Summary: Loki looks on as you slip into despair over a spilled mug of tea. But then he knows it’s not really about the tea, is it?
Warnings/Notes: Maybe this one is a little bit more autobiographical than my usual Lullabies? My husband broke one of my (many, many) mugs earlier this week and maybe I had to hide myself away and cry my face off because it was just the final straw. Things suck and it’s hard to see any real, actionable way that little people like us can do anything about it, but maybe Loki’s out there keeping an eye on us. Do what you can.
I’ve Got You
He hadn’t meant to do it.
In a way, surely, he wasn’t the one to do it at all. It was Thor. It was always Thor. If it wasn’t his loud excitement, it was his booming anger, or—perhaps most infuriating of all—his childish whininess. That whininess, and the pouting, were all that Loki could think of in the streets with his brother when Midgardian women swarmed them and begged to take pictures with the great and wonderous god. Would they fawn over him the way they did if they knew about the hundred-year strop Thor had thrown late in his adolescence? Surely not.
