#being a fucking flyer (nuisance)

[kumeko]

A/N: For @gcsfanzine ! I love the antics these three get into, with Selina forced into the responsible role because she’s the only one of the three with some conscience.

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Ivy was sick. Selina took a moment to contemplate the thought, to fully savour the situation she found herself in. Poison Ivy, Pamela Isley, one-woman army and stone-cold bitch, was sick. Sick enough to need help, to ask for help.

And the well-known misanthrope needed Selina’s help.

It was hard enough to think about, let alone believe. Yet, Selina couldn’t doubt the evidence in front of her. Sprawled across Harley’s plush, king-sized mattress, an extremely grumpy Ivy glared at the ceiling. Her fingers tapped the blankets ceaselessly, her jaw clenched so hard Selina could have broken walnuts against it. She looked like a cantankerous alley cat. She also looked entirely out of place buried amongst Harley’s infinite plushies.

How Harley had managed to force Ivy into her bedroom, Selina had no idea. The whole place looked like the residence of a punk princess, a strange hybrid of cute frills and black leather. Neither of the two vibes fit Ivy and put together they just looked even more garish.

“Ahh.” Ivy breathed out harshly before forcing herself up into a seated position. Her red hair clung to her sticky skin, giving her an oddly deflated appearance. There was a reddish tint to her green skin. All in all, she looked like a sick person. A very cranky sick person. “I’m leaving.”

Selina snorted inelegantly. There was the Ivy she knew and tolerated. From across the room, she gestured at the foot of the bed and raised a brow. “How? You broke your leg. And you have a fever.”

Ivy fisted her hand and hit the mattress. A shark plushie fell off the bed. “The fucking hyenas broke it.” Her hair had a life of its own and rose, giving her a lion-like mane. Maybe it sensed its mistress’s rage. “I’ll kill them.”

“You’d be doing me a favour.” Selina wrinkled her nose as she thought of those mangy mutts. The number of times she’d almost lost a cat to them—she should have kicked them out months ago.

“Hey!” Harley growled as she entered the room holding a tray laden with food. She was dressed as a sexy nurse, though that didn’t make her glare any less intimidating as she stomped her foot. “Stop being mean to my babies!”

Selina rubbed her forehead. By now, she should be used to Harley’s level of chaos and nonsense, but somehow the woman continued to surprise her. At least the soup looked decent. “Did you really need the outfit?”

Holding the tray in one hand, Harley arched her back and jutted her hip as she mimicked a pin up poster. “Of course! It’s part of the care package!” She blew a kiss to Ivy. “Don’t you just love it?”

Not caring a wit about the fanservice, Ivy’s expression grew colder than the tundra. “Pick one of them to die or they all will.”

“Neither!” Harley carefully set the soup down on her side table before turning to Ivy. She bent forward and poked her sick friend on the cheek. “I’ll take good care of you in exchange.”

“You’d have to do that anyways!” Ivy swatted her hand away, her scowl only increasing in intensity. “This happened because of you.”

“She has a point, you know.” Selina crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, more than content to just watch the show instead of participating. “We had a deal. Your hyenas are supposed to stay in the basement.”

“They do!” Harley pouted, puffing her cheeks as she glanced up at Selina. “I was only taking them out for a walkie.”

If Harley intended for that to be reassuring, it was the exact opposite. Selina groaned and closed her eyes. There were enough eyes on their shared residence without the hyenas as is. “Oh, so I should expect more missing pet flyers? These things are a nuisance.”

“They’re not things, they’re family.” Between the pig-tails and the pout, Harley was akin to a sulking toddler. Sometimes Selina couldn’t believe that she had a degree and keen intuition. “They just get hungry sometimes but they know better than to mess with you. Or your cats.”

“Oh, and is that why they tackled me?” Ivy asked, her smile as sharp as a razor blade at the slight. “Food? They think I’m weak?”

“They just bumped into you! It’s not their fault you were holding poison. And it didn’t just splash on you, it hit them!” Harley huffed, crossing her arms. She turned up her nose. “Maybe you should be more careful.”

Ivy’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Are you blaming me?”

Selina could practically feel the vines crawling through the pipes and concrete. She groaned. “Don’t break the place, I just finished paying for it.”

“My plants are hungry.” Ivy pushed her hair out of her face, steeling herself as she tried to get up. “Maybe I should give them a snack.”

Harley grabbed her shoulders and firmly pushed her down. “You’re still sick and stop saying that!”

At this rate, Selina was going to get a headache. Or become homeless. It was time to step in. Slowly, she approached the struggling pair. “Harley.” She rested her hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly. Just enough that the threat was there. “Next time, the hyenas are gone.”

Harley glanced at her, then looked away. “Fineeee.”

“Great.” Selina turned to Ivy and tried not to smirk. Maybe she should take a picture later, for blackmail. “It’s too late to go back to your room, just live with it.”

Ivy’s frown deepened, as though she heard Selina’s thoughts. “I—” she protested.

Harley cut her off. “If you want to leave, I have to feed you.”

“Huh?” Flabbergasted, Ivy stared at her.

Harley picked up a spoon. She smiled deviously. “Should I pretend this is a train? Or maybe a bee coming to pollinate?”

“…fuck you.” Ivy snatched the spoon.

“Great, we have a deal! I’ll go get a cooling pack.” Harley sprang to her feet. Blowing another kiss, she spun on her heel and skipped out of the room. “Just you wait, I have great patient care.”

“Fifty bucks says she kills you,” Selina said the second Harley disappeared.

“It’s not a bet if we’re both on the same side.” Ivy tucked her hair behind her ear and took a careful sip of the soup. “Huh, not bad.”

“So she really can cook.” Selina shook her head. Was it something Harley had picked up after she’d changed, or was it something a lonely psychiatrist had learned after pulling long shifts? “It’s not poisoned?”

“Probably not.” Ivy took another spoonful. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, as though absorbing information on it. Maybe she could; Selina never fully understood her meta abilities with plants and their poisons. “It’s fine.”

“Maybe I should bet she’ll actually heal you.” Selina reached forward, pressing a hand to Ivy’s neck. “Your fever doesn’t seem that high and if you can talk and eat like that, I guess that other poison didn’t actually hurt you that much.”

Ivy stiffened under her touch and Selina recoiled. They stared at each other for a long moment before Selina looked away. “Force of habit,” she muttered in lieu of an apology.

“Habit?” Ivy lightly touched her neck.

“That…it’s an old memory.” Selina clenched her hand. A very old memory. It had been years since she’d let herself think of her childhood on the streets, even longer since she let herself think of Maggie and Holly and how they used to be.

Ivy studied her before changing the topic. It was oddly tactful of her. “The poison was just a paralysis.”

“But you can move?”

“Barely.” Ivy flopped back on the bed, her hair spreading around her. “I doubt I could actually make it back to my room.”

“And here you were trying to act so strong.” Selina snickered. Maybe she should have let Ivy try, if only to see her flop off the bed and stumble down the hall. “I’ll get you a Tylenol.”

Ivy scowled. “I don’t need any medicine. It’s not like they work on me anyways.”

“That’s why you don’t turn your blood into a pharmacy cocktail,” Selina muttered, rolling her eyes. “Then I’ll just grab one for myself. If I have to keep dealing with your weird foreplay, I’ll need it.”

As she left, she dodged the plush piranha Ivy hurled. “You really are doing better,” Selina teased before disappearing down the hall.

In the distance, she could hear several small thuds as Harley got her care supplies. Clearly, she was going after more than just a cooling pack, and Selina was both scared and curious to find out what it was. Either way, she’d have to especially make sure she didn’t get sick after this. With Ivy’s vindictive personality, Selina would suffer two-fold in Harley’s hands.

A soft nudge shook her out of her stupor. Selina peeked down to find Alexander, a calico tom, brushing against her as she walked. She chuckled, reaching down to give him a good head rub before entering her bedroom.

