#what should i do? what should i do? (a) kill them all (b) be like hey friends. yep: that's me. freeze frame. dead :/

[mrsriddlenott]

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist}

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“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

Another Lesson? (Coming Soon)

[tuttle-did-it]

As a child-free disabled person in their 40s…. Don’t have kids if your main reason is for them to take care of you when you get older.

Also also, it’s not their job. Kids don’t ask to be born. This idea that ‘I took care of you as a baby so you have to take care of me when I’m older’ mindset is absolute shit.

They owe you nothing. They can choose to help you, which is great. But they owe you nothing.

And you don’t have to take care of your parents when they are older. Especially if they are abusive.

You can choose to. Which is great. But you don’t have to stop living your life to take care of them when they chose to have you.

My mother had her sons to take care of from the time she was 16 until she got the youngest one out of the house about 18 years ago. (Long story but I wasn’t raised with her).

She was going to move home to her country once her kids got out. Then her parents fell ill almost immediately after. She put her life on hold again to take care of them.

My mother has taken care of her abusive, cruel parents for over 15 years. Her mother died during one of the Covid spikes.

She’s now stuck looking after her abusive father who has treated her like shit her whole life.

I have seen her age 30 years in the past 15 from the stress. A full time job being the carer of two very difficult, ill people, and working her full time job. She wants to move home to her own country. But she doesn’t feel she can go until he dies. So She is wasting her life— what precious few last years she had with her health still well enough she could do what she wants- retire, travel, volunteer at things she cares about.

Instead she is taking her father to doctors appointments, putting up with his abuse. She is constantly sick and worried and anxious all the time because she’s stuck in a country she hates, looking after a man who has always treated her like shit. She’s aging twice as fast, burning the precious time she has left for herself.

She’s chosen this. Because she’s of the generation ‘you take care of your elderly parents no matter what.’ And it’s killing her. Taking what I’m guessing is decades off her life.

She should t have to do this. There should be affordable, accessible help for people in this situation.

If she falls and gets hurt? Gets cancer? Hit with a debilitating condition like Parkinson’s? I cannot look after her when she gets older. I’m disabled, I can barely look after myself— and some days, I cannot even do that. Her sons will absolutely not take her in if she is poorly or ill.

She is wasting the precious few years of health she has on people who abuse her.

Will she will probably struggle alone, with no family to support her? Yeah. I hate it, but yeah. Is that going to happen to me? If I live that long, yes. I will be in a wheelchair, unable to move? Unable to take care of myself, and no one else to help me.

But should I have had kids just to improve the chances of someone being around when I am that old? Nope. That’s a horrible thing to do to your kids. Because I’ve seen the cost on her face and body as she gets more and more broken down mentally and physically from all of this.

Does she owe what precious free years of health, well-being she has left to her abusive parents? in a country she hates—no.

Do I owe it to her to move to a country I hate to look after her when she is older, at great cost of my own physical and mental health? No.

Would it be less scary, the thought of knowing you’re safe if you get older and need help? Of course. Would a kid owe me the best years of their lives to dribble smashed banana into my mouth? Nope.

If I had kids, would I expect them to destroy their lives helping me? Also no. I’d beg them not to, actually.

Sane and stable countries use taxes to help people from the cradle up the grave. It’s absurd to me that so many countries, including the one I am living in, has such tragically awful care for vulnerable people. Our taxes are as much as the sane and stable countries. But that money isn’t being used to help you, or me, or or that baby or that elderly person.

Mostly, it’s going to corrupt politicians who do whatever the fuck they want. And a royal family that has billions in their bank accounts but are still living off tax payers.

This is a very broken, ridiculous system. And I’m tired. I’m scared for me, for all the disabled people in my situation. I’m scared for all the people like my mum who might not even get her own life until she’s 80? You bet like hell I am. But that’s not the kids’ faults. That’s the governments for wasting your money starting wars in other countries, paying for private jets for politicians, and generally just being shit.

We all deserve better.

It feels taboo as a childfree person to admit this but I actually do have concerns about who is going to take care of me when I'm old. The elder care system in our nation relies A LOT on the unpaid care labor of adult children. I just don't think that's a good reason to have kids.

"But you'll have more money!" does not completely put this to rest for me. Neither does "Buy care insurance!" Even if I can afford direct personal care, who is going to advocate for me to get it? Who is going to navigate bureaucracy for me when I'm 80?

"If you do have kids, there's no GUARANTEE that they'll take care of you when your old!" That's true, but doesn't solve my problem.

I think childfree people get very defensive about this question because its used as a kind of "gotcha!" against us, but I actually do not feel we can afford to be in denial about this reality. Based on current trends of more people in their 30s stating they intend to be permanently childfree, we are going to see a huge wave of childfree adults hitting the eldercare system at once in a few decades. Childfree people in their 30s should be advocating around eldercare NOW.

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[wonderjanga]

Zombies

(So this is a little continuation from this post)

So basically in that post, Marvel and Aquaman got separated from the JL and find some ancient underwater Atlantean zombies.

*zombie groan*

Aquaman and Marvel: *slowly look over*

Giant Horde of Zombies: *just standing there*

They proceeded to go on a scooby doo be do type of chase, eventually deciding to hide in a ruined building.

Aquaman: “Should we just get rid of them?” *peeks head over some rubble to look at the zombies and is already readying his trident*

Marvel: “We can’t.” *also peaks head*

Aquaman: “What do you mean, we can’t? We have to take care of this now. If we leave, they might follow us back to Atlantis.”

Marvel: “I’m not saying we should leave them. They’re cursed.”

Aquaman: “Magic did this?”

Marvel: “Yeah.” *nods head* “We have to find out what happened to them.”

Aquaman: “Wouldn’t killing them be much easier? It’d be putting them out of their misery.”

Marvel: “Arthur, they’re still alive.”

Aquaman: “Eeeeh… Are they though?”

Marvel and Aquaman: *watch has a zombie runs into a wall and keeps trying to walk through that wall*

Marvel: “They are. Killing them will be our Plan B. If the curse is lifted, they might go back to normal and if not...”

Marvel and Aquaman: *look back at the zombie that is still running into the wall repeatedly*

Marvel: “We’ll get rid of them.”

After sneaking around a bunch more, they finally found a temple.

Marvel: “Gosh, I remember this place!” *looking around in wonder* “It was beautiful. It’s a real shame it’s just ruins now.”

Aquaman: *leaning down and looking at some broken stained glass* “I bet it was.”

Marvel: *spots a chalice on an altar* “I think that’s is it. I can sense some magic residue.” *jogs over*

Aquaman: *also walks over and spots a plaque on the altar* “Ancient Atlantean?” *skims it over* “Wow. The thing in that cup was a glorified liquid plague.”

Marvel: “It was? All the priests always talked about it like it was holy water.” *picks up the chalice* “Looks like someone drank it.”

Aquaman: “No wonder they’re zombies.”

Marvel: “Huh. To think the plague lasted this long. It’s a wonder they aren’t decomposing.”

Aquaman: “Uh, Cap?” *points to the horde rushing at them*

Marvel: *sighs* “It looks like we’ll have to get rid of them after all. If they’ve been with this plague for so long, it’s probably bonded too deep for me to use a counterspell.”

Aquaman: *pulls out his trident and gets to work*

Like Two Days Later…

Supes: “You were gone for almost two days, where have you been?”

Aquaman: “Oh yeah, that’s our bad. We got rid of some zombies-

Flash: “Zombies??”

Aquaman: “-and then popped up to the surface for some burgers.”

Batman: “And you didn’t think to contact us at all?”

