#THANK YOU CAT THANK YOU FERR

[clemencetaught]

I wasn't sure if y'wanted them sent in today or tomorrow, BUT TO NOT MESS UP-- (you mentioned answering ic in the tags so yeeting these directly at Patrick >:3 sorry if they're too many omg)

Patrick (any verse)

What does it feel like when others depend on you, in one way or another?

Are you more prone to assuming someone needs you (in a service kind of way, for aid, for support-) or more likely to think they don't?

If psychics were 120% reliable and you could connect to those long gone… would you?

In which contexts are you more 'do as I say not as I do' and in which will you listen to your own advice?

Do you ever catch yourself growing… a little bitter, maybe, at people describing their comparatively 'mundane' problems? Is it envy?

Do you believe children should be shaped for the likeliest future or the future should be shaped for the children to come?

When is self-sacrifice acceptable?

When is hurting those you love acceptable?

in which the 54th victor of the hunger games gives an impromptu interview ( nosy questions for the birthday enby w/ @mythvoiced )

The tea cup is set on the saucer. Discreetly, Patrick slides his other hand into his pocket, where the synthetic patch on his palm wraps around his pocket knife– a habit of sorts, since he won his games. His pocket watch sits on the table, next to the saucier and on his lap, Sun has wrapped herself into a ball, her paws disappearing into the mass of orange fur. On the balcony outside his apartment in the Capitol, this is the only place Patrick knows he will be granted a modicum of privacy in the viper’s nest. 

The shadow of the balcony covers the upper half of his body. Sun keeps dozing on his lap, in the sun. 

Most times, when the questions are directed at him, they’re expecting an affirmative. Doesn’t matter if it’s coming from a District person or a Capitolite– they go to him for answers, first and foremost. And in the case of the latter, these questions are not questions so much as veiled demands. 

Ones that he must always accommodate, regardless of the nature of the demand. 

But these questions, this voice, is…well they seem genuinely curious. And the questions they’ve lobbed his way, they don’t seem to be expecting one correct answer.

Sun shifts on his lap. His leg vibrates from her purring. Patrick sighs, leaning back on his chair. “That…quite a lot of thoughts you have going on there, hm?” The knife stays in his pocket as he gently scratches the top of Sun’s head. “I’ll answer your second question first: people will always look out for themselves first. If they don’t think you’re useful, that you can contribute something good to their lives, then you’re dead to them, if they don’t kill you first. Make yourself indispensable to them and they won’t hurt you.” At least that’s what he tells himself– it’s easier to simply assume anyone who approaches him that they want something he can give them. “The younger victors will need someone to guide them anyway.” 

And even the ones who vehemently deny needing someone, anyone. Patience is always key in those instances– from Taiyang whom it took almost six years and his tribute’s sanity to finally approach Patrick to María, who still slaps away any hands offered, friend or foe. Ironically, he had to approach her first.  

“…I suppose I don’t think too much about that. If someone was asking for your help, you would be more caught up in what they’re asking, more than how you were feeling no?” A Trojan horse, he’s lobbed in their direction although he’s quick to revise: “...It scares me sometimes.” He confides, fingers pausing in their administrations on Sun’s head. Actually it scares him, a lot. “They’re…they’re relying on me to guide them to the best outcome and I want the same thing for them. I promise you, I really, truly do.” Whether it’s Hyuk, Devora, a tribute he’s been assigned to mentor, or any of the victors. And sometimes even the furball in his lap and yet– “But I…I can’t always guarantee that. But they still trust me, especially the younger ones.” The tributes from District Three– his tributes, the ones who take his hand, look up at him with wide eyes, clinging to every word, every gesture he makes as it will guarantee their survival. “Sometimes I think it would be better if they exercised more caution with me.”   

A smile, bittersweet, if not actually just bitter, graces his lips. He shakes his head though, chuckling at the next question. “...Forgive me, that’s quite a question you have there. ‘Psychics’... I don’t believe that’s information that just anyone, district or Capitol, can get ahold of–  although I have heard of some old religions still practiced in the districts so I suppose the knowledge and belief in such mediums is possible to get ahold of.” He stares down at his tea, the steam still rising. Even if it is a hypothetical question on a medium known to be more shoddy than reputable, he can’t help but pause. If they could contact those ‘long gone’; would that mean, if he asked them to, would he be able to speak to her one last time–

He shakes his head, eye catching his pocket watch, metal beaten and faded, the clock face wearing a crack down the right side. Still, it shimmers in the sunlight. “Even if I could, I…I highly doubt she would want to talk to me of all people.” If they hadn’t met, if they hadn’t fallen in love, she probably would still be alive. Tellessa’s family too. 

After all, he was the first person outside of Tellessa who knew about her forbidden books. “Wherever they are, it’s probably better than here.” Or at least he hopes it is for her. A place where life doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is…easier. A place for souls to rest at long last. If such a place even exists in the first place. He picks up his saucer once more, still careful not to jostle Sun on his legs. She’s taken to loafing now– he knows her eyes are closed even if her head dips every few seconds. But make no mistake, that does not mean she is unaware. Trusting of the one asking the questions. If it was just him, she would be stretched out, a white underbelly waiting for his hand to scratch kindly at the ceiling.

Perhaps the saying is true after all: like owner, like pet. Although Patrick would argue she’s more like Hyuk if anything.

“It depends on the circumstances,” he says as neutrally as possible. A vague answer for a hypothetical question, because that is truly it. “I suppose if one’s life was on the line, it would be better if they followed my lead, no?” 

Not that that’s stopped, those with rebellious tendencies from committing treason anyways. ( And unfortunately, he can name more than one. ) It is ironic in that manner– for someone who knows the system, knows how to work within the rules all, has spent years perfecting his craft in survival arts, it would make more sense to invest on those with similar goals. And yet here he is, worrying about the ones who are decided not interested in survival and therefore would spurn his advice at any given moments. “Not that…that following my advice has ever helped them make it through.” 

(His tributes. All thirty nine of them. No two games are ever the same, the gamemakers would never allow that. If the circus known as the Hungers Games must be reborn over and over again if it wishes to continue.)

He takes a sip of his tea, washing down the momentary displeasure. Or at least he thinks it will be only a moment long. “I suppose what a Capitol citizen would consider a ‘mundane issue’, as you put it, would differ from those of someone from the districts. The former does seem more inclined towards complaining if only to build comradery amongst one another. I’m just glad that they have such means to…channel their frustrations.” 

( It’s in times like those, where he wishes his temper could curdle, the way Devora’s does in the face of the Capitol Elite. How he wishes he could simply let her use the knife to silence those idle complaints. )

Patrick takes another sip of his tea. It burns in his throat. It’s bitter too– he must have let the leaves seep for too long. But the asperity doesn’t just settle on his tongue. “Are we talking about an ideal world or the one we live in now? Depending on who you ask this question to, you’re guaranteed to get quite…different answers.” A smile, as frigid as the shaved ice the Capitol serves as a delicacy during the games, crosses his lips. “Our great nation was built to provide safety and prosperity for the children. To serve them. Although whether the truth is actually the other way around will again, depend on who you ask. As a mentor to my tributes, I suppose…we can’t deny the reality in front of us, no?”

Sun yawns. He puts his tea down and idly, he scratches the underside of her chin and he feels her purring against his finger. “Are you sure you should be asking me that question? I would think there are more…suitable candidates for this question.” People like Hyuk, he means. People like María– the kinds who would gladly make sacrifices, give pieces of themselves for a cause. “Self-sacrifice won’t get you where you need to be– there’s a reason martyrs are only known after their death– they’re even given a chance to be known. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool. They’re only deluding themselves into believing they can make everything better. A…colleague of mine said it best: ‘a martyr works, a survivor works better’. If you want to truly help the ones around you, self-sacrifice will only get you so far.”

Or so Patrick claims. He can hear it though– the sound of Hyuk shouting at him to stop lying. The truth is, self-sacrifice, if it is for a tangible reason, is…well maybe it is not worthwhile, but it can be certainly respected, especially if this tangible reason is a human life. The Capitol will always wonder what spurred Patrick to hold his district partner’s hand even if it burned a hole through his skin, will always wonder why Taiyang insisted on protecting Link in the arena, will always wonder why, why, why would Devora so willingly serve as President Snow’s puppet even if it further severs her ties to the districts despite everything the games took from her.

They would never understand compassion in a dog-eat-dog world– self sacrifice.

“...However, I suppose, if there was truly a good reason to do so…well, I have yet to see it.”

( Like the promise of a better world. If there is even one that exists. )

His hand stops. Sun turns her head towards him, copper eyes watching him. “When do we not hurt the ones we love?” Perhaps the better question for him is: when is he not hurting the ones he loves? He saw it in her eyes and Hyuk’s too. And yet they forgave him, somehow, every time. If not for that, well…would there even be a reason to keep going? “That’s part of caring for someone, no? You are preparing for them to hurt you without retaliation.” He shakes his head, snorting. “I think the answer should be obvious, if it guarantees their well-being in the long run, I think that is a gamble to be considered. That being said–” 

Sun jumps off his lap and stretches, paws facing this curious passerby. Patrick crosses his legs, hands resting on his lap. A veneer, similar to the one he dons in the Capitol flashes through, even if he is not currently in his usual suit. “You wouldn’t want to be close with someone like me. I’ve been known to have…a reputation of sorts. One of burning and you could…no, you would most definitely get hurt, one way or another and we wouldn’t want that happening, no? Just a thought for you to consider.”

