#because if I have it my way I won't do anything. ever.

[alchemistc]

Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.

He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.

The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.

Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?

The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.

"How can I help?"

It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.

Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."

He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...

"Do you want me to go?"

Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.

His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"

It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.

"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"

"I want my sister back!"

Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -

"Why are you here?"

He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.

He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.

"I just... didn't want you to be alone."

Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"

Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."

"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."

Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.

"Please let me stay."

It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.

Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.

The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"I won't be able to let you go again."

He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.

Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.

A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -

He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.

But it's more than he had an hour ago.

"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.

[cube-cumb3r]

How did people answer the Dungeon Meshi question? (aka. how the Hell do you parse through free-form responses?!?)

(art by Ryokō Kui)

This first part is just going to be babble about google sheets and excel functions, feel free to skim or skip to the results.

Here's how the question was formulated: "Which Dungeon meshi character is objectively the best one If you are unfamiliar with dungeon meshi but still have an answer to this question, you can still answer (you don't need to know the character's name)."

As you can imagine, this made the responses exactly as creative as you'd expect. Which has made them both delightful to read through, but also painful to convert into usable data.

I started with making a list of the most frequently used words, excluding common ones. Here's an excerpt.

From this we already can see some hints as to the character most frequently mentioned, but if I were to make a chart of this it'd be a zillion categories, when ideally the responses obviously referring to the same character should be in one group, so we can truely see how many times a character was mentioned, no?

Although I could individually read every answer and categorize them manually I am NOT going to do that because, 1. it's tedious 2. I don't want to 3. I won't learn anything

If I ever work with a dataset of 1000 observations, doing it manually is absolutely not even feasible, therefore it's good to already know a better way to do it.

I was initially hoping to utilize xlookup, but I realized that xlookup doesn't actually do what I think it did. What I was HOPING it would do was to be able to identify keywords within longer answers, such as "cat girl" or "beardy dwarf" and then match them to some sort of index, where it'd be like Oh "cat girl"? That's obviously "Izutsumi". This is not how xlookup works. Xlookup cannot pick out a keyword from a longer response, it can only identify a partial phrase (example, if the full index phrase was "Delicious In Dungeon", a response saying "Delicious" will match, but a response saying "My favorite anime is Delicious in Dungeon", will not match, because xlookup cannot match a PERFECT MATCH from within a longer chunk of text.)

So instead I had to rely on my long-time good-time pal Regular Expression functions and combine them with xlookup. With my reliable sunday lover Regexextract I can Extract keywords out of answers in one step, and then in the next step match said keyword to my index.

INDEX:

^here is the index. Any non-blank response that doesn't match these gets counted as "Other". I tried to make the keywords as short as possible, that way they'd catch as many alternate spellings as possible without me having to write every variation out myself (LAZY!). For example, "bear" and "beard" don't need to be separate keywords (if they like in this index, correspond to the same character), as the keyword "bear" will match both the word Bear and Beard. Though, and as you will see later, making the keywords too short will result in false matches.

I made some Liberal Assumptions as to who a responder meant, such as in answers mentioning 'lesbians' or 'elf', which could in theory mean many characters. I went back and checked and adjusted the index to see that every answer got coded reasonably, but this has resulted in an index that is extremely adapted to this specific dataset, and it would not be as effective or reliable on a different dataset of Dungeon Meshi Answers.

Also, if a responder mentioned multiple characters, the first match is the one they got counted as. This could also be incorrect, depending on the answer.

RESULTS!!!

Here are the results! The title of the chart is wrong, I was obviously asking about the objectively best character, not "favorite"! Oh well. According to 24.4% responders, the objectively best character is Senshi, which is the correct answer (<- JOKE) (<- actually answered 'Marcille' himself)

You might notice quite a large "Other" category of 21.3% too, this is every response that was difficult to match to a specific Dungeon Meshi character, for a variety of reasons. Check out this hideous pie chart.

I don't know who "the one with teacher vibes" or "the one who is secretly a neutron star" is. Sorgy. Some of these were also referring to characters from other media, which is allowed and I respect it, but none of them recurring sadly. Wouldn't it be crazy if like 4 entirely separate people independently answered Sans. What Would It Mean?

Full responses:

With every "identifiable" response just being coded into a category, you don't actually get to see the beautiful ways in which THOSE people responded this question. So, here they are, in ascending order.

Izutsumi (7.5% of responses)

I was expecting more alternate spellings on this one, I personally think her name is tricky to spell, but that didn't seem to be the case. Also, seems that many people who think she's objectively the best one also don't actually know her name.

Falin (9.4% of responses)

Two of the responses here contains the two keywords, "chicken"/"bird" (which would categorize it as "Falin") and "lesb" (Which would actually categorize it as "Marcille"). Luckily, chicken and bird happened to be written first, so those responses got correctly coded as Falin.

Chilchuck (10.0% of responses)

Nearly everyone who think Chilchuck is the best one also seem to know his name. Maybe you need to be familiar with the show to truely appreciate the Chilchuck?

Laios (12.5% of responses)

Here, due to my laziness of not wanting to account for every possible spelling of Laios, "Ludmila" gets miscategorized as Laios because it contains the keyword "la". However, "The paladin" (which I do think actually is referring to Laios) gets accidentally categorized as Laios for the same reason, correctly.

