guys i can’t wait to find out about their surprise it’s gonna be so awesome and cool guys

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seen from Sweden

seen from Sweden

seen from Malaysia

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guys i can’t wait to find out about their surprise it’s gonna be so awesome and cool guys
fantine in 1817?
fantine + the 1817 girls !
Goodness and philosophy are two distinct things; the proof of this is that, after making all due allowances for these little irregular households, Favourite, Zephine, and Dahlia were philosophical young women, while Fantine was a good girl. - Vol. 1, Book 3, Chapter 2.
Good Traits may not lead to the bad person. But still though, too naive one can harm you.
Barricade Day Advent Calendar
Day 8: Dahlia, Favourite and Zephine
or as I call them, the Powerpuff Girls
i desperately want to read an 80s fantine fic….lmk if anyone has any recs
LES MIS LETTERS IN ADAPTATION - A Chapter In Which They Adore Each Other , LM 1.3.6 ( I miserabili 1964)
Dahlia, as she ate, said in a low voice to Favourite, amid the uproar:—
“So you really idolize him deeply, that Blachevelle of yours?”
“I? I detest him,” replied Favourite in the same tone, seizing her fork again. “He is avaricious. I love the little fellow opposite me in my house. He is very nice, that young man; do you know him? One can see that he is an actor by profession. I love actors. As soon as he comes in, his mother says to him: ‘Ah! mon Dieu! my peace of mind is gone. There he goes with his shouting. But, my dear, you are splitting my head!’ So he goes up to rat-ridden garrets, to black holes, as high as he can mount, and there he sets to singing, declaiming, how do I know what? so that he can be heard downstairs! He earns twenty sous a day at an attorney’s by penning quibbles. He is the son of a former precentor of Saint-Jacques-du-Haut-Pas. Ah! he is very nice. He idolizes me so, that one day when he saw me making batter for some pancakes, he said to me: ‘Mamselle, make your gloves into fritters, and I will eat them.’ It is only artists who can say such things as that. Ah! he is very nice. I am in a fair way to go out of my head over that little fellow. Never mind; I tell Blachevelle that I adore him—how I lie! Hey! How I do lie!”
All four were ravishingly beautiful. A good old classic poet, then renowned, a good man who had an Eleanore, the Chevalier de Labouisse, who was walking that day under the chestnut trees of Saint-Cloud, saw them pass by about ten in the morning and exclaimed, with the Graces in mind, “One too many!”
Sketches and a WIP