Don't feel ashamed of doing "CHILDISH" things

•buy toys/dolls/crayons
•play with Legos
•play old videogames/dress up games
•weave friendship bracelets
•watch cartoons
•use stickers
•draw pics of your favorite characters

If it makes you feel nice, do it.
Don’t even worry about what other people think, because it doesn’t matter–if it brings you happiness, it’s not “ridiculous”, or “immature”.

You deserve to enjoy yourself.

My favorite thing about dishonored is that NONE of the big bad guys are titans or huge monsters or anything like that. They’re ALL human. None have a lifebar or a different form that happens when you do so much damage. You can kill each and everyone one with a single good hit. Even Delilah, or Daud. Everyone is just HUMAN. And they take that and weave the game to make it fights really good. Like with delilah, you fight a lot of her, but they’re all the same, just normal people with swords (and magic) and when that ends you fight the real delilah and, if you avoid her attacks, you can kill her with one hit. She’s powerful but will die just like everyone else. She has the same amount of health as the guards do. and will fall just like the rest of the NPCs in the game.

Hi Everyone, ⠀

I’m so happy to be able to bring you more creature art today. I’ve partnered with Metal Weave Games – creators of the Baby Bestiary – to help create “Atlas Animalia” coming to Kickstarter soon!⠀

Here is a gallery of the owlbear images which will be split up and placed on the finished pages, where you can expect a lot of monster facts.⠀

I’ve provided the names of the real life species that inspired these beasts in case you were curious about that sort of thing. ⠀

I hope you enjoy them and will support the kickstarter when it launches. The more support we get, the more creatures I get to draw for you. Have a great day!⠀

*Posted with MWG permission⠀

#owlbear #dungeonsanddragons #comparativeanatomy #anatomy #fantasyart #digitalart #creaturedesign #illustration #bookillustration #dnd #paizo #pathfinder #allmannerofbeasts #sarahdahlingerart #beast #monster #panda #sunbear #polarbear #grizzlybear #toungeouttuesday #owl #greathornedowl #snowyowl #barnowl https://www.instagram.com/p/BSMRJwlDqgC/

Injured Football Player

Originally posted by secretly-buckybarnes

Summary: Bucky Barnes AU. Bucky is a pro football player who gets hurt during practice and the reader, his fiancé, had to find out through ESPN. 

Word Count: 1035

A/N: July is the last month of the year that there is no football, so needless to say I am pretty excited! I thought this would be a pretty cool AU to do. I don’t think I have seen a football Bucky before! Enjoy!

*gif isn’t mine*

 "Bucky,“ you yelled as you came into your front door, "James Buchanan Barnes, where the hell are you?”

  “What are you yelling about?” He asked walking out from his office. He looked at your with wide eyes. It wasn’t very often that you came home yelling about something, and you rarely ever used his full name.

 "You got hurt today in practice and I had to find out from ESPN?“ Your fiancé was a professional football player for the Dallas Cowboys. He had been playing in the NFL for about two years now. And you two met in college four years ago. 

  He rubbed his forehead and sighed, "It wasn’t that bad, baby.”

  You shook your head, “Don’t bullshit me, Bucky. What happened?”

  He leaned up against the doorframe, “I was running a play, Steve threw the ball to me, and no one was blocking me, so I got hit by one of the linebackers.”

  “Bucky?” you knew that there was more.

  He let out a sigh, “When he hit me I did a flip and I landed on my shoulder weird.”

  “Weird how?” You could see he was holding his arm gingerly.

  “They thought I might have broken my collar bone or tore my rotator cuff,” he said softly.

  You let out a sigh and walked up to him, “What did the doctors say?”

  “That I needed to get an MRI and X-ray. Y/N, I didn’t want to worry you right then, I knew you had all those meetings at the business.”

  You had meetings all day with clients for your family’s business. Your dad started the company years ago, and he made you the head of the Dallas branch. You leaned your head against his chest, “Bucky, you should have still called me.”

