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hungharrington · 1 year

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Could I request something from the prompt you reblogged:

“I had a dream about you last night. Woke up hard/wet. Wanna hear about it?”

kitchen counters (kisses, and more)

this was hard to think of a sitch! it's a bit weird (?) but also a bit goofy at times, which i love and i hope u love anon! not any warnings needed, it's hot consensual sex except they don't use a condom but we know this is fiction and we should totally use those things irl. ok be safe and enjoy <3 2.8k words. minors do not interact.

It’s a bit of a strange morning, being here in Steve’s kitchen when you haven’t spent the night.

Not for lack of want, mind you. You hadn’t been able to is all, some family event that rolled way too late into the evening. And even though you know Steve would’ve come and picked you up if you asked, even at some point past midnight, you didn’t want to ask that of him. You knew he’d had a long day. Steve tried to insist he’d sleep better with you beside him.

“I don’t want you driving, s’all,” you said into the receiver last night, your tone apologetic. “It’s just, it’s late and you’re tired. I’ll come over in the morning, okay?”

“You promise?” Steve grumbled back. He never was in the chirpiest of moods when he went home to empty sheets.

“Pinky.”

And you followed through, driving over as soon as you could after your wake-up. Your own spare key lets you into the house and it’s only mildly surprising to find it quiet. The kitchen is empty, lights off.

You think of your boyfriend, who must be still asleep upstairs, and take a couple steps up the stairs, and— ah, there it is. The sound of the shower. If you strain your ears, you can hear his faint rendition of a George Michael song. It makes you grin.

You head for the kitchen anyways, flipping on the lights as you go— it’s a bit later than Steve’s usually up but you’re willing to bet that without you there to bug him awake, he’s dozed past his usual alarm.

There are Eggos in the fridge, enough for both of you, and fill the toaster with them, pressing the lever down. You begin brewing the coffee, the scent of it percolating the air and it’s nearly ready by the time you hear Steve coming down the stairs.

He appears in the doorway, shower towel still hung around his shoulders, his chest bare. You automatically dip your gaze to drink up the sight of his chest, a mixture of love and lust competing in your chest. His hair is shaggy and wet. He’s scrubbing the back of it with the towel but he pauses, delighting at the sight of you.

“I thought I heard you,” He smiles easily, and you meet him in the middle when he comes over for a kiss. His hands circle your waist. You press up on your toes and hold his face gently, pressing your sweetest good morning onto his lips. Steve hums. His eyes are still closed when you pull back.

They flutter open and he smiles again, blindingly handsome. “Missed you last night,” he says, pulling you closer by your waist. “And this morning too.”

Your heart sings just a bit, your thumb stroking lovingly across his cheekbone. “I bet you did, handsome.”

Steve raises his brows like he thinks you don’t believe him and his hands slither down, nearing the curve of your ass as suggestiveness creeps in his tone. “Uh huh. Even had a dream about you last night.”

His head ducks into the curve of your neck, lips ghosting along your throat as he continues, voice still husky from his sleep. “Woke up hard.”

His body pressing into you confirms that his high-running hormones haven’t managed to dim in the time between his dream and now — his cock is half-hard, nudging against your thigh. You can’t help the way you shiver when he kisses your neck, wet and warm, and murmurs, “Wanna hear about it?”

He’s a bastard. That’s the first thought in your mind as his kiss turns harsher, suckling at the skin of your neck in a way that weakens your knees — he’s a bastard who knows exactly what he’s doing. Your hands slip from his jaw to his shoulders, clutching them a little tighter. You try to pull yourself together.

“Something tells me you’re gonna tell me anyways.” You remark, a pant already making your words sound a little gaspier.

Damn, he makes you needy. Your head falls back and you let him nibble along your neck, feeling your arousal sparking — and catching fire quick, burning low in your stomach.

“Mm, I could,” Steve replies, between his lovebites. His cock has gotten harder, his hips lightly grinding against you to work it the right way. You keen into his touches. “Or… I could show you?”

Your hands move to tug his face up, out of your neck, and you kiss him, hard. Steve groans appreciatively into the kiss, beginning to walk the two of you backward til his back hits the counter. He uses the leverage to pull you closer, his knee nudging between your thighs — your cunt pulses hotly as you grind down against his thigh, lust licking hot at your spine.

“Mhm, definitely…” Steve starts, words tumbling out between his kisses. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, tongue soothing along after. “Definitely started like this.”

“Oh yeah?” You huff, giving a pleasurable shudder when the seam of your jeans lines up just right, rubbing rough right on your clit. A breathy moan escapes you and pushes into Steve’s lips, sealed in your kiss.

Not breaking his kiss, Steve’s hands grip your hips, his knee nudging higher as he pulls down to grind on him again — another bolt of pleasure pulls a moan from you as you clench around nothing. For a hot minute, you two play this game; Steve dedicating himself to your bottom lip, kisses hot and hands wandering, while you rub against his thigh needily. You reach a breaking point eventually.

“Steve,” you pull back from your sloppy kiss to whine, unsure exactly what you’re asking from him.

Face more flushed than before, Steve eyes you hungrily, lips swollen from your steamy kisses. He pulls your hips forward once again, groaning at the reaction it gets him— another pitiful whine, your hands on his neck flexing.

“God, you’re a fuckin’ angel,” He muses, more to himself. He bites his lower lip and takes a second to compose himself before his fingers take a walk, eyes tracing the path they take along the edge of your jeans. Steve pauses at the button, eyes flicking up to your face, eyebrows raising an inch.

“Take ‘em off?” He asks.

“In the kitchen?” You counter, sounding a bit appalled. Not that you and Steve have ever been restricted to the bedroom, but, well….

The Eggos in the toaster pop right at that moment as if to prove your point. You and Steve's heads both whip to the side to look at it and there's a moment of silence. Steve giggles first and you join in quickly, leaning into him. The noise tapers off and when you look back to Steve, you think about the night you would've had if you hadn't been held back.

You don't owe it to him, but you certainly are eager to find out the contents of his dream.

Stepping back out of his hold, you pull your shirt off swiftly. Next, you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your legs, kicking them off. Your legs prickle in the sudden coolness. You enjoy the wide-eyed boyish joy on Steve's face maybe a bit too much. He clearly wasn't sure he'd convinced you.

“You did say you'd show me what happened in this dream." You say, hooking your thumbs into your panties, like you're about to work them down your legs next. You pause, tilt your head, the fire in your belly fueled by Steve's greedy gaze drinking you in, "Or do you want to be the one to take these off?"

Steve growls, stepping forward and capturing your lips with his. It's fast and messy, his lips taking and taking, hands raking fast across your body as he lets desire run free. One hand kneads at your breast, pinching lightly at the peaking nipple beneath your shirt, stirring up heat within you. The other hand delves down, down, pushes gently into your panties.

A gasp stutters out of you as he runs his middle finger along your slit, gathering the wetness welling from your entrance. The pad of his fingers drags your slick forward, searching for your clit and you're nearly embarrassed by the hiccupy whimpering noise you make when he finds it.

"There?" Steve says, though his finger has already started to circle it, treacherously slow motions. You nod, your hand slipping and grasping his bicep tightly, giving a sweet sigh of pleasure. "Oh, good girl."

The praise sinks into your skin and you can feel yourself getting wetter, another futile clench of your cunt around nothing.

"Y'think you can handle my cock?" Steve murmurs lowly, checking in with you. He meanly speeds up his soft rubs on your clit as he asks, nearly making it impossible to answer for a minute, but you manage another nod, swallowing your noises for a moment.

"Yes," You say, voice nearly a whisper. Your breathing comes out in soft little pants, chest heaving. "Yes, yes, please, Steve."

Steve hums, pulling his hand from your panties and reaching for his own pants, the buckle clinking as he undoes his belt clumsily. His jeans pool at his ankles, kicked off in the direction of your own, and for a moment, it makes you laugh — two pairs of crumpled jeans on your kitchen floor all because of Steve's horny sleeping brain.

"So," you say, glancing for a moment at his tenting boxers. It makes you salivate just a bit. "How do you want me? How did the dream go?"

You emphasize the word dream, bending over to rest your forearms on one of the counters, sticking your ass out behind you tantalizingly. Steve's eyes stare intensely, chest rising and falling as he steps closer — his hands fall onto your lower back, dragging down lightly, til his fingertips curl under the elastic of your panties.

