Happy Holidays, guys! READ THE *BLEEP*ING AUTHOR'S NOTE BECAUSE IF YOU DON'T YOU WILL UNDERSTAND ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!

Okay, this story is going to take a lot of explaining. FIRST OF ALL this has very little to do with cookies. This Christmas, my sister, I'vebeenLOKI'Dyetagain, and I wrote gift fics for each other. (Her's is TOTALLY awesome, go read it. Seriously.) So, my plan with this is for it to be a collection of gift fics that I write for my sister for various holidays. And just because I write one for a holiday, it does not mean that it is holiday themed.

Also, This is called Cookie Stories because most of these chapters will be based off of these mini stories that I have told aloud but never written down. I started telling these crack stories once while we were making cookies, and it progressed from there. So, yeah, not many cookies. This will have Odin bashing, Thor and Loki brotherly fluff, and SO MANY inside jokes. It's okay if you don't understand something, because it's probably one of our inside jokes. (We have a lot of those XD)

Thirdly, I WILL NOT ACCEPT REQUESTS FOR THIS STORY! I know that in my other fic, That Happens Sometimes, I welcome requests, but this is different. So, NO REQUESTS! Also unlike THS, this story will have no definite update schedule, and I will only post on it when I have a gift fic to post.

And lastly, THIS IS COMPLETELY AU! NONE OF THIS WOULD ACTUALLY HAPPEN IN CANNON!The only purpose of this story is to make you and my sister laugh.

So, now that the insanely long author's note is out of the way, continue!

Disclaimer: I do not, in any form or way, own the Avengers. I use them, I have them burn stuff, I make them go to Asgard, but I do not own them. Neither do I own anything Marvel.

Loki was not a pyromaniac.

Seriously, he wasn't. Okay, yes, he found fire fascinating. But was he obsessed with it? No way. Certainly not. Well...

...try telling that to the curtains. They happened to be on fire. And it may have been Loki who set them aflame.

Said god gave a sheepish smile as he watched the fabric burn.

Scratch 'may have been', it was Loki.

The orange and yellow flames were nearing his ceiling and threatening to catch the rest of his room alight, and he finally realized that now would be a good time to douse his curtains.

"What was the spell for summoning water, again?" Loki mused aloud as he experimentally flicked his wrist.

At first nothing happened. Then a huge amount of water poured itself out of seemingly nowhere and waterfalled over the tattered curtains, flooded his room, and broke down his door all in roughly ten seconds.

"Whoops," Loki said mildly. He then remembered the large amount of books that he kept under his bed and, while they were water proof (because of magic), he was worried that they might float out from their keeping place and get swept away. He dove under the water, where his bed was nailed down, and pulled himself underneath the metal frame.

A few moments later he resurfaced in his room, having successfully secured his stash. Water was still being added to the already very copious lake within the castle, and Loki swam out into the flooded hall and let the river sweep him down a few flights of stairs until he reached the huge front double doors of the palace and pushed them open.

The water, which had collected quite a lot, tumbled out onto the front steps, bringing floating, wooden beds full of sleeping people: servants, guards, cooks, and nobles; but not Loki. He happened to be clinging to the giant front doors.

One of these oblivious sleepers he recognized, and so Loki let go of the door to hold onto the bed and pulled himself onto it. Then he reached over and stuck one of his wet fingers in Thor's ear.

"UWAAAH!" Thor screamed, bolting upright and rocking the makeshift boat. "LO~KI! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Hang on!" Loki laughed as the river of water swept them and the other through Asgard.

Odin was considered a heavy sleeper. It was said that once, he fell asleep at a dinner banquet, and when a brawl broke out between the guards that progressed to a fully fledged food fight, he slept right through it.

However, even the King of Asgard would wake up when he was dumped into a very large amount of water. And so, when the flood seeped under his door and rose above his bed (which happened to be very fancy and made out of metal, meaning that it did not float on the water as most of the other beds did) and soaked through his clothes, he woke up, spluttering, "What in the name of Bor's beard is this?!"

