open beak

In the first photo, Jasmine was busy being interesting in and exploring the laundry basket, and he didn’t want to get a head scratch from me just then. Therefore, he communicated that clearly to me by pulling his crest and body feathers back, opening his beak, and taking a few warning swipes at my approaching finger.

In the second photo, Piper was already looking at me and sitting at her perch with feathers puffed, showing that she was calm and open to possible head rubs.

Parrots have times when they are up for cuddles, and times when they don’t feel like it at all. Some birds like cuddling more than others. Some birds may never prefer to cuddle or be touched at all.

No matter which type, please respect your bird’s individual personality and needs. Put yourself into their (adorable dinosaur) feet, and look at the situation from his or her perspective. Try your best to read his or her body language, to understand what your bird is trying to tell you, and he or she will appreciate and trust you even more for it.

Avian Art Refs

I frequently see my posts reblogged with the tag #art ref so I just wanted to quickly make this post to say that if you’re looking for bird reference images I have a load of tags for specific activities, body parts, and angles which may make looking for refs a bit easier for some of you!

Body Language:

aggression - aggressive body language, videos, etc.

comfort  /  happy - comfortable body language

fear - fearful body language

Body Parts:

beak - closeups, weird positions, screaming, yawning, climbing etc.

cere - their nose, nosehairs

eye - visible eye colour, eye closeups, eyelashes

feathers - moulted feathers, feather closeups

feet   /    foot   -  feet closeups, preening feet, perching, flying etc.

fluffenchops - those puffy feathers on either side of the beak

rectrices - tail feathers, moulted feathers closeups

remiges - wing flight feathers, moulted feathers, closeups

rump - the spot right above their tail, closeups, etc.

tongue - open beaks showing tongues, tongue closeups

wing   /   wings   -  wing closeups, in weird positions, closed, part open, etc.


bathing - bathing in tubs, this also has other categories

  • bathing video - footage of them bathing
  • wet - after bathing, wet feathers, funny feather-dos

beak grinding - videos and pictures, behaviour happens when they’re sleepy

climbing - usually in motion, reaching, stretching a leg out, etc.

eating - seeds, fruits, beak closeups, etc.

flying - birds flying in all angles/ positions, this breaks up in to several other categories:

  • front view - flying at the camera/ front of the body is visible
  • back view - flying away from camera/ back is visible
  • side view - mostly the side of the bird is visible
  • flying video - if you’re looking for the mechanics of flight this might help (although they are SUPER speedy)

foraging - solving puzzles, sticking their heads in containers

hanging - by their beaks, feet, one leg, etc.

playing - grabbing objects, climbing, etc.

preening - cleaning their feathers, feet, and one another, sometimes close-up

sleeping - head tucked, closed eyes, videos, etc.

stretching - leg and wing stretches

yawning - open beaks, yawning

I think that’s all of them, and of course if there’s ever an image you need that you just can’t find feel free to ask, odds are that I either have that image somewhere or I can easily snap a new one for you! 

Anyways I hope this helps someone, have a blast and art-away!


The picture on the left is when Luigi first came to me, the picture on the right is the most recent one I’ve taken of him.

The first picture was taken 10th January
The second was taken this Thursday

When he first came to me, I had no idea how to look after a dove. I didn’t plan on having him. I didn’t get him from a rescue. One day my uncle came to the door and said he had an injured baby dove that had smashed into the window of the pub he’d been at. I was the only one who he thought would take it. We think that when he hit the window it had been his first time trying to fly, he didn’t try to fly again until about two months after I’d had him.

His beak was so badly injured that he couldn’t open it to eat. I fed him by adding water to oats, sucking it up in a straw, opening his beak and blowing it down his throat. I don’t know if it was the best way but it was the only way I knew.

He would spend his days out in the house with me, he loved sitting on my head while I watched tv. At night he slept in a big black box, the only thing I had to put him in.

I loved him from the moment I opened the box and I love him even more now. I’ve had to fight my family to keep him, they said that I was ‘a cruel and horrible’ person for keeping a 'wild animal’. Luigi is not wild and he never was. He’s a dove, most species of dove are not wild. He is a garden fantail, they are not wild. He was used to humans the moment he came to us, he may have come from a dove cote. We shall never know. I’ve even had people say they’d call the police on me if I didn’t release him into the wild. I’m glad I stood my ground and didn’t give in. I’m glad that I kept him. I’m glad that I never gave up on him.

He now has all his feathers and spends most of his time outside in the aviary. Oh and yes, yes he still gets bedtime stories.

I want to say thank you to @ramseyringnecks for teaching me so much about pigeons and doves. I was lost on how to care for him until I found your blog. I also want to say thank you to the rest of birblr, it’s a wonderful community and I’m very proud to be part of it.


The Robbins and Lawrence Pepperbox Pistol,

Robbins & Lawrence was a large mid 19th century arms manufacturer based in Windsor Vermont that specialized in producing muskets for the US Army.  In 1851 company head Richard Lawrence decided to enter the civilian market, in particular with the production of pepperbox pistols.  The design was invented by George Leonard, foreman of the Robbins & Lawrence factory.  While being a pepperbox the Robbins & Lawrence still had a lot of really neat features that were quite ahead of its time. A five shot pistol, it featured a hammerless design, the hammer being completely inside the frame.  Whereas almost all pepperbox pistols of the day had revolving barrels which were typically hand turned, the Robbins & Lawrence featured fixed barrels.  Each barrel was loaded by hand with gunpowder and a bullet (they were produced in .28 and .31 caliber).  The pistol broke open much like a beak top revolver, revealing nipples upon which to place percussion caps. This protected the caps from moisture and the elements, decreasing the chance of a misfire.

