#enjoltaire angst

[cherriiramen]

I will never be able to explain the sheer feeling of comfort I get when I indulge so deeply in this absolutely heart wrenching tragic couple that I become so sad for them to the point where I’m like: ‘fuck it, that’s enough angst for a while’. And then I create them the happily-ever-after they never got to have, in my silly little head.

Tfym ‘___’ died??? No they didn’t!! They’re STILL ALIVE!!

In fact, right now the two of them are sitting in a the comfiest armchair by the toastiest fire and in the cosiest little oak cottage ever, snogging and reminiscing their past with smiles and happy tears like it was nothing but an adventure, a rollercoaster of a dream they’d woken up from. And now they’re happily married with matching rings on their fingers and a hell of a story to tell their future kids.

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

Ok but why did no-one tell me that GRANTAIRE'S ACTOR SUNG A LOVE SONG TO ENJOLRAS??????????????????

Honestly, who knew this artwork existed and DIDN'T TELL ME?

the audacity

but this song is literally *chef's kiss*

It's not even being subtle about the enjoltaire. (or the angst)

i mean 'i got my feelings bruised by the leader in red' & 'R, you good-for-nothing fool' ?

Kill me now.

when i tell you I screamed

then looked up the original lyrics

then screamed again

at this point i need a spotify playlist with this song 20000 times. at least.

gods i hope it's on spotify

i haven't checked yet

[foap-mactavish]

“I want what they have” Except one of them is always dead 😔

[kjack89]

Dial Drunk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You knew going into this—”

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

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

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

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

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

— — — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One last time.

— — — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[anderperrylover]

MY FAV SHIPS (I THINK ABOUT THEM CONSTANTLY) AS RANDOM LYRICS

AUDREY HALL AND SIEGFRIED FARNON

My baby, here on earth - Showed me what my heart was worth So, when it comes to be my turn - Could you shine it down here for her? (MY LOVE IS MINE ALL MINE - MITSKI)

CHARLIE DALTON AND KNOX OVERSTREET

It took you two weeks - To go off and date her Guess you didn't cheat - But you're still a traitor (TRAITOR - OLIVIA RODERIGO)

SHERLOCK HOLMES AND JOHN WATSON

And if a double decker bus, crashes into us...to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die (THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT - THE SMITHS)

ENJOLRAS AND GRANTAIRE

Where you go, I'm going, so jump and I'm jumping - Since there is no me without you (ACHILLES COME DOWN - GANGS OF YOUTH)

ANNE CUTHBERT AND GILBERT BLYTHE

Settle soft and as pure as snow - I fell in love with the fire long ago (WOULD THAT I - HOZIER)

JO AND FRIEDRICH

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain (MIDNIGHT RAIN - TAYLOR SWIFT)

TODD ANDERSON AND NEIL PERRY

How evergreen, our group of friends - Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls - That we once walked through One for the money, two for the show - I never was ready so I watched you go" (CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS - TAYLOR SWIFT)

LADY SYBIL AND TOM BRANSON

I'll never leave" ... - "Never mind" Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire - Your arson's match your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die - You're the loss of my life (LOML - TAYLOR SWIFT)

LOKI AND MOBIUS

Help, I'm still at the restaurant - Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light - They say, "What a sad sight" (RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME - TAYLOR SWIFT)

AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY

Now that it's done - There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born - How could I fear any hurricane? (FRANCESCA - HOZIER)

ALEC SCUDDER AND MAURICE HALL

Hot summer nights, mid-July - When you and I were forever wild The crazy days, city lights - The way you'd play with me like a child (YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL - LANA DEL REY)

FINN AND POE DAMERON

Everything is blue - His pills, his hands, his jeans And now I'm covered in the colors - Pulled apart at the seams And it's blue - And it's blue Everything is grey - His hair, his smoke, his dreams And now he's so devoid of color - He don't know what it means (BLUE - HALSEY) ARWEN AND ARAGORN

All that bloodshed - crimson colver Sweet dream was over - my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war (THE GREAT WAR - TAYLOR SWIFT)

FARAMIR AND EOWYN

Look at the stars - Look how they shine for you And everything you do - Yeah, they were all yellow (YELLOW - COLDPLAY)

[ratmanrulerofrodents]

jayce and victor are now on the same level in my mind as enjolras and grantaire

[antisocial-cheesepuff]

it’s fluffy and cute and i am not your strongest soldier

[saintmouthed]

rereading I will never know how you see red for the first time probably since 2021 and apparently making myself tear up?

He doesn’t ask the questions he wants to ask. Do you love him? Are you in love with him? Is it nice, knowing you belong together? Is it stressful? Is it as bad as not knowing? Do you even remember, not knowing? Do you know that I love you, that I have loved you, that I will love you? “Will you tell me about orange?” He asks, instead.

what jerk wrote this and is making me cry? ME? no way.

anyway if you're sad enjoltaire lost the fandom poll by 13 votes and you like soulmate AUs, you might like this fic.

[randomwholocker]

it has a title yay May These Memories Break Our Fall yep it's Taylor but istg Long Live fits this fic like nothing else

[imbluedabadeedabadye]

Posting my first Les Mis story! Trigger warning for mentions of death, blood, and guns. I hope you like it!

Enjolras’s plan would have worked if it wasn’t for that no-good cheat Javert.

Instead, here he was surrounded by his fallen comrades- his fallen friends- cornered by the army that had so graciously taken their lives. Here he was, with who he now realized was the love of his life, trapped on a balcony with no way down. The soldiers’ guns were pointing at the lonesome pair, and both Enjolras and Grantaire knew what they were waiting for.

