#while still doing tons of awesome science stuff with Tony and Bruce of course

[iffeelscouldkill]

Fic: a Film by Peter Parker

Fandom: Spider-Man: Homecoming

Pairing: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker (Spideychelle)

Summary: “Hi everyone. I’m Peter Parker, and this is my documentary presentation. The title is 'Perseverance'.

“I mostly think that the film speaks for itself, so I’m just gonna hit play, and uh, I’m happy to answer any questions afterwards about the footage, the editing, the choice of shot or well, anything, really.”

“And uh, even though they’re not here, I’d like to thank my close friends and family for putting up with me while I shoved a camera in their faces for three months.”

Peter is given an assignment to make a documentary film about the people closest to him. In the process, he learns some things about priorities, the people he cares about, and life beyond Spider-Man. Set two years after Spider-Man: Homecoming.

Author’s Note: This fic took me four months to finish and I was really unsure about how good it was. However, I got some lovely comments on AO3 (where you can also read it) and so felt confident enough to cross-post it over here :D

“All right, class, listen up – I’m going to give you your main assignment for the semester.” Gloria Steinberg, the teacher leading Midtown Tech’s film-making elective, clapped her hands for attention. The small class of ten senior students paused their discussions and refocused their attention on Ms. Steinberg.

“Thank you. Okay, so, here’s what I want you to do.” Ms. Steinberg uncapped her marker and wrote ‘DOCUMENTARY FILM PROJECT’ on the whiteboard. “This is going to be an ongoing, individual project that I want each of you to carry out. I want you to make a documentary film about the people closest to you in your lives.

“This can be family, friends, or anyone important to you. I want you to tell a story with this film; it’s up to you what that story will be. The key challenge that I’m going to set you is to capture a more natural, unguarded side of your subjects – a side that they don’t normally show to the camera.

“Think about the techniques we’ve been learning about in this class; think about the way that the filmmakers we’ve been studying weave a narrative with their documentaries. I also want you to bear in mind the technical side of things – shot framing, editing, lighting, everything we’ve covered. Now is your chance to put theory into practice!

“At the end of the semester, you’ll screen your films in front of the class, and give a short presentation about the process of making your documentary, the challenges you encountered, and the thinking behind the piece that you have made.

“Any questions?”

“Oh. Uh, are you filming now?”

The camera comes into focus on Ned Leeds’ face, leaning a little too close to the lens. Peter Parker’s voice is heard from behind the camera.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m filming.”

Ned pulls back slightly and grins, waves at the camera. “Hey! I’m Ned, Ned Leeds. I’m Peter’s best friend. Uh… What else should I say?”

“You don’t need to say anything, Ned. My assignment is to try and capture a natural side of people. So just pretend like the camera isn’t there.”

“Oh! Right.”

Ned moves away, into the middle of Peter’s bedroom, but carries on shooting glances back at the camera.

“You know, it’s kind of hard to act natural when you’re pointing it at me.”

“Right, right… Maybe I’ll set it up on a tripod.”

The camera jostles as it is set up in a corner, looking out over the room. A big space has been cleared in the centre of the room to make way for what will be a massive model: the Ultimate Collector’s Millennium Falcon, totalling 5,195 pieces. The box sits off to one side, and Ned reaches for it now, reverently admiring the design on the front.

“This is it… One of the most challenging Lego sets of all time.”

Peter crawls into shot, and motions towards the box.

“Shall we?”

“After you, my friend.”

Peter opens the box and starts laying out Lego pieces on the floor. Ned watches with his chin propped on one hand.

“Do you think we’ll ever get too old for building Lego models?”

Peter looks back at him in consternation.

“Why would we?”

“I dunno… like, we’re high school seniors now; we’re submitting college applications, thinking about our futures, all that serious stuff. But we still build Legos like we did in middle school. Do you think we’re supposed to stop at some point, to qualify as adults?”

“If that’s qualifying as an adult, then I don’t want to be one. Anyway, when we were in freshman year, one of the biggest things I learned about being Spider-Man was that I still needed to take the time to do normal kid things. Our whole lives shouldn’t be about serious, world-ending stuff – we need to balance that out.

“And besides, this is fun!”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Ned grins, and the two of them exchange their secret handshake. Then Peter looks over at the camera in the corner.

“Oops… I should probably edit out that part about being Spider-Man.”

“Probably.”

“Hey, Aunt May, do you mind if I film this?”

May looks up in surprise from where she’s laying out vegetables on the chopping-board.

“For your project?”

“Yeah, plus I think it’s really cool, you doing cookery classes and all.”

May smiles and goes to the sink to wash her hands.

“Well, we’ll see how they go. I have to do something with my time, what with you off to college in a few months!”

“I don’t have to leave. I can stay here in New York with you.”

May frowns, pausing with the knife poised above the carrots she is about to chop. The light catches the fine lines around her eyes, and highlights the grey hairs that are beginning to appear.

“Don’t be silly, Peter, of course you’re going to college. It’s your future! You’re going to go off and have an adventure, and come back even more clever and talented than you already are. Besides, all your friends are going to college.”

“Yeah, but… you’ll be on your own. And what about… you know… my extra-curriculars? It could be a bad idea to leave the city.”

May fixes the camera with a stern gaze. “New York got along perfectly fine before you started your ‘extra-curriculars’, and it’ll continue to be fine with you gone – and so will I. You’ve done amazing things and helped a lot of people, but you should be allowed to live your own life. You can’t be beholden to this city forever.

“Now, am I going to demonstrate my baton-chopping technique for the camera, or not?”

“Demonstrate away.”

The camera zooms in on the chopping-board, bringing the colourful assortment of vegetables into sharp focus: carrots, onions, red peppers, lettuce and celery. May begins to chop the carrots into neat batons of equal length, narrating as she does so.

