#completely eluded me

[hzdtrees]

Baseline, pt. 2

[desultory-novice]

hello! I've been seeing this new return to dream land/ merry magoland Kirby manga around, but I can't find any details. Would you happen to know anything about it?

Thanks in advance! I'd really like to know what it's called.

Based on the style, it looks like Hoshi no Kirby ~ Yurutto Pupupu, which is another (…) gag manga made up of VERY short chapters (4-8 pages) released on a monthly basis in Young Girl’s Magazine, Ciao.

While the monthly manga is published in black and white, the volume releases are in color. They are also (as far as I’m aware) PHYSICAL ONLY meaning you can’t buy them online without importing the book.

I’ve read several chapters of it and while it’s cute, I can assure you that most of the content is going to be short and silly gags and word puns (so many puns…) that poke light-hearted fun at the story rather than an attempt a serious adaptation of any of the games

…Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Just that you aren’t missing all that much imo?

[randomnameless]

thinking about @fantasyinvader's recent Dimitri post -

I think one of the points I'm not really fond of with AM and Boarmitri's turn to Savior!Mitri is how Dee shifts his attention from the Means to the Ends.

And sure, we have to think about the bigger scope - criticise to prevent the "Ends" means putting an end to the "Means" - but what about the ones who were sacrificed, or the ones who are and written off as "means"?

Kleiman dude really believed he was doing the right thing by chopping Duscur people (or at least putting them under the bus for something he and his lord did).

Boarmitri reacts to the "slaughtering Duscur people" strongly, and would have killed him because hey, you were slaugthering people down (or are responsible for the persecution Duscur people suffered and are still going through).

Savior!Mitri? Will put his execution on hold, to consider what Kleiman dude meant by "doing the right thing".

But, regardless of why Kleiman Dude thought was "right" or for "justice", the thing is, he still organised the massacre of several people and wrongly framed innocents to hide their involvment, which led to their persecution/massacre.

"But Lambert was removing our rights and privileges" sure, what does this has anything to do with Dedue having lost his sister to senseless murder after being wrongfuly framed for regicide?

"Kleiman Dude really believed what he was doing was right" and ? Tell that to Felix's mom, what's going to happen? People do things for all kinds of reasons, so what?

-

Worst offender is, of course, Supreme Leader.

Boarmitri wants to cut her down to avenge the dead (and maybe stop the war?) but when Savior!Mitri finally hears her, uh, reasoning, he is resolved to kill her because that's her choice (uh) and it's their fate???

The fuck?

Sure he mentions putting an end to the war, but the entire "we have no other choice but to fight, because it's what she wants and that's the destiny we were born to", please no?

Hopefully the first sentence "end the war" exists, otherwise I'd really believe Dee makes this fight and final battle all about Supreme Leader (and blame fate because that's hresvelg grey for you) and completely ignores the people who are, uh, living in this Fodlan ravaged by war, the ones who died because of it or are still dying because that's what war does.

What about the ones who died? The ones who are dying (or are locked in a 5 stars resort doing zumba for 5 years) ? The ones who are turned in demonic beasts? The ones who are starving?

"We have no choice but to destroy each other... Such is the destiny we were born to."

who cares about casualties, let's agree to disagree about our Ends and blame fate instead.

:/

[vargaslovinghours]

Happy Vargasversary! Only one meme this year, but I do have a few Vargas-themed online dolls and Picrews for your viewing pleasure lol

I’m so sad about Flash!! It’s just not the same with Ruffle, at least there’s Flashpoint. Anyway, pretty sure I made this Scriabin before the shutdown haha

I can’t find this one, which is such a shame! I think it’s a total classic :0 Something something computer Scriabin haha, there’s no long hair option! Wires are a good enough stand-in

Had to do it the other way around too of course. Don’t tease him! (Do tease him)

Kitty!Edgar! Being able to add things like his glasses, goatee, striped “shirt”, even his bangs! So many lovely options 💕

Feeling normal, covered in blood. I always love when Makers include the Red String, it is Excellent ✨

Rinamaru‘s Anime Avatar Creator, THE maker GOAT to me ♥ Got a sequence of Edgar newly face-cut-up, with the bandaid on his nose, and then “fully” healed hehe

Ladyverse!Jake and Edgar! ♥ I think I was going to make Scriabin as well but there weren’t enough features that’d suit him so these two got the feature instead ♪ I can’t find this one either, I think it’s a Picrew though...? Update: Smol found it!! Thank you!!

