another hundred people

do u hear the people sing?

[aliveandfullofjoy]

“the ad-dressing of the cats” in cats: the jellicle ball really bears the weight of the ballroom concept in such fascinating ways. old deuteronomy is like “you must always, always, always call us by our names!” and you think “this is beautiful, this is a dramaturgical miracle, i can’t believe t. s. eliot wasn’t actually writing about trans people,” and then old deuteronomy is like “and also?? feed us salmon :)” and you think “?”

[the-reynolds-pamphlet]

idk why les amis always just stand there when they appear as ghosts during empty chairs and empty tables. if i directed les mis, i would have them redo their blocking during red and black & dyhtps in slow motion throughout the song, with marius standing still away from the rest of them. grantaire would do a shortened and silent version of his "i am agog, i am aghast" bit and marius would stare straight ahead, unseeing and unhearing. there would be several actions (like raising fists, clapping, etc.) from earlier that the audience would recognize as being a repeat. they would all be in half-shadow up or center stage, while marius stands under the spotlight downstage. when they all exit near the end, they'd run offstage the exact same way as the end of do you hear the people sing, but into the shadows instead of lights. this would happen as marius sings "and they rose with voices singing / and i can hear them now", with the next lines "the very words that they had sung / became their last communion" being said when he's completely alone again and the spot les amis were in is in complete darkness. either that, or they end the scene in a tableau of positions similar to their deaths at the barricades, sprawled or leaning over the tables and chairs while still talking to each other, with the spotlights slowly fading them out.

[little-linda]

Send this to westend

[ladylylla]

I’ve had cabaret on my mind alot lately, no matter how old this musical gets it still stays so, so relevant…

[piningsiskin]

happy barricade day! i can’t believe all those silly school boys got to finish their educations and go on to live long and successful lives! ☺️

[cx-shhhh]

Today is 24601. Happy pride month.

[aromantic-enjolras]

OH MY GOD???

[infinite-mirrors]

late nights at the Musain

[protectionsquad24601]

Og clickbait

[shamedumpster]

Liquid Courage

[heyjehan]

just saw sweeney todd on bway… aaron tveit you are so fine

[calamitys-child]

Just rediscovered potentially the funniest thing I’ve written in recent memory

[calamitys-child]

Imagine if people wrote all their Les Mis modern aus in the style of Victor Hugo

[calamitys-child]

An excerpt

[dykeionysus]

“but the e/R stage kiss is fanservice, it’s not in the brick, it deviates from the plot—” okay so is ‘bring him home’. next. “bring him peace bring him joy” “he’s like the son i might have known” brick jvj thought himself incapable of hatred until he was faced with marius pontmercy. years of intentionally living a life of love and peace evaporated at the sight of marius’s face. let the faggots kiss

[idiopath-fic-smile]

ficlet: W.A.R!Enjolras's birthday party

roughly a bajillion years ago, i said i'd write donation fics for people who gave to abortion related causes. i flagged out about halfway through but i'm back, baby, and i'm determined to fill those requests.

this is for @sharki-leftishark, who was curious to see a birthday celebration in the W.A.R universe, either enjolras or grantaire. so today i bring to you enjolras's birthday, following the events of W.A.R. i never did figure out the month in which this story takes place, so please feel free to mentally set it whenever your own zodiac headcanons dictate.

ETA: and many thanks to @consultingreaders and @give-me-a-minute-to-think for the speedy and helpful beta!

Senior year

Maybe three-quarters of the way through opening the presents, Grantaire realizes that Enjolras is saving Grantaire’s gift for last. Enjolras tosses aside the paper from the hardbound journal that Marius got him, thanks Marius with real earnestness even though it’s the third variation of a notebook he’s received today, starts to reach for Grantaire’s sloppily wrapped bundle, sees the tag, and then his hands stutter instead toward a shiny package that turns out to be from Joly.

The package contains some sort of board game. Courfeyrac insists that the game is “Risk in space, it is so clearly Risk in space—we’ve been over this, people. Enjolras is not allowed within ten yards of a pretend army, remember? We voted?” and then Joly waves his cane at Courfeyrac, shouting, “People change! Also it’s a cooperative game, we’d be harnessing the laser eyes for the power of friendship and community!” and a lively debate ensues.

