#pigeons story

[mplanetleaf]

ధర్మచక్రం - చక్వవేణుడు ఎవరు? | Wheel of Dharma - Untold Moral Story | MPlanetLeaf...

[poqu]

birdbath?

[iwillwringyourneck]

[extinctionstories]

Next week, I graduate with my BFA in Art. This was my final piece of Illustration coursework. Hoping that it'll be part of the pitch package for a real book before long. 😊

Billions of Mouths to Feed Like most birds, the passenger pigeon was omnivorous, feeding on a wide variety of plant and insect matter. The most important of its food sources were mast-producing trees. A single pigeon could eat half its body weight in a day, and flocks wandered thousands of miles in search of a bountiful harvest; it was this habit of travel that gave the bird its name. Pigeons showed a preference for the mast of the American beech, the white oak, and the American chestnut (a tree whose own catastrophic population collapse, resulting from imported disease, may have played a role in the concurrent decline of the pigeon).

[reunitedinterlude]

lofi phantasy: the album

tracks 9-12 (x)

[the-writing-pigeon]

Singing In the Shower

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, showering, nudity, Bucky sneaking into the shower, physical touch, pet names (doll), suggestive/slightly dirty talk (if there is anything else let me know!)

A/N: This is something that I came up with, and since I am revamping some of my old stories, there will be some changes. It’s short but sweet, so I hope you like it:) Again, If you recognize some of these stories, I ask that you please do not interact as if I am the same person. I am trying to stay anonymous.

Ever since you were a little girl, you have always loved to sing. You would make a tune or rhythm out of anything. Whistle, drum, hum and most prominently, singing. Your family loved the concerts you would put on, your little plastic microphone in hand. All of those memories come flooding in when you start to hum your favorite childhood song: A teenager in love. 

“One day I feel so happy, The next I feel so sad.” 

You continued the song and smiled when you sang the lyrics that followed. 

“Why must I be a teenager in love?” 

You tried to be as quiet as possible with knowledge that Bucky was sleeping in the room right across the hall. He had a very long mission today, and waking up to a grumpy Bucky was not on your to-do list today. 

Your lips pulled up into a smile once again as you sang the chorus. You couldn’t help being a hopeless romantic, and you were so lucky to have found Bucky. The time you met, was a silly incident on a trip to Romania. 

You thought about the first time the two of you met. It was a silly incident while you were on a trip to Romania; 

You had tripped over your own feet and spilled coffee all over the ground. When you went to get napkins, you turned around and a man had come to help you with the mess. 

You smiled brightly and said, “Oh you don’t have to help me. It’s my own clumsy self coming out.” 

The man shook his head and replied, “It’s alright miss. It’s just some coffee.” 

Let’s just say that you haven’t ordered coffee in public since then. You shook off the funny memory as you rinsed your (length, color, and texture) hair. While humming to yourself, you didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open, your boyfriend entering the steam-filled room. 

The shower curtain barely shuffled open, and you could feel the warm presence of your loving, hunky boyfriend behind you. He had taken his metal arm off before hopping in, making sure the technology didn’t get ruined. His lips pressed soft kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, his right hand resting on your soft tummy. With his skin pressed against yours, everything felt right.

“I didn’t know you could sing doll.” His voice is low and groggy, most likely just from waking up. 

The butterflies in your belly fluttered, and a smile grew on your face. “Only in the shower.” You say, leaning back in his warm embrace. He gives your forehead a gentle kiss, and the two of you sway as you continue to hum your favorite song. 

“You know, I bought this album on vinyl when it first came out, it was my mothers favorite.” Your brows raised, almost forgetting that the man you love was born much earlier than you were. 

“Wow… it must’ve been a hit if it is still popular today, hm?” You turn, looking up at Bucky, his blue eyes crinkling with joy as he smiles. 

