Rtbamapride98 - Untitled

Charlie Hunnam On James Bond Rumors

Wtf wtf wtf wtf

So, skip the film to 1:45:42 and Daddywise is covering his ears before the explosion. How cute is he? 😭🎈and no it’s not fake, I took these screen shots from the film itself. Don’t believe me? Go to yesmovies.to and type in “It 2017” and go to the timing.

@penny-hoe for noticing

Honey Badger Don't Care

Found this little nugget:

“It is ironic how often Hufflepuff is underestimated, given that its mascot is one of the most dangerous animals in the world. The African honey badger is known for being impervious to bee stings (with African bees being among the most toxic on the planet), are known for being able to fend off and reduce snakes to shredded flesh, and a single African honey badger is able to kill three lions on its own.”

Seven very majestic seconds.

°Jax Imagine where he has a romantic day with the reader. Super fluffy!

The day had barely even started and I was ready to scream. Abel had woken up super early, interupting Jackson and I in the middle of a morning round.

Jax had to leave early to open TM. I had stopped by, leaving Abel with Tig, only to come back around to find that he gave him a shit ton of candy and soda.

So now here I was, at home with a cranky toddler who refused to go to sleep.

“Abel, honey, don’t touch that, please.” I asked of him.

It was a metal photo frame and I didn’t want him to hurt himself.

His bottom lip quivered as he plopped down on his diapered tush, throwing one hell of a screaming fit.

I tsked, feeling my own tears of frustration start, “Honey, c'mon now.” I went to him, picking him up.

He bent himself backwards from me, letting out a wail just as Jax walked through the door.

The smile he wore fell from his face. Concerned he rushed to us, “The hell’s goin’ on?”

He touched my back as I bursted into tears. Handing Abel over to him, I went to the bedroom to calm down.

10 minutes later, all was quiet and he stuck his head in the door. “Hey Darlin’.”

I sniffled, “Hey.”

He came in, squatting down in front of me, “What’s the matter, baby?”

I grabbed a pillow hugging it to me, “Nothing, just Abel and I frustrated. I’m killing Tig by the way.”

He laughed, taking the pillow from me so he could kneel between my legs. “Yeah, Mom told me. She came and took Abel for the weekend.”

I perked up slightly. “Just you and me?”

He smiled, leaning against me, “Just me and you, baby.”

I dipped my head, kissing him soundly. Just as I was about to pull away, he brought my face back down to him, his fingers in my hair.

His kisses were alway the best, making that light smacking noise as his lips pulled away from mine.

It was just, unf!

One last peck and he stood, pulling me up. “Now, I want you to get dressed in one of those cute dresses you like so much. I’ve got some plans for us.”

I couldn’t help the smile. It must’ve been contagious seeing how Jax’s smile was so big that the corner of his eyes crinkled.

I hugged him, excited as I went to pick out a dress. °°°°°° Jax was ready to go, outside smoking while waiting for me. I left the house, locking the door behind me. He leaned against his bike as I walked over to him, his eyes following up my legs and to my face.

He bit his lip, grunting while blowing out some smoke.

“You look great, baby.”

He offered his hand out to me, which I gladly took. Flicking his cigarette to the side, he pulled me to him, kissing me.

He ran a hand up my leg, it going under my dress and squeezing my backside.

I pulled back from the kiss, smacking his chest.

“The neighbors, Jackson!” I laughed.

“Just seeing if I had easy access Darlin’.” He grinned.

I rolled my eyes, but played along, “Jax, Sweetheart; with you, there’ll always be easy access.”

He laughed, kissing my cheek before handing me a helmet.

Jax climbed onto his bike, giving me his hand to help me balance. I sat behind him, easily sliding down to where my body was snug with his.

Starting the bike, he put up the kick stand, then took a hand running it up my thigh and under my dress again.

I shook my head, smacking his arm. He laughed loudly over the roar of the bike before pulling off onto the road. °°°°°° We rode for about 20 minutes, just to the outskirts of Charming where a great Italian restaurant was located.

Violetta’s was absolutely beautiful and smelt like fresh baked goods when we entered.

We were seated immediately, a booth in the far back where we could have our privacy.

As I scooched in, Jax pulled me to his side, putting his arm around my shoulder.

As we looked over the menu, he took his fingers, making tiny circles on my arm. Little things like that always relaxed me.

We ordered our food as soon as the waiter came. She took our menus then left us to ourselves.

I leaned over, kissing Jax on the cheek. “Thank you Sweetheart. I really appreciate this.”

