#...can you tell im procrastinating

[saryasy]

#blurry buddie save me save me blurry buddie

[snekdood]

"if we make america worse and more of a dictatorship that will be even harder to unravel and make it the way we want the country to be, maybe then everyone will join our Glorious Revolution!" bb girl you cant even be in the same room with someone who thinks you should vote, how in tf do you think you're gonna unite people to fight in The Revolution with you? it's gonna be you and your 5 friends, i hate to break it to you.

[emotionaloof]

so i might be obsessed with those two

[jeonsupershy]

WONWOO  '17 IS RIGHT HERE' Global Press Conference

[bloodshotgun]

Soulmate-Identifying Mark

[oldbutchdaniel]

happy wip wednesday. have some yuri ❤️

[froggyrights]

Sometimes I remember that in mangoball dream moved to tumblr and got thousands of notes on his posts while on twitter he had like. 1 like and idk it was funny to me like yeah his stupid goofy ass life would do numbers here

[ferdieinceladoncity]

I felt compelled to make a gif of this face because I could not for the life of me find one online

[codecicle]

Bit of a silly post, but here's my masterlist of slimecicle mcyt videos/streams!

Small notes: Its just from his pov. Streams from other people (sadly) don't count for these. Everything but his official playlists will have vods for every video that's an edited-down stream.

Mega playlist. All videos and vods here!

SMPLive

SMPEarth

EpicSMP

DSMP

OriginsSMP

QSMP

His official SCU playlist/"my minecraft masterpieces"

His official Minecraft VR playlist

[sourscratched]

the hand that feeds

[difeisheng]

碎鏡

My Qiaofang fic 《原諒我可好》 was originally the ending to a slightly longer draft, before I edited/cut it down and it became its own oneshot. However, I still like what didn't make it in, and Qiao Wanmian's perspective was a joy to write. So here is everything that happened before, as an extra (but can be read on its own).

Qiao Wanmian learns, days after the fact (again), that a man is dead, disappeared from the world (again), and as she feels the last ten years of her life warp, rush past, reset (back to the start, back to the end) the world fractures into sharp glass.

Qiao-guniang, are you all right? makes its way around the shards, the sound cut too harsh in its gentleness. Menzhu, do you want us to keep looking for him?

Qiao-nvxia, I'm sure he's still alive.

Qiao-guniang, he came back last time. He wouldn't leave you.

(For the second time, no one says.)

Days turn into weeks, turn into a month, strung together by a symphony of demand, of advice, of people who remember a heartbroken maiden mourning her destined, and no one beyond that.

Menzhu—

Qiao-nvxia—

Qiao-guniang—

Qiao Wanmian—

"Enough," she says, and for not the first time, she understands why Li Xiangyi wanted to run.

And so finally, Qiao Wanmian does too.

~*~

Here is the measure of Qiao Wanmian's life:

She is almost thirty, and two betrotheds have come and gone. She has spent half her lifetime dedicated to a sect, defining its name and its honour, but pride though it is, her name does not exist outside of it. Qiao Wanmian of Sigumen, as she hears it echoed in the streets.

And more than that, because the names of heroes will not, cannot die? Qiao Wanmian, Li Xiangyi's beloved.

What is it like, she wonders, watching a trio of girls walk through a market in a small town, sword wrapped in cloth for anonymity, to be someone who loves with the freedom of leaving it behind? What is it like, to exist and nothing more, as someone other than a widow who was never a wife?

What is it like for the world to look at oneself and see a person, not a story, perfect in her sculpted tragedy?

And somehow, somehow she finds the answer after two months of wandering. Or rather he finds Qiao Wanmian, seated at an inn toward the south, blue silk and silver stepping out of a storm and through the door for too-wide eyes to find her own.

"Qiao-guniang," Fang Duobing breathes. When Qiao Wanmian looks at him, all of twenty years old and too young to lose a first love, she knows that before him stands a shattered world too.

"Join me?" she says to that, and signals for another jar of wine.

