Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Natasha unlocked the door at exactly 11:54pm. She was an expert at noiselessly entering the apartment, and went about her usual routine: throw her backpack on the ground, grab a snack from the fridge, read the sticky note on the toaster - huh. That last one was not normal. Their toaster (lovingly called Jarvis after a friend of a friend) was suspiciously crusted over and blackened, with a neon green sticky note barely holding on for dear life. “DO NOT USE!! it caught on fire” was penned out in not-so-neat handwriting.

The absurdity of the obvious shocked Nat out of her zombie-like routine. She barked out a laugh, then remembered she was trying to be courteous. There was a sudden click, and she spun to see all of her roommates crowded into one of their bathrooms. Four guilty faces all stared at her: Sam (holding several pairs of tongs Nat didn’t know they owned), Steve (with what looked like a mini fire extinguisher), Clint (somehow drenched, a mystery that was never solved) and Bucky (face covered in soot and holding several also soot-covered paper towels).

For a second: silence. Then came the laughter. Of course their toaster would explode in someone’s face, that thing was a piece of shit anyway. What the boys were trying to make so late at night was anyone’s guess, but it probably involved a crap ton of bread and/or sugar and was supposed to be an “ingenious recipe”.

Once the five roommates had calmed down somewhat, Nat announced she was ordering a pizza and joined her friends in the bathroom to aggressively help scrub both people and tongs.

It started like this: one too many people had posted about the Disney College Program on Facebook and how it changed their life, blah blah blah, and Nat was bored of university anyway. Once you liked one of those posts you got a flood of them, and it didn’t seem like a bad gig. Nat wasn’t a people person by nature, but she wanted a job and wanted to get the heck out of dodge (see: university). Next were forms, interviews, and Instagram group chats that blew up her phone during only the worst hours of the night.

But through the sludge of lucky applicants she made a few friends: Sam (who had just left a brief military stint), Steve and Bucky (best friends who applied together after graduating together. Nat still hasn’t seen them unattached at the hip anywhere besides work), and Clint (who had never been to a city before? And picked Orlando?). And each of her friends made their own friends, and somehow this “not people person” person had created what a therapist would call a safe network. Which was weird. But not unwelcome.

Anyway. The five of them decided their program (and money) would be better spent in an apartment instead of DCP housing, and managed to find one that wasn’t too bad price-and-location-wise. The biggest con was the two (and a half) bedroom situation, but Steve and Bucky had assumed they were sharing and Clint and Nat had formed a borderline codependency before they’d even met in person. Sam got the weird half room next to bathroom #2, and they all came away with extra money to blow in the parks. So it was a win-win.

About a month before moving in, the emails started coming. The Big One with their role was of course the only letter Nat got while at class, so by the time she got to read it her friends had all seen theirs already. Most of them had attractions operations: Steve got Tomorrowland, but was training on the Peoplemover (which he had already researched for hours after finding out), Bucky was on Rock ‘n’ Rollercoaster (he didn’t care, but everyone knew he was secretly pleased), and Sam got the Hall of Presidents (predictable). This left Clint to Frontierland quick service (he was not happy), and Nat to…well, she didn’t know. But a few swipes through her Gmail and bam: HS Attractions; Location Galaxy’s Edge.

Nat didn’t know what any of those words meant. Everyone else did and appropriately freaked out, and she let them explain it to her. It seemed she had a lot of catching up to do; Nat hadn’t seen a movie in probably a decade, if she thought about it. But she liked the idea: big evils, found family, drama and whatever the heck light sabers were. It sounded like fun. It sounded like a reason to leave college and move to Florida.

With everything signed on dotted lines and all of her necessities (she always packed light), Nat got in the car and drove until she couldn’t see straight and the licence plates began to mainly contain oranges. She was the first arrival to the apartment, and liked being able to scope out all of its nooks and crannies, her hiding spots for later. Then she blasted the Front Bottoms and unpacked. By the end of the week everyone had moved in, and the rest was history.

Chapter Text

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUCK!!!! Peter was running, or attempting to. The problem with working at Animal Kingdom was the whole “enter through the guest entrance” thing. It wasn’t necessary, but Peter liked it. He got to see the guests enjoying themselves, the animal life, the plants. You only work at Disney once, so might as well take advantage of it.

When it really became a problem was when Peter was late. He was a collector of close calls and almost mishaps, so this wasn’t always a worry. It seemed like his luck had finally run out, though, as he sprinted through the crowded pathways. He was a sporty guy, especially back in high school, but it was hard to break through crowds of families without slowing down and/or punching someone.

