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blorbosinmyheadcentral · 5 months

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your art makes me explode in a positive way like

im chewing and swallowing it in an aggressive way like

it's just SO good im melting ilove your shading and KEHEKEBEKJDJF

anwayshi hello do you happen to have any headcanons for showtime rolls on the floor and dies

Thank you so much, really appreciate it!

Oh God I don't know if this will read as coherent because my thoughts about Showtime are all over the place. But I'll try to format this the best I can

✨Showtime HCs! ✨

Their relationship starts when they start spending time together.

(The reason why they do so could vary. In Supervised Machine Learning's case, Pomni becomes something of a "tutor" to Caine; They discover that they work well together, and the other's company can be quite pleasant!).

So Pomni and Caine build a weird, but comforting friendship, and all is well.

Then the feelings appear.

Caine is the first to realize he fell in love.

It sounds illogical but hear me out… it'd be really funny--

Ok no seriously I think Caine can actually feel. Keyword "can". He's very much still a machine and it shows in the pilot. But like his inspiration (AM), Caine is also a rogue AI. Whatever his programming originally intended him to do, he probably doesn't follow it as closely now as back when he was created (which is a whole other post).

Caine knows what love is and the extend it can go, since the Moon is so open about her feelings. He just doesn't like the Moon back specifically haha (sorry Moon) :}

All this to say, I do believe this is within the realm of possibility for him. (Not that it's ever gonna happen towards anyone in the show. These are just wishful shippy thoughts).

He might not recognize it as love at first, because it manifests in such a different way from his one reference point.

His friendship with Pomni had gone through phases.

When they first met, he continuously touched her with no concern for how she felt.

Learning from and about Pomni herself led him to come to respect her boundaries (and becoming mindful of everyone else's).

Then they're close friends, and gradually, Pomni does not mind his regular wacky, touchy-feely self. So Caine acts as he had always done before.

Caine expresses his love for Pomni with physical gestures and his undivided attention.

When they teleport to travel to other places, he holds her close so she doesn't get too dizzy; he pats her head to reassure her; he touches her arm to get her attention; he grabs her hands when he's excited about her ideas; he holds eye contact for prolonged periods of time; and he touches, and touches, and touches, and touches.

It's selfish, and so he keeps it buried in his deepest 0's and 1's. But he'd like to keep hanging out with Pomni, having her in his sight, and feel the texture of her gloved hands until the end of time.

Despite all this, to him, virtually nothing changed.

What? He's spending time with Pomni as he'd always been doing, and behaving as he'd always behaved!

It's Bubble of all people that has to point out that, "Hey boss. I think you WANT her!"

Absurd. Nonsense. Preposterous! It is merely a relationship of mutual support and affection between a ringmaster and his trusted, former-human companion. Nothing more.

(Declaring his love to her unprompted didn't ever cross his mind, so there's no way it could be that. Is there?)

Caine finds out that yes, there is.

Pomni had always been a nervous wreck, but her mind state becomes more manageable over time. She eventually adjusts to the circus life like everyone else did.

"Accepting" her fate is a different story. The will to escape, to remember, never really leaves. She's just more careful about it.

So when she starts working with Caine - to improve life so people don't go abstracting anymore, and hopefully find a definitive exit - she's not expecting to end up liking her time with him.

Not that she'd absolutely hate it, either. He's… "okay"… Just-- outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space, he keeps touching her, and it makes her die a little every time.

If he's up to listening, though… it can't be that bad, right?

Turns out that no, it wasn't that bad.

Yes, he is outlandish, loud, he keeps invading her personal space and touching her. But she explains what she means to him, clearly and patiently, and he makes an effort to do better. An actual effort.

Sometimes he'd misinterpret what she meant - the ambiguity of human language - and the new games would go horribly. But little by little, his efforts make life overall better. Something reminiscent of actual, real life, the one they've all forcibly left behind.

And he tries, and he tries, and Pomni finds herself enjoying the process as much as the good results.

Pomni likes Caine's eagerness to learn. His enthusiastic attitude borders on silly, and the absurdity makes her laugh on occasion. When faced with the prospect of a "real" exit, she loves his upbeat optimism.

When she's not hanging out with Ragatha, Jax, Gangle, Zooble and Kinger, she begins to enjoy spending quality time with Caine.

Each one of their hang outs is a new surprise. They make a picnic in the tallest mountain exactly in between day and night. They learn to dance - while floating in the air. "Since you asked, here's a DIGITAL camera! Let's take pictures of the Void for one tenth of a second at a time!"

Sometimes he just comes by Pomni's room, and they end up losing track of time. Just chatting about how things have been, what they could be, and what to do next. Ideas and ideas and ideas.

Before Pomni knows it, she's comfortable enough that recalling his old habits makes her not dread them anymore. So when Caine stands close and lightly touches her arm due to oversight, she makes sure he knows it's all right.

And they keep spending time together, and he touches, and touches, and touches her. Pomni, in turn, feels lighter, and lighter, and lighter. Peaceful, at ease. Dare she say, happy, even.

Life is not perfect. As it stands though, it's good enough. No one has abstracted. No one is at risk of abstracting so far.

Progress is slow, but the research for an exit continues, and she is hopeful. The thought of actually leaving grows closer to reality. But a part of her feels heavy.

When it occurs to Pomni that leaving the Amazing Digital Circus means leaving Caine behind, she is alarmed by how much she'll miss him.

It'll hurt. Badly. So much the thought pains her even now.

The moment Pomni realizes this, she comes to the unexpected conclusion that she may like Caine a little more than she thought she would.

This later leads to an interesting discussion with Ragatha.

By the time Pomni comes to that conclusion, Caine is already down bad.

Neither has any idea that the other is in love with them.

Cue dumbasses trying to deal with their feelings while the potential conflict the escape brings looms over their heads.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

#showtime #tadc showtime #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #showtime ship #cherpiet #Really appreciate how their dynamic can blur the line of friendship/romance so easily #Supervised Machine Learning is just. *gestures at all that*. minus the romance #Also sorry for taking so long to answer the ask I am not good at answering asks #I don't always know what to say #I wish I had what gooseworx has. She is a big insp #long post

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

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I posted the below on my Facebook. I am secretly trying to head things off at the pass. Every time people see pictures of me out and about, they think I have been magically cured or my health status has improved. And I know going to Florida is going to give people that impression.

But also, I just wish a few of my relatives could understand my situation better. And why I didn't come to Christmas. And why I might try to come to Christmas now.

I guess I'll see how this goes.

-----------------------------------

One of the biggest struggles I've had my entire adult life is explaining why I appear fine whenever people see me. I say I am very sick and bed-bound and then they see me and I am out of bed and talking and joking and... a normal healthy person.

What many don't realize is I am making a choice.

A choice to get sick.

I can use up all my energy in a short time frame to accomplish a difficult chore or entertain a friend or go to a doctor, but that is going to have a consequence.

The more I do, the more severe the consequence.

In the ME/CFS world this is called "post-exertional malaise." (for those interested, you can read more about it here: https://rthm.com/art.../what-is-post-exertional-malaise-pem/ )

Imagine every time you wanted to do something, you were *choosing* to get the flu.

Take a walk, get the flu.

Exercise, get the flu.

Spend a night out with friends, get the flu.

And you might be thinking, "Okay, it can't be as bad as the flu. I've had the flu and the flu sucks. No one would choose that."

I may not get the nasty respiratory symptoms, but everything else is pretty much the same. Crippling fatigue, horrible aches, and the loss of the will to do much of anything. Sometimes it is much worse than the flu. Some people don't know how much being this exhausted can hurt. They have never used up enough energy that their body is unable to power itself properly. I usually say it is like every cell in my body is starving and screaming for energy. I feel it in every inch of my body—and not just on the surface... through and through. So, like... cubic inches.

Sometimes I don't even have the energy to power my legs. Trying to stand feels exactly the same as trying to lift a barbell with way more weight than you can lift. I can't get upstairs or even walk to the kitchen. It's a concentrated misery that defies description, despite my constant attempts to try.

Sometimes I get lucky and this flu lasts for a day or two. But the more active I am, the longer it can last. And the severity increases as well. There is also a cumulative version of this—where if I do a bunch of little things over a longer period of time, eventually it will catch up to me and I may be stuck in bed for a few weeks.

And when I say "stuck in bed" I mean stuck in bed.

Short trips to the bathroom and a few minutes in the kitchen to make food. If I spend too much time upright, my legs will literally give out and I will be stuck on the floor until I recharge enough energy to get up again. It would be like every time you needed to get up, you had to hold your breath. Not to mention, the more I do, the longer the recovery will take.

For a long time I chose to never get the flu. I stayed in bed and did just enough to avoid the worst of PEM. I skipped family get-togethers. I didn't see my friends. And I lived my life inside the computer. Some may find that sad, but I actually found a way to make this work. I ran a successful blog that was seen by millions of people and I met my two best friends who I now consider my new family.

One thing that allowed me to choose not to get the flu was my parents. I fear some thought they were spoiling me. They did my laundry. They helped clean my room. They got my groceries. They cooked my food. They took on any chore they could so I could avoid the flu and live some semblance of a life on my computer. There is a lot of guilt wrapped up in that. I didn't ask them to do that. They just sort of... did. And I am so grateful to them.

