#everyone on the server yells at me for my food choices but none of us deserve to see the gates of heaven

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 23

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2430

Warnings: none

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note:  written with the person who understands when I say you know, that guy in that band who sings songs.  @fanficwriter013​

Chapter 23: The Feast

We all stood in a group outside some ornate doors as we waited to be announced to the room for Thor’s victory feast.  Thor had picked up Riley because she kept trying to hide under everyone’s skirts or capes.  Pietro was cuddled in Bruce’s arms, hiding his face in his father’s neck.  Bruce had started looking nervous too and he’d subconsciously reached out and taken my hand as we’d approached the doors.

Everyone else was a mixture of nervousness and excitement.  This was both new and yet familiar to most of them.  They were used to being the center of attention.  The royalty in space thing was a novel twist to it though.

“Imagine how much food there’s going to be, bug?”  Clint said trying to distract Riley as she wriggled in Thor’s arms.  “Just a whole room of food.”

“Dats so much,” Riley said.  “Did Mags made it?”

“Some of it,” Thor said and Riley started clicking her teeth together.

“What’s that noise about?”  Clint asked.

“Gonna ead da food, daddy,” Riley said and started making nomming noises to go along with her chomping.

“I thought you were being picky,” Clint said, shaking his head.  “I should have known.”

“Yeah, Clint.  It’s Riley.”  I teased.

“Yeah, is Wiley.”  Riley mimicked.

Clint looked at me and blinked.  “You’re a horrible influence.”  He deadpanned.

I didn’t have time to counter because they began to announce us.  I was made to take Pietro, though I was told that he could sit in his own seat or with whoever he wanted once we were inside.  Clint was called first followed by Sam.  Then Natasha and Wanda.  Bucky and Tony.  Steve and Bruce.

Finally, I was ushered forward.  An older man stood by the side of a grand table at the front of a huge ballroom with large windows that looked out over the city.  The table was elevated above all the others and just in front of it, Loki sat with Sif and the warriors three.  We had been led in and then split, so Sam and Clint sat on the outside of the table, then Natasha next to Clint and Wanda next to Sam.  Tony was next to Natasha and Bruce next to Tony, while Bucky sat next to Wanda and Steve next to him.  The two chairs that were vacant and in the middle of the ten chairs were bigger than the rest.  The chair next to Steve was practically a throne.

“The Lady Elise.  Mother of the Heir.  With her, Prince Pietro Son of Clinton, bearer of shield.”  The old man said.  I walked out to an enormous cheer from the crowd and everyone got to their feet applauding and trying to see.

I took the seat next to Bruce and Pietro scrambled back into his lap, hiding as best he could in Bruce’s arms.

“Shh... “  Bruce soothed.  “It’s okay, little one.  We’re safe.  Hulk’s not even worried right now.”

Pietro looked up at Bruce and his eyes flashed green for a moment as he pressed a kiss to Pietro’s forehead.  Pietro didn’t say anything, but when he rested his head back against Bruce’s shoulder he seemed calmer.

“Thor.  King of Asgard.  Son of Odin.  Bringer of storms.  With him, Princess Riley. Daughter of Thor.  Bearer of shield.  Heir to the throne.”  The man announced.

Thor strode out carrying Riley who was looking around in awe.  The crowd erupted with applause.  Many people were calling out to Riley in the hopes she’d look at them.  Thor gave a wave as he reached his chair and Riley mimicked him making the cheering even louder.

As the room began to settle he took his seat.   He said something in that language I assumed was Asgardian.  Someone yelled something in return and Thor raised his hand.  “And now we feast.”  He roared.

There was another cheer and servers came out carrying trays of food.  We were served first and while our food was being put in front of us Riley turned and said something to Thor in that same Norse sounding language.

Thor raised an eyebrow at Riley and said something back to her.

“Did she just…?”  I asked.

“It was close,” Thor replied.  “That simplistic way she speaks, but it was Asgardian.”

“Huh,” I said shaking my head.  “Is that the Allspeak.”

Thor gave a small shrug.  “I assume it must be.”

We started to eat the first course.  Pietro finally stuck his head out from Bruce and began to pick at the food while Riley just wolfed things down.

Pietro picked up a piece of food and held it up.  “Whad’s dis?”

“It’s mackavon,” Thor replied.

“Is good, daddy?”  Pietro asked.

“Yes, son.  It’s very good.”  Thor answered.

“Is wike ham and fings,” Riley said with her mouth full.  Pietro tentatively took a bite.  He took a moment to decide if he liked it before tucking in properly.

The first course did have a ham-like quality.  Almost like ham wrapped peach in a jus.  It was more of a sample plate and quickly finished.  Riley started to lick the plate clean.

“Oh, Riley,” Steve said taking a napkin and wiping her face.  “We’re in public, honey.”

“She enjoys her food,” Thor said.

“That’s one way to put it.”  Tony joked.

“She is free to.  The customs are different here.”  Thor assured us.

“If you say so,” Steve said with a shake of his head.

More plates were brought out.  This time holding a small bowl with a clear broth, like a consommé with a single piece of bread with a paste on it floating in the middle.  Neither Pietro or Riley were particularly excited by it and they began to look around the room at all the people.  At one point I reached over and ran my fingers through the back of Thor’s hair as he attempted to keep Riley from toppling off the edge of the table and the crowd hushed and started whispering.  I thought I’d done something wrong but Thor assured me they liked seeing the casual display of affection and to prove it he kissed me.  Just a gentle peck on the lips but it made everyone cheer.

As the third course came out, this one a salad of sweet fruits and tangy leaves with crunchy seeds and nuts through it, Riley had started playing a game of name every single person in the room with Thor.  When he told her that she would have to go and ask Loki who all the people were she decided she’d had enough and stood up on his legs and waved at some people at a random table.  

There was a hush from the table and one woman fainted clear away.

“Honey, please, no,” Thor said gently.

“Daddy, she sick?”  Riley asked, trying to climb off his lap.

“She just became too excited.”  He explained.  “We’re going to stay here though.”

She pulled a face and sat back down again and began to pick the fruit out of her salad and shove it in her mouth.

With the next course, a selection of cold meats and cheeses, a food fight broke out, started by Clint and Fandral.  The whole room joined in with them, like the air of formality had been suddenly dropped and everyone realized who we actually were. Not royalty but regular people in an unusual position.

Riley was flailing about throwing food every which way, while Pietro panicked and got off Bruce’s lap and hid under Wanda’s skirts.

I threw something at Steve and he looked at me and narrowed his eyes.  “Oh, you’re gonna get it now, El.”  He said standing.

“No!”  I squealed, hiding behind Thor.

“Oh yes,” he said moving past him.

I backed up, giggling and throwing more food at him, using Bruce and then Tony as a shield.

“El, you started this.”  He said and picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder.  “And I’m gonna finish it.”

“No, Steve!”  I giggled flailing my legs.  People in the crowd laughed as they watched our antics even as the food fight was still going strong.

“You started this,”  Steve said, swinging me from side to side.

“I did not!  It was Clint!”  I protested as I failed my limbs.  “Someone help!”

“Clint made you throw food at me?”  Steve asked, giving my thigh a playful swat.

“It’s a food fight!”  I protested.

“Well, now you’re stuck there.”  Steve teased.

“Why won’t anyone help me?”  I whined.  “You’re supposed to be heroes.”

Steve suddenly groaned and dropped to his knee, letting me slip off his shoulder.

“C’mere, printsessa,” Natasha said, taking my hand.

“Are you okay, Steve?”  I asked, looking him over as he clutched his thigh.

“He’s fine.  It’s the only way he’ll learn.”  Natasha assured me.  She took a seat and I sat down in her lap.

“My hero,” I said as she kissed my neck.

“We should rescue Pietro too,” Natasha said.  “Wanda?  Can you send him down?”

Wanda crouched and spoke to Pietro who was hiding under her and he poked his head out from under her skirts, looked at us and then scrambled over, climbing up into Natasha’s lap and hiding in her side.

“I’m here, baby,” Natasha said.  “The adults are just having some unconventional fun.”

“Is messy,” Pietro grumbled.

“I know, honey.”  Natasha soothed.  “They’re stopping now.”

“You godda ead wif a fork.”  He said.

Natasha and I chuckled and she pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.  “I know, kiddo.  Don’t worry, we’ll just smush you between us.”

Pietro started giggling and wiggled against her shoulder.

“Oh, we’re gonna smush you.”  Natasha teased, ruffling his hair.

“I smush you, mama.”  Pietro giggled as he opened and closed his hands on Natasha’s back.

I wrapped my arms around both of them and squeezed them tightly. “I smushed both of you.”   Pietro giggled and squirmed between us.

The food fight seemed to trickle out and then end and some staff came out and started to clean up and hand out moist towels.  Another course was brought out, this seemed to be some kind of fish served in a crunchy red cone.

Pietro pushed it away from him and pouted.  “You don’t want that one, peanut?”  Natasha asked.

“Wiley frew da food and id god on me.”  He pouted.

“Did you want to change your clothes?”  Natasha asked.

He nodded as he tried to wipe the food off his robes.  Loki must have been listening in because she got up from her table in front of us and stalked over.  “Follow me.  Quickly now.”

Pietro held his arms up to her and she took him.  I got up and followed after her.

“Imbeciles,” Loki grumbled.  “What’s wrong with my little boy?”

“I’s dirdy,” Pietro said.

“Don’t worry, little one.  I shall get you cleaned up.”  She soothed.

She led us down to a room and into a large closet and began to walk down the racks of clothing.  “I suppose his father would pitch a fit if I put the boy in a dress?”

“If you mean Clint specifically?  No.  He wouldn’t care.  I don’t think any of them would care.”  I said.

Loki nodded and pulled something green out.  “I’ll give the boy options.”

She pulled out a few outfits and then let Pietro choose the one he liked best.  He picked out something in green and purple that wasn’t exactly a dress but was more dress-like than the robes he had been wearing.  I wiped him down and changed him into his new clothes and we took him back to the feast.  Everything had settled back down and another dish hand been brought out.  This one was a white foam and what looked liked caviar but tasted sweet on thick salty noodles.

We made it through three more courses without incident.  A deep-fried dish that had some kind of grains and leaves inside what almost tasted like sushi.  A thing that looked like meatloaf but when you ate it there was almost a sensation of eating tomato soup.  And something like a custard served in a glass that had a fish-like taste.

I was starting to get quite full and the kids had seemed to grow bored with eating.  Riley was just standing on Thor’s lap, bouncing and looking out at the crowd while Pietro was moving from one person’s lap to the next.

Riley suddenly stopped bouncing and pointed at a table at the back.  “Daddy deres kids.”

“Yes,” Thor agreed.  “There are kids here.”

“Pied!”  Riley called, still pointing at the table.  “Dey’s kids!”

Pietro looked up from where he was sitting on Sam.  He looked at Riley and then the kids and then at Sam.  I think it was probably the first time they had actually seen other kids besides Cassie who they had only met a couple of times.  I felt really bad because we really had been sheltering them way too much.

“Can we pway?”  Riley asked, looking back at Thor.

“You need to ask your mother,” Thor said.

She looked over at me.  “Mommy?  Mommy can we?  Pwease?”  She begged.

I looked from Natasha to Thor.  “They’ll be okay to play in here, right?”

Thor leaned over the table to the one in front.  “Will one of you supervise?”

“Of course,” Hogun said with a nod.  He got up and came to the end of the table.  “Come, little ones.  Let’s make friends.”

Both the kids scrambled off laps and ran over to him and he led them to the back table.  Hogun crouched down between the twins and the children at the table.  For a moment all the children looked too shy to actually do anything.  The parents of the other children watched on in shock as Hogun tried to act as a mediator.  After a few moments, the children all began to run around the tables together, laughing excitedly.

We sat through seven more courses while the kids played.  At that point, they seemed to set up a picnic on the ground and were taking turns feeding things to Hogun. By the eleventh course, they had returned and passed out.  One in Bucky’s lap and one in Thor’s.  By the 21st course, something that vaguely resembled s’ mores, but all the parts were separated and the wrong color, the feast was over.  We left to more applause and returned to our rooms.  The children were put into bed and the rest of us passed out together, full and as relaxed as we'd been since we'd arrived.

// NEXT

[miraculousmumma]

The Server

Characters:  Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the whole class, The Server (akuma)

Pairings: Love square

Warnings:  None

Word Count: 6095

Summary:  The end of term boat trip ends up more exciting than planned thanks to an akuma attack, but when Adrien gets knocked overboard, Marinette doesn't care who learns her secret, so long as he's safe...

It was the last day of term at Collège Françoise Dupont, and each grade had a different activity planned.  One class had a trip to the zoo, another the Louvre, but Marinette felt her class scored the jackpot.  A cruise down the Seine, with music and food, the latter of which was provided in joint conjunction with her parents bakery and Le Grand Paris, meaning that both her parents, Alya’s mom, and Chloe’s father had a hand in the trip, not that you’d know that from how Chloe was bragging.

‘You’d think she knows how an oven works, the way she’s going on.’  Alya commented, as she bit into the macaroon in her hand.

‘If she’s gloating, she’s not antagonising.’  Marinette commented.  ‘We have to be grateful for small mercies.’

‘Well, she’s kind of antagonising the staff.’  Alya rested her elbow on her friend’s shoulder.

‘But if she’s antagonising them, she’s leaving us alone.’

Alya gasped exaggeratedly.  ‘That’s not the Marinette I know.  Where’s the girl who stands up for the little guy?’

‘She wants a day off from being the saviour of the Chloe-trodden.’  Marinette pulled a face.

‘You think Ladybug wishes she has a day off?’

‘She’s human, I’m sure she often feels tired and wishes there wouldn’t be an emergency.’  Marinette argued.

‘Are we sure she’s human?  I mean, she has super powers, so she’s at least super human.’  Alya pointed out.  ‘But no matter her genetic code, she gets up and does it anyway, even if she is tired.’

‘You want me to go over there and save the waiter?  Really?’

‘Nah, girl, I’m messing with you.’  Alya laughed.  ‘We aren’t being paid to deal with Chloe.  He is.’

At the bow of the ship, Adrien leant on the rail, watching the buildings as their boat slowly drifted by.  It was definitely a leisure vessel, slow and sure, giving plenty of time to enjoy the scenery.

‘One fruit juice a la Nino.’  His friend handed him a plastic cup.

