#i am LOSING MY MIND at the tiny babies in the fourth photo

[onenicebugperday]

Feather millipedes in the order Platydesmida

1-2. Brachycybe producta by damarisb and kueda

3-4. Brachycybe lecontii by mhedin and sheriff_woody_pct

5-6. Gosodesmus claremontus by mhedin

7-8. Brachycybe rosea by sheriff_woody_pct and alan_rockefeller

9. Ischnocybe plicata by mhedin

10. Brachycybe picta by isaac_krone

Size reference:

Brachycybe picta by easmeds

[stephobrien]

Baby Pictures: How Endgame Should Have Ended (A canon-compatible fix fic)

This post and the fanfic within it contain MASSIVE spoilers for Avengers: Endgame, so if you’re avoiding those, please bookmark this post and come back after you’ve seen the movie. 

I've been thinking about Endgame a lot over the past few days - in particular, I've been stewing over the fact that if Bruce Banner is as smart as I am (and he’s supposed to be SMARTER), it’s COMPLETELY canon-compatible for Tony and Natasha to come back.

So if you, like me, are still periodically crying over either or both of their deaths, I just wanna say...

...and I won’t even have to put a scratch on canon’s shiny, sadistic surface to do it.

Sadly, I can’t make either of them come back for future movies, but at least I can give you an imaginary world where Bruce does what he SHOULD have done in Endgame.

So without further ado, I give you:

Baby Pictures: How Endgame Should Have Ended

It wasn’t like Bruce to miss a funeral. Not if he could help it.

Especially not if the dearly departed were two of his closest friends.

And yet, as Tony’s memorial bobbed down the river, and Clint and Steve stepped forth with bouquets in memory of Natasha, the hulking scientist who’d loved them both was nowhere to be seen.

No one knew where he was. Most were too preoccupied to ask.

But Hope van Dyne was starting to suspect. She saw the look in her father’s eyes, and she alone knew his face well enough to detect the faint smile that was fighting to pierce his somber facade.

He knew something. Yesterday, when he vanished into his laboratory for several hours, he’d been doing something.

But when she caught his eye, the shake of his head was as eloquent as it was subtle. Not yet, Hope. You’ll find out soon.

-*-*-

Mournful music played softly in the background, channeled through wireless speakers connected to the laptop Tony had given Morgan for her fifth birthday.

Pepper had had to enable the device’s wireless network access; they’d deliberately disconnected it for the sake of its vulnerable user, and she’d have to do so again afterward. But Morgan had insisted that Daddy’s last present to her be part of his funeral, and Pepper wasn’t about to deny her.

The child’s lip was trembling now, her big eyes wet with a grief she was far too young to bear. Behind her, Happy’s hoarse voice whispered in a tone he probably thought she couldn’t hear, “It should’ve been me. I was his bodyguard; it should’ve been me.”

It couldn’t have been; the magic-wielding doctor who’d approached her and Tony on that fateful day five years ago had told her so after her husband’s death. He’d scoured every possibility, and only this one led to victory.

She’d wanted to scream at him, to tell him there HAD to be another way. But this was the man who’d bought them these precious last five years, who’d given away the Time Stone to save Tony’s life, because he knew that the man she loved was the key.

She had no right to be angry at him for not giving them more.

Though a burning, vice-tight throat, she’d told him not to blame himself. His answering “I know I shouldn’t” rang almost sincere, but his eyes had been heavy with the unspoken words: “but part of me still does.”

The music hit its mournful climax, ripping the breath from her aching chest, and for the sake of the child in her arms, she struggled to hold back a sob. Keep it together, Pepper, she silently demanded. Be strong for the daughter he left behind.

“ALL YOU WOMEN WHO WANT A MAN OF THE STREET!”

