#apiology

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Wool-Carder Bees: these solitary bees harvest the soft, downy hairs that grow on certain plants, rolling them into bundles and then using the material to line their nests

Wool-carder bees build their nests in existing cavities, usually finding a hole/crevice in a tree, a plant stem, a piece of rotting wood, or a man-made structure, and then lining the cavity with woolly plant fibers, which are used to form a series of brood cells.

The fibers (known as trichomes) are collected from the leaves and stems of various plants, including lamb’s ear (Stachys byzantina), mulleins, globe thistle, rose campion, and other fuzzy plants.

From the University of Florida's Department of Entomology & Nematology:

The female uses her toothed mandibles to scrape trichomes off fuzzy plants and collects a ball of the material under her abdomen. She transports these soft plant fibers to her selected nest site and uses them to line a brood cell. Next, she collects and deposits a provision of pollen and nectar into the cell, enough pollen to feed a larva until it is ready to pupate. Lastly, she lays a single egg on top of the pollen and nectar supply before sealing the cell. ... She will repeat this process with adjoining cells until the cavity is full.

These are solitary bees, meaning that they do not form colonies or live together in hives. Each female builds her own nest, and the males do not have nests at all.

Female wool-carder bees will sometimes sting if their nest is threatened, but they are generally docile. The males are notoriously aggressive, however; they will often chase, head-butt, and/or wrestle any other insect that invades their territory, and they may defend their territory from intruders up to 70 times per hour. The males do not have stingers, but there are five tiny spikes located on the last segment of their abdomen, and they often use those spikes when fighting. They also have strong, sharp mandibles that can crush other bees.

There are many different types of wool-carder bee, but the most prolific is the European wool-carder (Anthidium manicatum), which is native to Europe, Asia, and North Africa, but has also become established as an invasive species throughout much of North America, most of South America, and New Zealand. It is the most widely distributed unmanaged bee in the world.

A few different species of wool-carder bee: the top row depicts the European wool-carder, A. manicatum (left) and the spotted wool-carder, Anthidium maculosum (right), while the bottom row depicts the reticulated small-woolcarder, Pseudoanthidium reticulatum, and Porter's wool-carder, Anthidium porterae

Sources & More Info:

University of Florida: The Woolcarder Bee

Oregon State University: European Woolcarder Bees

Bohart Museum of Entomology: Facts about the Wool Carder Bee (PDF)

Bumblebee Conservation Trust: A. manicatum

World's Best Gardening Blog: European Wool Carder Bees - Likeable Bullies

Biological Invasions: Global Invasion by Anthidium manicatum

[noosphe-re]

Melittology (from Greek μέλιττα, melitta, "bee"; and -λογία -logia) is a branch of entomology concerning the scientific study of bees. It may also be called apiology or apicology. Melittology covers the species found in the clade Anthophila within the superfamily Apoidea, comprising more than 20,000 species, including bumblebees and honey bees.

Wikipedia

[dontfuckingbother]

this reminded me that in my catholic school we had team projects right, or kahoots or something. And since i was ESPECIALLY PERSUASIVE i always managed to name my team "cloaca" since i couldn't name it something dirty and i wanted to fuck with the rules a bit.

Unrelated, the teachers hated me

The faces of a cloaca deprived imp.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Beekeeping Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Apiary - (or bee yard) The location honey bee colonies are kept in bee hives by a beekeeper.

Apiculture - (or beekeeping) The maintenance and raising of honey bee colonies by a beekeeper.

Apiology - The study of honey bees.

Bee bread - A mix of pollen, honey, and royal jelly prepared by the nurse bee for feeding the bee larvae, the drones and the queen.

Field bees - (or foragers) Worker bees that are usually 3 or more weeks old and work outside to collect nectar, pollen, water, and propolis. They are the ones more likely to sting.

Guard bees - Workers bees about 3 weeks old that have their maximum amount of alarm pheromone and venom. They challenge all incoming bees and other intruders.

Honey flow - (or nectar flow) An abundant source of nectar from trees and plants being collected by bees.

Nectar - A liquid rich in sugars, produced by plants and secreted by nectary glands in their flowers. Honey bees collect nectar as the raw material for producing honey.

Requeen - To replace an existing queen by removing her and introducing a new queen.

Sealed honey - (or capped honey) Honey that has fully ripened by bees and covered with cappings of wax.