~*~

Fang Duobing is an interesting one, Qiao Wanmian thinks, several hours later, studying him by the relief of candlelight. His hair sweeps over his shoulder, dark river with a few strands fallen loose, as he slumps forward to brace his arms on the table. He's staring downward as he props his chin up by one hand, the other fidgeting with his sleeve. "How long do you think it'll take to find him?"

Maudlin, he is. He hasn't had the years to build up a tolerance for wine, although Qiao Wanmian cannot say she's been sober this evening. The warmth to her face is from more than the inn torches.

How did Li Lianhua talk to this boy, when he was in this state? What was lie, what was truth, and for how long? Did it feel like this, where Qiao Wanmian knows the answer to Fang Duobing's words, but cannot let it escape her tongue?

"I don't know," she settles for instead, a soft lie to cushion the truth. "It might take a month. It might take years."

"It won't be years," Fang Duobing murmurs. The strings of beads in his hair rustle as he tilts his head to look at her. "We both already waited ten. I'll find him sooner than that."

Xiangyi, Qiao Wanmian thinks, thinks of the last ten years gone by without lighting lanterns for the dead. You always chose the ones who could never give up, didn't you?

"Good luck," she says softly, nearly a whisper, and takes a slow swallow of wine. The jar is nearly empty.

Silence unspools, punctuated by the flicker of the lights. Fang Duobing unstops the next jar of wine and brings it to his lips, neck a graceful curve in the lean of his head back, accented by the line of his jaw. He's grown into his features, for all the room he still has left to mature. If the jianghu hadn't called his name, he would have made a handsome aristocrat in the imperial court.

Is that what else Li Lianhua saw in Fang Duobing, for him to take on a companion after ten years of solitude? Qiao Wanmian wonders briefly, in the split moment before Fang Duobing glances at her again, then somewhere in the distance, darting away too quickly to count as an idle movement. "Something to say, Fang-gongzi?"

Fang Duobing closes his eyes, in a moment's thought. When he opens them, it is to lean closer, close enough that Qiao Wanmian can feel the shape of his breath. Perhaps this dearth of respectable distance, if anyone cares, can be excused by a wine-fuelled lapse in judgment. She chooses to let it be so.

"How did you survive this the last time?" Fang Duobing asks, less question and more plea. Qiao Wanmian can see now that it's been on his mind all evening, desperation forcing his tongue.

His eyes are dark now. He looks lost.

And before she can respond, "I'm asking because you were also someone who knew him."

Oh.

Qiao Wanmian doesn't deserve to have the word zhiji alongside her name. Not when it comes to Li Xiangyi. But she knows what Fang Duobing is searching for, and so she holds it out, that lifeline of kindred recognition.

Thousands mourned the loss of a legend. They both mourned the death of a man.

When her hand moves toward Fang Duobing, half by some instinct, half by impulse, he leans into the touch, letting himself be tugged up by his chin to face her.

"I don't have a good answer for you," she says, and there's no lie for this that will fare any less painful than the truth. "You'll get through one day hoping he'll be there waiting at the end, and he won't be, but you'll go to sleep so that maybe he'll find you in the next. He won't. But if it means you see tomorrow, then you have to keep hoping, until someday, you've found something new to wake up for."

It all comes out in a rush, and it surprises Qiao Wanmian by the honesty of it, so much so that her last words are too quiet by contrast. "That's how people like us keep living."

Fang Duobing's eyes are too bright. She brushes one gemstone of a fallen tear away with her thumb.

"You did this alone?" he says, and Qiao Wanmian recognizes the tremble to those words.

A wandering swordsman with a blade can fight any demon that throws itself at him. Fear, though, has ten thousand different ways to find you.

"You won't have to."

A promise, she realizes a moment too late, but she's already made it. These words were for him alone. Something else takes over Fang Duobing's expression: relief, like the first blossom of spring after a bleak winter.

He's too young for this to be his life.

And of Qiao Wanmian? What does Fang Duobing think? She waits, drawing away from him, the comfort of another's warmth gone.

His words are too soft in his mouth, gaze too earnest. "I know you haven't said anything about yourself all night, but you don't have to either, you know."

