#you little fuckin insomniac

[p0etic-l0ser]

Bill: Truth or dare?

Stanley: Truth

Bill: How many hours have you slept this week?

Stan: Dare

Bill: Go to sleep

Stan: I don't like this game

[koolades-world]

can i have the om brothers dealing with insomniac+workaholic!mc? Diavolo made a grave fucking mistake when unwillingly inviting mc to the devildom. can't sleep? work. bored? work. have nothing else to do? ask Lucifer or Diavolo for more work to do, or maybe cook something for Beel.

also, insomnia isn't easy to deal with. they have to pull out the strongest sleep potion or magic out there for that fucker to sleep. "oh have you tried melatonin?" YES I HAVE?? I'VE TRIED- "do you turn off your lights when you go to sleep?" no, i sleep with the lights on-- OF COURSE I TURN OFF THE LIGHTS YOU FUCKIN BALL LICKER. "maybe stop being on that phone of yours at late at night.." I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP SO I MIGHT AS WELL DO SOMETHING.

whenever mc runs out of things to do, they re-do an assignment that got less than a 100% score.. someone drag this dymbfuck away from their work..

can i be🍷anon? or glass-eater anon? :3

hello!! yes, of course

those are both amazing anon names haha, welcome to the anon crew

enjoy <3

Workaholic Insomniac Mc

Lucifer

you can bet both of yall are making eye contact in the hallway at four am, and neither of you have slept

he gets you bestie

however he's willing to acknowledge both of you are practicing an unhealthy habit

together, you can take days off and as much as you itch to do work, you can stop each other. what a fun bonding activity!

Mammon

this is just like dealing with lucifer so he knows the drill

let you work as much as you want during the day without shirking your other responsibilities, but after dinner, he's dragging you away from it by the back of your shirt

when he can't fall asleep, he goes for a night drive, to nowhere in particular

so, he always invites you, because he knows you can't say no to him

Levi

he's also almost always awake at odd hours of the night, so he's always available

he would not be great to work in the same room as though

however he is willing to get you away from your work for a while to play some games with him

he knows that you need time away from that paper work and as much as you want to go back to it, he'll keep you with him until you complete the level. mark his word haha

Satan

will help you make those sleeping potions, or has solomon make some for you

if you ever want help with your work, he's willing to lend a hand, even though he knows you almost always say no

whenever you're awake at night, he'll come and sit where ever you're sitting to read so you'll have company

more often than not, he and belphie are next to you while you work as a silent indicator of what, or who, is waiting for you when you're done or want to take a break

Asmo

he fully believes in relaxing before bed and since he loves it so much, he suggests you try it with him

the first night you tried didn't really go as planned because he got a little overexcited so you had to try again the next night

that goes much better, and while it wasn't instant sleep, it was certainly better than staring at the ceiling for hours

plus, you get to spend time with asmo! who doesn't want that?

Beel

he won't lie he does enjoy the occasional impromptu meal you make for him when you've really got no more work to do (which is rare)

but he's concerned about you

honestly he thinks you're just like lucifer, you sincerely care about those around you and you work with them in mind

if you ever find random refreshments on your desk in the few moments you were gone, just know it was probably him

Belphie

as the self proclaimed king of sleep, he's always going out of his way to try and help you out

sometimes he falls asleep on your bed waiting for you to join him, while satan is still somehow going strong with his reading

if he notices you sitting at your desk for far too long, he'll start to whine and complain until you get in bed with him

sometimes, while he feels guilty, he'll use his power to help you fall asleep faster and give you a sweet dream that's usually about him

[archangeldyke-all]

Hii Angel! I was wondering if you could do sev comforting reader from a nightmare? I had a really bad one and i’ve been awake for hours because it was so sickening. Or maybe sev with an insomniac reader? Whichever you want!! Thank you for taking time out to read this!

of course! nightmares suck, i hope this can help you sleep soundly tonight :)

men and minors dni

you wake up with a gasp

the moment your eyes snap open, the images from your nightmare fade into oblivion. the fear remains though, the terror pumping through your body, the shaking in your hands, the tears in your eyes.

you take a sharp breath, trying to steady yourself but unable to manage.

beside you, sevika stirs.

"baby?" she mumbles. you take another shaky breath.

"g-go back to bed, babe, 'm okay." you whisper.

sevika hums, and then, she's sitting up beside you, wrapping her arms around your shaking body.

"you're a shit liar." she mumbles against your scalp. you sigh and relax into her hold, breathing in the comforting scent of her.

"just a nightmare." you mumble as the tears begin to fall, soaking into sevika's sleep shirt. she hums, kissing you again, laying the two of you back down against the mattress, not relaxing her grip on your body.

"wanna tell me about it?" she asks, wrapping her legs around yours, pulling you impossibly closer toward her chest. you shake your head no.

"i can't remember it-- it was so fucking scary though, sev." you whisper. she coos, not stopping the gentle rub of her hand against your back.

"just cry it out babe. i'm right here, i got you." she says. you sniffle against her chest and reach out to grab her free hand. she intertwines your fingers.

usually, cuddled together in the dark of night, sevika's asleep in seconds. but with you so upset in her arms, sleep evades her until she's sure you're okay.

your breaths even out eventually, but she doesn't fully relax until your breaths get long and slow, and tiny little snores escape your mouth.

"love you so fuckin' much, baby." she whispers against your head. "not gonna let anything bad happen to you. i promise."

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[criminalamnesia]

The One I’d Come Looking For

warnings: mentions of blood and death, mentions of past trauma, no use of y/n, reader has an unnamed sister, reader has powers and goes by “phantom”, not proofread

summary: you and peter had fallen out months ago because of your different lifestyles. now, he’s back in your life and trying to save you from Kraven’s hunters.

author’s note: I’m down bad for insomniac!peter. anyways I wrote this quickly and in a blur. it’s also my first step back into writing for fun in a while so I’m sorry if it’s awful and messy! I definitely started this with a different ending in mind but what’s done is done.

—

You thought you’d put your life as a criminal behind you. You’d been doing good for yourself without the help of your powers. You’d gotten out— but Kraven pulled you right back in.

You were on the run now, constantly looking over your shoulder as you attempted to find a way out of New York. It’s times like these you’d wish those experiments had given you the power of flight— maybe even invisibility. Anything to get you out quickly and unscathed.

Your phone rings for the third time in ten minutes. You don’t need to check the caller ID to see who’s calling. You know it’s one of the spiders— probably Miles, as you and Peter had a complicated history.

You ignore the ringing in favor of focusing on pushing the needle into the skin of your thigh to sew up the gash there. Kraven’s hunters were no joke. You’d faced worse, but they’d caught you by surprise. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully, the next your eyes are flying open to the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

You’d taken out most of them as you escaped, but one had taken a sword to your thigh. You were lucky— those blades were sharp enough to cut through bone. The one that hit you had skimmed you, but it had still cut deep enough to need stitches.

You bit your bottom lip as you worked on stitching yourself up. Your first aid skills were a little rusty, but it was almost like riding a bike. You never forget how to patch yourself up after a fight, right?

The phone rang again and you scowled. You should’ve left the damn thing behind, but maybe your subconscious made you take it in hopes that he’d call.

You and Peter hadn’t spoken in months, not since you stepped back from a life of villainy. In hindsight, it’s ironic. Peter hated your lifestyle when you were together— it’s one of the reasons things ended. You’d think he’d be interested once you were on the straight-and-narrow, but he was radio silent.

You could understand. You had done a number on him— and he on you.

Again, the phone rings. You pull the needle through your skin a final time, tying the thread and reaching for the bandages beside you. A knock on the door startles you out of your thoughts.

The bandages are forgotten as you raise your hands. Green light swirls around your fingertips. You’re ready to send a barrage of green spikes through the air when whoever is knocking speaks.

“Phantom, I know you’re in there.”

Peter.

“It’s open,” You sigh, dropping your hands and turning your attention back to the bandages.

The door slowly creeps open a crack to reveal an unfamiliar suit. The red and blue you once knew are gone, replaced by an eery black that unsettles you. You raise your eyebrows as he enters the room and pushes the door shut behind him.

“New suit?” You ask, looking back down at your leg as you start wrapping the bandage. You grit your teeth as you pull the fabric tight around your thigh. You couldn’t afford to start bleeding again.

“Why don’t you answer your phone?” He counters, his voice lower than you remember. It almost didn’t sound like him.

“Kinda busy here, Pete. Fuckin’ hunters know what they’re doing. I’m sure they’ve got my trail again, it’s only a matter of time before they come busting in here. I’ve gotta patch myself up and get going— excuse me if I don’t have time for chatting,” you huff, not bothering to look at him as he approaches you.

“I saw them on my way over,” he says. “Said hi.”

“Did you?” You said, ripping the last of the bandages and patting your thigh. You’d have to stay ahead of them now. You’d lose a foot race, but you may win with some distance. “How kind.”

“I was trying to buy you some time.”

“I don’t need your help, Peter,” you spoke, pushing yourself off of the floor while minding your hurt leg. “I’ve been doing fine on my own.”

“You should be grateful,” he said. There was an angry edge to his voice, and it was unnerving. You’d never heard him speak in such a tone, especially towards you. No matter how mad you made him when the two of you were together, he never reached that point.

“Should I?” You questioned, getting a good look at him now. He still had the white spider you recognized, but the rest of the suit was a slimy looking black. “I don’t owe you shit, Spider-Man,” you threw the title in his face, watching as the off-white slits of his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for your help. I can handle myself— I have been handling myself for months, and last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with me. So, why are you standing here now?”

