PSA: Stuff You Maybe Didn’t Realize You Can Back Up To AO3, And How To Tag It

Scarf?

Scarf: Your character or mine borrowing/stealing clothes from the other

|| The record shows that shiptastic fluff was asked for. Let the record show also that shiptastic fluff was delivered.

50’s housewife Alliance AU, which may be explained here and here.

—

Usually they just shrugged and tallied up how many times each had been the one to wear the dress. Two men living together had a tendency to get awkward questions in these times, and it was easier to pose as husband and wife than to constantly give the tired half-lie of childhood friends; and while they were tethered to hröar rather than fanar, both were sufficiently androgynous that they could pass as male or female. It was only fair to take turns.

But for spending one day in a new city, with no plans to return anytime soon, Sauron had absolutely no qualms about nicking Langon’s new dress.

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published the first new chapter of my ghost fantine fic in four years🎉

more ghosts whaaaaat

will never actually ''officially'' participate in nanowrimo because who's got the time. however, want to get back in the habit and therefore have made a little spreadsheet with graphs, and am actually writing again for the first time in months. numbers go up, brain goes wheeeee, story gets progress. feels good.

pxrnbot follows me the day tumblr enacts its new policy.

yeah, doesn’t look like much is gonna really change around here.

READ ON AO3 • 3,505 / 11,176 WORDS

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

~

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

part three: in which the dominoes start falling a little faster.

➥ kiefer sutherland as athos vs. michael wincott as rochefort - the three musketeers (1993) dir. stephen herek.

les amis au; they will burn you to the ground

it’s a bonfire, turn the lights out. i’m burning everything you motherfuckers talk about.  The papers call them ruthless. Dangerous. Criminal. Everyone knows them, everyone fears them. They consist of legends. Enjolras the fearless, terrible leader. Bahorel, a fighter who hasn’t found his match yet. Eponine, a girl so beautiful and so, so dangerous. Jehan, the pyromaniac who will light everything on fire and recites poems while he watches the city burn. No one knows how many there are exactly but everyone knows that you don’t fuck with Les Amis. They are good in bringing their point across, very good. They fight for what they believe in, literally, and they won’t stop until the city is in ashes.

salt about les mis bbc under the cut.

okay. i just gotta say, regarding the gifset where lily collins and david oyewolo are talking about the part where he as javert throws her as fantine to the ground. she lands badly, but she winces and continues acting in character, and the camera cuts away from him which is good because he’s horrified that he actually did throw her to the ground.

here’s the thing.

that was a little accident, right? that was an organic scene that happened between two actors.

pinches bridge of nose.

sighs.

theater is organic, because it is new every night. actors get sick and react differently to their understudies than the leads; the audience is particularly receptive or not receptive; maybe there’s a tech fail, or someone forgets to come onstage at the right cue; maybe someone accidentally falls into a trash can and ad libs the rest of a soliloquy from that new vantage point. the actors’ choices matter, but it is a live thing, so each person’s choices interact with things outside their control every single time. theater lives. it breathes. so do live concerts for orchestra, for singers, for comedians.

but nothing in film is organic, just like nothing in writing is organic.

these are created things, set in amber, preserved. these are not alive the same way that theater or concerts are.

there is a choice behind every movement. every element -- the lighting, the costumes, the sound, down to the last flicker of film and the last byte of noise, everything you experience in a film is something that someone decided specifically to do. it is a curated experience. it is inorganic. it is manufactured.

does that mean film is worse than theater? duh, no it doesn’t. but what it does mean is that you look at it for what it is: a series of choices carefully selected.

the accident of david throwing lily to the ground -- which, as we see in the gifset, he very clearly did not mean to do! -- existed organically.

but they had been doing a couple takes of it, as far as i can glean from the gifset. so there were multiple takes to choose from, including that one.

the director chose that one specifically.

this action happened organically, but it does not exist in the bbc miniseries organically, because -- i cannot repeat it enough -- the miniseries is a filmed entity, a manufactured thing, a made thing which consists solely of decisions within the creators’ control.

when i scream “WHY DID THIS HAPPEN” at my computer (or in the tags of a gifset), i am not screaming it at the actors. i am screaming at the director, who chose for this organic moment caught on camera to be part of the manufactured scene that happens in the tv show.

derailed

Langon/Sauron, holding hands even in their sleep \ o /

I will probably draw a shitton of these two don't test me this is my otp to end all otps

again, original design for Sauron is by reforgedmairon

@fantineweek 2018 - day two: gold.

once more we are going off the hapgood translation available here.

i guess i could technically put this under the “sacrifice” prompt, but ... i honestly think that her hair alone is its own category.

two things related to fantine’s hair which account for a lot of symbolism in her story: the fact that it is gold, and the fact that she sells it.

so starting off with the fact that it is gold --

i haven’t seen many of the movie adaptations -- in fact i am avoiding the liam neeson & uma thurman one like the plague, for probably obvious reasons -- but in lm 2012, and the 25th anniversary cast, we basically see that cosette’s hair color and fantine’s hair color is switched. the same thing will be true of the bbc miniseries. it’s basically only staged productions that i’ve seen that stay true to the book.

this bothered me for a while, and at first i thought the only reason it bothered me was because i am a stickler for details. marius ought to have dark hair, grantaire ought to be ugly, the barricade is on rue de la chanvrerie not rue de villette, musical, i don’t care if it doesn’t rhyme.

except ... well, hugo writes these things, even the smallest of details, for a reason. marius has dark hair because he is a Romantic, which is associated with melancholy, and you can’t very well have a byronic brooding sort of fellow with golden hair. and you can see the same care for details with his physical descriptions of grantaire, enjolras, éponine, et cetera. there’s an element of symbolism involved.