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists

[theemporium]

It was supposed to be an innocent meeting.

You were a good student—an excellent one even. You chose your classes wisely, you didn’t let your grade drop and fluctuate much. You were sweet to your professors, you volunteered when you had free time, you excelled in your extracurriculars. You were the model student, the kind of student that other college students envied because you made it look so easy even if it was far from it.

Professor Sebastian Vettel’s class on apiology was right up your alley. You knew you were leaning more towards the environmental sciences for your major, but it also worked well with the credits you needed for the semester. And maybe it sounded a little cocky, but you didn’t think you would have much trouble in the class of one of the university’s most beloved professors. 

But you were wrong. 

You were struggling. You were struggling badly and it was starting to affect your overall grade for the year. And after receiving a disappointing mark on the last paper, you had sent Professor Vettel a pleading email for any extra credit projects that could help you boost your grade up. 

You tried not to feel disheartened when he replied that he doesn’t really do extra credit projects, but he advised you to visit his office on a Thursday night, just after his office hours. He told you he could see your potential and he just wanted to help a bright student shine in a class where you could be excelling in. 

You didn’t hesitate to accept his offer, thanking him immensely when you did.

You tried to ignore the way your heart stuttered when you walked through his office door after knocking, finding him sitting behind his desk. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned and exposing his chest, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and, maybe it was the ambient light of the lamp beside him, but he looked far more casual and relaxed than he did in his classes. 

He greeted you with a soft smile and gestured towards the seat across from where you quickly settled down, tucking your hands under your thighs as you tried to ease the tightness in your chests. 

You hadn’t even meant to daze out when he started going over your last paper, but his words were going in one ear and out the other, and you just couldn’t focus on the words coming out his mouth when your eyes were so focused on the shape of his lips as he moved. It took an embarrassingly long time for you to realise he had stopped speaking, just looking at you expectantly as you flushed under his gaze.

“Come here.”

You blinked. “What?” 

“Come here,” he repeated again as he nodded towards his side of the desk. “I think it will help you to understand your mistakes if we look over it together.” 

“I—” You started but you cut yourself short as you hesitantly stood up, making your way around the desk. You paused as you stood by his seat, keeping your hands together as you glanced down at his laptop before glancing back at him. “Should I move a seat—”

“Sit down,” he said, his voice soft and commanding.

Your brows furrowed together. “What?”

“Sit down,” Sebastian repeated, his eyes darting down to his lap before looking back at you. “I won’t repeat myself.”

And maybe you should have just walked out of the office. Or even drag a chair around like you assumed he would want you to do. Maybe you should have done a lot of other logical things, but logic was never your forte when you were around Professor Vettel.

You cautiously lowered yourself onto his lap, perched on the edge like you were afraid to fully put your weight on him. And he let that slide—for a while at least. 

But as the minutes passed, his hands went from resting on the armrests to casually holding onto your waist. He leaned forward to point something out on his laptop, his lips right by your ear as he spoke but when he sat back, he pulled you back with him until your back was flushed against his chest. 

And despite your better judgement, you couldn’t help but give into every single one of his touches. 

“You’re squirming.”

You blinked, feeling your cheeks burn as you rose to stand up. “I’m sorry—”

His grip tightened on your waist, keeping your ass pressed against him. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” he continued, his thumbs rubbing up and down in a soothing movement. “I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” 

“I am, sir.” 

His hands fisted the material of your skirt in his hands. “Are you?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his warm palms on your thighs. “Sir—”

“Is there a problem?” He asked, his voice dropping a little as you resisted the urge to clench your thighs together.

“Should we be doing this?” You whispered.

“Do you want me to stop?” Sebastian retorted.

“No,” you said, a little high-pitched and whiny as your hand darted out to grip his wrist, to keep his hands on you. “Don’t…don’t stop.”

Because you didn’t want him to stop even if a part of you knew it was wrong. You didn’t want him to stop as his hands trailed up your thighs and under your skirt. You didn’t want him to stop as his fingers lightly teased you over your cotton panties. You didn’t want him to stop as he slowly slid your panties down your legs until they pooled at your ankles, his fingers buried deep inside you before you could even kick them off.

“Please,” you sobbed, your face tucked into the crook of his neck as you squirmed on his lap. But he didn’t give in.

“You wanted to discuss your paper,” Sebastian said, lightly slapping your inner thigh until your teary eyes were focused on his laptop screen again. “Don’t be greedy now, schatz.”

