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@shaunthehistorian
Taking hiatus
My Shaun muse has decided to fly off because I ended up getting into dragon age Inquisition and gained an Iron Bull muse. I'm sorry. I'll return if shaun decides to show up, or maybe when I fianlly play rogue and unity. If you wanna follow my Bull blog you can find it here: www.the-iron-fucking-bull.tumblr.com Love you guys :3 if you wanna contact me, message me about skype and l'll hand you my contact.
((You guys may or may not have noticed that my activity has ever so slightly plummeted. I got Dragon age Inquisition and I can barely stop playing it. I'm so sorry
How well do you see color?
I’m cry I scored 60, I feel blind
so everyone is aware, a lower score on this means a better score.
I got a 30!!!!!!!! Yes!
*kisses sweetly and nuzzles*
"Darling!"
"How are you my dear?" Shaun asked, slipping beside her and holding her hand.
"I am well, though I am all the better for having you here." she said, and giggled, leaning her head to the historian’s shoulder, whirring gently in contentment. "How has your day been?"
"Riveting, work as usual. I’m glad to have finished the day." He brushed through her hair and stroked a thumb over her hand. "I’ve been talking to my bosses about something, by the way."
With a higher price tag, but oh so good
Oh thank you so much tumblr, for suggesting an AC Unity post to me that was an untagged spoiler. Thank you very fucking much.
Be a good friend. When your friend leaves an abusive relationship, delete/unfollow/unfriend their abuser. Don’t give them anymore activity. When they leave, leave with them. Be their support system. You cannot be neutral when someone was abused.
*kisses sweetly and nuzzles*
"Darling!"
"How are you my dear?" Shaun asked, slipping beside her and holding her hand.
If you were ever a girl that people whispered about and laughed at as you walked by…. That feeling never goes away. You’re suspicious of everyone around you having a good time, thinking it’s at your expense.
My parents live in this town and the city legally can’t tear the tree down to build or anything because the tree has its own legal rights and they can’t do anything about it.
how does. how does this happen. how DID this happen
I love this story because this guy in the early 1800’s had so many great childhood memories of this tree and wanted to make sure it was protected no matter what. So he deeded the ownership of the tree to itself and everyone just went with it.
Then in 1942 this intense windstorm came and knocked the tree over. And people were bummed. But someone had saved an acorn from the original tree, so they planted that and now Son of the Tree That Owns Itself is over 50 feet tall.
And since this new tree is technically the offspring of the original tree it’s considered to have legally inherited the plot of land it’s inhabiting.
Two generations of trees owning land is amazing and if you don’t think this is the coolest thing get right out of my face.
A tree has more land rights than the Native Americans.
How Southern.
(But really though this a pretty good story)
Heads Up
In case you were not already aware, I am not the one reblogging those 50 shades movie promo posts
Tumblr is doing it for me
I do not support that movie in any way, shape, or form.
Please do not unfollow me for that reason
what the SHIT tumblr?
If tumblr does this shit on my blog, please let me know so I can delete them. Leave it to 50 shades to use a marketing ploy that forces something you don’t want on you without your fucking consent.
"Kill me. Please, just kill me."
"I’m afraid I can’t do that Desmond." There were two Abstergo guards, one to hold Desmond and the other punching into his torso and every now and then, his face. They weren’t hard enough to break bones, but they were hard enough to bruise and all Shaun did was stand there and watch with a blank expression. At points it almost seemed like the corners of his mouth were flicking up, but it was hard to tell in the dark room.
Several hours later, a dark haired man wrapped in a scientist’s coat and adorning a stiff expression entered the room. His posture as stern as his face, he looked around before turning to Desmond. The nurse who spoke no English was behind him, almost like a mouse about to be trodden on.
"I take it you are enquiring about the previous nurse’s whereabouts? She is away on temporary leave, some family problems. I assure you, she is fine. Simply because she has spoken to you means nothing." He remarked. "Then again, a lot of people you have touched have become ruined."
Desmond tensed. He pushed himself up, lip curling over his teeth in a snare, eyes blazing, posture protective. There was no doubt that he knew what was happening. “You’re threatening me, aren’t you? Or her? And you’re definitely talking about Shaun. Where is he?”
The man gestured as if he had no idea what the other male was talking about.
"I’m afraid I have no idea, nor any clue as to what you’re insinuating. I’m merely projecting that your life choices have not been the best for those around you, to which I thought was actually quite obvious to you. I suppose not. Shame. I pinned you down as a smarter man, Mr Miles, then again you did get captured."
The nurse looked like she wanted to leave, instead she cast her eyes to the ground. "Now, as to the fate of circumstances, once you are healed we would like for you to participate in our experiment with a new type of Animus. Refusal is an option, but that would also result in us not needing you." The Scientist smiled coolly and with sharp confidence. Almost like the expression Vidic used to wear, only with a more creepy smile.
"Shaun, I... I need... I need to talk to you."
"Desmond?" The pauses in his speech were concerning and nowadays that was all it took to get Shaun’s full attention. "What’s wrong?"
The Brit was right beside him, watching his hands with the small blade in his hands. His own intrusive thoughts threw flash backs across his eyes, minor images of Lucy’s death. Two people he knew, trusted and cared about, tearing each other apart with one movement.
A few blinks and Shaun pushed the thoughts away, picking up an unused lime quarter to put between his teeth and bite down. The sour taste was sobering. There were better things to think about, and a more important task at present.
