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#anyways all that just to say euro means shit
nadalffc · 1 year
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no cause someone commented on madrid post that toni's trophy collection is complete and someone replied "euro?" lmaoool
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transmutationisms · 2 months
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could you talk more on eds and biopolitics?
sure, so this is broad strokes and it's also worth reiterating that the energy deficit characteristic of EDs can have a lot of different causes besides intentional food restriction—food insecurity is a huge and underrecognised factor here but there are many others. so when i talk about intentional restriction and the desire to be thin / lose weight, i'm not suggesting these are universal characteristics or causes of EDs.
anyway though, in the context of discussing these things, and particularly the relationship between 'diet culture' and EDs, a perennial frustration to me is that i often hear people fall back on the idea that the desire to be thin comes about as a result of the beauty standards perpetuated in mass media, fashion adverts, &c, without any subsequent interrogation of why it is that beauty itself is now so heavily dependent on thinness. after all, plenty of people have pointed out this is not a universal; beauty varies in different times and places, what is described or depicted as beautiful in historical records doesn't necessarily have much overlap with today's hegemonic standards, and so forth.
so when historicising this phenomenon it becomes very clear that the euro/anglo standard of thinness as beauty is, one, part of the ideological apparatus justifying colonialism thru the creation of race and white supremacy. sabrina strings and da'shaun harrison have written on this. two, the thin ideal is also inextricably tied up in medical discourses defining the ideal body as one that is economically productive, with the promise being that if the populace can be transformed into 'healthy',*** useful, hardworking citizens, the state benefits. control of bodyweight is therefore certainly a means of demonstrating one's supposed self-control, moral discipline, &c, but it is also a demand expressed in medical terms: these two discourses merge and overlap, and are both part of the capitalist state's transformation of its citizenry into a biological resource that can be controlled, managed, and exploited to bourgeois ends (profit): hence, biopolitics.
(***the story of how 'health' itself comes to be so dependent on thinness is obviously a critical piece of all this but this post is long as shit already so suffice it to say that this conflation is also not obvious, necessary, universal, &c &c)
medico-political discourses in the 19th century tended to talk about the dangers of both over- and under-weight more than what we hear now; similarly, if you think about something like wilbur atwater's calorie-value charts, these were explicitly intended to guide labourers to the most calorie-dense foods, because to atwater the central danger to be avoided was starvation among the workforce. these days in wealthy countries like the us, you are much more likely to hear about weight management in the context of demands to reduce; this is of course following moves like the WHO declaring an 'obesity epidemic' in 1997, and the rise in the usa of more explicitly nationalist, militaristic weight-loss rhetoric in the post-9/11 era.
however, my position is that these demands for thinness, and the beauty standard that follows and justifies them, are not a departure from earlier 19th- and 20th-century scientific nutrition advice, just an evolution that, for a multitude of reasons (politics, medical professional interests, insurance company practices, &c) has simply come to focus more on the ostensible economic and national threat posed by fatness. the underlying logic bears the biopolitical throughline: the state has, or ought to have, an interest in enforcing the health of its population, and as part of this demands that you the individual surveil and alter your weight according to the scientific guidelines du jour.
this is fertile ground for the development of what, in extreme form, we regard as ED pathology. first, because even the most purely 'health'-motivated individual engaging in the required degree of bodily monitoring and caloric restriction is liable to respond to energy deficit in ways that can become diagnosably distressing. second, because the morals of 'health' are never far from standards of beauty; thinness is sold in overtly profitable ways (the diet and weight-loss industries) and furthermore, our idea of beauty is often a kind of post hoc justification for the thinness already being demanded by state and medical authorities. which is really just to say, beauty is part of the ideological superstructure both resulting from and invoked as a justification for the material conditions of capitalist biopolitics. again this is very broad strokes, but imo it is a much more useful framework to understand EDs than simply presenting them as a result of desiring thinness because it is glorified in The Media, because... reasons (essentially the rené girard model, lol).
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thetarttfuldickhead · 10 months
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”I talked to Southgate yesterday.”
The sun is not yet up; Jamie is dutifully stretching his legs in the cold yellow of a streetlight when Roy suddenly speaks. It’s the first thing he’s said all morning, except for gruff commands of run and ten more and fucking higher, Tartt. 
“Yeah?” Switching legs to work on his other calf, Jamie tries for a casual tone, fails, and doesn’t much care. “What about?” 
Roy gives him a look: the fuck do you think? There’s no heat in it, though. Rarely is these days, and that thought is a glowing ember in Jamie’s chest, equal parts joy and amazement.  
For a moment, Roy doesn’t say anything else. Jamie completes his stretches and straightens. Waits, with heart hammering hard, hard beneath his hoodie. 
“He got in touch two years ago,” Roy finally offers, seemingly adressing the streetlight. “Before the Euros. Asked about you, what sort of player you were.” He glances at Jamie then, face carefully blank. “I told him the truth.” 
That… hurts, unexpectedly. Not because Jamie is surprised, really, or because it is unfair, because he isn’t and it’s not, but still. It stings, though not as bad as it had back then, and for different reasons. 
He wants to make a joke, say something glib to chase the taste of resigned dismay and shame away: he opens his mouth; closes it again. Looks away from Roy and is grateful that the other man seems content to leave it at that rather than going into the details of just what he’d told Southgate. Fair or not, Jamie thinks he can do without hearing it. He can imagine it well enough. 
Roy is studying him, like he’s expecting Jamie to protest or complain. It feels a little bit like a test, maybe. Jamie remains quiet. Fiddles with his sleeves for something to do with his hands as the silence grows longer and the morning colder around him.   
And perhaps it is a test after all, because after a moment Roy nods slowly before starting to talk again. “Anyway, yesterday I called him up to let him know that those things I said two years ago weren’t true anymore, and that I didn’t want any of that to be held against you now.” 
Jamie’s eyes snap to Roy’s face and he opens his mouth to speak, but Roy holds his hand up, forestalling him. “Now, I have no idea what’s going to happen so I don’t want you getting your hopes up, but I’m telling you this because if he calls I want you to be prepared, because he’ll be asking about that stupid shit you pulled, what the fuck you thought you were doing, and I need you to be on your best fucking behaviour, okay? Don’t grovel, but none of that fucking cocky bravado or defensive bullshit either. You were a prick, you understand that now, and you’ve worked fucking hard at being better. Got it?” 
Jamie nods, quickly, eagerly, because yeah, yeah, he can do that. Would probably be up for a bit of grovelling too, if it increased his chances of being called up. Fuck, he’ll say whatever he has to say, spill his whole fucking heart if need be to prove that he can be the best fucking— 
Suddenly, he frowns. Roy notices and raises his eyebrows. “What?”
“Should I… “ Jamie pauses, uncertain. “Should I tell him, you know, about me dad? I mean, if he asks why I left City to do a TV show, what do I say?” 
