Finch - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
it's absurd to me how effective the Finch app is (not sponsored, obviously). like, will i take care of me? for my own sake? heavens no. i shall wallow instead đź’…
but for him? for this bird-themed assortment of pixels i got to name, gender, and customize into my son??? will i do little self-care tasks to check off so i can buy my bird-child outfits, furniture, feather/beak dyes, micro-pets; and give him the energy to go out on adventures so he can experience new things (like discovering he does not like The Three Little Pigs story) and develop a personality reactive to said experiences???? must i gamify my own needs and goals into fake money to provide for him?
yes. apparently, yes, i will stop wallowing and start taking care of myself— not for my own sake— but for my bird-son. and i am not going to shame myself for it, because nothing else has worked. and if having a self-care tamagotchi-neopet gets the job done? so be it. the brain works in mysterious ways
and if you think "hmm, maybe this will awaken something within me" now that you know this app exists? then this joke-post at my own expense will have been worth it lol (also, the app is free, though they do have a paid version that gives you extra goodies)
Finch app: [ android link ] ♡ [ iphone link ]
which btw, if you're like "im not really into that aesthetic tho :/ it's so cutesy and colorful" — may i introduce you to my sister-in-law's bird-child that she named Doodles? (posted with my SIL's consent)
we shared friend-codes and Sam is very sweet about sending Doodles over to my bird's nest with "gratitude", "flowers", "hugs", etc. but Sam also has been into goth and punk cultures ever since she was a teen, she loves horror and Halloween, she loves black and not too many other colors, and she's very sarcastic (and sweet lol). this app will be cutesy no matter what (and i love kitschy shit, so *i* like the overall aesthetic) but you can definitely customize things to still be very focused on what YOU like
so, again, if you think it could work for you: try it ♡
it's absurd to me how effective the Finch app is (not sponsored, obviously). like, will i take care of me? for my own sake? heavens no. i shall wallow instead đź’…
but for him? for this bird-themed assortment of pixels i got to name, gender, and customize into my son??? will i do little self-care tasks to check off so i can buy my bird-child outfits, furniture, feather/beak dyes, micro-pets; and give him the energy to go out on adventures so he can experience new things (like discovering he does not like The Three Little Pigs story) and develop a personality reactive to said experiences???? must i gamify my own needs and goals into fake money to provide for him?
yes. apparently, yes, i will stop wallowing and start taking care of myself— not for my own sake— but for my bird-son. and i am not going to shame myself for it, because nothing else has worked. and if having a self-care tamagotchi-neopet gets the job done? so be it. the brain works in mysterious ways
and if you think "hmm, maybe this will awaken something within me" now that you know this app exists? then this joke-post at my own expense will have been worth it lol (also, the app is free, though they do have a paid version that gives you extra goodies)
Finch app: [ android link ] ♡ [ iphone link ]
an unforseen product of this post is me being able to check myself on any "hold on, wait a second, did this app legitimately just— let me check my finch-tumblr-post to compare" feelings for any contrasting yet subtle changes lmao
like that today, instead of my usual "im a 3 out of 5 today 🫤" rating i plug in everytime (which it asks almost every time you check into the app, for those unaware), i picked a lower number. a "meh" level of nothing is just typically how i feel all day, p much everyday. and even just this very morning i said i was a 3 once again— but later today, it asked again, and i said i'd changed to just one notch of a lower-feeling mood (so a 2 out of 5). because i simply now had a migraine. a v persistent one unaffected by my migraine meds, making me sick; none of which i had this morning. a lower-mood makes sense
and the finch app gave me bursts of sympathy, and the big obvious sign of that was they rather predictably gave me a pop-up asking if i needed one of their (Emotional) First-Aid tools (which is reflection prompts to journal, the classic "name things related to your senses" check-in, and much more). which is kind, albeit again unsurprising. and i did decide to journal some, so if i check My Mood(TM) in the future, ill have a passage saying this lowered mood was triggered by a migraine
