#and i won't apologise

[uselessnbee]

i see so many people saying how S1 Mike jumped off of a cliff for Dustin but S4 Mike would never and that's why they hate him and

just

like yes he's an asshole but that doesn't mean he would let his friends die without doing anything that's just plain stupid. he still cares about his friends so so much

or i see poeple saying that if this same scenario would happen now he wouldn't jump but would try to resolve it with words and like would that be so wrong????

this boy has seen so much death these past few years. they all did

if he said "no i will not kill myself just because some stupid bully who needs to harm others to feel better about himself told me to" i would fucking cheer him on

he would still do anything for his friends but if he would decide not to meaninglessly throw away his life in the process then you really can't blame him after all they've been through because now he knows what death looks like, he knows what it's like to see poeple die, he knows what it's like to survive and try to pick up the pieces and it wouldn't make him a bad person

(and anyways i still believe that Mike still would die for his friends yall just find anything to hate him for even if it's not canon)

[modmad]

TPoH: Update!

The Property of Hate is a web comic which updates on Sundays (health allowing)

Read TPoH from the start here.

Update here on the TPoH website!

Thank you all for the kind and loving support! If you want to buy books of this comic YOU CAN!! Find books of TPoH and more here in the TPoH Topatoco shop, or tell your friends about it!

If you like TPoH and my other work, please consider supporting me on Patreon, even just one or two dollars a month helps!

[shegoeshometoacactuss]

not to be insane but

[positivelyadhd]

The most insidious thing about depression I think is that it makes you believe that it will always be there and nothing will change.

But I promise you,, that's not true.

There are still things in the world that will bring you joy, even if it's just for a moment.

Your favourite parts of the world are still there, even if you can't see them.

There's also a million other parts of life to fall in love with that you haven't met yet.

Collect those things and moments like trinkets as you find them and keep them in reach when you need them. If you can't find them, go looking for more.

I know it seems impossible but I promise you'll feel even the tiniest bit better someday and it's worth everything to hang on for <3

[gimmeurtmi]

for the headcanon thing…..

jus 2min eating reader out pls pls pls 🥺🥺

this is the second 2min eating reader out request i have and so... i couldn't not. i hope you like it <3

you're not sure how your boyfriends bickering over what to have for dinner escalated to you on your back and seungmin's head between your legs--but that's exactly where you are, gasping for air as seungmin's tongue flicks your clit in quick, eager motions.

his lung capacity is admirable, really, because he hasn't pulled away once.

"seung, i, i'm--" but before you can warn him he pulls away, latching his lips around the sensitive spot in your inner thigh. you squirm around, trying to push him off while you tell him, "what the fuck, i was so close."

"so why are you pushing me?" he looks up at you, eyebrows high and smirk wide. you hate how infuriating he can be, especially when he starts peppering kisses away from where you want him to be. he's all the way down to your knee, spreading the other one so you can't even try and get any friction.

"why are you like this," you whine loudly.

"because hyung told me to move," seungmin says, simply.

you flick your eyes up, to where minho is sitting--waiting--an unbearable smirk on his face.

"didn't you hear it?"

"n-no.." you stutter. you quickly catch yourself, hoisting yourself up on your elbows before looking back at seungmin. "since when do you listen to him, anyway?"

minho laughs loudly, his eyes scrunching as it trails off into a soft 'ah'. when he calms down he locks his eyes with yours, telling you quite clearly that your game isn't gonna work on either one of them.

"well," you huff when you realise seungmin really didn't catch your bait, "if you moved him can you at least come here and make me cum?"

"you're very brave today," minho points out, but crawls over to you nonetheless. he licks your entrance softly, the sensation making you shudder as you gasp.

he keeps going, small little licks and nothing more, as seungmin wraps an arm around your thigh and holds it. he goes back to peppering kisses around your skin, up your stomach, around your hips, until minho groans loudly when their heads bump together.

you would laugh, but the vibrations feel too good and it sounds more like a moan than anything else.

