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#breakfast is a nebulous concept anyway
chickenparm · 1 year
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Proof of Concept (Kaveh/gn!Reader)
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So, I read his story leaks, had a legitimate weep over this stupid, beatiful man, then set everything to the side for a moment to crank this out. Originally it was meant to be "ha ha silly dramatics" and then it very quickly evolved into "let's explore kaveh's deep-seated abandonment issues and his skewed perception of his self-worth".
anyway, enjoy, expect more kaveh.
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Kaveh/gn!Reader 3,847 Words - SFW Hurt/Comfort, spiraling internal monologues about self-worth in a relationship, slight codependency, resolved angst, Kaveh cries but never in front of anyone and you can't change my mind.
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Kaveh owes more to you than Dori ever could have conjured up as a debt to keep him in shackles. Yet you don’t hold him down, you don’t demand constant recompense. In fact, you never make mention at all that the betterment of his life and mental health stems from you and you alone. 
When he moved out of Alhaitham’s home and into yours, Alhaitham had a rare show of concern that to any other onlooker might have been mistaken for cruelty or unnecessary jabs. But Kaveh is well aware of Alhaitham’s thought processes, loathe as he is to admit it, and understands that Alhaitham’s question isn’t posed out of malice, but of a subtle concern for someone that had once been his friend, and now exists in a nebulous in-between. 
Are you sure it’s wise to place so much stock in them? Your trust has been misplaced before, don’t put it in the wrong place again.
Perhaps on another day, Kaveh might’ve nearly spit in Alhaitham’s face for questioning both his and your integrity. But there’s something bittersweet about standing in the doorway of this home with the knowledge that it might be his last time here as a resident. Quietly, he shuts the door rather than leaves, and asks, “It must look pathetic, doesn’t it?”
“Unbelievably so, but I figured you wouldn’t welcome such an observation.”
“But you still feel the need to make it.” Kaveh’s back thuds against the door as he leans on it, the last bag of his belongings falling to the tiled floor. “I’ve always done what I think is right. Even at the detriment to myself. So tell me, Alhaitham, what would you have me do?”
“That’s not for me to decide. You and I both know that our ways of thinking are very different.” Alhaitham could have been more roundabout in calling Kaveh an idiot, but the blond appreciates Alhaitham’s candor tonight, nonetheless. “I’m just saying, don’t be blinded by your feelings to the point of tripping into yet another difficult situation. I’m under no obligation to help you again.”
No obligation, but he probably would anyway.
“Well, I won’t haunt your humble doorstep again, in that case.”
Kaveh wouldn’t dream of asking outright, he’d simply be sitting at the breakfast table one morning with red-rimmed eyes and a despondency that Alhaitham would pointedly ignore. They’d fall into the usual routine, and Alhaitham would call back into the house to remind Kaveh of the rent that’s been overdue since the first month Kaveh moved in. 
Yes, Kaveh knows his attachment is pathetic. But a lifetime of transient relationships from the most mundane scholar down to his own parents - one more permanent than the other - leaves him with an emptiness in his chest that he’s relished and nurtured up until the very moment you came along and filled it so easily. 
Your home is empty when he returns to it later that night. If you’d been here and asked, he’d have told you the trust that he took the long way home to clear his head. And then you’d ask if he spoke with Alhaitham before leaving. Kaveh would say yes, and you’d ask no more questions because if anyone understood the weird, hot-and-cold friendship of antagonism he shares with the Scribe, it would be you. 
But you aren’t home, and these questions aren’t exchanged, because he’d been adamant he finish bringing over the last few bits of his belongings while you were still out working. I don’t want to trouble you, Kaveh all but whined when you offered to call out of work for the day, for something that would only take an hour or so at most. 
Though, his little detour cost him the majority of that hour, but it’s fine. You weren’t home, you don’t notice the pinched expression on his face as he places the last of his tools in the spare bedroom you offered him to use as his office space. Much more roomy than the corner Alhaitham had afforded him, with a spacious desk you let him pick out himself, because this was his space, in the home you now share. 
If requested, he’d drop to his knees before the Dendro Archon herself and profess his love for you. Thoughts of grand exclamations of his affections danced through his mind between memorized ratios for concrete and recollected dimensions of a particular building he’s been commissioned to renovate. 
None of those had come to fruition. One morning, when he stayed over at this very house, in the very bed across the hall, you’d rolled over and cracked your eyes open before murmuring your love for him at the time of day when honesty at its most raw. And he’d taken you into his arms all over again, clutching you to his chest and stubbornly refusing to let you go lest you see the tears welling in his eyes. 
Kaveh doesn’t cry in front of you, nor anyone else. Bottling it up is just easier. Then he can unpack things later, and truly feel the crushing weight of everything when he’s the only one that will suffer the consequences. He’s the only one that deserves to suffer through them.
It had been a long time since someone claimed any sort of affection for him, platonic or otherwise. At least in any way that felt clear and true. Sure, his mother sends letters from Fontaine, and she closes them with an obligatory sentence about how she loves her son, tucked between sentences about her new husband and how she’s found happiness again. 
Why couldn’t it have been in a place I could be, too? He wonders later at night, but then he feels you shift in his arms in the darkness of the room and doesn’t mind so much anymore. If he’d followed her to Fontaine, he never would’ve made friends with Tighnari, who never would have introduced him to you, who never would have allowed him to love with all he has. 
Kaveh’s heart had to learn to beat in new ways, to accommodate the affection you provide him, and the room he’s been given to exercise such muscles. 
One by one, he places tools on his desk and aligns them carefully according to his muscle memory. In the midst of a bout of inspiration, little time can be wasted on lifting his eyes to find the right pencil, the right scale, the right template. It’s in the midst of a focus similar to that he doesn’t hear the front door open, or quiet steps down the short hallway. 
But the corner of his eyes catch you standing in the doorway, watching him quietly with an unreadable expression. When Kaveh gives you his full attention, your mouth blooms into a familiar smile as you step into the room. “Everything go okay? Sorry I couldn’t be around to help.”