He exhaled sharply. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you gave a small laugh and shook your head. “This angsty, brooding act isn’t cute, Pete. Tell me what you want or get lost.”

“I’m trying to save you,” he spat as his face started to come into view. Black tendrils of the suit slinked away until his mask was completely gone. There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize.

“Save me from what, the hunters? Little too late for that, incase you haven’t noticed,” you gestured a hand to your thigh.

“Kraven,” he spoke, his voice rough. “He’s killing villains. He’ll kill you.”

“I’m not scared of Kraven or his hunters,” you said, reaching down to swipe your bag off of the floor. You shrugged one of the straps over your shoulder and looked back at Peter. “And you should know I don’t need saving.”

“Can you not be so stubborn for once?” Annoyance was clear in his tone as one of his hands reached out to wrap lightly around your wrist.

“Since when do you care about my well-being?” You countered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and stepping around him. “We didn’t end on good terms. We haven’t spoken in months. I don’t think you could hate anyone, that’s not who you are—” you gave a small laugh as you shook your head, “but I’m pretty sure you got close to hating me.”

“I never hated you,” he told you, and his voice almost sounded normal again, but you were already walking towards the door. Your hand grasped the handle, pulling it open, but making no move to step out.

You ignored him. Although you would never tell him, those words meant a lot to you. You had loved Peter— for fuck’s sake, you were going to marry him. But you got caught up in some bad shit, and he couldn’t forgive you for it. You didn’t expect him to.

The last time you had seen him, you’d limped away. Broken and bleeding, abandoning him on a rooftop, ignoring his pleas for you to do the right thing.

You had never raised a fist to him, nor he to you. In fact, he had saved you from death at the hands of Kingpin that night— and still you’d finished the job you were assigned.

The clarity that came after was crushing. Missing him was crushing, but you were too proud and he was too tired. You know that if you’d gone back to him, he would have eventually forgiven you. Peter was good like that. It was one of the reasons you had loved him.

It was one of the reasons you still loved him.

“Goodbye, Spider-Man.” You spoke softly before stepping into the hall and shutting the door behind you.

You hobbled down the hallway and desperately tried to ignore the pain in your leg. The hunters wouldn’t stop just because you were injured, meaning you couldn’t stop either.

Whatever. You’d been through worse.

As you approached the end of the hall, the irises of your eyes shifted to a light green. It was a subtle tell that you were using your powers. As if the occasional glowing-green structures you created weren’t enough of a tell.

You shifted through the wall, your eyes fading back to their original color as you inhaled deeply. You knew Peter was probably still lurking somewhere close by. He was never one to sit back and let something happen, especially if it involved someone he cared for.

Well, used to care for. You supposed it was just the heroic-ness of him that kept him glued to your shadow. He couldn’t leave in good conscience, not when the hunters were on your tail.

You limped deeper into the alleyway you’d shifted into. It reeked of rotten food and you swore you saw a rat run by, but life on the run was never glamorous. Besides, the darkness of the alley made you feel the tiniest bit safer, even if you knew the hunters had tech that would make the dark surrounding you look like daylight.

Speaking of…

An arrow whizzed by your head, embedding itself into the metal of the overflowing dumpster a few feet ahead. You sighed.

“Can’t you guys take a hint?” You turned and raised your hands, ready to defend yourself, and—

“Run!”

Peter had been following you. He landed between you and the quickly approaching squad of hunters, sparing you a glance over his shoulder before turning to unleash his wrath on Kraven’s lackeys.

“Can’t run even if I wanted to, Spider!” You shouted, shrugging off your bag and tossing it to the side.

What happened next was a blur.

Green light swirled between your raised fingers, materializing into the green spikes you’d almost impaled Peter with ten minutes ago. You sent them flying towards the hunters who weren’t preoccupied with the spider currently ripping them to shreds.

One hunter screamed in pain as one spike met it’s mark, piercing the woman’s abdomen.

Peter may have a no-kill rule, but that didn’t mean you did.

Another grunted as a spike met his shoulder, but he soldiered on with a sword raised.

“Really? Still coming?” You huffed as you formed a sword of your own, the green light it was constructed of illuminating your battlefield.

The man roared a battle cry as he brought his blade down towards you. You parried swiftly, but the man you were fighting was much more experienced with a blade. He swung again, and as you attempted to move out of the way, the blade sliced into your other leg.

“You guys don’t fight fair, huh?” You groaned. Green light dissolved as you lost your focus on your own weapon. Now you were just trying to keep your balance as you dodged the hunter’s strikes by the skin of your teeth.

“Not as strong as we thought,” the hunter spoke as his blade made contact once more, this time cutting into your arm. “Kraven will be disappointed.”

“You caught me on an off day,” you rolled your eyes. “Maybe try again next week?”

“Phantom!”

The shout caught you off guard, and you made a stupid, careless, rookie mistake. You would later blame it on the horrible concoction of events leading to that moment. Peter popping back into your life, the cut on your thigh, and the fatigue you felt after being on the run for days.

Your head turned to follow the voice because you knew it was Peter’s. Old habits die hard, right?

The hunter raised his sword again, and then the world went black.

—

When you woke up, you were in a cage. An honest to god cage. You snorted as you lifted your pounding head from the ground. The hunters took their shtick seriously, you had to give them that.

You blinked your eyes rapidly in an attempt to clear the spots clouding your vision. Probably a concussion. Just another injury to add to the list.

As you slowly pushed your body up into a sitting position, you mentally noted your other injuries. Deep cuts to one arm and both thighs, including the cut you’d stitched— which was now bleeding again. Your right leg also felt broken, which you guessed was something the hunters had done after you’d fallen asleep so you wouldn’t escape.

“Kudos to them for trying,” you mumbled under your breath as you shakily— and very carefully— stood.

You limped to the bars of the cage and grasped onto them for support. As you surveyed your surroundings, you realized you were in a zoo. It almost made you laugh.

“You guys are cute for being so committed to your little hunter thing. Really, it’s adorable,” you spoke as you caught sight of the hunter standing a few feet away.

The woman didn’t acknowledge you. She kept her back towards you as she watched the small fire crackling in front of her.

“Even the spider talks less than you,” a man’s gruff voice startled you. The hunter stepped out of the shadows as he approached the woman by the fire.

“Speaking of the spider,” you called out, “where is he? Do we have adjoining cages, or does he get special treatment?”

The male hunter didn’t bite. He came to a stop beside the woman, leaned down to whisper something into her ear, and then he turned and left.

When the sound of the man’s boots hitting the ground could no longer be heard, the woman turned around. She snarled as she looked at you. One of her hands reached to unsheathe the hunting knife strapped to her hip.

You watched as she began to walk towards you. Your mind raced as you thought of different ways to escape. If she opened your cage, you could use your powers and dispose of her— but how big was this zoo? You had only seen the two hunters, but you weren’t naive enough to believe they were the only ones here.

“Lucky for you,” the woman finally spoke. Her voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “Kraven wants you alive.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Lucky for me.”

The woman raised the knife in one hand and reached the other towards your cage. You struck in an instant.

Green light contrasted the orange of the fire as a spear materialized in your hand. You shoved it forward between the bars of the cage, right into tj woman’s stomach. Before she could attempt a scream, you wrenched the weapon from her gut, raised it in your grasp, and shoved it into her throat.

She dropped to the ground, the only sound escaping her throat a quiet gurgle. You were done playing games— and you didn’t want to prove Peter right. You didn’t need his help. You would get out of here on your own.

You phased through the bars of the cage and raised your hands in anticipation. The only thing you heard was the sound of the fire. It was too quiet.

“Need some help?”

You scowled as you turned your head to look at the man who landed beside you.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you spoke.

“You were locked in a cage,” Peter replied, throwing a thumb over his shoulder towards the cage. “I think you needed a little help.”

“I’m not in the cage anymore, am I? And whose doing is that?” You retorted as Peter’s face slowly revealed itself.

“You just can’t say thank you, huh?” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fuck you, Peter. I told you to stay out of it. I know you feel like you have to intervene, but you don’t, so—”

“Of course I have to intervene,” he cut you off. “I can’t let you die.” His tone was almost angry as he took a step closer to you.

“Are you doing this because it’s me or because of your need to save people?” You said, and he went quiet.

“You feel like you can’t let this go because you have to save everyone. I get it, Peter. But you don’t have to save me.”

“I can’t let you die,” he repeated, his voice soft. His eyes met yours.

Back in that abandoned house, when you’d seen Peter’s face, he hadn’t seemed like himself. But now, as you stared into his eyes, you saw the Peter you knew. The one you loved.

“Peter—” you began, but he shook his head.

“Just let me talk. The way things ended… it shouldn’t have happened like that. I was angry. First May and then— then you. And you went back and finished that job and I just couldn’t— I couldn’t do it. I could barely look at you.”

He paused, and you waited for him to speak again.

“I didn’t understand it at first, why you did it. But now I do. Ganke found out what you did with that money a few weeks after. I wanted to say something— but you were in the wind, and I knew you didn’t want me to come looking. So, I let you go. I had Ganke keep a lookout for any calls that might’ve related to you, but none ever came. You went clean, and I wanted to reach out, but—”

“Peter, whatever end this whole big speech is coming to, I don’t need to hear it.” You interrupted, and he shook his head.

“No, you do. You weren’t a… good guy. Not all the time. I know that. But some of the things you did, and who you worked for, I understand now. Your sister—”

“How do you know about her?” You spoke, eyes wide.