“It was,” He pauses and cups your cheek, his thumb grazing over the soft and textured skin of your face. “But I think it sounds better when you sing it.” The burly man leans down, peppering your face with kisses until he finally presses a soft kiss to your lips. Even though you have known him for a while, and you live with him, you still get nervous around Bucky. And every kiss feels like the first; Magical. 

His gentle hand helps you scrub your body, and he helps you condition your hair, turning off the faucet once he finished. He reaches out of the shower and grabs your soft towel, wrapping it around your body with his arm just like a big hug. 

“Do you promise to sing more often, doll?” He asks, smirking as adds, “Maybe on my cock next time?” 

With a gasp and a light slap to his chest, you giggle and press a sloppy kiss to his lips. 

“In your dreams!” You say, laughing with Bucky as you both exit the shower, feeling clean and happy. 

[ahollowgrave]

@viiioca asked: Send ✨ to see them in something they aspire to wear or would like the chance to wear.

She loves a reason to dress up.

[ray935sworld]

New theory:

Vale cursed Marc's new bf but he didn't know that Bez is secretly dating Marc and that's why Bez is flopping his way through 2024!

[scribblekingdom]

This is DoodleBug she's yours now. She's very friendly don't worry :)

[queerfables]

If you are ever in charge of a kid it is IMPERATIVE that you sometimes let them get away with stuff, because you will never see a grin like the grin of a kid who is Getting Away With Something. You gotta be a coconspirator and help them steal extra slices of capsicum that were supposed to go in the frying pan for dinner. You gotta pretend you don't know exactly what they're doing when they try to buy themselves another ten minutes before bed. I absolutely promise that the benefit of enforcing a non-essential rule 100% of the time is nothing compared to watching their delight over successfully breaking it.

[whereserpentswalk]

They say throughout the city there's some spots where small animals have strange behaviors. The types of animals that everyone just forgets, the rats and the pigeons and the sparrows and the mice and even some of the roaches.

They'll carry their little things to what look like alters that they craft out of the garbage they find. They'll gather in large groups and make strange noises, pigeon and sparrow and rat and mouse side by side, performing some strange ritual. Nobody can really know why, it seems like there wouldn't be any reason to do such a thing, for creatures so forgotten.

The rituals get more and more common when they get closer and closer to certain points. And when you get close enough, they say the creatures start weilding weapons and tools, and speaking in a strange language, and building tiny cities for themselves that have something strange living at their center.

There have been a few people who say they've spotted what lives at the center. Something big, perhaps as big as a human, but of the same forgotten kind as the rodents and grey birds that worship it. The kind of the pests, who they loyally serve in exchange for gifts of higher thought. They are the twisted things that a scavenger would think to call a god.

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

The Abhorred | Adar/OC (part 1)

Summary: It is a moment Maethoriel never imagined, but the empty raiment at her feet proves that it had, indeed, come to pass. Sauron is dead. She should feel relief, but all that she knows instead is a sense of fear over a world that will see not only herself, but her companions as monsters to be eradicated at any cost. It is a fear that will pull her away from the only one who ever kept her safe. And she is hardly blind to how holding on to that fear almost certainly risks keeping her forever adrift from the one that she loves.

Warnings: angst, some hints of Stockholm syndrome, references to torture, it's gonna get pretty dark in here, folks. Warnings will be updated as the series goes on.

Tag-list: please let me know if you would like to be tagged for future updates!

A/N: Whelp...I've gone and done it. And I am freaking terrified that I will somehow mess this up! The vision in my head is something I am so, so very excited about, but imposter syndrome is a thing, and I'm not 100% confident I can pull it off. I suppose only time will tell?

Either way, though, this one is for all of my fellow Adar-girlies! He deserves all of the attention and love he can get, and I really hope that the demented little plot gremlins running amok in my mind have created something that at least some of you will enjoy!

It was not supposed to end like this.

That is the only thought the woman seems capable of as she stares down at the place where he once was. Where the one who had caused her so much pain had rested, dead. Gone. No more. Some small part of her knows that she should feel relief. That she should be pleased at his demise.

