#parrot care guide

[tiktokparrot]

Parrot Diarrhea: Causes, Symptoms, and Treatment

Learn all about parrot diarrhea—its causes, symptoms, and treatment options. Discover how to help your parrot recover quickly and stay healthy. Read more now!

[rxttenfish]

Merfolk Relationship Hierarchy

Merfolk are hypersocial macropredators. This shouldn't be new information to anyone on my blog, but the sheer extent of merfolk sociability cannot be overstated. Their social nature is the entire reason they were able to become and specialize into macropredatory niches in the way that they have. Their close relatives, the leviathans, are an excellent example of what merfolk might have become if they didn't have their intense communal proclivities — being much more typical, expected examples of a secondarily aquatic large marine predator akin to marine reptiles of the past and whales of the present. Without their social bindings, merfolk might have entirely lost their hands for flippers, would lack their heightened connection to sound and language, and certainly wouldn't have shaped the ecosystems and the world they inhabit in the same way.

For this, merfolk relationships are complicated. They started as a way of forming a simple hunting group and handling life in large colonies, but as merfolk specialized further, so too did their relationships. More and more they focused on interpersonal politics and the complications of maintaining a large social group that was constantly evolving and shifting, which fostered the growth of their intelligence and sapience, which then led back even moreso into needing the ability to maintain and keep up with their relationships.

A merfolk in isolation is not a merfolk at all. While the exactness of this thought varies across their different cultures, it still holds true for all of them. On a literal level, merfolk can and do die of loneliness, their social needs as much of a requirement to them as the need for food or water. If you were to isolate a merfolk, to the point where they could not hear nor see anyone else, then they would endure a brutal one or two weeks, and then die. Every other need can be met, they can be otherwise entirely healthy, but without anyone else around, they cannot live.

On the more metaphorical level, a merfolk cannot exist solely on their own. Most merfolk cultures accept that the individual does not exist, and that there has to be some outside dialogue with other merfolk in order for them to even be alive. The self and identity are inherently plural to them, a multifaceted soul which exists in the bodies and lives of merfolk in a group, and which can't be broken down. Maintaining relationships and fostering them is as essential as feeding yourself, or feeding someone else.

For all of this, merfolk require much higher amounts of social interaction and connection. This is not to say that introverted merfolk do not exist, but they would be introverted by the measure of their fellow merfolk, and not by what humans might judge them to be. Much like how even the most introverted human could not endure the life of a solitary snake or spider, an introverted merfolk could not endure the life of an introverted human. Similarly, even an extroverted human could not compare against an extroverted merfolk.

Likewise, not every social interaction is the same to merfolk, and they maintain different emotional connections with different people, fulfilling a wider assortment of social needs. In fact, it is easiest to think of merfolk social structure as being like one large, interwoven, piece of lace, where each individual merfolk is represented by a single knot. They are all tied together into larger pieces, repeating patterns, all working together to create a singular, complex web of all the ways every merfolk is connected to every other merfolk.

For this, merfolk have different names for each different pattern, each different part at different scales and sizes. All are important, even if some are closer and tied nearer to the individual merfolk in question, and require greater maintenance to keep healthy.

These patterns and connections are, by far, what is most important to a merfolk. While merfolk are fully capable of experiencing platonic, familial, romantic, and sexual connections, it should be stated that this is not what the relationship hierarchy is based off of. They might be a part of that connection, but the connection itself and the place it occupies within the hierarchy is of far greater importance to a merfolk, to the extent that all else pales before it. Any point and connection within this web might be platonic, or familial, or romantic, but even a romantic connection to a merfolk might mean nothing against a platonic or familial connection if the latter outranks the former on their hierarchy of relationships.

Hence, from the smallest unit to the largest, this is (approximately) what the merfolk hierarchy of relationships looks like:

Yuu'itv + Ul’kiha

This can be thought of as the singular knot, as the individual merfolk themselves. This is what is most familiar to landfolk, as it typically does not refer to any more than one merfolk.

To the merfolk themselves, however, this is more theoretical and functional than a real part of their relationship hierarchy to be maintained. This is the building block of identity, the pieces which make up one true self, but pieces which are not as concerning or deserving of as much time as the selfhood itself.

The exception, as you might have noticed, is the inclusion of ul'kiha at this rung. Ul'kiha (in the common-technical language) is loosely translated as the water that runs through someone's gills, but in the plural. Less literally, it refers to a shared breath, a breathing as one. A shared body, in less flowery terms. Soulmates, in the easiest localization.

In short, an ul'kiha is another merfolk and individual who is so close to another merfolk that they are thought of as one person. A plural-becoming-singular, if you might. Other merfolk will treat two ul'kiha as the same person, talk to them as the same person, view their relationships to them as one person. It represents the tightest, closest bond any merfolk can have.

For this, ul'kiha are rare. Most merfolk will never take an ul'kiha in their lives, and for those that do, taking more than one is next to unheard of. Ul'kiha is, likewise, the only instance where a rung in the relationship hierarchy is solely romantic, and the only true crossover between the relationship hierarchy and humanity's views on relationships. While half of ul'kiha will refuse to take any other romantic partner, this is not comparable to marriage either, as the intensity of this connection could be thought of as codependent in a way that's natural for merfolk but doesn't occur in human relationships. While ul'kiha can split up, if one ul'kiha dies and the other doesn't, the living partner is expected to never take another ul'kiha again, and quite often the loss is enough to kill them too.

Miivt'ia

These are the first few knots the initial knot is tied to, and the first true rung on the relationship hierarchy.

In a sense, the miivt'ia is a merfolk's inner circle. These are the people who they are closest to in their lives, who they have a unique and potent bond with. A miivt'ia, likewise, is a group which is exclusive to itself, and all the members of a miivt'ia will feel the same way about each other, and count themselves in each other's miivt'ia.

The closest example we might have to what a miivt'ia is would be the concept of a friend polycule. None of the members inside a miivt'ia are exclusively platonic, familial, romantic, nor sexual with each other, but they have a tight and exclusive bond which is solely shared amongst each other. In fact, each member of the miivt'ia might feel differently about every other member of the miivt'ia and have their own, unique dynamic with every other member, but all are united in the closeness given by being members of the miivt'ia.

Miivt'ia are often formed right as a merfolk is first growing up. Family members can be included in the miivt'ia, but not always, and those included are almost always siblings, cousins, or others who are similarly close in age. Childhood friendships that begin to deepen often become a part of the miivt'ia, as are the most serious of relationships. However, miivt'ia can also be created outside of these formative years, and there are many miivt'ia that essentially act like guilds or a "family" business, being closer than mere coworkers but sharing the same job.

Miivt'ia are the people with whom a merfolk has near-constant contact with. They are expected to live together, and often will share the same job, or similar jobs. All of their personal belongings are considered as belonging to the miivt'ia over any individual, and legally the miivt'ia is the individual upon which laws apply to. A merfolk without a miivt'ia is effectively homeless, and spiritually merfolk consider the miivt'ia to be the soul. Merfolk that go through the Coral Festival (Habp'll pl'qe ane'jhe Oikahj) will go through it together with their miivt'ia. Any children the miivt'ia has or adopts is considered the child of everyone else in the miivt'ia, the members all acting as parents and considering themselves equally as responsible in the care for that child. Miivt'ia are not only expected to be constantly in contact with each other and to participate in everything together, but they are expected to care equally about every other member of the miivt'ia and to feel each other's emotions as one.

For all of this, merfolk are highly loyal to their miivt'ia and will defend the members of their miivt'ia with their life. Any threat to any other member of the miivt'ia is considered a direct threat to all other members and to the individual merfolk's lives, and the loss of any member of the miivt'ia is mourned by all others to the highest degree.

There is a lot of responsibility placed upon those included in the miivt'ia, but the miivt'ia also has an emotional closeness and intimacy that isn't shared by any other merfolk in the relationship hierarchy (except the ul'kiha, see above). Being too overtly close and intimate with a merfolk can be seen as not respecting the miivt'ia and be seen as a threat to the security of the miivt'ia. Likewise, if someone wishes to join a miivt'ia, they will often endure a "courting" phase with all the members of the miivt'ia, where they attempt to forge connections equally as close to and intimate with every other member.