Marvel: “We were really hungry. Arthur also tried to pay them in Atlantean currency cause that was all he had. So I spent like twenty minutes having to convert it into US dollars.” (Ref to the Wonder Girl and Marvel post from a long long long time ago)

Flash: “Cool! Uh… but why’re you guys covered in blood.”

Aquaman: “This is from the zombies.”

WW: “Have neither of you bathed yet…?”

Marvel: “Nope.”

They were in fact covered in blood. Fun fact, after killing all the zombies, Arthur actually found out the hard way that Atlantan zombie blood doesn’t infect you if it gets in your mouth. Though, he still ended up retching for like five minutes while Marvel was just patting his back.

Aquaman: *violently retching his guts out*

Marvel: “It’s okay, pal. Let it all out.” *patting his back*

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Listen the ‘Bruce brought dick in to stop him killing Zucco” is fun

You know what’s more fun

The fact that Dick Grayson is the fundamental opposite of Jokers one bad day

Because he was 9 and insane

Jokers “all it takes is one bad day” meet Dick Grayson also terminally insane but in the opposite direction.

(“I had a bad day not a fan, it’s illegal now”

“Chum murder is already illegal”

“Yeah in the eyes of the law, but who follows that! I’ve decided it’s illegal for people to have bad days”

“You have to follow laws Dick. You have to”

“Says the man getting shot at by the cops bc he dresses as a giant bat monster and fights crime using ancient martial arts”

“Hnnng”

“Anyway it’s illegal now, people suffering I have decided and I’m adorable so what I say goes!”

Bruce pinching bridge of nose “Dick you can’t save everyone and change every person you meets life”

“How about! No!”

“Di-“

“Great talk Bruce! Bye bye now!”)

Like when I say Dick Grayson was the crazy Robin I don’t mean he was aggressive or cruel

No I mean this man would not be out of place in Lewis Carol’s Alice in wonderland.

He’d see all the insane shit in Gotham and go ‘that makes perfect sense’ and continue on his merry way

Like he’s the type of kid who when he’s mad at Bruce for sidelining him on a fight against the joker (and making him fight Harley)

Will pull out a chessboard, grab Harley Quinn and go “I win, you get arkhamed you win we fight”

“Kid-“

“I have a gymnastics competition coming up and I wanna show up this douche in my class- you are not breaking my legs before then. Sit down. Play chess”

“Shit kid why didncha say so”

Why does he wanna fight the Joker who will objectively injure him far more throughly

“Well it’s simple math, I grew up in a circus, I like clowns, he is the biggest disgrace to clownery I’ve ever seen bet he didn’t even go to clown college. Doesn’t even have any iconic makeup, he just has toxic waste skin?? Like not even eye makeup or a red nose?? If you wanna do thematic crime do it right? Anyway it’s my legal obligation to try at any given moment to reck the embarrassment to all things goofy and funs shit.”

—————

Bruce looking for his 9 year old ward who was kidnapped as Robin

Dick hanging upside down on semi sentient vine gesturing wildly at poison Ivy who is nodding empathically

“And the water here is not normal!! Like how do you grow plants! I used to have to take care of plants all the time and now if I water them they rot! Like right in front of me!!? And I feel so bad but?? It’s water?? Please drink it?? Mr plant”

“Oh yeah it’s because of all the toxic ace chemicals in the water, you have to triple filter it. Honestly Robin I’m disappointed, your plants should be drinking the same water as you”

“ they do tho!”

“You…drink… Gotham tap water? Batman lets you drink Gotham tap water?”

“Well no… he always tells me to use the filter but I like the tap water!! Sometimes it’s fun colors and spicy”

“oh… oh that explains so much about you..”

“No he just came like that.”

“Oh HI B I was asking miss Dr.ivy why my plants keep dying”

“Robin don’t consort with villains”

“Miss Dr. Ivy you’re a doctor right”

Poison Ivy who is violently amused “PHD not MD but yeah I am”

“So you’re smart”

“Yeasss”

“Cool!…. What does consort mean?”

————-

Annoys the riddler by going with the most out of pocket technically true answer

Think “a sparrow with a shotgun”

———-

Makes the Jokers goons laugh, louder than the joker. Even while under threats of death by sufficiently wacky murder plot

———-

[cheerfullycatholic]

So I'm currently a pro-choice Christian, but I'm starting to lean towards pro-life recently? But I'm worried about the implication of banning abortions.

I'm worried about how abortions don't stop our even slow down when illegal, the same amount of them happen just dangerously.

I'm worried about miscarriages and how they're sometimes treated as a murder case in abortion illegal places.

I'm worried about doctors refusing to give life saving abortions to those who need it in face of persecution.

I'm worried about young children who can't give birth safely being forced to.

I'm split about the 1 baby vs 100 fertilized eggs question, where if the 100 fertilized eggs were really as sentient as a baby why would we save the baby every time instead of the 100 fertilized eggs.

I think it's best to give out birth control and sex education and make it easier to be a parent and I don't think abortion is what you should run to automatically, but idk. I got suggested your blog to help, what do you think?

Hi! I think your concerns are important and I'd love to talk about them (I'll number them all so nothing gets jumbled up) (my answers are below the cut because they're long)

1. Firstly, it's been reported many times that abortion rates do fall when made illegal or hard to get, while birth rates rise. Illegal abortions are much more dangerous, but I do not believe that is a good enough reason to allow abortion, because no matter what someone dies, which isn't good in any situation. More help for pregnant women and their babies is essential no matter the circumstances, but especially after abortion is made illegal so that women don't have to feel like they have no other choice but to have a dangerous back alley procedure. And to me at least, it doesn't feel right to say "abortions will happen anyway so we might as well keep them legal so they'll happen safely" because what else could that apply to? Murder? Driving drunk? Doing drugs? They'll happen anyway, after all

2 and 3. In America at least (where I'm from), there is no law that has made miscarriage illegal. One that caused a lot of ruckus was the Texas Heartbeat Law. People claimed that the law would criminalize miscarriage care and would lead to a bunch of investigations, but they rarely happen, and if they do, it's usually either because the police have reason to believe illegal activities were involved in the death of the baby (like illicit drug use or the baby being left to die or killed after being born alive) or because authorities don't actually know their own laws. There was one case where authorities got their own laws wrong in Texas, but the case was dismissed quickly. And just from everything that I've read so far, it seems to me that any legal action taken against someone for procuring an abortion would be taken against the abortion providers themselves, not the women getting the abortions

And this is what the heartbeat law states this, which mentions "life saving" abortions (emphasis added);

“Abortion” means the act of using or prescribing an instrument, a drug, a medicine, or any other substance, device, or means with the intent to cause the death of an unborn child of a woman known to be pregnant. The term does not include birth control devices or oral contraceptives. An act is not an abortion if the act is done with the intent to: (A) save the life or preserve the health of an unborn child; (B) remove a dead, unborn child whose death was caused by spontaneous abortion; or (C) remove an ectopic pregnancy.

