#I will sign ndas until my hands cramp

[remotewatch]

he's active on the clock app your honor

the jd bimbo voice has my pussy making dial up internet noises

[wizkiddx]

the worst case scenario

okay so this is possibly part 1 of a v v angsty dad!tom fic!!

WARNING: the section under the cut of this is v v v dark with mentions of death and some graphic descriptions of blood etc - please please don't read if any of these things may affect you <3

the part above the cut (the keep reading bit) is completely fluffy (a bit of childbirth but not graphic) so you could read only that first bit as a stand alone if anybody wanted to

dad!tomholland x reader

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“Stop laughing at me!!!”  Y/n exclaimed in mock anger before bursting out laughing, knowing she did look pretty ridiculous. 

“I can’t help it you just…. You look like an elephant!” Tom cackled from his reclined position lying on the couch, whilst his 8 month pregnant fiancé struggled to get up from her seated position on the floor - where she had spent the last half an hour wrapping presents for her nephews birthday.

“You know a supportive soon to be father would’ve helped me up!” Replying with a scowl that didn’t last long, Y/n finally standing up took the three steps to the couch before uncerimoniously collapsing into it. 

Grinning with this absolute sparkle in his eye, Tom leant forward and slid up to Y/n to pull her into his side. His hand came to rest upon her massive bump - at this point it was almost a rule that if he were touching Y/n he also had to be touching the bump. Tom claimed it to be skin to skin contact and although Y/n were pretty sure that didn’t come into effect until after the baby was born, she wasn’t complaining either. 

“It’s a shame your stuck with me then huh?” He murmured into the top of Y/n’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head while tracing meaningless patterns on her shirt over the bump. Tom was beyond excited to become a Dad, family had always meant everything to him growing up (and now). There was nothing he wanted more , therefore, to call them a family of three - or more accurately four, not forgetting Tess of course. 

“Oh how I regret ever taking up that extra shift at the club” She mused sarcastically, enjoying how he feigned offence in return.

 The way the two had met was so incredibly cliche that it was almost painful, whenever anyone asked how they met she always winced internally. But it was their truth, Y/n had been a caddy at the golf course Tom frequented with his brothers. The nature of his ‘reputation’ meant the caddies always had to sign NDA’s to be paired with Tom’s group and the chosen few were those personally recommended by the golf course. She’d always stuck out to him, mainly because she seemed to be biting her tongue as they worked their way round the course. Caddies, also by job description, were not to speak unless spoken to; to be polite and courteous but not chatty. So, given how professioial she was, had taken some convincing for Tom to drag it out why she looked in physical pain whenever they played the 13th hole.

~~

“Look somethings on your mind I can tell! If you hate me I can arrange another caddy I just -“ He followed her march to back from the hole toward the little buggy, ahead of his brothers and Dad who were making small talk from behind.

“FINE! Okay fine.” Reaching the end of her tether, Y/n snapped, whipping her body round to face him. “It’s your grip! On this hole especially you always play the driver with you pinky too far down the shaft, it’s why you always end up in the bunker on the 13th! It’s bloody infuriating because them I’m the one that has to clean the buggy you’ve trampled sand into!”

“Oh…. I-I … I wasn’t expecting that” Tom had spoken quietly, in an unfamiliar tone to Y/n. Over hours she’d spent on the course with them over the months, Y/n had gotten used to his storytelling voice when recounting an insane experience to his family that he’d had in the world of Hollywood; his grumpy voice when he played badly, which was often; and then his gloating voice - most definitely the worst and intolerable. This voice though, was different.  

“I-I’m so sorry I have no right, I just-“ She’d out her foot in it …. badly. The young actor was one of the most clubs most prestigious and valued members; and she’d just insulted him. Clearly, she was also about to be in search of another job. 

“No no I appreciate your tip… I didn’t even realise you play?” His gracious smile calmed her nerves a little, though Y/n still wrung her hands together as she replied.

“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it but the club let us employees loose after hours… I practice quite a bit”

“Seeing as you think my game is so shitty, you fancy a round next time?”

~~

Flash forward 3 and half years and a proposal, they were now taking their next massive leaps in the world together. Bringing a whole new life into it. It was bloody terrifying, they both openly admitted. But it was also exciting, new, incredible and… and made them even closer. Now they had to be in each others lives forever, no escaping. 

“How many days left?” Craning her neck back on his shoulder so Y/n could meet his brown eyes, she knew the answer would be immediate. 

“15 till the due date and the app said they’re the size of a rhubarb but I don’t really know what that means.” He knew more about the pregnancy and birth than she did. He had about a dozen different apps on his phone (including one pointlessly comparing the size of the baby to carrots/ watermelons/ onions), had read 4 different books (which for Tom was the equivalent to reading Newton’s book ‘philisphica Mathematica’.)

Ever since she’d told him about the pregnancy Tom had excelled every expectation Y/n had of him… massively. Without even having a conversation surrounding it, he had explicitly cancelled all major work commitments within 2 months of the due date and until around a year after. He had flown back and fourth across the world so he could pop in and check on you. He’d also set his whole family on becoming your minders when he was away - Y/n wouldn’t have been able to go a day avoiding a Holland (or Osterfield) if she had tried. 

The pregnancy thus far hadn’t been the easiest though, hence why Y/n still appreciated to constant worrying texts and calls. During the first trimester the morning sickness had been literal hell; and then you’d had a little bit of a scare with pre-eclampsia during the second. It landed you a 3 day stay in hospital and a very very panicked Tom rushing back from New York on the first possible flight. 

So now? Y/n wanted the baby out. She wanted family life as parents. (At which point hopefully Tom would stop comparing the size of your child to an assortment of different fruit and veg)

“You know, you really are going to be the best dad in the world Thomas Stanely Holland.”

“And you Y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n are already a pretty impressive mum.”

