Tony Stark finds himself as a de-aged Loki Odinsson's temporarily designated parental figure, through no fault of his own. Responsible superhero co-parenting doesn't just involve feeding, housing and clothing a tiny Asgardian, it involves rubber ducks, transdimensional vortexes at bathtime, fruit parties, pictures of robots that draw other robots and hoverboards (eventually), as the team keep Loki safe while they look for a solution.

The newspapers call her Iron Man. Which is kind of her own fault. She would have put tit plating on the suit, but one good smack to the sternum and all her ribs would collapse. Since the first time she’d made it she’d been very concerned about gunfire, letting the world know she was a grown fucking woman with tits to match hadn’t actually been on her mind.