bar shouldered

Step it Up

Requests: “You are one of the only blogs that write quality Barry Allen smut, so thank you. Can you please write a Barry smut where he always is gentle with the reader because he doesn’t want to lose control with his powers. One night she confronts him and a night of vibrating hands and speedy enhancements occur? Thank you 💕” Credits to gif owners!

It was the same thing every time. Slow thrust, kiss, whisper your love for each other and then hand holding. You loved every second of that. Barry told you every single hour that he loved you. And all he did was make love to you, nice and slow, where you could be close to each other and rest your foreheads together. You loved Barry with all your heart but slow just didn’t cut it for you anymore.

The first time you confronted Barry about it, he reasoned with you, sped up a little bit and you made a really strange noise (indicating you loved it) and he figured he hurt you by accident because he was too fast. If Barry even thought about thoroughly fucking you, he would start to vibrate. But he’d never touch you when he did, his excitement about his fantasy would scare him into thinking he would lose control.

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No Strings (V)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Excessive drinking 

Word Count: 4,040

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

Originally posted by jiyoongis

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Gold Leaf | JAEHYUN

Genre: rich kid!au | fluff | angst

Member: Jaehyun / Reader feat. Yukhei

Word Count: 10,500

Warnings: language

Important Note: inspired by an idea of @tenpioca‘s. thank you for letting me write this, ash! also this is unedited, mistakes will be fixed in the future

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Conservative bench press of 8 sets of 4 reps @ 95lbs! Really happy with how my setup and technique are looking lately :) its improved a lot since march!
Note: in the second set we were rushing it because the manager who hates when people record was right there LOL

Before anyone asks me why my back is arched… this is a powerlifting technique to maximize the amount of weight you can put up by shortening the bar path, securing your shoulders (to prevent shoulder problems), and incorporating leg drive. 

Teach Me [M]

Originally posted by aleyongguk

Featuring: Bang Yongguk 

Genre: failed fluff & Smut

Word Count: 1,141

59. “ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ?”

All the sensations and all the feelings that were rushing through your body were more than you could comprehend or handle… thrill…nervousness… excitement…embarrassment… need…  and a slight hint of fear in the back of your mind. But you wanted this.

All of your sense were heightened, the way his flesh made contact with yours and the way his cold fingertips trailed down the valley of your breast; your skin goose-bumped. This was the first time you were so exposed before someone’s eyes and all the sensations were new, but you found a thrill within your nervousness.  Your button up blouse now halfway unbuttoned… “Is this okay?”  Yongguk looked up at you in wait of an answer, not wanting to rush things or make you feel obligated to anything.

You could see the want and need in his eyes, you  nodded your head, “Yeah.”

You had never gone past any heavy petting or some very heated makeout sessions but each time Yongguk would want to take the next step you would stop him… even if you did want him to continue you weren’t exactly sure if you were ready, in all honesty, you were simply hesitant due to your lack of experience.  You were inexperienced compared to Yongguk, you wondered if you’d be good enough for someone experienced like Yongguk.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck nipping at your skin as he trailed  lower grabbing hold of your bra strap between his teeth before sliding it down. He noticed how your hands tensed up and gripped the sheets in your fist.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he questioned as he came to a halt and lifted his face, eye level with yours. You let a small breath escape and nodded, he could tell how nervous you were as a shallow breath left your body. He backed away and sat at the edge of the bed, “I can wait…”   He began buttoning up his shirt feeling remorseful.

“No, I want to…”  you assured as you were now kneeling behind him your arms wrapped around on his shoulders.  “Just…” you couldn’t believe what you were about to say…

“Teach me,”  you whispered into in his ear before tugging on his ear between your lips. That was enough to send tingles rushing down his body. That was enough for him to turn around and pin you on the bed under him without hesitation.

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Dying without company

“You know,” Jason croaks hoarsely, his throat tight with pain and his chest burning from the effort of speaking, “in our line of work, no one expects to live forever.” He pauses to gulp for air that burns as it goes down, and he clenches his eyes shut at the pain the effort causes him–and at how his headache is being exacerbated by Bruce banging against the bars of the cage they’re locked in, roaring threats at their captors. He doesn’t seem to be hearing anything Jason’s saying–he just keeps slamming his hands against the metal frame surrounding them. Jason’s not even sure if he’s speaking English. His posture is wound tight, and anyone even half-sane who saw him this way would turn and run the other direction as quickly as possible.