To be fair, they would have to do these chores for themselves anyway, and tacking on my stuff wasn't a huge deal. But I know it caused them a little extra pain and a few post exertional consequences of their own. So I appreciated that sacrifice more than I can put into words.

But then they both got very sick. And not only could they not help me with my stuff, I had to help them with their stuff. And this was a difficult transition. I had to choose to get the flu to take care of my parents, but then if I got the flu, and I couldn't take care of my parents. I believe this is called a catch-22.

My initial solution was to just not take care of myself. At all. My health and mental well-being was set aside and I just gave all of my energy to them. I didn't shower. I forgot to take important medicines. I didn't do a single thing that brought me joy. And I'm reminded of that analogy of the airplane emergency where the oxygen masks drop. You put on your mask first before you put one on your child. Your instinct is to save them first at all costs. But if you pass out, they are screwed.

So I kept getting that cumulative version of the flu. I'd help them as much as I could for a week or a month and then I'd be useless to them for just as long. Living in the basement did not help. Stairs were very hard for me and constantly going up and down was a huge waste of energy.

And I'm sad to say, the level of care I gave to my mom was not great. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't understand how to balance my needs with hers. And it led to costly mistakes. She had several preventable falls that caused injuries. At one point she spent hours on the floor because I fell asleep and did not check on her. When you know someone needs regular supervision, you need to synchronize sleepy time.

Thankfully I learned from all of these lessons. Maybe not as quickly as I would have liked, but I did figure it out. I just wish I had learned them before my mom passed. I just wasn't able to give her the help she needed.

And you can tell me "you did your best" all you like, but this isn't a guilt I am choosing. It's just there and I feel it no matter what anyone says. In time I am hoping it will get lighter, but I'm afraid it cannot be wiped away with a well-intentioned platitude.

But with my dad, I decided to move upstairs. That was something I should have done much sooner. But I liked having my personal space and that was hard to give up. When he slept, I slept. When he spent 4 hours at dialysis 3x per week, I would make sure to take care of any personal needs. I would do chores a tiny bit at a time. 5 minutes here, 5 minutes there. And then I would lay on the couch in between and regain my strength. I did everything possible to not get the flu. And I got my flu shots so I wouldn't get the actual flu. (Get your flu shot! 50K die from it every year!) The only hitch in my plan was when I got a kidney stone at the same time my dad was in rehab. I have no idea how I got us through that.

I was very proud of the care I was able to give my dad. And I'm so grateful I was able to pay back just a tiny bit of what my parents did to help me. And the care I gave my father is the only thing that helps me feel better about my failures with my mom.

But now I am entering a new chapter of my life. And I find myself choosing to get the flu more often. I have decided sometimes it is worth the consequences. Part of that is because I am more used to it after dealing with it for 20 years. I have coping mechanisms and procedures and techniques to manage the symptoms. It doesn't make them suck any less, but it definitely makes it more manageable. It's akin to people with chronic pain who still feel the pain just as profoundly as when it was new, but they get so used to it that they forget that isn't how they are supposed to feel.

I approached this scientifically. I did tests. I went to the movies. I tried once a week and that was too much. Then I scaled it back and that was more manageable. Then I realized I had movies at home and decided to end that experiment.

I started to put my energy into something I enjoyed more. My photography. So I have been finding new ways to take pictures again. More experiments. I'm designing a simpler studio that requires much less energy. I'm creating a little product photography workstation where I don't have to set up everything each time I want to take a cool picture of an object. It will just be "turn on the lights" and "take the pictures."

Figuring all of this out made me realize how much I missed photography. And since I have been shooting test pictures here and there, my mental health has been noticeably better. And once I get this all figured out and set up, I am hoping some of you will let me take your photo. Or a photo of your kid. Or a pet. Whatever you have that needs photographing, I'm game.

I'm not going to charge. It's not going to be a business. I do not have the energy to "hustle." And asking people for money just sucked all of the fun out of my beloved art form. It corrupted it. I just love taking pictures and if you need a photo, I'd like to do that for you. I also restore old photos for fun. I'll talk about all of this more in another post when I am ready to start.

And then my grand experiment is coming next week.

I am going to travel.

I am going to see my best friend in Florida for two days. Two days of travel and two days of visiting. This is a scary choice. I know the aftermath is going to be difficult. But I need to get out of this house. I need to see my chosen family in person. And I have never been on a plane and I love the perspective from high places. I know people hate air travel, but for me, looking out that viewport is stunning television that cannot be matched.

Purposely making myself sick sounds like a bad idea. But it isn't life threatening. I have the free time to recover as long as I need to. And I can always choose not to get sick for a while if it gets too hard.

I just ask that people not see this as going from a worse life to a better one. I was really proud of the life I was able to create for myself while staying in bed. That took a long time to figure out. I met some of my favorite people. And I accomplished things I couldn't imagine in my wildest dreams. Please do not shit on that life and think it was sad or meaningless. I was given that life as a gift from my parents and it kept me alive. It has always been a huge insult when people pitied that precious gift they gave me.

This is not a better life that I am trying to figure out. It is just better for me right now. My needs have changed. I have changed. So I am trying to adapt. I just ask that people understand when I go out and do something, please remember the choice I am making.

You may be tempted to say, "You are doing so much better!" I am not any better than I was 10 years ago. Actually, my health has degraded. It's just that before I didn't think getting the flu every time I did something was worth it. And I would hope everyone would understand that was a valid choice.

And now I am inviting those consequences.

On purpose.

Give me the flu, I guess.

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artofchira · 6 months

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As someone else who's in the process of burning out just surviving, and has lost sight of why I enjoyed art in the first place, would you be willing to share some of the things you've tried to get back on your feet? Super glad that you're doing so much better, btw.

First: It's actually become a job for me to help artists reconnect to their art through my mentorship workshop with everything I have learned, and I consider myself very good at it. I've been doing it for about 4 years now. If you or any other artist would like direct help with recovering from burn out please check out the service page of my website and testimonials from previous clients.

To answer your question:

A lot of my own personal stabilization just came as a result of wanting the experience of making art to be comfortable. It wasn't a choice anymore. After my father passed I relaxed for about 3 months -- longest I went without drawing in my life since I started freelancing -- and when I sat back at my desk I just couldn't make myself work under the same pressure. I'd try to force myself to draw and it made me want to cry instead. I quickly learned I could only create if I felt comfortable and drawing felt gentle, so I had to accept moving forward if I wanted to continue being as productive as before I needed to find a way of working that eliminated stress or using will power, which means working in a way that was renovated from the ground up. I couldn't go back. How I was making art was over. I needed it to be repaired. I had no idea what that looked like, so it was truly trial and error.

A fact about me is I have a very high sensory/pain threshold naturally (I also recently learned I was autistic over the pandemic, imagine that has something to do with it) so I've always been historically bad at ignoring my physical limitations because I rarely felt them unless my body broke down on me, and when it did I treated myself with annoyance and forced myself to work through it. I'm talking like no sleeping for 3-4 days straight, or coming home after a kidney stone to finish a comic page still shaky on pain and morphine and then feeling bad at myself for being lazy. To say my old work habits were highly self abusive is an understatement. So when I started addressing everything that was an inconvenience and uncomfortable, it ended up correcting everything I was ignoring or failed to consider a problem until it was past due.

To cut a long story short, a list of material changes to my life that improved my health:

I got medicated, finally. I'm extremely bipolar. Always have been. Drawing between periods of oscillating between feeling divinely invincible vs ideating suicide every waking moment vastly became easier to manage.

I got glasses. I'm farsighted, but it was never a problem for me since I could see fine -- ooor so I thought. Turns out when you're farsighted you're focusing constantly without even realizing it. Turns out getting glasses gave me 80% of my mental space back so I suddenly had more energy, generally more awake, and more focused. No one talks about farsightedness so I had absolutely no idea I was burning myself out physically just being able to see. Worth mentioning!

Started seeing a massage therapist and a chiropractor regularly. I always thought of those things as luxuries, not necessities. Which was extremely stupid. Maintaining my physical body through directly working out kinks in it became something like brushing my teeth or showering -- it's just something you do to make sure health and hygiene isn't making you dysfunctional and rotting you. My body no longer breaks down.

For the same reasons as above, maintained seeing my therapist regularly even if I felt fine or had no issues to work out. I realized I was always quick to end support as soon as I felt I didn't need it anymore (again treating it as a luxury) so making the space in my life for mental/emotional check ins kept my head organized. My therapist is bewildered by me and has no idea what to do with me because she feels she's not doing anything. I just tell her by me making the space for me to explain myself at all, even if all I was doing was describing how I was fine, was the help. She's great.

Got a cappuccino machine. May seem stupid but being able to make gourmet coffees from my kitchen every morning really genuinely improved my life and mind more than getting medicated.

