exchanging headcanons and AUs with friends like

Alternatively:

ok but what about:

but sometimes also

@brighteyedbadwolf

gothic horror rlly is just. aw fuck look at what youve done. the house has inherited your inter-generational trauma and in response has transformed itself into a metaphorical device to track the decay of the family. we're never gonna pay off that mortgage now

✋ chill lmao

Inspired by doof

You made this while pointedly avoiding your WIPs, didnt you

L'amant et l'Amour

For anyone interested, the original piece that OP so beautifully reworked is a miniature from Roman de la Rose depicting Amour kissing the Lover. Southern Netherlands (Bruges), c. 1490-1500.

She

Upcycling sweaters

Sometimes you're stuck with a sweater you just don't wear any more. Maybe it shrunk or became felted in the wash, or maybe you outgrew it. When this happens, there's a variety of ways you could upcycle your sweater into something new.

Knitting:

Do you like knitting? One way to recycle your sweater is to unravel it into a skein of yarn. This way, you can reknit your sweater into a garment you actually wear. This process takes a lot of patience, but if you particularly like the material your sweater's made from, it's well worth it.

Refashioning:

If your sweater has become too small, you could try to upsize it by adding in extra pieces of fabric. You could knit your own, use scrap fabric, or sacrifice a second sweater to cut out panels or gores from.

(Image source) [ID: a gray knit cabled sweater with gores made of floral pink fabric sewn to the bottom, starting at the waist.]

Sweaters that are too big are pretty easy to downsize, too. If your sweater's made of a natural fibre, you could try shrinking it in the wash. Otherwise you'll have to tailor it. Add in darts with the ladder stitch, or resize the sides by using a fitted sweater as a template.

Your sweater doesn't have to stay a sweater! If the shoulders bother you, then remove the sleeves and turn it into a sweater vest. Chest too tight? Cut open the front and turn it into a cardigan. Top not fitting right? Cut off the bottom and make yourself a skirt or a pencil skirt.

(Image source) [ID: a before and after picture of a gray sweater being turned into a cardigan.]

Reusing:

There are many ways to upcycle a sweater. In the end, your sweater is just fabric/yarn in a sweater-shape. You can reuse it however you want. Here are some ideas to get you started:

(Image source) [ID: three sweater diagrams showing how to turn a sweater into an ear warmer, fingerless gloves, infinity scarf, arm warmer, slouch hat, cowl scarf, traditional scarf mittens, and a beanie hat. Text: "© Jenuinemom.com".]

Conclusion:

There's no need to throw away a sweater if you don't wear it any more or if it doesn't fit you any longer. You can always resize, alter, or upcycle it into something new.

If you don't feel in a crafty mood, please consider giving your sweater to a friend or family member, freecycling your sweater, or donating your sweater to a charity rather than throwing it away.

you can also use the fabric to make patches to mend other things! I'm hanging onto a particularly lovely piece of cornflower blue fabric from a sweater that used to be my mom's and I can't wait to find the right project for it:)

This is my primary ds9 takeaway

we think of this comic so often in my household that we knew what we had to do for the next birthday that was coming up

I showed this post to my girlfriend and expressed my great delight, who then conspired with @senpaichan who was visiting me from out of state to do a midnight cake ingredient drop-off while I was sleeping

And then when it was cut open…

It’s a (trans) gender reveal cake

THE MASS CREATION OF BASHIR CAKES IS TAKING ME OUT. THIS IS MY LEGACY

@ichijoukenichiro

they would NOT fucking have communication skills that good

BY 老姐姐

ppl trying to make some of these ships all cute n domestic dont seem to understand these characters are insane. they would have sex by standing on opposite sides of the room fully clothed playing mind games

📢Cuteness alert!📢

We’re feeling all aflutter with excitement for a brand-new bundle of fluff on exhibit! This adorable puffin chick (puffling) hatched on July 19 and currently weighs just over 1 pound. 

Whalecome to this big, bayutiful world, little fluff nugget! 🎊🐥

some grownup wlw romance I recommend, all happy endings

Wrong Number, Right Woman by Jae - “wrong number text” meets “I thought I was straight”. SUPER cute and “soft.”

