I have been having some thoughts about the original mythological
Loki and the thought that has been on my mind most is this:
1. Surprisingly great with kids
2. Is addicted to parenthood
Let me explain.
As to the first bit, well, yeah, it’s surprising. Or it should
be at first glance. Because, seriously, this is fucking Loki. Standing
in close proximity to him for longer than a minute is bound to result in theft,
arson, a splash of bloodshed for color, and at least one confused party waking
up in bed with the fucker. He’s a chaotic, manic, and generally hazardous force
to be reckoned with.
To us. That is, adults.
Mortals, gods, giants, trolls, dwarves, et cetera–but only
those who are mature.* *Read: there is Something to be Gained from conning,
seducing, or otherwise messing with us. Whether it’s to save his own skin, or
to get some sweet petty vengeance, or to steal a bauble, or to satisfy some
carnal itch, or to just fuck up somebody’s day for the Hel of it, Loki only
ever targets those he can take something worthwhile from.
And what is there to take from kids?
Plenty of folks on his extremely extensive Enemies List have
children, of course. No one in the Norse mythos was especially mindful of
dropping their seed. So. Children.
Children–easy to fool, easy to make a hostage, easy to charm
and siphon their parents’ secrets and treasures from–should be great big
bullseyes to the God of Mischief and Trickery and Assorted Other Unscrupulous
Things. Yet there isn’t a single Edda or snippet of lore in which Loki makes cruel
use of them. Not once.
But what’s the big deal? Most of the rude and/or villainous
characters in Norse mythology don’t bother with harassing kids either. Except
in the case of stories like Loka
Loka Táttur is a tale about how a farmer loses a bet with a
vicious troll who swears to kill the farmer’s little boy. The farmer calls upon
three gods in turn. Odin, Hoenir, and Loki. Odin and Hoenir both disguise the
boy and hide him away, but the troll is too clever and each time manages to
sniff out the boy’s hiding place. Ultimately it is Loki who hides the kid–pulling
an Idunn-in-a-Nutshell gag and hiding him as a speck on the eye of a flounder
in the water–and then, rather than stepping back as Odin and Hoenir did from
their work, he sits in his boat and lets the troll see him.
The troll, being suspicious, asks what Loki’s business is. Only
fishing, obviously. The troll demands to join him. Lo and behold, they bring up
a wealth of flounders, including the one where the boy’s hidden. Loki manages
to change the boy back to his true shape and hide the kid behind his back
without the troll noticing. As Loki brings the boat back to shore, and to the
farmer’s boathouse with the latter’s doors open, Loki tells the boy to run
through the boathouse. He goes, the troll gives chase, and the troll becomes
wedged in the entryway.
At which point Loki proceeds to chop off the troll’s legs and
stick an iron stake in the bastard’s skull. Then he walks the kid back home. The
grand payoff for Loki after all this?
The boy is safe. The troll is dead. The End.
Now, much as Loki may have been the catalyst for a lot of
corpses pre-Ragnarok–see his business with Thor getting his hammer back and
leading more than one giant into a death trap–Loki is actually very rarely, if
ever, one to get his hands dirty by killing a victim himself. Even Baldr was
done in by an arrow he aimed with blind Hod’s fingers. So why did Loki
personally orchestrate this plan in such a grisly way? For what gain?
What, other than the satisfaction of personally slaughtering the
would-be child-killing prick troll?
In a less bloody narrative, we see his hand in getting Thialfi
and Roskva, a pair of mortal siblings, taken into Thor’s service. While the
exact ages of the two aren’t mentioned, they are young enough to still be in
the care of their parents. When Thor and Loki are travelling it’s their father
who invites them under their roof. Thor’s goats are slaughtered for the evening
meal and–in some tellings–it is Loki who entices the son, Thialfi, into
breaking a leg bone to taste the marrow. When morning comes and Thor resurrects
his goats, one has a broken leg.
Thor’s visibly pissed—never ever
a good thing–and so the family offers to make some compensation.
Loki, coughing through his hand: ThialfibroketheboneheshouldpledgeservicetoThor
Loki, clearing his throat:Alsotakethesistertwoforonedeal
Rosvka: But I didn’t do anything—
Loki, en sotto voce: Kids, consider your options. Teensy
mortal lifetime of toil on Midgard, harvesting dirt and snow on one hand.
Potentially immortal lifetime, I don’t know, scrubbing giant blood off Mjolnir in
Thor’s hall on Asgard on the other. Verdict?