Now, though, all that she can seem to understand is the bone deep feeling of regret.

"I am your only future!"

The words ring inside her mind like the clamor of bells, a warning against any thought of breaking free. Of even attempting to seek another path that did not align with his plans. His plans, that only ever brought dissent and terror and pain. Still, she stares at the emptiness of the fabrics at her feet, shallow breaths rattling inside of her chest as her mind recalls that those fabrics once held his form. Sauron's form.

She cannot move. Cannot tear her eyes from the ground. She can barely even breathe, and the walls seem to close in from all sides. Silence surrounds her as all those that had been in the hall from the start take in what has just transpired, though they can hardly believe it to be true. It isn't until she feels the presence of another, moving to stand beside her, that she begins to return to herself, but when a hand rests upon her shoulders, everything within her is suddenly possessed by a desire to wrench herself away.

"Maethoriel—"

"What have you done?"

Muted though it may be, the inquiry lands like a blow upon the person standing beside her. Someone she once trusted, but the one who had now blown apart every last bit of the world she once knew. Her eyes search his face, desperate. Pleading for some sign that this was not, in fact, his plan all along, but she finds nothing. Nothing to indicate her wild hope is warranted. Nothing, save for the vindication of one who has, at long last, achieved a goal.

"What have you done?"

"I have done what was necessary to secure our freedom."

"Freedom," The woman scoffs, another step creating still more distance between herself and the one who stands beside her, something not all that far from pity more than apparent within his gaze, "What you have done is cast us out into the world to live in exile."

"We will survive, Maethoriel."

"As beings who are to be turned away by everyone we meet? As those who would be hunted for crimes that are unforgivable?"

"The true mind behind those crimes is dead."

"And we are the poorer for it!"

Bile rises to the back of the woman's throat as soon as the words are spoken, because even though a part of her believes them, there is another, private part of her mind that wishes with everything she has that she did not. She would be a fool to deny that acting in league with Sauron had brought them nothing but misery. That he had been a terror, holding everything he touched in thrall with an iron fist.

Still, after everything, there had been a sense of—if not belonging, then at least one of temporary respite. They had a home, even if it were not the most desirable.

Hardly able to stand those thoughts as they rise to the forefront of her mind, Maethoriel attempts to rebel against them. She tries with all her might to understand that what her companion has just done was exactly what was needed all along.

Silent, he watches her carefully. An expression that she cannot decipher appears in familiar features, and cuts through her, down to her very bones. Mere moments ago, the two of them had been standing, united, or so she had believed at the time, and now?

Now, it is as though a chasm exists between them. One it seems nothing can bridge.

It was not supposed to end like this.

"I am your only future! And my path, your only path."

The man standing before her had all but destroyed that future with a single blow.

Confusion flares within her as Maethoriel continues to stand rooted to the spot, chest heaving with the effort of continuing to breathe. With the effort of forcing herself to recall every moment of torment—every scar earned—the longer she had remained at Sauron's side. She reminds herself of each day spent hunting. Spent killing. Nights, consumed with another sort of conflict best left unspoken.

Every last one of them in the hall with her had suffered the same, and the prospect of freedom from such pain seemed far too alluring to be real. It was too alluring to be real, given the reality of facing judgment from those who had once flocked to their side.

Men, and elves, and dwarves alike would look upon them with nothing shy of hatred. She knows this as surely as anything else she has seen in her lifetime. But in spite of it, she also knows that she should feel relief that Sauron is gone. She should feel relief that the one who would see them all enslaved will never be able to harm any one of them ever again.

The regret she feels over her inability to genuinely give in to such a thing is nearly enough to bring her to her knees.

"...my path, your only path."

All of the deception—the betrayal at Sauron's hands—and even still, Maethoriel cannot seem to rid herself of the notion that this coup had been folly. That it would serve to do all of them far more harm than good. She cannot help but feel the flames of a dull sort of anger towards the one still standing beside her, and that more than anything else feels like the serrated edge of a knife slicing against her heart.

