#but maybe a higher level would net me more points

[corruptedcaps]

Brat App

Ugh why did Mom have to marry the Dad of that bitch Alison?! As if being bullied at school isn’t enough now I have to get it at home too? I guess it’s not all bad though because I was able to hack into Alison’s phone and invite myself onto the exclusive ‘Brat App’ that Alison and her friends are all on. No idea what it is but with any luck I’ll find out some dirt on Alison to get her finally expelled so I can have some peace.

Hmmm this just looks to be some sort of social status game with challenges built on top. Every challenge has a ‘Brat’ value associated with it. So the more challenges a person does the higher up the leaderboard they climb and the higher up the rank. No big shock that Alison is sitting at the top as a level 10! Which gives her the rank of ‘Brat Queen’ which appropriate. By my calculations that would be…. nearly 10,000 points! Wow she must be addicted to this game. Looks like I got 1,000 bonus just for signing up and I can spend it on my little avatar of myself. Let’s see what I can buy. Sure why not, let’s improve her eyesight.…

Holy crap what just happened? My body feels all tingly and different. My glasses are making my eyes blurry. Did… did this app just cure my eyesight? This is unbelievable! What else can it do… more athletic, long nails, thick hair, big boobs, perfect posture. It makes sense now! All these challenges are real life challenges! This is how Alison is the hottest most feared girl in school! Ok new plan, if I raise the ranks of this app, and surpass Alison’s score then she’ll have to listen to me and become nicer. How hard could it be? I’m already at level one after all and these challenges don’t seem that difficult….

Bold makeup. Check. Revealing dress. Check. And that’s net me… let’s see here. 50 points? At this rate I’ll finish college before I have enough points! I need more bigger ticket items. Let me redeem these pathetic points at least. Mmmm nothing changed but it did give me a nice little tingle. Ok for 1000 points I need to… send some nudes?! Absolutely not! Alison hasn’t even done that! For another 1000 I need to suck a married cock? How vile! Ok this is more doable. Spread a vicious rumor about a classmate for 300. I could do that I guess. Hmmm I have to post it directly to the app so it can’t be about Alison or any of her friends. I know, I’ll say something about Lisa the unfortunate overweight girl in our class. She’ll never see it. I’ll say she was banned from Dairy Queen for breaking in and eating their whole stock. And send! Ohhhh somethings happening!

Oh god my tits! They’ve gone up like two sizes! But why? Hmmm looks like I hit some hidden ‘Bitch Bonus’ by doing that challenge. This is amazing and all I had to do was make fun of that whale Lisa. I know it was mean but it feels so fucking good! She’ll be fine it’s not like anyone will believe it anyway. <ding> ohhh that felt nice, what was it? Oh one of Alison’s friends liked my post. <ding> mmmm another one of her friends liked my post! Every like is 10 points and feels so gooood! <ding> oh fuck yesss girls keep liking! It feels so hawt! Maybe I should spread a few more lies…

Mmmm my body feels so much better in these clothes I redeemed! After only a few more rumors I got easily up to level 5, ‘Beta Bitch’, which unlocked my beautiful nails, my gorgeous silky hair, my perfect makeup, and all the knowledge to maintain them. Even my body is better shape, I’m so flexible now! Not to say anything about my lovely big tits! Alison’s friends seemed to really enjoy my wicked little rumours. I can’t deny it wasn’t fun writing them and it was even better getting the likes for them!

But I do feel kind of bad for all those losers I wrote stuff about though, I think the Brat App is effecting not just my body but my mind too. I feel so nasty and mean everytime I use it and even more now in this tight blouse and short skirt. I can’t help if I’m hotter than those dorks now! No that’s the app’s influence talking! I have to stop using the app, but I need to topple Alison! Ugh what do I do? <ding> what’s this? I’ve unlocked a new bonus. ‘Morality Suppression’? Hmmm that would solve my problems I guess and there is an option to turn it off later. Ok I’m going to do it! It’s for the good of the school after all. Here goes…

Ohhhhh fuck yesss that sooo much better. Like hell this is for the good of the school this is for the good of me! I feel so fucking free now. To think I was feeling regret for those pathetic fattys and geeky nerds I was writing about! I only regret not writing more! The only people worth anything are my bratty followers who like my posts and even they need to know their place and they will when I surpass Alison and become the new Queen bee. Oh fuck I feel so horny being this bad! I need some release and quick! Mmmm maybe I can finally tick off some of these challenges old me was too much of a loser to attempt. Mmmm yesss those will raise my rank in no time! Oh I have the perfectly wicked idea that will make me a bratty goddess by the end of the day! Oh step daddy!

Changed? Nonsense step daddy I’ve always looked like this. I’m a spoilt wicked little bitch just like your precious daughter, only you can fuck me. What’s the matter step daddy? Cat got your tongue? I bet you always wanted to fuck your mean little princess didn’t you? But you’re a good man and would never do that would you? But guess what? I’m not your daughter but I’m everything she is and more. Would you like a look under my shirt? Sure you would.

Hehe I see you like it step daddy. The outline of your cock is practically bursting out of your pants. Mmm and it looks so impressive. Let me have a peek <zip> oh step daddy, I can see why mommy married you. You’re so big! It’s making my mouth water. I need to have it step daddy, please say yes! I know you’re still hesitant so maybe it might convince you if I stopped calling you step daddy and instead called you… daddy. Mmm you like that don’t you… daddy? You want to put that big cock in my mouth and have my perfect pink lips suck it don’t you… daddy?

Mmmm thanks daddy for the great fucking, you’ve helped me complete so many nasty challenges. Suck a married cock. Check. Fuck an older man. Check. Call him daddy. Mmmm double check. After everything we got up to I completed over a dozen challenges, more than enough to take you bitch of a daughter’s crown. I just have to redeem the points now and assume the throne…. Mmmm it feels so good but something different is happening… oh fuck something amazing is happening!

Mmmm oh fuck yessss! Look at me, I’m a blonde busty bitch now! Im older and sexier and I feel so fucking nasty and hawt but how is this possible? Oh I see I unlocked a new challenge tree and a new rank. Mmmm ‘Homewrecker’ I love the sound of that! Who needs to be a bratty queen when I could be the wicked bitch that stole her daddy instead. Thats right darling, I’ve levelled up to being your mistress now and if you’re lucky and do as I say soon I’ll unlock ‘Trophy Wife’ and you can spoil me rotten as you should. Don’t worry I’ll still call you daddy, it makes everything feel so much more naughty. My mother? You mean that old crone Emma? She’s not my mother anymore, she not even my rival, she’s just an obstacle to our love, isn’t that right? Mmmm I knew you’d agree…. Daddy.

EPILOGUE

Alison was wondering what her father was doing that was taking so god damn long that he couldn’t have sent a car or something to pick her up from the mall like he promised. She had spent so much on his credit card that she was surrounded by high end boutique bags. Just when she was reaching her finally straw she got a message from him telling her he had sent a friend, some woman by the name of Gabrielle, to pick her up. Alison hadn’t heard of any Gabrielle before, except maybe her new dorky step sister but she went by Gabby anyway.

Following her father’s instructions to Gabrielle, Alison’s mouth was agape when she turned the corner to find a stunning blonde waiting for her. The blonde looked at Alison with distain and made Alison feel insignificant for the first time in her life. She didn’t like it. Gabrielle didn’t let up with her stare down, enjoying the way Alison averted her gaze. Alison meanwhile was grateful that their encounter was going to brief.

“So you’re Ted’s daughter? Hmmm I expected somebody a little more… impressive.” Gabrielle said not willing to hide her distaste. If this was anyone else Alison would have ground them to dust with only a few choice words but she felt so intimidated as she got into the car with the blonde bitch.

So much so that her phone dinged to tell her she lost some Brat points for her weakness. She had never lost points before! Gabrielle smirked to herself as she looked at her own phone and saw her points climb. She couldn’t wait become a wicked step mother.

[bltngames]

Mod Spotlight: Sonic Forces Overclocked

So this is an interesting little thing. For those of you not aware, Sonic Forces Overclocked (if I'm remembering right) was originally an attempt to "fix" Sonic Forces by expanding all of the levels and even completely rewriting the story. Obviously that's a big task, and the developers eventually realized that, scaling it down into what could best be described as an "Encore" of sorts -- an epilogue story where the villains make one last desperate final push, spread out across remixed versions of eight of the game's best levels. All told, it's about an hour worth of content.

Which is... actually totally fine. With eight (technically seven, but the final boss still counts) levels, there's plenty to see. Actually, pacing is probably Overclocked's strongest suit.

The original Sonic Forces was a pacing disaster; levels often felt like they were cut off at the knees, usually ending just as they were getting started. That's never true in Overclocked, as each level took me a good 3-5+ minutes to finish. Levels in Overclocked are also massively improved in other ways, too -- all that extra length is put to good use with Sonic's trademark alternate pathways, new enemies, and new interactive elements. Interactivity is up across the board. Sonic Forces loved to lock you into long, obnoxious scripted set pieces but Overclocked keeps you firmly in control most of the time.

Which brings me to something I'm not entirely sure is a complaint: difficulty balance. If you've been reading this blog long enough you know I can be pretty picky about difficulty balancing, and the way its handled in Overclocked is interesting.

Generally speaking, Overclocked treats the boost like "expert mode." It's there for people who know the levels already and want to push themselves to do it faster. At first it's fine -- boosting means you'll miss some alternate paths (shortcuts, most likely) but you can still bumble your way to the end of the level and coast by on C ranks. The further you get into the game, though, the more it starts to punish you for trying to go fast without knowing what you're doing. The safety nets that would catch you in earlier levels go away and Overclocked tells you to either slow down or get serious.

Which... I think I'm fine with? The thing it brings to mind for me is the two Sonic Rush games. My favorite one is Sonic Rush Adventure, because it's more accessible (read: easier to learn) than the first Sonic Rush. At the same time, the first Sonic Rush ends up being the more replayable of the two games, because it's a lot harder to master. The higher skill ceiling has kept me coming back to Sonic Rush long after it felt like I wrung all of the gameplay out of Sonic Rush Adventure.

So the idea of a Sonic game not only facilitating a higher skill ceiling but maybe even encouraging that? Not the worst way to balance things, as long as you keep the less skilled players in mind and communicate things correctly. Which, at least for me, I feel like Overclocked does. It started to kick my butt at certain points, but never in a way that felt too mean or unfair. And that's exactly the way it should be, though it should be noted I haven't exactly put myself through the hell of trying to go for higher ranks.

The one real complaint I have about the levels is something I've been observing for years, and unfortunately my fears came true: the lighting.

I've talked about my monitor in the past. I bought it somewhere between 2011 and 2012, so it's getting up there in years. I believe it was the first thing I ever purchased with my Youtube Earnings. It's starting to get kind of dim in its old age, and it's exacerbated by the fact I like to keep it on its "Theater Mode" setting, which gives me really good black levels (for an LCD) and amazing color. But it's an aging monitor, so those amazing black levels end up feeling a little dark, depending on the game. For those of you who caught my halloween streams this year, you know I ended up switching my monitor to its "Standard Mode" because it flattens the contrast and makes the darkest darks more visible. It could be argued that I should just leave the monitor in "Standard Mode" at this point, but I can't stand how Windows looks with it turned on.

To cut to the chase, I had to turn on "Standard Mode" for Sonic Forces Overclocked. In keeping with the theme of this being an encore, a lot of levels have wildly new lighting applied to them, with many levels set later in the evening or at night.

This blankets a lot of levels in a single color and lots of high-contrast shadows, which makes character, enemy, and hazard visibility incredibly difficult. In some levels with a lot of high-frequency noise (like Chemical Plant) it can be difficult to tell where your character even is on screen sometimes. In other levels, like the revamped Mystic Forest, the blue-on-purple-on-teal color scheme makes for a readability nightmare (as does the Death Egg Core level with Buddy, with a red character navigating a level full of orange fog, lit by pink and yellow lights).

When you're running through these stages at a couple hundred miles per hour, it all blurs together into something that's sometimes either too dark or too muddy to parse. At one point Sonic jokes that Infinite's aesthetic is "monochrome colors" but I'd rather have the levels be readable at a glance than hanging a lampshade on it. Things just need to be a little brighter, with a little more diversity of color to highlight the edges of roads and incoming hazards.

The story is... fine. It's not incredibly deep, and it doesn't need to be, so it works well enough. There's actually a surprising amount here, though, from mid-level chatter, map screen debriefings, and even full on cutscenes. Voice acting duties seem to be handled by Adrenaline Dubs, who I subscribed to last year for their surprisingly good dubs of Archie and IDW Sonic comics. They turn in some pretty high quality work here, often rivaling Sega's official dubbing efforts. My only real complaint is that Sonic's dialog is a little too referential; his call-outs during levels often reference other infamous lines from different Sonic games ("The whole city's on fire!", etc.), and sort of like how the game pokes fun at the monochromatic lighting, there's a line where Sonic even cringes at his own dialog a little bit. "We're admitting it's bad, but still doing it anyway" is not a healthy design ethos.

Earlier I mentioned cutscenes, and rather than the complex, high-budget cutscenes Sega had in the original Forces, Overclocked instead opts for motion comic videos. Artistic duties for these cutscenes are shared between a handful of 4 or 5 different artists, each bringing their own art style to their scenes. Generally, I think this is a good move. A little more consistency between artists would make it feel a bit more polished, but seeing the art style change between scenes has its own charms, too. It really drives home how much of Sonic Forces Overclocked was not only a team effort, but to some degree, a community effort. Many different hands touched this project, and it is better for it.

It's easy to focus on the negative things I said about Sonic Forces Overclocked here and think I came away not really liking it. Nothing could be further from the truth. I think this is a genuinely impressive mod, with significantly better level design than the base game. It has a few problems, sure, but the overall product, when taken as a whole, is absolutely wonderful. This might be a bit incendiary and hyperbolic, but this close to the top of the list as the most fun I've had with a Sonic game this year. If you own Sonic Forces on Steam, it's not to be missed.

Download: https://gamebanana.com/mods/485051

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin's Current Love Life 31.8.24

First things first he's not in a relationship.

