#ad franch

[leveloneandup]

x

[incorrectnwsl]

Emily Boscacci: If you as the goalkeeper are allowed to pick up the ball then why don't you just pick it up and run across the field to the other goal?

AD Franch: Babe...

[debinhas-bicycle]

idc if they ended up scoring that first block by Franch was INCREDIBLE

[uswntpoc]

kccurrent Milestone Alert 100 100 100 100

kccurrent Milestone Alert 💯💯💯💯

Congratulations @afranch23 on becoming the 5th goalkeeper to reach 400 career saves in the @nws!! 🧤

[hyperfixationsstation]

🙃 franch on bench again

[zemissinglinkus]

Well shit. AD Franch isn't playing today either and isn't on the injured list.

I hope they're just letting Cas Miller get some deserved play time but inquiring minds have to ask what's going on here.

[lorienn-art]

FR Heyyy J'ai l'impression que ça fait un petit moment depuis que j'ai fait une illustration — les vacances d'été sont presque finies et je pensais que j'aurais été plus productive que ça, pour être franche ça me rend un peu triste haha Mais je suis quand même contente d'avoir pu faire cette illu! La pose vient de l'illu originale d'Araki "Let's Dance!" pour l'artbook JOJO A-GO!GO! (2000). Je me suis bien amusée avec la gouache et les marqueurs acryliques et je n'ai pas pu résister à l'envie d'ajouter du washi tape sur les bordures jsjs Je voudrais également donner quelques nouvelles sur l'avancée du doujin/big ass comic : j'ai commencé à bosser sur le 2ème batch (qui sera deux fois plus gros que le 1er sauf si je le coupe) — à la base je voulais le finir avant mon retour en cours (la semaine prochaine) mais j'ai beaucoup de mal à me motiver donc je vais y aller à mon rythme. Je donne des nouvelles relativement r��gulièrement en story Insta donc n'hésitez pas à aller voir si besoin. Je suis désolée si certains d'entre vous sont déçus, je sais que j'ai posté le 1er batch il y a 6 mois déjà, mais soyez assurés que je fais de mon mieux pour donner vie à ce projet 💖 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

EN Heyyy I feel it's kinda been a while since I made a full illustration — summer break is almost over and I thought I would have been more productive than that, ngl it makes me a bit sad haha But I'm still happy I managed to do this piece! The pose is taken from Araki's original artwork "Let's Dance!" from the JOJO A-GO!GO! artbook (2000). I had some fun with gouache paint and acrylic markers and I couldn't resist adding some washi tape on the borders jsjs I also would like so give some news on the doujin/big ass comic: I've started working on the 2nd batch (which will be twice bigger than the 1st batch unless I cut it) — at first I wanted to finish it before the start of my classes (next week) but I've been really struggling getting myself motivated so I'll do it at my own pace. I give more news relatively regularly in my IG stories so feel free to check them out if you need it. I'm sorry if some of you are disappointed, I know I posted the 1st batch 6 months ago already, but rest assured that I'm doing my best to give this project life 💖

Reference:

[zadalamia]

hi this is french miku. annoying ass footballer primary schooler + serious traditional franche comté clothing

trad outfit details under the cut

ok so our region kinda sucks for interesting trad clothes especially comparing it to like nice and alsace (even our neighbouring savoie) but i tried to decorate anything that could be in theory.

first on the head, a coiffe, a kind of bonnet tied under the chin, which i made fancy by adding a lace pattern and small frilled edges. you'd have simpler ones for daily work

a caracot, sleeveless shirt ribbed like a corset, usually plain white and very tailored. opens at the front with small hooks(i emphasized them thats my bad). i added embroidery to the neckline as most people would

a pélèrine, crocheted semi-circular shawl (sometimes sewn from wool/silk). usually plain black but i made it blue. listen she has accessto cyan and magenta dyes we dont question it.

a large skirt, ankle-length. often colorful or decorated, especially with dots

a petticoat, often plain with a matching short apron, sometimes striped, to which i added lace edging. i like to imagine miku would own one for special occasions just like her coiffe

and a general detail: this costume is very much for the "peasantry", country-dwellers who farm and harvest every day, so miku would definitely be tanned and generally have a "farmer's complexion" on her face and arms.

not pictured, but mentioned on the page: girls miku's age would wear a charlotte, what's called a mobcap in english? idk look it up lol, but a. i forgor, and b. her hair's too big to fit in one anyway. maybe it's for lore reasons and she's independent, the oldest girl of the house, and wears a regular coiffe for status reasons

anyway thanx for reading this bit. im invested in my regions trad clothing especially since its very rare to find any info on it(and most ancient french things) anymore. https://alwati.com was super helpful for my research! theyre an association who specialize in ancient franche comté music, food, clothes, etc. :)

bye bye now x

[lesmisletters-daily]

Details Concerning The Cheese-dairies Of Pontarlier

Les Mis Letters reading club explores one chapter of Les Misérables every day. Join us on Discord, Substack - or share your thoughts right here on tumblr - today's tag is #lm 1.2.4

Now, in order to convey an idea of what passed at that table, we cannot do better than to transcribe here a passage from one of Mademoiselle Baptistine’s letters to Madame Boischevron, wherein the conversation between the convict and the Bishop is described with ingenious minuteness.