Smol also made the boys with one of her fave Picrews! For only really knowing Vargas from my incessant talk (lol), I think she captured them quite lovely :D

I also had to give them a go of course haha, I’m very happy for the option to remove eyes lol

[joshua-beeking]

I am barely joking when I say I don't trust anybody who include all BG3 characters in their posts outside of Halsin, the reasoning behind is always insulting at best.

[pharaohbean]

chat would we be interested in hearing about my VERY loose ideas for pjsk fan events (mostly just titles, synopsis, cards, etc., nothing story-wise really)

(fan unit will be spawning eventually im. still working on them. darn 11 person unit!)

[emissary-of-dog]

@beesbeesbees42 (putting this here just so i don't spam op's notifs;) THAT I DID, YES!!! it took sooooo so long because getting all the minigame exclusive items was a pain as was fishing up the remaining fish (LOOKING AT YOU, ANGLERFISH) and getting all the health upgrades from charlotte & ambrose... but i know this game like the back of my hand it is my absolute favorite game ever and that's no exaggeration 😭😭 I DIDNT KNOW U KNEW THIS GAME TOO THATS SO KEWL!!!!!!

[bookshelf-in-progress]

A Christmas Alone: A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

For the Christmas Challenge at @inklings-challenge, I've written a Christmas story that ties to my "Beauty and the Beast" retelling, "A Day Late." This takes place before that story, which makes it technically a prequel, but both are meant to stand alone.

Without further ado, here's:

A Christmas Alone

The dining table held a feast fit for royalty, but Beatrice had no eyes for the food. As she pushed a few limp vegetables around her plate, her gaze wandered to the birds and angels painted on the ceiling and toward the rose gardens outside the vast windows. Her mind wandered even further, past the limits of the gardens to an outside world she hadn’t seen for months, where a little cottage would be covered in snow and filled with the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparations. Her sisters would be baking up a storm today. Her brothers would be hunting for Christmas venison. If she were there, she would be decorating the house in every bit of greenery she could find.

In the distance somewhere, a voice said, “Beatrice.”

What would her father be doing today? Would he be out hunting for the Christmas tree alone? Did he miss her company? Did he mourn her, trapped for so many months in a castle with a beast?

“Beatrice.”

Who would be setting up the stage for the Christmas theatricals? Had she told anyone where she’d stashed the curtains and old clothes they used for costumes? She had hoped to convince everyone to put on a comedy this year, but now that she wasn’t there, Ophelia would probably badger everyone into performing one of her silly sentimental melodramas.

“Beatrice.”

The voice, now raised to almost a shout, snapped her out of her reverie. The dining room—and the massive Beast sitting across the table—came into focus. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Beast’s striped, dog-like face showed concern. It was strange how well she could read the expressions of a dog-tiger-monkey man. His eyes and brows were very expressive. “You seem distracted,” he said in his deep tones. “Is something troubling you?”

It felt impossible to speak of it. That rundown, cozy little cottage was worlds away from this elegant palace full of gold and mirrors and portraits. The Beast did not belong with her family.

And yet...the Beast she’d come to know these last eight months was nothing like the fearsome monster her father had described when he’d come home with the rose. He was gentle. Kind. Patient. A bit moody and dramatic, but reasonable. It was just possible he’d grant this request.

“I was thinking,” she said, keeping her voice far more casual than she felt. “Christmas is in two days.”

Beast' s brow furrowed. “Christmas?” He looked at the gardens outside the windows. “It can’t be. It’s summer.”

“It’s always summer here,” Beatrice said. “That doesn’t mean it’s not Christmas. I’ve been here 226 days, which makes it December 23rd.”

Beast shook his head as if trying to clear away fog. “I suppose it is,” he said at last. “Time rather runs together here.”

That was another reason she needed a holiday. She blurted, “Could you send me home for Christmas? Just for a day or two?”

Beast’s face grew solemn. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

“Why not? You let Father come home with the rose.”

“To settle the debt by sending you to take his place. Now that you have come, it is not in my power to release you.”

“It wouldn’t be release. It would be...an outing. For good behavior. I promise I’d come back.”

