If I mispronounce your name because it is foreign to my tongue, correct me.
I don’t purposefully allow the accents of your name to fall flat on my tongue like the European English demands or the language to sound chopped and misheard.
If I don’t say your name correctly, don’t shrug and say it’s ok because people have been doing it all your life. Your mother worked hard to name you that name, with all its syllables and apostrophes and hyphens and inflection.
I don’t want to disrespect your heritage, your culture, your great grandmother or grandfather and their struggle.
If I mispronounce your name, forgive me, but don’t let it happen again. Make sure everyone knows your name.
This
Please do.
I was named for a goddess, a fae creature who sacrificed her immortality for humankind. My name is Welsh and it mangles on the tongues of most people. It has taken me years to be able to correct people kindly but firmly.
I want to accord you the same respect I demand from others. Please tell me if your name tangles in the threads of my native language, or if my scattered mind twists the letters. I want to know you and your name is a part of you.
i would literally rather have darth vader be our next president than donald trump. if darth vader ran in the 2016 elections, and it came down to him and donald trump, i would vote for darth vader without even thinking
this post is interesting because it implies a future in which darth vader won the democratic primary
shout out to the vietnamese kids named phuc, dam, bich, son, dat, nga and so much more for enduring the namecalling and jokes about your name; you’re strong and beautiful.
& đông and dủng
lemme tell yall, my mom came to america when she was around 4 y/o and went to school in america and the white kids made jokes about her name becus her name was MyDung. when she was old enough she changed her legal name to a more “acceptable” one becus she was afraid it wouldnt b seen professional in america. she was too embarrassed to say her name out loud. when she did have to, she’d say it quietly. ever since i was a kid i would notice her behavior when ppl asked her name. so yeah fuckin SHOUTOUT to vietnamese kids w/ vietnamese names who get teased, yall amazing
Alright, this post has been going around and I think it’s high time for a lesson in Vietnamese. People who tease foreigners about their names, sit the fuck down and let me show you what those names mean.
_ “Phúc” (Phuc) means phúc đức, phúc hậu, hạnh phúc - kindness, merit and happiness. _ “Đam”, “Đàm” (Dam) mean yên tĩnh, yên lòng, an tâm - tranquility, calmness, relief. _ “Bích” (Bich) means ngọc bích, ngọc lục bảo - emerald, jade (can be understood as both the color and the precious gemstones). _ “Sơn” (Son) means núi, mạnh mẽ và uy nghiêm như núi - mountains, as strong and majestic as the mountains. _ “Đạt” (Dat) means thành đạt, vẻ vang - success, honor, glory. _ “Nga” (Nga) means xinh đẹp, tốt đẹp - beauty, kindness. _ “Đông” (Dong) means mùa đông, hướng đông - winter, East. _ “Dũng” (Dung) means dũng mãnh, anh dũng - strength, power, bravery. _ “Dung” (Dung) means xinh đẹp, yêu kiều - beauty, elegance, grace.
Can you see it? Can you see how beautiful these names are? And you dare compare them to your vulgar profanities?
Names are extremely important in Vietnamese culture. They represent the virtues, qualities, characteristics that parents want their children to possess. They represent the hopes and dreams of Vietnamese parents. THEY REPRESENT A VERY HUMAN BEING.
WHEN YOU TEASE SOMEONE ABOUT THEIR NAME, YOU ARE NOT ONLY INSULTING THEM, YOU ARE MAKING THEM ASHAMED OF THEMSELVES, OF THEIR OWN NAME AND THEIR OWN LANGUAGE, EVEN THEIR OWN ORIGIN.
DO NOT MAKE FUN OF OUR PEOPLE, DO NOT MAKE FUN OF OUR LANGUAGE AND DO NOT MAKE FUN OF OUR CULTURE.
do you ever just passionately miss the first series of doctor who but not just because you miss Nine but because you miss the monsters and the simple story lines that were new and so interesting and the companions that didn’t need a magic back story to be special and weren’t just a new puzzle for the doctor to solve they were just ordinary people with ordinary lives and taught (especially the young viewers) that anyone can be a hero i just really miss series one okay
But like, what do mutants think of non-mutant superheroes, do they dislike the idea of their own heroes being considered part of a second community? Would they not like it if they weren't? Would it be both? Do mutants not want to be considered part of a greater 'superhuman' community containing magic users, half gods and all these other things? What do mutants think of the new Inhumans showing up in the comics?