“There wasn’t much to help with.” Kaveh waves a hand, swatting away your apologies that are unwarranted. “Besides, I don’t want to-”
“-be trouble, I know.” An exasperated look crosses your face, just for a second. Kaveh’s heart clenches - he’s not fond of seeing anything on your face that isn’t happiness. He’s yet to reach the end of your patience, but everyone has a limit. It takes only one single brick for a load bearing wall to crumble. Tonight especially, he’s come to realize that the structure of his wellbeing has been carefully crafted around you as its foundation. 
Kaveh is snapped out of his thoughts as you take his hand in your own. Like surfacing from a still pool of water he hadn’t realized he’d been drowning in, Kaveh takes a sharp breath and looks at you with a smooth mix of astonishment and gratitude. The exasperation is gone, and in its place is worry. “Are you alright? Are you having second thoughts?”
“Never.” Kaveh says a little too forcefully, a little too vehement. It’s not himself he needs to convince of his adamancy for this being a good decision; he could never regret sharing a home with you and building it further. It’s you, who is suddenly looking concerned. Kaveh takes your other hand as well, his fingers lacing with yours until they’re pressed palm-to-palm. “Just silly thoughts in my head that have been plaguing me all day. Nothing for you to worry about, dear, I just need to shake them off.”
“If you’re sure…” You’re not convinced. But you don’t push, and he won’t reveal a thing until he’s ready. He only hopes that his hand won’t be forced in the form of begging you to put up with him a little longer rather than cast him to the side. Swallowing hard, he pushes those thoughts away with vicious force. You’re not leaving him, he’s done nothing wrong, the two of you are in love-
Again, he’s drawn from his head by your fingers squeezing his own comfortingly. “Then, I’ll believe you. I’m gonna make dinner, anything you want in particular? Sounds like you’ve had a hard day.”
“I’m fine with whatever’s easy for you. I’m going to be in here a little longer getting things set up, if you don’t need help.”
A shrug, a quiet agreement, and your lips pressed to his cheek saying more words than you’ve let free verbally. All he needs to do is call your name, and you’d turn right back around and listen to what’s laying heavily on his mind. But how does it go about telling you that what sits on his shoulders with the most weight is the prospect of you growing tired of him, of you realizing that there might be another out there that offers more for you than he could ever hope to?
So, Kaveh lets you go and turns back to his drafting table. Muscle memory or not, he’s realized he’s placed his tools in the wrong order anyway.
---
Kaveh expected things to feel different. 
He’s not disappointed - no, he’s actually rather happy about it all. Living with you had been something he fretted over for months before you were the one to bring it up. To be in your presence constantly was a gift for him, and you expressed the same sentiment, but there’s always a part of him gnawing away at his resolve. 
Perhaps you’re just being nice, or you don’t feel the need to tell him outright that maybe he’s a little too loud at night while working on scale models. Maybe you don’t find it necessary to reveal your annoyances when Kaveh forgets to wash his coffee cup before leaving in the morning, or when he wakes up before you and rams his shin on the edge of the bed because he doesn’t want to turn any lights on to disturb you. 
You’re disturbed anyway, but your smile is nothing but sweet and sympathetic as he stands on one leg and clutches his shin and tries to bite back his swears of both pain and frustration at himself. Honestly, it’s been weeks, he should be used to the layout even before moving in, when he stayed here often enough that it seemed the natural next step. 
When he brings up his apologies for all those made-up grievances - his loud tendencies, his infrequent scatterbrained memory in times of hurry, the growing bruise on his shin - you’re purely confused at it all. 
“I’m sorry for being so loud the other night.”
“Were you loud? Ah, Alhaitham mentioned something like that. He gave me these little squishy things to put in my ears so I can still sleep, see?”
And that’s one worry that slips away from him with only a few words from you. You’d never been upset in the first place. 
“I’ll try to remember to do my dishes before I leave.”
“Oh, your cup? I make myself breakfast and have to do my own dishes anyway. It’s okay if you leave it, I’ll get it for you.”
He still feels a little guilty when he sets the mug next to the sink, and decides on a happy medium where he rinses it out at least. There, now they both can be satisfied with the outcome, he tells himself as he stomps down the doubt beginning to creep in once more. 
As you sit with him in the bathroom after his incident with the side of the bed and his shin, you make him sit on the counter so you can observe the growing bruise. Your fingers poke and prod, and while he hisses in discomfort a few times, you’re satisfied that it at least isn’t broken in any way. “You’ll make a full recovery, my good patient.”
“So no amputations? Thank goodness, what a relief.” Kaveh’s head rolls back to really emphasize his appreciation for keeping all his limbs, and also to hide the way his cheeks flush pink and his nerves creep to the surface. You’re not normally awake at this hour, yet here you are kneeling in front of him as you return from the kitchen with an ice pack. 
The chill of it pressing to his skin makes him inhale sharply, and your laughter fills the bathroom as you look far too mischievous for that to have been a mistake. “Guess you didn’t hear my warning. Whoops!”
Kaveh knows damn well you hadn’t said a word. Lost in thoughts or not, he’s got enough presence of mind to keep an iota of attention on you - Kaveh is always watching, always on the lookout for your moods, always worried that this next minor slip-up will be the one to make you realize it’s easier to disentangle yourself from him. 
Almost everyone else does.
But things fall into a rhythm as he settles into the home you now share with him. Kaveh forgets his keys once, and the next time he finds a spare key tucked into the eaves of the house without a word of admonishment on your part. You come home late from work one evening and he’s made your favorite dinner and washed up the dishes. 
And a new project is breaking ground and requiring him to be out later than usual, more often than not. By the time he gets home, you’re fast asleep, leftovers in the fridge for him if he’s hungry. Even if he isn’t, he eats them anyway, if only because you put the effort into thinking of him. Kaveh only hopes you hadn’t been waiting up for him. 
Tentatively, he closes the bedroom door and leans on it. You’re curled around his pillow, your face buried in the fabric as you fell asleep while inhaling his scent. His heart clenches, panic creeping in at the thought of you going to bed alone and pining for him while he was miles away working. 