Inside the frame was a rotating hammer, which would rotate to the next chamber each time it was cocked. The pistol featured two triggers.  The larger ring trigger was used to cock the pistol, the smaller forward trigger fired it.  On the rear of the grip is a decocking button, an interesting feature that wouldn’t common until the 20th century with semi automatic pistols.

Production of the Robbins & Lawrence pepperbox began in 1851, but would quickly cease in 1854 with barely 3 years of production. The invention of the Colt revolver made pepperbox pistols obsolete, and their popularity quickly began to wane. Around 7,000 Robbins & Lawrence pepperbox pistols were manufactured.

I am official a surrogate momma hen ! … Until tomorrow.

My cat almost ate a baby blackbird. We saved it and failed to find the nest where it belongs (plus found the corspe of other babies blackbird of the approx same age we though” mmmh no”)
The baby isn’t too young, he has his eyes open but clearly cannot fly yet!
I contacted a pro, we’ll give it to him tomorrow (he’s not living too far away but neither my mom or sister wanted to take their car :/)

Until then I’ll take care of the little guy!
He’s in a shoebox, lid have been perced for air and he has a big comfy nest made of grass~
He ate (raw steak and some crispbread dipped in milk - under the advice of the guy - giving it with a tweezer) and now he’s sleeping peacefully.
The guy told me that as long as he was asking for food (like baby bird does, opening their beak super wide) he’ll have good chance to survive ! He’s so cute, he peeping like a toy when i gave him food !
I’ll check back on him in like an hour or so, see if he eat again… I forgot to ask when I should give him food per hour :/
If anyone know, I’m listening !

Oh and of course my cat isn’t welcome in my computer room until tomorrow!

hold my hand and we can run for one year
while we laugh to the clouds and the birds
who soar above, beaks open in song

we will run through forest and brook
feet trampling across the grass in haste
rushing towards a goal we imagined

and at the end of the year I will let go
of your hand, and you will cry
as I run through the grass alone

and your feet take you home
—  Miriam K, just one year
Amour ~ Newt Scamander x Reader

Originally posted by the-kaider-chronicles

Originally posted by hharrypotterrforever

Requested:  hi! could you do an imagine where the reader is from beauxbatons and she meets newt and he really likes her because she’s pretty and very soft and natural and calm?

Remember to request Ships, Imagines, Preferences, and Storylines!!!

(English translation in italics & bold)

Sun high in the sky, shining over the small wizard village in France in which you’ve lived your whole life. You journey down the cobblestone streets excited to start your summer holiday. That is until a florescent pink bird swoops out of no where and lands on your head. It flutters around not making a single sound. Carefully you cup the small bird in your hands, bringing it down from on top of your head. It gives a mute chirp of gratitude. The small pink bird perks up to gaze at you. 

“Pourquoi bonjour petit gars. (Why hello little guy.)”, you beam.

As the bird gives another silent chirp a young man comes rushing down the street, apologizing every few minutes to whomever he had run into. He skids to a stop when he reaches you and gives a worried look. 

He is rather tall and thin, with reddish brown hair, and dazzling blue eyes. He wears a white button up shirt with a green sweater-vest and tie. In one hand his wand. In the other hand he holds a case by its handle.

“I’m so sorry miss. My bird it-” He stops his babbling to get a good look at you.

“Salut, mon nom est Y/n L/n, et tu est? (Hi, my name’s Y/n L/n, and you are)?”, You hold out your free hand to shake.

“Newt Scamander.” Newt shakes your hand,”Je suis terriblement désolé pour mon oiseau. Il est un artiste d'évasion. (I’m terribly sorry about my bird. He’s an escape artist.)

He places his wand in his pocket and sets the case down onto the ground. Newt gently takes the bird, cradling it in his large hands. The bird gives another silent twitter before curling up into a small feathery ball.

“Tu parle français? Êtes-vous de la région? (You speak french? Are you from here?)” You question.

Newt gives a lopsided grin and responds, “Oh non, je suis anglais. J'étudie ici. (Oh no, I’m English. I’m studying here.)

Vous assistez à Beauxbatons? (Then you attend Beauxbatons?)

“Non, j'ai été expulsé de Hogwarts. (No, I was expelled from Hogwarts.)” Newt explains.

“Ah, je vois. (Ah, I see.)” You smile at the casual way he had said this,”Voulez-vous prendre un café avec moi? (Would you want to get some coffee with me?)

“Sans doute. (Of course.)” Newt beams at the offer.

He picks up his case and lightly places the now awake bird on his shoulder. 

You grin as the small bird hops to and fro across the table. It’s beak opens and closes yet not a single sound comes out.

“Quel genre d'oiseau est-ce? Je n'ai jamais vu un comme ça. (What kind of bird is this? I never saw one like that.)

Newt gazes at you with a sense of interest,”Robert est un Fwooper. Il est originaire d'Afrique. Fwoopers sont vendus avec un charme silencieux mis sur eux parce que leur chanson twittering conduira l'auditeur fou. Le charme doit être renouvelé chaque mois. (Robert is a Fwooper. He is originally from Africa. Fwoopers are sold with a silencing charm placed of them because their twittering drives the listener insane. The charm has to be renewed every month.)

“Intéressant. (Interesting)

Newt lightly strokes the Fwooper. You take a second to study the foreigner’s simple yet entrancing features. Freckles scatter across his kind face. his eyes sparkle as he speaks of his adventures.

“Quelque chose ne va pas? (Is there something wrong?)” Newt asks.

You awake from your trance to see Newt shyly looking at you. Robert seemed to of found a nice napping place on your hand. 

