#bootsssss

[waltj]

thank you to whoever styled him for that event and if it was actually him nvm and fix ur belt

[tomoyoo]

nuncore choirboycore etc

[giverofempathy]

watching downton abbey & i wish i could punch most of these people in their face

[ectopawsm]

PAW BOOTSSSSS

[bishopmyrielfundraiser]

Bishop Myriel Fundraiser 2023 masterpost

to be added to as more offers are submitted Rules 1. 3 cross stitch Christmas card slots and 1 bookmark -- @warrioreowynofrohan

2. 1500-2000 word fic, 1 slot -- @kjack89

3. Les Misérables-based poems, 10 slots --@granhairdo 4. historical romance fic, 1 slot -- @badassindistress 5. 1 case-bound journal or fic -- @pandamomentum

6. 1 drawing of a Les Mis character-- @labrador-tea

7. 1 illustration of a character, any fandom -- @genderfeel

8. 1 illustration for Les Mis or The Hobbit/LOTR in regular, stained glass, or cat style --@secretmellowblog

9. 1 illustration for Les Mis or Les Mis fanfic -- @grack-attack/@commongrackle

10. 1 custom translation in English of up to about 1000 words from any Victor Hugo work-- @thearrogantemu 11. 2 slots for custom embroidered patches-- @fructidors 12. 2 slots for digital art profile pictures/icons -- @bootsssss

13. 1 set of zines for The Hobbit webcomic --@secretmellowblog/@retellingthehobbit

14. 5 slots of linocut prints in custom colors saying "Trans joy will overcome transphobic hatred" -- @quillsand/@thelawsofdaylight

15. 1 custom lino print featuring a sentence/phrase of your choice -- @quillsand/@thelawsofdaylight 16. 1 pack of Enjolras-themed art prints and keychain--@syrupsyche/@erosyrup

[raspberrycatapult]

I'm super excited to say that I've taken part in the @mlbigbang for the first time this (well, technically last) year!

The first chapter of Outback Camp will be posted on the 13th of Jan and updated every week!

Massive thanks to my amazing beta @uptoolateart, and to the awesome @cardiac-agreste and @wehadabondingmoment for their support! And to my artists, @bootsssss and @supergirl9130, for their lovely art!!

Synopsis

It was official. Marinette was going to die. There was no way she was going to survive this camp – let alone manage to confess. Forget crazy Australian wildlife – how could she make it through alive with Adrien?

Marinette, Adrien and their classmates go on a 10-day school camp to the Central Australian desert. Uluru (Ayers Rock), Alice Springs, Kings Canyon, Coober Pedy and more!

For Marinette, it’s the perfect chance to confess to Adrien…if only she can muster up the courage. Adrien, meanwhile, is beginning to realise just how special Marinette is to him.

Featuring lots of Adrinette, fun experiences, class shenanigans, and an identity reveal!

Snippet

The sound of the tent flap zipping open sent Marinette's heart into overdrive. Please be Alya, please be Alya, please be –

‘Hey, Marinette,’ a soft voice whispered.

Adrien poked his head through the flap, and then the rest of his body, awkwardly stepping into the tent, phone torch pointed to the ground. The tents were large, tall enough for her to be able to comfortably stand up straight. But it wasn’t quite the same story for Adrien. In his attempt to avoid the ceiling, he ended up banging his head against the metal pole in the centre.

‘Argh!’ he yelped, dropping his phone.

‘Are you okay!?’ Marinette blurted out, eyes wide as she watched Adrien’s dark figure crouch down and begin fumbling around for his phone. His hand landed on her leg, and she let out a squeak.

‘S-sorry!’ Adrien stammered, his hand jerking back. ‘I thought it was my – sorry!’

He seemed to find his phone, then, because a beam of light shone on his side of the tent. Marinette lay there, her heart hammering, the place where Adrien had touched her burning as though his hand was still there, even though she had pyjamas and a layer of sleeping bag protecting her.

Adrien had gone silent. She didn’t know what to do. Did she say something? Did she say goodnight? Where they just going to lie there, in silence, until they fell asleep?

‘Oh no,’ Adrien whispered.