“I believe you would,” Beast said, “but I have not found a way to safely allow even your temporary release. The rules of this place…”

“Oh, the rules!” Beatrice threw a napkin, but an invisible servant caught it before it could fly very far. “It always comes back to those stupid rules!”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I think you make up half of those rules.”

“I wish I were.” Beast leaned forward, his strangely human eyes full of sincerity. “Believe me, Beatrice. If I could safely send you home, even for a visit, I would, but I won’t risk your life by sending you too soon.”

Beatrice sighed. Her visions of a cozy Christmas faded. “So I have no choice,” she said. “I have to spend Christmas here with you.”

“Is that so terrible?” Beast asked.

Beatrice thought about the cottage--her brothers and sisters gathered around the table, the candles, the meal, the stories, the jokes, the songs, the laughter. It was rustic and chaotic compared to the luxury here, but Christmas in this vast, silent, elegant palace couldn’t compare.

“It really is,” she said.

Beast bowed his head. “I am sorry to cause you distress.”

He rose from his seat and turned toward the far doors, which opened beneath invisible hands.

“Beast? Where are you going?” Beatrice suddenly heard her own last words in her memory and cringed. She half-rose from her seat. “Beast! Come back here! I didn’t mean…”

An eight-foot tall beast could cross a room quickly. Before she could say more, the dining room doors closed behind him.

#

Beatrice peered into the library. The shelves, stuffed to the brim with leather-bound books, towered up to the ceiling, every book still in its proper place. Against the far wall, Beast sat in a wing-backed chair next to a fireplace half the size of the attic she shared with her sisters at home. Even in this warm climate, the evenings could get chilly. Flickering firelight cast light and shadows that tangled with Beast’s tiger stripes.

A book lay in Beast’s lap, untouched while he gazed into the fire. Beatrice approached cautiously and peered over his shoulder. She couldn’t read the language, but the pictures suggested it was a scientific text.

At least he wasn’t reading poetry. If he’d gotten into the melancholy ballads, there would have been no talking to him.

She stepped around the chair to face him. “Beast?” she said softly.

Beast looked up. The tips of his pointed ears drooped, his tangled teeth jutted from his jaw, his long tail hung limply over the arm of the chair, but his eyes were so human.

Her carefully composed apology fled her brain. She babbled, “I want to apologize. About before. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not being with you that’s terrible, it’s...not being with them.”

Beast’s face eased, but he didn’t meet her eyes. “I understand,” he said. “It is natural to wish for your family at Christmas.”

“I just keep thinking about...everything,” she said. “The food and the carols and all of them. I’m missing out on it all.”

Beast nodded, “The first Christmas alone is the most difficult.”

Beatrice sat in in the chair facing him. “You have no idea.” A light sparked in her mind, bringing up a new thought. “Wait. Do you?” She perched at the edge of her seat. “Do you have a family, Beast?”

Beast appeared uncomfortable. He looked down and stroked his tail where it lay over the arm of the chair. “Most people do.”

Beatrice’s mind boggled at the notion of an entire clan of dog-tiger-monkey men. “What are they like? Are there a lot of you? Do you resemble your parents?”

Beast twisted the end of his tail in one hand. “There are...many of us. None of them look like me. I am the only one with such...animal features.”

“Is that why you’re here, then? Locked away like the minotaur?”

Beast grimaced. “My family is not responsible for my current situation.”

Yet he would never say what was. She’d narrow it down eventually, but for now, she had more important questions.

“How do you stand it? Being away from them?”

“I’ve become accustomed to the loneliness.”

And she was trying to leave him. She hadn’t thought of it from his perspective before—Christmas after Christmas alone in this silent palace, with no one except servants that he couldn’t see.

“How long have you been here?” she asked softly.

“Long enough to become accustomed to lonely holidays. I would not subject you to it if I had any other choice.”

Here she was, moping over one Christmas with Beast for company, while he’d suffered who-knew-how-many alone without complaint. Yet she still wished she could leave him. What kind of monster was she?

If only she could have it both ways. “I wish we could both see my family for Christmas. Despite how the two of you met, my father would like you if he could know you. My siblings would torment you, but they’d like you, too.”

Beast’s lip pulled up in his version of a smile. “It’s a lovely picture. I wish I could give it to you.”

How stupid wishes were. Both of them wasting time wanting things they couldn’t have.

Beast suddenly stood up, all eight feet of him stretching toward the ceiling. The book clattered to the floor.

