#in conclusion: go birds

[brostateexam]

Insomuch as I have a team, it's still the Eagles, so I didn't really care about the outcome here. I will say that it's very Eagles-coded of the Niners to get 99% of the way there and then just kind of beef it at the last second, and seeing that be the outcome made me weirdly homesick. But mostly it's whatever.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji might be an unstoppable force, but Xie Lian has 800+ years of practice of being an immovable object.

(poll results here for context)

[haunted-xander]

Song of Oblivion

[thegreatyin]

y'know, it probably feels weird for the scoundrel to admit, but they feel surprisingly comforted to be back on their ship for a change. they finally have control of the situation, they're finally around people they (vaguely) trust, they- wait a minute hold on what was that line

oh

oh no

oh no the horrors just keep getting worse and worse for them

[kedreeva]

Do you know things about peacock pheasants that you could share? (Any variety, I think they’re super cool and would love to keep some someday maybe)

I do not know very much about peacock pheasants, since I've never kept nor wanted to keep them, but I know that they are a very uncommon, expensive, difficult-to-keep pheasant regardless of which species. I have a friend that keeps a pair, or was keeping a pair of palawans (I think she lost the hen this winter), and even though she keeps peafowl and a few other types of fowl, and has kept himalayan monals before even, these were worse. My understanding is that they need a lot of space, and are delicate, wild birds.

Unless you have a lot of experience keeping pheasants in general, I'd pick a different, hardier breed that is a bit cheaper, like some mutant ringnecks or even varieties of golden pheasant. They're both sought after for pelts and/or meat, and pretty widely available. Even silver or amhearst are easier finds, easier to keep alive, and cheaper to acquire than peacock pheasants (and I mean like, there's a COUPLE of peacock pheasant breeders in the entire US and babies are HUNDREDS of dollars and you'll be on a waitlist, vs if you have $5-20 and are willing to lose sleep for a night you can go get a ringneck or a golden pheasant morph from a bird swap or livestock auction basically every weekend in the summer here) and less of a loss to the community of keepers as a whole if you make mistakes and lose a bird. Obviously no one wants to lose any bird, but the impact to the breeding pool for peacock pheasants is so much greater a loss than it would be for the others, it's just not worth the risk to try to start there, both for you and for the birds.

[cyanopicas]

pondering an ultrakill gahoole au

[haunted-doodles]

"Well, Bad Luck."

[fr fr? Click for better quality.]

Was wondering what would happen if each of the Riptide pirates didn't end up getting what they wanted in life, or rather, finding eachother.

After Jay refusing to join his crew, Chip continued island hopping about. His ship wouldn't have exploded and thus Chip would have never visited Loffinlot, nor do I think alone he'd of been able to get up and go gambling. Eventually though upon travelling to Noctis, he fell victim to Grimm at the ball. Without anyone there who'd be able to save him, Chip was thoroughly charmed and became a vampire. Eventually he breaks out of the trance and books it out of a window, yet the damage has been done. The only real connection he'd been able to make was with Rebecca and thus he mourns her a fair lot more than he did in canon in this. He's still searching the seas for Arlin, to recreate the black rose in his own image. Grimm's corruption lays heavy in his mind though as he starts to plan with Lizzie on how they can win the war.

Jay continued on with her Navy training alongside Kira, the two becoming a recogniseable force. After the death sister, The weight and preassure from her family to help in the cause of ending the age of pirates is far stronger than before and her drive alongside it began to falter. Yet still she remains persistent in her studies, in her commanding of her crew. She begins to fall in love with Kira as they grow older together and they get engaged. Of course, the most preassure to end the war comes from her father, who is overbearingly watching over her shoulder almost every second. Life in the Navy for Jay is awful. Sometimes she wonders what it would've been like if she accepted that scruffy boy's hand all those years ago. Other times she wants to just get everything over with.

