#Extremely breathable

[urbancreative]

Our half aprons  in 100% hemp fabric are just ideal for Indian summers! Can be worn effortlessly for long hours, whether you are cooking, gardening or doing household chores.

The aprons come with one large pocket and ties long enough that you can tie it at the back or front as per your comfort.

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

Heat Intolerance

This disability pride month I'd like to talk about heat intolerance. Because honestly although it's not the first health issue that presented symptoms in my life. It was the first time I was like "I don't think my body works right".

And honestly given disability pride month is during one of the hottest months in the year. It seems fitting. Especially because there's a lot of disabilities and medications that cause it.

What is heat intolerance?

Simply speaking it's the inability for the body to regulate it's temperatures especially in hot settings to cool itself down.

Why is awareness important?

Because gaslighting people or worse not providing them a place to cool down just because you "feel fine" is extremely fucking dangerous.

What are the medicines that can cause heat intolerance?

Antihistamines (Allergy medications) . Decongestants (Sudafed or any medication that has the D at the end of it). Stimulants (ADHD medications. Steroids. Caffeine.) Beta-blockers (blood pressure medications). Overactive bladder treatment. Psychiatric medications (including but not limited to medications for depression and anxiety). Pain relievers. Antibiotics.

What medical conditions can cause heat intolerance?

EDS (Elhers-Danlos syndrome). Autism. ADHD. Migraines. Brain/spinal-cord injury. Sensory processing disorder. Chronic fatigue syndrome. Endocrin problems. POTS. Menopause. Hypothyroidism. Diabetes. Heart Disease. Multiple sclerosis. Mental health disorders.

What should I do if I suspect I have heat intolerance?

Reduce time outside during hot months. Keep your electrolytes up. Drink plenty of water. Stay out of the sun whenever possible if outside. Be aware of the symptoms of heat exhaustion and heat stroke.

Clothes that are best worn for heat intolerance. Loose lightweight breathable fabrics. Natural fibers. Long sleeves that protect from sunburn as sunburns will increase your risk. Light clothes that reflect light. Wide brimmed hats that shade the face and neck.

Cool. So what are those symptoms I'm supposed you be looking for?

Headaches. Excessive fatigue. Mood changes. Muscle cramping or weakness. Nausea/ vomiting. Rapid heartbeat. Excessive sweating or not sweating at all.

When should I do to the doctor?

If you suspect you have heat intolerance you can go to your PCP to discuss what medications you may be on and what you can do about it. Otherwise, please go to the emergency room if you have symptoms of heat stroke.

This is good information and all but why are you making this post?

To raise awareness. Not just for the people that have it but weren't aware of what it was called. But for all of the idiots that tried to gaslight me when I was in school because I was like "I don't think this is normal. Every time we do our mile run outside I vomit all over the place but other kids aren't doing that."

Also because people always blame me for over heating if I wear long sleeves or pants. I always like to take notes from what people in the middle east wear because they literally live in the excessive heat and spend long hours in the excessive heat. Often in clothing that covers most of their body. They've gotta know what they're doing, right?

I have some type of xenophobic comment about why people from the middle east cover up

Shut the fuck up 😊

-fae

[bookmarking555]

Best  Cotton Curtains In Dubai

Cotton curtains are light and breathable, making them extremely popular among homeowners the world over. They come in a range of fabrics that are easy to maintain and a simple way to do something pretty with your room decor.

[mockerycrow]

SICK MOMENTS; Price Edition (GN!Reader)

price masterlist

authors note; i’m finally completing the sick moments series after being gone!!!! after this, I only have soap to do. i hope you enjoy, pls leave a comment if you can because i’m not sure the quality of this is acceptable 😵‍💫

[WARNINGS; Vomiting, descriptions of sickness, medical emergency. Secret relationship, Price is worried, fluff.]

You first began to feel unwell in the middle of a ruck march, your throat forming a frog and pressure rising in your skull. You didn’t pay much attention to it at first as ruck marches are generally brutal; of course you’re going to be uncomfortable. Your feet are going to hurt, your joints will be screaming for a break, especially your back. Slowly but surely, making your way over multiple terrains with a heavy rucksack on, your stomach began to turn. Nausea bubbles up in the pit of your stomach and into the back of your throat, leaving you extremely uncomfortable and confused.

You let out a cough, feeling sweat drip down your neck and into your shirt. You’ve already begun to slow down, catching Soap’s attention who had been keeping an eye on you already. His head turns to you as you stumble a bit on your feet, his eyes narrowing at the way you grab at the straps of your rucksack to balance yourself. “You alright?” Soap asks, slowing down his pace himself. Soap knows Ghost, who’s leading the march will probably chew into his ass as well as yours, but you truly aren’t looking well. Your eyes are distant, your expression one of pain. “Mm, just a wave of nausea is all.” You grimace, trying to wave both Soap and the sickness off.

Again, extreme discomfort and even feeling sick on a ruck march isn’t too uncommon, especially because it’s humid and there’s no clouds in the sky, which means the sun is beaming down on you with no protection aside from your hat and clothing. Clothing, which is not quite breathable. You don’t really realize how your vision is blinded until your boot fumbles over something solid—possibly another rock, or even your other foot—and it sends you crashing into the dirt below. Gravity shows you no mercy as your cheek presses into the ground, your bucket hat shuffled off to the side, exposing your head to the sun.

“Shit.” You garble, trying to push yourself up, but everything just feels so heavy and God, you feel so fucking nauseous. Throwing up sounds really nice right now.

So, you do.

You turn your head to the side and it bubbles out of your throat and past your lips with a burning pain scratching at the walls. You feel a pair of hands pushing you onto one of your sides—thankfully not pushing you directly into your puddle of vomit, which is mostly bile—and another tugging at your rucksack. You don’t have much energy to question anything, or even think all that much.

