#lloyd babbles

[lolitslloyd]

may I offer you two ugly ass grooms

[long-lost-mcguffin]

possessed kai au but instead of him mentally beating the fuck out of morro for going after lloyd he helps him heal from his trauma because holy shit this angry kid just needs to be told he’s enough

[firesofdainix]

Lloyd: why does Kai call you babygirl?

Cole: let's stop talking for a while.

[fiddler-sticks]

Since I've seen both takes and hate one of them

The take I hate is Montgomery being Misako's maiden name. LET LLOYD HAVE A HILARIOUSLY DATED MIDDLE NAME!!!!

[pufffinn]

Lloyd is transmasc and Akita is transfem

LITERALLY TRUE

[lloydfrontera]

man, lloyd still has a preservation instinct in the face of the bone dragon, huh. and he somehow thinks javier will allow him to drag him away from the enemy threatening a large amount of ppl??

y'know what's funny? except not really and instead just very sad if you think about it for long enough?

lloyd never really stops having a self-preservation instinct actually. that's. that's the thing. it's what makes the ending so sad at first. lloyd actually has a very strong self-preservation instinct all the way to the very end. it's what drives him to try so hard to find a way to escape the restoration of fate. he really, really doesn't want to die. everything he does is because he wants to live.

but. no matter how much he cares about his own life. he still cares about javier's much more.

it's easy to look at lloyd's actions and think "oh he doesn't care about his own life anymore". but no, he does, he very much does, the narration makes sure to emphasize how very much he still does. he just cares about javier more.

BUT ALSO YEAH i love that with the bone dragon lloyd is like "if javier fights that thing he's gonna die and he's not allowed to do that i will drag him by the ears if i have to but by god he's coming with me" like good luck with that bud i'm sure that will go great <3

[ricecaqes]

sometimes ill consider changing my pfp/header but at the same time ive had them like this since i started actively using tumblr so idk. theyre like a peculiar time capsule

[roseverdict]

lego youtube uploading crystallized the day after i cry publicly about nya like an avenging angel

sidenote but aside from "dear nya" and "hi nya" on either side, The Lanterns all read lorem ipsum all the way down so far and this knowledge is ruining the heart hurty tone of the scene

[anderperries]

i really hope andrew lloyd weber is surrounded by family and being pet when they put him down today </3

[lolitslloyd]

They/them Frankie Stein !!!

[long-lost-mcguffin]

RAGH. ninjago ponies be upon ye

[firesofdainix]

Tumblr pitted two bad bitches against each other huh (Lloyd Garmadon and Antigone)

[nicolloyd]

"HOLY CANOLLI!! lloyd and garmadon in a face off!! 😱 nooo what is he doing??? 😟" JAY WALKER SHUT YOUR TRAP RIGHT NOW. WHAT ARE BABBLING ABOUT.

the recaps were so funny pop music blasting in the backround as nya gets kidnapped.. "NOOOOO- JUMP UP KICK BACK WHIP AROUND WITH THE FIRE EFFECT.

[pufffinn]

i had a dream the other night that lloyd was actually named james and lloyd was his middle name that he started going by to sound more like ‘lord garmadon’ and i made this in a fit of sleep deprived passion

[pillowmints4lloyd]

Now an AU where series Wu raises Lloyd.

Unlike my movie AU where Wu raises Lloyd(find here) Misako doesn't even explain in person to Wu like Koko did. She drops Lloyd at the monastery doors Harry Potter style with a note. Once again the note says not to tell Lloyd that Garmadon is his father.

Wu finds baby Lloyd, still in grief from banishing his own brother. He reads the note and proceeds to have a mental breakdown in the middle of the night with Lloyd babbling happily. He raises Lloyd anyway.

At first, Lloyd calls Wu uncle. But Lloyd at an early age, who has no idea who his mom or dad is, sees kids in the village with their parents, who have similar dynamics as he does with Wu. He comes to the conclusion that Wu's actually his dad when he's quite young. He calls Wu Dad and Wu panics.

He's like, WHAT no, I shouldn't let him call me that, he's Garmadon's son, but Lloyd is the only family member he currently has left with Garmadon gone and raising Lloyd reminds him of raising Morro. Plus, Misako ditched him too. So now Wu latches onto one of the only people he has left. Lloyd.

He let's Lloyd call him Dad, feeling both guilt and happiness. Lloyd grows up thinking he's Wu's son and known by others as Wu's son. While Wu calls and thinks of Lloyd as his son. It also leads to the ninja believing that Lloyd is their Sensei's son when they arrive a few years later.

