#welcome to my dark twisted mind etc etc

[dykeseinfeld]

what if you were flirting with this girl but she lowkey you suspect she has ulterior motives in the challenge you are embarking on and also she has fatal blood cancer with weeks to live at best and also your new friend has been in love with her for his entire life and also she is secretly murdering everyone around you and also you are in love with your necromancer and also you and your necromancer share a bond that is so much deeper and weirder than love and also you are fated to die and also she is actively lying about her identity and trying to murder you and your necromancer with giant skeleton spiders.

but now consider. she is also really pretty.

#tlt #welcome to my dark twisted mind etc etc

[pinkroseblooms]

Boy Toy, Pt.2

Sugar Baby!TojixSugar Mama!f!Reader

Summary: Something's changed in your dynamic lately; Toji makes it clear the night you unknowingly push him towards desperate measures to ensure you keep your promise. AU without sorcerers and curses, etc, forgot if I mentioned that in the previous part. wc: 4.3k a/n: warnings and tags include smut, rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dubcon, threats of forced impregnation/kidnapping, yandere!Toji, possessive behavior, toxic ass behavior, emotional manipulation, jealousy, sub/dom elements, sort of pet play(ngl I'm not sure?) reader is pretty twisted as well, lots inappropriate stuff, I'll add more later if I need to. Enjoy!

Nothing really changes the next few weeks; in the aftermath of your attempt to cut ties with Toji, you’ve found it fairly easy to return to the previous “arrangement” between the two of you. The only difference is that Toji is more...affectionate?

Granted, he’s never been shy: when the line between client and employer had been crossed, Toji became quickly accustomed to invading your personal space pretty much any time the mood struck him. Whether it was sweeping you up in his arms to pin you against whatever nearby surface was stable enough to rail you against or just giving your bottom a playful pinch, Toji would strike without warning or care for your busy schedule. For the most part, you had no complaints, as long as Toji was mindful to not leave marks that couldn’t be easily covered. As for non sexual contact, it was almost always you who initiated hugs, chaste kisses, hand holding, etc. Toji allowed it, welcomed it eventually, but it was rare for him to be the one to initiate unless the physical touches were leading to sex. 

“You smell so good.” 

“You need to shave.” You chuckle softly as Toji nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble leaving a slightly red mark as it itches the skin. “I should smell nice; because of someone I had to wash up again.”

After you finally managed to pry Toji off you, you had hopped into the shower while he stayed lounging in the bed, feeling too lazy to do more than wipe himself off with the shirt he had practically ripped in two to take off earlier. You were sitting in front of your vanity, having planned out your outfit ahead of time and now you were trying to decide what to accessorize with while Toji offered such helpful suggestions as, “don’t wear panties” and “are you sure you don’t want to go again?” 

“Whatcha getting all dolled up for?” Toji asks absently, pressing slow, sensual kisses down your shoulder. “Come back to bed. Let’s stay in tonight.”

“You say that like that isn’t what we do most nights.”

“You hate going out more than I do.”

“As true as that is,” You conceded lightly. “I still have obligations: the current CEO of Kamo invited me to dinner to discuss some proposals about shipping their products through us. You can eat without me, I’m planning on taking advantage of the free meal.”

“That’s my girl.”

One of your family’s company’s most influential associates cornered you after that morning’s meeting for a separate one on one dinner to go over the plans. You can grin and bear it to keep things genial, tedious as it all is. Choso Kamo is a little less rigid when he’s not around a group of people and you suppose he feels more relaxed speaking to someone he’s more familiar with. 

“But ya know, I could just kill him for you.”

“Did you run out of your allowance already?” Your eyes drift from your face in the mirror to where Toji has returned to sit on the edge of the bed. “I told you, if you want more for betting, you’re on your own.”

“You can afford it.” Toji replies with a shrug, not making any move to slip his boxers back on. “I didn’t actually: what makes you assume I blew through the cash already?”

“Because, it sounds like you’re fishing for a job. Anyway, I don’t need you to kill anyone.” You dab a dot of cream over the faint dark circles under your eyes. “Not at the moment.”

“I heard this guy is into some shady side deals. Is he dangerous?”

“Allegedly. Anybody who does get their hands on incriminating evidence always seems to go radio silent.” You apply a touch of red to your lips. “He could be a problem if I offend him during our meeting, but he’s smart enough to know his place; as long as I don’t directly challenge what authority he believes he has over me, our negotiation will be smooth sailing. He’s not the type to try anything.”

“No worries, he’s not gonna try shit with me there.”

You raise an eyebrow at Toji’s smirking face. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m your bodyguard: shouldn’t I go along and, ya know, guard your body?” Toji’s eyes travel down your shoulders and back to your ass; you’re perched on the cushioned stool in front of your vanity. He loves watching you get ready, at least, he usually does. “I wouldn’t wear that clingy dress to a business dinner.”

“Which dress would you wear?”

“Cute.” Toji snorts. “When are we leaving?”

“I’m leaving in an hour and a half. Do I really need to explain why your presence would be detrimental to this occasion?” You absentmindedly fix your hair, mentally debating on wearing it up or down. Luckily the marks Toji had so savagely left had mostly faded; nothing that a little makeup and a strategically placed necklace wouldn’t cover. “We plan to discuss business, and that’s all.”

“I’d be going as your chaperone; he’ll probably have a couple men of his own posted outside the restaurant.”

“We’re meeting at his place.”

“His place.” Toji repeats flatly, easy going smirk falls. His eyes are boring holes into your head and you don’t need to glance in the mirror to know.

“It’s not the first time he’s had me over for a meal; he’s never made any inappropriate advances or threatened me.”

You sound bored as you explain all this to Toji, but it isn’t doing anything to pacify him. Why are you adamant about not having him come with you? He doesn’t need to be at the dinner table, he could stay outside the dining hall or sit in the car. It wouldn’t be the first time, even if it’s been a long while since you’ve had Toji play the role of hired muscle. 

“How long have you known him?”

You pause to think. “Technically since we’ve been children, but we’ve never been particularly close. Our families' companies have always worked in tandem together and now we end up working together every now and then. He’s my age, give or take a year.”

“Good looking?”

“Yes, I’d say so.” You turn around slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to leave me for my colleague?”

Toji doesn’t find much humor in your attempt to get him to crack a smile. 

“What if he does make a move? If you turn him down, isn’t that bad for business?”

“I highly doubt it; that’s really not Choso’s style.”

“Sure sounds like you know him well.”

“My point is, there’s nothing to get worked up about. I’m going to a business dinner, not a battlefield.”

Toji is vaguely familiar with who Choso Kamo is and his family’s reputation, but their questionable business dealings isn’t what’s making his hackles raise.

When he escorts you to social events, Toji can see what he suspects you don’t pay attention to: men and women alike seem to hold their breath when you speak to them directly. Their eyes linger, they don’t seem to even be cognizant of their own behavior. Men in particular will cast scornful looks Toji’s way, the bravest make snide comments under their breath only to wither under his own cold gaze. 

It’s entirely possible that part of your allure is due to being so scarce in public: you only grace a function with your presence if it’s absolutely necessary or if it would be considered an affront to refuse the invitation. You’re not exactly a people person and you’re not actually as good at reading people as Toji: you prefer everything cut and dry; you’ve managed to get along by charisma more than anything else. Toji has noted that you’re a person people want to be liked by. They want your approval. Choso Kamo isn’t an exception. Toji recalls on two separate occasions the imposing man peeled himself away from his solitary position at his table to greet you and you alone. He’s the only one who holds Toji’s stare and returns it with a look of utter contempt.

Blind as you might be to it, Toji’s perceptive eyes can see how the man practically bounds over to you, eager gaze trained on your polite, but kind smile, the way his paw-like hand grips yours ever so carefully when you ask Choso about his brothers and make small talk. Choso wants your approval and Toji would bet a cool one million it’s not all he wants from you.

“Hey big guy, why don’t you order in something special for yourself for dinner?” You sit down on the edge of the bed next to him, lean your head against his shoulder and run one of your hands up and down his forearm. “What I want you to do is stay here, all warm and cozy in bed, while I handle all this boring work stuff. There’s absolutely no reason you need to concern yourself with Choso Kamo or anybody I might need to have these silly, boring dinner meetings with. Do you understand?”

“How often do you expect to be called out this late for ‘business dinners’?” Toji whips his head around, a deep frown marred his handsome features. “Don’t condescend to me; I’m not a fucking idiot.” he pulls his arm away from your comforting touch. “Shit, why don’t you just go marry the guy? He’s obviously the better fit: rich, got his own business, bet your family will fucking love him.”

“Oh for goodness sakes, I am not listening to this-”

“Sit down.” Toji easily pushes you by your shoulders so you plop right back down onto the mattress. “Don’t walk away from me. I already told you, if you think you can go behind my back and mess around with other men, you’re dead wrong. You get that lumbering jackass on the phone and cancel tonight because I’m telling you you’re not going.”

You stare up at him strangely. “You’re serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“No, I mean,” A half smile of bewilderment comes to your lips. “I thought you were teasing, but…are you actually jealous?”

“No.”

You give Toji an unimpressed look. “Then why are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum!” Toji barks, red faced and fists clenched; he’s itching to hit the pillows or the wall. He can’t remember the last time he had gotten this angry. “I’m just pissed.”

“Maybe, but I think you’re also worried.” You reply coolly. “I never even considered Choso before…but you know, he is my type. And he’s very agreeable when he’s not moody, reliable…I’m sure he would be a lot easier to train than another rabid dog I know.”

“I know what game you’re trying to play, little girl.” Toji leans down at the waist, arms on either side of you on the bed, as if to emphasize how much bigger and stronger he is. “You’re really pushing your luck.”

“Says the man with the gambling addiction.” You glance down between Toji’s legs. “Is that your way of trying to distract me?”

Toji follows your eyes; he hadn’t even noticed. He’s hard as a rock.

“I wonder what did it for you: was it pushing me down? Barking orders at me?” You reach up to poke Toji’s scrunched up nose. “Or did that talk about training do something to you?”

Toji doesn’t have to look down; he felt his cock twitch. You kiss his nose and put your hands on either side of his face.

“I really don’t intend on adopting another puppy anytime soon. Please Toji, be reasonable; I’ll only be gone for a few hours, you’ll barely miss me.”

Toji doesn’t say anything, but continues to scowl. He can hardly bring himself to think about it, but you’re wrong; he misses you every time you have to leave the house. Sure, Toji can spend his time however he likes with the allowance you give him and a house stocked with food and entertainment, but it doesn’t take long for him to get bored and sluggish. When you have to leave the house and don’t need him to escort you, Toji finds the things he used to get so much enjoyment out of have lost some of their charm. More and more lately Toji finds himself curling up either in your bed where he’s surrounded by your scent or napping on the nearest couch to the door. He hates how the click of the front door lock sends a wave of relief crashing over him, how a little voice echoes in his head “she’s home, finally” but Toji can ignore it while he’s busy stealing your breath away with kisses and clawing at your business casual clothes.

Besides, what if while he’s away at the track or the tables, you come back early? You might see he’s not there and decide to go back out or take on some other task thinking Toji’s content being left to his own devices. Maybe on one of those days you’ll stop at a cafe or a bar and you meet someone? 

“You’re the smartest dumb person I ever met.” Toji chuckles softly in spite of how irritated he still feels. “Everywhere I go with you, there’s all these people and they’re all better suited and they all want you. It’s constant. You know how exhausting it is, knowing there’s all these assholes out there waiting to snatch you up the minute they see an opening?”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

“And you’re wrong. I will…that much.” Toji tells you firmly. “Miss you. I don’t like you going out. Even if I get to go with you, I hate it ‘cause I gotta see how they all look at you. I didn’t used to; fuck, you made me proud. You make me proud,” he corrects himself quietly. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

You look conflicted and Toji is hopeful; he’d like to avoid using force on you, even if he does get a kick out using his strength on you and handling you like a ragdoll. But this is different. 

