CONFIRMED
(Source: tastefullyoffensive)
The Slog
So I’m bitter about the Slog settlement because I’ve done so many Minute Men quests and I’ve never gotten the Slog. I did Arlen’s quests and I’ve never gotten the Slog. My map says there’s a freaking supply line set up to the Slog and yet I’m not allied to it as a settlement.
I have literally no other settlements to get except the Slog and for some reason I can’t.
I want the cute Ghoul settlement, dang it!
In Ascension canon, Cailan’s name basically means ‘Descendant of Calenhad’ in the old Alamarri tongue.
He got his name because his parents wanted to solidify, as firmly as possible, that he was, indeed Calenhad’s heir and the rightful future king of Ferelden.
In Ascension canon, Alistair’s name means ‘Defender of men’. But neither Fiona, or Duncan, who picked his name knew that.
He got his name because Fiona didn’t know any Fereldan names. She let Duncan, who was half-Fereldan name him. Duncan named him after a dog a neighbor had when he was a child.
naming a child after a dog is the most fereldan thing ive ever heard of
I couldn’t help but do a pulp noir tribute to Nick! Poor guy needs a hug tho ;w;
(Source: crystalvfae)
If Hogwarts is the finest, high class school for witches and wizards I’d love to see a spinoff movie of one of the more ghetto, inner-city magic schools.
Defense Against the Dark Arts is taken more seriously.
Hello, my name is Strong Female Character, and my secret power is reaffirming the heterosexuality of the disproportionately male cast.
Hello, my name is Slash Shippers, and my job is to dismiss female characters that might get in the way of my non-canon ship and then insist that what I’m doing is called activism.
vintage blog
Well then your right to freedom of speech ends with newspaper. Also, LGBT rights are suddenly not protected by the 14th Amendment, as when it was written, it was actually only about slavery and has no relevance outside of that today. Oh, and i guess anybody who isn’t male or female isn’t protected by the Constitution for their right to vote since those were the only two genders recognized when the 19th Amendment was passed. Since, ya know, we’re basing one fundamental right on when the Constitution was written, might as well base ALL fundamental rights based on when the Amendment was written.
(Source: whatareyoureallyafraidof)
Alright story time.
So I‘ve got a cold and I decided to walk my dog to get out, get some fresh air. We get back and my dog needs fresh water, I go to get his bowl but what is there beside it? One of those stinkbug bastards. I grab a glass, some paper, and scoop him up to take him outside. The nearest door is the one to my construction zone of a porch.
Here is my folly.
Our porch was old, rickety, so my dad has been working on it piece by piece when the weather and time permits. Currently the stairs are gone, they were torn down before Christmas. It hangs out over our walk-out basement, making it a little over a story high.
I go outside to the porch, release the bug then turn around to go back inside. The door has locked itself. It’s one of those demon locks to feels unlocked from the inside, but locks as soon as you step outside.
I’m locked outside on a porch with no stairs and no one is going to be home for at least five hours, maybe more, without my phone. I flip out. I look around for anyone around to wave down for help, I check the windows, I try to wrench open the locked door, my dog who knows how to open doors stares at me through the glass.
My first thought is to take the blankets from the porch and try to make a rope to climb down, but they don’t seem sturdy enough. Hanging over the ledge I think, let’s be smart about this. I’ve got one body and I’m home alone on a Monday when everyone around will be at work.
That’s when I realize there’s like a million cushions on our porch furniture. So I drop all of these cushions down into one big pile, stare over the edge and pray for 30 minutes. One side of the pile has the brick patio and my dad’s construction equipment, another has wood chips and a spiky bush, the other soft grass and safety.
I jumped, banged my ankle on the porch post on the way down, then rolled off the pile into the grass, shaken up but okay.
Look, I’m not an athletic person, I didn’t climb a lot of trees as a kid, so this was a big freakin deal to me.
But here’s the kicker:
I spent Leap Year…
Leaping from my damned porch.