“Non non, j'ai été… distrait. (No no, I was just… distracted.)

“Ah, je vois… (Ah, I see...)” Newt smiles. He looks at the table and plays with the hem of his shirt.

“Si vous ne vous dérangez pas de le dire, je pense que vous êtes absolument magnifique. (If you don’t mind me saying so, I think you’re absolutely beautiful.)

You blush at the rather random compliment. Newt glances up for a moment, scared that he’d said the wrong thing. 

“Désolé … c'était un peu hors de nulle part. (Sorry… that was a bit out of nowhere.)” 

“Non c'est d'accord. (No it’s alright.)” You grin leaning across the table,”En fait, si ça ne te dérange pas, je t'embrasserai. (In fact, if you don’t mind me doing so, I’m going to kiss you.)

With that you lean in and peck Newt on the lips, sitting back into chair and smiling at his dumbfound face. Newt smiles at you and takes a timid drink of his coffee. The both of you then sit together in silence, smiling and enjoying the beautiful sunny day.

too busy lying to myself (to see your color)

Sort of based on the prompt: You get an ‘impression’ of your soulmate when you turn 18 or something but all I got was a strong smell of bananas or an overwhelming feeling that Thatcher was a good prime minister or an image in my mind of a fucking unicorn.

In a world where you get an impression of your soulmate at a certain age, Trini tries to navigate life and what it means that she saw a pink pterodactyl flying through the sky for her impression.

AO3 - Link

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anonymous asked:

botw zelink request! :) link attempts to draw zelda

I have not finished BOTW nor have I freed all the Divine beasts. This is also the first BOTW fanfic I’ve ever written! 

It was all Revali’s fault.

If you asked the Rito he would have denied everything, the smug bird. But Link was certain the cause of his incredible embarrassment was all thanks to Revali.

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Tell me about the one who loved him - A Sirius Black Imagine (part five)

Originally posted by just-be-magnificent

Hello! This is part five of Tell me about the one who loved him, but this is also a flashback, I guess to understand a little more what is going to happen, next, if I’m not ending this series. 

Part II, Part III and Part IV


October 31st, 1981

There was this strange feeling in his gut. Something bothered him but he couldn’t tell what it was. That was just an impression, like something strangely bad was going to happen. Sirius looked outside the window, it was a dull night, Halloween, where kids were trick or treating with their parents, disguised into vampires, witches and animals, all sorts of curious things. Sirius scoffed. If only they knew. He wished he could have spent this night with his godson. But James’ son was safe, at home, with his two loving parents. It reassured Sirius. He thought about Y/N. Usually, Saturdays were their night together. They’d be wandering in London’s street, they’d grab a bite, laugh louder than they should, annoying everybody with their love. But dark were the days and dangerous was this time. He really wished to be with her that very moment, hiding into her dark locks as she’d play with his hair. Feeling her chest rise while she was breathing, making sure she was really there. He never really knew what good he did in his young life to deserve somebody like Y/N. He knew she was safe with her parents. He wished Moony was there, but they were not talking anymore. Sirius wasn’t sure where Remus’ loyalty laid nowadays. He didn’t trust him and it was hurting. If they could only stop Voldemort once and for all, if they could just only carry on with their lives… But no such thing was certain. They were at war. Gone were the days when they were just arrogant teenagers, when the only thing that they’d worry about was the next Quidditch match or the upcoming exams. Where James’ biggest interest was into fancying the gorgeous girl that was Lily Evans. When the darkest time was when they’d have to spend a full moon night to protect Remus from himself. Sirius sat on the couch and sighed. He didn’t know what to do. Getting out was dangerous, Dumbledore had forbidden anyone to go out and wander if not necessary. But he had to do something, he thought, he felt like he must go. He couldn’t just sit and wait anymore. After some annoying and worrying thoughts, he finally fell asleep, completely dressed, in a very, very uncomfortable position.

A loud crack woke him up by surprise. He jumped on his feet.
‘Y/N?’ he asked.
But she wasn’t there. Instead, outside the window, was an owl holding a parchment in its beak. Sirius opened the window and took the letter in his trembling hands. He started carefully reading it.
‘There has been an attack at Godric’s Hollow…’ 
He let the letter fall on the floor, his vision started to blur. He grabbed his leather jacket and helmet and got out of his flat, running. His heart was beating louder and faster in his chest. He took his motorcycle and started the motor with a roaring sound. 

While he was on his way to James’ house, all he thought was he hoped they’d be fine. James was a powerful wizard; there was no way he was in danger. Lily and Harry would be okay.
‘Come on!’ grinned Sirius, already driving the fastest he could. ‘COME ON!’ 

He finally pushed on a curious button alongside the handlebar and the engine flew in the air. This was the fastest way to get into the small village where the little family lived. It seemed like he flew in the air forever as he reached Godric’s Hollow’s sky. Up there, he knew he’d find James, Lily and Harry, surrounded and protected by the Order and the Ministry. 

‘You didn’t need to run to us like a dog, Padfoot! See, we’re okay! It was just a scare’ would say James to him, patting him on the shoulders. They would be laughing. Sirius wouldn’t admit to James that he had the fear of his life, but his best friend would know it anyway. 