YEAH YEAH YEAH I LOVE THIS imo it doesn’t seem like the x-men in general consider themselves as part of the greater superhero community - even the ones who try to play nice with non-mutant superheroes seem to approach it from an outside perspective, which is interesting! and also not really surprising lbr
but yeah i bet the non-superhero mutants who are superhero fans probably don’t like associating the x-men with the rest of them, at least in general, and there’s probably a lot of discussion in social justice circles about how acting like the superhero community is one big homogenous mass erases the identity of mutant superheroes and their unique position as superhumans
I get so mad about people who insist that doctors went to med school so they can never be wrong about your health like ???? Some Doctors hate fat people??? Some doctors hate the mentally ill or give Helpful NT Advice instead of treatment??? My ob/gyn took four years and a strong arm from my mom to figure out I had pcos???
Doctors are not gods??????
I am a med student, literally currently going to medical school, and doctors are about 15% wonderful people who Care So Much It Hurts, about 60% Eh I Was Optimistic But Ill-Informed When I Chose This Life, and a solid 25% What The Fuck Is Wrong With You You Fucking Fucks Get The Fuck Out Of Medicine Oh Wait You’re Just Going To Retire After Decades Of Being A Bigoted Fuck-Up.
Doctors need to be held accountable. Right now, doctors are virtually never held accountable.
There are doctors who tell lesbians not to worry about STDs because they “can’t get any.” There are doctors who tell fat people to lose weight when what’s wrong is actually a) completely unrelated to weight and b) fatal. A doctor once refused to give me an IUD because I should “marry a nice young virgin man” instead of being a big ol’ queer slutbag. In my summer job reviewing medical records, I’ve seen three patients who were sent home with a disease that almost immediately killed them because the doctors (three different ones!) didn’t take CHEST PAIN seriously. One of my classmates, a future doctor, told me I was overreacting to the murder of Michael Brown and when I said the hell I am he said I must not UNDERSTAND THE ISSUES. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot my master’s degree in social psychology is just there to decorate my shelf! My tiny lady-brain can’t possibly comprehend anything important! I once heard a doctor brag about having forcibly sterilized a Latina woman who didn’t consent because she was an undocumented immigrant and “she had too many already.” He was receiving a LOT of federal research funding for his work with our research group. I’ve WATCHED doctors be horrible, bigoted fuck-ups.
Like, if these are things someone like me, who passionately believes in medicine to the point where I’ve willingly sacrificed a reasonably comfortable job, my free time for at least seven years of training, and my right to decide where I spend at least three years of my life (because we are obligated to go wherever we’re matched for residency), is seeing at one of the top academic medical centers IN THE WORLD, what the FUCK do you think is happening in the REST of the country, where they HAVEN’T attracted “top talent”?
Doctors are not better than other people. We just have less transparency and less accountability. That needs to change.
a list of aus for when your otp is really competitive
we’re both ‘team leaders’ at a summer camp for little people and you may be hot but goddammit my collection of twelve-year-olds are going to beat yours into the dust
we kind of got past the point of ‘taking this game of gay chicken too seriously’ when you took your pants off but I really do not mind at all.
I used to be the best baker in the neighbourhood but then you showed up at Mrs Appleby’s 80th birthday with a stack of brownies which almost gave me an orgasm my honour is at stake and I’m going all out for the next event
a mutual friend invited us to their laser tag party and we’re the last two alive on opposite teams and goddammit if I’m going down you’re going down with me
you’re going to be at the halloween party and you’ve won best costume for the past three years but this year I am wearing the best costume ever if you defeat me I will eat my - wait you actually look really cute when did you turn hot what the fuck um
we’re always making stupid bets like ‘bet you can’t drink this whole bottle of BBQ sauce’ but then you did and now you’re sick and I feel really bad here let me look after you
did you actually just blue shell me on our date you fucker
What people think self-diagnosis is:
"Wow that is sure one funny disorder, claiming to have that would surely give me a lot of attention on tumblr."
What self-diagnosis actually is:
"Wow, there's a name for this... There are terms for the things I do and experience and a community of people with similar experiences. There are coping methods and advice written for people like me. Maybe I'm not exaggerating, maybe I'm not making stuff up, maybe I'm not a failure... Maybe my experiences are completely valid."
Congratulations, you have an argument against a Black Widow movie. Now let me tell you why that argument doesn’t really work.