Marcille (12.5% of responses)

The reason I made the controversial judgement call that responses containing the word lesbian would be coded as Marcille, is because I made the very liberal assumption that anyone responding with just "The lesbian" probably did mean Marcille, anyone familiar enough with Dungeon Meshi to mean Otta is probably be familiar enough to know her name. There is one response here saying "Lesbians", and they probably meant both Marcille and Falin but responders only get one character, so it got counted as Marcille.

Senshi (24.4%)

(You might notice as I just did that a response clearly meaning Chilchuck got coded as Senshi because they happened to mention Senshi first. That's my mistake for not making "halfling" it's own keyword. Sorry!)

Similarly to Izutsumi and Falin, Senshi seems to be a character many responders don't know the name of, in fact it looks like he most out of any character had the most responses mention him without knowing his name. Given that, I would make the assumption that most people who are only vaguely familiar with Dungeon Meshi, and perhaps don't even watch the show, overwhelmingly think Senshi is the Best Guy. Does that make it more of a correct answer, or less?

Anyway,

That's that for Dungeon Meshi. Happy Meshing everybody

[LINK TO MASTERPOST]

Does anyone want to do my new google form

[ceilidho]

Me: I don't like fauxcest so I'll avoid the tag/ block any accounts.

Also me: I want a daddy Dom who's really big on being a prodiver, probably got daddy issues himself, is an older man and financially secure. Makes sure I'm fed, well dressed and happy. Maybe even makes me live with him so he can just freeuse me and have something to look after because he just really wants to-

Like. I know it ain't the same but everyday it feels like it's borderline treading into that territory and idk if I can face myself or have the strength to accept that about myself. Like I use to be a puritan prude in my youth so the fact I ended up with a daddy kink would make my teen self disgusted. But ya know, shit happens.

I probably won't ever pass over that territory as I do get icked out by the idea of referring to a sexual partner as 'dad' or anything like that. So it's clearly not for me but I need some people to look at themselves TRUELY look at the stuff they're into or want in a partner coz probably like me, they are one kink/good fic/wild fantasy away from the "gross icky kinks!!" They wanna ban so much

Ever since I became an adult and started exploring what I like, letting myself read fics I was like "I'm not gonna like this but I'm desperate for content" and then come out of a changed person - I do start caring less. Do I still have my own opinions and icks and such? Yeah but like, the best thing about the Internet is that you can just block tags, block people or images that don't agree with you. Keep to your bubble of people who agree with you and such, but like, if you're not atleast aware or open to the fact your views may be hypercritical or even abit weird or taboo yourself - that's just destined to fail.

I think a lot of people can't separate identity from interests either, or they feel incredibly locked in with their identity.

like, you're allowed to find things gross, block them, or enjoy reading certain topics but only to an extent (like you won't allow yourself to enjoy anything beyond your limit because you're scared about what you'll uncover about yourself). it's also fine to one day come back to those same things and reevaluate your original opinion.

I'm not sure how to describe this but I feel like a lot of people have this tendency to equate any Thing they enjoy with subsuming that thing into their personality/identity, and if you think that way, then obviously any potential interest seems like a Threat to the persona/identity you've been meticulously building your entire life. which is terrifying! i do understand that there's a large group of people that probably equate reading/enjoying any content that's remotely dark to a real life want.

I personally think the most generous thing you can do for yourself is say "okay, I enjoyed that. it doesn't have to mean anything." you can read the kinkiest erotica ever and then go on to enjoy a vanilla sex life (or no sex life! tons of asexual people enjoy erotica). it simply doesn't have to be a big deal.

and this is also not saying you have to enjoy or force yourself to enjoy content that disgusts you. the brain is just complex. if you're living life in a way that is compassionate and avoids causing harm to other people, but some of your interests/kinks tend to veer towards the dark/taboo, just give yourself the grace to realize that an interest is not this Big, Horrible thing that'll destroy you and turn you into something monstrous.

[pretentiousbrownie]

Art by @red-wood-raven

Art by @jadequarze

Art by jinxpawz

A lovingly curated collection of my OC power couple, Alto and Katherine: Bonded by the weight of shared responsibility, a common cause, and a fiercely protective instinct, the two are driven by a self-sacrificing love and the unyielding desire to fight for everything they believe in, to give their loved ones the happiness and safety they themselves so desperately sought.

This unlikely werewolf and angel pairing is one that represents two extremely distinct aspects of myself. Embodying strength, perseverance, and a quiet determination to persist, Alto is the protector of my true self - the savior of my younger self, and the guiding light towards the realization and acceptance of who I was then and who I am today. Characterizing grit, resolve, and a fighting spirit that is so unabashedly true to them, Katherine is the determination to not only exist and persist, but thrive, in all senses of the word. Together, they are the forces that helped me become the person I am today; they are the personified aspects of my past, present, and future selves, and all struggles they’ve dealt with in order to reach this point right now.

They are the story of how I came to be, how I came to understand and accept myself, and how I persevered - against all the odds - in realizing that self, and that is why each piece is so much more than the sum of their many stunning colors, rich depths, and powerful expressions.

