#bright green rug

[hazelleewood]

Los Angeles Built-In Home Office Study room - mid-sized contemporary built-in desk carpeted study room idea with white walls

[mumintroll]

going to ask if i can repaint my room for my birthday lol im scareddd i think im going to get berated bc i got to choose what colour i wanted it painted when we moved here 2.5 years ago but ive hated it ever since i moved in ive regretted it from the very start... if i am going to be living in this room for the whole summer i at least want it to be a colour that doesnt depress me

[hyah-lian]

I am starting to make the biggest project I have ever done and it will be an eyesore

I am so excited

This is not loz/aus related but gdi I am.proud and excited so!

These are also only HALF the rounds I was supposed to do (I was supposed to use laceweight/crochet thread but I didn't want to lol) which is super fun bc that means it's gonna take half the time I thought it would

[breezypunk]

So I was just thinking about a ship I made so many years ago. This is no Cyberpunk stuff, this is now charting Halo territory.

I made an OC, who I named Samantha 114, close to John, also a spartan. Doesn't wear the armor like he does, in-fact she hardly wears armor at all, she's almost super human. She's known and feared by most of the covenant. She's smart and vigile, super fast, the other Spartans can hardly keep up with her. She takes no shit, and doesn't fear a damn thing.

She's also disgustingly in love with the Arbiter (Thel 'Vadam).

Human/Elite relationships were super frowned upon and just straight up absurd, but they managed and defied the odds. They were shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand in combat, and protected each other from ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.

[sol-flo]

now that the house is being painted and i have a better frame of reference i'm inclined to believe the previous colors were like scientifically determined to cause woe and despair

[whumpy-wyrms]

basement is flooding 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 :(((

[raye-sim]

interiors of Andreas’ townhome.

[thebrightgreen]

The difference between gnomes and other fairies is less to do with species and more to do with culture. To speak plainly: Gnomes would never do what these no-goodnik fairies have done.

Fuuuuck dude the faeries hollowed me out and are using me as a puppet to go buy cigarettes

[125storejuice]

.

[greatinterest]

Traditional Family Room Example of a large classic open concept medium tone wood floor and brown floor family room design with green walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and no tv

[arbullock]

Sun Room - Traditional Sunroom Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless dark wood floor and green floor sunroom remodel with a standard ceiling

[tvwade]

Enclosed - Living Room Example of a formal, enclosed, mid-sized farmhouse living room with blue walls, a brick fireplace, a standard fireplace, and no television.

[marys-ladies]

New York Eclectic Living Room Eclectic living room photo with green walls and a bar

[berenicelefebvre]

Kitchen Dining Dining Room Orlando Kitchen/dining room combo - large contemporary ceramic tile kitchen/dining room combo idea with white walls and no fireplace

[felassan]

June 27th Game Informer article on DA:TV's character creator - cliff notes:

CC is expansive, robust, rich; BioWare's best yet. At its heart is inclusivity

BioWare used it to create most of the NPCs in the game, main chars like companions aside

When browsing through the presets, the game allows for more detailed looks at each

Pronoun choice is separate to gender identity choice

Different body types available

Before exiting CC Rook can be viewed in 4 different lighting scenes at any time, "including The Veilguard's keynote purple hue, a bright and sunny tropical day, and a gothic night". The team worked hard to quash the issues caused by the green lighting in DA:I's CC

Head and body presets can be selected individually and customized

40 different complexions including smooth, rugged, youthful, freckled

Skin hues range from cool to neutral to warm

Undertones to these skin tones

Melanin slider

BioWare engaged consultation to represent people authentically

Vitiligo slider (intensity and amount adjustable)

Sliders for forehead, brow, cheeks, jaw, chin, larynx and scalp

Selectable undergarments, with nudity

The "Body Morpher" involves "select[ing] three presets for each corner of a triangle and then mov[ing] a cursor within it to morph your body or head into a mix of these presets"

Adjust height, shoulder width, chest size, glute and bulge size, hip width, how bloodshot your eyes are, how visible cataracts are, the sclera color, how crooked your nose is, how big its bridge is, the size of nostrils and the nose tip

Many sliders for things like mouth and ears

On ears: you can adjust asymmetry, depth, rotation, earlobe size

For ears you can have cauliflower ear

The makeup blends modern stylings with the fantasy of DA. It has more than 30 options including eyeliner intensity, color, glitter, eye shadow, lips, and blush

Tattoos are a thing. Add them to Rook's face, body, arms, legs. Their intensity is adjustable

Tattoos are customizable

Scar options

Paint options

"Tattoos, scars, and paint are very culturally relevant to some lineages, BioWare tells me, with unique tattoos for elves, for example"

Hair options: a ton. Hair can be non-traditional colors. Hair is gorgeous. Frostbite uses the Strand system to render "each style fully with physics"

Select qunari Rook's horn type and material - more than 40 options available

4 voices. English masculine, English feminine, American masculine, American feminine. Each has a pitch slider

Mirror of Transformation in The Lighthouse allows you to change Rook's physical appearance at any time after initial CC. Class, lineage and identity cannot be however (as mentioned previously)

[source]

[silcoitus]

He's My Man

Masterlist

AO3 link

Rating: Mature 

Tags: Silco x gn!reader, soft Silco, established relationship, angst, fluff, character study

Word count: 840

Beta Readers: none.

