#the girlies that get it get it and the girlies that don't don't that's okay

[archangeldyke-all]

I got sevika blue screening after being called my butch on the mind rn. especially if it was said casually. I think it's one of those things that never fails to make her secretly swoon after the first time

GODDDDDD FSDG

men and minors dni

sevika's never really liked the term 'girlfriend.'

it's not that she doesn't want to be in an established relationship-- especially since she's met you-- it's just... such a strange term for her.

she's not a girl-- she's a woman. there's nothing particularly girly about her. sevika's much more comfortable being more masculine, and she loves being able to be a gentlewoman.

in more mundane ways-- holding the doors open for you, offering up her bus seat when a pregnant person or old man shuffles on, subtly flexing when you hold her arm on your walks home at night-- and in bigger ways too.

sevika's butch. she takes pride in that title. and if that means she needs to fight some assholes who don't know the meaning of the word 'no'-- so be it.

so, this is all to say, the first time you introduce sevika to your friends, she's just a little hesitant to have to hear herself described in such a strange way. she'd prefer 'wife', in all honesty, but she's trying to take things slow with you, and 'partner' sounds like you guys work together.

but then, you spot your friends at a table, smiling and tugging sevika to the back of the resturant with a hand on her bicep.

"hi!" you squeal, greeting your friends with hugs and kisses. sevika watches with a gentle smile as you all greet each other. "okay, everyone, this is my butch, sevika." you introduce her with a happy little gesture in her direction.

sevika freezes, processing your words, a smile slowly growing on her face. all your friends wave and welcome her happily to the table, but she only has eyes for you, her heartbeat thudding in her chest as she studies you.

you notice-- or you must just know her really well-- because it's how you introduce her from that moment on... up until she proposes for you.

then for a while then, she's introduced as your fiance which she loves-- but she misses being called your butch so much.

so the first time she hears you refer to her as your husbutch? she just about tackles you the ground as she tries to smother you in kisses.

you're on the phone with your friend or something, just catching up, and sevika's not even meant to overhear it or anything, she just happens to pass the kitchen as you say it. "...so then i'm gonna take my husbutch to the markets, see if i can convince her to haul home some-ah!" you squeal as you're tackled to the floor. "sevika!"

"i love you so fucking much. let's get married again. i don't care if it's tacky."

"i'm on the phone!" you giggle.

"shit, sorry." she scrambles to get the phone for you, pressing it into your hand gently. "i just love you." she kisses you one last time, her tongue just barely brushing your lips, making you just a little dizzy before she pulls away and winks at you.

it takes your friend three tries to get your attention again.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes

[captain-huggy-bear]

Late Bloomer

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Quinn finds out he's your first boyfriend in your mid-20s, you're expecting him to freak out.

Notes: In honour of still being single at 26 nearly 27, for all my late bloomer girlies, you're fine. (I didn't have my first kiss till 24, so you'll be fine, we'll be fine)

"You're my first..."

"What?" It's not that Quinn hasn't heard you, of course he has. Your head is in his lap, he's so close he can hear every breath from you as you lounge together on his couch. It's that he doesn't quite believe it. That this talk of past partners summarily ended with you admitting he was your first, you? How could he be your first when you're the dream for him?

He looks dumbfounded above you and you can't help the embarrassment that floods you, cheeks feeling warm as you scramble out of his lap and towards the other end of the couch. He reaches for you on instinct before you get very far, hand wrapping around your ankle to tug you back lightly.

You're embarrassed by it, mid-twenties and a self confessed late bloomer, your first kiss not long ago and Quinn your first boyfriend. It makes you feel immature, silly. You're prepared for the usual questions; what was wrong with you that you didn't have a partner before him, had you just not been interested or was there some sort of skeleton in your closet that he didn't know about. You only admitted it because he was asking about past partners and you refused to lie to him, couldn't possible lie to him.

"Hey, hey, where you going?" His voice has gone soft, eyes softening at your retreat, like he's calming a skittish animal as he tugs you back to him. You're still keeping some distance, not quite as close as before but not so far either.

"It's weird, isn't it?" You avoid his eyes, arms crossing over yourself protectively.

"No, I'm just surprised, sweetheart..."

"Right...cause it must mean there's something wrong with me, right? Why else would I be in my mid twenties and only just in my first relationship...it's okay, I know it's weird." Every single person who'd ever told you it was weird, questioned your singledom seemed to pop into your head in that moment. Every date who got weirded out by it and ghosted you. Every time your mother suggested that you might just never find someone. Every person that gave you that look of pity then whispered behind your back. In that moment you can't comprehend that Quinn's being genuinely, that he doesn't actually think it's weird or at least not in the way you think.

"Baby," He's laughing at you lightly as ramble out your words, hand pressing under your chin, thumb and forefinger gripping gently to raise your face to meet his eyes. "It's not weird, I mean...okay, it's not weird like that. I just...i'm surprised no one else snatched up before me, y'know?"