"Spontaneous abortion" being a miscarriage. So at least in Texas and the other states with similar heartbeat laws, any doctor who refuses to treat women for fear of being prosecuted is wrong and should lose their jobs for medical malpractice

4. For any high risk pregnancy but especially for cases which involve young girls, there are steps in place to keep them safe which include increased monitoring, bed rest, certain medications, and early delivery. Young girls in the past have been able to give birth prematurely safely and without ending the lives of their children, but sometimes delivering their babies before viability is necessary and their babies die, but this is different than abortion and is not illegal. Again, if a doctor refuses to do an early delivery in order to try and save their patients, they are guilty of medical malpractice

5. I hate that thought experiment because the goal of everyone who asks it is to try and get you to say a born baby is more valuable than embryos and it's dumb. Whoever you choose to save in this made up scenario does not determine who is more valuable. All human life is valuable, choosing to save a born baby over a preborn baby doesn't diminish the value of the preborn baby, it just means you made a choice to save the born one. Which arguably (inarguably?) saving the born baby makes more sense because what are we supposed to do with the 100 frozen embryos after we get them out? They'll start to thaw and die pretty quickly if they haven't already from the fire in the ivf building

All around we can definitely do better in making sure women don't feel like their only choice is abortion like so many do (Silent No More has a ton of stories from women who felt like they had no choice or were forced into getting an abortion if you want to read them). I think our focus should be on addressing why women get abortions and doing our best to remedy their problems instead of killing their children. That's why I really like Let Them Live, an organization that raises money through community supported fundraisers for women who ask for their help. They have so many cool stories of women who accepted their help and are so glad that they chose life. If we really came together as a community that offered life affirming love and care, no one would have to be killed, and I think that's something that God would like, too. He did say after all that He hates the shedding of innocent blood (Proverbs 6:16-19). I can't think of anyone more innocent that little babies

(The first two links lead to Secular Pro Life, who have a lot of good resources and studies)

I really hope I was able to address your worries well enough (I'm still a bit sick so apologies if I didn't make much sense). If I forgot or missed anything or if you have questions please let me know, and if anyone has anything else they'd like to add (kindly, leaving your stinkiness at the door. Refer to my blog's title quote if you're confused), please feel free to!

[roanofarcc]

SAY IT BACK

pairing: jj maybank & pope heyward

summary: every time, Pope didn’t say it back. He should have; he knew that. It wasn’t like he didn’t say it back because he didn’t love JJ; of course he loved JJ. But Pope had been so certain he’d have the rest of their lives to say it back.

warnings: descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood & parental abuse. heavy angst but with a happy ending!! (bc I am still in denial but its FINE). season 4 alt ending

notes: jjpope, you are so dear to me <3 | read more

There was sand in Pope’s mouth. He felt the grit against his teeth mix with the salty water that streaked down his cheeks, cutting through the dirt and sweat that had gathered on his skin. 

They found what looked to be an abandoned room of an old, dusty building. Pope couldn’t remember walking there. He couldn’t remember rattling off a list of supplies they needed or Cleo gathering them within minutes. It was as if his mind switched on autopilot with only one goal repeating like a mantra or a prayer: do not let JJ die. 

Pope didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times he thought JJ Maybank was going to bite the bullet. He was reckless, leaped without looking, and had a mouth that often got him in more trouble than anything was worth. 

Perhaps it was stupid and naive, but as long as Pope had known JJ, he was sure he was invincible. It seemed as if no matter what bullshit JJ got into, no matter how many hits he took or people he pissed him, he’d always bounce back with some stupid smirk or an apology. And no matter how angry Pope got at him, he never ever wished for anything less than his best friend to remain at his side.

But JJ’s real father turned out to be an even bigger asshole than Luke. When he twisted a knife into JJ’s gut, Pope swore he felt it. A wasn’t too far away, but he hadn’t been there when it happened. He felt a hot wave of dread wash over him only to be followed by a horrible, gut-wrenching scream from Kie that rattled all of them. 

Pope blacked out at that point. Between each of them, they held just enough meager medical knowledge to stop the bleeding and stitch up the wound. They had no way of knowing if the knife had punctured something important, but the low but consistent rise and fall of JJ’s chest was the only thing keeping Pope from finding JJ’s son-of-bitch father and killing him himself. 

The mind-numbing reality that JJ wasn’t invincible was too hard for Pope to swallow as he sat beside the small cot that had been left in the room. Everyone was there, sitting and waiting. The knot in his chest made it hard to do or say anything. All he could do was stare at JJ, pale and eyes closed as if he’d simply passed out on the couch back at the Chateau, back when they were sixteen and the riskiest thing they’d ever done was pick a fight or two some stuck-up Kooks.  

John B. sat beside Pope, leaning against the wall with a face devoid of emotions. He too had tear-stained cheeks and his best friend’s blood caked under his fingernails, but Pope could tell his sadness was shifting into anger, the kind of vengeful malice that simmered in the air between each of them. 

“I never said it back,” Pope croaked out, his voice cracked and broken. 

John B.’s gaze shifted to the side of Pope’s face. “What?” 

“You guys asked me why I never said it back, when JJ said he loved us and I didn’t say it back.” 

A softness rounded out the edges of John B.’s voice as he curled his fingers around Pope’s shoulder. “We were drunk. JJ always tells us he loves us when he’s drunk.” That wasn’t the full truth. JJ did have a threshold he hit after a couple of drinks when he became sappy, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, kissing their cheek, and telling them all that he loved them. But he didn’t just do it when he was drunk; he did it sober too. And every time, Pope never said it back. 

The first time it happened was when they were twelve. JJ hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but he sauntered around the king of Pogues with his shaggy blond hair and wide grin. He had nearly crashed into Pope’s front porch on his bike that evening, just before sunset, wielding a black eye and busted nose. 

It was the first time Pope learned, who they thought was JJ’s dad at the time, hit him. But when JJ admitted it, he shrugged it off with a couple of crude jokes. 

Pope was nauseous when he sat on his bedroom floor, trying to clean up the blood off JJ’s face. It wasn’t the fault of the blood, though, it was the thought of JJ trying to stand up to his dad. A man twice his size who Pope had seen around the Cut, who smelled like beer and cigarettes. 

JJ had noticed Pope’s frown. He had stopped pressing the bag of frozen peas to his eyes and smiled at him. Pope didn’t remember exactly what he said, something along the lines of not to worry about him because in a couple of years, JJ would be well on his way to becoming a world-renowned pro-surfer. He had laughed, saying he’d be stupid rich and to stick it to his dad, he wouldn’t give him a penny. The only people he’d share with were Pope and John B. 

He had been so sure of himself, so sure he’d make it out of the Cut, out of his dad’s house, and onto something grand. And Pope believed him; why wouldn’t he? He had big dreams too. College years full of excitement and studies. He’d make something of him, become too smart for his own good, and buy his parents a big house on the water. He’d get married, travel the world for fun. 

That night, they squeezed into Pope’s twin-size bed, only a couple of months out for the two of them no longer fitting in it side by side. Their backs faced each other in the dark room. 

“What if you lived here?” Pope had said. “We could get bunk beds. That would show your dad.” 

JJ had laughed. “Yeah, bunk bed would be sick.” 

They elapsed in silence after that. Pope kept his eyes open, staring at the wall as he thought of a speech to give his parents, something they couldn’t say no to and had to let JJ move in. In his head, it could have worked. 

Maybe JJ thought Pope was asleep, or maybe not. “I love you, man.” His voice was just a whisper like it was a secret or something he had been embarrassed to say. But JJ said it, and Pope stayed quiet. 

Then it turned into a habit, something JJ said not super often but enough. Drunk or high. Sober, sad, sarcastically. Happy, as a thank you, or as an ‘I’m sorry.’ And every time, Pope didn’t say it back. He should have; he knew that. It wasn’t like he didn’t say it back because he didn’t love JJ; of course he loved JJ. 

But Pope had been so certain he’d have the rest of their lives to say it back. He thought there’d never be an instance where he, JJ, and John B. were joined at the hip until he was dragging his best friend’s body somewhere safe as he threatened to bleed out. 

They’d all done everything they could; it was all a waiting game at that point. Either JJ would open his eyes and they’d all breathe an impossible sigh of relief or they’d have to face the impossible fact that their luck had officially run out. 