‘Thanks, Nino.’  Adrien took a sip, grateful for the extra ice, as it was a ridiculously warm day, and everyone was in summer wear; shorts, t-shirts, some of the girls had on dresses, including a certain girl Adrien’s eyes kept tracking back to.  He knew Marinette, she didn’t stumble over her words around him as much as she did, and he had come to learn what a sweet and talented girl she was, but what had him captivated was the fact she was today wearing a dress she had designed and made herself, or so he overheard her telling Juleka and Rose.  Halter-neck and falling to just above her knees, the base of the dress itself was black, not a common colour for a summer dress, but its saving grace was the pattern, a bright green design of randomly placed green eyes and cat paw prints.  She was stunning, he didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before, but she had even added ribbons in her hair to match, a green and black on each pigtail.  With her black sandals, she could have easily graced any magazine cover with him, and he would welcome her.

‘Dude, just go talk to her.’

‘What?  Who?  I don’t know what you’re talking about.’  Adrien said rapidly, turning back to his friend as he realised he had been staring.  Again.

‘It’s just Marinette, man.  Go talk to her.  Ask her what plans she has over summer break.  Ask her about the dress.  Ask to rub lotion on her shoulders, whatever, just stop staring like a creeper.’

‘I’m not staring like a creeper.’  Adrien said defensively.

‘No, you’ve just had your tongue unravelled since she arrived at school this morning.  Reel it in and go use words.’  He nudged his shoulder.  ‘I’ll even come with you and distract Alya so she doesn’t pounce into matchmaker mode.’

‘Okay, fine.’  He drank the rest of his juice in one go, as though the cup contained something stronger, and placed it on a nearby table.  ‘Let’s go.’

‘Ew, look at this, this is not acceptable!’  Chloe squealed, pointing dramatically at the table.

‘Completely unacceptable.’  Sabrina echoed from a step behind.

‘This cheese board my father provided is supposed to be served at room temperature.  That is far too soft!  Cool it down.  But not too much.  It needs to be perfect!’

‘It’s a very hot day, mademoiselle,’ the waiter tried to explain, ‘it is very difficult to maintain an exact temperature when the weather dictates…’

‘I don’t care about the weather, I care about if this cheese spoils.  Fix it!’

‘But there’s nothing I can…’

‘Does this look like room temperature to you?’  Chloe squawked, picking up the tray and slamming it into the waiters chest, cheese first, turning her hand so it would do the most damage to his uniform.  ‘Maybe that will teach you not to argue with your betters.’  And she stormed away, leaving the waiter to steam angrily while peeling the cheese tray from his chest, his uniform ruined, and cheese dripped unpleasantly onto the deck and his formerly pristine shoes.

‘Maybe I should have intervened.’  Marinette pulled a face as they watched the waiter go below deck.

‘Then you’d have ruined your dress, because Chloe was going to cover someone in cheese, and it was better the waiter than you.’  Alya argued.

‘I guess.  But I should have tried to calm the situation.’

‘Chloe is a cranky bitch who is also dehydrated and sunburnt.  She would pick a fight with a feather, as my mom says.  So let’s stay out of her way.’

Across town, in Hawkmoth’s lair, he had seen the man humiliated by the arrogant Miss Bourgeois, always a good source of negativity for him to utilise, and he quickly sent one of his akumas, knowing that a little terror on the Seine would be just the thing to bring Ladybug and Chat Noir running to the rescue.

‘What do I say?’  Adrien asked, as they edged around their friends towards where the girls stood by the buffet table.

‘Tell her she looks nice, girls love that, but be specific; I like your dress, is it new?  Have you done something different with your hair?  Trust me, don’t be generic.’

‘Non generic compliment.  Got it.’  Adrien stepped forward, an idea of what he would say in his head, when the deck before him exploded in a shower of splinters, an obviously akumatized victim standing before them.

‘I am The Server, and it is my job to give you what you want!’  He turned on Chloe.  ‘You wanted cheese, and cheese you shall have.’  In his hand he held a silver serving tray, and he pointed it at Chloe, showering her in a spray of cheese cubes, intent on burying her.

Adrien jumped forward, there was nowhere he could go to change, not with all his classmates here, he had to try and get The Server off the boat, and he was sure he could sneak off and change if things were less hectic.

‘Sorry, no one ordered seconds.’  He quipped, grabbing the victim from behind and pinning his arms, the rain of cheese ceasing immediately.

Marinette stepped forward the same time Adrien sprang into action, but Alya grabbed her arm, pulling her back.  ‘You can’t do anything to help girl, come on, we all need to find cover!’  Their friends were all panicking and screaming with nowhere to go, it was chaos.

‘But Adrien…’  She started, however she didn’t get to finish.

The akuma victim roared and threw his arms out, wrenching Adrien loose, and turned, firing a wave of croissants into him even as he stumbled back hard.  It all happened in seconds, but for Marinette it seemed like she had all the time in the world to watch as Adrien was knocked over the side of the boat in a shower of pastries.

‘Adrien!’  She yelped, pulling out of Alya’s grip and racing forward.

‘Mari!  Don’t!  You’re not a strong swimmer!’  Alya called after her, but Marinette had already devised a plan, and losing Adrien wasn’t on it.

She leapt up onto a chair with one foot, the other hitting the barrier around the boat a moment later, and all her classmates could recall was a random yell of; ‘Tikki, spots on!’ and a flash of pink.

Marinette’s transformation was complete by the time she hit the water, and she had to hope that none of her classmates realised what was going on, however that was the bottom of her priority list right now.  She looked around in the murky water of the Seine, for any shadow of size, but all she spotted was a small green glow coming towards her.  It was her only clue, for now, and she kicked towards it.  The green glow turned to two green lights, then two eyes, and she nearly expelled the breath she held when she realised it was another kwami, and not only that, but the black cat!  Wait, what?

Plagg had no choice, he knew he didn’t want to lose Adrien as his chosen, he would worry about the fall out when Ladybug had got him back to the surface, hopefully breathing.

Ladybug kicked harder as a dark shape in the water lightened as she approached, seeing it to be Adrien, his white shirt now visible in the water, and she was with him in seconds, wrapping her arm around his body and pulling free her yo-yo.  It was impossible to spin underwater, but as a magical artefact it propelled nonetheless, out of the water and onto the side of the boat, as rapidly as she dared, and she gasped as they hit the air, flying over the railing and rolling on the deck, the landing causing Adrien to start coughing, spitting up water from the river as Ladybug detangled herself from him.  She didn’t know where the black cat kwami had gone, but she had her suspicions, then Adrien’s shirt moved in a way that wasn’t quite natural, and her suspicions were confirmed.  Her breath caught, but her classmates just thought it was from the water as they gathered around.

‘Are you okay?’  She bent close to Adrien, studying him as though she hadn’t already memorised everything about him, looking for signs that had been there all along, she just hadn’t noticed.

Adrien nodded before turning his head, finding himself so close to the eyes he adored that they filled his vision, bluebell surrounded by red with black spots.  ‘Ladybug?’  He managed, before another bout of coughing took him.

She smiled and rested her hand on his shoulder, before turning to her classmates.  ‘He’s okay, anyone know which way that akuma victim went?’

‘Towards the Eiffel Tower.’  Max pointed as she got to her feet.

‘Ladybug, wait!’  Alya rushed forward.  ‘My friend, Marinette, she went in the water after Adrien.  She can swim, but she’s not the strongest.  She hasn’t come back up.’

Ladybug just stared at her best friend.  She had assumed her identity would no longer be a secret, that flinging herself off the boat as she changed had revealed her, but perhaps not.  ‘Marinette?’  She checked, and Alya nodded.  ‘I’ll find her, Alya, don’t worry.’  And she marched up to the side of the boat, huffing out a breath before diving over the side again.  She swum underwater towards the shore, where there were sporadic emergency ladders, and took a tight grip.

‘Tikki, spots off.’  She said, glad it would still work underwater, then climbed up the ladder and up onto the path that ran alongside.

‘There’s Marinette!’  She heard Nathaniel yell, and she rocked back to sitting to wave at her friends, then heard Alya shout; ‘What about Ladybug?’

‘Oh, I saw her swing off that way!’  Marinette yelled, pointing in the opposite direction, before pushing to her feet and running towards the nearest building, where she transformed again, propelling herself into the rooftops, stopping for a moment to catch her breath as the last five minutes played over in her mind.  Adrien was Chat Noir?  Chat Noir was Adrien?  All this time, all his flirting, and her rebuffing his advances…oh no.  A scream reminded her she had a job to do, and she started to run again, grateful that the sun beating down should have her dry in no time.

Adrien was still breathing heavily when he pushed to his feet, his body shaking with adrenaline and the temporary lack of oxygen, noting Mademoiselle Bustier speaking rapidly to the skipper of the vessel.

‘What happened?’

‘Akuma, bro.’  Nino hugged him, then pushed him away as he remembered he was soaking wet.  ‘Ladybug pulled you out of the water and went after it.  Mademoiselle Bustier is trying to get the skipper to stop here and our parents to collect us.’

He pulled a face.  ‘We’re seventeen, we can walk ourselves home.’

‘School policy.’  Nino looked equally put out.

Adrien growled and walked to the railing where he knew the akuma victim to be wreaking havoc from the noise and number of people running away from that direction.  Ladybug was out there alone, and right now he couldn’t do a damn thing to help her.

The Server reached a cafe, where someone seated outside was leaving a substandard tip, and he buried them in checks, laughing as he ranted about them deserving it.

‘Hey!’  Ladybug yelled, drawing his attention to her from where she stood behind him, yo-yo spinning.  ‘Don’t you know the customer is always right?’

‘The customer needs to learn to treat servers with respect!  And this is the only way they will learn!’  He spun his tray at her, spewing forth a slew of breadsticks, but she easily slid under it, kicking his legs out and bringing him down.

‘Personally, I always try and treat people how I’d like to be treated, until they treat me otherwise.’  She remarked as she bound him with her yo-yo, knocking him onto all fours.

‘Knocking over your server isn’t polite!’  He used the tray to spray a powerful jet of water, launching himself into the air, and Ladybug dragged behind with a yelp.

‘Come on!’  Adrien groaned as the kids were let off the boat one by one, checked off by Mademoiselle Bustier as their parents met them.

‘I’m sorry, Adrien, but your ride isn’t here yet.’  She said, as he reached her.

‘Oh, it’s there, I see it!’  He pointed at a random silver car that passed.  ‘Probably can’t park due to all the extra traffic.  It was a fun day, Mademoiselle Bustier.’  He said rapidly before sprinting up the gangplank.

‘But, Adrien…!’  She called after him, but he was already lost in the crowd.  She sighed.  Now she had to go and explain to Marinette’s parents that she was somewhere down the path.

‘You could have at least grabbed me some of the cheese off the deck.’  Plagg complained as Adrien darted into an alleyway.  ‘It smelled amazing.’

‘Plagg, priorities!  I’ll get you a wheel of camembert when we get home!  But for now, claws out!’

Ladybug wasn’t doing well.  The server had a serious hatred of people in general, apparently, and any dining out “crime” was considered punishable by covering in the appropriate substance.  One man had spilled the salt, for that he was buried in it.  Another woman demanded a clean fork because of watermarks, and she found herself hemmed into a cage of the cutlery, unable to get out.  And boy, was he picky.  He seemed to know every food ever dropped, every condiment ever spilled, every time you put salt packets on a plate instead of leaving them on a table, apparently that really irritated servers, and Ladybug regretted that her Marinette side was so clumsy, because he had a lot of ammo to throw at her.  Right now he was firing macaroons at her with speed and precision, and he hit her yo-yo, just as she was aiming for a high chimney, leaving her to plummet towards the ground.

‘Gotcha!’  Chat was there just in time, vaulting into her trajectory and catching her easily, landing on the roof of Le Grand Paris, where the restaurant was well renowned for its diners of a certain calibre.

‘Good catch, Chat.’  She sighed, more in relief at seeing him okay than at having been saved.

‘I’d never let you down.’  He spun his staff before leaning on it.  ‘Your hair’s wet.’

‘I had to pull someone out of the Seine before here.’  She remarked, overly casually.  ‘You’re wet too.’  She reminded herself to point out, knowing she wasn’t supposed to know what she knew.

‘I was…uh…showering!  Yes, showering, you know us cats love our cleanliness.’  He stammered.  ‘So, what are we dealing with?’

‘Crazy waiter, it looks like.  Trying to punish people for their crimes against servers.’

‘Well, I happen to be a perfect guest to have to dinner, want to find out later?  Say, eight o’clock?’  He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she just stared at him.  Adrien Agreste was flirting with her, had been flirting with her for the last few years.  And she had ignored it.

‘Sure, right, eight.’  She shook her head, trying to clear it.  ‘But what are we doing about the garçon?’

‘Giving him a hefty tip and hoping for the best?  Wait…was that a yes?’

‘Let’s talk later, Chat.’  She turned back to find their foe chasing a small group who had emerged from the hotel restaurant.  ‘The akuma is obviously in the tray.  Think you can distract him so I can get close enough to destroy it?’

‘Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to distract him while I sneak up and cataclysm the tray?’  He suggested.

Ladybug swallowed, not wanting to put him close to harm, knowing who he was.  She loved him, she didn’t want him hurt, not if she could prevent it.  ‘Let’s try it my way first, chaton.’  She forced a smile, before putting her lucky charm into action.

‘As my lady wishes.’  He shrugged, watching as a plunger dropped down into her waiting hands.

‘This is…interesting.’  She pulled a face at it.

‘Maybe all this rich food gave him a blockage.’  Chat shrugged.

‘Well, I guess it’s up to us to…something.’  She screwed up her nose.

‘You’ll figure it out, Bugaboo, you always do.  Let’s do it.’  And he ran off in one direction, while she went in the other.

It seemed The Server was going after the root of the problem, that of Mayor Bourgeois, holding him responsible for Chloe’s bad manners, and Ladybug found herself sneaking in the doors after Chat had chased him into the restaurant, where he was now deliberately making a mess.

‘Oops.’  He had seated himself on his haunches at a large table at the back, and was casually knocking everything off one item at a time, like a pernickety cat trying to cause trouble.  ‘Waiter, there’s something wrong with these flowers.’  He said, before knocking the entire vase off.  ‘And this salt pot is almost empty.’  He knocked that next.  ‘The pepper is gunked up.  This spoon is dirty.’

