Tag: chaos-in-the-making
I think it doesn’t matter what stage you’re at in your creative life or your career. People will always have an idea of who they think you are, and often it’s inaccurate – or not wholly accurate. And you mustn’t let them change your own sense of who you are. You have to plough your own furrow.
The Good Life || chaos-in-the-making
Loki sat up, combing back his errant hair and blinked around the room. “It was passing fair. Certainly was lonely, but I will not bemoan the game you brought. Is it in need of cleaning?”
Clint smiled and leaned to kiss Loki, loving how relaxed the god had become in the months since they’d vanished into the mountains. “I cleaned it already, so we have time to do whatever you’d like.” he replied, leaning in to kiss Loki again.
The Good Life || chaos-in-the-making
continued from here @chaos-in-the-making
The melody of the voice pulled Loki up from slumber. He stirred, turning to reach out, and his hands found the soft neck and caressed it. “Home,” he murmured, his mind slowly waking up. “Hmm. Clint.”
Clint smiled at the touch, leaning into it and humming. “Hello, Sleeping Beauty.” he said, leaning in to kiss him. He moved to mark the book and set it aside. “I’m sorry I took longer than expected. The buck I caught was fairly large.We’ll be set for few days on that meat alone.” he explained. “How was your nap?” he asked, running his fingers through dark hair.
Clint wandered back in after cleaning the kill from his hunt, the meat gathered and ready to stock as he walked in to clean up himself. He’d gotten quite used to the little hide away deep in the mountains where he and his mate could live without any nuisances. He put the meat up and then went to shower, once done, he slid into jeans and a flanel shirt before going to find his mate. “Loki?” he called curiously.
The afternoon had worked its magic on the trickster. He was asleep on the couch, an open book on his chest, breathing deeply in sleep. He didnt even twitch when Clint called for him. Afternoon naps were not often indulged in.
Clint found his way to where Loki was resting, moving to kneel by the couch and leaning to press a kiss to his mate’s head. He debated not waking him since he wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, Loki didn’t often nap since he’d fully recovered, and he petted his fingers through ebony hair. After a moment, he moved to nudge Loki gently. “Loki, my love. I’m home.” he said softly, tenderly.
themusechronicles 