“Baby, why don’t you reschedule? Say you’re not feeling good and can’t make it tonight, any excuse.” Toji smiles roguishly as he slowly presses you down onto the bed, straddling your hips so you can feel the full weight of him and how hard he is. “You look too good dressed up like this…makes me wanna lock you up and keep you all to myself.”

“I suppose…I could speak with him over coffee. Something more casual.” You move up the bed and sigh as a spark comes back to Toji’s cold eyes. “You really are a scary guy, Toji.” 

“I just don’t want to share you.” Toji rocks his hips, dragging the tip of his cock over the soft material of your dress; drops of precum stain the fabric. “So, so pretty.”

“Toji, I just got this!”

“Buy another.” Toji grinds against your thigh and gropes one of your tits roughly. “I’m gonna rip this one off anyway.”

You gasp as Toji makes good on his promise, his hands gripping the front of your dress and pulling it apart down the middle. The seams pop and the fabric tears right down the middle, revealing the matching lingerie set you had been wearing underneath; Toji curses under his breath.

“That’s what you were wearin’ underneath?” he asks incredulously. “Was this meant for him?”

“Of course not. I was going to surprise you when I got home.” You scolded him tersely. “Honestly, you have no tact.”

“Guess you need to train me better.” 

Toji kisses you hard, not giving you much time to react as he forces his tongue into your mouth and starts grinding himself into your still covered pussy. You don’t fight it when Toji takes your wrists in one hand and holds them over your head; he’s not letting you go anytime soon. You’re too busy rubbing yourself back on him, loving the feel of his cock desperately trying to fuck you, like he can’t even wait for you to take off the panties. 

“From now on you have to always tell me where you’re going and who’s gonna be there.” Toji’s demanding tone is a bit undermined by the way he’s groaning at the sight of your nipples poking through the lacey bra. “No late night meetings. And I don’t want you alone with him.”

“Choso wouldn’t do anything.”

“Bullshit. He’s probably a bigger freak than I am.” Toji pinches and rolls your nipple in his free hand. “I should fuck you while you call him.”

“Toji,” You say warily. “I thought we talked about this: you know I love you. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Please, try to not let your temper get the best of you: I have a job to do and if you act up too much-”

“What?” Toji asks mockingly; he’s already pulling aside your soaked panties and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Come on, I’m dyin’ to know. Am I being a bad dog?”

You’re about to retort, but then Toji bends down, eyes locked on yours as he runs his tongue up your cheek with a slow, wet lick. You stare at him slightly taken aback but that turns into shock when Toji slams his cock into you all at once.

“Fuck!” Toji hisses. “So fucking tight…come on, tell me baby, tell me how you’ll punish me!”

But the second you open your mouth, Toji is thrusting; his hold around your wrists is painfully tight and he’s able to keep your thighs spread by pinning one down with his other hand. You cry out every time he slams into you, making the whole bed shake and the headboard slam against the wall. 

“Think he can fuck you this good? Huh? You think he could make this pussy cream like I can?” Toji huffs and puffs, not slowing down even as he lowers his head to suck and rolls his tongue around your nipples, one at a time, making them shiny and wet with spit. “Got me trained to only want to fuck this pussy now anyway.”

“Too much!” You whine as Toji lets your hands go only to hook your knees under each of his elbows. “Toji, so deep, it’s too deep!”

“But babyyyyy, I have to.” Toji groans almost as if he’s exasperated with your protests. “I gotta breed you.”

“Wha-what are you…?”

“Uh huh. Nice and deep, gonna make sure all my cum takes.” Toji kisses your forehead with a twisted grin. “I’m going to fill you up and make you a mommy now.”

“What?!” This is the most panicked he’s ever seen you. “I don’t want kids! I’m on birth control and-”

“They can only prevent so much. I’ll keep you tied up for a while,” Toji traces his fingers along your trembling lips. “I’ll keep cumming inside you, all night, every day, over and over. I’ll even destroy the pills if I have to.”

“No!”

“But I thought you loved me? It’s the only way I can think of keeping you…I mean, unless you were willing to do something else to make things a little more official?” Toji slows down his thrusts and looks down at you with a shit eating grin. “Ya know, something that shows other people you’re taken.”

“Something…?” You can barely breathe from exertion and confusion. “Official? Wait, are you saying you want us to get married?”

“Sounds fair enough, yeah? You already promised you would take care of me from now on.” Toji sighs and brushes hair out of your face. “Think of it this way, I get to put a ring around your finger ‘cause after all, you already put a collar around my neck.”

“You know, some people propose with a ring prepared and flowers, not threats of forcible impregnation.” Your voice is hardly more than a whisper. “Toji, I love you, you big idiot. If you wanted to, why not just ask me to marry you?”

“‘Kay, then…will you marry me?”

“I can get the papers ready tomorrow.” You ever so carefully put your hands on his shoulders lightly before moving in to hold him. “If that’s what it takes to put your mind at ease, consider me your wife. I’ve always considered you mine; honestly, do I have to collar and tag you to get it through your head? I have no plans to let you go, not unless you decide you want to leave.”

Toji chews on his lip as you hug him and give his neck butterfly kisses; suddenly he’s feeling anxious and tongue tied. Toji thought you might put up more of a fight: he knows what he is. He knows the disgusted looks thrown his way are warranted and he made peace with that years ago. If anything, it would be poetic justice for you to leave him high and dry, abandoning him without so much as a second thought. 

You have to stop this. You think you’re taming a stray and making him a house pet, but Toji knows exactly what he is. If you keep indulging him this way it won’t settle his mind; every day is already a battle to not do exactly as he said he was going to do, keep you restrained and locked away from the world. Fuck the money, fuck your work, fuck everything you want and everything Toji believed he wanted. To hell with it all. What’s one more selfish, cruel act? 

“Call him now.” Toji says suddenly, voice almost inaudible. “Call him and say you can’t make it because you forgot you had plans with your fiance.”

“Okay.” You nod. “But, um, I need to get my phone.”

“Actually, after we’re done.” Toji repositions your legs so they’re wrapped around his waist and his front is pressed flush against yours. “I still want to cum inside.”

“Okay, just be good.” You pet his hair, pushing his bangs off his face. “Can you be good for me, Toji? You were making me feel really good before; I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do it.”

Toji can’t keep his eyes off your face; he’s panting, a drop of drool slides past the corner of his mouth, running down his scarred lip as you moan underneath him. He’s touching you with less force, but now he’s focused on rubbing your breasts and clit in tandem while you squirm on his cock. You’re giving him a great show; he wishes he had his phone out to record you, a little something to keep him company during those long hours you’re gone.

“Gonna fuck my pretty wife. Gonna make her pussy a mess…” Toji inhales as you clench impossibly tight around him. “You like that? You like getting your pussy ruined by me?”

“Yes, yes, I want it!” You rock your hips, squealing as Toji latches his mouth onto your nipple and rubs your clit faster. “So good, feels so good getting fucked by my…my husband…ah, Toji!!!”

Toji looks up at you with wide eyes; you’re too lost in your orgasm to notice. With high pitched cries, your whole body shakes from the being touched in your most sensitive places at once. He can feel your slick run down his twitching cock; after a few seconds, you’ve calmed down enough to breathe properly and look down at him with a tired, loving smile. 

“Cum in me…it’s okay, I want it.”

Toji’s pupils are blown wide as he starts thrusting again, considerably slower, but with just as much force as before. He slows down the closer he gets to cumming, only to pick up the pace and hike your legs higher over his hips, then his shoulders. You can’t even scream now; all you can do is dig your nails into the sheets and let out the sweetest most adorable little kitten like mewls Toji has ever heard. He knows you’re tired and sore and need to rest soon, but part of him just doesn’t want to stop. 

“Baby, stay with me. Almost there, gonna cum so fucking hard.” 

Toji hisses as your hands grab his biceps, gets even harder at the way your nails dig into his skin; he’s slick with sweat and from the combination of your pussy dripping in his lap and what he’s pretty sure is his own precum steadily leaking with every slam of his hips.  

“Almost there, I need ya to, shit, just call me that again, come on baby, c’mon-”

“My…my husband.” You say with a shaky breath. “Want my husband to cum in me, please!”

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Toji shudders at the wet slapping with every time he thrusts, your desperate pleas tempting him to keep ravaging you until you’re passed out; he’s babbling now, voice hoarse and so loud it’s a wonder he can speak at all. “Yes, take it, just like that, take it all, gonna cum, take it all baby, fuck!”

“Good…good boy…”

With a long, low groan, Toji doubles over and has to struggle to not drop his entire body weight on you; he wants to see your pussy get filled first. 

It’s dripping. Past his aching cock, past your puffy pussy lips, Toji’s cum drips onto his balls, down to the sheets in a little puddle. He came so much, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could taste it or if he ended up breeding you by accident anyway. All the better for him.

“Mine.” Toji rasps, arms pulling you in close, even as you weakly protest at his sweat drenched body and the mess; he pays no mind, in fact, he looks almost delirious as he grins at you.  “Hey…since I was a good boy, do I get a treat?”

#jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #obsessed yandere #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #clingy yandere #tw yandere #soft yandere #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #pet pl@y #sugar baby!toji #sugar mommy #breeding k1nk

[reds-writings]

jealousy, jealousy!

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao

warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)

word count: around 5.8k

Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco. 

Just who the hell does he think he is?

The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.

It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.

You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now. 

Earlier in the day…

Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.

Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly. 

A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”

Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.” 

Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.” 

“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation. 

Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.” 

Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.

Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.

For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him. 

When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you. 

First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.

It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless. 

To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you. 

Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.  

After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.

Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.

Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.

You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good. 

Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”

 His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”

“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way. 

Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger. 

His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.    

On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.

“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.” 

You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.” 

“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night. 

And what a night it would be indeed. 

Night at the Blue Gator…

The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.

Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now. 

Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment. 

Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.

“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”

“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply. 

You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.” 

Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.” 

The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot. 

“I can dance with just about anybody.”

“That’s been made clear.”

“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”

“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.

“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm. 

“That ain’t-”

“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”

 Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,

“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’  stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist. 

“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,

“Oh come off it, Dex-”

“It’s Rex.”

“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest. 

“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”

“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.   

Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out. 

The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.

“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.

No answer.

“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.

“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places. 

“Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“You’re drunk-”

“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"

“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed. 

Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.

After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard. 

“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.” 

He remained silent for the rest of the way.

Back to the present…

Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time. 

'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise. 

“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”

“Listen-”

“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,

“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”

A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?” 

He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.

“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.” 

The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix. 

You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking. 

The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”

But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you. 

This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.

A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?

Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did. 

It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more. 

The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else. 

Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause. 

“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.” 

With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow, 

 “If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.” 

You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”

“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.    

 “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed. 

You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.

#rust cohle #rust cohle x reader #true detective #marty hart #true detective imagine #rust cohle imagine #true detective season 1 #matthew mcconaughey

[love-bitesx]

Hey, luv ur last Hobie writing it was so good! so like as a request (sorry if my wording is a bit awk ive never requested anything on tumblr b4😭) hobie x fem reader (or not gendered i dont mind) on like what it would be like putting Hobie on music as a reader that listens to a ton of genres and not mainly punk rock- like would he be open minded on it etc. and also what falling asleep w him with music in the background would be like and stuff. like a little one-shot on that (or hc’s!)

: ̗̀➛ OPEN-MINDED

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

gonna hug every anon/req ever i love u lot so much <3 this is kind of just a ranty headcanon one shot. thing. i think. we'll find out. i think im physically incapable of writing a short one shot, i just love this guy too much thank u for the req!!! love u also, this is strictly my headcanon and my opinion, if there's something canon that contradicts this, my apologies!! this is just a bit of fun :)

i think he'd be somewhat open-minded, but he'd have his strict no-nos. pop music being that, or anything on the radio, he tells you it's just propaganda from the 'system'. remember, this guy is an anarchist, plus so much more.

having grown up in england, london specifically, i think he'd be partial to uk hip hop, grime, garage, alt rock, alternative music, etc. anything that sparks a bit of controversy. anything from the streets, the people. plenty of those genres stem from rock'n'roll music anyway, so i wouldn't be surprised.

however.

you're laying in your room one night, it's dark outside, the night crawling in as a gentle breeze drifts through your open window. headphones plugged into your phone, you scrolled through a newly made playlist, brows furrowed in thought as you tried to remember anymore songs you wanted to add.

humming along to the tune echoing in the headset, you were absolutely zoned out. it wasn't until a large pair of hands grabbed your waist, did you crash back down to earth. ripping the headphones off your head, you jumped back in defense.

