Omg guys I finally did it. I was in a block in a big way and just couldn’t get Constant Knot to go gosh darn it despite COVID giving me time to create. But I got my groove back! Which is why I find myself awake at 2:30 in the morning having just finished giving Constant Knot Chapter 46 (!) one more edit before POSTING!
It’s here, finally and I absolutely appreciate your love and patience.
I am unstuck now, and have actually managed to re-write half a chapter and start headlong into another as I work ahead. Am I horrible for hoping that social distancing measures remain in place just a little while longer so that I can spend some time writing?!
If you’re still hanging around, go check it out!
Constant Knot // Chapter 46: May contain the urge to run away
FIRST — the first two sentences of my current project
Enjolras sits in his back corner, listening and not listening all at once. A notebook and a drawing pad are in front of him as he goes back and forth between sketching Combeferre's concentrated countenance and scribbling down notes for future meetings.
NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.
"Enjolras! There you are." The familiar voice makes Enjolras turn to see Grantaire striding purposefully toward him, frowning.
POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective
(Giant Fic already has an alt PoV for every chapter, so this is another nother PoV, hahah)
This is from a bit I wrote that got cut because I wasn’t happy with how it fit.
The atmosphere feels slightly less overwhelming now that he’s had time to acclimate to it and reset himself, and his eyes have adjusted such that he finds their earlier booth with no effort at all.
Since stepping out, it appears that all of their party has joined in the crushing throng on the dancefloor except for R and Feuilly, leaning eagerly over the table and gesturing enthusiastically at one another. They each have a pint in-hand, and Enjolras carefully maneuvers around Feuilly’s flails as he sits down, narrowing avoiding a hearty slosh of beer.
“Shit, sorry Enj!” The olive of Feuilly’s skin is flush, but it’s clear that he’s tipsy at most.
“No worries,” he reassures the man. “What are you talking about that’s got you so excited?”
Grinning, Feuilly glances across the table at R before looking back to Enjolras. “We’ve been able to reopen donations for Hurricane Maria victims.”
A burst of excitement rises in Enjolras’s chest. “Really?”
“Enj, honestly, things have been taking off like crazy since the rally: we’ve gotten enough pledges that I’ve been able to hire on more full-time staff, we’re getting a lot more attention from existing orgs that wanna help with our side projects...it’s huge.”
“This is all you. We’re just finally figuring out how to manage our momentum.” Enjolras gives a guilty look across the table.
“I hope you don’t think I can hear any of what you just said.”
Laughing, Feuilly spouts rapid Spanish at the man that Enjolras assumes relays their exchange.
“Bruh, Ángel is right, you’re the backbone of this shit,” R responds, thankfully in English. “Blondie’s just a pretty face.”
He makes an effort to sound offended. “Hey.”
“That’s not true, though,” Feuilly responds, coming to Enjolras’s defense with a swing of his stein.
“I suppose he’s also extremely opinionated,” R adds thoughtfully.
Feuilly continues as if R hasn’t spoken. “Enj’s been busting his ass since freshman year pulling all of this together—”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard about the Morse code—”
“—helping look over my business plans, figuring out what issues to tackle—”
“Wait,” R interrupts, “what?”
Enjolras’s eyebrows furrow. “We told you Feuilly was a founding member when we first met.”
“You said there was a fourth founder, you didn’t say it was Feuilly.”
“Who did you think I was referring to in my speech the night of elections?”
“Someone who wasn’t there? I don’t fucking know these things.” R’s beer slams down on the table, liquid sloshing over the edge to maintain the Corinthe’s ‘sticky’ reputation. “Feuilly. Courf and ‘Ferre won’t tell me shit: what’s the dirt on baby Enj?”
“Eighteen years old is hardly—”
“Courf won’t say anything?” Feuilly muses over Enjolras’s complaint, taking a careful sip of what’s left of his beer. “You must be terrible to our fearless leader.”
“Ooh, ‘fearless leader,’ that one’s definitely coming up again.” There’s a twinkle in R’s eye, and for once Enjolras is grateful for the darkness of the bar.
“I suppose he hasn’t told you about Enjolras’s crush then?”
R’s expression lights up. “Baby Enj had a crush? Do I know them?”
He can tell Feuilly is waiting for the okay to share, and flushed though Enjolras may be, he doesn’t see a problem with it. Grabbing at his glass of water, he accompanies a long-suffering roll of his eyes with a small nod that Feuilly seems to accept as permission to continue.
“You’re looking at him.”
It seemed unlikely that R could become any more delighted with the topic, but Enjolras is forced to acknowledge the error of his judgment in the face of a literally open-mouthed R’s excitement.
“No.”
“It’s true,” Feuilly assures. “It’s the hair.” He rattles his head back and forth, the locs pulled atop it shaking.
Rolling his eyes again, Enjolras snorts. “I was a bright-eyed young freshman looking to change the world with my art, and he was a grizzled senior already elbows-deep in post-grad plans to open a shelter: I was enamored.”
R gives a sharp laugh. “Leave it to you to get a hard-on for philanthropy.”
Still laughing, Feuilly shakes his head. “Enj is a great kid, but crushes don’t bode well with being aroace. He’s just my little brother, out here doing all sorts of amazing shit. Giving speeches, ballroom dancing,” he says, nudging Enjolras.
“I also occasionally do art.”
“You know these liberal arts majors,” Feuilly tells R, resting an elbow on Enjolras’s shoulder, and R laughs.
