#sometimes things are just not for you on the internet!!!!!

[alwayshappyhoursomewhere]

#remember how most LJ culture occurred in the comments?

Remember how LiveJournal let you have several icons (or avatars or "pfps" as you might call them now)? And you'd carefully choose an icon to fit the subject matter, your tone, and the blog on which you were commenting or posting?

And it could make your argument look that much snarkier if you used a rude one? Or you could use it to add a multiplier to a joke?

And icons, alongside banners and wallpapers, were a whole genre of fanwork with its own design language, conventions, and norms, including carefully crediting people for them?

That was neat.

[springgirlshowers]

Desktop Struggles

Summary: You think the worker at this internet cafe is cute, a little weird too, you’ve made multiple attempts to get his attention.

CW: kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, biting kink?, overstim, multiple orgasms, smut galore!

WC: 3799

def inspired by this post ! tell me if u can spot my little hints at joosty being a vamp (•ᵥ_ᵥ•)

You didn’t really need to go to this place all this much. You had your own computer at home, and it definitely wasn’t as old as the ones in the cafe.

It wasn’t much of a cafe, you could get coffee. But it was bitter and disgusting. It was either that or water from the dispenser. Which you didn’t trust most of the time either.

You came across it when you had to complete an essay, but your laptop was getting fixed. So you had to stop by the Internet Cafe. Open 24/7. It was nearby and affordable.

But what kept drawing you back to that building was the cute receptionist. Actually. You weren't sure if he was a receptionist. More of a mix of receptionist/janitor/computer engineer. He was a worker. Probably the only one, it was always just him and sometimes the manager there.

Soft and slightly messy blond hair, faint black eyeshadow smudged on his eyes, numbers tattooed on his fingers, other tattoos littered his arms and peeked out from underneath his sleeves.

You knew his name. Joost. You saw it on his jacket. He had his own desk at the back, it was on the elevated part on the floor and next to the office door.

He spent most on the time typing on the keys, a cigarette hanging loose from his lips as he puffed even though there was a no smoking sign right next to him. Sometimes coming down from his desk to pick up trash people left behind.

Or he’d occasionally flip through the magazines he’d get from the metal display rack in the corner, next to the poorly taken care of chinese evergreen plant. He always picked up the medical ones, any that included anything about blood on them.

You figured out different ways to talk to him or get him over to where you were sitting.

You’d purposely mess up things on the computer, disconnecting it from the internet, unplugging the wires in the back of it, claiming that you had no idea how it happened, they must’ve been loose!

Or you’d pretend you didn’t know how to use certain features, hoping he’d teach you. Telling him that working with technology wasn’t your strong suit and other things like:

“Sorry, I can’t figure out how to insert a photo onto this document. Do you know how to?”

“Can you help me with the copier? I think it might be jammed just need to copy a few papers for one of my classes.”

“Could you show me how to print out documents? I need to print out an essay.”

Or asking him how much time you had left to keep using the computer.

Honestly, all these attempts sound quite pathetic. But what could you do? You had a silly crush on a worker at this cafe.

Though there was one incident. After you heard a little bit of arguing coming from behind that office door. You saw Joost come walking out angrily, black trash bag in one gloved hand and a cd in the other.

You watched him bend down and begin to look under the empty desks, scraping the old hardened gum off them. It was a bit funny watching him try to fit under and into the tiny space with how tall he was.

He stopped to look underneath the desk next to yours. You watched as he looked around underneath.

His hair looked so soft, you wanted to run your hands through it, you almost did actually, but you stopped yourself, putting your hand back onto the mouse instead.

You heard him scraping the CD against the wood, but then, you felt his fingers graze the skin of your leg. It was more than a graze honestly, more of him dragging his hand smoothly and slowly down your leg.

Your breath hitched as you felt his touch, his abnormally cold touch. You thanked the heavens you decided to wear shorts that day.

“Sorry, lost balance for a moment.” He said once he stood up.

Which was a complete and oblivious lie, especially with that small smile you saw on his lips.

Now it was particularly late tonight. You and a random old guy were the only ones left using the computers. You originally came here to study, but you ended up looking at clothes online and random intriguing articles.

