#the flighty bird

[mote-historie]

George Barbier, L'Oiseau Volage (The flighty bird), Modes et manières d’aujourd’hui, 1914.

[notbecauseofvictories]

When I was younger, we had a clock in the garage that would sing bird calls every hour, instead of chiming or ticking or the regular things clocks do. (......I am fairly sure it was exiled to the garage by my mother, who hated the hollow, tinny sound of it.) Anyway, I mostly remember that clock because the mourning dove call was so distinctive---twoo, twoo, too too too, too too too. I can shut my eyes and hear that song, and it taught me to identify it with unerring precision, even though I couldn't pick out another birdcall to save my life.

To this day, mourning doves are one of my favorite birds. and when I caught sight of one perched delicately on my bird feeder I lost my ever loving mind and will take it as a sign of good things to come.

[kedreeva]

arcana 🤝 walnut the crane (may her memory be a blessing): humans are the sexiest birds out there

I took Arcana and Eclipse to my friends' place, with Indie, for the year. Arcana and Eclipse look VERY similar if you don't know what you're looking for. Blackshoulder hens all look almost identical, they're ALL white with brown and black speckles.... you have to look at the tail feather color and overall shade of the speckles to tell color. But they're both purple BS pied, the only difference is that Eclipse is also white eye, but thankfully that means HER tail is white and Arcana's in brown. One of them, I think Arcana, was wearing a legband, idk where Eclipse's went.

But when asked how to tell the difference between them, instead of citing the leg band or the tail feathers, I said, Oh, you'll know. Arcana will be the one propositioning you every day, tripping you by squatting in front of you and generally being a nuisance. Eclipse will be on the far side of the pen going "if you so much as perceive me I will throw myself into this wall to get away from you."

[ifthestarsarewilling]

jackal pixlriffs do you see my vision

[princess-adronitis]

Cuckoo Bird

(And she began to recite my greatest fear) Unintentionally

what if you never find it ? She asked me

What if you flit from thing to thing

Never loving anything?

I bit my tongue and could only nod

I am like a bird I wanted to say

I never had a home anyways

Everything I loved I had no say

In when it gets taken away

Each finger broken to make an open palm

I surrendered up the word “belong”

Every home I had , I was forced to make

Every nest I had, I was forced to take

- Feb 26/24

jm

[mostlybirdsandphotos]

belted kingfisher on some nice morning skies ( ˙꒳​˙ )

[rabbitwarcrimes]

you see a HELPFUL BARTENDER and an ABSENTMINDED SECRETARY out for a night on the town. what atrocities will they commit? probably tax fraud at the very least.

[i23kazu]

Ying im so ready to cause chaos hehehehehe

hehehe. you can be my little birdie on the lookout 👁️👁️

[distant-velleity]

Yeesss romantic (in denial) hugs

If Santiago is uncomfortable, Quinn won't hug him. Just be sure to tell her, she doesn't realise how touchy she is sometime

real

and it’s less that he’s uncomfortable, it’s more… he’s unused to it? both him and chrysos, really

[hibiscuit-rose]

SEGA OWNS ANGRY BIRDS NOW LMAO

[needle-noggins]

ooooooooooomph i am making parallels

[thatswhatsushesaid]

Nie Mingjue + child rearing

all my salt about da-ge aside I have to assume that, however ill-prepared he probably was to suddenly become huaisang's de facto caretaker as a teenager after their father's death (and ??? whatever happened to huaisang's mother), pre-revenge quest huaisang turned out to be... a pretty happy and well-adjusted person? who clearly does not navigate the world expecting abuse from his older brother, or deceit/treachery from his friends. so, I think we can either chalk this up to mingjue being a competent if inexperienced caretaker for huaisang, or to huaisang's inherent strength and resilience as a person. or both!

this may also be a scenario where mingjue's blunt as an axe handle approach to navigating social situations could actually be a net positive, since I imagine him being perfectly comfortable blurting out questions about child rearing that no one else in their right mind would ask in polite company. "yes, yes, grain tariffs, very fascinating. anyway, how often do you buy your son new robes? /scribbling notes to himself ...that often, eh? children grow that fast? huh."

[androgynealienfemme]

"We go from store to store, trying to things on and inspecting them. I give my opinions on dresses and shoes, blouses and lipstick colors. Sometimes I say things that make the other women look at me, agape, as though my mouth has been possessed by that flighty queen from Queer Eye even while the rest of my body still looks like any other big dumb boy's. I say that I like a skirt but I wish it were bias-cut instead of A-line, or that I am not fond of the fashion for surplice tops, or that the post-WWII idiom in shoes this season is amusing but rarely looks good on actual feet, or that I like the look of a bolero jacket. I know the names of colors, heliotrope and coral and Nile blue, and I can say without hesitation whether a lipstick might look better matte with a bit of powder.