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It was 3 o’clock the next morning when Y/n awoke with a sudden groan instinctively rubbing her stomach in an attempt to get them easing up. Now too familiar with Braxton-Hicks contractions, the weird cramping that waxes and wanes but never letting her get any rest - Y/n knew she was in for a long night. With a muted sigh she carefully lifted Tom’s arm off her side, cautious not to disturb him. The poor boy had been up most nights with her, just because baby wasn’t letting her sleep, it didn’t mean Tom wasn’t deserving of rest either. 

So making furtive movements at a snails pace, she attempted to tip toe out the room - yet as Tom had pointed out before, she looked almost like an elephant, so everything was relative. Surprisingly though, she was successful, escaping onto the soft cream carpet of their hallway before choosing to venture into the room opposite theirs. It had once been a spare room, though more correctly termed the ‘shit room’ because that’s where all the accumulated shit they got was thrown. Now however, Tom and his brothers had taken on the mammoth task of clearing it out and redecorating - creating the most beautiful nursery one could ever see. Complete with a rocking chair which Y/n made a beeline for, now allowing herself to audible groan at the tight sensation deep inside her. 

Normally they would ease after a half an hour or so, yet this time, after what was surely more like an hour and a half they started to…. ramp up. What was a tight pressure sensation quickly became one more forceful volatile and full of pain. She put it off for about 3 or 4 cycles of these, pursing her lips and breathing deeply as she tried to convince herself they’d just simply fizzle away. This couldn’t be the real thing could it? It was too soon - as Tom had said she wasn’t due for another 15 days. It wasn’t happening… was it?

The answer was pretty comprehensively and cohesively given when Y/n tried to stand up, in the hope of walking the ache off, she felt an incredibly tight crunch as her insides seemed to wring themselves together. Oh … and a surge of water soaked her pyjama bottoms. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCKKKK TOMMMM!! TOM-ah shit-  MY WATERS!!! TOOOMMMM”The pain had amped up to a very very impressive levels, forcing Y/n to clutch her sides as she kept bending and straightening back up… as if that would help. Her lonesome agony didn’t last long though, a flustered Tom hurtled in the room - his hair sticking up all over the place and although his eyes were puffy from sleep he still had them glued open impressively wide.

“No its-its too- its too early!” In pure disbelief, Tom shook his head staring across at her face, contorted in pain.

“Yeh because-“ She gulped and exhaled in as much of a controlled manner she could through pursed lips; before answering his stupid statement. “Because I can just HOLD IT IN FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS SHALL I?” It took a while for Tom to process, looking down at the puddle of clear fluid on the floor and damp patch on her plaid bottoms while it was Y/n’s turn to look upon his it utter disbelief at his stupidity. 

 “Oh shit shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!” His words grew with increased volume and place whilst he stayed frozen, his arms reaching out lightly toward Y/n without touching her though. “What do we do?!”

He of course had revised repeatedly and extensively what he was supposed to do when this happened - yet in the moment all knowledge and planning evaporated from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for taking the mick of her terrified fiancé though, Y/n was too blinded by pain as she leaned on the dresser.

“Get the-ah FUCKING hell - phone we need to time them and phone the … the-MIDWIFE.” It was hard to direct a frantic and terrified man when one feels as though her insides are collapsing in on themselves. 

Tom gulped, nodding shakily, whilst trying to take deep breaths because although he was fucking terrified it wasn’t him that was giving birth. He had to step up now. 

It took barely 10 minutes from the midwife picking up to a frantic Tom for her to assess that they needed to get into the hospital asap. During the pregnancy, all of Tom’s rich friends had recommended paying for a private hospital like the ‘Portland hospital’. The idea was it was a much more luxurious and private experience - of course coming with a heavy price tag. For Tom money was not an issue, so he’d suggested to Y/n and met the strongest rejection of all his life. The NHS was by far the only choice in Y/n’s mind - of course it busier, a lot less serene and not as private; but if god forbid something did happen, that was where all the experts and resources were. The idea of being able to pay for better access to healthcare actually repulsed Y/n and everything she stood for… so in short Tom was met with a very blunt refusal. 

Once they arrived on the ward, all it took was one look at Y/n’s inflated belly and the way her body was squirming in the wheelchair Tom was pushing, whilst laden with the baby bags they’d had packed and prepared for weeks, for the pair to be rushed into a side room. After an intense 20 minutes of getting Y/n settled, getting her full medical history and inspection of her vagina the hmidwife’s head popped up from between her legs with a kind smile. She explained in a calming and gentle tone that Y/n was 5 cms dilated and had got to that point fast, yet now things looked to be slowing down a bit. With final words of advice of try to relax she left the pair to it. 

They both looked at each other, a matching expression of confusion and relative terror blatantly clear in both their eyes. It had them both burst out laughing, if Y/n then scowled at the pain that shot through her side.

“This is really happening huh?” Tom murmured as he rounded the bed to gently run his hands through her sticky hair.

“I don’t know unless you really do want me to postpone their arrival for a short while?” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, although not really able to surpress the chuckle at his finances humour - even if it was at his expense.

“Glad to see you can still be as sarcastic as ever.” He laughed but before she could reply another wave of contractions hit making her instead just scream - grabbing his hand so tightly Tom was certain a bone or two were crushed in the process. 

It was another hour or two of the same traumatic sight of watching the women he loved more than anything in the world be in such extreme pain. God knows how his appreciate for his mother grew in that moment - she had had four kids overall, two of them twins! Tom dared to think of the scenes in that room of twin brothers birth. Having to deal with both Sam and Harrys large heads…

Harrison had arrived in the meantime, he was to be the child’s godfather and Y/n was more than happy to have him there - even if it was more of a support to Tom than Y/n. Quite expectantly though, he was just as terrified and useless as Tom - so instead of having one idiot to deal with, the midwives now had double trouble of terrified men. 

