#serious des talks.

[brian-kinney-apologist]

i saw sam's new pics. this is literally theee book lestat. this man is never getting rid of him. sam is possessed forever and ever.

[the-casbah-way]

i’m assuming jamie was written out for real-world logistical reasons but i don’t think he could or should have come back anyway. when the attack dog goes rabid and gnaws through his own fucking leash there's nothing much anyone can do but stand there and watch. you can train a dog to bite for you but once they've got enough of a taste for blood they're going to stop giving a shit about who they've got between their teeth so long as there's something to tear into. maybe malcolm never had jamie on a leash in the first place. maybe jamie didn't bite because malcolm asked him to. maybe he just liked the taste of blood. malcolm hired a loyal dog and got what he paid for because at the end of the day jamie stayed so loyal that it became the death of him. loyal to the party. not malcolm

[sydmarch]

ok actually I have one more thing to say but as someone who actively participates in fandom, fandom is rotting some people's brains I swear. "please don't hate me for this it's just my take" is for shit like "I actually think blorbo would be a top" not for when you're completely showing your ass talking about fictional portrayals of addiction in a way that says a lot more about how you view real people who are actually struggling with addiction in real life than it does about your whether or not you like a character

[raylasgf]

some people’s negative critiques about the dragon prince are literally so fucking stupid like “why couldn’t they just do this so that wouldn’t have happened, they wouldn’t be in danger!” / “why was there so much deux de machina???” / “they could’ve just done that to make their lives easier!!!” / “x character made such a dumb decision”

it just makes me question, have you never, in your life, watched a fucking show? do you want the series to be two episodes long or something? how will the plot exist without some drama. the main characters are teenagers, they will make mistakes! and deux de machina has been a writing technique since before fucking christ, why are you so surprised about it being used now??

[sweetandsourcookies]

lying here in bed and thinking abt how alienated out i feel in the cookie run fandom. and then theres a polish sitcom playing in the background from a different room.

[justgayrevolutionnaries]

Of snowflakes and revolution

My gift for @fructidors for the @drinkwithme-exchange ! I was more than happy to make another fic for you, this time I wanted to focus on Grantaire an Jehan and I had so much fun writing about them, I hope you enjoy <3

This one takes place in canon era, a few weeks before the Barrière du Maine episode.

Read it below or find it on Ao3 !

February 1832

“You know, my friend, since you forced me to go out, I feel the least you could do is look happy I obliged.”

Jean Prouvaire’s words seemed to be met with an immediate success, as the man facing him, though he didn't assume the happy look expected of him, was effectively snapped back to reality and considered him with an ironic stare.

“I would apologize, but I should have thought you would be more than eager to look out that window yourself - are you not the same one who would rather talk about the shapes of the clouds than listen to Enjolras pestering us with practical matters ? I am curious what you should have to say about the snow out there.”

In Grantaire’s defense, although he was not usually one to admire the landscape, it was not everyday you could find Paris under the snow, and both of them had a feeling they should revel in the occasion, as they did not know when they would come across such a view again - or even if they ever would. In fact, Prouvaire’s face as he called out to his friend was more bemused than actually upset, as he had barely been able to tear his eyes from the window himself since they had sat down at the Corinthe.

The pair would usually meet at Prouvaire’s apartment, although it was so messy these days that there was barely enough room for him to move around, let alone his imposing and exuberant friend. Not that it bothered the poet in the slightest, it seemed almost natural for him to live amidst a mess of worn out-books, pieces of paper filled with fragmented verses and various flowers all around, and since there was always a bottle of good wine to be found somewhere in this mess, Grantaire did not mind either. This time however, upon finding out that his friend had been so absorbed in his readings that he had completely neglected his mortal needs such as buying decent food, Grantaire had positively dragged him out of the building, claiming that “burying yourself in books will make you even more boring than Combeferre” and that he needed to go out immediately to prevent this unfortunate occurrence from happening.

Which was how the two of them had found themselves walking along the quays of Paris under the freezing wind, looking for a decent place to eat. The streets were cold, probably colder than they had been in years, and although this did not affect their enthusiasm in the slightest, all Jehan could think about was that they would not be able to show their faces at the Musain for weeks to come, as they would never hear the end of it if Joly was to catch them with a cold.

Either way, as one could have expected, their wandering had led them to the Corinthe ; the cabaret was not exactly an establishment that could be qualified a “decent place to eat at” but it seemed any other place would have felt wrong - at least that was Courfeyrac’s usual saying to justify their constant going back. Well, that and the fact the waiter here knew Grantaire so well that she immediately brought not one, but two bottles to their table- two bottles that the man had been eyeing with envy since they had sat down.

As he reached for one, however, Jehan immediately slapped his friend’s hand away, blatantly ignoring the offended look he was met with.

“I will remind you - do not give me that wounded look, capital R - I will remind you that I agreed to come only if you did not inebriate yourself before we even got the chance at a meal together.”

Grantaire merely wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought.