Loki: Excellent! Really, Thor, you’re a master dealmaker,
a born barterer, I’m in awe.
Loki: AND WE’RE BACK TREKKING LETS GO
Cue laugh track.
Point being, Loki has been shown to purposefully go
out of his way to help kids because…because. Yet how does this translate to the
idea of him being good with kids?
I ask this purely hypothetically and am trying not to
laugh as I do, because really. Really.
How in the hell is a kid not going to be entertained by the Norse god of
revelry and recreation?
Oh yeah, that bit’s often left off the résumé.
Loki, God of
Mischief, is also God of Recreation. Play, in other words. Because playtime is
a thing that is Chaotic rather than a product of Order, and so Loki is
naturally all over it. There are some who even credit him with having added
that trait to the first humans, Ask and Embla, while Odin, Vili, and Vé were
carving them and breathing character into their souls.
On top of that, he’s also the god of flyting—poetic shit-talking.
So we have a shapeshifting, storytelling,
magic-wielding, game-spinning, trickster god who can also teach young ears
every bad word they could ever hope to learn, and he’s expected not to be a hit with kids? This is all
without even mentioning the fact that Loki is a bit of a hyperactive attention
hog all on his own. What better audience for him than a gaggle of credulous
little onlookers who are too young to sneer at his antics rather than take
delight in them? Children are wee balls of mischief themselves, muddled in with
imagination and wonder and an eagerness to be wowed or made to laugh themselves
All of which brings me to point number two:
Loki is a kidaholic.
Like, even though a lot of his and/or her sleeping
around the Realms can be chalked up
to an insane libido, there’s also just the sheer number of kids they’ve
produced to factor in. Maybe more than even Odin or Thor could boast. At least
half being born from Loki herself. Not because Loki was helpless against the
workings of nature—it’s impossible to believe that Loki wasn’t smart enough or powerful enough to get around producing
new Lokisons and Lokisdottirs with every other bedmate—but because Loki wants more kids. There will never be
The guy’s got a case of severe paternal/maternal
hoarding going on. I mean
Loki: I need another one.
Odin: You really don’t.
Loki: You’re right. I need two other ones.
Odin: I am positive that you do not.
Loki: Three. Triplets. Need them. Right now.
Loki: Four? Four. Definitely four.
Odin: Loki, please.
Loki: Yeah, let’s go with four. I can give or get. I’ll
flip a coin.
Odin: Loki, as Allfather, I am expressly forbidding
you to impregnate or be impregnated for at least a century.
Loki: …I’ll settle for three.
Odin: What did I just
Loki: Three’s a good number, isn’t it? All good
things come in threes. You and your brothers—
Odin, fighting an aneurysm: You and your brothers—
Loki: So you agree!
Odin: I did not—
Loki: Three it is!
Loki: Be back when I feel like it
Loki: Give my love to Sleipnir
Loki, pantsless, vaulting over the wall, cartwheeling
towards Jötunheimr’s Ironwood forest: Bye
It’s in that Ironwood that he meets Angrboda and
fathers a giant wolf, a giant snake, and the literal corpse-faced queen-goddess
of the dead by her. Being that Loki’s scope of attractiveness/aesthetic acceptability
is elastic enough to let all sorts of species between his legs, I find it hard
to believe that his kids’ unique looks would repulse or even faze him. They’re
his children. Therefore they’re great.
And we all know how that happy family
ended up. Ditto his second family with Sigyn and his two little twin boys.
Enter Ragnarok, warfare, general Bad
Times, and so on.
Comical as it is to envision a Loki who cringes at
the notion of parenthood and/or fears his more monstrous children, I just don’t
believe it lines up with what we know of the Loki of myth.
Myth Loki is a god who would spend hours entertaining
a child, simply entertained that the child is entertained.
Myth Loki is also
a god who would hunt down and methodically dismember whichever idiot
thought it would be okay to make a child cry within said god’s earshot.
The ocean breeze sent Shirayuki’s dress dancing around her knees as she wound her way down the worn path to the beach. The roar of the waves was distant, but the light tickle of sea spray still dusted her cheeks. The herbalist would have smiled were she not so focused, double checking the contents in her bag as the rocky pathway gave way to sand.
It was near midsummer, and Zen had invited her to accompany him, Mistuhide, and Kiki to the coast and attend the soon to be held festival there. And of course there was no way she could say no! The ocean was always so vibrant and beautiful, and the culture of the townsfolk charmed her to no end; from the myths and tales of the sea, to the jewelry and chimes made from glistening shells, to the clear air sharp with salt. Side by side with her dearest friends, she loved every moment of it.