And yet after another 1 hour or so Y/n was being told to make one final push. Baring down on the gas and air tube, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut together whilst simultaneously contracting every muscle in her body with what little energy she had left. Hearing Tom and Harrisons words of encouragement; the midwifes orders and her own long and continuous scream, Y/n pushed with all she had. It was excruciating and torturous yet she kept going until the most beautiful sound was the only thing left reverberating round the room. 

Her babies cry. 

Tom looked at the scene in awe, feeling an almost out of body experience as the midwife unfolded from her position leant over the bed looking up to Tom. 

“Do you want to cut the cord Dad?” Releasing a breathy laugh, tears collecting in his eyes he looked down at Y/n. She looked a mess - hair flying all over the place; sweaty sheen and a ruined look on her face; panting hard as she caught her breath. But to Tom? Never had he seen her look more beautiful, especially when she managed a small smile, nodding encouragingly at him. So he moved round to the end of the bed as the nurse motioned, while Harrison squeezed Y/n’s shoulder with the proudest look on his face. 

It was the first time Tom had ever seen his child. And really, seeing a wrinkly little pink thing covered in all sorts of gunge - it shouldn’t be such a magical moment. But here he was, a single tear escaping over his lower lashes at the sight of them wriggling about. The midwife gave him a second, before gently handing him the medical scissors and directing him as to what to do. Once done, the lady announced the room it was a beautiful baby girl.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur, the whole situation felt extremely surreal to everyone - but perhaps most to Y/n. Although the baby was premature the doctors had checked and were confident was perfectly healthy, so after both Y/n and Tom having their turn holding her (Tom finally got his real skin to skin time) they brought in a little incubator where she could rest while Y/n was recovering. Due to her prematurity, as a safety net, the doctors did want to keep the baby girl in overnight for observation, which meant the whole party would be staying too. 

Y/n loved nothing more than watching Tom and Haz with their baby. The way they delicately cradled her in their strong arms and the way their eyes softened so inexplicably. Y/n swore that had she not just pushed a watermelon sized human out her vagina, the way Tom looked while holding their daughter would make her pregnant all over again.  

“I still can’t believe you two created a real life human.” Harrison mused while standing with the baby girl in his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her sleep soundly. 

“To be fair it was mainly Y/n” Tom laughed as he squeezed Y/n’s hand (wincing internally as it hurt his already injured hand - Y/n had an almost death grip)

“Oh no credit where credits due… he was involved for a whole 3 minutes or so.” Harrison snorted and Tom scowled at her, yet her cheeky if exhausted grin instantly erased any annoyance.

“Don’t make sexual jokes in front of our child!” He retorted, Harrison still laughing at his friend. Haz loved Y/n too - she made Tom a better version of himself. And now, she’d made him a dad. 

**triggering part starts here

After all the excitement of the early morning it was more than fair to say Y/n was shattered, Tom not doing much better. So after a little bit, Tom joined Y/n on the bed and they instantly fell asleep to the light beeping of their babies heart monitor. Harrison stayed in the arm chair in the corner of the room, wheeling the little incubator right in front of him to just stare at the little girl. He had been texting Tom’s family too, giving them details of when they’d be allowed to come and meet the little one, who had just woken up to all Tom’s frantic texts from the night before.

Eventually though he was ped ousnapt of his happy daze, looking over to the bed and seeing Tom groan as he shifted on the mattress that was technically only spacious enough for one.

“You good mate?” Harrison spoke in a low voice, keen not to disturb either the baby of Y/n - she had earned a bit of peace. Tom just mumbled in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat up before letting out a deeper groan.

“-hat the fuck” Tom lifted up the blanket covering them both as Harrison looked on inquisitively. But then Tom leapt off the bed, started violently shouting Y/n as he shook her in a look of desperation. It was violent and harsh, Harrison was horrified as he immediately stood up in an action to pull Tom off her. 

“Tom what are you-“

“Get help Haz.” Tom turned around to look at Haz, only at which point could the blonde haired boy make out why Tom looked so insane. Because his trousers, and the bedsheets that were now not hidden by the blankets, was covered in a red sticky substance. Jaw dropping, Haz slalomed round the incubator to stand at the foot of the bed. 

It honestly looked like a horror scene. Y/n’s lower half was completely saturated in a bright red liquid that slowly was creeping further and further through the sheets. Her face looked pale, Haz cursing himself for not noticing earlier and her breathing… it looked so slow it was barely noticeable. The silence was only endured for a few moments, before Tom turned back to violently shaking the dead weight below him yelling her name repeatedly and frantically. 

As soon as the alarm was raised more and more staff piled into the room, each one carrying a new level of importance and seniority - instantly taking control of the room and shouting orders. Tom had long since been pulled away from the bed by a nurse, who was trying to speak to him and calm him down, but was completely ignored as he focused on the scene over their shoulder.

“Looking like a primary PP bleed but she’s lost at least 3 pints already…. Somone bleep the aenestists and lets get moving to the OR please!.. We’ll need bloods crossmatch 5 units….”  

Tom heard to the controlled sense of urgency in the lead doctors voice and he felt as though his heart was being torn straight from his chest. Harrison took over from the nurse, half restraining - half hugging him as the nurse ushered them completely out the room.  Shouting over Tom’s desperate pleas to let the doctors do their thing. He fought hard against Harrison but ultimately his hold was enough to keep him back, the two watching from he corridor as Y/n’s bed was wheeled rapidly out the room - what seemed like at least 12 staff members bustling after it.

Harrison knew it was hopeless to try and talk to Tom, as he paced up and down the ‘relatives room’ the two had been confined to. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, no-one seemed to want to tell them - making the worst case option appear the most likeliest in Harrison’s head. A nurse had said the baby, as yet unnamed, had been taken down the neonatal unit so that it was one thing less for them to worry about ; but refused to say anything about Y/n, saying a doctor would come and explain soon. 

It must’ve been 20 mins, even if to the two men it felt like a lifetime, when a round and short, greying man with big black rimmed rectangular glasses entered the room. Tom was too in his own head to even notice, pacing up and down the room while constantly running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his breath in regular time - even if his brain was on overdrive.  It took Harrison calling his name twice to make him snap out of it, looking up with desperate pleading eyes to notice the stout man, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Are you Mrs y/L/n’s husband?”

