Dex

Content warning: flashing lights/images, ironic/tongue-in-cheek joking depiction of dark/heavy Christian themes (sin, damnation, etc)

[little-devil-town]

》 • Dollhouse Inc • 《

| Masterpost |

[Closeups + a bit of lore below the cut smile]

Dollhouse! Our main 4 [+ Ghoul <3], these lads are the main focus of the comic :D

They work under Oxyne as a kill-for-hire team behind the scenes, originally just Lucid working for an old family friend as he mastered his ability to create Living Dolls until the others made their way to the group. More info on their backstories will be available on their UnVale pages :] [I just need to finish their goddamn backstories-]

[jjsanguine]

@bengiyo talked about how Pisaeng's mother manipulated him into staying in the closet, which I didn't even catch the first time I watched the episode because her words are so twisted and layered. I knew she was manipulating him, but how long was unclear to me. But anyway I think this manipulation might be why Pisaeng has no friends except Pear. Apart from the fact that he's apparently being spied on wtf

In my experience as a woman in the loosest sense of the word, if I even mentioned a boy I knew my mother would be like oooooh are you dating??? And she doesn't even know I'm queer, this wouldn't be larger into any chance that it might just be a phase. Guarantee if Pisaeng was seen within hand holding distance of a girl who isn't Pear because Pisaeng has probably been shooting down the idea of being her romantic partners all her life and it's only as he approached 30 that he'd give into the pressure his mother would be all "marvellous, you're straight now, yes?"

So, guy friends it is, but the only guy around in secondary school was Not, and Not and Co like to drink and to be homophobic and generally prickish. It makes the chance of developing a crush fall to zero but like, witnessing casual queerphobia isn't fun, and neither is being the most sober person in the room.

Pisaeng drinks socially but he's never gotten too drunk to drive as far as I recall, so he is always pretty lucid. Not barely has a filter when he's sober, if the choice is between that as conversation and crushing loneliness, it's no wonder Pisaeng chose the latter.

At least until Kawi fell from the sky. From Pisaeng's POV, He's cute and he hangs out with the visibly queer Max often enough that everyone assumed they were dating. But Kawi told Pisaeng to fuck off in 1st year and approaching max instead was not an option if Pisaeng wanted to quash the gay allegations rather than fuel them, so for Pisaeng it was back to starting at the walls of his giant, empty house or sipping beer tersely while Not and compatriots tried to out lad each other.

Pisaeng's mother probably thinks friendship as in actual friends not just people who you fake laugh around and send some expensive gifts and then they agree to help you do insider trading to be frivolous and so doesn't care that her son is languishing because that's just the price you have to pay for money and power. And what wouldn't anyone give to live like this?

I feel like Pisaeng doesn't care that much because he's got a job in University even though his parents are rich. Like you couldn't pay me lmao to have worked when I was in uni. The only frivolous things he's spent money on are eating semi regularly at a fancy restaurant, arcade coins so he could get a plushie for Kawi, and jewellery so that Kawi could give it to Pear. He could live a similar lifestyle in only his DJ salary.

That he's a DJ is notable. His job is watching people come with their romantic partners, and friends groups and even complete strangers to have a whale of a time that he gets to participate in, even if indirectly. He's getting social interaction from work and barely because he's got mental blocks preventing him from seeking out the real thing.

Until Kawi from the future appeared and said we're going to stick together like glue by force.

[dross-the-fish]

Can we get a drabble of a post serum/lucid Larry transformation?

sure! ....

As his bones cracked, thickened and grew, Larry’s stomach roiled. His human skin split and gave way to fur, turning to dust as it peeled from his body. His groans turned to growls as he stretched out once his transformation finished, he sagged in the chair, panting.  

“No signs of aggression yet, can you understand me, Lad?” Edward asked moving in closer, notebook in hand.

Lawrence nodded, tongue lolling from his muzzle. He felt none of the usual bloodlust that came with turning into a wolf, for the first time his mind was clear.

Edward took a moment to examine the inside of his mouth, taking the risk to hold it open with his hand. “Discoloration of the tongue. Thick, viscous saliva That might be a side effect of the serum. Anything else feel different?”

With a low whine Larry shook his head. He felt fine, good even, there was a new strength in his limbs and he could feel his sharpened senses picking up new sounds and smells all around him.

“Hmm, we’ll have to keep an eye on your symptoms. This batch of the serum definitely worked but we want to monitor for side effects.”

Hyde frantically scratched away at his notebook, the sound of the pen hitting the page so hard Larry wondered that it didn’t tear. He tried carefully to rise to his feet, after Hyde unstrapped him. Watson, who had been waiting nearby caught him when he stumbled and he helped ease Larry onto the sofa, taking his pulse and checking his eyes with a pen light.

