#oops it got long

[symphonicdemise]

Moved from (x) @mistborn

Tarn frowned a little behind his mask when the larger mech looked a little disappointed. "𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒱𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓁, 𝐼'𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝑒𝓉. 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽." There was a soft smile to his words, hoping it would make him feel a little better. His optics followed the cube as he raised it and drained all the liquid down his intake. His optics widened a little when his glossa peaked out. Oh... he'd forgotten about that sinful glossa. How it made him feel not terribly long ago. He shook his helm a little, as if it would will the thoughts away.

"𝒯𝒽𝑒… 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓃?" It was hard to hide the incredulousness from his voice. Just as he asked, Tesarus and Helex were rounding the corner together. The two behemoths were idly chatting before Tarn came into view. He held a digit up to Vaportrail, positioned out of view.

"Blackmarks. Both of you." He said, keeping his attention on his two subordinates. They both groaned in unison.

"Awwh, Come on boss, what for this time?" The smelter asked. Tarn folded his arms over his chassis, tilting his helm curiously before motioning down the hall towards the door that was closing up. "We weren't out that long! Not like anything could've gotten in, this planet is practically deserted." he tried to reason.

It was then that Tarn gently pulled Vaportrail into view as he was lapping at the energon in the cube. Helex went a bit wide eyed, it was rare to find a mech who rivaled his own size that wasn't a combiner.

"As I said, blackmarks for the both of you. You're very lucky that I know who this mech is." He scolded them. "Now, both of you, go help prepare for take off. Wait for my command to depart." He ordered, waving a servo to dismiss them. Helex and Tesarus didn't need any further convincing, retreating away to do as comanded.

"𝐼 𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑜𝑔𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓊𝒷𝑜𝓇𝒹𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈, 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈. 𝒩𝑜𝓌, 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒿𝑜𝒾𝓃 𝓊𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝓊𝑒𝓁𝑒𝒹." He said, turning back to face Vaportrail as he kept lapping at the cube. He reached up and gently pulled the cube away from him. "𝐿𝑒𝓉𝓈.. 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝒸𝓊𝒷𝑒." There was the faintest hint of arousal in his em field, something that he kept close to his frame.

[rainyfroggy]

Hi Rainy!

I really like the way you’ve set up your commission sheet- it looks like you’ve had a bit of experience with making them, and I was wondering if I could ask if you had any tips for artists just starting out on selling comms?

I’m an artist thinking of selling commissions because I’m broke and need to make some $$ for food and living expenses lol. (this is my reblog acct so I don’t have much moved here rn unfortunately.)

I have no idea where to look for advice and Google hasn’t really been the best help as a lot of resources I’ve seen are mostly pros/people in the later stages of making an entire career out of it (which, for my situation right now isn’t exactly what I’m looking for)…

I also don’t really know much about payment methods like Patreon or anything like that so I don’t really know which is best or which to start with.

Any info you could provide would be very appreciated, even if it’s only a little!

Hello! I will try my best to help from my experience and what I heard it works. 1. It all depends on your needs, but you need to be organized. It doesn't matter if you use a notebook, your phone, an excel sheet or whatever: It's important to keep on track who requested a commission, who had paid you and the order you need to follow. Even if this list is only to yourself.

2. This is a universal thing: Make a work email and use it as a contact for customers, paypal and other things in case you don't want to get mixed with personal stuff.

3. I highly recommend using a Google Form or simmilar to receive request of commissions (you can use mine as reference or look on other artists who use it). It will also helps you to put on order the order of commissions and you will spend less time asking the customer a bunch of questions or explaining innecesary stuff. (Ko-Fi also have the tool for commission!).

4. I only use Ko-Fi (for now). I had used it on commissions. It's useful if your method is simple. Allow you to put add ons with its respective price too!

5. It's hard to make a portfolio, but at least make one example of each type of commission you are doing. People gotta see what they are buying.

6. You make the rules. You can see in my cardd I have the Terms of Service where you explain what you do and don't, how long you take to finish a comm, etc.

7. Be as clear and direct as possible. Don't accept commissions you are uncomfortable with. Don't allow people guilt-trip you or start asking to lower your prices.

8. About pricing: Look up people with simmilar skill level and art style as you to make an idea of pricing. You can start with one price and rise it as your skills improve! Set a price you can be satisfied with, or you will feel downhearted.

9. I highly recommed being paid first before start drawing. Be careful of scams too! Never trust a paypal email that isn't official (I say this cus someone tried to scam me last week).

10. I would recommed choosing a few niches of your interest and work on your public from there. It can be an specific fandom, a genre, an animal, a topic... Stuff people can know your work and be sure you are good at it. Example: I draw g/t stuff, so people into it know how I do it and what to expect from me. You will not ask the furry artist to draw you '90 mecha robots right? (THIS MAY OR NOT WORK! draw whatever you want and make you happy. Follow your heart and people will slowy get at your work).

That's it! Uh I'm not an expert, I'm still not big enough to live full from commissions but don't give up! Can be rough at first but keep working!

[givemaycoffee]

It seems you're feeling better today. I'm glad! Have some more questions :)

11, 39, 47, 78, 90

I am! :) And capitalizing on it as best as I can. Thanks for more of these 🥰

11. Do you have any strange phobias?

I don’t know if it’s strange but I have trypophobia. It’s strong enough that I have developed coping mechanisms to deal with it. It can become like an intrusive thought once it’s on my mind. I filter for it on here, and I’m always grateful when someone I follow actually uses the tag so I don’t have to see it. I also haven’t bothered to internalize how it’s spelled (even tho looking at it now it’s really not complicated), but I have the word saved in my notes app because originally I had to Google it and let me tell you… not a fun experience!

39. What time is it?

Aha, speaking of geography. It’s 4:53 pm :3

47. Do you have any obsessions right now?

Not really! Thank goodness tbh. I hyperfixated on Fire Emblem: Three Houses pretty hard when I got into it (June or July), and went down the Dimileth rabbit hole first, then Sylvix. I’m still enjoying Sylvix, but it’s not compulsive like it was when I was well and truly hyperfixated. I’ve been avoiding finishing the CF route, tho, so I’m currently playing Spiritfarer.

78. Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Uh oh! You’ve unlocked Opinions™. The first of which is that insanity is a word I find uncomfortable because it isn’t an official psychological term anymore, it’s mostly used in law these days to indicate severe mental illness, and when the average person genuinely uses it to describe another person they’re often using it to demonize said person’s mental illness. However, I don’t think anyone involved here intended that, so I am just mentioning it because I have met a lot of folks for whom it is a word that personally hurts them, and thus I feel the need to say something.

To answer the actual question, I think it’s looking at it wrong, really. Rather than bringing on creativity, I think mental illness tends to result in unique experiences, both positive and negative, and art is an outlet for all of it. Van Gogh had what seems to be manic depression, and art was a way to express himself. Art therapy is very much a thing for folks with all sorts of mental illnesses. It allows you to explore life, yourself, whatever you want in a way that doesn’t require words (or does, if you express yourself through writing), and can maybe communicate some of what’s going on in your head to someone else who otherwise might have very little understanding. And it can even help you understand yourself, too, sometimes.

So yeah, I think ultimately unique experiences and perspectives make a person more creative, especially in the eyes of someone whose own experiences are very different. It’s all relative, baby! This is also why diversity is super important (beyond just being fundamentally a good thing), because diverse people have diverse ideas and diversity of thought leads to creativity and innovation :3

90. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

First of all - this one is hilarious. Secondly… cry. Fun fact about me, if a zombie apocalypse were to happen, I would like to die, thanks! Don’t wanna deal with it, too scary and depressing. Anyhow - after crying, I would probably do the boring thing which is see if they react to anything, including movement and speech, and go from there. If no movement, J and I get up and leave and probably call my in-laws because they’re the real adults around here. 😂

[voicesofnirn]

@vampiric-bite:

It hadn’t been long since Rei began hiding. Nobody would suspect a small vampire bat to actually be a vampire right? (Well, he thought so).

As he flew back from being a tiny menace to chickens with a few other bats, he couldn’t help but notice someone. Normally he would have avoided people while in this form, but something about this person peaked his interest.

Carefully he angled himself to fly lower, keeping a good distance away. Was it a bad idea to follow? Maybe, but the person seemed friendly.

Ciralinde lingers in the doorway to The Frozen Hearth, relishing one last moment of warmth before stepping fully out into the cold. As she descends the bottom step, she whistles. The sound pierces through the night and returns her palomino horse.

“I apologize, Misca,” she says, petting the mare’s neck. A smile tugs on her lips—this beautiful creature is her favourite gift Skyrim has offered since her arrival. “A long night awaits us.”

She offers an apple in consolation then they set off south. Bundled in robes with hot soup warming her insides, she thinks (hopes) she can avoid a stop in Windhelm and ride directly to Whiterun, where it’s friendlier. 

She rests along the road where she can, taking refuge in Journeyman’s Nook, not for the first time. The now frozen body of the bandit she did away with months ago is still just outside with Misca. She curls her nose at the sight but otherwise ignores it. Flames from her hand light the fire, and she is content sitting at the table with her journal.

[bedlamsblade]

@mortulo -- sc.

     Solus made often to wonder if Hydaelyn’s ungentle hauling of him from the Lifestream was an act of mercy or punishment. Would that he had any idea what for, lest she looked upon him, saw the visage of Emet-Selch and recoiled in Her disgust. He hoped not, as it was not Emet-Selch’s face he bore, but a copy of his own. Since waking up in the tank he’d been haunted by the existential crisis that was the awakening itself--his soul replanted in a body artificially made. Was he real? Was he truly a person? These were the thoughts he oft tried to brush away for fear that he would spiral. And in the event he’d fail, he’d have Miss F’lhammin’s comforting words stored in the back of his mind--a mantra to repeat to calm himself down.

     The facility itself wasn’t as intimidating so much as it was frustrating to look at. Nigh hidden within the reaches of Ilsabard, he’d return to his ill-begotten birthplace with two goals in mind. In truth, he preferred one over the other, and it was in light of these decisions that prompted him to go alone. He would not need to protect anyone and he could simply kill any inside without the possibility of being chastised. Solus had little issue killing the soldiers that guarded the place, making sure to keep quiet and prevent from sounding the alarum. Killing the scientists was a personal affair, but he didn’t do so any less quietly, but merely shoving them into trash receptacles where they belonged.

     Once the facility was all but emptied, Solus turned his gilded gaze onto the towering tanks--the one that had once housed him was now gone, replaced with an emptied slot after he had all but destroyed it in his escape. Placing his hand on the surface of the glass, he looked at himself within, clad in the Imperial regalia, and asleep. Forever asleep. The thought occurs to try and awaken him, and so he does--selecting the tank before him specifically and overriding the controls at the panel before opening the hatch, allowing the fluid to spill out all over the floor before catching the prone body and lowering him to the floor. He tries to speak, tries to gently shake him awake. He lowers his ear to his chest--and there is a heartbeat. But no breathing.

     There’s panic, and he tries to force breath into him, resorting to cardiopulminary resuscitation--but the body before him doesn’t revive. Doesn’t cough into his mouth and struggle to breathe in air. He... he was just that. A body to be used. Just as he himself was. He cradles the clone in his arms, scarce hearing footsteps behind him. Reasoning would leave him for a time, heartache causing his veins to throb. With the now-dying clone’s head in his lap he sits there and struggles to reel himself in, taking the same deep breaths that his fellow clone could not for want of a soul, bringing gloved hands to his face to fight back against the hot sting of tears. He couldn’t save them. So he had but one option left to him. A mercy killing, but within the safety of their pods, he decided. Gently he lays his fellow clone on the floor and makes to stand, but upon noticing the other presence a tad too late, he panics, drawing his pistol and having to force stop himself from immediately firing.

     As if being in a facility full of himselves wasn’t absolutely distressing enough. There he was, standing. Living. Breathing. A soul inhabited this one. And it made the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up.

     ❝ Y-You-- ❞

[joaquinwhorres]

Wren and seven minutes in heaven

Not Fred. Not Fred. Not Fred.

The bottle slowed and the twisting sensation in Wren's stomach grew worse as it crept past Lee and pointed to, of course, Fred. 

"In you two go, then," Nora said, beaming up and Wren and Fred. It might have been perfectly innocent if it weren't for the glint in her eye that Wren recognized too well. Her eyes fell to Nora's hand that subtly pushing her wand under her leg. 

Wren opened her mouth to protest but before she could get anything out, Fred was calling to her.

"Wren, I do believe the point of the game is for us to both be in the cupboard together.”

“Right you are, Fred,” Nora nodded, he grin widening ever so slightly. Wren cast her cousin a dark look and turned to follow Fred into the cupboard, the door shutting behind her. 

The darkness only last a second before Fred used his wand to illuminate the small space. Fred, for his part, was looking down at her very amused. 

“Oh don’t look like that, Wren, it’s hardly the first time the two of us have been in a cupboard together.”  

“That was different,” Wren protested. 

“How so?” 

“Well for one, it was slightly bigger,” she pointed out. She would have gestured to prove her point, but there wasn’t much room for that. While they had taken care to clean out the contents of the broom cupboard, the fact remained that Wren and Fred were still kept fairly close together. There was only just enough room for them to stand shoulder to shoulder

“And for two, we didn’t have people outside expecting us to snog.” 

“You’re planning on snogging me senseless then?” Fred raised his eyebrows, and Wren grew pink. 

“No,” Wren said.

“So, you played this kissing game to...what? Have a private chat?” 

“No,” Wren said again, this time slightly more hesitatingly. She had played the game for the express purpose of making sure Fred didn’t wind up in the cupboard with anyone else, a plan which she now realized was rather flawed at its inception. “I played for Nora,” Wren lied. 

Fred stayed quiet, his face doing much of the talking for him. And what it was saying was that he did not believe her and was rather enjoying watching her squirm. 

“Look, if I didn’t play Nora was going to make my life miserable.” True. “But I just broke up with Simon, and I hardly think I should be running around kissing boys in cupboards.” Also true. 

Fred stepped forward shaking his head. “That’s a simple solution then.” 

“What?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. 

“Just say I kissed you.”

“Wha--” And then his lips were on hers, stealing her breath and cutting off the rest of her question.

[voidhunting]

38?

tbh meme.

What advice would you give to someone new to rp?

      // pick a muse you love, no matter how many blogs of said muse already exist. sure having a muse that is less popular means less blog to compare yourself with/be compared with and maybe less ‘pressure’, but you won’t have as much fun if you didn’t pick them because they interested you in the first place.       ironic coming from me who is stupidly anxious and stressed by the idea of approaching people, but you shouldn’t be afraid to approach a blog as your muse or ooc. people in this community are super welcoming. if you don’t know how to do make something happen between your muses, approach them through dms ooc, and vice versa.      find what suits you best. do you prefer crack? do you prefer developing your muse and give them more depth? long threads? one liners? pick your poison and approach people who seem to have a similar style to begin with.      no one is ‘too good to be approached’. you might look up to their writing, or to the way they format posts, or how they develop/write/worldbuild around their muse, or find the length they can reach with their threads impressive. but that doesn’t mean they are ‘too good’ and you can’t approach them. don’t put people on a pedestal. you’ll only isolate yourself because once you start thinking that way, you’ll risk falling in the ‘i’m not good enough’ spiral and find more and more blogs to be ‘too good’, and it’s also that way that most blogs who’s been around for years/have huge follower counts/are used to write a lot with people they’ve know for a while end up feeling isolated as well because of new blogs not daring to approach them.      reach out. for real, that’s super important. you’re new around, people don’t know you. it’s on you to make yourself visible to people. follow peeps, like some starter calls (be mindful of those made only for mutuals though), send memes. make a promo post once you get a couple of people following you so it’s seen and can be passed around.      and last but not least, have fun. you’re supposed to have fun doing it. if it brings your mood down, or you feel pressured, then something isn’t right. take a step back if needed. irl always comes first, don’t apologize for being busy, we all are and we all understand that. no pressure, no stress, do your best and have fun.

