#defying conditioning

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #160

I had a LOT of social today. But it was very good, I think.

I made a wonderful friend at the gathering of poly folks (if you remember!) and we'll call him E! E has a wife called H, and a partner K, and the three of them invited me along with them to a mall that is some distance from my house, because E wanted to get some pretty clothing from the lingerie store! He found some things that I think will look super amazing on him! I hope they fit well and that he ends up liking what he bought!

…I won't make pretend like it wasn't difficult for me to simply walk into a store like that one. Most places that make stuff like this… they're not usually made for proportions like mine. I don't look like the mannequins that these things are usually sewn for. And rationally, I understand there's nothing wrong with that; humans are supposed to come in all sorts of different shapes and sizes, after all. I love all the shapes that all the living things come in… except for my own. And… the dislike of my own shape has nothing to do with its shape. Rather, it has more to do with the fact that it's mine, and the fact that I live in a culture that demands we all hate our own shape, no matter what that shape is.

I reached my full height when I was like 12, but I didn't even begin developing adult characteristics until I was around 16, for whatever reason. So if you can imagine a version of me that was around 5'9"/175.25cm and only 120lb/54.4kg… that's what I was. I was malnourished in those days; you could count my ribs without much effort. I have a long time of being called "pathetically flat-chested", "beanpole", and "pebbles" (derived from the phrase, "boulder-holders for your shoulders") by my father, my stepmother, and the kids at school. I have memories of being called disgusting by my stepmother for being skinny and mostly shapeless. And I have memories of her telling me, "someday you're gonna get fat and you'll be just as disgusting then, too."

…Well. She was right about one thing. I am 60lb/27.2kg heavier now than I was back in those days. I am soft and kinda chubby. And although rationally I understand that the shape that I have now is as good as any other shape that exists (because all living things are living-thing-shaped, and all living things are good), I still struggle with the sense of shame that was ground into me since I was a young girl, and I still struggle with the fear of being on the receiving end of verbal or social violence from other people for what I look like.

The culture in which I live tends to viciously shame any human with any amount of body fat. But at the same time, it also tends to viciously shame any human who is skinny. Humans in my world get shamed for not conforming to the "beauty standards" that exist here, but at the same time, if you do happen to conform to those "standards", people will shame you because then they assume you're "stupid" or "shallow" or "vain". And I don't know how that can be. It's as though the only "acceptable" shape of a human in my world is one that matches the plastic ones that clothing stores like to demonstrate their products on. But even then, if you conform to that shape, people are still angry at you. It's very confusing!

The ladies working at the store were not like this, though. They were very nice, actually. They looked at my shape and they didn't tell me that it's bad. They didn't tell me that I should try a different store. I found something I liked, but they didn't have it in stock. So they asked me what my measurements were, so that way I could order it from the store's website for delivery.

But… given my upbringing, I hadn't really known what my size was at all; neither of my female adult overlords went over how to select things for myself or how to know what size I am or any of that; mostly in those days, it was "hurry the fuck up" and "your chest is too small to need a good bra; this is what you're getting, now let's go." So up until this point, I had been making do with things made for sports or things that are ill-fitting. But… the nice ladies didn't make me feel stupid for not knowing what fits me. Instead, they took my measurements, and that was… interesting. It was interesting to consider the notion that I was worth that kind of time and effort.

So then, in order to confirm that their measurements were correct, they went and fetched some things for me to try on. And I tried them, and they didn't feel terrible, and that was also very interesting. And do you know what else? They told me I looked very pretty. And you know? Today, for at least a little while, I was able to believe them. Today at least, I looked in the changing room mirror and I didn't feel revulsion at what I saw. Now I know my measurements for certain kinds of clothing. I can use that information if I find pretty things that will fit me properly.

But when I went home and got on the website, I hesitated. Historically, I do not get any clothing for myself unless I'm forced to, due to something I own wearing out. Ordinarily, I'll go for years and years in between buying 1 or 2 clothing items. And… I still had some lingering doubts about whether or not I was "worth" getting comfy, pretty things in my size, given how I'm shaped; I have all these messages in my head from so many people telling me that the structural composition of my body is somehow a moral failing on my part instead of a function of my genetics. And that's very lame.

