#bluh posting

[kartrap]

watched gomburza and i honestly cried , idk thinking abt how the filipino identity isn't based on anything really positive , filipino isn't a race or a shared culture or even really like a language until as recently as the 1940s , being filipino is based on oppression and the struggle against it , to be filipino is to be born of these islands and made to inherit its curses and misfortunes , colonialism and hardship , the commonality of suffering is what bridged ppl who were previously divided by ethnicity and even class , anyway this gives me a pt2 essay idea on why the only way to get filipinos to politically support smth is if they are able to identify "the suffering christ" in ur political movement

[lichfucker]

your friends don't hate you. do you hate your friends? I'm not friends with people I hate. I don't talk to them, I don't spend time with them, I don't call them my friends. I don't have the time or energy for fake friendships. why would I assume other people do?

your friends don't hate you. your friends aren't lying to you. if they are, then stop being friends with them. if someone hates you, you're not going to change their mind by diminishing yourself and putting yourself down. you're not going to make them love you by being obsequious. if they're annoyed by you being earnest, they're also going to be annoyed by you being ironically detached. so fuck 'em. that's their problem. it shouldn't stop you from being earnest— it should stop you from being friends with them.

your friends don't hate you. they don't find you overbearing. they hate seeing you flagellate yourself for breathing. they don't hate being told you love them. why would they hate that? who hates hearing that they're loved? do YOU hate when your friends say they love you? no? then don't assume they do.

your friends don't hate you. stop assuming your friends are callous and cold and two-faced. have they actually PROVED themselves to be callous and cold and two-faced? because if they have, then you should stop being friends with them. but if you love them so much you're choking on it, they're probably not. they're probably kind and warm and genuine. that's why you love them, isn't it?

your friends don't hate you. the paradox of a friendship so volatile that you can love them with your whole heart but if you tell them that then their opinion of you will immediately and irrevocably be poisoned is not real and will make you sick. to assume the worst about your friends is a weird way to think of someone you love. it's a weird way to love them. they're in your life because you want them to be— don't you think you're in theirs because they feel the same?

your friends don't hate you. your friends don't hate you. your friends don't hate you.

[lilcowzia]

what are elbows anyway? 🐶

[badlydrawnmeulin]

[presumenothing]

so we all know the drill, yeah? my keyboard slipped etc etc and thus i present: 吉祥纹莲花楼 aka LOTUS CASEBOOK (the novel) CHAPTER ONE: TASTER EDITION further aka "the first chapter, but minus the Case Exposition bit because wow noooope". note also that this is not as serious nor thoroughly-edited as some of my other TLs (nif fandom alumni may remember me from known, unknown aka this absolute unit/research spiral of a post-canon fic; this is Not That and also, hi!!). and now with that out of the way, enjoy! ETA: fixed some missing bits that got eaten while posting to tumblr + only maybe 30% on-topic footnotes over here

PART THE FIRST: A GHOST, MURDER, IN THE GREEN GAUZE WINDOW

Changzhou City, Xiaomian Inn.

The seventeenth of the sixth month, just around midnight.

It had been two days since Cheng Yunhe, the head convoy of Hexing Convoy Company, started escorting these sixteen boxes of precious goods. Though all had been well so far, he felt tight-strung with exhaustion, and despite having fallen asleep he woke up without quite knowing why.

Silence permeated the dark room.

Outside the window… there was singing.

Faint waves of sound, barely discernible, as if someone was singing; and apparently quite in earnest, too, but in an incredibly odd tone… just as if… someone was singing with their tongue cut out. 

He opened his eyes, and looked at the window directly across from his bed.

Amidst the darkness, green flecks flickered dim and sudden across that window, now far then near, and only on this one window across from him.

Outside the window, the faraway song continued, that broken tongue singing a tragic melody that no-one living could possibly understand…

He’d already practised almost forty years of martial arts, and though his hearing and sight might not be the top in the jianghu, it could hardly be weak either, but he… could not make out the sound of anything human.

As the wind whistled through the slightly-ajar window, he stared at that window with its flickering green shadows – and for the very first time in his life, he thought of a word – ghosts?

–

ONE: LUCKY PATTERN LOTUS PARLOUR

The broad daylight of a sunny day.

Bingshan Town was not a remarkable place by any means; it had neither rare treasure nor great legends, and just like the vast majority of places in the jianghu, its denizens were a little boring, its crops a tad skinny, its rivers a tinge dirty, and its post-meal conversational topics a touch lacking… far too lacking, actually, so whenever there was something everyone had to delight in it for the longest time – not to mention how that recent happening was an odd one indeed.

