[ The baby Louis ( a name much to Enjolras' disdain, but he supposes that in having a child with the same name as a terrible king, he can hope to redeem it ) has not been in the Enjolras and Combeferre household for terribly long. A month a most. Give or take a week- Enjolras is unsure, because time seems to fly in his presence. It took a day for him to fall thoroughly in love with the small child- only a matter of minutes, if he's going to be perfectly honest. The plan was never to keep him. They were only going to house him until a proper home could be established- but all three of them ( really all of them, all the members of the Friends ) grew attached, and Enjolras wouldn't dare think about life without him.
Still, he's still a bit awkward with the child. He's run through the basics with Combeferre over and over again- the proper way to hold Louis, feed him, burp him, give him a bath. Dozens of times for each. Enjolras can never be too careful, obviously, especially not when it comes to his baby boy.
He's doing the later today. Enjolras arrived home earlier than Combeferre, and he saw Courfeyrac and baby Louis covered in a film of dirt and bright, shining smiles- he didn't ask for explanations, he didn't want any. He just promptly picked up the boy and shooed Courfeyrac off, taking him to the bathroom and setting the water up to the proper temperature- making things exactly as Combeferre had instructed before, and getting it one hundred percent perfect.
Once Louis takes some time to get used to it, he picks up a bar of soap. Enjolras tuts, but before he can grab it, Louis tosses it out of the tub, giggling excitedly. Enjolras sighs, picking it up and putting it back into place. It happens again. And once more. ]
[ Once again, Enjolras had surprised Combeferre. His beloved husband took to fatherhood like a very strict and precise awkward duck to water. Combeferre himself had long learned the ways of children. Aside from the endless research he had done before agreeing to take in Louis, much of his volunteer work required a careful hand and a warm smile to help the younger ones. He has endless patience, especially when it concerns Enjolras.
Louis himself. Well. Combeferre did try his best to not become attached. This was a temporary measure. He shouldn't think of Louis as his when in only a few weeks they would have to say goodbye. But waking up every morning to care for him (even if it was a ridiculous hour), seeing the peace on Enjolras's face then he held Louis, watching the baby laugh and cry and discover everything, it was hopeless. Combeferre has fallen in love with that child within moments.
He knows it will be a struggle for it to become official. Louis is their's now. They would fight for him as they would any cause. There were benefits to having so many lawyers as friends, after all.
Combeferre is not far behind Enjolras. He doesn't know, but he walks into their home just in time to hear the third and final soap throw. Well, that answers where they are before he can ask. Coat and shoes off, he makes his way to the bathroom where he finds his two most favorite men in the world. One of them very dirty. Combeferre raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. He draws no attention to himself. This is his favorite part of the day. Watching the two of them when Enjolras thinks he is not watched. He won't let it go on for long. He hasn't had a kiss from either of them since this morning. ]
[ The night is beautiful and warm; the moon is even full. Merlin has never been very sure about any of the ideas that the knights encourage, especially when they're, you know, this enthusiastic about it.
But! Merlin promised. He promised that he would sit here, in this nice little spot, with a fire going and food waiting.
For a man. A nice man, they insisted. Really, Merlin would love him. This is going to end terribly. Maybe he won't end up dead, at least.
Merlin jumps at every rustle and sound behind and around him, hoping to see who his company is. Most of them are animals. The last one isn't but he can't.. quite make out who... He squints, trying to make them out. Part of him knows the rhythm of that step but where... ]
[ Make no mistake of it: Arthur is not here by his own choice. Neither would he be at all, were it not on his honour after stupidly losing a bet with Percival - he hadn't known the strong man to have quite such an accurate throwing arm.
But a wager is a wager. Even if he hadn't seen it, the whole group had heard the crow's indignant protest as the thrown pebble knocked it clear from the branch at fifty paces.
Arthur will not make that mistake again.
Discretion is the better part of valour, as they say. He is hidden well enough under the inconspicuous blue cloak. Hidden to the eyes; but his stride perhaps gives him away to those who know him better. He feels stupid, and naked without his sword - there's a dagger at his hip, but it won't be enough if somebody decides to make the most of this opportunity to find him out of his element - and then suddenly, ridiculously, plunged right back into it.
He's barely stepped into the firelight before he throws back his hood with unintended melodrama and stares at his night's companion with disbelief all over his face. ]
[ The biology wing had to close suddenly that morning. For once. For once!! It had nothing to do with Newt or his team. Which, y'know, it's kinda funny since they do a lot of research with kaiju. Something about smoke and waste hazards? He's not exactly sure what's up. He doesn't really care. Free day off of work, baby. Now that he thinks about it, Newt doesn't think he's ever spent a whole day alone with only him and their son Lukas. They have to have a babysitter (caregiver little internal Hermann voice corrects) by day. Any day the babysitter (caregiver!) isn't around, they're both home. They work for the same university.
Sucks for Hermann that only biology and a few physics classes have been cancelled.
No, seriously, it does suck. They have had a blast all day. Newt even got to take a nap. A fucking nap! And no one yelled at him for it!