Someone’s hands are on your head and face, doing something that you couldn’t be bothered to try to recognize. It only clicks when someone pushes your leg into a certain position that you recognize the attempt of the recovery position. You try to blink to regain your vision, but you don’t even know if you actually blinked. Something feels very off as someone is pressing a luke-warm cloth to your neck before you find yourself in the infirmary.

Unlucky for you, your skull is still pounding like there’s a little guy in your head using a jackhammer and your stomach is still very unhappy with your decisions, but you no longer feel like you’re melting. Your vision is blurry for a bit and you realize you’re completely laying down. You blink harshly, your lips feeling chapped and dry—and your mouth tastes gross. Great.

Your hand twitches and you try to sit up, but you’re met with a pair of hands on your shoulders keeping you down on the semi-uncomfortable cot. “Easy.” A low, rumbling voice utters softly, a voice you recognize as Price. Your eyes dart to his face, taking a second for his facial features to come into focus. Your eyes trace the worried furrow of his brow, how his lower lip is barely visible from his mustache and the way it’s curled.

“Wha’ happened?” You croak, not attempting to sit up again but you wince at the pull in your throat. “Was hopin’ you could tell me that,” Price utters, reaching over to grab a white, small styrofoam cup with a plastic straw. He helps you sit up just far enough to reach the straw and to not choke. Once you take a few sips, he takes the cup and puts it back as you lay back down. The liquid helps soothe the ache. “I dunno. I just went down.” You mumble, feeling still quite disoriented.

Price sighs, his arms crossing—he’s wearing that familiar coyote brown shirt and you can’t look down, but you know he’s wearing cammies. “That’s the thing, yeah? You don’t go down.” Price rumbles, sitting down in a chair and scooting it closer. His eyes trace your face, frowning as he notes the sweat. “Medics said you’re sick, running tests now. Why’d you go on a march while this sick?”

You blink at him sluggishly, shaking your head. “I didn’t even realize that I was sick.” You croak, raising your arm to scratch the underside, realizing there’s an IV in your arm. You’re careful as you reach under yourself to scratch. “I started to feel unwell, but you know how those marches are, sir.”

Price sighs, his eyebrows remaining furrowed. “There’s no ranks in this room right now,” He murmurs, uttering your first name. Your glance down for a moment, your mouth feeling oddly dry. “They said you were severely dehydrated. Nearly had a heat stroke, love.”

Your eyes shut, a little “oh” escaping your lips. “That explains a lot.” You respond quietly, opening your eyes for a moment. You meet his stare, and your heart sinks into your stomach from how worried he looks. “I’m okay.” You try to assure him, reaching for his hand. Price immediately moves to intertwine your fingers together, his calloused thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Guess I’m just not used to the humidity, I guess? I was feeling run down earlier, but I just thought it was an off day, y’know?”

Before Price can respond, a military nurse knocks on the door, causing Price to regrettably let go of your hand. His head turns to the door as it opens, a young man walking in, wearing some scrubs with a clipboard. “Oh! It’s good to see you awake.” The nurse greets you, and you return his courtesy with a weak smile. “Let’s see here.. Unfortunately you have the flu, but you tested negative for COVID and strep.” The nurse utters, flipping through the clipboard.

“However, as you did over-exert yourself.. I will have to give you a few days of rest. That means no training, no marches.” The nurse eyes Price as he talks and Price nods. “I’ll make sure they get the rest they need myself.” Price assures the nurse, his fingers twitching, aching to hold your hand again. He wouldn’t let you know, but hearing that you collapsed genuinely scared him.

You don’t ever go down—maybe someone else will occasionally, but no one in his task force ever does and hearing that a ruck march took you out was scary. Price was stuck wondering if it was an underlying health condition, maybe brain related from what he was told; you had collapsed and vomited, and you were shaking. However, they deemed you did not have a seizure. Luckily.

Price kind of spaces out, making a mental checklist of what he can do for you during this time. Soup and other light foods—electrolyte water for sure, crackers.. Heat packs and ice packs, definitely grab you some medicine. Trash bags for vomit. A movie or two.

“John.” You croak.

His head immediately snaps to you, noticing the nurse has left. “Yes, love?” Your eyes scan his face, your hand grasping his once more. You’re shaky and sweaty. “What’re you thinkin’ about?” You ask quietly.

The corner of his lip twitches. He knows you already are aware of the answer, especially when he scoots closer and squeezes your hand once more.

He’ll make sure you’re okay.

🏷️; @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp @s8nsbride @talooolaaloolla @sstormyskyess @spicyspicyliving @tipsykeen @sweetcorpse

this is from my official taglist which you can fill out here. wrongfully tagged or you no longer wish to be tagged? let me know, there’s no hard feelings. :-)

[son1c]

after months of agonizing over it, he's finally here: the sonic variant from my original shatterspace! syzygy, or "ziggy," has a bad attitude, and no powers at all. that's right! after creating a sonic variant that's basically a god in terms of his power level, i've decided this one doesn't have any superspeed.

instead, he uses extreme gear to get around.

as for why he doesn't have a wisp... well, he used to, but it met an unfortunate end when he was still very young. since then, he became prickly and closed off. at least, that's what most people think.

in truth, the twist to his character is that he's the embodiment of sonic's "power of friendship." he's rescued several kids from certain death situations, and has formed his own little gang of superpowered loyalists. among these kids are this universe's cream, ray, and kit. more about them will come later...

also, something to note about this shatterspace: since the world is fractured in two, i figured it would only make sense for space to be like how it is in "treasure planet". so, there's breathable air up there. syzygy and his little friends spend most of their time traversing the cosmos, searching for a way to fix the planet--a goal that most people on earth have all but forgotten about.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Okay!

Gawtin x female reader

Reader doesn’t have the best experiences with flames, due to a accident, somehow their home manages to catch on fire, while Gawtin was away, and reader risks her life it to protect the little one, gaining a bad burn mark in the end

(I don’t remember Gawtin Childs name 😥)

Fighting the Impossible

Pairings: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2864

Summary: A day like any other. Gawtin is out during a hunt for dinner. You are left with Qui'oky and happily watch over the little one in your care. Yet, when danger strikes, your worst enemy, you have to act. Fast.