You sighed quietly to yourself, it was late, nearly midnight. You could go back to your apartment, but you knew you’d be doing the same thing on your laptop there.

Eventually the man collected his things and left. Now it was only you and Joost in the building.

You opened up another tab and went into your documents, trying to figure out what you could mess up or play dumb about this time.

You decided to make a mock resume, you didn’t have the effort nor the energy to go through the process of making one tonight.

Then your next step was disconnecting the printer from that computer and disconnecting the internet, again.

You eyed Joost throughout your process, he was flipping through another magazine with a cigarette that was nearly a stub in between his lips.

You let out a dramatic scoff of disappointment as you slumped back in your chair to get his attention. It worked. Joost looked over with furrowed brows.

“Oh, sorry. I’m trying to print out a resume and the wifi disconnected so now I can’t connect to the printer either.” You shrugged and let your hands fall back onto the desk, a little frown on your lips.

Joost let out a small breath before crushing his cigarette into the overfilled ashtray before getting up and coming over. You had to hold back your smile.

He leant over behind you, he’d never done this before. Usually when he was helping someone, he’d just stand to the side and tell them what to click and what to type.

This time, he had his left hand splayed out on one side of the desk, his right doing the same. He had you caged in with his long arms, his face next to yours.

You tried to not let your breath stagger. But failed due to his next move.

He moved his hand onto the mouse, you’d hadn’t moved your house off the mouse yet. You couldn’t move it now. He moved the cursor around and clicked. Acting as if your hand wasn’t even under his at all.

“Even the old ladies here don’t have as many as issues as you do with the computers here.” Joost scoffed out a laugh, his other hand moving to type.

“I guess I just keep choosing the bad computers.” You joked, trying to mask your nervousness.

“Yeah. I guess you just keep thinking you can get away with disconnecting the internet on them too.” He said blankly, your eyes widened. He stopped typing and stopped moving around the mouse.

“You do realize I’m not that oblivious right? I know you’ve been doing this on purpose.” You saw him turn his face to you in your peripheral vision. You kept staring straight, too scared to meet his eyes.

“Come on, liefje. If you wanted my attention to me you could’ve just came up to my desk. You can’t keep messing up the computers, we worked hard to get these, you know?” He was scolding you, yet his tone of voice was soft. It almost sounded like he was trying to reassure you, comfort you.

“I can help you with other things instead of computers. You should’ve just told me what you wanted. A conversation, a smoke, a kiss?” There was no way he said that. He had to be joking.

You tried not to give any physical reaction to his last suggestion, but yet your body betrayed you with the smallest movement. Your eyes flickered down to his lips. Joost grinned.

“All you had to do was ask.” He teased, he brought his face closer, seeing if you’d take the leap of faith and move first. You did.

Your lips eloped around each other, you opened your mouth slightly, allowing his tongue to slip in. Continuing to kiss, you carefully stood up, shoving the chair away with your foot as you tangled your hands into his hair.

His hands moved to your waist, causing your shirt to rise slightly as he moved you back a bit to where the top of your thighs were pressing against the desk. You took one hand out of his hair to push the keyboard behind you, taking a seat on the edge of the desk.

It was embarrassing how quickly he was able to wipe away your bravery and turn get you flustered instead.

Joost pulled away, eyeing your body up and down. Without warning, he went for your neck. His lips kissing it all over, leaving trails of red spots all over the skin.

Then he pulled away. Stepping back. There was a long moment of confusion and embarrassment as he walked away, then relief as you watched him turn the light up sign that said ‘Open’ off, flip the sign on the door to the side that said ‘Closed! Be back soon!’ and drop the cheap white plastic blinds to cover the glass windows and locked door.

In seconds, his lips were back on you, his hands roaming madly all over your body. They cupped then squeezed your tits roughly, he smiled against your skin when he heard your breath hitch.

At one point he must’ve of taken his fingerless gloves off. You felt the skin of his palms once his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, rubbing up and down on the smooth skin of your stomach. Waisting no time, he pulled your shirt up and off your body.

“Eager, are we?” You giggled at his rushed movements to unclip your bra next.

“You’ve been giving me those eyes for months.” He said through a breathy chuckle, he was right. You had been giving him fuck-me-eyes since you first saw him, he was pent up, and couldn’t wait any longer.

