#Maybe I just gotta log off for tonight- The school stress has been getting to me akfnskfnskfndjd

[wayfinderships]

Good evening gamers!! Hope you're all doing well!! As for me...I have 3 Yakuza Crushes now 😔 One of them if from Judgement though if that helps-

[lyssismagical]

Can you do a hurt/comfort parkner story where Peter overworks himself cause someone died and he thinks it’s his fault so Harley has to help him. No rush at all 💞

It’s hard for Harley to really offer much, living so far away from his boyfriend.

When Peter stops responding to texts, stops answering his endless calls, cancels their virtual date nights, there’s not much Harley can do. It’s not like he can really force Peter to answer him.

The days without Peter, without his witty texts, his soft crackling laughter over the phone, the heart-eyes he gets whenever they have Skype Dates, it’s hard. Harley hates to be so far, still stuck in Rose Hill, with no way of getting up to New York for more than a couple weeks a year, but being without Peter, not being able to see him or hear from him or even get a single text to ease his nerves, hurts like his chest has been pried open, heart trying to escape and find it’s way back to his love.

At first, he assumes Peter’s just busy. They’re rounding on Exam season and Peter’s a Junior, so class loads are pretty heavy, not to mention the Academic Decathlon competition he’d been talking about the last time they called.

But even when Peter’s busy, he always remembers to text at least once. Especially with how nervous and worried his texts get as the days pass with no answer.

His boyfriend is a superhero. How could he not be worried?

He’s had the news on almost constantly at home, annoying the hell out of his little sister, and his phone ringer stays on high all day at school, getting him into a few detentions. But so far, nothing’s come up about Spider-Man.

After four days of radio silence on Peter’s side, nearly a hundred messages staying on Delivered, he finally caves and calls Tony.

“Wow, my second favourite young adult!” Tony says, sounding mostly chipper. As chipper as someone like Tony Stark can. “What’s got you calling? Normally, I hear everything through Peter.”

“So you’ve heard from Peter?” Harley asks, voice lifting almost an octave higher in his worry and panic. “He hasn’t answered me in four days and I’m kinda freaking out.”

Harley starts pacing the length of his bedroom, heart hammering in his chest. Abbie shoves open his door, rolling her eyes overdramatically at him, but she still sprawls out across his bed, watching him carefully.

“Um, now that you say that, he cancelled his last Lab Night with me. I didn’t really think much of it but he’s been kinda snappy with me last week too,” Tony says. There’s a few clicks of a keyboard, and then Tony sighs. “It looks like he’s been logging a lot of hours as Spider-Man. Like a crazy amount. Yesterday, he was out from four pm, when he got out of school, until five am.”

“Is he mad at me? Did he say anything?”

Even Abbie frowns at his question, laced in desperation.

“I don’t know, kid. I haven’t spoken to him in like a week. I’ll ask May, I’ll see if I can corner Peter into telling me anything and I’ll let you know, okay?”

Harley frowns, saying a quick goodbye and dropping onto the bed beside his little sister. “I hate this. I just wish he’d call me.”

“I know, Harls, but there’s nothing either of us can do. It might be smarter to just take your mind off everything. Weren’t you planning a trip up over summer? That’s only another two weeks out,” Abbie says, forever going to be the smarter, more logical of the two Keener siblings. She shrugs but still wraps an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a comforting hug.

“I know you’re right,” he says, still staring at his phone. “I just… I really think I love him. I do. And I’m scared he’s mad at me or that things are falling apart and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just really wish he’d call and talk to me.”

Abbie doesn’t say anything more, knowing there’s nothing more she can do to make it better.

* It’s another three days before Peter finally responds.

All he’s heard since then was a single text from Tony reading Peter’s acting weird, think you were right. He’s not talking to me or May or even his friends, falling asleep in class, getting detentions. I’ll try to talk to him or at least get him to talk to you. But I’m pretty positive it wasn’t anything to do with you. Don’t fret.

And then it had turned back into a waiting game until Peter finally texted him.

It was simple, small, sweet.

I miss you

It made Harley’s chest jump, and he immediately asked to go to the bathroom, ducking out of class and dialing Peter’s number again.

He waits and waits and waits, but Peter doesn’t pick up. He tries again, heart pounding and pacing down the hallway.

On attempt three, Peter finally picks up. “Harley.”

“Peter, honey, thank god. I was starting to get worried. You weren’t answering my texts and cancelling all our dates and I was- I just-”

“I’m sorry.” Peter sounds miserable. Tired and upset and confused. “I meant to but I kept freaking out and I didn’t know how to… Is there anyway I could convince you to come up to New York early?”

Harley frowns. He wants to see Peter, he’d drop everything for Peter any day but he has his own exams the following week, plus Junior Prom on the Friday. It’s not like he can really skip any of it. Plus, changing his plane tickets is going to be a hassle.

“I don’t know if I can. I might be able to fly up on the Saturday, but that’s still another nine days from now, and that only changes our plans by four. It’s not really…”

Peter sniffles. “I just- I really wanna see you. I miss you and things have been hard and I just want you here, you know. I miss you. It’s been, what? Three months?”

“I miss you too, sweetheart, I have exams next week. All week. I don’t mind skipping junior prom, it’ll probably be awful anyways considering the disaster that was homecoming last year. But I still need to be here until Friday.”

“I know, I know, I just-” Peter cuts himself off, voice trembling.

Harley checks his watch, knowing he’ll get another detention if he spends too much time out of class. “How about, for now at least, we’ll set up a Skype date for tonight, and then we’ll talk more about making another trip up.”

“Six?”

“Yeah, six is good. I’ll look up plane tickets for this weekend, but I can’t make any promises, okay?”

Peter sniffles again. “Okay. ‘m sorry for worrying you.”

“That’s okay, darlin’. Don’t you worry about me. Are you home?”

“May grounded me when she found out I was skipping curfew. And when she saw just how badly I was skipping curfew, just how little sleep I was getting, she made me take a sick day to sleep but I couldn’t stop thinking about you and how much stress I must’ve been putting you under.”