"Mhmm," He drags them further, revealing the swell of your ass and hot cunt and releasing a resounding groan of appreciation. He sounds breathless when he says, "Just... fuck, just like this."

Your panties gather round your ankles and you step out of them. Behind you, you can hear the sound of his boxers dropping, one warm hand leaving your skin for just a second. It's back in an instant, both his hands shifting down again, spreading your cunt wide for him.

Steve lets out another raspy groan, one of his thumbs coming down to play in the well of slickness building at your hole — your head tips forward with a shaky pleasured sigh of relief.

"Oh, so wet for me already." He says, bordering a tease. You resist the urge to wriggle your hips, to push back and see if he'll relent and touch you more. "Already so messy, huh?"

His light tone of mock twines up your desire and tugs it harshly, your cunt clenching with a whine so loud you nearly don’t hear his chuckle. You're nearly dizzy with relief when the next touch is his cock, nudging against your hot entrance lightly. One hand holds your hip.

Steve goes easy, sinking into you tortuously slow til his thighs meet the back of yours, a sighing moan scraping out his throat as he does. You keen, a strained mewl pushing out your throat as you get filled— so full it aches deliciously, aches for more.

“Ste— fuck,” His name is stolen from your mouth in a gasp, your hands gripping the counter as he pulls his hips back slow, the drag so so fucking delectable. Shit.

Steve rolls his hips forward, pushing back in gently and he pauses again, giving you a moment — even as you tremble and huff out high little noises, clearly enjoying yourself. Warmth spreads across your back as he leans over, pressing himself against your back and his cock further in. There’s a soft kiss on your spine, then another.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily, breath fanning across your back. He gives another leisurely roll of his hips, a gentle fuck into your heat. You can feel his cock twitch inside you as your cunt clamps down on him. Another whiney noise passes your lips, heat curling up tight in your lower tummy. “Fuck, s’like you’re made for me. Like this pussy was just made for me.”

“Stevie,” you plead, managing to get the word out this time. There’s another ghost of his lips along your skin, then his arm shifts, wriggling under your tummy. He scoops it around your middle, hand pushing up between your breasts to rest on your sternum. Still folded atop you, Steve finally begins to move, hips pumping his cock in and out, faster and faster.

You squeal, body humming like a livewire as Steve finally fucks you, the soft squelch of your cunt sucking him in filling the kitchen. Steve’s chest burns hotly where it’s pressed to your back and you can hear every grunt that pairs with the snap of his hips, his hand on your hip and his arm under you pulling you back to meet every thrust.

Your eyes slip closed, little uh, uh, uh’s coming from your pretty mouth mixed with whimpers of Steve’s name. You’re stretched up on your toes, trying to get the angle that only Steve has ever found. Your core is burning with desire, a throbbing growing in your clit.

“You’re- shit, you’re better than a dream, sweetheart.” Steve grunts, hips never slowing his motions. The stretch of his cock has gone by now but the shape of his hard cock feels like he’s moulding your insides — and you love it.

“Nothing beats this pussy, mm. Nothing,” He drags out the word with a groan, breath coming out in hot pants against your back. “Beats fucking my girl.”

You’re nodding, beginning to feel too fucked out to even think of words. Steve’s hand shifts your hips up and you know he’s looking for that spot inside you— because you can feel his grin against your spine when you whine loudly when the head of his cock finds it.

“Oh, is that the spot?” Steve asks, voice dripping in condescension. You nod frantically. He starts to bully it with his cock, every fast thrust hitting it over and over, til nothing but the melted words of more and please leave your mouth in a drooling ramble. You’re whimpering and whining, cunt drooling all over his cock, down your thighs.

“That’s it, honey.” The words come out a bit choppy like Steve’s own orgasm was rearing its head and his hand moves off your hip — deftly finding your clit. You make a pathetic moan of his name as he circles it harshly, quick circles with the pads of his fingers.

“Fuckfuckfuck, Steve— uh, fuck,” You’re spewing anything that comes to your brain, your hips rocking back to meet Steve’s hard thrusts instinctively as you chase your high.

“Shit, honey,” Steve moans, voice climbing higher and breathier. His hips begin to jackhammer, stuttering as his orgasm tips over — a whiney string of curses sung into your skin as he fucks into your wet, hot cunt, hot cum dribbling from his cock inside you.

You’re desperate now, teetering close to your own edge but not quite there. “Stevie, please,” you cry. His fingers on your clit which had slowed regain their speed, his hips picking back up as he begins his murmurs to you.

“C’mon, honey, you’re so close, can feel this pussy sucking me in.“ He whispers hotly, his hand on your sternum moving to grope at your breast, fingers twisting at your nipple. “Want you to cum for me, okay? Please fucking cum for me.”

You don’t get a lot of choice with his cock drilling into you, pushing that sweet spot enough that your orgasm finally builds and melts — a strangled whiney moan of his name warbles out of you, instantly met with Steve’s praises, murmurs of how good you are for him. It feels like every nerve is alight, turning over and pulsing as the waves of pleasure ride out in your body.

You exhale, trying to catch your breath as you half melt into the counter, finally lowering off your tiptoes as you relax in the post-haze. Steve eases his cock out of you, the quietest wince, and you give yourself another minute before you drag yourself up, beginning to look for your abandoned panties. A thought strikes you.

“So,” you pant, leaning back against the counter; you’ll definitely need to sanitise that later. Steve’s rescued his boxers, tugging them up as he raises his brows to indicate he’s listening to your question. “How’d we do on the dream recreation?” You ask.

Steve grins cheekily. “Oh, in my dream we fucked on the couch.”

#jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut

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republicansaredomesticterrorists · 2 months

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They are hosting training sessions to teach right-wing judges how to bend the law in favor of the oligarchs and their Republican puppets.

“Billionaire-bankrolled judicial trips are nothing new on the right. In 2021 and 2022, an investigation by The Lever found just two conservative organizations, George Mason University and the Federalist Society, paid to send more than 100 federal judges on a total of 251 educational retreats.”

#Judicial Education Institute #Legal Corpus Linguistics computer program #Koch political network #Federalist Society #Clarence Thomas useful idiot #republican assholes #vast right wing conspiracy #traitor trump #crooked donald #maga morons #never trump #resist

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ryunumber · 8 months

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Space Ghost?

Space Ghost has* a Ryu Number of 2.

(explanation below)

So, technically speaking, you won't find any mention of Space Ghost in Punch Time Explosion. He's certainly not playable, and the credits name only the voice actors and not the characters they voice.

That being said,

The announcer sounds an awful lot like George Lowe, Space Ghost's voice actor.

George Lowe is credited as one of said voice actors, and you'd be hard-pressed to find someone else in the game he reasonably could voice.

3. The announcer opens the story mode by saying "Greetings, citizen," and ends it by saying "Maybe I can find me a lava man to change the channels for me with a giant lever!"

So, is the announcer definitely, absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt Space Ghost? No, but of the leaps of logic I've made on this blog, I feel reasonably confident in saying this one's on pretty firm ground, comparatively speaking.

#space ghost #space ghost coast to coast #ryu number

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elmhat · 11 months

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// dsmp rp

In George’s humble opinion, the prison looked better from the outside.

Dream had warned him about the security procedures beforehand, of course, but George had perhaps underestimated the sheer, unrelenting number of them. Which was his mistake. Dream had always been one for the dramatics. Take away that source of needless tedium, and all you're left with is some dark little corridors and a creeping sense of claustrophobia.

“Look at this,” said Dream, indicating towards a giant round steel door like a kid showing off a new toy. A few clicks from the mechanism, and the door was rolling to the side, its entire body disappearing into the wall.

George might not be able to see the expression behind the mask, but he was willing to bet that Dream was grinning. Waiting for his reaction. Instead, George just continued forwards. “Who's actually gonna be in here?” he asked.

Dream only hesitated for half a second before following George through. He went to walk in front. “Well. I can't say that.”

There were cells in this room, George could now tell. Rows and rows of them, dozens and dozens, all the way up to the ceiling.

“You can't just build like a hundred cells and not tell me why.”

Dream shook his head. “It's not a hundred, George. Don't be dramatic.” More clicking, from deep within the prison, as he inserted a keycard into the next door. “And those cells don't even matter. Just a precaution.”