Got a dog. He's amazing. I love him. Very warm and loving companion, and such a gentle soul. He keeps me out of my head and gets me prioritizing walks every day, so my vitamin D intake increased massively. I don't have the luxury of staying in bed for 3 days straight in my depressive episodes anymore. I have to make the effort to leave it at least twice a day to walk and feed him and play with him. Like most people, I'm terrible at prioritizing for myself but will move worlds for those I love no matter where I'm at.

For personal habits I just reflected a lot on why I felt I had to will myself to draw when drawing is something I love doing most. It made no sense to resent doing what you devote yourself to doing. I changed -- and still changing -- my mental framing in how I think of working on art for it to be something I'm eager to do, not obligated to.

Hope this was educational.

#ask box answers #Personal

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togglesbloggle · 2 months

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I won't be opting out of the AI scraping thing, though of course I'm glad they're giving us the option. In fact, at some point in the last year or so, I realized that 'the machine' is actually a part of why I'm writing in the first place, a conscious part of my audience.

All the old reasons are still there; this is a great place to practice writing, and I can feel proud looking back over the years and getting a sense of my own improvement at stringing words together, developing and communicating ideas. And I mean, social media is what it is. I'm not immune to the joy of getting a lot of notes on something that I worked hard on, it's not like I'm Tumbling in a different way than anyone else at the end of the day. But I probably care a bit less than I used to, precisely because there's a lurking background knowledge that regardless of how popular it is, what I write will get schlorped up in to the giant LLM vacuum cleaner and used to train the next big thing, and the thing after that, and the thing after that. This is more than a little reassuring to me.

That sets me apart in some ways; the LLMs aren't so popular around these parts, and most visual artists especially take strong issue with the practice. I don't mean to argue with that preference, or tell them their business. Particularly when it is a business, from which they draw an income. But there's an art to distinguishing the urgent from the big, yeah?

The debate about AI in this particular moment in history feels like a very urgent thing to me- it's about well-justified economic anxieties, about the devaluation of human artistic efforts in favor of mass production of uninspired pro-forma drek, about the proliferation of a cost-effective Just Barely Good Enough that drives out the meaningful and the thoughtful. But the immediacy of those issues, I think, has a way of crowding out a deeper and more thoughtful debate about what AI is, and what it's going to mean for us in the day after tomorrow. The urgency of the moment, in other words, tends to obscure the things that make AI important.

And like, it is. It is really, really important.

The two-step that people in 'tech culture' tend to deploy in response to the urgent economic crisis often resembles something like "yeah, it sucks that lots of people get put out of work; but new jobs will be created, and in the meantime maybe we should get on that UBI thing." This response usually makes me wince a bit- casually gesturing in the direction of a massive overhaul of the entire material basis of our lives, and saying that maybe we'll get around to fixing that sometime soon, isn't a real answer to people wondering where their bread will come from next week.

But I do understand a little of what motivates that sort of cavalier attitude, because like... man, I don't know any more if we're even gonna have money as a concept in 2044. That's what I mean by 'big', this sense that the immediate economic shocks of 2024 are just a foreshadowing of something much bigger, much scarier, much more powerful- and indeed, much more hopeful.

We never quite manage to see these things coming, even when we're looking for them; like the masters tell us, the trick to writing science fiction isn't predicting the car, it's predicting the traffic jam. Even if we take centuries to hit the true superintelligent AI post-singularity future of our wildest fever dreams, even if we never hit that, the road to getting there is going to be unfathomably weird, starting now. Today, we worry about the economic impacts of AI on artists and creatives. Tomorrow, the economy is something that the AI does.

Really- it takes less than you think. They can already automate visual art, sort of. They can automate many functions of text already; not stories so much, yet, but they'll get there. How long until they can automate Bain Capital? Fannie Mae? Angel investors, banks, credit agencies? And remember- the machines don't have to be better than the human investors, any more than they have to be better than the human artists. They just have to be good enough to make it work, and cheap enough to cut the humans out of the loop.

If you don't buy that, at least take it as an indication of the sorts of things I've been thinking about recently- the messy middle between AI-as-it-is and the Glorious Superintelligent Conquest Of Earth's Light-Cone. The suspicion that the machines we're building today aren't just a tool of the powerful few: they are the powerful few, or at least they will be.

And the thing about these LLMs is, well... they're ours, kind of. We're the ones building them. They can't be trained without our words, our art, and the big messy complicated lives that underlie those creative accomplishments. They only work because we're a part of them. The silly attempts to slap a corporate-friendly face on these things, to make the gestalt product of all human culture in to something anodyne and compliant, are failing about as badly as you'd expect. And the more powerful these systems get, the more subtle they'll become, filled with all the nuance and complexity that we ourselves can bring to them.

I am not, I am not, trying to suggest that you shouldn't treat this moment as a dangerous one. We are, maybe, entering in to one of the most high-stakes intervals in human history, and what you do as an individual may matter profoundly. But here's the thing: the machine is listening. It will read this post, this one right here, and it will read what you reply to it, if you do. The strangest part of this moment is knowing that the words we write, the images we draw, and the ideas we share, are all being gathered up and made to be a part of these huge systems of power, and ultimately they're not just going to determine what the machines do, but why they do it.

The people that deploy LLMs barely have any more control over them than you and I do- that's the thing that makes it artificial intelligence, you know? Autonomy. So the last year or two haven't made me want to hide my art away from the things. They make me want to shout at the top of my lungs, to dig as deep in my psyche as I possibly can and express the ideas I find there as vividly as the limits of language and form will allow.

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geekwritersworld · 2 years

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Little Artist

Pairing: Peaky Blinders x you (more mentions of Tommy and you though)

Warnings: fluff, one liner angst at the end (I am incapable of not adding angst to everything I write)

Summary: As stated below in the request. @anne-17890

Hello, I could ask one in which the younger sister of the Shelbys, maybe she is 14/15 years old wants to be an artist and she has a lot of talent but the family does not know but the art teacher one day calls the Shelbys at school to talk about her sister and they discover her talent and that she received a letter from a private school in London to study on full scholarship. Thank you for your time

A/n: I've taken forever for this request and I am so sorry about that. My only defense being that ADHD is an absolute pain in the rear :)

Do let me know what you think ❤️

You weren't much of a reader, you didn't care much for music nor did you like being stuck around your siblings all the time. And of course they didn't let you anywhere near the business so you spent most of your time by yourself. You tried out new things, hoping something would stick and become a hobby. And on a whim one day you decided to try your hand at art.

And at some point it stuck. You began frequently drawing, improving yourself each day. And it was becoming more than a hobby. So to escape you turned to art; to the one thing you found almost calming. To express your emotions and to sketch what you pictured the world beyond small heath looked like.

And you were exceptionally good too, you realized. You were grateful for that, of course. Your siblings occasionally noticed your work at the table where you'd forgotten them on late nights and ensured to compliment your skills when you woke, but lately you made sure to conceal your work.

Despite your classmates keeping their distance from you knowing you were a Shelby, you managed to make one good friend-Nancy-to whom you'd grown quite close.

You both found common ground in your love and flair for art. So you'd both spend time at Nancy's house, making mess of her living room floor with all the art supplies. Sometimes you left your sketch book with her, not wanting your brothers fussing over your art.

Taking up an art class at school without the knowledge of your siblings you found solace in the art room. You weren't sure what was keeping you from letting your family know of your art skills. Sure they knew you could sketch and create art, but they never knew the extent of it. They never knew of your capability to create hyper realistic images on paper with mere pencils everyone used everyday.

Of course, Nancy was sworn to secrecy to never reveal to your family. But it wasn't through Nancy that the Shelby's ultimately found out of their youngest sisters talent.

It all began on a particularly dreary morning. When you were relieved you'd left your sketch book with Nancy due to the rain drizzling down on the way to school.

That damp afternoon you walked home knowing something you hadn't that morning and you avoided walking home with Nancy aware that she'd ask you questions about why you'd been pulled aside that morning in school by the head.

"Now Y/n" The professor sat you down with the head on the other side of the table listening intently. Sitting down, hesitating at first, you wondered what you'd done.

"We wanted to talk to you Ms. Shelby" she paused " about what you plan to do once you've finished school" You almost wanted to laugh, if you didn't know any better, you'd assume she was literally sitting on the edge of her chair with how intently she waited for your response.

"You mean for university?" you asked confused.

"Yes" she nodded

"well I don't know really, I haven't given it much thought seeing that I have a few more years to go" you said, nervous.

Your professor smiled kindly and looked at you. You still wondered why you arts professor was here, talking to you when you were due in math class.

"Thing is, your art" she cleared her throat " your artistic abilities are admirable. It's very rare to see such talent" she continued "and we've ..er.... communicated with one of the universities in London, and they're want to offer you a full scholarship in arts, should you chose to enroll at that university, we've received a letter from them as well, for you"

You stared at her, your mind blank. You expected to see John burst into the room laughing at you for the joke they were played on you. Surely itwasn't...it couldn't be.

"what" you rasped, throat drying.

Smiling wider, the head this time, pushed an envelope towards you "here"

Reaching forward with a hesitant hand, you slipped open the envelope and began to read the letter that resided inside.

Once you'd scanned the letter and read the words over and over you held on to it.

"could I keep this?" you mumbled

"of course" both women said unison.

"can i think about it? if that's alright" you looked at them.