Harley sighs, already knowing from Tony just how little sleep Peter had been getting. It makes his heart ache with the idea that he’s not there. He’s not close enough to wrap Peter up and protect him from everything, take care of him. He wishes, more than anything, that he could do that, that he could be there.

“I’ve gotta get back to class before I get a detention, but Skype call at six, okay? And we’ll talk about everything, make everything better, alright, honey?”

“Thank you, you’re the best, you know that? I really don’t deserve you, Harls,” Peter says, voice slipping into a quiet murmur. “You’re too good to me.”

Harley shakes his head, voice dipping too. “You deserve the world, darling, I swear.”

* Seeing Peter, through the old camera lens, makes everything make a little more sense.

The dark circles under his eyes, the puffiness of his tear-stained cheeks, his bloodshot eyes, the slight tremble of his shoulder, the bruises mapped out across the pale expanse of his skin. It makes Harley’s chest hurt so badly, makes his heart ache to be close to his boyfriend again.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Harley starts, voice rough and pained. “Everything okay?”

Peter shrugs, bottom lip sticking out. “I miss you. I wish you were here. The only thing I want right now is a hug from you.”

“Oh, I know, honey. I’m so sorry I can’t be there all the time to take care of you, to protect you, to hold you. I’m sorry I can’t. I’m sorry this has been so hard on you.”

“I know this has been hard on you too,” Peter says, obviously trying his best not to cry. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately. I just- I got so caught up in- in feeling like this and working so hard to be better, I didn’t think I deserved to have your support.”

Harley looks down, not wanting to cry in front of Peter who obviously needs him to be strong and stable for him. “You deserve everything and more.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew.”

“Knew what?” Harley says and then quickly rephrases, “Whatever it is, that’s not going to change how I feel about you, that’s not going to change how much you deserve.”

Peter frowns, lip trembling and eyes watering as he turns his gaze to his hands. “Last week, I was out patrolling and there was this fight happening out on the streets and I went to go save them, I wanted to protect her. She was- She was young, like maybe mid-twenties, and she was so scared and alone and I tried- I tried so fucking hard but-”

“Honey-”

“I got shot,” Peter says, voice breaking. “In the hip. I fell- I didn’t want- I couldn’t-”

Harley shakes his head, wanting nothing more than to hug his boyfriend, press a kiss to his forehead, hold him and make all of his pain go away. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“She died,” Peter chokes out, tears falling down his flushed cheeks. “She got shot and I tried to swing her to the hospital and keep her awake and get the bad guy, but with my stupid hip, I- I didn’t make it in time. I can’t- I-”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s not on you. You can’t save everyone, you know that. I’m so sorry that happened, but just because some bad guy hurt a civilian, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be cared about. It doesn’t mean you have to overwork yourself to make up for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Peter lets out a quiet pained noise, shoulders shaking. “It was my fault. I was right there. I should’ve gotten up and saved her. I should’ve been faster, more careful, something. I could’ve saved her.”

Realizing just how bad this is, the overwhelming need to wrap Peter up in a hug, makes itself obvious so he grabs the emergency credit card Tony had given him, and books the next flight to New York, leaving the next day. It’s not cheap, but he’s sure Tony would understand.

“Darling, it’s not your fault. I know it seems like it is, but you weren’t the one holding the gun, you weren’t the one who put her life in danger, the only one at fault is that bad guy, okay? This isn’t on you.”

Peter sniffles, ducking his head. “I visited the family yesterday as Peter Parker not as Spider-Man, well I told them it was me, but I told them what happened, how sorry I was.”

“Did they say it was your fault?”

His boyfriend deflates, shaking his head. “No, they said exactly what you did. That it’s not my fault, I tried, I made sure she wasn’t alone when she went. I know logically, there was nothing I could do, but- I still feel like I need to work harder to make sure it doesn’t happen to anybody else. That I won’t lose anyone else.”

“It’s not up to you to save everybody, Peter,” Harley says, hoping he can get it through to his boyfriend for at least tonight. “You’re the only superhero within the Avengers who actually cares about the little guy, it can’t be just your responsibility to save everybody in New York. That’s not feasible, right?”

“Right,” Peter agrees, finally slumping. “I know you’re right. I know I’m being crazy. I know it’s not up to me to save everyone, Tony’s had that conversation with me about a thousand times. I know, I just- I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Harley nods sympathetically, offering a small smile. “You’re definitely sleep-deprived, that can’t help. How much have you been doing?”

“I’ve been patrolling for like twelve hours every night,” Peter admits quietly. “May’s been working overnights so as long as I can get home before she gets home around six, she wasn’t going to find out. But I’d only get like an hour or two of sleep before school and exam prep and homework- I don’t know. Too much, really.”

“I just bought tickets to come home for the long weekend,” Harley says, smiling when Peter’s whole face lights up. “Tomorrow night, I’ll be flying out and you’ve got me until Monday morning. As long as you promise we’ll spend a little time studying for our exams.”

Peter quickly swipes a hand over his cheeks, ridding himself of the tears that still linger. “You know you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve hung in there for another week or two.”

“If I’m being honest, it’s only half because of you. It’s also half for my benefit.”

“Because you need me to reteach you all of calculus?” Peter teases sweetly, smile making his eyes sparkle.

Harley rolls his eyes, smiling back. “Believe it or not, I have missed you too. Not for your genius brain, somehow understanding how to do stupid calculus, but for you. You know I’ve gotten more detentions these last two years than ever before because of how often I’ve been caught texting you or just daydreaming about you.”

“I don’t want to put your education in jeopardy,” Peter says, mostly joking but there’s an undertone of guilt.

“You’re not. That’s all on me. I think I’m really the bad influence here, not you.”

“You’re really coming all the way to New York? Just for this weekend? Just because I said I was upset?”

Harley rolls his eyes again, smiling softly. “You really doubt me? The things I’d do for you, Peter Parker, are so much bigger and higher than flying out to see you for a weekend.”

