We're all together in the same room. This room.

Half of them are feds, but are off the clock.

Stiles who is super unsubtle about being jealous. He doesn't realise how obvious he's being but if you think this guy will stand in the corner and watch his man be ogled at and flirted with. You're WRONG. He's there in a second. Clinging onto Derek like a cat, touching him and being overly mean and sarcastic to the person in question and giving them the nastiest stink eye EVER. Trying to get Derek's attention onto him by any means possible and preening when he does it. (And unbeknownst to him, Derek thinks it's the most adorable thing ever and it makes his wolf super proud to see his mate being publicly possessive over him)

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reblogs were off

ooooo you wanna take a shower so bad

Garden Variety Dykes: Lesbian Traditions in Gardening, 1994

I thought she had her arm around the shoulders of her wife, who was dressed as a plant monster for some reason

The great challenge of our work as scholars—at least, those who are interested in historical reconstruction or the histories of any craft tradition—is that almost none of what we want to know is written down—because it didn’t have to be and it didn’t need to be articulated. So to be in a situation where expert weavers had to talk to me like I was a child was one of the best things that happened to me in the course of my research for this book.

The interviewer is also a weaver!

And this took me in new directions in my own research. You might remember a discussion of sewing labor in the final chapter of Plantation Goods and the implication of a cloth’s width for a woman’s work routine. If you know how to cut the pieces for a shirt from a 32-inch-wide piece of fabric, it is going to mess everything up when you’re given a bolt of 28-inch-wide cloth. I had seen letters from slaveholders in the 1830s and 1840s complaining about the narrowness of the cloth and how enslaved women didn’t “understand” these fabrics. This wasn’t transparent to me as a historian. Only with students talking about the expertise involved in cutting cloth into the components of a garment did I realize what a difference it made when, say, a New England weaver was haphazard and turned out fabric four inches narrower than the usual variety. That error would reverberate in the lives of people 1,000 miles away who might face extreme forms of violence because they couldn’t meet their daily production quotas. Or they might experience other kinds of privation—a lack of rags for postpartum women, for example—because a wider fabric left scraps while a narrower one did not.