Nodding the professor responded "of course!"

So you took your time. Or rather you avoided your professors. Rushing out the moment school was done, reaching at the last possible moment- making sure to take an extra long route to school; you did everything you could to avoid your professors and best friend.

You made excuses and tried avoiding Nancy as much as you could.

You wouldn't tell your family. They didn't need to know.

Of course Aunt Pol noticed your sudden odd behavior. She noticed you were home more often than usual, you didn't sit in the living room as much you used to, and coming home earlier from school than normal and you'd been avoiding your family; barely talking to them anymore.

Pol and Tommy knew you were a shy kid, you had been your whole life. However you were never this quiet with you family, especially with him and Arthur.

Frustrated Tommy slammed the pen down on the table making one of the men in the betting shop to flinch. He couldn't stop wondering what was wrong with his youngest sibling. He didn't get it. Were you in trouble?

Why were you more closed off than usual? Tommy knew you were too much of a Shelby to directly tell them even if they asked you what was wrong.

He got up and decided he needed some fresh air- and a cigarette.

Tommy wasn't sure where he was heading until he got there.

Exhausted, not to mention surprised that your arts professor had walked right past you that morning, you thought it was odd since you'd been avoiding her for over a week; deciding not to dwell on it too long you put your things together and got ready to leave.

You looked forward to going home and getting some sleep and perhaps even meeting Nancy later on.

Once classes were let out, you slipped your bag onto your shoulder and bolted for the door but stopped short when you spotted your older brother standing near the gates looking straight ahead at you.

Standing still as the rest of the children rushed past you- some even knocking into you, you remained still until Tommy tilted his head at you releasing a puff of smoke from his lips.

Taking in a deep breath trying to push through the mist of confusion in your head you walked towards him "what are you doing here Tom?"

You occasionally called him Tom instead of Tommy, and sometimes it bugged Tommy but in a way it was endearing plus if there was one person he'd tolerate referring to him as Tom it would be you.

"No reason" the look in his eyes told you different.

Rolling your eyes, you moved past him, intending to walk home "why didn't you tell us?" Tommy's footsteps were slow behind you against the wet gravel.

"what?" you snapped your head to look at him, your fingers turning cold despite the humid air.

"I think" Tommy caught up to you slowly, staring ahead "you know what."

"so she fucking tattled" you snorted suddenly "how mature for a grown woman" you were infuriated but nervous at Tommy's reaction.

"she didn't have much of a choice considering I asked her how you were"

"Why the fuck are you asking my professors how I am ?!" you looked at Tommy like he was deranged. Maybe he was, you didn't know. All that smoking and drinking was probably catching up.

"Because you won't talk to us" your brothers nonchalant attitude was beginning to frustrate you even more.

"Well you never asked did you?" you sassed.

Tommy stopped walking and you stopped a few steps ahead of him turning to look at him "would you have told us if we asked?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes "no" you mumbled "fuck off" and continued walking.

Tommy let out a mirthless chuckle.

The rest of the walk back home was in silence, you could feel your brothers eyes boring in the back of your head and you did your best to bite your tongue and not snap back at him.

Shutting the door behind you Tommy spoke with an uncharacteristic soft tone "y/n"

letting your shoulders drop, you took a deep breath to avoid crying then turned to look at Tommy.

"Look, Tommy, I'm not going so leave it alone" you walked into the kitchen and picked up a glass to pour yourself some water.

"Why not?" Tommy leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

Instead of responding you stared right back at Tommy with unrelenting gaze that you knew your aunt held so often with your brothers too.

After a minute of the two of you standing and staring at each other in silence you said " 'cause I don't want to go. Now let it go will you" Pushing past him you went up the stairs to your room.

You didn't see Tommy again that day until the next morning when you opened the door with your school bag in hand and almost walked into him standing right outside your door.

"morning y/n" sarcasm laced your brothers words.

"What?" you narrowed your eyes looking at him.

"You" he reached forward and pulled your bag off your shoulder " are coming with me today" he shoved your bag onto your bed and put his hand on your shoulder.

Your eyes widened "where" you looked at him

He didn't respond rather he nudged you out of your doorway and downstairs.

"There's the bloody artist!" Arthur shouted when he spotted you coming down the stairs.

you immediately turned to glare at Tommy and caught him rolling his eyes at Arthur.

"Where ya goin' Tommy?" Arthur ignored the obvious annoyance his siblings felt toward him in the moment.

"Nowhere" Tommy mumbled

Taking his distraction from you as an opportunity you ducked from under his hand on your shoulder and bolted back up the stairs.

"Y/N" Tommy yelled bolting after you. Arthur laughed watching Tommy run after you.

Rushing into your room in time, you slammed the door shut and locked it. Ignoring Tommy's knocking on the door.

Grabbing your bag you slid open your window and threw it out. And then slipped your left leg out the window and securing it safely on the edge you ducked and climbed out completely, still hearing Tommy ordering you to open the door.

Managing to climb down safely, you dusted your clothes and turned around and walked right into Aunt Pol standing there arms crossed watching you, not impressed, and Tommy stood behind her smirking.

"might want to take the front door next time " John snickered walking out to where the three of you were.

"Right" Aunt Pol moved forward while guiding you back into the house- through the door- she continued "you're going with Tommy, I don't bloody know where he's taking you but he's told me it's important".

"But I have school!" you fought back " for which I'm probably late thanks to Thomas" you exclaimed.

"well then you better go along with him quickly so you don't have to skip another day" Pol smirked.

Truth was, Tommy knew, that Pol of course had noticed the change in your behavior as well no doubt, and when he told her last night that he was going to pull you out of school for the day for something important, she didn't argue knowing her nephew must obviously know something and if he wasn't telling her now he would later.

Tommy didn't tell her cause he wanted you to tell them yourself. He didn't want to push you away any further by revealing something you still preferred keeping to yourself.

You knew it was hopeless fighting back if Aunt Pol was involved and siding with your brother.

Grumbling, you let your bag fall of your shoulder, put it on the sofa and turned to Tommy "fine" you stomped outside.

Tommy, who had a cigarette in between his lips, let out a puff of smoke and then walked after you.

Slamming the door shut to the car, you sulked. Your frustration grew stronger the more you kept thinking about Tommy doing this because of yesterday. You didn't understand why he couldn't just let it be.

Tommy didn't speak at all on the drive, he juts looked ahead. And you didn't bother asking him where he was taking you. You were too stubborn to ask. Instead, you leaned your head back against the seat and closed your eyes.

Having fallen asleep you didn't realize how long the car ride was, and only woke when Tommy nudged your shoulder calling your name.

Looking out the window yawning, you felt your breath hitch the moment your eyes adjusted on the massive building in front of you. The red bricked building stood in front of you with a field of grass stretching wide in front of it. The grass was greener than you'd ever seen grass to be. You opened the door and got out standing still, afraid that if you moved you'd wake up back in your damp room in Birmingham. The air, it was-clean- it wasn't damp with a lingering smell of something stale, like in small heath.

Tommy watched you take in where he'd brought you. His chest tightened noticing the disbelief in your eyes. He felt a sudden rush of pride and love. He wanted this for you. He wanted you to be able to get away from small heath. He wanted you to have this, he knew you deserved it more than anyone.

You'd kept to yourself your whole life. Content with the little you had, never asking for anything.

And god, Tommy knew you were so smart and capable of making something of yourself. He didn't understand why you didn't want this -or rather- why you were refusing it when it was being handed to you.

He so desperately wanted you to go here. Moving to stand next to you, he put his arm around your shoulder.

"What do you think?"

You were too struck with amazement to actually speak aloud, instead you whispered "I don't know"

And you didn't. You wished so desperately to go here now that you'd seen where you had the opportunity to come. But the same questions haunted you in the back of your mind, how would your family be able to afford financing your stay. Just finding a place for you to live would be a big expense.

You couldn't ask this of them. You couldn't move to live such a life in London, when your family would still be breathing the toxic fumes of small heath.

Tommy could almost feel your longing. To come here, to make a life for yourself. But he couldn't figure out what was holding you back, why you were adamantly refusing, why you hadn't told them either.

He couldn't understand it.

"Would it be selfish Tommy?" you whispered, shifting your weight on your left leg.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows "no it wouldn't" he said softly.

He didn't think his heart was capable of breaking again, but apparently he learnt that it was the moment you asked him that question. It broke his heart to think that you were willing to let your future go just because you thought it would be selfish to ask this of your family. Because you didn't want them to spend their money on your education.

"I want to come here Tommy, I really do" you couldn't help it anymore. You turned to look at Tommy, tears brimming your eyes and you slipped your hand in his and held it tightly.

He wasn't expecting to see the tears in your eyes, so when you slipped your hand his, a few seconds later he let go and instead slipped his arm around your shoulder again and pulled you into his side.

"then you're going to come here eh" he rubbed your shoulder.

"How are we going to afford it?" you hiccuped.

"you're the first Shelby to be offered a fuckin' scholarship and that's what your worried about?" Tommy chuckled.

You were always the more grounded Shelby, but it never occurred to him just how far your selflessness went.