“You’re too good for me.”

“You won’t be saying that when I get there and physically force you to sleep if I have to. I’ll be your self-care enforcer all weekend. Eight hours of sleep, no Spider-Man outings, the exact number of calories your metabolism needs, everything.”

The love that fills Peter’s expression is so open and whole that Harley’s chest starts to hurt again, the same aching, fullness like he can’t possibly fit this much love inside his heart.

They talk throughout the night about what they’ve missed over the past couple weeks, of school and friends and Spider-Man and Tony, catching up on each other’s lives, until eventually Peter looks like he might pass out if he stays up for a moment longer, and Harley has to pack for the weekend, so they say their quiet goodbyes, see you soon’s bleeding into their every sentence with unbearable amounts of fondness.

And the next day, after a few hours’ plane ride, Harley makes it to the New York airport, dropping his luggage to catch his boyfriend in a tight hug, they finally murmur the three words they’d been holding close to their chest, I love you leaving their mouths between kisses like a promise.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[whumphoarder]

¿Cómo se dice ‘I’m in Deep Sh*t’?

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances (and a bit of procrastination), Peter runs out of time to prepare for his Spanish presentation and ends up faking sick to buy himself some more.

He just wasn’t really counting on Tony being the one to pick him up from school.

Word count: 2,997

Genre: humor, fluff, whump

Link to read on Ao3

A/N: Based on a prompt from @coconutknightshade! 

Apparently it takes a village to write a story lol—thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx, @sallyidss, @fandomsficsandfeels, & @seek-rest for beta-reading and ideas, and @lunannex for Spanish help!

“What if I just like… fake my death?” Peter suggests as he hands his mentor a different sized wrench. “They can’t mark me down for not doing it if I’m dead, right?”

Tony, who is currently bent over their latest project (replacing the timing belt in May’s car), snorts. “As someone who’s been officially presumed dead more than once, can’t say I recommend it. Way too much paperwork.”

Peter sighs. “Can we stage a kidnapping then?” he says hopefully. “Or an alien abduction?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s a four-minute speech, not the end of the world—though I have some experience with that too.” He holds out a hand. “Half inch ratchet.”

“A four-minute speech in Spanish,” Peter emphasizes, passing him the requested tool. “Which is a language I don’t speak.”

“Hence why you’re in Spanish class,” Tony counters. “With all the other kids who can’t speak Spanish.”

“But it’s also like ten percent of my grade,” Peter goes on as his mentor loosens the timing belt and removes it from the engine before handing it to Peter to set aside. “And I have to talk about what I do in a typical week, and it’s not like I can say I go patrolling or come over to the compound, so I’m gonna have to make stuff up—”

Tony interrupts, “Yo veo mucha televisión,” he says sagely.

“—and then what if I get up there and forget everything and just sound stupid?” Peter continues his rant. He groans and passes Tony the replacement belt. “Maybe I should just conveniently get the flu on Wednesday.”

Looking up from the engine, Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you really this stressed about it? Because if you need to focus on school, I could just finish this up myself.”

Peter sighs again and runs a hand through his hair—he hadn’t meant to complain this much, he’d just kind of gotten on a roll after Tony asked him how school was going. “No, no… I wanted to come over—really. And I’ve got three more days to work on it, it’s just like… ugh. I should have taken German instead.”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Pretty sure they have to speak in German class too.”

“Yeah but MJ’s not in German…” Peter mutters under his breath.

“What was that?” Tony asks, elbow deep in the engine block.

Peter expels a breath. “Nothing, it’s fine,” he says a bit more audibly, trying to convince himself as much as his mentor. So what if the most observant and shrewd person in his year also happens to be in his Spanish class?

(And so what if he might have a bit of a crush on her?)

Tony chuckles. “You’ll do great, kid,” he assures. “Just make sure you practice.”

Peter forces a smile. “Right, yeah, of course.”

X

Practicing, however, turns out to be easier said than done.

With finals fast approaching, it’s crunch time for all of Peter’s classes. Whatever spare moments he has over the weekend are spent finishing up his Animal Farm essay for the English summative and cramming for his geometry test Monday morning. The upcoming Spanish presentation hangs over his head, but it’s more annoying than anything else. He figures it should be fairly simple to actually bullshit something and translate it if he just sits down and does it (which, ironically, somehow makes it easier to push off).

He’s intending to work on it Monday evening, but a winter storm hits that afternoon, dumping eight inches of snow and ice on the city. Peter spends most of his patrol assisting with minor traffic accidents and helping stranded motorists scrape ice from their vehicles or shovel cars out of parking spaces. By the time he gets home late that night, he’s too exhausted to do much more than sit on the couch with May and drink cocoa while she watches Grey’s Anatomy reruns.

Oh well. He’s still got time.

Peter tries to make good use of his study hall on Tuesday, but the period ends up being kind of a wash. He spends half the time attempting to come up with something to say that is both interesting enough to make him seem not totally lame while still believable enough to fool MJ, and the other half messing around on his phone and trying to recall the name of the annoying song stuck in his head.

(It was ‘Goodbye’ by The Spice Girls.)

He’s intending to finish the presentation Tuesday evening after he gets home, but then Ned throws an unexpected monkey wrench into his plans just before the final bell rings.

“So I gotta be there early for warm ups, but my mom will pick you up around six, okay?” he tells Peter as they pack up their book bags.

Peter frowns, confused. “...Pick me up?”

Ned tilts his head. “Unless May can give you a ride after all? But I thought you said she was working tonight, right?”

All of a sudden it clicks—tonight is Ned’s first band concert. He’d taken up percussion a few months back in an effort to beef up his extracurriculars for his college applications. Peter agreed to go to the performance weeks ago.

“Oh right right right,” Peter quickly covers. “Six is great. I’ll see her then!”

Ned beams. “Awesome! My sister and her boyfriend are coming too, so we might go out to celebrate afterwards!”

