#will this be my only post

[swedenis-h]

Wife lovers till they die

[twinliches]

my family is fucking addicted to macgyvering and it's becoming a problem. every time something in this house breaks, instead of doing the sensible thing of replacing it or calling someone qualified to fix it, we all group around the offending object with a manic look in our eyes and everyone gets a try at fixing it while being cheered on or ridiculed by the rest.

it's a beautiful bonding activity, but the "creative" fixes have turned our house into a quasihaunted escape room like contraption where everything works, but only in the wonkiest of ways. you need a huge block of iron to turn on the stove. the oven only works if a specific clock is plugged in. the bread machine has a huge wood block just stapled to it that has become foundational to its function. sometimes when you use the toaster the doorbell rings. and that's just the kitchen.

it's all fun and games until you have guests over and you have to lay out the rules of the house like it's a fucking board game. welcome to the beautiful guest room. don't pull out the couch yourself you need a screwdriver for that, and that metal rod makes the lamp work so don't move it. it also made me a terrifying roommate in college, because it makes me think i can fix anything with enough hubris and a drill. you want to call the landlord about a leaky faucet? as if. one time my dad made me install a new power socket because we ran our of extension cords

[blackbearmagic]

Shoutout to the two coworkers today who casually announced that they were voting for Trump, then asked me who I was voting for. I told them "I did early voting, and I voted for the candidate who isn't going to make it harder for me to exist as a trans person" and both of these women had to awkwardly try and assure me that it wasn't personal, and it's not like they hated Harris or anything, they actually do like some things about her, and they definitely don't hate me, of course not, it's just that, you know, well, it's like, well, you know, it's just, like, and no matter how many times they tried to pass the shovel off to me, I just let them hold onto it

[punkitt-is-here]

dungeon yuri

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[thatbuddie]

people telling you they reread your fic is the biggest compliment you could ever receive. there are thousands of stories out there begging to be found, to be explored, but your story meant so much to someone that they came back to it eagerly, they went over every word again. to love is to return and loving a fic is rereading it. thank you to all readers and rereaders <3333

[mushroom-punk]

YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE 'WHAT' ZONE

happy episode 11!

[lesbianralzarek]

"life doesnt get better, you just get stronger" does NOT include ages 11-17. life does in fact just get better from there. those years are dogshit. like, you do get stronger but its mostly just a factor of not being 11-17 anymore. positive thinking helps but it doesnt fix whatevers going on at 15, you have to brute force through that one raw

[despazito]

Adult website and period tracker

[paintedcrows]

When asked why they still haven't kicked the bucket after decades: Ford insists he beat Death at chess. Stanley insists he kicked Death's ass in a Denny's parking lot

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[uhhh-ghouls007]

Knee deep in the passenger seat. Or whatever happened in this scene

[scramratz]

Link!

[junaip3r]

Good Omens + Parallels

[dapper-lil-arts]

What if Celestia had Whatsapp 🤣🤣🤣

[pyaasa]

Cardi B saying “I will only vote for Kamala if she commits to a ceasefire in Gaza” shows that she has more political understanding than like 99% of you on here

“I meannn I DO support Palestinians but 👉🏽👈🏽 I’m going to vote for and uncritically support Kamala anyway and put zero pressure on her to stop the genocide ✌🏽”

Not only are you guys unbelievably callous, but you’re also just not smart. At the very least, withhold your support for Kamala UNTIL she commits to a ceasefire. Make your intentions to her clear that you will vote for her IF she withdraws support from Israel. By uncritically supporting her, by loudly voicing the fact across every social media platform that you’re going to vote for her, and even straight up saying with your whole chest that you’re putting your interests first before the Palestinians (seriously you guys have no shame. Like it is actually shocking to me how unbelievably cruel some of you are), and most especially by DONATING to her lmfaoo….you are letting her know, you are literally EXPLICITLY telling her, that the Palestinians are fair game. You are telling her she can kill as many Palestinians as she wants, drop as many bombs on the Middle East as she wants, and it’s ok because you will still vote for her anyway.

For the love of God, if you are in the USA, PLEASE try to understand the power of your vote. Your vote decides if someone in another part of the world dies. Please at least try to feel the gravity of that. Please at least TRY to put pressure on your politicians. This uncritical and loud support is the worst thing you can do. You are signing a death sentence for the people of Gaza with your actions.