“. . . This man paid no attention to any one. He ate with the voracity of a starving man. However, after supper he said:

“‘Monsieur le Curé of the good God, all this is far too good for me; but I must say that the carters who would not allow me to eat with them keep a better table than you do.’

“Between ourselves, the remark rather shocked me. My brother replied:—

“‘They are more fatigued than I.’

“‘No,’ returned the man, ‘they have more money. You are poor; I see that plainly. You cannot be even a curate. Are you really a curé? Ah, if the good God were but just, you certainly ought to be a curé!’

“‘The good God is more than just,’ said my brother.

“A moment later he added:—

“‘Monsieur Jean Valjean, is it to Pontarlier that you are going?’

“‘With my road marked out for me.’

“I think that is what the man said. Then he went on:—

“‘I must be on my way by daybreak to-morrow. Travelling is hard. If the nights are cold, the days are hot.’

“‘You are going to a good country,’ said my brother. ‘During the Revolution my family was ruined. I took refuge in Franche-Comté at first, and there I lived for some time by the toil of my hands. My will was good. I found plenty to occupy me. One has only to choose. There are paper mills, tanneries, distilleries, oil factories, watch factories on a large scale, steel mills, copper works, twenty iron foundries at least, four of which, situated at Lods, at Châtillon, at Audincourt, and at Beure, are tolerably large.’

“I think I am not mistaken in saying that those are the names which my brother mentioned. Then he interrupted himself and addressed me:—

“‘Have we not some relatives in those parts, my dear sister?’

“I replied,—

“‘We did have some; among others, M. de Lucenet, who was captain of the gates at Pontarlier under the old régime.’

“‘Yes,’ resumed my brother; ‘but in ’93, one had no longer any relatives, one had only one’s arms. I worked. They have, in the country of Pontarlier, whither you are going, Monsieur Valjean, a truly patriarchal and truly charming industry, my sister. It is their cheese-dairies, which they call <i>fruitières</i>.’

“Then my brother, while urging the man to eat, explained to him, with great minuteness, what these <i>fruitières</i> of Pontarlier were; that they were divided into two classes: the <i>big barns</i> which belong to the rich, and where there are forty or fifty cows which produce from seven to eight thousand cheeses each summer, and the <i>associated fruitières</i>, which belong to the poor; these are the peasants of mid-mountain, who hold their cows in common, and share the proceeds. ‘They engage the services of a cheese-maker, whom they call the <i>grurin</i>; the <i>grurin</i> receives the milk of the associates three times a day, and marks the quantity on a double tally. It is towards the end of April that the work of the cheese-dairies begins; it is towards the middle of June that the cheese-makers drive their cows to the mountains.’

“The man recovered his animation as he ate. My brother made him drink that good Mauves wine, which he does not drink himself, because he says that wine is expensive. My brother imparted all these details with that easy gayety of his with which you are acquainted, interspersing his words with graceful attentions to me. He recurred frequently to that comfortable trade of <i>grurin</i>, as though he wished the man to understand, without advising him directly and harshly, that this would afford him a refuge. One thing struck me. This man was what I have told you. Well, neither during supper, nor during the entire evening, did my brother utter a single word, with the exception of a few words about Jesus when he entered, which could remind the man of what he was, nor of what my brother was. To all appearances, it was an occasion for preaching him a little sermon, and of impressing the Bishop on the convict, so that a mark of the passage might remain behind. This might have appeared to any one else who had this, unfortunate man in his hands to afford a chance to nourish his soul as well as his body, and to bestow upon him some reproach, seasoned with moralizing and advice, or a little commiseration, with an exhortation to conduct himself better in the future. My brother did not even ask him from what country he came, nor what was his history. For in his history there is a fault, and my brother seemed to avoid everything which could remind him of it. To such a point did he carry it, that at one time, when my brother was speaking of the mountaineers of Pontarlier, <i>who exercise a gentle labor near heaven, and who</i>, he added, <i>are happy because they are innocent</i>, he stopped short, fearing lest in this remark there might have escaped him something which might wound the man. By dint of reflection, I think I have comprehended what was passing in my brother’s heart. He was thinking, no doubt, that this man, whose name is Jean Valjean, had his misfortune only too vividly present in his mind; that the best thing was to divert him from it, and to make him believe, if only momentarily, that he was a person like any other, by treating him just in his ordinary way. Is not this indeed, to understand charity well? Is there not, dear Madame, something truly evangelical in this delicacy which abstains from sermon, from moralizing, from allusions? and is not the truest pity, when a man has a sore point, not to touch it at all? It has seemed to me that this might have been my brother’s private thought. In any case, what I can say is that, if he entertained all these ideas, he gave no sign of them; from beginning to end, even to me he was the same as he is every evening, and he supped with this Jean Valjean with the same air and in the same manner in which he would have supped with M. Gédéon le Prévost, or with the curate of the parish.

