#bird bag

[corvidsofthedeep]

No Context Crow #178: Crow Bag

But it on Etsy, here!

[allyallyoxenfreeeee]

Here’s a cute bag everyone should have in their wardrobe, available in many different colors. The Pinko bag which is half off from it original price $430

[bonzatrading]

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[webdiggerxxx]

꧁★꧂

[bob-artist]

It was worth a shot.

[bamsara]

being an adult means we can buy or make as much self-indulgent shit (as we can afford) and unironically have trinkets of our fave things cause our teen years was bullied for liking things and hiding/denying we were ever neurodivergent to the point of suicide. sucks for anyone that thinks its weird cringe but I'm going to try and allow myself to love myself in little ways now

[acorviart]

a new tote bag, feat. the eurasian tree sparrow!

these have both shorter handles that can be used like a regular tote bag and a longer adjustable (and detachable) strap for crossbody wear

shop's opening feb 3, 2pm cst

[thegivenchythree]

Chanel spring 2025

[thegurlwhoisntthere]

Batfam Idea

What if when Dick was going through his phase (it wasn’t really a phase but for the purposes of this post that’s what I’m calling it) of naming everything “bat___”

He starts in the cave, as normal, that’s the Batcave with the batcomputer, with batfiles. And over there is the Batmobile and we fight with battarangs and—

You get the idea. Bruce tried to fight it at first but within a week he’s like “what’s the harm with theming a little more” and it’s fine…

Until it spreads to the manor.

Now he’s calling the kitchen the batkitchen, the paintings are batpaintings, and the furniture is batfurniture, and this is going to be a problem. So Bruce tries to convince him that they can’t call them that because secret identities and that doesn’t work because why would people care what we call the rooms in our house, Bruce?

Clearly that doesn’t work so he goes a different route and tells him they can’t call them bat-things because bats live in caves and underground, so the manor wouldn’t count. This stops it for a little while, until Dick gets it in head that that means all the interior rooms (no windows) are batrooms and all the other rooms (with windows) are birdrooms. If bats get the underground and enclosed, then birds get the above and open space.

This sticks and remains largely unchanged until Tim joins the family. Tim hears Dick explaining the difference between the bat and bird rooms and immediately goes “not nearly specific enough”

They then go around to each room and come up with different bird related names for them, going as far as changing the names of rooms on the floorplans and the surveillance cameras.

By the time anyone else joins or rejoins the family the rooms are physically labeled like: Warbler Sunroom, Humminbird’s kitchen, and Honeycreeper hall.

Alfred kind of loves it and helped them choose little signs that don’t clash with the manor’s existing style.

Bruce, on the other hand…. He wants to hate it, he really does, but it does make it easier to reference specific parts of the manor without having to give specific directions like “the 22nd room on the second floor in the east wing, with the portraits of blah blah blah” he can just say “the woodpecker’s den” and they all know exactly what he’s talking about.

Why is this relevant?

Imagine, if you will, Bruce trying to explain this to people who don’t live in or frequent the manor. Imagine he’s in an interview and he’s telling a story about something his kids did and he’s slips in, “and so I got to the Flamingo’s hideaway and—“ and the interviewer interrupts like “you got to the what’s huh???”

And now you have Bruce blushing and stammering, genuinely because he didn’t mean to let anyone know about this, but it’s become habit to refer to the rooms like this and..

Idk I just think it’s a fun lil’ concept

[sosuperawesome]

Bird Bags and Egg Purses // Corviforms

[obsob]

here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud!!

✷(print shop)✷

[heartnosekid]

hyacinthoney on ig

[holdonjiji]

Hermit Thrush have one of my favorite bird songs. Love when they come back in the spring.

This guy was stitched onto a shirt pocket that is rags now, so I cut this guy off and now need to transfer him somewhere.

[adventuresofalgy]

Algy was always concerned for his wee feathered friends in the depths of the winter, when the weather was cold and they could find little natural food to eat, so to be on the safe side he decided to feed them himself, just in case his assistant was too busy to get round to it before the short January day turned back into night.

The more agile small birds were happy on the peanut and seed feeders which his assistants provided, but the ground feeding birds could not manage to cling to those, so Algy scattered some grains and old sultanas on the frosted grass and then sat down to wait for his fluffy cousins, trying hard to ignore the unpleasant prickling chill in his tail feathers.

At first all was silent and still, but before long there was a rustling and a bustling in the bushes, and a few minutes later the garden birds started to emerge one by one and flock around him, for they were exceedingly anxious to find food.

Algy smiled happily as he watched them, and from time to time he conversed with those who were not too much occupied with eating to pay attention, but when they were concentrating on the all-important business of replenishing their energy, Algy began to sing a well-known song from an old movie – a song which he often hummed to himself at night, if he was finding it difficult to fall asleep…

And if you have a garden or an outside space, or know a little old bird woman or man who sells crumbs – and can spare a tuppence or two – Algy hopes very much that you will feed the birds as well 😊

Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul's The little old bird woman comes In her own special way to the people She calls, "Come, buy my bags full of crumbs" "Come feed the little birds, show them you care And you'll be glad if you do Their young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare All it takes is tuppence from you" "Feed the birds, tuppence a bag Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag Feed the birds", that's what she cries While overhead, her birds fill the skies All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles Look down as she sells her wares Although you can't see it, you know they are smiling Each time someone shows that he cares Though her words are simple and few "Listen, listen", she's calling to you "Feed the birds, tuppence a bag Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag" Though her words are simple and few "Listen, listen", she's calling to you "Feed the birds, tuppence a bag Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag"

[Algy is singing Feed the birds from the 1964 movie Mary Poppins.]

And for those who are still young at heart, here is the clip from the original film:

[spacerockband]

september light me up

[withclawandvine]

today i am thinking about helping hawks with those hard-to-reach pinfeathers 

it’s the ones closest to the base of his wings that get him; that tricky place where flesh meets feather, and his very human rotator cuffs can only twist so far. so despite the itchy discomfort, he can only wait for the protective sheath around the new feathers to chip away on its own, aided by the obscenely high water pressure in his penthouse shower. but that was before you. 

you, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you take in the sight of him —  still dripping from his shower, arm contorted awkwardly behind him, reaching up from beneath his left wing, falling mere centimeters short of the spot that was bothering him. as he turns to look at you, his frustrated grimace shifts into a bashful smile.�� 

your smile, meanwhile, is imbued with amusement. “need some help?” 

unsurprisingly, you’d never heard the term pinfeather in your life, but listen raptly as he explains that the white needles are new feathers, coated in a shell of keratin until they’re done growing. you catch on quick, gently pinching one between your thumb and forefinger, gasping a little when the sheath turns to dust with the slightest bit of friction and reveals a vibrant crimson feather. 

a task that had seemed so insurmountable to keigo takes you only a few minutes. he rolls his shoulders and ruffles his wings with a sigh of relief before turning around to thank you. that’s when he sees it, that melancholic look in your eye you get when he knows you’re thinking about him — his stolen youth and solitary existence. he also knows that no amount of it’s not that big of a deals or i’m fine now, reallys will ease your mind, so he opts for diversion instead. 

“you know,” he starts in a drawl, “in the wild, preening is a way birds bond with their mates.” 

it kind of works. at the very least, it gets you smiling again, “is that so?” 

“yeah. it’s a…” he trails off, suddenly shy. and he knows he’s trying too hard to sound casual when he continues, “it’s a show of trust.” 

you roll your eyes with affection, taking his aversion to vulnerability in stride and leaning in to kiss him. “i love you too, keigo.”