“Suuure.”

There was some kind of lever that Dream was messing with. George stood restlessly behind him, tapping his shoe on the ground.

“So…” he began, “if these ones are just a precaution, or whatever, who’s the main cell for?”

Dream threw a glance his way. “You are so annoying.”

“You're annoying! Like, it doesn't even matter, just tell me.”

A thunk, and half of the wall was suddenly sliding away, extending this horrible little hallway. Dream watched it happen without a word. But the silence after the door stopped was heavy, and Dream, reluctantly, gave in.

“Tommy,” he said.

George pondered this information. “Hmm. Tommy.” He turned the name over in his mouth. “That’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Yep,” said Dream, quick and clipped. He was standing in the new chamber now, apparently waiting for George to join him. He didn't.

“You're being all secretive,” said George. “And stupid. And this place— smells. And it's depressing. I want to go outside.”

Dream exhaled deeply. “You can't just get out from here, we'd have to go all the way back again.”

“But, I don't know— where do the prisoners go outside?”

“They don't.” It was the kind of tone that didn't invite debate. “The courtyard was sealed up. It's indoors now.”

“Why?”

“Because it wasn't safe!” Dream snapped. His hands waved around thoughtlessly while he tried to piece his words together. “This was supposed to be a tour, not a— an interrogation. And, it’s— I just— The prisoner doesn't need stuff… like that.”

And maybe it wasn't even what Dream said, maybe he could call it some kind of divine premonition, but George's tapping went still and his blood went cold and his eyes remained glued to the man in front of him, and the man looked back, and it was as if, for just a moment, they could both read the truth from the other’s mind.

George was the first to look away; there was an awful tightness in his chest. “Just… look after the prisoner,” he said.

Dream scoffed. “What? Since when do you care about the prisoner?”

“Promise me,” George demanded suddenly. “Promise you know what you're doing.”

The force of it seemed to take the words from Dream’s mouth. George’s concern hung unspoken between them. Now, it was all either of them could do to simply exist here, in the same space, breathing in the same foul air. Slowly but surely, Dream nodded.

“I promise.”

#dreblr #c!dream #c!george #c!gnf #c!dnf #pandora's vault #drabbles #my writing #this doesn't make sense in canon but who cares about canon!

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moonchild-in-blue · 3 months

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Since we're appreciating men, big massive shout out to one Mr. George Lever - he's insanely good at his job AND is a cutie.

#i opened instagram and was greeted with his beautiful visage hehehe so here we are #been a while since i've made a Lever appreciation post so #kissie face emoji. blushing emoji. heart emoji. heart emoji. heart emoji. heart emo-#i hope you're doing well georgie 😌💙#george lever

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sleepanonymous · 6 months

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im trying to get into sleeptoken - one of my friends is dragging me into it and i love it - can you just give me like a huge timeline and lore overlook? im looking around your feed, and im SO confused but also SO intrigued !! would love to hear from you :)

Hi! New fans always make me so happy! I’m glad you’ve been shown Sleep Token and you like what you’ve heard so far! I always recommend this video and this article regarding Sleep Token lore, but… yeah, I will take a stab at a complete timeline for you. I’ll be honest: I never was very into the lore of “Sleep” as much as I was curious about the band itself (which is typically why I recommend the two above sources for lore purposes). I know that much of the lore is from fans’ deep analyses of Sleep Token’s lyrics and not anything official from the band or Vessel. Almost everything is fan-made, so there are a lot of differing opinions—anything official or stated by Vessel and the band in interviews I included. If anyone is interested in my take on the lore, I might make a separate post about that.

This ended up becoming a massive post. Take what you think is massive and then double or even triple it. Fun fact: I aggressively fact-checked this and actually learned some new things about the band myself. I have marked any unverifiable statements and opinions in this post with an asterisk. Due to the band’s secrecy, the sentences with an asterisk are either heavily opinion-based or my best guess at what might have happened during a specific time period. Take them with a grain of salt.

Anyway! I have a problem; below the cut, I am making it everybody else’s problem.

In September of 2016, a video was posted to YouTube. The video was a black-and-white depiction, through short clips and flashing images, of what appeared to be a lone masked man, Vessel, performing a ritual by candlelight. The music over the video, a hauntingly beautiful mixture of indie pop and prog metal, was met with heavy praise from commenters. The description had three links to a new band’s social media and a Bandcamp account. Below the links was the following description:

Sleep Token are a masked, anonymous collective of musicians; united by their worship of an ancient deity crudely dubbed “Sleep”, since no modern tongue can properly express it’s name. This being once held great power, bestowing ancient civilisations with the gift of dreams, and the curse of nightmares. Even today, though faded from prominence, ‘Sleep’ yet lurks in the subconscious minds of man, woman, and child alike. Fragments of beauty, horror, anguish, pain, happiness, joy, anger, disgust, and fear coalesce to create expansive, emotionally textured music that simultaneously embodies the darkest, and the brightest abstract thoughts. He has seen them. He has felt them. He is everywhere. Sleep Token, led by the perpetually tormented, supremely talented Vessel, creates music that brings to the fore our most submerged thoughts and feelings, coaxing them from the desolate, terrifying caves of our subconscious mind.

The band officially formed in April 2016 (The YouTube channel, for reference, was created on April 14, 2016), but things had already been in the works for nearly a year before the uploaded Thread the Needle music video. In July 2015, Vessel came into contact with a talent scout/independent project manager by the name of Tom (I won’t provide his full name since Googling him brings up biased, embellished, and most likely false information about the band and its members).* In 2015, Vessel was already a skilled, trained, and experienced musician with the ability to play several instruments, including the piano, guitar, and bass, and the knowledge to compose and produce his own music. That being the case, Tom introduced Vessel to a drummer, dubbed II, as well as a skilled producer by the name of George Lever.*

On November 10, 2016, a second video was posted to Sleep Token’s YouTube channel, a music video for the masked collective’s second release, Fields of Elation. Much like Thread the Needle, Fields of Elation was met with enthusiasm and praise by Sleep Token’s growing fanbase.

Finally, on December 2, 2016, Sleep Token independently released their first EP, aptly titled “One”, on their Bandcamp page. The EP included Thread the Needle, Fields of Elation, and a new song: When the Bough Breaks. Accompanying the three songs, the band also included piano renditions of all three songs, performed solely by Vessel.

On the last day of February 2017, Sleep Token posted another video to their YouTube channel, a sombre piano cover of Outkast’s Hey Ya. Following the release of “One” and the cover of Hey Ya, Tom, now acting as Sleep Token’s manager, got the band signed to a label called Basick Records.* By May 2017, the band had another three-song EP, dubbed “Two”, already written and set to release that summer. This was announced via the release of Sleep Token’s third music video, Calcutta. By this time, Sleep Token’s manager had gotten a stand-in bassist and guitarist, dubbed III and IV, respectively, for the band’s first live Ritual. This was mentioned at the end of Sleep Token’s first-ever published interview with Louder. You can read it and the accompanying short article here.

On June 17, 2017, less than one month after the release of the Calcutta music video, Sleep Token took the stage for their first Ritual at The Black Heart in London. The band played seven songs live, including the three songs from “One”, Calcutta, two unreleased songs, Nazareth and Jericho from their upcoming EP “Two”, and their cover of Hey Ya. Very little is known about this Ritual. Most online sources seem to not know of its existence at all. The only concrete facts known about Ritual I are that doors opened at 7 pm, it was 18+, and tickets were £8.00 each. It is unclear how many people attended the Ritual; no footage or pictures have surfaced from that evening.

Sleep Token’s second and third rituals were performed in London in October and November 2017. The band opened for Motorpsycho and Perturbator, respectively. Because they were openers, any visual or audio documentation is nearly non-existent, but the band did appear in a few online articles reviewing the concerts.

In this article, author Roger Trenwith wrote the following about Sleep Token’s Ritual II:

“The support act Sleep Token was an odd mix of metal and pure pop, played by a band in horror masks and cloaks. Musically they were somewhat formulaic, in the tried and trusted quiet-loud-quiet-F’KIN LOUD nature of most of the songs, and accompanying theatrics by rote. When they diverted from the formula, they showed some promise, mostly down to the singer, whose extraordinary range made them just about bearable.”

