laurfilijames - Tumblr blog

[laurfilijames]

"I'm gonna say something. Are you listening?"- Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Triple Frontier

Good. Thanks Frankie.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

About fandom in general, interactions or lack thereof, how something you can feel so happy and passionate about can make you sad at the same time.

The idea of no longer sharing my fics has also been something that's crossed my mind on numerous occasions, but at the end of the day I WANT to share them. I am proud of them and I figure if they make me this happy, I hope they can make someone else happy too.

I continue to trek on, trying to compartmentalize my feelings and press on, creating fics I think others will enjoy as well, and praising the gorgeous man who plays gorgeous characters whose stories I love to change or extend.

Recently, I've felt guilt. Guilt that I haven't been creating and posting enough things for you to indulge in. And then I remember that in the last 4 weeks, I wrote and posted 3 fics.

3 fics where a majority of the reblogs are my own, and most of the notes are likes.

I'm feeling this way because of the lack of interaction. I'm not blaming or pointing fingers or trying to extend any guilt to any of you (and thank you endlessly to those who do reblog and comment and send messages and have conversations about them 💗) But I can safely say that this is a widespread issue across all fandoms alike.

It's disheartening. People leave and give up and have their creativity crushed to the point they no longer participate or share their wonderful art.

I came across a post that I reblogged yesterday that added another level onto all of this.

Artists and writers having to "market" and promote their work in hopes it'll help drum up excitement for what they have coming up.

As if taking the time and energy to create that fic of piece of art isn't enough, now we have to work like a full marketing team in hopes we will get a few more reblogs or comments.

I have seldom participated in tag games where you share snippets of WIPs etc because more often than not, the response to them are *crickets*. It's embarrassing and gives off that "no one is interested so why bother sharing it" vibe.

We shouldn't have to work that hard to get feedback on the things we share.

I know, and respect, that some people experience comment anxiety, but I promise you that if you're able to, whether it be a string of emojis or keysmashes or even a gif, you will be making a difference.

This happened to me yesterday.

Right when I felt like it's all fruitless, someone swooped in with a comment that gave me hope and reminded me why I do it. And it was on my least popular (and personal favourite) series to boot.

Because of this simple act of communication, my hope and motivation has been restored.

Now I know I'm going to get people saying "you should write for yourself" (I do) and I shouldn't rely on others to keep me motivated (I don't, I have Charlie Hunnam for that) but it's such a key component to all of this and I think most creators can agree to that.

So please, for the love of fandom and the things you love (the actors, the characters, the shows or films) PLEASE INTERACT WITH THE ARTISTS AND WRITERS WHO CREATE INCREDIBLE ART AND FICS FOR THEM.

You may not realize what an effect you have, but I promise you, you do, and it may even help save your favourite artist from abandoning it all.

[laurfilijames]

Rain

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 600+

Warnings: Intense make out session outside The Abbey that is suggestive to leading to public sex.

Summary: Not even the rain can stop you and Pete from keeping your hands to yourselves.

A/N: I have at least four other WIPs I should be working on but this happened and here you go.

---

It smelled like rain.

It was about to downpour, but you didn't care.

The cold wind rushed around you, pushing you closer to Pete and his endless warmth, your hair whipping out and then back against your face again, only to have him card through it with his long fingers in an attempt to keep it out of his way.

He never lacked passion, his barrage starting long before you had even made it through the doors of The Abbey, not paying any mind to who bore witness to the things most people would wait to do in private. His hands had been all over you while inside, lingering and teasing, and stepping out into the freedom of the open air only seemed to encourage him more, the one that had swept your hair away slipping down to land on the column of your neck where he applied enough pressure to make you suck in a deep breath, deepening the reach of his tongue in your mouth as he did. His other hand skirted along your waist, grazing your skin in a playful manner that almost tickled and made you squirm, the difference between his two touches and the varying sensations effectively intoxifying you.

“Pete,” you breathed, his smile looking blurry as you tried to focus when he parted from you, and now you were the one clawing at him to bring him back to you. Gripping at his tan trenchcoat, you crashed against him, exchanging the smell of the oncoming weather with his skin and the last pint he had downed, swallowing his chuckle as you explored his mouth with your tongue eagerly.

Any amusement he found in this was quickly rid of, his moans reverberating through you when you ground your hips against his, not feeling shy in rubbing yourself on his hard bulge as if there were no clothes separating you.

