#Hugo’s Exploits

[strawberrywinter4]

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Rating: General Audience

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson, Greg Lestrade

Notable Tags: 101 Dalmatians AU, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Kissing, Domestic Fluff, bubble baths, Cuddling & Snuggling, Period-Typical Homophobia, Action/Adventure, Minor Violence

Summary: Sherlock and John took the liberty of moving in together. And I am absolutely, completely ecstatic about it. I mean, why shouldn’t I be? I brought them together.

Ever since the incident in Regents Park, they’ve begun to court each other. And my pet, Sherlock, was the one to ask him out! (Quite clumsily, I must say.) However… I was certainly confused about what type of date they ventured on. I expected Sherlock to invite him to a cup of tea, maybe some dinner, but no. He asked him if he’d enjoy coming along to solve a murder with him. And John said yes! Apparently, John is a military man and he “misses the danger.” I knew Sherlock would like him.

Read here!

tags:

@a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @sabsi221b

@totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee

@whodwantmeasaflatmate

(please let me know if you don’t wish to be tagged or if I haven’t tagged you, if you’d liked to be tagged. thank you!)

[hyperfixationstation1]

90% of Les Amis have never worked a customer service job like no wonder they’re “for the people” send post

[la-pheacienne]

I feel like I understand people's blorbofication of Javert because I get why someone would really cling onto a complex (male) antagonist with a traumatic past whose entire life is a lie and who kills himself when he reaches that final moment of realization. It is absolutely tragic, and it is easy and natural to cling onto that, we've all been there. But you need to understand that two things are in motion here: the first one is Javert's individual tragedy, and the second one is the broader system he personifies. He's a symbol. His primary function in the narrative is to personify the hateful, bigoted, cruel, inhumane legal system that intervenes after the fact and crushes all those that society has already put down. He, the incarnation of that bourgeois legal system, delivers the final blow. He finishes off what society started, and he does it with joy. When we say that he killed Fantine, it's not even about Javert the individual per se. It's about the entire system he represents. That system killed Fantine and Javert is its flesh and bones. Fantine was a poor girl that was exploited and let down by society in every single way and when she was herself a victim of actual physical violence, the Law, personified by Javert, instead of protecting her treated her like an animal, dehumanized her, humiliated her. The Law was scandalized that a woman like her dared attack the bourgeoisie. The Law was horrified that such a disgusting creature got medical care because she should just drop dead on her street. The Law rejoiced in tearing down her sole protector. The Law prevented her from getting her child back from the con artists that have been stealing her for years because the Law doesn't care about the crimes committed against marginalized people. That's not its function. Its function is to use its discretionary authority in order to dehumanize and punish people that ended up on the wrong side of the street.

So when you come at me with nonsense that Javert "didn't tEchNIcALLy kill Fatnine", "he was just rude", "he was just bitchy", "he just stole her final happy moments", respectfully, you don't know what you're talking about. Javert absolutely killed Fantine. He's not the only one who did but he eagerly and enthusiastically precipitated her execution, and that is the entire point Hugo is trying to make. Your arguments against it are nothing but a mere technicality that stems from the fact that the individual's actions technically do not qualify as manslaughter. It's as if we literally had an individual at court and we were thinking of whether or not to condemn him for manslaughter. It's not about that. It's not about your blorbo and his sadness. Your blorbo has a whole other function in the narrative. You have completely missed the mark of the entire book and you have let your personal emotional attachment for a character prevail over Hugo's main argument about the structural punitive violence that literally kills people. Javert being the product and the embodiment of an entire system that exceeds his individuality does not mean that, as a police officer, he's not responsible for his actions or their consequences. On the contrary, he's precisely entirely responsible for the structural violence committed against Fantine, that's what "embodiment" actually means, that's what we mean when we say that he personifies that system. Absolving Javert of his crimes goes directly against the themes of the book, because while systems operate above individuals by definition, they need those individuals to function. The system needs Javerts. Javerts are everywhere around us, yes even today and it is important to hold them accountable for their crimes. I can't believe I have to explain this tbh.

[pilferingapples]

this is an invitation to infodump. i would LOVE to hear the thoughts you have on beggars at the feast, should you want to talk about them

AUGH ok ok let's see how well I can articulate...anything

OK so first: In the Letters server lately we've been talking a bit about how , in the book, Thenardier is WAY more the Human Nemesis than Javert is. He shows up earlier than Javert does; he's able to be a threat in ways Javert can't be, and to people Javert can't and wouldn't even try to touch ; he shares a TON of paralleling symbolism and class-blurring roles with JVJ; he's the last Personal Threat remaining in the novel, and the last thing we hear about him is that he's not only thriving , he's committing worse atrocities on a grander scale than anything we saw in the book, and getting nothing but social approval for it.

Thenardier is a nightmare, and he's triumphant, and as such he's a condemnation of society in an equal and opposing way to Jean Valjean. Valjean's story (and Fantine's , and the Thenardier siblings' ,. and the Amis , etc) says "look what we're destroying, look at the actions we punish". Thenardier's ultimate triumph as a literal slave trader flips it around and says "look what we support, look at what we endorse, look at what we elevate and approve." (now within the book I could take this farther , I could point out that the only thing within the novel that breaks any of the miserables free of their oppression to any degree is crime of some kind, be it revolution or theft or Being an Accomplice or exploitation, and the only thing that costs the (relatively) privileged their security and power is to truly ally with the miserables, but !! I'm talking about the musical)

In the musical Thenardier is softened a lot. Like... a LOT. The Thenardiers' exploitation of Fantine is barely mentioned ; their violent abuse of Cosette is turned into a joke; their abuse of Eponine is minimized (and their other kids are either Not Appearing in this Play or not obviously connected to them) ; and that final doomstrike epilogue, Thenardier becoming a slave trader, is gone. He's no longer the primary and most dangerous human antagonist; as in many other adaptations, that's now Javert.

So there's a different arc but it's there : From Master of the House and the Robbery , when he largely comes across as a gross but funny Comic Villain ; to the Attack on the Rue Plumet, where we finally see a bit of danger to him; to Dog Eats Dog, where he is really just acting on the same philosophy we saw in MotH but now doing something most people have a more immediate revulsion to, and the mask is really off; to , finally, Beggars at the Feast. If Beggars at the Feast is done RIGHT, This is Where The Villains Win.

They've gotten knocked around, sure, but they've also just gotten a ton of money, and, if done right, they are either blending in with the society party or, in the best staging * , they end up leading the dance. It's Master of the House all over again, only this time we're not being invited to laugh along with Thenardier's "band of soaks" ; this isn't the dregs of society, an easily stigmatized lower-class punchline.

