#Bosseut

[evilrobotdog]

Sketchbook spreads with mostly my Les Mis art

Just don’t mind the page with the drawings of me and my friends as Monty python characters LOL

[askclato]

Enjolras: What’s with the napkin on the glass door?

Courfeyrac: Bosseut keeps walking into the glass door, so I thought this would help.

Bosseut: Oh cool! A floating napk- *walks into the glass door*

[drunken-devotion]

from what i’ve gathered from this post, i should just draw every ship like this

who in les mis

[officerwaltons]

“   i’ll  try  to  find  us  somewhere  to  spend  the  night .   ” Enj for Musichetta

MUSICHETTA STUDIED THE leader of the group of students who met at her place of work. She knew him to posses many qualities, chief among them a certain air of confidence known only to the bourgeois. She did not expect him to pay much heed to her, at any rate.

She suppose he’d spoken thus out of obligation to Joly and Bosseut. They were friends of his, she knew. She’d only been at this rally because they’d pleaded with her to attend, said how much it would mean to them. Begrudgingly, she’d set aside her work dress and donned the only one she owned that passed for a lady’s day dress, and agreed. She had lost them somewhere in the crowd after the rally had gotten ugly, and somehow, had ended up alone with Enjolras.

“You don’t need to do that,” Musichetta protested. She was frowning, having just noticed the rather obnoxious mud stains all along the hem of her skirts. “I can make my own way. You’ve no obligation to me, monsieur.”

[thebeatingofyourheart]

Summer Les Amis headcanons (that no one asked for)

Enjolras burns but hates sunblock so the first nice day of the year, he’ll go out with the others but turn as red as his famous hoodie

Grantaire proceeds to tease him mercilessly until he realizes Enjolras also get freckles. At that point, he stops talking and needs to lie down

Joly is the Mom Friend™️ and always has sunblock, water, towels, first aid kits, anti-itch cream, etc

Bosseut broke his leg the first week and he couldn't go swimming but he happily participated in sand castle competitions

Combeferre loves the lightning bugs that come out in the summer and always takes pictures and names them

Courfeyrac is the KING of water gun fights much to everyone's dismay

Bahorel and Feuilly always start a friendly game of volleyball and then they both get really competitive in the end

Jehan makes personalized tie-dyed towels every year

They all go down the shore together and chip in for a tiny shack by the water and most of them end up sleeping on each other and with ;)

[the-blood-of-angry-men]

I always wonder if I’m the only one stil obsessing over dead fictional French revolutionaries but then I go on tumblr and I get reassured that we all are.

[officerwaltons]

MUSICHETTA, BEGRUDGINGLY, FOUND HERSELF softened by the hand laid on her arm, then moved to hold her own hand. It wasn’t that she’d never been courted before Joly & Bosseut had come along, only that, no one had ever been quite so gentle with her. Her lovers, but Joly, in particular, treated her as if she were someone of value, to be treasured. It was a novel experience for the likes of Musichetta, who’d been taught that your value was based on your work from girlhood.

It was part of why she was so protective of Joly. All he seemed to ever do was help others. She watched him assist with planning with rallies, mending any injuries that occurred during them, and somehow still find time in his day for his studies. What she did not see him to do nearly often enough was take care of himself.

“It’s a cough I don’t like the sound of,” she answered, threading her fingers through his. “Let me make you something warm to drink. It’ll help soothe it, some.”

"It is my business because I care about you."

musichetta for joly !

"Chetta, I'm fine..." Joly leaned in to rest a gentle hand on her arm, only to double over with a harsh cough. He blushed through his general pallor and looked away, but moved to hold her hand and give it a squeeze. "It's just... just a cough. I promise." He hoped.

[les-mis-meme-team]

Les amis and co as things I/my friends have said

Enjolras: “You’re the most topish bottom here”

Grantaire: “There used to be a CCs Pizza over there but then it closed down because God isn’t real”

Combeferre: “Her raw chaotic energy sometimes overrides her mom energy , but she’s generally in that zone”

Courferyac: “I’ve come to realize that my style ranges between fuckboy and 50 year old dad

Feuilly: “I didn’t invite you on my ass. Consent is key.”

