archive.

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Welcome to #TWISTEDWIT ... this is a highly selective and mutually exclusive roleplay blog for bbc robin hood’s SIR GUY OF GISBORNE  est. feb 2014. This blog is mainly based on the 2006 bbc portrayal mixed with influences from other historical media. However, after seven years, Guy has really developed under my OWN PERSONAL HEADCANONS. So, think, hunter canon :))

topics featured on this blog : trauma reactions: when fight and fawn have a bastard love child . violence as a coping mechanism . more issues than vogue . ptsd can be sexy too . button pushing for fun and profit .

Written by HUNTER ( HE/THEY), 25+. . I fluctuate in activity and this blog should be considered to be on a PERMANENT SEMI-HIATUS. // HEAVILY affiliated with @piraticalwit and @spynorth

                                                   ** CARRD **

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A Reminder...

This blog is now an archive, and Guy can be found here.

If we were mutuals here, please feel free to follow me there!

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obviously by the url change, the archive is complete. Just a friendly reminder that you are more than welcome to follow me on my new blog @twistedwit. Today is my first day back at work so while the new blog is set up (and christened with writing!) I will work on refollowing mutuals and organizing tags later this evening or tomorrow. I have received SO many messages and things that have made my day so please know I haven’t ignored them or you, I will respond as soon as I’m able to take the time. Have a good Thursday!!

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New blog is up and running, same URL as the old. Feel free to follow if we’re mutuals now. *blows kisses*

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okay but while I’m handling my scandal over here setting up a new blog I’m quietly cackling over the fact that Lucas got an anon that basically said “WHAT DID YOU DO??” and that thought will continue to warm me on many a cold winter night.

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SO. I lied. unintentionally. Lucas woke up and after talking to him I realized it’s not that I want to leave tumblr per se, but more that I want to leave my current dash. I know I don’t owe explanations but I have a lot going on that I prefer to use tumblr to escape from. My MS is going through another relapse, I’ve been navigating my c-ptsd diagnosis and getting the appropriate treatment...and all I want to do is log on here to write my silly little character with my silly little friends and it feels like my dash is drowned in negativity that I need to slog through. It is toxic as fuck when it comes to ruining my self care. So I will be making a new blog for Guy. I am going to be selective and focus my time and energy on people who both write with me and add something positive to my day. We aren’t all bunnies and sunshine (except for Lucas. and he’s on meds for it) every day but perpetual sludge is so damn tiring. I love you all but in the words of Bilbo Baggins - I like less than half of you half as much as you deserve.

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This has been a long time coming, but after months of struggling with writing and with personal issues that have made it increasingly difficult to be here on many levels, I’ve come to the incredibly painful decision that it’s time tumblr and I part ways. I’ve been holding on too tightly for too long, afraid to let go of something that has meant so much to me, and it’s been suffocating the life out of both me and what’s left of my muse. It’s been a good run, eight+ years of writing this idiot, and it’s been some of the best years of my life. I’ve made friendships that I’m going to miss more than you’ll ever know, and had experiences that I wouldn’t trade for the world, but it’s time to let go now. I want to thank everyone who has talked with me, written with me and shared this little piece of themselves with me and my muse. We’re both gonna miss the hell out of all of you.

Thanks for the memories. Love you guys. <33

[honigimohr]

“I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”

— Charles Bukowski (via hell0mandi)

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" you've got a knack for twisting your blade in my skin, and I've got a habit of pretending it doesn't burn. "

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piraticalwit​:

One eye half opens, peering at the man lounging across from him with nothing short of absolute adoration blended with a lazy contentment, and Killian shifts his weight slightly in the water, letting one foot nudge teasingly at Guy’s thigh. The older man’s hair is plastered to his forehead, drenched by warm water and covered with the soapy froth that the Irishman had insisted they include - one of his more brilliant ideas, he thinks, as he leans forward, gathering soapy suds and placing them atop his companion’s head, giving a pointed wink. “Much better style I think, aye. Give me a few minutes and maybe I can fashion some sort of hat…” The words are low, laced with a laugh and the detective shifts so that he’s ever closer, ignoring the water that sloshes around him. “Though, I have to admit, love - “ Lips curve in a slow grin as his thumb brushes across the tip of Guy’s nose, gathering the bubbles that had landed so brazenly and tossing them aside with nary a thought. “ - you’re pretty cute even without it.”

