#almost nobody will get this so i will explain

[dearestcameron]

❝ Everybody Knows That I’m A Good Girl, Officer ❞

- 𝖱． 𝖢𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗇 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐀𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐎𝐰𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤

based off this audio:

sypnosis: Police officer! Rafe goes to arrest reader for a few crimes in Kildare but she resists and makes him a offer he can’t refuse | warnings: degrading words, rough sex, car sex, slight sir kink, doggystyle, backshots, spanking, hair pulling, choking, missionary, blowjob, mention of drugs and drug dealing

．．．

𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽！！

📞 … “Kildare County Sheriffs Office, how can I help you?”

Phones at the Sheriffs Office rang off the hook, daily.

As Rafe- Officer Cameron, was about to clock out for the day, Shoupe needed him to complete one more task.

He threw the file down on his desk.

It read: Y/N L/N.

“Y/N L/N. She’s the reason so many freaks are going off the hooks crazy on drugs. The drug dealing princess.“ Shoupe said.

’Princess’ He thought, rolling his eyes.

He continued, “I need you to go to her home, arrest her and bring her in for questioning. Her address is listed on the first page.” Shoupe explained, walking out without saying another word.

Arriving at the listed address, the house looked normal, not what Rafe thought it would look like.

You was outside on her front, smoking a pack that was supposed to be for her latest customer.

You put out her blunt, tossing it on the ground as she watched the black cop car pull up in her yard.

Rafe stepped out of his car, handcuffs gripped in his right hand.

You had on a white dress with white heels, her H/C hair brushed to perfection.

You weren’t your typical dealer.

He wasn’t your typical policeman either.

Perfectly buzzed hair, straight out of the academy.

“Miss L/N?” He asked, clearly, assertive.

“Yeah?” Your voice was like an angels, sweet, innocent, no where near what Shoupe described you to be.

He walked closer to you. Turning you around, attempting to put handcuffs on her wrists.

“You’re under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law-“

“Wait, wait, wait, officer. What am i being arrested for?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“12 charge of drugging, drug dealing, and assault.” He said keeping calm, knowing this job would be over soon.

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, Officer.“ You said.

There was undoubtedly tension between the two. Your short white dress rising up, her ass peeking out.

He took that into notice.

“Wait.“ You said a little too calm, grabbing her wrists out of his hold, turning around to face him.

“Let me make you a deal, first..“

“For every ‘charge’ your boss has on me, you get to use me in any way you want, but afterwards you let me go..“ You finished, a glittering glimmer in her eye．

He pondered on this deal with a smirk on his face

Reaching out shaking his hand out, shaking yours, he said..

“Deal.“

~

Screams and slaps echoed through the forest around them.

You was beant over his cop car. One leg thrown across the hood of his car.

Your frilly white dress rolled up her hips, lacy pink panties discarded, thrown to the side.

He was roughly pounding into your pussy from behind.

“God, who knew you were such a slut. You’re loving this dick aren’t you.“ He asked, his hand grabbing her hair tightly, pulling your head back.

You were choked up. Nobody made you feel this good.

“Aren’t you“ he asked angrily. Smacking your ass.

“Y-yes, Officer Cameron.“

The good thing about living on a back road is, there aren’t many cars passing, but their are the occasional few that start to ride by in groups.

You noticed those cars riding by and shifted her position.

“R- Rafe- Officer, cars are coming.“ You spoke in a whisper almost too soft to hear as he contiuously pounded into her.

“I don’t care who see’s, princess.“

“B-but-“ She added.

He pulled her by you hair, annoyed, sliding out of you abrubtly.

“Get down on your knees.“ He said, assertive once again.

His long cum coated cock sprung in front of your face. It was thick and long with a curve to the left.

It was wayy longer than the normal crackhead’s dick you were used too.

"Since I can’t fuck you now.“ He said followed by an eye roll. “Suck."

You looked up at him, greedily leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his cock.

He wraps his fingers in your hair and shoving himself fully into your mouth.

His swollen red tip, hitting the back of your throat.