Marinette’s heart leaped into her throat at those words. ‘What – what is it?’ she croaked out.

‘I…I sort of…um….’ He swallowed. ‘…forgot my sleeping bag?’

She stared. ‘You…forgot your sleeping bag…?’

Okay. That was fine. It was fine. He could just go get it from the boys’ tent.

‘Yep.’ He shifted. ‘Um…in Adelaide?’

WHAT.

She sat up. ‘What do you mean in Adelaide.’

‘I – I’m not used to having one! I’ve never used one before! I didn’t need one in Coober Pedy and I guess I just – I must have left it there in the morning – but it’s fine! I’ll just have to buy one…tomorrow.’

Marinette sat there, unable to make out more than Adrien’s vague outline in the dark, partially illuminated by the glow of his phone in his hand. ‘What about now?’ she said. ‘It’s – it’s cold!’

‘That’s – it’s fine,’ Adrien said. ‘Really, Marinette, I just –’

‘You can sleep with me!’ she blurted out before she could think about what she was suggesting.

Adrien stared at her.

Heat exploded across her face as she realised what she’d just said. ‘I mean – not WITH ME! I mean YES with me! WITH MY SLEEPING BAG! I MEAN – IN MY SLEEPING BAG! You can share! My sleeping bag! With me! Do you want to share my sleeping bag with me!’

‘Um….’

Oh god, kill her now. Where was Chat when she needed him? She had half a mind to call him up and get him to Cataclysm her in the chest, even if it meant making him fly halfway across the world. She buried her face in her hands.

[mattspoetdepartment]

Also… the boots…. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

THE BOOTSSSSS

[inseparableduo]

@wickdcreatures replied to your post “rare munday photo under the cut! Just me trying...”:

YESSSS IM OBSESSED YOURE KILLING IT OMG

@illholy replied to your post “rare munday photo under the cut! Just me trying...”:

this is so perfect 🥰😍😍😍😍!!! I LOVE THE BOOTSSSSS!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

Oh my god thank you guys so much 😭😭😭!

[purrincess-chat]

Fashion Faux Paw CH3

It’s Monday! Which means it’s time for the next chapter of my BB story ^^ Next chapter will be up Wednesday and include the first art piece for this story by @bootsssss See you all then!

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

“Evening, m’lady. Miss me?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes at Chat Noir’s flirtatious lilt. He leaned in mere centimeters from her face with an impish grin, green eyes sparkling with their usual mischief. Pushing his nose away with a smirk, Ladybug cocked a hip.

“Kind of hard to miss you when you never leave me alone.” She slid open her bug phone, swiping through dozens of texts, selfies, and memes.

“I can’t help it. You’re always on my mind.” He leaned against his staff with a sigh. “I want it to feel like we’re always together, even when we’re apart.”

“I think I could stand to miss you more,” she said.

“Me-owch! Don’t you think about me at all when we’re not together?” he asked.

Ladybug flicked his bell with a smile. “I do miss that dorky grin of yours sometimes. The bad puns I could do without, though.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Though, I’ve been seeing a lot of you on the internet lately. You started helping that baker girl with her blog.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, buginette. It’s strictly purrfessional This cat only has eyes for you.” He kissed her hand. “But who knows? Maybe if her blog takes off, you’ll be seeing my face on every billboard in town. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

“More like a nightmare.” She teased. “But I’m sure your little fangirls would love it.”

“Don’t be jealous just because I have more fans than you,” Chat Noir said. “It’s only natural. Everyone knows cats rule the internet.”

“Speaking of the internet, you wanna tell me why #LadyNoir was trending the other day?” Ladybug quirked a brow.

“Oh, uh… I don’t know what that was about. LadyNoir? What’s that? A musical group? Anyway, I’ve never heard that term in my life!” Chat Noir backed away with a sheepish wince. “I think I hear distressed citizens in need of our help! We should probably get on with our patrol. Crime isn’t going to stop itself, ya know.”

Ladybug shook her head as he vaulted off. What was she going to do with that mischievous cat?

***

The following evening, Marinette hummed while putting the finishing touches on her latest design. Activity on her blog was still on the rise, so she was doing her best to keep up with demand. After all, Chat Noir was kind enough to help get her name out there. She didn’t want to waste the opportunity to show off her work to her new audience and risk losing everything.