“Sir,” you whined, your hips bucking against his palm but he didn’t move his fingers. 

“Good girls only get to come when they do their work,” Sebastian continued, trying to bite back his smirk as you leaked down his wrist and your own thighs. “Do you want to be a good girl?”

You nodded, whimpering. 

“Then, focus on the screen. And then maybe I’ll let you come, if you’re a good student f’me, yeah?”

And it was far from the last paper you would meet Professor Vettel to discuss in his office after his office hours.

.

[psychic-refugee]

Wenvier Bingo - Professors

Thank you @heavenlyvixen for being a sounding board for my ideas. I wouldn't have the inspo for this without you. I'm sure some of the dialogue will seem familiar. 😜

Eugene was buzzing with excitement to attend Innsmouth University. It was the premier school for melittology with a focus on apiology, a branch of entomology. He found his people in the science department, and although he got tired of repeating and dumbing down what his field of study was for his degree, he was able to succinctly tell people:

“I’m gonna study honeybees.”

If it were up to him, he’d spend all his class time in the biology department or working in the apiary club called the Hummers.

But alas, Innsmouth had a general studies requirement and encouraged students to be “well rounded.”

So, he took a painting and a creative writing course.

The two professors could not be more different.

Professor “Call me Xavier” Thorpe taught Intro to Painting. Professor Thorpe, Eugene was never going to call a Professor by their first name as it was ingrained in him since private preschool to never be so informal with a teacher, was talented and knew what he was talking about when it came to colour theory and technique.

But he was the most unserious professor Eugene had ever come across.

Professor Thorpe wore camo pants to class, he was often mistaken for a student by other members of the faculty, invited his students to picnics on the quad, and often took the class on field trips to art museums where he wasn’t afraid to get down and dirty to kneel or squat when enthusiastically educating them on the artwork.

Even for the decorative molding which wasn’t technically part of the exhibit, Professor Thorpe saw art in everything.

Eugene could admire and respect the love of art Professor Thorpe had…but was baffled when the professor was found asleep on one of the art exhibits on campus and he wondered how he kept his job.

Then there was Professor Addams. She never offered for anyone to call her by her first name, but she was the type of severe teacher that Eugene was convinced she didn’t have a first name. Her name was Professor Addams, and no one could tell him otherwise.

She taught creative writing and specialized in the macabre and mystery genre. She even had a popular series based on a heroine named Viper de la Muerte. He was surprised she was even teaching as there was a rumour on campus that she had just gotten movie deals for her series.

Professor Addams was the consummate professional. She was always pristinely dressed and well put together, and she put the fear of God into her students. So much so that they jokingly said The Devil Wrote Mystery Novels, and when she walked across campus, people got out of her way.

One day, when someone said she was married to Professor Thorpe, Eugene literally laughed out loud and went about his classes. When others tried to convince him that the beautiful creative writing professor was married to the goofiest teacher Eugene ever had, he laughed again.

It wasn’t until he saw them kissing under a gnarled oak tree on the quad, did he finally give credence to the rumours.

“How in the hell are those two married?” he asked his classmates while at the art studio, before Professor Thorpe arrived. He would never have done it in Professor Addams’ class, too afraid she might accidentally overhear.

He looked around, paranoid she may be around the corner.

“I know, right?” Pugsly could only laugh as it was a ridiculous thought. “They’re so opposite of each other.”

“And not just in demeanor and how they dress,” Yoko added, “He’s a tall and she’s a smol.”

The class laughed as they got their supplies together.

“She’s like a tiny koala and he’s a eucalyptus tree,” someone else commented.

“Yeah, I bet she climbs him like a tree,” Yoko said suggestively. That was when the girls in the class heartily agreed and giggled.

Eugene just rolled his eyes. While he thought Professor Thorpe was goofy as hell, many of the women on campus swooned over his 6' 2" height, dreamy green eyes, and heart stopping dimples.

Their words, not his.

Despite his bafflement at their relationship, they both ignited a love for the arts in him. After that semester, he decided to double major in writing and did painting as a hobby.

The Hummers’ beehives were treated to a makeover and had never been as colourful and beautiful.

He happily consulted with Professor Addams on how one might die from a swarm of honeybees for her next novel.

He gave both professors excellent reviews on RateMyProfessor.com.

