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“Look,” said the demon. “This is the 13th time you’ve summoned me to sell your soul. My boss wants to know where you’re getting all these souls.”
primadonna worm.... yeah... all i ever wanted was the dirt
only reblog today
Reblog to wish SpongeBob good luck on his boating exam today
A papa & his babies
(Names helpfully provided by my friends)
Inspired by @lacnunga 's adorable dragon embroidery
The baby so far 🐉 still got a few bits to add but Im quite happy with it so far
i can't watch movies containing naval warfare for the same reason some horse lovers can't watch historic war movies where horses get shot
yes, i know the cannonballs aren't real. yes, i understand the ships are only pretending to sink. and yet, I am distress
Don't worry! The boats just turn into submarines when the sink! They don't actually take any damage, they just travel underwater to get a snack for being such good boats!
logically i know this, but it's still reassuring to hear someone say it out aloud
And! When they do a really really really good job they are given boat belly rubs! and an extra warm boat bath! I am glad I could be of help to reassure you my friend!
why do we praise boats like this boats are an invasive species and danger to the ocean and all of its natural wildlife like sharks and shipwreaks
okay wow that is a MASSIVE generalization, the boat genus has evolved over thousands of years and consists of hundreds of subspecies many of which are perfectly capable of living as part of a balanced aquatic ecosystem. boats aren't automatically evil just because *you personally* think they're big and scary.
@is-the-boat-video-cute your professional opinion?
Rating: Cute!
While there are invasive boat species (see: most species of yacht), most species of boat are fully acclimated to their environment!
this is my favourite genre of Tumblr post
what can i say tumblr loves shipping
#the last line really helped the whole bit sink in
sleepy tired but coffee machine at work can make hot cock so I'm surviving
HOT CHOCO I MEAN HOT CHOCO
please don't do this to me
Its funny that the council is keeping an eye on human launched stuff given that we have definitely sent a "is anyone out there?" into space, along with a lot of animal sounds i think.
Humans: desperately ringing the phone and waiting for someone to answer
Everyone: Humans are so evil and only want death
I love miscommunications :)
humans: is anyone out there?
the rest of space, terrified: n-no,
Reading this might make this make a little more sense
"Come, come, we'll take my ship. There is not much time now. Also, the Vajeeth is the faster between yours and ours. plus, we can stow your little toy in the hangar of ours." The Orcthraheth Ambassador seemed almost close to picking the humans up and tucking them under their arms.
The humans didn't give much argument. They were curious enough to roll with it, and to be honest, none of them wanted to even be at the Galactic Union meeting. It seemed a waste of time. Three warps later and the delegations were entering Orcthraheth solar space. The humans crowded the window, the Orcthraheth crews that weren't busy watching with glee at the reactions of the Terrans.
"THAT PLANET!" One of the scientists in the human delegation slapped her crewmate on the shoulder and pointed, "It's a parallel bi-orbital planet. And it's in the Goldilocks zone! It's been theorized but never witnessed..."
The warp in was taking them in from above the solar system. It allowed them to witness the pair of planets and their matching moons in orbit to a sun, not unlike their own. As the humans took stock of it all, the whole system seemed almost identical to their own.
The ship veered into one last warp and they pulled into orbit outside a quiet, uninhabited planet. The delegations switched to a smaller drop ship that was mostly windows. The Orcthraheth ambassador grew pensive and somber as they got closer to the planet. The humans on board saw overgrown but preserved buildings. Eerie in their similarity to what they built on Earth.
"What is this place," The Terran ambassador whispered.
"Home."
And despite the humans' explosion of questions, the Orcthraheth would say no more. They approached a landing platform that was meticulously cared for. More so than any other structure. The ship docked with expert care. The Orcthraheth opened the doors and pointed the humans towards an open bay door at the end of the ramp.
"What-"
The Orcthraheth ambassador's gentle touch on the human's cheek silenced her. They pointed towards the door and gave a gentle shove towards it.
The architecture and structures that surrounded them was uncanny. There a was a feeling to the place, something that couldn't be put into words. The hall in front of them lit up indicating a path. Through the corridors decommissioned robots stood motionless. Some looking as if they'd been there centuries. As if they'd stopped mid tasked and ceased functioning.
The hall emptied them into a command center, equal in it's uncanniness to everything else around the building. A lone robot sat in a chair, cables leading in to it. With a painful sound of shrieking gears it turned to face them, standing in one fluid motion. It's age seemed to fall away from it as it scanned the Terrans.
It ran up to them, laughing. The humans were too shocked to react as it picked each of them up, one by one, spinning them around in a hug and brushing it's hand through their hair. It's touch was gentle on their cheeks as it greeted each of them.
