“So...you got detention.”
Oh. My. God.
Peter dropped his head down onto his desk, a resounding bang accompanying the impact of his forehead to the plastic surface. He didn’t stop there — nope, he banged his head again, and then again, and then again —
Because the old, VHS playing, vintage CRT television was stuck in a loop.
This was hell. It had to be. He died — again — and this time he went straight to hell. Only, hell wasn’t full of flames and fire and torture. No, Parker Luck meant it was chock-full of Captain America’s painful, ironic, hypocritical lecturing.
Peter banged his head one last time, keeping it there as his lips all but kissed the dirty desk. There was no simply other way to explain it.
“You screwed up,” Captain America’s voice echoed through the otherwise quiet classroom, somewhat full of static when the P’s of his words popped. “You know what you did was wrong.”
Peter didn’t understand how tuition here could cost so much and yet they couldn’t replace the television from 2002. He didn’t know how many more popped P’s he could stand to hear before fixing the broken speakers himself. It’d been a while since he dumpster dived for computer parts, but it’d be worth it just for the sake of his sanity.
“The question is, how are you going to make things right?”
There was only one other thing louder than the PSA’s. Peter folded both his arms underneath his chin, peering his eyes over them to catch a glimpse of Mr. Wilson — sitting at the teachers desk straight ahead.
Peter had a good feeling he could leave detention this very second and the gym teacher wouldn’t even notice. He had his legs propped up, uncaring as his shoes sat directly on a few scattered papers left behind from the English teacher assigned to the classroom. If those papers were important, she’d definitely regret leaving them behind — Mr. Wilson’s tennis shoes scattered dirt from the track field onto the already crumpled documents.
He clearly didn’t care. Not as heavy snores came from his slacked-open mouth, jolting his body with each breath he took in. The man absolutely needed to be checked for sleep apnea.
Peter arched an eyebrow but otherwise stayed quiet — he wasn’t about to wake him up to tell him that.
“Maybe you were trying to be cool,” Captain America kept talking as Peter fought to keep his eyes from rolling to the very back of his skull. He wasn’t sure either eyeball would make it back to the surface. “Take it from a guy who’s been frozen for sixty-five years. The only way to really be cool...is to follow the rules.”
“Shut up,” Peter mumbled into the crook of his arm, turning his cheek over to press the side of his face there. If he smothered his face any harder, he’d be eating his own flesh. “You break the rules like, all the time, dude!”
The only response to his muttering was a loud snore from Mr. Wilson. And a crackle of static from the television as the VHS skipped over a few parts — but, Parker Luck be had, it just skipped right back to the beginning.
“So...you got detention.”
Oh. My.
God.
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MJ: And if living hurts, maybe don't do it alone. Let's do it one step at a time, but maybe together.
Peter: Yeah? You really wanna do this with me?
MJ: Well, there are worse people to do life with. You're better than most, so why not? I have nothing to lose.
Peter: You might regret it.
MJ: (quirks a brow)
Peter: Maybe... maybe I'll ask you to marry me one day.
MJ:
Peter:
MJ: (gets over shock)
MJ: Huh.
Peter: (beams)
MJ: (inhales, then exhales): Maybe. Maybe I'll say yes.
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Marvel quotes #8
Peter Parker: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
MJ: Okay.
Peter Parker: And make out during the scary parts.
MJ: Th-
MJ: The scary parts.
MJ: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
incorrect quotes generator
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I image Michelle would get very annoyed at Peter everytime he knocks at her window asking for a patch up at 2 something in the morning but never turns him down since she worries about him a lot whenever he goes out as spiderman and it puts her at rest knowing he’s alive. Of course she wouldn’t tell him that ever.
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