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dolphin1812 · 10 months

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They’re here at last!!!

I love all of Les Amis, but their introductory paragraphs have also been pretty thoroughly analyzed - @everyonewasabird and @fremedon have pretty comprehensive posts on them from previous Brickclubs. Rather than go through them individually, then, I’ll try to point out some general trends that would be relevant to Marius (given that we meet them as soon as he’s kicked out of his house, we can assume there’s a connection):

The first major issue is the legacy of the French Revolution (1789) and the Terror (1793). All of the characters we meet here (with the exception of Grantaire) are attached to the legacy of the former, but they’re divided over the latter. Enjolras, for instance, is compared to Saint-Just – a more radical figure from that time period – and with his “warlike nature” and link to the “revolutionary apocalypse,” he’s definitely more in the tradition of ‘93 than ‘89, even if he’s attached to both. Combeferre, on the other hand, fears that kind of violence, only finding it acceptable if the only alternative is for things to stay the same. Like Marius’ newfound Bonapartism, all of their ideas come out of the clash and evolution of thought after the Revolution and the French Empire under Napoleon, placing each Ami in a similar position to him as they work out their ideas. All of them, though, came to a different conclusion than Marius, prioritizing the Republic over the Empire. At the same time, they’re all distinct from each other, too, revealing the diversity in French republican thought. With his limited exposure to political ideas outside of royalism (and now, idolization of Napoleon), the myriad veins of republicanism that the Amis offer broaden up the political sphere of the novel significantly.

On top of that, they’re a group; they can learn from each other in a way that Marius hasn’t had a chance to. Even Grantaire, who claims to not believe in anything, has friends, and while he distances himself from specific ideologies, his jokes illustrate that he’s familiar with them (for example: “He sneered at all devotion in all parties, the father as well as the brother, Robespierre junior as well as Loizerolles”). Marius doesn’t have friends or people to really work through ideas with. Oddly enough, the most similar structure to this that we’ve seen so far is the royalist salon. The key difference (aside from the obvious) is the chance to learn from different perspectives, whether that’s based on variations in republicanism, in priorities (conflict vs education, the local vs the international), or both. They’re not even all defined by their politics. Courfeyrac (who easily has the most insulting character introduction in the book) is defined by his character and personality first, with his political ideas mainly being a given from his participation in this group. These variations in emphasis, then, not only show us the diversity of their views, but the varying intensities with which they hold them (as in, you could talk to Courfeyrac about something that isn’t political, but you couldn’t do that with Enjolras) and how they’re kept together in spite of their disagreements (a common goal – a Republic – and many fun and socially savvy members). All of these factors serve to give a sense of liveliness as well, contrasting sharply with the “phantoms” of the royalist salon.

Les Amis aren’t very diverse class-wise, but they’re still better than the salon. Bahorel and Feuilly, at least, aren’t bourgeois or aristocrats.

Feuilly also brings us to the international level, far beyond Marius’ early attempts at imagining himself as part of a country. Focusing on the partition of Poland in particular, Feuilly advocates for national self-determination in all lands under imperial rule. The idea that a people should govern themselves was key to republican thought more broadly in that time (nationalism really took shape in the 18th-19th centuries), but to Feuilly, this isn’t just an issue of nationalism, but of tyranny:

“There has not been a despot, nor a traitor for nearly a century back, who has not signed, approved, counter-signed, and copied, ne variatur, the partition of Poland.”

The word “despot” ties this back to France in a way, with his rejection of despotism as it affects Poland possibly implying a similar anger at the same phenomenon in France. The Bourbons at the Congress of Vienna in 1815 were, after all, the same Bourbons who ruled during the Restoration. A quick note on Lesgle: I didn’t get the joke around “Bossuet” the first time I read this book. Then, I had to take a class on the French monarchy, and I was assigned a text by Bossuet of Meaux, court preacher to Louis XIV and fierce proponent of absolutism. His name seemed familiar, but it took me a while to think to check Les Mis? And now I think calling Lesgle Bossuet because he’s Lesgle (like l’aigle=eagle) of Meaux is one of the funniest jokes in this book.

#Les mis letters #lm 3.4.1 #les amis de l'abc #enjolras #combeferre #courfeyrac #feuilly #grantaire #Bahorel #Lesgle #bossuet #this ended up being much less organized than I’d hoped #But that’s OK because they’re here and now we can all talk about them!!

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gene-forrester · 2 years

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this feels like it could be a scene out of a sitcom

#lesmis #les misérables #enjolras #bossuet #les amis #victor hugo #he’s just talking about enjolras out loud like that #how can enjolras have any passion when he’s just so damn lonely

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the-queer-classic-lit-ship-ever · 1 year

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round 3ab

#JUST TO BE CLEAR: marius doesn't count as an ami in this #so we're talking enjolras/combeferre/courfeyrac/prouvaire/bahorel/feuilly/joly/bossuet/grantaire :)#lanyard :)#queer classic lit ship tourney #tournament #round 3 #round 3ab #les miserables #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde

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kjack89 · 7 months

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Off the Wagon

Massively self-indulgent.

E/R, modern AU, developing relationship. CW: Drug addiction.

“Can we talk?”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire warily. “That’s never an auspicious beginning to a conversation.”

Grantaire half-smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What can I say, it’s not necessarily an auspicious conversation.”

Enjolras frowned with genuine concern, taking in the dark shadows that ringed Grantaire’s eyes, as well as the way he crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. “Is everything ok?” he asked cautiously.

“Yeah, it is,” Grantaire said quickly – too quickly. “I just, uh, I’m not going to be able to come to Thursday night meetings anymore.”

Enjolras blinked. That certainly hadn’t been what he’d expected. “Why not?”

He hadn’t meant for it to sound accusatory, but judging by the look on Grantaire’s face, it did. “My schedule changed,” Grantaire said shortly.

Enjolras hesitated, not wanting to make things worse by prying, but it wasn’t just that Grantaire would be missing Les Amis meetings. Thursday nights had become something of a routine for them, their night to stay at the Musain until early in the morning, bickering or talking or even just sharing the backroom in silence, Enjolras working on whatever he needed to do that day, Grantaire sketching.

And Enjolras felt a small pang at the realization that this routine was about to be disrupted.

“How long do you think you’ll be missing the meetings for?” he asked.

Grantaire shrugged. “The foreseeable future, at least,” he said, worrying his lower lip between his teeth before adding, “Possibly indefinitely.”

“Oh.” Enjolras nodded slowly, trying to come up with something, anything to say. “Well, obviously there’s not much you or anyone else can do about your schedule, so, uh…”

He trailed off, not sure what else he wanted to say, and Grantaire managed a weak sort of smile. “At least I’ll still be at the Sunday meetings,” he assured Enjolras, who just nodded.

“Right,” he said, even though it wasn’t the same thing by any stretch.

Grantaire nodded, shifting awkwardly. “Anyway, I’ll, uh, I’ll see you when I see you,” he said awkwardly.

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Enjolras echoed, watching as Grantaire made his way back to where Joly and Bossuet were waiting, trying to determine why exactly he felt like something between him and Grantaire had shifted, and not for the better.