Wet and disgruntled, the Allfather waded to his door and yanked it open. He had a fraction of a second to panic before even more water poured in and pulled him out into the hall.

"LOOOOOOKIIIIIIII!" he screamed as he tried to tread water. "WHAT HAVE YOU DOOOONE?!"

The only reply he received was for the water to sweep him along as it raged through the corridors and halls and then out his front door. So he settled with just screaming loudly in terror and anger.

After whisking down the Bifrost road through the kingdom, the water finally thinned out, leaving confused servants and angry guards strewn all over Asgard. Groggy from being batted around, Odin stood on shaky knees that felt like liquid sunlight and suddenly saw his two sons on Thor's bed, shrieking with joy. "LOKIII!" he yelled again.

The two boys looked over their shoulders, and the already large blue and green eyes grew scared-chibi wide. "Oh no!" Thor wailed. "Loki, save us!"

"Tactical Retreat: Magic style!" Loki declared, snapping his fingers. Immediately, the bed shot away like a rocket down the Bifrost, taking the giggling princes with it.

"YOU'RE BOTH GROUNDED!" Odin screamed after them, but they were already out of hearing range, so he ordered, "GUARDS! AFTER THEM!"

A few of the wet warriors with their yellow capes were oriented enough to stumble clumsily to their feet and stagger like drunkards after the magic bed, only to fall on their faces.

Glancing down the rainbow bridge, Odin noticed that the boys were almost at Heimdall's observatory, and so he hissed, "Heimdall! You are not allowed to grant my sons passage to any other realms!"

On the far end of the Bifrost, Heimdall heard the order and sighed, knowing that it would do nothing to deter the pranksters.

Just then, the bed came to a halt in front of the huge golden dome and said pranksters hopped off. "Heimdall!" Loki chirped. "We want to go to Midgard!"

Heimdall just stared at them and stoically stated, "I have been forbidden from allowing you passage anywhere."

Loki hung his head with faux sadness. "I see..." he murmured, instantly piquing the gatekeeper's suspicion. "Then we'll just be on our way..."

The boys took a step back, but the soaked bed clothes had been dripping onto the bridge to form a small puddle, and they both slipped in it, causing them to topple to the side and fall over the edge.

To any other person watching, her or she would have freaked out, but this was Heimdall. And Heimdall had special eyes. And his special eyes saw Loki flipping him off as he fell. So he just pulled a piece of cardboard out of somewhere and wrote in large, bold letters:

RULES OF THE BIFROST:

1. NO FALLING OFF THE BIFROST.

He propped the sign outside his observatory and watched Thor and Loki's progress.

When Odin arrived huffing and puffing at the very end of the Bifrost, he vaguely noticed a sign that clearly stated that no one was allowed to fall off the bridge. Bemused, he dismissed it, and stalked over to Heimdall. "Where are they?" he growled, low in his throat like a donkey vomiting.

There was the regular, stoic pause that the gatekeeper always left before speaking. Then, "Midgard."

"MIDGARD?! HOW THE HEL DID THEY GET TO MIDGARD?!"

Scarcely a second later, the goddess of the underworld, Hela, stood there, scowling. "Stop using my realm as a swear word!" she demanded coldly before disappearing.

"...HOW THE SVARTLFHEIM DID THEY GET TO MIDGARD?!"

"They fell off the Bifrost, My Lord."

Odin sighed and rubbed his temples, hoping to advert the headache he could sense coming. "Well, send me down so I can drag them back!"

This time, Heimdall was the one who sighed. "As you wish."

Loki was not a thrill-seeker.

This fact was rather well known throughout Asgard. The first prince, Thor, was the one who did things like slide off the palace roof, and the younger brother was just always pulled unwillingly along for the ride. However, the palace staff knew differently.

Loki was a closet thrill-seeker.

After all, he was the one who would teleport the both of them up to the palace roof in the first place.

So if you asked an Æsir merchant, he would tell you that no, Loki did not enjoy falling from the Bifrost at all, not one bit.

