#Anyway I hope you like this
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54625 Ā· 5 days ago
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infinite sunsets
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ray935sworld Ā· 27 days ago
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Today (Part 1) - Jorge Lorenzo x Alex Marquez
When Alex woke up, the first thing he realized was that he was laying on his stomach. He yawned deeply and considered trying to get some more sleep. He was still tired and since he had today of, this shouldn't be a problem.
Then he realized that he was laying on top of someone. Based on the anatomy of the chest area, another man. A very, very naked man, while he himself was very much missing all of his own clothes as well. If the feeling on his skin was anything to go by.
He could basically feel how his dick was pressed against the other ones thigh. The morning hard one surely wasn't helping him right now. He blushed hard as the memories returned.
Even though he did had a few drinks, he wasn't too drunk not to know what he had did last night. And with who. Especially with who.
His hearted started beating faster as he recaed the last night. The way Jorge had kissed and touched him, before and after fucking him like was just made for it - he wanted to hold on the memories for ever, even or especially if those were all that lasted between them.
He couldn't help but lift himself slightly up. He loved the feeling of his face pressed against his chest, the rhythm of the heart slowly and regularly beating. It was calm and after just one night, surely already his favorite spot. Still, he wanted to see Jorge. He had to remember his face to complete the memory.
He watched his closed eyes and slightly open mouth. He looked so calm when he was sleeping. There was no trace of worry or fear. No anger or locked up emotions haunting his features. He seemed open and relaxed.
Alex like the way he looked now, like there was nothing to worry about. He looked like any regular guy would look. There was no trace of Lorenzo, the tough guy that had a habit of asshole tendency. He just looked like the kind guy he had shown Alex yesterday.
He felt his arms still around him. They had adjusted from his back to his lower back. In retrospecture, he should have known that this meant that, Jorge was, unlike his thought, awake.
Alex however was too caught up in the moment. Carefully, afraid of waking him, he kissed him. It was just a short kiss, way too short from Jorge, who hadn't been asleep for a while now, to respond. It was more a breath.
The moto2 rider had wanted to steal one last kiss. But it didn't felt right. He didn't want to kiss someone who didn't want to kiss him sober, in the morning after. But he couldn't leave without. So this felt like an acceptable solution.
"I still I want you. In every aspect." he whispered. He said it more to himself. ā€žSex. Cuddles. Normal life. I know you don't want me so-" he froze when Jorge's eyes immediately flew open.
He stared at the older Spaniard in shock. This confession was supposed to be between him and a sleeping Jorge at most. So basically just a more or less empty room with no conscious.
It was supposed to stay in the hotel room, they had shared for this one night, that they would have to leave soon so it could get cleaned. Maybe another stranger would have their one night stand over. Or a married couple would take it. Or a business man missing his wife would sleep in the bed they shared.
But his words weren't meant to be heard. They were too rough, too sharp, too honest. He had made himself vulnerable. He had make a joke out of himself.
He wasn't an idiot. He knew the stories about motogp riders. Fucking hell, he wanted to be one of them. He knew that older riders often had meaningless flings with younger ones. Sometimes, even if it was rarely, even in the lower categories.
He knew that often it was just a way to keep them in check, to prove them who was really the dominant one. Or a way to have fun. Or just a convinience horny fuck.
He knew that. And he had decided to act like that. He was just a moto2 rider. Jorge Lorenzo was a motogp champion. He was his brother's rival. There was no way that Jorge would ever want more than that. Even if he himself did.
Fuck. He would probably use their night as a way to distract Marc. And now he also had embarrassed himself in front of him.
"Fuck. I- You weren't supposed to hear that" he said in a panic. The initiate shock was gone. Instead he was now ready to run. He sat up full. He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave and hide and never ever go near the yamaha garage or a press conference with him or any place where he might be. He would make Marc park the motorhome in the spot furtherest away from his. He would do anything to avoid him and make sure not to join motogp before he wasn't retired. He would tell Marc to never speak to Jorge before a race or he would just straight up tell him so he wouldn't be blind sided.
His nervous mind was silence as Jorge clinged rougher to him. The arms that had until then only softly hold him, were now holding him in a spot. He had sat up as well, fixating Alex at his pace, so he couldn't run.