Card under cut

[sarahthecoat]

ooh, i've read some of these, and they are wonderful. gotta add another massive favorite that i have re read several times:

Heyyy~ have you got some Broken!Sherlock fanfics? (Or depress, hurt... or something like that? Thanks :)

Absolutely, nonny. These are favorites, all with happy endings, because that’s how I like it:

Sherlock Holmes, Recovering Sociopath (5k, G, friends to lovers, s4 fixit). After Sherrinford, Sherlock and John begin to really talk.

Hiraeth (2k, T, friends to lovers, sort-of fantasy). This made me cry. Sherlock and John meet after death, because of course they do: they can’t get away from each other.

It’s the Landing (1k, G, love confession of a sort, s4 interstice). Sherlock is dying, but he can’t be, because he’s already done that once and there are things he needs to tell John.

Kintsukuroi (90k, E, friends to lovers, s4 fixit) by @sussexbound. Admitting they’re in love is only the beginning: they have so many wounds it hurts to reach out, or to be held.

Darkest Days, Finest Hours (12k, M, friends to lovers) by @blueink3. Rosie Watson is kidnapped. Sherlock feels it like a father would, but he can’t say so, because he doesn’t know what he is to her and John.

The Alphabet Vignettes  (28k, M, friends to lovers). A series of perfect little stories about Sherlock and John, ranging from grief to joy and from London to Sussex.

The Closing of the Day (2k, T, love confession in a way, post s4) by @sussexbound. The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot, wherein John discovers he is loved.

A Home for Us (30k, M, friends to lovers, reunion fixit, casefic) by @sussexbound. They warn John first: Sherlock is alive. He’s coming back. He’ll meet you soon. It’s enough to bring John to Baker Street, but it takes a good deal more than that to help them heal.

The Men Who Talked Between the Words (463k, E, friends to lovers) by @odamakilock. An epic tale of parenting and living their way into a love a long time coming.

A Little Domestic (5k, T, established). They fight. They’ve fought before, but this is cruel and it seems to come out of nowhere. But it’s never from nowhere: there is hurt there, there are wounds needing to be lanced, if they can bear it.

The Nightmares Are Neverending (1k, G, pre-slash, hurt/comfort, s1 canon divergence). Sherlock has ended John’s nightmares, but now he’s picked up some of his own.

And Here We Are (12k, T, pre-slash, s1/s2 interstices) by @jbaillier. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson size each other up. Sherlock is used to getting in and out with little effect on the people around him other than what he chooses, but John is getting under his skin, and it seems he’s getting under John’s.

Brokeback Series (44k, E, friends to lovers, Brokeback AU, happy ending) by @sincewhendoyoucallme-john. Love should be impossible under the circumstances–if the self-rejection didn’t do them in the fear of the others should. But Sherlock and John find joy anyway.

Observe, Control, Delete  (9k, M, friends to lovers, injury rehab). John knows what it means rebuild a body from the ground up. He expects the months of pain and frustration and patience ahead of them, but Sherlock has never done this before, and it’s knocking him flat.

The Missing Piece (35k, M, friends to lovers, reunion fixit). Mary doesn’t take the ring. Mary tells him he needs to talk to Sherlock first, and John has spent enough time facing the truth to know she’s right–whatever Sherlock may think.

Where You Hang Your Heart (13k, M, friends to lovers, post s4). John has a child to raise, and Sherlock has new work to do–the work of waiting, resting, learning courage. It takes a long time, but he has time: Rosie is growing up.

Old Haunts (14k, M, friends to lovers, s2/s4 canon divergence, casefic) by @discordantwords. He couldn’t tell John what he didn’t remember. But if Baskerville had involved more than just a dog, Sherlock might have remembered some things sooner. 

Offering (10k, T, love confessions, post s3) by @hubblegleeflower. John confesses he loves Sherlock, and Sherlock finds he doesn’t want to hear it, not like this–not as an end instead of a beginning, unless they could make it one.

carrying up his morning tea (34k, E, friends to lovers, post s3) by @watsonshoneybee. Without anything to push them back together, they just keep drifting apart. Sherlock thinks John wants it that way, until the day Mrs. Hudson dies.

Bel Canto (127k, T, friends to lovers, Phantom of the Opera AU). Sherlock Holmes is an aristocrat trapped by his brother’s expectations. John Watson is doctor-at-large to the opera house they patronize, and he’s slowly falling in love with the ghost who lives beneath.