Bahorel: “I took a nap so I had a lot of energy, but it was also crackhead energy”

Jehan: “I’m always a slut for the industrial revolution”

Joly: *has long discussion about ass cancer*

Bossuet: “Bold of you to assume it would only take me 7 seconds to fall”

Marius: “Did you listen to Niall Horan’s new song?” “Is he one of the Beatles?”

Cosette: “Teenage boys just need their balls cut off”

Eponine: “Doesn’t everyone have a hand fetish?” “I think that’s just lesbians”

Musichetta: “Give me 10 minutes and a big stick and I’ll fix your man”

Gavroche: “Grammar doesn’t matter when you’re a gangsta”

Montparnasse: “Good afternoon corpses”

[enjol--taire]

yeet

[incorrectly-quoted-les-mis]

Bossuet: We need to think, how do we usually get out of these messes?

Grantaire: We don’t. We just make a bigger one that cancels the first one out.

[enjolrasingaround]

I wrote this all on discord so Ingore any fuckups but also I have to share this ( idk if the artist ment it this way but this is how I see it😞) also artist ur art is beatiful

LOOKKKKKK AT JEHAN THEY LOOKS SO SWEET MY BABBYY <3 Their so cute they look so kind Omgggg Jehan being orange is so smart Orange brings the same warmth jehan would if they were real Marius having such a tiny blue circle thing is so smart too because like all that time he was ever in the Ami’s he hadn’t really gave anything but his crys he weeps because he couldn’t be with the love of his life he didn’t even care about the Ami’s untill they died him having no real contributions to the meeting leaves him with such a small blob and I’m not quite sure why he was blue other then he was so upset in such despair due to cossette moving away that it left him gloomy, blue </3 fucking loser jehans circle thing taking up basically all of them also makes sense because they cared about the feelings of the people they was quite selfless they loved to see the world in warm colors when everybody was in love so they simply did more when the world was in shambles I actually don’t think I have anything on enjolras because idk man Some of these my tiny little brain cannot comprend enjolras will usually be the majority of it he’s such a like advanced character he’s so Him?? Grantaires circle thing taking up more then he needed to but still not fully him is so special to me too because like I tend to beleive he wasn’t even in the meeting because he cared about the people he was there for enjolras, to feel something other then the burning of alcohol in his throat it takes up more then needs to yet not enough to show how grantaire was always there always had something to say uh I forgot what I was saying but like he was loud, annoying but he was there and more then Marius and some other memebers but it still didn’t take up all of him because he never contributed for the right reason. He cared for nothing but enjolras his muse I haven’t seen enough feuillu to like have anything on him unfortunately </3 cuz I’ve been reading other stuff so sorry feuilly love u along w courf joly bosseut comebefferes Its a light blue blue is the opposite of red enjolras’s red was also rather light almost simalir in shades yet diffrent in the book I have they are said to be opposites in the same mànner they were the same in diffrent fonts there’s a difference in combeferres blue you usually see it in doctors while enjolras’s red u usually see as the fresh blood ( it’s a little bit lighter shut up .) of a person or animal . They are so diffrent yet go with each other I might be tripping but they look like their looking at each other

LES AMIS DESIGNS!!!

ik the colours are garish but they are the colours I have assigned to each les amis (I did not have a clear concept of bahorel when designing him forgive me bahorel stans)

[ijustreallylovezebras]

Misconceptions

Pairing: Courfeyrac x Reader

Summary: The reader is Enjolras’ sister and the rest of Les Amis look on her as another sister to the group but Courfeyrac always acts oddly around her

Requested: Yes! By the same lovely anon!

“I’m just saying, you’re an awful influence on my sister! The two of you, actually,“ Enjolras says to Bahorel and his boyfriend, Grantaire as I take a sip from the bottle of wine that Grantaire had given me earlier that evening.