To the artists and friends that have continued to work with me in creating these pieces and more, you have my eternal gratitude and love for giving these characters shape and form and color and life. They are everything to me, and more. Thank you all so very much!

As one final aside, I wanted to leave each of you with this as well; these pieces (and the other commissions I have done over the past few years), have also been a way of recapturing what was taken from me so long ago; I'm not sure you could quite call it a dream, or even a goal, but I was an artist. From young, I always carried a sketch book or drawing pad with me. Armed with pencil in hand and the spark of creativity, I used to lose myself for hours, completely tuned out of the world, engrossed in each and every line and detail I so painstakingly drew.

I did it for myself, but I also did it to explore more than what I was. It started with architecture, design, decor, and abstracts, before delving into people and creatures and animals. I won't ever claim to be "good" - I was a kid without any formal training and only the world around me as my inspiration, but I always hated qualifying terms like "good" and "bad" with art. I just created art, and I did so because I enjoyed it and it was comforting.

Throughout grades school, the relative value of my art had been recognized by the teachers and peers who shared in those same interests and goals as myself, and I was welcomed into so many spaces that encouraged and helped develop those skills further. For the longest time, I was so incredibly happy to be doing what I loved more than (almost) anything.

And then came high school.

I won't lie, I had a wonderful time in high school. Yes, even contending with difficult situations, certain traumas, a great deal of depression, and the loss of multiple people very close to me, but one thing beyond all of that did change in an irrecoverable way; art.

Coming out of middle school, I was recommended for studio art and the honors art track that could further hone and nurture those skills/passions I shared. In my final year of middle school, I had the immense good fortune of having an arts teacher that actively encouraged her students to explore art in whatever forms it took, and was set aside from the typical art class to develop my own portfolio throughout the school year. I was set to work on several smaller pieces and one large piece for an exhibition in a local arts competition.

I was given free reign and ended up with several pieces featured on display at local events and at the statewide exhibition. I was thrilled beyond all belief that I was experiencing art in its freest forms and being actively encouraged to pursue it.

But as luck (or rather misfortune, or I suppose more misunderstanding than misfortune) would have it, that same recognition and appreciation for art did not resonate with my parents as well.

They were supportive, to many degrees - they certainly loved the skills and talents I'd worked so hard to develop and commit myself to, but they weren't convinced there was any real purpose to my arts beyond the hobbies they saw. So, when the time came to make a decision towards my educational track in high school, they pushed me away from art and "encouraged" me to think more about practical things.

I was denied the arts track as I was pushed towards a long-term language goal (four years of foreign languages), I was placed in the music program (which, in fairness, represented some of the very best times I had in high school), and was then set up for an intensive program in double maths and sciences for the next several years (in addition to sports, other AP/honors classes, and part-time work).

The workload was grueling and positively miserable.

In the end, art had to take a backseat otherwise I'd lose myself and my time towards the things that supposedly mattered more. By my sophomore year of high school, I'd all but given up on art, and pushed out maybe a few last pieces before never returning to the supply store to buy more materials.

Fast forward almost a decade, and here we are.

I am an adult, living (mostly) my own life, and rediscovering the things that have made me, well, me.

The irony is that my job is art, in some loose sense of the word.

I operate a photography studio and shoot commercial photography for automotive clients. I work with a local dealership and one of the foremost importers of enthusiast vehicles in my region. I have deep connections to other prominent names in industry, including motorsports and NASCAR, and engineering and design. I shoot for all of them, they value my inputs, and many of my long-term goals are aimed at improving automotive design and ergonomics in design for more human-centric interaction in an increasingly disconnected driving world.

Between the work I have done, the goals that I've encountered, and the people I've surrounded myself with in my personal and professional lives, it's given me the time and the space to focus on the things that matter to me.

Art has been a way of recapturing the love my younger self shared for creativity and free will/expression. After coming out years ago, it's also been a way to engage in the spaces and ideas that have long faced me without answer. Art has allowed me to be truer to who I am, who I was, and who I'd ultimately like to be. These commissions are a partial reflection of all of that, and everything it's taken to achieve that, and they're also the goals I've set as I rediscover my love for arts with the newfound freedoms to explore it.

So, it way too many words, these pieces are everything to me. I don't quite know how else to put this other than thank you. Thank you to everyone that shares a common appreciation for art, that has enjoyed seeing these pieces as much as I have, and that feels in some way (no matter how large or small) a connection or relation to the words I've said here.

And to the artists that have made these pieces and others for me; you may never quite know what they mean to me. These are all the ideas I could fit on a page while working, so I am a bit pressed for time, but your time and your creativity and your energy spent realizing what I could not - that means so much to me. It means more than I could every reasonably tell you or pay you or otherwise verbalize in some actionable way. So, seriously, thank you all so very much. From the bottom of my heart, I love and appreciate all you each done for me.

And I will leave it there for now. Thank you all for sticking around - I know this has been a very long read. I really do hope you love my OCs as much as I can. And hey, if you have a sec, if you've got a couple ideas, go make some OCs of your own. If it's within your realm of attainable, commish some of your favorite artists, or doodle out some of your doods - I promise it'll be some of the most fun you can have!