Perhaps it was because she had worn a costume for years now, whether it was for good or evil, but Selina had a well-stocked medicine cabinet that could rival a drug store. Amidst ordinary painkillers and bandages, there were black market drugs to cover any niche injury. Selina’s finger brushed against each bottle as she checked for more over-the-counter solution.

The first one on the second row froze her.

With shaky fingers, she pulled it out and stared at it. A baby’s cough medicine. Grape flavoured. Only a third of it used. The bottle was brown.

Selina should have tossed it long ago. She should toss it now.

She wasn’t quite ready to let go of that dream, of her daughter returning home.

Pressing her forehead against the cabinet, Selina sighed. Ivy wasn’t the only one vulnerable tonight, it seemed. This wasn’t the time or place for these thoughts. They certainly weren’t the right people to have these thoughts around. Even now, Harley and Ivy still tried to pry into her relationship with Gotham’s protectors, hoping to extract the valuable secret identities she carefully guarded.

Who knew what they’d do if they found out about her daughter or her sister or any of the people Selina had stepped on to get to where she was now?

“This is stupid,” Selina muttered to herself as she returned to Harley’s room. She’d just make sure Ivy was alive, that Harley wasn’t up to no good, and then she’d retire for the day. It had been a trying couple of hours. She’d earned a rest.

“Are you seriously staying all night?” Ivy snarled.

A rest she was definitely not going to get. Selina braced herself as she entered Harley’s room. As expected, Ivy was still lying on the bed, though now with a neon blue ice-pack on her forehead. Her hands kept reaching it, trying to tear it off, but Harley kept swatting them back down.

Harley sniffed. “I have to, you’re too stubborn to heal up otherwise.”

The surprise was Harley. As usual. Perched on the bed right next to Ivy, she wrapped an arm around Ivy’s shoulders to hold her in place. The bowl of soup next to her was half-finished, so Selina didn’t have to worry if Ivy would starve tonight. On Ivy’s knees, a laptop perched precariously.

Noticing her return, Harley waved. “You’re back!”

“I thought I should keep the house in one piece,” Selina drawled, glancing at Ivy. “Ivy too, I guess.”

“Like you’d last ten minutes with just her,” Ivy scoffed, not buying the bluff.

“We’re watching a movie,” Harley interrupted, grinning. “Wanna join?”

“I…” Selina pursed her lips, her excuse on the tip of her tongue.

“Please?” Harley begged, batting her eyes. “With a cherry on top.”

“If you leave me alone with her, I’ll kill you.” Ivy crossed her arms as she leaned back, accepting her fate. “Sit on the bed but don’t get too comfortable. The second it’s done, you’re both out.”

“Comfortable?” Selina laughed, slipping into the empty space. “Like a cactus like you would let me.”

She didn’t need the reminder. She already knew better. The moment Selina got comfortable with them, the moment she spilled her secrets, these quiet moments would come to an end.

And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

[leatherbookmark]

tell us about abt old people chengqing!! :)

anon I am SO SORRY I saw this ask millennia ago and it was late so I was like ah! I'll reply tomorrow AND THEN I DIDN'T

anyway with old people chengqing I imagine a modern au they meet when they're already old. I think I should probably consider whether they'd have their spouses or grandchildren in this one but alas: I can't be arsed. so I'll just say that they meet in something like... hm. maybe it's a library or a culture center. maybe they live in the same neighbourhood and meet during a meeting about, idk, whether to build or not to build a new playground. who knows.

anyway, the thing is: they're similar. wq has never stopped saying what's on her mind, if anything, age has only made her care less about what people might say, because look. she's old. she's a retired doctor. can you prove she didn't assist your mother birthing you? you can't. are you gonna argue with someone who helped haul your ass into this world? no. sit down and shut up AND we're putting the money into the heating fund, flower beds can wait. (her speciality was cardiology and she didn't have That much experience with midwifery, but do people need to know that? also no.)

meanwhile jc learned to give less of a fuck what people, for example wei wuxians*, think about him, and this is also thanks to his age because you're gonna tell an old fart what to do? (at some point wwx told him that "old fart" does not suit such a fancy schmancy man as him. look at him. he's dressed way too neatly for a "fart". venerable flatus, perhaps. you're appropriating old fartery, a-cheng.) he often comes ready to Argue for his case, but then it turns out that either his suggestions are quite reasonable and everyone agrees, OR that wq has already given the people assembled a single Look and they suddenly found it in themselves to agree with her, oh, wholeheartedly.

*although whether wwx is a person or a nuisance sent to this green bitch of an earth specifically to torment jc, well that's a separate argument

so. they are being Shipped.

obviously -- one might say -- being old and bitchy at the same time and place does not mean you would make a good couple. tell that to the youths, though. you try and tell them. you accidentally bark at the kids to quiet down or watch out for their little sibling roughly at the same time and suddenly everyone's like ooh, isn't that cute! they catch you bitching about people who value looks over practicality and want the balconies to be renovated in a way that'll need further renovation in five years, utter idiocy, ONCE, and suddenly everyone's giggling, throwing you Looks, and asking if you've seen the flyers for dancing nights for the elderly.

of course you've seen them! you helped organise the whole thing. s o m e people need that, for interaction or something, and it needs to be done well, simple as that. no, they can't go. they've been there last month, the snacks were alright But this month they cannot. she has a book signing and he goes fishing with a-ling's youngest, you know how it is. maybe you kids should try other hobbies too, since you clearly have nothing else to do!

(the kids in question are like. 40-50.)

but. while it's annoying and bothersome, it's not like wq and jc actually hate each other. in fact, yeah, they like each other quite a lot, at least as much as you can like someone while like... coexisting. but this whole Thing with people making jokes like they were a bunch of schoolkids and not Old People does actually make them entertain, even just in their heads, the possibility of Getting To Know Each Other Better.

and while jc is, actually, interested -- she's a very intelligent, responsible woman, and physically she's quite excellent too -- he does get a bit shy in matters like these, so he just... doesn't really plan on doing anything, since he's quite pleased with how they are already. wq, however, does not like not knowing where she stands, so one day she just comes up to him -- when they're alone, mind you, she doesn't want to make a show for everyone out of this -- and goes, well, would you be interested in taking me dancing? and he. is glad he's put the book away, because his fingers twitch and he'd surely tear the paper. no, he says, i can organize this shit, but i don't like dancing at all. (there's a pause.) but if you were interested in going somewhere together, or getting something to eat...

(she is. and they go, like, right away, because a new cafe opened nearby and she wanted to try it, and then they go for a walk in the park and she tells him about her family, and he tells her about his, and they find another thing they have in common -- being surrounded by reckless fools, and also children -- and by the time a natural pause in their conversation arrives, one that happens because many topics have been exhausted, it's already dinner time, so now they go to a place jc likes... and by the time wgxn notice them it's too late to run away because they're in the middle of the soup, but jc suffers only a little because, see, the soup is good and so is this date, so really,)

[kowaibunn]

Hello there I stopped writing for a long time but i came back with an idea. i hope you enjoy this first person story told through the character Mo guan shan . I'd love some feed back to if i should continue or not. It’s a little teaser. Please enjoy! Christmas in September? Lmao I’m so sorry. 😂

———————————————————————

What a Nuisance

Ch 1: There’s this guy

Christmas time sucks. I'm always working More hours during this time. I need to pay the bills and go to school to get my education. I have little time for myself. Not like I have anything exciting to do after class anyways...

My work is slow. I work an evening shift where I pass out flyers or distribute free samples to potential customers. The restaurant is run by an old married couple. My winter uniform they make me wear is a thin, itchy Santa costume that comes with this stupid hat. The owners are nice people though, but I hate when they tell me to "smile more", that I'm scaring away the customers with my angry scowl. I could give a rats ass about being friendly with anyone. Call me the Grinch, like I care! I'm only hear for the money. Even if I tried to smile I would still be ignored by the the people passing by.