You're a little stumped by the way he's smiling at you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he pulls you closer, your legs resting either side of his lap.

"You're just...you're funny," He presses a kiss to your cheek, the scruff he's been growing this season scratches pleasantly as his voice rumbles in a hum of sorts, "kind," a kiss pressed to your forehead, "intelligent, so smart its actually embarrassing for me," a kiss to your other cheek, nose nuzzling just a little before moving on, "brave," the tip of your nose is the target this time, "insanely pretty," your chin gets a peck, ", and completely perfect for me".

His breath hovers over your lips, waiting for your eyes that had closed to reopen before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's perhaps the sweetest kiss he's ever given you as his hands curl over your hips and a happy rumble escapes his chest like a cat purring.

"You...you mean all that? You're not weirded out by it?" You ask the moment he pulls away, that hesitancy still there. Your desire to not ruin this new, sweet thing you have so very strong. He's all you ever wanted and you don't want to ruin it just because you're inexperienced.

"Baby...i'm actually kind of glad...can I say that? Not to sound like an asshole or anything, but....I like that i'm your first boyfriend, that I get to be that for you." There's this possessive little thing in him that loves it, loves that no other man has made you feel the way he does, that there are so many firsts he gets to share with you, that no other man gets to claim you were his. It's stupid, old fashioned, practically cave man. He knows you're not a trophy, an object, he doesn't think you are...but he also hates the idea that you might have loved someone else.

"You jealous?" You tease, shoulders relaxing as your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He'd been growing it out over the season and you were tempted to pay every barber in the city to refuse to cut his hair.

"Of other guys who might have loved you? Oh, yeah...want you all to myself, forever." His fingers rub circles into your outer thigh, where your sleep shorts have risen. Every other circle interrupted by a random shape or pattern.

"Forever?"

"Forever. If you'll let me?" There's no doubt in his mind that you're it for him. He's been gone from the first moment, all consumed. His life used to be strictly hockey and then you stormed into his life, suddenly he wants to take breaks, hates roadies because he misses you, and looks for a familiar face in the crowd. He could see it, you, him, forever. You, him, a few little kids running around, a couple of cats, a house in the suburbs.

You grin at him, humming as if it's a hard question to answer, something that requires a lot of thinking. "Mmm, I'll think about it,"

Your teasing is cut short by Quinn's fingers finding their way to your ribs, tickling you in your soft spot as you shriek and try to pull away, "Hey! Quinn!", his right arm holds you tight to him, even as you squirm while laughing so hard you worry you might be sick.

"Say it!" He demands, torture not letting up for a single moment even as he grins down at your scrunched up face, at the way you try to squirm away as you laugh.

"Okay, okay!" You finally concede, trying to catch your breath as his fingers still, your arms wrapping tight around his neck, foreheads pressed together. "Forever."

"Good."

He might be your first boyfriend, but he's also pretty certain he might be your last. At least, if he has any say in it.

[dsireland86]

It's Folio Friday and My Birthday!

If you're the one who left the request/message in my inbox earlier in the week, I had a plan that day to work up something sweet and fluffy for you for your special day! Happy Birthday, friend! You share it with our favorite bassist as well 😊And, my favorite day of the week... Folio Friday! It's a 3 for 1 special today; A brand new Folio Fic, A Happy Birthday Message, And Folio Friday Honor.

Hope your day is wonderful! Happy Birthday!!!

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp 

He's never done this before. He's never had a need to. Past relationships have just been flings that never amounted to anything. But this, what Folio has with you, it's different. Completely different. The last few months with you have changed him, making him want to strive to be a better version of himself. You bring out the softer side of him and give him a reason to want to show it. Folio is head over heels in love with you, and today on your birthday, the very first birthday you're celebrating together, he's going to prove it.

"No, not that one. She hates pink and absolutely anything princess!" "Whoa, okay dude, chill," Nicholas mutters. "What kind of girl hates pink and princess stuff, anyway?"

Nicholas looks at Folio like he has two heads.

"The kind that isn't girly." "What's wrong with being a girly girl?"

Folio shrugs.

"I didn't say anything was wrong with it. I just said Y/N isn't one of them."

"Well," Ruffilo says, tossing the pink princess crown cake topper back on the shelf. "What does she like?"

He looks at Folio who stops to think for a moment, thinking of what it is that would make his girl really happy on her birthday. Then it hits him.

"Dude!" his eyes grow wide. "I know exactly what she'd like Come on." Folio rushes past Nicholas, betting feet out of the party store. "Finally," Nick groans, following his friend out the door.

Y/N gets out of the shower, wrapping the towel around her. Wiping the mirror to rid it of the moisture, she stares at herself. Another year older and she doesn't look any different, but man does she feel different. So much in her life has changed. New friends, new job, new house, and a new relationship. She smiles just thinking about him.

Folio fell into her lap months ago, by mere coincidence. They hit it off instantly, the connection between them being a first for both. Folio was the best thing to ever happen to her, and she never waisted a moment to make sure he knew it.

