Nienna Weeps

The leader

The cool one

The strong one

The smart one

The girl

And was like

“We’re doing this, but they’re ALL girls. Also the one whose personality is The Girl is also the main character. Die mad.”

If a woman wants to get an abortion because she is financially unable to give birth to and raise a baby, the organization will pay for everything she needs during the pregnancy and after, until she’s financially stable to raise the baby on her own.

This organization won’t stop women from going to the abortion clinic, but would rather hve a healthy conversation with them. Ask them if they can help her with anything in order for them to keep the baby. They also hand out contraception in the streets for those who can’t afford it.

First off, Nana almost certainly had her kids helping out with meals on the regular. A person needs to eat, and I cannot imagine that fine woman would ever allow one of her kids to head out into the world unprepared to meet their own basic needs. As far as I’m concerned, Hardison left her house with a favourite family cookbook, a half-dozen dishes he could make in his sleep, and the ability to follow a recipe and produce perfectly acceptable results.

Second, this is the guy who learned how to convincingly forge an artifact in a weekend. Who took up molecular gastronomy for the fun of it (and OK, more than a little to bug Eliot — but that was part of what made it fun!) in the middle of a con. If the man can do that, he can certainly throw together a casserole in a pinch.

The issue isn’t that Hardison can’t make perfectly normal, edible food — it’s that he doesn’t want to.

For one thing, normal food is boring. He has no interest in making it. He’s a very rich, very busy man! If he wants basic sustenance, why go to all that effort when he can order something delivered (efficient and tasty!) or heat up a hot pocket (fast and effective!). If Hardison’s going to put the effort in, it’s going to be for something interesting and complicated, ideally involving lasers.

For another, Hardison? Has terrible taste in food. It’s a joke that he makes awful, undrinkable beer, and then wine. But if you listen to him describe what he was going for, it’s clear that he’s achieved his goal. It’s just that his goal is completely unpalatable to most people. Nobody else wants wine that’s as sweet as his orange soda. Which means nobody makes it. Which means he has to do it himself. And so he does.

It’s not that Hardison is a bad cook. It’s that he’s a technically proficient cook who only wants to make terrible, terrible things that no one else would ever enjoy. Bonus points if it involves gadgets in some way.

Hardison knows how to do a lot of Life Skills stuff from living at Nana's. He's at least adequate at basic cooking, laundry, sewing/mending, car and home maintenance, and so on. He just usually can't be assed - it's usually more convenient to use money to solve these problems. For everyday stuff, he'd rather pay for premade food or for a laundry service. He will, however, make the effort for stuff that he feels is worth it. So he'll makes himself food or alcohol that meets his specific desires that nobody else will touch, or fix a button on his favorite pants.

This post is nearly ten years old and I still think about this, honestly. Luke has no consciousness of the dangers and pressures in Leia’s life when he’s playing with his toy starship; she’s already had to become what he can only vaguely dream of. But she’s also never had to consider “where is tomorrow’s food and water coming from” to anything like the degree that Luke, Owen, and Beru do every day. Luke and Leia both make sure they’re armed when they leave home because their environments are so dangerous, in completely different ways.

like, oftentimes he shies away from writing big dramatic emotion and tends to pull back instead, but you don’t get the sense that the character isn’t allowed to feel it, but rather that the narrative voice is, idk, giving them privacy

Neither me or the other mods know a single thing about Sailor Moon. If another anti wants to take this question go ahead.

For an interesting analysis on the anime ages, I’d like to direct you to this: http://www.moonprincess.com/amiages.php As it’s about the most coherent timeline as it stands for the anime. You can apply it roughly to the manga, but obviously a one size doesn’t fit all.

From the Article

“ The year you enter school, and thus your age for any given school year, is determined by your age as of March 31 of the following year. We know that Mamoru’s birthday is August 3 and that he’s a second-year high school student, so he must be 16 at the start of the manga and turning 17. For a list of school years and ages, see Age by Academic Year “

Nothing predatory about that since it would be like a freshman dating a junior in high school …. (Altho Japanese school system is a little different than American) 

Also from the article..

“ A two year age difference is pretty minor anyway, and since they’re both minors, it’s no big issue.

About this time travel.

90’s Anime When they went to the 30th century she was 14.

When they come back she was still 14.

In S ,she turned 15 since its a because of the two part birthday episode.

Between SuperS and Stars she turned 16 since she’s about to enter High School.

Manga and Crystal

She’s already 15 while Mamo just recently turned 17 when they go to the 30th century.

