#He is one of my first budgies

[cherrybudgie]

Islaboard ♡

Check out the tags 👇🏻

[spkyart]

Aren't they cute tho

[kyofsonder]

Life, aiming a loaded crossbow at me: I'm sorry. You were involved in the decisions that led to this, but you can't know whether they're worth it until everything is done. This is the first step. Endure it as best you can.

Me, shot with the crossbow bolt: [looks down and sees a label tied to the bolt that reads "metaphor for stressful situation"] Ow. Thanks for the warning, I guess? At least it's the only thing I'm getting shot with for a good while.

Life, reloading several bolts into the crossbow at once: Have you ever heard of speed shooting?

Me: I want it to be known that I resent this.

Life: Noted. [shoots me multiple times in quick succession]

Me, on the floor and stuck full of crossbow bolts all over my body: Recovering from this is gonna suck.

[spriteadjacent]

of course i get my second kissable bird just handed and then also have to give it away within days. how is that fair

[moonknixght]

Awkward conversations and.. Fishes? (Steven Grant x GN!Reader)

Summary: Curiosity to learn more about a gorgeous store clerk of a pet shop leads Steven to buying his first pet ever. Warnings: Fluff ?? and just embarrassingly long silences Word count: 1.1k A/N: Okay please imagine that Gus wasn't Steven's pet already 🙏 Might make a part 2 if I get ideas. Also first post woohoo!! Made this account solely so I could make my ideas a reality. I'm a little rusty at writing as of right now, so bare with me </3 Requests are open for stuff!! (please talk to me)

"And this little guy here, He's a feisty one, but he means no harm." Lifting up a perched budgie on your finger, who seemed to have distrustful look on it's face, You smile widely at the latest client that had stumbled upon your small shop. You've always been a passionate soul when it came to animals; from the age 8 when you first wanted to be a veterinarian, which you quickly backed out from after slight consideration as you realized that you would have to constantly put down animals and see them in absolute pain. The next choice was arts, which you did took a degree in, before landing on the final prospect of being a caretaker to injured animals. From there, you found yourself reverting back into your obsession, eventually starting a small shelter/pet-shop where you took in abandoned and wounded animals, healed them and put them back to find new owners. It would be a lie if you said that you didn't miss any of the animals that were taken by other people, but it was also a joy to see them go to homes where they would be given full attention and loved. Therefore, you found yourself rambling about all your beloved pets to whoever stepped into your little abode with any interest— which is what was happening right now. A guy, with almost perfect curly black hair and tan-kissed skin had walked in and began to mindlessly wander, often catching your eyes while he did so. You eventually walked up to him and offered your help, to which he seemed ever so grateful for, even though it was odd that he didn't know what animal he wanted to adopt. This man was Steven Grant. and only if you knew the panic the poor guy was going through. With Jake relentlessly pushing Steven to interact with the employee he's been eyeing through the glass doors of the pet-shop, Steven found himself awkwardly cruising through the different animals, who looked up at him with expectant eyes. Clearly, He needed a plan before walking into the shop, especially when you approached him with a confused look on your face. "Uh.. I-I'm not particularly fond of birds, love." Steven gave you a weak smile, he seemed like he was scared of possibly disappointing you. "Maybe the fishes?" 'Or the cats.' Jake added from somewhere in the headspace, obviously enjoying the shit-show. "Ah." You say allowing the bird back onto the bird perch, your eyes shifting towards a small section of the shop where you tucked away a rectangular aquarium with exactly one fish inhabiting it. "Well, The options are very limited with fishes." Steven was digging himself a deeper hole each time he enquired about the animals like he was actually going to get one— but don't get him wrong, he was genuinely finding your rambles about every creature there interesting. So interesting in fact, that he couldn't possibly leave without getting something. So, the most laziest pet to have would be a fish, according to him at least. You eventually lead him to the front of the tank, where you lightly bend (which Steven also mimicked) to meet eye-to-eye with a goldfish. But this wasn't any goldfish, it was a goldfish with exactly one fin. "He's your only luck if you're looking for fishes." "Does.. Does he have a name?" Steven asked, trying to keep the conversation going. How exactly was he going to take care of a goldfish anyways? Especially a goldfish that only had one fin? What if it dies? It'll ruin his entire day. Maybe his entire week.

 You tilt your head to think about it, before giving a soft shrug in response— which Steven admittedly found quite endearing. "Not really, He just came in like this I guess, Never thought to give him a name." 'A fish, Seriously?' "What about Gus?" Steven asked, turning a deaf ear to Jake's mocking comment. The goldfish paused for a second looking at the two observing it for a moment, before it continued to pace around again. It was almost like the little aquatic creature had approved of the name, but he wasn't planning on sounding like a total nutjob by expressing that out loud. "Hm, It surprisingly fits him." You say after a moment of silence. Though a second later, With a chuckle, You pick up conversation again. "You're pretty good at naming fishes, huh?"

"No! I just.. It came to me, I guess. Lil' fella looks like a Gus." "I agree."

After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Steven desperately tried to revive the exchange. "D'you know that Gus means Majestic? It fits 'cause it's quite amazing that he can swim with just a fin." 'Way to make them swoon, Steven. Buen trabajo.' Steven was truly getting sick of the unnecessary commentary from Jake, but he couldn't quite tell the wanker to piss off just yet. You, on the other hand, seemed to be intrigued by this rather sudden splurge of knowledge. Honestly, You didn't mind this at all, actually finding some amusement in how he suddenly geeked out. "Huh, I didn't know that." You said with a pleasant smile. "That's interesting now that you put it that way." "Yeah..." Steven's voice was small; the fear that he might have come off as weird subsided with your smile, which he reciprocated almost immediately. "I'll take him then." Your eyes lit up. For some odd reason, you didn't exactly expect him to actually get anything— Let alone a damn fish. Actually, Even Steven didn't know that he would end up being the owner of a fish, it just happened. He's technically already named the fish, it's only right that he takes it.