"this is why i said we can't do it at the same time," minho scoffs, pulling away completely. you're about to protest, but seungmin hurriedly takes his place as he wraps his lips around your clit quickly.

he sucks in, ripping a moan out of your throat. "fuck! seung!"

minho grabs your hips, pulling them up, and places two pillows underneath you. it's not much, but it gives them a little more space and after minho moves seungmin to the side (luckily, his lips are latched onto you) he manages to find enough space to lick his tongue into your entrace again.

they both keep going, only occasionally bumping into each other--and the feeling is so overwhelming you can't even make a sound. the only sound is your deep breaths, and the suckling and movement of their tongues.

you think you're about to explore, you're definitely shaking already, and all you manage to say a you feel your toes curling is, "i'm gonna, hmph--"

they somehow move even closer to you, and you're sure minho is going to complain about seungmin's chin poking his eyes, but neither of them stops--the sucking and the licking only intensifying as they feel your stomach contracting.

it's a few minutes later when you open your eyes, seungmin's arm around your stomach as he kisses your shoulder in short intervals.

"...and then i said i wasn't going with him to a gaming convention because it's all just words to me and i think he got upset," you hear minho's voice. it's far away, but most things feel far away.

the bed dips, a hand going up and down your knee as they keep talking above you. you let your eyes flutter shut again as seungmin gives minho advice on how to get back on felix's good side, kissing your shoulder in between words.

"how are you two talking about felix right now?" you grumble out as you finally blink your eyes open.

they both turn to look at you, seungmin smiling softly at you.

"oh, shit. i thought we killed you," minho says softly, brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"not yet," you chuckle, but you can still feel your walls fluttering. you've never passed out from an orgasm before, and you can still feel the chills running around your arms.

"damn. let's try again, seungminnie?"

seungmin nods, a huge smile on his face, his bangs moving around. he really is an eager puppy.

"no, no, i can't do that again," you complain, but let your legs fall open anyway. minho laughs when he notices it, rolling his eyes at you before he kisses your clit softly. seungmin gets back on his stomach quickly, turning his head to fit under minho's comfortably enough to go for a second round.

[intheorangebedroom]

More than a feeling

Summary: you like to sing. Frankie likes it too. Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader. Rating: Explicit fluff 🔞  Word count: 570ish A/N: Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡

One thing for certain, an absolute, indisputable fact, is that Frankie loves to hear you sing. 

Sometimes, a classic rock tune you like comes out on the crackling grocery store speakers, and you start singing along out loud, completely unabashed, as you browse the aisles with him. He downright puffs up his chest with pride. Bites down a dimpled smile, he doesn't always know why. You make him so fucking soft… Nobody else needs to know that. 

On Sunday mornings, when he’s cooking breakfast while you’re showering, he tunes in to that radio station you like, and if he’s lucky enough, a song will come out that’ll propel you out of the bedroom halfway through dressing. You’ll dance into the living-room, wearing only his t-shirt, your panties and a sock, hollering over the music and playing air drums, a show that’s not even for his benefit but for your sole enjoyment. But he’ll be damned if that’s not the kind of moment he lives for.

Most often, you quietly hum, absentmindedly, going about the house, doing your stuff. He’ll immediately perk up his ears, pausing whatever it is he’s doing, and just listen. Gaze drifting, a smile tugging the corner of his plush lips. Shoulders dropping from the perpetual tension that pulls them taut. You’re the only one who can do that to him. 

You’re not always on tune, far from it. You don’t always remember the lyrics, not precisely, but your singing voice triggers something in him. Something warm and heavy, something that lives and thrives. A feeling that blooms inside his chest, the sensation fringing on pain, with the way his heart swells, tight against his ribcage. 

It’s the cheerful testimony to what he provides you with -a sense of safety. 

It’s the expression of what you give him in return -your trust. 

But the real treat is when you’re driving together, sitting side by side on the bench seat of his old truck. In the cozy warmth of the cab. Moving through the world, but remote from it, tucked away together, time suspended, irrelevant. That’s when he likes it best.

The music wrapping around the two of you, slightly distorted by the antique cassette player, it sounds like a bike ride after homework, like the last summer sunset, like endless afternoons and his whole life before him. Like a time when he didn’t know you yet but was already looking for you. Like a hopeful sensation after waking from a bittersweet dream. 

