Possibly my spiciest take is that it's actually good to have people you respect and like that have some dogshit takes.
I think part of what is making young people lonelier, in discussing why they're increasingly isolated, is that they're so afraid of meeting someone who doesn't hold their same beliefs, and instead of being just core beliefs it is kinda ancillary shit.
It's actually okay to disagree even on social topics! Even on some political ones! But I mean, online you can start with "i love this mutual but they have a really bad/uninformed opinion about x media"
I know this is IMMEDIATELY going to be taken in bad faith, and yes babygirl, you are so right, I DO want you to go make best friends with both the KKK grand wizard AND your nearest nazi leader.
But seriously, as someone who has spent two decades doing community organization: finding ways to connect with different people is so so so important. There are people i follow here who ate 80% smart and their brain falls out of their head 20% of the time and that is GOOD FOR MY MENTAL ECOSYSTEM AND GOOD FOR LEARNING HOW TO BE A PERSON
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"You're not always nice but you're kind. And you're not perfect but you're good,"
Supergirl 2026 CHANGED me, please don't listen to assholes online who tell you not to see it. Especially if you're a girl or a young woman- this movie is for you.
Personally, I was really upset when I went to go watch the film. Which is why I found it resonated with me more. Lately it’s been… I don’t even have the words for it. Seeing Kara be messy, & try despite it all honestly helped. I really want to be someone like Superman, though I find myself a lot like Kara in someways. Being consumed by grief & emotions at times. Though still trying to do good.
A thing I really appreciate about supergirl is that Kara is never shown to be pretty. Yeha she is pretty regardless because they casted milly fucking alcock but the never show her to be put together. They let her be messy. They let her be rude. They let her fuck up. Every time we see strong confident women in media they are always wearing the tightest bodysuit and look beautiful even when they have been beaten to shit. Not here. Every scene Kara is in she looks like a car had run over her. And they don't "transform" her and make her look prettier by the end to show that she has started to heal. Nah they keep her like that and they change how she acts. I love supergirl.
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this is not an original observation but i really do think so many of BBC Merlin's problems stemmed not from bad politics but from the fact that it was trying to be Arthurian Smallville
SO i confess i have not seen Smallville but the consensus seems to be that it's a solid, competently written television show. BBC Merlin is, um. Not That.
here is the first of the show's major Smallvillisms:
okay so in Smallville the fact that Clark Kent has superpowers is a secret. I cannot speak for Smallville in particular but Clark Kent keeping his powers a secret generally works for audiences bcos 1) it is a core element of the Superman narrative. if he was just publicly Superman that would feel weird and jarring. 2) Clark Kent is a nice and good boy and we understand that he is keeping his secret with the best of intentions
the secret superpowers angle is completely foreign to the Arthurian mythos however; in fact it's kind of the opposite of the usual deal with Merlin as a character? but they wanted to do Young Merlin with a Clark Kent thing going on. OK. now they need a reason why his magic is a secret.
uhh it's bcos they made magic illegal. who made magic illegal? the king. not Arthur obviously. different king. we want to keep the whole Camelot/royal court aspect tho so instead of doing the usual King Arthur backstory he's just uhh normal prince. and magic is illegal bcos it killed his mother. okay now we're cooking with gas. but obviously we want the villains to mostly be other magic users for Merlin to fight. why are these other magic users trying to Get Arthur? well they are mad that his father banned magic. and Merlin has to protect Arthur bcos he's going to be King Arthur one day and save the land. so Merlin's gotta explode all the other magic users. he gotta!!
it never really works partly bcos it's just not an established Arthurian Thing and also bcos it renders basically everything Merlin does extremely sketchy? I don't think it's inherently a problem that he's a morally dubious protagonist (if anything Merlin is kind of traditionally a little bit evil) but the show wants him to be a Good Boy like Clark Kent and frames him as such even though he keeps blowing up other magic users with legitimate grievances. its very strange!!
