#les miserable fan fiction

[for-the-love-of-javert]

Javert fans, don't bite me for this, but........

I came across a post on tumblr this evening from a mental health blog and the details of the post got me thinking about Javert, his personality and they way he chose to live his life. As someone who is studying mental health with plans to eventually become a counsellor/psychotherpist I found it interesting and I'm wondering what other Javert lovers think of this idea.

I know Javert is a fictional character but I think this could be an interesting discussion subject. Also it seems less harmful imo to speculate about a fictional character than a real person. Do any of you think it's likely that Javert had Schizoid Personality Disorder?

I'm not sure and haven't researched into whether or not this would have been a thing back in the late 1700's/1800's. I just wanted to ask you guys what you thought of this idea. There was just something in the info about SPD that made sense to me when it comes to Javert and his isolated life away from his work, the fact that he had no real friends, no family and so on.

[wild-oats-and-cornflowers]

Heyooooo here is my offering for Barricade Day! it has nothing whatsoever to do with the events of Barricade Day! However, it is a fun little story imo and may offer a nice quick break from all of the murderdeathkill themes we do love to wallow in during this fandom holiday.

edit: s/o to @lafcadiosadventures whose fan art of Prouvaire and Bahorel holding what looks like a stake inspired this fic

[popcornoncemore]

I'm so sorry for cutting the deadline so close!

Here is my gift to the amazing @wilwywaylan for the Les Mis @drinkwithme-exchange 2024!

They requested Joly & Jehan, so here's a angst and fluff fix of them supporting each other through their struggles with mental health problems:

I just want to say that this exchange was amazing and that I was so honored to write for someone that I just love in this fandom. I hope that you like this!

Full work under cut: (tw raw chicken, panic attacks):

The morning started out as usual, a good day, a slow turn from night to day, Bossuet and Musichetta pressing a light kiss to Joly’s forehead, slightly interrupting the fog of his sleep. As their footsteps and hushed conversations retreated further into the apartment, Joly turned over once more in the bed and let himself drift off again.

The second time he awoke, Joly was much more alert. While he loved sleeping in, curled in the duvet that Courfeyrac had gifted them as a housewarming gift, cozy in the dappled light streaming through the curtains that had once belonged to Musichetta’s grandmother, it was hard for Joly to truly laze the day away. Spending too long in bed tended to summon a quiet yet incessant internal chatter about the merits of a rigid sleep schedule and the dangers of a lack of daily progress and simple movement, a nagging sense of conscious that refused to let Joly sleep past nine in the morning. Joly needed to start out on the right foot.

With the urging of the voice, Joly disembarked from the safety of his bed. Musichetta had left early to cover her coworker’s shift at the laundromat where they worked so that the other woman could visit her ailing mother. Bossuet, in a typical bout of his characteristic misfortune, had managed to do a great deal of damage to a neighbor’s fence the day prior in an incident involving Gavroche, a lawn mower, and approximately $15 worth of clear fishing line. Today, he had taken it upon himself to do the necessary repairs in hopes of smoothing things over with the disgruntled elderly couple.

This left Joly alone in the apartment with only his thoughts and the growing heat of the summer morning. Joly obeyed the near-instant urge to brush his teeth, making a beeline from the bed to the bathroom. When that was finished, he closely inspected his face, taking note of every new spot of acne and mentally listing off the names of the medicated creams that he needed to acquire. He tried not to pick at the spots, it would only make them worse, but it was so difficult when it made him want to crawl out of his skin. Joly then washed his hands, showered, washed his hands, put on moisturizer and sunscreen, washed his hands, dressed himself in a button-down and khakis, debated whether or not the day would be hot enough to give him heatstroke wearing a long-sleeved shirt, decided to change into a light-weight cotton t-shirt, and tried to style his hair which absolutely refused to lay correctly on his head.

Joly was overcome by a sense of dread as he tried to will his hair into place. He was not going to be able to get the results that he wanted, but he almost certainly was not going to be able to stop rearranging his hair until it was perfect. This devolved into hurried breaths and lightly pulling his hair. If Bossuet was here, he would have taken Joly’s hands in his own and told stories of his and Grantaire’s latest outing until Joly could get control of himself and move on to the next task. Today, Joly had to make do with imagining his boyfriend’s words and trying to manage his breathing. Joly squeezed his eyes shut and washed the remaining hair product off his hands, then quickly fled the bathroom before he could accidentally get a glimpse of his reflection.

Crisis averted.

Joly distracted himself with the daily cleaning, re-making their large bed and adjusting the incredibly large number of pillows that had been brought into bed by the culmination of Musichetta’s search for tasteful decor, Joly’s interest in the medical benefits of different shapes of pillows, and Bossuet’s near constant need to prop up one injured limb or another. Then it was a quick vacuum of the living room to limit the dust and potential allergens in the apartment, emptying the trash and recycling from every room, and reorganizing the perpetually undone shoe rack, lest Bossuet trip over a lose high heel coming in the door.

The next order of business was making sure to eat a hearty breakfast. As Joly checked the dates on all the food packaging in the refrigerator, he notices that the egg carton was empty. In general, there was hardly any protein in their apartment. Joly furrowed his brow. He was very tempted to resort to eating just a bowl of cereal and moving on with his day, but something inside him knew that that was a bad choice.

Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, he had to eat a balanced meal, or the rest of his day would be thrown off and who knew what could happen if Joly introduced that sort of chaos to his life. While he didn’t have class today, he was supposed to meet up with Combeferre to study. If he neglected a nutritious breakfast, his hands would shake while he took notes, and his attention span would be affected. It was only natural that the consequence of that may be failing the next test, putting him behind in the class, behind in his degree, and behind schedule. No, it was best to eat an appropriate meal.

Nothing in the refrigerator was suited to food that one would generally categorize as breakfast food, but Joly was willing to sacrifice that for nutrition. He opened the freezer, hoping to find some sort of meat that could serve as his protein.

To his disappointment, the only thing that he found was a bag of frozen chicken breasts. He cringed at the sight. It wasn’t that Joly wouldn’t eat chicken, on the contrary, Bossuet’s family recipe for lemon baked chicken was one of his absolute favorites; it was just that the idea of raw poultry was beyond revolting. In addition to its odd texture and appearance, Joly couldn’t help but imagine all the illnesses that could be caused by the raw or undercooked meat. In particular, the sight of the chicken brought up hurried thoughts about the dangers of salmonella and the image of a documentary he had once seen that tracked how the germs from poultry could be accidentally transferred about a cooking space.

There was an instant conflict between the voices in his head, debating the dangers of handling raw meat and not paying attention to nutrition. Joly desperately wished them to shut up but resolved himself to making a choice. He could cook chicken, people did that all the time and it was fine. He was being stupid, he couldn’t let his anxiety stop him from being a normal functioning person. Joly snatched the bag of chicken from the freezer, dropped it on the counter, and then immediately washed his hands.

Defrosting the meat was a nightmare. Joly removed the chicken from the bag with a pair of tongs, resting it on a plate, and then microwaving it until the it defrosted. When he took the plate out, Joly gagged at the sight of the raw poultry, sitting on the plate in a pool of melted frost and juices. He moved the chicken breast to the cutting board specifically designated for meat, leaving him with the disgusting plate of liquid.

He knew that he was supposed to dump it down the drain. It wouldn’t congeal like bacon grease and unfortunately, Joly lacked a way to incinerate it like food waste in some sci-fi film. But pouring it down the sink would contaminate the basin, the germs would spread when the water turned on, then there was no stopping the salmonella from moving to other surfaces. He put the plate down, it was a dilemma he would deal with later.

The next part was arguably the hardest. Joly had to cut the chicken into smaller pieces in order to properly seer it. How was he supposed to do that without directly handing the raw meat? With the tongs in one hand, he stabilized the breast, cutting it slowly with the knife in his other hand. It was going to be okay, it was going to be okay, he could do this, he had to do this. Normal people did this.

Joly’s trembling hand slipped on the tongs suddenly, the piece of chicken sliding across the cutting board and making contact with the hand that was still holding the knife.

Everything immediately went dark, then the color and sound and light and fear all rushed back into Joly’s perception at a lighting pace. God. God. It had touched him and… The knife slipped from his hand, narrowly missing his foot as it clattered to the floor. Joly whipped around in his panic as his breathing became more and more rapid. He made for the sink, but only managed knock the discarded plate of germs he had been avoiding to the floor, spilling its contents all over.

Joly was dying, there was nowhere to go. The situation was consuming him, he was going to pass out. His hands scrambled at his face, wiping through his tears to pick at the scabbing acne, scratching his cheeks with his fingers… His fingers that had just touched the chicken seconds before.

Oh god. His breathing got worse as he sank to the floor, to the puddle of yet more germs. He was going to throw up. He was going to die.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

There was a knock at the door.

Jehan had started their morning off noticeably poorly. Their melancholy was far past the point of being poetic, rather it was consuming and disheartening, destroying his creative thinking. While a passing phase of downcast and remorseful feelings was an important given in the life of a romantic, a rain spell that spoiled the weather but watered the crops, this was less of a rainfall and more of a tropical storm of sorts.

The morning sun was too bright as it cut into his bedroom, waking Jehan from their rest early. His body was sore for no good reason, as if his back had just taken a sudden disliking to the mattress, and the street outside was unusually loud for the time of day. The blankets had partially fallen off, leaving their legs cold.

Jehan did his best to right his mood, but to no avail.

From the bedside table, they pulled their current poetry journal, a beautifully bound thing that had been gift from Grantaire last Christmas. In an attempt to channel his feelings into something appropriate, they scribbled out lines of poetry onto the creamy pages of the book, scrambling to find a way to put a voice to the way he felt. Nothing took form from the words though, no matter what he wrote, the paper just became more and more marred by messy lines of bleeding ink. It was ugly, not in a way that inspired deep thought, but in a way that forced Jehan to angrily turn his eyes from the journal, to snap it shut and throwing it to the cluttered floor.

Getting dressed proved just as frustrating. Nothing fit right, Jehan’s body just looked incorrect in anything they put on. The limey cardigan that they picked to go over their floral-print sundress and stripped slacks itched in a way that made him want to just melt into a puddle on the bedroom floor. Jehan slumped and let himself lay down on the carpet, pulling the awful sweater off and throwing it as far away as they could. He moped on the ground, trying to reason with himself. It was silly to let this pessimism get them, but it seemed just as silly to blatantly ignore it. Why was this so complicated? Why did he feel so absolutely under the weather?

