-He cannot stand coffee. He drinks way, way too much of it but thinks it’s disgusting. Usually puts like half a cup of sugar in it.
-Clothing disaster. Owns four copies of the same outfit. Buys t-shirts in packs whenever he needs new ones. The only variation is when he gets gifts from his friends, which he then wears constantly no matter how aweful. No concept of an ironic gift.
-Never sleeps. He has not slept a full 8 hours in so long. Ends up falling asleep in weird places (floors, tables, Jehan).
-Literally attracts dirt? He cannot go anywhere without getting his clothes/general person dirty. All of the jokes have been made. Protests are even worse, he somehow ends up with blood on his clothes at even the most peaceful ones.
-Cold all the time.
-Has a lot? Of feelings? That he is not very good at expressing like a normal human? He gets very intense about things like apologies and gratitude and pep talks. Stares directly into your eyes without blinking, while reciting a passionate speech that sounds like he practiced it. He did.
-When he gives his friends cards for their birthdays he writes extremely heart felt messages all over them that have been known to make people cry. Combeferre has one framed.
-Hugs that are uncomfortably long and tight.
-Usually acts like such a statue that everyone but Courfeyrac and Combeferre are always blindsided when he does something disgustingly sweet and sappy.
-Attends every poetry reading, sports game, and recital that his friends have.
-Constantly gets into fights? Even though he’s a twig that literally anyone could snap in half? Another reason for the bloody clothes.
-Actually one of the youngest of Les Amis! He’s a grade ahead in school, so he went to university not long after his seventeenth birthday.
-Doesn’t make friends very easily. When each new person joined Les Amis he wouldn’t talk directly to them for weeks. Then one day he just sits down and does the uncomfortable eye contact thing and delivers a speech about social change and a better tomorrow and how much their help means to the group. It is the official Enjolras initiation.
-This is because he has no social skills.
-Has never given Grantaire the official welcoming rant. Probably never will.
What I’m getting at here is that the Chief is a living disaster hiding behind a thin vineer of perfect hair and rage.
-Grantaire is the only one who has never noticed what a complete mess Enj is.
Someone asked me if I knew who wrote Les misérables and everything I’ve seen about Victor Hugo on this site came back to me in half a second: Hugo wearing sunglasses, Hugo wearing a flower crown, Hugo posing like one of your French girls, Hugo writing naked to avoid the writer’s block, Hugo sending a living bat to his fiancée. I think I managed to only smile a little when I said yes.
To be completely honest I don’t see Percy being sexually interested in Annabeth. I see him more interested in fluffly, romantic/non-sexual stuff like dates and hand holding. I don’t know, I’ve tried reading Percabeth smut countless times and I just can’t see it.
Selected to fight on the Striking Eagles, an elite five man squad on the (ACL) Armored Combat League’s American Team for the third year in a row. The Castle pictured is where the IMCF World Championship is being held. I am not the biggest or strongest, but I seem to have lots of hitpoints and went with cleave, power attack, bullrush, grapple, throw, 2H weapon specialization couple ranks of toughness, unarmed combat
There’s a low, paint-chipped door in the corner of Alexei Mashkov’s living
room in Providence.
His agent tells him that the door used to connect to the apartment next to his,
a long time ago, when the structure had been one. The door leads to nowhere
now, only a wall of bricks. Alexei has even seen the wall of bricks in person,
when he requested the landlord open the door for fun. He’s always been curious,
after all, and the old, rusted key that the agent picks out from the cabinets
only added to that curiosity.
“You’ll get yourself into trouble one day, Lyosha,” his grandmother used to
tell him. Alexei had been young, perhaps seven or eight, when she warned him.
“Don’t ask so many questions, and try to be happy, or the spirits will see, and take you.” She
had said, “Don’t go through strange doors, and don’t follow voices, especially
if they sing to you.”
“What’s so bad about singing?” Alexei had demanded, in a petulant way only a
seven-year-old can manage. “I sing.”
“Yes, love, but they sing to
confuse you,” his grandmother had responded. “They sing of a life better than
the one you have, so you want to come to them. You see? They want to trick you
and steal you away.”
Of course, Alexei had thought her warning had been metaphorical, if not
slightly cryptic. She’d been old then, and easily confused. If you take out the
spirits part, the rest sound more or less logical. He figured that she doesn’t
want him talking to strangers and end up kidnapped, so Alexei had merely nodded
and promised her. No going in strange doors, no following the singing voice, not that there’d been any in his life. Until now.
The bricks are nothing special: the seams filled with cement, the corners dusty
with cobwebs. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but there’s a draft that only
Alexei can feel because when he mentions it to the agent, she only blinks in
“Why not lock it?” Alexei asks, when the agent pockets the old key and closes
the old, wooden door.
“Why should I?” the agent says, smiling. “The wall is bricked up. Not like
there’s anything that can come out. Now, let’s go to the kitchen. The structure
itself is a little old, almost 150 years, but it’s been recently remodeled.
It’s got a beautiful granite counter top—”
Alexei loves the house. But doesn’t know why he feels uneasy about the door. When he gets the keys to the house, he finds the rusted key again and locks the door.
Montparnasse being the foil of Enjolras makes me so emotional. Like, its pretty obvious that that’s how Hugo intended it, based on how he worded things (i.e. a charming young man capable of being terrible vs. a terrible young man capable of being charming). But it just gets me when I realize that the principle difference isn’t background or history, its hope. They see the world the same, so full of pain and suffering, but Enjolras is a staunch believer that it will get better, whilst Montparnasse is basically resigned to the wretchedness which is actually very depressing. Idk it just gives me so many feels.