Out of habit (thanks, better half), Newt's kept every room clean except the living room. Toys are scattered all of the place. That's because currently Newt is rolling away with the rest of the "citizens of Tokyo" from the scary Lukaszilla. ]
Oh god why! The humanity!
[ Lukas stops his roaring to whisper, ]
Dad, you have to scream louder than that.
[ Of course, Newt laughs. ]
You have to be scarier than that if that's what you want. What kind of a monster are you, huh?
[ Both roars and screams get louder, but Newt manages to save Tokyo by tickling the monster. Somehow, yeah Newt doesn't know how either, the giggling is louder than the monster yelling. ]
[ Hermann had hardly been able to believe it: Newt and his team not responsible for this sudden shut down of the biology department? He had scoffed before finally getting confirmation (which led to him telling Newt to shut up before he even got a word out). He had warned his husband to behave himself and not destroy the house--before charging Lukas with the task of keeping his father in line
His day of classes had gone much the same as they always had. With only a few more people missing; no doubt thinking they could get away with skipping his class because they didn't have any of their sciences today. No worry, Hermann had a surprise for them tomorrow.
When he finally returned home, he was able to momentarily ignore the bite of the cold wind as he heard his husband and son all the way in the driveway. He mumbled 'good lord' to himself as he made his way to the door, shaking his head but still smiling.
The burst of warmth that greeted him as soon as he got the door open was heaven. Even the sight of toys strung in the hallway wasn't enough to ruin it. ]
[ Considering they are siblings, it was a surprisingly easy process to arrange their dorms this way. Jean is incredibly thankful. He, like his sister, can't and doesn't want to think of living apart from her. They did grow used to having their own rooms.
This isn't much of a sacrifice. They know every little habit and quirk about each other. They have been in fights (admittedly a very very few) and know how to bounce back from them. There is safety and home waiting in their dorm room, which isn't anything any of their classmates or friends can say.
Jean is reading as she enters. Automatically, he rolls to settle into their cuddles without looking away from the book. She won't be offended if he finishes the sentence. It only takes another moment, anyway. The book is soon placed on the night stand and his arms around her shoulders. ]
Are you back early or did I lose all of my afternoon...?
[ His voice is always soft around anyone, but with Jehan it is never meek. He never blushes. He never acts awkwardly. Only around her. Not even their parents get that treatment. ]
[ This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Merlin stares down at the potion. It doesn't look particularly fancy. There are no glowing colors, strange smokes, odd smells, anything like that.
It's a simple glass bottle full of a very blue liquid. It looks more like dye than anything one would drink...
He's been practicing the more complex spells and magics. As illegal as they still are, eventually someone is going to need a spell beyond his skill. It's happened more than once. He'd like better control.
Really, there's no promise this thing could actually work. It's his first time making it. He could have failed miserably. He has before. The idea is too promising.
When this potion is shared with another, you're able to share their dream. Watch what goes on in the deepest part of their minds even they can't control. He know s he shouldn't. He really really knows he shouldn't. But... He does have to test it... And how will Arthur find out anyway?
[ Today has not been a particularly terrible day. It hasn't been spectacular either. It has been a fine, normal day. He did not experience more stop lights than usual. No, those were all the same amount. He had the same minor annoyances one always comes across in studies and work. He saw friends for lunch and found a rather interesting article that Enjolras will enjoy.
Yes. Absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary for a day like today.
Except, he has noticed that the text messages that usually come with great speed this late in the afternoon/early evening has slowed down. Significantly. Did Enjolras have a project? No, he's checked his mental calendar several times. There is nothing.
There is, of course, the minor chance he's forgotten something. That's almost as impossible as what will await him when he's home.
Combeferre enters. As soon as his coat and shoes are off, he calls as if he would any other night. ]
Enjolras?
[ Living together had been the best idea either of them ever had. This made it so much easier to constantly see each other and surround themselves by work. ]
[ Combeferre never hides smiles. He is not lacking in smiles or in happiness. More often than not, his somber expression is from a combination of thought and the weight of the world upon him. Ignorance is bliss and he knows far too much to let any passing thing stir happiness.
This time, however, he is glad to be a collector of knowledge both trivial and otherwise.
The cake is chocolate and chocolate, sprinkles too. One has to have sprinkles. Eponine is a sprinkle herself. Light, sweet, colorful, and a bit shaky. He's excited. It's so rare one gets to surprise like this. ]
[ Most have long since given up hope that Morgana will return. Selfishly, Merlin hopes she does. He wants her safe, as safe as she can be, with what family she's got. Who wouldn't want that?
Then there is the horribly selfish part that wants nothing more than to explain, to apologize, to help, to make it up to her somehow. How? How he has no idea. He wouldn't forgive and forget so easily if someone tried to poison him.
For once, Merlin is actually fetching herbs for Gaius. There are no tricks or schemes. Things have been quiet, with the exception of the search parties. It's as close to a day off as Merlin is going to get.