It feels like an arrow let fly.

Qiao Wanmian is left helpless by its wound, staring in the half-dark at a boy too sweet for her, willing to break her fall while he doesn't know how to land himself, and, and—

Something inside her breaks.

~*~

When she reaches for him, anything of him, drowned in the shadows by the doors to his room— waist, collar, mouth— he lets her.

[shitpostingkats]

Pinning Down Every Shinjuku Reapers Hanafuda Suit

In The World Ends With You, there are a total of twelve (named) reapers, each corresponding to a member of the chinese zodiac. They continue this design philosophy in NEO, with all of the Shinjuku reapers being based off a different suit of Hanafuda.

Let's start with the ones we know.

(post does contain spoilers)

Tsugumi - January, Crane

Conveniently, most of the reaper's birth months point to their suit, as well as their noise forms, for the ones that have them. Tsugumi is a new years baby, and Grus Cantus is from the hikari card. (Each suit is divided into four cards, with higher point cards being marked with an animal or object, and I'm gonna be honest, this is about all I know. This post is not a comprehensive guide for how to play hanafuda.)

Ayano - May, Iris

Skipping forward a few months, we have Ayano, born May 18th, and using the iris. Every suit, along with having a month associated with it, also has a plant, which is used on every card in the suit. Ayano is pretty much the only reaper who uses her suits flower, rather than an image from a hikari or tane card.

Shiba - June, Butterflies

Born June 21, his noise form is butterflies. Not much to say. I guess I could point out how he's the only of three reapers who wears a symbol of his suit inspiration on his non-noise-form person (necklace). The other two are:

Susukichi - October, Deer

The deer skull is on his tshirt, as well as being able to see a little of his tattoos, which we see later is also a stylized skull and antlers. Birthday matches; October 13th.

Hazuki - December, Phoenix

Ah, the mysterious Haz. The first of our reapers to have a birth month that does not match his hanafuda inspiration. (According to the official guidebook, his birthday is May 5th)While the Phoenix Cantus isn't his noise form, it is mentioned in the secret reports that he is the one responsible for shaping the soul pulvis into that form. Also, like our previous two reapers, he wears his motif on his civilian clothes, in the little phoenix symbols on his jacket. Him being a phoenix is also likely to make him a further foil to Joshua, as they both are the only mythological animals in their respective groups.

Now lets get into the less clear cut ones.

Minamimoto - July, Boar

I know what you're thinking! "Minamimoto isn't a Shinjuku reaper! Also, he isn't a boar, he's a catboy." Undoubtedly true. But he is used caught up in their scheme, purposefully absorbing the soul pulvis and afterwards Leo Cantus manifests with tusks and a snout. What even more interesting is it's very likely his original noise form was a boar as well. But a boar from the chinese zodiac. While he is a lion in the original game, a lion kinda clashes with the Shibuya hierarchy. And between Sho being process-of-elimination the pig, as well as setting up during week two in Pork City. Which could imply that Leo Cantus Armo is a regression to a more berserk and less enlightened state, literally sending Minamimoto back to his roots, before he radicalized and broke away from the Shibuya Reapers.

Kubo - August, Geese

Like Haz, Kubo doesn't have a noise form, but he does have strong narrative ties to the Soul Pulvis, which manifest as a flock of aggressive birds that fly in a V formation. Also, his birthday is August 14.

According to Nomura, Kubo was added late in the writing process. Initially, Nomura wanted to add two characters, but the writer gave him a concerned look, so he settled for just Kubo. Not only is this incredibly funny, we'll be looping back to this.

Hishima - September, Sake Cup

His surname, Sakazuki, is actually the name of the specific sake cup pictured in the September suit. It's the one you see in used in cermonial exchanging of sake, like weddings or yazuka deals. Considering his subplot with Shiba, themes like "brotherhood" and "marriage" are pretty fitting. Once again, the birth month matches: September 7th.

Shoka - November, Swallow

Asterisk. Once again, the cat themed characters of Shibuya have it complicated.