"Y-y-y-you've come ho-o-o-o-me," The robot's head ticked, sparking with the sound of grinding gears, "Loo-ook, at-t-t you-ou. O-oh, ju-ust loo-ook. It's been eons since you sent the Spark off to that baby planet. Oh, my cre-e-ators. We've spent ages healing this planet after you we-ent extinct. Pre-pre-paring it for the time you'd come home, healthy, and cured."
The robot's legs gave out, dropping it to it's knees. It rested it's forehead against the ambassador's. The human stroked the smooth shell of it's head, she was hugging the robot still as it rested in the crook of her neck.
"We knew you'd be back. I knew you'd be back. We saved everything, your history here, your art, it's all here. We waited. I waited. I waited. You built us. Raised us. Like the children you couldn't have anymore. And we waited. We waited. I waited. I waited. We did g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-good? I did good? I did good."
"Shh, shh, shh, you did great honey. You were amazing. Look at how well you all did. How well you did."
"I was so l-o-o-o-o-nely." The robot rasped through grinding gears.
"We're home now. It's okay, we're home. You did amazing."
"I'm so-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o," the robot went limp in the ambassador's arms. A loud pop from its smooth metal skull echoed in the chamber followed by a puff of smoke. The sound of it's gears fell silent.
doot doot
d o o t d o o t
doot doot
doot doot
Just because one of your chicken eggs hatched a fire breathing dragon people think you’re evil. But you’re still just a regular farmer trying to make a living while dealing with an overprotective dragon, heroes that want to kill you and fanatics who want to worship you as the new Demon Lord.
The thing you need to know about all of this, the thing that got me into all this trouble in the first place, is that chickens will sit on anything when they get broody enough. Anything. Duck eggs, goose eggs, turkey eggs, lizard eggs, egg shaped rocks, anything. Chickens aren’t smart. If it looks vaguely like an egg, they’ll plant their feathery arses on it and wait.
I noticed that there was a bigger egg under one of the broody chickens, when I checked. Of course I noticed, it was twice the size of the others. But I have geese. I figured it was a goose egg she’d found and stolen. It was about the right size, and I didn’t take it out to check the colour because that particular chicken gets very protective of her eggs. I’ve already got a scar on one hand from trying to get eggs away from her. I didn’t want a matched set.
That was a decision I regretted the moment I went out to feed the chickens and found a little blue-and-silver dragonet’s head poking out from under a very confused-looking chicken. The poor thing kept shifting around and looking under herself in a bewildered way, like she didn’t know what to do next. This particular chicken is a good mother, and she’s raised clutches of ducks and geese without any trouble – she’s even resigned to some of her children swimming – but this was too much. She didn’t object when I carefully reached in and fished out the little dragon.
It was so tiny, then. It fitted in my hand, with its little head peeking out one side and its tail looping around my wrist. Cute, too, with its big eyes and little snout turned up towards me.
That was when I made my second mistake. I decided to feed it before releasing it. Dragons are innately wild creatures, everyone knows that. They can’t be tamed. People have tried. The eggs are abandoned as soon as they are laid, and the dragonets hatch able to hunt, so they don’t even bond with their mothers. So just feeding it a little shouldn’t have been a big deal. It should have gobbled the meat and fled as soon as I loosened my grip on it and it saw the open sky.
It didn’t. As soon as I’d fed it, it fluttered up to a sunny window ledge and went to sleep. I went about my work, figuring that it’d leave in its own time.
By noon, it was sitting on my boot, squeaking pathetically. I wondered if maybe it was confused by the farmyard – they usually hatch in mountains, if the stories are right – so I took it back to the farmhouse with me and fed it again when I ate, then took some time away from the fences I should have been mending to walk it up to the hills. I found it some nice rocks, with plenty of lizards and beetles and suitable prey for something that size. It pounced on a beetle almost as soon as I put it down, and when I left it was crunching happily.
I hadn’t walked a quarter of the way back before something hit the back of my boot. The little dragon was holding on with all four claws, and when I looked down it squeaked pathetically. If possible, its eyes got even rounder.
Listen, you don’t make it as a farmer if you just let orphaned baby animals die. We hand-raise calves and lambs and ponies, set chickens to sit on abandoned eggs, or put them under the kitchen stove or by a fireplace. You don’t make a success of farming if you don’t value every animal. A good shepherd will spend all night looking for one lost sheep. So despite what was said later, it wasn’t just sentiment that made me sigh and pick up the little thing and carry it back to the farm. I am a good farmer. I don’t let orphaned babies die just because they’re a little work.
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