“Please don’t be mad— I had Ganke do some digging after… everything.”

You were shaking now. Peter knew. He knew everything. He knew that you worked for big bosses like Kingpin because you were sending money to your sister.

He knew that you became a criminal because of your anger and your desperate attempts at finding the man who experimented on you. Mob bosses have connections, and you thought you could work out a deal.

He knew that the reason you still finished that job for Kingpin, even if the villain had almost killed you, was because your sister’s life was at stake.

He knew your sister was dead, and that’s why you had tried to disappear.

“We had our problems when we were together,” Peter said after a beat of silence. “And I’m not excusing your past— but you could’ve told me. I could’ve helped you.”

You shook your head. “No, you couldn’t have. He would’ve killed her sooner. Besides, you’re not my therapist, Peter. No one could’ve help me with that anger I felt— that I still feel. I’m still who I was, I’m just trying not to take it out on innocent people anymore. I don’t want to be the reason someone else loses their sister.”

You could hear police sirens in the distance. You gave a small shake of your head as you pushed back the thoughts of your past.

“We should go.”

Peter reached forward, his hand finding solace on your shoulder.

“I can’t forget what you’ve done. I can’t forget the fights and the disagreements between us. But, I also can’t forget the love I have for you. I can’t forget how much I’ve missed you over these past few months. I can’t forget, but I’m willing to forgive.”

Your eyes met his once more. “Peter—”

“I will always come looking for you, over and over again. Even if it takes me a little bit,” he gave a small laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

The sirens were getting closer. You inhaled deeply.

“This doesn’t fix us.” You told him, and he nodded.

“It doesn’t. But maybe one day soon, we can try again.”

A small smile etched its way onto your lips. You gave a small nod as one of your hands came up to rest on his hand.

“Now, let’s get you out of here,” he said as his mask reformed. He moved his hand from your shoulder to you waist and pulled you tightly into his side.

“Still remember how to do this?” He teased, and you laughed.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the fear that comes with your horrible steering.”

“Just for that,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “I’m going the long way.”

Peter shot a web and the two of you were pulled into the sky. You held onto him tightly, and even though you knew the two of you had a long way to go, you’d never been more excited to see where the journey would take you.

[floral-force]

Lay Me Down to Sleep

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader

summary: Insomnia plagues you during your first night on-base with Task Force 141. A little midnight stroll leads you to the imposing masked lieutenant you'd been warned about. Maybe a common struggle can lead to comfort...

words: 1.8k+

warnings/tags: just really soft stuff here (but my work/blog is always 18+ only), this one goes out to my fellow insomniacs, insomniac!simon "ghost" riley, pride and prejudice mention, all fluff, technically pre-slash, soap is a lil shit

a/n: hi, hello, I am back (sort of). I took a long hiatus bc of work/life stress but I cranked this out a while ago and finally feel confident enough to post it. thank you for reading and sticking with me &lt;3

masterlist | read on ao3 | taglist

You stared up at the ceiling of your room, rubbing the heels of your palms into your tired eyes. Hours had passed since you’d gotten into bed to rest up before a briefing in the morning. Sleep still hadn’t found you yet. Maybe it was the time difference—you had flown into England from the States not even 12 hours ago—or maybe it was the stiff mattress. Or maybe it was the way you still thought of the masked lieutenant at Price’s side when you’d gotten off the heli. 

Whatever it was, you needed to get over it. You’d read online that sometimes leaving bed to do something other than try to sleep helps, so maybe it was the perfect time for you to check out that tiny little excuse for a kitchen the Scottish private—nicknamed Soap, he’d told you with a wink—had shown you earlier. With a sigh, you got up and wiggled out of your sleep shorts and into more modest sweatpants, anxiously pulling at the hem of your shirt as you stepped into your crocs and walked out of the door.

Your eyes finally adjusted to the bright fluorescent hallway light as you reached the kitchen, surprised to see a light on when you opened the heavy door with bated breath. You peeked inside and saw a broad man sitting at a table, absolutely dwarfing it with his size. 

“Can’t sleep, eh?” 

You jumped at the deep voice and nearly let the door slam, catching it right before impact and slowly closing it. “Uh, no.” You chuckled, walking behind him to the right side of the table.

You reached the chair, then stopped in your tracks when you lifted your gaze off the floor. 

It was him—the masked lieutenant. 

You could barely make out a quirked-up eyebrow under the shadow of his sweatshirt’s hood as he took a sip from the mug his large hand dwarfed, his fabric mask scrunched up over his nose. Your heart raced and you looked down at the seat of the crummy plastic chair in front of you. The kitchen was now the last place you wanted to be, but you were too tired to make up some shitty excuse to flee. 

So, you stood awkwardly in front of the chair, hands in your pockets, biting your lips.

“I’m—” you cleared your throat, “I’m guessing you can’t either, Lieutenant?”

“Never can these days,” he replied gruffly. 

There was the sound of another sip from his mug, a thump when it was lowered to the table, and then silence. It was heavy and awkward, and you were certain you’d never felt more embarrassed in front of a commanding officer before, even though you’d fainted in front of one during a basic training run.

There was a heavy sigh. “Christ, ‘m not gonna fuckin’ bite ya.”

“Soap told me you would,” you quipped back.

Soap had warned you about the masked man—Ghost, he’d called him—and told you not to bother him much. “That’s my job,” he’d laughed. 

Right now, you felt like you were definitely bothering him.

“Figures,” he grumbled. 

You finally looked back up at Ghost, meeting his brown-eyed gaze for the first time since you’d entered the room. He looked at you with curiosity, not malice; somehow, that made you feel a little better, even if it still made your heart race and your palms sweat. 

“I just—I can’t stop thinking,” you blurted out, finally responding to the question he’d asked when you’d opened the door with a solid answer beyond your meek “no.” 

“I get nightmares.”

It felt like a confession, and you pulled out the chair, cringing when it squeaked across the linoleum floor. You sat down to hear more, crossing your arms on the table and resting your chin on them. Ghost’s eyes tracked your movements, even as he took another leisurely sip from his mug. Now that you were closer, you could smell that its contents weren’t coffee, but tea, the herbal notes reaching your nose. 

Before you thought better of it, words rushed out of your mouth. “It’s stupid, but when my insomnia is really bad—like it is now—I call my best friend and ask them to read to me. I’d do it now, but they’re at work.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Gotta love the time difference.”

Ghost shook his head. “Tha’s not stupid at all.” He took a long drink from his mug and set it down. “Whatever works. I jus’ make myself a cuppa, then see what happens.”

“And what’s happening next?” you probed.

He nudged his thumb against the mug and tilted his head. “I think ‘m gonna try reading.”

“Y’all keep books in the kitchen?” you teased.

“Hell no,” Ghost scoffed. “Did’ya bring any wi’you?” he asked.

You pursed your lips and squinted as you thought. “I think I brought Pride and Prejudice with me. I told myself I’d start rereading it since the plane ride over here was the perfect opportunity…but I fell asleep.” You sat up and smiled at him. “Why do you ask?”

He shifted in his seat and his hood fell, revealing short hair and red-tinged ears. “Could I read a bit of it?”

You blinked, a bit stunned at his shy question. Ghost, a man with a taste for Jane Austen? Something about a man like him wanting to read a period romance novel lit a tiny fire in your chest.

“Um, sure.” You stood and took a few steps, pointing at the door. “I can go grab it—”

“No, no, I’ll go wi’you, save you the trip back, yeah?” He rushed to his feet, and you stopped in your tracks at his side, gulping at the way he towered over you. 

“If you say so, Lieutenant.”

“Ghost,” he nodded.

“Ghost,” you repeated with a soft smile, leading him to the door.

The walk to your room was silent except for your footsteps tapping on the floor; his boots and your crocs mixing into a twilight harmony. Ghost kept up behind you. Your cheeks burned at the thought of him seeing you in your ratty sweats and shirt and crocs—fucking crocs—as you finally reached your door. You fumbled with your keys, swearing under your breath.

You unlocked the door and hurried across the room to flick on the lamp at your bedside. Ghost closed the door, then loomed over you as you crouched down and rummaged through your backpack. You hummed in triumph when you finally pulled out the beat-up and well-loved book, turning and reaching up to hand it to him. You stood and sat on the edge of your bed, expecting him to leave. Instead, he pulled the chair from the desk across the bed over to your bedside, settling in as he read the back cover. You were suddenly aware of his musky, amber scent because of the short distance, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel inviting, much unlike the person it clung to.

“Making sure you like it?” you asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Do you like it, love?” Ghost’s eyes flitted up to meet yours.

The pet name and Ghost’s suddenly soft voice caught you off guard. You reminded yourself it wasn’t personal, that it was a common British thing, that he didn’t mean anything by it, that it was colloquial. It didn’t feel bad or gross—it felt like a warm hug, a gentle kiss on the forehead, a thumb softly stroking across your cheek. 

You swallowed and dug your nails into the mattress. “Yeah, yeah! I’ve—I’ve read it, like, twice now.” You silently cursed yourself for stumbling over your words.

He nodded. “Have you ever listened to someone read it?”

“No,” you answered hesitantly.

“Would you like to?”

You nearly choked on your breath. You couldn’t stop your eyes from widening and your lips from parting. Having Ghost read to you would be absolutely unreal—his voice was strangely soothing, washing over you with a gentleness you didn’t think he’d be capable of. And yet, here he sat, staring you down as his thumb stroked the front cover of one of your favorite books, his offer dangling in the air.