The Adventure of the Consulting Corpse (10k, G, pre-slash, post s2) by @captain-liddy​. Sherlock may have been forbidden from speaking to John while he’s away, but that won’t stop him. And John is always up for antagonizing Mycroft a little more.

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea (39k, M, friends to lovers, post s4) by @discordantwords. The one thing he’s never had is time enough to grieve. It doesn’t feel like a kindness at first.

Welcome Home, John (5k, G, love confessions, post s3). John’s spent so long waiting for a crack in Sherlock’s armor, it takes a little while for him to recognize that it’s cracking all over.

Helpless (12k, M, friends to lovers) by @ivyblossom. They’ve always expected risks to life and limb, but all of them could be assessed and fought. Cancer can only be faced without defenses.

A Beginner’s Guide to Apiology. (10k, M, Sussex AU). John had lived with love and knew what he was missing. He’d lived with loneliness, too, and he could recognize it in a neighbor.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca (6k, T, friends to lovers, reunion fixit, post s2). Coming home isn’t enough: he feels farther from John than he had halfway across the world.

There you are, nonny! Hope these help. Thanks for the ask!

[olicrosse]

Fr. Johann Dzierzon

Catholic Priest & scientist who is considered to be the father of modern Apiology and Apiculture

• Came from a Polish family in Silesia.

• Trained in theology, he combined his theoretical and practical work in apiculture with his duties as a Roman Catholic priest.

• He was a pioneering Polish apiarist who discovered the phenomenon of parthenogenesis in bees.

• His discoveries and innovations made him world famous in scientific and bee-keeping circles, and has been described as the "father of modern apiculture."

• He studied the social life of honeybees and constructed several experimental beehives.

• In 1838, he devised the first practical movable-comb beehive, which allowed manipulation of individual combs without destroying the structure of the hive. And in 1835, he discovered that the drones are produced from unfertilized eggs and caused a revolution in bee cross-breeding. And in 1854, he discovered the mechanism of secretion of the royal jelly and its role in the development of queens.

[skullcandy11111198]

Leveragetober23 Day 9: past

A few of the past employments the team has hard, both during and outside of criminal undertakings, in no particular order

McDonald's cashier (2 weeks) Helicopter mechanic (6 months) Website designer (1999-present, contract) Museum docent (1 year 2 months, total over time) Professional merman (that one summer we don't talk about) High school football assistant coach (2 years, total) Human statue (1.5 days) TV Commercial extra (5 years, part time) Dog Surfing Instructor (4 months) Priest (4 years) Author (22 years, shh it's a secret) Macy's store clerk (18 minutes on the floor) Professor of apiology (4 months) Banksy's assistant (that 1 night, it was an accident) Pope (13 days) Journalist (10 months, part time, sometimes still with contract) Warden of the Swans (2 weeks) Perfumer (2 years, received degree) Hitter ( - ) Hacker ( - ) Grifter ( - ) Thief ( - ) Mastermind ( -death) Mechanical/Social Engineer ( - ) Lawyer ( - )

[pyxisastronautica]

L: Work has gone well enough. Is going well enough. One of my coworkers asked to sit next to me at lunch, I guess I can't help my expression much. It turns out she works in the apiology department, though, and said she could arrange for me to visit their lab. She always wanted to see ours as well, so. That's something to look forward to at least.

Strangely, for a moment, I almost felt like this could be my life. That the facade is real and the reality of my existence and my purpose here was imagined. I know it's not true, logically, and yet...

W: Whoa now. Good to like whatcha do, Beans, but you best not go forgettin' me. c]:(

L: Pff. You are a rather hard person to forget, Whiskey.

[jackstingy]

@anthrcpophagi should probably answer before the suspense eats j.d. alive.— sc. lyrics from.

the way j.d. sees his sustained being, his eyelids levered by the toothpicks of will and all other senses thoroughly plugged by a putrescent set of headphones, every day is judgment day. it’s the story of narcissus all over again, with his studies serving as the scorned nymph and his delicate work-school-afterlife balance being the pantheon that inspires his lethal infatuation with the stream-of-consciousness-or-concussions-he’s-not-picky research he needs to write, rewrite, and inevitably launch into the digital rubbish bin about an hour before submission. this optimistic prognosis has sent j.d. spiraling, trundling through each item on the pedagogical bucket list with nothing more than an umbrella and a wad of outstanding birthday cash meant to be spent on things more fun than planning the funeral of his theses. renaissance man that j.d. is, he can scarcely place one syllable after the other when asked by his phantom companion to name the college he’s purchasing a tote bag’s worth of serious literatureTM from, the clerks he may face. it does not matter. the umbrella closes with a click as he enters with a bang.

