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ode2rin · 1 day

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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)

You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior.

And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.

Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.

Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.

Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself.

He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.

The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any.

There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.

“Are we… alright?” he drawled.

What the fuck. He did not just sound like that.

He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.

Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.

“Okay, Rin.”

That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?

“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.

You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)

“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”

“You so are!”

“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”

There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.

“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”

“Not to you, it’s not!”

A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting.

Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”

“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.

With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.”

“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.

“I’m not childish.”

“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”

Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.

“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind.

“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.

The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit.

They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.

He was now something more, something special.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.

It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for.

Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you.

It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim.

You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.

Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”

“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.

note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.

#☁️ my ode to you #i have more drabbles like this i am fucking insane about him #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi

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destructive-poet · 3 days

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Getting Even

astarion x gn! human tav hurt/comfort (~1.5k words)

This display of tenderness makes Astarion’s innards tremble in a weird, crawling sort of way– foreign enough, but not entirely unpleasant. Despite this, he remains quiet and relaxes his breath instead, deciding he would rather focus on the ugly, tangible sensation of his torn flesh being prodded."

astarion gets hurt. astarion is a moody bitch about getting hurt. unnamed gn tav apologizes by letting him suck their neck.

rating: mature

warnings: slight slight description of wounds

minors dni!

“Astarion?” Came a voice at the draped-down entrance of his tent, accompanied by the sound of distant waters and the crackling of a small fire. Night had long since fallen, and the voices of allies had slowly reduced to only the barest hints of conversations, seemingly muffled by the darkness. “Could I come in?”

The elf grimaces, jaw clenched tight as he lets out a simmering, discontented agreement, narrowing his eyes (though whether this is out of pain or annoyance, he himself is uncertain of). Of course, of all the times they could bother him, the ignorant wretch waits until he is despairing on the wooden plank he calls a “bed,” fists clenching the ragged blanket so tightly the worn fabric is liable to disintegrate, to come knocking at his door. The muscles in his side are wound so tight he fears they may snap. But yes, let’s have a visitor.

They gingerly push the thick tent door to the side, stepping in with caution to observe his state. “Are you okay?” Their eyes scan across him, taking note of the way he breathes, shallow and fast, not unlike an injured animal. Mess is strewn about the tent, and the vampire attempts to mask the obvious pain on his face. Unsuccessfully, but the party leader thinks it a noble attempt nonetheless.

His eyes meet theirs, glowering.

“No, of course I’m okay,” He grits out, “Just nearly impaled a few hours ago! But yes, darling. I’m fine. A mere scratch.” He seethes. They frown, scrunching their brows. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. You know that...” Astarion glares in return, shuffling a little in his spot and then pointedly pouting at the wall.

They settle down onto the floor, pulling a woven bag from off their shoulders and setting it onto the ground, shuffling through it until they retrieve a small jar. “Salve. I went out and bought it for you.” The party leader states, gesturing the product towards him.

The vampire huffs, though shows no reluctance in letting them move closer, before their hands pause at the hem of his shirt, loose and untucked above a pair of cotton pants. “Can I lift your shirt to put it on?” They ask, looking at him. He grumbles out a yes, scoffing. As they shift the cloth up and away, revealing a gruesome puncture wound, he grimaces, moving back at the sensation. “It’s okay,” they say, reassuring, “this should help.” They hold up the salve once again. “It should numb and disinfect your wound. Do you want it?”

He nods, and they take a rag from their bag, gesturing it at him. “Want me to put it on, or do you want to do it yourself?” The party leader looks at him with worn eyes, tired and ragged by the troubles of their journey. Briefly, the elf’s eyes soften in response, before he exhales and mutters a yes. He sighs, “You may.”

They quickly begin their work, trying to apply the medicine as smoothly and painlessly as possible, only resulting in a few, minor winces of pain from the man laying aside them. “My sweet thing,” they whisper, “you’ll be okay.” Their free hand slowly comes to rest on his face, and they briefly rub his cheekbone. “It should be better very, very soon.” This display of tenderness makes Astarion’s innards tremble in a weird, crawling sort of way– foreign enough, but not entirely unpleasant. Despite this, he remains quiet and relaxes his breath instead, deciding he would rather focus on the ugly, tangible sensation of his torn flesh being prodded. When the human finishes tending to him and sets their items back in the bag, he feels relief. Finally, the pressure is taken off of his injury, and is instead replaced by a numb and somewhat minty sensation.

And though the pain is not completely gone, it is much better, and he has the strength now to sit up straighter, carefully observing his human rummaging through that ragged bag again, eyes flickering with reflections of a candle nearby. “Thank you, by the way. Sorry I was being a little bit… Difficult, earlier.” He states, quietly, and they nod it off, continuing to search their belongings, focused. He is about to call their name out again when they straighten up in relief, grabbing a little shimmering object in their closed hand and moving it into his.

“I found this earlier. I thought you might like it.”

In Astarion’s palm, now, is a little ring, embellished with white stones and gold trimmings. He turns it over, feeling the cool weight of it in his palm. His eyes flicker up to them, and he lets out a breathy laugh. A warm feeling settles in his chest, and he swallows it back. “Well, thank you, sweet. You do know just how to cheer me up.”