"what did i tell you about leaving your window open, y/n?" hobie scolded you, a playful smirk on his lips, standing up straight, looking down at you, "could've been any dickhead coming in here, y'know?"

"not just any dickhead can scale 7 floors and climb in through my window, hobie," you rolled your eyes, fixing the mess you made when you threw your headphones and phone on the bed.

"yeah," he leant down, until his face was but an inch from your own, "only the really bad ones can."

with that, and a devilish grin, he pressed his lips against yours, using his advantage to push you backwards onto the bed, climbing on, making himself comfortable on the mattress next to you, holding you close to him. your hands went to his chest, feeling it rise and fall under your touch.

"i missed you," he muttered between kisses, his piercing ice cold against your lips, sending chills down your spine.

"i missed you, too, hobie," you whispered back, welcoming his touch on your waist.

pulling back with a smirk, he reached for the phone in your hand, opening it up.

"what were you listening to so intensely?" he quizzed, but his question was instantly answered at the name of the playlist you had made.

for hobie

"oh."

to say he was stunned, was an understatement. this was new to him, no one had ever made him a specially made playlist before, no one had gone to the effort. his heart swelled. scrolling through, he saw an array of artists that he hadn't even heard of before, mixes of genres that he knew you loved.

"sorry, it's really silly," you dismissed, reaching for your phone at his blunt response, suddenly feeling a wave of insecurity.

his eyes snapped to yours, shocked at your reaction, "what? no, absolutely not."

though his stomach twisted slightly at the thought of listening to lana del rey? whoever that was, he wasn't sure, but the fact you listened to it, thought of him, and thought of him so much you made it into a playlist dedicated to him? well, he'd be an idiot to refuse that.

"i love it, darlin', thank you," his smile was soft, genuine, one you only see him give to you, which is why you loved it so dearly.

"baby, who's kendrick lamar?"

BONUS #1

it was a late night, you were exhausted from working all day, and the 7 staircase climb wasn't ideal, now that the elevator in your block had stopped working. dumping all your stuff in the living room, quickly throwing on some clothes from the dryer and a quick bathroom visit, you nudged open the door to your bedroom.

you knew hobie was crashing at yours, it was more rare when he wasn't.

what you didn't expect was the sound of mellow, soft music coming from inside. continuing quietly, you peered around the door to see your boyfriend, barely under the covers, sound asleep on your bed. eyes scanning the room, you saw his phone, open on the mattress beside him.

silently stepping over, your heart melted at what you saw on his phone screen. the playlist you had made him, shuffled, playing through the speakers on his phone.

chest warm and full of adoration for this man, you leant down to place a kiss on his temple, smiling at the way his body reacted to your touch.

he was an angel, of sorts.

BONUS #2

though you complained about it at first, hobie would definitely need music to fall asleep to. sometimes he was so tired that the second his head hit the pillows and his arms wrapped themselves around you, he was asleep. but mainly, he played music from the speakers in either of your rooms.

the only issue with this, however, is that his music was never stereotypical sleeping music.

whilst only on a low volume, just something to keep his mind from fuzzing too much as he tried to sleep, you weren't a stranger to falling asleep to the likes of ramones, dead kennedys, motörhead, sex pistols, etc.

he loved you for it though, beyond grateful with your patience with him.

a/n: golly gosh i love this man so much

#hobie #atsv hobie #hobie brown #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #anon #i love anons #reqs open #reqs

[sweetracha]

Choose a Flavor

There are two versions of this story based on what experience you want to have. Will you be a good girl or a brat?

Flavor Selected: Brat

Sugar Content: Spicy Sweet (SMUT!)

Allergy Warning: Hard Dom Chan, Titles (Master and Daddy), Pet Names (Bunny, Baby, Doll, Etc), Dumb is used, Spanking, Denial, Overstim, Begging, Pet Play? (Name and Outfit more than Roleplay), Illusions to aftercare

Here you are now standing in his playroom. It was perfect, everything you could have dreamed of and more. You had seen it once before when you were going over consent contracts. Chris wanted to make sure you felt comfortable in this space. He made love to you in the black silk bed that sat on the middle wall. He was so sweet, soft, and sensual in those moments. You wondered how he could ever be a dom.

Trying to drown out your busy mind you took in the sights. Christopher, or Bang Chan as you learned was his dom persona, had an eye for detail. The room was decorated with leather and silk, reminding you of the silk piece he had you wear tonight. Red lights colored the corners tastefully. Paddles and other impact gear were organized along the walls. Ropes were twisted neatly on the bedframe. A wand and some other toys were charging on the black wood nightstand. Finally, you took in the scent of the room. Sharp whiskey and leather filled your senses, a perfect match to Chan’s cologne. Being so lost in the art of it all, you didn’t hear the door close or footsteps behind you.

“Hello little bunny” Chris welcomed as he slide up behind you, gently wrapping a hand around your throat. “Are you ready to play little one?” you nodded in response.

“Words honey, don’t be a brat now” his grip tightened. 

“Yes Master” you meekly replied

“Good girl, here is how tonight is going to go. Every question I ask will be responded to verbally, Every order I give will be followed, and every word I say will be heard. Do this little bunny and Daddy will reward you greatly. If you fail to listen to me, however, you will be punished” His hand around your neck pulled you in close as he leaned into your ear and whispered “Hard”.

Tonight you were left with two choices. Be the good girl your dom wants you to be or have your fun and be a brat. Rewards or punishments were the ultimate questions. 

You picked to be a brat tonight

Chan spun you around so you were facing him, it didn’t matter if he had a shorter stature. Right now he towered over you. Leather-gloved hands came up to fix your pretty white bunny ears on top of your head. Christopher cooed at how innocent you looked in the dark space. He was going to have fun with you. Those same rough leather hands tilted your chin up to stare into his intense eyes.

“What are your safe words bunny?” You knew this was an important question to establish an answer but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop…just like a traffic light” You rolled your eyes. “I thought even a soft dom like you would have known that.

You could see a fire in his eyes, he knew your games. His gentle hand became hash on your cheeks as he held your face. He lowered down to your level and got real close.

“Watch your tone brat, I won't repeat myself. Now what is my name tonight”

“Christopher but I guess because we are playing make-believe you are ‘Bang Chan’. How did you come up with such a clique porn name anyways” you mocked. The hand not occupying your face slithered to your roots. With a handful of hair, he yanked you back. Chris didn’t miss the way your eyes rolled as you let out a grunting moan.

“Fucking brat. Should have known you'd never be a good girl. But you know what princess? I know exactly how to tame you. At the end of the day, I know you just want to be my dumb little pet bunny.” He let go of your hair and made his way to the bed. The way he sat down on the edge made you realize just how massive his thighs were, if it was any other day you'd beg him to let you ride but not tonight.

“Come lay over daddy’s lap baby” he patted his slack-covered thigh.

“Oh what are you going to do, is the big daddy going to span–AH” You were cut off by Chan yanking you over his lap. Toes barely touched the wooden floor.

“Yes princess, master is going to do just that. He is going to spank your bratty little ass until it is bright red. I won’t make you count tonight, Im not sure your dumb little bunny mind can count that high” You were royally fucked and couldn’t have been more excited.

His first swat was light, almost to test the waters. When you didn’t show any signs of discomfort he swung again, harder. He continued his assault on your bum until you were wiggling in his lap. Moans were mixed with whines and huffs of air. He could get used to this.

“Look at these poor panties and babydoll daddy bought you, baby, they are getting ruined. Better take them off. Stand up. Now”

“No”

“Bunny, I suggest you turn around and face the wall right now and strip. I was going to let you off with only a few more but I see I need to teach you some manners, don't make this worse than it already will be”

You decided to do what he said for once tonight. Something about the venom that dripped from his words scared you a little. That familiar sub-fuzz began to overtake you. As you began to strip the silk babydoll gown you heard Chris moving in the background. He grabbed a few things and took his spot back on the bed. Like a king claiming his throne. 

“Back over my thigh princess, Im not done with you” This time you draped yourself over him.

He warmed up your now naked bottom which was already glowing a nice shade of red. Out of nowhere, he swung again. You could tell he was using his full force now. 

“I can’t believe you decided to be so disobedient tonight. I had so much planned for you but no, you had to be a brat. Now Daddy has to teach you how to be a good girl for him” he paused the rain of smacks to feel between your legs. “Awwww baby girl, so desperate now arent we” you moaned when he began to circle your clit. “So wet baby, probably being such a little brat because you were so uncomfortable” his digits now began to pump inside of you slowly. It wasn't enough to make you cum but it did keep you on edge. You whined and rutted your hips back in desperation. “Awwww shhhhh poor baby, I'm not done with you yet” and like that, he pulled out and spanked you with the same hand that pleasured you. He continued until you finally admitted defeat.

“Ouch, Daddy Im sorry! Please I'll be a good girl just please let me cum! I need you. I need master to touch me” You slumped in submission. Chan plunged his fingers back into your cunt and set a brutal pace. Moans and yells escaped your lungs are you were thrust into pure unimaginable pleasure. Just as Christopher felt you clench…

“Ask for it” he slowed down.

“What! Please No”

“Ask for permission to come babydoll”

“Please Master can I cum. PLEASE” you begged like your life was on the line.

“Fucking Cum” and with that you did. You spasmed on his lap as he finished you off. While he was still punishing you he wasn’t going to be too cruel. He helped you down from your high and gently laid you on the bed.

“Bunny, you took Daddy’s punishment so well. You did such a good job, Master is very proud. But it isn't quite done. Im going to wreck your sensitive little body one last time and you are going to take it” again with the faux comfort he was so good at. Just as you were going to get ready for him, he flipped you around.

“Oh, I forgot to mention. No looking at or touching Daddy. You are going to remain arched on all fours as I ruin you. And because I know my dumb little bunny can't follow any rules, Master will tie your wrists to the bed to help you” and he did just that. Black and white ropes were wrapped around your wrists and secured you to the bend. His leather hand slid down your back with pressure forcing you to arch. Then he slammed into you. He was done with teasing, done with making you beg, done with waiting. He needed his own pleasure. Chan was going to be selfish with your body. You were his after all, right?

He set an unrelenting pace that was backed by hard thrusts. Imediabity he found your g-spot and when you screamed out in pleasure he abused it with his tip. Too lost in how amazing you feel, Chan didn’t say much. The room was filled with moans, pants, grunts, and the occasional swear word. It wasn’t until you spoke up did he come back to reality.

“Can I come, Master?” Finally, you were being his sweet obedient girl.

“Yes bunny, come for Daddy” He followed his approval with long drawn out powerful thrusts, the kind he knew you liked. As you clamped down on him hard and came with a scream he filled you up. A howl-like moan left him and he emptied inside of you. Your poor body leaked from him. With two fingers we scooped his cum up and pushed it back inside you, mesmerized by the sight.

“Shhhhhh baby it's okay, we wouldn’t want to waste a drop now would we” he cooed with genuine care this time.

“No Daddy we wouldn’t,” you said with a sex-drunk giggle which eased his worries about being too hard on you.

“It’s okay now little one, I'm just Christopher right now bun” 

“Channie?” you slightly sat up with a sweet questioning expression on your face. He was going to marry you someday.

“Yes princess, Channie is here. Let's get you into a bath baby girl.”

