No One Said I Had To Practice Arms To Go With The Hands

Hello 😏

Apparently a part of the reason why farmed bees stay in the beehives that humans build for them is because the farm hives are safer and sturdier. I don't know how a busy Discord server's worth of bugs that only have one brain cell each would logically conclude that the humans protect them from outside threats, illness and parasites, but if I understood right, the bees would be free to move away and build a new nest somewhere else any time they'd want, and they simply choose not to.

You know how in almost every culture, people have some concept of "if I sacrifice something that I made/grew/produced to the Gods, they will ward me and my harvest from evil"?

So, in a way, don't the bees willingly sacrifice a part of their harvest to an entity not only far greater than them, but nearly beyond their comprehension, in exchange for protection against natural forces wildly outside of their own control?

So tell me, beekeepers, what are you to your bees, if not a mildly eldritch God?

suicidal knight in a king's retinue looking for any excuse to fall on his own sword with honor but the king always stops him because he "still has need for him yet"

#ficfecs

art for chapter 2 from @quitequaintrelle s wonderful south downs fic we shall have the world for our own 🦩🦩

i love this fic so much and i encourage everyone to read it!

to quote the author:

"If it is your deeply cherished belief that Aziraphale and Crowley are cartoon characters who should get to spend their South Downs retirement as old queens being disgustingly romantic losers who can't keep their hands off each other and won't stop beefing with local senior citizens, this story might be for you."

A story within a story where a mother sits her rowdy children down and tells them a story about a the world's sweetest, kindest mother who never lost her temper, never cursed and never yelled at her children, no matter how rowdy they could get. She would only gently, kindly told them to not do the dangerous things. One day she sweetly, kindly told her children to not go play at the riverbank, because it's dangerous and they might slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die. Her children do not listen. They go play at the riverbank, where they slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die.

And the sweet perfect mother of the story comes to the riverbank, sees that all her children drowned, and starts crying so bitterly that angels overhear her, and the angels say to each other, "she does not deserve this, this woman has never done anything wrong in her life, this should not have happened to her", and feeling great pity for her, bring her children back to life, and after that they always listened to their mother and lived happily ever after.

And the storyteller's children, who at this point are familiar with the concept that these stories are supposed to have some sort of a moral or lesson in them, interject to point out that their mother hasn't always done everything perfectly, she isn't always sweet, curses a lot, and as a matter of fact loses her shit at her kids all the time. She isn't like the mother of the story at all.

And their mother agrees: Her children are correct. She is not a perfect mother who has never done anything wrong. Angels will not have pity on her, and they will not bring her little shits back to life if they go to the river and die. So they better fucking not go get themselves killed in the first place.

name 2 foods with the same ingredients that otherwise bear no similarities whatsoever?

Coming Out

I came out to my mom yesterday, and she’s pretty supportive. But now she wants me to explain what it means in ‘old people words’. I have died. 

I have to explain NoN-BiNaRY!!!! mANDf dEmIsExUAl

Thing I heard my siblings say:

"trash goes in the burn pile and food goes in the compost. Pick which one you are!"

“Your first scout assignment: Go into the forest, find a person, and burn them alive!”

“Welcome to Hell! We’ll roast you but first you need to have muscle... Welcome to your personal Hell. EXERCISE!!!!!”

“You can’t simp for a 20-year-old emotionally stunted emo with daddy issues. He’s just the genderbent version of you in 5 years.” 

“Welcome to Femboy Hooters!” “You cant work there, you don’t have abs.” “I can steal them from the football team.”

“I want your KnEEcAps!” “I already sold them on Ebay”

Younger Brother to the older brother:  YB:“are you going to the bathroom?” OB:“yes” YB:“Cool”-proceeds to run out of bedrom with pants half on- OB:”No!”