#want era....no words needed

[sergle]

my god I try not to talk abt it here, because yall follow me for the Good Stuff and not the Negative Stuff, but eating disorder geared social media is coming back in a MAJOR WAY and I feel like I see wayyyy more stuff that's like, harkening back to thinspo / pro-ana tumblr, But Worse, and everywhere, and it is very concerning

[miusato]

Honestly the main attraction for Shinjiham is how contrast their personality is and it is always funny for me to think about how people around them would react if they found out they're dating in this AU lol

[lunarharp]

"Found out" set in kind of a made-up chapter where the girls are in trouble, or something.

[toomuchracket]

if i say d word will you all get angry at me

[thegreatimpersonator]

i'm having feelings about the way mental health has been discussed in this album and tbh none of them are good... as someone who was drawn to taylor's lyricism when i first started listening to her i'm only enjoying this album because i like the music production lol i'm straight up ignoring so many lyrics. not that there aren't any good ones it's just that so many of them are making me feel icky. idk i know it's meant to be raw or whatever but so many lyrics sound so unkind when it comes to dealing with mental health issues specifically. what do you think about it, especially since you're majoring in psychology?

This is such an interesting point, because I've been having several thoughts about the way mental health is being discussed in the fandom rn. Right from swifties giggling at the that one interview where she says "I don't need therapy. I'm sane." (as if therapy is only for someone "insane", whatever that is) and joking about the psych ward, taking the asylum and functional alcoholic lyrics in light and lowkey making fun of someone's addiction is just....disgusting? I think taylor tried to be earnest in her portrayal of her struggles but it's getting lost in translation for me, because some of the lyrics seemed to not only imply that her partner's struggles with depression or addiction were a reason for the relationship to fall apart (which is fine, that happens and is an extremely difficult process for both partners) but also point out how it's their fault for not being able to get over those struggles? I keep reiterating that I still haven't played the album in its entirety so it's possible I'm missing a few facts, but there is a very fine line between expressing your mental health issues through art in a way that is cathartic and important to the artist + inspiring to their audience and cherry picking imagery that you find the most "aesthetic" for your art with little concern over how those who actually experience these issues may perceive it + its actual public reception

[chocosvt]

thinking of honey boy compared to her makes me laff 😭 i can't reread honey boy anymore bc at the time i had already proofread it enough to act it out on stage lmao, but sometimes i trace scenes back just to see if i can still enjoy it. which i do!!!

but in terms of my writing, honey boy is like a little toy block while her is this massive play structure 🥹 but i think that just comes from the differences in plot. honey boy is not rly supposed to be a super deep narrative, it's more romancey and fun and flirty and sometimes it gets a little messy but it's easy mess. so i think it's more digestable!

but her is not like that. it's just too nuanced. the characters are soo layered in comparison. and it's depressing 😭 you rly have to work to reach the payoff/catharsis and to me, that's what hits the nail on the head. like i absolutely need the suffering, the angst, the turmoil, the tension, the horrible fallout, the bitter acceptance, having to live with your choice, and the slow rekindling. and by that point you're so freaking desperate u could cry 😍 those b1tches touched hands! win.

IDK. is this a confession that i like being emotionally edged? 😭 ejriwuhfgeurghwg honey boy is my blog's magnum opus and i understand why :3 but it's like.. damn... her is not the same. i think if i were a reader/outsider to my work, honey boy is effortless to revisit. but i would have to be in a certain mood to engage with her just bc of the emotional baggage 🤔 or pushed to the edge of having a breakdown and this story is my safety cushion wuefhwiquf

[monsterbisexual]

the silt verses: chapter 34

chapter 38

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[garlicbreadfanatic]

*the library being peaceful and quiet*

Remus: *letting out a string of curses because he messed up some of his work*

The other students: ...?

[mirrortouchedsea]

⬛⬛⬛ was seven years old when his mother died. He remembers being sad, mourning her sudden loss in the way children process death. He stayed by her bedside as she took her last breath, holding her hand and crying, begging her to stay. She loved him. She had spent her last moments making sure he knew that he wasn’t alone and never would be, as long as he could keep her in his memory. 