He's not having any crushes either, nor entertaining anyone at this current time.

He's focused on his self-growth and getting himself to a position/state he wants to be. He's building himself. I would even say he's remastering himself.

He has rejected lots of people and left lots of crushes behind, and i believe he has had his fair share of heartbreak in his love life. From both sides i would say.

I think he has been pretty unlucky in his love life till now. That's why he's taking a break (i believe a longer break too, I'm seeing webs😂 i think he hasn't been in the game for a while) from all that dating/relationships stuff. Quite a contrast ti the rest if his life cuz he generally seems like a very lucky person overall. Very gifted, with lots of good people around him and he seems to me like opportunities just keep flowing his way. Someone that gives the vibe of being "gods favourit".

He has invested sooo much energy and time and just himself in vain, shallow, mismatched and even toxic relationships that have taken from him more than they have given. I think this would be his Achiles Heel and the one thing he doesn't have. Like he has it all, but he doesn't have that. Or at least that's how he feels.

I think with all the success he has had with his career, finances, popularity among people and friends, luck with his family, academical success yada yada yada - he has reached a point where as satisfiying those things once were - they don't bring him the fulfillment he once had. I think he feels a certain emptiness and maybe even a bit of aimlessness? Don't get me wrong i think he still lives doing music, but being an idol is not what it once was to him and as he has grown more mature and satiated his greediness for sucess - his needs have moved elsewhere and now he's really thirsty and greedy for love. I think thats why he has so many spilled cups - cuz he has felt that way for a while now and has eagerly tried to find the missing piece, but its not that easy as all of the other stuff. And so now he has come to a point where he "waits".

I think this is a lesson for him to bring him down to earth a bit and to humble him. Not that he's not humble. He is. But thats a different kind if humbleness im talking about. Like, he has had so much given to him in terms of options. I believe he's someone that has always had the opportunity to choose. And whatever he chose it would've been good. Of course he has to put in lots of work into what he does, we see that now in his songs and performance etc. but for him it was always easier than for others. His odds for success are higher. Even if he doesn't succeed and excel, he doesn't fail. And if he were to ever fail, he would have a safety net from steel and gold, with people on every corner waiting for him to choose from which end of the net he wants to get down. And then when he does he gets his hand held each step, not even that, he's carried. Thats the image im getting in terms of what i mean he has had it easy compared to others. (Small note i believe any hate and ignorance etc that might come his way is genuinely nothing but pure jealousy from people. Energy can feel energy. Even if people don't know him, they subconsciously feel how full his cup is with the highest quality of wine, and that its golden and adorned with all kinds of diamonds and precious stones...meanwhile the have a few raindrops in their hands.) As i said "gods favourite". But that favour reaches only to a certain point - and this more unlucky part of his life is the one thing to put him on the same level as others. While other people are just regular, he's exceptional - but in turn for that, he has a continuous thirst for something he cannot get until he deserves it in some way i feel like. And it's completely out of his reach or control. I think thats a feeling thats very foreign to him. So thats what i mean by humbling.

I got too much into that specific topic but yeah, i think he has battled with this for a while and has reached a new level of that stage/lesson in his life and i believe his curent focus is on himself and bettering himself as a person. Growing outside of himself and getting reborn. Turning inside, and also reaching further than his arms length. I believe he has been pretty sheltered and has always had a pretty small circle. Like he has kept in his comfort zone most if not all of his life and hasn't done much outside if it for the simple reason the never had a reason to. Until now.

I would say he's on a journey:)

And i see him "praying" for wisdom, for guidance, for a direction. He's "praying" for love. And i don't mean praying in the religious sense but rather he's just reaching out to the universe. As i said above - reaching out beyond his arms length. He's in search of more. Higher meaning. I believe he's someone that has already mastered the physical very very well!!! Probably his good karma from many many successful past lives. And i believe his soulmate (the one he's seeking and praying for and doing all this transformation for) is the exact opposite. I believe his soulmate has always had great luck in the more higher aspects of life (sadly those are way less in a physical world) but little to no knowledge on how to operate the physical world. I think both of them are currently in a metamorphosis state where he reaches out to her, while she reaches out to him. He reaches up for the sky, while she learns how to stand on the ground and when they learn they both will meet in the middle and continue learning from each other and supporting each other.

I feel like there's much more to it but i had to take a break in between the reading and had to go back to it later, which made me lose that train of "thought" i had, and the cards in itself don't show anything else than what i've already talked about so I guess I'll leave it at that. And in a few months i might do another one as a continuation/follow up of this one.

Since this reading was very divinely oriented, involving energy concerning his past lives, destiny, soulmate, karma, purpose, life lessons etc, i think ill do one about such divine orchestration topics soon, as i believe he's someone that has a lot of energy to read about that:)

[razzberriezz]

Fashion Dreamer Thoughts

Some things I found interesting about Fashion Dreamer! (Not everything will be here) I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts about it too :D Please note, all these screenshots were taken from the first trailer and store listing info only, so please take everything with a heaping pinch of salt (if future info disproves everything lmao)!

Also please note this post is pretty text and image-heavy! You may want to open it over wi-fi only or on desktop!

1. Character Customisation

First of all, it looks like we have the option to play with female/male looking avatars (finally)! However, the screenshot showing the male avatar doesn’t look to have any dresses/one-piece clothes in his inventory so clothing may still be gender-locked...

Secondly, it looks like the male avatar has facial hair?? The light beige around his chin looks like it anyway. At the very least, his eyebrows are definitely also beige, so it seems like we can have different colours for our hairstyle and eyebrows!

Unnatural skintones for all your fantasy needs... Or at least this ghostly zombie-like one which I haven’t seen any living human have. Since Fashion Dreamer takes place in the virtual world of Eve, it makes sense that we’d be able to have them! It might just be me, but it also looks like there are more height variations available too - I don’t remember the difference being so big between the shortest and tallest options before.

(On the billboard at the back, there are matching sailor uniforms for both genders, which ties back to my previous thinking that clothes might be gender-locked... I hope I’ll be proved wrong)

Sweet new hairstyles! We can mirror the styles and dye the same style in different ways, however it seems to be reminiscent of GM2 in that the fringe and back style aren’t able to be selected separately (Going off the trailer when the avatar’s hair switches from a wispy sideswept fringe and pigtails to this long blunt cut immediately)

Since this was in the part of the trailer featuring photoshoots (more on that soon) I’m assuming the second icon is pose selection? Along with hairstyle, hair colour and eyebrow style. Being able to change your avatar’s height/skin colour and face shape might be the first and second last icons (That’d be pretty cool, considering those options were locked behind completing the main story in previous GM games!) The third one is the one I’m confused about, since I would have thought that the clothes change icon would be something like a shirt or hanger lol - maybe it’s accessories??

2. Gameplay Mechanics

So... from everything I’ve seen in the trailer, it doesn’t seem like we earn money through styling anymore - instead we earn brand influencer points? Along with bingo tickets, which serve a currently unknown purpose. Leveling up increases our item box space (which I assume would be the equivalent of our closet in GM) and nets us creative points which will be used in fashion designing!

I think it was @alphards-asterism who mentioned something about not being able to buy clothes from the exhibition mall anymore, but it looks like it might still be available judging by the last screenshot (taken from the store listing images)? Unless the whole thing is just a set for the photoshoot feature, which would be MEGA disappointing :( 

There are... rarities for clothes now??? Not sure how to feel about that; it kind of reminds me of those mobile gacha games where higher rarity=higher charm/popularity. Maybe it only affects the amount of points needed to create it? Another thing that caught my eye is the ‘type’ - the dress in the first screenshot is type A, while the earrings in the second don’t have a type. I wonder what this means? :o

It seems like Fashion Dreamer truly does emphasise on creating your own brand, with us being able to create anything from dresses to socks to earrings! It looks like the creative points we earn from leveling up are used to unlock new designs. It also looks like there are lots of colours available (from the start...? Here’s hoping there’s no freaking colour hunting in this game... :’))

3. PHOTOSHOOTS

PHOTOSHOOTS RETURN!!! I know we had the photo taking in GM4, but that one just felt so lackluster to me :( I’m sooo excited for this feature to be improved and expanded upon!

The sets look absolutely amazing - the angel wings illusion is so super cute (Pripara, anyone?) The avant-garde looking monochrome/blue set are really striking and includes mannequin styling! The last screenshot is my fave for two reasons: lots of pink and a gorgeous frame too!! The background looks like the brand backgrounds in previous GM games, doesn’t it? With all the repeating patterns and text? Maybe it alludes to a new brand 👀 or I’m just reading too much into it LOL.

There’s a ‘Play Pose Motion’ option, so I think it means we can save videos instead of just pictures now! In the second screenshot, there’s a ‘Drone Camera’ option - I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but it’s nice to know that we don’t have to stick to just the usual front-facing camera anymore.

These 3 things were the biggest sections of the trailer that really caught my eye (besides the obvious stuff, like graphical improvement and such)! I’m gonna hold off on commenting on the player interaction because I think there’s really just not enough info about it, BUT I will mention that I would be heartbroken if there aren’t any weird but lovable NPCs anymore... I can’t really imagine a GM game without colourful characters like Emmylou, Sophie, Rosie/Yolanda/Alina or even good ol’ Uncle Tim (LMAO) even if they’re trying to move away from Girls Mode and rebrand to Fashion Dreamer.

Anyway here’s hoping we’ll get more info soon!! Thanks for reading, and feel free to chime in with your own thoughts or things you’re interested in! :D​

[osrs-stonks]

OSRS Stocks: Ensouled Chaos Druid Heads

Old-school Runescape has a mechanic where some enemy mobs drop ensouled heads when you defeat them. Usually enemies will drop some standard items like bones, ashes, coins and/or meat, and then have a small chance of dropping some other stuff like weapons, ammunition, armour or runes. The ensouled head is an occasional drop that - as you've probably guessed - gives you their head with a little bit of their soul inside of it.

The purpose of this mechanic is to help you train your prayer skill. Prayers are basically just buffs, and the higher you make your prayer skill, the more prayers you unlock. You also get an extra prayer point per level so your buffs last longer. Before ensouled heads were added to the game, the primary way to train your prayer skill was to bury bones; you had regular bones, big bones, monkey bones, dragon bones etc. that would grant you higher amounts of prayer experience when you buried them. Other remains came a bit later.

Unfortunately, burying bones is a very tedious task with a very middling XP reward. The lowest class of bones grants you 4.5 prayer experience, and the highest class - superior dragon bones - only grant 150 XP. There are ways to amplify the payoff, but you're still looking at a maximum of 600 XP per pile of bones.

Ensouled heads can be resurrected at an altar, summoning an astral body to be refought so you can gain prayer and combat experience. The "worst" ensouled head, the goblin one, grants 130 experience - again, the bog-standard bones that just about everything drops only grants you 4.5 XP per pile. The best head - a dragon head - gives you a massive 1,560 prayer XP.

The ensouled chaos druid head nets you 584 prayer experience, just shy of the superior dragon bones.

Superior dragon bones - which I might make a post on in the future, because there was a massive dip in value in 2022 - cost 7,861 gold pieces to buy on the GE at the time of writing. These bones are only dropped by a story-relevant boss named Vorkath which has a minimum combat level of 392 (compared to the player character's maximum combat level of 127).

Ensouled chaos druid heads cost 404 gold pieces, and the mob that drops this item seems to only exist at level 13.

The low value of ensouled chaos druid heads has interested me for a while. In this post, I'm going to go deeper into the value of other ensouled heads and speculate as to why the ensouled chaos druid head is the second cheapest head to buy on the Grand Exchange.

---

The value chart for the ensouled chaos druid head is interesting, in that the peak of its value is when the item was launched on OSRS:

After which it dipped significantly, and stayed mostly in the same ballpark.

You can see that there was a brief boom in 2020, where the price almost hit 1,700 gold pieces:

After which it hit its lowest value of 352 gold pieces per head:

The ensouled chaos druid head is the second cheapest ensouled head you can buy on the GE, compared to the ensouled goblin head which only offers 130 prayer experience. And sure, it's no ensouled dragon head with its 1,560 prayer XP, but the next best option is the ensouled giant head at 650 XP, and that head is almost twice as expensive as the chaos druid head.

I'm starting to believe that the price for this head is so cheap because of the daily volume of ensouled chaos druid heads being sold on the GE.

Like - unicorns are rare and kind of a pain in the ass to farm for heads. According to the wiki at the time of writing, the daily volume of ensouled unicorn heads being sold on the GE is like 170. Ensouled dog heads only drop from two hostile dog mobs ranging between combat level 44 and 63, and the daily volume of that item is 117.

The daily volume of ensouled chaos druid heads - again, the DAILY volume - is just shy of 6,000:

So case closed, right?

Well, maybe not.

Ensouled chaos druid heads grant 584 prayer experience when you resurrect them at the Dark Altar in Arceuus. They're preceded by ensouled dog heads which grant 520 prayer XP when resurrected and defeated, and they're succeeded by ensouled giant heads which grant 650 prayer XP when defeated.

Over 26,000 ensouled giant heads go through the Grand Exchange every day, and the price is almost double what ensouled chaos druid heads are worth:

And I think I might have an answer for why the figures are the way they are.

Chaos druids are kind of common. There are five or six outposts of them in the entire game, and they're only ever at combat level 13, so they're easy enough to mow down and farm heads. Low combat level, easy to farm, common enough mob compared to dogs and unicorns. I'd imagine they're also a lower level slayer task.

Giants are fucking EVERYWHERE.

You've got hill giants, moss giants, ice giants, fire giants and cyclopes. They're a common slayer task, and they're often a reasonable option to train your combat skills and farm key drops to take on Obor and Bryophyta.

Giant heads might be the single most common ensouled head you can get in the game. And because of that and the slightly superior XP gain, giant heads are always moving through the GE and are always fairly valuable.

In my opinion, chaos druid heads are fairly common compared to its contemporaries, so it faces a sort of mundanity that keeps the value low and the daily volume high. Giant heads are plentiful and popular, so the value remains much higher than that of the ensouled chaos druid head despite not being all that different. Chaos druid heads are mundane, like toilet paper. Giant heads are popular, like McDonalds.