“No big deal, just reminded me of you. I took it from a skeleton.” They shrug, attempting to play the gesture off as casual, ashamed to admit how much they had hoped he would like it. The vampire hmphs, grinning. “That’s my little scavenger. Always bringing me the prettiest things. This one is almost as pretty as you.”

They smile, humming. “Then it must be impossibly distant from comparing to you, hm?” A blush and a laugh, they move closer to him, reaching back to cradle his face in their hands. “You are my love, much more valuable than any gold. I’m so sorry you got hurt today.” They press a kiss to his forehead, stroking his hair and leaning back, eyes tearing up.

Astarion looks at them, unsure of what to say, feeling very present in an overwhelming (but not undesired) moment of softness. Away from crypts and castles and temples, rugged stone walls and painful, visceral struggles. Briefly, he lets himself imagine a softer life, made of blankets and forehead kisses, of thick draped curtains over glass windows teeming with morning sun. The human by his side, warmth, kindness, contentedness.

“It’s alright.” He says, reaching to hold their hand, feeling its energy thrum against his own. They sniffle, resting down by his side. “Are you hungry?”

His stomach churns, and he bitterly realizes that yes, indeed, he is. “No, darling, it’s really alright. I’ve got a bottle of something or another around here.”

“Astarion.” They say, unconvinced. “It’s no trouble. I like it.” The vampire smirks, and they quickly backtrack. “I mean— Whatever. You know what I mean. It’s not about that. Not…” They sigh, closing their eyes. “Not like that now.”

He sighs exasperatedly in return, teasingly. “Well, if you insist… Since it so delights you-” They narrow their eyes at him, huffing. “Apologies, apologies. But yes, My sweet, if you would like to give me such a delicious meal, I would be very grateful.”

“Well, I’m glad you are back to your normal, mischievous self.” They mutter, sitting up to beckon him towards their neck, skin luminous in the dimly lit tent. “Go ahead, I don’t bite.” They say, giggling at their own joke. “As you wish, darling.” He firmly grabs onto them, one hand digging into the soft warmth of their waist, while the other pulls their neck into his jaw. He hesitates, mouth watering at the scent of his beloved companion’s thrumming pulse. “Is this alright?”

“Yes yes, I promise,” A reassuring hand cups the back of his head, “You’re alright, come on.” He hums, pressing an open kiss to their skin, and the human lays a milder one upon his hair, making a breathy noise that jolts into a gasp as his fangs punch into them, and they jerk in his grasp briefly before melting back into him, the teeth quickly replaced by a tongue soothing over the spot. “Thank you,” he whispers, between sucks and licks, drinking in their blood like the finest wine, like the last drops of water in sweltering heat. His human makes a little noise, fingers weaving into his hair and tugging him closer, and he feels them swallow.

He groans, laving against the wound. “Good job, such a good little treat.” They nod, and he continues drinking his fill. Right as they start to feel dizzy, Astarion pulls off, licking his lips and looking up to them, kissing first the holes in their neck, then the edge of their jaw, and then the swell of their lips.

They meet his kiss before slumping into his arms, breathing slowly, relaxed. “Are we even now?” They ask, softly. “A wound for a wound?”

A gentle laugh and a cool touch pulls them to lay down, resting against his side. “Yes, darling, we’re even.”

#astarion #ao3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #hurt/comfort

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thewertsearch · 2 days

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TG: i thought about taking his sword TG: when i was there TG: but i couldnt TG: couldnt really bring myself to try to pull it out it was too weird

Even if you did, you’d have to break it in order to wield it - and unlike your regenerating sword, I don't think Bro's katana will be very effective as a half-blade.

GG: dave we have to stop him!!!!! TG: what GG: jack! […] GG: why dont you stop jumping around through time like a maniac and stop being like a hundred daves all the time and come to my house so we can make a plan to kill him??

I’m liking this new, more pro-active Jade. With Rose distracted by Doc Scratch's games, we probably need a new leader, and I think Jade could fit the bill.

However, I don’t think any number of Daves would be enough to take Jack down. That’s exactly what Aradia tried, and we all know how that turned out. If a thousand telekinetic necromancers can't put a scratch on him, I don't think Dave will fare much better.

TG: besides we cant beat him TG: look what he did to bro and davesprite together TG: im at the top of my echeladder with all the fraymotifs and i stand no chance

Dave’s already stronger than Future Dave was when he came back to the past. His progress is astounding - but the session's power creep has got so bad that it doesn’t even matter.

Like - let's imagine, for a second, that all four kids attacked Jack with their full power, right now. If they all synergized perfectly, taking full advantage of John's hurricanes, Rose's Horrorterror connections, and all the time duplicates Dave can make....

They'd still be reduced to a fine mist.

Jack has inherited a power strong enough to raze the entire Earth, and none of the kids can touch him. Becsprite initially seemed like an opportunity to match that power, Sun-to-Sun, but Vriska, for her own godforsaken reasons, nixed that plan.

The kids have got nothing. Even their plan to cheat by destroying the Green Sun is probably hopeless, because we know it ultimately serves Doc Scratch's ends, not ours. Things are really dire.