He finally touched down the ground and reached the street corner. As soon as he stopped the motor, he knew something was going on, he thought. There was an oddly radiating light coming out of the Potters’ house.
Then he saw it. There was no cottage anymore, not like he knew it. Blown up wood was all around, laying and shredded on the ground, some walls were not there anymore. Sirius felt like he wanted to run into to the house at once but he feared what he was going to discover inside. It’s like if an invisible hand was pulling him from behind. He could not believe something like that happened. James was supposed to be fine. Finally, he stepped on what was left of the porch and entered the house, shaking nervously. He felt like he watched himself from outside his own body. Everything felt so silent. As he turned around the living room, he looked down at the body down the staircase. His worst nightmare was now reality. It was a pure vision of horror he would never be able to forget. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t happening.
‘James?’ whispered Sirius, like his friend was asleep and he didn’t want to scare him by waking him up abruptly.
But James was not asleep. His hazel eyes were fixing the ceiling, frozen in death and there was this horrible expression on his face. James died worried, James died knowing Lily and Harry might not survive that night. Tears started to pick Sirius’ eyes. He kneeled next to his best friend and looked at him, completely devoid. He finally dared to touch the cold body and closed James’ eyelids softly.

‘I’ll see you on the other side’ he muttered, tears slowly blinding him.

 He’d never hear James’ laugh again. He was gone. Sirius sniffed and started to climb the stairs leading to the second floor. He knew there was nobody alive in this house anymore, but he had to see it for himself. He had to know they were all gone for good. He had to make sure his whole world had really collapsed. He moved very carefully, like his footsteps would disturb the awful silence that was reigning in the cottage. His heart jumped when he saw Hagrid standing in the middle of Harry’s bedroom, sniffing and whimpering like an infant. He hadn’t seen the giant man since he left Hogwarts five years ago. At his feet, dark red locks were reflecting the strangely lit room. He didn’t need to see more. Laying on her stomach, Lily almost looked peaceful. Sirius made the floor crack as Hagrid turned around snappishly to face the intruder, pointing a pink umbrella at Sirius’ chest. He was holding tightly something in his other arm, something he needed to protect.
‘Hagrid?’ muttered Sirius, facing Hogwarts’ gamekeeper.
‘Sirius Black?’ replied the big man standing.
‘Is Harry…?’
‘Found him in his crib like that, crying for his mum. Poor Lily…’ cried Hagrid, looking down at the dead woman.
Sirius glanced at the child, wrapped in a blue blanket, now sound asleep into the giant’s arms . He stepped towards Harry, but Hagrid stepped back as well.
‘Don’t’ he said rudely.
Sirius laid down his wand. He opened his arms and reached out for Harry.
‘Give me the child, Hagrid.’
‘No. Dumbledore told me to keep him. Bring him to safety.’
‘I’m his godfather’ replied Sirius, now crying.’He’s safe with me.’
Mercifully, Harry was alive. Sirius knew that he was going to live to protect this child from now on. He’d be right for James, right for Lily. He’d take care of their son like the Potters took care of him. 
‘Ye’re not going to have him, Sirius. Dumbledore told me to take him to the Dursleys.’
‘The Dursleys? What are you talking about? Give me the child Hagrid!’
But Hagrid pointed again his pink umbrella to Sirius’ chest. He put his hand in the air.
‘What happened Hagrid?’ he cautiously asked.
Hagrid’s eyes opened widely.
‘Ye don’t know? The Dark Lord, he gone!’ he replied between sniffles.
Sirius’ expression changed. What could have happened in this house that his best friend and wife, along with Voldemort, were all dead? Life had no meaning anymore. If he couldn’t even take care of Harry, if is best friend lost his life to the hand of Lord Voldemort, what was left for Sirius? He failed at protecting them and he’d be failing as a godfather as well if he couldn’t take care of Harry.
‘Who has been here?’ Sirius asked, his chest beginning to become tight.
‘Only Dumbledore and me’ Hagrid replied, looking at Harry’s face.
Sirius followed Hagrid’s gaze to his godson’s forehead where a bloody scar formed a lightning bolt shape.
‘Nobody else?’ asked Sirius, his thoughts starting to put the pieces together.
‘Well, only ye and that Pettigrew boy, he came earlier, saw the scene and vanished.’
‘Where did he go? When was that?’ asked Sirius, panicked.
‘Not long ago, he didn’t say where he was going’ sniffled Hagrid. 

Police’s sirens could be heard. They needed to get out.

Sirius turned his back and wiped his face stained with tears. The giant followed him and started to walk out of the house.
‘Where’re you going?’ shouted Sirius, trying to fight back the unbearable pain he felt. He didn’t want to leave James and Lily behind. But he needed to go.
‘Told ye, I need to bring the boy to The Dursleys’ Hagrid replied. ‘Dumbledore’s orders.’
‘You’re not going to get there by walking!’
Hagrid turned around, Harry seemed so small in his arms.
‘Take the bike’ Sirius said. ‘I won’t need it anymore’
And without looking back he disapparated. He found himself into a poorly lightened backstreet. Outraged, he knocked on Wormtail’s door. He waited. Nobody came to answer.
‘PETER!’ he shouted, trying to stop his body to shake with anger.
He drew his wand off his pocket and blasted the door with rage. He entered Peter’s hiding place. Obviously he wasn’t there. He looked all around; everything seemed to be in its right place. Sirius started to pace inside the little flat. Everything was in order, why was everything in order? Oh, what a naïve and fool he had been!
Nervously he put his hand in his face and fell on his knees.
‘No, no, no!’ he shouted, panting and sweating.
There was this knot inside him, tearing him off completely.
At that moment, Sirius realized the mistake he had made. He should have stayed the secret keeper. He never should have trusted Peter. He couldn’t be right; James and Lily couldn’t be dead because of this, could they? Because of him?
Sirius got up. Filled with rage, he clenched his fists together when he saw a tiny man looking at him through the opened door. His watery eyes were crammed with a mix of panic and fear.
‘YOU!’ said Sirius, getting out of Peter’s lair in a hurry.
Peter was running as fast as he could, soon reaching the crowded streets of London.
But Sirius didn’t care anymore. If Muggles saw them didn’t matter.
‘YOU TRAITOR!’ shouted Sirius, jumping on Peter’s back.
They both fell on the sidewalk, where horrified people dispersed themselves from the two fighting men. Sirius lifted Peter by the collar and punched him.
‘They trusted you! Why did you do it? Why did you tell him where they were?’
Peter looked around for an issue and bit Sirius’ hand. Sirius released him as Peter ran away. Sirius looked at his bleeding hand, losing focus on Peter.
‘You come back! I swear with my life you’re going to pay, Pettigrew!’
Leaning on a brick wall, observed by a dozen of eyes, Peter turned his back from the crowd and Sirius saw him doing something odd, like he was messing with his hands. He heard a childlike little scream of pain escape from Peter’s mouth as he saw a strange little shape falling on the ground followed by a trail of dark blood. Sirius observed him, confused. Peter turned around with a smirk on his face. Although he looked in pain, he also looked like he was about to laugh. Sirius looked down at Peter’s hand, where a missing finger could be noticed.