Jason’s never been sane, though. Plus, there is the small matter of the shrapnel embedded in his chest and stomach–and, more pressingly, the holes the shrapnel left. He’s been trying to put pressure on them since a few minutes after he got them–the first few heartbeats after the rocket launcher fired were nothing but white noise and terror and painpainpain–but his hands are shaking and it doesn’t seem to be doing much good. There’s slippery, sticky blood all over his hands, drenching his uniform, and the few times he’s chanced glancing down at his body he’s only been able to scan the shredded skin, flapping muscle, and the slight darker color of an organ before he’s looked away. He licks his lips, swallows blood and grimaces. But he clears his throat slightly and goes on. “And look, I know I’ve never been a safety-first kinda guy–” A spasm in his stomach makes him clench his eyes shut, keen deep in his throat. “–but I kinda…” he pants, breathless, gives a half-hysterical laugh through his teeth. “…I thought I’d at least make it to thirty.”

It occurs to him, after a long moment of just trying to catch his breath after speaking, that it’s quiet. He chances a glance at Bruce, and blinks when he sees the man just standing there. He’s still clasping the bars, shoulders hunched and so tight Jason can practically feel the rage wafting off him.

Though on second thought, maybe it’s not rage. There’s blood welling up in Jason’s throat, and he can’t stifle a whimper at the sensation. He gags, and then goes into a coughing fit that has him lurching up off the floor slightly, his whole body burning from the inside out and blood everywhere and—

“Shhh.” Something strokes his hair, comforting and gentle. “Breathe, Jay.” There’s another hand on his back, holding him up and rubbing smooth circles. The voice is tense but soothing and reassuring, and Jason finds his gasps growing slower, easier–though he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. His vision comes back slowly, colors bursting into his view in painful light. Bruce’s face, cowl still firmly in place, is above him, the man’s jaw tense in worry. He gently eases Jason’s head down into his lap, cups his face with a gloved hand and carefully wipes the blood from his cheek, his mouth. Jason sighs, leans into the touch and closes his eyes, and Bruce’s hand freezes on his cheek.

“You’re not going to miss out on thirty,” Bruce says, and Jason almost smiles, because Bruce’s voice is as firm as ever and the guy has a desperate need to deny reality.

“I…” he gulps. “I missed you, you know.”

Bruce stiffens further, if that’s even possible.

“Even when I was so angry, even when I hated you, I missed you so, so much, a-and it hurt so damn bad–”

“Jay.” Bruce sounds desperate.

“I just.” Jason’s eyes are burning viciously, almost as badly as his lungs, and he sobs once, the sound choked and odd-sounding from lack of air. “I just want you to know that I did hate you…but I still loved you, too. I…I still…”

“Oh, Jason,” Bruce says, fast and hoarse. His hand slides carefully but fiercely into Jason’s hair, pushing the tangled curls back behind his ear. “I love you too. You know that.”

Jason swallows blood. He does know, and he can hear the pain in Bruce’s tone that reveals how much his doubt hurts, but he can’t help it. He’s always been a cynical son of a bitch. Dying hadn’t changed that before, and it wouldn’t again.

He’s really starting to not feel good. Well, he’s been feeling pretty awful for a good long while now, but now he feels really bad. The pain in his torso—and especially in his stomach—feels deep-seated and intense and pulsing. It throbs in time with his faltering heartbeat, and he feels dizzy and lightheaded, like he’s going to fall over even though he’s lying still. Like he’s going to float up out of his head at any second. Though that might partly be because of the heat—he’s sticky and sweaty and yeah it makes sense that he would be feverish. Puncture wounds and intestines didn’t go well together. He’s probably screwed even if the others get here. Which they probably won’t. He wishes he could accept that fact with a little less desperation. He really doesn’t want to die without getting to say goodbye…and maybe even having them just be there, where he could see them. He imagines it must be awful to watch someone you love die right in front of you, but he reserves the right to think that dying alone is worse. He’d never been so utterly petrified in his life as when he’d died. As utterly weak. All he could do was lay there and cry as he slowly suffocated and wished that Bruce was there.

Bruce is here, now—and probably getting more than a little panicked that he’s spaced out, if the faint pressure on Jason’s face is anything to go by. And Jason’s grateful, he really is. But sue him if he wants the others, too. Even if he hates seeing Dick cry. It always makes him want to cry, too. He doesn’t know if Tim would cry. Maybe. Damian, who the hell knows. Cass would be upset. He thinks maybe she would be the worst.

He faintly feels like he’s being manhandled, and at first he thinks this is it; not in small part because he feels like he’s moving far more than he would be in reality from just being rolled over and tugged upwards. But then his chest hits Bruce’s and the breath leaves him from the pain. Huh. He wasn’t sure he was actually breathing. He supposes that’s a good sign.

“—You can’t do this again, Jason,” Bruce’s voice fades back in as the ringing in Jason’s ears eases off a bit. He rocks back a bit, dragging Jason along. Jason can feel Bruce’s arms around him, supporting him with a tension he knows all too well. “I don’t…” Bruce’s voice breaks, and Jason winces at the first of his hitched sobs. “I just got you back. I don’t want to say goodbye again.” I didn’t want to the first time, Jason hears. “I don’t want you to go.”