On the other hand, if you asked one of the guards, he would say that of course that brat enjoyed it, the little devil!

And the guards would be right.

Loki relished in every moment of hurtling through space and watching the stars fly past him like fireflies in a dark night. He loved the feel of Yggdrasil's branches under one hand, and knowing that Thor was still there holding the other.

And then the huge realm of Midgard was suddenly right there and the ground was rushing up and Loki's magic billowed out behind them like a parachute and let their feet connect softly with the pavement.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then:

"THAT WAS SO FREAKING EPIC!"

If you asked the same merchant as earlier, he would say that Thor said that. If you asked the guard, he would say that it was Loki who said it. And this time, they both would have been right.

There was another moment of silence, before the two boys called out in tandem, "JINX!"

A third voice screamed something in gibberish, and Thor and Loki were aware of the confused people standing on the street around them. "Oh, Loki!" Thor said with excitement. "These people speak another language and we can't understand them! This is totally an adventure!"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Idiot. You do know that we can use the Alltongue to understand them, don't you?"

A childish pout graced Thor's features as he crossed his arms and pouted. "But it's more exciting if we don't use it!"

"Whatever," Loki grumbled. He turned to the person who had yelled at them before and reverted to the Alltongue to ask, "Where are we?"

"France," replied the man with bemusement. In English, Loki noted, which was good, because it was one of the languages that they had been forced to learn.

Nodding his thanks, Loki turned back to Thor. "We're in France."

"I know, Loki. I could hear," Thor muttered sullenly. "You're taking away the mysterious quality to the adventure."

Instead of answering, Loki grabbed his hand and tugged him towards a strange object leaning against the wall of a short building. "Oh, look, a bicycle! I read about them once in a book about Midgard! These people probably wouldn't mind if we borrowed it..."

"A bicycle? What are you talking about, Loki?" Thor asked. In reply, Loki pushed the wheeled thing towards him. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Sit there," Loki instructed quickly, "put your hands here, and you push those things around with your feet. Now go, 'cause I think these people actually do mind that we're borrowing it." He hopped onto the handle bars as Thor kicked off from the ground propelling the bicycle forward.

"LOKI!" Thor screamed above the yelling of angry and confused people going on around them. "I don't know how to do this!"

"Then you had better learn fast!" Loki countered and hoped that they didn't crash into that store in front of them.

Of course, it was only after Odin had arrived on Midgard that he realized that he had simply told Heimdall to put him down on Midgard, not where Thor and Loki were on Midgard. Which left him in some suburban town. His outfit got him several bemused stares as he stalked down the street in an effort to find his wayward sons.

After a few hours of fruitless searching, he finally stumbled upon a large building with yellow letters plastered on it that read: "Walmart." Since it looked like a Midgardian palace of some sort, he decided to go inside.

A little while later, in Asgard...

Heimdall's threat-to-Asgard senses were going off.

A quick glance down at France showed that Thor had somewhat successfully learned how to ride the commandeered bicycle, and Loki was still hitching a ride on the handle bars. As he watched, the two rode into an airport filled with many small, personal planes. They abandoned the bicycle for one of the flying machines and, after a short squabble over who would pilot it, started flying out over the sea. Heimdall had a bad feeling about that, but it wasn't what was getting his threat-to-Asgard senses riled up, so it wasn't them.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned his gaze to Odin and found him in a Walmart. His stomach dropped farther when he saw what his king was doing. Reluctantly, he pulled out his secret weapon, which was...

...a cell phone.

He dialed Odin's phone number.

Odin had ditched his heavy armor the moment he stepped into the men's section for clothing. How had he been king so long without realizing how amazing Midgardian outfits were? In his very esteemed opinion, the white button-up shirt, black slacks, and purple tie looked very good on him.

True, the shirt was a bit rumpled from him trying to figure out how to get it on, the slacks were a bit long, and he couldn't get his tie to look like the one on the training dummy, but still. He looked good.

