I swear if we are gonna get a scene of Crowley’s fall in the next season, I will not be okay… I will not recover from that! 😫
I did add this piece to my InPrnt, if you wanna grab a physical copy! ♥️
"Double Edge" Is a legendary unique sword that is available for a handful of copper. It is the sharpest and strongest weapon in existence. It also talks, and roasts the living hell out of its owner constantly, pulling no punches. Write a story of one of its many, many owners.
do you guys think jesus, the son of a carpenter, smelt the wood of the cross & temporarily thought of home
“when ur a mother” I am basically still a child hello????
Ace culture is feeling triggered when your parents or younger siblings say when you'll be a mother you'll...
Like I don't plant to unless adoption, but I'm like, 15 so wtf r u talking about??
fyi the point of fucking up your data patterns isnt to avoid suspicion. it’s to make EVERYONE suspicious. same logic as the bloc, pals. protect your comrades, be suspicious. ESPECIALLY if you aren’t doing anything likely to get you arrested.
remember when good omens (2019) came out and neil gaiman made it clear in no uncertain terms that angels and demons were inherently nonbinary, that angels and demons (and crowley in particular) can and Do have a variety of presentations that they choose for themselves, and that the story is a Love Story between two nonbinary entities fighting for their right to love each other openly in the face of religiously charged black and white thinking that’d forced them to hide and deny their love for each other at the threat of punishment.
and then instead of celebrating the openly queer, openly trans, openly fluid and neutral and non-conforming relationships and people presented by the series people were just Legitimately like “Wow, can’t believe neil won’t say that aziraphale and crowley are gay (read: Cis) men, looks like queerbaiting is alive and well 🙄“ and nobody stopped them
i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).
shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.
i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.
when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.
anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.
This small corner of the world
Giving me a chance to step into an another
That's all I've ever wanted
And yet this melancholy ache I feel
All these friends have moved on
And I'm still behind trying to reach the cliff
Will the cliff be my flight or fall?
The questions keep me awake and fragile
And the expectations pull me into a slumber
Didn't see it coming, loved where it was going
Those doors I never had the key for were unlocked
How do I close them back now that you took away the key when you left?
I am a rock in most weathers, for me and everyone else
But there comes once in a season shift and I fall apart albeit for a moment
In that vulnerability lies what I wish to conquer
A chance to step into another world, for better or for worse
I want to find out
hey, don’t cry. one half flour one half yogurt knead into dough and fry for easy flatbread and dip in balsamic vinegar, okay?
refseek.com
www.worldcat.org/
link.springer.com
http://bioline.org.br/
repec.org
science.gov
pdfdrive.com
My dad has bees. Today, I went to his house and he showed me all the honey he had gotten from the hives. He took the lid off a 5-gallon bucket full of honey and on top of the honey there were 3 little bees, struggling. They were covered in sticky honey and drowning. I asked him if we could help them and he said he was sure they wouldn't survive. Casualties of honey collection I suppose.
I asked him again if we could at least get them out and kill them quickly, after all he was the one who taught me to put a suffering animal (or bug) out of its misery. He finally conceded and scooped the bees out of the bucket. He put them in an empty Chobani yogurt container and put the plastic container outside.
Because he had disrupted the hive with the earlier honey collection, there were bees flying all over outside.
We put the 3 little bees in the container on a bench and left them to their fate. My dad called me out a little while later to show me what was happening. These three little bees were surrounded by all their sisters (all of the bees are females) and they were cleaning the sticky nearly dead bees, helping them to get all of the honey off of their bodies. We came back a short time later and there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters.
When it was time for me to leave, we checked one last time and all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.
Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free.
Bee Sisters. Bee Peers. Bee Teammates.
We could all learn a thing or two from these bees.
Bee kind always.