He finally made it to work only 2 minutes late, and called whoever was Coordinator in the hopes he wouldn’t get in trouble. The phone rang for a nerve-wrackingly long time, and the person who picked up didn’t sound like they cared much.

“Coordinator phone, this is Tony. What is it?” Peter sighed with relief. Tony was his favorite coordinator, and was usually pretty lenient.

“H-hi, this is Peter! I’m calling to let you know I was two minutes late? I’m r-really sorry, the bus took forever and then I got lost which is crazy because I work here and-” Between giant gulps of air and his usual anxiety, he was barely understandable, but Tony cut him off.

“Yeah, I see that. I’ll call leadership, tell them to take it off. It shouldn’t be a problem.” Somehow Tony seemed to get calmer the more stressed Peter was. He was only 6 years older than Peter but it felt like 30 in these types of situations.

With a huge breath in, Peter sighed a “thanks, Tony” and pulled his assignment. It was time for him to start his shift, which meant that Dinosaur had to promptly break down. That ride was going to be the death of him, he swore it.

The day, per usual, was pretty uneventful after the downtime, and like clockwork the guests got fewer and far between until the rope to ride was closed at the park shut down for the day. This was Peter’s favorite part because it felt like he had the ride to himself. Running it empty and walking the ride path was so special, and he loved his coworkers, so it was all around a good time.

Animal Kingdom’s early closing was another favorite of Peter’s. He hadn’t brought a car with him, so he used the provided bus system that was unreliable more often than not. It took far too long to get to and from the CP housing, but it was free and easy… ish. He only had a bike back home, so there was no driving choice for him anyway.

Peter lived in the provided housing with 3 other random roommates, mostly lucking out. They all had separate bedrooms, but he shared a bathroom with a tall, pretty girl named MJ. Across the hall were Ned and Flash. Peter and Ned had clicked almost instantly, both having brought Lego sets to complete during their time in Florida. Flash, however, was annoying and flat-out mean. He rarely had anything nice to say, but his schedule didn’t line up with Peter’s well, so he barely saw him anyway.

With a swipe of a key card, Peter opened his apartment door to see an empty kitchen and living room. He presumed that everyone was at work, which was fine with him. Some quiet could serve him well. The boy opened the bathroom door on his side haphazardly, expecting no one to be there. Without realizing, the door had hit MJ, who was standing in front of her sink and organizing what Peter guessed were makeup brushes. He didn’t think that she wore much makeup if any at all, but he didn’t ask.

“Oh - Sorry! I didn’t think you’d be here.” His eyes widened at the realization that he had hit her, and yanked his hand from the door handle. This is humiliating.

“It’s fine.” MJ was still in her work uniform - she worked at the Toy Story dining experience, which was so not her vibe - and she was back already, which means she (like Peter) had the rest of the evening free.

Peter went out on a limb and decided they both had nothing to do. “Do you wanna, like…watch a movie or something?” It was hard to tell with MJ. She always had an I don’t care about you attitude. But when Peter suggested it, her usual frown moved, just a little.

“Only if I get to pick.” And she didn’t even sound mad when she said it! This was definitely a win in Peter’s book.

They ended up agreeing on something from before 1950 that made absolutely no sense to Peter, but they made popcorn and were still sitting on the couch when Ned got home and joined them. It was a nice evening, and Peter didn’t miss the way MJ scooted closer during the intense scenes. He really was so lucky to be here.

Chapter Text

When Steve Rogers was six, his favorite movie was Cinderella.

He’d wait until his family went to bed, sneak down to the living room, and pull out the VHS that his mother kept in pristine condition. After popping the tape into the player, Steve would sit crisscrossed directly in front of the television in the way that adults around him would say caused damage to young eyes. During the scenes with songs, the scrawny little boy would stand in the middle of the room and ballroom dance with a ghost, pretending that it was his future happily ever after. He knew that it wasn’t “manly,” but he saw himself in her. Yes, she was blonde with blue eyes— so he literally saw himself in her. But more than that, he saw her willingness to give to others who did her wrong. To turn the other cheek.

If Bucky came over, they watched Cars or The Incredibles. Bucky liked movies with big battles and high stakes. Steve liked them too, but not as much as ones driven by love stories and defeating evil. In all honesty, he never picked the movie. Steve would follow Bucky’s every move if it meant being near him at all. Bucky knew that, but probably wouldn’t admit it at such a young age.