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Head canon that all the bats are actually pretty decent cooks but only under very specific circumstances.

Bruce: if Alfred is anywhere near, he'll burn water. He can however cook for 15+ people, if he tries for any less he ends up overusing salt/sugar/spices and the food ends up inedible. Whenever Alfred has the day off, he secretly cooks for his kids while pretending he's just reheating Alfred's dishes. Curiously, they all usually find excuses to show up at the manor when Alfred isn't there, even Jason.

Dick: will not cook for himself even if he has to eat raw pasta. However, if one of his siblings is coming over or they ask for a snack he can make mostly healthy food with the most random ingredients that no one else would have put together. It's usually pretty good.

Jason: can't cook with people in his kitchen. He needs space. The exception is Alfred. Tim has taken to hiding in random places in the kitchen to see how long he can stay without Jason kicking him out. His best spot is top of the fridge, almost beaten by the time he hid inside a floating cabinet and it ended up caving to his weight and dropping him on top of the sauce Jason was making (luckily not yet on the stove).

Tim: only cooks when the recipe has precise measurements of each ingredient (mg/ml instead of cups/tbsp). Proceeds to completely ignore his recipe and ends up with a completely different thing, usually opposite of what he was making, still tastes like he had used the recipe for the final thing.

Cass: cooks based on vibes only so most of the time she's the only one who can eat her concoction, mostly using ingredients that require her to dance and contort around the kitchen at the beat of whatever music she's listening to or just whatever. That being said, her food improves drastically if someone's in the kitchen with her, out of her way but watching, cause then she bases her measurements and ingredients in body language and her proportions end up being incredibly accurate.

Steph: can make anything that requires batter and make it be the best thing you've ever tasted. So waffles, crepes, pancakes, some cookies, cake, etc. Anything other than that will end up on fire. Funnily enough, she can also make incredible fillings that have an uncanny resemblance to some of her previous ashen attempts.

Duke: can cook in the dark without making a mess. He's also a pretty decent cook in general but he somehow leaves piles of dirty pans/dishes whenever he's seen cooking, no matter how simple his dish is.

Damian: can only cook with the recipe or someone (Dick specifically but sometimes Alfred) guiding him. His favorite food is the one traditional from the league, specifically the recipes Talia gave him when he went to Gotham. He wants them to be exactly as his mother intended so he won't deviate from the recipe in the slightest. It's special to him. Just as it's special to cook with Richard and getting to learn his favorite foods from before Bruce took him in. He might or might not either write the recipe after each time he cooks with Richard and ask clarifying questions like "what do you mean measure with your heart? How many tablespoons is that? No, I didn't see, you covered my eyes and told me to 'trust the process'"

Bonus: Alfred has the skill of spoiling the food of people he deeply dislikes while making the rest of it completely perfect for everyone else. Even if it's all cooking in the same pot. He's gotten so good at it he doesn't even do it consciously anymore and forgets he's doing it. It still gets the point across though. Interestingly enough, each of the bats partners have gotten shitty food from Alfred at least once (either shovel talk style or because they did something mean to their respective bat or wtv), they can't even say anything cause all the bats will just look at them like they're being crazy because Alfred could never while Alfred smirks at them from the opposite side of the room.

[runningracingdancingchasing]

It was difficult to gauge how long the walk back to the tower took. When she was there all day, she had the clock, and the angle of the sun, but walking through the dense forest made it difficult to see the moon, whose passage would have been giving her the markers.

But the good news was that she wasn't utterly exhausted by the time they got back, so they couldn't have been walked that long. Maybe a few hours. Oh, it really was difficult to say.

As they reached the tower's valley, Rapunzel looked up at the building. It looked so foreboding with the surrounding cliff's shadows cast over it. Rapunzel knew, now, that it wasn't just her home, it was also her prison. She looked at the back of Gothel's head as they walked in silence. She knew what she had to do, but she had to figure out the exact sequence of events, and time everything just right. Would she be able to get back to the kingdom in time? Oh, she hoped so. If Audwin was killed when she had the power to stop it...

"How are we supposed to get up?" Rapunzel wondered.

"The same way I got up when you were but a babe, when your hair was much to short to be let down to me." Gothel led her around the base of the tower to a gaping doorway with stone rubble all around it. "I returned early from my trip to get your shells when I caught wind that that horrible Owl Sorcerer might have gotten his claws on you, and aren't we fortunate? Now you won't have to unbrick the door for me."

Rapunzel stared. There was a door. All this time, there had been a door in the tower! The fury burned inside her, and for once she was glad that Gothel took little notice of her moods as she glared at the back of the woman's head while following her up the spiral staircase that took them both up to their living space. She could feel Pascal's claws digging into her shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but she was very aware of his barely-contained rage.

Once they were in their home, Rapunzel looked around at the old and familiar and felt... empty. All of her things were here, her art, her life, and she didn't want any of it. She wanted to get to Audwin, keep him from getting executed. She shivered softly.

"Now then," Gothel said perkily as she removed her cloak and hung it on the hook by the window. "Why don't you sing for Mummy, then I'll make your favorite dinner while you change out of that ridiculous dress. It is still your birthday, after all."

