Domestic Avengers!

Where is my fucking tuna sandwich?

A/N: Soooooooo, still not dead, just very lazy...

"Come on guys, there is no way in hell that this is going to work— don't say that word, Morgan," Harley said as he sat next to Peter and Morgan in the living room of the lake house.

Peter sighed, "Stop being a party pooper. Besides this is kind of your fault. You wanted to watch the Exorcist with Morgan. And now she wants to contact dad." He gestured to the candles around the dark living room and the Ouija board.

"But why the candles?" Harley asked.

Morgan pouted, "It adds at- athen- athenticistiy- blah!"

"You mean authenticity, Morg," Peter chuckled at the six-year-old.

"Yeah! That word!" Morgan said pointing at Peter. 

"Do we have to do this?" Harley whined. "It won't work."

"Non-believer." Peter pointed out.

"Non-believer." Morgan mimicked. 

"What can I say, I'm a Shaniack." Harley shrugged, "You Boogaras are ridiculous."

Peter and Morgan gasped, "Harley! We are offended! You and your wind can get out!" Peter said and shielded Morgan dramatically.

"Calm down Petey-boy." Harley chuckled. He pulled morgan over to himself and hugged her. "Let's get this ridiculous game over with."

Morgan wriggled out of Harley's grasp and all three siblings put a hand on the planchette. They stayed silent for a moment. "Okay, so what now? Because I feel really stupid with my hand on a plastic triangle and waiting for cardboard to talk."

"Shh!" Morgan hissed, "Daddy, can you do something to show that you're here?"

The planchette slowly started sliding across the board slowly, L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-3-0-0-0, was slowly spelled out across the board.

"L... love... you... three... thousand..." Peter muttered as he spelled out the letters.

Morgan looked shocked as did Peter, "Come on, its a coincidence. All three of us know about that so one of us could have been subconsciously spelling it." Harley pointed out.

"Fine, let's try something else then. Dad, spell something about me." Peter said.

The planchette moved across the board again, U-N-D-E-R-O-O-S-K-I-D-U-N-D-E-R-O-O-S, was spelled across the board.

"Under... oos... kid... underoos?" Morgan asked. "What are underoos?"

Peter blushed and Harley laughed, "It means old-time underwear or something. Besides Me and Peter both knew about that so one of could have done it. So show me something good and then I'll believe in this garbage." Harley had taken his fingers off the planchette and pushed Peter and Morgans fingers off as well.

Peter and Morgan lightly glared at Harley. Then there was a light scraping sound. The siblings turned to the board and jumped as the planchette slid across the cardboard spelling out, W-H-E-R-E-I-S-M-Y-F-U-C-K-I-N-G-T-U-N-A-S-A-N-D-W-I-C-H, peter repeated what the board spelled out causing Harley to freeze and fall over.

"WhAT THE FUC-!?" Harley shouted as he jumped up.

He ran out of the living room followed by Peter and Morgan. "Jesus Christ. When did my kids forget their manners? They didn't even say bye. How rude." Tony muttered as he sat crossed legged in the living room.

...

"Any luck?" Morgan asked.

Peter shook his head as he pushed the broom under the bed poking Harley. "Nope. He won't come out."

Morgan looked under the bed. "It's been two hours!" she yelled.

Tony laughed as he looked at his kids. Then he frowned, "Maybe I should have mentioned the potato gun as well..."

A/N: Quarantine... quarantine... does whatever quaren... can? I don't know... I'm so bored I have gone to the lengths of fucking singing the Lizzie Borden rhyme. You know, "Lizzie Borden took an axe and gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done she gave her father forty-one."

Anyway, any requests you guys have?

I need some ideas...

Bye peeps

Cyn