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Hakuna Matata

"Look, all I'm saying is that you need to loosen up a little, Inspector," said Joly, tugging at the man's sleeve. "Stop worrying about criminals for one minute."

Javert gave him a tired glare.

"You need to relax, hein? All this stress is going to do is wear you out, so that you'll be too exhausted to actually catch them. And who knows, you might actually like the opera. Give you something to hum along to when you're on a stakeout. I know it helps me when I'm studying for exams."

"No."

"Please?" He tugged harder. "Come on. No worries. Your paperwork will still be there when you get back."

The grizzled wolf let out a long-suffering growl before trotting after the puppy, who, upon discovering he'd followed, circled back to yip happily and leap up and paw at his ears.

"You'll have fun, I promise!"

He was sixteen again, and his mother was beating him with her belt, the one she used especially for beating him, and he had had enough dammit he was tired, he'd thought it was over, he'd thought he was safe --

what a stupid thought, safety was never an option --

and he screamed in anger and pain and lashed out, because what else do you do when you think you're safe but the world is lying --

"Marcel, what are you doing?"

And it was the name his mother used, and he hated that name, felt it coating him like slime and blood and he wanted it off he wanted to claw it off he would never be clean never --

but it was different this time, the tone gentle and distinctly masculine, and the arms suddenly around him were not in a vise to hold him down, but to hold him up.

"Marcel, you're safe, no one is going to hurt you, I'm here, it's alright."

somebody help me

chapter sixteen of Climbing to the Light is up!

or: the one where I fudge writing Quidditch, and shamelessly ship Marius’ mother with an original female character to boot.

A Girl Worth Fighting For

Combeferre still didn't have a mistress. Something Joly and Courfeyrac were intent on changing.

"Come on, Combeferre, I'm sure there's some girl out there who's just as smart as you are," Joly said, tugging at his arm. "Come to the theater with us. She'll be there. Whoever she is."

"She'll have glasses and a stiff posture and like to draw butterflies," said Courfeyrac, grinning. "And she'll love to discuss drama and philosophy. And you'll find her at Hernani, please, my friend, join us. You won't regret it."

Combeferre adjusted his glasses and harrumphed a little.

"Please?" said Joly.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll go see Hernani with you. But I tell you, this Romantic business of Hugo's is best left to Prouvaire."

everybody is talking about that theon and sansa moment during the song and yeah it’s cute but why are we sleeping on the significance of sansa, the lady of winterfell who every northerner appears to respect considerably, eating the same thing in the same place as the smallfolk?

she’s not handing out bread to win them over as margaery did, she’s not eating more than necessary like cersei did, and she clearly understands the importance of food accessibility during the winter unlike daenerys. sansa organised a food train, sansa organised enough rations to at least temporarily feed thousands of people and kept the doors open prepared to take on more. sansa is out there on the ground along with all of jon’s people emphasising the importance of sticking together regardless of titles or loyalties.

HAPPY EPONINE PROMPTS!: Eponine and Cosette being friends and getting into gardening-related shenanigans together in whichever happier AU setting you prefer (post-barricades? Valjean adopts everyone? Fantine raises Cosette in Paris? Anything!)

I don’t know that there’s enough Shenanigans here, but there IS gardening, and it’s post-barricades, and I hope I did this prompt justice even a little, because it’s a very very good prompt.

—

It took days and days, of Éponine’s wounds healing, of everyone waiting for Marius to wake up, of Cosette holding herself very straight and speaking very steadily while her hands shook, of Éponine raising her chin and sneering and then again flinching every time Marius’s horrid grandfather raised his voice, it took days and days, for the two of them to decide that they didn’t have to be enemies, at least, and then more days for them to figure out what that meant, and then.

Keep reading

READ ON AO3 • 3,025 / 7,671 WORDS

"Okay, let's go steal the Magisterium."

~

leverage s3 & his dark materials s1 ; alec hardison/parker/eliot spencer ; multichapter ; rated T.

part two: in which a conversation may be had about autonomy.

Say what you like. Plutonium may give you grief for thousands of years, but arsenic is forever.

Pollution, the 4th horseman of the apocalypse from Pterry & Gneil’s Good Omens.

READ ON AO3 • 3,097 / 14,273 WORDS

"Okay, let's go steal the Magisterium."

~

leverage s3 & his dark materials s1 ; alec hardison/parker/eliot spencer ; multichapter ; rated T.

part four: in which there is a little illumination, but not enough.