He watches Sun make her way to the sliding glass door in the shade. Her tails whips side to side as she looks up at the handle. Then she looks at him and meows. 

Patrick glances at his pocket watch. “It’s feeding time for Sun.” Well, sort of– it’s more like it’s half an hour before her feeding time, but he knows gets antsy the closer meal time gets around. But this person doesn’t have to know that. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking care of business now. If you need anything more, you know where to find me.”

Or better yet, he’ll know where to find them.

[shadow-sojourn]

Shadow Sojourn

They say that when in the Shadows, the white arrows point the way. Not the blue ones; those lead back to the start of the journey. Not the red ones; those lead to bad things. And not the green ones; those lead to shortcuts, missing the whole point of the journey. But the white arrows show the path that is wanted, that is needed. The white ones guide gently and leave room for dreams.

They also say that the Guide—a cat, python, or raven—determines the path to be taken. It is the Guide, not the traveler, who decides whether to travel alone or with others, and when the journey starts.

Are you ready to begin your Shadow Sojourn?

You lounge on the bench, bored while your friend shops. You aren't really into their hobby, so you wait outside, but you're bored. You fidget. You get up and pace. You check the time. Your friend still isn't done. Sitting down again, you begin to daydream.

Abruptly, and a bit rudely you might add, a beautiful black raven lands on the armrest of the bench, pulling you out of your fantasies. "What?" you ask. "I don't have any food."

It stares at you, seemingly with impatience. You notice a scrap of paper tied to its leg. Carefully and deliberately, you gently untie the string and unfold the paper. It reads, "Adventure Awaits," in elegant cursive. The raven lightly pokes your arm with its beak, and then it swoops up to land on your shoulder. Expecting sharp claws to dig into your skin, you flinch, but you feel no pain. The raven perches comfortably.

"You know, I kind of feel bad calling you 'it.' How about she?" you query. Head tilting, the raven nods. "Cool!" you exclaim. "You can understand me! And how about a name?" Not really expecting a response, you're surprised when she actually replies.

"Muninn," she rasps. You grin. A talking raven!

"Well then, Muninn, where does this adventure start?" you ask. She peers forward, at a door underneath a blue and purple triangle patterned awning. A white arrow gleams from the shadows, embedded deep in the door and pointing straight ahead. "That way?" you say, already moving.

You stop. "Oh, wait, before we go." On the opposite side of the scrap of paper, you write, "Gone on an adventure. Don't worry." You leave the paper underneath a rock on the bench so your friend doesn't worry if they find you gone.

Opening the door with the glowing arrow, you smell fried dough and butter from the other side. With the door out of the way, the night sky stars shine through, which shouldn't be possible considering this doorway is attached to the side of a building. Whatever. You already have a magic raven on your shoulder. What's a little more peculiarity?

But the sight underneath the sky is what really takes your fancy. A proper carnival, bustling and noisy, waits in front of you and your companion. The only significant difference between this fair and the ones you've been to in the past is that all the lights illuminate the night instead of catching your attention in daylight.

Scampering up to the entrance, you ask how much money for a ticket. The man in charge of the ticket window smiles and says, "Free, if you have a proper companion."

You point to the raven. "See, this is Muninn." She caws obligingly.

"Here you are, two silver-rank tickets! These give you unlimited access to all rides and concession stands until you leave. No reentry. Have fun!" he tells you. You thank him and dash off, Muninn lifting off your shoulder to flap above you. 

Taking in everything, you consider the best place to start. Everyone around you has either a cat, python, or raven with them. They wear a variety of clothes from all over the world. You hear a multitude of languages and accents. 

The rides, on the other hand, are mostly classic ones. Vibrantly colorful lights flash from all directions, signs advertise the most extreme thrills, and dirt pathways lead visitors along twisty paths. 

A shimmering white arrow catches your attention. It sits on the ground, pointing to a ride. "Muninn! Ferris wheel!" you shout, looking up. She lands on your outstretched arm. You walk up to the back of the line.

Anticipation builds as you sit down in one of the compartments. You aren't super fond of heights, but the Ferris wheel feels secure and pretty mild. Plus, it's a classic carnival ride, so you're basically obligated to ride it at least once.

Once all the other riders are securely in the other compartments, the wheel starts moving. From this high up, the people and even the concession stands look tiny.

And then, as your booth begins going down, you get the weird sensation of falling. Though you know you're safe, it unsettles you slightly. A couple more times around, and then it's time to get off. 

On one fork of the path, there's a red arrow. You go to follow it, but Muninn warns, "Not the red ones! Only the white ones!" You're confused, but you agree to only follow the white arrows.

You don't spot any other glowing arrows, so you just wander a bit. Starting to become hungry, you look around for a food stand. 

A blue and white striped booth, surprisingly, sells exactly your favorite food! You walk up to the counter and say to the person, "One please?"

"Ticket?" They ask. You obligingly show them your silvery ticket. "Here you go then!" they smile and hand you the food. 

You smile back. "Thanks!" You cast around for a place to eat. At a nearby picnic table, you munch on your snack. "Time to leave soon," Muninn rasps.

"Awww, already? We just got here!" you complain.

The raven tilts her head. "Yes, but nonetheless, it is time to leave."

You sigh, but quickly finish eating. "Okay, let's go."

"The arrow is there." She pointed to a dirt path with one of the white arrows embedded in it. You stand up, discard your napkin, and set off for more adventures.

The path leads out of the fairgrounds and into a tiny grove of spruce trees. Leaving behind the sounds and smells of the carnival, you and your companion wind your way along an impossibly long path, one far too long to fit in the tiny patch of forest. The dark undergrowth presses in around you, but it feels comforting, almost like a familiar blanket, rather than sinister.

A breeze rustles the leaves, and owls call across the woods. You perceive the scent of freshly rained-on earth. Murky and blurry, darkness obscures the delicate twigs and rough bark of the trees. White arrows lead the way at every fork in the path.

Between two trees and ahead of you, lights pierce the blackness. Once you move out of the forest, an antique inn-slash-tavern blocks your view of the horizon. Wooden beams support a covered porch, real thatching covers the roof, and frosted glass makes up the well-lit windows. 

You feel relieved at the thought of a warm bed and a hot meal. The forest wasn't scary, but it was a lot of walking and the weather was a little chilly. Muninn flies beside you, seemingly just as tired as you.

Pushing open the door, you greet the other travelers who are already sitting at various circular wooden tables. A woman with a python draped over her head like a hat gestures you over. Why not? With Muninn following, you sit down at her table.

You soon learn that she doesn't speak English, and you don't speak her language, but you both manage rudimentary communication with gestures. She shows you a silver library card. You suppose this means that she's been to a library instead of a carnival. In return, you show your silver ticket. 

Her python fluidly moves down her arm onto the table. You are a bit wary of snakes, but this one is a Guide, so you don't worry much. The woman points to the snake and says, "Daisy," and then points to herself and says "Basira."

Your raven says "Muninn."

You say your own name. A waiter comes over, interrupting your sort of conversation. You order your favorite hot beverage, comfort food, and a hard-boiled egg for Muninn. 

Relaxing into your chair, you realize how hungry you really are. Your food comes surprisingly quickly. Basira has ordered some pasta dish; you aren't sure exactly what it is though.

Hurriedly, you dig in. The food is delicious. Once you finish eating, the waiter comes back and asks if you'd like to stay the night. Muninn decides for you. "Yes," she says. You bid farewell to Basira and Daisy and then go off to book a room for tonight.

Turns out all you had to do was present your silver ticket to get a room. Your room is at the top of a single flight of stairs. The bed is welcome after your long day (night?) of exploring. After you brush your teeth, you crawl under the quilts and fall asleep on the soft pillow, with Muninn perching on the arm of the rocking chair.

When you awaken, you yawn and sit up. The bed is really comfy and cozy; you don't want to get up, but you have more adventures ahead of you. 

Apparently, you're taking too long, so Muninn pokes you with her beak. "Yeah, yeah," you say, waving a hand. Yawning again, you notice a set of clothes on the bedside table in your size. You put them on and then follow the white arrow pointing out the window. Even though you've slept for hours, the sky is still dark and starry.

You're nervous, but outside the glass is an asphalt road. Climbing out, you turn back around. The window is now a perfectly normal door attached to the side of a brick building. The suburban city around you is just the right amount of crowded. Not lonely and abandoned, but not too many people either. Everything is gloomy, but the streetlights illuminate just enough to see comfortably.

You follow the glowing arrows along the road until they lead to the front door of a dilapidated antique bookstore. To your right, shelves and shelves extend far into the shop, farther than you can see. Books of every shape, color, material, and size line the shelves, enticing you with all their yet unknown stories. To your left, a woman stands behind a counter, and behind her, a menu sits on the wall, offering coffee, hot chocolate, muffins, and scones. 

The owner looks up as the bell dings above you. "Hello? Can I help you?" she says. You ask if she has the book you've been wanting for a while, but never seem to have the time or money to actually buy yourself.

She smiles. "Oh, of course! Right this way." You follow her through the dusty mahogany bookshelves. A metallic, gold-covered tome catches your eye. You stop, despite the owner still walking. You call to her, "Wait! What's this one?"

She turns to follow your gaze. "Oh, no, don't touch that one. It's not meant for travelers." 

"Huh?"

"I mean, it wouldn't hurt you or anything, but . . . knowing everything about the Shadow paths and the Guides and the arrows, well, it just isn't meant for visitors," she tries to explain. Like multiple other instances of confusing warnings, you simply accept it. If there's good magic, why not bad magic?

You shrug. "Okay. Lead on!"

The owner of the shop relaxes. You didn’t even notice she was worried. Muninn decides to land on your shoulder again.

You pay for the book by showing your silver ticket. Purchase safely in hand, you leave the nostalgic bookstore. Muninn mournfully says, "You must leave soon. It is almost over."

You frown because you don't want to go back to the normal, boring life. You don't want to leave this strange place full of adventures and whimsy. "Do I have to?"

"All journeys come to an end." Muninn points to a white arrow pointing to a ladder disappearing into a pitch-black hole in the grassy ground by the side of the road. "Back home," the raven explains.

You glance from the pit to Muninn. "Goodbye. I hope to see you again?" 

"Farewell," she caws, voice melancholy. You bid one last farewell to your raven, and then you climb carefully down the ladder out of the night into the even deeper darkness.

Back on the bench, you watch your friend finish their shopping and come out of the store. "Sorry! I hope you weren't too bored," they say. You smile. 

"You don't have to worry on that count." You hold up the book. "I definitely wasn't bored."

Maybe someday you'll get to go back and find out the secrets of the shadowy path: the golden book, the red arrows, and the always-dark sky. After all, someone has to supervise the ticket windows and wait on the tables and manage the bookstores. Maybe someday, you'll be one of the ones who show travelers the way.

You repeat, "I definitely wasn't bored." And you smile, remembering your Shadow Sojourn.

[ofgentleresolve]

@theimpalpable sent in: Caradoc attempts to not be as loud as usual; he doesn't want to upset Lamon on his birthday by being too dramatically noisy. So he casually steps inside with Lexine by his side, both of them carrying different items. Caradoc is holding two gift bags, one from himself and another from Lexine; both destined to land on Lamon's hands. In the smallest bag, Lamon'll be able to find a box that contains a cat flower pot, along with a botanical-themed stationery set that perhaps could be useful for his classes. Upon the biggest bag, rests a succulent throw pillow and a plant plushie, these last two being Caradoc's idea.

"Happy Birthday, Lam!" Caradoc says with excitement, grinning from ear to ear. "Look what Lex made for you, ain't they cool?!" His chin tries to point at what Lexine is holding, which is a tray of succulent cupcakes. Worry not! She tried her best to make sure the ingredients were lactose-free. The girl smiles, shoulders gently lifting so the cupcakes can be seen better. "Happy Birthday, Lam."

(HELLO I come here to celebrate Lam's birthday IHWEDHWD, hope this is okay, dear Ferre!!! If not pls feel free to skip! Hope you're doing well, CARE YOU LOTS)

His birthday is, unshockingly, no different from a regular day off, sans the grading and lesson planning that always has an urgent deadline. Not that he minds it- it is rather peaceful and while he is, in all technicalities, alone for the day, he doesn’t necessarily feel lonely. It was his decision not to go home for the holidays. To be with his family mainly because his parents were taking a vacation to Europe alone. And his sister, well, apparently she has a boyfriend from France and he’s invited her to spend the holidays with his family. He didn’t want to third wheel either couple.

( He’s done that one too many times, if he’s honest. )

Henceforth why he spent December 25th in the diner with Ray, who strangely enough also decided he wasn’t going back to Singapore for the holidays. He should’ve known that Ray would have made an OCCASION out of it. And gotten their friends in on it too.

“How did you-“ A pointed ( but still half-hearted ) look on his face towards Ray behind the counter. “You told them, didn’t you?”

Ray shrugs, as if Lam were asking him about, say, the weather. “They’re our friends- of course they’ll wanna celebrate. Besides, you sure you want me in charge of making you a cake?”

Touché, although Lam doesn’t say that outright. He imagines that Lexine probably persuaded Ray to let her take care of providing the food. Between the two of them, she is the baker, after all. And the one with common sense too- no one wants a stomachache on their birthday anyways.

“What are you two- you didn’t have to do this much.” Getting a set of cupcakes is one thing, it’s another to get such a collection of gifts ( if he wants to take the succulent pillow out and hug it for the rest of his stay here, he won’t say ). Licking the icing off of one cupcake though- it feels a bit like a crime to do so- he glances over at Doc, who is being weirdly considerate…it’s nice, but also-

“Just say something. Please” He blurts out suddenly. It’s too weird, Doc not talking and well, being loud next to Ray. “You don’t- it’s weird when you’re quiet.”

The heat rushes to his face as the urge to hide his face suddenly grows. That’s just the kind of people they are, aren’t they? The kind to celebrate even the smallest of occasions, like HIS BIRTHDAY. “…Thanks. For celebrating.”

[jeoseungsaja]

your oc as the solar system.

SUN • egotistical • melted wax wings and fingers • stretching sunburnt skin • the most generous soul • blood in the fruit • halos • anger on fire • high vitality • thunderous laughter • is pride really a sin? • halogenic aura

MERCURY • expansion of the mind • silver-tongued • an everlasting wanderer • polyglot • high dexterity • handwritten letters • innately critical • en vogue • eyes in the trees • hidden libraries • there’s always room for improvement

VENUS • in love with strangers • iridescent waters • love potions for your mirror • selfless devotion • shattering crystal • seafoam upon sand • the golden ratio • drowning in your own passion • material value & high principles • luring • plush lips

EARTH • fresh springs • tree hugger • we can start again tomorrow • a blazing rainforest • respects survival of the fittest • nature’s adversity • lazy bones • constantly evolving • flowers sprouting from wounds • a granite altar • fossilized remains

MOON • illusory • silver shimmer off the ocean • secrets and gossip • cycles of reincarnation • a crybaby • physically ethereal • shared glances with a stranger • cat eyes • mistrusting their intuition • fear is a prison • ornate magic wands

MARS • healthy competition • attraction and repulsion • magma and rubies • a blade being forged • wrath wrath wrath • malefic • intense eye contact • cannon fodder & fireworks • blood floods • copper taste on your tongue

JUPITER • red robes and a suit of armor • beacon of stability • leader by birth • thunderbolts and lightning • guilty but can’t stop • secret rich kid • golden touch golden tears • innate optimist • failure isn’t an option • constantly reaching for more • unfinished symphonies

SATURN • traditional • overbearing energy • a sculptor of reality • this existence is a karmic one • has a heart it’s just.. way down deep • law, order & justice • avoid all necessary risk • the sound of shackles clanging • sisyphus’ struggle • grappling with the reality of time • self-governing

URANUS • psychedelic funk music • overflowing cups • a rebellion with skin • looking good in photo id • oblivious but caring • middle fingers in the air • double rainbows • icy diamond exterior • holographic • afraid of their own mediocrity • pearlescent smoke

NEPTUNE • an elegy for the lost • dissolving boundaries • white horses • the burden of mystical conditions • deceptive • escapism is their reality • a polarizing entity • artists soul • paranoia • searching for the unseen • a siren’s swan song

PLUTO • angel statues over graves • power • the cycle of necrosis • transformative • unfathomable depths • an ivory tower toppling over • screaming at the sky • violets and irises • eclipsed darkness • speaks with their shadow • sex, death, rebirth

tagged by: @ofgentleresolve​ (tHANK YOU SO MUCH, FERRE!!) tagging: whoever wishes to do this one!! 

[midasinc]

maybe it's a bit late, but can you do enjolras/combeferre?

it's never too late!

modern enjolferre hcs:

-courfeyrac picks up on the fact that they like each other a few months after combeferre joins their posse. he takes it upon himself to play matchmaker and a lot of this includes making plans, waiting until enjolras and combeferre are on the way, and then backing out at said plans at the last second so the two go on accidental dates

-he also tries doing a lot of "sooooo... how do you feel about x?" and either of enj and ferre are just like "he's one of my best friends" and they never elaborate

-courfeyrac is so tired

-althought not one of courfeyrac's plans, enjolras ends up confessing on his own accord. he does it over text. fr. he tells ferre that he "really really likes him" and wants to know if he wants to go to out and do something. ferre doesn't get the hint and is like "he likes me as a friend :(" but goes out with him anyway and ferre likes him so much and at the end of their date, he asks if enjolras would ever want to hang out in a way that's more than friends. anyway enjolras is really confused because ? were they not on a date this whole time? -anyway, moral of the story is that they're both morons but they're cute morons <3

-combeferre is good at keeping enjolras's workaholic nature in check. he reminds him to get enough sleep and drink water and eat enough and take breaks. enjolras gets aggravated by it sometimes, but he also knows that ferre just wants what's best for him

-they're both very physically clingy. enjolras kind of clings onto him whenever they're at home and combeferre is very glad to be the tree for his koala. combeferre loves to leave lil kisses all over enj's face and be a big spoon for him. they're both each other's designated weighted blanket

-enjolras can't cook at all and combeferre is an experienced chef. sometimes enjolras texts him that he wants to make him a romantic dinner and it's mac n cheese and white wine every single time. a+ for effort, though.

-they can still hang out with courfeyrac as a group, but combeferre will usually have his head in enjolras's lap as they watch a movie and enjolras will be playing with his hair. courfeyrac always smiles when he sees them being affectionate- it's vv sweet

-they go on nerd dates all the time. combeferre likes interactive science museums and enjolras takes him to comic books stores and they are just. huge. fucking. dorks.