This is Society, capital S Society, and they're just as ready to go along with him-- MORE ready to go along with him, even, because at least some of his inn customers usually get to be affronted and argue a little, but arguing with him risks some Unpleasantness, and isn't everything in Society so pleasant? Isn't it nice here, at the party? Let's not argue with the openly hateful people singing about how they want to destroy us all; look, they're dancing and singing! Let's just follow their lead. Won't that be nice.

And without getting into modern politics just because it's ALWAYS so current and I could never update the references frantically enough, I'll say that this is where Stage!Thenardier most echoes those Book!Thenardier Napoleon III vibes. Hugo knew what this dance looked like. He fell for it at one point.

(and hey, maybe it even raises some unease in audience members who laughed at MoTH and the child abuse and the Robbery without thinking about it-- maybe some people realize Oh Shit, We Fell For It Too. Not necessarily, but maybe?? ) And so it's fitting that it's this scene that has IMO a very clear sense of the book's incredibly specific political message ("Parisians, France, Please Overthrow Napoleon III, Probably With Barricades" ) , albeit in reverse. The Thenardiers gloat "Clear away the barricades and we're still here!" -- to them, a brag on how they endure all the changes around them.

But also implying: don't clear away the damn barricades. If you don't want the Thenardiers to run the show , help shore up that furniture wall and fight (for a modern international audience, this is probably going to be Not AS Specifically Involving Barricades).

So yeah. I'm not gonna say it's the most important song in the whole show , but it's important in ways I rarely see critics or commenters notice.

...Or it's just a funny musical reprise and you can have the Thenardiers be immediately thrown out of the wedding as frauds bc hahaha the poors thought they could play with their betters, good thing we're all so much smarter and cooler than that in the upper crust. That's fine too.

yes I have opinions; also I'm Correct

[secretmellowblog]

There’s a fandom joke about the Waterloo digression not mattering to Les Mis, but I really love how all of Volume 2 takes place in its shadow. It’s strongly emphasized how everything is happening in the wake of these massive conflicts and wars.

The Ship Orion, where Jean Valjean is working as a convict, is a warship being used in the Spanish invasion. Now that Napoleon has been defeated, the French monarchy is sending their army to Spain to help violently assert the divine rights of the Spanish kings. The republic is dead, the empire is dead, and now it seems that monarchy will control France (and Europe) for a very long time.

The way that Madeleine “falls” and his town collapses without him feels like an echo of the fall of Napoleon.

Then, we reach “The Seargant of Waterloo” inn— where Thenardier has built his entire life on leeching off the legacy of Waterloo.

He made his initial fortune robbing the corpses at the battlefield, and now boasts/lies about having been a brave sergeant of Napoleon who rescued a general. He seems to worship violence and is desperate to enrich himself by exploiting anyone he can; he has all of Napoleon’s negative qualities, without any of his positive ones. Victor Hugo once insulted Napoleon III (the guy who exiled him) by calling him “Napoleon the Small”— and Thenardier feels like he could be a reference to that.

Outside of Thenardier we see other patrons of the inn talking about the Spanish wars, Napoleonic soldiers going to a fair to see a bird with coloration that reminds them of the tricolor flag, etc etc etc.

There’s this constant feeling of ordinary people existing under the shadows of this massive war, and its really fascinating to read!

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 4

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5 , Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments.

Thank you for your continued encouragement! ❤️❤️❤️

After a half-hearted attempt to watch the tennis tournament, you, Hugo, and Eddie retreated for afternoon tea.

"Me? The criminal organization in this country want me?" you asked incredulously.

Eddie nodded, casually adding sugar to his tea, with Hugo mimicking his actions. "They're still trying to figure out who you are. They won't ask Barnes since they despise him. They've made inquiries, but your identity remains a mystery to them, given your recent arrival."

"What about you, Eddie?" you inquired.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he sipped his tea. "Hmm?"

"Why didn't you expose me to them?" you clarified.

Eddie set down his cup, meeting your gaze directly. "And let them exploit your expertise? You're too valuable for that, my dear."

The endearment caught you off guard, evoking memories of summers spent at Manor with Eddie's parents, particularly his mother, who often referred to you as "My Dear" during afternoon tea. But when Eddie used the term, it carried a different weight.

Eddie continued, "I faced a similar situation last year. This organization is far more dangerous than most people realize, even those at the UN dealing with cross-border issues."

"True," you agreed, contemplating the chaos of the criminal underworld. "The real zoo is here. But what about your organization?"

"My cannabis business remains neutral in conflicts," Eddie explained. "Even in our silence, there are those who seek to undermine us."

He paused, then offered, "If you want to join forces, you could. You could easily settle the debt."

The air hung heavy with the implications of his proposition, the tension palpable as you considered the possibilities.

"No," you interjected firmly.

Hugo finally joined the conversation, shooting Eddie a defiant glare. "My dad paid a high price to cut ties with cannabis."

You were surprised by Hugo's sudden assertiveness, especially considering his awareness of Rupert's dealings.

Eddie chuckled, unfazed by Hugo's challenge. "I could see you as a Duke in the future."

But before the tension could escalate further, another voice cut in, catching you off guard.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Are you cheating on me in broad daylight?"

You tensed at the sound of Bucky's voice, turning to find him standing beside your table, impeccably dressed in Ralph Lauren, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

"Can't I have a day without seeing your face?" you retorted, unable to hide your irritation.

Bucky feigned injury, clutching his chest dramatically. "Ouch."

Eddie intervened, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What are you doing here, Barnes?"

"I wanted to try tea time. Felt like a royal for a change, but the cake tasted like shit," Bucky quipped, oblivious to the disapproving looks from nearby tables and the waitress.

"Well, I just wanted to say hello and meet the Duke of Horniman. Say hi from me to Bobby Glass, will you?" Bucky continued, his smirk never faltering.

Eddie's smile turned sour. "I won't."

"Great," Bucky replied casually, turning his attention to you. "Wait for my call, Your Grace."

You responded with a curt, "Fuck off."

Hugo nearly choked on his drink at your blunt retort, while Eddie struggled to contain his laughter.

Unfazed by your harsh words, Bucky simply bowed and took his leave.

Eddie glanced at you, his expression sympathetic. "I can see what you're dealing with."

As you drove back to the manor with Hugo, his voice interrupted the tense atmosphere inside the car. "Can we switch our ride?"