Morgana has THAT arc bcos Smallville has a whole thing where Lex Luthor and Clark Kent are childhood friends.
i re-iterate that I haven't seen Smallville but I imagine Lex being the guy in the friend group who is going to turn out evil works bcos Lex Luthor's whole thing is that he's an asshole rich white man. definitely possible to do a character like that who's sympathetic whilst still having it ring true for the audience that they're just gonna be a bad guy.
and like they maybe COULD have made this work with Morgana? but here i suppose we do get into the straight up just bad politics, doing Morgan Le Fay but she's Lex Luthor would maybe involve leaning into the privilege she has as a noblewoman (effectively a princess) but instead they just u know victimised her over and over and then when she snaps and starts exploding people it's like wow Morgana i can't believe you're evil now. stop exploding people Morgana. only Merlin is allowed to explode people.
it's like, i don't know. they didn't realise they couldn't just go directly from s1-2 Morgana (was end of s2 the switch? I forget) to 'oh she's just evil now' without it being really weird and jarring? they didn't realise that a female character could have motives for being evil that didn't revolve around all the men in her life abusing her?
but like im hesitant to even come down on it too hard for being sexist (even tho it was) bcos first and foremost its just stupid. wym she's just evil now. you didn't earn that at all. what are you DOING.
it all comes back for me to that part in s1 where we realise that Sophia's father is and was always planning to sacrifice himself for her and Sophia is distraught and suddenly these 2 characters who hitherto have been straight up evil gain a new sympathy and depth and its like oh no what are they gonna do!!
and then Merlin rocks up and explodes them both. just blows them up like bombs. and its like ok that COULD be a really interesting character moment for him but it. its not. bcos really blatantly what's going on there is they were like 'ok we're out of time, wrap it up folks. Merlin comes in and explodes the bad guys like bombs.'
it feels weird & jarring not bcos it was morally bad behaviour on Merlin's part but bcos straight up its just bad writing.
eta not gonna reblog this again but the OTHER issue w the Smallvilling is that it means Merlin is constantly not just lying by omission to Arthur but flat out lying to his face, manipulating him, on occasion straight up brainwashing him?
and like Clark Kent DOES on occasion engage in acts of gaslighting. see for example this scene. but in that instance its like well yes he did go to great lengths to deceive her but also she jumped out a window in an attempt to force him to reveal his secret so i don't think either of them come out of it great.
ok i said i was done but i am back with another aspect on this:
so Arthur is an asshole in s1. this is fine. he is at the beginning of his growth arc. Merlin training a young Arthur up to be a better king is a Thing in Arthurian literature and this is a different angle on it but nonetheless. growth arc!!
except um. it never really happens? like yeah he matures and becomes less of a manchild as the show goes along but his improvement is pretty limited.
and its like well yeah bcos he can't actually Learn anything. he must remain at all times a buffoon who is oblivious to Merlin's secret magic. he can't ever be like 'hey maybe magic isn't 100% evil after all' or 'hey maybe there's something up with my manservant' without challenging the status quo of the show. and the status quo of the show (i MUST stress this was directly stated by the creators) is that Merlin must remain Clark Kent.
In science it's important to resist the natural human impulse to ascribe telos to inanimate things. The things we study simply are; while their interactions may reliably produce certain outcomes, this does not imply that the production of these outcomes is what those things are "for". So, yes, the ray often causes death, but that doesn't make it a "death ray".
#Helios was declawed by his former owners so he doesn't just slap things he dislikes like most cats#he really only feels confident in hissing at them#Especially because a lot of the thing he doesn't like are bugs and those are sharp sometimes :(#Selene has figured this out and now when she hears him hiss she sprints over the kill the fuck out of the bug#Helios has learned she will do this so he'll hiss at stuff louder and louder until she hears him#A nervous old man and his emotional support homicidal maniac
tags by @gallusrostromegalus
I couldn't reblog without the tags because the context is hilarious
A Nervous Old Man (right) and his Emotional Support Violence Machine (Left)
Yes, he is more than twice her size.
Yes, he is five times her age.