Jason takes that in, limp in Bruce’s lap, stuck staring at the collar of Bruce’s suit from where he’s lying, cheek is pressed against Bruce’s collarbone, held there by his dad’s gloved hand cupping his face. Bruce does know that changing position would only help if his lungs were full of blood, not his stomach, right? Jason doesn’t particularly want to go now, either, but…. “Y-You do know that isn’t,” he has to stop to gulp for air, half-laughing a bit at himself and the awkwardness of this situation, “exactly up to me, right, Dad?”

Bruce buries his face in the top of Jason’s head as a response, and Jason just lies there and breathes, listening to Bruce’s shuddering breaths as his tears wet Jason’s hair.

Jason winces. He can’t really move—no strength to—and he can barely feel his face, let alone his limbs. His whole body feels oddly numb…except for his stomach, of course, which is still throbbing with burning pain. He swallows. “…Dad?” He whispers.

Bruce freezes, and only a split-second later Jason’s eased down a bit, his head against Bruce’s forearm so that Bruce can look at him. Jason’s heart seizes a bit; Bruce’s face is streaked with tears. He wets his lips. Bruce probably won’t take this well, either. “Promise me you’ll cremate me. A-As soon as I’m dead. Promise me you won’t bring me back.”

Bruce’s whole body shudders faintly. “What….what are you talking about–”

“You can’t,” Jason wheezes, starting to cry. He doesn’t know why the thought suddenly occurred to him, but now it’s all he can think about, a pressing, real fear that’s a vice around his failing heart. He can’t do it. He can’t be pulled away from his dad’s arms to drift off into emptiness again, only to wake up screaming as his body is torn apart to put it back together. He can’t have his mind like that again. He can’t do it. He just can’t. “I don’t want to do it again, B, please. Promise me you won’t try to get me back, please, please just let–” he chokes on blood and snot. His stomach is probably in shreds now, based off how it feels, and more tears spill out at the thought of it. “Just let me go.”

A gloved hand on his cheek. “Shhh, Jason, calm down, please hold still–”

Promise, B!”

Bruce hefts him back up again, and Jason feels a big hand cradling the back of his head. “I–” Bruce swallows, crying too. “I p-promise, Jason. I–I won’t.”

Bruce is crying too hard to speak, and so’s Jason, but he still tries to flop his numb arm up towards Bruce. Bruce catches it, pulls Jason’s hand in against his chestplate, to his heart.

Bruce lifts his head, and Jason thinks he hears something. Maybe the dull boom of an explosion. The others, maybe. Hopefully.

“Please,” Bruce whispers, into Jason’s ear. “Please wait.”

It kind of seems like Bruce said that uncertain of whether Jason could still actually hear him or not. It’s okay. He heard it. And he’ll try. It didn’t make a difference last time. But he’ll still do it. Bruce orders most of the time, and Jason still tried to obey, when it made sense. When Bruce asks…Jason tries.

(Ao3 link here.) [For @camsthisky’s content war.]

talking about which part of appearance taemin would like to brag…

taemin: these days I’m doing many exercise so whenever I get out of the shower my shoulders…
heechul: you should show us
taemin: ah no… my eyes
dongyup: just one side … one side
taemin: no no no
heechul: henry also show us his nostrils, you should too
taemin: but my clothes … impossible
dongyup: just once…

*shows shoulder*

taemin: ah… this is embarassing 6v6;;

translation not 100% accurate

New Rules | 2

After the incident at the bar you decide to confront Yoongi.

Originally posted by jitonic

pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: smut, angst
word count: 4K
cw: smut, dirty talk etcetcetc

chapter song: First Fuck - 6LACK, Jhene Aiko


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The moment of sudden clarity when feelings are finally recognized, or are made aware for the first time.

It hit you on a Wednesday evening while you were at the gym as per usual. School was killing you, but you were determined to stick with your workout schedule, even if it meant sleeping an hour less or watching one less episode of your current favorite kdrama. Just exactly why were you so passionate about working out?


[7:33PM] Jeon: If you’re not here in 5 minutes then YOU owe ME all you can eat KBBQ. 


[7:33PM] Jeon: AND ice cream.

It was as simple as that – you just couldn’t, wouldn’t, lose this bet with Jeon Jungkook. 

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anonymous asked:

We can't presume shit about Death Stranding, because Kojima hasn't shown us anything beyond (pretty creative and weird) trailers.

Yeah but there’s definite gameplay stuff being put in them.

