swallowtailed

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it’s monday i’m in the labyrinth

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it rules to be a transgender writer because writing trans themes is easy as fuck. it's easy as fuck dude. trans themes basically write themselves. change is the fundamental motor of storytelling. guess what else is all about change bitch

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Next up: the heron! Another from this series.

#bird nerd #art #id in alt text

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The point of fiction is actually to put that guy in a situation™️, and he might try to tell you the point is to then get him out of the situation, WRONG, second situation

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Kalvin Brnine…. I hope you have to live

#fatt #palisade #undescribed

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a clip of Chant II from the Broadway previews of Hadestown, featuring the cut lines from Persephone and altered lyrics, as well as a earth-quake like “electric city” climax

#hadestown #ooooooooooo

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daily self-affirmations 💕

my podium is clean and not covered in spaghetti

i know that the 87th element on the periodic table is Francium

i am not trapped in the time loop

i know how to fix the ElectroBobbleWobble QZ

i am not trapped in the time loop

i have a sufficient number of boxes to reach the shelf of ducks

the wenis is a dance

i am not trapped in the time loop

the wenis is a dance

i am not trapped in the time loop

#dropout #:)

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libby overdrive is her full name

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“Lay Your Head on My Shoulder”

Yellow-crowned Night-Herons on the nest. Photo by Andy Clemens, reposted with permission.

#bird nerd #oh look at them…

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Tie a string around your finger, so you won't forget...

The Carolina Parakeet was declared extinct in 1939.

Up until just the year before, people were still claiming to have sighted the yellow-headed parakeets in the wild—in the impenetrable depths of Georgia's Okefenokee Swamp; along the Santee River basin of South Carolina, where people still search for the Ivory-Billed Woodpecker to this day—but evidence suggested only escaped, feral species of pet birds, tinged by wishful thinking.

The last definitively identified specimen of Conuropsis carolinensis, a male named Incas, had died at the Cincinnati Zoo in 1918. As it happens, his last home was the very same cage in which Martha, the endling Passenger Pigeon, had spent her final years. 2014, the hundredth anniversary of Martha's loss, brought the publication of a number of new books on the topic of the Passenger Pigeon and even a documentary; the centenary of Incas' death, by contrast, warranted only a handful of mentions of our lost native parrot.

Hardly a hundred years later, our parakeet has faded from common memory—like the fading text on the tags that twine around the feet of the study skins that fill museum specimen drawers, where they should have filled the sky, should have filled roosts in hollow trees, should have filled our backyards; should have filled their lungs with air, and our hearts and imaginations and eyes with the sight of their iridescent green feathers.

The title of this painting is Memory Knot. It is gouache on 18 x 13 inch paper, and is the 9th piece in my series on the extinct Carolina Parakeet. It is also the final piece in the series as originally conceived (though inspiration continues to strike, and this is not the last appearance the species will make in my art).

Please, remember that there was a bird called the Carolina Parakeet. Remember what happened to it. Remember that we are the only ones who can keep it from happening again.

#museums #museum people #bird nerd #art

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yes we laugh about laios’s answer here hahaha it’s not even a monster but. let’s not gloss over senshi

His favorite food is Hippogriff soup.

His deepest, darkest, most closely-held secret wasn’t just that he spent most of life never truly knowing if one of his companions fed him another one of their teammates in order to keep him alive.

It was also that he liked it. A lot.

His relief he felt wasn’t just the “oh thank god I’m not a cannibal” catharsis, it was also that he wouldn’t have to kill and eat another person just to eat this meal again.

How many times do you think he craved it over the years. How haunted was he by this. How hard was it for him to make friendships with other humans because of this. Is this why he was so comfortable living with orcs. He was so isolated that, even living on an island with a decent half-foot population, he didn’t even know what they were.

#dungeon meshi #ah.

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jet lag: the game moments i think about a lot — 1/?

S03E01 : (almost) everything ben discussed on his train ride to lille

#WAIT THIS IS IT #god. okay. i saw this gifset like four weeks ago and thought hmm i wonder what this is #i have now watched i think all but one of their seasons. #and am rewatching while i wait for next season. #anyway. salutes this gifset. #undescribed #jet lag

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Nice consequences, did your actions pick them out for you ?

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ali playing brnine like a car she stole and wanted to drive off a cliff but then it began to fly

#please look at the replies im wheezing #fatt #palisade

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I heard nothing is stationary—well, it’s never been more clear.

Transcript:

Austin (as Parti): …that’s what I’m saying, I’m saying it’s not just a mentality, it’s like—it’s a structure that keeps people, it—no, it produces mentality, it doesn’t just…

One second, I think—I think we’re live. I think the signal’s up again. Hello? Hello? Are you hearing us? Hello, Palisade. Hello, Twilight Mirage. Hello, Qui Err Coalition. You know what? Hello to the Bilateral Intercession! I know you hate to hear us, [singsong] but we’re back!

Back in the lab again, back finding mixtures and fixes for shit you done mixed up. Back in Black’s chair, back at his microphone. I wish he could see it—the colors, the tone, the skies all rhinestones. I’m sorry, I’m stoned, just a little. A little goes a long way here on our new home. A little ripple in the middle of war. I saw a missile transformed into straw hospital filled, but it’s hard to ignore that the sky’s on fire with light.

Yes, they name me Particular Emphasis, but there’s a party up in here. I heard nothing is stationary—well, it’s never been more clear. We’re moving on them now, and it’s up for them. It ain’t even really close. ’Bout to hit the lick then take home [singsong] a full seven notes. So let me check mine, ’cause I know that I got some shit to say before small things grow big, before tomorrow turns yesterday.

This one’s for Baldwin, for Black Screen—all caps, please. This one’s for Phrygian, who’s between the fuse and the bomb. This one’s for the figure in our hearts who I hope is finally calm. This one’s for those who’ve had their names stripped away, or with names we never say, or with many names, multivalence, but committed in each to snatching they chains today.

Nah, you know what? This one’s just for me. If you’re listening, Bilats, let me tell you what I see. We are ungettable, unforgettable, unfuck-wit-able. And we’re really cute—we are unmistakable, undebatable, and we don’t even need a backing track to do what we ’bout to do.

(by @sacredwhim)

#fatt #palisade

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narratively I am a fan of romances that don’t ever actually become romances

I don’t mean in an aromantic life partner way, I mean romantic tension that is never resolved or acted upon for whatever reason but by the end it’s clear that both characters experienced the love of their lives without ever acknowledging it as such. but they know. they know.

#right balence. #fatt #partizan

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had an au thought and ran with it o/

#dungeon meshi #undescribed #that’s love.