Yes, he cries like a big baby until she kills Unacceptable Scary Things (earwigs) for him.
the Entire Point of the batman mythos to me is making something meaningful out of a random and pretty senseless act of violence, and then helping a bunch of other people do that too. every time a writer makes joe chill a time traveler or dick grayson have a magical tooth or gives jason todd the blood of the ancients and everything is just a massive conspiracy or whatever the fuck they're just completely missing the point, which is that painful things happen, for reasons we may never understand, and we have to contend with them.
that's the staying power of the fantasy! it's not actually being a billionaire who can beat up a million ninjas with his bare hands and has a really cool car. if you think that's the fantasy you got caught up in the trappings. it's that you could take the worst moment of your life and make meaning out of the howling empty void of grief by using it to help people!
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I just watched Avatar for the first time all the way through, and yeah, it’s great, but the one thing that surprised me was how different Katara was compared to the fandom interpretation I’d seen and internalized before watching.
Like, before you watch Avatar, you’ve seen all these memes about Katara and her mom, and based on those memes, you assume it’s one of those lines you have to get used to hearing at least once every episode. But then you watch the show and realize that she only talks about her mom maybe five or six times per season and you also realize she only brings her up when she’s trying to comfort someone or empathize with them because that’s how she processes her grief and that’s one way she connects with people.
Or you hear the infamous line, “then you didn’t love [our mother] the way I did” and you prepare yourself for one of the worst character assassinations ever only to see the scene after nearly three seasons worth of context and realize she was kinda right. She’s been the mother, the nurturer, the comforter. She’s been patient, gentle, and accommodating where everyone else has gotten to be insensible and reckless and childish, and the one moment where she allows herself to feel her grief, suddenly she’s this evil bitch and not, y’know, a 14 year old girl whose been thrusted into adulthood in a way no other character has. A 14 year old girl who should be allowed immaturity and raw emotion and anger instead of the patience and grace she’s been forced to extend to every character without even the smallest amount of gratitude or even consideration in return.
Or you see all of the clips where Katara puts Aang in the “friendzone” and you expect to have this wishy washy back and forth where Aang is putting his feelings out there only to have Katara neither commit nor express any clear reciprocation or rejection. Then you watch and realize that, as cute as the ship is initially, that there’s never a point where Aang returns any comfort or grace to Katara despite her always doing this for him to the point of coddling. That for as much as Aang says he loves her, he never seems to outgrow his perception of her so he can recognize her as someone who feels grief, anger, and pain as much as she expresses love, kindness, and maturity. And instead of having moments where he learns to see her beyond her strength or compassion, you’re instead given moments where Aang forces his feelings onto her, both romantic and non-romantic, and Katara is expected to just…shoulder those feelings the way she shoulders everyone else’s.
Katara is the most misunderstood character in the show. As much as people recognize the complexities of Zuko, Sokka, and Azula, they struggle to do the same for Katara because they see her struggles as somehow lesser, and therefore, less deserving of sympathy. They can handle her so long as she’s being endlessly patient and loving and kind, but the moment her endless love, patience, and kindness runs out, she’s suddenly this annoying bitch who can’t shut up about her mother or reciprocate Aang’s feelings. But Katara’s trauma does matter as much as anyone else’s. No, she wasn’t banished from her kingdom. No, she didn’t lose her entire community, and no, she isn’t the only one who lost her mother. But the difference between her and everyone else whose experienced loss because of the Fire Nation is that she’s never given time to process her trauma. Aang gets to lean on Katara constantly. Toph gets to express her feelings to Katara, and yeah, Sokka also lost their mother, but unlike Katara, he isn’t put in the position of being a substitute for everyone’s parent. He even admits that he sees his sister as a mother. The only characters who ever comfort Katara or allow her to vent is Zuko and her father and that’s, like, three scenes in a show where the other characters are consistently given opportunities to seek out Katara for unconditional support.
The fandom interpretation of Katara has been so bastardized that even those who haven’t watched the show know her for this fanon version and not for who she is. She’s such an interesting character beyond her fandom limitations, though. She’s brave, hot-headed, and hopeful as well as gentle and caring. She wishes to learn waterbending, not only because she wants to fight in the war, but because she wants to continue her culture’s practices because, and people often forget this, she also lost an entire subculture within her already fractured tribe. And she wants to defeat the Fire Nation both because of her deep love and empathy for other people, but also because she wants to avenge her mother. But because some of the fans have reduced Katara to a bitch who constantly whines about her mother and friendzones Aang, you wouldn’t know any of this, and it sucks because she’s the only character whose been dumbed down to such an extent.