Author Note: My inbox has already gotten pretty full! I'm going to try to knock some out this weekend since I do have it off. I can't believe you forgot about little Qui'oky! Such a sweetie! (I'm just joking! I'm having to have things written down to remember somethings in my stories now. There's so much going on now!)

P.s. It's my birthday! I'm one year older. Yay! (I got called old by the teenagers at work a couple of days ago. I'm sad now.)

Masterlist

Ao3

One thing about living on an alien planet with a different atmosphere is the weather. The jungle takes up a vast majority of Yautja Prime. It spans on this continent from ocean to ocean practically. With the jungle, comes varying weather. Like now.

A lightning storm had sudden sprouted to life an hour after Gawtin had left. This was nothing new. Plenty of storms have rolled through with little issues. The cottage like house was built sturdy, just like a Yautja. It has held for plenty of years. There was no reason to fret.

Qui’oky waddled around the house, chasing something imaginary. Similar to human children, they have an imaginary mind. It was adorable while the little one played in his own mind, making things up as he went. He would babble in Yautja. You tried to listen to the words but only a mother could understand what he was saying.

A gentle smile graced your features when the child came racing around the corner. You had to catch him before he ran straight into your knees. “Whoa, kiddo!” You picked up Qui’oky and sat him down on your hip. “What’s happening, Oky?” The toddler blabbered the same nonsense before and reached for your face.

With his arms open, you dive into his chest and blow raspberries. He squeals and writhes in your grasp. You keep it up until your lungs are out of air. Then, he’s set back down on the ground. Qui’oky looked at you for a moment before returning his fully sprint waddle around the main area of the house. You laughed to yourself and shook your head. The kid was adorable, it was hard not to.

You walked into the kitchen and pulled some dried meat. Gawtin has told you the name of the creature before. After so many different names of the Yautja species, it was starting to remember which was which. Yautja Prime was extremely diverse with so many subspecies and whatnot. Don’t get you started on the ocean itself.

The meat was delicious. Gawtin is a great cook and loves to pamper with whatever is the catch for the week or day. You find yourself in the living room again, on a spacious couch meant for a Yautja, not a human. A very light, breathable blanket was pulled onto your lap. It would be too hot for a normal blanket.

A sketch pad and pencil were pulled onto your lap as well. After a long day of reading and drawing, you decided the best way to treat yourself is to… draw some more. With snacks, of course. You hum away, pencil in hands, as you planned out a painting to defeat the next you were feeling it.

Ideas poured out onto the page. The storm outside only grew worse and worse. Trees shuttered and groan with powerful gusts against window. Sheets of rain battered the windows, attempting to break down the glass. In the house that Gawtin built long ago, it stood mighty strong, like the Yautja herself.

Thunder cracked like a whip outside and caused the walls to tremble and shake. You jolted at the first sounds of the storm. Qui’oky stopped his running and glanced over at you, gauging your reaction. Like Gawtin has taught you, you steeled your nerves immediately. A strong façade falling upon your features the second he looked at you. You weren’t scared of the storm but if he saw you jump, he’ll follow in your footsteps. To be a strong hunter, that was a bad trait.

Hesitantly, Oky started up his run again. His bright blue eyes were on you for a few more seconds before he fully focused on whatever played in his mind. You were more than relieved. If he had started to cry, it wouldn’t be until Gawtin returned from her hunt that he would quiet down. Gawtin says he’s spoiled because of you. She does little to stop you though. Maybe a little human in him won’t hurt. It could make him into a better hunter in the end.

When another roar of thunder rolled through the jungle, you were more prepared for it. Oky’s blue gaze snapped over to you but found you undisturbed, eating at the jerky. He was quicker to return to his game. You continued to doddle away through your sketch book. Different eyes popping in your mind.

All these ideas have been boiling for some time. You had lost the motivation to draw as of late. Today, it feels like the switch had been flipped.

As the page filled, more cracks and roars filled the electrified air. Your nervousness entered the air as well. Gawtin was out there, baring the brunt of the storm. The hunt had to have been cancelled. No animal would stay out in this kind of weather. No matter what creature on this planet.

The end of your pencil was covered in bite marks. Your focus drifted off of the current page to gaze out one of the windows.

Being this far inland, you don’t believe this was hurricane. The weather was ferocious but it was unheard of a hurricane or tropical storm to get this far into the jungle. You continued to gnaw on the eraser while your eyes tracked the weather.

Some time later, close to nightfall, the rain finally relented. That’s when Oky climbed up next to you on the couch and snuggled against your side. The sweet child chittered and yawned. His own day had been long and tiring. Those imaginary friends won’t chase themselves.

All the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your stomach dropped to the floor. An instinct Gawtin helped hone blared a loud alarm. You were on your feet and hauled the child with you the moment it happened. Your gaze pinned on a window. Something was wrong.

Qui’oky whined and writhed in your grasp, demanding to be put down. The parent instinct in your to protect the child bared its head. You held onto him tightly, still watching closely.

Smoke. White smoke. Barely visible with the dying suns. But you always know the signs of smoke, the signs of a fire.

You were rooted to the spot, breath caught in your throat. It took Oky’s claws into your arm to get your attention.

Fire!

The only thing on your mind was to run. Protect the child. You tightened your arms around Oky and began to sprint towards the door. It was ripped open, slamming into the hidden pocket with a loud bang. You were out of the dwelling the very next second, forcing yourself to dash out of there.

In the air, the heavy smell of smoke was pungent. It took everything in you not to freeze on the spot. Memories flashed behind your eyes, reminding you how deadly a fire could be. You knew the dangers of what a fire could do.

That day, you had lost everything. Everything.

Today, you wouldn’t allow harm to touch Oky.

