This fic is based on #1 from the list 62 Things the Avengers Are Not Allowed to Do, which is an old tumblr post. I wrote this back when the post was fresh and making its rounds, and intended to write drabbles for each number on the list. Unfortunately, I lost interest immediately and never returned to the idea. Perhaps someday. That said, this fic stands entirely on its own.


Barnes, silent as the shadow he had been for years, slipped through the double doors of the Tower's "Cafeteria for Freeloaders", and met bedlam on the other side.

He had been the last to leave the locker room, the last to lunch, but was ready to be the first one to turn tail and scram. He almost did, when a box of Pop-Tarts embedded itself into the wall a few feet away from where he stood. Though, with how close he was to being hit, he was also almost the first one to start throwing punches.

His stress management exercises (or Little Buck's Happy Calm Time, depending on whether or not you were talking to Stark) were working, however, and he was able to reign himself in before an offensive stance could be taken. He closed his eyes and took a slow breath in, releasing it as he opened them again, ready to scan the room.

The majority of the staff had hunkered down beneath the tables, watching the show or whispering into their coms and phones, depending on whether or not a view of the Event (capital E because someone would certainly title it later) was available from where they had taken cover.

And behind the serving counter were Stark, Rhodes, and Steve, all trying to soothe a frustrated Thor. Barnes couldn't count himself entirely surprised that Thor was having a hissy fit in the kitchen. If you asked him, Thor came with two settings: Strangely Normal, and Melodramatic On A Level Only Deities Can Attain.

The god rampaged through the cupboards, ripping out boxes of Pop-Tarts like guts from a disturbed robot hellbent on destroying humanity.

"WHY ONLY THE JOLLY RANCHER VARIETY?" Thor roared over Stark's laughter. (Romanoff would often insist that he giggles, but Stark continued to live in denial.)

Noting the lack of anything but small blue boxes in the ravaged cupboards, Barnes decided he really didn't want to eat Pop-Tarts for lunch.

"Tony, you did this, didn't you?" Rhodes asked. Stark didn't answer, instead he choked on the sight of Thor stuffing entire boxes into one of the microwaves. It was a rhetorical question anyway. Rhodes shook his head. "Low, man."

"Stark, now the rest of us have to eat this stuff, too," Steve pointed out in exasperation.

"If he leaves any behind," said Rhodes. "How long do you think it'll take before they catch fire in there?"

Barnes took another deep breath and strode back out the door. He and Steve, at the very least, wouldn't be eating Pop-Tarts. Not that McDonald's was much of a step up, but they could pretend.


It was the following Tuesday that Barnes finally bothered to approach the oft mentioned new cork board outside the cafeteria. Posted there, a crisp sheet of paper read:

Things the Avengers Are Not Allowed to Do

1. Tony Stark is not allowed to replace the entire contents of the cafeteria with Pop-Tarts just because Thor has declared it the 'food of the gods.'