He pops back up from the ground with a victorious smile on his face. This is exactly what he needed. He turns some to put it in his pouch and movement catches his eye. Hunting for sport he may not approve of but it most definitely helped his awareness. Merlin turns, expecting a deer. A deer is most definitely not what faces him. ]
[ He's nervous. Of course he is. It's not every day you ask the most perfect woman in the world to be yours for the rest of your lives. He does not doubt, not really. They had lived together for a considerable time now. Well before this, he knew. Pythagoras knew that he would never love another person as much as he loves Guinevere.
The ring is a simple one. Thin band of white gold with a princess cut diamond. Perfect. Anything more flashy than that and Gwen wouldn't appreciate it nearly as much. "That's too much," she'd say. Pythagoras grins and closes the little box and pockets it.
Gwen has no idea... he hopes at least. He didn't tell her anything particularly different. Dinner, on the other hand, is vastly different from the norm. Pythagoras has evolved into a very competent chef. Nowhere near professional, but excellent with recipes and some minor success with experiments. Their flat is spotless. He even has a candle! Which is being lit as soon as he can find the lighter... ]
[ Making their way through the list of kinks has been a wonderful and beautiful experience. Unfortunately, they are reaching an end to it. Saving some of the more nerve-wracking things for last. There the item on the list remains uncrossed: threesome.
One name came to mind as soon as the subject is brought up. Courfeyrac has been their best friend for years. He casually and cleanly gives his love physically to... essentially anyone. Why not to them, two men that he spends so much time with? They trust him with so much. They can trust him with this.
Here they are, on Enjolras's couch, with Courfeyrac in the center and the other two on left and right. Combeferre almost feels he should apologize to Courfeyrac. He, at least, feels incredibly awkward and it's affecting the mood. ]
Where do we begin? [ He asks hoping either Enjolras will dive in as he typically does or Courfeyrac with help them laugh through the fumbling awkwardness. ]
[ It was a natural conclusion to go straight for Courfeyrac. There isn't another person he would think to do this with- though, to be fair, he's never honestly thought to do this with him either. He hadn't thought to do it, the sex, with Combeferre either, so he tries to keep an open mind. Enjolras might like this. Really, all this considered, it would be very, very hard not to.
They fit their roles well- Combeferre, the guide, asking where to start and Courfeyrac, the center, being comforting and relaxed. That leaves Enjolras, the chief, who is- nervous, most definitely, but he's never let nerves rule him before. It would be a shame to let an opportunity like this to be spoiled by awkwardness, and instead he beams confidence, ignoring the kicking in his gut. ]
At the start, I'm presuming.
[ He flashes Combeferre a short smile, before the leader takes charge, catching the side of Courfeyrac's cheek and turning him to lead them into a kiss. It's a weird thing for a man who has sworn to kiss no one other than Combeferre, but it's nice, he thinks, and he's keeps it short. First kisses are meant to be that way, aren't they? ]
[ Spring break is an absolute blessing. You're worn down from fall and half of spring. Midterms always take out a major chunk of your brain. This one golden week is a savior. It's necessary. And Merlin's lucky enough to spend it with the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
He's not kidding himself. Cosette could do far better than him. She's beautiful and intelligent and charming and an angel. No, seriously. He's pretty sure that there's an actual singing chorus whenever she walks in a room. The glow he hasn't imagined either. Lancelot confirmed it.
But! He's going to count himself lucky anyway. She seems to either be vacationing close by or lived there or-- Whatever. She's here. She's here, he's here. And they are having lunch together. They definitely aren't strangers. They probably spend more time together than a lot of actual couples on campus. Any time she's willing to give him, he'll gladly take.
Merlin's long since finished his water. The giggles of their last conversation still lingering in the air. It's a beautiful day out. They shouldn't be wasting it. Merlin leans close, eyes narrowing in that playful way that tells you this secret is big. Super important. ]
You want to see the best spot for swimming?
[ There's no trick, no scheme. Merlin simply wants to have fun. More importantly, he wants Cosette to have fun. ]
[ The flowers, the air, the palatable warmth all around them. There are plenty of things for Jehan to truly enjoy. He is no stranger to this garden, this park. More free afternoons have been spent admiring the beautiful plants than anywhere else. It's a wonderful place to think. Quiet, with enough people to provoke your thoughts further without being disturbed. Beautiful and man-made nature all around them. A fantastic contradiction. A painting made with Mother Earth's own beauty.
None of that matters when he spots her.
Jehan finds beauty - interest - in every person he meets. Every person has a story. Flaws and talents and admirable qualities and shameful guilty pleasures that make them 100% a true person. But her. Here she is, surrounded by all this beauty...
And she looks positively murderous. Softly murderous. It's another contradiction to set off so many surrounding him.
He has to talk to her. He will leave her alone should she truly want him to, but it would be such a wasted opportunity to let this ghost slip away into the night and never know the sound of her voice.
It's a lesson Jehan has learned from Marius. ]
... Hello.
[ Despite his bravery, despite his need to approach her and talk to her and know every detail she is willing to give, his voice is still soft and meek. He wants to talk, he does. His voice betrays him, as it often does without a cause to shout for. Without his leaders there to stir his volume higher and higher. ]
New job as quartermaster of MI6 means a considerable upgrade to living arrangements. Of course, when she bought the place, she didn't foresee a few minor fixes and dents, as well as new paint she already planned on. Oh well. That's another bonus in those upgrades: you don't have to worry. Someone else does.