TG: only thing we can do is hold out until the scratch GG: what is the scratch? TG: guess i shouldnt really say TG: since you sort of lead the way in making that plan

And then there's the Scratch plan itself, which is apparently Jade's idea - although I'd be extremely surprised if Doc's grubby little fingers weren't all over this one, too.

Opening rifts in space is certainly Jade's department, so I think she's going to suggest it as a counter-plan to Rose's more risky Sun strategy.

TG: if we cant beat him TG: all we can really do is exile him to a place where he cant teleport back TG: which hopefully buys us some time TG: to try to take out his power source in a crazy suicide mission

A two-pronged approach, then. They trigger the Scratch, push Jack through a rift, and then send Rose's dream self out to destroy the sun before he's able to return.

...man, this is such a dangerous idea. Even if it wasn't being influenced by Doc, it'd still set off some huge alarm bells.

Like - sure, destroying the Green Sun might help this session survive, but what about every other session? Don't they need the Sun, to power their non-corrupted First Guardians? I just think we should maybe think for a second before deleting a critical piece of the reproductive mechanism for the entire multiverse.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s109 #3204

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daydreams-after-dark · 8 hours

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SMUT WARNING // MDNI ⚠️ scientist!Chan (Chris) x test subject fem!reader

Scientist Christopher is doing experiments on making pussies come. He has a range of devices (vibrating devices) that he uses on his subject each night, and you’re his favourite subject.

Approx 5 minute read

Unhinged level 🤡🤡🤡

CW: master/sub type role, sex experiments, sex toys, praise, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie.

Every night he sets you up on the bed that’s situated in his office and gets you to spread really wide, sometimes putting your legs in stirrups. It always starts with a “hole inspection” before moving onto the “stimulation phase”.

Sometimes he uses a small and intense vibrating device on your clitoris, with no other stimulation, and he doesn’t take it away after you come.

Sometimes his goal is to make you come as fast as possible.

Other times he sees how long he can edge you, using a variety of devices. He watches intensely, taking notes on how the stimulation affects you. It usually reduces you to a whimpering, begging, mess.

And sometimes he wants to see how many orgasms he can get out of you. The record is eleven.

But tonight when you arrive he wants to try something completely different. Instead of having you lay on the bed, he gets you to sit on his desk, legs spread wide for him.

You notice he looks unusually disheveled and flustered tonight, as he lowers his chair so his face is at a better level to view your pussy.

“As usual let’s start by seeing how wet you are. Prop your feet up on the desk.” He taps the top of the desk. You comply. You’re so exposed, as usual. And you’re wet, as usual.

“Fuck!” Chris whispers as he spreads your pussy lips apart and runs the pad of his thumb against your opening and dragging it up to your clit.

You moan and lean back on your elbows. “Fuck, Sir… feels good.” You whimper.

Chris looks up and meets your gaze and you can’t help but beg with your eyes for him to make you come.

“You know,” he says quietly and licks his lips as his eyes go back to your dripping pussy. “There’s still something we need to check that we haven’t checked before. Do you know what that could be?”

“N-no… I don’t, Sir.” You stammer.

Chris slides two fingers inside your cunt and starts to dig against your gspot. You cry out at the sensation. It immediately brings you so close to climaxing.

“We need to see if this pussy can take cock.” He said matter of factly, removing his fingers and leaving you feeling empty. Empty and fucking desperate.

“I need to see if it can be done? Can we try?” He asks. He always asks when introducing a new stimulus.

You nod profusely. “Yes sir… please… see if it can take cock.”

Chris stands up in front of you and unbuckles his belt. You have never seen his dick, but you’ve seen the bulge in his trousers countless times before when he’s worked his experiments on you.

Your eyes widen when you see it. Thick. Long. Full. Veiny. How the fuck was it ever going to fit?

“We need to go slowly to ensure you stretch properly. Just relax for me. Can you do that for me?” He says gently stroking your inner thigh with one hand and the other pumping his cock.

“Mmm-hmm. I’ll try..” You say.

“Good girl.” He replies lining the head of his cock up to your cunt. He doesn’t penetrate you. He knows how your body responds to sexual touch. He knows it won’t take long to prep you enough for penetration. The question is, can you take all of him?

Chris reaches into the top drawer of his desk and brings out his strongest bullet vibrating device and places it over your clit. It only takes a moment for your body to respond. You are already starting your tremble. Your arousal is leaking onto the desk.

Chan hums in approval as your pussy clenches and releases as though it’s trying to suck him inside.

“I-I’m going to push inside… ready?” The usually composed Chris was showing signs of desperation. He’s imagined what it would feel like to have you wrapped around his cock for a long time now. How would feel? Warm? Wet? How tight would you squeeze him? What would your pretty little hole look like with his cum oozing out of it.

“Please…” you squeak, bringing Chris out of his thoughts. He won’t have to wonder any longer.

He squeezes the head of his cock into you. Just the tip, and pauses. The stretch is intense already.

“More… please… need more.” You cry. Chris raises an eyebrow “So this is what babygirl needs, hmmm. To be filled with cock.” He puts the vibrator on the desk, then pushes the underside of your thighs wide with his hands to give him as much access as possible. “I need to see if you can take the rest in one go. I’m going to push in the whole way.” His eyes flick up to meet yours for consent.