Okay, but she wasn’t really well known to the general public before the movies, so it’s probably best to keep her in a supporting role. It’s just too risky otherwise.
*points to Guardians of the Galaxy*
*also points to Antman, which absolutely no one was clamoring for*
Okay, but she’s too well known now. She’s been in several movies and is very important in the team movies. That’s enough, isn’t it? Give other characters a chance.
*points to three Iron Man movies, soon-to-be three Captain America movies, soon-to-be three Thor movies, and two unsuccessful Hulk movies*
*also points to the fact that in one of those movies an important, character developing scene for her got cut because it “slowed things down” and that will always be considered an acceptable loss until there’s a movie about her and her development specifically*
Okay, but now you’re getting a Captain Marvel movie and a Wonder Woman movie.
*points to twenty million superhero movies starring dudes*
*also points out that lady characters are not interchangeable and that a Black Widow movie would not be the same kind of movie as a Captain Marvel one*
Okay, but she doesn’t have any powers, and that’s not very interesting for a superhero movie.
*points to Batman and his gazillion movies*
*also points to James Bond, Bourne movies, and other popular spy thriller franchises*
Okay, but they follow a strict timeline, so it wouldn’t make sense to do another origin movie for an established character.
*points to her current successful comic run that has nothing to do with her origins but still somehow manages to find interesting stories to tell about her, like, how do they even do it*
Now seems like a good time to add this one…
Okay, but Marvel has a GRAND MASTER PLAN, and they can’t just change it, because plans NEVER change, okay, and it will throw everything off or result in a rush job of a movie.
*points to Spider-Man and laughs hysterically because of fucking course*
I can’t help but feel Max’s Interceptor is almost like a replacement for his lost family, in a symbolic sense. He sees the Interceptor as “home”. It’s how he says it in the comic too. So let me present to you some very sad thoughts I’ve had about this:
Max talking to the Interceptor as if it is Jess. Looking over to the seat next to him and imagining her laughing with him when they were young.
Max thinking about all the times he and Jess cruised together.
Max remembering how it felt to be a good man, driving that car, knowing people looked to him to be a hero. Him being okay with that, taking pride in that.
Max out on the road, late night of working, and he stops in the middle of nowhere just to look up at the stars to remember the world still has beautiful things to see. He looks over to the seat next to him and Jess’s image is there, smiling at him, agreeing that yes, there’s still beautiful things to see.
Max rolling up to the Citadel in a nearly battered-beyond-function Interceptor. It’s caked in mud, has had numerous thundersticks thrown at it, mirrors all gone. When a familiar face greets him, he feels so ashamed of his attachment to the car that he can’t bear to look at her, save a quick flash of red eyes.
Furiosa helping get the Interceptor into the garage, scooting under the it to inspect the extent of the damage. She says from under the mass of wrecked metal that it’s not so bad, not bad all. Max doesn’t believe her, he knows how bad the condition is.
Furiosa asks if she can look inside, and on Max’s nod she opens the door. She touches everything reverently and gently. She knows. She looks at Max and says “She’s a beauty. You’ve taken great care of her.” Max wants to look at her but he can’t, he stays with his back turned.
Days go by, nights go by. Furiosa doesn’t leave the garage. Max takes short walks to think, alone. He’s not sure about what he’s looking for anymore. When he goes back to the garage, he tells Furiosa, who’s been working for days, to get some rest. She simply replies that she’s never been a sleeper.
Max wakes up to see an empty space in the garage. Just outside he hears running water. He’s not alarmed at all, he knows Je—the car, is in good hands. She’d feel safe if she were here. He shuts his eyes again and drifts back off into daydreams.
When he finally wakes up, Max sees something that almost makes him think time has reversed. The Interceptor, almost glimmering in the sun, has returned to him. He is so amazed all he can do is stare, and walk around the car in a circle with his hands tangled in his tousled hair.
Furiosa says he should take her out, see how she feels. Max is almost giddy. He opens the door, sees the newly cleaned interior, or as clean as it can possibly be in this world. He goes to start the car, but he pauses, looks out from the window and nods over to Furiosa.
As much as she wants to go with him, she knows it’s not her place. “Go on, go, but come back and at least tell me how she does.” She wipes her dusty brow and begins to walk away, but Max calls back to her, “Hey” Again he nods to the other door, more insistently this time.
She gives in, but only because he asked twice. She wanted him to be sure it was ok.