Other heads that grant less XP are more valuable than the chaos druid head only due to not being as common of a drop, presumably due to their mobs not being as common in the game world or not being a popular mob to grind. Like who's out there grinding scorpion mobs? They barely drop anything. Low daily volume, low item reserves, higher price. You can say the same for pretty much every mob with an ensouled head prior to the chaos druids, except for the common goblin.

I like ensouled giant heads well enough, but ever since learning about the ensouled chaos druid head I've come to feel kind of sorry for it. It's not much worse than the ensouled giant head, but it's not nearly as popular and it's extremely cheap on the Grand Exchange. I love an underdog, and honestly using chaos druid heads to train your prayer is probably the best coin-to-XP value due to its reduced value compared to giant heads.

So the next time you're considering training your prayer level, consider the humble ensouled chaos druid head. They're not quite as good as giant heads, but you're not missing out on much and you're getting a fantastic bargain.

[dnalkaline]

Warning for like really heavy talk I don't expect anyone to read this but I had to type the brain worms out and post them so I can reflect on this later after I have a nap. Might delete later.

I'm on temazepam and it makes me ramble so this is kinda long.

Well.

The other day I was like "man I'm sick of this shit if there's some higher power out there can you send me a sign that things are gonna be alright and tell me what to do to improve my life and be happy" and then meditated and fell asleep. In my dream I had a very realistic depiction/instruction of how to kill myself by walking into the woods and ODing on my medicine.

And I'm like. Ok. Maybe that's just coincidence.

So today I asked "ok what should I do that would make me happy in life" and drew lenormand cards. I got the Scythe and the Boat which implies an abrupt and violent end to a painful journey. When I drew the cards I got bad vibes from them so now I'm like. Alright. I think maybe something wants me dead.

Then I was like "Can I get a clarifier on what this means" and I drew the 9 of swords which is. About mental anguish, nightmares, etc etc. Which just kinda brings us back to the first point.

Assuming it's not all just coincidence or w.e and higher powers are Real this just feels like an absolute fucking "kick me when I'm down" moment. Even some of my spirit guides are like "... Man I'm sorry but I don't really know how to help you."

I did some other meditation rituals later to try and ask other entities for advice. The demons Bune and Andras had some more encouraging words about hanging in there and it doesn't Matter what other people think because I am still capable of great things, I just haven't figured it out yet. But like.

Man idk. I'm sick of fighting so hard and it feels like life isn't worth living. I've been clinically depressed since I was 16 and not much has changed to be honest. I understand that in theory, things can get better, but the problem is I'm so tired that I don't think the payoff is worth it. It feels like I'm essentially working for pennies and scraps.

People keep saying I'm just being pessimistic and that things Always get better, but I'm a little resentful because all of those people clearly have things that I don't or can't have (loving spouse, good family relations, a career, no degenerative disease, etc). I especially feel mad because part of the reason the endo is trying to block my organs and kill me is that people didn't believe I was having so much pain it occasionally leaves me bedbound. People would just tell me to exercise more which... made it worse.

And it's not that I have nothing- I have a lot of good internet friends. But that can only really take you so far, and most of them are also struggling and can't help much. I need some sort of safety social net and assisted living.

The spirits/demons I work with on a personal level that I've talked to about this said that they don't want me to kill myself, and that it's really important for my development (I believe in reincarnation and all that jazz) that I don't do this. I also need to help my family pay the mortgage and me dying would be a huge inconvenience, which is the main thing that has been stopping me lately.

I know life is supposed to be hard somewhat but like... I kinda just don't want to deal with it. I don't want to exist. I find it really hard to genuinely find joy in things and as time goes on, even with medications, things don't improve because I'm in perpetual poverty and dealing with an issue that's kinda similar to cancer but not technically cancer. (Along with brain damage that inhibits some of my ability to find joy in things) I'm in pain every day both physically and emotionally. My entire body hurts right now and there's nothing people can really do about it. I'm not going to live to retirement age so like... I don't know? What do I even do about this.

Whenever I get something that seems like it's a huge step in the right direction (like the surgery thing), life somehow finds a way to take it away from me. I was supposed to inherit a house and a car by now which would have been HUGE but things got changed around so now I get nothing.

Even if I do get the surgery there's a chance that it won't help much... Then I'd just feel like a waste of space and I'd feel guilty about the wasted money.

It's not fair. I'm basically middle aged for someone with my comorbid diseases/disabilities and it sucks because the majority of my life has just been a depression pit. I can't catch a break, and when I do, I'm so traumatized it's hard for me to relax and actually live in the moment without drugs.

I want to fix my life but I also... don't. I'm sick of playing this stupid "game". I'm tired of working my ass off only to get backstabbed by most people or have random accidents happen that set me back to square one. I know nobody is going to come and save me. And that I have to save myself. But I'm tired and I don't want to. I feel like people don't get it. On the last 12 years there has not been a single month in which I had gone without trying to think about how to kill myself without inconveniencing everyone. Part of the reason I'm still here is I have a lot of work to do before then.

Will I actually go through with it? Probably not, in all honesty. Even though I want to stop existing, I'm too scared to die.

Idk. It just sucks that most treatments for depression can't work on me due to my sensitive nerve issues or serotonin sensitivity. The only thing that might work are some experimental treatments that aren't covered by insurance anyway so I'd likely have to crowdfund or something. But I've tried crowdfunding before for the SGB injections and basically I got a lot of messages calling me a lazy piece of shit and I just need to "work harder" and I don't deserve handouts for needing PTSD treatment, so I just took it down. I don't have a lot of faith in general about that. Every time I make a dono post I get like... 5$ from it. I also stopped trying because I feel super guilty asking for money, especially since most of my friends have other shit they need to do as well.

Idk. I'm just tired of pretending to be happy so I don't worry people. If anyone reaches out to want to talk about this that's Fine but like. Please understand I am not in the mood for toxic positivity. It just makes me angrier and I feel like not a lot of people actually fully understand my situation and how this affects me. I don't really expect anyone to have anyhting profound to say, either.

I wish my parents never had me. They're both kinda old and going senile so I have to help take care of them on top of taking care of my severely disabled ass. Even if some things are improving, there's just a lot going on and I wish I could just pop out of existence like I was never real in the first place.

There's other stuff I'm thinking about but this is already getting super long so I'm cutting it here

[taisiakat]

Business Focus for the week May 1st - 5th

Focus: Business/Career/Professional/Work related

Sky Bridge(47) & In The Hand (31)

Music: Unleash Your Creativity | Remove Blockages & Achieve Your Goals

Possibilities for Union, what needs to be connected or disconnect. Welcome to the next major upgrade and growth.

The Universe has brought you to the next level – a base camp. Take a moment (several actually) and stop, catch your breath and survey all that you have accomplished, created, overcame, these last few years of business.

It’s time to take a few hours(days maybe) to just get your mind aligned with the next level, upward climb to prepare, re-organize, maybe even re-pack some of the items(skills) you have brought along so far to get you to this point in the path.

Yes, the journey is going upward, to a much higher, more grander –as-yet-undreamt-of-possibilities. It will take new courage, a greater level of determination, and most importantly, a stronger connection with the Universe, who will be your Guide, partner, mentor, ally, support net as you take the quantum leap onto the Sky Bridge and navigate upward the climb.

You are ready.

You are strong.

It’s important to daily remember and acknowledge that the Universe is a vital partner in your business/professional career. Sit down at the beginning of each business day, have a cup of coffee/tea with the Universe and talk about these goals, intents for the day, so the Universe can work on the details, help forge new connections and provide you the strong support that partners do.

Heartfelt, Heart driven – You are in good hands with the Universe.

It’s Beltane in the Northern Hemisphere – Here’s a Beltane Business Blessing

Take a dollar bill (of any amount) roll it up. With colorful ribbon, wrap the bill at least three times and then gently tie a bow knot.

Place the wrapped dollar upon your Business Altar. Sit and meditate, asking the Universe as your partner in Business to help bring more creativity, connections, and abundance into your professional space. Speak out loud your goals, intents, strategies that you would to have guidance, clarity, support and most of all suggestions to help achieve these.

===============================

Please feel free to ask any questions, share your thoughts, let me know how I can assist you.

@}}>`~~~~~~~~~~~

Experience, observe, be curious and enjoy!

The Last Chance Crone - helping folks with their shit when other methods fail

[blackburb]

grinding nightfalls in d2 for points to finish a quest is giving me d1 y1 flashbacks to when we only had 4 strikes on xbox and every time i load into arms dealer i softly tell myself whether we like it or not, we've stepped into a war with the cabal on mars

[mimicofmodes]

“The Ladies Waldegrave” by Joshua Reynolds, 1780 (NGS NG2171)

I’ve complained before about two very big pet peeves of mine - corset stuff and Regency women being dressed in 1770s-1780s clothes - but one that may dwarf them because of how frequently it comes up in historical and fantasy fiction is the oppression of embroidery.

That’s probably putting it a bit too strongly. It’s more like ... the annoyance of embroidery. Every character worth reading about knows instinctively that sewing is a) boring, b) difficult, c) mindless, and d) pointless. The author doesn’t have to say anything more than “Belinda threw down her needlework and looked out the window, sighing,” to signal that this is an independent woman whose values align with the modern reader, who’s probably not really understood by her mother or mother figure, and who probably will find an extraordinary man to “match” her rather than settling for someone ordinary. To look at an example from fantasy, GRRM uses embroidery in the very beginning of A Game of Thrones to show that the Stark sister who dislikes it is sympathetic and interesting, while the Stark sister who is competent at it is boring and conventional and obviously not deserving of a PoV (until later books, when her attention gets turned to higher matters); further into the book, of course, the pro-needlework sister proves to be weak-willed and naïve.

Rozsika Parker, in the groundbreaking 1996 work The Subversive Stitch, noted that “embroidery has become indelibly associated with stereotypes of femininity,” which is the core of the issue. "Instead embroidery and a stereotype of femininity have become collapsed into one another, characterised as mindless, decorative and delicate; like the icing on the cake, good to look at, adding taste and status, but devoid of significant content.” 

Parker also points out that the stereotype isn’t just one that was invented in the present day by feminists who hated the idea of being forced to do a certain craft. “The association between women and embroidery, craft and femininity, has meant that writers concerned with the status of women have often turned their attention towards this tangled, puzzling relationship. Feminists who have scorned embroidery tend to blame it for whatever constraint on women's lives they are committed to combat. Thus, for example, eighteenth-century critical commentators held embroidery responsible for the ill health which was claimed as evidence of women's natural weakness and inferiority.”

There are two basic problems I have with the trope, beyond the issue of it being incredibly cliché:

First: needlework was not just busywork

A big part of what drives the stereotype is the impression that what women were embroidering was either a sampler:

sampler embroidered by Jane Wilson, 14, in 1791 (MMA 2010.47)

or a picture:

unfinished embroidery of David and Abigail, British, 1640s-50s (MMA 64.101.1325)

That is, something meant to hang on the wall for no real purpose.

These are forms of schoolwork, basically. Samplers were made by young girls up to their early teens, and needlework pictures were usually something done while at school or under a governess as a showpiece of what was being learned - not just the stitching itself, but also often watercolors (which could be worked into the design), artistic sensibility, and the literature, history, or art that might be alluded to. And many needlework pictures made in schools were also done as mourning pieces, sometimes blank, for future use, and sometimes to commemorate a recent death in the family. A lot of them are awkward, clearly just done to pass the class, but others are really artwork.

Many schools for middle- and upper-class girls taught the making of these objects (and other “ornamental” subjects) alongside a more rigorous curriculum - geography, Latin, chemistry, etc. At some, sewing was also always accompanied by serious reading and discussion. (And it would often be done while someone read aloud or made conversation later in life, too.)

Once done with their education, women generally didn’t bother with purely decorative work. Some things that fabric could be embroidered for included:

Jackets 

Bed coverings and bedcurtains

Collars and undersleeves 

Pelerines 

Neck handkerchiefs and sleeve ruffles 

Screens

Upholstery

Handkerchiefs

Purses, wallets, and reticules

Boxes

Book covers

Plus other articles of clothing like waistcoats, caps, slippers, gown hems, chemises, etc. Women’s magazines of the nineteenth century often gave patterns and alphabets for personal use.

(Not to mention late nineteenth century female artists who worked in embroidery, but that’s something else.)

You could purchase all of these pre-embroidered, but many, many women chose to do it themselves. There are a number of reasons why: maybe they wanted something to do, maybe they felt like they should be doing needlework for moral/gender reasons, maybe they couldn’t afford to buy anything - and maybe they enjoyed it or wanted to give something they made to a person they loved. That firescreen above was embroidered by Marie Antoinette, someone who had any number of other activities to choose from. It’s no different than people today who like to knit their own hats and gloves or bake their own bread, except that it was way more mainstream.

embroidery patterns from Ackermann’s Repository in 1827 - they could be used on dresses, collars, handkerchiefs, etc.

Second: needlework wasn’t the only “useless” thing women were expected to do

Ignoring the bulk of point one for now and the value of embroidery - I mentioned “ornamental subjects” above. As many people know, young women of the upper and middle classes were expected to be “accomplished” in order to be seen as marriageable. This could include skills like embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, playing the piano (as well as other instruments, like the harp or the mandolin), speaking French (if not also Italian and/or German), as well as broader knowledge and abilities like being well-versed in music, literature, and poetry, dancing and walking gracefully, writing good letters in an elegant hand, and being able to read out loud expressively and smoothly.

This wasn’t a checklist. As the famous discussion in Pride and Prejudice shows, individuals could have different views on what actually made a woman accomplished:

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Mr. Bingley feels that a woman is accomplished if she has the ability to do a number of different arts and crafts. Miss Bingley feels (or says she feels) that it goes beyond specific skills and into branches of artistic attainment, plus broader personal qualities that could be imparted by well-bred governesses or mothers. And Mr. Darcy, of course, agrees with that but adds an academic angle as well.