Something inside Rapunzel snapped.

"No," she said, as she gazed, unmoving, at the painting she'd done of herself watching the lanterns from a distance. The last painting she'd made here, and there wasn't an inch of space to paint anything else. Her life here was over. This gallery was closed. The lanterns had been her dream, but she had a new dream to chase, now. And a new family. Her real family.

Gothel scoffed. "Again with the mumbling! When will you learn to speak up?"

Rapunzel turned, her green eyes cold. "I said no," she answered clearly. "No, I won't sing for you. No, I won't change out of this beautiful gown Audwin made for me. No, you won't make my favorite dinner because it's my birthday. No, I won't stay. No, I won't do this anymore, No!"

As she'd spoken, standing tall and glaring, Gothel had stared, her own grey eyes wide with shock.

"Audwin was right!" Rapunzel went on, advancing on the woman who called herself her mother. "I am the Lost Princess. You're just the witch who kidnapped me to use my hair! All the things you'd warned me about and shielded me from... you are all those things! You're selfish and greedy and a liar and a kidnapper! You are the cruel world I need protecting from. I see you with open eyes, and I won't let you use my hair ever again!"

With that she turned to head up to her room and pack her things. She still had time, and she never intended to return. There were things she wanted to bring with her, and she had time before dawn.

"Wait!" Gothel called after her and strode forward. "Where will you go? He won't be there. He is to be executed! You might as well stay with me where you'll be safe!"

"I am the Lost Princess," Rapunzel replied, and passed through the curtain that secluded her room. "I'll live at the palace." Still, Gothel's words struck a nerve, she needed to get to Audwin as soon as possible!

She put her guitar on her bed, and her little doll she'd hand-sewn as a child. She didn't need clothes or books or paints -- the king and queen would provide, she was sure. Still, she threw open her wardrobe and looked at her knitting basket. Were there any projects she wanted to finish?

Suddenly, there was a sharp tug on her hair, and she yelped and stumbled back.

"You're not going anywhere," Gothel sneered, and wrapped the hair around her hand for a better grip. Pascal squeaked in alarm, then ran along the length of Rapunzel's hair to attack Gothel with tiny claws and toothless bites. With a snarl, she flung her hand to the side, sending Pascal flinging against the mirror in Rapunzel's room.

For her part, Rapunzel grabbed her hair with both hands and pulled, determined to get herself free from Gothel. Her heart pounded as her bare feet skidded on the tile floor. Now that the secret was out and she had no intent to stay, Gothel was dropping the facade of sweet, loving mother.

"No!" she gasped as she pulled. "I won't stay with you! Let me go!"

"Never!" Gothel hissed. "You are mine! My flower! My life! I won't let you leave!"

Her flower. Her life. Her hair! Scrambling back, Rapunzel spotted her sewing scissors in her wardrobe and lunged for them.

"No!" Gothel shrieked as iron whipped around.

Rapunzel took a deep breath and sheared her hair off just behind the nape of her neck. It was an unsettling feeling, cutting her hair. It had always been forbidden, and yet Rapunzel had always wondered what it would feel like. It was as if she could feel each and every strand breaking under the blades, and time seemed to slow as, all at once, the golden tone of her hair turned brown, like the opposite of when she healed. It made her feel sick to see. Her hair was everything, the only thing she'd been worth! But it had also been her tether here, the chain of her servitude.

The old woman let out a wordless shriek, desperately gathering the rapidly browning hair into her arms. And then, whatever youth she had began to drain away, just like the magic did. Gothel staggered out of Rapunzel's room with her armloads of hair, and Rapunzel followed in alarm, just as the old woman stumbled down the stairs.

With a gasp, she hurried after her, but by the time she reached what should have been a body, it was nothing more than a pile of hair and clothes and dust. Gothel was gone. Staring in horror, Rapunzel backed away, then sobbed. This wasn't what she had wanted!

And yet, she had no time to mourn. Suddenly a harsh caw caught her attention, and she spotted Audwin's crow flying in her window. With a gasp, she held out her hand for it to perch on.

"How's Audwin?" she asked.

The crow cawed at her, and she nodded. "I'll just be a moment."

She hurried back up to her room to check on Pascal, who was dazed, but unhurt, then grabbed the few things on the bed. There was no time for anything else.

The crow had followed her, and led the way back down the stairs now with raucous cawing. "A horse?" she confirmed, and looked at Pascal, who shrugged at her. She ran to the window and spotted a white horse waiting at the base of the tower, peering up expectantly.

With a nod of determination, she headed back for the stairs she'd taken up only minutes before.

With an aching groad, Audwin opened his eyes. His head was pounding, and he hissed in pain as he rolled onto his back and onto the bump on the back of his skull. Or he would have hissed if there wasn't a gag tied around his mouth. He sat up with a start, attempting to reach up and snatched the binding away but his hands were tied behind his back. As he looked around and found himself in a dark, stone room with only a door of bars as the means to get out, and he felt the pain in his shoulder, it came back to him. He'd been arrested.

