#grantaire is an alcoholic what a cliche

[gr4ntair3]

125: "Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait…are you…what?!” Please

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG KWJDHJKDHFSF IM USELESS WHEN I HAVE UNIVERSITY WORK TO DO, again, this is ExR because I’m incapable of writing anyone else without accidentally writing about them anyway.

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For the third time in thirty minutes, Enjolras felt an elbowdig into the small of his back. The mattress had been constantly shifting formost of the night, as Grantaire tossed and turned trying to make himselfcomfortable. What had started as sympathy for the other man’s sleepingdifficulties had very quickly dissolved into pure fury – did he not understand Enjolras had things to do in the morning?!

“Grantaire, quit moving, I’m trying to sleep!” He snapped.It was filled with more contempt than intended and he winced at himself,hearing Grantaire gasp as the words fell out of his mouth.

“I… didn’t know you were awake,” wait, Enjolras’ brain worked furiously, why does his voice sound so raw? It took a moment for his sleepdeprivation to catch up and he felt guilt twist around his stomach at therealisation. Grantaire was crying. Enjolras noted now the way the mattressshuddered slightly every time Grantaire moved, as if he was shaking.

“Wait… are you… what?!” He wrapped an arm around Grantaire’sstomach to coax him to turn over and face him. There was a moment ofhesitation, and Enjolras’ chest tightened at the sight of his friend when hesaw him.

4:58AM didn’t suit Grantaire at all. Dark circles cloudedhis eyes and his cheeks were stained pink and purple – from trying to hide this from me,the thought was like a pinprick, jolting Enjolras into action.

“Hey, c’mon Taire, what’s up? I know you didn’t want toshare a bed with me, but I didn’t think our friendship had devolved so much youcan’t even bear to be next to me? Is this because of what I said in the meetingearlier?” Enjolras had perhaps been a little too harsh. Grantaire had trippedover the doorway into the Musain, the stench of whiskey and cigarettesbillowing in after him, and announced he’d been kicked out of his flat.

This was a surprise to exactly nobody – Grantaire spent allof his money on whiskey and wine and Pall Mall Superking Green’s (“A packet of 20 cigs for 7 euros is the bestI can hope for these days boys”) and his landlord had come to expectpayments two, even three months late (payments that were usually borrowed fromBahorel or Joly). Apparently four months was a step too far, and the landlord hadbeen waiting that evening when Grantaire returned from work, having alreadylined up another tenant, with a notice saying Grantaire’s contract wasterminated effective immediately. So instead of making any attempt to resolvethis situation (that would be far toomuch to ask) Grantaire had made his way to the closest bar and bought twobottles of top shelf whiskey with the rent money he had been about to give hislandlord.

Grantaire had been inundated with offers to stay with peopleupon announcing his new state of homelessness – Eponine had offered her sofa, Bossuetand Joly had offered their spare bedroom, even Bahorel had offered his bathtub(“Well it’s better than the street!”)but the whole room had been stunned into silence when Enjolras had piped up.

“I’m the closest to here, stay with me tonight Grantaire,then we can take you to get some new accommodation sorted tomorrow – I’ll makesure you don’t sign up for anything that’ll give you a disease like that lastplace,” Grantaire had guffawed at this. Everyone else looked like they wantedto follow suit but were slightly more concerned about the way Enjolras wouldreact than the drunken man. “What’s so funny Grantaire, sharing is caring?”

“Why would you offer your home to me? I’ve had offers fromthe others, let’s not pretend to like each other simply because I’ve outdonemyself in the fuck up department Enjolras,” there was no hint of a joke inGrantaire’s voice, he stated this as a matter of fact. It riled Enjolras morethat Grantaire seriously thought he wouldn’t help him than the fact that he’dgotten himself in this situation, and he told him so.

