#lady!amis

[claqueseuss-blog]

Les Misérables Theatre AU - Character Profiles.

Lady!Combeferre

Combeferre completes the off stage trio acting as production/stage manager. She is determined and incredibly dependable when it comes to staging a show. In cohorts with Enjolras and Courfeyrac she creates the aesthetic on stage. There are a million and one things that Combeferre does and no-one is quite sure how she manages it all. She sources all of their material, oversees the design of the stage, completes all necessary safety forms, as well as dealing with all the marketing of the show. Combeferre creates posters and programmes and hands out flyers all over campus. Enjolras is ever grateful for her support during the process. But the truth is Combeferre loves it, she loves being able to organise everything, she loves being busy. If there is enough time on her hands and other jobs are sorted, one of Combeferre’s favourite things is to help make the props for the show. She’ll join Grantaire, Eponine and indeed anyone who is willing to help and watch her designs come to life.

Strengths:

Combeferre is thoroughly detailed in everything she does. To her there is no point doing only half a job. She researches everything and tries to be as accurate as possible. 

Weaknesses:

Though she seems to be invincible, she does have the ability to overwork herself. In fact, when a show is finished she often spends a week or so very ill.

{This headcanon comes as part of the Les Misérables Theatre AU I am creating. You can find all completed character headcanons here. I’m currently creating a fic/one shot around this AU and will be posting a link through my Tumblr when this is completed, so feel free to watch out for that :)}

[grantairricade]

(you've got me into ready lady!amis things now) what about lady E/R and their first big fight (with making up afterwards though)

thank u anon, i’m into lady!amis 24/7 so now you know how it feeelssss argh

"You can’t fucking say those things, Grantaire," Enjolras is saying - no, hissing, and Grantaire is pacing back and forth, lighting up a cigarette and puffing angrily at it. They’re outside the Musain after the meeting, the last ones there, as usual.

Grantaire laughs mirthlessly. “I can if you’re full of shit, Artemis,” she says, exhaling smoke with every word. “And you can’t pretend that I’m bullshitting, or that what I say is worthless, like you do every single fucking time.”

Enjolras whirls around, hair flying around her face. She’s worn it down tonight, and wishes she’d put it up. She looks fiercer that way, less like a child and more like the adult she knows herself to be. “You know I don’t do that, R.”

"Yes, you do. Constantly. Fucks a girl up after a while, honestly.” Enjolras slows down, looking Grantaire in the eye.

"I - you know I listen to you, Grantaire, I just - you help me see my mistakes and it’s hard to accept that I make them sometimes." She picks at her thumbnail, a nervous habit that carried over from childhood.

Grantaire looks up at her, taking a drag from her cigarette. “Yeah, fine. It just feels shitty and I wish to God you realised when you were doing it.” She shakes her head, running her hand through her too-long hair. “Fuck,” she breathes. “Why does this hurt more now that we’re, you know,” she gestures between them, “a thing?”

Enjolras steps closer to Grantaire, as hesitantly as she would were Grantaire an animal. “R,” she begins, then bites her lip. She steps forward decisively and lifts Grantaire’s chin, kissing her in an effort to communicate what she means, that she’s sorry and that she’ll try harder and that she loves Grantaire - though she wouldn’t say that, not now, not since they were so new.

They break apart and Grantaire’s lips are shining, her eyes looking happier than before. “I get it, Enj. Come on,” she says, and kisses Enjolras again, hands winding around her smaller waist and bunching in the smooth cotton of the tee Enjolras is wearing. “Let’s go back to yours?”

Enjolras nods, tapping her nose against Grantaire’s cheek. They walk back to her apartment hand in hand, trading kisses like apologies, Grantaire’s smiles reaching her eyes and Enjolras’s heart feeling warmer with every touch.

[grantairricade]

do you still want lady!amis prompts because how about fem!E and fem!R and lazy sunday mornings

heck yes i still want lady!amis prompts! thanks friend. here you go.

Enjolras is eternally grateful that she never has to do anything on Sunday mornings. It’s her mandated day off (thanks to Combeferre, who had one day pushed her glasses up her nose, squared her jaw and declared that Enjolras needed at least one day off, for Christ’s sake) and she’s learned in the past few months that it is entirely possible to stay in bed until noon. And then she and Grantaire got together, and noon was pushed back to three p.m., an extended morning where they chased the sunlight across the duvet and read the entire paper, section by glorious section.

This morning, however, Enjolras wakes up to an empty bed. Her hand reaches out to the place where Grantaire usually is, dark hair flung across the pillows, but her side of the bed is cold and empty. Enjolras frowns at the space for a moment and grabs her phone, opening up her messages and, oh, Grantaire has texted her.

from: R (10:15am) :buying bagels, be back in ten, don’t you dare trying to move because, damn xxxxx

Enjolras checks the time. It’s 10:30, which means Grantaire should be back by now. She sends off a quick reply:

to: R (10:31am) :Come back, the bed is cold and I miss you. x

She lies in bed for a languid moment, idly braiding a lock of her hair, looking at the strands glowing golden in the sunlight until the door of the apartment opens, followed shortly by Grantaire throwing herself onto the bed, dark curls flying around her face as she bends down to kiss Enjolras soundly on the mouth. Enjolras is slightly disappointed that Grantaire put clothes on to go get breakfast, but her disappointment is tempered by the smell of fresh bagels wafting from the paper bag in Grantaire’s hand.

Enjolras sits up, the sheet around her slipping off. She doesn’t miss the way Grantaire’s eyes flicker to her chest, and Enjolras smiles coyly.

"So, we could have bagels now, or…. we could have them later and do something else instead," she suggests. Grantaire pretends to look thoughtful, even as her hands go to the hem of her top. "I could do with working up an appetite," Grantaire muses, and Enjolras’s grin turns predatory as she puts the paper bag on the table next to their bed.

Grantaire laughs as they both work to undress her, and then her laughter is swallowed by kisses. The bagels have gone completely cold by the time they get around to eating them, but they both agree that it was totally worth it in the end.