Dhe'jny'p usae

If the miivt'ia was the smallest initial pattern any relationship can have in the larger weave, then the dhe'jny'p usae is the actual shape of that pattern, when something becomes not just an oval, but a petal on a flower.

Dhe'jny'p usae, in common-technical language, is closest translated to "drift family". Humans might recognize the dhe'jny'p usae as being something similar to friends. They are not as close as the miivt'ia, but they might represent the next nearest thing, being a close emotional connection with associated responsibilities. The dhe'jny'p usae would be the closest other miivt'ia to the existing miivt'ia, acting as neighbors or close-knit family. If the miivt'ia had children, then they would be expected to provide care and look after those children alongside their own, and would cycle wider, communal responsibilities with the miivt'ia. Miivt'ia and members of the miivt'ia would hang out with and spend a lot of time with their dhe'jny'p usae, and this forms the base of wider merfolk sociability.

While the dhe'jny'p usae would be excluded from the private, domestic matters of the miivt'ia, they might still be gone to for emotional reassurance, or to simply have someone to talk to. Dhe'jny'p usae are expected to help in providing food for each other, and will switch out communal duties that require a layer of intimacy with each other, and legally are considered very similar entities. While they wouldn't share all personal belongings like the miivt'ia, they might share what counts for money, and be responsible for dividing it up among themselves. Dhe'jny'p usae, likewise, might live together in larger communal houses and share chores among themselves, but this might be considered closer to the individual members of a household, and its not as intensely expected for them to live together as the miivt'ia.

Dhe'jny'p usae are likewise the most common place to find what we might think of as typical merfolk romantic relationships. Dhe'jny'p usae more easily come and go, leaving and entering a merfolk's life, not solely remaining there for life like the miivt'ia, and for that, it's not uncommon for merfolk to have romantic and sexual relationships with their dhe'jny'p usae.

Faa'nek hus'llu

If the dhe'jny'p usae were the equivalent to people living in the same house, the faa'nek hus'llu is closer to the neighbors. These are acquaintances, support-friends, those that they are close to, though they maintain a degree of separation. If the dhe'jny'p usae was a flower, then this is the daisy chain, the interlocking patterns which form a distinct function.

More than anything else, the faa'nek hus'llu can be thought of as the connective tissue. They bridge the gap between the intensely bound and closely connected dhe'jny'p usae and miivt'ia, and the wider social community of merfolk. They do not bear the brunt of the emotional responsibility and are free to come and go in any merfolk's life as they please, but there is still a degree of familiarity here, a sense of belonging. While dhe'jny'p usae might live in the same communal house, faa'nek hus'llu live in the same town, neighborhood, community. The responsibilities they bear are far more physical, often serving as shifting turns for communal guard or repair duties, ensuring that everyone gets their turn taking care of everyone else.

The downside is that faa'nek hus'llu enjoy far less emotional connection and intimacy. What is shared and offered is far more obvious and physical, and far less detailed than that which other, closer relationships would receive. They might know someone is tired, and they might know someone is in grief after losing a member of their miivt'ia, but they wouldn't be able to navigate the emotional complexity beneath that. Trying to do so can be seen as a threat, either to your own dhe'jny'p usae and miivt'ia, or to theirs, demanding familiarity which has not been earned nor received.

A'antiu Muur'l

This is the far end of any merfolk's immediate social connections. The a'antiu muur'l is not merely the knot, nor the petal, nor the flower, nor the daisy chain, but the sides of the lace itself, the largest part that fits together with all others.

This is the community as a whole. It is a town, a city, a city-block, more of a legal entity than a social one but a social one nonetheless. The a'antiu muur'l is far more location-based than the other rungs on the relationship hierarchy, and merfolk only truly change their a'antiu muur'l with a change of physical location. The a'antiu muur'l is the community from which community names are given, and the a'antiu muur'l is to the commonfolk what a royal lineage is to a royal.

The a'antiu muur'l in common-technical best translates to "song family", and to a merfolk, this is because it is intended to include everyone that a single merfolk might hear at any given time. They are strangers to the individual merfolk, sure, but they are all singing together and speaking at the same time, and working to build the same song together to flesh out life and the place in which they live, so there is a degree of emotional connection. It is abstracted emotional connection, yes, but it is emotional connection all the same.

Merfolk might even include physical landmarks as part of their a'antiu muur'l, such as in the case of their singing buildings, or for a particularly endearing local landmark. This can include a large reef, or mountain, or entire mountain range, but so too can it include the one weird shady area where all the kids hang out that the adults don't want them near.

Ghray Uw'ghta Faahl

In common-technical language, the ghray uw'ghta faahl means "all-body". It is far more theoretical than the others, being spoken of to promote a sense of universal connection, but is not something that's quite so easily envisioned in turn.

In essence, the ghray uw'ghta faahl refers to all merfolk. All of their connections, each a'antiu muur'l, each faa'nek hus'llu, each dhe'jny'p usae, each miivt'ia, and each yuu'itv. Each and every merfolk is included, down through time, because each and every merfolk has had an emotional connection, and thus each and every merfolk fits into the ghray uw'ghta faahl.

Thus, the responsibilities here are far more abstracted, and far more represent the responsibilities all merfolk have to each other. This includes their hospitality culture, yes, but far moreso it includes a sense a dignity and a need to recognize that each merfolk has someone else and belongs somewhere within the ghray uw'ghta faahl. It's a source of recognition, and of community, and of understanding.

How much it actually fulfills that role, as ever, varies, but the thought and theory and gesture is still there, all the same.

[yourbirdscare]

Amazon Parrot Care for Beginner Owners

A group of parrot species from South and Central America are together referred to as Amazon parrots. Ten of the more than thirty species of Amazons are frequently kept as pets. The body color of most Amazon parrots is green. They can have different coloured feathers on their heads, such as red, lilac, yellow, blue, purple, or more, depending on the species. Some have multi-coloured beaks, tail feathers, and shoulders. With proper care, these medium-to-large birds can survive for several decades. If you want a tamer, less chattering bird, they need regular care, a diversified diet, space, exercise, and training. Many creatures can mimic and speak fairly well. Read More...

[herstarburststories]

The Cage (Joe Goldberg x Reader)

Pairing: Joe Goldberg x reader

Summary: Joe puts you in the cage after you've seen him in an incriminating situation. He comes back to check on you, and ends up facing a pleasurable situation: you, masturbating in the cage.

Warnings: masturbation, kidnapping, sexual thoughts, smut, unhealthy behavior. It's YOU, ya know what to expect.

A/N: My 1st YOU story! It had to be messed up smut. No specific season here.Please reblog and comment. Hope you guys like it!

You used to have a bird when you were younger.

A parrot. His bright colors seemed to speak under the sunlight when he landed next to you. His wing looked funny, what was later discovered to be broken. That small detail was the perfect excuse to convince you dad to keep the bird.

You named Jorge and took him home.

Jorge was so little, so helpless.

You never put him in a cage, even when your dad brought one because housebirds are meant to be caged, or so he said. — which wasn't much of a surprised. He thought the same about your mom or any housewives. Their cage was just different.

But, you didn't let him get his way. You stomped your feet and threw the prison away. Birds were supposed to be free.

Plus, you related to Jorge in that sense. Everyone, the whole planet seemed to believe that women should be put in cages, in boxes, in any place that could contain them, patronize them. Because the patriarchal cry babies thought that they were too savage, too emotional. A danger to society.

Those people never seem to notice that every single disaster was orchestrated by men's hands.

Colonization, religious intolerance, wars, pseudo prophets, and so it goes.

Anyway, you didn't let the tiny bird get caged, and asked him to promise to take you and fly you away if someone ever tried to do that to you.

It may seem childish, irrational even, but you can't help looking around and hoping Jorge would appear and save you from the cage.

Joe's cage.

Alright, yes. You had many feminist criticism towards how men attempted to force women into fitting their irralistic, many times porn guided caged vision of feminiality. But this wasn't what you mean by that!