“Really, Prouvaire ? You, of all people, are going to tell me I am not allowed a drink today ?”

“Actually, I had expected my winning personality was enough to keep you good company - in fact, I shall take great offense if I find you brought me here only to immediately replace me with a bottle of wine. I should be upset, really. Positively vexed.”

The stern words only earned him a sarcastic look from his friend, who was used to Prouvaire’s theatrical lectures enough to know he did not mean one word of it.

However, though the redhead enjoyed teasing his friend about this subject, the truth was that being around Prouvaire had an unexpected effect on Grantaire. While the man was ever the most likely to grab a drink, and had drunk himself to oblivion more than once after a disdainful look from Enjolras, Jehan’s presence often sufficed to help him sober up. Not that the poet himself did not enjoy a drink, he was never the last to hold a glass of good wine to his lips, but he somehow seemed able to soothe Grantaire’s temperament with his mere words - after sharing a meal with the two of them, even Courfeyrac had marveled at the man’s sober self, effectively assigning Jehan the name of a “miracle worker”.

As if to acknowledge this, Grantaire’s eyes softened as he answered :

“And I am more than grateful for that company, Prouvaire. Although I think you are avoiding my question.”

At this point he took a solemn face and leaned in closer, earning him a puzzled look from Jehan.

“You will have to remind me what question you are talking about, R. I am afraid you were not the only one not paying attention.”

Grantaire leaned in even closer if that was possible and, whispering dramatically, he asked :

“What about the snow ?”

Prouvaire smiled as he understood what his friend meant. He leaned back into his chair, taking a puff of his pipe as he assumed a pensive look.

“The snow, uh ? A white mantle that comes to cover our whole city, petals white and pure, as if they had been sent by the gods themselves. For all we know, Chione could still be the one blowing snowflakes down until they reach us, so small and yet all chiseled by her hand, one by one. ”

“Is that all ? You are letting yourself go, Prouvaire. I expected more of-”

Grantaire burst out laughing as Jehan threw his hat at him, deliberately missing his face.

“Would you just let me think, you heathen !”

He closed his eyes to better concentrate, deciding that his friend’s ironic smile was not helping him at all.

“City asleep in the silence

Footsteps of a ghost in the night-”

“A ghost, really ? It seems to me those appear every time you try and write a verse about anything.”

“And why should we not talk about spirits ?” Jehan countered. “They are all around us. But if you have better inspiration, feel free to share it ; I shall be glad to hear what you have to say.”

Though caught off guard, Grantaire was more than happy to oblige.

“Snow falls from the sky like sparkles in the dark- no, this one doesn’t feel right. Keep going, you are better at this than I am.”

“No, no, wait, you had a good one with this. Snow falls down from the sky, sparkles in the dark / Black and white as far as my eyes can see…”

Here the poet stopped for a moment as he seemed to come back to reality, and he blushed slightly at the pride written on Grantaire’s face.

“I can keep going, if you want me to,” he said almost timidly.

“Of course you could. You seem to have a gift for this, you know. Poetry- your sensitivity seems to come almost naturally in your words.”

“You are not so bad with words yourself, my friend. You should consider coming by to help us write a speech, one of those days.”

Though light-hearted and seemingly nonchalant, the offer was merely met with a disdainful scoff from the man facing him.

“A speech ? So I can stand by and make a fool of myself with nonsense while Enjolras tells me to go home ? I don’t see what use I could be there. You should know by now your speeches mean near nothing to me.”

As Jehan was about to answer, his eyebrows furrowed, he found himself choking on the smoke of his own pipe. His friend seemed used to this occurrence, as he began softly patting the redhead's back with a bemused smile.

“I am a lost cause, Prouvaire. You should go waste your time on someone else. Besides, you should know Enjolras would never allow me in the vicinity if he is writing a speech to rally workers - or whatever it is you are trying to do - I would only spoil his credibility.”

“Grantaire, I have seen you go on for hours about the most beautiful of subjects - do you think I don’t remember that time you made up a limerick in just a few seconds, with only a candle for inspiration ? Your problem is not your style of speech, because you are splendid at it, it is merely your convictions.”

The suddenly serious tone of the poet was not lost on Grantaire, who leaned back in his chair to consider him thoughtfully.

“That is quite the compliment you are giving me here. Where are you going at with this flattery, if I may ask ?”

“I heard Enjolras is looking to make a census a few weeks from now- he believes it could be of use soon. He may be looking for someone to go to the Barrière du Maine, and I believe you are a familiar of Richefeu’s.”

Jehan understood he had got his friend’s interest as he saw, for the first time, a glint of surprise in his eye.

“You really have thought about this, have you not ?”

“What I am trying to say is, if you want to be taken as seriously as you deserve, you have to show what you are capable of. I believe you should try and convince Enjolras to let you go, just this once. You might even find you actually have beliefs- whether you are willing to admit it or not.”

As Grantaire opened his mouth to try a last word of protest, he added :

“And if you still think I was wrong about this then, I promise to buy you a meal to make up for it- and a decent one this time.”