The tale so far: on this day, the eighteenth of the month, when the people of Bingshan Town opened their doors to sweep their stoops, they abruptly found that their only-too-familiar main street had suddenly sprouted a two-storey wooden building. This building was hardly a short one, either, fully capable of housing people inside, and in spacious lodgings no less; it was made fully of wood, and engraved with patterns unusually fine and ornate, that even a blind person could recognise by touch – none other than lotus flowers and auspicious clouds.

After a good half-day’s worth of discussion, some eagle-eyed people recognised at last how this building had “suddenly appeared”: though its structure was that of a building, it turned out that it was not connected to the ground… at any rate, this building had been pulled by someone with a cart, here to the main street of their Bingshan Town, and put it there. Everyone expressed their amazement at this, but nobody could comprehend why anyone would bother dragging over such a large building in the dead of night just to leave it on the street, or what it could possibly be for. Perhaps as a shrine for their town god? Though speaking of which, their local shrine had indeed fallen into disrepair and gone unworshipped for many years now…

Such debate continued for three days straight, up until an express convoy working at some company who happened to be coming home was struck dumbfounded upon seeing it, screeched “The Lucky Parlour!” and there and then turned to run madly away without even returning home, still yelling “Lucky Parlour!” along the way – and thus the building abruptly became a haunted house, that would drive anyone who saw it right mad.

Only seven days later, when that express convoy suddenly brought the entire convoy company back to Bingshan Town, did the masses discover that said building was not in fact some haunted house. 

Not only was it not a haunted house, it was actually an auspicious building, a super-duper auspicious building. 

The “Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour” was a medical clinic.

Its master was of surname Li, named Lianhua.

What kind of a person was Li Lianhua? As a matter of fact, nobody in the jianghu knew either. Whether his master, his background, the level of his martial arts, his age, or even the matter of his looks: all of it was unknown. Six years had passed since this person appeared in the jianghu, and in total he’d done only two things, but just these two things alone had been enough to turn the “Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour” into the single most fascinating legend in the jianghu.

The two things Li Lianhua had done: the first was bringing back to life the martial scholar “Lifelong Learner” Shi Wenjue, who’d been buried for many days after dying from major injuries after a decisive duel. The second was bringing back to life “Ironflute Hero” He Lantie, who’d also been buried for many days with all his bones broken after dying from a cliff fall.

Just these two incidents alone had already made Li Lianhua the one figure in the jianghu that people most wanted to acquaint themselves with, but there was also the matter of his strange house that he always brought along with him – this only made Li Lianhua more of a legend amongst legends.

The head convoy of Hexing Convoy Company led every last one of his men on swift horseback to Bingshan Town, and after three days of clean baths and devout incense, finally delivered on great tenterhooks a letter of greeting to that building carved of precious softwood: Cheng Yunhe of Hexing Convoy Company wishes to consult on an important matter.

Said letter was pushed in via a window gap.

All forty-odd men of the company waited alongside Cheng Yunhe, as if it was the King of Hell inside of that building, passing judgement––

Soon after, that building that had been so silent as to seem unoccupied let out the faintest of creaking sounds. All of Hexing Convoy held their breath, and even the rubbernecking passers-by caught theirs, too, widening their eyes to better await whatever creature could possibly emerge from this building.

The door swung swiftly open, and not in the slow swing of everyone’s imagination.

A large cloud of dust burst forth with a bang, blowing all over Cheng Yunhe, and the figure in the door made a sound of dismay, saying with great apology: “I was tidying up odds and ends, and didn’t even realise I had guests, my apologies, apologies indeed.”

All of Hexing Convoy, now covered in dust and sawdust, stared in astonishment at the one who’d opened the door with a broom in one hand; the very same broom where that bright red greeting letter was now stuck on. He looked very young, no older than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and perhaps even a little younger than that if not for the much-mended grey robes he was wearing; his skin was fair and his looks refined, but neither was he so beautifully handsome as to be unforgettable from a glance. He held the broom in his right hand and a dustpan in his left, and looked out at the dozens-strong line outside his door with a face full of apology.

Cheng Yunhe gave a heavy cough, and saluted in greeting: “I, “Thousand-Mile Crane” Cheng Yunhe, humbly greet Li-xiansheng of the Lucky Parlour; may I perhaps request that you pass a message to him that there is a matter I wish to consult him on?”

“Ah,” said the grey-robed young man. “A message?”

Cheng Yunhe spoke gravely: “I fear we must meet with Li Lianhua, Li-xiansheng himself, for there is crucial business to discuss.”

The young man set down the broom. “I am indeed Li Lianhua.”