Qui’oky was heavy. The two year old was bigger than a human toddler. At least a foot taller and thirty pounds heavier. The adrenaline in your veins was powerful. It pushed you past your limits as tree flew past you. Foliage was nothing but a green blur in your vision. All you knew was to get away.

Bziut-ty’s small cottage came into view. You were on the verge of skidding to a stop to make sure Gawtin’s sister wasn’t inside when you spotted her form ahead of you on the trail. The older Yautja’s eyes found yours, relief flooding them. She had been helping another person in the village. Two children were hanging off of her hips.

The large female motioned with her head to follow her. You instantly race up to her, already panting.

“Where’s Gawtin?” she demands and glances over your head, finding no one following you. Gawtin’s home was the furthest from the main area of the village.

“She was out hunting,” you panted and lugged Oky back up further on your side. Your head turned back towards where the plumes of smoke were towering over the massive trees. Trees that easily rivaled the red woods back on your home planet.

Your heart dropped. The bright light of fire was gaining as the wind pushed it into your direction. You could’ve broken down at the sight. A sight that haunted your dreams and waking hours. You stumbled backwards and accidently bumped into Bziut-ty.

The brown female grunted. A dark look passed over her features. You hadn’t thought about it besides the fire. But, you trusted Gawtin. She’s skilled. This jungle is where she grew up in. There’s plenty of lakes and rivers for her to take shelter in. You had to trust in her to save herself while you did the same thing with her child.

“She’ll be fine,” you reassured Bziut-ty or else you’ll drag yourself down.

Bziut-ty’s bright eyes looked down at you. The Yautja nodded her head. She, too, knew Gawtin had the skills needed to survive the wildfire.

“We are heading to the lake. Follow us.” With that, she turned and began to race down the trail again. There were no other Yautjas. It was just the five of you. The three children, Bziut-ty, and yourself. Everyone else had already made their escape.

The lake that Bziut-ty talked about isn’t far from the village. It’s where mothers would take their young so they could learn to swim. It’s plenty large to hold everyone in the village in case of situations like this. You knew where it was. So, you followed a well known path, easily paved from thousands upon thousands walking through here.

Your heart raced, thundering in your ears with each step you took. Oky continued to get heavier and heavier, dragging you down. Bziut-ty was lost from sight, blending into the tree line. You couldn’t blame her. She had two children to look after. They may not be her own, but they where her responsibility.

One look over your shoulder had the world’s end nearing. Your jaw dropped at the sight. The fire! It was licking at your heels. The wind feeding it more and more. You gasped and tried to quicken your speed but the energy in your body was coming to an end. Sobs left your lips. Life as you know it would be gone. It would be you this time to meet your end in a fiery way.

When the path began to curve, you were forced to continue forward. Your feet left the safety of the trail. The unforgiving ground of the forest was harsh on your bare feet. Somehow, you find it in yourself to push forward.

Heat lashed at your back. The fire never leaving you alone. It was like it came back with a vengeance. It hadn’t gotten you that night and now it was back. Ready to consume you.  

This couldn’t be. Your lungs gulped down the receding oxygen in the air. Each breath getting harder to consume. Your head felt light. The little oxygen your body already fought for in the atmosphere was disappearing. But, you kept running, kept fighting. You may not be a warrior but you can still fight.

Ahead of you, you noticed a fallen tree. A young one of the massive trees that made up the jungle. The center hollowed out. That was your only hope. Your speed didn’t change. It felt like it was faltering, allowing for the fire to catch up. You pushed passed the ache in your bones, the need to stop and catch your breath. There wasn’t a chance to.

The log grew closer. You cradled Oky in one, tired arm and dove into the space barely big enough to fit the two of you. You shove Oky in front of you and forced him into the tight space.

Splinters shoved into your skin with each shuffle further into the log. You bite down the pain. Pain was fine. It meant you were still alive, still fighting not only for you life but for Oky’s as well. The poor toddler was sobbing due to your rough handling and the splinters that were intruding into his flesh as well.

His cries didn’t die out. He was alive. He was okay. He has to be. You wouldn’t allow the fire take anymore. It could take the house. That can be rebuilt. But you won’t let it take Gawtin or Oky from you. No more.

As the fire roared over you, your felt the sweltering heat lick at your back. The inside of the log barely able to protect you from the embers following you. It made it hard to breath. You were on the verge of passing out. The lack of oxygen finally catching up. Your body could no longer fight.

A stinging burn on your back is the first thing you awoke to. You hissed and squirmed only to freak out when there was limited space. Your eyes snapped open to find the space dark, barely any light filtering in behind you. Through the darkness, you spotted a familiar form softly napping. Your fingers brushed against his cheek. He was alive.

Relief flooded you. You sagged in your sitting position and started to sob. The fire. It hadn’t won this time.

The worst of it was over but now, you had to get out of here. You patted at Oky’s cheek until his eyes fluttered open. “Hey, sweetie. We need to move. Your mom is probably out looking for us.” If she survived.

No. She had to. You couldn’t lost her too.

Oky groaned and weakly sat up. “Mama?” he babbled in Yautja. You nodded your head with a timid smile. “I hungy.” A light snort escaped you. Food was the last thing on your mind.

The two of your began to crawl backwards. Both your knees and elbows ached terribly. Splinters had made their way into your skin. It hurt to move. All you wanted to do was pass out again but you forced yourself to stand up on the outside of the log.

Destruction met your vision. The jungle around you was ash, black and white. It was dead silent, as the jungle mourned over the loss of its lush green foliage and towering trees. You glanced up to find the tops of the trees mostly fine. Some were lucky, others weren’t.

Oky stopped on the edge of the log to find the same sight. “Oh no,” he muttered and looked he was about to sob again. His home had been wiped out in a single night. You solemnly scooped the kid up and hoisted him onto your hip. He felt heavier than ever. But the ground… you didn’t know if there still hotspots. You would happily take the burn over him.

Both of you started the long trip back home. Your heart directed you where to go as if it knew where the ashes of your home once laid. You could cry at the sight.