His large hands grasped your breasts again, he kissed all along your chest, soon taking one nipple in his mouth. Teasing it with his tongue and sucking on it as his hand squeezed the other.

His hand and mouth swapped places, giving your other boob the same treatment. His kisses trailed down and stopped just above the waistband of your sweatpants. You kicked off your shoes, knowing what was next to come. He quickly pulled down your pants, the urgency making you giggle.

You spread your legs farther apart, he pressed a kiss to your clothed cunt. It was oddly….romantic.

He peppered kisses along your thighs as his fingers hooked around your panties, removing them as well. He hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you down but giving you enough space where you lay back on your elbows on the desk.

He trailed kisses along your thighs, occasionally nipping and biting them before finally bringing his attention to your pussy.

“Cute.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t even give you any time to think of what he meant before he dove in and worked his tongue like a madman. His tongue sloppily lapping at your opening as his nose brushed against your clit.

One hand tangled into his hair in response, your nails scratching his scalp. He moaned into your cunt at the feeling, the vibration of his noise adding more to the pleasure.

Your other hand had a white knuckle grasp on the edge of the desk. His mouth was bullying your bud, then his hands pressed against your thighs to prevent you trying to close them.

Worse, he gripped onto the back of your knees, pushing them up to where you could sit the heels on your feet onto the desk edge.

This new position felt lethal, the feeling making you let out a silent scream as your face contort as you mumbled out ‘Oh God’ multiple times.

He only dove deeper, mouth moving to suck on your cunt. You rolled your hips against his face and your hand gripped tighter at his hair as you came. Your head lolled back as you rode through your orgasm. You expected him to stop, to break away from you. But he continued.

He kept lapping at your cunt, his dick painfully hard against his pants due to the pathetic noises you were making. Your legs were already sore from tensing your muscles so much, already a sheen of sweat forming on your skin.

You whined and whimpered and squirmed, trying to close your thighs and push his head away. But nothing could stop him, he was on a fucking roll, drunk off your juices.

In an attempt to get your hand a more stable spot on the desk, you moved it back, accidentally your hand went onto the keyboard behind. The old plastic board slipping and hitting into the neck of the blocky computer. No damage was done, just a bit of a shock to both of you.

“Shit! Sorry!” You giggled nervously, embarrassed at your accident. Joost pulled back and let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

Honestly, he was already running out of air, but he had to get that second orgasm out of you. So, he got off his knees, moved his mouth to your, and his hand to your cunt.

He rubbed two fingers against your slick before easily slipping them inside you, immediately curling and moving at a quick pace. Your body trembled.

You were already so sensitive, already so close. You wrapped your arm around his neck. He chuckled at you hanging onto him, your nails dug into his shoulder while you tilted and laid on your own upper arm as you mewled and whined.

His eyes never left yours as your jaw hung open and you cried out. Your other hand grabbed onto his wrist as you came undone for the second time.

“Ohhh I know, I know.” He cooed, resting his forehead against your temple, slowing down the movements of his fingers, and whispering praises to you and peppering soft kisses to your cheek and the side of your lips, soon moving your head to kiss you properly.

His movements came to a stop and he pulled his tattooed fingers from you, kissing you firmly but slowly.

“Was that too much? You okay?” He said after breaking away, pressing his forehead to yours.

“No. I’m okay.” You gave him a breathy weak laugh, your eyelids droopy as you stared at him. “We can keep going.”

“You sure?”

“Please, I wanna keep going.” You begged. Joost only smiled before giving you another long passionate kiss before stepping back, taking off his tan jacket, and grabbing you by the hips to turn you around.

You giggled as he pressed a hand to your back, pushing your front to lay on top of the table. The noise of his belt unclipping and hitting the floor along with his pants added 10x more excitement flowing through your veins.

He teased the tip of his cock inside you, then he pulled out. Then he did it a few more times before showing you mercy, rubbing his cock in between your folds before finally sinking into your cunt.

You whined at the stretching sensation. Joost smoothed his hand over the side of your stomach, whispering little encouragements and praises.

“You’re doing perfect, schatje. I know you can take me.” He leaned down to press small peck to your back.

