#✘ TᕼIᔕ Iᔕ TᑌᖇᑎIᑎG IᑎTO ᗩ ᒪOᐯEᒪY EᐯEᑎIᑎG ✘ || Modern Verse

[bastxrdly-blog]

continued from here || @no-happi-endings

“And that’s how I got bit by the dog. Wanna see the bandages?” She said as she blearily pulled up her sweater up, still high on meds.

              Normally, a woman pulling her shirt up to reveal her breasts would be  his favorite thing, but oh no...no, not this. He winced hard at the sight of the deep wounds on tits that SHOULD be appealing and a sound of frustrated disgust came from his throat in spite of himself.

           “Put your shirt down, we’re in public. Nobody wants to see that mess.”

[bastxrdly-blog]

continued from here || @reekcd

          “Whoa, whoa, WHOA. Rocks have cleavage?”

[bastxrdly-blog]

continued from here || @iron-reborn

[Text: Squid Boy] Well it sure as fuck wasn’t meant for YOU, you fuckwad.

[Text: Squid Boy] Delete it. NOW. Or you won’t like what I do to you.

[bastxrdly-blog]

"Hey, mate. You look lonely. What's up?" (Roommates AU)

          Ramsay was draped out flat on the couch, right arm and leg hanging down to the floor, head tilted to the side to stare aimlessly at the wall…so, yeah, he was pretty wide open to people being concerned. He didn’t move an inch, but his gaze rose up to look at his room mate.

          “Nothing. Just get the fuck out of my face unless you have a beer and waffles to offer.”

[bastxrdly-blog]

continued from here || @dxmericbolton

[Text: Dumberic ] Didn’t say I was PROUD of it, I just said I did.

[Text: Dumberic ] Nice isn’t my cup of tea so...nah.

[bastxrdly-blog]

continued from here || @littlcadder

[text: Rams ]: that’s very sweet in an incredibly dirty way….. [text: Rams ]: it’s perfect [text: Rams ]: you know I’m at an important meeting.

[Text: Isy ]: I know you are... [Text: Isy ]: But you should be HERE, not wasting time with art snobs. [Text: Isy ]: It’s been two whole DAYS!

[bastxrdly-blog]

because what is sleep and impulse control?

[ Text: Isy ]: Keep it up, I dare you.

[Text: Isy ]: I swear to God, I’ll bend you over this table in front of fuckin’ Janet and every waitress in this place.

[bastxrdly-blog]

[Text] I already see enough of you in person I don’t need to see more, Ramsay.

[Text] I didn’t expect it to look like that to be honest. Doesn’t height and length generally correlate?

 [[ Coinhabitant ]] That wasn’t meant for YOU. 

[[ Coinhabitant ]] Don’t you DARE go posting that on your stupid websites, you asshole.

[[ Coinhabitant ]] ..........and just what exactly do you mean by that? 

[bastxrdly-blog]

❝ I’ll get you more pumpkin, and I’ll ram it right up your fucking ass. Would you like it whole, or diced? ❞

Gordon Ramsay Quotes!————————————–

          Lesson learned: don’t EVER insult her cooking. Especially not when she apparently spent all day working on it. The pumpkin pie had been good…and he may have said something along the lines of “Can I have another slice of that pie since it’s the only edible thing here?”

          APPARENTLY that had been the wrong thing to say.

          “Wow, that hardly seemed necessary.”

[bastxrdly-blog]

[text: Blue eyes] ..I’m not your wife, I’m not even your girlfriend why even ask?

Isyla downs an entire glass of Whiskey and lights a smoke with her hand shaking.

[ Sassla ] Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see how you’d react!

[Sassla ] And also to give you a heads up, I might be bringing some very trashed women back to the apartment.

[Sassla ] You can join us if you wanna ;)

[bastxrdly-blog]

super cool character headcanons

I know this was supposed to be a send in meme, but screw it, I just wanna do it for modern RamRam.

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

    1. Let The Bodies Hit the Floor - Drowning Pool     2. Lithium - Nirvana     3. Evenflow - Pearl Jam     4. Jeckyll and Hyde - Five Finger Death Punch

the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep – where they’re not supposed to

          In class.

the game they'd destroy everyone else at

          Strip Poker ;)

the emoticon they’d use most often

           😯

what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

           He gets needy and grumpy. He wants everyone to do everything for him and he just drags himself around looking pathetic.

their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

          Tea.

how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

          Drinking, drugs, sex, loud music. And cooking, surprisingly.

what they wanted to be when they grew up

          A rockstar, so he’s kind of living his dream.

their favorite kind of weather

           Rainy, overcast. Snowy,

thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

          Ramsay has an incredibly beautiful baritone singing voice. He is the lead singer and guitarist of his band “The Bastards” who are regionally famous although they regularly travel for competitions and to be the opening act at concerts. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHMNrrPyHhg   (seriously though, listen to him!!! )

how/what they like to draw or doodle

            He has no talent for drawing, but he doodles in his textbooks a lot in College Verse xD