-speaking of dorks, they have dnd campaigns with jehan, courf, and feuilly on sunday mornings and combeferre is always like "i wanna flirt with [enjolras's character]" and jehan is like "r we seriously doing this again?" and combeferre is like "i want. to flirt. with [enjolras's character]." and jehan sighs and rolls the dice and typically with a high roll, enjolras's character gets a kiss <3

-they also do a lot of donation drives for animal shelters and after they drop the boxes off, they play with the cats and dogs. combeferre has a lot of photos of enjolras playing with a sea of puppies with a huge grin on his face. it's really sweet

-enjolras also has the worst handwriting you've ever seen and he tries doing combeferre's usual love notes, but when combeferre finds them he has no idea what they say. usually he'll just give enjolras a kiss on the cheek later and thanks him for it but the note looks like ~~^^-~~^--~~^^^==

[mecumpotas]

How each and every one of les amis fell a little for Grantaire: a list

so the other day @cumbercookiebatchs ​ posted something about all of the amis having a crush on grantaire at some point and a few days before that i had talked to @cianaurelien ​ about the same topic so here’s the long ass list I wrote

The first one to fall was Joly. When they met, Joly was a bit smitten because imagine big smiley bear Taire- gah, right? But then Taire introduces Joly to his childhood friend, Bossuet (who found out he was bi thanks to Taire himself) and Joly is completely gone on this man. He’ll always be grateful to Grantaire for the encounter and he loves to tease him on how obsessed he was with his eyes.

The next one is Jehan. Joly brings Taire to a meeting and he’s super nice to everyone. At some point, he starts drawing, and Jehan is very intrigued like oh? you draw? and Taire is all “yeah, want a quick portrait” and Jehan is completely gone. Just. Gone. But then they start becoming friends and somewhere along the way Taire stops being the hot friend and he becomes “my hot big brother Parnasse you should meet him he’s incredible- stop being jealous!”

Courfeyrac does not speak to him until the first time they get drunk together because hot guys are intimidating, okay? And, yes, he gets it, Grantaire is a big bear and he’s friendly as hell and he looks like he gives the best hugs but- “I cant just go talk to him, Ferre! He’s just so- have you seen him and his hands?”

“Yes, Courf, I’ve seen both him and his hands, that’s why I need you to talk to him! Like that, once he rejects you I have my chance to swoop in already knowing what not to say. Don’t look so betrayed, I’ll win thanks to your sacrifice.” That earns him a pillow to the side of the head that makes his glasses almost fly off his nose. In the end, it becomes a bet. Only, “who can flirt harder with Grantaire” ends up becoming “who can flirt harder with the other”.

"I can draw the fliers. Although, if anyone else can draw, I really could use some help.” Feuilly hadn’t taken a pencil in years, but he spoke up so quickly his voice cracked. He spent incredibly long picking out the outfit and deciding how to act and what to say, you know? But then Taire welcomes him with a cup of tea and makes him meet his cats, all named after philosophers he likes, and while he’s saying how much of a little shit Kant is Feuilly wonders how someone can be so nice and hot at the same time.

eponine is a lesbian

Cosette? Cosette is speechless when she meets Grantaire. And she starts flirting, she does, so so so much, but then she witnesses her first Enjolras/Grantaire debate, and she kindly passes the ball onto someone else. Besides, Enjolras’ new friend is so cute with all the freckles and the little, bouncy curls, isn’t he, Chetta?

“Sure. But you’re giving up Grantaire, who looks like that for, well, that? You’re the gayest straight girl I’ve ever seen.”

Marius is straight. He is, really. But Grantaire is too much for his straight heart, too. He’s too enamoured with Cosette to have a life crisis, but a little bit of doubt never leaves his mind, especially when they start going to the beach or running together.

Bahorel flirts shamelessly for months. But then he catches Grantaire sketching Enjolras, and he sees his face when he manages to make Enj laugh for the first time, and his little eyebrows-twitching-with-wonder thing when Enjolras finally says, “I suppose I could have a drink or two, thank you, Grantaire”, and so he kindly goes back to hitting on Feuilly.

Well. What to say. We all know how the last one ends up falling for Grantaire. The only difference? The others got discouraged pretty soon for various reasons. Enjolras? He only gets discouraged once.

Only when Grantaire is staring at him, and then at the ring, and then back at him again, and he’s so silent and his face is unreadable and oh god it’s too soon what have I done what have I done? But then there’s hands on Enjolras’ cheeks and a mouth on his and he can feel tears against his face and falling from his own eyes and yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you, angel. 

It was never in Enjolras’ style to get discouraged before a challenge, anyway. So if anyone could properly fall in love with Taire and manage to get him to love him back, well, it could have only been Enj.

[ferret-not-microwave]

Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 3).

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.

[Also, OMG I didn't think people would like these posts so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thaaaank you to all who gave the cutest hashtags, y'all are so encouraging!]

[Also, I'm sorry I just posted on R and Eponine today. :'(

Just have a lot on my mind. I'll write on JBM tomorrow, promise.]

Grantaire:

• He. Is. Not. Weak. Seriously, he could really do without those people who think he's a broken mess who loses absolutely every bit of self respect when he sees Enjolras. Just because Enj had shut him up with harsh words on like one occasion does not mean that he lets Enj or anyone walk all over him on a regular basis. He is NOT a doormat, not by a long shot.

• He could also REALLY do without those people with massive saviour complexes who swoop in to save him from the big, bad world. He accepts tons of help and love from the Amis, but will not accept any kind of pity service, damnit (and they know it). And it takes a lot of strength to plow through alcohol addiction to sobriety.

• He is pretty much a guardian angel in bars because of his history with addiction. He knows how much drink can a person take, and which drink they should avoid. With Bahorel, he hovers around the rest of them, snatching away glasses when the lightweights get too drunk, and replacing them with glasses of water. That he can box also comes handy. Sometimes. Heh.

• Not every point he says to oppose Enj is a cynical barb. And they don't always have screaming matches in the Musain. There have been many days of trading constructive criticism, because R has a lot of first-hand experience about the city. R usually knows the fine line between Enj getting combative and Enj getting hurt/frustrated, and has learnt not to say something so cynical that he crosses the line.

• Like everyone else, R is also learning. He is working on his prejudices, realises that some his past jokes were insensitive, sometimes even sexist or ableist, and actively corrects himself and others around him.

• Further, their relationship did not start with a dramatic makeout session mid-argument. Because both of them are on the way to being mature adults who know that aggressively displaying sexual tension is not the best way to start a relationship.

• It is not just Enj he's generally cynical to. He's cynical, that's it. And he does enjoy arguments with the others, where there's mutual exchange of knowledge, because he does not ever believe that the rest just parrot what Enj has to say. He has captured everyone's argument face in his sketchbook: Ferre waving his hands about, Courf's eyes widened mid-rant, Feuilly's eyes narrowed with a brief, brusque comment, Jehan's smiling like a cat who got the cream when their argument hits home, Bahorel thumping the desk in jovial agreement, Marius processing what he's hearing. He kinda likes Les Amis L'ABC too, not just the people there.

• While there are rough days when his self esteem runs sub-zero, there are days when he is super happy with himself. These are not exactly blink-and -miss either. The Amis cherishes his beaming smile when he defeats Ferre on Trivia Night, sings beautifully on Karaoke Night, paints an AMAZING picture of all the Amis in a protest and shows it off to all of them, cooks a meal which JBM raves about, and, on one memorable occasion, makes a V important point in a meeting that leaves Enj starry-eyed. There are things he hides from them because he's too shy and doubtful, but they are decreasing.

• There are days when he goes into a house-cleaning spree. Like the scrubbing tables-dusting-throwing out piles of trash-cleaning corners with q tips-kind of spree. Which leaves him so exhausted that he can't get out of bed the day after. So yeah, his place isn't always shabby.

Eponine:

• She is tough. She is blunt, and to the point. But she is not rude without reason, just to be edgy or something. And definitely doesn't throw around idle threats. Most of the Amis find her very pleasant, actually. She gives a small smile to everyone, cracks dry jokes, lobs scrunched-up balls of paper from across the room and fights with Courf for the caramel popcorn bucket. She doesn't yell to make a point, but speaks it aloud with a lazy drawl while fiddling with a rubber band ("Bull", she says, eloquently enough). To new people, she is just that shy and suspicious, so she doesn't really talk.

• The thing she wants the most is to feel safe. Hence she is often quiet, suspicious and moody. She feels really upset if people think she's horrible (or a "bitch", like she sometimes hears random people say about her) just because she cannot trust people enough to be all smiles and rainbows, even though she wants to be. She also feels really vulnerable, and is always scared that people wil leave her or hurt her once they know that she panics and cries a lot. She feels safe with the Amis, and many a times you'll find her as a sniffling burrito on someone's couch. THIS DOESN'T MEAN SHE'S WEAK, THIS MEANS SHE HAS A LOT OF SHIT GOING AND NEEDS RELEASE. -_-

• Her preference for dark clothes started because dark clothes seemed easier to maintain. She needed lesser amounts of detergent, and could stretch it out for longer before the inevitable laundry walk. She had actually asked Jehan for goth fashion tips to liven things up, and they had provided her optimal options (like dark lipstick). Still, she doesn't wear fishnets everyday, and just saves them for "special occasions".

• She is one of R's best friends. But no, she is not his personal babysitter. She doesn't go chasing everyone who she thinks has hurt him immediately, neither does she always haul him around when he's down in the dumps. She usually gives him sound advice, checks on him whenever she gets breaks between shifts, and if she cannot help, sends an Ami or two along.

• Her go-to way of showing disappointment in anyone is to send them a voice message stating exactly how they have fucked up (in an ice cold voice) and giving them the silent treatment until they fix things or apologize. Only once did she go nuclear on someone, no one wants to talk about it.