the dead of night is nigh, deadlines crawling closer with each tick of his googly-eyed watch. he has no time to peel the inkjet pleas to find the nth missing dog in the area or the posters advertising a slam poetry event to be slammed by social justice organisations in t-minus three days. surely the rain can’t sluice his genetic makeup off the back of his jacket. the wind is background noise, now. nobody has to know that he was ever here. or that he took off a strip with the address for the slam poetry event. train wrecks are fun to watch even when he is tied to the rails.

‘ apiology, the odyssey, epistemology, a brief history of competitive bagpiping? where’s competitive bagpiping? come now, jack, we haven’t got the time for you to get my hopes up. you want to burst my eardrums and bank account, fine, but do it after i get my books, please. ‘ his mutterings are punctuated by the flipping of pages, the frustrated thunderclaps of dust jackets against their overpriced bodies. his hands are too damp for this trial and error in the best of times, but he comforts himself with the theory that, should he move fast enough, evaporation will take place faster. taking him along with it, perhaps.

and then he hears the footsteps, bursting through the calming tunes of edvard grief’s mountain king and shostakovich's symphonies. he yelps, squawks, slams the book shut.

‘ i’m sorry, i’m sorry. should i stay or should i go? ‘ because chivalry is dead and he will be dead, too, if he turns around.

AND ALONG COMES JACK, KNOCKING DOWN HIS PORTRAIT ON THE HALL OF SHAME WITH A SKIP IN HIS STEP AND A SMILE ON HIS ROTTING FACE...

you’re hopeless, as you should be. it’s this ærgewinn that neither of us can win, jack daniel, not until you take that ‘customised’ bookmark out of the crack between your arse and the student suite version of google maps. i’d bet to teach you the history of competitive bagpiping myself. my expertise was unmatched. you know, until i met my match and strategically placed a few matches in his chambers. stop apologising. i’ve got my head stuck in ignition and yet you manage to set it aflame with your rambling. stand firm. firmer. hands at your sides. you’ve dropped the book on your foot. i hope that’s not security behind you.

[jellogram]

Marketing jobs be like

"We're looking for a self-starter with experience in the following areas:

Social Media

SEO

Coding

Graphic Design

Leadership Management

Grant Writing

Advanced Theoretical Physics

Javelin Throwing

Apiology

Microsoft Word

Sword Swallowing

Automobile Mechanics

Inbound Marketing

[fyrewalks]

Bob exhales. Bradley's comment stings. Of course, it does; his words are pointed and harsh. This time, though, Bob knows he deserves it. Less self flagellation and more recognition that he can be a right dick when he wants to be, when he isn't careful or caring enough with his words and demeanor.

His lips press together as he tries to figure out the right approach now. As much as he'd like to, he is, after all, a creature of comfort and familiar habits, Bob doesn't think just sweeping things aside will work. At least, this requires a little more acknowledgment than he is used to giving.

"Is that what you want to do," Bob asks instead. Bradley's suggestion sounds reasonable, mature even, but Bob can tell it leaves a sour taste in his mouth. At least, Bradley is an easy read in this, though it feels too much like an apology coming from Bradley and while Bob is struggling to navigate this, the after, he knows the only apiologies should be coming from him.

"The lamb has forty minutes left; it's just potatoes and asparagus," he lists out, sounding a little like he's in the backseat of an f-18 listing off turns and mission specs. "You can handle those. If you want."

the bottle is placed in his hand, fingers curling around it. it’s cold, smooth, and the opposite of what bradley wishes most was there instead. he doesn’t say anything other than thanks, though he doesn’t want the beer. he accepts the sentiment behind it, and even finds it light enough for the edge of one of his lips to tug up in a smile that lasts all of a second.

as he crosses back in to bob’s home, feet lighter, following slowly, he feels uncertain at how they go from where they are now to potentially enjoying a meal. he thinks for a moment maybe the meal isn’t something they can enjoy anymore— too tainted. but he got through meals with his mom after big shouting matches so maybe it’s not all that impossible. his heart tugs at the vulnerable desire to consult her for something like this, the way she did when he first started dating, but bradley can only swallow away that feeling.

he holds the bottle, twisting it in both hands, as they come to a pause. “you don’t say.” it’s a shit comment, entirely useless, but bradley can’t really help it yet even if it twists his insides as soon as it leaves his mouth. he reminds himself to breathe out and release the little bits of hurt and anger. “we don’t have to cook together. i don’t have to…” be in your way? help? all of it doesn’t seem to fit well. his face scrunches as if he’s tasted something bad. “i don’t have to cook, i can always do the dishes or whatever’s y’know… actually helpful.”