“Yes. Fill me up, Sir.” You have no hesitation. You need him.

“Okay. Relax for me.” And he pushes his entire length into your cunt. “There you go. There you go…big stretch…that’s it…good girl.”

It’s the best pleasure-pain you’ve ever felt. Chris’s cock stretching your walls and kissing your cervix is nothing like you’d imagined. He is so deep inside you. His hips pressing against your body. Connected so intimately.

For a moment Chris remains still. “Very good… Your pussy can accommodate cock rather well.” He states looking down to where your bodies are connected. “Now we need to check how hard your pussy can take it.”

Fuck! Just that sentence alone makes your insides burn and you involuntarily clench around Chris’s cock. He smirks, taking a mental note of your reaction. He knows you like dirty talk from previous experiments, but he wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it with him buried inside of you.

“Ready for me to move?” He inquires. He’s using all his self control to wait until you’re ready. You sit up, taking Chris by surprise, and reach up to the buttons on his shirt. Your faces are so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. He looks down to watch your hands unbutton his shirt and pull it off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor. You gasp at the sight of his body and explore his toned muscles with your fingertips. Chris is as still as a statue and hard as stone inside you.

You slowly lift your gaze to find he is staring at your lips. Your hands find the back of his neck and you bravely bring your mouth to his. Chris moans at the softness of your lips. You slowly push your tongue into his mouth. It’s your turn to explore him. He knows your body so well, but this - kissing, fucking - it’s new to you both.

Chris kisses you back fervently and pushes you to lay down on the desk, him still attached to your mouth and your cunt. He starts to move inside of you. Slowly withdrawing and sinking back in. Slow and deep. His hands slide underneath your t-shirt finding your bare beast and he groans as he squeezes it. His mouth kisses every inch of skin on your neck. It’s like the floodgates have opened and he can finally show you how he feels. That you’re his favourite test subject.

Your moans and whimpers echo around the room. You’re desperate for Chris to ruin you.

“Y-you need to f-find out how h-hard I can t-take it.” You manage between heavy breaths.

Chris stops kissing you and leans up to take a good look at you. “You’re right.” He stands up and pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. “Let’s see how hard you can take it.”

You aren’t prepared for the intensity - the brutality - of his thrusts. Each one knocking the breath out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, babydoll. So wet too. You should see the cream on my cock.” He grunts.

All you can do is cry, pant and moan as you have your brains fucked out. His thrusts push you across the desk.

“No baby, you’re not going anywhere.” He growls grabbing your legs and pulling you back towards him. Bending your legs to fold you practically in half, Chris continues to pound against your cervix. He brings a hand to your stomach and presses down to apply more pressure around his cock. This in turn allows his cock to press against your gspot.

“F-fuck!” You arch your back off the desk. “I’m so s-so close.”

“Hold your legs up for me pretty girl.” Chris instructs. Then you feel vibrations on your clit. The vibrator. Your eyes roll onto the back of your head as your legs shake and your cunt pulsates. “I’m fucking coming!” You scream, and as your orgasm hits you squirt all over the vibrator, Chris’s hand and his cock.

Chris doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down. He doesn’t remove the vibrator. He just fucks you even harder. The overstimulation brings tears to your eyes, but the impact of Chris’s thrusts dull the discomfort, and after another moment you find yourself coming again, making you cry out even louder than before.

Chris grunts and growls and then finally stills. Then you feel it, his cock pulsating inside of you as he paints your insides with his hot cum.

He pulls out while you’re still catching your breath, and crouches down so he can watch his cum seep out of your swollen pussy. He hisses through his teeth. “So fucking hot.” Then with two fingers, he pushes his cum back inside your cunt.

“You need to keep this inside of you okay. Let’s not let it leak out too much or I’ll have you keep filling you up.”

You sit up, making the cum ooze out again.

“You did that on purpose.” Chris’s tone is unamused, but there is a smirk on his face.

“Whoops. You’re going to have to repeat the experiment, fill me up again.” You taunt playfully.

“Hmm. I think you’re ready for us to move on to the next phase of the experiment.” He said, ignoring your brattiness. “Next time we will see how your pussy takes it in various positions. Then after that perhaps seeing if it can take two cocks at once. I have a fellow scientist who I think will be perfect for the job.”

……

This is a slight rework of an older story I wrote. It may be familiar to some.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @chuuchuu1224

#Chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #Skz smut #sorshas fic

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kjack89 · 2 days

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Dial Drunk

5 times Enjolras bailed Grantaire out of jail, and one time, well...

The door of the holding cell clanked open and as one, the nine men sitting inside glanced up. “Alright,” the booking officer said in a bored tone, glancing down at his clipboard. “Bail’s been posted for arrestees Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Joly, Lesgle and Prouvaire. You’re free to leave after you sign out at the front desk.”

There were a few grumbles as the men started to get to their feet, but Enjolras remained resolutely seated, his brow furrowed with a frown. “What about Grantaire?”

The man in question chuckled darkly, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell. “Is that actual concern for me that I hear, Apollo? I could die happy.”