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#stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut

[airbendertendou]

I MISS THE WAY YOU SAY MY NAME! [the way you bend ; the way you break] ♡ murayama yoshiki

synopsis ; running into your ex seems to set off a chain of events — ones he could have prevented.

cw : darker content than usual! kidnapping [not by yama] , yakuza boss!murayama , manipulation , mind-break , probably not as good as you're hoping </3 , exes to lovers if you squint

dedicated to @straysugzhpe happiest of birthdays, bestie! ♡ released this later than i wanted to but i digress <3

song inspo ; the death of peace of mind by bad omens

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

The streets of SWORD weren’t new to you. They were where you grew up ; where you met your first love and he broke your heart. Not purposely, you think ; he told you long distance wouldn’t work, wouldn’t keep you as connected as he needed to be.

Your friends told you it was a bad relationship anyways ; a toxic, nasty thing you were lucky didn’t fester into more. But, you didn’t believe that. Sure, he was protective and always made sure to have one hand holding you at all times. He was never afraid to get bloody hands and bruised knuckles just for you. It was innocent — sweet and reassuring to your pre-adolescent mind. 

Letting out a sigh, you twist and turn in the mirror. The outfit you’d chosen was snug, but still comfortable enough to move in. Taking a break from school would be fun — relaxing. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Coming back to your hometown of SWORD would be fine — there would be a slim chance anyone you grew up with stayed, anyways.

Taking in a deep breath, you shut and lock your door, heading to the Daruma district. The Rascals district was a bit too far from your hotel for your comfort, so you stayed close by. The bass in the club was booming when you arrived, nodding your head to the beat absentmindedly as you were welcomed in. 

Eyes were cemented into you as soon as you stepped through the door. Sliding down your figure and focusing on the curves of your body as you drifted through the club’s crowd. You ignore the stares, moving to the bar to grab a drink to calm your nerves. 

Looking around the club as the bartender made your drink, you frown. This place felt unfamiliar — new ; changed. The decor was modern ; songs playing overhead none you knew ; the people surrounding you even seemed different. Coming back to your hometown was supposed to bring fond memories to the forefront of your mind, not confusing emotions swirled with anxiety. 

Something about the club seemed dangerous. A dark cloud leering over as shady glances are exchanged and people are led to a more private area. The music was too loud to start a conversation, let alone overhear anything you weren’t meant to. 

You were starting to regret this — only a little bit. 

As your drink is slid over, you take a hefty gulp. Only to choke when your eyes connect with a pair you knew too well. Murayama Yoshiki is staring your way, a cigarette perched between his lips as he ignores the people talking to him. When your eyes meet, he tilts his head as if daring you to make your way over. 

You do the opposite ; spinning to face the bar as you down your drink. 

It’s not long before Murayama is sliding in beside you, elbow leaning on the bar as he gazes at you. You avoid his eyes, staring down at your cup and following its condensation trail with your finger. He hums, “you’re back.” 

“Just visiting.” You correct him. Glancing his way, you see his eyes are still wide and pretty as they stare longingly your way. You clear your throat, “I didn’t think you’d still be in town.”

A secret tilts up the right side of his mouth, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Yeah. It wouldn’t be SWORD without a leader.”

“And that leader is you?”

“Who else?” Murayama snorts again — demeaning, it sounds — before knocking back his own drink. He motions to your empty glass before nodding at the bartender for a refill. As the worker gets busy, Murayama focuses his sights back on you — his gaze makes you tremble ; weak the way it had years before. “You jus’ in town to visit? That’s all ; nothin’ else?”

You lick your lips, smiling to the bartender when your new drink is slid your way. “What else would I come back for?”

A harsh, scoff-like laugh leaves his lips. Murayama repeats your question sarcastically, nodding to himself. He sips his drink, looking at you one more time before tapping the bar and standing. “If that’s all, then…”

Just like years before, he was gone without another thought.

Maybe you’d been a little harsher than intended. Seeing your ex again had been a shock, but maybe— no. This is exactly what your friends had told you. He has a way of getting into your head, [name]. You always end up going back.

You twirl your finger around the rim of your glass, frowning as your thoughts overcrowded the music. Was going back such a bad thing, after all? You were happy with Murayama — on the cusp of being in love. He was convinced the distance wouldn’t work — that you’d forget him and find someone better. 

You never did — you never would. 

Gulping back the rest of your drink, you pay and stand to leave. Curls of dark hair catch your attention and solidify your decision. Stalking after Murayama, you struggle to catch up to him with the crowd. The air is brisk and cold as the club’s door opens for you, taking your breath momentarily until you hear his laugh.

Just before you can tap his shoulder, your mouth is covered and everything goes dark.

——♡——

Your hands are tied behind your back, lips taped shut as you gain consciousness. Heaving in a breath through your nose, you blink a few times before realizing you don’t know where you are ; before remembering what happened. Panic crawls up your throat, coming out as whines against the tape. You struggle with the ropes binding you, your wrists growing raw and sore from the material.

The room you’re in is small, no sign of any windows and only a single door. There’s nothing but a lightbulb that hangs above you, illuminating the small area. 

A creak echoes in the room, the door opening slowly to reveal… nothing. No one was standing there. Heaving in a breath in attempt to control your panic, you tug on the ropes a few more times before stopping. Footsteps hit your ears next, tantalizingly slow as they approach the room you’re in. 

A mask — there’s a cracked, porcelain faced mask facing you. You inch back quickly, your back hitting the wall too quick for your liking. They inch closer to you slowly, crouching down when they finally get to where they want to be. Your lip trembles underneath the tape, tears filling up your lashline and dripping down your cheeks.

The masked person wipes them softly before standing and leaving abruptly. 

No windows ; no telling what time or day it was. The person would only come by once, forcing stale bread in your mouth and tipping hot water into your mouth soon after. You always choked on it, the water dribbling down your chin and to your torso, leaving a trail of hot water in its wake. On their fourth visit, they went as far to tug on the rope binding your hands, tutting sarcastically as if they felt sorry for your situation. 

The hotel you were staying in had to have given your room away by now. Your hands were sore, cuticles ripped and bloody from your attempts at leaving. Sniffling, you could feel your face burn with the tears that had made their own tracks on your cheeks. Your mouth was free from the tape now, but still felt chapped and raw.

You hadn’t said a word ; you didn’t dare to.

And then the door slammed open uncharacteristically. You flinched at the noise, eyes staying on the floor to avoid looking at the cracked mask. Heaving breaths echo around the room, stomping feet paralleling the sound as your kidnapper approaches you. Hands grip your upper arms in a tight, bruising hold as they lift you from your sitting position. They’re muttering to themselves, words you don’t bother to hear.

You get to what seems to be a sitting room, the tv playing a missing persons ad of you. Someone knew — they knew you were gone and they were trying to find you. Hope swelled in your chest briefly before dropping. What are the chances they’d find you ; the chances you’d go home alive?

You’re suddenly dropped to the floor as multiple footsteps head your way. The porcelain mask falls to the ground, only a vivid thunk, thunk, thunk! sound hitting the air around you. It stops soon — only after a crunch is heard. Your cheeks are being held by calloused, bloody hands as a voice begs you to focus. You can’t look away ; can only watch as the mask cracks even more.

“Look at me, baby,” it sounds like a whisper. Thumbs tap under your eyes, the hands shake your head gently in order to grab your attention. “It’s me, [name]. Look at me, jus’ me.”

Murayama’s face is the first thing you see. It’s the first thing that greets you outside of a swinging lightbulb ; outside of a porcelain mask ; outside of that dingy, dark room. He rubs your cheeks once more, the stranger’s blood smearing over your tears. “Come back to me, baby.”

“You found me.”

He wants to sob at the sound of your voice. It sounds so broken and cracked ; your voice fighting a whisper and climbing up your throat desperately. There’s a dazed look in your eyes that’s familiar to him ; one you’d get when overwhelmed. 

Your hands are untied — they fall to the ground lifelessly as you continue to stare at Murayama. He gulps, hands dropping from your face to lace through your fingers. “Of course I found you. Told you I would.”

“When we broke up,” you lick your lips. There were people in suits streaming past you both ; hushed and loud conversations passing by non-listening ears. Murayama nods, a soft smile on his face as his thumbs brush your knuckles. “You said we’d get back together when the time is right. I remember.”

“Time’s always been right.” It’s hushed, pressed against your forehead as he helps you stand. Numerous people in suits — the FBI, maybe? — allow you both to pass as if you don’t exist. It’s nighttime as you’re led out of the building you were held in, the sky dark and air cold. Murayama crouches between your legs as he makes you sit. A lady takes your temperature and assesses you medically — but your attention is centered on him. He looks down at your intertwined hands, “jus’ let you have a li’l fun first. That’s all.”

You don’t respond. Eyes fluttering, Murayama pulls you to his chest gently, patting the back of your head. “Rest,” he whispers against the night air. “Rest now, you’re safe with me.”

When you wake up, you’re pressed to a cloud-like bed, the scent of Murayama surrounding you. You groan, your throat still sore as you struggle to swallow. A hand guides you to sit, tenderly rubbing your back as you settle. Blinking to your left, a grinning Murayama greets you. “Mornin’, baby. Got some water here for you,” he helps you hold the glass as you take tentative sips. “Breakfast should be on its way soon.”

“Where am I?”

“My place.” He looks around the room as if it’s brand new to him, too. Clearing his throat, Murayama holds your hand in his. “Need’a let you heal for a while, hm?”

You lick your lips again, feeling a little more awake than you were before. You feel more present ; aware as his hands linger and brush around places bruises had been left. “When can I go home?”

“You are home, baby,” he chuckles. Murayama brings your hand up, kissing your knuckles before resting the back of it against his cheek. “I’ll take care of you now, keep you safe.”

“I need to go home, Yoshiki.”

He lets out another laugh — this one sounds cruel ; judgemental as he shakes his head. “This is home.” His eyelashes slide up as he finally meets your eyes with that darkened gaze you’d grown accustomed to. “Jus’ got you back. I’m not lettin’ you leave again.”

You’re pulled to his chest as every other thought leaves your mind. He was right, after all. Murayama was the one to find you — the one who took you from your kidnapper and kept you safe. Snuggling close to his chest, you fight off the hazy, blurred memories of being in that room.

“Okay,” you breathe. A barely there peck is placed on the center of his chest, right beside his heart. You move your face to his neck, arms wrapping around his torso. “I’ll stay here.”

Murayama grins. His plan worked after all, hm? As soon as he spotted you in the club, he knew you’d be coming home to him, one way or another. Hiring a lowly new guy to take you was easy — he did his job well, even if it ended in his death. But, it was all worth it in the end. You were back with him — back where you belonged.

You’re squished closer to his body with a hum. Murayama kisses the top of your head, “‘course you will. You’ll be safe now, [name]. I’ll make sure of it.”

——♡—— tagging my other h&l babies here! @star2fishmeg @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy if youd like to b tagged / untagged, let me know! ♡ airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#the amount of gifs i went through of him before settling on this one…… #i am : unwell <3 #murayama yoshiki #oya high #high&low the worst #high & low #high & low x reader #high&low x reader #high&low oneshots #high&low imagines #murayama yoshiki x y/n #murayama yoshiki drabbles #murayama yoshiki x reader #yakuza!murayama #yandere!high&low

[wttf-if]

Welcome To The Family

trigger warning(s): 18+ age rating, depictions of violence, gore, strong language, odd circumstances that is beyond anyone's control, sexual themes, death, and mature themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

If you're going to be honest, this wasn't your first choice.

Deep, deep in the forest of Idovale lies a mysterious mansion that houses the (in)famous family: The Varias Family. There were rumors of them to be bloodsuckers, witches, warlocks, psychics, or even creatures that lies beyond human comprehension. You're not normally someone who believes in the supernatural, but hearing the rumors that surround them would make anyone antsy.

You, a recent freshman that was admitted into Idovale University, weren't exactly strapped with cash. That, and they were renting out a room in their mansion at a very low, low price. You needed a room quickly, and so you venture your way to the family's mansion.

Upon meeting the family and living there for a few months, you're starting to think the rumors were...true. You think. You think they're true. They're still a huge mystery. But, nevertheless, they make your life, in a sense, very interesting.