Kaveh should have been here. He should have been firm that he wasn’t going to stay late at the site, so he could return home to his partner and ensure that they’re happy, and laughing, and not lonely in the slightest. Precedence should’ve been given to you, because you’ve always given it to him. He’s been unbelievably selfish and self-centered, and only realized it when it was just a little too-
“Kaveh…?” Your voice breaks through, mired with your leftover sleep as you break from a dream and look at him through cracked eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Everything, he wants to say, and it’s my fault.
The light catches on his jaw as he chews his cheek, and your eyes zero in from across the room. A nervous tick, something he does when he’s stalling for time and thinking of an answer that he thinks is going to be the most diplomatic. Yet he’s never needed to be that way with you, he’s supposed, and under your scrutiny he quietly cracks. 
The bed dips under him as he disrobes and climbs beneath the sheets. Rather than push you out of his space meant for him to sleep in, he simply winds himself into the empty spaces left amongst your limbs until his chest is pressed to your back in a perfect curve. Nowhere ever feels as right as when he’s pressed against you. The only time his heart feels as if it’s beating at a proper tempo is when it’s perfectly matching yours. 
And the thought of losing this, of having ruined things with thoughtless actions makes his lungs feel too shallow to pull in a full breath of air. They shudder with the effort, stinging just as much as his eyes as he buries his face into the crook of your neck and hopes to every Archon listening that you don’t feel the dampness on your skin from his overwhelming feelings. 
Kaveh flinches as your hand comes to rest on his forearm winding around your waist. The tips of your fingers trace along his skin, along silvery scars you’ve memorized from that accident so long ago that had been so detrimental to him mentally, rather than physically. Beneath the pads of your fingers, they’re less obtrusive, even after years of smoothing via the passage of time. 
Biting his tongue, Kaveh holds his breath to avoid the quake of his body as it attempts to breathe in and then let it all out in a harsh sob. You don’t need this, you don’t need to know why he’s desolate, even if it’s because of you. Desperately, he wants to keep you close, to show that he can do better if you’ll only give him another chance, and another, and another…
“Kaveh, darling, why are you crying?” Your voice has more clarity now; you hadn’t gone back to sleep after he took you into his arms. Kaveh should’ve figured that, and he self-admonishes that it would be awfully difficult to remain asleep if your lover was clinging to you and wetting your skin with their tears. 
How does he begin to tell you what he’s feeling? Of all the seminars and lectures he’d been to during his time in the Akademiya, a fair few of them began with a question for the audience. It’s as good a tactic as any, and he pulls away to wet his lips and grimace at the salt gathered there from his tears. Quietly, he poses the question, “Are you going to leave me?”
Anyone else would have responded with an outburst. A demand to explain what he’s talking about, how he’s come to that conclusion, why they’re being accused of that. But a quiet sigh leaves you as your fingers continue their trail along the skin of his arms. It’s not a denial, not at first, and his breath starts to pick up before you adeptly calm him with only a few words. 
“I knew something was going on in that pretty head of yours.” You don’t turn to look at him, affording him a bit of privacy when you could’ve easily looked him in the eye and put him on the spot. Kaveh leans heavily against you, burying his face in your neck once more to take in whatever comfort he can glean from you before you let him down. It would only be your right, of course. 
Your hand stops, instead wrapping around his wrist, to pull it from your body. When his hand is freed, you lace your fingers together and squeeze hard. The sharp sting makes him inhale, clears his thoughts for just a moment so he can fully listen as you say, “I’ll never leave you, Kaveh. But I need you to tell me what brought this one on.”
The wording is precise; this isn’t the first time. It can be attributed to a myriad of things, but they all can be boiled down to their base level of definition. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Says who? You?” It’s a bit biting, but that’s what he needs right now, he knows. Softness lets him slip away, lets him dig deep into his woes and wrap them tightly to the point of strangulation. Only a firm hand is enough to keep him grounded in the moment, to keep him listening to what you have to say. “Kaveh, there’s only one person who gets to decide who deserves me, and that’s me. And there’s no one else that I’d rather love than you. I’m not going to leave you, even if you want me to. You’re stuck with me.”
Stuck. As if you were the burden, not the one in this relationship that shoulders the majority of burdens. Kaveh lets out a quivering sigh, one that breezes across your skin amongst the wetness left there, chilling to the point of goosebumps. “I love you. I just feel like I don’t give you everything that you need, or deserve. The entire world is just out of my grasp.”
“I feel rather fulfilled without the whole world, thank you.” Sass seeps through, your fingers tightening around his own briefly before you shift back further against him. The gesture emphasizes your adamancy as you say rather plainly, “Excess is just that. I don’t need anything more than what you’re already giving me - your love, and companionship. Seeing you happy is all I want, Kaveh. Are you happy with me?”
“Unbelievably so, that’s why I’m terrified that you’re not. It would be so easy for you to just… cut loose and count your losses-”
“Easy for whom? Certainly not for me, because losing you would be something I’d never fully recover from.” The hand not holding his reaches up to tangle in his hair for a moment, fingers pushing hair behind his ear in a blind, clumsy movement that he leans into on instinct. Your voice is lower and even as you remind him of a simple fact that he often overlooks in his moments of weakness. “I love you. You mean everything to me.”
The tension in his shoulders eases, the tightness of his jaw loosens so he can feel the ache of his teeth from the pressure. He hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been wound until you deftly untangle him with so little effort. The tremble of his voice is unmistakable as a fresh wave of tears come, this time in relief. “I love you, too. So much that it hurts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Probably the same as me, which is ‘be a disaster’. We’re better together, Kaveh. There’s nothing you could do that would make me love you any less.” 
A sharp whoosh of air leaves you as his arms suddenly wind tight, abandoning your hand in favor of simply clinging to you with all the strength he can muster. 