Up until she tasted the ocean’s salt in a much more personal way.
Hello there! I saw some raven boys posts from you and they were beautiful and made me want to read the series... would you mind explain why you like it? Like, I don't know, some things about it seem a bit cliche, so is it good cliche? Do they make it work? Or is it the kind of book you read and it's not that good but it's a guilty pleasure? I'm so sorry I don't know how to ask this, but what are the pros and cons of reading it? If you're okay with telling me, of course. Thanks a lot! ^^
All right, first off: this is not a guilty pleasure book. This is a ‘shout it from the rooftops, shake strangers on the street, hide copies under your friends’ mattresses until they’re forced to investigate why they’re sleeping on a foot-high lump’ book. This is a ‘me staring at you from a dark corner in your bedroom, eyes lighting up every time you turn a page, only for my shoulders to sag when I realize it is not the last page and I can’t blurt out all my feels to you’ book. This is that book. This isn’t a ‘if I want to keep my dignity, no one will ever know I read this book’ book. Because those books? Those books usually involve gay dinosaurs who improperly try to “fix” the office copy machine, if you catch my drift.
I’ve said too much.
Now I can empathize with you about this seeming cliché because I read the blurby thing on the back and I thought, superiorly, about this book series that would one day own my soul and all the baubles I’ve ever treasured (just ‘cause it’s greedy like that and my soul was already marked way down):
HAH! That sounds terrible, who would read this? Let me guess: Girl falls in love with boy, impediment!, love triangle, everyone’s better than the best version of themselves to the point where they’re clearly pod-people aliens, insert plot I don’t care about, insert female protagonist I will never relate to, insert shirtless boy and we’ll get a summer blockbuster that’s a lot of action, a lot of skin, and zero percent substance. Oh and also, apparently, ghosts.
This is what I thought. I have taken floggings regularly to try to atone for ever having these thoughts. Maggie (Stiefvater) - the author (we are on a first name/nickname basis, obviously) - recently updated said blurby on her tumblr, @maggie-stiefvater, which I think does the whole thing a lot more justice:
A host of co-dependent teens with a battery of psychological issues comb rural Virginia for a dead Welsh king with dubious magical powers. Trees talk; hitmen put down roots; dead people live; living people die. Cars are described in loving detail. Fuckweasel. A house full of psychics tells everybody the future and drinks a lot on-page considering it’s a young adult series. Nobody kisses anybody, which is weird because everybody loves everybody. There’s rich boys! Poor boys! Sad boys! Angry boys! Raven boys! Collect them all! (x)
If that already didn’t assuage all your doubts, don’t worry, I’ll talk some more!
There are a ton of people out there who will rhapsodize to you about Adam and Ronan, the loud and subtle and lush and bleak and other glorious contradictions that their growing relationship is. About Gansey and Blue and the inevitable tragedy of their gut-swooping, heart-stomping romance. About Noah and his murdered/remembered smudginess. Because those stories are just that good - they come together to be even better - so finding people who want to yell through your mail slot about all those things while you try to block them out, is not hard. It’s all found family, lifelong friendships and spelunking in caves. What about that doesn’t sound like something you want to have in your life, right?
For me, what made me go: OH! This is my kind of book, was - first and foremost, the writing. I didn’t care about the dead Welsh king plot because he’s dead and Welsh and I’ve already got a crown in my room that I almost never wear. Talk about a lot of stuff I don’t need, right? But the introduction of each of the titular Raven Boys characters was done uniquely, gorgeously and in a way that immediately made me want to know them. Well, as Maggie says of Ronan, in a way that made me want them to approve of me. Which is a strange feeling to have about fictional people, but knowing that didn’t make me any less zealous about proving myself.
I was more on guard with Blue, because - totally unfairly - I am a harsher judge when it comes to female characters. But, being a female character, I feel I have a little more knowledge in this area and therefore can be a little more snooty about it. (Which enables me to dig that crown out and put it to some use finally.) Then Blue opened her mouth and we get her first(ish, we’re not talking about the actual first exchange because I don’t want to talk about that, or think about it, OH MY GOD, WHY ARE YOU EVEN BRINGING THIS UP, I FEEL SO ATTACKED RIGHT NOW.) exchange with Gansey:
Blue: “Do you see how I’m wearing this apron? It means I’m working. For a living.”