But strange things are happening in the town of Idovale, and it's causing a stir. A strange murder that stars a corpse surrounded by flowers, a cold case that involved the Varias Family returns, and you're the one solving the murder.

Seriously, what the hell.

Welcome To The Family is an interactive-fiction novel influenced by The Addams Family, Kuroshitsuji (aka: Black Butler), etc., about family relationships, mystery, and intrigue. This will be made in Twine.

Welcome To The Family includes:

-Play as a broke college student that becomes involved with the Varias Family, a dynamic, twisted family that's to die for!

-Pursue a romance with the two family members of the Varias Family, the family butler, a retired detective, an old serial killer, or a mystery, romantic option! However, if you wish to pursue/continue with a platonic relationship, that option is also there as well!

-Have a wide, range of options to choose from for your character creation!

-Interchangeable POV’s between characters!

-Solve a murder. No, really. You're solving a murder.

-Something is happening in the town of Idovale...

"I can feel my heart melting when I'm near you, burning me from the inside as my body demands a release to free itself from this hellish pain. I don't particularly mind it."

Irina Varias (she/her, 23); One of the romantic options, she's the elder sister of Valentin Varias. She's cold, blunt, and mysteriously murderous at times, but she carries a dark humor that's followed by a sadistic, dark smile. She conducts herself as gracefully as her mother, but it makes you wonder what she's like when her walls are down.

Appearance: Black hair tied into medium-sized, wavy pigtails that hangs on the sides of her head. Her bangs just stops above her eyes. Her eyes are a dark, dark shade of black. She tends to wear a black dress-shirt with a long, black skirt that reaches her ankles. She wears black flats with white tights. She wears silver studded earrings and black gloves. She has porcelain skin, and her height is 5'8''.

"I love you! I really do! See, the bats from the attic are spelling out the words out for me! Huh? 'It says 'I loathe you' instead'? ARRRRGHH, IRINA! QUIT MESSING WITH MY AFFAIRS!"

Valentin Varias (he/him, 22): One of the romantic options, he's the younger brother of Irina. He's the opposite of Irina; bright, bubbly, and extremely demented/deranged. He conducts himself as intuitive as his father, and he would proudly hug his family members...while trying to kill them. Especially his sister.

Appearance: Black hair that's short and slightly spiky at the back, the sides of his hair are long, braided pigtails with white ribbons. His bangs just stops above his eyes. His eyes are also a dark, dark shade of black. He tends to wear a white, dress-shirt with a black vest and a black ribbon with white lines around his neck. He carries a black belt with packs, filled with items of massive destruction, weapons, and snacks. He wears black gloves and black slip-on shoes. He has porcelain skin, and his height is 5'6''.

"Do you...do you truly love me? A monster such as myself?"

Nicolae Dimir (he/him, 28); One of the romantic options, he's the family butler of the Varias Family. He's a gigantic man who intimidated you greatly with his deep voice, but he's in actuality, a huge softie. He loves gardening, he loves to read, and he loves to care for the Varias Family, who graciously took him in when he had no-one else. You do, however, wonder why it is he calls himself a monster.

Appearance: Long, white locks of hair that reaches his lower back. His bangs wisps around his head, but stops right above his eyes. His eyes are hazel-colored, but it turns into a beautiful, golden color when the light hits it. He wears a pair of black glasses. He wears a three-piece butler suit with white gloves. He has almond skin, and his height is 6'4''.

"Seriously, why the hell am I getting dragged into this? Just because I owe Adrian, does NOT mean I should--ah, what the hell. If I fight a frickin' sea monster again, I'm making Adrian pay for our dinner. C'mon kid, there's a mystery to solve."

Ash/Ashlyn Blackmore (he/him, she/her, they/them, 45); One of the romantic options, they're a retired detective that's old friends with the head of the Varias Family, Adrian Varias. They're grumpy, swore off of cigarettes for chocolate pocky, and they're loyal to a fault. Despite how they conduct themselves to others, they're an old, but well-known detective that used to live in Idovale. You wonder why it is that they'll offer to help, but not be the one to solve this case?

Appearance (Male): Has russet, red-brown hair tied back into a high ponytail. His bangs stops at his chin, with one of his eyes covered. His eyes are a shade of light violet. He tends to wear a white, dress-shirt with a loose, black tie and black slacks with black dress-shoes. He wears a large, black overcoat with fur around the hoodie. He has warm beige skin, and his height is 6'0''.

Appearance (Female): Has russet, red-brown hair tied back into a high ponytail. Her bangs stops at her chin, with one of her eyes covered. She has rounder features, compared to her male counterpart, who has chiseled features. Her eyes are a shade of light violet. She tends to wear a white, dress-shirt with a loose, black ribbon and a black, long skirt with a slit on the side. She wears black, high-heels. She wears a large, black overcoat with fur around the hoodie. She has warm beige skin, and her height is 5'6''.

Appearance (Non-Binary): Has russet, red-brown hair tied back into a high ponytail. Their bangs stops at their chin, with one of their eyes covered. Their eyes are a shade of light violet. They tend to wear a white, dress-shirt with ruffles around the collar area, and black slacks with black dress-shoes. They wear a large, black overcoat with fur around the hoodie. They have warm beige skin, and their height is 5'8''.

“You neeeee~d me to solve this case, my fair boss! So, why not listen to me? We ARE supposed to be a consulting with one another, are we not? Shall we discuss about our love affair, or shall we discuss about the body that's been laying there?”

Luca/Luna/Li Roman (he/him, she/her, they/them, 33); One of the romantic options, they're an old serial killer that was once nicknamed, 'The Moon's Marionette'. Whimsical, unpredictable, and deeply amused, they were the first to be suspected...until they weren't. Now, they're serving as your apprentice, in exchange for their death sentence to be lifted. They seem to have familiarity with the Varias Family.

Appearance (Male): Has long, messy black hair that reaches his shoulder-blades, the ends are dyed a deep violet. His bangs stop right above his eyes and frames his face, the tips dyed in a deep violet. His eyes are heterochromia, his right-eye being silver with his left-eye being gold, and he has bags under his eyes. In prison, he wears a customized prison outfit; a white and black-striped long-sleeve with frayed ends, black, tight jeans and he's barefooted. Once he's out, he wears a black, business suit with a white, dress-shirt and a tie with black, dress shoes. He has pale skin, and his height is 5'9''.

Appearance (Female): Has long, messy black hair that reaches shoulder-blades, the ends are dyed a deep violet. Her bangs stop right above her eyes and frames her face, the tips dyed in a deep violet. Her features are a bit rounder. Her eyes are heterochromia, her right-eye being silver with her left-eye being gold, and she has bags under her eyes. In prison, she wears a customized prison outfit; a white and black-striped long-sleeve with frayed ends, a long, black skirt that reaches her ankles and she's barefooted. Once she's out, she wears a black, business suit with a white, dress-shirt and a ribbon with black, dress shoes. She has pale skin, and her height is 5'6''.

Appearance (Non-Binary): Has long, messy black hair that reaches their lower back, the ends are dyed a deep violet. Their bangs stop right above their eyes and frame their face, the tips dyed in a deep violet. Their eyes are heterochromia, their right-eye being silver with their left-eye being gold, and they have bags under their eyes. In prison, they wear a customized prison outfit; a white and black-striped long-sleeve with frayed ends, black, tight jeans with a long, black skirt over it and they're barefooted. Once they're out, they wears a black, business suit with a white, dress-shirt with black, dress shoes. They have pale skin, and their height is 5'7''.

"To choose me is a terrible idea. But much like the others, you don't really seem to care, do you? Disgusting."

They have eyes, ears, and can be anywhere. Really, they're a horrible option. But does that deter you? Absolutely not.

Adrian Varias (he/him, 46): The head of the Varias Family, he's the husband of the beautiful, Rozalia Varias. His shenanigans makes your head dizzy, and he's already enlisting you as a part of his family.

Rozalia Varias (she/her, 44): The wife of Adrian Varias. She is often the one who calms Adrian's antics down, and is considered to be a very, beautiful woman. She is also enlisting you as a part of her family, so really, there's no huge difference between the two. You think.

Claude Varias (he/him, 44): The brother of Adrian, he's a jolly, nonsensical man who enjoys your company. A 'breath of fresh dust', is what he said. You don't really understand him, but he often brings you gifts. He has a beautiful husband and two children.

Isabela Varias (she/her, 43): The sister of Rozalia, she's the obligatory 'wine aunt' and often visits to see how the 'most normal of the Varias' is doing, aka: You. She sometimes makes a off-handed comment about how you should visit her, but you can tell she really does want you to visit her villa.

Augustine Varias (they/them, 20): The cousin of Irina and Valentin, they're a member of the extended family of the Varias Family that doesn't live in Idovale. They often come to check in with the family, and they're always accompanied by their snakes. They find you fascinating.

Mimi and Sisi Varias (she/her, 12 & 13): The cousins of Irina and Valentin, they're the twin daughters of Claude Varias. They remind you of another set of twins that stands at the end of hallways, but it's best not to dwell on it.

Valerica Varias (she/her, [REDACTED AGE]): The mother of Adrian Varias, she's an old witch that embodies the sense of a true, Varias member. She finds your company enjoyable, and often asks you to join in on her little extortion with others. Yes, you heard that correctly.

The pets...it's best not to dwell on them.

More characters will be added in soon.

Demo: TBA

#interactive fiction #twine game #cyoa #indie game #interactive novel #twine #dev log #if game #if wip #twine wip #twine if #wttf #wttf if

[moonlightequin1]

♡ Welcome to my Tumblr Page ♡

‼️ BYF (Before you follow):

- My account is NOT a spoiler free zone! I will reblog and post things that are up-to-date with the main story which means I will not refrain from posting/reblogging Book 7 spoilers!

- I am a huge Ramshackle, Heartshackle, Diasomnia, and Crowley enthusiast, so I won't really be interacting with accounts hate on them. Don't worry, I will respect your opinions about these characters. We all have our preferences.

- I am mainly yuu/prefect multishipper and twst OCxCanon shipper! So if that's not what you are into, then it's best to avoid my page.

- I am NOT comfortable with Malleus X Lilia or Silver X Lilia content. So if you ship one of those ships (or perhaps both), please don't interact with me! I am not comfortable seeing these dynamics in any romantic sense at all.

👀 Information about me:

♡ my pronouns are she/her (but I don't mind they/them)

♡ I'm a HUGE TWST theorist! Most of my posts and reblogs will probably be mainly on the theory side of TWST!

♡ I am also an artist and OC content creator, but I usually post about my OCs on Twitter.

♡ interests/fandoms: Twisted Wonderland (main), Disney, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Nier Automata, Vocaloid, Gundam Wing, Cafe Enchante, Our Life: Beginning & Always, Our Life: Now & Forever, Ghibli, horror games, dating sims, otome games, interactive fiction, romantasy books, etc!

♡ Favourite TWST pairings: Adeuyuu, Silyuu, Malleyuu, Rolloyuu, Sebeyuu, Rookyuu, Vilyuu, Azuyuu, most Yuu pairings in general, Lilinor, LiliNorVan

♡ My favourite TWST theories/HCs: Trey and Sebek are cousins (HC/THEORY), Crowley is Levan (THEORY), Rook is twisted and based on Robin Hood (THEORY)

♡ Personal Tags: #just ray ~ reblog (for reblogs), #just ray ~ rambles (for ramblings), #just ray ~ art (for my artworks), #just ray ~ ocs (for my OCs), #just ray ~ theory pit (for theories), #just ray ~ edits (for edits)

Twisted Wonderland Theory/Analysis Masterlist (mostly from Twitter):

🌹 Heartslabyul

Deuce is the exception in the Prologue (Crowley, Ace, and Grim are also odd)

🦁 Savanaclaw

Someone died in the Afterglow Savannah kingdom...?

