rick riordan made his bones with pretty vanilla YA fantasy and then when he was too successful to stop hit em with the Muslim valkyries and the genderfluid homeless teenagers
ppl are so annoying “you can’t paint ur bedroom pink you’re an adult” i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige
I had a sales woman in furniture store try and tell me not to buy a hot bubblegum pink loveseat because she wanted me to “think about the future”
Bitch, I am thinking about the future. I already got a hot bubblegum pink couch at home and now I need a loveseat to go with it.
when I first bought my house, I announced my decision to paint my bedroom purple. I had wanted a purple bedroom for thirty damn years, you fucking bet I was gonna have one now. My friends decided, for some reason, that I meant what one of them referred to as “14 year old girl purple” (through what’s wrong with the colors a 14 year old girl chooses, I don’t know, even if they’re not what I want as an adult). They didn’t believe me until they saw the color on the actual wall, even thought they helped me pick out paints. My mother, meanwhile, decided to get worried that if I painted my bedroom a “dark purple”, it would be “depressing”. As if, with an entire house to live in, I would spend all my time in the bedroom, which I wanted to be dark because I would be sleeping in there. In the damn dark.
I had like one, maybe two friends who were all like FUCK YEAH YOU PAINT IT WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT, PURPLE BEDROOMS ARE AWESOME.
But when they actualy saw the finished bedroom, every single one of them was like, “Oh yeah, that’s really pretty.” (Well, the ones who supported me from the beginning were more like WOOHOO.)
And the moral of the story is: Fuck ‘em, please yourself. Either they’ll come around, or you can safely ignore every question of taste they opine about for the rest of time.
This applies to other adulting activities, too. When I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to have a wedding cake made of doughnuts. When I got older, I figured that I would be “mature” about it and get a traditional cake, which the older adults approved of. Now that I’m 25 and facing the possibility of actual marriage in the near future, I’m just like “marriage is a social construct but it comes with tax & insurance benefits, so just give me that goddamn doughnut cake.” If they don’t like it then they don’t have to come to my wedding.
when i was a kid, i wanted to paint my room dark green. my parents were convinced it would be claustrophobic and depressing. i was like “no it will be like a mossy forest bower.” they were like “we cannot afford to redo it if you’re wrong.” i was like “i will with my own hands scrape and repaint it if i’m wrong.” so they got me forest green wallpaper, and i loved it.
i loved it so much, in fact, that now, at 45, in the home i own, i have almost exactly the same wallpaper, and base my decorating around it. i said it would be a mossy forest bower and i was RIGHT.
that’s the point of having your own space. you can make it be YOURS. i’m a sleepy northern bear dad so i have dark green walls and autumn-sumac-red curtains and it’s perfect. you want to live surrounded by sugary cupcake colors because it makes you feel cheerful? do it! you want everything glittering with mirrors and gold leaf like a dragon’s hoard? do it! you want to go full goth and decorate with skulls and tarnished silver crosses? follow your spooky bliss! you want to cover your walls with hundreds of pictures of your dog? i believe in you!
it’s YOUR living space. nobody who doesn’t live there gets a say.
On some real shit, I do not fuck with people who ride those boat things at the carnival. People who get on those do not give a fuck about life, they don’t care about you, ya mama or your kids. They literally have nothing to lose. You don’t care about life so there’s no need for me to fight you because you’re not going to give a damn about my face.
THIS JOINT!!!!
BITCHHHHHHH. I got on this shit when I was 12. Wasn’t no bar, no protection, nothing in that shit. I didn’t realize until it was too late. You couldn’t pay me to ever get on this shit ever again in my life. We were in Landover, this shit almost smooth flipped my ass to Baltimore. No. Never again.
12? I got on this bitch when I was 21 and had my head in my ex’s shoulder the ENTIRE time. Screaming like a bih too. Nope. Never again. I was praying to the gravity gods the entire time.
?????? All it does is swing back and forth???? I don’t understand the concern??????
centrifugal force keeps you in your seat.
Centrifugal force isn’t keeping me from crying tho
If he’s a hopeless husband, she will always make him dinner and never suggest that he look after his own children. If he doesnt understand where the line is when it comes to harassing women, what’s friendly and what’s creepy, then she’ll give him the benefit of the doubt when he harasses or assaults. If he messes up simple tasks like washing his clothes and cleaning the house enough, she will take over out of exhaustion. If he states that he doesnt understand her feelings often enough, she’ll stop asking him to consider them.
Men play stupid because they’re lazy and entitled. They know they cant be blamed for their own supposed lack of understanding. Stop calling them clueless, helpless and stupid and start calling them manipulative.
Also the wives/gfs in this scenario have to find the magical right communication style. If she tells him to put the leftovers in an appropriately-sized Tupperware, she’s a nag or a control freak. If she asks him to clean up after dinner, then, oops, he just didn’t know. How could a grown adult know any better than to put two oz. of leftovers in a 2 quart container? Repeat for grown adults who didn’t know that laundry bleach isn’t laundry soap, that plants need an appropriate amount of water, etc. and the nagging-wife archetype starts to seem more like a reasonable-human one.
I’m infuriated by the learned helplessness of men in responsible careers, who apply reason and problem solving just fine outside the kitchen.
I’m a teacher. Today I was covering for a grade 9 science class. Decent kids, if a bit rowdy, and didn’t want to do their work. Wtv, it was textbook work. Not the point.
1 girl (reminder that these kids are, like, 14/15) was doodling bust portraits (head & shoulders) in an art book. I had a squiz and asked her if they were her characters. She said they were and excitedly told me she had so many characters for this one story of hers. I laughed about how I wished I could draw mine, and moved on.
Later in the class, I hear her enthusiastically telling her friend all about her main OC – a gay kitsune prince with a tragic past. It was so, pure, classic Deviant Art: my first OC. And you know what? I loved it. I was just sitting there half overhearing, smiling to myself and glad that her friend was engaging and interested in her story and characters.
This is a girl who will become a creator. She will draw and write and imagine, get better and better. She’ll probably move past this stage and start making more nuanced characters (she was already lamenting she didn’t have enough girl OCs). But this is where she started. This is where so many of us started. I had a tiger catgirl, goth witch/sorceress OC in high school. I found my original design for her recently. Look what I create now.
Let kids be kids. Let them explore and invent and go wild and be cliche and make overpowered OCs. Let them have their anthropomorphic animal OCs. Let them try everything before they settle into maturity.
Welcome to Chaos 