  He smoothed out your hair before he gave you a small kiss, “I’m sorry, baby." 

 You let out a sigh and looked up at him, "What did they say?”

  “I fractured my collar bone,” he gave you a sad smile, “I’ll be out for four weeks.”

  You hated seeing him hurt, and you hated that he was going to miss practice and possibly some games. You weaved your arms around his waist, “I’m sorry, Buck.”

  Bucky hugged you back and kissed the side of your head. After a couple moments it hit you, “Wait,” you pulled away and looked at him, “shouldn’t you be wearing a sling?”

  He chuckled, “I didn’t want to wear it when you came home.”

  “Because I wouldn’t have noticed you not practicing or working out?”

  He smiled, “Yeah, I didn’t think that through very well.”

  You smiled, “Where is it?”

  He turned around and grabbed it. He slowly placed his arm in it. He winced from pain when he finally had it on. It hurt you to see him hurt.

  You tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear and rubbed his cheek with your thumb.

  He leaned into your hand and smiled, “Have I told you how much I love you?" 

  You rolled your eyes, "Not today.”

  “Well I love you more than anything in the world. And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life,” he smiled sweetly, trying to suck up to me. 

 You snorted, “Alright, alright. You are still in trouble.”

  He leaned down and kissed you, “Still in trouble?”

  You nodded, “Yes sir.”

  He pulled you in closer to him and kissed you harder. You kissed him back and wrapped an arm around his neck.

   He finally pulled away a little, “How about now?”

  You smiled and peeked his lips, “Yes, but not as much as you were when I came home,” you pulled away and walked up the stairs.

  Bucky stared at you with wide eyes, “Y/N! Wait,” he hollered running after you, “You can’t leave a guy hanging like that!”

  You let out a laugh when you heard him coming up behind you, “Bucky, you have to be careful with your shoulder!”

  “I am totally fine to do this,” he pulled you towards the bed. When he flopped down with you he yelped in pain.

  You jumped up, “Baby, are you okay?”

  He just laid on the bed holding his arm, “I am going to find out who hit me and I am going to kick his ass! I can’t even fool around with my fiancé!”

  You laughed and kissed his forehead, “You will be fine.” 

  He let out a small whimper when you walked away, “Baby?”


  “Can you get the pain pills from my desk please?” he asked with a sad face. 

  You smiled, “Of course I will.” 

  When you got back to the bedroom you saw Bucky leaning up against your headboard.

  You opened the bottle and handed him two, “Here sweetheart.”

  “Thank you,” he took a drink of water and grabbed your hand, “I really am sorry about not calling you,” he kissed your hand.

  “I forgive you, Buck,” you brushed the hair out of his face.

  “Will you lay with me?” he asked sweetly. You nodded and climbed into the bed on your side. He gave you a sad look, “I can’t hold you when you are on my right side.”

  You let out a chuckle and carefully climbed over him to his left. “You okay?” you asked, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  He pulled you in tight to his side and kissed the top of your head, “This is perfect.” 

  You turned the TV on and he rested his cheek on your head. Within minutes the pills kicked in and you heard the sound of his deep breathing. You hated that he was hurt and that he wouldn’t be able to play the game he loved for at least a month. The only thing that you could do was be there for him and try to make things easier on him. Yes, he was a pain in the butt, but there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for him. You knew the moment he smiled at you in the history section of the school bookstore that he was the one you would spend the rest of your life with. You loved him, plain and simple.