• Ep is a big sap. She does not really conceal her love of heart-shaped Valentine cards, pink roses and candles. Don't forget that she grew up in fair comfort tilll her preteen years, and she had exposure to much sappy media. While the Amis were surprised initially, she makes them take it in stride. She gets a strawberry cake every birthday, complete with pink balloons et al. (organised by Courf). She dreams of going to Disneyland.

• In the face of danger (men following her on the streets or something), her first response is flight, not fight. She knows that fighting can often make things worse, and cannot afford frequent trips to the ER. She can fight, though. She just doesn't want to until absolutely necessary, for self-preservation. She's brilliant at amateur first aid.

[ferretrade]

love the new icon, but i've followed you for literally years and it is definitely throwing me off. it's super cute though!!!

I mean same, I see my own posts like who is that?? But the time had come to switch from Ferre cat icon (gone but never forgotten) to something more representative of me now aka star wars (padme, my love)

& thank you!!!

[dannypuro]

So I just binged Something Telling and it’s just, so amazing? Like, your characterization is so on point and I just have nothing but nice things to say about it. Can I make a list? I’m gonna make one cause I have Emotions™️ about every one of these dweebs.

1. Grantaire is just, so nice and kind and smart, and not an alcoholic! Like, I love the fics where he deals with that, but it’s nice to see him being a semi-functional adult person. (Was he an alcoholic in this universe at one point?) Plus, he’s still enough of an emotional disaster otherwise. Love him ❤️

2. ENJ VS TECHNOLOGY. I could read about that forever. Swearing in an elevator? Iconic. Never using the space bar? Perfect. Also now I refer to movies as “movings” in my head so there’s that.

3. Combeferre is the sane man of this family and I love it so much. Also I never thought of vaccines for time travel AUs and I genuinely cackled when Ferre brought it up. Like, yeah, that’s a good point.

4. Jehan is always chaotic and I love them for it. Also, I know R doesn’t want to hear about it, but I absolutely want to know what their sex talk consisted of. I’m curious.

5. Baz and Feuilly. Yes. Good. Lovely boys. So glad they got their shit together.

6. “I am wanted by the government for high treason.” Honestly Enj has so many golden moments/lines. He is trying his best and I love him.

7. The PTSD our boy has and how he’ll have to work through it, but he has Friends and Boyfriend to help. (Side note: I live in the US, so I don’t know how much of a thing it might be in Paris, but do they set off a lot of fireworks on New Years? Cause I feel like that would be a thing that Enj would have to deal with, especially if no one tells him about it beforehand)

8. The research you would have had to do for this is just, incredible. And I think you captured how someone would really be if they just got yeeted into the future with no tech experience whatsoever. Like, I’ve been living here since 1994 and I’m overwhelmed by stuff sometimes.

9. Slightly unrelated but I also saw that you did the AU where Grantaire is a baker and Enj is totally not in the mafia (the name escapes me) and I also love that fic.

Hopefully that was somewhat coherent! Seriously though your work is great and I can’t wait for more!

(Also, if you want and it’s not a plot point of the next one, what is Enjolras’s reaction to musicals? I know the boy loves his opera, but someone had to have shown him something on YouTube and I just crave knowledge about this universe) Thanks! 🥰

GUH thank you!!!!!!! thank you thank you!!! and thank you for taking the time to make a list because i thrive off of validation alone and it made my day 🥺. SO.

grantaire is a total sweetheart. like, genuinely a nice person who is trying his best despite the fact that he has a hard time. baby. of course, the funniest part about him is the fact that he has NO idea that he’s actually just like... nice. he’s like... oh man it sure sucks that i’m the worst person possible to help someone in need... sucks that i’m the only one here... sorry dude i’m sorry i’m not combeferre... and then he proceeds to just like. make beef stew and be so careful and kind and thoughtful and try his very best and let enjolras go to sleep on his shoulder during a moving. like... sir. ok. also, yes, i tend to write him a little more... with his shit together, especially in this fic. you mentioned that you read And If I See You In The Daylight (the bakery fic)--i kind of wrote this assuming a similar character arc (minus the bakery, of course. like, grantaire used to be much, much more of a mess in a lot of ways, and drinking too much was a part of that, and he’s slowly been working on it. and now he’s 29, and he’s doing his best, and his friends love him. he’s doing a little better in this fic than in the bakery fic--maybe he’s a little older? maybe because combeferre is a little harsher than jbm and gets on his case when he starts to slip back into old habits? yeah.

ENJ VS TECHNOLOGY. sweetie. baby. the first time combeferre vacuums his apartment when enj is around he’s like “hey man, do you mind if i do the vacuuming?” and enj (has NO idea what that word is, is falling asleep while reading on the couch in the sun) is like “do what you will” and then ferre turns the vacuum on and enjy does that thing when a cat is startled and it jumps like three feet up in the air and puffs up like a squirrel. he’s awake now.

combeferre. baby. he’s genuinely, genuinely trying his best, but it’s fucking hard when you’re tired and overworked and also none of your friends use their brains more than 30% of the time and also your new best friend is a spiky little revolutionary from EIGHTEEN THIRTY TWO. so. um. he’s a little stressed. but he loves enjy so much and doesn’t even mind when he’s dramatic and annoying because he’s such a sweet dude and they’re FRIENDS. sometimes he comes home from a long day of work and enj has come over and washed all of his dishes and brought over takeout but also rearranged all of his books and also eaten like three mangoes. listen. friendship is about gently tormenting your BFF because you are COMFORTABLE AROUND EACH OTHER.

jehan. baby. instagram influencer supreme. i’ve gotten like a bazillion asks about their sex talk--i SWEAR i will write it eventually because the concept of it just cracks me up. jehan is like. “ok. enjy. tell me what you know about sex” and enj is like... “i understand that..... it occurs?” and jehan is like :^/ and enj is like “one must be careful not to contract syphilis from unseemly sources?” and jehan is like “TIme For A Conversation Before Grantaire Messes This Up”

baz and feuilly. babies. they’re just such a sweet, casual couple and they  like each other so much. also, first date 3 am kebabs? after they FINALLY communicated? and then baz gets railed like he deserves? they deserve it.

enj has a secret little sense of humor and it’s just a little hidden by the fact that he is 1) repressed 2) awkward. but it’s there! he’s just so smart and secretly funny and grantaire thinks he’s fucking hilarious. except when he jokes about the fact that he’s technically dead. it makes grantaire sad. he’s like YOU’RE NOT DEAD THOUGH BABE YOU’RE EATING JAPCHAE RIGHT NOW and enj is like. “i believe that if you observe my wicky encyclopaedia you shall learn otherwise 🤷” and grantaire is like 😰BABE

yeah. yeah. listen. he’s got a lot of shit to deal with. it’s gonna take a while. like... that is some SERIOUS trauma, and he didn’t even have any time in his own century to process it. he went straight from a very violent event--LITERALLY about to be executed 😰--to being zapped to a time where he recognizes NOTHING. that... didn’t help. and he can’t really go to a therapist (which causes combeferre no shortage of distress) since like... he wouldn’t be able to explain anything about the barricades or the source of his trauma to begin with. so... yeah. but yes! he has friends and a boyfriend who love and support him so much! and it’s the framework he needs to begin to work through stuff at his own pace 🥺 (also, yes, fireworks are a big thing. they’re also big for the 14 juillet, which i... kind of forgot to address. i might go back and write a scene somewhere around ch. 5 for it and post it on here. we’ll see.)

i’m so glad you appreciated the research! 🥺🥺🥺 legit i... kind of spent a stupid amount of time on it. i really tried to make it as realistic as possible (barring, like, the whole time-zap thing, and also the whole “characters from les mis” thing) since the whole POINT is the differences between their two times, so... i’m glad it paid off. it means a lot to hear that u vibed with it.

thank you thank you! again-- And If I See You In The Daylight is the name of the bakery fic, and i also love it 🥺🥺🥺 . to everyone else... READ IT!

enjolras does not like musicals. like... yes, there was a natural progression from 20th century opera to early musicals, but enjolras missed all of that. and 21st century musicals are pretty fucking different from 1820s/30s opera. he can’t quite understand the music. the plotlines don’t make sense. the plots aren’t stupid enough for his taste. they take themselves too seriously. not enough miscommunication. orchestral parts not nice enough. cosette tries to show him a musical on youtube and enjy is like. who is that. why are they all dressed the same. what is going on. why do they not use their Pocket Fones? why does it sound like this. hellp. (she gives up and shows him a Puccini opera instead.)

anyways. THANK YOU! and to everyone else--send me asks! send me prompts! send me questions! i WILL respond to them and i treasure them all i just tend to be kind of slow! but i love to receive them! thank you!!!

[cumbercookiebatchs]

Wait I thought of another!!

Okay so Combeferre is allergic to cats (not deadly, but noticeably) and Courfeyrac's family have MANY cats.

They both forget to tell each other about these facts, and they only find out about it when Courf returns from a family reunion and Ferre can't stop his eyes from watering and is constantly sneezing when his boyfriend is around.

They're sad that they can't be around each other until Courf has washed his clothes thoroughly, but they make up for it when they're safe to snuggle again :)

MY BOYS THEY ARE SO CUTE YES YES PLEASE And Combeferre really likes cats even though he's allergic so Courf buys him a Cat plushie and Combeferre doesn't want to but he blushes a bit and kisses Courf on the tip of his nose AAAAAAAAH

THANK YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[jabbers-of-jay]

COURFERRE AND CATS!!!!