“Knock, knock!” Alya called, sticking her head through the skylight.

Marinette rolled away from her sewing machine, tilting her head to the side. Her bff crawled down, followed by Chat Noir.

“We just got done filming a new video for my blog, and we thought we’d pop over,” Alya said.

“Alya gave me a lot of advice on how to sweep Ladybug off her feet, so I gave her a ride here.” Chat Noir fastened his baton back to his belt.

“Yeah, no offense, but I think I’ll walk next time. Traveling by staff is terrifying, and the wind is not nice to my hair.” Alya ran her fingers through her windblown curls. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I have a really good conditioner.” He shrugged. “And my hair is magic. I’m like a Disney Princess.”

“Don’t you mean Disney Prince?” Marinette asked.

“Uh, does Prince Charming have magic hair?” Chat Noir crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t think so.”

“Anyway, what do you have for Rapunzel to model tonight?” Alya asked.

“Actually, I’m running out of stuff he can wear over his suit,” Marinette said. “Everything I have left will just look clunky.”

“So, design some more stuff I can wear over it,” he said.

“Well…” Marinette pursed her lips, flicking her gaze to her most recent post pulled up on the computer monitor. “The point of getting you to model for me was to bring more attention to my blog. Now, it’s so popular, and I really want to show off more of my work.”

“Hmm.” Alya surveyed the shirt in Marinette’s sewing machine, drumming her fingers. “What if he wasn’t wearing the suit?”

“Alya, the suit’s made of magic. He can’t take it off,” Marinette said.

“Marinette’s right. It’s like a second skin. The zipper’s just for show.” Chat Noir tugged on it as proof.

“So, just change back to a civilian, and-”

“Are you crazy? He can’t detransform! We’ll find out his identity.” Marinette shook her head.

“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of an important secret for me to keep.” Chat Noir agreed.

“I’m not saying he has to reveal his identity!” Alya rolled her eyes. “What if you made him a black mask to wear along with the outfits? That way he can detransform to model the clothes properly while still keeping his secret identity.”

“That-” Marinette opened her mouth to protest but paused.

Pacing the length of her room, she chewed her nails. It was an option. If anything happened, he could always just transform again in an instant… What was she thinking? She couldn’t ask him to detransform! No, absolutely not. Out of the question! No way! No-

“That could work,” Chat Noir said.

“No!” Marinette blurted.

“Come on, M. There’s zero risk, and he’ll be able to model everything the way it’s supposed to be,” Alya said. “People are really into all of your Chat Noir posts. You can’t stop now. Trust me, girl, the internet is so fickle. If you stop posting pictures with him, your hit count is going to take a nosedive.”

Marinette rubbed her temple with a sigh. If Chat Noir was willing to do it, then she supposed there was no reason not to. Making a mask would only take a few minutes, and she did have quite a bit of black fabric…

Alya clapped when Marinette flopped back in her rolling chair and set to work. Although her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of Chat Noir detransforming in her room, she kept working, reminding herself that everything would be fine. It wasn’t like she was going to learn who he was, though she would have to keep Alya from peeking.

When the mask was complete, Chat Noir disappeared behind the folding screen, and green light briefly lit the room. Marinette chewed her nails while he changed, nearly calling the whole thing off twice. What kind of partner would she be if she discovered his identity on accident? Would she have to tell him she knew? How would she explain how she found out without revealing her own identity? Would it be right to keep her identity at that point? Why did she let Alya talk her into this? What was taking him so long?

“O M G!”

Marinette jumped at Alya’s exclamation when Chat Noir reappeared from behind the curtain. He flashed her a perfect smile, his usual cat-like sclera replaced with two normal green eyes. She’d never thought about what his eyes looked like under the suit. His hair was shorter too — he wasn’t kidding about the Disney Princess thing. That jawline looked familiar. She could have sworn she’d seen-

Ugh! What was she doing? She never should have agreed to let him detransform! She was going to be up all night studying the photos trying to figure out his identity. No! No, she wasn’t. She’d resist. She had to for the sake of Paris. If she found out who he was, then she’d have no choice but to tell him who she was. News would inevitably get out and make its way back to Hawkmoth, and they’d all be doomed. She could do this. Absolutely no thinking about who the boy in front of her could possibly be.

