#and it's a hard conversation to have

[beebfreeb]

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

[noodles-and-tea]

Non-speaking Cass joins the fray (Tim is confused)

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[bees-pees]

my friend thinks hes a damn poet

[suja-janee]

I’ve been losing my mind over these guys recently

[okaydiscount]

pretend gordon said smth benry thought was funny ig idk

hes just like me fr fr

[noonstate]

i need well meaning cis people to stop attemping to steelman trans healthcare conversations because it basically always ends with them just lying about easily checkable things "no minors are getting irreversible treatments" wrong not true "no minors are having surgery" also false, like instead just say the truth: currently some minors (few, but some) are able to access hrt that will have some irreversible changes on their body, some (even fewer) minors are able to access surgery.

the counter to transphobes screaming "these kids are being irreversibly changed" isn't "no children are accessing this care" it's "puberty is also an irreversible change" and "i think under 18s and even under 16s should be able to make medical decisions actually"

"no minors are accessing this care" means that transphobes can easily point to the examples of minors who are accessing that care, which just make us look like liars. sometimes teenagers and children need to make medical choices on their own. i think a 14 y/o should be able to get an abortion. i think trans kids and teens should be able to have the approriate care, which for some will just be like, picking a new name or haircut, and for some, sure, could be surgery.

[navyinks]

"dear cousin, let us talk"

the morning after.

yucky close ups:

[soldrawss]

I uh, started this as a little wholesome thing but it QUICKLY got out of hand, anyway part 2 here.

[morganbritton132]

Nancy is not just going to go out with Steve because he asked.

Yeah, she thinks he’s cute but there’s more to a relationship than that.

“Since when?” Steve complains at lunch, replaying this conversation to his friends. “And what’s there to improve? I’m an alright guy, right?”

“There’s nothing to improve,” Tommy replies.

“Your grades for one,” Carol says at the same time. She rolls her eyes at the blank look they both give her, “Wheeler is a nerd. Straight A’s probably get her horny. I don’t know what you see in her anyways.”

“She’s a total wet blanket,” Tommy agrees, and then after Steve mutters that he could get good grades, adds, “Yeah, you can. Easily, but you don’t have to. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

And now?

Now Steve’s got an A in geometry and going on a second date with Nancy Wheeler, and what?

“She just lost her self-respect?” Tommy asks bitterly, stabbing at his lunch while Steve is across the cafeteria with Nancy. “I thought she had standards.”

Carol taking the cookie off his tray, “I’m glad you’re being completely normal about this.”

[smokin-salmon]

Fuck it. *Makes the old woman cry*

[methoughtsphantom]

Jason “my family doesn’t know im alive” Todd and Danny “my family doesn’t know I’m dead” Fenton going alongside each of their plans my beloved. like Danny will absolutely go head-to-head with all of Gotham to support his new best friend on all his crime lord endeavors while he drags Jason to also attend collage with him. They are roommates and there never seems to a mention of family from either side. It’s an unspoken understanding they have. They met because Crime alley as a ghost lair thrummed with so much loneliness, it was at first the perfect place for Danny to hide his ecto signature in. But then he saw the dumbass whose lair it was lean his motorcycle just a tad too much when making a sharp turn to an alley, he sweeped the floor through a lifted chain link that passed his body but not his helmet. Yep that’s right the red thing got stuck. Danny who at the moment happened to be watching through his window snorted. Much to his horror because if not a ghost that dude could’ve gotten his head flung off.

Still, the scene was ridiculous.

On a whim he irrationally sees the police closing in on the guy and panicked at the thought of the guy using intangibility to free himself so Danny phased them both through his apartment wall and left the guy sprawled in his couch. Jason didn’t freak out but that’s normal when one’s got a concussion, one the guy immediately denied having as Danny laid out the medical supplies. The idiot proceeded to almost flatten four steps to the door with his stubbornness. He also said “I’m asexual” in the most deadpan voice as Danny dropped him back in the couch.