Q's yet to see the man actually working on her space. Foreign hours usually dictate working well outside of "normal" for everyone else. Today, however, is one of the first days off she's had in ages and it feels fantastic. Or, it would if not for the noise. She's not upset at the worker. It's hardly his fault. Banging doesn't make for a pleasant alarm clock either way.
Q lets out a long breath and drags herself from bead. Might as well see a morning for the first time in ages. After a few minutes, she's dressed (cardigan, collard shirt, jeans for a day off) and finishing off her usual bun as she makes her way downstairs. ]
Good morning.
[ She sort-of calls as she rounds the corner. Wouldn't want to startle the poor man. ]
[ Lance has never actually met the person who hired him, it's all been e-mails and phone calls and post-it notes, and apparently she's been busy enough that they've not even crossed paths in the building itself.
He's not seen any sign of anyone else, either, so he assumes that i) she is perhaps too trusting (Lance would steal or anything, but someone else might!) and ii) apparently lives alone, so is perhaps single.
The sound of her voice makes him turn from where he's been taking down shelves to properly repaint a wall which is an atrocious shade of green currently and he makes another assessment.
She is, in fact, really quite beautiful.
Lance blinks stupidly a moment, trying to remember how speech works, then straightens and sets down his tools -- wipes dust off his hands onto his jeans and paces over. ]
I'm sorry if I woke you, I can try and be quieter.
[ The summer break with Courfeyrac has, without a doubt, been fantastic. So many nights have been spent on adventures, late night talks, and oh so many kisses. Nothing... More than that for now. Combeferre does not wish to rush things. Not with someone so important to him. Emelien has been exceptional about it, as well.
Patience in all things, romance and otherwise.
Combeferre stretches again as he makes his way to Courfeyrac's room. Yesterday had been a day of work. A mind is a terrible thing to waste and they do not want to see too much of each other. Thus, some days Combeferre requires his intensive study. Today is a day for the two of them to enjoy company.
They have seen each other naked before. It's a consequence of knowing each other for so long. Combeferre doesn't think twice as he knocks on Courfeyrac's door right before opening it. ]
I sincerely hope you're out of b--
[ Oh. That... That is something he could have never expected, even with the years of experience in dealing with Emelien Courfeyrac. Combeferre blinks and blinks as he takes in the image. His cheeks slowly turning a bright red. It's... Much more attractive than it should be. ]
It's funny, Peter always thought if were to get unmasked it would be in the heat of battle, in front of hundreds of cops and thousands of people - like some sort of spectacle to be seen, like it's something that's been on the tip of everyone's tongue, the front of everyone's brain. Like it's something the people would want, if Peter were an entertainer.
He did not, however, think it would be in the men's bathroom of the Secret Intelligence Service.
He'd been asked a few weeks back to aid in some sort of stunt - secret, naturally, but it's not like he could risk showing his face, revealing his identity, even to government officials. Especially not to government officials - but these people at least understand the importance of a persona. So it's been uncomfortable, it's been weird - he's had to wear his Spider-Man outfit essentially 24/7, and while it's been made for comfort, it's also tight fitting and actually kind of hot.
So he's gone to the bathroom to splash water on his face. Always lock the door, Parker, rookie mistake. ]
Uh...
[ He has blue spandex-clad hands held up, brown eyes wide like a spooked animal. He's Peter Parker - a freelance photographer, mainly known for getting rare shots of Spider-Man himself.
[ Business as usual. World's most genius hacker necessary for all aspects of keeping the delicate balance of justice and chaos. He appears calm and collected. Inwardly, and perhaps in the rare instances it shows during missions, he is a kid in a candy store with unlimited access. The challenges are endless. However, in the madness that is espionage, there is routine. There is a mild sense of predictability. It is, after all, still the government.
That is why his relocation is all the more thrilling. Even if it meant a flight.
Q has heard rumors of the ... superhero? The spandex wonder? being used for this complex mission. There are absolutely no confirmations of it. That is until in walks Q, dressed in a suit, and spying the man under the mask. His own wide eyes blink in confusion. Talented and as good looking under the suit as his physique.
Now. What to do abut this. Q can't see anything particularly... terrible about the situation. What is he apologizing for? ]
What can you explain?
[ He asks with honest confusion as he too washes his face. After shedding his coat and rolling up his sleeves, of course. ]
Summers are short in Camelot. There are knights from the South who complain - but Mordred has spent time enough in the North, in Ismir. Where summer is a dream you hope for as you bed down on the snow. Where frostbite is held barely at bay by a fire you build as big as you can and pray doesn't go out as you sleep. He has travelled with bandits who have not been as lucky as he has; have not had the secret magic he has relied upon more than once to keep him in possession of all his extremities.