When you reached the outskirt of the village, you saw the burnt down homes of families or other Yautjas. You noticed some of them had come back to salvage what they could. None of them you knew personally. So, you continued on, pushing towards the last house on the trail.

Bziut-ty’s home was gone, just like the rest. The female hadn’t been one of the ones to stand outside of her lost house. She survived. She had to.

It wasn’t much longer until you came upon the ashes of a place you once called home. There, on path right before the house, stood an all too familiar form. Your legs nearly faulted underneath you, staggering only a few more feet before they gave out.

Pain shot through you. Every injury on your body jerking from the fall. A broken cry left your lips. Tears clawed at your eyes and fell down your cheeks, leaving behind sticky trails.

Gawtin’s head snapped over at you. Then, the green giant was upon you in a moment’s notice. She knelt down in front of you, hands cupping your dirty cheeks. Her mandibles move quickly, chittering to you and Oky. You weakly offer her child to her, your arms ready to give out. There was no need to be strong anymore. Not with Gawtin right in front of you to carry you.

You cried. Hard. The pain. From your home turned into ashes before your very eyes, to the burns that stung on your back, to the splinters embedded into your skin. You placed a hand on her thigh to lean on her, sobbing uncontrollable. Gawtin scooped your up in her free arm and held you close to.

Purrs poured from her throat. “It is okay, little artist. You are okay. You both are,” she soothed in deep rumble of a voice. Your arms shook as your wrapped them around her neck, securing yourself to her. She lifted you a little higher with her arm under you and tugged closer as well.

Everyone was alive. Everything will be okay. Homes could be rebuilt. People lost couldn’t. Your family was okay.

[relaxxattack]

ok yeah lots of memes about how the shitty new UI is literally a direct carbon copy of twitter and we hate it because of that, yea yea

here’s some actual/extra reasons why the UI itself is shitty beyond the fact that it’s stolen from twitter (in just my personal opinion)

it’s claustrophobic as hell. the old UI felt breathable, felt like you could scroll and actually look at your posts, and now there’s enough shit going on on one page that it actually gives me a headache. (i’ve heard other people say this as well, so maybe it’s not just me that’s overstimulated by all the fucking noise on the dash?)

the ‘dash sorting’ (for you / your tags / what you missed) is way too high up the page now and appears crowded against the top where things like the bookmarks bar are on most browsers. not that anything in this new UI isn’t crowded.

i’ve seen it mentioned plenty already, but there’s quite a lot of unnecessary duplication-- as in, the same buttons that exist in the new left navigation panel show up on the right in blog view, which is just completely annoying and unneeded clutter.

the fact that post interaction options are all on the right side of the posts, but dashboard navigation is now all pushed to the far left of display, is extremely annoying. i’m right-handed, so it’s extra annoying for me to have to constantly go all the way over there. maybe that’s easier for left-handed people, but if the case was supporting diversity, why not just put an option in dashboard preferences to switch the side of ALL the controls? because the post interactions are still on the right.

while we’re on the subject-- tumblr’s original design was actually MUCH more intuitive and easy to navigate. the reason for this is that everything you needed to click was in one small area. you scroll up and down the dash, move slightly up to navigate (home/asks/notifications) and slightly down to the side to interact with a post (reblog/reply). extremely simple, easy to use, even ‘lazy + addicting’, which is what all social media studio exes are supposed to want right now. changing the ui to actually be more work and more frustrating to navigate seems completely opposed to what their obvious business strategy should be.

tumblr’s original design was also much more breathable, with the small icons in the corner looking organized and not taking up much space, and lots of room for the posts themselves to be the main attraction.

there’s the fact that copying someone else’s brand entirely actually just puts you in a bigger, wider pool with much more competition, and makes you much more likely to immediately fall short of that and go bankrupt.

tumblr's original purpose was to be geared toward blogs, and these updates, along with the writing on the wall about blog themes being completely phased out soon, is completely against the original purpose. although sometimes website purposes change for the better, so take that as you will.

and finally the obvious point that you can tell from all the memes: this change is almost universally hated by the core tumblr userbase-- aka the site’s loyal consumers for years and years. driving out their main demographic seems like a very obvious, very quick way to lose a lot of fucking money. they also did this “carbon copy of twitter” update literally just a week after sitewide protest about the idea of this site being anything like twitter, so it feels like a massive Fuck You to literally all of the users. tumblr is rapidly approaching their trust thermocline, and show no sign of slowing down.

these are just my opinions about the ui, and i’m only one person. so feel free to add on other design flaws you think people should be aware of or able to mention! i will probably also be submitting this post as feedback to staff, and will be taking their surveys when i can as well.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Friend Marzi, why do we have an inclination to believe that all historical clothing was very heavy? Fabrics varied in lightness and for the very heat of summer for example an all-silk or all-muslin ensemble could be made very light and breathable if necessary, even foregoing implements like boning, etc. Like, there are ways to not be dragging your skirts around.

Working people and people with active hobbies were already wearing fewer layers anyway, so we shouldn't expect them to be encumbered. Why do we anyway?

Friend Tumblr User Chasingtheskyline! Hello!

(This answer will focus primarily on conventionally feminine clothing, since that's my area of expertise. Just to disclaim.)

I think it's because of the layering, really. And the idea that, as you touched on, Only Rich People Wore All That (not so much- the basic makeup of chemise/combinations, maybe drawers post-1820s, corset/stays, at least one petticoat, skirt, bodice for women was pretty consistent across most of the social ladder during the 18th and 19th centuries at least) so of COURSE it's heavy and impractical. And as we all know, rich people didn't have lives or do things! They just lounged around being rich and not moving! </s>

We're used to one layer of our mostly-polyester clothing being extremely warming in summer because. It's polyester. Breathability is not something people think about much nowadays, since we're so used to just exposing as much skin as possible to cool down. Ergo, the idea that it's layers of lightweight fabric doesn't really occur to people, I think.