A subtle knock on the door and it opens, revealing the man who has stolen her heart. He looks delicious in his Harley hat, black t-shirt, jeans, and boots. His smile is infectious, bringing one to your lips.

"Happy birthday," Folio says, a small smirk lucking in the corner of his lips.

"Thank you," you bashfully reply, looking away from his intoxicating stare.

"You don't have any clothes under that towel," he observes, eyes etched on your body. "Yeah, no duh, Sherlock," you sarcastically reply, raising an eyebrow.

He moves in closer to you, pressing his body against yours, wrapping his arms around you. His soft kiss to your lips is enough to send your head spinning out of control, forcing you to suppress the impulses running through you.

"I have a surprise for you. But I need you to put some clothes on first." You chuckle, closing your eyes briefly. "I think that might be possible." "Good." He kisses you quickly again, patting your bottom before leaving the bathroom, leaving you to giggle and squeal to yourself like a teenager in love.

Folio helps you out of the car, a blindfold covering your eyes tightly. The smile that's been stuck to your lips since leaving the house has made his heart race, the anxiousness swelling up inside him making him shake a little.

"Nick, I'm scared," you giggle, gripping his hand tightly. "Why are you scared? Do you think I'm leading you out to the middle of nowhere to torture you and bury you alive?" You stop suddenly. "Sweetheart, I'm kidding."

Smacking his chest and hearing him laugh, you let him lead you to wherever it is he's planning, trusting him completely. "Alright, stop." "Nick, can I please take this stupid thing off now," you beg. "Yeah, yeah, okay," he mumbles, carefully removing the blindfold.

The light is bright, almost blinding. You squint trying to focus your yes and allow them to adjust. A national park sign stands before you, along with a visitors center building. You have no idea what is going on.

"Okay, I'm confused." Folio chuckles. "I figured. Come on," he says, kissing your forehead, and leading you up the hill.

You enter the building and you look around, trying to find any clue to lead you to an idea of where you are. The images you see are slowly registering with your brain the more you walk around. As the realization of where you are hits you, your eyes swell up with tears, forcing your hands to your face to hide your emotions.

"I'm really hoping those are happy tears, because if they're not, I'm going to feel like the worst boyfriend ever.” You silence Folio by pressing your lips to his and throwing your arms around his neck. He responds by wrapping his around your waist, hugging you tightly.

The Sequoia National Park visitors center is mostly empty, giving the two of you a little private time.

"I know it's not a lot, but I know how much you've been wanting to come here. You've talked about it a lot since we've been together, and I figured now would be a good time to bring you.

You stare at your boyfriend, absolutely starstruck at his thoughtfulness and kindness. It is one of the reasons you fell for him so easily.

"Nick, this is the best birthday gift ever!" "Really?" Folio gushes, a small smile breaking out over his face. "Really. I love it. And I love you," you reply, laying your hand on his cheek. "Thank you." Closing yours around his sweet face, you smother his smile with more of your kisses, which he gratefully accepts. Your words to him, the I love you, pierce his heart deeply, making his stomach flutter.

"You love me?" he replies, stunned. At first you think you've said the wrong thing to him. It's only been a few months. How could you possibly be in love with him enough to tell him that you love him. But looking at him right, so happy, you realize that it's not too soon. You are in love with him.

"Yeah, I do. I'm in love with you, Nick."

Slipping his hand behind your neck, he pulls you in and kisses you passionately, gently slipping his tongue in your mouth and tasting you. It makes you whimper as you cling to him, gripping the sides of his shirt in your hands.

When you part, Folio stares at you, but differently than a minute ago. His gaze is confident, strong, and on fire for you.It makes you weak, makes your heart race and the butterflies in your belly come alive. You're his now. And he's yours.

"I love you, too, Sweetheart. Happy birthday!"

[julymusings]

Can we also get a desi reader for Tim, Bruce, and aged up damian, please?

Bruce Wayne x South Asian!Reader

ok i did say whatever you ask is yours...but tbh i'm not much of an anyone-other-than-jason-or-dick girlie (i knowww i'm sorry). maybe in the future i'll write for the others but for now here's some bruce content. hope it's okay pleeease don't hate me. also sorry this took literally 50 years i was going thru some stuff💀

batboys x south asian!reader masterlist

I think he’d try really hard to impress you by taking you to those super fancy Michelin star Indian fusion restaurants. They’re good but don’t have quite the same charm as home cooked Indian food, so you bring him back to your place and cook for him.

