#we're trying to alternate POVs (enjolras / outsider / enjolras / outsider) until the wedding

[stoppit-keepout]

FRUIT SALAD YUMMY YUMMY PLEASE, MY GOD (for the wip grab bag meme)

HELLO!! this is a collab with ps, hi ps :)

THE TITLE: we got capital-O Obsessed with the Wiggles cover of Elephant, can I explain why? not particularly. feels like an elephant shakin' his big red trunk for the hell of it! so we called the doc "fruit salad (yummy yummy) and then got the proper title of the fic from the wikipedia page on fruit salad.

THE FANDOM: Les Misérables :) this one's already partially on AO3, we just gotta continue! [flexes]

THE CONCEPT: we collectively lost our minds over The Mirror Has Two Faces, a 1996 Barbra Streisand joint where she sees herself as ugly and gets into a companionable and platonic (?) marriage with Jeff Bridges, who had been having SO MUCH UNFULFILLING SEX that it was interfering with his career and life goals. Anyway, this time it's Grantaire/Enjolras :)

THE EXCERPT: (from a future ch., also largely part i wrote even though i really wanted to do a part ps wrote)

"You don't understand how beautiful he is," Grantaire groans into his hands. "It's like he was designed in a lab."

Eponine rolls her eyes and keeps re-stocking the bottled waters in the fridge under the bar. "We have very different taste in men," she reminds him. "But I'm happy you're happy."

Grantaire had shown up in the early afternoon with two massive tote bags of papers and proportionally massive bags under his eyes. Apparently it's midterm season and nobody gives lecturers people to help with marking, so he's been doing nothing but grade all week. Eponine had been wondering where he'd gotten to--last year, he'd been around so often that they'd actually gotten to be passably good friends, but it turns out that teaching at four separate universities is a lot more inconvenient than doing the same number of courses for just one or two. And the idiot's also decided to start dating at the same time? If Eponine ever wants additional proof that more years of schooling doesn't mean anything about being smarter, she need look no further.

"Am I happy?" Grantaire asks philosophically. His voice is still muffled by his palms, but he peers out through his fingers at Eponine.

"If you're not, your standards are too high."