Ritual III was met with similar criticism. This article, written by a much more helpful and open-minded Chris Keith-Wright, stated the following*:

“Remarkably, by the time Sleep Token take to the stage to start the evening off, there’s a very respectable amount of people front and centre to check them out. Perhaps this is due to the up-swell of media attention on the band since their signing to Basick Records and the release of their second EP, cleverly titled Two, that landed this summer. [...] The conceit surrounding the group is that the band are representatives of an ancient deity known only as “Sleep”, and that their frontman is an appointed-one dubbed ‘Vessel’. Whatever one makes of that, the fact is that Sleep Token’s Vessel has a most extraordinary set of pipes. [...] With a lighting show in time with their music and Vessel’s strong, soulful melodic voice featuring some impressive falsetto, they quickly engaged the audience. With the amount of vocal harmonies and extra musical depth that came over the sound system, I have to admit that it felt throughout their set that they were missing a band member, someone who could control and wield the keyboards, samples and electronics in a live setting. Donned with the obligatory cloaks the band produce a strong performance with their points of difference, clearly thought out prior to their live debut only a few weeks before. Their odd masks obscure their faces and during the quiet, vocal-led passages the guitar and bass players stood stock still. It’s simple, understated, but effective, producing quite the spectacle. Sleep Token’s transition between soulful, repetitive vocal melodies and brutal Meshuggah-esque riffery, and after a few songs this formula felt well-trodden. This is unfortunate as on record these transitions between the two disparate styles are far better executed – live there was far too much juxtaposition. Despite this, I and the majority of the growing crowd were transfixed by their performance.”

In March 2018, Sleep Token opened for two Holding Absence/Loathe shows, two bands with which Vessel would later collaborate. By April 2018, Sleep Token had parted ways with their manager and the Basick Records label.* It is unclear if both of these departures were related or amicable. As a once again independent artist, Sleep Token released the single, Jaws, on June 3, 2018, using footage filmed for their Nazareth music video that their previous label did not utilise. Through the spring and summer of 2018, Sleep Token performed their rituals at UK music festivals, further growing their fanbase.

In August of 2018, Vessel gave his second interview to Kerrang! UK. Interestingly, the article refers to the frontman not as Vessel but simply as Him. The main focus is on Sleep Token’s music and the single Jaws, released two months prior. A transcribed version of the article can be found in my Google Drive

Following these successful rituals and the Jaws interview, the band released another single, The Way That You Were, on October 8, 2018, along with its music video on YouTube.

This release preceded the last Ritual the band would perform that year. On October 11, 2018, Ritual XI was held at St Pancras Old Church in London, dubbed the band’s Inaugural Headline Ritual. It’s rumoured that all 120 tickets to the Ritual sold out in seconds. The band performed ten songs in total, including the live debut of the song Blood Sport. It is also worth noting that this is the first ritual Sleep Token performed with an opener being a band called Exploring Birdsong, which would become a staple opener for later ritual dates. Several members of Exploring Birdsong would also later become touring members of Sleep Token as the Choir.

At an unknown date in 2019, Sleep Token signed with a new label, Spinefarm Records. Together, the band and label began releasing music from Sleep Token’s first full-length album, “Sundowning.” Starting with The Night Does Not Belong to God on June 20, 2019, the band methodically released a new song bi-weekly at sundown BST until the record’s full release on November 21, 2019.

Interestingly, Sleep Token’s biography on Spinefarm differs from what the band had previously had in the description of their first two music videos. It is as follows:

Beneath the Sleep Token banner, lies the unique, broad-based vision of one individual – anonymous, silent, masked, armed with a staggering vocal range, a deft touch on the keyboards, plus a live approach that is never less than fully engaged.

While all factual statements to Vessel’s capabilities and talents, it appears that the band and their new label had retconned the lore surrounding them, granting the creation credits solely to Vessel himself. This is further evident by the Kerrang! Interview Vessel had previously given, which was removed from the internet, as well as the band’s Facebook page getting scrubbed of all posts prior to April 2019. Replacing them is a video of Vessel sitting at a piano and removing his mask, reminiscent of what would later happen at The Room Below Ritual in 2022.

Sleep Token would return to the stage on July 2, 2019. During this Ritual, Sleep Token opened for Amaranth and headliner Babymetal. This Ritual is notable because two key stage members, the guitarist IV and the Keyboardist, were replaced. The new guitarist took on the same moniker of IV, and the Keyboardist was replaced with three women from Exploring Birdsong, forming the Choir (or, as fans have dubbed them, the Vesselettes). The Choir was not yet a ritual staple, and there were several festivals and rituals where they did not accompany the band on stage, such as Sleep Token’s first US tour from November 7 to December 15, supporting Issues on the Beautiful Oblivion tour. The replacement for IV, however, did accompany Sleep Token on this tour.

With the release of “Sundowning,” Sleep Token once again gave an interview to Kerrang! UK to accompany an article reviewing the album. The article can be found online here, but no longer has the accompanying interview section. A photo of the original magazine review + interview, and a transcription can be found in my Google Drive.

Returning to the UK, Sleep Token performed several more rituals in late January 2020. Due to COVID-19 and subsequent lockdowns, they did not conduct another ritual that year. Nearly one year after the release of Sundowning, the band released a deluxe version, including new covers of Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody and Billie Eilish’s When The Party’s Over, a piano version of Blood Sport, and a new original song titled Shelter.

Sleep Token would not perform another Ritual until the Download Pilot festival on June 18, 2021. Despite being Sleep Token’s first Ritual in over a year, this festival also had IV replaced again by another guitarist donning the same moniker. The Choir also returned to the stage with Sleep Token, completing the lineup that we know today. This festival was the same day that Sleep Token dropped their new single from their upcoming second album, Alkaline, along with a music video on YouTube.

Another reason the Download Pilot ritual was significant is that it was the first time a spoken message had been given to the attendees of a Sleep Token ritual, not by a band member but by a prerecorded, AI-generated voice. The following text was the message:

Let’s not deceive ourselves There is a reason we are here It follows us wherever we go We were in love We are in love It is what floats above us as we try to sleep It is what stands beside us as we gaze into nothingness It is drowning us It is eating us alive A million outstretched arms in complete darkness They will reach forever Remind me We’re both dying to find out what happens when we die We’re both scared of being We’re both stolen pieces of each other We’re both exploring our own frontiers of grief We’re both just strangers We’re both just particles We’re both so lost in what it means to be lost We’re both a house that remained unoccupied for too long Let’s not deceive ourselves.

Sleep Token released another music video for their upcoming album’s second single, The Love You Want, on August 6, 2021. Sleep Token played the same spoken message before taking the stage at the 2021 Heavy Music Awards on September 2, 2021. On stage, they performed several staple songs from “Sundowning” along with new singles Alkaline and The Love You Want, with the latter including the same dancers from the music video.

Two weeks later, on September 17, 2021, Sleep Token released their third and final single from their upcoming album, Fall For Me. Unlike the previous music videos for the band, this video focused on a single man, whom keen-eyed fans had identified as Vessel, though he was maskless, paintless, and in street clothing. Over the video, words will flash across the screen. When strung together, they give the following message:

The truth is I am due a harsh lesson In truth itself and how bitter it can be Will you teach me? The truth is, I am ugly, I am inadequate, I am lost, I am no god The truth is, I want to want to live And so do you I just can’t do this any longer I am afraid Are you afraid? I want to understand what it is to let go So for now let me serve as a living drama of your pain If we are to be submerged let us be submerged Together

One week later, On September 24, 2021, Sleep Token released their second full-length album with Spinefarm Records, titled “This Place Will Become Your Tomb.” This album was the first to find a spot on the UK music charts, reaching #39 for UK Albums.

That following November, Sleep Token had their first multi-date headline tour supporting their second album. They toured with another of their staple openers, AA Williams, and played eight rituals in total throughout the UK.

On November 26, 2021, an instrumental version of “This Place Will Become Your Tomb” was released, stripping all songs of Vessel’s vocals, except for Missing Limbs, which was not included. Surprising fans, just over one month later, on January 2, 2022, Sleep Token released a cover of Loathe’s song Is It Really You? The cover is listed as a collaboration between both bands but is simply (though still beautiful and enrapturing) Vessel singing alongside a piano rendition of the original song.* A year later later, the vocalist of Holding Absence, Lucas Woodland, would also announce that his band had collaborated with Vessel on an unreleased song on his Twitter.

