[PM] I managed to swing us two midnight release tickets for the new Star Wars movie, if you're free.
[PM]
I love you.
...Well I’m definitely the Princess Leia in this relationship. I will always make my princess ass free for Star Wars though.
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[PM] I managed to swing us two midnight release tickets for the new Star Wars movie, if you're free.
[PM]
I love you.
...Well I’m definitely the Princess Leia in this relationship. I will always make my princess ass free for Star Wars though.
⚰: my muse’s reaction to watching yours die from afar
Peter wasn’t supposed to be on the job. Better yet–or worse, yet (Tony hadn’t yet figured that out)–it was supposed to be an easy job. When the Avenger’s alert radiated across the tower, sending Tony’s phone vibrating to all hell, and JARVIS announced, “there’s a building on fire on 8th and Irving,” Tony had assumed the best–they brought the big guns, and by guns he meant hoses, they removed civilians from the area (it was, after all, past work hours; it was unlikely that anyone was inside except perhaps the over-worked few–look who was talking), and it’d be job over. Easy peasy.
And then the building collapsed. Tony had failed to calculate aging structure, hadn’t thought about how weak the boards of the old office building–something that hadn’t been updated since the early 1900′s and had been crafted in the 1800′s–would be and how easy they’d crumble, just how quickly the ceiling would fall. Tony had failed to do his research, and the wort part was, he wasn’t the one about to pay for it.
“Peter!” Tony’s scream rang across the comms, crackled through the voice modifier of the Iron Man suit, but he didn’t care, didn’t give a damn who was listening and who wasn’t, just that his boots should have been faster than this, just that when he swooped in to grab the crumbling foundation, lift it off the red-and-blue adorned hero, he was already too late. The building was falling, and everything–everything from the walls, to the ceiling, to the damned floor, the stupid trash can in the corner–was on fire.
Tony scrambled to remove the rubble, looking for a twitch, a kick, anything that said Peter Parker--the boy who had a scheduled dinner with Aunt May that evening, who had bragged over the comms about her hand-made pies, who was still ready for another fight. “Come on, Kid,” Tony whispered, and he should have known then, should have put the pieces together, because JARVIS had turned off the comms.
Tony saw red and sprinted, but all he found was a ripped piece of mask. “Spiderman, answer.” But there was only static on the other end of the line, and Tony’s heart–that old battered, broken thing–was pounding out of his chest. “Come on, come on. JARVIS, scan for heat signatures. Do it again. I don’t care! Do it again.”
JARVIS would scan for hours; Tony would search for longer.
The next day, Tony would tell Aunt May himself, would stand in her doorway, pat her shoulder as she sobbed into his chest, and know, no matter how many times he told her “I’m sorry for your loss,” that would never be enough–never really mean a thing.
[PM] Hey babe -- happy birthday. You've got me for the entire day. Whatever you wanna do, we can do it.
[PM] Thanks <3, I’d really like a dragon but I don’t think that’s feasible? Would you be okay with grabbing dinner at some place somewhere (I don’t know where, decisions are gross). I would say go watch a movie but I can’t think of anything I want to see, do you think going on a walk after that and being as coupley as possible to annoy the tourists is a good idea?
An Honorary Scotsman // Peter & Leo
After receiving Peter’s confirmation, Fitz grinned and slid his phone over the counter towards his mess of projects. He wasn’t greatly worried about finding it again, especially since once he looked around, he realized just how untidy the shop was looking. He was going to have to organize everything before Peter got there, and hopefully quickly.
For the next twenty minutes he ran from place to place, returning tools, replacing scrap pieces, and trying to clean up any corner that seemed to be shrouded in more crap than he thought possible. Of course, tucked away in one of his cabinets, he found his set of bagpipes. He hadn’t been practicing as much as he promised Darcy he would- partly because he had been threatened throughout the entire floor- but also because he was just too busy to try and blow into a pipe. But with Peter dissing his Scottish brethren over the instrument, when was a better time to pick up an instrument?
He sank onto a stool and started playing a few notes, waiting until he was notified that Peter was in the building to start playing a Scottish favorite. The only wish he could make was that Peter was close enough to hear the pipes call out to him (and help him locate the lab quicker).
Birthday Guy
Hey Fitz,
[enclosed is Scotch and two How It’s Made full seasons].
I always used to love watching these, but I’ve been running out of time lately. Maybe we could watch them and have a night in?
Happy Birthday, bro
– Peter
The moment he opened up the bag and saw the scotch with the DVDs, Leo was sure it was Jemma and her silly attempt at a prank. But when he actually looked at the videos closer, he smiled wide and flipped them over, excited with what they had in store. The scotch was just an added bonus, and when that was compounded to the fact that Peter considered him a bro-like figure, Fitz could only hug everything to his chest and debate calling the guy now, or in a few minutes. One thing was certain; he was more than excited to watch those movies with him.
Text @ Boy Genius
Science Lion: Hey Kiddo.
Science Lion: I'm milking this age difference for all its worth, btw.
Science Lion: Whatcha doing?
Note
Peter,
I don’t know what to say really. Except I’m sorry that I’m dead and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about the whole...superhero thing. I guess I just didn’t want to hurt you and I just wanted you to be safe.
I love you and I’m sorry if I was far too much of a dumbass to ever tell you that for real and in person.
Look after Lucky for me, okay?
I love you for real Frodo.
- Kate
Email to: Tony Stark
tonyshellheadstark
Hi, Tony. I’ve attached an audio file that Peter and I think could help get rid of the weird black alien thing stuck to Peter. Get back to us as soon as possible, please.
Thanks,
Darcy.