Kaveh expected things to feel different. And they do, bit by bit. It’s a work in progress, a first draft, a proof of concept as the two of you build toward something safe and wonderful. In the morning, he’ll drink his coffee and hold your words close enough that the heat and pressure will burn them into the fibers of his beating heart, meant only for you. 
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your-highnessmarvel · 3 years
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From Bleak to Bright - Part Eight
All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.
AN: this chapter is long but the end is worth it puppies;)
Warnings: angst, language
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MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST
PART EIGHT
Loki never came back home that night. Nor the next morning. It was odd without him in the loft. You ventured to other rooms, which as you’d guessed, were other rooms. You didn’t want to sleep in Loki’s gold bed with silk sheets. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea if he came back home from some sort of battle or whatever he did when he was out. 
You didn’t want him finding his soulmate in his bed and think something was going to go down.
Not yet anyway. 
You cringed at that thought, sitting on the side of the bed you’d borrowed last night. Your feet hung from the edge; the bed was so gigantic you’d practically thrown yourself into it to be able to board the goddamn thing. 
You peaked from the open door, listening for any sound, but the loft was dark and quiet, just as you’d left it the night before. There were no windows in this place, so you went through the hallway and kitchen, flicking on lights in your cotton pajamas you’d taken from Loki’s wardrobe. 
He’d stocked the kitchen with all assortment of human candies. Twizzlers. Starbursts. Lucky Charms. 
Sour Puss? Why did Loki buy eighteen-year-old liquor? 
You made yourself a bowl of Lucky Charms, playing with your cereal, wondering what the hell you were supposed to do for the day. As far as you’d seen, there were no books. No internet. No computer to play games. What the hell did Loki even do in this loft anyway?
A fleeting thought answered you. All of this is temporary. This is not his home and it never will be.
The bare walls, the rooms full of nothingness, no paraphernalia of any kind anywhere. There weren’t any of his clothes in the wardrobe either. Loki just slept here. Barely. 
The bathroom was sparkling, as if no one had ever used it. The loft smelled like a new car, the leather couches gleaming and new.
You weren’t going to stay here long, either. 
Loki was on Earth temporarily, surviving on Lucky Charms and illusions. 
You didn’t know what to make of yourself, and you certainly weren’t about to lie on your bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for the God of Mischief to grace you with his presence. No. 
After breakfast, you dressed in black trousers and t-shirt, and a pair of boots that would sustain a lot of walking. You tied your hair in a low braid.
You took one large breath before grabbing the front door and yanking. If Loki had locked you in, you’d kill him.
But the door swung open, breaking open the cap on the noise. Chatter, clanking, beeping, smoke came crashing to your senses as you opened up the door to the lab sitting just on the other side. The unbearable heat washed over you as you stepped out, your eyes taking in the ragged, sprung up lab life vibrating before you. 
Curiously, you ventured deeper, keeping close to the wall, making sure no one really paid attention to you. Everyone there seemed really, really into their job, anyway. As if they were in a trance. 
Mind control, you thought shyly. Loki had used his staff, you were sure. Upon closer inspection, heart beating in your chest, inching closer to a woman overly invested in a piece of glass, you saw it. The blurred gaze. Irises as blue and nebulous as the tip of Loki’s staff. Broken, chapped lips. Skin ashy and sickened, as if she hadn’t eaten or drank anything in days. Or slept. The sunken, black skin beneath her eyes told you this lab worked 24/7. 
Gulping, you whirled, trying to find the exit. People milled by you, paying you no mind. As if you were just another one of them. 
This was making you sick, the moral of it all reaching a valuable place inside you. The fact that Loki has stuffed these peoples’ heads with - what? - and turned them into living, breathing robots made you want to yell. At him, mostly.
Just then you spotted a sign over a door. Exit. Well, at least Loki cared about fire safety. You walked to it, determined, and all but burst through the doors, the sound of them slamming shut behind you echoing into the hallway, which you walked through with the same harsh pace. 
It was only when you’d burst into the warehouse, the sound disrupting the small bubble of peace, did you finally take a deep, soothing breath. The outside world shimmered before you, just beyond the yawning mouth of the warehouse. You saw a shimmering horizon, hot, blazing cement.
This wasn’t a warehouse, you realized. It was a hangar. A huge, awning hangar with a stolen, SHIELD-issued jet in the far left corner. 
You remembered how you even got here - the tightening of your skin, the feeling of it ripping and rippling as time and space shivered around you. No wonder you didn’t remember the extent of the “warehouse” when you’d landed here, the state of your mind and stomach making you woozy.
“Hey!”
Someone came running to you. It was one of those tall, all-black clad figures. His reflective mask glimmered in the lights of the hangar as he jogged to you, left hand on his hip, where a baton dangled.
“You’re not supposed to leave,” he said, his voice monotone, emotionless. Robotic. Controlled.
Frowning, taking a careful step back, you said, “I’m not allowed to leave?”
“Correct.” Then, more harshly. “Loki’s demands.”
There was a brief, hot red moment where you wanted to batter your fists against this man’s entire being, but then you remembered he didn’t even know he was here. He was being mind controlled. He was just a body, just like the entirety of the lab buzzing behind you. 
“I want to leave,” you said, squaring your shoulders.
“Impossible.”
You set your jaw, looking at this guard from under your brows. “Loki,” you said, unsure if this would work. “Loki, tell this idiot to step out of my way or so help me God I will destroy your precious little lab behind me.” Just to emphasize your words, you put your hand back on the doorknob.
There was a second where you thought the guard would just burst out laughing and bend over, mocking you. But he just stood there, reflective mask showing you your distorted reflection. 
And then his head cocked, his hands flexed. 
You knew Loki was listening, through whatever kind of bond he’d set on these people. 
“Let me go, Loki,” you grit through your teeth. 
The guard shrugged. “I am inclined to watch what you’ll do with this little freedom,” the guard said, Loki’s words in his mouth distorted. “But I am afraid the Avengers are hot on your trail.”
Your fists clenched. “There’s nothing but Lucky Charms in the loft,” you groaned. “What in the hell am I supposed to do?”