He gave me his crooked grin, “Anything for you baby. You deserve this and more.”

I leaned into him more, practically snuggling him.

“So how’s everything with the club?” I asked.

He shook his head, “No talk about the club or work, Y/N. This is about just you and me spending quality, quiet time together.”

“Sorry Hun. It’s so weird not being surrounded by it.”

He nodded his head, taking a sip of his drink.

I looked around the restaurant, taking in the decor. I felt Jax tilt his head towards mine as he kissed the outer shell of my ear.

“You look really good, baby.” He commented.

It’s not that Jax never complimented me, because he did, but to just be able to focus on him and him alone was just amazing.

I blushed, putting a strand of hair behind my ear, “Thank you Jackson.”

He kissed down my neck, taking in a deep breath, smelling my perfume that I sprayed on before leaving.

“What’re you wearing?” He whispered, his lips never leaving my neck.

I bit my lip, “Southern Soul.”

He left multiple kisses and nips on my neck before going back to my ear.

“It smells awesome, baby. I could just eat you up.”

I had to hold back a moan. “Well, you can eat me later.”

And that’s when the damn waitress walked back up to our table with our food. She was a rather young girl and a deer caught in the headlights look at my comment.

My face heated as I cleared my throat. Jax’s chest rumbled with laughter as she placed the plates on the table and left.

He then busted out laughing, falling over to his side.

I pinched his hip, “You ass!” I hissed.

He sat back up, grabbing my chin and kissing me. “You’re so damn adorkable, baby.”

I mocked him while grabbing my fork. I spun my fork in the pasta that I’d ordered, bringing it to my mouth.

Closing my eyes, I moaned softly at how delicious it was. The pasta was al dente and the sauce spot on.

Jax cleared his throat. I opened my eyes and looked to him.

“What Sweetheart?” I asked, wiping my mouth.

“Uh… I’m kind of jealous of that pasta right now.”

I couldn’t help the snort that came out as I laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save some moans for you.”

He shook his head, “Promises, promises.”

We throughly enjoyed our meal and were more than ready for dessert.

I ordered Budino, an Italian custard, while Jax ordered a raspberry cheescake.

Jax took a small piece of raspberry and a piece of cake, bringing it to my mouth, “You gotta try this, baby.”

Shyly, I opened my mouth, taking the bite he offered. Jax’s eyes darkened as he pulled the fork from my mouth.

His other hand gripped my thigh, giving it a squeeze.

I chewed slowly, licking my lips as I swallowed. “Mmm, that is good!”

Jax’s resolve broke, him snapping for the check.

To be continued

NOTE: Alright, so the next imagine is a Jax Smut, so I figured that I’d continue this one with that request. Sound okay? 😄

In this somber look at Dean’s relationship with alcohol, I picture the lyrics being sung by the alcohol, taunting Dean, threatening, and seducing him. Such a good song, chills!

When someone insults your fandom

Writers

Writer says: So I had this crazy idea one day and I just had to work on it. Here ya go!

Writer means: So I had this crazy idea either right before getting in the shower or right before falling asleep so I grabbed my fucking laptop and shat all over it to create the steaming pile of crap that I now lay before you. I don’t even know if it’s good anymore. I haven’t slept in two days.

Writer says: Wow, real life’s getting busy! Sorry on the slow updates.

Writer means: My life is a literal storm of shit at the moment. Why did I decide to do this. Why am I still doing this. Everything around me is spinning out of control and I am staying up ‘til 5:30 in the morning every night to create a piece of work that will only get two comments and 12 demands for quicker updates. I hope no one’s mad at me, all I wanted to do was write.

Writer says: Wow! Would you look at that! I updated on time! Please enjoy!

Writer means:  WOOOOOOHOOOOOO BITCHES LOOK AT THIS PRODUCTIVE ASSHOLE GO YEEEEEHAAAAWWWW TAKE THAT YOU NASTY REVIEWERS ALWAYS DEMANDING ME TO BE FASTER! I GOT THIS SHIT I GOT THIS SHIT

Writer says: This chapter was a toughie. Glad it’s finally done!

Writer means: I don’t know if this is good or not. I honestly don’t fucking know. I’ve read the same words over and over and over again and I just couldn’t look at it anymore. My beta said it was ok but I’m not confident but HOLY SHIT I JUST NEED TO STOP WRITING THIS FUCKIGN CHAPTER.

Writer says: Thanks for reading!