He remembers crying out as her casket was closed for the final time, lowered into the ground. Something snapped in him and he was begging her to stay again, begging them to not take her away. 

⬛⬛⬛ didn’t come out of his room for weeks afterwards. He sat in his room, cradling a photo of his mother in his hands. His father would leave food for him and he would eat it, never taking his eyes off the photo. 

So when his father came home after only two months of his mother being dead, ⬛⬛⬛ was not what one would call happy. Even though he’d started going back to school a few weeks ago, he wasn’t ready for someone else to take her place. Nobody else could ever be his mother. 

He got into an argument with his father that night. At seven years old, ⬛⬛⬛ decided that he couldn’t bear to live in a house with a man who could so easily replace the woman he claimed to love. He didn’t know where he was going but he took the clothes on his back, the photo of his mother, and some cash he’d been saving up and just walked out. 

He made his way to the bus stop and got on, thinking about where he would even go. He wasn’t sure he could make his way to his mother’s family on his own, as they lived on the other side of the country, and he definitely didn’t want to see his father’s family. So he stayed on the bus as long as the driver would let him stay. 

Eventually though, he did have to get off. It was sprinkling out, not enough to make him uncomfortable, but it was a sign of heavier rains to come. ⬛⬛⬛ made his way from the bus stop to a restaurant that looked like it was about to close, but still had the lights on and maybe they could give him some shelter from the rain, at least for a while. He stepped inside and stared at the workers cleaning up the dining room. They looked…concerned that a child his age was alone at night, especially in this part of town, one would say.

They asked him what he was doing out, if he lost his parents, if he was from the area. It’s not safe out here for kids like you, they told him. He doesn’t remember responding, but he must have because they shuffled him to the back of the restaurant to their boss and asked what to do with him. None of them could really afford to take a child in but he hadn’t told him where he was from or where his parents were. They suggested calling the police, but ⬛⬛⬛ started crying at the suggestion, not wanting to get them involved. I can’t go home, he told them, my father is a bad person.

The restaurant manager agreed to allow him to stay for a bit, giving him a meal on the grounds that he’d leave by the end of the week. ⬛⬛⬛ agreed, scarfing down the food like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. 

Over the next few days, ⬛⬛⬛ bid his time by doing dishes, greeting customers, learning to read from the menu. The staff treated him kindly, but they felt distant, unsure of what to do with him, though by the time the weekend came, he hadn’t figured out where he wanted to go. A few of the staff pointed him towards an orphanage in town, but one of the cooks slipped him a one way train ticket to a few cities over, somewhere he could get out of that area, a note attached with directions on where to go to meet someone who would take him in. 

He held the ticket in his hand, scanning it as he walked through the station to the loading area, the note clutched in his hand. ⬛⬛⬛ was practically shaking as he entered the train by himself. A few adults asked if he was okay, if he knew where he was going. Yes, he said, I’m just not used to traveling by myself, but my uncle is going to meet me at my stop. That was a lie he’d rehearsed on the way there but they let him be. He had to fight himself to keep from falling asleep and missing his stop, but he must have succumbed to it at some point, as one of the adults next to him gently shook him awake as they approached his destination. He thanked them and hopped off his seat, getting ready to depart the train car and start his new life. 

He stepped onto the platform and was greeted by a bustling crowd. It was overwhelming to say the least, so many strange people just going about their day. ⬛⬛⬛ made his way to the staircase where someone came up from behind him, introduced himself as the person who would be taking care of the young boy. He could call him “Priest”, as his true name was of little importance. He asked if the young boy had a name, which the boy muttered under his breath. When asked to repeat it, he said he wished to give up his name, as he no longer wanted to be associated with the person who gave it to him. The Priest agreed with him and said they’d find a suitable name for him soon enough. There were many names in the world, but for now he’d be referred to as the Prodigal Son, or simply the Son for short. The Son found this amicable and agreed to the change. He remembers wondering what that meant, as he had never heard of the word “Prodigal” before, but he would come to understand it in due time. 