"Right, A moment." You nod, excusing yourself to go get the equipment needed to pack Gus away and off to settle in his new home. You come back a moment later as Steven stepped by the counter, Gus in a small plastic baggy as you balanced a small tank to put the little guy in as well as some food for the strangers convenience. Handing it off to him carefully, you nodded as you glanced at the only goldfish your store has seen be taken away. Who would've guessed. "I'll be off then, Thanks, love!" "You're welcome, Take care Gus!" You cheerfully wave them off, watching as your customer for the night took off. You sigh contently, feeling unnaturally happy about the whole interaction. Strange. — 'You bought a fish but you didn't ask for their name?' Gods, He totally forgot amidst everything. Steven had made it back home, his lip curling into a subtle frown as Marc bought forth a very valid point. The male couldn't help but sigh out loud, swiftly punishing himself with a face palm as he realized his error. Maybe Steven didn't manage to catch their name or learn more about them but as he laid in his bed, he found himself recalling how beautiful that store clerk looked when they smiled. And besides, he made a new friend— a companion he was starting to adore quite alot.

[cazzyf1]

James Hunt with his budgie collection

An article about it under the cut

Last weekend, I found myself at the World Budgerigar Championships, held at Doncaster race course. My guide was James Hunt, world motor racing champion for the 1976 season and of late an ardent breeder of budgerigars: greens, grey- greens, sky blues, dominant pieds and the like. In return for carrying my share of his nine chosen birds in and out of the hall he would transport me from Flood Street to Doncaster and back again. We put our budgies under wraps in the Estate boot and drove north. As we drove, James ex- plained budgies, their infinite variety and perfections of type. Looking straight at a show budgie one should not be able to see the eyes; broad- ness of head is commendable, as is a steep lift to the plumage, a long straight back, sleek body and proud tail. The spots under the neck merit special attention. Usually there are six forming a broken ring but false spot feathers can emerge and these have to be tweezered out. Another area of concern is the head plumage, which can develop waxy quill feathers and blood specks.

Budgies moult in October. Doncaster, the most prestigious show of them all, is held annually in early November. It is therefore a race to bring them back into good condition. Ten days before James had visited a couple of top breeders and found their birds in a shocking state. He doubted that they would be ready in time. I commiserated with him on their behalf. We then moved on to the question of breeding. James only shows birds he has bred himself. His prize accolade so far is second place in the Beginner Breeder class at Blackpool, almost as big an event as the one we were heading for. Pairing takes place in late November, so he was absorbed with the permutations. After this season, his second in the budgie world, he intends to put it all on a computer prog- rammed by an acquaintance in the blood stock industry.

`It's like breeding racehorses, only cheaper,' he explained; 'a good budgie can sell for a thousand pounds, more to a German or Swede, not that I pay anything like that. The most so far is a hundred pounds.' James, like many self-made millionaires, is prouder of his caution about money than its possession. If he gets his pairings right this year, the basis will be laid for a first-class stud. Cock it up and he's back at square one.

The action takes place in his back garden, an acre and a half just off Wimbledon Common. As he travels heavily for the BBC during the motor racing season he has a curator, the correct word, of budgerigars. Indoor and outdoor flight pens give his birds the freedom and communion which he believes are essential to their development. Not all breeders agree, holding that show budgies are as far removed from their cousins who flock in the Australian out- back as those dying generations are to Yeat's artifice of hammered gold and gold enamelling. It was not a simile I tried on James as I wanted him to concentrate on the road.

`Under your feet are some supplies for the journey.' I had already heard the odd crackle and rustle. Sure enough, there were packets of crisps and chocolate, all now washed in a litre of orange juice that had spilt from its plastic bottle and in- formed the road map. I apologised for my ineptness, but there was worse to come. Throughout the journey, which was nearing completion in the Doncaster one-way system, James had fretted about his feather-pulling tweezers, hoping they were buried deep in a trouser pocket. This proved not to be the case. They had fallen between his seat and the doings of the German hydraulic system. His hand could not reach them with ease. I volunteered mine as being slimmer. He warned me that if the tweezers fell any further they would be unsalvageable, lost forever. In went my hand, down went the tweezers. 'That's very naughty, Napier. I told you to be careful and what do you do? Charge at it without any thought.' So my first task on reaching the Danum Hotel, Doncaster, was to ask the lady receptionist — still agog at matching her booking name of J.S.W. Hunt to the reality — for tweezers without which our budgies might as well stay in the boot. Thank God for Allens the all-night chemist and their range of broad-, slant-, and curved-headed tweezers at £1.29p a shot.

By the time I returned, James and the budgies were in my bathroom — smaller than his, so less problematic if one escaped. Two needed their heads washed free of quill wax and blood specks. A sky-blue cock had developed an extra spot feather. The tweezers were presented and found adequate. Deftly he probed to the base of the feather and pulled. Out it came and we both felt relieved. Washed and petted, the budgies, each in a black- enamelled portable showcase, looked their full importance. It was time for us to take them to the show where they would spend the night, be judged in the morning and thereafter open to public view.

A night on the town in Doncaster. In our second pub there was a fight. Three girls, about 18, fell to the ground, two tugging at hair while their friend inevitably paid the higher price for interfering. No one else made the same mistake. A pause for breath and acrimony, then back into the routine. The moment they decided that no man was worth such punishment the bouncers moved in and swept them out. Later in the evening we saw the three of them together enjoying a joke. The pub and club centre of Doncaster is small enough to walk round. We kept on seeing the same faces circling and finally asking for James's autograph with lines like 'I know who you are, at least my father does'. In London he barely incurs a glance. But at the night club, Rotters, we found our entrance barred by a further charm of bouncers. `Where do you come from, please, gentlemen? London? What, may I ask, are you doing in Doncaster?'