The sudden scream sent a jolt thundering through her body, and she and Happy instinctively leaned forward, closing protectively around Morgan as the startling music kept howling:

“BUT YOU DON'T KNOW WHICH WAY YOU WANT TO TURN

“JUST KEEP A COMING AND PUT YOUR HAND OUT TO ME

“'CAUSE I'M THE ONE WHO'S GONNA MAKE YOU BURN!”

The hissing roar of thrusters yanked her attention to the sky, and as two shapes plunged from the sky, Pepper’s eyes and mouth went wide.

This can’t be.

They struck the ground in unison: a huge green man with a platinum-blonde woman in his arms, and a red-and-gold mechanical shell that was too familiar to be real.

For a moment, Pepper’s world froze, hope and denial colliding with a force that brought everything else to a halt.

Then the armor shrank away, nanites returning to their case and revealing the man underneath.

Dark hair. Brown eyes, blinking owlishly in the light. A smile that was slightly disoriented, but happy and wide.

And below that, a quantum suit that matched the ones worn by the Hulk and-

“NATASHA?!”

It was only when Clint’s shout rang across the gathering that Pepper realized the music had been cut. The archer lunged toward the newcomers, stumbling to a halt as he stared at the woman who was disembarking Bruce’s arms.

“And… Tony?!”

“Yup, I’m here too. Thanks for noticing. So, this is what the future looks like!”

The future? For a moment, Pepper could only stare, her grief-clouded mind struggling to understand how this could be real.

And then it clicked.

The quantum suits. Bruce’s absence. The way Tony’s eyes had skimmed across Morgan like he didn’t even recognize her.

Bruce told me he couldn’t change the past. As long as the Infinity Stones exist, they keep the timeline in one coherent flow, so what’s happened always will have happened.

That’s why Gamora was able to come to the future without changing the past, even though she was sacrificed to the Soul Stone. Her, and Natasha, and Thanos, and…

“Tony?”

She’d meant for her voice to sound stronger. It wasn’t supposed to break, or to be drowned out by Morgan’s scream of “DADDY!”

But he was here, and smiling, and alive, and the way his eyes softened when he saw her was so damn familiar…

“Pepper.” His voice was quiet, and the nervous apology in his face did not belong there. “Baby, I’m sorry – I told you no more surprises, and then-”

“You idiot.” Her voice came out halfway between a laugh and a sob, and her feet finally dislodged from the ground to which they’d been frozen. Even as the child in her arms began to squirm, Pepper rushed into her husband’s waiting embrace, pressing herself and her daughter against his chest. “This is the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I do aim to please. Though granted, I frequently miss.”

A few feet away, a small “Oof!” sounded as Clint scooped Natasha into a crushing hug, and Morgan grinned as she wrestled her arms out from between her parents so she could hug her father properly.

“I’m glad you’re back, Daddy.”

“I’m glad to be back,” he answered warmly. “Not that I remember being gone, time shenanigans being what they are. And you must be Morgan.”

“Must be?” Confusion swept across the child’s face, and Pepper’s stomach sank. “What do you mean? Don’t you remember me?”

“Uh…” The answering voice belonged to Bruce, who drew Morgan’s attention by gently settling his ponderous hand on her tiny shoulder. “I’m sorry, kid; I had to get a version of him from before the Infinity Stones were destroyed. If I took him after that, the Stones wouldn’t have been there to keep the timeline constant, and I could’ve caused a nasty alternate reality.”

“Yeah, I’m not the most recent model,” Tony piped up apologetically. “I’m a bit obsolete, and missing a few features – like my memories of the last five years – so I might need a bit of time to get updated.”

“We’ve got my baby photos,” Morgan offered. “And my videos, like the one you took on my fourth birthday, when I threw handfuls of cake and you blew them up with your suit.”

“Wow.” A small laugh burst from Tony, and his eyes danced. “You really must be my daughter. I can’t wait to get to know you again.”

A grin lit the child’s face, and Tony pressed his family tighter against him. “I am so sorry I left you like that,” he murmured into Pepper’s hair. “I can’t imagine what you must’ve been though, losing a guy like me…”

Part of her wanted to respond with a snippy, teasing remark, but that part was drowning in tears. “It was hell,” she managed, a pained smile fighting for position with a cringe at the awful memories.