“Now, the instructor said that the key to this is not to raise the knife too high when chopping – it’s all about efficient, controlled movements…”

“Is there a reason that you’re currently pointing a camera in my face?”

Michelle Jones, seated at a laptop and typing rapidly, doesn’t spare a glance to the side as she speaks. The camera falters slightly.

“I’m working on a project. For film class.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah – we’ve got to make a documentary about the most important people in our lives.”

MJ raises one eyebrow, still typing without missing a beat.

“I’m honoured to be included in that category.”

“Of course you’re included!”

The pout in Peter’s voice is audible even from behind the camera. MJ’s lips twitch into a barely-noticeable smile.

The camera zooms in slightly on the laptop screen as it fills up with lines of text. Fidgeting sounds can be heard from behind the camera.

MJ sighs.

“You know, I’m pretty sure that cinematographers are supposed to be more patient when filming their subjects.”

“What are you writing?”

“My application piece for the journalism scholarship at Boston University.”

The camera moves around to focus on the laptop screen; Peter reads the title aloud.

“‘The Fight to Preserve New York’s Public Libraries in the Digital Age’.”

“It’s a long-form feature. I’ve been carrying out interviews with librarians all around the area.”

“MJ… This is brilliant. It’s so detailed!”

“It’s just an outline.” MJ’s cheeks look a little pinker than usual.

“It’s a really good outline.”

The camera pulls back again to take in MJ, focused intently on the screen as she types, and for a while, nothing is heard except the sound of tapping keys.

“Don’t you have college applications to work on?”

“Yeah… I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m still trying to figure out if this whole college thing is for me.”

MJ’s typing halts abruptly. She turns and levels the camera with a look of alarm that borders on threatening.

“What do you mean? I thought you were applying to MIT with Ned?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Is it a funding thing? Does your aunt have enough money to put you through college?”

“Yeah, a lot of my, um, uncle’s legacy has gone towards my college fund. And Tony says he’ll chip in too. We have enough.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“I just don’t know if I can leave Aunt May. Or New York.”

“Oh. You’re worried because you won’t be around to Spidey it up any more?”

“Y-yeah, pretty much.”

MJ turns back to her laptop and resumes typing, a little more slowly than before.

“Just because you have superpowers doesn’t mean you can’t live your life. New York will deal. Presumably it managed somehow before you became Spider-Man.”

“Aunt May said the same thing.”

“Well, if you won’t listen to her, god knows why you’d listen to me.” MJ hits a couple of keys with extra force. “Whatever, it’s your choice. Do you have enough footage, or do you need to spend some more time breathing down the back of my neck while I work?”

“Uh, I think I have enough.”

“Hey, kid. You making another one of your video diaries?”

“Yeah, uh, this one’s for school. So it’d be cool if you could not make any pervy comments this time.”

“Well, is your aunt going to watch it? I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m a married man, now, see? I’m putting all my immoral ways behind me.”

Tony Stark raises one of his hands, which are currently the central focus of the shot, to show off a gleaming metal band around his ring finger. It has a twisting, geometric design in the centre that vaguely resembles the shape of Iron Man’s faceplate.

“I know – I was there. I still can’t believe you had your wedding rings made from vibranium.”

“Hey, I don’t wed with just any old ring. This is one of the strongest, most resilient metals in the galaxy, perfectly crafted to withstand any-”

A shower of sparks flies up from where Tony is tinkering with a near-unidentifiable mass of circuitry and wiring. A rectangular plate of sapphire glass lying off to one side suggests it might have started out life as a StarkPhone.

“-lab accidents.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Tony nudges apart the two bare wires that had accidentally connected, and then picks up a solder wick and soldering iron, touching both to a component on the circuit board and de-soldering it. He uses a pair of pliers to flip it away and onto the lab bench.

“You know, this is a classified design you’re filming.”

“Really? It doesn’t look like much to me.”

“Harsh, kid. Very harsh. This right here is genius in the making.”

Tony quickly loses himself in his work, paying no heed to the camera as it moves around him, capturing different angles: the side of his face as he frowns in concentration; a long-distance shot of Tony amidst his cluttered workshop surroundings; close-ups of the tools on the bench, being picked up and set down.

After a long while, Peter’s voice ventures from behind the camera.

“Mr… er, Tony?”

“Mmmm?”

“You went to MIT, right?”

“When I was fifteen, yeah. Great place. You should go there.”

“But like… what if you’d been Iron Man back then, would you still have gone to college?”

Tony straightens up at that, reaching for a rag on the workbench and wiping his hands on it.

“Kid, if I’d been Iron Man at fifteen, my whole life would have been pretty different, so it’s kind of hard to say yes or no on that one. But if I hadn’t gone to MIT, I wouldn’t have met Rhodey, wouldn’t have learned… a lot of shit that turned out to be pretty important – and I’m talking about life stuff, not what they teach you in class – and I wouldn’t have had an outlet for a lot of things, either.

“Would superheroing have given me that instead? Maybe, some of it. But it would have taken me down a pretty different path, and… Okay, just to be clear, we’re talking about you being Spidey instead of going to college, right? That’s what this is about?”

“I mean, just hypothetically speaking…”

“Yeah, sure, asking for a friend, blah blah blah. Look, the superhero gig isn’t everything – I thought we established that one a while ago. You decided to keep it low-key for a couple more years, be ‘friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man’, have a balance in your life. Right? It was a good decision; I supported that decision.”

“Yeah… But four years is a long time.”

“It is a long time. Look, I didn’t really prep for a far-reaching emotional discussion today, but the bottom line is that either way, there’s gonna be stuff you wish you’d done.”

“I guess that’s true. Uh, thanks, Tony.”

“Don’t mention it. But if you want decent life advice, Pepper is a better bet. Even for stuff that you’d think I should know about. She’s still better.”

