Maisie Williams at the National Television Awards in London (January 21, 2015)
Maisie Williams at the National Television Awards in London (January 21, 2015)
If you haven’t played DA2 or you haven’t played it in a while, you might be scratching your head at Varric’s tombstone in the Fade. “Becoming his parents”? Why would Varric be afraid of that? (I mean, besides the obvious fact that many children fear becoming their parents.)
turn on: troubled souls with messy hair and a passion for art
shouldercharge-deactivated20151:
I might have known some of them.
If my life had gone differently…
I might have been one of them.
I made a few illustrations about what it feels like to have social anxiety. I hope people that can relate are comforted to know other people have similar experiences.
See more illustrations of What the World Looks Like With Social Anxiety
The first one. So much. The others too. But my desk phone at work freaks me out like a fire alarm. A fire alarm is the end of the world.
IM CALLIN TEH FUCKIN POLICE
But that’s the thing, isn’t it?
She knew this would happen
She basically said Hawke needed to be the one to stay.
The option said the one left behind will ‘probably’ die.
Flemeth knows they’re there.
Did she save them? We know she was in the Fade physically at one point.
Did she show up, after we left, and save the one left behind?
I need to know
Bioware what are you dOING
Dalish Elf Skyhold Outfit (Female Only)A lore-friendly retexture of those infamous beige pajamas, based on in game assets. This outfit will show underneath certain armors (mostly light), and parts of the cloth will change to match crafted materials. To install: use DAI Mod Manager (latest version here). Instructions on the Nexus. (NOTE: since this was made with older mod tools, I will eventually replace this file to accommodate the forthcoming format.)
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. Pablo Neruda