the most beautiful of all the most beautiful birds

Missed AU Opportunities

You know what profession-based AU we really need to see more of? CONTRACTOR AUs. Yes, I mean the contractors who work on your house. 

You’re probably side-eyeing this post right now, but if you are – it’s only because you haven’t thought of all the glorious possibilities. 

- “My landlord didn’t warn me that there was work being done in the kitchen, and now the most beautiful human being I’ve ever seen is in my house tearing out a kitchen wall, and I’m in ratty sweats, and it looks like a bird nested in my hair.” 

- “I have to stay in my apartment while the landlord is having the bathroom redone because I have no money for a hotel, but it’s okay because the person working on it is so beautiful. Wait, I have nowhere to shower.”

- “I’m working on the most adorable house for the cutest person, but this is obviously a place for a couple, so I must just have not met the significant other yet.”

But most importantly, the possibilities for all the puns and double entendres: 

- “I don’t need a stud finder. I’ve already found you.” 

- “The pipe burst in my wall and I need this whole room redone now, I hope the contractor doesn’t screw me. Wait, that’s the contractor? Please screw me.” 

- “There’s something else in this apartment you can nail.” 

I’m waiting, friends. I’m waiting. 

Fire and Ice

Fandom: Overwatch
Pairing: Mchanzo
Rating: Teen and Up
Prompt: Day||Night (Both)
Warning: Fluff… so much fluff

A/N: I apologize in advance.

The sunrise was one of the most beautiful things in the world to Jesse McCree. It was more than the colors in the sky, the sun taking it’s place in the sky, or the birds and insects making the morning sing. It was the chance to start again, to start anew. To take all the pain of the day before and wipe it clean from the mind.

Jesse stood on the balcony of the base of Gibraltar, overlooking the vast expanse of the world around him. The mountains, rolling hills, and gentle clouds painted the most beautiful picture when bathed in the sun’s rays. No matter how many times he saw it, it would always feel so… enchanting.

“Is there a reason you were absent from last night’s briefing?” The thick Eastern accent turned Jesse from the scenery to the gruff and discontent archer standing behind him. The morning light really did give everything a certain glow, “The ape was not pleased in the least.”

“Sorry, Hanzo, but night ain’t really my style, that’s the time a man aught to be resting for the day ahead,” Jesse sauntered up the the man and looked him dead in the eyes. Hanzo didn’t flinch or look away, stared right back. That’s what Jesse liked about this one; he gave just as good as he got.

“If you miss another one, you will not wake again,” Hanzo huffed, folding his arms over his chest. Jesse’s heart melted. He tiped his hat back and placed a light kiss on the archer’s lips.

“Awe, you worried about me? I didn’t know you cared,” Jesse chuckled. He pulled a puppy dog look and hooked his arms around Hanzo’s neck. He could see the archer lose his composure little by little until he was forced to smile.

“If you must question it, then I have done something wrong,” Hanzo laughed. The way it rumbled from his gut and danced in his chest before it sprung from his lips was hypnotic. Ever since the first time he heard it, he knew it was magical. It was meant to be heard as often as he was privileged to be there to experience it.

“Just making sure, darlin’. You know I have a hard time believing this ain’t a dream,” Jesse whispered.

“I assure you I am real. After these past two years, I would hope you would have come to terms with it like I have,” the archer unfolded his arms and cupped Jesse’s face.

“Even if you’re not, I don’t mind it much. Best dream I ever had,” he quipped.

“Now you are just being absurd,” Hanzo dropped his hands and made for the door back inside, “Let us go to breakfast. We only have an hour before it is over.”

Jesse turned and gazed at the sun one last time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box he’d been carrying since he’d picked it up last night. Taking a deep breath, he opened it and watched the diamonds sparkle in the sunrise, the interwoven dragon design on the band holding them in place. He was ready for his own sunrise, to put the life he had before behind him and make a new start.

Jesse pocketed the box and ran after Hanzo to catch up before he got left.

There were so many stars in the sky. Each with their own story, their own wish that someone had made on them. Small prayers to some unknown force in hopes that someone was listening. Hanzo Shimada could count all the ones he had made to them.

‘Give me the strength to seek forgiveness’

'Carry my feet forward, don’t let them turn back now’

'Don’t drive him away, don’t let my past ruin my future’

'Bring him home, don’t take him from me now’

The moon was full on this night. It was bright against the dark sky, illuminating the silence of the late atmosphere. Hanzo always took this time alone to think about all the things he never had the time to during the day. He appreciated the world of the night, and how beautiful the simplicity of it all could be.