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "What's wrong with this one?"

Hugo's enthusiasm was palpable as he explained, "My buddies have got green cars, red cars, even yellow ones. And get this - their car doors pop up like wings when they open!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his excitement. Seeing him like this, he seemed more like a kid dreaming of his favorite toy.

If Rupert weren't neck-deep in debt, you'd have no qualms about splurging on Hugo's dream car. But for now, you couldn't bear to crush his hopes. "Yeah, sure. Once we're done here, we'll get you one."

As you drove back to the manor with Hugo, you delved into a conversation about Rupert's work.

"You know a little about Rupert's work?" you inquired, curious about your stepfather's business.

Hugo nodded thoughtfully. "All I know is, dad wanted to quit the cannabis business because of Charles."

His mention of Charles brought a warning to mind. "Don't ask anything about weed with Bro Charles," he cautioned.

"Why?" you asked, intrigued by the sudden seriousness in Hugo's tone.

Hugo shook his head solemnly. "Ask Mom or Charlotte."

"Fine," you conceded, understanding the need for caution.

Upon your return to Evergreen Manor, you inquired about your mother's whereabouts from the butler. Learning that Susan was out shopping with friends, you sighed in frustration. With no one else to turn to, you realized you would have to seek answers from Charlotte.

Entering the living room, you spotted Charlotte engaged in a live conversation with her followers. It was clear she was preoccupied. "This will take a while," you muttered to yourself, bracing for what lay ahead.

Four hours later, Charlotte's hostility lingered as she addressed your inability to come to a conclusion on your own.

"Can't you figure it out on your own?" she snapped, arms crossed tightly as if she couldn't bear to share the same air as you.

You sighed, bracing yourself for another round of her disdain. "No, I can't. I've been out of touch with everyone for the past 15 years," you admitted, resigned to the reality of your isolation.

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Charlotte gestured for you to follow her. You trailed behind her to the barns, where an out-of-place container caught your eye.

As Charlotte swung the door open, a wave of nausea washed over you as the unmistakable scent of weed filled the air.

"Weed," you muttered, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.

"Dad was making extra money with this, but he wanted out because of Charles," Charlotte explained, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"Why?" you pressed, eager to understand the full extent of the situation.

Charlotte remained silent for a moment, her expression guarded. "This is why you should at least read the emails that Mom sent you, even if you don't want to reply," she scolded.

Her words struck a chord, and you listened intently as she revealed the shocking truth. "Charles overdosed," she continued, her voice heavy with emotion. "We almost lost him. The doctors said he was brain dead. It's truly a miracle that Charles could come back alive. That's the reason why he became a priest."

The revelation left you speechless, your ignorance laid bare before you. "I had no idea," you whispered, grappling with the weight of the revelation.

"But now you know," Charlotte replied, her tone softer. "And you understand why my dad cut off all contact with anything related to drugs."

Charlotte's words hit you like a punch to the gut, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.

"What did you say?" you demanded, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"If you never came here, none of this would have happened," Charlotte muttered, her gaze heavy with accusation.

You bristled at her insinuation. "None of that is my fault," you retorted, feeling the weight of her words bearing down on you.

Charlotte's voice was laced with bitterness as she continued, "Your existence changed Charles."

You recoiled at the truth of her words, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Charles's feelings for you had always been a taboo topic, one you never dared to confront. It explained so much—the distance, the tension, the unspoken truths that lingered between you and your family.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, even though you knew deep down that you were not to blame. "I didn't even ask to be born," you muttered, a bitter reminder of the unfair hand life had dealt you.

The tension crackled in the air as you and Charlotte locked gazes, each refusing to back down from the confrontation.

"You can't blame me for Charles's choices," you snapped, your frustration boiling over.

Charlotte's eyes flashed with resentment. "I'm not blaming you for his choices, I'm blaming you for existing!" she shot back, her words like daggers aimed at your heart.

Your jaw clenched as you struggled to contain your rising anger. "Well, I'm sorry if my existence inconveniences you so much," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's not just about inconvenience, it's about ruining lives!" Charlotte spat, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Ruining lives?" you scoffed, incredulous. "I didn't ask for any of this! I didn't ask to be the reason Charles spiraled out of control."

"Maybe not, but you're still the reason!" Charlotte's voice rose with every word, her frustration reaching its peak.

You took a step closer, your own anger boiling beneath the surface. "And what about me? What about the life I've had to live because of all this?"

Charlotte's expression softened slightly, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. "I know it's not fair to you either," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Then stop blaming me for everything!" you pleaded, the weight of years of resentment and guilt bearing down on you.

"Stop it," Susan's voice cut through the tension, her breath heavy as she approached.

Both you and Charlotte halted, the argument stalling at Susan's arrival. She hurried over, concern etched on her face as she reached Charlotte, who appeared flushed.

"Are you alright?" Susan's voice was laced with worry as she checked on her daughter.

You felt a pang of resentment, knowing that despite being her biological child, Susan often treated Charlotte as her own. It stung, a constant reminder of your place in the family hierarchy.

As Susan tended to Charlotte, you clenched your fists, a surge of frustration coursing through you. You turned away, unable to bear the sight any longer.

Walking away, you pulled out your phone, dialing a number with shaky fingers. "Where are you?"

Inside the car, you and Bucky sat side by side, watching the second target intently. The bomb had already been discreetly placed under the car, and now it was just a matter of waiting.

Bucky's voice broke the silence, filled with genuine awe. "Damn, watching you do your thing is like watching Picasso paint."

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to downplay your talent. "Yeah, turns out anger can make me completely focused."

Bucky let out a low whistle, his admiration evident. "Well, color me impressed, sweetheart."

As you both observed the target, a man stumbled out of the club, clearly inebriated. His drunken antics drew attention, and he shamelessly flirted with every girl he encountered, much to your disdain.

"What's the reason for him?" you inquired, unable to hide your distaste for the man's behavior.

Bucky's response was simple yet cryptic. "Someone just really hates him."

Moments later, the target climbed into his car, oblivious to the impending danger. Without hesitation, Bucky pressed the trigger.

'BANG' The explosion echoed through the night as the car erupted in flames, sending shockwaves through the surrounding area.

'KYAA!!'

The chaos erupted as the explosion sent shockwaves through the crowd, eliciting panicked screams from bystanders.

"Too bad the wedding will never happen," Bucky remarked casually, his tone laced with dark amusement.

Your heart sank at his words, a sense of dread settling over you. "Huh?" you muttered, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

Bucky's pointed gesture toward the burning car made everything click into place. "He's your step-sister's fiancé," he explained bluntly.