Rolling to get off the floor, they spotted the book they had discarded prior. He apologetically picked the journal up and set it back onto the nightstand, brushing off its cover with care. Jehan ran their hands through his hair, resisting the urge to pull at it and scratch at his scalp. They couldn’t just waste away on their bedroom floor, let themself drown in this floor of bitter sadness that was trying so desperately to sweep them away.

Using the last of his strength, Jehan dragged themself to their feet and promptly made straight for the door of the apartment. He couldn’t just sit here alone feeling bad for himself, letting himself drown.

He knocked on the door, but no one answered it. That was odd, Jehan could have sworn that Joly at least was home, it was part of the reason they had come here, apart from the fact that the apartment the trio shared was the closest to his own. Maybe he was wrong, of course, that would follow the pattern of the day. Maybe some of Bossuet’s bad luck had accidentally brushed off on them the last time that they went for drinks together.

Jehan shook off the thought. They were here to fight their pessimistic spiral, not feed it. He knocked on the door again, listening for the sound of movement in their friend’s apartment. Instead of someone approaching the door, Jehan heard what almost sounded like sobbing, muted, but definitely still present. Without a second thought, Jehan grabbed one of the spare keys hidden about the hallway in front of the apartment, placed there in the event that Bossuet left his keys on the counter, in a car, at work, or, on one particularly unfortunate occasion, at the post office inside of the package he had been mailing to Quebec.

Jehan entered the apartment warily. Someone was definitely crying, the sound clearer once inside, coming from the kitchen.

When he reached the kitchen, Jehan was met with a truly upsetting sight. Joly was alone, curled on the wet floor, hyperventilating and tearing at the skin on his face in a mindless fashion. It appeared that the other man had previously been cooking something, from the discarded cutting board, thawed chicken, and the shards of plate that were strewn across the ground.

Jehan approached him lightly, kneeling on the floor next to the man. “Joly, my friend, please listen to me. I am here to help. I heard your distress from outside and I simply had to come in. Let me help you. Here, breathe with me.”

They took Joly’s hands in theirs, pulling them away from his face. His friend did not quite register what was happening, but he didn’t fight the action. Jehan held Joly in his arms, slowly rocking him, speaking softly into his ear. Several minutes passed like this as Jehan helped his friend regain some control over his mind and body.

Any despairing thoughts that Jehan had awoken with took a back seat to helping Joly. “Joly, dear, tell me what is wrong? You do not have to deal with this alone. We’ll make this right, whatever it is. You are so very safe.”

Joly sniffled, then looked Jehan in the face for the first time since the other had entered his apartment. “The chicken… It slipped…” He paused, gagging a bit. “Oh god, the germs are everywhere, on the floor, on my hands, my face, on you! I was just trying…”

Ah, so that was what had triggered this fit of panic. Jehan surely wasn’t as familiar with the risks of raw poultry as Joly was, but he did know the basics of cooking and killing food-born germs. And knowing Joly as they did, the idea that Joly had panicked after accidentally coming into contact with the meat, and more importantly, his complicated thought process surrounding something he saw as a health hazard, was a fairly understandable one.

Jehan hugged their friend to them. “Oh Joly. I am so sorry, I know how much that sort of thing bothers you. It will be alright, I will help you.”

Joly frowned, another tear sliding down his cheek. “I shouldn’t need help. It’s just food, people cook all the time… I need to eat healthily, I should be able to eat healthily. I was trying to eat…” He breathed raggedly. “Everything is all wrong with me, I can’t cook, I can’t look right, I can’t relax or clean enough or even fucking feed myself correctly.”

He spoke desperately, like he was finally spilling a long-kept secret. Jehan’s heart hurt in their chest to see their friend lambast himself with such vigor, with such a belief in the cruel words he threw in his own direction.

“You, Joly, are perfectly acceptable as you are. I may not know all of the details of how you feel, but I do know that you aren’t a stupid man. You do not simply feel this way on a whim, or because you are lazy or incompetent, you always have reasoning behind it. You should not have to fight your own mind like this, but you so often successfully do so. There is no shame in asking for help or feeling despair, any man would become overwhelmed in your situation.”

“I just want my head to be quiet,” Joly pleaded softly. “The second I wake up it is like I am fighting with my own system of right and wrong, I debate danger and health and the thousands of ways to do something properly. I just can’t shake the feeling that I must follow these thoughts, but then they conflict and shout at each other and I slip up trying to do right by them all.”

Jehan nodded, listening to their friend while continuing to rock him gently. They ran a hand through his hair.

Joly paused in his rambling speech for a second. “I just want to feel something that isn’t this downwards spiral that ends in me crying on my floor like cooking chicken or brushing my hair is the end of the world.”