I’m gonna be real here…all that man really needs is a kiss and one of grandma’s recipes. You feed him a bite straight from the pot and the softness and intimacy of the action alone almost has him in tears, never mind the love and warmth of a home cooked meal

You two come back to your place late one night after an event and you’re craving some comfort food, so you heat up some leftover rice with ghee and jaggery, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction when he tries it, but when you guys have a fight that results in you not seeing each other for a few days, when you finally return to the manor Alfred informs you that was the only thing he ate because it reminds him of you and he missed you😭

I imagine not being very used to how much money he has, so some of the wealthy stuff he does is kinda weird to you. Seriously, this man has been a billionaire his entire life, so you can’t tell me that at least a morsel of Brucie Wayne’s financial out-of-touchness isn’t a tiny bit real

You tell him that in your culture, it’s common to gift gold at really special milestones/occasions. But he gets carried away.

He buys you a bunch of gold jewelry, like for every occasion and it’s like…real, solid, 22k gold. You try to tell him that it’s too much and you don’t need anymore and please stop buying it but he’s just like “why🤨🤨? That gold necklace was only a thousand dollars that’s so cheap” and you make him stand in the corner

I think he’d feel so weird about not wearing shoes at your place but you make him get used to it🤷‍♀️

He’s a genius fr so he picks up your language very easily

You love the super extra Uber-dramatic soap operas and it’s a guilty pleasure of yours to watch them before bed. I can just imagine the two of you huddled together in bed watching them on your laptop. He makes sure all the TVs in the house have all the channels you like. Eventually he can’t sleep without watching them either😭

I think he’d love certain perfume scents that are from South Asia, and he’d buy you fancy those perfume oils

I’m sorry but…I can NOT see this man wearing a kurta. Like I just don’t think he’d do it.

Lighting incense in the batcave. That’s all

incorporating this ask bc it's relevant:

One day you’re making chai, and you ask him to bring the pot from the stove to the counter for you. That thing^ is lying next to the stove, but he doesn't know what that is. And since he can withstand intense levels of pain without flinching he just. Picks up the boiling pot with his bare hands and brings it to you.

"Why didn't you use the clamp?!" "How was I supposed to know what that thing was!!" You show him how to use it but he's kinda petty ("Why can't you just use a normal pot with a normal handle?! Why are you making more work for yourself?") so he refuses to use it and just keeps handling the pot with his bare hands.

But one day you're deep in conversation while making chai. The pot is boiling and he handles it anyway, but you're distracted and you forget that he can do that. You assume it's not hot so you touch it and burn yourself and he feels sooo bad. He's kissing all over your hands and pampering you for the whole day. He finally gives in and just starts using the stupid clamp.

I hc Bruce as being a consistent meditator. He probably spent a lot of time learning about it while training across the world and it helps him feel grounded and calm. He tries to get his kids to do it too, but they don't all like it as much as him. So if you meditate with him every now and then he really appreciates that.

You try to get him into yoga along with it and he's like...scarily good at it. He's not super flexible like Dick, so he chooses to opt out of the super bendy poses, but his core strength is unmatched. He can balance his entire bodyweight on one limb no sweat. He's not wobbling, shaking, or tipping over. He's still as a statue and he can last for hours. (😏)

If you get married, I don’t think it would be a huge event. Like there would probably be some kind of reception that’s more of a formality/business event than anything else where he puts on Brucie Wayne, but for the actual ceremony I think it would just be the family

He'd fly you to your home country to have the ceremony there at some super fancy historical attraction. Even if it's just you and some other close people, he's getting the whole place shut down for the day just for you.

I can’t imagine needing to step into a stepmom role for anyone? Except maybe Cass, Duke, and Damian when his mom isn’t around. The four of you DEFINITELY gang up on Bruce all the time and make fun of his whiteness.

You’d also totally gift them traditional wear

The first time you make dinner for everyone, you make it spicy and everyone loves it, but Bruce is just sitting there SWEATING

He’s so good at keeping a poker face that you wouldn’t have even been able to tell it was too spicy for him if not for the beads of sweat on his face. You give him milk to help soothe the heat but he never lives it down

But you actually are so mothering to the kids, you make them turmeric milk when they’re sick and chai with biscuits when they come home from school🫶and it's so sweet it makes Bruce fall for you all over again

When you move in the whole wearing shoes in the house still bothers you, but you can’t stop everyone else from doing it, so you declare your bedroom a no shoes zone. Bruce can wear shoes anywhere else in the house but NOT your bedroom.

And if you still feel weird about wearing shoes around the manor, he'll buy you a bunch of pairs of home slippers and stash them all over the place

Whenever you stay over he brings you chai in the morning. Once you're married and living with him, he brings it to you in bed every morning. At one point he's like "You know Alfred can bring it for both of us" but you insist it tastes so much better when it's from him, and he can't say no to you.

me personally i like to support women's organizations in south asia, i.e. access to education and better healthcare which means things like menstrual products & obgyn care so i am going to hc that after you share how passionate you are about those, WE partners with an existing charity for those issues, both in south asia and other parts of the world and raises tons of money to donate...take that if you like it (world so bad we writing fanfic about equality now😭)

Since he's a famous billionaire playboy he 100% has an internet presence (likely curated to fit Brucie) and there are tons of edits and memes about him. When the world finds out his partner is south asian, brown people probably go a little insane and there's definitely tons of those memes where they photoshop his face over someone in traditional wear and caption it "Bajju Wagle" or some other name with his initials LMAO