"Indeed. I’ve read the reviews. Bad Weather’s best Bartender. That’s got a great ring to it. What a normal life." Like himself, Desmond has had a taste of a relatively normal life. Having also had a normal life before the Assassin and Templar war abolished it, Shaun felt some kind of connection with Desmond in that sense. The same was true with Rebecca, although she didn’t like to talk about life before she was an Assassin. Only her technological interests.
"It was nice," he said with a soft smile. Beginning to pour the drinks, the shake in his hands became less and less as the moments passed and he talked about himself and his own life. "I had a shitty apartment I could barely afford, a cheap motorcycle because it was better than a car, and my food consisted of the dollar menus of fast food restaurants. But it was nice."
He watched the bubbles mostly settle, then took a spoon and started stirring each cup. “I miss it. But I wouldn’t be happy going back to the way it was. Sure this is even shittier here, losing my mind and spending hours in someone else’s body, but…” His lips tugged up again. “The company’s not so bad.”
"Sounds nice. Reminds me of my university days, only not New York." Shaun simply watched everything Desmond did. All the small movements blending into big ones, smoothing out as the shaking slowly faded away.
"What was it like, living in New York?" He knew what New York was like on it's own, but living there was something he had not experienced and most likely never would. Visiting a place and living in it were two completely different things. Especially when you are free to live it.
"Kill me. Please, just kill me."
"I’m afraid I can’t do that Desmond." There were two Abstergo guards, one to hold Desmond and the other punching into his torso and every now and then, his face. They weren’t hard enough to break bones, but they were hard enough to bruise and all Shaun did was stand there and watch with a blank expression. At points it almost seemed like the corners of his mouth were flicking up, but it was hard to tell in the dark room.
The nurse looked at him with a confused frown, straightening the sheets and checking his temperature. When every little thing was in order and Desmond still seemed unsatisfied, the nurse shrugged apologetically.
"Je suis désolé, je ne sais pas ce que vous dites (I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re saying)." She stood straight like an obedient school girl, hands brought to the front of her hips to clutch each other as she silently left the room.
He gave a long groan. Now how was he supposed to communicate? The only thing he could hope for was that the first nurse would come back on her own If not… Desmond didn’t even want to think about what might have happened to her. Or to him, once he was fully healed.
Several hours later, a dark haired man wrapped in a scientist's coat and adorning a stiff expression entered the room. His posture as stern as his face, he looked around before turning to Desmond. The nurse who spoke no English was behind him, almost like a mouse about to be trodden on.
"I take it you are enquiring about the previous nurse's whereabouts? She is away on temporary leave, some family problems. I assure you, she is fine. Simply because she has spoken to you means nothing." He remarked. "Then again, a lot of people you have touched have become ruined."
"Kill me. Please, just kill me."
"I’m afraid I can’t do that Desmond." There were two Abstergo guards, one to hold Desmond and the other punching into his torso and every now and then, his face. They weren’t hard enough to break bones, but they were hard enough to bruise and all Shaun did was stand there and watch with a blank expression. At points it almost seemed like the corners of his mouth were flicking up, but it was hard to tell in the dark room.
Days passed, where Desmond was left to rest and had the occasional visit from the kind nurse. The last couple of visits however, were not from the nurse he had been slightly familiar with. It was a silent one, blank and uncaring. She may as well have been a ghost to Desmond’s presence, only there to deliver food, medicine and change his bandages. There had been no more tapes since the first one.
Shaun on the other hand, had tried to escape once. It had failed quiet miserably. Now he was subjected to cold baths in the form of buckets of ice water thrown over him to prevent him from sleeping, and tied down to a bed frame in such a way that made his muscles constantly tired. Any strength he had would be sapped away within seconds of the cold water hitting him.
All that attempt at escape had earned him was less sleep and a broken wrist and nose. There was nothing he could do besides lay there and wonder why he was even there. Surely this was punishment enough? Having been used as a personal punch bag was one thing, subjected to near Chinese water torture was another. Did they want him tired? He couldn’t tell any more. Too tired to think.
Desmond was acutely aware of the lack of his regular nurse. It irritated him and alarmed him. Perhaps they had found out about what they had talked of and taken her away? It was a terrifying idea, and so as he began to feel better, he decided to push the nurse.
He sat up fully, waiting for the woman. When she came in, he fixed her with a harsh stare, gaze firm. “Where’s the other nurse?” he asked, voice hinting on danger.
The nurse looked at him with a confused frown, straightening the sheets and checking his temperature. When every little thing was in order and Desmond still seemed unsatisfied, the nurse shrugged apologetically.
"Je suis désolé, je ne sais pas ce que vous dites (I'm sorry, I don't know what you're saying)." She stood straight like an obedient school girl, hands brought to the front of her hips to clutch each other as she silently left the room.
Re: Binding on Airplanes
This post has been going around for the past few days telling people that it is unsafe to bind because you’re “going up in a pressurized metal tube” and don’t want to be putting extra compression on your ribcage. THIS IS NOT TRUE.
Airplane cabins are pressurized to imitate the air on the ground and alleviate stress on the body. This does not mean that they are putting excess pressure on your body, and this especially doesn’t mean that they would be forcing excess compression on your ribcage from a binder. As long as you’re binding properly in the first place (using an actual, safe binder, taking breaks, stretching regularly), a plane ride will not affect you anymore than an extended car or train ride will. It is perfectly safe to bind on airplanes. That said, take precautions as you would with any form of long travel: wear a looser binder, sit upright, stretch often, go to the bathroom to take it off in breaks and help yourself breathe easier. You will be fine. Just take care of yourself.
Please reblog!
just so yall know this is a trans friendly blog and if any of yall are transphobic you can unfollow me immediately and if you wanna come into my inbox with some bullshit I will rip you to shreds