Lost in his thoughts, his friend did not answer him immediately ; and when he did his response was lost in the noise of the conversation surrounding them. However, Jehan’s words seemed to have worked like a charm at reinvigorating Grantaire, as when the two of them finally left the café, he was engaged in one of those soliloquies not even Jehan dared to interrupt.

“Your friends may despise me, but I will have you know I am more than capable of starting a revolution if I put my mind to it. I should like to think I am not an idealist, what good did that ever do to anyone ? I refuse to die for your revolution. Prouvaire says I shall become a mere spirit too one day. I call this nonsense. Men will take a look around, and the snow bothers them no more than the sun ; still they talk of battles and oppression. I am more than happy to say I will leave the guns and the glory to you, my friend - although I shall personally be very disappointed to see a gun in your hands. You are, like me, a man of sentiment, and we shall-”

Grantaire’s grandiloquent speech was cut off abruptly as the wind caught a hold of his hat, causing it to fly off along the boulevard, a few feet before the two men. He swore profusely as he began running after it, followed by the redhead who was laughing heartily, turning his face upwards to feel the snow landing on his skin.

God, Jehan loved snow. He really wished they would get to see it fall again - next year, hopefully.

[grady1285]

Reasons why I vibe with Sigma (personal headcanons included):

music playing in head on a daily basis + affinity for music

space is cool!!!!!!!!! really cool!!!!!!!!!!!

zones out frequently

cat person! (also likes dogs but prefers cats)

probably has autism

prefers not to go to social events

does NOT know how to romance

forgets to do basic things like eating

a bit scatterbrained

would LOVE to make tiny models of things but doesn't have enough time to do it

As you can probably tell I love him very much I wish he was real

[ndostairlyrium]

came for complaining, left without a nose

[minglana]

grrrrrrrrrrrrr apparently the plumber came to check my radiators while i was in class and he said they were working fine....and now the dorm worker (who is a ver special woman who is (in her opinion) always right) told me. and she probably thinks im a liaaarrrrrr

[beesorcery]

google how do i tell my dad that the reason i keep bringing up elon musk's transphobia isn't that i've got gen z political tunnel vision that makes me blind to his "innovation" in electric cars but because i am desperately crying out for you as the father of a trans child to feel just as outraged and angry as i am that that man has so much power

[averysmallcetacean]

ok, so someone might've noticed that I've been talking alot about this one friend in tags and stuff, this is going to be about them and might be a bit rambly/overdramatic so bear with me. If you do read this I would really appreciate any advice inc just saying "you're being stupid, stop worrying" I literally have no one I can talk to about this so I would really appreciate it <3

ok so this friend and I have gotten much closer in the past few months which I've been really happy about. I haven't had close friends in a long time so it's been nice to have someone I actually look forward to seeing, it makes the hellhole that is school more bearable. Also, we are both quite physically affectionate people while none of my other friends are that physically affectionate so that's been nice yk. Anyway, I get attached to people quite quickly and they've rapidly become my favourite friend (and maybe my favourite person). I care about them so much and honestly just want to see them happy, I love them (platonically) yk.

But I'm worried that I've just gotten way too attached and that to them I'm just a friend and not someone they care too much about. Cause, like for me this is a really special friendship, I really value the time we spend together and the fact that we can be physically affectionate. But they have other friends who they are arguably much closer with and who they are also physically affectionate with and I'm worried that I've misinterpreted and that we aren't really that close and that they're just like that and I've just gotten overattached. It's not like they've been awkward with me or anything, if anything they've gotten more affectionate lately but like, it probably means nothing to them but to me it's like the highlight of my day when I get to hang out with them.

tldr: I really care about my friend but I'm worried that I've misinterpreted and that I am not really important to them at all

p.s. If you are my friend and you've seen this for some reason (if you have then like, you know who are lol), then like no you haven't, this was all a weird dream

[olipopsoda]

"if you were talking about the person running this blog then I'm gonna need you to tell me your age before this continues" bud have you accidentally been soliciting minors?? 😭

bro the minor was the one soliciting me 😭

[bumblingbabooshka]

let it be known that I regularly send your Voyager memes to my wife, a Voyager fan from a very tiny age who met several of the cast when she was a kid, and she loves them every time!

No one talk to me again THE H. Powell Smith ... creator of Eugene Hartmann looks at MY silly memes and shows them to their wife .... my week is made.

[mallahanmoxie]

you know something that spirited away accomplishes very thoughtfully is the honest recognition of the magnitude in which children (and little girls particularly) are preoccupied with back doors and small spaces and secondary exits where you can exist on your own in the periphery of the bustle of the adults (ex. the entrance to the furnace room, the side entrance/porch of the bathhouse, the balcony outside the room overlooking the sea). those kind of places always featured prominently in my dreams (and continue to do so) and were often the only places us children could try our hand at solemn privacy (albeit a dramatic sort of it)

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

[vampirehowl]

girl huh?????? 💀😭💔