Enjolras ignored him. “Pontmercy was supposed to post bail for all of us,” he said instead, aiming his words at Courfeyrac as if the man was somehow still responsible for the actions of his former roommate some five years after they had stopped living together.

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I mean, we all know Marius is a bit of an idiot, maybe he miscounted.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I’m probably wrong and should defer to the lawyers amongst us but I thought I remembered reading something in one of the articles about reforming pre-trial detention that an individual can only post bail for 8 detainees at a time.”

“And so I must’ve drawn the short straw,” Grantaire sighed. “Story of my fucking life.”

Bossuet clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “On the other hand, you could take it as a compliment that Marius thinks you’re the one most likely to survive an extended stay behind bars.”

Bahorel snorted so loudly the bars of the cell almost rattled. “Sorry but literally not a single one of us would survive an extended stay behind bars.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feuilly said. “I know how to whittle.” At the blank looks he received, he huffed a sigh and added, “So I can make a shank. No wonder none of you would survive in jail.”

“This is making our goal of prison abolition seem oddly self-serving,” Joly murmured in an undertone to Jehan, who stifled a laugh.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not sympathetic to Grantaire having to be stuck in here, but I’d just like to remind everyone that since Marius posted bail, we’re technically now here voluntarily.”

“Yeah so GTFO,” Grantaire said with a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Let me rot in peace, etcetera.”

Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue more, but Combeferre muttered something in his ear and he made a face before filing out of the cell. “Serious miscalculation on Marius’s part with this one,” Courfeyrac said brightly as he followed everyone else out. “Because God knows you’re going to complain about this for the rest of all time.”

Grantaire gave him the finger and Courfeyrac winked as the officer closed the cell door behind him.

Sighing again, Grantaire sat upright, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before settling back against the bench. “You need anything?” the booking officer asked.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah,” he said dismissively. “Not my first rodeo. Hopefully I won’t be stuck overnight, but I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Oh, yeah?” the officer said with mild interest.

Grantaire nodded. “Central booking at the 16th Precinct is a piece of shit,” he said brightly.

The officer barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Grantaire a long look. “Should I ask what you were picked up for previously?”

Considering the answer to that question was a vast litany of misdemeanors (and felonies reduced to misdemeanors) that the boys in blue tended not to appreciate, Grantaire hesitated. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer at all by the crackle of the officer’s walkie-talkie. “Just a moment,” the officer told him, heading out of the booking area and Grantaire let out a sigh of relief as he slumped on the bench.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said upon returning, and Grantaire looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

The officer nodded, opening the door to the holding cell. “Bail was posted. So I guess you’ll have to save your rap sheet for the next time you’re in here.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “I’d say there won’t be a next time, but…”

He ducked out before the officer could respond to that, making his way to the front desk, stopping in his tracks when he saw Enjolras leaning against the desk, clearly waiting for him. “What’re you doing here?”

Enjolras straightened. “It didn’t feel right leaving you in there,” he said with a shrug that didn’t quite come across as nonchalant as he’d probably intended. “And I happened to have some cash on me, so…”

“Between this and being worried about my welfare, you’re gonna give me the wrong impression,” Grantaire said.

“Guess that depends on what impression you’re getting,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and away again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. Enjolras cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Anyway, we should get to the Musain to debrief.” He glanced at Grantaire. “Unless you’ve got something better to do.”

Grantaire just shook his head, and gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “After you,” he said, his voice low, and together they walked out of the precinct, their arms just brushing against each other as they headed to meet their friends at the Musain.

— — — — —

“Jesus Christ,” Enjolras muttered as the booking officer removed the handcuffs from a sheepish-looking Grantaire. Well, as sheepish as a man sporting the beginnings of a pretty impressive black eye could look, anyway. “Here,” Enjolras said roughly, holding an ice pack out to Grantaire. “I posted your bail as well.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire muttered, taking the ice pack and wincing as he pressed it against his eye.

Enjolras pursed his lips as he gave him a once-over. “Any other injuries I need to worry about?” he asked.

Grantaire just shrugged. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“Because that’s reassuring,” Enjolras sighed, rubbing his forehead, but when he looked at Grantaire again, there was something almost soft in his expression. “You didn’t need to do that.”

What he could see of Grantaire’s expression tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t hear what that guy called you.”

He said it calmly, evenly, but his hand automatically balled into a fist at the memory. Enjolras reached out automatically to rest his hand on Grantaire’s fist until it relaxed. “It doesn’t matter what he called me,” he said, his voice low. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Grantaire scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Enjolras just shook his head, running his thumb across Grantaire’s bruised knuckles, a testament to the fact that despite the black eye, he’d emerged from the fight victorious. “I should’ve brought another ice pack,” he murmured.

Grantaire just half-smiled, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Enjolras’s. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really hurt at the moment anyway.”

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away, but he didn’t try to untangle his fingers from Grantaire’s. “Well,” he said, “we should, uh, get out of here.”

“Before they realize you have about a half dozen outstanding warrants for your arrest?” Grantaire asked with a smirk, his voice quiet enough that only Enjolras could hear.

“You’d be amazed what having a multi-million dollar settlement pending against the city will do to the police’s willingness to bring you in,” Enjolras said with a smirk. “Not that I want to test that, of course.”