You hold the base of his cock with your left hand, bobbing your head up and down his length at a fast pace.

Drool started to run down the sides of your mouth, as you gagged on his cock.

You're a drooling, gagging mess.

Rafe started to thrust brutally into your mouth. You feel his thrusts grow sloppy, his hips stuttering as he races after his high.

You feel his dick twitch in your mouth. Ropes of cum flowed into your mouth. Followed by a string a of ’fuck’s.

You swallow his load sticking your tongue out with your eyes closed. Showing him you swallowed his load.

“Yur’ a good slut for me, aren’t you princess?“ He asked with a slight chuckle, amazed at your work.“

“Yes, sir.“

His tall figure peered over his. Still seeing cars speed pass.

Rafe opens his car door. “Get in.”

You rise up off the grass, onto your feet. Ducking as you get into the car.

“Lay down.”

“Eager are we?” You asked getting cocky.

“You need this more than me, princess” He said with a scoff.

After she lays on her back, he slowly slides back into her.

Picking back up on his brutal pace.

The windows fogged as the car rocked with every thrust.

“Rafe, I’m so close!“ You spoke, in almost a moan.

“No, not yet. Slut’s like you don’t get to cum yet.“

The tip of his cock hit your spot with every spot.

You let out a porn-worthy moan throwing her head back. “Beg, beg for me to let you cum.“

He gripped your throat with one hand while the other held the car ceiling, hips still pistoning in and out of her.

“Please let me cum, Rafe.“ You let out, gasping for air.

“That’s Officer Cameron to you.“

“P-please, Officer Cameron. I- I need- please let me cum.“

“Since you asked so nicely, go ahead princess.“

You came all over his cock, right before he pulled out, shooting his cum all on her tits.

Sweat bullets dripped down his forehead as he reached into his car console.

Pulling out the file he had gotten from Shoupe.

“Come on, now why don’t you show me your bedroom. You still have 9 charges to clear.“

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫. (𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭 - 𝐍𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐚) 😘

[demonic0angel]

Jason joins Dani in being forced to have a check up by Frost Bite by Danny and Jazz. They commiserate on having ghost health problems.

(I went in a slightly different direction on this)

Jason sighed. Jazz patted his knee and kissed his forehead before saying, “It’ll be okay, dearest. Sit tight, I’ll go get Frostbite, alright?”

Jason huffed again but nodded. He ignored the scathing glare from the teen next to him. Jazz left and Jason sat in silence in the room next to the seething teen. He felt tired and prickly, like the cold air was getting sucked into his body. After a while of looking around the room and cataloguing everything, he asked, “So… what’re you in here for?”

“Why was Jazz kissing you?” The girl asked angrily. Jason glanced at her and observed her features, noting the heart shaped face, the sharp eyes, and delicate features with a hint of wildness.

He squinted. “Are you Jazz’s sister?”

The girl, Dani or Ellie he realized now, sneered. “Yes. Are you dating Jazz?”

“Yeah,” he said carefully. “We’re dating.”

Dani huffed, crossed her arms, and then answered, “I’m here for a checkup. I got into a fight recently and used too much power, so Danny made me come here so Frostbite could check me over too. What’re you here for?”

“Jazz said that the ectoplasmic rot in my soul was getting better,” he said, trying to recall what Jazz had explained to him before, “but I still need to be looked at because my case is a little uncommon.”

Dani nodded. “Yeah, mine too. My genetic makeup is unstable, so I can’t use my powers too much or for too long. I’m weak, but I have to try.”

Jason blinked. “Weak? You seem pretty strong to me. And that’s not a compliment because you’re my in-law. What do you mean by genetic makeup?”

Dani scowled, but she also looked pleased. She explained softly, “My creator, Danny’s enemy, made me to be an assassin and replacement. But… he messed up when he created me. I was supposed to be Danny’s clone. But I think Vlad didn’t have the heart to kill me using the portal like what happened to himself and Danny… so I’m unstable. He couldn’t stand to hurt me when he made me, but he had no problems trying to erase me later… and he’s the one who made me weak.”