Joe Goldberg had a fucking cage! And you were in there: trapped like a hopeless animal.

What did he plan to do with you? Were you going to die? How long would he leave you there without food or water? How were you going to do your basic needs? How would you survive this?

''How did I end up here?" you asked your reflection on the glass. ''You know how, idiot.''

You groaned, hitting the wall in frustration. It wasn't your fault, you knew it. The old cliché, wrong person at the wrong place during the wrong time, all the wrongs in the world wrapped in a pretty lace. Although, the guilty for not knowing better held you tight, it was like you couldn't even breathe.

You needed some relief.

Joe's POV

He sighed, unlocking the door with his free hand whilst holding your meal with the other one. Joe closed his eyes as the door opened with a loud noise, preparing himself to hear your scream and shout. He didn't want to do that! Not to you at least. Joe just wanted to take care of you, to make you see him how he saw you: entirely.

But really, what else could he have done? You saw him with blood on his shirt and a huge bag.

When the man didn't hear your voice, he opened her eyes and arched his eyebrows.

Maybe you understood why I had to do this, Y/N. Always knew you were different, my love.

Joe locked the door again and kept the keys in his pocket, taking the stairs to meet you.

Or, I could be wrong and you could've managed to get out of the cage and be just there, waiting to attack me. You're smart, I wouldn't put it past you.

The closer he gets, the quiet it sounds. The only music is the own stairs crackling under his steps.

But, you know me, Y/N. I'm a true hopeless romantic. What can I say? I still believe. I believe in us. And you'll too, baby.

And then, just like the first flicker of dawn, he heard the most beautiful song coming out of your mouth, a melody that could put Beethoven to shame.

Wait. Are you? Y/N, are you moaning?

He walked faster towards you until he saw a blissful scene unrolling right in front of his eyes: you, laying in the mattress that he put in there, your eyes shut and legs spread open.

Is this a little show you are putting out for me? Well, you got all my attention now, Y/N.

He placed the food on the floor, captivated by the look on your face. There was pleasure in every corner of the cage, your whiny moans increasing as you rubbed your clit.

This what happens when I leave you alone, Y/N?

Your other hands is also occupied, teasing your nipple and squeezing your boob as a finger enters your wet pussy. So needy, pace increasing at each second.

Fuck. You look so hot. I want to get in there, take care of you, touch you, make love to you.

Already used to living in delusion, Joe easily loses his mind in the fantasy: picturing himself in there with you, memorizing your body, fucking you open, hearing your moans directed to him, coming inside you.

You just needed a way to ease your racing mind. There were too many questions, too many deep high fears. Everything was too much in this small place. Similar to animals in cages that go crazy in attempts to get out there and run back to nature. You didn't want to go this far, not to touch you in here as it's a sort of motel and not a hostage situation. Still, masturbation was very proficient to blow off some esteem and get you thinking straight.

Extreme situations call for extrame measures.

Nonethless, you didn't expect to open your eyes to see Joe, also masturbating in front of you.

There's no denying that you that you used to find Joe attractive. Tall, strong jaw, pretty smile, gentle, and dark hair. You thought that this perspective had gone away once he knocked you out with some drug in napkin and you woke up here.

Apparently, it didn't. Not even when he left you there during hours because now he came back.

And he's glancing at you, his hand moving up and down on his erected length.

How long was he there?

Doesn't matter.

A moan escapes at the sight. His hard cock with precum on the tip, while he thrusts in his tight hold and glares at you like he could eat your soul.

You don't doubt that.

There's more than just excitement, there's horror and danger and woe and fear and anxiety laced together in burning red. You want to scream at him in both anger and need, but right now you add another finger to your core, fucking yourself as he tries to get his own liberation. Yearning, yearning.

When Joe howls your name, you can't help but to cum as you glance into his eyes with no shame, too caught up to do anything but to get turned on.

He comes right after you.

His twisted mind whispers that's the most romantic act.

[nobigsecrets]

BuckTommy Fic Recs - Part 2 | Part 1

but sweet kisses i’ve got to spare by @26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat Rating: M, Words: 5,692 it’s 2 AM. tommy’s in pain. buck is the guy who likes to fix things.

the more you know by winterbucky (WinterLadyy) Rating: E, Words: 1,946 Tommy's nearing his 40s. He knows himself, experimented, learned his kinks and likes. There's not a lot that can surprise him. This is exactly why his reaction to Evan in a uniform, holding a clipboard, shocks the hell out of him. Thankfully, he has a caring boyfriend who's just as into this whole thing as Tommy is. or: tommy sees uniformed buck and ends up on his knees, calling him "sir" because you always can learn more about yourself. feat dirty talk, face fucking, leg humping, and a lot of softness

caught in the way you got me by @gaytommykinard Rating: E, Words: 2,465 Tommy’s brain short-circuits for a moment. He watches as Amalia slides up to him and he puts an arm around her shoulders, and they’re both looking at him kind of expectantly and he catches on only with seconds to spare before she asks, “You wanna come home with us?” (Threesome fic, Tommy/OFC/ OMC)

Tommy Kinard's Guide To The Best (And Worst) Places To Take A Nap by @salty-autistic-writer Rating: G, Words: 2,780 Tommy naps a lot. He’s not picky about where he’s taking his naps. But some places are better than others.

A Full-Body Workout by Persiflager Rating: E, Words: 7,901 When Tommy turns back to Eddie he finds Eddie giving him a knowing look. “Laundry and meal prep, huh?”

Big strong fireman boyfriend by @janekburza Rating: E, Words: 8,640 Tommy is a bottom. With his posture it’s hard to tell and not the first thing people think when looking at him. It doesn’t help that he likes to take charge and be more dominant in bed. Meeting Evan, as tall as him, as wide as him, made him hope that they’ll be compatible in this. Because Buck’s posture doesn’t take his adorableness away, and Tommy can work with that. Will their freaks match each other? (Of course.) Or: Sex positive look at Tevan’s relationship in season 7.

You’ve Got Me Up in a Frenzy by @emphasisonthehomo Rating: E, Words: 19,499 Between one breath and the next they pull apart. Tommy’s stomach is in knots. He keeps his eyes closed for just a second longer. Just to savor it. Before he needs to look at Evan and find out if he truly ruined this or not. OR Tommy seems more confident than he is.

Shattered Steel by @lovetommyactually Rating: M, Words: 3,041 Buck’s world came back in flashes. Pain—sharp and burning, radiating through his arm. Muffled voices. The distinct smell of metal and blood. A whisper—no, a voice he knew. A voice he loved.

AITA for trying to get my coworker and his ex back together? by @aringofsalt Rating: T, Words: 1,179 Some backstory: I (31M) have been at my job for about four years. My coworker B (30sM) is one of the boss's favourites, and has spent a lot of time hazing me, even after I passed my probation. He's a bit better now, but I've never considered him to be a particularly close coworker, let alone friend. Ravi turns to Reddit.

pinch-hit hero by @ashesandhalefire Rating: E, Words: 35,195 the one where Tommy is a veteran porn star, Buck makes a wish, and Chim calls in another favor

got my head checked by a jumbo jet by @beanarie Rating: G, Words: 5,254 "Natalia," Bobby parrots blankly. It's very unlike him. "I mean, I know we haven't been together long. I don't expect her to be here. But we- we probably had plans. I don't want her to- to think I ghosted her." Bobby leans forward in his chair. "Buck, what's the last thing you remember?" Buck's stomach does a flip. "Why."

leave that vision of hell to the dying by @26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat Rating: T, Words: 28,581 evan buckley's professional life as he knew it was over after he was struck by lightning. one year later, he makes a discovery that electrifies his life all over again. or: the forever young (1992) not-quite-au with cap trilogy & the shape of water vibes that's had me in a chokehold for less than a week. featuring man out of time!tommy kinard, too much trash, and a buck who is enough, just by being buck.

