#i meant halloween/autumn ones idk why i said winter i have plenty of winter ones

[naomiknight-17]

I don't know how to explain how excited I am to buy some uranium glass

Some of you may understand if I tell you... I spent my twice-yearly Sprinkle Order money on the glass instead. I am not buying sprinkles this season. No big clearance mystery bag from Sweetapolita this winter

Only uranium glass

[kjack89]

30 with e/r please?

30. Too quick, mumbled into your scarf.

idk this was supposed to be something else but then this happened, so. 

ExR, modern AU.

“Grantaire!” Enjolras’s voice echoed through the crisp fall air and Grantaire paused, letting Enjolras catch up with him. “On your way to the rally?”

Grantaire shrugged, giving Enjolras a bemused look. “I had a vague ambition in that direction,” he said. “What’s with the get up?”

Enjolras glanced down at himself. He was wearing his usual red hoodie, but had a few new additions, namely fingerless gloves, a hat with ear flaps and a too-long scarf wrapped a few times around his neck. “Joly got to me,” he said, which was really the only explanation he needed.

Grantaire laughed lightly and shook his head. “Why am I not surprised,” he mused. “Not sure it does much for your street-hard image, though.”

“Pretty sure the years of prep school did the most damage to any kind of street cred I might ever have had, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Enjolras said dryly.

Smirking, Grantaire started walking again, Enjolras matching his stride. “So what’s got you in such an ebullient mood?” he asked, looking over at Enjolras. “It can’t just be the rally today.”

Enjolras shrugged. “It finally feels like fall,” he said as a way of explanation.

“Your favorite season, I presume?” Grantaire asked.

“Something like that, anyway,” Enjolras said with a grin. “It always just...I don’t know, it does something for me. Means something, I guess, more than just, you know, Halloween and Thanksgiving and Indigenous Peoples’ Day.”

“And what does autumn mean for you?” Grantaire asked with a slightly mocking grin.

“Hope,” Enjolras said simply, taking a half-step out of his way to step on a particularly crunchy leaf. “I know that spring is meant to be the season of rebirth and all that, but for me, it’s always been fall. It’s like…” He trailed off, glancing around. “It’s like the ultimate test of faith, watching the leaves fall, watching everything go dormant, and still believing that it will come back again.”

“Always the optimist,” Grantaire said, but without his usual taunting edge.

Enjolras glanced over at him. “Better than the eternal cynic,” he said, without any real heat. “What about you? What’s your favorite season?”

Grantaire shrugged, kicking a pinecone and watching it skitter away. “Spring, I guess,” he said.

“Why?” Enjolras asked, with slight curiosity. “I would’ve expected winter, given everything.”

Grantaire looked at him, weighing his options, and opted for sincerity for once. “Because spring is when all the colors come back,” he said. “When I’m, uh, when I’m depressed, it can feel like all the color has bled out of my life, but it’s always the first sign of me getting better, when I can really see colors again.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “Can you do me a favor?” he asked.

Grantaire’s brow furrowed. “Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“The next time the colors start to fade? Will you tell me?”

Grantaire searched Enjolras’s expression, seeing only determination and a little bit of concern, and he sighed. “There’s nothing you can do—” he started, but Enjolras cut him off.

“I know,” he said quickly. “But I also know faith doesn’t come easy to you, and someone needs to believe that they’ll come back again, and that — that I can do.”

“I—” Grantaire’s voice broke and he looked down at the ground, unexpected emotion welling in his chest. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Enjolras told him, and when Grantaire made to keep walking, Enjolras caught his arm. “I mean it.”

Grantaire turned to him, surprised by their sudden proximity, and before he could say anything, Enjolras pulled him into a quick hug, one Grantaire was too startled to fully return. “I love you,” he said instead, the words mostly mumbled into Enjolras’s scarf.

“What did you say?” Enjolras asked, grinning slightly as he pulled away..

Grantaire forced a smile. “Nothing,” he said dismissively, shoving his hands in his pockets as he backed away. “I just said be safe out there today.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Ok, Mom,” he teased. “As if I haven’t done this plenty of times before.”

He had, and Grantaire knew that. Despite the three words Grantaire had almost had the courage to say, nothing had changed between them, and this rally would be no different than the dozens of others that Grantaire had watched from the sidelines. Even if he had said them loud enough for Enjolras to hear, Grantaire wasn’t naive enough to think that those words alone would change anything.

But he couldn’t help but feel that there was something different now.

So he took a deep breath and looked at Enjolras evenly. “I know,” he said. “But still. Be safe.”

For a moment, it looked like Enjolras might tease him further, but then his smile softened and he ducked his head. “Ok,” he said, and Grantaire half-smiled in response.

“Ok,” he echoed, slowly backing away.

“I can make no promises, you know,” Enjolras called after him.

“I know,” Grantaire told him.

And he did.

With the same certainty that spring would eventually come again.