He turns his head to the side to watch the man sit before lacing his arms under his head and staring at the ceiling. He breathes out, the rise and fall of his chest deep. "I could teach her weapons."
Impossible, and yet... not. Thor looks at Stark again, dipping his elbow in order to see him clearly. His smile has faded.
Oh, Thor, and Tony'd actually been warming up to the idea. The human frowns a little to match the way that the light had bled from Thor's happy eyes.
"I'm not a doctor, Sweet and Sour, but last time I looked, human men don't get pregnant." Again, his hand gently presses to his stomach. He looks thoughtful. "I've no idea what the hell I'm--" Wait. "We're going to do."
((OOC: Mild mannered superheroes or something like it. I need to flesh it out.))
For a moment, Thor was silent. Considering. He hadn't thought. Loki was a strange bird and certainly none to take cues from in the matters of life, considering his brother had birthed a horse. And certainly, Stark was only human no matter how much the man hated to be reminded of the fact. Thor's frown grows.
"If it is not safe..." Thor lets the rest of the words hang. The idea of this thing is brilliant and wonderful, but it is still only an idea. Coming up onto his elbow, a large hand reaches out and settles over Tony's.
And then drops.
"Then it is not safe. I will not put you in harm's way."
"Well hey now," Stark complains. "My body, my choice." Maybe that saying isn't exactly being used properly but if he's got something growing inside of him than he needed to know all of the options. To see, to feel Thor so very happy is something he wants to hold on to. "Plus, I'm a genius. If it's possible, I can make it possible."
Yes, just like that, Tony committed himself to something he'd been terrified of for the past few days. He touched Thor's cheek and his chin, nails catching briefly in his beard.
"I just think we're going to need more than a few prenatal vitamins."
Thor rumbles a laugh at the words and the rare, soft touch between them. "For both our sakes, then, hopefully she will not inherent either one of our egos." He grins. "Those yours is certainly larger than mine."
((ooc: Oh man. Is this for HWD of just fun times?))
It's difficult for Tony not to feel a fondness for Thor at the moment, and despite their general distance when not in bed, or more accurately, when not waking up on the rare occasions he stays the night and feels like spooning him, touching is important right now. At least until Stark comes to his senses and stops playing Little Women.
"Something of mine was bound to be larger than yours," he mutters, though the bitterness in his voice is shammed.
After a week of what feels like a montage of morning sickness, Tony climbs into his suit and shoots his way from Malibu to Times Square where the Avengers go when trying to piss Fury off the most.
He's had it up to here dealing with this on his own. And that is why, when he bursts in on Barton using Thor as target practice and the archer asks what's crawled up inside of him, Tony says venomously: "Thor and his Asgardian offspring!"
Barton responds with laughter until no one else laughs and then musses up his own hair. "Shit."
((OOC: HWD. Though Thor losing his powers is always a
( ... )
There is an arrow in Thor's hand and another that is close enough to his ear to have snipped a lock of his hair to his shoulder. He blinks at Stark and his proclamation.
Thor thought that women built a temper as the pregnancy went on, but perhaps it is different with men. Or humans. Tony's tone is acidic enough to make him want to flinch. Instead he hands the arrow back to Clint. "Stark."
Clint isn't dumbfounded enough to stay quiet. "I mean, technically, he did already if you're knocked up with Thor-spawn--" All it takes is Tony to turn on him for Clint to back out of the way, hands up. "Sorry, carry on."
Oh, Tony is planning on it. He is an emotional wreck. Things that never bothered him do terribly now... Such as Thor playing around here while he'd been at home suffering. "I am not a woman! I am not built for this! I spent two hours this morning crying because I got engine grease on my jeans and you're here letting Barton plink arrows at you!"
And closes it. Telling Stark that regardless of what he says that he is certainly acting like a woman is likely not the wisest course of action just now. "I was helping him train."