Something dark flashed over her face, something like love and rage and regret and something that Jason related to like two people with holes in their hearts.

He chuckled humorlessly. “I kinda get it. I got killed. I was being stupid. I wanted to find my mom and she sold me out to the Joker.” He smiled, amused, as Dani hissed at the mention of the clown. “I was tortured and then when I tried to save my mom one last time… I was killed in a final explosion. I was forgotten. Almost nobody went to my funeral. I was buried and remembered only as a “good soldier,” and when I woke up in that coffin… I clawed myself out and was basically a zombie. Then I got tossed into a Lazarus Pit and I was trained to be an assassin too.”

He gave Dani a small smile, who just stared at him. “And you know what’s worse? When I came back to my senses, I found out that my dad didn’t even avenge me. The Joker is still alive, just killing other people. Taking other people away from their families. My dad didn’t even care about me. He slit my throat and saved the Joker when I gave him the chance, even though he used to tell me that he would never abandon me. So I kinda get it. Especially about a dad who made you, gave you everything, and when you finally did what you had to and completed your mission, he abandoned you for a better model. That’s what happened to you too, right?”

Dani nodded slowly. She looked at her hands and kicked her feet idly. “And now we’re fucked up because of them.”

Jason snorted. “Fuck dads. That’s what we have siblings for.”

A smile bloomed over her face. “Yeah. Fuck dads! That’s why we have big brothers and sisters!”

“We’ll be okay, squirt,” Jason grinned as he reached over and ruffled her hair. She immediately gave a cry of outrage, batting away his hands, but he continued, “We’ll make it through this. After all, we’re survivors, right?”

Dani gave him a critical look and then nodded. And after that, they sat together in amicable silence until Dani grew him into another conversation. When Frostbite finally entered, Jason didn’t feel so terrible anymore. After all, he had someone here who also related to him.

[mohntilyet]

discovered the first other asian dragon age fans i’ve ever seen through ur asian dellamortes art (which i owe u my life for)!! ur doing the makers work. one silver lining to the Thing About Asians in thedas is that if they ‘don’t exist’ we can put them anywhere. i’ll start: every nevarran. no death rituals go harder than asian death rituals. plus emmrich was born to be chinese there is nothing we love more than longevity, gold, and academic prowess. 新年快乐！！sry for the ramble im just hype to see someone who has Same Thoughts 🤩🤩

AUGH OK. SORRY TO THROW ALL THESE ASKS TOGETHER BUT HIIII.!!!!! it's been so sweet to see so many asian fans in the tags and the reblogs, LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH. gaider may never ever take away the ability to project from us

FULL DISCLOSURE i am south asian but grew up in east asia (yes. i did bomb every chinese dictation i ever participated in while at school) but yes omg!!!! happy new year!!!! i miss celebrating lunar new year so bad and the celebrations around it like if i don't get lai see i'll die (<- guy who is far too old to be receiving lai see anymore)

AND THE EMMRICH THING. ACTUALLY SCREAMED OUTLOUD LOL YOU ARE SO FUCKING REALLLLL. it does make me think of grave sweeping (qingming iirc) and i know bioware is obviously trying to invoke a somewhat egyptian thing (mummification, tombs, etc) but not if it's me. not if it's my asian dragon age

[choccy-zefirka]

Our Latest Book Club Meeting

[Before we begin: Rook is a Qunari Shadow Dragon with some self-worth issues going on]

Attending: Bellara, Neve, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich (also Taash, and Davrin, sort of)

Book: Adventures of Dolor the Daring, Volume 48, by I. L. Literatus (chosen by Neve)

Notes taken by: Bellara

Notes:

Bellara (me) was quite surprised (and also excited!!!) that Neve chose a crime serial, as she seemed skeptical about those before

Neve admitted that she selected the book not for the plot, not really (though she was complimentary of it, especially Dolor’s final confrontation with the corrupt magister), but because she suspects the author might be… Rook!