When they come back they are still that age.

At the beginning of Dream she’s 16 and he’s 18 since she’s going to high school and he’s entering college.

So this time travel nonsense doesn’t make any sense.

She wasn’t even in the 30th century long enough for it to effect her or anyone else.

This is not Dr Who or any time travel shows where it’s a time influx. Where time goes quicker than in present time if they are on another planet.

It was a catalyst for Tenya and effects of it still linger in the story, so it was a pretty important point, but why did it happen? We know that Stain only kills ‘bad’ heroes who are in it for the money or some other petty reason, which is why he spared Izuku but went after Tenya. But from what we’ve seen of him Tensei was a pretty good hero and an all around good guy and brother. Not really the type Stain targets. And sure he has that one-off line about popularity being part of it, but he also clearly wants to help people.

A possibility is that Stain tests heroes in some way, to see what they’re made of, and Tensei failed, or maybe he just operates under the idea that all heroes are corrupt unless they prove otherwise; guilty until proven innocent. The latter seems more likely. But chapter 203 hinted at the character of Tensei, with Tenya talking about how he’s representing Ingenium’s good name, which we all know is the hero name he inherited from his older brother.

But that just brings me back to my first point, that Tensei seems like a decent guy, not the type to hide and commit morally questionable actions, certainly not as a hero. From what we’ve seen of him, he expresses good character.

And then I remember that at this point in the manga (I haven’t read Vigilantes or seen the anime) we have only seen Tensei in two perspectives: his injured state after the fight with Stain and, for the majority of his appearances, in the memories and flashbacks of Tenya, his adoring little brother. In other words, a partial witness.

We don’t know Tensei’s character outside of how Tenya sees him (again, haven’t seen the anime or read Vigilantes), which could mean he’s a very different person outside of his appearances.

So the Iidas have canonically been heroes for several generations. The "ingenium" name has been passed down to several people. And we know that they've done well by this. The Iida family have benefited tremendously by being heroes, in terms of fame and fortune and prestige.

I always remember the one year when one of the lads from 6b, Graham, was put into our class, because his own teacher couldn’t control him anymore. Graham hated being in our class, with all the “posh kids” and he hated it even more that he had to sit on the edge of Mr Grey’s desk. After a few days of refusing to read from the book he was supposed to, Mr Grey brought him another book to read. It was a child’s book intended for ages 5 years and upwards, with lots of pictures and easy words. Where the other teacher had just surmised that Graham was a lost cause and didn’t want to learn, Mr Grey had realized that he couldn’t actually read very well, and spent the next two years helping him.

He made him a part of our advanced class, getting him to write on the board and type out our lesson plans on the one class computer in the corner. He’d sit with him in quiet moments when we were all writing, and you’d hear him quietly sounding out the words with Graham, smiling and nodding whenever he managed something complicated by himself, and smiling and nodding when he couldn’t because asking for help was better than throwing a wobbler.

By the end of the first year we had to stand up and do a presentation in front of the whole class and talk about a book we really liked. Some did it on Shakespeare, others did it on Hemingway—we were the advanced lit class and were supposed to be reading and writing at a university level, so there was a lot of books that we might not have actually liked on the list, but knew we had to study regardless. I did mine on Pratchett, surprise surprise. Graham didn’t have to do a talk, but he sat listening intently. I still remember walking past his seat and the way he turned to me and said “that was puir good like” and I said “thanks” and smiled. It was as good as getting an A, praise from the trouble maker boy who every other teacher had given up on.

The following year we all had to do another presentation, this time without the aid of notes. I did another Pratchett book, drawing parallels from Shakespeare and highlighting the need for genre fiction to be taken seriously, to which Mr Grey agreed, applauded and eventually gave me an A+. And just when we thought it was all over, Graham stood up and the whole class went silent. He had an a4 piece of paper in his hands which shook, and he was staring at it like it was his lifeline. He looked up at Mr Grey and said “I can’t…” to which Mr Grey said “You can” and there was more silence. And then Graham began to read.

“The book that I read was also by Terry, and it’s called Truckers, and it’s from the much larger Bromeliad trilogy which I haven’t finished yet but so far is dead good. It’s about these little tiny people right…”

And he stood there for about ten minutes, talking about what the book was about, why he liked it, and even going into what he had read so far in the next book, Diggers, and what he liked about that too. When Graham finally stopped and looked up, giving us all a little nod as if to say “thanks for not laughing” the whole class went wild with clapping and shouting. And Mr Grey was beaming with pride, clapping harder than anyone.