Leona's sleeping talent may possibly be used in Book 7

Leona and Idia's plausible importance/involvement in Book 7

🌊 Octavinelle

Azul has Tiana motifs

🐍 Scarabia

Kalim's Ceremonial Robes

👑 Pomefiore

Rook is a Beastman

Rook and Rapunzel (Crack Theory)

Dire Crowley's theme is nearly in sync with Pomefiore's Overblot OST

Meleanor's Lullaby and Pomefiore's dorm OST having the same ending notes

💀 Ignihyde

The Isles of Grief basis is Atlantis

Leona and Idia's plausible importance/involvement in Book 7

🐉 Diasomnia

Silver and Crowley

Briar Valley Tangled Festival...?

Sebek and Trey are relatives....

Lilia's necklace merch having possible symbolisms...?

Grim and Sebek's similarities/connection

Thread on Silver and Yuu's similarities and parallels

Grim, Malleus, and the Neverbeast

Malleus and Crowley parallels

Malleus and Crowley parallels (again)

Meleanor's Lullaby and Pomefiore's dorm OST having the same ending notes

🏚️ Ramshackle

The possible reason Mickey is forgotten or not recognized in Twisted Wonderland AND Ramshackle's dorm spirit... (PT.1)

What we know about Grim's lore (THREAD)

Grim and Sebek's similarities/connection

Thread on Silver and Yuu's similarities and parallels

Grim, Malleus, and the Neverbeast

Grim and Pete the Cat

Grim's connection to the Dwarfs

Yuu (the Prefect) is dead in their original world

Grim and the Chimera

Yuu and The Black Cauldron

Deuce is the exception in the Prologue (Crowley, Ace, and Grim are also odd)

🐦‍⬛🗝️ NRC

Crowley, the Dark Mirror, and the Briar Valley soldiers

Crowley and the 8th coffin (theory notes)

Dire Crowley is unkind...?

Did Crowley lose a companion...?

The NRC Faculty might play a bigger role than we think but Crewel is the odd one out

Malleus and Crowley Parallels

Dire Crowley's theme is nearly in sync with Pomefiore's Overblot OST

Deuce is the exception in the Prologue (Crowley, Ace, and Grim are also odd)

The Magic Mirror

How the Darkness and Blot work together & other considerations (A re-evaluation of my previous theories)

⭐ RSA

RSA and NRC's rivalry is secretly the Silver Owls VS Briar Valleys...?

Do RSA students see in black and white?

🪞 TWISTED WONDERLAND

What if the Heroes were punished to become the Villains as an act of revenge?

#just ray ~ intro #twisted wonderland masterlist #twst theories

[plus-i-miss-you]

"𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑠?"

(layout by @/ameyumez!)

hi hi!! welcome to my milgram x reader blog!! ik milgram is probably not the best media for x reader content but eh i'm doing this for fun 👍

🧡 about me:

♡ lina

♡ 21 y/o

♡ demigirl + any pronouns

♡ my other fandoms are twisted wonderland, project sekai, vocaloid, honkai star rail, genshin impact, fragaria memories and many others

♡ my favorite characters are yuno, mahiru and amane + i also like haruka and muu

♡ i prefer to use lowercase letters most of the time because uh.. i hate capitalism

♡ i also have some other blogs you can check out below!

please read this before you request:

🧡 rules:

♡ because of the nature of the project, please remember that literally anything can easily get confirmed or turn out to be wrong, so i can't say that my writing will be 100% in character.

♡ please specify whether you want the reader to be the guard or the prisoner and their gender, otherwise i'll go with gn!reader.

♡ same goes for the setting, if your request doesn't mention it, please specify whether you want it to take place in a prison or a non-prison au/casual setting.

♡ my character limit is four characters per request, but i can write more when it comes to self-indulgent stuff or events (if there will be any djkdlssld).

♡ mentioning whether you want it to be the t1/t2 version of the prisoner would also help a lot!

♡ i'm a system myself, so i'll try my best to write mikosys as accurately as possible, but i'm a newly discovered system, so i can still make some mistakes.

♡ speaking of mikosys, if you're requesting something for them and your request doesn't mention it, please specify if you're asking for mikoto or john/orekoto.

♡ also, i prefer to see john as a part of mikoto, but also a separate character, so if you're requesting something for both mikoto and john, i will count them as two characters, so please keep that in mind when you request something!

🧡 what i will write:

♡ all main project prisoners + es

♡ both romantic and platonic headcanons (everything i write for amane will be strictly platonic)

♡ fluff, angst, comedy, etc

♡ guard!reader and prisoner!reader

♡ both t1 and t2 prisoners (+ maybe some t3 headcanons/theories?..)

♡ gn!reader, male!reader, fem!reader (a note: because of how popular the theory about kazui being gay is and because of the possibility of it being confirmed, i'd prefer to write only gn!reader and male!reader when it comes to him)

♡ both mikoto and john/orekoto

♡ non-prison au

♡ i prefer to write headcanons rather than scenarios simply because headcanons are easier to write jdkldsjssk

♡ i also may post general/non-x reader writing here (like crimeswap au, alternate verdicts au, etc) if y'all are interested :)

🧡 depends on the request:

♡ because of the nature of the project, i'm totally okay with writing dark content, including yandere, but i have a right not to wriite something if it makes me uncomfortable for one reason or another.

♡ as mentioned below, i don't write nsfw, but i'm okay with suggestive stuff, but again, i may be uncomfortable with some of it. also, i will write content like this only for the adult characters, meaning everyone except es, haruka, muu and amane.

🧡 what i won't write:

♡ novel characters (i don't think there's enough canon stuff to write anything about them tbh..)

♡ side characters and victims (as much as i would love to write something for rei, hinako, shidou's wife, etc, again, we know even less when it comes to them)

♡ nsfw (again, suggestive/light nsfw is okay, but only with adult characters)

♡ even though i like the threekoto theory a lot, i won't write for midokoto/greenkoto/doe, since it's not confirmed and there's not much i can do when it comes to his character.

🧡 my other blogs:

@linabirb (my main/personal blog)

@linawritestwst (my twst writing blog)

@linalilia (my old personal blog)

@linawritesocs (my twst ocs blog)

@linagram (my milgram ocs blog)

@008-edits (my edits blog)

🧡 masterlist

#🧡 pinned post! #milgram #milgram project #milgram x reader

[cuubism]

What do you think the Darkness Morpheus sends Gault into is like? It looks a little like un-creating the Corinthian did so some think they just cease to exist, but he said "perhaps a while in there will bring out your fears" which sounds like they experience time and continue to exist in a way Corinthian wouldn't until he was remade.

oh such an interesting question

the dreams and dreaming are technically a part of morpheus, which means "the darkness" is too, so my initial CRACK headcanon is that he's just being super emo and sending them to the depressed despairing part of himself that's like 'oh life isn't worth living... there is nothing for me but the endless nature of my function'... etc etc like just tormenting them by inflicting them with the terrible knowledge of how awful life is or whatever, "welcome to my twisted mind" etc. Bad Nightmares Get to Share My Mental Illness. the dreams after they get out are like dude are you okay. and morpheus is like no <3

actually you know what? that was supposed to be crack and i was going to come up with a serious headcanon after but i think i might just accept this as my canon now 😂 morpheus please stop assigning depression to your misbehaving creations and get actual help, thanks

#if anyone else wants to share a serious thought please do #ask #anonymous

[sunlitsorrows]

NOTE: 8/2/24 - Please pardon all the Murderbot i have a lot of feelings about “less than human” characters and i am down the rabbit hole on this series; naturecore and poetry will resume once the hyperfixation stops shaking me like a ragdoll.

Sunlit Sorrows

(formerly A Handful of Rest)

Intro

A friend started calling me Sunny the other day(year), and while I don’t feel like it’s a terribly accurate description of my personality it gives me such joy when I hear her call me I find myself quite liking it anyway, so! Hello! I’m Sunny! Does it carbon date me to say welcome to my twisted mind?

Blog

This is a Personal/Writrblr/Scrapbook blog, a lot of cottagecore and dark cottagecore with the occasional goblinposting, I like mystery serials and period dramas, more sci-fi than fantasy but I am a sucker for fairytales/fables; poetry and song lyrics, funnies, flowers, pretty bugs, etc. Most everything goes in the queue. No DNIs because in my experience they don’t really work that well (though I do try to abide by other people’s). I try to block tags instead of people, and this blog is my place to take a break from life/the universe/everything, so aside from the occasional “I need to be a grumpy toddler about this for a second” post about things that have happened/are happening to me specifically, you won’t see much in the way of opinions/current events/signal boosts...

Tagging

Tumblr Tags are more of a filing system than anything else; I try to tag things by… “who might like to see this, what tag might they use to look for it?” “who might not want to see this, what tag might they use to block it?” and “how can I find this on my blog later?”

Please feel free to me know if you need anything tagged a specific way for blocking purposes.

My Writing

My writing will all be tagged “sunny writes”, but it’s mostly thinking out loud/rambling/worldbuilding/occasionally a poem. Someday I’ll post something for like… actual story reader reading, but I’ve gotten feedback (from a real life actual editor no less) my writing might actually be publishable if I can just finish something, and… you know. A little extra grocery money might be nice. And the motivation to finish something so the potential enjoyer can read all of it seems to be helping me not give up/wander off to the next idea.

But the random ideas gotta go somewhere! So they’re going here! 🙃

#blog intro #a proper introduction #for a given value of proper #sunny is incapable of not rambling sorry

[overplannedbutunnamednpc]

Things You Said When 1, 4, 18, 25 for Clover ☘️💛

and More........ because we're so fucking normal about them.

this IS just fanfiction so bekah gets to read about Them. but i also wanted to write about them. its called mutualism.

yall who are playing DONT READ!!! idk if theres spoilers i'm not bothering keeping explicit spoilers out of here (writing this before I write all of em). but if yall arent playing dia with us check it out. these guys are sooooooo . rachel knows. rebekah knows. if yall wanna know and youre NOT in their game. come hither....... welcome to my maze..... and then dm me about it. directors commentary etc

Clover

1. Things you said before you knew any better

Honeybee's hair is softer than Clover knew someone's hair could actually be.

It's not that it's actually feathers, because Clover has felt Honeybee's feathers, and they're soft, yeah, but they don't feel like hair or anything. Even the ones that tuft up around his ears don't feel like hair, so it's not just that Honeybee has hair that's all feather vane, or vane that’s all hair. His hair's just really fucking soft.

Clover knows this, because Clover has been playing with it for a half an hour, mostly marveling.

It's not the shampoo he uses. Clover's used that, stole it even though it's the good stuff all the way from Waterdeep and Honeybee complains about it whenever he notices that the bottles run out twice as fast as they used to. Well, it's technically Clover's shower, so Clover's calling them even.

His head’s lolled back to rest on their knee, and though they shouldn’t be letting him sit on the floor in case it aggravates his bum leg, they’ve said nothing yet. They’ll help him up when they’re ready to move. One day they’ll actually go to bed at a reasonable hour. The night is stretching long and dark and quiet before them, though, and its temptation is as real tonight as Honeybee’s loose-limbed relaxation, as it’s always been. So tonight might not be that night.

Gods above and so below, they need a deep-clean.

They just need to clean him out of the creases of their brain, where he stuck like - well, like honey, in the niches of its comb. Someone needs to take a good handful of steel wool and lye and pluck the troublesome organ from between their ears and cleanse them of Honeybee.

That, or Honeybee needs to stop - it was a couple of things. It was a list of things, little things, things Clover is better off forgetting just for now, things like the little crease by his eyes, the lopsidedness of his smile, the - the stupid tattoo that peeked out the back of all of his shirts, right at the perfect spot to place their hand on the back of his neck, and the way that when they do give into the temptation to handle him there, he actually relaxes into it, like he's been waiting for the callous on their thumb to swipe over the knob of his vertebrae at his nape, every time.

They don’t mind it, sometimes, the anticipation of it. They’re fairly assured it was anticipation, anyway, but the two of them have a lot to do together that, quite frankly, Clover would be distracted from if their choices were between “cold night of surveillance” and “warm night in bed with Honeybee”. There’s only so much delayed gratification one person can take, and they’ve delayed it long enough that they are fairly sure if they broke now it would not be a temporary issue of distraction.