“His pupils are dilated, his skin is hot to the touch, he’s also got bleeding around his gums but that could be from the human teeth falling out and his wolf teeth coming back in. Hard to say how much of this is normal post-transformation or side effects of the serum,” Watson pulled a frown and handed Larry a bowl of water to lap at. Larry grabbed the bowl with a clawed hand and dove in, splashing water around his muzzle as he drank greedily, suddenly aware of how thirsty he was.

“Mr. Harker is making a pest of himself. He wanted to be here when you turned but Mr. Hyde and I thought perhaps it was best if we let you get settled first. I’ll give your friend this, he’s a good and loyal chap, hasn’t slept a wink and still insisted on seeing you.”

Larry smiled tiredly and gave a low chuff, his ears perking up at Quincey’s name. He gestured at the door to indicate that he wanted Quincey to come in.

Watson nodded and rose to go and open the door. Behind him Hyde carefully scraped the chair of dust from the shed human skin into a tube for study and collected a sample of Larry’s spilled blood.

“What do you think you’ll get from all that?” Watson asked, pausing with his hand on the door knob.

“Well, I won’t know until I get it in the lab and run some tests, now, will I?!” Hyde snapped irritably.

Mustache bristling in indignation it was all Watson could do to bite his tongue at Hyde’s attitude. He’d never get used to it, that brazen rudeness. As long as he lived, he swore he’d never seen someone so antithetical to the image of a proper English gentleman as Edward Hyde. He was, however, an undeniably gifted chemist and Watson had to afford him due respect…however grudging. Allowing himself a single huff he opened the door.

The door had barely cracked an inch before Quincey burst into the room, nearly climbing over Watson to get to Larry.

“Larry! Are you alright? Are you yourself? Did the serum work?” he babbled taking Larry’s lupin head in his hands and running his fingers through the fluff on Larry’s cheeks.

Larry snorted at him and gave his cheek a lick. Though he didn’t like expressing himself with such typically doggish gestures he wasn’t sure how else to indicate to Quincey that all was well.

Tilting his head, he examined his friend curiously. How strange…he marveled at how much smaller Quincey seemed, almost fragile. Larry was so accustomed to being the weaker of the two that he couldn’t resist laying a heavy hand on Quincey’s cheek to compare the size. When he rose to his feet he towered over his friend. He couldn’t deny there was something intriguing in the change. Quince seemed unbothered by the difference and threw his arms around Larry’s furred waist.

Watson’s eyes gave a knowing and affectionate crinkle, the corners of his mustache lifting as he smiled. He nudged Edward. Hyde grumbled and looked up from his samples. When he noticed what Watson was indicating he gave a disgusted scoff, “Much as I hate to break up your precious little moment, I still need to confirm that Mr. Talbot fit to be released for the night, so if you can pry yourself off of him, Mr. Harker, I’ll finish my examination and then the two of you are free bugger off.”

“Tactless,” Watson muttered at him out of the side of his mouth.

“Kiss my arse, they can cuddle on their own time,” Hyde replied, though Watson didn’t miss the lack of his usual spite.

Hyde was brisk in his examination and once he was satisfied, he nodded. Quincey seized Larry’s arm and lead him out into the hallway. Chatting excitedly at him with no more awkwardness than he did when Larry was human and could talk back.

“Shouldn’t surprise me that you’re the sappy type,” Hyde sneered at Watson as he carefully packed his samples and tucked them into his pocket.

“Have you never enjoyed being young and in love, Mr. Hyde?”

Edward stared at him, “Wasn’t love I was looking for when I was young. It was skirt…lots of skirt and the occasional discreet gentleman who didn’t mind some rough fumbling in dark alleys,” he practically purred at the memory.

Watson grimaced, “Must you make everything sound so crude? What of wooing? Of courtship? I daresay that’s the best part of the dance.”

“Oh, come off it! Love-" he spat the word as though it tasted foul on his tongue "-isn’t for the likes of me. Coo over the youngsters tripping all over themselves if you want but I have long since ceased to find it amusing.” As Hyde exited the room and strolled down the corridor, he passed Quincey and Larry. Quincey had his arms around Larry’s neck and was rubbing his cheek against the tuft of fur on Larry’s head, weeping with relief.

To be accepted by your beloved, no matter how monstrous the form you take…. that must be a wonderful feeling, he thought miserably as he shut himself away in his lab, unable to bear the sight.