— — — — —

Three weeks later, the feeling had only intensified, not helping by missing Grantaire on Thursdays.

“Did you have a fight?” Courfeyrac asked, for what was probably the eighteenth time.

Enjolras shook his head. “No more than usual,” he said gloomily.

“The fact that you two even have a ‘usual’ amount of fighting probably speaks volumes in and of itself,” Combeferre remarked, not looking up from his phone.

“Do you plan on actually being helpful?” Courfeyrac asked, scowling at him.

Combeferre finally looked up, tucking his phone in his pocket. “With Enjolras and Grantaire? No. Because the only foolproof way to figure out what’s going on with Grantaire is to ask Grantaire. Or, I guess, if you were truly crazy, you could just follow him because stalking’s always the answer.”

Enjolras nodded slowly. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Combeferre stared at him. “In case you were confused, the stalking part was sarcasm—”

“No, I know,” Enjolras said impatiently. “But he was somewhat cagey about his schedule changing, whatever that means, and maybe if I knew a little bit more about what was going on with him, I wouldn’t feel like this.”

“Right, because historically speaking, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong always works out,” Courfeyrac said with a snort.

“This time it will,” Enjolras said stubbornly.

Combeferre just shook his head. “Famous last words.”

— — — — —

That Thursday was the first that Enjolras could recall where his feet did not lead him down the well-trod path to the Musain. Instead, he lingered outside of Grantaire’s apartment, partially hidden inside the entryway to a vacant store.

Maybe Courfeyrac had a little bit of a point about the stalking.

But Enjolras’s mind was made up, and he was determined to get to the bottom of this one way or another. So when he saw Grantaire exit the building, pausing on the stoop to fumble for a cigarette, Enjolras knew he had really left himself no other choice but to follow him.

So he did, across several city blocks, almost losing him when a Tesla decided that red lights clearly didn’t apply to them, but eventually, they arrived at what Enjolras assumed was their quarry.

To his absolute bafflement, it was a church.

Grantaire headed inside like he did this every day, and Enjolras hesitated before following. He hadn’t been in a church since the last time his mother made him go, which had been in high school, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust when he stepped inside.

He hesitated, glancing around. Grantaire was nowhere to be seen, and Enjolras was loath to just wander into the sanctuary.

But then the door behind him opened and Enjolras jumped guiltily. “Sorry about that,” a friendly voice said behind him, and Enjolras glanced over at the kind-looking woman who had just come in. “Are you looking for the meeting?” Enjolras almost asked what meeting, but figured he’d invite more questions than it was worth if he did, so he settled for nodding. “It’s downstairs,” she told him, pointing helpfully in the direction of the staircase.

Enjolras nodded his thanks and headed down the stairs in question. The basement of the church was much more brightly-lit, and finding the meeting room was relatively easy. The room was crowded, enough that Enjolras was able to slip inside without notice, taking a seat in the back of the room.

He glanced around at the rows of metal folding chairs, wondering what exactly was going on here. But his question was answered all too quickly by the same kindly woman from before standing up at the front of the room and smiling at everyone. “Good evening,” she said. “My name is Fantine, and I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Fantine,” the room murmured in response, but Enjolras was too stunned to speak, a strange sort of ringing sound in his ears.

So this meant – Grantaire was a—

“If this is your first time joining us as Narcotics Anonymous, welcome,” the woman continued, but Enjolras could barely listen to whatever else she was saying, especially since the sound of his own heartbeat was so loud.

He glanced around, wondering if he could possibly slip out without being noticed or without being noticed when he heard Grantaire’s name, and he froze.

“We have some chips to give out tonight, so Grantaire, if you want to join me up here.”

Enjolras shrank down in his chair, wishing that the entire floor would just swallow him up before Grantaire could notice him. But almost immediately after accepting his chip and a hug from the woman, Grantaire glanced out at the audience, and almost just as quickly locked eyes with Enjolras.

For a moment, Grantaire’s eyes widened, just slightly, before his expression evened out and he took a step forward to address the group. “My name is Grantaire, and I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Grantaire,” the room murmured back towards him, though Enjolras remained silent, not trusting himself to speak, and he kept his gaze firmly on the floor.

“I, uh, I’ve been clean for two years,” Grantaire continued, and Enjolras did glance up at that, surprised, because he never would have guessed— “I was clean for almost ten years before that but I, well, I fell off the wagon– Right, sorry, no euphemisms. I relapsed two years and a week ago.”

His eyes flickered over to Enjolras. “I had been clean for so long that most of the people in my life didn’t even know I was a drug addict. That I still am a drug addict.”

Grantaire paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “When the pandemic was just beginning, before the shutdown but we started to hear that a shutdown might happen, I mentioned to a coworker that I hoped my doctor’s appointment wouldn’t get canceled. I had hurt my shoulder at a protest and I needed to get it checked out. And my coworker, who didn’t know any better, told me he had almost an entire bottle of oxy that he got prescribed after a surgery he had.”

Something tightened in Grantaire’s expression. “And he asked if I wanted them.”

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper as he added, “And I said yes.”

Something twisted in Enjolras’s chest, but Grantaire just took another deep breath before barrelling onward. “I didn’t take them right away. I hid them under my bed. And for a while, for a good long while, that was enough. I was fine, because I had a bottle of oxy under my bed, just in case. I was fine, because I had so much control, or at least, that’s what I told myself.”

His usual self-deprecation slipped into his tone, but Enjolras heard the bitterness for what it was, knew that behind every joke at his own expense, Grantaire had always intended a little bit of truth. And for some reason, knowing that made Enjolras’s chest ache. “Then I got laid off in June of 2021, and in July, I got in a really stupid fight with a friend, and we both said some things we shouldn’t have, and—”

Enjolras’s heart sank even further. He knew the fight in question.

He had been the other party of the fight in question.

“And I’m a drug addict,” Grantaire said. “And I had a bottle of oxy under my bed. So it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what I did next.”

He shrugged, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes. “I wanted to try and stretch it out, just take a little at a time because it’s not like I had a dealer who could get me more, y’know? And if I was just taking one pill at a time, surely that’s different than when I used to snort it or smoke it or whatever.”

He barked a bitter laugh and drew a hand across his face. “The bottle was gone by the end of the week.”

There were a few murmurs of understanding from the audience, and Grantaire paused while he waited for it to subside. “When I got sober enough to leave my apartment, I went straight to the park. I’d always seen some junkies hanging around there and I figured I could get a hookup from them. Only, uh, there was this protest…”

Again, Enjolras knew exactly what protest it had been. It was strange, hearing these details surrounding events he had known, had lived, but in a way he never could’ve suspected. “I was supposed to be at that protest. I had forgotten about it or maybe I didn’t even care enough to remember it in the first place, but seeing it, seeing my friends—”

For the first time, Grantaire’s voice broke. “That probably saved my life.”

Enjolras looked up sharply, meeting Grantaire’s eyes. “I think I knew that if I went in that park, and I scored whatever, I would be dead within six months.” He jerked a shrug. “And I just– I didn’t want to die anymore.”

This time, the brief silence that followed was broken by the sound of someone clapping, and then more people started clapping, and then the whole room joined in. Grantaire looked startled by the response, managing a small, somewhat embarrassed smile, and he gave a small wave before returning to his seat.

