Stretches.

They missed him. All of them simoultaneously smooch his cheek.

And there is Loki, climbing on top of him. ❛Youve worked too much, darling.❜

Stretches.

Plops ontop of ɪᴛ's ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ.

Oh, not volstagg.

Well. . . Nothing much, asides from placing poisonous snakes all over Central Park. He missed his doctor!

Of course not. That would’ve been boring. Real snakes, all along. Can he get a kiss? Hm?

If you’re looking for him, he’s joking around with ɪᴛ's ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ’s cloak, pretending to be that ... uh . . . Man of Super.

Places a smooch to his temple, curling up against him. Perhaps a certain trickster is nostalgic.

And there he is, ever so teasingly nibbling on the doctor’s ear. He had gotten used to Stephen’s warm touch, too.

Pops cherries into his mouth. He’ll make the sanctum explode.

Ah, what a lovely day to be stabbed to death.

Ah. What a beautiful night to kill people.

Pokes ɪᴛ's ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ.

Oof— Someone’s excited to see him, hm?

Exploding buildings here and there. But— he got donuts. For his husband.

plops on top of.

loki’s presence, a daily celebration.

give him ten more and he’ll take a break from causing havoc in order to receive kisses.