No wife should see her husband’s body empty and burned.

No mother should have to tell her five-year-old that the father she “loves three thousand” is never coming home.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” His lips were soft against her hair, and his breath was warm and real. Alive. “I will do my very best to never leave you again. At least not until we’re a hundred, and wrinkly as the Grand Canyon.”

“At LEAST not until then.” At last, a laugh began to break through the lingering echo of pain. “That should’ve been in our wedding vows.”

“Our wedding… wow. Yet another thing I managed to miss. We should have another one. I hope it’s OK that I invited Wong.”

“He was there,” Pepper pointed out, glancing at the sorcerer, who responded with a respectful nod. “Dr. Strange wasn’t, though. And neither was Peter.”

From the shadow that passed through Tony’s eyes, she suspected Bruce had told him why. “Well, that is a crying shame,” he replied softly. “A wedding without my first choice of ring bearer. Hey, Morgan, do you wanna be the flower girl?”

“Yes!”

“You know,” a new voice slid into the conversation, and they turned to see Natasha sidling up to them. “Everyone’s here in their Sunday best – think we should make the most of it?”

Tony’s eyes jumped back to Pepper, an eager echo of Natasha’s question flashing in his eyes, and the tears were finally pushed aside by a full, genuine smile. “We absolutely should.”

“All right, then! Friday, amp up the speaker on this thing. HEY, EVERYONE!” Tony’s arm rose along with his voice, and the guests all stood a little taller.

“I’d like to announce that the funeral is OVER! Of course, it was already over for me about five minutes ago. The AFTER-funeral – also known as OUR WEDDING – begins in fifteen minutes!”

Fifteen minutes. This was all happening so fast. One minute she was mourning him, now the crowd was cheering for him and Natasha, and fifteen minutes from now she was going to marry him again.

“One hour!”

All eyes turned toward Rhodey, whose face was a contrast of smiles and tears. “If you give me one hour to run to the store, I’ll get you two a cake.”

The wife and groom-to-be exchanged a glance, and now it was Pepper’s turn to shout. “The wedding begins in one hour!”

“And in the meantime… hey, Peter!”

The boy had been hovering at the edge of the group, obviously dying to hug his mentor, but too polite to intrude on the family reunion. Now Tony beckoned him closer, and Bruce stepped back to make room as Spider-man rushed forward like a puppy who hadn’t seen his owner for two whole hours.

“Mr. Stark, I can’t believe you’re alive – I mean, this is so, SO awesome – we both saw each other die – I mean, you probably don’t remember seeing me die, and that’s not the part that’s awesome, but you were dead, and now you’re not-”

And there were still dark spots on the boy’s outfit where tears had yet to dry. Pepper saw them, and she knew Tony had noticed them, too. “C’mere.”

The resurrected hero spread his arms, and Peter’s eyes went wide. “Me?”

“No, the building behind you.” As Peter craned his neck to look, Tony’s eyes rolled fondly. “Yes, you. Oof!”

Now it was Tony’s turn to get squashed as spider-enhanced arms closed around him, mashing him into the desperate hug of a child who had almost lost his third father figure in a row. “I thought we were only ever gonna get to do this twice,” the boy choked, and one of Tony’s hands left his back to gently ruin the boy’s formal hairdo.

“I do have a way of waiting until it’s almost too late, don’t I?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that-”

“I know you didn’t. But it’s true.” With a deep, shaky breath, Tony drew away, the glisten in his eyes whispering that his family’s grief and relief were starting to spread to him. “I almost lost you, didn’t I?” His gaze strayed to Pepper and Morgan. “All three of you.”

“We almost lost you,” Pepper responded, smiling through the tears that threatened to return.