He was about to say something, ask him to let him leave so they could just forget this ever happens.
But instead, he was kissed. It was a soft, careful kiss. If he was a little bit more naive, he'd call it love. And it was love. Jorge put all his love and admiration for the younger one in it.
"I don't want you to go" he whispered as they parted again. Instead, he put his hands now around his cheeks, to make sure Alex was still looking at him.
They were now impossible close. Only inches separating them. The honesty in his eyes, knocked the breath out of Alex for a second. He looked so honest and kind.
"Alex, stay" "But-" "Please. Please don't leave. Not if you meant what you just said. If it was a lie and it's just easier this way for you, than go. That's okay, but if it wasn't... Then stay. Please." "Why? So you... You can..." "No."
He quickly shook his head. "Whatever you think, no. I am not using you or playing with you. I want you"
Alex smiled at him shy. Maybe he was stupid for believing him that fast. But at the prospect of his love, there was not much to protest. He was happy. And for a second he realized he'd even be happy if at the end, he got manipulated and used. Because at least he could spend some time with the man he loves.
"Really?" "Yeah... What did you say? Sex. Cuddles. Normal life. I want you. All of you." "Okay" "Yeah?" "Yeah."
And this is how they ended up together.
A few months later, they were still going strong. Their relationship had started surprisingly subtle. Alex almost thought they'd be rushed and hectic. Like a burning fire fighting for oxygen.
They weren't. Instead they got stronger with every day.
In the beginning, Alex was still rather anxious and nervous. He had expected to be quickly pushed back and replaced over it. But instead, Jorge had just smiled at him and kissed him softly. It was his way to say "Don't worry. We got this"
He had laughed about his terrible jokes, made some of his own and even asked question every time he was rambling about his hyper fixation. He never felt like he was annoying him or being too childish. It relaxed the younger Spaniard. He felt free and welcome. He knew he could ask, say and do, what he felt was right without the fear of being judge for it.
And the sex was amazing.
They had started to set in their own routine.
Alex was currently sitting in his seat in the back of their truck while Marc and his father were in the front.
He was starting to get bored. He knew the next circuit, Sachsenring, pretty well by now. After all he had the last 2 weeks to prepare it and his brother had told him all the secrets. He didn't expect much, but he wasn't scared of the race either.
And by now he knew all the songs by heart. He had answered all the texts and mails, sponsors and the team had sent him. His calender was up to date. The games on his phone had started to get useless as a distraction about an hour ago. The list of things he needed for his secret get away with his boyfriend was ready.
Talking about his boyfriend. He smirked as he found a new way to entertain himself. He quickly opened his gallery and went through a discreet labeled folder.
He looked at the pictures of himself, trying to figure out which one would be the best for his purpose. Then he smirked as he remembered the little photo session he did in his room a few nights ago.
He chose one, he knew would press all the buttons in his lovers head that he wanted to press. He loved when Jorge got a lottle possessive. It turned him on to know how much he was wanted. The picture for perfect for that. It didn't left any room for imagination. Actually he was completely naked beside a shirt.
He wore a black t-shirt with Jorge's logo in the front, his number written on the sleeve. He was hard and already leaking. The cum was very visible in the picture. It was sticking on his tip and on his fingers cause his other hand was wrapped around his cock.
He had been shaken cause he took it in the middle of maturating so the quality wasn't really good but it added to the moment. It felt more real like that. So he just hit sent without a 2nd thought.
He smiled, waiting for a reaction. He was about half way through a song when his music got interrupted by a sudden call which he declined.
Alex: I'm in the car with my brother and father
Did you like the picture?
Jorge: I'M IN A ZOOM MEETING
WHY WOULD YOU SEND ME THIS???
Alex: Why are you on your phone in a meeting? šŸ¤Ø
That's surely important
Jorge: oh fuck off
Why are you sending me FUCKING NUDES WHEN YOU'RE DAD IS THERE
In a car.
When I can't FaceTime you
Alex: He is in the front. No way of seeing my screen.
So... You didn't like them :(
Jorge: Mi corazon, you are by far the hottest person in the whole universe.