Cheng Yunhe’s eyes widened abruptly, mouth falling open, and in that moment every last bystander wanted nothing more than to toss three or five eggs into his mouth. Very swiftly he shut it again, and gave another heavy cough. “Your good reputation precedes you, Li-xiansheng…” 

And then he found himself at a loss on how to continue, for he had already detailed the ins and outs of the matter on the greeting letter, but that same letter was now stuck on Li Lianhua’s broom.

Li Lianhua said: “Apologies, apologies… my residence is covered in clutter at the moment…”

He raised a hand to invite Cheng Yunhe inside.

The Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour was indeed covered in assorted junk; from nails to hammer, saw to axe, dustcloths to broom, sawdust and dust everywhere, and a few boxes holding who-knew-what. The front room held only one table and chair each, both made of bamboo and not worth even twenty bronze coins. Cheng Yunhe felt heavy doubt in his heart, but what with the sheer reputation of the Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour, and this grey-robed man to be sitting in it, he dared not to suspect him to be a fake, either; and thus he was left with no choice but to sit respectfully across from Li Lianhua and recount every part of those fearsome events he’d encountered a half-month ago.

[––CASE EXPOSITION CUT FOR SANITY––]

Such was the tale of the “Green Window Ghost Murder” that had thrown the martial world into heated debate over the last half a month. Yu Mulan, heartbroken over the senseless death of his beloved daughter, flew into a rage and commanded the death of all the swordsmen who had been escorting Yu Qiushuang that night, alongside a kill order for the entirety of Hexing Convoy Company. Cheng Yunhe, pushed to his wits’ end, had been about to bring his family and disband the company for a scattered escape when he heard the news of the Lucky Parlour.

Li Lianhua could bring the dead back to life – and so Cheng Yunhe suddenly thought: if Li Lianhua could resurrect Yu Qiushuang, wouldn’t that resolve everything? Resurrection was not something he would have ever believed in, just a half-month ago, but with matters the way they were now he could only work with what he had, dead or otherwise, and since the heavens had seen fit to let him come across Li Lianhua, why not give it a try? After all… if the legends were true, all could not but be well.

But even until he’d finished recounting the “Green Window Ghost Murder” incident, he hadn’t heard any startling insights out of Li Lianhua, only an ah and a nod of his head.

After finishing his tea, Cheng Yunhe had no choice but to leave. He truly could not think of any good reason to remain any longer in that empty building of Li Lianhua’s, full of assorted junk and Li Lianhua’s expression full of gentle incomprehension. 

Cheng Yunhe departed.

From the second storey of the Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour, someone said, leisurely: “Even five years later, you’re still plenty famous, aren’t you…”

Li Lianhua sat on the chair, drinking tea. “Ah…”

Who even knew what he was ah-ing about.

“Actually I’ve never been able to figure it out.” That figure descended slowly from the second storey. He was thin and pale, all skin and bones, and perhaps if he gained twenty pounds he’d be a elegantly beautiful young man, but as it stood he mostly just resembled a victim of starvation. Yet this particular hungry corpse also happened to be wearing a set of rich white robes of particularly meticulous workmanship, with the tassel and jade ornaments favoured only by those fine young masters untouched by worldly troubles, and a long sword with an unusually elegant shape to its hilt. “How could anyone in this world possibly believe in something like resurrection? It’s been five whole years, and yet nobody has forgotten those two scandals of yours…”

“Because none of them are as smart as you.” Li Lianhua smiled faintly, stood up to stretch, then picked up his broom and resumed sweeping the floor.

“Can you not sweep the floor?” The hungry corpse from the upper storey suddenly glared. “How can you possibly keep sweeping when I, the great Fang-dagongzi, am here right in front of you? Do you realise that if Cheng Yunhe had known I was in here just now, he’d definitely kneel down and beg me too ask that old geezer Yu not to slaughter his entire family? You have a young master of my handsome looks and eminent status in front of you, and yet you’ve been doing nothing but sweep the floor?"

“I can’t.” Li Lianhua said: “I haven’t cleaned and repaired this building in too long. It’s very dirty, and leaks when it rains, too.”

The white-robed corpse kept up the wide-eyed glaring for many moments longer, before suddenly letting out a sigh. “Someone like you who can’t fight and can’t treat diseases, who doesn’t plant crops or commit theft either – how have you even managed to survive all these years in such fame? I really don’t get it.” 