Thor frowns as he steps forward, hands out as if he were trying to calm a particularly vicious beast. "Let us go back to the Tower. I will wash your jeans."
Is Clint eating? Is he seriously over there sitting in the corner snacking on something? Where did he get it? Why is he not offering it to him? And Jesus, this has to end. Tony pressed his hand to his forehead and moves closer to Thor.
It's a very good thing that the god hadn't said he was particularly womanly at the moment. Stark might insist on a duel at sunset with pistols. Or lasers. Probably lasers.
He plunks his head down in the center of Thor's chest.
Thor glances over his shoulder at Clint-- who is only chewing on his fingernails-- and the man raises a shoulder as if to say, it's fine, I can find someone else to shoot at. You got crazy to deal with.
A hand is placed on Stark's back; after a moment it circles awkwardly. "And I will make you something to eat."
"So everyone knows by now." Tony sits on his large white sofa, back to the kitchen, while Thor tries to cook. He's so embarrassed that he doesn't even realize that Thor. Is in. His kitchen. The place has been Banner proofed by Thor proofed is just something he's never thought he's needed to invest in!
He slides lower into the cushions and scowls at the television that he's had Jarvis mute and unmute in a cycle every two minutes since he's been home.
"Which is just great. Fury's going to be pissed. And-- Actually that is pretty great."
Jane had taught Thor a thing or two about cooking, which is probably why nothing has burned down while Thor has been out of Tony's eyesight. In fact, it smells edible.
Of course it's eggs, but beggers cannot be choosers.
Thor comes out in an apron that says Engineers Do It Until It Hertz and with a plate in hand. It is eggs, yes, and hash browns. The potatoes are a little brunt around the edges, but look salvageable, probably due to the smiley drawn across the top in ketchup. There are also orange slices.
God bless Thor Odinson. Tony shifts over on the sofa so that the larger man can join him but does not curl up against his side like he really, really wants to do. Tony still has some pride. Not much with swollen ankles and morning sickness. He's been too afraid to drink too, which has him on edge more than the rest. He's a bear. One that's been left to do this on his own like some unwed young mother you see about in documentaries.
Jarvis is only so helpful.
Tony eats everything on the plate, minus the orange rinds, and tugs up his knees to his chest. He needs an X-ray. Or a scan. He needs to find out where the baby is, if it even is a baby, and what he's suppose to do when it outgrows his intestines (because where else could it really be)?
"I'm going to tell you something and it goes no further than this room," he murmurs. "I'm freaking out."
Sitting down in the space made for him, Thor watches Tony eat in silence. It is not just the man's behavior, but the song stretched taut between them. It is different now. Strained. Thor does not want to know the reasons why.
Even after Stark speaks his peace, Thor is silent. The customary frown that graces his face when he is deep in thought stretches his face.
"You are a scientist, are you not? And you have Banner at your disposal as well." Thor spreads his hands. "You have not been trying to do anything about this other than let your emotions toss you about. Are there not medics on your payroll? You are a man with resources. Use them, Stark."
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He turns his head to the side to watch the man sit before lacing his arms under his head and staring at the ceiling. He breathes out, the rise and fall of his chest deep. "I could teach her weapons."
Impossible, and yet... not. Thor looks at Stark again, dipping his elbow in order to see him clearly. His smile has faded.
"You said, unless you can reverse it."
((ooc: please let it be Thor-makeover time!))
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"I'm not a doctor, Sweet and Sour, but last time I looked, human men don't get pregnant." Again, his hand gently presses to his stomach. He looks thoughtful. "I've no idea what the hell I'm--" Wait. "We're going to do."
((OOC: Mild mannered superheroes or something like it. I need to flesh it out.))
Reply
"If it is not safe..." Thor lets the rest of the words hang. The idea of this thing is brilliant and wonderful, but it is still only an idea. Coming up onto his elbow, a large hand reaches out and settles over Tony's.
And then drops.
"Then it is not safe. I will not put you in harm's way."