“I don’t know what you mean,“ they say together, both of them sounding outraged.

“Grantaire, you’re going to turn her into an alcoholic,“ he says, scowling at the guy who shakes his head.

“No chance of that, she’s your sister, right?“

“But we don’t encourage it, even if it doesn’t happen!“ Enjolras exclaims and Grantaire just shrugs.

“I can’t see your point but I’ll nod, because it makes you easier to bear,“ Grantaire informs my brother, patting him on his head.

“And what about you, Bahorel?“ Enjolras asks, facing the man who feigns an insulted look.

“Moi?“ The response makes Joly laugh into his pipe and Grantaire chuckles at the reaction.

“You taught her how to fire a gun!“ Enjolras says, throwing his hands up in the air, which makes me laugh. “You taught her how to fight!” 

Bahorel just rolls his eyes at my brother. “Oh, okay, I see how it is. She can fight in a revolution but she can’t learn basic self-defence!” Bahorel shouts. “Yes! That makes perfect sense!” He claps sarcastically and everyone laughs. 

“You’re ridiculous, Bahorel!” Enjolras groans. “You’re on my side right?” He asks, turning to face Combeferre, Feuilly and Courfeyrac.

“Sure,“ Feuilly says as Combeferre nods but Courfeyrac just shrugs and turns away from the conversation.

Enjolras and I walk into the back room of the Musain together, me with a basket filled with sewing tools and half-finished rosettes. When we enter everyone is already there, waiting on us and they all turn to look at my brother and I.

“Sorry we’re late. Y/N had to pick up some more fabric,“ 

“For the rosettes that you asked me to make,“ I point out and Enjolras just shoves me, shooting me a smile.

I smile back and take a seat between Bahorel and Courfeyrac.

“Hey,“ I greet them both and Bahorel responds with his usual happy ‘good afternoon‘, whereas Courfeyrac just gives me a stiff nod and stands up, walking over to Combeferre and engaging him in conversation. Combeferre shoots me a confused look over his head and I just shrug and look down at my lap, a slight frown on my face.

I pick up my sewing needle and sigh, threading it a little sadly.

“Wanna hand?“ Feuilly asks, sitting down in the seat that Courfeyrac had just vacated.

“Do you know how to sew?“ I ask, the corner of my mouth tugging up into a slight smile.

“I mean how hard can it be?“ He asks, picking up one of the half-sewn rosettes. I cock an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. “You look a lot like your brother like that,” he informs me with a cheeky smile.

“Feuilly and I can just help cut up the fabric,“ Bahorel cuts in, taking the ream of deep blue fabric from my basket along with a sharp pair of scissors. 

“Yeah, that’s probably safer for everyone,“ I agree, taking the rosette from Feuilly and giving him the white fabric and he sticks his tongue out at me.

Enjolras and I walk quickly down the street.

“You gotta stay safe this time, Y/N/N, the guys get seriously worried every time you come to one of these things,“ Enjolras says as we get closer to the rally.

“That’s why Bahorel taught me to fight,“ I tell him and he just sighs at me, exasperated.

“You’re annoying,“

“Runs in the family, Enji,“ 

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in ages!“ Gavroche’s little voice pipes up as he runs in front of Enjolras and I on the street.

“Gav!“ I grin and he hugs my waist. “You need a place to stay tonight? Enjolras can sleep on the floor,”

“Really?”

“Anything for our favourite little gamin,” I tell him and he grabs my hand as the three of us walk.

“Thanks for just renting out my bed, Y/N/N,”

“I didn’t rent it out. If I rented it, we’d be paid. I’m just giving it away. It’s not like you sleep anyway,” Enjolras rolls his eyes at me and seems to spot Combeferre in the crowd of people.

“Hey, Gav, you’ll look after Y/N right?” He says distractedly and Gavroche nods delightedly, pulling me by the hand through the masses of people around us. 

He finds Courfeyrac, who’s holding a wad of fliers, and starts to tug at his jacket. “Hey Gav,” he chirps, without even looking at the kid, but there’s already a grin on his face.

