[Podfic] Snug and Cozy | fic by @triscribe

Star Wars Rebels | Rated: G | Length: 7 mns

Art by Chloe’s arts

;)

@sroloc--elbisivni @triscribe

Yeah I said something similar yesterday but we can NOT let what happened to Renee Good cloud what happened to everyone else at the hands of these SS Demons!!!

Because we can’t disregard one person if we’re for human rights!

The above screenshot reads:

The second screenshot above reads:

And to all of our lovely WWC Followers, particularly those in the United States:

Take care. Take care of each other, your community, yourselves.

Travel in groups and make sure your loved ones know where you are. And absolutely know your rights.

And even in troubled times, try to find a spark of hope, creativity and comfort and hold onto it. For even joy is resistance.

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For those who can support:

I've included the verified GoFundMe for Keith Porter's daughters.

~Mod Colette & WWC Team

Y'all have you seen this????

Appreciate the fashion and please don't look in the notes unless it's to find people who you want to block.

like/reblog if u are:

no one will know which one u chose! :D

#The person I reblogged this from is firmly agender #so that knocks out the first two options #my bet is on 2nd from last when describing Triscribe #having seen them liveblog a trip to the sea #more importantly #having seen the impressive rate of excellent fic writing!

*WHEEZE*

Phenomenal, no notes x'D

So my family has a Gay Pirate Plate.

Stay with me.

We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.

I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.

It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.

(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)

Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.

My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.

When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.

We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.

Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.

The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.

I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.

Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”

Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.

But he’s trying to get me and my sister out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.

The rules of Gay Pirate Plate are simple by the way.

WOE

PLATE BE UPON YE

STATUS UPDATE

I texted this image to my family at around 2am their time last night and woke up to appropriately indignant messages about theft, betrayal, etc.

nothing could have prepared me for how gay the gay pirate plate was

like/reblog if u are:

no one will know which one u chose! :D

Just 3 lil WIPs from a bigger WIP spreadsheet that will probably never be completed and that I wanted to share 'cause no part of it would ever see the light of day if I didn't lol

Age swap ASL can have my soul, guys 🙏

Crying bc the events of Pacific's Rim are literally happening right now. January 8 was the day Mako and Raleigh fought those kaijus in the Hong Kong double event. January 12 is the triple event where they close the breach. In two days we cancel the apocalypse.

Today

God help me I’ve been roped into some shenanigans once again

i just can't believe that oda fucking create sanji, a stereotypical ladies man who simps to an embarrassing degree for women while having his hackles comically raised around everyone he perceives as a man - and most notably butting heads with the more obvious ~manly man~ of the crew. haha, classic anime running gag, the kind that gets obnoxious at times but still makes you laugh.

AND THEN, like a billion chapters later, motherfucker steeples his fingers and goes "soooooooo... what makes a person Like That?"

and the answer is that he grew up in fucking Toxic Masculinity, The Kingdom. the answer is that he was always Different, in a way other guys instinctively perceived as weak, and that made him the target of visceral scorn and violence. the answer is that he was sensitive, sweet, caring, nurturing - feminine-coded traits which are only valued by patriarchy insofar that they're performed by women in service of men. the answer is that in a kingdom comprised almost entirely by violent men, the only ones who were ever kind to him, the only safety he ever had, were a girl and a woman.

so cooking is for women and servants, it makes you less of a man. only women will ever really value you for your passions and dreams. women are also actively hurt by the way the world works, they are unsafe unless they comply with men's violence, and you have to protect them.

(men will always know what you are, and they will hurt you if you let them.)

and even after he leaves... at baratie he is cherished and respected, but even that is an extremely masculine environment. we don't talk about our feelings, we don't let our guard down, the only love is tough love. when he tries to express his artistry and express himself through his cooking, rather than just filling orders and making money, he gets mocked.

so here is a man who will not raise a hand to a woman, because he rejects the masculinity he was raised with and refuses to become yet another man subjecting women to violence. he is desperate for women's attention and affection because it's SAFE, it's the only kind he can trust. other men are potential threats and must be treated as such. he must at all times be snarky, tough, Not Feminine, because to be perceived otherwise is to be powerless, to be hurt.

like y'all. the queer coding of it all? the overtly feminist themes? the active rejection of toxic masculinity and the way it's shown to be directly tied to imperialism? what the fuck.

