here’s to the ladies who get pushed aside, who aren’t wielding swords and words and even femininity like weapons of war, who are rarely the protagonists and even more rarely the antagonists and even more rarely noticed at all. here’s to the girls that fandom prefers to ignore, who aren’t celebrated like their equally excellent peers but sit on the sidelines, who can also be selfish or petty or mean but also kind and quiet and understanding. here’s to the girls who believe in fairy tales and freedom and watching from the sidelines, who endure abuse and worse as patriarchal narratives see them as plot instead of characters, foils instead of people. here’s to the ladies who are called “whiny” and “passive” and “boring” for watching the story play out and getting swept up in it because they don’t have the ability or even the drive to be the ones calling the shots. here’s to the rival love interests, to the observant children, to the women killed off before they have a chance to shine. here’s to the ones reviled for loving someone they shouldn’t or sacrificing more than they should. here’s to the ladies out there who are never called special or stanned or remembered by more than a few.
here’s to the ladies who are rarely your favorites but who have stories- all rich, most untold- all the same.
I’ve been seeing things around, recently but also ever since I joined the fandom, expressing the stance that Enjolras is naive, and/or lacking in understanding of the people/issues facing France in the 1830s, and that he makes a miscalculation therefore and gets a lot of people…
Other than my complete agreement here about Enjolras, I love that other people share my loathing of Turning. “They were schoolboys, never held a gun” makes me rage. Les Amis - and especially Enjolras - are a lot of things. Naive is not one.
Fun fact time: many of my old acquaintances still make joking comments whenever they see me wearing pink, because as a child (and honestly pretty much right up to high school) I would refuse to associate with any pink objects.
It wasn’t because I didn’t like pink, it was because since I appeared female I was supposed to/ it was immediately assumed that I did and therefore it pissed me the ever-loving fuck off. I was ashamed to like it, which is terrible because pink is an awesome color. But when you shove it down young girls throats it gets really old, really fast.
Give the child the fucking rainbow, and if they pick pink, it’s not because they are female and/or effeminate, it’s because they like the color pink.
Reblogging again because yes.
[Image description: Dee and YPG are talking. The caption saiys “How to get me to agree to things:”
Dee: “It doesn’t involve talking to people.”
I’ll agree even faster if there is absolutely no use of the telephone.
A world of WORD on this one.