So, they can wait.

At least tonight isn’t a cold night of surveillance, or they would both be being very derelict in duty indeed.

That reminds them.

"Honeybee?"

"Mm?" Maybe they were wrong about not getting to bed at a reasonable hour. Honeybee sounds as if he’d been dozing a little. Whoops. Maybe they’ll carry him to bed, make up for it.

"Will you come with me, to my mother’s?"

The question rouses Honeybee a bit, makes him move to twist and look at them properly. They let his hair go to allow the movement, then twine their fingers back into his hair in a loose fist, because he’s suddenly between their knees facing them and they need to control that situation quickly, before they either throw all their musings about anticipation to the wayside or get distracted from the question they are asking or both.

"Really?"

Clover nods. "She wants to meet you, and—" They pause, considering their words, thumb rubbing over the section of soft hair it’s found itself over. "You’re… a part of my life now. You should come."

Honeybee looks a little skeptical. "And… Luckey?"

The right question to ask. Clover shrugs, though. "I agree with you, about Ult’s people. Half of them must have left by now, and he hasn’t made any real moves in a bit. I don’t think there’s much for them to do right now. Especially with practically no one here anymore." Ultiss was a bit… smug, every time they saw him now, his eyes always lingering on them too long, but that doesn’t change the fact that he hasn’t been doing anything, and there’s only… four? five? of them left in town. "They might come back, but… I haven’t really seen anything that worries me, and you said you didn’t either, so… yes. Come with me. Let’s take a break."

Honeybee brightens, incrementally. This is another thing he does that sticks in Clover’s head. The way he brightens up like a cloud’s revealed the sun on a spring day. It’s too deep into winter for there to be any more flowers, but the ones Clover did put on him seemed to refuse to wilt for longer than they should, probably for exactly this reason. Waiting for the sun. Clover’s always waiting for it, and Honeybee never disappoints.

4. Things you said instead of “I love you”

This is actually a pretty shitty room.

Not the worst inn room Clover’s ever stayed in, but not top thirty, certainly. Probably not even top fifty. Definitely not nice enough to justify the amount of coin Clover had forked over for it.

Probably because I was tipsy. Or maybe it was that obvious how bad I wanted a single. That’s a bit embarrassing.

Well, not as much anymore. Honeybee saw through the single room thing, too. He didn’t seem to mind.

Honeybee.

Clover is playing it cool. At least as much as one can when still… sticky, because they and Honeybee had just.

Don’t freak out about that.

It was a good thing! They never thought otherwise. Months of buildup and they had, actually, made good on it. And it was good. Shit, it was good. Months of buildup were perhaps worth the late lone nights type of good.

It is new, though, for sure. Good-new, yeah, despite the shitty room and clumsy attempt to manufacture intimacy, regardless of the fact that it worked.

How many seconds is us recovering before it becomes us just not talking?

Not a question they know how to answer. Honeybee's face is tucked into the crook of their neck, and he's not, like, lying down, but this could definitely go to cuddling if they shifted a little bit and he went to his side. That's a good sign, hopefully.

Okay. Talk. You've caught your breath. He needs to know this wasn't just- and you need to know he's not just drunk.

They swallow. "That was."

Honeybee nods against their neck.

They chuckle, mostly just to get rid of the post-coital nervous energy. "Yeah."

Honeybee draws away. The curtains in the room aren't drawn, so there's only a little bit of light in the room, and Clover's darkvision softens him into shades of gray. His hair is bright white, reflective even with barely any light to do so with, and the honey of his skin has gone rich-dark gray, and whatever spark that lives in those eyes of his fixes down on Clover, who can't help the smile, because he is gorgeous. His neck's a little bruised - their fault, but they're not apologizing - and his breathing's still a little fast, and when they lick their lips, his eyes flick down to them.

We can kiss now.

The realization is a very welcome one. They actually sit up slightly for it, which would make Honeybee shift to move away and give them room if they didn't also grab the back of his hair and pull him down to kiss them again. Then again.

Because they haven't actually talked, they keep the number to only three before releasing him. He doesn't go far, though, and they incentivize as much by running a wondering hand up one of his thighs to a hip. He has such nice hip bones. And collar bones. And the bones in his wrist don't lose him any points, either. If they keep up the having-sex-with-each-other thing, they'll almost certainly find some other parts of his anatomy to have new appreciation for. In many ways, they already have, though that appreciation can't be called aesthetic at all quite yet.

Talk. Talk.

Unsure if they're ordering themselves or Honeybee, Clover complies anyway. "I hope you had expectations, because that far exceeded mine."

"Oh, yeah," Honeybee replies, then pauses. “That’s- you mean you had high expectations and I still exceeded them, right?”

Clover chuckles. “Yes. Great expectations, still surpassed.” They start rubbing their thumb over their favorite spot on Honeybee’s hip, where the tattoo is. “I…”

You should probably say it. This would be the time. You’ve been biting it back for how long? This is a good time.

It would be, that’s true. Honeybee’s breathing’s evened a little now that they’ve exchanged words, but he hasn’t moved from above them, and they can’t tell exactly where he’s looking without his eyes moving in response to stimuli they give him, so they lick their lips. His eyes flick down a bit. He was looking them in the eyes, then. Well, no longer.

Don’t get distracted. Tell him.

“I should-” Tell him. Tell him. I love you, just like that. “I wasn’t planning on this happening when I suggested the trip, so you know.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t- planning on anything when I suggested the dinner.”

“I’m glad you did.” Tell him.

“Me too.” Honeybee smiles. He’s beautiful like this. Which is why they should tell him.

The cuckoo clock down the hall starts squawking. Clover has no sense of what time it is, starts to count the chimes to figure out how long they've been wrapped up in Honeybee, how long they might still get to be.

One. Two. Three. Tell him.

It would be easier without darkvision, maybe. They can still see the details of him. Even better, now, because there's coming a glow through the room window. Red-orange looks good on Honeybee, lights up the gold of his skin. Thank you, whoever just lit that fire outside.

Six. Seven. Eight. Tell him, now. Now, Clover. Ten.

"I've- been thinking about that, though, for a while," Clover says, all in a rush.

Honeybee says, too, overlapping chatter, "I think I should-"

They both fall silent. Clover counts eleven, twelve and, when Honeybee makes a gesture to give them the floor, instead, they do not let themself wonder about what he thinks he should be doing, and instead plow ahead, forcing their nerves to steel rather than shake. "I just wanted to say, I-"

And then-

BOOM

somewhere in the distance. Clover sits up, immediately on the defensive. Their sword's always right by the bed, so they just need to find where Honeybee put their pants.

“What the fuck was that?”

18. Things you said that were a promise you intended to keep

Luckey, perhaps predictably, didn't actually have that much going on in it.

It was a small town - Clover could count the number of people that lived here in a slow afternoon if everyone was at home. They numbered around two hundred or so. Enough that, at least if they were looking at faces, Clover could name everyone in town.

That made it very strange to come across this.

They practically tripped over the man. It wasn't their fault. It was raining, and they were carrying wood and the man was small and on the ground, so it certainly wasn't all their fault. Their foot caught on his form, and Clover stumbled, one of the switches they were carrying clattering to the ground and making them flinch. "I'm sorry, I wasn't - oh. Are you okay?"

They switched immediately from apology to concern when they saw the state the man is in. His face was bloodied, and that was saying nothing of what might've been going on under the clothes he was wearing - they weren't really able to tell, medicine wasn't their strong suit. "I'm sorry, let me get a look at you. I'm Clover."

They set down the wood they were carrying and got to their knees to give him a cursory inspection. He had clearly been beaten up, which drew a frown across Clover's face.

The man seemed a little out of it, and blinked wide eyes at Clover. His jaw worked slowly. "S- Sehonivee-Haien. Charmed."

Bit of a mouthful, Clover thought. With his feathery ears, they had to wonder if he was an aasimar, too, with one of the names like their mom, long enough to gain someone importance. Not exactly a polite question, though, not while he was bleeding on the ground, so they just gave him a smile. "Charmed. Can you stand?"

Sehonivee-Haien's face twisted. "Jury's out."

"Alright. Here," Clover said, and pressed a hand to the side of his face. There was practically nothing divine still left in them, but they could still force whatever spark was still there into a bit of healing, which could be the difference between life and death, sometimes. Or, in this case, the difference between standing and walking, and getting tripped over in a sidestreet. "Okay, let's try it."

They stood, offering him a hand. He hesitated, but took it, and Clover hauled him up as gently as the verb "hauling" allowed. He ended up on his feet, anyway, though he was a little newborn deer about it. Clover took care of that with a steadying arm around his back, which, definitely hurt a broken rib or two from the way he hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” Clover said. “But it’ll hurt more if you fall.”

“Hurts pretty bad now,” he replied, with a grin shot through plenty with pain. They were pretty good at reading people, but really didn’t have to be, to see that much.

They gave him a smile right back. He deserved it. This was their town, and the fact that he had gotten beaten half to death on their watch? It spurred at something ugly in Clover's chest, something angry enough for them to show teeth. Even if that was accompanied by upturned lips. "My home isn't far. You'll be safe there."

Somehow, this man had the widest eyes Clover had ever seen, never mind the fact that one of them was already swelling shut.

Clover's version of healing was not very divine. At least they could be fairly assured that he wasn't bleeding internally on them.

"Are you- are you sure? I'm not... I don't want to bring anything to your door, if someone has something against me..." Oh, he was so worried.

Clover patted his cheek. "Hey. Hey, look at me.” He did. He had very striking eyes. “You- You're not getting hurt again, okay? Not on my watch."

It was a promise they meant. A promise they kept.

Mostly.

Mostly, except for that - that little scar.

But that—that was a very different promise.

25. Things you said that you still think about today

It was a joke.

Or, okay. Not a joke, because if Honey had actually asked, Clover might have done it. At least given it due consideration. That was not saying much, because Clover would have done pretty much anything Honey asked, back then, and they weren't going to consider how much they'd do for him if he asked even today, but.

Anyway.

It wasn't serious. Clover didn't think so, anyway, and they weren't about to ask Honey now if he ever meant it when he said they should go off and live somewhere else. He was a big-city sort, or so he said, and Clover was no stranger to cities, so it wasn't like they couldn't make it work.

He was pacing the kitchen—he was restless some mornings, just like this. Clover didn’t know why back then, just accepted it as a quirk of his to sometimes be soothed away. Now, of course, Clover had connected his restlessness to the mornings he had left late last night or early that morning, presumably playing his part in whatever part of their lives was real rather than the fiction they’d created.

“Maybe we could leave Luckey sometime,” he suggested, apropos of nothing. Clover fetched a mug for their morning coffee, kept an eye on him.

"What, run away together?" they asked, after a second of observing his behavior. He was restless, certainly. Small-town fever, they thought. People got it. Not Clover, but people. “Or do you mean more of a day trip?”

He looked over at them, and allowed himself a smile. “Well, what do you think?”

“Of running away together?” Clover poured themself a cup. They wanted to give him the benefit of clear consideration. “I think it’s ultimately unnecessary. We’d have to be running from something, by definition.”

“Ult’s guys,” Honey suggested.

Clover added cream to the cup, still taking Honey seriously. They had thought he was a coward, back then, tiptoed kindly around his caution. He had, after all, still borne the scars of their treatment—did, actually, to this day, so perhaps that was not all act—and they thought that his caution was a boon, making them more thoughtful. “I’m not convinced they’d follow us. Not running away from anything, that way.”

Honey hummed. Paced some more. “Okay, but. It’s kind of? Small?”

Clover nodded. “Two hundred or so.”

“Yeah, so. Small.” Honey nodded to himself. “That doesn’t… you like that? You’ll like that forever? What if some people here end up sucking?”

“Depends how much they suck,” Clover said, after another pause to make sure his question had been given its due consideration. “People here right now do suck. I’m still here.”

“Forever?”