alright gotta get the rest of this off my chest, so here are the cliff notes of the essay i was yelling at my wife from the bathroom at 5:30 this morning

1. obviously this is where he meets zoro’s trauma from patriarchy and cisnormativity coming the other way.

zoro has also seen that this shit kills. like sure they said it was an accident, but the bystanders at the funeral literally point out how fucking WEIRD it was that kuina would be be carrying those swords down the stairs for no reason. so either it was an attempt to pull a sabo and get the fuck out with those swords, or - more likely, because swords don’t fucking unsheathe themselves that easily and a skilled fighter would know better than to carry an unsheathed blade down the stairs, or indeed to unsheathe it at all unless in combat - the harm was self-inflicted. was it suicide, or a horribly sad reaction to the implied dysphoria in the previous scene with zoro? who knows, but his friend died regardless.

so he sees sanji acting all weird around women and he’s instantly like wtf is wrong with you, why can’t you just treat women as people, don’t you know the harm you are doing? he sees someone who makes a big show of not raising a hand to women, and treating them as perfect paragons who can do no wrong, and what he hears is kuina’s words about being inherently weaker, the resentment at the perceived pity, that helplessness in the face of a life inevitably diminishing.

meanwhile sanji is faced with the obvious disdain from a tough guy who fights with swords and he’s instantly defensive. because yeah, this is how the world works. men like zoro look down on him because just like his brothers, they think he’s not a Real Man. if he backs down, he'll be a target, he'll be weak again, he'll be right back where he started again and he does not want to.

obviously they get to know and respect each other and learn that it's not that simple, but not until the dynamic is firmly established, and they're both too proud to actually acknowledge that they were wrong abt each other.

2. and then luffy. oh god luffy. another guy, so he's wary, but then this unhinged little ray of sunshine instantly zeroes in on his art, his passion, the thing other men either disdain or see as mostly utilitarian... and he unreservedly tells him how good it is. there is no condescension, no pretense, no grudging acknowledgement that he's not too bad for a useless brat, because god forbid men just compliment each other. just wow, you're so fucking cool, your skill has incredible worth, your dream is precious and important, I see your kindness and your caring, and I want you.

for the first time, another man takes the part of sanji that he has tried so desperately to protect at all costs, the part that matters most to him despite being devalued and underplayed at every turn, and he says that this? this is exactly what I've been looking for.

poor man didn't stand a chance.

3. sanji's fucking sister. a perfect portrait of a woman who plays along with patriarchy in the desperate hope of being spared by it. she projects a persona that lands right between a tradwife and Not Like The Other Girls. she laughs along with the cruelty, she embodies everything they want her to be, she gives up her agency in return for safety. she shows kindness through the mitigation of male violence, not by openly rebelling against it. she hates it and it hurts her, but since she feels powerless to stop it, she might as well benefit from it.

4. related to this, viola. no fucking wonder sanji unflinchingly believes that she is in fact a victim, that she does need help, even though she immediately went “PSYCHE, i was playing you, get wrecked”. because he’s met his fucking sister and he can recognize the coping mechanisms.

5. gender, man. it’s complicated. because all this is obviously related to his reactions to people who challenge the gender binary. and yeah there are some Choices made in the writing there that are not always fantastic, bc oda is confused but he’s got the spirit? but also… haha we literally see Iva weaponize dysphoria in a fight, we see the baseline for how a cis dude reacts when suddenly forced into a woman’s body. sanji’s reaction is… not that. like even before they know wtf is going on or if there is EVER going to be a way to reverse it? he doesn’t show the SLIGHTEST discomfort, not even a little bit. he’s unequivocally delighted, it’s the best day of his fucking life. make of that what you will.

6. bro no seriously, the queer coding. like they hide him away and pretend he’s dead? and then they let him leave provided he never shames them with his existence? and the found family? and the LITERAL REJECTION OF A HETEROSEXUAL MARRIAGE IN FAVOR OF THIS FOUND FAMILY? the sheer ROMANCE of sanji being told that he has to come back; that the feeling, kind, caring person he is at heart is integral not just to his own dreams, but to luffy’ was well? What The Fuck.

i am not okay. i’m never going to be okay again. this shit is in my brain and in my emotions and i can’t deal.