“So,” he drawled. “What do you think?”

Marinette blinked, cheeks flushing. How long had she been staring at him?

“Uh, it’s great!” She bit her lip, forcing her eyes to stare directly at the center of his nose instead of tracing every line of his face. He was Chat Noir, her goofy little cat boy, and nothing else. Although, with just the mask on he was more boy than cat, which was probably adding to her curiosity. “Actually… hang on.”

Marinette returned to her sewing machine, crafting a set of cat ears that she fastened into his hair. Pursing her lips, she stepped back to assess her work. Black mask plus ears equaled Chat Noir. Not some mysterious civilian boy she may or may not know. Chat Noir. Just Chat Noir.

“Aww, that’s cute,” Alya giggled.

“Aren’t I always?” Chat Noir winked.

“Down, boy. Remember what we talked about? Ladybug isn’t into the Casanova types.” Alya gave him a warning look.

“Oh, right. Sorry!”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Okay, we’ve already spent enough time getting ready, so let’s get this shoot over with and let Chat Noir transform back.”

“I’m not in any rush. Your clothes are way comfier than my suit. The fabric you used is super soft.” He ran his hands down the shirt. “Besides, you can’t rush perfection. I want the photos for your blog to be top clawlity just like your designs.”

“How sweet of you,” Marinette said through clenched teeth. As much as she appreciated his dedication to helping her blog, she needed him to hurry up.

Too nervous to do it herself, Marinette let Alya take the photos, opting to hold the light instead. She kept her eyes glued to the mask, but to her relief, it didn’t budge. Chat Noir took the perfect photos, and after what felt like forever, he finally retreated behind the screen to change again.

Marinette breathed out, relaxing her shoulders until a black blob flashed in her periphery and helped himself to the cheese danishes. Oh no! She’d forgotten about Plagg. What was he doing? He should be staying hidden!

“Whoa, no way! You must be Chat Noir’s kwami!” Alya pushed past Marinette to crouch beside the plate on the desk. She turned over her shoulder and added, “Kwamis are what give Ladybug and Chat Noir their superpowers.”

Of course, Alya knew what kwamis were, but Marinette wasn’t supposed to. Plagg crossed his arms over his chest as if waiting to see her reaction. Ugh, he could be just as annoying as his master.

“Wow!” Marinette gasped. “He’s like a little kitten. So cute.” And so not supposed to be out in the open.

Plagg shot her a smug grin. “It’s true. Chat Noir gets his handsome physique and swagger from me.” He flexed a tiny arm. “It’s a shame we kwamis don’t show up on camera. If everyone got to bask in my glory, your blog would have way more hits.”

“Don’t hold your breath on that one, buddy,” Chat Noir called from behind the screen.

“Aww, I think he’s adorable.” Alya scratched under his chin. “You can eat all the cheese danishes you want.”

“Don’t tell him that, or he will,” Chat Noir sighed. “Then the world will have a cheese shortage.”

“I think there’s a me shortage. Do you know how many cheeses there are in the world right now? It’s a crime I only have one mouth.” He crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.

Marinette and Alya giggled as he stuffed his face. He shoved the last bite down his gullet as Chat Noir called him back into the ring.

“Sorry about Plagg.” Chat Noir rolled his eyes as he stepped out from behind the screen.

“Are you kidding? I got to see and talk to a kwami up close!” Alya bounced with glee. “Do you think he’d let me interview him if I bring him cheese?”

“Absolutely not!” Marinette chided. At Chat Noir and Alya’s curious expressions, Marinette curled her shoulders. “Uh, well, I mean, wouldn’t it be dangerous to put out information on his kwami like that? What if Hawkmoth saw it and got some kind of advantage?”

“I’m not gonna post about it. I just have some questions.” Alya assured her.

“Trust me, he’ll do anything for cheese,” Chat Noir said.

She never should have let him detransform. If anyone was going to weasel their way into finding out Chat Noir’s true identity, it was Alya. Marinette would have to listen to her conspiracy theories on it for weeks. Was it too late to fire him?