‘YOU KILLED JAMES AND LILY!’ Peter shouted, like if he was performing in front of an audience. ‘YOU BETRAYED THEM TO THE DARK LORD!’ 

‘Oh, don’t you dare…’ growled Sirius, reaching for his wand.
But before anything could happen, the ground disappeared under his feet as he felt a massive pain in the head. He felt his body flown into the air and banging in the cement soil. There was this incessant buzzing, his head felt suddenly heavy. Sirius tried to open his eyes filled with dirt. He finally sat down and he looked all around him. Beside him laid a dozen of people among the debris as the sound of a blown up fountain post could be heard. Sirius noticed Peter’s absence. His heart felt crushed again. Everything seemed to be absurd, what was this living nightmare? Life was just dissolving before his eyes. How many had to die tonight? The only thing he knew is that if he had been the secret keeper, like it was supposed to be, he’d be the only dead one. He would never have given up on James and Lily, surely leading to his death, but Harry would still have his parents. He hated himself and he hated life’s unfairness. 

Through his silent tears, he scoffed. Everything did not happen the way it was supposed to. He started to laugh uncontrollably. Nervously at first but his laugh became louder and louder. He was laughing the pain away, he was laughing the guilt away. As the Aurors arrived on the scene, he felt arms grabbing him by the shoulders. His laughter was echoing in this sinister night where he knew, he really knew, everything was never going to be the same again. Although he was still alive, he felt like he wasn’t anymore. 

ramblingredrose  asked:

♡ for... your choice of characters from the Raven Cycle

I can’t see a prompt about sleeping without going Pynch. Although, technically, this is set a bit pre-Pynch, late Blue Lily, Lily Blue ish. Takes advantage of the insinuation that Ronan was a frequent visitor to Adam’s St. Agnes place.

Dealing with Ronan was less like dealing with another human and more like dealing with Cabeswater. His communication style was best described as forces of nature than any more easily understood language. He swept through a room like a storm and offered smiles as sharp as the sickle of a waning moon. As with Cabeswater, Adam felt like he was slowly getting better at interpreting.

Ronan’s arrival was generally heralded by the thump of bass in the St. Agnes parking lot, like a thunderstorm localized in one charcoal grey BMW. If it was followed by the pronounced screech of tires, it meant danger. Ronan was in a mood and looking to drag Adam into it. If, instead, a knock or “Hey, open up, asshole” followed the sound of boots on the stairway, it was generally a better portent. Tonight, it seemed, would be just such a night.

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Writer (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by dont-give-a-bother

Request:  Could you possibly do a newt x reader where the reader is a writer like newt and everyone thinks they’re in a relationship but they’re not but then he asked her out at in interview or some event? - Anon

You’re gonna have to work with me here since in this one wizards use the Internet

E/C: Eye color

H/C: Hair color

L/N: Last name

Hope you like it, a lot longer than I intended 

You were the author of a book on magical herbs and their primary use.  Your book had become a worldwide sensation the same time as another wizard’s book had rose to fame.  Newt Scamander, and his book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.  You and Newt had crossed paths once or twice, yes.  Once you met Newt to ask him a few questions about if any of his herbivorous eat any of the plants you were studying.  He gladly answered all of your questions and even took the time to ask you a few questions himself.  That was all; nothing special or romantic.

But your fans wanted different.

Most of them thought you two would be the absolute perfect couple.  You never thought

much of it.  That is, until people began writing this weird stuff called “fan fiction” about you and Newt.  #Y/N Scamander was everywhere.  Being the curious individual you were, you read some of it.  That was when you realized what a cute couple you two would actually be.  Sure, you did think Newt was a bit cute.  Okay… a lot.  The beautiful cinnamon dusted curls, seafoam eyes, the adorable freckles that dotted his face…

As it turns out, Newt sees you the same way.  Luscious H/C locks, sparkling E/C eyes, perfect everything.  The last time you saw each other was a little over a month ago at a book signing.  

Two days later, the Ministry sent out letters (by owl, of course) to selected people involved in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures from England containing information about a party being held at the Ministry of Magic.  It also included a list of all others that were invited.  

Newt’s eyes scanned the list for your name, a glimmer of hope shown inside him even though you weren’t a part of that department. Newt’s heart sank a little when he saw your name wasn’t there. But then, his eyes drifted to the bottom of the paper where it said:

You are permitted to bring a maximum of one guest with you.

It didn’t take long for him to decide who he wanted to invite.  None other than you, Y/N L/N.  Newt figured writing a letter to ask you out was going to be much easier than asking you in person.  He sat down at his messy desk in his case and dipped his quill in the large bottle of ink and began writing his letter to you.