This unofficial announcement accompanies another that was made in March of 2019 by Lucas, who stated in an interview that Vessel assisted Holding Absence with playing the piano in the song Purge.

On March 30, 2022, Sleep Token released an instrumental version of their first album, Sundowning. Nearly a month later, on April 29, 2022, Sleep Token, or rather Vessel and the Choir, performed an intimate ritual at the Lafayette in London. The Ritual was dubbed “From the Room Below.” This performance is one of the most significant rituals for two reasons. Vessel sang and played guitar for the first several songs, then removed his mask and played the rest of the set while sitting at a piano with his back to the audience. The second reason is that Vessel, once again, played an AI-generated message to the crowd of 600 people while he openly sobbed on the piano bench. His full message to the audience was this:

We are here to silently connect. To project ourselves onto one another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget. We are here to worship. Some time ago, I was given a message. It was a message that originated from one of you. Someone possessed by a strong desire to tell me something. The message read very simply: You saved me. I have thought about this message a great deal since. It left me with a feeling that I have somehow been mistaken for someone else. I did not save anyone. I do not believe I have the capacity to save anyone. All I have ever given anyone was a small window into the emotional waiting room of my mind. I do so whilst doing everything in my power to minimise my own vulnerability. In this way, I am selfish. I chose not to give what others can, and yet I am the benefactor of this thankful praise. I experience a great deal of pain in my life. However, I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered. I would also like to take this chance to tell you something. To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something. My own path towards a place of greater self-acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path that I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else. I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask. So, in this sense, the message I received was true, but only in an inverse sense. The truth is I did not save anybody. You saved me.

After this first Ritual of 2022, Sleep Token had a busy year of touring, performing rituals in the UK, for the first time in Australia, and returning to the United States. In all, fifty-four rituals were performed, making 2022 Sleep Token’s busiest year— until 2023.

On January 4, 2023, Sleep Token dropped a new YouTube video, a visualiser for a new song, Chokehold, from their upcoming third studio album, “Take Me Back to Eden.” One day later, on January 5, Sleep Token posted another visualiser to YouTube, this time for the song The Summoning. This song is specifically responsible for Sleep Token’s sudden skyrocketing into the spotlight of modern music. To date (late November 2023), the visualiser has over 13 million views on YouTube, and the song has over 80 million streams on Spotify.

Around the same time as Chokehold and The Summoning were released, Sleep Token also added new merchandise to their store. Among the new “Take Me Back to Eden” themed shirts and pullovers was a crewneck sweater with a poem written in runes. The poem read as follows:

I am hunting something, and in turn, that same thing is hunting me. The beholder, the void beyond. I am the line between. I am the teeth of God.

Sleep Token released six singles for their third studio album: Granite on January 19, Aqua Regia on January 20, Vore on February 15, and DYWTYLM on April 19. “Take Me Back to Eden” was released on May 19. Dubbed the end to a trilogy, Sleep Token’s third album reached a peak point of #3 for UK Albums and #16 for the US Billboard 200. With this success, Sleep Token and Vessel were featured on several magazine covers, but the accompanying articles lacked an interview by the band or their servants.

Sleep Token spent the time between single releases touring Europe, the UK, and Australia. In September of 2023, the band returned to the US, for the first time with the Choir, for a headline tour, using AA Williams as their opener. At every date on this headline tour, a series of interludes were played between songs. All four interludes are below.

Interlude I Mask: They think you fake it Vessel: What do you mean? Mask: When you cry on stage, they don’t think it’s real. Vessel: That’s a reasonable assumption. Mask: Do you fake it? Vessel: No, I don’t. But it is something I do consistently, so if I was a member of the audience, I would probably assume that it wasn’t real. Mask: Do you ever see them crying? Vessel: No, I can only ever see them smiling. That’s good. I want them to smile. Mask: Do you think they want you to cry? Do you think they like it? Vessel: Not as such; I think they just want to know that I am feeling something, feeling what they are feeling, perhaps. Mask: Do you think that this amount of crying is healthy for you? Vessel: I don’t know. But at least I feel something; if I don’t feel anything, then why would I even do this?

Interlude II Mask: Why am I here? What is my purpose in all of this? Vessel: Your purpose is twofold. You protect me from them, and you also protect them from me. Mask: How is it that I serve to protect anyone from anything? That makes no sense. Vessel: In order for all of this to work, there has to be a certain boundary in place. They need to be able to project themselves onto this without anyone else’s identity getting in the way. In turn, I need to be able to show my true self to them in a way that does not compromise their ability to connect. Mask: So that’s what I am? A boundary? Vessel: Yes. Mask: I don’t believe you. I believe there is more to it than that. I believe you are afraid of something. Vessel: We are all afraid of something, are we not? Mask: What is it you are so afraid they will see? Vessel: That I am exactly like everyone else.

Interlude III Mask: Are you afraid of me? Vessel: Sometimes. Mask: Why? Vessel: I think I am afraid of becoming you. Mask: What does that even mean? Vessel: My life is becoming gradually consumed by you. Before long, all that I am will be contained within you. Then, one day, when I no longer wish to wear you, there will be nothing else left. Mask: It seems you have forgotten who you are. Before you had me, you were nothing. All of this artifice, all this pathetic conjecture about your identity, it is nothing but a manifestation of how short-sighted and solipsistic you have become. I lifted you from misery and obscurity. You would be better to become me. You are nothing without me. You always were nothing without me.

Interlude IV Vessel: You. Are. Wrong. In the end, my fractured sense of self was only another piece of fuel for the fire that burns in the eyes of these people before us. They, too, are pained. They, too, do not know who they truly are. They are each stood alone on a stage of their own. And yet, they are here. United by that sense of never truly belonging. They see something beyond their own bleak horizons. And they reach for it. Together. So let us join now. To reflect their joy and to serve as a conduit for their anguish. To swallow their fear.

Though only one month remains in 2023, Sleep Token still has a set of rituals to complete in Germany, as well as their largest venue as a headliner: OVO Wembley Arena, with a staggering 12,500 capacity—tickets sold out in ten minutes when they went on sale earlier this year in June. With the band’s continuous and foreboding statement of “nothing lasts forever,” many fans worried that this would be the last we ever saw of Sleep Token, with everything starting from “One” and culminating to a peak with “Take Me Back to Eden,” only to evaporate into nothing come the new year. Fortunately, several 2024 tour dates have already been announced for Sleep Token, including a tour in Australia where the band will be supporting Bring Me the Horizon and a festival date for the USA in April. Though all we can do is speculate what may come next for Sleep Token, one thing is for certain: This is only the beginning for our favourite band.

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czenzo · 1 year

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Consequences

[ao3]

summary: After Lucy wakes up one morning to find a dark red lovebite blooming on her neck, she frantically looks for a way to cover it up – and eventually drags Lockwood into helping, too. After all, he is the one who left it there.

words: 2335 rating: T

note: I fell SO in love with the netflix show then got so overwhelmed with lockwood content that writers block snuck up on me, but I have defeated it at last!! huzzah enjoy these kids being stupid and foolish and deeply in love

Lucy stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Her eye bags were slightly less pronounced than usual, which was a nice change. Only a few spots dotted the skin of her face – a small one on her chin, one on the side of her nose – but they were fairly calm and bound to fade soon. If she squinted and covered one eye they almost passed as freckles.

Her lips were alarmingly chapped, thanks to the hours upon hours spent in freezing cold haunted locations with little to no motivation to bother moisturising them; Holly had picked up a habit of commenting on it, and every time, Lucy responded by peeling off a bit of the flaking skin. It was always effective in cutting the conversation short.

Her jawline was soft as usual, thanks to the round face and thicker-set build inherited from her mother, but she’d grown to not mind it so much. After all, her appearance was never a hindrance to her work, so it had never mattered.

Aside from the blooming dark red bruise on her neck.

That was sure to stir up some commotion.