Gillion, instead of being shunned for his act of killing the Navy Officer, was actually praised highly as the perfect soldier he was. Because of this, he was driven further and further into his path as the chosen one and his mind is broken deeper and deeper into the depths of what the elders desired. He grows spiteful and hates anyone who does not bare undersea blood, even to the point of snapping and lashing out at others. He begins to learn about the oversea for when he must travel land to fufill his prophecy. Begins to prepare. Eventually, he is sent overseas as their perfect soldier, who always write home to the undersea on his findings. Who travels island to island, slaughtering the awful creatures that have caused his people so much pain.

He will be the one who swallows the land whole. It is his destiny.

[smol-soop-spoon]

Im stranded at my friend's place in a big city and now I know why everyone looks so dead inside. These kind of places just suck the soul right out of you.

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

i'm back fromthe mountains and in human civilization and i. i cannot deal with it. i cannot fucking deal with it what the fucj

[ladsofsorrow24]

the latest chapter

[suatual]

the dreamy atmosphere of that pic in the cb schedule vs the toxic spill of a colour on the limited edition and the jagged edges of the new logo hmmmmmm

[isaacathom]

like, in the alternate timeline, in the 48hrs of the arc so far, Naielle Odelia:

had two separate valuators come to her aunt's house to participate in the seizure of assets for the war effort

knew without a shadow of a doubt that her aunt started a fire in order to avoid her art being taken

was arrested/requisitioned/? by the Deputy Undersecretary of a country she swears no allegiance to

was, without any say in the matter, read into a consultancy position at a government blacksite under the War Act

was told that her new boss had 'killed two people' for the information Naielle gave her

had a split second vision of stabbing the Undersecretary(?) through the chest and watching the life leave his eyes

tried to pray to her patron and recieved a garbled mess

as a result of the last two, was categorically unable to sleep that night

was made to reveal her vision and attempted communion to her boss via mind reading

contacted her patron via a limited astral projection and learned that the timeline fuckery had bound him to a 'wound in the world' that is killing him, and watched him drip black ichor into the dark astral sea

was told that, if she cannot destroy the 'anchor' that binds this false reality, she may need to sever the bond of her kin

begged her boss not to tell the Undersecretary about the vision of his murder, to which she was PROMISED she would not. (She ended up showing him the vision via Detect Thoughts, so striclty she didnt lie)

was FRIGHTFULLY intimidated by the furious Undersecretary and interrogated about her vision and what she knew of 'true' reality

was told she was part of a destined group to fix reality (and cried about it)

has been roped into a plan to lowkey commit treason against the country shes in, in order to follow a lead on the anchor

went to apologise to the Undersecretary about the alt-reality murder and was subsequently made to stab him in the chest with a jewelled dagger, recieving her fucked up sword from the bargain

went home to arrange her affairs only to learn one of the valuators has kidnapped her aunt and held her cousin hostage

stabbed a man in defence of her cousin

AAAAAAA

has resolved to fucking kill the valuator for fucking with her family, showing the first ounce of backbone in this entire arc

helped heal the dreadfully injured wife of her boss, while having the strangest sense that she not only knows her, but has been mercilessly flirted with by her

doesn't know this, but more than likely her Sister is on her way here to destroy the world or something

will probably have to kill her sister about it

[rainy-day-wizard]

It's angsty as fuck but i can't get the song "That's not how the story goes" (from a series of unfortunate events) out of my head. i don't like to be sad or angsty but it really do be feelin like that sometimes

[homunculus-argument]

Just read about the study that looked into the connection between the sound resonance of human-marked caves and the location of cave paintings. They discovered that the cave paintings were most commonly located in the areas with the clearest resonance, the best acoustics. The ideal places to sing. Scientist are bound by a duty to commit to facts, to stick with what is known and can be known. They aren't allowed to just wildly speculate, jump to conclusions, or romanticise the connections they make. But I am not a man of science and I can say whatever I want.

We called them "cavemen" at first, when we knew even less of them than what we do now. They were hunter-gatherers, nomadic people who wouldn't have stayed in one place for long, not even a place as good as a cave. A cave is a maw full of blackness, cold and dark, unless you bring fire. They brought fire with them, that we know. They painted the walls in light of torches, beasts that appear to move in the flickering light. They painted the walls in places where one could best sing.