[breadvidence]

@ineffable-gallimaufry asked in the tags "#okay but quick question. i thought that in... well hapgood titled it vague flashes on the horizon i don't have the number exactly#i thought it was specified that his mother had gone to jail for fortune telling?? which was what i was basing the assumption off of#maybe i misread it or it was a weird translation i'm just wondering how that fits in"

Good question! You're right and you're wrong and you've been misled by some stereotypes. The line you are thinking of is in 1.5.5 and opens the paragraph which contains the quote I wrote this post around, and goes: "Javert était né dans une prison d'une tireuse de cartes dont le mari était aux galères". Tireuse de cartes is translated as "fortune-teller" by both Hapgood and Donougher, which is not a weird translation at all, it's sensible. The term more literally is "drawer/puller of cards" or more naturally in English "card reader", and refers to the practice of telling fortunes based on variously laying out or picking cards from a deck (Javert's mother wouldn't have been using Tarot cards in the occult sense you might be imagining--what the pagan girlies are doing now wouldn't be popularized until around the time Javert was born, when the European occultist fancy weirdo movement got rolling; his mother's deck you could probably turn around and use for a quick hand of the 18th c French version of Texas Hold 'Em). This is also called cartomancy.

While fortune-telling is part of the mystical, magical, satanic prejudicial associations with Romani people in Europe, there's two things to know: humans really fuckin love telling fortunes and have been doing so globally pretty far back in the record of our species crafting special objects, and also telling fortunes can be really really profitable. This combination means that Europeans of all ethnic origins were paying for their fortunes to be told and getting paid to do so. So, historically, there's not a meaningful racial/ethnic implication in this being Javert's mother's profession. The reason it seems like there could be can be laid, to some degree, at the feet of those occultists: in order to pump up the prestige and mystery of Tarot and fortune-telling, they whole-cloth fashioned histories having to do with origins in Egypt (and recall the Romani were also called l'égyptien) and other various ancient places "abroad", when in reality Tarot is from 15th c. Italy and fortunes are made everywhere. From a business perspective, you also get fortune-tellers making up personal histories having to do with foreign or exotic origins as a way to bolster their cred, further distancing the modern popular perception of this as a thing that white Europeans do. Hugo himself would've been very familiar with Parisian street fortune-tellers and is unlikely to have had a specifically Romani woman in mind when making this Javert's mother's profession, though we do have to acknowledge that he was influenced by that popularization of the falsified occultist history and stereotypes about Romani, too, rather than having a 100% accurate knowledge of French profession demographics.

It's unfortunately focused a bit later than the period we're most interested in if we're talking when Javert's mother would've been jailed (around 1780), but this article provides good context for Hugo's personal milieu, since I doubt he did research into the legal and cultural minutiae of cartomancy prior to his birth, and also it popped up near the top of Google when I looked for a reference to offer + is free: https://academic.oup.com/fh/article/37/4/379/7310795

As an aside: note that Javert's father is only said to be in the galleys--we don't get a specific crime or whether he was a lifer. While my fondness for writing and reading about Javert having a homoerotic dalliance with Jean Valjean means I like to think of his father being some kind of thief or other peasant-style criminal for maximum daddy issues, there's no textual evidence in any direction, and you could hare off on a fun alternative thought process about whether he was some kind of clerk doing labor because of fraud or another bourgeois crime.

Hope that helps!

[ETA] To be clear, this is still very much a socially questionable—and specifically legally liminal—profession, and I would personally infer from the itinerant/vagabondage implications of race de bohème that mama is fortune-telling because she doesn’t have the means or domicile for a more respectable profession (like Fantine’s sewing). Also? The fact that we’re told “breaking her ban” (not reporting appropriately to the authorities while on parole) is a specific crime Javert would not flinch from persecuting her for makes me realize I’m sleeping on his relationship with Valjean being centered on mommy issues.

" [. . .] il se sentait je ne sais quel fond de rigidité, de régularité et de probité, compliqué d'une inexprimable haine pour cette race de bohèmes dont il était." [LM I.V.V]

What did Hugo mean by this phrase? This is a question with a clear answer, in my opinion. Also in my opinion, this does and doesn't matter: it matters to understanding how Les Mis engages (or fails to) with the literary tradition of race and ethnicity in Europe through Javert, and it doesn't because most of my readers here are bent fannish in their style and do as much enriching of the text as reading of it. What I'm saying is: Javert is not a Romani man in the Brick, but there's no damage to making him one in your fanwork.

Hapgood translates this line as " [ . . . ] he was conscious of an indescribable foundation of rigidity, regularity, and probity, complicated with an inexpressible hatred for the race of bohemians whence he was sprung"; Donougher has it as " [ . . . ] he was conscious of some underlying inflexibility, steadiness and probity within him, compounded by an inexpressible hatred for that gypsy race to which he belonged."

