#Blue Jay Woman

[slowlysointernet]

Just something that i want to point out that is that Bran never changed and then mated with Leah and Bjw in the same way. I think some people are overlapping the two and get confused on this.

As far as we readers know, when Bran first meets with Bjw he's mentally all there unlike when he first meets Leah. As the story goes, he finds her wounded from a moose and saves her by changing her but nowhere in the books does Bran mention that he forced the mate bond on her and i'm pretty sure that piece of information would have been stated if that was the case.

So the most logical way of understanding this is that he changes her > after a while courts her and she agrees, then they mate. Something else to consider is that it's most likely that the man made the decision to mate then the wolf agreed. Why do i think this? Well because;

-Bran would have mentioned it in Wild Sign when he was recounting how he changed and mated with Leah

-His own son Charles had his wolf make the decision first and i think Bran would have mentioned it to his own son that he mated his mother that way and would have helped his son navigate his mating with Anna

[bonemarble]

trying to pinpoint the author's intentions is a process that concerns but does not exhaust textual interpretation imo. sometimes it's impossible to guess. or things emerge from the page that no one consciously thought to put there. or, other times, the reader and the author's intepretation are going to greatly diverge based on different worldviews. es. it's very possible pb wrote bjw and bran's story genuinely thinking about a loving relationship complicated by some "cultural differences" and individual clashes. however, placing bran as a white man in (what would become) montana in the 1800s has some implications. the story of the wide "wild" west as a great expanse of terra nullius free to take without human cost was just that, a story. the historical reality of the process is one of colonisation and genocide, which is ongoing and from which usamericans still benefit. bran grabbing land west of the mississipi during this process and settling there marks him as someone that actively participated in or at least abetted or at the very least directly profited from that colonisation and genocide. if this context is taken seriously, his relationship with bjw necessarily assumes some sinister elements (which can coexist with the romantic ones!) - regardless of whether pb intended for those elements to be there. the narrative about a white man "having to" transform an indigenous woman in order to save her, closely tracks the narrative about white people's chosen mandate to colonise "savage" lands in order to bring "civilisation". bran even does both! whether he forced bjw into her turning and/or mating is not irrelevant and i don't think it's strongly implied that he did, from a literal pov. but that doesn't mean that the story still doesn't stand, figuratively, for coercion disguised as paternalistic benevolence. determining whether this framework is endorsed or criticised (or at least considered critically) within the text can tell you the position the story takes on the issue. it doesn't necessarily reflect pb's full opinion on it and it certainly doesn't have to move the needle on yours.

[saydesole]

First Black Woman to win a Grammy in the Country category

Happy Black History Month

Country Music Is Black Culture ✊🏿

[itsjohnjohn1]

Who are your top celebrity crushes of the 2020s decade so far?

1. Christen Harper

2. Chloe Bailey

3. Imogen Ewan

4. Kelsey Merritt

5. Sydney Sweeney

6. Mataya Sweeting

7. Gigi Dolin

8. Megan Thee Stallion

9. Jonica Keating

10. Tate McRae

Runner-up: Rubi Rose, Anna Jay & Skye Blue

*Had to do some thinking lol, technically they've all started careers before 2020s but like you said, more associated/prominent with.

[jetslay]

DC Super-Heroes by Gene Gonzales.

[sarahreadstoomanycomics]

Happy Mother's Day

[shy-girl04]

Model - Françoise Hardy

Excerpt from...

The Widening Road

A blue jay flies low over her into the madrones.

She can still see it—its bright movements rocking a branch—

surely delighted that it matches the sky.

.

The honest clouds.

.

A tenderness grows like a fluttering in her hand.

.

She wants to hold it in her arms but not pin it down,

the way the tree holds the jay generously

in its willful branches. The spring is blowing

through her, pulling the dead debris free from her limbs.

.

She cannot decide what she desires, but today it is enough

that she desires and desires. That she is a body

.

in the world, wanting, the wind itself becoming

.

her own wild whisper.

By Ada Limon

[emsleyanbluejay]

i hate trying to look up clothing/fashion inspiration for my OCs, especially for my OCs who are masculine and/or fat, because everything i find is either hyperfem, overly formal, just fucking ugly, or only designed for skinny people

[dailydccomics]

multiversal warriors  Countdown: Arena (2008)

[donnatroyprincessofthemyscira]

Art Credit to Blue Jay

[aellostomb]

Still over hauling my ocs, first sketch of my blue jay Aoife

[ejochsner]

Birds of a Feather OC Aesthetics 11/16

Corey Coburn (She/Her) 🥃

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[lemonfairyd]

Lemon's beasttober day 20: Siren

While Sirens are similar to and often mistaken for their aggressive cousins, the harpies, you can tell the difference between them in three ways. 1.)where harpies have only 4 limbs, sirens typically have 6 (their arms and wings being detached). 2.)Where A harpy is a solitary persistence hunter who screams and chases their prey until they either keel over or actively kill themselves, Sirens hunt in a Flock and ambush their victims, swarming them and leaving scraps for their young. 3.)Harpy song is said to sound like an angry wailing shriek(to compare to human music, think screamo sung by an elderly woman), where sirens lure in their prey by singing in a choir arrangement that is said to be otherworldly, harmonious, and deeply profound(in recordings, no lyrics in any human language can be made out).

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.

He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.

Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.

"Danny? Y'okay?"

Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.

"Hm?"

"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"

Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"

There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.

“Yeah…?”

Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.

“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”

Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”

“What… what happened to her?”

Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.

“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”

“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."

"But- Robin!"

"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."

And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.

How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?

It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.

"But first, you gotta help me with something."

"... Fine."

Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.

"Let's go. We're destroying this."

"We are?"

"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."

"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.

"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."

"He's not that bad."

Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)

They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.

Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.

"So... How long am I grounded for?"

At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.

"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.

Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.

"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."

---

"Hey, Danny?"

Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.

"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"

Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"

Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.

"His name was Danny too."

Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."

Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.

"Is that... bad?"

"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."

"Thank you for telling me, Jason."

"Whatever."

Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.

"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"

Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.

"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."

"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"

His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."

"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.

"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."

[emsleyanbluejay]

the first day of pride is a wonderful time to announce that my gender and sexuality is whatever makes you gay