That wasn't all. As he twisted his wrists, he found that his skin was exposed to the ropes. They'd taken his gloves. The guards were probably worried he had things hidden up his sleeves. Typical. And his cape as well? Splendid. He pushed his back into the wall to force himself up off the ground and onto his feet. His bare feet met cold stone.

Great... they'd also taken his boots. What in blazes did they think he was going to hide in those?

He stumbled closer to the bars, and fell against the wall near them to listen to some guards down the hall. They were speaking to someone, a superior of some kind. His shadow was tall and regal looking figure. The king by the sounds of it.

"We're taking every precaution, your majesty" a rugged voice said. It sounded like the captain audwin had faced earlier. "He isn't going to slip through our fingers again."

"Have the others found anything? Is there any evidence at all of what happened to my daughter?"

"It's not much, but one of our men just returned with this."

Audwin scooted closer to the bars and leaned over so he could see what the captain had. It was Rapunzel's lilac dress. Those bastards were snooping around in his tower! ... Why? Where was Rapunzel? She didn't make it to her parents? ... No. No, no, no, no. If she hadn't made it to the castle that meant ... oh, gods. That damned harpy!

The wizard slammed himself into the bars to get their attention, trying to shout through his gag. The two men down the hall jumped and turned to look at him. The captain scoffed.

"Look who's finally awake," he chided, marching over. The king waited a beat before hesitantly following, "Comfy? We couldn't have you casting any spells and getting away again."

"You stupid bastards!" Audwin wanted to shout, but it came out as garbled nothing. "Let me out of here! I have to find her!"

"Careful, Owl Sorcerer," the captain warned, drawing his sword and placing the tip right between Audwin's eyes, "You're already lucky to still be in a cell. Don't make me execute you early... After what you did to the princess, maybe I should."

What he did with the-... Audwin looked between the men, obviously confused, but neither of them seemed to care. He looked at the king, who looked a combination of furious and mournful.

"Easy, captain," the king gently said, putting a hand on the man's armored shoulder. "We don't kill prisoners in their cells. No matter how vile their crimes. We wait until dawn as planned."

As the sword lowered slightly in the man's distraction, Audwin used the sharp tip to move the gag away from his mouth.

"You're both fools!" He snapped, "Your princess is doomed if I stay here. She'll be stuck in her tower, and none of us will ever see her again."

"Silence! Don't try to manipulate us, Audwin," the king barked, "My soldiers have searched your tower, and my daughter was nowhere to be found. That ploy won't work on us. My daughter is gone... because of you. Guards! Restrain him again!"

"Not MY tower, you lumbering oaf!" Audwin lunged forward as a less important guard came and opened his cell. He was caught easily and forced back in, but the king still flinched, "Get off of me! You have no idea what you're doing!"

Audwin was forced to the ground on his injured shoulder to make him stop resisting as they put the gag back on him.

"We are executing an evil sorcerer for his constant assault on our kingdom as well as the kidnapping and murder of the princess."

Audwin froze, and his eyes blew wide as the king spoke. His breath caught in his chest as his heart began to race. There was no mistaking those words for jest. They thought he killed the princess. They were going to execute him. That's what they were waiting until dawn for.

The guards left Audwin lying on the floor of his cell but his eyes never left the king's. Audwin would never beg for his life. Most days he didn't care whether he lived or died... There was a flash of fear, not for himself but for Rapunzel that crossed his eyes as he laid there. However it was quickly covered with a seething rage that lit up his magenta eyes an ominous red. The king's Stern expression faltered only slightly before he turned and hastily walked away.

That old moron. He was condemning his own daughter by refusing to listen.

But it was too late for Audwin to do anything about it. He could only lay there and stare out the pitiful barred window as he waited for the dawn. At least he had been given one good day in his life before it ended...

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes

Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:

Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:

"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."

If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.

So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:

"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."

I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.

"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"

Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.

"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."

This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.

"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."

I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.

"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."

I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.

"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."

One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.

That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.

[blueberri-blu]

Beyond the Binary ⊹ฺ๑

You come out as Non-Binary [Rise]Donnie & Leo

[rise]donnie x gn!reader (they/them)

[rise]Leo x gn!reader (they/them)

Raph & Mikey (wip)

Leo

He.. is a little confused

Doesn't entirely know what it means, but when you explain it he just implodes

"wait wait... So... Youre not a boy""no""and youre not a girl?""no"

"So you're like... Your own deal?"

"I guess so, yeah"

"well... Of Course you are! There is only the best for moi! You are my cool, sexy, mysterious s/o!"

He thinks rightfully so that being non binary is just 10x better than being a boy or a girl

"So many opportunities!!"

Believes that you should be worshipped, he already did, but now it's to make you feel validated and seen because "only a true Deity would be as unique as you"

He will challenge anyone who doesn't use your pronouns even after telling them

"Well, THEY are the absolute best thing ever, and YOU could never ever compare in any way!"

On days you feel like you're unsure or maybe even think you're faking it, Leos there to hype you up!

"well, I mean, if you think about it, being a boy/girl is.. really boring" "what?" "Well, Yea, I mean, they have like, set societal norms they wanna fit into and well... You don't want to! That's really cool and rebellious, plus, you have a mysterious aura around you! Making you almost just as good as moi!"