‘Stop, you insolent fool!  You do not deserve table service!’  And he launched a barrage of condiments at him, but Chat merely flipped to the next table, where he knocked a basket of bread on the floor.

‘Good job, kitty.’  Ladybug murmured, crouching behind the table nearest where she entered and crawling closer.  So far nothing had lit up her ladybug senses to show her what to use the lucky charm for, but if this worked she might not even need it.

She managed to get under the table beside where he stood, hidden by the cloth, and lifted the edge so she could see his feet.  She pulled the cloth back rapidly and sprung at the akumatized villain, just as he turned to attack Chat again, and she missed him, landing heavily face down on the floor with an; ‘Umph!’ loud enough to draw his attention.  She heard Chat shout her name, and was suddenly showered with croissants.  Yeah, she remembered dropping plenty of croissants over the years.  She tried to push herself up, but it was as though they weighed so much more than normal croissants, which made sense; if they were evil croissants, why would they be light and fluffy?

Chat watched in horror as Ladybug was buried in pastries, almost disappearing entirely under their sheer volume, and he knew the plan wasn’t working.  He sprang into action and hitting the villain hard enough to send him across the room, stopping the onslaught of food so he could clear the unusually heavy croissants from Ladybug and drop down beside her, checking she was okay.

Ladybug groaned and shook her head before pushing with her arms, finding herself helped, and she turned to find Chat’s green eyes looking at her in concern.  ‘Chat, what?’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Where’s The Server?’

‘He’s…whoa!’  Chat pulled her closer and backflipped behind a table, just as a torrent of camembert struck where they had been.  ‘Yeah, he’s there.’

‘You need to be more careful!’  She complained, pulling out of his arms and peeking over the table.

‘So do you.’  He quipped, joining her.  ‘Any luck with your charm yet?’

‘I’m not…’  She started, just as the tray lit up, red with black polkadots, and she knew there had to be something else to lead up to it.  She looked everywhere, the entire room, finally slumping back down and staring at the plunger in her hands.  ‘I don’t get it.  It’s just this and…’ then she realised that there was another spotted object in her field of vision, pretty much so under her nose she hadn’t noticed it.  Her yo-yo, and then Chat’s hand.

Quickly she tied the yo-yo around the end of the plunger.  ‘Okay, Chat, get cataclysm ready.  That tray is coming to you.’

‘Alright.’  He nodded.  ‘Cataclysm!’  And he crouched, hands ready.  ‘On your mark, my lady.’

‘Okay, be ready.’  She jumped to her feet and threw the plunger like a javelin, hitting the tray dead centre, then pulling it out of his grip.  ‘Now, Chat!’

He jumped up as she ducked, hitting the tray as it flew over her head, rusting as it came clattering to the ground and shattering, releasing the akuma inside.

‘Time to deevilize!’

It was only minutes later that the room was returned to normal, along with the rest of the city, although Chloe still smelled faintly of cheese.  They helped the victim to his feet, just as their miraculous’ beeped for the first time.

‘We have to head off, right, my lady?’

‘Right.’  She agreed, letting him lead the way.

‘But, are we still on for tonight?  Eight o’clock we said?’

‘Sure, Chat.  Eight o’clock.’  She agreed.  ‘Where?’

‘Champ de Mars?’  He suggested.

‘Alright.’

‘Catch you later, Bugaboo.’  He winked at her before propelling himself into the rooftops.

‘Bye, Adrien.’  She whispered, racing off herself as her earrings beeped again.

Marinette flopped down on her chaise and kicked off her shoes, as Tikki flew out of her bag to look down at her.

‘So, you know who Chat is now.’

‘Uh huh.’  Marinette stared up at the ceiling, not quite sure she was functioning.

‘But he doesn’t know who you are.’

‘Nope.’

‘And you met his kwami.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Marinette, say something else?  Please?’  Tikki asked.

‘What do you want me to say, Tikki?  I just found out my biggest admirer, who I’ve been spurning for years, is the boy I’ve been in love with for exactly the same amount of time.’

‘His kwami’s name is Plagg.’

For some reason that single fact seemed to snap Marinette out of it, and she propped herself up on her elbows.  ‘What?’

‘Adrien’s kwami is called Plagg.  We’ve known one another a long time.’

‘Did you know Adrien was Chat Noir?’  She tucked her legs up, crossing them, putting her hands in her lap.

Tikki sighed and sat on her knee, facing her.  ‘I did.  Plagg and I haven’t spoken since you became our chosen, but we have interacted.  Just gestures, waves.  We shared that macaroon when you fought Dark Owl.’

She nodded.  That made sense.  Deep down she had known that Tikki knew Chat’s identity, but it hadn’t crossed her mind that she actually knew him, and well.  ‘What do I say to him, Tikki?’

‘How about the truth?  That you found out by accident while saving him.’  Her kwami shrugged.

‘That easy?’  She asked doubtfully.

‘It can be.’  Tikki flew up and kissed her cheek.  ‘It will all be alright, Marinette.  You’ll see.’

Adrien showered the Seine out of his hair and talked the whole while, not that Plagg was really listening.  He had his cheese wheel and had no intention of letting the excited hormonal ramblings distract him.

‘She’s going to be there, she said she would.  I’m going to take a picnic, with a blanket…and candles, we should have music too, I can play that through my staff, what do you think she likes to eat?’

‘Aphids.’  Plagg replied.

‘That’s gross.’  Adrien pulled a face.  ‘I meant my Ladybug, not real ones.’

‘How should I know.  Human food.  Probably lots of cheese.  Make sure you pack some.’

‘I know why you want me to take cheese.’  Adrien laughed.  ‘But even your gluttony can’t ruin my mood.  Ladybug agreed to meet me, outside of emergencies and patrols!’

‘Maybe she just wanted to shut you up.’  Plagg suggested.

‘It’s my chance to show her I’m more than she thinks.’  Adrien continued undeterred.  I need to look my best.’

‘You need to look like Chat.’

‘I need to smell good then.’  Adrien went to the array of expensive colognes he had been given to promote.  ‘Which do I pick?’

‘One that won’t make her eyes water.’

‘You’re no help.’  Adrien glared at him.

‘I honestly don’t care, go with your gut, and I’ll go with mine.’  Plagg replied before taking another huge bite of cheese.

Chat was early, he desperately wanted to make the right impression.  He spread the picnic blanket on the ground beneath a tree, and had brought some battery operated string lights which he hung from the lowest branches.  It would be twilight soon and the lights would look pretty, he hoped.  He set out the juice and glasses he had brought with him, having decided against wine, then tried to figure out how to sit to wait for her.  First he laid on his side, propped on one elbow, then decided it didn’t feel right, it was too flirtatious.  He tried crosslegged, but felt it too childish, then he leant back on his hands and crossed his legs in front of him.  Nothing felt right.

‘I think you looked most relaxed laying down.’  Ladybug’s voice from behind him made him jump, turning to find her dropping down to the ground elegantly, and he scrambled to his feet.

‘My lady.’  He swept in a low bow.  ‘I’m glad you could make it.’

‘I’m not late, am I?’

‘Not at all.’  He grinned, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles softly, and Marinette’s heart skipped a beat.  ‘Come take a seat.  Apple juice?’

‘Please.  This looks lovely, Chat.’  She indicated to the blanket and lights.

‘You’re worth it.  At least the gardens are generally empty at this time.’

She nodded.  ‘So, I’m glad you asked me here tonight.’

‘Me too.  I never thought I’d get you to say yes.’  He smiled, and it was worth it just to see that alone.

‘I should have said yes sooner, but…’ she sighed, ‘today sort of gave me a push.’

‘What was different about today?’  He offered her the first glass.

‘I guess…I was more worried about you.  I didn’t want you in harms way, but I still couldn’t do it without you.’

‘We’re good team.’  He reminded her.  ‘We always have been.’

‘We have.’  She agreed.  ‘I don’t want that to change.’

‘Why would it change?’  He tilted his head to one side before opening the picnic basket and bringing out a bowl of strawberries.  ‘Are you hungry?’

‘Not just now.  In a little while, maybe.’

Chat put down his glass and looked at her seriously.  ‘Something is bugging you, Bugaboo, and I don’t know if it’s me.’

‘It’s not you, not really.  I mean it is you, because you’re right there, I mean here, with me, but I mean it’s not something you’ve done, or even something I’ve done, but…’

‘You’re cute when you ramble.’  He smirked, and it made her stop.

She sighed deeply, taking a sip of the obviously freshly pressed apple juice.  ‘I was more afraid for you today.’

Chat frowned in confusion.  ‘Because of the villain it was?’  He asked, not knowing what else could have made her so worried.

She put down the glass in frustration at herself not knowing how to tell him.  She had gone over it in her head a hundred times, but now each scenario had combined and she was confusing herself.  Pushing to her feet she stepped off the blanket, hoping not looking at him would help, and trying a different tactic as the frustration ate at her, creating such irritation she all but growled; ‘I hate it when you put yourself in danger for me.’

‘But, that’s my job.’  He reminded her pointedly.  ‘The city needs you to deevilize the akuma, to save the victim.  That means I have to put myself between you and any imminent danger.’

‘That doesn’t mean I have to like it!’

‘You’ve never complained before.’  He looked at her back, her shoulders tense.  This was obviously a real bugbear for her.

‘I…just…please, try not to do it, try not to get between me and danger.  Don’t put yourself in danger for me!’  She said, harsher than she meant to, and the tone made him raise his hand, placing it on her shoulder and turning her to face him.

‘I have to!’  He argued.  ‘I would take a hundred hits for you, and however many more it takes!’

‘I don’t want you hurt, Adrien!’  She blurted, and immediately went wide eyed, covering her mouth with both hands at what she had said as he staggered back.

‘You…you know who I am?’

She dropped her head, letting out a sigh that was as much a groan as anything else.  ‘I found out earlier.’

‘Claws in.’  Chat said quietly, and Ladybug looked up in time to see a green wave pass over him, revealing the boy she was in love with.  ‘It’s a problem for you that this is who I am?  You don’t trust me, now that you know that I’m just a model, a kid playing hero?  I’m no different than I was when we patrolled last night, but my civilian me makes me less…’

She couldn’t bear it, to hear him be so self deprecating, and the only thing she could think of doing was stepping close, taking his face in her hands, and kissing him.

Adrien wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had demanded his miraculous and left him there.  His lady, she was kissing him, by choice, her choice, and…wow!  Adrien’s arms reached around her and pulled her close, his lips responding to hers with desperation, so many years of feelings remaining unrequited, all leading to this moment.

Adrien kissing her back was enough of a reality check to shake her to her core.  It was everything she wanted, but it wasn’t real, because she knew if she stood here as Marinette he wouldn’t respond, he would push her away.  She was just a friend, and she couldn’t lead him on like that.  She broke the kiss and stepped back, forcing her way back out of his arms as tears filled her eyes.  ‘I’m sorry, Adrien, I didn’t mean to find out, I really didn’t.’

‘Don’t cry.’  Was all he could think of saying.  ‘Please don’t cry, my lady.’  And he stepped towards her, fully planning on holding her and reassuring her it was okay, that he felt a great weight had been lifted from him, but she held her hands up between them to keep him back.

‘It was my fault.’  Plagg announced, from where he had been floating behind Adrien, well out of the way, and they both turned to him.  ‘You would’ve drowned, and I’ve got kind of attached to you…I mean the cheese you have.  It’s pretty good quality.  And I’d miss you.’

Adrien turned to his kwami, surprised by his sudden emotional confession.  It was more than Plagg normally let on, and he knew it hadn’t been deliberate but…

‘You were knocked off the boat.’  Ladybug’s voice said quietly from behind him, and Plagg flew up beside her so Adrien could see them both.  ‘I couldn’t let anything happen to you.  I didn’t care if everyone saw me transform.  I had to save you, I didn’t know that…’

It was his turn to stop her with a kiss, but she broke it immediately, however he wasn’t letting her go that easily this time.  He curved his arms around her and held her tight.  ‘Thanks for the rescue.’

She swallowed hard enough for him to see, tears leaving streaks over her mask and cheeks.  ‘All in a days work, right?’  She tried to sound cheery, but it didn’t work.

‘Right.  And why are you crying, exactly?  Because a few seconds ago you kissed me, and it’s a bit confusing.’

‘Because you’d only kiss me like this.  You don’t see me in my civilian guise, but I’m right there, every day.  And I look at you, and I had no idea you were by my side all along, but only like this.’  Her voice broke.  ‘Only as Ladybug.’

‘I want to be beside the girl behind the mask, I always have.’  He argued.  ‘But you have to give me the same chance you have, to know the girl behind the mask.  You obviously know me, well enough to want to kiss me, even though you know I’m Chat.’

‘That just makes it better, and harder!’  She choked.  ‘You’re my best friend, and the boy I love, all rolled into one, but without the suit I’m just a friend.  That’s all I’ve ever been, that’s all I will ever be, and I can’t live a lie, hoping that you’d come to terms with who I really am!’

He looked at her, could virtually see the passion in her like a physical thing, how she stood up for whatever she believed in, such conviction, and he realised how blind he had been, all this damn time.  ‘I’d take both of you, Marinette.’

‘If you knew you wouldn’t be saying that, you’d…what?’  She realised he had called her by her name, not Ladybug, or Bugaboo, or my lady, by her actual name.

‘I said I’d take Ladybug and Marinette, you know, if you’d let me.’

‘You knew?’  Her words came out high pitched, portraying her surprise perfectly.  ‘For how long?’

‘About thirty seconds now.  Maybe thirty five.  I wasn’t really counting.  I didn’t know there’d be a test.’  She just stared at him, unable to process what he had just said, if he had actually said it at all.  ‘How about you sit down, change back into that cute little cat dress, and we talk about this?’

‘The dress got wet.  I’m wearing shorts and a vest.’  Was all she could say.

‘Shame,’ he said as he carefully let her go, holding her hands instead and walking backwards to the blanket, ‘maybe you can have it clean and dry for our date tomorrow night.’

‘Our…what?’

He pulled her to sit down then pulled on her glove.  ‘What’s your trigger words to get this thing off?’

‘Spots off.’  She whispered, and after a moment of pink glow she sat before him, just Marinette, in her pink shorts and white floral vest top, and she was perfection.

Adrien smiled at her warmly, her cheeks flushed pink, and she was all he had ever dreamt of and more.  He reached out without looking and picked up the bowl, holding it between them.  ‘Strawberry?’