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, and Enjolras was torn between making a run for it as soon as the meeting was over, or offering Grantaire some kind of explanation, or at least an assurance that he wasn’t going to say anything.

It wasn’t his secret to tell. Then again, it also hadn’t been his secret to learn in the first place.

In the end, the decision was made for him, as the meeting broke up and Grantaire made a beeline over to him, his expression dark. “I don’t know what Joly’s been telling you, but caffeine isn’t a narcotic.”

“I know that,” Enjolras said, his voice low. “And I know I owe you and explanation—”

“Not here,” Grantaire interrupted, his voice tight. He jerked his head toward the staircase and Enjolras followed him in silence as they left the church and headed to a 24-hour diner just down the street.

They both settled into a booth in the back of the diner, and when the waitress came over to take their order, Grantaire gave her a tight smile. “Just two coffees, thanks.”

It was only after she had returned with their coffees that Grantaire finally met Enjolras’s eyes. “Well,” he said, cradling his coffee cup between both hands. “I knew someone was going to get curious, but I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect it to be you.”

“I shouldn’t have followed you,” Enjolras told him. “If I had known this was where you were going—”

“But you didn’t,” Grantaire said with a shrug. “And I could have been slightly more forthcoming of why I was going to be absent on Thursdays.” He took a sip of coffee before telling Enjolras, “They changed meeting times. They used to meet on Wednesdays, but now it’s Thursdays. I’ve been, uh, working on finding a different meeting, but I’ve been going to this group for years so it’s not, like, easy.”

“I would assume not,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire cocked his head. “Would you?” he asked, almost amused. “I’d’ve guessed you wouldn’t have any experience with this sort of thing.”

Enjolras flushed, just slightly. “I don’t,” he said.

Grantaire nodded slowly. “In that case, what do you want to know?”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Enjolras blurted, and Grantaire just arched an eyebrow as he took another sip of coffee.

“I’m well aware,” he said. “But you already know the worst of it, so I figure, in for a penny, in for a pound.”

Enjolras swallowed and glanced down at his own coffee before looking up at Grantaire again. “Fine, then there’s really only one question that I have: are you ok?”

Grantaire looked surprised. “That’s your only question?”

It wasn’t, not by a long shot, but— “It’s the only one that matters.”

Something softened in Grantaire’s expression. “Then yes,” he said, with honesty. “I’m ok.”

Enjolras nodded. “Ok.”

“But I know you have other questions besides that.”

“I do,” Enjolras admitted, somewhat reluctantly. “Including one that’s, um, potentially insensitive, I guess.”

Grantaire didn’t look surprised, and he settled back in his seat. “Fire away.”

“You’re a drug addict,” Enjolras said, and saying the words out loud for the first time made them somehow seem more real. “And you said you’re clean now. But you still drink, and smoke pot.”

“I take more edibles than smoking these days but yes, that is correct,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras hesitated. “How does that work?”

Grantaire barked a dry laugh. “Under the supervision of a psychiatrist, mostly. Abstinence, or being completely clean, works for some people – is the only thing that works for some people.” He shrugged. “For me, I almost exclusively drink and smoke to help my anxiety, and my psychiatrist and I are on the same page that while not the preferred treatment plan, it’s probably a better option than putting me on a pill regimen, given my history.”

Enjolras had never even considered that, and he nodded slowly before asking, “Can I ask another insensitive question?”

“You really don’t need my permission,” Grantaire told him, amused.

But Enjolras didn’t smile. “The fight you had with a friend – that was me, right?”

Grantaire’s smile disappeared, and he looked away. “Was that the insensitive question?” he asked, a little roughly.

Enjolras ignored him. “Did I cause this?” he asked, his voice low. “Cause you to– to fall off the wagon?”

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself if he had. Especially since the fight in question had been so stupid, one of those idiotic fights that had seemed so important at the time but in retrospect was just both of them having their heads too far up their own asses to concede that the other was at least half-right.

And he remembered the words he’d shouted at Grantaire all too well—

“Grantaire, you are incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying.”

He hadn’t meant it, had regretted it as soon as he had said it, though not nearly as much as he regretted it now.

“To relapse,” Grantaire corrected quietly. “It’s important not to use euphemisms, because that masks the reality of what happened.” His expression twisted. “Besides, I didn’t fall off the wagon as much as jump.”

Enjolras jerked a nod as if he understood. “Right.”

“And no,” Grantaire added, “you didn’t cause this.”

“But—”

“I’m a drug addict,” Grantaire interrupted. “Something happened in my life that wasn’t pleasant. People with healthy coping mechanisms find a way to deal with that. I chose a different coping mechanism, because I’m a drug addict.” He shrugged. “If I hadn’t had that bottle of oxy under my bed, would I have chosen differently? Maybe. Hopefully. But that has nothing to do with you, or our fight.”

Enjolras’s expression darkened as he remembered who had given Grantaire the pills in the first place. “Who was your coworker who gave them to you?”

Grantaire looked flatly at him. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not his fault either and I don’t want you firebombing his apartment building for something that isn’t his fault.”

Enjolras scowled. “He shouldn’t have—”

“Maybe not,” Grantaire said. “But I’m the one who said yes when he offered. I’m the only one at fault here, the only one to blame.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I think there’s probably something to be said about society also being at fault—”

Grantaire gave him a look. “Enjolras.”

“Sorry.”

Grantaire sighed, running a hand through his dark curls. “There are a million and one very valid reasons that I use drugs, that anyone uses drugs, from poverty to mental illness to, yes, a very broken society,” he said, a little impatiently. “And those are all important things to try to fix, but it doesn’t change the fact that no one held a gun to my head and made me take drugs. Least of all you.”

“Then why do I still feel like it’s my fault?”

Enjolras hadn’t meant to actually vocalize that, and he regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. But Grantaire just laughed lightly. “I’d guess it has something to do with your martyr complex, but what do I know.”

“I don’t have a martyr complex,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire just snorted derisively. “Sure you don’t.”

Enjolras frowned, just slightly. “Death, including, potentially, my own, can sometimes be a necessary tool to bring about change, but I’d much rather live to see the world I’m trying to create if I can.” He paused before adding, with as much sincerity as he ever had, “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you decided you’d rather live, to.”

Something tightened in Grantaire’s expression and he looked away. “It’s my turn to ask if I can ask you something,” he said.

“Of course,” Enjolras said immediately. “Anything.”

“Do you – does this change what you think about me?”

Grantaire’s voice was soft, so soft that Enjolras almost couldn’t hear him, and his heart clenched painfully, knowing that this, of all things, was what Grantaire was worried about. He bit back his initial, gut reaction, which was an emphatic no, because it wasn’t true.

And he would be doing Grantaire a disservice by lying to him now.

“It doesn’t make me think lesser of you,” he said instead, choosing his words carefully.

“To be fair, that bar’s so low it’s practically underground,” Grantaire interjected.

But Enjolras refused to fall back on their usual banter, to couch this conversation in anything other than the honesty he owed Grantaire. “But it does change what I think of you. I don’t see how it possibly couldn’t. You – to know that you were going through this over the past two years, that you’ve gone through this before, and yet you still show up, every single week, for a Cause that you don’t even believe in? To know that you could’ve given up so many times, and never did? Of course it changes what I think of you.”

