my stuff: les miserables


Historical Paints Series - Grantaire + Verdigris

Verdigris is a blue-green pigment that has been used since antiquity, whose name derives from an Old French phrase meaning “green of Greece.” Though it was the most vibrant green pigment available for much of history, it had an unstable color prone to changing over time, making it tricky to work with. It ultimately fell out of favor in the 19th century as newer, more stable greens became available.

Enjolras was a chief, Combeferre was a guide. One would have liked to fight under the one and to march behind the other.

About your hands

Enjolras couldn’t understand Grantaire. He had no idea how R’s mind worked. He was the most honest liar in his life. But there was this one thing that Enjolras could use as a tranlator of Grantaire’s thought and emotions.

His hands.

  • Grantaire always was so careless, his drunk smile could tell you a story of his last night.
  • His voice always brings him to the ground when his idea was to high. 
  • But sometimes, in the middle of an argue his fingers held a bottle a little harder.
  • Enjolras remembered protest where everything went wrong. He didn’t saw R in a crowd, he didn’t know if he even been there. Then someone said one word too much. Someone throw a first punch. 
  • Few hours later they were in Feuilly’s place. Grantaire was the last one who arrived and he wasn’t happy. His backbag was full of bandages and hydrogen peroxide and painkillers. 
  • When he looked at Enjolras his face was like “I told you so. I was right”. 
  • But when he removed his jacket Enjolras saw that his knuckles were wounded and bruised. 
  • His words were full of mockery but when he bandaged Enjolras’ back his hands were gentle and warm.
  • After that Enjolras began watch more closely.
  • He discovered that when R was happy his fingers knocked on the table - or chair or his leg or someone else leg - a steady rhythm. He gestured a lot when he was spoke to someone. 
  • When he was sad or when he needed a support but he didn’t know how to ask for one he kept his hands in pockets. He avoided contact as if he was afraid that if he touches someone he may not want to let go
  • When he was arguing with Enjolras his fingers were pressed to his thigh.
  • In stress he would clench a fist and loosen it.
  • It took him a month to understand how Grantaire works. The more he knew, the more he understood, and he wanted to understand more. This knowledge was his addiction.
  •  People said “If you want to defeat the enemy you need to understand them but if you understand them you may not want to fight anymore. For the first time in his life Enjolras know this feeling. 
  • More often he thought about taking R’s hand, he wanted to feel the heat, his rough skin damaged by paint and work. He wanted to kiss his knuckles. 
  • He wanted to see his face when he does it.
  • One of the things that he discovered was what Grantaire’s hands were doing when they were in the middle of a peaceful conversation about anything that could help them to keep that peace for a little longer. 
  • They sat at a table in Musain. R was early this time because he brought a posters that he made for Enjolras. 
  • His hands rested on the table. His finger drew on the counter otherworldly patterns. Grantaire wasn’t aware of what he was doing.
  • His eyes where on Enjolras’ face and he listened him but Enjolras wasn;t looking at him when he spoke to him. He was looking at Grantaire’s hands that looked as if they wanted to reach for him, but gave up the idea.
  • Enjolras wanted Grantaire to do it, oh he wanted it so bad, but he knew that R wouldn’t do it. He would just press his fingers to his thigh.
  • So Enjolras reached for his hands, slowly.  

Sorry, it’s just another stupid post, but my heart is broken and my head want to explode. I’m so tired guys. But here I am. 

For the latest addition to the “modern au with canon era fashion” collection, Grantaire and Feuilly displaying my dual reaction every time I walk into an art store.

I’m aways up for Mythology AUs, so have a little Muse of Lyric Poetry!Jehan and God of Darkness!Montparnasse flirting and kissing in a forest. Because reasons. Also I blame @legle‘s art

The moon was high in the sky when Jehan hid behind tree trunks, its light playing on the foliage, looking for cracks and entrances between the leaves. The ground was freckled with silver rays. In spite of the darkness, the forest was alight.

Jehan listened carefully for any sound that didn’t come from the trees growing or the ground buzzing with life. They could hear it all. The bark stretching, the branches thriving, the leaves budding. But it was not life they sought that night. They were waiting for chaos.

A twig snapped. A thrill went up Jehan’s spine, the muse pricking up their ears for more. They heard a soft breeze laughing in the grass, tickling the blades and brushing Jehan’s hair. From the darkness, a voice rose:

“Who summoned me here?” Only silence answered. In their chest, Jehan felt their heart leaping, sending sparks down to their fingertips. “Show yourself.”

Jehan’s hand slid across the bark of the tree that hid them. It was aged, and all coarse edges. Would Montparnasse feel like this, when they’d touch him? Or would their fingers run across his skin like silk? Biting the inside of their cheek, the muse took a side step and revealed themself.

Keep reading

I’ve wanted to do something with Joly and this lyrics for awhile now, so I figured why not add to my modern au with canon era fashion collection?

(The song is I’m Yours by Jason Mraz, if anyone’s wondering.)

When You’re Playing With Desire

Slow Burn, Friends With Benefits AU.
Words: 12,019

If you asked him, Enjolras would say that he couldn’t really remember how it had all happened. That it just kind of did and now here they were together; their breaths catching slightly and their bodies pressed together.

That would be a lie, however. Enjolras remembered every aspect of how this odd and exciting situation had came to be.