…So I defied the conditioning and I got the things. Because it is getting hot outside, and because, like any human being, I am already worth having comfortable things to wander around my house in, without needing to worry about what might happen if my neighbors are peering through my windows. I am already worth being comfortable. I am already worth feeling good in my own skin. We all are. And unless I take the steps to challenge the conditioning that tells me differently, I won't get good at knowing in my bones that I am worth something regardless of what I'm shaped like. Sometimes there is no easy way out of conditioning; sometimes you just gotta be brave and defy the old, destructive thing even if your brain is trying to make you feel ashamed and afraid.

…I wonder if you ever struggle with insecurities about your own appearance. I hope not; maybe your world is different from mine in that it's less concerned with people's bodily composition. But then again, maybe it's not different - after all, we all saw how Don Corneo is with women. And we know how your culture views modified humans as "monsters", which is some lame-ass horseshit. So if you do have your own set of insecurities about yourself, I'll hope that you'll put in the work to overcome them.

Hey, Sephiroth? If you had your choice of clothing, instead of whatever Shinra makes you wear, what would you pick? I think that colorful, bright things would suit you nicely, of course, but the most important thing to consider when it comes to selecting clothing is how comfortable YOU feel in it. Whatever you wear should, ideally, help you to feel more at home in your own skin. What would you feel at home in? Have you thought about it? And are you brave enough to make sure you have access to things that you would feel at home in? I wonder...

Anyway, I also got a rainbow butterfly cape, because I thought it was nifty! Check it out:

...It's super colorful!!! I love it!!! I'm gonna wear it tomorrow, just because!!!

I also have a few pictures of some cats I made friends with today, because after the mall, I went to the house of a different friend, who had lots of other friends over at the same time. This is Oliver (right) and Freya (left):

As you can see, they are both very cute!

...The nice thing about cats is that they don't care about what you look like; they only care about how safe they feel in your presence. I try hard to be someone that other living things can feel safe around. One of the best ways to become safe for others to be around is to become safe for yourself to be around first. I work on that every day with every self-destructive thought or habit that I challenge.

Well. That's probably all for today. I hope you'll think about defying whatever conditioning you have that says you should not love yourself. I'm certainly going to do my best to defy mine. Please try to remember that you are already worthy of feeling comfortable in your own skin.

I love you. I'll write again tomorrow. So please stay safe...

Your friend, Lumine

[yourlocalcorviddad]

Ok Ok so.

In dpxdc stories. Danny always gets assumed to be sick or uses it as an excuse or whatever to hide his powers right?

What if he wasn't lying?

It wasn't something easily noticed, not when half a dozen other things could explain it after all.

The shakes lingering? Well he'd used his ice powers a lot the night before fighting Skulker.

The faint feeling and lightheadedness? Well his mom had a good shot when people didn't interfere, and while he healed fast, it wasn't from nothing; he felt better after he ate anyway.

Heart racing suddenly? Probably just attempting to regulate the low beat on reflex again to seem normal but over shot it.

But the getting out of breath or spotty vision hadn't really been easily explained.

It was Mr. Lancer who asked about it after he'd gotten up from his seat in detention-happening less and less for actual reasons and more an opportunity to safely do his work and rest, after the truce with the ghosts to leave him and the town be during certain hours-only for the next thing he knew he was on the floor, head pillowed on Mr. Lancer's sweater, and a cool wet paper towel on his forehead and neck.

POTS. Post orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Not uncommon for those who had had injuries too their hearts to get.

It made sense when the teacher asked if he could have it. Apparently a friend of his's daughter had it.

From there, it made things easier to an extent. Salt was pretty easy to add, he figured out a wrist brace that he could extend into a cane if needed to.

In ghost form he didn't need it at all, but human form had its limits.

Despite all that he'd gone through, he graduates and even gets accepted to a college near jazz, hers was in Metropolis but Gotham had the ambient ectoplasm that he needed, and it was a day trip away.