Gansey: “I’ll take care of it.”
Blue: “Take care of it?”
Gansey: “Yeah. How much do you make in an hour? I’ll take care of it. And I’ll talk to your manager.”
Blue: “I am not a prostitute.”
Which is roughly the time I put down the book, pulled out a white t-shirt, painted the words: ‘Blue Sargent #1 5eva’ on it and wore it for a week straight. Like you do.
A hitman who stole my heart, with a daisy chain and a pink switchblade
Everything out of Piper Greenmantle’s mouth
Everything out of Jesse Dittley’s mouth
Every fantastic individual who lives at 300 Fox Way
The color aquamarine
Some stuff with time
Some stuff with trees
Some stuff with dreams
Hand lotion that means a lot more than just hand lotion
Oh right, so final count, in the pros column I wrote: 1,067,310 and in the cons column I wrote: … Oh no, I guess I just ripped that off, chewed it up and spit it out in a misshapen saliva-soaked wad next to the pros column.
I think that makes the scoring pretty clear. If you still decide you don’t want to read it, that’s cool too - though one side of your mattress may get uncomfortably high.
Obiyuki Week day 6: Little Mermaid Haaaah, this is getting longer that it’s supposed to. Part 4 will be the last.
After what had happened down at the rocks, the herbalist had spent the rest of the day in a daze. The truth of what she’d seen, of what he was, was nearly overwhelming. Whenever she had felt settled, another image of the merman’s golden eyes and sharpened teeth would scurry through her mind like a mouse. Spending the evening with everyone, more than one worried question was sent her way, and forcing smiles as white lies slid between her teeth was more draining than nights spent grinding and mixing herbs back in Wistal.
She had left for bed early that night, leaving a slightly forlorn Zen behind to complete a jigsaw puzzle by himself. With a single lamp to illuminate her room, Shirayuki paced in small circles, mouth in hand as she stared at nothing. Eyeing her bed with an expression akin to a convict faced with certain doom, she debated with herself over whether or not she should bother with sleep tonight.
It was only the thought of facing a concerned Kiki in close quarters that sent her to bed.
the apartment with your father for Christmas had always been one of your
favourite parts about the festive time of year. You’d always wake up early on
the first Saturday of December and wrap up warm to pick out a tree, bringing it
home to bedazzle with lights and baubles in the lounge. All day you’d spend
decorating the whole apartment, turning it into the perfect winter wonderland.
And then when everything was finished, you’d sit back with your dad with a
freshly-baked batch of cookies to watch your favourite Christmas film.
“Y/N!” Jim exclaimed as he entered the flat you both shared. “I thought we would be decorating the tree together!”
“I haven’t started yet,” You replied. “Don’t worry.” You had both decided to get a real tree this year. For many years, you had a fake tree but it was beginning to fall apart so you decided to try a real one for a change. It was the 20th of December and you were desperate to decorate the tree however you had promised Jim you’d do it with him. But because it was so close to the big day, you had to do it alone.
“Why didn’t you wait?” He asked. There was a hint of hurt in his voice.
“You’re always busy and it is too close to Christmas,” You replied. “Anyways, I haven’t started.”
“Okay then! How can I help?”
“You can start by untangling those lights.”
The tree began to turn less bare as the warm coloured lights wrapped around it. Then it was time for adding the baubles and other decorations to the pine tree.
“So how was your day?” Your boyfriend asked.
“It was okay,” You replied. “Baking Christmas goodies, wrapping up presents, etc. What about you?”
“Busy day. I may have just killed a man.” He smiled but you sighed. He forgot you hated him being a criminal mastermind. “C'mon lighten up! It’s Christmas!” You ignored him and continued to decorate the tree.
“So we are having a theme this year?” He asked and broke the silence.
“Yes,” You replied. “Silver, gold, and red.”
“Okay then.” He had just picked up some so he wrapped it round his neck like a scarf.
“Ah!” You said. “Finally the star!” You lifted the shiny gold star out of the container. The tree was almost complete however it needed the star to be finished. You tried to put the star on by yourself however you failed miserably which meant that your lover laughed at you.
“It’s not funny!” You snapped at him pouting.
“Awe,” He said smiling. “You look cute when you’re angry.” He kissed you on your pouty lips. “Would you like some help?
"Yes,” You muttered. He put you onto his shoulders. “Don’t drop me.”
“I won’t, love.” You placed the star upon the tree.