“Hey Courf! We can rally with you, right?“ He says, grinning up at the man.

“Ye-“ Courfeyrac turns around and cuts himself off, “Y/N,“ he says, giving me a stiff nod.

“Hi Courfeyrac,“ I reply, smiling unsurely.

“We can, right?“ Gavroche interrupts but Courfeyrac shakes his head.

“Not today, Gav, I need to hand out fliers today,“ Courfeyrac says and his face drops a little at Gavroche’s disappointed expression.

“Oh, okay,“

“C’mon, Gav, lets go and find the others,“ I say, placing my hand gently on his head.

“I saw Bahorel earlier! He wasn’t doing anything!“ And he starts running through the crowds again, dragging me along behind him.

I stretch for the book at the top shelf but my fingers can only just brush the spine before I have to fall back onto the flat of my feet. I sigh and put my hands on my hips, looking up at the book. I look down the aisle and see Courfeyrac reading a book in his hands.

I walk over tentatively and touch his shoulder. He whips around in surprise.

“Y/N?“ He questions and I smile brightly at him.

“That’s my name! Hey, I can’t reach a book, could you get it down for me?“ I ask and Courfeyrac studies my face for a moment.

“Sorry. I’m kind of busy right now,“ he tells me, holding up his book. “Go and find Ferre or Enj. They’ll help.“

“Oh... okay then,“ I say, slightly put out. I feel my shoulders slump in defeat as I trail down the isle to find the other two guys I had come to the library with.

As I was looking down at the floor, I wasn’t looking where I was going and bumped into someone. I looked up into the grinning face of Bahorel.

“What are you doing here?“ I ask the guy, feeling my smile return to my face at just the sight of this brother-like figure.

“Well, I believe that you tend to come to the library to find books, or am I in the wrong place?“ He asks rhetorically and I slap his arm lightly.

“Well, since I found you, can you get a book down for me?“ I ask and he laughs.

“Aw, you’re so short,“ he coos, slinging his arm around me as I lead him towards the bookcase. “Why didn’t you just ask Courf?“ He asks, nodding towards the man who was still stood in the same place.

“I did. He said no,“ Bahorel fetches my book, a frown on his face.

“Did he give a reason?“

“Said he was busy,“

“WHY DOES HE HATE ME?“ I shout at my brother, feeling angry tears come to my eyes in frustration. The meeting had just ended and all the guys had left with the exception of Enjolras who was watching me in sympathy as I fought off tears.

“He doesn’t hate you, Y/N/N,“ Enjolras says, half standing from his seat.

“Then why does he constantly blow me off, do you notice his immediate mood change whenever I walk into a room?“ I ask him, tugging at my hair. “What did I do, Enji?“ I ask, my voice cracks and the tears slip over.

“You did nothing,“ he tells me and he strides over, hugging me tightly into his chest as I cry. He brushes the tangles out of my loose hair and rocks me backwards and forwards.

“I don’t want Courfeyrac to hate me,“ I say sniffling.

“I don’t hate you,“ I turn and look at the curly haired boy who’s standing in the doorway in a mild state of shock.

“Could’ve fooled me,“ I force a laugh at the boy who flinches a little.

“Give him a chance to speak, Y/N,“ Enjolras says, “I’ll be downstairs, okay?“ He edges past the two of us and leaves the room.

“I don’t hate you,“ Courfeyrac repeats his statement from earlier.

“Then why did you keep on blowing me off? Leaving when I sat down at tables? Refusing to take down a book? Like, c’mon, Courfeyrac, stop pretending.“ I plead, pressing a hand to my eyes in an attempt to stop my tears again.

“I just-” He stops himself from completing his sentence and runs his hand through his curly brown hair in distress. 

“You just what?“ I ask and he looks up to meet my tear-filled eyes.

“I just, I really like you, okay?“ He says and I stare at him, stricken. 

“You what?“ I whisper and he takes a tentative step forwards, giving a half smile.