"In a world of Boys and Girls, you are a Star!"

He might not get it at first, but he works to understand you, and just absolutely adores you!

⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑⊹ฺ๑

Donnie

Donnie definitely knows what it is, probably feels a little similar, but decided not to put a label on it

"Hmm well, I do suppose it's to be expected, you have almost never seemed as optimistic with your old pronouns"

He seems to make the pronoun adjustment immediately, not struggling at all

He holds this expectation to his brothers as well, so if any of them accidentally slip up, he will give them "death glare" while killing them with his eyes

He is very supportive of you in little ways

If you're out for everyone, anything he makes for you will have a small, subtle nb flag on it

If youre ever feeling down about your identity, Donnie will either send SHELLDON with some of your comfort items or

If you're really really feeling bad, he will allow you to get physical comfort if that's what you want

If not, although he isn't good with words, he will try his best

He just wants you to feel better as soon as possible

Donnie believes that being non binary has absolutely no affect on your personality, nor you as a person

So he won't outright compliment you on being non binary

But instead will compliment you on things you've expressed insecurities about before

"Hm that shirt doesn't exude male or female qualities, every dumb dumb will be unsure of your gender all day"

In the end, Donnie doesn't care how you identify, all he cares about is that you love and understand him, and he will do the same to you <3

This is a little short, but I'm thinking of doing some one shots with a nonbinary reader! I hope y'all enjoyed this! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

[quadrantadvisor]

I'm taking adderall for the first time in two years and my brain is freaking out but in a different way from before so.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[cloudwhisper23]

Grian knew he'd have to let go eventually.

He always did, after all. Years were not enough time with the people he cared about, and the only place he could hope to see Mumbo protected from the passage of time, Hermitcraft, had proved unworthy.

It wasn't the server that made them immortal, but they just were, on their own.

Except for Mumbo.

Grian wasn't aware at first, when he stayed after season 6 of Hermitcraft. His secret was one he guarded closely, after all.

But Mumbo said something about them being some of the only mortals on the server, musing about how everyone else stayed the same over the years, and Grian's existence fell apart.

He didn't need to keep his immortality a secret from Mumbo. He shouldn't have.

Grian hoped after Mumbo stole a bit of his soul that it would tide him over, keep him by Grian's side for his whole life.

Just like Mumbo promised him.

But it hadn't. The waffle faded, and grey streaks appeared in Mumbo's hair, and Grian found himself looking for alone time a lot more lately.

He yanked at the feathers in his hair, wishing that he could just... let go of the immortality.

They wouldn't let him, he knew.

It's a blessing and a burden, they'd warned. You will have these powers forever.

Grian sighed, closing his eyes to peer at what everyone else was doing. Mumbo was building. That was new, but Grian loved watching him build like this. He had to watch this way, as Mumbo got self-conscious when he was watching normally.

Then Mumbo's foot slipped.

Grian's eyes flew open as he gasped, wings fanning out as he launched himself into the air, flying as fast as he possibly could.

"Mumbo! Are you alright?"

"You saw that, did you?" Mumbo laughed sheepishly. "Just lost my footing, that's all. Perfectly fine."

"Is it?" Grian pressed.

Mumbo's mustache twitched. "You've been a severe worrywart lately, Grian. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine." Grian's feathers twitched. "But you lost your balance."

"When do I ever keep my balance?" Mumbo shook his head. "Relax, mate. It's not because I'm growing old or anything. You're just upset because your grey hairs haven't started growing out yet. But they will."

No, they won't.

Grumbo story idea, Mumbo and Grian meet when Mumbo is about 25, and the two of them fall in love. The issue is, though, that Mumbo is a regular human who will age and eventually die. Whilst Grian is immortal, and there's nothing he can do about the fact that Mumbo will eventually die.

Just having some thoughts about the entire Mumbo ageing on Hermitcraft and dying before Grian in the life series.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[astralhope]

Rank 55: Yuma Jets!!

[ironmlady]

Hey so no hate to the op and I know it's meant in jest and is also a slightly older post, but as someone who went from art school to a trade school I want to say something:

This thought process is wrong. It is so so so wrong.

I've been in welding school for about a year, and ironically for this post, I am weak as shit. One day I hope to get my act together and become the buff butch I've always dreamed of but right now, I need help with some of the machines because they're that heavy - and that's okay! Because people don't mind helping. I also have pretty bad hand-eye coordination, focus, etc. All things that have to do with welding. But I'm still doing it.

The reason you might feel this is way is because you can't fathom doing it with your current knowledge of the trade, AND/OR you have had difficult experiences in the past learning new thing. Both of these things apply to me. But don't let it stop you. Please.

I used to think art was the only thing I was good at, but if you ever think a trade might be for you - just do it! That's what classes, apprenticeships etc. are for. I won't pretend it's easy for me, I still deal with the same self-doubt in the post, and it's certainly not easy, but trades can in fact be learned! Any skill can! I know it because i'm doing it! And you don't have to be "good" at anything in particular to start.

Ok thabkx bye

Ok thanks rant over

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

it's not sinking in that today might be the last day in my house and town for many months to come

[didnt-hear-idsb-live-again]

.