Like, the fact your wrist band is your life bar, and the shoulder flappy arm is an enemy detector

In fact I bet the game has no UI at all.

If we continue the logic that death/rebirth will be an in-universe thing, that’d make the whole ‘kill yourself over capture’ shit even crazier cause with no UI you have to COUNT BULLETS if using a gun.

{ glory and gore }

pairing: lafferson x reader

au: vampire 

t/w: bit of fighting

a/n: this took forever lol but it’s done!!! enjoy!

please like or reblog this so i can tag you for the next parts :)

inbox || masterlist


Your entire world changed when two men came to your door. They knocked quietly at first, but the knocking grew louder with each second that went by. It was loud, incessant, until finally your husband got up to answer it. You stayed where you were in the kitchen, drying off the plates you had used for dinner. 

You glanced up at the door every so often. The quiet whispers near the door intrigued you. You peeked out to get a glimpse of who had entered your home. 

There was two men. It was rare for you to have guests here and especially here so late.

Even though you don’t have guests often, there was a specific routine that you were follow. Proper etiquette that you your mother had drilled within you. Ben led them to the parlor to chat. You would come out, introduce yourself, ask if they needed anything, be a good hostess, then disappear once more. Slip away so the men could talk. 

The men sat in the parlor, chatting aimlessly as expected. You tried to listen in every so often, but it was hard to determine what they were saying.

Your curiosity got the best of you. You peeked into the parlor slightly. Your husband sat in his arm chair, cigar in his mouth, leaning back in the seat comfortably. The two men sat on the couch. The one with his hair pulled back looked around your home absentmindedly, fiddled with his hands. The other looked right at you as he was talking to your husband.

You felt your blood turn cold.

You retreated back into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall, closed your eyes. Tried to listen from where you were. You put the dish you were holding down on the counter before coming back against the wall to listen.

Suddenly, you heard a crash from the living room. You rushed out of the kitchen and your eyes widened when you saw the coffee table was broken in half. The wood was split and three out of four wooden legs were broken. Your husband’s cigar was now on the coffee table and the man with the wild curly hair was holding your husband up by the throat.

“W-What are you doing?!” You screamed.

“Your leech of a husband,” The man snarled. “Forgot to pay his dues.”

The other man looked at you before he looked at the taller man. They spoke quietly in another language. You snapped out of it when you heard your husband gasping for air.

“Please, put him down! I-I’ll give you whatever you want! Just please he -”

The man slowly started to set him down. You let out a sigh of relief, convinced he would be gentler with your husband. Instead, he threw your husband to the other side of the room, rattling the paintings that hung along that wall. Ben slumped to the floor with a loud groan.


You started to rush to your husband’s side until someone grabbed the collar of your dress. You whimpered as the man pressed you up against the wall. You looked at your husband mournfully. He was suddenly so far.

He looked at you curiously, held you up to his view. The longer he stared, the more nervous you felt. Finally, you found the courage to speak.

“Do you plan to k-kill me?” You whispered, voice trembling a little.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He muttered, tightening his grip on you. You let out a quiet yelp as his nails dug into your skin. “Laf? Keep an eye on him.”

You started to turn your head to look at the other man–this Laf–but you couldn’t. “Eyes here.” He forced you to look at him, leaned in closer to you.

“Please let me go.” You breathed out. “I didn’t -”

Laf moved away from your husband then looked up at you. “Thomas, who is this delightful creature?”

“Bastard’s wife.” Thomas grumbled.

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Laf mused. He wrapped his arms around Thomas’ waist, leaned his chin on his shoulder. Laf ducked his head into Thomas’ neck and hummed.

You looked between the two nervously. “Who are you two? My husband never mentioned you.” 

“Do you believe in monsters?” Laf whispered, looking at you curiously.

“L-Like the devil?” You asked quietly.

“You believe in the devil,” Thomas laughed, tilted his head. “How cute.” Thomas turned and glanced at Laf. “She’s young. Smells fresh.” He leaned in close, nosed at your neck. “You may be more valuable than I thought.”

“If I told you what we really are,He emphasized. “Would you believe me? If I told you there’s an entirely different world of creatures of the night, far worse than the devil,” He snarled. “What would you do?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” You whispered.

“If you can believe in God and the devil, surely you can believe in us.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“You’ll have to.” He purred, stroking your cheek. “You don’t have a choice.”

“We’re vampires, darling.” Laf smiled at you.

“Vampires in need of a new source.” Thomas emphasized. “And since you’re here and you’re willing to do anything to save your husband,” Thomas tightened his hold on you. “Your blood would be enough.”

You looked up at him in fear.

“P-Please, no. There must be something else.”

You watched as your husband stood to his feet. He had managed to reach the metal rod near the fireplace. His eyes were dark, focused on solely one thing. Your husband staggered to reach Laf, and slowly brought his arms over his head, then down to strike him.

