#chatzy thing

[highheldhammer]

Free private chat service - create your own chat room and invite people by email. No installation or registration required.

Hey, you should come join us.

[ahuizotlxiu-blog]

none of us could make it out alive

[thedevilscowboy]

Free private chat service - create your own chat room and invite people by email. No installation or registration required. Welcome to Heaven. This is the angels side of the world, if you desire to live here, do so. The darker colours will be demons, and the lighter will be angels. But yeah, messed up angels be darker I guess. And nicey-nice demons be lighter-? I dunno. Fuck shit. Welcome to Hell~ This is the demons side of the world, if you desire to live here, do so. Basically, this is a chat for angels and demons to be clashing. This whole chat is about the world of demons and angels, so really, thats.. all that needs to be known-? 

[thegrand-r]

The Climax of the Dildo Fiasco

Enjolras: With a few stumbling words and a vague gesture, Enjolras made his way back, back, back into the Musain. Once there, he opened up the room even farther back--the one rumored to really only be used for...well, alright, considering what was about to go down he had no right to judge--and slipped inside, holding the door open, continuing with the awkward clearing of his throat.

Grantaire: Every fucking step just put his ass into even more of a party mood and he had to admit it, he was very nearly tearing up; three hours, three whole hours of vibrating butt-'fun', a fresh pair of trousers and underwear, all the flexibility he could muster up in current conditions, and he still couldn't get the fucking thing out. And for what? Boredom? All Grantaire could do was whimper, suppressing as many moans as he could as he staggered after Enjolras to the back room of the Musain. At least it wasn't a car ride to the hospital with all those...speedbumps. He'd had. fucking. enough. He limped through the door, matching Enjolras' throat-clearing with the fucking pants and whimpers that made him sound like he was fucking in heat or something. Fucking...last time he ever listened to a stoned art student via text.

Enjolras: He closed the door, locked it, and moved a chair in front of it. There was no way in this godforsaken universe that he was going to risk being caught like this, even if it was just another Les Amis seeing them. The rest of the group didn't need more fodder for their cannons. He looked around the room, all but chewing through his lip, trying very hard to remember what would need to happen now in order to...solve Grantaire's problem. "Right, so, ah--I presume it has been in there for a long while now. This shouldn't be too difficult, then. Um...you'll need to...well, you know what you need to do." he scuffed his foot, running his hand through his hair for what was probably the twentieth time since this conversation had started. He made a gesture towards the table in the back room (honestly, this place was built for inappropriate encounters) and started pacing.

Grantaire: Grantaire stood very still while Enjolras moved and spoke, certain that even the slightest movement would spark new 'wonders' in his booty. Oh, God, this was awkward, this was really awkward, this was Apollo actually--and he--and--...It was better not to think of it, so Grantaire took a step forwards, immediately hissing and biting his lip and whimpering again. He made it to the table in a series of jerky steps, practically bringing him to his knees as they shook, his arms coming down against the table to brace himself. Of course he knew what he needed to do, he just had to catch his breath before it got so turned on it ollied into the sun. Gingerly, he rested against the table as he focussed intently on a spot on the table and not the simple fact that his body was reacting quite positively to the party in his pants, as he carefully unzipped his jeans, and, having elected not to attempt underwear over the uh...guest in his jeans, simply let them slip down enough for his ass to clench at the cold, making him yelp and grip the table, flushing furiously. He wasn't nearly drunk enough for this shit; this was embarrassing.

Enjolras: He kept his eyes politely averted, even if there was obviously no room for propriety in a situation like this. He came up behind Grantaire and rested one of his hands on the table, his face impossibly red. He had not mind enough for words or for taking anything slowly in a situation like this. Naturally, his eyes could not stay averted forever. Enjolras looked down and frowned deeply--stupid sex toys and their stupid batteries and god who on earth would ever want something like that inside of them. He wrapped his fingertips around what was visible of said offending sex toy, moving it carefully to see if he could get it to give. But, of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. He could only pull it so far before it really and truly would not move any further without risking serious pain to Grantaire. Frowning ever deeper, he huffed and spoke with a cracked and embarrassed tone of voice. "I am going to have to, ah--stretch you in order to get this to...well...move."