“I understand.” Jehan gave Joly a small smile. “I completely understand. It is hard when your mind works against you and it feels like you cannot escape this moment, the pattern of your thoughts that so quickly arranges itself into a maze. But you are not weak to feel this way, many people have to fight as you do against one foe or another. In fact, I came to your door today because I felt similarly trapped when I woke up this morning. It was like there was nothing I could do to chase away the dark feeling that the world was out to get me today, and I wasn’t up to the challenge. But I managed to come here, I found you and now we are together. And I know that while I am still simply melancholy and you are so understandably distraught, we will not fall victim to that vicious spiral. Let me help you, if the voices will not quiet, I will shush them most aggressively. And if that doesn’t work, I will sing over them so that at least you may hear something relaxing rather than demanding. Let me clean you up and help you back to your feet, I think it would do a world of good for us to fight our battles together today.”

Joly buried his face in his friend’s sundress, letting a few more tears fall. “Yes. Okay. Please help me to get out of this mess, it’s too much, and I feel faint even beginning to think about what may go wrong as a result.”

Jehan gave him a squeeze. “Of course, my dear friend. I will help you, for you have helped me so greatly already.”

Jehan had scrubbed down the kitchen, doing their best to meet Joly’s standards of cleanliness as they mopped, wiped, and bleached every inch of the room. The two friends then took as shower together, Jehan helping Joly to wash his face gently.

The clothes they had been wearing earlier all went straight into the old washing machine down the hall. One of the benefits of having all three occupants of the apartment share a room was that there was more space for some of the utilities that helped Joly to feel more sanitary and Bossuet to get the never-ending tie dye of stains out of his clothes.

They re-dressed in assorted clothing. Jehan pulled one of Bossuet’s zip-down hoodies for Joly, an easily removed layer in case of a sudden change of temperature. Joly brought Jehan one of Musichetta’s flowy blouses and a pair of his own plaid shorts. Jehan felt themself relax into the fabrics, their textures safe and comfortable.

Jehan combed Joly’s hair, and the two talked quietly about life; Bossuet and Gavroche’s recent run in with disaster, Grantaire’s (latest) blunder in front of Enjolras, Bahorel’s supposed mistress.

“Thank you for coming, Jehan.” Joly said the words as their conversation drifted into a pleasant silence. “I didn’t know that I needed someone today, but apparently I did.”

Jehan pressed a quick kiss to his friend’s forehead. “Of course. Absolutely any time. Thank you for being here. We’re going to be okay.”

When they finally set the brush down, Joly turned and crushed Jehan in a hug and the pair burst into laughter. When Joly finally released him, Jehan grinned at his friend in a way that seemed impossible only a few hours ago. “Would you like to go out to get some breakfast before you meet up with Combeferre? They say it’s the most important meal of the day!”

Joly smiled back, “Sure.”

It was looking to be a good day, it was only just getting started after all.

[weiwuxiankinnie]

I was writing a Les Mis retelling in a high fantasy world where there are some differences, some characters are POC or women for example. Marius is a girl, and he and Cosette are a lesbian couple. Enjoltaire would have a happy ending and be canon. The high fantasy world features a competition like Lightlark's but it's more similar to The Mirror Visitor (French book where magic really has no bounds, everything can happen, and the world is divided in different realms).

Being a retelling the characters can be very different, like there will be odd pairings other than the main ones. But I will include all of the Amis for example and we'll have a happy ending Eponine and an older Gavroche. Would anyone be interested in reading it? Because I could also post it in ao3 and use the real names of the novel.

[hyperfixationstation1]

Me when I read a fanfic that changes my perspective on love and circumstances around said love and I feel glad that the writer is speaking with internally motivated fascination!!! And the writer exists as the same time as me!!!!

[isilee]

confessed my deepest darkest secrets to my friends,,,,

the fact I discovered the front bottoms from a les mis fanfic

and of course I would be remiss not to link said fic here

[thermometermercury]

WE’RE SO CLOSE

[bethanydelleman]

How to “fix” Les Miserables

This is a random FF interlude.

I guess it isn’t shocking that I write fan fiction because ever since I was a kid, I’ve been imagining how to fix stories if they make me sad. Now full disclosure, I have only seen the musical and not read Les Miserables, but here is my solution to it.

Set up: A mysterious woman called Story Girl has the ability to teleport into stories and fix them. She can also teleport within story.

Story Girl enters the story the day Fantine gets fired. She reveals to Valjean that his overseer is a major creep and he gets dismissed. Then Story Girl convinces Valjean that the only way to set things right is to marry Fantine.

Fantine goes in her factory outfit and collects Cosette. She offers to take Éponine as well to get a job at the Valjean Factory. The Innkeeper and his wife demand everything that Fantine has, but as they don’t know she is now wealthy it isn’t very much. They let Éponine go too (because do we honestly think they care about her? I don’t).

Javert catches the fake Valjean, but instead of ruining his whole life to be honest, Story Girl just asks real Valjean for some money, jailbreaks Fake Valjean, and transports him to another region of France. He’s safe and has enough money to live on. Valjean is safe forever, and Javert can go crazy over how Fake Valjean vanished into thin air. Win/Win/Win

Valjean, Fantine, Cosette, and Éponine are all one happy family running a factory. Valjean no longer lives in fear of discovery and keeps donating his money to the poor and doing other great stuff. Fantine gets to live and have her reputation restored. Cosette and Éponine become real sisters and have awesome lives. Maybe one of them even runs into Marius, who knows. Valjean and Fantine have babies, maybe, his sexuality isn’t clear, so it’s up to him.