Roy considers that for a bit. It occurs to Jamie that Roy probably doesn’t actually know why Jamie ran out on City the way he did; Jamie certainly never told him, and he doubts Ted did either. But he can probably guess the rough shape of it anyway.
“Gareth’s a good man,” Roy offers at long last. “You want to tell him the truth, you tell him the truth, he won’t say a word. Don’t try to use it as an excuse though.” 
“I won’t,” Jamie says with a small scowl and a flash of annoyance, because when has he ever? 
Maybe Roy realizes as much, because his face softens into something almost apologetic. “I’m just saying, because I don’t want any of that old stuff getting in the way of you being called up now.“ He pauses, like he’s hesitating over whether to keep on talking or not. Settles for keep on talking, apparently, because he adds, without looking at Jamie, “You deserve it.”
Three words, and enough for the ember in his chest to roar into open flame. Jamie can feel the heat of it reach his face; gentle warmth in the February chill. “Thanks, Coach.”
--- 
The call comes two days later. Taking it has Jamie running late for training and when he finally rushes into the dressing room Roy lays into him with enough venom to make the other players carefully back away from them. Still, Jamie can’t do a thing to quell the grin on his face.
“What the fuck are you smiling at?” Roy snaps. 
“Southgate called.” He’s a little surprised to hear how dazed he sounds. Feels like he could fucking fly, but the words come out almost hushed. 
Roy immediately stills. “And?”
He should savour it, perhaps, the triumph of this moment. Take a second to marvel at the sight of Roy – Roy fucking Kent – holding his breath as he waits for an answer, but he can’t, he can’t, it’s too big, to happy, too fucking good, and he can’t hold it in. “He’s calling me up.”
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DIAS Black Friday Sale
Once a year, the Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies (DIAS), offers a sale for Black Friday -- DIAS is one of the major publishers for Celtic Studies, many of the best studies of medieval Irish material have come through there.
Some books that I recommend, personally:
Fergus Kelly, A Guide to Early Irish Law (26.25 Euro, normally 35) (THE introduction to law in medieval Ireland)
"", Early Irish Farming (26.25 Euro, normally 35) (Everything you wanted to know about day to day life in medieval Ireland but were afraid to ask. Literally. Everything.)
Medieval Irish Prose
Fergus Kelly, Audacht Morainn (18.75 Euro, normally 25)
Are you planning on becoming a medieval Irish king? Do you want to know what you should do to involve the total destruction of the natural order? Then this is the text for you! Now with English translation!
In all seriousness, this text is used a LOT with regards to studies of ideal kingship in medieval Ireland.
Cecile O'Rahilly, The Táin from the Book of Leinster (26.25 Euro, usually 35)
I'll be real with you, lads: I hate Cú Chulainn. I hate him. I hate his smug, misogynistic face. His creepy multi-pupiled eyes. The shitty way he treats Emer. The way that his presence is like this black hole in the study of medieval Irish literature that means that the Ulster Cycle can get a prestigious yearly conference held in its honor while the other cycles are left with either crumbs or outright dismissal. I think the Táin is boring and episodic as a piece of lit and I've never found anything overly redeeming about it over any other piece of medieval Irish literature, especially since imo other pieces of literature do women (and homoeroticism) much better and get much less praise for it.
...that being said. It's important. It IS iconic, both as a piece of medieval Irish literature and, in general, to Irish literature. Its status as The Irish Iliad means that, if you want to study medieval Irish stuff...you have to read the Táin. And this is a version of the Táin that you might not have gotten, translated and edited by a master of Old Irish, with commentary.
"", Táin Bó Cúailnge: recension I (10 Euro, normally 35)
See above.
Early Irish History and Genealogy
T.F. O'Rahilly, Early Irish History and Genealogy (30 Euro, normally 40)
So. On the record, a lot of what he says here is absolutely not currently believed in the field. Just. No. BUT. There's a reason why I always recommend him anyway, and it's because if you're serious about doing a study of Irish Mythology, whatever we take that to mean...you will not be able to avoid this man. His ideas were very popular for decades and still often are to people who don't really focus on mythology. It's better to know where these ideas come from and to identify them than not, and O'Rahilly, in his defense, had an *excellent* knowledge of his sources. It's dense, it's difficult (rather like the author himself, from the accounts I've heard), but it's necessary if you really want to attack this.
Joan Radner, Fragmentary Annals of Ireland (22.50, normally 30)
There is so much weird shit in the Fragmentary Annals. So much.
Welsh
Patrick Sims Williams, Buchedd Beuno: The Middle Welsh Life of St Beuno (22.50 Euro, normally 30)
I know what you're thinking: "Why the FUCK are they recommending this book about a random Welsh saint? Answer: Because this is how I learned Middle Welsh. The introduction to Welsh at the front of the book + the VERY good index at the back is still one of the best ways to learn Middle Welsh. Also if anyone was watching the Green Knight film and going "Why is there a lady with her head chopped off?" this answers that question.
 R. L. Thomson, Pwyll Pendeuic Dyuet: the first of the Four Branches of the Mabinogi, edited from the White Book of Rhydderch, with variants from the Red Book of Hergest (15 Euro, normally 20)
Once you've gotten enough of a hang of Middle Welsh to know the basics, it's time to dive into the classics, and what better way to do it than with the Mabinogi, starting at the very beginning, with the First Branch? Personally, I dislike a lot of Thomson's orthographic decisions, but, hey, it's the First Branch, and that's Middle Welsh orthography for you.
Ian Hughes, Math uab Mathonwy (22.50 Euro, normally 30)
The Fourth Branch, my beloved. Incest, rape, bestiality (well...pseudo bestiality, really), creating a new life while not being willing to deal with the consequences of it...it truly has it all. Not for the faint of heart, but absolutely worth the read if you can stomach it because imo it handles its themes very well and it's incredibly haunting.
And a lot more -- go in, shop around, see what's available. Even with the older books, they're often things that we're still referencing in some way into the present.
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sebscore · 11 months
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I see your Leclerc brothers holding an anxious little Leclerc's hand and I raise you this: the way they do it is different. Like the 3 of them hold her hand like usual bit their grip(?)/what the energy is like is different so like:
Lorenzo: he holds her hand the way a father would. A strong grip, not strong to hurt her but to help grind her to reality and away from the anxious thoughts. He does not let go till she says to and keeps a watchful eye on her throughout day. He's seen her grow up from day one. Nothing is gonna stop Enzo from protecting his little sister.
Charles: he holds her hand like and overprotective brother (I mean her is one) would. He would hold her hand whilst standing in front of her coaching her through breathing exercises that he would have learned especially for her. Any member of the paparazzi seen trying to take a picture gets a hard Leclerc™ glare and gets the Ferrari media and legal team after them. He is her brother and he'd never let anything hurt her.