He gave you a moment to get used to the stretch of him inside you, you nodded as your signal for him to go ahead.

His thrusts started off slow and pulling out slightly, gentle. Then he would pull out all the way and go all the way back in, giving slow deep strokes.

He stopped, then immediately began to thrust into you at a high pace. It caught you off guard and made you arch your back as you cried out.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and whimpers, and Joosts breathy groans.

Your hips were hitting into the wooden sides of the desk. You let out a small noise of discomfort because of at one point and Joost noticed.

“You okay?” He asked, his brows furrowing in concern, his pace slowed a bit.

“Mhm. Please don’t stop, don’t- please!” You cried out, your moans were getting much louder now. Your voice nearly echoing throughout the room, embarrassingly. This caused Joost to clamp his cold hand over your mouth and shushed you.

He pulled you up, your back against his chest as he continued to thrust into you, you let out a loud whine against his hand.

“Shhh, you can’t be too loud, liefje. We don’t want anyone outside hearing and knowing what’s going on in here, right?” He turned your head back slightly so you could see him.

You whined into his hand and nodded. Your moans were muffled by his hand, but still loud enough to drive him fucking crazy.

This angle of his cock hitting inside you was overpowering, you lifted your hand up to grab onto his forearm

“Aw schatje, you gonna cum?” He cooed, not even bothering to try and fight back the toothy grin on his face.

You scrunched your eyes shut, nodding frantically and whining.

As you clenched around him and cried out against his hand, he dug his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to pierce the skin, but a perfect amount of pressure where it was pleasing.

His thrusts slowed and came to a stop once you began to jerk and twitch. He took his hand off your mouth, moving to the center of your chest as his other was wrapped around your waist. Pressing small kisses to the side of your face and neck, occasionally nipping at it.

Surely you would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for his large hands keeping you pressed against him. Your breath hitched repeatedly and your thighs were shaking against him as he kept himself buried inside you.

Carefully, he helped you lean back down, you kept yourself up using your tired arms.

Without warning, he began to pound into you again, and you began to moan and sob out loudly in pleasure.

His hand was quick to cover your mouth again, you could hear him chuckle behind you.

“Fuck, just a bit longer, liefje. You can hold on for a bit longer, yeah?”

“Mmph, mhm!” You nodded, his hand still covering your mouth. He chose to be evil as his other hand moved to your clit, two fingers rubbing quick circles. You let out an embarrassing squeal.

“Think you can give me one more while you wait?” You didn’t even have to try and give him your answer, you cried out into his hand as you hit your fourth and final orgasm of the night,

At this point, his hand was the only thing keeping your head up. Your lips were smushed against his palm and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. Your arms were barely enough to keep yourself up.

You were putty in his hands, moaning mindlessly. It was beautiful.

He kept his hand on your mouth while he moved his other from your clit to hold onto your waist, holding onto so tight there’d be marks by morning. He was pulling you back as he thrusted into you.

His movements soon became sloppier and he removed his hand from your mouth so he could grasp onto your waist with both hands.

You clumsily let yourself lay onto the desk, hands tightening into fists, your nails digging into your palms.

Your loud mindless moans and walls squeezing around him pushed him over the edge.

He spilt inside you with an exasperated groan and a few harsh deep thrusts. Giving you one last hard thrust after he finished. Just to get a small yelp out of you. Bastard.

He pressed kisses to your back as you rested the side of your face against the table, laying himself against you but not putting all his weight on top of you. Your body was trembling against him as you both caught your breath.

“Fuck. Still okay?” He checked again after bringing his head up, looking at you sweetly as he smoothed back damp strands of hair away from your face.

“Absolutely. Are you okay?”

“Of course. A bit sweaty, but I feel amazing.” He scoffed playfully.

“I don’t understand how you’re still so cold though. I feel like I’ve been in a sauna.” You laughed, picking your head up.

“I don’t understand either. I’m always cold for some reason.” He lied. He knew the reason.

“You might have an iron deficiency, you should get that checked out.” You joked, a lazy grin on your face.

“Probably should.” He grinned back before leaning back up, pulling out slowly and apologizing quietly when he heard you wince.