‘Thanks.’  She took one, but didn’t eat it, still amazed at how this evening had gone.

He wiped at the tears on her face, cleaning them up as best he could.  ‘You know, princess, I think this is the beginning of something beautiful between us.’

[rylredrants]

20 Years Ago

It’s been 20 years since that day. And just like I wrote in the only ‘memory’ referencing 9/11 on my Facebook, I don’t want to jump on a bandwagon or soapbox. I don’t want to join the throngs of people answering the question that, for those of my generation, needs no explanation… “Where were you when?”

But I can’t not write today.

For me, the where was easy. I was in Colorado Springs.

To say it’s an area with a large military community doesn’t do justice to the sentiment. The Air Force Academy, Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Stations, Fort Carson Army Post, Peterson Air Force Base, and Schriever Air Force Base are all within an hour’s drive, give or take traffic. My new husband was stationed at Fort Carson, a Cavalry Scout.

My mother called me in hysterics- which was not unusual, waking me up earlier than normal. I was working at the Olive Garden as a server. My daughter was 4 years old.

I got up, took her to daycare, and went to work. There was a TV on the same kind of AV cart we got excited about in school sitting inside the server’s station on one side. We didn’t have customer-facing televisions and this was long before smartphones were in everyone’s pockets.

Another military spouse showed up for her shift, unaware of the events. She turned around to go home. She lived on Fort Carson and didn’t get through the gate for several hours.

That evening, I was part of a small sleepover of sorts where a handful of us “Scout Wives” held vigil together- crying and waiting for some kind of news from our husbands. The post was locked down tight. We didn’t get to hold them in our arms until the evening of September 12th.

The “where” is an easy question.

I think the bigger question is “WHO were you when? And who did you become in the aftermath?

Twenty years ago, I was a 22-year-old newlywed. He was my 2ndhusband- a cute boy in a green uniform with bright blue eyes, a grin for miles, and a quirky little gap between his front teeth. He had deployed to Bosnia straight out of basic training. We met in a bar within weeks of his return to the states, around Valentine’s Day of 2001.

The day the towers fell, he still was not old enough to legally buy a beer.

I had already rebuilt my life once when I left California and split up with my daughter’s father. Our new life was just beginning, but when my mother wailed, “You just married a soldier and we’re going to WAR!” I felt it. I felt my entire life unraveling again.

We moved to Germany the following spring where he was almost immediately sent to Kosovo. It was slated to be a 6-month tour. His replacement unit was sent to Iraq as part of OIF 1, so they extended their mission to 9 months. From there, there were moves back to Colorado, a separation, reconciliation, a move to Texas, and 2 more deployments to Iraq.

By the time we separated, I was 30 years old. We owned a home and he was slated for a third deployment to Iraq. The TBI (traumatic brain injury), PTSD, migraines, and back problems were so bad that he did not deploy, and was medically discharged before his 30th birthday.

We stayed on friendly terms for another decade, but every time I saw pictures of his new life and new wife I felt all of it all over again. He still had the big grin, but the sparkle in his eyes was gone.

That man has his name, his fingerprints, and his DNA but little else remained of the boy I married all those years ago. My husband went to war, but despite coming back upright and without a flag draped over his body, he never came back.

This is one of those things that people outside the military community don’t often realize. Whether or not you wear the uniform, war changes you. Military families deal with their own stress, trauma, loneliness, and fear from having loved ones in a warzone for weeks, months, and sometimes years at a time.

Waiting for that telegraph, knock on the door, or news story that mentions their unit… that part has changed over the years but living in that constant state of dread is the same.

It’s a state of anticipatory grief… waiting for the moment when the grief process will begin and be recognized by those around you.

When the same uniform walks through the door, the rest of the world sees the happiness of a homecoming.

But for so many, that happiness is often quickly replaced with learning who the person wearing the uniform has become in their absence.

New kinds of stress, trauma, loneliness, and fear often follow.

The stress of readjusting to sharing your home. The trauma, packed neatly away in their rucksack spills out all over the floor with their gear. Then comes the loneliness when they isolate and disconnect, and fear that you will become the target of their anger.

When my soldier returned, his drug of choice was video games. I called myself a ‘PlayStation Widow’ because he would spend every waking moment outside of work with a controller in hand, often not getting up to eat, drink or even smoke. His anger was most pronounced in his road rage- yelling, swearing, speeding, and tailgating.

I learned to manage his anger with my tears.

The rage would take hold and I would take responsibility for it, trying to figure out how I could have caused it. ‘What did I do? How can I fix this? What does he need?’ Eventually, I realized that he only calmed down once I’d become so spun up into it that I’d broken down in my own panic.

Over a decade later, when my current partner, Pirate, is struggling with his mental health, my first instinct is still to take responsibility.

It’s only because of the therapy, medication, and communication, on both sides, that I’m able to acknowledge and support him without taking it on as my own.

I swore I’d never get involved with military personnel again when that marriage ended.

What I hadn’t considered is that relationships are often brought about by proximity. I’ve lived near military installations for most of my adult life- Forts Carson, Hood, Meade, and Huachuca stateside, plus 2 years in Germany.

Friends, lovers, 2 ex-husbands, and my current partner have all brought their own trauma-filled rucksacks along with them, and into my life.

They each had their own experiences and their own way of handling things.

Dirty D had a picture on his MySpace of himself crouched down, naked, pistol in hand that was taken shortly before he was hospitalized for holding the gun to his head. I was friendly with his wives and girlfriends, including the one he moved to Idaho with to live off the grid on a hand-built homestead.

Taz was working nights as a bouncer when we met. He was sent to Germany only to be medically discharged and returned to Texas because his body was too damaged from previous trips to “the sandbox” to deploy again.

The Postman shared stories he wrote about his time in Mogadishu, Somalia. You probably know that as the place where "Black Hawk Down" happened. We met while he was on leave from Iraq and he later emailed more stories to me from Afghanistan.

The Mad Scientist once talked about being with his unit early on during Operation Iraqi freedom. Food was scarce so they were only getting one MRE a day. He had a stash of candy bars that he broke small pieces off from to share with the guys in his unit that were struggling the most with hunger.

MM also experienced those lean rations and hunger along with going days on end unable to get clean. The bulk of his PTSD revolved around food and cleanliness.

We once drove over 3 hours to go to a ‘Princess Bride’ themed burlesque show. The venue said they had food, and we didn’t have time to get dinner before going to the theater. When he discovered that the concession stand was closed he had a meltdown, leaving me alone to go get a hamburger at a bar down the block.

Pirate has nightmares, crying out in his sleep and trembling so violently that our bed shakes. He was medically discharged from the Army before his unit deployed. He lives with survivor’s guilt on top of the PTSD he developed as a 5-year-old missionary kid in Kenya during a civil uprising.

And none of this takes into account the first responders, civilians, and all of their families who have been impacted by this.

Here we are 20 years later...

I just saw a video where a teacher discussed telling her students about 9/11. She explained that there were 3 targets that symbolized the very idea of America in their own way. The World Trade Center was a representation of the American economic power, the Pentagon is a symbol of military power, and the 3rd target, the Capitol is the seat of our democracy.

20 years later, the 3rd target was attacked again.

This time, the attack did not come from foreign powers but instead from home-grown terrorists, radicalized to believe the blatant lies of a spray-tanned reality TV star who is spending this anniversary as a ringside commentator at a casino boxing match in Florida. I couldn’t make this up if I tried.

We are in a politicized pandemic that quite literally almost killed my own mother last week. I’m living in the hottest city in America where we moved for a job that Pirate was fired from 3 weeks after we signed our year-long lease.

Oh, and the Capitol police have requested the fences be put back up for the “Justice for J6” rally next weekend. These 'very fine people' are gathering to show solidarity for those who literally smeared shit on the halls of our democracy.

Showing support for those arrested for assaults that left several people injured. Five people died shortly before, during, or after the event, and 4 officers who responded to the riot died by suicide in the months since.

Today there are people all over social media posting stories of where they were that day.

But others are the younger people who have been taught to “remember” an event that was little more to their personal history than a scary movie on TV. They were too young or too far removed from it to carry the same scars as those who lived through the events of that day and all that came after.

I’m glad they only have to perform the remembrance rather than experience it. But for the rest of us, I think that it is part of the healing to look back on this anniversary and say,

“I was there. I was present. That day changed my life in ways that still matter to me.”

[supergirlimaginesfic-blog]

Lena x reader (I could use a little bit of you right now)

Request: Lena x reader : where you're kara's sibling and lena has a crush on you

a/n: this prompt was so fun to mess around with, so thank you for that!!! I feel like there was so much potential for ALL the dumb ideas and I just got so excited. Also, just assume you’re Alex’s biological sibling or something, nothing too deep. You’re a fam and it’s happy, that’s it LOL. I just absolutely love the Danvers sisters dynamic, and how much better is it if you get a little part in it too?

I’m a really big fan of Lena falling for someone who has pretty much the most Mundane daily routine. Like, her entire life is so full of Greatness and Legacy and constant threats of being killed, but really? Imagine being the person who gives Lena that so very desired sense of normalcy, and being the one to balance her life out like that. Imagine her coming home from L-Corp and just being able to be ordinary. I like that a lot, I think Lena deserves that

- - - - -

There are two facts you can rely on in life and it follows as such: 1. you’re about as adorably oblivious as your older sister, Kara. 2. Your other sister, Alex, will stop at absolutely nothing to constantly remind you of that aforementioned fact.

You weren’t the prone to getting hit by errant cars or finding yourself dealing with shady people type of clueless - you would in fact say you are a bit too aware of your surroundings for that, a lot in part having to do with having an alien and also a special forces secret agent in the family. But that’s all technicalities.

You wouldn’t even argue with your annoying big sister, Alex, if she’d ever say you were oblivious when it came to taking a hint and realizing that people were hitting on you - it seemingly took a lot for you to realize that, and that left for a plethora of laughable situations in retrospect whenever the three of you went out together.

For her part, Alex is owning the big shot, totally hot shit role really well and as the oldest sister, you figure she deserves that title. You’re loath to resist reminding her of how equally useless she was in the beginning stages of her relationship with Maggie - you’d get a very dark look in return and a noogie when you’d least expect it, and Alex has a killer headlock.

In the grand scheme of all things romantic, the Danvers siblings are a humble species of their own. It seemed that no one in your family had the time or the energy to spare for dating and delving into the world thereof. You would consider yourself a bit of a serial dater as well, not really convinced by the excitement and thrill which casual dating seemed to bring for a handful of your friends.

You’d had your fair share of love and heartbreak in your plentiful years of living, and by now you’d learned that if something was bound to happen, it would happen, and you’ve resigned to letting love or whatever else find you.

These are the thoughts you’d seemed to have when you were at work, a line cook job at a combined pizza bistro and music lounge you’d kept since high school.

It was a particularly slow lunch service, even for a restaurant at the heart of downtown National City, and this allowed you certain freedoms like connecting your phone to the speakers and letting your invariably questionable music taste blast throughout the kitchen - your coworkers won’t ever stop giving you shit for your immeasurably vast taste in music. You have music for all moods, damn it, and so help you if your playlist reflects your equally unpredictable shifts in mood.

Seeing as you had nothing else to do, and your boss was way too lax about really everything that could involve his business, you open your text messages and finally give yourself the chance to reply to some messages you’d gotten in the morning.

you: “lol work is so dead right now, I love being the normal sibling”

You chuckle to yourself as you reread your text message, totally honest in your self-evaluation. There weren’t many people in your life who would have reason to compare you to your big sisters - at least, not in the way one usually would find themselves when dealing with two other successful older siblings.

Sure, in civilian eyes Alex may be a doctor and Kara might be a journalist at a highly infamous media company, but you were and always will be the baby of the group, and you enjoyed certain liberties because of it.

Who cared if Alex was a special forces agent of a secret government organization, and who cared if Kara was literally Supergirl? You developed a comical nonchalance so early in your childhood to deal with having a new alien sister sprung on you, and you’ve brought your humour as a necessary coping mechanism with you into your adulthood.

When you were much younger, Alex might have been worrying about the very serious social conundrums a teenager could face and was preoccupied with not being too weird in school, but who really had the time for that? You certainly did not have time for Alex’s teenage foolishness - you enforced your weekly routine of visiting the public library to get your stack of books, it was all you asked for after all.

When you got older, you stayed very much a sensible young adult, begging Kara to play with wood and matches and setting things on fire with her eyes whenever Alex had to babysit you two.

And now, in your twenties, you were ever the same, content in your simplicity. Whenever Alex and Kara were worrying about the next threat to security, you waited in tense anticipation for the next big AAA game on your video game console to become available in National City.

You had modest concerns; when would you fix your broken guitar? When would you find the time to read that book you started years ago? You lived a simple life compared to your older sisters, and none of you have said it, but you all know it balanced everyone out.

Lena: “Normal, but not any less wonderful, surely? Though I’m certain Alex and Kara would have some choice words to say about your gloating ;) I’m just about to head off for my designated hour and a half of lunch. Jess is really starting to put her foot down regarding that.”

you: “I am absolutely the greatest Danvers, you are so right. All that genius of yours and I’ve never once doubted it, you should let Alex know this too”

you: “But good for Jess that she is, at least someone is using all that power for good...”

Lena: “Here I was about to ask for your recommendation of a stellar restaurant establishment with the most agreeable staff, one in which I could enjoy my lunch break in peace, but it seems as though you’re busy lecturing someone at the present moment...”

you: “Lecturing a certain someone for their inhumane workaholic tendencies?? it’s a sacrifice I make for the greater good”

you: “Come down and visit me? I’m bored :(”

Lena: “Well, since you asked so nicely. I will be seeing you in twenty minutes.”

You smile to yourself, chuckling at how amenable Lena is with you. For all that you’ve seen of her scary CEO facade, you’ve also seen so much of casual Lena Luthor - someone just as easygoing as you are.

You pity much of the world who are so set in their beliefs that she’s nothing more than the inherent evil that comes with her family name, but you’re also glad you’re one of the very few people who get to see her for who she really is - a wonderful, supremely intelligent, beautiful woman who, you’d eventually come to learn, has the very attractive ability of being able to laugh at herself.

It’s about fifteen minutes or so since you got Lena’s text message when the chit printer hums to life and notifies you of an order. You see that an order has been placed under the name of L. Luthor, and you grin at the paper.