In his hands was the serape of the man he loved. He smiled as he hugged it close to his chest. It had been years since the morning Hanzo had given his life to him. The ring hung from the silver necklace around his neck. He loved it the moment laid eyes on it. He’ll never admit it, but he did cry when Jesse proposed.

“Hey,” came a voice from the interior of the simple brick home.

“Yes?” Hanzo turned and raised an eyebrow.

“You know Robin and Joey can’t sleep without that,” Hanzo’s husband pointed at the serape in his hands, “And I can’t sleep without you. When are you comin’ to bed?”

“Soon, Jesse,” Hanzo smiled, “The children are merely restless because my brother will be here to see them tomorrow.”

Jesse McCree approached Hanzo from behind and wrapped his hands around his husband. Hanzo almost purred with contentment. He would never tire of this, no matter how much he indulged in it.

Hanzo grabbed Jesse by the hand and led him inside. Reflecting on the past every now and again was fine, but now he could also look forward to the end because it was only a prelude to new beginnings.


Originally posted by harryesque

Harry Styles Tarzan AU (Y/N) is the daughter of an explorer who has taken it upon himself to explore the jungles of the African Congo. (Y/N) joins her father seeking an escape from her everyday life and the wonderful adventures that the Congo had to offer. They explored the beautiful jungles, came face to face with the most wonderful wildlife, and met the amazing people of the African tribes that called the Congo home. Her life became routine, until one day she stumbled across the jungle’s greatest secret. 

Keep reading

Enlighten Me

Pairing: Quicksilver x Reader

Wordcount: 1300

Warnings: possible swearing idek

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted some Peter so here y’all go lol


January 11th, Lisbon, Portugal; Hot, arid summer and the smell of ginger and cloves; swimming in the sea and Latin letters drawn in the sand…the prickle of sun on bronzed skin and wind licking up your heels as you run…bright lights and languid nights spent trawling the streets of the city for an adventure you’d never find back home. Lisbon Portugal, and Y/N had never been this happy.

Not in a while, no…Everything seemed to come so much easier that month. Happiness, peace of mind, love (their bank accounts were filling up nicely, too). January, she remembered. Thirty one days of hedonistic pursuit, of travelling the world in search of a part of her that had seemingly been lost in all the late nights spent at the office and a hefty breakup that left her in pieces for two weeks. January. Hers. Forever.

Sitting on a pile of sand a few feet away from the ocean, Y/N watched the water crash onto land, push and pull and call for her to dive in. Hungry to swallow her. Greedy. She had already spent the entire day feeding the waters, but now she was tired, worn out, and all she wanted to do was watch. Her eyes followed the tide coming in. It breached into the sand, foamy edges that would retract but a few seconds later. The ocean was beautiful, that much she knew. Everything was beautiful, she’d found, if you looked hard enough. All it took was a keen eye; a keen eye most people didn’t have.

Up until a few months ago, she’d been blind like most people, too. Ignorant of what the wind whispered when it blew harshly through the streets, of what the birds’ songs meant, of what was written in the stars on a late, lonely night. Up until a few months ago, Y/N recalled, she’d been just as sightless as the rest of the world. Fresh out of college and working as an intern at a design company, driven by desire to someday be the head of the franchise. Hah—dreams of a little girl who refused to grow up. Looking back now, it was obvious. She should have seen it, her downfall, only she hadn’t.

Cut to now, with her newborn gift of sight, she’d be able to tell events before they happened, be able to prevent the heartache she’d experience back then.

At that moment a keen wind picked up as the waters gurgled, when a voice suddenly cut through her reverie.

“You alright?”

Y/N’s head whipped in the direction of the sound.


Smiling at her unsurely, still shirtless and dusted with sand as he slowly approached her. Y/N smiled softly when she saw him jogging over.

“You look…sad.” He said as he sat down next to her. He was panting heavily, still a bit wet, a bit too-himself from the way his eyes glinted violently. His deep brown gaze darted over her face, searching. Silver hair hung around his face like a curtain, little strands poking out from behind his ears, tickling the tip of his nose.

Grey hair, a sign of wisdom. A testament to the world of his astuteness, hidden beneath a comical demeanor and stubbornness (God help them, he was stubborn) that she could see through. Peter Maximoff, a mutant, a friend to most. Recollection of how they’d met was a tangled mess of memories her life between college and working at the company; days spent in the school of the gifted—all fleeting memories, all barely decipherable.