“You said being read to helps you fall asleep,” he continued. “You’re gonna need the sleep to handle Price’s brief, I promise you that, love.”

“I mean, yeah,” you replied. “But I don’t want you to think you have to or need to. I’m a big girl, I can force myself to fall asleep if you say Price is really that bad.”

Ghost shook his head. “Nah, I want to.” He reached for the lamp and jerked his head at you. “Get settled, love. You can still get a decent amount’a sleep in.”

“What will you do?” you asked as he dimmed the light.

“Me?” he shrugged as you lay down. “I’ll live.”

“Then I should stay up too.”

“No, sleep. That’s an order,” he said, the command stern yet playful and stoking the fire in your chest. You swore he winked at you, but it could’ve been a trick of the light. 

“Fine,” you huffed. You closed your eyes so you could focus on the silky tones of his voice.

“Now then,” he cleared his throat. “Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen.”

You smirked. “Off to a great start already, Ghost.”

There was a low chuckle. You smiled, hoping he was looking at the page, but also secretly hoping he was looking at you. Maybe he was, but you could already feel your mind relaxing even though he’d only read the title. There was something in your gut telling you that Ghost was softer than he seemed. The imposing, threatening lieutenant was just a man that enjoyed tea and struggled with insomnia—and apparently, he was a bit of a softie underneath his vest and mask.

As he read, you began to let your mind drift off into dreamland, lulled by Ghost’s dulcet tones and the way he tried to engage with the text, varying his intonation and even chuckling at some of the dialogue and sentences. If he truly didn’t care, you couldn’t tell; he seemed to get more wrapped up in the book the more he read. 

“..but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, and noble mien, and—”

“Hm, like you,” you mumbled to your pillow, thinking of Ghost.

There was a pause, then he continued, sounding amused. He probably hadn’t heard you. He was probably just smirking at the next sentence about Darcy’s money, not your sleepy comment. You yawned, your eyes heavy and brain finally quiet enough for sleep to overtake you right as Darcy commented on Elizabeth’s appearance, Austen establishing their complicated and dramatic love-hate relationship.

Ghost wouldn’t tell you he’d blushed at your comment. That would be his sleepy secret.

masterlist | taglist

taglist: @tizylish @dheet @sinfulsalutations @oliviagreenaway @johfaam0 @sofasoap @nickangel13

[onmyyan]

Hi I just wanted to make a request to ask if you could make a Drabble to ask if you could make a gabe x reader as you when you talked about caspians family you mentioned how gabe is compared to his brother caspian or possibly someone else I would like to know more about him in general and about what would he do with a clay maker s/o who secretly knows about the family business and is an insomniac and also likes to sleep a lot but tries to do the most that they can and won’t fall for the manipulation tactics he uses and just says “ you know if you wanted me to stay home you could’ve just said so?🤨

sorry if your burnt out also have as much fun as you can as a 22 year old !!! You don’t have an obligation to answer this but thank you.

A/N: Ello bby i am soooo happy you asked about Gabe omfg im kicking my feet rn!!! I tried to check all the boxes of the request i apologize if i missed any, Also I'm not burnt out thank you for your sweet words i wanna give u a forehead kith anyway!!!! Heres Gabe! NOT EDITED

T/W: YANDERE, MURDER, GABE IS FUCKIN CRAZY LMAO,CURSING

Gabrielllll Mi Amor omg where do I even begin?!

Standing at a proud 6'4 this mf is big. He's the strongest of his brothers physically, and has always used it to his advantage.

Early on in his life he was being compared to Caspian. They looked so alike it wasn't hard to see why people brought it up the way they did but it still bugged him.

Subconsciously he began to act anyway his brother wasn't. Be it avoiding the kitchen like the plague or gluing himself to the workshop downstairs.

Has a voice like warm butter and can sing stupidly well.

Sings/hums little tunes whenever he's working.

Love languages are acts of service and gift giving, he just wants to take care of you.

Terrified of spiders, he will call you crying to come get it.

Loves tinkering with things, surprisingly delicate hands for such a rough guy.

He laughs with his whole body, the kinda loud boisterous one that made other people start.

Snorts when he finds something especially funny.

He has a hard time reading social cues so he's constantly making dumb jokes, especially when he's not supposed to but he's so funny it's hard to stay mad at him.

Charm up the wazoo, the kinda guy where no matter where he goes, someone's coming up to say hello to him.

He's really good at pattern recognition and it makes him come off a bit psychic at times

Like how he'd clock someone's bad mood the second he seen them, notices details most people wouldn't.

Himbo.

The kinda guy where if you accidentally burn yourself he'll do it too just so you could be in equal amounts of pain, is it dumb as hell? Yeah. Is it also the sweetest thing ever? Absolutely.

Wants the kind of love Mortica and Gomez have, unfiltered raw passion.

Morbid sense of humor.

He's always warm no matter the temperature, comes in mad handy during the colder months and means he wears the smallest amount of clothing when it's hot out which is just a win for everyone.

Scorpio male I repeat Scorpio male. Do with that what you will.

Believes in love at first sight, he's such a big softie.

Had his tongue pierced in his friend's dingy kitchen when he was 18, a secret to this day his mom doesn't know about it.

His canines are a little longer than most and he absolutely had a vampire phase.

Likes to bite. A lot. It's a love language.

He confides in Caspian for everything, expect his envy of him. For that he talks to Ricky.

He can knock someone out with his right hook and has many times before.

He grew up working for his dad's approval and that meant getting his hands dirty.

At first his was a bit weary of using his strength to hurt people but that all changed when his Father put things in perspective for him.

"Everything we do- it's to keep food on our table, to keep us safe- your mother safe." And it all clicked.

Violence for the sake of violence wasn't okay. But violence for the sake of love? That shit was poetic.

He's essentially the family's guard dog. If anyone fucked with them? You told Gabe and suddenly the problem was gone.

He loves the color red, specifically the shade of red that came outta' the first guy his Father sent him after.

He was just supposed to rough him up a little but had too much fun caving in the dude's face.

Thinks killing in the name of love is the most caring thing you can do for someone.

Lil bit of a masochist streak. Likes when he gets to fight someone who can actually keep up with him cuz that little jolt he gets down his spine when he gets hit is addicting.

Animals love him, like you got a cat that hates everyone? Loves him.

Likes preening himself, takes about an hour in the shower everyday, since he dyes his hair so often he takes extra special care of it.

He has a beauty routine and he never skips it, definitely sets up self care spa days with the two of you once you're together.

Really good at videogames, like don't let him goad you into any sort of bet around gaming bec you will lose.

He's the second oldest but carries a lot of the weight of the older brother title since Cas wants nothing to do with the family business

Loves taking things apart to see how they work then putting them back together. He's done this to his PC a lot.

Really such a sweetheart but he has a dark side that feels a lot like a caged animal.

He's not afraid to show you this side because he's proud of it, it's kept him and his kin safe time and time again, why wouldn't he want you to know he'd do anything for you?

Does not like large public spaces, he needs to have a clear way in and out of any area.

Has mad anxiety, takes meds for it.

Works out every day, his favorite way to do so is jogging, he loves being able to just turn off his brain and go.

He meets you on one of those jogs!! Runs right past your art studio but stops when he sees you about to drop this heavy ass box you're attempting to move in a truck.

"Woah- I got you don't worry." He said in an attempt not to scare you as he was some random man running at you from across the street.

You'd peak your head out with the sweetest smile he's ever seen. The honest gratefulness in your eyes warmed him to his core.

"Oh thank you!- I appreciate it." Sure the words were simple but paired with that sheepish little laugh brought heat to his cheeks, he had the sudden to urge to fix his hair, make sure he looked presentable because holy shit were you gorgeous.

You're in a dust covered pair of overalls, your hair is windswept, and you still knocked the breath from his lungs.

"Whatcha' got in there?-god sorry if it's personal you don't need to, I'm sorry." He was very obviously flustered but he was so cute it only added to the charm.

"It's some clay my friend asked for- I had some extra from this project I'm working on- anyway thank you so much.." She trailed off waiting for his name. "Gabriel, you can call me Gabe." His voice was deep and warm like molasses on a hot cookie.

He asks for your number then and there and your fate is sealed.

He runs home faster than he's ever run before, like straight to his apartment, straight to the laptop, doesn't even close the front door kinda rushing.

You only gave him your first name but since he knew you most likely worked at the pottery studio he met you outside of he could find what he needed easily.

He wasn't the most technology savvy man out there but he managed to find a few of your socials and made a quick call to a friend, he has a lot of connections and it was nothing to get the info he needed.

He's a straight shooter and texts you asking for a coffee date that night.

You accept, and despite not usually entertaining men you'd only met that day, he had this captivating energy that had you accepting before you could talk yourself out of it.

The date would be dummy cute, he shows up with flowers and what was supposed to be a quick cup of coffee turns into an all day adventure where you just talked and talked about everything and nothing.

He has you laughing the entire date, blushing from the sheer intensity of his gaze. He was blunt in the way where he said whatever was on his mind.

"I'm sorry- Ima be real I didn't catch a word you just said- the sun hit your face and I had to take a second. Holy shit- you're stunning." His genuine disbelief along with the way he shyly inched his hand to interlock your fingers had your heart skipping a few beats.

He's so into love and the idea of being entirely wrapped up in it.

Before you know it it's getting dark and if he's not walking you to your door he's politely demanding you let him know when you're safe and sound.

The kinda person who makes sure your seatbelt is on or if you're walking on the sidewalk he'll always take the street side just in case.