Essays in Existentialism: Tops

Imagine Lexa wanting Clarke but being respectful of the boundaries she has set
Imagine Lexa having to stop herself from kissing Clarke
Imagine Lexa holding herself back with even innocent touches because she doesn’t trust herself
Imagine Lexa struggling against everything being a grounder has taught her, despite knowing that Clarke wants her too, because it’s Clarke and she deserves her respect more than anyone
Imagine Clarke finally telling Lexa that she’s ready
Imagine Lexa trying to treat her gently and carefully, to show her that this can be good and wonderful and a place without pain or violence
Imagine Clarke reassuring Lexa that she doesn’t have to hold back
Imagine Lexa breaking down after months of restraining herself and taking Clarke the way grounders do, holding her down, biting her neck, kissing her like they’re fighting and leaving marks all over her body
Imagine Clarke playing a game called ‘how much teasing can I get away with before Lexa bends me over the nearest table’

The trees were dancing in the breeze. Pirouetting and dipping, tangoes and waltzes celebrating everything that came in the spring. Every inch of the forest was shimmering, so that the entire world seemed to be in motion. To Lexa, it was all just fuzzy edges and blurring backdrop.

Climbing through the rocks at the base of the waterfall towards the shore was a familiar head of straw blonde hair, tossing smiles over her shoulders to those following the fearless leader like she had an unlimited capacity for them in her being, slipping and hopping over mossy ledges and high rocks like she was born to move like raindrops, thrumming against surfaces for just a moment and bouncing and drifting to another an instant later.

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Okay so I kept these to myself for a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery long time.

Anyway, I’m reworking my Trainer Sona COMPLETELY. This is Asteria Ashken, her name means “mistress”, “of the stars”, and all of her Pokemon are yes, named after stars / constellations.

Her Gengar can go Mega, and has been in his Mega form so many times that the red coloring remained. Her Sableye is a Moonstone variant, and her Bulbasaur is a Pumpkin variant (with my own twist xP gave her an actual pumpkin on her back). Next, her Vileplume is based off of the Arcandor from WoW because THE COLORS!! And her Hypno is heavily referenced from @russetmoth‘s beautiful Hypno Sophie (I’m sure it shows….), and if anyone REMEMBERS THE FUCKIN GAME, she weaves her Psychic attacks like Cat’s Cradle. Lastly, Aster’s Parasect is a Hollow Variant (crossbreed???) and also based on a certain type of glowing mushroom (dunno what it’s called). Asteria’s Kanto team is meant to be Halloween themed u w u /

I don’t want to tag the people that I referenced the variants from, but I provided the links to the original posts!!! u w u /

we’ve got all the time in the world

pairing:  (see fig.1)
word count:  1833
genre:  um idk they just chillin sort of. ends fluffy tho. but also bordering on angst?? no actual angst tho I promise

summary:  literally hide and seek but with a twist in time

[ @gllitch / @gaylatea THANKS BABE FOR INDULGING ME WITH THIS I ACTUALLY STRUGGLED A BIT THO no experience with the first theme lol I’ve never even read time travels before]

He swirls the wine around in his glass lazily, watching as the red liquid ripples and distorts the objects behind it. The room is a glittering flurry of dresses swirling every which way, occasionally dotted with a sharp black suit. He’s wearing one of his own, pinstriped and tailored to accentuate the strong lines of his body. It had been with appreciation that he’d admired himself upon seeing his reflection in the washroom mirror when he’d arrived.

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So I was watching Captain America the First Avenger again for the (I’ve lost track) time and noticed this…

Yes I would have stolen the Tardis to go on a date with Bucky too.

But then I saw this

Is Thorin suffering from dragon sickness again? where is Bilbo? I miss the beard.

then this happened

There are no Mr. Anderson’s here…

You think that was it BUT

After being with all those men while playing the Game of Thrones she needed to add poor Steve to the mix. Poor, poor, Joffrey.