“Yeah, awesome!” Peter agrees, forcing a grin. “That should be really fun.”

(Oh yeah, he’s screwed.)

X

The concert was cool. Ned hit that triangle with all the required enthusiasm whenever his parts came up, and Peter flashed him loads of encouraging thumbs-ups from the audience. When it was over, they all went out to Denny’s for some mediocre late-night pancakes and the usual Leeds family banter. All in all, a pretty fun night.

When Peter gets home a little after ten, he opens his Spanish doc in one tab and promptly falls into a YouTube hole in another while looking for background music. He’s still grinning when he closes out of his fifth vine compilation video in a row until he checks the time a second later and the grin dissolves. It’s 12:03 a.m.

Oops.

Study hall Wednesday morning will be his saving grace, he’s sure.

X

So, of course, a fight has to break out right outside of the library.

It’s not too bad—the two instigating students are hauled away by security with a couple bloody noses and black eyes, and a few other kids are taken down to the office for questioning. Peter was far enough removed from the action that he doesn’t have to come along, but the whole debacle eats up all but the last ten minutes of the period so when the bell finally rings, he’s got precisely five words written down:

Hola, me llamo Peter Parker.

(Suddenly all those jokes about faking his own death are starting to sound a lot more appealing.)

Or if not my death, he thinks as he trudges down the hall in the direction of his Spanish classroom, cold dread pooling in his gut, then at least…

He stops walking, glancing sideways into the brightly lit office just off the hall. The elderly nurse is sitting at her desk, glasses half-way down her nose as she reads a paperback novel with the picture of a Christmasy log cabin on the cover.

No. He can’t. He doesn’t lie.

...Unless…

No. May’s at work. She’d have to leave early to come and pick him up.

Okay, but it’s not like you do this often, his brain counters. Hell, you came to school with a concussion and two cracked ribs last month and didn’t say a word about it. May can take one for the team just this once.

Peter slips into the bathroom across the hall and waits there until the bell rings to signal the end of passing period, and then an additional five minutes on top of that to add some credibility to his act. He splashes a bit of cold water on his forehead and around his neck, and then works himself up with some heavy breathing before exiting the bathroom.

Folding his arms over his stomach, Peter moves shakily across the hall back toward the nurse’s office, making an effort to look as unwell as possible. A passing student eyes him suspiciously and gives him a wide berth, so he figures he must be doing something right.

Steeling himself with a shuddery breath, he steps into the office.

“Hall pass?” the nurse asks without looking up from her book.

“Um, no, I don’t have one, uh…” Peter’s heart is fluttering in his chest. “I just… I’m not feeling good.”

Eyes still on the page, the nurse silently taps a finger to a sign on the wall just behind her desk which reads: PASSES REQUIRED FOR ALL STUDENTS.

Peter swallows hard. C’mon, Parker—commit. “Right, but, uh, I came from the bathroom.” He hugs himself a little tighter and looks down. “My stomach really hurts. I was throwing up and, uh… stuff,” he concludes, deciding that in this case, less is more.

The nurse’s expression softens. She lowers her novel and gets to her feet with a small sigh. “Well, there is a bug going around,” she concedes, gesturing for him to sit down on the cot in the back of her office.

Peter keeps his responses vague when she requests more specific information on his symptoms, mostly offering shrugs or short, mumbled answers. She checks his temperature and seems slightly suspicious at his lack of fever, but he makes up for it by getting up suddenly and darting into the nurse’s bathroom.

When he emerges—exactly seven minutes and two new levels of Candy Crush later—Peter makes sure to keep his eyes averted from the nurse’s gaze and his movements slow and a little unsteady, one hand hovering over his stomach. She gives him a bottle of Gatorade and a couple of crackers and tells him to lie down until May comes to pick him up.

“I got ahold of her,” the nurse informs, sounding more sympathetic now. She slides a small garbage bin beside the cot. “She says she’s just finishing something up at work and then she’ll be right over.”

“Thank you,” Peter mutters tiredly. He doesn’t even have to act for that part—between the stress of his upcoming finals and his last couple of late nights, he really is exhausted and he has a bit of a headache. It makes him feel just the slightest bit better about pulling May away from her shift that there’s at least something physically wrong with him, even if it isn’t what he’s claiming.

Under the thin fleece blanket the nurse gives him, Peter manages to drift off to sleep.

X

But it turns out, today is just really not his day.

“No fever yet, but sometimes with these kinds of bugs that doesn’t come until later,” Peter overhears the nurse explaining in a low voice. He’s lying curled up on the cot, face toward the wall. “If that happens, just remember that he needs to be fever-free for 24 hours before returning to school.”

“Oh, I have a feeling that won’t be a problem,” a familiar voice that definitely does not belong to Aunt May replies.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s eyes snap open fully and he sits up in a hurry.

Tony and the nurse are standing together beside her desk, chatting quietly. Tony turns to look at Peter, face straight but eyebrows raised in amusement. “Oh would you look at that—he lives,” he remarks. “Feeling any better, Pete?”

Immediately, Peter wraps an arm around his stomach and does his best to look ill. “Uh, no, not really... but, um wh-what are you doing here?”

“The hospital is a little short-staffed today and your aunt was having trouble finding someone to cover her shift,” Tony explains, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “She called to ask if I minded picking you up. You know”—his eyes narrow—“since you’re so sick.”

(Peter gulps. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he’ll be sick after all.)

“So of course, I told her I would,” Tony goes on. “I mean, if you’re feeling this bad, we could hardly just leave you here...”

Peter has to force himself to meet Tony’s gaze. “Right. Um, thank you. That’s super nice of you.”

“Well, you know me, Tony Super-Nice Stark,” his mentor says with a small chuckle as he steps closer to the bed.

“Now, with stomach bugs, the biggest concern is going to be dehydration,” the nurse continues. “So you’re going to want to push fluids, especially if he’s having di—”

“Fluids, got it,” Peter cuts her off, feeling his cheeks heat up. He gets to his feet and starts moving toward the door, but Tony halts him by grabbing his arm.