But what ties all of these accomplishments together is their lack of value on the labor market. A woman could earn a living with any one accomplishment, if she worked hard enough at it to become a professional, but young ladies weren’t supposed to be professional-level good because they by definition weren’t going to earn a living. All together, they trained a woman for the social and domestic role of a married woman of the upper middle or upper class, or, if she couldn’t get married, a governess or teacher who would share her accomplishments with the next generation.

(To be fair, almost none of the trappings of an upper-middle/upper class male education had anything to do with the kind of career training that college frequently is today, either. Men were educated to know the cultural touchpoints of their class and fit in with their peers.)

There are reasons that an individual person/character might specifically object to embroidery, but it was far from the only “useless” thing that an unconventional heroine would be required to do against her inclination by her conventional mother/grandmother/aunt/chaperone. Embroidery stands out to modern audiences because most of the other accomplishments are now valued as gender-neutral arts and skills.

“The Embroidery Frame”, by Mathilde Weil, ca. 1900 (LOC 98501309)

So, some thoughts for writers of historical fiction (or fantasy that’s supposed to be just like the 19th/18th/17th/etc century):

- If your heroine doesn’t like embroidery, she probably doesn’t like a number of other things she’s expected to do. Don’t pull out embroidery as either more expected or more onerous than them. Does she hate to sit still? I’d imagine she also dislikes drawing and practicing the piano. Would she prefer to do academic subjects? She probably also resents learning French instead of Latin, and music and dancing. Does she hate enforced femininity? Then she’d most likely have a problem with all of the accomplishments.

- If your heroine just and specifically doesn’t like embroidery, try to show in the narrative that that’s not because it’s objectively bad, and only able to be liked by the boring. Have another sympathetic character do it while talking to the heroine. Note that the hero carries a flame-stitched wallet that’s his sister’s work. Emphasize the heroine’s emotional connection to her deceased or absent mother through her affection for clothing or upholstery that her mother embroidered - or through a mourning picture commemorating her. There are all kinds of things you can do to show that it’s a personal preference rather than a stupid craft that doesn’t take talent and skill!

mourning picture for Daniel Goodman, probably embroidered by a Miss Goodman, 1803 (MMA 56.66)

[leiascully]

Fic: Citius, Altius, Fortius (MSR, T)

This ficlet is dedicated to the commercial about the adopted Paralympian that makes me sniffly every time.  I don’t even know what they’re advertising.  All credit to AAVE for the “hip” slang Mulder uses and basically all cutting-edge words in American English.

The Olympic theme was more of a suggestion than a fanfare, but Scully still leaned forward and turned the volume down a few more notches.  She could feel Mulder giving her that crinkly-eyed smile.  She knew the remote worked just fine over the distance between the tv and the couch, but it felt like it worked better when she leaned.  It was like Jackson and his video games, a sympathetic movement.

“I don’t want to wake Gracie,” she said.

“Good plan,” Mulder said, and put his arm comfortably around her shoulders as she leaned back.  Jackson snorted and looked away, but peeked back at them to check in.  Scully was glad she was there for him, the Ginger from his journals, she and Mulder solid presences in his life, bracketed by the ghosts of his adoptive parents.

“I didn’t think you two would buy into all this jingoistic shit,” Jackson said.

“We are still employed by the United States federal government,” Scully pointed out.

“They’re basically our coworkers when it comes to repping the flag,” Mulder said laconically.  “Gotta respect the hustle.  Besides, compared to a lot of national anthems, ours kinda slaps.”

Jackson winced, predictably, at Mulder’s attempt to use slang.  Scully sensed Mulder mentally adding a few tallies to his side of the imaginary scoreboard.  It was all so sweetly familiar, a song she hummed in her dreams.

“Still,” Jackson said.  “It’s all so fuckin’ rah-rah America.  I thought you knew better.  Like you said, you work for the government.  You know all the shit they pull.”

“For two weeks every two years, I support the finest athletes that wealth, health, grueling training, and the opportunities inherent in living in the country possessing the world’s largest economy can produce,” Mulder said, a trace of irony audible in his voice.  “And also anyone competing against Russia.”

“It’s a distraction from all the shitty things happening in the world,” Jackson said.

“It’s a damn good one,” Mulder countered.  “At least they’re not supersoldiers.”

“Some of them might be,” Jackson grumbled.

“Those abs,” Mulder said, sounding a little mournful.  He patted his stomach.  “I should have gone for the upgrade when I had the chance.”

“When I was little,” Scully said slowly, “my mother would tell me that the prowess of Olympic athletes was proof that God loved us.  She said that their bodies were miracles.  I don’t think about it exactly the same way now, but there is something almost holy about that quest to go farther and faster than anyone else ever has.  In a sense, we fly without wings.  We climb higher than we thought we could.  We run faster and farther than early humans imagined.  We lift heavier burdens.  We test our nerve and our resolve in feats of endurance.  We subject our bodies to almost-unbearable forces and conditions.  We test the laws of physics, twisting in the air or gliding over the ice.  For a moment, we defy expectation, gravity, and in a sense, mortality.  The athletes of the Olympics show us the potential of the human body and the human spirit in a way that our daily lives don’t, and we feel like we are there with them as we perch on the edges of our seats, our bodies echoing their movements as if we could lend them our strength.  It’s possible that sometimes a distraction is a welcome respite.  For a short time, the world is focused on something other than war.  Many of the results may be predictable, but astonishing things happen and we learn to expect the unexpected.  Athletes from nations and peoples that have been overlooked and exploited dazzle us.  A runner falls and someone pulls them up.  Someone may shatter their leg and because of that tragedy, someone else realizes their lifelong dream.  The Olympics are a microcosm of our own attempts to strive for perfection, a supercondensed spectacle that reminds us of all our potential.  In pitting us against the people of other nations, the Olympics somehow unite us in the pursuit of a singular goal, reached by various paths: a gold medal, and the accolades of an awestruck world.”

“I love it when you give a dissertation on everyday life,” Mulder murmured, kissing under her ear.

“A spectacle that displaces the people who are already the most fucked-over,” Jackson said, but there was a little less disdain in his words.  “A profit machine for corporations and a propaganda outlet for governments.  It’s a slippery slope from athletic superiority to eugenics.  Only the strong survive.”

“George Orwell said that athletic competitions were essentially a proxy for war games,” Mulder told her.  She craned her head to look at him.

“I thought you liked the Olympics.”

“I do,” he said, “but Jack has a point.”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Jackson said.

“I wasn’t saying the Olympics are perfect,” Scully argued.  “Just that they could be perceived as creating a net good.”

The broadcast cut to commercial, sentimental strings music welling quietly from the speakers.  Mulder looked away, rubbing at his eyes.  Jackson chuckled.

“It’s that easy, huh?” he said.  “All they need to get into your psyche is footage of someone winning something and some sad music, maybe a Morgan Freeman voiceover.”

“Wait until you get old,” Mulder said.  “Then you’ll be welling up at every Visa commercial.  These ads are designed by experts in psychological warfare.  The Olympic mindgames.”

“They remind us of you,” Scully told Jackson.  “You weren’t supposed to exist.  You weren’t supposed to survive.  And here you are, capable of things your father and I could never have dreamed of.”

“Whatever,” Jackson muttered, looking away and definitely not dabbing his face on the shoulder of his t-shirt.

Scully settled back into the couch.  Grace would be waking up soon - she wasn’t an Olympic-level napper - but until then, she had a moment to enjoy the half-scripted pageantry of the Games, savoring the bittersweet combination of impossible victories and unpredictable defeats.  It wasn’t unlike her own life, in a way: she’d accomplished things she’d never imagined, uncovered truths too painful to endure, run up against her own limits over and over and overcome them all to be sitting here, in her comfortable home, with her stalwart partner, dragged back from the dead, and their miraculous children.  The glint in Jackson’s eyes as he argued with Mulder was more precious to her than any medal; the sound of Grace’s sleepy sighs stirred her heart more than any anthem.  She stood atop the podium of her destiny.

She leaned her head on Mulder’s shoulder and watched the marathon swimmers cut through the water, one stroke after another, keeping themselves afloat for hours. She understood their exhaustion.  She understood their triumph.

“I like the dressage,” Jackson said unexpectedly.  “It looks like mind control if you do it right.  I’m not, like, asking for a pony.  I just think it’s cool.”

“I knew we could find some common ground,” Mulder said.  “What’s your opinion on medals for horses?”

“Horse-sized medals,” Jackson said immediately.  “Bankrupt the IOC.”

“That’s your son,” Scully told him.

“No denying it,” Mulder said in a smug voice.  The broadcast changed to gymnastics and they all sat forward, watching in awed silence, as history was made.

[novelconcepts]

Prompt: Jamie is the one who finds Dani locked in the closet. Dani is still having a panic attack and Jamie helps her.

Time slips away when you're out of your head, Dani has found. It moves so much faster--so much slower--so much less correctly with blood pumping at a dizzying rate. With black spots marring her vision. With her breath caught, tangled in a fisherman's net of sharp inhale, hold, hold, bare exhale, she can't think. There are tears dewed on her eyelashes, and fingers folded into shaking fists, and she is little more than the repetition of her own weight meeting the door--again--again--again--

It's open, she realizes, and wonders how long it has been open. Not long, certainly. Not with how forcefully she's been hurling herself against unyielding lumber. Certainly, she would have--

Well. Tumbled out as she is now, a horrible muddling of limbs and purple sweater and mascara scraped down her cheeks. The breath she has been clawing for still won't quite come, not even with the door hanging open and the soft light of Flora's bedroom pouring inside.

Not even with strong hands catching her by the shoulders, a voice speaking low and smooth into the silence left in the wake of her screams.

"Hey. Hey, now. Hey, you're out, you're all good."

She blinks once. Twice. The world as painted by hysteria is neatly bisected, right down the middle. On one side: the mirror, his solemn face, the horror of being locked in with him. On the other: butterflies on the walls, a dollhouse in the corner, cool air rushing against her flushed skin.

Dark curls. Bright eyes. The gardener from lunch, the one with whom Dani still hasn't held a real conversation.

Jamie.

"What," she tries to say--what are you doing here, you left hours ago, you shouldn't be here--and can't get any further. What, echoing between them, strangled on the end of a sharp inhalation that refuses to fill her up. Her throat is closing. There is a boulder lodged against her windpipe, another sinking down against her chest. She is, she realizes, folding her hands together so hard, her knuckles stand stark against the front of Jamie's overalls.

"Kids," Jamie says--a one-word question. The panic swells higher as Dani realizes she does not know. They were there, turning the key. They were shouting through the door. And then...then...

"Don't know," she wheezes. "Don't know--I--"

Jamie grits her teeth. Her eyes dart back toward the door, her body still tilted entirely toward Dani. "You all right if I...?"

Dani nods, a rapid bird-flutter of a gesture that sends her sour stomach heaving. She gropes backward for Flora's bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress. Jamie watches her with an expression she can't quite read, her jaw lifted, her shoulders set.

"Back in a sec. Promise."

Dani shuts her eyes, scrounging for breath, listening to the steady thud of boots striding out of the room. Her fingers sink into Flora’s bedspread, her elbows pressed to her knees as she struggles to keep from folding completely in half. Who will that help? She's out. She’s out, and there’s plenty of air out here, and she’s--

Hands, gently brushing her arms. She peels her eyes open, hating how swollen they already feel, hating that faint whistle at the back of her throat that says her lungs still aren’t quite doing their job. Jamie is kneeling on the floor, looking at her with absolutely none of the tight unease from lunch. Her expression is surprisingly warm, though creased with concern, and her hands do not fall away from Dani’s arms. 

“Found ‘em,” she says. “They’re fine. What happened?”

Dani draws as deep a breath as she can manage, unseeing eyes rooted to the front of Jamie’s shirt beneath her scuffed overalls. The neat rectangle of navy cotton swells out--in--out with Jamie’s entirely-stable breaths. She finds herself blankly trying to mimic the beats, relieved and embarrassed in equal measure when Jamie seems to realize what’s happening and begins breathing with intent. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Again, again, until Dani’s heart finally catches up with her brain. 

“Better?” Jamie asks. Dani, uncertain how much time has slipped away with this woman holding her by the elbows, setting a pace for slow, even breaths, nods. “Right. Good. Now: what happened?”

A flash of movement tugs at her attention, pulling her eyes to a point over Jamie’s shoulder. Miles and Flora, leaning against the doorframe, their faces ashen. She swallows hard. 

“We’re sorry,” Flora says quickly.

“It got stuck,” Miles adds. There is a furtive look to his eyes that says even he does not expect her to believe this. Dani swallows again.

“Bed.”

There are more words in her--big, angry, panic-throttled words--but she wouldn’t let them fly even if Jamie weren’t here. That isn’t how you deal with kids. That isn't how you deal with traumatized orphans. 

Not even when they pull stunts like this. 

“Honest,” Miles starts to say. She closes her eyes, scrubs her hands over her face. Her palms are hot, her newly-caught breath stuffy. She wants to stay in the cupped enclosure of her own hands forever. 

Flora makes a tiny hiccuping noise, the precursor to tears. Jamie’s hand flexes around her arm. Dani bites her tongue until the throb of pain cuts through the memory of his glasses, his glasses in the mirror, I was in there with him alone.

“We,” she says in as level a voice she can muster, “will talk about this in the morning.”

Jamie is looking at her, she realizes. Jamie, leaning back into a crouch, is watching her with the wary concern of one waiting to see if a rabbit will escape a snare unscathed. Dani gives her a very small nod--I’m okay--and she pushes to her feet, claps her hands, turns on her heel.

“Right. You heard her. Bed.”

Dani removes herself from Flora’s bed, still shaking even as she tucks the tiny girl under the covers. Jamie stands back, almost to the door, watching the proceedings as if half-believing she’ll have to take over at some point. 

No, thinks Dani with hot embarrassment. This is her job, not Jamie’s. Jamie even being here is more than her job description. Even still floundering at the end of a panic attack, Dani can do this much.