`We're up for the budgie show.' The door was flung open. Budgies are great levellers.

Next day, James admitted what I had already begun to suspect, that exhibiting budgies was far more exciting than winning a Grand Prix. 'After the first third of a race you usually know you can win, barring mechanical failure. With budgies the adre- nalin is there right up to the moment you walk in and see how you have done.' We walked in. Stretching the length of the Doncaster Race Hall were showcases in three tiered lines, nearly 6,000 entries in 392 classes. It took adrenalin-pumped minutes to find any class James had entered. The world became a clearer place, full of stewards in purple badges, men last seen in our hotel lift, now turned into awesome judges, serious punters in cloth caps with a jaunty budgie feather. The floor was covered in brown seed, scuffed by the birds out of their cages. We passed the cages of successful champions, surrounded by plush velvet boards and trios with red, blue and green rosettes on them and sometimes extra awards from provincial bodies affiliated to the Budgerigar Society. We passed classes with names like 'Recessive Pied Breeder Hens' and swatches of colour the like of which Scott Crolla only dreams. We overheard snatches of conversation: `That's a big bird, champion,' Not enough feather on the little blighter,' and men rattling bars to get the birds onto their perches for a better look or photograph.

At the far left of the hall we reached the Beginner Breeder section and the end of our quest was bitter disappointment. A fourth, a fifth, and two sixth places. Not one rosette to show for it all, let alone the Best Beginner Breeder trophy that had seemed possible.

`Bad luck, James, it's a bloody high- standard show. Nice looking birds, I must say. Wouldn't swop your one for anything but the winner.'

The commiserations in broad and know- ledgeable Yorkshire were far more effective than my plaintive twittering. James took his disappointment well: 'It's all good experience. I now know how good one's birds have to be, so good that there's no dispute.'

`So you'll be coming back then, James?'

`Certainly.'

[hareofhrair]

Edith Finch Timeline

So I'm still organizing my theories (honestly they're more like a list of unanswered questions than a coherent theory right now) but I think my timeline is pretty much complete now that I've had a chance to go back through the pet cemetery and add all those in.

I do some wild speculating about Odin here that has no canon basis, just spinning ideas.

Things to notice- Just how many deaths happen on or very near birthdays. Not always the birthday of the person who dies and not every time, but suspiciously often.

The pets almost seem to fill in the years when no one human died? Like everything in this game it's nothing definitive enough to base a solid theory on, but it is odd.

TIMELINE

1439 - Earliest possible beginning of the Finch Family Curse based on the Odin viewmaster reel, as this is 500 years prior to the invention of the first viewmaster.

1445 - If the Odin viewmaster is the Model E made in 1955 (which I think it is), this is the start of the curse instead. Not much is happening in Norway during this period, but Vlad the Impaler was at the top of his game this year?

~About 7 generations of Finches dying horribly happens here.~

1880 - Odin is born. At some point between now and his death he writes "The Mysteries of Death and the Thereafter" and "Joining the Great Majority" which both appear to be books about the afterlife.

1896 - Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration begins with the Belgian Antarctic Expedition and won't end till after WWI. Expeditions are marked by depression, starvation, insanity and scurvy. Many famous expeditions are made by Norwegian teams. Odin is 16.

1911 - A Norwegian expedition is first to reach the South Pole. The British Scott expedition chasing the same goal are lost. Odin is 31.

28 July 1914 - WWI begins, Odin is 34. Norway, "The Neutral Ally", remains neutral on the war but due to economic pressure from Britain commits its merchant marine fleet (one of the largest in the world) to Britain's service. Half the fleet is sunk and 2000 seamen are killed. If Odin was a sailor, he likely served. Alternatively, he may have been one of the wealthy merchants who profited greatly during the war. He clearly has a great deal of money to burn by 1937.

June 17 1915 - Sven is born.

April 8, 1917 - Edie is born.

1935 - At some point between now and Dec 1937, Edie and Sven marry and Sven takes Edith's last name.

1936 - Ingeborg and her newborn Johann Finch die in an unknown manner. Odin is 56, Edie is 19, Sven is 17.

Jan 7 1937 - Odin sets sail for Washington.

Dec 1937 - Arrival on Orcas Island, death of Odin at 57. Molly is born, on the boat? In the Old House? Sven and Edie build the cemetery, and then the house.

1938 - Churpy the budgie joins the family.

1939 - Invention of the viewmaster, earliest point the Odin story could have been recorded.

Sep 1939 - Sep 1945 - WWII. Sven was 24, and may have served or been drafted.

1940 - Burpy the house finch joins the family.

1941 - Churpy dies.

1947 - Christopher the goldfish joins the family.

Oct 31 1947 - Halloween Baby Barbara

Sometime between 1937 and 1947 - Molly's unnamed gerbil joins the family.

Dec 13 1947 - Molly dies of apparent poisoning after eating mistletoe berries, on or very near her 10th bday. She relates hallucinating having become several animals, most notably a cat. Christopher the fish dies shortly after. The fate of her unnamed gerbil is unrecorded, as none of the unattributed headstones are of the right age, but presumably it dies eventually.

1948 - Burpy dies at 8.

April 25 1950 - Sam and Calvin are born.

Aug 26 1952 - Walter is born.

1952 - Lurpy the Cockatiel joins the family.

1955 - Viewmaster Model E released- If this is the one used for Odin's story, that puts the beginning of the curse at 1455.

1956 - Lucy the dog joins the family.

1959 - Bailey the (???) joins the family.

Oct 31 1960 - Barbara dies, allegedly murdered, on her 16th bday. Her boyfriend Rick disappears the same night. The version of her death shared in the game is notably extremely unreliable and raises numerous questions. Rick is seen in a leg cast using crutches. Walter is 8, Sam and Calvin are 10 and notably absent from reported events.