It's dark but the street lights are on. The streets are filled with people going home from work, they don't slow their pace even if you yell at them. Fuck this.

Every now and then I do get friendly people who take my offers on free samples. They chat for a bit and then they go off on their way saying they will come back next time to try out the restaurant. This one person in particular comes by consistently to have soup at the restaurant. Like to day for instance, this guy shows up with a black wool coat and a blue scarf. With shades so dark you can't see what's behind them. The air around him is intense, the atmosphere is heavy. He takes a sample from my tray and walks into the restaurant to have his meal. He's very polite to the shop owners, always giving a cheeky smile. Which obviously looks fake! Behind that smile is something much more dark. If looks could kill I sure would be dead...

He must have something up his sleeve. To come by and JUST drink soup. Honestly, who does that? Don't you have soup at home. What a luxury to always have dinner outside.

I think the old lady has taken a liking to him though. Always complimenting how tall and handsome he is. His black hair and and his good style. I guess some men are born perfect looking. Me? Not really. I often get mistaken for a thug when I'm not working. I get called a delinquent all the time. All the ladies must fall for him at his workplace with those looks. He always stops by alone though so I can't be to sure. Not that I care.

A few times we've made eye contact as he eats when ever he comes. As I enter the restaurant for more samples, he gives me that fake sweet smile of his. I don't know what he wants from me but he's not getting a compliment if that's what he's looking for. Guys like him are narcissistic. They get fed with compliments and think they are God or something. Trying to swoon the hearts of others, with his gentlemanly persona and good looks. What a phony. Even the old man enjoys his company, smiling and laughing at his jokes. Sounds more like the devil to be honest. Has those poor people wrapped around his little finger.

I give him an angry look as I pass by his table, who the fuck does he think he is? *tch* As I head for the door I feel a heavy gaze follow me as I head out. I don’t dare to look back. What the fuck is this feeling? It's very revolting. Something about him makes my skin crawl. It's really spine tingling chilly. The weather must be getting to me. Enough of him he's just a regular costumer who has dinner sometimes at a restaurant I'm working at. That's all there is to it.

Next

[satanfm]

hello! this is my smol messy child with a heart of gold lux !  i’m very excited to rp with all of you beauts, so pls give me all of your affection & plots 🥺 lux is twenty-three, a singer and professional nuisance to record companies, managers, collaborators, exes, and basically anyone who’s ever met her. positive traits are often overshadowed and forgotten due to the intensity of her negative traits.

chicago’s very own lux santana has been spotted on madison avenue driving a range rover , welcome ! your resemblance to sofia jamora is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re aggressive , but being confident might help you . i think being a leo explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be being soft and stone cold at the same, broken guitar strings, & singing songs under her breath. (lux doesn’t want children, so when she got pregnant she had an abortion and lied about it to the father by faking a miscarriage) & ( cis female & she/her) + ( hailey , 19 , she/her, cst)

— “ basics ! ’ 〉

full name. lux santana. 

nicknames. friends can her lux, and enemies call her satan. 

age. twenty-three. 

date of birth. july 26. 

occupation. singer/songwriter. 

sexual orientation. pansexual. 

birthplace. chicago. 

zodiac. leo. 

spoken languages. fluent in english, spanish & some french.

— “ backstory ! ’ 〉

satan ... i mean lux santana was actually born delilah humpries and raised in chicago. her father is one of those important political bigwigs and...all she knows about her mother is that she’s never known her mother.

her dad was the typical rich successful man who showered his child in all of the presents and money that she could ever ask for in order to make up for the fact that he was always too busy working to ever spend any actual time with her and instead left lux to be raised by a revolving door of nannies

from a young age it was obvious that lux had a talent for music & ofc her dad was willing to pay for her lessons so long as it kept her occupied so she started with singing and piano but moved on to learn a few other instruments including the guitar and even began dipping her toes into songwriting. by the age of 14 she had written and recorded a whole demo album in her bedroom and once it was done, she started sneaking out at night so that she could go hang around the local big name recording studios in the hopes that she would catch a producer leaving for the day and hopefully convince them to listen to her demo

she never did

sis really tried though. now ofc her dad could’ve paid a record company to just hand her a contract and she knew that, but dammit. lux wanted music to be her lifelong career and she wanted to earn it herself. she knew that she was genuinely talented even though her demo album was probs lowkey garbage lmao and she knew that she could be successful, and she didn’t want anyone to be able to say that she didn’t truly work for her career

she was so determined that she spent y e a r s relentlessly hounding record companies but no one would give her the time of day, so she developed a different strategy after seeing some flyers around the city and at the age of 16 she joined a local bar band who happened to seeking a lead singer...and got kicked out like two weeks later for being absolutely fucking insufferable

join local band in need of a lead singer. attempt to overhaul said band and push all of the other members into the background. face resistance from said other members. get angry, lash out, get kicked out of the band, repeat. it was a vicious cycle that went on for a couple years.

it was while she was in the midst of this vicious cycle that she met her (now ex) boyfriend and they were...whew. A WHOLE MESS. he was the frontman of a different band that was gaining more and more popularity by the day. he was older and he seemed so cool, and so ofc lux fell for him hard. they got together and appeared to be madly in love, but all was not perfect at all.

they were veeeery on and off, the type of couple to get in a screaming match and “break up” over nothing only to get back together like ten minutes later. this guy also wound up getting lux hooked on drugs, getting her arrested, getting her name plastered all over the tabloids for everything except her music, which was something that she still hadn’t quite found her footing in yet

until finally at the age of 19 she landed a record deal and, at the age of 21 after a lot of delays that had to do with her perfectionist nature and tumultuous relationship her first album was released and turned out to be a major success with all of the singles charting, lots of streams and airplay and a sold out debut tour that would unfortunately get cut short

so basically what happened was her bf showed up after one of her concerts and ofc they got high together, but then lux started to overdose. she passed out, but her bf thought she was dead and ofc he freaked out so, uh...he ran. literally bolted out of her tour bus and lux has not seen him since

fortunately she was found by someone else in time and rushed to the hospital. of course the rest of her tour was cancelled so that she could recover and she subsequently did the obligatory few months in rehab only to get out and immediately go back to using. that was over a year ago now and since then she’s been working on her second album aaaand it’s almost finished! people are starting to wonder what’s taking her so long and the answer is honestly just the fact that she’s nearly impossible to work with tbh

— “ fun facts / headcanons ! ’ 〉

lux is lux, not delilah. she uses the stage name in order to a) be pretentious and b) distance herself from her family name as a way to shut down the argument that it’s the only reason why she’s famous/successful. as for where the name came from? but yeah. lux, not delilah, or she’ll get all huffy.

pan af, has dated & hooked up with people both before and after her disaster bf and sometimes while they were “broken up” for all of ten minutes. tbh she kinda...gets with people solely to use them as songwriting material and then just dumps them when she’s gotten some material out of them? yikes! so she can be a bit of a heartbreaker.

since music is really the only thing in her life that she takes seriously, it’s what most of her energy tends to go into and it’s why she can be so impossible to work with. she’s always full steam ahead and she always thinks that she’s right, which doesn’t really pair well with the fact that she’s also very stubborn. recording studio employees have literally quit on her in the middle of a song more than once before bc they just couldn’t deal with her anymore. she’s that bad.

she’s quite intelligent and empathetic and genuinely talented but unfortunately her stubbornness and perfectionism and short temper often overshadow her best qualities and become all that people are able to see when they look at her. lux, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to realize that dialing back the attitude might help her in her quest to be just be taken seriously for fuck’s sake

she is the embodiment of ' 5′1 but attitude 6′2′.

can be v reckless, willing to try anything once.

she's v free spirited but can be flighty, never wanting to settle, always on to the next thing, whatever it may be.

big on living in the moment, future who?

