#its late but it still counts

[simlicious]

Hey Simlicious!

I know Simblr appreciation day has long well passed, but I do want to pass something along as well :)

I really adore your CC, the patterns you make are precisely what I'm always looking for and get really excited when you release new ones! It's absolutely MAGIC to me how you get such difficult patterns (like tartan and wool) into actual TS3 patterns! I still have no idea how you do it lol! Not only are your patterns great, your tutorials still to this day help me out when I forgot about things.

I remember back in the days I was this wee-modder, I barely knew how to do anything, and I'd ask these big ts3 tumblrs for help... though in those days, it was quite hard to get proper help on tumblr.

I was honestly getting more and more cautious to ask for help after the many rejections or ignored messages, till I reached out to you for help. That help that you showed me inspired me to try to help people as much as possible too! That was precisely what this community needed and you showed it right there and then :)

Honestly, I'd even go as far that you got me where I am currently and I can't thank you enough for holding out a hand when I was feeling so desperate in those days. Thank you for that ❤

I can't wait to see what you got cooking up for 2024!

Thank you so much for these words. They mean so much to me that they made me cry - in a good way!

I feel so honored. This is everything a teacher could ever wish for! IMO, a good teacher encourages learning to help yourself. This is a huge reason why I explain not only the how but the why. The hows are fundamental to developing further curiosity about how things work. Combined with the ability to recognize good practices and bad ones and the ability to learn from your own mistakes, you have all the tools needed to learn more on your own. I'm so glad my approach worked for you like it did! It is so satisfying to teach people like you who have a big thirst for knowledge. I noticed early on how well you picked things up and dove into other rabbit holes on your own (I'm so impressed how well you know the innards of s3pe, for example). Sorry if this is a bit cringe, but I am so proud of you and how far you've come 🥳 You also pay your knowledge forward by writing great tutorials yourself and by building a whole new simblr community.

As for the next year, I actually want to teach more and create new tutorials! It means so much to me to be able to share my knowledge and experience and help people create their own Sims content, to see how their work improves over time. And we all profit from more cool CC after all 😂

[itslilacokay]

(lllate...) CHOSENWEEK DAY 3 : INTERACTIONS

i swear they rehearsed this

also dont worry theyre fine, adobe animate isnt though

+ a bonus, based off this community post

forgot to add promptlist and obligatory chosenweek announcement post for context blahblah yeahhh yayay blah

[coline7373]

« We should have grown old together… »

[deathclassic]

A.U GUST

Week Three: School/Work August 19th: Handy Man

"So" Mickey smirks "Heard you wanted me to check out your pipe"

or

the one where Mickey is the apartment blocks maintenance guy and Ian keeps 'accidentally' breaking things in his apartment so he has an excuse to see Mickey.

@gallavichthings

[oudkee]

a is for astral

[variationsonacloud]

happy mcpriceley monday‼️

[malicious-leporine]

"I know just what to do!" Springtrap laughed in his throat.

And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and coat.

He chuckled, and clucked, "What a great bunny trick!"

"With this hat and coat, I look just like Saint Nick!"

[vamp-bites]

Vashwood watercolor doodle for @acetrigunweek day 5: casual nudity :)

Based on/a redoing of an older sketch of mine that ill leave under the cut!

This was sketched back in September. I've noticed a habit of mine of sketching vashwood shirtless, it's fun, i can visibly shove my transgender agenda on them (except I accidentally covered where WW's top surgery scars would be with Vash's arm this time oops)

[coolsvilleprincess]

Had an itch to draw Mortifer and Nikara because I was thinking about them teaming up so now it's the annual Warlock of the Year party and the theme is fur coats (I imagine Vincent's is faux but the other two who really is to say)

I do wonder how they would interact in a situation where both of them and Vincent are all lurking around the same party. Vincent and the gang attending the same awards party as both of Van Ghoul's exes would be a fun concept I think.

[wovenvessel]

Day 2 of Deere Week!

[moeblob]

Alright I told someone I would give propaganda for these two so here we go. As a warning, I didn't play mobile or Re-Mind soooooooo. Yeah there's that. I know they're apparently involved in past stuff but shhh.

So first off, everyone's weapon is super useful! Except theirs. Which I always thought was really funny? Even in Re:CoM Zexion's book was more direct than these two. I really enjoyed them just as the most indirect fighters? And figured they'd be pretty chill and after playing KH2 as a kid I'm like. I think Luxord would be most tolerable to music while vibing. He could play Solitaire or something while Demyx played music and possibly chatted. Therefore, my younger self was like "it's perfect".