“Well, I’d promise that won’t happen again, but you know how I am with promises. For now, I think it’s time to focus on what we can get back. We’ve got an hour before the wedding, and I’d like to spend it watching baby videos and getting reacquainted with my family.”

Peter took a step back, and Tony’s gaze followed him. “My WHOLE family.”

Fresh tears rose in the boy’s eyes, and his mentor smiled. “Wat’cha think, kid? Wanna come over and get to know your kinda-unofficially-adopted little sister-”

“BUT I WANTED TO BE THE BIG SISTER WHEN YOU HAD ANOTHER KID!”

“Wanna come get to know your kinda-unofficially-adopted big sister before I co-opt you as my ring bearer?”

A grin broke across Peter’s face like sunlight as he nodded, and Pepper felt herself echoing the expression alongside Tony and Morgan.

It was all so surreal, she wasn’t sure when her still-reeling mind would be able to fully accept it. Her hand settled on her husband’s shoulder, rubbing the plate of his quantum suit in a quest to convince herself that he was too solid to be an illusion, that the way he turned and smiled at her was as real as the fingers that rose to cover hers.

Her eyes strayed to Bruce, whose grin lit his face like the star on a big green Christmas tree, and she gently let Morgan out of her arms before stepping toward the giant. “Bruce,” she said quietly, her voice choked, “I can never thank you enough.”

“Hey, I owed it to him. And you. We all did.”

But still. Her hand closed around his arm, and she suddenly yanked him downward, brushing a grateful kiss on his startled cheek. Morgan gave a soft moan of “Ew!”, and Tony grinned mischievously at her before stepping toward his friend.

“I’m getting in on this.”

“Come on, Tony-”

Too late – Tony had already planted one on his other cheek, and Peter was silently backpedaling, clearly hoping to create enough distance that it wouldn’t seem impolite for him not to join in.

Pepper was tempted to corral him into it anyway, but they had less than an hour before the wedding, and time was running out.

Besides, Wanda was stepping forward, and Pepper’s heart twisted as she thought of the hard conversation Bruce was about to have.

Vision had depended on the Infinity Stone in his head. The stone couldn’t be removed from its place in the timeline, and neither could he.

Pepper had gotten her partner back, but Wanda – and far too many others – would not be so lucky.

Beside her, Tony was visibly withering, and she reached over to squeeze his hand. This time, when he turned toward her, his smile was small and pained. “We lost Vision, didn’t we?” he whispered.

Her eyes were burning again, and she forced herself to nod. Vision was Tony’s child, just as all his robots were, and he’d been the last remnant of Jarvis.

And now he was gone.

So many people and memories were gone.

But so many had come back, and she was determined to make the most of it, for whatever time they had left. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s go see some baby pictures.”

[firesoulstuff]

Oooh! You know I've gotta ask for flashbacks with a Snart ship. Either Captain Canary or Goldenvibe? (Or Goldenatom, if you feel like it... Lisa/Ray has so much potential.)

AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

SOMEONE PROMPTED ME GOLDENATOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Sorry, I just LOVE Goldenatom and all the potential they have!)

Also I am going to apologize in advance for the absolute trash that I am for 2000′s era country music. This fic is 100% based on the Chuck Wicks song Stealing Cinderella. You do not need to know the song to read this, but if you would like to listen to it here is a link.

One Hell of a Thief

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15814818

Ray Palmer is no stranger to feeling nervous.

He’s felt nervous plenty of times throughout his life. His first science fair, his first day of college, the day he officially signed the paperwork that started Palmer Tech, and a countless number of times since joining The Legends. But nothing compares to this. Of all the risks he’s taken as a Legend, of all the potentially dangerous situations he’s rushed head first into without a second thought, none of them are as frightening as this one.

Gulping down his fear he raises his fist to knock, but before he can so much as touch the door it slides open, revealing a bewildered looking Leonard Snart.

“Uh…” he stammers, unsure of how to explain his presence just outside the other man’s bedroom.