This white-robed hungry corpse was “Melancholic Young Master” Fang Duobing, the eldest son of the of the Fang martial family. He’d known Li Lianhua for an entire six years, long enough that he even knew exactly how this same person had come to fame – Shi Wenjue had suffered major injuries in his duel and used the Turtle’s Breath method to close his qi and recover, the local villagers had taken him for dead and buried him, Li Lianhua had gone to dig him up, and thus Shi Wenjue had naturally come back to life; He Lantie, on the other hand, had staged an entire cliff jump after failing in his pursuit of a wife, played dead and buried himself in the ground, and Li Lianhua who’d just happened to be passing by dug him out yet again. The whole world was wondering how Li Lianhua had managed to bring the dead back to life, while all Fang Duobing wanted to know was how he knew where on earth (or under it) there’d be a live person to dig up.

“I did still have some silver coins, a while ago.” Li Lianhua carefully swept the front room, then put away the dustpan. “As long as you plan well, you can still make do.”

Fang Duobing rolled his eyes. “And how much silver do you have now?”

“Fifty taels.” Li Lianhua smiled faintly. “That’s enough to use for a lifetime, to me.”

Fang Duobing tsked. “To think that there’s losers like you in the martial world, who only plan to spend fifty taels in their whole life, it’s practically a shame upon the jianghu. Had Cheng Yunhe known what kind of person you are, I’d like to see whether he still would’ve come asking for help… heh, asking a ‘miracle doctor’ who doesn’t know a drop of medicine and has to go everywhere with his house on his back because he’s too stingy to stay in an inn, to go treat the dead, I can’t believe he thought of that.” Fang Duobing rolled his eyes again for good measure, and eyed Li Lianhua up and down. “Though I can’t actually tell whether you are going to help him go treat the dead or not.”

Li Lianhua sat on the chair, fingers still meticulously fiddling away with the interlocking joint on that squeaky bamboo table of his, and gave a small smile upon hearing this. “Why wouldn’t I go? After all, I don’t know how to plant crops, or sell vegetables, and I’m not in want of coin. Wouldn’t life be incredibly boring if I didn’t have something to do?”

“When that old geezer Yu finds out that you’re a fake miracle doctor and decides to kill your entire family, Fang-dagongzi is absolutely not going to save you,” Fang Duobing said, leisurely. “Go on then, don’t expect this young master here to see you off.”

And so it was that Li Lianhua spent a whole three days tidying up inside the Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour, packing who-knows-what into that small parcel of his, and after meticulously writing a lengthy missive temporarily entrusting the parlour to the care of “Lifelong Learner” Shi Wenjue, he set off at last.

He was headed to Yu Fortress, to see the corpse of Yu Qiushuang.

[necoarcdaily]

ok, lowblood tileset complete i guess? i tried basing it off of the backgrounds of friendsim and karkat's hive

let me know if there's stuff you think i should add to it

[methylphenidate-already-taken]

Fuck I gotta do a pinned post now that I’ve changed my name ig

Who:

You may know me as Guiltydyslexicteen. I am no longer a teen, however. Still dyslexic and full of guilt tho

A vore Tumblr vet, survived two purges.

Sfw vore blog.

Idc who interacts with me as long as you’re not hateful and you’re not a MAP.

What:

Just random shit. No consistency. Only vibes.

Enjoy, interact, send asks, vore eachother idfk

And remember!!! I owe you nothing!!! This is MY blog!!! Mine!!

^ I’m saying this for my sake. Not yours. I’m too much of a people pleaser.

Ao3

[madokasoratsugu]

a gambling manga can be so homoerotic and weave the fate of two men together so intricately their meeting and deaths at each other's hands can only be called destiny

[invaderziin727]

[skeppsbrott]

The thing about relational trust is that it doesn't stop being nauseatingly scary trying to navigate relationships without the constant affirmations of what you are doing right or the feedback on what you are doing wrong, but you have to do it, you have to stop trying to force people to give you feedback in a way that tickles your need for affirmation if they are already communicating their needs in ways that make sense for them. You can't play games. You can't try and trick them into loving you in a way that leaves no fear. There will always be fear.

[cvbullshit]

I wanna draw a CV character in the Rabbit Hole Miku outfit but idk who-

[kartrap]

all this time i thought kabru was a beautiful butch lesbian

[lichfucker]

I really hate the idea that likes are useless or don't tell you anything. they tell you somebody liked your post! you did good and somebody liked it so they gave it a like! the constant cries of "only reblogs actually Do something" feels very… hmm, how do I phrase this?

it's rooted in a sort of warning that tumblr functions differently than other sites in that the number of likes on a post doesn't necessarily contribute to an algorithm that pushes forward certain content (algorithms which, tbh, create a weird sort of feedback loop in which content that is already popular becomes even more popular by getting boosted on the merits of already being popular, but I digress), and so reblogging is the only way to actually spread a post. likes don't make a post "breach containment."