ALSO CONSIDERING THEIR NUMBERS! And the line in KH3 during the scene where Demyx is like "yup I got benched", they've probably got a history. However, the number they get originally is supposed to be the order they joined. So with Marluxia and Larxene obviously tied together in the past, all I can think of is these two just being absolute bums wandering around pre-Organization and just hitch hiking their way into a cult. Which is also REALLY funny to me because what if they joined at the same time but Demyx got to be IX and Luxord is X.

Demyx would hold his rank over his head for the dumbest stuff (in my head canons of the past).

Like there's so many things we specifically do not know about these two so basically, until I'm proven absolutely incorrect in game (which might have happened and I just don't know) ! I think they'd be a good match.

And I mean, it's also just (gestures) LOOK AT HOW CUTE THEY ARE. Great designs and I think that's good enough for me!

[homoeroticchess]

musical theatre tumblr & mutuals whatre ur favourite underrated / niche musicals.

[wittymumbledon]

because it only feels fitting, here's a little evolution of all the bills i have drawn over the years (a billvolution, if you will), spanning from 2019 to (quite literally) today

[worldsokayestdragon]

GreedxLing Week Day 5: Regrets

Read here on AO3

Greed wasn’t the type of guy who had many regrets. He went for what he wanted when he wanted it, and he didn’t waste time moping over what might have been. 

Oh sure, some things stuck with him, (Like blood swirling through dirty water, limbs floating by as he failed again and again to strike a single blow against the bastard who’d done that. Like blood on his own hands and a small body crumpled on the floor of the nightmarish tunnel he’d been told to guard, a face that became familiar too late stuck forever in an expression of betrayal.) but for the most part he let any regret he might feel go as he focused on his next big plan.

Even now that he was dying for good when he should have had a few more centuries of life in him, Greed didn’t have any regrets. It had been less than five minutes since he’d found out he’d been deluding himself about what he wanted for his entire existence, but he’d always been quick to adapt.

He’d found his way to what he’d truly desired regardless.

Ed was a good friend. That was why so many people cared about him. And it was obvious he cared about Greed, even if Greed never got around to telling him he felt the same way.

He hadn’t thought that Lan Fan girl liked him at all, but now she was looking up at him with hurt in her eyes, like she really cared that he was dying before they could get to know each other better. She was tough as nails, that one, and the most loyal person he’d ever met. It was a pleasant surprise that she had any positive feeling for him at all.

And, of course, there was Ling.

Ling was…everything. 

Everything a guy like Greed could hope for and more. 

Kind enough to want power not for himself but to help his people, and selfish enough to refuse to trade any of those people to get it. Smart and calculating, ruthless when necessary but never needlessly cruel, fucking deadly with a blade. 

Not to mention perceptive enough to see through Greed’s bullshit, with all the patience needed to ease Greed into seeing through it himself. Greed probably never would have recognized that what he truly wanted was friendship–much less admitted to it–without Ling’s influence.

Ling was the best friend Greed had ever had.

Leaving him hurt. Lying to him hadn’t felt too great either. 

But it was the only way to keep his father from killing Ling too, so Greed didn’t regret that either. He was far too greedy to let someone kill his best friend.

No, Greed didn’t have any regrets as he looked down, taking in the sight of his friends one last time. It really had been enough.

Ling looked away from Greed, which was a little disappointing. From his vantage point, drifting away above the battlefield, Greed could just barely hear Ling say Lan Fan’s name.

The girl nodded once, a determined look on her face, and then…threw something at Greed? 

Rude! No respect for the soon-to-be dead.

Whatever it was seemed to warp in shape as it sailed through the air, its arc unerringly bringing it right between Greed’s eyes. It was bright red.

Greed realized that it must be the philosopher’s stone Lan Fan had found right before it hit him.

The untethered, floating sensation that had been carrying Greed out of this lifetime disappeared, and he felt he’d been swimming in a giant tub when the plug was pulled, carried down and down by an irresistible current. 

The sky and the battlefield and his friends all disappeared, and Greed found himself once again suspended in a familiar, red-tinged void. The screaming around him was as loud as it had ever been–something you got used to and stopped hearing unless something reminded you to listen after a while–but Greed could tell that it was different than before. New voices from a new stone.