The seasonable heat has him uncharacteristically bare in tunic and britches alone, boots lined up neatly beside him on the grass to offer his toes the freedom of the air and sunshine. It's still rare to see him out of his armour. While duty had forced a token complaint from his mouth when he was told he was relieved of duty for the day, he had been inwardly grateful to be able to allow Percival to lead him off with a laugh and a come on, little Leon, before our king finds you something to do after all. Except that now he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.
Oh, he knows what the others are doing. He knows because he can see them from here. The lake is so beautiful and so rarely is it warm enough to swim in it that he can hardly blame them for taking the opportunity. And of course, he's grateful that while they seemed prepared to bodily throw him in the water to begin with, his protests once recognised as serious were taken as such.
Mordred raises an idle hand to swat at a fat bumblebee that wanders too close to his head. The peace and solitude is nice too, he supposes.
Gwaine was made for warm weather. It feels less like nature absolutely hates you. The armor he is now forced to wear daily only make matters worse. The colder it is outside, the colder he becomes surrounded by metal. He constantly feels like a caged bird.
But today? He's free. He is the first to shed armor and (most) clothes to jump into the water. Gwaine's never learned how to swim. Now's probably a good time. Percival, the giant, managed to keep him from dying. Really what else is the big lug for?
Eventually, however, even a newly free bird has to rest its wings. Gwaine takes the few extra steps up the bank to sit next to Mordred. Like most of the knights, he quickly took to the young man. Easy to tease, ready to fight, ready to do what is good. Not bad looking. Gwaine's kind of company.
"You're missing out on all the fun," he says casually as he lays down, ankles crossed and hands folded behind his head.
[ This isn't the first time he's been tempted by flesh. It's most certainly not the first time he's given in, even with the new love of his life. It does not make her any less of a temptation to have tasted he before. If anything, it makes his hands wander more. Now, despite being at a table surrounded by The Friends, the tips of his fingers delicately trace along where stockings end. His eyes remain focused on Enjolras, who is speaking as usual, but his mind lies distinctly on what is beneath those clothes. How beautiful she looks when passion overtakes her. His hand slips accidentally-on-purpose a little too inward. A little too close to brushing most intimate of intimate areas.
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THE ADOPTION • boyfriends au
[ The baby Louis ( a name much to Enjolras' disdain, but he supposes that in having a child with the same name as a terrible king, he can hope to redeem it ) has not been in the Enjolras and Combeferre household for terribly long. A month a most. Give or take a week- Enjolras is unsure, because time seems to fly in his presence. It took a day for him to fall thoroughly in love with the small child- only a matter of minutes, if he's going to be perfectly honest. The plan was never to keep him. They were only going to house him until a proper home could be established- but all three of them ( really all of them, all the members of the Friends ) grew attached, and Enjolras wouldn't dare think about life without him.
Still, he's still a bit awkward with the child. He's run through the basics with Combeferre over and over again- the proper way to hold Louis, feed him, burp him, give him a bath. Dozens of times for each. Enjolras can never be too careful, obviously, especially not when it comes to his baby boy.
He's doing the later today. Enjolras arrived home earlier than Combeferre, and he saw Courfeyrac and baby Louis covered in a film of dirt and bright, shining smiles- he didn't ask for explanations, he didn't want any. He just promptly picked up the boy and shooed Courfeyrac off, taking him to the bathroom and setting the water up to the proper temperature- making things exactly as Combeferre had instructed before, and getting it one hundred percent perfect.
Once Louis takes some time to get used to it, he picks up a bar of soap. Enjolras tuts, but before he can grab it, Louis tosses it out of the tub, giggling excitedly. Enjolras sighs, picking it up and putting it back into place. It happens again. And once more. ]
I'm not playing fetch with you all night, baby L.
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Louis himself. Well. Combeferre did try his best to not become attached. This was a temporary measure. He shouldn't think of Louis as his when in only a few weeks they would have to say goodbye. But waking up every morning to care for him (even if it was a ridiculous hour), seeing the peace on Enjolras's face then he held Louis, watching the baby laugh and cry and discover everything, it was hopeless. Combeferre has fallen in love with that child within moments.
He knows it will be a struggle for it to become official. Louis is their's now. They would fight for him as they would any cause. There were benefits to having so many lawyers as friends, after all.
Combeferre is not far behind Enjolras. He doesn't know, but he walks into their home just in time to hear the third and final soap throw. Well, that answers where they are before he can ask. Coat and shoes off, he makes his way to the bathroom where he finds his two most favorite men in the world. One of them very dirty. Combeferre raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. He draws no attention to himself. This is his favorite part of the day. Watching the two of them when Enjolras thinks he is not watched. He won't let it go on for long. He hasn't had a kiss from either of them since this morning. ]
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i'm sorry these took so long 8(
don't be silly!
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THE BLIND DATE • fuck-s5 au
But! Merlin promised. He promised that he would sit here, in this nice little spot, with a fire going and food waiting.
For a man. A nice man, they insisted. Really, Merlin would love him. This is going to end terribly. Maybe he won't end up dead, at least.