And so Gotham U became his home, especially after his parents couldn't take that he wasn't "their son" anymore when he told them-after moving everything and getting his cheap apartment set up just in case. He considered it lucky that they loved their son enough they couldn't hunt "his ghost".

Last he'd heard they were working closer with the GIW but hadn't had much luck since the portal strangely closed soon after he left and the other ghosts didn't feel much reason to visit Amity anymore without him there.

It was Gotham U where he met Dick by literally fainting into his arms after a long day where he'd forgotten to eat and the early dinner the night before plus the going down the stairs at a quick pace and leaning forward with gravity.

"sorry, couldn't help falling for you~" the cheesy pick up line was the only thing his foggy brain could comprehend before he fainted.

[letitbehurt]

When Whumpee has worn a shock collar long enough to know what comes just before the pain, and all it takes to correct their behavior is Whumper’s hand drifting toward their pocket, where Whumpee knows they keep the remote.

The sudden flash of regret across their face as they hold out a placating hand and blurt, “Okay, okay, I’ll do it! I’m sorry, please don’t—“

[micamicster]

Spotify edit for THE GET DOWN BROTHERS from The Get Down (2016-2017)

Companion edit for Mylene Cruz & The Soul Madonnas

Credit where it’s due to @9clouds for the template psd I used for these edits. Thank you for making it available!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[allaboutforexworld]

Fibonacci Trading: Forex Trading Strategy Explained

Fibonacci trading is a popular forex trading strategy that utilizes the Fibonacci sequence and its ratios to predict potential price movements and retracement levels. This method helps traders identify entry and exit points, making it an essential tool in forex trading. Understanding Fibonacci Sequence The Fibonacci sequence is a series of numbers where each number is the sum of the two preceding…

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

my dad recently made the mistake of quoting roy's last words to me and had to endure my ten minute obsession-fuelled dissection of the ending and that scene in particular and all the symbolism. and i have come to the conclusion that i need to rewatch bladerunner NOW. ASAP. or i might actually start biting furniture

[todayisafridaynight]

Daigo has so many genuine connections, all these people who would stand by him regardless of if Tojo still exists. It just sort of feels like it plays to the way Masato is just chronically blind to the love around him and the strength of Ichiban's whole thing and surrounds himself purely with transactional relationships. It's the way Mine viewed the world before he met Daigo, but Masato is purposefully cultivating this environment around himself. Masato HAD those bonds where Mine didn't, but Masato's "those who use and those who are used" still feels like a worse distillation of Mine's philosophy, or at least that the two rhyme even if they aren't the same. Daigo originally defying Mine's worldview led to a longing to understand it and be a part of it; Daigo defying Masato's would probably just lead to more seething lol. Tojo going away, not only is just 'oops daigo already planned on that' robbing Masato of the satisfaction, idk it just further highlights that without being wrapped up in the status of Chair that these people are still with Daigo. Aoki bought his connections through lies and money and destroyed the only ones he sincerely had by following "use or be use" to its end, but Daigo could just fuck off anywhere he wanted and still have not just friendship but as Masato might see it absolute loyalty (esp in a Mine lives scenario; Aoki's lil pet bastard Kume's devotion is absolutely a speck vs **Mine** ). Both Aoki and Daigo can lose their positions of power, but its only Masato who feels like he's lost everything. sdfklfsjld idk goodbye anyway the brainrot is strong please keep going I'm here for every second

