Loki-Hiddleston

I don't know, whatever. . .. ... .... I walked up to the customs office. Wednesday had come much faster than it should have, and I found myself waking up that morning to Wanda jumping on my bed with my makeup in her hands and one of my nicest shirts over her shoulder. She'd forced me to put the makeup on and my best clothes, too early in the morning. She told me that if I got there early, I wouldn't need to wait in the sun for so long. She was wrong. The line was, at least, a kilometer long. Mothers and daughters lined the street, talking and judging. I took up a place behind an obviously rich mother and daughter who were complaining. "W

An impromptu party at Stark Tower. Because there’s no way that could possibly go wrong. Not until the speaker gets knocked over and Loki nearly breaks your neck, that is. You’re wearing your second-best outfit. This has been a deliberate ploy on your part: your best outfit is amazing but makes you feel like you’re going to a funeral or your estranged cousin’s wedding (which is, in fact, what you bought it for). You want to feel relaxed, comfortable, and thereby look much cooler.   At any rate, you needn’t have bothered, because your second-best at a Stark party is hardly going to be noticed. Everyone there&rsqu