Would jump out of his coat if you gave the slightest inclination you were cold.

He once balled up his hoodie and threw it at you from across the room like a basketball, like he jumped and dunked.

If you wear fake lashes first time you take em off he the type of dude to be terrified thinking you're just yanking out your real one's.

If he has stuff in his hands and you jump at him he will launch the items if it means catching you better.

Definitely the type to randomly come up to you and silently demand affection.

He wants you to go with him to the gym just to see him be hot. N like maybe give him a reward kiss every time he completes a set.

Surprisingly graceful for such a big dude.

He's an all or nothing type, makes that abundantly clear on the phone one night as he'd gotten in the habit of falling asleep to your voice.

"I want you. Entirely. And I've never been good at denying myself." He'd sound so sure, so certain in his words it made your brain go a bit fuzzy.

Possessive in a hot way not an icky controlling way.

Like if someone hits on you in front of him he has to physically distract himself so he doesn't commit a crime in broad daylight.

Instead whenever his jealously is triggered he becomes a koala, latches himself to your back like a demon, his massive form hovering behind you whenever you went.

"My girl can dress however she wants. I can fight."

Does not tolerate any disrespect towards you or your relationship.

Some girl tried to grind on him at the club and he threw his drink at her.

Petty as HELL when mad, he has a shit list and you do not want to be on it.

Protective as hell, if you indulge his little tendencies (putting sunblock on you if it's warm out, always bringing extra snacks incase you get hungry when you're working) he will start talking about marriage lmao

Speaking of he loves to linger around your studio whenever he can, be warned he will distract you by being adorable so working will be hard but it's totally worth it.

Nicknames for you are : Baby girl, Ma', WIFEY,(almost always followed by a kiss) Darlin', Mi Amor.

He's struggled with insomnia before so he knows a thing or two.

Once you start sleeping over more he notices your nocturnal habits and quickly adjusts.

If you ever get up because you just can't sleep and need to get some energy out he always wakes up.

He can't sleep without you so if you're gone longer than a minute sirens go off in his mind and he's wide awake.

If you wanna watch TV until you can finally rest you know he's right there with you, likes to have you resting in his lap so he can wrap himself around you entirely.

If you simply want to exist in silence he can do that to, so long as he's with you he knows peace.

It wouldn't take long for you to realize his family's secret.

Gabe can keep a secret from anyone.

Except you.

Sometimes his Father would call for him at odd hours of the night, and he'd have to shoot out of bed with little explanation.

You'd wake up to the lightest pressure on your forehead as he kissed you goodbye.

"Shit- go back to sleep Baby, somethin' going down at the shop, they need me." He'd say this cradling your still half asleep face, gently thumbing over your cheeks before stealing another kiss.

He'd come back hours later, the sky still dark and he always showered and put his clothes in the washer before he came to lay back down.

After a while these constant exits would have you a little worried, while yes he was the single most loyal man you'd met and the idea of him cheating seemed laughable, especially considering how seriously he took you, you knew he was hiding something.

Eventually our boy slips up and leaves some blood on his shirt, it was splattered on like paint and yeah at first you were a bit terrified at the concept of your boyfriend being violent then you really started to think about it.

The way he talked about people he didn't like, that look in his eye whenever you told him someone had upset you, how he seemed almost eager to fight at any time.

It made sense.

Then there's the way he talks about his family's shop.

"It's kinda' fun working down there- yeah it can get messy but that's my favorite part."

"I mean Jimmy knew what kinda' businessman pops is- no wonder he die- retired. No wonder he uh, retired. 👀"

It's embarrassing how slick he thinks he is.

It all comes to its boiling point when one day you two are out and bump into a smaller, who at the sight of your loving boyfriend, goes pale as a sheet, nearly dropping the bags in his arm.

"H-Hey Gabe! Boy it's been a minute huh? Listen tell your pops I ain't ducking him or nothing I swear!-" The man said practically vibrating in place, sweat pooling down his flustered face. He was petrified.

Gabe cut him off with a look, his eyes glancing between you and the vermin across him.

"It's Gabriel. Only my friends get to call me Gabe. Do you think we're friends Joey?" You'd never heard this tone from your boyfriend before, it was cold and dry, as if was an entirely different person speaking.

His hold on your waist would tighten when the trembling man looked to you.

"Aye don't look at her look at me, I'm the one talking to you right?." He sneered down, he didn't move and still had the stranger flinching. "Your mama never taught you manners or somethin'?"

"My apologies- really Gabriel, I didn't mean nothin' by it." And with that he'd practically run away, checking over his shoulder every few seconds as if he though Gabe would be following.

"Forgive me, Amor. Some people-" he sucked his teeth before shaking off his nasty look. His fingers began dancing against your side.

"He owe your dad some money?" You'd ask figuring the interaction far too intense to be about a late car job or something.

Gabe would respond honestly before thinking, "Yeah, little bastard has been dodging me all week now he wants to come up to us- nevermind that, let's go were gonna miss the movie!" His flustered response would break all tension, but you'd gotten all the confirmation you needed.

All in all this big bad bastard just needs someone to hold his leash and accept his particular brand of love.

[randomvarious]

1990s Trip Hop Playlist

Been six months since I added anything to this fly-as-fuck playlist, and this week I've got a bunch of heady, spaced-out, and super stoned treats for you all. For this update, I ended up drawing from three separate releases: Ninja Cuts: Flexistentialism, a terrific comp from 1996 that was put out by premier UK trip hop, hip hop, downtempo, and future jazz label Ninja Tune; French native Kid Loco's brilliant DJ-Kicks mix from 1999 that was put out by Germany's !K7 label; and a varied South African comp that was put out by national indie label Fresh Records in 1998 called ReRooted: Beatz From da Ground Up.

So let's highlight some sweet goodies from all of these then. First up, "Junkies Bad Trip" by London Funk Allstars, a quintessential piece of head-nodding mid-90s boom bap dope that sounds like it's waiting for your favorite New York rapper's favorite New York rapper to spit some crazy fire over it. When it comes to instrumental trip hop and hip hop-type shit, there's really nothing in my mind that tops something like this tune right here; a big sonic bluntski with two pretty iconic samples in it: one from Baby Huey's "Hard Times," which gives the song its frenzied, metallic, whistling stabs, and has been used in a whole bunch of other rap tunes too; and a funky guitar riff from James Brown's "Blind Men Can See It," which was also famously used in Das EFX's 1992 classic, "They Want EFX" as well. Currently at around 252K plays on Spotify.

Next, something really cool from that ReRooted comp by a band from Cape Town called Naked, who only ever put out one album, 1998's Bone Needs Flesh. Here they offer up a tune called "Wash Your Hands (Stone Cold remix)," which employs this really unique blend of chopped-up vocals, heavy breathing, and sharp, acidic bass stabs, as a couple different effects are applied to frontwoman Kaolin Thompson's voice. This one seems pretty damn obscure, as it's currently sitting at under 1,000 plays on Spotify. It's terrific, though.

And for some pure fuckin' THC-induced nuttery, there's "Attitude Adjuster" by Essex, England's own Tom Tyler. Appearing on Kid Loco's DJ-Kicks mix, this 1999 leftfield stunner's marked by a very imposing, dissonantly wobbly, and bleating horn sound, with a dubbed-out drumbeat beneath it, and all of it anchored by a super chill and steady synth pad to mellow and balance the whole thing out. A simply bananas piece of music that was made to satiate your crusty-eyed inner insomniac at 3:46 in the morning. Currently at a little over 4,000 Spotify plays.

9 Lazy 9 - "Turn Me Loose" Jazz Con Bazz - "Wayz of Life" Luke Vibert - "Get Your Head Down" Up, Bustle & Out - "Ninja's Principality" London Funk Allstars - "Junkies Bad Trip" DJ Vadim - "Theme From Conquest of the Irrational (Remix by The Prunes)" Pelding - "One" Naked - "Wash Your Hands (Stone Cold remix)" Boards of Canada - "Happy Cycling" Tom Tyler - "Attitude Adjuster" Kid Loco - "Flyin' on 747"

Now, something else I should mention is that the YouTube version of this playlist includes all of these songs too, but a bunch of the versions that are specifically from Kid Loco's DJ-KIcks mix are as they appear on the mix itself, which is a little different from how they sound unmixed on Spotify, except for the set's sweet and serene closer, "Flyin' on 747."

But in addition to that, this YouTube update also comes with some songs from that DJ-Kicks mix that aren't on Spotify at all too, like something from a London collective called Common Ground, whose 1998 song, "Dark Soul," has some piano-and-string bits that might remind you a little of something like the theme song from Succession—a show that came 20 years after this very song dropped—but this tune, like so many others in this update, is also very fucking stoned; it has this Mike Oldfield Tubular Bells-like opening, some plonking xylo, and some slow and incremental, scale-climbing vocals to mark its 'chorus' too. An absolute, unheralded banger as far as I'm concerned, and currently only nearing 1,900 plays on YouTube across a couple different uploads.

Emperors New Clothes - "Dark Light (Underdog Mix)" Grantby - "Grimble" Tongue - "Culture Consumers" Common Ground - "Dark Soul" Stereotyp - "Slo Jo"

And this playlist is also on YouTube Music.

So with this update we're now at 46 songs that clock in at 4 hours and 5 minutes on Spotify, but over on YouTube, we've got 76 songs that clock in at 7 hours and 2 minutes! So if you want more dank 90s trip hop than you know what to do with, then do yourself a favor and pick the YouTube one.

