#angry birds dahlia

[toast24]

Looks like one of my favorite childhood games turns 10 today...

Happy 10 year anniversary Angry Birds Stella! Thank you for sparking my interest for creating dumb silly comics!

[fireflyish121]

Happy Pride Month (2024)

Currently I'm unsure about doing this again next year because of how long this year's art took but I'll decide that once next year rolls around

[queen-gale]

Quite a classy look, don't you think?

[look-at-the-starssss]

Drew some Willow x Dahlia for Valentine's Day!! Ehehe some of my followers on Instagram requested this,,, love those two<3333

[cmors12]

Poppy Dahlia Willow and Luca

[darkwolfgoddess]

On the 4th of September 2014, Rovio released Angry Birds Stella. With an actually interesting story, awesome characters and even it's own TV series expanding on the shenanigans of the Golden Island, it was one of the most unique games of the francise's history.

While discontinued, the memory of this game continues to live on in our hearts. May it last into the future.

HAPPY 10TH ANNIVERSARY, ANGRY BIRDS STELLA🩷💛🩵💙🧡💜🦜✨️🌟!!!!!!!!!!

[transparentmoontraveler]

Angry birds Dahlia transfeminine

[thunderstomm]

I KNEW SHE WAS A LESBIAN ‼️ WE WIN ‼️

[mcavian]

After completing experiments in Golden Island, Dahlia would always love to go visit the science museum located in Bird Island. To her, the place is very calming. She even got to see a cool portrait that is one of her favourite scientists, Albird Einstein!

[sarahfucka]

Just feel yourself, grl.

[nebulaafterdark]

More Than Anyone Pt. 3

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

More plot than porn this time.

Part 1 | Part 2

It has been some months since the Driftmark debacle. Y/N is growing by the day, about halfway through her term. Aegon delights in holding her close, with her back to his chest. Stroking a gentle hand over her baby bump.

He hesitates for a moment before he speaks. “There is something I’ve been meaning to run past you.”

“Mmm.” Y/N is nearly asleep. Comfortable, happy and he is about to ruin it all.

Aegon breathes a sigh of relief, “it will keep till the morrow.”

“But now I am curious, you must tell me.” Y/N insists.

“My mother wants to organize a hunting party for Laenor’s seconds name day.” Aegon tells his wife. They had a similar celebration for their daughter’s second name day. Where their son, Laenor, had subsequently been born, in a tent with only Aegon’s help.

“This does not please you?” Y/N smirks, “I promise not to give birth this time.”

“She wishes us to name him our heir, during the procession.”

“Laenor is our thirdborn child.”

“He is our firstborn son.”

Y/N purses her lips, “the Iron Throne is Dahlia’s birthright.” She had come into the world first, followed quickly by Visera a few moments after.

“I am advised by the small council-”

“Alicent brought this matter before the small council?” Y/N’s cheeks begin to burn.

“In the interest of the realms, my dearest love. This would help strengthen the reign of house Targaryen.”

“My mother named me.” Y/N reminds him. “Not Jacaerys, Lucerys or Joffrey. Even at the births of the children she shares with Daemon, never did she spurn me.”

“And you will make a fine Queen.” Aegon tells her.

“Then why not our daughter? What makes you think she will be unfit to lead?”

“We are toying with centuries old tradition, a dangerous game, under which we all will be crushed if it falls. I have no taste for duty. I could not care less about a stupid chair made of swords or who sits it. What I give a damn about is you. Our children. Leaving behind a safe place for all of them to live, truly live. If Laenor wearing the crown is all it costs, how could I be opposed?”

“This is much bigger than that and you know it.” Y/N pushes away from him, gathering her dress.

“In what way?” Aegon demands, settling at the edge of the bed.

“Look at the scene in its entirety before deciding on which side you fall.” Y/N brushes past him.

“Tell me then, what do you see that I do not?” Aegon catches her hand.

“I see,” Y/N trails off, staring down at their joined fingers. The metal of her wedding band stares back, taunting her. “I see a better future. One we cannot hope to achieve while the present stands. I had hoped you might sculpt it with me, or at the very least, hold my fucking hand.” She pulls away.