Clover shrugged again. And then, in a moment of what wasn’t irony but certainly couldn’t be anything else, said, “It’s a sweet thought, Honeybee, but I’ll be honest… Luckey will have to have burned before I’d leave it.”

Honey had given a half smile and sat down. “Well. That’s not happening anytime soon.”

Satisfied with the answer and with the fact that Honey had actually gotten his ass in a chair, Clover sat with him and reached across the table so they could squeeze his hand in theirs. “We can still go on a day trip.”

It was a strange thing, the fact that they were so assured that he would stay right there with them, looking back on it. Honey did, of course—he slept in the next room, though far from Luckey—but they did wonder. If they never left Luckey, where would Honey be? Still sitting at that table?

The what-if and what-is suspends there, in their mind. They try to be self-disciplined about these things. The memory pauses right there, fingers touching their Honeybee’s, and palms not yet met.

#clover #the baebees #really inundating this blog with them lately fjhdskfhsd #theyre just good. SORRY #sometimes these things need to be somewhere other than discord dms. you understand #also sharp eyed readers (rebekah) may notice some parallels with a certain rp from 2018 in the promise one. btw. #ALSO I used the book canon and not the movie canon for the sex scene. so they could talk.

[tunabesimpin]

🐟 Welcome to Tuna's Lair! 🐟

Tuna's the name art is my game! I just be simpin! I mostly create content for Twisted Wonderland here! But I’m happy to do stuff related to all of these: [ Twisted Wonderland, Splatoon, Genshin Impact, ProSekai, Uma Musume, Obey Me ]

Please check if requests are open in the below section before you send in anything.

This blog may reblog content better suited for mature audiences! sensitive topics, dark themes, etc. as well as posts with heavy spoilers. PLEASE TAKE CAUTION WITH THIS IN MIND!

Requests

Check here before sending in requests! I will try to respond to all requests, but if you send an ask for something that has closed you're going to be disappointed. On that note if you requested before a deadline and haven't received a response please be patient. I make sure to remember all I have left so I promise I will get to you ^v^

Rules:

-request are mainly for OC interactions or canon characters unless there is an event -these will be sketches only; no color except very minimal shading or monotone (depends on my irl workload) -Writings and questions will usually be responded with rambling or a bulleted style -I do not take nsfw requests -If you would prefer a private response be sure to let me know in your ask -If you are wondering where your ask went, feel free to ask again or msg me! -Be polite or I will not do your request and may block/ ignore you -Mutuals you can send in anything at anytime ily :3

Questions/ Interactions/ Writings - [ OPEN] Art Requests - [ CLOSED ] Special Event Requests - [ CLOSED ]

Profiles/ Series/ Comics/ Writings Collection

OCs:

Tuna! | Profile | Relationship chart | TWST Style Model | tag #twst tuna |

Mitchell! | Profile | Relationship chart | tag #twst mitchell |

Series/ Vids/ Events:

TWST OC Hunger Games! - Twst OCs thrown into hunger games! Tunas Sea-Side Side Quest! - 800+ Follows Summer-time event Top Ten Gooby Woobies - Meme Video

Writings/ Comics:

Fishy Beginnings - Tuna backstory/ UM backstory Floyd Has Discovered Something Interesting - Tuna x Floyd comic Slumby Party with Lilia & Tuna - Anxiety vent

Tags

Tuna OC/Sona - #twst tuna Answers/ replies/ rambles/ general posts - #tuna be talkin Writings - #tuna be writin Summer Fanevent - #TunasSeaSideSQ

Introduction

For those who don't know me!!! Welcome to my (mostly twst) simp page! My name is Tuna! I'm 23, ace and nonbinary. You can use any pronouns for me, however I most prefer They/Them! I have severe anxiety and ADHD so I hope you will be patient with me and let me know if I become too chatty or overstep lines! My hobbies include creating art, listening to music, playing games and sometimes streaming. I'm not the best at interacting with others due to my anxiety, but I enjoy talking whether it be with close friends or shoving my ideas into the void of tumblr. I love simping for art, writings, music and all sorts of different medias! I love to hear/ see/ read and learn about everything yall make! I usually do art in my free time, but sometimes I like to play silly horror survival games, farm sims, and rhythm games. I've been doing art for around 7 - 8 years. I hope one day to work off my art, but I don't expect that anytime soon.

Anyways here are my favs from different medias! TWST - Floyd, Jade, Azul, Rook Lilia, Kalim, Ruggie Splatoon - Pearl, Marina, Frye, Callie Genshin - Klee (main #1), Alhaitham (Main #2), Tighnari, Fischel Prosekai - all of Wonderland X Showtime, Kanade, & Shiho Uma Musume - Gold Ship, Special Week, Silence Suzuka, Twin Turbo Obey Me - Beelzebub & Barbatos UtaPri - Natsuki Shinomiya

Games I like to play! TWST, Obey Me, ProSekai, Bang Dream, Splatoon 3, Phasmophobia, Fallout New Vegas, Devour, Minecraft, Sonic Adventure 1 & 2

Anyways thanks for getting to know me! One warning! Please do not ask insensitive questions or try to leave hate/ be extremely rude. I'm just going to block you as I really don't have time or the mentality for it. Its very hard to get on my bad side, but once you are, there's no coming back ok? I'm just trying to have fun here ^v^!

#intro post #pinned post #tuna be talkin #new pinned cause i wanna get back into things again ><

[glaucouscherubim]

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒Intro༒༆࿐ཽ༵☆

Welcome! To Cherubim's Post Office!

!DISCLAIMER!

This blog may contain the following: Profanity, Gore, explicit themes, sexual themes, corruption, and etc. with other items like this. It is not my job to dictate on what you may consume on this blog or on the internet anyhow, therefore, it is not my job if someone is underage or can not handle these items happen upon the blog! What you consume is what you consume. It is not my job to watch over you! I will place TW on posts that will need them! Thank you! Half of the masterlists are a WIP! Please be patient! ༺ღ༒ Creator Intro ༒ღ༻ Character Name: Glaucous Cherubim. Alias: @monochromefilms, Postmaster Glaucous Character age: [???] Power: Negativity: 8/10 Arts: 6/10 Gaming: 4/10 Likes: Viet food, Dark history, Historical facts, random psychology facts, Psychology analysis of current fixation, doing hair. Dislikes: Uncalled for opinions, bitter melon. Weaknesses: Easy burn out, back pain, often sick. ༺ღ༒ Request Page ༒ღ༻ One shots, Scenarios, headcanons, blunt ideas that first come to mind. max is 3-6 characters. ༺ღ༒ Fandoms Page ༒ღ༻ Current Fandoms Open: you may place requests in inbox for a wait list Innocent [Shin'ichi Sakamoto] Currently at Innocent Rouge, chapter 23 Open for: writing [Closed] Lychee Light Club [Usamaru Furuya] Both Lychee and Bokura no Hikari is finished, ask for any. Open for: writing [Closed] Innocents Children's Crusade [Usamaru Furuya] finished trilogy, ask for any. Open for: writing [Closed] Twisted Wonderland stopped playing the game since chapter one was hard T~T, mostly caught up on lore Open for-writing [Closed] [Writing requests guidelines and rules] ༺ღ༒ Oc Masterlist/worlds ༒ღ༻ Cult/Court of Hebe: Enter a world where you can see everything fall first hand. Like sand falling through your fingers... [Enter with the Empire's permission] Narcissisms: Adventure, gods, death, etc. Where shall this journey take you? [Maps and maps with places and places, Just point and go.] Godly Heirs: Reincarnation couldn't get any worse, better, weird, gory,... you get the gist. [Welcome to the empire of heirs!] Just ocs from fandoms.... : Welcome to the multiverse. Unfinished, undone, and always, unexpected. [Who do you wish to meet?] Yanderes.... :Unhealthiness galore. It's an obsession alright, but, which way? [ONLY FICTIONAL! DO NOT SUPPORT IRL] [Don't you love us?] ༺ღ༒ See you again.... ༒ღ༻

#art #xreader #pls #yandere oc #masterlist #intro #blog intro #introduction #pinned intro #introductory post #intro post #lychee light club #Innocents children crusade #Innocent (shin'ichi sakamoto) #innocent rouge #innocent manga #ocs #original character #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #twst x yuu #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines

[graves-writer]

advanced lit+/novella | Supernatural (TV show) | (F playing) A4A

Currently looking to write;

Supernatural;

MxM or MxF

wincest / weecest / gencest - and anything adjacent. ! main !

dean winchester x sam or fem!sam

serial killer au! sam and dean

dean winchester x claire novak (maybe)

sam winchester x claire novak (maybe)

possibly open to others (no destiel, apologies.)

dead dove, darker writing, character exploration, deeper themes, etc

discord preferred

Characters I can write;

dean winchester (main)

sam winchester (2nd main)

claire novak

jack kline

About me, rules, preferences, etc;

I'm a girl (21F), typically with preference for playing male characters, I figured I'd get this out of the way, but I prefer partners that aren't hung up on my irl identity. I would, however, like to talk to someone that enjoys a lot of plotting, headcanons, and can have friendly + civil conversations. I tend to consider myself an advanced writer (I will be leaving a sample), and prefer a partner that is capable of the same. My responses tend to range between 4k to 25k characters in length, and that usually depends on my partner's preference, but I'm always willing to push myself to write more.

I do have a strong preference for third person, but I'm willing to write in first if I enjoy your style and there's no blurring of irl to rp boundaries (no out-of-dialogue usage of the word "you" to refer to my character in first person writing, for example.)

Admittedly, this is not a wish-fulfillment post, I don't enjoy roleplays for the sake of writing out a fantasy and instead approach it similarly to writing a book. My ideas typically don't make for "wholesome" or "cute" plots. I like dark and angsty, and often use topics that should be treated with maturity. I'm aware that's not what most people on here are looking for.

Basically, I'd love to find a partner that enjoys darker and even dead-dove leaning writing! I find that RP can be an artform of sorts, and if we can create an interesting, gut-wrenching and emotionally charged story I think that'd be great.

* here's an old short story I've written as an example of my writing. though I'd like to say that I've improved since posting this. I can provide more up-to-date examples as well if you'd like that.

You're also welcome to send me your own information! Preferably, I'd also like to roleplay over on discord where I can make a dedicated server. I'd love to hear of any thoughts or ideas you may have, or anything like that, really.

Important: there will be absolutely no romance, serious flirting or any such interactions between us OOC. I don't tolerate this, nor am I okay with being asked pictures of myself. Please, do not be creepy, respect the boundaries of others.

Oh, and I also won't throw a tantrum because you haven't paid enough attention to me. I'm patient, you can literally take as long as you need to get back to me (days, weeks, more if needed) even ooc. I'd like a level of understanding in return as well, though.

- some favorite themes to write about themes: age differences, power imbalances, loss of innocence, loss of morality and choices, corruption, found families, psychology, humanity, moral ambiguity, revenge, philosophy destruction and self-destruction, isolation, loneliness, melancholic reflection, grief, instability, the need for love, unhealthy dynamics and coping mechanisms, hope, codependency, desperation, obsession, etc.

- I like twisted dynamics in writing.

- romantically, I mostly have experience with MxF- however, I'm interested in branching out and getting better at writing MxM. please have patience with me if we go with the latter, haha!

- I have a few ideas, but I'd mostly like to brainstorm together. Don't be afraid to tell me if you have something in mind.

I'd also be open to working w different aus and ideas with the same characters if you'd rather do short, self-contained stories? could be fun, I think. like little one-shots and that kind of thing, which could allow us to explore different themes and all that.

Generally, I'm open to exploring various taboos, angstier themes, etc, and I welcome anything you may want to bring up.

I'm very interested to hear your own interests, preferences, ideas, characters, and all those things, so feel free to hit me up.

#dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural rp #spn rp #sam winchester #wincest #gencest #weecest #sikennatural #roleplay #cc x cc rp #ao3 #fanfic #the winchester brothers #advanced literate rp #literate roleplay #novella rp #supernatural roleplay #wincest rp #wincest roleplay