Before heading to the supermarket, Dove paused on a wild hunch.That pouch of coins Loki tossed him… they were real, weren't they?
And gods probably didn't exactly carry knock-off junk.
A quick search on his phone told him there was a pawn shop across town that specialized in antique and rare items.Well, no harm in seeing what they'd say.
The shop was tucked between two fancier boutiques, all dark wood and glass cases.As soon as Dove pulled the little leather pouch from his pocket and spilled a few coins onto the counter, the shopkeeper's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
"Oh my god," the dealer whispered, holding one up to the light."Where did you get these?"
"Uh… inheritance," Dove offered with a shrug, doing his best innocent face.
The shopkeeper ran tests, checked weights, muttered into the back office—and came back looking like someone had just handed him the Holy Grail.
"Mr. Summers," the shopkeeper began carefully, hands trembling as he set the coins back on the counter,"these are incredibly rare. Pure, authentic Asgardian gold— I can give you…"He paused dramatically."…five million dollars for the lot."
Dove froze.His heart skipped a beat.And for a second, the world went blank except for that one beautiful number:
Five. Million. Dollars.
"You mean," Dove croaked, voice cracking, "in my account? Like… now?"
"Yes," the shopkeeper assured him eagerly."You just have to sign here."
He did.And just like that, the balance on Dove's phone screen — which had never been higher than a sad $100 — now showed a tidy $5,000,100.
He walked out of the shop feeling like someone had grafted wings onto him.
Next stop: the mall.
And oh, did Dove shop.
First, he filled a cart with all the ridiculous and very specific items Loki had requested — exotic teas, rare cheeses, elderberry cordial, you name it.Then loaded up every brand of beer and fine wine Thor could possibly want.
And then — feeling like a king himself — Dove decided to treat himself too.
A luxury watch shop?Why not.He picked out a gleaming silver watch that cost more than three months of rent.
New suits and clothes?Absolutely — sharp shirts, tailored pants, polished shoes.He hardly recognized himself by the time he was done.
He kept going — furniture, new bedding, even a slick flat-screen TV to replace the sad one back home.And every time the cashier looked nervous as they rang up the total, Dove just waved it off like money was dust.
"Have all this delivered," Dove instructed casually as the store manager rushed over with starry eyes.He scrawled his address on a clipboard like some kind of celebrity and left without a second thought — except for the couple of bags with beer, wine, Loki's shopping spree items, and groceries for dinner that he carried himself.
As he walked home, Dove couldn't help grinning.He had walked into that pawn shop as a nobody with lint in his pockets.
And he was walking out like someone who owned the world.
"Let's see what the gods make of this," Dove thought — practically giddy.
By the time Dove made it home, his arms were aching from carrying the bulging bags — but none of that mattered.
He kicked the door open and waltzed in like a new man.
The apartment was the same — hole in the ceiling, gods on the couch — but he was not.He plopped down his haul and took a deep breath.
First thing he did?Check his phone.
Bank balance: $4,000,000.
A number so surreal it could've been a typo.
He actually laughed under his breath."God, what the hell am I even gonna do with all this?"
That was when a shadow fell across him — a very big, very Asgardian shadow.
Before Dove could say a word, Thor had leaned over with a big grin, plucked a bottle of beer straight out of his grocery bags, and popped the cap off with his thumb like it was paper.
"Finally," Thor rumbled happily before taking a long, satisfied swig.
That snapped Dove out of his trance.
"Hey!" he protested, pointing wildly at the bags."That stuff cost — wait, you don't even care. Never mind."
From the couch, Loki was already surveying his own pile of treasures.He picked up a box of spiced chocolates like a jeweler inspecting a rare gem."Mm. Acceptable," Loki murmured, clearly satisfied.
Dove rubbed his face and decided to focus on something practical — like dinner.He turned toward the couch.
"Hey," Dove asked, "what do you guys even eat? I mean, I know you're gods and all, but do you need food?"
Thor paused mid-sip."Not need," he replied with a shrug. "But we do eat. It's enjoyable."
Loki smirked without looking up."Exactly. Even gods appreciate a good meal."
Dove's eyes lit up."Wait — so you don't need food?"
"Not necessarily," Thor rumbled casually.
That was it. Dove practically fist-pumped."Oh thank god," he said with relief."You mean I don't have to cook three meals a day for you freeloaders—"
And then Loki added, perfectly timed and ever-so-casually,"—But we have to eat. You don't want us getting… cranky."
Thor grunted in agreement."Yes. Very cranky."
That was like a record scratch in Dove's soul.
He stared at them."You just said you don't need food," Dove spluttered."Why do you also have to eat?!"
"Preference," Loki said, one brow arched as if that explained everything."And mortal food is… interesting."
Thor gave Dove a broad, toothy grin as he raised the beer bottle in a mock-toast."Besides, we appreciate your hospitality!"
And Dove?He just stood there — hands in his hair — wondering if gods could also appreciate ordering takeout forever.