“I really am sorry,” Miles mumbles, blankets pulled up to his chin. Dani searches his face. Not a single beat of a lie there now; he looks perfectly miserable, his cheeks bright with shame. She exhales, hoping her voice will hold. 

It does. Barely. “Get some sleep. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”

He rolls over, face mashed against the pillow. Dani drags in an unsteady breath, holds it as she closes in on the door, the light switch, the hallway. 

“All right?” Jamie asks again when the doors have been closed and the children tucked away. Dani presses her face to her hands, groaning. 

“Yeah. Yes. I’m sorry, that was--”

“Sorry?” Jamie repeats blankly. “What’ve you got to be sorry about? Didn’t lock yourself in there, I’d wager.”

No. No, she hadn’t. And tomorrow, she’ll have to pull herself together better than this--locate the mask of the Polished Au Pair, who is good with even the most difficult of children, who doesn’t scream herself hoarse and bruise up her shoulder trying to get away from memories held behind glass--

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Her voice is brittle, the words edged. Jamie only looks at her steadily, hands in her pockets, not taking so much as a step back. 

“Left my flat key. Ring broke this afternoon--must’ve skidded under something out in the greenhouse. I was going to check when I heard the, ah. The...” She trails off, looking almost embarrassed for the first time--embarrassed not for herself, but for Dani, who had indeed been scraping her throat raw with shrieks. Dani grits her teeth. 

“I have a--”

She’s not sure what she’s going to say next; a condition? A phobia? The absolutely horrific poor fortune to be haunted by her ex-fiance in every reflective surface? Jamie holds up a hand. 

“Doesn’t matter,” she says. “Not unless you want to talk it over. Do you?”

Dani shakes her head. Truth be told, she’s wrung out--her head is pounding, her hands numb from being squeezed into such uncompromising fists. Jamie looks unsurprised. 

“Then it’s your own,” she says easily. “You share it on your time. Christ, Poppins, think it’s the first time kids have reduced a grown woman to tears?”

There’s plenty to unpack here--Jamie’s kindness, in letting it slide; Jamie’s careless phrasing, as though she expects minor doses of aggression from perfectly well-mannered children every day; Jamie’s expression, even, holding firm on Dani as though she’s the only real thing in this house. Dani finds herself landing on something else entirely.

“Is that...mud?”

There are, she sees now, footprints. Wrapping down the hall, leading down the staircase, all the way to the front door. She frowns, following them at a slow clip, her legs still trembling. Jamie follows. 

“Wasn’t me,” she says, as if Dani holds accusations on her tongue. “Hannah says this happens sometimes. Maybe one of the beasts taking the piss?”

“Maybe.” The prints are larger than either child could make on their own, Dani thinks with a plummeting sense of alarm. Large, and staggered, and odd. Still. Kids. Jamie’s probably right--it’s likely just a prank. A silly trick to test the new au pair’s mettle. 

She turns her head, surprised to find Jamie still looking at her. “I’m sorry. Did you need help finding your key?”

Jamie shrugs. “Nah. I know the way. And if it’s not where I figure, I’ll just post up on the couch for the night. Hannah won’t mind.”

Dani smiles faintly. “There are so many bedrooms, I’m sure you could--”

Jamie flaps a hand. “Don’t like sleeping in beds that don’t belong to me. Couch’ll suit me fine. Anyway, maybe I won’t need it. Night might have a little good luck left in it yet.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to...” God, she’s so tired. What is this impulse to play hostess, even with her bones twisted to exhaustion and a thunderstorm ringing in her head? “I mean, you could...stay. I could get you a drink?”

Jamie smiles. It’s the first true smile Dani’s seen on her lips since flicking water on the kids at lunch, and it doesn’t just light up her face--it revolutionizes her entire body. All at once, Dani remembers how she’d felt watching this woman stroll into the kitchen this afternoon: like a song she’s been humming under her breath for a lifetime. 

Heat twists up her neck. She clears her throat. 

“I think,” Jamie says gently, “I should let you get to bed. Tomorrow, maybe. If you’re up to it.”

She leaves the rest of the offer unspoken--tomorrow, maybe you can tell me what really happened--and Dani understands, somehow, that if it never comes up again, Jamie won’t mind. Jamie doesn’t seem the sort of woman who is rocked by much.

“Thank you,” she says, walking to the front door, leaning awkwardly against the enormous slab of wood as Jamie steps outside. “For--anyway. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Jamie says, and though this woman had frowned at her this afternoon, wariness cutting grooves through her dirt-smudged face, she is nothing but warm now. Warm and more than a little bit beautiful, with moonlight scudding off her hair. 

It’s been too long a night for that, Dani warns herself. Too long a life for that, probably. Certainly nothing she’s prepared to deal with right now. 

“One more thing,” she adds, unable to help herself, even as Jamie crunches over gravel with hands swinging loosely at her sides. Jamie doesn’t quite stop, only turns at the waist with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. Dani smiles weakly.

“Poppins?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, and Dani is so tired. So tired, she must be imagining the light tinge of pink around the woman’s cheeks. “You know. Julie Andrews.”

“Sure,” says Dani, who can’t think of a single actress she less embodies in this moment. “Right. Of course.”

She can’t help grinning a little, falling into bed a few minutes later--still in sweat-damp clothes, her boots barely kicked to the floor--with the scorching awareness that the surly gardener has just given her a nickname. Possibly because she doesn’t actually know Dani’s real name, sure--but a nickname, all the same. A nickname, and a warm smile, and the impression of long fingers wrapped gently around her arm. 

Tomorrow, she’ll handle the kids. Put her foot down. They need to know, right off the bat, that she won’t stand for this sort of thing. She needs to know it, to prove to herself she can still do this, just as she’d insisted to Henry Wingrave. Tomorrow, she’ll talk to them the right way--steady, calm, no accusation in her tone--and give them a suitable punishment. 

Tomorrow. 

Tonight, Jamie’s shining eyes, slouched shoulders, accent curled around Poppins almost let her forget the horror of being locked in with a ghost.

[ddarker-dreams]

Pandora’s Box. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Medicine mention, descriptions of anxiety, and implied minor character death. Word count: 2.7k.

A simple plan is the best kind to have. 

The less variables at play, the higher your rates of success are. You’ve anticipated some margin of error, a safety net of sorts, to be used if necessary. Everything within your realm of influence has been taken into account. Your friend in a car meeting you at a dead spot, a train ticket purchased with a prepaid visa card on a VPN, and a few precious pieces of jewelry to be pawned off at a later time. Scraping these assets together is a commendable feat, having to skulk around to make it this far.

Nothing feels out of the ordinary, you think. Your preparations are almost complete. All that’s left is to wait to ensure the beast in hiding cannot come for you.

Prayer doesn’t traditionally feel worth the effort -- any god that’d allow you to be subjugated to a hell such as this is no god worth pleading to -- but tonight is different. Tonight you pray to any deity that may spare you some pity, that this plan may succeed without a hitch. The time signals the beginning of the next phase, the most vital aspect. 

Tonight’s soup had an additional ingredient, a generous helping of sleep inducing pills. To avoid suspicion, you partook in the meal as usual, hoping to cancel out the effects later by ingesting a gratuitous amount of energy drinks. It served the original purpose of fending off fatigue, but not without presenting a unique set of problems of its own. The caffeine has served to heighten your anxiety, upping what was already a nerve-wracking experience to a new level. 

Your guts feeling like they’re rearranging themselves, your body not capable of forgoing fidgeting a single moment. No longer can you tell if it’s nausea, stomach pain, or hyperventilation. Maybe it’s everything at once. All you know is that you’ve never had your body working against you more than now. Every nerve is frayed, your senses on high alert to any shadow or noise.

Deep breaths no longer bring you reprieve. Each raggedy breath you manage to squeeze out is an accomplishment, overshadowed by the fear that he might hear you. How irrational a thought, that Chrollo would be capable of picking up on the differences in your breathing from afar. It doesn’t matter how illogical the worry may be. With Chrollo, you’ve learned that nothing is impossible. To expect the unexpected has been the mantra of your mind these past few months. 

Just a bit longer... I need to know he’s asleep for sure. Or else it’s over.

Your foot taps against the ground in a frantic rhythm, ears ringing like funeral tolls. The last time you dared peak into your shared room with Chrollo, he was supposedly fast asleep, out like a light. What should’ve been a cause for victory brought nothing but a fresh wave of dread. A guessing game ensues. Trying to decipher his body language from earlier for hints only serves to make you feel worse. You’ve been so cautious, walking on sheets of thin ice at every move. Chrollo hadn’t acted out of the ordinary to your knowledge. Not that he has a way of acting ‘ordinary’ anyways, your limited understanding of his person having to suffice. 

Should everything be going according to your design, your friend will be in position to pick you up. There’s no more stalling, the point of return ahead of you.

It’s time.

You do a final check over your mental checklist. Your backpack is stocked with the necessities: toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a filtered hydro flask, non perishable foods and your train ticket. To any onlooker it might look like you’re going hiking. Sporting worn sneakers, loose-fitting clothes, and having your hair pulled away from your face. This is really it. The culmination of sneaking around behind Chrollo’s back for months, unfolding before your very eyes. Everything is falling into place as it’s meant to.

You walk to the door. 

Each step you take is quiet as can be. Every shuffle of clothes, or the slightest of creaks from the floorboards, causes you to wince and pause. This penthouse has served as your personal circle of hell for months on end, the walls absorbing your cries and screams. You despise this place with every fiber of your being. The antique décor, the ancient texts that lay strewn about, the scent of sandalwood that you find nauseating. 

Ghosts of the past return to haunt you as you walk through different areas. Swirling around your head, they threaten to consume you, chipping away at your resolve. His hypnotic voice resonates in your mind like whispers of the serpent in the garden, tempting you. Weighing you down. Not even your own mind is a safe haven from his speech that disguises itself as flowery, when the reality is far more sinister. Chrollo’s words are constricting vines, lined with thorns, embedding themselves deeper into your flesh the harder you try to pry them out. 

“Don’t you remember how difficult your life was before me?” 

Another step.

“All those people who left you, who took advantage of you?” 

Your hands shake around your small, homemade EMP. It’s made from spare parts you managed to find around the penthouse, clumsily assembled through trial and error. The pulse it emits is next to nothing. Copper coils threaten to fall loose at any second when you raise it to the security system by the door. Holding your breath, you press down on the trigger. The device lets out rapid clicking sounds, the security monitor flickering before going blank. 

“I know you’ll come around.” 

Finally, come the excessive locks on the door. The compressed air you said you needed for cleaning is next up. The can is cool against your trembling fingers, white specs decorating the locks as you spray them over. With some persistence, they come undone, one after the other. Unshackling you from the depths. You open the door that’s mocked you relentlessly for months, withholding your prized freedom. 

“But even in the event that you don’t...” 

The surrounding world is a blur of colors. Your eyes don’t focus on any object for too long, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. It feels as if your stomach is in your throat when the elevator starts its descent. He had you up on the fiftieth floor? 

You fixate on the screen, numbers not flashing by fast enough for your liking.

40. 

20.

5. 

1.

“Well. There are always ways of overcoming inconveniences such as that.” 

It’s an extravagant lobby. Far more luxurious than you could ever have hoped to afford, this building being one of the most exclusive in Yorknew. The person at the front desk calls out and you ignore it. You must look mighty suspicious, not that you care. The priority now is escape. Running out the revolving door, crisp autumn air greets you. You’ve never felt more grateful for the bustling streets of the city. Even at night the city remains awake, making it easier to blend in. No one out here spares you a second glance as you weave in and out of fast paced crowds. 

23rd street. That’s where you’ll meet up with your friend, who will then transport you to the subway. Glancing up at the signposts, you realize you’ll be in for some walking. There’s no letting your guard down. Constantly looking over your shoulder, all you see are the faces of strangers. You’ve never felt so grateful to be a part of a crowd. 

Finally, after walking for what feels like an eternity, you spot your beacon of hope. A clothing store’s bright neon sign, which your friend sits parked in front of. Since these stores are closed this time of day, the crowd that once surrounded you have thinned out, yet you try not to fixate on the lack of cover. Jay walking across the street doesn’t prove to be an issue. The pollution from the city hides the stars behind a layer of smog, streetlamps your lone source of light.

Heart hammering in your chest, you tap on the window of her car with urgency. “Amelia, it’s me. [First].” 

You hear the doors unlock. 

Taking it as a sign she heard you, you waste no time swinging into the passenger seat of the car. Amelia immediately turns the keys, car humming to life. Your chest heaves with exhaustion from the draining events. This is it. The second to last step before you reclaim your freedom. It’s almost like a dream, the light at the end of a long tunnel. Amelia’s appearance is just as you recalled it. Hazel eyes, tan skin, long black hair, and an average build. Your heart leaps at the sight of her.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” your friend confesses in a hushed whisper. “[First], what... what happened? You completely fell off the face of the Earth for months. Then you contact me out of nowhere? What’s going on?” 

It isn’t easy meeting her eyes, so you don’t. “I... I don’t know if it’s safe to talk about it. The less you know, the better.”

She takes a moment to assess you before sighing. “Alright, I can tell this is serious. Just... I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Amelia begins driving without another word. Silence hangs in the air, offering a time to reflect. Your plan, Chrollo, what you’ll do next... it whirls around your head like a vortex. A gut feeling refuses to leave you alone whenever you picture his face. A dreadful thought that this entire escapade was too easy. Is it just your paranoia? It could very well be. Hugging your backpack closer to you for comfort, you’re startled by Amelia suddenly speaking up.

“The subway station, huh,” she reminiscences aloud, eyes flickering from the road to you. “So you’re leaving Yorknew?” 

There’s no way to continue dodging her questions. “... Yeah, I am.” 

“Where are you going?” 

It’s natural she’d have lots of questions. Had the situation been reversed, you’d have plenty of your own. For her wellbeing you don’t want to indulge more than necessary. Lying to someone who is helping you lives a sour taste in your mouth. It’s for her sake, you remind yourself. Having to involve Amelia in this at all was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“I’m going to Zaban City. I have some extended family there.” 

Amelia hums in confirmation to your story. “Your cousin, right?” 