[bastxrdly-blog]

CITY AESTHETICS

bold the city related aesthetics that appeal to / apply to your muse. REPOST, do not reblog. feel free to add !

smoke escaping a dark alley.  speckled lights up a skyscraper at night. the business of the morning rush to work. the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries from bakeries in the early morning.  the crack of dawn walk of shame. lines of cabs and buses filling the main streets. sunrise breaking over the skyline. neons flashing against brick. lightning bolt cracks in the pavement. sunset streaming through buildings. a theatre district full of tourists and performers. night time rain hitting long glass windows. activity on every street corner. shattered glass littering the concrete.  wind tunnels passing through a maze of buildings.   churches nestled within high rises.   breakfast on a small balcony. sirens echoing and bouncing off the inner city walls.   dirty rivers breaking up the concrete jungle.   season changes : burnt orange of autumn trees , light white snow of winter ,  midday sunshine of summer ,  blooming flower bushes in spring.   crystal canals littered with houseboats.dusk falling and lights flickering on. lightning striking the tops of skyscrapers. vague reflections in the water of fountains. cigarette ashes in the gutter. darkened and empty side streets. lines of people and chatter outside of clubs.   fire escapes trailing down the sides of buildings.  high ceilings in industrial studio apartments.   rainbow hues reflected in glass.  cityscape views from monuments. rain gutters swelling during heavy downpour.  a park oasis in the middle of the city. new years fireworks lighting up the night sky. airplane trails littering the sky.   polished corner offices.  strip club pamphlets strewn across the damp footpath.  rooftop gardens.  oil pools staining asphalt. sky scrapers protruding thick cloud.   helicopter spotlights.   litter piles surrounding dumpsters nestled down alleyways. window displays of designer stores. streets lined with thin trees. the contrast of the white paint and asphalt at crossings. street views from the bathroom windows.   lowlit bars permeating red light.

tagging : Anyone and everyone

tagged by : stole from @drakainas

[bastxrdly-blog]

“is there someone else?”

Jealous/Possessive Sentence Starters——————————————————

           The question comes as no surprise, it’s one he always gets eventually because women are only blinded by affection to a point…obviously they’d reached the point. Maybe it was the stale smell of sex clinging to his skin or the hint of cheap perfume and even cheaper cigarettes on his coat, perhaps the most incriminating was the rather long and curly blonde hair she’s just pulled out of his own black tresses.

          He blinks at her for a moment in silence, something deep inside of him screaming at him to lie, to deny, to beg forgiveness…but he simply shrugs, his face perfectly calm, unperturbed, unaffected.

           “There’s several others, actually.                 As far as I remember, no claims of fidelity to you were made;                        I don’t owe you anything.”

[bastxrdly-blog]

continued from here || @isylaofwyl ---------------------------------------

          Ramsay would never admit to anyone , not even to himself, that he’d found something in Isyla that no other woman before her had offered or could replicate, a sort of peace he found when he was buried inside her, moving together in a rhythm they came by naturally, breath mingling in pleasured pants, moans and sharp gasps filling the silence that usually hung between them when he first arrived, teeth and tongues and sweat and blood and bruises and pleasure and pain...it was all he could do to remove himself from her and walk away every night. 

            Peace. This wasn’t something he was familiar with. He couldn’t remember a time in his life where he’d felt so fulfilled and complete and...safe, than when he was with her. His life had been a series of fucked up: his mother left when he was barely old enough to remember her, his brother died when they were just boys and his father reminded him daily how little he thought of him and how he wished he had been the one to die instead of Domeric, his sister rarely showed her face except a rare Christmas or Thanksgiving (both holidays simply being another day to sit round the house smoking and getting shit-faced), he’d taken to cigarettes, alcohol, and weed in junior high and had graduated to cocaine and LSD by the time he’d graduated highschool. He’d always had a gift with the ladies, what with his musical talent and his sinister good looks and sex had become his drug of choice, always available and always leaving him wanting more. But with THIS woman.....with her it was even more; he could never get enough no matter how often he had her.

          She met him stroke for stroke, her fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as they struggled for dominance, her teeth leaving him marked as often as he left her the same, her tongue sharp and unafraid to put him in his place, her hands strong and tight around his throat as his had been moments before...she took everything he could dish out and returned it with just as much fervor and ferocity. Most women gave up on him, couldn’t handle his sadistic nature, leaving in tears the moment he was finished with them, but not Isyla. She stayed. She not only stayed, she kept coming back.

          He knows he makes his comment a lot, because it’s true; there is nothing he loves to hear more than that beautiful voice of hers, thick with arousal and desperation and ecstasy, screaming his name like a prayer to the Heavens above and the Hells below. The way the sound if rolled off her tongue in that little brogue she had and the way her head would fall back to expose her throat and the way her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm...and she never faked it, he knew it because he would feel it in her bones and the way she pulsed around him and the tremor in her voice. That moment was all he lived for and he would give his vocal chords up just to experience it once more time.