Something flickered in Grantaire’s expression. “I’m not some kind of hero or something for being a drug addict.”

“Maybe not,” Enjolras said. “But it does make me think I may have misjudged your ability for commitment.”

To his surprise, Grantaire laughed at that, scrubbing a hand across his mouth. “This is what makes you think you’ve misjudged my commitment,” he repeated, almost incredulous. “Not the fact that I’ve shown up to every meeting and rally and protest over the past however many years.”

“That’s different,” Enjolras said.

“How?”

“Because that was commitment offered for someone else,” Enjolras told him quietly. “This was commitment to yourself.”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Well, I guess you’re not fully wrong,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “And, uh, let me get your coffee. It’s the least I can do.”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow. “To repay me for lightly stalking you?”

“To repay you for the fact that I should have told you all of this a long time ago,” Grantaire said. “Thus saving you from having to lightly stalk me.”

He tossed a twenty on the table and stood, clearly ready to leave, but Enjolras just looked up at him, his heart suddenly beating painfully in his chest. “Can I just say one more thing?”

Grantaire shrugged. “May as well.”

Enjolras stood, setting his hand lightly on the table next to Grantaire’s. “This changes what I think of you,” he said, his voice low, “but it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

Grantaire’s expression tightened. “Enjolras—”

“If anything, it just makes it even clearer,” Enjolras said, ignoring him. “And I’m not – now isn’t the time, especially since the last thing I want is for you to think that this is somehow because of what I learned tonight. But if tonight changed my mind on anything, it’s on thinking that somehow, we’d find a time for this. For us.” He hesitated before shifting his hand to rest it lightly on top of Grantaire’s, just for a moment. “ But maybe we have to make time.”

Grantaire stared down at their hands. “I—”

Enjolras squeezed his hand, just once, before pulling away. “When you’re ready, anyway.”

He turned to go but Grantaire caught his hand. “And if I’m ready now?”

“Are you?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “Not – not yet. I want to be—”

“I know,” Enjolras told him. He did – of all the revelations he had learned that night, his knowledge of how Grantaire felt was never in question. “But when you are, I’ll be here.”

Grantaire ducked his head. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Together, they left the diner, walking slowly in the direction of the Musain without even needing to say that’s where they were going. After a long silence, Grantaire glanced sideways at Enjolras. “What did you tell everyone about why you wouldn’t be at tonight’s meeting, anyway?”

“Oh,” Enjolras said. “Well, I told Combeferre and Courfeyrac the truth, that I was going to follow you.”

Grantaire laughed lightly. “You mean stalk me.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Tomato, to-mah-to.”

Grantaired nodded slowly. “So if Courfeyrac knows, that means everyone knows that you were following and/or stalking me tonight.”

Enjolras winced. “Probably.” He looked over at Grantaire. “I’m not going to tell anyone what I saw.”

“I never thought you would,” Grantaire told him, his voice low, and he glanced away before adding, “But, uh, I’m beginning to think that maybe I should.”

“Yeah?” Enjolras said.

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I think it’s about time.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras agreed, glancing down at his hand, still in Grantaire’s. Grantaire’s skin was rough against his, a testament to the life he’d lived, a life Enjolras had never appreciated before that night. Every callous was a reminder of what Grantaire had lived through, of everything that had brought them here, to this moment.

And rough or otherwise, it felt like where Enjolras’s hand had always belonged.

“Maybe it is.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #developing relationship #drug addiction cw #drugs cw #addiction cw #narcotics anonymous #relapse #self-indulgent #written for an audience of one aka me

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earthly-apples · 6 months

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Entering the Bahorel era as thoughts of “he should be extra hot you know like, with good cake and beard” enter my consciousness

Also random hair talk

Early on I used to think well Bossuet can have bits of hair in 1828 but laziness took over and now he’s bald throughout the years

And there used to be a hc to explain (when I bothered to give Jean two haircuts) the transition is that he grew a super furry beard to spite someone

But since I don’t even respect my own designs sometimes Jean has long hair even in a scene happening in 1832. I fully recognize the problem all the time but eh.

#when the anger rises in your chest #that adaptations have left out this hot boy #you know the brain rot has just gotten worse #my stuff #and lm hcs

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aaronstveit · 11 days

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bossuets → aaronstveit

i don't even know what to say about this one y'all. let's not talk about it. no need to signal boost, in fact i prefer if we just pretend this isn't happening to me thanks!

#personal post #url change

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gay-rad-desert · 9 months

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Grantaire and Combeferre

My @drinkwithme-exchange gift for @deadgayturtles !! I hope you like it :)

Accompanying headcanons for these drawings are under the cut :D

Grantaire and Combeferre meet in primary school in drama club and quickly become close friends

because they’re both little weird theatre nerds

they rehearse their lines together

already back then, they start to come up with their own ideas for short plays together and frequently improvise scenes together just for fun

they continue to visit the same high school where they’re both taking the same drama class

with the end of high school approaching, Grantaire decides to attempt at getting into art school but simultaneously, he’s having a rough time mentally and doubts himself a lot

Combeferre is the person who keeps encouraging him patiently, is always there for Grantaire and helps him to work hard on his application

Grantaire ends up getting accepted at his dream school

Grantaire moves away to go to art school and he moves in with Joly and Bossuet

they’re the most fun roommates he could’ve asked for and the three of them have a fun time during college

Grantaire really thrives in art school and decides to add drama and teaching to his career plan

he graduates and gets his first job as a teacher quite young, but keeps living with Joly and Bossuet, who are both still studying

his students love him and Grantaire manages to write an original play together with them in only his first year of teaching (and it’s actually a big success)

meanwhile the students from his art class are in charge of designing the stage and the costumes

Combeferre is going to medical school in a different city

Enjolras and Courfeyrac become his roommates and close friends

Combeferre is severely struggling with med school, he loves everything he learns and it is his passion but he’s constantly burnt out, not sleeping enough and struggling a lot to keep up and balance it with taking care of himself

Enjolras and Courfeyrac of course notice that their friend isn’t doing well and they talk to him and help him realise that he can’t keep going like this

he pauses his studies for a while and starts going to therapy, trying to make his life work out again

he decides to change career plans in favor of his health and becomes a teacher for biology and drama

a few years in the future, Combeferre has his fist day as a teacher at a new school, and he’s very nervous about it

the principal tells him he’s gonna be working closely together with their second drama teacher and walks him to the drama classroom to introduce him to his colleague

when Combeferre walks into the room, he can’t believe his eyes when he spots Grantaire cleaning a huge whiteboard

and this is how they meet again after being parted on their separate journeys through college

they obviously become an absolutely iconic and fun teacher duo

#drinkwithme2023 #i can't believe this is the third year of this event man #so fucking cool #les miserables #les mis #combeferre #grantaire #enjolras #joly #bossuet #courfeyrac #les amis de l'abc #showing my art again

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coeur-feyrac · 12 days

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what if joly’s health anxiety extended to their gender and sexuality? like they’re obsessive about finding the right microlabels that fit them perfectly and they’ve changed their pronouns so many times they’ve collected pins with every possible combination. they’ve been everywhere on the aro and ace spectrums. for one terrifying night they were convinced they might just be cis and straight, and bossuet and musichetta had to talk them down from a panic attack, saying they would still love them even if they were. they’ve also been a gay man and a straight woman and a lesbian and a genderqueer bisexual.

nothing seems to be the perfect fit. and of course, all their friends love and support them through everything, gently reminding them that just being queer is perfectly fine, wanting a label is perfectly fine, their journey is perfectly fine.