Sept 23 1961 - Calvin dies at 11 falling from a cliff. He is seen wearing a weathered and heavily autographed leg cast. His model shows him with a black eye and several cuts.

1962 - Zoe the (???) joins the family.

1963 - Lurpy dies at 11. (Cockatiels have a life expectancy of 20-25 years)

Aug 26 1964 - Sven dies on Walter's 12th bday, while making a dragon shaped slide. He's 49.

1968 - Walter enters the bunker. He's 16. Durpy the Dove joins the family.

May 7 1968 - Dawn is born.

1969 - Lucy the dog dies.

June 20 1969 - Gus is born.

1970 - Zoe dies

1971 - Purply the Budgie joins the family.

1974 - Coco the (???) joins the family.

Jan 12 1976 - Gregory is born

Dec 7 1977 - Kay files for divorce after arguing with Sam about the curse.

Dec 19 1977 - Gregory drowns in the bath a month before his 2nd bday

1978 - Shadow the cat joins the family.

1979 - Purply dies at 8.

1980 - Rob the Bearded Dragon joins the family. Bob the Snake joins the family.

1981 - Durpy dies at 13.

1982 - Oliver the rabbit joins the family.

Nov 8 1982 - Gus dies, crushed by debris from a storm during Sam's wedding to an unnamed woman.

July 16 1983 - Sam dies, kicked off a cliff by a deer. Dawn is 15.

1984 - Bob dies at 4.

1985 - Daisy the (???) joins the family.

1986-87 Dawn goes to India, meets Sanjay.

1988 - Shadow the cat dies.

Dec 27 1988 - Lewis is born. Furpy joins the family. Tucker the (???) joins the family

1989 - Oliver the rabbit dies.

1991 - Rob dies at 10. Furpy dies.

1992 - Zurpy the Owl joins the family.

May 19 1992 - Milton is born.

1993 - Charlie the cat joins the family. Daisy dies.

1994 - Durpy Jr the Dove joins the family.

1995 - Zurpy dies at 3. Schatzi the (???) joins the family.

Feb 14 1999 - Valentine's Baby Edith. Lowest tide in a thousand years allegedly allows Edie to access the Old House. At some point between now and Nov 2010, three unnamed gerbils join the family, and then die.

Feb 22 2002 - Sanjay dies in an earthquake, eight days after Edith's 3rd bday, Dawn and children return to Finch House. Dawn writes "To Teach and To Learn" at some point in the next few years. At some point between now and 2010, Dawn probably finds a stray cat and names it Molly.

Oct 23 2003 - Milton disappears.

Late 2003 to Early 2004 - Dawn searches for Milton, eventually gives up and seals the rooms for unknown reasons.

March 31 2005 - Walter leaves the bunker and dies, allegedly hit by a train. There are several strange inconsistencies surrounding the circumstances of his death.

2006 - Durpy Jr dies at 12.

2009 - Schatzi dies

Nov 21 2010 - Lewis dies of apparent suicide one month before his 22nd bday.

Nov 28 2010 - A week after Lewis's death, Dawn informs Edie they are leaving the house. After Edie attempts to give Edith a book containing a story about their family which Dawn violently rips away, Dawn flees the house with Edith immediately, leaving Edie and all her belongings behind.

(Molly the cat is not mentioned in regards to the move, so she may have died by this point, but she is not listed in the graveyard, so it's possible she was simply left behind. There is a taxidermy calico in Sam's room, but Sam was dead before Molly could reasonably have joined the family, so this is unlikely to be her. A cat is seen outside human Molly's room in 2016, which may prove she's still alive- but she'd be around 14 years old. An unlikely age for a cat abandoned outdoors for 7 years.)

Nov 29 2010 - Edie is found dead by nursing care workers, and may have killed herself by combining alcohol with her medication, intentionally or otherwise. She's 93, the only member of her family to live longer than her father, who died at 57.

Dec 5 2010 - The date on Edie's tombstone, a week after when she supposedly died.

May (around the 12-18th?) 2016 - Edith becomes pregnant.

Oct 12 2016 - Dawn dies of a chronic illness at 48. Edith is 16 and about 6 months pregnant.

Oct 13 - 19 2016 - Edith returns to the Finch House at 22 weeks pregnant.

Jan 18 2017 - Edith dies in childbirth a month before her 18th bday. Christopher is born (possibly named for Molly's goldfish?).

2027? - At some point in the future, a young Christopher returns to the house, which has changed since the last time it was seen. He is wearing a cast.

A note on unrecorded pets- There are additionally 5 (possibly 6?) unmarked pet graves in the cemetery. One of the blank stones presumably belongs to Rob the bearded dragon, who has a memorial in Edie's room but no gravestone. One is marked as a fish and another is a rabbit, with no names or dates. One is a knocked over and unreadable sign of the same kind used for the birds, indicating it may be an otherwise unrecorded bird. There is also a statue of a frog- the knocked over sign may instead refer to an unrecorded pet frog, or the frog statue might be a separate gravestone, or simply a decoration. This leaves one blank headstone with no indication of what might lie beneath it. Let's assume it's a mass grave for gerbils.

[macncherries]

hello little art blog Hello Mario,

Shit on this blog is SUGGESTIVE IN NATURE. I post what i want. If it is explicit NSFW it is censored. I will draw porn/NSFW, only the ugly bits are covered. If you want to see the ugly bits check my Patreon.

