Neither is building a snowman, if you ask me.
No, but you can stand there and admire what nature has built.
I am the snowman, bitch.
- mention that x-men: days of future past was really good
- attempt drafts
- attempt drafts on peggy
i was sort of out all day and went for a long walk before i got home just now, so i’m a little tired ( and i’ve gotta get up hella early tomorrow, ew ). but anyway. i’m here and if i’m not replying to stuff, i’m lurking — so feel free to send me / liege messages about w/e ! c:
He goes silent, because if he talks then he knows it’s just going to get worse and worse and his emotions are going to spill all over the place. Nobody wants that to happen. So, instead, he just presses close to Liege and closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.
“A lot of things are on my mind. There’s one thing
in particular, but it hu — hurts to talk about it.”
Liege holds him close, turning his head to nuzzle Tony’s hair with his nose. He knows his husband well, and knows that he probably doesn’t want to talk; Liege always has to encourage it out of him, and that’s exactly what he does.
“I know, baby. I know. I won’t pry, but I’m
right here. You know you can tell me
anything, especially things that hurt. I’ll
do my best to make it better.”
How bland and tasteless this day was. Like that sort of bad taste that is left in one’s mouth after vomiting or after a rough night of drinking when they wake up with a pounding headache. That was today. That was how he felt when he woke up, when he rolled out of his bed and struggled to begin the day, when he breathed a sigh of relief after the little paperwork he needed to finish was finally pushed aside. Even as he wandered the streets, half-running errands for needed supplies, half-wandering to wander because that’s what he was best at, he still felt that tug of uneasiness, as if, perhaps, the world was tilted just too far the wrong way and it was upsetting the balance entirely.
Perhaps he was just tired. Perhaps there were too many things wrong with him and they were starting to get a little tangled up inside of himself. Onward Loki walked, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants, eyes shifting from his boots to the shops and restaurants around him, as if searching for something to appease whatever unease he was feeling. Still, even as he studied the roughened buildings and bruised sky, there was something faraway about his gaze that would be unsettling to most. Were it not for the voice of another piping up not terribly far in front of him, determined and sure, he likely would have walked right on by without noticing their presence at all. Actually, he might have still done that had the words not settled within his mind, unscrambling into something that actually made sense.
Never in all ten years he had lived on this realm had he been offered to pay for sex and this sudden call was enough to surprise him into absolute silence. Stopping dead in his tracks, Loki’s eyes stared at the flame haired being with an expression mostly unreadable due to how many emotions were flickering across it, melding together into something that didn’t quite have a name (at least, not in English). Had he been offered sex for a price? Had he just been asked for money in turn for such a simple act? While this topic was not foreign to him, it still appalled a part of him that this was a common thing on Midgard.
The God of sex did not pay for nights of pleasure.
Admittedly, the stranger’s silence worried him. On these streets, you never knew exactly who or what you’d run into; it crossed his mind that perhaps he should have been more careful with his catcalling. Then again, did he really have much of a choice? He only hoped that the man he’d shouted to is not dangerous.
Tentatively, he took a step forward, and then another; his expression was very much unreadable. Had he offended the other? Upset him? Or was the man simply mulling it over, deciding what price he’d have Loki for?
He cleared his throat and began to walk closer, attempting to exude confidence as best as he could. He stepped into the light closer to the stranger, and it carved out Loki’s features from the darkness; that long, flame-red hair appeared even redder, and it framed a gaunt face which boasted an alabaster complexion and bright blue eyes. It was obvious that he was thinner than he ought to be — something most of his clients enjoyed. Perhaps this one would, too.
"What do you think, hm?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Sound good? I promise I’m negotiable. And I’ll do whatever you like."
"I would rather not talk about it, to be honest,” he mumbles lowly, his lips hardly moving at all as he speaks. Tony watches him take a few pieces of candy, and after a moment or two he just picks up the bowl and places it onto Liege’s lap.
“Just —— just wanna be alone with my thoughts.”
And that worries the monarch. He hears something in Tony’s voice that he doesn’t like, and so, setting the candy bowl aside, he slides an arm around Tony’s waist.
“What’s on your mind, hm?” he asks softly, his
tone infinitely more soft and sweet and caring