as dungeon master i have put a 140 percent tariff on characters with a tortured past who watched their parents die when a certain monster raided their village and now theyre out for revenge
okay but if you ever see a male creative who had a string of great work and then everything else he did was dogshit, go to the “personal life” part of his wikipedia and look at his relationships. you’ll either find a major tragedy he didn’t recover from (completely understandable) or, more likely, there was a woman in his life doing uncredited shit editing his stuff or contributing generally and she’s not there anymore.
I told a friend about this phenomenon in literature and he called me weeks later like, I remembered what you said about women doing uncredited work when tim burton came up. he made a string of bangers then everything else just was nowhere near as good. the timeline matches perfectly to when he was with this german visual artist (lena gieseke). he’s done some good work in collaboration, but if things were dug into I suspect we would find she did a lot more than people realise.
so yeah whenever you look around like wow women didn’t work in history, or, women aren’t auteurs, or, there just aren’t as many great female writers - societal reasons for that aside, half the time they absolutely did.
The Dungeons & Dragons paladin is objectively the funniest class because at first glance it seems like an artefact of an earlier age of the fantasy genre for which contemporary inspirations are thin on the ground, but then you dig into its thematic core and realise there are contemporary popular media characters who almost perfectly fit the mould, but like 80% of them are deeply unwell teenage lesbians.
Like, oh, you’re running Oath of Devotion? So is this like an Adora Princessesofpower thing, or are you shooting more for Gideon Nav?
I…tried to make a meme and got carried away and made A Thing that is like partially unfinished because i spent like 3 hours on it and then got tired.
I think this is mostly scientifically accurate but truth be told, there seems to be relatively little research on succession in regards to lawns specifically (as opposed to like, pastures). I am not exaggerating how bad they are for biodiversity though—recent research has referred to them as “ecological deserts.”
for a long time i lived alone, but then i got a service dog. after a lot of training, the service dog came to live with me—except, the same day the trainers brought quincy, an orange tabby tomcat also showed up.
“you didn’t tell us you had a cat!” said the trainers, both very upset (because they hadn’t trained quincy to live with a cat).
“i don’t have a cat,” i said. “I don’t know who this is.”
the cat never went away. i named him poe dameron and he lived with me and quincy. they got along fine, in their own way.
we had our quiet adventures. poe was very cuddly but sometimes he just took off for a day or two. once he got into some paint.
after a while, i found out that poe dameron really lived across the alleyway, and belonged to my neighbor elizabeth’s teenaged son, and his real name was PUMPKIN. but poe apparently didn’t like the teenaged son (probably not least because he named him PUMPKIN), so he had come to live with us instead. elizabeth was fine with it.
the years went by and one day poe dameron crossed the rainbow bridge too soon. i took his ashes to elizabeth. we were very sad.
a few weeks later, she asked me to come over to see something.
it turned out that poe dameron had also lived with a THIRD lady, a few streets over. this lady, whom neither of us knew, was a painter, and she had made this painting of poe dameron. i don’t know what she called him, but she painted him like one of your french girls.
“i think you should have it,” elizabeth said, tactfully. “after all, he spent the most time with you.” i was quite sure she just didn’t want this hideous painting in her gabillion-dollar house, but i agreed.
the painting now hangs in the kitchen over my stove—not least because its brick-red frame matches my curtains. and because it delights me to see poe dameron every day, looking so fluffy and sultry, like an orientalist renaissance odalisque.
Everyone reblog consummate cabana boy moocher and orange cat extraordinaire Poe Dameron and his odalisque.