“Fucking hell,” he huffed, pausing as if deciding whether it would be better to stop before going too far or simply abandon any decency he had left, ultimately choosing the latter as he looked down at your kiss-swollen lips and touched them with his thumb, moving his body forward to force yours back against the brick wall behind you when he captured you in another claiming kiss.

His lips needed yours, a desperation transferring from him to you that made it seem like if he didn't kiss you enough, the skies would open up from the power of his fury alone.

Heavy drops of rain pelted off his coat, the sound almost able to overtake that of your wet and frantic kisses, and feeling the rain start to bead down your faces only seemed to add to the frenzy, like Mother Nature was encouraging you to let all inhibitions go.

The wind picked up again, passing through the limited space between your bodies, your nipples pressing against your shirt in a pleasurably painful way as they peaked into hard pebbles, increasing your arousal to a level that had you whining into Pete’s mouth while finding it difficult to continue breathing.

The assault of the biting cold contrasting to Pete’s warmth along with the pummeling of rain on your exposed bits of skin had you dizzy, the excitement and anticipation of how far both of you were willing to go standing outside the pub adding to your overstimulation, and when he dove down to kiss your neck, you knew there was no way of getting out of this now.

You closed your eyes, tearing at his body under his jumper, begging with your hands for him to give you everything right then and there, your fingers acting on their own and instinctively finding the button on his jeans as he continued to nip and suck at your wet skin.

It was raining, but you didn’t care.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist: @stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13

[laurfilijames]

Charlie Hunnam

[laurfilijames]

🫠 it's perfect. You're doing the lords work over here

I threw the making of Rebel Moon in the background and needed this as a GIF. Searched and found nothing so I did my best. Maybe someone will be inspired to make a better one because this one is rough... 🙃

[laurfilijames]

I just wanna tell my silly little stories without needing to think about possible marketing techniques, damn it.

[laurfilijames]

I was tagged by @navybrat817 and @nerdieforpedro to share something from a WIP, and while I tend not to participate in too many WIP-sharing tag games, my rule is if I'm tagged more than once, I'll do it 🤣

Here is a little snippet from an untitled (😑) Will Miller fic that is very light and smutty and playful.

He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.

Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.

[laurfilijames]

I was tagged by @navybrat817 and @nerdieforpedro to share something from a WIP, and while I tend not to participate in too many WIP-sharing tag games, my rule is if I'm tagged more than once, I'll do it 🤣

Here is a little snippet from an untitled (😑) Will Miller fic that is very light and smutty and playful.

He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.

Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.

“You look good, sweetheart,” he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.

[laurfilijames]

Rain

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 600+

Warnings: Intense make out session outside The Abbey that is suggestive to leading to public sex.

Summary: Not even the rain can stop you and Pete from keeping your hands to yourselves.

A/N: I have at least four other WIPs I should be working on but this happened and here you go.

---

It smelled like rain.

It was about to downpour, but you didn't care.

The cold wind rushed around you, pushing you closer to Pete and his endless warmth, your hair whipping out and then back against your face again, only to have him card through it with his long fingers in an attempt to keep it out of his way.

He never lacked passion, his barrage starting long before you had even made it through the doors of The Abbey, not paying any mind to who bore witness to the things most people would wait to do in private. His hands had been all over you while inside, lingering and teasing, and stepping out into the freedom of the open air only seemed to encourage him more, the one that had swept your hair away slipping down to land on the column of your neck where he applied enough pressure to make you suck in a deep breath, deepening the reach of his tongue in your mouth as he did. His other hand skirted along your waist, grazing your skin in a playful manner that almost tickled and made you squirm, the difference between his two touches and the varying sensations effectively intoxifying you.

“Pete,” you breathed, his smile looking blurry as you tried to focus when he parted from you, and now you were the one clawing at him to bring him back to you. Gripping at his tan trenchcoat, you crashed against him, exchanging the smell of the oncoming weather with his skin and the last pint he had downed, swallowing his chuckle as you explored his mouth with your tongue eagerly.

Any amusement he found in this was quickly rid of, his moans reverberating through you when you ground your hips against his, not feeling shy in rubbing yourself on his hard bulge as if there were no clothes separating you.

“Fucking hell,” he huffed, pausing as if deciding whether it would be better to stop before going too far or simply abandon any decency he had left, ultimately choosing the latter as he looked down at your kiss-swollen lips and touched them with his thumb, moving his body forward to force yours back against the brick wall behind you when he captured you in another claiming kiss.

His lips needed yours, a desperation transferring from him to you that made it seem like if he didn't kiss you enough, the skies would open up from the power of his fury alone.

