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ใ€ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐—Ÿ๐—œ๐—ง๐—ง๐—˜๐—ฅ๐—•๐—ข๐—ซ / NSFW.

hey, do you come here often?

  • yes, too much

  • no, not enough

  • i will now

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dating back to 17th century japan, the beckoning cat or lucky cat, is a symbolic figurine that is often seen displayed in chinese and japanese shops and homes. it has also become popular around the world as a sign of friendship, good luck, and wealth.

the exact origin of maneki neko is somewhat disputed, but one of the most endearing and enduring tales is that local ruler Ii naotaka was saved from a lightning bolt while visiting the gotoku-ji temple in setagaya ward, tokyo.

the abbotโ€™s cat, tama, beckoned li naotaka into the temple, thereby saving his life from a lightning bolt. the cat was made a patron of the temple and, today, there are many statues of the lucky cat found on the site.

the most common color of maneki neko is a white cat with orange spots. but, different colors represent different meanings:

a calico cat is black, orange, and white and is the traditional combination and considered the luckiest.
white cats represent happiness and positivity.
gold is the color most closely associated with money and wealth.
black is meant to represent good and is used to ward off evil.
red cats are said to bring success in relationships.
green maneki neko are supposed to bring good health [...]


in the dance of time, a swift decay,
a tale of two, now fading away.
once bound by laughter, shared and true,
now whispers lost in the morning dew.

a gentle gust, a leaf takes flight,
an echo lingers, lost in the night.
paths diverge, a silent parting,
in the space between, a solemn hearting.

conversations, once a flowing stream,
now falter, caught in an elusive dream.
laughter's resonance, a distant chime,
fading like a vanishing rhyme.

unseen grievances, shadows grow,
the silent rift begins to show.
in the tapestry of what once was,
threads unravel, love withdraws.

digital ties, a click away,
unfollowed, gone, a modern sway.
a virtual ghost in the pixelated mist,
a presence lost, a connection dismissed.

the pain, not just in absence stark,
but in the erasure of the shared embark.
inside jokes, now silent, still,
places lose their magic, a faded thrill.

swift as the setting sun's descent,
in the present's darkness, a lament.
a person, a memory, a silhouette,
in the digital void, a lingering regret.

yet, amid the echoes of what's undone,
cherish the memories, each fleeting one.
learn from the dance of love and strife,
for change is the heartbeat of this fragile life.​
a little thank you note for the void.

the community has grown to over 10,000 members through consistent effort and care. since day one, i've been involved in ensuring its well-being and guiding its development as the owner. witnessing its growth is truly astounding, and i feel fortunate to play a role in its journey. as we continue on this path, i hope that our community will keep expanding and blossoming. each new member brings fresh perspectives and ideas, enriching our shared space. i'm excited to see what the future holds for us, and i'm committed to fostering an environment where everyone feels valued and supported.

yeah, i'm gonna pat myself on the back for this. เดฆเตเดฆเดฟ ( แต” แด— แต” )​
โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž

in the orchard of existence, apricots are the jewels of the boughs, ripe with the sweetness of fleeting seasons. they bloom with the tender embrace of the sun, their flesh yielding to the touch like a lover's caress. each bite is a proportion of flavors, a dance of tangy zest and honeyed nectar, leaving an indelible mark upon the senses.

yet, much like love, apricots are not without their complexities. their beauty is transient, a fragile moment captured in the palm of one's hand before fading into memory. just as love's ardor wanes with time, so too does the luscious allure of the apricot diminish as the seasons change.

but therein lies the paradox: despite their impermanence, both apricots and love possess an enduring power to evoke profound emotions. they are reminders of life's ephemeral beauty, urging us to savor each fleeting moment with an intensity born of appreciation and gratitude.

in the end, perhaps the true essence of apricots and love lies not in their permanence, but in their ability to awaken our senses to the richness of existence. like the taste of a ripe apricot on a summer's day or the embrace of a cherished lover in the moonlight, they leave an imprint upon our souls, etched forever in the drapery of our lives.