OH HO HO BUT GARMADON EVENTUALLY BREAKS OUT AND ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE. Garmadon absolutely rages when he sees Lloyd call Wu Dad, 'BECAUSE MY BROTHER STOLE MY CHILD!!!' Wu feels horribly guilty and tries to explain while Lloyd is having an existential crisis because 'WTF MY DAD IS MY UNCLE??'

This au summed up is basically instead of Wu rizzing Misako with Garmadon out of the picture, it's raising Lloyd instead.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Special Order 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Steve Rogers

Summary: You wake up in the trunk of the car, unaware of how you got theere or where your going.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You groan as you rock with the motion of the wheels. A veer has you rolling against the interior, the cloth in your mouth so dry you nearly gag. Your arms hurt, bent and bound behind you, your ankles tied at a cross. You’ve lost circulation in your fingers and toes, your digits throbbing but numb.

You're dizzy and dazed. Your memories are splinters. There were flashing lights and vodka chasers and your friends were all so happy, babbling in bubbling tones as the music pulsed. One minute they were there and the next, you were walking down the hallway, following the beacon of the restroom sign.

Then it all went foggy and you woke up in the dark. The steady whir assures you that you’re in a vehicle, stuffed into the tight trunk. What you don’t know is why. Who would do this? Why you?

You try not to think about it, not beyond how you’re going to get out. You don’t want to think about what your accoster will do to you. Or if you even can get out of this.

You don’t know how long you’ve been in there, how long they’ve been driving. You could be twenty minutes down the road or eight hours; days even. As you try to count, your anxiety mounts. You keep losing track. One minute, five minutes, however many seconds. You’re counting too fast.

Breathe.

You flutter your lashes, fighting another wave of exhaustion. You don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or something else causing these spikes of wakefulness and unconsciousness. You plunge into another void, only to come to with teeth chattering.

You’re still. The engine is quiet and the noise of crickets fills your ears. You try to turn but only jar your shoulder. You lift your feet, trying to kick. You’re too weak for that. The effort has you woozy.

Your eyes round and you gulp as you hear a mulch. Footsteps, steady and certain. You hold your breath as you listen to them get closer. Your eyes tinge and your heart hammers as the stop, just on the other side of the metal. 

Click. The trunk pops and the lid flips up. There’s a shadow over you. You twitch but can’t do much more than that. Even if you weren’t tied up, you wouldn’t have the strength.

The silhouette is broad, shoulders limned in the moonlight, muscles obvious beneath the taut black fabric. A man by your guess. He lifts you, folding you over his shoulder as he slams the trunk shut. You moan around the gag as he pivots sharply.

You can’t see much around him. There’s light coming from somewhere. As you wriggle, a sudden spank on your ass stops you. The impact ripples down your muscles.

“You don’t wanna mess around, toots,” he warns, pinching your thigh. “So be a good girl and settle down.”

You squeak but stop squirming. He’s right. You don’t want to get yourself in worse trouble. You just need to play along until you can get your bearings. He purrs and tickles your leg before dropping his hand.

He climbs a set of steps, the incline making your head spin, and there’s several short beeps. A door opens and he carries you out of the night chill. He puts you down, the sudden change gives you vertigo and you slump sideways on the bench.

“I’m impressed, you shouldn’t be awake yet,” he says as he fumbles around. 

Your eyes flit across the walls, lit by a light overhead. It looks like a typical house. Nothing out of the ordinary. The man before you is vaguely familiar. You squint at him as the edges of your vision cloud.

“It’s alright, I can pop you another dose, it’ll help your head,” he chuckles and pulls you to sit straight, “let me get a good look at you.”

He grabs your chin and bends. His eyes scan across your face and down your body. He tilts his head and clucks.

“Mm, you looked different in those lights,” he remarks as he lets you go. You lean against the wall and whimper. “Not bad though.”

Your blink, eyes stinging. Who is this man? What does he want? You stare him in the face; his eyes are deep blue, almost teal, and a trim of brownish hair bristles across his lip. The sides of his head are shaved close and the longer strands are combed back on top.

“That’s right, get a good look. Just means there’s no going back.”

You blanch and he laughs louder, “relax,” he pats your head, “all you gotta do is listen. That’s all I want from you, baby face.”

You stare at him, terrified. The way he’s talking, fills you with dread. His laughter tapers off and he hauls you up again. You whine around the twisted fabric.

He swings you over his shoulder again and continues down the hallway. He comes to a door on the other side of the staircase and opens it. He descends, a step at the time, following the right angle down to another door. He unlocks it with another series of high-pitch beeps.

This isn’t good. This isn’t spontaneous. This is… planned. This is worse than you could ever expect.

The world whooshes around you as he throws you off his shoulder. You hit a mattress with a squeak. The man stands at the foot of the bed and tuts.

“Well, you can be proud, you made it through day one,” he declares, “but trust me, that’s nothing compared to day two.”