Arthur: he holds her hand like a cross between the way Charles does it and a bit of playfulness. When she's calm down and in that state of trying to collect yourself (is that universal or just me?) he would chat about random things that happened in the garage, keeping her distracted and laughing. He would also swing their hands like an excited kid whilst grinning making little Leclerc giggle and forget about her worries. After one particular bad one, Arthur buys her ice cream to help calm her. She was extremely grateful and he never brought that up. However he would constantly bring up incidents where she would borrow money and not repay her ("you're a millionaire Art. You can spare 20 euros for fucks sake" * le gasp* "she swore!!! Charles SHE'S SWEARING THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU- *insert French yelling*" ).
All three of them make her feel safe and protected. She doesn't like going to them constantly but she knows that if she stops they would start crying about her growing up like they did when they saw the edits. She loves all her brothers dearly (enzo more but she won't admit it out loud) and she knows that they love her too.
Bonus:
Olli: further on into their relationship, he would pull her towards him by her waist, kiss her head and cheeks while whispering words of encouragement. That's also the first time she said she loved him (He said so too and when she told her three brothers she had to run and get tissues because they started absolutely sobbing).
Anyways, toodles. Love you babe as always. Stay safe and healthy. Also drink water because hydration and shit :). Till my next brain riot
💤
first of all- this is so illegal of you 😭😭😭 why would you make me cry in the middle of the day 😭😭😭😭😭😭
lorenzo is def the father figure and def keeps an eye on her way more than he does with his other siblings 🥺 that’s practically his daughter right there! 💗 he was a teenager/young adult when she was born so he’s never been the typical brother figure like arthur or charles!
to me, charles’ energy around her is very older brother x father figure mixed! he has a lot of patience with everyone, except when it comes to his sister! he knows that she doesn’t like it when people film her or take pictures of her without her consent so he’ll do everything he can to make her feel better!
the state of trying to collect yourself is def something universal, cause I have those moments too, darling! 💜
arthur is the true brother 😭😭 he opts for distractions as he often isn’t very sure what to do and showing physical affection in public to his sister can be kinda embarrassing in his opinion (they’re still bickering siblings lol)
thur is def the type to ask his sister for his money back, but then when she actually does it, he’s like “no, keep it.”
thinking about having those three as your older brothers makes me feel so emotional (rip only child) and these kinds of messages make me all delulu but oh well 🤷‍♀️ they love her so much and won’t hesitate to break someone’s neck if it came down to it lol
love you too, thank you so much for this! my heart is bursting with joy 🥹🥹🥹🥹 have a nice day and stay safe as well, my love! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
can’t wait till the next brainrot 💞
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hannahssimblr · 4 months
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As the sun sets and the waves glitter in the pink light we four sit on the crest of the dunes, obsessed by our attempts to open the crown seals of our beer bottles with Shane’s keys. It's been twenty minutes and nothing has happened, we just watch him, bored, as he fumbles it over and over again.
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“There’s a knack to it,” he keeps saying, “You'll see,” and then makes a big show of trying to prove himself as the key lamely flicks off the glass neck and barely dents the cap. 
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“We can try using a shoe,” Joe suggests. “I did it before at a party, like. You’re meant to put the bottle inside it and then thump it on a wall and then the cap just, like, comes right off somehow.”
“How would that work?” Jen tuts, “The cap is bent onto the thing, you’re not going to knock it off by ramming it into a wall, are you? Think about the science of it.”
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“We also don’t have a wall,” I point out and flick the little aluminium cap with my nail. I think about the consequences of opening it with my teeth and wonder what kind of fit my dad would have if I chipped a tooth, pierced my ears and shaved my head all in one day.
Joe shrugs, “I’m just throwing out suggestions here, lads. And if you’ve no better ideas then-”
“I’ve almost got it,” Shane grunts just as the key flies out of his hand and lands somewhere in the sand beside us.
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“Ugh! Joe,” Jen cries with resignation, “Just go up to the surf shack and ask Anthony for a bottle opener. Let’s admit defeat here. You can tell him it’s for lemonade or some shit, I don’t care.”
I cringe, “Oh God, don’t send him up there, if Anthony knows we’re hanging around up here then…”
“Then what?”
“Like, do you think he’ll send Liam up to hang out with us again?”
Jen hesitates, “Well, maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll be too busy to come this time.”
I groan, “When is Liam ever busy in the evening though?”
“Well I feel sorry for him.”
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Joe scoffs, “For Liam? Do you guys remember that time that we told him we’d rolled him a special joint but it was actually just bits of grass and herbs from Jude’s kitchen? And he thought he was high and started rolling around on the carpet and everything?”
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I smirk and Jen thumps my arm hard because I’m the only boy she can reach. “Youse are all mean,” she says, even though she wasn’t there so she doesn’t actually know how funny it was. “Liam is nice, he’s just trying to make friends.”
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Joe laughs, “Here I’ll go up to the surf shack and tell him we’re playing truth or dare again. Dare him to talk about something that’s not surfing or that time his da brought him to Australia, for once.”
“Piss off Joe, just go get the bottle opener. I don’t care if Liam comes over. You can all challenge yourselves and be nice to him for once, you dickheads.”
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When he leaves I prod her knee, “Since when are you so nice, hm?”
“I’ve always been nice, I don't know what you’re on about.”
“Yeah Jen,” I roll my eyes, “You’re an angel.”
A bottle cap suddenly flies down the dune between us, followed by a satisfying pop. “Got it,” sighs Shane. “Finally.”
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A short time later Joe comes back with the bottle opener, but is perplexed to find us already drinking. 
“Shane got the key thing to work,” I explain. “But thanks for going anyway.”
“Aw what? I had to talk to Anthony for ages when I was there. He asked me about school and everything.”
“Oh no,” Shane hands him an open bottle as he plonks onto the sand, “and Liam?”
“Dunno, wasn’t there. Didn’t see him anyway.”
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“Good,” I mutter, and Jen elbows me sharply in the ribs and hisses, “Well he would have been welcome if he was there, right Judie?”
“Right.”
“Wait I forgot something,” Joe digs around in his hoodie pocket and pulls out a little bag, “I ran into my brother on the way to the shack, he was coming back from work. Gave me this,” he flicks it and dangles it in front of us as though it’s something more exciting than the three euros worth of the worst quality hash that money can buy. 
“Giz that,” Shane snatches it out of his hand and peers at it closely, “Man that’s basically just weed dust.”
“Enough to feel something off it though.”
“Hardly.”
“Well either you want some or you don’t.”
Shane flicks the dregs of his beer onto the sand and then launches the glass bottle into the marram grass, “Yeah, fine so.”
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Joe glances at Jen, “You in?”
“Yep.”
“Jude?”
I hesitate, “Nah, man, I’ll just stick with the beer for now, thanks.”
Shane laughs, “Jude gets sick off weed.”
“Seriously?”
I cringe, “Not all the time.”
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Jen is laughing then, “Jude gets sick off everything. Once we were inhaling permanent marker fumes in first year and he went and got sick out the changing room window, and there was that time that he had a shot of tequila-”
Bile rises immediately in my throat at the memory, “Yeah, thanks, I don’t want to think about it.”
