#feedback is always welcome

[some-thrilling-heroics]

this might be a weird take but you know how astarion spends most of the game trying to figure out who and what he can be outside of what cazador made him? i kinda feel a lot of that with shadowheart too. except with her it's much less of an active effort until we come to the end of the gauntlet and stuff is revealed.

astarion has a lot of anger and bitterness, and for shart that's where i see her need to conform to what shar wants of her? astarion has this front of 'im so seductive' and her front is 'fuck off, respect my privacy' imo, you can hide so much behind that - or in her case, hide how little there is.

im aiming to have her be very contradictory and self-cenzoring in speech and thought patterns to show the cult influence on her. how she hopes the hand pain has meaning (not what sharran doctrine says) but then other times she just recites sharran doctrine as if to show see? i know my stuff, i'm a good sharran (she's so not). i want her to be overcompensating for her slip ups and while she's having doubts to double down on the shitty things.

but also i worry that my way of showing her trying to get / keep shar's favor and be a good sharran come off as just her being an ass when she's giving sharran style advice😩

i get shart is pragmatic and likes animals and has a favorite flower but i'm now trying to think abt the intersection of personality and memory bc she is pretty much a blank with very few memories and idk, that feels like it should be relevant when the sense of self is concerned.

like, bad or good or neutral memories, they all reflect something abt a person and if you don't have much of that how do you think of yourself as a person? it would be cool i guess to not feel the random burst of guilt at that silly comment you made 20 years ago, but also knowing what you did in the past (and what has been done to you) is how you know what you want from the future. at least a little?

astarion has his 200 years of pure shit and i bet he would love to forget some of it if not all, but i feel like it fuels him a lot too. or maybe it's just me. so many things i wish that have not happened in my life but every single one informs how i act now and what i strive for. and shadowheart doesn't have that. all she has is 'shar wants this from you' and that's it. when offered a shroom to see some of her past she doesn't feel she's allowed to know it. she doesn't feel she has a right to her own past. she's only just learning how to be herself outside of 'lady shar this and lady shar that' and im getting a lot more wary anxiety abt it from her as opposed to astarion's fury. idk i feel like they mirror each other so well.

[ts3creatorscave]

Creator Community Good Faith Practices

Here at the Creator’s Cave, our mission is to create a ‘safe space’ for people to learn how to create new content and mods for The Sims 3, and share their knowledge of how to create new content and mods for the Sims 3.

Frequently, new custom content (CC) is generated by making edits to existing CC. As part of the above mission, we feel it is required of us to encourage ‘Good Faith’ practices, and to discourage ‘Bad Faith’ practices when utilizing content from other creators in your CC or mods.

We've made a  list of ‘Good Faith’ and ‘Bad Faith’, and ‘Grey Area’ practices to serve as guidelines for both existing and aspiring creators.

We asked those in the discord to help distill and tweak it, and will continue to make alterations based on feedback from the creator community. These guidelines are primarily enforced by the community itself, and other creators may decline to provide assistance to someone who is using ‘Bad Faith’ practices.

Here’s a link to the doc for any interested: TS3 Creator Good Faith Practices

[for-better-or-verse]

Temporary

My body is temporary. Like most things, I think. Peel back the layers of skin and you’ll find deteriorating muscle, From days spent doing nothing, Wasting time. I hold my skin to the light that creeps in. Scars and lumps I can’t explain, Life itself embedded in each bruise, each imperfection. I return my attention to my muscle. My body is molding from the inside out. Words fail me so I choose to state the facts. I do not believe that under rivers of flesh, There is something more than carefully arranged organs. I am a human Without a soul. Does that make me a monster?

[elvendara]

Reposting Elmwood on AO3 with some edits. Hopefully it's better =D.

I will try to post once a week, but I am a HUGE procrastinator!

This is, of course, YOORAN! Fantasy with elves, a lich, magic, and D&D flavor!

Oof, I need to redraw these, LOL!

[tennfan2]

Oh hey! It's another video! This one is my file called The Space Between - it's mostly just an induction that focuses on blankness and emptiness. No suggestions other than feeling good when it's done.