Both men turned, but Thomas moved faster.

He moved at lightning speed. He dropped you in a moment and stood in front of Laf. He grabbed the metal rod from your husband’s hands, didn’t hesitate to take the rod from him and strike him in the side with it. Thomas easily knocked him to the floor. You watched as your husband coughed harshly, rolled back over onto his side in pain.

You watched in horror and slowly slumped down to the floor. You cupped your hand over your mouth, let out a quiet sob.

“You want to cooperate now?” Thomas chuckled, resting the metal bar against his shoulder. He looked down at you, caught a glimpse of your teary eyes and the heartbroken look on your face.

“M-My blood in exchange for what?” You said, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Laf spoke up. “We will leave your husband alone. You will leave this all behind and will belong to us. We will give you protection.”

“Protection?” Your tone softened. “Y-You come into my home, you attack my husband, and you think that this…offer is going to fix everything?!” Your lower lip trembled. “You’re sick.”

“I’m taking what belongs to me.” Thomas growled.

“I don’t belong to you.”

“You do now. You looking for someone to blame? Blame your husband. If he just -”

Laf warned him to soften his tone.

He sighed, took a moment to change his words. 

“A source is a source. We will need you alive.” Thomas said bluntly. “Protection is the least we can do.”

You looked down at your husband. “Just don’t hurt him. No more.”

“Deal.” Thomas extended his hand to you. Drops of your husband’s blood was on his hand. You stared at him for the longest time in disgust, fury, and rage. Eventually, you took his hand. Shook it firmly.

“I’m Thomas.” He said, lifting you to your feet. He was surprisingly strong. “This is Laf.”

“(Y/N).” Your eyes looked back to your husband. He was still on his side, in deep pain. His breathing was shallow and his hands were still cradling his ribs. 

“What will you do with him?” You whispered, eyes watering. When you looked up at Thomas, he whispered something under his breath, snapped his fingers, and everything went black.

You felt your body weaken. You slumped in Laf’s arms.

Laf carried you bridal style out of the house. Thomas closed the front door quietly, followed Laf to the car.

“He won’t remember a thing.” He said softly, opening up the back door of the car. Laf placed you in the backseat of the sleek, white automobile. He stepped away and shut the door. He slipped the money and the checks in the pocket of his coat. He straightened out the sleeves of his jacket before patting Laf’s shoulder. Thomas opened the door to the passenger seat, helped Laf in before he got into the driver’s seat and started up the car.

Laf looked over at Thomas in the moonlight. The lights of the car glowed, lit up the way. Thomas pulled out of the driveway of your home, moved onto the busy streets.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “What do you need?”

“Nothing.” Laf whispered. “Just thinking about her.”

“What’s there to think about?” Thomas said. “She’s healthy. She’s young so she’ll last. Most of all, she’s not sick. If she’s not worth it, we’ll just discard her like the rest.”

Thomas always made things sound so simple, made the impossible seem possible, made the hardest of tasks sound like a casual pastime. Laf couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He leaned over and kissed Thomas’ cheek. He pulled away to see what he had done.

Thomas’ face doesn’t change much—there’s the slight quirk of his eyebrows, the little smile there, the faintest bit of blush that Laf’s learned to look for. It’s enough to make him smile. He can see bits of the man he first met so many centuries ago, the man that he’s still in love with.

Laf smile widened, clearly satisfied. He looked back at you–your body, your face–before looking out at the open road ahead of him.

snowfox24imcompletetrash  asked:

How would Tale, Fell, and Horror Grillby(if you do them that is) react if some douche bag tried to throw a bucket of water on Fuku to see what would happen, only to have S/O push Fuku out of the way of the splash and get soaked themselves? How would the flame Bois react to S/O chewing out the person who tried to throw water on a flame like, "What do you mean you wanted to know what would happen!? You could have killed them!!" and just overall being ready to slap a bitch?


Grillby steps up to your side, glowering at the douche from beneath his fogged glasses.  His silence is intimidating, but everyone can hear his crackling growing into a roaring fire.  The heat has considerably risen within the bar.  

The offender gulps, no longer finding their curiosity amusing.  Grillby extends a finger toward the door, and they trip over themselves in their haste to flee, while everyone remains staring at the three of you.  

Fuku is grateful, although states that it wouldn’t kill her–magic, and all that.  It would, however, be unpleasant.  

Grillby looks over your drenched attire, and you can see his features soften; you know him well enough to pick up on this subtle cues and read his face.  

“…….thank you,” he murmurs, his voice distorted, even though his crackling rage has eased.  "let’s…. get you dried off.“

He escorts you upstairs.