Danny sighed. Clearly though, he’d done so too early in the night because the guy kept trying to go, kept trying to knock Danny out, kept trying to slash him with knifes Danny didn’t know he had stashed. He’d only disarmed the guy from his guns. The visible ones apparently, cause at one point the guy did take out a gun and shoot until the ammo ran out and then teetered the thing like it was an art prop and hit his moon lamp.

Danny "yeah you aren’t officially my friend until you’ve tried to kill me" fenton my guys.

Anyways both keep having the same argument over if Danny technically kidnapped Jason or not. Danny holds the fact that the police at least didn’t see the guy make the ridicule. Jason argued that happened cause he was sporting a concussion. Danny argued he got that after.

Jason at first thinks the guy's a meta, but no. Danny introduces himself, sheepily now that he recognizes this is who the lair he invaded is from. He bandages him and tries to cook for him. If Danny didn’t have ice powers he most certainly would’ve burned the apartment. Jason then proceeds to kick him out of his own kitchen and make them both enchiladas. It’s the most normal both had in a while with another person and the air seems oddly settled. From then on, Jason constantly invited himself over, under the pretense that this was his territory and therefore he could drop in unannounced. Danny who has actual powers says he only allows this because Jason cooks very well.

Danny stays away from the crime fighting business unless his buddy is in deep shit he can’t get himself out. Also it’s Danny’s turn to cover for his vigilante friend which Sam and Tucker give him so much shit for. (but also advice)

And they were roommates. (omg) Danny effectively derails Jason’s big comeback plans by casually dropping ghost lore every two days. Like,

Jason, talking about how he doesn’t want Bats snooping on his territory:

Danny: Just don’t let them in

Jason: ??

Danny: yeah!! Hasn’t Batman died and got revived??? You can totally kick out death touched people you don’t want entering on your lair.

Jason: …I can?

Danny: Yep dude, your lair’s supposed to feel safe.

Jason: wait does that mean I can kick you out?

Danny: First this is my apartment. Second, im dead, not dead touched. Third, it’s too late to get rid of me. bitch.

Anyways Jason is super excited. You mean to tell him he can actually deny people over to his territory haunt?? (Yes it’s only to people who have died and came back but still!! The sample size is exactly the type of people he doesn’t want to see��!)

Joker my beloathed can’t step foot in Crime Alley.

(Jason’d feel a lot safer if the clown was dead but the possibility of his murderer turning into a ghost and their little loophole not applying on the clown is too scary to contemplate.)

Anyways, Jason loves experimenting with the power. It can go from simply making people shudder and not want to enter crime Alley to straight up not letting them enter like there’s an invisible wall blocking the way.

Jason because he’s hurt that Bruce never even patrols Crime Alley and also because he’s petty put B under the category of “invisible wall” blacklist. His reasoning is that the man doesn’t even attempt to enter Crime Alley. To him it’s surely just a place shadowed in tragedy. (anyways that’s it’s the place he met Jason)

Ironically, Jason totally forgets that Batman does venture into Crime Alley one day in the whole year. The day he met Jason.

Okay. He didn’t forget at first. The first year Jason remembers cause it was only a few months till then but then the next— Jason forgets that today’s the anniversary of the day’s Bruce’s parents died. He forgets to allow B in when he feels a slight tug and dismiss the feeling that prompts Bruce to investigate because he literally can’t enter Crime Alley. He starts the trialsTM, he scouts on the very edge and sees people the whole day enter and get out and cross with no problem but Bruce can’t.

It’s literally just Bruce.

Time to call Constantine, i guess.

[archer973]

One of the things I realized when I watched Fury Road directly after Furiosa:

Furiosa doesn't treat Max like she treated Jack. She treats Max like Jack treated her.

There are so many parallels - the way they meet, their conflict with each other that quickly turns to partnership, their journey to The Green Place (and how it fails)...

But where before it was Jack reaching out to her, now it's Furiosa who is asking Max his name, teaching him the kill sequence for the rig, trusting him to have her back in a fight, giving him everything he needs to leave (even when she wants him to stay).

Furiosa doesn't see Jack in Max, she sees herself. Everything from the muzzle to the nightmares to the fact that he barely speaks is a direct parallel to what she was like when she met Jack, and Furiosa knows it. And so as someone reached out to her, she reaches out to him, this feral, half-mad Wastelander. She reaches out and offers him hope, just like Jack did to her when he came back for her on the Fury Road.