#this may or may not be me casting my friend as joly #jbm week 2024 #les mis #les miserables #joly

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jondrettegirls · 1 year

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[ID: A crowded, saturated, digital drawing of Les Amis de l’ABC from “Les Miserables.” Bahorel and Jehan are chatting with Grantaire, who has an arm around Joly, who is talking to Bossuet. Enjolras and Combeferre are in discussion, with Feuilly coming to join. Courfeyrac talks to Marius, which Eponine watches. Gavroche is pickpocketing Bossuet. End ID.]

messing around w les amis designs hmm

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dolphin1812 · 9 months

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“Joly will go to Dupuytren’s clinical lecture, and feel the pulse of the medical school.”

Puns are serious in politics.

More seriously, this chapter is nice in how it shows Enjolras’ love for his friends. He knows them really well, as demonstrated by their assignments. Courfeyrac, for instance, gets to utilize his social skills and general friendliness with the students who have the day off, whereas Joly gets to talk to fellow medical students and Bossuet gets to handle the law students. Picpus seems to have been a working class neighborhood with many craftsmen, suiting Combeferre’s curious nature. La Glacière was where ice was collected in winter to store for summer, so we can assume this was also a working class area suited to Feuilly, just as the Romantic Prouvaire is suited to a masonic lodge.

I tried to find information on the Cougourde, but the text for this chapter came up instead.

While it’s nice to see Enjolras’ knowledge of his friends from an emotional perspective, it also illustrates that he’s a good leader, utilizing each of their strengths to further their cause. He even remembers (and accurately describes) Marius, who doesn’t even show up anymore!

Grantaire may scold Enjolras as an “ingrate” here, but he did call republican ideas “twaddle,” so Enjolras is justified in being skeptical of him. The allusions in what Grantaire says are mainly to writings from the time of the French Revolution or that were very influential in it (like Rousseau’s Social Contract). The Hébertists were a radical group during the Revolution. He errs in saying the “constitution of the year Two” (there were constitutions for years I and III, but not II), but I believe he paraphrases the Declaration of the Rights of Man? So Grantaire does know what he’s talking about; he just isn’t making much of a point. As we’ve seen with his other speeches, he’s clearly well-educated from the breadth of what he alludes to, but he’s not really motivated politically.

The Robespierre waistcoat is such a dramatic touch.

And not to say too much about Enjolras loving his friends, but this!!:

“He composed, in his own mind, with Combeferre’s philosophical and penetrating eloquence, Feuilly’s cosmopolitan enthusiasm, Courfeyrac’s dash, Bahorel’s smile, Jean Prouvaire’s melancholy, Joly’s science, Bossuet’s sarcasms, a sort of electric spark which took fire nearly everywhere at once.”

He cares so much!

#Les mis letters #lm 4.1.6 #les amis de l'abc #enjolras #grantaire

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lesamiesdelalgbt · 2 months

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It was an accident. Grantaire had been out with some friends and it was so easy to just. Fall back into old habits. One minute he was talking to Bossuet and Joly, the next he was puking his guts out in the bathroom.

He ended up getting home a lot later than he said would. He knew Enjolras was going to be mad. But he just couldn't bring himself to care.

When he walked inside he tried his best not wake Enjolras. Upon entering the living room, however, he realized it was in vain.

Enjolras was sitting on the couch staring at him. Grantaire could tell he was upset.

"'Sup," He said weakly.

"Really? That's all you have to say? 'Sup'?" Enjolras responded angrily. "I was worried about you. You said you'd be home hours ago. You haven't answered a single one of my calls or- Are you drunk?" He asked incredulously upon seeing Grantaire swaying where he stood.

"Maybe," he giggled.

"Grantaire, you told me you would stop drinking,"

"Ok? It was just tonight! I was having fun!"

Enjolras sighed, grabbing Grantaire and starting to pull him towards their bedroom.

"Oooh~ you're what are you going to do me?"

Enjolras responded exasperatedly, "You are going to bed."

"Aww but I just got home! We could do some other things in bed instead," Grantaire pouted as he let Enjolras pull him into the bedroom.

"No. You are going to bed, and we are going to have a talk in the morning."

"Ugh ok,"

Enjolras helped Grantaire put some pajamas and gently led him to the bed. As he turned to leave, he felt his arm being grabbed.

"Where are you going?" Grantaire asked, confused.

"I'm sleeping on the couch."

"Oh,"

Neither said anything else as Enjolras left the bedroom

#k so like i havent written a fic in forever so this is prob super and ooc lol #i havent even written a fic for this fandom before lol #les miserables #les mis #grantaire #enjolras #enjoltaire

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wilwywaylan · 11 months

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HAPPY BARRICADE DAY TO ALL, I'm not too late !!!!

But I'm certainly dead. I sadly hated doing parts of that drawing, and that's a little sad... because I chose the wrong paper and did it all on marker paper, which I had never used... and which I hated so much because the colors were wrong and the markers kept acting like paint. Hiss ! Hiss !

But here it is ! inspired by the banquet at the end of the Asterix comics (idea courtesy of the amazing @rolls-of-the-tongue-nicely). Fitting everyone around the table wasn't that easy, but I managed ! (please ignore that Valjean is like two Marius' big.)

The aesthetic is totally @crow-songs-at-dawn's idea, she suggested the mix and I ran with it. Also hers is the Ikea influence... because we went to Ikea. So there.

(Blåhaj)

This year, even Patron-Minette made the cut, because they too deserve cake and watch Monty make a fool of himself ! ... next year, I'll add the cats.

HAPPY BARRICADE DAY WHERE NO ONE IS DEAD !!!!

And the progress gif !

