#spiderlingman

The compound is quiet. 

There were times when this was the norm, but Thor finds the current absence of energy both understandable and disconcerting. There’s cause for celebration (revels, a word laced with a seldom felt nostalgia), but instead there’s a sense of disquiet handing in the air like a shroud. 

The Mad Titan is dead. The thought is both bolstering and somehow hollow. It wasn’t enough - no death of his would ever be enough, Thor thinks, even after he’d gotten to watch the life bleed from his eyes. Not when - 

But this isn’t about him. This is about the boy two rooms over, and how the compound is too quiet. 

He enters the antechamber on bare feet, soles chilled on the tiled ground. He has two cups of cocoa in hand, mugs just slightly too warm as he sees a familiar tousled head of hair over the back of a plush blue chair. 

There’s a large footstool at it’s side, one that Peter seems to have decided to forego, so Thor sits and brings his legs up, crossing them before offering the mug. 

“I put two packets in each,” he says by way of greeting, a tired but genuine slime curling his lips. 

learn all the divination methods, liv. overachieving is the key to success

@spiderlingmanSend “DONT” to pin my muse against the wall to prevent them fromLEAVING

“Peter.”

He forgets how strong the young man is, sometimes. It’s a little disconcerting to be pinned by someone a good half-foot shorter than he is, not to mention a couple decades younger.

“Peter, nothing bad is going to happen if I walk out that door.”

@spiderlingmanTell Duke weird shit, John Mulaney edition

“I don’t uh--I don’t think they hate you.”

Duke drinks a lot of caffeine and sleeps very little, but at least he’s been lucky enough to avoid that particular side effect of sleep deprivation. Not that he really has that many people who’s opinion of him he might be concerned about, these days, but it’s always best to think on the positives.

There’s a few hours left on this project, but it’d certainly go faster if he didn’t have to be so careful about keeping an eye on the young man. He furrows his brow in thought for a moment, before turning slightly to indicate the rear of the lab.

“There’s a ah, cot in the back, if you wanted to try laying down?”

When at last he believes the compound is empty, Loki meanders from his private but still heavily-surveillanced quarters of the compound and made his way to the kitchen.

Finally, he could have some time to himself.

Or, at least that’s what he thought.

“I should’ve left while I had the chance.”

He’s sitting on the edge of the building, facing away from the street, heels kicking idle against the bricks. It had been stupid to stay, but he couldn’t shake off that urge to see Peter, even if only from a distance. 

And it was worth it. 

Even now, even waiting to get (rightfully) yelled at, or have something thrown at him, or told to get lost. 

The liberty horses snort and stomp behind the tents, anxious for their evening feed. If there’s one thing good that came out of moving to the docks, it was more space for the animals. As it stood, the horses were much more rambunctious before a show, and much more mellow after; they were working animals through and through. 

Phillip had offered to feed them for the evening, something their trainer was happy to oblige him as he darted off for his own dinner. Being someone who apparently thrived being completely out of his element, it was always a bit of fun to find new things to do at the circus. The animals definitely fit that bill. 

One of the smaller stallions, Domino by name, sniffed at his shoulder as he walked by, promptly licking the gold stitching before Phillip could turn and give his muzzle a pet. “I know, buddy, let’s get you fed,” he said with a laugh, marveling at the personality in them.