but the thing the app did that i had to check up against this very post's screenshots about:
is that?? it changed how much me accomplishing a task "pays me"?? assumedly, as a way of accounting for "these things will be harder for you to do if you don't feel well, so therefore we will give a bit more of a reward than usual for doing any of them". where, if you scroll up and look at my prior "to-do" checklist, it says everything will give a +5⚡️if i complete the task. and because my mood had changed to a 2 today, everything now has been upped to now say there is a +7⚡️reward for completion, which is such a thoughtful detail that i simply had to shout it out ♡
like.. wtf... devs, you bastards 🥺🥹🥺 (/tone-indicator: affectionate) you didn't have to do all that (but im so glad you did)
it's absurd to me how effective the Finch app is (not sponsored, obviously). like, will i take care of me? for my own sake? heavens no. i shall wallow instead đź’…
but for him? for this bird-themed assortment of pixels i got to name, gender, and customize into my son??? will i do little self-care tasks to check off so i can buy my bird-child outfits, furniture, feather/beak dyes, micro-pets; and give him the energy to go out on adventures so he can experience new things (like discovering he does not like The Three Little Pigs story) and develop a personality reactive to said experiences???? must i gamify my own needs and goals into fake money to provide for him?
yes. apparently, yes, i will stop wallowing and start taking care of myself— not for my own sake— but for my bird-son. and i am not going to shame myself for it, because nothing else has worked. and if having a self-care tamagotchi-neopet gets the job done? so be it. the brain works in mysterious ways
and if you think "hmm, maybe this will awaken something within me" now that you know this app exists? then this joke-post at my own expense will have been worth it lol (also, the app is free, though they do have a paid version that gives you extra goodies)
Finch app: [ android link ] ♡ [ iphone link ]
Y'all want to know what thought is fucking with me today?
Parrots can learn the concept of questions. I don't know about the claim that chimpanzees that were taught sign language never learned to ask questions, or the theory that it simply wouldn't occur to them that the human handlers might know things that they personally do not, or that whatever information they have might be worth knowing. But I don't even remember where I read that, and at best it's an anecdote of an anecdote, but anyway, parrots.
The exact complexity of natural parrot communication in the wild is beyond human understanding for the time being, but you can catch glimpses of how complex it is by looking at how much they learn to pick up from human speech. Sure, they figure out that this sound means this object, animal, person, or other thing. Human says "peanut" and presents a peanut, so the sound "peanut" means peanut. Yes. But if you make the same sound with a rising intonation, you are inquiring about the possibility of a peanut.
A bird that's asking "peanut?" knows there is no peanut physically present in the current situation, but hypothetically, there could be a peanut. The human knows whether there will be a peanut. The bird knows that making this specific human sound with this specific intonation is a way of requesting for this information, and a polite way of informing the human that a peanut is desired.
"I get a peanut?" is a polite spoken request. There is no peanut here, but there could be a peanut. The bird knows that the human knows this. But without the rising intonation of a question, the statement "I get a peanut." is a firm implied threat. There is no peanut here, but there better fucking be one soon. The bird knows that the human knows this.
Finches splashing in a birdbath!
Stinky little oc man named finch. He’s peeling the stickers off the Rubik’s cube
A friend and I went on magma today and messed around with pinup poses. His are the drawings on the left and mine is on the right (plus the kissin one). Really I was supposed to be doing a dictator or some person we both dislike but I ended up too tempted to make my oc. The death of Stalin doodles on the left he made had me dyin /pos
(He’s milesgloriosus on insta and his art is SO cool)
In the end this ended up lookin like those evil art style challenges where it’s too polar opposites
sending u a round 2 AS WELL
for any oc bc i wanna see who u pick >:)))
✏️ 🌺🌼💼
YIPPPEEEEE THANK YOU
✏️- I’m gonna choose finch because he gets the most attention out of any of my ocs. He’s my magnum opus. I’ve probably drawn him the most and have a bunch of one shots of him plus entire sheets to reference about his character. I yap about him so often to people it’s crazy.
