or alistair brammer
Let’s play a game.
Type the following words into your tags box, then post the first automatic tag that comes up.
when Jehan met Athelstan, this is what happened.
Tiny Jehan is the number one request I get (other than birthday requests) so, finally, here’s tiny Jehan!
Alistair Brammer takes over the Miss Saigon twitter feed, Day 1.
And by the way, if there is not a drabble written about Combeferre and a chicken by the end of the day, I’ll be sorely disappointed in you, fandom.SHOTS FIRED. Warnings for ridiculousness and terrible punchlines stolen from the Potato himself.Of the many things Combeferre considers beyond the area of his expertise, this is high among them. He’s no stranger to farmland or the animals that make their home in it, but he’s also no farmer himself, and wouldn’t know how to begin making a pretense of it even if he wanted to. Still, he’s never said no to a potentially interesting excursion, especially one so rare as this: the invitation extended by Bahorel, and based in daylight hours. The two children accompanying them—not Bahorel’s, he is quick to reassure at the sight of Combeferre’s blandly horrified stare, and really, Combeferre should have known better—scurry after Bahorel, tripping over themselves and him, squealing with delight and they rapidly become muddied and Bahorel gets even worse. Combeferre keeps a few safe paces back, deeply regretting his choice of clothing but not in any way the trip itself. When Bahorel comes to a stop near a small flock of yellow fluff with feet, the children somersault into each other and nearly into the birds, their progress only stopped by Bahorel’s instinctive, nick-of-time rescue. Bahorel doesn’t even blink; Combeferre squeezes his eyes shut. Somewhere in the middle the children squint and shriek and struggle happily in Bahorel’s grip until he releases them in the opposite direction, each taking a different side path around Combeferre’s legs as they tear off again.Combeferre’s still staring at them when he hears Bahorel let out a small oomph, and then suddenly there’s a lump of fluff pressed against Combeferre’s chest, its affronted little noise punctuated by Bahorel’s simple “Hold this.”
And by the way, if there is not a drabble written about Combeferre and a chicken by the end of the day, I’ll be sorely disappointed in you, fandom.
yes pls either one of you do a shirtless theatre guys photoset
I’m embarrassed to say I did one a year ago that didn’t even my two favorite barricade boys (Hugh and Killian), so we need a better one.
I just did a quick tally, and all I am missing I *think* are Gabriel and Stuart, who are both much too intelligent to be caught out fully shirtless, heh. Surely Purchase and Jamie could rise to take their place, though. *STEEPLEFINGERS*
We know there’s shirtless Purchase and Carter and Zetterholm and Sheehy out there, and certainly Mr. Muscato is quite fond of taking his top off. (And his bottoms too…)
However, we may break tumblr.
EXCELLENT. Also, I’m pretty sure there should be a barricaders picset created for the theme of OH PUT A FUCKING SHIRT ON. Release the picture-sniffing hounds!
Oh, I concur on that one (though you could do one that’s just Brammer — I think they now number in the double digits).
As a start here is the best version of shirtless croissant — the other two involve blood and vomit: