ooc - princeling’s off to bed! super sleepy, wah. good night.
// ugh rightttt? doesn’t help that i’m just gonna constantly be thinking loki when i see him with that goddamn hair. just. disheveled loki. and RIGHT RICHARD MADDEN B/C ////WOLF//// but i’m obviously stupidly biased in favor of aidan but like, idk.
( disheveled loki is almost as good as civilian loki. i have a huge thing for loki in suits and ties and idek. …I’VE DONE SOME THINKING THOUGH AND I THINK I’D PREFER RICHARD MADDEN. i adore aidan, but richard madden is just absolutely perfect. )
"Do you honestly think it’s smart to challenge me Loki?" He said in a teasing tone, slowly walking over to the bed before he slipped into it, in nothing but a pair of sleeping trousers. He pulled himself close to the others body, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against the males cheek before he pulled him close. "Although staying in this bed all day with you sounds luxurious. I’d surely take you up for the offer if you’re serious."
With a breathy chuckle, Loki opens his slender arms, catching Thor into his embrace. ”We’ve got the rest of the weekend and if I am incapable of walking, then we can spend the next day laying in bed,” he replies, "Or go for round three thousand." His lips curl into a devilish smile while his slim hands slip underneath the other’s sleeping trousers, daring to squeeze his well-muscled ass. ”We’ll see who outlasts who.” And with that, he suddenly rolls over, flipping Thor beneath him.
// it was, yep. worse b/c he was shit at explaining stuff. and yessss good. i’m kinda wondering if i should use aidan or richard madden… and omfggggg do it. doitdoitdoit. and pft, there’s no shame in that. i can’t fucking waitttt for that movie.
( ARGH, RICHARD MADDEN WOULD BE REALLY NICE TOO. BOTH OF THEM ARE SO NICE TO LOOK AT. and i’m so pumped for only lovers left alive; i really can’t wait! …i’m just waiting for all the bloodrush fics/gif sets/etc. )
It’s a beautiful library. She decides to make it her spot—her own private spot.
The books are plentiful and Sigyn has four scattered around her, all flipped to random pages. She’s a bit too scatterbrained today to buckle down and read just one; she’s far too excited, can’t even be bothered to wipe the pretty smile off her youthful face.
She hears rustling and her shoulders stiffen immediately. Her father had told her to go inside, had said it was open to anyone interested. But she’s nervous. The last thing she wants is to see the Allfather and have him give her a stern, disappointed look.
But it’s just the prince. Not the loud, boisterous one, but the quiet, pale one. Sigyn’s shoulders relax; he’s hardly as intimidating as his father. Hardly intimidating at all. "Sigyn," she says, staring up at him before awkwardly patting down her dress. The last thing she wants to do is give him a glimpse of her undergarments. "Who are you?" She knows, of course, who Loki is. She doesn’t live under a rock.
Shutting the book in her hands, she lest it plop down atop another. Immediately though she regrets the action and quickly collects the book again, brushing the cover with her sleeve. Scowling, Sigyn glances back up at the other.
With barely disguised scorn, Loki turns his high nose up into the air and crosses his skinny arms; he looks like the epitome of a pretentious little prince. Sigyn, huh? He’s never even heard of her before and yet she doesn’t know who he is? Ridiculous. Everyone knows who he is. ”I am Loki Odinson of Asgard, next in line for the throne,” he states proudly. ”And what’s Sigyn supposed to be?” Clearly, he’s not very nice to the pretty girl - wait, did he just think she was pretty? Damn. She is pretty though; there’s no denying that.
"…Also, that’s my spot. So you should leave."
// that sounds like the most beautiful thing in the world omg insta-A+. and yep, pretty much. i just sorta stared at him like really. he even started his ppt with: “Lecturer: (his name)” it was ridic.
( dear god, that sounds ridiculously pretentious and i go to art school. also, my loki would be ecstatic to play with your aidan fenrir! i’m thinking of making a tom hiddleston character blog for like …every character he’s ever played …including adam from only lovers left alive …………….. and i haven’t even seen the movie yet )
// you replied before i could editttttt :| and YES GOOD AWESOME. and ehhh, it was alright. the guy that went right before me was total shit. like, sooo bad. he decided to try to give us a fail lecture on the laws of thermodynamics and we were all just like WHAT ARE YOU DOING SIT THE FUCK DOWN. but yeah, didn’t you have an art history test? …or has that not happened yet.
( oops, my bad. it’s always nice to have a really awful presenter before you since they make you look really awesome! LOL THOUGH. i can just see your class now. ’SIT YO ASS DOWN.’ anyway, uh, yeah, but my art history exam was online sooooooo … i looked up all the answers online. )
// haaaaa glad you liked them :|
( whimpers i need more of them in my life aaaaaand I’M WORKING ON OUR YOUTH VERSE REPLY RIGHT NOW and i hope your presentation went well c: )
A hole? Rude. Scylla feels around the jacket for a brief moment, attempting to catch her finger on it, but it never happens. Maybe she’ll find it later. No, probably not. Five seconds in and she finds herself not caring.
He whistles and it’s a pleasant sound, ringing in her ears, causing the left corner of her lips to turn upwards unconsciously. Damn. It sounds almost strange coming out of Loki’s mouth—but that in and of itself is a strange thought to have, she realizes. She thinks that as if she knows him, as if they’re chummy. How presumptuous of her to assume that, after a whole five minutes of interacting, she and a Norse god are friendly. (Far more idiotically, she’s curious as to what he sounds like when he curses—or if he curses at all. Does he drawl out, 'fuck'or does he spit it out?)
She chooses her next words carefully. "Why would I want a fake?" she asks, but she does want to take him up on his offer, if only for the sentimental value of possessing a duplicate of the piece of art she’d so tirelessly worked on. Though, a picture would also suffice.
Scylla surprises herself. His eyes are fixed on her and it should make her feel uncomfortable, but instead, she stares at the painting. Okay, so maybe she does want it. A second later, she manages to rip her gaze away and look up at the other. Ah, there are her nerves. "Scylla," she finally says, not bothering to offer up her last name. "What happens when a Norse god is curious?"
"I’m curious." She doesn’t know what possesses her to smirk. Maybe a severe lack of self-preservation—or maybe that ever present and confusing familiarity.
Out of the corner of his eye, he catches her feeling around the jacket for a small moment and his lips quirk into a smirk he can’t hide even if he tried. He may be a difficult creature to read, but this Sigyn is a puzzle in her own right. And he wants to crack her open, wants to devour her thoughts and together, mold her own, but he might ruin her just like he did last time. He doesn’t know what he wants. Devotion is useful, but such envious spirit is to be admired.
"Well, Scylla,” he tests the name on his tongue; the origin of her name is interesting. Named after a beast in the sea. "Your parents have a bizarre taste in names. Any siblings, Sig - Scylla?" The name slip is purposeful, but he pretends like it was on accident. A casual slip of his tongue. "Nevermind. Do you really want to know when a Norse god is curious?”
Like the drama queen he is, he drags the suspense and it’s almost comical until the moment he grasps the other’s slender hand into his. Even he’s not sure if he brushes his thumb against the soft skin, but he does and it’s an utterly unconscious motion. Slowly, while his eyes are trained on her, he presses his lips against the back of her hand.
"What do you dream of, Scylla? Do you dream often?"