Merlin jumps at every rustle and sound behind and around him, hoping to see who his company is. Most of them are animals. The last one isn't but he can't.. quite make out who... He squints, trying to make them out. Part of him knows the rhythm of that step but where... ]
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But a wager is a wager. Even if he hadn't seen it, the whole group had heard the crow's indignant protest as the thrown pebble knocked it clear from the branch at fifty paces.
Arthur will not make that mistake again.
Discretion is the better part of valour, as they say. He is hidden well enough under the inconspicuous blue cloak. Hidden to the eyes; but his stride perhaps gives him away to those who know him better. He feels stupid, and naked without his sword - there's a dagger at his hip, but it won't be enough if somebody decides to make the most of this opportunity to find him out of his element - and then suddenly, ridiculously, plunged right back into it.
He's barely stepped into the firelight before he throws back his hood with unintended melodrama and stares at his night's companion with disbelief all over his face. ]
Merlin?
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COLORING • geiszler-gottlieb family
Sucks for Hermann that only biology and a few physics classes have been cancelled.
No, seriously, it does suck. They have had a blast all day. Newt even got to take a nap. A fucking nap! And no one yelled at him for it!
Out of habit (thanks, better half), Newt's kept every room clean except the living room. Toys are scattered all of the place. That's because currently Newt is rolling away with the rest of the "citizens of Tokyo" from the scary Lukaszilla. ]
Oh god why! The humanity!
[ Lukas stops his roaring to whisper, ]
Dad, you have to scream louder than that.
[ Of course, Newt laughs. ]
You have to be scarier than that if that's what you want. What kind of a monster are you, huh?
[ Both roars and screams get louder, but Newt manages to save Tokyo by tickling the monster. Somehow, yeah Newt doesn't know how either, the giggling is louder than the monster yelling. ]
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His day of classes had gone much the same as they always had. With only a few more people missing; no doubt thinking they could get away with skipping his class because they didn't have any of their sciences today. No worry, Hermann had a surprise for them tomorrow.
When he finally returned home, he was able to momentarily ignore the bite of the cold wind as he heard his husband and son all the way in the driveway. He mumbled 'good lord' to himself as he made his way to the door, shaking his head but still smiling.
The burst of warmth that greeted him as soon as he got the door open was heaven. Even the sight of toys strung in the hallway wasn't enough to ruin it. ]
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you used a flower!!!
This isn't much of a sacrifice. They know every little habit and quirk about each other. They have been in fights (admittedly a very very few) and know how to bounce back from them. There is safety and home waiting in their dorm room, which isn't anything any of their classmates or friends can say.
Jean is reading as she enters. Automatically, he rolls to settle into their cuddles without looking away from the book. She won't be offended if he finishes the sentence. It only takes another moment, anyway. The book is soon placed on the night stand and his arms around her shoulders. ]
Are you back early or did I lose all of my afternoon...?
[ His voice is always soft around anyone, but with Jehan it is never meek. He never blushes. He never acts awkwardly. Only around her. Not even their parents get that treatment. ]
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→ clotpoles
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It's a simple glass bottle full of a very blue liquid. It looks more like dye than anything one would drink...
He's been practicing the more complex spells and magics. As illegal as they still are, eventually someone is going to need a spell beyond his skill. It's happened more than once. He'd like better control.
Really, there's no promise this thing could actually work. It's his first time making it. He could have failed miserably. He has before. The idea is too promising.
When this potion is shared with another, you're able to share their dream. Watch what goes on in the deepest part of their minds even they can't control. He know s he shouldn't. He really really knows he shouldn't. But... He does have to test it... And how will Arthur find out anyway?
He sets off to prepare Arthur's dinner. ]
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nsfw »
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Yes. Absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary for a day like today.
Except, he has noticed that the text messages that usually come with great speed this late in the afternoon/early evening has slowed down. Significantly. Did Enjolras have a project? No, he's checked his mental calendar several times. There is nothing.
There is, of course, the minor chance he's forgotten something. That's almost as impossible as what will await him when he's home.
Combeferre enters. As soon as his coat and shoes are off, he calls as if he would any other night. ]
Enjolras?
[ Living together had been the best idea either of them ever had. This made it so much easier to constantly see each other and surround themselves by work. ]
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→ ferre → there's no ship like friendship.
Nobody's remembered her birthday since she was eight. How he knows it is anybody's guess.
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[ Combeferre never hides smiles. He is not lacking in smiles or in happiness. More often than not, his somber expression is from a combination of thought and the weight of the world upon him. Ignorance is bliss and he knows far too much to let any passing thing stir happiness.
This time, however, he is glad to be a collector of knowledge both trivial and otherwise.
The cake is chocolate and chocolate, sprinkles too. One has to have sprinkles. Eponine is a sprinkle herself. Light, sweet, colorful, and a bit shaky. He's excited. It's so rare one gets to surprise like this. ]
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→ clotpoles → circa morgana's return.
When they find her, she doesn't remember a thing.
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Then there is the horribly selfish part that wants nothing more than to explain, to apologize, to help, to make it up to her somehow. How? How he has no idea. He wouldn't forgive and forget so easily if someone tried to poison him.