(long description under the cut)

[image ID : a large round table sitting in the middle of rubble, with a fire burning high in the middle. All the Amis and friends are gathered around the table. They are all dressed in period-accurate fashion, except Jehan who's wearing a long coat and Vonda boots, and Grantaire who's wearing disco pants and platform shoes. At one hand, Bahorel (man with tan skin, long black hair, black eyes and a beard), is standing to make a speech. Feuilly (smaller white man with copper curls, golden eyes and freckles), is looking at him, smiling, while Enjolras (small white man with long blond hair and blue eyes) is still talking to him. Courfeyrac (small plump man with tan skin, wild black curls and brown eyes) is raising his glass and filming with his phone. He's leaning on Combeferre (tall man with brown skin, black hair in an undercut, grey eyes and glasses), who's reading something on a tablet. On the other side of the fire, Joly (asian man with brown hair and green eyes) is sitting on Musichetta's lap (tall woman with brown skin, long, pink wavy hair and brown eyes), and filming Grantaire with his phone. Grantaire (tall man with tan skin, stubble and black curls) is dancing wildly on the table. Beside him, Bossuet (black man with shaved head and dark blue eyes) is falling over, his glass flying behind him. Gavroche (white boy with brown short hair and grey eyes) is also filming Grantaire. Fantine (black woman with blond hair hidden by a headscarf and brown eyes) is sitting near him and looking at Valjean, Marius and Cosette. Javert (tall man with tan skin, long black hair, black eyes and large sideburns) is glaring at the table. Valjean (tall, stocky man with tan skin, long white hair, brown eyes and a white beard) is gesturing wildly while talking to Marius (white man with short black hair, blue eyes and freckles), who's looking down at his phone. Eponine (white woman with a pink sidecut and grey eyes) is cheering at Bahorel but looking at Marius. She's holding Cosette's waist, and Cosette (black, plump woman with braids dyed in purple and brown eyes) has a hand on Marius' back. On her left, Montparnasse (white man with slicked back black hair and brown eyes) is looking dreamily at Jehan (tall white man with a long copper braid, brown eyes and freckles) who's playing the harp along Bahorel's words, closing the circle. In the upper left corner, Patron Minette is sitting, with Babet (white man with cropped brownish gray hair) and Claquesous (white man with long white hair tied in a bun and a mask) eating cake, and Gueulemer (tall black man with black dreadlocks and black eyes) looking at Montparnasse. All around them are piled a lot of debris, including paving stones, old furniture, chairs, rafters, Ikea bags full of stones, and an Ikea shark. end ID]

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euphraisette · 1 year

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i am SICK and tired of my babygirl cosette being sidelined from the amis ESPECIALLY in modern aus so heres some friendship hcs bcs theyre ALL friends fight me on it

-cosette and enjolras are siblings on their dads side. once they find each other and realize that they're siblings they become literally inseperable because they're so similar but also because they help challenge each other to be better where the other is lacking a little. enjolras help cosette to focus all of her ambition and idealism and drive and cosette helps enjolras see the world as living for love, not just justice, and helps him relax and enjoy things a little more while never compromising his ideals. he teaches her a lot about activism and informs a lot of her views about the world while still respecting the ones she already has and encourages her to get more involved with the amis, eventually she's one of the most active and passionate members

-grantaire is OBSESSED with being the 'protective big brother' and is mostly always hovering around her because they have a similar sense of humor (which is a little shocking to marius but he gets used to it). they binge watch will ferrel movies and go for 3 am mcdonalds runs and cosette most often poses for portraits when r needs a female model

-COURF AND COSETTE ARE BFFS. literally they are inseparable and enj constantly has to tell them to stop making jokes at meetings and they go on shopping trips together and go to cafes every day and gossip abt marius

-also i came up with this random hc a long time ago that combeferre and cosette recreationally sing opera together??? idk i can just imagine them as papageno/papagena in tmf and they'd have so much fun. also cosette LOVES history but it's not her major so she like... basically gets a secondary education from ferre in whatever history he's studying and they have long ass study sessions together

-idk what anyone says ep and cosette are besties. it takes a little while for ep to get over the whole marius thing and they have several long talks about moving past what happened at the inn where ep apologizes a whole bunch for participating on cosettes abuse and cosette is like 'hon. you were a CHILD you didn't know any better' so they become besties and have an apartment with chetta and swap clothes sometimes and cosette likes to braid ep's hair and ep loves cosette because when she's having a bad day cosette is really the only one who ~gets~ it

-SPEAKING OF CHETTA she's like obsessed with cosette in the same way R is, they basically like adopt her as her big siblings. as soon as they meet chetta is like "oh! baby! baby girl! my baby?" and yeah. i hc chetta being like two or three years older than everybody so she likes to take everyone under her wing but cosette has been so sheltered that chetta loves to open her eyes to the *world* and does things like takes her to buy lingerie for the first time

-joly and cosette like to go on walks around campus because they both have some free time in the middle of the day so they hang out and cosette goes to him for help with ballet-related injuries and joly always goes to her recitals like 'hmm. i should start carrying around second skin or smth' and then the next day courf like gets a blister cause he was wearing jehan's shoes and joly is like '!!!!!! i have just the thing!!!!!' and he and cosette share a wink

-bossuet and cosette are so close holy. bossuet gets her input on lesson plans and sometimes he's prone to some fits of self-doubt but cosette knows how to get him back on his feet and smiling in no time. they're also the two most accident-prone members of the amis so whenever one of them rolls up with like their hand covered in band-aids or a weird random bruise on their leg or smth they just share a nod like 'yup'

-cosette likes to knit while feuilly makes fans. it's quiet and they don't talk a lot (or sometimes at all) but it's so nice to have another person there to smile at over a cup of tea while participate in their crafts. they care a lot about one another even if their interactions are mostly playful ribbing.

-bahorel and cosette go to the gym together. bahorel also bought this vintage vw bus and whenever cosette is getting sort of overstimulated and stressed she goes and lays down in the back of it and sometimes bahorel will come and sit in the front and softly play guitar but mostly just lets her be. they play video games together and yeah.

-jehan is probably closest to cosette after marius, enj, and ep. they hang out at old dusty bookstores and go to cooking classes together and press flowers into books and have picnics and knit things for each other and belt out the killers together.

-cosette is gavroche's favorite babysitter. she likes to take him places for the *experience* so they go to museums or the science center or the zoo and more often than not courf will tag along so poor cosette has TWO rambunctious lads to babysit but it's always the most fun. she always makes sure he has enough money for a school field trip or lunch or a new coat. gavroche lives mostly in a group home since eponine couldn't get guardianship but he crashes most nights on the couch at the girls place or sometimes in cosette's old room at the fauchelevent house, where msr. fauchelevent makes him breakfast in the morning and sends him to school with a bag of old hand-me-downs for him to keep. she's just another sister to him.

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kjack89 · 9 months

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Two Sides to Every Story

Just a little modern AU E/R fluff for a Sunday night.

The Musain August 18, 2023 10:15am

“God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover,” Bossuet groaned as he pulled open the door to the Musain, automatically taking a step back to let Joly in first.

Joly just laughed. “You say that every weekend,” he pointed out. “Which means there’s probably a lesson in there about hanging out with Grantaire and its long-term effect on our livers.”

Bossuet just grunted an acknowledgement. “Right, so, you get the drinks, and I’ll find Grantaire?” he suggested.

“Perfect.”

It wasn’t like Grantaire was hard to spot by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a greater than passing chance that he hadn’t made it in yet, or had fallen asleep in the back room, or was emptying his stomach in the bathroom.

But worse, to Bossuet’s immediate irritation, Grantaire was awake, seemingly hangover-free, and on the phone. He gave Bossuet a wave when he saw him, but didn’t hang up. “Yeah, no, I totally get it,” he said, his tone making it entirely obvious who he was talking to, which only made Bossuet’s irritation grow. “Takeout’s fine, you know me, I’m flexible.” He winked at Bossuet, who rolled his eyes. “In more ways than one.”