I am sort of frustrated about that post I made about Google Gemini giving an AI summary of Tumblr users if you google a URL because it quickly turned into a long post where people started sharing all the things the AI got wrong about them, and I'm not saying it isn't good for a laugh when an AI is wrong, but I feel like people are missing the point. Who cares if the AI offers information about you that's wrong? What's worrying is all the information the AI got right.
That initial accidental google I did of a mutual returned an AI summary that was absolutely correct, and featured information about them that would not have been obvious from a quick perusal of their blog. The first few times I googled myself the AI overview was 100% correct. The version of that post that is circulating is not the one where I shared that the AI gave me someone's real name. I had hoped that it had screwed up and it wasn't their real name after all, but no, I checked with them, and just by googling someone's Tumblr URL, I got their honest to goodness legal name. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Like yeah I get that it's fun to go, "Haha, AI bad at collecting information," but that's not the problem. The problem is that sometimes AI good at collecting information, and it can collect a lot more a lot faster than a normal human can, by running multiple searches simultaneously and cross-referencing a lot of different documents all in a few seconds, for a level of snooping that would take a real person hours or even days, if they could do it at all.
That is so dangerous and I need people to be angrier about the fact that Google thinks it's okay to let their AI do this for online users. If you google your legal name and you're not already famous the AI won't say shit. Because that would be creepy and invasive! So why does Google think it's all hunky dory to do it for random internet users?
If you're reading this and thinking that sounds incredibly scary/unsafe, please go into your blog settings and make sure the setting to discourse external searching is turned on!!!!
^ it should look like this ^
I've had that setting on for a long time. When I saw this post I tried googling my account and no AI summary appeared. I decided to experiment, and I turned that setting off and googled my url again–that time the AI summary appeared. It got a lot wrong, but it did get some things right, and had a concerning amount of information considering a few minutes before the AI summary didn't even appear. It also had the state I live in listed, accurately. That's not something I'm super secretive about, I have said it on here before, but it's also not something I necessarily want an AI telling someone umpromted just because they Googled my URL–frankly I think it's absolutely insane that the AI is able to do that without people questioning it. I quickly turned the discourage external searching setting back on, and I'm no longer getting the AI overviews. But it's definitely something we all should be aware of–especially on other social media sites that don't have that feature.
[ID: screenshot of a setting turned to the on position. It reads:
Discourage external searching of apollomission8
External search engines like Google or Yahoo will be discouraged from indexing your blog and showing it in search results. It is ultimately up to them to honor your request.
Lyra, my beloved cat of 13 years, passed away this year on Father's Day. She's been by my side through very difficult times and was my little rock of steady and unrelenting love. I struggled a lot drawing this, and struggled a lot posting it, but I know I would've wanted to read a comic like this that validated my grief for her when I lost her.
Wherever you are, Lyra my little summer star, I love you always! Thank you for being the best thing in my life.
:3 is my favorite. Full of deceit and silliness. The jester’s face. The culmination of all that’s chaotic and ever changing.
:) can be ominous, if it’s alone or accompanied by odd context! But sometimes, it’s yer friendly ol smile.
:] is a friendly face. That is a friend. Look at it. What harm could it possibly do?
TLDR; I got lost on the highway a few weeks ago at 1am and called my husband instead of using maps and I can’t stop thinking about it so, I wrote something.
There is a kind of romance that does not arrive dressed as romance.
It is not always flowers on a table or music swelling at the exact right moment. It is not always a hand on the small of my back in a crowded room, not a confession under rain, not the kind of love that makes itself obvious enough for anyone watching to understand it.
Sometimes it is late at night, and I am tired, and I missed an exit.
Sometimes it is me alone in the car, somewhere I did not mean to be, staring at roads that should have made sense and did not. The sky was dark in that way that makes every street feel like it’s simultaneously one you know you’ve seen before but don’t recognize at all.
I had a phone in my hand. I had maps. I had a small glowing machine built to know exactly where I was and how to get me anywhere I wanted to go.