Gaze trained on his, Y/N shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it.” Peter leaned back in the sand with his hands propped under his head. “You look like you’re thinking, and what did I tell you about that? Brings a whole lotta bad.”

Y/N laughed then shook her head. “What are you, Aristotle? No, I’m just…I’m thinking about good stuff this time.”

This time.


A silence. He was watching her, jovial eyes turned somber and waiting for a response.

She took in a deep breath, then…

“I look around me and I see….everything I never thought I would. I see the ocean, the sand—I feel it. I’ve been to more countries than I ever thought I’d go to and I’ve lived. Really lived…”

She turned to look at Peter, fondness swimming in her eyes.

“….all with you…because of you.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“You just don’t give yourself enough.”

“Maybe. Does it matter? I like to think that that’s something insignificant.”

Smiling, Y/N shook her head slowly, gaze never faltering. A swell of warmth flourished in her chest. Through her coursed cocktail of emotions she tried to grasp—happiness? Contentment? Love?—Maybe all of them. She couldn’t decipher it. She didn’t want to.

All she wanted was Peter, her Peter, who had opened her eyes all those months ago.

She shifted closer to him, straddling his lap and leaning down with their faces inches apart. Her hair fell like a curtain around them, shutting out the world, the greedy ocean lapping at the shore…Him. Peter….if it hadn’t been for him then January would have never been as memorable.

With a smile, the grey-haired boy chuckled and his hands found her waist. Y/N licked her lips. Leaned in closer. His fingers drew little symbols on her skin as he spoke.

“Peter…” She said, her hand gently cupping his face. “…Sweet, sweet Peter. Mine.”


“Always?” She asked.

He nodded wordlessly.

Waves rushed onto the shore and drew back. The sky melted into a stretch of navy blue as the sun set, laced with purple and streams of faded clouds. In her chest Y/N felt it happen, the awakening, the final step to enlightenment—him. Here. With her. On a beach far, far away from both their past lives, tangled up with each other in a moment she wished she could freeze for future days.

Trailing nimble fingers along his cheek, her eyes bore into Peter’s. Y/N spoke softly.

“How long has it been since we left? It feels like ages.”

“Longer, probably. Who cares? Part of the fun of this journey is the moving ahead and never looking back. Don’t look back now.”

“I’m only asking.”

“Don’t.” He took her hands and laced them with his, holding them up on either side of her head. She smiled. Wide. God, she looked like an Angel hovering above him, cherubic features peering down at him. Beneath her. He was beneath her in every sense of the word; he wasn’t as perfect, he’d never be. Maybe that’s what made them so fit for each other.

“You know,” Peter started, drawing her hands closer in and then out. “I’m the fastest man alive…I can run around this entire country in less than three minutes. I can run to Egypt and back within the same hour and yet, whenever I’m around you,…I manage to feel like the whole world has slowed down just for us. Stuck in time. Huh, maybe we are.”

“Maybe you’re just moving so fast it feels so? Sound barrier and all that.”

“Now look who sounds like Aristotle…”

She laughed and nuzzled her nose into his neck. Felt the rumble of his chuckle. Relished it.

Snaking his arms around her waist, he pulled her in closer, trapped against him. Caged in his arms. His. He peered down at her from the slope of his nose. And maybe she didn’t mind being here, being so far away from home. And maybe Peter had become her new home, one she moved with from the East to Asia to the ends of the earth. With him everything felt harmonized and poised. In place. Always. Every moment with him was January, thirty one days of delectation fitted into a second and oh, wasn’t it sweet…

And as they lay on that beach, mouths lazily moving against each other, Y/N knew: she would never be blind again.


I’m sorry if this is trash it was just sitting in my computer and I decided to upload it, but if you did like it, go ahead and like/reblog or follow to keep updated when I post more oneshots.