“Towards the end, when he had reached the figs, there came a knock at the door. It was Mother Gerbaud, with her little one in her arms. My brother kissed the child on the brow, and borrowed fifteen sous which I had about me to give to Mother Gerbaud. The man was not paying much heed to anything then. He was no longer talking, and he seemed very much fatigued. After poor old Gerbaud had taken her departure, my brother said grace; then he turned to the man and said to him, ‘You must be in great need of your bed.’ Madame Magloire cleared the table very promptly. I understood that we must retire, in order to allow this traveller to go to sleep, and we both went upstairs. Nevertheless, I sent Madame Magloire down a moment later, to carry to the man’s bed a goat skin from the Black Forest, which was in my room. The nights are frigid, and that keeps one warm. It is a pity that this skin is old; all the hair is falling out. My brother bought it while he was in Germany, at Tottlingen, near the sources of the Danube, as well as the little ivory-handled knife which I use at table.

“Madame Magloire returned immediately. We said our prayers in the drawing-room, where we hang up the linen, and then we each retired to our own chambers, without saying a word to each other.”

[uswnt5]

Apparently AD franch sighed with Birmingham city

was just thinking about her yesterday actually and wondering how she could be out of the league but Barnie lasted like 20 years haha

[leveloneandup]

I have to be 1000% right.

[pettirosso1959]

Napoli si sta sgretolando sotto il dominio comunista.

"Passo dopo passo" , disse Bassolino nel 1990, ai tempi della sua prima elezione a sindaco, l'inizio della fine della mia città.

E passo dopo passo, siamo arrivati a tutto questo.

Il degrado voluto, cercato, anelato dai comunisti per 35 anni d'inciviltà ha portato all'ingovernabilità assoluta, materiale e culturale, in una città dove la sua peggior feccia, che prima viveva rintanata in quartieri-ghetto, oggi gira libera, armata e motorizzata, per l'intero territorio cittadino, fino ad arrivare alla provincia.

La stessa Chiaja, la mia Chiaja, un tempo quartiere-salotto, oggi si è piegata alla volgarità e al malcostume delinquenziale, tanto è vero che l'assassino a sangue freddo del diciannovenne a San Sebastiano al Vesuvio, Santo Romano, dopo aver ucciso, se ne è andato sul lungomare a farsi uno Spritz, come se avesse investito un ratto, invece di aver freddato un giovane.

Vigliaccamente, con due colpi di pistola in pieno petto.

Una Chiaja che non sa più fare selezione, che non riesce a chiudersi alla teppaglia, travolta , a sua volta, dal malvezzo, dalla delinquenza, dal caos dilagante, dalla cafoneria dei suoi esercenti, che hanno ormai soppiantato quelli storici.

Non esistono più zone franche, in città.

Ovunque , rischi di imbatterti in questi pezzi di merda, il più delle volte MINORENNI, con annessa pistola o coltello , che colgono qualsiasi occasione, provocazioni comprese, per fare del male al prossimo.

E' una non-cultura giovanile nuova , questa, che parte dalla contro-cultura comunista.

Dall'esaltazione della cafoneria, del male , dell'ignoranza, del nulla concettuale, del cattivo esempio, dal Cinema (Gomorra & C.) alla musica (D'Alessio, Geolier) , il tutto con il benestare comunale e unito sotto un falso senso di "uguaglianza" sociale che non esiste e non è mai esistita, a Napoli come da nessuna parte.

Un'uguaglianza che ha portato al rimescolio, in ogni angolo della città, tra delinquenti provenienti da famiglie di delinquenti, che calano come jene da quartieri delinquenziali, che di delinquenza campano, e le persone perbene, che ci stanno rimettendo le penne come mosche.