A wave of guilt washed over you as you realized the ramifications of your actions. You cursed your ignorance and lack of foresight.

In frustration, you turned on Bucky, your voice trembling with anger."Next time, how about a little warning before we go blowing up someone's bloody ride?"

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@xcaptain-winterx

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@freshlemontea

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@ordelixx

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mostlymarvelgirl

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

@charmedbysarge

@rebeccapineapple

@almosttoopizza

@cakesandtom

@njavezan

@thealyrs

@emerald-writes

@fantasyfootballchampion

@sjsmith56

@bellabarnes1378

@valhalla-kristin

@learisa

@choppedgalaxynerd

@terrormonster55

@haciendoquemeamas

@alysianc

@sapphirebarnes

@identity2212

@greenarrowhead

@mannien

@surazim

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Hugo Lowell at The Guardian:

Donald Trump’s transition team is planning for all cabinet picks to receive sweeping security clearances from the president-elect and only face FBI background checks after the incoming administration takes over the bureau and its own officials are installed in key positions, according to people familiar with the matter.

The move appears to mean that Trump’s team will continue to skirt FBI vetting and may not receive classified briefings until Trump is sworn in on 20 January and unilaterally grant sweeping security clearances across the administration. Trump’s team has regarded the FBI background check process with contempt for months, a product of their deep distrust of the bureau ever since officials turned over transition records to the Russia investigation during the first Trump presidency, the people said. But delaying FBI vetting could also bring ancillary PR benefits for the Trump team if some political appointees run into problems during a background check, which could upend their Senate confirmation process, or if they struggle to obtain security clearances once in the White House. The putative process for obtaining a clearance in the first Trump administration involved the White House’s personnel security office relying on an FBI background check to decide whether to grant one. The background check initially looked for untrustworthiness or red flags that could be exploited by adversaries.

If the initial checks against law enforcement databases uncovered no issues, applicants were granted an interim clearance while deeper investigations continued until it was advanced to a permanent clearance. The current Trump plan appears set to bypass that initial stage.

[...] Trump’s team have long viewed the process with suspicion, arguing that it was pointless to have government employees have the ability to recommend against granting a security clearance given Trump has the power, as president, to ultimately give clearances to whomever he likes. Trump himself has repeatedly railed against the FBI of being part of the “deep state” conspiracy to undermine his agenda.

Trump Transition Team endangers national security by delaying FBI background checks until after he takes over the remaking of the FBI in his image.

[cliozaur]

Regarding the absence of sex and adultery in Les Misérables: In July 1845, Hugo was involved in a huge scandal when two officers of the law found him and his married lover Léonie Biard engaged in compromising activities in a rented flat. They both had to face a trial, as adultery was still a crime. However, only Léonie was found guilty and imprisoned; Hugo, as a pair of France, did not face any consequences, except for reputational. To be fair, he was embarrassed and felt guilty about it. Eventually, Léonie was released from jail quite soon. According to some researchers, Hugo’s response to this embarrassing episode was to conceive a moralizing story about a saint.

However, Bellos claims that it is not so, and the only impact of the “Biard affair” on Les Misérables was “to write about everything except that” [meaning sex].

Les Misérables is unusual among nineteenth-century French novels for not talking at any point about adultery or even sex. Its main characters are celibate: Valjean never marries, falls in love or has relations with a woman; Javert likewise; and the only mistress the idealistic Enjolras entertains is Patria, the feminine Latin noun meaning fatherland. Marius and Cosette are virgins before their marriage, and although Gillenormand likes to boast of amorous exploits in times gone by, he doesn’t indulge himself in that way in the course of the novel’s action.

[vanessalocke]

tell us more about your Dover. It seems interesting how you portray them both

One of the things that makes my Dover different from some people's Dover is my perspective on France and England.

Most people I've met think of France as someone who likes to flirt, has many girlfriends, is promiscuous and easy-going. Such a badboy meets a tsundere who is cold on the outside and warm on the inside, causing him to change. No, I don't think of Dover as an "I can fix him" trope as such.

France is the country of love. When I reflect on the "country of love", I don't think that France is a s3x addict who likes to play a double game. What is love? Platonic love isn't love? Isn't friendship love? Isn't love for life love? No, all of that is love. Love is not synonymous with lust.

And then, I realized, France's nature is: a person who cannot live without ideals. The ideal that "because I was born into this world, I have a responsibility to this world". The ideal that "because I have suffered, I will help others so they don't have to suffer like I did". The ideal that “Love each other dearly always. There is scarcely anything else in the world but that: to love one another.”, as Victor Hugo wrote. That is "love", what makes France who he is. It's humanitarianism, it's love for others, it's love for the world. Even if he were beheaded, he would still love the people who beheaded him, because he saw the suffering inside them, because he understood that they were human beings. And to him, how beautiful humanity is.

And in that beautiful world, there is a sharp emerald, wild but thirsty for love: England.

Most people think of England as a tsundere. I'm not sure. I also think he's a tsundere, but not everyone's tsundere. He doesn't blush easily, he's not gratuitously violent. Tsundere by my definition is much more bitter than that: he never admits that he loves France, but he has loved France with his whole life.

England, in contrast to France, is a very bitter person towards the world. He and the world are always at odds with each other. France was born in a fertile and sunny land, but England was born in a dark, damp, foggy land. He struggled with poverty and cold since childhood, so his nature was very pessimistic and wild. He is not close to his relatives, so he does not know how to express his feelings. He really hates life.

But in that world he always hates, there is the person he always loves: France.

England is always pessimistic about people, but France always thinks positively about people. England said: "Human nature is originally evil.", and France said: "Human nature is originally good.". England is a capitalist and will exploit his workers to the last penny, but France will be the one to give to the homeless to the last penny in his pocket.

France always feels that England is lonely, so he is always by England's side to make England feel that there are still people in the world who care about him. France considers himself responsible for making England happy and comfortable. France also feels that England's rationality is admirable and has helped him avoid many bad situations.

England always laughs at France's idealism, but at the same time secretly admires those behaviors. He thinks that France is a dreamer, unrealistic, but he also silently swears to himself that he will protect France's dream. Every time England sees France, he sees hope for humanity. For England, France is the last ray of hope in the world.