Grantaire: He wished for the ground to swallow him whole. He wished for the apocalypse to come and smite him down. He wished fuckin' dinosaurs would come to life and tear his fucking brain out; all of that would be far better than being stood here, with the one man he respected enough to go so far as to believe in him, standing behind him, beginning the laborious task of removing the usually-fun-inducing piece of fake vibrating penis from betwixt his buttocks. His breath caught in his throat almost immediately, even the tiny movement going straight to his fucking dick and making a low groan rumble from the back of his throat--shiitttt... "Ah--fuck!" he hissed, as his ass was jolted by moving, his back arching in juxtaposition, also at the movemen--...What. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. And he'd thought this couldn't get any more embarrassing. Slowly, Grantaire bent forwards, whimpering as the movement actually shifted the guest in his back room with him, shutting his eyes as his cheeks flushed even more, so he turned his head, thankful for once that his hair was long enough to hide some of his face. "...F-fi--ah...ne..."

Enjolras: Oh, no. Nope. Nope. Nope. He was physically stimulating him, and he literally had not even considered that /that/ would be what was going on. Enjolras' face, neck, shoulders--hell, his whole body might as well be heated with the deepest blush ever to cross his person. And in that moment he also remembered that their location was one that meant other people could potentially hear them. He instantly wrapped his free hand around Grantaire's mouth, leaning down to hiss "Alright, alright, alright! You're going to have to keep it down if that is humanly possible."

That warning out of the way, Enjolras' face took on a frown that would make the grumpy cat meme jealous and thus he proceeded to, with mild frustration and serious hesitation, push his fingers in such a way that they would go around the damned, vibrating thing (what the HELL sort of batteries had Grantaire put in this?!) so that he could...well...open him up in hopes of removing the vibrator. Which he was going to smash against a wall as soon as he could.

Grantaire: Grantaire's eyes widened as Enjolras' hand made its way to his mouth and he let out a muffled 'mmph?' until the were words being spoken into his ear and he let out a shaky breath through his nose, eyes shutting again as he let his head fall forwards as much as he could with the hand over his mouth. Alas, it was all in vain, for as Enjolras' fingers hesitantly made their appearance inside him, his fingers curled around the edges of the tables and his shoulders tensed up as the movement again, jostled the source of the mysterious buzzing noise into making him moan and groan and then he whimpered, and he would have pouted, eyes shining like in an anime, were it not for the hand on his mouth. Words couldn't describe how glad he was Enjolras' fingers were thin.

Enjolras: Enjolras wished he could just disappear. This was beyond embarrassment--this was genuine "take me now, lord" mortification. And Enjolras didn't even really believe in a higher power that /could/ take him away from here. He stayed leaned forward so as to avoid looking anywhere...down south. He continued to work his fingers around the stupid fucking device (he was not swearing, he was calling it what it was), occasionally hissing "If anything hurts, tell me because I will not know otherwise and we do not need any thing sexually traumatic between us. The last thing I want is for this event to be the one you remember about me for the rest of our lives."

Grantaire: It was literally all he could do right now to just shut up and take it. Hey, look at that, Enjolras finally found a way to make him shut up that didn't involve playing on personal traits--"Nnngghh...." he moaned into Enjolras' hand, almost immediately casting his gaze downwards, cursing himself for being so fucking turned on, bent over a fucking table, with a fucking dildo up his fucking ass and fingers stretching him further around the vibrator, it was uncomfortable was what it fucking was but the fu-u-u-cking vibra-a-a-ating was going from his dick to his brain and oh...Enjolras was talking. How the fuck could Enjolras be talking? He grunted to indicate he'd heard, knuckles whitening as he gripped the table, though looking back, it probably could've been construed as sexual arousal. How was he meant to tell him when there was a hand over his mouth? Bite him? He'd probably had far worse than anything Apollo could dish out during this escapade anyway, so--Shit, that was an honest-to-god whimpering keening sound and he cut it off as soon as he could, though it was muffled already by the hand. God...this was mortification embodied.

Enjolras: Deciding to stop fucking around (ha ha ha yes okay he was swearing now his mortification was his excuse, he literally could not get his brain to function properly), Enjolras began whispering apologies as he curled his fingers, purposefully stretching Grantaire as much as he could, and began twisting the offending toy slowly outward. The words he breathed to the cynic were an attempt to make up for both the pleasurable torture, the pain he was likely inflicting and the embarrassment both of them were going through. He certainly did not want this to paint him in a negative light in Grantaire's eyes, but he figured the desire to have this over with was mutual. All the whimpering and groaning and muffled moans being buried into his hand certainly wasn't making this task easy for him. "Grantaire, hush--it's almost out. Just, relax."