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She cackles, “Oh come on, and that time in the playground when we-” I dive toward her to push her into the sand and start poking her ribs where I know she’s ticklish so that she has to stop talking about it. 
“Stop!” She shrieks, “God, stop!”
“Are you gonna shut up? Huh?”
“Yes, yes I swear!” and as she lies there gasping for air I fidget with the laces of my shoes and the frayed thread of my shorts with jerky, trembling fingers. I don’t want anyone to know about the things we used to do in the playground. They wouldn’t find it as funny as Jen does. Or, in a worst case scenario they might be intrigued and want to know more about all of the things that I hate talking about the most. 
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“Do you get sick off beer too, man?” Joe says, “‘Cause my brother says that Americans can’t hold their beer at all. That they get drunk off nothing. Is that you?”
“Your brother? What does he know? Didn’t he get his head stuck between the railings on Wexford bridge and have to be cut out by the fire brigade?”
“Twice, yeah,” Joe laments, “He’s got big ears, like.”
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“I heard he got his head stuck in the window bars of the boys school in town too,” Shane pipes up, and Jen starting giggling into her collar until she can’t hold back anymore and collapses in a fit of raucous laughter, and then Shane does, and I do too, while Joe protests and tries to explain to us that his brother was just doing it to be funny, and how there’s actually nothing wrong with him despite what we may think. Tears blur my eyes with laughter , and every time I think I can stop I’ll catch eyes with Jen or see Shane’s red face and I’ll laugh all over again, and so Joe huffs and plonks onto the ground with us and starts to roll a clumsy joint in silence. 
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“Hey guys, what’s so funny?”
A familiar voice causes Shane to jump to rigid attention and bring a self conscious hand to smooth down his cowlick, and it’s from looking at him that I know that Clóda is here. Everyone springs to attention whenever she shows up.
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She stands at the bottom of the dune like some kind of vision with her straight blonde hair swishing around to her mid back and slim legs extending out from the shortest denim shorts that I’ve ever seen on a girl, and yet they don’t look tacky on her. Nothing looks tacky on Clóda, and I’m so busy looking at Clóda in her non-tacky shorts that I don’t even notice her friend until she introduces her. 
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“This is my friend from school, Rachel,” She says. Rachel has blue makeup on her eyes. That’s all I notice, because my eyes have slid back to Clóda again and the way her mouth moves when she says, “We were just going for a walk. Are you guys up to much?”
“Smoking a joint if you want some,” says Joe.
She pulls a face, but Shane jumps in quickly, “We’re not actually, he got some shit hash from somewhere but none of us want it. Here, we’re just having a few beers and talking and stuff if you want to hang out.”
And Joe throws his hands up incredulously and mutters to himself as he stuffs his wonky, unlit joint back into his pocket in defeat and disappointment that nobody wants to get semi stoned on the accumulated remnants of the dust from his brother’s friend’s weed grinder tonight.
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But it’s okay for everyone else, because Clóda and Rachel do want to hang out, and they scale the dunes to sit with us, and luckily by now Shane has perfected the art of popping bottle caps off with his house keys so that he can impress them both and be equally impressed with himself. I consider starting a bet with Jen to guess how long it will take for him to slip the fact that he plays centre field on his local football team into the conversation but decide against it in case she accuses me of being mean and the girls hear her.
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“Nice earrings,” Rachel sits down to my left, and I know that she probably intends it as some sort of insult, maybe even a flirtatious insult but I don’t really care about what Rachel, Clóda’s friend from school, thinks about my earrings. 
“Thanks,” I say, “they’re from Claire’s Accessories,” which makes her laugh, and she scoots in closer to me, “What’s your name?”
“Jude.”
“There’s a girl in my school called Jude.”
“Right, well I guess you’ve found two of the girliest things about me in the first minute of meeting me.”
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She laughs again even though it wasn’t that funny, and Jen, to my right, laughs privately to herself too. “Hehe,” She imitates in a high pitched voice as Rachel turns to take a beer from Shane. “She fancies you.”
“I don’t care.”
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There’s a gust of cool air on my head as my cap is whipped from me, “I like your hat,” Clóda says. She puts it on and leans down to rub her hand over the surface of my shorn head, “But I don’t like your new hair. When did you shave it off?”
I peer at her and smile. I don’t care about Rachel, but Clóda? Clóda does wild things to my insides. “Are you saying you liked my old hair?”
A shrug, “Yeah it was alright. I just preferred it.”
“I might have left it how it was if I’d known that.”
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She blushes and giggles, and Shane looks at me, and as I look back at him a muscle twitches in his cheek. I shrug. What are you gonna do? I can’t help it if the girls I like usually seem to like me back. I’m lucky like that. 
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Rachel grabs the hat to distract her and puts it on backwards, and she pulls a stupid face and then they giggle and wrestle each other for it while Shane and Joe watch them with fascination. 
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“Oh, okay, they both fancy you,” Jen hisses, “surprise surprise.”
“Are you jealous?”
She rolls her eyes, “Please, I’ve lost all hope of finding one single lesbian in this whole town. I’m the only gay for ten miles. I’ll just die alone this summer as I predicted.”
I jut out my bottom lip, “poor Jen.”
“Yeah, piss off.” 
Rachel whoops abruptly and loudly near my ear and snatches my beer bottle from the hollow I made for it in the sand. “I’ve your beer now,” she points out, and dangles it in front of my nose. “I’ve your hat and your beer,” 
“I can see that.”
Jen hisses at me, “she just wants you to flirt back. Just go wrestle her for the stupid beer. Don’t embarrass her.”
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Clóda thunders down after her, grabs my hat and waves it triumphantly in the air. “I have it now! What are you gonna do?” I get up for her. 
“Hey, now, give me back my hat,” I say, and I wink at Jen, and she winks back, and I chase down the beach after them both. 
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Goodnight Story #9
[Plain Text: "Goodnight Story #9" bigger and cursive /end pt]
Today was supposed to be a normal, peaceful day for Verde. Unfortunately, Skull, Reborn and Fon somehow ended up bored. So Verde has some slightly annoying company.
Skull is still inspecting Verde's forging oven, naively crawling halfway inside it, unnecessarily fascinated with the way it's set up. Of course Reborn pushes the door shut, making Skull squawk in surprise, before addressing Verde much too nonchalantly. "What are you drawing?"
Verde doesn't look up from his work, calmly continuing to sketch, even as Fon hovers over his shoulder, curiously watching him work. Verde just barely remembers Reborn likes to have his questions answered. "Schematics."
Fon hums inquisitively, shaking his head just a tiny bit. He would not be able to read half of the Italian Verde used in this schematic, so his confusion is understandable. "No... No that's a human arm."
Verde doesn't sigh, but he wants to. Fon is just curious and wants to learn, his lack of a formal education is not his fault. So Verde educates him, his tone gentle. "Prosthesis, Fon. I'm designing a prosthetic arm."