These other women look at me with wonder, their boyfriends and husbands having made a fetish out of refusing to learn such words under any circumstances, as though merely pronouncing the word "periwinkle" or "princess seam" could easily turn a strong man gay as a box of birds. They say to her, "That's your husband?" in voices that loiter between admiring and disgusted, as though they know that there's no force on earth that could make their men or boys take such interest in their clothing and they think they might really prefer that to the spectacle of me, filling an armchair, legs crossed ankle over knee, looking just right until I say "tea length."

The point is that she wants other girls to see what it looks like to have a boy so cracy in love with you, as I am, that he will spend an afternoon talking about capri pants to have a boy so delighted by you that he never calls you by your name, but addresses you always as "beautiful girl," or "my love" or occasionally and with great fondness, "boss." To have a boy who will happily fetch your next-size-down and carry your bags and charm the salesclerks at the register without flirting overmuch and just generally try to make himself as useful as possible, all for the dizzy and undying pleasure of making you happy. And even though I am not a boy, I look like one, and so I can be complicit with her in this kind of wonderful afternoon, part indulgence of her great beauty and style, part guerilla feminist activism.

Later, when we walk through the mall or down the sidewalk, me laden with packages that are clearly hers, I watch the eyes of the people we pass: the women who look at me with a certain longing, wishing they had their own boys to carry the bags. The men who look at her with an unmistakable hunger, wishing that they had the honor of schlepping for a girl like her, and then look at me with a certain edge of disbelief, not quite clear about why I get to squire this marvelous example of femininity around when they are clearly wealthier, more handsome, better hung. I have learned to meet all of these gazes with a calm kind of sweetness. There's no point in defensiveness or sheepishness or challenge. I'm the one holding her bags."

"Being a Shopping Switch” Butch is a Noun essays by S. Bear Bergman (2006)

[demonic0angel]

Part 2 of Phantom’s Royal Court (click for clarity)

Introducing Dani and Valerie!

Extra notes:

+ While Danny’s design was created by looking at actual portraits of kings and manhwa men, Valerie’s design was created by looking at portraits of queens and Victorian hunting dresses.

+ Valerie’s entire design is meant to be very practical and very cool. Most of everything is removable or easy to move in for maximum comfort since she is a fighter, examples: the pleated skirt, the loose cape, the detachable skirt. I hope she comes off as badass and spooky.

+ I hope you’re beginning to notice that the Phantom Family will all have skull motifs >:)

+ Dani’s design was the hardest to make because I struggled to find a combination of cool and cute with practicality. In the end, it’s still a little impractical, but it looks cute and cool enough that I’m satisfied.

+ Dani’s hawk motif is given to her because I hc that her special trait in the group is that she’s the fastest of everyone else and she is canonically flighty. Hawks are also birds of prey and are small, but deadly predators. Also, hawk skulls are surprisingly very cute, which I liked.

Part one

Part three

Part four

[dark-elf-writes]

And introducing:

Callum “Rook” Aldwir - mage. Left their incredibly reclusive clan at fourteen with little more than a dagger and directions to the nearest bear cave to “make themself useful and feed something natural” from their keeper and “loving” mother. They stumbled into a small town at the edge of Arlathan forest half starved and scarred from a close encounter with a bear and a malfunctioning artifact but alive. They healed, they learned to master their magic (though they never lost their preference for a knife as a focus over a staff) and eventually they joined the Veil Jumpers. It became a running joke that Callum was part bird, always the first to fly off after a new artifact (though their interest has always skewed more toward the ancient works of art still preserved after so much time than the marvels of magic) or to test a dangerous path high in the trees. They leaned into it, eventually, drawing wings that they had tattooed down their arms so they could forever fly and never be caged again. A promise to themself written in ink. Then came a map. Then came a dwarf. Then came a wolf. Truly the world must be a joke if a disgraced Second turned Veil Jumper with the heart of an artist is the one leading the charge to save it.

!!! I think I just figured out my whole world state surrounding Wren and I’m frothing at the mouth for it.

Working title is “An Exaltation of Heroes” which includes:

Raven Tabris - rogue. Rose from the wreckage of her wedding day with blood on her hands and ash in her throat. Blood and ash follow her whenever she goes. The joining. The fall of Ostagar. Lothering. Blood and ash and agony are all she knows. Until she meets a Nightingale who sings where she can only croak. Who speaks of hope and the loving hand of the Maker guiding them. Who holds her cheeks so gently and tastes like wine and sunlight. She ruins that Nightingale somewhere in the twisting streets of Denerim, turns her lover as cold and hollow as she is. Pours blood and ash down her throat until that is all that remains. She wishes she had died killing the archdemon if only to spare her Leliana this continuing pain.