[sleepy-bebby]

[actualcoolbugfacts]

✨cool bug facts's✨

The Tetragonula carbonaria, or the sugarbag bee!

Goth bee!! 🐝🐝🖤🖤

The anatomy of these indefatigable insects!!!

They are a species of stingless bee. This does not mean that they don't have a stinger, rather, they have a functionless stinger. The adult workers and males are mostly black and have some brown tints in certain areas. Newly emerged bees are white on every part of their body except their abdomen.

The workers body length is around 3.9 mm to 4.3 mm, and their wing length (including tegula) is around 4.1 mm to 4.6 mm. The males are the same length, but have different antennae. They produce the largest honey and pollen pots out of the genus Tetragonula.

They store their honey in pot-like structures around the nest, that the queen lays eggs into, and then a worker quickly seals the pot that the queen fertilized. Unlike other stingless bee species, they store their honey in pots rather than combs.

If their queen suddenly dies, they can build emergency queen cells by fusing two worker-sized cells that contain eggs or young larvae. Some queens can only produce diploid males, who are infertile and physically weaker. Workers find these males to be a nuisance to the rest of the hive, and might kill a queen who produces diploid males. The center of their nest is made up of honeycombs in a spiral shape. Even the molecules of these honeycombs are spiral-shaped. Their honey has a sour taste to it.

Diet.

They pollinate the orchid species Dendrobium lichenastrum, D. toressae, and D. speciosum.

They collect their pollen from the Cycas media, which is a cycad.

Behavior.

Sugarbag bees do not like flying, and will not fly further than they find necessary. The younger bees perform their work in the nests, and as they get older they will start working outside of nests. They consistently have four to five worker bees surrounding the nest, seemingly acting as guards. They will only fly in temperatures higher than 18 °C, and temperatures above 42 °C can kill them. Their colonies are active all year round, the daily activity period is longer in the southern hemisphere's warmer months. The intensity of the daily flights is most intense in September and least intense in May. They mummify small hive beetles (Aethina tumida) that enter their nest by coating them in wax, resin, and mud or soil from the nest. While the workers do have ovaries, they are inactive. This is unusual, as stingless bee workers can produce unfertilized eggs that can grow into haploid males. This may be because the workers do not want to be distracted from their work, so they leave the egg laying to the queen. Another possibility is that the queen does not permit them to lay eggs due to their inferiority, though little antagonism occurs between the queen and workers, making this theory unlikely. When a worker does produce an egg, it often causes a conflict between the worker and the queen, and the queen will start the patrol the area where new brood cells are being produced, and using a hands-on policy to prevent this from happening again. Unlike other stingless bee species, the queen does not harm the worker who laid the egg. When threatened, all nest mates will form a bee-cloud and wrestle intruders, usually causing both the bees and intruders to die. The sugarbag bees may be the only party dying, however, if their intruder is not a bee or a significantly larger creature than the bees, such as a human. Their main predator is the pink flower spider, or the Diaea evanida, which is a spider crab. This crabs reside on flowers that bees tend to pollinate and can change their colors to suit the preferences for different bee species, but the sugarbag bees do not attract to any of these colors. Sugarbag bees tend to choose one specific kind of flower to pollinate, usually only for specific trips, but sometimes an individual bee might pollinate only one type of flower. The males may fly several kilometers away from the nest in order to mate, and may never return to their original colony.

Habitat.

They're exclusively located in Australia, from Queensland to southern New South Wales.

The nests are found in tree hollows and other cavities throughout forests, woodlands, and heaths. T. carbonaria nests are also found in Telstra pits in rural and urban areas, and will inhabit water meters when their usual habitats are not available. They prefer larger trees and wider tree hollows or cavities in order to produce a sufficient amount of insulation.