Pope refused to accept the latter option. Because that was his best friend. Because they’d gone through too much for it to end like that. Because while JJ couldn’t see through the fog at the rest of his life, Pope could. Maybe it was cloudy and far off, but he saw them all finally win. He saw all of their grief, their seemingly wasted efforts, and their stupid mistakes pay off. Maybe they didn’t get the payout they deserved or maybe they still didn’t spend it wisely, but the most important thing was that they had each other. At every turn, down every road, and through every fight, they knew that, at the end of the day, if they had absolutely nothing but a criminal record and a hundred people who wanted them dead, they had each other. 

“Come on, man,” Pope whispered, leaning over JJ. He wasn’t sure if the tears in his eyes were new or if they hadn’t stopped since they saw Kie clutching a bleeding JJ in her arms with a look of grief so startling it knocked the wind out of Pope. 

There was just a faint rise and fall of JJ’s chest, fighting against his cold and pale complexion. 

“Pope,” Cleo’s voice sounded from the other side of the room. He peered at her with glossy eyes. The despair she had worn a moment ago had become something else, surprise, maybe? “Say that again.” 

Confused, Pope wiped his cheek with one hand, still clutching onto the fabric of JJ’s shirt with the other. “JJ,” he said. “Wake up, man.” 

John B. sat rigid, crawling to Pope’s side. “JJ?” He raised his voice a little louder, gently shaking his friend’s arm. “JJ!” 

Kie clamored to the cot, along with the rest of the group. She grabbed JJ’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Sarah stood above them all, a hand over her mouth. Cleo bit down on her lip, slowly shaking her head as she repeated. “Come on, rude boy.” 

Then Pope saw what they all had. A twitch of JJ’s fingers. His hand held in Kiara’s flexed before it seemed to tighten around hers. Then his head lulled just slightly, his face turning from undisturbed to pinched in pain or confusion or both. 

They all held their breath in a moment of anticipation so intense Pope felt like his heart was going to give out. 

And then JJ Maybank opened his eyes. 

“Oh, fuck,” JJ groaned, his eyes unfocused but looking at the faces surrounding him. Pope had never hugged anyone so quickly. He laughed out a sob, holding onto his best friend with a force the universe couldn’t shake. Everyone else joined in, careful to avoid the Frankenstein stitching on JJ’s abdomen. 

That signature, sideways smirk fell across JJ’s lips, undefeated but still a little broke. “What’d I miss?” 

Tears streamed down Kie’s face, but she smiled, brushing the sweater hair from JJ’s forehead. “You scaring the shit out of us,” she said. 

Pope hadn’t let go, his face in the crook of JJ’s neck. He felt a hand pat his back. “Dr. Spock? You’re squeezing the life out of me, man.” 

John B. hung his head, trying to clear away his tears. “Not funny, you asshole.” 

Finally, Pope relented, sitting back just slightly. When he looked at JJ, he still saw the twelve-year-old who crash-landed at his house that night. Bloodshot eyes and slightly crooked teeth. 

Pope hastily wiped his arm across his face, wetting his sleeves before he smiled too, also a little broken. “I love you, man.” 

JJ gasped, a lighthearted look of surprise flickering across his face. “Well, I’m be damned. All it took was me almost kickin' the bucket for you to say it back.” 

They all laughed, arms slung around each other's shoulders in a mess of happy tears. That was how it was supposed to be, how it was meant to stay. 

They stayed like that for a while, with no next game plan or scheme, just in each other’s company until the weight of the days, weeks, years events crash-landed on top of them. They stayed in a tangled pile of limbs, dozing off on the dirty floor beside the cot, slumped against one another. Pogues vs. the world and all that bullshit. Maybe it seemed like the world kept winning, beating them down, but Pope saw it differently. With a heartbeat still in each of their chests, the Pogues were the real winners. Maybe one day, they’d really come out on top, maybe they’d even stay there. But until then, their sanctity was within each other. And that felt like a win to him.

[moongumi]

⁀➷ ∵  ❝betrayal stings like a b*tch⁰²❞

⟶ simon 'ghost' riley x oc/reader

simon has to let the little thing holding him back go, the betrayal makes it easy but that doesn't mean it hurts any less.

⟶ cw. third person, angsty, betrayal, shadow!oc, relations with graves

⟶ note. yessir our girl's callsign is leech xd she has a good story behind why she was called that but it is the same OC in all the drabbles i write xx

he didn't expect to open up to anyone, especially not in the field—on the job. the strange girl he had been getting close to stands against him right behind the fucking devil himself.

"what? did you think she was one of you?"

graves' words stung a lot harder than he expected it to. his eyes were burning with hatred watching her stand there next to him like a good little pet.

1-3, leech. shadow company, american flag stitched on her flag uniform. how was he fooled?

she didn't even catch his eyes, he can't see her face under her blood stained mark. the blood of alejandro's people after they took fuerza especiales hq and betrayed task force 141 and the los vaqueros.

she doesn't even make a move when alejandro is captured and detained. soap gets shot and ghost makes his escape. he even had the nerve to look over at her, if she was alright. she just stands by him, nodding to his orders without even a shift in her eyes.

fucking traitor.

in las almas ghost was separated him soap, only managing to communicate with him through coms.

"why are you still here?" her voice, it hits him like dagger to the heart.

ghost turns to her instantly pointing his gun at her with the laser sight pointed right at her. she had her hands up, walking through the darkness with a knife in hand—fresh blood dripping from it.

"bored of killing innocents already?"

she shakes her head, "if you call the shadows innocent."

he didn't quite believe her just yet.

"it's dangerous, ghost."

ghost scoffs, still pointing his weapon at her. "for you."

"i'm not the one being hunted." she saunters towards him, unafraid of the consequences, he won't shoot her, she knew that.

she sighs, close enough to him to smack her hand against the barrel of the gun away from her direction. he gets the opening to toss his gun aside and grab her, tossing her agains the wall with his forearm pressed against her throat.

her helmet is off, and her heavy plates too, ghost eyes them before she replies to his silent questions. "quieter this way."

"you're here to kill me?"

she rolls her eyes, those orbs the only things visible under her half-mask and beanie. "if i was, you'd be dead."

"you think too highly of yourself."

she laughs, "a girl's gotta' be optimistic."

her laugher dies down when he presses his arm against her harder, taking her breath. she winces slightly at the pressure. her eyes start to water but she doesn't show weakness.

ghost gets close to her, his mask pressing against the side of her face. "why'd you do it?"

"he's my...boss." she words out through her struggled breaths.

"that all?"

she had the audacity to scoff, "you know the answer."

he knew the strange little relationship graves had with her, he didn't like it. he doesn't pry for more. when a tear slips down her face he pulls away.

she coughs catching her breath. "if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were tryin' to kill me."

"i should."

"but you won't."

she knew him well. from the short time they had together, he couldn't do it.

"get outta here." he orders, he's no longer her superior yet he can she stiffens at the tone.

she sighs, rubbing her hand over her face. "that's it?"

"what else?"

"not gonna' beg me to go with you?"

ghost scoffs, hearing the quiet voice of soap through his radio. "no."

she's still a traitor, the rest won't accept it and deep down he knew if he had folded over the gentleness and soft tone of her voice—her charming personality then price might kill her himself. a traitor to the force, she was apart of the group that went after a hit on the captain's team, he isn't going to forgive that—not easily.

"shadow 1-3, this is graves what is your position?"

"ghost—"

"you should answer that."

she nods, knowing that it was pretty much over. it hurts him to turn away from her, from the thought of what it could've been but he had to, he had a job to do.