“Yes, because business and finance are changing the world,” Enjolras responds with a playful shove. It’s an old back-and-forth, established and comfortable even years later.
“Whatever,” Feuilly grins, giving Enjolras’s curls a ruffle before standing. “I’m stepping out for a smoke, any takers?”
As tempting as the prospect of going back outside is, the promise of smoke makes Enjolras reluctant. “I’ll pass,” he says, moving to let the man out of the booth.
To his surprise, R also declines. “We’ll pick this up later though, yeah?” R grins wickedly before saying something in Spanish that makes Feuilly laugh.
NEXT — the next line. meaning i will finish the sentence I’m on and write a new one, which you’ll get.
"The event starts in an hour, why are you still in jeans and a t-shirt?"
In his defense, they're his nice jeans and t-shirt, with a cardigan thrown over in lieu of his jacket--it may be Montparnasse's weekend, but Enjolras knows better than to gamble that the consultant won't find out.
BEFORE THE BEGINNING — three sentences (or more) about something that happened before the plot of my current project
(answering about Giant Fic again)
Oh God, so there's A Lot, but I'm gonna leave out the plot-pivotal stuff for now. So Patron-Minette (the local gang that owns the city) was run by Tholomyès, Listolier, Fameuil, and Blachevelle, but they were just assholes and weren't fully realizing the potential of their power in favor of overindulging themselves. Montparnasse (with the implied-but-never-confirmed help of Babet, then working directly under Fameuil in the drugs division) saw that the tides were changing and that people were growing restless and staged a coup. Once things settled, he then expanded, taking out rival gangs one by one until PM more or less ran the city.
In the fic, this series of events is referred to in-passing as The Renaissance.
Err...fiction? There's a romance plotline, but there's also other stuff going on in the meantime.
17. Post the last line you wrote in your WIP
He goes to hang the suit back up where it had been, trying to discern the owners of the other several bags hanging beside his own; a throat clears in the doorway, and Enjolras is reminded of the stern presence still standing watch.
13. What are your working on right now? Share a little snippet or a description.
I have a handful of fics I’m sitting on at varying stages int he writing process, but I’m sure you’re referring to the massive fic I keep referring to in tags and on AO3, and for once I’m not going to be intentionally difficult.
“Courfeyrac, you said you wanted to discuss something important tonight?” hedges Combeferre.
With Courfeyrac, “important” can mean anything from a drippy kitchen faucet to giant surprise birthday parties to moving to a different state. Enjolras braces himself as best he can and knows it still may not be enough.
“I think we should make ABC legit. Bring it above-ground.” Enjolras raises an eyebrow and glances to Combeferre who nods once, slowly. “We do a lot of work—good work, hard work, important work—but a lot of times that work is undermined by the media’s interpretation of us.
“Right now, we don’t come across as very credible. We don’t have a face or real identity, and what we do have,” Courfeyrac glances meaningfully at Enjolras, “is featured on wanted lists in several countries.”
Enjolras looses a sideways grin. “Technically, neither ABC nor Apollo has officially declared support—”
“Becoming legitimate,” interrupts Combeferre. “What would that mean for us? What would that look like?”
“Well,” begins Courfeyrac, pulling his eyes away from Enjolras to look at Combeferre. “I think a non-profit organization might suit our needs. If we ally ourselves with Feuilly’s shelter in an official capacity, we can still provide direct, grassroots support to most of the communities that we normally advocate for and even push to expand operations here and spread to other cities.” Combeferre is nodding.
“Non-profits aren’t allowed to influence government legislation,” Enjolras says slowly.
“No…and yes,” responds Courfeyrac. “So I looked it up,” he says, pulling out his phone, “and while we couldn’t actively lobby for or against legislative acts, we can still run ‘informational meetings’ where we explain what certain bills and acts would do and what it might mean for the people. As long as we aren’t campaigning in one clear direction or the other, we’d be in the clear.” He turns his phone around as proof, though Enjolras doesn’t bother with more than a cursory glance.
Enjolras considers this.
“Enjolras,” Combeferre says seriously. “We’re nearing the ends of what we can do as we are, and Courf and I are trying to start our professional careers. As it stands, we can’t put ABC on our resumes—and that’s not something I begrudge—”
“I begrudge it,” adds Courfeyrac, smiling. “Just a little.”
“But it’s a lot of work. Courf especially, since for him it’s work that he could be getting paid a lot of money to do professionally, and he can’t even include it in his portfolio. And we’re both only getting busier. Soon, I won’t be able to drop whatever I’m doing to talk your way out of an arrest.”
“And! And! And!!” Courfeyrac jumps in. “We could do above-table work for you! ‘Ferre could keep you on legal retainer, I could do marketing work that I could attach my name to…imagine, Enj, I might even come out of this master’s degree with a salaried job in my field!”
“Whoa there with the fantasies, stick with bondage like the rest of us,” comments Bossuet with a tired smile, wiping the tables down in the otherwise empty room.
Courfeyrac rolls his eyes, still smiling, but Enjolras understands. “I want to apologize to both of you then, for having put you into this kind of position. My field being more…flexible, I hadn’t considered the sort of difficulties you two must be facing,” Enjolras grimaces. Even before his arrest record had inevitably forced him out of his Fine Arts masters program, he has had a lot more leniency in both schedule and reputation. Now that his lifestyle comfortably relies on commissions, above and below the table, he is able to choose his schedule and commit much more freely to the ABC. “Of course we can pursue this.”