“Hey, hey, slow down, kid,” Tony tuts at him. “You were just looking like you might pass out a minute ago.” He presses his palm to Peter’s forehead and glances over to the nurse, eyebrows pinched together in the semblance of concern. “He’s kinda flushed, right? Maybe we should check his temperature again.”

“It’s fine,” Peter mutters, barely managing to suppress an eye-roll. “I think I just need to go home and sleep.”

“Sleep is probably the best thing for him,” the nurse agrees, nodding. “But going back to dehydration, if at any point it’s been more than five hours since he’s last urinated—”

“Mr. Stark, c’mon…” Peter whines quietly, nudging the man toward the door.

Tony holds up a finger to shush him—there’s a twinkle in his eyes that’s honestly driving Peter mad. “Hang on, kiddo. This is all very important information. In fact”—he pulls out his phone and opens the notes app—“let me just write this down. So you said if he hasn’t peed in five hours…?”

The nurse goes on to happily share her wealth of knowledge regarding stomach viruses with his mentor. Tony nods along to her advice, looking genuinely interested the entire time, occasionally interrupting to ask pertinent questions. Meanwhile, Peter just stands there, quietly dying a little inside.

Finally, she concludes her little spiel and Tony thanks her politely, then asks, “You wouldn’t happen to have a bin or bag or something we could take with us, would you? I just got the car detailed recently—hate for that to go to waste.”

Peter lets out another low groan. “Mr. Stark…”

“Ah, I have just the thing!” the nurse says. She bustles over behind her desk and produces a plastic sand pail with assorted Paw Patrol characters on it. “I get these from the dollar store,” she informs. “They don’t look like they hold too much but you’d be surprised!”

Tony grins. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Alice.” Looking to Peter, he asks, “Need the bathroom before we leave?”

Rolling his eyes at his mentor, Peter takes the bucket from the nurse with a muttered “thanks” and strides directly out the door.

X

Tony doesn’t say anything for the entire walk to the car, but Peter’s mind is happy to fill the silence with dread and anxious thoughts as he imagines all the various ways his mentor might chew him out about this. Stupid Spanish presentation—he should have just winged it after all.

The moment that both he and Tony are seated in the vehicle and the car doors are shut behind them, Peter sets the bucket down on the floor and covers his face with a groan.

“Alright, let’s get it over with,” he mutters into his hands. “Lay it on me.”

“Just to clarify,” Tony begins, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re not actually sick, right? This was just to get out of your presentation?”

“Yeah, I dunno...” Peter admits, feeling defeated. “I was planning to work on it—I swear. Just, well, there was all this stuff due for my other classes, and then the snowstorm, and all these commitments just kept coming up, and I just kinda... ran out of time. Figured if I got sent home I could buy myself an extra day or two.” He sighs deeply, lowering his hands to look up at his mentor. “Are you gonna tell May?”

Tony huffs out a short laugh. “Honestly? I think you’ve suffered enough.”

Peter blinks at him, surprised. “Wait, seriously?”

“You listened to a school nurse describe the BRAT diet for three whole minutes,” Tony says with a snort. “I don’t think any lecture May or I could give would top that.”

“God,” Peter groans, running a hand over his face. “If I hear the word ‘binding’ used one more time…”

“But,” Tony says, holding up a stern finger as he starts the car. “As soon as we get back to your place, we’re finishing up that presentation in time for your miraculous recovery tomorrow, got it?”

“We?” Peter raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you even speak Spanish?”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “I know French and Italian—close enough. More importantly, I am fluent in the language of bullshit, kid. I once convinced an entire board of investors that not adding a clock feature to the new Starkphone prototype was a philosophical statement about the ‘futility of time as a construct’ rather than an embarrassing oversight caused by deadline crunches, no sleep, and more caffeine flowing through my veins than red blood cells.”

“And how did that go?” Peter asks.

“Sold twelve thousand shares that day. And I got to meet the Dalai Lama.”

Peter just snorts.

“Oh, and there was this other time,” Tony goes on wryly, “when I helped my intern play hooky to get out of a school presentation by convincing the nurse he had the shits.”

Peter leans back against the seat with a heavy sigh. “I’m never doing this again, Mr. Stark,” he mumbles.

X

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[queenofspades20]

Scream 3

Here is Chapter 3 of Avengers AU of Scream for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho spooky challenge (I know I’m a bit late with this one. Been dealing with termites and the election, so motivation to write has been a bit lacking). Planning on final chapter to be up by the end of this week at the latest. I have Wednesday off from work, so plan on writing.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Weathers; Avengers x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: suspense, angst, curse words, inappropriate jokes, mentions of murder (this chapter is tame. Last chapter will have most of the gore)

CHAPTER 3 – Aftermath

When Natasha screamed, Bucky dropped the mask he had found by the front door in surprise. “Natasha! Are you okay?”

Natasha could barely get a word out. She merely pointed up the stairs. Officers ran past her and up the stairs. She heard Clint struggling with them as they took him into custody.

“Nat! It wasn’t me! Tell them!” Clint yelled at her as he and the officers moved outside.

Bucky ushered Natasha to his patrol car to take her to the station for a statement of what happened. When they got to the station, Bucky took her to an unused office, so that she could have some privacy. While giving her statement, Natasha looked out across the station and saw Clint standing with officers, being booked. Natasha didn’t want to believe Clint was capable of something like that. After finishing giving her statement, Wanda rushed into the room.

“Are you okay, Nat? Do they know who did it? You’re staying with me tonight. We’re not staying at your house.”

Natasha morosely looked at her best friend. “I was attacked at home. Clint came in just as the attacker disappeared. I don’t want to believe he did it, but he got there so fast.”

Wanda looked horrified. “I don’t think he would. He loves you too much.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Across the station, Clint and Chief Stark were talking. “Chief, I swear I didn’t attack Nat. I was coming to check on her because I knew she was freaked out over the murders last night. Between the anniversary of her mom, her dad being out of town for the weekend, and the murders, I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“Well, Wanda was coming over. She wasn’t going to be alone.”