[ladytanithia]

WIP whenever tf

I've had practically nothing in progress writing-wise in ages. Lost my mojo. But I'm trying to get back into a groove. Not happy with how I've done BLP so far, so I'm rewriting it, from the beginning, and incorporating Miranja's journal into it.

However, this scene from Out of the Ashes came up in a conversation the other day, and OotA technically still counts as a WIP, since it's not finished (dammit - NONE of the parts of Miranja's story is truly finished!). So I figured what the hell. It's been a long time since I had any writing to share, and this is one of the best scenes to really show how Miranja's mind works. Not even any sex here. <gasp!>

Tagging friends whose writing I've been enjoying whilst not producing anything myself. @dirty-bosmer @lillxart @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thequeenofthewinter @theoneandonlysemla I hope you enjoy it.

It was just about eight o’clock in the evening when they arrived back in Solitude. Before doing anything else, Miranja went directly to Castle Dour.

Tullius was sitting on the bench in the corner by the enchanting table in the foyer. Miranja had gone straight to the war room looking for him, hadn’t found him, had checked his bedroom, still hadn’t found him, and had backtracked to the front door before he finally spoke to her and drew her attention.

“Looking for me, Auxiliary?”

Surprised, Miranja turned toward the sound of his voice and approached him.

“Yes, sir. Here’s the Jagged Crown. Legate Rikke sent me to deliver it to you.” She handed over the Crown, and Tullius took it and turned it in his hands, examining it with interest as he replied.

“Excellent work, soldier. I have to admit, I had my doubts it even existed. Did you run into any trouble?”

Tears filled Miranja’s eyes, but she kept a stiff upper lip. Teldryn’s hand in the middle of her back certainly helped give her fortitude.

“We lost a lot of good men. I hope it was worth it.” Tullius didn’t need to know that she was also talking about the Stormcloaks who died.

“That’s not for you to decide, soldier. I wouldn’t have sent you in the first place if it wasn’t going to be worth it.”

Miranja’s pride stung at those words, while at the same time, her sense of justice was offended. She was the gods-damned Dragonborn, as well as a Thane in this hold, and she had become largely unaccustomed to people talking down to her. And in her opinion, this stupid war wasn’t worth the loss of ANY people, if you got right down to brass tacks. No one should be dying over what she felt was a deeply personal religious issue. It was tantamount in her mind to killing people for what they did in their own bedrooms.

“You seem to forget who you’re speaking to, General. May I be candid with you, sir?”

“By all means, Auxiliary. Let’s hear it.” There was a challenge in his voice and in the way he jutted out his chin.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t like you very much.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Tullius replied indifferently. He rose and brushed past her to carry the crown into the war room. “I’m not here to win popularity contests. I’m here to keep the Dominion out of Skyrim, and to quell this dissention.”

Miranja followed him, and Teldryn tagged along quietly behind her. “The Dominion is already in Skyrim, whether you want to admit it or not. I pass Thalmor on the road every day taking Stormcloak prisoners to gods-know-where to do gods-know-what to them. The only reason I don’t kill them is that I don’t want a bounty on my own head.”

“Wise choice,” Tullius acknowledged briefly, but added, “Think what you want, Auxiliary. It could be much worse.”

“I’m sure it could. I just want you to know that I think you’re a cold, insensitive…” She hesitated for a moment, searching for a milder word than ‘asshole.’ “…jerk. I wonder if you have a compassionate bone in your body, and if you really care about the people of Skyrim at all.”

Tullius’ face darkened with anger. “Listen up, Auxiliary. I’m here to do a job. Not that it’s any of your damned business, but I have family back in Cyrodiil who I love and miss terribly. I’ve been in Skyrim longer than I ever wanted to be. I’m doing what I’m paid to do, what I believe is for the greater good in the long run. I hope that’s also what you’re doing, why you joined the Legion in the first place.”

“Of course it is,” Miranja glowered back. “But I’d like to think I’m going about it in a more personal, compassionate way. I’m not sitting in a fancy castle ordering everyone else around. I’m on the ground, learning about the people and helping them in more ways than just killing Stormcloaks and getting Imperial soldiers killed.”

“Well, good for you,” Tullius replied with overt sarcasm. “Imperial Generals don’t have that luxury. I didn’t get to my station in life by being compassionate.”

“That may be so, General, but it’s obvious you’re not particularly happy. And there’s no reason to take it out on others. You chose your path.”

“And you chose yours when you joined the Legion, Auxiliary. You can either follow orders or take up residence in the Solitude prison. Which will it be?”

She was sick of being addressed as a title. “My name is Miranja. Miranja Laurentius. And I will follow orders, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You’re absolutely right, Miranja. We all have to do things we don’t like to bring about things we do like.” He stopped and regarded her with a scrutinizing look, as Miranja stared back with some surprise at his unknowing echoing of her father’s words.

“You said your name was Laurentius?”

“Yes.” She didn’t bother with the ‘sir.’

“Your father was in the Legion, wasn’t he?”

“Yes… sir.” Where was he going with this?

“Ah, yes, I see the resemblance now. I worked with your father briefly in Hammerfell some twenty-five years or more ago. I remember him because he had the same bleeding heart and lack of respect that you do.”

“I’m proud of my father and his work for the underprivileged,” Miranja said, jutting out her chin as Tullius had earlier. “And both my father and I give respect where it’s due. We just feel morally compelled to point out injustice regardless of who’s perpetrating it, and that includes the Empire.”

“Well, his soft heart is what kept him from advancing past Captain. He could have been a general himself, if he’d been tougher.”

“My father and I don’t measure success by titles and wealth. We measure our riches and our station in life by the happiness we create and the love we give and receive. My father retired a happy, peaceful man, and he’s still bringing joy to those around him and earning respect for his deeds.”

“Well, that’s a heartwarming story, Auxiliary, and your opinions are duly noted, but it’s time we got back to business.”

Miranja heaved a resigned sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, then spoke tiredly. “Very well, sir. What’s next?”

“I need someone I can trust to deliver a message of great import to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We have it on good authority that Ulfric has raised enough men to attack the city of Whiterun. The Jarl, however, refuses the Legion’s support. This missive should convince him. Be aware, soldier, these documents contain sensitive intelligence for the Jarl’s eyes only.”

Yes, yes, she’d overheard the conversation between Rikke and Tullius when she’d first walked into Castle Dour yesterday. “Of course, General. We may not see eye-to-eye, but we are on the same side, and you can trust me. Balgruuf was one of my first friends when I came to Skyrim. I’ll see this gets delivered.”

“You do that,” Tullius replied, eyeing her thoughtfully. “You’re dismissed.”

Once they were outside, Tel whistled – or tried to, and only partially succeeded with the scarf over his face – and shook his head. “Damn, woman, I can’t believe you spoke to a General like that and didn’t end up in the stockade.”

“Speaking your mind isn’t a crime, Tel, and I didn’t disobey any orders. I asked him for permission to be candid, and I also made sure to include ‘with all due respect.’ My father taught me that. I know when I’m within my rights.”

Teldryn chuckled. “I like a woman with cast iron balls. I bet your dick is bigger than his.”

Miranja grinned and blushed with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. They were still standing between the door guards, and there was no way the guards hadn’t heard the whole conversation, but they were wisely keeping their mouths shut. She knew the barracks would be abuzz later, though.

“So, what are we going to do with the rest of the evening, boss?”

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

Warnings: Straight up incest in this chapter.

Kiara didn't trust Rafe. Not at all. He had always been a bully. The  kook. One who got everything he ever wanted. And he did. Didn't he? He got away with murdering a cop. Rafe Cameron had more privilege than the average white male, and that was already a lot.

Fucking patriarchy.