— “ wanted plots ! ’ 〉

some potential wc i’m terrible at thinking of these so please don’t feel limited by this list!

best friends

step siblings

cousins

perhaps someone from her mom’s side of the fam

attempted good influence

exes ( she probs has a bunch who hate her )

former / current hookups ( again, she probably has a bunch )

ex friends / bridges she’s burned ( probs has more of these than anything else lmao )

straight up enemies

other singers or musicians who have tried to work with her

people she’s written songs about!

[ddproductionsw77]

Whatever You Want

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak), Stenbrough (Stan Uris x Bill Denbrough)

Characters: (Major) Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, (Minor) Stan Uris, Bill Denbrough, (Mentioned) Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Sonia Kaspbrak

Rating: T (Unless language offends you, then it’s M)

Description: Eddie is sick with the flu but there is no way he is going to compromise getting Richie sick or worrying him… Not when Richie has about a million other things going on outside of Eddie and Eddie knows it.

Author’s Note: Inspired by an idea of foulwitchqueen on Tumblr for Eddie being sick and not wanting to bug Richie when he’s super busy.

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Richie Tozier was fucking exhausted.

He was pretty sure he’d never been as busy in his fucking life as he was now. To be fair, he’d done it to himself. He didn’t let himself want too many things as a general rule. He’d been conditioned by a childhood of disappointment to not try too hard at anything; it was how he’d barely skated through high school and how he managed to get into college.

The only thing he could remember ever really wanting and trying for was Eddie but that was something completely different.

The point was in his sophomore year of college he found himself... wanting again.

He could blame his GE requirements or he could blame the fliers up in the quad or a million other things but really, he’d done it to himself. One communications class as an undecided freshman and he’d been hooked. It had been the first class he could ever remember actually buckling down in and he’d done well, really well actually. So he’d taken a few more classes second semester and declared a communication major at the start of sophomore year. And when he’s seen the audition flyers in the quad for a campus radio personality, simple disc jockeying... he’d gone for it and he’d gotten it.

The problem was now he was nearly three fourths through the year, taking and maintaining 18 credit hours and running the 4pm to 9pm slot of the campus radio, queuing music and doing some of his impressions between cramming for his midterms next week. Not to mention actively dating and living with his boyfriend and regularly meeting up with and seeing his friends... he was just so fucking exhausted.

Getting home, Richie tossed his keys on the little table next to the door Eddie had gotten for them to put their shoes under and rubbed the back of his neck. Dropping his backpack down beside the same table, he made his way to the kitchen and glanced at the clock on the stove. 9:47. Fucking typical.

Digging around, he found everything he needed for a sandwich and quickly threw one together, staving because he hadn’t eaten since noon. Taking his first bite, a thought occurred to him and he was actually surprised he was only now thinking it.

Where’s Eddie?

Usually, he’d stumble in close to 10 and he’d start making himself something to eat and before he could finish, Eddie would be padding out from the living room to scold him about eating a vegetable or some shit. But his favorite adorable little nuisance was nowhere to be found. Downing his sandwich in a few bites, Richie went off in search of his boyfriend.

He found him almost immediately.

Eddie was sprawled across the couch, the textbook for his Basic Nursing course open on the ground beneath him liked he’d been attempting to read it and couldn’t keep his eyes open. Richie smiled involuntarily at the pure cuteness of his boyfriend before he went to crouch down beside the couch, picking up the textbook and gently setting it on the coffee table before reaching over to run his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

Richie waited, expecting Eddie to groan and smack his hand away like he normally did but the boy only half mumbled something Richie couldn’t make out before snuggling himself up closer, leaning into Richie’s light touch as his breathing slowed again.

Confused, Richie glanced at the clock again, double checking it wasn’t later than he thought... Eddie never fell asleep this early. In fact, Eddie pretty much never fell asleep before Richie. He was always the last of the two of them to drift off and the first one to slip out of bed in the morning. He was a light sleeper, waking up every time Richie used the bathroom or a car alarm outside went off.

He was never this fucking out of it.

“Eddie,” Richie sighed, reaching out to wiggle the other’s ear, “Eds, baby, come on. You can’t sleep on this couch, it’s shit.”

Slowly, groggily, Eddie’s eyes fluttered open and he looked at his boyfriend, who was still lightly tugging on his ear. Reaching up, he shoved Richie’s hand away, “G’the fuckoff.”

“Come on, get your cute ass up so we can get you to bed. I don’t feel like carrying you bridal style tonight.” Richie smirked as Eddie groaned and ran a hand down his face, sitting up. “Textbook that boring, huh?”

Eddie looked up at him confused, “What?”

“It’s barely ten and you’re passed out and you usually find boring bullshit like this,” He lifted the nursing textbook from the coffee table, “Interesting,” He smirked at Eddie’s unamused glare, setting the book back down to stand and take his boyfriend’s hands, pulling him up beside him.

Eddie rolled his eyes, one corner of his mouth curling upward as he shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe I just didn’t sleep well last night. You sure as hell wouldn’t shut the fuck up.”

“You’re the one who forgot to get me more snoring strips,” Richie replied defensively.

Eddie shot him a look over his shoulder as he lead the way to their bedroom, “Nasal strips, dumbass. And you didn’t put them on the grocery list so no I didn’t forget them, I just didn’t fucking get them.”

Reaching the bedroom doorway, Richie reached out and carefully grasped Eddie’s wrist, tugging him back into his arms. Eddie easily fell into place there, putting up no fight. Softly, Richie asked, “How was your day?”

Eddie shrugged, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck, “Not my best but I’ll be fine. Yours?”

“Fucking exhausting and I missed you the whole damn time,” Richie whined into the hair on top of Eddie’s head.

Eddie sighed, sweeping his hands over Richie’s chest, “I missed you too,” He pulled back to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, “I’m just really ready go to bed.”

“What so we can get up and do the whole fucking thing again?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, slipping from Richie’s arms to do to his dresser and change into pajamas, “That’s life, babe.”

“Our life,” Richie managed an exhausted smile as he watched Eddie from the doorway. It’d been years now since Eddie had worried about being naked in front of him.

Throwing on a long AC/DC t-shirt and boxers, Eddie turned to his boyfriend and gave him an exaggerated look, “Our life, yes.”

“Together,”

“Together, now shut the fuck up and come to bed, you sappy dipshit.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Eddie woke up, his head pounding, body aching and the bed empty beside him. Groaning, he covered his eyes and rolled over, gripping the comforter closer as a chill ran through his body. Taking a deep breath in, he swallowed and his heart sank.

It hurt to swallow.

Bolting up in bed, Eddie swung his feet over the side of the bed and immediately regretted it, spots appearing in his vision as his head throbbed. Hissing, he clutched his forehead and used his other hand to steady himself, “Fuck!”

After a moment of adjustment, he attempted to get up again while breathing in and out slowly and purposely. As he tried, he found himself forced to cough and pause to make sure he didn’t make himself sick. Shaking his head, he grimaced the whole way to the bathroom down the hall, muttering, “Shit, shit, shit!”

Pulling open the mirror medicine cabinet, he grabbed their thermometer and carefully put on one of the protective plastic sleeves before sticking it under his tongue. He knew for a fact Richie didn’t used the fucking covers and if he by some miracle didn’t have a fever, he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask for one…

He recognized the irony of being more than willing to stick his actual tongue in Richie’s mouth a beat later.

Once the thermometer beeped, he checked the results and groaned.

One—oh—fucking—two point nine.

“Shit,” He moaned miserably as his throat burned and head throbbed. Padding begrudgingly out of the bathroom, he went back to the bedroom and glanced at the clock next to Richie’s side. It was Friday, he didn’t have any classes on Fridays and he didn’t have to get to work at the Village Grocery for another two hours.

I just need a little more sleep, he thought already feeling drowsy again. His head hurt so much less when his eyes were closed. Just a little more sleep and then he’d be fine…

But an hour later when Eddie startled awake again, his—well, Richie’s—AC/DC shirt sticking to his back, he had to admit he might need more than just a little sleep. Bring a hand up to his cheek, he found it worryingly warm.