- Courfeyrac ends up doing some community service just because. He also thought it might be a good way to get some new recruits. Anyway, so he looked up a bunch of different things and found this cat sanctuary. And he was totally going just to help out the poor cats. They just needed a little love. And honestly, what better kind of community service than cleaning up their litter boxes and then just getting to pet and play with cats all day?

- His friends definitely tell him not to. He shouldn’t because he’s going to want to adopt the cat. Does his apartment even have a pet policy and allow cats?

- But Courfeyrac tells them all he doesn’t need to actually own a cat. That just helping the cats in need will be enough. But of course Combeferre knows better. So he spends the afternoon looking into their apartment’s policy. He talks to their landlord and neighbors. The landlord is definitely hesitant. But he also trusts Combeferre. So he says they can adopt 1 cat as long as they pay a pet deposit and that they periodically do a deep clean of the apartment

- Courfeyrac comes home that night bouncing with excitement and he’s telling Combeferre all about the cats. The way Courfeyrac describes them you would think he had been babysitting children all day, not cats. He describes all of their personalities and he tells Combeferre he doesn’t have a favorite, but he obviously does and he whispers about his favorite. As they’re eating, Combeferre asks him which one they’re adopting and Courf pretends to be all indignant and say he promised he wasn’t getting attached, it was just some cats in need that he was helping....

- Later that night, they’re all snuggled in bed, Combeferre is reading and Courfeyrac is scrolling through all of the photos of the cats he took that afternoon. “Well.. I really think we should adopt the sick one. She isn’t my favorite, but if we adopted her she would be. And clearly she needs us more than the others. Of course I love Scampy, but he’s the leader of their group! We can’t adopt him! That’d be like someone adopting Enjolras and us never getting to see him again! We’d be utterly lost!” He goes on. Combeferre just kisses the top of his head, smiles, and says “okay” before turning his page and continuing to read his book

- They decide that Combeferre should go with Courfeyrac the next couple of times he volunteers so the cat, who is a little skittish, can get used to both of them. Somehow she is instantly attached to Combeferre and spends the day being his shadow as he helps empty litter boxes, replenish food and water, and Combeferre quietly talks to her the whole time. And Courfeyrac just can’t handle it because it is ADORABLE. 

- The argue over her name because Courfeyrac wants to call her Princess Whiskers, but Combeferre says she should have a dignified name and says Artemis. Courfeyrac finally agrees her adoption papers can say Artemis but her name tag will say Princess Artemis of the Whiskers.

- They take Artemis home but they tell their friends they can only come over in small groups because she’s shy and they don’t want to overwhelm her. Courfeyrac is shocked when Artemis instantly takes a liking to Enjolras. At which Grantaire walks over says “I told you” and holds out his hand while Courfeyrac mutters and hands over 20 euro.

- Courfeyrac is really concerned though because Artemis, Ahem, Princess Whiskers, is still not doing well. She seems listless, and where she used to jump up and come running when Combeferre came home, or follow him around. She just watches him from the chair. So they take her to the vet and find out.... she’s going to have kittens!!! Courfeyrac’s entire year is made and he’s convinced that he’s going to keep all of the kittens. Combeferre just shakes his head. 

- Combeferre enlists the help of his friends and neighbors and by the time Artemis has her kittens he has a home for each one. Courfeyrac is sad but Combeferre comforts him with the fact that they know where every kitten is going and he can visit them all. To which Courfeyrac then declares himself godfather to all of the kittens

- Courfeyrac insists he gets to name all the kittens and as godfather everyone should listen to him. Jehan is the only one that does because he helped name all the kittens.

- Courfeyrac also often groans and moans about how Artemis doesn’t like him and what kind of a thanks is that? He took her in. He helped her. He helped get all her children nice, loving, homes. But of course he says all this while he’s taking photos and cooing at her. He’s mostly just miffed that she obviously loves Combeferre more. 

-Meanwhile, Combeferre just continues his attitude from the very first time they met of walking around, filler her food bowl, cleaning around the house, just quietly talking to her. He seems to really love explaining all of the myths surrounding her namesake and Courfeyrac SWEARS that she seems the most attentive when he does that.

- Eventually Princess Whiskers gets used to Courfeyrac’s exciteable personality. They start getting closer when Courfeyrac falls asleep in Combeferre sweater one night while Combeferre is at a night shift. Combeferre walks in, dead tired, to find the cat curled into an adorable ball on Courfeyrac’s chest. Courfeyrac wouldn’t believe that it had actually happened if Combeferre hadn’t saved it as his home screen.

- after that, and Combeferre telling Courf she probably smelled Combeferre on his sweater and that he was quiet, Courfeyrac starts living in Combferre’s clothes, although how is that really different from every day life? He also tries to not be quite as excited around her and they slowly seem to come to an agreement. But Combeferre is obviously her number one, and honestly Courfeyrac really can’t be upset about that because how can someone not love Combeferre the most?

- It takes a good year before Princess Artemis of the Whiskers and Courfeyrac find their groove, but they clearly get used to one another. She still leaps away from him when he’s overly excitable. But she does come running to Courfeyrac when she gets her 2 am zoomies, because Courfeyrac will play with her. Sundays are also mandatory family cuddle days, and somehow Artemis picks up on that? And if they fall asleep she’ll often find a little place to tuck herself into a ball with her new family

- And that’s the story of how Courf and Ferre got their cat, as well as everyone on their apartment floor and most of the Amis

[fics-in-a-bottlepost]

Here's another one that got lost in some black hole on this platform. Courferre(Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Les Mis) this time.

It's a few minutes after 6 when Combeferre drinks the first sip of his coffee and takes a look at his calender. Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of his bookshop. He quickly finishes his coffee, feeds Blaise, his cat, and changes his pjamas for some sportswear before he heads out the door with Blaise on his tail who then disappears around the next corner. Combeferre starts his daily morning run, the route isn't long and therefore barely takes him 30 minutes but he loves seeing the city wake up while he was already on his feet. He doesn't meet many people except for his neighbor Jehan Prouvaire who greets him with a big smile and a "why don't you drop by occasionally? I baked a lot these past few days and could really use someone to taste them!"

Ferre smiles at them and promises to drop by in the afternoon before he goes on.

Apart from a few people with their dogs and a few other people on their morning runs he meets nearly noone. He waves at the young man in the wheelchair who always sits in front of the house at the crack of dawn and gets a cute smile back. Wait-did he just refer to another man's smile as...cute? He tries not to think about it for now and watch out for any obstacles on his way instead.

Combeferre stops abrupt at the corner as he hears a feminine voice behind him. "Hello Courfeyrac. Don't you want to come inside? Breakfast is ready and It's still pretty cold, sweety." She isn't talking to him, obviously, but he's heard that voice before. It's the woman that drops by his bookshop at least once a week, buying a book from different topics each week. He turns around to see her talking to the young man in the wheelchair who's mostly reading in the morning but now just looking around with a book in his lap. Combeferre has seen his movements the past few weeks and months, he can barely lift his hands to turn the side of the books he's reading. He watches the curly haired lift his book a few inches. "I know Courf. One day I'll take you too the bookstore with me. When papa comes back. I can't carry you inside the store, there's no way you can get inside with that wheelchair with those steps outside. One day Courf, one day." she says and patts his head as she turns the wheelchair to roll her son inside.

Ferre spends almost all day in his garage after a quick stop at his shop for some notes and measurements. Apart from Lunch, which Jehan comes by for and takes him back to their house. Ferre loves their house and especially their food, which is vegan and always incredibly tasty. He's glad that Jehan thought of him because he'd probably forget to eat at all. They doesn't let him leave without taking a bag of different cookies and some apple-pumpkin bread. When he gets back to his house he finishes his project with a quick few screws. Then he makes a call and within 10 minutes his friend Grantaire stops with his van outside. The artist helps him carry the ramp he build into the car and unload it at the store until he's off to his boyfriend Enjolras. It fits perfectly over the stairs as he planned. He opens the shop door for a minute to stick a small card into a book he ordered for Courfeyracs mother-or probably Courfeyrac- and decides to drop it off at their house. The man himself sits outside, enjoying the warm air and the rays of sun with closed air. His eyes snap open as Combeferre stops in front of him. The taller man awkwardly pulls the book from his sling bag and holds it within Courfs reach. The brunett smiles at the sight of the book, his smile expands even more as he opens it and reveals the message.

"Dear Courf." he reads whispering "If someone would have told me they would like to visit my shop but couldn't due to their condition of health I would have done something earlier. Anyway, I adapted the entry to the bookshop to your needs and would like to invite you to drop by. Sincerely, Combeferre(the owner)" the card falls from his hands onto the book in his lap as he stares up at Combeferre with shining eyes.

"Really?", he whispers and Combeferre can only nod as the other grabs his hand and squeezes it as a thanks. He returns the gesture as the front door opens and Courf mother walks outside. She recognizes him immediately, judging by the look on her face. She tilts her head at Ferre as her son let's go off Combeferres hand and reaches out to give her the card. She reads in silent as both man stare at her, then turns to Combeferre as she lays the card down in Courf lap. "Thank you so much." she says and shakes his hand. He smiles at her and nodds politely. Courf tucks at her sleeve and makes a gesture with one hand as she let's go of the other man's hand and faces him. "I've got to work to tomorrow, Courf. I can't stay at the bookstore all day long, even if I want. Maybe overmorrow." she answers to his question. The smile on Courfs face disappears and it almost breaks Combeferres heart as he looks at him. "Uh..." he disrupts. Both mother and son turn to look at him. "I could take him with me. I gotta work between 9 and 13 and later between 14.30 and 18 o clock but he could stay as long as he wants." he suggests. Courfeyracs face lights up as his mother agrees. Heloise, as she introduces herself properly, and Combeferre arrange for him to pick up Courfeyrac at 8:30. Courf can decide for himself if he wants to go home and she will come and pick him up.