As Max drives the Interceptor out onto the plains, he marvels at how smoothly she runs. She feels almost brand new. She’s still beat up, dusty, she’s been through everything with him, but she feels new. How? He swerves sharply to test the vehicle further, and he actually hears himself let out a laugh. For the first time in so long, he’s forgotten what it felt like.
Suddenly he hears another laugh, and he looks to the seat next to him. There’s a familiar face, but not the one he usually sees. Another laugh he’s never heard, another smile he feels he’s waited for for a long time. He feels more at home than he has in ages. But something feels wrong, too. He’s not supposed to feel like he’s home. That’s not the face he’s supposed to see. He turns to drive back to the garage when he slowly comes to a stop.
Furiosa asks him if the car’s feeling right to him. He doesn’t look at her, but instead steps out of the car. He nods to the seat, and then looks at Furiosa. She stares, gaping at him with a questioning face. She’s not sure she understands but she’s trying to. Her face is asking him if he’s sure. He walks around to the driver’s side and opens the door, motioning her to scoot over to the wheel. She does, but hesitantly.
Furiosa has been working with this car for weeks, she’s touched nearly everything on it with a steady hand. Suddenly, as she goes to grip the wheel, her hands, one flesh, and one metal, are unsteady, trembling. Max looks at her and then to the road ahead. She returns the gaze, and understands.
As she drives the car, she glances at Max before making any move, any decision. She feels the weight of every movement of the wheels, leaning just so on the ripping turns, shifting the gears on a dime. She smiles and lets a small laugh escape as a bit of dust flies up onto the windscreen. Max laughs too. He remembers this feeling like it was yesterday. Furiosa yells over the roar of the engine, “She’s perfect!” Max agrees.
It’s twilight as Max drives the Interceptor back to the Citadel. They’re far enough out that the stars are showing brighter than they do normally. Furiosa had rested her head in her hand on the door, and had fallen asleep. All the times he asked her to rest and she wouldn’t do it, but here she is, sleeping not unlike she used to. On those long, lazy drives together, just having fun. Just living, with no fears, no feeling alone.
Max suddenly finds he’s come to a slow stop. They’re on a small hill and can see the Citadel just in the distance. The sun is gone, but the sky is an array of colors not unlike the sunsets he loved from his home. He bows his head to rub his eyes, for some reason burning with wetness, when he glances over to the seat next to him. She’s still there. Normally, when the tears come, she disappears.
Max hears a whisper, not from the seat next to him, but from his open window, in the distance where the sun has set. “She is perfect, don’t you think? Good as new.” Max knew this voice. He knew it wasn’t real, but she sounded so real. “New engine, and lot cleaner than you ever kept her…” Max scanned the distance for her face but saw only the stars. He frantically looks to the seat next to him, desperate to ask something he needs to know but she’s not there. Only the sleeping face of this person that can’t answer what he needs to know, because she has the same question as he does.
Max gazes once more through moist eyes, out to the horizon in front of them. He sees a hazy figure just beyond the hood of the car. “She’s crazy ‘bout you, you know.” She turns just enough so that he can make out her delicate profile against the starlight. “It’s ok, Max.” He sees the shape of her mouth smile, and he collapses, head down, grasping the wheel of the Interceptor. He can’t quite say it, when he feels a hand rest on his shoulder.
“Hey”, she says, watching him in the now violet dusk. She can’t see his tears, but she hears the catching in his voice and the sniffs of his nose. He could do like most and claim it’s just the dust, an excuse she’s used countless times to disguise her own cries.
“Sorry”, Max says as he turns the car on and presses forward, to the Citadel. She tries to lighten the mood by telling him the Interceptor is probably the best car she’s worked on. She slides her weathered hand gently over the dashboard and tells him, “She won’t ever let you down.”
He simply nods, blinking away the last of the tears.
When they arrive, Furiosa takes a long, lasting look at the Interceptor. This car means to him something she can’t ask about, something she can never offer him. This piece of home. All she could do was try and make her strong again, for him, strong enough to keep him safe for however long he needed her. This place of rock and steel was not his home. It wasn’t even her home, but was the best she had. She looks up from the vehicle to ask if he needs anything more, saying they have plenty of food and water, and of course guzzoline. Anything he wants, he’s more than welcome.
Max looks at her through the dark, only barely sidelit from the fires of the encampments surrounding the entrance to the tower. When he doesn’t answer, Furiosa knows she’s offered what she can. It’s time for another goodbye.