DNI ➫

◘ If you are not 16+. Yes its redundant, but people still wont listen anyways. ◘ Pro/Anti fuckers. ◘ Fetish content. ◘ Shotacon fuckers, Lolicon fuckers, & the like. Dont fuck with me. I know what you are. ◘ Plantcest fuckers. ◘ Republicans ♡ ◘ Christians unless its the 'Bible Fandom' Christians. ◘ Adult/Minor shippers. ◘ Blogs dedicated to glorifying/romanticizing self-harm in any format. ◘ Zionists ◘ Obvious things; racists, homophobes, transphobes, radfems, terfs, incest shippers, pedos, etc.

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⃝𖤐 Anyways. Hello, i am Adam, you can call me "Mac" too if that tickles your fancy. I prefer Adam because it is my real name, but Mac is just the shortened version of my user, so both are ok. ⛧ I am technicality Queer-identifying, but i may use the MLM flag out of convenience. ⛧ I am transsexual, FTM. ⛧ I have autism (AUDHD), so i may respond to you in weird ways and/or not pick up on social queues. ⛧ I am Caucasian ദ്ദി(╹-╹) ⛧ I am not religious and do not like particularly like religions. ⛧ I have a cat. Her name is Stinky. ⛧ My boyfriend is @halfbakedpenguin he does neat stuff. (˶˘ ³˘(´͈ ᵕ `͈˶)

My first language is English. I can speak/understand Japanese "well" conversationally, but reading it is more difficult, as i am still learning more kanji. Please speak to me in Japanese, i enjoy it.

Because of the ADHD/'Tism wombo combo, i switch from fandom to fandom with great intensity. There is no promise that what you follow for i will draw forever. Some hyperfixes last weeks, some months, some years. I am sorry ૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑ა

Here is my Carrd.

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Hello. You made it to the bottom. Here are fun factz.

◘ · · ─ I have aphantasia (I cannot see things in my brain, what people call "an imagination") (Yes, it makes art difficult) (No, i cannot imagine books/written media when i read them) (No, i cannot see my dreams. Dreams do affect my other senses though) ◘ · · ─ I have 7 piercings and 2 tattoos. I had 8 piercings, until my 1-year-old, completely healed nostril piercing closed on a random Tuesday afternoon. So technically the one in my intro art is a Lie. I mourn the loss of her every day. ◘ · · ─ I really love the word 'Soup'. ◘ · · ─ My favourite animal (and favourite isopod) are Giant Isopods. Specifically Bathynomus Giganteus. My second favourite is Ukrainian Skycutter pigeons. ◘ · · ─ Ive owned two budgies before, Lance and Rin. Theyve both passed now, but my second ever special interest was birds, and i still hold occasional hyperfixes on them ^_^ So, I am planning to adopt/rescue a pigeon! ◘ · · ─ If youre wondering, my first ever special interest was Minecraft. Again, it still possesses me every so often. I am also very good at BedWars because of it. Ive been playing it since Version 1.2 (Not to be confused with 1.20). ◘ · · ─ I have an uncanny ability to pitch & tone-match. As long as it is within my vocal range, i can imitate it to the degree it sounds like a recording. Thank you autism, very cool

[annabelle-creart]

How the AViVA’s song says: never understand what i’m cooking (Houdini by AViVA)

Ok, if you remember the post where I said I remembered what I wanted to do before forgetting it, it was something like this

The Sweet Tooth brainrot is making fun of me and wanted me to make an Au

So, here’s my Tf Rescue Bots x Sweet Tooth Au, where the bots (excepting Hightide) are Hybrids kids and the Rescue Team, simple humans from Maine, save them and protect them

At first I wanted them to be like cyberorganic and not completely hybrids but then I said “nah, let’s make them kids” because i wanted some animal kids shenanigans and here we are

I just saw that I forgot to make Sissi, shit, well, Sissi is undetermined, but I want her to be a fox.

The wolves triplet are Shockwave, Soundwave and Heatwave

The kids with Graham are Boulder (left) and Bulkhead (right) and are hedgehogs, the big man is Hightide and the kids he have on his arms are Blurr (left) and Salvage (right), a saanen goat and a german shepherd dog

The kids above Hightide are Cody and Frankie as apocalypse teens HAJAHSJS. Ft. Kade and Quickshadow as an owl

And the red panda and the budgie are Chase and Blades

I sincerely just wanted to sketch a little but let’s make some backstory

When the great crumble happened, Griffin Rock had to close to any kind of person, but chief Burns couldn’t let the kids, the new hybrids, by their own, he was sure they wouldn’t survive with the angry people and wanted to make something, so, he left the island with the hope he could save some, and so he did, a year later he came back with some kids, and after seeing they’re not contagious, Griffin Rock became a secret sanctuary for hybrids, but the job was still undone and Charlie had to go, since then, Kade became rescue chief and made sure to protect both citizens and hybrid orphans, especially when the new pregnancies resulted on hybrids and the people started to really fear the kids, but sometimes, he’s replaced by his siblings to make his dad company at mainland and help him.

Thanks to Griffin Rock’s tech, the island never was found again by people, especially the Last Men, who hunted hybrids, making their own ways to reach mainland without being reached, at that times, Graham, the engineer of the Rescue Team, Ezra Greene, scientist lead, and Hightide, named Horace in this Au, a retired Navy and marine soldier, have to help guiding the kids when Charlie can’t

As Kade, Frankie and Cody became also “saviors of hybrids” because they wanted

And for Morrocco, Madeline and the other zoo guy I don’t remember the name, I wanted to kill them with the Sick (the virus that fucked up everything) but it would be fun to have them trying to reach Griffin Rock, like, Morrocco needs the kids blood to make a cure for the Sick but he really wants to stay young with their blood, and Madeline is a racist who uses the kids as trophies and her influences to hunt the kids and the zoo guy want them for their zoo or something, like with the bots :=)

This group, the triplet, the twins, Blurr, Salvage, Quickshadow, Chase and Blades, were the hardest to find and save, because they were bought by the Last Men to be used on experiments, the wolf triplet could escape before being Last Men's soup and found Charlie using their noses, they told them everything as they could because Shockwave was the only one who knew to talk but poorly, so, Charlie prepared an ambush when the kids were transported by train to save them, the equivalents of Hence, Board, Bridget, Stone and Grill were already used, never were find again, but the rest were rescued and sent to Griffin Rock. their lives became a little brighther since then.