“Liar,” Grantaire said, grinning. “But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras didn’t immediately follow. “Thank you, by the way,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire glanced back at him.

“Anytime,” he said simply. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Enjolras gave him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he warned. “One day I won’t be here to bail you out.”

“Only because you’ll probably be locked up with me,” Grantaire said.

“Well,” Enjolras murmured, not quite able to stop his smile, “you’re not wrong.”

— — — — —

Grantaire rested his elbows against the bars of the holding cell, his arms dangling into what was technically freedom on the other side. The booking officer, some new guy he didn’t recognize, gave him a look but didn’t say anything, which he took as a small victory, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

A smirk that faded as soon as he saw Enjolras, escorted by another officer. “No dice on bail?” Grantaire asked, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, they’re going to go through the whole arraignment rigamarole. I’ve already let Pontmercy know.” He made a face, casting an irritated look at the booking officer who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. “Apparently they take battery of a police officer pretty seriously these days.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Grantaire muttered. Enjolras sighed and Grantaire gave him a look. “Don’t even start,” he warned. “This wasn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Enjolras interrupted, his voice tight. “I’m well aware that cop would’ve bashed my head in if you hadn’t intervened.” He shook his head and sighed again. “I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, managing a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras just shook his head again. “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he continued, “because honestly, I’m not worth all that—”

“You are, though,” Grantaire said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, then why don’t we make a deal?” he said. “I’ll stop defending you when you stop bailing me out.”

“At the rate you’re going, I won’t be able to anyway,” Enjolras said sourly. “Not without putting up some major collateral.”

Grantaire shook his head. “And I’m definitely not worth that,” he said.

Enjolras’s eyes met his. “You are, though.”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might argue. Instead, he reached for Enjolras’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles through the bars of the holding cell. “No touching,” the booking officer barked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Enjolras’s hand.

“Will you be at my arraignment?” he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “Someone’s got to post whatever bail amount the judge decides,” he said.

Grantaire half-smiled. “In that case, I’ll be the one in the front.”

“Pretty sure that’ll be the judge,” Enjolras murmured, grinning when Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“It’ll be the only thing that gets me through spending the night in here,” Grantaire told him, and it was Enjolras’s turn to roll his eyes, though there was obvious affection in the motion.

“Pretty sure Bahorel was right,” he said. “You definitely wouldn’t survive in jail.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Only if you were in there with me.”

Enjolras shook his head, reluctantly backing away toward the door. “Still time,” he said, and Grantaire’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m locked up in here.”

Enjolras just smirked. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he left, and Grantaire sighed, though there something strangely content in the noise, despite, or maybe because of, the circumstances.

— — — — —

Grantaire didn’t meet Enjolras’s eyes as he rapped his fingers impatiently against the front desk at the precinct, waiting for them to bring him his personal effects. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. Grantaire looked pointedly at the conspicuous clock on the wall and Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “Exactly, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. I have a 7 o’clock meeting, which you knew damn well, so why you had to go pick a bar fight with some guy twice your fucking size—”

“So sorry to be an inconvenience to you,” Grantaire drawled, slurring his words just slightly. “Can’t imagine what it must be like to have made plans that get interfered with by someone else’s priorities.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Are we really doing this here and now?” he asked.

Grantaire just jerked a shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Do you have something better to do?”

Enjolras sighed and scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight,” he said, with as much patience as he could seemingly muster, considering the circumstances. “But I needed to get this proposal done ahead of the meeting tomorrow, and I don’t really see what the big deal—”

“You never do,” Grantaire interrupted, still not looking at him. “That’s the problem.”

“You knew going into this—”

“Just like you knew going into this that I’m a drunk and a disaster,” Grantaire interrupted, finally looking at Enjolras, his expression hard. “Well, congratulations, Apollo, it looks like we both knew what we were getting into and yet somehow, we’re both still disappointed.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I’m not,” he said tiredly. “I’m not disappointed, Grantaire, because that would require me to actually expect better from you, and I learned my lesson on that a long time ago.”

Grantaire just grinned, a horrible, twisted grin. “Right back atcha.”

The officer returned with Grantaire’s belongings, and Grantaire grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, returning them to his pockets. Enjolras took a deep breath, but whatever he clearly wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked away. “C’mon,” he said instead. “Let’s go home.”

Grantaire nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slumped after Enjolras, neither man touching the other.

— — — — —

“He’s not technically under arrest,” the cop told Enjolras as he led him back to the holding cell. “But that’s because we couldn’t really mirandize him when he was passed out.”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire, sprawled across the bench in the holding cell, and sighed. “So once he’s coherent, he’ll be charged with, what, drunk and disorderly?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at Enjolras. “Look, it’s not my place, but, uh, maybe look into getting your friend some help?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras murmured, his expression drawn. “Maybe.” He sighed and turned. “Guess I’ll go preemtively pay his bail—”

“Apollo?” Grantaire croaked, and Enjolras sighed again.

“Give us a moment?” he asked the officer, who just shrugged.