“Talk about unprofessional,” was the first thing out of the skull’s mouth when she flipped its lever that morning. Still half-asleep and brain somewhat foggy, she hadn’t registered his words and simply opted to ignore them as she padded over to the bathroom. She’d been at 35 Portland Row for so long that her morning routine was all muscle memory: haul herself out of bed, drag her body a few feet across the room before stepping to the right to avoid that oddly squeaky floorboard, then to the left to miss that nail haphazardly sticking out, then enter her bathroom, shiver as her feet hit the cold tiled floor, and grimace as her eyes fall onto the bright red hickey on her reflection’s neck.

Hold on.

Shit.

A strange, strangled noise escaped the back of her throat. The skull must have heard it, because he let out a cackle and called out, “Don’t tell me you’ve only just realised. He must’ve been sucking on your neck like his life depended on it!”

“Oh, shit,” she hissed, trying to tune out the skull’s taunting. She lasted less than a minute before stomping back out of the bathroom and flicking the skull jar’s lever with more ferocity than she ever had, before returning to the mirror to stare slack-jawed at her neck some more.

Her makeup collection started and stopped with mascara, and she hadn’t the foggiest of where to even start finding a product to cover the hickey – no, lovebite – no, god, how she hated all of its names. If only it was a bit lower, she could’ve hidden it with a thick turtleneck, but she knew just from looking at it that it still would have peered out over the top.

She desperately rummaged through the back of her wardrobe anyway, and heaved a sigh of relief upon finding something that would cover the offensive red splotch for the short term.

By the time she finally emerged from her room and followed the smell of toast into the kitchen, most of Lockwood & Co. were already there, either busying themselves making breakfast or, in George’s case, already in the middle of scoffing it.

“Morning,” Lucy said as she entered, making a beeline for the kettle to make herself a hard-earned cuppa. Holly paused from slicing a healthy-looking thing (it might’ve been an avocado, but Lucy didn’t care enough to look closely at it) and stared at her.

“Are you a bit chilly, Luce?” George said, lowering the last slice of half-eaten toast back to his plate.

“Hm?” Lucy replied, scooping up some sugar.

“I mean – I’m glad you liked my Christmas present, but you’re aware it’s July, yeah?”

Lucy paused, hand halfway to the kettle’s handle. “We live in England.”

“Climate change renders that a poor defence, really. I swear every other week’s a heatwave.”

“What’s this about heatwaves?” Lockwood said as he entered, newspaper in one hand and a mug in the other.

“Lucy’s wearing a scarf in the middle of summer,” Holly oh-so-politely explained.

Lockwood’s gaze darted to the scarf in question.

Then to Lucy’s eyes. And very, very briefly – for such a small fraction of a second Lucy almost wondered if she’d imagined it – down to her lips.

Then back down to the scarf.

“An… interesting fashion choice,” he said slowly.

“Indeed,” Lucy replied matter-of-factly, finishing making her tea and taking a long, scalding sip.

The room was silent for a long, excruciating moment, until reality suddenly restarted and Holly resumed chopping, George resumed chomping, and Lockwood snapped himself out of his trance to turn on his heel and head towards his favourite armchair to catch up on the news.

Slowly but surely, the rest of them followed, migrating into the living room and making themselves at home on the sofas in wait of an informal morning briefing. Holly was fully dressed and ready to go for the day, but the rest of them still lounged in their pyjamas while lazily sipping their tea, not quite yet ready to begin their working day.

“Okay,” Lockwood said after skimming through the newspaper. “Our priority tonight is to close off that case with Mr McShane… Holly, if you could give him a ring and look into why on earth he decided to not show up and give us the keys so we could get to work last night, that would be great – I can trust you to make it sound polite and professional. Maybe we should consider some kind of no-show fee… it could help us recover faster from that recent bulk order from Sunrise. Or is that too harsh? I don’t know. Something to think about later.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy spotted Holly jotting it down on a notebook she’d seemingly produced out of thin air. Lockwood continued his briefing; a client was due later that afternoon, George was to get a head start on the background research, and Lucy was to join him to visit a different client at their home in a couple of hours.

“We’re a bit busier than usual,” George mused from his deep, sunken-in spot on the couch.

“That McShane fellow knocked us off our schedule. We have a bit of catching up to do, but it’s doable.”

“I suppose we’d better get started then,” Holly said, closing her notebook. Lockwood solemnly nodded. Still, it was another fifteen minutes until they were all able to haul themselves back onto their feet, and another twenty for everyone to get dressed and make themselves look presentable.

Lucy spent most of that time checking her mirror. Each time she moved to look into it, part of her hoped and prayed the mark would have somehow magically begun to fade, though deep down she knew she was only setting herself up for disappointment.

The scarf was itchy and garish; realistically, she knew it couldn’t stay, but her limited wardrobe left her with – well, not a single other option.

She’d pulled on a jumper, skirt, and tights by the time there came a soft knocking at her door. In the seconds that followed came an intense internal debate as to whether the scarf was to stay on, or if she could get away with only facing whoever it was at a specific angle.

A voice softly called from the other side. “Luce?”

Lockwood.

The scarf was promptly thrown across the room. Lucy opened the door, and before she could even give him a scalding look, the sheepish grimace on his face said he knew what was going on already. Slowly, quietly, he shuffled inside, and took his time in closing the door behind him.

“So…” he said, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. “No more scarf?”

“I don’t know what to do, Lockwood. You did this, you should be paying the consequences – not me!”

He followed the sharp point of her finger, and the second his eyes fell on the deep red blotch on her neck he let out a whistle, long and slow. “It’s starting to go purple.”

“Thank you for that observation.”

“Perhaps Holly has–”

“I’m not letting Holly catch wind of this,” Lucy sighed. “Besides, our skin tones don’t match in the slightest. Her makeup would make it more obvious.”

“Oh– er, yeah. That’s true. What about–”

“Don’t even think about suggesting asking George. He’d never let us forget about this.”

Lockwood’s gaze drifted across the room and onto where the scarf had fallen, draped half on the bed, half on the floor. “Scarf it is, then.”

Lucy looked at the scarf witheringly. Before she could turn back around to face Lockwood, she felt a pair of hands settle gently at her waist.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her ear. “I got carried away, I didn’t think it through. It won’t happen again.”

Lucy sighed and replied with as much nonchalance as she could muster, “I never said I wanted that.”

“Hm?”

“It can happen again,” she said slowly, “as long as I have a reasonable way of covering the aftermath.”

“Oh,” Lockwood said. And then, a few moments later, “Oh.”

He backed away, his hands left her waist, and before Lucy could register the loss of his warm breath against the shell of her ear, he’d gone, leaving the door to swing shut behind him.

Lucy frowned. She turned to the skull jar, wondering why he hadn’t been incessantly ridiculing her throughout the whole fiasco, until she remembered she’d flicked its lever in a fit of rage earlier that morning. It was probably for the best that it stayed that way for the time being.

“Okay,” Lockwood said as he backed into the room, turning to reveal his arms full of medical supplies – plasters of varying shades, bandages, cleaning alcohol, the same supplies he’d uncovered after she’d slashed her wrist at Kensal Green – which he unceremoniously dumped onto her unmade bed. “We’ll just make it look like a minor injury. We were practising rapier techniques and I accidentally nicked your neck with my blade. That sounds reasonable, right?”

She sat on the edge of her bed, watching him rummage through the small pile. “I’d never let you nick my neck.”

“Well, you certainly let me do something else to it.”

For that, he received a swift whack to the back of his head. “Shut up and sort out my rapier wound.”

Lockwood tucked her hair behind her ear, gave one last dramatic wince at the mark on her neck, then fell quiet with concentration as he carefully placed a plaster over it. He took far longer than was necessary, but Lucy found she couldn’t complain. It tickled as he smoothed out the adhesive with his fingertips, and once he was satisfied with his work, his hands glided up to tenderly cup the sides of her face.

“Thank you,” Lucy murmured, feeling a smile creep onto her lips.

“Told you. I’m a fully qualified doctor. No wound is too much for me to handle.”

“Codswallop,” she scoffed. “This one scared you.”

He smirked, amused. “Only very briefly, before my fantastic intellect kicked in.”

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Maybe,” Lucy said, lips no more than an inch away from his. The air between them was warm and smelt faintly of Lockwood’s cologne. “Maybe I do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Shut up,” she said breathlessly, closing the gap between them. The pile of plasters and bandages were left forgotten beside them as they became wrapped up in one another, hands roaming and mouths gasping for air between kisses. Lucy was sure they could have stayed there for hours if it weren’t for George shouting from downstairs.

