huntswoman:

moeofyo:

because of meghan i am going to write a les mis fic that is just a 10 paragraph biography of the landlady of the building where they fuck

#’who is ”they”?’ #i’ll tell you but first i have to explain the landlady’s view of napoleon #hugo-authentic fanfic

(Source: moeoftoe, via bloggish)

[Marius/Cosette] The unpopular blog and its blogger

gondolin-maid: Ponmercy would run an unpopular blog on tumblr. He would write a lot of text posts and tag them “why me” or “my poor sad little life”. Pontmercy is all of us. Pontmercy for president. (No but what about a modern AU where he meets Cosette on tumblr? It would make so much sense.)

bloggish: Marius is DEFINITELY a tumblr user. Who else could be that awkward? And Courfeyrac is totally his one RL friend he follows (his one RL friend in general) whose blog is this weird half-hipster half-sex half-assorted crap mess and they have the weirdest effect on each others dashes. Cosette is the quality blog he follows, and physically goes to daily just in case he missed one of her posts in his dash. And her intro doesn’t say her name, so he’s forever trying to figure it out, not helped by the fact she keeps changing her URL. He’s always trying to drum up the courage to send her an ask before going “NOPE.” WOW I WANT THIS AU A LOT NOW.

.

.

And so this terrible one shot was born. Warnings for tumblr-ish language, Marius being Marius, Courf winning an award for best Best Friend and Cosette being Queen Of Everything. Somehow some Jehan/Courfeyrac managed to sneak in.

M. Mabeuf comes from the Brick, but as for the rest it’s as AU as it gets, so…

To distract our hearts from ever missing them

Because Kherri asked (a thousand years ago) for an extended version of the snippet she wrote for her art.

Title from Youth, by Daughter.

tw: self harm, suicide, alcohol abuse

pairing: one sided e/R

11,500 WORDS OF MINDLESS E/R SMUT

luchia13:

SUMMARY: ENJOLRAS LOSES HIS VIRGINITY AS THOROUGHLY AS POSSIBLE. WITH STRANGERS. AT A SEX CLUB. BECAUSE THAT IS OBVIOUSLY THE REASONABLE THING TO DO. Except he meets Grantaire and really wants to date him and that’s kind of awkward to bring up in an orgy-type environment.

WARNINGS: sooooooooooooo much sex. And it is ALL awkward virgin sex, and much of it in 3+somes even if it’s all very much E/R throughout, and he says stop at one point and they stop? Uh. Further details on that, he tries to have sex with a girl but it is weird so he stops and everyone’s cool with it. Free love, man. There might be more and if there is please tell me.

ooookay here we go ahahha…ha…

D:

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rrueplumet:

fantine greets eponine in the afterlife  

“then you do not hate me?” eponine asks, confused and no less sad than before.  the woman has been so kind to her.   “after what i did?  when we were children, i was cruel to the lark… and then when i found her again… i tried to… well, i…”  

fantine smiles kindly, turning to eponine and cupping her face.  ”we all make foolish mistakes as children, and when we are older do no less wild things to protect love and find happiness.”  she kisses eponine’s brow before leaning away.   “come in from the rain.  come into the light.”  

eponine takes her hand and follows, leaving the shadows behind her.  a gust of air blows over her, drying and warming her at once.  fantine does not drop her hand all the while, but continues to lead her on through the paradise.  

“and i know when my daughter joins us,” fantine speaks, “someday in a long while, that she will bear her cheek to you so that you may kiss it, and the pair of you will live in peace as sisters forevermore from then.  i promise you; just like that it is all forgiven.”  

tears prickle eponine’s eyes, but no longer from sorrow.  her chest swells with so much joy that she is certain she will simply burst.  

“like sisters?”  she asks slowly.  ”then might you be like my mother?  might i have a mother again?  one who will brush my hair and sing sweet songs and love me very much?”  

fantine smiles back at her.  ”i should very much like to have another daughter i can love.”  

(via stars-silentandsure)

theappleppielifestyle:

scifigrl47:

ironfries:

they’ve been coming to the park for years, almost without fail

every sunday afternoon

FOR TALLY who completed her homework and also for me because i want a new wallpaper

shares with you guys too

Tony’s eating habits are still lousy.  He’s gonna refuse to share that burrito, you know it.