Lark Hawke - mage. They left Lothering with the echo of their sister’s bones cracking in their ears, and tried to hold onto some semblance of normal with ragged fingernails and endless chatter and quips that doesn’t quite hide the circles under their eyes or the house that gets more and more empty with each year. They handed their heart to a man they thought they could trust only for it to be ripped to pieces when the chantry exploded. He was never going to choose them. They should have seen it coming. He tells them they look beautiful before they drive the knife into his heart, his little songbird. (Still they chatter, still they sing, still they fight for this new world he would have loved to see… even if it tears them apart.)

Wren Lavellan - mage. Found half dead by Clan Lavellan when they were a child with strange vallaslin carved hatefully into their face so deeply it scarred. A sacrifice to gods who had long since abandoned them. A wolf among sheep according to their keeper as he raised the blade over their heart. The only survivor once their original clan turned on the ones come to save them. Every night they dream of wolves. Of one wolf. With tar dripping from its mouth and many eyes shut in slumber. Until one day the wolf is no longer sleeping. Until they leave to protect the clan that had once protected them and was once again the only survivor. A herald for another god they didn’t believe in. A stray bird locked in a cage of light and forced to chant instead of sing.

[moonstruckme]

May I please please with sprinkles and a cherry on top request, more protective! Sirius with reader who gets scared or startled easily?(maybe a hufflepuff reader?) Like I'm scaredy cat, I just want him to make the scary go away! Literally anything your beautiful brain thinks up will be amazing as always

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 635 words

Sometimes walking at night can’t be avoided, but you don’t love it. Every shadow, every passerby who drifts too close, every bird taking off from a nearby perch, makes your heart race and the hairs on your neck and arms stick straight up like an army of useless soldiers standing at attention. A few blocks ago someone had swung open a gate, and you’d jumped into the street. 

You’re telling yourself you’re already halfway home, only a small ways to go, when—

“Stop there!”

Your entire body seizes up, and before you know what you’re doing you’ve hopped around on the spot, turning to face the threat with your hands held out in front of you as if to shove them away. 

Sirius only continues walking toward you from a good few meters down the sidewalk, one dark eyebrow raising amusedly. 

“Well, I was going to tell you off for walking by yourself at night,” he says, “but with reflexes like those it’s clear I’ve wasted my time. You’ve got it handled.” 

“Oh my god.” You cross the distance to him, giving your boyfriend a very heartfelt and somewhat desperate hug. “Don’t scare me like that!” 

Sirius bands an arm across your shoulders and palms the back of your head. He strokes your hair comfortingly. “See, that wouldn’t ordinarily be such an insane request, but I’ve found with you it’s actually quite difficult to avoid.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head, his teasing inlaid with fondness. “What do you think you’re doing walking around by yourself in the dark, hm?” 

You get the sense you’ve saved yourself from a much sterner tongue lashing by your fright at his arrival. You push this small advantage, pressing snugly to Sirius’ front and looking up at him with your best bambi eyes. “I’m just trying to get home,” you say. Your boyfriend looks like he knows what you’re about, but he smooths the baby hairs at your temple consolingly anyway. “Dinner at Marie’s ran long, and I didn’t want to spend money on a cab fare or anything like that.” 

“That’s what I’m for, darling.” Sirius squints his eyes at you. They glint in the low light, more playful than mean. “You’re supposed to call me when these things happen, not try your luck and hope for the best. Understand?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” You relent easily, more than happy to have him as an escort and as exceptional company. Sirius lets you go, starting in the direction of your place. “How’d you know I was here anyway?” 

“Saw you from inside the takeaway place a couple blocks back.” He casts a glance your way, mouth kicking up at one corner. “You looked like someone’s pet rabbit that had gotten loose. You’re definitely going to attract the wrong sort if you’re walking around looking all scared like that.” 

You laugh. “I don’t think I could have looked that bad.” 

“Oh, you’ve never looked bad. Just a tad flighty.” 

Sirius sets a sure hand on the small of your back and grins when you jolt. You loose a breath, shaking your head at yourself as a dizzy little giggle spurts out of you. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Who else was it going to be, sweetness?” he teases, sliding that hand to your waist and using it to tug you closer, into a rough sort of half hug. “You need to ease up. I’ve got you.” 

You lean into his side, doing an exceptionally poor job of feigning any reluctance. “And what’s going to stop someone from mugging the both of us?” 

“Oh, I’m not worried about that at all.” Sirius gives your waist an affectionate squeeze. “You’re quick as anything, baby. If someone comes for us, I know you’ll be out of here before I can even turn around.”