Obiyuki Week Day 6: Little Mermaid The one-shot turned into a two-parter and now we’re going for threeeeeeee sorry! :D
Shirayuki stared down at the stranger with wide eyes, her mind a buzz of questions. Who was he? What kind of person would have the strength, and the nerve, to be able to swim here? She doubted even Mitsuhide could manage it, being so far from the shore and at the mercy of the waves. And just how long had he been there? Obviously he was the one who’d pulled on the lure to wake her, but–
She opened and closed her mouth several times, attempting to speak as his expression became more and more amused. His eyes were glittering, shades of gold and green swirling together in a way she’d never seen before. His pupils seemed almost slit like a cat, catching the light as his smile widened. Staring into his eyes, her frazzled mind finally clunked into place.
- Tim would 100% be one of those guys who thinks decorating on the 1st of December is too early.
- that’s why he’s not sure how to react when he gets back from the manor one day and you’re hanging baubles on a 6ft Christmas tree
- You couldn’t hear him over the blasting Christmas tunes coming from your speaker
- He would have to literally come over and physically tap you before you realised he was home
- You would sing your hello to him
-“so (y/n) whatcha doing?”
- “it’s December 1st? I’m decorating.”
- He would complain about it being too early for the next 20 minutes
- eventually he would come around to the idea, but he wouldn’t admit it to you so he had to find a way to work it into the conversation
-“(y/n) don’t you think that bauble would look better there? wait.. no… oh just let me do it”
- and then he would be in full on decorating mode
- You would go to the bathroom for two minutes and come back to see Tim hanging up hand made paper snowflakes that you didn’t own before your venture to the bathroom
- once all the decorations are up the both of you would sit on the sofa and just admire the lights on the tree
- Tim would kiss your temple and tell you how much he loves you and you reply telling him that you love him too
- basically it’s the best December 1st Tim had ever had
I hope this is okay! This is day 1 of 24 days of batfamily (I also posted another set of Jason headcanons below) and I’m so excited for you to read the rest of the headcanons and imagines! Feedback would be greatly appreciated :)) Lots of love xxx
With the holiday season come and going, going, gone, this felt like the perfect time to talk about one of my favorite literary archetypes: the Messiah.
A messiah is someone who changes the world. They may be delivering on a prophecy, working towards making a better world, or righting old wrongs. But, after everything else, they must be a fulcrum for change.
Not a catalyst. A messiah is not someone who arrives and causes the world to change incidentally. They are the driving force, they are the storm (to borrow a metaphor from Frank Herbert). Their actions change the world.
A messiah does not need to be a religious figure. A secular messiah may blur the edges of religion, but you can write a story about a non-mystical messianic character.
Any individual who causes great upheaval or change has the potential to be a messianic figure. Yes, that can include your villains, if you want.
The messiah is not an easy archetype to write. Actually, that’s not quite true: the messiah is a fairly straightforward archetype if you’re prepared to write one. If you didn’t expect a messiah in your own work, then you can easily find yourself out of your depth. As always, the best advice is, “plan ahead, and be careful.”
That said, messiahs excel at popping up in strange and poignant places. They are incredibly easy to create by accident but, simultaneously they can be very difficult to work with when you’re intentionally trying.
This is because, in part, messiahs overlap with our basic concept of who, and what, a hero is. The difference is how far a messiah will go. A hero may be content with small victories, but a messiah cannot be.
N: “‘Twas the month of Christmas, when all through the dorm not a creature was stirring, but N was freaking out”. N would try his best at keeping control over everyone and everything, but it’s Christmas so everyone was buzzing. He would spend most days running round after the others, screaming at them over messes/generally not doing stuff (I’m looking at you Leo). Overall Christmas would be tough for this guy, he usually loses his voice by Boxing day. But he would find enjoyment in seeing the others having fun.
Leo: Like for N, Christmas is tough for poor Leo, he just doesn’t really want to deal with the hassle of others. He just wants to chill and enjoy his own company. No chance. By mid-month N will have put him on food duty, meaning no one can go within a metre radius of the kitchen without feeling the wrath of Leo (he likes his space). He would end up enjoying making the food and enjoy it even more (inwardly) when the others compliment him on his cooking.
Ken: This guy freaking. loves. Christmas. 1st of December he’ll be wearing the tacky jumpers and Santa hat screaming Christmas songs wherever he goes. Being the arty one he would be put on decoration duty, with the close watch of Hongbin (to make sure he doesn’t make a mess or hurt himself) he would decorate the tree with looaadds of tinsel and baubles, humming to himself as he did. Christmas day is his favourite; he loves seeing the others faces when they open their presents from him.