Shoka's birthday is March 30, which is the suit of the cherry blossom. This is further supported by her surname being Sakurane, which was originally made for the protagonist of NEO, to go with Neku's surname being Sakuraba. However the name was given to Shoka as they thought it fit her better. Internally, she is sort of a dual protagonist, being labelled in the data as ch002 and getting billing right after Rindo's actor in the credits.

But her online alias of Swallow points pretty directly to the November suit, and its tane card which features a Swallow. As mentioned earlier, Nomura initially wanted one more Shinjuku reaper character than we end up seeing in the game, so its possible Shoka got some design elements merged together from two different suits so as to not waste any creative material. Or she's just meant to be both and I'm overthinking it.

Kaie - Febuary, Plum Blossom, Warbling White-Eye

We've got ten out of twelve suits catagorized! This, unfortunately, means we are gonna have to start making some guesses.

Kaie's birth month is no help, being November, where Shoka is already using the Swallow symbolism. If we're continuing the tradition of using animal cards, Kaie is either the warbler or the cuckoo. I'm gonna be honest folks, I'm partial to the warbler just because of Kaie's eyebags.

Anyone else see it?

Also, "warbling" could be a a reference to Kaie's preference to not speak, because while he communicates mostly through text, he does have a few voicelines near the end of the game, which shows us his voice is quiet and with a little bit of a stutter. Also, it leaves the last suit open for:

Tsugumi's brother - April, Wisteria, Cuckoo

I bet you thought I forgot about him! Yes, our last suit is the April suit, represented by hanging wisteria and the cuckoo.

Cuckoo's are, for better or for worse, famous for their brood parasitism: a cuckoo will lay its eggs in another birds nest, and when it hatches, the young cuckoo chick will attempt to push all the other eggs out, so it can have the parents sole attention. Tsugumi and her brothers' relationship does not seem anything like that, but it is worth noting that they are only reapers who are related. I think the cuckoo's parasitism is more likely a reference to how her brother was a high-ranking Shinjuku reaper who nonetheless "betrayed" the hierarchy and tried to defy Haz's schemes.

Wisteria is a symbol of love, longevity, and endurance. His final act in death was to protect his sister, ensuring she would survive.

[proshippers-against-censorship]

UWU stop interacting with antis. If you’re anti-censorship then act like it, you can’t stop people from having opinions <3 coming from someone who isn’t pro or anti ship because I’m not a 15 year old porn addicted gooner

This is a discourse blog. A discourse blog that speaks quite a bit about sexual topics. If a 15 year old was running this blog, I would have concerns, in all honesty, because they really shouldn't be interacting as publicly and openly with NSFW content.

However, your comment alone helps to display why, while I'm perfectly fine running my discourse blog as a discourse blog, this may not be the place for you. So let's break this down:

• No adult with any desire to be taken seriously by anyone uses the term 'gooner' unironically. That being said, you give off the red flags of being a younger teen, and interacting directly with NSFW content easily breaches the boundaries of adults.

• If a 15yo was regularly interacting with porn to the point that this is easily known, their parents can be held liable in multiple states. You could try reporting me to the police for being a 'porn-addicted minor'. Unfortunately, you will come off as a laughingstock, because I'm not a minor and I also just...don't watch porn. Unlike you, presumably, I am in a lovely relationship with a significant other who can handle those desires.

•The APA and DSM-5 do NOT classify porn addictions as real, and therefore, they aren't a thing. Multiple studies, as well, have disproven the existence of the 'porn addiction'. This idea can be traced back to - wait for it - Christian Puritanical anti-sex culture. Now, as much as church needs to be better separated out of everything, the Christian God does not run my life nor most countries, and so his religious anti-sex ideals are irrelevant.

• I'm guessing you just, don't read (shocker), but if you check out that beautiful intro paragraph that is pinned on this blog, you'll notice that I welcome opinions shared in a civil way, even if they oppose my own, and am in fact quite stern on the idea that you shouldn't lock yourself in an echo chamber. Hearing contrasting opinions can help strengthen or even change your core beliefs. But that whole idea leans on the idea that neither side is pissing their pants over discovering that their ideals don't extend to everyone, which is what you appear to be doing here. I am welcome to conversations on why you think what I'm doing is stupid, but I'm not going to bother with you unless you put on your big boy pants and be a mature person.