“I can’t wait to see how the photos turn out, Marinette.”

She blinked, wiping the nails she’d been chewing on her jeans. “Oh, y-yeah. Thanks so much for agreeing to help. I never would have gotten this far without you.”

“Nah, that’s not true. I just helped you get there faster, but you would have drawn in a crowd eventually with how talented you are,” he said.

Marinette smiled and stretched up to kiss both of his cheeks. “Thanks, Chat Noir.”

“Need a ride home?” He turned to Alya and offered her a hand.

She shook her head. “Nu-uh. Not again. I’m gonna stay here and help Marinette go through the photos, then I’ll use my legs to get home.”

“Suit yourself.” Chat Noir opened the window and sat on the ledge. “I can’t wait to see what you design for me to wear next, Marinette. See you tomorrow!” He gave a two finger wave and leaned back out the window, vaulting off through the rooftops.

“Show off,” Marinette muttered, biting back a smirk. She closed the window and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ya know,” Alya said. “He looks kind of familiar, don’t you think?”

Marinette turned to find Alya clicking through the photos on her computer.

“No!” Marinette crossed the room in three long strides, swiveling her friend’s chair to face her. “And neither do you. We can’t speculate about his identity! That’s not why we’re here, and it would be a total invasion of his privacy.”

Alya threw her head back with a groan.

“Promise me you won’t snoop.” Marinette held out her pinky.

Alya pursed her lips, nevertheless, twining their fingers together. “Fine. I won’t speculate or pry. I have my own theories anyway.”

“Alya-”

“Alright, fine! I’ll shelf the topic for now.” When Marinette continued to glare, she crossed her arms over her chest with a sigh. “Okay, I won’t snoop period. Happy?”

“Yes.” Marinette nodded.

Her best friend drummed her fingers. “But seriously though, doesn’t he look really famili-”

“Alya!”

[tealfruit]

excited for my new (to me) bootsssss

[pagan-dreamwalker]

Sssssnakelet...?

Isssss that you?

It hasssss certainly been sssssome time....

Hibernation has kept me ssssleepy, and I haven't been able to check on you....

I hope you are well, my little hatchling....

Forgive me, it is cold and I am sssstill ssssso ssssleepy.... the cold makessss me sssso sssslow, but it'ssss warm enough that Aranha has been able to wake me....

I have ssssssent giftssssss, hatchling... giftsssss and letterssss...

Three pairssss of ssssockssss, sssssome pumpkin ssssoup, ssssssome ssssnow lilies that will make you feel happy when you ssssniff them, a fuzzy blanket, a sssset of pajamassss, a new ssssscale-sssskin coat to keep you warm, a fuzzy pair of glovessss, a sssscarf that will alwaysssss keep your neck warm, a ssssset of runesssstonessss and a letter explaining how they work and how to recharge them, a new pair of bootsssss, and a casssssserole.

I can feel my awarenessssss fading in and out, little one...

It will ssssoon be ssssspring, and then we can all be together....

Sssssleep well, my hatchling.... dream a little dream of me...

Love, Ophelia of @spiralsandscales

Thank you! I appreciate the gifts a lot! It's pretty cold so get some food and stay warm, you sleep well too ❤️

[kjack89]

Courfeyrac/Marius, 6? (Insert joke abt titling fics with TSwift lyrics because I know you)

A. Rude 😂 B. Joke’s on you because this one isn’t even a Taylor Swift song.

6. “Show Yourself” from Frozen 2.

Courfius, developing relationship, canon-era.

Marius knocked on Courfeyrac’s door, taking a deep breath as the other man opened the door. “I have come to seek your advice,” he announced.

Courfeyrac arched an eyebrow and took a step back, ushering Marius into his apartment with a sweeping bow. “Advice, hmm?” he asked as he closed the door behind them. “Advice on which of the many subjects I define myself an expert of?” He smirked at Marius. “How to woo a young lady, perhaps?”

“No,” Marius said, much too quickly. “You know there is no young lady I would wish to woo save for the one who is lost to me.”

Courfeyrac looked like he very much wished to comment on that, but instead changed tacks. “How to bed a stranger, then, to clear your mind of thoughts of the one you have lost?”