Cosa fare ?

Fossi io a capo dell'ordine pubblico, risolverei in 48 ore.

Militarizzazione della città.

Ordine di consegnare in questura le armi, tutte le armi, entro una certa data, attraverso un ultimatum.

Perquisizione a tappeto, fisica, di tutti i partecipanti agli assembramenti urbani attraverso l'utilizzo di forze speciali di carabinieri e polizia e dell'esercito.

Cammini con la pistola ? cazzi tuoi se ti becco e guarda che ti becco, altrimenti devi solo rinchiuderti in casa, uscire non puoi.

Inasprimento delle pene, fino ad arrivare all'ergastolo, per CHIUNQUE abbia precedenti penali e venga trovato in possesso di un'arma da fuoco.

Ordine di smantellare tutti i campi ROM cittadini, dai quali proviene il 90 % delle armi di contrabbando che questi bastardi impugnano.

Ordine di responsabilizzare, attraverso la confisca di OGNI BENE, la famiglia di chi uccide.

E' impossibile che dei genitori non sappiano che il figlio di 17 anni è stato in carcere per spaccio.

E' impossibile non sapere che questi gira armato.

E' impossibile non sapere che ha preso la macchina, senza avere la patente, per andarsene in giro a farsi gli Spritz dopo aver ucciso.

E quindi i familiari DEVONO PAGARE , come i loro figli assassini.

Perché SONO dei delinquenti conclamati anche loro.

E dal loro seme può nascere solo il male.

Date Napoli a me , e io la ripulirò quartiere per quartiere, casa per casa.

Altro che Meloni, arance e mandarini.

Antonio Sabatino.

[wordpress-blaze-240972658]

Finding Growth in Life's Quiet Moments

Life be life’n sometimes. One minute you feel like you got it all under control, the next you sitting there like, “Bruh, what is even happening?”

I’m learning that growth don’t always look loud. Sometimes it’s quiet. It’s you outgrowing places, people, and even versions of yourself you used to be cool with. It’s not always some big announcement — sometimes it’s just moving different, thinking deeper, or finally choosing peace over proving a point.

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About where I’ve been, where I’m at, and where I’m trying to go. And even though it’s not perfect, I’m grateful. Grateful for lessons that hurt but taught me. Grateful for small wins nobody sees. Grateful for the fact that even on my bad days, I still kept going.

I’m still figuring it out — and honestly, I think we all are. So if you’re reading this and you’re feeling a little lost, a little tired, or just trying to keep it together… just know you’re not alone.

We’re all just trying to make it make sense out here. Stay solid. Stay prayed up. Keep going.

— LO

Source: Finding Growth in Life's Quiet Moments

[uswntpoc]

uswnt HBD, @afranch23 🎉

[hyperfixationsstation]

“The first NWSLPA-American Roots Fan Gear will showcase names, images, and likenesses of 14 top NWSL players: Alex Morgan, Rose Lavelle, Sophia Smith, Lynn Williams, Trinity Rodman, Crystal Dunn, Lo’eau LaBonta, Debinha, Kerolin Nicoli, Sydney Leroux, Dani Weatherholt, Denise O'Sullivan, AD Franch, and Alyssa Naeher.”

Nothing against Weatherholt but how the hell did she sneak onto this list. Every single person on here is a well known name except for her like??? So random hahahaha.

lol lowkey a sneak

[saucysonnetts]

now that it's been a few days (and it's not 5am) and listening to the 91st ep with ad franch hot damn my thoughts have completely changed about that game

[2corvusossifragus]

visited my grandma and now i'm getting ads in franch

[wordpress-blaze-240972658]

Finding Growth in Life's Quiet Moments

Life be life’n sometimes. One minute you feel like you got it all under control, the next you sitting there like, “Bruh, what is even happening?”

I’m learning that growth don’t always look loud. Sometimes it’s quiet. It’s you outgrowing places, people, and even versions of yourself you used to be cool with. It’s not always some big announcement — sometimes it’s just moving different, thinking deeper, or finally choosing peace over proving a point.

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About where I’ve been, where I’m at, and where I’m trying to go. And even though it’s not perfect, I’m grateful. Grateful for lessons that hurt but taught me. Grateful for small wins nobody sees. Grateful for the fact that even on my bad days, I still kept going.

I’m still figuring it out — and honestly, I think we all are. So if you’re reading this and you’re feeling a little lost, a little tired, or just trying to keep it together… just know you’re not alone.

We’re all just trying to make it make sense out here. Stay solid. Stay prayed up. Keep going.

— LO

Source: Finding Growth in Life's Quiet Moments