“I didn’t know that. Nat hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Well, we’re checking your phone records to verify that you didn’t call her during the time she was being attacked. If your records check out, you’ll be free to go.”

Clint was anxiously shaking his leg. “How long will that take?”

“A few hours. We’re rushing it as best we can. We can’t just go by your phone because call logs can be deleted. We have to find out who is attacking and murdering people.”

Clint sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going home any time soon.

Natasha and Wanda were allowed to leave. Because there were so many reporters out front, Bucky led the girls out the back entrance. As they waited for Bucky to bring Wanda’s car to the back, a commotion could be heard from the front of building.

“Natasha! Is it true they caught the attacker?” Y/N ran towards Natasha, with her cameraman, Sam, keeping up behind. “Is there any connection to your mother’s death a year ago?”

Natasha felt herself go tense, wondering if she would ever get away from Y/N Weathers. “I heard your book is coming out.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ll send you a copy.”

Natasha reached back and threw a punch, straight at Y/N’s nose. “Bitch.”

Natasha could hear the clicking of cameras in the background. Wanda led Natasha to her car that had been pulled up.  “Let’s get out of here.”

Back at Wanda’s house, the girls were laying on the bed, snacking on popcorn. “That was awesome, Natasha.” Imitating Y/N’s voice, “I’ll send you a copy.” She hit the stuffed bear in her hand. “Bam! Natasha, badass.”

Natasha had some ice on her knuckles. “She just said so many horrible things about me when Bruce was arrested. She tried to make me seem like a liar. I know what I saw. I saw Bruce, wearing his coat, leaving the house. My mom was raped and murdered.”

Wanda looked at her friend, brows furrowed. “I know. She’s just a bitch reporter, trying to sell a story. You know what you saw.”

Natasha was scared that she wasn’t sure any more, but she wasn’t going to voice that fear out loud, even if she was certain Wanda would never judge her for it. “Yeah,” Natasha said weakly.

Wanda’s mom came into the room. “Hey Natasha, you have a call.”

“My dad?” Natasha said hopefully. The police still hadn’t been able to get in touch with him.

“I don’t think so.”

Natasha went downstairs and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, Natasha. You got the wrong guy. Poor Clint. It seems to be a theme with you, id’ing the wrong guy.”

Natasha dropped the receiver and backed away, her hand over her mouth. She felt tears gather in her eyes. Wanda’s mom saw her and called for Bucky. Bucky rushed out with his gun out, thinking there was an intruder. He picked up the receiver. “Hello?” There was nothing but a dial tone.

The next day at school, there was a media circus outside of the school. Natasha was determined to get just inside and not talk to anyone. As she made her way inside with Wanda, they ran into Thor.

“Hey, Thor,” Natasha said. “Have you seen Clint?”

“They let him out early this morning. He’s heartbroken,” Thor said, as he was pulling Wanda into a hug.

A yell tore through the hallway and someone dressed in costume ran through the hall.

“Why are they doing this?” Natasha demanded, upset. She had flashes of the night before when she had to fight for her life.

“What are you talking about? This is like Christmas!” Thor exclaimed.

Natasha stormed off, heading towards the bathroom. As she turned the corner, she crashed into a body.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Natasha said, not yet looking up to see who she crashed into.

“It’s okay,” Clint said.

Natasha’s head jerked up. “Clint. I. . . I heard you got released this morning.”

“Yeah. The phone records cleared me.”

Natasha nodded her head. She was scared of what the arrest would mean for their relationship. Things had been rocky and this could put them past a point where they couldn’t come back from. She couldn’t quite look Clint in the eye. “Clint, I am sorry.”

Clint held up his hand. “Nat, I get it. You had just been attacked.”

Natasha felt herself tear up. “Still, I should trust you. I mean, we’ve been together long enough that I should’ve known you’d never hurt me.”

“I think you need to move past your mom’s death. I mean, my mom’s gone and I moved past it.”

Natasha stopped and started getting mad. “Your mom left. She’s not buried in a cemetery somewhere.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I gotta go.” Natasha stormed off.

Clint slapped his hand to his face. “Stupid!”

After school, Natasha, Wanda, and Thor were walking. “Party at my place!” Thor exclaimed. “Thanks, Nat for making this all possible!”

Cheers could be heard from students around them.

Later on, Natasha and Wanda were sitting on Natasha’s porch, talking about everything that was going on, before going to the party.

“Nat, how are you, really? I know you like to give off this whole I’m-okay-nothing-phases-me vibe, but you were attacked and it’s close to the anniversary of your mother’s death.” Wanda looked at her friend, concerned.

Natasha just stared out into the yard. “I’m not okay. Even though she’s a raging bitch, Y/N Weathers has made some good points during her coverage of my mom’s murder. I saw a person wearing Bruce’s coat leaving. What if I was made to think that? I was so sure he killed my mom. He admitted to having an affair with her. What the attacker said last night on the phone? It sounded like they knew something about the murder.”

“Maybe they were just trying to get into your head. Which it appears they did. Nat, you know what you saw.”

“I guess,” Natasha hesitantly said. “I just wish I knew for certain. There’s still the trial coming up. If he didn’t do it, as the attacker suggested, then I don’t want to be the reason the wrong person is in jail. And nevermind that he’s been in jail all this time.”

“Nat, you told police what you saw. There’s so much evidence that connects him to the crime. You shouldn’t feel guilt. What matters is that you tell the truth.”

“The truth? The truth, and what I told police, is that I saw a person wearing Bruce’s jacket leaving the motel where my mother was found. I know my parents weren’t in a great place towards the end and that’s why I followed her that night. I saw her go in with Bruce wearing the jacket. And I’m sure it was him because I saw his face. I left for a while and when I came back, I saw someone wearing the same jacket leaving. I didn’t see the face that time.” Natasha groaned in frustration. “But Bruce admitted to being there. He says he doesn’t remember leaving or how he got home. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Wanda looked at her friend with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Nat. I know this is hard for you. Still no word from your dad?”