White Noise by @lovetommyactually Rating: M, Words: 5,900 Tommy never meant to chase after the call—he certainly never meant to get buried under a crumbling house with too many regrets and a body giving out beneath him. But one bad feeling led to a collapse, a broken leg, and a 9-1-1 call he almost didn’t make. With Maddie on the line and the 118 closing in, Tommy confronts more than just the pain.

the crash is coming soon by @screamlet Rating: M, Words: 3,926 "I just got put on administrative leave, pending an investigation." Tommy takes a shaky breath. "Can I stay at your place for a while?" (Post episode 8x15)

tomorrow never knows by jamesandanthony Rating: G, Words: 2,207 "Hello?" "Buck?" The voice scratches at Tommy's brain, familiar enough that he feels he should recognise it. "He's sleeping, can I help?" "Oh, good, I wasn't sure if he still had the same number," the voice says and suddenly it clicks. "Abby?" he says quietly, something like panic rising in his throat. (Post episode 8x15)

The Least Vulnerable Spot by @rcmclachlan Rating: T, Words: 4,405 Tommy doesn't attend the memorial procession. It's kind of Buck's fault.

in your (our) corner by @screamlet Rating: M, Words: 11,218 Sometimes, running is the answer. (Post episode 8x17)

[hellyeahscarleteen]

Maybe you’ve noticed: there’s been a shift in how people and movements that are anti-trans present themselves, and it feels designed to make them more palatable to people who would otherwise recoil at arguments that position trans people as threats. They don’t hate trans people! They’re very concerned about them! Think of the risks! Think of the children!! If that language sounds familiar, it’s because the anti-abortion movement uses this same playbook. Just like a crisis pregnancy center might advertise itself as offering pre-natal care, counseling or free pregnancy tests, an anti-trans provider might offer “gender exploratory” therapy or claim to offer valuable information on the “harms” of transition. Just like reporters being too willing to parrot unsubstantiated, anti-choice claims to the greater public, anti-trans groups are using places like the New York Times—and the fact that many people within those spaces were already held anti-trans beliefs-- to spread misinformation and position their “experts” as the reliable voices on trans care. Quite contrary to articles that claim people are being rushed through transition, accessing gender affirming care remains difficult for most people, especially young people. There are a limited number of places that provide it (and, due to transphobic violence both digital and physical, some of the places that used to aren’t able to anymore), waiting lists, and a dozen other barriers to access. Not to mention that plenty of elements of transition, especially physical transition, require at least a letter from a therapist. And now, on top of that, you have healthcare providers and resources who seek only to discourage or pressure all trans and nonbinary folks into not transitioning. This is a recipe for trans folks, or the people helping them access care, to walk right into a trap, and enables ongoing, anti-trans bias more broadly. Here's a guide from Scarleteen co-director Sam Wall to help trans people, and especially, adults in the lives of trans young people, to identify legitimate — and illegitimate — sources of trans care.

[solxamber]

Omg, uh sorry if this is filling up your inbox! You can take your time with this anytime! Pls take care of urself if u feel sad (Romantic btw :3)

Savanaclaw and Scarabia with a silly reader who owns a circus and stuff— they act all innocent and stupid and silly, but are actually really good at being mature and responsible and smart (emotionally and intelligently). And, They always have some extremely shocking stories to tell, like that one time where they and Falena are friends and how their family has some history with the al-asims.. oh the list can go on!...

can u see what I see ☹️☹️

Savanaclaw, Scarabia with a Silly but mature! reader

i think i see your vision anon 🫡 Thank you for the request!

also the inbox is open for all requests, there's no need to be sorry!

Leona Kingscholar

Leona was lounging under a tree, as usual, his eyes half-closed as you plopped down beside him. You had that mischievous smile again, and he braced himself for whatever nonsense you were about to spout.

“Leona, did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally declared myself queen of a lost kingdom? Oh yeah, I was leading a parade for my circus when we stumbled upon this hidden city in the desert. They hadn’t seen outsiders in centuries, and for some reason, they thought my outfit meant I was royalty. Long story short, I ruled for a day—had a crown and everything.”

Leona cracked an eye open, staring at you. “You? A queen?”

“Yep. But don’t worry, I abdicated the next morning. Told them it wasn’t for me. Too much responsibility, you know?” You laughed, completely at ease, as if you hadn’t just described one of the most ridiculous situations ever.

Leona groaned. “You’ve gotta be making this stuff up.”

“Nope! 100% true. I even have pictures of the royal llama they gave me as a parting gift.” You winked, leaving Leona wondering whether you were serious or just really good at telling tall tales.

But later that day, a real problem cropped up in Savanaclaw. Some of the younger students had gotten into a fight, and it was escalating fast. Leona, grumbling, was about to step in when you, with a surprisingly firm tone, intervened.

“Hey! Knock it off!” you commanded, standing between the feuding students with a calm but authoritative air. “Fighting’s not going to solve this. You need to talk it out—what’s going on?”

To Leona’s surprise, they actually stopped. You took each of them aside, patiently listening and guiding them to a resolution, diffusing the situation before it could spiral. Once things calmed down, you turned back to Leona with a smile, as if nothing unusual had happened.

“See? All it takes is a bit of patience.”

Leona stared at you, genuinely impressed. “You’re... not as dumb as you act, are you?”

“Only when it’s convenient,” you replied, your grin back in full force. But there was a warmth behind your eyes, a quiet confidence that made Leona’s chest tighten. For once, he didn’t have a sarcastic comeback, just a lingering thought that maybe you were a lot more than you seemed.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie was used to your wild stories by now, but every time you shared one, it still left him shaking his head in disbelief. Today, you were telling him about one of your most outlandish adventures yet.

“So, Ruggie, did I ever mention the time I accidentally joined a pirate crew? My circus got shipwrecked on this random island, and before I knew it, I was swabbing the deck of a pirate ship. They thought I was this legendary thief, and I just rolled with it. Spent the whole month trying to convince them to switch to legal trade—pretty sure I turned them into a merchant fleet by the end.”

Ruggie almost choked on his snack. “You? A pirate? No way.”

“True story! They even gave me a parrot. Named him Biscuit.” You grinned like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Ruggie shook his head, laughing. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

But not long after, a real problem popped up. One of the younger students in Scarabia had been short on money, and there was a mix-up with their scholarship. The kid was panicking, unsure how to fix it. While Ruggie was good at hustling, this wasn’t his field of expertise. He figured the situation was about to get messy.

Then you stepped in, calmly talking to the student. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Let me help.”

You guided the student through the bureaucratic mess, making calls, filling out forms, and working things out with Scarabia’s administration. By the end of it, everything was sorted, and the student left with a grateful smile.

“You handled that like a pro,” Ruggie commented, impressed. He hadn’t expected you to know your way around serious issues like that.

“Sometimes life throws you curveballs, and you’ve gotta handle them with a cool head,” you said with a wink. “I’ve got practice from managing a circus, after all.”

Ruggie chuckled, but the admiration in his eyes was clear. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Good surprises, I hope?”

“The best kind,” Ruggie grinned, feeling his heart skip a beat. You might act goofy, but there was something about you that kept pulling him in.

Jack Howl

Jack was used to your carefree attitude by now, but your stories never failed to catch him off guard. Today, you were regaling him with a tale so absurd he didn’t even know how to respond.

“So, Jack, did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally tamed a dragon? It’s true! I was performing in a mountain village when this dragon showed up, all angry and roaring. Turns out, he had a thorn in his foot. Once I pulled it out, we became best buds. He even gave me a ride back home.”

Jack slowed his jog, staring at you incredulously. “You’re telling me you... tamed a dragon? Just like that?”

“Yep! He was actually really sweet once he wasn’t in pain. Kinda like a giant puppy.” You laughed, completely unfazed by how insane the story sounded.

Jack shook his head, half-impressed, half-baffled. “You’re something else.”

But later, when a real problem cropped up—a couple of first-years lost their way in the forest near campus—your goofy demeanor melted away, replaced by a calm, focused attitude. Jack was ready to run in headfirst, but you stopped him.

“Wait, Jack. If we charge in, we might get lost too. Let’s think this through.”

You took a moment to assess the situation, coming up with a plan that involved splitting up into small, safe search parties. You helped guide the students back, your calm leadership reassuring everyone involved.