“Be careful!” Beatrice scolded. Just because he had a million books in a huge palace did not mean he could throw them around.

Beast picked up the fallen tome. “My apologies." He strode toward the library doors. "I’ve just remembered.”

As he walked away, Beatrice knelt on her seat, looking over the back of her chair, and called out, “Remembered what?”

Beast turned back with a light in his eyes. “We have much to prepare before Christmas."

#

Christmas morning. Beatrice examined herself in her dressing room mirrors. She wore deep green—a full-skirted silk dress she’d never seen before in her massive wardrobe. With her red curls—delicately arranged by the servants—she looked like a Christmas doll. Like the presents she and her sisters got as children in their days of prosperity in the city.

She smiled at the invisible servants. “You’ve almost made me look pretty.”

She had never been the pretty one back home. She had too much of a mouth for that. Here, she always felt beautiful, without sisters to outshine her. But she would far rather be with them in their attic bedroom this morning. She could almost hear the bustle of their usual morning routine—rustling fabric, creaking floorboards.

Then she realized she could hear something, just outside her door.

She stepped toward the dressing room door. “Is someone in my sitting room?”

She reached for the doorknob, but an invisible hand wrapped around her wrist. Beatrice slapped it and yanked her hand free. “Stop that!”

Another hand grabbed her other wrist. Beatrice tried to step forward, but a strong grip on her shoulders held her back.

“What are you doing?” Beatrice shouted. “Let me go!”

She wriggled out from beneath the hands and managed to grab a hair brush from her vanity, which she smacked against the fingers holding her wrist. A minute later, the hands were back, holding her more securely than ever.

Beatrice struggled against them. “How many of you are in here? Is this a conspiracy? Have you all decided to rebel?” If the invisible servants had started a Christmas morning mutiny, she and Beast didn’t stand a chance.

While she looked for other means of escape, the door to the sitting room swung open, and the servants released her so suddenly that Beatrice fell to the floor. She rose, straightened her crumpled skirts, and scowled at the room, hoping her expression was directed toward at least a few of the servants.

“What was that?” she demanded.

The only response she received was a gentle nudge on the shoulder urging her toward the open door.

She had half a mind to stay right here, just to spite them. But she was curious.

She edged through the doorway and found Beast standing in her sitting room, resplendent in a suit of royal blue that dripped with gold and silver embroidery. He bowed to her. “Merry Christmas, Beatrice.”

“Merry...Christmas,” Beatrice said, bemused. “What are you doing in my sitting room?”

Beast gestured to the wall opposite the windows. “I was overseeing the delivery of your present.” A large, rectangular something was mounted on the wall and draped with a white sheet. In deference to the season, a gold bow had been placed in the center.

She hadn’t even thought of presents. It hadn’t occurred to her, trapped in a palace where Beast already owned everything.

“Did you wrap it yourself?” Beatrice teased, to hide her embarrassment. She stepped toward the wall and picked up one corner of the sheet. “May I?”

Beast’s eyes shone. “Whenever you like.”

Beatrice pulled off the sheet with a flourish. A heavy, carved wooden frame, as thick as her hand, as tall as Beast and nearly as wide, surrounded a painting. An interior Christmas scene, with a family gathered around a table in a room bedecked with ribbons and greenery. Yet something about the scenery looked familiar, something about the people tugged at her memory—

With a gasp, Beatrice saw that the family wasn’t just any family—it was hers. Every face was unmistakable. There was Viola’s dark hair, Rosalind’s freckles, Ophelia’s bright green eyes, Henry’s scar from where Edmund had pushed him out of a tree. And there, at the head of the table, his face mostly turned away, but unmistakable...

“Papa,” Beatrice breathed.

She ran a hand over the painting, the brushstrokes rough beneath her palm, as she touched every face in turn. “How did you do this?” she asked Beast. “You’ve met my father, but all the rest…”

“A gift from my godmother,” Beast said, “long ago. It shows us those who are far from us. It won’t show my family, but with a bit of rule-bending, I convinced it to portray yours.”

Yet another wonder of this place. Beatrice marveled at it. A masterwork of a painting. Every brushstroke precise. The colors vivid. The shadows and light as real as life. She felt as though she could walk inside the frame and be with them all.

She turned away, overwhelmed, with tears pricking her eyelids. “It’s lovely, Beast. I can’t thank you enough.”