Shawn Mendes-Jock Problems

Requested: anonymous
Word count: 1140
Warning: angsty…
Summary: you go to cheer Shawn on as he plays football, a fight breaks out and Shawn forces you to leave before you get hurt. Later on, he comes home with wounds that you help clean and bandage.
~ ~ ~
[3:30 pm]
You sat within the metal bleachers right after school with a chilly nip in the fall air.
You folded your arms over your chest to keep warm as you watched Shawn jog along the track with his team to warm up before the big game.
You sat with your girl friends and one of Shawn’s good buddies, whom is also your friend; Nash Grier.
“Let’s kick some ass boys!” Nash shouted and then clapped with the crowd as the team neared the bleachers.
Shawn spots you and makes plans to stop for you before starting the game.
You weave past Nash and stand near the edge as Shawn jogs up, looking all buff and intimidating in his football attire.
“You’re gonna rock it” you assure like always.
“Thanks babe” he says and sneaks a peck on your lips before bumping fists with yours and then catching up with the eager team.
You scooch back to your spot and sit on the cool surface to watch your boyfriend.
* * *
The match went pretty good until the opposing team accused one of their players of shaving points.
The players were very serious about the ‘violation’ and started getting violent with the poor lad.
Shawn and a few others on our school’s team, went to go help out the accused boy.
That’s when things went to pot.
Shawn got punched square in the jaw and everyone went crazy on the field after that.

You jump off the bleachers, not caring you were 5 feet off the ground and rush onto the grass field to find your boyfriend within the mess.
“Y/N!” Nash calls after you.
You see a few kids with broken noses and gashes to the face, laying on the ground.
It was almost like a high school version of black friday.

You scan the mess on the field.
Your eyes meeting a particular pair.
Shawn is on his back on the grass, he gets punched in the face by a player on the opposing team.
“SHAWN!” You shout in horror and begin running up to the two boys.

You grasp the big sweaty arm of the guy over top of Shawn and you try to with hold the punch being admitted.
The guy looks back to see you adding resistance, so he throws you off violently.
You land with a squeak on your back to the hard grass.
Nash tried to catch you but you slipped through his grasp.
Shawn flares with anger and grabs the guy’s head as he rises instantly, he knees him in the groin and then hammers him in the face with a fist.
But just as Shawn gets up, he’s tackled back down and struggling with another jock.
“Get y/n out of here!” Shawn tells Nash as he helps you up.
“Shawn!” You say and try slipping out of Nash’s grasp to him, but he has a firm hold around your middle.
“Let go!” You beg him as you begin to feel your eyes wetten.
Shawn grunts as he fights with the bigger jock on his chest.
“Shawn!” You cry out again.
Nash spins around so your facing his direction, he lowers himself so his head is at your hip and his one hand is on your back and side as he picks you up over his shoulder.

[4:15 pm]

You sat on the couch at Nash’s house with a big fleece blanket wrapped around you as you blankly stared at the tv playing some reality show.
The Grier family were on some trip to Malibu and left the house to their oldest son.
Nash hasn’t really spoken to you since he brought you to calm down at his place. So when he was bringing you some tea, he didnt know what to expect.

“I dont want it” you softly breathe as you avoid eye contact with his ocean blue ones.
He looks at you.
Noticing your wet tear stained cheeks were drying, yet, you were still worked up over what happened earlier.
He gently sets the warm mug down onto the coffee table infront of you and makes the couch cushion beside you dip as he takes a seat.
“Y/N” he begun softly, not knowing where to begin.
“I dont want to talk ethier” you tell him.
Your next sentence has a little shake in your voice, “I just want to wait for Shawn”.
Nash nods to himself in understanding.