(Greed wondered if he could talk to all of these souls, get to know them like Ed’s dad had done for the ones in him, or if you needed to start that right after the stone was made so people didn’t have time to lose their sense of self.)

Something shifted again, and Greed found himself looking across the void of souls and into Ling’s face. Just like old times.

Ling didn’t struggle to find his footing this time, body and mind already accustomed to sharing this space with Greed. After barely a second to reorient himself to the new stone, Ling’s eyes locked onto Greed and he surged forward.

And punched Greed in the face. 

Once again, rude! Everyone was attacking him today, and he didn’t even have his ultimate shield in here to protect himself.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You idiot,” Ling snarled, winding back to punch Greed again.

Greed was ready this time, and projected an arm for himself to catch Ling’s hand. Ling reached to hit him with the other hand, and Greed caught that too. Ling struggled to keep swinging at Greed, but the homunculus didn’t let him go.

“Why am I an idiot? I just saved the day, ya know.” This really was not the reaction Greed was anticipating for his noble sacrifice.  

“You were only thinking about yourself!”

“That’s kind of my whole deal, Ling.”

“No it isn’t,” Ling insisted. “You know it isn’t. And you lied to me! You promised we’d rule Xing together and then you left me.”

Ling was crying.

Ling was sobbing, and he’d stopped trying to pull away from Greed’s hands, clinging to them instead.

“You left me,” Ling repeated. “I was all alone. I don’t want to be alone like that again. It doesn’t matter if Lan Fan had a philosopher’s stone, I need you.” 

All the regret Greed hadn’t felt as he was dying slammed into him now. 

He hadn’t meant to upset Ling. He’d never wanted to make Ling cry. He’d been trying to protect him, to save him.

Regret and guilt churned uncomfortably inside of Greed.

Hesitantly he pulled Ling toward him and into a hug. Or as close to a hug as two soul projections–one human shaped and the other mostly a floating face–could have.

Ling went easily, wrapping his arms around Greed so tightly it might have been a problem if Greed needed to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” Greed murmured, the sound nearly lost to the cacophony around them. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep you safe. Father was going to kill you, too.”

“We could have fought him together,” Ling argued. “We should have fought him together.”

They really shouldn’t have–they would have both ended up dead–but Greed didn’t say that. Instead he just rubbed a hand over Ling’s back in a way he hoped was soothing.

“Please don’t leave me again.” Ling whispered.

“Never.” Greed wrapped his arms even tighter around Ling. “I’ll never leave you again if I have any choice about it. I promise.” 

He hoped Ling believed him, but he couldn’t be sure how much trust he’d damaged with his one and only lie.

Ling pulled back, and Greed reluctantly let him go. 

He didn’t go far, just putting enough space between them to look into Greed’s face. 

Before leaning right back in and kissing Greed.

Greed’s mind screeched to halt. This wasn’t something he’d ever expected, and only partly because in this form Greed didn’t have what would traditionally be considered a human mouth.

Ling was amazing. Ling was perfect, really, and he was a prince. He could have anyone in the world, so why the hell was he wasting his time kissing Greed?

Ling pulled back when Greed didn’t respond, too stunned to kiss back. The prince looked embarrassed and a little afraid.

“I’m sorry,” Ling rushed to say. “I should have asked first, or–or not done that at all. I was just–I was so scared when you were gone, and then I was so relieved to have you back, but that’s no excuse. Please forgive me, we can forget that this ever–”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Greed took Ling’s face in both his hands and pulled him in for another kiss.

It was better than Greed had ever imagined, and not just because he’d never let himself imagine it. He’d wanted it, of course. Ling was his person, the one he could admit–at least to himself–that he cared about as more than a possession even before he’d realized that he wanted that with the others too. Ling knew Greed better than Greed knew himself, and that went both ways. Of course he wanted Ling to be his in every way.

But people had to want to belong to him, or there wasn’t any point to it. And Greed still wasn’t sure what Ling saw in him.

He definitely saw something. He pulled Greed impossible closer and deepened the kiss.Greed was a bit worried at first about his own sharp teeth, but judging from Ling’s enthusiasm, that wasn’t even a problem.

Eventually they pulled apart again, and this time Ling grinned at Greed.

“Does this mean you still want to come rule Xing with me?”

Greed laughed and tucked a bit of hair behind Ling’s ear as he answered. “Yeah, of course I’ll rule Xing with you. You don’t even have to ask.”

It was no King of the World, but Greed had never truly wanted that anyway. He would gladly rule a country with Ling. He would gladly rule just one clan with Ling.

Greed would happily move to a farm and rule nothing but a bunch of chickens if Ling asked him to.

He knew the hurt was still there from his lie, from his near death. He could feel it in the way Ling clung to him, afraid he’d disappear if he let go for a moment. 

Greed would spend the rest of their lives making that up to him. And with the brand new philosopher’s stone within them, he would have plenty of time to do it.

[cathalbravecog]

i like it when ppl draw this freak with pants like that. woe. ms paint gwam be upon ye. mole if u see this, this is dedicated to u

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

My payment for the ficlet:

Could I just get Zedaph being a silly? Thanks!

S.O.S / 88

words: 2,587 warnings: implied robot injury / abandonment a03 link! (i have an a03 now!!)

When Zedaph had first found her in the scrapyard, she’d been little more than a telegraph sounder. She wasn't even capable of making dihs or dahs, just dots and dashes. She was, by every definition of the word, useless; discarded, unuseable, utterly inutile… Broken. But Zedaph had never believed in such a word. Things were never really broken; just… temporarily decommissioned! They could be in states of disrepair, but never beyond repair. Everything could always be mended, rebuilt, improved; everything could always be fixed. That was why he came to the scrapyard in the first place. Zedaph knew what it was like to feel broken. He felt sympathy for every machine discarded by its creator in a wasteland of flotsam and jetsam, deserted and dejected. And so, whenever he wandered across one of these poor orphaned apparatuses, he felt it was his duty to try to give them what their inventor had not: A home. A purpose. Besides, it was much easier to fix an abandoned machine than to make one from scratch, especially back when he hadn't had the funding to afford his own materials. Upon closer inspection, it looked like her developer had intended for her to be a translator of sorts. A humanoid polygotic interpreter AI which had been designed to serve as an assistant to foreign diplomats and ambassadors. Scavengers had had their way with her, however, and so she didn't even have the tools left to serve as a functional morse code transliterator, let alone a functional world-wide translator. There was a twisted sort of irony in the fact that the AI meant to translate for others was unable to even properly translate her own thoughts and feelings into words, able to process the words being spoken but never able to understand them. Able to talk but never able to speak. A translator who couldn't even translate herself.

For the first few weeks when Zed had been working on fixing her transmitter, she always kept repeating the same string of sounds: Dot, dot, dash. Dot, dot, dash. She made the noise so often, it became an association, and Zed decided that was just what he would call her in meantime - a bit of a mouthful, sure, but wasn't Dot Dot Dash a better name then Unnamed Abandoned Appartus Number 21? It was just a temporary title until he found a way to get her communications sorted and she could come up with their own name, anyway. Though it turns out, she had been saying her own name, in a way: Dot, dot, dash. E-E-T. Ease-Enhancing Translator. Her hostname. He'd only figured that out when he found the marque on her forehead about three weeks into her repair. For a genius, he could be a little bit stupid, sometimes. Maybe really stupid. When he did finally figure out how to repair her transmissions, for about a month she was stuck only speaking in Dutch, because he'd accidentally selected the system's default of Netherlandic as his preferred language instead of his own of English in his excitement to get her up and running. And, with her operating system now in a foreign language, it was incredibly difficult to figure out how to turn on her bilateralism. Not his brightest moment. But it didn't mean it didn't lead to bright moments. Even though they couldn't communicate, at least not through language, that didn't mean they couldn't communicate in other ways. That didn't mean that, over that month, he didn't learn that she was an absolute menace at Mario Kart (Guess the Dash part of her name really rung true!), that she'd become an immediate fanatic of Hamilton, and that Sesame Street was her favourite comfort show. Just because they couldn't exchange words didn't mean they couldn't exchange glances, exchange touches, exchange laughs, exchange smiles. Just because he couldn't understand a word she said didn't mean he couldn't understand that he was falling head over heels for her. It took an embarrassing amount of time and effort, but eventually, inevitably, he finally managed to repair her communication system. And, finally, they managed to have their first conversation.

"So… what's your name?" It was a bit odd, asking the question; such a simple, innocent question, but it felt wrong. It was the sort of thing you asked somebody you just met. But they hadn't just met… not really. It felt like they'd known each other for years. All their lives. And, yet, these were the first words they'd ever spoken to each other. He - literally - knew her innerworkings inside and out, and yet, he didn't even know her name. They knew everything about each other, but at the same time, nothing at all. The robot replied with a simple answer to a simple question: "Dot, Dot, Dash." "Oh — oh my goddess, oh dear, oh no — did I accidentally set you back to Morse Code again?!" Oh, this was horrendous, he'd been trying to help but he'd put her back all the way back to square one— "No, no," A jittery, high-pitched sound came out of the android's voicebox, a soft laugh as she reeled Zed's hand away from her inner panel. "That's my name." "It is?" Zed asked, baffled and still slightly breathless from the scare, before he jumped slightly with the startled realisation, "Oh — oh! Oooh, Because, that's what I've been calling you — no, no, nonono, that's — that doesn't have to be your name, you see, I just… well, it felt awful drab calling you by a model number, and you always used to go dot, dot, dash!, So I was just using it as a placeholder, which, I… which I am realising, was perhaps slightly insensitive, it's little better then calling you boop beep bop, now that I'm thinking about it, it would be like naming a dog woof woof… Oh my gosh, I am so sorry—" "— I like it." "—Oh, I'm such a dunce, imagine calling a duck quack quack, or a chicken cluck clu— wait, you… what?" "Yeah!" She smiled. "It's silly! Who cares if it's a bit on-the-nose?" She booped his nose for emphasis before she continued, "It feels like me." "O—oh! Well… well, in that case. It's… It's nice to meet you, Dot Dot Dash! I'm Zedaph." He held a hand out for her to shake out of cordiality. Dot stared at his outstretched hand dubiously, her features almost betraying offence at his attempt at courtesy, enough to make him almost begin to worry it had been a test to see if he'd fall for calling her such an offensive name and he'd fallen for it, like an idiot… and before he had a chance to profusely apologise again and retract both his hand and his statement, she abruptly grabbed him by his offered hand and pulled him in… …to a hug. "Zedaph… I've watched you fling an oreo from your forehead into your mouth on multiple occasions, you once bit into an onion like an apple and then rubbed it on your face to make yourself cry, you sleep with a mint condition package of Minions playing cards underneath your pillow, your favourite colour is red even though everything you own is pink… I already know you, Zed. And you know me. Just because we didn't know each others' names doesn't mean we didn't know each other… and it certainly doesn't mean this is our first time meeting. This isn't an introduction… it's just… finally getting a chance to say hello." "O—oh." Zed felt his voice crack. There was nothing between them now, no barrier, language or otherwise. His voice was soft as he whispered, "Hello." Her voice was softer, a smile on her lips, as she whispered back, "Hallo."

Not another word fell from either of their lips. They didn't need words. Sometimes, actions were more powerful than words. And their lips' actions spoke louder than any sentence they could have strung.

.. / .-.. --- …- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-

Safe to say, everybody on Hermitcraft loved Dot. And not just because she was one of the most talented people on the server - which she was, indisputably. She'd been built as an interpreter, but her skills were far from confined to linguistics…. she made the most thrilling commercials and logos for the shops in the Shopping District in all of it's history: Lookie Lookie at My Bookie, Shade-E-E's, Beefy Stores, Lamps Plus, ODEA… that was just to name a few successful bussinesses' whose success could wholly be attributed to Dot. She was also an absolute marvel when it came to the political field, somehow simultaneously making adverts for both Mumbo, Scar, and Plopper's mayor campaigns without either party realizing she was also advertising for every opposition, playing every side of the spectrum. And then, later, she pulled the exact same thing with HEP, The Podzol Party, and The Mycelium Resistance… This feat was one that could either be attributed to her astounding intelligence or the Hermits' astounding lack of intelligence. She was also a stupefying film director, and, in a similar vein, a stupefying music video director! Maybe too stupefying of a music video director. He still had nightmares about Bohemian Keralisody. And he couldn't help but still be a little lingeringly offended that both Poultry Man and Iskallman got their own fan edits but Wormman, the significantly cooler superhero of the server, got ziltch. Not that it was personal, just an astute observation from an outsider with no stakes in the superhero business whatsoever. He really didn't get why Poultryman of all people was her favourite superhero… to the point she'd requested he manufacture her a pair of bionic chicken wings. She even had him provide her with a chicken soundboard so she could communicate with her new brethern… which she had specifically requested not be made with real chickens' voices, as they could not consent to being recorded and doing so would infringe upon their rights, so the soundboard ended up just being Zed going buck, buck, buckawk! into a microphone for her at various pitches and inflections to use as she saw fit. She even ended up making an alter ego by the name of Stanley in an attempt to become Poultryman's sidekick, despite the fact there were much cooler superheroes out there to sidekick for besides a chicken in a trenchcoat. For completely random example: Wormman. Wormman was much cooler! And actually looking for sidekicks! Not that Zed was jealous. Not at all! Just a third-party observation.