As Silco's partner, only you are privy to the vulnerability he hides from his empire. Dutifully, you stand at his side and lend him your strength.

A/N: Reposting so it's discoverable in the tags. This is based on the song "He's My Man" by luvcat, as requested by @h2pinky in this post! ! It's a beautiful song and I've swiftly become obsessed with it.

Only you can see his exhaustion.

In the quiet mornings when he returns home. When he sits at the table, dinner prepared for him, his shoulders slumped forward as his rigid posture gives way to every burden of the Undercity. Oh, how curved his spine becomes when no one—no one but you—is around. 

As Piltover awakens from its slumber to start a new day, faces warm in the bright sunshine, Silco retreats after a long night of work. Of toiling. Thanklessly. Day in and day out. In the home you’ve painstakingly built for him, he finds his refuge.

But he’s getting thinner.

This is not some work-induced starvation. Silco has had bouts of self-inflicted fasting, his mind feverish with the work left undone, too focused on his goals to listen to the hunger signals that cry out to him. And every time, you dutifully remind him—he cannot run an empire if he continues to ignore his body’s needs. 

So he’d eat again. 

And his weight would return. 

As you watch him eat the meal you’ve made for him, your own untouched, you see the bags under his eyes and the way the long scars on his face seem deeper, like the rivers that carved the plains of his face into valleys have doubled their efforts, raging and consuming.

This…

This is different.

Silco was clear when you joined his family; he lives on borrowed time. He should have died in that river. And if the toxins that run rampant in his veins weren’t enough, his line of work certainly has its share of occupational hazards.

Assassins.

Power-hungry Chem-barons.

And yet, those threats all seem so microscopic, so intangible, when the largest attacker Silco faces lies in his very cells, his very being. Everyday he fights an endless war. Against Piltover. Against his competition.

Against himself.

And while he gains ground in the battles of the Underground, he’s losing on his homefront. The enemy is laying claim to everything he has. It’s evident each morning when he retreats to the bedroom and disrobes to reveal new bruises that blossom along his skin, deep purples and maroons, sickly yellows and greens.

His arms. His legs. His back. Everywhere he carries the weight of his mission, death stakes a flag and claims it as its own.

It’s no wonder his attire covers him so completely, not out of some prestigious formality but out of careful necessity—the second he shows any weakness, his empire will crumble to the ground.

While it pains you to see his state, to see him sacrifice his body in the name of his Nation of Zaun, you cannot help but be thankful for the opportunity.

To love the man behind the ideal.

You savor these quiet moments, this invitation behind the curtain. Each show of vulnerability an expression of trust. Of utter faith that you will stand by him. 

You get to your feet, padding toward the gramophone in the sitting room. After carefully selecting a record, you place the needle gently into the indented line.

A little static, and then—

A melody. Soft and eerie. Haunting in its beauty. 

A bittersweet smile adorns your lips and you return to the kitchen to see ocean green and volcanic orange eyes looking at you behind a furrowed brow. 

His good eyebrow lifts in silent question. 

You answer with an offer of your hand.

Wordlessly, he sets his fork down and rises to his feet, pulling back his shoulders to tower over you. His hand in yours, he allows you to pull him toward the open space of the sitting room, footsteps light on the worn rug. You bring your free hand up to his shoulder and he follows your cue, placing his hand at your hip.

A gentle sway. Back and forth.

Unhurried.

Frozen in time.

At last, he speaks.

“What are you doing?”

You smile with your eyes up at him.

“Dancing.”

The scar on his upper lip quirks as he gives you one of his familiar smirks.

“I don’t have time for dancing.” His voice is somber, his head hung low. “I have so little of it as it is.”

You squeeze his hand.

“All the more reason to.” 

He clings to you at that, pulls you closer to him. The arm at your hip snakes around your back, pressing so your torsos are flush and his breath is in your hair.

Your eyes flutter closed and you let out a content hum, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

His hand leaves yours in favor of coming up to tangle in your hair. As you cling to each other, your bodies still swaying in time to the melody, you think of nothing else.

And when you feel his shuddering breath, a small broken sound escaping his scarred lips, you squeeze him a little tighter. The tears that fill the valleys of his face are a sight only for your eyes. Your hands alone can wipe away the flood.

He’s your man.

To hell and back.

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @sirenofzaun @blissfulip @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

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