“You…need a couple more hands in the garage…maybe?,” he mutters. “It’s ok…if you don’t.”
She stops dead in her tracks, facing away from him for a few moments, hiding her tearful smile. When she’s certain he can’t see much in the growing dark, she turns, and nods towards the gravely road. “Garage is this way.”
why do you hurt me this way…
OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU POSTING THIS AS FIC, DO YOU NEED AN INVITE?
*writes dystopian novel where a bisexual and asexual girl fall in love and save the world together along with their trans bestie and everyone is queer except for that one implied straight character*
This story sounds awful and unrealistic. Have fun appealing to a fraction of the potential market 👍
This story sounds amazing and I would read the hell out of it. It is called “fiction”, and I’m sure with the rising amount of queer identifying people who regularly consume media such as this, it would be a smash hit. Please sit down.
Writer: I’m gonna write a dystopian fantasy novel about young people who save the world
Cishets: Mhm yes very good very realistic
Writer: With queer characters
Cishets: woah hold up now, lets not get unrealistic
A bunch of queers doing stuff together would actually be the most realistic representation, actually. Because, you know, we tend to travel in packs. The One Gay Friend™
is pretty much a myth.
I also love how straight people complain that media with queer characters isn’t catered to them with lots of characters they identify with, like queer people don’t have that problem with 99% of all media
I…actually have basically this story planned and started. Main character’s a pansexual, her adopted younger sister’s a lesbian, their medic is trans (and totally my favorite, she’s competent as fuck), there’s a gay couple who mutually run a gang, the medic’s asexual girlfriend helps manage the people in the gang, their resident expert fighter is a real kickass nonbinary kid named Zee, and there’s one straight dude in the entire thing, I love everything in this universe. I literally don’t care if no one but me ever reads it. Rant over.
No protesters outside (I was kinda hoping to spot one in the wild tbh)
Locked doors, had to get buzzed in
Rather uninviting color scheme in waiting room
Kind, happy staff
A medium amount of paperwork that crams in a lot of really important questions, respect
Questions that would catch an abusive relationship, awesome
Questions for guys in case guys need STD tests and stuff, cool
A section for minors who need their visit to be a secret, damn these guys have their shit together
Over an hour of wait time but meh I was a walk-in and I have the Kindle app, nbd
Kind, happy nurses
Really no judgement
Offered me condoms
Had discount plans but I didn’t ask for one
Prescribed me birth control unlike some other fuckers I know who call themselves healthcare providers but just got shown up by Planned Parenthood, so there!
Reminder for those who don’t know, if you have a vagina, make sure to urinate immediately after you have P-in-V sex. Bacteria can get in your urethra during P-in-V intercourse so as soon as you are done having sex, go to the bathroom to pee, even if it doesn’t feel like you need to, because even a little pee can flush out the bacteria and prevent a UTI. I didn’t know about this and I got a UTI from my first time, and it was super awful and uncomfortable and unfortunately even those with good sex education rarely learn info like this. I want everyone with a vagina to know how to prevent it because UTIs suck hard. That is all.
Sex ed in this country is utterly worthless, always reblog. Never known when it might be seen with new eyes. Also, penis units should share with their vagina units if they don’t do this.
This is super important, I’ve gotten a UTI a couple of times before and it’s quite literally one of the most painful experiences I’ve ever had to go through (I even went to the ER) so please please pee after sex!!! 😭
*pulls up to the fanfic drive-thru window* uh yeah, i’ll take a fake relationship with a side of mutual pining and thinking the other isn’t interested, thanks
“would you like to super size that to a 50k incomplete?”
death: let’s see, who’s next–oh NOOO…. *groans but goes to mcgonagall* Death: professor, I’m afraid……I’m here to tell you….. Mcgonagall: *glares over spectacles at death* Death: that–oh never mind! Happy 189th birthday Minerva. Goodbye
Television Networks:
They cant be gay bc ratings will drop and quite frankly you need to stop pushing your agenda on us.