And you know that.
And fucking hell, when did you get that shirt? And why did you waited until I can't fuck you in it to show me?
Alex couldn't help but smile like an idiot at this. This small piece of honest validation was excatly what he was graving. His little teasing surely helped.
"Ey, why do you look like the cat who got the cream?" Of course his brother had to destroy the moment. He looked up, probably looking like a dear caught in the headlight if Marc's cracking laughter was anything to go by.
"Yoooo- who is she?" he asked, halfway leaning back to him, trying to grab his phone. Quickly he Pulle dit out of his reach. This would end up being a desaster. "Come on! You asshole didn't tell me about her!" "Marc in your seat. Now." his father scolded him.
"Yeah, yeah. But Alex is texting with someone and he didn't even told me! I didn't even know he had game. And I thought we were friends! And friends tell each other everything!" "And? Alex does have a life outside you. Surprisingly. Let him have his free time."
The younger brother sticked out his tongues as Marc rolled his eyes. He had won that one.
He let a few more minutes pass, just to make sure that he wasn't the center of the older ones attention anymore.
Once he was sure he could get back to texting, his fingers and mind was icky to find out what his boyfriend may had still texted him in the meantime. He was shocked to see an apology and quickly read through the texts.
Jorge: I swear, I'm gonna get you one at the circuit if you don't have it with you this weekend.
And you'll wear it the whole weekend under neath your cloth, safely hidding your beautiful body from a those annoying freaks.
And then on Sunday, I am going to fuck you rawr and make you come all over it.
God you look so hot with my number on you. Like you belong with me.
Maybe I should get you one of those glittering necklaces with numbers.
You'd look so hot with a 99 on your sweaty skin after we had some fun
But not the cheap one. Those are made to break in a week. I'm talking about high quality from a real jeweller. I know someone. She's good, bet you'd like her and her style.
If you want to.
Only if you're comfortable with it
It's not a must.
I'd pay. Of course.
Alex?
Everything okay?
Did I say something stupid again?
Darling, I'm sorry if I upset you with my reaction. I love you and this picture. It's incredible hot because it's you.
He melted at those texts. He bit his lip and did everything to surpressing his smile. They were everything he could wish for. So he turned his camera to make a selfie, smiled his idiot on love smile and hit send again.
Alex: I'm so sorry, Marc was annoying me about the 'girl' I was writing with, that makes me blush like an idiot.
You're the girl. Btw.
That's why I couldn't answer
Jorge: oh.
Okay now I feel like an idiot. Sorry for overreacting šŸ˜…
Alex: Aaaaweeeee, you're my idiot ā¤ļø
And it was cute
Honestly
Oh and I'd love to have a necklace with your number on it.
Jorge: Deal
You look beautiful by the way
Alex: I love you
Jorge: I love you too
He felt closer to him and the remaining drive was definitely shorter now. They chatted a little bit and Alex sent him some pictures of the things he saw on the trip. It did include a selfie with his dad and Marc when they took a break.
In response he got a picture of a surprised and annoyed looking Ricky back who seemed to just wanted to eat in peace.
Ricky knew about them. Alex had met him as 'Jorge's official (as official as it was safe) boyfriend' already. He had met quite a few of Jorge's friend at a party they went to.
Unlike Jorge. Alex hadn't told his friends about him. Or his parents. Or Marc. Especially not Marc. The thought of telling him still felt wrong. He wasn't ashame of their relationship. He also didn't thought they wouldn't last.
He knew he had to tell Marc sooner or later. And so many times he almost did it. The words had already formed in his brain but he didn't say them.
He had just ended up staring at him, his mouth hanging open like a fish. His brother laughed about him.
He shook his head. He didn't want to think about it now. He had a new plan. Again. He would tell him after the vacation with Jorge. Yes. That was a good idea... He could show him pictures.
He changed his playlist again, this time his favorite love songs started to play. He listened to them, looking forward to see his lover again after not having seen each other during the break.
His excitement was on edge for the rest of the day. And the following tomorrow. Still he went through the whole day without any major incidents. He gave the interviews that were required and caught up with his teams. They went over the setting for the practice the next day and when he was finally let go, he texted his brother.
