Okay But Instead Of Coffeeshop Aus

LES MIS RULE 63 Gina Torres as Inspector Javert

Some police officers have a peculiar expression, combining an air of meanness with an air of authority. Javert had this, without the meanness. 

The peasants of the Asturias believe that in every litter of wolves there is one pup that is killed by the mother for fear that on growing up it would devour the other little ones.

Give a human face to this wolf’s whelp, and you have Javert.

Javert was born in a prison. Her mother was a fortune-teller whose husband was in the galleys. She grew up thinking herself outside of society, and despaired of ever entering it. She noticed that society irrevocably closes its doors on two classes of people, those who attack it and those who guard it; she could choose between these two classes only; at the same time she felt that she had a powerful foundation of rectitude, order, and honesty based on an irrepressible hatred for that race to which she belonged. She entered the police. She succeeded. At forty she was an inspector.

Her face consisted of a regal nose, broad cheekbones, and deep brown eyes. One felt ill at ease on first seeing her thick eyebrows and strongly defined nose and lips. When she laughed, which was rarely and terribly, her voluptuous lips parted, showing her teeth. When she laughed, Javert was a tiger; strange, majestic, terrifying. Beyond that, she had an oval face, a square jaw, thick black hair that fell over her shoulders, between the eyes a permanent central crease like an angry star, a gloomy look, and an air of fierce command.

Me: *Goes through ao3 tag*

Me: *Reaches the end*

Me: *Goes through ao3 tag with lower standards*

*random quote about staring at the sun*

We have said that Fantine was joy; she was also modesty.

Les Miserables AU || Modern || Joly & Jehan

Your beauty overwhelms me As I wrap my arms around you I press your softness tight Great passion fills my inner being I’m captured in your embrace Your eyes control my very soul The touch of your lips, heaven Forever frozen in time All else fades into nothing

Marius: *falls in love with Cosette*

Valjean: sir that’s my emotional support daughter

Marius:

...

I

thank you

I aten’t dead!

messy der Tod from Elisabeth das musical, because I can’t get this out of my head.

Just Around the Riverbend

They could have played it safe. They could have stayed silent, they could have gone on with their lives. They'd been born to comfortable families, most of them; been born to privilege; been born to ease and relative wealth.

But what's the point of living without excitement, without something to live for?

Enjolras was a firebrand, a firework, and he was the one who pushed them to look around and dream, to see things in their minds' eye that weren't yet real, to choose what is right instead of what is simply easy.

To see the Republic, just around the corner, so long as they still fought the status quo.

Gavroche had taken to hanging around the Friends of the ABC during their meetings, getting underfoot and being helpful or a nuisance or both, arguing with Enjolras, admiring Bahorel, delivering messages and cockades, being a snarky brat.

And falling asleep on Joly.

It was something that had happened often enough that the others joked about Joly being an especially good pillow, to which Bossuet would reply that indeed he was, to which Joly would reply with a whack of the arm and a blush.