Another element, I think, may be that some of these people have carried reproduction historical garments but never worn them. Or weighed them in a heap on a scale- yes, really -and never taken into account the weight distribution when they're on a body. I've owned garments that were a bear to carry, but perfectly comfortable to wear.

Also, you know. We've long had a vested interest in making our own garments seem like The Best Most Advanced Garments. You can find articles from as early as the 1920s decrying Victorian "trailing skirts and trailing hair" as unhygienic and uncomfortable Never mind that the ADULTS saying this would have known full well that shorter skirts were commonplace for situations where Excessive Dirt would be present and grown women wore their hair up. (Also, you know. Unless you're licking your hem, your skirts cannot get you sick.)

Either you're getting only the experiences of women who hated what they wore before- which would somehow be the same fashion writers who once declared that the gowns of 1915 were the best, or 1910, or 1905 -or they had a vested interest in selling something to the public: in this case, the hottest, newest clothes (and hairstyles that required more regular trips to the hairdresser than long hair pinned up). Of course you get those writers calling earlier clothing heavy- they're trying to get people to buy rayon flapper dresses!

Now, does that mean that nobody in history found their clothing heavy? Of course not. One of Amelia Bloomer's key complaints about the fashions of the 1840s and early 50s was the many layers of petticoats women often wore to create the fashionable skirt shape- and while I'm often loath to take dress reformers as sole arbiters of women's opinion, the invention of the cage crinoline/hoop skirt was widely hailed as a marvel for enabling big skirts with much less weight.

But you're so right that this perception is extremely exaggerated nowadays. I do my best to fight it- had this conversation with a colleague today, as I was wearing a long-sleeved blouse of cotton voile and a long cotton skirt to work in 80-degree (F) weather -but. Well. It DOES get frustrating at times.

[sirobvious]

Extremely unimmersive thing in fiction is when there’s, like, a mix of gas mask-wearing characters and non gas mask-wearing characters in the same ‘unit’ or ‘squad’ or whatever. Like, why are only some of them wearing gas masks Either the air is breathable in which case take that stupid thing off so you can see and don’t have to suck air through a tube, or the air is not breathable in which case put your fucking gas mask on

[lichilly]

"Hello there, friend."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🌞⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

I've been playing around with the idea of Jack being the leader of the Cloudy Town cult!

The town is very picturesque and vibrant, with colorful houses, well-kept gardens, and friendly residents. The streets are always clean, and theres a perpetual atmosphere of celebration!

The Sun is revered as a life-giving deity, and to maintain the sun’s favor, periodic sacrifices are made—animals, and in most extreme cases, humans. The symbol of the Sun is a recurring motif in Cloudy Town. found on buildings, clothes, decorations, and just about everything!

Jack is a very well-loved and respected figure in Cloudy Town. He has a special connection to the Sun, often leading prayers, festivals, sacrifices, and much more!

Every morning at sunrise, Jack and the townspeople gather in the central plaza to perform a morning prayer and chant, welcoming the Sun's rise. This helps show their gratitude for the Sun's light and warmth, reinforcing their devotion while also bringing the community together in unity. At sunset, they will gather in the plaza again to pray for the Sun's return, expressing hope and trust in the Sun's cyclical nature, while also strengthening faith.

Once a month, Jack will lead a blessing ceremony, where he anoints participants with a mixture of sunflower oil and herbs under the noon sun. This purifies and bless those in need, ensuring good health and fertility.

Summer Solstice is a beloved celebration for the townsfolk. A special prayer is said at sunrise, kicking off the day with positive energy and high sprits for the special day to come. A grand feast is held at high noon, featuring grilled vegtables, fruits, and meats cooked over open flames to honor the Sun. Dishes are often infused with citrus falvors and herbs lke basil and thyme. Sun-shaped breads and cakes decorated with yellow and orange fruits are served as well, courtesy of Rory's bakery.

The kids of Cloudy Town are welcomed to join in activites like creating sun-inspired crafts and decorations. Sun masks are especially popular, created out of paper plates and decorated with markers and paint to look like the Sun.

As sunset during Summer Solstice, the townsfolk parktake in a fire dance around a large bonfire. Music is played, consiting of joyful singing and instruments. At the end of the fire dance, families will bring offerings such as wreaths, floral arrangments, and sun symbols and throw them in the fire. The smoke that billows from the bonfire will carry the offerings up the sky for the Sun to recieve.

Instead of clown costumes, the people in Cloudy Town wear lightweight, breathable fabrics like dresses, blouses, skirts, and tunics with loose-fitting trousers or shorts, which are more suitable for the sunny weather. The clothes are decorated in sun motifs, often embroidered with yellow stiching that creates beautiful sun rays and abstract swirls across the fabric. Everyone wears a sun pendant around their neck, and are often used during prayers to help feel more connected to the Sun.

In the image above you can see Jack wearing his ritual clothes—a long golden robe with a sun pendant clasping it all together. During rituals, everyone involved wears a sun-themed mask. Special rituals are held at the hidden Sun Temple in the woods by Cloudy Town and are either held at sunrise or sunset. These rituals are usually where human sacrifices are made.

The MC is on a roadtrip with their friends Shaun, Nick, and boyfriend Ian, when their van breaks down a mile or two away from Cloudy Town. With no other option and no cell service, they start to walk in search of a nearby town. After hours of walking, they stumble across Cloudy Town and are quickly welcomed with open arms and warm smiles. The group found the town eerie, far too perfect and welcoming, and is set on leaving as soon as they can. Jack assures the group that he'll get their van fixed promptly and invites them to stay in town for the night. Upon accepting his offer, Jack quickly takes a warm liking to the MC, often making subtle, flatttering remarks about the MC's radiant energy, comparing it to the Sun's radiance.