Instantly, the bar is an inferno.  

Fellby’s got a jagged, white hot smirk as he glares down his wire-rimmed glasses at the offender.  He’s impressed by your fortitude; the fact that you stood up for his niece means that you’ve got guts, and that’s admirable where he’s from.  Of course, he picked you as his S/O because he saw the fire within your SOUL, and it was enough to make him actually settle down and stop flirting with other people.  

He steps up to your side and reaches out clasp his hand on the jerk’s shoulder.  There’s no mirth within his burning gaze, yet his smirk is bemused.  The offender hisses, trying to pull away, but Fellby holds tight.  Smoke and wisps of violet embers rise from the flame elemental’s touch.  

”…..get out while you still can… or else… i’ll let my flame tear you apart.“  He tilts his head toward you to indicate he’s referring to you, and the offender glances toward your pissed expression.  They quickly realize they’ve chosen the wrong group to mess with, and what started off as drunken wonderment has now got them stone cold sober and scared shitless.

Is that the scent of burning flesh?  

They scramble out of the bar, clutching their shoulder.  Fellby turns to sweep you into his arms, pulling you flush against him.  Steam rises from where your wet clothes meet his flames.  

The night only gets steamier from there.



Grillby lumbers over you, his face contorted in its usual grimace as he turns to the person you’re chewing out.  His hands rest on your shoulders, but his flames don’t burn you; however, steam does begin to rise from between his fingers thanks to your wet clothes.  

The red bird monster squawks a translation:  "GRILLBY SAYS YOU FUCKED UP!“

Grillby proceeds to grab the person over his head effortlessly (even if his magic is depleting, leaving him eternally burning, he’s still got incredible strength), holding their shoulders with one hand and their hips with the other.  They flail, and he chunks them onto the grill.  

*You guys have seen how horrifying HT!Grillbz is, right?  I love him.  Even if he does kinda break my heart. 

(*Mobile Imagine Masterlist)

Johnny Cade~Drunk

89-“Kiss me.”


90-“You’re drunk.”

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight?” You asked Johnny as you leant against the bar. He shrugged his shoulders, “Dal convinced me to come.” You nodded your head in acknowledgment.

“I’ll see ya later Johnnycakes, gonna go get drunk.” You mumbled the last part under your breath as you left him and went to the back were Dally and Two-Bit were getting drunk already.

“Pass me a bottle would ya Two?” You asked reaching your hand out towards him. He passed you a bottle happily and continued rambling about Mickey.

You stumbled up to the lot where you knew Johnny would be. Walking here you had sobered up but you reeked of alcohol.

“Johnny?” You asked quietly squinting to see who was on the car seat.


“Can I stay out here with you tonight?”

“Sure (Y/N).” You smiled and leant your head on his shoulder.  You turned your head up to look at him; your faces were inches apart. “Kiss me.” You whispered and stared into his eyes.

“You’re drunk.” He protested.

“I don’t need to be sober to know I love you Johnnycakes.” You smirked patting his cheek lightly.

“You’re drunk (Y/N), I don’t want you to regret doing this.”

You sighed and lied down on the abandoned car seats pulling Johnny to lay down with you. “Cuddle with me then.”

Great Chemistry (Part 2)

Summary: After years of auditions and small acting jobs, you finally get picked to play the female lead in a major spy movie: Rogue Agency. Suddenly you find out that the actor playing the male lead and love interest is none other than Sebastian Stan himself. Throughout the story you go through the motions of filming a movie and come to find out that you and Seb have great chemistry. Do you take the leap and let yourself fall in love with your costar?

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 3,197

Warnings: Fluff, cussing (?), fake violence (you’ll get it)

A/N: Okay, I lied. I’m posting sooner than I thought lol, but I’m sure that will make you guys happy haha. This one is a bit longer because I was super into writing it and couldn’t stop like all day. I hope I do Sebastian justice I love him so much. 


Originally posted by vintagefangirll

A few weeks after the table reading…

Keep reading

One Step Too Far

Originally posted by kcismyreligion

Pairing: Bellamy / Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, swearing… 

AN: I have been deserted by my writing muse for a long time, all of sudden though this afternoon she came flying back home so expect a few more post in the next few days… so many ideas to get down onto paper (well computer paper) 