Once Newt finished the squiggle of the ‘R’ in on his signature, he neatly placed the note in an envelope and finished it off with a red wax seal before giving it to his messenger owl to then deliver to you.

**Time skip to your house**

You were observing the plants you kept on the windowsill of your bedroom when an owl suddenly flew over causing you to jump a little and began ‘tap tap tapping’ on the window holding a letter between its beak.  You opened the window, retrieved the letter, and the owl flew off.  

“I wonder if it’s more fan mail,” you whispered to yourself.  You sat at your desk and tore open the letter.

Dear Miss L/N,

I believe you are familiar with me: Newt Scamander.  Recently I was invited to a party at the Ministry of Magic for members of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on April 26.  I am allowed to bring one guest to attend with me, and I would like that guest to be you.  Please note that it is perfectly fine if you decline.  However, if you do wish to come, please respond to this letter as soon as you get it.


Newton Scamander.

You were blushing furiously even though it was nothing more than ink on a paper.  Boy, did this man have beautiful handwriting. Of course your answer was yes.  

Newt Scamander!  Asked ME to attend an event at the Ministry with him!  You thought.

You sat down on your desk and grabbed a piece of parchment from a stack you always had handy.  You quickly wrote down your response and then gave it to your owl where she flew off to give it to Newt.


Newt was full of happiness when he saw your response.

Dear Mr. Scamander,

Yes, I will gladly attend the party with you!  It will be very nice to be in your company again.

Thank you ever so much,

Y/N L/N.

**Time skip to the party**

Newt stood in the corner of the building to avoid the other many witches and wizards bustling about.  Silver trays with fancy foods and drinks floated around to guests, but Newt turned down every one.  He was too excited to see you.  Never in a million years did he think you would agree to be his date.

Newt checked his pocket watch.  It had been ten minutes since he had arrived, but you were still nowhere in sight.  

Just a bit late, that’s all.  Newt reassured himself.

Just then, Newt heard the fast-paced click-clack of heels coming from his left.  He turned around to see you, breathing heavier than normal.

“So sorry I’m late.  I was planning to apparate straight here ten minutes ago but I lost my wand in my garden,” you said.

Newt grinned at how cute you were.  “A larger garden than most, I suppose?”

“Very,” you responded, smiling.

“Did I mention you look beautiful, Miss L/N?  Thank you so much for coming with me, by the way.”

You smiled widely at Newt’s comment.  “And you look quite handsome, Mr. Scamander.  But please, call me Y/N.

“Of course, Y/N.  Call me Newt.”

The two of you began making small talk about what had happened in your lives since you last saw each other.  Newt told you about his new discoveries with his magical creatures; and you spoke about your garden and new plant hybrids you had been working on.

Eventually you decided to bring up the topic of fanfiction.

“Newt, have you ever heard of… fanfiction?” you asked cautiously.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head.  “No, I don’t believe I’m familiar with it.  Could you please tell me?”

“So… it’s basically that a lot of our fans have taken up a hobby of writing stories about the two of us and then putting them on the Internet.”

“What kind of stories?” Newt asked, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

“Well…” you paused.  “They’re about us… if we were… a couple.”

Newt’s eyes widened.  “A couple?”

“Yeah…” you realized you had just made a huge mistake.

Or maybe not.

After a few moments, Newt reached down and took both of your hands in his.  “Well… then maybe we should give the public what they want.”

His eyes moved down to look at your lips for a brief second.  You realized what he was going to do.

Newt leaned in, and gently pressed his lips to yours, one hand now on your waist.  You kissed back, lightly stroking his hair.  It only lasted a few seconds before you both pulled away.  You were in a public place, after all.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Newt said.

“Same here,” you replied.

Newt brought his arm around your waist.  “Maybe we should take this somewhere more… private?”

You nodded.  “Agreed.”

Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!

A Promise - Finnick Odair Imagine

Rating: PG-13, cuz I’m a very paranoid person

Warnings: mentions of pain torture, jabberjays, mean Capitol

Summary: The Capitol controlled everything, even the hate between you and a certain Finnick Odair. Or so they thought. When you get trapped in the Jabberjays section, you were so sure nothing would affect you. You were terribly wrong.

Word Count: 1678

You wielded your bo before locking it into place on your back. You got separated from Finnick while fighting at the Cornucopia. You had to find Finnick. You were sure that Finnick survived the bloodbath, but you needed to find him as soon as possible. Even though the audience believed that you and Finnick were rivals, you didn’t care. You were getting out of the arena and away from the Capitol, anyway.

Keeping your eyes peeled, you trekked through the jungle environment. So far, there wasn’t anything suspicious. You didn’t dare eat the tempting nuts, go near the lake surrounding the Cornucopia, or shout for Finnick. you played with the bracelet on your wrist, trying to concentrate.

Something moved. You heard the rustle of leaves. You placed your hand on your bo, prepared for anything unexpected.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!”

You stopped in your tracks. That was your mother’s voice. But, your mother was dead. You tilted your head in confusion before resuming your defensive stance.

“Help me!”

Your father’s voice. You blinked and shook your head. He was dead, too. You were only in the game for a couple of hours. You knew you weren’t going crazy from sleep deprivation, dehydration, or starvation. You scoffed. The Capitol was trying to play tricks on you. “Not gonna work!” you shouted. “Everyone I care about’s gone,” you stated, walking through the jungle.

“(Y/n)! Help! Please!”

You froze. “Finnick?” you whispered. You shook your head. It couldn’t be him. He was with Katniss, like planned. He couldn’t be anywhere near you. It wasn’t possible.