However, along with his admiration, England is also very bitter towards France's displays of love affection for him. Because England thinks that France loves the world so much, does France's heart still have room for him? Meanwhile England is a very selfish person. He only wants France to look at him alone, not at anyone else. Therefore, he never told France "I love you". He doesn't know how to express love, so he will attract France's attention with irritation, anger, by disrupting France's relationships, by robbing France's merchant ships, by mocking France. Annoying is England's expression of love.

France always thinks that England is a ferocious, crazy person. And England's madness dragged France into one trouble after another. Not knowing when, France became obsessed with England, attached to England. If France takes just a few steps away from England, a storm (which can come from England or from the outside world) will push France back to England. England was one of the few people who saw France's splendor, as well as France's most humiliating, embarrassing defeat. Next to England, France doesn't have to pretend, and France can cry if he wants. England is the only person crazy and strong enough, so that when France is lost in the darkness for a thousand years, England is still determined to run into that darkness to find France. England's solid (albeit violent) presence became the anchor that kept France's soul from going astray.

That's why, they hate each other more than anyone, they understand each other more than anyone, they are obsessed with each other more than anyone, and they love each other more than anyone.

Or there is another way to put it: Dover's love story is actually a love triangle. England loves France, France loves the world, England and the world hate each other.

And the reason why England became so angry at France's confessions was because France looked like he was confessing to England but in reality he just wanted to say "I love the world, I love everyone.". It looks like your crush is confessing to you but actually he's confessing to the guy you hate (the world).

Arthur doesn't want that. He wants Francis to be his b*tch and only his. He'll kill whoever takes Francis from him. That's all.

[myemuisemo]

Is there an 18th century manuscript in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? This is the question that opens chapter II of The Hound of the Baskervilles, this week's Letters from Watson.

I have been distracted by the long-s, which appears in manuscripts from the 17th through early 19th century. If Mortimer's manuscript was printed, there are numerous rules that apply to use of long and short s. But surely it's handwritten? In that case, the long-s would appear only in double-s combinations. There are 16 such in the manuscript. I resisted the urge to try formatting the text to see if any of them would appear near a fold, peeking out of a pocket.

Since there's a period of more than a century when long-s is commonly used, Holmes must also be drawing conclusions from the paper, or the shade of the ink, or the style of the handwriting (or printing?).

“You have presented an inch or two of it to my examination all the time that you have been talking. It would be a poor expert who could not give the date of a document within a decade or so. You may possibly have read my little monograph upon the subject. I put that at 1730.” “The exact date is 1742.” Dr. Mortimer drew it from his breast-pocket. 

That "or so" in Holmes' boast is doing a lot of work.

Since the document refers to Lord Clarendon's work, which is The History of the Rebellion and Civil Wars in England (written 1646-8, published 1702-4), the Great Rebellion must be the conflict between royalists and Parliamentarians that led to the execution of King Charles I, the Commonwealth under Oliver Cromwell, and eventually to the UK becoming a constitutional monarchy.

"Godless" Hugo Baskerville sounds like standard demonization of the royalists as debauched and corrupt. However, since Baskervilles apparently held their land consistently through the entire period, they may also have been good at either playing with whatever side was winning or keeping their heads down.

Hugo is neither a nice nor a good man, so there's a certain glee in his being struck down by a slavering hell hound.

In contrast, Sir Charles Baskerville possesses "amiability of character and extreme generosity." His fortune made in South Africa was, nonetheless, derived from exploiting native peoples -- unless he was running a sugar cane plantation in Natal, in which case he likely shipped in indentured servants from India to exploit as workers. (I'm being terse because British colonialism in Africa was an endless pit of awful -- and also heavily romanticized in literature -- and I'm on the verge of ranting into topics where I may have details blurry. The Guardian has a piece.)

The two ethnic groups Mortimer and Baskerville discussed as "comparative anatomy" would today be San, foraging people who rejected British efforts to turn them into farmers and who... oh bloody hell, were deliberately hunted with approval of the government. The other is the pastoral Khoekhoe, who raised sheep and cattle. Did the British colonies try to enslave the Khoekhoe as labor? Of course they did.

By the standards of the day, Sir Charles Baskerville was not a prime candidate to be haunted by his conscience, nor by hell hounds, though.

I'm not even touching Murphy the traveler, whose testimony is suspect due to drink. Argh.

Surely Sir Charles' tip-toe stride was running? But what of his facial contortions? I feel immediate distrust for Mr. Stapleton, based on nothing but James Mortimer's liking him.

The list of people I wouldn't mind seeing eaten by a hell hound is growing. How long will it be before Holmes unravels who really did what to whom?

[pommunist]

This is mostly gonna be just a rant but it just baffles me how everything Qstudios has done since the beginning of the admins situation is a terrible pr move. So yeah this is just gonna talk how, even if you forget the immoral and potential illegal stuff that went on, I don’t think their strategy is doing any good for the studio’s image.

-Going radio silent publicly and privately : Kinda the original sin of all this mess tbh. This obviously just leaves the space for the ex admins to share their stories, even more so since they have been ignored privately beforehand when they tried to handle things internally. This also allowed for the union to publicly intervene and more ccs talking about it, and actual news article being made on it.

-Leaving the server open : Tbh I get wanting to leave it open, maybe to allow minecraft centered ccs to still make content or maybe because it’d be weird to close it right after new people got in but also I think it would have be better to close it temporarily while they focus on the changes they promised rather than having it getting deserted little by little until it feels like a ghost town. This + also not a good look to have so many npcs online when Q said there would be none until things get better (The current npcs are likely non volunteers, once again not a bad or illegal thing per say but not a good look). Closing it would also have made it so that the reopening would have been a big and probably positive event.

-Welcoming new ccs/new languages : This might just be because of scheduling necessities or whatever and something they couldn’t do later but it still made the community go :/// to get new people while on the flip side you had parts of the fandom leaving because of what was happening. Also not great for the new arrivals to start in such a weird climate, without admins help and with few people online on the server.

-Releasing merch at the worst time possible : This might have been something they couldn’t change, just like the arrival of the Koreans/Hugo, but it still isn’t a good look for them to release egg merch after it came out that some of the egg admins were poorly treated, especially when they haven’t stated clearly that benefits from the merch would go towards paying staff. It’s also not a good look for them to release new discounts every day, barely ten days after release. (Also the Qstudios Twt account retweeting every egg figures announcement except for Pomme will never not make me laugh)

-Making the twitter updates accounts active again : Yes it may just be that they’re using a bot or that it’s the people who are in charge of the Qstudios twitter account posting on it, both of which are not wrong per say. But of course people are gonna wonder if it’s new people being hired, of course speculation will happen when there’s a lack of transparency, of course ex admins are gonna be upset when it seems like things are continuing as if nothing happened, when they were fired without a warning, a thanks or even a sorry.