For once, Merlin is actually fetching herbs for Gaius. There are no tricks or schemes. Things have been quiet, with the exception of the search parties. It's as close to a day off as Merlin is going to get.
He pops back up from the ground with a victorious smile on his face. This is exactly what he needed. He turns some to put it in his pouch and movement catches his eye. Hunting for sport he may not approve of but it most definitely helped his awareness. Merlin turns, expecting a deer. A deer is most definitely not what faces him. ]
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→ pythagoras
She doesn't know he's going to pop the question.
He doesn't know that she's got news of her own.
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The ring is a simple one. Thin band of white gold with a princess cut diamond. Perfect. Anything more flashy than that and Gwen wouldn't appreciate it nearly as much. "That's too much," she'd say. Pythagoras grins and closes the little box and pockets it.
Gwen has no idea... he hopes at least. He didn't tell her anything particularly different. Dinner, on the other hand, is vastly different from the norm. Pythagoras has evolved into a very competent chef. Nowhere near professional, but excellent with recipes and some minor success with experiments. Their flat is spotless. He even has a candle! Which is being lit as soon as he can find the lighter... ]
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THE THREESOME • boyfriends au
One name came to mind as soon as the subject is brought up. Courfeyrac has been their best friend for years. He casually and cleanly gives his love physically to... essentially anyone. Why not to them, two men that he spends so much time with? They trust him with so much. They can trust him with this.
Here they are, on Enjolras's couch, with Courfeyrac in the center and the other two on left and right. Combeferre almost feels he should apologize to Courfeyrac. He, at least, feels incredibly awkward and it's affecting the mood. ]
Where do we begin? [ He asks hoping either Enjolras will dive in as he typically does or Courfeyrac with help them laugh through the fumbling awkwardness. ]
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They fit their roles well- Combeferre, the guide, asking where to start and Courfeyrac, the center, being comforting and relaxed. That leaves Enjolras, the chief, who is- nervous, most definitely, but he's never let nerves rule him before. It would be a shame to let an opportunity like this to be spoiled by awkwardness, and instead he beams confidence, ignoring the kicking in his gut. ]
At the start, I'm presuming.
[ He flashes Combeferre a short smile, before the leader takes charge, catching the side of Courfeyrac's cheek and turning him to lead them into a kiss. It's a weird thing for a man who has sworn to kiss no one other than Combeferre, but it's nice, he thinks, and he's keeps it short. First kisses are meant to be that way, aren't they? ]
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merlin ∂ adorable college au
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[ Spring break is an absolute blessing. You're worn down from fall and half of spring. Midterms always take out a major chunk of your brain. This one golden week is a savior. It's necessary. And Merlin's lucky enough to spend it with the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
He's not kidding himself. Cosette could do far better than him. She's beautiful and intelligent and charming and an angel. No, seriously. He's pretty sure that there's an actual singing chorus whenever she walks in a room. The glow he hasn't imagined either. Lancelot confirmed it.
But! He's going to count himself lucky anyway. She seems to either be vacationing close by or lived there or-- Whatever. She's here. She's here, he's here. And they are having lunch together. They definitely aren't strangers. They probably spend more time together than a lot of actual couples on campus. Any time she's willing to give him, he'll gladly take.
Merlin's long since finished his water. The giggles of their last conversation still lingering in the air. It's a beautiful day out. They shouldn't be wasting it. Merlin leans close, eyes narrowing in that playful way that tells you this secret is big. Super important. ]
You want to see the best spot for swimming?
[ There's no trick, no scheme. Merlin simply wants to have fun. More importantly, he wants Cosette to have fun. ]
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jehan ∂ this is a thing that is happening
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None of that matters when he spots her.
Jehan finds beauty - interest - in every person he meets. Every person has a story. Flaws and talents and admirable qualities and shameful guilty pleasures that make them 100% a true person. But her. Here she is, surrounded by all this beauty...
And she looks positively murderous. Softly murderous. It's another contradiction to set off so many surrounding him.
He has to talk to her. He will leave her alone should she truly want him to, but it would be such a wasted opportunity to let this ghost slip away into the night and never know the sound of her voice.
It's a lesson Jehan has learned from Marius. ]
... Hello.
[ Despite his bravery, despite his need to approach her and talk to her and know every detail she is willing to give, his voice is still soft and meek. He wants to talk, he does. His voice betrays him, as it often does without a cause to shout for. Without his leaders there to stir his volume higher and higher. ]
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THE HANDYMAN • sounds like a porno, is just very awkward
New job as quartermaster of MI6 means a considerable upgrade to living arrangements. Of course, when she bought the place, she didn't foresee a few minor fixes and dents, as well as new paint she already planned on. Oh well. That's another bonus in those upgrades: you don't have to worry. Someone else does.
Q's yet to see the man actually working on her space. Foreign hours usually dictate working well outside of "normal" for everyone else. Today, however, is one of the first days off she's had in ages and it feels fantastic. Or, it would if not for the noise. She's not upset at the worker. It's hardly his fault. Banging doesn't make for a pleasant alarm clock either way.