“(Y/n)! Help!”

Your heart crumbled. “Finnick! Finnick! Where are you?” You ripped through the trees. You whipped out your bow. “Finnick!”

“(Y/n)! Help me! Please! (Y/n)!”

Your eyes watered. What was happening to him? Finnick was always so brave. He would never wail like this. Not if something truly horrible was happening. What was the Capitol doing to him? What cruel thing were they doing this time? You had to get to him. You had to help him. You couldn’t go on in this game without him.

“Finnick!” The screams emanated from that area. You spun around. “Finnick!” you cried. “Where are you? Please!”

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” Pain was laced throughout his cries. His pleads speared you right through your heart. Where was he?


You pressed your hands to your head. It hurt! It pained you! You took deep breaths. You had to do something. You had to find a way to get to Finnick. Did the Capitol camouflage him somehow? Maybe he was higher in the trees. “Finnick! I’m coming for you!”

You searched the trees.

“(Y/n)! Help me! (Y/n)! Please!”

Your heart pounded against your chest. A weight crushed your lungs. Your head spun in circles. Everything was green. Green. Green. Green.

Black? Something black caught your eyes. No, wait. It was dark blue. “Finnick?”

The spot flew. It flew towards you! The bird opened its beak. “(Y/n)!”

You screamed and ducked down. Finnick’s cries continued to bombard your ears. you sprung back up. This bird. It was the source of Finnick’s cries. It made you scream his name. It made you scared.

You hated it.

Before the wretched bird could scream its awful cry, you slammed your bo against its head. Your breathing was labored. You shut your eyes and looked away. It was only then that you realized what these monsters were. Jabberjays. Experiments of the Capitols trained to repeat what they’ve heard.

They heard Finnick’s screams. They’ve been with Finnick. He was suffering!


A multitude of Finnick’s shrill screams rang through the air again.

You whipped your head around. A flock of birds swooped down from the trees and headed straight towards you.

You did the only thing you could do. You ran. You pumped your legs as hard as you could.

“(Y/n)! Help me!”

You shook your head. His cries sounded so real. You could picture Finnick in pain. You could see him reaching for you. You could see him pleading for you to come. It was too much to bare. You covered your ears. Tears streamed down your face. You kept on running.


You ran straight into a wall. You couldn’t see it. It was like glass. A force field. “No,” you whispered. You punched the force field. Nothing. You took out your bo and hit it. Nothing. You unsheathed your knife and struck the wall once again. Nothing.

The abominations came at you, surrounding you and engulfing you in its storm.

“(Y/n)! Help me! Help!”

You covered your ears and sunk to the ground. Where was Finnick? He had to be in the arena. What monster did they unleash? What torture were they putting him through? How could they be so cruel?

“Stop it!” you pleaded. “Stop hurting him! Please!”

The torture just grew. Finnick’s screams seemed to grow louder. It clanged about in your heart and head. He was somewhere suffering. And you couldn’t get to him. No matter what you did, Finnick would be suffering without you by his side. The screams of your name echoed, sounding so painful.

You didn’t even realize that the birds had fled. A trident had flown through the air and scared off the Jabberjays.

Someone touched your shoulder. “(Y/n)?”

You sprung up and took out your bo. “Get away from me!” you screamed.

You observed your targets. They looked like tributes. Katniss. Peeta. One looked exactly like Finnick.

It was a trick! It had to be. Finnick was somewhere screaming his head off. This thing was just another illusion by the Capitol. This experiment was just going to trick you. Lead you into some sort of trap. Maybe even kill you. You couldn’t have that happen. You needed to find the real Finnick.

The Finnick copy stepped towards you. “Hey, (y/n), it’s ok. You’re safe now.”

You scowled. “That’s what the Capitol wants me to think,” you sneered.

“Hey, we trust each other, don’t we?”

Its voice sounded just like his. It was so soft and gentle and alluring. But you weren’t going to fall for it. “No. We don’t.”

The thing blinked. “(Y/n),” it purred. “It’s me. I’m Finnick.” It stepped towards you.

You held your bo so that the pointed end rested on its chest. “And how the hell do I know that?”

The Katniss fake strung an arrow.

You threatened, “Don’t test me, you mutt.”

“Hey,” Finnick-fake started, bringing your attention back to him. “(Y/n), I’ll prove it to you. I’m real.”

You just stared at him.

It took your silence as a go-ahead. “You won the 67th Hunger Games at the age of fifteen. I was your mentor.” The counterfeit Finnick  laughed, pointing at your charm bracelet. “That bracelet’s nice.”

You slightly pushed your bo forward. It wasn’t enough to harm the mutt, but it was enough to warn it. “Anyone could figure that out. The Capitol knows all of that.”

“Ah, but they don’t know one about you.”

“And what is this one thing?”

It smiled ever so slightly. “You told everyone that bracelet was made by Mags. You lied. I gave that promise to you.”

You gulped. You and Finnick had agreed to never tell anyone about the two of you. Before you were reaped, Finnick and you were the best of friends. You jumped forward when his name was called at his Reaping. You were interviewed when the Games was nearing its end. You were the first to congratulate him when he came back home.

The Capitol hated that. The Capitol didn’t like the idea of their District 4 sex symbol being tied down.

All footage of you was cut from the viewings. However, it didn’t stop Finnick from bringing you on camera. He invited you to his house when paparazzi was there. He mentioned you in every interview. He didn’t want to lose you as a best friend.

The Capitol fought back. That’s when you were reaped.

