Grantaire: *wakes up beside Enjolras for years*
Grantaire softly, everyday: holy shit

oceansofbliss:

Enjolras: what if I pour coffee in my cereal instead of milk?

Grantaire, taking the coffee pot as he walks past: what if you don’t

planetariumandchill:

this has been done before hasn’t it

Starring everybody’s favorite sinnamon roll

Bahorel (side note: Short Grantaire gives me life)

Everyone’s favorite awkward cinnamon roll and Cosette

Hamilton Crossover featuring Thomas Jefferson

grntr-the-cynic:

spookyart401:

(on Deviantart)

my favorite les mis au is called not dead

just-french-me-up:

enjolras: grantaire, you are incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying

grantaire:

oh-those-dead-frenchboys:

enjolras and grantaire + text posts because im trash

also bonus éponine

sorryloveimsoulless:

Whatever you do, don’t imagine modern revolutionaries Enjolras and Grantaire.

Don’t imagine them leaving a rally together and taking the subway home in the middle of the night.

Don’t imagine Grantaire falling asleep on Enjolras’s shoulder.

Don’t imagine Enjolras letting him stay that way.

Don’t imagine Enjolras watching Grantaire, and wondering how he had never noticed how beautiful he was before.

Don’t imagine Enjolras falling in love with his cynic.

Don’t imagine Enjolras thinking it isn’t requited and not telling Grantaire.

Don’t imagine the Les Amis going to a more violent rally that they don’t all come out of.

Don’t imagine Grantaire sacrificing himself for Enjolras.

Don’t imagine Enjolras crying.

Don’t imagine the funeral.

Don’t imagine Enjolras going back to Grantaire’s apartment.

Don’t imagine Enjolras finding hundreds of sketches deemed unperfect by Grantaire.

Don’t imagine them all being of Enjolras.

Don’t imagine them all being stunning, but Grantaire thinking that they are nothing compared to the actual man.

Don’t imagine Enjolras realizing that Grantaire loved him back.

Don’t imagine Enjolras throwing himself completely into the revolution in an attempt to forget about Grantaire.

Don’t imagine it not working.

Don’t imagine Enjolras waking up in the middle of the night because he had just seen Grantaire die, again.

Whatever you do, don’t imagine the tragedy of modern day Enjoltaire.

ange-l-of-musicals:

Enjolras: *breathes*

Grantaire: oh my god

prouvairie:

enjolras and grantaire didn’t just hold hands and then die, grantaire probably gripped it tighter and enjolras squeezed back as he was hit with the first bullets and maybe grantaire felt enjolras’ muscles go slack before enj died and let me tell you, not just seeing or hearing the person you love die but feeling it must have been horrific

No One Loves the Light Like the Blind Man

just-french-me-up:

Now, I know the blind man is supposed to be Grantaire and the Light is Enjolras, Hugo has weaved enough light/darkness symbolism into his hell hole of a novel for that to be clear

but consider

Enjolras keeps dismissing Grantaire. All the time. He never realises the extent of Grantaire’s feelings and faith for him. Not until the very dusk of his life, when darkness is closing in around him, when Grantaire manages to make him smile.

Then, truly, no one loves the light like the blind man