But the Last Men weren't the only ones who wanted the hybrids…

Whatever, don’t mind my crazy ass🙃

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

no because I spent less than a third of my school years in Brazil and yet whenever I do maths in my head I still always resort back to Portuguese

no because I always speak Portuguese with my mom and we almost exclusively listen to Brazilian music at home but the first time we went back to Brazil after covid just listening to all the people around me casually speak in Portuguese almost made me burst into tears

no because one time I was sleeping at my grandma's and I still hadn't completely woken up and the birds were singing (we used to have australian budgies) and for a moment I thought I was still living there, at my old apartment. I don't even know how many years ago this day happened and my memory is absolute shit but I still remember the feeling of bittersweet grief when I woke up properly

no because I always get so hyped whenever I hear someone casually speaking Brazilian Portuguese like even if I don't outwardly acknowledge them just hearing it always fills me with so much joy

no because whenever I forget another word in Portuguese my heart breaks a little

no because even if I do my hair the exact same way here and there it still comes out with a completely different texture (it looks better over there in case you were wondering btw)

no because I mostly speak Portuguese with my mom and I didn't even realize that some of the words I use are actually super outdated

the point being: I really appreciate that there are so many characters that come from different countries in Stormlight Archive, and that Sanderson has clearly thought a lot about their different cultures and religions and politics and worldbuilding in general. however. i don't think he quite realizes how personal a place and a language can be. like obviously my experiences are far from universal, not to mention very different from theirs (much much less trauma for one lol), but especially when we get a pov from one of those characters I can't help but think that there is always something.... lacking? missing?

let shallan complain about her hair and skin routine not working the same anymore ever since she moved away from her home. let lunamor be a bit resentful of his new family for not even trying to learn his real name. let The Lopen forget more words in alethi now that he's surrounded by his herdasian cousins again. let shallan not be able to properly talk about her drawings in the way she wants to whenever adolin asks because she learnt all the proper words in her vadan art book. let there be foreign members of bridge four who adore alethkar and those who hate it and those who feel a bit of both at the same time.

dunno. i know these are just small details, but i noticed that these are small details that matter to me (and I can imagine that many people with a foreign background may feel similarly?)

[am0ng-us-sus]

DOMESTIC BIRDS HAVE NEGATIVE SURVIVAL INSTINCTS. NEVER RELEASE THEM INTO THE WILD!!

No matter how 'right' you think it is,it's never okay! Domestic birds,especially parrots,have no idea what is and isn't a threat. I take my budgie's cage down into the kitchen (when nobody is cooking) to clean it because the room he is in is carpeted,and I'd much rather sweep then vaccum every time. Sometimes my dogs get into the kitchen,and this little bird is not afraid of my dogs whatsoever. In fact,this bold little shit was about to go over and bite one of their noses through the bars when said dog got past the baby gate into the kitchen.

Besides this,even if said bird can recognise a threat,they have no idea how to evade it sense they weren't taught to.

And birds bred with unnatural color mutations have no camouflage to defend themselves. This is most common with blue budgies. If you didn't know,budgies are naturally green and yellow,the blue color comes from years of domestication.

Not to mention,most places birds are released are not even the correct habitat. I often see videos of pet parrots being released into cities or towns,when most parrots live in tropical rainforests,while Budgies live in the outback.

These birds often die in a few days of 'release'. Throwing pets into the wild is in general a death sentence,no matter the species.

I know a lot of people don't believe birds should be 'mistreated' in pet stores,but here's the thing: Proper bird owners give their feathery friends happy lives. Birds are often mistreated in captivity mostly by the average person. I know someone reading this probably has or knows someone with a pet budgie or finch that is treated like an ornament. It may suprise many,but budgies need a balaced diet,a large cage,and plenty of exercise and meantal stimulation,just like Macaws and Cockatoos. Birds in general aren't low maintenance pets,and a bird being smaller doesn't mean it has less care needs.

Some might say that an animal like birds shouldn't be domesticated in the first place. And this is partially true,due to all the unintentional mistreatment of birds,and how they are marketed as easy low maintenance starter pets,especially budgies and finches,when in reality,all birds are as exotic of a pet as a koala. Many people impulse buy because of how cheap birds like budgies and finches are,and how supposedly 'easy' it is to care for them,just because they don't require daily walks or grooming doesn't mean they're low maintenance. Before you get any pet,you should do extensive research.

In conclusion; Releasing a pet bird into the wild,no matter the species,is crueler then keeping them as pets and giving them a good life. Please,do not do this.

[iandarling]

WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY

thank you for the tag lovely @michellemisfit

Name: Katrine

Age: 25

Location: Norway 🏔️

Top sheet, yes or no? i had to google this because it’s not something we use here, so…no?