• You aren't 'neither', you're an anti. You scream it throughout your whole message. So if this account bothers you, why don't you do yourself a service and block it instead of being annoying in my DMs?

• This point is just here to see if you have the capacity to actually read things, since you obviously know nothing about this account despite the big ole pinned post. Go have some tea, get in a better mood, and then feel free to come back for a more progressive, civil conversation. It'd be good for you.

[boneywones]

hmmmm choices choices,…….. continue working on my personal multiverse or animate classicerror to bang bang meme…………..

[730kc]

Kaito (obliviously invading personal space) x Shinichi (pining but hiding it pretty... well?)

love me this kind of kaishin too (　･ิω･ิ)

[bogkeep]

it was always a strange dichotomy. every middle school classmate i had told me i'd be a millionaire when i grew up, a Famouse Artisté. it's easy enough to imagine as a teen, i suppose: skill equals fame equals money. i was doubtful about this prophecy, not because i wasn't confident in my ability to draw, but because it was hard to imagine a world where i'd be paid for it.

it was an ice breaker game at summer camp. horrible one, really - everyone in a group were given a character profile. now we had to imagine that it was the zombie apocalypse, and the helicopter to safety was two seats short and we had argue why we deserved a spot. the character i got was an asshole doctor of some kind. i don't remember if i argued my way into the helicopter or not, but i do remember the feeling that's been hanging over me my entire life - if the apocalypse happens right now, i have nothing to contribute.

there's something really painful about it. i have cultivated a skill for my whole life, i can make art and tell stories that are entirely unique to me, there is no way to get someone else to create in the exact same way i can, and yet - i've contributed more to capitalist society by sitting in an empty hotel reception for eight hours a day.

which made me develop anxiety, to boot.

i illustrated two children's books. they're some of my best work. the contract i signed was industry standard and the indie author who had hired me was incredibly kind... but even after stock sold out i had earnt little more than some pocket change.

in high school we had an outing to dig our own snow caves that we would spend the night in. in teams, thankfully. i have so little physical strength to speak of, most i could do to help was clear away the snow rubble and toss it outside. i know, i know, my classmates reassured me it was an important job to do, i was an invaluable member of the group, sure - but it's that feeling, you know?

what would my task be in the communist solarpunk commune?

a person cannot be useless. it's a human being. they just exist, no ifs and buts about it. one can only be useless in the eyes of an ableist, capitalist society that sees no value in being alive beyond production and profit.

sometimes i receive messages from internet strangers to tell me something i said - often several years ago - was helpful to them. maybe it was a throwaway comment on a forum. maybe it was replying to a question they could've googled the answer to. maybe it was an encouraging reply to someone's artwork. turns out it mattered to someone. huh.

of course you can learn new skills. i have learnt plenty over the years! i have also learnt that there are limitations to what i can do. that some of the obstacles i face are not in fact obstacles everyone faces. it's not that i can't break tasks into smaller steps, it's more that half of those steps are going to be "rinse your hands because you Touched a Thing and now you're going to have to touch Another Thing." i wonder if that's adding to my cognitive load or something.

i was never raised to be a man, so by all accounts i do not understand why i'm so haunted by the spectre of toxic masculinity - what would i do if i was a medieval peasant and a war broke out? what if i was in a pre-historic hunter gatherer society and i was expected to hunt? what if i was a humble farm boy discovering the sword of the chosen one and the world depended on my non-existing courage to face certain death?

look, it's stupid. these are not scenarios i will find myself in. besides, pre-historic humans depended on community and taking care of each other. that's how we survive.

i'm not useless and i decided to make peace with being useless anyway.

we're surrounded by digital clocks. we can't really escape them. do we need watchmakers? would they save me a spot in the zombie apocalypse helicopter? no, don't answer that. i'm just happy i found something that requires a light touch and an observant eye.