He’ll steal sideways glances in your direction as you sing your lungs out, practically dancing in your seat, or tapping your thumbs on the wheel, if you’re driving. 

He’ll relish the moment. Before it turns into something else, something that’s even more, when the whole of your life together becomes greater than the sum of all of its parts.

When he’s finally inside you. When you’re writhing in his hold, melting under his touch. When your taste’s on his tongue and the scent of you heady, when your tight, dripping cunt flutters along his cock. When your throat thrums under his lips and your voice fills his ears, replacing all his thoughts, resonating through his entire fucking chest as you moan and keen and plead. 

Frankie, Frankie, Frankie. 

His name tumbling from your lips, cried out or whispered, as he coaxes release after release from your trembling body. That’s his favourite song of yours. That’s the one he’ll never tire of hearing you sing.

[tashacee]

a special gift for @sapphicseasapphire (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

[magicaldreamfox1]

KINNPORSCHE ANNIVERSARY — WEEK 3: OUTFITS

[cloudravine]

🪷 The Lotus Flower in Mysterious Lotus Casebook 🪷

i. Growing Deep Roots

As noted by difeisheng, Li Xiangyi is an image more than he is a person. He’s the “symbol” and “beating heart” of the Sigu sect; “he embodies everything [the sect] stands for” and “has become one with every person he represents” in his role as a leader. As such, one might say he doesn’t exist as an individual who’s allowed the luxury of flawed, fluid humanity. Rather, he’s fixed into an object: a shield protecting those under his care, a mirror reflecting those he’s taken upon himself to be the champion for.  

While a heavy burden to carry, this identity as image is also shown to be brittle, hollow, like a hazy mirage which is more dazzling appearance than substance. Even Fang Duobing introduces Li Xiangyi to Li Lianhua by showing him a painting of his shifu — ink on a page, a person turned into a hero to be worshipped and idolated. 

Li Lianhua, over the ten years that pass after the Great Battle of the East Sea, works to plant and cultivate a new identity in the same way one might grow flowers. Li Lianhua forms deep roots and grows out of the mythical hero’s shell he’d been carrying as Li Xiangyi, thus developing an identity which is solid and grounding in contrast — an identity which involves “walk[ing] within a crowd instead of [soaring] above it.”

This shift from image to person is itself rooted in the lotus mantra (written by Buddhist Layman Pang during the Tang Dynasty) which Li Xiangyi first encounters after monk Wu Liao rescues him:

一念心清净 莲花处处开

The heart attains peace with a single thought; Lotus flowers bloom all around.

Although the exact timeline is left to interpretation, it’s implied that the lotus mantra operates as a catalyst of change for Li Xiangyi and that he changes his name to Li Lianhua after reading it. Now what is it about it that speaks to Li Xiangyi so deeply in that moment? As noted in 《 人間福報 》, the lotus mantra teaches us that a pure heart will result in an open and enlightened mind. One subtle, profound thought rife with compassion is enough for a person to glimpse Buddha in a flower, a leaf, a grain of sand or a speck of dust. In short, “if you can find peace within yourself, then you will find peace everywhere.” Perhaps Li Xiangyi, at his lowest point, finds solace in the prospect of stripping his life down to its very core and searching for purity, wisdom and peace within his troubled heart.    

By renaming himself 莲花/liánhuā lotus flower, Li Lianhua takes his destiny into his own hands; he empowers himself into reshaping his identity and laying down the foundations for the person he wants to become. Similarly to The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity which tells us that “names are the shortest spells in the world,” Li Lianhua’s new name functions as a spell which speaks a new him into existence. It’s a deliberate choice, a conscious attempt at breaking free from the suffocating shell Li Xiangyi was trapped in and become a person of his own choosing. 