Lucanis was first to break the stunned silence afterwards; asked why she thinks that

“Any excuse to hear me talk, hmm, Lucanis?” oh this one is good, must write that down Neve explained that it’s “rather suspicious how the mysterious I. L. Literatus took an extended break from writing the moment we all got tangled up in Solas’ mess, and then showed up again, just as Rook got injured in that fight with the Antaam and had to take a bit of downtime”

Bellara (me) pointed out that it could be a coincidence (mostly to try and ground myself for disappointment, because WOULDN’T IT BE INCREDIBLE IF ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE WROTE ONE OF MY FAVORITE SERIALS). Sorry

Harding joined in; recalled how the rooftop chase between two burning buildings was almost an exact match for how she, Rook and Varric hurried to rescue Neve on the day when… things happened. Down to the shortcuts they took!

Neve added another detail: apparently, she and Rook were once looking for clues in Docktown, and Rook paused to look up at the sky and say that it looked like a “miserable grey towel that the black claws of the Archon’s palace would not stop wringing”. This was the same description as in the serial’s opening scene! Neve never forgets a thing, she is amazing

Lucanis conceded: he was more convinced now. Realized that “Scorpion”, a mysterious cloaked figure who helps Dolor investigate evil mages, might have been inspired by Viper.

Bellara (me) also realized something! Viper is in the story, but Tarquin isn’t! That’s because the Venatori already know about him, from rumors at least, so mentioning him in a serial in passing would not compromise him… But nobody knows about Tarquin! Rook is protecting him!

Taash was passing by on their way upstairs; but stopped and said, more or less (with a lot more “vashedan” thrown in): “Nah, I read a couple those. Hid them in my Advanced Qunlat textbook so I’d look smart when my mother checked on me. That can’t be Rook. Dolor is nonbinary too, but Lit-Whatsit keeps saying that they always knew who they were, were always confident about that. Rook wasn’t always confident. They struggled, like me.”

Neve disagreed. Noted that Dolor might not be a one-on-one copy of Rook, but an idealized version with all the “right” feelings Rook wished they had. Also listed all the places where Dolor gets excited to play their role as a fighter against cultists and blood mages, and the city’s protector. They are human, an everyday citizen of Minrathous who fits in so very well among everyone… But that’s a very Qunari way of putting it. And that’s something that always bothered Rook.

 Some notes had to be copied over at this point, because the “OH!” sound Harding made toppled over some of our mugs, and they spilled all over the paper! Maybe the stone floor reacted to her? No harm done, really! (Harding, stop worrying)

Harding put things together and asked Neve if I. L. Literatus, or Illiteratus, means anything in Tevene. Neve confirmed it means what it sounds like in Trade: Illiterate. Rook must have a very low opinion of their writing skills (doodle of a sad Bellara face)

Davrin (??? He said he wouldn’t be joining, he had more important things to do, like train Assan??? But there he was???) walked (or sauntered! sauntered is a good word! swaggered even!) up to the table. Asked: “If the author is Rook, and Dolor is Rook but without all their worst thoughts, then what do we make of Flosculus?”

On Flosculus! Bellara (me that is, it’s getting awkward talking in third person for so long) wrote this down while there was another long, long pause. He is a new character that just got introduced in this volume. An older lowborn mage that worked hard to earn a place in the Minrathous Circle, despite the contempt from the greedy, cruel Altus nobles that Dolor usually defeats on their adventures. He is very tall, only a “hand’s length” below an average Qunari warrior (which is just about the height difference between Rook and Emmrich), and his face “might have been fairly good-looking when he was younger, but was chiseled into an elegant, dignified handsomeness with age… Truly, time had treated him with the same kindness as he treated those around him”. I really liked him; he does remind me a lot of Emmrich, with his love for flowers, and his wealth of advice on all things arcane, and his eagerness to see the best in people… And you (well, me at least) can’t help but notice how the story, which is usually all about magic duels and human sacrifices and screaming matches with crazy cultists on top of piles of bones, grows softer whenever he is on the page. Like stepping in from a hailstorm to a cozy room with a burning hearth. But then… then, at the very end of the volume, Dolor realizes that they have been developing a crush on him, and decides never to tell him about it because he does not like them back. Which the author praises them for because it’s “the right thing to do”. Dolor always knows the right thing to do.