“Whatever you need Raymond, I’ll be back in a few minutes, Sara wants me help her sort out something from the last mission.” Snart explains, pushing past him so that he can move down the hall.

“But,” Ray finds himself stammering out before he can think better of it, as well as chasing the other man down the hall. “I… I kind of need to talk to you about something.”

“Is Lisa ok?” He asks, though he appears to be only mildly concerned. Lisa joined The Legends just over a year ago and the two of them have been together almost since the beginning, a relationship the older Snart sibling has made clear he isn’t thrilled about.

Ray is pretty sure it’s all just a part of his cold act; pretty sure.

That doesn’t make this any less nerve wracking.

“Yeah, Lisa, Lisa’s fine.” He stops to clear his throat, and while he’s sure his friend has noticed his unease it doesn’t stop him from waving him off.

“Then like I said, I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

With that said he turns back towards the direction of Sara’s room, and so with the nerves settling in even deeper Ray heads back for the room they just left.

He considers not going inside, he has almost never been in Snart’s room and never once without the other man present. He’s terrified of accidently touching the wrong thing or something like that, but then again he is equally afraid of looking like a fool sitting on the floor of the hall for who knows how long. So it’s with a deep breath that he enters through the still open door, his movements stiff as though he’s expecting Snart to materialize and demand to know what he is doing in his room.

The room is clean; of course, because where Lisa is more than content to allow her laundry to pool over her floor her brother doesn’t have so much as a sock littering his space. The desk is a little more overrun, but it’s organized, and his bed is neatly made.

Though, there is something on the bed.

Approaching against his better judgment, and glancing twice back over his shoulder to be sure that Snart hasn’t returned yet, Ray notices that the object is a pocket photo album, and it’s open.

The picture is of a little girl, who he soon recognizes as Lisa, and it brings a smile to his face.

She can’t be any older than three, and she’s beaming at the camera with a toothy grin that spreads all the way to her rosy cheeks, her long hair failing in tight curls along her shoulders and a cheap Cinderella dress hanging off her tiny frame.

The next picture is also of Lisa, though a little older this time, and standing next to a pink My Little Pony bike that probably could’ve fallen apart right under her. He thumbs through the album, smiling at each new picture of Lisa as it’s revealed. There are quite a few of her in pajamas, some smiling and some looking rather annoyed. There’s one where she has an empty popsicle stick in her hand and blue dye smeared all over her face.

“She really is something, isn’t she?”

Ray nearly jumps at the sound of Snart’s voice, and he turns around with every intention of apologizing profusely, but when he sees the amused smirk on the other man’s face he calms, realizing that he hasn’t overstepped.

“Yeah,” he agrees, chuckling as he thumbs through to the next page of the album and it shows him an image of his beloved girlfriend at probably the age of twenty and posing with what he can only assume is her first motorcycle. “She is quite a woman.”

He regrets the words the moment they’re out of his mouth, his eyes settling on a now very unamused Snart. He hadn’t meant the words like that, in any sort of suggestive way that is. He isn’t sure if he can recover from something like this, especially not once Snart comes into the room, pace a touch more slow and sauntering than usual.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t dare to so much as breath as his girlfriend’s older brother comes and plucks the photo album from his hands, flipping carefully through it.

“Mom liked taking pictures,” he says eventually, almost like he were discussing the weather and not the pieces of his past that he usually keeps under lock and key.

“Of course, she didn’t take any of these.”

Ray nods; he knows that, Lisa’s told him. Their mom left when she was only two, she hardly remembers her at all.

“After she left…” Snart continues, like he knows he doesn’t have to explain any of this, but he’s going to anyway, because he wants to, and suddenly Ray realizes that his friend knows exactly why it is that he’s here.

“Dear old dad went off the deep end, and got rid of most of her pictures.” He continues, and Ray listens attentively. Lisa’s already told him this before, but with it now coming from Leonard, it’s just as important that he pay attention.