Thank you for reading!

skyreigning replied to your photo: Trying to understand bird anatomy, ft. mainly…

Owls are beautiful how dare u

Have you seen what an owl looks like under all those feathers? Let me demonstrate:

they’re so tiny. so light. so weird-looking with their giant eyes

Between this & the fact that they act pretty goofy – since most of their brain capacity is dedicated to sorting through the large amounts of sensory information provided by those anime eyes & sharp ears – I would argue that owls are most definitely ridiculous birds

My Walden
My Walden

My Walden–Nightwish

light shines bright beyond all the cities of gold
On a road of bird song and chocolate shops
Of buskers, jugglers, innkeeper’s welcoming call
The sound of mist, smell of moss-grown woods

Weaving my wings from many-colored yarns
Flying higher, higher, higher into the wild
Weaving my world into tapestry of life
Its fire, golden, in my Walden

Le Cygne

Title: Le Cygne (The Swan)

Genre: music (does that count?)

Word count: 1,502

Pairing: Adrienette

Summary: If you were to describe Marinette as a bird, which one would best describe her? A sparrow? A nightingale? For him, she was a swan. And he did not think of her as such until one classical Saturday night.

A shout-out to @gloumelmed for giving me the permission to write out the scene on her post of Marinette playing the violin! Thank you so much! The image link is here

This was challenging to write, but was so much fun as well! I hope you all will like it! Also, this piece is the 13th movement from the piece Le Carnaval des Animaux called Le Cygne by Camille Saint Saëns. I based this fanfic off of Joshua Bell’s rendition of the piece. Even if it’s a solo meant for the cello, this version is the violin.


“The plain was grassy, wild and bare.

Wide, wild and open to air,

Which had built up everywhere

An under-roof of doleful gray.

With an inner voice the river ran,

And down it floated a dying swan,

And loudly did it lament.”

- An excerpt from The Dying Swan by Alfred Lord Tennyson

If you were to describe Marinette as a bird, which one would best describe her?

A sparrow? A common little bird that you see everywhere? Shy and small?

Or maybe a nightingale, famous for its beautiful song of love and longing, symbolizing a creative individual who is uncovering her potential!

But for him, she was a swan. And he did not think of her as such until one Saturday night.

Adrien felt very self-conscious in the Theatre de Champs-Elysees lobby, being surrounded by middle aged men and their spouses in elegant evening wear. Being the youngest in the room, he tried not to be noticed. But it was hard when his face was on every large billboard in the city.

Chloe was supposed to be with him, but the idea of sitting through a two hour concert of classical music ‘bore her’ because ‘who listens to classical music nowadays anyway?’ Her words, not his.

He checked his watch. 7:00 PM. 30 minutes until the concert started. Looking around the room, hoping to see a familiar face, he didn’t notice where he was going and bumped into someone, sending them sprawling on the ground.


Adrien whirled around in shock as he looked down at the figure on the floor. “I’m so sorry – Marinette?”

She looked up and her blue eyes met his sea green ones. “Adrien!” She squeaked.

“I’m sorry Marinette.” Adrien apologized as he held out his hand.

“It’s okay.” Marinette said shyly as she took his hand and stood up. The young model had to blink a few times to make sure the young girl in front of him was actually his classmate.

Marinette had her hair down, falling around her bare shoulders as she wore a simple sleeveless ladybug red evening gown. Adrien caught her look of uncertainty and cleared his throat. “You look stunning tonight, Marinette.”

He had almost called her princess, but stopped himself in time. Seriously, if she looked like that, no one would think she was anything but.

“Thank you.” Marinette smiled shyly, her face almost as red as her face. “You look good as well.”

Adrien looked down at what he was wearing. Aside from the black pants and formal black shoes, it wasn’t really anything different from his normal every day wear. He grinned. “Not as good as you. To be honest, I feel a little under dressed.”

“No! No you look hot! I- I mean, you look fine with what you’re wearing!” Marinette stuttered, her face now as red as her dress. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Marinette said, “So you…um…came. To the concert.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now wouldn’t I?”

“O-of course!” Marinette said quickly. “So why did you come?”

“My piano mentor was planning on coming, but she couldn’t make it so she gave me the ticket instead.”

Marinette blinked. “Oh…Okay.”

“Would you rather I not come?” Adrien asked, a twinge of hurt in his voice.

“I didn’t say that!” Marinette said frantically in a loud voice. Several people stared at them. Marinette lowered her voice. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

He looked at his classmate closely. She was blushing like crazy, but there was a hint of guilt in her eyes. But then, a buzzer sounded, indicating that the performance would start in 15 minutes. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I have to go.”

“You’re not going to watch the show?”

Marinette smirked at him and said, “I am the show.”

Adrien stared at her. The way she put her hand on her hip and that twinkle in her eye, it reminded him of his lady for a second. That image was broken however, when Marinette realized what she said in front of her crush and turned into a sputtering mess once again.