“Fiance”

“I’m Dr Webber the consultant gynaecologist,  shall we take a seat sir?” Tom stayed rigid, standing opposite him in an offensive manner.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” At Tom’s cold words, Haz’s breath halted in his chest. It had been what they’d both been thinking, of course, it was natural when you see someone with more blood out their body than inside it. The doctor seemed a little shocked at his frankness, pressing his lips together as he let out a sigh. 

“No sir she’s not but she is very very unwell. Please, let’s sit down so we can talk about it because I understand it’s a lot to take in.” It took a couple of movements of Tom stood frozen staring but Dr Webber held firm, waiting until Tom took a seat next to Haz before he moved - drawing a chair from across the room so he could face both men. 

“First off I’m sorry you were removed from the room and put in here for so long but these situations are incredibly hard and to get Y/n the best care we needed the whole room.”

“Doctor I just… I just need to know what’s going on.” He couldn’t deal with the state of unknowing, Tom was going insane, he didn’t care for the small talk. 

“Sorry right, so what we think happened was your fiancé developed a condition called ‘placental accreta’. In simple terms, a bit of the placenta is stuck in the uterus and causes bleeding.”

“That much bleeding?” Haz couldn’t help himself from butting in, he knew this wasn’t really his place, that he was just being there for Tom. But at the same time that was his godchilds mum, it mattered. 

“Honestly? Usually not, Y/n had very severe bleed… So she has been taken in for surgery, where the very talented surgeons are trying patch up the affected blood vessels. I’m afraid at this point that’s all I can really say.”

“So… she’s going to be okay?” It was desperate plea for something that, even if Tom wouldn’t admit, he didn’t really believe - it seemed as if none of the three in the room did. 

“It’s not that easy I’m afraid. Assuming the surgeons can stabilise the bleeding and fix it…. with blood loss like she has suffered we… we don’t know what the effects of that will be. We tried to prevent as much damage to her brain and body as possible with transfusing blood into her and it was good that she was in hospital so could get treatment almost immediately…. But I’m afraid it’s simply too early to say. The first hurdle is going to be getting her out of surgery safely, only then can we deal with whatever happens next.”

Tom had so many emotions flashing through his head. He knew the doctor was trying to go slow to make the information a little more digestible  but it was all so bloody incomprehensible. So when the greying man asked  both men if they had any questions, neither took up his offer. Surely they both would after hours of processing and analysing but for right now? They were stunned into silence. 

“Okay sir, now I hope you don’t mind me saying this but it really is important for you to hear. You are now a father, as Y/n is a mother. This situation is never easy but as a first time dad I need you to be aware that now your fiancé can’t be your only priority. We are all here to support you but please, just remember that.”

Harrison was so glad the doctor had said that, it was so completely true - yet Haz knew he didn’t have enough power to have said it to Tom. The whole thing was impossible and at the centre was an innocent, beautiful but totally dependant baby. 

“What happens now then?” Haz had to ask on behalf of his friend, who was now completely overwhelmed. Dr Webber sighed, leaning back and rubbing his knees before answering. 

“If the surgery is successful it’ll be at a best estimate two hours before we will have news for you , then she will be taken into intensive care where everything else would be assessed and further investigations would happen. You can both stay here or go get food, maybe go down and see the baby in the neonatal ICU? I personally promise that as soon as any of us get any news you will be the first to know.” 

He was met with the sort of silence that makes you shiver. Sighing heavily, the doctor rubbed his knees, apparently preparing to leave. “This possibly one of the worst case scenarios that could’ve happened but Y/n is in the best hands and we will do everything for her. If you do think of anything you want clarification on, grab one of the nurses and they’ll come and find me.”

And then he left. 

The room was deathly silent. Harrison couldn’t dare to look over at Tom - he knew what he would see and honestly seeing Tom like that would only make it worse. God knows how long they sat in those plastic lined, lightly padded hospital chairs. Both in silence. Just thinking… or more like worrying… or more like dreading. It was Tom who actually broke the silence first, his voice barely audible but still the meaning was crisp and clear. 

“I can’t do it Haz” For the first time since the doctor was with them, Harrison looked at Tom, catching him directly in the eye. That hurt… Tom’s eyes looked so, so… hopeless. He knew what his broken friend was saying, but honestly Haz didn’t want to hear it so he did not respond. That didn’t stop Tom though, he continued. “I can’t do it. … I-I can’t be a dad without her… I just can’t.”

What the hell was Harrison supposed to say? There wasn’t really a guidebook to this situation. He was clueless. So, cautiously Harrison just leaned over, wrapping his arms round Tom as he all but collapsed into his friends chest. Tom was sobbing harshly as Harrison looked up at the ageing ceiling tiles, trying to surpress his own emotions because now clearly wasn’t about him. 

“You can Tom… you have to.” His friend didn’t respond, well apart from harsh sobs that racked his frame. And so Harrison just let Tom cry, folded awkwardly and uncomfortably over the arm rest of the chairs, occasionally yelling into his chest at the unjustness of the situation. 

It wasn’t fair. But it had still happened. And there was still a baby girl by herself downstairs. 

//////

is this okay or too much? I won't write another part if generally people think its a bit too dark!!!!

[dragoqueen]

Whoops! Wrong Way 3/8

Summary: Peter has been living at Avengers Tower for 2 years, known to the workers and Avengers as Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers.  When his teacher announces that they're going on a field trip to Avengers Tower, or SI,  he's going to have to attempt to survive a day of embarrassment and keeping a secret identity.

Words: 2023

And here it was, the day of his death. The day of his misery. The day all his worst nightmares would come true. Friday... the field trip.