Grantaire follows some of it. He’s mostly trying not to think about how Enjolras, who believes in self-discipline and delayed gratification and all that shit, apparently considers Grantaire’s contribution to be the grand finale of this whole experience. Enjolras, who loves his friends so much. It’s heady to consider: the height of Enjolras’s expectations and the chance of maybe not meeting them, a quick swoosh up and then down. Not that Enjolras would ever be a dick about it or anything, but they’ve been dating, for-real dating, for months now, and if Enjolras doesn’t love the present, Grantaire will probably know.

After a lifetime, the presents-opening resumes. Feuilly has set up an appointment for Enjolras to interview a real-life union leader. Combeferre contributes a tidy set of books by someone named bell hooks. Courfeyrac’s offering is a gift certificate to the impossibly cool indie movie theater two towns over as well as a bubble gun blower, which immediately sparks off another round of debate.

(“Oh, so fictitious simulated pretend armies are verboten, but you get him a firearm?” Joly manages between laughs.

“One that shoots soap bubbles, you maniac!” Courfeyrac shoots back.

“At least it would be a clean kill,” muses Combeferre, and Eponine’s eye roll would be slightly more convincing if they hadn’t clearly slipped away during the division of the birthday cake to make out.)

And then, well. And then it’s Grantaire’s turn. To see his present opened, not to sneak off to swap spit with his boyfriend, which come to think of it sounds infinitely better, and not just because Enjolras’s dedication to self-improvement extends to learning how to kiss Grantaire to the point of incoherence in under five minutes.

Enjolras unwraps the paper carefully and shakes out the fabric. It’s a T-shirt, emblazoned with the words “ENJOLRAS 2024: ARE YOU BRAVE ENOUGH TO CHANGE THE WORLD?”

“For the campaign,” says Grantaire. “I did the math and that’s the first year you can run for president.”

“You need to be thirty-five,” says Enjolras. A smile is flickering at the corner of his mouth.

“I know,” Grantaire tells him. “I looked it up because I had to know the first year I could vote for you. I cracked open my Government textbook for you, so like. Feel honored.”

“We had Government last year,” Enjolras seems to feel compelled to point out. “When did you—”

Grantaire can feel his face burning. He’s not even sure why, really. “Last March,” he says.

“When you first started pretending to date,” Musichetta fills in with relish. Now that it’s public knowledge among their friends, she brings it up whenever she can.

“I thought you were maybe out of your mind,” says Grantaire, “but like. I don’t know. You’re clearly gonna be somebody. And, uh. You had my vote. And still do, obviously.”

Enjolras is turning a little red too. “You should probably see what the other candidates’ positions are before you make that call,” he mumbles.

Grantaire’s heart soars. He shakes his head. “No way, I’m a single-issue voter and my one issue is ‘how much is this guy like Enjolras?’”

Enjolras ducks his head. He lays the T-shirt down carefully, next to the pile of books and notebooks. He opens his arms. Enjolras, who, now that the dating is real, isn’t really about public displays of affection.

“This is so sweet I think I’m going to actually throw up,” says Eponine as Grantaire steps into the hug. He squeezes hard. Enjolras squeezes harder.

“I like you so much,” Enjolras murmurs into the side of his face. “Also, you’re the one who’s out of your mind, nobody just runs for president—”

“Sure,” says Grantaire, “You gotta be twenty-five to run for House of Reps, so 2014’s the first year you’d be eligible. Now, U.S. Senate, you need to be thirty, so you can run in 2018, when it just so happens a seat will be open—”

Enjolras kisses him on the mouth.

[heyjehan]

i’ll be working on broadway :) its not as an acting role or anything fancy but i’m still really excited! if u told like 15-16 year old me when i started this blog that i would actually work on broadway in any capacity i prob wouldnt have believed you

[firesidebi]

Mentally I am here:

[clarisinne]

LMAO DO Y'ALL REMEMBER THIS SHIT

[clarisinne]

les misérables 2012 has definitely committed many war crimes but it is redeemed by unintentionally being one of the gayest adaptations of all time like tom hooper cast the cuntiest twink enjolras the most soul crushing yearning grantaire the most pathetic gay javert but he intended NONE Of it

[marbleluvrofliberty]

reading enjolras and grantaire’s character descriptions back to back is the funniest thing a girl can do