So he had bought the outfit, along with many, many ties, because he liked the ties. Very much. For some reason, the lady at the desk had given him a strange look when he paid for it all with a golden coin, but he thought nothing of it, because he had just found the food.

"THIS MUSHROOM!" he roared as he bit into a treat. "I LIKE IT!"

He was about to yell for another when the strange device that Heimdall called a 'cell phone' rang in his pocket. He took it out and, after a few moments, figured out how to get it open. "Who dares interrupt my activities?" he asked angrily.

"It's a muffin, sir," Heimdall's slightly muffled monotone said on the other end.

"What?"

"The food that you call a mushroom, sir. It is actually called a muffin."

"What are you talking about?" Odin demanded. "It looks like a mushroom."

There was a sigh. "Sir, that does not mean—"

He was cut off when Odin hung up on him.

Tossing the empty mushroom ("Muffin, sir!") wrapper away, Odin picked up the other foodstuffs item on his plate and bit into it.

"Ma morphs meerd! Tish ish worfy of da godsh!" he exclaimed.

Translation: "By Bor's beard! This is worthy of the gods!"

His cell phone rang again, and he picked it up. "Hellumph?"

Translation: "Hello?"

"Sir. You shouldn't talk with your mouth full. You are the king of Asgard."

Odin hung up.

Three thousand six hundred eighty four miles from where they originally landed...

"I told you, you should have let me drive!" Loki yelled, pressing his hand over a bleeding gash at his hairline. "I wouldn't have made us crash!"

Thor huffed, nursing his own bruised arm. "Hey, at least I didn't crash us into the ocean! That should count for something."

"Well, it doesn't."

Loki probably would have said more, but at that moment, someone yelled, "Who are you?!"

The two princes turned around to find four boys and girl, all around the Midgardian equivalent of their own ages. Of course, it was hard to tell with one, because he was fully encased in red and gold armor and hovering off the ground, but they could guess.

All in all, they looked very intimidating for children. The one in the flying armor, who had evidentially spoken before, repeated, "Who are you?! Because if you're, like, enemies, then we're gonna have to arrest you..."

Thor pulled out the scared-chibi eyes again. "Nooo!" Thor wailed. "I don't wanna go in a dungeon!"

The boy dressed in black with a drawn bow seemed amused as he said, "Nobody has dungeons these days. Where are you from, the medieval era or something?"

"Guys," began the most timid looking of the group, "the Other Guy is getting kinda restless... oh!" Without warning, he doubled over and grew larger and green, his shirt shredding.

Now even Loki had the scared-chibi eyes, and Thor wailed again, "Loki, save us! This is scary!"

Not needing to be told twice, Loki grabbed Thor's hand and teleported them behind the group with a slight pop.

"Whoa!" said the boy dressed in blue with the oversized shield on his arm. "These guys might be dangerous! Avengers, assemble!"

The self-proclaimed Avengers rushed at Thor and Loki, only for them to disappear and reappear behind them. They kept attacking, and Loki would only shift their position.

And that's when Odin crashed the party.

Flashback, several hours ago...

After buying himself a survival stash of burritos and mushrooms ("Muffins, sir!") Odin finally remembered why he was on Midgard in the first place. And then he remembered that he had absolutely no idea where Thor and Loki were. Oh, what was a king to do?

He called his gatekeeper.

"Heimdall! Where are Thor and Loki?"

A sigh could be heard on the other end. "In Manhattan, sir."

"Where's that?"

"In New York."

"That's not what I—fine, how do I get there?"

And so Heimdall spent several hours giving simple directions like, "Walk up to that red sign, and then follow the yellow lines to the right," and, "No, it is not called a mushroom, it is a muffin, and take this next left."

And, eventually, Odin found his two sons being chased by some strangely dressed Midgardian children. Believing it some strange game, he called out, "THOR! LOKI! ENOUGH PLAYING! COME HERE SO WE CAN GO HOME!"

The Midgardians turned to stare at him, and Loki took the opportunity to spam the area with illusions of himself and Thor. The Avengers, baffled, started chasing the illusions, and the originals sped off.