It had started with a joke the day before. It was a brisk Spring afternoon and the weather was wavering on the cusp of pleasant and chilly. The sun was out, the flowers were in bloom, the sky was beautiful, and Enjolras was on edge.

Read The Rest On Ao3

I wanted to write another little ficlet for the big V-Day! I figured that, even if I don’t have a cute boyfriend Ferre sure does! So, here is my little fluffy Valentine’s Day ficlet for my lovelies Courf and Ferre! ___________________________________________________

Certain truths would always be instilled into Combeferre’s mind.  He loved his friends.  He adored his boyfriend, Courfeyrac.  He would always be there for anyone that needed him, no matter the time or place.  And he hated glitter.  

Of course, he tolerated it because Courf had a minor obsession with the stuff, and honestly when he got going it was actually incredibly adorable.  But it got EVERYWHERE.  Which is why, when Valentine’s day came around as it always did, Ferre tended to avoid their apartment as much as it was humanly possible to do.  

Valentine’s day was one of the four times of year that Courf tended to go overboard, the other three being New Years, Christmas, and Easter.  Everyone got a handmade card…and it was covered in glitter.  He almost felt the need to apologize in advance to his friends, but they knew.  They always knew, and they always displayed their cards in very obvious places, and Courf would beam with happiness whenever he saw them.  

Even Enjolras, whose hatred of glitter far outweighed his own, put the cards on display (in plastic bags so the glitter didn’t perform a hostile takeover).  Then again, he did live with Grantaire, who was also an artist, who probably also made a ton of art related messes in their apartment – it was more than likely that he just didn’t like the glitter because he already had a messy artist in his place that he had to clean up after.

Regardless, the glitter had become a rather consistent presence in his life, and despite his dislike, every time he found a piece of it on him it made him grin because it reminded him of the man that he loved with everything he had.

“Is everything ready, Jehan?” he asked quickly.

“Yes!” the redhead replied as he picked up several bottles of glitter that Jehan had made especially for today.  They were bottles that had been emptied, modge-podged, dusted with glitter, and then sealed again with a note inside, a little puzzle that Courf would have to put together before he got his Valentine’s day present.

The poor guy had been trying to plan his annual V-Day Party for weeks, but all of his friends had told him they were already busy or had “conflicting schedules”, so he hadn’t actually been able to plan a party. Ferre on the other hand, had planned a party.  All of their friends were busy setting up (except for Jehan, Montparnasse, Bahorel and Feuilly, who were helping him keep Courf distracted for the day), and that night would hopefully be one of the best parties that Courf had never planned.

“Come on guys, tell me what’s going on!”

Ferre could hear Courf’s voice on the stairs and he was grinning from ear to ear.  Tonight was the night.  He could barely stand to wait, wishing that he could just dash over and pull his best friend, his boyfriend, into his arms and kiss him. But he couldn’t.  The waiting would make this so much more worth it.  More footsteps, more whining from Courf…and then-


The words jumped out of his mouth, a wide grin plastered onto his face at the sight of his wide-eyed, completely shocked boyfriend.  

“What…?” he blinked.

“We planned a surprise Valentine’s Day party for you, bud!” Grantaire chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Figured we’d save you some time and energy this year.”

“But…but I always…” Courf stammered, staring at Ferre with disbelieving tears in his eyes.  “You did all this?  Just for me?” he asked.

“Well…yes.  For you and…kind of for me too…” he admitted as he walked over and tugged him into the middle of the room.  “Courfeyrac – you and I have been through a whole hell of a lot together…”

“Yes, we have.” He said with a small frown, tipping his head slightly as he looked up into Ferre’s eyes.  “Are you okay, Ferre?  You look really nervous…”

“I am.” He said, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly.  “I am because…well…”

“Just say it, Ferre.” Enj hissed into his ear.

“Courf…” he said, dropping onto one knee and holding up a small box.  “Will you-AH!” he gasped as Courf flung himself into his arms and kissed him deeply.  

“Yes!” he squeaked happily, grinning from ear to ear.  “Yes I will marry you, you big nerdy goofball!”

“I didn’t even get to ask!” he protested, though he was grinning as well.  “Are you…are you sure, though?” he asked.  “It’s a really big commitment, I know, I just…I want to.” He said softly.

“Me too.” Courf said softly.  “So, yes, Combeferre.  I will marry you, and you are probably going to regret-“

“Don’t.” Ferre said, pulling him into his arms and holding him tight.  “I will never regret a single day that I get to hold you in my arms like this, or wake up next to you, or even the glitter that seems to fall off of you like a second skin.  You are mine, Courf, and I could never ever regret you.”

Courf huffed with laughter and nodded, closing his eyes.  “Okay.” He said softly.  “I believe you.” He murmured, then glared as Grantaire burst into a fit of laughter.  “Hey bozo, you already pulled your sappy routine, let us be sappy.”

“I know, it’s just kind of adorable.” R said, throwing his hands up in surrender.  “You guys are cute, okay?  I said it.  Now is this a party or what?” he asked, turning on the stereo quickly before he pulled Enj into his arms to dance.  

Ferre did the same, pulling Courf closer and hugging him against his chest as he slid the small silver band onto his finger.  “Happy Valentine’s day, baby.” He whispered.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ferre.” Courf smiled happily as he danced with the man he loved on one of the happiest days of his life.