... Telling The Laws Of Physics To Shut Up And Sit Down.

final for my 2D foundation class. i wanted to approach the issue of society vilifying women for their sexual decisions. things may or may not change before i print them on sunday, idk. 

I was about to make an impassioned argument complete with bullet points for why Javert didn’t actually kill Fantine, except I already wrote a chapter in my WIP addressing that issue.

so here, have Fantine’s ghost giving Javert the lowdown.

Gavroche: Do you think i could fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Enjolras: You’re a hazard to society.

Bahorel: And a coward, do twenty.

"Unbind Me" (you pick who frees whom from what XD)

Leave a “Unbind Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about your character freeing mine, or the other way around, or something among the lines [be it freeing them from jail, from handcuffs, from a trap, from a curse, feel free to specify.]

—

He was just a dog, just a flea-ridden beast, but he was another maia too — Huan, that one of Oromë’s — and under the command of that elf witch he had ruined Sauron.

Blinded, insensate, enraged, terrified, he fled to Taur-nu-Fuin.

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finally pruned this blog down to less than 100 posts. I feel so clean and shiny and new.

[Em will write something.]

les mis au / the walking dead

several years ago, a zombie outbreak occurred and the world fell into irreparable shambles. almost all communications were shut down and since then many have lost hope of ever contacting loved ones. to survive, most people have broken up into small groups, but hostilities run deeply between survivors as they search out whatever supplies remain. jean valjean, after surviving the initial wave of chaos encounters a girl named cosette wandering the streets with a shotgun resting on her shoulder. because cosette had lost her mother recently and valjean also had no family left to speak of, the two decide to travel together at least until they find somewhere safe. they eventually run into enjolras and his unkempt group of survivors who have been scraping by in a small section of the city they have barricaded off. gavroche scouts out supplies, enjolras tries to make the difficult decisions for the group, and grantaire sits around with a shotgun and a bottle of whiskey. javert is a part of the remaining military force that exists in a heavily guarded base outside of the city limits. the military has attempted to “aid” the survivors behind the barricade, but it has long been suspected among the survivors that their true intentions are to line them up against a wall and shoot them, so they have not given an inch. it doesn’t matter so much in the end, because everyone is a carrier of the virus, and no matter how you die, you turn.

“ships: joly/bossuet/musichetta”

“joly/bossuet/musichetta (background)”

oh, and it's one thing to count the stars in the sky but it's another to count the bells in your laugh (all the music theory in the world cannot describe its resonance in my chest or the warmth it burns in my heart), for what can the stars give me that you have not already given, and given more freely? the stars shine bright but they cannot compare to the brightness of your eyes. I may see the stars inscribed lovingly on black velvet, a love song to the eternity of space and time, an inscription of the galaxies contained within the earth -- chasms filled to the brim with glittering multifaceted wonders -- but your eyes, your laugh, are worth more than any jewel. -- no. no, there can be nothing else but that laugh which contains within it all the joys the world can know. I would do a thousand foolish things to hear that laugh again.

to her: letters, i.