The Millennium Falcon is taking shape, with the base and most of the forward mandibles completed. The camera captures Peter and Ned piecing it together slowly, sprawled on the floor of Peter’s bedroom, in breaks between assignments and Decathlon quizzing and stress.

Sometimes, they just mess around, picking up the little Lego figurines of Luke Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi, Princess Leia and Han Solo and acting out scenes from Star Wars, pitching their voices in an imitation of the characters’ dialogue.

It’s peaceful. Normal.

MJ again, seated in her favourite spot by the library window with the sunlight haloing her head. She is bent over a book, golden sun rays intertwining with the curly brown strands that hang down over her face.

Slowly, she turns the page, appearing deep in concentration and completely unaware that she’s being filmed, her expression relaxed and at ease.

Then, deliberately, she raises one hand with her middle finger clearly displayed. Peter’s snorts of laughter can be heard from behind the camera.

“Wow, this looks so good!”

May Parker half-glances back towards the camera, busy adjusting the heat on the stove.

“I hope so. It’s a bit more ambitious than the stuff I’ve tried so far, but I thought – we both love Thai food, and this is a Thai-inspired stir-fry…”

“It looks awesome.”

May drops ingredients into the saucepan, which smokes slightly. “It’s okay, that’s supposed to happen.”

She turns away from the pan, intently studying the recipe book open on the counter, and reaching for a jar of Thai green curry paste. In the corner of the frame, something bright and yellow flares to life.

“May! The spoon!”

The wooden stirring spoon, which May left propped up against the gas ring, has caught fire.

“Oh! OH! Oh god, oh god-”

“May, it’s fine, just drop it in the sink-”

“Peter, could you switch that thing off, please, and come help-”

The camera tilts wildly, a crackling sound is heard, and the recording abruptly shuts off.

A blurry Peter and MJ are talking together some distance away from the camera. They slowly come into clearer focus, the camera held less steadily than usual, as if by an inexpert hand. Ned Leeds’ voice narrates in hushed tones from behind the camera.

“And here we see a wild Peter and MJ in their natural habitat, performing another complex mating ritual.”

MJ is sitting by the window again, reclining in one of her favourite library loungers with her laptop balanced on her knees. She looks up at Peter with an expression that’s torn between amusement and annoyance. Peter is on his feet, all restless energy, fiddling with a pen in one hand and obviously talking a mile a minute.

“Let’s take a closer look.”

The camera moves slowly towards the couple before eventually coming to a stop behind what appears to be a bookcase; the wooden edge of it obscures part of the shot. Peter and MJ blur in and out as the camera tries to decide what to focus on, until Ned zooms unsteadily past the bookcase and the two fill the whole frame. The microphone picks up their speech alongside Ned’s slightly heavy breathing.

“-Right.”

“Plus, y’know, I could really do with more footage for my documentary film project, and I thought it would be amazing to capture you out doing your reporter thing – plus, you could even edit and submit the video with your piece, y’know, to show some TV reporting experience-”

“The application rules specify text submissions only.”

“Oh… okay, I guess that wouldn’t be helpful, then.”

MJ sighs audibly.

“Fine, you can come with me to my interview this weekend.”

“Really?” Even from a distance, Peter looks about to vibrate out of his skin with excitement.

“Sure, but only if Meredith is okay with you filming her. Some people are weird about being on camera, and if she’s at all uncomfortable with it, you’re out.”

“Of course, MJ, no problem, thank you so much!”

MJ shakes her head in exasperation, but the expression is tempered with fondness.

“Don’t you have other people to follow around with your camera? I don’t know why you need to spend so much time on me.”

“I do follow other people around! I mean- not follow them- I do film other people. I filmed Aunt May making dinner the other night.”

“Really? How did that go?”

“Um… There was a small fire, and the stir-fry got burnt while we were putting it out. We wound up going out to eat.”

MJ laughs, and the adoring expression on Peter’s face is plain as he smiles with her.

“No, I just- I like filming you because you do interesting stuff. And, uh, I love to see you getting passionate over things that are important to you.”

There is a soft, open expression on MJ’s face which would surprise anyone who noticed it – anyone except Ned, who sees this expression quite often, and always directed towards Peter.

“Fascinating.”

It’s immediately obvious that Ned chose the wrong moment to continue his documentary-style voiceover, as Peter’s head whips around, honing in on the source of the noise.

“NED!”

“Damn spider senses!” The camera bounces up and down as Ned sprints for his life, Peter’s thundering footsteps close behind him.

“Ned! Don’t shout that in the library! And be careful with that camera – it’s not mine!”

The middle of a busy street in New York. The camera captures the back of MJ’s head as she weaves through the crowd.

“Keep up, loser.”

The camera jostles slightly as Peter quickens his footsteps to catch up to MJ. He pans to the left and the right, taking in the buildings looming either side of them.

“We’re broadcasting live from the middle of New York with intrepid reporter Michelle Jones, who is hot on the heels of her latest story-”

“Peter!”

“What?”

The camera abruptly swivels around to find MJ, standing in the doorway of a dilapidated two-storey building and beckoning impatiently.

“If you’re done being an even bigger dork than usual, we’re here.”

“I thought it wasn’t possible for me to be a bigger dork than I already am?”

“So did I, but you continue to surprise me.”

MJ leads the way across a dingy, but tidy white tiled foyer towards a reception desk with a petite young Latina woman sitting behind it.

“Hey, Ella. I’m here to talk to Meredith – she should be expecting me.”

The camera zooms in slightly on Ella, who nods at MJ but looks at the camera warily.

“Yeah, she said you’d be by. Who’s this?”

MJ directs a look of irritation at the camera.

“Hey, would you turn that thing off for two seconds?”

“Sorry, sorry!”

In the next shot, Michelle is sat across from an older, dark-skinned woman with braids swept up into a bun on top of her head. They are seated inside a cramped, dimly-lit back office lined with filing cabinets; a few faded posters are visible on the walls, advertising reading competitions from five or ten years ago.