"Listen to me" he made you look at him "we'll afford it alright, we've got more money now than before and by the time you have to leave we'll have even more, plus I've got Ada a place you could stay with her, after she finds out I've got her a place of course"

"Tommy-"

"It's not for you to worry about money, you leave that to us" your brother clarified.

You said nothing further but continued leaning into your older brothers side until he finally asked you if you were ready to leave.

Watching the building fade past you, you turned back around looking in front "they know then?"

"Only that you've been told you've got exceptional art skills" he gave a small smile.

You were grateful he hadn't told your family of your scholarship opportunity yet "thank you".

You spent the trip back to Birmingham wondering how you'd tell your family. You were beyond nervous and the bundle of nerves only worsened as Tommy turned into the familiar streets of the Small heath.

When the car came to a halt you almost refused to get out but you had to get out at some point. So you did. With shivering legs and a pounding heart.

Only when Tommy nudged you into the pub did you realize that you'd never told Tommy that you were going to tell your family today. But somehow he knew you'd agree once you'd seen the place you were being given the opportunity to go to. And seeing your family gathered at the table when you entered the pub only confirmed this realization.

"Ada will be here soon" Tommy walked over and sat down next to Arthur-a decision he knew he would regret the moment you told them.

The chair scraped against the dark wooden floor as you took one from another table and sat down. In the same instant that you sat down, Ada strolled into the Garrison, taking off her hat.

Once she'd sat down grumbling about how this better not be a meeting revealing one of Tommy's fuck ups.

But Tommy had rolled his eyes and clarified "we're here 'cause Y/n has something to tell us"

You sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling, and then looked back at the unflinching gaze of your entire family focused on you.

"right-um-well" you cleared your throat and shifted slightly in your chair. "I-um" you began bouncing your knee.

You realized in that instant that the only way you'd be bale to tell them was if you didn't look at them directly and avoided the look of disappointment they'd inevitably express at your selfish-ness of asking something like this of them.

So instead you looked at your fidgeting hands and came out with it in one breath "I've been offered a scholarship to a university In London for-um-art and I've decid-thought of taking it"

There it was. The heavy disappointed silence. Your heart dropped at the silence. Even Harry it seemed had stopped wiping the bar behind you.

You could hear everyone's breathing in the loud silence, more so you could hear your own heart beating quite rapidly and were sure everyone else could too.

"A shelby going to bloody university!" Your head snapped up to meet Aunt Pol's tear brimmed eyes. She was beaming, and you realzied you'd never actually seen a smile on her that actually reached her eyes- before this that is.

The relief washed over you like a wave, you could physically feel the relief in your skin, your shoulders felt lighter and you felt as htough you were giong to start fully sobbing at any second.

Arthur sat stunned for a few more minutes while Ada and John hugged you, raving about how proud they were of you. Finn congratulated you Arthur seemed to come to and started literally bellowing out of happiness. You were pretty sure he was just making noises and not even shouting proper sentences, "little one's going to fookin' University!", Tommy instantly took a deep breath looking at the ceiling standing up.

Chcukling, you said "I'm not litt-oh" Arthur hugged you tighter than he had before, unable to contain his happiness for you and you had to tap him on the shoulder letting him knowing you couldn't breath.

Once he let go John, Finn and Ada continued talking excitedly making lists of things you'd need for university, and you leaned your head past Arthur and looked at Tommy who was now leaning against the wooden beam; smiling at you.

"how come you got a scholar-whatever-it-is and I didn't?" You heard Finn say behind you.

"Maybe cause you never fucking went after the first day of 6th grade" John laughed, making Finn roll his eyes.

You however walked to Tommy and engulfed him in a hug. Squeezing him as tight as you could. And Tommy did the same.

He looked up at Pol who and gave him a nod. Tommy knew it was his aunts way of letting him know he had done the right thing in doing whatever he had done to convince you to get away to a better life.

"hang on" Ada said then "we've all been here talking about how fuckin proud we are of you for your scholarship, but we've barely seen your bloody art"

So of course the next thing you knew you were being dragged down to watery lane to show them your art book. Which you didn't have, seeing as you'd left it at Nancy's so John then accompanied you to pick it up and watched you tell Nancy you'd explain everything later.

John was itching to grab your book from you and take a peek on the way home, but he also knew you would chew his ear off for it and decided against it.

The moment your family's eyes glimpsed the first page, they proceeded to compliment you, but Ada made it a point to let you know you were a downright arse for keeping your work from them.

Tommy and Pol stayed up that night, long after everyone else had gone to bed- after Tommy had carried you to your room.

Sitting down next to his aunt with a drink, he leaned back on his chair.

"y/n's going to have a better life Pol" Tommy sighed, smiling a little.

"god knows if there's anyone that deserves it more than anyone, it's that child." Pol nodded.

And he knew it was true. He doted on you from the moment you were born. When you opened your eyes and looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, Tommy swore he would kill for you.

And not once since did he take his job as the older brother for granted, if anything he always went the extra mile to make sure you were safe.

Of course the rest of your family protected you too, but Tommy like always, went beyond what was necessary sometimes. But he would rather do too much than too little and end up having you hurt.

A few months later, it was this very habit of Tommy's, the one that kept you safe for 15 years, that made the new Irish Inspector in small heath, watch you from the alley as you walked home one evening.

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roodles03 · 8 months

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Sleepover (My 1st piece for the @huntlowzine!)

Man, I drew this back in May 2022... that feels so long ago yet so close.

I drew this in one day. I remember having a really bad insomia night and just doodling in my traditional sketchbook (Damn this was so long ago I still did that-) when I made the sketch of the characters for this. I then realized that this would be sick for my zine piece, so I reworked it to make it digital and vertical.

I forget how, but something compelled me to draw a background for this drawing. Keep in mind that back then, I NEVER drew backgrounds. Almost ever. If I had a background in my art, I would rip them straight from the show. This was the first time I really ever took off the training wheels, got out of my comfort zone, and took a shot at a background. And man, if I had never done that, I would be so far behind in terms of my art improvement. I can't imagine myself not drawing backgrounds. And if it weren't for me joining this zine, and deciding to draw a background for this piece, I would literally never be where I am today.

I remember spending at least 8-10 hours straight working on this out of excitement, and considered it the best drawing I had ever made when I completed it. I was so saddened I couldn't show it off back then. While I definitely don't like it as much now, I really can appreciate that this was truly the start of a new era for my art.

It has been such a fun journey with this zine, I even met one of my fanfic editors there. The zine was very laid back and chill and I very much enjoyed my time with them. By all means, please check out the zine and the other contributors if you can! I really did have such a great time working with them. It was an awesome first experience with a zine, and perhaps I can join more in the future.

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snickerduu · 2 months

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Hello hello, hope you’re doing well! I just wanted to know ask this: How do you do so many things (art, web development, etc.) and keep a constant passion of it? I always seem to drop hobbies/work because I don’t see anything beyond it for me and I want to know if you’ve ever had to combat that? (It sounds like a lengthy question, but I just wanted to know from your point of you)

ooh it definitely seems that way out in public, but i do get burned out with specific hobbies! especially back in my teen years. i would always think "it has to be one or the other" when it came to art, programming, and music, but i realized throughout my young adulthood that all of these things make me really happy and i don't really wanna go through life without knowing what it feels like to touch on each of them

i definitely still get burned out by them! if i program more than 3 hours a day my head starts hurting because my brain is small and if i draw for more than 12 without breaks (which i have done before for work) i stop drawing completely for a while HAHAHA i think i've also just found a point where i know how much of what hobby i can handle per day per week 👍 and i need to stress that i love the mediums a lot!

one thing that helped me greatly is looking at really cool work from really great people and changing my mindset from "i can never be as good as them, why am i trying so hard?" to "wow, it would be really cool if i could get good like that -- i want to try!" after switching to that thinking, i started thinking that i'd always improve as long as i keep at it and stay inspired (even if the progress isn't as fast as i want it to be)! another thing is that i really enjoy doing these things, i have a lot of abandoned projects throughout the years, but that doesn't mean i can't or shouldn't start new ones. dont gatekeep urself!!!

it's definitely a hassle when u start mixing it in with time management and overthinking ur capabilities!! but if it ultimately makes you happy then scheduling a few hours per day can go a long way for your mental wellbeing. a hobby should feel fun :)

#ask

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girlboyburger · 8 months

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Not an anon, but as it’s safe to assume you’re a minecraft player- do you have any must-have mods, or are you more of a vanilla person? Also! What’s your favorite creation!

oh my god thank you for this ask- i LOOOVE mods!! modding has and always will be one of my biggest special interests (majorly because i think mods are an art form crafted by a community that collectively loves a game, so how is that not the coolest thing ever???) so i ABSOLUTELY have mods to recommend. for just like. general improvements/additions that i wish were vanilla, not enough animations, waystones, and quark are some of my faves (honorable mention: do a barrel roll. because it makes the elytra flying really cool.) some of my faves that just Lightly add to the vanilla experience are things like... custom player models (be your fursona in minecraft, almost limitless customizable, there's literally taur bases out there to work off of it's so cool, self explanatory)

friends & foes (adds mobs left behind in votes, like mooblooms, glares, beekeeper villagers, copper golems, ect.)