[wilcze-kudly]

Man you had me so intrigued by Aiwei that it’s honestly unfortunate to me that there’s very little on his character in terms of fanwork TvT and fun little question! If you would ship Aiwei with anyone, who would it be and why?

YEAH. I'm genuinely so sad the fandom isn't interested in him more he's genuinely cool. I like his vibe, his mystery and the fact that he doesn't embody the 'kill kill murder' edgy stereotype of anarchists the rest of the Red Lotus sometimes fall into, since he helped run a city that seemed to reflect the Red Lotus' ideals to an extent, with seemingly little to no murder involved.

As for Aiwei ships, he really has so little interactions with other characters that I do have to grasp at straws. Aiwei is canononically mlm, but I'm not sure if that makes him exclusively into men, since the post that revealed that didn't get into detailed terminology. Nevertheleas, for some reason I always headcanoned Aiwei as gay. He's Su's gay best friend ok?

Ofc I think I first jokingly started shipping Aiwei with the chef of the Beifong family, bcs I thought it'd be cute for them to be basically jist the Beifong babies' gay uncles.

I also find the idea of Aiwei and the acupuncturist (whose name is apparently Guo) being together extremely funny, since he wa sthe one to point Lin towards the guy and also giving some high praise. HE WAS PLUGGING HIS BF'S BUISINESS.

I could could imagine he and Lin might also hook up but honestly that would be a DISASTER.... but then again. I would say Aiwei was part of the Red Lotus polycyle but I think they did not want him there.

I have also jokingly shipped Aiwei with Baatar Sr (especially in pairing with Suyin/Kya ii) because they seem like they'd have some kinship in being the calm and collected counterwrights to Suyin's chaos. Though also since Aiwei's sexualiry is not 100% confirmed, I kinda love the idea of him Su and Baatar being a throuple. Suyin and her husbands who both wear dorky glasses have slay beards and are so, so tired. She probay pegs them both tbh. Plus, his betrayal stings so much more if you think about it in terms of him literally being one of Su's partners.

Another Aiwei ship that came at me from left field but I kinda love is Aiwei and Tenzin? Like they're both spiritual lads and I feel likw they'd be meditation buddies. And I think Aiwei could do a good job telling when Tenzin is stressed or ready to blow up [due to seismic sense] and be able to calm him down. Like imagine an AU where Aiwei survives with the red Lotus but tunes on them to save the airbenders since he didn't sign up for genocide or smth.

And finally, my favourite Aiwei ship, an absolute crackship that could actually work and is somehow ectremely dleicious....

Aiwei x Zhao

Now listen, I know it sounds crazy. But walk with me. We learn that Zhao did not die, but he was sent to the Fog of lost souls. And Zaheer also threw Aiwei into the fog of lost souls.

So like, they could meet. And maybe in their more lucid moments they can bond over their torment, and slowly get their bearings, and maybe find a way to get out of the fog. Since their physical bodies would be dead, I don't know if they could leave the Spirit World, but perhaps they should not be allowed with other people. Maybe thwy can have a cottagecore house in the corner of the spirit world like Iroh [god Iroh and Zhao seeing each other and its like that spiderman meme]. And they can unlearn the ideologues that led them astray together

Or you know. They can just fuck nasty in the Nightmare Soup.

[tinystepsforward]

so i have been entirely out of action bc i caught covid on my final work trip (i am in fact quitting my fucking job lads. i did it. my notice period is uhhh. muddled by the fact i didn't get to logistically confirm an end date bc work gave me covid and i'm not lucid enough to talk to hr.) but i have knit an inch of a sock plus an entire heel turn today and watched four episodes of d20 fantasy high which is a huge improvement from two days ago when watching any kind of video or moving game gave me such bad vertigo i had to immediately sleep ten hours so. progress? wish me luck bc i'm not having a great time and still can't stand for longer than an hour at a time

[writernopal]

Heads Up, Seven Up

Alright I have quite a few tags to catch up on so I decided to start with this one! I was tagged by the following lovely peeps!

@void-botanist here

@duckingwriting here

@writingmaidenwarrior here

@heymacareyna here

Thank you all so much!

Tagging (gently): @callahanscorner @gummybugg @janec23 @sam-glade and @writeblr-of-my-own!

CW: mild gore

From AASOAF 3:

“Ishva… Ishva…” The name of that ancient god persisted in his raspy voice as we moved him. Each movement pressed blood up and around the stake wedged in his side. And every time it did, Lexlar dutifully wiped it away and pressed as gingerly as he could to keep that precious source of life from spilling out. “Ye will no meet her yet, lad. No yet.” Lexlar cooed in a tone so gentle and so low that I almost wasn’t sure if I’d heard it or imagined it. Soon enough, [REDACTED] wriggled her way out and huddled against me as we sat and listened to their painful call and response. Soft as it was, I was certain all of the Lyre could hear it as easily as they could hear the waves or the faraway departure of Fay’s krakens. At some point I leaned forward, taking the duty of keeping his blood in off Lexlar’s shoulders and he did all that was left to do. Recount their many adventures together in the hopes he was still lucid enough to hear them.