You pushed yourself up using your hands, stabilizing yourself for a second then grabbing your shirt and bra that both had landed onto the privacy wall next to the computer.

By the time you turned around, Joost already had one glove back on (the hand that didn’t finger you), put back on his pants and tan jacket. He was holding your sweatpants and underwear.

Jesus Christ, he moved fast.

“Sit down, you’re too shaky. Let me help.” He suggested, you leaned back against the desk again.

He bent down, holding your ankle softly to help you step into your panties, sliding them up and doing the same with your sweatpants. And he put your shoes back on for you.

It was silly watching him be so gentle despite that a moment ago he was just pounding into you so hard that the entire row of computers were shaking.

He stood up and tucked away a few stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder lazily, his hands moved to your waist, thumbs rubbing over the fabric. The gears were turning in his head, he was hesitant to speak.

“So…you’ll be back tomorrow? Cause- I mean- I don’t mind that you stay longer than most customers. I really don’t mind at all.” He nervously shrugged, looking away from your eyes and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

He was flustered. Cute.

“Maybe, will I get a discount?” You teased, tilting your head at him. Giving him a dramatic pout for extra measure.

“I’ll think about it.” He narrowed his eyes playfully and bit back a smile. It was definitely a yes.

[harteofthehart-ayyy]

@starcrests asked:

Is there anything I should know if I just got sent to this world a few hours(?) ago?

Holy shit hi uh

Find a place to live. It doesn’t have to be permanent. In fact, don’t count on it being permanent.

Looks like you’re already connected to the internet so that’s good. Look at a map, figure out where you are in the world.

Think about what you can remember. Most fallers (documented here and at home anyway) lose a significant amount of their memories. I still don’t know why I didn’t?? Could be that I fell artificially.

Get an ID. You are going to want to legally exist if you’re going to be trapped in another dimension. Depending on where you are this might take a while. Figure out if you need more than just an ID card or paper of some kind, too. It’s different in different places. You’ll need that to open a bank account and other important things like get a job if they do background checks. The paperwork is worth it. Even if it’s weird when you come up as having no background and you have to explain your situation and see if there are recorded instances of falling in your universe because otherwise you might just not be believed which sucks major ass. Happened to my partner.

GET A JOB. You will want an income as soon as possible for things like buying food and paying rent if you’re not lucky enough to find someone who will let you crash on their couch for free.

Edit: BUY YOURSELF COMFORTABLE CLOTHING. YOU ARE GOING TO WANT A CHANGE OF CLOTHES. It’s easier if you’re wearing clothes you LIKE that are COMFORTABLE. Treat yourself you deserve it you literally just lost everything.

Basically take it as if you’re moving to another region. It will be extremely fucking stressful and you will feel lost and alone and like nothing matters and you will want to give up because honestly it’s a fucking bleak situation. Falling is scary and honestly? Bad. Bad experience. Really bad. Try to make the most of it?? I guess??? Maybe try to take it as a fresh chance??

Let yourself grieve. This one is important. Your life as you know it is forever changed and you will most likely never see your loved ones again. Which is fucking bleak. You have NO idea how much I cried in my first, what, half year after falling?? And even after that?? Because I was devastated. It’s fine to feel like shit. It’s a shitty situation. It sucks. Grief comes in waves and sometimes it just fucking bowls you over and you drown in it and you just have to deal with it and it sucks. Sorry.

Try to make new friends. Related to my last point, you’re gonna want a support system. You’ve just gone through a traumatic experience. Like, that’s hard to go through alone.

Once you think you’re stable enough, learn about where you are. More than you already have atp because it’ll let you discover wonderful things like an awful cave to not go into or a cute little café where you can find happiness or a concert hall where there’s an orchestra playing every Tuesday and sometimes they have plays or musicals. Yknow? Try to become familiar with where you live even if it hurts. Find little happy things. It helps with the uh. Grief.

Good fucking luck being a faller is hard and it’s so fucking rough but it gets better. Like all things like this it gets better. You’ll find your place.

[redux-iterum]

this might be silly to ask here, but i think you guys give neat advice! i don't know if either of you have experienced this yourselves, but if you have, how do you get over writing anxiety? i find that i place too much value in validation and will sometimes talk myself out of writing something because i fear it's imperfect. is this something either of you have dealt with? if so, how did you get over it?