You move to make the pizza and when you’re finished the order, you yell into the direction of the office - you don’t actually know where your boss went off to.

“Thomas, I’m taking my thirty!”

A muffled voice replies back from his office, “Go wild, kid.”

You don’t bother to wait for the morning server, Tarah, to come in to take the food, instead opting to wipe your hand quickly on the rag you’ve stuck in your back pocket before you’re moving into the dining area with the pizza in hand.

You see Lena sitting at a table closest to the wall, the elevated portion of the dining room faces the small music stage cozily. She smiles when she sees you make your way to her and she stands up to meet you.

You put the pizza down on the table and hesitate in front of her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling,” she takes quick note of your reluctance to touch her with your messy work clothes but she takes you in a hug anyway, smiling as you let yourself into her embrace.

“Must be a great day if you don’t care about flour getting all over you,” you smile when you see her fond exasperation.

“Do you really believe I’d come all this way to see your lovely face and not get my hug from you?”

You hum in contemplation. “Why, Miss Luthor, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve missed me.”

She smiles, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. “A most bold assumption, but not entirely untrue.”

You both sit down and you lean back into your chair.

“Well, for what it’s worth you didn’t have to order my favourite, you could have just gotten what you wanted,” you say, eyeing the food quizzically.

“Oh, it’s fine, I wouldn’t finish it anyway. If I understand correctly, this is your break too. It’s only fair since you’re using it to spend it with me.”

“Lena, not everything is a business deal. I like spending time with you. I love that you come to visit me whenever I whine about being bored, and I absolutely love this pizza.”

You grab a slice and barely managed to drop it onto your plate, seeming to forget that a hot pizza means it just came out of the oven. You shake out your hand and blow on it to ease the slight burn on your fingers.

Lena smiles softly at your words, her eyes crinkle with amusement at your clumsiness.

“My compliments to the chef,” she says cheekily.

“Thank you,” you reply after a bite of pizza, not caring about the burn you’ll get on the roof of your mouth.

“So, (Y/N), how has your life been lately? Spare no details.”

“In the last few hours since we texted this morning? Nothing particularly exciting, I wasn’t kidding about the utter normalcy on my end.”

“Ah, well, simplicity is desirable isn’t it?” She tilts her head at you in question.

“Oh, yeah, I’m really not complaining. Life’s great as it is. I like where I’m at. I’ve got enough money to do what I want, a job that lets me get away with all the tattoos and piercings I could possibly want, my sisters are awesome, I’m sharing a pizza with Lena Luthor,” you grin as you take note of her raised eyebrow and the smirk she’s giving you.

“You love bugging me, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m not entirely joking.” Suddenly, you remember the conversation you had earlier with your boss.

“Right, I forgot! Thomas said the usual act that plays here, apparently their guitarist is out of commission. So I get to play with them for a few nights, I’ll get my usual wage and some band money on the side for it too!”

“That’s so exciting! I would love to see you play, I know you’ve mentioned often how much you miss playing the guitar. Would you be getting your own fixed at some point then?”

You smile at her enthusiasm. You feel the slight dip in your chest and have no time to ponder the new level of excitement you feel at Lena watching you on stage.

“Uh, yeah- yes! Yes, that would actually be so awesome, I’d love it if you came, if you had the time, of course. I know L-Corp gets really busy sometimes so if it’s really late, you don’t need to worry about-”

“(Y/N),” she interrupts your rambling. She’s pointed out in the past how very much like Kara you are in that aspect, something she’s never failed to mention how adorable it is. “I will make time for you, if you would like me there.”

“You know I would love you there.”

“So, it’s settled. Just give me the time and I’ll be there, front row cheering and all.”

She winks at you and your eyes widen slightly as you feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You hope she doesn’t notice the sudden gulp you have to take for your suddenly dry throat.

“Uh- also,” you say hoarsely, and you cringe at your failing voice. You clear your throat hastily before you continue.

“Also, tonight, the superfriends are going out for drinks. You should come with, so far it’d just be us, Kara, Alex is bringing Maggie I think, and Winn will be there too. We won’t actually be out too late this time, if that makes a difference for you.”

She tilts her head in question, regarding you in silence. You begin to feel slightly uneasy after a few moments without an answer before she smiles softly at you.

“Would the others be okay with that?”

You stare dumbly at her, blinking several times as if to process whether she was joking or not.

“Of course they would, why wouldn’t they?”

Lena hums in answer and takes a sip of her water. You lean across the table to grab her hand, feeling the softness of it under your slightly calloused hands and you’re pleased when she doesn’t move away.

“Lena, they would be delighted if you were there. If you aren’t comfortable, I totally understand, and we can have a rain check for whenever you’d like-”

“Thank you, (Y/N).” She smiles earnestly at you and flips her hand in yours, intertwining her fingers with yours. “I’d love to join you tonight.”

“Excellent.” Your eyes light up in excitement. “Can’t wait to see how soon you’ll get sick of me with all these plans of ours.”

Her expression shifts in admonition, “I don’t think I could get sick of you.”

“Don’t challenge the gods like that, Luthor.”

She laughs at your dramatics and moves to leave. “I suppose I’ll let you go now, I’m sure your boss is wondering where you’ve gone off to.”

“No way, he really doesn’t care, plus he loves me too much. He’s probably doing important things anyway.” You make an exaggerated gesture of smoking an invisible blunt.

“Oh, of course.” Lena replies in sage understanding. “Alright, darling. It is always such a pleasure to see you. Thank you for this.”

You stand up to hug Lena and you sigh contently at the feel of her in your arms. She pulls away and kisses you on the cheek, gathers her belongings and leaves you reeling at the touch.

You barely manage to wave goodbye to her when she’s walking out the door, and you smile at her newly developed habit. It’s only recently she’d started doing that - kissing you on the cheek - and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it if your reaction is anything to go by.

You finish the last few hours of your shift and wait in anticipation for the night’s activities. Kara comes home just half an hour after you and even without her super speed, the way she rushes into the apartment, drops her belongings at the door, and flops dramatically onto the couch face first all in one motion tells you enough about her day.

“Aliens or asshole people?”

“Being a total jerk is a universal problem, apparently.”

You smile at her evaluation. “Such is the greatest downfall of the galaxy! And as someone who’s been to twelve different planets, you mean that literally.”

She grins at your parroted words - she’d said the same exact thing about chocolate pecan pie being the best dessert ever last Thanksgiving.

“You always were the smarter one.”

You sigh extravagantly and wave your arm in a flourish meant to whack her. “Oh, dear sister, you flatter me so!”

You both laugh at your theatrics and Kara moves to rest her head in your lap. You’ve turned the TV on to something that isn’t the news and she sighs happily; you’d never admit it but your sister always made you so soft whenever she did this, and you loved it when she did.

“Thomas is letting me play for the band at work and he’s paying me double for it.”

“Whoa! Superstar!” She looks up and grins proudly at you.

“Lena said a similar thing.”

“Oh, Lena! I got to interview her today. She looks a lot happier these days.”

“It seems that way. I managed to convince her to sneak out of work today, maybe it’s just getting slower at L-Corp and she can actually breathe again.”

Kara looks up at you again, tilts her head in consideration. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, we got to have a quick conversation during my break. She might drop by for one of the nights I’m playing the gig. And I’ve also invited her to go drinking tonight, is that cool?”

Kara looks at you with a strange smile on her face. “(Y/N), of course it’s cool,” is all she says.

You squint your eyes at her and ignore her strange look. “Sweet, thanks.”

“She’s our friend, in fact we could even say she’s family.”

“Okay, weirdo.”

You smirk at what you know is Kara’s deeply affronted look, you can practically hear the offense her expression is taking and your eyes never leave the TV screen.

You’re about forty minutes into an obscure talk show and Kara is deeply interested in the food making portion of the show when you hear the rattle of a doorknob working.

Alex walks in to the apartment and, like clockwork, Kara yells for your sister like a puppy who’s been waiting for its people to come home, and Alex just slightly cringes at the excessive volume of her welcome.

“Hello, crew,” she announces into the room.

You lift your arm lazily above your head in greeting, letting it fall back down so the impact thumps near Kara’s head. She grunts at the action and you grin at the reaction.

“Lena’s coming with us tonight,” Kara calls to Alex, who’s already rifling through the kitchen for something to eat and surprisingly, doesn’t find anything worth eating in Kara’s fully stocked fridge.

“Oh? That will be fun.”

“(Y/N) invited her. Apparently they had a nice conversation today at lunch.”

“Kara, I’m right here, I could just tell Alex myself.”

“Oh, sorry! Stealing your thunder, go ahead and tell her.”

You squint your eyes in confusion at her, only vaguely suspicious by her exceedingly bizarre behaviour.

“There’s nothing to tell, I don’t know why this is such a story.”

“Are you gonna tell Alex about your new job?” Kara supplies excitedly.

You roll your eyes at Kara but are interrupted by Alex ruffling your hair as she comes around the couch. She sits herself on top of Kara’s legs and drops unceremoniously, grinning mischievously when Kara whines at having to make room.

“So what’s this? What new job?” Alex asks when Kara finally relents.

“It’s not a job, but thank you for your helpful recollection, Kara. The boss is letting me fill in for one of the guitarists since our usual band’s dude is out for a while.”

“That’s so great, (Y/N). That’ll be awesome for you. Are we gonna make a party out of it? Want us to bring the fanfare?”

Before you can say anything, Kara butts in again. “Lena’s already invited. Apparently she’s got first dibs.”

You click your tongue at her and smack her with a pillow. You’re beginning to become aware of the space around you - or lack thereof - when Kara shifts and everybody groans in protest. The couch has always been too full of Danvers siblings, but it’s a well loved couch because of it.

“Lena does not have first dibs of anything, I just happened to tell her first.”

“Right, okay.” Alex smirks at you and Kara is giving her a look. You decide it’s best to ignore them both, dismissing it as their mysterious older sister connection.

Alex persists though. “Anything else you want to share with us? Lena’s doing great these days?”

“No, nothing else that is worth mentioning despite what you two gossip-hounds might think. Why are you both so keen about my life all of a sudden anyway? Why don’t we interrogate Alex for once? Alex, how are you and Maggie?”

“Oh? You wanna know? It’s just the best. Our sex life? You would not believe-”

“Jesus, nevermind!” You backtrack immediately and groan in protest, Kara singing some made-up song to drone out Alex’s voice. Alex talks through the noise easily and Kara keeps singing louder, you grumble and resign to wait valiantly for one of them to give up.

You hear a notification coming from your phone and move to pick it up from the table, not entirely caring whether the movement will shove Kara to the floor or not. You’re a mixture of staring in a daze and a silly smile plastered on your face when you see the message Lena has sent you.

Lena: “Your advice would be much appreciated, is 1 or 2 more suitable?”

Lena: DSC_09281.jpg

Lena: DSC_09282.jpg

You look at the message and your curiosity gets the best of you. You open up the first image and your eyes widen at the picture. Lena’s taken a mirror selfie, her pose showing off a backless black dress that falls just over her mid thigh.

When you open the second attachment, your eyes gravitate where they shouldn’t when you take in Lena’s low-cut white shirt and the tight-fitting black slacks that fit snugly to her legs.

Taking in every detail, you’ve effectively forgotten that you’re supposed to actually give an answer, and you must be quiet a long time because your sisters snap you out of your reverie.

“Hot date?” Alex’s voice cuts into your daze.

“No, I think it’s Lena,” Kara says.

You hear Alex muttering something that sounds suspiciously like same shit but you’re too focused on Lena’s new distraction and how she’s so easily rendered you useless. Somehow, you find the will to text back.

you: “You’re a marvel, Miss Luthor. I must say, I am always a sucker for a black dress but... stay casual. It’s your night out, you can forget the CEO theatrics for one night, right? ;) it could get colder later anyway, who knows what the gang could get up to tonight”

Lena: “Charming and chivalrous, how ever can you say no one has scooped you up yet? I will take your advice. Thank you, darling. See you tonight :)”

“Are you done sexting your girlfriend?” Alex asks cheekily and Kara actually admonishes her this time. Still, it doesn’t stop the blush rushing to your cheeks.

“We are definitely not sexting.”

Alex scoffs incredulously. “You sure as hell could have fooled me.”

You make a pointed effort to ignore Alex’s snickering and Kara’s amused smile.

“If you two are done, we should probably get ready soon.”

“What? It’s only 6, are you that excited?” Alex remarks, a grin still plastered on her face.

“Well, Kara here takes her sweet time getting ready when we’re going out, you know this.”

“Hey!” Kara butts in, “How am I supposed to enjoy the process if I use my super speed all the time?”

“The process of singing your obnoxious 2000s era pop music while we wait for you to hurry up? The kid’s actually right for once, Kara.” Alex retorts.

You drum your hands on Kara’s arm and Alex stands up to free Kara from her captivity on the couch. She slowly slides off of you onto the floor and you nudge her annoyingly with your foot until she starts moving.

With all the bickering and your various degrees of sassy attitudes, the three of you eventually pile out of the apartment at a reasonable hour.

Maggie and Winn are the first ones at the bar and have saved a booth with a small table. You greet your friends who have just ordered their drinks when you get a text from Lena that lets you know she’s on her way.

Still, it was as if nothing could have prepared you for when you glanced around and saw her approaching from the corner of your eye.

You’re probably caught staring for a socially unacceptable amount of time because Alex has lightly punched you in the arm, smirking as she inconspicuously drinks her beer in mock innocence.

You don’t have time to cuss her out when you feel the soft touch of a hand on your back and feel your skin light up suddenly - the entirety of your side that is touching Lena might as well have been on fire.

Lena is greeting the table easily and even high fives Winn, who’s sticking his tongue out at Alex who rolls her eyes at his nerdy tendencies.

“Hello, darling. Long time no see,” she whispers into your ear and waits for you to turn to her.

When you face her, she pauses momentarily before she kisses your cheek in greeting and you feel yourself combust again.

“Hey, Lena.” You’re relieved the music in the bar is loud enough to veil your hoarse voice. Maggie’s eyebrows are raised to her hairline. She gives a knowing look to Alex who’s watching your interaction with a smirk.

Everyone moves to settle into the table again and you can feel her sit close to you. You ponder the idea of accidentally spilling water on yourself to douse the fire that’s currently consuming you from Lena’s closeness.

“Have you all ordered already? The next one’s on my tab.”