“I really like you, but you’re Enjolras’ sister and I didn’t know what to do,“

“Didn’t it ever occur to you that I could like you back?“ I ask him, stepping towards him. Courfeyrac smiles a little, reaching his hand forward to wipe away a stray tear.

“Enjolras would kill me,“ he tells me and I shrug.

“When have either of us cared about what Enj thinks?“ I ask him, a smile growing on my face. He laughs and shakes his head.

“You’re ridiculous,“ he tells me, pulling me closer.

“You really couldn’t have thought of a worse way of telling me though,“ I tell him, putting my arms loosely around his waist.

“I was just scared that you’d reject me or Enjolras would kill me or both,“ Courfeyrac admits and I smile at him.

“You’re cute,“ I tell him and he leans down to kiss my nose.

Before he can go back up I tangle my hands in his curly hair and pull him down to make his lips meet mine. 

“I think you missed,“ I tell him as we pull away to breathe and he starts to chuckle at me, kissing me again.

I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY AGAIN, I HAD TO REWRITE IT BECAUSE IT DELETED

[softschofield]

I LOVE YOUR HEADCANONS they give me life also i hope i'm not too weirdly embarrassing in my tags BUT, i'm just curious, any thoughts on jos slovick's character (the soldier who sang poor wayfaring stranger), headcanon or canon-wise? ILY!! ♡♡♡

alisdbaogisdlgb i LIVE for your tags, they literally make me BEAM you’re such a sweetheart ilysm ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡  omg and you’re really out here completely pandering to me, this question is so lovely aisudgiuavda 

okay, well!

canon-wise? i can’t really tell you much (it’s classified) - but based on his lack of rank insignia, he’s a private, and we know he’s in D company of the 2nd battalion of the devonshire regiment. i feel that i can reliably place him as being from the south of england, going by his accent? london? we’ll say london. but he certainly doesn’t sound cockney, so... i’ll get to that later.

he also seems to be one of the few soldiers in the film who isn’t wearing a sweater under his uniform - yes, it’s fashion hours. he also isn’t wearing mittens, but he IS wearing a scarf, though honestly?? it seems like it’s of much worse quality than rossi and kilgour’s scarves, and certainly of worse quality than scho’s properly knitted and probably hand-made one. it looks thin and cheap. no family to send him warm clothes? 

the script also mentions that his voice is “untrained”, so his family clearly didn’t send him to lessons or to be a choir boy despite the fact he sounds lovely. what am i getting at? he’s poor and either has a bad relationship with his family, or hasn’t got one at all. is that a ridiculous assumption to make based on clothes? MAYBE SO. maybe so. but i’m making it. MWAH

head-canon wise? well CLEARLY he’s soft. he comes from a tiny tenement flat in a rough part of inner-city london, one that makes cooke’s upbringing look luxurious. as a child, despite all the grey lifelessness and violence of the city around him, he clung to his belief that the world was beautiful - and singing became a part of that. he’d go by himself to the pretty parks in the posher neighbourhoods whenever he could, and he’d sing for pennies. he sang quietly to himself at night, and he sang as he walked, and whenever he found a rare flowering bush or a blossoming tree, he’d pick some of the flowers and hide them under his coat and put them in his bedroom where his father wouldn’t see. 

his mother wasn’t from london - she’d married beneath her station - and she went to great pains to see that her son wouldn’t end up with a lower class accent. it’s one of his few gentle memories of his childhood. 

after both his parents died of illness, he went to live with his grandparents in the country outside london. his life there was a beautiful one - meadows and forests and streams and gardens, and his little bedroom at golden hour, and birdsong, and the lace doilies on the kitchen table - and, quietly, he blossomed. he sang in the open, and he sang for his grandparents, and he was happy. he was free. the air was fresh and the world was flowering and green - and he could smile without fear. 

when the war started, he was hopeful and naïve and happy and a hopeless believer in the good in people, and he hopped off to enlist with a smile on his face. he wanted to do the right thing. he was underage, but that didn’t matter; they signed him up readily enough, and though his grandparents wept for him, he left, and was happy for it. he was only sixteen. 