Heavy drops of rain pelted off his coat, the sound almost able to overtake that of your wet and frantic kisses, and feeling the rain start to bead down your faces only seemed to add to the frenzy, like Mother Nature was encouraging you to let all inhibitions go.

The wind picked up again, passing through the limited space between your bodies, your nipples pressing against your shirt in a pleasurably painful way as they peaked into hard pebbles, increasing your arousal to a level that had you whining into Pete’s mouth while finding it difficult to continue breathing.

The assault of the biting cold contrasting to Pete’s warmth along with the pummeling of rain on your exposed bits of skin had you dizzy, the excitement and anticipation of how far both of you were willing to go standing outside the pub adding to your overstimulation, and when he dove down to kiss your neck, you knew there was no way of getting out of this now.

You closed your eyes, tearing at his body under his jumper, begging with your hands for him to give you everything right then and there, your fingers acting on their own and instinctively finding the button on his jeans as he continued to nip and suck at your wet skin.

It was raining, but you didn’t care.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist: @stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13

[laurfilijames]

Wish You Were Here

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of death and brief descriptions of war. Intimate flashbacks.

Summary: Sleep deprivation begins to take its toll on Will, leaving him distressed and emotional as he thinks about being back home with you.

A/N: This is sad and it hurt my heart to write but I needed to do it so I can go back to writing fluffy filth!

---

The numbers usually calmed him, gave him something sturdy and finite to focus on, but tonight they taunted him.

Each second that turned into a minute was a cruel reminder of all the ones he had spent awake, and no matter how exhausted he was and how physically ill he felt from the sleep he was being starved of, his mind and body refused it.

It had been days without more than a few minutes of rest at a time, only accumulating to a small number of hours that wasn’t enough to sustain anybody, and another wave of nausea set in as the effects of it all started to become too much.

It was moments like this that he missed you even more. The hurt in his heart turned physical, a relentless ache for you that the pains in his body couldn’t compare to.

Will sighed heavily, trying everything he could to cope with the insanity he felt over it, but it was growing to be unbearable, his limits tested like the few times they had before. He wondered as he took another deep inhale - his empty stomach filling with air - if he was waking anyone up in his distress, constantly shifting where he sat on the cold ground to try to feel even an ounce of comfort, his breathing louder than the wind howling around them, but it was stupid to think anyone else was able to slip into the solace of sleep at this point. No one was snoring and everyone was still, lacking the relaxed twitches that came when rest took control of your body, and he thought how the only members of their company who were resting peacefully were the ones going home to their families accompanied by a folded flag.

Home.

He blew out another shaky breath, closing his burning eyes so he was able to picture it in his tormented mind.

Your alarm would be about to go off, the early dawn still covering your bedroom in darkness right before the sun appeared to kiss your skin with its orange glow instead of his lips, your side of the bed cold as your body favoured his spot to be the one that was kept warm. You would no doubt have one of his t-shirts on and your head would be on his pillow, gripping it tightly as if it was him, trying to capture a bit of him that was left behind from the last time he was there with you.

Will found a little relief in these thoughts, knowing you were safe and out of harm's way, although he wasn’t not naive enough to think you weren’t spending each moment worried and anxious for his safety.

Another inhale, slower this time, eyes still screwed shut as if the tighter he closed them the further he would be from this brutal reality.

He can hear the hum of the fan that sits on your dresser and is aimed at your bed, the sound ingrained in his mind from keeping both of you cool in the humidity night after night, and he can almost smell the scent of your heated skin, the familiarity of it making his mouth water, the desperation he feels to be able to hold you making him want to smile and scream all at once.

Fuck, he wished you were here.

Will flashed open his eyes. No. He couldn’t dream of placing you in this hell and exposing you to all the evil he had witnessed.

He shifted his legs, closing his eyes again as tears sprung up in them, the wet boots on his feet feeling more intolerable than usual.

Another inhale, then exhale.

He sighed again, imagining he’s back in your room, crawling into fresh sheets after showering, tangling his naked limbs with yours, your fingertips dancing up and down along his arm and back and softly over his face until his breathing continues to happen without him thinking about it and his mind is temporarily void of all he holds onto.

In the distance, the boom of an air raid sounds, rumbling and shaking the ground with a trembling force, bringing him out of his dream.

His muscles felt incredibly heavy, beyond tired and depleted of any strength, and he replaced the reasons why they were with how wonderful his body always felt after pouring every bit of energy he had into loving you, the satisfaction in expending all of his power into your pleasure comparable to nothing else.