The act of (re)naming notably also extends to Li Lianhua’s abode which he dubs 莲花楼 “Lotus Tower.” In addition to this significant choice of name, it’s interesting to note that Li Lianhua starts growing vegetables inside Lotus Tower when he’s left with nothing after his demise at the East Sea and is facing starvation. As such, his home is quite literally a site not only of self-sustenance and survival, but also of growth — a growth which requires hard work, patience and faith and nearly brings Li Lianhua to tears when his hopes are finally rewarded and the seeds he planted begin sprouting. The act of physically planting vegetables and learning to cook those vegetables speaks of a refreshing and grounding simplicity — of something disarmingly vulnerable and human after playing the role of a god-like figure. Li Lianhua has sweat on his brow and hope in his heart; he plants seeds, watches them grow and keeps himself alive by his own hands.

It seems it’s not only Li Lianhus’a home, but also his very person, which steadily grow into a lotus flower. Li Lianhua wears a variety of hairpins directly linked to the lotus, and the colour coding of his garments moves from the red he used to wear as Li Xiangyi to a lighter palette filled with greens and blues — colours which are more obviously linked to nature.

ii. Life Borrowed and Given Away

The lotus, both traditionally and within the drama itself, is closely connected to the theme of rebirth. On a literal level, the exotic lotus flowers of Cai Lian Manor grow directly from the corpses of the victims drowned in the pond, thus embodying life born from death. thawrecka writes in their story that Li Lianhua is “nothing but a lotus nurtured by a walking corpse, a body that doesn’t realise it should already be dead.” On a figurative level, the lotus grows in muddy water but blooms unsullied every morning, thus symbolising rising from a dark place and growing into something beautiful and colourful despite all the odds. The different stages of the lotus’ blooming can be taken to represent the beginning, middle and end of a spiritual path in Buddhism — a parallel to the theme of 趟/tāng taking a journey which underscores the drama in various ways.

Li Lianhua’s journey, more specifically, is that of a lotus being reborn. The soundtrack piece 《 一壶莲花醉 》 “A Pot of Lotus Wine” emphasises this connection in the following lines:

问一句莲花的悲喜 断一柄弃剑入青泥

I ask about the joys and sorrows of the lotus; A broken, abandoned sword is thrown into the mud.

Not only does Li Lianhua keep stressing at different points of the drama that Li Xiangyi is dead and all that is left behind is Li Lianhua; he even breaks his own sword Shaoshi at the end of the story, thereby physically reenacting a process of destruction—death—and rebirth. As Li Lianhua writes in his farewell letter: 

剑断人亡

My sword is broken, and I will be gone.

The significance of Li Lianhua’s action is further intensified here by the fact that the sword in the song is said to be thrown into 泥/ní mud, the site from which a lotus flower grows.

Considering that Shaoshi operates as a device embodying Li Lianhua’s character development throughout the drama, the fact that Li Lianhua decides to break it in the last episode should be taken as a key moment in which he chooses how his own narrative is going to end. Li Lianhua decides to kill for good the glorious image of Li Xiangyi which has become sullied with pain and regret in his heart, so that a simple, fragile peace can begin growing in its place like a lotus flower amidst the mud.

However, the tragedy of Li Lianhua’s narrative is that the rebirth he works to achieve for all these years is not his own to enjoy and never was intended to be. After the Great Battle of the East Sea, as Li Lianhua is reborn from Li Xiangyi and starts planting seeds all around him, he has already accepted that he’s nothing but a ghost, “wandering in the jianghu to close his loose ends and finally [...] vanish without a trace, not even a body left behind.” As mx-myth remarks, even the shift in his garment colours to an overwhelming amount of white as the story progresses makes it clear that he’s resigned to go and has “already started dressing for his own funeral.” 

The lotus flower symbolism permeating the narrative accentuates this bone-deep, unshakable resignation. While imprisoned by Jiao Liqiao, Li Lianhua is full of an aching, bittersweet fatalism when he recites a section of Guan Hanqing’s《 窦娥冤 》“The Injustice to Dou E”:

花有重开日 人无再少年 不须长富贵 安乐是神仙

Flowers will blossom again, But a man can never be young again. Seek not eternal wealth; You only need to be content.