“Right.” 

She stops pressing that particular subject, likely sensing your apprehension. You take advantage of the peaceful atmosphere and close your eyes. The sleeping pills from earlier are starting to grow more prominent. Losing consciousness is the last thing you need right now, but indulging in some much needed rest sounds too inviting. 

“There was something else I was wondering about.” Amelia starts, earning your attention. Looks like sleep will have to wait for later. You yawn, stretching your weary limbs, and wait for her to continue. She smiles, dark eyelashes fluttering shut in deep thought.

“Oh, sweet [First],” she whispers your name in the gentlest of tones, and looks over at you. “Why are you so selfish?” 

You blink, the words not settling in immediately. “What...?” 

She continues without missing a beat. “You used to be so envious of me. Always pretending to play nice, because you were too passive to say how you really felt. How you hated me.” 

“Amelia? What are you talking about? I... I never hated you, what--” 

“Even now you can’t bring yourself to admit the truth,” she sighs. “Not that I’m surprised. You’ve always cared way too much about what people think. Why would now be any different?” 

Her unexpected attack on your character has you shifting in your seat. Every word that leaves her lips is in her voice, yet feels so different than her normal character. Did something happen in the time Chrollo took you away? Anxiety rears its ugly head at the line of questioning. You take a sudden interest in your fingers, playing with them on your lap. 

“I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.” You admit, eyebrows furrowing together. The shift in atmosphere is tangible. What was once a warm reunion under stressful times has corrupted into a frosty confrontation. These insecurities of hers that laid dormant in your heart... why is she bringing this up now? In your most vulnerable hour? Nothing is making sense. These ugly feelings of yours were only ever confided in one person. 

“You knew it’d be a danger to my life to contact me. You knew that, and still you did it all the same. I wonder why that is. Could it be... that you wouldn’t care if I died? If I was tortured for aiding your escape?” 

Your heart drops. This knowledge... how can she know any of this? Amelia used the word escape, clear as day. Is that a coincidence? You look over at the car door, seeing it’s locked. Something’s not right here, you deduce. I don’t know what it is exactly, but something is very wrong...! 

She continues on. “I really do want to know what your justification for this is. Out of everyone you could’ve picked for help, you specifically chose me, knowing the danger it’d bring. Did you think I’d be spared in some sort of miracle?” 

The spare moonlight streaming in illuminates Amelia’s face, highlighting how pale her skin looks. Veins that would normally not have been so prominent have a blue tint, her lips a similar shade. Your eyes drop to the unnaturally large scarf that surrounds her neck. It’s not that cold out yet, why is she wearing something so cumbersome? Reaching out with unsteady hands, you pull the fabric back. Your gut feels like it’s been punched at the sight, eyes widening in horror. 

On the back of her neck is an antenna, with bat wings on the end. 

Shit! Shit, shit, shit-- 

In a frenzy, you stretch forward, searching for the button to unlock the car door. The second you find it, it’s pressed, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. You hear her speaking up again. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from your chest as you jump out the car, grateful it isn’t going too fast. Skin meeting asphalt, you hiss at the pain, rolling onto your side. None of that matters now. How did he do it? He has to be nearby, maybe you can still make it to the station in time. Your head hurts from the impact, legs wobbling like jelly. 

It’s difficult to focus. You grit your teeth, utilizing the remnants of your strength to get to your knees. Why did the caffeine have to wear off so soon...? It was going so well. You finally had your chance, your time to take back your life. To go back to how things were. Struggling to get to your feet, you throw your backpack off, praying the lost weight will help you get up. 

“You never answered my questions,” calls a deeper voice. You gulp back acidic bile as a hand is extended in front of you. “I was hoping you would.” 

Your head hangs down. It’s over. For a transgression such as this, you imagine you’re in for quite the punishment. How funny a thing fate is. Similar to streams of rushing water, there are many twists and turns, leading you down paths you never wanted to go. Fingernails dig into the sensitive flesh of your palms, the pain anchoring your wandering mind to reality. All other parts of your body have lost feeling. Numbness is what you’ve come to know. 

The devil incarnate bends over, taking your tearstained face into his fingers, and lifting it to meet his eyes. An abyss of grey stares back at you, devoid of humanity. Taking pleasure in besting you yet again. Disappointment is mixed within an interest to see what you’ll do next. There’s no smile on his face as you’ve come to expect. You see an empty shell of a man glowering down at you, from a place just out of reach. 

“I can’t say I’m too pleased about this, [First]. We’ll need to have a long discussion, don’t you think?” 

[sally-mun]

So obviously these were all sent at different times, but they all deal with kind of the same thing so I figured I’d address them all at once. Also, apologies to @bowlerhatwearer​ for consistently being a shit about answering the messages you send me. Honestly, most of the time when I don’t respond it’s because you’re on a higher level than me with this stuff and I don’t know what to say. These messages are definitely an example of that sort of thing.

Of course, there’s one other ask in this set that’s NOT here because I actually did respond to it in a timely manner -- wherein you asked about my reaction to Microsoft buying ActiBlizz. That one was easy to reply to because my reaction was immediate and simple: “GET FUCKED, BOBBY KOTICK.” And honestly, that’s still the bulk of my reaction to that news.

Considering that I wanted (and, well, still want) to be a games journalist, it’s probably not a great sign that I not only don’t keep up on these sorts of things but I also don’t really care that much. I’m kind of at the point in my old age where I’m disillusioned from what AAA gaming will ever offer me anymore anyway, because the landscape of gaming is wholly unrecognizable from what I always understood gaming to mean. The 2010′s were really not a net good for the games industry, and as the water gets muddier and muddier I’ve just been disassociating harder and harder from it all. Maybe it’s terrible to say, but I really don’t care if Microsoft or Sony or whomever is buying up other studios. Half the time I’m not even aware OF individual studios unless something in the news forces me to -- such as the many crimes of Bobby Kotick forcing me to even notice that ActiBlizz exists.

On any given day I’m only ever just sort of vaguely aware of various devs and publishers’ presence. I’m not invested in any of the current companies the way I grew up being invested in Nintendo and Sega. I think they’re maybe the only two for whom news about them could realistically upset me, and that’s mostly because they’ve both been a part of my life for so long. You guys have to remember that, for the majority of you reading this, my childhood was a lot earlier than yours. I know who Blizzard is, but it doesn’t really mean anything to me. I know who Bungie is, but they don’t mean anything to me. You could maybe tug at my feels with Capcom, because that is another company that was a household name for me as a kid? But other than that, I just... really don’t care about these companies insofar as them as corporate entities. I care about how they treat their employees and whether or not they care about the quality they put into their products, but as companies themselves? I’m sorry, I just do not care.

But honestly, I feel like these companies aren’t giving me a reason TO care, either. Maybe I would’ve had more of a reaction to Bethesda being bought up if they hadn’t behaved absolutely unconscionably in literally every conceivable way leading up to, during, and after the release of Fallout 76. Maybe I’d lose sleep over the idea of someone else heading up Activision if Activision had in ANY WAY ever endeared itself to me instead of relentlessly taking advantage of both its staff and its customer base. I’m sure I WOULD care to some degree about these companies if they ever demonstrated, to any degree, that they cared about us as well. But they don’t. So I don’t, either.

[twomanyideas]

The Grill Next Door

A collaboration by @mdelpin​​​​ and @oryu404​​​​

Gratsu Week 2021 Prompt(s): Impress, Smile, Smokey Pairing: Gray x Natsu

AO3

Summary: Natsu had to repress a loud snort when he caught his first glimpse of his neighbor. The guy was dressed in only a pair of black boxers, his fair skin slick and shiny from the thick layer of sunblock he had applied. His back had white streaks and missed spots all over it from where he hadn’t been able to distribute it evenly, and some of the lotion was sticking to the dark hairs on his neck.

But the absolute worst thing of all was that he obviously had no idea how to use a barbeque properly.

0-0 Summer was arguably the worst time to be moving. Who in their right mind would want to spend all day inside unpacking boxes when it was 90 degrees outside? Definitely not Natsu, and yet here he was, dragging another box full of stuff up the stairs in his new home. He was grateful for his friends, who had been there when he’d gotten the key and helped him clean the house, paint some walls, and install the larger pieces of furniture. But now that there was only the smaller clutter left, he was on his own, and he was missing out on all the summer fun. His friends were all enjoying themselves without him; spending their free time at the beach or the pool, barbecuing in their yards, raiding the ice cream parlor… “Soon…” Natsu sighed to himself. Soon, he could join them again. He just had a few more boxes filled with necessary items to go.

He’d already unpacked the ones filled with kitchen utensils and Happy’s stuff. All that was left were his toiletries and a few clothes. He’d sort through the rest of his crap bit by bit, one or two boxes every night until he was done. That way, he could still get the most out of the vacation days he'd pulled out for moving. He opened the box he’d brought upstairs with him and groaned; of course, he’d grabbed the wrong one. Instead of towels and shower products, he was looking at some of the housewarming gifts he’d gotten. A key hanger from Lucy, because he was always losing his keys. A baking set from Erza, which Natsu had to admit was the most optimistic gift he’d ever gotten, and a cute houseplant from Wendy, carefully wrapped up in brown paper, with wet paper towels to keep the soil moist.

There were a few more small gifts, but Natsu’s attention was drawn to the flat package at the bottom. More specifically, to the image that was on it, giving away what was inside: a bright pink flamingo kiddie pool. “So you can have a pool in your backyard!” Sting had grinned when Natsu unwrapped the gift. It was obviously a gag gift, and at the time, Natsu had seen the humor in it. He’d even joked that he’d call Sting for a pool party once he was all settled in, but right now, it only fueled his longing to do something fun. Actually… Screw unpacking, he’d do that later. One look through the window, at the bright blue sky and the burning sun, was all it took to finalize his decision. He picked up the box and took it downstairs again, quickly watering the plant before it could die in the summer heat, and putting it on a windowsill. Leaving the rest of the box’s contents for now, he took out the inflatable pool and started digging through one of the other boxes in search of his swim trunks.

He’d done enough for today. He was going to sit in his backyard and enjoy his stupid pool, damn it. Once he’d changed into his swimwear, he applied a thin layer of sunblock he’d found during his search for a towel. He went outside with the pool under his arm, sticking his foot out when he slipped through the sliding door to keep Happy from sneaking outside.

“Sorry buddy, you can’t go out yet,” he apologized, knowing that it was for the best.

They'd only moved in a few days ago, and Happy needed to get used to his new home. If he were to run away, he'd get lost trying to find his way back to their old apartment, and the last thing Natsu wanted was to end up like Rogue, who had spent all night frantically searching for Frosch when he had just moved in with Sting and failed to shut the front door behind him fast enough. Still, Natsu couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sight of Happy pawing at him from behind the glass. Maybe he could get him a cat leash tomorrow, so he could at least explore the backyard safely. One thing was for sure, he’d definitely give him some of his favorite fish treats to make up for a few hours of sitting alone inside. With that in mind, he smiled and took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh summer air and the delicious smell that came along with it. It was one of his favorites, and he instantly recognized it. One of his neighbors was grilling in his backyard. Too curious for his own good, Natsu followed the scent. His nose told him it was coming from the house to his left, from the backyard that was only separated from his by a tall wooden fence. Tall, but not tall enough to keep Natsu away. He was just able to peek over the top if he stood on his tippy toes.

He wanted to get an idea of who was living next to him, that’s all. Okay, and maybe he wanted to live through them a little as they indulged in one of his all-time favorite summer activities. \

Natsu had to repress a loud snort when he caught his first glimpse of his neighbor. The guy was dressed in only a pair of black boxers, his fair skin slick and shiny from the thick layer of sunblock he had applied. His back had white streaks and missed spots all over it from where he hadn’t been able to distribute it evenly, and some of the lotion was sticking to the dark hairs on his neck. But the absolute worst thing of all was that he obviously had no idea how to use a barbeque properly. “You know, your food is going to cook more evenly and taste a lot better if you close the lid,” Natsu suggested, bursting out in laughter when the guy jumped and almost dropped his tongs. “Idiot!” He whirled around and glared at Natsu, waving the tongs in the air as he stomped closer. Damn! This guy was actually pretty cute when he was mad.

"I almost burned myself. What were you thinking?!"

"That you weren't doing those ribs the justice they deserve," Natsu retorted, frustration rising within him once he managed to tear his eyes away from his half-naked neighbor and focus back on the grill. All that delicious aroma-filled smoke that would've added so much flavor to that gorgeous meat was getting away!

It was a fucking crime.

"Pay attention to what you were doing, you jackass! You gotta flip them over!"

The guy quickly returned to his grill to tend to his ribs, cursing as he fumbled with the tongs while trying to keep a safe distance between the searing heat of the barbecue and his own bare ribs.

"Man, you really suck at this," Natsu couldn't resist pointing out.

"Oh, and I suppose _you _could do better?"

In all honesty, Natsu was a terrible cook. He lacked the ability to multitask in the kitchen, always made an enormous mess, and often combined ingredients that his friends insisted should never be combined.

However, cooking and grilling were two completely different things to him. His dad had taught him how to cook meat on an open fire or a makeshift grill during camping trips since he was little, and he had it down to a fine art by now.

"You're damn right I can," he scoffed, taking the question as a challenge and being kind enough to climb over the fence and invite himself to his neighbor's backyard so he could show him how it was done.

"What are you doing?!"

"Saving your meat, of course! Move over."

Too stunned by what was happening, the guy didn't protest when Natsu snatched away the tongs. He just watched with his mouth open as Natsu flipped the ribs and set the grate to a higher level, making sure they'd cook slower. And much to Natsu’s amusement, it wasn't just the grill he was staring at.

Satisfied with his intervention, Natsu closed the lid and stepped back. "There, that should do it!" he grinned, putting the tongs down on a plate on the nearby table so he could hold out his hand in greeting. "I'm Natsu, by the way. I just moved here last Wednesday."

"... Gray," his neighbor replied, frowning warily but still accepting Natsu's hand and shaking it briefly. "Do you always stick your nose into other people's business like that?"