Worthy of Love by Quinn Ivins - political thriller plus “meetcute” as internationally disgraced lawyer meets adorable retail manager at her first post-prison job. Gritty in the beginning but it has a fabulous payoff.

The Red Files by Lee Winter - rival journalists team up to take down a scandal, enemies to lovers

Poppy Jenkins by Clare Ashton - they were friends as kids and had a falling out, now they’re enemies to lovers. Modern Welsh village setting but with Anne or P&P vibes.

Daughter of Mystery by Heather Rose Jones - early 1800′s costume drama plus a hint of magic and political intrigue. if watching Jane Austen movies makes you want a gay one, this will scratch that itch. Mysterious parentage + sword lesbian protecting book lesbian + country in danger.

Proper English by KJ Charles - Edwardian country-house murder mystery where the amateur sleuths are two women falling in love

I want to write so bad. I open word document. word document unleashes a psychic attack and I forget how the english language works

Pete Buttigieg is just a faggot.

It's very important to me that younger queers understand this: to the people who you're trying to be more respectable for when you say things like neopronouns set the trans movement back or you're why the cishets don't accept us or including [aces/bi people with the 'wrong kind' of partners/non-binary people/kinksters/non-passing trans ppl/furries/polyam people] just hurts us, can't you wait until we get all our rights before we talk about some of yours? -- to those people? Pete Buttigieg is just a fag.

On Sunday at Pride Northwest, some kids -- late teens, early 20s -- asked what our button I survived Reagan for this? meant. All of the queer adults at the tables making up our ad hoc counter looked at each other and sighed a little. Emet and another adult started to explain the way that the Reagan Administration handled -- or didn't handle -- the beginning of the AIDS crisis. How many people died. How much we were ignored. The Ashes Action. The Time Magazine article which explicitly blamed bisexual men for passing the pandemic to the cishet community, playing on all the worst stereotypical bullshit. The way that even when the CDC started paying attention, they were so focused on gay men that they ignored AIDS in the lesbian community, leading to the "women don't get AIDS, they just die from it" poster. And so on.

I finished counting out change and passed the last Bear Pride raised fist pin over to a bear a little older than me, then turned my head and interjected, "they didn't care until it started infecting more than just the fags." I turned my head back and handed him his change. He laughed bitterly and said, "remember when they called it 'gay cancer?'"

That what I need you to understand. The people for whom you are folding yourself into smaller and smaller boxes will never see you as anything but a freak. A queer. A dyke. A tranny. A fag.

Never.

These are people who will stand by and let you wither away and die alone, gasping for breath in a cinderblock room, and not even claim your ashes, and they will say you deserve it, because of your lifestyle. If they speak of you at all it will be by the wrong name, with the pictures you hate the most. They will curse at your lover, throw him out of the home you shared, and steal the gift you gave last Christmas to throw it in the trash just so he can't have it and they'll say Jesus loves you! while they do it. They'll feel good and righteous and blessed and holy and pure for doing it.

And for them, you spit in the eye of your sister. For them, you disavow your sibling. For their sake, you trim away bits of your heart and lace yourself up tight. Never too loud. Never too queer. Never inconvenient or embarrassing, never asking for too much.

Pete Buttigieg is what happens when your Boomer dad turns out gay. Middle America. Parents still married. Suburban-sprouted. Valedictorian. Harvard-educated. Rhodes Scholarship. Military service. More power to him: I hope he and Chasten are very happy together. Genuinely, I do.

You couldn't create a more respectable gay if you grew one in a lab run by concerned voter focus groups.

But Pete Buttigieg? Is just a fag.

That's the part you don't seem to get: when they abandoned us, they abandoned all of us. Rock Hudson was a beloved movie star and even personally friendly with that horrid pair of ambitious jackals. Nancy Reagan refused to help him get into the only place in the world that could treat him at the time, and he died.