OK BUT LIKE. ALL OF THIS. ABOVE MY FIREPLACE AND FRAMED

the note bout mine and masato's worldviews IS SUCH an interesting point too: in essence they both believed the same thing (genuine bonds are a myth and people only use each other), it was just that mine held onto the small hope that he'd be wrong one day. by the time daigo does prove him wrong, he's almost automatically willing to accept it. his problem is that he became so attached to daigo that when the possibility of him being taken away became real, he went off the deep end

in masato's case. Lord he's a field day to explore psychologically maybe in another post, but he did have those bonds mine wanted so earnestly for more than half his life, exactly. ever since arakawa saved him- hell, even after sawashiro realized the life he inflicted upon him, masato was showered with nothing but love from the arakawa family. it's a wonder that despite that fact, masato still insisted he was neglected and alone. settling for relationships he knew were fake and for the most part temporary, he wanted to protect himself- he didn't want to be attached and become hurt and vulnerable again

it really is a cruel twist for masato and daigo and how they end up: despite daigo actually having grown up alone, that didn't stop him from having a warm and inviting attitude towards people and giving him a sizable amount of people who'd follow him to the ends of the earth. inversely, masato had become greedy and wanted more adoration, even if it was superficial or surface level.

[falinscloaca]

actively hilarious how bad the internet is at responding to ocd reassurance-seeking

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was in third grade I got Weird with writing. It makes sense in hindsight. Oppressed people find their own ways of carving out space for themselves.

The first bit I did landed me in trouble more immediately. I was given, god knows by who, one of those enormous giant pencils. I loved it. My tiny nine year old body was consumed with love of this pencil that was roughly 1/3 of my height. I insisted that I would only use this pencil in school.

It was an unlucky year to be stricken with whimsy. My third grade teacher was a tyrannical Japanese woman fueled by her dislike of children. I suspect the cultural divide between how she expected children to behave and the reality of American children broke her.

She was three foot nothing and getting berated by her was the first time I’d ever looked down at an adult. I also saw her once standing next to her white 6’ behemoth of a husband and tried to conceptualize how two such disparate people had sex. I never could.

If you think I’m exaggerating her wrath it’s worth noting that my best friend at the time developed a stress disorder from this woman and I fell into a bizarre stutter that cleared up the moment I was out of class. In her classroom breaking down crying was a weekly occurrence.

But despite the frigid conditions, I persevered. I stayed silly. I brought my enormous novelty pencil to class every day. It was an act of rebellion that I sank my teeth into and refused to let go. I could barely sharpen it because its girth defied standard sharpeners the way I defied my teacher. This was my pencil.

When she attempted to confiscate my giant pencil I rose an unholy ruckus. This would not turn into the confiscated holographic Charizard, my tamagotchi, or my little pop frogs that she never returned to me. No. This was my goddamn pencil. There was no rules against enormous novelty pencils and after a heated week of debate she finally conceded I could use the hated thing.

It was stolen by my kleptomaniac friend a week or so after that a fact I’d only discover at the end of the year. But my tiny mind was convinced the evil teacher had stolen it.

In retaliation, instead of resuming normal behavior I decided that I would do all my writing upside down and backwards. No one, least of all myself, could explain why I felt this was necessary. Maybe I felt I’d be cool like a spy, maybe I just needed to buck the teachers hateful authority, or maybe I was just a little autistic kid.

When taking notes or writing essays I’d arrange the paper to be upside down. It may surprise you to know that my penmanship was actually quite decent, albeit I wrote a little more slowly than my classmates. That’s why it took the teacher a while to realize what was going on. There wasn’t a drop in the quality of my writing.

Unsurprisingly she hated it when she found out. She lambasted me both privately and in front of the class to write normally. I asked if my writing was illegible. She had to admit that no, it was not. I shrugged. I did not see a problem.

Like the pencil my new writing fixation was cited as being a distraction to the other children. But similarly she didn’t have an easy way to make me stop. She marked me down, gave me several talking tos, and generally bullied me into writing like everyone else.

All attempts at correcting me simply ran off my back. I had found a way to cope with how miserable she made all of us, by inflicting misery back upon her. I was unswayed for the rest of the year.

When I graduated up into fourth grade and had a teacher I adored it suddenly stopped. I looked at the paper and thought, Well that’s silly, and flipped it the right way round.

I can still write upside down, though, a testament to my worst year in public school.