Writer means: Please, oh please oh please oh please leave me a review. A comment. Anything. Please tell me you’re out there. Please tell me someone is reading this.

Writer says: I just want to say that real life is getting pretty hectic right now. Please try to be patient with me, I know you guys want updates. Thanks! :)

Writer means: FUCK. YOU. Who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from me?! You don’t know my life! I have a very busy life! I create shit for free, you entitled son of a pig-fucker! STOP LEAVING ME COMMENTS TELLING ME TO UPDATE SOON OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PUKE ALL OVER MY COMPUTER 

Writer says: What’s gonna happen next? Who knows? Hee hee ;)

Writer means: I have no fucking clue what the next chapter is going to look like. What’s my plot? I don’t know. I feel no emotion.

Writer says: Please leave a comment! It helps me write!

Writer means: I am begging you to leave me a comment because I swear it’s the only thing that’s keeping me motivated right now, I hate the work I put out and I need reassurance that people are actually enjoying this.

Writer says: I hope you enjoyed that chapter, big things are coming up! ;)

Writer means: Buckle up bitches, someone’s gonna die.

Writer says: I know I’ve missed a few updates, but I swear I plan on finishing this story! 

Writer means: *high pitched eternal screeching*

Writer says: Here we are at long last! This has been one wild ride. I want to thank you all so much for your support and love, I adore each and every one of you. I am so happy to say that this story has come to a wonderful close.

Writer means: My body is numb. Voices call out to me from the void, but I can no longer hear them over the beating of my racing heart. I am stressed to the point where I feel no relief. The story is done. It’s fucking DONE. I loved it, I hated it, it was a fucking storm of horror and pain. I can no longer see color. Now I can at last relax and…wait……wait a second………..holy shit I just thought of the best idea for a one-shot that’s totally gonna turn into a 50 chapter slow burn AU fic leT’S FUCKING DO THIS

I’ve found that the best way to write a death scene is to make it saddest when it shouldn’t be. The funeral is rushed, the realization of death isn’t spent too much time on, and the characters mourning is more of a blank space filled with hums and a need for endless nothings.

But then Person A finally gets to be alone and gets to their room and looks at the bed and realizes that it’s suddenly a lot bigger. And they’re too short to reach the blinds to close them, and that was always Person B’s job. And they’ll never fold clothes for someone else again, never need to ask someone to turn off the light, never try to stop them from snoring. And then moving away from it all, trying to forget, holding back tears in the kitchen cradling a cup of tea they realize that Person B will never drink tea with them again. And they’ll never help them reach their mug. And when they drop it to the floor, shattering it into millions of helpless individuals there is no one there to tell them not to move, not to step on the glass, not to cut themselves. That the mug has no worth because it’s worth was in the adventures of cleaning up the pieces and remembering it as it was. 

There is no one to stop them from hurting. And there is no one to drink tea.

Tragedy comes in the little things. I just wanted to remind you of that.

First kiss ft. Vilkas, Teldryn Sero, Brynjolf, Gwilin

A/N: Guess who’s back? (but for how long?)

Requested: Yes

–

Vilkas:

It had been a long trek back - but a rewarding one – finding the merry revelers as they wandered the land with their packs full of mead, happy to share in their revelry when the ‘grand companion’ passed by. He’d nursed the bottle right the way to Jorrvaskr, his smile fading as he witnessed his harbinger hunched uncomfortably over the table, elbow propped up on the wood with thumb and finger pinched at the top of their nose. They huffed resignedly, slamming down her charcoal to the point it shattered and rolled back into the hearth.  

He pulled out a seat beside them, barely finishing his inquiry as to what troubles were plaguing them before the pile of parchment was slid in his direction.

Contracts, summons, missives… inheritance… their toll weighed heavy. Then his eyes trailed to the higher pile, the completed pile, and the two empty ink pots beside it.

“Perhaps I could be of assistance.” They shook their head wearily.

“You’ve only just returned Vilkas, I couldn’t ask it of you. Go, get your rest.”

“And what of your rest. If we finish these together, we’ll both get what we want.”

There was no further argument when he fixed them with a glare, their mouth slamming shut as he began his work.

He took the contracts, signing them off with a flick of his wrist, and the personal papers were left aside, another night in the privacy of the dragonborns quarters would be for them.

An hour and a half later, they were done, and the completion of the job was about as satisfying as the cracks they received from their backs.