Alex: Going to eat with the team, gonna stay in the hotel
Marc: šŸ‘
And he had a Marc free evening. He smirked as he went towards the motorhomes. Everyone seeing him, would assume he was heading to the Marquez truck, like he did every weekend. No one would suspect a thing. No one bat an eye or even think twice.
It was normal. Alex was heading to the motogp trucks and disappeared in the little corridor left between them, only to quickly start running, now on the less hidden side.
He ran until he saw the yamaha trucks. Now he needed to be careful. Last thing they wanted was that this noisy rossi saw them. But he was in luck. There was no sign of the Italian or one of his kids lingering around.
So he quickly went to the JL99 motorhome, the needed key card in hand and opened it in a few seconds just to close the door immediately after him.
He looked around. Some things were laying around, his shoes and jacket, evident that the owner was present somewhere. Listening to the sound around him, he assessed that his lover was in the bathroom. If the music was anything to go by.
He thought about joining him. But decided against it as he didn't want to scare his lover to death by suddenly appearing behind him. Last time he tried this, he got an elbow in the stomach and around 1 million apologies and a blank 'I do whatever you want' for their weekend.
At the end, Jorge had regretted saying it. He had expected to fulfill the dirty sex fantasy of a 19 year old. Instead he had ended up having to try and fail spectacular at riding a skateboard. They cooked dinner and watched how to train your dragon 1 and 2... Maybe it wasn't that bad after all. Alex was happy and that was his goal.
So Alex decided to went to kitchen instead. He was promised some dinner after all. Beside the usual expected food, he also found 2 containers in his rumming through the fridge. He bit his lips as he reached for one of them.
He turned it in his hands, trying to guess their dinner and as he was about to open it, someone behind him said "And I thought I had a raccoon problem" he turned around with a shy smile, to be met with his boyfriend.
His almost naked, only boxer wearing, hair still wet boyfriend.
Alex felt his cheeks turning red and it wasnt because of being caught like that. It definitely had something to do with his own boxers suddenly feeling a lot tighter.
Jorge leaned in the door, looking him over. "But it is just my wonderful and apparently pretty hungry boyfriend" "You're also very pretty" he said, closing the fridge and basically jumping on the older rider.
One yelp and a readjusting grip from Jorge later, Alex's legs were drapped around the older ones waist, while his hands stabilized his ass. The moto2 rider on the other hand was busy kissing his lover.
He didn't care about not falling over. He was fine with laying on the ground tangled in his lover. Wouldn't be the first time either.
Instead he just started smashing his lips against his. He kissed him like it was the last thing he'd do and moaned loudly as he felt his tongue against his lips. They kissed and kissed and somewhere on the way, he ended up on the kitchen counter
"Jooooorgeeeee" he begged as the older one sat him down and took a step back. He was ready to beg, knowing what buttons to push to get what he wanted.
Jorge smiled at him. "No. We are going to eat first, okay?" he turned back to the fridge, grabbing their prepared food. He was determined to take care of his lover first. It had been a long day for both of them and they'd need the engery tomorrow
As he turned around, he saw his boyfriend shoving his hoodie over his head. He threw it in a direction nome of them cared about.
More important was the reveal a certain black Jorge lorenzo shirt underneath it. "Okay" he sighed heavily. "I guess we'll eat first." He smirked at him dirty. He leaned back, the material tightening around his chest as he let his head fall back in his neck. His throat exposed.
"You're gonna be the death of me" All he got was a laughter in return.
Part 2
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obimaulartfire Ā· 1 year ago
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Oh, looks like you've found Darth Vain at an inconvenient time.
In other news, I wanted to keep drawing my Sith!Obiwan because they live in my brain rent-free
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lenathesingingcat Ā· 1 year ago
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So itā€™s the anniversary of That Scene, and obviously Iā€™m sad! And I know I wonā€™t be the only one, so hereā€™s a cute crossover fic to ease our pain.
Canon compliant, afterlife, pre- Enjoltaire and Dasil (if people like this then Iā€™ll write a part 2 where they talk to each other). Oh, and all my afterlife fics are set in the Ancient Greek Underworld, because thatā€™s what I believe in and also why not?