The guard chuckled. “Wait for me to come home in a little skirt with dinner?” he suggested sarcastically.
You wanted to hit him, but you knew you’d only be hurting this mind-controlled man and not Loki. 
“Wow, I never took you for a backwards and traditional man,” you gritted.
Another chuckle, but this one felt condescending. “I am only expressing my deepest fantasy, darling.”
“Ew.” Then you inhaled, closing your eyes, mustering the energy to talk to him. “Loki, please, I -��“
The guard put his hand up. “I am coming back soon, my darling,” he said, again, his voice distorted by Loki’s words. “I have stocked the living room with books you may enjoy in the meantime.”
And then the guard shuddered, his head dropping momentarily, Loki’s persona stripping itself from the stranger. The guard inhaled sharply, took one long look at you, and then turned on his heel and headed back to his post. 
You were tempted to make a run for it, but where? You had no idea where you were. The shimmering, hot horizon indicated not New York. And it’s not like you knew how to pilot a jet. 
With a bruised ego and a slump to your shoulders, you walked back to the loft, passing through the heated, messed-up lab without a wayward look. And as Loki had promised - through the guard - the living room table was stacked with leather bound books.
You picked one up. Legends and Myths of the Gods; Odin’s Pantheon. You rolled your eyes. Of course, Loki had stocked your book requiem with stories about him. How had you not seen this coming?
You huffed, throwing yourself on the brand new leather couch, opening the book, the spine cracking from time unused. 
The first chapter was all about Odin’s conception, down right to Loki’s adoption from the Frost Giants on Jotunnheim. A brisk, fleeting thought went to young Loki, learning that his father was not really his father, and that his mother, who loved him so, was not the one to bring him into this world. 
You skimmed through the chapters on Thor, because, let’s be honest, all you truly wanted to get to was Loki’s life. 
You read about his trickery, his skill and love for magic, something he’d picked up from the Queen. How Loki loved horses and literature. He loved delicacy, the richness of royalty, women, and - 
You read it over. Yes, Loki loved women. A lump formed in your throat as you skipped along, trying to find mention of any women in Loki’s life. All you found of concrete evidence was the women in his realm had started calling him Silver Tongue.
A blush crept up your cheeks, heating the flesh so bad that you had to slam the book shut.
And Loki stood right behind it, leaning against the wall leisurely. You all but jumped in your seat, knees to your chest, book clattering to the ground. 
He laughed. “Curious about good ol’ Loki’s past?” he asked, sauntering over, throwing himself down next to you. He lounged his left arm over the back of the couch, his dark blue sweater stretching over the expanse of his chest. 
Oh, if only he knew just what past exactly you were looking at. 
He spread his knees, black trousers clean, completely at ease. 
You gulped, pressing your knees further into your chest. He quirked his brow, his question still unanswered. 
“Oh,” you said, stuttering with the next words trying to come out. “I was just, um, reading through your family history.” Silver Tongue, you wanted to say. 
He huffed. “Nothing interesting there,” he hummed. You felt like there was something more to it, but you didn’t want to dig deeper because maybe you’d unveil something you didn’t want to see.
“Where were you?” you asked, deciding that maybe this conversation was going in a direction you rather not go. Yet.
He smiled. “Didn’t want to wait for me with dinner?”
You rolled your eyes. “I couldn’t find a skirt,” you mumbled sarcastically.
His brows rose so high on his forehead, you thought they’d fall off his face. “I could provide one, if you wish.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting the heat on your cheeks. You unbent your knees, picking the book off the floor and replacing it on the pile. “I don’t like skirts,” you said, not really sure why you were saying this. 
“Why?” he asked, frowning. His left hand, the one draped over the couch, was dangerously close to the back of your head. “You’d look good in them.”
Again, heat rose to your cheeks, a group of butterflies taking flight in your belly. “No, I’m, uh, self-conscious.”
He leaned closer, frowning, the smell of him invading your senses in a rush. His knee bumped yours and your eyes fell there, where there was only the fabric of both your pants separating your skin. 
“Why?” he said, his voice low. 
You gulped. “I’ve never liked... my legs,” you admitted with a nonchalant shrug, still looking at his stupid left knee. 
There was a silence, a long silence, and you still stared at his knee as if his knee would start telling that your legs were nice.
Instead, his left hand landed on your thigh, not gripping, not groping, just lightly touching. When you looked up at him, his eyes bore into yours with a sincerity you’d never seen before. 
A small smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m sure you’re just as beautiful from the waist down.”
It was a weak attempt at making you feel better, but at least he tried. And even if it almost made you laugh, the idea that Loki thought you were beautiful made something tug deep in your belly. 
His hand shifted, fingers grazing exposed skin at your neck, tracing lines on your flesh. Raising goosebumps. Humming to himself. 
“You have such wonderful skin,” he murmured. You looked down at his lips molding the words. His fingers inched to your jaw, tracing up to the corner of your eye, bringing fire up with him. “Such beautiful eyes.” His words were like a melody to you, your body buzzing, reacting as much to his words as his touch.
His finger slid down to your lips, tracing the bottom one with his thumb, and you involuntarily turned to him. His eyes dropped down to your mouth quickly, returning to your gaze with a new, flickering flame. “Such a charming mouth,” he said, his voice roach, low, almost a whisper. 
You swallowed hard and Loki watched your throat bob. 
He inclined his head, his forehead grazing yours. You wanted to reach up, grasp the strands of his hair, but your fists were glue at your sides. 
He smirked, huffing. “I’ve wanted a soulmate for so long,” he admitted in a low voice. He licked his lips. Inching closer to you on the couch. “I want to do so many things to you,” he whispered.
You felt the heat creep up your face and you looked down, Loki’s thumb pushing against your lips, and he chuckled softly. 
“If you want to kiss something, I’m right here,” he said mockingly, and you smiled, pushing his hand away. He laughed softly, replacing his hand on the back of the couch.