Yup, he was sick.

“Fuuuuck,” He groaned again, throwing his hand down on the mattress.

Coughing, he crawled across the bed and picked up the phone, quickly dialed his manager at The Village Grocery. Apologizing profusely, he called off work and started to lay back down before a thought struck him.

Fuck, what about Richie?

Sure, Eddie hated calling off work but one shift was manageable without getting fired. That wasn’t exactly true for Richie. The campus was filled with wannabe disc jockeys and Richie had been giving a three strike policy on his first day, three days off for any reason and he was fired. Not to mention if Richie got sick, he could possibly miss classes during fucking midterm week.

No way could any of that happen. First of all, they were barely making rent as was with his thirty-six hours and Richie’s twenty-five hours a week. It wasn’t like grocery stores and internships paid well. Second, if Richie got fired, they’d be basically forced to move in to some cheaper, even shittier place further away from campus, thus throughly screwing them even more. And third, Richie could possibly fail a whole course if he missed a midterm or a due date.

So, no way that could fucking happen.

Picking up the phone again, Eddie called the only person he could think of at that moment to help.

_______________________________________________________________________

Richie came home late again on Friday night, rolling his shoulders as he schlepped off his backpack and called out, “Spaghetti Man! Bev wants us all to go see this band she found. It’s gonna be fucking lame but I said we were—“

He paused, noticing a note left on the counter next to the fridge. Looking around, he went over and picked it up, eyebrows drawing together.

Richie—

Went to stay at Stan and Bill’s. Studying for midterms so no interruptions, okay, asshole?

Stay home and feed yourself, I’ll be back.

Eddie

P.S. By feed I mean BALANCED MEALS!

A small heart had been drawn beside Eddie’s name. I love you in his boyfriend’s written language.

The whole thing didn’t sit quite right with him. Eddie didn’t usually leave the apartment to study… actually his go to move for avoiding distractions at home was to lock himself in the bathroom and sit with his textbooks and notes in the empty tub. They’d argued about it a few times in the past.

Still, why would Eddie lie about studying? And why lie if he could easily be caught? All Richie would have to do was call the nausea-inducing Stenbrough train and ask if his precious little Eddie Spaghetti was there. Which, he told himself rather firmly, he wasn’t going to do.

He trusted Eddie. If Eddie said he was subjecting himself to Bill and Stan’s PDA so he could study then that was probably the truth.

Rolling his eyes, Richie set the note down and muttered, “Fucking dumb ass balanced meals bullshit…” He left the kitchen and went to change into something he cared about less to go and meet the others.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Drink,” Stan held out a glass of water to Eddie as the boy exited the bathroom, having just been sick for a fourth time since his arrival.

Eddie gave the glass a look of intimidation before shaking his head, “Give me another ten minutes.”

Stanley sighed, “If you get dehydrated, we’ll end up having to take you to the fucking hospital so which would you prefer, drinking this now or hydrating through an IV in a few hours?”

Glaring, Eddie took the glass and gingerly sipped its contents as Stan lead him back to the couch. He laid down and Stanley helped cover him in two layers of blankets, reaching out to feel his forehead, “Eddie, drinking or not, if your fever doesn’t break soon—“

“Shut up, Stanley!” Eddie groaned, “I just want to go back to sleep.”

“How you two doing?”

Stan looked over the back of the couch to see his live-in boyfriend had returned from his single Friday afternoon class. Meeting Bill’s eye, he made a face that meant nothing to Eddie, watching them from his spot on the cushions but obviously made sense to Bill because a second later the other boy said, “Eddie, have you taken your tuh—temperature in a while?”

“An hour ago, it'd gone up to 104.3,” Stan answered for Eddie, “He hasn’t let me take it since but I think he’s warmer.”

“Fucking snitch,” Eddie whined, burying his head down away from the light of the living room.

Bill shook his head, “Ignorance is not bliss, Eddie. Y—you more than anybody should want to know how sick you are.”

Eddie glared into the darkness beneath the covers, “It’s the fucking flu. It’s what everyone goddamn has right now. And I am training to be a registered nurse, you know. Being sick doesn’t scare me anymore!”

“But hospitals do,” Stan quipped, glancing between Bill and Eddie with his arms crossed over his chest, “Threaten to take him to a hospital and he’ll basically do whatever.”

“It is not the hospital!” Eddie shot back, tugging off the covers just to glare at Stan, “It’s…being an actual patient.”

“What does that even mean?” Stan asked, looking up at his boyfriend, silently asking if he knew.

Bill did know.

Bill and Eddie had been closer when they were younger, a lot closer. In fact, they’d been friends with each other before even becoming friends with Richie and Stan, even though only by a year. There were things about that that made their dynamic just different from the others. Richie and Stanley had a similar connection to each other; they just knew things that the others didn’t or got things before the others did.

Things like this.

Shifting on his feet, Bill sighed, “His muh—mom. Being a patient reminds him of his mom.”

After a moment, the explanation clicked for Stan and he suddenly couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together before. Of course being locked up and plied with different prescription drugs would remind Eddie of his mother. She’d spent nearly thirteen years of his life doing exactly that to him before he’d figured out it was all bullshit.

Stan cringed and leaned over Eddie, “Hey, okay, no hospital but you have to let me take your temperature, deal? You can sleep a bit but when I ask, you have to do it.”

Eddie nodded mutely, eyes closed as he was already drifting back off.

Bill went over to his boyfriend, looking down at their sickly friend with his brow set in concern. Softly, he reached out and ran his fingertips along Stan’s arm, “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much.”

Stanley sighed and leaned into Bill’s touch, weaving their fingers together, “I know… he just worries so much about everyone and everything else. He needs someone to worry about him, at least a little.”

Bill laughed, tugging Stanley from the living room, “Usually Ri—Richie’s all over that. Where is he? You only said on the phone that Eddie was s—sick.”

“Yeah, well,” Stan sighed in minor annoyance, “He doesn’t want Richie to know he’s sick. Pretty stupid plan in my opinion, like those two don’t have some weird psychic connection between them, but whatever. I told him I wouldn’t say anything.”

Bill shrugged, “Well, it might be pointless anyway. Bev invited everyone out tonight; suh-someone’ll notice the three of us aren’t there.”

“He told Richie he was coming over here to cram for midterms next week,” Stan said, shaking his head. He leaned forward quickly to peck Bill’s lips before starting on dinner, “I feel like we’ll be seeing Richie sometime tomorrow with the whole thing figured out. As much as he acts like one, he’s not an idiot.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Richie woke up the next morning feeling about as exhausted as he had felt going to sleep, if not more. His whole fucking night had been nothing but tossing and turning. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone and when he did have to, it never went well. He couldn’t get comfortable without Eddie to snuggle or spoon and if he managed to fall asleep, he was more prone to nightmares when his better half was gone too.

Sitting up, he looked at the clock and smirked. It was getting close to noon and if Eddie were home, he’d have been telling Richie off right about then for potentially fucking up his sleep schedule.

Your day and night cycle are a delicate balance, genius. You screw with it and I promise you’ll fucking regret it, He could almost hear his boyfriend in his ear.

Speaking of his boyfriend… Noon, huh?

Eddie would be at work right then, would have started his shift at nine and only be about halfway through. Smirk widening, Richie got up and quickly got dressed, planning on paying his Eddie Spaghetti a little surprise visit.

The Village Grocery wasn’t far from the apartment, a stroke of pure luck honestly since Eddie’d had the job since before they’d moved in together. Richie could walk it relatively easily if New York traffic was agreeable. Slipping on his Chucks, he hopped out of the door, locking the place up behind him.

The walk only took fifteen to twenty minutes, Richie guessed. He didn’t wear a watch, usually just grabbing Eddie’s arm and using his when he needed one. When he made it to the front of the store, he paused looking through the glass sliding door. Eddie wasn’t at any of the registers. Generally, he usually just rung people up; only stocking or anything else if he was picking up someone else’s slack.