A lump in her throat choked her. It was a lovely, thoughtful gift, and yet—it was almost worse to see them like that, memorialized in a single still image, like people long dead.

She was being ridiculous. She turned back to the painting.

Her jaw fell. Papa, who had been turned away, now faced directly toward her with a smile on his face.

“What?” Beatrice stepped toward the painting and scrutinized it. “I’m sure he was facing the other way before.”

“Was he?” Beast asked wryly. “This is a painting that must be watched closely.”

Beatrice examined the painting. It wasn’t just Papa. She was sure Viola’s arm was more outstretched than before. Henry’s eyes had opened wider.

A moment later, there were more changes. Papa’s mouth was open in a smile now. Viola held a pot of tea.

The image changed again, again, again, tiny movements every time, and soon it was changing so fast that Beatrice couldn’t see the changes. Everything in the picture moved in perfect fluid motion, as if the people inside were alive. She watched her family laugh and chatter as they shared a breakfast of tea and Christmas bread. There was no sound, no scent, but her memory filled in the gaps. She could hear the same old Christmas morning jests, hear the birds outside the window, smell the pine of the wreaths, feel the warmth and closeness of being with her family on Christmas morning.

Tears ran down Beatrice’s face, and she didn’t even try to stop them. “Thank you, Beast,” she said. She wiped her face in her silken sleeve—she had hundreds of dresses, but she couldn’t waste a moment of this miracle hunting down a handkerchief. “This is the Christmas I wanted.”

Beast bowed and backed away. “I shall leave you to enjoy it.”

Beatrice leapt toward him and seized his arm. “Don’t you dare!” Though she barely came up to his chest, she dragged him toward a sofa that had been turned to face the wall. “You are staying here. Sit.”

Beast, seeming lost and bewildered, meekly obeyed.

Beatrice spoke to any invisible servants that might be in the room. “Do we have any Christmas bread available? Something like what’s in the painting?”

A single knock on the wall. Yes.

“Bring some to us,” Beatrice says, “and a pot of tea. We’re sharing Christmas morning with my family.”

In moments, the food arrived, and she and Beast shared it in a picnic on the floor while she explained everything that was happening in the painting. Though she talked almost without stopping for breath, Beast listened to everything attentively, as if he was as hungry for company as he was for breakfast.

This was different, but it was good. A Christmas she could never have imagined, but one she would never have wanted to miss, here with her strange, hulking, melancholic, thoughtful Beast.

She had so much she wanted to say, to let Beast know what this meant to her, and no words to express it—she didn’t do well with sentiment, and some things were too deep for speech.

At last, on impulse, she threw her arms around Beast’s neck. “Thank you,” she said.

Beast, stunned, was frozen beneath her, but after a moment, he relaxed and returned the embrace.

Catching herself as she realized what this might look like to a beast who had proposed to her every day she'd lived here, she hurriedly pulled away and said, "I'm still not marrying you!"

For once, the refusal didn't leave Beast looking forlorn. He merely chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "I don't mind. Right now, this is more than enough."

She settled back to her seat, relieved he understood. It was. More than enough.

"Merry Christmas, Beast," she said.

He placed one of his hands over hers. "Merry Christmas, Beatrice."

[watermelinoe]

this tteokbokki crunchy mochi slaps

[scarlett-vixen]

Are you guys gonna be upset if this final chapter ends up….spicy? Ish? 👀 asking for a friend

[fishareglorious]

OUTIS BANNER OUTIS BANNER

I GOT OFFICE OUTIS WE WON EVERYONE GO HOME

[wispurring-moss]

me: god i love Husk so much......

brain: ...you've drawn him How many times now and Still can't accurately do it to save your own life?

me, through gritted teeth & tears: god. i love Husk so. much,,,,,,,,,

[randomnameless]

The phrase “we have been aware of the high levels of competency from KT's writers, especially with their work for 3H” is worrying; i'm not going to shit-talk them just for thinking that 3H has a good story, especially when someone's standards for what makes a story good or not is subjective and could be different from ours, but KT's story-telling skills are never going to improve if people keep only telling them that Three Houses' deeply-flawed story was actually a narrative masterpiece, instead of a self-contradicting mess with plot points it introduces solely as gotchas and has no intention of ever following up on in any meaningful way, characters getting assassinated left and right to try and argue that female Ashnard might actually be right and not so different from them in terms of morality and goals (while they're in the middle of fighting for their lives and watching their friends die in battle because she decided to invade their home unprovoked and solely for a landgrab), and an over-powered villain group that should have ended the story long before it even started because the writers decided to give them a stockpile of magic nukes they can launch at anywhere in the world, which was also introduced solely for shock value and without them realizing how much of the story is ruined by making it so that the villains who want to kill everyone and take over the world can just nuke anyone they want (that isn't inside Garreg Mach when they launch it) with no consequences.

