#houndofthedevil

[sent] So that’s where that went?

[sent] Fuck Ep I’ve been looking for that for an hour

[sent] You know this means I gotta see it on you

[sent] Gotta see for myself

[sent] But I want that one back. I can help you get another like it if you like it so much

[sent] But that one is already mine and I’m a territorial bitch

Éponine: NO. This one is best I want it. Éponine: I changed my mind, actually. I am holding it hostage, be mad if you want won’t bother me.  Éponine: My conscience is clear, I’ve confessed. Doesn’t mean you get it back. I rightfully stole it, it’s mine now. 

Montparnasse had been tolerating perhaps more mistreatment than he ought have from a man easily double his age that night, but had not given up in his flirtation with him either. At least until Claquesous had seemingly appeared from thin air with the one word statement that sent his ‘date’  skittering off like vermin while Montparnasse stood frozen and blinking while he processed what had just occurred.

The whole thing had started out innocent enough. Alright, perhaps innocent was a bit of a stretch. As innocent as stalking got. It was true Claquesous kept tabs on all his associates. He’d be an idiot not to. It was also true he had found himself rather occupied lately with one particular associate...

The superfluous company had disappeared in the distance, Claquesous realised absently. But he was still holding onto Montparnasse’s arm, tight enough to leave a mark. So, this was it, huh? The point of no return. No more hiding behind the smokescreen of professionalism he so clearly did not possess.

Lol... i had typed this up. Totally forgot.... and left without saving it. smh

1) Anything soft. Literally anything. I have a stuffed tummy someone gave me and I slept with it for a month because it’s soft.

2) being home. I love home. It’s such a great place to be

3) Great British Bake Off. I jut love the show and the hosts are always funny and the stuff those people bake are amazing!

4) any baking show really? Nailed it? watched. Sugar Rush? watched. All the seasonal baking shows? HECK YES. I’m not ever a big halloween person and yet I still love watching the halloween shows

5) Mimosas. Oh my gosh. I love mimosas. 

6) Travel. It’s just fun and always makes me appreciate being home

7) CHRISTMAS!! It’s just my favourite holiday so I go crazy

8) Coffee. Gotta have my coffee. No body should talk to me or make me leave the house before I’ve made my coffee

9) Ice Cream. This is super weird but my fave kind of ice cream I can only find at the gas stations near me XD

Grantaire let the tingling absinthe slide down his throat, leaning against the wall and letting himself slide to the floor. In his drunken state, he had somehow managed to find his way to Montparnasse’s apartment. Whether or not the man would be pleased about it, he had no idea (most likely not). Nevertheless, he kicked his tattered shoes off and took another swig from his potent alcohol.

She walked quietly through the streets after delivering the last of her fathers letters, her bare feet sore from the cold ground. She was just glad it wasn’t snowing that day. She pulled the ragged cloak closer to shield herself from the wind. It made her more modest, she thought. It was a sorry attempt, the tattered hem of her skirt nearly hiked up to her knees and her blouse, too baggy and worse for wear, every now and again fell to her waist. She was unsightly, almost ghoulish but she didn’t mind. She didn’t have a mirror to scrutinize herself with nor the priorities that would allow it. It wasn’t that she was unaware of herself, it simply held little importance, especially when she lacked the money to fix it.

Every now and again, even after she’d finished running around for her father she would decide not to go home, occasionally for several days at a time. Sometimes she would sleep on the streets if she felt that was truly preferable but oftentimes, she was able to find someone that didn’t mind her company, whoever that may be. Since this was one particular night that she had no inclination to deal with her father, she decided to seek out a friend of hers. 

“I care about you,” Montparnasse said slowly, making sure his words could not be mistaken for anything else as he watched her with growing concern warping his features. He did not like when his friends were upset and with that sort of talk he could not imagine Eponine was feeling particularly happy.

Sitting up a little from his more comfortable lounge, he thought to risk, “Did something happen?”

She didn’t look at him, rather she hugged her knees closer to her chest and laughed coldly at the first thing he said. Marius didn’t care about her. She had finally found the courage to approach him on his way to Rue Plumet and he seemed unpleased by it. He was cold to her, brushed her off, and had left her speechless.

 “I tried to talk to him again. He didn’t want to see me, he only wants that lark.” She muttered finally. She laughed again, the sound of it was somewhat disturbing, almost unhinged. “I can’t blame him for it.”

“No.” Jehan shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I’m not very good at sleeping, either.”

The blanket had been surrendered without resistance and Jehan had settled beside Montparnasse, seemingly unbothered by his own nakedness, drawing circles on the back of Montparnasse’s hand with his fingertip.

Do they have any places they want to go before they die? For what reasons do they want to go there?

There has only been once place that Grantaire has ever wanted to go, one place that had ever called his heart and soul to find— the place where his mother was born.

He could have cared less about his father— he knew that the man had felt the same way about him when he was alive, but his mother... her gentle, but passionate soul— her strength, her devotion, her dedication to him, to helping him grow... he had to know where she was from. What kind of a place had raised such a perfect woman, that she had called home and looked at with wondering eyes everyday.

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