So, bohème: at the time, you have this idea that the Romani people in France came from Bohemia, from which also bohémien, right? And because white Europeans had (and have) a complex, hateful relationship with the Romani people, caught up in exoticization and prejudice and xenophobia, unsure whether they were (or are) more enamored of the idea of free travel and "unconventional" lifeways (from which the entire "Bohemian" art movement) or repelled by stereotypes of criminality (for which see the modern American slur-derived phrase "to gyp"), by the 19th century the word is tied up in complex dual set of associations and is so frequently used in those two-steps-removed senses from the ethnic group it initially described that you can't in any specific case know which of those three meanings is intended without context cues. This is why we have Magloire relate the people of Digne calling Valjean a bohémien--in this case, this means "criminal, itinerant", not "Romani". In contrast, when in I.III.IV we are told "toute une bohème de papillons s'ébattait dans les achillées", these aren't Romani butterflies or imports from Bohemia, the intent is to evoke that positive (so to speak) set of associations.

What cues do we have here that point to the derogatory meaning rather than ethnic?

Within the chapter itself, Javert's hatred is elaborated on as "la haine de la rébellion", where rebellion is crime: this use of la haine, to my reading, is the same la haine as referred to in the earlier sentence, and the phrase "tout ce qui avait franchi une fois le seuil légal du mal" describes the same people as "race de bohèmes". In the header quote for this post, Hugo describes Javert's perception of himself; in this later section, the narrator elaborates and confirms the point. There's no ethnic specificity in the narrator's phrasing. Further, when we get to which class of criminals are particularly terrified by Javert, we're told it's the "gens sans aveu", rendered by Hapgood and Donougher as vagrants: an itinerant class associated with criminality; the point isn't re-iterated that he shows particular antipathy or suspicion of an ethnic group, but of a specific criminalized class.

Hugo never mentions it again. For how Hugo talks about Romani characters, we quite helpfully have Notre-Dame de Paris, and when I say that he cannot fucking stop talking about Esmeralda being la bohémienne, l'égyptienne, fille bohème: he cannot. A search for these word pulls up hundreds of hits for the novel. It's more than central to her character, it's central to how the narration refers to her, and it's key to how she's conceived of bodily and in temperament. Now: you could write Javert as so vigorously working against what it means to be a bohémien that none of these come into play in the narration, or that he wasn't raised in that culture and thus doesn't have any of those influences on his attitudes or habits, but (1) this is not present in the text (2) the reading "his mother is Romani, but this has so little impact on him outside racial hatred that it never comes up again" doesn't really do it for me (3) I would be surprised if Victor Hugo could parse the idea of being ethnically Romani and not temperamentally Romani.

While race and ethnicity are obviously an inextricable part of societal power structures, Les Misérables? It barely fuckin' cares about that (and to be quite honest I'm glad Hugo didn't try harder than his sort of confused gesturing with Thénardier's slave-trading in the end; he's not the man for the job). Javert's character is centrally about Law as an artificial, immoral tool that maintains a bourgeois power structure to the detriment of Society as a whole and the misérables in particular: introducing the question of race/ethnicity alters that one-note to the point of needing to be nested in a different novel. The topic of criminality and race is a whole fucking rodeo, and if it would be an interesting addition to the concept of "society does not include criminals; criminals are a class you can become by committing crime; criminality is an ambiguously heritable trait" that's going on here, it's not in the text. The fact that the idea of criminality as heritable has faded in our culture (it's certainly no longer considered scientific or acceptable to be explicit about, in any case) means that Javert's focus on the idea of being somehow constitutionally impacted by the crimes of his parents reads a bit through modern eyes as racial, but in my opinion that's crossing two streams that are related but not in fact identical.

A minor point, and one I'm less confident of, but: Donougher's use of the slur with a lowercase g feels sharp, precise, and deliberate in this context, particularly given she's European. In my experience, Americans tend to be far less sensitive to it--hell, I've got a friend of a friend who named her tortoise G****. Our racial hatreds focus elsewhere. The implication, here, feels the same as the blanket use of the n-word to refer to anyone dark-skinned. It's a matter of denigration, not a way to identify someone's ethnic/racial background.

Again: fanwork exploring what it would mean for Javert to be a person of color is both a fair place for the fandom to have hared off to based on the multiple meanings of the word bohème and a deeply intuitive step to take given how race and criminality are intertwined in the modern consciousness. What there isn't is textual support for the idea.

[ddejavvu]

NOOOOO THIS IS UR MAN?!

YOU CAN'T SEE ME BUT I'M KNEELING AT HIS FEET ACTUALLY <3

[housederiva]

If I want to get better at art I need to try new things if I want to be better at art I need to try new things if I want to be better at art I need-

[inkskinned]

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."

[vampylily]

diversity win! the homoerotic homophobic closeted gay couple who moved into your neighbouring condo has now proposed!!!

wait hold up.

diversity win? the undercover cop and the drug dealer he's trying to take down is gay???