It was a small store, during the later hours only one or two employees would be present at a time and even at 12:30 Richie only saw three people in uniform when he went inside. Being blasted by a cold jet of air from the AC, he went over to the only vaguely familiar face he could find.

“How’s it hanging, Mary?” Richie asked, going to lean up against one of the empty check-out stations where a curvy, olive skinned girl stood.

Marisol turned to him, eyebrows coming together, “Better if it weren’t for your boyfriend.”

Marisol was the only employee remaining who’d been working at the store since Eddie started. They were casual work friends and she’d joined the Losers once or twice to hang out. She was nice enough and according to Eddie, was easy to kill time with.

Richie quirked an eyebrow, “Just the person I wanted to hear about! And where is he around here anyway?”

Mary stared at him for a moment, startled, “What do you mean ‘where is he’? I assumed home with you.”

“It’s Saturday,” Richie shrugged, tapping mindlessly on the divider between them, “He always works on Saturdays.”

“Except that he called in sick this Saturday,” Marisol said slowly, shaking her head, “Which is why you can tell him that he owes me big time for covering for him on a weekend shift.”

Richie stood for a moment, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on before starting to back away, “Right, sick… Cool, Mary, I’ll tell him, check you later!”

Leaving the store, Richie quickly haled a cab and headed toward Bill and Stan’s.

_______________________________________________________________________

Eddie awoke to a cool washcloth being placed carefully on his forehead. He hummed in relief, slowly pulling the stands of sleep away from his brain before slipping his eyes open. Richie’s hand slipped down from his forehead to his cheek, lightly pinching it as he smiled lightly, “Even flushed and feverish, you’re fucking adorable, Eds.”

“Whaddya doin’ here?” Eddie whined, “You’re suppose to stay away!”

Richie rolled his eyes, brushing Eddie’s sweaty hair back out of the way of the washcloth, “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you’re suppose to tell me shit like when you’re sick. Let’s call it even, huh?”

“I didn’t wanna get you sick…” Eddie mumbled, reaching up to put a hand over his eyes to block out the light of the room, “You’ll get fired and flunk outta school…”

Cocking his head, Richie let out a single laugh, “I think you’re blowing this a bit out of proportion, honey bunny. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to take care of you, sickness and in health and all that,” He shrugged, continuing to play with Eddie’s hair, “And if you’re gonna fucking bite it from the Black Plague, I wanna go out with you anyway.”

“It’s not the fucking Black Plague, dickwad,” Eddie pinched his nose, “It’s just the flu.”

Eddie heard only silence for a long moment.

“Eddie,” Richie said, his tone taking on a sincerity that Eddie knew he, and he alone, got to hear. Peaking out from under his eyelids, he hummed in acknowledgement. Richie continued, “Please don’t pull something like this again. Please just… talk to me next time?”

Eddie sighed, looking up at the ceiling as guilt filled his chest. Richie wasn’t exactly a please machine. He used the word about a sparingly as Eddie tended to used the L-O-V-E word. At least, in a non-joking manner. It was actually pretty fucking unfair because it meant that when he did drop it, it was fucking impossible to deny him whatever he was asking for.

Swallowing and cringing at the searing in his throat, Eddie nodded, “Okay.”

Richie let out a long breath and nodded, reaching out for Eddie’s hand to lace their fingers together.

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, all the air in his lungs seeming to evaporate as he took in the sight of his boyfriend lightly playing with his fingers and the way he was mindfully tracing patterns on the back of his hand. He realized suddenly Richie had been worried; that he was still worried.

He didn’t have to say so… with Richie silences tended to mean more than the words that the boy so often wasted on meaningless things and sometimes the only way to get an honest answer out of him was to watch his body language. Eddie read Richie better than anyone else, even when he was running a fever.

“Stan said my fever broke a couple hours ago,” He supplied, wanting nothing more in that moment than to stop Richie’s worrying. “It’s been going down… just takes time for the body to bounce back from high fevers. But I—I’m fine, Rich. Really.”

Richie glanced at their intertwined hands for a long moment before looking up and cracking his usually smirk, “Well, thank fuck for that because I can not afford rent with my broke ass alone.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it when his head throbbed in protest and his stomach churned. He groaned, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand, “Richie?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Take me home,” He whined, looking over at his boyfriend, “Stan and Bill’s couch is somehow fucking worse than ours.”

Richie laughed and nodded, squeezing Eddie’s hand back, “Whatever you want, Eddie, my love.”

[weartirondad]

These Hands Could Hold The World (But It’ll Never Be Enough)

Prompt: Field Trip - i need a fic called "the 5 times tony went to peter's school and the one time peter went to tony's work/meeting/SI" by Anon

Warnings: Major Character Death (no description of actual death!), dissociation (not quite but just in case)

A/N: WE CAN FINALLY POST OUR FIRST PIECE FOR THE 1K CELEBRATION AND WE’RE SUPER EXCITED TO SHARE IT WITH YOU! 

FF.net I ao3

i.

The first time Tony sets foot into Midtown School of Science and Technology, he’s immediately overcome with everything he has always hated about high school.

There is the smell. Putting several hundred pubescent teenagers into small hallways and tiny classrooms tends to create a special kind of odor that makes him want to cover his mouth and nose with his hands as soon as the smell hits him. Of course he doesn’t do that, even though he’s about seventy five percent certain that either someone has died in there or the cafeteria has already started to prep for lunch. Maybe both.

He doesn’t dwell on it as he saunters through the empty hallways gracefully, taking in the lockers with all their dents of past fights and hissy fits and maybe one or two bad break ups. He remembers his year in high school vividly enough to remember what the insides of them look like. He hopes Peter hasn’t made similar experiences, he hopes his kid has been spared some of the torment that comes with being a genius in a world full of people whose thoughts are running so much more slowly and organized than your own.

Midtown is supposed to be better, though, with it being a STEM school it’s supposed to encourage thinking outside the box and nurture given talent. At least that’s what all the flyers are saying that May shoved into his chest the second he mentioned that Peter’s intellect might be better off in a private school.

Now, as per usual, May Parker has been absolutely right to keep her nephew with people of his age and not to tear the one friendship apart that has lasted a literal decade already despite their young ages. And while he hasn’t gotten another word in on the whole ‘which school is the right school’ debate, she has asked him to step up as one of Peter’s emergency contacts.

Which settles his anxious heart a little more than he would like to admit.

He tried to play it off with a wave of his hand and a “Sure, just put my number there. It’s fine.” but May didn’t buy it and simply smiled at him knowingly.

Tony isn’t sure what it is about Potts and Parker women that gives them the ability to just look through all his masks within seconds. Frankly, it’s scaring him a little to be that see-through but he’s been together with Pepper long enough to know that it’s usually for the best that they know what’s going on.

Apparently, though, the school didn’t believe it when one May Parker came up to them to put Tony Stark as her nephew’s emergency contact so, in mutual agreement of Pepper and May he is now making the way to Midtown himself. With an actual appointment. Like some normal parent wanting to talk about their normal child. As if anything about any part of their relationship was normal.

So here he is, pretending that this trip is a nuisance to a perfectly planned day full of very important appointments while secretly being relieved to get out of one of the countless board meetings. And, maybe he is looking forward to getting a glimpse at the reason for it all.

He’s already walked through most of the school and is about to turn left to follow the sign pointing him to the principal’s office when he hears a familiar high-pitched voice calling his name behind him. He grins.

“Mister Stark? What are you doing here?” Peter looks suspicious now that he’s recovered from his initial shock and maybe a little worried. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great, buddy,” Tony finds himself reassuring the kid and, as soon as he’s within reach, he puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently, pulling the teenager into his side momentarily. It’s crazy how instinctual these moves have become. “I’m just here to talk to your principle and sign some papers.”