“Replicated food is not as good as real food.”

In a blind taste test, nobody, but nobody, can tell the actual difference between replicated food and “real” food. (Think back to our youth and the New Coke vs. Pepsi taste tests, only worse.) BUT, humans being What We Are, the human Starfleet members insist that “real” food is better than replicated food for reasons including, but certainly not limited to:

1. Hipsters have survived even into the 24th century. “No, you just can’t make good curry from a replicator! You gotta toast the spices yourself right before you cook it or it’s not the same, maaaaaan”

2. All military and para-military members everywhere always grouse and bitch about the food and sigh over What We Get Back Home. It could literally be the same replicator recipe you use at home when someone has to work late or just doesn’t feel like making the effort to cook, but people are people everywhere so they’re going to complain about it.

3. Humans tend to think we’re smarter than we actually are and we can totally tell when something is going on; as a result, human crew members insist they can “taste the difference” because their minds are making shit up, as our brains do.

4. One could presume that, generally speaking, a replicator recipe programmed into a starship or base replicator database would come out the same every time. This is perhaps the 24th century equivalent of mass catering. (I won’t try to account for the nuances of replicator tech that might allow for variances, and leave aside for the moment the fact that some people probably tinker with the standard “recipes” to suit their own taste.) The single thing that would be different in this case about “real” food is the variation, since of course the “real” dish will have slight variances every time due to the whims of the cook, the oven temperature fluctuation, freshness of ingredients, etc.. And since we are an easily bored species who really, really hates boredom, I bet people would jump all over that to lament the lack of “real” food when they’re out exploring strange new worlds and new civilizations and whatnot. (This is the only reason I can think of that might hold up to scrutiny.)

The replicator or replicator + holodeck combo can’t recreate the experience of cooking, nor can it recreate the experience of being cooked for. And that experience makes food taste better. 

Cooking is what makes us human. No other species on this wet rock cooks its food–only us. 

First: if you’re making lamb stew, or phở, or mole, or curry goat, you spend hours puttering around the house doing chores in a cozy sweater, periodically petting the cats and playing with the kids, waiting an anticipating the hour in which you get to eat the soup. All the while: your house smells like lamb stew, or phở, or mole, or curry goat. 

You get a tamale from the replicator: it’s pretty good. You wish it came with a green olive with the pit still in like the kind your abuela puts in her tamales. 

You get a tamale from the tamale lady on the way to work on a clear, crisp fall morning. It’s so hot from her steamer that it nearly burns your fingerprints off and it smells divine; you use all of your Spanish to tell her how good it is and how grateful you are that you pass her every day. On a whim, you buy 30 more tamales to share with the office; they’re still warm at lunch and they taste like friendship. 

You get a tamale from your abuela. It’s Christmas Eve, your entire family has spent the last seven hours making them, your tio Juan just busted out his tuba and it is definitely too hot outside for the fake snow  your baby cousins have started throwing at each other in between begging to open just one present and if you don’t hurry up you’re all going to be late for mass. 

The tamale tastes like home. 

You get a tamale from the replicator. Its neural network reviewed your order against every known tamale recipe and variety and decided that your addition of “green olive, pickled, pit in” was a mistake, and omitted it. 

Your tamale tastes like homesickness. You ball-up the corn husk and 

Second: The replicator is probably not accounting for regional variations in ingredients for its base foods. 

The ingredient library may have jalapeno, red; jalapeno, green, jalapeno, (color slider), (heat slider). It probably does not have: jalapeno, Hatch new mexico, USA, earth, sol system; or jalapeno north face Olympus Mons Mars, sol system. Replicator Parmesan is very likely a scan of a Parmesan and doesn’t duplicate regional variations between, say, a Parmesan from Mantua vs a Parmesan from Parma. 

Did your grandmother use san marzano tomatoes that were actually grown in san marzano in her red sauce (, canned, peeled, whole in juice)? Sucks to be you, the replicator scanned a hydroponically grown plum-type tomato which environment was carefully controlled for optimal nutritional value and “pretty good” taste. 

Is the replicator cilantro a kind bred or genetically engineered for maximum palatability across the broadest spectrum of individuals? Is it missing the gene that makes some people taste soap when they eat it? Is that gene the one that makes it taste good to you, so that the replicator chimichurri is always missing something, some particular specific type of freshness, a unique vegetal taste that you can’t put your finger on, and it’s not important enough to track down when you just like the chimichurri you make at home, from cilantro your grew yourself, much better? 