“Um, do you have the program with you?” Adrien took out the blue program notes and opened it. Marinette pointed at a line in the program.

Le Carnaval des Animaux by Camille Saint Saëns

Mouvementé 13: Le Cygne

Guest soloist : Marinette Dupain-Cheng (violin)

“I didn’t know you played the violin!” Adrien exclaimed in amazement and delight. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Marinette grew embarrassed. “Well, it’s just something I picked up six years ago. I’m really not that great. With all the things going on right now, I don’t think I’ll have time to play it anymore.”

“You’re dropping it?” Marinette nodded. “But why?”

“I’m too busy with school and…it isn’t really my passion.” And I have superhero duties to attend to, she thought, but didn’t add. “So I don’t really have time to practice anymore.”

“That sucks. We could have totally done a duet together.” Adrien frowned, not noticing Marinette’s steaming face. A duet with Adrien. But then the buzzer sounded again, 10 minutes till the concert. “Looks like you have to go get ready.”

“Looks like it.” Marinette nodded. She smiled at him. “I hope you’ll enjoy the show.”

“I will. Good luck.” Adrien said. Marinette nodded and headed backstage to prepare.

There was a loud round of applause as the audience clapped at the finale of Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique. Adrien checked the program. The next piece the Paris Youth Orchestra was going to perform was Saint Saëns’ Le Carnaval des Animaux. He fidgeted nervously in his seat, his ears not really registering the first few movements of the piece as he waited for Marinette’s solo part.

As the Fossil movement ended with the tutti, the musicians turned page and waited for the young guest soloist to come out of the stage. Adrien held his breath.

And there she was, walking out to the center of the stage just beside the conductor. She had her head held high, a nervous smile on her lips. She looked around and spotted Adrien in the middle of the front row. Adrien smiled widely and winked at her. Marinette blushed, and then stood taller, confidence now replacing the nervousness on her mouth.

The piece started with a soothing series of rolled chords and rippling arpeggios from the harp, introducing the mood of the movement. Adrien watched as Marinette swayed with the music.


Marinette tucked her violin under her chin.


She lifted her bow.

Andante Grazioso

Adrien was hypnotized as the first three sweet notes drew him in. The lament of her instrument’s haunting tone pulled on his heart strings.

The music was breath-taking. From the highest crystal note to the lowest solid sound, each one was precise and detailed. He felt tension in the air as he anticipated the next melody. She bowed through the slurs of the notes, as smoothly as water flowing through a stream.

Passion, calmness, and unbreakable concentration were expressed on her face as she played.

It was like Marinette was crying in the piece. The song was titled The Swan, but to Adrien, it was so much more.

Here she was, the sweetest most cheerful girl he knew, playing her raw emotions in the violin. The ascending notes indicating hope, but as it fell back to the main melody, it was like it was no use.

Everything fell away and it was just him and her. She stood in front of him, several meters apart, but she was an eternity away from him. They were in a bare land, gray sky, and Marinette was standing on top of the lake. The image of an elegant swan and her overlapped.

As her notes shifted an octave higher, it was like reaching up to the sky, but she couldn’t because she was chained to the ground. She couldn’t because she had lost her ability to fly.

Gazing at her, he remembered an ancient belief.

The swan is the most beautiful of all creatures.

And so was Marinette. First glance, she was cute. But as he watched her every move, the contours of her body and the violin, the toned slender arms, her blue hair catching the light, he was knee deep in love with her.

Her beauty, her nature, just…her everything.

Everything was beautiful.

The swan is silent until its final moments in life.

Marinette had never spoken about her music until her last performance.

The swan sings the most beautiful of all bird songs.

Out of all the renditions that he had heard, nothing pierced through his heart like Marinette’s interpretation of the piece.

It was like it was a message to him.

A bittersweet message.

A message of goodbye?

Or perhaps…of love.

His eyes widened in realization.

“And it was then that I wondered…why I had not noticed before…”

She loved him.

But this was her farewell.

Was it too late?

I can’t believe I wrote this! This was so challenging! I hope you guys liked it! This can be read as a oneshot, but I’m thinking of writing a second part from Marinette’s POV.

Anyway, mini Adrienette moment there and such. Glad you read it! Listen to Joshua Bell’s rendition of this piece, okay? It’s AMAZING!

Again, Thank you @gloumelmed for letting me write it!