“No, no, don’t mind me, I’ll just sit here listening to you badly propositioning your boyfriend,” Bossuet grumbled, though despite his irritation and raging hangover, he didn’t quite sound as sour as he had intended. Probably because he had been wanting this for Grantaire for, like, ever, and at the end of the day, he was a bit of a softie. “Tell Enjolras I say hi.”

“Bossuet says hi,” Grantaire said dutifully, his smile widening at whatever Enjolras said in response. Then he straightened, his smile fading, just slightly. “Oh, sure. Love you.”

He paused, and Bossuet glanced at him, wondering what Enjolras was saying in response to that. After all, it’s not like the man was renowned for his sentimental side—

“Nuh-uh,” Grantaire said, his grin back in full force. “I love you more.”

Turns out when Bossuet was wrong, he was really wrong.

“No, I love you more.”

Bossuet rolled his eyes again, glancing around to see if Joly was on his way with the drinks to rescue him from having to listen to this.

“No, you hang up first.” Grantaire laughed at whatever Enjolras said. “I love you, talk to you tonight.”

He hung up and grinned that same stupid, dopey grin at Bossuet, who just gave him a withering look. “You two are revolting. You know that, right?”

“And here I thought you believed in true love,” Grantaire said innocently, snickering and dodging Bossuet’s half-hearted attempt to sock him in the arm.

His phone buzzed on the table and he reached for it, but Bossuet beat him to it, picking it up and glancing down at the screen to read the text. “From Enjolras,” he read out loud. “I love you the most.”

He mimed throwing up while Grantaire wrestled his phone back from him, laughing. Joly arched an eyebrow as he carried their drinks over to the table. “Do I even want to know?”

“No,” Bossuet and Grantaire said at the same time.

City Hall 10:15am

“Anyway, this is our third meeting with the Civilian Office of Police Accountability, and needless to say, we’re getting nowhere,” Enjolras said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glanced down the hallway. “And I know tonight’s supposed to be date night, but I was hoping I could talk you into takeout at my place instead.”

“Yeah, no, I totally get it,” Grantaire said immediately, and Enjolras let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. Of course, he’d really had no reason to be worried – this thing with Grantaire was easy in a way that Enjolras had never allowed himself to believe a relationship could be. As easy and as perfect as Enjolras had hoped it would be when he finally let himself admit what seemingly everyone else had already put together on their own. “Takeout’s fine, you know me, I’m flexible.” Enjolras preemptively rolled his eyes, already knowing what was coming by the smirk he heard in Grantaire’s voice. “In more ways than one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Enjolras said dryly.

Grantaire’s grin sounded particularly self-satisfied when he said, “Bossuet says hi.”

“And Combeferre’s on his way here, so once he arrives, we’ll have ourselves a quorum.” The secretary poked her head out into the hallway and gestured at him, and Enjolras sighed. “Shit, I gotta go. Honestly, I’m tempted to just offer to withdraw the complaint against the department as a whole if it mean they’d actually do fuck all about the officers involved. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh, sure,” Grantaire said, much more seriously than before. “I love you.”

Enjolras glanced over as the elevator doors dinged and Combeferre got off. “Uh-huh, you as well,” he said, a little distractedly, because Combeferre looked particularly grim, and Enjolras had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where this conversation was headed.

“Nuh-uh, I love you more.”

“Right,” Enjolras said blankly, tempted to ask if Grantaire was having a stroke. “Anyway—”

“No, I love you more.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed at Grantaire’s slightly gleeful tone. He might not have the slightest idea what Grantaire was doing, but judging by his tone, Grantaire sure did. “We’ll continue this conversation later—” he started warningly.

“No, you hang up first.”

“—no matter how fascinating this display of justification for homicide may be.”

Grantaire had the nerve to laugh. “I love you. Talk to you tonight.”

Enjolras hung up and forced a grimace masquerading as a smile at Combeferre. “You look like you have good news,” he said.

Combeferre just shook his head. “Dare I ask what that was?” he said mildly.

“Absolutely not,” Enjolras said firmly, typing a quick text to Grantaire: I love you the most. “So what’s going on that makes you look like someone’s died?”

“The mayor picked a new police superintendent,” Combeferre said, and Enjolras paused in the middle of composing his follow-up text.

“Well, that’s…” He trailed off, realization hitting. “Meaning COPA’s going to want to delay this until the superintendent gets approved by the Council and sworn in.”

Combeferre nodded. “Most likely.”

Something I want you to remember when I kill you with my bare hands tonight.

Enjolras clicked send on the second text before looking back at Combeferre. “Then in that case, fuck ‘em.”

Combeferre blinked. “Fuck ‘em?” he repeated, more intrigued than concerned. “Dare I ask what precisely you mean by that?”

“I mean fuck ‘em,” Enjolras said. “They’ve been trying to keep this quiet but if all they want to do is obfuscate and delay, let them. They’re not allowed to speak to the press about ongoing investigations, but we sure as fuck can.”

Combeferre nodded slowly. “You want to threaten to go to the press if they won’t move the investigation along.”

Enjolras’s phone dinged and he glanced down at it automatically. You said you were tempted to withdraw the complaint, the text from Grantaire said. Bet you’re not nearly so tempted now.

Enjolras felt a sharp smile stretch across his face. “Well played,” he murmured, so that Combeferre couldn’t quite hear him. “And no, I don’t want to threaten. I want us to do it. We’ll hold a press conference this afternoon, share everything we have. Should make for a nice little mess for the newly minted superintendent to deal with when he starts.”

The hint of a smile played at the corners of Combeferre’s mouth. “Burn it all to the ground,” he said.

Enjolras just shrugged. “Well, since Courfeyrac couldn’t make this meeting, someone’s gotta do it.”

Combeferre’s smile widened, and he gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “By all means, don’t let me stop you.”

Enjolras grinned as he glanced down at his phone and another text from Grantaire: You still going to kill me?

Jury’s still out, Enjolras sent back, hesitating before adding, But we’ve landed on a strategy of fuck ‘em and burn it all to the ground, so the odds look in your favor.

You’re welcome, Grantaire sent back, and Enjolras rolled his eyes.

If that’s your way of fishing for gratitude, good luck with that. He paused before adding, I love you.

A moment later, just as the secretary was letting them into the office for their meeting, Grantaire responded: Uh-huh, you as well ;)

Enjolras just rolled his eyes as he slipped his phone into his pocket, though he couldn’t help but smile.

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #established relationship #fluff #phone calls #text messages #drabble

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expired-applejuice · 1 year

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Part 5 of incorrect quotes

Bahorel: Guys, there's a monster under my bed and it's really ugly.

Grantaire, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

Cosette: i made a Marshmallow Inspector Javert.

Cosette: see? his arms are crossed because he's mad at Marshmallow Valjean for escaping him.

Cosette: you like it?

Javert:

Javert: *choked up* it's fine.

Courfeyrac: Once again, Courfeyrac and Combeferre save the day.

Enjolras: You didn't do anything It was all Combeferre.

Courfeyrac: We're a package deal. Everybody knows that.

Grantaire: Hello, fellow idiots

Enjolras: Hello, Grantaire

Grantaire: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Enjolras: You underestimate me

*Combeferre is cooking*

Grantaire: Any chance that's for me?

Combeferre: It's for Courfeyrac. I'm planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need him on my side.