It hadn’t started out as a tradition, or anything symbolic, or anything at all, really. Tony had just grabbed Steve’s hand one day and had started tugging him along behind him, saying, come on, Rogers, you promised me a date and I’m going to fucking get one, doombot invasion notwithstanding.

Tony had never been strong enough for the super-soldier serum, but Steve had always let Tony drag him wherever he wanted.

It’s still the same, all these years later, except that the slim-cut trees that came up to their knees on their first walk now come up to their waists, and Steve and Tony lean into each other more.

Tony’s bitched his way through three feet of snow beside Steve for their Sunday walk, one or both of them have limped on occasion, and nine times out of ten, they manage to make it to the park and through it without getting attacked or kidnapped or get a call from Fury about a rampage of killer vacuum cleaners down Main Street.

They both have more grey in their hair- Tony’s started a few months before their first date and Steve’s started nearly a decade after, close to their first wedding anniversary- and it’s slow, but it’s there. In Tony’s the grey is almost overrunning it now, in thick rivers of it down his scalp, and every time he catches a few new greys on Steve’s head he flicks at them and grins.

Neither of them get called in much anymore. There are other surperheroes, and more every day- there are up-and-comers, there are ones that strike out on their own, there are the Young Avengers and the Teen Avengers and god knows how many others there are going to be by this time next week.

There are still battles, there are still times where they have to suit up and dodge explosions and flirt with each other on the comms until someone yells at them to shut the hell up, but other than the occasional phone call, they have their own lives. They know the name of the woman they buy flowers from, along with how her kids are doing, and they sneak in an extra tip every time they can. There’s a restaurant down the block that knows their regular and will send it up to them if they’re busy. Bruce and Clint and Natasha come by once a fortnight and Coulson, Thor and the others drop in when they can.

So Steve and Tony are walking slower, nowadays. But every Sunday, they laze around in bed until one Tony eventually says, I’m pretty sure you promised me a date.

Steve will say it into Tony’s neck: Doombot invasion notwithstanding?

Tony will laugh like he always does, and lean in, only pulling back when they’re on the verge of getting too distracted, and then they’ll pull each other out of bed and throw on some clothes, stopping every once in a while to kiss. Then they’ll walk down the road to the park, maybe buy some food from whoever’s selling it that day, and walk their way around the park until they get home again.

(via thylaa)

so much porn, so little time..

wargasms speaks the truth

notmyrevolution:

aparticularlygoodfinder:

In which Bahorel tells Enjolras to c’mere, lemme show you a thing your boyfriend’ll love, proceeds to grab Enjolras by the neck and shotgun him a a smoke, and Enjolras in turn passes that breath to Grantaire~

Shotgunning is sexy, alright?

They’re the two most obvious idiots on the planet, Bahorel thinks, as he watches Grantaire light up another cigarette and Enjolras stare at him, captivated. Bahorel doesn’t understand how they can be dating and still completely oblivious to each other. 

“Why don’t you just, I don’t fucking know, ask him for a cigarette?” Bahorel asks, nudging Enjolras in the side. Enjolras scowls, and looks at Bahorel disapprovingly. 

“I don’t want a cigarette,” He explains, turning back to watching Grantaire.  Bahorel rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he might break the tendons, because seriously.

“Oh, for fuck’s—” Bahorel say, before shifting slightly. “C’mere, lemme show you a thing your boyfriend’ll love.”

He takes in a deep lungful of smoke from his own cigarette, then grabs Enjolras by the back of the neck and pulls him in. Enjolras makes a surprised sound, inhales, and Bahorel takes that opportunity to exhale, straight into Enjolras’s mouth. Enjolras clues in enough to not choke and start coughing, though, and he breathes in seamlessly instead. Bahorel is almost impressed.

Bahorel can see Grantaire staring at them, completely fucking confused about why his friend and boyfriend are kissing and he’s not involved.

Bahorel pulls away, laughing, and Enjolras looks confused as to what he’s supposed to do next. Which is pretty typical, really, and obviously Bahorel has to do fucking everything for these two losers. He grabs Enjolras by the shoulders, nods towards Grantaire, then turns him and shoves. 