“No. And that’s the other thing that’s stressing me out. Dad is always good about checking in. He didn’t check in after his flight and the hotel is saying he never checked in. That’s not like him at all. I’m scared something happened to him.”

Wanda moved over and hugged her friend. “I’m sure he’ll show up safe. He might have just gotten distracted, maybe with that violinist you told me about?”

“Maybe,” Natasha said, unconvinced. She sighed and made up her mind. “Let’s get ready for the party. I need to get my mind off all this fucked-up shit going on, even if just for a night.”

With that, the girls went back into the house to get ready for the party.

Across the town, Thor was at the liquor store, talking to Loki. The store was filled with customers. “It seems a bit crazy in here, Lokes.”

“Don’t call me that. And of course it’s busy. There’s a city curfew and an unknown killer on the loose. People need to stock up on provisions before shutting themselves in for the night.” Loki rolled his eyes at his brother and continued to stock the shelves.

“You going to make it to the party?”

“Of course, I’m off early.” Loki looked over to where Clint was standing, chatting with a few people from school by the store’s Halloween display that was made up of photographs of classic slasher movie icons, including Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, and Freddy Kreuger. “If you were the town’s only suspect in a senseless bloodbath, would you be standing next to the Halloween display?”

“What, he didn’t do anything?” Thor said, confused.

“You’re such a little lapdog. He’s got killer printed all over his forehead.”

“Why’d the cops let him go then, smart guy?” Thor challenged Loki.

“Because obviously the cops haven’t watched enough horror movies. This is standard horror movie stuff.”

“Why would he want to kill his girlfriend?”

“There’s always some bullshit reason to take out the girlfriend. Maybe she wouldn’t sleep with him. It’s all about the simplicity of the reason. If you get too complicated, you lose your target audience.”

“So, what, you think Natasha is saving herself for you?” Thor said with a laugh.

“You think Nat would sleep with me?” Loki said, hopefulness in his eyes.

Thor started laughing heartily. After Loki stared at him for a few moments, Thor stopped laughing. “No. I don’t think she would at all,” Thor said, seriously.

“Who do you think it is then, if you’re so smart, Thor?”

“I think it’s her father. I mean, why can’t they find her?”

“Because he’s probably dead. His body will probably pop up in the last scene somewhere. Eyes gouged out,” Loki said, getting louder. “Fingers cut off. Teeth knocked out.” Loki was practically yelling at this point.

Thor looked at him in a panic and tried to quiet him down.

“See, the movies always try to throw you off their scent with this shit. Prom Night revisited. There’s a formula to it! A very simple formula! Everybody’s a suspect!” The store was quiet at this point.

Loki turned away to put more stuff on the shelves behind him. “I’m telling you, the father is a red herring. Clint did it.” Loki bumped into Clint, who grabbed Loki by the shirt.

“How do we know you’re not the killer, Loki?” Clint said, with a dangerous look on his face.

“You don’t,” Loki said, timidly.

“Maybe your movie-freaked mind lost its reality. You ever think of that?”

“You’re right. If this were a movie, I’d be the prime suspect. I’m the first to admit it.”

Thor moved behind Loki and hung himself on Loki’s shoulders. “What would be your motive, Brother?”

Loki turned to look at Thor. “It’s the millennium. Motives are incidental.”

Clint smiled and patted Loki on the cheek. “That’s a good one.”

As Clint walked away, Loki looked at his brother. “You’re telling me that isn’t a killer?”

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Gyroids clad in plaid

It’s gyroid hunting time and we’ve got a busy week ahead! Emilie’s back at the camp with a familiar face - Kat - and two new faces - Amy and Natara. Dixie’s joining us too, though she won’t be here until the day after tomorrow. 

It’s nice to see Emilie again, especially since we had so much fun at the last gyroid hunt. She’s doing a lot better as she extended her short break from work for a few months longer and time has been good for her. While she’s not working at her main job, Emilie’s been focusing on hobbies, self care, and the agency - her side gig. In fact, she’s been strongly thinking about leaving the bureau and transferring to Dixie’s agency as an agent. 

Considering how stressful working in the FBI is and how it’s been burning her out, I think it’s a good idea for Emilie to step down. Also with people like Rocky, Lex, Kat, and Jamie on the team, I know she'll fit right in. 

The thing is that it’s gig based so on one hand, you’re not working 40 + hours a week, but you might have times when you’re in the office for six months and then spend the next six months globe hopping. But it’s super flexible and since it’s not like a full time job, it leaves you with plenty of time to focus on other stuff when you’re not on a mission. So those kind of hours might appeal to some and detract others. In Emilie’s case, I think that’s a plus for her.

Even though she’s not doing field work, Emilie’s busy training two new recruits who were handpicked by Dixie - Natara Lakshmi and Amy Leang. Both are students at Spectrum University studying in psychology and computer science respectively. If Dixie chose you to join her team, then it’s a big deal. 

Up until today, I never got to really know Natara and Amy that well. All I knew is that they’re friends of Jamie and Delanie so our circles kinda overlapped, but never really meeting up completely. I’m glad that after all these years, our paths finally crossed!

Natara’s an aspiring criminal profiler who not only has strong intuition, but she can also ready people like a book. She began taking an interest in criminology after she and her friends managed to thwart a crooked businessman’s attempt at taking over her father’s company. Although she saved her father’s name, Natara lost his respect as she disobeyed him and put herself in danger. 

While her friends are happy that Dixie recruited her - a dream come true for Natara - her family’s not so keen on it. Growing up in a strict Asian family it sometimes feels like you’re twice as pressured to pursue your own ambitions and meet your parents’s expectations. If they contradict each other, you can’t help but blame yourself because you shouldn’t have to struggle so much to gain approval.