“Lockwood!” his muffled voice called.

Lockwood took a moment to catch his breath. His forehead still pressed against Lucy’s as he called back, “What?”

“Can you come here? I need to check something with you before I head to the archives!”

“Is it urgent?”

“Er–” George paused. “It pertains to ghosts, which can be pretty fucking lethal, so, yes!”

“Be there in a tick,” Lockwood replied. It took considerable effort to untangle himself from Lucy and, once he’d hauled himself off the bed and onto his feet, to then smooth out the creases that now tarnished his outfit.

George shouted up to them one last time, “Bring Lucy, too!”

***

It hadn’t been that urgent. Just a minor query from an unremarkable case that he wanted to clear up before leaving because, well – he was George. And George found joy in leaving no question unanswered, no stone unturned.

Next to a bad drawing of a Rawbones, he’d jotted down a to-do list for himself on the thinking cloth. He contemplated his scribblings for the millionth time, and then peered up at Lucy over the rim of his glasses. “No more scarf, then?”

“No.”

“Shame. You were about to kick off a new fashion trend.”

Holly entered the kitchen. She’d been busy cleaning the living room, if the three apple cores she held at arm's length before throwing in the bin were anything to go by. “I thought it looked quite quaint.”

Lucy gave her a look. “You don’t need to lie, Hol.”

Lockwood rested a hand on her shoulder and lit up the room with his grin. “Lucy was only hesitant to admit I bested her during our rapier practice last night. I do feel quite bad for catching her neck with my blade, though.”

Holly and George exchanged looks, and for an uncomfortably quiet moment, Lucy feared they’d seen right through the cover story.

“Don’t feel bad,” George eventually said. “She’d be ecstatic if she managed to do that to you.”

Holly nodded in agreement, and Lockwood turned to Lucy with an almost wounded look. “Would you?”

“Of course. Better watch your back the next time we practice. Might get my revenge.”

end note: now with a Revenge sequel!

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co fic #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #locklyle #czenzo.fic

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mycurrent-hyperfixation · 6 months

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Dance With Me, Baby (Locklyle Fic)

Summary: Lucy doesn't listen one too many times and it leads to a situation she did not expect to end up in.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x Lucy Carlyle

Tags: fluff, pining, angst

Warnings: Mild spoilers for the books!

A/N: Another Locklyle fic for this lil fandom. Thinking of maybe doing a part 2 so let me know what you think.

Unfortunately, Lucy could remember every excruciating detail of the series of events that had led to her current situation. And it had all been her fault.

It had started a few weeks ago, when Lockwood had whisked through the door with a swish of his coat and a grin on his face. Lucy and George had been in the kitchen; George making the tea, and Lucy trying against all hope to ignore the Skull’s incessant nagging. Having given up on trying to persuade Lucy to let him out of the jar, he had instead tried a new approach.

“Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out…”

Even Lucy had to admit that it was certainly an effective tactic, for she had never wanted more than to hurl that jar – skull and all – straight out of the top floor window. Normally, Lucy would have just twisted the lever on the top of the jar to stop the Skull’s never-ending torment. But it just so happened that that very week, George had managed to get the lever stuck open during one of his infamous experiments on the Skull. The experiment had included a bath, a large bottle of resin and the house’s only pasta strainer. What exactly had occurred, Lucy had no interest in knowing.

Either way, Lucy had come to discover that a ghost truly never needed to sleep nor required to pause for breath. It was safe to say she was at her wits end when Lockwood came bouncing into the kitchen.

A twitch had developed in Lucy’s eye over the previous few days, partly as a tick from her constant state of annoyance and partly a product of her complete lack of sleep. She tried desperately to get it under control as Lockwood talked. Thus, between her preoccupation with her twitch and the Skull’s persistent chattering, the only words she heard from Lockwood that afternoon were “party” and “invited”. And whilst this would normally be enough to pique her interest to listen further, the only thing she cared about in that moment was finding somewhere in the house to put the Skull where his voice could not reach her.

It was only that night when Lucy finally got some peace and quiet after her and George had managed to drown out the Skull’s talking. They had wrapped it in a silver net, put it into another silver case and surrounded said silver case with three sets of iron chains. The words from Lockwood’s conversation that afternoon floated dully through her head, but she was too focused on making it all the way up the mountainous stairs to her bed before she passed out to pay them any thought. In the end, the words slipped from her mind just as her consciousness had: instantly and resolutely as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The second strange instance that had contributed to Lucy’s predicament occurred two days later. It was early in the afternoon when Lockwood returned home, a smile on his face and a garment bag slung across one shoulder. But in truth, Lockwood returning home with a garment bag was actually a far more frequent occurrence than one might have thought. He did ruin on average one coat a week due to their line of work; two if the week’s cases were particularly demanding. In hindsight, Lucy should have noticed the logo on the bag – not a store that Lockwood usually frequented for his coats – and queried him about it. But she had only just woken up and George had finished making her eggs on toast and, in all honesty, she couldn’t really bring herself to care.

The third and final event that should have clued Lucy in to what would become a disastrous event happened only hours before said disastrous event occurred. Lucy and Lockwood were sitting quite comfortably across from one another in their respective armchairs; Lucy going over their case book and Lockwood going through his tabloids.

‘I was thinking…’ Lockwood interrupted the silence, his voice oddly timid in the still air. ‘Maybe it would be a good idea to practice…you know…before the party.’

Ah yes, the party that Lucy knew almost nothing about.

‘Yeah,’ Lockwood continued almost hesitantly. ‘You know how I mentioned it the other day? I just think it would be a good idea to learn each other’s…rhythms.’

Lucy had furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and had been about to voice several questions, when something else came out of her mouth entirely.

‘Do you smell burning?’

The next thing both of them knew, two voices were yelling from the kitchen. Lucy and Lockwood both leapt from their chairs and raced towards the commotion. Pushing the door to the kitchen open, they were met with a wall of smoke, George in a frilly apron, and Quill Kipps holding a pair of oven mitts that were very much ablaze.

Later, when both the blaze and George’s anger at the house’s only oven mitts being destroyed had been extinguished – both an unfortunate byproduct of Quill’s attempt at making Yorkshire puddings – Lockwood had approached Lucy once more.

‘So, about the practice…’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Lucy said, too tired from trying to save the house from burning down to pay much attention to anything. ‘Can I just meet you downstairs in, like, an hour?’

Lockwood had stumbled out his agreement and Lucy had quirked an eyebrow at his uncharacteristically timid demeanour before retreating back to her room. She really had had no clue why Lockwood was acting so weird over rapier practice.

And so, an hour later, Lucy had learned of her grave mistake.

‘Dancing?’ she all but blurted out.

‘Yeah, for the ballroom party at Fittes,’ Lockwood said with a quirked eyebrow. ‘You know, we’ll have to sneak away to the Black Library to steal the manuscript since our Orpheus society stint went…badly.’

Now both of them were very obviously confused.

‘And that involves…dancing?’ Lucy asked.

‘Lucy, where have you been? We talked about this weeks ago. We need to make ourselves seen for as much as the party as possible so it doesn’t look like we’re up to anything.’

‘Can’t we just…mingle?’

Lockwood ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

‘I really don’t see what the issue is. The dance floor will give us the best vantage point to scope out the party without looking suspicious so-’ Lockwood’s gaze shot back up to Lucy, something indistinguishable behind his eyes.

‘What?’ Lucy asked.

‘Do you…’ Lockwood paused, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. Lucy didn’t like where this was going. ‘Do you not know how to dance?’

Now it was Lucy’s turn to throw her hands up in exasperation.

‘Why on earth would I know how to dance? We didn’t exactly have balls up north! I was too busy fighting ghosts and trying to get away from my mo-’ Lucy stopped herself. Lockwood knew of her mother. At least enough to understand why Lucy wanted to stay out of the spotlight. But still, she averted her gaze to the floor and fought the urge to run away.

A silence grew between them then, something thick and heavy and filled with something Lucy could not name. She thought she saw Lockwood’s hand reach towards her, but then it was flicking upwards to run through his hair once more.

‘I could… I could teach you?’ Lockwood said, his voice far softer now, tentative even.

And so that was how Lucy found herself in one of the strangest situations of her life.