A cave is a place of darkness, unless you bring fire. And quiet - perhaps save for the bats - unless you bring your voice. What did they sing about? The same songs every year, that one sings that time of year When We Return To The Cave, or new ones made up on the spot? Were they sacred? They must have been. One does not go into an unfamiliar cave alone, there are too many ways you may die. You go together, someone shows it to you. Brings you to the paintings to sing. To sing in the dark underworld that looks nothing like the world above, and where even the weakest voices carry, amplifying like nowhere else in the world that they knew.

Is that what we still yearn for? To go with your kin to the hollow halls of sacred places, where the echo compels you to reverent silence, until it's time to sing? To hear the familiar tune, amplified by the echos of stone, urged to join the song just as wolves are called to join the howl? Our urge just as natural as theirs, like migrating birds yearn to leave and return?

Why else do we have churches, but for our yearning to sing in the caves?

[foldingfittedsheets]

At this point in our relationship my betrothed is well versed in my compulsive need to help animals. It wasn’t part of their upbringing but it was a huge part of mine. So now whether it’s lost dogs or injured birds they know that for me it’s not a matter of convenience, it’s just the only possible option.

My most notable rescue took place during one of the least opportune times. We were watching a friends boxer puppy, Bella. The dog was dumber than a box of rocks and I took deep offense that at six months old she still didn’t know her own name. My betrothed and I were working with her on that as well as leash manners, so we walked her frequently.

On our way home from a walk I looked across the street and saw a cat. My betrothed didn’t need to ask, it was simply a given that faced with a cat I’d go say hello, so they waited with Bella as I crossed the road.

As I approached the cat several things caught my attention. The first was that he wasn’t wearing a collar. The second was that his coat was greasy and disheveled- this was not a cat that was thriving if he didn’t have energy to groom. The third thing was that he was way too skinny, with bones jutting out from his shabby coat.

The fourth thing I noticed was that this cat was a purebred Bengal.

Now, I understand that it’s suspect to identify cats as bengals. Many people see tabbies and call them bengals. But as a teenager I became obsessed with these cats and went on a hyper obsessive deep dive. I spent hours reading about them, looking at pictures, and dreaming about Bengal cats.

The cat in front of me had unmistakable rosettes, the narrow frame, piercing eyes, and from a very rough estimation probably cost thousands of dollars. There was no world in which he should be wandering my neighborhood with no collar and his ribs jutting out.

Which all led me to one conclusion. He was lost.

The second I realized that it was over. It wasn’t a matter of thinking the situation through it was a simple conclusion: he was lost so I would help him by any means necessary.

This sweet cat showed he was friendly and trotted right over to greet me. I pet him and tentatively went for a lift. He did not care for that. Suddenly we were tussling, and it was instantly clear to me that he was going to stay lost if I couldn’t restrain him, so we pitted all our wiles against each other and at one point I had him agonizingly by just a toe but I refused to let go and finally I had him in my arms, one hand scruffing him and the other supporting his weight.

That’s when I noticed a couple things. There was blood dripping down my elbow. Across the street Bella was going crazy barking and pulling toward me and the cat. And my betrothed was giving me an agonized look.

Without a word they started power walking Bella back to our house. I followed at a slower pace, keeping my grip on this poor lost cat.

It was a warm summer afternoon and several neighbors were out chatting. They saw the circus parade of my betrothed dragging a yelping puppy and me following holding a screaming cat.

Oh yeah. So I forgot to mention. Bengals are not normal cats. They’re bred back with a wild cat and their vocalizations are on a completely different level. The cat in my arms wasn’t meowing or yowling. Instead he was making one long continuous eldritch wailing, oscillating in rage and distress.