Enjolras crossed to the bars of the holding cell, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “Tell me,” he said, his tone clipped, “were you trying to get hit by a car by passing out in the street, or would have just been a fun little side effect of this spectacular attempt at blowing up your life?”

Grantaire groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Honestly don’t remember if it was deliberate or not,” he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked unfocusedly at Enjolras.

“There are easier ways of killing yourself,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire managed a small, sharp smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve considered those as well.”

Enjolras’s expression tightened and he looked away. “You used your one phone call for me,” he said.

Grantaire shrugged. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Probably anyone besides your ex.” Grantaire flinched and Enjolras sighed before telling him, as firmly as he could manage, “This is the last time. Do you understand?”

Grantaire barked a dry, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I can promise, Apollo, it’s that this won’t be the last time.”

“Maybe not for you,” Enjolras said. “But I’m done. So the next time you get picked up for a bar fight or public intoxication or whatever suicidal shit you decide to get yourself into next time, call someone else.”

He didn’t wait for Grantaire to answer, just turning on heel to leave him in the holding cell while he went to go pay his bail.

One last time.

— — — — —

The phone rang, and rang again, and Grantaire’s grip on the phone tightened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

But the phone just rang until the tinny, robotic voice informed him that no voicemail had been set up for this phone number, and he heaved a sigh as he hung up, a headache blooming in his temples that had absolutely nothing to the better part of a handle of whiskey that he’d worked his way through that evening.

“Nothing?” the booking officer asked, and Grantaire ground his teeth together at the fake sympathetic tone.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before heading back to the holding cell.

The booking officer trailed after him. “Do you, uh, want to try calling someone else?”

Grantaire just shook his head. “No,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the officer opened the door of the cell for him. “I’ll try again later. He’s probably asleep.”

The officer glanced up at the clock that showed it was barely 10pm, and he shook his head as he closed the door after Grantaire. “Your choice,” he said with a shrug.

Grantaire sighed heavily as he slumped down onto the hard metal bench, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for an absent glass or bottle of beer, or else for a hand that used to be his to hold. His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell.

He closed his eyes against the tears that he could feel prick in the corners of his eyes, though he honestly didn’t know if he was crying because Enjolras hadn’t picked up, or because there was a part of him that still thought that maybe, in the morning, he would. One more time.

#ExR #Enjolras x Grantaire #Enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #Les Amis #fanfiction #Les Miserables #modern AU #5+1 things #developing relationship #established relationship #and because it's me #former relationship #mild angst

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kerrysdreamcorner · 1 day

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩

A Love and Deepspace Fan-Fiction

Ⓢⓤⓜⓜⓐⓡⓨ

Sometimes it helps to have your boyfriend wrapped around your finger.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: Fluffy Drabble

‘He must be sleeping.’ I thought, staring at the short thread of unanswered text messages. ‘Too bad.’

Leaning over the kitchen counter, I dialled his number and picked at my nails while listening to it ring. Though it was the middle of the day, I wouldn’t put it past Xavier to be taking a nap at this hour. That man could fall asleep anywhere, whenever he wished to.

He answered just after the third ring, and as expected, sounded like he had just woken up. “Yeah?”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Is this what I’ve been reduced to now? Just a ‘yeah’?”

“Oh, it’s you.” I heard shuffling in the background and wondered if he was getting out of bed. “Hi, angel.”

“Hi.” I let myself feel the shyness his nickname brought, but just for a moment. There was something that needed to be done. “Can you come down to my place? I need help reaching something.”

He yawned. “You want me to come down a floor just to reach something for you? Don’t you have a step stool?”

“Well, yeah,” I tapped the tips of my nails on the counter. “But I want to take advantage of my boyfriend privileges.”

“Boyfriend privileges?” Somehow, I could tell he was smiling and shaking his head. “Alright. I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you~”

Hanging up, I moved into the living room and waited impatiently for Xavier to arrive. My other neighbours were coming and going, every sound outside my apartment’s door getting my hopes up only to let them fall as the sounds faded. Then a light knock finally came.

I threw myself at the door, yanking it open so I could pull my boyfriend inside. “About time.”

“I got here as fast as I could.” He reassured with a soft smile.

“Liar.” I extended my arms and gestured to nothing in particular. “You could have just appeared here.”

“You’re right.” Xavier shook his head, but I heard him chuckling under his breath. “So, what is it you need help with?”

Stepping closer to him, I placed both hands on his biceps and rose to the balls of my feet. “It’s okay. I can reach it now.”

I pressed my lips against his, stomach twisting in delight at the soft, breathy sound of surprise that escaped him. His cheeks and ears were bright red when I dropped back onto my heels.

I smiled up at him. “I got what I needed.”

He turned his head away from me, a habit I noticed whenever I flustered him enough. “You were able to reach it all on your own.”

I scrunched my nose and shook my head in disagreement. “You were an entire floor up. I didn’t feel like going all the way upstairs.”

“So instead, you had me come to you.” Xavier’s hands caught my hips, pulling me flush against him. He dipped his head, nose brushing against mine. “Since I’m here now, you may as well take more.”

I massaged circles into his arms with my thumbs, the small space between us sparking with electricity. “Well, if you’re offering…”

I sighed as he closed the distance, letting him take the lead and guide the kiss. If he was willing to indulge me, then I’d take as much as he was willing to give.