“Uh, actually, I went ahead and got your usual for you with our order, if that’s alright. I just presumed, you can get something else if you want, it’d be my fault anyway if-”

“(Y/N),” you can hear her how deliciously your name sounds in that melodiously low voice of hers, “you’re fine. Thank you.”

She smirks at you, places a hand on your forearm that’s resting on the table. You have a suspicion Lena Luthor is going to be the death of you tonight.

The rest of the drinks come to the table and you’re all sorting yourselves out when Alex speaks up.

“So, have you all heard yet? There’s a rockstar in the family.” She announces loudly to the table, and despite the slight embarrassment you feel from her zealous enthusiasm, you know deep down she’s genuinely happy for you.

“What’s this all about?” Maggie turns to look at you.

“The bossman’s letting me play some gigs with the band. I’ll be the filler guitarist for a while at the restaurant.”

“Hey, no way! That is wicked, are we allowed to watch?” Winn asks excitedly, clutching his drink close to him since he’s sitting right beside Kara - she is notorious for her extra level of clumsiness in a close proximity setting, for whatever reason.

“Lena’s already got front row and VIP, backstage too.” Alex remarks, and you know she’s on a mission to push your buttons from the mischief that’s evident in her eyes.

Lena merely smiles at the group, raises her drink, “I’ll cheers to that.”

Everyone whoops and hollers noisily, Kara and Winn banging their hands on the table as Alex takes a swig of her beer, Maggie leaning in to say something to her.

“Remember me when you become famous,” Lena winks at you.

“Of course, we could give the tabloids something to talk about all the time.” Your eyes widen dramatically, and you smile at her laughter.

The better part of the night is spent in an increasingly buzzed haze. The conversation between the group flows steadily and at some point, Kara has convinced Winn to dance with her and you’re nearly in hysterics when you catch his pained expression.

Maggie and Lena are standing near the bar and have fallen into an engaging discussion, apparently regarding some sci-fi TV show called Dark Matter, if you recall correctly.

You feel Alex slip into the seat beside you.

“I’m tired,” is all she says.

“Oh, did you wanna go now? Were you going to leave with Maggie or something? We could-”

“Of watching you and Lena tiptoeing around the large elephant in this room that is so aptly called why are you two not dating yet.”

You stare dumbfounded at her. “Why would I do that?”

Alex gives you a look that very clearly says, are you kidding me?, and she doesn’t need to say anything for you to get it. Despite that, she presses on.

“Okay, you know what, that’s fair, if you’re not into her like that I don’t want to pressure you. I’m just saying if you’re feeling it, you have nothing to lose, in my eyes.”

“I like Lena, and I love spending time with her, and seeing her makes my day all the time. She’s a really great friend and such an incredible person, and I really think I see a lot of her that nobody else gets to see. But I don’t really know if she’d be into that and I don’t want to ruin what we have going on by making her uncomfortable with whatever feelings I think I have-”

“(Y/N), are you serious?”

You look at your sister and realize there’s a telling lack of ulterior motive in her expression. She’s being serious, and that makes you pay attention.

She sighs deeply, dramatically throws an arm over your shoulder when your silence answers for itself.

“I can’t believe it, I think I’ve failed you as a sister. This is such a sad moment in my life.” She brings you in close to her so you can hear her clearly.

“Alright, here are the facts, these are actual things that have occurred and I’m not making them up. These are things that you know, but are also things you don’t actually know if you really do believe Lena wouldn’t be more than okay if you asked her out. She kisses you on the cheek-”

“She does that all the time.”

“With you, yes.”

You have no rebuttal to that.

“She always makes time to see you.”

“She sees Kara too...”

“For work, idiot. Even then Kara has to go to her.”

“What if I just happen to get her whenever she’s free?”

“She’s free all the time for you, kid. That’s the point. She’ll make time for you.”

You can’t seem to argue with that fact. You’re considering Alex’s observations when Kara slides up to your other side, seemingly out of nowhere and already cognizant of the conversation you’re having with Alex.

“You know, Lena asks about you all the time during our interviews.”

You nearly choke on your own breath when you hear her voice close to your ear - you swear she’s some sort of ninja sometimes, and she’s going to scare you to near death one of these days.

“See, Kara wouldn’t lie to you,” Alex nods her exaggeratedly.

“She has this faraway look in her eyes too. She loves hearing about all the things we’d get up to as kids. Oh, like just a few days ago I told her the one time about you and the peanut butter incident when you were eight-”

“Kara!” You interrupt her rambling, the only thing you got from her rambling comment was that she’s brought up the peanut butter incident with Lena, and you’re just a little bit mortified.

Kara continues anyway, and it’s becoming apparent that neither of your sisters can be stopped tonight.

“She always brings you up somehow, it’s so cute,” her nose scrunches in delight. “It’s like you’re constantly on her mind, the way you always manage to get into our conversations.”

Alex adds on to the tail end of Kara’s comment, “just look at the way she acts around you as opposed to when she’s with Maggie or Winn for example. She’s different with you. You talk often and you’ve become some comfortable part of each other’s lives. You’re both pretty much already there, just without the label.”

You’ve been listening carefully to Alex and Kara’s admissions. You consider their words and think back in retrospect, looking for any hints in your interactions with Lena that your sisters could be right - you know deep down that they are, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less apprehensive.

“Just think about it, think about taking the risk that’s pretty much already a win. We’re your big sisters, we know these things,” Alex smirks confidently and pats you roughly on the shoulder, taking her arm away to reach for her drink.

Then, she adds as an afterthought, “But really, no matter how much we bug you, that doesn’t mean we’re out to actually hurt you. I think if I, and even Kara can see that you and Lena getting together doesn’t have to stay some pointless dream, there’s some basis in what we’re telling you. I think you don’t need to worry about Lena’s feelings in this, kiddo.”

Just then, your gaze wanders to Lena and she looks up and catches your eye. She smiles softly at you and focuses her attention back to Maggie.

Alex effectively destroys the last lingering moments of the emotional intimacy that’s been shared in your impromptu sibling bonding, true to her trademark way, “I really can’t believe that you can’t see Lena having the biggest ladycrush on you.”

“Ask her to watch a movie, I think she’d like that,” Kara adds encouragingly.

You decide to take her word on the entire matter just slightly more than you’ll take Alex’s - you know that Kara has had more deep talks with Lena and could probably give you plenty of helpful hints.

You decide then and there you’re going to do something about all your newfound information. You’ve got your intel and pretty much your sisters’ blessings, and you know if you don’t do this now, you’re probably going to wait another few months for the next wave of confidence to inspire you.

Alex is nodding her head approvingly at you and Kara’s got the biggest smile on her face, both thumbs up like a dork in her own supportive way.

Maggie turns to look at you when she sees you walk up to Lena. She winks at you and pats you on the back as she leaves, a sudden wave of who the hell else is in on the woes of my lovelife? overcomes you in that brief moment but you have no time to contemplate it.

“Hey, stranger.” Lena smiles when she sees you taking in her figure.

She’s leaning up against the bar, looking so relaxed and confident. She wore the outfit you suggested earlier and you almost forget why you walked up to her in the first place. No need to worry, however - you got this.

“Alex and Kara said we should make plans,” you blurt out.

Somewhere in your mind, you can hear the imperceptible sound of something that sounds much like a farting noise in response to your utter lack of cool - no doubt indicative of your very obvious inability to form coherent thoughts whenever Lena made you nervous, which was precisely what was occurring at this very moment. Maybe you don’t “got this”.

Lena’s lips twist into an amused smirk, she tilts her head at you in good nature. “What plans did you have in mind?”

“Things we could do together? I guess?” Your voice takes on a high pitch as your sentence trails off, your eyes widen at your rapid decline in behaving in a way that won’t scare Lena off.

“I mean, like- did you want a movie or something? To go to a movie, did you want to go to a movie, and watch one? At my place? Or yours? It’s all up to you, if you’re even interested at all-”

You shut yourself up when Lena comes up close to you, nearly chest to chest as you watch her gaze trail from your eyes to your lips, and then back again. Your hand is clenched into a fist on the bar - you can’t move it now, not when Lena is standing so close and really, nothing but your clothes would be in the way-

“(Y/N),” you can feel the ghost of her breath on your lips. You inhale sharply, but somehow you still feel breathless. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah- yes! Alone? We could do things, like a date? With me?”

The tension between you and Lena is so palpable and in those few moments of silence where it’s just you two staring at each other, you can feel the vague sense of rejection only start to manifest before she speaks up.

“I would love to do things like a date, alone, with you.” She smiles and puts a hand on your other arm, running her hand gently to soothe your obvious nervousness.

You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding, jaw slightly slack with disbelief at what you’ve just accomplished.

“Oh, alright- yeah, that’s- just like that then? That’s it?”

Suddenly, she has an eyebrow raised in a slight challenge. “Is there anything else you wanted?” she asks teasingly.

The expression on your face makes her laugh, and you flush instantly when you catch the implication. You think then, maybe you should just stop talking.

In some small mercy to spare you from your embarrassment, Lena closes what’s left of the distance between you, moves her arms so they rest gently on your shoulders and brings you in easily.

Your hands find their way naturally onto her waist as she presses herself flush against you, and you feel relief at the contact you’ve been craving. She slowly pulls you in and waits to see if you want to move away. When you’re stock still and watching wide-eyed in anticipation, she brings her lips to the corner of your mouth and gives you the softest, just barely there kiss.

Some whispered “holy shit” escapes you in that momentary explosion of sensation, but you’ve lost all inhibitions to care about your pride at this very moment.

Lena laughs at your reaction, biting her lip in fond amusement when she watches your happy grin.

“I think you should know, I’ve found myself to be rather enamoured with you for quite the long while,” she says.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, I might daresay I was even beginning to grow a little impatient with you.”

“What, at me? How-”

“Shall we discuss it all over brunch? I’ve plenty of things to say about you taking your sweet time with me.”

She smiles at your stuttering protests, she’s really got you for a spin. “Would tomorrow be too soon for you?”

“No! No, not at all- brunch tomorrow, that is great, yes. All good on my end.” You’re a bit of a hasty mess right now, but you’ll worry about your lack of composure another day.

For a moment, she looks like she’s going to go back in for a kiss. You think you see her eyes flutter down to your lips, you can just feel the feather-light touch of her lips again and frankly, you crave it.

“I do think we should head back to the others, though.”

You resist every compulsion in your body to groan, and you think the sentiment is shared when Lena laughs softly. “We’ll have all the time in the world to spend with each other, darling. I promise you that.”

For all that you’ve achieved tonight and for the new, exciting turn your relationship with Lena has taken, you still feel like you’re going to burst into flames when she puts her hand on your knee under the table and keeps it there, squeezing in laughter when Maggie makes a sassy remark about Winn, rubbing it gently in the middle of Kara’s long-winded retelling of her superhero adventures.

You figure the Danvers siblings all ended up being right - Alex and Kara had great advice that paid off in the end, and you? You knew Lena Luthor would be the death of you tonight, and you realize you’ll never quite get used to her; her touches that set your skin ablaze, her easy smiles that inspired a newfound strength in you, the light feeling of flying you get whenever you look at her.

[itsallavengers]

okay so @one-piece-of-harry posted something regarding kid!Tony being brought to the future and then being scared of adult Tony bc he looks like Howard and it immediately pierced my heart directly and so I had to write and share the pain. Have fun!

It was movie night.

This was normal. Movie night came around every Thursday, and involved the whole team gathering on one single couch in order to watch the weekly movie of choice. 

They were currently on Bruce’s turn. This meant Star Trek was playing, loud and clear through the sound-system as Clint complained, Thor reveled and Natasha called for more food.

This was normal. So Tony sighed, and then rolled off Steve’s lap in order to go on the popcorn round. “Two minutes,” he mumbled, as he got to his feet lethargically and stumbled out into the kitchen.

Steve watched him leave, a fond smile on his face. It was well into the early hours of the morning by this point, and so everyone was pretty dead on their feet, and yet still insistent upon finishing the second film.

This was normal.

A flash of blinding light, a crack like lightning and a high-pitched yell of fear were certainly not normal, however.

In the time it had taken for light to recede, all five of them had jumped to their feet instantly, weapons procured from places not previously believed to have been possible before. Steve and Thor instantly stepped forward- the biggest and most indestructible on the team acting as a barrier for the lesser protected members. 

Guns, hammers and shields drawn, they all pointed it steadily at the source of the noise, pinpointing it instantly and with a deadly accuracy.

A little boy stared back at them; his eyes criss-crossing as he stared at the barrel of the gun pointed at his nose.

“Oh,” Steve muttered, a little dumbstruck. So dumbstruck, in fact, that it took him another few seconds to realise he was still holding up a pistol to a child.

Dropping his hand immediately, he stumbled back, eyes wide. The boy was watching them all; hadn’t even moved a muscle or shown an ounce of emotion since his initial yell. He was just...standing there. His eyes observing all of them separately, cautiously.

“Who are you?” Clint asked eventually, trying to make his voice sound as non-threatening as possible.

The little boy just kept... watching. His hands were clenched into fists, and his knees were bent a little.

 “I just moved through space and time,” he declared eventually.

It was so bizarre; so completely impossible for a child of his age to say, that Steve knew immediately afterwards. “You’re called Tony Stark, aren’t you?” He said softly, unable to help the smile that crept up his face, because now he had connected it, the similarities were impossible to ignore. 

Tiny Tony stared at him, and for a second, outright contempt flashed across his features- an emotion that should really have been far too old for a boy of that age just then. “And you’re Captain America.”

“That I am,” Steve smiled, getting on to one knee so that he was level with Tiny Tony. “Listen, I know this is probably weird for you-”

“If this is a trick, or you’re going to use me as a ransom demand, then you’re out of luck. Howard Stark doesn’t pay ransom fees,” Tiny Tony spoke over Steve, his voice robotic and dull, like he’d been made to practice the words in a mirror a hundred times over.

“Not even for his own child?” Thor blurted in his usual booming manner- and for the first time since he’d landed there, Tiny Tony flinched.

Everyone noticed, despite Tiny Tony’s worryingly smooth transition back into neutrality. Thor look horrified, and took a step forward, hand outstretched, but Tiny Tony just reeled back from it. “Not even for his own child,” the boy snapped.

Steve stared, open-mouthed. That... that had been an awfully strong response.

“How old are you, Tony?” Bruce moved on effortlessly, stepping past Natasha and Clint in order to get to the little boy stood in front of them.