And if 7 hours and change or 4 hours and change sounds like way too overwhelming of an amount of trip hop for you to handle, I've got a bunch of this broken down by year too:

1994 Trip Hop: YouTube / YouTube Music 1996 Trip Hop: Spotify / YouTube / YouTube Music 1997 Trip Hop: YouTube / YouTube Music 1998 Trip Hop: YouTube / YouTube Music 1999 Trip Hop: YouTube / YouTube Music

More trip hop next week, but from a certain locality 😎.

Enjoy!

More to come, eventually. Stay tuned!

Like what you hear? Follow me on Spotify and YouTube for more cool playlists and uploads!

[tenacioushunger]

i’m not the type to use social media, i’m a snooper & a silent stalker. but seeing this from my fav relatable meme page made me decide to attempt being active to create a presence here.

now, hi. i’m kaiden, where are the losergirls, loserboys, & loser individuals who are ambivertedly introverted yet still try their best to put themselves out there a bit ?

about me:

i’m very easy to talk with, but won’t conversation carry at all if there’s no reciprocation on your end. puerto rican-dominican-american. white latino/a. transmasculine genderfluid boy/girl, he/him heavily preferred. infp-a. demisexual sapiosexual pansexual, single, baby-faced 21 y/o that’s emotionally unavailable. flirtatious at times because it’s fun. doesn’t send nudes, so don’t ever fuckin’ ask. here to shit post, admire pretty blogs/posts, & to maybe find cool acquaintances. immensely polite yet an asshole if need be. sarcastic. autumn & spring <3. funny. sweet. tuxedo/black cat coded. restless insomniac. daytime 7hr+ napper if possible. huge ambivert with an introverted homebody lean. animal + nature lover. music + movie fanatic. productive pothead. radiates tons of duality. art connoisseur. book reader. cat dad to one. funko + spiderman collector. ghostboy. loves marvel specifically spiderman & the hulk.

BYF: up for convos just be respectful & not weird. sfw & nsfw accs always welcome to interact with me. not a nude sender, but is flirtatious so if interested in flirting/sexting get to know me a bit. if we know each other & there's been good convo flow then don't be shy to ask. pretty sure my sarcasm reigns superior. tends to hyperfixate on things & people if interested. likes to talk about deep shit, likes being asked random questions. adhd + bpd haver. witty. probably sleeping or busy. stubborn. always has something to say. dissociates. has trust issues, doesn’t open up. trauma based kinks + extreme/taboo kinks. a not so horny virgin that’s gatekeeping himself ( yes i said trauma based kinks while still having my v-card, it is a thing. we exist. fucking fight me on it idc ). likes to bicker & argue. disappears then reappears randomly, literal ghostboy. daddy issues + mommy issues. loner. fawns over unique nicknames. est. 21.

sporadic replies. selective at times with dms or is shamelessly active & lags with replies, if you see me reposting or posting yet haven't gotten an answer then don't take it to offense, be patient with me. some of us operate like that because we want to & because we can.

DNI: if below 18. if you’re a terf. have no age indicator. are a zoophile. ableist, racist, sexist, transphobic, anti lgbtq+, xenophobic, or any other phobic towards any specific group of individuals. if you sexualize or assault the safety of littles when they are in little headspace because you cannot understand the difference between ageplay & little headspace. if you encourage eds or bodyshame. complain about people who answer dms at their own pace. are a white discharge monkey that fetishizes different ethnic groups. & if you support isntreal.

if you read this far then thank you very much & let’s be friends !

here are the vibes i bring to the function:

[heartofhubris]

WIP Tag game

Got tagged by @dlishpencils - Thank you!

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Gotta put this under a read more, so going to tag @zorgishborg @overlookedfile @writingkitten @curbitkirby and anyone following me with WIPs!

Victorian AU

Andres & Fi | Gun Kink

Andres |Cane E

Angels Lives

Armand/Riene-marie/reader one

Adutodale

Boris + Special fluids???

Buck/Harding fuckin

Cliff the steal IVF

Doctor who

Edy | underwear + chain

Ford Pines & Reunion

Ghoastie quentin and acedia

ghosts

Harding | Blood and sitting on a lap

Harding | Food Love + food restrictions

Harding | Fucking machine?

Harding | Morning Texts

Harding | Transion Kink

Harding | Voyer + priest Kink

His assistant; rainy morning accidently fallasleep together

Important Rickya nd red panties

Insomniac Olympics | Drank/James

Max & Vik after the Eradon the unreliable

Maxim | Piss Kink

Maxim Horvath Romen Era

Misc Hand kisses

Misc sex snip to use

Mullet stan gangbang

Otto | Drunk texts

Otto | Trans reader, T

Otto norman | reader dom fight

Pac rim

Silco and reader

snidley |Crossdressing

Stephen | van sex + pick up line

Werewolf ford for beta

Z Armand | 3 some and reine-marie dom moment | cool epic thing hubris is doing

z Ghostie | Acedia kissing ottos forehead

z lucius needful | magic dildo

z Maxim + fuckin in a blanket fort | in our bedroom (after tehw ar)

z Maxim | blood blood blood blood | plotted

z Maxim | sex pollen | plotted

z Otto Rosie Reader realing they're all together | Plotted

z Snidley | plotted, drabble

Portrait of a lady - au

Ford's fucking his hand and pillow

[transjarlaxle]

i am here asking about your gale age conspiracy for when you wake up (and so i can steal your headcanons) 🫨

ok im answering this from mobile cuz i forgor i was busy as shyt today but im still thinking about it so.

thinking about gale being a chosen of mystra re: the mechanical abilities they receive, and i focused on two main things: that they have no need to sleep, and they do not age

this is about the second thing. to make a long fuckin story short i could be convinced that gale is at least over a century old

disclaimer: i know his mother is still alive and im not interested in explaining that one right now this is ONLY about how emo i am about this man

the more i think about it, the more it makes sense to me. he was an archmage "of considerable talent," and it's implied he's at least a little well-known, at least in whatever wizard circles there are. he was mentored by elminster for a time. we dont know the exact magnitude of the power he lost, but we can infer that it was. a lot.

and it makes me insane to think about. like. gale who was unaging for ~a century, barely a year into readjusting to a mortal life, having to sleep, feeling his age, so on. he says something along the lines of how he'd almost forgotten how sweet a mortal love could be - which to me makes more sense if i contextualize his relationship with mystra as having been much longer than a decade or so.

AND it works in the context of kainegale, because kaine is 23, and is only a few years into experiencing the world outside of the dawn palace, so there's a balance struck between them and gale, who has been disconnected from a fully mortal life for an indeterminate amount of time. insomniac gale + weighted blanket kaine. You See.

it's less a conspiracy and more a mostly-baseless headcanon born out of the fact that none of it is detailed in canon, but. my brain is braining

[anxious-art-block]

LU Headcanon’s Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

THE EDGY BOOOOOYY

[Legend it’s Legend’s turn]

Would rather saw off his legs than wear pants

Could and would probably slap Hylia if given the chance 

These are my headcanons so therefore I make the rules and so I say he is 100% engaged to Ravio 

Legend is an insomniac, and has gone a total of 71 hours and 42 minutes without crashing before

Is absolute besties with Hilda and Styla, despite one being from another country and the other being from an alternate dimension, it doesn’t stop him

“Bureaucracy will never beat a shift iron rod to the kneecaps.” 

Agender icon [He/She/It]

!!Hyrule!!A baby!!

Can’t read, and therefore can’t read a map [hence getting lost at any given point] because he was never taught how

“Yes, ma’am/sir!”

Wouldn’t often go into large towns in his Hyrule, and is often overwhelmed and scared of large crowds, so when they go to another or go to a town in their current one, will cling to Legend’s arm like a baby koala

“There are young and innocent ears in the room, and by that I mean Roolie.” “Gah?!”

I’m pretty sure it’s LoZ canon that he would be blood-relatives with Legend so I’m gonna make him and Legend have similar mannerisms and faces [Hyrule has a more rounded/babyish face and button nose, while Legend has sharper eyes and flat yet tall nose] 

They have the same confused and pouting expressions

Even more broke™

Snorts when he laughs

Twirls a lock of hair on his neck when nervous

It’s fucking WIMDY

Wind’s Hylian is based on Polynesian [Mainly Samoan, Tokelauan, and Tuvaluan]

“I lived on a WARSHIP-“ ok I’ll stop

The absolute BEST BIG BROTHER in the W O R L D

Uses the word fuck like a comma

Probably a medium 

Misses Linebeck :[[ 

Has a thing with large birds, things like seagulls and small birds he has no problem, but if there any larger than half his size he’ll lock up, and will always make sure it’s where he can see it

Has to keep a notebook of EVERYTHING after Phantom Hourglass, cause he still isn’t entirely sure if the journey actually happened or if it was just one big hallucination caused by the Ghost Ship

Wind and Tetra’s love language is beating the shit outta one another

The OG problem child

Loves Sun so fucking much he cannot even stand it

Princess Peach lips mf

Is a narcoleptic 

Has trouble breathing on the surface, it’s hardly ever too serious unless he seriously overexerts himself but there will pretty much always be a slight wheeze to his breathing 

Is mostly stressed about leaving Sun not just cause he misses her, but because he doesn’t know what could happen if he’s not there, especially since last time he WASN’T she was taken 

!!Him and Groose are now besties!!

Good for him good for him

Little to no reaction during a switch 

Weather is both his best friend and mortal enemy 

The scariest when angry

Will cry at the drop of a hat and doesn’t know what to do about it 

“No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle.”