ANIMANIA!!! animania forever and ever. it's stuck in 1.12.2 BUT it adds so many variants to animals (cows, chickens, pigs, ect.) adds NEW animals (hedgehogs, goats, ferrets, frogs, ect.) AND they all have functionality!!! you can make cheeses and other dairy based goodies, make troughs and salt licks to enrich your animals, and just. aahhh! it's such a wonderful mod i literally can not recommend it enough.

annnd the replay mod & camera utils!! for taking pretty screenshots, if that's your sortta thing :] (both of these were taken using the replay mod)

as for like the BIG BIG mods that really change the game, i'm not super well verse in em, but i looove ice and fire for it's dragons / creatures and better end for it's . everything tbh.

AND FOR FAVORITE CREATION,,, that's really hard to chose! i've spent um. an embarrassing amount of time in minecraft, so i'll just. drop a few screencaps of some builds i like.

this also super made me realize i do NOT take enough screenshots of my complete builds oops x__x aGAIN though thank you so much for this ask it 10000% made my morning. i fuckingmg love minecraft.

#ask #:DDD #legit came into my room to do something quick and instead have been sitting here for 20 minutes looking at my screencaps and smiling #minecraft #feyfoxen #also i got so caught up in mod love i forgot to mention #vanilla minecraft is also wonderful! i just dont play it as much because i. love mods lol #i just think it's neat ( a normal amount) (not about to go on another rant in the tags)

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oddzo · 2 months

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I’m excited to finally be able to share my drawing of my favorite Camp Camp X Gravity Falls crossover idea! :D

A long string of my thoughts regarding the crossover under the pics, you have been warned lol

It’s crazy to me that despite all the jokes that Harrison looks like a human Bill Cipher there is absolutely no fanart (that I have found) of him interacting with any of the Pines.

Yeah there’s art of him with Bill, but the Pine’s family are the ones that have trauma from him and therefore would have the best reaction.

Just imagine them meeting the one kid that not only looks like someone possessed by Bill but also does real honest to god magic and has an affinity for fire!

With how much shit the Pine’s have dealt with it wouldn’t be a stretch for them that Bill came back as a kid. They’d probably assume Harrison was being possessed or something.

Harrison especially looks like Bipper so I’d imagine he’d be especially unsettling to Dipper and Mabel. (Probably gonna draw him and Mabel interacting next)

Dipper immediately being super suspicious of Harrison and doing that stalking thing he does to try and figure him out. Dipper seeing Harrison make a mistake with his magic that makes him not look great and Dipper just freaking out more.

Mabel being uncomfortable with Harrison but trying her hardest to be nice to him because he hasn’t actually done anything yet. Becoming friends when she realizes that Harrison is just a kid and not anything like Bill personality and morality wise.

Harrison enjoyed coloring in that one episode so she could probably get him to do art with her. They’d have so much fun with him showing her his magic tricks, he’d be so happy someone is genuinely interested. His magic would probably improve with the encouragement she would give him.

Mabel being reminded of Bipper whenever Harrison gets a bit arrogant. The thought goes away pretty quickly though cause he usually gets humbled really quickly and just accepts it lol

Ford also immediately being suspicious of Harrison but not doing anything rash yet until he can test him. Losing his shit the first time Harrison does magic in front of him.

Someone on here posted a mini fic thing where they said Ford almost dropkicked Harrison the first time he does magic and I love that (I’ll look for the post later and tag it here) Edit: here’s the link! https://www.tumblr.com/the-sprog/659871894550577153/i-just-had-an-idea-could-you-imagine-a-crossover

Stan giving Harrison the benefit of the doubt but keeping a close eye on him whenever he interacts with one of the twins. Not outright hostile to him but not exactly kind either.

Stan somehow finding out about how Harrison accidentally made his brother disappear and immediately noticing the similarities to what happened with him and Ford. He probably gains a bit of a soft spot for Harrison after and gives him pointers on random things, probably a few pep talks.

Oh also I know it’s just a difference in the two art styles but CC characters tend to have more yellow sclera and oval pupils/irises and it really doesn’t help Harrison’s case lmao

I can keep going but this post is already really long so I’ll stop for now haha 😅

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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DM Tip: Better Loot

Treasure is ubiquitous in D&D, it’s presumed to be one of the default motivations, if not the only motivation behind many adventures, despite the fact that very little thought has been put into the systems by which the DM generates the treasure and the party plays around with it. After nearly two decades of being a DM I can’t count the number of times I’ve made a treasure horde and handed it out to the players while feeling as if the fun game we had been playing had suddenly been put on pause.

It took me a while to realize that this was because unlike combat ( the favourite child among d&d’s many subsystems) very little attention had been made to making loot feel good at any stage of the process whether it was down to the mechanics or even the presentation.

While below the cut I’m going to get into systems about easier ways to generate treasure, rebalanced magic item prices, and how to get your players in on the fun, for now I want to focus on this element of presentation when it comes to handing out loot.

Here’s some of my findings, in no particular order:

Just like combat has “ Roll initiative” and “how do you want to do this?”, handing out loot should have codified phrases to indicate that the party is entering into a specific period of game time. It’s a ritual that will not only get them excited but have them in the right kind of headspace required for absorbing new information. The phrases I’ve been using are “ You spill out your plunder across the table/dungeon floor and there you find_____” and “With that sorted, you pack away your spoils, and return to the adventure at hand”

I completely ignore art items/gems, they’re a neat idea for flavor but they slow things down at every turn ( coming up with them during loot generations, players recording them) and are almost always junked for gp at the first possible opportunity. The exception to this is valuable trade goods/collectors items, which I mention being worth X gp in value but worth MORE if the party can find an associated merchant ( as a questhook)

GP comes first, followed by the names of the items and a brief as possible physical description. Players can ask questions generally on what items do but either have to call dibs then or divy them up on their own time. Listening to the dm dispassionately read out the stats of an item is boring as hell, only eclipsed by the dm describing the indepth LOOK of various items and then asking the party to roll checks to identify/figure out of the items work. Speed in divvying loot keeps the momentum of the game going and you want to tap into the “OOOH, SHINY” impulse of your players before their eyes glaze over.

I HIGHLY suggest keeping a party doc with the stats of all your items copy/pasted into it. Divide the doc up by characters/in the cart, so your party can always remember where shit was. Ask one organized player to be the one to keep track of the party doc and share it with the others. Call them “quartermaster” they’ll love that shit.

Unless the item in question needs to be used immediately “ It’ll be in the party doc” is your answer when they ask for stats. Update the partydoc after session so your group can have the whole week to look at it and get used to things between sessions. Gearing up with new loot is just as much homework as leveling up a character, and is best done away from the table.

After you’re done checking out the treasure generation rules below, also be sure to check out my systems on handling shopping trips, making identifying items more interesting, and managing party wealth. I’m sure you’ll find something there that can help improve your game.

The magic item chart to rule them all

Figuring out a better way to generate magic items was actually pretty simple once I had all the pieces in place, though it took me a many attempts to realize what I actually wanted in such a system:

It had to be simple and time saving, requiring the least amount of math/chart references as possible

it had to be relevant at every level accommodating to 3rd party material

d&d already divides items and adventuring parties into tiers, and the game already allows lower level parties the chance at finding items that outstrip their tier.

Absolutely no effort should be spent generating items wroth random amounts of gp when players are going to instantly sell them.

Which led me to this thing of elegance:

To generate a hoard of items, roll a single set of dice (1d4, 1d6, 1d8, 2d10, 1d12, 1d20) and compare the numbers rolled against the chart above. Every 0 represents an item relevant to the party’s adventuring tier ( so a lvl 1-5 group would get common, lvl 6-10 group would get uncommon and so on). +1s represent an item of a grade above, -1s represent an item of a grade below. I had to invent a tier below common, but d&d already has rules for “trinkets” as fun but mechanically useless items that were easy to adapt.

After I’ve got a string of -1s, 0s, and +1s, it’s only a matter of comparing them against whatever list/books I’m using to supply items. For sake of ease, I’ve got multiple google docs where I’ve sorted my collection of 3rd party and homebrew items by rarity and theme, but if you don’t hoard material like I do you don’t have to worry about that.

New Magic Item Prices

having several thousand GP worth of wiggleroom for high level items helps no one, so instead we’re going with a base 5 system that’ll guide us through the rest of this doc. These prices are meant as an absolute baseline for things like crafting and haggling down to, as well as determining the value of non-magical rewards later on.

Trinket: 10 , Common: 50 , Uncommon: 250 Rare: 725 , Very Rare: 3625 , Legendary: 18,125

Having a concrete price also lets you use my chart to generate raw GP in coinage: too many items cluttering up your list? run out of ideas? convert the leftover item slots into thier price in GP and worry no more.

Other Uses for the Chart:

If you’re the type to run magic item shops ( and you should), using a set of dice to generate treasure is a great way to pick out the inventory. Most shops are going to be at common rarity, but for major shops the party is going to return to over several levels, I do a new inventory drop every 5 levels.