Grantaire: Damned fingers pushing him and stretching him and while he was glad that it meant the fucking vibrator'd be gone soon, it was fucking uncomfortable, okay? "Aangnnnn--" Grantaire groaned, as the still-buzzing thing was twisted and Enjolras was sorry? Why the fuck should he be apologisi-- "Nnnnnnghhhgsdg--" Pathetic, wasn't he? He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, resolving once more to never take advice from a stoned texter, and breathed in and out through his nose, pointedly refusing to focus on the-- "Fffnnnnghg...gdfgsdhfjk​..." Enjolras began to talk again, beyond the useless apologies, and Grantaire could have laughed, and he did, shifting his mouth away from the hand to do so, and to follow up with, "A-ah...'Relax'? How about you get a fucking vibra--tor stuck in your ass and we'll see--..." He buried his mouth in his own shoulder, shutting his eyes again, having moved just a little too much. "Justdoit..." he mumbled, the words strung together and a little muffled by his sleeve.

Enjolras: Nodding once, twice, three or four times (his mouth had gone a bit dry and his frown had deepened because "you get a fucking vibra--tor stuck in your ass and we'll see--" which was a horrendous thing to say and thoroughly embarrassed the blond), Enjolras' mouth was pressed to the side of Grantaire's face as he curled around him, rather focused on the slow pull of the vibrator that was still fucking vibrating until, finally (praise Allah, praise Jehovah, praise Ra, praise the holy virgin (she probably wouldn't appreciate the praise, though), praise whatever the Taoist deity was...praise them all) the offending but very long-lasting object came out.

It took Enjolras about two seconds to throw it across the room.

Grantaire: Freedom! The first thing Grantaire did with his freedom was let out a sob of relief; it was over, it was finally over, and he felt gloriously empty. He couldn't help but semi-clutch at Enjolras, it was finally fucking over, and he shook once more as he hugged at Enjolras' arm, a half-laugh bubbling forth and sure, he'd have one hell of a limp in the morning but it was over. "Thank you," he mumbled, again and again and again as he sucked in breath after breath of uninterrupted airflow.

But then it occurred to him.

"...Apollo...May I pull up my jeans now?"

Enjolras: Straightening up rather quickly, Enjolras' eyes widened just a fraction. "Yes, you--pull your pants back up. Yes. You should do that. And, I will--"

He looked across the room.

"Call an exorcist for that still-buzzing thing I threw across the room."

Grantaire: "Y'know," Grantaire responded, doing up his jeans and, to his favour, only wincing a little as he leant his still aching ass against the table, "I think I know a guy..."

Enjolras: Deciding he should probably not leave a vibrator in the back room of the Musain, Enjolras picked up the object, turned it off, and held it carefully between his fingertips. "Right, I'm sure you do. Now, do you want this or shall I throw it away? And, now that you're--no longer dealing with this, do you need a ride home?"

Grantaire: Grantaire shook his head in response, shifting against the table. "I never want to see that fucking vibrator ever fucking again or I swear there will be hell to pay. And, now that you're--no longer...assisting me with this, I would appreciate that, if you would be so kind; I'm...not entirely certain I could walk in a straight line after that."

Enjolras: Enjolras made an approving sound and deposited the vibrator in the nearest trash can. "I assumed as much. Alright, come on." he took Grantaire's arm and put it over his shoulder so he could help him walk. "And, that reminds me of a thermos Courfeyrac showed me--'I am so gay I can't even drive straight'." he weakly tried to lighten the mood, even going so far as to force a laugh. "Right, so--you are staying with Combeferre now? I'll take you there and you can...lay down and not move for the rest of the day."

Grantaire: Ordinarily he would have argued with the way that Enjolras helped him walk, but he was too sober and too, well, uh...he'd had a fucking vibrator shoved up his pooper for the past three hours, cut him some slack. Grantaire chuckled a little at the shitty joke, though, more out of courtesy than anything, before simply nodding; yes he was staying with Ferre, yes he was not planning on moving for the rest of the day. "Merci, Apollo," he mumbled out.

Enjolras: Guiding him to the car, mumbling a "You're welcome", Enjolras opened the door for him before moving around to slide into the passenger seat. He could let him maintain enough dignity to climb into the seat on his own.

"Alright. Let's get this show on the road."