Mere moments later, the front door opens and closes.
You turn your head.
“Shawn?” You ask.
You throw off your blanket and rush to the front entrance.
There is Shawn in his uniform still, but more beat up looking.
His one eye is red and looks like it will be a black eye. His nose is bleeding and his lower lip is cut, as is above his left eyebrow.
Thats all you can see from his face though.
“Bathroom. Now” You tell Shawn and take his hand, leading him upstairs.
* * *
You soak a cloth under warm water as Shawn sits shirtless on the side of the bathtub.
You squeeze the excess water from the fabric and then walk over to him to clean the dirt and blood.
When the cloth makes contact with his skin, he slightly hisses in pain.
You dont draw back though, you continue to cleanse his wounds and face.
“This is what happens in fights, Shawn. Usually they are worse” you tell him as you hold his face with your hand and wipe with the other.
“I know” he sighs in annoyance and sucks it up.
He watches you as you move back and forth to the bathroom sink, exchanging dirty cloths for new fresh ones.
“Are you okay? I saw you fall and didnt want any other harm to come to you” Shawn says.
“Got a few bumps and bruises but nothing compared to yours” you admit and look through the medicine cabinet above the sink amd grab what you want.
“Im sorry if this all upset you” he apologized and stood up, walking up to your smaller figure.
“I’ll get over it. You’re alive and okay, that’s all that matters” You say and fiddle with the tube of polysporin in your hands.
But you then point the tube at him and say, “And I dont mean to sound like your mother but I dont want to see you in another fight”.
“Understood, miss” Shawn smirks as you put some cream on your finger for his cuts.
“Good, now shrink down a few inches you’re too tall” you instruct, so you can apply the boo-boo cream.


                                          Margaret Beaufort [1443 - 1509]
                                                “Souvent me souviens”      
               (“I remember often”)                                     

Margaret Beaufort,Margaret was born on the 31st May 1443 at Bletsoe Castle in Bedfordshire. Her parents were Margaret Beauchamp of Bletsoe and John Beaufort, 1st Duke of Somerset, grandson of John of Gaunt, 1st Duke of Lancaster, and his mistress (and eventual wife) Katherine Swynford, and Margaret was their only child. A descendant and passionately loyal supporter of the House of Lancaster, was married, while still a child of twelve, to the king’s half-brother Edmund Tudor, as a way of endowing him with her enormous fortune and lands.
Her husband died of plague leaving her a thirteen year old widow with a baby son and she was speedily remarried by her family; but the triumph of York meant that the new king Edward ordered her little boy Henry Tudor into the guardianship of one his favourites.
Margaret must have thought that she would never live with her son, or see her true king again.
All she could do was to hope that the House of York would destroy itself.
It looked as if she was right to hope. The York court was riven with faction, and in 1470 their advisor and mentor, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick turned against them and restored King Henry of Lancaster to the throne.
This was a great moment for Margaret Beaufort.
Acknowledged as a great heiress of the House of Lancaster she summoned her son Henry Tudor and took him to be presented to his half-uncle, the king of England.

A legend around this meeting, say that the king had greeted his half-nephew saying that the boy would be greater than any of them.

The Lancastrian triumph did not last for long.

Edward the exiled York King recaptured the throne, killing the Lancaster heir in battle and murdering the king.
Henry Tudor had to flee into exile with his uncle Jasper and Margaret was widowed for the second time and alone.
With brilliant political skills, Margaret selected the most powerful and trusted supporter of York to be her husband number 3. She wanted a man who was clever enough to see that her son might have a chance at the throne one day, and duplicitous enough to serve two sides at once.
She found a perfect partner in Thomas, Lord Stanley. They married, and he introduced Margaret to her enemy’s court where she became so well liked that Elizabeth chose her as a godmother for one of the Princesses.
But then, unexpectedly, Edward the King died and the throne was seized by his brother Richard of Gloucester.
Margaret, smoothly, befriended the new queen Anne, and was first lady of her court, carrying Anne’s train at the glamorous coronation.
As Richard and Anne celebrated their accession to the throne, their apparently dear friend Margaret Beaufort played a double game, weaving the dissatisfied Duke of Buckingham into an alliance with her and with the former Queen Elizabeth.
She betrothed her son Henry Tudor to Elizabeth’s daughter, Princess Elizabeth, and when the Duke of Buckingham raised his men for a rebellion against Richard III he was counting on the arrival of Henry Tudor and his troops. They never came.
Bad weather kept them in port, and the Beaufort rebellion was washed out in a deluge of rain. The two princes in the Tower had disappeared, and were said to be dead.
King Richard knew Margaret had been plotting against him but he trusted her husband, to keep her under house arrest.
She never stopped plotting for her son, and when he finally invaded and rode onto Bosworth Field it was Margaret who provided the ally, the husband she had married for this very moment.
Henry Tudor won the battle saved by his step-father’s cavalry, he received his crown on the battle field from his step-uncle’s hands.
His first act after marching into London was to retreat with her for two long weeks, to celebrate their triumph and to plan their future.
She was a co-ruler of England, housed in every royal palace in the best rooms often with interconnecting doors to her son. She wrote the Book of the Royal Household, determining how state and private occasions should be erformed. She was a keen landlord of her vast lands, and took an active part in the government of the kingdom. She outlived her adored son but survived long enough to see her grandson HenryVIII erit the throne.
A sponsor of printer William Caxton, she translated and published the Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis along with other devotional works. Founder of Christs’s and St John’s Colleges at Cambridge she endowed the Lady Margaret professorships of Divinity at both Oxford and Cambridge University.  In 1499 Margaret took a vow of chastity before Archbishop Fisher and lived out the last years of her life as she had always wanted, devoted to pray and study. 