Meredith shoots a glance at the camera. “Okay? Are we good to go?”

“Yep! We are rolling!”

MJ gives Peter a withering look as she pulls out a notepad and pen from the backpack by her feet. She sets a small, old-fashioned dictaphone on one of the filing cabinets next to them.

“Okay. Could you just give your name for the recording?”

“My name is Meredith Felix-Lynch.”

“Thanks, Meredith. And how long have you been head librarian at Dunlop Library?”

Ned’s bedroom this time, which he shares with his ten-year-old brother; Star Wars figurines and miniature Lego models jostle for space with Pokémon plushies and Choose Your Own Adventure novels on the shelves.

Ned sits in the middle of the floor, using a screwdriver to tighten an access panel on the underside of a small, round droid, which looks like BB-8 with wheels. He flips it right-side up and sets it on the ground, next to where Peter is sprawled, eye-level with the little robot. Peter has had a haircut since the last time the two were on camera, and Ned is sporting stubble across his upper lip that has aspirations of being a moustache.

“You know, you could have taken part in this contest with me, if you were still in Robotics Lab.”

“Yeah, I know. I thought about it, but I’m still not ready to take back on everything I was doing before I became Spider-Man. Between patrolling, my assignments and MJ riding my ass at Decathlon practice, I’ve got about as much as I can handle.”

“Wouldn’t it help with your college application, though?”

Peter clears his throat.

“Why don’t you show me what this thing can do?”

Ned picks up a boxy black remote controller from the floor. It resembles a gaming controller, to the point where it might have started out life as one and then gained a lot of extra buttons and dials.

“For the contest, we need to be able to demonstrate three types of independent movement, so…”

Ned pushes down on one of the analogue sticks. Lights on the little droid flare into life, and it begins to trundle forward with a whirring noise.

“Coooool.”

“And the head can move, like this-”

The droid swivels its head from side to side, as if looking for the source of a noise.

“It doesn’t have any arms, because you remember what happened in middle school with the Robotics Showdown-”

“They snapped off, yeah.”

“Right, so the third type of independent movement is…”

Frowning now in concentration, Ned pushes down hard on a large blue button on the controller, while manipulating the analogue stick at the same time. A noise like a laptop fan running at hyper-speed can be heard, and Peter recoils slightly as his hair is ruffled by a sudden breeze. Slowly, the droid lifts off from the ground until it is hovering a fraction above the floor.

“Oh my god, Ned, you made it fly!”

The boys are shouting now to be heard above the noise of the boosters.

“Pretty cool, right? But you have to be careful, because it overheats really quickly and when that happens-”

The noise suddenly cuts out and the levitating droid drops back down to the ground with a sharp thud. Ned winces and Peter recoils and tenses, looking seconds away from leaping towards the ceiling.

“Sorry – I’m still working on actually sustaining that. If I can keep the heat shut-off from engaging, it should be able to get to about a foot above the ground.”

Peter settles back down, crossing his legs and peering at the robot.

“What’s your cooling system?”

“Water-based. I want to fit an extra fan in there, but I’m having serious space issues – I’ll show you…”

Ned lifts up the droid and reveals a round, dark scorch mark where the boosters have scorched the floor. Both boys freeze, staring at it.

“Dude, your mom is going to kill you.”

MJ sitting at a little wooden desk in her study at home, an anglepoise lamp shining on her work, her fingers flying over the keys. Wall-to-wall books fill the background of the shot. MJ is muttering something to herself, dictating the words as she writes.

“Hey, MJ, how long is your piece now?”

MJ continues typing, either ignoring Peter or somehow not hearing what he is saying.

“MJ? You said I could film when I came over… Is this not okay?”

Silence. The clatter of keys.

“MJ?”

“…”

“Wow, you must be really into your writing, huh.”

The camera comes on, and the three people sitting on the picnic blanket immediately groan, throwing their hands over their faces – or in MJ’s case, her book.

“C’mon, Pete, not the camera again!”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but do you think we could give the filming a rest just for one day?”

“Turn it off, Parker.”

“C’mon, guys, please? I really want to get a good grade for this class.”

“Why, so you can pursue your dream of becoming a superpowered Steven Spielberg?”

The camera moves to a low angle as Peter sets it down on the ground a little way away. MJ towers in the foreground, looking disapproving over the top of her book; Ned is amused, leaning back on his hands, while May hides her smile as she unpacks items from the picnic cooler.

“Yeah, maybe! Or, like an indie film creator. Haven’t you always wanted to go to the Sundance film festival?”

“I wouldn’t go there with you, loser.”

Ned snorts with laughter, and May hands out sandwiches and cartons of juice. Peter moves into shot, sprawling backwards until just a pair of gangly legs are visible. May strikes up a conversation with MJ about her piece for the journalism scholarship at Boston, which she has just submitted; MJ holds up her half of the conversation while still appearing to be absorbed in her book, turning pages every now and again.

Peter and Ned tussle over the last mini package of doughnuts, and wind up playing rock paper scissors for it, with May as adjudicator. They draw, and May awards the package of doughnuts to a smirking MJ, over Peter and Ned’s protests.

“You’ll have to put your book down to eat those, MJ, there’s no way you can read at the same time.”

“Watch me, loser.”

A high-pitched, urgent beeping cuts through the conversation. Ned and May start, and MJ peers over the top of her book as Peter extracts his StarkPhone from his bag, looking tense. A red light is flashing insistently on top of the phone.

“It’s Tony, it’s- he’s calling a code red.”

“You’d better go, then, sweetheart.” May speaks with an air of forced calm, her face set in lines of worry.

“But it’s my day off – I can’t go. I didn’t even bring my suit.”

“It’s in the compartment under the cooler.” MJ speaks without looking up from her book.