A stray tear rolled down his cheek as his breathing grew quicker, thinking how he would do just about anything to be with you right now, even for the briefest of moments. Everything was more tolerable when he was with you, no demons too big to face, the strength you had admirable and extended over to him by simply being in your proximity. Sleep was something that never came easy to him, but at least when he was with you he was engulfed in a comforting embrace that gave him some rest and repose.

He brushed the wet away with his thumb, his heart clenching in his chest while his throat restricted, knowing if you were here you would kiss each tear away and sit quietly with him until his mind gave him some reprieve.

Will sunk his chin down into the collar of his jacket, rubbing his mouth back and forth on the material, the smell of sweat, rain and stale blood that he didn’t know was his or not filling his nostrils with a pungency he struggled to get used to.

A huff that bordered on being a laugh came from him, thinking how ironic it was that the night before he deployed he hadn’t slept either, choosing instead to spend every second he had making love to you over and over while the time was available to him, each time never enough, and he thought how he would sacrifice sleep for the rest of his life if it meant he could share nights like that with you again.

He licked his lips, trying to get some moisture onto them and rid them of the stinging, chapped feeling and then pressed them together, recalling how it felt to have them hydrated and wet from yours, imagining the sensation of your skin under them as he peppered countless kisses on your body, something he could only describe as being the closest he could ever get to heaven while he sat in the threshold of hell.

Will had vowed when he left that morning that he would never leave you again after this mission, and he would stay true to that promise, deeming it completely impossible to carry on like this while knowing everything he needed to live and survive was half the world away.

Until then, he would tick off every minute, hour and day, counting them down until he was holding you in his wearied arms again, and hoped he could at least pass some of them with sleep, the gravity of needing to be alert and focused in order to make it back to you sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He untucked his arms from across his chest, tugging up the sleeve on his left one to check his watch, feeling a little more hopeful that he was one hour closer to that goal.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989

[laurfilijames]

He just keeps getting better 🫠 thank you for the tag! 💗

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Charlie Hunnam (@charliehunnam_en)

[laurfilijames]

[laurfilijames]

The need to snog Pete in the rain is a basic need for me at this point.

I'll pray you'll experience positive rain experiences like this!

Thank you for always reblogging and commenting 💗💗

Rain

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 600+

Warnings: Intense make out session outside The Abbey that is suggestive to leading to public sex.

Summary: Not even the rain can stop you and Pete from keeping your hands to yourselves.

A/N: I have at least four other WIPs I should be working on but this happened and here you go.

---

It smelled like rain.

It was about to downpour, but you didn't care.

The cold wind rushed around you, pushing you closer to Pete and his endless warmth, your hair whipping out and then back against your face again, only to have him card through it with his long fingers in an attempt to keep it out of his way.

He never lacked passion, his barrage starting long before you had even made it through the doors of The Abbey, not paying any mind to who bore witness to the things most people would wait to do in private. His hands had been all over you while inside, lingering and teasing, and stepping out into the freedom of the open air only seemed to encourage him more, the one that had swept your hair away slipping down to land on the column of your neck where he applied enough pressure to make you suck in a deep breath, deepening the reach of his tongue in your mouth as he did. His other hand skirted along your waist, grazing your skin in a playful manner that almost tickled and made you squirm, the difference between his two touches and the varying sensations effectively intoxifying you.

“Pete,” you breathed, his smile looking blurry as you tried to focus when he parted from you, and now you were the one clawing at him to bring him back to you. Gripping at his tan trenchcoat, you crashed against him, exchanging the smell of the oncoming weather with his skin and the last pint he had downed, swallowing his chuckle as you explored his mouth with your tongue eagerly.

Any amusement he found in this was quickly rid of, his moans reverberating through you when you ground your hips against his, not feeling shy in rubbing yourself on his hard bulge as if there were no clothes separating you.

“Fucking hell,” he huffed, pausing as if deciding whether it would be better to stop before going too far or simply abandon any decency he had left, ultimately choosing the latter as he looked down at your kiss-swollen lips and touched them with his thumb, moving his body forward to force yours back against the brick wall behind you when he captured you in another claiming kiss.

His lips needed yours, a desperation transferring from him to you that made it seem like if he didn't kiss you enough, the skies would open up from the power of his fury alone.

Heavy drops of rain pelted off his coat, the sound almost able to overtake that of your wet and frantic kisses, and feeling the rain start to bead down your faces only seemed to add to the frenzy, like Mother Nature was encouraging you to let all inhibitions go.