When Steve told Bucky that he wanted to do the Disney College Program, Bucky had no doubts about going with him. He knew that it was out of his element, but so was any place without his best friend. So, they applied, got in, found roommates, and made their way to Florida.

Steve had been to Disney four times before moving there. He loved the sit down rides, and especially loved Tomorrowland. The futuristic feel felt special to him, even if it became silly looking as time went on. As one could imagine, his role reveal made him shoot through the roof with joy. On the other hand, Buck had never been. He wasn’t one for crowds… or sticky, Florida weather… or really anything having to do with Walt Disney World.

“I like it. Very… Rockin’.” Steve sat on the edge of his bed as Bucky walked out in his new work uniform.

“Funny,” Bucky replied, rolling his eyes and slumping down on the bed opposite of Steve. “Why can’t we just wear all black? Can that not be ‘Disney look’? They’re control freaks.”

Steve let out a chuckle and rolled his eyes. “You knew what you were signing up for before coming. C’mon, Buck, it’s really not that bad.”

“Whatever. We both know that I’ll still complain. Your turn, Mr. Morrow,” Bucky shot a look over at Steve, just to see the expression he’d make at the nickname. Bucky was getting good at the Disney references already.

Steve got up and walked over to the bathroom, bumping into both of his friends’ knees on the way in. He promptly changed into his uniform and headed back out to where Bucky sat.

“It’s pretty terrible,” Steve muttered. “I love it.” A smile widened across his face before he did a slow spin. This was his dream; working on one of his favorite rides and living with his best friend.

Bucky finally sat up on his bed and smiled a tender smile. “I’m glad you love it,” his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect— for this job.”

He hesitated.

Steve heard the hesitation, but ignored it. Or— tried to ignore it. He wouldn’t have meant it in that way. That would be too crazy for Steve to dream up. He’d thought of different scenarios in the time that the two boys had known each other where things like that had been said. Each and every time, they were brushed off and ignored. For both of their sakes, it had to be.

Starting a new job and moving across the country was already too much. Steve couldn’t add hoping that his best friend was secretly in love with him to the list.

Chapter Text

Kate Bishop was not patient. Her parents had told her that all throughout her childhood. Her friends had brought it up during her teens. And now, at 21, she hadn’t changed at all. So there she stood, tapping her foot and staring at the time on her phone in the staff parking lot. Clint had promised he would pick her up from work, and like clockwork he was late.

Kate and Clint had met when he had (literally) bumped into her during a College Program event. She complimented his shirt (some band he honestly had never heard before), and from there they were inseparable. He also had a car and she didn’t, so that aided her dependence on him a little.

15 minutes late, Clint finally pulled into the Hollywood Studios parking lot. Kate waved him down, and instantly started yapping about work (“Today we ran out of ketchup and you would have thought the world fucking ended! People were practically rioting, Clint. We ended up stealing some from Backlot Express to tide us over but how does that even happen, running out of ketchup?”), barely looking next to her.

When she finally took a breath, she processed that her friend hadn’t said a word, which wasn’t fully unusual but probably meant something was up.

Clint was giving her that expression he made that meant he was annoyed, but not with her. HEARING AID DEAD. He signed slower than normal, probably because he was also driving and only had one free hand.

Oh. Okay. Kate very slowly signed back what she hoped was “sorry”. Based on the way Clint’s face cleared a little, she was right. She tried to think of what to do next. She wasn’t stupid, she knew Clint was Deaf. He had told her a week or two after they met, and she had been slowly picking up sign whenever he used it, which was all the time. Even when he had his hearing aids in, sometimes it just made more sense to sign. It was quick and helpful when in crowded spaces, which were unavoidable in Orlando.

Kate realized this was her only chance (that evening) to beg for Clint to drive them to dinner. She waved so he would know she was trying to talk to him, paused for a second to collect her thoughts, and very slowly spelled M-C-D-O-N-A-L-D-S P-L-E-A-S-E.

Clint laughed out loud and showed Kate how to sign PLEASE (a flat palm moving in circles over your chest). He course corrected and made Kate order a Happy Meal for him, then parked and turned so he could actually talk with his friend.

WORK GOOD? Clint’s eyebrows shot up because he was asking a question. Kate moved her hands in a general “so-so” motion, and then clearly thought about how she was going to explain what had happened.