Peter squints up at him skeptically. The motion makes his nose scrunch up and wrinkles appear on his forehead. He looks positively endearing.

“You’re not gonna buy the school, are you?”

And, even as he starts venting about what kind of picture the kid has of him, he has to admit that he would absolutely buy the school if he thought it would get Peter an advantage somehow. Good thing it doesn’t. He doesn’t want to have that conversation any time soon.

“Nah,” he shrugs finally, “May wants to put another emergency contact for you should she be busy and somehow the school didn’t believe her when she gave them my name.”

The kid snorts but his shoulders slump a little. “Yeah, I mean why would anyone believe that you even knew me?”

“Mister Parker!” a loud voice hollers through the hall then, making both Tony and Peter jerk in surprise. (And maybe Tony’s hand is going to his gauntlet watch and maybe he’s positioned himself between Peter and the noise but no one has to know that, right?)

“What are you doing in the hallways during class?”

A person accompanies the voice. A very non- threatening person in the form of a middle-aged well-rounded blonde secretary who peeks out from behind the office’s doors. Tony relaxes at the sight and puts a casual arm around the kid’s shoulders and a charming smile on his face just in case the teenager is actually in the wrong here.

Peter just waves a bleached out hallway pass at her and mumbles something about coming from the bathroom.

Tony really doesn’t like how the kid shrinks in on himself under her watchful gaze, as if he’s minutes away from being punished for something and he doesn’t meet his eyes.

“It’s a fateful coincidence, though,” he breaks the awkward silence and tugs on Peter’s jacket to drag the kid along to the office, “As I am here for Peter.” His smile is so forced it starts to hurt his cheeks but he keeps it in check like he always does. “His aunt and I have come to the conclusion that it would be for the best if he had two emergency contacts and that the second emergency contact should be me. You know, in case he’s sick and needs adult supervision to leave.”

“I-Uh-I-“

She stutters for another two minutes and Tony’s sure he’s broken something inside her. But he feels Peter’s body shake with suppressed laughter, still tucked into his side, and decides that it’s one of the best feelings in the world.

“I can just write down my name and number real quick,” he offers finally and earns himself a frantic nod and a pen almost stabbed through his hand in the flurry she creates getting the paper ready.

It’s pretty anticlimactic, if Tony’s being honest, but by the time they leave the principal’s office he’s at least in some way officially responsible for this kid and said kid is beaming up at him, his eyes shining again.

“I’ll see you later?” It’s more of a fact that they meet up on Wednesdays after school but Peter still manages to phrase it like a question he expects to be denied.

“We will, kiddo,” Tony smiles and ruffles his hair, earning himself an annoyed grunt, “We’ll get ice cream on our way to the tower. Now get back to learning important stuff.”

He pushes him away gently and watches the boy until he disappears into one of the classrooms. There’s a skip in his step now and he’s walking more upright and if that’s all Tony’s presence in his school accomplishes than he would take another eternity of the obnoxious smell that is high school.

  ii.

“Mister Stark?”

“Kid?” Tony frowns and checks the caller ID again. “Why are you whispering? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

A pause follows in which the billionaire can only pick up on hushed voices and a door slamming shut before Peter replies. “I am. I just- uh.”

He’s still whispering but his faint voice breaks halfway through the sentence and he sounds more nasal than usual. Tony’s on his feet immediately, ignoring the frantic whirring of Dum-E who only just catches the screwdriver before it can fall into the wiring of the newest version of Rhodey’s leg braces.

“Are you crying?”

“Uh- No, I mean,” and the way he lets out a very deliberate breath into the phone, tells Tony enough to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to unlock his fastest car and open the garage.

It’s what Pepper calls his kid-in-distress mode and it’s worrying how often it has come into action in the last couple of months. He doesn’t dwell on the fact how instinctual worrying for Peter has become, how vital the kid’s wellbeing is to his own.

“C-can you come and get me?”

“Already on my way, buddy. What happened?”

.

Tony’s heart doesn’t stop racing until he’s in front of the locker room and Ned opens the door for him. Really, it doesn’t stop racing even when he meets Peter’s glazed eyes and drops to his knees next to where the teenager is curled into himself on the floor, it just settles enough for his hands to stop shaking and his voice to come out even. No need to agitate Peter any further.

“Hey there,” he greets him with a quick card through the sweaty curls, “how’s the ankle going?”

“Think i-it’s broken,” the kid stammers, eyes squeezing shut in pain when Tony’s hand settles on his shin ever so lightly. “I-I can’t walk. It hurts really badly. A-and May wouldn’t p-pick up a-and –“

He shushes him with a wave of his hand and reassures him before he can start apologizing again because really, he doesn’t look like he’ll manage to keep his cool for much longer. The kid’s a trooper but broken bones just fucking hurt. No matter how enhanced one is. Not that he knows but Steve once described it as being even worse because the pain is just much more easily perceptible.

“I’ve already called Bruce and he’s prepping the med bay for you so he can put you back together the second we get to the tower, alright?” He doesn’t wait for Peter’s nod and simply keeps talking, trying to distract the kid to the best of his abilities while he prepares to lift him. “You’ve always wanted to meet The Bruce Banner, right? He’s a pretty cool guy. Got a bit of an anger management issue but otherwise – ”

That gets a choked laugh out of him which is all Tony can hope for at this point.

As he’s squatting down beside Peter he’s grateful for how stretchy his workshop pants always are and that he’s regularly lifting a multiple of the lightweight that is this particular teenager. He moves slowly to let Peter know exactly what he’s going to do and when he adjusts his grip one last time, under his knees and ribcage, he waits for the kid’s final yes before lifting him up.

Even though he knew when it would happen, he still can’t keep a small whimper from escaping his lips and it pierces through Tony’s heart like a poisoned arrow. He waits for Peter to sling an arm around his neck and nestle into his chest more securely before he starts walking.

Every step seems to be agony and so, in an attempt to distract, he starts talking again.

“I thought your Spider Sense is supposed to warn you if there’s danger not get you into an accident.”

“It’s not that easy,” Peter mutters through gritted tears, “It basically goes up for everything and anything that might possibly be dangerous. It just took me by surprise is all.”

With Ned’s help Tony carefully maneuvers his precious cargo through the door and into the, thankfully, deserted hallway. “And it made you trip and break your ankle?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “It’s really not as glorious to get bitten by a radioactive spider as people make it out to be. Spidey sense sucks.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever made it out to be glorious, if I’m being honest, kid,” Tony quips. He’s breathing a little easier now that they’ve almost reached the front doors. “You just-“

Before he can finish the great joke he has lined up, another voice interrupts them.

“I’m sorry, sir. What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Now that he thinks about it, it does look a little like a kidnapping the way he’s carrying a visibly uncomfortable teenager through creepy school hallways.

“I can explain that,” he says as he turns around to face a teacher who has the good thinking of taking a step back once he sees who he’s talking to. “You see, the kid tripped and sprained his ankle and he can’t walk anymore so I’m taking him to a doctor. I admit I should’ve thought of signing him out with your secretary but I was kind of –“

- too worried to think straight because this kid has wormed his way deep into the dark abyss that is my soul. Promise I’ll call ahead next time.

“You can’t just take a child out of school!” The teacher glares, taking a step closer and looking like he is about to take Peter from him. Which does not bode well with Tony.

“Oh really?” He snaps, tightening his grip on Peter and pulling him closer to his chest protectively. “I would really like to see you try and stop me taking my kid out of school to see a f- freaking doctor for his ankle.”

He is about to venture a tirade about the school’s inability when Peter’s small voice cuts him off.

“It’s okay, Mister Daniel,” he says with a forced smile, “Mister Stark is my emergency contact and he’s totally allowed to take me out of school in, you know, emergencies. Can you please let the secretary know? My ankle is hurting really badly.”

Tony expected more of an argument but it seems not even actual functioning adults can deny this kid anything and so he’s allowed to carry Peter through the doors and into his car without much more fanfare.