Fon hums softly again, leaning just a bit closer. Verde can feel the body-heat rolling off of him now. The awe in Fon's voice is entirely genuine. "That's pretty cool. It looks... So life-like."
Of course, such a comment draws Reborn near and that man knows no personal space. Verde just huffs when Reborn drapes his weight over his shoulder, snuggling close shamelessly and taking a look himself. The momentary pause that follows really says more than enough, but Reborn voices his opinion anyways. "Are you... Sketching from memory?"
Verde hums faintly in acknowledgement, adjusting himself under Reborn's weight and once again losing himself to focus just a little. After a minute, Fon's weight is a little added surprise, but Verde honestly doesn't mind. At least they're resting on both of his shoulders now and distributing their weight more evenly.
Skull speaks up then, no longer in the Forge, instead he's admiring Verde's indoor garden. He's gently cupped his hands around a still-green orange, fascinated and endeared. "I still can't believe you build all this yourself."
This, of course, meaning the highly sophisticated watering and lighting systems that support Verde's little garden. That was one of his first private projects Verde was able to fund. It's been years since then. "I can build anything. All I need are materials and time."
Of course, Reborn has to be a little shit, sounding entirely too amused as he reminds Verde. "And money."
Verde promptly shakes Reborn and Fon off of his shoulders, frowning to himself. That reminder was unhelpful and uncalled for. Verde quickly resolves to ignore them starting now-
But Reborn sighs, over-exaggerated and impatient. You can practically hear the eyeroll and Verde turns to him, the words to tell him off already on the tip of his tongue. But...
Reborn is holding an envelope, thick with whatever is inside it. He sounds smugly amused again. "Let me finish. You need money for your projects."
Reborn offers the envelope to Verde, something distinctly fond in the look in his eyes. Fon and Skull are nearby too, looking adorably excited now. Somehow Reborn still sounds like he's teasing him. "This is for you. Happy Valentine's, you nerd."
Verde blinks rapidly, briefly glancing toward his calender, before accepting the envelope, entirely suspiscious. Fon and Skull look almost too excited. From that alone, Verde can deduce that this present was probably some kind of group effort.
Verde picks the envelope open, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he unearths an actual stack of bills. By the looks of it alone, this is at least 30.000 Euro. This might just be enough to finish Verde's next 4 projects!
Verde looks at his idiots again, his chest oddly warm, even as his voice comes out unsure and stern. "Why?"
Skull speaks up this time, fidgeting his hands together, shifting around. He's blushing, the way he does when he thinks he's in trouble. "Actually... It was Viper's idea. Cause I kept going on about... Feeling bad for breaking your glass stuff..."
Oh, yes. Months ago, when Skull was in a particularly helpful mood, he'd dropped a whole box of glassware. Several beakers, numerous vials and even some syringes and droppers where lost. But nothing particularly important was broken. Verde had told him it was fine. He'd even outright forgiven him after Skull brought him some new glassware from who knows where.
So this is just silly-
Fon gently brushes his knuckles over Verde's cheeks, pulling him out of his thoughts entirely and giving him a very warm smile. "Skull and Viper came up with the idea because of that incident. But it's supposed to be a gift first and foremost."
Reborn is standing back a bit now, his arms loosely crossed, a subtle indication he is not entirely secure with the vulnerability he is about to present. Verde sometimes wonders if Reborn is aware of his own tells actually. "We know how much you love your projects."
Skull and Fon nod their agreement and Verde blinks down at the stack of cash again. He won't reject this, cause that would be quite idiotic, but... It feels wrong to accept this much without somehow returning the favor. So, after just a moment of thought, Verde offers the one thing he can give freely. ".... Thank you very much. May I hug you?"
Skull almost chirps like a bird, nodding enthusiastically and bouncing in place. He is in Verde's arms before Verde has even fully stood up out of his seat.
Fon chuckles at Skull's eagerness, but he too nods, flushing faintly. He moves more slowly, careful to control his strength when he cuddles into Verde's embrace next to Skull.
They are both so tiny in Verde's arms, their cheeks barely rest comfortably against his shoulders. Verde makes sure to give both of them a good squeeze, placing two tiny kisses on top of their hair, before looking at the last person that has earned a hug today.
Reborn is blushing surprisingly brightly, his arms crossed just a bit tighter and he'd averted his eyes for just a moment. Verde catches his eyes when he looks at them again. Verde wordlessly gestures that Reborn can absolutely join this hug, but Reborn hesitates.
So Verde gently pats Skull's back and presses light on Fon's shoulder, slowly breaking their embrace, so both of his arms are free to accommodate Reborn. He offers the hug again, silently. And the hesitation completely leaves Reborn.
Reborn is a bit taller than Fon and Skull. He can rest his chin on Verde's shoulder quite comfortably, but he also hugs like a vice. If Verde hadn't preemptively reinforced his skin with just a touch of lightning, he might've gotten a bruise from that tight squeeze.
Instead, Verde is perfectly content like this, cuddling Reborn closer for a moment, before moving to put a kiss on the man's head. That accursed fedora gets in his way though, which very briefly gives Reborn a case of the giggles. Then Reborn tips his hat back and goes up on his tiptoes, placing the gentlest of kisses on both of Verde's cheeks.
And just like that, Reborn breaks the hug and tugs his fedora back down again to cover his expression. He's blushing and smiling and immediately turns to leave the room, because that was probably more than enough vulnerability for him, for the rest of the month.
Verde will also feel very warm and loved for about a month at least. Especially since Fon and Skull overcome their shyness and bashfully request another hug.
And it's only been a few weeks at most since the last time Verde felt this Treasured and Beloved!
.... Verde knows he's earned this affection. They all did.
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new-berry · 8 months
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So @longeyelashedtragedy Anthony Gordon and Tommy Doyle played in some of the England age teams (under 18’s up to under 21’s). Anthony obviously plays for Newcastle and Tommy is in Man City purgatory on lots of loans currently Wolves, last year he was at Sheffield where he scored several times but one bloody exciting goal for them they got them out of the championship.
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Anyway they were both in the team that won the under 21 Euro’s. Where Anthony Gordon kept this moustache until the other players saw it, and it was instantly gone. (I don’t know that for a fact, but I know it to be true.)
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Touchy!
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They spent quite a lot time celebrating. When Anthony taken off in the final Tommy replaced him. (He took it better than that game where he shoved Eddie Howe’s hand away).
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They both posted this picture on their instagram and this is the comment Anthony left.
Look Anthony Gordon is probably a (at least slightly, probably more than slightly) arrogant dick head who has grown up and has just the issues that all men’s football players have.
But I guess I’m always slightly protective of my guys. Also he got so much shit from Everton fans when he left, like the shitty Everton statement which was so half assed even talk sports (which is basically genetically evil) was like “that’s a bit rough”.
The ‘fans’ that like boxed the players in their cars and yelled abuse at them. Like seriously did he sleep with every fans wife? There is not a lot of grace there, just saying. And I guess I was interested in this because like.. people seem to like him? He’s not shunned by his team mates (they are right to mock his clothes, I understand that.) I mean he’s a normal talented player. And he has been so much better this season. Has Newcastle? Look I love them I love them. I don’t care.