The Priest taught the Son many things, reading, writing, the history of Japan, things that he remembered being taught in school before his mother passed, but he also taught the Son many other things one would never find in a normal school. The Son learned the art of disguise, impersonation, how to manipulate his voice. Some day, the Priest had told him, he’d be called upon to use his gifts for the greater good. The Son, not knowing any better, accepted this and that his skills would be useful in the future. 

The Son went through many identities in his time studying under the Priest. His hair had been cut, extended, dyed and bleached, his eyes were a dozen different colors and none of them. He could mimic any voice after observing the speaker for ten minutes. He went by many different names, though he always came back to the Son. In due time, he forgot his father entirely, but he carried the last photo of his mother with him in his pocket wherever he went. It made him feel at ease, as if she were watching over him from the afterlife still, protecting him from the harsh realities of the world. The photo had faded with time, the wear and tear on it having almost removed her face entirely, but the Son could still picture it perfectly. It had been burned into his mind on the day he watched her take her last breath.

The Son started University at age 17, younger than many of his peers in Japan, and he graduated at age 20. It hadn’t been easy, but he had honed his skills and developed them on the stage, playing off his talents as being simply that, talent and skill, not something he had used to bring about political upheaval in the past and likely in the future. 

The Son had kept his distance at University though, going by another fake name and only attending the bare minimum of classes and extracurriculars that were required of him by the Priest. He had begun proper vocal training to learn how to sing, something that he had been told would be useful soon, though he had not been given the details, and further developed his voice by participating in several musical performances, though he still remained rather distant from the rest of the cast and crew, exchanging only the bare necessities of pleasantries and making excuses to get out of bonding time outside of scheduled practice hours. 

The Son was a lonely man, and he knew this. He knows this. He is a lonely man. He was about to turn 23 when the Priest finally told him about his newest mission. Do you remember your father, the Priest had asked over the phone. No, replied the Son, not more than I need to, anyway. So you remember you had a father, and he had another wife after you left, the Priest continued. The Son hummed in agreement, Yes I ran away because of her, you know this. Of course I do, but I just wanted to make sure, Anyway did you know he had another son with her? What do you mean by another son? I mean that you are an older brother, and your younger brother needs help. I do not want to speak to anyone else related to that man. Oh but you’ve been training to help your brother, haven’t you, he dreams of being an idol, someone who sings and dances on stage like you. Theater performances and being an idol are two different things. Yes, well it wouldn’t exactly be easy to get you to train to be an idol with no intentions on debuting, so we had to make do. Why should I help him? Out of the love in your heart for your own flesh and blood. I do not consider that old man my father, nor that boy my brother. He has a secret he needs to keep, something I’m sure you’re familiar with of course. What secret? All in due time, Son, will you help him or not? 

The Son refused to meet his brother in person for the first few months, preferring to instead communicate only by phone. He had been studying at Reimei academy, he told him, as part of the idol course. His mother loved idols, loved them so very much and it was the only memory he had of her. The Son understood his brother on that level. During their phone calls, the Son learned about his brother’s rival at the school, a boy by the name of Tatsumi Kazehaya who happened to be in the year above him. Tatsumi Kazehaya was perfect in many ways, something that his brother found infuriating. Why couldn’t he be like that? He lamented in one phone call. The Son told him that some people are simply born with talent, and Kazehaya was one of them. His brother relented and continued to update the Son on his progress. 

Despite the Son knowing his brother’s name, Kaname Tojou, his brother did not know his, instead choosing to refer to him only as “Onii-chan,” a word that grated on his ears. He was not a cute older brother to be looked up to and in fact he’d rather be doing anything else than be there, and yet. He stayed calm. Once Kaname debuted and got on his feet, the Son would fade back into the background as if he never existed. That was the plan, anyway. The Priest had told him that he would be free to do as he pleased away from his watchful eye if everything went according to plan. 