Warnings: discussion of past character deaths (in the context of being in the afterlife), major spoilers for both Les MisĆ©rables and The Picture Of Dorian Gray. Seriously, if you havenā€™t read these books (or at least seen adaptations) then please come back and read this when you have! Major spoilers ahead, you have been warned!
Despite what people might think, Grantaire hadnā€™t immediately joined Les Amis again after dying hand in hand with Enjolras. He still undervalued himself, and didnā€™t feel that he should get to spend eternity with those brave revolutionaries. Theyā€™re probably already planning to go back and start a ghost revolution, he thought, and what do I have to offer them in that?
And he was a little scared, too. He didnā€™t know what heā€™d say if Enjolras wanted to talk about their last moments together, about what it had meant.
He didnā€™t think he could take it if Enjolras rejected him again.
He had no idea that Enjolras wanted him to come back, but didnā€™t look for him because he thought Grantaire held it against him how things ended.
So as soon as he found himself in the Underworld, which he was about as familiar with as a newly dead mortal could be from all the classics heā€™d read in life, he spoke to Hades, who was more than willing to help a mortal who would be spending eternity in his domain.
ā€œCan I help you, young man?ā€
ā€œā€¦Actuallyā€¦ I was wondering if I could help you. Must be busy having to welcome everyone who dies around the world. Especially when most of the people who could help donā€™t seem to careā€¦ā€
And a busy god isnā€™t going to turn down genuine help. So Grantaire got the job of helping to welcome souls to the Underworld, helping them to settle in and make peace with their lives.
Grantaire, as well as Les Amis, had died at the beginning of June. In the time Hades saved by letting Grantaire help him, he was able to plant a flower garden as a surprise for when Persephone returned. Now Grantaire was known as a friend to both of them.
***
It had been several decades since the revolution, Grantaire wasnā€™t keeping count. He had met many people who had died, some more tragically than others, and helped them to make peace with their lives and their deaths so they could be happy in the Underworld.
He tried not to think about whether he was happy.
He couldnā€™t, not when there were others who needed his help. Like the man in front of him, with hair as dark as his own and an expression somewhere between shock, pain, and absolute heartbreak.
ā€œHello, welcome to the Underworld. Please donā€™t panic, thatā€™s Underworld in the Ancient Greek sense, everyone ends up here.ā€ he said, his usual greeting. ā€œCan you tell me your name?ā€
He gave a smile that Grantaire could tell wasnā€™t entirely genuine - not unusual for new arrivals whose last moments alive hadnā€™t been happy ones - and answered, ā€œMy nameā€™s Basil. Whatā€™s yours?ā€
ā€œGrantaire, also known as Capital R, although I realise that doesnā€™t really make sense if you donā€™t speak French. Everyone can understand each other here becauseā€¦ Underworld magic, I donā€™t really understand, youā€™d have to ask Hades about thatā€¦ā€
ā€œGrantaire? The Grantaire, from Les MisĆ©rables? Iā€™m sorry, I donā€™t know your first nameā€¦ā€
ā€œWhat? I mean, I have been known to be quite miserable, but - ā€
ā€œNo, I mean the book! Victor Hugo, the author, wrote a book about the revolution. Has no-one told you about it yet?ā€
ā€œThis is the first Iā€™ve heard of it. But if itā€™s about the revolution, I doubt I come out particularly well in itā€¦ā€
ā€œDonā€™t say that! You do!ā€ Basil said quickly, his smile looking far more real now, as if Grantaireā€™s story distracted him from his own. ā€œYou rose up for a revolution you hadnā€™t believed in until that moment, for love as well as freedom! And I found I could relate to you, becauseā€¦ well, you mentioned one time in the book that you used to paint, and I paint too, andā€¦ā€ his expression became more serious again, but hopeful. ā€œEnjolras. If youā€™re real, he must be real too. Are you together now?ā€
Grantaire tried to ignore the longing in his heart at the mention of the revolutionary. He put on a knowing smile and deflected. ā€œI think thereā€™s a reason why you mentioned him while talking about how you could relate to me. Tell me, do you have an Enjolras of your own?ā€
Grantaire couldnā€™t have known the weight of that question.