Lips press against the newly exposed skin, grin widening against the lingering taste of soap and what can only be described as simply Guy, and Killian trails them further, chasing the sweep of a stubbled jaw. They ghost across the shell of his boyfriend’s ear and the words when they come are gruff, edged by a hunger it would take a stronger man than he to ignore. “ - aye. Handsome even. Breathtaking? Or perhaps me favorite yet .. mine.” He pulls back before the older man can respond, blue eyes glinting with affection as fingers tug on a strand of wet hair that lays apart from the rest. A lump forms in his chest and the detective spends a moment trying to press it back into the shadows, dismay at the realization that it’s a losing battle following the steady thump of his heart - and before he can stop it, the question is spilling from hesitant lips. 

He’s imagined it a million times before, has more than one idea scrawled across various bits of paper hidden from the other man’s eyes.. each one dismissed for not being enough, not being able to convey just how head over heels he is for the man that has fallen so easily into his life. But even the quiet voice of admonition in the back of Killian’s mind has to admit that the setting could be worse - warm water, candles, the best company he’s ever had … aye. It could be much worse.

“Stay with me. Forever.” Weight shifts once more as he leans closer, mind momentarily flashing to the ring hidden in the back of a drawer. He has no time to get it, has no time to do this right - but something in his heart whispers that the other man won’t give a damn about tradition. - so Killian presses a kiss to Guy’s lips, words falling against them as he throws his heart into the air, leaving the detective no other option than to chase it. “Marry me?”

There are few things about day to day life that he has come to savor with quite the same deep and abiding affection as a tub full of steaming water and the love of his life, the combination enough to boost flagging spirits and shrug off even the longest and toughest of days...and when Killian is in a mood as playful as tonight it is impossible to resist the Irishman’s charms, and Guy finds himself succumbing to helpless bouts of laughter as he ends up sporting a beard crafted entirely of bubbles. It had been this way almost from the beginning, their relationship built upon shared humor, good-natured teasing and the quest for the perfect prank, but also slow dances in the kitchen at breakfast, nights beneath a blanket of stars while they take turns making up stories for each of the constellations, and a passion that threatens to set the world ablaze with the intensity of its fire. 

Every hour spent with Killian is one that he never imagined himself worthy of, every heartbeat utterly carefree but also burdened with the knowledge that what they share is the greatest gift that the older man will ever be given in his life, and he’s vowed to spend the rest of whatever time they’re allowed to have ensuring that he never takes a second of it for granted. So when Killian grows serious for a moment Guy is aware of it instantly, the subtle shift in mood enough to cause his heart to clench as he seeks out the Irishman’s gaze, searching for some hint as to what thoughts might be hidden behind the veil of his eyes. 

And as if in unconscious reply to the unspoken question, Killian presses closer to him, hushed words whispered against his lips that steal the breath from his lungs and leave him stunned into momentary silence as he struggles to make sense of what just happened. It only takes a heartbeat - maybe two - for the world to right itself once more, and then he’s moving, one hand dripping with bubbles slipping around to bury itself in the hair at the younger man’s nape while the other lifts to rest trembling fingers against Killian’s face. His voice is unsteady when he speaks, shaking with the sheer force of unleashed emotion and eyes filled with such love and devotion that it spills over and trickles down his cheeks, cutting a path through the bubbles that remain.

He swallows hard, wanting to laugh and cry and spin around in circles until he’s dizzy with it, but more than anything wanting to remain right where he is until the end of time, grinning at the love of his life through joyful tears that gleam in the candlelight like the stars they told stories of beneath a midnight sky.  

“Yes. Killian...yes.”

[mepricklydaisy-deactivated20230]

[richiecrispie]

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piraticalwit​:

Guy smells like freedom, he thinks. Smells like the duality of feral and soft (if there is such a scent) blended with fir trees and moldy leaves pressed into the damp earth - and as the shifter’s arms wrap around him tighter, pulling the younger man closer until his nose brushes against the line of the older man’s collar bone, Killian catches another whiff of something just below the surface, something he had thought left behind in London - home.  