“It’s- What? What compartment?”

“There’s a catch on the side.”

“What? That can’t-”

MJ sighs and lunges across the picnic blanket to reach the cooler. A clicking sound is heard and in the next moment, she pulls Peter’s Spider-Man suit from an opening in the bottom of the cooler. She hands it to Peter, who frantically tries to hide it with his jacket, glancing around him.

“You can thank me later for actually being prepared. Now go save some civilians or whatever.”

“May? Are you sure you’re okay with-”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart. MJ’s right; you go save the day.”

Peter stands up and rises out of shot. Ned’s eyes meet Peter’s, off-camera, and he gestures covertly to his phone, then looks slightly crestfallen at Peter’s response. The camera picks up the sound of footsteps running across the grass; a few moments later, MJ reaches over and turns off the camera.

“Okay, we’re rolling! C’mon, open it.”

MJ shoots the camera a look of annoyance from her desk chair. She, Ned and Peter are crowded into her study, MJ seated at the desk with an envelope in her hands. The camera is set at MJ-eye-level, and only the lower half of Ned is visible as he stands next to her.

“Do we have to film this? It’s probably gonna be a rejection letter.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ve read your piece – it’s awesome.”

MJ smiles slightly and runs a finger under the flap of the envelope, tearing it open, then unfolds the letter. As she begins to read, the smile drops off her face.

Peter’s voice comes from behind the camera: “MJ? What’s wrong?”

“MJ…” Ned, reading over her shoulder.

MJ takes in a shuddering breath, the hands holding the letter beginning to shake.

“Oh, Jesus, MJ-” The camera shuts off abruptly.

The next shot shows Peter and MJ from much further away, the camera filming them from through the half-open door. MJ is sobbing into her hands, the letter discarded on the desk, as Peter hovers uncertainly, finally settling one hand on her shoulder.

MJ’s voice is muffled and thick with tears, but just barely audible.

“It’s such a load of crap. The whole scholarship system.”

“I don’t get it, MJ – how could they reject you? You’re an amazing writer, you write with passion, you picked a fascinating topic and did all this original research-”

“Peter. Stop.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to say all that stuff just to make me feel better.”

Peter sits down on the edge of the desk, which creaks slightly under his weight, and stares at MJ in bewilderment.

“But I’m not, MJ, I’m being honest. Look, I know I… run my mouth faster than my brain, and half the stuff that comes out of it doesn’t make sense, but this is true, okay? I was there when you interviewed Meredith; I saw how much she trusted you and you got her to open up. You’re so good at this, MJ, and it sucks ass that they can’t see it.”

“Yeah, well, fat load of good it’s done me. Whatever I did, it wasn’t enough.”

“But you… At least you tried, okay – you worked your ass off, you knew what you wanted and you went for it. You have something to show for what you did. Better than being too afraid to try.”

MJ wipes the tears away with the heels of her hands and looks up at Peter, assessing.

“I think you’re so amazing, MJ – what you do is gonna change the world. Way more than anything I do.”

MJ snorts, disbelieving. “Being a journalist is hardly gonna save lives-”

“No, it is!” Peter has stood up again and is gesturing for emphasis, all energy and motion. “You’re gonna – help people tell their stories, expose injustices and blow corruption cases wide open. Being a superhero is like – flashy stuff, swooping in to save the day but never really dealing with the real issues. That part… That’s the really hard work. That’s what you do.”

Peter and MJ look at each other for a long moment.

From behind the camera, barely audible, Ned can be heard breathing, “Come on…”

“You inspire me so much, MJ, and I never know how to – to show you how I feel, except-”

Peter sways forward, and MJ leans up, and their lips meet in the middle.

The camera swings away, and bounces as Ned jogs down the corridor until he is out of earshot.

“YES! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…”

The almost-completed Millennium Falcon sits in the middle of Peter’s bedroom floor, with Peter and Ned either side of it. Ned is holding a Lego brick in one hand and looking across at his best friend, who is lying half out of shot, with only his legs and half of his torso visible. A loud snoring sound emanates from off-camera.

Ned extends one foot and nudges Peter’s leg.

“Hey. Peter, wake up.��

He nudges a little harder.

“Pete!”

Peter jerks away suddenly, and his legs disappear out of shot; a second later, he crawls back into frame, looking sheepish.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m kind of tired at the moment.”

“No kidding, you almost dozed off in Biology earlier. Were you out late patrolling last night?”

Peter scratches the back of his head and looks away.

“Nah, I was actually up late finishing my application essay for MIT.”

“You what? What time did you submit it?”

“Uh, I think it was around 4am.”

“What? But the application window closed at midnight! Did Mr. Stark pull some strings to let you-”

“No! Tony doesn’t know about it. But I called ahead, and they said they’d consider it. It’s… my own fault if I don’t get in, so I don’t want anyone calling in favours. Besides, if I don’t get into MIT, I have some other ideas. I might go to Columbia to study film. Or maybe photography.”

“Wow… Really? Photography?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. The whole documentary thing has been a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

Ned glances at the camera and away again, his expression uncertain.

“Well, y’know, I’m happy for you whatever you decide to choose. But I thought we were gonna be MIT buddies. That was our plan.”

“We are! I mean, we still could be. But you knew I was having second thoughts about applying to college, and…”

“You said you were going to apply anyway! Or did you just say that to make me back off, like your aunt?”

“No! No, Ned, c’mon, it’s not like that.”

Peter runs his hands through his hair, which is flattened on one side from his nap on the floor.

“I just… I wanted to do it properly, if I was gonna do it, but my heart wasn’t in anything that I was writing. I went through like a billion drafts, until last night… I guess you could say I got inspired.”

Ned looks at his best friend, and raises his eyebrows in an Ohhh kind of way. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with…”

Peter’s ears turn bright red. He looks at the floor and picks up a Han Solo minifigure. “Yeah, maybe.”