And until Lewis Miley plays soon, it was nice to have some youth players that were being considered for England squads.
And @purefractals and I can agree that the cheekbones are appealing. So is his back.
Anyway, everything spirals around Frank Lampard who was his coach briefly at Everton. Gordon was one of the better players there (guys I’m not here to yuck anyone’s yum, I try to be amusing about other people’s teams and not an epic dick, but you all watch football you are all fully aware of Everton’s issues.) and so of course Anthony got pulled into the (fictional) Lampardverse madness (by me). Pretty sure I am the only person who has written him ever, but there are many ways to look at it.
He was the first player to post when Frank was shitcanned even though Everton were (you can look it up, I’m not making this up) fucking dire under Lampard.
One of things that is striking about him as a player is he is fucking fast. Anyway, the player growing up, the player who shoved his coaches hand away, and the potentially excellent player who needs to score more (all of bloody Newcastle) even getting the number ten over Miggy he’s someone who has stuff happening around him.
And to draw my talk to a close, he needs to track down the guy who did his hair in Georgia and get him a work visa for England becuase that was the best haircut he has had since he arrived in Newcastle.
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hedghost · 7 months
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Another Arsenal fan here. Frankly I could not give less of a fuck about the booing. Alessia didn’t care so why are there fans who still do…? I find booing in general to be a waste of time but I’m not going to get mad or complain when people do it, because it’s my opinion. Just because I think booing is unnecessary and choose not to do it doesn’t mean everyone else has to feel and act the same way. In the grand scheme of things booing is incredibly insignificant anyway and I’m bored now
Regarding the Arsenal fanbase, I’d say it is not as common for there to be a fan who lands in between the following two main types: the ones who understand and practise what it means to be a respectful fan, and the ones who typically lack self awareness, don’t view players as actual humans and/or cross boundaries. You encounter the second type more than any other type because they are the loudest on social media. Obviously this is the case for every club fanbase but I think Arsenal has more of the second type than the first at the moment (not to mention the influx of younger fans post-Euros), making the whole fanbase seem more obnoxious. There is very much a “either you’re one of us and follow our rules or you’re not a true fan” vibe so being passive/neutral isn’t really an option. In my experience at least
The culture of the team and fanbase is intense and intimate but not always in a good way, in my opinion. My theory about how it got this way is related to the WPS vlogs. Those gave fans an inside look on the team and player dynamics. They made it easier for fans to connect with players in a way that fans of other clubs maybe weren’t able to with their players at the time. Made the whole thing more personal. Over time people began to feel entitled to knowing personal information about players, so they’d do weird shit to try and figure it out if the player wouldn’t say anything. This mindset has stuck around and fans now treat any new player the same way because it’s been normalised (fans rarely face real world consequences for it so it’s easy to continue). They are infantilising Alessia because it has been accepted as a normal thing to do with players for years. All of this is why parasocial relationships, especially unhealthy ones, can be common among some Arsenal fans. I could talk about this for hours but my ask is already long as hell (sorry)
nah this is such a good take thank you!! i know i talk shit about arsenal fans but let it be known i am not talking about fans like you bc this is a very sensible and intelligent take so cheers! i agree 100%, it’s a shame that these kind of fans are so vocal on social media because it taints the experiences and voices of normal fans with sense ! 💕💕
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iheartgracie · 2 years
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claire biggs and gerard gibson quotes in keeping 13
“Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" I asked gently. "It's obvious that he feels the same way."
"He doesn't," she mumbled. "It's all about the chase for him. If I give in now, he'll get bored."
I pondered her words for a moment before saying, "He might surprise you?"
"And I might disappoint him," she mumbled.
I stopped walking. "What do you mean?"
She turned back to face me but didn't respond.
I studied her pained expression and blew out a breath. "Claire, you couldn't disappoint anyone if you tried."
"Yeah."
"I mean it," I pushed. "And least of all Gibsie. He adores you. It's as plain as the nose on his face that he's mad about you."
"Because he can't have me," she muttered. "Because I'm the one girl who hasn't given into him.”
“Gerard and I have been like this since as far back as my memory goes. He's always 'wanted me' and I've always played it down ��" Her words broke off and she groaned, like talking about this physically pained her. "Because I don't believe him."
"You don't?"
"No, I don't." Her brown eyes burned with vulnerability as she spoke, "I know Gerard Gibson better than anyone on this planet – hell, I know him better than he knows himself – and trust me when I tell you that boy can't pay attention to anything for longer than a day. I've seen it – the way he is with girls. He'll give a girl everything for one day and then he's onto the next one. I don't even think he can help it. I know he doesn't do it on purpose." Her cheeks flushed bright pink. "But I can't be just another day to him – just another girl. I don't want to pour my heart out to him, only for him to turn right around and realize that the chase was more fun than the catch." Shrugging helplessly, she added, "I think it would break me.”
“Quick, do something else."
"Something like this," Claire replied sweetly, before grabbing a pillow and flinging it at him.
"Fucking perfect," Gibsie choked out, catching the pillow mid-air. "Add in pillow fights and it's like free porn."
"You're a perv."
"A perv who sorted that hockey thing for you."
"You did?" Claire's eyes widened. "How?"
Gibsie shrugged. "I have my ways." Titling his head to one-side, he studied her back and asked, "Holy shit – are you wearing a thong?"
"Gerard," Claire sighed.
"Is it red?" He squinted his eyes and then groaned. "It's fucking red, isn't it?"
Rolling her eyes, Claire climbed off the bed and padded over to where he was standing. "You're an idiot,”
“I'll come anywhere you want if you just show me that thong," Gibsie pleaded, dropping his hands to her waist. "I'll clean all the pots. I'll do anything. Just one peek. That's all I'm asking."
"You'll come anyway," she huffed, catching ahold of his school tie and dragging him out of her room.
"You've got that right," he agreed, trailing after her like a puppy dog on a lead. "Is your bra red, too?"
"I'm not wearing one."
"Oh, Jesus.”
“Gibsie bought this one for her thirteenth birthday and demanded she name it after him," I said. "She compromised and called it Gerry."
"I remember," Johnny sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Bleeding thing cost him eighty quid. He was cutting grass for the entire summer to pay for it."
My eyes widened. "Eighty euro for a teddy bear?"
Johnny shrugged. "That's the one she wanted.”
“You like her, she likes you." I threw my hands up. "What's the problem?"
When we reached his car, Gibsie spun around to face me, chest rising and falling quickly, car keys clenched in his white-knuckled fist. "Do you know what the statistics for relationships formed during childhood lasting are?"
Exhaling breathlessly, I shook my head. "What?"
"They're low, Johnny," he hissed. "Very fucking low. The odds of being with your childhood sweetheart twenty years from now are less than fifteen percent."
I gaped at him. "Again, what?"