At least for Amy, her family’s a lot more supportive. But the pressure to succeed is just as high, as well as the pressure to excel. Her mom works as a data analyst, which is what Amy wants to do too, except instead of finances, she’s interested in law. 

Amy’s also a self taught hacker and was notorious for clearing her school’s name when they were accused of leaking test answers. She also played a role in helping Natara take down her father’s rival and was partially responsible for taking down a criminal hacker group - both happened when she was in high school. In short, Amy’s got an interesting history as a vigilante hacker, which I’m pretty sure was what caught Dixie’s eye.

And there’s Kat, who’s been having a crazy year so far. From having to take her mother’s place as queen, becoming a prisoner in space, getting her friends out of trouble multiple times, ending a long war, and reuniting with her presumed dead father - it’s a lot for anyone to handle. Though compared to her father and brother - who never met each other until then - Kat feels like she’s the least disoriented out of the three.

Reuniting with someone you thought was dead for almost two decades is as jarring as it sounds. While things are a bit awkward as Kat’s dad still sees her as a little girl he’s slowly adjusting to having not only one but two almost grown kids. I still can’t get over the image of Micah - the kind of guy who runs headfirst into trouble - hiding behind his sister like a little kid after seeing his father for the first time.

The elder Micah’s adjusting well for someone who was thrown to the frontlines after a long absence - or at least that’s how he comes across to everyone. Now that things have settled down Kat thinks the full impact of everything that has happened is finally getting to him. Since then he’s been keeping himself busy by making up for lost time, which according to Kat’s aunt, is his way of avoiding dealing with his own problems. 

After confirming that he’s in fact not okay, Kat, Micah, and their friends staged a coup by forcing him to do absolutely nothing for a month, which he wasn’t too keen on. So they threatened to lock him in his room and tie him down to the bed if they have to. In the end he gave in so now he’s trying to relax as well as make up for sixteen years worth of lost time with his son. 

Kat would’ve invited her friends and family to join us for the gyroid hunt but they’re all obviously busy. Everything’s still a bit of a chaotic mess, but it's nothing that Kat and the others can’t handle.

So the theme for this event is a cozy plaid aesthetic, which is totally my thing! After the success of the matcha mint gyroids, Reese and Cyrus enlisted Daisy Jane to help design the furniture we’ll be building with the gyroids. Knowing Daisy Jane, this kind of aesthetic’s totally in her element!

First stop is Lost Lure Creek, where we took the time to catch some fish as my inventory was running low. We had a pretty early start so we’re in no rush to collect gyroids. Plus it’s nice to sit down and hang out with the campers. There were a lot of gyroids hanging from trees so Emilie and Kat had a lot of fun swinging branches as well as finding special fruit and bells hidden under the leaves.

Next stop was the Market Place, where we met up with Isabelle, Tommy, and Timmy. I don’t normally drop by there on a regular basis during my rounds but for gyroid events, it’s a must. It’s also a good thing that we did because Natara found a book that Pecan dropped yesterday. Sometimes there’s a lot of gyroids lying around and sometimes there’s none. We lucked out today!

Then we went to Sunburst Island, where we went bug catching with Bea. I might have gotten a bit distracted with the horned dynastids but I had to catch them in order to shake the trees to get the gyroids so either way I get both. Kat was fascinated by the butterflies, Amy helped Gulliver log in his inventory, and Daisy Jane taught Emilie and Natara how to make flower crowns.

At Saltwater Shores we collected shells, went fishing, and harvested coconuts. There weren’t a lot of gyroids hanging around so we went for a swim for about an hour. Daisy Jane almost went overboard after catching a king red snapper so it took me, Emilie, Kat, Natara, Amy, and Buck to keep her feet on the ground. Looks like we’ll be having a big campfire dinner tonight!

After taking our well deserved break and making a quick stop at the campsite to drop off the big catch, off we headed to Breezy Hollow. I normally stop here at the end so I can restock on fruit without having to go back and forth between hangout sites. Today not only happened to be full of gyroids, but perfect fruit as well! While the others went picking fruit and wildflowers, I restocked my marketplace with grapes and crafting materials. I also bought some lychee and lemons for tonight’s bonfire.

Last stop is OK Motors, a place that I don’t visit too often unless my RV needs tuning up, someone lost something over there, or if I just want to hang out with Beppe, Giovanni, and Carlo. Like the Market Place, gyroids sometimes pop up here and there. Emilie, Kat, Natara, and Amy took turns playing Brake Tapper - Natara won the most caps with Emilie coming in  a close second. Amy did fairly well while Kat was all over the place. 

Maybe one day I’ll finally have enough caps to trade them in for a t-shirt. But right now I’m more interested in collecting plaid gyroids. Gotta make some trips to Shovelstrike Quarry sometime this week - with a group as big as ours, it won’t take too long for us to get in.

Then it’s back to either the campsite or cabin where we just hang out for a couple hours before going back out to hunt for more gyroids. At the campsite Amy taught Daisy Jane the basics of building a website - which will be very useful for her in the future. Kat showed off some cool spells she learned from her dad, including a fireworks one that’s perfect for tonight. Natara made coconut mango lassi while Emilie baked brownies and I made a pasta salad.

We had a pretty good haul today - not enough to build furniture yet, but it’s a good start. It was a busy but also a kinda chill day. It’s nice seeing Emilie and Kat again and just having a great time with them. 

At the bonfire Emilie and KK put together an impromptu show that was fun to watch. Celeste and Natara took turns looking for constellations and nebulas. Kat showed us how to manipulate fireworks into cool shapes (and accidentally caused a few small explosions here and there - nothing serious though, it’s just something that happens from time to time). Amy, Goldie, and Kitt went looking for shells, gyroids, and whatever treasures that were buried in the sand. 

While sitting by the waves I can see Daisy Jane sitting by a coconut tree, both of us scribbling in our journals while the memories of today are still fresh in our minds. Book in lap, pages full of words and sketches, ink smudged hands with an uncapped pen, plaid gyroids lying in the sand or hanging from a branch above, all illuminated by the moonlight.