Perfectionist anxiety is a bitch, and this very much sounds like it! The main piece of advice I can give here is to embrace the truth that things you make sometimes won’t be amazing, and will never be perfect. Perfection is a lie creatives tell themselves is achievable. It simply isn’t. All perfectionism can do is keep you from being happy during the process of making art. It will never do anything else. The concept of “perfect” is your enemy. It’s just going to make you miserable the whole time you’re writing or painting or whatever, because you know what you’ll get isn’t perfect, and you’re striving for it anyway, so you aren’t having fun. And really, that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? Fun?

The main thing that’s saved me from reworking stuff over and over again is a lesson I’ve learned, which is being able to say to yourself, “Well, it’s not exactly how I wanted it to be. I don’t know if I like this one. Oh well. Moving on.” There is an immense power in “oh well, moving on” that will keep you creating even when you make something you actively hate. That’s not to say you shouldn’t strive for improvement, nor should you not attempt to do your best. What the goal here is, is the ability to step back from your need for perfection, look over what you’ve made, and be able to both critique it and accept its flaws, and then head off to the next thing. “Fuck it” is your greatest tool here. Ain’t the next Lord of the Rings? Fuck it. Next story.

Take it this way: you’ve learned something new every time you catch a flaw in your writing, which means you’ll do better next time. You are always scaling up in quality as long as you’re seeking to improve. Again, you will never be perfect, but you will be better than you were before. That’s something to celebrate, not scold yourself for! And the only way to do that is to say “fuck it” and keep writing. You can’t think yourself into greatness. You have to create okay stuff first and learn from those mistakes.

As for validation: attention from strangers is nice, but there’s a good exposure therapy in posting something and receiving crickets over and over. You get used to it and gradually learn to lessen its value in your head. I’ve personally been able to adjust to not getting much attention on my personal projects and art that I love so dearly, and just moving forward anyways, because I’m excited to do it, and that’s whose opinion I should care about. It’s the love of the game at this point for me. Importantly, it’s been able to teach me to find the true value in art, which is the process of creation, not the creation itself. I utterly adore making things, to the point that I don’t even really care about the end product anymore or the attention it may or may not get. Sure, I want it to be good and get notes, but what’s the point if I’m not enjoying myself while making it? What’s the value in perfection and attention when I’m miserable because that's all I'm doing this for? I’m the one that loves these characters and this setting the most, right? What else can I do but serve them as best as I can, and keep going as long as I need to? It's no loss if the entire internet doesn't love it the way I do. I'm creating it, and that makes me happy. What else need there be?

That’s how I think of it, at least. I hope this helped a little.

[traegorn]

Ah so it’s the Lilith Discourse time of the year... Just wanted to say that as a Jewish person I appreciate you speaking about this and I’m sorry people are The Worst about it to you. You don’t deserve all the stupid shit people are saying. I hope you’re having a good day!

Never worry about me on this kind of thing. If anonymous weirdos on the internet were capable of hurting my feelings, I would have gotten offline immediately back in 1994. 😆

The Lilith Discourse is mostly just do dumb. Every step in her origin in folklore is well documented, and we know exactly where she comes from.

I figure the witchcraft community has a responsibility to deconstruct harmful behaviors that have been endemic to the movement since the beginning, and if I can just tank a little so Jewish people don't have to deal with these folks, I should.

Also I honestly enjoy smacking someone down with actual facts sometimes too. Like it's deeply satisfying.

[demonslayedher]

What even is Kimetsu no Yaiba canon???

Good question, that's why I've done all this digging. But I've also been asked a lot about what officially released material is and is not considered canon. I am but one nerd on the internet and no authority on that and my attitude is that you should take and pick what you want to use in fan work, because it's yours. However, in a lot of my fics I love trying to stick to canon, and that also means trying to incorporate a lot of official material that Gotouge did not personally provide.

So instead of saying "this is canon, that is not canon," here is my tier list. This is especially relevant when you have two officially released materials that contradict each other. The manga has been self-contradictory too, so if you sweat too many small details, your fan work will never get done.