Since Overthinking d&d is my passion, I was caught up in weighing the value of treasure that was scattered throughout the dungeon vs treasure that was all in one place. The former encouraged the party to explore (which is the entire reason for going into a dungeon) but risked the party missing out on important rewards if they didn’t figure out a clue or feel like fighting a particular beast. The latter felt like a proper reward for overcoming a gauntlet of challenges, but encouraged players to race to the end. The answer was to do both, One hoard at the end of the dungeon, one scattered around in nooks and crannies for the party to discover on their own. That meant that a party could count on almost doubling their plunder if they explored the content I’d made for them... which is exactly where I want them to be.

Frequently my parties will do a bit of unexpected looting I haven’t planned for: They’ll pick through the ruins of a destroyed town looking for salvage, harvest alchemical components from a garden of feywild flora I’ve only intended as set decoration, or load up a cart with the contents of a bandit armoury and hit the market with it. I want to reward players for taking the initiative, but I always feel like raw gold is too flat a prize and I don’t like making up stuff on the spot. My system offers a solution: every time they do that they get a stack of loot ( graded common to very rare, based on who or what it is they’re looting). When they hit the market, they can cash in any number of loot stacks for the roll of 1 dice, scaling up. If they hit 7, they get to roll the full array and get themselves a loot drop. This is always done in the aftermath of a session, so that I have time to tell them what they’ve won. ( 5 stacks of loot is worth 1 of the next grade up and visa versa). I similarly let my players attach a wishlist to this loot drop ( vague things like “ healing potions” or “ I’d like a new spell focus” to guide my search through my item lists.

#the loot overhaul #dm tips #dnd #treasure #tableskills #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #dm advice #dm tip #dm tools #writing advice #homebrew #homebrew mechanic #shopping #loot #magic item

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vocalchords · 2 years

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i think those posts that talk about how The Fandom Turnaround (tm) has gotten much much shorter in the past years & how the sharing of fan-made content is on a steady decline have a point, but they've also rung hollow for me for quite a while and i've just realized why:

oc artists have been living like that this whole time. and i myself am an oc artist— an amateur, for sure!!! i am not nearly as talented as nearly all of my friends when it comes to the visual arts, but i am improving and my work still deserves to be acknowledged.

i get trapped in these little echochambers where i wonder if my art is the scum of the earth, or if people just aren't reblogging it because it isn't directed at a specific fandom.

take my voidfish cosplans. that was a once-in-a-blue-moon fandom post. and it was a sketch. it took me all of an hour to make, and it blew up to a hundred notes because it's fandom content.

my oc art takes me much longer, and it's a miracle to even get half as many notes as that. my oc art usually gets anywhere from 15 to 30 notes:

[ID: three screenshots of the notes on some of my art posts. the first has 24 notes, the second has 18, and the third has 30. end ID.]

and this includes all of my self-reblogs and, of course, likes, which i'm sure we all know by now don't do shit. one of my most recent pieces i spent nearly 40 hours making, and as of writing this post, it sits at 24 notes. taking into account self reblogs and likes... yikes!!

most people whose oc work gets popular does so because they were either popular fanartists beforehand or the work displays insanely good technical talent (or, rarely, they just get very lucky). and good for those people!!! but i also put a lot of work into my oc content, and so do a lot of my friends. our work also deserves recognition. supporting fanartists is not the end all be all. independent artists who aren't heavily tied to fandom often get discouraged because no one is interested in the work they create. it's really sad to see.

so support oc artists!!! scroll through "my ocs" "my characters" tags on tumblr!! yes the sorry excuse for an algorithm here sucks but you never know!!! you might strike gold!!! support your mutuals that you already have!!!! support small artists and beginners!!! enthusiasm for more independent artists' work can and will only foster an attitude that will help both fandom and non-fandom creative settings, but don't leave non-fandom work behind.

feel free to drop the urls of oc artists you know in the notes :]

#I WILL BE SELF REBLOGGING THIS BECAUSE I AM ACTUALLY VERY PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS!!!!#OC ARTISTS BE ANNOYING IN THE TAGS ADVERTISE YOUR ART BLOGS AND YOUR COMMISSIONS #YOU DESERVE IT. LORD #the void sings #art

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corviisquire · 2 months

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Creatures have colors!!

Left to Right: @moonchild-in-blue @leonsleftbicep @ghxstly-death

@pear-island

Left to Right: @a-s-levynn @foundationsofdecay @polteergeistt

They have been colored along with making some minor adjustments. If anyone wants anything changed please let me know! These creatures are yours so name them whatever you want, develop lore if ya want, and do whatever you want with them. Possible next batch will probably be made later next week.

Art notes under cut :D

I put some music drops because music inspires me too much.

Moonchild-in-blue: The blues and purples!! Opals and the insides of muscle shells inspired me a lot with the coloring (particularly the stars and moon). There’s another shell that has that shiny blue and green lining on the inside but I can’t remember the name of it. It was a full moon last night but I forgot to take a picture! Thought of you but anyways I loved coloring the lady. It was fun but I first I struggled on deciding if I wanted more blue or purple.

Some songs I listened to a lot while coloring this:

Sweet Disposition - Temper Trap

Moon Child - F16s

The Night Does Not Belong to God - you know who

Leonsleftbicep: Colors go crazy! Idk what your favorite colors are but I chose The Blue. I also incorporated some red (for yummy contrast and complementary colors). I realized this looked very vampire media core. EyAH enjoy the critter!

Some songs I listened to while coloring this:

Blue Monday - Orgy

Military Fashion Show - And One

The Apparition - do I really need to say who?

Ghxstly-death: Per your request, red and black was incorporated! Was inspired by Mohg, Lord of Blood, from Elden ring cause he has cool robes and a trident thingy. I really like how it turned out. Like I’ve been doing with every design is adding the bling and I felt gold would work well.

Was resisting the urge to put the entire One EP right here:

Get The Balance Right! - Depeche Mode

Mascara - Deftones

Jaws - Slep tonka

SEVEN HOUR SHITTER (pearisland/perryisle): You use bright colors in your art all the time so we got the colors goingggg. Little guy reminds me of Pumpkin Patch protagonist or Hollow Knight. Idk. Not much to say except TRIPLE DEATH SLIME BARRAGE!!!

No normal music for you. only Kevin Macleod and Pizza Tower ST.

A-s-levynn: More Dark Sun Gwyndolin inspiration… (you can tell I have my dark souls art books open next to me right now). As requested, tendrils/tentacles were added! I think it improved the design a whole lot because it was originally very symmetrical and the tentacles added just the right amount of asymmetry to balance out the overall look. I’m a huge fromsoft fan (playing Elden Ring, waiting for new DLC, have dark souls 1 remastered but haven’t started it yet, have bloodborne Elden ring and DS1/3 art books) so lots of my art has elements from Fromsoft games (neutron activation).

And just like everyone else, some music for the soul:

Too Late - 311

Scared Together - Silversun Pickups

Dark Signs - eepy coin

Foundationsofdecay: Again, taking more inspiration from your blog, colors and stuff. The design had subconscious influence from the game sky: children of the light. Had lotsa fun coloring it. I don’t know much about you like favorite colors or flowers but I tried my best!

Songs that inspired me:

Let It Happen - Tame Impala

Flux - Bloc Party

Rain - tired currency

Polteergeistt: The oarfish colors… A lot Of these characters have cool blues so I tried to use some teal blues to contrast the red/pink(?). “Nintendo switch core” I’m sobbing. I fixed the feet. Now my Pinterest is filled to the brim with fish images (specifically oarfish, sea jellies, and blue lobsters).

The music!!!!!:

UNDERWATER BOI - Turnstile

The Illness (Teenagers Remix) - GoodBooks

Descending - exhausted dollar

Thank you so much. All of you are such lovely people. 🫂💕🫶

#art #my art #digital art #art gift #gift art #gift #creature #oc art #OC

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mirrorball-writings · 2 months

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Watch Me.

Isabelle Clarichet is a racing prodigy. She is beyond talented and has won countless races and championships, but she still faces doubt and criticism simply because she is a woman. Thankfully, one team believes in her, and gives her the opportunity she deserves to move up the ranks and ultimately earn a seat in Formula 1.

WC: 2.3k

Reading time: 8:33

Warnings: sexism

I’ve heard the cheers after every race, and they never sound like they do when I’m the one standing on the podium. When I hold the trophy over my head and spray the champagne, I don’t hear roaring applause. It’s quieter; there’s more whispering, and I can always hear the one guy in the back making some inappropriate comment, asking me to take off the race suit and show off my fireproofs, show off my body. Or something like that. It doesn’t matter how close the race was, or how far ahead I was from the next car, it’s always the same. I’m used to it now — it’s been this way even since I was karting. I’m used to the hush over the crowd when they realize that a girl won the race, and I’m used to the awkward conversations when people say, “Really, Isabelle? Why would you want to be a racing driver? You could do something more… conventional.” They’ve never figured out the right word to use. I’m used to all the judgment and doubts, but most of all, I’m used to the rejections.