He had done all he could to convince each and every avenger to not mess with him. He got positive answers from Bruce, Steve, and Thor. However, he was going to have to deal with the rest in any way he could. He had tried to figure out their plan, knowing that they stayed up at night to plan his demise. However, he couldn't figure out a single thing. He had the bright idea to try and figure out what they were doing when he arrived by asking FRIDAY but until then he was doomed.

Tony woke him up an extra 30 minutes earlier than he usually did, not wanting Peter to be late for the field trip. The only good thing he had gotten out of it was that Bucky and Steve had gotten up early too to cook him a smorgasbord of food. He quickly scarfed down enough food to last him the beginning of the day before changing into his outfit and meeting Happy downstairs to get a ride to school.

Somehow, despite getting up early and getting a ride with Happy instead of walking, he was almost late. Almost. He made sure to spend extra long eating his food in hope that he would miss the bus and the school would just make him attend normal classes. Unfortunately, he was just in time to get on the bus and clamber to the back where Ned and MJ were sitting. Sadly, Flash wasn't too far from them either which made the ride to the tower, which he had planned on spending sulking and dying inside, worse.

Flash spent the entirety of the bus ride making jokes of Peter and insulting him. Most of them were intern-related, reminding Peter how he "didn't have an actual internship at Stark Industries" and "wasn't even smart enough to get an internship even at McDonalds". Luckily, before Peter knew it, they had arrived at the tower and the teacher was trying to keep them quiet so he could go check them in and make sure everything was ready.

Then, he got them out of the bus and lined them up in the lobby of the tower for their tour guide to explain the rules to them and hand out their badges. "Alright everyone. I'm Mars and I'm going to be your tour guide today. First, I know you all signed NDA's so please remember anything that happens in this tower that could be secretive you will be forced not to tell anyone or risk getting sued and, let me tell you, we have some very good lawyers. Speaking of the NDA, we are also going to have to confiscate your phones so we don't have you taking pictures or recording things. So I'm going to come by and hold out a basket I expect you to all place your phones in." Mars began walking down the row of children, having them all drop their phones in. when he got to the back where Ned, Peter, and MJ were, he just smiled at them and walked away, having already recognized them and knew that they were authorized to have their phones. Then, he returned to the front of the line where he placed the basket on the counter of the security desk and resumed his place at the front of the line.

"Now, first up on our tour is the Avengers museum. There are all of the first, fails, and worthy achievements of the Avengers. Everything from suits to fun facts can be found there. You will have 45 minutes to wander around before we head up to the intern labs so no dilly-dallying. However, first you're going to have to go through these scanners and scan your badge. For example..." Mars walks to the metal archway and scans his lanyard on the scanner before stepping through. The voice of FRIDAY spooks everyone except for Mars, Peter, MJ, and Ned, "Mars Bars, level 4, access limited."

"What the heck was that?" Cindy asks.

"That was FRIDAY. She's an AI that Tony built, she basically runs this building. But, back on track. Who's next?"

"Me!" Flash shouts, pushing his way to the front and scanning his lanyard before walking through, smug and confident that he was first.

"Eugene Thompson, Level 1, access very limited."

Flash smirks at his name being said by something that Tony Stark created. He walks forward to stand next to Mars while his next classmate goes. One by one, each of the students scan and walk through for Friday to announce their name and the same level and access type. Up until it was MJ's turn. She did the same as all of her other classmates, scanning her lanyard and then stepping through the metal archway but this time FRIDAY announces, "Michelle Jones, "Boss Girl" level 9, full access. Should I alert Scary Girl or Ms. Potts of your arrival?"

"No, that's okay FRIDAY. I'm on a field trip."

"Okay, have a good time." FRIDAY responds, causing everyone to stare at MJ in surprise. She just smirked before returning to her normal glare and stepped into the cluster of kids. Next was Ned, "Ned Leeds, "that one annoying hacker kid" level 9, full access. Shall I alert Science Bro #2 of your arrival?"

"No, FRIDAY. Bruce knows I'm on a field trip. Thanks though."

"Enjoy your time." FRIDAY answers.

Same procedure. The entire class stares at Ned in wonder and confusion. He blushes in response to the sudden attention and takes his spot in the cluster next to MJ. Last in line was Peter. He had been fearing this moment, knowing that he had the highest level in the tower, next to the other Avengers. Plus his nickname from Tony and Clint was sure to cause some questions to arise. However, dutifully, he stepped up and scanned his lanyard and stepped through. "Peter Parker, "Mini-Stark" level 10, full access. Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark of your arrival?"

"No! I mean... no that's alright FRIDAY. He probably knows I'm here anyways."

"Enjoy your trip, Peter."

He inwardly groans at the fact that she called him Mini-Stark, but was happy she had called him Peter Parker, rather than Peter Parker-Stark-Rogers. Tony must have cared somewhat of Peter's confidentiality if he changed that. He ignores the stares from his classmates and the smirk from Mars as he joins MJ and Ned in the middle of the group. "Alright, continuing with the tour if you will all join me in this elevator we will go up to the Avengers museum,"

While they all walk over to the elevator and begin piling into the cramped space. When Peter's in, Mars asks FRIDAY to take them up to the 12th floor where the Avengers museum was. Flash leans over and whispers into Peter's ear, "hey, Penis, how'd you manage to hack the AI to make it seem like you and your nerd friends have such a high access? We all know you're lying so just give up." Peter sighs and doesn't say anything, opting to move out of reach of Flash so that MJ is blocking them.

A/N:

For the sake of my sanity let's assume it's a big and strong elevator that holds all like 25-30 of his class okay? Thanks y'all

The door opens to the museum and the class spills out and begins exploring all of the corners of the museum. Each section was dedicated to a specific Avenger. The kids who wanted a more in depth explanation of things stayed by Mars who was walking around and giving his little "tour guide spiel" about the museum. Peter, MJ, and Ned, who had already explored the museum many times, walked around leisurely to explore different things that appeared to have been updated since the last time they were here.

