Story rated T for mild swearing.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.
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Waking up every morning wasn't easy. As his alarm clock began to blare, Tony groaned, and then slammed his hand down on it and it shut off. Rolling back over, he promptly fell back to sleep, his snores echoing through his room.
He had drunk too much the night before at his own party, even though he knew of the consequences of a hangover would come back as karma. He knew he should have stopped at his fifth beer, but he had been having too much fun.
As his alarm sounded again, Tony couldn't be bothered to turn it off, instead, covering his pounding head with his pillow. It seemed like he'd be late for school again.
Oh well.
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Steve wasn't the one to dawdle in the morning. A quick rinse, a simple change of clothes, a comb of the hair, and he was ready for school. After a healthy breakfast of scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast and a glass of orange juice, he grabbed a fresh apple and be off to the bus stop. He got to school at least half-an-hour before the bell was supposed to ring so that he could go to the library to do some extra studying.
He was always the teacher's pet in every class. With outstanding grades, excellent manners, and a friendly personality, Steve was everybody's favourite person. Even the strict football coach had a soft side for him because Steve was the best quarterback the coach had seen for years.
Steve was just the ideal American Boy.
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Scrambling to find his glasses, Bruce rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen. His mom was already there, preparing a coffee for herself and a breakfast for Bruce. He thanked her and wolfed down his pancake. After taking a gulp of his chocolate milk, he pulled on his running shoes. Hurrying out the door, he had to jog to school with his ten pound backpack which was full of textbooks and notes.
When he got to school, he headed straight to the chemistry lab where he did experiments in the morning before school actually started. As usual, he was the only one in the lab. Replacing his glasses with a pair of safety goggles, Bruce began to get out his test tubes.
From outside of the lab, all anyone could hear were small explosions.
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With his shoulder-length blonde hair worthy of its own hair brand, Thor was splayed out on his king-sized bed. His broad chest rose and fell as he breathed, ruffling his light mustache hairs. He slept so soundly after a night of texting girlfriend until three o'clock in the morning and drinking coffee way too late. His unfinished homework lay on his messy desk along with piles of other overdue assignments.
Being the linebacker and co-captain of his school's football team, he had many practices and games to attend, for which he figured he was too busy to do homework. Even though the coach threatened the boys on the team that if they were failing any of their subjects, they'd get suspended from the football team.
Thor wasn't worried though.
He'd get his little brother to help him.
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At six a.m., just as the sun began to rise, Natasha was already up, kicking her punching bag in the basement. Every kick and every punch thrown met the bag with ferocity and preciseness. A few months ago, she'd broken her uncle's old punching bag. She had to pay for this one herself, so she was a bit less harsh on it.
Sweat dripped down her back and down her black camisole. Her breath came in measured pants as she beat down the bag. She realized she'd forgotten to tie up her long red hair, so she knew she'd have to take good shower afterwards. With one last punch, Natasha shouted, releasing all the frustrated feelings she had.
She knew she'd woken her uncle up, but she didn't care.
At least she wouldn't have to take her anger out on an innocent freshman again.
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Clint moaned into his pillow as bright sunlight flooded into his room. His mom had come in to wake him, but he refused to get up before seven. He knew that it was a bad habit because he took forever to gel his hair, but he didn't really care. If he was late, he was late.
As his mother ordered him to get up, or else she wouldn't make him French toast (his favourite), Clint grudgingly sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. Blearily looking around his room, his eye caught his boy scout's badge which had deemed him best shooter. Smirking to himself, he got up and padded to the washroom, grabbing his hair gel from his shelf on the way.
He had to look presentable for the girl he very-much liked.
Natasha would never let him upright flirt with her though, or she would punch him in the stomach like she did before.
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Sitting at his desk in his darkened room, Loki tapped his pen against his lip, trying to figure out his trigonometry homework. He knew that he couldn't go to his older brother, as he practically was at a grade six level in math. His parents were still fast asleep, and he didn't want to wake them. Tossing his pen onto his desk, Loki decided that he'd just go to school early and find someone to help him.
Smoothing his dark hair back, he leaned against the back of his chair and swiveled around in it like he did when he was younger. With his long legs splayed out, he forgot about his desk leg which he slammed his ankle against. Cursing, he rubbed his sore leg and got off the chair, kicking it for good measure. That caused his other foot to throb as well.
As clever as Loki truly was, he made a lot of bad and impetuous decisions.
Although, that was really the only flaw he could find in himself.