“The ones he didn’t destroy were the ones that had long been stored away, they were before Lisa was born. As she got older she wanted pictures too, so she asked me to take some.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

That was all he could think as he walked into Lisa’s room with mom’s old camera. Dad will lose it if he catches them, and he’ll pay the price, but…

“Lenny!” Lisa’s impatient whine came from her room. “Come on! Take my picture!”

He had to smile at the sight of her as he rounded the corner, standing excitedly in the middle of her floor in her new Halloween costume. She’d insisted on going as Cinderella this year and she, apparently, needed it documented.

“Ok, ok,” he gave into her, like he always did and still does. “But you better smile, cause we only have enough film for one picture.”

She had given him the biggest smile she could that day, and he was trying to bring that out of her again.

“Come on Lisa,” He prompted her, picking her bike up and doing his best to get it standing on it’s own. “You can’t give up yet.”

“Can too,” she muttered, still on the ground. “It’s a dumb bike anyway.”

He frowned, she wasn’t wrong.

This was the first time dad has gone to jail since she was a baby. She’s been miserable all week and him and grandpa have tried everything to bring her out of it, including getting her a bike.

Ok, it isn’t a new bike, but they can’t exactly afford a new bike while trying to get dad out of jail.

“Come on,” he tried again, “When you’re bigger you’ll want to see a picture of the first day you tried riding a bike.

She glanced at him curiously, and he was nearly sure she would just blow him off again, but she didn’t. She got to her feet with a huff and posed for the picture.

Leonard beams as he flips through the album, remembering all the pictures he and his grandfather took of Lisa when she was little, until he finally comes across his favorite, stuck in the middle of the album, and stops Raymond from turning the page.

“Where did you learn this?” He asked, though he wasn’t sure he really wanted an answer. Lisa was only nine, it wasn’t like a boy could’ve taught her how to dance while he was away in Juvie, but it wasn’t like grandpa was exactly in walking shape much during these days, never mind dancing.

Of course, his sister only giggled at him and adjusted his hold on her waist, which for the record he had to stoop low to reach but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Rosa taught me, she takes lessons.”

Ah yes, that explained so much.

So, after accepting that his fourth grade sister had apparently learned to ballroom dance from one of her friends, he kept his mouth shut and allowed her to “correct” his form.

He wasn’t planning on going to his prom, for the record. He couldn’t have cared less about it if he tried, but Lisa wanted him to go. As soon as she found the crumpled flyer sticking out of his backpack she’d been relentlessly pestering him about going. So, here he stood in the living room, wearing grandpa’s old suit while Lisa had her best dress left over from last Easter, insistent that they look the part while she “taught” him how to dance.

He should’ve known grandpa would bring out the camera.

“I can see her doing that,” Ray chuckles after Snart finishes his story behind the picture, “Lisa spending her recess as a kid learning how to ballroom dance.”

Snart rolls his eyes, but he also laughs a genuine laugh, one Ray doesn’t think he’s ever heard before.

That’s when it sets in; that Snart really does know why he’s here, and for some reason he has decided not to kill him.

He must sense this revelation, because in a very un-Snart-like and yet still somehow extremely Snart-like fashion his friend clasps him on the shoulder and holds his gaze for a moment.

“You’ll take care of her?” He asks, and Ray nods, fully aware that his expression is nothing short of pleading but he doesn’t care.

Snart smirks at that, and then looks past him.

“I know you’re out there train wreck,” he calls, and so Ray turns around, bewildered, while the door opens and Lisa comes rushing in.

A part of him is hurt, because he had wanted the proposal to be a surprise and he had hoped he could at least get Snart’s blessing without his girlfriend finding out. But of course she found out, Leonard Snart raised her after all. Besides, he can’t really be hurt, not when he’s watching her rush her brother in a grateful hug. He has to smile, his fingers still lingering on the now discarded photo album.

“If he gives me a hard time, I can’t blame the fella.

I’m the one whose stealing Cinderella.”