Ferre almost can't sleep that night. He's too busy thinking about whether Courfeyrac will like his shop. Hes running on 5 hours of sleep and 4 coffee when he stops by Courfs house after his morning run, a quick shower and a few slices of Jehans bread . His new friend sits in front of the door already, wearing blue jeans and a yellow sweatshirt and brightly smiling at Ferre. Heloise stands at the kitchen window next to the door and waves back at Combeferre as he waves at her and moves over to Courfeyrac wheelchair. He finds himself quiet liking the feeling of the handles as he pushes his new friend the way to his bookshop. He needs some more energy to push the wheelchair up the ramp but it's worth it, he decides as Courfeyrac beams with happiness when he looks around and can't even get his mouth closed. They spend the first hour just getting to knew each other in lack of any customers. Combeferre provides him with one of his favourite books "a brief History of Time".

Its 9.45 sharp when the doorbell rings, causing Courfeyrac to flinch in surprise. A red and a green hoodie came into Combeferres field of view through the open door of the backroom and the long hallway as Enjolras and Grantaire enter the shop. Combeferre excuses himself from Courfeyracs side to walk to the front and get the hoard of books R ordered from the cubboard behind the counter. They're mostly art books but some others too. Enjolras gasps as he sees the amount of books his boyfriend wants to purchase but runs off shortly after to look for the second book of a sequel he just started. A shriek rings out from the back where Enj just vanished, followed by a loud bang and both R and Ferre rush to the source of the sound. They find Enj sitting on the ground with a book in his hands and the old wooden latter laying next to him. He's staring at Courf sitting in the corner of the room who dropped his book when Enji first saw him. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry. " Enjolras gasps when he finds his voice again. "Uh, this is my friend..." Combeferre starts but gets cut off by Grantaire. "Courfeyrac, right?"

Mentioned man slightly smiles and nodds. Enjolras carefully reaches for his hand and squeezes it for a second, Grantaire just waves from the back and sets the ladder back to its feet. Combeferre introduces them to each other and picks up the book laying in front of the wheelchair before he pushes him towards the front of the room as Courf asks.

After Grantaire pays for all of his books and Enjolras' as well, Combeferre helps them carry the hoard to Grantaires van in front of the shop. The next few hours are calm, there's only one old lady buying a book and a college student picking a few about mathmatics up. So Courf and Ferre spend their time laying on the big couch in the backroom together and Ferre reading aloud while Courfeyrac lays half on him. They only stop once when Courfeyrac whispers "there's something at the door. I can hear it" and Ferre gets up only to come back with his tabby cat, Blaise who drops by on a regular basis as he's free to go around the city all day. They stop reading when Ferre lays back down and Blaise joins them within Courfeyracs arm reach who happily cuddles her the whole time as he and Ferre talk about different topics. Courf states he never had any friends because it was never nice being a kid that couldnt walk and even barely move and it certainly isn't better being a 22 year old who still can't walk and move just a little bit more than he could 15 years ago.

At the end of the day, Combeferre drops Courf, who he declared as his best friend by now, at his house at 18.30. From now on Combeferre joins him at work almost every day as long as he doesn't have to go to therapy and even helps him a bit, as his physical abilities seem to improve, by calculating the prizes of several books faster than Combeferre can even type them into his old register or putting new books into the shelf within his reach. The curly haired is extremely good at memorizing the names, covers, topics and prizes of almost all books of Combeferres store in a few weeks which is very useful when people come by his store to buy a book they only know the cover or the content off. It takes Combeferre exactly 12 days to accept he's fallen in love with Courf which makes him a bit stressed. When he tries to get help from his friends in their groupchat, R simply answeres "you gotta tell him." and Joly sends a "bring him to our next meeting at Jehan's when you told him". The next day he spends busy with many customers which distracts him a bit from his "problem". But of course his friend notices that he is tense and sits him down in the break. Combeferre doesn't say a word at first but as Courf keeps asking him he leaps up to his feet and throws his arms in the air. "Fine! You want to know what's wrong?" he asks exasperated. Courf nodds and tilts his head a little bit. Combeferre moves around the room and messes up his hair. Then: "I'm in love with you!"

Courf eyes widen and he takes quiet a moment before he reaches out to grab Combeferres shirt and make him stop. His friend stares at him, as he drags at his shirt to get him closer. "Stop running around." he says. "I'd like to kiss you." he continues and takes all his strength together to reach for Ferres collar and drag him down to his height. Combeferre obeys and sits back on the couch as Courf cups his jaw with one hand and pulls him closer to press his lips on Combeferres. He feels Combeferre melt into the kiss as his his hands find their way into his curls and he pulls Courf even closer.

None of them notices the ringing of the doorbell OR Enjolras standing in the doorway with R by his side who's taking a photo of them before E coughs. They withdraw and stare at the other two before Courf throws himself at Ferre again. E and R leave chuckling and with a "finally" as his boyfriend lifts Courf out of the wheelchair and onto his lap to pull him closer. "yes, finally." both Courf and Combeferre think to themselves.

[nightingveilxo]

I was tagged by @bittenwrath to name 10 books I want to read in 2020. Thank you!

1. The Care and Feeding of Wapish Widows by Olivia Waite - f/f historical romance

2. Kinship and Kindness by Kara Jorgensen - m/m historical paranormal w/trans MC

3. Edinburgh Midnight - Ian Hamilton Mysteries #3 by Carole Lawrence

4. The Revolutionary and The Rogue by Blake Ferre - m/m historical romance

5. Two Rogues Make a Right - Seducing the Sedgwicks #3 by Cat Sebastian - m/m historical romance

6. Black Sky Morning - Mind + Machine #3 by Hanna Dare - m/m sci fi romance

7. Where the Devil Says Goodnight - Folklore #1 by KA Merikan - m/m contemporary priest/magic romance

8. ?? Untitled #3 book in the series of The Moth and The Moon by Glenn Quigley - historical fiction w/elements of m/m and f/f romance

9. ?? Untitled #2 book in the series of Winsford Green by Ruby Moone - historical romance

10. Hopefully something from @carnationbooks

Tagging @bakerlooandbeyond @bakerstreetcrow @posh-boy-clever-boy @ashildr-rabbit @green-violin-bow @hobbithorse19

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

@wordshakerofgallifrey prompted: ““So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.” & Enj and someone, preferably R” from the ridiculous sentence prompts which I’m still accepting! Disney you get R and a handful of random Amis.  Words: 459 Language Gen

“You are the biggest fucking dumbass I’ve ever met; I swear to fuck.”

Enjolras blinked across the room to where Grantaire sat in the back corner. He’d said it without malice, merely extreme exasperation. It was the first that he’d spoken all night and Enjolras was momentarily thrown off by it.

“And this particular expression of criticism is in regard to…?” Enjolras drawled and raised an eyebrow.

Grantaire rolled his eyes with gusto. “There’s no way you actually think you can lead set up for a rally with a big red cast on. One that you have yet to notice the cats I drew on, might I add.”

“Cats on a cast. Nice,” Bahorel reached out his fist and Grantaire bumped it with a smirk.

Scoffing Enjolras glared at Grantaire. “So, what if I broke my arm? I’m still doing it. It needs to be done and I already made a commitment.”

He felt someone grab his wrist, the one that wasn’t wrapped in a cast covered in his friends’ signatures and – apparently – cats. Enjolras looked to see Combeferre frowning at him. “He’s right. There’s no way you should be helping with the stage on Saturday. Do you really want to have to wear it even longer?”

“You really should be wearing a sling too, just in case,” Joly added. Out of the corner of his eye Enjolras saw Ferre biting back a smile at his fellow med student’s slight mothering.

“We can handle it,” Courfeyrac chimed in.

Feuilly nodded. “It’s not going to be a problem if we’re down one.”

“If it’ll make you feel better you can still supervise,” Courfeyrac waggled his eyebrows and gave a Cheshire smile.

He huffed and slumped back in his chair, not quite defeated but knowing that his friends all made valid points. Enjolras frowned, turning some of his attention to examining the cast closer. “I don’t like not being able to help,” he grumbled.

“We know!” his friends all chorus.

Enjolras looked back up at his friends sheepishly. “There’s bound to be something I can help with?”

Grantaire gave a loud sigh and Enjolras once again glanced back at him. “I signed up to fill the coolers, I’ll switch with you. Putting water bottles in ice shouldn’t be too strenuous, right docs?”

The corner of Combeferre’s mouth pulled up into a small smile while Joly positively beamed. “I think that should be fine,” Ferre agreed.

“There,” Grantaire threw his hands out, “you’re useful again.”

Enjolras nodded his thanks but found himself furrowing his brow at Grantaire again. “Now, is there a reason you named them all after the musical?” he asked, finally having located the doodles.

“Easy, that trailer is fucking awful and it is literally haunting my every waking moment.”

[raisin-gran]

i was tagged by @guide-ferre . thanks sm for the tag !