“Tell me who you are, first,” Tiny Tony argued, stepping back once again, “Prove to me that you are who you say you are, and that I have fallen what looks to be half a century into the future, rather than just kidnapped by a group of phonies.”

“See the mouth on him wasn’t a recent development, then,” Clint said, amused. 

“I save it especially for stupid people,” Tiny Tony retorted, and Steve bit back a laugh as clint gasped in offence and Natasha just nodded like that wasn’t any different from the Tony they knew now.

Bruce stepped forward again, undoubtedly ready to start explaining to Tiny Tony what had happened (Loki, probably- the room smelt faintly like his particular brand of magic), when there was a clatter of bowls and faint swearing from the other side of the room.

“Next time, I swear I’ll just invent a server bot to grab all this shit for me, I don’t have enough hands to carry the amount of food your fat asses require-”

Adult Tony stopped dead, looking at the circle of people stood around the tinier version of himself. The bowl of popcorn slipped out of the crook of his elbow entirely.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, hand going up and gesturing at Tiny Tony in greeting, before realising that the boy had... gone. He frowned, raising his eyes and looking around until spotting Tiny Tony again, this time a good few feet away from where he had been at the beginning.

What put Steve on edge, however, was the look on his face.

All that unnerving neutrality had vanished, and the tiny little boy had taken a full turn- eyes wide, face pale and hands visibly shaking as they fixed on Tony’s face. He continued to back away until his back hit the glass wall and he ran out of any more room.

“I didn’t know,” Tiny Tony blurted suddenly, looking in horror at Tony and shaking his head vigorously, “I din’t know you were doing an experiment, I thought someone had tried to take me again, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t know,” he turned to Clint, lip wobbling, “I’m sorry I was rude, Mr, I thought you were a bad guy-”

“Hey hey hey, Tony, calm down, it’s okay,” Steve frowned, taking a step forward in an attempt to reach out to Tiny Tony, only to watch in shock as the boy jerked to the other side, eyes searching for an exit.

“I didn’t... I’m sorry, please don’t be mad,I swear I wasn’t trying to interrupt or anything,” he whispered to Adult Tony again, and his eyes were actually fucking tearing up, Steve had no idea what was going on, none of them did, things had just spiraled out of control so quickly-

“I’m not Howard,” Steve’s Tony called out across the room. He was quiet- uncharacteristically so, and looking at the young boy with something Steve couldn’t read. “I’m not Howard,” he said again, stronger this time.

(Read more, mobile users!)

 Everyone turned, looking at Tony curiously as he faced off with his younger self. Neither of the versions had moved a single muscle; both staring intently at one another, undoubtedly running numbers in their heads as they calculated probabilities. Steve could see it in their eyes; the tiny squint that his own Tony pulled when he was working something out was mirrored almost exactly on his younger version’s face. It was sort of incredible, the things Tony could deduce from simple observations. Hell, even at whatever age this kid was, he’d still managed to work out what had happened to him in the space of seconds.

“You’re... you’re not?” Tiny Tony asked, smaller and scared than he had been even when the gun had been pointed directly between his eyes, and it felt like someone was slamming a cement block against his chest at that thought; the fact that Tony was more scared of his own fucking dad than a loaded gun-

“I’m not,” Adult Tony shook his head, swallowing audibly and then glancing around the room, noting awkwardly how everyone was staring at him with varying degrees of horror. Steve  himself was pretty sure he was about to throw up. Or faint. Or both.

Howard. Howard had induced that reaction. Upon a fucking child.

“Steve,” adult Tony said quietly, shooting him a look that meant I know exactly what you’re thinking, “not now. I think... I think I’m gonna need a little one on one conversation with Tony Stark The Prequel-”

“Don’t you think it be better if we stay?” Thor asked gravely, making sure to keep his voice lower, gentler than he had before, “I sense Loki’s presence, and leaving you two unattended may mean trouble.”

Tony had a look of someone who was chewing gravel as he said “he won’t talk around you. Uhh- definitely not...not you, Steve. You’re gonna have to go, at the very least,” he said, not looking Steve in the eye as he spoke.

Steve paused. Frowned. Then opened his mouth. But Tiny Tony spoke up first.

“Is that really Captain America? Are you two friends now?” he asked Adult Tony, and it was a fierce, accusing tone that had his older version sighing and running a hand through his hair, telling the kid to leave it, I’ll explain later okay, but his tiny counterpart was apparently having none of it, stepping forward and turning to point a finger up at Steve. 

“You’re not a hero. My dad isn’t around to tell me otherwise, so I can say it,” the small little boy begin, so much fight in his frame now, so much boiling rage for such a tiny little kid. “You’re not a hero.  At least I’m smart through natural ability. You’ll never be able to take that away from me. You’re... you’re just a lab rat. Everything special about you came out of a bottle. Fucker,” he hissed, tagging on the curse at the end for good measure. 

Steve’s jaw dropped, and there was a collective gasp that flew around the room; every Avenger experiencing the same sense of deja vu as the words settled in the forefronts of their minds.

The little boy’s eyes widened for a moment, as if waiting for someone to react, but when nothing happened, he opened his mouth again, seemingly unfinished.

“That’s enough!” Tony cut in before his younger self could even begin, looking down at himself in anger. “That is enough, kid. Look, guys, really, I think it’s better if you leave us two to have a quick chat in private, he’s not... believe me, he’s not gonna be very cooperative with you around.”

It seemed like the last bit was directed solely at Steve, and he looked over to him with pleading eyes, begging him not to ask questions, to just listen to him and go.

Steve exhaled a little. Allowed the words to sit deep in his stomach and settle there like a thick coating of grime. Then he nodded and walked out of the living room.

“So that’s six-year-old me,” was what Tony entered their room with; dropping down wearily next to Steve on the tiny sofa and then sagging, head rested in Steve’s shoulder as he sighed. “As you could probably have realised, I had some issues back then. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“That’s not what bothers me, Tony,” Steve said quietly, putting down his book. He still felt shaken by the whole ordeal- the sense of nausea had yet to leave him. “ I pointed a god damn gun at him and he didn’t flinch. But the moment he thinks Howard is involved, and suddenly it’s like he’s terrified? God, Tony, that’s-”

“Really not a big deal, like I said, I was a weird kid- by that age I’d already been kidnapped for ransom, and so it was like, I wasn’t really afraid of guns, because I’d been brought up around them, and if it was a ransom again then they would have no motive to just shoot me? I was usually kind of  a big baby back then, which was why I got to freaked out by- well, myself, I guess-”

“No,” Steve cut him off, shaking his head and turning around, looking at Tony properly, sadly, “you were not scared of a gun, but you were scared of someone who looked like your father. That’s... Jesus, I used to-” Steve stopped, horrified, “I used to talk about him to you, Tony, I used to use him as a comparison to you,” he hissed, dropping his head into his hands and shaking, biting his lip and trying to stop himself from doing something stupid like make Tony build a time machine so he could kick Howard through a fucking wall.

Tony grabbed his hands immediately, shaking his head. “Hey, enough of that bullshit. You only said that when we didn’t know one another, and you had no idea about my...less than perfect relationship with him. I was just as much of an ass to you as you were to me, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine!” Steve whispered, horrified. “You think for a second that this is fine? Tony- you’d been practicing what you were going to say to me decades before you even met me! How much... what did he do to you to make you hate me that much-”

“I never hated you,” Tony shook his head vehemently, “I was... a complicated child. You know me- crazy smart, kinda meant I had a mental capacity that was years ahead of kids my age. I saw things in... two senses. Innocent naive kid who adored Captain America and was convinced he’d come around to save me one day- and then the bitter older guy, who hated you for... well, for being the person I was never going to be. For being the guy Howard always cared about more. Like I said,” Tony shrugged, “I was a problem child.”

Steve was silent, eyes shut and trying to imagine Tony- as young as that, as scared as that- being screamed at, being told he was never going to be strong like Captain America, or good like Captain America.

No wonder the little kid had yelled at him. No wonder Tony had been less than welcoming of him even as an adult. Those sorts of things stuck with you.

“It’s okay, Steve,” Tony said quietly, kissing the palm of his hand softly. “My dad was a prick, and he was wrong. He’s also dead now, so really- out of the picture.”

Steve looked at him. Looked at the older version, with laugh-lines and specks of grey at his temples and a hole in his chest. Howard would still probably have been disappointed. Howard had shit for brains, though, so who the fuck cared?

When Tony pulled him in, Steve followed, a heavy sigh on his lips as he clasped his lover tightly and tried not to imagine all the years he must have spent bitter and hating the mantle Steve owned.

“I’m working on a way to reverse the spell, and I got JARVIS running the logistics overnight. He should be back in his rightful place by tomorrow evening,” Tony said softly, his fingers brushing soothing lines across Steve’s back, and it was stupid really- Steve should have been the one comforting him, not the other way around, damn it.

“It’s late,” Steve said eventually, pulling away and stroking a hand through Tony’s hair, “or early. Whatever. Let’s go get some sleep. Where’s the Tiny one?”

Tony chuckled at his terminology, but gestured off in the general direction of the left. “He’s in the guest room next to Bruce. The kid took a shine to him when he came to do some tests. The guy’s soft- I think that’s what he- I- needed,” he explained, as Steve pulled him up and directed him around to his side of the bed.

Steve hummed in acknowledgement, suddenly aware of how tired he was once his ass had touched the deliciously soft mattress. Tony too, seemed exhausted; no doubt he’d gone back to work ever since Tiny Tony had shown up, which meant he was probably on a good 36 hours of no rest at this point.

Stretching out an arm and pulling him in, Steve held tight and buried his nose into the soft curls of Tony’s hair. “If I had a time machine that I could only use once, I’d go back and beat his ass,” he said adamantly, an arm curling protectively around Tony’s waist. Honestly- thinking too deeply about what must have happened in Tony’s childhood to make him afraid of people who simply looked similar to his father just made him want to both throw up and punch a wall simultaneously, so he held off on the dark thoughts and focused on Tony, safe and warm next to him. Where he belonged.

“I seriously doubt that would be what you used your one time-travelling opportunity on,” Tony mumbled into his chest, patting out a rhythm against his stomach with feather-light fingertips.

Steve huffed, already feeling sleep begin to overtake him. “ ‘S’true. Anyone who hurts you gets a Captain America assbeating.”

Tony laughed, soft and delicate on his skin. “Sounds nice. I’ll relay the message back to my younger, generally more angsty version. I’m sure he’ll be very touched. Now go to sleep, Rogers, it’s 5 in the god damn morning.”

Steve sighed again, but ultimately gave in to Tony’s instructions mere seconds later, letting sleep pull him in and envelop him with dreams of scared little boys and poisoned legacies.

When Steve awoke the next morning, Tony wasn’t there.

Figuring he’d probably just gone down to check on the results of JARVIS’s work, Steve sat up, pulling himself out of bed and heading to the kitchen. It was a warm summer day, and light streamed in through all the many windows of the tower, lighting it up beautifully.

As Steve ambled through the corridors, he started to hear the first sounds drifting to meet him. Voices, filled with laughter and amusement, coming from the kitchen. Steve noticed in particular, one high-pitched yell of delight, mixed in with the low booming laughter that undoubtedly belonged to the Thunder God.

Warily, he stepped through and took in the scene before him. The whole team sans Bruce were gathered around the table, most of them rolling their eyes fondly as they watched Thor run around, Tiny Tony jolting up and own on his shoulders. He was wearing a beam on his face so massive it had to have hurt, and Steve smiled along with him, just happy that he’d found something other than fear or indifference on the little boy’s face.

Tony- adult Tony, that is- was cooking at the stove, and Steve dipped down to kiss his temple in greeting as he always did. “Good morning,” he said quietly, sneaking a pair of fingers down and picking up a streak of bacon before Tony could smack him away.

“Wait- did Captain America just kiss him?” Came Tiny Tony’s voice, cutting through the chatter.“Am I... no way, is Captain America my boyfriend in the future?”

Steve stopped, eyes wide as he turned, not knowing what the hell to say to this kid, who obviously had a lot of deep-set issues with the simple idea of him.

However, Tiny Tony wasn’t looking particularly angry, or hateful like he had the night before. Instead he was staring at Steve in what looked like... awe?

“Wow. You must have done something real good to make me forgive you,” he said solemnly.

Thor took him off his shoulders and placed him back on the ground with a pat on the head, and Tiny Tony walked forward a few almost nervous steps. “I... I’m sorry for what I said last night. I didn’t mean it,” he said quietly, cheeks flushing a shade of pink that was quite honestly adorable. “You’re actually pretty great. I was just mad.”

“See what I mean? Problem child- never could make up my damn mind,” Adult Tony muttered from behind him, but Steve gave him a flick on the back of his head, and after a huff of annoyance, he kept his mouth shut.

“I understand why you said those things. But whatever your dad says about me-” Steve dropped to his knees, leaning in conspiratorially and gesturing for Tiny Tony to do the same, “-he doesn’t know fuck all. I ain’t never been perfect.”

Tiny Tony’s eyes were wide in horrified delight as he looked up at Steve. “You just swore!”

Steve nodded solemnly. “I swore, and I lied, and I used to steal things sometimes, if I got too hungry. But let me tell you- I certainly can’t do math like you can, and I’m a grown up. And when you get older, that big brain of yours means that you’re actually stronger than me sometimes.”

Tiny Tony’s eyes were as big as saucers at this point. “No way.”

“Yes way,” Steve said, shrugging as he turned around to the adult counterpart. “We still got a little while, right? Can you show him the suit?”

Tony looked up from his bacon, turning around and eyeing them both. “Am I going to get a double puppydog stare if I don’t?”

Steve looked sideways at Tiny Tony, before they both turned their saddest faces toward Adult Tony. Steve made sure to pout a little, too.

Adult Tony looked at them mutinously for a few moments before throwing up his hands. “Alright. You asked for it, so don’t get all annoyed if your hair gets ruined.”

And with that, Tony made a gesture with his hand, dropping the spatula and then beginning to climb up on the countertop. The last they saw of his face was a cocky grin, turned upside down by the fact he’d completely somersaulted off the side- and then it was gone, replaced by a red and gold mask that glowed bright blue at the eyes.

Tiny Tony’s breath was stolen right from his lungs, and indeed, the speed at which the suit had flown through the kitchen had been enough to throw his messy curls right back. “You made that?”

“Sure did,” Tony said through the faceplate, and Steve just knew he was grinning like a madman on the other side of it.