[slavicafire]

alright I wanted to get a lot of hours in to make sure I have an opinion that's not just my initial dislike.

main conclusion: this is a YA game. whether that's a blessing or a crime is up to you.

good things, spoiler free:

it's a casual game so it's very easy to start playing whenever, stop, then return to the game. the difficulty settings let you customize and make it even more casual, and the story will be served to you in neat easily digestible bits that do not necessitate you know anything about the franchise to enjoy it. it's fun.

the combat is really fun, smooth, and offers a lot of possibilities of matching and mixing, even if at the end of the day a lot of the skills are basically the same thing, just recoloured. it's very satisfying to play around with, and you can refund skill points at any point and try something entirely different. killing bosses feels nice.

there's plenty of voice acting that's very well done and expressive

the level design is very intuitive while still making exploration interesting and actually fun, and the decision not to make it open world was GOLDEN!

the puzzles, while somewhat rudimentary, are really fun to get into and feel satisfying to solve. you won't spend too long solving them and you will not become frustrated unnecessarily. where previous da games would be a really annoying game of connections, veilguard is a nice wordle session where you already got one or two letters settled.

the level art is beautiful and makes you want to actually look around and take the sights in. lighting design is awesome, bloom notwithstanding.

there are a lot of codex entries that are interesting to a long-time fan of the franchise, and actually satisfy some of the hunger for lore and good writing

there are multiple characters, both companion and side ones, that are interesting and have a lot of potential.

the narrative exposition of your rook's background is nicely woven in, and offers a lot of replayability potential to explore different backgrounds.

the fact that you get to explore many iconic places from the franchise is nicely done, both in terms of game mechanics and the underlying narrative reason. it's fun to finally see more of them and learn more about them.

bad things - under a cut both due to some spoilers and simply due to negativity that's about to ensue:

this is a really casual game that's even more basic in matters of storytelling and relying on YA fantasy tropes than inquisition was. it is basically like playing a dreamworks animation in form of a game. the only important thing is the power of friendship.

none of the decisions matter in any significant way - they do affect the game but it's still all about being friends and brave, and not much more matters.

the stakes are THE BIGGEST EVER! that means they don't matter at all. very marvel style where they had no other ideas but to one up the previous games in a sort of playground level of increasing stakes. oh, you are the strongest? well I am the strongest to INFINITY! oh then I am actually infinity + 1!!!

the choices presented are offensively shallow and both the narrative and the characters suffer greatly because of that. it's much, much worse than inquisition was in that regard: gone are the times of difficult decisions, risk, or thinking about politics. the only important thing is the power of friendship.

the main argument regarding the bad, YA writing is that "rook has to be a good guy and be buddies with everyone to defeat the big bad guys!!!" and I really hate it. you cannot be a cunt, you cannot be mean, you cannot be aggressive, you cannot make any choices at all that would affect the story in a significant way. you can only be a bit sarcastic - and it's done in a much more millennial "merp merp, adulting is hard XD" way. much worse than purple hawke. even inquisition let you do interesting things in terms of morality, politics, other characters...

adding to the above, you are everyone's best friend and everyone loves you and trusts you implicitly. characters who are total strangers will after one mission chime in with their mushy awe and remind you, every step of the way, that you are the bestest and bravest and most specialest. feels undeserved and shallow, and again the game treats you like a child.

the dialogue in the main quests is very basic and aimed at the most casual player. it's all skippable at no risk. outside of cutscenes, using the characters, the game treats you like a child that needs to be reminded of how its most basic mechanics work all the time, dora the explorer style. uh oh, can you see that door? it looks like it's blocked! oh no! we have to find something to unlock it with! do you remember what we did earlier today? let's try it again! can you repeat after me?

only side quests offer anything interesting in terms of writing and dialogue - and even that is scarce.

the music is so uninteresting and generic it only brings to mind a bad marvel movie where you try to superficially introduce some pomp to an otherwise underwhelming stand-off. it's criminal, honestly, and has zero character. I got literally excited when I heard one of the NPCs in the market play a tune based on one of the inquisition tavern songs because that was the only memorable piece of music in hours.

the romance is very rudimentary and the lack of any jealousy mechanics feels very YA again. flirting is underwhelming and even though there are plenty of "personal" missions with your companions, the writing and pacing doesn't let you become too attached to them.

the RP part of RPG has to be mostly done in your head. the characters have a lot of potential and most of it is wasted. if you like a given character, just go find a fanfic about them - don't count on the game giving you that.

cameos from characters from previous games are so cheap and shallow. the inquisitor is straight up from a disney movie. morrigan is sweet and nice and likes you so much. dorian is forced into a cutscene randomly as a very cheap attempt to pull in fans of the franchise. isabela looks like a knock-off doll you can buy at the cheap market and is also, ya know, fucking white suddenly.

the qunari are shit, both aesthetically and narratively.

any social and political issues from the previous games are entirely gone, whether it's the matters of the qun, slavery, elves, chantry, or mages vs templars conflicts. none of it matters because the stakes are INFINITY + 1 !!!!!!1

please i am dying to hear your opinion on veilguard

oh I have plenty. let me finish tonight's session of playing and I will return to this to ramble very, very gladly