Jack was impressed. “You... really know how to handle things when it matters.”

You smiled softly, shrugging. “I guess when you’ve been through enough crazy stuff, you learn how to stay calm.”

Jack couldn’t help but admire you. You might be goofy, but you had a strong sense of responsibility underneath it all. And, more than anything, he liked that you didn’t lose your lightheartedness, even when things got tough.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Jack muttered, a little flustered.

You grinned. “Just doing my best. But thanks, Jack.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was always delighted by your stories, and today, you had another one to tell that had him practically bouncing in excitement.

“So, Kalim, did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally became the head chef for an underwater banquet? We were traveling with the circus near a coastal city, and somehow, I got mistaken for a famous sea chef. Next thing I knew, I was cooking for a bunch of merfolk. It wasn’t too bad, except for the fact that the main course was supposed to be jellyfish. Do you know how hard it is to cook jellyfish?”

Kalim’s eyes went wide with fascination. “No way! What did you do?”

“Well, I just winged it! Turns out, jellyfish isn’t that bad if you deep fry it. The merfolk loved it, though I think one of them might’ve cried because I didn’t use enough seaweed seasoning.” You giggled at the memory, and Kalim burst into laughter beside you.

“That’s amazing! You always have the best stories!” Kalim grinned from ear to ear, completely charmed by your carefree attitude.

But later, as a group of students caused a commotion in Scarabia over some miscommunication regarding event planning, Kalim started to get overwhelmed. The party plans were a mess, and everyone was panicking.

Before Kalim could start spiraling, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Kalim, it’s okay. We can fix this.”

You quickly took charge, calmly directing people, assigning tasks, and helping resolve the confusion with remarkable ease. Despite the chaos, you remained collected and responsible, ensuring everything got back on track. By the end of it, the students were thanking you for saving the event.

Kalim watched you in awe, his heart swelling with admiration. “Wow, you’re amazing at this! I didn’t even think about half of the things you just did!”

You smiled, a little sheepishly. “I’ve learned a thing or two from managing my own circus. Keeping things organized is important when you’ve got that many moving parts.”

Kalim beamed, his admiration growing even more. “You’re incredible! I love how you can be so fun and carefree but also super responsible when it matters.”

You laughed. “Well, I can’t have you stressing out, can I?”

Kalim’s heart fluttered as he realized just how much he adored every part of you—the goofy, lighthearted side and the calm, mature side that always seemed to have everything under control.

“I’m lucky to have you around,” he admitted softly, his face turning pink.

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “And I’m lucky to have someone who enjoys my stories. We make a good team.”

Jamil Viper

Jamil wasn’t one to get distracted easily, but you had a way of getting under his skin, especially with the wild stories you told so casually.

“So, Jamil, you know how everyone has a weird family tradition? Mine is... accidentally kidnapping a sultan’s pet tiger. Oh, it wasn’t on purpose, of course! The circus was performing in this palace, and I thought it was part of the act. Turns out, it was the sultan’s favorite tiger. Had to smooth things over with a five-course apology dinner. But hey, I got to keep a gold plate as a souvenir.”

Jamil blinked, his expression somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “You... kidnapped a royal tiger?”

“Yep! Accidentally, though. I gave it back!” you laughed, completely unfazed by how wild the story was. “But I did manage to calm the sultan down. Turns out, I’m pretty good at apologizing.”

Jamil shook his head, exhaling a slow breath. “I don’t know how you manage to stay so calm in situations like that.”

“Well, when you run a circus, you learn to roll with the punches,” you winked.

Later that evening, when a situation arose with a group of students causing chaos in Scarabia, you stepped up before Jamil could even lift a finger.

“Hold on, I’ll talk to them,” you said, stepping forward.

With a calm but firm approach, you quickly diffused the situation, guiding the students to settle down and offering solutions to their grievances. You did it all without raising your voice, just being patient and understanding.

Jamil watched, impressed at how you handled everything so smoothly. Once the students dispersed, he approached you with a newfound respect in his eyes.

“You’re... more capable than you let on,” he admitted, glancing away.

You smiled, not smugly, but warmly. “I just know when it’s time to be serious. Someone’s gotta keep the peace around here.”

Jamil’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe there was more to your lighthearted nature than he initially thought.

Masterlist

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Adventures of Mary Darling

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in PITTSBURGH on May 15 at WHITE WHALE BOOKS, and in PDX on Jun 20 at BARNES AND NOBLE with BUNNIE HUANG. More tour dates (London, Manchester) here.

Science fiction great Pat Murphy has written some classics – including books that were viciously suppressed by the heirs of JRR Tolkien! – but with The Adventures of Mary Darling, she's outdone even her own impressive self:

https://tachyonpublications.com/product/the-adventures-of-mary-darling/

The titular Mary Darling here is the mother of Wendy, John and and Michael Darling, the three children who are taken by Peter Pan to Neverland in JM Barrie's 1902 book The Little White Bird, which later became Peter Pan. If you recall your Barrie, you'll remember that it ends with the revelation that Wendy, John and Michael weren't the first Darlings to go to Neverland: when Mary Darling was a girl, she, too, made the journey.

Murphy's novel opens with Mary Darling and her husband George coming home from a dinner party to discover their three children missing, the window open, and their nanny, a dog called Nana, barking frantically in the yard. John is frightened, but Mary is practically petrified, inconsolable and rigid with fear.

Soon, Mary's beloved uncle, John Watson, is summoned to the house, along with his famous roommate, the detective Sherlock Holmes. With Holmes on the case, surely the children will be found?

Of course not. Holmes is incapable of understanding where the Darling children have gone, because to do so would be to admit the existence of the irrational and fantastic, and, more importantly, to accept the testimony of women, lower-class people, and pirates. Holmes has all the confidence of the greatest detective alive, which means he is of no help at all.

Neither is George Darling, who, as a kind of act of penance for letting his children be stolen away, takes to Nana's doghouse, and insists that he will not emerge from it until the children are returned. He takes his meals in the doghouse, and is carried in it to and from the taxis that bring him to work and home again.

Only Mary can rescue her children. John Watson discovers her consorting with Sam, a one-legged Pacific Islander who is a known fence and the finest rat-leather glovemaker in London, these being much prized by London's worst criminal gangs. Horrified that Mary is keeping such ill company, Watson confronts her and Sam (and Sam's parrot, who screeches nonstop piratical nonsense), only to be told that Mary knows what she is doing, and that she is determined to see her children home safe.

Mary, meanwhile, is boning up on her swordplay and self-defense (taught by a Suffragist swordmaster in a room above an Aerated Bread Company tearoom, these being the only public place in Victorian London where a respectable woman can enjoy herself without a male escort). She's acquiring nautical maps. She's going to Neverland.

What follows is a very rough guide to fairyland. It's a story that recovers the dark asides from Barrie's original Pan stories, which were soaked with blood, cruelty and death. The mermaids want to laugh as you drown. The fairies hate you and want you to die. And Peter Pan doesn't care how many starveling, poorly trained Lost Boys die in his sorties against pirates, because he knows where there are plenty more Lost Boys to be found in the alienated nurseries of Victorian London, an ocean away.

More importantly, it's a story that revolves around the women in Barrie's world, who are otherwise confined to the edges and shadows of the action. In Barrie's Pan, Wendy is a "mother," Tiger Lily is a "princess," and Mary is a barely-there adult whose main role is to smile wistfully at the memory of when she was a girl and got to serve as Peter's "mother."

And Holmes? Apart from one love interest and a stalwart housekeeper, Holmes has very little time or regard for women. This is so central to the Holmes cannon that the Arthur Conan Doyle estate actually sued over Netflix's Enola Holmes movie, arguing that Enola displayed basic respect for women, a feature that doesn't appear until the very end of the Holmes canon, and – the estate argued – those final stories were still in copyright:

https://www.cbr.com/why-enola-holmes-has-nice-version-sherlock/

Murphy's woman's-eye-view of Peter Pan, Neverland and the Lost Boys dilates the narrow aperture through which Peter Pan plays out, revealing a great deal of exciting, fun, frightening stuff that was always off in the wings. She gives flesh and substance to characters like Tiger Lily, by giving her the semi-fictionalized identity of one of the many American First Nations people who toured Europe and Africa, putting on Wild West shows that won eternal fame and cultural currency for the "American Indian," even as the USA was seeking to exterminate them and their memory.