Independently from the original meaning of the lines written by Guan Hanqing, the words seem to take on a sad, wistful quality when spoken with a bitter smile by Li Lianhua. In this scene, while the speaker reflects that rebirth occurs outside of themselves in flowers, they acknowledge that their own reality is one inevitably bound to end in old age and decay. Instead of looking forward to a bright future, the speaker doesn’t express any dreams nor ambitions and is only grateful that they’re alive this minute, this second, without any future prospects awaiting them. Perhaps a similar sentiment is reflected in the following lines from 《 一壶莲花醉 》 “A Pot of Lotus Wine”:

了了心事只 不负众生 而已

After settling my worries,  I just want to live up to all sentient beings.

Li Lianhua’s connection to the lotus flower, in fact, was always meant to be one of non-attachment. While Buddhism believes desire to be the root of all suffering, the lotus symbolises non-attachment due to being “rooted in mud (attachment and desire)” while “its flowers blossom on long stalks unsullied by the mud below.” This explains in part why the lotus is considered pure and noble. For Li Lianhua, this non-attachment takes on sorrowful connotations: it means that he stubbornly refuses to reap the seeds he sows and focuses his purest heart and will into ensuring those around him get to reap them instead. Non-attachment means allowing himself enough (a roof over his head, food on his plate) to survive, but rarely letting himself indulge in the precious luxuries of reciprocated love and care — of carefree joy and thirst for adventure.  

The ten years he lives after his first death at the East Sea are, for him, only borrowed time he didn’t deserve — borrowed time not dedicated to himself, but rather dedicated to others.

In many ways, Li Lianhua’s path effectively goes full-circle by the end of the narrative. When he and Di Feisheng reminisce about the moon they remember from ten years ago, they conclude that today’s moon isn’t any brighter than the one alive in their memory: rather, it remains constant, unchanged, as though the past ten years never existed as anything other than a short pause in the story, a coma, long enough for wrongs to be righted but not  for an already-dead person’s fate to be changed.

It’s interesting and particularly significant that the Styx flower (忘川花, from 忘川 “River of Forgetting” in the original Mandarin) is said throughout the drama to be the only thing capable of saving Li Lianhua’s life. In traditional Chinese culture, the Styx or River of Forgetting is part of the process of reincarnation; only by crossing it (and forgetting everything they’ve ever experienced and everyone they’ve ever loved) can a person finally reincarnate. For Li Lianhua, salvation through rebirth comes at a high cost — a price he’s evidently been ready to pay since the beginning, even if it means turning him into a ghost who must vanish from the story in order for those around him to grow and thrive further.

When Li Lianhua breaks his own sword to allow for rebirth, it’s not himself he’s saving. His sole purpose throughout his journey as Li Lianhua is to use whatever meagre strength he has left, whatever passion and drive are still alive in him, to save the world in any small ways that he can. He becomes a doctor who heals people; he looks for answers and solves mysteries to atone for the sins he thinks he has committed and rectify the mistakes he thinks he has made, so that those he has hurt can finally find peace and comfort.

The most powerful legacy Li Lianhua intends to leave behind by the end of the story has nothing to do with himself and everything to do with the people around him who he never truly admits he loves — the messy, imperfect world that’s caused him so much pain but that he nevertheless insists on saving with everything he has. 

Most strikingly, Li Lianhua chooses—whether consciously or not—to leave the life and future he’s renounced for himself to his companions Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng. The only traces he purposefully leaves behind live in them: in the Yangzhouman coursing through Fang Duobing’s body; the home, dog and recipe book he passes onto him; the worthy opponent he leaves for Di Feisheng to fight in his stead after he’s gone… 

Fang Duobing, by the end of the story, has grown into more than a disciple and a friend to Li Xiangyi/Li Lianhua: he himself has become the lotus flower bringing renewed life after Li Lianhua has left the narrative, thereby taking Li Lianhua’s legacy into a hopeful, vibrant future. As mx-myth mentions in their colour analysis, Fang Duobing notably wears bright pastel tones including a large amount of green/blue — a colour coding which emphasises Fang Duobing’s connection to spring and, by extension, new life and beginnings. “Life will always go on if there’s spring”; and so Fang Duobing’s youth, vitality and optimism can grow in the empty space left behind by Li Lianhua after he fades into the autumn of his life.