[beccawellington-blog]

Homesick and Sick of Everyone Else || Ivan & Becca

Becca: felt the weight of everything she had been carrying collapse as the car drove away with all of her hopes for reconciliation. Hopelessly, she fell to the ground; unable to fight it anymore, she felt a single tear run down her cheek.

Ivan: watched as Becca met the ground, he moved quickly to her side with a comforting hand on her arm. "I shouldn't of come here, I'm sorry."

Becca: wiped the tear away with the sleeve of her sweater, "You should have just left it." She agreed without a single glance in Ivan's direction. She felt herself closing up, but she fought it, taking a deep breath before finally chancing a look at his clear blue eyes, "But you're not at fault, I'm the shitty friend that continued to push him away and blamed him when he wasn't there. I'm at fault."

Ivan: met Becca's gaze with a look full of love. "I know I should have, and I'm so sorry. You don't deserve the emotional trauma from him." grabbing her hand and standing up "Let's get going."

Becca: willingly let Ivan help her up, not really wanting him to let go of her hand. "Where?" She asked simply, brushing off her jeans with her free hand. The petite brunette still felt awful and, at this point, did not trust herself to get behind the wheel of a car.

Ivan: grabbed Becca's other hand and held it in his. "Where ever you want to go. You name it and I'll take you there."

Becca: bit down on her bottom lip; she thought hard about where she wanted to go in this moment. "I... I don't know." She admitted, glancing up at Ivan sheepishly, feeling rather embarrassed of her inability to make a snap decision.

Ivan: moving his face closer to hers wanting to be as close to her as possible. "Anywhere. If you could be anywhere. where would you be?"

Becca: blushed slightly at the proximity of their faces. She felt thankful that it was pretty dark outside and Ivan probably wouldn't notice. "It's kind of hard to think when you're looking at me like that."

Ivan: "Well then I'll turn around until you decide" quickly turning around but still holding her hands behind his back. Ivan felt silly but it almost felt normal around Becca.

Becca: cracked a smile for the first time that night and a little laugh escaped her pink lips. There was only one place she really wanted to be, but she didn't think it was possible. Well, the second part was definitely possible, but the first was a little tricky. She felt very homesick for the past few weeks, also isolated. And what with her role in the school musical hitting so close to home, it was safe to say that Becca was at her breaking point. But she wanted to go home and be in Ivan's arms; it was there that she actually felt safe. "I'd like to go home." She said quietly.

Ivan: spun around quickly and held Becca close. "Let's go then. Right now. I'll drive us to the airport." Ivan almost didn't believe what he had just said, but he knew that it was possible and he also knew that he wanted it for sure.

Becca: looked at him incredulously, "For real?" She wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly. But judging by the way he was looking at her it was safe to say that Becca hadn't misheard him.

Ivan: felt a rush of excitement. "For real. I'd do anything for you." Ivan felt so much compassion at this moment, and he was already thinking about where they would stay and what they would do when they got to New York.

Becca: couldn't hide the smile that had engulfed her face. She also couldn't help herself from getting up on her tip-toes quickly and kissing him due to her loss for words. Ivan was so sincere that she almost felt like crying again. "Thank you."

Ivan: couldn't suppress the happiness that came from the kiss he had just received. "You're welcome. Now let's get going. do you need to pick anything up?"

Becca: didn't even need to second guess herself, "Nope, I actually carry around everything I need if I'm ever going to take an impulsive trip or run away from something." She admitted, biting her bottom lip, thinking about how she had never told anyone that before. "I have an over-night bag in my car."

Ivan: almost already knew that she would be ready, it was her personality. "Well then grab it and we'll get going, I'll get on the phone now to get our tickets booked." Ivan gave her another small kiss, wanting to always be connected to her soft pink lips.

Becca: felt her cheeks warm significantly as she was on the receiving end of another lovely kiss. She nodded with a smile, unable to form coherent sentences at the moment, before turning on her heel and heading towards her car. She reached it quicker than she expected, pulling out her keys, she popped the trunk and reached for her bag. She pulled it out with ease and put one strap over her shoulder. It was when she closed the trunk that she started to remember the things she was trying so hard to forget. But she pressed on, shaking the thoughts from her troubled mind, before returning to Ivan's side.

Ivan: grabbed Becca's hand and turned around quickly "Let's get going, we don't want to be late for our flight."

Becca: smiled down at their perfectly intertwined hands, "Of course not, lead the way, pretty-boy."