(I usually try to preserve the love stories, but honestly Cosette and Marius don’t even talk before they are all “in love” so I feel no compunction to preserve them. If they really have TRUE LOVE they’ll bump into each other somewhere).

FINIS! Les Heureux

[stardancerluv]

[enjolrasling]

I saw the Les Miserables US tour on Tuesday and am still IN MY FEELINGS about it, so here’s a random assortment of somewhat coherent thoughts/rambles/write up/review.

(Note: I saw the entire principle cast except Randy Jeter (who was out) and two ensemble swings. Andrew Marks Maughan was pulling double duty as both the Bishop and Combferre.)

• I didn’t know anything about Nick Cartell going in, but holy fuck, that VOICE. Tone is immaculate. Lungs of fucking steel.

• “Another story must beGINNNNNN” are you kidding me Nick. Who gave you the right to be this talented. Why is this man not more famous?!

• Preston Truman Boyd as Javert - voice is great, nice deep baritone. I wanted a smidge more from him acting wise though (this improved over the course of his performance).

• Nick and Preston sound phenomenal together, their voices work SO WELL.

• Haley Dortch has the voice of an angel and I loved her portrayal of Fantine.

• I appreciated that when Fantine was attacked/arrested all of the lovely ladies kept trying to stop it/help her. A nice staging touch.

• The whole transition into the courtroom was fantastic. Nick with that ending note of “Who Am I?” 🤯 I feel like I heard a few nods to Colm’s Valjean throughout Nick’s performance, this being one, which I appreciated on a cellular level.

• Confrontation sounded sooo good. It is a little goofy looking because Nick is so much shorter/smaller than Preston, which made the whole Valjean-as-stronger-man thing a bit silly. The blocking here didn’t do much for me. But what can you do. However! The “you’ll wear a different CHAInnn!” *cue Present with the chain hitting the stage floor* was fierce.

• It took a minute but Matt Crowle really won me over as Thénardier. Acting choices were 💯 without going over the top.

• There was a lot going on during “Master of the House” and it was a lot of fun, but also hard to catch everything.

• Gavroche was delightful. As usual.

• I’m not sure why Enjolras’ blonde wig was so bad, but it was really distracting. Devin Archer does a very decent Enjolras, but man that wig was not doing him any favors.

• Marius’ entrance was forgettable. I think this was more a staging issue than a reflection on Jake David Smith maybe? All the students kind of looked the same at this time. I had a hard time telling Les Amis apart all night, honestly. Except for Enjolras and Grantaire, obviously, which brings me to….

• Kyle Adams. You freaking fan-servicing national treasure. Cards on the table, seeing reviews of Kyle’s Grantaire was the single biggest reason I decided to catch this tour, and I was really, REALLY hoping to see him in the role. I did not think anyone would ever come close to eclipsing Hadley as my R of all time, but Kyle is right up there in his orbit. Omg that scene stealing little shit. He really put his all into “the drunk one”. Blowing the kiss to E at the end of Red and Black. Continually slapping people with his coat jacket. The dick-bottle in Enjolras’ face. Constantly goofing around with Gavroche. It was all gold. I really appreciate an actor who’s done their homework, and Kyle is very obviously well versed in both the source material and the rabid E/R fan fiction. His performance is a love letter to the fans - to those of us who have cried over the brick, who have watched every musical version we’ve been able to get our hands on over and over again - and I love that for all of us.

• Anyway, back to “Red and Black”. Devin is great, really brings the sassy Enjolras energy. Marius is….kind of forgettable again. Sorry, Jake. Enjolras when he grabs that flag…Devin is really serving.

• “Do You Hear the People Sing” was wonderfully rousing, as always. One of my favorites forever. The transition to the streets was very pleasing. Again, Devin with that damn flag. I might end up shipping Enj with the flag as much as E and R, he’s that passionate with it 🤣

• Delaney Guyer was a perfectly pleasant Cosette. No criticisms, I just haven’t really ever cared about Cosette much as a character. Her songs do very little for me. But Delaney was lovely.

• Mya Rena Hunter as Eponine was somewhat “meh” for me. Her vocals are killer and “On My Own” got one of the biggest ovations of the night, but I didn’t love her acting choices. Or maybe lack there of, it didn’t seem like there were any. I dunno.

• The staging/choreo for “One Day More” was really entertaining. Much better than the underwhelming marching I saw in the 2012 production. Devin serving sassy, dramatic Enjolras with flair and a rifle is a whole ass mood.

• I fucking love the barricade set. Seeing Les Amis climb all over that thing is such a moment. Enjolras literally leaping off the set multiple times. Dude gets AIR.

• Gavroche flipping off Javert was an audience favorite.

• “A Little Falls of Rain” was underwhelming. The staging was a bit awkward and there was no scene chemistry between Jake and Mya. I really wanted to feel something. I didn’t. Just eh.

• “Drink With Me”, on the other hand, was so wonderfully emotional. Kyle’s stying of R’s verse is an angrier, grittier interpretation and I’m sooo here for it. Enjolras goes to console him and R pushes him away. The pain feels so real.