((ooc: LOL. I like it already.))
Reply
Yes, just like that, Tony committed himself to something he'd been terrified of for the past few days. He touched Thor's cheek and his chin, nails catching briefly in his beard.
"I just think we're going to need more than a few prenatal vitamins."
((OOC: Maybe like personality reversal?))
Reply
((ooc: Oh man. Is this for HWD of just fun times?))
Reply
"Something of mine was bound to be larger than yours," he mutters, though the bitterness in his voice is shammed.
After a week of what feels like a montage of morning sickness, Tony climbs into his suit and shoots his way from Malibu to Times Square where the Avengers go when trying to piss Fury off the most.
He's had it up to here dealing with this on his own. And that is why, when he bursts in on Barton using Thor as target practice and the archer asks what's crawled up inside of him, Tony says venomously: "Thor and his Asgardian offspring!"
Barton responds with laughter until no one else laughs and then musses up his own hair. "Shit."
((OOC: HWD. Though Thor losing his powers is always a ( ... )
Reply
Thor thought that women built a temper as the pregnancy went on, but perhaps it is different with men. Or humans. Tony's tone is acidic enough to make him want to flinch. Instead he hands the arrow back to Clint. "Stark."
((ooc: Just because you're eeevviilll.))
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Clint isn't dumbfounded enough to stay quiet. "I mean, technically, he did already if you're knocked up with Thor-spawn--" All it takes is Tony to turn on him for Clint to back out of the way, hands up. "Sorry, carry on."
Oh, Tony is planning on it. He is an emotional wreck. Things that never bothered him do terribly now... Such as Thor playing around here while he'd been at home suffering. "I am not a woman! I am not built for this! I spent two hours this morning crying because I got engine grease on my jeans and you're here letting Barton plink arrows at you!"
((OOC: You love me for my evil.))
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And closes it. Telling Stark that regardless of what he says that he is certainly acting like a woman is likely not the wisest course of action just now. "I was helping him train."
Thor frowns as he steps forward, hands out as if he were trying to calm a particularly vicious beast. "Let us go back to the Tower. I will wash your jeans."
((ooc: THE TRUTH.))
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It's a very good thing that the god hadn't said he was particularly womanly at the moment. Stark might insist on a duel at sunset with pistols. Or lasers. Probably lasers.
He plunks his head down in the center of Thor's chest.
"Yeah?"
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Thor glances over his shoulder at Clint-- who is only chewing on his fingernails-- and the man raises a shoulder as if to say, it's fine, I can find someone else to shoot at. You got crazy to deal with.
A hand is placed on Stark's back; after a moment it circles awkwardly. "And I will make you something to eat."
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He slides lower into the cushions and scowls at the television that he's had Jarvis mute and unmute in a cycle every two minutes since he's been home.
"Which is just great. Fury's going to be pissed. And-- Actually that is pretty great."
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Of course it's eggs, but beggers cannot be choosers.
Thor comes out in an apron that says Engineers Do It Until It Hertz and with a plate in hand. It is eggs, yes, and hash browns. The potatoes are a little brunt around the edges, but look salvageable, probably due to the smiley drawn across the top in ketchup. There are also orange slices.
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Jarvis is only so helpful.
Tony eats everything on the plate, minus the orange rinds, and tugs up his knees to his chest. He needs an X-ray. Or a scan. He needs to find out where the baby is, if it even is a baby, and what he's suppose to do when it outgrows his intestines (because where else could it really be)?
"I'm going to tell you something and it goes no further than this room," he murmurs. "I'm freaking out."
Reply
Even after Stark speaks his peace, Thor is silent. The customary frown that graces his face when he is deep in thought stretches his face.
"You are a scientist, are you not? And you have Banner at your disposal as well." Thor spreads his hands. "You have not been trying to do anything about this other than let your emotions toss you about. Are there not medics on your payroll? You are a man with resources. Use them, Stark."
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