After a year of guiding his brother in the ways of being an idol, the Son wanted to see how he was progressing. Kaname hadn’t said anything about a performance, but since the Son was very good at keeping an ear to the ground, he had found out about a performance between Kaname and Tatsumi to be put on for the entire school. He wasn’t entirely sure what the purpose of that was exactly, but it would be a good time to gauge Kaname’s progress and how well he had followed the Son’s instructions. The Son made his way through the crowd, finding a spot near the front but not where Kaname could see him and he watched the empty stage, waiting for any sign of life.

The projectors came on and a video began playing, a video about the exact secret that the Son had been safeguarding even from his brother. It was a video about Kaname’s mother and how she had ruined the career of one of the best idols that had ever existed in Japan. The energy in the crowd was agitated, vibrating with anger as they waited for the two aspiring idols to take the stage. The Son wanted to run backstage, warn his brother of the impending danger, but could only watch in horror as the curtains raised and the crowd rushed forward. The Son looked on as the two young idols were yanked from the stage, a scream lost to the noise of the crowd, unable to do anything. 

When it was over, he had found himself in the hospital waiting room, pacing the length of it as he went over the potential outcome of the surgery. His brother had suffered greatly, that much was obvious to the Son as they loaded the two boys into the ambulance, but how much damage was done had yet to be seen. 

Someone approached the Prodigal Son while he was pacing and placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Thank you for coming home. 

[welcometogrouchland]

Also in the replies of the Steph concept art on twitter announcing she was gonna be in a new project at DC (posted by Travis Mercer), there were at least 3 comments saying "will Tim be there?" I don't care how hard you ship timsteph I'm exploding you with my eyeballs if you do that on my girls post again

[vanibear]

skitters around like a beast. Hii ❤️ok im going 2 go ramble in the tags now👍

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

i am at the point where i am having serious thoughts about starting an only fans, or an nsfw blog bc that is where i am at in my life rn 🌚

[badgalazzie]

i wish i was comfortable enough as a sapphic in my friend’s group 😔 they know that i’m a sapphic (idk how they found out, guess i’m loud🌈) but all they talk about is men and sexually-oriented topics surrounding men so i’m just sitting silent. we are 5 female friends who 2 are bi, one is queer (demisexual i think?) and i’m a bi/sapphic/lord knows. and still all they talk about are men and d!ck. God, it’s so exhausting. i’m not even comfortable enough to talk about my feelings surrounding my sexual orientation and how i’m not feeling like dating men. i’m going abroad to uni this month and i know that if i’ll be seeing someone there it’s going to be a woman. they want to come visit me in a few months and guess we will see.

[randomnameless]

Localization discourse has cropped up again on Twitter, and someone posted a few before and after screenshots of an Echoes mod that retranslates the game to be more faithful to the original JP script, with that same person claiming that all the mod does is remove all the personality and charm 8-4 added to the dialogue; for reference, here's the lines they're referring to:

Lukas (EN): But just once, i should like to be red with rage, green with envy... Something!

Lukas (JP): But still, i've never been caught up enough to lose control of myself...

Clair (EN): Do i not deserve better than these trite gambits of yours?

Clair (JP): That kind of behavior is very hurtful towards the one it is directed at.

Clair (EN): If that crass phrase means you wish to speak with me, then please proceed.

Clair (JP): Oh, Dyute. What is it?

I can somewhat get why people could see the first change as just being a less interesting way of getting across Lukas' lines about struggling with not feeling enough emotions (though even then i'd argue that changing the lines from him being dejected and resigned at his emotional struggles to him being actively angry about them is a decently big change to his character and not just "oh they worded it in a more interesting way"), but i really don't get how people can argue that Clair's localized lines aren't blatantly rewriting her character; her criticism of Gray being changed from "your behavior hurts people and you should stop because of that" to "your behavior hurts me and you should stop because i'm your superior and deserve better than to be toyed with by the likes of you", along with her greeting to Delthea being changed from "oh hi, what's the matter?" to "if that gross phrase means you want to talk to me, then i suppose i can grant you the privilege of a conversation" doesn't make the dialogue any wittier, it's just making Clair into more of a spoiled brat than she was intended to be originally.