“Thank you Vilkas, I do believe drinks are on me when Hulda allows back in the mare.” It was fleeting, innocent, but it set his heart pounding. Their hand squoze his shoulder, and then their lips were pressed against his cheek, the sensation lingering long after their footsteps had disappeared.

Teldryn Sero:

The ash had whipped up dramatically, sending the duo to seek shelter. The cave was a mere crack in the mountainside, cold, damp, and dark – til Teldryns palm fluttered alight with arcane flame. What little kindling they could find was thrown to the flame, the fire growing till it was enough to light the small cavern and warm their freezing fingertips.

They pressed together – side by side beneath a threadbare blanket, holier than a priest of Arkay. With a bottle of Sujamma between them, they made the best of the situation, laughing until they were wheezing at one another’s tales. He’d long shed the cowl - for it did nothing but inhibit his ability to drink - but his mask remained. Through glossy, beady eyes he gazed at his companion, their flushed cheeks, gleaming grin, and sparkling eyes as they – yet again – told him the story of the tiny jester and his broken wagon. He’d heard it numerous times before, but he drank up every word, if for no other reason than to hear their jovial laughter.

He passed the bottle, barely a mouthful left, but still, they threw it back, the blanket slipping from their shoulder in the process.

“You know…” They whispered, eyes lidded as they glossed over his mask “This is technically an indirect kiss.” They giggled, covering their mouth light a child. He grinned back, leaning to fix the blanket at their shoulder.

“Then perhaps we should kiss properly. There’s no drink left after all.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to purr in such a way – though when they leaned into him without a second thought, he didn’t complain.

Brynjolf:

“Mind if I join you?” He took his seat with the nod of their head, placing his tankard down and fingering the rim. Despite all that had occurred, it seemed neither could summon the courage to address their current predicament. Desperately, he threw shy, fleeting glances, coughing, fidgeting – pitiful attempts to gain their attention. His mishap still pounded in his head.

They’d barely made it out the ruin, bruised, battered, and soaked to the bone. Mercer had taken his toll on all of them, but none more so than the dragonborn. Brynjolf could see it – the way they stood, all hunched, swaying ever so slightly. They were drained, and seemingly invisible to Karliah as she prattled on about Nocturnal and the task his friend was set to complete.

He’d caught them when they’d fell, legs giving way to the fatigue that flooded their limbs. He held them, their face pressed against his shoulder, and reflected on all he’d put them through. From a quick pick on the streets of Riften to slaying their own guild master in a Falmer infested dwarven ruin. And what had he done to help?

His hands stilled them as they heaved themselves back up, face steeled and tired as they looked to him for – something. So he leaned in, brash and uncalculated as he pressed his lips against theirs.

He’d forgotten the Nightingale armour was akin to a second skin.

They chuckled from across the table, grinning as he flushed across his cheeks and down his neck. He’d never been so embarrassed. His hands held his face, a groan rattling through his throat as their chuckles silenced, teeth at their lip to hold in what hadn’t escaped.

A gentle touch at his wrists and his hands were being withdrawn, placed upon the table with theirs atop his own. His breath hitched as they leaned towards him, smirk shrinking til their lips puckered and pressed against his own, unobstructed.

Gwilin:

“Excellent day for a swim” his voice was honey on the wind, an irresistible treat that had the dragonborn turning from their task in an instant. His shadow covered them, granting them the ability to gaze upon his smiling face, eyes crinkled at the corners, as he peered over the bridge at them.

“Perhaps you should join me them.” They’d been serious, but the jovial chime of his laughter proved the man was still all too innocent of their affections.

Once again, the sun shone in their eyes, and the crunching of fallen leaves that grew closer proved he’d abandoned his previous spot. They joined him at the bank, his eyes darting away and a dusky brown coating his cheeks. They were soaked to the bone, dressed in nothing but their underthing’s – and the medallion that hung from their wrist.

“I do believe this situation is a tad inappropriate” He mused

“Have to live life in the moment though don’t you?” It was a motto of sorts, one they turned on him regularly – an excuse to drink, to fight, to love – all to see his nose twitch in mild discomfort. They weren’t wrong.

“True, but yours are turning to bad habits.” He mumbled, allowing their laughter to ring in his ears and deepen his flush.

Temba’s voice shocked them both – a summon almost as powerful as the greybeards. He looked towards to mill, considering what trouble a moments delay could cause him – the dragonborn didn’t visit Ivarstead often.

With a deep sigh, he turned to say his farewells, only to have their touch behind his neck, and their lips upon his own.

“I do hope that becomes a habit.”