He gave you a second to regain the normal temperature of your skin before chuckling to himself. “If you were in Asgard,” he said, his voice faraway. “People would bow to you. They’d call you Princess. You’d have a title and land. A crown. They’d call you My Lady when you are being stubborn.” 
You tried not to imagine it, really, you did. You tried not to imagine what a life could be like with Loki, on splendid and gold Asgard, living out your mortal days with a God. You really tried not to imagine it all because then it meant leaving Bruce behind, and leaving him in New York had not been easy, but leaving your brother forever? The thought was unimaginable. 
A lump rose in your throat when you said, “Tell me more.” You leaned into the couch, bringing your knees to your chest, chin on your kneecaps. 
Loki smiled brightly, his fingers lightly playing with your hair, and told what your life would be like if you were immortal, if you were Asgardian, if you were not truly and wholly you.
tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor 
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pepperonitimeline · 4 years
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Multiple Timeline Theory........ 2!
Here is the original post!
So, if Steven Universe is made up of multiple timelines, but shown in an order that makes the events seem linear, how many are there?
Uhhhh at least 3?
There are 2 timelines we already know about, Steven Classic (episodes 1-22) which ceases to exist after being Sanded in the last act of Steven and The Stevens. And the new timeline created by that event. 
But *Yoda voice* There Is Another
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🌟📽The Actor Timeline🎞🌟
Let’s...... start with the Dove shorts. Here’s a playlist with all of them. They’re technically commercials, but there’s no mention of Dove apart from a vanity card at the end of each of them. They feel like shorts. Staff from the show worked on them as well.
In regards to whether the Dove Self-Esteem Project shorts were canon, RS gave a nebulous answer via Instagram: 
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New SU Dove short out today -Stevonnie & Social Media! Featuring more beautiful animation by @chromospherestudio to anyone wondering if these shorts are canon, please know that I write them myself!
So like........ that’s not a no? 
If we are looking at them as being a part of a distinct timeline, all the characters are actors. What's odd about it is everyone seems to be playing themselves in a show about their lives?
In many of them the characters go off script- for example in Body Talk (seen above) when Bismuth goes off-script she recounts the rebellion, in tandem with Pearl tearing up and saying "I'm just so glad you're back!"
So to an extent the events of the show really did happen? But also at some point they agree to make a show? 
In Media and Celebrities, Lamar Abrams, real storyboard artist is directing.
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I’m not sure if the person next to him or any other human in these shorts are based on someone real. 
Wait, isn’t Steven Universe from the perspective of Steven? Steven’s not present in some of these. Or is he?
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In Appearance Related Teasing and Bullying it would seem Steven isn’t there, until Jasper wrecks the set. He’s behind the background thingie. It’s possible he’s around in all of them, just not on-screen.
Moving on the the actual show, remember when A Very Special Episode had that twist ending where the whole episode was a PSA about time management?
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As Sunstone skates off the set...  it’s the set from Media and Celebrities. In the background there’s even a portrait of Peridot and Lamar.
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Sunstone's debut is in Change Your Mind, where they immediately talk to the audience, that’s their whole shtick, is being like a cool mascot that reminds you to memorize your phone number and change the batteries in your smoke detector. I don’t think CYM necessarily in the Actor Timeline though.
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In one episode of the podcast, Battle Of Heart and Mind, it’s stated that all Garnet fusions can see the fourth wall. They all have this ability, in general. But only one other fusion shows it off. Yard Sard!
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In another episode of the podcast, Vol.1 Episode 10: Leading The Way a fan asked "Is Steven Universe canonically just a cartoon and if so is Sardonyx aware of this?"
RS answered within the show it's reality. But Sardonyx has a "transcendent mind" and can "see outside of what's going on".
What’s interesting she only begins to do that after entering her room, which is like a weird void where she summons things as needed. It should be noted that we’re seeing things from Smokey’s point of view (as all episodes are from Steven’s POV and Steven is currently fused with Amethyst aka Smokey) so as far as *they* can tell, it’s just a weird void. But to Sardonyx…?
There’s also that part where Smokey asks about the audience she’s like “I made them myself 88^)”
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So what can Sardonyx see? The audience? Or is she seeing into another timeline? Like one where she’s on a set? Like one Sardonyx Tonight is a real late night talk show? Because she’s famous?
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She segues to commercial, whispers to someone we can’t see if they have to pay Sugilite and/or Nicki Minaj for using a clip of her voice, asks someone named Jorge to “play (them) over to stage right”. Smokey asks who Jorge is but is ignored. Sardonyx doesn't seem to know that Smokey can't see what she's seeing.
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She’s also aware she’s on Cartoon Network? When they came back from “commercial” she did say "Don't those cartoon characters make you want to buy those products? I sure hope so, or else I'd be off air!"
Has she become aware they’re in a cartoon? Mmmmaybe?
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There was a time when CN aired live-action shows for some reason though. But then again Sardonyx also seems to think her room is just Like That? A post for another time perhaps....
Anyway, Know Your Fusion isn’t in the Actor Timeline, either, but Sardonyx can see it.
But The Movie- particularly the ending where they’re suddenly on Broadway for no reason?
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As Nerea pointed out, the backdrop used here is the same one used in the S1 opening. Are the openings the in-universe opening for their in-universe show as well?
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Say Uncle isn’t canon. It’s actually an in-universe crossover with Uncle Grandpa (known in the other timelines as “Inter-Dimensional Family Friend”) As was Crossover Nexus.
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Following that logic, Uncle Grandpa and OK K.O. are shows inside Steven’s world. That’s not too outlandish, considering Steven Universe is a show in Craig of The Creek’s world.
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(from The Other Side: The Tournament)
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(this one’s from The Pilot)
Not to mention OK K.O. is a video game in Steven and Craig’s world. Anything is possible in OK K.O.
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(Power Punchers)
We already went over UG but look at this (from the episode Costume Crisis)
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Personally (meaning this is a reach but I just think it’d be fun if it were true) in addition to everything else, I think all materials that break the 4th wall + had heavy involvement from the crew like books, shorts, etc. are real versions of in-universe products from this timeline. The Classroom Gems feel like PSAs that would play after the show aired on TV to teach the audience about Gems as if they were real.