for the first two years, he didn’t dare let on that he liked to sing - that he liked to sing high and sweet and whimsical, not just drunken pub ditties. he’d always known that he was pretty and slight, and he knew what would happen if a bunch of soldiers labelled him the wrong thing. 

the war dragged on, and he endured trauma upon trauma, and still he sang. at first, it was just for himself. he’d sing during shellings, with his hands over his ears so he could hear himself and his knees drawn up against his chest and his mouth against his scarf and his voice choked and half-sobbing. he’d whisper songs to himself while everyone else slept around him. the night before the opening day of the somme was the first time he sang for soldiers. everyone was silent, and everyone was terrified, and no one could say a word - no one could move a muscle. they were packed in too close to breathe. 

and so, he sang. quietly and gently. and no one spoke; they just listened. they listened, and for an hour their fear faded away, and they were back home, and the somme wouldn’t happen, and they were safe and at peace.

after that, for the few that survived, it became a tradition. before every big battle, he’d sing. and then, eventually, it wasn’t just for battles - it was because it was a calming influence, it was a point of beauty and softness and life amid all that horror, and they all grew to love him for it. he became their little beacon of hope.

and- thanks i love him now 

also he’s gay x 

[asexual-juliet]

i am convinced that at least a third of the barricade boys you motherfuckers are always talking about don’t really exist. who the fuck is joly? bosseut? jehan? whomst?

[asexual-juliet]

happy second anniversary to this post i still can’t fucking believe that bosseut and lesgles are the same person

the barricade boys and how many things i know about them

(i have performed in one production of les mis and read a good not-quite regrettable amount of fic)

Enjolras - pretty boy…. pretty boy….. - played by a very pretty boy in my production. i have a big dumb crush on him. - a slut for revolution - gets compared to apollo a lot. y’all saw one pretty blond boy and knew exactly the comparison that would make everyone go fucking buckwild.

Grantaire - literally died holding enjolras’ hand, fuck me UP - grantaire put the bottle down - is drunk like 98% of the time - is ugly - doesn’t give a shit about revolution, just thinks enjolras is pretty (he’s right)

Marius - soft boy - certified dumbass - a simp for cosette - he likes napoleon maybe and the rest of the boys are not fans of that

Gavroche - baby boy!! that’s baby…. that’s…. that’s baby….. baby boy. baby baby boy - i can’t fucking believe he died

Combeferre - oh boy here’s where i start not knowing who they are - uhhh he’s a doctor maybe?? - he has a solo right after eponine dies - he might be best friends with courfeyrac and enjolras and they might be called  “the triumvirate” but that might just be something you motherfuckers mad up in like 2013 - he has glasses

Courfeyrac - gets shot in the shoulder like a dumbass - i only know that because in my production i was assigned to bandage his wounds and kid playing courfeyrac was not working with me - not to be a salty bitch but i deserved this part i think - i think people ship him with combeferre. idk but if they do it’s cause their names sound the same - he, combeferre, and enjolras are roommates in a shit-ton of modern au fics

Feuilly - has a big-ass solo in do you hear the people sing - has the best line in the entire fucking song (”the blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of france”) - has the first line in drink with me - says “SNIPERS!!” when the snipers shoot - idk my little brother played feuilly and i spent most of the time he did being a jealous little bitch

Jean Prouvaire - until like five minutes ago i thought he and jehan were different people but i was looking up the names of the barricade boys because i didn’t think i could name them all. turns out he just has two names.

Lesgles - has three lines - doesn’t do shit

Bosseut - is either named bosseut or bossuet but i don’t really care which one - has a mistress named musichetta. i only knew this because yesterday i was finally like “ok who the fuck is musichetta” and i googled her.

Joly - he might be a doctor too??? - musichetta is his mistress too and so everyone said poly rights and decided to ship bosseut/musichetta/joly

Bahorel - who the fuck is bahorel

[mirrorspell]

hey does anybody write j/b/m/r fics and not post them to ao3 because I'm need them!!