“You are incapable of living, you act like a child. I don’ttrust that you’ll do yourself any favours this evening without someone watchingover you that ISN’T Eponine, Bossuet or Bahorel,” he turned to his friends ashe said this, “I mean no offence to you all, but you know how easily you canall be convinced by him that drinking yourselves into stupidity is the bestoption.” It was true. Of all the people that could have offered, the three thathad were the worst offenders when it came to encouraging Grantaire’s drinkinghabits. He would never find somewhere else to live given somewhere to stay withthem. He wheeled back around to Grantaire, brow furrowed. “You need to staywith me because I won’t let your dumb ass drink yourself into oblivion tonight,I won’t let you get away with putting this off for weeks because I do not wantto share a bed with you for that long, and I will march you around everyletting agent in the city tomorrow and pay your damn deposit on a place thatyou will not fuck up because you will OWE ME.” He spat the last two words witha little more venom than intended and watched Grantaire pale.

“…Sharing a bed with me? Wh-why would we be doing that? I-I’llsleep on the couch,” Grantaire stuttered his way through the sentence, and ared flush was rising against the white of his cheek.

“I live in a studio apartment Grantaire, my bed is my couch,does anybody else have anything to say on the matter or are we all in agreement?”Enjolras dared them all to question him with a slow spin, looking at each ofthem in turn. Nobody did. “Good, then let’s begin the meeting.”

The meeting was less than successful. Enjolras had put everyoneon edge with his cutting words about Grantaire and nobody wanted to be the oneto push the button that caused full-blown volcanic eruption. Enjolras adjournedthe meeting and waved them away with a sigh, collecting his papers and damninghimself for his temper when he noticed Grantaire hadn’t moved, his head on thetable.

“Can you help me gather these papers?” He asked, Grantairestill didn’t move. He balled up a blank sheet of paper and bounced it at theother man’s head. He shuffled, but again, made no effort to move. He’s fucking asleep, Enjolras realised,feeling fury course through him. “GRANTAIRE!” He yelled, forcing all of hisfury into the name and hoping it would make Grantaire more alert. Grantairelifted his head, noticed his friends were gone and stood up slowly.

“Are we going then?” He smiled lazily, completely ignoringthe shorter man who’s blonde curls were almost static with electric anger.

“Pick these papers up for me, please, then we’re going,” thatwas all he said for the rest of the evening, save hissing in Grantaire’sdirection every time he complained he couldn’t find a drop of alcohol anywherein Enjolras’ tiny flat. He fished a Harry Potter movie out of the cupboard andput it on to entertain Grantaire whist he settled under the covers and sleeptook over. He managed an hour of sleep according to the digital clock on hiswindowsill, before Grantaire’s shuffling had roused him. It had continued likethis for four hours.

Grantaire’s face looked gaunt, none of the pink that haddanced across his cheeks at the thought of sharing a bed with Enjolras earlier.His hands were trembling and his eyes darted between them and Enjolras, as if frightenedthey would do something of their own accord if he didn’t keep looking at them.

“It’s not about what you said,” Grantaire replied, his eyesdrifting downwards. His voice was thick with something Enjolras couldn’t quitegrasp. “I need a drink.” He buried his head in his arms at that and Enjolrasunderstood. He was ashamed.

Enjolras felt his own shame flame up in his chest. He’dknown Grantaire for months, had seen him once a week plunging himself into thebottom of a bottle and heard countless stories about drunken escapades but hadnever even once considered that Grantaire did it because he needed to. He’d assumed his friend didit because it garnered attention and there was always a good story to be hadfrom it. He hoped his next action would speak, because his brain couldn’t comeup with anything to express how terrible he felt about not realising, andpulled the other man towards him, wrapping his arms around his neck and lacinga hand through the dark curls on his head. Grantaire dipped his head intoEnjolras’ neck and Enjolras felt the warmth of tears sliding down onto hisshoulder.

“I don’t do this on purpose, to rile you up, I didn’t losemy flat on purpose,” Grantaire whispered into his skin, “I need help… but I don’tknow how to get it.”