Also they look like they were animated by whoever makes Crying Breakfast Friends in-universe?
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Fusion for Beginners and Experts feels very much in the same vein, an educational book on fusion as if it were real. (check out love-take-work’s rundown of the book!)
Like obviously these things exist to be cute, easy-to-understand guides on concepts from the show. And to be merch. But what if?
I don’t know how to end this. That Steven plush from Craig is based on a real plush (not my picture)
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He vexes me...
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moistwithgender · 6 years
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Curry watched anime: Summer 2018 edition
I guess I’m doing this now! I only really stuck to my Crunchyroll account, as I don’t have a HIDIVE or Amazon Prime sub, and Netflix doesn’t simulcast (I’ve been learning a lot of new terms over the last few months). I didn’t watch everything that was available to me either because I’m tired and etc you know me by now.
What’s that? You say I was supposed to be reading through old Marvel comics? You’re right, I fucked up. I’m juggling a lot of interests and I’m not the best at it.
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I think the only show I watched that was on a non-first season was HeroAca and I’m not even done with it yet (and they immediately announced a 4th season, damn). Still, I’m 12 episodes in and it’s pretty good. Haven’t hit the absurd emotional highs of the first two seasons yet, but there’s time.
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I watched the 12 available episodes of Angels of Death, and it looks like they’re gonna do an OVA for the last four episodes. I got in on this late due to low energy but I was intrigued because it’s an adaptation of those RPGMaker horror indie titles that Youtubers get famous off of. That’s almost deliberately aiming for my attention. This show is kinda dumb. Not because it’s edgy, I actually kind of enjoy that somewhat immature aspect, but because every time it decides to delve into western religion (which is a big theme, and all the characters are implied to be either American or English) it gets a bit confusing. I’m not sure if it’s subs being written with limited information (which it shouldn’t be, the game is out in multiple languages), or if the author just has a misinformed idea of how people talk about their faith. Rachel, a fourteen-year-old, talks constantly about her relationship with God, but specifically only in the context of what form of suicide is Breaking The Rules. It’s...interesting, but oddly so, and the episodes that revolve around a villainous priest and a witch trial are so vague and nebulously defined that I had no clue what any of the characters were talking about at any time. It’s also very clear they are staying true to the structure of the game, because there are many segments that feel like they lose their tension (or maybe their logic) when taken out of an interactive context. Anyway, I want to watch those last four episodes so I can form a full perspective, but I suspect that any upcoming twist won’t save what’s been established.
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Cells at Work is really fun and I enjoyed the full 13 episodes, though I still find its overwhelming popularity surprising. There are shades of narrative, and plenty of implied worldbuilding (which is often my favorite kind), but this is mostly a series of notebook scribbles of someone’s OCs based entirely on making a comedic metaphor. It makes sure to stay this way, and all drama ultimately can’t last in the face of the the theme of “biology is funny.” On Reddit somewhere, a medical student was going through the show and pointing out all the surprisingly subtle details, like the Red Blood Cell with no sense of direction having a cowlick that represents sickle cells which have more trouble getting through the blood stream. Very clever stuff.
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Asobi Asobase and Chio’s School Road are both hilarious and great comedic timing, but I still haven’t finished the latter. The former is about shitty schoolgirls who want an excuse to goof off, and the latter is about...mostly the same concept, but the main girl is a hardcore PC gamer who tries to solve IRL problems with her l33t skills. You have to take both with a grain of salt at times, especially if you’re LGBT. Asobase has some sketchy commentary on trans people, School Road’s lesbian is a pervert, and the shows overall swing with reckless abandon into lewd territory (imo said lewdness is often hilarious but ymmv). I think the main difference for me is that while I find both really entertaining, I’m actually growing fond of the characters in School Road? Meanwhile Asobase is an “Always Sunny” style comedy in that the characters are terrible and you should not imitate them (and also like Sunny you are occasionally made to wonder how self-aware the writers are).
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Hanebado is about the most traumatic sport in the world: badminton. Or so you’d think, considering that this show turned the drama faucet on full-blast and then cracked the dial off at the start of the season. It’s extremely good sports drama, and really nicely animated, but there’s a subplot of Extremely Bad Parenting that did not reach an appropriate resolution, or at least wasn’t communicated properly to the viewer, and I saw a lot of people reasonably pissed off about it. 
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Planet With was probably the show of the season for me, and was even the reason I got a Crunchy premium account. A (kigurumi) mecha show with shades of Gurren Lagann that hits every shonen trope you can expect (well, except for a tournament arc) and subverts it with nuanced maturity, which is what I came to expect from Satoshi Mizukami’s writing. After reading Spirit Circle, I’m convinced everything he writes is gold. Not enough people watched this show, and it’s a shame, because the nuanced take on the difference between justice and compassion is pretty relevant today. I’m currently rewatching this with my sister and hoping I’ll pick up more than I did the first time through. I expect to watch it a third time in the future.
Show of the Season: Planet With Runner up: Probably Hanebado
Shows I also watched that weren’t from this season: - Ushio & Tora (wasn’t really worth the dedication, unfortunately) - KADO: The Right Answer (Fantastic until the last couple episodes collapsed in on themselves) - Digimon Tri movies 1 & 2 (this is gonna be rough)
Shows I dropped: - Angolmois (it’s not a bad show but I didn’t have the energy)
Shows I missed but still wanna watch: - Overlord S3 (haven’t started this show) - Banana Fish (wanna read this first (also no Prime ;_;)) - FLCL S3? (haven’t watched any of the new stuff yet) - High Score Girl (COME ON NETFLIX) - Revue Starlight (it’s on HIDIVE) - Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits
Shows I missed and don’t know what to think about: - Grand Blue - Happy Sugar Life - Island - Harukana Receive
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foundcarcosa · 7 years
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cxci.
Would you like to have twins? >> I don’t imagine raising more than one child, but it’s possible that twins might work too.
How old is your most recent ex? >> Relationships have gotten so nebulous and definition-shifty in my perception lately that I don’t fully comprehend who my ‘most recent ex’ even is anymore.
How does your hair look right now? >> It looks like hair.
What color were the last shoes you wore? >> Black.
Are you currently listening to any music? >> No.
You’re trapped in a room with your last ex for one day, what do you do? >> ---
Who was the last person you got into an argument with? >> I don’t remember.
Do you think you can last in a relationship for 3 months? >> Sure.
What are you listening to right now? >> Nothing.
Are you expecting a child? >> No.
Are you waiting for anything in particular? >> No.
Last person to really piss you off? >> I don’t remember.
What time did you go to sleep last night? >> I’m not sure. Around 4.30a, I guess.
Do you think you’ll be a good mother/father? >> Yes.
Marriage in your future? >> Yes.
If your best friend liked your last ex, what would you do? >> ---
Want to have kids before you’re 30? >> That’s impossible at this point.
Have you kissed more than 10 people this year? >> No.
Do you like meeting new people? >> Sure, when I have the energy.
What are you doing right now? >> This survey.
How many piercings do you have? >> Three.
Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? >> If so, I haven’t been informed of it.
Would you go out with someone right now if they asked? >> That would depend on who the “someone” is.
Do you think somebody’s in love with you? >> I don’t know if anyone’s “in love” with me, especially seeing as I’m not fully sure how that concept works in the first place.
Who do you spend the most time with? >> Sparrow, by virtue of our living situation.
Can you recall the last time you liked someone a lot? >> ---
Last person you rode in a car with? >> Sparrow.
Do you mind sleeping on the floor? >> In general, no.
Do you enjoy summer? >> I think I might be coming around to its point of view. I still don’t enjoy its extremes, but the same could be said for winter.
Do you have a phone? >> Yes.
Is there anything you wanted to do today that you didn’t? >> No. Today isn’t over yet, anyway.
Is it hard leaving people behind? >> Leaving people behind where? Physically, as in moving? No. Socially? No, it happens.
Will you kiss someone within the next week or two? >> The likelihood is reasonable.
What kind of outfit are you wearing right now? >> Iron Man PJ pants and a Behemoth t-shirt.
In the next 48 hours, will you hang out with a guy? >> Most likely not.
Did you do something mean to someone today? >> No.
What is your favorite night to go out? >> I don’t have one.
Has someone ever made a promise to you and broke it? >> Sure.
Have you ever tripped over something in public? >> Yes.
Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in ten years? >> I don’t think Can Calah’s going anywhere, but ten years is also a long time in which a lot of changes in headspace dynamics can happen.
Do you wish someone would turn up at your front door right now? >> No.
Are you addicted to cigarettes? >> No.
Is any part of you happy at all? >> Sure. There’s always some part of me that’s some form of happy.
How was your day today? >> Unremarkable with a few amusing bits.
Do you have more friends that are girls or boys? >> ---
Have you ever been caught skipping class? >> No. I’ve never skipped class.
Do you hate anyone? >> No.
How often do you listen to music? >> Often.
Who were the last people to hang out at your house? >> No one hangs out here except the people that live here.
What did you do yesterday? >> The only notable thing I did was get boba tea.
Are you going on vacation soon? >> No. Our yearly vacation is done for.
Do you ever watch the Disney Channel? >> No.
What’s on your mind right now? >> Many things, but nothing of specific import.
Who do you call more than anyone else? >> ---
Do you bite your nails? >> No.
Do you have a job? >> No.
Have you done anything bad in the last week? >> I don’t know, seeing as I don’t judge my actions in that sense.
Do you like someone right now? >> I like people.
Are you jealous of anyone right now? >> No.
Does anyone like you? >> Sure, people like me.
Have you ever mooned anyone? >> No.
Where is somewhere you travel every summer? >> I don’t travel anywhere specific every summer.
When was the last date you went on? >> I don’t really notice specific events as “dates”.
Do you own an iPod? >> Yes, but it’s defunct.
What person on your Facebook do you talk to the most? >> I don’t know.
Do you want to fall in love? >> Not necessarily, but if it happened it’d be interesting.
Do you wear flip-flops when it’s cold? >> I rarely wear them in general.
Do any of your friends have children? >> I know a few people with children.
Do you ever take medication to help you fall asleep? >> No.
When was the last time you had Starbucks? >> I don’t remember.
Can you whistle? >> No.
Favorite TV show? >> American Gods is the newest favourite.
What is your favorite salad dressing? >> Balsamic vinaigrette.
Are you on a desktop or laptop? >> Laptop.
Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos? >> I always want new body mods.
Would you ever date anyone covered in tattoos? >> Sure.
When was the last time you slept on the floor? >> I don’t remember.
Do you eat breakfast daily? >> No.
Do you feel more comfortable with a male or female doctor/nurse? >> I don’t have a gender preference.
You’ve locked yourself outside and no one will be home for a few hours, you? >> Text whoever’s liable to be home first, walk around or sit somewhere until they come back.
In the past 48 hours have you hung out with a guy? >> Yes.
Have you ever walked on the beach at night? >> Yes.
What were you doing at 2AM this morning? >> Chatting on Discord and scrolling tumblr.
How many kids do you want? >> One.
Are you interested in more than one person at the moment? >> Generally.
Last night, did you talk to anyone until you fell asleep? >> No.
Who are your last 3 missed calls from? >> I don’t know who they’re from. Whoever had this number before me never bothered to update a bunch of people, apparently.
What’s the best thing about summer? >> The same thing that is best about all seasons -- it eventually changes into another one.
Should you be doing something else instead of this? >> No.
Do you ever wonder what your life looks in someone else’s eyes? >> Sure.
Who was the last person of the opposite sex to text you? >> ---
Do you think you would make a good boyfriend/girlfriend? >> To someone, of course.
Whose bedroom were you in last? >> Mine.
Why do you feel the way you feel? >> Because nothing has prompted me to feel differently.
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