“Fuck !” The rough bark of the tree scratches along his spine just as Guy’s teeth find purchase at the hollow of his throat and the Irishman’s fingers cling to the other man’s broad shoulders like a drowning man searching for something, anything, to hold onto. “Guy, jesus…” His own teeth bite into his bottom lip, trying to muffle the sound of his cries in the off chance there’s some voyeur in the forest who has nothing better to do than watch two men who are outsiders everywhere else find comfort in one another’s arms. A well of blood follows the sharp sting, a metallic tang that Killian knows will be licked away during the fervor of another kiss and he welcomes it, imagining the blooming red to be a siren’s call for his lover’s own lips. 

The shifter is too busy to notice as of yet, the swell of the Irishman’s throat has been abandoned in favor of painting a pattern of bruises along the sweep of his jaw and along the side of his neck, nothing but a growl as an answer to the his quiet whimpers. Weeks together like this have provided more than enough practice for each man to figure out what the other likes, and Killian Jones has ever been a quick study - so one palm releases its hold on the older man’s forearm, moving upwards so that fingers can tangle in dark hair, tugging to get Guy’s attention. Satisfied when the other’s gaze is holding his own, he arches a brow, forget me not blues glinting with a mix of amusement and hunger. “My turn, yeah?” He runs his tongue over the blood that still coats his lip, shoving his lover back slightly and pushing off the tree so that he can settle on his knees, damp dirt cold as it seeps into denim. “I wanna taste you.”

Hunger has been a constant companion to the both of them on this journey, the ache of an empty belly so familiar a feeling that it’s not even enough to keep them awake at night...but there are many kinds of hunger, and the sort that has the shifter clutched tight in its embrace has nothing to do with food. Instead the haze of red that blurs the edges of his vision so that only Killian is in sharp focus is driven by pure lust, the kind that steals the air from his lungs and makes his fingers tremble where they clutch at the Irishman with a desperation he’s never known before. And as the edges of his teeth find purchase in the tender flesh beneath the younger man’s chin, the tiny blossom of crimson that is left in his wake slides across his tongue in a coppery flash, a low groan slipping from between his lips as Killian arches up to press himself closer still to the source of that pleasure-pain.

When the younger man gives a tug to dark, tousled locks, Guy draws back just enough to meet crystalline blue with stormy grey, watching with wide eyes as his lover slowly sinks to his knees among the fallen leaves, the words that settle between them leaving the shifter a mess of unspeakable need. He’s little more than a night-dark planet spinning around the blazing star that is Killian, the path of his orbit drawing him in close enough to touch, two heavenly bodies pulled into each other by their own sort of gravity...one that overpowers all else in their universe. 

And as that gravity works its magic on the Irishman before him, Guy can’t help but allow his head to fall forward with a low growl as he watches Killian’s lips part, the searing heat of his mouth a sharp contrast to the chill of the night air that buffers them. Long fingers thread into dark hair and pull gently at first, approving of the way that the other man is stripping the breath from his lungs, searing a path of flame where Killian is asserting his ownership of the shifter’s soul. But the patience to allow his lover this time is fleeting, and as Guy’s gaze fixes upon the sight of the Irishman’s talented mouth wrapped around him with stunning effect he can’t contain the words that spill from between lips gone slack with pleasure. 

“Killian...no more tasting.” It’s not a request. “Up. Turn around.”

[rpmemes-galore]

spooky scary haunted starters … sentence starters

“Did you call me?”

“Was that a scream?”

“Did you close that door?”

“It just turned on by itself!”

“I just saw that shadow move!”

“That was definitely not the wind.”

“It sounds like someone’s in here.”

“Is that… is that a face over there?”

“I heard breathing, right in my ear!”

“Ow! Something just scratched me!”

“I swear, I’m not joking, I saw it move!”

“Does it smell like perfume/cologne to you?”

“It’s not faulty wiring, something turned it off!”

“I didn’t slam the door. I thought that was you.”

“It feels creepy in here. Can we leave, please?”

“The lights are flickering… that’s not a good sign.”

“I could’ve sworn I heard someone talking in here.”

“There’s something standing at the foot of my bed…”

“There’s no one in here. You’re just imagining things.“

“But, there’s no one else here… who’s walking upstairs?”

“Listen, you might not believe me, but I know what I saw.”

“Wait, I thought you came home earlier. I heard your voice.”