AASOAF 3 Taglist: @outpost51 @thelivingdeceased @faelanvance @captain-kraken @illjustpretend @elshells

Ask to +/- in the tags, replies, inbox, or DMs!

[ally-holmes]

"I thought you were dead"

Day 19 of the 30-day short story challenge

Today's prompt: "I thought you were dead". Thorin apologies to Bilbo in what seems to be his deathbed, but it's not.

Fandom: The Hobbit. | Pairing: Thorin x Bilbo (pre-slash)

Words: 710

Also available on AO3.

Here it goes:

Quietness was far from the correct term to describe it. Calmness, perhaps, was better. Whichever it was, one thing was crystal clear: the roar from the battle had died down. Neither orcs nor mountain trolls survived the Battle of Five Armies because once their leader, Azog, had been killed, they'd lost all sense of cooperation, and in the havoc, they'd attacked each other, searching for a fast retreat. Wards, however, fled, abandoning their battle companions without a second thought. Thus, the three surviving armies tended to their wounded in improvised tents.

The elves had been reluctant to offer more help, especially since Thranduil had lost more people than he expected. They did, nonetheless. Dale ruins hosted Lake-Town survivors due to the sturdiness of their buildings. Not all of them were inhabitable just yet, and most of the ceilings had gone down since the first time Smaug attacked the city, but some were in decent condition, so the elves set spaces to care for the Men.

Inside the Lonely Mountain, Smaug's desolation and long stay were still fresh hence the resolution of putting up tents to tend the dwarven wounded until Erebor had been assessed.

Precisely, in the dwarven king's tent Bilbo had seen Thorin in agony for his battle wounds. Gandalf had shown himself pessimistic about his prognosis, and for Bilbo that was not ideal. Thorin apologized, feeling at the edge between life and death. He opened his heart forgoing his pride and begged for the halfling's forgiveness. Thorin knew Bilbo was a remarkable creature, yet the moment the hobbit forgave him without hesitation, he understood he'd been gifted with the most tender and affectionate of beings.

Thorin said his last words and Bilbo left the tent looking for a place where he could cry his heart out in peace. Gandalf will leave before winter becomes inclement for a journey, and Bilbo wished to be present at the funerals prior to their departure.

Enjoying his second pipe found him Balin. Luckily for Bilbo, he had stopped sobbing silently against his hands some time ago so there was no incriminating thing in his person. Balin knew, however. He was Balin son of Fundin.

"The lads are up and about."

Warmth spread in Bilbo's chest. "Fili had quite the fall," he stated with worry.

"We may not like it, laddie, but elven medicine is something else. Kili is lucid and ready to jump off of the bed," the idea brought a smile to the old dwarf's face. "Fili is still half-conscious. His pain has been dulled which has given him the wrong idea. Would you be so kind as to give them a little scold, Bilbo?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to protest finding it impossible to refuse such a petition. The boys were badly injured after a horrifyingly vile battle, their uncle had been killed, and their mother was miles away in the Blue Mountains. They had no one. He knew how terrifying that was as he himself had suffered it.

However, the most bizarre of things happened when Bilbo entered the king's tent where Thorin and his nephews had been brought after the battle. Fili and Kili's childish complaints paled in comparison to Thorin Oakenshield's.

Thorin Oakenshield, who was casting daggers at the unbothered elf tending a hissing in pain Fili.

Thorin Oakenshield, who made a face at the thing Oin was trying to make him drink.

Thorin Oakenshield, who–

"I thought you were dead." Bilbo's faint whisper set the tent in utter silence.

"Master Bag– Bilbo," Thorin corrected himself with something resembling tenderness. "I may have spoken in what we all expected to be my deathbed, but I want to assure you that I spoke the truth, my friend. I– I also… If you decide not to forgive my behavior now that I seem to be recovering, please rest assured that I respect your judgment and–"

"Oh, shut your mouth, you silly confounded stubborn dwarf!! I thought you were dead!!"

Confused glances were shared among the dwarves. The elf, however, bit their lips unwilling to smile at the halfling's antics.

"I apologize. I–"

Bilbo moved his hands stopping Thorin's unnecessary words. With that, Bilbo Baggins took charge of the king's tent and the line of Durin survived for many years.

The end.