After you won, Finnick and you admitted your love for each other in private. However, the two of you knew it wouldn’t please the Capitol. Not wanting to take the risk, Finnick and you agreed never to be seen on camera together, never mention each other in interviews, never even talk to each other at home. In order to make people believe it, Finnick and you staged an argument that played on television for years. You scheduled secret meetings in different places at different times, successfully keeping the Capitol off your trail.

“We have to stop doing this,” you had muttered once against Finnick’s lips.

“You want to stop kissing?”

You had laughed and stared into his eyes. “Finnick, how is this going to work?”

Finnick had sighed. “We will be together one day. I promise.”

It wasn’t enough proof for you. You had stared at the ground.

“Hey, I got you something.” Finnick had slipped something cool on your wrist.

You had looked at your wrist and smiled sadly. “A charm bracelet?”

“A promise.” He had lifted your hand and gently kissed your knuckles. “I will always love you, (Y/n).”

This mutt was not a mutt. It was Finnick, the one who loved you, the one you loved you. It was your best friend. You dropped your weapon and smiled. “Finnick,” you whispered.

The young man beamed and took you in his arms. He threaded his fingers through your hair. The Victor sighed as relief took over his body. He hadn’t held you so close in so long. With so many cameras around, he never had the chance to.

You hugged him close to you. “I thought- I thought you were… You were screaming for me,” you exasperated. It filled you with joy being back in Finnick’s arms. You smiled widely. you could finally hug him, even if the Capitol was watching.

Finnick chuckled a little before tightening his grip on you. “I missed you. So much.”

You smiled. “Me, too. I missed you, too.”

Hey guys! I had way too much fun with this one…. Sorry if it’s really confusing. One thing led to another and then it became a complicated and convoluted plot. 

So! I hope you don’t hate it! Have a great night guys! Hope to talk to you again soon!

anonymous asked:

on the topic of tattoos does lindsay have a tattoo too?????

Oh man, i’m locked into Lindsay as the Firebird across pretty much all my au’s so i think it would be Phoenixes. 

Geoff’s tattoo, sleek and stylised like an official emblem, comes after the success of one of the crew’s most profitable jobs, picked, planned and overseen almost entirely by Lindsay on her own. 

While classically shaped, the feathers of Jeremy’s Phoenix are a rainbow of colours, splattered like bright paint flying across his skin. It covers the nasty scar Jeremy picked up early in his time with the Fake’s, pinned down by the cops and getting desperate before Lindsay doubled back to cover him. 

Gavin’s tattoo, undertaken some time during the week he and Lindsay dropped off the map to undertake the strangest, most destructive road trip of their lives, is a single wing bursting from his shoulder blade and extending down his arm. The feathers start in charred blacks like glowing embers before bursting into the vivid reds and oranges of a roaring fire. 

After getting stuck together in a safe house with all of three movies to pass the time, and the resulting long bonding sessions they’ve had about Harry Potter, Jack’s Phoenix is noticeably Fawkes, talons clenched tightly around a studded baseball bat. 

Ryan and Lindsay have been good friends since just about their first meeting. They both understand being torn down, destroyed, then rebuilding yourself from the ashes, better and brighter than you ever were before. It makes sense that this is the stage Ryan chooses, his tattoo not the prettiest but certainly striking, Phoenix bursting back to life on his thigh. 

Michael has the biggest Phoenix, vibrant wings spread across his back, feathers wrapping around to curve over his shoulders and against his ribs, long tail feathers trailing all the way down his spine. The bird’s sharp talons are extended, beak open in a screech, as fearsome as it is beautiful. The tattoo took endless hours to finish, though not nearly as many as Michael spent glued to Lindsay’s side, holding her limp hand in Caleb’s medbay after she took the bullet that should have ended his life. 

Crack Masterlist

Carry On Crack by carry-on-kissing-snowbaz

Simon felt nervous as he walked down the aisle.

carry on except crucial parts of the story have been replaced with popular song lyrics by rosebudbasilton


Will ruin Carry On for you

Mm. Whatcha say indeed.

Egg by chapter-61

Penny entered the shed and immediately everyone started yelling, beaks wide open and feathers out.

meme’d by rosebudbasilton 

Penny is the resident Memelord

our love is memetastic by arituzz

Meme count: over 9000 

The Baguette Fanfiction Saga (full) by thepessimisticasshole

agatha isn’t leaving him alone.

the diss track no one asked for by rosebudbasilton

Happy that Mage is gone.

chrisvertner  asked:

So. I know Prompto loves chocobos. Personally I'm actually terrified of the idea of them. I've been around emus and ostriches and. Big birds like that scare me so. Could you do a thing on how Prompto would react to finding out his s/o is scared of them. Though maybe they've never actually been around one up close before.

So I briefly checked the height of a fullgrown emu and I just. Holy shit.

Keep reading

“Burn, Phoenix, Burn” - (KnB) - AkaKuro White Day 2017

For my Akashi, @mschibi27! I really liked your gift so I hope you’ll like this one too. I went for Soulmates!AU but kept it more or less canon ^^”

Burn, Phoenix, Burn

Kuroko knew who his soulmate was. As a matter of fact, he had known since he was twelve and he caught sight of his middle school captain brushing the sweat off his chin with the collar of his shirt.

Akashi was pretty, back then. He hadn’t reached the handsomeness of a man, yet, but he held a soft beauty that was not childish anymore either. The sharpening lines of his face, the firm shape of his body in contrast with the softness of his round eyes, the voice not yet broken; Kuroko had looked at him like he was a piece of art on the making. The silver lines of a phoenix on his left hipbone suited him, yet somehow was in contrast with the fierceness of his red hair and eyes, with the demeanor of a winner above all.

Gold, he used to think, would have been better.

Keep reading