#x oc #love and deepspace xavier #lnds xavier #lnds #love and deepspace

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jacarandaaaas · 3 days

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opening random encanto yt videos’ comments section is like staring at the waking storm you’re about to plunge into and knowing it’s not gonna be pretty and you’re probably not getting out of it unscathed (aka calm/happy fine—also sorry pepa oof—)

god the amount of misinterpretations people have with the movie, with so many scenes is insane, i’m about to go even more insane myself than usual

it’s so frustrating and i want to throw my phone every time AAAAAAA

but anyway yes, i wrote this ask in the first place to ask about your thoughts on different details and plot points and just general stuff of the movie that you noticed and really love, with any/all of this helping you appreciate the movie more? just anything, really, your choice on whatever you wanna ramble :3 (also to make up for how my last question had stopped you from rambling AHAHAH)

because i know you have so many good ideas and thoughts, so i’d love to hear it hehe :>

hope i made sense with the question, just a bit sleep deprived rn haha, but yes, ty!! <33

I totally relate to this feeling😭 except instead of YouTube comments it’s like almost every platform💀 and thank you for the ask!!

I could rant forever about all the details in this movie honestly!!!

The foreshadowing is SO good in this movie!! waiting on a miracle and the family madrigal being obvious ones but did you guys know the order mirabel sees the doors flicker when she sees the cracks is the order they lose their powers in? Isa + Luisa first because that’s who’s powers act up first dolores + camilo + antonio at the dinner scene and alma last because she was the last one willing to admit the problems!!

I love the character design!! I’ve rambled about it many times but it’s just !!!

I love how despite mirabel being our protagonist they show when she’s wrong and other characters call her out! She’s not a perfect protagonist she’s a flawed teenage girl and that just makes her more endearing

I love that they didn’t make Mariano a mean character just because isabela didn’t want to marry him. The problem isn’t Mariano it’s isabela feeling trapped!! Mariano is also shown to be considerate!

I love that most of the focus is on the female characters (if only the fandom would do that) I love seeing a multigenerational cast of women all flashed out with their own unique traits

about the misinterpretations i completely agree. I feel like this fandom has a “fanon” problem. especially with the most developed characters! surprisingly the ones with the most screen are the most common mischaracterised. I really dislike how encanto as a movie went to such an effort to give every character such a variety of traits and nuance only for the fandom to continuously reduce them down to one singular trait. It almost feels like reinforcing those stereotypes the movie was so set on breaking. As well as this continuously ignoring some of the best canon traits each character has. They feel so far from the original you might as well consider them ocs at that point.

I love the animation on Bruno’s vision shards (they look edible), I love the little details in mirabels room like her outfit sketches being hung up on the walls! THE BUTTERFLIES!! this movie has so many hidden butterflies it’s so fun to spot them!!

the soundtrack obviously but also the score!! only recently discovered that “the house knows” is a reprise of “the cracks emerge” it blew my mind!!!

One thing I really love about encanto is the expressions! they can convey so much with so little and the little subtleties it adds to each character is just incredible to me!!

SKIRT ANIMATION. it’s like hypnotizing to see how the skirts flow in this movie I am glued to the screen every time.

the dos oruguitas scene is gorgeous and so incredibly important to the core message of this story! As well as this scene the fall of casita is another incredible one!!

the songs feel like full blown fantasy musical numbers and I don’t know why people consider that a criticism of the movie is about MAGIC I want to feel that magic in the visuals of the song. So each musical number was like the most incredible experience!!

I love how waiting on a miracle starts off as a reprise of the family madrigal before changing to 3/4 time to show how mirabels out of place

the line “how far do these roots go down” hits so hard and I cant explain why

Felix and pepas love is so real and pure

julieta and agustín are incredible parents

dolores entire design

the fact luisa wasn’t reduced to a stereotype and was allowed to be flawed

mirabels voice!! it’s so unique and recognizable like I love it sm

the way felix sings “no clouds allowed in the skyyy”

I love that the characters actually look their age!

almas room being a replica of her old home showing how metaphorically and physically she’s stuck in the past

“I was thinking of my daughter!!”

I love that with isas transformation it’s not her hating femininity but changing what her femininity means to her

I love how mirabels worst enemy is her own mind. the madrigals aren’t aware of how she feels because she never opens up and it’s just slowly eating her up inside. in the end mirabel needed to acknowledge herself in order to grow (I say acknowledge because I refuse to believe it’s acceptance and I think she would still struggle with her self perception post movie)

I love how the Madrigals use their gifts to help their community and not for self gain. It’s such an interesting twist on the classic superpowers story

I love that the Madrigals are just normal people who randomly got a miracle, nothing of status just normal people in a normal town who got gifted.

the way pepa kisses antonio and hugs him after he gets his gift !!!

the way isabela is the one to initiate the hug but mirabel is the one who snuggles into it

julietas smile

the entire animation is so gorgeous!!

antonio. just antonio if u hate antonio I hate u

I love how realistically written alma is and how her story is treated with respect and nuance.

how all the madrigals problems aren’t solved instantly but it’s shown in a montage that happens over large period of time

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