Ned laughs, and he reaches out to give Peter’s shoulder a soft punch. “Well, glad you finally got your shit together. In multiple senses.”

Peter laughs awkwardly and runs his hand over his hair again, flattening it back down. Ned picks up a single Lego brick from his side of the model and hands it across to Peter.

“Well, while you were napping, I all but finished building the Falcon. The last piece is yours, my friend.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and he tries to hand the brick back to Ned. “No, I can’t! You should have the last piece.”

“Nah, I insist.”

Peter hesitates.

“C’mon, Parker, pull your weight. I’ve been doing all the building and my arms are tired.” Ned stretches his arms above his head in an exaggerated fashion. Peter laughs.

“Okay, okay. Are you ready?”

Ned improvises a drumroll on the floor as Peter places the last brick on the Falcon with a flourish and gently presses it down.

“There.”

Ned and Peter nod solemnly at each other across the model. Peter picks up the Han Solo minifig, and tweaks one of its little arms to extend outwards. Grinning, Ned does the same with the Luke Skywalker figurine, and the two minifigures come together to “fistbump” in midair.

The camera gazes lengthways down the dinner table at the Parker house, which is laid with nice silverware and delicate china crockery, the kind reserved only for special guests. A pair of hands – recognisably Peter’s – comes into shot and gently sets down a large bowl full of noodles in the foreground. Further down the table, May Parker, visible from the shoulders down, is laying out bowls of stir-fried vegetables and curry.

A woman wearing a long, elegant wine-red dress, visible only from the waist down, walks into shot and pulls out a chair.

“This looks delicious, Mrs. Parker.”

“Oh, it’s May, please. I’m really still learning… I’m sure this is nothing compared to the kinds of world-class cuisine that you and Tony must have cooked for you on a regular basis.”

“Aunt May’s being modest. Her cooking is really great – especially Asian-inspired food.”

“Thai is our household favourite. There’s soy sauce and chilli sauce here in case you want to add any. I should really have put out chopsticks instead of knives and forks, to be more authentic.”

Tony Stark sits down heavily in the chair next to Pepper. “I’m never authentic. Can’t use chopsticks to save my life. Pepper can – she’s good with them. Me, I always ask for a fork.”

Pepper shakes her head, long hair brushing over her shoulders. “Even when he was dining with the Prime Minister of Japan.”

“Hey, at least I didn’t ask for a cheeseburger.”

Laughter. Peter’s fingers briefly blur into view and he adjusts the camera downwards so that only the guests’ torsos and hands are visible.

The group begins to eat dinner; they make small talk and lean over each other to pass various dishes. Compliments flow freely about the quality of the food.

“So, Peter… How are college applications going? Tony said you were having some concerns about balancing college with your superhero duties.”

Pepper’s tone is careful and tactful, her cutlery pausing delicately above her plate as she asks the question. The light glints off the vibranium ring on her finger, the twin to Tony’s, but with smooth, curved lines instead of blocky, angular ones.

Peter sets his cutlery down with an overly loud clank as he hastens to answer Pepper’s question.

“I was, but uh, I think I’ve made up my mind now. I wanna make sure I have a good future that isn’t just about Spider-Man.”

“Is that right? That’s very mature of you, Peter.”

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you, Pete?” Tony jokes. “No, seriously, it’s a good decision, but what prompted it? I know it can’t have been my words of wisdom.”

Peter laughs a little nervously, toying with his cutlery.

“No, I- I mean, your advice was good! Really! But uh, I was also inspired by a friend of mine, who’s… got a lot of dreams for the future. It made me want to do the same.”

“Oh really? You’re looking a little red in the face there – is this a friend, or a friend?”

“Tony! Leave him alone. I think that’s wonderful, Peter, and the best of luck to you with your applications.”

“Wasn’t MJ supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago?”

Ned looks up from the Decathlon quiz cards he is currently shuffling. “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe she got held up.”

“I’ve never known her to be late for one of our practice sessions; she’s normally here like an hour before us.”

“It’s probably a test, to see if we keep drilling in her absence. She could be watching us right now to see if we continue.”

Ned nods towards the camera, resting on one end of the library table at which both of them are seated. “Maybe she’s put a bug in that.”

“How could she have? I keep it in my room when I’m not using it.”

“Ah, but MJ’s been in your room a lot lately. Maybe she distracts you with sexy makeout sessions, and then bugs it.”

Peter goes bright red and looks down at the cards in his hands. “So, geology-”

The sound of a door rebounding off a wall is heard somewhere nearby, and both boys look up. MJ enters in a whirl of coat, scarf and messenger bag, and triumphantly slams an open newspaper down onto the table between them.

Both Peter and Ned peer at the paper.

“Wait… is this-?” Peter stares at MJ.

“‘The Fight to Save New York’s Public Libraries’ – by Michelle Jones. Oh my god, they printed your article!”

“Yup. My first print byline. The first of many.”

MJ is smiling broadly, unable to hide how pleased she is.

“MJ, this is incredible!!”

Peter jumps up and grabs his girlfriend’s hands, spinning her round in a circle. She laughs and goes with it, poking his face after they finish.

“Dork.”

Ned is still leaning over the paper on the table.

“Wow. Did you really pitch this to the Editor?”

“Not the Editor-Editor, to the Features Editor. She was really nice, though, and after they accepted my piece she said I should apply for an internship over the summer. A proper work experience internship, not the making coffee kind.”

“Of course it’d be a proper internship! They’d be morons to waste your talents on making coffee.”

Ned clears his throat to interrupt Peter and MJ making eyes at each other.

“Hey, so, we should celebrate! Let’s go to the Waffle House!”

“Ugh, please, we go there all the time. This calls for something better. I want cheesecake pancakes.”

