les amis abc

hello yes have i mentioned that i love Marius

In Paris tonight they’re doing a “Barricades Night” to protest against France’s current politics & the elections and everything and,,,, imagine Enjolras

  • <p> <b><p></b> <b></b> At the ABCs, Enjolras is sitting with Courfeyrac and Feuilly. Grantaire is drinking a bottle of wine while leaning on the piano and laughing with Marius and Joly...<p/><b>Enjolras:</b> Is he looking?<p/><b>Courfeyrac:</b> Nope. Not now.<p/><b>Feuilly:</b> *giggle*<p/><b>Enjolras:</b> what?</b>  <p/><b>Feuilly:</b> Look at you! You just look as a silly teenager!<p/><b>Enjolras:</b> shut up! *blushes and look at Grantaire*<p/><b>Grantaire:</b> *look at Enjolras that's blushing and angry and giggles*<p/><b>Enjolras:</b> *blushes even more and look at Courfeyrac*<p/><b>Courfeyrac:</b> *laughs*<p/></p><p/></p>

Les Miserables_ Les amis de l’ABC page ½

Keep working in my portfolio ~ I should have started with Valjean but… just watch me.

This is only the sketch and I’m already crying. Someone send help.

Combeferre probably let Feuilly come in without much fight because he was surprised; he had expected, of course, to see one of his friends before the day was over- he’d been too sharp earlier, and too fast to leave, for them not to have understood he was genuinely upset over their behaviours, but he’d thought Enjolras or Courfeyrac would come, or perhaps Prouvaire. Not Feuilly.

Now they stood awkwardly in the middle of Combeferre’s kitchen, as Combeferre tried to remember when he had last used his tea cups, and where they might be hiding now. Feuilly looked pensive, his head bent down, his hands pressing his hat, almost nervously. Combeferre kept waiting for his annoyance to come back - but Feuilly had been the only one not to speak against that women’s group, earlier - though, Combeferre tried to remember, he hadn’t spoken in its favour either.

“You said good things,” said Feuilly at last. “About those women, and their obvious interest in our cause.”

“I said the truth, no more,” corrected Combeferre. “It pains me to think that my dearest of friends, who are so far ahead in so many things, cannot seem to understand this.”

“They might learn, with you as a teacher,” said Feuilly. He looked preoccupied and hopeful all at once. Combeferre stared a moment.

“Do you… Agree with me, Feuilly? About women being able to join our group, or at the very least work with us?”

There was a pause, and then Feuilly looked right back at him, and offered him a guarded smile.

“Do you, Combeferre?” He asked instead. “Do you truly? I have known men before who defended women’s rights as you do, but felt immediately uncomfortable when those same women tried to speak for themselves and took actions on their own.”

“I dare hope,” said Combeferre, “that I am better than those men. And if I happen not to be, I want to think that the women i know will be able to tell me.”

Feuilly’s smile grew bigger, and gentler. He took a step forwards, then stopped, breathed out slowly, and put his hat on the table, reaching for his waistcoat with trembling fingers.

“I trust you,” he said, slowly. “And If you must know, I agree with you more than most, about women joining the cause.”

Combefeferre froze, opened his mouth, and then closed it again when Feuilly added, quietly, as he took off his waistcoat, revealing for the first time underneath a white shirt, and the hint of curves that shouldn’t have been there-

“My friend, I must tell you a secret I’ve been keeping for a very, very long time now…”

Les Mis aesthetic - POC collection


Jean Prouvaire was a still softer shade…Jean Prouvaire was in love; he cultivated a pot of flowers, played on the flute, made verses, loved the people, pitied woman, wept over the child, confounded God and the future in the same confidence…His voice was ordinarily delicate, but suddenly grew manly…Above all, he was good.

He spoke softly, bowed his head, lowered his eyes, smiled with embarrassment, dressed badly, had an awkward air, blushed at a mere nothing, and was very timid.

Yet he was intrepid.

► Gettin’ Pumped Up for the Revolution

{listen} || {cover}

i.born to lead // hoobastank ii.surrender // angels & airwaves iii.some nights // fun. iv.this is war //30 seconds to mars v.warriors // imagine dragons vi.man in the mirror // j2 feat. cameron the public vii.heaven knows //the pretty reckless viii.without a fight // hoobastank ix.centuries // fall out boy x.hold by tongue // Sheppard xi.marchin’ on // onerepublic

  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Me:</b> *non stop talking about les mis*<p/><b>Friend:</b> Omg, you just don't stop talking about this and your tumblr is 90% this shit. Why don't you just create a fucking tumblr about it?!<p/><b>Me:</b> <p/><b>Friend:</b> <p/><b>Me:</b> *smiles*<p/><b>Friend:</b> DON'T YOU DARE<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>
let's talk about enjolras!!

• his parents are cambodian
• they moved to france when he was… ten, maybe??
• he doesn’t know where his dad got the money
• family gained wealth and status fairly quickly??? he doesn’t know how. also hopes it was legal.
• he’s trans — and he only really realised at fifteen or sixteen. his life was fairly sheltered, but he always endeavoured to learn more
• his parents didn’t have the best reaction. actually, they kicked him out for two months. he stayed at combeferre’s.
• always had a thirst for social justice, fuelled by where he came from
• started Les Amis de l'ABC when he was sixteen
• officially disowned at 18
• thought he was going to be a journalist and then suddenly switched paths and trained to be a lawyer. he was like 24.
• he labelled himself as homoromantic asexual.
• and then figured he was just… gay.
• the most stressful part was finding different pride badges.
• dated grantaire briefly at seventeen, broke up with them, and then dated them again at 23.
• which would lead to them becoming Serious
• they don’t marry though
• they don’t mind, either
• enjolras never stops but he also knows his limits and knows when to take breaks. can’t change the world on an empty stomach.