At one point, Ned dragged Peter excitedly to a new section where Tony had added in a Spider-Man section. Peter observed the information happily...

" 1. Spider-Man prefers hanging from the wall than standing on the floor

2. Spider-Man's favorite snack is gummies.

3. Spider-Man is deathly afraid of spiders. "

"Dude, you're afraid of spiders? How?"

"First of all, shut it. Second, just because I have spider-like powers doesn't mean I like the creature. They're freaky."

Ned just laughs and continues to explore the exhibit. Peter looks over the things and makes a mental note to thank his dads later. The things included in it were incredible, a plaque with the phrase, "with great power comes great responsibility." And referencing his Uncle Ben. His first suit was also in a display case along with some of his old web fluid and a physical design of his webs that wouldn't disintegrate.

Suddenly, he felt an eerie presence provided by his Spidey Sense. He looked around the room, trying to detect where the threat warning could be coming from. Flash and his goons were all in a different section so it definitely wasn't them. And no one else was really around that could be threatening. Just then, he got a warning that someone was going to be coming out of the vents in 3... 2... 1... he stepped out of the way just in time to watch Clint fall out of the vents and crumple onto the ground. Then he jumps right up as if nothing had happened and smiles at Peter. (A/N: Clint was the imposter)

"Clint what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to embarrass you. But also Bucky made cookies this morning and Morgan threatened to take away my venting privileges if I didn't bring any to you."

"And you got scared of a 6 year old because... why?"

"She's scary. Also she has Wanda and Pepper on her side."

"Ooh, yeah. You'd better watch out for that. But, Bucky made cookies? Gimme."

Clint grins and reaches into his pocket to grab a cookie that's wrapped in a plastic bag. It's a triple chocolate cookie with extra chocolate chunks. The cookie is still warm so Peter can only assume it came out of the oven moments before. He takes a bite into it and it almost melts in his mouth. He lets out a sigh of comfort and tucks the cookie, in the plastic bag, into his pocket.

By this time someone had noticed that The Hawkeye was here and had shouted to the rest of the group. A crowd had gathered around him and were all shouting questions.

"What's your favorite thing about being an Avenger?"

"Whos' the scariest Avenger?"

"How do you know Pen- Peter?"

Peter cringes at the last one. He's sure Clint hears it and his suspicions are only confirmed when Clint's casual smile disappears and he turns to glare at Flash. "What did you call Peter?"

"I- uh.. I called him Peter, sir."

"Is that right? Mmh... you better watch yourself kid. And you'll have time to ask questions at the Q & A at the end of the tour with some of the other Avengers."

"Uh... Q & A? That's not on the list of things to do." Mars comments, having migrated over to where the crowd of kids had formed.

"One of your co-workers will inform you of the change in schedule during lunch. Don't worry, it was pre-approved by Tony."

"Mr. Stark? Oh, well... okay cool. Anyways, I think it's time Mr. Barton has to go. After all, we have to continue on with our tour as our 45 minutes are up. Everyone say bye to him."

A majority of goodbyes are shouted out, along with quite a few phone numbers. Clint gives them a mock salute before jumping back in the vents and crawling off to who knows where. Peter only calms down when his heightened senses are no-longer able to hear Clint clambering through the vents. Mars leads them all into the elevator and the doors slide shut, taking them up to their next destination, the intern labs. 

[ghostsreadingghosts]

The Specialist

Synopsis:  Welcome to the Institute - a business slotted into the space between worlds. Here, strange things aren’t so abnormal, but should still be feared. Follow Ellis, a Data Specialist, as she fulfills her tasks in the archives and perhaps finds more than what she was meant to in the process.

Data Specialist. Data. Specialist. Such a vague title, though Ellis thought it was probably fitting. She felt like a vague member of her company, just an almost faceless little job puppet that flitted from work load to work load without ever leaving much of an impression on anyone. She wasn’t closely tied with any person here - wasn’t even close enough that most of them knew her name. But she knew them, or at least, observed them.

Amilia was head analyst for the Institute, meaning she was the one who assigned everyone’s work load in their department. She was a petite, intelligent woman who’d never worked anywhere other than the Institute for her entire life and, honestly, was probably born there. No one was really sure where she came from. She just sort of appeared one day working in the archive vault and no one questioned it. It was one of those things that was best not to question, Ellis had learned. 

Charlie, on the other end of the employment ladder, was a junior analyst, having been hired right off of his college internship, meaning he’d already been working there for a year so it was easier than putting up another job posting and training in someone else. It also meant he’d probably stick around for awhile because he had no “real world” experience yet outside of an internship and he was just poor enough that he couldn’t afford to quit without another job lined up. Which was unlikely in the near future, given the experience garnered at the Institute was a very specific kind.

Then there was Darius, who was one of the Analysts and field workers. They were always running on too much caffeine and too little sleep, but so was everyone else in the Institute aside from Upper Management. They’d been a runaway at one point in their life, but by now would simply describe it as having a ‘no contact relationship’ with their parents. Only Ben tried to ask about them once and Darius had stonewalled him at every turn. So much for a “close knit workspace,” as Ben liked to call it.

Ben was the secretary and the liaison between Upper Management and the Data & Records department where Ellis worked. He was the perfect creature of poised charm and warm smiles - all grins and business talk with nothing really much deeper. It made Ellis’ skin crawl. He looked like one of the Office Drones from the top floor. Those strange little eldritch beings peeled off of the Beyond and stuck into expressionless skins, milling about on the upper floors in jerky, uncoordinated movements as they fulfilled the tasks of their masters until they could be released back into the Beyond again were the primary menial workforce of the Institute, though Ellis couldn’t imagine why. Their faces never moved right, their skin and clothes never settling quite into a perfect facsimile of humanity. Instead it was always just off enough to cause discomfort and Ellis had long learned to steer clear of them when they made their rare appearances on the lower floors to deliver packages or run office errands. It did make Ellis wonder how other offices worked, though. 