Tiny Tony looked awestruck, and he walked forward, tugging Steve by the shirtsleeve as he walked. “So that can take on Captain America? Seriously?”

“Oh yeah. I could totally kick Cap’s ass in this,” Tony said smugly.

“He thinks he can, anyway,” Steve added.

“Think? I know.”

“I’m sorry- have you seen the destructive power of my shield-”

“You’ve got your shield?” Tiny Tony asked excitedly, turning to Steve in something that could only be described as utter childish glee.

Steve grinned, nodding his head and pointing over to the living room. “Yup. Wanna watch me hurl it at something really fast?”

“Yeah!” Tiny Tony said, just as the adult version said “do not hurl your shield around in our home in an attempt to impress the child version of me.”

Steve looked him dead in the eye. “I’m totally going to hurl my shield around in our home in an attempt to impress the child version of you,” he said firmly, beginning to turn on his heel and walk out into the living room.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view) at that moment, Bruce hurried through the doors, cutting off any potential shield-hauling with brisk effectiveness. “Guys? We’ve got it. We can send him home.”

Tiny Tony looked utterly heartbroken as he stepped on to the pad. “I don’t want to go back,” he said quietly, eyes pleading as he looked toward Adult Tony.

Steve’s heart ached for the little boy- because really, who would? After seeing all this, who would want to go back to a shitty dad and a cold empty home?

Adult Tony sighed, and again, he took on the look of someone who was chewing gravel as he said “you turn out pretty good in the end, though. I think. Sort of. I mean-”

“You become a superhero, buddy,” Clint told him, patting his shoulder and shooting Tony an amused look. “One day, you’re gonna have all this awesome stuff, and you’re gonna fight next to Captain America and kick ass and be brilliant. I know it’s crap right now- but you’ll come out the other side. Just hold on to this, okay? Remember this.”

“But I wont!” Tiny Tony wailed miserably. “I won’t remember any of this, and I’ll never be able to tell my dad that Captain America swore and lied and stole stuff, or that I become a superhero-”

“But you’re always gonna know one thing, kiddo,” Adult Tony said, turning around and getting to one knee, grabbing his younger self by the shoulder and gripping tight, his face utterly earnest. “You’re always gonna know you’ll turn out better than him. You don’t have to remember this to know that. Dad’s a piece of shit. We’re not.”

Tiny Tony stared at him, biting his lip worriedly before nodding a little. “Yeah. I know that. I think.”

Adult Tony shut his eyes briefly, before muttering something that sounded like ‘oh what the hell’, and tugging TIny Tony forward, pulling his little body into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay, kid. I promise.”

Tiny Tony sniffed, and wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “I know. If I turn out anything like you, then it has to be, right?”

Stepping out of the hug and stationing himself back on the platform, he nodded over to Bruce, who, with one last smile and wave to the child, pressed down on the lever.

With a flash exactly the same as the one the night before, Tiny Tony disappeared, leaving only a faint smell of magic and an open-mouthed grownup Tony Stark in his wake.

Tony stayed where he was for a good long time. “He just... he wanted to be... like me?“

Natasha laughed. “Tony. He is you.”

“Yeah, but-” Tony broke off, shrugging and blushing a little, the same shade of pink that had shown through as a child, “I just... never expected to...well-”

“Like yourself?” Clint suggested, and then ducked when Tony threw the nearest object (spanner) in his direction.

“I’m pretty sure he loves how he’s gonna turn out,” Steve said, dropping down beside Tony and pulling him into a hug. “Anyone would.”

Tony opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat, and he simply shrugged as casually as he could manage, before leaning into Steve a little more. “that was... a lot. I think I need to have a nap. Possibly for a few months.”

“Do I get to join you?” Steve asked, carding his fingers through Tony’s hair again.

Tony pulled a face. “Of course. You think I’d last more than a night in there without someone to keep me company?”

Clint pulled a face at that. “Ugh, enough. Don’t go any further. If you stop now, I can still picture you in your childhood innocence. It makes very good entertainment material, you just had the cutest smile-”

“I still do,” Tony pouted, and then hurled another object (Avengers ID he kept in his pocket) in his direction.

Clint caught it, and threw it back, flicking it with a deadly accuracy- would’ve landed right between Tony’s eyes if Steve hadn’t caught it with a glare in Clint’s direction. “I thought we agreed no headshots?”

“He headshotted me first!” Clint complained, pointing accusingly at Tony, who just shrugged.

“What can I say, I’ve got shitty aim.”

“That’s a lie and you know it, you bastard-”

“Enough!” Bruce called with an exasperated sigh. “We are not arguing at 8 in the morning. The only thing that we will be doing is finishing Star Trek, seeing as our viewing was rudely interrupted last night,” he said firmly.

“You’re looking at me like that was my fault,” Tony said, a hand on his heart.

“It was you who showed up and scared us out of our damn minds,” Natasha pointed out.

“That was Loki! You think I can magically control where he- you know what- never mind,” Tony said grumpily, a scowl on his face as he got to his feet, “I am going to go to the couch, and I am going to watch Star Trek. When you all feel like treating me a little nicer after this emotional ordeal, you can join me.”

He began his march out of the workshop, head held high until he got to the threshold and turned to look around. “Steve. You’re with me.”

Steve just sighed, and followed on. Honestly- the things he did for Starks.

[ecotone99]

[MF] The Traitors Letter

To whom it may concern,

​

I’m certain that no one will read this and that if they do it will be far into the future and make little sense to whoever reads it. That doesn’t bother me now because tomorrow it all ends for me and with no outside contact I find myself needing to speak to someone, anyone, and get it all off my chest. So to anyone who comes across this I’d just like to begin by apologizing for the atrocities I’ve committed against my fellow man and against my government.

You see I was born before the war in a simpler time and I suppose that my upbringing, what little I had at least, was to blame. I blame my upbringing but I do so without using that as an excuse. I was born in Western Kentucky in ‘94 (1994 that is) to a single mother whose obsession with booze meant that I would spend my childhood out on the streets learning everything the hard way. It could always have been worse: I could have turned to drugs or gangs instead of the computer.

Either way to make a long story short the kids I hung out with after school were what you’d call “hackers.” Not the Guy Fawkes mask wearing type (if you even get the reference) but the kids who could “root” your playstation for you and put pirated games on it. Because of them I got pretty good and computer science was my obvious profession of choice upon turning 18. Hardest four years of my life up until I got put in here but I finished it and moved out West to find work at what they called “Silicon Valley.”

I ended up working for a company whose name I’ll keep to myself (not that they’re still around anyway) and did so for six or seven years before the war. Hell I even managed to get a pretty nice house with a picket fence and everything. But when the tensions rose and war seemed inevitable everything changed.

We all knew the foreign policy of the last few administrations had been blunder after blunder but when our boys went off to war in Asia it was initially just against one nation and we had the coalition. Wasn’t long until everyone seemed to become our enemy in battle. Nations that we’d been allied with for decades they said were killing our men and the draft was imposed. That’s when it all changed. I was already older than 25 and my job was in data science so I didn’t have to go fight but I saw some of the people coming back and I was, am, just so sorry for them. That’s why I did what I did that was all. But they’re right a crime is a crime.

Anyway I started “working over” every night once the rationing began since I didn’t have much to do at home and could use the companies internet to monitor the goings on overseas. I don’t know why I guess I just like the whole “great game” world news type stuff and I also saw so many people coming back I always thought the war was ending any day. My mistake was not knowing that after the Peace Act was passed my company was one of many that were rolled into the DoD and so the whole time I was being monitored by NSA guys.

I started doing the usual info gathering stuff. I would take on of the last known battles and look for towns around it then lookup newspapers from those towns. I thought this would be all I needed to do to get news from the front and there was so little being played for us here at home. Messed up thing is I never read nothing about no battles in Iran or Japan and I even wrote programs to crawl whole regions worth of newspapers and I found plenty of battles but none involving the US in either of those countries.

So I thought this has to be an error or those countries gotta be covering the war news somewhere else. Around that time I stopped being able to connect to the servers outside America and I assumed it was something the company had done so I started using a system of proxy servers to connect to the outside world. It worked at first but since I still had nothing I started looking through Cameras and microphones but after awhile I still had nothing.

So I began putting together all the information I had into a single folder and I was gonna take it to a real journalist: someone who had an idea what to even look for or who to tell. That’s when the Blackcoats got me. Roughed me up pretty good too and at that time I had no idea what I’d even done or why just that I was in trouble something bad cause they through a black potato bag or something over my face.

After the beating they through handcuffs on me and I left in a what seemed like a bus. I know there were some other people in there with me because I could hear them yelling before loud slaps shut them up. I don’t know how to describe it it was the saddest and loneliest I’ve ever felt and then a heart dropping guilt just kinda sat there in the background. After what seemed like a whole day we arrived at some facility and I was brought to a cell and the bag taken off.

I asked the guy who put me in there as he was locking the door, “hey buddy what the hell is all this for?

He just told me to stay quiet and walked away. My cell faced one of the big white brick walls so I couldn’t see anybody else but I could hear a girl next me sobbing saying to let her go. I don’t know how long she was in there but I know after 5 minutes I heard some loud footsteps and that girl didn’t cry after that. The guard brought me a nasty plate of wet food just once the whole time I was in that cell and I swear it was two whole days.

When I finally did leave they placed another bag on my head, knocked the hell out of me again, and drug me down the hall to a bright room where they took the bag off again and chained me to a large metal chair with handcuffs. In front of me was a tall blonde lady in a black dress suit and a shorter mean looking man with red hair. The man stood up over me as I sat in the chair and pulled a baton off of his side

“Name and social?,” the lady asked in a monotone voice. I told her and the man gave me an unsatisfied look as if he wanted me to tell her a lie.

“Tomorrow you are being bussed to Florence Correctional Institution where you will wait out your final sentence.,” the lady said again monotone, “If you have any questions this is your one chance to ask them.”

As the lady pulled out a pen and prepared to I guess take note of what I asked the man grabbed my hair and told me to ask quickly. I was devastated and had a million questions but the only thing I could spit out was a crying, “Why?”

The man hit me and yelled out for me to be more specific so I asked, “Why am I going to prison? What have I done?”

The Lady gave a soft sigh and put her notepad back and pen back on the table. She signaled for the man to let up on my hair and after he took a step back she began, “did you know we are at war with thirty-seven nations at this time? That hundreds of your fellow citizens are dying every day?”

“I know there’s a war,” I said, “I didn’t know who all it was against.”

“Oh?,” she immediately responded and cut me off, “you seemed to be quite the detective when it comes to the matter how did you not know?”

“I don’t even know if there is a war I didn’t see-,” the man knocked me in the stomach with the baton and my head flew forward. He grabbed me by the hair again and the bastard smacked me in the face two or three times. The lady walked up stern as the man was hitting me and rose her voice. It wasn’t monotoned anymore that’s for sure.

“This!,” she yelled as she brought her mouth right next to my ear, “is why. You are a treasoninst liar who attempts to subvert the war effort by misinformation!”

“No!,” I cried out and the man slapped me again. I didn’t let it stopped me from screaming, “No that’s not it I just wanted to know. I just saw all the men coming back and was curious why so many seemed so rough compared to the wars of my youth. I just wanted to report on the war that’s all!”

“We have war reporters and official channels,” she screamed in my ear as the man beat me for a few more seconds, “we don’t need subversive news from the likes of you.”

The both backed off of me as I cried out that I was sorry and I didn’t know. I must have swore to every god I could think of that I wouldn’t do it again: that next time I’d know better. They were having none of it and they both walked out of the room as the bag was brought over my head yet again and I was dragged out into the hallway and back to a cell.

The next day I took that bus ride with my face covered. It took us three days to get there with me being beaten every now and then and the occasional screaming off some other poor soul who had done wrong. I won’t bore you with the details of the terrible things I suffered through over the last few years since I arrived but I did want to say that if the weekly needle therapy is still around I hope you never have to go through it. Once a week for the last few years I’ve been brought to a room where I talk about the crime I committed and other crimes like it except when I do these nurses stab needles into my side and inject some kind of reverse pain medicine in me and that’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt.

Now I know it’s taken me awhile to get here but the whole reason I decided to write this was what happened yesterday. I had just came back from the daily hour I get outside the cell when the door opened and a man with a bible came in. He was the preacher see and everyone is given one last visit before you know what. He walked up and put his hand on my shoulder.

“If you wish to repent you can do it now son.,” he said in a gently voice and looked at me. You can imagine I apologized for everything I’d ever done and when I finished the preacher went on.

“I’m sure you are,” he said as he stepped back and looked up at the one small window at the top of the cell, “I know it doesn’t mean much to you now but since it’s almost over we figured we would give you the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve helped the world just a little bit.”

I looked up at him with tears in my face and said, “H-how? What do you mean?”

He gave a large smile and spoke, “The Administration has been looking for a way to rehabilitate vile prisoners in an efficient and reproducible way. You’ve been part of a test to perfect this method and I’d say are living proof that it works. Murderers, rapist and dissidents all can be churned back into productive citizens in a few years. Once the post-therapy kinks are worked out of course: but you’ll not have to worry about that.”

I was dumbfounded. Part of me wanted to scream at him but as soon as the anger came a pain hit my lower gut and a fear like that of child seeing monsters in the dark came over me. Anxiety overwhelmed me and I looked at the man, who still smiled, and with a mouthful of choking tears I cried, “G-glad I could help. So there’s no death penalty anymore? You just let people go?”

“Yes that’s correct.,” he said as he walked closer to me yet again, “well except for you and the other test subjects. You’ll understand that having people around who remember before the treatment will be a bit of a problem going forward. We can’t allow you to even unconsciously spewing such conspiracy theories as the one you were locked up for lying about.”

I did, and do, understand what the preacher meant. The state has to uphold unity in the people and I was planning to spread disinformation or at least to spread information I didn’t know was correct. I only wrote this letter for people in the future to find because they’ll wanna know how it happend. How the world became so much better as a new type of society emerged from the victor of that awful war.

Before I don’t think I would have been able to look death in the eyes without that odd guilt one gets when imagining the world without them. Today I know I leave to give a better world to the children of honorable citizens and to prevent men like me from existing. I think, though I don’t know for sure, that given the chance I’d have killed myself all those years ago even before the Lady in Black and the Red Haired man beat me. If they’d have just told me it was for the good of society.

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