“Just wait, you’ll be thanking me soon enough.” Natsu said, amused by his neighbor's grumpy tone. “Anyway, you should be fine as long as you leave the lid closed for about an hour.”

“An hour?” Gray complained, “I thought grilling was supposed to be faster.”

“I mean, do you want fast, or do you want good?” Natsu drawled suggestively. He wasn’t sure if it was the beautiful weather or just the high he felt from having had a hot guy so obviously checking him out because normally he wasn’t much of a flirt, but he felt the urge to test the waters. “Cause I could show you both.”

Gray surprised him by laughing heartily at his innuendo. “There is seriously nothing subtle about you, is there?”

“Nope.” Natsu agreed and laughed along. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I’ll leave you to your grilling, gotta go set up my pool.”

He climbed the fence to get back into his yard, hearing Gray yell behind him. “You’re going to get yourself killed. Just use the gate next time.”

“But then, how could I show you my best asset?” Natsu retorted once he was safely over, chuckling as Gray muttered something he couldn’t quite make out. He wasn’t too worried, though. After all Gray had said next time.

0-0

Gray looked back at the grill, already tempted to open the lid and check on the ribs. What was he supposed to do for an hour? He’d mowed the grass earlier, and he didn’t feel comfortable staying inside while the grill was going.

The sun felt overly hot on his skin and he found shelter under a tree in his backyard. Playing on his phone had netted him ten minutes of entertainment and two group conversations he wasn’t all that interested in.

Maybe Natsu did know what he was talking about because the smell of the ribs cooking was making his mouth water in ravenous anticipation. Thinking about his new neighbor brought a smile to his face, especially since he heard odd noises coming from the other side of the fence. Didn’t he say something about a pool?

With all this time to kill, maybe he should go return the favor and see what he was up to.

With that in mind, Gray walked over to the fence and peered over it, unable to hold back a snort when he saw Natsu sitting on the ground and puffing air into a pink flamingo-shaped pool.

"Wow, I guess you really are full of hot air."

Natsu looked up at him, flashing that grin Gray was quickly developing a weak spot for. "So you think I'm hot?"

Yes, he sure as hell did, but he wasn’t about to give Natsu the satisfaction of saying so. At least... not yet.

“I think you’re having an awfully hard time blowing, which is… disappointing.”

"Huh. Never had any complaints before." Natsu shrugged, returning his attention to blowing air into the flamingo.

“Why don’t you let me show you how it’s done?” Gray said, feeling confident.

God knows he’d blown up a ton of these things for his brother’s kid. He’d quickly learned there was a little trick to it. You had to squeeze the valve as you blew into it or the air wouldn’t get in properly. Clearly, his hot dumbass of a neighbor didn't get that.

“You want to show me how well you blow?” Natsu tilted his head, looking amused by Gray’s suggestion. “How can I say no to that?”

Gray let himself into Natsu’s backyard, using the gate that connected their properties, like a normal person, and grabbed the pool away from Natsu. Using his trick, he quickly filled both rings of the pool.

“Color me impressed.” Natsu whistled in appreciation once Gray set the pool down on the grass. He filled it with water from the hose, which he oh so charmingly put between his legs, giggling to himself as he swung it around.

How the guy could go from flirting to acting like a five-year-old within the blink of an eye was beyond Gray, but he had to admit that it was oddly endearing.

Natsu jumped in with both feet as soon as the pool was filled, watching with glee as water sloshed out onto the grass from his efforts. He sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him, and immediately propped his arms around the pool’s rim.

“That feels so much better!” Natsu moaned happily.

Now that Natsu was inside it, Gray couldn't help but notice that the pool could fit two people, albeit a little snugly considering their size. And though normally he wouldn't be caught dead in one of these things- especially a pink flamingo one- it was a very hot day, and Natsu’s yard was a lot shadier than his.

"You want in?" Natsu asked, his lips stretching into a mischievous smile.

Gray’s eyes were drawn to the slightly pointy canines, finding them incredibly sexy, and he immediately wondered what kissing that mouth would feel like as Natsu patted the empty spot next to him invitingly.

What had gotten into him? He’d just met the guy, knew next to nothing about him, yet here he was acting like a hormone driven teenager. It wasn’t like him at all, but he couldn’t deny the chemistry that sizzled between them, so palpable he could almost touch it.

Besides, what was wrong with having a little fun? It was summer, and he had been in a bit of a dry spell for months.

That thought decided him.

“I suppose I could join you for a bit.”

He had just stepped one foot inside the pool when, to his surprise, Natsu stopped him. “Hang on a minute. I didn’t say you could come in. I only asked if you wanted to.”

“If you want in-” Natsu winked at him. “It’s gonna cost ya.”

“Cost me?” Gray sputtered in protest. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious. I will be more than happy to share my pool with you on this incredibly hot day, but only if you share some of those ribs with me.”

Gray had already been planning on doing that, but it was infinitely more fun to make Natsu work for it.

“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, which only netted him greasy fingers from the sunblock he’d slathered on earlier. “It seems to me like you’re getting the better end of the deal here. This is just a kiddie pool after all.”

“Alright, you drive a hard bargain, but I can respect that. How about this then? I’ll throw in some of my world famous special sauce.”

“World famous?” Gray scoffed, “It’s probably just something you picked up at the grocery store, but… okay, I’ll bite.”

“You promise?” Natsu gave him a cheeky smirk, one that ignited a need in Gray to get in that damn pool right the hell now and show him what he intended to do.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Gray said. “Just don’t complain if it ends up being more than you bargained for.”

Gray was so determined to get in there that he completely forgot he was already partly in the pool, and tripped over the edge when he tried to step in. He caught himself with his hands but still ended up splashing Natsu, not to mention had the wind yanked out of his sails.

He looked up to see the damage. The water had darkened Natsu’s pink hair and flattened it against his face, softening his features and somehow making the bastard look even more attractive. Gray watched in rapt fascination as a drop of water traveled from Natsu’s cheek, joining others on its way down his neck and over his chest until rejoining the rest of the water at waist level.

“You’re right,” Natsu laughed loudly, slicking his hair back and away from his face. “That was definitely more than I bargained for. Nice entrance, by the way.”

Gray was utterly mortified, and he scrambled to sit down, desperately trying to come up with a witty comeback, but before he could say a word, Natsu had already splashed him. 

“There you go. No need to make that face. It’s a pool. We were going to get wet, eventually.” Natsu shrugged, his expression gradually changing to distaste as he looked at the water.

“Dude, what did you use for sunblock, SPF lard?”

“I burn easily!” Gray protested, smoothing out the bits of sunblock he could see on his skin.

“Yeah? Then maybe you should actually get it on all of your skin. Turn around.”

“It’s hard to reach back there! Besides, you just want an excuse to get your hands on me,” he argued, but did as he was told anyway, turning his back to Natsu.

“Yeah, that’s the idea. Are you complaining?”

Gray pouted but remained silent.

“That’s what I thought.”

It was hard to miss the smug tone in his voice.

Natsu’s hands spread the globs of lotion evenly across his back, occasionally stopping to knead on one of his muscles and then concentrating on his shoulders. Gray closed his eyes, biting his lip so as not to let on how much he was enjoying it. If this was what he got in exchange for some barbecued ribs, he'd love to know what other types of food Natsu liked.

“There you go.” Natsu said, giving his shoulders one last squeeze. “You can turn around now. It should be safe for you to walk in daylight again.”

Gray turned just in time to see Natsu lean back into his previous position.

“Are you implying I'm some sort of vampire? Cause I’m not the one with the pointy teeth.”

“No, but you are the one who offered to bite me.”

“True.” Gray laughed, and not wanting to lose the mood, he made his move, adjusting from a sitting position to a half straddle. He leaned in, close enough that he could feel the slight puff of Natsu’s breaths on his face as he murmured, “I can still make that happen.”

“You talk too much.” Natsu said just as quietly, peering into his eyes for a split second before closing his eyes and bridging the distance between them.

Gray hadn’t expected Natsu’s body to feel so warm against his, especially considering they were both wet from the pool water, and he instinctively pulled him closer. As arousing as the kiss was, and Natsu sucking on his tongue was definitely doing things to him, he realized he had no urge to push for more.

That should have been his first warning.

But he wasn’t really thinking about anything. His world had narrowed down to sensations. The torrid heat of Natsu’s mouth, the sharp sting of teeth nibbling on his lips, and the tingling pleasure of his hair being tugged, coupled with the sounds they were both making. Needy moans that would have embarrassed him if Natsu hadn’t sounded the same.

Gray liked it all a little too much. Already, the thought of separating filled him with a sense of dread. And perhaps that should have been his second warning.

He was busy running his hands up and down Natsu’s back when he felt him let go of his hair. His hands trailed down to his chest, but no lower, and he pulled away, leaving Gray to chase after him. Confused and more than a little disappointed, Gray opened his eyes. Natsu sat perfectly still, his eyes slightly widening as he sniffed the air. “THE RIBS!!!” Oh crap! He’d forgotten all about the ribs!

“Go open the lid,” Natsu urged, scrambling to get up and out of the pool. “I’ll be there in a few minutes with the sauce.”

Gray watched Natsu enter his house and then hurried over to his yard. The food smelled even better than before and when he opened the lid and poked the ribs with the tongs; he saw they were indeed done, the meat tender and ready to fall off the bone. Rather than stand around waiting awkwardly, he grabbed two beers from his fridge along with plates, napkins and utensils to bring outside.

He opened the sliding door that led to his backyard and found Natsu brushing sauce onto the ribs from an unmarked blue bottle. There was a content smile on his face as he worked away, and Gray felt a flutter in his stomach at the sight.

Shit!

He’d never been one for one-night stands, so why had he thought he’d just be able to go along this time? Because Natsu was hot and seemed willing?

Gray wanted to know more about him, but he wasn’t sure if Natsu felt the same way or if this was just a game he liked to play. What would happen if he played along to its inevitable conclusion? Would that be the end of it? The two of them- probably awkwardly- moving on as just neighbors who happened to have hooked up?

Was it wrong of him to want more?

Natsu looked up then, waving at him and gesturing him over. His smile widened when he noticed the beer bottles Gray was holding.

“Ooh, beer wasn’t part of the deal! I must have kissed you real good!” Natsu teased, accepting the bottle and easing some of the uncertainty Gray had felt about whether things would turn awkward after their make-out session in the pool.

“You’ll notice this is only domestic beer, so I wouldn’t get too full of myself if I were you.” Gray retorted, still playing along.

“Meh, beer is beer, and it goes great with ribs.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

The back and forth was nice, but Gray was itching to ask what was really on his mind.

Can I keep you? Or will you run off after the next pretty face that strikes your fancy?

The lid of the barbecue closed again, and Natsu walked over. “They should be ready in about five more minutes.”

He clinked bottles with him and took a swig. Gray followed suit and decided to just go for it. He’d rather know what to expect than hope for something that wasn’t meant to be.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he blurted out, sounding a bit more eager than he would have liked.

“Sure, shoot.”

Natsu gave no sign he knew what was coming, or at least that’s what his relaxed posture seemed to broadcast.

“Do you do this kind of thing often?”

“Moving? God, no, I hate it with a passion. Might as well bury me here cause I’m never doing it again.”

“No,” Gray frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Natsu mock sighed, “I’m just trying to think of an answer that won’t go to your head.”

“What?” Gray didn’t know what to make of that answer. Was he trying to find a way to let him down gently?

“No, I don’t do this type of thing often.” Natsu admitted, meeting Gray’s eyes and holding his gaze. “Look, you’re hot and turned out to be fun to mess with, so I figured there was no harm in seeing where that led. But I’m not expecting anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Gray wanted to ask if that meant that he’d like to date, but to his chagrin, all that came out of his mouth was, “You think I’m hot?”

“See?” Natsu said, sounding amused. “What’d I tell you? Right to your head!”

He put his beer bottle down on the table and traded it in for the tongs and the plates before hurrying back to the grill to check on their food. Satisfied, he turned it off and heaped a large serving of ribs onto each plate.

Gray followed him to the table, only then noticing the sliced watermelon Natsu must have brought with him from his house. He bit into one to buy himself some time to organize his thoughts.

Next to him, Natsu had already begun to dig in, messily devouring the ribs, stopping only long enough to take a sip from his beer. Gray shrugged and did the same. It wasn’t like his table manners were anything to write home about, either. The moment the meat from the ribs touched his tongue, his taste buds were assaulted with flavor. Sweet, salty, spicy… all blending together in perfect harmony. It was by far the best ribs Gray had ever tasted. He could hardly believe they’d come off his grill. He glanced at Natsu admiringly. Not that he noticed, focused as he was on his plate.

“So, what other things can you make?”

Natsu looked up at his question. There was a glob of sauce at the corner of his mouth, driving Gray all sorts of crazy with the urge to kiss it off him, but he held strong.

For now.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but this is it. I can’t cook worth a damn.”

“That’s too bad.” Gray tried but failed to suppress a smile. “Guess I’ll just have to show you all the best places to eat around here, then. You busy tomorrow night?”

Natsu shook his head, breaking into a smile so blinding it wiped every single thought out of Gray’s head. Save one.

"Nope, I'm all yours," Natsu answered after what looked like a brief moment of contemplation.

Gray sure as hell liked the sound of that.

“There’s just one thing…”

Natsu tilted his head and scrunched up his nose in silent question, which was just perfect.

“You’ve got a little something there,” Gray said, leaning in and licking the sauce off before claiming Natsu’s lips hungrily.

The kiss tasted like sauce and beer, but most of all, it tasted like more. And more was definitely bound to follow soon, tomorrow night, and many more days after.

Gray could feel it.

[chaos-burst]

Hey! :) I’ve wanted to play d&d for a while now, and after getting into critical role i finally decided to convince my friends to play with me. None of us have played before, so im both exited and a bit nervous since i’ll be the dm. We don’t know anyone who plays, and i’m not very comfortable with palying with strangers, so we’ll be diving right in together! Do you or your followers have any tips or good resources to recommend for new players and/or dms? Any tips would be greatly appreciated! :D

Hey there!