Anyways. You'd think, surely, being the top graphic designer, commercial producer, film producer, and music video producer in the game was impressive enough of a resume… no, her awesomeness didn't stop there, not even close. She also dabbled in the armour stand business, and even further, became one of the server's best castle architects. Which was quite was a feat, given it seemed every season at least somebody had to build a grand castle of some sorts. But her castles were better than all of them - better then the NHO Castle, The Red Sky Bay Castle, Coe's Quest Castle, Wels' Cathedral, Bdubs' Castle, The Area 77 Castle, Stress' Ice Castle, RentheKing's Castle, The… wow, Zed was just realizing, Hermitcraft really did have a lot of castles. But, digressing! Her castles were the best castles. And that wasn't even just him being biased in his girlfriend's favour - that was just a fact. If monarchy on Hermitcraft didn't have a reputation for ending with a HoTgUy to the face, he would have crowned her Queen of Hermitcraft. It seemed the only thing she couldn't do was hit the high note in Hamilton's Burn… an feat she was coming closer and closer to achieving every day, which terrified Zed, for he was sure once she did so she'd become the epitome of perfection on all fronts and would transcend this mortal plane in a state of sublime quintessence.

Luckily for Zed, though, Dot had no intent to transcend. As much as Zed raved about her accomplishments, which were impressive in their own right, she wasn't going anywhere while she hadn't completed her greatest accomplishment of all. Her life's mission. Dot wanted to make sure nobody ever struggled like she had again. Words, vocabulary, verbality… Language itself was it's own 55-pin ladder puzzle. She was built to be a translator, and a translator she would be… not just for other languages, but for languages within languages, for inflections and undertones and connotations and implications that might as well have been their own language. She didn't want to let linguistic barriers to prevent somebody from living their best life… from saying hi to the love of their life. If she'd given up trying to speak English, she'd have never gotten the chance to tell Zed she loved him in words he would understand. And if he had given up on repairing her auditory processor, she'd have never gotten the chance to understand when he told her he loved her in words she'd understand. She still had a long way to go to be the global translator she was built to be, she didn't speak near seven-thousand languages nor with the fluency she would have liked, but that was okay. Because one of the languages she could speak was English - and, if anybody struggled with the language, just like she used to, she wanted to be there to help. To be what Zed had been to her — a teacher, a friend, and a crutch. The first person she helped, of course — coming full-circle — was Zedaph himself. The conversation went a little something like this: "Zed, dear, could you bring Danny's leash downstairs?" "Hm?" "I asked if could you bring Danny's leash downs—" "Come again?" "I SAID COULD YOU BRING DANNY'S LE—" "PARDON??" And that was how they learned that being in constant proximity to loud industrial machinery and exploding himself for comedic effect on a near-daily basis was not very good for his eardrums. It didn't take her long to diagnosis him with partial hearing loss, prescribe him with proper ear protection, and invent something to help. CCs she called it, or Closed Captions. Not a very original name, but it got the point across! She never really understood Zed's tendency to give things elaborate names like The Chickenerator, or Zombie Plinko, or The Celestial Cosmodrome… well, actually, she supposed she couldn't blame him for that one, but, the point with the first two still stood! The CCs were a simple device; a pair of contact-lenses that provided real time, accurate translations of what was being said in the corner of the wearer's vision. It was even toggleable! A subtle way to get subtitles in your subsidiary. And it wasn't soon after she'd made Zedaph his pair that word spread, and GeminiTay appeared at her doorstep to politely inquire what it could cost to have a similar device manufactured for herself. Gem didn't suffer from quite the same plight as Zed, but instead with an auditory processing disorder, which made Dot realise how helpful her invention could actually be to the Hermit masses… whether hard-of-hearing hermits, second-language hermits, hermits with auditory processing disorders, or even just hermits who preferred reading over listening… She was helping people. Even if only two, the fact she could even just help two people struggle a little bit less with the language she had struggled with for so long made it worth it. It made it so, when Zed praised her for how indisputably awesome she was, she could smile, and say, without hesitation, "I know!"