Marius cleared his throat, refusing to allow himself to get dragged into this. “Believe it or not, she is the last thing on my mind at the moment.”

Courfeyrac smiled, a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I take that as a compliment, you know.”

“It was intended as such,” Marius told him. “But no, that is not the advice I seek.”

“Then what?”

Marius could tell that the tips of his ears were starting to burn red, and he blurted, “I seek sartorial advice.”

Courfeyrac blinked. “Sartorial advice,” he repeated.

Marius nodded. “I have a...dinner this evening. With someone very important to me. And I wish to look my best, and there is no one I can think better to assist in this matter than you.”

“Another compliment,” Courfeyrac said, his voice low. “Keep that up, and I shall think you are wooing me.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Marius asked, more to himself than to Courfeyrac, who did not seem to hear the question.

“ Luckily for you, you have come to the right place at the right time, as my laundress has just delivered the best parts of my wardrobe,” Courfeyrac told him. “I am certain we shall find something that suits you.”

“I did not mean that I should borrow your clothing—” Marius started.

Courfeyrac just gave him a look. “Marius, my darling, if you are under the mistaken belief that we shall find something suitable among the unfortunate garments you own…”

He trailed off and Marius scowled. “What’s wrong with my garments?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Courfeyrac assured him hastily as he ushered him into the bedroom. “But that does not mean we cannot do better. Now, tell me more of this dinner. With whom are you dining? That will help determine the outfit choice.”

Marius blushed. “I am...dining with someone very special to me.”

The look Courfeyrac gave him was shrewd. “I thought you had not found your young lady.”

“I haven’t,” Marius said honestly. “But just because I have not found her, and, frankly, very well may never, does not mean that I should not live my life still.” He said it with more confidence than he felt, and undercut his attempt at bravado by hesitating and asking, “Doesn’t it?”

“Of course not, as I believe I have told you many times,” Courfeyrac said. “And yet, not even a quarter hour ago, you proclaimed there was no other young woman you wished to woo.”

“A statement that remains true,” Marius said, flushing even redder before adding, like a confession, “I never said that the person special to me was a woman.”

Courfeyrac stared at him for a long moment, his expression entirely unreadable. “Well,” he said finally. “That is my lesson not to make assumptions, I suppose.”

Marius tilted his head slightly. “Yet you don’t seem surprised.”

“Oh I am surprised,” Courfeyrac assured him. “But I am certainly not disappointed.” He presented Marius with an armful of clothes. “Now go try this on.”

He shooed Marius behind the dressing screen, and Marius reluctantly began peeling off his clothes and replacing them with Courfeyrac’s. “What do you mean that you are not disappointed?”

“I assume this means we are able to count you amongst our illustrious ranks,” Courfeyrac said easily. “And while not expected, I cannot also pretend that I have not hoped it to be the case.”

Marius blushed again, grateful for the dressing screen so that Courfeyrac could not see him. His fingers seemed clumsy as he hurried to button his shirt. “Well,” he managed finally, “at least I know I shall be in good company.”

“The third compliment this afternoon,” Courfeyrac remarked. “A boy really might get the wrong idea.”

“I was referring to Enjolras,” Marius said blithely, allowing himself a small, triumphant grin when Courfeyrac muttered something ungentlemanly under his breath. “Or perhaps Prouvaire, whom I can only assume you took inspiration from for this particular ensemble.”

He stepped out from behind the screen, fixing Courfeyrac with a pointed look. Courfeyrac pursed his lips, clearly trying not to laugh. “Admittedly, it would look better on darling Jehan,” he said, tapping his chin. “Though I think that shade of purple looks quite fetching on you.”

Marius wrinkled his nose. “Even so, I think something else would be preferred.”

“Very well,” Courfeyrac said, and he handed Marius another bundle of clothes, having apparently anticipated that his first selection would not be chosen. “Try this then.”

They spent an hour like that, Marius trying on multiple outfits and dutifully parading each for Courfeyrac, both men laughing and enjoying the simple intimacy they had shared many times over in this very bedroom. Finally, though, Marius adjusted Courfeyrac’s cravat and swallowed before stepping out once more from behind the dressing screen.