And now we have the two points that are kinda in a « you fucked up so bad it’s almost funny and I almost feel bad for you guys » category

-« Hey guys out of all the people we exploited and treated poorly you know which ones we’re gonna make eat dirt the most ? Hell yeah the ones that are from a part of the world who literally have a whole cliche about them complaining and rioting for anything and everything. Also happen to be the same ones whose community we alienated for months by sidelining them. Also happen to be a community who, during this time, has grown quite close to our most active community (who are themselves quite mad at us by now) to the point that they are making memes about the two of them being in love with each other. Yeah surely this can only go well »

-« Oh no, people actually really care » : QSMP Fans in general just loved and appreciated all the work the admins did, whether they were twitter admins, builders, actors, writers… This is even more true since the situation also revealed that some admins things people have been most critical on (lore being weirdly interrupted, french being ignored…) were not these admins fault. And of course, you have the eggs admins case. How do you make viewers and ccs alike get SO attached to these kid characters, as if it was their children, while mistreating the people playing them and not expect this to blow up in your face at some point. It’s like you managed to catch lightning in a bottle and then left it to rot thinking this wouldn’t end up badly. Weirdly this one makes me kinda hopeful bc Qstudios kinda HAVE to fix it or else they lose on of their main selling points.

[viviennevermillion]

flowers for an aching heart

✧ notes: day 2 of my "autumn remedies" event! if you liked this fic, consider reblogging and commenting! here's some useful information on how to recognize abusive behaviors in relationships. stay safe y'all!

✧ synopsis: gepard learns of your abusive past relationship and promises to always treat you with consideration and care. 1.8k words

✧ now playing: pink medley — kurt hugo schneider

✧ warnings: mentions of past abusive relationship, aftermath of emotional abuse

To Gepard, you were the most beautiful flower he had ever laid eyes upon. He'd smile at you when you weren't looking, just watching you idly go about your day beside him while asking himself how he had managed to end up with you. He felt lucky that he was privy to your love. After all, through the hardly intelligible stammering and blushing when he had asked you out for the first time, the chance had been there for you to just not understand what he was trying to convey to you. You had told him once that the bouquet of flowers he brought to you that day was pretty much the tell-tale sign that he was attempting to ask you out. Now that he got your affection and love everyday, he hardly remembered what it was he was so worried about. Although, that didn't stop him from getting flustered about it anyway.

At first Gepard had thought that you were shy, just as he was. But as more time passed with him being your partner, he found that that didn't quite fit the bill. You always seemed cautious, as if walking on a tightrope around him. He didn't know what to do to make you realize that he'd always be there to catch you when you fell. You chose your words carefully; always checked back with him whether there had been something you said that had upset him. He just shook his head. "I would tell you if there was anything, promise", he had reassured you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

To you, the love that Gepard gave was anything but self-evident. You've known love that was selfish and exploitative. Escalation and affection that spun an endless cycle, sucking you dry of emotion like a vampire who'd leave you to bleed after they had gotten their fill. You knew now that what you had experienced was but an abstracted distortion of the concept of love and you knew in your heart that Gepard was different. But unlearning that was hard. You tried your best to trust him and you only really noticed you had been tiptoeing around his reactions again when he seemed a little lost about your overly cautious nature.

Probably even more than he did, you too yearned for a love that didn't leave you on edge and you knew that being with Gepard was a step into that direction. He was kind and considerate. He'd always make sure you were alright; would check that you weren't too cold or uncomfortable or overworking yourself. You knew, rationally, judging from everything you had learnt about him, that he didn't expect anything in return; that your love wasn't currency for your freedom and safety. But you supposed that was simply part of the journey. Knowledge needed time to arrive in the mind of the individual and often even longer to settle in their hearts. You'd get there in time. You just hoped he hadn't enough of you by that point.

You knew Gepard was a patient man. Perhaps an amount of patient that astounded you and left you to wonder whether it was just your warped perception; an ideal of him that you conjured up in your mind. You were used to the world around you burning; always a little bit. Sometimes sparks would quietly rise from the wreckage; other times you had been caught in the eye of an inferno. But now that the fire was out; what was there ahead? Where should you start in this unfamiliar world?

You were so lost in your thoughts that Gepard's voice behind you caught you off-guard and you promptly dropped the flower pot that you had been holding. It was a rare seed that hadn't been seen in Belobog for 700 years during the Eternal Freeze. The plant had recently been imported by IPC merchants, but it was still quite hard to get one's hand on. The shattering sound echoed through your ears right into your head and you felt your heartbeat quicken. You remembered how excited Gepard had been about obtaining this plant. It had been growing steadily for about 3 months now and he had been really proud of how it turned out.

You made a mistake. The scars on your soul told you that mistakes would rekindle the fire; reignite the pain. It was why you were careful; why you'd tread lightly wherever you went. The world was burning again in this moment and at the same time the eternal cold was creeping up your skin, leaving you to shiver and freeze, only waiting for what would come next.

Gepard turned his head to you from across his small greenhouse abruptly, alarmed at the sound. He looked a little disappointed about the broken plant but the feeling immediately faded when he noticed the tears in your eyes which you yourself hadn't even realized were there. Gepard put the flower he was holding down gently and made his way over to you. With each step he took, you grew more afraid of his reaction. But instead of getting mad, instead of blowing up like a ticking time bomb, the man you loved simply took off his comically oversized gardening gloves so he could cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears away with his thumb. His delicate touch and the honest and loving look he gave you felt like it was about to burn your skin, yet it felt soothing.

"Hey... don't cry", he whispered quietly and pressed gentle kisses to your skin. First the tip of your nose, then your cheek; until his lips eventually met yours in a sweet kiss. Your lips trembled under his and you felt relief wash over you. And yet, somehow that made you cry more. It felt a little embarrassing, even though that was far from how your boyfriend saw you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, feeling a little lost on what to do. He sat down on the floor of the greenhouse and opened his arms to you. "Come here." You listened and sat down between his legs, letting yourself melt into his arms. You took a few deep breaths and closed your eyes, the world seeming to stop for as long as Gepard kept holding onto you. His embrace was one of safety and protection and sometimes you cursed yourself for forgetting that. But old habits died hard. "Can I ask you a question...?", Gepard seemed hesitant and you knew what conversation this would bring, "I've always noticed that sometimes you seem on edge around me... especially since we started dating... and I keep wondering whether it's something I did. Please tell me how I can make you feel better. I want to make you happy, that's all I really want." You spotted that familiar blush on his face.