[allperfectpets]

Dogs with Down Syndrome: Understanding and Caring for Special Dogs

Dogs give pleasure, love, and friendship to a huge number of families all over the planet. They are known for their unqualified dependability and capacity to elevate our spirits. In any case, very much like people, Dogs can be brought into the world with hereditary circumstances that influence their turn of events and general wellbeing. One such condition is Down Disorder, which is regularly connected with people. Be that as it may, can Dogs have Down Disorder as well? In this extensive aid, we will dive into the universe of "Dogs with Down Syndrome." We will investigate how this condition affects our fuzzy companions, what it means for them, and the means we can take to give them the adoration and mind they merit.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aemond Targaryen - Shadow

Summary - In the bustling streets of King's Landing, a day of market escapades and a sweet surprise reveal the depth of Aemond's devotion to his wife. Their story defies the whispers and gossip of the realm, proving that true affection flourishes even in the heart of the coldest dragon.

Pairing - Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2267

Masterlist for Aemond • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Aemond, must you always look so miserable?" I teased as we strolled through the bustling markets and lively stalls of King's Landing, my arm looped through his.

He sighed, pulling me closer to his side. "I simply do not understand why we must do this ourselves. If you require anything, you know I can have it brought to you."

"But I enjoy going out myself," I insisted, stopping in front of an elderly woman's stall laden with vibrant dress fabrics and delicate laces.

Aemond frowned, his gaze dropping to my small, but growing bump. "I wish you wouldn't indulge in such whims, especially in your condition," he murmured, resting his hand protectively over our unborn child.

"If you do not start acting like you love me, I swear it, I will start weeping this instant," I threatened with a playful glint in my eye, as I sifted through a roll of golden fabric.

He arched an eyebrow, his tone softening. "I don't need to act like I love you if I already do," he countered, his voice gentle yet firm.

I handed the fabric to the vendor, her gnarled hands accepting it with a nod, and I couldn't help but smile at his words, a warmth spreading through me like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky.

"Well then," I replied, my tone brightening, "I suppose we're in perfect agreement."

"I suppose it's the chaos of the market that unsettles me," Aemond admitted, "I'd rather be certain of your safety." 

I pouted, feeling a pang of guilt at his concern. Leaning in, I pressed a quick, reassuring kiss to his cheek, hoping to lighten his worry.

The vendor soon returned, carefully folding the fabric and handing it back to me. "How much?" I asked, reaching into the small coin pouch at my side.

"For you, Princess, it is free," she said with a sweet, almost maternal smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

I shook my head, a soft laugh escaping my lips. "Nonsense," I replied, pulling out five golden coins and placing them in her hand.

The woman's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of shock and overwhelming gratitude."Oh, thank you, Princess," she said, her voice thick with emotions. "May the gods bless you and the babe."

Aemond and I began walking again, the vibrant energy of the market humming around us. He  took the fabric from my hands and passed it to Ser Arryk, who followed us with a vigilant but unobtrusive presence.

"Princess, you've paid far too much for this," Ser Arryk pointed out, his tone respectful but puzzled.

I shrugged lightly, glancing up at Aemond as he interlaced his fingers with mine. "If we can afford it, why not?" I replied, feeling a sense of contentment in the small act of kindness.

Aemond squeezed my hand gently, his gaze softening further as he looked down at me. "And now, where to?" he asked, his voice carrying a rare note of playfulness.

I paused for a moment, considering the options laid out before us in the lively market. "Perhaps the baker's," I suggested a playful glint in my eye.

Aemond chuckled, his grip on my hand tightening affectionately. "Lead the way, my love. Wherever you wish to go, I shall follow," he promised, his voice laced with warmth.

We made our way through the bustling streets to the baker's stall, the air heavy with the intoxicating aroma of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries. 

The display was a feast for the senses, with golden loaves, delicate pastries, and intricately decorated cakes all vying for attention. I couldn't resist the temptation and began picking out various treats, my eyes gleaming with delight as I selected a mix of sweet and savoury goods.

As the baker carefully wrapped my selections, I stepped to the side, my attention caught by a small cluster of cats lounging lazily in the warm sun by the side of the stall. 

Without a second thought, I dropped to the ground, the soft fabric of my dress pooling around me as I reached out to pet them. The cats responded instantly, purring contentedly as they nuzzled into my touch. 