And together, they find some kind of redemption

[zenruu]

if you're still boiling a character as complex as alistair down to anything along the lines of: himbo, idiot, soft baby without an idea of his own, haha funny cheese man i'm straight up burning your house down with lasers and sending you directly to hell.

if you genuinely believe that man is stupid, all you're doing is admitting that you yourself cannot see beyond the incredibly transparent veil he wants to put over your eyes.

what he is is insecure, and he wants you to think he's stupid so that he doesn't have to live up to expectations he fears he won't meet. shortly after meeting him you can call him out on using humor to deflect and make himself smaller and he ADMITS IT.

he repeatedly shows you just how intelligent he is and how aware of the ways of the world he is. his history knowledge, his understanding of the chantry and its control of templars and mages that goes far beyond nearly anyone else we as the player speak with, his emotional intelligence when it comes to understanding others' intentions and needs... and this is just a thoughtless little post with quick examples i conjured up in five minutes! i'm not even doing a deep dive here! how do so many people miss all of this?

this is not advanced reading of subtext, it's incredibly simple and i'm completely unsure how people don't understand this about him.

he's such a great character for so many reasons - his flaws being some of those reasons - but a lack of intelligence is simply not one of those flaws no matter how you spin it.

[ewwww-what]

Nobody is as excited about the preview as I am. I have paragraphs.

[killerpancakeburger]

Hmmmmm Angst with Happy Ending where Soap initiates all physical contact in your relationship and starts wondering if you're even enjoying it (+ gn!Reader who flinches at physical touch). 0.5k words.

Soundtrack: No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine

You're not used to physical touch.

It's not that no one ever touched you. But sometimes you can’t help flinching at unexpected contact. Whether you're anxious, have trauma, never been in a relationship before... In addition, your low self-esteem prevents you from touching Johnny as much as you'd like. There's always that voice nagging at the back of your mind, asking why he would even want to be embraced by you.

The first few times Soap startles you, he doesn't think much of it, believes you when you say it's nothing, or assumes it's a coincidence. You were focused on something or someone else, he took you by surprise. Then it happens. Etched into his memory. How he raised a hand towards your face and you recoiled like you thought he was going to strike you.

Once he starts to notice, he sees it everywhere, all the time. Paranoid speculations swirl in his mind. Is he being too clingy? Are you too nice to reject him? Is he pressuring you? Are you merely tolerating him?

The situation culminates to a long-overdue, embarassing, but necessary discussion about your boundaries. The complexity of swearing to him that you don’t just put up with his touch, that you adore it, and yet you can’t control your starts. That despite your relationship being official, you can’t just flick a switch and become completely comfortable with PDA overnight, like you've seen other couples do. There is a gap between what you desire and what your body allows you to do, and that rift may never be bridged.

"I'm sorry. I'm not doing it on purpose."

Arms wrapped around yourself for reassurance, you can’t even look him in the eye.

"Then you have nothing to be sorry for."

"But—"

Your protests shrivel in your throat the second you glimpse at his face. He's smiling, but his expression is tinged with sadness. He's in pain, yet he's suppressing it for your sake.

"I just want to know one thing, bonnie. Do you want me to stop? Touching you?"

"No!"

Your refusal comes out too loud, too harsh. You start again, softer.

"... No, I don't."

"Do you want me to warn you?"

“No. I mean… It would be awkward if... maybe do it in my line of sight? Or talk to me before? So I know you're there. But, more than anything, I want… to not make a big deal of it. Just act normal.”

“Got it.”

This time you dare to meet his gaze. He makes it sound so easy. But despite your reservations, when he opens his arms wide, you welcome his embrace unrestrained.

“... You don’t think I'm weird?” you hazard after a minute.

“Aw, Bonnie…” He kisses the top of your head. “I've seen soldiers with PTSD before who reacted like that. I just never dated one. I'm sorry I made it about me.”

“No, I understand how you felt. And I'm sorry I avoided talking about it.”

Closing your eyes to bask in the moment, you hug him more tightly.