During her Kook Year he was charming and kind to her. He still sort of was at times. But even then she couldn't forget what he was. Sarah apparently did. Letting him get away with murder. And Kie got it. Alright? She did. He was her brother and they used to be very close. He was there for her when their mother died. She was loyal to him. But to this extent?

Then again, wouldn't Kie cover up for JJ, John B and Pope in similar situations? Hasn't she covered for them already when they were doing some illegal shit like stealing? And yeah, murder was worse than stealing, but Rafe was still someone Sarah loved. So maybe she could understand. And Ward deserved to go to prison more than Rafe did. Ward Cameron had killed three people in his search for the gold, he was an actual serial killer. And he had been sober while doing it, unlike Rafe.

"Are you sure of what you're doing?" she asked Sarah once they were on board of that immense cargo ship. They were given one of the rooms, even through it didn't take a full day to reach the Bahamas. Sarah and Rafe stayed in another. Which was kinda weird, but she had chosen to sleep with the boys rather than get a room for herself so she really couldn't judge "All of this is...I don't know, Sarah. It's all so weird. You siding with Rafe and literally covering up a crime—"

"Lower your voice" her friend hissed, anxiously looking around.

They were on the deck, watching as the ship moved in the dead of the night.

Kie looked around. There was no one but them there.

"Sorry"

"Yeah. I'm sure. And even if I wasn't, it's too late to turn back now"

Kiara knew that to be true. They have committed too many crimes already. All of them. They were all covering for Rafe, John B even lied before a judge. There was no going back now.

"Let's hope we don't regret this"

Sarah smiled softly, kindly, brown eyes crinkling.

"I don't think I will"

Kie huffed. Not her, but they might. Especially if Rafe fucked them over with the gold. Not that she thought that would happen, not with Sarah vouching for them, but it was always a possibility. 

"I'm gonna check on the boys" she told her "Make sure they haven't gotten into a fight with Rafe"

Sarah chuckled "Yeah, that could happen"

Kie went back to the heir room, being careful where she stepped due to the darkness. She couldn't afford to fall off the ship. She didn't want to fall off the ship. Both Sarah and her went inside, but their ways parted before Kie could reach her room. The boys were all there, thankfully. None were getting into a fight with Rafe.

"Kie, thank God! Help us here" John B exclaimed standing from the bed he chose "JJ just had a stupid idea"

"His kind of ideas" Pope murmured.

"Funny, Pope" JJ turned to her, jumping from the top of the bunk bed "Very funny. But you know I'm right. We should knock out Rafe and take the gold. Yucatan is right there, waiting for us"

Kie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Yeah, that was definitely a JJ idea. One of the worst he ever had. Which said a lot.

"We're not doing that"

"Why not?"

"Because it's a stupid idea?"

"And Rafe is crazy, he could kill us" 

Yeah, that too.

"Look, this is fair. We'll have the exact same amount of money we were going to have before" John B was being rational, which was weird because he normally was the second most chaotic "Let's not ruin this"

"Yeah. We are so close now. It's best to swallow our pride" 

"I agree with Pope" 

JJ rolled his eyes, running a hand through his blonde hair. Much that she loved him, she couldn't agree with his stupid ideas, or maybe because she loved him she couldn't encourage him in those things.

"Fine. What y'all want, but if shit goes the wrong way because of Rafe, don't say I didn't warn ya"

"Sarah won't let anything happen"

"And does Sarah have that much sway with Rafe?"

"She did get him to give us the gold rather than keep it"

"Exactly!" Kie's phone began to ring. It was her mom. She didn't think twice before turning it off "Let's get some sleep, the Bahamas are seven hours away, better to arrive well-rested"

JJ frowned at her, as if there was something he didn't understand. He didn't ask anything, and she didn't say anything either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was some money in the safe back in Tannyhill. Rafe made use of it to get the ship to take them to the Bahamas and transport the gold with discretion. The gold better be in that fucking safe. He thought twisting his signet ring nervously. If it wasn't, they were fuck. Him, Sarah and Wheezie. They would take his sisters from him, put them in the system. Rafe would fucking die if that happened. He couldn't allow it. He would end up killing more people. Because being sober was making him more irritable and with no money and no family he just might go to prison.

"Mr Cameron" the captain of the crew, he thought his name was Terry or something "There is enough water for you and your wife to take a shower"

Wife? Oh, right. Sarah.

"Thanks" he forced himself to be nice, but didn't correct him in his assumption "I'll tell her"

He handed the stout man some bills before going back to their room. Wife. He thought my sister was my wife. That didn't bother him, not at all. But he didn't get why Terry had assumed that. Did they really act that weird? Like, yeah, they were not normal siblings, especially him. And he could understand that maybe he didn't look at Sarah like he should. I definitely don't. But to think they were married was something else.

Not something bad. To him, at least. How would Sarah take it?

I don't need to tell her.

Yeah, it wasn't something important. No need to tell her. Back in their room, Sarah was scrolling through her phone, barefoot on the bed.

"Hey" he closed the door "There's water for us to take a shower if we want to"

"Cool" she smiled at him.

The light of the room made Sarah's hair look like melted gold, shiny and beautiful. Rafe extended his hand and caught a silky strand between his fingers. Sarah looked up to him, big brown eyes bearing a strange glint. She looked pretty like that.

So so pretty.

He cleared his throat, letting go of her hair and taking a step back. He shouldn't go there.

"I don't trust the pogues" he said trying to avoid thinking about what his mind was about to think "They want to keep all the gold"

"Well, a part is mine. Ours. So they better not"

Rafe tilted his head.

"What if they did?"

Sarah stopped for a moment, blinking as if trying to come up with an idea, then she shrugged.

"We'd go after them. No killing though" she smirked "I'm gonna hit the shower"

He watched her go to the small bathroom attached to their room, mouth quirked upwards. Then he remembered what he had to do. What he had promised Sarah he would do. Apologize. Just the thing he was worst at.

It wasn't really as hard as he thought it would be, going to the pogues room and knocking at the door. If he was lucky, he would be with Sarah in a moment.

"What are you doing here?" Kiara asked when she opened the door.

"Can I talk to Pope?"

Kiara looked at him in disbelief. Yeah, he couldn't believe it either.

"Why would you want to talk to me?"

He stepped inside the room, all four pogues up on their feet, but the beds were all unmade. They were sleeping, or trying to, but now they were all tense and alert. It was kinda flattering to be honest.

"I wanted to apologize for what I did" he twisted his signet ring "It was wrong. I'm sorry"

Pope and Kiara blinked at him dumfounded, meanwhile John B seemed to not believe a word and JJ was snarling at him. He didn't really care about those two.

"Rafe Cameron apologizing?" JJ snorted "Is the world ending?"

"Are you actually sorry?" Pope squinted his eyes at him, mistrustful.

Rafe couldn't blame him.

"Yeah. I am. You didn't deserve that, if anything I should have attacked JJ"

"Weird apology" Kiara murmured.

"Well, I did it because I was trying to prove a point I think, amongst other things. For putting a gun to Topper's head and all that"

"He was drowning me. That's the reason JJ pulled a gun on him" John B scoffed at him.

"How should I know? I wasn't there, and Topper didn't mention it"

"What are the other reasons?" Pope stepped closer.

"Huh?"

"The other reasons you attacked me"

He twisted the ring again, taking a deep breath.

"I was kinda...very high. And, I don't know, man, shit gets blurry at times. I guess I just wanted to hurt someone and I used every excuse to do it. Sometimes... sometimes I just need the violence"

He didn't miss the JJ looked down, as if he understood. As if he could relate. He didn't miss the way Kiara looked at the blond either.