but if likes are equivalent to "positive emotional response" and reblogs are equivalent to "exposure," then discouraging likes in favor of reblogs is discouraging enjoyment of your post in favor of promotion of your post. okay... why? to what end? if the only "correct" mode of engagement is an expanding fractal web of reblogs, and the point of a reblog is only to beget further reblogs... what's the goal?

you've deemed the like as an expression of pleasure useless, so it's kind of difficult to argue that "reblogging a post means they enjoyed it more than if they'd just simply liked it." the quantity of pleasure expressed doesn't matter if you've already devalued the concept of "expressing pleasure and doing nothing else." you can't earnestly say "expressing pleasure is important to me but only if it's accompanied by exposure." so your goal isn't for more people to delight in your content; it's for more people to see your content, and for each of them then to make even more people see your content in turn. and so on. infinitely. just sharing. just exposure.

is that how we got to this point wherein people are genuinely writing essays about how liking a post is actually a backhanded passive-aggressive insult? you think I click the little red heart because I hate you? the logic is so contorted. it relies on the assumption that everyone around you is operating in bad faith, that everyone's intentions are bad until proven good.

what a bitter, paranoid way to live.

[rexscanonwife]

Tell us your headcanons for your s/i :3

Thank you anon!! 🫶🫶🫶 I appreciate having an excuse to talk about it cause ofc I've been doing a lot of thinking about her alien species as a whole as well as how she's adjusted to living on earth as a human! (divider by @/bunnysrph)

So to begin with, I think there's not a lot of culture surrounding her species, or at least if there was it's long gone because in order to preserve themselves they've assimilated with so many OTHER cultures from across the galaxy!

Similarly to sea turtles, when they're hatched (yes from eggs) it's at a specific spot in the far reaches of space all alone where they spend a lot of time fending for themselves before they find the opportunity to go off on their own in search of a true home.

When they find somewhere suitable (sometimes it can take a few tries, depending on their preferences) that's when the assimilation process begins! They start by shape-shifting to fit into the local population, then they learn as much about the local culture as they can before choosing a mate and reproducing.

They're biologically compatible with pretty much any sentient species in the galaxy, hence 😂 like a ditto!

They're actually not born with typical gender markers but they can choose to have them later in life depending on what's needed! Or their preferences based on what they choose to present as. :3

Now on to my s/i specifically, she tried a few other planets before landing on earth, but she didn't find them all that interesting.

When she did, one of the first things she saw was an electronics store, broadcasting a news report on an unidentified female body: a Jane Doe. Leading her to take on the name, initially believing that it was the title for any human female.

Despite what you'd think, she's actually not completely clueless about earth culture, having lived on the planet for about a good 20 years before meeting Utonium and the girls. She's gotten pretty good at appearing normal (masking metaphor lol) but there's just something about her that some may see as a little....well, unusual!

She's fascinated with things that most people don't normally think about, the strange, the macabre, and she's usually looking for a reason to talk about either which leads people to be a little offput bg her, but she's definitely very kind and compassionate. Sometimes even overly so!

Honestly kind of lives in her own little bubble of experiences but is open to new ones and is always trying to expand it!

Has definitely dated before but never really connected with anyone on the same level as Utonium when they meet 🥺🫶

And that's all for now!! Thank you so much again for your ask!

[halcified]

id pop a clip here but theres a scene in the first episode of season three that i think about a lot, when serizawa and reigen and mob all help a guy who thinks hes being possessed. his girlfriend left him, he's balding, his home is a wreck and his family has cut contact, the whole nine yards. i don't remember if he's actually possessed, but it doesn't matter, because in any other show it would be easy to laugh at this character we dont know and move on. but thats the thing-- that explicitly Doesn't happen

these are their reactions. serizawa already serves the purpose of showing us, the audience, who mob might have turned out to be if he didn't have the same positive influences in his life, like a mogami!mob who got to grow up. except that these characters aren't just warnings. serizawa gets to change, and if there's a character who serves as a warning to him, they are able to sympathized with, too. reigen is comfortable with dismissing this guy but that's juxtaposed by how genuinely mob and serizawa relate to him

so now it's significant that this side character is sympathetic, because

a) it shows that mob and serizawa are self aware characters who can see what they want to improve on vs. embody from other people and

b) it enforces the same theme that this show has portrayed repeatedly. its such a small moment that encapsulates this themes perfectly, whether thats with teru, with mogami, with reigen, with serizawa, with touichirou, with mob himself. no matter how far gone you are, it isn't too late to turn things around

[nihonium-art]

Mr. Steal ya name. And pronounces.