60% Staring onto a blank screen
20% Drinking tea/coffee
10% Freaking out because WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I WRITE?
10% Procrastinating on the internet
5% Looking for music to write with
5% Actually writing.
That equals 110%
duh, we’re authors, not mathmagicians.
I think you mean mathematician…
NO. MATHMAGICIANS. THEY FUCKING DO MAGIC. THAT IS WHAT MATH IS. DARK MAGIC THAT SATAN MADE UP.
To be honest, Loki had never viewed Thor with anything more than brotherly affection. The kissing war had only been in attempts to rattle the thunder God.
And it seemed he had won.
Lips curled into a smirk at the wrinkle of confusion, watching the oaf think was amusing, though it was quickly and utterly wiped away as Thor continued on to make his confession.
Before he could even think to respond, Thor had invaded his mouth in a much more intimate way, making him inhale sharply and tense up before…before he just gave in. He craved the attention and the affection being served to him on a silver platter. Pressing himself closer, if that was even possible, he reciprocated the kiss. For once he was not sure what he was feeling or thinking, and it intrigued him; he had to figure out this electricity that ran through his spine.
Rattled indeed. The god of thunder hardly knew the reasons for his own actions, but try as he might to reason with himself, there was no turning back, now. He had already begun the kissing, and although it need not escalate, there was no way for him to rescind what had been done.
So he may as well press onward.
His grip on the other tightened just so as their lips mingled, the taste of Loki dancing across his tongue. He didn’t know what he had expected, but there was the faintest thought of surprise running through his brain at the fact that the other had reciprocated. But it was quickly quieted by a want to rule the kiss, as if for this moment at least Thor could forget the fact that Loki would never come home. They would never laugh as they had, nor stand at one another’s side, but at least for now…at least for now they were together.
More together than they ever had been, in fact. And that was puzzling. He had admired Loki before—that frame. Those eyes. The slight curve of his nose. But had he ever imagined that they were capable of this kind of…closeness? His grasp on the liesmith tightened even more, to the point that he feared the other may bruise, and he broke the kiss off to pull back, searching the other’s eyes (if only that would help! But of course Loki’s tongue wasn’t the only thing capable of being deceiving.)
There were no words, as he wasn’t sure what to say. But there was a gaze, and the urge to meet lips again.
This kiss actually brought some of Loki’s old want to be around Thor back. That old want to simply be at his elder brother’s side, even if it was as his shadow. But that was a closed chapter in an old tattered book. Never again would he be anything less than Thor’s greater or equal half.
His spider-thin fingers dug into the other man’s flesh, chilling it almost as a warning not to squeeze any harder.
His eyes, though still guarded and reflective as always, had a bit of a softer look to them. Perhaps it was how they were half-lidded and the Liesmith seemed a little shaken. He had not meant for it to go this far, and now that it had…
"Well, well, well…" He purred, closing the distance again to nuzzle at Thor in a seductive, ‘you want these lips?’ kind of a way. Though he had a want, a need even, he refused to act upon it. "What will your puny group of heroes think?" He even ventured to give the larger man’s throat a bit of a nip. "What will your darling Jane think?"
Green eyes met blue and that awful self-assured smirk returned before—
He was simply gone.
Loki, he’s a full-tilt diva.
And so are you, Tony, so are you.
it’s been far too long since I’ve last drawn a smurf
“LET ME KNOW IF REAL POWER WANTS A MAGAZINE OR SOMETHING”
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