I’m very flattered that you would ask me for DMing tips, but I just have to preface this saying that I am a first time DM myself and I am currently on session 13 of my campaign. But I can see if I can list some things that I found useful building my first campaign :) And I totally feel you not being comfortable with strangers, I play with a group of friends and we were all first time players when we started!

Let’s start with resources! (I will put the links in a reblog bc tumblr is a dick about posts with external links in them. Sry for the hassle!)

Probably a bit redundant, but nevertheless very helpful: The core rulebooks for D&D. Which is to say The Dungeon Master Guide, The Monster Manual and The Players Handbook. Bc those are expensive as fuck, check out this lovely thing (1).

Then, depending on whether you play online or live: Roll20.net (2) You can invite your players to your campaign and make maps for encounters with minis on them, you can insert music that plays in the background and it also rolls dice for you if you have to roll a big amount of dice and don’t want to do math ;)

There is an encounter builder on kobold-fightclub (3) that can help you balance encounters according to your party’s level! I have found it quite helpful and it’s also an easy way to filter monsters for a specific terrain when you know that you’ll be running through a swamp/desert/cave etc.!

I also found this this cheat sheet very helpful, esp regarding the different conditions that I can never seem to remember.

Then, ofc, one of CR’s sponsors: dndbeyond (4). Me and my friends bought a subscription bc damn is it useful to be able to click on anything on your character sheet and see what the hell it means. It also helps you track your spellslots/HP etc. during combat. 

Something I also did was watch Matt’s videos (5) on how he DMs. Altho it bears to say: Don’t compare yourself to Matt Mercer. It will only stress you out. 

You like maps? So do I! Check these out (6/7). 

You want to keep track of your npcs and important lore and places and everything? You could try worldanvil (8)! It’s like building a wiki for your own world!

And then about tips. It is probably easier to give tips when you have specific questions than it is to give general tips, but I’ll do my best! I’m sure many experienced DMs want to chime in and add to it :)

Communication is (as with most things in life) key to everything. Get together with your players for a Session 0 and just talk about what kind of game you want to run and what kind of game they want to play. There are people who like combat more than roleplay or vice versa. There are people who want to play an evil campaign or they want a lot of political intrigue or they are soft marshmallows like I am and don’t want permanent character deaths and so on and so on. Just get together and talk about what you guys want to create. Also talk about the characters with each individual player.Ask them about triggers they have, so you can avoid topics. Ask them how they feel about an NPC flirting with their character. It goes the other way around as well! Tell them about your boundaries and your expectations. One of my friends wanted to make a character with a neutral evil alignment. I told that it’s fine, as long as there’s the prospect for the character to evolve towards a neutral or good alignment, bc I have no interest in dm-ing an “evil” campaign. 

Something that might make running a campaign easier for you is if your players’ characters already know each other before the game starts. If you’re like me you will sweat bullets thinking about how to get them to work towards a common goal. If they’re already friends/rivals/lovers/colleagues/members of the same adventuring guild you will not have that problem. And they can give you some notes on how they envision the relationships to be/how they met.

You can start your adventure with one of the official adventures that are out there if you want to! You don’t have to do a whole ton of worldbuilding like I did bc I’m a crazy person and have my whole setting homebrewed. If not, you can always make life as easy as possible for yourself and start small! Build a small town with a few key NPCs, put a small assortment of possible quests there and then only roughly sketch out what you want the “outside world” to look like. I as a player love some context when I build characters, so if you want to give your players a small introduction into the campaign setting, I think that would be helpful and also helps creating characters who fit into your setting! If you want to run a campaign that has tons of dragons and poisoned oceans that cannot be crossed by mortals it would be sad if a player came to you and gave you the character sheet for a sailor.

If you do a whole campaign, I found it helpful to have a rough idea about different factions and two or three major events that shape your world. Ideas for later quests will eventually tie into big world events when the players get higher level!

Draw yourself a map. It doesn’t have to be elaborate or anything, but at some point there will be a question about “where is the next big city, we need to buy healing potions” and you will feel much safer if you just have a piece of paper (analogue or virtual) with like... a rough outline, some landmarks and some cities on it. At least that’s how it was for me!

You don’t have to reinvent the wheel. Don’t beat yourself up if your first quests are “standard” stuff like “Take care of this giant rat infestation in the cellar of the tavern.” or “My purple dragoncat has been abducted, please get him back for me.”. I started my campaign with small quests before getting to a small arc and then I want to work towards bigger arcs eventually. But for new players and a new DM I found it very helpful to keep things low stakes to not stress anyone out too much. If you fuck up the giant rat infestation, the world will not end, you know? That is nice. Also works well as a tutorial for everyone! Combat is intimidating! So many rules! Take your time to figure out how stuff works with some nice, small quests and some not-too-complex-combat encounters!

You don’t have to follow every rule. There are so many rules for everything and that can be helpful but it can also be stressful. You don’t have to do everything by the book and if you notice that some rules annoy you and your players, you can always change them as you go along! (Cats have nightvision. Sometimes the rulebooks are dumb.)

Don’t get hung up on too many details. I love worldbuilding, but I get obsessive easily. Sometimes I think my world isn’t ready enough bc I tend to think like a writer who has to have everything figured out. That is not the case with d&d! Sure, It’s good if you know stuff. But d&d is not only about planning, it’s also about improvising. And the world will grow while you play in it! Before you know it you’ll go like “I want to have an encounter with this cool ice monster. I need an icy landscape.” and then you will make one. And maybe it wasn’t there before, but who cares. Your players will be excited and you can make up the lore as you move along! 

Did I mention communication? 

If you have specific questions about certain aspects of DMing or how to start, feel free to message me anytime :) I hope this helps a little bit! I’ll reblog in a second with the links!

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Through the Eyes of Another - Benny Miller POV of the Helicopter Crash (TC2 Universe)

A/N: I have been toying with the idea of how Benny reacted and felt when Doc fell out of that helicopter in chapter 2 of Switch to Channel 2 and I finally wrote it. Thank you for reading, reblogging, commenting, and liking.

Pairing: Benny Miller x F! Reader (Doc) 

Warnings: Language, canon typical violence, longing 

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Benny looked down at Doc resting on his shoulder, her hand intertwined with his, a small dribble of drool dripping down her chin, and he thought no one had looked more beautiful. Fifteen years of friendship, watching her go out with every type of man, and even falling for Pope, she was worth the wait. The craft shook once as they climbed in altitude, and Pope nodded to him from her other side, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles softly before getting up to go to the cockpit. Benny changed the frequency back on his and hers headset and, as gently as possible, moved her to lay back, but those eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a butterfly. Frankie’s voice cackling across the headset. 

Her eyes opened slowly, and she blinked up at him, giving him a small smile, her not knowing the effect she had on him. He stood up and stretched, following behind Santiago to the cockpit. “What’s going on up here, boys?” he shouts and squints as the sun peaks over the mountains. Frankie focused on lifting them higher, and the red light began to blink and beep rapidly. 

“We need to lose some weight, or we’re not going to make it over the mountains,” Frankie turned to Pope and Benny. 

“You want to leave money in the middle of the jungle?” Tom huffs and crosses his arms like a petulant child. 

“Do you want to get to the ocean?” Frankie snaps, and Benny puts an arm on his shoulder to calm him down. 

“We’ll take care of it, come on Benny,” Pope claps his shoulder, and he follows him to the back. The craft gives another harsh shake, and Will reaches out to steady Doc, but Benny gets their first, wrapping his hands on her waist and pulling her back against his chest. The light floral perfume that clung to her skin wafted up to his nose, and he inhaled deeply, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. “We need to get rid of some of the money, or we’ll never make it over the Andes!” Pope shouts, pointing towards the back. 

Doc nods and goes to follow, stopping once to put a hand on Will’s shoulder when he goes to follow, narrowing her eyes at his stern look. He sighs and lays back down, and Benny smiles, following behind her. Ben reaches for the handle, and the back opens almost blowing them back as the cold air swarms around them. Doc looks between him and Pope, and they nod, tossing bags out the back and watching as they explode like confetti as the money hits the mountainside. 

 “That’s enough; let me go check!” Santi shouts and makes his way back to the front. Benny closes the hatch on the back and watches her shiver, reaching a handout and pulling her to his chest. She leans to lay on him, and he leans down, pressing his lips to her forehead, feeling her shiver from the gentle touch. 

Doc walks back over to Will and puts on her headset tuning in to the conversation upfront. “Come on, baby, come on, baby,” Fish chants, and she grabs onto the seat as the helo shakes violently beneath her, the beeping from the control panel. “She feels better,” Benny watches her smile a little before she is flung backward, and the helicopter surges backward. 

Benny fights his way to her side, pulling her to his chest, keeping one arm around her waist and the other to the wall. “What the fuck are you doing, Catfish?!” Will shouts, and Doc holds tight to Benny’s arm around her waist. As if he would ever let anything happen to her. 

“One of the gearboxes is blown; I don’t want to put her into a spin,” Frankie’s voice is calm, and Benny is reminded why Fish is one of the best pilots out there. It feels like hours but could not be more than a few minutes as they spin in the helo. “Lose the money, and maybe we don’t die,” Frankie’s voice comes out quiet before he is screaming, “LOSE THE MONEY OR WE ALL DIE!” 

Santi points to the level behind Benny, “Ben! Pull the lever!” Ben reaches with his free hand, not braced around Doc, and pulls the lever, but nothing happens. Shit. Doc rips herself out of his grasp, and he makes a mad dash to grab her, but she’s too quick. Benny watches with horror as she shimmies through the hatch and hangs out of the craft. 

“FUCK, DOC!” Benny drops to his knees and reaches for her hands, holding on with everything he has. He just found this relationship with her, fuck if he is going to lose her now. His hands hold on to her wrist, and she kicks at the red handle, and the bag releases, shooting the craft a few feet up in the air. “Hang on, sweetheart,” Ben bites his lip and feels the tear soak his cheek. 

She looks down and then back up at him grimacing for a moment, “Benny! You have to let me go!” She must be out of her fucking mind. 

“FUCK THAT,” I love you, “We can pull you up!” Please, sweetheart, please don’t do this. He pleads with his eyes, but she just gives him a smile and lets go of the edge. Ben holds on, but it’s not enough, and she screams, dropping to the ground with a thud. “NO! FUCK, DOC! NO!” 

“BENNY!” Will shouts, and Ben turns, wiping his nose, “Hang on, brother! We will find her, but you need to live through this first!” Ben nods and moves as quickly as he can to the seat, and his hands shake, pulling the belt on the seat. They hit the ground hard and turn on their side, rotating in a circle, the blades slicing the ground like a blender. Ben unlatches the belt and falls to the ground as soon as they stop, helping to get Will to his feet. 

“BENNY!” he hears her shout, and he lets out a broken sob, barely holding it together. Hands shaking and breathing coming out in gasps, he helps Santi and then Will out of the craft and watches Will slide down the side, Pope reaching a hand out for him. Benny climbs up and out and slides down the opposite side trying to compose himself but failing miserably. 

She didn’t even fucking think about what losing her would do to him. The relief turns to anger as he stalks around the craft and sees her checking over Will. When she finishes, he wastes no time and flings her over his shoulder and to the other side. She screams, but he honestly couldn’t give a fuck and lands her unceremoniously to the ground and watches as she opens her mouth to argue but freezes. He knows he looks like hell. Wouldn’t you be if the one you loved just did something foolish and suicidal?

“What the fuck were you thinking?” She tries to speak, but he cuts you off, putting his hands on her shoulders and shaking. “What the FUCK were you are thinking?!” he shouts, and she cringes. “You could have broken your goddamn neck! Or back! Did you not even fucking think about us when you did that shit?!” The possibilities run through his head, and he feels his throat tighten at the idea of losing her; she is everything; how could she not know that?

He can see she is on the verge of tears, and she bites her lips and swallows hard, “I did what needed to be done.” He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. 

“You didn’t need to go down that hatch! You didn’t need to disconnect us from the bag; I could have done that!” Stupid, beautiful, infuriating woman, he thinks to himself, I love you, fuck.

“Benny! Doc! Come on, let’s go; they’re getting into the net!” Tom’s voice shouts from the other side, and she goes to move, but he blocks her way, stepping closer until he feels her breath against his face. 

Her eyes harden; he can see the exact moment her defenses raise. “So it’s okay for you to risk your life but not me?! Don’t give me that toxic masculinity bullshit! I expect this shit from Tom but not you.” The words are biting, and he takes a step away, hurt flashing across his face. 

“You think I didn’t want you to do that because you’re a woman?” she nods, and he scoffs, “Fine, fucking believe that if you will, but the reason I didn’t want you to die is that you’re my woman! I care about you,” his voice cracks, “so much.” You are my best friend, my reason for breathing, the love of my fucking life. The words he wants to say dying on his tongue as Pope comes around the corner. 

“Sweetheart. I need you, the villagers they’re getting into the money, and we think it may be less intimidating with a woman present.” She nods, never looking away from him till the last moment, putting her hand on Benny’s arm and ducking under, walking over to Santi, who reaches a hand out for her. “You okay?” he whispers, and she nods, wiping her face. He never meant to make her cry, but he was so worried. 

Benny follows behind silently, and she goes over to stand beside Will while Redfly goes over the plan. “Alright, that’s cocaine they’re growing, so they probably already have guns on us from those towers. Doc, Pope, and I will go over and try to talk some negotiations with them. Cat, you take that ridge over there,” he points to the left, “And Benny, you take the right.” 

He doesn’t like the idea of her going close to any more danger, but he trusts her to do the right thing. Even if every fiber of his being tells him to hold her close and never let her out of his sight again, she goes to take a step toward them, and he can’t let her go without telling her. Reaching an arm out and wrapping it around her wrist. I love you, “Be careful.” 

She moves her hand down to hold his own and squeezing his fingers and following behind the others. Pope turns and looks at him over the field of cocaine plants and nods, an unspoken agreement between the two men. Protect her. At all costs. 

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Tagging some people who might be interested: @peterhollandkait @clydesducktape​ @witchyavenger​ @hidden-bookshelf​  @thirsty-flygirl