Enjolras sank back into the mattress, pulling his frienddown with him until Grantaire’s head was laid across his chest.

“I… I’m sorry Grantaire. I didn’t even consider that youwere struggling with this kind of thing. I don’t like sharing my bed at allbut, if you need to, you’re welcome to stay until we can find you a place andsomeone to talk to about this that has a lot more experience than me,” Enjolrassqueezed at Grantaire’s shoulder, “does that sound okay?”

Grantaire sat up, still shaking, and pulled himself out ofbed, shaking his head ferociously. He pulled a black hoodie on and stepped intohis jeans. Before Enjolras could process what he was doing, Grantaire was gone.

#I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS IS #HONESTLY #IS THIS PLATONIC???? #IS IT NOT???? #WHO THE FUCK KNOWS #enjolras/grantaire #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #exr #grantaire is an alcoholic what a cliche #i dont even know what this is im sorry??? #my-amis

[williamvapespeare]

Who's your favourite Les Mis character, and why?

anon, thank you so much for asking! you might regret this though because i have a LOT of nerdy feelings 😅. SO in fear of sounding like an absolute cliche and/or every les mis fan on tumblr, it’s grantaire.

i’m gonna start by giving a little bit of background about my academic nerd interests to explain why i love this boy. i wrote my masters thesis on bystanders to tragedy in reanissance drama, looking at characters who i think have a sort of metatheatrical awareness about the way tragedy works as a genre and therefore kind of forsee the tragic plot as it unfolds around them. (ex, Horatio in Hamlet, Benvolio in Romeo and Juliet, etc) all these characters attempt to warn the tragic hero of their downfall, often TRY to act to stop the events of the downfall from happening, but they always fail. (maybe it’s a recurring character trope? HOPEFULLY it is cause im in the process of starting a phd on it lol). anyway, i came to the conclusion that this awareness gives these bystanders the ability to react emotionally to the hero’s downfall, and in doing so, they model the reaction that the audience should be having to the play itself. they facilitate a transfer of emotion both between characters on stage and between the stage and the audience. and that’s important because making the audience feel things has been one of the the main purposes of theater like basically forever. (yaay aristotle, yaay affect theory, i’m so sorry if that was boring or terribly explained!)

OK NOW i love grantaire because i think he serves the same purpose in les mis. (obviously he has lots of other roles and does lots of important things, but this is one i think is cool and kind of helped shape my own research.) we get told over and over agian that grantaire is a cynic, he doesn’t believe in anything, we all know these quotes. but what if instead of simply not believing, grantaire has a sort of outsider knowledge of the way that enjolras’s “heroic” trajectory is going to end. and i know this is a whole different can of worms, but other peole have explained way more intelligently than me how enjolras gets framed in this shining golden, heroic, the french horns play every time he enters kind of symbolism that he actively fights against. and it’s obvious that grantaire sees this too.

basically, thinking of grantaire as a bystander to enjolras’s tragedy makes his cynicism, his depression, his hopelessness all the more powerful? he’s not just someone who doesn’t support the cause or whatever. he knows what’s going to happen and all of his arguments are these futile attempts to change the course of a tragic downfall that’s already in motion. yes he’s depressed; yes he’s an alcoholic; he spends the whole time he’s in les mis mourning the loss of his friends before they’ve died.

also obvs he’s a bicon, a beautiful and intense portrayal of someone struggling with depression, a perfect sweet boy, etc etc.

(also, i KNOW this response would have been way better if i’d like put in some references or some shit, but also aint nobody got time for that. im not trying to like be super smart or anything, these are just my feelings, they’re probably horribly incoherent. i’m so sorry.)

#grantaire #les mis #les miserables #long post kind of #im so sorry for rambling you guys please dont unfollow me #sorry if i sound really dumb #thanks for asking this though :)