“Aww, but-”

“It’s MJ’s celebration, Ned, she should get to pick. C’mon, they have waffles at IHOP.”

The three move towards the door, and as Peter picks up the camera, Ned can be heard asking,

“So, are you going to frame it?”

“No way. This is going to be the first piece in my portfolio.”

“Well, thank you, Flash; that was a very… evocative piece,” said Ms. Steinberg. She nodded at Flash, standing next to the projector; he looked pleased but uncertain, as though he wasn’t sure whether she might be making fun of him. “I can tell you put a lot of passion into it.”

Flash cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

“You can sit down now, thank you. Okay, I think we have time for just one more presentation, so… Who will it be? Peter! Your friend Michelle tells me you’ve barely had a camera out of your hand since we began the assignment.”

Gloria Steinberg smiled widely at Peter, who buried his face in his folded arms. “No, no, it’s a good thing. I can’t wait to see what you’ve produced for your documentary.”

Peter nodded and pushed back his chair with a scraping noise, making his way awkwardly to the front of the room. He clutched a dog-eared sheaf of paper in one hand.

After a prolonged period of setting up the projector and a heart-stopping moment where the video seemed like it might not play after all, thanks, Peter had his film cued up and ready to go. Clearing his throat nervously, he addressed the class.

“So… Hi everyone. I’m Peter Parker, and this is my documentary presentation. The title is Perseverance.

“I mostly think that the film speaks for itself, so I’m just gonna hit play, and uh, I’m happy to answer any questions afterwards about the footage, the editing, the choice of shot or well, anything, really.”

Peter went to hit ‘Play’ on the laptop next to him, then paused.

“And uh, even though they’re not here, I’d like to thank my close friends and family for putting up with me while I shoved a camera in their faces for three months.”

That got a quiet chuckle, including from Ms. Steinberg. Peter smiled and pressed Play.

The film began.

 The film opens with a shot of Peter and Ned, sitting on Peter’s bedroom floor, with the beginnings of what will be their greatest Lego project of all time scattered around them. The audio is silent. The two boys exchange their secret handshake, before beginning to assemble the base of the structure.

Cut to Aunt May’s hands, arranging vegetables on the chopping board, then slowly and methodically beginning to chop them up. Her voice can be heard narrating,

“The instructor said that the key to this is not to raise the knife too high when chopping. It’s all about efficient, controlled movements… see how I’m keeping it even? I haven’t been going to cookery classes for very long, but you’d be surprised at how much technique goes into something like chopping vegetables – at least for professional chefs. For us amateurs, it’s not such a big deal… But still, I’m trying to make sure I have the basics mastered before I try anything more ambitious.”

Cut to Michelle, seated at her laptop and typing furiously. The camera zooms in on her screen. Peter’s voice reads, “‘The Fight to Preserve New York’s Public Libraries in the Digital Age’.”

“It’s just an outline,” Michelle says, sounding slightly embarrassed.

Cut to a pair of hands – Tony’s – de-soldering a component from the circuitboard of a Starkphone, wicking away the excess solder. “This right here is genius in the making.”

“It doesn’t look like much,” Peter’s voice replies, teasing.

In the next shot, Ned and Peter kneel on the floor of his bedroom with a sea of grid paper between them, on which are sketched the designs that will eventually become Ned’s entry into the National Under 18s Robotics Competition. Ned reaches forward and fans out a few of the sheets.

“This is my project for Robotics Lab – we have to build an independently mobile robot. Also, entries for the National Robotics Competition are open ‘til December, so if I get my shit together, I can enter.”

“Oh my god, you should!”

The film cuts to a time-lapse shot of Peter and Ned in the middle of Peter’s bedroom, gradually piecing together the Millennium Falcon.

Then May, sitting at the kitchen table, poring over a cookbook with a pencil in one hand, making notations in between the instructions. A series of print-outs sits by her elbow, with names of cooking techniques and clip-art diagrams.

The next shot is of MJ on a busy New York street, looking impatiently back at the camera before she disappears instead a shabby building. Cut to MJ and Meredith, sitting across from one another in Meredith’s cluttered office. The audio is just too soft to make out what they’re saying, but Meredith is holding forth with passion, gesturing, while MJ nods intently. She makes notes on her pad in shorthand without looking down, never breaking eye contact with Meredith.

Cut to Ned in the school Robotics lab after hours, goggles clamped over his eyes, oblivious to the camera and the empty lab growing darker around him. A single lamp illuminates his workspace as he peers into the half-constructed shell of his BB-8 droid, the distinctive rounded appearance already taking shape.

Back to MJ, on her laptop, typing up research in a fury of tapping keys and muttering under her breath.

Another time-lapse shot of Peter and Ned constructing the Millennium Falcon, weaving through the film’s narrative like a thread.

Then it’s back to Aunt May in the kitchen, trying out her Thai-inspired stir-fry for the first time. She drops the ingredients into the pan and shakes it a little as the oil starts to hiss and smoke. Unknowingly, she leaves the wooden spoon perilously close to the gas ring, and as she turns away to study the recipe, it immediately catches fire.

Peter shouts a warning, and May rushes to extinguish the flames; Peter scrambles to turn the camera off as he goes to help her.

Another close-up of Tony’s hands in the lab, as he holds a strange, glowing (possibly extraterrestrial) power source in a pair of tongs and lowers it down into the open chassis of a StarkPhone. For two seconds, nothing happens; then there is a loud sizzling sound, and what looks like bright blue lightning surges along the wires and circuits of the phone. With an abrupt crack and a curl of smoke, every single circuit shorts out.

Peter starts coughing behind the camera, as Tony waves his hand to dispel the smoke. “Mother-” The rest of the long string of expletives that follows is bleeped out.