All it took was the wave of a white flag, and their lives would be spared today. Sure, they’d waste away in the galleys- but wasn’t it worth it for a chance to serve their beloved king? The one who this whole revolution was about? The scoundrel of a man who was starving his people and working them to death for the name of the common good?

No. Enjolras would never surrender. One look at Grantaire told Enjolras all he needed to hear- the flag of surrender would only be raised over their dead bodies (quite literally).

With a curt nod, Enjolras turned to the soldiers bedecked in their red and blue, breaking the eye contact his lover- his Icarus- had trapped him in. He raised a shaking fist in the air, grabbed his lover’s hand, and somehow managed to get the words he’d been saying for years out of his mouth one more time.

“Vive la révolution!”

The words had been said. It was too late to go back now.

His fist had collapsed back to his side- he knew this was it. But Grantaire was still there. There was no better way to go than die for the cause the pair had fought so hard for.

The soldiers once again raised their guns, and the two gazed into each other’s eyes. One last glance, before it was too late.

Blue eyes bored into blue eyes. A universe peered into a universe, so different yet so alike.

And the shots fired.

There was no pain, at least not at first. There was never any pain at first. But soon there was too much pain, and all there was was red and black swimming on the edges of Enjolras’s vision, fogging his mind and forcing his body to collapse to the ground.

The irony was too much to handle, and the doomed boy snorted. Wasn’t red supposed to be the blood of angry men? Black- the night that was supposed to end at last?

The revolutionaries had nailed the red, but as far as Enjolras knew there was no end to the night. Yet the night seemed to be overtaking him.

He shuddered and immediately winced, his free hand coming to his stomach. He somehow managed to lift it back up toward his eyes, and was unsurprised by the red coating every inch of his hand.

He was dying. And that was a fact that unfortunately could not be disputed.

But just as the cold had grown too cold, and the light was dimming yet brightening at the same time, Enjolras felt a squeeze on his non-bloody hand.

And suddenly red and black turned into red, black, and blue. And oh, was that blue the most mesmerizing blue Enjolras had ever seen.

He returned the squeeze, even though every part of him was screaming to stop.

“‘Pollo?” Grantaire managed to choke out, yet he seemed so unlike his usual self, so absolutely vulnerable, that Enjolras’s heart panged.

“Y-yes?” Enjolras started coughing, and something (probably blood) trickled down his chin.

“I’m scared to go.”

And those words would forever haunt Enjolras. The once fearless leader broke at the sound of his lover’s confession.

“I’m less scared now that you’re here,” was the only response Grantaire would ever get. The black had become too white, Enjolras was a goner.

Even gods can fall. Even Apollo can join Artemis in the night and Hades in the Underworld.

He succumbed to the cold. Grantaire followed as soon as he felt Enjolras grow still. They never thought they’d wake up from the realm of seemingly eternal unconsciousness.

----

There's more parts to this that I'll post when I get farther in the story. Thanks for reading it this far!

[ayyponine]

Eyes turning a flaming white. We MUST bring back soulmate and soulmate identifying marks fanfic in a big way

[thelightofrebellion]

“You are drunk,” “Perhaps…” Grantaire replies quietly, turning his gaze to the floor. His hands are shaking, his breathing shallow, his whole body buzzing. “Or perhaps I am sober. I don’t know anymore,”

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

the les mis fandom of tumblr should make a new les mis musical.

that's it that's the post

(@permetutotheworld @lemurious do you hear me?)

[lys-9-10]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo Rating: Mature (for substance abuse/cavalier attitude towards drugs) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (one-sided) Summary:

It's okay that you give a shit. You're the only one who does.

[kjack89]

Pops up, chucks a tiny angsty ficlet, disappears again…

Enjolras shouldered the door open, shivering against the sudden sting of icy air as he stepped outside. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to keep his teeth from chattering as he crossed the alley behind the Musain to where Grantaire was lurking next to the dumpster, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. “Thought you quit,” Enjolras said in lieu of a greeting, tucking his hands into his armpits to keep them warm.

Grantaire didn’t look remotely affected by the cold, and as he raised the cigarette to his lips, the orange glow from the tip lit his face in sharp relief. “Well,” he said, exhaling a puff of smoke, “you know what they say about bad habits.”

Enjolras jerked a nod. “Hard to quit,” he affirmed.

“Something like that anyway,” Grantaire said. He took another drag, tapping the cigarette against the top of the dumpster before asking, “Did you need something?”

Enjolras frowned. “What do you mean?”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Just out here to get warm, are you?” he asked, amused.

Since Enjolras’s teeth were now audibly clacking together, he supposed Grantaire had a point. “Just wanted to check on you,” he managed between shivers.

Grantaire rolled his eyes and reached out to draw him close, wrapping his free arm around Enjolras’s shoulders. “Idiot,” he said, with no small amount of affection. “Pretty sure the point of the whole breakup thing means you don’t have to check on me anymore.”

He said it lightly, but his arm tightened around Enjolras’s shoulders, just a little.

There were any number of things Enjolras wanted to say to that, but the problem was, when he was tucked like this against Grantaire’s side, warm and safe, the point of the whole breakup thing just seemed like a terrible idea.

He didn’t say that, though, just reaching out to pluck the cigarette from Grantaire’s fingers, raising it to his own lips. “Well,” he murmured, “bad habits, you know.”

[zqnl]

wip of one-sided enjoltaire bc i crave angst