Likewise, Murphy's pirates are grounded in the reality of pirate ships: democratic, anarchic, and far more fun than Robert Louis Stevenson would have you believe. While Murphy's pirates are about a century too late (as are Barrie's), they are in other regards pretty rigorous, which makes them extraordinarily great literary figures.

If you read David Graeber's posthumous Pirate Enlightenment, you'll know about the Zana-Malata of Madagascar, the descendants of anarchist pirates and matriarchal Malagasy women, who pranked and hoaxed British merchant sailors for generations, deliberately creating a mythology of south seas pirate kings:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/24/zana-malata/#libertalia

This hybrid culture of bold, fierce matriarchal Malagasy women and their anarchist pirate husbands play a central role in the book's resolution, and Murphy's pirate utopia is so well drawn and homely that I found myself wanting to move there.

This is a profoundly political book, but it's such a romp, too! Murphy has a real flair for this kind of thing. Back in 1999, she published the brilliant There and Back Again, an all-female retelling of The Hobbit (in spaaaaace!) that was widely celebrated…right up to the moment that Christopher Tolkien used baseless copyright threats to get the book withdrawn from sale:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/There_and_Back_Again_(novel)

Billionaire failsons of long-dead writers notwithstanding, you can still read There and Back Again by borrowing a copy of the book from the Internet Archive's Open Library:

https://openlibrary.org/works/OL15436385W/There_and_back_again

Murphy's mashup of Holmes, Pan, South Seas pirate anarchists, and other salutary and exciting personages, milieux, furniture and tropes of the Victorian adventure story is an unmissable triumph, a romp, a delight.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/06/nevereverland/#lesser-ormond-street

[wastedr00k]

ditto ; simon 'ghost' riley

in which Ghost can't get over his past lover

inspired by new jeans's 'ditto'

.

stay in the middle like you a little, don't want no riddle

your attraction to Ghost himself started the moment he carried you out of the room during your training session, the way his arms were tight around your shoulder and underside of your knee, his eyes locked in front of him and his own mission was to get you out.

not to say that you only fell for him because of his physique, his hard heart was constantly calling out for you to undo the walls he build up. whether or not it was his doing, you couldn't look away from him.

so it started out with small gestures, buying his coffee, small talks with him, hanging out with him after mission, fixing his gear for him. eventually it moved on to fixing his mask, to your own disbelief.

"i told you your mask is crooked, looks like your teeth are all slanted." you muttered to Simon, fingers hesitating whether or not to fix it for him.

he signed and turned to you and bend down to your height, "if it bothers you so much, fix it then."

you felt your face heat up from the close proximity of the two of you, his eye bored into yours as he silently waited for your next move.

you remind him so much of her.

with shaky hands, you reached out to fix his hands, your fingers gently pulling down the fabric, then fixing the shell which never seems to face you right. as you stayed close to him, you noticed the dog tag which says.

"ditto"

you've seen him wear this dog tag before, you just never knew what it said.

"there, fixed it." you pulled back and managed to breath out before turning away.

his callused hands ruffled your hair as he let out a gruff, ''thanks, kid." and he was off to his mission, wherever he needed to be, without ever waiting for your response.

you huffed out air and went back to your task of tinkering with your electronics,

'who's "ditto" anyway?'

.

do you want somebody? like I want somebody?

so it goes, the both of your did get closer, he even let you lean on his shoulder after mission, something that event the 141 was shocked about, everyone's face was literal gold when it happened.

"i'm so tired! i didn't expect them to be that good!" you whined as you slumped back onto the car seat, "i could really use a good nap."

"then nap if you feel so inclined to do so."

"this cars too bumpy!"

without a second delay, a rough hand guided your head onto a shoulder, of none other than Simon, "quiet, you're making too much noise.".

the whole of the 141 stayed as silent as you, till soap spoke up,

"damn LT, the only person you let do this was -"

"enough, she needs to rest." Ghost cut him off, "get comfy little parrot, it's a long ride.".

you kept your eyes shut the whole ride, his shoulder was surprisingly comfy, you even mustered the courage to wrap your hands around his biceps half way though the ride. he didn't flinch or move your hands away, instead opted to lean his head on yours, closing his eyes.

you felt just like her.

.

oh, say it ditto I want you so, want you, so say it ditto

so when you found out his birthday, you decided to get a cake and celebrate it with him.

as you walked towards his room, hiding the cake behind your back, then finally knocking on his room door,

"Simon! open up!" you yelled, not caring if you woke everyone up, today was Simon's special day.

the lock undid and there he was, in his tank top and shorts, and by the way mask pulled over his face, it seems like he just woke up.

inviting yourself in, because the two of you close like that right? making sure to keep the cake hidden behind you.

"what are you up to this time?" he questioned, hands fumbling with the dog tag around his neck, he has a feeling that he knows what's going to happen.

"well," you started to pull the cake out of he box,

"today is your special day..." placing the candles onto the cake

"i wanted to let you know that you are loved..." lighting the candles up

spinning around with the cake in front of you, "happy birthday Simon Riley!"

he stood there, speechless.

and for a moment he is brought back in time where she celebrated his birthday with him, just the two of them. the same setting and positions, you really look like her.

all the times you bought coffee for him didn't go unnoticed and unappreciated. all the times you kept him company after missions, fixing his gear, all the times your reminded him of her.

he'd be lying if he said you didn't make him as happy as she did.

his bliss was short lived as suddenly, he felt like he betrayed her, all the promises of loving only each other, staying by one's side, being each other's one and only.

"get out."

"huh?" you slowly drew back the cake from him. "what -"

"i said get out, get out of my room." his eyes opened once again and all he could see was her funeral, her dead body laying there along with all their broken promises.

he could hear what you were saying as he slapped the cake out from your hands,

"you'll never be her, you'll never replace her no matter how much you try!"

as he trashed his room, you stood there like the eye of the storm. tears streaming down your face, is that who 'ditto' was?

"you try so hard but you'll never replace her! get the fuck out!" Ghost bellowed, as he destroyed the cake even more by trampling on it, his hands tightly clutching the single dog tag around his neck,

"i'll never betray you!" there he was, screaming at a ghost.

only that the ghost of his past lover was the living being that is you.

soon the yelling calmed down and the dust began to settle, he realized what he'd done, seeing her cry and let out a soft,

"ditto, LT, ditto."

before she ran out of his room, leaving behind yet another mess for Simon to clean and carry.

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Reptilia - Piciformes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Our next order of birds are the Piciformes. This is a large order, containing the living families Bucconidae (“puffbirds”), Galbulidae (“jacamars”), Megalaimidae (“Asian barbets”), Lybiidae (“African barbets”), Capitonidae (“New World barbets”), Semnornithidae (“toucan barbets”), Ramphastidae (“toucans”), Indicatoridae (“honeyguides”), and Picidae (“woodpeckers”).

The Piciformes are quite diverse with a variety of body, and particularly beak, types. Nearly all Piciformes have parrot-like zygodactyl feet: two toes forward and two back, an arrangement that has advantages for birds that spend much of their time on tree trunks. Most piciformes are insectivores, though the barbets and toucans mainly eat fruit, and some piciformes also supplement their diet with eggs and small vertebrates.

All Piciformes nest in cavities (either burrows or holes in trees or termite mounds) and have altricial young, hatched completely naked. Aside from the jacamars, Piciformes do not have down feathers at any age, only developing true feathers. They are generally monogamous, at least for one breeding season, and both parents take care of the chicks.

Piciformes evolved around the Early Eocene, with the modern families known to exist since the mid-late Oligocene.

Propaganda under the cut:

The constellation Tucana, containing most of the Small Magellanic Cloud, is named after the toucan.

