Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

sparkly-courf asked: Heey!! ✨ Do you have any headcanons for Bahorel, Grantaire and Joly friendship?

just-french-me-up:

Whenever I think about the three of them, I think about that scene in the brick in which Joly and Bahorel talk about Musichetta and Bahorel is all like: “If you want to seduce her real good, you’ll need new pants” and Grantaire barges in like “HOW MUCH????”

So I give you: Makeover Bahorel.

• To be fair, Joly’s style really suits him. He’s all printed shirts and suspenders that don’t actually suspend anything, cool glasses, always some cat prints for some reason, probably to make up for the fact that he’s allergic
  
• Grantaire on the other hand…
• He’s in dire need of shirts that don’t have holes in them and don’t carry the pungent smell of paint. He also needs socks. BADLY. Bahorel hopes he can find clothes that will compliment those biceps of his, because dang boy, you should offer free tickets to the gun show more often
• Joly is quickly sorted out. Bahorel finds him some skinny jeans that will, apparently, “compliment his lil butt”.
• Grantaire is more complicated. He’s all self-deprecating comments and doesn’t think anything looks good on him. That’s not his colour. Neither is this one. Nor this one
• In the end, Baz gets him to buy several flannel shirts, a couple of skinny jeans, undershirts and the like
• Joly gets complimented all over during the next ABC meeting and twirls happily to show his new acquisitions off
• Grantaire arrived with rolled up sleeves and skinny jeans and Enjolras unconsciously snaps a pen into two.

Anonymous asked: Twisted By Simple Light

Maniacal cackling.  This would be/might actually someday be the title of the Fic We Shall Not Speak Of, previously discussed here.  I’m literally going to copy-paste because I’m so pleased with that summary.

Padme Naberrie-not-yet-Amidala is three when the Force comes to her, as strong as one of the great storms that close down all of Naboo, four when the Jedi turn her away for being too old, five when she begins teaching the Force to herself.

Surely emotion is not wicked at its core, young Padme says, surely not, and she reaches out, learns to shape the Force with her passions and her loves and her rages and her laughs, and it is warm and rich and wild and vicious and everything (and surely this cannot be the Dark Side).  

When she stands on the Tatooine sand and meets a boy who shines like a sun, some part of her mind (the part that’s seen people die because their vaunted politicians took too long to see them suffering, the part that’s seen wars start over petty arguments and diplomatic differences, the part that looks around Tattooine and thinks look at all these suffering people, if only I had the power to save them) says yesssss.  And she reaches out and she takes his hand and she stays in touch and she assures him that no, emotion is not wrong, love is not wrong, Attachment is not wrong, he is not wrong.  

One day…oh, one day he comes to her, wild-eyed, with the words of another person on his tongue and talk about Sith, and she does her research and she thinks look at all these suffering people, if only I had the power, and…

Well.  Padme only wants to help.  Surely the ends justify the means.  Surely this cannot be Dark, if it’s to save starving children and wounded soldiers and slaves.

And the Empire rises under the command of its Empress and her iron fist, Darth Vader.