How many stuffed animals do you own? i’m a proud mother of two squishmellows

The names of your pets (and the explanations behind them): both my birds have passed at this point, but i had two budgies called Polter (a character from a kids tv show) and Romeo (because he was the handsomest little boy, sometimes we called him casanova)

Favourite colour: pastel pink 🌸or lemon yellow🍋

Any tattoos: nooOooo i’m too indecisive and i’m also scared of needles (but i would like a shark or whale tattoo one day) 🐋

How you transport your belongings (purse, tote, hands, pockets, etc.); i’m a bag/purse girl, i love a cute little bag or tote

The last movie you watched: The Amazing Spiderman 🕸️

How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?: it can be anywhere from 10-40 mins, depending on what i’m doing and where i’m going

Favourite weather: a lovely april day; not too cold but not sweltering hot

Relationships status: single, but i do want a relationship (but i don’t wanna date and i don’t wanna talk to boys so you see my problem)

Ice cream flavor of choice: ice cream is my favourite thing in the world how could i choose!! hmm i guess vanilla, brownie, caramel, and cookie dough

First fandom: BBC Merlin or Les Mis

How many books have you read this year?:…i started reading TBOSAS and forgot i was reading it halfway thru, then i started rereading Jane Austen…i mainly read fanfic tbh

First 4 words of your last notes app entry: a little more than 4 words but it’s what i’m working on rn “Lip Gallagher- a life in five chapters”

And finally, if you had to change your URL tomorrow, what would you change it to?: well my first ever screen name online was “wishful fairy” but i’m no longer 11 years old, so i think i’ll stick to the ones i got now lol

Please join in!!

@mickeygifs @mickeym4ndy @mickeysgaymom @em-harlsnow @roryonic @iangallagherisadeadman @iansfreckles @iansw0rld @ianspaw @stocious

[ebullientheart]

violet. emily prentiss x reader

content — requested by @lucreziaq2001 . heavy warnings for child loss (stillbirth). please proceed with emotional caution. fem!bau!reader. grieving.

six months ago, you and emily lost your baby girl. the team are here for you on this day.

there is no earth-shattering comparison of pain that compares to losing a child. there isn’t an adjective or analogy that can describe the feeling to anyone who has not experienced that grief, and only a silent understanding between two that have. when you’d woken that morning, with emily already sitting next to you, she’d instantly had you in her arms, as though trying to shield you from this feeling. but such a shield could not exist in a world where you’d experienced such loss.

some point that night, your three year old son had climbed into bed with you, likely as a result of a nightmare. regardless of the reason, you were never more grateful for his presence. oscar was a quiet boy, but not still. never still.

“morning, baby.” you whispered, enveloping his tiny hand in your own. the beam he offered you sent shockwaves of love through the resolute cracks in your heart. the tight grip on your upper arm told you that emily was feeling the same way. she released her hold mindfully, and instead passed a hand gently over your stomach. sometimes you could feel a phantom pain there. not this morning though.

you moved slowly. everything was lulled into a half-pace, with emily’s gentle encouragement and oscar’s plea for pancakes serving to keep you moving. slowly, slowly, you mixed the batter, while emily warmed up the stove. occasionally, she’d squeeze your hand to remind you of her presence.

i wonder if violet would like pancakes. her brother certainly does.

usually, you had to push these type of thoughts to the back burner of your brain; you were likely to be incapacitated for the day if you let them dominate. but today, you permitted yourself the pondering. if there was a day to think about violet, it would be days like these.

a small budgie landed on your window sill, uncommon for houses in the city, and you had to think it was a sign. you saw them everywhere. you knew it was probably because you looked for them, but how could you not look for your baby in every aspect of the world?

“mumma?” oscar approached you while you were deep in thought, lightly startling you, though you welcomed his attention.

emily saw the tears on your waterline and intervened, scooping up her son and placing him on her hip as she said, “let’s give mumma a moment, yeah? we can go set the table.”

you smiled at her sadly, and she again held your hand as she passed you, before trailing away to let you have your thoughts. sometimes, they were a refuge, no matter how full of grief.

at that moment, your phone buzzed. it was hotch, which you were somewhat expecting. hotch and jj were the others of the team who had their own children, and therefore the most empathetic. and hotch had felt the fear of losing jack, the same day he did lose haley, so he was the one who could connect the most.

“when i thought, for a while, i was going to face my son’s funeral, i lost control,” he’d muttered to you in hospital, where you lay in a numb aftershock, “and that was only a thought. if there is anything, and i mean anything, we can do for you… you let me know.”

sometimes you cried, sometimes you shouted. sometimes emily did too. sometimes oscar asked why he never met the sister he’d been promised, and there was no answer for that. no why in the cruel, vexing world. but there was healing, gradually.

you slid breakfast to three settings on the table, bitterly wishing for four, with that same soft, sad smile from before, “here we are, my loves.”

while your son dived into the food enthusiastically, emily did not sit down at first. she rounded the distance between you to pull out your chair, something she’d done since your first date, and rest a hand on your shoulder. it wasn’t uncommon for the passing of a child to push couples apart, but it had glued you and emily together. the constant touches were just a reminder of the love still left in the world, one that extended far beyond to where your baby rested.

there was no combating the pain, but months of therapy helped you accept it as undeniable evidence of love. love for violet, love for oscar, love for emily, and love for yourself.

while your son was entertained with his junior lego set, you dried the dishes that emily washed, loading the bowls from earlier into the dishwasher. by the time you had finished, still moving sluggishly, the clock read half ten, and emily checked her phone.

“are you feeling up to some company, sweetheart? the team want to come and say hello this evening.”

you cast your eyes down to your hands, and finding them free of tremors, you agreed. it took some time to dress for the day, including a moment in the mirror where you had to shed some tears. emily reciprocated this reaction, and the two of you swayed in each other’s hold for a while. eventually, oscar became bored of his inflatable book and twisted his way in between the two of you to insist on ‘up!’. you laughed wetly, wiping your cheeks (too harshly based on your wife’s disapproving stare and careful repeat that followed), and bent at the waist to hoist your demanding toddler ‘up!’.

eventually, evening arrived, and you felt only minorly more prepared than before at the prospect of people in your home that day. nevertheless, you shook your body free of tension and headed outside at the sound of approaching vehicles. you tried not to think of that same sound, accompanied by sirens, coming to take you away six months prior.