My masterlist is over here…. MASTERLIST 

And my taglist is over here…. TAGLIST 

@the-chosen-one-time-lord @no-other-names-availible-blog @angelaiswriting @selldraug @Angryares @thenovarose @georgiagrl1990 @punk-rock-5-sos @mindofthescattered @dontstopxx @iamabeautifulperson18 @madelinecraig03 @ka-x-in @im-hurric4ne @mesmericbell @something–awesome @weirdpotato-14 @putinontheritzz @soulslaststand @fuckthatfeeling @ember1201 @morganlb23 @Maria-Tifa @kitkatbadass @cordelia-stark-jones @tomhopperarms @fakingintrest @artprincessbree @dreamer-lover-laughter @artprincessbree @rime-warrior @captainvaneswife @jaib2-blog @kapolisradomthoughts @thingsandstuffienjoy @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @aya-fay @itsbubbaog @hp-hogwartsexpress @emmykinzs @thatbadassunicorn @sassywingednightmare @coffeebooksandfandom @diaryoftherealme @blusnowflakee @ineedyourloveandsupport @neverunderestimateacelt @kalliria @cynicalricin @itsbubbaog @demoninyourshadow @xoxoalisonjane @bubbly-binka @justsomeboringperson @emmykinzs @lifeisforlosers @emmadubbeldam @aurelche @lesdragly

“You know Bellamy actually looks like his head might explode soon watching you here, acting like you don’t care”

Raven was smiling at the words she was saying, you however were not finding them funny in the slightest “why exactly would he look like that?”

Raven’s eyebrows rose “Oh come on Y/N you know exactly why. Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t work on me”

“Nope, I’m drawing a blank”

Raven just stared at you this time, because, of course, you knew exactly why Bellamy was staring at you like that, you just weren’t willing to in anyway acknowledge him. In fact, you were doing a very good job of completely ignoring the man behind you trying to burn his gaze into your back.

“Y/N you’re a terrible liar you know that?”

“I can’t deal with his anger Raven” you admitted. A small crack appeared in your emotional armour that was threatening to break apart any minute now. “I’m barely dealing with everything that’s happening around us right now. I don’t need to try and figure out his motives at the moment, I just can’t take that on as well”

Raven reached out to lace her fingers with your own. “No one understands what’s happening right now” she admitted eyes flicking over your shoulder to look at Bellamy once more. “Especially with him”

Downing the rest of the moonshine in your glass in a large gulp you slid off your stool giving Raven a small smile. “I can’t be here right now Raven. I’ll see you later”

“Alright” she paused “It will work out, won’t it?” she asked you “everything will work out?”

“I don’t know” the two of you stared at each other a wealth of emotion passing between you before you shrugged one shoulder and turned to leave.

You left Raven in the mess room stopping on your journey back out only for a moment when you reached where Murphy was sat with some other men deep in whispered conversation. A conversation you were fairly certain you didn’t want to know anything about. You bent over his shoulder to kiss his stubbled cheek.

“I’m going to bed John. See you tomorrow”

He turned his head towards you cupping your cheek in his hand, not at all happy about the shadows and darkness he could see in your eyes. “Alright darling” he glanced over to where Bellamy was sat eyes still narrowed and focused on you. “Are you sure I can’t kill him? Maim him? Just hurt him a little?”

That made you smile. “I told you the first time as much as I appreciate the offer I’d rather not have you in a jail cell as well. At the moment you’re one of the only people I love who aren’t behind jail cell bars”

He sighed “If you say so darling, if you change your mind though…”

“I’ll know who to come to”

With a final smile at John you left the mess room heading back to your room. You’d walked these corridors hundreds of times before, ever since the remains of the Ark had crashed to the ground and the delinquents had been taken back in by the so called civilised people.

It had been before though, before Wanheda, farm station and Chancellor Pike. It had been before he had… before you had lost him completely. Lost Bellamy to the poison of Pikes sermons.

Making a split-second decision you reversed directions and headed away from your room and instead towards the holding cells that had suddenly become very full

A guard was posted on the entrance and he stared suspiciously at you as you approached him.

“Let me through”

“Y/N I can’t, you’re not authorised to be in there… with them”

“Oh fuck off Jackson. You’re no more a guard than I am” he cringed at you words shuffling on his feet. “Let me through” when he continued to simply wriggle your eyes narrowed “NOW Jackson”

“Fine, fine. Only 5 minutes”

Jackson opened the door and you went through into the holding cells quickly finding where Lincoln was sat, head resting in his hands. Your father was sat next to him mirroring his pose quite successfully.

“Lincoln, dad” their heads snapped up to look at you.

“Y/N what are you doing in here?” Marcus demanded “It isn’t safe for you to be around us”

“It’s fine. Jackson is on the door and he won’t do anything”


“No dad. I’m fine” you insisted sitting down in front of the bars to their cell. It was Lincoln who tried next, his voice remarkably steady considering he looked like he’d been hit by a truck. Dried blood and bruising covering his skin.

“Y/N you can’t be here. You know the only reason you’re not behind these bars with us is Bellamy. Without that protection you’re only one step away from being locked up yourself”


“Y/N” Marcus moved this time coming over to the bars “Don’t you dare say that. Do you know how powerful we can be with you on the outside?”