There still a lot I'm thinking over when it comes to this AU! Some of this info may change with time, but this is the main brain dumb I'm mulling over. I hope you enjoy it!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀🌞⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

BLOOD VER. UNDER CUT

[jmtorres]

was reading something about the importance for fat bodies of wearing breathable, loose clothing and like. idk the size of the author of this article but it can be DAMN hard to find comfortably loose clothing when you're fat. in my extremely recent experience, even if everything about the bust and hips is fine, it still doesn't fit my fucking arms, because designers don't know? or want to acknowledge? that upper arms are a common fat deposit area? or just it's not economical for them to alter their cuts i guess?

just.

i'm trying not to buy clothes that don't fit all of me but sometimes i need a garment and nothing is available and compromises must be made. you GOTTA acknowledge the systemic difficulties of clothes shopping as a fat person when you give advice on the topic or you come off as SUPER tone deaf.

[phoenixyfriend]

Entry of the Gladiators

Remember my Fake Sith AU? Yeah, so I got around to writing it.

I started writing this around a year ago, planning to finish and post for an event. I never finished. So. Here's what I have so far, and let's hope I can get around to finishing it at some point lmao.

The year is 7939 CRC, and Obi-Wan is one-hundred percent not moonlighting as a Sith Lord with a drawling accent and a linen suit. And Anakin surely isn't pretending to be his unhinged Sith second. And Ahsoka definitely isn't actually a vigilante. And Cody absolutely isn't enjoying the chance to manage an entire set of organized crime rings. And Rex certainly isn't seducing the half-mad head priestess of an evil cult. Totally.

Chapter 1: Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)

Fun fact: I went to upload the first chapter of this fic, which I started writing a year ago, and I forgot I had a title for the chapter, so I just slapped something together to put into the chapter title slot.

Then I went back to my planning document and it's the same damn chapter title.

I am very predictable.

----------

Anakin wakes up with a pounding headache. This is, against all wishes, a very familiar feeling for him. Unfortunately, it has almost never been a result of something fun, like alcohol. He’s much more likely to wake up drugged and chained by his enemies or recovering from grievous injuries than, say, boozing up.

Hondo incident notwithstanding, of course.

(Besides, Obi-Wan got drunk too. That makes it his fault.)

As he catalogues his remaining fingers and extremities past the pain in his skull, he hears others shuffling nearby. The Force isn’t warning him at all, so they’re probably friendlies.

There’s a quiet groan a few feet away, high-pitched, that is almost definitely Ahsoka.

When he sits up, it’s to more pain and the ugly little realization that Ahsoka must also be in pain.

Obi-Wan’s voice cuts in. “What did you do, Anakin?”

“Nothing!” Anakin protests, his own voice loud enough to set his headache off. He runs through his most recent memories in hopes of uncovering actual wrongdoing. He doesn’t seem to actually have any memories past entering the possibly-Sith-in-origin temple, though. That’s… a bad sign, in part because they are now outdoors and looking at a completely different sky. “You went into the sketchy temple, too. I don’t remember doing anything that could have knocked us all out, especially not knocked us out and transported us to what’s probably a different planet.”

“Sky’s orange,” Ahsoka notes, getting unsteadily to her feet. There’s a moment where it looks like she’s about to fall, but Rex is closer than Anakin, and reacts fast enough to steady her.

Anakin finally gets a full look around. His master, his padawan, his captain, and Commander Cody, who isn’t Anakin’s in any way, except as a friend, but that’s not an exclusive group, because ‘his friend’ could mean a lot of—

He’s getting distracted.

“If we’re lucky…” Obi-Wan says, stretching his back with an awful cracking noise. He eyes the sky with distaste. “If we’re lucky, the cloud cover will dissipate and let us see the constellations when night falls. We can figure out where we are then.”

“Anticipating hostility from locals, sir?” Cody prompts

Obi-Wan shrugs. “Don’t want to hedge our bets on there being locals. We aren’t where we were, and we aren’t in another temple, either. Most planets in the galaxy aren’t actually inhabited by sapient species…”

“But that’s mostly because most of them don’t have breathable air, isn’t it?” Ahsoka asks. Anakin pats her between the montrals, almost like Obi-Wan used to ruffle his hair when he was this small. Well, smaller. Ahsoka at fifteen tolerates this much better than Anakin at the same age.

Ahsoka at fifteen is, however, the same height as Anakin at thirteen, when Obi-Wan was still ruffling his hair.

“You’re right, Ahsoka. Since this planet does have breathable air and some vegetation, the chances of sapient habitation are relatively high,” Obi-Wan agrees. “So, we’ll see how it goes. If we can find civilization that isn’t hostile to us, we might get off by nightfall.”

Anakin has a feeling that’s a bit too optimistic.

(Continue on AO3)

[carionto]

Humans and "Bragging rights"

Humans perform some strange activities. One of the most baffling is mountain climbing.

They see one of the most hostile and fatal planet-side environmental features and go "I can beat that." as though a natural formation was somehow an opponent they have a personal vendetta against.

It is not a healthy and productive exercise - gyms and proper nutrition and rest cycles in an artificially controlled environment are factually better in every way. Although we've heard of some lunatics pushing even those to ridiculous extremes.

It is also not some impossible to reach cave system or underwater river or whatever - their own space ships, literally all of them, can easily fly up to any mountain top. A current trend among Human teenagers is to vertically park their parent's (often secretly) borrowed vessels nose to peak and take an upside down selfie.

It is, however, according to Humans anyway, a personal achievement. Something you do because you want to because it's there to be done. Another Human, who was less enthused in their explanation, called it bragging rights. Basically handicap yourself to do a thing in a more difficult way for the sake of telling others you did it to feel good about yourself. Apparently many do find it impressive.

Admittedly, it is, sort of. It is remarkable the skills involved, determination and perseverance required, the physical and mental toll suffered, to scale a nigh impossible vertical climb, with decreasing breathable atmosphere, thus requiring additional supplies carried along for the whole endeavor, further increasing the demand on their body.