emily descended the steps before your porch to meet the others at their cars, probably to issue an unnecessary but appreciated reminder for them to be sensitive. you stood in the doorway, determined to have the remainder of the day a comforting memorial, with oscar leaning his face on your shoulder. at the sight of the incredibly colourful and therefore toddler appealing penelope garcia, however, he quickly wanted ‘down!’, which you gave with a bright smile at his joy. one that surprised you, as you didn’t think you would be capable on such a day.

first to greet you was hotch, who had driven over garcia, jj and rossi, who greeted you in turn. morgan pulled into the drive at the same time, with reid in his passenger seat. there were all dressed in their varying styles, but they all sported a purple, or specifically violet, accessory. hotch’s tie, rossi’s shirt, jj’s bracelet, morgan’s shoelaces, reid’s vest and… garcia’s entire ensemble. hair included.

you willed the overwhelming emotion, as a result of their support, that scalded your throat back down into your chest, where it settled warmly. an acknowledgment of the family you found in these people.

there was confusion on your part when they did not try to enter your home, instead lining up on the roofless section of the porch with you. you turned to emily for an answer; she wrapped an arm around your waist and directed your attention to where garcia had brought your son to the cars. the two emerged holding many balloons, all violet, and begun handing them out to the line up of you.

“do you want to say anything?” emily mumbled to you, while the others pointedly chattered to alleviate any pressure you may have felt.

you choked and shook your head.

emily cleared her throat, leaning on you as she said, “we love you, violet.”

and the balloons went up. nine of them, twirling skyward with no weight to hold them down. they flew up and east, with the wind, and you stood until the last one edged from your view.

the sun set, and streaked her colour across it’s domain, bathing you all in that light and love you didn’t expect to feel on that day. that gentle hand on your heart, reminding you that you were not alone, and she was not alone.

[genderlessghoul]

Inspired by the recent puppy post from Motley Zoo and my undying love for animals, here's what I think each of the ghouls/ghoulettes would keep as a pet :

Phantom : He saw someone walking their dog his first week topside and made it his life mission to get one. After a lot of research and internal debate, he ended up adopting a pitbull/labrador mix from a local shelter. Her name is Petunia and she's the definition of sweet baby angel.

Mountain : He decided to fully commit to the farm boy aesthetic and he got himself some quails. They have their own coop and fenced little garden. They used to be have free range on the entire gardens but they'd always end up eating his vegetables. They look like tiny little chicks when he's holding them. He lets the other ghouls choose their name which unfortunately got him stuck with one called Cum. His favourite was affectionately named Nugget by Swiss.

Aether : Bunny. Tiny little miniature one too, all white except for a small black spot on its nose. It's free to roam around his room and Aether learned the hard way to hide any and all loose cables (more than once). He named it Dust. Because Dust Bunny. He swears it's funny.

Rain : AXOLOTL. She's albino and he named her Rose because of her pink little frill gills. He can understand her somehow, some weird water creature thing. She has a very simple brain tho and mostly screams at him for food. Dew and Swiss love to draw mustaches and hats on her tank with markers.

Dew : He has a black cat named Purrcifer. The cute little thing just started following him one day and Dew can't seem to get rid of him (not that he tried too hard). He says it's the Ministry's cat cuz he spends all day roaming around the ground and hunting mice, but the cat definitely sleeps in his bed every night.

Swiss : He swore he'd never get a pet, he's too unfocused to remember to take care of one properly. Until he accompanied Rain on a trip to the pet store and spotted a ball python. Love at first sight, just look at that puppy face. He spent weeks doing research and was pleased to learn that they only eat like once a week? Maybe every two weeks? That's perfect. He got a huuuge female and named her Fluffy. Fluffy is his pride and joy.

Aurora : Ferret. She wanted a cat at first but she discovered that they came in noodle format and was like !!!YES!!! She taught him fetch. They play with paper balls. He's stolen other ghouls' snacks on multiple occasions.

Sunshine : She really wanted a chameleon but she saw how high maintenance the suckers are and settled for a crested gecko. It doesn't officially have a name because it wouldn't recognize it anyway. Definition of no thought, head empty. Most times, she calls it NO STOP DON'T JUMP THERE. She loves it so fuckin much.

Cumulus : She has the cutest blue budgie. She taught it so many tunes that they sing together all day long. It loves nothing more than to hang on her shoulder all day and watch her do her tasks. One of its many favourite sounds to imitate is the ringtone of whoever's in the room with them. No one knows how it learned to differentiate them all.

Cirrus : She set up a pretty little saltwater tank in her room. It's home to two clownfish and their anemone. They're called Led Zeppelin and Metallica, no she will not take criticism on the name. The tank is very beautifully decorated and everyone keeps bugging her to put up a big one in the common room, which she always refuses cuz she doesn't trust any of them with salt water.

[kyofsonder]

Trick or treat

I've seen other people answering with a wide variety of things, so... here's a treat, a picture of my budgie Pond the first tome he spent more than 1.5 seconds perched on my hand. It's one that I find cute, and you might find cute too.

[budgie-city]

Character introduction: GESHA

Occupation: Florist

Color variation: wild (light green normal)

He’s the central character of the book, from whose perspective most of the story is told. One of the main trio, consisting of himself, Yasha and Gosha.

His prototype is my very first budgie, now long passed, but the memory of him immortalized in a book. A quiet introvert. It is easier for him to build a peaceful conversation with his favorite flower than to actively communicate with someone. But he does not mind quiet conversations, especially with friends (more precisely, with a loved one, because he has practically no friends, except for his girlfriend Milana; he prefers to keep the rest in the rank of "acquaintances").

Long and active conversations quickly tire and irritate him; and although the former daycare worker is not deprived of a good supply of patience, it is still not infinite. It ends even faster when he sees injustice.

He is essentially a walking botanical guide book, and if you ask him about the plants in his collection, he will enthusiastically begin a two-hour monologue and will not stop, even if you slip away at the tenth minute and never appear in his field of vision again.