But I didn’t open Maps first. That is the part I keep returning to.
My body didn’t reach for the app. My mind did not reach for the most logical solution.
Some older, quieter part of me reached for him.
There is a shortcut on my phone to call him, and without thinking, thats what my thumb found. Not because I was helpless. Not because I didn’t know there were other ways home. But because instinct is honest in a way the rest of us are not always brave enough to be. Instinct does not explain itself. It does not build a case. It simply reaches for what it trusts.
And in the dark, lost and tired and past the point of wanting to be capable, I trusted him. I reached for him.
He answered on the second ring, and I was annoyed at myself. I could hear it in my own voice, the embarrassment under the frustration, the way being lost felt bigger than it was because I was already so worn down. I told him I had gone the wrong way, that I didn’t know where I was, that I needed help getting home.
And he laughed.
Not meanly. Not like I was foolish, though I am. Not like the wrong turn was evidence of anything wrong in me. I could hear the smile in his voice.
He laughed like a he knew me. Like of course this is where the night had gone. Like of course I had managed to miss an exit and turn a simple drive into a small, private disaster. Like of course I was calling him instead of putting it into maps.
There is a tenderness in being known that deeply, even when what is known is ridiculous.
He told me to give him a second. I could hear him shifting, pulling up my location, finding the little dot that was me on a map somewhere away from where I was supposed to be. And then he did what he has done in more ways than I think either of us have counted.
He found me.
Not dramatically. Not with some grand declaration. He found me in the practical, ordinary way. The way love often survives when it is no longer new enough to perform for anyone. He looked at where I was, figured out where I needed to go, and started guiding me back.
“Turn there.”
“No, not that one.”
“Keep going. Past that light.”
“You’re okay.”
“I’ve got you.”
His voice came through the car speakers, calm and familiar, and I followed it. I followed it the way I have followed his presence through so many versions of myself. The girl I was. The woman I became. The person I am still becoming. I have changed so many times inside this one life, and somehow there he was, still on the other end of the line, still finding the shape of me on a map, still telling me how to come home.
It should have been a small thing. Maybe it was a small thing. But sometimes the smallest moments tell the truth most cleanly.
Because there I was, lost in the dark, and the truest thing in me still knew where to reach.
There are loves that feel like beginnings. There are loves that arrive like an open door, like a first page, like a spark catching where everything is dry and ready. But there is another kind of love too. A love that feels less like beginning and more like return. A love that is not always easy, not always soft, not always fluent in the language I wish it spoke, but still woven into the body so deeply that even tiredness knows its name.
He is woven into me like that.
Not only in the beautiful places. Not only in the easy memories or the photographs where we look young enough to believe time will make everything simple. He is woven into the difficult places too. Into the years where we loved each other badly because we were still learning what love required. Into the silences. Into the missed chances. Into the hurts that shaped me, not because hurting is sacred, but because surviving it made me more honest. More careful. More aware of what I need. More unwilling to let love become something assumed instead of tended.
There are things I carry because of him that are heavy.
There are also things I carry because of him that are sacred.
And sometimes they are tangled so tightly together that I cannot separate one from the other without losing the truth of the whole story.
I do not believe love is proven by pain. I do not believe suffering is what makes something real. But I do believe that a real life leaves marks, and he is part of the life that marked me. He is in the architecture. In the beams and load-bearing walls. In the rooms I have outgrown and the rooms I am still trying to make livable. He is in the foundation, not because foundations cannot crack, but because even a cracked foundation can still be worth repairing when the house is home.
And he is home.
Not because everything is easy there. Not because I have never felt lonely in the rooms we built. Not because the lights have always been on.
But because when I am lost, I still call.
Because when the night gets too dark and I can’t find the road, some part of me still believes his voice will know how to reach me.
That is not a small kind of love. It is not the kind that always knows what to say. It is not the kind that always arrives polished, poetic, or dressed in the exact words I was aching to hear. Sometimes it is clumsy. Sometimes it misses. Sometimes it stands in the doorway holding the wrong tool, trying to fix a wound it does not understand yet. Sometimes it loves me in a language I have to translate before I can feel it.