Third: The recipe database is probably sourced from hundreds of thousands of recipes written over centuries’ time – and then averaged using a combination of median and modal averaging to come up with something that’s Pretty OK to most people, but which is going to leave others wanting–no matter how much they tweak it. 

And then you have many, many people in a state of, “yes but I like my/mom’s/spouse’s/grandparent’s/aunt’s/uncle’s/best friends better”. And that’s OK.

I mean, really. Think about this for a minute.

Fourth:

You go to get a cup of tea from the replicator, because everything is terrible. You know in the darkest depths of your soul that everything will still be terrible with a good cuppa in your hands, but it will be terrible and you’ll have tea, which is a marked improvement. 

The replicator gives you a glass of brewed, iced sweet tea. 

It takes you three more tries to get a cup of hot earl grey. You decide you’ve finished pressing your luck with this positively infernal machine today and don’t even bother asking for a lemon wedge. 

And that really makes you ache for something made just the way you like it, doesn’t it?

A replicator meal is always that meal.

That one last EXACT meal.

Every day, the same meal.

You ever go to a resturant and order the same dish two times in a row, and notice the differences? That the fish in the sushi had a slightly different flavor, or the baking of the ribs was just that little bit different. Even when you’re going to a chain fast food place, there’s always a little difference between each one, the fries were cooked a bit more this time, or salted a bit more. The soda mix is slightly different.

But the Replicator always makes the EXACT. SAME. THING. Your tamale tomorrow will be the exact SAME tamale as you got today. Same seasonings. Same temperature. Same length even!

you'll say "i think children shouldn't be forced to eat food they hate" and here comes someone who feeds their kids plain rice and boiled chicken (while eating a nicely seasoned stirfry) claiming that it's okay actually and kids shouldn't be allowed to taste things

Like, the “cool, angry, top-of-his-game rival character who hates the protagonist” is dime-a-dozen in shonen series. That’s who Bakugou is. And its real common to toss a set of rose-tinted glasses on every other character so they all see Rival Guy as cool and amazing and admirable. That way the protagonist has to work extra hard to beat his rival AND prove himself to everyone else, who all just blindly adore Rival Guy.

And BNHA…doesn’t do that. BNHA lets everyone understand that Bakugou is an asshole. He’s strong. He’s talented. He’s a force of nature. The other kids know this, but theyre not blinded by it. They understand he’s unfairly cruel to Deku. They know his ego is a problem. They’re not scared of him or dazzled by him. They take notice when he’s being a problem. They call him out. They tease him.

There’s the bus scene in early season 1 where Deku’s cowering in shock because Good god, these kids have the nerve to mock Bakugou. Because the kids in Deku and Bakugou’s old school were a lot more like the typical shonen characters. They let Bakugou get away with his awfulness because he was Bakugou. The UA kids are a different cut though. They don’t care Bakugou was #1 in the exam. They don’t care that he’s Bakugou.

And heck, half of Bakugo’s character arcs involve him hopping from one angry existential crisis to another, because he’s not always the best, because he can’t win everyone over to his side with confidence, because he can’t accomplish every single thing his inflated ego says he should be accomplishing. The audience witnesses him meet resistance and hardship and consequence for being an egotistical, hot-headed bully. He faces real-world honest consequences for being that kind of terrible person.

Bakugo hasn’t had one definite character-redeeming moment–no “oh you talked sense into me and now im Good™ “. But as the manga goes on, he’s become less volatile, less cocky, less eager to harass Deku. He still is an asshole, but he’s changed. I have a lot of respect for how it’s been handled. Slowly, progressively. His ego has been chiseled down by personal failures, by witnessing how his cocky confidence does harm to himself and others. 

I love that BNHA doesn’t let the cool, powerful, rival character just have his way. I love that BNHA doesnt just whack Bakugo with a single character-redemption arc and pull him through the other side. I love that BNHA shows us what things are whittling down Bakugo, that they take a metaphorical spray bottle to him again and again, pushing him into something less cruel than he was.

Bakugou is a big fish in a small pond in his middle school/hometown area. He is sincerely strong and talented, but he's so OP compared to all of his agemates that he doesn't have anyone to challenge his worldview.

Metric is good for science. It's exact, specific, and the whole thing moves by scale of 10s. Useful for science and technology, but not always the best way for your average person on the street to understand. Like, you know in your head what 5 mm of rain is, but you don't know in your gut.