She had never really had work outside of the Institute, as far as she could recall. Maybe a job when she was teenager babysitting or cutting grass, but she couldn’t remember. Her life was full of long days and boring evenings, so it’s not as though there was anything particularly worth remembering if her life had always looked the way it did now. But she heard stories from time to time from other people about work outside of the Institute and it always made her mind twist about in strange ways.

She’d gone on a date once with a man named Garrett who, when Ellis asked about his work, laughed and said he was just an office drone. He’d been very confused when Ellis’ color drained from her face and she excused herself to pay her tab and leave. Ingrid, Ellis’ roommate and a woman who worked in marketing, stated that he was just making a joke and that Office Drones were different outside of the Institute. Ellis wasn’t sure what to make of that, but wasn’t particularly keen to go out with someone who referred to themselves as a lifeless husk with nothing but a squirming, wriggling mass of inhuman tentacles and teeth inside.

But was it really any better than her job, when she thought about it? Data Specialist. Did that mean she specialized in data? Or that she dealt with specialist data? Perhaps both. She did have to sign a rather lengthy NDA when she was hired, or at least she thought she remembered signing an NDA. It was so long ago now.

She frowned as she climbed up onto a ladder in the archives, putting a rather temperamental file back onto the top shelf. As she completed the task, she shuffled through her notes and found the form she was looking for just as Ben rounded the corner.

“There you are, Ellis,” he said, never looking up from his clipboard. Ben was one of the only people there who actually remembered her name and Ellis was fairly certain that it was only because he worked with Upper Management and thus was required to know any and everyone who entered the building. “You’re so quiet now. I was wondering if you had the -” he lifted the pages on his clipboard and flicked through a few before Ellis cleared her throat.

“Here.”

“Ah, excellent.” Ben took the yellowed sheet she had stuck in his face, the heading printed in dark gothic lettering, and slid it into the papers on his clipboard. “And the -”

“On the table.” Ellis motioned to the work table where a thick manilla folder sat.

Ben followed the gesture of her hand and spotted the envelope. “Splendid,” he purred through a toothy smile. The air hissed through his teeth unpleasantly as he did so. “I’m not sure how we managed before you, Miss Ellis.”

Ellis wasn’t sure how to take that, but the statement almost sounded like a threat. She wasn’t entirely sure how it could be a threat, but it definitely felt like one.

Before she could respond to his question, the man was gone, the clip of his hard leather soles reverberating through the cramped archive halls. Ellis sighed through her nose and collected her papers into her soft leather briefcase before sliding haphazardly down the ladder to land with a neat plop on the floor. One of the files about halfway up the shelf - far out of reach from the ground level - spat a paper out at her and Ellis caught it with her fingertips as it drifted towards the floor.

“Thank you!” She waved up at the shelf and saw the edge of the file rustling back and forth in response.

“That’s a neat trick. I don’t think the archives behave that well for anyone else here.”

Ellis jumped when she heard the voice behind her and turned to see Francis resting against one of the shelves, his arms crossed against his chest and his dark eyes blinking at her in the dim archive light. Francis had always reminded her of a spider, somehow. Perhaps it was all of the eye tattoos on his arms or his long, spindly fingers that always seemed to be able to grasp things just beyond their reach. Whatever it was, he was as unnerving as he was beautiful and Ellis did not like that she was alone with him in the archive of all places. He technically was the head of Human Resources, so never really needed to come down to the archives except in very specific circumstances.

Ellis didn’t like Very Specific Circumstances. She swallowed and wiggled her fingers in a nervous ‘hello’ towards the man who was technically her superior but was still in a completely different department.

“Ah, I forgot about the silence thing. It has been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?” he mused. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture before Ellis could answer. “It doesn’t matter. I was hoping you’d be able to find something for me and bring it down to the mail center. I’d bring it myself, but, well - you are the Data Specialist for a reason and even I can’t crawl my way through these archives the way you can.” Francis bared his teeth in a strange mimic of a smile which Ellis couldn’t bring herself to return. She cleared her throat to ask what Francis needed, but the suit-clad HR manager simply began speaking again.

“It’s actually a few somethings - if you don’t mind. It’s for the Guillespe case. You know the one, I’m sure. The gentleman with the unfortunate bog hound?” Francis pulled a sheet of paper from his breast pocket, folded long ways down the center and handed it off to Ellis. “I was hoping it was an isolated incident, but Hellen thinks otherwise. She gave me a list of call numbers for you to look up. Just put them all in an envelope for me and bring them down to the mail room. They’ll make sure it gets to me in the morning.”

Ellis tugged on the tarnished chain hooked to her belt and pulled out her pocket watch to check the time. If he wanted this by morning, it meant a late night for her. And it was supposed to snow as it was. She frowned.

“Any questions?” Francis asked and Ellis looked up at him.

“I don’t think -”

“Good. Have a good night, Ellis. I’ll try to remember to swing by more often. It’s such a lovely little hovel you’ve carved out for yourself down here.” With that, the man scurried up the shelf and back into one of his tunnels in the ceiling, disappearing into the black void without another word. Ellis let out an exasperated sigh and unfolded the paper in her hands, scanning the call numbers and already forming the most efficient way to look for the articles and files that Francis wanted her to dig up. It would take her awhile, but she could manage it if she worked quickly and the archive decided to be helpful.

She made her way determinedly through the sprawling catacombs of the archive, taking long-familiar turns and winding her way on sure feet through the space, sometimes pausing and glancing up at the shelves to verify the call sections again. The struggle in compiling already collected data for the people at the Institute wasn’t so much that it was difficult to find, but rather that it was difficult to get to. Shelves were sometimes fathoms deep and some files were particularly cantankerous, whereas other organizational units and shelves were high enough that just getting up the ladder took several minutes, let alone climbing up on the shelf to then finish the journey. The information was easy enough to find, but collecting was a wholly different matter.

