anonymous asked:

you know, my friend's father was telling me how when he was young he had a band with his friends... thing is: he doesnt (and didnt) know how to play any instruments. they just... pretended to play songs, the sounds were totally random but people liked it and thought it was on purpose... so they never played the same "song" twice because... they DIDN'T KNOW HOW. and now i'm imagining Grantaire, Bossuet and Bahorel doing the same lol

1.) that is a beautiful story I’m laughing tell your friend’s dad he’s my favourite
2.) oh my god???? They would?????

Here’s what I’m picturing:
-Bahorel, whose instrument of choice is a random bucket that he flips over, finding random things to hit it with on the road. Usually it’s just sticks.
-Bossuet plays the bottle. You know that thing that people do when they blow across the opening of a water/beer/soda bottle so it makes kind of a flute-like noise? Yeah, he does that, and discovered that different amounts of liquid changes the note so he chugs a lot
-Grantaire improvises with whatever’s nearest. Trash can on the road? Join Bahorel in spontaneous percussion. Bicycle nearby? Run something along the spokes. Spin the pedals. Lots of things you can do with a bike. Nothing nearby? Sing (shout) and clap hands. Nothing to it.

-One time they were doing this in public and Bossuet’s hat had fallen on the ground in a moment of bottle-playing passion. So someone walks by and drops some change in it while they’re badly playing
-So he leaves the hat there and another person comes by and does the same
-They all get the same idea
-That’s the story of how they became an accidental bad busker band that’s strangely popular with artists and young children


So yesterday @mysmoldarkfictionalsons wrote about an PORTUGUESE! Grantaire and I thought it would be cool and amazing if in this universe Courfeyrac was Brazilian.

- Courfeyrac moved to France when he was 16, because his parents found better job opportunities (plus he has this french heritage he always wanted to know more about, so it was already in his plans moving to France)
- Speaking portuguese with family, french with friends plus learning english in school, his life was a mess (poor babe wasnt that good with languages when younger)
- He wasnt aware Grantaire was Portuguese until Grantaire sighed “caralho” in the end of his first meeting and Courfeyrac just burst into a laughing fit because that was the last thing he was expecting to come out of the guys mouth
- Courfeyrac was a little bit embarrassed one time when he asked Grantaire to speak slower because he wasn’t understanding what the other was speaking. “Its the same language” they said “its not difficult” they said… (bitterfeyrac)
- When Grantaire speaks proudly about Portugal and how they kicked Napoleon’s ass, Courfeyrac laughs and just says “at least OUR king didnt RUN AWAY” you can hear joly and feuilly in a choir of “ooooooh"s in the background
- They actually have discussions like that all the time "I said, if Portugal hadnt fucking robbed Brazil we would have been AWESOME and rich ”, its their meme
- Grantaire and Courfeyrac have some moments where they exchange cultural differences, mostly language related, like “grama/relva”, “puto”, “bicha”…
- They have a thing called “author of the week” , where each week they go back and forwards with brazilian and portuguese authors. One week “Machado de Assis”, the other “Camões”, and so goes on. They learn so much…

Ok thats all I have.

@spicyenjolras requested “grantaire, jehan and ferre going searching for your fave cryptid (like bigfoot hunting or something but with your favorite one ya know?) i don’t mind which one, as long as you have fun drawing it😌❤️” after getting all ten questions about me right lol

i tried a new style this time so i eeally hope you like it! (and theyre looking for mothman lol)

Teacher AU PT II

I’m so sorry you guys had to wait so long for part two, but I hope you guys like it!! Part One

Grantaire showed up late on Thursday. Enjolras had written him off as a lost cause and had been about to start class when the teacher rushed in holding coffee.

“I’m so, so sorry. The line was so long,” he said between pants. “But I brought you coffee. Black.” He took one last deep breath before a smile appeared on his face. “So what’d I miss?”

“Ten minutes of class.” Enjolras had taken his coffee from Grantaire, but now had his arms crossed in annoyance.

Grantaire shrugged. “Is that all? It takes that long for my class to settle down. Okay, what’s the topic for this spectacle?” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Enjolras didn’t understand how he could be so relaxed like this all the time. He’d just rushed in from an undoubtedly crowded and stressful coffee shop and was still beaming like it was his birthday. It was cute, in a way. He let a faint smile cross his face before getting on to business.

