Summary: Loki doesn’t understand the purpose of stuffed animals and it gets so fluffy you’re gonna die
Word Count: idk I’m writing this on my phone like all serious professional writers do
Author’s Note: This idea came to me earlier today when I was packing up to (finally) move out of my parents’ place, and I figured that since I’m on a long car trip and trapped in the back seat of a Ford Escape for a significant portion of the foreseeable future, I would write this so I don’t die of boredom. I might still die of leg cramps tho. Also, it’s not a Loki gif but I felt like this one of my dad fit. Pls enjoy.
~ Muerta 🌸💀🌸
“What exactly,” Loki hissed, lifting the fuzzy bundle up by one of its beanbag legs as if it were covered in slime, “is this little creature?”
You turned to face him, putting down the box you were holding and letting out a soft giggle when you saw him gripping the chubby stuffed moose with two of his fingers, sneering down at it in a mixture of disgust and confusion. Somehow, you’d convinced him to help you move in to your new apartment with the reasoning that it would be much easier and faster if you had his magic to help. You hadn’t expected it to work, but when he’d agreed a little too readily, you wondered if Thor was right in believing that his little brother had a bit of a crush on you.
The box Loki had just opened was full of throw pillows and blankets, with a few of your old plush toys crammed into what little space remained on the very top. You raised an eyebrow at him, amused.
“You’ve never seen a stuffed animal before?” you asked, crossing the room to where he stood.
“Are you saying this beast was once alive?” Loki’s frown grew, visibly disturbed by what he assumed as an example of the barbaric Midgardian tradition of taxidermy. You laughed out loud then, reaching out and taking the moose from him.
“No, you big idiot,” you said, “it’s a toy. Made of fabric and stuffing and little beads for his eyes. A real moose would be, like, the size of this room. You never had one of these as a kid on Asgard?”
Loki shook his head. “Asgardian children don’t play with such things. We had puzzles and weapons, not… misshapen sacks of cloth meant to look like monsters.”
“They give weapons to children on Asgard?” you asked, incredulous, completely ignoring his comment. “That’s… that actually explains a lot now that I think of it.”
Loki smirked, slipping the moose from your grasp, where you held it pressed lightly to your chest. He turned it about in his hands, inspecting it carefully, before tossing it into the air a few feet and catching it again.
“What do these ‘stuffed animals’ do, exactly?” he asked. “What is their purpose?”
You went back to unpacking the box you’d been working on, not entirely sure what the answer to his question was but doing your best to pull one out of your ass.
“Well… I guess if you were going to look at it from a psychological standpoint, they’re used to develop care skills and compassion in children. As an adult, though… it’s kind of like having a little pet. One that won’t die and will cuddle with you whenever you want it to.”
Loki huffed, tossing the moose to the side and pulling another stuffed animal from the box it had come from, this one in the shape of a bear.
“That seems utterly pointless,” he said. “Don’t most adult humans have other humans to meet their needs for physical connection?”
You shrugged. “Not all of us.” You looked back to him with a cheeky grin, tossing a book at his head which he caught without even flinching.
“Are you offering to help me meet mine?” you teased.
He gave the book in his hand a quick skim through before peering up at you, a sly, playful grin spread across his features.
Toad's Cave 