• “Bring Him Home”….Nick. Fucking. Cartell. I have no words. He cast an absolute SPELL over the theater. His breath control is super human. His last “home” note went on FOREVER. Absolutely phenomenal. Hands down best version I’ve ever heard live. Biggest ovation of the night.

• Gavroche’s death 😭 So sad, so well done. It was very striking how he was shot just as Enjolras’ hand reached up for him as he returned. The timing, the lights, sound everything was excellent. Then he crumpled onto E’s shoulder. E handed his lifeless body to R, who was just devastated. I love the relationship they created between Gavroche and R this production. The entire build up of their interactions made this moment so poignant and believable.

• Christopher Robin Sapp really took his 5 seconds of National Guard Officer/Loud Hailer time and absolutely slayed it. I want to see more of this guy in the future.

• The choreo of the final battle was very satisfying. I totally missed Marius getting injured and just mistook him for another student because again….Marius was just not catching any of my attention this tour, lol. The frantic moment between E and R in this scene was so raw and well done by both actors. R reaching for E’s face, clasping hands so very briefly. Ugh.

• Then E with the flag again. This scene is so striking and Devin gives it EVERYTHING. Then R climbing up after E once he gets shot and falls off of the barricade. The way it takes a few moments for R to die after being shot and Kyle freaking Adams makes sure the audience knows it…

• I was lucky enough to see a production with the revolving stage back in the day and I’m really glad I did, because the reveal of Enjolras’ body hanging upside down off the other side of the barricade with the flag is one of those theater moments that will haunt me forever. Enjolras’ lifeless body in the cart just doesn’t have quite that same punch, but it’s timed very nicely with the music swell, and the way his body shifts/almost falls out of the cart when it’s carried away again is quite effective.

• Ok so the sewers. That was cool. I felt like this production used just enough of the screen to really assist the set design without relying on it too much. It worked really well for the orchestration and gave depth to Valjean just dragging Marius across the stage 3 times.

• Thénardier dragging in that corpse by his ankles for “Dog Eats Dog” lol. Matt really showed up for this scene. I think he did a good job of dipping into the “comedic” aspects of Thénardier as well as balancing the really rotten parts - this was a really great rotten part. I thoroughly enjoyed his turn as the infamous innkeeper.

• Javert is such a little drama queen.

• “Stars” was A++++. One of my forever favorites anyway, but Preston took this song to church. Also, I do NOT remember this staging, if it’s what I saw in 2012 (I don’t think so?!) and holy shit. I was not expecting what they did, which got quite a few gasps from the audience. The falling/floating/reaching while holding that last “ONNNNNNN” was a fucking MOMENT. Props to this production set up. Major props to Preston. Just wow.

• The transition from “Turning” to “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” was beautiful, and I love love love the candle choreography. When Les Amis blow their candles out….ugh 😭 This number was a bit of redemption for Jake David Smith, who until now had kept slipping into the background. I found his Marius to be a bit uninspired and unrecognizable for the most part. He did not bring much of a presence to the role until this moment. But his vocals were great here, and the anguish felt genuine.

• I don’t have much too say about “Beggars at the Feast” because I was too busy watching no one but Kyle Adams as Major Domo for the entire scene 🤷🏻‍♀️

• But omg the change of Thénardier’s lyrics from “this one’s a queer / but what can you do?” to “this one’s a queer / I might try it too” and then he dips that random wedding guest dude was a giant yes from me.

• Finale left a touch to be desired blocking/staging wise. I remember feeling that way with the 2012 production as well. Les Mis is just such a powerful musical, I feel like it deserves a bigger ending than basically everyone just standing in two lines behind Cosette and Marius. The cast’s vocals made up for the lack of production though. Truly so, so good.

• In conclusion: Nick Cartell has an otherworldly voice and Kyle Adams is the Grantaire we all deserve. I am so, SO glad I got to experience this cast.

[musicalmoritz]

Hello💕

My name is Roxy. This blog is mainly for my rambles and shippy posts (not mutually exclusive). I am a writer on ao3 under the same name as this account. I’m just here to put my thoughts out into the world like an open diary, and to reblog cute shit💞💞💞

Fandom Interests:

• Current Hyperfixation- TBHK

• Other Animes (in no particular order)- Hunter X Hunter, Chainsaw Man, Fruits Basket, Madoka Magica, Kakegurui, Jujutsu Kaisen, Bungou Stray Dogs, My Hero Academia, Cowboy Bebop, Ouran High School Host Club, I’m In Love With The Villainess, Sk8 the Infinity, Adachi and Shimamura, Banana Fish, Demon Slayer, Mob Psycho 100, Spy X Family, Vampires In The Garden, High Rise Invasion, Kyo Kara Maoh, Kase-San and Morning Glories, Haikyuu!!, Death Note, Attack On Titan, Neon Genesis Evangelion, and Full Metal Alchemist

• DC Comics, mainly the female characters and anything related to the Teen Titans/Batman. I’ve been in this fandom for years due to adaptations but I’m relatively new to the comics themselves. Currently reading Batwoman's New 52 run and anything Cass Cain related I can get my hands on

• I do like Marvel but like mainly Spider-Man, the X-Men, and Black Widow. I'm refraining from posting about it for the time being due to the boycott