          So why...why was he so alarmed by that one, simple word: “Stay”? Why did his gut twist in horror at the implication behind it? Why couldn’t he just take the offer, turn back around and lay next to her, wrap her in his arms and hold her like his body screamed at him to do? Instead he remained, rooted in place halfway to the door, pants hanging loose around his hips, shirt a rumpled mess, hair askew, heart in his throat. 

           It was because she was offering him something...something he knew he would never deserve. Stay, she said. Stay. But he knew that word held far more implication, it was a call to him to make an exception, to break from his pattern....to change. To give her the heart he didn’t have to give. To be HERS. But he knew what he was and she deserved far better than the poisonous, shriveled soul he had to offer.

          “You should know by now...                                                      I never stay.”

[bastxrdly-blog]

College/ General Modern AU

          Ramsay is an on again-off again student at university, majoring in music but he honestly doesn’t try hard at all to succeed, he simply shows up to class as he pleases and gets passing grades simply from being gifted at music and a naturally good test taking ability.

          A gifted guitarist and excellent vocalist, Ramsay sings and plays lead in his band “The Bastards” who frequent local bars and events. A playboy, Ramsay uses his talents to his advantage and rarely leaves a venue without one or two ladies on his arm.

          Ramsay comes from a tense homelife, having lost his older brother at a young age and being the youngest with a sister who avoids coming home unless she absolutely has to. His birth mother is a wreck and ran off on her own when he was young, leaving him with his father (who despises him) and step-mother ( who is kind, although never stands up for him either). 

          He has a massive, black cane corso named Myranda who looks terrifying but is actually a sweetheart...unless her master is threatened.

            Tattoos: Ramsay has a full sleeve on his right arm in shades of black and gray which includes skulls, a grim reaper, a trail of ragged pawprints, knives, the name “Myranda”, arrows sticking into a realistic heart, music notes,  and various lines and shapes to connect them all together.             He also has the flayed man in black and white on his abdomen around his navel and “Our Blades Are Sharp” on his ribs made to look like the words are lying inside of deep knife wounds.     

[bastxrdly-blog]

CHARACTER  INTERVIEW  ! repost,    don’t reblog.

 MODERN VERSE

NAME  :  Ramsay Bolton

NICKNAME  :     The Bloody Bastard, Rams,  assorted colorful things people like to shout at him

AGE  :   thread-dependent, but usually 22-24

SPECIES  :    Human

PERSONAL !

MORALITY  :  lawful   /   neutral   /  chaotic   /   good   /   neutral   /   evil  /   true

RELIGION  :  Agnostic. He doesn’t care either way.

SINS   :  greed   /   gluttony   /   sloth   /   lust   /   pride   /   envy   /   wrath

VIRTUES  :   chastity   /   charity   / diligence /   humility   /   kindness   /   patience  /   justice

KNOWN LANGUAGES  :    English 

SECRETS  :  He’s a contract killer / hitman which he doesn’t flash about.

PHYSICAL    !

BUILD  :          scrawny   /   bony   /   slender   /   fit   /   athletic   /   curvy   /   herculean   /   pudgy   /   average

HEIGHT  :    173cm // 5′8′‘

SCARS   /   BIRTHMARKS  :  Practically flawless skin, with the exception of a few small scars from knives as he practiced with them or people he’s sent to kill have fought back. One scar on his side from a gunshot.

ABILITIES   /   POWERS  :    Brilliant singer and guitarist. Can skin a human being completely, skilled with knife attacks and defense, an excellent shot with a pistol as well.

RESTRICTIONS  :    What does this even mean? 

FAVORITES    !

FOOD  :   Any food, really. But he’s all about getting Indian takeout.

DRINK  :    Jack and Coke or bourbon and Coke. And beer.

PIZZA TOPPING  :   Anything but pineapple or anchovies. Gross.

COLOR  :   Black or Red

MUSIC GENRE  :    Grunge/Rock

BOOK GENRE  :    He doesn’t read much, but if he does it’s political thrillers.

MOVIE GENRE  :    Action, Comedy and Horror

SEASON  :      Winter

CURSE WORD  :    Fuck and all it’s variations.

SCENT ( S )  :  Amber and citrus, leather, pine, clean laundry.

FUN STUFF ��  !

BOTTOM OR TOP  :   Both

SINGS IN THE SHOWER  :   Absolutely. He’s usually always humming at any given point, so the shower is a place he cuts loose.

LIKES BAD PUNS  :    Groans and rolls his eyes at them, but secretly laughs inside.

TAGGED BY  : Stole from @killthebxy

TAGGING  : everyone who sees this and wants to steal it