#( lloyd. )

[vicedmuses]

𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 (𝟏/?): at least this new day & age has nice underwear...

[ankakkka]

I dont know why but I think they would gossiping about everyone if they would get along ( They have to get along. I need them. I can't live without them)

(and yes I gave Lloyd a beard :)

[waytoobsessed]

Homeslice you don’t get a broken arm, get dragged through the woods and roll it off as its better

[pepppoppy]

closed starter location: king candy’s roller rink @geelloyd-ob​

Poppy loved to roller skate. The only issue was that she was not fantastic at it. Normally, when she was so overwhelmingly bad at something she didn’t go somewhere she knew she would make a fool of herself at, but tonight was an exception because she had been here for a small girl’s night out. At least it had started that way. Her friends and co-workers she had surrounded herself with have already either left to go to a bar or went off with someone they met leaving Poppy to be...one of the oldest people skating alone at the roller rink that night. She tried to keep the pep in her step, even if she tried to skip and almost skidded on the ground instead, but she had to admit even she felt a little sad about being by herself.

As she skated she had started thinking. About what she was doing and why it was so hard for her to just....let go and try to date or like find someone special to be with. She knew she came on strong a lot and so that normally bit her in the butt and ended any potential thing before she even had a shot, but she didn’t think she was that bad. At least not all the time. As she thought she stopped paying attention to the direction she was skating in and while she was vaguely aware she was going the right way, she hadn’t expected to just collide with a guy right then and there. She fell right on her butt and looked at the guy, utterly horrified. “I am so, so, so, so, sorry!” she squeaked, trying to get up and falling once again. “I was not looking at where I was going and I had a drink at the bar and I am so....you are free to skate along and pretend you never saw me.”

[fracturie-archived]

@likeahcrricane.

The confession gave Raleigh a brief pause, knife hovering over the half chopped carrot before him, while mulling over the man’s words. A sudden amalgam of emotions warred for dominance…sorrow, anger, defensiveness…but he pushed them pushed them back, burying them under a feign of ignorance.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Llyod?”  

The sounds of a blade hitting wood could be heard once more as the blonde went back to the task at hand. “If you wanted to skip out on dinner, you could have just said so. I know I’m not Gordon Ramsey, but I can hold my own in the kitchen.”

Everyone who encountered Lloyd soon learned he was a real piece of work. An asshole, some would say. But out of all his flaws, pushing people away who got too close became his most brutal act because it involved hurting the other person. It was a self-destructive and toxic pattern; anytime he experienced any emotion besides anger or hatred or lust, he turned cruel and heartless, as if somehow he had been hurt by others simply loving him.

And truthfully, it had been fun at first, their little dalliance. Nights filled with casual sex and seedy encounters in dim-light bars. But he grew too accustomed to it all, and even though he agreed to the homecooked meal ( albeit reluctantly ) he felt as if he had been implicated in some kind of violent crime against himself. Now that he was there in Raleigh’s home, watching him read from his cookbook and pour from his Tiffany decanter looking like a homemaker straight from a catalog, it reminded Lloyd of a life he had never been able to achieve.

“I said what I meant,” he spat back as he paced the living room, his gaze shifting erratically as he downed the rest of his whiskey. Was it an unconscious psychological mechanism? Hurt them before they hurt you? The truth was, being around Raleigh reminded him of just how alone he really was before he met the other man, reminded him of how he would alienate himself, not just because of his lifestyle, but because of his fear of intimacy.

Walking into the kitchen to confront Raleigh now, he grabbed the man’s wrist to steal his attention away from chopping. “I’m not your perfect man,” he said as his grip tightened, his tone lethal. He had drunk too much whiskey, which always made him violent and angry, though the thought of hurting the other blonde never crossed his mind. He let go once he realized how intimidating he had become before he stepped out of the kitchen again.

“Is this who you want?” He asked, motioning to himself with cruelty in his voice. “Am I the man for you?”