This time it was your turn to press a soft kiss to his lips, which seemed to catch him by surprise and just made him even more flustered. You knew he deserved to hear the truth from you, to understand that he didn't do anything to upset you. So you told him. You told him of your previous relationship. How this person had made you scared and hesitant; made you afraid of messing up. How you had lost sight of the parts of you that you liked the most and instead became a people pleaser, at least for a little while. How they made you doubt your perception. First it had been the relationship, then you slowly had started to question your capability for accurate judgement even outside of it. You felt unsure, unsafe. Stuck on a tightrope and only one gust of wind away from falling. You remembered the nights in which you had found it difficult to rest. How you had felt ridiculous and embarrassed of things you had previously been proud of.

Gepard listened attentively. You mused that perhaps, now that you let it all out, you went on a little bit of a tangent. You just hoped you hadn't scared him off. Gepard took your hands into his and looked into your eyes with a sincere expression. "Thank you for telling me... I understand now", he whispered and gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb; hesitating at first, "I get it, really... my... my father was like that. I don't really talk about it often... in retrospect, maybe I should have."

He let out an awkward chuckle. "Believe it or not... Serval was always the strong one", he confessed, "I couldn't keep anyone safe back then." "You can now. That's what matters", you hugged him closely, "I feel safe with you." Gepard hugged you back. "I'm glad to hear that. I love you", he kissed your cheek again, "you don't ever have to worry about upsetting me. I would never want to hurt you." You nodded.

Gepard pulled out a pack with seeds from his pocket. "Oh, you have another one?", you asked upon realizing it was the same plant you had dropped. He nodded and smiled. "I came prepared."

He stared down at the seeds absentmindedly. "You know...", he began, "I always thought flowers are the most beautiful when they bloom freely without interference; no matter how they turn out. The same goes for people. Even if you mess up, I first and foremost want to see you thrive. I want to support you and be by your side through the good and the bad. And I'll be proud of you for every bit of progress you make."

You grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a desperate kiss, tears falling down your cheeks again. But this time they did because you were moved by his words and how much love you had found in them. He kissed you deeply and lovingly, holding your hand in his to reassure you he'd be here with you for as long as you'd have him. He kissed away your sorrows and when your lips finally parted you found yourself with a bright smile on your face once more.

"Sorry about your plant", you sighed. He chuckled. "Seems we both just might be bad gardeners", he got up from the greenhouse floor and reached his hand out to you with an encouraging expression, "but we can try again - together." You took his hand, like a lifeline that was thrown to you to pull you from the deepest depths of the ocean. And looked forward to your future with him.

You knew now what came after the fire. Even the harshest inferno would eventually subside to make space for new beginnings and rebirth. One seed could one day grow into a vibrant garden if you just nurtured it and gave it time.

Life would always reclaim the space that destruction had left behind. And it all started with a couple of seeds, a few discarded flower pots and the warmth of Gepard's smile.

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Propaganda for Michel Ney:

This man. THIS MAN HAD SO MUCH CHARACTER. HE’S LITERALLY THE KIND OF MAN THAT INSPIRES GOOD FICTIONAL CHARACTERS NGL!! Since he’s up against a british person, here is a description of him by the Times of London:

“... his name rendered illustrious by 25 years of eminent services and brilliant exploits, was dear to the country, and even the enemies of France admired in him the character of the Great Captain. All allowed him to possess as much generosity of sentiment as bravery and skill at the head of armies. No trait of weakness, adulation or rapacity, had ever cast shade over his loyalty and military virtues. His sole defect seemed to be a certain vehemence of character and expression, which rendered him little suited to public affairs.”

And his death was so tragic. In Waterloo, he had made a fatal mistake with the cavalry, and he decides here that he will die. We don’t know exactly what happened here. Did he have so much PTSD from russia and years of war that he made such a stupid mistake (AA ALSO AFTER the disaster of russia campaign he isolated himself so much. Poor man🥺)? But one thing’s for sure, this man wasn’t a coward. The Bravest of the Brave was not a man who’d mess up in the war and just run away. On those grassy fields, Ney tried everything to get his men’s attention and when all hope seemed lost he shouted in the faces of the enemies “See how a marshal of France meets his death!” It seems in that moment his greatest want was to be killed by english bullets. But Victor Hugo recounts this and adds the ironic line of “Unhappy man, thou wert reserved for French bullets!”

…😭😭😭😭ISN’T THAT JUST…. SO POETIC AND TRAGIC?????

AND DON’T EVEN. DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW HE DIED!!!!

This man sobs afterwords he gets tried for treason against france basically for siding with Napoleon. But with how unfairly they zero-in on ney’s wrong doings, this was a blood sacrifice. To help him, his lawyer reasoned that the place Ney was born from technically was no longer french, since it has been annexed by Prussia from the 1815 treaty of paris…

But this guy. OH nOnoNonononononoNO, this red-haired, lion-looking, emotional honor-filled patriot has the audacity to interrupt his defender and say loudly without the slightest doubt or hesitation "I am French and I will remain French!"

….

Come on. COME ON!!!! How stupid is he???!! How idiotic!! He just closed another door to survival because of what??

because of honor….. Wow, can you imagine that? He has given everything all his years of service, all his years of being a husband, a father, a son, all his years of rest and peace of mind to France. He has done so much, and even when…EVEN WHEN FRANCE SLAPS HIM ACROSS THE FACE AND SAYS “you traitor” He shouts back “I am French and I will remain French!” aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG….. what the hek…who is this man????

So he is executed as a traitor. There are different versions of his death but here are a few:

By Rochechouart:

“He [Ney], of course, refused to kneel down and be blind-folded; he merely asked the Commandant Saint-Bias to show him where he should stand. He stood facing the platoon, who held their guns ready to fire. Then, in an attitude I shall never forget, it was so noble, calm and dignified, without bravado, he took off his hat, and availing himself of the moment when the Adjutant stepped aside and gave the signal to fire, he said these words, which I distinctly heard: Frenchmen, I protest against my sentence; my honour..." As he said these words he placed his hand on his heart; the volley was fired, and he fell. A rolling of drums, and the shout of "Vive le Roi" from the surrounding troops closed the mournful ceremony.”

Such a death made a deep impression on me, and turning to Auguste de la Rochejaquelein, Colonel of the Grenadiers, who was beside me, and who, like me, deplored the death of the bravest of the brave, I said: ‘There, my dear friend, is a lesson how to die.’”