Basil sighed deeply, and Grantaire could see the pain in his eyes. After a few moments, he shook his head sadly and said ā€œā€¦I thought I didā€¦ā€
***
Sometimes, in cases with particularly tragic deaths, it took a while for souls to settle in. After hearing Basilā€™s full story, Grantaire had decided it would be best to make sure he didnā€™t have to be alone for a while.
So he had befriended him. Basil already knew a lot of Grantaireā€™s story from the book, but Grantaire still found a few things to tell him that Victor Hugo hadnā€™t included, and he learned a lot about his new friend.
Before long, they were both welcoming newly dead souls together.
***
Where was he?
Heā€™d destroyed it, destroyed the thing that had changed the trajectory of his life so dramatically all those years ago. Heā€™d destroyed it, so everything should be alright now, but where was he?
He was on a boat. On a boat crossing a river. How had he been moved, without his knowledge, from his attic to a boat crossing a river?
Where was he?
There were people near the riverbank, and the boat was almost there. He could ask them, then heā€™d have answers.
A voice. He heard a voice coming from near the riverbank, a voice he knew. ā€œI need to know: are the punishments here eternal, or can people be forgiven?ā€
And he knew that voice, he knew that voice, and he knew it was about him, he wouldnā€™t be asking such a question for himself who had always done good and kind things, and suddenly he was consumed by a feeling of regret, regret for what he had done, regret for ever hurting him, a feeling so strong he almost fell to his knees.
He listened.
***
ā€œHow did Victor Hugo even know half of that?ā€ Grantaire laughed because he thought he might cry otherwise. Basil had managed to find a copy of this The Miserables book heā€™d told Grantaire about, and wanted to read it with him so Grantaire could hear the many stories that were linked with his own. Heā€™d agreed to hear it because his friend had wanted to, but he didnā€™t know how much more one-sided romantic tension between him and Enjolras he could take hearing about.
ā€œI donā€™t know, he must have done a lot of research, I imagineā€¦ā€ Basil answered, but he was clearly distracted. He had the same wistful look in his eyes that heā€™d had when he first mentioned that he felt he and Grantaire were similar, and often had when one of them mentioned Enjolras. Heā€™s thinking about Dorian again, Grantaire realised.
ā€œAre you alright?ā€
ā€œSomethingā€™s been bothering me recentlyā€¦ I think I need to ask Hades somethingā€¦ā€
It wasnā€™t far to the riverbank. Hades stayed near the river Styx in case any newly arrived souls needed help after crossing the river to the Underworld. Charonā€™s boat hadnā€™t come in with the newest souls yet, so Grantaire was able to get his attention easily and explain that his friend had a question.
ā€œI need to know: are the punishments here eternal, or can people be forgiven?ā€
That made sense. Grantaire had guessed it would be something to do with Dorian.
ā€œIt depends if they truly regret hurting others. If they do, they can be forgiven, and get to be with the people they love, if those people forgive them. But I think I know why youā€™re asking me thisā€¦ā€
ā€œI forgive him. I donā€™t know what difference that makes, but I forgive him.ā€
ā€œYou would forgive him so easily?ā€ Grantaire asked, surprised.
ā€œWhy are you surprised that I forgive him, Grantaire? You forgive Enjolras, donā€™t you?ā€
ā€œThatā€™s different.ā€ Grantaire suddenly felt the need to defend Enjolras from this comparison. ā€œEnjolras did everything he did for the good of France, for freedom for the people. ā€¦Enjolras didnā€™t kill me!ā€
ā€œWould you feel differently if he had?ā€
Grantaire was about to answer, but stopped short. Would he?
Basil continued. ā€œIā€™ve noticed many ways weā€™re alike, and this is one of them. Reading the book I could tell you were in love, maybe even too in love, devoted to the point of self detriment, sometimes.ā€ He sighed. ā€œSo am I. Of course I forgive him. Iā€™d already forgiven him before I stepped off the boat.ā€
A cry ofā€¦ something (Joy? Relief? Regret? All three?) caught their attention, and Grantaire did a double take because he could have sworn he saw Enjolras among the souls who had just stepped off Charonā€™s boat. No, it couldnā€™t be Enjolras because Enjolras had died at the same time as Grantaire, he wouldnā€™t be with the new arrivals. One of them looked a lot like him, that was all.