"I'm not prepared to be another statistic," he choked out, sounding deadly serious. "Not with her. So, I'll do what I have to do, I'll bide my time, but I won't tie her down. Not until she's ready. Not until we've both lived a bit of life first.”
“I had to suffer the adventures of Thor and his cat on my own the last time I came over."
"Leave Gerard alone," Claire grumbled. "So he likes his cat. Big deal."
"He walks his cat." Lizzie rolled onto her side to gape at Claire. "With a glittery, jewel encrusted collar and lead." Narrowing her eyes, she said, "Please don't tell me you think that's normal."
Claire shrugged. "I think it's cute."
"Of course, you do – you think everything that big eejit does is cute,”
“Well, Gerard makes them for me and I love them," Claire replied. "Give him your thoughts, Shan. Find your feelings in songs and reveal them to him.”
“Isn't that lovely, Gerard?"
"It sure is." Gibsie snickered.
"You should be taking that young one to the pictures," Mam added. "What's her name – the Biggs girl."
Gibsie reddened and I smirked. Ha fucking ha.
"Claire," he said, clearing his throat.
"Ah, yes, Hughie's sister." Mam smiled to herself as she ran the iron over my jeans. "You've been chasing after that girl since the day Johnny brought you home here, looking like a little blond, chubby cherub.”
“Do you remember the summer back in primary school when you all camped out in the acre? You fell into that bush of nettles trying to lift her over the electric fencer because she was afraid of the neighbor's bull?" Mam laughed softly to herself. "You were all stung and nettled but you still managed to get her out of that field."
"Oh yeah," Gibsie chuckled, scratching his chin. "I forgot about that."
"I said it to Sadhbh and Sinead back then that they would have to keep an eye on the pair of you," Mam mused. " You were supposed to be Hughie's friend, but you and that young-one were always inseparable. Joined at the hip with that little girl, you were.”
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soul-dwelling · 1 year
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Also I wonder if there was a change in ff, not just in a surface story way but theme way, atleast partly, because I guess it could have been just a red hereing to insinuate that the evangelist is some eldritch alien dimmensional hopper with all the stuff with the bugs and other stars that dont really make sense with the "rhe enemy is humanity itself thing", but maybe the plot was about culutral imperialism but got chaged because of too much controverssy, thats why the invasion paralels?
As I’ll say in another post, this feels like it was Ohkubo wanting to satirize religion: “Oh, these religions have their weird creation myths full of paradoxes and stuff that makes no sense? Then my indictment against religion, Fire Force, will make its own creation myth that is so batshit crazy that it out-does the nonsense of religions overall!” 
It feels weirdly immature, just Ohkubo’s goal to dunk on believers. And I say this as an agnostic: I am critical of beliefs and organized religion--but I also can make my own opinions around them by looking at the evidence myself without criticizing the need people have to believe in something, or to not believe because you don’t need beliefs to compel yourself to be a decent person. 
That is what I think when you bring up the “theme way”: none of these creation myth details (the eldritch aliens, the dimensions, the bugs, the other stars) have to correlate with each other--it’s a creation myth, just make shit up. You’re Timon in The Lion King saying the sky is just full of fireflies, it makes sense to you, you get to move on. That is Ohkubo’s approach: this shit won’t make sense anyway, stop being a Yuu and be a Vulcan. 
It also is like X-Files, mixing together different content from various belief systems, conspiracy theories, ancient monsters, and some legitimate science: bugs are aliens, there are other dimensions, stars used to be planets, and so on. 
“The enemy is humanity itself”: I’ll bring this up in Ohkubo’s paradoxically puritanical stance on sex, but there is such misanthropy in this work. 
(I got to find the source again, but Ohkubo had said he was indeed a misanthrope. Maybe it was sarcasm in his end-of-volume notes?)
For all of how Shinra inspires people at the end, this is a pretty cynical story that thinks humans are awful. (If our world leads to the Fire Force world, the implication that stuff like the nuclear bombing of Japan and stuff like 9/11 led to this world seems gross--it’s taking real-life horrors to fuel his fiction, not in a way to comment about what led to those horrors but just shock value and edginess without meaning.) 
Even the “cultural imperialism” angle seems muddled. 
We have Benimaru and others resisting what is portrayed as a Euro-centric Christo-centric indoctrination of Japan. 
We end the manga with the pre-Soul Eater world. Now Akitaru and others are using Japanese naming conventions (family name first, personal name last), and by the time we get to Soul Eater the rest of the world seems to be in Lord Death’s image--and all speaking Japanese. 
There is something odd here, as if the story is placing Japan as having become the superpower of the world. It’s no longer America and the English language as the dominant force--thanks to the world being reborn starting in Japan thanks to Shinra, Japan is on top. 
This should be a re-staging of the opening to this manga: we started with this multicultural Japan but one in which a western religion and western conventions had pushed out Japanese cultural practices. We can show an actual multiculturalism that is not erasure but presence of all…and instead it weirdly feels like it is Japanese domination over everything else? 
That should be a meaningful satire to criticize westerners thinking they control everything--but it comes off to me anyway as just “the shoe is on the other foot now”: there isn’t observation for how Japan as the global leader would be good and bad, it is presented as just what it is, no reflection on the ramifications of this. It isn’t a taking down of the US or western nations or Christianity for awful things they have done; it’s just something that happens to explain why all the people in Death City speak Japanese--a question almost no one cared to ask because it’s a manga made in Japan, of course the characters in your story all speak Japanese, who cares.
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raydioactivegeorg · 2 years
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hi yes so on my birthday my grandmother my brother and i went to hamburg right. and i actually discovered the best place in all of germany which is ✨thalia✨
it's this huge bookshop and oj my gods i love it so much
it has a lot of books right but also this section with things that aren't books and also a cafe thing??????? and a second floor???? but like i always went to the section with the books in english because im too stupid do read anything in german but like. they had heartstopper books. HEARTSTOPPER BOOKS and like pride things right next to them like dude i was going JASIJHDSJKHASJKDHGWA the whole time lookng at it but my grandmother was there so i couldn't really. anyway the english section DDUDE THEY HAD MADELINE MILLER AND THE CLASSIC SECTION WHERE I SAW THE MOST GORGEOUS COPIES OF DRACULA AND DORIAN GRAY AND FRANKENSTEIN ORIGINAL 1818 TEXT AND ASDHWHGFDCBEHBKGEIBHDBHKSKHBWKHBFKJBHCBN@!!@WJH!UHES@ AND SHERLOCK HOLMES AND AGATHA CHRISTIE AND JANE AUSTEN AND IYTS JUST ASJNHGBDFHSVBFHDVSB
so hwat i got i got circe (in english because in german it cost like three euros more lmao???? and i know english better)
what do i even need to say about this. this book is so fucking good. i dont know if youve read it but if you havent do it read it it made me cry like seven times
in my defense, telegonus
i also got two jane austen books (mansfield park and northanger abbey) and im reading mansfield park now im halfway through and its really good and i would die for edmund and i want to kick henry in the balls (btw. asshole henry other than henry wotton they should unite and we can kick them in the balls collectively) but also i accidentally spoiled the ending for myself through edmund's wikipedia page and now i don't really want to read it because like,,,, i mean,,,, i mean it's good but like they're cousins and they got married and like
idk man
but like its good and im excited to start northanger abbey afterwards because the main character is supposed to be obsessed with gothic lit and im like
oh thats me :D yes
so yes ajdnskbfve
i have a copy of circe that my former teacher gave me and i’ve been putting off reading for some reason but no longer. also hAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY MAN HOLY SHIT also KELSJDKSJD THE ATS SO COOL ALSKRKSJDKSJDJSJ!!!!!!!