FINALLY ON BRAND

Is very careful about not stepping on small things

Is pretty fuckin’ sick of Vaati at this point

“It’s funny when short people threaten me, like what are you gonna do?” “Say goodbye to your kneecaps asshole”

Thought of this when I first read the manga when I was like 13

So I often draw/write Four like a fusion from Steven Universe 

No I don’t take constructive criticism 

“This is who we are, this is who I am.”

Did he exist before the blade split him? Yes. But when he merged for the first time afterwards was he basically a new person? Also yes.

I rest my case

Misses Shadow :[[[[[[

Has a tooth gap!!

!!Has rainbow colored eyes!!

A whopping 4’10”

Puppy eyes work on him really well, it doesn’t matter who is making them, he will cave pretty much upon contact if you give him puppy eyes

G e n d e r

Alright I’m done for now

[ophexis]

Hi! I'm alive! Let tell you about the

Elder Scrolls Cookbook!

Winner of the last poll! I know I'm under zero time constraints but sorry for taking a while lmao.

This is kind of going full circle for me, because when I joined tumblr, the very first thing I ever blogged about was my Skyrim playthroughs, not too long before I got into Saints Row and changed my life significantly. So this is kind of nostalgic for me lol. Anyway, onto the book!

The Elder Scrolls cookbook is a CLASSIC. Like I'm pretty sure it's not at all the first "nerdy" cookbook ever made, or even the first cookbook made for a specific franchise or anything, but when this came out it was kind of a big deal, probably because Skyrim was still a big deal lmao. I remember people trading the sweetrolls recipe around.

I kinda wonder if it's one of the first cookbook that tried to stay "in-universe". Because sometimes cookbooks really don't (there are a few Star Wars kids cookbooks that come to mind). But the Elder Scrolls cookbook is in-universe and has little lore snippets in each recipe, which I'm always a fan of.

The book is themed for The Elder Scrolls setting as a whole, but you can tell it came out at the height of Skyrim's popularity lol.

The book starts off with a chapter covering basics, from spice mixes to pie doughs to sauces, which I think is really cool. Not every cookbook has those, and they'll be used throughout the book so it's good to have a look through that chapter. Then the rest of the book is divided between sides, main meals, soups, breads, desserts and drinks. The recipes lean towards hearty recipes, perfect for surviving the harsh wilds of Tamriel.

The Nines know my poor fifth playthrough insomniac mage who I walked manually from Whiterun to the College of Winterhold would have needed it.

The cookbook has a photo for every recipe except one of the meads for some reasons lol. But I'll let that one slide because it's "just" a drink. It's not that hard to put a photo of food on recipes but man it is not standard and I'll complain about it forever. But the Skyrim cookbook has photos, thank the Nines.

I've cooked only one recipe from this book but what a recipe it is. Pictured above on the right, it's the orsimer venison, a sweet, slightly spicy, soy sauce meat recipe that is fuckin delicious and I've made it dozens of time (always with beef bc it's easier to find lol). On the left is the redguard rice, which is a current contender for the recipe I'll make from this for the poll (though I'm also looking at the Companion meatball recipe....which sounds funny said like that lmao). The redguard rice uses ground lamb, and I can't remember ever having lamb before! If I can find it I would definitely like to try.

We also, of course, have the Sweetroll recipe. I haven't made it yet but I recently and FINALLY found a small-sized fluted baking pan so I really want to make them soon.

Overall this is a really solid cookbook, it looks pretty, the photos are huge, there's a little bit of lore and story on every recipe. There are more fish-based recipes than I expected, which isn't as interesting for me but it adds variety. I kinda wish there were a few more main meals in there. I'm also torn on if I'd like the book to be divided by meal types as it is currently, or if it'd be neat to have the chapters be themed around cultures for extra lore flavor, like the DND cookbook. idk!

The recipes are pretty standard and don't tend to go for funky ingredients but I think that's fine. They do tend to go for venison and lamb for meat, which I think makes sense, thinking about Skyrim! (and yes the book is still very heavily focused on Skyrim, thought there are a few recipes from elsewhere) The recipes are hearty, using cheese, meats, lots of veggies and with a significant soup chapter and also lots of desserts. You'll be well fed as you travel Tamriel! Just watch your back for them Dark Brotherhood types.

Bonus themed images bc I feel like it: Some of the few surviving screenshots I had from Oblivion, when our computer couldn't run it well so my dad modded it to run at even lower specs and I'm pretty sure it turned off all the lighting. But I had such a great time.

My khajiit assassin at home uwu

And my main, in casual wear for some reason. She was a heavy armor build lol. And my outlet for making drow, without access to dnd.

ANYWAY hope this was mildly entertaining! I'll try to choose a recipe for this week, but I'm being forced to go into office more often so I can't garantee a time. Currently it's between the redguard rice and the companion meatballs.

Also check out Misohungrie's several few videos of him covering the cookbook and some extra recipes! I love his videos so you should check them out.

[twothpaste]

(kumatora fick snippet below the cut feat. duster)

Duster n' OJ have a sleeper sofa. It's probably, by a rough landslide, the most luxurious thing they own. 'Sides the instruments, of course. Like the Corolla, it hails from a Craigslist ad. Like the rest of their shit, it's got about a dozen things wrong with it. Pain in the ass to unfold. Creaks when ya roll over. Smells a little funny. Not that ya really notice, given it muddles with the apartment's general funk. Cigarettes they don't smoke, dogs they don't own, and moldy cheese linger like ghosts ya just can't bust. Er. Well. The latter pungence might be on account of the resident bassist himself, come to think of it.

The twins are a snoozy pile of ratty old blankets. Claus' residual arm, an unwitting pillow. Lucas huddles close in his sleep. Soon as he's zonked out, his gangly, awkward, half-grown limbs inevitably give way to the unconscious cling. There's this one Pokemon. It's called Komala. Kuma's got it on a phone charm. Souvenir gift from Mixolydia's Japan trip, last summer.

It dangles from her sweatpants pocket, now, casting a faint shadow onto grungy off-white tiles. The kitchen's built like the world's shittiest limousine. A bullet train long, and a Subway sandwich wide. Lack of insulation beckons drafty chills from the window - which the architects had no right to cram into such a miserable sliver of wall in the first place. A fine layer of grease coats most inches of most surfaces. OJ's tried to tame it. Sweaty tank top. Dollar store scrub brush. Old Dutch Cleanser. All to no avail. It's the grime's abode. They're just livin' in it. 'Til their lease is up, that is.

Little does Kumatora know, a standard is being set. Couple years from now, she'll be sharing a pretty little duplex with four unruly roommates. By the end of their lease, they'll be at each others' throats like cats n' dogs. After the bloodbath, she and Lucas, broke n' broker, will claim a sardine can not unlike this one. The place is out there, right now. Accumulating wear and tear, as we speak. Stovetop burner that don't work. Crack in the bathroom wall. Present tenants bitchin' to the landlord about the faulty A/C, as if Mr. Phil T. Apartments has any intention of havin' it fixed within the next decade. These things'll be waiting for them. And, somehow, despite every pipe leak and mouse squeak? Kuma's gonna find it all quaintly comforting.

She ain't thinkin' 'bout that, though. Ain't got a crystal ball. Never could read those fuckin' tea leaves. She's staring outside, lookin' for stars she can't see. Peering through that frosty little window, watchin' the snow flurries pour down over a pothole-littered lot. Perched like an alleycat. Fat ass on the countertop. Kitten-print socks hovering, with sickly gray smudged along the bottoms. Rollerblade vertigo swirls the meat around in her skull.

In her left hand, she wields a 50ml shot bottle of Captain Morgan.

Duster, who's sharper than he looks by quite a steep margin, had spotted her pilfering it, a few hours prior. Chipped nailpolish breaching the stark red lining of a Target shelf. Didn't mention it, then. And won't, now. Even as he watches the yellowish swill descend down her gullet. She's four winters short of liquor-legal. Three, next month. Conversely - he's thirty-nine Septembers sober.

A wisened insomniac, he treads lightly. Still, she catches the floorboards creaking from a mile away. White spots, on the perked backs of a tiger's ears. The corner of her eye is a threat. He heeds it. Saint's patience. Keeps a full limousine's distance, between their dark silhouettes.

"Y'can keep runnin', if y'want."

If you can imagine the quiet crinkle of a brown paper bag, you can hear him, too. Ain't nothin' inside but off-brand groceries and humble intentions. The soles of his shoes, sittin' by the front door, are worn awful thin.

"But. It won't do ya any good. I learnt the hard way, y'know."

"The hell do you know about it?"

Her growl snaps at his heels. A curious rumble, as low as it is sharp. Resides somewhere liminal, between cub and beast. The adolescent must now set out on its own, to stake its claim on a territory, David Attenborough would say. Peering through jungle fronds, all Duster can dare to offer is a piece of meat. Pint of blood. Some bones to gnaw on.

"I jus' don't want ya to hurt yerself, is all."

Slitted eyes regard her friend with wary vengeance. Stiff frame. Capran scruff. The old goat's hooves, clattering bravely upon her lonesome dominion. His gnarled hands, perfectly still. Once upon a time, he'd been the one to gently pry scavenged hazards from her toddling paws. Shaving razor. Pair of scissors. Wess' cigars - remember? Now, there's no nip at her sleeve. No use tryin' to tug anything outta her claws' grip. She's grown now. She knows the score. She calls the shots! Y'hear..!?

So be it.

"Fuck off, Duster."