The largest Piciform is the Toco Toucan (Ramphastos toco) (see gif above), with an average length of 56 cm (1.8 ft).

The Greater Honeyguide (Indicator indicator) (image 2) is best known for its mutualistic relationship with humans. When a Greater Honeyguide has found a hive of honeybees with a large yield of honey, it will attract the attention of humans through specific calls. It will then lead the humans to the hive. Once the humans have collected the honey, the honeyguide sweeps in to eat the larvae and wax. Honey-hunters have specific calls and whistles used to call honeyguides when they are about to search for honey. Adults but not juvenile honeyguides will respond to these calls, signifying that a response to the calls is taught. Claims that it also guides non-human animals are disputed; humans seem to be the only animals to understand the bird calls. In some parts of Kenya, Greater Honeyguides have stopped guiding, due to a lack of responses by people in the area.

While they mainly eat insects, honeyguides are unique among birds for being able to digest beeswax.

In folklore, it is frequently noted that the honeyguide should be thanked with a gift of honey; if not, it may lead its follower to a lion, bull elephant, or venomous snake as punishment. Honeyguides do rarely lead humans to venomous snakes, but this is probably due to error by the birds, or perhaps as a means of trying to get humans to remove a snake from a nesting area.

Woodpeckers are known for their characteristic behavior of drumming their beaks on wood. This is done to “drill” for insects under the bark, to communicate, and to make nest holes. To prevent brain damage from rapid and repeated powerful impacts, woodpeckers have a number of physical features that protect their brains. These include a relatively small and smooth brain, narrow subdural space, little cerebrospinal fluid surrounding it (to prevent it from moving back and forth inside the skull during pecking), the orientation of the brain within the skull, and a skull which consists of strong but compressible, sponge-like bone.

Woodpeckers have long, sticky, barbed tongues for extracting food (insects and larvae) from trees. The tongue bone (or hyoid bone) of the woodpecker is so long that it winds around the skull through a special cavity, thereby cushioning the brain during pecking.

The smallest woodpecker is the Bar-breasted Piculet (Picumnus aurifrons), which is typically 7.5 cm (3 in) long and weighs 8 to 10 g (0.28 to 0.35 oz).

The American birdwatcher’s Thylacine, the Ivory-billed Woodpecker (Campephilus principalis) is presumed extinct, as the last universally accepted sighting in the United States was in 1944, and the last universally accepted sighting in Cuba was in 1987. However, hope remains that the bird may persist somewhere, and sightings are still made to this day (most of them probably other woodpecker species and none of them confirmed). Habitat protection and restoration efforts have been initiated in areas where the species might persist.

The related Imperial Woodpecker (Campephilus imperialis), endemic to Mexico, is also presumed extinct. If they have gone extinct, it would have been due to habitat destruction and fragmentation combined with hunting. If it is not extinct, it is the world's largest woodpecker species, at 56–60 cm (1.8–2 ft) long.

One of the accounts of the founding of Rome, preserved in the work known as Origo Gentis Romanae, refers to a legend of a woodpecker bringing food to the boys Romulus and Remus during the time they were abandoned in the wild.

In the 2016 Nintendo 3DS game Pokémon Sun and Moon, the Pokémon Toucannon had an evolution line based on the phylogenetic relationships within Piciformes, perhaps one of the only Pokémon evolution lines to make a nod to real-life phylogeny. The first evolution, Pikipek, is based on a Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus). The second, Trumbeak, resembles a honeyguide. The final evolution, Toucannon, is modeled after a Toco Toucan.

[tiktokparrot]

How to Manage Anxiety in African Grey Parrots?

Learn how to manage anxiety in African Grey Parrots with practical tips, humor, and love. Keep your parrot happy and stress-free with these easy-to-follow steps.

[rxttenfish]

every day i am constantly shocked that chickens, finches, and pigeons are not treated as the default bird pets and reminded of this whenever people talk about pet birds in a way that basically only applies to parrots

[deliciousnecks]

Ok, let me start with this by saying that I'm not writing to change anyone's point of view, because honestly? don't care and I'm tired. I just want to share my opinion over this matter. everyone sees and experiences things differently, so with that out of the way...

Like I knew before the season started that there was going to be issues with people if nandor & guillermo went canon, because it wasn't going to happen how they wanted it, if the characters didn't ended up kissing or fucking or the usual, and here we are now..

Anyway! people saying that "we're settling for scraps" let me tell you that we're not. You want a explit love confession, but this is Nandor, that was not going to happen. Now, people say "oh, but he confessed his love to the guide, to all those other people" he didn't, because he was not in love to begin with, he said all those words but there was no feeling or real meaning to them, it was only a rehearsed speech that at this point he has repeated more than 1300+ times. what he feels for guillermo is love, selfless, caring, genuine, love, and this is why this relationship between them feels so different to the other relationships he have with those around. Him giving Guillermo another one of those "I love you" confessions would have made him just another one in the list, but he's not.

This "Unbreakable alliance" speech, has more meaning than any other "I love you" that this dude has been parroting and saying to the first stranger that crosses his way and decided to be nice to him. Also, I know that some people were like "but there's no kiss so it doesn't count" I'm sorry, but like... I'm gonna be honest with you, i think that would have been a bit OOC for both characters to all of a sudden kiss, in front of everyone and the cameras and all that shit. I have always imagined these two having their first kiss in a more private setting and perhaps away from fucking cameras, but hey! that's me.

Let's also not forget in all this, that we have never seen Nandor like this. Nandor all this time has been nothing buy a depressed sad potato even when he was been "in love" with all those others, but finally after so many years, he's feeling alive, because being with Guillermo, having this bond with him, having him as his equal and in his life forever, has given his entire existence a new purpose and a new meaning. He can't see himself living without guillermo now. Guillermo has brought meaning to his life after who knows how many centuries, and he's willing to become a better person for him.

Also! a bonus here! people saying that all the progress of the season was lost and we're back to s1 just because Nandor told Guillermo to let go of his hand, like... are you fucking kidding me? are we for real here? that's just nandor being nandor, that's his personality. what? did you think that just because the guy found the meaning of his life in guillermo (the love of his life. yes. i said it it) he's about to change his entire personality within seconds? it doesn't work like that, no relationship works like that.

so, no, we're not settling for scraps, we're not being delusional. if you're not happy with this, that's ok, but don't assume that everyone is going to feel the same way you do.

For those that are happy with this moment, this was more deep and meaningful and intense than a simple "i love you" or a "simple hand clasp". These are two characters that have realized that they want each other in each other's life, and not because it's a MUST, but because they have chosen for this to be this way, because they want it to be this way, and no one or anything can break this, not even all these difference they have going on between them, one being a vampire, the other being a human & slayer. nandor literally said "fuck that" and let's be together forever.

[halovians]

cw a little suggestive towards the end, mdni please and ty :)

alhaitham is the type to seethe quietly in his jealousy.

he’s not outwardly possessive—no, because he lets the stranger talk to you—his pretty girlfriend—about his thesis plans, about his academic feats, and you sit there with a smile plastered on your face, nodding your head as you listen to him prattle on and on and on.

alhaitham nearly bends the book in his hand into pieces with what he claims is annoyance. not possessiveness, no, that was out of character. he was just… annoyed, that this random man had the gall to interrupt his reading session with you.

that’s what he tells himself, at least.

of course, how was he supposed to know you were dating the akademiya scribe, when alhaitham was possibly the most low-key person ever? the two of you were quiet about your relationship, content to share it between yourselves. only your close friends really knew the extent of how deep your “friendship” with the scribe went.

as soon as the man leaves (not without leaving his number for you, of course), and the two of you are blanketed in the quiet murmurs of the akademiya library, alhaitham sets his book down. he turns to you.

he finds you staring at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. alhaitham tilts his head, all feline grace, his eyes narrowing into slits as he asks, “what?”

you shake your head mirthfully, crumpling up the slip of paper in your hand and tossing it into the nearest bin. alhaitham feels his shoulders un-tense just a fraction at the sight.

“nothing,” you say, but alhaitham knows you’re lying.

so he leans closer to you, grasping your chin in his hand as he tilts your head back and forces your gaze to meet his.

