just in case people don’t understand the issue
1 - Soulmates Au
Grantaire nods, jaw clenched, as his fingers trace the neck of his glass bottle slowly. He reaches over and unclasps the leather cuff on his wrist and lets it fall to the table, revealing the first and last name underneath it, scrawled in hasty but elegant script.
Joly inhales sharply, and turns to Bossuet, who tries not to show the pity he feels. it’s Joly who speaks first. “Are you sure you didn’t misread-“
“C’mon.” Grantaire picks the cuff up, twisting it between shaking fingers. “Not like ‘Combeferre’ or ‘Courfeyrac’ are names you can misread.”
"But-" Bossuet starts lamely, and Grantaire waves him off.
"Guys, it’s cool." After three tries, he gets the clasp on again, and exhales with a shudder of resignation. "So I’m not his soulmate. He’s still mine. Some divine force decided I should follow his reckless, idealistic ass come hell or highwater, and now at least I have an excuse for being pathetically attached to him." Grantaire sighs, pushing himself away from the table, eyes vacant. "Next round’s on me, yeah?"
Joly and Bossuet nod, speechlessly. It’s not exactly an uncommon occurrence, but they’ve never actually seen someone with a one-sided soulmate in real life. It’s… heartbreaking.
Grantaire nods, then turns away, taking a step before he stops. He doesn’t turn back to them, but grits out, “Don’t you even think of telling him.” before slumping away, back towards the bar.
if it’s late enough and you’re lonely enough, the carly rae jepsen lyric “before you came into my life i missed you so bad” starts seeming increasingly deep and emotionally complex
3:02 AM and this fucking lyric looks like fucking nietzsche
stare into the abyss and the abyss will call you maybe
Unfriendly reminder that in America it’s reasonable to say an unarmed black kid deserved to be shot six times because he might have robbed a convenience store, but a white kid shouldn’t be kicked off the high school football team just because he violently raped a girl.