One of Lockwood’s hands was connected in hers, his other laying featherlight on her waist. She wished that she had not worn such a short top – she had thought it was rapier practice after all – for now, every so often, she could feel his fingers brush against her bare skin. He was avoiding the area, she was quite sure, for his hand was slightly higher than it needed to be. But every so often, his fingers would slip down and Lucy would blush.

And they were dancing.

Well, ‘dancing’ was probably too kind a word, Lucy knew. Lockwood was certainly dancing. Lucy on the other hand could not stop tripping on her own feet and stepping on Lockwood’s.

‘I’m so useless at this,’ Lucy said more to herself than anyone. But she did not pull away.

‘You’re just new to this,’ Lockwood said. ‘I couldn’t dance at one point either, you know?’

‘What, when you came out of the womb?’

Lockwood laughed, and Lucy realised she could feel the vibrations from his chest. They had started their practice as far away from each other as they could possibly get. But now it seemed that, somewhere along the way, they had gotten closer and closer until Lucy found her body almost completely pressed up against Lockwood’s. He was warm, she realised, and somehow smelled even better than he usually did. She turned her head quickly away as she felt another blush creep onto her cheeks.

‘My mother taught me to dance when I was little,’ Lockwood said, his voice soft. Lucy remained quiet, knowing that times like this, when Lockwood felt comfortable enough to open up, were a rarity that could not be interrupted. ‘We would dance around the living room whilst my father danced with my sister. It was more us just being silly rather than anything serious. But it was…nice.’

‘It sounds nice,’ Lucy said softly. ‘Sounds…homely.’

They were swaying softly to the music as they spoke. It was something classical, slow and delicate, from a CD Lockwood had procured. Lucy closed her eyes as she listened to it; the lightness of the piano keys slowly building to something grander. It was nice. To listen to something other than the moans and screams of the dead.

‘You like the music?’ she heard Lockwood say.

She hummed her affirmation.

‘It was my father’s, but I found it in my sister’s room. She always loved classical music.’

‘Well, she had good taste,’ Lucy mumbled.

Faintly, as if the feeling were far away, she felt Lockwood’s hand slip down once more, the warmth of his touch brushing against her skin. But this time, he did not remove them.

And Lucy did not want him to.

When she reopened her eyes, she found Lockwood staring intently down at her. Their faces were close now, close enough that she could hear the softness of his breath. Another blush crept up Lucy’s neck, and although she could feel it meandering onto her cheeks, she could not bring herself to tear her gaze away from Lockwood’s.

‘I think I’ve found my tactic,’ Lockwood said. Lucy furrowed her brow in confusion. ‘If I keep you distracted, you’re much less likely to kill my feet.’

Lucy could not help the laughter that burst from of her. She punched Lockwood lightly in the shoulder.

‘Prick,’ she said before she, truthfully, accidentally stood on Lockwood’s foot again.

‘See?!’ he said and Lucy laughed once more.

And that was how George found them some time later, dancing slowly in the basement, bodies pressed up against one another, as they laughed in each other’s embrace.

#lockwood and lucy #locklyle #anthony lockwood #lockwood #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #george cubbins #george karim #lockwood netflix

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heresmyfiddlestick · 2 months

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i've been meaning to do a short-by-shot breakdown of the trailers for the upcoming season of Doctor Who, and with full-length trailer #2 out today it seems like a good time.

this will cover the teaser trailer (dropped after the christmas special), trailers #1 and #2 (dropped March 22 and today respectively), and the YouTube short they've released with all the episode titles. I've previously looked at the premiere date teaser released March 15.

Title Drop Short

I'll start with this because it is the shortest and gives some helpful hints to identifying other clips.

The accompanying audio here is some babies crying as the lights flicker, showing the monster's shadow. Is the monster hunting the babies? Is it supposed to be protecting them?

What this screencap doesn't convey is the music notes lifting off the page on the far right. When looking up "The Devil's Chord" (aka the tritone) I find on Wikipedia that "George Harrison uses tritones on the downbeats of the opening phrases of the Beatles songs "The Inner Light", "Blue Jay Way", and "Within You Without You" - I'm clearly not big up on my George songs, and I think it would be hilarious if the Beatles-centric episode of Doctor Who winds up being specifically George Harrison-centric.

I can find no info on who Timothy Drake might be (besides Robin, but that feels like a long shot). There is a piece credited to Beethoven behind the book.

"Boom" - clearly The Moff trying to bring back the spooky one-word title steez of Blink and Hide and Listen and so on. This clip has falling rubble and a bit of lazer fire, and above the door we have written "Entrance 3"

We have a cawing corvid behind this one, as snow rushes past what looks like a sign for a pub. Pretty creepy sign!

The words appear in sequence with some electronic chimes here, before the whole thing glitches out. Social media episode?

Here we have the title for the episode that was provisionally known as "Regency", written by Kate Herron and Briony Redman. We have reference to "The Duchess of Pemberton", who is presumably "The Duchess" played by Indira Varma. 8 May 1813 is in fact in the Regency period, but I can't find any other historical significance to that date.

The multiple screens and tech set up here gives me the vibes of a television studio. Will Ruby turn out to be a Sam Jones situation, a companion orchestrated perfectly for the Doctor? I'd say that's unlikely but I'm not ruling it out.

Now THIS is a Doctor Who episode title. Go off king give us nothing!

Alright bearing those aesthetics in mind, let's move on to the teaser trailer that premiered after the Christmas special

Season Teaser

youtube

This trailer introduced us to the great, kinda creepy music that recurs throughout the rest of them. And a powerful gaze from Dr. Who themself.

I think I can connect this shot to a scene we'll see later.

We then pop to another stare, in a shirt we've already seen in the Christmas special - so this is probably Episode 1 ("Space Babies").

Lots of good stares this episode, as we also see him looking through a window in the premiere date teaser. Who is that behind him with Ruby?

Then he's running down a corridor, and I'm so glad they've chosen to give him loads of different outfits because that makes this job much easier.

This is undoubtedly in Episode 2. Is he racing to stop "The Devil's Chord" from being played? Or maybe he's going to find Ruby ensnared somewhere. More on that later.

Why is he wearing a whistle? Why are the lights so low?

Were they working out? I love it.

A TARDIS design has to have some good levers for yanking on. This one has that and a jukebox AND mood lighting. good for her!

"I have the whole universe at my fingertips" - this is only part of a quote, which we'll get more of in a later trailer. I like this spot on a cliff's edge that they end up on, and I've just noticed the silly little tree near the TARDIS. The Doctor fell deeply in love with Dingle's Door when they regenerated from 13 and now their go-to spot is gonna be precarious rocks overlooking the sea. Just my prediction. This is likely Episode 1 "Space Babies", given other clips we've seen of them popping out here in their Christmas special outfits.

A door opens, casting a shadow on Ruby as she looks somewhat dumbfounded at what lies on the other side. Judging by the costume, this is probably Space Babies too, and yeah it looks like there might be babies in jars behind Ruby there...

It really looks like he has fangs in this screencap. Again, probably Space Babies given the costume. But who knows!

He's slamming on a button. Possibly to "Reset Port B"?

Here is the Doctor dancing with Jonathan Groff in Episode 6 "Rogue", and nobody seems too interested in them, but then:

The Duchess (and those around her) have taken note of something.

Mr Groff glancing at the Doctor's lips lmao

I love his wig! Everyone has taken notice now, and there's clearly something that has interrupted their dance.

Here we've got the pair strutting along the TARDIS walkway, probably having just changed into these sweet outfits before heading to:

"Abbey Road Studios" in Episode 2 "The Devil's Chord"

They're freaking out I love them. This is a great second-trip in the TARDIS historical. The Doctor has fallen back on their old tricks, but at least they didn't end up in Cardiff again. They're in the recording booth here during a Beatles studio session.

Where is Ringo?!!!

There he is (:

The Doctor has stepped on something he shouldn't. This is presumably is "gonna be a minute!" in the other teaser I've looked at. Shot in the dark, this is from Episode 3 "Boom". Because of land mines. (And the rubble and lazer blasts in the Short seem to match the "warzone" vibe)

"I've really stepped in it now". This looks like similar lighting to the very first "intense stare" shot from the start of this trailer.

Continued in reblogs...

#doctor who #doctor who trailer #doctor who speculation #fifteenth doctor #ruby sunday #Youtube

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