I laughed softly, completely lost in the simple joy of the moment as I caressed their soft fur, marvelling at how they responded to my affection.

"Princess, your dress!" my handmaiden gasped, her voice filled with concern as she rushed to my side, her eyes wide with worry. "You'll ruin it!"

I looked up at her with a lighthearted smile, still stroking the contented cats. "It's alright," I reassured her gently, "I have others."

My handmaiden hesitated, clearly torn between her duty to maintain my dignity and her understanding of my spontaneous nature. Finally, she sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watched me continue to pet the cats.

Aemond stood a few paces away, his tall figure casting a shadow over us, but his expression was anything but dark. He watched me with a gaze so full of love and adoration that it seemed to soften his sharp features, a rare vulnerability shining in his eye. 

His usual stern demeanour was nowhere to be seen, instead, he looked utterly captivated, as if seeing me in this unguarded moment deepened his affection for me even further.

Finally, I tore myself away from the cats, rising from the ground with Aemond's hand extended to help me up. I dusted off my dress, smiling up at him as I did so. 

"Do you like cats?" Aemond asked, his voice curious, yet tinged with a softness that was rarely heard.

I looked at him incredulously, surprised that he didn't already know. "I love them," I confessed, a wistful smile playing on my lips. 

"When I was younger, I begged my mother to let me keep one, but she never allowed it. She was afraid they would distract me from my duties, that I'd spend more time with them than attending to my responsibilities."

Aemond's expression softened further, a thoughtful look crossing his face as we began our walk back to the Red Keep. 

"Mhm, I see," he replied, his tone nonchalant, but I could sense the wheels turning in his mind as the familiar walls of the Keep came into view.

As we reached the entrance, I turned to him, smiling softly. "I'm going to change, my love. I'll see you later," I said, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his lips before stepping away with a little wave.

He watched me go, his gaze lingering as my handmaiden and I started chatting animatedly about the gown that would be made from the gold fabric we had just purchased. 

We made our way through the corridors, our laughter echoing faintly as we envisioned the intricate designs and fine details that would soon bring the fabric to life.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Later that evening, I sat in our chambers, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of candles. My handmaiden was gently braiding my hair, her fingers deftly working as we prepared for bed. The tranquillity of the moment was soothing, the quiet hum of the Keep's night settling around us.

The door to our chambers opened softly, and I heard it close just as quietly. "Aemond?" I called out, not needing to turn around to know it was him.

"Yes, darling," he replied, his voice filled with a tender affection that made my heart flutter. 

My handmaiden finished the braid, tying it off with a delicate ribbon before giving me a small nod and excusing herself for the night.

Aemond strolled up behind me, his presence warm and comforting. He leaned down to place a quick, affectionate kiss in my hair, the familiar scent of him enveloping me as I turned to meet his gaze. 

His eye was alight with amusement, a rare smile playing on his lips.

"I have something for you," he said, his hands hidden behind his back, the hint of a playful grin on his face.

My curiosity piqued, I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" I asked, but before he could answer, I heard a faint, delicate whimper. My eyes widened in surprise as he slowly revealed what he had been hiding.

In his hands was a small, grey, fluffy kitten, its big eyes blinking up at me innocently. 

"She's yours to keep," Aemond said, his voice softening even more as he watched my reaction.

I gasped in delight, immediately reaching out to take the little bundle of fluff from him. The kitten was light as a feather in my hands, her soft fur brushing against my fingers as I brought her up to my face, inhaling the sweet, milky scent that only a kitten possesses.

"She's adorable," I murmured, my heart swelling with affection as I gently rested the tiny creature on my bump. The kitten settled in comfortably, her small, contented purrs vibrating against me as I stroked her with tender fingers.

Aemond watched me with an expression of pure love, his eye reflecting the warmth and joy of the moment. 

"I knew you would love her," he said quietly, his voice filled with satisfaction as he saw how happy the kitten made me.

I looked up at him, my eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you, Aemond. She's perfect," I whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly.

