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Dress Like You're Already Famous

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“Leather jackets are cool,” she insists, “And functional.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone.”

Honestly .

The thing is: Janet van Dyne knew fashion.

She’d grown up with fashion, spent more of her childhood days backstage of a runway than playing in a park. If it hadn’t been for the whole super powers thing, she’d still be there.

So when she said a leather jacket was functional and fashionable, her words were to be trusted.

Despite what Tony Stark - worst childhood friend in existence - insisted.

“Loki, settle an argument for us?”

Janet groans.

Tipping her head back to look at the third person in the club - and technically the third person at their entire school - hoping that Asgardians had some semblance of fashion sense.

He did have that whole green leather and chainmail thing going so maybe...

Loki doesn’t look amused by either of them. Though  he does pause from his dancing to glance at where she and Tony are leaning up against the bar.  

“What is it now?”

“Which one of us looks better?”

At this Loki’s eyes narrow, and Janet only barely resists the urge to primp and preen, because this whole thing is absurd . Instead she stares down at her phone in what she intended to be an aloof and disinterested manner. It is not entirely successful.

Eventually she has to look up, when Loki has hesitated for far too long.

He looks almost confused.

“Well,” she prompts. “Which is it?”

Finally he reacts. A sort of half shrug, before saying, “I don’t know. All Midgardians look the same to me.”



“Please say it louder I don’t think quite all of Midgard heard you.”

Janet sucks in a deep breath prepared to do just that. After all, this was a reason to celebrate. A beach was ten times more exciting than Tony’s hot tub had been, finally an excuse to wear her nice swimsuit - the fact that they had been able to convince Director Fury to turn this extra space into a beach well…

It was a miracle.

Something worth declaring loudly for everyone at their still nearly empty academy to hear.

Of course, she doesn’t end up getting to do so because Tony slips a hand over her mouth.


“After all that work I did sneaking beer out here. You’re not going to ruin it by drawing too much attention to us.”

She would roll her eyes, if he could see her, but since he can’t. She does the only reasonable thing left to do, and licks his hand. Causing him to release her at once.

“Janet no.”

“Janet yes!”



“Exactly how many cups of coffee have you had?”

Janet squints up at him, the vague blurry shape that she is pretty sure is supposed to be Loki. It’s vaguely green and unhappy looking which generally describes him.

One more coffee and she’s sure he’ll come in clearer.

She blinks once.

And then again.

Before tipping back the mug of coffee and chugging it.

“I’m at least eighty percent coffee now.”

She had meant to sound excited about it. Instead her voice sounds kinda weak. Drained.

Eighty percent coffee.

For a brief moment, Janet lets her eyes slip shut. Blocking out the green judgemental blur that she’s still pretty sure is Loki.

The darkness tugs at her welcoming her to sleep, it would be so easy to just pass out here in the Daily Bugle Offices -

Wait, Daily Bugle Offices.

Her eyes snap open, narrowing at the slightly clearer Loki shaped blur.

“What are you doing here? You’re not a reporter!”

Loki tsks at her.

Very mature.

“I came to make sure you hadn’t died.”

“Clearly still alive! I’m just busy being a super important and super cute reporter! On the hunt! For the truth!”

“The truth?”

“Something, I’m sure you’ve never heard of!”

Her vision is still too blurry from the lack of sleep to be sure. But Janet’s certain that Loki just rolled his eyes at her.

Still when he speaks, it’s with the same bored tone. “Obviously not dead. Shame.”

It takes her far too long, to remember to take the opportunity to mimic him, and by time she echoes “Shame,” in her own high pitch, he’s already long gone.


“I’m not sure who's more corrupt the mob boss-”


“-Or the lawyer?”

Janet sticks her tongue out at Tony in answer.

He’s just jealous, because she looks so good and gets to have a cool gun and basically is the greatest Godmother to have every existed in the history of anything.

Way cooler than him.

She shoots Loki a glance. He’s pretending to read a law textbook with a look that is mostly disinterest. It’s floating just above his lap and probably the coolest thing in the room - not counting Janet herself.

His eyes never leave his book as he speaks, “According to my research usually the most corrupt is the businessman, who happens to be friends with the mob boss-”


“-And has a lawyer on speed dial.”

“Well shit.”


“You know, I could have helped you with your costume,” Janet says. Not for the first time. As she adjusts her pirate hat. Janet pouts at her reflection as she attempts once again to get the hat to sit right - it’s tilted slightly to the left, but still looking too obvious.

She needed the right mix between classy pirate, and pirate who has had a bit too much rum.

Like a classier Jack Sparrow.

Which, wasn’t setting the bar very high.

Then again, seeing what Tony was wearing.

“I mean, boxes , really?”

“I’m going for ironic,” Tony insists.

She can’t take him seriously with the slightly squashed box on his head, it’s just sad.

“No, Loki’s going for ironic.”

She points at the only other person currently camped out in Tony’s Stark Tower bedroom. He’s staring at his phone, in a very important (or so he claims) conversation with Misty Knight, but he looks up at his name. The awful yarn wig that he’s using to mimic his brother’s hair, bobbing because he looks up so quickly.

“I’m not going for ironic.”


“Wait, what?”

“I just thought, ‘who is the biggest fool in all of Asgard’ and dressed appropriately.”


“What’s that?”

“What’s what,” Janet says, or means to say, except it hard to talk with a mouth full of pins, so it comes out more jumbled that she means to.

Tony’s in for a new suit fitting, which is normally fun, because Janet loves to make her friend into a respectable businessman. Or at least, the illusion of a respectable businessman. Nobody ever thinks respectable and Tony Stark in the same sentence unless the word not is shoved somewhere in between there.

She follows his line of sight to one of her dress forms. The one that she’s pushed into the back corner and pointedly been ignoring ever since she joined the academy.

Janet spits the pins into her hand before answering, “Ah, that.”

She was going to finish that outfit at some point.

Make her high fashion debut.

Just not… Anytime soon.

There was too much to do, too many others to make outfits for and well…

She’d just forgotten that was even a thing until this very moment.

“I’ll finish it eventually,” she insists, “Probably around the time Hawkeye finally joins us at the academy.”