Enjolras: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment

Enjolras: Feuilly isn't answering his phone

Bahorel: I'll call

Combeferre: Enjolras and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Feuilly: Hello?

Javert: God, give me patience.

Valjean: I think you mean "give me strength".

Javert: No, You better hope God doesn't give me strength because if he did, you'd be dead.

Joly: Hey, Bossuet? What does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Bossuet: i don't know, I love you, talk to you later.

Joly: Oh, okay, I'll just ask Musichetta. I love you too.

Bossuet:

Jehan: You have to apologize.

Montparnasse: Fine, but this might make me a better and more likable person and that is not the man you fell in love with!

Someone may have done this

*playing truth or dare*

Eponine: Okay, truth or dare?

Grantaire: Dare.

Eponine: Kiss the next person who arrives.

Grantaire: Gross, I'm not kissing any of you. None of you are my type.

*Enjolras walks in*

Grantaire:

Grantaire, using breath stray and putting on chapstick: Well, a dare's a dare.

Courfeyrac: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Marius: Seize the day, seize the night, what's the last one?

Courfeyrac: Seize the dick.

Grantaire: mean, sure, I have my bad days. But then I remember what a cute smile Apollo has.

Combeferre: *seductively takes off glasses*

Combeferre: Wow...

Courfeyrac, blushing: Haha... what?

Combeferre: You're really fucking blurry.

Bossuet: Hey, babe.

Joly: Hmm?

Bossuet: I need your help with a math problem.

Joly: Oh, sure! What do you need?

Bossuet: How do you simplify 2i<6u?

Joly: i<3u

Bossuet: Awww, i<3u too!

Joly:

Enjolras, texting Bossuet: Send dudes

Bossuet: You mean-

Bossuet: You mean send nudes??!

Enjolras: No, we crashed the funeral and I'm bleeding. Send Grantaire

Grantaire: *already ran out the door*

Combeferre: I know every song to ever exist, doesn't matter when it was made.

Enjolras: Oh, yeah?

Grantaire: Finish this; I don't cook, I don't clean-

Combeferre: but let me tell you how got this ring,

Combeferre, Grantaire, and Courfeyrac, who came out of no were: GOBBLE ME, SWALLOW ME, DRIP DOWN THE SIDE OF ME-

*undercover*

Eponine: You don't think can fight because I'm a girl.

Marius: 'Ponie I don't think you can fight because you're in a wedding dress. To be fair, don't think Bahorel could fight in that either.

Bahorel: No, but I'd make a bomb ass wife.

Valjean: You're pouting.

Javert: I'm not pouting, I'm brooding.

Valjean: That's how pretty men pout.

Valjean, picking up his phone: Javert? I'm kind of busy right now-

Javert: Do you think drinking thirty-six cans of Redbull consecutively would heighten my senses or would I just die?

Valjean:

Valjean: I'm on my way.

Eponine: Bitches be like "I'm baby" but have childhood trauma and were neglected.

Eponine: Like what do you know about being baby? You were forced to grow up from an early age.

Eponine:

Everyone else:

Eponine: It's me. I'm bitches.

Gavroche, sighing: We know.

Feuilly: Y'all ever get so tired you see spiders?

Grantaire: Me when I take seventeen Benadryl and start seeing the Hat Man.

Jehan: THE WHAT?

Grantaire: Oh, so this is suddenly not a safe space?

Courfeyrac: Relationships should be 50/50; Combeferre cooks dinner while I sit on the counter looking pretty.

Bahorel: Not everyone likes you, Montparnasse. You aren't Feuilly.

Montparnasse: Not everyone likes Feuilly??

Enjolras, coming out of no where: Who?

Montparnasse:

Bahorel, cracking his knuckles: we need names, Montparnasse.

Musichetta: Can you two cut me some slack? I'm sort of in love.

Joly: I'm sorry, but that's really not our problem.

Musichetta: I'm in love with you both.

Bossuet, blushing: Oh... that brings us into the loop a little.

Combeferre: I fell-

Courfeyrac: From heaven?

Combeferre: No, I literally fell-

Courfeyrac: In love with me the moment you saw me

Combeferre: MY ARM IS BROKEN, COURFEYRAC

Courfeyrac: Ok, but am I pretty? Be honest.

*Combeferre and Grantaire in a casino*

Combeferre: Grantaire, we're about to get kicked out-

Grantaire: Shush!

Combeferre: We gotta-

Grantaire: Shut up!

Combeferre: R-

Grantaire: Shh! Shush, shush, shush! Do you hear that?

Combeferre: Wha- are you drunk?

Grantaire: Yes, but listen!

Combeferre:

Grantaire:

Grantaire: It's the sound of me not giving a fuck.

Javert: We all have our demons.

Javert, pointing at Les Amis: These ones are mine.

Valjean, helping Marius stand after being wounded: You need to be careful, you're loosing a lot of blood-

Marius, loopy: I'm not "loosing" it, I know exactly where it is!

*Marius points to the puddle of his blood on the floor.*

Valjean: Oh, dear Lord, I should just leave you.

Enjolras, making his third cup of coffee: Why are my hands so shaky?

Combeferre, on his fifth: Your skeleton is ready to hatch.

Montparnasse, to Feuilly: What's the first thing you notice when someone approaches you?

Bahorel, holding Feuilly's hand: The audacity.

Combeferre: Did you know-

Bahorel: That somethings are better left unsaid?

Combeferre: Nice try.

Eponine: Do you have any idea how dangerous I'd be if I had zero self doubt?

Jehan: If I were a drink, I'd be cherry vanilla coke. If you were a drink, what would you be?

Grantaire: Bleach.

Bahorel: Blood

Montparnasse: arsenic

Feuilly: Alright, calm down edgelords.

Grantaire: Dad didn't raise a quitter!

Joly: I thought your dad left?

Grantaire: Which is why I'm quitting.

Grantaire to Combeferre: Do you think I'm ugly?

Combeferre: It's not about looks, R. What's valuable is on the inside.

Grantaire, touched: Aww...

Combeferre: For example, someone's heart.

Grantaire: You're a good friend, Combeferre -

Combeferre: It can be priced at over one million US dollars, you know.

Grantaire:

Grantaire: Ok, here's my wishlist.

Musichetta: This is surprisingly reasonable.

Joly: We could probably get all this by Christmas.

Enjolras: Oh, so no one's gonna ask why I'm on the list?

Grantaire: That's more of a hope.

Enjolras: I still don't get why I'm on the list?

Bossuet, to Grantaire: Are you sure you don't want someone else?

Grantaire: Nope, I want him.

Enjolras: CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY I'M OM THE LIST?!

*playing Would You Rather?*

Eponine: Ok, R. Would you rather die or-

Grantaire: Die.

Cosette: She hasn't even-

Grantaire: Die.

Marius: Grantaire, we talked about this...

Enjolras: I was born for politics.

Enjolras: have great hair and I'm great at lying.

Bahorel: I've thought about taking swim classes for adults, but honestly that's sadder than just drowning.

Combeferre, to Grantaire: I need 45 minutes away from you, and then we can be best friends again.

Montparnasse: *raises eyebrows *

Jehan: Put those back down

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