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crunkybrewstr · 5 months
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The difference
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After Gunther's promo on the Miz I realized what's going on here.
Miz represents old WWE in a sense (at least a smidge of Attitude Era style Promo Super Star Wrestler... your Hogans and WCW Flairs era in a sense). Gunther represents the new school of wrestling... the Indie-riffic, Slap-tastic, Flip-Floppest, "SPORT" of Japanese-Wrestling-Influenced, Indie Wrestling. It is where he comes from. I've seen his Indie stuff before. When he was a pudgey mean guy who slapped people around really hard. And the neckbeards in the crowd gushed and awed audibly. Now he's just a slimmed down ugly Euro-heel gimmick (which is truly the irony of this whole thing to me. You're still a WWE-produced Gimmick buddy). But that's why he kept saying "Sport" and calling Miz "Entertainment". This is what I think they're aiming for with this feud. An Us vs Them scenario of Sports Entertainment vs Athletic Sports Emulation (which is what I refer to Indie Wrestlers).
I come from an older Generation of Wrestling Watchers. which stems more from the territory days of wrestling, and early WWF. But I became an adult during the Attitude Era/WCW Nitro/ECW era of wrestling.
Younger wrestling fans piss on that era of wrestling funny enough (unless it's shitty ass CZW backyard Necrobutcher bullshit of course). I shouldn't say it's all Indie.. I should be saying it's RoH-inspired, Athletic Sports Emulation. Because to be fair they are the ones who started this shit (same fucking company Jim Cornette managed mind you).
Anyways none of this matters. Just my thoughts on what it's about.
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wisdomshoes · 8 months
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alright, I read it... I don't really understand your take on Elden Ring, if it's just dark souls 3 but worse than it's still a good game also, why does it being overrated make it worse? one of them being music is really funny to me just because I've never met anyone who doesn't like music. all around you have pretty good taste 👍
have a great day :]
i KNOW, I'm so perfect in every aspect yet no one ever compliments me. i mean they do but i shrug it off with a joke or a bit and entirely forget about it. (anyways here comes a thorough explanation on why i fucking hate elden ring) (oh god i am so sorry if you're gonna read all of this) (to prefix this i wanna say you're wonderful and i hold no ill will towards you and i don't want you to feel bad about liking elden ring or fromsoft. i love you. personally. this is not parasocial)
also elden ring is shit. it being overrated is a problem because fromsoft might just get the idea to make more games unbalanced but also make them completely without challenge by adding super op items. then again fromsoft rarely ever listens to fans. they just do what the hell they wanna even if it's shit. part of the reason why i love and hate them. end game pve unbalanced as shit. having spent 60 points on vigor should stop me from dying in two hits. enemies have so much HP it's just not rewarding in any way to fight the lot of them. unless ofc you force yourself to use stupidly op starts and items. so you lose either way unless you ride past them. dungeons are unmemorable except a few actually interesting ones. the world is rather empty and besides blowing a massive hole in the ground and burning down a tree is not really affected by anything you do. all the open world is is spectacle. just a lot of sepctacle with very little gameplay. they made multiplayer unfun. not only invading. duels (rip) and arena are just a shitfest of people only using the most overpowered bullshit and when they're not, they're using fucking magic. which if you play your cards right makes you pretty much immortal. i only found one way to counter semi decent mages. it's being a mage. only time I had fun was this one time in like level 100 arena where this guy changed his entire set to mine including weapons and kicked my ass. besides that only fun in pvp is low level. mages aren't bullshit yet, people don't use the fucking rot (mostly), people are just having fun. actually not pvp, just arena, cause when you invade low level it's always going to be a gank of one regular character and two ng+7 assholes baiting invaders. but that's just part of fromsoft pvp i suppose. the 60 euro experience ladies and gentlemen. instead of balancing it, make it so unfun for one side people will just stop playing it! what else.. they added horses but no horse combat. way to go from. status effects are just taken too far. curse is still useless though except for cheaters. status effects apply through rolls and you can easily make an instaproc build. im not sure if that happened in their previous games. all of the enemies you fight are going to or have been reused. can't have sex with the fingers. 0/10 would probably play it for another 300 hours. I'm not proofreading any of that.
but the mods are great. im not buying the dlc though. it's just going to be more of the same. i mean maybe they could improve it to dark souls 3 standards but if i wanted that I'd just replay dark souls 3. im far too busy replaying Sekiro for the 50th time though aka THEIR BEST GAME BY FAR.
also ive met several people who "don't like" or "don't listen to" music. fucking lunatics, i didn't keep contact with them. also i don't just like music, I'd be dead without music. im beyond obsessed. that's why i felt the need to add it y'know. anyways love you.
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c03xistentw01 · 1 year
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my fav kind of love? giving reassurance. cuz this world is crazy uncertain.
when i told F. about the ups and downs of my friendship with S. she stroke me with a " i think this is all a big misunderstanding between the two of u. like u wanna hang out with her she wants the same".
the way i used to see this thing as a kid was that i have this dream there is a path to it, i used to see this path as an empty dusty path that i have to walk through. but now the same path is paved with "mental health sTuFf" I'm always worried what if somewhere along this path i just lose it irreversibly and won't be able to regain it back u know? shit scares me to death. This also resonated big time with H. today. Call me pretentious but i think the way I've learned to give her time to finish her sentence when talking when i know what she's probably gonna say, instead of jumping in between her talking and finishing her sentences for her and then her hitting me with a "exactly" and a head nodding i do believe is lowkey my love language.
today N. was like so u go centro also? (the same way that he wanted to go). he said it in a way as if he wanted us to walk together and i know exactly that this is a thing that friends do. I think we are friends now. finally. and also some other day him sharing with me his situation with the girl who has asked for 1000 euros from him...these little things people choose to share with me mean so much to me. Or also even how Eva did it that day at the dining table.
life be wild as shit man you see your roommate walking with her boyfriend in the street seeing u and ignoring ur waving at them and you be like i hope u get hit by a fooking train (idc how u can get trains in centro but anyway) and then come home and start the most heartwarming conversation with her about how good straight her looks on her. is this normal
i've said this before imma say it again: the things we do for survival man...all those things we find ourselves doing simply because we need to survive. mentally or socially.
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