"Okay"

His eyebrows raised involuntary.

"What?"

"You're willing to help us with the gold to prove you're better now, you're sober. I believe you"

Rafe let out a breath, smiling.

"Are you serious? Pope—"

The four pogues began to argue with one another, but he didn't really care. It was like a great weight was lifted of his shoulders. He was forgiven. Sarah would be so happy.

"I been thinking about the gold, actually. About how to use it legally" he told Sarah his plan already, and she approved. No that he needed her approval, but it was good to have it. "We say you found it in Tannyhill, because I don't think you found it without breaking some laws"

"Breaking and entering" JJ murmured.

"It wasn't very legal, no" Pope agreed.

Rafe didn't even blink, he had been expecting that. He was kinda curious as to where exactly did they find it 400 million in gold, but he didn't ask. Sarah could tell him all the details later.

"And that'll work?"

He shrugged.

"There's a hole in the basement of Tannyhill. It's been there for ages, we can always say the gold was there"

"How big is that hole?"

"Pretty big, Sarah still fits in there. We used to hide there when we played hide and seek"

Something crossed over Pope's face, he didn't want. Maybe he was just doing math. He was the smart one after all.

"How long it's been there?"

"Why does that matter?" JJ blinked confused.

"It could be the original hiding place of the gold. I don't think Denmark Tanny had it always where we found it"

"It was pretty unpractical" Kiara agreed.

He was kinda lost in the conversation, but answered either way. Doing better. Being better.

"According to my mother, it was already there when her father was a child" She used to tell her stories about her childhood, and her father's. She told him stories about so many things. He still missed her. Would he ever stop missing her? "Well... I'll go get some sleep"

Sarah was probably missing him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were already in the Bahamas when she awoke. Sun shining through the small windows of the boat. She shook Rafe, trying to wake him up.

"What?" he asked groggily, eyes opening just a little.

Sarah smiled at the sight. Face pressed against the pillow, strands of dark hair over his half-closed eyes.

"We are in the Bahamas"

That seemed to wake him completely. Rafe sat straight, rubbing his eyes. He looked at her, eyes moving up and down her body.

"I'll get dressed"

Sarah nodded and left the room. The sun burn over her skin as she walked to the Pogues on the docks.

"How are we going to your house?" Asked Kie, watching the people in the docks, slash, bazaar "You have a car or..."

"Yeah"

"Good" JJ said, he had joint between his fingers "The sooner we get this over with, the better"

"Agreed" John B was still not looking at her.

She should probably care about that. She didn't.

"No smoking, JJ" Pope forcibly took the joint and stored it in his pocket "We need you lucid"

"It's not like it makes much of a difference" she commented jokingly.

"Exactly!" JJ extended his hand towards Pope "Give it back!"

Just when Pope was about to concede, Rafe appeared from the behind them fully dressed.

"What are you doing? We need you sober, all of you"

"Oh, come on!"

"You'll have it back once we're in Kildare"

JJ argue with them to have the joint back the whole car ride to their house in the Bahamas. It was just as they left it last winter. It was not as big as Tannyhill, but it had a good size. Good security too. The guard at the door didn't even ask about Ward, thankfully, even though he probably was dying for some information. Most people were.

"Holy shit" JJ whistled when they were inside "I'm buying a house like this one with my share. The parties will be legendary"

"Wow" Pope murmured in agreement "It would probably cost a few millions"

"1.5 million" Rafe corrected  "It's not that much" 

Sarah shook her head as the four pogues stared at her brother like he just said something unbelievable. Maybe he had, though she agreed with him. Tannyhill was way more expensive than that.

"Let's go get the gold"

"Yeah, but you four stay here" her brother ordered as he started climbing up the stairs.

"Why?"

"I don't want you to learn how to open the safe" he shrugged.

"Right. Or you want to keep the gold all to yourself" she had not realized before that JJ had a cut on his lips.

"Why would you I bring you here then?"

"To kill us" Pope supplied, looking slightly alert.

"Calm down, guys" Sarah followed her brother upstairs "I'll go with him"

"And you are trustworthy?" John B asked, bitterness lacing his tone.

"I trust her"

They started arguing again, about whether she was trustworthy or not. Sarah shared a look with her brother before they entered the office. The safe was kept in Ward's former office, just like in Tannyhill. It was a tall, rectangular, iron box. Almost as tall as Rafe. 

Sarah's heart was beating wildly in her chest. She smiled at her brother, reassuringly, as he worked to open the safe.

"Jackpot" he whispered when the door opened.

It was blinding, the sight of all the gold bars placed neatly inside the safe. So much gold. Sarah screeched happily.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" she couldn't help but jump around the room.

"Holy shit!" her brother laughed.

It was a laugh of joy, of relief. It meant that he could breathe again, that they were saved. Without a warning, Rafe held her in his arms and spun her around. Sarah giggled happily, feeling a little dizzy, and a little sad, when he put her down. They stared at each other, panting and smiling, euphoric. And then Rafe leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. 

Oh.

He held her in place, his hand on the back of her neck, for a few seconds. So many seconds. So little time. She didn't mind.  Then he let her go, and she stumbled backwards, wide-eyed and confused. Heat rose to her cheeks. She couldn't talk. She couldn't—

What just happened?

"Guys!" Kie's voice boomed around the corridor and she appeared through the door, her eyes landing on the gold "Oh, my God. It's here! All of it. Yes!"

The rest of the Pogues heard their exclamations and joined them with their owns. All happy, all celebrating. Rafe avoided her gaze, but she didn't stop searching for it. Searching for answers. She got none.

[glngrbred]

Ok, Reblog To wrap up this one, Thanks for the feedback, I apreciate it. If something I say is a based on feedback, it'll have 2** next to it. This is also a super long post, so TLDR, yall R right! and I don't disagree with you, but I am still changing counterspells for my game. Also if you only want some important informationa bout my game and exactly why some changes needed to be made, at the very end I talk about some important things specifically and only relevent when talking about MY GAME IM MAKING. the rest is a more broad look. First some clarifications,

I initially wanted to talk about My descision to remove counterspells from my card game, and the Way I did that was by talking about some issues with counterspells in MTG. Unfortunately I did not effectively convey that, which is MY B. **(thank you @ouraois). Right now, I have a descision to make about countermagic in my game, and the issues with them in magic are what I want to avoid for the design of my game

I was ranting about counterspells, because I wanted to talk about why I've decided to limit their function in my card game. I sort of rage-baited, and said things like "force all control decks" which is obviously false, the best deck, lantern control, is not about counterspells whatsoever.

I also said that counterspells are "bad design", but I don't really mean that.** Counterspells both "fix" and enable a design issue. The issue is uninteractive win-cons, and also combo decks. single cards that often straight up win the game should simply not be made, but they are really cool, and fun for whoever's using them so "just counter it" becomes the design solution. thats actually a problem in MTG, since not every color has access to removal on the stack. counterspells and uninteractive wincons become beat 'em or join 'em. (for slow formats, big costly win the game things dont work as well if agro is good)

But what else are you supposed to do when designing high-cost cards? (i actually have a fix for that in my game but its weird, so i'll get to that at the very end, it also explains some of the reasons why i CAN't have mtg style counterspells in my game specifically, even if i wanted to)

the same is true to a lesser extent with combos, which is why Legends of Runtera avoids combos. I don't think I'll be able to avoid combos, and I don't think I'll be able to patch out a combo, I'm a single person with no coding experience and some cardboard...