The kitten's purring grew louder as she nestled against me, already content in her new home. 

Aemond sat beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders as we both watched the kitten explore her new surroundings, her tiny paws padding across the bed.

"What will you name her?" he asked, his voice gentle as he turned his gaze from the kitten to me. I paused, a faint smile playing on my lips as I considered his question.

After a moment of thought, I turned to him, the smile widening as I made my decision.

"Vhagar," I declared, watching as Aemond's face fell. He glanced from the kitten back to me, his expression caught between disbelief and amusement.

"What? Both our pets can share the same name," I teased, nudging him playfully with my elbow.

Aemond shook his head, his lips twitching as he struggled to maintain a serious expression. 

"Vhagar is not a pet, she is a dragon, a fearsome one at that," he countered, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and incredulity. "And that little creature right there is nowhere near as terrifying as her," he added, pointing at the kitten.

As if on cue, the kitten leapt up, her tiny claws latching onto his finger with surprising determination. Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that," I said, gently prying the kitten from his finger and placing her back on my bump, where she settled down with a contented meow. 

I stroked her soft fur, feeling her tiny heartbeat against me, a protective instinct rising within me.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, a smile finally breaking through his composed facade. 

"What about Shadow?" he suggested, his voice softening as he watched me cradle the kitten.

I considered the name for a moment, glancing down at the little ball of fluff that was now dozing peacefully on my lap. 

"Shadow," I repeated, testing the name on my tongue. It felt right, a fitting name for a creature who was small and quiet, yet already held a special place in my heart.

"I like it," I decided, looking back up at Aemond with a smile. "Shadow it is."

Aemond's eye softened, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tender smile as he leaned in to kiss my forehead. "Shadow it is," he echoed, his voice a low murmur, filled with affection.

Aemond's kisses trailed down my neck, each one sending a shiver of warmth through me as he gently pushed my body back onto the bed. His intentions were clear, the familiar hunger in his touch unmistakable. But just as his lips grazed my collarbone, I placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back.

"Not in front of Shadow," I whispered, nodding toward the tiny kitten, her soft purring barely audible.

Aemond paused, his lips hovering just inches from my skin, his expression shifting from passionate to utterly bewildered. He pulled back slightly, his eye widening in disbelief as he looked from me to the kitten and back again. 

The look on his face was a perfect mix of surprise and incredulity as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a giggle at his reaction. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to bear, but I couldn't help but find it endearing. 

Aemond let out a dramatic huff, clearly resigned to the whims of our tiny observer. He gently lifted the kitten placing her carefully on the floor beside us.

He then turned his attention back to me, he reached out, his hands deftly guiding me as he manoeuvred our positions. With a swift, yet gentle motion, he pulled me on top of him, arranging us comfortably as he settled back onto the bed.

"There," he said with a note of triumph in his voice, his eye glinting with a mix of amusement and affection. "Now Shadow isn't watching."

After a thoughtful pause, I nodded in agreement, a smile spreading across my face. "You're right," I replied, my tone light and teasing.

With that, I leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Aemond's lips. The kiss was tender and filled with affection, a sweet affirmation of our connection. 

As our lips met, I felt the warmth of his love enveloping me, his arms encircling me as if to hold me in that perfect moment forever.

A/n -Welcome back Margaery Tyrell x

[extinctionstories]

On April 19th, 1987, a bird known as Adult Condor 9 was captured in the Bitter Creek National Wildlife Refuge, near Bakersfield, California. After decades ravaged by the threats of lead-poisoning and pesticide exposure, and intense debate over the ethics of captivity, it had been determined that captive breeding was the final hope to save a species. As his designation might suggest, AC-9 was the ninth condor to be captured for the new program; he was also the last.

As the biology team transported the seven-year-old male to the safety of the San Diego Wild Animal Park, his species, the California Condor, North America's largest bird, became extinct in its native range. It was Easter Sunday—a fitting day for the start of a resurrection.