You can find the original post when I released it here! (A *lot* of y'all weren't on here when I put this one out!)

[siggiedraws]

Opened a Ko-fi and I’m now taking commissions! Check it outttt

[fizzyxcustard]

I've started a couple of polls regarding future fics. I have specified in each post that if you would like to give me in depth opinions and comments, my ask box is open (and anons are on) and so are my private messages. I am always willing to listen to your ideas, comments, feedback and opinions. :)

[hypnomurps]

Right, sorry for the absence, life hit like a train and fatigue is a bitch but I’m back :]

So what to talk about…. Maybe… we’ll maybe I should start with something easy. See most hypnotists do like using tools. We don’t need them, voices and eyes and whatever are more than enough, the words working themselves into and through your brain, I’m sure you know the feeling, but no, tools are nice.

They make my job guiding you down and your job of drifting ands sinking easier. And pretty much everything can be a tool. A spiral maybe, or the sounds of the world around us, a hand in your hair, massaging your scalp or maybe a metronome. I do like metronomes. But they’re not my favourite. No my personal favourite is the cliche of cliches, the good old pocket watch. Because most wrist watches give me sensory issues I started using one even before I really started doing hypnosis, believe it or not.

Now it might seem overdone and old fashioned, I mean, what’s next? Am I going to tell you how sleepy you’re getting or that your eyelids are starting to droop? No, see there’s more uses for a pocket watch than a glorified pendulum. So let’s open one. See the time, hours, minutes, seconds. And the second hand is ticking on and in and on, there’s no real back and fourth like with a metronome, just onward, round and round, deeper and deeper, maybe it’s starting to pull you down more and more each tick seemingly stronger than the next…

And then there’s the sound. It’s quiet and discreet but it’s there. With every tick there’s an audio component. Tick tick tick…. There you go, now you hear it, don’t you? And of course there’s still the use as a pendulum, the true cliche. Do you think you can keep up with all three at once?

Want to try?

Good.

So three, the motion of the second hand, round and round deeper and deeper

Two, the ticking and noise, disrupting your mind and focus so it can be drawn back, is it fractionation or is it too minor for that? Who knows, really?

And one, the gentle sway back and fourth, back and fourth, pulling your mind deeper making you want to

Drop

Good job. You’re doing well. Just sinking. Down down down.

And you can enjoy this trance, sinking for as long as you’d like, as long as it’s reasonable to drift and then coming back up and feeling oh so lovely.

Have a nice day, I hope you enjoyed

[ournachojesus]

Long break, back. This will happen often. Also the part about the art being consistent? I lied. Oops

New Tune Complex ( 3 ) : Well…. This is awkward.

These will always be short. Next one will prob be ready next week.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /

[tsukiboo]

my works have been slacking recently good lord

[independent-fics]

The Leverage OT3 in Every Episode

Leverage: 01x01 The Nigerian Job

[bugoutreviewgirlie]

hey all! this is an ongoing passion project of mine and it'd mean an incredible amount to me if you guys checked it out and shared it!

[bilaudad]

experimenting with more simplified or cartoon styles, and practicing not being afraid of color and not being so self-conscious showing the process

[1wh4re1]

Okay so more Ghoap x F!Reader. Just a blurb. Also, these will definitely be in whatever order inspiration strikes me first.

You're covered in sweat, tendrils of hair sticking to your face and you swear you swear you can still feel your left side despite the epidural. You've been at this for what feels like days despite it being less than 10 hours.

This wasn't how you imagined the birth of your baby. One partner whose remains had drifted over that beautiful cliffside and the other god knows where who chose to walk away from you. Still, you are grateful for the man holding your hand beside you now.

John Price never imagined he'd be in this situation. Your hand gripping his (quite painfully god your grip is strong), and him wiping away your sweat and tears. He knows he isn't the man who should be here and he knows that he shouldn't have sent Simon to chase a lead so close to your due date even though the man doesn't even know you're pregnant at all.