Rules: put your entire music library on shuffle & list the first 10 songs that come up. then tag 10 others & do the same.

love me with all of your heart - Delilah Montagu

le temps de l’amour - françoise hardy

wasteland, baby! - Hozier

epic III - Hadesdown

bottom bitch - doja cat

first love - The Maccabees

talia - King Princess

art school - remo drive

adore you - Harry Styles

I love you like an alcoholic - the taxpayers

if u haven’t hear some of these, give the songs a listen, they hit

im tagging @owophelia , @merrywanderer-ofthenight , and @photosynthesisprototype !! if u wanna do it though, do it, im not a cop

[mysunfreckle]

i don't know if you're taking requests right now, but if you are, would you please write some more ace!enjolras? (i love your writing by the way!)

I don’tthink I’ve ever written and Enj that wasn’t ace-spec, but I’m guessing youmeant my Modern Means Less Miserable Enjolras, so here you go! ^^

The cocktail party

ExR Pining, Friendship Fluff, 1.7k, cw alcohol.

Enjolras isnot really in the habit of questioning why parties happen. Partly because hegrew up with Courfeyrac, but also because it doesn’t really matter. Not as longas it means that his friends are happy and he gets to be around them.

For thisparty, however, Enjolras is very aware of the reason. The reason is that Jehanand Bahorel are of the opinion that adult life did not include as many cocktailparties a they had been led to believe and this is an attempt to remedy this.

Which iswhy Enjolras is currently drinking third (?) strawberry daiquiri and happilywatching Feuilly teach Bahorel how to juggle with limes.

They’re atBahorel’s house, of course. The only place with enough  actual party space for all of them. There’s noone to bother them here either, since the last of his roommates also seems tohave taken off last month. Weird, that.

Enjolrastakes another sip from the pretty glass.

“Enj! Enj!”

Enjolrassmiles at the sudden presence of Courfeyrac’s arms around his middle.

“Hey Courf,having a good time?”

“The best,”Courfeyrac beams, letting go after one more tight squeeze. “I’m gonna fetchBaz’ guitar.”

He dartsoff again before Enjolras can stop him and that’s really rather disappointingbecause Courfeyrac gives good hugs and hugs are nice and if Courfeyrac couldstay still for more than a minute at the time Enjolras could hug him back. Thatnever happens until much later at the parties though, when Courfeyrac has gonea bit sleepy and feels like leaning on people.

Actually,that sounds like a wonderful idea. Because he’s not sleepy, but he is tired, and he wants another hug.

Enjolrasputs his empty glass down on the nearest flat surface, deciding that he’sdefinitely had enough to drink for tonight. Those were a bit stronger than what he’s used to. He should go get a glass ofwater. And find someone to hug, or lean on, or both. Except Courf is so muchsmaller than him. Too small to comfortably lean against. Or maybe that isn’tright. Because Grantaire is also smaller than him – not that much smaller, but still – and he looks like the perfect sizeto lean against. He certainly does now anyway, sitting hunched over in a cornerwith Musichetta.

Enjolrascan’t quite see what they’re doing, but he cansee Grantaire is wearing one of his soft sweaters. He’s leaning his head closeto Chetta’s and Enjolras can just see the edge of a grin as he talks.

The smileon Enjolras face is as undeliberate as the decision to move towards them.

…

“Honestlythough, Chetta,” Grantaire tuts. “I’m disappointed in you. What is even the point of doing my nails if they don’tglitter.”

“Listen,”Chetta sniffs. “When you boys stop using my purse as a cargo bay, I may haveroom to bring more than three colours.” She traces the edges of Grantaire’sthumb nail with expert precision. “Anyway, you’re getting the bi flag, so don’tcomplain. And stop twitching your fingers!”

Grantairemakes an effort to keep one hand still while snapping the fingers of the otherand Chetta gives him an exasperated look. It’s one of her best, and Grantairemeets it with a grin. There are very few things more comfortable than beingfussed over by Musichetta. Grantaire is low-key convinced that’s the reviewthat all her clients would give her, if they felt like they could get away withit: “A+ wedding planner. 10/10 would be fussed over and shepherded again.”

Before hecan put this into words in an appropriately witty and teasing manner, however,something happens that he isn’t prepared for in any way.

Enjolrascomes out of nowhere, sinks down next to him like the sun setting after atiring day and…drapes himself against Grantaire from behind to look over hisshoulder.

He smellslike strawberries.

That is asfar as Grantaire can get his brain to supply anything even slightly informativebefore he freezes completely.

“What areyou guys doing?” Enjolras asks and Grantaire may not be able to move or thinkright now, but he’s still very awareof the fact that Enjolras’ breath is ghosting past his neck.

The nextthing he’s aware of is that Enj sounds…

“I’mpainting R’s nails,” Musichetta says pleasantly. “You okay there, Enj? Yousound a bit wobbly.”

“I’m fine,”Enjolras mumbles. “I wanted to sit down, and I wanted to sit down here,because…”

There is ashort pause for a deep sigh and Grantaire’s eyes meet Chetta’s for a moment.There is a smile pulling on her mouth that is a few steps ahead of Grantaire’s,he’s still stuck on the simultaneously hilarious and frankly distressing notionthat Enjolras is drunk.

“…because Ilike you both so much,” Enj finisheswith a sigh.

He restshis chin on Grantaire’s shoulder and it is literal torture to Grantaire that hecan’t move right now. Not to push Enj off, of course, that would be heinous.Probably a crime of the same calibre as moving when a cat has curled up on yourlap. But Musichetta is still stubbornly painting his nails and Grantaire needsto have photographic evidence of what is going on right now, because he’spretty sure that his brain is going to do it’s best to convince him it neverhappened in the morning. Enjolras is mutteringto himself for fuck’s sake.

On the onehand, part of his brain is definitely still malfunctioning at the fact thatEnjolras is literally pressed up against him all of a sudden, but on the other,Enjolras is drunk and mumbly and trying to cuddle him. For lack of a betterword. And that is the strongest proof he’s had so far that at some point,somehow, he has actually managed to convey to Enjolras that he can be trusted.That he can be his friend and nothing else.

“Enj, you’rea treasure,” Musichetta says warmly. “And you’re keeping R still for me, thankyou for that.”

Grantaireis halfway through narrowing his eyes at her, when Enjolras shifts and says:“Oh, should I move? I didn’t–”

“No,”Grantaire stops him hastily, and he adds, quickly switching to his jokingvoice: “By all means, use me as a recliner.”

“I’m not,”Enjolras protests, but he stops pulling away and that’s all Grantaire wantsright now.

“You havenice hands, Chetta,” Enjolras yawns. His hair is tickling Grantaire’s face withthe way it’s nearly leaning against him.

“Thankyou,” Musichetta smiles, and Grantaire makes a mental note to ask her what kindof superpowers she taps into to keep from making the gleeful noises ofamusement he can see in her eyes.

“They’re sosmall compared to R’s.”

This timeMusichetta doesn’t reply, she just bites her lip, and Grantaire takes a fullthirty seconds to curse his former self for not actually taking out his phoneand not just taking a picture, but filming the whole damn thing. Especiallysince Enjolras seems to be trying to hide his face in his hoodie at the moment.

“Enj,” hesays, trying to cover up the fondness in his voice with as mockingly serious atone he can muster. “If you fall asleep on me, I will ruin this nail polish just to take a picture of you and getBossuet to caption it with a pun. This is nothing personal, it is just aninevitability.”

Enjolraschooses not to turn his head before he replies and Grantaire wishes he couldunderstand the indignant answer muttered into his hoodie, he really, reallydoes.

…

The thingwith having a fairly low alcohol tolerance that makes him go very lazy and verycuddly early on, is that Enjolras rarely actually has hangovers. And hecertainly never wakes up the next day with fuzzy gaps in his memory.

So when hedoes wake up the following morning, he gets to remember absolutely everything.Only now, with his sober self present and in a position to re-evaluate everysingle thing he did last night in terribledetail.

Enjolrasgroans and hides his face into his pillow.

He shouldnot have done that to Grantaire. Not after all the effort it took them to getwhere they are today. It’s selfish, and completely inconsiderate of Grantaire’sfeelings. Because Enjolras is awareof Grantaire’s feelings. There’s just a sort of unspoken agreement that theywill both act as if he doesn’t. Because. Well. His feelings are…different.

Outside hisbedroom door Enjolras can hear the sounds of Combeferre having a sternconversation with the coffee maker. They both have work to do today. So thatprobably means Ferre will come wake him up soon.

He rollsover, making a genuine effort to actually wake up. And push those regretfulthoughts from his mind. What’s done is done. He could text Grantaire toapologize, but it wouldn’t do any good. Probably wouldn’t do anything but callattention to it all and what use is that. Maybe Grantaire doesn’t mind as muchas he should. He rarely does…

He canapologize by watching himself more closely next time. And, possibly, watch Jehan a little bit more closely whilethey’re mixing the drinks. So he doesn’t end up doing something like thisagain.

Except, itreally had seemed like Grantaire didn’t mind. He had made jokes like he alwaysdid. He hadn’t laughed that tense, slightly too-harsh laugh he so often used to awhile ago. He had just been the way Enjolras had come to know him lately. JustGrantaire. Not nervous around him or provoking him or upset with him. Just,good. And it’s been like that. Good.

Maybethat’s why he did it. Because Enjolras can’t quite recapture what exactly wasgoing through his head just before he made the decision to slump againstGrantaire and stubbornly refuse to move in favour of warmth and softness, buthe does remember what it felt like. Allof it. And he’s not going to do it again, of course, he shouldn’t. He won’t. But,he kind of wishes he could.