She called herself ‘My Lady, the King’s Mother’ and she signed her name like a royal: Margaret R – Margaret Regina.

Margaret died aged 66 on June 29, 1509, just two months after her son.  She is buried in the Henry VII Lady Chapel in Westminster Abbey. Her tomb was sculpted by Pietro Torrigiano and features a portrait effigy of Margaret dressed in traditional widow’s dress, her head resting on two pillows decorated with the Tudor badge, her hands raised in prayer and the Beaufort family crest at her feet. The Latin inscription, written by Erasmus, translates as

 “Margaret of Richmond, mother of Henry VII, grandmother of Henry VIII, who gave a salary to three monks of this convent and founded a grammar school at Wimborne, and to a preacher throughout England, and to two interpreters of Scripture, one at Oxford, the other at Cambridge, where she likewise founded two colleges, one to Christ, and the other to St John, his disciple. Died AD1509, III Kalends of July [29 June]”

sunlit  asked:

asher for the name game!

weaving in and out of a forest’s designated trail, an ambered old lightbulb swinging idly on a metal chain, jackets (all kinds), dogs (all kinds), additional director’s or actor’s commentary on deluxe dvds

themonotonysyndrome  asked:

Hi! New reader of your Ancient Music series here! I'd love your fics and especially the newest chapter of the Recovered Melody. Poor Corvo and Emily are sitting ducks while Billie and the rest are trying to help them out. It's interesting that they are in court setting instead of a public confrontation! Also, I was wondering if you're planning to put Death of the Outsider in the series now that it's out. The first and last game were weave in very nicely with barely plothole in your fics!

Hi! Thanks for the message! I’m glad you’re enjoying the series and the latest chapter.

I was pretty nervous, doing their big confrontation so differently. The whole premise of “what if Corvo got warning about the plot and Delilah didn’t have 3 years to plan unhindered. How would things go differently?” is really showing up now. Not able to rebuild her coven in so short a time and with Corvo closing in, I imagined Delilah pulling a big surprise by playing the victim of an attempted assassination.

Over the last 100k words, I’ve figured out a few things, and one of them is that I have way more fun when I’m creating my own plot, rather than trying to put a twist on the canon timeline. Chapters 6-17 where Corvo goes from location to location in Karnaca (but with my own twists on it) I wasn’t having much fun and I think it showed. But the parts I made up on my own I really enjoyed writing: Hypatia pretending to be Jindosh’s doctor to remove him from his house, the grand guard raid on Corvo’s room, etc.

I thoroughly enjoyed writing Forgotten Music, and that happened in-between DH and DH2, so I got to make up my own plot. And I think… if I ever do a Part 3, it will be more like Part 1: something that isn’t trying to fix/reinterpret a piece of the canon timeline. Idk if that will appeal to people or not, but if I try to do that same thing with with DotO that I’m doing with DH2, I’ll never be happy with the result. So after I wrap up Part 2 I’ll probably diverge entirely from the canon established in DotO.