You ruined my day with this :(

(i know this is an old ask, but I forgot it in my drafts!)

I thought FE15's localisation was nice, but granted, I didn't have access to the JP script (nor JP audio!), but now I wonder if the schtick "nobles vs commoners" wasn't overplayed in the lolcalised version, which in turn, would kind of explain why some people felt cheated by Alm's reveal -

Even if I always took it as "being a noble has nothing to do with birth" didn't meant Tobin as a peasant could become a noble and have a noble heart, but meant that even if you are born a noble with super special powers or not, being a noble character only falls on you, and the actions you take : Alm rescues random women (FE15 for you!) around at the cost of his mission/safety/etc, when Berkut, who is noble-born just like Alm, hunts peasants and burns his fiancée.

8-4 adding more "Nobles BaD" feels in touch with what ultimately happened with Fodlan, even if while the FE series already tried to dip its toes in this water with Ike, his "nobles BaD" ultimately amounted to childish tantrum and refusal to deal with "complicated things" when you realise and learn what kind of people he's working with, and their responsabilities.

In a way, I can understand the people being annoyed that the mod removed the "additions" brought by 8-4 if they really made the characters more memorable - but my stance will always be to be able to choose if you want to put parmesan on your pasta or not.

8-4!Clair is a spoiled and snob brat - but can't we get the choice to get a Clair without parmesan?

You know what, I'm thinking FEH's decision (in 2017!) to, uh, not include dual audio was due to the supposed limitations of the app, but imo, was also amde with the dubbing/US!VA industry in mind because, imagine the players from FE14-FE15 having characters who, by tone alone, are different from the ones they're used to, what kind of message would that send to players? You've played the parmesan!version of those games?

And to be clear, I like my pasta carbonara with heavy cream because I'm french and cream is life.

And yet, IDK, maybe that's just me, but I think I'd feel a bit out of the loop if I was thrown in game that celebrates a franchise I never played, since the games I played were... heavily "localised" to catter to my tastes and overplayed issues that weren't there because I'd maybe like this theme more than what was initially presented.

Cultural differences are a thing, but Crayon Shin-Chan is meant to be watched, in japan, by children in primary school.

OD's Crayon Shin Chan is basically japanese!Family Guy.

We had the "same" heavily lolcalisation back in the days here, with French!City Hunter ("Nicky Larson") and French!Hokuto no Ken ("Ken le Survivant"), and while in the 80s-90s some people still harped that those were the "real deal", with time it became more and more widely accepted that Nicky Larson and Ken le Survivant were... products that were lolcalised to fit with the regulations of that time (no blood for children! no swear words - when the regular french person says "merde" at least 10 times per day) - but if you were to go and interview the authors of those mangas, they wouldn't have a clue about what you're talking about with your french "dessins animés".

(granted, I've heard that recently, during a convention, both the author of City Hunter and Hokuto no Ken were surprised but pleased that even if it was lolcalised to oblivion, their work was so appreciated here!)

With modern FE though, I feel like FEH has to pretend that Nicky Larson and Ryo Saeba from City Hunter are the same person - so they will put Ryo in a fridge and call Nicky Larson "Ryo Saeba".

I mean, that's what we got with Halloween!Rhage - who roars using her special, and yet winks in her artwork because the artwork was commissioned by the people who designed/came up with Rhea, not with Rhage - and here, with your examples, with Clair.

Clair is a young noble lady, who as you pointed out with those lines, is a well mannered noble who doesn't hurt nor is looking down on people from lower birth, eons away from the "oujou who only means well" trope we ended up with with 8-4.

At the end of the day, people are free to enjoy whatever they want, let it be 8-4!Clair of Jp!Clair - but I'll have the same opinion as I always did regarding localisation : was it really up to 8-4 to change her characterisation this way? Are they still localising or swapping Jp!Clair with a brand new character of their creation?

If so, can this still be called localisation?

[legendryhero]

like   for   ...   a   very  small  starter.