At the time of AC-9's capture, the total world population of California condors constituted just twenty-seven birds. The majority of them represented ongoing conservation attempts: immature birds, taken from the wild as nestlings and eggs to be captive-reared in safety, with the intention of re-release into the wild. Now, efforts turned fully towards the hope of captive breeding.

Captive breeding is never a sure-fire bet, especially for sensitive, slow-reproducing species like the condor. Animals can and do go extinct even when all individuals are successfully shielded from peril and provided with ideal breeding conditions. Persistence in captivity is not the solution to habitat destruction and extirpation—but it can buy valuable time for a species that needs it.

Thankfully, for the California condor, it paid off.

The birds defied expectations, with an egg successfully hatched at the San Diego Zoo the very next year. Unlike many other birds of prey, which may produce clutches of up to 5 hatchlings, the California condor raises a single chick per breeding season, providing care for the first full year of its life, and, as a consequence, often not nesting at all in the year following the birth of a chick. This, combined with the bird's slow maturation (taking six to eight years to start breeding), presented a significant challenge. However, biologists were able to exploit another quirk of the bird's breeding cycle: its ability to double-clutch.

Raising a single offspring per year is a massive risk in a world full of threats, and the California condor's biology has provided it with a back-up plan: in years when a chick or egg has been lost, condors will often re-nest with a second egg. To take advantage of this tendency, eggs were selectively removed from birds in the captive breeding program, which would then lay a replacement, greatly increasing their reproduction rate.

And what of the eggs that were taken? The tendency of hatchlings to imprint is well-known, and the intention from the very beginning was for the birds to one day return to the wild—an impossibility for animals acclimated to humans. And so, puppets were made in the realistic likeness of adult condors, and used by members of the conservation team to feed and nurture the young birds, mitigating the risk of imprintation on the wrong species.

By 1992, the captive population had more than doubled, to 64 birds. That year, after an absence of five years, the first two captive-bred condors were released into their ancestral home. Many other releases followed, including the return of AC-9 himself in 2002. Thanks to the efforts of zoos and conservationists, as of 2024 there are 561 living California condors, over half of which fly free in the wilds of the American West.

The fight to save the California condor is far from over. The species is still listed as critically endangered. Lead poisoning (from ingesting shot/bullets from abandoned carcasses) remains the primary source of mortality for the species, with tagged birds tested and treated whenever possible. Baby condors are fed bone chips by their parents, likely as a calcium supplement—but, to a condor, bits of bone and bits of plastic can be indistinguishable, and dead nestlings have been found with stomachs full of trash.

There's hope, though. There are things we can change, things we can counteract and stop from happening in the future. It was a human hand that created this problem, and it will take a human hand to fix it. Hope is only gone when the last animal breathes its last breath—and the California condor is still here.

-

This painting is titled Puppet Rearing (California Condor), and is part of my series Conservation Pieces, which focuses on the efforts and techniques used to save critically endangered birds from extinction. It is traditional gouache, on 22x30" paper.

[allaboutforexworld]

Range Trading: Forex Trading Strategy Explained

Range trading is a popular forex trading strategy that involves identifying key support and resistance levels, and then buying at the support level and selling at the resistance level. This method capitalizes on the predictable price movements within a defined range. Understanding and mastering range trading can enhance a trader’s ability to profit in markets that are not trending. What is Range…

[allthenewsworld]

Ana Victoria Espino De Santiago has made history the world's first lawyer with Down syndrome, graduating with a Law degree from Benemérita Universidad Autónoma de Zacatecas (BUAZ). 🇲🇽🎓

Read more at the link 👇👇

Born on January 30, 1999, in Zacatecas, Ana Victoria has consistently defied expectations, proving her condition is no barrier to success.

Supported by her parents, Ana Victoria excelled in education and the arts, even showcasing her paintings at prestigious exhibitions. In 2019, she pursued a career in law, driven by her passion for human rights.

Her goal is to open doors for people with disabilities, advocating for their rights and aspiring to become a local deputy. Ana Victoria's achievement highlights that nothing is impossible.

Congratulations Ana Victoria! 👏

#latinos #mexico #law #lawdegree #allthenews