Growling, Odin pulled out his cell phone yet again. "Heimdall! Which ones are real?"

"The pair who are running away to your left."

Speedily hanging up, Odin rushed after his sons, not paying much thought to the Midgardian children.

"Hurry!" Thor begged Loki, glancing over his shoulder to look at their pursuer. "He knows that we're the real ones!"

"I am hurrying," Loki snapped. "This way!" He pulled Thor over to an old-fashioned play ground and hopped onto the roundabout, squinting upwards as if looking for something.

"Loki?" Thor asked, looking worriedly at Odin's approach. He only received a quick warning of "Hold on!" before the roundabout they were on began to spin, courtesy of Loki's magic. It kept spinning faster and faster, until it was going too fast to be humanly possible, and both Thor and Loki were hanging on for dear life.

Odin, on the other hand, was watching in confusion, not knowing how to get close without getting hurt. His single eye widened more and more as the roundabout sped up, becoming a circling blur of color and blowing the wood chips away, with two more blurry blobs attached to it. And when the metal bars on the roundabout suddenly broke off and flew upwards with Thor and Loki, his eye almost popped out of his head.

Loki had had dreams of falling up.

In the dream, he would walk out of the palace, and suddenly he would be yanked away from Asgard and fall into the sky. In reality, though, it was much more thrilling. Traveling through Yggdrasil was always exciting, but there was a certain novelty to falling up instead of down.

His hands, clutching the mortal piece of metal, were white, and so was Thor's face next to him. His own raven hair blended into the black of space, and he felt like there were leaves tearing at his skin. All in all, it was amazing.

And then, suddenly, it was over, and they were over Asgard, and they were back to falling down, and he had just enough time to see Heimdall's expression—somewhere between horrified and annoyed—before they hit the rainbow bridge.

Too stunned and awed by their trip, Loki left the excited yelling to Thor, who was stumbling in dizzy circles on the bridge, threatening to fall over the edge again.

"Oh, dear," a female voice from behind them said. "You two look like you could use a nap."

Neither boy protested as Frigga gathered them up, gave an apologetic smile to the gatekeeper, and carried them back the palace.

Heimdall, for his part, looked on with a mostly impassive expression, before adding a new rule to his list:

2. DEFYING GRAVITY IS NOT AN ACCEPTABLE WAY TO GET TO ASGARD.

Odin stood watching the still spinning platform of the Midgardian object, that Loki and Thor had escaped using, for a few more minutes, stunned. His mind had gone blank and it made him feel stupid, so he ate a mushroom to make himself feel better.

And then he pulled out his phone.

"Heimdall, where are Thor and Loki now?!" The if they are even still alive went unsaid.

"They are on Asgard," Heimdall said in his normal monotone. "...Unharmed," he added as an afterthought.

Nodding absently, Odin commanded, "Take me up, Heimdall!"

There was a long pause, but eventually, Heimdall replied, "Yes, sir," and the familiar beam of interwoven colors surrounded him and brought him up to Asgard.

As he strode out of the stream, Heimdall observed him warily. Or, more specifically, the burritos that he knew were in a pouch on Odin's person. To his horror, the king pulled out a burrito and bit into it thoughtfully, staring into space.

In fact, he was so caught up in looking at nothing in particular that he tripped over the bed that Thor and Loki had ridden to the Bifrost on many, many hours ago, causing him to let go of his burrito, which fell over the side of the rainbow bridge.

Heimdall's eye twitched at this violation of the first rule of the Bifrost.

Shrugging, Odin pulled out another burrito, but this one blew up in his hand. He pulled out another, but it smelt strongly of bilgesnipe crap, so he threw it off the Bifrost. And, having run out of burritos, he started the long trek back to the palace.

Heimdall's eye twitched again, and he made a third rule to his list:

3. NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO THROW ANYTHING OFF THE BIFROST.

Down on Earth, some unfortunate person had a half eaten burrito land on his head. Angered, he glared up at the sky, only to have a second burrito, this one stinking badly, land on his face. It was not his lucky day.