God-touge Tier: Content Penned by the Gator 1. The actual manga chapters, for this may be all someone has ever followed in the Shonen Jump magazines, and therefore they have no other context 2. All other material published in the 23 volumes, including Taisho Secrets, 4-panel comics, and expanded epilogue chapters 3. The two official fanbooks (also referred to by the fandom as under names like the databooks or encyclopedias), which are widely available in Japan, and (as I understand) have been at least partially translated into an official English version 4. Additional material provided for special events, like the Gotouge gallery and Mugen Ressha movie booklet for early showings (these have included Taisho Secrets not printed elsewhere)

Extremely Influential Tier: The Ufotable Anime Content 1. Ufotable's interpretation of the manga (except in cases when it contradicts Gotouge material, though these are slight, like animating a scene in the wrong season) in the TV episodes and movies as they first aired, including filler scenes based on but not found in Gotouge material (like the paper airplane contest) 2. Additional content Ufotable added later (like extra scenes for when the first arc was re-aired on Fuji TV) 3. Filler content only loosely based on the manga (like the Rengoku special)

Also Very Highly Regarded Tier: Official In-Universe Spin-Offs On the Same Shelves at Japanese Bookstores (none written by Gotouge) 1. The Tomioka and Rengoku Gaidens (except in cases when it contradicts Gotouge material, like how Rengoku got that hair color) 2. The light novels 3. Novelizations of the manga Like High-Quality Fanfiction: More Ufotable and Shueisha Content 1. Drama CDs produced by Ufotable (often just little side stories and character exploration, not major stories) 2. Kimetsu Academy, a.k.a. the official AU Spin-Off, and by extension, the "Total Concentration Drill" books that are a spin-off of the Kimetsu Academy spin-off 3. Additional art books and design books (though these are usually very careful to not introduce anything new, and merely reflect content already shown elsewhere) 4. Sometimes I am really tempted to put the Rengoku special all the way down here

Official material which I do not consider to have any baring on canon whatsoever, but which are simply fun and nice: 1. Any form of live stage performance (the musicals, the voice actors reading from scripts, concerts, the Noh adaptations, etc.) 2. Galleries like Zenshuuchuu-ten (though these usually stay entirely based on material already introduced in anime canon) 3. Tie-in collaborations 4. Any form of official sanctioned parody created by someone other than Gotouge (like the 4-panel comics compiled into a volume with the Gaidens) 5. Commentary from the directors, voice actors, etc.

Unofficial material which is fun for expanding on things but has zero baring on canon, nor should it have any influence on what the aforementioned officially sanctioned creators do with it: 1. Books that nerds have published with Kimetsu no Yaiba analysis while teaching fun facts about the Taisho period and demons and such (this is a bit of a trend in Japan, and maybe other countries have publications unabashedly capitalizing on the KnY trend) 2. Fans who create meta and headcanons 3. Fans who create fanwork out of love for the series, regardless of whether or not they stick to canon Things that make me say "nope" 1. Low-effort articles and videos that get the facts wrong 2. Fans who spread rumors by claiming something is canon, but that something is reflected nowhere in the aforementioned top four tiers 3. Anything AI-generated

[bladespark]

I feel like I have to push back on some of the above a little bit. Not that any of it's wrong, exactly, but it's just half the story. Let me share the other half with you.

There's an inevitable nostalgia for "simpler times," but although I ABSOLUTELY know what the above people are saying, and I'm VERY glad I got to, say, go to school without fearing school shootings, as a queer trans man, I want to point out that my "innocent nostalgic" youth was when the generation of queer elders that should be maturing into their leadership lives right now, retired and with time to campaign for politicians, attend school board meetings, speak up for LGBT+ issues at town halls etc., well... My "simpler youth" was the time when all those folks were dying of AIDS.