Aegon sighs, “where are you going?”

Y/N laces up the bodice of her dress with little care. “I need a moment to think.”

“I do not wish you to leave angry.”

“I am not angry, Aegon.” Y/N murmurs. “I am hurt. There is a difference.”

————————————————————————

Y/N moves about the Red Keep restlessly. Only servants and guards walk the grounds so late.

“What has you wondering the castle at this hour, little bird?” Daemon. He is the only one ever to call her that.

“I am,” Y/N is lost for words. Or perhaps she is just, “lost.”

Daemon shifts against the pillar upon which he sits. “That is unlike you. Of all my children, I worry for you the least.”

“Aegon and I are at an impasse.”

“That is marriage for you.”

“We do not agree on a line of succession.”

“Mmm.” Daemon hums, “that is a tricky one. Good thing you are not required to name an heir just yet. Not until you inherit the throne and that will be a number of years. Long after I’m gone…and your mother.” The words are slow to pass his lips, as if they pain him.

“Alicent is pushing-”

“Push back.�� Daemon replies, flippantly. “You are the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Heir to the Iron Throne.”

“So instead of resolving this issue I should ignore it in favor of starting a separate issue with the Queen?” Y/N begins pacing in the corridor.

“Aegon may not rank high on the list of people I’d save first from a burning building; but he does adore you. Be firm, put your foot down and do not lift it. He will bend to your will in time, he has done so before.”

“I do not wish to manipulate him into doing my bidding.”

“You believe that Aegon has never manipulated you?”

Y/N wraps both arms around herself. Perhaps he has, would that change the way she feels about him? “I don’t believe he has.”

“Marrying you benefited him tremendously, it boosted his favor amongst the King and the value of his words in court. Perhaps he does love you, that is fine. But if he cannot stand against the snakes which whisper in his ear, then he is not the best match for you.”

“We could hardly annul the marriage now, we’ve children.”

“There are other ways.” Daemon smirks, “say the word and we could have you ready to remarry before the moon turns.”

Y/N isn’t sure what he’s implying but she knows no good will come of it. “That will not be necessary. Thank you for your wisdom, Daemon.”

“I will see you on the morrow, Princess. Chin up.”

Y/N loves her husband, different as he is. Aegon has his honor and she has hers. His heart is good, his intentions to grant their children peace are true. She can be patient as he learns that there is more than one way to provide that peace. She wonders for a moment if Aegon would find his way back to a pleasure house that night.

The Princess returns to her chambers, to the bed she has often forsaken in favor of his. Tossing and turning through the night until the sun peaks through her curtains. She dresses in a simple red gown, setting off to bid the children good morrow. Finding Aegon on the floor of their eldest daughter’s room.

Dahlia is still dreaming, back to her father. Y/N makes her way down to the floor, jostling Aegon’s outstretched arm. “Aegon,” she whispers, “Aegon.”

“Shh,” he quiets her, “lie with me.”

“What are you doing in here?” Y/N whispers, making herself comfortable on the rug.

“I could not find sleep, same as you.”

“Who said I could not find sleep?” Y/N says, indignantly. Allowing her husband to wrap her up in his embrace.

“You were here before the children woke and look every bit exhausted.” Aegon buries his nose in her hair.

Y/N traces patterns on the back of his hand.

“I do not wish to be at odds with you, I cannot bear it.”

Her heart seizes, “I need you, Aegon. I need you to stick up for me when others pour their honey in your ear. I need you to make decisions with me, not for me. I need you to stand at my side. Show the masses and our families that we are a united front, that we love each other.”

“I will do this for you.” Aegon vows.

“Thank you.” Y/N breathes a sigh of relief.

“Can you forgive me for being so short sighted?”

“Only if you can forgive me.”

“I could forgive you for anything. You are the love of my life.”

————————————————————————

“Prince Aegon is not in his chambers.” Talia informs the Queen.

“And we’ve checked the Princess Y/N’s apartments?” Alicent asks, fingers ticking nervously at her sides.

“Her rooms are also empty.” Ser Criston confirms.

“The children?” Surely they wouldn’t have taken off in the night. Y/N would’ve at least informed Rhaenyra. They wouldn’t dare be caught in the silk streets either.

“Princess Visera and Prince Laenor have been taken by their maids to break their fast with Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra.”

“Where is Dahlia?” Alicent demands.

“The Princess did not open her doors, the maid is not to enter until she does, by Princess Y/N’s authority. Yvette believes she still sleeps.”

“No.” The Queen shakes her head. “That is not like Dahlia.” She sets off immediately to her granddaughter’s rooms.

“Your Grace,” Talia trails after her.

“I will send for you if I require further assistance,” Alicent dismisses her, “thank you, Talia.” She moves through the corridor faster than what is appropriate, flinging open the doors of Dahlia’s quarters and rushing inside.

The little girl is awake, she waves to her grandmother. Sandwiched between her mother and father in the four post bed, both their eyes closed.

Alicent waves back, perturbed and confused at the state of things, but that is not her granddaughter’s fault. “What has happened here, my dearest love?”

“Mama and Papa were sleeping on the floor.” The girl explains. “I asked if they wanted to sleep in my bed too. Maybe they had a night terror.”

“Perhaps.” Alicent reaches over Aegon’s shoulder to card her hair. “Do you want to get out of there?” The tangle of limbs.

“No,” the little girl admits. “I quite like it here. Just don’t tell Visera and Laenor, they will be jealous.”

“This will be our secret then.”

Dahlia blinks at her. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Of course.” Alicent smiles.

“My Papa said I’m going to be hair.”

“That’s silly, isn’t it.” Alicent replies, quietly.

“Like Mama is her Mama’s hair.”

Alicent hopes her face does not display an ounce of her dismay. This is not a jest, or words exchanged during a childhood game. Aegon told Dahlia she is to be heir. Heir to the Iron Throne.

Part 4

Series Taglist: @sophiexoxsblog @alicentswife

[salvadorbonaparte]

Broaden Your Horizons 2024

A Non-Fiction Rec List by Salvadorbonaparte

Books

Adventures in Yiddishland: Postvernacular Language and Culture - Jeffrey Shandler

A Good Man in Evil Times: The Heroic Story of Aristides de Sousa Mendes -- The Man Who Saved the Lives of Countless Refugess in World War II - Jose-Alain Fralon, Peter Graham (trans.)

Brief Answers to the Big Questions - Stephen Hawking

Erebus: The Story of a Ship - Michael Palin

Every Word Is A Bird We Teach To Sing: Encounters with the Mysteries and Meanings of Language - Daniel Tammet

Federico Garcia Lorca: A Life - Ian Gibson

Getting to Yes: Negotiating an agreement without giving in - Roger Fisher, William Ury

I Am Malala: The Girl Who Stood Up for Education and Was Shot by the Taliban - Malala Yousafzai

Ice Ghosts: The Epic Hunt for the Lost Franklin Expedition - Paul Watson

Identity and Violence: The Illusion of Destiny - Amartya Sen

If I Understood You, Would I Have This Look on My Face?: My Adventures in the Art and Science of Relating and Communicating - Alan Alda

Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism

Iwígara: American Indian Ethnobotanical Traditions and Science

Lingo: A Language Spotter's Guide to Europe - Gaston Dorren, Alison Edwards (trans.)

Monsters in the Closet: Homosexuality and the Horror Film - Harry M. Benshoff

One River: Explorations and Discoveries in the Amazon Rainforest - Wade Davis

Watching the English: The Hidden Rules of English Behaviour - Kate Fox

What's Your Pronoun? Beyond He and She - Dennis Baron

Documentaries

Bowling for Columbine

Break It All: The History of Rock in Latin America

ReMastered: Tricky Dick and the Man in Black

She's Beautiful When She's Angry

Street Gang: How We Got to Sesame Street

Podcasts

Clear+Vivid with Alan Alda

Freaks and Psychos: The Disability in Horror Podcast

Lingthusiasm

Ologies with Alie Ward

Root of Evil: The True Story of the Hodel Family and the Black Dahlia

The Sewers of Paris

[fireflyish121]

[queen-gale]

Kneel before me ⚜️

[grizzlyofthesea]

I got bored and found/downloaded an APK for Angry Birds Stella. Do any of you guys remember this game? It was one of the Angry Birds games I had on my tablet as a teen, along with Space and Go.

I wouldn't consider myself an Angry Birds aficionado, but I have lots of nostalgia for this specific game. Willow (hat bird) was my favorite back then, but it's a toss-up between her and Dahlia (thicc eyebrow bird) now.

Very cute game overall, with a very cute cartoon series, too. It's a shame that Rovio gave up on it so quickly.

[rjzimmerman]

How to co-exist with a belligerent catbird. (Washington Post)

My childhood bedroom had a Jane Goodall quote on the wall — “My mission is to create a world where we can live in harmony with nature” — and I think this helps explain how I became a person who surrendered five blueberry bushes and my dignity to an angry catbird.

We called her Catherine. The spring when my daughter was 2, Catherine claimed the entire garden beside our house as her domain. I discovered this when we went to pick blueberries from our bushes; as my toddler plucked the fruit, the bird began calling loudly. Then she dove toward me and landed on my headband. I gasped and jumped, startling my daughter.

“What happened?” she asked, and because I wanted to convey a scene that was more Beatrix Potter than Alfred Hitchcock, I said, very calmly: “Mama catbird is asking for some space for her babies! What a good mom! Congratulations on your babies, Catherine!” Then I hurried us away, my daughter cheerfully calling, “Congratulations!” to the bird who was still shrieking and swooping toward my head.

When we think about living with animals, we might think first about pets — how they teach us empathy, responsibility and patience and shape our daily rhythms. But the wild creatures who inhabit our yards and neighborhoods offer their own lessons in companionship and accountability, and these, too, have become an indelible part of our family life. My daughter’s first words were, “Hi, squirrel!” as she waved to the plump rodent peering in the window. When the white-tailed deer bring their fawns to our yard, we are sure to keep the birdbath full; the nursing mothers are always thirsty. My children greet our garden residents by name: Mariah, the chipmunk, known for her clear, high-pitched vocalizations; Sally, the eastern cottontail rabbit, who nests in the flower bed; Albirdo, the redheaded woodpecker, who rudely banishes all competition from the suet feeder. (“Share,” my daughter urges him, unsuccessfully.)

Albirdo doesn’t understand that edict, but we try to uphold it. This is the one little patch of Earth over which we have any measure of control, and I want our family to share it thoughtfully with the other beings who belong here — even when those relationships demand a little extra compromise.

My loved ones have come to accept my soft spot for the wildlife forced to adapt to our modern human presence. In an apartment where doves nested above the concrete patio, I set out cushions and towels to soften the landing for fledglings. I once baited a humane mouse trap with parsley and peanut butter and conducted daily releases in a wooded area behind the yard. (Turns out I was releasing just one mouse, who returned day after day, increasingly plump and at ease with our morning routine. My mounting suspicion led me to dot a black Sharpie on the back of his head before he dashed into the underbrush. The next day, I drove Sharpie Mouse to a park several miles away, where I bid him a permanent farewell.)

Others are more skeptical of my devotions. Once, circling the perimeter of our house with a termite prevention specialist, he gestured toward the ivy-covered stump where a magnificent oak once stood. “That,” he said gravely, “will attract voles or chipmunks to live there.” “I know!” I gushed. I think he realized I was a lost cause.

Catherine sensed my weakness, too. She harvested the majority of our blueberries that first year; I didn’t dare challenge her. The next year, I tried to net the bushes — but she built her nest within the netting, so I gave up and took it down. Every time my husband passed by to take the trash out, she divebombed him. Still, I couldn’t bear to banish her.

In our third year as neighbors, when it came time for me to plant my dahlias in the raised bed — squarely in Catherine’s territory — I knew I’d need protection. I dug my old horseback-riding helmet out of the closet.