He hangs still and silent for a fleeting moment. As if to a sheer cliffside. Careful consideration given to each minute, faintly-creaking motion. He bleats back nary a protest. Only a humbly nodding "Mmh." Teeters back toward the hallway's pitch black. Hand on the wall, to steady himself.

He'll do just that. If she demands.

White flakes of solitude pour down yet heavier, just beyond the window.

'Bout an hour later, he finds her squeezed along the edge beside Lucas, snoring away. Huddled tight to herself, with the sheets unpilfered. Yanked not even an inch to cover her goosebump-riddled arms.

Before he returns to OJ, Duster ventures, silent as the night, into the living room closet. Calloused hands reach high, to the topmost shelf. Fetch an extra blanket, and ferry it down. He drapes it so gently over her shoulders, she doesn't even stir.

[jake-g-lockley]

I’m gonna SOB I don’t wanna do this paper I don’t want to do college I wanna be santis little baby girl and taken care of 😭😭😭

GIRL SAME I AM SO TIRED OF EVERYTHING GOOD LORD

I just wanna be swaddled in a blanket like a burrito and rocked to sleep by one of the insomniac moon bois (all three should help too). I want Santi to buy me ramen and Frankie to draw me a fuckin bath with bubbles. I want to dance with Javier and sing with Joel till I become sleepy as fuck. I want to stuff my face in Poe’s curly curls and cuddle with him and Din to carry me around bridal style cuz I just wanna lean against that beskarless space in his neck and cling onto his armor.

I WANT MY BOYS TOOOOOOO 😭😭

BUT WE WILL GET THROUGH THIS GIRL! YOU CAN DEFINITELY WRITE THAT PAPER I BELIEVE IN YOU 😩😩❤️

Here’s Pope looking at you WITH ADORATION AND LOVE AND LIKE YOURE HIS WORLD 🫣:

[cr-s01]

An Amnesia member of your choice for the ask game!

fuck it. chaos. i like his weird dog. little bit brief compared to the others because i don't have too many thoughts on him

overall opinion of them - pretentious gayboy. dog-haver. Nerd. what more do i need to say here

gender/sexuality headcanons - have you SEEN him and gord though that's literally not even a headcanon at this point

favourite moment in canon - the fact that like. immediately after he summons azhi dahaka, giant scary void monster thing, from this big ancient book he stole from the basement of a very notable and relatively ancient organization, his first instinct is to pet it and call it a good boy. amazing

favourite moment in a fanwork - have not read anything with him in it. sobs

favourite line - yeah same man

characters i love seeing them interact with - honestly really enjoyed his interaction with seth, and i do really like how he acts towards merkava in merk's arcade route. also obviously any interactions he has with the general amnesia folks are spectacular (wish enkidu got a bit more screentime though. rip king)

headcanons about the last thing they do before they sleep - this may be absurdly predictable but he probably just likes to read before bed. absolute insomniac though he'll stay up for ages whether it's because he's worrying about whatever the hell hilda or gordeau are getting themselves into or if he's just invested in researching something (or just a particularly good novel)

sleeping habit headcanons - again, major insomniac. probably wakes up pretty early too? or just sleeps in constantly, probably claims that he thinks better at night or something like that. which is fair honestly. also probably mumbles or talks in his sleep. about what? i have no fuckin idea

headcanons about the first thing they do after waking up - notably, his usual hairstyle is...actually just a bedhead apparently. so i imagine he...doesn't pay much mind to any sort of morning routine. wakes up. caffeinates himself (he'd either like absolutely BLACK coffee or he'd love overly sweet lattes and stuff. i cant decide) and then gets to business. even if his business is just sitting there looking pretty. good for him

headcanons about their favourite place - obviously probably likes to hang around gordeau's bar, nice place to get a couple drinks and read quietly or to just chat with a mere buddy of his. that and also the library like thats where he just hangs out before he joins amnesia afaik

[twosides--samecoin]

oc interview tag

long tag, made me feel short winded for once! this was a lot of fun though. featuring a fourth wall break

also how fuckin' wack that I went into fic with journalism skills trying to figure out my first fic/creative writing only to go do a writer tag that's an interview. Also it was weird writing this in present tense

as tagged by @some27-url bilbo taggins: @anonymouscosmos @vault-heck @incognito-insomniac @edaworks

Name?

"Olivia Iosepha Dallaire."

Are you single?

"I'm not answering relationship questions."

Are you happy?

Olivia shrugs and focuses on giving Dogmeat a belly rub.

Are you angry?

Her brow furrows a little and she nods as her hands knead his fur.

Are your parents still married?

"They never divorced."

Birth place?

"Vault 150, located in [NDA VIOLATION]."

Hair color?

"Ginger."

Eye color?

"Blue."

Birthday?

"May 7."

Mood?

"Truthfully, I'm scared because I agreed to move to Boston and I feel like I should never have flown here, but I have a job to do. I miss the way my life was before things went bad at the vault. I miss my dad and my friends. I'm surrounded by people now, but I feel more alone than I was before Jack and RJ picked me up. I knew the forests and mountains back home; Boston is way more dangerous, and I don't know this place at all. Dogmeat makes me feel better - without him I'd be crying all day."

Gender?

"She/they."

Summer or winter?

"I miss both summer and winter back home. It's fall in Boston. I don't know what summer or winter are like here."

Morning or afternoon?

"I miss mornings at home on the lake. Sanctuary has a lake but it's not the same."

=EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE=

Are you in love?

«Je ne comprends pas.»

Do you believe in love at first sight?

"I believe I need to get away from this conversation."

Who ended your last relationship?

Olivia is rubbing Dogmeat's fur instead of humouring the question.

Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Dogmeat's ears are flattening against his head. We're all under an NDA for that kind of thing, you know. It's not personal. Well, actually, it's very personal, and that's the problem. Lady tells me tons of secrets, but it's different with humans. Jack said she had a hard time saying much at all to him and RJ. I'm sure she'll come around to the tough questions - for now we're getting her settled in.

Are you afraid of commitments?

Olivia is nuzzling into Dogmeat's neck instead of answering.

Jack walks over from the kitchen and answers the question in her stead. "We're just taking it one minute at a time."

Have you hugged someone within the last week?

"Only my Puppy." She kisses Dogmeat on the cheek and he groans at the name. "And Jack," she says as he places his arm around her shoulders for a squeeze.

Have you ever had a secret admirer?

"I hope not."

"Had fans when I was a pro boxer. Before the bombs fell, before I got fridged. It was weird."

Have you ever broken your own heart?

"Why would I do that on purpose?"

Jack looks out the window. He never ends up answering.

=SIX CHOICES=

Love or lust?

"Both exist, I think," is Jack's take. He looks to Olivia and she gives him a shrug with a nod that said Sure.

Lemonade or iced tea?

Olivia has no idea what these things are. She has a hard time conceptualizing how lemonade tastes; the words tart, sour, lemony, acidic don't mean much to her. Jack tells her she would probably prefer sweet tea. He explains these new drink concepts and makes a note to find a way to make sweet tea, since lemonade was out of the question in the post-apocalypse.

Cats or dogs?

Dogmeat looks at Olivia. She looks him dead in the eye. "Cats."

He whines at the mention. Oh don't say that-

"I'm joking," she says, giving him another big hug.

Jack chuckles at them. "I'd say we're a dog family,"

"I like all animals, though!"

A few best friends or many regular friends?

"Just Dogmeat."

"We keep it close."

Wild night out or romantic night in?

"Why not both?"

Olivia nods in agreement.

Day or night?

"Night. Especially now that it's getting colder. I've been installing wood stoves in Sanctuary and we'll have a comfortable winter this year."

=FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS=

Been caught sneaking out?

Jack chuckles. "Sure. Who hasn't?"

Fallen down/up the stairs?

Jack shrugs. "Who hasn't?"

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?

Jack turns his attention to rubbing Dogmeat's ear.

N-D-Fucking-A. You can keep trying, we're not gonna bite. Well. I could be convinced.

Wanted to disappear?

"I don't want; instead, I do," says Olivia. She demonstrates with a Stealth Boy.

Jack sounds crestfallen. "Oh, no.. Miss Olivia, don't do that.."

=FOUR PREFERENCES=

Smile or eyes?

Neither Jack or Olivia can decide.

Shorter or taller?

They both shrug.

Intelligence or attraction?

"Those aren't opposites," says Olivia.

Hook-up or relationship?

"Why put a cap on it? It doesn't have to be everything or anything at all."

=FAMILY=

Do you and your family get along?

"Well.." says Jack. "Y'know, things are looking up, I'd say."

Would you say you have a “messed up life”?

Olivia and Jack look at each other and smile. "Who doesn't?" they ask simultaneously. They break out into giggles.

Have you ever run away from home?

"I suppose I just did," said Olivia.

"Naw," said Jack. "I kidnapped you."

"I chose to move here."

"Exactly," he said. "It was your choice to move to Boston."

Her jaw dropped.

"Got 'em," he told her with a wink.

Have you ever gotten kicked out?

"No," said Jack. "Have you..?"

Olivia shakes her head.

=FRIENDS=

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

"I don't do two-faced shit like that," says Olivia.

Do you consider all of your friends good friends?

"Well, personally, my only friends are good friends," says Jack. "I only have close friends. If we don't trust, we're not friends."

Olivia nods in agreement.

Who is your best friend?

Both are focusing a lot more on Dogmeat. Jack answers the question by tilting his head towards Olivia and Dogmeat.

Who knows everything about you?

The person who made us sign the NDA agreements.