he writes the fallen woman, fantine, with long golden hair.

this being western society, and all the issues that it entails, blond hair is associated with not only beauty but purity. we give princesses like rapunzel and cinderella blonde hair; we give prince charming blond hair; we give stained glass angels blond hair. 

in the picture of dorian gray, oscar wilde gives dorian blond hair to emphasize the fact that he hides under an image of purity to conduct his evil deeds. he uses the trope of blond hair = purity to turn our character expectations upside down.

hugo gives fantine blonde hair, and tells us she is innocent; tells us she works hard; tells us she is good. then he shows us how society devours her, starting with her blonde hair. he uses the trope, and the expectations that follow that trope, to show the reader (who at that time would have been a bourgeois not unlike tholomyès or bamatabois) that despite her abasement, fantine never deserves what happens to her.

hugo is intent on hammering it into our heads that she never actually did anything wrong, and he uses her hair as a symbol for her purity and innocence.

she sells that pure golden hair herself.

-- which brings me to my second point.

in the musical, it is the wigmaker who approaches fantine. it is the wigmaker who tells her what pretty hair she has, and how much money she can make by selling it. fantine is reluctant -- she stubbornly digs in her heels at first, she is horrified by the prospect (and rightly so!). it is only the thought of cosette which forces her to accept the wigmaker’s offer.

i can’t find a picture of it, so let me describe what i saw at the us tour:

fantine, wrapped in a shawl, on the left. the wigmaker, stage center, a crone, hunched over -- and at the words “ten francs may save my poor cosette,” she raises her right hand in a slow arc towards the ceiling, holding her shears aloft -- the shears are open, the moment is predatory triumph, and as soon as the note ends she practically leaps upon her victim to drag her offstage.

this scene gives us the hungry jaws of society which devour fantine. it’s horrible. but the book gives us something even more horrifying, for all that it’s brief.

from “result of the success” :

One day they wrote to her that her little Cosette was entirely naked in that cold weather, that she needed a woollen skirt, and that her mother must send at least ten francs for this. She received the letter, and crushed it in her hands all day long. That evening she went into a barber’s shop at the corner of the street, and pulled out her comb. Her admirable golden hair fell to her knees.

“What splendid hair!” exclaimed the barber.

“How much will you give me for it?” said she.

“Ten francs.”

“Cut it off.”

within twelve hours of receiving the letter, she has willingly given up her hair for the sake of her child.

her hair: the symbol of her purity.

okay, pretend we’re talking about an actual human being and not a character for two seconds.

she is known, earlier in the book, as fantine la blonde. part of her identity is taken up by the fact that she has this glossy beautiful hair.

this hair falls down to her knees. her knees.

this? (source)

is a LOT OF HAIR.

and it STILL doesn’t even come down to the knees. this is maybe just over HALF as long as fantine’s hair is.

my hair used to go down to the middle of my back before i had it cut off in a pixie in 2016. so without realizing it i sort of did a mini fantine ... you know, sans the rest of the trauma that goes along with her entire situation.

my hair only went to the middle of my back. call that 2.5, 3 feet of hair total. it was long enough that if it was loose, it would get caught in my armpits if i wasn’t paying attention. (super glamorous, right?) i can only imagine what having hair like that ^ would be like, let alone hair that goes down to the knees. long enough to sit on, for God’s sake!

hair that long has to be maintained daily. combing it, washing it, drying it, making sure it doesn’t tangle, making sure it doesn’t get caught in things and snap off, getting rid of split ends. braiding it, learning different hairstyles, all the little accessories like pins and combs and brushes. it’s practically its own hobby -- and when we consider that this is the only pleasure left in fantine’s life, that she spends the entire rest of her day sewing piecework ...

i had my hair cut to a pixie and everyone in my life who knew me before the pixie cut went crazy over it. part of a woman’s identity is in her hair, and there are other writers more articulate than i am who will happily talk at length about how different hair lengths make society perceive you in different ways. feminine, masculine, whatever. i’m not here to talk about that part. i’m talking about how her hair, her long hair which was a part of her identity simply because of its length, is also a part of her body.

man, i got my hair cut to a pixie on purpose, because i wanted to and because i thought it would be a cute low-maintenance haircut. there was no emotional turmoil involved in that decision. i made it willingly, and i had been looking forward to it for a few months. yet even then -- even now, two years later when my hair’s grown down past my shoulders again -- i still miss having hair down to the middle of my back.

fantine has no time to contemplate that decision. she does not want to make that decision. she is poor, she lives off practically nothing, and combing her hair is the one thing left in her life that affords her some happiness. her hair is the only beautiful thing left in her life.

one thing the lm 2012 movie did right is it showed fantine’s face during the haircut, and anne hathaway looks like she’s a split second away from bursting into tears. there is an element of trauma here. i can only imagine that fantine spends a fair few nights crying over that loss, and she would be justified in doing so.

it’s after the loss of her hair that she falls into anger and bitterness. this was the last bit of joy in her life, and she has sold it away willingly.

nobody makes the decision for her that her hair is worth selling. nobody gives her a choice to make that she can decline or accept. she comes up with the idea on her own.

to take an image from little shop of horrors, she chooses to step into the monster’s mouth.

this is a literal way that fantine sells herself, months before she becomes a woman of the town. the way she becomes a prostitute is exactly the same: no pimp approaches her, no women in the chorus tell her she’ll make easy money. she comes to the conclusion herself, and she takes that final step.

from “christus nos liberavit” :

Misery offers; society accepts.