K-E-T-C-H-U-P GONE. PEOPLE ANGRY. For a beginner Kate thought she did pretty good, and Clint clearly understood. She had been practicing her expressions, and made sure she looked suitably angry when signing, as that was the grammar necessary.

WHAT DO? Was his response.

PICK UP B-A-C-K-L-O-T. Kate finished her slow spelling with a shrug. She wished she could say “stole” instead of “picked up”, because that would be funnier. She knew the language barrier was hard for her and harder for Clint. It made him feel useless (something he’d never admit to, but was clearly written on his face every time this happened).

With their post-work snacks done, they began to pick up their trash and get ready to go.

YOU WANT ME COME OVER WATCH MOVIE? Kate suggested, then added a quick MOVIE WE WATCH AGAIN. SO YOU UNDERSTAND. She got a nod back and quickly the car was headed towards Clint’s apartment.

There was only a little traffic (a miracle), and they made it to the apartment in record time. Once they entered, it was clear there were other roommates there: two different people were playing conflicting music in the opposite bedrooms.

PEOPLE HERE. WHICH DON’T KNOW. Kate was quick to let Clint know, because she knew nobody wanted to get jumpscared by their roommates, no matter how nice they were. She got a quick nod in return before Clint collapsed onto the couch, immediately assuming his usual position of taking up 80% of it. Kate quickly filled in the other 20% and sat on top of Clint’s legs, and was hit with the remote because of it. She laughed and pulled up a cheesy adventure movie she loved and Clint pretended he hated.

The bedroom that was quietly seeping out indie music (the other was clearly playing Hamilton) turned out to be Nat’s. She silently opened the door, and Kate wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t currently hypervigilant of movement to make sure she caught everything Clint had to say. She didn’t seem shocked to see Kate, because she visited at least 5 times a week, but still slightly waved as if they barely knew each other. Which they did, because Nat was borderline nonverbal herself and spent every waking moment at work.

Before Nat could pretend she wanted to have a conversation, Clint waved her down and started rapidly signing. Kate pushed down any sort of jealousy she had, and focused on the movie. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she totally eavesdropped.

Clint: BATTERY DEAD.

Nat: FORGET CHARGE YOU? STUPID. HOW WORK?

Clint: FINISH WORK, THEN DIED. NOBODY AT WORK KNOW.

Nat: CHARGE NOW?

Clint: NO, - A sign Kate had never seen but based on Nat’s expression probably meant “lazy”.

Nat: FINE, NEED TALK WITH KATE. Suddenly the younger girl’s eyes were everywhere but the conversation at hand. She hated when people spoke about her in front of her face.

Clint: WHY? WE TALK. Kate felt her face heat up.

Nat: SHE STUPID NOT. WATCHING. At that point Kate gave up pretending to watch the movie.

Kate chimed in with WHAT? I SLOW SIGN, I KNOW. NOT FUN TALK.

Clint looked down for a second, guiltily. YES, BUT UNDERSTAND FAST. I FORGET. SORRY. WILL - and then took his left hand, cupped it vertically and put his right hand into the top of it. Seeing her confused look, he added I-N-C-L-U-D-E MORE. Kate smiled at that. She would have never expected the resident emo to stand up for her, but she’d take what she could get.

Shockingly, Nat then went over to where Clint’s head was resting, picked it up and forced herself onto the couch, scooting her friend down until he almost kicked Kate in the face. She stayed for the whole movie too, and said goodnight to Kate when she left. Maybe her charm and personality was finally winning someone over.

Clint offered to drive Kate home (because of the car problem), and mostly kept to himself for the drive. When they stopped, though, he turned back to her.

SORRY IGNORE TODAY.

YOU OKAY.

NO, I ASSHOLE. That got Kate to laugh. Her best friend was an asshole, that was for sure.

FINE, YOU ASSHOLE. Which made Clint smile too. YOU PICK MOVIE NEXT. SEE YOU LATER.

SEE YOU LATER K-A-T-I-E. Which wasn’t her name, but she’d let it slide. With a smile she shut the door of the car, and promptly realized it was 1am - she had work at 10am. Shit. Oh well, at least she’d had fun.

Chapter Text

Throwing his phone onto his bed, Peter continued wrestling with his closet. He swore his costume was in there somewhere, but the longer he fought the less convinced he became. The phone throwing might have been unnecessary, except that his friends kept blowing it up with their unhelpful suggestions.

August 26, 20XX at 10:25pm

The Guardians

MANT: You could always sew a new one?