My neighbors saw this, me, stonefaced carrying a cat who was casting evil spells with his voice, blood dripping down my arm, while a puppy frantically fought my betrothed to reach us, and they laughed.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended that no one offered any assistance, but it was fine. I knew I could count on my betrothed. I slowed my steps slightly again when I saw my betrothed round our corner. I knew they would kennel the puppy and bring a cat crate for me.

Sure enough, I rounded the corner and they had our door open, crate at the ready. I popped the Bengal into the carrier and we shut him into the bathroom.

Then I looked at my shaking, bloody hand. He’s scraped his back claws up me and it wasn’t deep but I was bleeding heavily. Then I looked at my betrothed and started to cry.

They held me while I had a panic attack and helped me thoroughly peroxide my cuts.

“That was so brave, weren’t you scared to grab him?” they asked me.

Truly, no. I think to be brave or scared you need to actually conceptualize what you’re doing and I hadn’t. I saw a cat that needed help, and then there wasn’t options, I just acted.

They asked what my plan was and I didn’t have one. Where would we put him, in a home with three other cats and a puppy? I don’t know. I just grabbed him.

We ended up calling a friend who’s special interest is dog rescue. She brought her chip reader and a huge dog crate we could keep him in overnight with a disposable little box, food, and water.

He’d been summoning demons behind the bathroom door the whole time, making sounds previously confined to various netherworlds but she bravely uncaged him to read if he had a chip. No, to my surprise. It also turned out he was a love machine despite the ghastly sounds.

We loved on him and gave him small portions of food every fifteen minutes so he didn’t eat himself sick.

The next day we brought him to the local pet rescue, after I called ahead to warn them I was bringing in a Bengal. The lady had a very blasé attitude about this claim, clearly used to people claiming every lost tabby was a rare cat breed.

When she pulled him out of the crate she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it is a Bengal!”

“That’s what I promised. One whole ass Bengal.”

We said our goodbyes to the sweet man, and the posted him on the website as a found pet. He was picked up by his family two days later. I’ll never know how he escaped but I’m certain his family was so grateful to have him returned.

[ohmerricat]

inspired by fifteen trying to say shit and getting censored by the nanny filter, here’s a complete table of every doctors who and whether or not they use strong language

1 - no

2 - yeah

3 - rarely, but accurately and directly, in a dignified and sarcastic fashion

4 - ABSOLUTELY all the time. the tardis filter barely copes. we’ve all seen the K-9 clip, that’s what the character sounds like without the kids show censorship

5 - no. does he look like a man who swears to you? maybe some esoteric combination of words like fuckadoodle shitnozzles

6 - yes. duh

7 - he doesn’t enjoy it, but occasionally, sparingly, when the situation calls for it

8 - definitely . not too frequently, though. for emphasis, or for a laugh

9 - that man is a working class northerner from the 2000s and a jaded war veteran. draw your own conclusions. he knows elaborate insults you’ve never heard of

10 - cheeky little ‘fuck’ here and there with rose & martha, ALL THE TIME with donna, and swearing like hell when he starts going off the rails in the s4 specials

11 - lol no. well… he’s got an example to set to the companions that he treats like children. he’s a storybook character and he wants to be perceived as an imaginary friend, a kind almost victorian whimsical gentleman in a bowtie, and a person like that wouldn’t use crude language. with river song though? now THAT’S a whole other story

12 - the scene in dark water with the psychic paper tells us everything we need to know. twelve in series 8 was straight up pg13ified malcolm tucker. shuttity-up-up-up without the tardis filter sounds like fuckity-bye. he swears liberally, frequently, unsparingly and unceremoniously, at everyone without distinction, including clara’s students at coal hill. personally i think that’s one hell! of a fucking! bird!

13 - no. she’s all famalam hipster mum cringy kindergarten teacher. it doesn’t fit her ~vibe~. the master makes fun of this trait in the timeless children when he’s goading her about her superiority complex. says it’s such a step down from her previous self, at least that one was honest about his emotions

fugitive - she gives no fucks and takes no shit

14 - yes from time to time, like a normal human being would, nothing excessive. donna does bring it out in him though. his mouthy side

15 - this guy says cunt and serves it