[i-declare-a-kaggath]

Verklempt for my favorite boy dax❤️

verklempt - completely and utterly overcome with emotion - 

(Oh this is excellent for him I’ve been itching to flesh out this snippet B^D)

“I think you need to have a talk with Mama,” Lörem said, resting his cheek on Dax’s head, rubbing small circles across his back. Dax pressed his forehead into Lörem’s chest, trying to hold it all in.

Lörem’s family was so…big. Brothers, sisters, cousins. Aunts and uncles and friends that seemed like family. Cathar must have been much more social–or rather, casually social–than Chiss. He’d been welcomed immediately, and had no idea how to handle any of it. Two of Lörem’s youngest siblings had attached themselves to Dax’s legs before he’d been there ten standard minutes.

It was all so overwhelming. But Dax had been cautiously hopeful until…what was her name? Aunt Sonda. Until Aunt Sonda had said those words.

“Of course we’ve come to Mama’s house,” she scolded a mid-maturity Cathar that mostly avoided Dax. “‘Round here we appreciate family values. What would cousin Lörem think if we didn’t come meet his new fella?”

Family values. The words fell like a cascade of ice and terror. Suddenly everything became too sharp, too loud, too focused. The warm colors burned into his eyes like they were lined with razors. Dax excused himself to the darkest, quietest part of the house. Lörem had followed.

“I don’t…I don’t think I can. I won’t fit in here. There’s too much–”

“Trust me, Dax. You’re gonna feel a lot better if you do. I’ll go deal with everybody else, you just wait here for Mama.”

The knock at the door was gentle as her voice.

“Dax? Can I come in?”

Taking a long, bracing breath, Dax opened the door for her. His face fell into cold neutrality, but he could feel himself cracking. Standing at a respectful, formal ready, his hands pressed fractionally too hard against his thighs as he tried to hold himself in. Mama closed the door quietly behind herself.

Rude. Disgraceful. Inconsiderate. He should have done that for her. The low light didn’t dampen the hot twinkling of silvery trinkets lining the walls. They were too bright, too sharp. It felt like they were cutting his eyes. Dax wanted to shut them, to cover his head and wrap himself up and stay there until the feeling passed, but he couldn’t.

“Lörem said you wanted to talk to me?” Mama pressed.

“I’m fine Ma–ah. Hm. Ma’am. I only needed to take a moment to…acclimate.” Quit muttering. Speak clearly. Don’t waste their time with your hesitation.

She took his hands from his sides, running her soft thumbs over his knuckles while she smiled gently to him. The casual touch was foreign to him. He tried not to recoil.

“It can be a lot, can’t it? A whole new planet, and people you’ve never met. Some of the younger folk can get a little rowdy. They’re excited to meet you, but if you need to take a moment there ain’t nothing wrong with that. Recon we do things a little different ‘round here, but our way ain’t the only way. If you need us to do somethin’ for ya all you need to do is ask.”

Her smile was the only thing Dax could handle looking at in the hyperclarity.

“I think, Ma’am,” Dax said, struggling not to clench his fingers, to hold hers tightly to him, “That I am the one who will need to behave differently.”

“Oh now don’t you worry about you, hon. You just be yourself, and we’ll love whoever that is. Our boy’s got a good head on his shoulders and we trust him to make his own decisions. If that decision is loving you, then we love you too. ‘Round here we appreciate family valu–”

He couldn’t stop himself that time. Dramatic. Unnecessary. Ridiculous. Dax struggled with himself and lost. Wrapping his arms around himself, he turned away from her.

“I’m not…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Dax sweetheart, is there something wrong with what I said? I don’t want you gettin’ the wrong idea about my meaning.”

She didn’t touch him again. Didn’t command he look at her. He knew he should, that he was supposed to, but took refuge in the small quiet that he had while he could.

“I didn’t…I couldn’t fit into what family values I had before. And now…with everything so different, how can I now? I can’t be who I’m supposed to be. I can’t be…”

“Well now Dax, we do put an emphasis on family values, but you can’t get so wrapped up in family values that you forget to value your family." 

He had to close his eyes. The too much of everything pierced into him. He could feel the tears, a sting that began in his throat as he clenched his teeth to hold it all down.

“Can I give you a hug, Dax?”

He answered with a nod, and sobbed verklempt into her shoulder.