Book club meeting adjourned here. No dice were thrown to decide who’s next. Because Emmrich, first very pale and then very pink, got up without a word and ran off somewhere.

THAT BETTER BE TOWARDS ROOK’S ROOM!

Sorry.

[lemonmint-the-neko]

not allowed. just... no. /ref

explain your gender in 10 words or less without using boring words like “male”, “female”, “nonbinary”, “masculine”, “feminine” or “androgynous”.

go!

[puppppppppy]

footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia

[apocalypticdemon]

I am so beyond ready to quit this job. Wednesday cannot come fast enough.

[rileylastname]

extreme sensitivity and difficulty adapting to change is one of the most challenging parts of being autistic (to me, i am only speaking my for myself here, every single autistic person is different). small changes, even positive changes are liable to cause a meltdown. the world is such a scary place when you know that things changing, as all things do, could send you into a spiral. and it’s so difficult to explain to allistics why we’re reacting the way that we do, especially when you know it seems like an overreaction... but this is how i describe it:

you know that feeling when you got a haircut that you hated and were doing everything you could to hold back the tears? that “oh no oh no oh no” moment when you look in the mirror and realize you hate how it looks, and now there’s a sob bubbling up in your throat and you’re trying so hard to choke it back down so that you don’t cry in public but the more you look the harder it feels to bottle it all in?

i feel and often react that way to everyday situations and changes. i cut my nails a little bit shorter than I’m used to? meltdown. or we got a new toaster to replace the old one? meltdown. or my phone updated and everything is different? meltdown and now i can’t stop crying! (these are all real examples of real things from my real life that caused me to have real meltdowns btw.) and in the midst of my stress i can’t help but berate myself for losing it over something like that, and of course shame and self-loathing only exacerbate the meltdown.

i am constantly trying to work through my internalized ableism about this. I spent years being called dramatic and immature, confused about why i was unable to grapple with things my peers found entirely inconsequential. i wish that i didn’t feel guilty or embarrassed about the way that i naturally react to stressful situations (especially situations that are probably not nearly all that stressful to allistics) because I know that if I could hate myself into becoming someone I liked better, it would have worked by now.

[coco0milkshake]

Gonna be spreading my ‘Rusty befriends and takes care of Nine’ propaganda because I REFUSE to believe they leave him alone in the Grim

[fettery-fetterie]

GIRL HELP WDYM I REACHED 30 TAGS??????? OMG???? I WASN'T EVEN DONE YET

ANYWAYS 31st: and that compared to a relationship where the communication lines are basically none or very fucking weak then yeah it is an upgrade I think. Idfk I was never in a relationship I'm just picking from the ones I've seen in my life

[neon-moon-beam]

Did these aspects of the story of Legends: Arceus negatively impact your experience with the game?

[thedreadvampy]

thought too hard about my adolescence made myself sad 🥲

[valeriehalla]

I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.

I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:

the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and

the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.

Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.

Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.

In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!

And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”

That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.

Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.

It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.

The vibe with “Saki” is different.

It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.

There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.

So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.

The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.

Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???

Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????

[ame-to-ame]

Oh this sucks

[mosspapi]

I'm realizing now that I think a big part of the reason I've felt so "mean" or "rude" or "disrespectful" the last few months is I'm simply not masking. I've almost forgotten I even 'should' be bcuz my brain is just not working the same anymore. And if I DO remember it's smth I 'should' be doing,I don't have the energy or mental capacity to try and figure out what tone to use or what people r wanting from me or what's socially acceptable, so I'm just using my normal tone. Which is flat and monotone and blunt and apparently a little aggressive. Which is. Not ideal

[thephantomsdream]

"If you keep staring at me like that, I'll have to ask you what are we?" Imagine being the witness of a serious crime, but the team thought you were involved somehow and needed to rule you out. Cue to big, scary, mysterious, masked Ghost trying to intimidate you by existing near you.