[lucienne-thee-librarian]

I really need to stay humble lol

Me: I DON'T get the Dream x reader crowd I mean you do you, I'm obsessed with him but in a I Want To Study Him way. I don't get it. I mean he's such an emotional disaster, big divorced dad energy. Like what's attractive about a walking red flag -

Also me, a known dumbass, sees them:

Me omg hiiiiii <3333 #steponme2k24

[necrotic-nephilim]

Please infodump about the JayTimSteph Grotesquerie AU WIP if possible.

OF COURSE i've been thinking about it since i saw the trailer and now it's a little brainworm. (disclaimer i've not watched the first two episodes yet, this is like. solely on the vibes of the trailer. some details might change once i. watch the show depending on if i follow it or just go with the vibes the trailer gave me. which also means there will be no spoilers for the show if you care about that.)

the current idea involves Detective!Tim, Nun!Steph, and Priest!Jason. the vague idea for the plot so far is that a serial killer leaves a *very* artful display of a crime scene inside of the church that Jason and Steph operate out of. Tim is assigned as the leading detective on the case and ends up in a relationship with the both of them as he spirals in madness trying to catch the killer.

for Steph, i want to explore the idea of her father, Cluemaster, being a *very* prolific and artful serial killer who's whole gimmick was sending clues to the police until he was caught when Steph was still a child, and her and her mother were forced to go into witness protection for their own safety, which led her down the path of becoming a nun. it was a defining childhood moment for her to walk in on one of her father's crimes, so when she's the one who finds the crime scene in the church, it *immediately* sends her back to her childhood and she's caught between PTSD-fueled horror and a sick, enticing fascination. she wanted to become a journalist before going into WITSEC but that career was basically all but ruined for her. now she runs the small newspaper for the church and is desperate to write on the first "real" story she's ever had, dragging her into an intense obsession over the crime and trying to prove she can solve it.

for Jason, i want to deal with his history as Bruce. the current idea is that Bruce is Tim's police chief who adopted Jason and Dick from a young-ish age and raised them to be detectives, taking them to crime scenes as teenagers and teaching them the ins and outs of how criminals think. it leads to Dick becoming a detective, but when taking them to crime scenes led to Jason being kidnapped and brutally tortured by "Jack Napier", almost dying. Dick kills Napier to save Jason and it fractures their little family so badly that Dick switches departments to another city and Jason runs away at 17, eventually happening upon joining the clergy. he's the new, young priest in the church who's known for being very pretty but very emotionally distant even if he's nice enough. and he's *pissed* that Bruce is in his church investigating a murder and that no matter where Jason goes, he can't seem to get away from the horrors.

and for Tim, he's the young new detective in his department who is *entirely* unaware that he's been taken under Bruce's wing bc Bruce is treating him as a surrogate replacement for Dick and Jason. haven't fully decided his backstory yet, but it'll likely be similar to canon with losing his mother and father. i kind of want him to be lost and lacking a sense of direction. very gifted in noticing patterns and detective work, but it's clear he doesn't *really* want this job. and when he's assigned as the lead on a case that feels *way* too big for his experience bc Bruce is showing clear favoritism, he's forced to go to Steph for help, which leads to Jason ending up wrapped up with them too.

despite how heavy the plot *sounds*, i honestly want this fic to be like. 40% porn. like the show i want to explore a lot of fucked up sexual interests in Jason who's punishing himself for it, Steph being too interested in things for her own good and desperate for a taste of what "real life" feels like, and Tim just being incredibly repressed. like i want the line between horror and erotic to feel like a jumprope. lots of fucked up sex balanced with like. them actually trying to catch the killer. and then of course the emotional aspect of how Jason's baggage with Bruce works into all of it. also want Tim to have a mild hero worship for "the great Detective Dick Grayson" while being clueless that he's Bruce's son and Jason's brother. i sort of want it to be Steph-centric, but still have POVs from Tim and Jason just to round out their emotional arcs. i haven't fully decided everyone else who'll be in the fic but i know i want Cass to be a fellow nun and friend of Steph's, Babs to also work at the church, Helena to be Tim's favorite coworker, and possibly for Damian to be around somehow. those roles will probably get more fleshed out when i. watch the damn show tho.

anyway TLDR: religious imagery, body horror, kinky sex, and a mystery that might break everyone psychologically once they get to the bottom of it. i have some very specific scenes and dialogue planned out. probably cannibalism as a metaphor for love thrown in there too. idk i just want these three to be as fucked up as possible and unhinged about each other but fighting their repressed side with their unhinged feral side. and since it doesn't exist by god I'll create it.