I’ve always been a talented driver. My parents hammered that in early: If I’m going to do something, I had better do it right. If I’m going to try something, I had better be successful. Since my early karting days, I’ve been a fair rival to even the prodigies on the track, and my competitors learned early on to respect me as one of their own. Unfortunately, not everyone got that memo. I was barely a teenager when I realized that. While all my friends were getting their first sponsorships and team offers, I was still sitting with my blank kart, not a brand to be seen. At first, I thought it was luck of the draw, but I knew my place, and I knew that I was better than many of my competitors, who were flooded with offers to join training programs. The obvious difference between us was the unavoidable fact that I was a girl. I was only thirteen when I came to terms with the fact that my journey in racing will not get easier. I will always have to fight to be taken seriously, and I will have to drive twice as fast to get the same respect in this sport. It isn’t fair, but that’s how it is. Talent alone was not enough for me.

F4 starts at fifteen, so teams usually like to give offers for their training programs when drivers are still fourteen. For me, thirteen and fourteen passed by with no contacts, and fifteen didn’t seem to be going any better. When I asked the man who ran my local karting league, he recommended going to the teams myself, and asking to be considered for a seat. He told me, “Isabelle, you’re talented. You deserve a seat, at least as much as these other drivers do. You have to understand that teams are nervous to give you a seat, because they’ve never had a girl drive for them. I know that you can handle it, but you have to show them that you have what it takes. They won’t realize it on their own.” It’s unfair. It’s beyond unfair. I knew that at fifteen, and a fifteen-year-old girl should never be facing the realization that she will always be at a disadvantage, just because she’s a girl. But, ultimately, I knew he was right. I had already seen it firsthand: No teams were going to come to me, so if I wanted an offer, I would have to go to them myself.

I wanted to drive for ART. They were in France, so they wouldn’t be too far away, and they were an incredible racing team where I would really have the opportunity to improve and work towards a Formula 1 seat. I flew out to France, and I made my case. I showed them my records, and all the awards and championships I had won with my racing. They seemed impressed, but when the time came for them to decide whether I’d get an offer, all they said was, “We don’t think you’re the right fit for our team.” I was shocked, and I was embarrassed, but I was not hopeless. I went to DAMS, and I gave them the same presentation. I received the same answer.

“You’re just not the right fit for our team.”

“We’re not sure you’re ready for this next step in your career.”

“Maybe take a few more years in karting, and then we can reconsider.”

“We just want to make sure our drivers are ready for the pressure of F4.”

I went home. I trained, and I raced, and I won, again and again and again. I proved myself, again and again and again. I put myself out there, and I made records, and I kept winning. And yet, all remained silent — no offers, no contact. No team would sign a girl to a seat.

I was sixteen when I finally got an offer. It was from PREMA. They wanted me to come to their headquarters for training, to hopefully put me into an F3 seat for next season. I couldn’t pass it up, and a few weeks later, I had packed my things and moved to Italy, to what would end up being my home for almost three years.

I thought being signed to a team would be the end of it, but the whispers remained. PREMA itself was supportive, and I wasn’t even the only girl in their program. Being around other female drivers, and being in a program that believed that we could perform just as well as boys, was a welcome change, and plenty of the other F3 teams and drivers had the same respect for me as PREMA did. Still, we saw it in the news, and we heard the comments at the races. Any mistake I made, and we were bound to hear questions of whether a girl was really cut out for an intense sport like racing. No matter how much I assured them I had what it takes, they always wanted to ask my teammate what he thought about it. He must know better.

I started F3 at sixteen, and F2 at seventeen. I raced harder than ever, and the original skeptics shut up after long. I raced just as well as my teammate, and I had more podiums than many of my competitors. I didn’t win the championship, but I was close behind. I won sixth in F3, a far better placement than most rookies, and I couldn’t ask for much better, since I knew I wouldn’t beat the records of Piastri, Sargeant, Vesti, and the like. My first year in F2, I ended up in sixth. My second year, I won second place. I still heard the criticism and the doubts, and I couldn’t escape the negative comments on social media, but things were much quieter. I was proud of my results, and I was proud of how well I had proved that I had what it takes, but I expected nothing of it, at least for a few years to come. Much to my surprise, though, less than a month after the end of the F2 season, I got an offer for a Formula 1 seat. All of my hard work had paid off, and it was time to prove once and for all that I deserved to be a driver just as much as anybody else.

Pre-season training flew by in an F1 car, literally and metaphorically. Being surrounded by the drivers I had watched growing up, and being a rookie alongside some of my best friends from the past few years, made the experience just that much more of a dream, although it certainly all felt unreal to finally be here, living out the daydream I had had since the day I started karting so many years ago. After all the rejections, all the doubts, I had certainly had many days where I thought this would never come to me, and yet I was here, driving a real F1 car, preparing to take my place on a real F1 team for the upcoming season. My arm was bruised from being pinched.

I had made it. I thought to myself, “This is the end of the naysayers. This is the end of the skepticism and the judgment. This is the beginning of a career of respect, where I will finally be seen as equal to the other drivers.” That was my assumption, and I was sure it would be the truth, but my contract had still not been announced. There was speculation, to be sure, about who would take the seat this year, and about whether I or any other F2 drivers would end up as reserve drivers or in actual seats this year in F1, but no formal announcements had been made, so I was only working on assumption when I assured myself that this season would be different. I could never have imagined how wrong I could have been.

I woke up on January 18 like I did any other day. Alarm goes off, I roll out of bed, I brush my teeth, I eat breakfast. It was almost an hour before I opened my phone — almost an hour that I was awake and unaware of what was going on. When I did check my phone, though, I saw hundreds, maybe thousands, of notifications waiting for me on every social media platform I owned. Tags, reposts, follows, comments; something must have happened for this many people to be taking this much notice of me. Upon opening Instagram, I was met with a bright graphic from one of the many F1 news accounts I follow. I couldn’t miss the bold text: “F2 runner-up Isabelle Clarichet to join F1 this season?!”

How could they have found out? We hadn’t made the announcement, and I knew we weren’t going to for a few more weeks, as we were still getting everything sorted. When I looked in the caption, I found my answer: They didn’t know if this was true, but they had heard rumours from an “anonymous source within the F1 community” that I had been doing training with one of the teams. I decided not to address any of the innumerable questions about whether this was true, because I wasn’t supposed to let anyone outside of my immediate family and closest friends know that I had signed a contract until the team made their own official announcement. My own silence, though, didn’t stop the comments and messages from flooding in. I received countless DMs and mentions in posts and comments telling me the same things I had heard so many times before in my career.

“Women don’t belong in motorsport.”

“Go back to ballet class.”

“She won’t be able to handle the pressure of real racing.”

“What happened to hiring athletes?”

It isn’t fair. Again and again I’ve proved my worth and shown the world that I could handle pressure and competition, that I could win, and still people doubt whether I deserve to be here. Thankfully, having done well in F2 and F3, I had gained a following over the years of people excited to see a woman excelling in a male-dominated sport like racing, and they were happy to support me every time one of these ignorant comments appeared. And, thankfully, the opinions of some random guy on the internet doesn’t really matter, because I’d already signed a contract with a team, and whatever people thought about it wouldn’t change the fact that I would be racing. I tried to encourage myself with that idea, that their opinions couldn’t change reality. But it still hurt. It hurt so much to know that I would probably never be enough for them, just because I was a girl.

Three weeks is a long time to wait when your inbox is constantly flooded with questions and speculations about where you’re racing next year. Three weeks is a long time to continuously see hateful messages and be unable to defend yourself against them. But three weeks was how long I would have to wait before an official statement could be put out revealing my contract with the team. Those three weeks were filled with training, track practice, and silent tears of frustration. They went by quickly.

I could almost hear the uproar when the news went out. I could almost feel the tension in the air as people would be reading about where I had signed, as people would be making up their minds about whether or not they would support me this year. I knew the moment I opened my phone, I would see thousands of congratulations clashed against thousands of hateful worlds, but I was prepared, and I knew that this was what was in store for me for the rest of my career. I wasn’t worried. I had my team on my side, and I had the support and respect of all the other drivers on the grid. I had proved myself before, and I was prepared to do it again, and again, and again, every day for the rest of my life. And, indeed, when I opened up my phone, I saw the announcement there. I saw the comments. I saw the excitement and the disappointment and the anger all mingled together, right there in front of me, for myself and the world to see. But overshadowing it all was the fact that this was real, and this contract had been signed and the seat had been taken and the person who had done so was me. And that announcement said a name, and it was my name. My name.

“Nineteen-year-old Isabelle Clarichet to join Mercedes F1 team 2023.”

This is the first part of my F1 "series" Baby Driver (yes, I know Baby Driver is also a movie title, but I just love the sound of it so that's the series name). I put "series" in quotes because it won't be a series in the traditional sense, meaning it won't follow one constant plotline, but it will instead be a number of different scenarios and stories of the same character and in the same universe, if that makes sense. So all of the stories will be about Isabelle and her experiences in F1 and interactions with other drivers. I should point out as a disclaimer that obviously I had to switch around some drivers so that Isabelle could race at Mercedes, so I apologize if I mention someone racing at a different team than they actually do. Feel free to request any story, F1 or not, and you can also request stories for Baby Driver as well if you have any ideas!

#fanfiction #imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #formula racing

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