He watches you flush, tears leaking from your eyes through another round of pushing, and thinks he is quite possibly the biggest bastard on earth for keeping this secret for you.

You're exhausted. Worn out. Dead beat tired. The doctor between your legs encourages you. Only a few more pushes she says and you're almost there. You sob, heaving breaths as more tears stream down your face. Squeezing Price's hand you start to push again, praying that this is the end.

The relief of hearing your baby cry for the first time is overshadowed by the blood rushing through your ears and the wooziness you feel. You can't make out what the doctors are saying.

"What...what are they saying," you slur, tongue feeling heavier than lead in your mouth as you roll your head over to look at Price. "Where's my baby, why can't I see my baby?"

Price tries to reassure you but the room is erupting into chaos around him. The monitors attached to you start to wail.

"BP is dropping."

"She's hemorrhaging."

"We need an OR stat. Page them and tell them we are on the way."

"Sir, we need to move her please go to the waiting room."

The last thing you feel is Price's hand leaving yours before you slip under into a cool abyss.

@thefictionalgemini @ghostslittlegf @oniiloma @astro-ghoul99

[harvey-dent]

why doesn’t the bigger one eat the smaller one

[thomine]

balter

fischl x reader, 1.3k words

balter: to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment.

general audiences, canon compliant, not proofread.

notes: prompt list (req closed) :: requested by @dkniade (thank you!) i hope i did one of your favourite character justice!

As the respected familiar of Prinzessin der Verurteilung, Oz, the Raven Knight, has little say in matters related to where he goes for investigations. It is not him to question the superior instructions of the one he serves either, so he normally ignores any patterns that might pique his interest… But it is challenging to put aside a fourth occurrence in a week. At his altitude, as he soars across a flat mountain top west of Mondstadt, your Adventurers' Guild attire paints you as a geeen speck accented with red. If he wasn't experienced, he would have mistaken you as a violently shaken valberry bush.

You are flinging your arms, twisting your hips, tapping your feet to an obscure rhythm, displaying a raw and energetic performance he wouldn't pay tickets to see.

However, it isn't only him who sees you. Oz is not an ordinary familiar. He acts as the Prinzessin's eyes, and she can't take them off your baltering figure.

He may find no joy in seeing you dance, but the Prinzessin's feelings influence his wings to descend. He rests on a nearby rock behind low bushes, a good distance to notice the details of your expression given his sharp eyesight yet not disturb your performance. He watches intently for the Prinzessin's sake, and when you wrap up your session, Oz flies to Stormterror's Lair to start the Prinzessin's commission.

"Congratulations, Fischl, for another report full of praise from your previous commissioner. He said the information you've collected was perfect." Katherine, the representative of the Adventurers' Guild, places a pouch of mora on the table for the taking. Oz's milady strikes a pose she practices behind the mirror every morning, her victory laugh a show of her strong diaphragm.

She accepts Katherine's praise in that creative way of her's, talking about how a royal such as her will always deliver, the years of traveling worlds is another reason for her quality of work.

Katherine claps with a friendly stiff smile pasted across her face. She is probably one of the few adventurers who can understand his milady's unique speaking patterns, leaving him a spectator. A role he doesn't mind and often finds respite in. It is in these moments of tranquility that Oz likes to take a look around them, observing the citizens strolling by, noticing the clouds ahead, and listening to the gentle breeze. He spots you near the plaza's fountain. You are at the ledge, tossing golden mora into the waters.

After their polite conversation, Fischl does a few more poses to celebrate her successful commission and snags the bag of mora with eager eyes.

As her mouth drools, Oz's milady goes to great lengths to ask if he wants a bite at Good Hunter, to which he accepts. It has been a while since they could rest on evenings since that is the time you dance. But today, you weren't there.

They are about to enjoy their snack when Fischl stops short at the stairs leading to the eatery. Her eyes land on you just as you get off the ledge.

You wave, a wide grin on your face. The Prinzessin turns to Oz with panic in her eyes. She may have practiced her greetings but she was not prepared to face you. In fact, she never believed she could after that incident where she criticised your dance. She really just meant you had to improve in order to be at the stage!

