Tiredbirdnerd

bro thay put transgender in me

Yeah sure everyone's into being kinky and bringing toys into the bedroom but the moment you pull out one of these to try and grab his dick then suddenly everyone's got a problem

Watching a post on FB about chickens not eating a food their owners got them, and people telling this person "just don't give them more until they eat it" and "they'll eat it if they're hungry enough" and thinking about how if someone asks about a toxic plant in their yard these same people will swear chickens "know what's good for them" and "they won't eat stuff that's bad for them." And somehow these two things live together in their heads with no conflict. Well which is it? Does your chicken know the feed is bad or can they not tell when things are good or bad for them?

I went through several feeds looking for one my birds actually liked that I also liked. The one they're on now is sound but they also seem to really enjoy it. They don't anymore, but they used to dig/sort through chows, spill a bunch, only eat it when they really had to. That's miserable, I think. What a miserable existence, to be expected to eat food you dislike every day with no control over it, no ability to change it. And it's deemed okay, because you're not willing to die over it so you're just being picky.

If your fowl are avoiding eating a feed, maybe it's not a good feed or maybe they don't like it. Maybe try a different one and see if you can find one that's decent but also tastes good. Try pellets vs crumble vs mash. This person was feeding mash (a powdery food meant to be served wet) dry and it had whole grains in it the birds were picking out. Of course they're going to pick out the whole grains and leave the dry powder behind. I would, too. It's not hard to give them some water with their chow. I do it near daily with crumble and the birds lose it, they love that stuff. It's so easy. It's such a little thing. Sometimes I just wish I could shake someone through a computer screen until their teeth rattle.

I'M LOSING MY SHIT AT THESE REPLIES HOLY FUCK

Birds Dont Sing

sylus x reader | fluff, comfort, a little bit angsty if you squint

this was a request from a kind anon reader♡

summary: sylus silently watches you being vulnerable in front of mephisto

Your apartment was unusually still, wrapped in that soft kind of quiet that only happens on slow afternoons. The kind where time doesn't stop, but stretches, languid and warm.

You were lying back against the cushions of the couch, one arm tucked behind your head, eyes closed as your face was graced with a soft smile, while Mephisto was perched on top of your stomach. Your tired gaze trailed toward the slivers of sunlight as they slipped beneath the horizon beyond the windowpane, painting the city in deep pinks and dusky purples, the last light smudging the skyline like fading watercolors.

Mephisto blinked at you, head tilting just slightly as if studying you with more than just curiosity. Almost like he understood you.

''You're so much gentler than you look, you know that?'' you murmured to the crow, voice just above a whisper.

Mephisto let out a soft click in response, the kind Sylus had once said, was the equivalent of a purr. Your fingers reached out slowly, pausing just before touching him. You always gave him that choice. Sylus had told you Mephisto could be wary, even proud, like a living bird. But today, he stepped closer without hesitation, lowering his head slightly, so you could run a finger along the smooth arch of his neck.

''I'm glad you're here. Both of you. You…help me feel safe.''

Mephisto tilted his head at you, blinking once, and stayed perfectly still. Almost like he was listening. Really listening.

You sighed, settling deeper into the cushions, fingertips still idly brushing from his sleek metallic head, down to his neck and up again. ''You and Sylus…you make everything feel a little less heavy.''

Unseen by you, the door to the kitchen opened moments before. Sylus stood quietly just inside the frame, unnoticed, one hand resting lightly against the wood as he watched you.

He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd simply come back from the kitchen to tell you that dinner was ready. But then he'd seen you, resting softly, speaking so earnestly. And Mephisto, the one creature he trusted without question, perched like a sentinel on top of you, his wings tucked neatly against his sides, responding to your affection like he was more than metal and wire. Like he had a soul. And his footsteps had gone silent out if instinct. He didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood and listened.

Sylus swallowed the unexpected ache rising in his throat.

Because this wasn't a side of you most people get to see. This quiet, gentle kind of sadness. The longing for reassurance you rarely gave voice to. The way you looked at Mephisto, his creation, with such raw trust.

Sylus had built the crow to be an extension of himself in the field. His eyes in the dark, his silent defense, an extension of efficiency.But he'd never imagined this. That Mephisto could become something softer. A quiet presence. A guardian of your peace. A comfort.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was low. Gentle.

''I think he likes you,'' he said quietly, breaking the silence just enough to let his voice slip in.

You blinked, startled, eyes flying open as your hand jerked back in surprise. ''Sylus! I- I didn't hear you come in.''

He stepped forward, crouching beside the couch and reaching out to lightly scratch Mephisto behind the head in the spot only he seemed to know. The bird chirped happily.

''He's picky,'' Sylus said, smirking just a little. ''He doesn't let just anyone touch him. You've earned his trust.''

You laughed under your breath, cheeks flushing. ''He's a good listener.''

Sylus tilted his head. ''So am I.''

There was a pause, quiet and meaningful.

Your voice softened again. ''Sometimes…it's easier to say the things I'm scared of out loud when I think no one's listening.''

He nodded, understanding in his gaze as he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

''I was listening,'' he murmured. ''And I'm glad you feel safe. That's all I want for you, sweetheart.''

''I worry sometimes,'' you admitted, eyes drifting down to Mephisto again. ''That I lean on you too much. That I'm not strong enough. I try not to show it, but…today, I just needed a quiet moment. And he was here. Like he knew.''

Sylus reached out, hand brushing against yours where it rested on the couch. His touch was cool, steady. Grounding.

''You never have to hide that from me,'' he said quietly. ''Your strength doesn't come from pretending you're okay. It comes from choosing to stay open. Even when it's hard.''

Your throat tightened at his words. You nodded, swallowing thickly.

''I see you,'' he added voice low and reverent. ''Every part. And I love all of it.''

Mephisto chirped again, wings fluttering just slightly before settling. You and Sylus both looked down at him, and for a beat, it was as if the three of you existed in your own pocket of the world. Quiet, safe, whole.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against Sylus's, your hand softly squeezing his.

''Thank you,'' you whispered. ''For listening. For knowing.''

He kissed your temple, lingering.

''Always.''

okay it’s come to my attention that absolutely NONE OF YOU know ANYTHING about how cutie marks work. let me say this simply. a cutie mark isn’t a job being assigned, it’s a special TALENT OR SKILL that the pony enjoys. Most of the time it has a directly transferable job for that skill, like if you enjoy baking and are super good at it WOW! baker. If you are really good at writing and telling stories, author. However, there are some cutie marks that could go multiple ways.

twilight sparkle has exceptional magic ability, so she became a scholar, but she could really do anything that required a good magic skill. same with rainbow dash, her weather controlling job isn’t directly linked to her cutie mark, but it does fit the bill for the job.

i was posed the question of what would a murderer pony’s cutie mark be and wouldn’t everyone know. NO. if somehow murder were to be a special skill, the cutie mark might be something like a knife or a shovel. other ponies might just assume you’re good a cooking or gardening. now with cutie marks like apple jacks, their family has a ‘green thumb’ kind of deal so obviously the cutie mark would be hereditary.

so, the reason i made this post. walter white pony’s cutie mark would NOT be blue crystals. it would be a CHEMISTRY FLASK.

Kids these days are such wimps 

Pirates are just punks of the sea. Give a pirate a flannel and they'd absolutely wear it

Hoshino: [writing a letter to Sasazuka talking about her feelings] Nah, this is too much.

Hoshino: It’s unrealistic and sounds completely stupid.

Sasazuka, leaning over her shoulder: No, no, keep going.