#breathethemtodeath

[revoluxionnaire-archived]

“I’ll take the couch, you can have the bed.”

Enjolras let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. In truth, it felt as if he hadn’t breathed properly all day, the flurry of the wedding, short as it was, still had him a bit stunned. Few things ever rendered him speechless, but he’d hardly been able to utter a word since the vows. “We can alternate…I suppose.”

[orxstxs]

“When did this turn into an ugly sweater party?”

“ you see that would have happened as soon as Courf and Marius walked in, i swear to the vodka that you have in the cabinet that courf’s sweater sings...” 

[etudiantdupeuple-blog]

‘📦’

What do you get for a man who wants nothing?

A paradox of a man, Grantaire is seemingly never satisfied and yet does not voice what he wants. Enjolras received his name on a slip of paper, a secret Santa, it was called. Unfamiliar with the idea and even more so with his subject, he’d set out immediately to shop.His first idea was a fine wine, but he turned it down right away. To encourage his dinking is to encourage a bad habit. He knows Grantaire on a friendly level only, but it is enough to know that his drinking is not just for fun.  

Enjolras’ next idea was a fine new coat, when he came upon one; Grey wool and lined with down, warm enough for the harsher winters and stylish all the same. He made it to the checkout with it in hand, trying to imagine it on him (and it was not so bad looking, if you asked him) when he realized that it was a couple hundred dollars over the recommended spending for a simple Secret Santa. Nearly defeated, he turned to Combeferre for answers. Combeferre was a stress knitter, and was preparing a matching hat-scarf-mitten set for Jehan. “Maybe you don’t have to buy anything at all,” He’d suggested. “Maybe you can make something.”Enjolras was not a creative person. He bought himself a canvas, some yarn, and several small crafting sets. Stressed by the upcoming party, and his lack of creativity, he followed strict instructions to create a bracelet, a set of coasters, one very sad mitten (or maybe it was a hat) and a painting of a tree. It was a disaster. 

The day of the party, he began to prepare decorations with Prouvaire and Courfeyrac. In his awful reindeer jumper, Courfeyrac made an awful suggestion. To which Jehan replied with devastating enthusiasm. And together they fixed Enjolras to a terrible idea. As night fell and guests began to arrive, Enjolras ignored the angry curl of anxiety in his gut, sipped at spiked egg nog and made small talk while he picked at the terrible sweater he’d been told to wear. He looked utterly ridiculous and felt even worse. When the gift exchange came, it overcame him. Not everyone partook at once, but Grantaire did, gave his gift and watched as no present with his name came up. When he stood to leave, Enjolras intercepted. “Will you come with me for a second?”They ended up on the front porch, standing awkwardly opposite one another. “I had your name,” Enjolras began, before Grantaire could speak. “I had your name and I had no clue what to get you.” He related his failures, and apoligized profusely. Having admitted defeat, he stepped closer, and took one of Grantaire’s hands. Leaning up on his toes, he pressed their lips together. Light, quick, but sweet and soft as he’d ever been. “I am good for... thre- no, Five coffee dates. On me. Which isn’t to say they’re date-dates, and I owe you a couple drinks as well. Not all of them, i do have a budget. And, we can go shopping if you like, for a gift you think you’d like--” He stopped, and stared at Grantaire. He was smiling. He was smiling? Grantaire was smiling at Enjolras and he stopped, frowning, before Grantaire closed the space between them, and kissed him again. 

[byehorel-blog]

“We’re gonna die.”

“Aye, we might, but where’s the fun without a little risk? The sea is full of treasure and glory if you’re willing to chase it. ‘Sides, even if we’re put on the run, we’ve easily got the fastest ship around. It’d take all of England AND Spain to stop the Amie.”

[orxstxs]

"Hey, Enjolras?" Grantaire asked, then bit his lower lip. "Can I ask you something? I mean... I know we've never really talked much or anything, but it's really important..."

Enjolras looked up from the notebook he has as he cocked his head a little watching R for a moment, as his heart sunk for a moment “ sure love anything” 

[achildofxthebarricade-blog]

Through A Glass Clearly

@breathethemtodeath

He had scratched through five pages when he finally gave up. Five pages of notes that spiraled into rambling that was away from the point, the same sentence rephrased so often that he couldn’t remember what it was supposed to look like anymore. He’d been staring at his sixth page, which so far had been doodled with several ridiculous sheep and a large angry looking storm cloud but a positive dearth of words he could use towards his word-count for at least forty-five minutes when Valenting made a quick decision and closed his notebook altogether. It was the work of moments to gather his things, leave a tip for the waitress of the coffee shop he liked to write in, stretch out his aching back and walk outside to his bike. 

Struggling through the writer’s block was not working. Valentin was a dedicated writer but he was not stubborn to the point of insanity. If sitting in Meanwhile Cafe for three consecutive hours was not sufficient to work through this particular knot in his project, then obviously just trying to work through the problem was not the appropriate course of action. He had tried brain-storming, plotting, talking to several friends and fellow students about his options, writing the story from other perspectives, and even finger painting. The last had been suggested by Jehan and had been extraordinarily messy. Something about getting in touch with his inner child. 

So, perhaps it was time to try an alternative route. More than one author had sworn by the efficiency of opiates and alcohol when it came to working through projects. Obviously anything ilegal was out of the question if just for the sake of practicality. Valentin might have several opinions on the ridiculousness over the current state of legalisation of recreational drugs, but for his first foray into writing under the influence it seemed wiser to stick with a tamer , more legally acceptible option. 

 Valentin Enjolras was a man who believe in doing things very thoroughly once he had decided on doing them at all, and this included researching his course of actions and asking advice from those who knew what they were doing. Out of everyone in his friend group no one knew alcohol quite like Grantare. He killed the engine of his bike, pulled off his helmet and walked around to the entrance, dusting down his jeans as he went.

All this was how Valentin Enjolras ended up asking for Mr Grantaire at the front desk of the animal shelter.

[byehorel-blog]

“Do you need me to kill someone for you?”

“That’s so sweet of you, man,” Bahorel responds as he wipes the blood from his face with a sleeve. “Even I can’t dodge 100% of the time. ‘M fine, though, I promise.”