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ice-lolly bimbo

@cythereafemme

she they. 17. autistic schizo catholic high femme lesbian. GIDEON NAV MY SOUL IS YOURS
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Reblogged

2/5/2018

What? Who wouldn’t want to be around a bird who put all their stat points into Has No Chill and Has Yes Volume? That’s clearly the best possible combination of traits in a neighbour! :)

The chickens care about Things I Can Eat and Things That Can Eat Me; the ducks add Things I Can Have Sex With to that list. Anything you don’t feed on, flee from, or fornicate with might as well not exist to them; they stop paying attention the instant they figure out none of the categories apply. They like humans, but it’s mostly because we give them hard boiled egg sometimes.

It’s not that the peacocks are smarter, but for some reason they care about things that don’t matter. Things they know don’t matter. If you’re out in the pasture and you move a shovel, the peacocks will notice and will come by and look at it in its new place. I’m pretty sure they know they can’t eat a shovel, they just want to know what’s up with it. It’s hilarious and endearing. They’ll put their heads right up next to it and inspect it like they’re looking for shovel contraband, then without moving their feet, they’ll snake their necks around to the back and inspect that side too.

All the things that are irrelevant backdrops to the ducks and chickens must be carefully inspected if you’re a peacock: fallen leaves, a pinecone someone kicked accidentally, boots if the shoelaces are tied differently than earlier, flowers that opened since yesterday, cats sleeping in the sun, hoofprints in muddy ground, tools, tree shadows on the walls of the chicken house, spiderwebs, lily pads, salamanders.They look at the tiny splashy waterfalls in the creek from all angles. I’m reasonably sure I’ve seen them stare at the moon.

I don’t know why they’re like that. However, since I also care about many nonsense things that don’t matter at all to my life, their eccentricity speaks to me. I’m quite fond of the Extra Fancy Weird Bird Squad.

I want to add that they yell at many irrelevant things. Unfamiliar sounds, loud sounds, movement, when they are possessed by the demons of yelling for no reason. If you yell at them, they yell back. Yelling is often accompanied by booty shaking by the boys. In any case it’s a whole hearted yell, one they throw their heads back and use all their lungs for. I envy that ability. Someone should be allowed to get away with yelling like that, just screaming into the void for no reason.

I’ve seen mine watch planes in the sky and chatter so that everyone else looks up at the sky to find it. If you look up and replicate the chatter noise, they will look up too. If you look at something for long, they will come look at it as well. If you tap at something the way they do when pecking at something to eat, they will come over to judge if it is edible, but unlike chickens who will mostly try anything or just walk away without comment, peafowl will either try it or shake their heads “no” at it. If one of them shakes their head no, the others will not try it either and will often start shaking their heads “no” too. It can be their favorite treat but it doesn’t matter. One of them judged it inedible. If looking at something isn’t enough, they will tap it with their beak or pick it up and clack it in their beak a few times before dropping it to look at it some more.

They have a particular noise which means danger. It’s easy to replicate and causes them to fluff their necks and begin looking at everything even more. It makes them honk when they can’t find anything wrong. Sometimes one of them will make it on accident, or because they had a bad dream or because they thought they saw something but it was actually nothing and they all become inconsolable for ten minutes until nothing continues to happen.

They play. I’ve seen the chickens take interest in an item or do pleasurable things like take a dust bath or eat treats from a puzzle treat ball, or swing on swings when they jump up to find out what this thing is, but peacocks play. Give them a soft cat toy they can’t swallow and they will play with it. They will grab it up and shake it and toss it and chase after it. They will play with a laser pointer. They will chase a string or a strip of fabric. They incite play with each other the way dogs do, by crouching low and flipping their wings out in an invitation to chase them. When you do, they bounce away from you in silly hop-jumps and then turn around because now it’s your turn. If you run, they will scamper after you. It is even more delightful to watch them do this with one another as they perform acrobatics I cannot possibly replicate without the use of wings. They will play follow the leader around objects.

They have discussions. This may seem like Anthropomorphising them, but they will talk to each other through a fence that separates them, sometimes for hours. The girls try to decide who is boss by grouping up and chattering about it for a while first. Sometimes that’s all it takes. The good boys submit to the girls in a bowing display. They come over and put the tip of their beak to the dirt and fluff the back of their neck just behind the head. The girl will sometimes follow suit, making soft noises. Sometimes she will groom the back of his neck instead. Sometimes he is ignored or gets a sharp peck for his intrusion. If birds, peafowl or otherwise, are arguing, often the peafowl will place themselves in the middle to stop it. Particularly if the peahens are arguing, peacocks will slowly walk into the middle with their heads down to prevent a fight.

They know each other and actually care if someone is missing from the flock. The saddest thing I have ever witnessed was the year I lost a boy to extreme cold when he fell asleep away from the heat. I removed his body before the others could see, thinking it would save them from hurt. Instead they spent days calling for him to come home. I have lost two flock birds since then and both times I left the bodies in the pen for a day. Both times the flock gathered around them. Both times they mourned, sitting by the body or attempting to get them to respond. But both times, after I took them away, there was no calling.

They are thinking about things all the time. They seek revenge. They will get sneaky about it. They walk up to things sideways if they intend to sneak attack. I watched one sidle up to a sleeping cat and when I told her not to touch the cat (a command or at least tone of voice she knew) she looked back at me and considered her options. She would get in trouble if she touched the cat. She looked back at the cat, because it was sleeping and comfortable and that’s not allowed. Then she looked dead at me in challenge once more, and started slamming her beak next to the cat, which woke the cat and made her vacate the space. The peahen then looked back at me like you can’t yell at me because I didn’t touch her. That same girl hated my dad and would come up on him sideways to try to attack him before he saw her. I had a boy that my mother tossed a crinkled piece of paper at and it startled him, but he thought the dog threw it, so he chased her instead.

They are afraid of the dark. Every single one of them. They will not go into a dark room. We put nightlights in their coops because they are big babies and that’s the only way they will go inside to roost where it’s actually safe. If it goes out they will start yelling until you wake up and fix it.

Peafowl are amazing and very weird creatures that I, for one, am very grateful to have in my life.

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Reblogged

I really wish butchhood wasn't conflated with being a protector so much, honestly.

I'm a very vulnerable butch. I'm chronically ill, invisibly physically disabled, and have a lot of mental health issues. My masculinity doesn't inherently make me more strong or powerful.

But there's a huge amount of butch culture built on butches being protective of femmes, or just being strong and working in very physically laborious jobs. It feels disheartening to be locked out of a major part of my culture, just because I'm disabled.

So here's to all the disabled butches who want, or are expected to, be strong because toxic masculinity has taught us the mascs are the protectors, but we can't be.

We're the ones who need people to slow down for us. We're the ones who need to sit down and catch our breath after walking a bit. We're the ones who need help. And that doesn't make us any less butch.

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