Ravi: If he’s not sleeping, N will make him go buy the presents for everyone else, he would be unsure at first of what to get them but N gives him a few ideas…He would end up getting N his own weight in lip balm, Leo a jumper with cats on, Ken a huge Chopper plushy, Hongbin a new add on for his beloved camera, Hyuk any Naruto merchandise he could find and he would get himself a new cap, with a swaggy Santa on it (to stay festive).
Hogbin: Oh gawd, Bean will be in a state of anxiety for the duration of December. ‘What if we get snowed in?’ ‘What if the tree falls on Ken?’ ‘Will Leo ever emerge from the kitchen?!’ are just a few thoughts wizzing through his head on a daily basis. So N would put him in charge of safety, which involved keeping an eye on Ken (and Hyuk), making sure Leo hadn’t burnt the dorm down and other things like that. To keep him somewhat relaxed he would take photos of everything. Literally everything.
Hyuk: This guy loved Christmas just as much as Ken, but he would keep slightly more reserved about it (like wait a few more days until donning the itchy Christmas jumper), but this doesn’t mean he can’t have fun! Being the kid he is he would make odd snowmen outside that somewhat resembled the others, he would decorate himself in tinsel and test out Leo’s patience with the whole ‘1 metre radius thing’. For Hyuk Christmas would be the time for fun and games.
So there’s a bit of a follow up to this drabble (can you call it that once it’s over 1000 words?) based on another prompt I got and that should hopefully be in the next day or so! Under the cut cause of length
When Deeks came home from his late afternoon surf, his girlfriend of almost a year is sitting on his couch, leant forward, elbows on her knees as she stared at a large cardboard box.
“Hey.” She replied, prying her eyes away to look up at him with a weary smile.
“What’s that.” Deeks asked, pointing to the large brown object taking up residence on his coffee table.
“It’s a box.” Kensi shrugged, leaning back into the couch cushions.
“Is it, uh, the box?” Deeks rubbed his hand across the back of his neck nervously.
hang your last bauble on the tree and step back to examine your work. You had
managed to drag the tree up to your apartment, get it into the stand and
decorate it all by yourself…and it was crooked. You sighed and fell back onto
your couch, taking a swig of wine out of the bottle. You didn’t have company,
who needs a glass? That just means more washing up anyway.
squinting at the tree for a while, you decide you don’t give a shit it’s wonky.
You grab a bag from beside your couch and empty the contents onto the floor
under the tree. A few wrapped parcels and cards from various family members and
friends fall out, along with the odd gift you got yourself and wrapped because
your life is just that amazing.
take another swig from your wine bottle just as somebody knocks on the door.
You jump and a little wine dribbles down your chin and drips onto your white
You mutter to yourself, jumping up and hurrying to the door, swinging it open.
Ur…” Thor is standing in the hallway, looking confused. You then realise you
are holding a bottle of wine, with red dribbled down your chin and splashed
across your already ratty tshirt.
isn’t as bad as it looks.” You say, standing aside to let him walk in.
tree looks nice.” He says politely, standing just inside the door.
looks like shit.” You laugh, shutting the door and walking to the kitchen to
grab some glasses. You pour two glasses of wine and walk back to Thor, handing
him one. “So what are you doing here? It’s Christmas don’t you have better
places to be?”
I heard you were alone.” He explains, dropping his bag onto the floor and
taking a seat on the couch.
yeah. The family have gone away without me, all the friends have families and
all that shit. My cat is around here somewhere I’m not totally alone.” You take
a big swig of wine and Thor smirks slightly. “Actually you know what I think
that fucker ran away too.”
I thought I would come and keep you company.”
Seriously?” You almost choke on your wine, staring at Thor. “Don’t you have
family and friends to be with back on Asgard?”
will have a thousand celebrations with them. For this one I wish to be with
you.” He says softly, smiling.
I appreciate it.” You and Thor meet eyes and hold the gaze for quite some time,
before Thor coughs and looks away, fiddling with his bag.
brought urmm…more wine.” He pulls a bottle out of his bag, glancing at the
stains on your shirt.
go wrong with more wine.”
also didn’t know what food you had so I brought dessert?” You grin and jump up
to grab plates, having the best Christmas of your life, sitting on your couch,
drinking wine and eating a family sized cheesecake with Thor.