They speak of elation and a grand sense of accomplishment upon reaching the summit, their enthusiasm captures our imagination and almost makes some of us try. However, no. It still seems pretty pointless, but the Humans are happy, so uhh, we guess that's just that. Good for them. Try not to die. Some do though. We might never understand honestly.

[jasperthehatchet]

Hi ❤️ I found this beautiful red pair of pants at the thrift store a while ago, and I just got around to modifying them (also I fucked around with my photo editor for no reason)

I really love the embroidery on it and the material is extremely soft and breathable. But when I got them they were a bit too big for me and the drawstring was a pain in the ass to use. So I removed the drawstring and mended the hole, then I folded the waist band over itself in two places at my sides and stitched it in place. It's an elastic waist band so I was completely okay with removing the drawstring entirely (I forgot to take a picture of the waist band. Oh well)

I was thinking of adding more embroidery to the waist band but I'm afraid of compromising the stretchy-ness in any way so Idk yet. I think I'll leave it alone for now

I also changed the shape of the legs, they were flared out a little bit. I like the shape so instead of using elastic, I made drawstrings for the bottom of the legs so that I could achieve that poofy pants shape I like, but I also have the option to untie or remove the strings and bring them back to their original shape if I want to

I went from having this in my wardrobe and rarely wearing it to wearing it all the time!!! They're so comfortable and beautiful and they were fun to modify 🌿☀️

*****

[Image ID:

There are 5 total images. The first one is of me in my mirror wearing a black crop top and red pair of pants made of flowy fabric, they're embroidered with an intricate diagonal grid pattern and some vines around it in the same color as the fabric, across the middle of both legs and going down. but the embroidery doesn't show well in this particular image. My head doesn't show in the image so it's just my outfit. I edited the photo and put some sun stickers on it as well as two captions in white text placed near my waist that say: "took the drawstring out and mended the hole" and "tailored the waist band to fit" and a third caption at the bottom of the photo that says "cut open the hem at the bottom of each leg and inserted new drawstrings, changing the shape."

The next two images are pictures of the pants laid out on my bed, one image is zoomed in on the embroidery.

The next image is zoomed in on the bottom of the right leg where I put new drawstrings made of darker red yarn. There's red embroidered vines going down the seams and slightly lighter red embroidery thread on the edges of the hole I cut in the hem. There are three captions in white text in the photo that say: 1. "I embroidered the edges of the fabric I cut so they don't fray." 2. "Once i finished that i stitched it closed 1/4th of the way on the inside to prevent this part of the hem from sticking out." 3. "And I made two new drawstrings from yarn before I realized I could've used the one from the waist band instead"

The last image is of the same are of the pants as the last image but without the text and my hand. And the hole where the drawstrings are coming out of is less visible.

End ID]

[tanuki-kimono]

hello! i have been trying to find some research on sarashi, but couldn't exactly find out if sarashi was still used in the 2000s in japan. would you happen to know if they still used sarashi or was the 2000s modern enough for women to switch to sports bras and other alternatives?

alternatively, would you also know if chest binders were a thing in japan in the 2000s as another alternative?

sorry if this question is weird :,] thank you tho if you answer it!

Hi! Technically you could still use sarashi nowadays, some people do! In fact, it depends what you refers to as sarashi: the long piece of cotton which can be used to cut diapers, towels etc? Or the undergarment?

Sarashi as undergarment probably fell out of fashion because kimono fell out of fashion - and in both case were mostly replaced by Western style garments. Tbh, I only can fathom sarashi in the 2000's being used by veeery old people, during traditional events like festivals.. or by yankee delinquants wanted to look like yakuza xD

Nowadays, modern undergarments are far more easier to put on and wash + often comfier (think tech fabrics like breathable/heat textile for ex.).

Women who often wear kimono have been using kimono bra (着物ブラジャー or キモノブラ) which look something like this:

You can see how the shape is quite similar to sport bra and binders, though material is much less constrictive.

The main point of those bra is that they have inner "pockets" you can pad to fill out your figure in order to achieve a clean kimono silhouette. Pads are for ex. often added to collarbones area, see the half moons shapes on this model:

This is just part of aaaaaall the padding which can be used in kimono fashion:

Note that extreme padding was not as much of a thing before kitsuke dressing schools rose (=after kimono stopped being worn everyday by the majority of people).

Personally, I (and most of tiddy owners kimono wearers I know) use sport bra or bralette + ditch most padding* - even if it means getting a "messier" kimono line.

*I usually only pad my spine area which is pretty curved, but even then padding is not as dramatic as this one ^^;

So, keep in mind that using padding or not is pretty much up to you and depending on your body type and how confortable you are with not looking like a perfect tube (=the "dream" shape in kitsuke school kimono fashion).

Hope this helps!

[mayakern]

are your skirts breathable? i have only been buying clothes made from cotton or rayon the past couple years because it's so insufferably hot where I live and i find anytime I wear polyester I feel so faint. I know some polyester blends are used in sports materials and feel cooling but I can't tell from photos is this applies to your skirts. side question: would you make any of these designs in a natural fiber in the future?

our skirts are very breathable! personally, they are some of my favorite skirts to wear during the summer, because they're light-weight, breathable, and keep me from overheating.

as for natural fibers, we've answered this in our faq, so i'm going to paste that here for ease of reading:

When it comes to custom printed skirts—unfortunately, no. I would love to be able to do that, but it is not feasible for our business. Our skirts are printed using sublimation, which is a technique that requires synthetic material to work. In the case of our synthetic fiber skirts, this works just fine, but in the case of natural fiber cloth, the manufacturer has to use a polyester spray in order to bind the ink to the natural fiber, which sort of defeats the purpose of going natural to begin with. Additionally, this is extremely expensive and is out of budget both for us as a company, and also for most of our customers. We are working on a natural fiber option for our skirts, but the skirts will be dyed in a single color and not custom printed the way our synthetic fiber skirts are. At the end of the day, we prioritize ethical labor and the certification of all our materials/processes as safe and non-hazardous over offering natural fiber.