While Li Lianhua’s predominantly light colour palette might appear to align him with other characters in the drama who have left the past behind and are looking towards the future, Li Lianhua made peace long ago with the knowledge that he’s destined not to belong in that future. Just as the Lotus Sutra teaches us that “the inner determination of an individual has great transformative power” and “gives ultimate expression to the infinite potential and dignity inherent in each human life,” Li Lianhua focuses all his transformative efforts on creating a future which, despite having no place for him, will be fertile ground for the entire martial arts world to grow deep, healthy roots. In Li Lianhua’s own words:

幼芽生枝 新木长成 武林也一样 这未来如何 谁又能说得清楚呢

The young sprouts and the new trees grow. The martial arts world is the same. What does the future hold? Who can say clearly?

Should we say, then, that Li Lianhua’s story is one of sacrifice, self-renunciation and resignation — of drifting inevitably towards death as a flower carried by a stream? As he disappears on a boat and is asked where he’s going, Li Lianhua gives a response which echoes his first death at the East Sea in a way that feels entirely deliberate:

小舟从此逝， 江海寄余生

From now on I would vanish with my little boat; For the rest of my life on the sea I would float. 

How are we to understand a person being reborn simply so they can pass on that new life to others, and being convinced that their only true value lies in their death?

Perhaps, in spite of it all, we can find some small comfort in the knowledge that, no matter how sorrowful Li Lianhua’s fate, it’s at least one that he chooses — one that he has full control over, even poisoned and robbed of his life force as he is. As the lyrics of 《 一壶莲花醉 》 “A Pot of Lotus Wine” underline, “it’s just a matter of picking an ending that you like.” Perhaps that’s all that truly matters. 

wuxia-vanlifer makes an excellent point when asking: “What would be more tragic? That he never believed he was loved? Or that he did, but vanished anyway?” While I don’t have an answer to offer, there’s one thing I can say. Li Xiangyi, Li Lianhua — they live and die by love. They can’t conceive of themselves as anything other than a sacrificial tool because, for all that they pretend to be aloof and untethered, they actually love others—and the world—in a bone-deep, profound way they’ve never loved themselves. That love is not only the true driving force behind Li Lianhua’s character and the fate he chooses: it’s the beating heart of the entire drama.

“In this life, I have loved and I have been loved. That is enough.”

Shoutout to the following authors and bloggers whose brilliant words and ideas inspire me, as well as this gorgeous video 💖

ao3: @extraordinarilyextreme @thawrecka

tumblr: @difeisheng @extraordinarilyextreme @mx-myth @wuxia-vanlifer @xinyuehui

[bbnibini]

I wonder if it's a design choice or the devs themselves can't make up their mind, but why did Solomon's eye colour "change" in NB? The chibi sprites in the OG show his eyes are shades of grey to brown/almost gold-bronze.

The NB chibi sprite shows his eyes to be dark blue and brownish-gold.

Don't even get me started with the cards and merch that can't make up his effing eye colour

To my Solobesties (I'm calling Solomon stans this now. I think we formed a strange kinship after lesson 17 even if we never interact lmao), especially artist solobesties, hats off to you and your service to the community.

My personal HC is kinda a spoiler for uhhhh something I'm writing, but here it is:

"It's just…your eyes are like you: I can't figure them out." "MC, I-" "No! No! Solomon, I'm sorry! No…it's not like that, I promise! Look at me, won't you? Please look at me." So he did. His eyes trembled as he met with yours. How could he have hidden this part of himself for this long? How could you not notice? How could you forget? How could Father be so cruel to him and you for simply existing? You traced the corner of his lips with your thumb as you held him by the cheek. He was leaning onto your right hand, unable to maintain his gaze. He was surprisingly bashful. Adorably shy without his facades. But he looked like he would crumble even with a gentle word so you did not say anything. He looked at you expectantly, then looked away as your gaze burned onto him for too long and muttered, "You can't figure me out?"in almost a whisper, after a long-drawn out silence, weighing in his words, watching your expressions and body language. Afraid, so deathly afraid. You smiled. "It's like I'm looking at a mirror. Sometimes it's silver, sometimes it's midnight. When you look at the world around you and then look back at me, I feel like you've captured the sky and the oceans in your eyes. It's beautiful." His face was red all over, even to the tips of his ears. It was such a shame. You haven't even said everything you wanted to say to him yet. That he was the moon and the stars to your daytime; gold and silver gazes, looking after you from afar in the many branches of realities he couldn't be as honest with you as he was now. Ah. What will you do without him now? How can you give this up after remembering everything? You knew it was selfish, but you love him. Both of him. Every part of him just as much as he loved you and every part of you that existed. But now, you had to say goodbye. Again. How truly unfair.

[sophsun1]

#life as a brian kinney stan

[tag-if]

Progress Update;

DEC 2023 - JAN 2024;

Happy New Year!! i hope you are happy and healthy this fine 2024 (scary thought, can't believe 2023 went by so quickly)

i'm going to try and keep consistent with monthly progress updates this year, not only to keep you all informed with how it's going, but also to keep myself motivated lol

so!

december was a slow one, because of the holidays, but i think i got an alright amount done all things considered :)

DONE;

all of the non-ro scenes (intro to your room, meeting your personal staff, etc.)

had a fiddle with the code to try and fix up some things (that is a work in progress)

not game related, really, but started working on some more in-depth character descriptions and possible portraits (starting with the ROs but i will be doing some prominent side characters as well)

TO DO;

meet the rest of the ROs (and your first impression on them)

take on your first advisory challenge for Aleron/Alize (this one doesn't effect anything Much, it's mostly to show you how those will work)

also! under the cut is a poll that i would appreciate if you all answered :)

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

my new updated art commission info!

comms currently OPEN

DM me here, on Insta or on Discord to get in touch about commissions :)

(EDIT, please reblog this version!! :

I would like to clarify that I'm totally fine drawing self-inserts! when I say I won't draw ships involving real people what I mean is, for example, you or an oc x a content creator, or shipping of two other real people. If you're still unsure whether your request is one I'll accept, please just ask and I will clarify.)

[lizormianillustration]

what an episode

[coockie8]

I don't wanna come across as ableist in anyway, but anti's delusions genuinely are not my problem. No one's delusions are anyone's problem but the person having them.

Your inability to adequately make a distinction between fiction and reality is no one's issue to deal with but yours. It is downright unhinged, and wildly unrealistic to expect the entire world to cater to your delusions. You have to cope with them; no one can do that for you, and it's blatantly entitled to expect people, strangers, to change what they create or engage in to make you, a stranger, feel comfortable.

I'm a deeply paranoid individual, with an insanely irrational fear of someone living inside my walls (y'all can try sending my asks or DMs that say "I'm inside your walls" to trigger me, but I promise it won't work. I have inside-my-walls access, and check regularly, so good luck with that👍), but that doesn't mean I expect every horror writer/director in existence to never use that trope because some random fucking stranger might be uncomfortable, or even triggered by that.

I don't expect other people to cater to my delusions, because they are my delusions. They're my problem to deal with. I've got my triggers and issues too, but you don't see me going out of my way to call complete strangers predators and tell them they deserve to die over enjoying fiction that triggers me. I behave like a mature human being, and I block tags/people.

If you have trouble differentiating between fiction and reality, or you're the type to base their entire moral code off what you see in fiction, like a 5-year-old, then, in complete seriousness, don't engage with morally grey media. Or, at the very least, don't do so without supervision, and, genuinely, you should probably seek some kind of psychiatric assistance.

"Morally grey media" includes, by the way, all horror, most romances, a good chunk of comedies, and pretty well literally any piece of media that was made for someone over the age of 10. Human beings have been creating fucked up fiction since the dawn of language, and I highly doubt that's going to change any time soon because a bunch of chronically-online puritans refuse tell the difference between a cartoon and a person.

[elloello777]

I haven't seen them on Tumblr yet and I felt that this was my duty