Things get worse, sometimes. They're pretty bad right now. Things also get better. Trans youth now are facing federal restrictions on their ability to get gender affirming care, but when I was a "youth" trans youth had almost no options at all. We had no education resources, no community unless you were REALLY LUCKY and also lived somewhere urban, No ANYTHING. I'm not saying this to shit on how hard it is right now. I'm struggling as I've never struggled in my life right now! But in the "better" 80s when I was a kid, in a small town, before the internet, with parents who wouldn't even say the word "gay" just vaguely mention "perversions" sometimes, back then I was a "tomboy" and a "horsegirl" and I had no ability to even contemplate that any option other than "Girl, just...different somehow?" existed. My parents grew up in a time when separate drinking fountains and back seats on busses and all that shit was totally normal and just how life was for POC, too. "We've never been so divided" I hear people say. Like shit we haven't. The civil war? Literal race-based chattel slavery? "No Irish need apply"? That's also in the past, even if the ghosts of it still haunt us.

Things sometimes get worse. I won't lie about that.

Things also get better. Don't let anybody lie to you about that either.

I don’t know how to explain this well…but I’m 30 years old and I feel like I’ve had to ‘sacrifice’ my entire adult life to unprecedented times, the pandemic and daily anxiety over hateful politicians and whatever rights they want to take away on any given day and I’m just so fucking tired

[deservedgrace]

"I don't think the ~autumn girlies~ understand how debilitating seasonal depression is 😮‍💨"

Me, an "autumn girlie" with summer seasonal depression: 😐😐😐😐😐

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I’m going to take away your media literacy skills

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

God I wish I actually Tiktokked so I knew who to follow to see what all the influencers who made eleventh-hour confessions of faking their content are doing now

[jestroer]

I love being a part of hermitcraft fandom, not a single normal person in sight, I think sometimes am i being too weird and then i see my mutual being absolutely fucking insane on dash and think ah no im fine actually 

[ganondoodle]

sometimes i wish i was one of those artist that make people go "this is a PAINTING???" or "with WHAT programm/medium???" but its just not what i can do or find fun :/

[theinheriteddutchess]

It's so sad! 😭😭

I might not agree with everything they wrote and that could be a personal preference, but also sometimes they were just simply lacking. It could have been better it could have been deeper. But getting criticism is a big part of it. People tend to feel a lot about something they like. Because they care.

Don't say anything or I'll tell my mommy! You are professional writers! You're adults.i wanted to say you're grown men, but yeah actually... That's way too common.

Is the critism only bad feelings and disappointment because we didn't get our way? Or is it because it's obvious it could have been different and so much better?

Anyway it's sad that these writers show lack of humor😭😭 since they were responsible for the humor in the show.

And also "we didn't criticize we went outside" 😭😭😭 .... Older fanboys are famous for ranting and hating throughout time, wtf you mean? Before internet there were those newsletters and whatever pamflets made to spread. People came together to talk about things.

There saying a lot of words to say "please don't hurt us because it's making us sad" then just say that, which would be less sad than whatever this is.

Oh god, why is this making me feel better?? They're just whiny boys complaining no one liked their fanfic (which it is, because it's not the original so stop acting like this is the realest version). At least you got paid for it.

...so anyway , hoping for more fanfic in the future, for and by us lol

I'm sorry, but this is SO sad!

"Pwease don't criticize our show we're just soft bois" WHAT ARE YOU CLOWNS DOING YOU'RE GROWN ASS MEN!?

People are going to have opinions about art you make. Are some of them over-the-top and disrespectful? Absolutely, because people suck.

But also how many of us have expressed our disappointment about elements of a show we like BECAUSE WE LIKE IT?!

I already think very little of these men but this was just the icing on the cake.

Also if you have to put (Funny Version) in the title of your video it's quite possibly a sign that you're not funny and should take this down

[sleepyyghostt]

we should call it "Going on the computer" like with that type of wording again. bring back the fun and novelty of it that i, at least, really felt when i was younger. existing in an online space is the type of thing that can kinda be whatever you want, so u gotta treat it the way that you want it to be :3

I'm going to go on the internet! [implied sense of adventure] see?

[crabussy]

IS ANYONE ELSE FEELING KIND TODAY!!! IS ANYONE ELSE FEELING GENEROUS TOWARDS OTHER PEOPLE!!! IS ANYBODY ELSE BEING KIND AND TRYING TO UNDERSTAND EVEN WHEN ITS HARD!!! IS ANYONE ELSE ASSUMING THE BEST OF OTHERS INTENTIONS AND RESPONDING IN KIND!!!! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME