“You think I think that an artist’s job is to speak the truth. An artist’s job is to captivate you for however long we’ve asked for your attention. If we stumble into truth, we got lucky, and I don’t get to decide what truth is.”
Tabatha Fortis (Laura Dern), The West Wing, “The U.S. Poet Laureate”, S3E16
let me tell you about the amazing potential of Cosette and Feuilly as foster siblings opening a coffee shop together
It has a large counter in a U shape, and one half of it is decidated to the coffee and the other to the tea; there are plants and dainty tea cups and feature art and crafts from local people, which Cosette and Feuilly still personally pick and they have impeccable taste
it’s all open space and large tables, there are workshop organised every week – first it’s their friends teaching whoever wants to come about skills, relaxation techniques, or discussions about what’s happening in the world, but it ends up being so popular they have an actual schedule and a website to book your place in one of these workshops
they have poetry nights, too
Cosette makes the sweetest hot chocolates and chai lattes and Feuilly’s so good with latte art
they hire pretty much anyone who needs a job, no matter what their pasts or experiences are – that’s how Marius ended up learning how to make pastries, and he’s good at it
they have a suspended coffee system that never go under a dozen suspended coffees available
because Valjean’s not getting any younger, he feels bad about not being able to do as much as before, and Cosette and Feuilly know he’s getting a bit lonely, so they 100% include him in their venture and he works there part time and he loves it and he meets people and talk to them and I’m so happy guys I just want Jean Valjean to be happy that’s the only thing that matters
contexts in which jkr introduces her readers to remus:
book 3: in his first scene he conjures a patronus and passes around chocolate
book 3: in his second scene he teaches them all a spell focused in overcoming fears with laughter
book 5: in his first scene he rescues harry from an abusive household, and smiles widely at harry while he does it
book 6: in his first scene he is handed a large slice of cake
book 6: in his second scene everyone is sitting around a fire at christmas drinking eggnog
book 7: when he rolls up to The Squad in grimmauld place he passes around butterbeers and hermione lights a fire in the fireplace
rowling does this thing where even if remus is having The Literal Worst Time he is almost always introduced in the context of warmth and light and comfort, which he more often than not is directly providing to others
Since joining Tumblr, I’ve met a lot of young queer people. Look, I’m a bisexual man in a gay relationship, and I’m approaching 30. I was still a kid when Matthew Shepard’s story was being covered on the news. I remember thinking, “I better keep my mouth shut about these feelings I’m having.”
And then I met Dominic when I was 12, and people could see how in love we were. And we got the shit beat out of us. The year I met him, some kids in the grade above me held me down against the bleachers in our gym and stomped on my hand until my fingers broke. Instead of sending me to the nurse, the teacher sent me to the assistant principal to explain the situation. She asked why the kids had beat me up. I said, “They were calling me gay.”
Her response was, “Well, are you?”
My, “I don’t know,” earned a call to my parents, and I was outed. Efforts were made to keep me from seeing Dom. Throughout high school, Dom’s stepmother intensified these efforts. He slept in the basement of the house. Although he was an incredibly talented student, he was prohibited from participating in any extracurriculars. He suffered a lot of physical abuse during those years.
The day he turned 18, he packed up everything he had and walked to my house, and we’ve lived together ever since. Things are better, but they’re not perfect. I’ve had trucks pull up next to me at stoplights and, seeing the pride sticker on my car, through old drinks and garbage into my window. I no longer speak to my dad’s side of the family. I haven’t been to see them for Christmas or Thanksgiving in years. One of my uncles had cornered me at Thanksgiving when I was 17 and said, “I’m not going to judge you, but I’d be happy to break your neck so God can do the judging a little sooner.”
I joined a support group for trans and intersex people. When I joined, 40 people attended regularly. Within the year, the group was half the size it had been. Some couldn’t make it anymore, because they were staying at the shelter, where their stay hinged on them agreeing to instead to attend homophobic sermons. Some were put in correctional therapy. Five of them died. Three of those, I didn’t know, but I knew Alex, the 19 year old who was fag-dragged in Kentucky and died a day later in the hospital, and I knew Stephanie, who went home to Alabama to care for her mom in hospice and was beaten to death with a baseball bat by her mom’s boyfriend.
Tumblr is not reality. The dynamic here does not reflect the dynamic out there. Here’s the part where I finally make a point, and it might be extremely unpopular – but guys, value your allies.Value each other. We are met with enough hate in our daily lives to enter an online safe-space and meet more hate from our own, over petty things. Don’t go after one another over every little thing you find problematic.
Learn to see nuance. Maybe the word “queer” bothers you, and you see a gay man using it as an umbrella term. Maybe someone called a trans man a trans woman because they’re confused about terminology, but the post where they did it was voicing support for the trans community. Maybe someone is just asking a question, wanting to learn more. Stop. Attacking. These. People.
Allies are being driven away. Members of our own community are being ostracized. Others are feeling nervous and estranged, and it’s largely because of places like Tumblr, where the social justice movement is quickly becoming violent and radical. I am begging you, stop nitpicking “problematic” things and start directing your efforts to create real change. When it comes to comes to your allies, forget the “social justice warrior” mentality and put down your torch. Educate calmly. Be respectful. Be understanding. Be forgiving. And I’m certainly not saying that your anger doesn’t have a good place – when you are met with bigots on the street, congress members who want to pass hateful laws, violent protesters, abusive parents, prejudiced teachers, that is when you need to be a warrior. That’s when it counts. In the real world. When you have the opportunity to protect people from real harm. Attacking your would-be allies via anonymous asks is just going to lose us ground in the long run. And we don’t have time for that, not when trans women of color are being murdered every day, not when states are still fighting against marriage equality, not when there are politicians in office who believe that trans people are possessed by demons, not when we’ve just lost 50 brothers and sisters to one gunman, not when the media won’t even admit that the attack was homophobic.