Not-Enjolras was moved to tears by Basilā€™s passionate declaration of love. He spoke, barely above a whisper, as if he couldnā€™t believe what heā€™d heard,
ā€œDo you mean that? After everything, you forgive me?ā€
***
To be continued!!
Now Dorian has arrived, will he get to be reunited with Basil? Will the two of them get Enjolras and Grantaire back together? (You know itā€™s yes to both, I need them all to be happy! But how?) Let me know if you liked this/if you want a part 2!
Edit: Part 2 is here!!
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aceghosts Ā· 2 years ago
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OC Kiss Week 2023: Hunter Delaney & Charlie Berger
*Charlie belongs to @detectivelokis
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htsdfferent Ā· 1 year ago
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Ā Ā do you know i could break beneath the weight of the goodness i still carry for you? āœ allison @ scott whoops
@fatesalign !
brown eyes study hers. it was never meant to be this hard -- they were only kids. ( they still are. ) they were never meant to be heroes. fingers ache to reach out for hers ; to offer an ease of comfort, to shelter her from all the pain the world has bared against them. ( he wants to wrap her in his arms, to press his lips to her forehead, to guard her from everything else. ) he opts to place his hand against her arm -- a friendly touch. ā€œiā€™ll get easier, allison. i mean, it has to, right ? eventually.ā€
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youthofpandas Ā· 5 months ago
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Whatā€™s up with how the dunmeshi fandom just lies about this kind of stuff all the time. It is easily confirmable information that it was a monthly series, something incredibly common in the industry.
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A not weekly magazine schedule is literally common !! Especially in the seinen shoujo and josei demographics, sometimes monthly, sometimes biweekly, sometimes every two months, sometimes seasonal! Please stop lying about how Dunmeshi was some special unique creation that defies all standards of manga just to hype it up because it is so clear that every single one of these comparisons is centered around Weekly Shonen Jump (and understand that SJ has many magazines under its brand that are monthly or semimonthly). Not everything is WSJ and it needs to stop being the only point of reference in conversations like this šŸ¤§
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iscariotapologist Ā· 6 months ago
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today in church one of the priests referred to trans people as "those who are growing into the gender they were called to be" and i'm kind of enjoying the idea of like....divinely ordained top surgery
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kensatou Ā· 2 months ago
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(āœæā—•ā€æā—•) die (źˆ ź’³ źˆāœæ)
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theoldaeroplane Ā· 1 year ago
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worried that thing you put in your art or writing or game or music is too self-indulgent, too self-referential, too niche for anyone but yourself? fear not! you can do whatever you want forever. and you should.
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snarkspawn Ā· 10 months ago
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based ofc on this
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kwadlayns Ā· 6 months ago
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Good detectives do what they need to in order to solve a case. šŸ’€šŸ”ŽāœØ
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fox-mulder-gets-pegged Ā· 2 years ago
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I just wanna say bc I KNOW you're somewhere on tumblr, to the teenage girl who attended Take Your Kid To Work Day at an office building in Ontario, Canada circa 2013 and had a conversation with a middle aged woman in which you showed her your Black Veil Brides fanart and fanfics and ship content and told her about different fanfic tropes including a/b/o verse bc she happened to know who Panic! at The Disco and Fallout Boy were and thus you felt the need to show her your bandblr ship art, that was my fucking mother and I had to clarify all that to her including looking my mother in the eye and trying to explain a/b/o verse without sounding like a lunatic.
It's been 10 years and I still regularly sent evil energies in your direction. Since you'd be probably two years younger than me and thus legally an adult now, please know if this post reaches you it's on sight.
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hinamie Ā· 3 months ago
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I don't want to regret the way I lived
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marsipain Ā· 2 months ago
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Norwegian Mikus :)
Left is Miku as a russ and right is Miku in a bunad!
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ato-dato Ā· 1 year ago
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Aziraphale please! Heā€™s been through enough!!!
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