Cut to Peter and Ned, sprawling on the floor of Ned’s bedroom as Ned demonstrates the controls for his droid. It trundles back and forth, swivels its head, and then with a noise like a jet engine powering up, slowly lifts off from the ground. Peter and Ned cheer in triumph, just a few moments before the droid’s engines abruptly cut out, and it goes crashing back to the floor with an ominous-sounding crack.

Then it’s Peter and MJ, shot from a distance through the frame of MJ’s bedroom doorway, as MJ sobs into her hands, the rejection letter discarded on her desk. Peter hovers, one hand extended uncertainly, before he rests it on her shoulder, a silent gesture of support.

The film lingers on this shot for a time, slowly fading to black.

In the next shot, Peter and May are cooking coconut laksa together in the kitchen, laughing as Peter whizzes around gathering ingredients and May tosses vegetables in the pan.

Cut to May, Peter, Pepper and Tony sitting down to an array of home-cooked dishes, all expertly prepared by May Parker. Everyone starts to serve themselves, and compliments to the chef fly freely, which May deflects, flustered but delighted.

Next, Peter and Ned sit on the floor of Ned’s bedroom as Ned demonstrates his completed, improved robot. The droid does a lap of the floor, turning its head from side to side as if watching a tennis match, before returning to the middle of the floor. This time when Ned presses down on the blue button, the droid lifts off with a slightly quieter whirring, and hovers a full foot above the ground before its creator guides it gently back down.

Peter whoops and reaches out to give Ned a high-five, pounding him on the back.

Close-up on the bench in Tony’s workshop, where a pair of hands (Tony’s, as usual) are pressing closed the case of a brand new StarkPhone.

“All right, now let’s see if this thing will turn on… Say your name.”

“My name? Uh, Peter Parker.”

The phone lights up, a blue light shining out from the screen as a Karen-like voice intones: ‘Welcome, Peter.’

“Oh my god!” Peter exclaims from behind the camera. “It worked!”

“Yup. It’s all yours, kid. Try not to break this one.”

Cut to Peter and Ned, reviewing their Decathlon cards together in the library as MJ whirls into view, slamming the newspaper with her byline down on the table in front of them. Peter and Ned lean forward together to peer at the text.

“Wait, is this-?”

“The Fight to Save New York’s Public Libraries – by Michelle Jones. Oh my god, they printed your article!”

“Yup. The first of many.”

Peter jumps up from his chair and spins MJ around in a circle, both of them laughing.

The film fades to a shot of Ned and Peter sitting either side of the Millennium Falcon, which is one brick away from being completed. Ned solemnly hands the last brick over to Peter, and does a drumroll on the floor as Peter presses the brick into place.

Peter picks up the Han Solo minifigure, and Ned picks up Luke Skywalker, and the two minifigs “fistbump” each other in midair above the completed Millennium Falcon.

Fade into Peter, Ned and MJ sitting at a table at IHOP, celebrating MJ’s first print byline. MJ is ribbing Peter mercilessly about the enormous plate of pancakes in front of him while Ned laughs.

Then Peter gets to his feet, raising his coffee, and proposes a toast: “To Michelle Jones – New York’s newest and greatest hotshot investigative reporter!”

“To MJ!” Ned cries and thrusts his hot chocolate into the air.

MJ shakes her head, but she’s laughing, and she raises her own cup to join them. “Watch out, world,” she says.

The three of them clink cups, and the film fades to black.

[incorrectmarvelkids]

Headcannon time - Homeschooled Peter Parker

Okay, but like, can you imagine? Peter’s tired after protecting his city every night and is falling asleep in classes so his grades start falling. Not really, not his actual grades, the his participation grades which are always stupidly weighted. Plus he’s been missing a ton of classes and whole days out when he gets called away on Important Avengers Work or just Normal But Still Important New York City Protection Work. And school just won’t stand for that.

To top it all off, poor lil spidey-boy’s been getting bullied. And while he’s a big boy and can handle it pretty well, he’s still human and a teen and getting called Penis Parker all day just gets annoying when combined with PILES of homework and catchup work, asshole teachers breathing down his neck, and poor grades because he’s not participating to the asshat teachers’ liking starts taking its toll. 

And Tony knows. And he knows he’s partly responsible. Give a kid a suit and he’s gonna want to go out and protect his city. He can’t ask him to stop going out. Give a kid an Honorary Avenger’s Card and he has to go where the Avenger’s go most of the time. Only a true asshole would revoke that.

And so Tony pulls out the big guns. Peter B. Parker is getting homeschooled. And, who’s more freaking qualified than a bona-fide genius and his super genius friends? Not that they really need so many teachers. Homeschooling isn’t getting privately tutored by fellow Avengers. Peter is as smart as they come, and teaches himself most of what he needs to know acoording to state standards. Science IS done with Bruce, though, if it’s something like chemistry or physics and they want to get down and nerdy with it and create some cool and dangerous stuffs. Tony helps... if he’s allowed. 

And who better to teach history than people who have gone through it themselves? Sure, Peter plugs away at his textbooks and tests, but when he has to write a report with citations who better to go to than Captain freaking America Steve Rogers for facts about WWII? And of course, Bucky’s right there giving him the “real facts.” Although... MLA citing two avengers is a bit... tricky.

And it gives Peter more time to do what he likes, and not just go out protecting. He has time for martial arts and training and sparring and battle practice. He expiramented with art a little bit. Instruments. Dabbled in a couple different languages. Of course, not everything stuck with him. The acoustic guitar has become a coathanger and the small engine repair kit wasn’t as interesting as it had looked before.

It also lets him hang out more with his mentor and learn more electric work, programming, inventing, engineering stuffs, and all that fun stuff Tony adores and Peter wants to learn. It’s the best of both worlds, of all worlds. And better still, PETER CAN NAP IF HE NEEDS TO. And do school in his pajamas, which is fucking awesome. 

But seriously, breaking the wall here and honestly asking, why isn’t Peter being homeschooled by Tony Stark???????????????