Please step back. Look at the big picture. Look at where we are, globally. Don’t just log on to your safe space and attack your allies over small missteps. That’s like washing the dishes in a house that’s on fire, kids. Let’s fight on the battlefield, and when we come home to each other, let’s just focus on bandaging up our wounds so we can go out and win the war.
Signal boost to this unbelievably important message.
Thank you for this.
Allies are being driven away. Members of our own community are being ostracized. Others are feeling nervous and estranged, and it’s largely because of places like Tumblr, where the social justice movement is quickly becoming violent and radical. I am begging you, stop nitpicking “problematic” things and start directing your efforts to create real change. When it comes to comes to your allies, forget the “social justice warrior” mentality and put down your torch. Educate calmly. Be respectful. Be understanding. Be forgiving.
She is a beast and I adore her. Also, what she’s saying and the WAY she says it throughout this interview is so important to listen to. The arguments on the Democratic side are about how best to make progress, the most assured way forward. The goals are the same and the distinction between methods is a matter of degrees.
And, of course, the key point that each Democratic candidate, even on their worst day, is 10000% better than the alternative.
Han is all “there’s to much Vader in him,” without mentioning that there is too much Vader in Leia too.
Like, Bail Organa, bless his poor poor soul, tried to politician the Vader out of her. He tried SO FUCKING HARD.
But the fact that she abandoned politics to be a General in the Resistance says a lot about her similarities to Anakin Skywalker.
See, people get it wrong. They assume because Luke got the blond hair and the lightsaber that he is Anakin’s child. He’s not. He’s Padme’s.
Leia, though. Leia is very much Anakin’s child. She is the one with the deep anger in her. She is the one who will bring peace to her new empire freedom and justice back to the galaxy whether the galaxy wants it or not. She is the one who commands armies and amasses followers as easy as breathing. She joined the Rebellion while she was in her teens. She is the one with the spirit of a warrior.
Don’t get me wrong; Bail Organa did his damnedest to raise her in the mold of her mother, fighting her battles in the halls of power with words as her weapons. And she was very good at it. But unlike Padme, Leia’s words always had an edge to them, her tone and meaning always a little too sharp, a little too angry.
Peace and mercy are the trademarks of Luke and Padme. Justice and order, obtained by whatever means necessary, are the marks of Leia and Anakin.
How the throne room scene actually should’ve gone:
“If you will not turn to the Dark Side, perhaps she will.”
“Pffffthahahahaha yeah, okay Dad, let me know how that turns out. Look, the reason I’m here instead of her is because I want you alive and not a cloud of vaporized plastic. You know she strangled Jabba the Hutt with the chain he put around her neck, right? That’s what she does to people who try to control her. Better tell your Emperor you’re not allowed to have any more ideas.”
“Hello. My name is Luke Skywalker. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”
“Never go up against a Mandalorian when death is on the line!” *immediately falls into Sarlacc pit*
“Bye, boys! Have fun storming the Death Star!”
“Wampas Of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.”
“Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed, on Hoth?”
“It just so happens that Obi-Wan here is only mostly dead.”
“Give us the access code.” “What access code?” “Chewie, tear his arms off.” “Ohhh you mean this access code!”
“I could give you my word as a Corellian…” “No good. I’ve known too many Corellians”
“Why can’t I see?” “You’ve been mostly-frozen all day.”
That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying “I know”, what he meant was, “I love you.”
“Why do you wear that black mask? Were you burned on Mustafar, or something like that?” “Oh no, it’s just that they’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”
“Luke doesn’t get eaten by the rancor at this time. ”What?” “The rancor doesn’t get him. I’m explaining to you because you look nervous.”
“The Fowce is what bwings us togevver today. It suwwounds us, and penetwates us. It binds the gawaxy togevver.”
He really really like soft things. There wasn’t much softness at all in his life until he was a young adult and met a group of people he called him, until he found himself solid and stable enough to allow himself to feel attached to a home.
So Feuilly really loves everything that’s soft – soft voices and soft music, carrying him to sleep. Fluffy pillows and warm blankets. Plushy armchairs in his friends’ apartments that he always ends up dozing on. The soft light of the sun through his window in the afternoon when he comes home from work. Soft breeze in his hair when he gets out. Scarves and socks and sweaters. His friends’ soft and gentle hands holding his, patting his back, gentle hugs.
He collects old picture frames, bought mostly in garage sales and flea markets. He has quite an eclectic collection, and always puts photos of his friends in them – he likes how varied and different they all are, like his groupe of friends. He keeps a few very special ones for travel photos, when he gets to travel one day.
He taught Jehan origami and they have this 1000 paper cranes thing going on – they haven’t decided on a wish, though. Maybe it’s not that important.
In return for the origami lessons, Jehan is teaching Feuilly the piano! They haven’t gone very far in their lessons because they’re been tipsy and/or otherwise intoxicated pretty much every time they’ve sat down to practice, but they’ll get there.
Still reads aloud to himself a lot. Sometimes does accents when he’s reading fiction. He’s absolutely terrible at it.
He totally foster kittens for a local shelter. He’d love to adopt one for real one day, but he doubts his ability to take care of another living being.
(he’s totally great at it when he does adopt a cat, though)
The other amis throw him a surprise birthday party every year. And every year, he’s so surprised he cries a little. Like he wasn’t expecting it, even though they always do. Aw, baby.
eirenical17 