been craving a roleplay such as this for a little bit now. if this interests you, feel
free to take a look at my request thread. if not, i hope i provided a plot idea for
anyone who's reading this ใƒฝ๏ผˆโ‰งโ–กโ‰ฆ๏ผ‰ใƒŽ

โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž
vision board for a witch and werewolf inspired roleplay

in the heart of the whispering woods, where the ancient trees swayed in harmonious secrets, dwelled a witch named elara. her abode nestled amidst the tangled foliage, a sanctuary veiled in the soft embrace of nature's rhythms. but solitude was her constant companion, her only confidante amidst the shadows that danced with the whispers of forgotten spells.

elara had long surrendered to the solitude, weaving her spells under the watchful gaze of the moon. yet, as the seasons wove their tapestry, fate unfurled an unexpected thread. through the thickets and shadows, there emerged a creature of fur and fangโ€”a werewolf, lost in the maze of moonlit trees.

at first, elara regarded him with cautious eyes, her heart aflutter with the memories of ancient tales warning of such beasts. yet, as the days unfurled into nights, their paths intertwined like vines weaving through the forest floor. the werewolf, wild and untamed, brought chaos to her tranquil world, yet beneath the beastly facade, there lay a tender heart yearning for solace.

their encounters were a dance of hesitance and curiosity, each step a delicate balance between fear and fascination. yet, with each passing day, elara found herself drawn to the enigmatic creature, his presence a beacon amidst the darkness that shrouded her heart.

through shared moments beneath the canopy of stars, they unearthed the fragments of their souls, stitching together a tapestry of understanding and acceptance. the witch and the werewolf, bound by the threads of destiny, embraced the tangled web of fate with open arms.

and so, amidst the whispering woods, amidst the magic that danced on the breeze, elara learned to love again, finding solace in the embrace of a creature as wild and untamed as the forest itself. for in the heart of darkness, amidst the shadows that lingered, there bloomed a love as timeless as the stars that adorned the night sky.

โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž
another vision board, a current roleplay inspired with music

๏ฝก:ยฐเฎ me by blondie
โ€บ...chains of love by erasure
โ‹†ยธ*เณƒโ˜ผ...maneater by hall and oates
โ€บ...girls on film by duran duran
หšโ‚Šโœฉโ€งโ‚Š...i'd have you anytime by george harrison

โ”โ” โ˜†ใƒป*ใ€‚

morning train (9 to 5) by sheena easton...โ”โ”โ”โ˜ž
by the time i get to phoenix by glen campbell...โ€น
girls just want to have fun by cyndi lauper...โ™กเญงโ”ˆโ€ข๏พŸ๏ฝก
steppin' out by joe jackson...โ€น
private eyes by hall and oates...แต•ฬˆโ™กหณเณซ
so i'm wrong again by judy singh...โ€น
[ ยท ] NSFW New

โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž
grinding brings you both to the edge, a tantalizing brink where pleasure teases just out of reach. itโ€™s a dance of restraint and release, where every moment is saturated with erotic tension. the shared experience becomes almost overwhelming, a crescendo of sensation that leaves you both breathless and yearning for more.


๐—–๐—ข๐—Ÿ๐—ข๐—ฅ๐—ฆ ๐—ข๐—™ ๐—ง๐—›๐—˜ ๐—๐—ข๐—จ๐—ฅ๐—ก๐—”๐—Ÿ ๐—ฃ๐—”๐—š๐—˜

#48b6e7 = picton bluexxxxxxx#ba5859 = matrixxxxxxxx#c57b62 = antique brassxxxx#97c0e0 = regent st bluexxxxxx#cea996 = eunryxxxxxxxxx#0a0102 = creole
you make me feel as though aging is reprehensible. i'm embarrassed -- for you. when the petals of my flower wilt from old age, i hope you will be there to watch how it's done. it's a beautiful process of accepting who you are and the fate you'll entwine into.


โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž
how is it that every time i make a new friend they either a) turn out to be a HUGE creep with ulterior motives or b) seeks out my kindness as a way of abusing our friendship. it legitimately is so tiring trying to find another goober to be with. sometimes it makes me wish i never got on anxiety medication. i'm so much more outgoing and trusting when i'm on 60mg of prozac (soon to be 80mg). but i don't know. it's hard to limit who i should be around versus who's genuinely good for me. i cut a lot of people out of my life fairly easily because it's such a habit. on top of that, a lot of people view me as childish. i understand that but it doesn't give people a right to try and treat me as a child. it's called age regression -- my trauma doesn't give people a right to baby me.

i feel everyone's intentions are somewhat 'evil' in a sense. man, i hate my social life. i wish i could go back to sharing my fruit snacks with people and showing off my elmo purse. life was so much simpler when we weren't fully conscious (๏ผ›โ€ฒโŒ’`)
โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž โ€Ž
i realize that using unicode fonts like แด›สœแด‡sแด‡ or ๐“ฝ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ๐“ผ๐“ฎ or ๐•ฅ๐•™๐•–๐•ค๐•– are hard to read. they've started to pop up a lot more on many sites over the following year for aesthetic purposes. i'm going to start abbreviating [abbr = "description of what i'm saying without the fancy font " ] so people can read what i'm writing while hovering over the font. i implore others who use the same font to consider those who have sensitive eyes, use screen readers, or don't enjoy reading these fonts in small print.

of course, if i write anything that gets lost in translation, always feel to reach out. i'm less inclined to use these for aesthetic purposes and more for clarity if anything.
หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหš โ”Š๏ธŽ theme change !! เป’๊’ฑ ๊’ฑ โ™กฬทฬทฬทโ€งหšโ‚Š
i will no longer be doing blue and orange. i will now be focusing on pink and white ๊’ฐแข. .แข๊’ฑโ‚ŠหšโŠน

a friendly reminder that the page change is on post 50

i saw this post that said "POV: you realize you've never gotten flowers from a boy because you lack the current feminine beauty". and i smiled at it for the first few seconds because i related to it. i've never gotten flowers, from anyone. maybe my mom when i was in the hospital... before i knew it, i was crying. not unconditionally, but to the point where my eyes were naturally stinging.

i think i'm completely unlovable.

i don't mean this in a self-sabotaging way or "boo hoo, woe is me". the way that i was brought up, the trauma, the illness, and everything in between -- i don't think it's possible. it's a sad realization. i'm going to end up like my mom. alone or bound to someone who treats me like shit and uses me every day of my life. i'm too sensitive for this world. i try not to show it but everything hurts eventually. words, people, and places. how am i supposed to live with too much love? i'll grow and age but i don't think my mentality will change unless someone breaks me down. bit by bit.

i've never done dating apps. i never will. i refuse to touch anything like that. i partially don't believe in 'naturally finding your soulmate' or whatever people fly by. i'm too strange and unflattering. i've often been told that i look upset, always. i'm not too fond of it. i don't smile often either. i hate my teeth and the way my mouth crinkles. i'm always tight-lipped and 'upset looking'. probably why nobody has ever taken a physical interest in me.

besides all that though, it's not about my features. it's about my deeply integrated flaws. maybe i haven't met someone who will completely unbound what i've been through... i'd like to think that someone could love me. just not this lifetime.


once upon a time, in days of cheer,
there was a name so sweet to hear,
a whisper soft, a gentle hug,
that name was mine, it was "love bug."

mom saved it for those special days,
when skies were bright with sunlit rays,
her voice would wrap me, snug and warm,
in "love bug's" charm, i felt no harm.

not often used, a precious gem,
in moments rare, it would extend,
a fleeting touch of love so dear,
the sweetest name i'd ever hear.

as years went by, the name did fade,
but in my heart, it always stayed,
a legacy of love and grace,
a tender hug in mom's embrace.

now i pass on that cherished name,
to others, so they feel the same,
that warmth, that love, so snug,
i call them by the name, "love bug."

in each kind word, in every smile,
i spread that joy across the miles,
a gentle echo from above,
of mom's sweet, tender, boundless love.


nero by ใƒ•ใƒฌใƒใ‚ท
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