Courfeyrac’s eyes widened as he saw Marius, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Well now,” he said softly. “That is much more like it.”

Marius smiled as well, turning so that Courfeyrac could see him from all angles. “So what do you think?”

“I think you look magnificent,” Courfeyrac told him earnestly. “Certain to impress your beau, whomever the lucky man may be.”

“Well,” Marius said, smoothing his vest just to give his hands something to do, “in that case, would you like to accompany me to dinner this evening?”

For perhaps the first time since Marius had met him, Courfeyrac was speechless, gaping open-mouthed at him. “Do you mean—” he managed finally, though he could not seem to complete the question.

Marius nodded, a little hesitantly. “These past few months, I know I’ve been miserable company, and I shall not pretend that I do not miss her still. But you have been steadfast throughout, and a far greater comfort than I could have imagined. Nor can I imagine my life without you.” Courfeyrac was still staring at him, and he swallowed against the panic he could feel building in his chest. And I wished to make this known to you, and though dinner would be a good place to start. I am certain that I cannot compare to the young ladies and gentlemen you normally keep company with, so I thought, if you helped me dress up to your tastes, then perhaps I might have a chance—”

“Marius.” Courfeyrac’s voice cracked, just slightly. “You have never— To go through all this, to try to dress how you think I wanted—” He shook his head. “I owe you an apology.”

Marius’s heart plummeted. “I – I should go,” he said faintly, taking an automatic step back. “I should not have – I mean, I am sorry.”

“Mon amour.” Courfeyrac’s voice was soft and a little husky, and he reached out to take both his hands in his own. “You have nothing to apologize for, just as you have never needed to change a single thing about yourself to compare to any other, because there is no comparison. You have always been the best of them, and only ever by being yourself. And if ever I have made you feel otherwise, the fault is mine and mine alone.”

He raised Marius’s hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “And to answer your original question, I would love to have dinner with you. But not dressed like this – not unless you wish to be. I shall be glad to dine with you wearing anything.” He squeezed Marius’s hands before adding, too gentle still to be in his usual roguish way, “Or nothing at all.”

Marius laughed breathlessly. “I believe we should save that for dessert.”

Courfeyrac laughed as well, pulling Marius to him and embracing him before kissing his temple. “And I do believe that can be arranged.”

[oilan]

For the emoji opinions meme (your call how to interpret them lol): 🤔 🤤 🤯

-Today at work I was thinking hard about a project I would like to do one day, which is an online, fully illustrated version of Les Mis. Maybe not sprinkle illustrations throughout the text, but have links to artworks within the text for as many scenes as possible. Fanwork, more official historical illustrations, some of Hugo’s own stuff, etc.

-Is this a drunk emoji? If so, last weekend I went to my first party since COVID (for vaxxed people). It was Kentucky Derby themed and I got mildly trashed on mint juleps in the middle of the day.

-My mind was blown last week when I ate Ben and Jerry’s new tiramisu ice cream! It’s so good! Totally worth the slight lactose-intolerant-based issues later. Sometimes we must suffer for a scoop of happiness in this world.

[kcrabb88]

Marius Pontmercy?

How I feel about this character: Oh Marius, what a weird nerd who means well 

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Cosette and Courfeyrac! 

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Also Courfeyrac! I love them. 

My unpopular opinion about this character: I dunno if it’s unpopular but I do get frustrated with Marius re: how he treats Valjean before he realizes it was Valjean who saved him. I hope he and Cosette can have a long chat about that eventually! 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: That he had gotten to say a proper goodbye to his father, or that he wasn’t separated from his father at all!! It’s so sad. Imagine being left with Gillenormand, ugh. 

[aporeticelenchus]

bootsssss replied to your post “˜•ï¸ Favorite "comfort food" book?”

Can confirm-- I don't even like french toast but his was so good that I still think about it

I remember being disappointment as a kid when I tried restaurant French Toast, because it was just a big letdown compared with my dad making it. This is True Fact.

...now I kinda want to make French Toast...maybe I’ll do that tomorrow.

[clenster]

crowley B5 for @bootsssss !!!

thanks for playing