🌼- this is hard bcs pretty much all my ocs go through different points in their life but choosing finch again he canonically only lives to be about 30
🌺- finch again! He’s basically hooked up with dudes all his life and had one off relationship but the closest one to like truly dating was with an oc of mine called seymour
đź’Ľ- kneelingmongrel used to be called Pav and worked on the docs lugging around shipments and equipment. Dockworker man.
I also have a guy that’s a pig farmer but he plays a VERY specific role in finch’s story :)
The ask game inspired me to leave some of my writing here. This is fairly old and only briefly edited but I still love it
The tv light was dim, nearly as unoffending as a night light to sleeping eyes when the brightness was cranked down.
A heavy hand carded through orange curls, the hours taken to remove the matting and nests within visibly paying off as strands slithered down his knuckles.
A bony, echoing knock rapped against the wood of the door. There was no hesitation to the taps but they carried a strange tone all the same. Like the person might have found it difficult to keep their hand there too long.
The towering man rose, languid, unrushed, child’s head eased off his leg. The absence privately mourned as the warmth of the air subtly brushed away the heated indent on his skin, drying off the perspiration on the back of his legs in the same breath.
He made his way to the front, door swung open, and there an older woman stood. She was only half his size if that and worse off than she was years ago. The last time she’d shown her face to the outskirts of the ol’ background town, she’d left him with a kid and a promise to get better.
Now though? Her eyes were sunken, bags prominent and sagging enough that one could imagine peeling her lids down so far as to run a finger between the bone and the rigid, glazed whites. The eyes themselves were uncomfortably pale in the night, rimmed by red.
She stood at his door, the sliver of a moon diving down into the deep of the cloud cover, and told him to bring out her child.
No, he said.
She raised her voice, and her finger waggled and jabbed at his chest. She had her yellowed teeth bared at him, voice grating over her throat when she suggested- threatened forcing past him into the home. Into the room Finch was set, slumbering shallowly on the old couch.
She took a step forward, body angled to the side where the door was hung open.
He could just smell her breath, rotten and putrid when she puffed.
Robin took his own pace towards her, rising from where he was leaned against the frame. Now he properly stood above her, mass blocking the doorway when he squared his arms to his sides.
She backtracked, feet hitting the dirt at strange angles as she backpedaled. She looked like a sickly animal, a dog with it’s chops twitching and bony bumped tail shuddering under its groin.
He would be quiet. Finch, in all his unshakable resilience, hated screams. The real gut curdling kind that swayed into wails, getting a few turned heads from coyotes and folks at the edges of the rural.
People in the community saw everything. Somebody always did. An environment where privacy was a thing you kept in the dysfunctional family of boarded window homes that lined the block. Everyone had one cracked pane of glass at the least.
The pig farmer would not not check on his pigs that dawn, assured by his brothers and his wife that the big man had done his community service, remnants of a big black garbage bag polished off by the swine come sun up.
The farmer would chortle and smack the splintered home table with a curse. It saved him a good few bucks on feed after all.
Later, in the sweltering heat of the midday, feet dangling off the fence of the pig pen, a red headed kid went tossing rotting carrots to the fat blotchy creatures.
As far as finch knows, his mother never came back for him.
Chances are I’ll write like two more one shots and throw them all on ao3 for fun
Looks like they can kill you, but is actually a cinnamon roll: Reese
Looks like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill you: Root
Looks like they could kill you, and could actually kill you:Â Shaw
Looks like a cinnamon roll, and actually is a cinnamon roll: Finch
Whoever at Hoyo decided to not give us these finches for our teapot I would like to have SEVERAL words with you
Seriously look at these guys like the jester one are we KIDDING