Q lets out a long breath and drags herself from bead. Might as well see a morning for the first time in ages. After a few minutes, she's dressed (cardigan, collard shirt, jeans for a day off) and finishing off her usual bun as she makes her way downstairs. ]
Good morning.
[ She sort-of calls as she rounds the corner. Wouldn't want to startle the poor man. ]
It'd be a sexy porno though
He's not seen any sign of anyone else, either, so he assumes that i) she is perhaps too trusting (Lance would steal or anything, but someone else might!) and ii) apparently lives alone, so is perhaps single.
The sound of her voice makes him turn from where he's been taking down shelves to properly repaint a wall which is an atrocious shade of green currently and he makes another assessment.
She is, in fact, really quite beautiful.
Lance blinks stupidly a moment, trying to remember how speech works, then straightens and sets down his tools -- wipes dust off his hands onto his jeans and paces over. ]
I'm sorry if I woke you, I can try and be quieter.
NICE lance icons mmm
I thought you'd approve
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...
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ღ ℘αs ᴜɴ ᴛʀαᴠesᴛɪ ᴛʏᴘɪᴄαʟ ;
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Patience in all things, romance and otherwise.
Combeferre stretches again as he makes his way to Courfeyrac's room. Yesterday had been a day of work. A mind is a terrible thing to waste and they do not want to see too much of each other. Thus, some days Combeferre requires his intensive study. Today is a day for the two of them to enjoy company.
They have seen each other naked before. It's a consequence of knowing each other for so long. Combeferre doesn't think twice as he knocks on Courfeyrac's door right before opening it. ]
I sincerely hope you're out of b--
[ Oh. That... That is something he could have never expected, even with the years of experience in dealing with Emelien Courfeyrac. Combeferre blinks and blinks as he takes in the image. His cheeks slowly turning a bright red. It's... Much more attractive than it should be. ]
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[ Caught.
It's funny, Peter always thought if were to get unmasked it would be in the heat of battle, in front of hundreds of cops and thousands of people - like some sort of spectacle to be seen, like it's something that's been on the tip of everyone's tongue, the front of everyone's brain. Like it's something the people would want, if Peter were an entertainer.
He did not, however, think it would be in the men's bathroom of the Secret Intelligence Service.
He'd been asked a few weeks back to aid in some sort of stunt - secret, naturally, but it's not like he could risk showing his face, revealing his identity, even to government officials. Especially not to government officials - but these people at least understand the importance of a persona. So it's been uncomfortable, it's been weird - he's had to wear his Spider-Man outfit essentially 24/7, and while it's been made for comfort, it's also tight fitting and actually kind of hot.
So he's gone to the bathroom to splash water on his face. Always lock the door, Parker, rookie mistake. ]
Uh...
[ He has blue spandex-clad hands held up, brown eyes wide like a spooked animal. He's Peter Parker - a freelance photographer, mainly known for getting rare shots of Spider-Man himself.
Well. They're selfies, basically. ]
I can explain.
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That is why his relocation is all the more thrilling. Even if it meant a flight.
Q has heard rumors of the ... superhero? The spandex wonder? being used for this complex mission. There are absolutely no confirmations of it. That is until in walks Q, dressed in a suit, and spying the man under the mask. His own wide eyes blink in confusion. Talented and as good looking under the suit as his physique.
Now. What to do abut this. Q can't see anything particularly... terrible about the situation. What is he apologizing for? ]
What can you explain?
[ He asks with honest confusion as he too washes his face. After shedding his coat and rolling up his sleeves, of course. ]
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The seasonable heat has him uncharacteristically bare in tunic and britches alone, boots lined up neatly beside him on the grass to offer his toes the freedom of the air and sunshine. It's still rare to see him out of his armour. While duty had forced a token complaint from his mouth when he was told he was relieved of duty for the day, he had been inwardly grateful to be able to allow Percival to lead him off with a laugh and a come on, little Leon, before our king finds you something to do after all. Except that now he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.
Oh, he knows what the others are doing. He knows because he can see them from here. The lake is so beautiful and so rarely is it warm enough to swim in it that he can hardly blame them for taking the opportunity. And of course, he's grateful that while they seemed prepared to bodily throw him in the water to begin with, his protests once recognised as serious were taken as such.
Mordred raises an idle hand to swat at a fat bumblebee that wanders too close to his head. The peace and solitude is nice too, he supposes.
He's never wanted to learn how to swim anyway.
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But today? He's free. He is the first to shed armor and (most) clothes to jump into the water. Gwaine's never learned how to swim. Now's probably a good time. Percival, the giant, managed to keep him from dying. Really what else is the big lug for?
Eventually, however, even a newly free bird has to rest its wings. Gwaine takes the few extra steps up the bank to sit next to Mordred. Like most of the knights, he quickly took to the young man. Easy to tease, ready to fight, ready to do what is good. Not bad looking. Gwaine's kind of company.
"You're missing out on all the fun," he says casually as he lays down, ankles crossed and hands folded behind his head.
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( jehan )
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An excuse to leave would not be frowned upon. ]
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you're the reason i come home, my love