"What—what am I to do?"

Her voice cracks over the words, and the sting of unshed tears burns at her eyes, forcing Maethoriel to avert her gaze, rather than continuing to look the man beside her in the eye any longer. The idea of facing the betrayal he likely feels over her outburst is simply too much for her to bear.

Already, her heart yearns for forgiveness, though she begins to suspect that is a thing that will not come easily. Not when this apparent victory had been so hard-won. And even when she feels the warmth of fingertips not encased in a gauntlet's cold grip come to rest beneath her chin, turning her face upward once more, Maethoriel hardly dares to breathe.

"I will not force your allegiance, Maethoriel. Not as he did."

The fingers beneath her chin move, for a moment, so that the warm callouses of a familiar palm come to rest against her cheek in their stead, and Maethoriel wants to lean into that touch. She wants to savor that small bit of gentleness, and keep it close, forever.

Before she can make any move at doing so, however, the sensation is gone. Pulled from her at such speed she can hardly reconcile herself with its loss. Again, she averts her gaze, this time to avoid looking directly at the sight of her companion turning to depart. A low chant begins to echo around the hall while she struggles to choose. Stay with the empty raiment resting at her feet, or follow after one who, in spite of recent acts, she has come to love beyond reason.

Her thoughts are an amalgamation of pain, and regret, and confusion, but even then, she does not miss the words spoken to her, and clearly intended to be said in parting, spoken so lowly that even she nearly struggles to hear.

"I cannot choose your path for you. You must do that for yourself."

"I am your only future!"

A sob works its way up Maethoriel's throat whether she wishes it to or not, the sound drowned out amongst the tramp of feet as those who had waited in the rapidly emptying hall move to depart. A singular glance shows her that her companion is now entirely gone from her sight, his tall frame swallowed completely by the throng of those he called his children.

Slowly, she turns to depart as well, though her path leads in the opposite direction from the rest. She steels herself against the pain that winds its way like a vice around her heart.

Knowing that at least one of them would not be alone serves as meager reassurance when compared to the cost of her own choices. The cost of her own inability to free herself from Sauon's hold, even now. Now that he is gone.

The strange sense of grief that she feels over his passing only adds fuel to the fire that is now lending speed to her movements as she makes her way through darkened hallways. As she begins to consider the reality of an eternity spent in the shadows. And even if she knows not where she should go, or how she will spend that eternity now that it is staring her in the face, Maethoriel does know one simple thing.

Of the two of them, she is abundantly grateful that it will be her, and not Adar, that must endure it alone.

[misiahasahardname]

i’m never getting over mikey and pigeon pete

tmnt i need more of them please and thank you!!!

if the image quality looks a bit iffy, the image under the cut may explain why (there’s also a bonus little doodle i really like)

in all honesty i have no idea why i didn’t make this on a separate canvas but fuck it, i like how it turned out

here’s my silly doodle btw. no idea why i chose to draw mikey in that one concept outfit (minus the wig ofc) but just go with it

[leafpool-loves-ashfur]

see my issue is that i literally have an entire Warrior Cats OC universe where the entire purpose is to "give every single character a backstory however small"

and there's already about 500 characters give or take yknow. and like. i already have the stories all plotted out and yet

and yet i keep sitting here and thinking to myself "well but what motivates this character? why are they doing this? what was their story?"

and like YES that's the entire POINT but i NEED TO STOP I CANT KEEP WRITING MORE AND MORE THE *TIMELINE DOCUMENT* IS ALREADY 84 PAGES LONG AND IM STILL IN THE REVERSE (prequel and DOTC-esque) GENERATIONS

[avixthecat]

pictures under the cut

Siffrin

VIVA

Umbra

Arwel

Niko

[reunitedinterlude]

lofi phantasy: the album

track 10: lounging lads