Netflix:
YOURE GAY! AND YOURE GAY! HAVE MULTIPLE GENDER IDENTITIES! WOLFGANG'S DICK!! TWICE!?!?!? POC GAY CHARACTERS!! WE MIGHT EVEN HAVE GAY CANNIBALS WHO KNOWS? I SURE DON'T BUT ITS GONNA BE GAY!
lmao on the edinburgh zoo site it says “there is a daily penguin parade at 14:15 but it may be cancelled last minute as it is a voulntary parade, we do not coax the penguins with food, and they may not want to go out” lmao anarchopenguinism
okay can we talk for a minute about Leverage and how Nate and Maggie are estranged at the beginning of the show
but there is just so little hostility and instead a lot of confusion and regret
but they wind up in a much better, closer place at the end
even get a little closure over the death of their son
BUT
them getting back together isn’t a plot thing at all
jealousy between her and Sophie is not an issue
Nate is never forced to choose between them
there is no regretful “i will miss you but i see how happy you are with her/him” scene at the end
the whole team rallies to save her butt when she’s framed for stealing that Faberge egg without question
instead of being bitter and trying to get in the way of the team, she helps the team out not just on the job that will allow her to get revenge on the guy whose policies led to their son’s death, but on a totally unrelated, earlier job
the script was so good and the character stuff so good we don’t feel like Maggie got shafted and Nate “got the girl”
i mean, unless i am forgetting about scenes or something, there’s all these really frustrating things they COULD have done, and they just didn’t
and the whole show was like that
it openly acknowledged the attractiveness of ALL their leads (Nate was a bit of a mess, but that’s Nate) and Eliot and Hardison (in that order) were the most casually sexualized (Sophie pretty much sexualized herseif, and it was almost always done as part of a con, on her own terms); Parker was not really sexualized at all, despite being cute as hell and even taking her top off in front of the boys – we believed she was sexy, we didn’t have our nose rubbed in it
the suffering of women was never depicted in a sexual way, in any way that made it look attractive
female incompetence was never a theme
“natural” female superiority was not a theme (those
”haha silly men can’t do anything right” sorts of depictions often come from a place of male insecurity, not female empowerment)
the boys on the team showed complete respect for Sophie, even though she was the “sexy one”
as the boys on the team came to understand how broken Parker really sorta was and how “odd” even aside from that, they rallied to supporther, not fix or take advantage of her, and they accepted her oddness even though it often aggravated them and sometimes led them to gloss over what she was saying as Parker weirdness (the jury episode where she tries to tell them that something is fishy and they dismiss her – actually very realistic but not done too painfully) Parker was never shown in a light that made her look inadequate because of her “shortcomings” which were really just the facts of her existence
the whole premise of the show revolved around righting the wrongs created by capitalism, even if not every episode explicitly went there
and the characters oh god my heart
every one of them was a treasure, someone i could fall in love with
Eliot was an Okie from a blue-collar background, and was a rough guy, but was never shown to be sexist in any way despite how attached sexism is to the trope of the tough southern dude who loves horses and beer and country music; he was violent, but his arc was not to unrealistically eschew that violence … rather, he channeled it into protecting, not destroying; he had very real feelings, not just caricatured reactions to things
Parker was not involved in a romantic tug-of-war between other teammates, she was never a narrative device to create romantic tension within the team; she arguably was the glue that stuck Eliot (protective big brother) and Hardison (darling loving cinnamon roll) together in that OT3 relationship that pretty much everyone who watched the show realized existed
Sophie was incredibly sexy and manipulative and this was never thrown in her face via slut-shaming or making her out to be an awful person or turning her into any of the unflattering stereotypes that sort of character often gets turned into; also, there was no running gag where she slept with every member of the team (no that it would have been bad if she had, just that sort of thing tends to get handled really badly)
Hardison, our beloved incredibly multi-talented genius with a heart of gold, was Black, but they didn’t write him like a white character or have him speak like a white character; he was also the most stable and gentle and soft-spoken member of the team, IMO, which is not how you would expect a show to depict the sole Black teammate
Nate was an alcoholic whose addiction was treated realistically and with respect, was not over-dramatized, was not magically “cured”, was acknowledged by the team without there being a major intervention plotline, didn’t function as a real liability team-wise, and was never played as a device to keep him away from Sophie by having her deliver an ultimatum he couldn’t meet; it was a part of his personality, not all of his personality, and while addiction recovery narratives are important, not everything about an addict has to be about that, any more than all gay love stories have to end in tragedy
it was just a really, really good show, you guys, grounded in real feelings and issues without being too dark, hilarious without being mean, and feelsy without being saccharine
i love it so much and sometimes i just have to gush about it
BB if you’re going to talk about Leverage like this you can always talk for way, way more than just a minute.