‘Yelling at my wife from the bathroom at 5:30 this morning,’ they say, as if I wasn’t yelling right back just as incoherently about Zoro and conflicting ideals of masculinity for a Manly character going from a Meiji- to Taisho-era Japan-coded upbringing to living as an adult in areas where gender is viewed through a more Western lens and the way that Sanji’s ‘wouldn’t fight a woman’ thing contrasts with his implied ‘wouldn’t condescend to a woman by refusing to fight her seriously’ thing

the wayyyyy zoro has never felt like he has to prove that he's a man to anyone or like kindness and morality conflicts with in any way and how being around someone like that is slowly starting to heal that wound in sanjiiiii fucking end me

Hate it when TikTok farm cosplayers and cottagecore types say stuff like "I'm not going to use modern equipment because my grandmothers could make do without it." Ma'am, your great grandma had eleven children. She would have killed for a slow cooker and a stick blender.

I’ve noticed a sort of implicit belief that people used to do things the hard way in the past because they were tougher or something. In reality, labor-saving devices have historically been adopted by the populace as soon as they were economically feasible. No one stood in front of a smoky fire or a boiling pot of lye soap for hours because they were virtuous, they did it because it was the only way to survive.

Taking these screenshots from Facebook because they make you log in and won't let you copy and paste:

The most beautiful breakfast ...

I recently discovered laundry stripping and y’all, no matter how much of a crock of shit you think fast fashion is, you’re underestimating.

[image ID: a screenshot of the notes on this post, featuring several people indicating they want to know more. End ID.]

OKAY SO. You know how we talk about how one way fast fashion has made itself “necessary” is that the clothing looks like shit and feels horrible after just a few washes?

Let. Me. Tell. You. Something.

Laundry stripping is a process where you load your laundry into a tub or bin (I’ve been using my bathtub) with warm water, half a cup of borax, half a cup of washing soda, and half a cup of laundry soap (not detergent, SOAP, there’s a chemical difference). Leave it there for at least eight hours. I’ve been going for 12-24.

What you will come back to is a tub full of nearly-opaque black-gray-brown water that absolutely REEKS. This is normal. You are looking at (and smelling) hard water buildup, body sweat and oils that were embedded in the fabric, dead skin, and just regular grime.

Wring out your clothes. Throw them in the washer. (I like to do a spin-only cycle before going any further, because I have one of those washers that determines by weight how much water any given load needs.) Wash as usual.

You will notice I didn’t suggest any further pretreatment, and that’s because 1) you don’t want to layer too many chemicals on top of each other but also 2) you may not even need it.

When your clothes come out, check each one as it goes into the dryer, and if anything else s still stained, set it aside to run again with a regular pretreatment. One of the sweaters I did this with apparently did need a second treatment…to deal with what appears to have possibly been a hot chocolate stain that was previously invisible due to “well, it’s old” dinginess. I was planning to throw this sweater out. It looks almost new now. I need to wash it one more time for the probably-a-hot-chocolate stain, and then it needs to have the hem weighted to block it and bring it back to evenness, but dude. I wear my clothes to rags and I thought this thing was unfixable. “I need to reshape it” is nothing.

Remove clothes from dryer when done. Fucking MARVEL at the colors and how good the fabric feels. Give them a smell. Get righteously and royally angry that you can rejuvenate this stuff so easily, with a process that does take awhile but is 90% hands-off, but we’ve been trained to believe it’s all got to be binned once a year because discoloration and gross fabric is “normal wear and tear” and can’t be fixed.

It’s utterly unreal! I just pulled a seven-year-old work undershirt out of the dryer and this thing looks NEW!! It FEELS almost new!!! One of the shirts I hung up from the last load is older than some of the people on this site and it went from “I keep this to wear on laundry day, for sentimental reasons” to “I could actually wear this out of the house, it looks old but respectable”! The pajama bottoms I’m wearing were from Goodwill and they have BRIGHT YELLOW in them! I thought it was goldenrod!!

I do not know how often you’re supposed to do this (doing it every time can strip the dye out of your clothes, not to mention it’s way too much work to do every time), but once or twice per season seems respectable. I don’t wear white, so I can’t test the “it will make whites look almost-new as well” claim, but I’ve seen a lot of people on the cleaning subreddit attest that it works.

Just remember: WASHING soda. Not baking soda. I tried baking soda and a little bit happened, but not a lot.

Go forth. Rejuvenate your clothing. Strip your laundry.

Damn, that's useful!

I have also discovered that washing fabrics with washing soda will remove the smell of male cat urine better than products that are for that specifically.

Can confirm it also does this for female cat urine.