In either case, its sort of like an auriboros, where counterspells fix the issue of cards ending the game unsatasfyingly, but then counterspells are unsatasfying. Power creep makes creatures who are made to "interact" with hard-to-compete-with removal spells, and then those counterspells become more important to slow down those big guys. And since typical removal can't deal with those uninteractive win cons, Counters become necessary (kill spells vs counters triangle) ** (thank you @almaignismare) I could probably explain this better. Design space is freed by counterspells existing, but what is made available in the new design space isnt necissarily healthy for the game.

In magic, players expect both counterspells and things you have to counterspell. but in my game, there is not that expectation yet, I think that there is a more healthy space focused around damage, protection, and card disadvantage that I could create for my game, which would not necessitate counterspells.

before I talk about that tho, I want to finish talking about MTG with a little note. Counterspells are the only way blue has effective card removal, the other removal-like options that designers have attemptes with blue are bounce and stun counters. Both of these are not effectively removing a card, and as such are kind of just card disadvantage. Because of this, the only real way for a blue deck to have removal is to counter stuff ** (thank you @gcu-sovereign) But colors not having good access to removal isnt immidiately bad. black has a hard time with artifacts and enchantments, but fucks with creatures, white is great at alot removal but struggles with interaction, red has a hard time with straight up removing cards, green struggles with creatures, and blue doesn't really have a card type struggle, but it struggles with interacting with the board state. Blue just has to counter stuff, or it won't be able to remove things.

So what's the point? If I included countermagic as it is in MTG, it would not work with my game's ecosystem. The 2 mana counterspell that just straight up removes a card is overpowered for a game where interaction is normally based on doing the oposite of an effect to minimize the downside. At the moment, my game only exists as sets of precons, and in every one of them, the removal of cards is either A. expensive in order to be perfectly effective, like a 5 mana kill spell for any target. B. Able to be easily interacted with, like a 1 mana recuring ping that can only recur if something died (any buff on it's target neuters it) C. Technically temporary, bounce is actually really fun, since it slows down the victem without removing their plan. Or D. Sets up a little side quest that removes the effect. I have an effect called "root" which makes something kinda just die until whatever is rooting it is removed.

Counterspells don't easily fit into any category if they are MTG style. They cannot be expensive, or they would only be for late game. (or they would slow you down alot, not just your opponent) They cannot be easily interacted with, since there's a very limited variety of ways they can be prevented, You can actually make them temporary, but you have to change some rules to make it work (i'll get to that) Or you could make them set up a sidequest? like, you could reasonably have the countered card attach to a creature, and then when that creature dies the card goes back to its owner, This also enables some creative deckbuilding.

For my game, I've made counterspells either be temporary, by sending the card to "exile"the outlands", which cards can recur themselves from if enough cards enter the outlands, or counterspells just get rid of resources but not the card (an effect that just gets rid of the card would just be discard). Or finaly, the counter sets up a sidequest.

I also want to avoid limiting counterspells to one color, specifically as the engine of a control deck. When counterspells have limited effects, or are designed to specifically counter one meta game plan, they are a beutiful thing. I love "counter target ability" or whatever that one card does (I forgot its name.)

To avoid going too in depth, I do have colored mana as a core system of my game, I have 4 colors and a neutral. But I'm trying to avoid limiting gameplans to certain colors, I'm moreso limiting the color pie to different mechanics between each color. So hopefully all of the modes of operation will be available to each color, but the means will be very thematic. I also have a different wincon compared to MTG, which is a work in progress but enables this also.

The final thing I wanted to talk about was mana. Typically, a 10 cost card would have to justify spending 10 mana by getting you realy close to wining the game on its own, or somehow making it virtually impossible for you to lose. likeomnicience doesn't win on its own, but once its there you're golden.

This is the very last thing.

In my game, I started the design by making a cute little mana system that uses these physical tokens to permenently track mana, so you can just hold on to recources as long as you want, its like if spell mana from Legends of runeterra was extended to be the whole mana system. Because of this, high cost spells can be cast much earlier by sacrificing you early game plays in favour of savign up for a big thing. Becausse of this, you can budget your resources to play a big thing that enables a super stong game plan, without winning, without putting yourself behind, so long as the big card makes up for the 1, 2, 3, and 4 cost you didn't play in its place.

you might beable to notice that countermagic, and holding up interaction inherently break this system, since not spending your man is no longer a downside..... THIS is actually like the main, important, design restraint that forces me to look at counterspells very critically, but it doesn't make sense as an explanation of the issue on its own

Counterspells are a toxic game mechanic that manopolize interaction slots and force all control decks to play very similarly.

they also have the problem of being much easier to use than targeted discard and ""stax"" (the broadest possible term, and only 'harder' to an extent :/). I think the only times you should be able to effectively counter an effect on the stack/being played are to counter a literal spell, like instants and sorceries, since the only ways to have "spell removal" are hand interaction, which is obviously only ok when limited, and counterspells. I straight up think that no creature or artifact/enchantment counterspells should exist in a healthy card game, because those other mechanics should be inherently interactable-enough to not necessitate counterspells, and the shear dominance of counterspells as the vehicle of control decks in MTG is evidence enough that they aren't good for a game.

also the reason I care is because I'm making a card game, and effects like counterspells are something you have to choose to have at some point, since they MANOPOLIZE DESIGN SPACE >:()

if you want to see an example of counterspells used well, play the game "unstable unicorns" which is entirely Balanced around counterspells, exclusively. but even then, you have to entirely balance the game around counterspells, exclusively

Also this isn't to say "counterspells bad :(" they have a place, and that place is in games who have not balanced the power of "instantly accessible" effects (so that counterspells aren't necessary). like yeah, craterhoof behemoth and Ghalta often can't be interacted with outside of counterspells, cuz once they ETB you win the game

that is bad design and necessitates the creation, use, and frustration of counterspells. Also, designers only want to make cards like "that" if they can say "just counter it" its just an unhealthy system that necessitates itself existing the moment you let counterspells be anything more than the most simple and direct "spell removal" effects.

thats all

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been picking mostly only the essential flirt options with lucanis in the romance so far (I've personally found the dynamic much more natural and mutual when you do that, more like forming a solid friendship slowly and inevitably becoming something else and less like you keep pushing on him and getting little back b/c he seemingly just gets overwhelmed and goes into freeze instead), and I think rye is a pretty hard person to read at the best of times even though he's been Down Real Bad from pretty early on and their chemistry as people is naturally really good. so the way the almost-kiss plays out in this playthrough feels a lot like it has the added layer of lucanis realizing that no but for sure rook is flirting and not just being kind or a good friend* it IS actually happening it's not just wishful/fearful thinking!!! and then uh. maybe going a bit too hard a bit too fast in all the excitement at that revelation haha

*in lucanis' defense he has seemingly literally never had a friend who wasn't his cousin-brother before, under those circumstances I suppose some confusion is extremely natural if not outright expected lmao

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[sskk-manifesto]

!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[diluc33rpm]

the romance/relationship system in bg3 is genuinely some of the worst designed shit i've ever seen in any game with that feature but at least the memes we get out of it are funny. once saw someone comment something along the lines of 'patch note: waving at gale will no longer cause him to buy a house for the two of you to retire in' and i've never recovered since

[quietwingsinthesky]

even has killed people—though perhaps that depends on your definition of people—and it’s not. how do i put it. it’s never cool, you know? it’s never a moment where this puts them in control of a situation, where they can show off some skill in putting someone down. because even is not, generally, very powerful, and they do not know how to do this.

it just gets messy.

which is one of those terrible reasons why they… well, they don’t like the master, but they have to like that she can do it easy, quick, clean. she can give even the ability to, as well, when she wants. if for no other reason than it means that they won’t have to scrub it raw off their skin later, they appreciate that.