• I'm a big filmbro, my top 3 movies of all time are Dead Poets Society, Pride & Prejudice (2005), and American Psycho

• Classic lit is my favorite thing to read (aside from fan fiction). Currently reading The Idiot by Dostoevsky

• I love listening to musicals, my top 3 being Les Miserables, Falsettos, and Spring Awakening

• Some shows I like are Breaking Bad, Glee, Stranger Things (not posting due to the boycott), Gravity Falls, First Kill, Bly Manor, I Am Not Okay With This, The Middle, Adventure Time, Modern Family, Merlin, Doctor Who, and probably others I can't think of rn

• I'm really into classic fairytales🦋

• As far as music goes I am a critical Swiftie. I also enjoy Fall Out Boy, Marina, early Panic! At The Disco, Megan Thee Stallion, Nirvana, David Bowie, Stevie Nicks, and various other artists

• Some other fandoms I've been involved in include It by Stephen King (all media types), Twilight, Percy Jackson (boycott), The Hunger Games, Marauders, Camp Camp, Archie Comics & Sabrina, Dan & Phil, Hellaverse, Homestuck (save me), aaaaaand I think that's everything??

• My favorite piece of media of all time is Les Miserables, especially the book and the musical. I love it with all of my heart and it truly changed the way I live my life as well as my outlook on the world and religion💕

• My favorite character of all time is Dazai from BSD, I adore his character development and all the subtle details that add to his characterization💕

• I enjoy analyzing and yapping about my interests so expect a lot of that

Other Interests:

• I am a psychology major with an AS degree in psychology

• I practice wing-chun, though I am still somewhat of a beginner (white belt, my si-fu makes his students earn them)

• Writing is my passion and I have been working on my own novel for many years now. It is meant to be a three part series but I don’t want to publish the first book until it’s perfect

• Proud Cat Mom

• Being an older sister is like 50% of my personality

• I am a lesbian and a Christian and both of those identities are very important to me

• Believe it or not I am employed, though I won’t say where for obvious reasons💪🏻

• Raging Feminist

• Antique collector

• Complainer, not a hater

• Optimist

• Lover of all things pink

Again, this blog is really just a side quest, I’m much more active on TikTok so you might want to follow me there (femslash.enthusiast / #1 aoinene lover). I’m just here to yap about my interests and spread good vibes💕

[teeth-cable]

The stella hate she received is too much and this is the twisted thing i see, they compare stella to amber heard an actual real life victim of abuse. Amber heard this woman who speak up about being abused by her husband johnny depp what does she get death threat, harassment, bullied, mockery , etc. Stella this character is so demonized that a lot people don't ever think she's a sentient being with emotion too

If we look at historical context often the female royal member are often seeing baby making machine. Only a few female royal member become leader in the monarchy system often it's male royal member. The systemic sexism if the husband of royal famliy cheat the wife get in trouble and consider failure of her marriage. That means stella she's very disadvantage

1. Stolas cheat she consider to be failure not stolas

2. Stella doesn't play any important role her role is just sit there and looking pretty

3. She is disposable after fullfiling her role now the system consider her useless

4. Her noble rank her parent definitely want their status to be elevated so of course they choose stella

5. Often woman in this system get abused and they put in really high standard

And stolas. I'm sorry people are so desperate painting him as not like the other royalty who's relatable, kind, down to earth, no he's not even closed to that. The writer fail that part i seen character who's royalty actually use their privilege for good

Example : Zuko (avatar the last airbender), Elena(Elena of avalor), sofia(sofia the first), Charlotte le bouff( Princess and the frog), Elle Woods(Legally blonde)

In question did stolas use her privilege for good? All he did use to exploit blitzo and use that for he's own benefit. Vivziepop you know diana spencer can be used as one of your inspiration right? Diana spencer princess of wales this is an example of royal family member use her privilege for good

She break the stigma people who have hiv and aids, she actually interact with other people who have different status from her, she care about people well being, because of that a lot people liked her. After she died people also remember and sadden by her death

How about let's not compare real life cases of abused victims to the abuse fictional characters are suffering from a poorly written demon show?

Exactly, that's what fans are not understanding either. The critical community doesn't pity and empathize with Stella because we see her as this harmless angel but because she is also a victim like Stolas is of Hell's monarchy system. Whether fans want to admit it or not, Stella would absolute take the blame for the marriage failing, not Stolas. Stolas has an important role to do, they wanted a heir to HIS throne, and to quote HezuNeutral from their, Helluva Boss Continues to Circle Spiral video,"If Stella was infertile she'd be screw" because her only purpose in this system is to give birth. It's frustrating that Stella gets reduce to a black and white villain instead of a morally gray one because Viv doesn't want to be nuanced about the affair but even more frustrating, she can't even do her role as a villain right because not only is Stella, terrible inaccurate rep of domestic abusers but also because she is so dumb that she needs her brother to point out when Stolas dies, all of his things would be inherited by Octavia and not her. As if (I'm assuming) one of the actual reasons why she stayed in the marriage was because she like spending his money and what caused them to be so miserable was she and Stolas were arranged to give birth to an heir!