“liar. what is it?”

you smile. wide and wider it grows, and you reach a hand up to brush alhaitham’s cheek. he barely suppresses a shudder at the gentle touch.

“i didn’t think you to be the jealous type.”

“i’m not.”

“then what was that all about?” you hum. you’re… amused by this. amused by him grappling with his emotions. alhaitham feels his lips twitch downward.

if you didn’t know any better, he would appear to just be frowning. but you did… and it was like he was pouting. you giggle.

“i am annoyed,” alhaitham says, stressing the last word, “that we were interrupted by a stranger. nothing more.”

“nothing more?” you parrot, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “sure. and i’m the grand sage.”

alhaitham bites his tongue, pulling his hand away from your chin. his fingers flex—he has to stamp down on his self-control. being found in a compromising position in the library would surely wreck the both of your social statuses.

but the thrill of it… seeing you bent over the table, utterly wrecked under the careful ministrations of his hands—getting to mark his claim on you...

he quickly shakes the dangerous train of thought away.

“do you want to go home?” you suddenly ask, a coy smile dancing on your lips. he must have been obvious where his line of thinking was going, if you managed to catch on that quickly. the grin on your face tells him that you did.

alhaitham pretends to ponder it. grabs the book he set down, turns it over in his hands, then shrugs.

“sure. kaveh shouldn’t be home for another few hours.”

his voice was bedroom-soft, and the tone in which he said it—nearly purring—has heat pooling in your core.

“alright. let’s go?”

he wordlessly rises, holding out his hand for you. there’s a small part of him that feels a maddening satisfaction when you let out a pleased hum, followed by a surprised yelp as he gracefully slides an arm around you.

someone nearby makes a “shh” noise, and he completely ignores it. you giggle out an apology.

it was utterly unlike him, he thinks, as he guides you through the library with his arm wrapped around your waist, slowly moving to rest his hand on the small of your back when the two of you exit the library.

maybe he’ll try being more public in his attention to you. that would most certainly keep this from happening again.

[marithempressz]

What caring messages are waiting for you?

Please, read this first! For today’s collective reading I’ll also apply an energy healing field for every pile. You’re welcome to receive those blessed frequencies, you just have to find a quiet and calm place where you can sit or lay down so you can rest with your guides and guardian angels, they’ll know what to do. Just open yourself to it. At the end of each reading I’ll put a healing frequency which you’re free to use or not while receiving those light codes. For the applications I’ll be assisted by the Arcturians. P.S.: If you want to receive the clearings of all group’s themes you’re definitely able to do so.

Decks used: Tarot of The Divine, Osho Zen Tarot

pile 1, pile 2

pile 3

Pile 1

Five of Wands, Ace of Swords, Three of Wands

Past Lives

The color blue is very present here. Blue rose, blue parrot. I saw blue wings. I had a ick, something on my stomach that felt uncomfortable, gross. Allow these sensations to fade away. Angels are taking care of you. Stop fighting yourself, your feelings. You deserve to honour your internal realm. 

Things are tough right now, too much chaos, too much fighting and conflicting thoughts in your mind. Your ego must be thinking that it’s not a good time to be with yourself, but the fact is that right is a decisive moment so you can prove to yourself  your own love. That’s why angels are asking for you to let those feelings go away, dissolve them. The idea here is to not exclude those feelings, try to put them inside a box and foolishly think that they will go away just like that. No, that’s not how it works. You need to feel it, they’re just feelings, not monsters, but feelings that deserve to be felt, they’re part of you.

This reading is reminding of a quote from Carl Jung that says: “But what if I should discover that the least among them all, the poorest of all the beggars, the most impudent of all the offenders, the very enemy himself - that these are within me, and that I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness - that I myself am the enemy who must be loved - what then?”. 

The caring message here is about taking care of yourself, that you’re worthy of your own kindness and love. It’s not an easy task to accept where you are and feel your feelings, because everything you want is to avoid everything that makes you uncomfortable, but there’s a reward when you have the courage to stay with yourself. There’s a greater feeling behind all of those threatening thoughts and sensations. You’ll only discover what that is when you compromise with yourself. 

Past Lives was the card that fell from Osho Tarot deck. I feel that there’s a debt with yourself created along those lives, a wound about betraying your own feelings, your own intuition. Be true to yourself now, that’s a gift. These feelings erupting are a reminder that in this life, you’re not willing to do that with yourself anymore. Angels suggest for you to rest, just rest with them. I wish you peace and love in your journey.

For the healing energies, my guides are clearing your thoughts and emotional area, there’s a density in here which you no longer have to identify yourself with. Just let it go, no more confusion, no more mess.  

888Hz Cosmic Dragon • Activate Miracles, Blessings, Abundance & Spiritual Protection

Pile 2 

Knight of Swords, Eight of Swords, Nine of Swords, The Wheel of Fortune, The Chariot

The Burden

Blue agate. There are some insecurities on this pile. They’re working on your solar plexus, third eye and crown chakras. Tons of sorrow is surrounding you, lol what’s going on guys?

There’s this feeling of wanting to let go of all of this bs, but you might think that you can’t do it, or that you’re not able to do it, because you think it’s something you must go through, like it’s in your destiny to suffer this much. Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but that’s a lie you’re telling yourself. There’s too much identification with a path full of suffering and challenges and, of course, right now you must not be in a good place, but telling yourself a story that if you persevere enough you’ll be rewarded. No, darling, you have plenty of good feelings to feel and plenty of good experiences to have. Angels are inviting you to let these little stories you tell yourself go away, that doesn’t make you more interesting or something, this is just preventing you from finding your power of choosing.

Your will is God’s will, it’s the Universe’s will. Why would the source of everything let you suffer? If you think there’s a reason for all of that, then why can sins not be forgiven? Isn’t the Universe the source of love? Do not lie to yourself, you’re not destined to suffer, your desires are a source of power and you’re not impotent towards life. The Wheel of Fortune, when you decide that you’re ready, is likely to benefit you.

For The Burden card, the message here is clear. Those narratives that you’re carrying and maybe you didn’t even know that you were carrying are from other people, probably your parents, but of course past lives might have contributed to those beliefs.

Are you ready to be free of them? Open your heart then, give yourself the taste to have a pleasurable life, connected with yourself and the Universe. What you believe the Universe represents for you is what you’re manifesting, so if you’ve grown up in a religious strict house where God was a severe figure, you’ll probably experience life just like that. The good thing about all of that is that you can be free creating now what God truly means to you. 

Guides will clear this group field so they can be free of those crazy beliefs and will connect them with the Source’s love. Enjoy the new version of you! 

1111Hz Cosmic Butterfly • Attract Miracles, Love & Wealth • Law of Attraction

Pile 3

Knight of Cups, Ace of Coins, The Emperor

Existence

They’ll be working on your heart chakra. I feel that for this pile the energies feel very loving, very caring and soft, just like cotton. So positive in an imposing way, there’s a certainty here, no doubts, no second-guessings. Angels are kidding and telling that this pile needs no healing lol. Of course it’ll have, they’ll just make things even better. It can always be better.

There’s freedom and power here, birds might be a source of power for many who chose this pile, a lot of abundance too. It’s likely for you to make money in the next few days, it’s time for your nest to be full again! 

There’s so much peace here, an ability to naturally trust in Source and in the divine power. I would say everyone is invited to be connected with this pile, because it feels so safe. It feels like a gift for you, guys, really.

To finish this reading, which I feel there’s not much to say, I’ll just put the message from the Existence card: “Existence. Major Arcana. You are not accidental. Existence needs you. Without you something will be missing in existence and nobody can replace it. That′s what gives you dignity, that the whole existence will miss you. The stars and sun and moon, the trees and birds and earth – everything in the universe will feel like a small place is vacant which cannot be filled by anybody except you. This gives you a tremendous joy, a fulfillment that you are related to existence, and existence cares for you. Once you are clean and clear, you can see tremendous love falling on you from all dimensions.”

Sacred Geometry Sound Bath | Heart Chakra Healing & Light Codes for Spiritual Awakening

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.