It was 1985, 4 years after the CDC first released papers on what would eventually become known as HIV/AIDS and 7 years after the first known death from an infection from HIV-2. Reagan hadn't even said the word AIDS by the time Hudson died.

Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, and so am I. Unless I'm a dyke, which seems to depend on who's yelling what from which window and what day it is.

Yes, there will be people who genuinely love and accept you. Those people are worth all the frustration of the rest, thankfully, and they're the ones who love you in a pup mask or a leather harness and a neon jock like the ones sold by the men up the row from us last weekend. They're the ones who laugh out loud when you tell them you hid the word "dyke" in your company name, the ones who love you in all your messiness and uncertainty and the way you don't fit into neat boxes all scrubbed up and clean.

Most cishets, though... well, they don't actively mean you specifically any harm, at least not when they have to look at you. Not when you're right there in front of them. Maybe they'll be okay with you, personally, especially if you're the kind of gay who makes a good rhetorical device, and as long as you remain a good rhetorical device.

They need people to know that they don't have a problem with the gays, after all, and there you are, being all convenient. You make a nice token, and as long as you do, well. You're useful.

But they call you by your deadname when you're not around, and they put the wrong pronouns in your medical record even though they met you years after you came out, and they won't put themselves out to save you. Not one little bit.

I didn't want to be here again. The year I graduated from high school was the worst year of the AIDS crisis. The world into which I became an adult was a world in which an advisor and friend to Reagan, William F. Buckley, openly advocated for forcibly tattooing the HIV status of HIV+ gay men on their buttocks (and IV drug users on their forearms), and in which my father not only told me that when I was 14 or so, but when was told me that he'd advocated for that tattoo being "over their assholes."

(Buckley wrote that in '86, but he doubled down on it in 2005.

Fucker.)

But yeah. I didn't want to be here again. I wanted my daughter to inherit a better world. I wanted Obergefell and Lawrence v. Texas and Hope & Change to really mean something. I work for it, today and all days. I haven't given up.

I need you to know that, too. This isn't a white flag. I'm not surrendering. This isn't over. To misquote Henry Rollins, this is what Marsha and Sylvia and Stormé and Leslie and Brenda and Auntie Sugar trained us for. This is punk rock time.

But I need you to understand that if Pete Buttigieg is just a fag, if that human embodiment of a Wonder Bread, mayo and Oscar Meyer bologna sandwich is not respectable enough for them -- and he's not -- then the rest of us have absolutely no hope of measuring up. Not even if we trim away every colorful, beautiful piece of our community, not even if the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence vanish into the ether, not even if we sacrifice the five elements of vogue on the altar of white supremacist cishet middle-class conformity: we can't trim ourselves down to something they'll accept.

The only other option is radical acceptance of our queer selves. The only other option is solidarity. The only other option is for fats and femme queens and drags and kinksters and queers and zine writers and sex workers and furries and addicts and kids and the ones who can look us in the eye and see all of us to say we're here, we're queer, get used to it just the way we did 30 years ago. It's revolutionary, complete and total acceptance of our entire community, not just the ones the cishets can pretend to be comfortable with as long as we don't challenge them too much, or it's conceding the shoreline inch by inch to the rising waters of fascism until we've got nowhere left to stand and some of us start drowning.

That's it. Either it's all of us or it's none of us, because if we leave the answer up to the Reagans of the world and all the people who enabled him in the name of lower taxes and Democrats who wring their hands, weeping oh I don't agree with it but we'll lose the election if we fight it right now, the answer is none of us.

The brunch gays can come, too, I guess.

Oh holy shit they found Silphium alive and growing in the wild.

Like now that I am awake I need to reiterate how huge this is. It was presumed harvested to extinction by the Romans. It was a favorite flavoring and according to historians one of the best contraceptives ever known. True or not it would be fantastic to study that but it being extinct made that impossible.

This is such a huge deal! I hope they get it figured how to grow it.

Since people are getting weird about family abolition again, reminder that it's literally in The Communist Manifesto, a political text published nearly 200 years ago

You're getting your ass beat by a German neckbeard who died in 1883

he's the star