"I never said I wanted to be on the stage," you said then, a forlorn look on your face. "It was meant only for you."

Since then, you never brought up dancing. You weren't in your usual spots either. Fischl would accept extra investigation commissions as an excuse for Oz to take the skies and search Mondstadt for you.

The relief she felt when she saw you dancing freely with tall blades of grass…

Oz doesn't understand you. He understands why his milady made such comments. Your dancing skills aren't anything impressive. Clumsy even. But whenever he stopped to watch your performance, the Prinzessin observing through his view, in such a state their feelings blended and he felt affection—a warm thing in his feathery chest.

His milady emits a nervous laugh, eyes darting left and right for an escape route but it's too late. Ecstasy fuels your legs and you're faster than Oz remembers. Must be all that dancing. In seconds, you've skipped through the flight of stairs and land in front of the Prinzessin.

"Fischl, milady!" You greet, bowing. "The wishing fountain really does work!"

The Prinzessin's mouth hangs open, but she is quick to recover with a comment on how royals like her don't neglect the wishes of their people. She is flushed, nervous, but you laugh and smile even brighter. There is desperation in the way you gingerly grab her hands, which she welcomes. As you invite yourself to interlock with her fingers, she doesn't withdraw. In fact, her face reddens.

"I've been looking for you, but Katherine said you've become exceptionally busy."

She then goes on a spiel about the expected bustling life of someone as herself: traveling, adventuring, and discovering. Due to her lifestyle, she is hard to catch, so you should be grateful that you have been graced with her presence aligning with your need to see her.

"She means, 'Why are you looking for me?'" Oz says.

"It's not something really important…" your enthusiasm falters, eyes deflating to fall to the floor. "But I hope you can see it still. It wasn't right of me to just walk out that day, but… come, I'll show you."

The Prinzessin looks at Oz for help, but Oz knows better than to speak. Plus, since her fingers are interlocked with yours, when you pull her towards the gates of Mondstadt, she—who doesn't want to let go—has no choice but to follow.

Oz flaps his wings, following in tow. Past the bridge, milady catches up with you and an easy conversation flows. She asks how you've been in her own unique way, adding hints for you to ask how she's been which you take. It's about the halfway mark that Oz knows where you're taking the Prinzessin, the route all too familiar.

Not long after, you're on your stage far away from civilisation. In the stretch of grass, it is just you, your milady, and Oz.

"I did my best to improve," you shyly start. You point at a rock that Oz lands on to watch your covertly. You've removed the bushes so there will be no discomfort. "You were embarrassed with other people watching as well, so I thought this would be the best place."

Milady loses a bit of her personally pointing out your efforts to improve. You nod and take a few steps back.

"Would the Prinzessin indulge with me, letting me entertain her for this fleeting moment?"

A small smile graces the Prinzessin's lips. She had shared with Oz one sleepless night that she didn't hate your dancing. It was beautiful in an imperfect way. It was admirable how you didn't care for those who looked at you with weird stares, how you were so assured with your choice to dance despite what others said. It was a confidence she craved, something she told herself she had but on such nights she wondered if she did.

That day, when you told her you only danced for her, it struck her how you were the way you were towards dance because nobody else mattered to you.

She shouldn't have been embarrassed, but she was. And her embarrassment cut deeper than she expected.

She had so many people to prove while you only wanted her approval. Perhaps… she only had a small few to prove too.

Milady then watches as you fling your arms in the air. There is no music, no rhythm, and nothing's really changed from the way you danced in that messy style of yours, but for once it isn't the Prinzessin seeing through Oz's eyes.

Through her eyes, Oz notices the subtle beauty in your authenticity. And as the sun sets a beautiful orange backdrop as your stage, there is only Oz, Fischl, and your confessional moves.

author's note: as you can tell i kind of gave up with fischl's way of speaking lol. i'll tackle that bump when i get to it... another day... for now, since this is a writing prompt i won't tear my hair off for it, haha...