Enjolras, breath still held, steps towards Grantaire, who still looks completely lost and confused. He looks like a kicked puppy, and Bahorel thinks it’s kind of pathetic, except then Enjolras is pulling Grantaire in and kissing him. Bahorel can tell when Enjolras exhales, because Grantaire’s eyes flutter closed and he goes from surprised to melting into the kiss, hands coming up to tangle in Enjolras’s hair. 

Then Grantaire’s head tips back, breaking the kiss and he breathes out, smoke curling lazily from his lips and disappearing into the air. It’s not bad, Bahorel thinks, since it started from his cigarette. 

They’re kissing again, Enjolras’s hands curled in the red plaid of Grantaire’s shirt, and they’re pressed together. They’re in their own world, Bahorel’s cigarette is done, he takes that as his cue to leave and go find a bar.

Except as he rolls his shoulders and grabs his lighter from the table, Grantaire’s hand snakes out and catches him. Bahorel looks up, eyebrow raised and he’s met with Enjolras’s fierce, but unreadable, expression and Grantaire’s smirk.

“You offering?” Bahorel asks, a lazy smirk to match Grantaire’s, though he flicks his gaze over to Enjolras to make sure. He nods, ever-so-slightly.

“You accepting?” Grantaire counters, and Bahorel runs his fingers through his hair, as if actually weighing the pros and cons, before he grins, cat-like, and drops the lighter back onto the table.

Waldo Hats and Scarlet Opinions: Calling shotgun →

villainyandgoodcheekbones:

There was art of Bahorel shot-gunning Enjolras shot-gunning Grantaire. I had no choice.

——————————

He never got any kind of warning from Bahorel, no “fuck him over and they’ll be scraping you off the fucking street when I’m done with you” no threats, no words at all.

Bahorel just caught his eye…

katiethedrowpriestess:

Benefits of fan fiction:

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I was on the kinkmeme for the porn, how the fuck did I end up crying my heart out at 3am? - An Autobiography

aparticularlygoodfinder:

notmyrevolution:

aparticularlygoodfinder:

i’ve never smoked a damn thing in my life but shotgunning is dead sexy

They’ve done this before.

Which isn’t all that surprising, since Bahorel has done this with literally everyone (including Enjolras, and that’s a great story).

It’s something else for them, though.

It started with Bahorel being an ass, refusing to share his cigarette, so Jehan stopped asking politely and just took instead. Bahorel was so surprised when Jehan’s mouth landed on his that he exhaled the lungful he had, and his heart had instantly raced as he felt Jehan inhale, pulling the smoke from his mouth.

It’s second nature now.

When Bahorel is out on the fire escape smoking and Jehan comes out, Bahorel looks up at him. When Bahorel pulls the cigarette from his lips, inhaling, and Jehan’s hand curls around his jaw, his mouth opens instantly. He holds it in for a second, long enough for Jehan to get close enough for them to share a breath, when his hair starts spilling over his shoulder, and only then then does Bahorel exhale. He lets it out slowly, the smoke curling lazily from his lips, lingering for a moment, until Jehan breathes in.

The smoke disappears.

Then they do it again.

holy shit you did the thing

get over here right now so I can kiss you senseless

(via howwerollintheshire)

Dreamjolras (Nightmares)

It’s not my fault, I blame queerjolras and their anon:

Enjolras has nightmares sometimes. He wakes up with a start more nights than he doesn’t, sweating and panting and frantic. He is unafraid of his own death—he knows it’s coming, and it’s a price he is glad to pay for the cause. No, what he fears is his survival, fears that he will live and the others will not. He fears having to start again, build himself up once more, but this time missing his limbs. Losing Combeferre like losing his legs, Courferyrac his arms— Grantaire his heart.

Spoiler: everybody dies (but not on screen). Fucking angsty. Basically: canon compliant. Enjolras feels overload. I made myself sad.

idrilearfalas:

246oh-done:

if you dont read the tags on archiveofourown.com you should reconsider your life choices cause some of this shit is funnier than any comedian i’ve ever seen

I have to say that this fandom is full of the most amazing tags ever invented

(Source: apollocomic, via minimangafan)