“I don’t have any power dad” you let your forehead rest against the bars of the cells. “I’m watched constantly, followed most of the time wherever I go. There’s nothing I can do”

“You can talk to Bellamy get him…”

“NO!” you interrupted him instantly. “I can’t get through to him anymore. I don’t know if I want to after what he did”

“Y/N” it was Lincoln again his head reaching through the cell bars to squeeze your shoulder. “We need Bellamy back on our side”

“He won’t listen to me” you continued to insist “not anymore”

Your conversation was cut off by the door of the holding cells opening. You jumped up from the floor pressing your back against the bars, feeling Lincoln and your father standing close behind you.

“Y/N you shouldn’t be here”

Bellamy came into view and you tensed almost automatically. You did not want to be in this situation right now. With him in front of you.

“Why? Going to lock me up as well Blake?”

“Y/N” Marcus hissed from behind you as Bellamy continued to stand there an expression like a kicked puppy on his face.

“Or will you just shoot me? After all guns do tend to be your solution recently”

He visibly flinched this time, obviously unwilling to hear what he had done come from your mouth. “Y/N”

“I can’t be here anymore. Around you” turning away from him you quickly said goodbye to Lincoln and your father leaving the detention cell. Unfortunately you could still hear footsteps behind you. Meaning someone was definitely following you. See as two of the people had been in a cell that left only a single person it could be.

“You need to leave me alone Bellamy”

“I did this to protect us Y/N why can’t you see that”

“I’m so sorry that I can’t understand the slaughter of 300 people was done to protect me”

“The grounders don’t want to protect us Y/N”

You were biting your lip trying desperately to not snap. You did not want to have this conversation with Bellamy. Not now, not ever.

The emotional armour you’d constructed ever since life started to go to hell was definitely starting to crack. It was going to split and your rage, pain, sadness and despair were going to come flooding out. You could not have that breakdown in the corridor though. Speeding up you almost ran towards your rooms.

Bellamy followed you the whole way shadowing your every step. “Y/N will you please just talk to me?”

“About what Bellamy? What do you want to talk about? How you locked up my father and my friend? How your broke my heart into tiny little pieces? Or how you helped slaughter 300 innocent people here to protect us? Which one should we talk about first?”

You’d reached your rooms and pushed your way in Bellamy predictably following you.

“You know you’re not exactly blameless in all of this Y/N”

“Excuse me?”

He slammed the door shut behind him. “How long did it take exactly before you jumped into bed with Murphy?”

“Really?” how had you known that would eventually come up. “I’m friends with John. I’ve known him since we were children” you rubbed at your temples fighting against the massive headache that was building up. “He’s more like a brother to me. Which even if you did deserve an explanation doesn’t change what you did Bellamy!”

“Why can’t you see that I did this to protect you”

“Safe from what Bell? Can you not see that you killed an army here to protect us all?”

Bellamy took a few steps forwards grabbing onto your upper arms tightly. “This doesn’t have to be this way Y/N. Please don’t…”

You lifted your hand placing your fingers over his lips cutting off his words. “This will be this way Bellamy. I’m sorry but it’s already done”

“I love you Y/N”

The softly whispered words finished off your resistance. The armour cracked completely and grief poured out tempered with furious rage. “You love me!? You don’t get to fucking say that anymore Bellamy. You locked up my father. How did you think that was going to affect us? That I was just going to smile and accept it?”

“I don’t know” he admitted sadly. “I didn’t think…”

“Damn right you didn’t think” you yanked yourself out of his grasp. “Right now Bell I’m struggling every day to remain calm enough not to take that gun from your belt and put a bullet in Chancellor fucking Pike’s brain. It would be better for everyone”

“Y/N for fuck sake you can’t say that”

“I can say that Bell” you insisted “I can say that because I’ve not been brainwashed into suddenly believing our friends are going to try and kill us” you were shouting you realised. Trying to take a deep breath you forced down some of the anger. “You need to leave”


“Please Bell, just… leave”

“I’m not just giving up on us Y/N. No matter what you think everything I’ve done has been to keep you safe. I’m going to keep doing that”

You couldn’t answer that, couldn’t think of words to express even half of what you were feeling. Bellamy grabbed you once more kissing you roughly before leaving in a whirl of motion that left your head spinning, lips tingling and your heart pounding.

Completely confused and unknowing of what to do next your legs simply gave way, falling to the floor you felt tears coming to your eyes. You hadn’t cried yet, hadn’t cried since the world went to hell once more. It was coming now though, as sobs racked your body.

You stayed there huddled on the floor shaking with tears as all those emotions you’d locked away finally had their revenge and left you stuck there, held motionless and broken.