The wind picked up again, passing through the limited space between your bodies, your nipples pressing against your shirt in a pleasurably painful way as they peaked into hard pebbles, increasing your arousal to a level that had you whining into Pete’s mouth while finding it difficult to continue breathing.

The assault of the biting cold contrasting to Pete’s warmth along with the pummeling of rain on your exposed bits of skin had you dizzy, the excitement and anticipation of how far both of you were willing to go standing outside the pub adding to your overstimulation, and when he dove down to kiss your neck, you knew there was no way of getting out of this now.

You closed your eyes, tearing at his body under his jumper, begging with your hands for him to give you everything right then and there, your fingers acting on their own and instinctively finding the button on his jeans as he continued to nip and suck at your wet skin.

It was raining, but you didn’t care.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist: @stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13

[laurfilijames]

[laurfilijames]

0 note flops only get funnier the more followers you accumulate, like shooting with precise aim and skill a perfectly straight line through an ever increasing line of axe heads directly into the trash

[laurfilijames]

CHARLIE HUNNAM as Lin Ford 2022 • Shantaram • S1·EP6 • dir. Iain B. MacDonald

[laurfilijames]

click here to be taken to my gif pack masterlist where you'll find a link to 481 gifs of charlie hunnam in season 1, episodes 1-5 of sons of anarchy (2008).

[laurfilijames]

🤣🤣 I love getting reactions like this.

Thank you for your readership and support 💗

Rain

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 600+

Warnings: Intense make out session outside The Abbey that is suggestive to leading to public sex.

Summary: Not even the rain can stop you and Pete from keeping your hands to yourselves.

A/N: I have at least four other WIPs I should be working on but this happened and here you go.

---

It smelled like rain.

It was about to downpour, but you didn't care.

The cold wind rushed around you, pushing you closer to Pete and his endless warmth, your hair whipping out and then back against your face again, only to have him card through it with his long fingers in an attempt to keep it out of his way.

He never lacked passion, his barrage starting long before you had even made it through the doors of The Abbey, not paying any mind to who bore witness to the things most people would wait to do in private. His hands had been all over you while inside, lingering and teasing, and stepping out into the freedom of the open air only seemed to encourage him more, the one that had swept your hair away slipping down to land on the column of your neck where he applied enough pressure to make you suck in a deep breath, deepening the reach of his tongue in your mouth as he did. His other hand skirted along your waist, grazing your skin in a playful manner that almost tickled and made you squirm, the difference between his two touches and the varying sensations effectively intoxifying you.

“Pete,” you breathed, his smile looking blurry as you tried to focus when he parted from you, and now you were the one clawing at him to bring him back to you. Gripping at his tan trenchcoat, you crashed against him, exchanging the smell of the oncoming weather with his skin and the last pint he had downed, swallowing his chuckle as you explored his mouth with your tongue eagerly.

Any amusement he found in this was quickly rid of, his moans reverberating through you when you ground your hips against his, not feeling shy in rubbing yourself on his hard bulge as if there were no clothes separating you.

“Fucking hell,” he huffed, pausing as if deciding whether it would be better to stop before going too far or simply abandon any decency he had left, ultimately choosing the latter as he looked down at your kiss-swollen lips and touched them with his thumb, moving his body forward to force yours back against the brick wall behind you when he captured you in another claiming kiss.

His lips needed yours, a desperation transferring from him to you that made it seem like if he didn't kiss you enough, the skies would open up from the power of his fury alone.

Heavy drops of rain pelted off his coat, the sound almost able to overtake that of your wet and frantic kisses, and feeling the rain start to bead down your faces only seemed to add to the frenzy, like Mother Nature was encouraging you to let all inhibitions go.

The wind picked up again, passing through the limited space between your bodies, your nipples pressing against your shirt in a pleasurably painful way as they peaked into hard pebbles, increasing your arousal to a level that had you whining into Pete’s mouth while finding it difficult to continue breathing.

The assault of the biting cold contrasting to Pete’s warmth along with the pummeling of rain on your exposed bits of skin had you dizzy, the excitement and anticipation of how far both of you were willing to go standing outside the pub adding to your overstimulation, and when he dove down to kiss your neck, you knew there was no way of getting out of this now.

You closed your eyes, tearing at his body under his jumper, begging with your hands for him to give you everything right then and there, your fingers acting on their own and instinctively finding the button on his jeans as he continued to nip and suck at your wet skin.

It was raining, but you didn’t care.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist: @stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13