[tokruta]

someone who is good at psychology help me understand why i adore jegulus with all my heart but don't like drarry outside of very specific aus

please my family is dying (my ability to read jegulus lives aus is heavily compromised)

[good-to-drive]

I think we should stop saying Paul was basically a woman and start saying Ringo was basically a woman, not because it's any less stupid but because it's exactly as stupid and much much funnier

[refriedrambles]

I have a new character who makes Krysa a stronger character. Her name is Roara and she's probably the most feminine character I've ever had and I love her

She's breaking off and absorbing some of Krysa's traits (it's very necessary, Krysa was a mess of a character) and adding them onto a beauty appreciating disney princess/villain. That appreciation can toe the line with vanity but it's also such a genuine deep seeded appreciation that doesn't end at just a pretty face that it's a bit contagious. It applies to nature and interiors and personalities and so much to ideas and art. She's just so full of passion about it too. My notes describe her as a nymph mother goddess and like probably not the best way to describe her but I like it a lot. She is socially adept, a natural leader and very protective of "her" people

Also I have her design in my head but it is getting muddled and I should be asleep so, inspired by Aurora and Megara. Light strawberry blonde, possibly a more typical blonde fading into a light strawberry blonde idk. Head band, but likely often change outfits. Slightly older than Krysa, but probably shorter, this likely makes Krysa taller rather than Roara being an especially short idk figure later

There are significant changes to Krysa from this, but also they're kinda minor at the same time? Roara heavily influences who Krysa grows into by rubbing off on her and taking the time to teach her not to a miserable little shit and handle people. Also learn the importance of taking care of oneself, feeling pretty and though this one doesn't sink in all that much appreciate others. Roara being there really helps me solidify Krysa's character. I can remove the maternal aspects from her, solidify her feelings on having to be a leader herself (she loathes it) matching it with her hatred of authority, and detangles a lot of the confusion between her brutality/hatred of humanity and her strong protective instincts/detest of the cruel and unfair. She's a lot more focused on her curiosity now. Also herself hatred changed from oh I know I'm a bad person and can never be good cause I'm just that smart enough to see it to oh I've seen something so powerful and moving in all of the shit and I could never be that. That's not it like I explained that so badly lol it's not like envy at all. Maybe a bit of su's love like you, but Idk how to get the rest of it across right lol

Krysa's got two big things now self hate while fuels her trust issues and a zealous passion to learn

Roara's got two or three a feverish passion for all types of beauty, a nurturing and protective nature (selective tho it may be), and a knack for knowing how people work

[unclewaynemunson]

Nancy finds herself in front of a cafe in France when the world stops spinning and she has to gasp for breath. She's sitting in the sun, a coffee and a croissant on the table in front of her, and she's staring at her own name in the newspaper she bought a couple blocks back.

Apparently, her car crashed and burned right around the corner – without her, because she had just sold it. And the woman who bought it from her has been reported dead under the name of Nancy Wheeler.

Only a week ago, in a park in Hawkins, she had been pondering the past years and gotten a huge scare. Out of all the dreams a naive younger version of herself once had about what high school would be like, she had only achieved the one where she'd turn eighteen – and that in itself was something like a miracle, if she really had to be honest with herself.

She had lost dozens of classmates. She had messed up two relationships. She had lost her best friend when she was supposed to keep her close, and repeated that same mistake with lethal consequences only two years later with a boy she had willingly dragged onto a crime scene.

She had stopped caring about grades and appearances and finished those last months of high school feeling like she was looking at her life from the outside, like her life had already been decided for her and there was nothing she could do about it. She had turned eighteen and the day had gone by in a lifeless blur until she was alone with her thoughts in the park.

She had become a woman but she was too broken to feel like one.

So she took a radical decision, right then and there. She desperately needed to breathe again, and she would never be able to do that in Hawkins, not after all that happened there.

Some would call it brave, others would say she was fleeing. It didn't really matter what they'd think anyway, because all she knew was that her life needed to be hers again.

She decided to leave, only one week ago, and here she is, staring at her own name in the paper. It's really there, on page eighteen, with a black frame around it. It's giving her more freedom than she ever bargained for – and she has no clue what do do with it.

She keeps reading the page over and over again, trying to grasp what it means to have your very existence erased. She's nothing. Nobody. Nowhere.

It means she can finally do whatever the hell she wants, she realizes abruptly. It means that she’s been given a second chance at life. She feels like that's more than she deserves, but she's sure as hell not gonna waste it. If this is it, so be it. She's still here. And she'll be alright.

She gets up and pays for her coffee. She takes a deep breath. And she thinks of Barb, like she always does. But, after almost three years of walking around with an aching hole in her heart, it's finally starting to lose its sting. 

It always seems rainy in Nancy's mind. But this time, it's raining sunrays.

(i have a feeling @yournowheregirl will be the only one to get this reference so this one’s for you i guess ;P)

[dolores-slay]

Just saw someone post in the anders main tag a list of his 'red flags' among which are that he is self deprecating/insecure in the relationship, that he 'talks about politics all the time' and that he has no personal friends. Like I very much understand it not being the romance for you, you don't HAVE to do it! But do realize that the people who are into it are into it precisely because he doesn't change as a character completely for your sake if you romance him lmao