#reblog for the late night folks
Love is Blind (Part Three: Living Together)
This thing just continues to be the beast that will not end.
E/R, Modern AU, Love is Blind AU (bad reality TV AU for anyone unfamiliar with the source show). Established relationship at this point, but like. Still a speedrun.
Read Part One here.Read Part Two here.
In our blind love experiment, our couples chose each other, sight unseen. They fell in love, and then they got engaged to the person who is now their fiancé, before ever seeing one another.
In Mexico, they had an amazing opportunity to begin to grow their emotional connection into a physical one. But now it’s time to leave paradis and start building their lives together. Each of our couples will move into a new home, a neutral space for them to deepen their relationships.
In the real world, their love is going to be put to the test. How are they going to integrate their lives? Their friends, families, careers, homes? With their devices back and their weddings just three weeks away, will they allow the opinion of family and friends, the allure of other people, the distractions of social media, to sabotage their weddings and their happiness?
Will they judge one another for their looks, their race, their age, their family, or their circumstances? Will any of that really matter? Or will love be enough? Ultimately, that is what they will decide in front of their friends and families: will they say ‘I do’ to the person they chose sight unseen? Or will they walk away from them forever?
Is love truly blind?
We hope that they prove it is.
Grantaire let out a low whistle as he glanced around the living room of their new apartment. “So this is it,” he said, dropping his bag on the floor. “The new place.”
Enjolras followed suit, setting his bag next to Grantaire’s, before wrapping an arm around Grantaire’s waist and kissing his cheek. “Welcome home.”
Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras’s shoulder. “Do you think we’re like Jack and Rose?”
Enjolras didn’t look up from his phone. “Jack and who?”
“Jack and Rose,” Grantaire repeated, and when Enjolras didn’t answer, he added helpfully, “Like from Titanic.”
Now Enjolras did look up, and even though Grantaire couldn’t see him from his angle, he could hear the scowl in his voice. “Why in the name of all that is holy—”
“It was just the anniversary of the sinking!” Grantaire said with a laugh. “And so Joly, Bossuet and I got stoned and watched the movie.”
Enjolras sighed. “I should have known.” He kissed the top of Grantaire’s head before asking, “So are you Kate Winslet or Leo in whatever scenario you’ve cooked up in your head?”
Grantaire sat up, frowning. “That’s not a fair question. I’m not as hot as Leo and your tits aren’t nearly as magnificent as Kate Winslet’s.”
“I’ll allow it.”
Grantaire cleared his throat. “Anyway, where I was really going with this is that you were born with a silver spoon—”
“Gold-plated stainless steel, if you want to be specific,” Enjolras murmured.
“—shoved all the way up your ass, and I’m just a lower class kid from the street who got in your pants by drawing you.”
Enjolras snorted. “Firstly, you grew up thoroughly middle class and your poverty is mostly of your own making.”
“Harsh, but fair.”
“Secondly,” Enjolras continued, “you didn’t get in my pants by drawing me. You got invited to join Les Amis by drawing me in a political cartoon that we used for advertising. It took several more years for you to get into my pants, and I don’t recall much drawing being involved.”
Grantaire smirked. “Well maybe not with a pencil, but if I need to remind you what I can do with my tongue—”
“Does this Titanic-related metaphor of yours have a point?” Enjolras interrupted, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual.
Grantaire just shrugged. “Mostly that I thought it would be a good backdoor into asking you to let me draw you naked.”
“No.”
If Grantaire was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “You say that now, but you know you’re dying to say it.”
Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Say what?”
Grantaire leaned in so that his lips brushed against Enjolras’s ear as he whispered, “Draw me like one of your French girls.”
Enjolras laughed, pushing him away. “Absolutely not.”
“Shame,” Grantaire said, laughing as well. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, though.”
Enjolras shook his head affectionately, and picked his phone up again. “For the record,” he said casually, “if you were Jack, and I was Rose, we’d either both find a way to be on that door, or we’d both freeze to death together.”
Grantaire blinked. “Really?”
Enjolras glanced up at him. “You jump, I jump, remember?”
A slow smile spread across Grantaire’s face. “You saying you’d die for me?”
Enjolras rolled his eyes. “I’m saying I’d rather die with you than live without you.”
But Grantaire didn’t seem to have heard him. “You’d die for me,” he said, beaming.
“Only you would find that romantic,” Enjolras murmured. “I, for one, would much rather we live for each other than die for each other.”
Grantaire rested his head against Enjolras’s shoulder, still smiling. “I already do.”
Did my dumb ass watch the season finale of Our Flag Means Death and immediately want soft pirates in all my fandoms?
You know I did.
…E/R pirate AU. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me.
The young sailor in His Majesty’s Royal Navy tentatively set his empty tankard on the polished wooden bar of the tavern his crewmates had insisted they go to on their first stop off the ship. “Thank you,” he told the grizzled barkeep, not yet broken of his genteel ways.The barkeep just grunted, not looking up from where he was wiping a glass, but the sailor’s eyes caught sight of the man’s tattoo, just peeking out from his shirt sleeve, and his eyes widened. “You’re a pirate,” he blurted.Now the barkeep did look up, something almost like amusement crossing his creased face. “Well, at least I used to be,” he said before nodding at the empty tankard. “Can I get you another?”Dumbstruck, the sailor nodded, watching as the barkeep filled his tankard and accepting it without comment, slinking back to where his crewmates were waiting. “What’s with you?” one asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”“The barkeep,” the sailor said, his voice low. “He– he’s a pirate!”The other men all glanced at the bar, instantly relaxing when they saw who it was. “Oh, him,” one said with a snort. “He was, once, but he’s nothing to worry about now.”