“Haha, spooky message on the mirror, very funny. You wrote it, right?”

“It was your bright idea to use a spirit board, and now look what’s happening!”

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𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋  𝐁𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄.

bold  what  applies.      italics    for  verse dependent.

been  cheated  on     /      been  bullied    /      had  your  heart  broken    /      broken  someone’s  heart   /     told  a  horrible  lie   /     been  betrayed     /      been  framed  or  set-up      /      stolen  something  of  value    /      overdosed  on  drugs      /     been  drunk      /      cheated     /      bullied      /      been  publicly  humiliated      /      punched  someone  in  the  face    /     been  beaten  up     /      broken  a  bone   /      been  admitted  to  a  hospital      /    put  someone  in  the  hospital   /   had  a  near  -  death  experience     /      been  drugged    /     done  drugs   /      smoked      /      been  arrested     /    been  homeless      /      been  forced  to  commit  a  crime   /    died  and  came  back  to  life    /       kissed  someone  they weren’t  attracted  to     /   bled  severely   /     killed  someone    /     been  forced  to  kill  someone      /      had  an  attempt  on  your  life  /       lost  someone     /     loved  someone     /    watched  a  loved  one  die  /     failed  to  save  or  help  a  loved  one   /    felt  helpless /     watched  your  world  die  ,  disappear     /     had  your  life’s  work  stolen  or  destroyed      /      gone  without  food  for  over  three  days   /      gone  without  sleep  for  over  three  days      /      been  shot    /      been  stabbed   /      been  poisoned      /      been  held  prisoner   /     been  trapped   /    been  held  hostage    /     held  someone  hostage    /      been  stuck  in  a  different  world,  universe,  time      /        been  abused  by  someone  who  should  have  loved  ,  appreciated  ,  valued  you    /     had  a  panic  attack   /    had  night  terrors     /      been  in  a  car  accident      /     lost  your  job      /      lost  a  fight    /     been  divorced     /      been  abandoned    /    passed  out  from  pain    /     cried  yourself  to  sleep    /      spent  a  whole  day  in  bed    /     hurt  yourself   /     taken  your  anger  out  on  yourself     /      taken  your  anger  out  on  someone  you  love      /     been  used     /    been  manipulated    /      felt  used      /      manipulated  someone  else   /    had  your  memories  ,  mind  wiped  ,  stolen  or  tampered  with    /      been  taken  over  by  a  hostile  force      /    been  terrified   /    played  a  cruel  game  on  someone      /     been  forced  to  smile   /    felt  too  many  things  at  once   /     laughed  when  you  felt  like  crying      /      been  in  denial    /      been  denied      /     faced  your  demons.

Tagged by: @spynorth​​

Tagging: whoever hasn’t done this yet. tag me so i can see your answers

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𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒.

REPOST PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG

𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰.    innocence, big dreamer, waking up too early, walking home, being afraid of meeting new people, slim hands, always cold, reading a book under a tree, the smell of the forest, missing your home.

𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐞.     independent, caring too much for others, sharp looks, walking down the city late at night, the tallest and more spectacular building, iron, being single and okay in a world that tells you that being single is bad.

𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭.     falling in love easily and heavily, traveler, the infinity of the bluest sky, storms, broken smiles, forgetting people who used to be your beloved ones, feeling out of place, mistrusting people, a fleeting romance.

𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰.     feeling as if you have seen so much and as if you know a lot, prejudge, tight hugs that leave you breathless, a grey sky, serenity, intelligence, being left behind, chains, smoke, the pride of someone wise.

𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞.      petals, jealousy, being tired of living with the same old faces, whispered secrets, marble, sundresses, white clothes, the first sunset of winter, pride in who you are, learning to get over someone.

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐥.     family, golden light, the sea murmuring in your ear, summer afternoons, caramel ice cream, collecting seashells and other things and calling them treasures, living breezy and carefree, swimming in sunlight.

𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲.       artistic, getting excited easily, dancing and singing while you are alone, looking at your friends having fun, no phone, being afraid of judgement, spring, a meaningful gift, the first ray of sunlight.

TAGGED BY STOLEN FROM : @ghosttsar​​ TAGGING :  @piraticalwit​ and you !

[seas-and-shanties]

whatever [falls in gay pirate love with you]