Stolas isn't good either, he still treats imps like shit, using his butler as a stressed toy, talking down to imps, it's just he “acts" less racist towards I.M.P.

[chuck-ridderodder]

Primary thoughts on The Left Hand of Darkness

I've just finished Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, which if you haven't read, I believe a spoiler alert is in order for this post.

After reading The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas and subsequently devouring the Earthsea Cycle, I have become an avid fan of Le Guin's work, both in fantasy and science fiction. Though I can't help but feel as if I am somehow late to the party in that regard.

This is not to be a full review of The Left Hand of Darkness, as I do believe in letting a book percolate on the brain before passing judgment; however, I do want to share some immediate thoughts.

By God, she can paint a whole society in few strokes. Both Karhide and Orgoreyn are as vivid to me as Venice or Austria (places I have yet to see, but have been related to me by friends and/or acquaintances). Grand cities, quiet villages, and the icy cold of the Gobrin Glacier are impressed upon the reader with the lightest of touches, never breaking the illusion and serving the characters as vivid backgrounds.

I found chapters 15-19 of particular interest. The rythym of the story seemed to change here, and Le Guin takes her time letting Estraven and Genly Ai crawl towards Karhide across the bitter wilderness. The time stretches for the reader as well as the characters, some scenes being repeated from both perspectives.

I believe in these chapters we are more dialed in to the characters' thoughts and feelings, peering closer and closer into the nature of their relationship during their journey. They formed a habit, a routine, monotonous and yet comforting in the simplicity of their mission.

Genly Ai describes how he feels about that time in this passage from the beginning of chapter 18:

"We are inside, the two of us, in shelter, at rest, at the center of all things. Outside, as always, lies the great darkness, the cold, death's solitude. In such fortunate moments as I fall asleep I know beyond doubt what the real center of my own life is, that time which is past and lost and yet is permanent, the enduring moment, the heart of warmth. I am not trying to say that I was happy, during those weeks of hauling a sledge across an ice-sheet in the dead of winter. I was hungry, overstrained, an often anxious, and it all got worse the longer it went on. I certainly wasn't happy. Happiness has to do with reason, and only reason earns it. What I was given was the thing you can't earn, and can't keep and often don't even recognize at the time; I mean joy."

Joy. Despite the pain, cold, and weariness Genly Ai describes a feeling of joy. What is the source of this joy? He doesn't exactly say. He deems this period in his life as the center, a theme that comes up in earlier chapters dealing with Gethenian mythos. The center of ones life, the center of time, etc.

Just before being rescued by Estraven he is trapped in a work/death camp in Orgoreyn, which he will surely remember as the worst time of his life, the most miserable. That is not deemed the center, or the most important. It's the warmth of the tent, the seclusion on the ice, and the forging of the companion-bond between he and his companion that Genly Ai cites as the center. A bond that is quickly (spoiler) broken when Estraven dies.

They are not romantically involved, nor sexually. They just work together, they survive together.

I think that extreme of a situation is not one that is easily come by for any reader. However, at least for myself there are a few memories that I could deem the "center" of my life as it stands today. These memories somewhat echo the experiences of Genly Ai and Estraven. One in particular was an afternoon spent alone with a friend before we parted after graduating from university. We cried, and lay in the sun in my empty dorm room until the sun drifted towards the horizon. I felt an intense bond to this person, and even today can picture that tiny room, the sunlight through the window, and the color of their eyes. I felt (at the time) that I was in the center of time. The center of my life.

In some later passages Genly Ai recalls specific details about Estraven's hair, or the smell of the tent that feel oddly familiar to how I experience memories that I've carried with me. Maybe I don't recall the conversations, but I'll remember certain details forever.

I'm not exactly sure how the comments/messages works on Tumblr.com yet, but please let me know your thoughts if you have any differing opinions or notes. I would love to discuss this book! Again, it's quite fresh to me so I am still settling on my opinions etc.

[mimsylost]

jojo’s bizarre adventure taking reference from classic fiction is so .. good

phantom blood blatantly referencing bram stoker’s dracula..

Giorno’s favorite fiction being Les Miserables..

And Araki himself noting that he’s been a long fan of Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and tried to take suspense into his manga

[bugflies00]

are you french? are you sometimes miserable and sad about fictional characters? Boy have I got the thing for you! Have you heard of Les Miserables ? Both the book and the musical

Anyway yeah Les Mis is very fun I recommend :)

anon im very grateful for the recommednation but im afraid ive been Not Normal about les mis for quite a while now... but im glad i fit the fan type description LMAOO

[samanthamarkle92]

Hi! Welcome to my Writeblr! I love to write stories and love it when people read them! I write as @SamanthaMarkle92 on Wattpad and Inkitt as @samantha1665!

I am a bit of a nerd; theatre, superheroes, fantasy-adventure novels (read all of the Redwall books!), Poldark

I'm in the process of writing a shared-story world post-apocalyptic series! The first book Thier Scars is available on Wattpad and Inkitt! It's Cargo and The Last Of Us minus the zombies with a watered-down Mad Max: Fury Road.

I've written fan fiction for Les Miserables, BBC hospital drama Holby City, and Poldark with elements from both the tv show and novels.

I knit, crochet, read, and cook! So looking forward to sharing my work!