Neb: BFFR

Drax: maybe try costuming?

MANT: That’s less fun though.

Gammy: shut up im not supposed to be on break rn my phone is so loud

Neb: why are you on your phone then?

Rocket: i wasn’t gonna say anything but now that i know its causing problems…

MANT: Go away, Rocket. Gamora is trying to pretend to do her job.

Peter: this still doesn’t help me at ALL you guys

Rocket: that’s bc we don’t like you

At this the phone had received the brunt of Peter’s annoyance and was currently lighting up with 20+ messages from, of course, his work group chat. Well, used-to-be-work-group-chat.

Two years prior to Peter’s costume conundrum, a new ride had opened in EPCOT: Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind. Based on a movie Disney produced but didn’t really advertise, a bunch of the new College Program kids were assigned to operate it. And of course, Peter was one of them.

He loved it for two reasons: he had the same name as the guy on the ride. How freaking cool is that? And, if he was honest, he had met his Personal Guardians of the Galaxy. No, they didn’t get so lucky with the matching name thing, but after a delightful 2am drunk watch of the film trilogy, they had assigned each other characters and somehow it stuck. Peter got to keep his namesake, but his friends got to see themselves in the ride too. They even had their name tags changed, although it took a little bit of begging. It was awesome.

But a lot can happen in two years, and only Peter and Gamora were still working the ride. Which sucked, but their friend group was strong enough that they still hung out, and there were brief talks of moving in together. Who knew if that was going to happen, but the future was still young.

After fully stuffing himself in the closet, Peter finally came out victorious. This was good because he only owned one costume, and he was wasting “costume getting” time by finding it. Peter made it just on time to work, and when he got his assignment (merge), realized he would be paired up with Gamora. He rushed to his position and quickly spotted his friend.

“Hey,” he tried to sound suave but it just made him sound annoying. Gamora rolled her eyes.

“Hi.” She sounded flat. That was not unusual, but she sounded slightly more “angry bored”, rather than her common “plain bored”.

Peter, not one for silence, immediately started organizing the line to distract Gamora from whatever guest complaint had happened. But her toned-down rage still continued, and he couldn’t help but ask what was wrong.

Gamora sighed. “A guest got mad at me, per usual. But he made it way too personal. He wrote down my nametag, which, obviously, is useless.” She flashed him a quick look at the badge (GAMORA, Vancouver, CA), and continued. “He wanted to skip the whole line when I was at greeter because of our down time. I even offered him Lightning Lane but he claimed it ‘didn’t work’, and that I was stupid for even suggesting it.” She tried her best not to look upset about it as she explained.

Gamora and Nebula, sisters who did the ICP (Canada is a part of the International College Program, instead of the Disney College Program), both had the same attitude about feisty guests: try your best to ignore them. Nebula had been transferred over to Fantasyland attractions (and was miserable working on It’s a Small World), and was somehow even more stoic than her sister.

But as much as she tried, Gamora did care, just a little. Peter secretly believed it was his influence that did it; his infectious extrovert-ness tended to rub off on whoever was near.

Whoever or whatever it was, he was just happy to see his friend show some emotion. Gamora took her apathetic attitude too far sometimes. He offered her a small smile and a shrug, hoping it came across as apologetic more than benign, and they got back to work.

After a much more manageable afternoon compared to the morning, Gamora finished her shift and pulled out her phone.

August 26, 20XX at 4:16pm

The Guardians

Gammy: anyone want to go out for dinner? peters not done until 6:30 but we can make plans for after?

MANT: I’m off today! Yes!

Drax: so am i.

Gr00t: my shift ended at 3, im good tg

MANT: Nice! So that’s everyone except @Neb and @Rocket.

Gammy: cmon @Neb i’ll pay

Neb: i don’t believe that

Neb: but i shockingly don’t have plans today, so i guess i’ll come.

MANT: YAY!!!

Gammy: what do you mean “shockingly” you never have plans

Neb: shush

Rocket: what

Drax: gamora has offered to take all of us to dinner tonight! will you be joining us?

Gammy: that is NOT WHAT I SAID!!!

Rocket: well if gamora’s paying…

Gammy: I AM NOT PAYING

Mantis: Gamora, he won’t come otherwise!

Gammy: NO.

August 26, 20XX at 4:25pm

The Guardians

Gammy: fine.

MANT: YAYYYYY!!!!!!

August 26, 20XX at 6:32pm

The Guardians

Peter: what.