Soap snorts and pats Ghost on the back, which earns a glare from him, all after the man blinked confused. He had pretty eyes. Gaz moves to a corner to smile way too much, and Price sighs loudly.

After a few more minutes of explaining that you were just on your way to your shitty job and that they needed to wrap this up before you are to inevitably getting fired, Ghost still looks straight into your soul, now with more intensity somehow.

At this point, you grit your teeth. You might legit not have a job after this, since you're already half an hour late, and this (weirdly cute) fucker is trying to read your thoughts.

"Oh, you're really into me, aren't you?" He blinks seemingly uninterested and you raise a brow at him, starting a staring contest until Price (as he previously introduced himself) got in between you two.

"I don't think you understand the situation that you're in." It took all of your will to not groan like a child and roll your eyes at him.

Cue to another round of you doubling down and explaining that you're extremely lame but a good person, all while Gaz still looks you up.

"She might be telling the truth, boss." He whispered to Price in the corner of the abandoned shop they broke onto to have some privacy. The man has been trying to confirm your identity all this time, meanwhile you looked up at your number one fan to say "I told you so" and gave him an exasperated sigh when you already caught him intensely staring into your eyes.

"Seriously..." You mutter and you almost believe seeing a crinkle of amusement in his eyes. Your eyes almost twitched. "I pronounce us husband and wife." You say, rolling your eyes at him. Yeah, take that, fuck-face. You childishly thought, absolutely thriving at his slow, surprised blink. Soap cackled and tried to hide it with a cough.

Long story (not) short, you were indeed let go after Gaz confirmed you're broke, lame and basic. No secret villain or anything. After they kinda apologized, Price basically tried to gaslight you into thinking everything is fine then tried to dip his toes into mansplaining the importance of greater things beyond you, he nodded to himself and patted you on the back before barking an order to his soldiers to move. Pretty brown eyes stayed glued onto your soul until you were pretty much skipping away out of sight, rushing to your job incredibly annoyed.

You couldn't really explain your absence to your boss and he didn't care much either, he told you to get to work.

Surprise, surprise, though, because at the end of your shift, he sugarly informed you that you're fired. He gave you the pay he owed you and there you were. Jobless. And probably homeless in a month's time.

A week later and some intense job hunting done, you're at your wit's end, truly. Job market is shit and nobody is looking to hire. As you enter your ratty apartment, you sigh and almost want to cry in frustration. You've been cursing the terrorists, soldiers and any motherfucker involved in last week's incident, entering your kitchen to grab a drink and eat some air since you needed to save money, when you froze in place.

In the middle of your tiny living room stood a massive dark frame, the outside lights shining through the balcony door behind him made the man unrecognizable. You were getting robbed. You just caught a dude right in the middle of robbing you. As if it was the cherry on top, every frustration you felt erupted out of you, and while you were still terrified by the massive frame, you growled a "Get the fuck out of my house."

A deep chuckle was your only response and you felt dread.

"You got spunk. And a shit survival instinct." He stepped closer. You stepped back immediately, calculating your route to the door, hoping he wouldn't be able to catch you. Denial. You knew. But you froze again in surprise. You knew that mask.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" It came more of a whisper, thinking you'd never meet those people again. Even standing up in front of him, he's massive. Maybe he came back for those dumbass comments you made. Oh, this is revenge, isn't it? He's built, he can legit destroy you with a punch. Oh, God, you're fucking dead. They still think you're a terrorist or some shit and he's here to destroy you out of existence.

Your mind rambled until he moved, and when he did, you tensed, mind blank. The man, the Ghost took a couple of steps towards you and placed his large hand on the back of your neck, pulling you close. Oh, you're gonna fucking die for sure. He leaned down to your eye level, making you stare into his dark eyes as he studied you.

"Came back to take care of my wife." He said. It was your turn to slowly blink at him. What?