By M. Laisne:

“He [Ney] took some steps, removed his hat, and in a loud and clear voice: ‘I protest,’ he said ‘before heaven and mankind, that the judgment that condemns me is iniquitous; I appeal from it to Europe and to posterity’ …. Before these words there was presented to him a handkerchief to bandage his eyes. He answered with exaltation, ‘do you not know that a soldier does not fear death.’ He advanced again four paces, laying his hand on his heart and said to the soldiers: ‘Do your duty. It is there that you must hit, do not miss me.’ Instantly he fell dead.”

And finally a very close person to him, Ida Saint-Elme:

“Ney got out of the carriage. He was wearing civilian clothes: a long dark coat, a white necktie, black breeches and stockings, a tall beaver hat with curved brim. He uncovered. His slightly raised head showed that his face wore a tranquil expression. He looked first to the right and then to the left. He caught sight of me. Then, as though fearing to compromise his faithful friends by the least sign of recognition, he bent his brow downward a trifle.”

“He walked on with firm step. At that instant I discerned through the mist, in the centre of the square of troops, and standing out from the dark background of the wall, the firing squad. I tried to rush forward. Belloc pulled me back, and forced me into the cab.”

“Then I dropped weakly upon the seat. A few minutes elapsed, each a whole century long. Then I heard a sharp report. I went into a dead faint."

His death is so tragic and amazing. It really shows out his character and was the initial thing that got me interested in him as a person. Anyways, basically, this dude is such a tragic glory-lover but also very heroic and inspiring.

So therefore HE ISS SEXY GO VOTE FOR NEY!!!

.

[tomirida]

Today is May 31, remembrance day for victims of repressions and acarcılıq, the famines of 1920-1921 and 1931-1933. The former saw a million Qazaqs perish, and the latter between 1.3 to 1.5 million. By 1939, Qazaqs had lost more than a quarter of their population in a decade.

Moreover, Qazaqstan had lost most of its intelligentsia due to political repressions. A short list under the link.

• Äliyhan Bökeyhan (1866-1937) — leader of the Alac Party and editor of the Qazaq newspaper, which ran from 1913 until 1918. He stood for an independent and democratic Qazaq state. In 1917, he was elected president of the newly-formed Alac Autonomy, but the republic was crushed in 1920 by the Bolsheviks. In 1937 he was arrested and executed in Moscow.

Bökeyhan in 1935 and 1937.

• Ahmet Baytursınulı (1872-1937) — linguist and author of the reformed Arabic alphabet called töte jazıw, which adapted the writing system to be more accessible and accounting for the Qazaq language's unique features. He is also responsible for coining new terms for Qazaq grammar and literature. In 1937 he was accused of being an "enemy of the people" and was shot by a firing squad.

A. Baytursınulı in 1913.

Mirjaqıp Dulatulı (1885-1935) — poet and writer, author of the poem Oyan, Qazaq! (Wake up, Qazaq!) and the first Qazaq novel Baqıtsız Jamal (Unhappy Jamal), which brings to light the sad fate of women in patriarchal Qazaq society. The lines of Oyan, Qazaq! go thus:

Open your eyes; wake up, Qazaq; raise your head,

Don't waste your years in the darkness.

When the land is lost, faith corrupted, and the situation's getting worse,

My dear, there's no time to rest.

Oyan, Qazaq! has become a slogan for a free Qazaqstan in modern times.

M. Dulatulı in 1916.

In 1928 he was accused of "Qazaq nationalism" and was arrested. He spent two years in Butyrka prison, then was transferred to Solovki prison camp. He died in Sosnovka in 1935.

Turar Rısqulov (1894-1938) — chairman of the Central Electoral Committee of the Turkestan ASSR, founder of the "Bukhara" society, and participant in the 1916 Central Asian revolt. He supported the agency of indigenous Turkic peoples, viewing revolution along national lines as a fight against colonial exploitation and settler violence. He was charged with Pan-Turkism and was executed in 1938.

Portrait of T. Rısqulov.

İliyas Jansügirov (1894-1938) — poet, writer, and translator. He's the author of the famous poem Qulager about the death of Aqın-Seri's beloved horse; he also translated countless works of Pushkin, Gorky, Mayakovsky, Hugo, Heine, and other foreign classics. He was executed without trial in 1938.

İ. Jansügirov, presumably in the 1920s.

There were many more bright people who were imprisoned and executed by the Soviet regime, such as writers Mağjan Jumabay, Säken Seyfullin, Beyimbet Maylin; doctor Sanjar Asfendiyarov, linguists Qudaybergen Jubanov, Teljan Conanov, Näzir Törequlov.

The forced settlement of nomads led to Qazaqs being ripped away from their traditional life and culture, the mass repressions of the intelligentsia silenced people's voices. This day is as important as ever in light of the situation in Qazaqstan, where the government still imprisons journalists and activists; where the 200+ people killed during Bloody January and their families still haven't seen justice; and where, in the world, Russia denies Qazaqstan's history and territorial integrity, and still dreams of rebuilding the Russian Empire.

[cliozaur]

Despite the kindness and forgiveness emanating from Bishop Myriel and, later, Jean Valjean, figures who restore faith in humanity's goodness, the Thénardiers possess the power to shatter any trust we might have in humankind. What they have done to Fantine and Cosette is arguably the gravest sin against humanity in classical literature. They exploit money from Fantine, coercing her to literally sell parts of herself, all because she believes it keeps Cosette safe and sound. If only she knew... I can’t fathom what would have become of her if she did. It is even sadder that Fantine’s money doesn't enrich these individuals; it only services their endless debts.

Cosette is abused, undernourished, and dressed in rags. This is sufficient to evoke sympathy, but Hugo takes it a step further, portraying how she was forced to perform household chores before the age of five. If you know any children of that age, you understand that you don’t want them to ‘help’ with chores, as you'll end up having to redo everything. Peasants did use child labour, but typically for simple tasks. Not for washing dishes and sweeping rooms and courtyards. If the Thénardiers had a child of five sweeping their rooms and courtyard, it's no wonder they eventually went out of business.

Villagers looking at this abused child and praising the Thénardiers for their generosity is a common occurrence in the countryside. Eugene Weber’s "Peasants into Frenchmen" gives the impression of how hardened, unsympathetic, misogynistic, and pragmatic peasants were due to their challenging and unpredictable lives.

And the last passage is absolutely heart-wrenching: “She was called the Lark in the neighbourhood… Only the little lark never sang.” Oh…