And still, it is love.
Still, it is the voice on the other end of the line. Still, it is the laugh that knows me. Still, it is the person who does not need me to be graceful before helping me home.
There are moments in a relationship that look too ordinary to keep. They slip past without ceremony. Someone fills a water bottle. Someone takes the trash out. Someone warms up the car. Someone answers the phone when the other person is lost and too tired to pretend they are not. No one writes songs about these things. No one tells you, when you are young, that this is where the vows hide after the wedding is over.
But I think vows live there more than anywhere else. Not in the saying of forever, but in the small returns.
The answer. The search. The voice saying, I see where you are. The patience to guide someone back, even if they should have known the way. The willingness to be called.
The willingness to come home.
I think about that night and I think about how love can be both a wound and a compass. How someone can hurt you and still be the person your body trusts in the dark. How a marriage can feel strained and still contain moments so tender they almost ache to look at directly. How it is possible to miss someone while they are beside you. How it is possible to love someone and still be trying to find them again.
Maybe that is what we are doing. Maybe we are not beginning. Maybe we are returning.
Not to the people we were when we first loved each other. Not to the old versions, preserved in memory, easier to hold because they ask nothing new of us. Not to the fourteen-year-old girl and the sixteen-year-old boy who could not have known what time would do. Not even to the newly married versions who thought love would keep translating itself without being asked.
The return is not backward. The return is toward. Toward the people we are now. Toward the harder honesty. Toward the kind of love that has to learn new roads because the old ones no longer take us where we need to go.
That night, I didn’t need him to make me feel better by pretending I had not taken the wrong turn. I did not need him to tell me the dark was not dark. I did not need him to rescue me from the fact that I was tired, turned around, and frustrated.
I only needed him to find me there. Exactly there. And he did. He found me without making me prove I deserved finding. He found me without turning my wrong turn into a failure. He found me without asking any questions about why I missed the exit.
He found me and brought me back.
I think that is the kind of love I am still reaching for. Not perfect love. Not effortless love. Not love that never loses the road. But love that can say, from wherever we are, I see you. I am here. Turn toward me. Keep going. You are not too far. We can still get home.
And maybe that is why the memory keeps glowing in me. Because it was late, and I was tired, and I was lost.
Because I had every map in the world in my hand, and I called him anyway.
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All day the stars watch from long ago
my mother said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know
look at the old house in the dawn rain
all the flowers are forms of water
the sun reminds them through a white cloud
touches the patchwork spread on the hill
the washed colors of the afterlife
that lived there long before you were born
see how they wake without a question
even though the whole world is burning
Recent discourse reminds me of that cult indoctrination trick that's often used to weed out more difficult marks early on, where they tell you all that you aren't allowed to eat rice on Tuesdays and then if you protest they go "wow SOMEBODY likes rice a little much huh" as if you're the fucking weirdo who cares too much about how much rice is consumed between Monday and Wednesday instead of them.
And this forces you to decide whether your autonomy matters to you more than the approval of the group - while they'll still act like you're on thin ice either way, if you give in at this point they know you're theirs forever, because now they've established a foothold, you've shown a moral weakness, which they will brand you with so it can be used against you in the future ("hey RICE-addict here doesn't want help break into the city records office") to force you to double-down and isolate you further.
And if instead you do decide to push back further, after your abrupt departure from the group ("You're seriously leaving us over RICE?!? Seriously?") and subsequent ostracism, you can then be used as a demonstration to the others who were more pliable, of how the outgroup is full of people like you who are obsessed with violating the No-Tuesday-Rice rule to the point where they'll abandon all their friends, who cared so much for them, so it clearly isn't an arbitrary restriction, you're the kind of monster these rules are intended to protect them from, thus all the other wise and esoteric precepts of the charismatic leader are implied to be equally justified.
This isn't just for cults either! Shitty partners, bosses, friends - they all do variants of this where if you kick back the first time they make an unreasonable request, it proves you weren't ever committed since you'd let such a small thing ruin everything. And of course, if it's the third or the tenth unreasonable thing they ask of you, it's SUCH A SMALL THING to be a deal-breaker at this late point in your relationship!