But Ellis knew the archives. She knew every shortcut, every switchback and wrong turn, every ladder and high shelf and soothing song to play for the files and the creatures that lived with them. She knew where to go and how to get it and where other people could become lost in the endless hallways and cramped corridors, Eliis could always find her way. It was a pity that so few remembered she was here to congratulate her on her hard work.

Oh well. She couldn’t have everything.

It was a long trek to collect all of the data for Francis and by the time she had it all, it was well past closing time for the Institute. The mail room would still be open since they sorted mail at all hours to make sure they kept deadlines, but most everyone else would have gone home or be in their Institute Approved cabinets by now. She’d be lucky if she wasn’t locked in.

The hallway to the mailroom was long and narrow and steep, almost more of a chute than a hallway and it was always a struggle to get back out again. Ellis had once slipped and wound up falling into a mail bin and was almost put in the paper shredder since non-addressed living organisms couldn’t be accepted. She’d gotten out of that by quickly writing “To: Archives” on the back of her hand, making her an addressed living organism and thus mailable. It had taken half an hour, but she eventually was deposited back at the archive door and only had to spend a few minutes getting the mailroom label off of her forehead. Ever since then she’d been more careful and always made sure to keep a new felt-tip pen on her when she went to the mailroom just in case. She tucked the files into an inter-office folder and wrote “Human Resources: Francis” on the front before dropping it into the open maw of the mailroom and scurrying her way back up the hallway to safety.

To her dismay, it wasn’t the locked doors that were keeping her in the Institute when she finally reached the entrance, but the foot and a half of snow piled up on the ground. Ellis groaned as she looked out at the fat snowflakes the clouds hurled down at the earth. She couldn’t see more than five feet out the door, which meant she’d almost certainly get lost before she made it to the bus stop. If the buses were even running in this weather, which they probably weren’t.

She eventually turned back into the Institute entryway to see if she might be able to snag a guest cabinet for the night. It was no use trying to find alternatives outside. She would sleep in the archives, but that wasn’t the best idea. She knew what was there when she was awake, but even Ellis, who knew the archives better than anyone, didn’t trust them while she was sleeping.

Twenty minutes and several flights of stairs leading to nowhere in particular later, Ellis found herself at a very odd door that she didn’t remember seeing before. It wasn’t as though the door was odd in any way. It was simply an office door - brown with blinds covering the window and a round handle with a lock in it. It looked much like any other door Ellis had seen in the Institute before, but Ellis was certain - certain! - that it had not been there before. Or, at least, she was sure that she’d never seen it there before. So then why did something just seem so familiar about this one?

Ellis had always been a curious person and on instinct, her hand began to reach out towards the handle.

“Don’t open in,” a part of her whispered in her ear and her hand paused. “You know something bad will happen if you do.”

“Open it,” another part replied. “Who knows what might be behind it? It could be different this time.”

This time? But Ellis hadn’t ever seen this door before. Or, at least she thought she hadn’t. Had she? No, wait, that wasn’t right. Something was… wrong.

Ellis dug the heels of her palms into her eyes and scrubbed until she saw stars. She felt a headache coming on. 

But she wanted to know what was behind the door. And besides, Upper Management went to bed when the Institute closed for the night. And Francis - dealing only in Human Resources - was probably out schmoozing their next Human Resource, so it’s not as though he was there to get angry with her. What harm could it really do? She placed her ear to the door and listened. If there was no sound coming from inside, then it was probably just a storage room and she wouldn’t bother going in, she decided. But she did hear something. A little mechanical whirring noise, followed by a pause, then more whirring.

Hesitantly, Ellis reached out and tried the handle of the door. It was unlocked. Ellis felt her heart thrumming loudly in her chest and she swallowed before swinging the door open and looking inside.

Ben looked up from a desk. Bright pink readers perched precariously on the end of his thin nose and his eyes narrowed as he saw who was standing in his doorway.

“Ah, Ellis. I’d hoped you’d gone home for the evening.”

In front of the man was what looked to be a rather ancient sewing machine all in black with an electric lamp attached to it that had clearly been added at a later date. Ben appeared to have been using it and now he picked up a seam ripper from the desk and clipped the threads connecting his project to the machine.

“Rather unfortunate, that. I had hoped you’d remember what happened last time. But I suppose it can’t be helped. They did a little too good of a job when making you a Data Specialist.”

Ellis’ eyebrows furrowed and she tried to open her mouth to speak.

“Ah, ah, no. You’ll tear your stitches, dear Ellis.” Ben rose from his seat and crossed to her. Ellis noticed for the first time just how tall he was. And that he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket. Without the suit jacket, the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to reveal the thousands of little threads running up and down his arms. All his Connections. It was a little frightening how many he had. Ellis looked up at him in confusion and Ben simply motioned to her left.

In the mirror was a woman - unkempt dark, curly hair and large eyes that looked like black marbles. Her long, thin form was covered by dusty, ragged clothes and her soft leather briefcase hung at her side like a satchel. But her mouth - 

Her mouth had been sewn shut.

“I suppose you won’t remember. I had hoped-” Ben paused behind her and looked over her reflection. His face held the imitation of a frown and for a flash of a second he almost looked sad. Almost. “Well, in the end t was Upper Management’s decision, not mine. Though, I did ask to do the the stitching myself. I thought the blue silk suited you. It really stands out with your eyes.”

Ellis blinked at Ben’s reflection in a panic, her heart racing faster than before.

“Oh, now, now, Ellis, don’t worry,” Ben spoke reassuringly as he pulled several long threads from his arms. He held them up to his lamplight, squinting and checking the threads against each other before choosing one and threading it on a needle.. “We’ll just start again like last time, little puppet.”

Ellis watched as Ben lifted the limp form from his sewing machine up, holding it out like a dress for her to appreciate.

“What do you think?” he asked.

It was a skin. A skin that looked like her. Ellis felt herself go stiff with fear as Ben laid the skin out carefully on the work desk and walked over to her, brandishing his seam ripper.

“Now, hold very, very still.”