“We were brainstorming, but don’t worry, I told them not to tell me the topics. It wouldn’t be fair if I had a head start. Let’s begin.” He nodded to Lena, who read what she’d written on  piece of paper.

“Your three options are: GMOs, death penalty, and drinking age.”

“Ooh, nice topics,” Grantaire said. Enjolras agreed, already thinking up points for each topic. He turned to the other teacher.

“You pick the topic.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll win even if it’s one you’re comfortable with,” Enjolras said with a smirk. The bet they’d made wasn’t factored into this boast, he just wanted to win. Grantaire didn’t seem to mind, a small glimmer of ambition in his eye.

“Oh, cocky are we? Fine, I pick death penalty.”

Lena checked it. “Do you need any time planning?”

“Nah, just have Enjolras start.”

Enjolras nodded, bringing his points into focus. They really were simple, it was a black and white topic. “Death penalty should be allowed. Keeping criminals in jail is a waste of resources for others, and a chance to escape for more crimes.” He went on for a bit before waiting for Grantaire’s rebuttal.

“There are some people who are put to death while wrongly accused though. It’s injustice once that happens, showing yet another flawed system. Also…”


Enjolras’ eye still hadn’t stopped twitching in aggravation, ever since he’d realised he was losing. Again. His coffee cup sat drained on his desk. And sat at his desk with his lips pursed, tapping a pencil incessantly against the desk. Class was over.

During the debate words had gone flying through the air, each point better than the last when the english teacher realised he’d run out of ideas. Grantaire hadn’t, and had finished the debate. Most of the kids in the class had looked surprised. Enjolras felt much the same.

“Enjolras, are you okay?” Grantaire’s voice sounded worried. He stood a few feet away, watching the Enjolras, who was trying to quell a surge of anger.

“I’m great, thanks. Do you practise debate in your spare time?”

“No. Do you?” Enjolras didn’t dignify that with a response. Grantaire seemed to take the hint.

Before the silence grew too long Grantaire quietly said, “You never agreed to our bet, you know.”


“The one we came up with.” Grantaire’s face was red, but he still maintained eye contact with Enjolras. “You know, you win: coffee, I win: a date with you? I was just thinking, I wouldn’t mind getting you a coffee every once in awhile.”

Enjolras couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But I lost.”

“It’s not like you’d actually go on a date with me anyway,” Grantaire said, frowning slightly. “Even if we had shook on it.”

“What makes you say that?” Enjolras asked curiously. Had he said something to show that he’d reject any notion of doing something with the history teacher? Sure, he had a tendency for being standoffish, but that was kind of his default state. Once he got to know people better he warmed up to them…

“You rarely even talk to me, E. The only reason you invited me today was for your students, or for a victory. Either way, I don’t think we’re all that friendly towards each other.”

“But we could try,” Enjolras said, getting up from his desk. It was Grantaire’s turn to be surprised.


“If I were to go on a date with you, where would you take me?” Enjolras asked, waiting for a response.

A corner of Grantaire’s mouth quirked up in a little smile. “It’d be a surprise. I’m sure you’d like it though.”

“A surprise date venue, huh. I guess I’d have to come with then.” Enjolras grinned teasingly. He neared Grantaire, looking up into his dark blue eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d be free on Friday.”

“Hell yes,” Grantaire said eagerly. “I mean, yeah, that’d be fine. So, um…” He grew bashful all of a sudden.


“I don’t suppose…I mean, if you’re okay with it…can I kiss you?”

“Is that all?” Enjolras smirked, rolling his eyes. He tugged Grantaire down by his tie, meeting him in a kiss. Grantaire made a happy little sound before wrapping his arms around Enjolras, who smiled into the kiss. As sure as he’d been about winning, losing the debate hadn’t been such a bad thing.

WELL this has been in the works (even as kinda only an idea) for roughly i don’t know THREE YEARS? So I promised myself I’d post it tonight.

Title: Sherlock Holmes and the Judge of Souls
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes/Les Miserables
PG13 probably (there’s nothing worse here than in either book)
Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Grantaire, Grantaire’s sister, Enjolras
Summary: At the turn of the nineteenth century, Holmes and Watson are called to France to investigate the case of a man who died in the 1832 riots.

Read it on AO3, or

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Self-care is hearing someone say that the brick never canonically says Grantaire is an artist, spending 6 hours rereading Les Mis to disprove this, finding that they are correct, questioning your entire reality, then fighting Victor Hugo’s ghost at midnight on a full moon in an empty parking lot