I just don't like what it means for the future of FE stories if the worst story in the series keeps getting praised as one of the best, even by separate developers, is all.

Wait and see anon!

For what it's worth, while Engage's sales are apparently not as stellar as Houses in the same timeframe (like House after month 1 and Engage after month 1?), Nopes totally crashed.

Amazon isn't the only market in the world, but in some places in the world (tfw not for amazon.fr) Nopes is now sold at around 15 bucks, which is ridiculous considering older games released on consoles still being in circulation are more expensive than this thing that is barely 1 year old(even the first FEW?).

Also, Engage was supposed to have been released earlier but Covid and Houses being released later than planned meant it was delayed, but Engage was supposed to be Fodlan's antithesis, at least writing wise - you'd think IS would have tried to retrofit more Fodlan themes (maybe more uwu maybe some villains aren't BaD and earl grey because they luf u) but they didn't.

Imo, fwiw, while KT apparently loved how Fodlan was received, IS is aghast and doesn't want to touch it within a 10 meters radius, only if it means selling units in FEH and even there, they sometimes retcon Fodlan units (hello F!Billy/Sothis) or challenge them in various FB (Brave!Supreme Leader, but also in the most recent one, Sylvain harping on his Crust being BaD...) clearly showing how they don't really want to follow KT's direction regarding those units - at times, it's almost as if the CoS receives more development in Heroes than in both Fodlan games!

So I'd like to see what IS has in store for the next FE games (or the next non remake FE game), even if in my opinion, given how Heroes has to retcon/finish the writing (Mercedes reveals more about her Adrestian family in FEH than in two of her games!) for characters just to sell them in the gacha game ffs, speaks volumes on what they think of Fodlan's writing.

On top of that, FE16 was the first game where people received surveys/mails from Nintendo/IS asking them if they understood the game... - so despite Fodlan selling well (better than expected?), imo it's clear the writing isn't to praise, at least for IS, and they don't want anything to do with it (Nopes' DLC was scrapped, when shiny!Rhea's sprite was datamined, so either they made an useless sprite, either this sprite might have been used in a future DLC?)

They can still butcher a future remake (plz no jugdral) by adding pointless supports between units and trying to uwu more than needed the red emperor - or add an OC waifu du jour who will sell merchs and try to uwu her if she is on the side of the red emperor - but I feel like we will see where they will go with a brand new game (since Heroes's writing is... as consistent as a fog and basically circles around "women sad'n'lonely*, men evyl", female playable OC simps after the avatar and is useless in the resolution of the plot because Alfonse will finally find a mc guffin way to defeat the villain of the year).

*i truly hope Vero isn't any indication to what the writing of the future games will be, like heavy retcons from her first apparition to "i was brainwashed and akshually everyone supports me from my home even if i send them to death against askr because the voice in my head told me to do it" because that'd suck, but vero is a young woman, thus she could be monetised for alts, figurines and even DLC content in a main game!

[dan-crimes]

I love writers I love when they ramble on abt characters and their motivations, their core values and the reasons why they react to things in certain ways and having character interactions work off of each other due to their differing ways of viewing the world and in general I just love character analysis

[local-queer-classicist]

Sometimes my inability to read social dynamics is impressive even to myself.

Like, wow, I really am just immune to some information, aren’t I? Just slides off like water off a duck. Like a superpower, except instead of being able to fly, I’m just confused or oblivious about the people around me most of the time.

[theycallmekaibara]

this has been in art purgatory for like a year or more because I could never render it in a way that didnt make me hate it....UNTIL TODAY.....I can finally call it presentable 💃🏿 

The context for this is that someone made the cutest pink motel on the sims (which included a diner) and I’ve been obsessed with Kaibara owning a pink motel ever since 🤷🏿‍♀️ if she owned any motel, it would be this one.