“What do you say – we let Bruce set your bone and then get ice cream?”

Peter nods slowly as he sinks down into the leather seats of the car. “You really think of me as your kid?”

The billionaire meets his mentees eyes shortly before pulling out into traffic. “Of course I do. I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”

Somehow the media finds out about Tony calling Peter his kid and headlines of Tony Stark’s illegitimate son dominate the papers and social media for weeks. The teacher is fired immediately, and Tony and Peter?

Well, Tony figures that at some point the world would have to find out about the kid he intends to make the heir of his multi-million dollar company. And Peter doesn’t like the press but there are worse things than being called ‘my kid’ by one Tony Stark.

 iii.

When May texts him that she has something important she wants to talk to him about, Tony’s mind draws up a list of one hundred and forty three reasons how he has fucked up in the matter of a few minutes.

The question whether he wants to join her for the upcoming parent teacher conference is not on that list. In fact, it’s not even in the realm of things that he thought would ever be on any list other than ‘Bad ideas. Do not do.’

However, in May’s eyes it is, apparently, the next logical step in their road to co-parenting their vigilante superhero genius kid and so he doesn’t question it and rather just nods along when she’s listing everything he has to remember, topics they have to address and teacher they want to talk to. He’s glad F.R.I.D.A.Y. is smart enough to record the phone talk because his mind shuts down after the opening question.

After May leaves him to his thoughts and the contents of their conversation slowly trickle into the conscious part of his brain, he’s excited.

He never thought it to be possible to be as excited as he is about something so incredibly ordinary. But he is giddy with joy. This is his kid and he gets to be part of his normal life, outside of the whole superhero mentoring business they have going on. It makes his chest feel almost painfully full with emotions he can’t quite wrap his head around.

Tony is nothing if not thorough and by the time the PTC rolls around, he has planned everything to a tee and there are fail saves for his fail saves in place because this has to be perfect. He won’t be satisfied with anything short of an excellent meeting and he doesn’t care about the jabs he’s fallen victim to from both women and Peter himself.

This is important.

And, much to everyone’s surprise, the evening actually goes along without a hitch.

May and Tony have reached a comfortable pace of silent conversations and friendly jokes on the other’s dime and they stand strong on anything that is for Peter’s best (though what exactly that is differs sometimes). So, more than a forced co-parenting meeting, it feels like he’s here with a friend and partner in crime and he doesn’t understand why any parent would ever miss out on it.

They’re in the middle of a conversation with Peter’s art teacher who’s swooning over their next field trip to the Museum of Modern Art, when Tony pauses and ends up interrupting her long monologue about all the skills and knowledge the students are supposed to be taking away from it.

“Are there any field trips planned to visit universities?” By May’s gaze that wanders over him and settles on the woman in front of them questioningly, he can tell that that was a good question.

The teacher stutters for a moment before telling them to talk to one of the science teachers about that which, of course, they do.

And that ends up being one hell of a long conversation that evolves mostly around money issues that Tony just stops with a wave of his hand and a patient tone that Pepper would be proud of.

“The school is only allowed a certain amount of field trips for each class,” the physics teacher tells him again, “We’re a state funded school and simply don’t have the expenses to do more, even if we want to give our seniors the possibility to look at their options. And the trip to the museum has been voted for by most of his class members. I’m really sorry, but there’s not much I can do about that, Mister Stark.” He sounds apologetic and it’s the only thing keeping Tony from making a show of rolling his eyes.

Instead he leans forward and tries out the calm approach he has perfected in his trial runs for this exact situation.

“Expenses aside,” he starts and May besides him shoots him a half grin because she knows exactly where he’s going with this and for once she’s not going to keep him from waving the billionaire card. “Would it be possible for the kids to make a trip to, let’s say, MIT? Normal field trip, just a day and for purely educational purposes, of course.”

Mister Bryant cocks his head to one side, seeming to go over the schedule for the year before he nods, “Hypothetically speaking we could probably replace one of our project days with a visit to a university but –“ he pauses and meets Tony’s gaze a little sheepishly, “Maybe it would be more manageable to go to a university that’s a little closer. Columbia maybe.”

“Ah,” Tony shakes his head with a small grin, “No, I really think Peter and his classmates should be able to look at the best possible option and that is not Columbia, trust me. I’ve been there.” He leans back then, legs crossed and hands resting calmly on top of his knees. “I really think that MIT would be the best choice. I’ve still got some pull on campus and the flight from New York to Massachusetts is only about an hour.”

“I-uh I –“ Mister Bryant falters for a moment and gulps when he looks between May and Tony, a united front that does not take no for an answer but he tries anyway, “I think that would go way beyond the scope of what we can afford even if you did donate to the school, there’s just no way we can pay for plane tickets and –“

Now it’s Tony’s turn to frown in confusion, “Who said anything about me donating to your school?” Which, to be fair is phrased in a way that can be misunderstood easily and he enjoys the look of pure terror on the teacher’s face for only a second before he presses on. “I mean, I will of course support the school wherever I can but I am going to pay for that trip. And we will be taking my private plan so there won’t be any need for tickets and long waiting times at icky airports.”

That’s when the man in front of them finally cracks and starts thanking them on hands and knees for their support and frankly it’s a little disgusting how often he pats Tony’s hand but the billionaire appreciates the sentiment. This guy is thankful he can offer his students more than a state-funded school usually can and that’s something he can get behind. He puts a mental reminder on his growing to-do list to donate to schools more often.

They say their goodbyes and Tony’s watching May converse easily with parents and teachers alike, projecting a calm and nonchalant attitude that Tony can tell is a farce. A farce she manages to obtain for almost twenty minutes before she drags him through the hallway and out of the building only to hug him fiercely.

“Thank you,” he hears her say over and over again and his hands find their way to her waist to pull her away gently. He’s about to response when a bright flash startles him and suddenly they’re surrounded by reporters with microphones and cameras.

He can only about get the gist of what they’re all shouting at them and he’s more annoyed at himself of not thinking about this. The media has been going nuts about Peter and him ever since finding out about the teenager and his role in Tony’s life and of course they would figure out that today is the parent teacher conference.

With a growl he pulls May behind him to hide her from the lights that burn in their eyes and the questioning stares she is already getting.

“Does Miss Potts know you’re cheating on her with your son’s mother?”

And –

What?

Tony almost cracks up right on the spot because the guy who’s shoving a microphone into his face looks scared shitless as he repeats back what the person on his inner ear headphone must’ve told him to say.

“Miss who?” he asks innocently and keeps a straight face despite the painful jab in the ribs he’s getting from behind.

The reporter’s eyes widen and there’s a mutter going through the masses but no one steps forward to save the man who can’t be older than twenty five and who is probably praying for the ground to eat him up right then. He soldiers on, though, and that takes a lot of courage so Tony doesn’t interrupt him.

“M-Miss Potts, sir?”

Sir. This guy was a child.

“Ah,” he nods with a big, shit eating grin, “My lovely fiancée. No, I don’t think she knows I’m cheating on her with my son’s mother but if you don’t mind, I’m begging you to publish that nice little candid you took and tell her all about it.”

God, he loves messing with the vultures. He loves how they have no clue.

He turns to all of them with his arms wide open and a little bow, “Please feel free to publish any and all of these pictures. I would love to see the article and even more I’m going to enjoy watching while my beautiful fiancée destroys all of you before she’s done with breakfast.”

May is still hiding behind him but she’s holding on to his jacket, as if she expected him to assault one of the guys, and he can practically feel her shaking with laughter. It makes his grin grow even wider even though it earns him another light punch in the back.

“You think there’ll be any articles about this tomorrow?” she asks when they’re finally alone again and strolling casually to his car. She’s adjusting her back on her shoulder and biting her lip, obviously a little worried about the whole thing but he gives her a reassuring pat on the back.

“If they’re smart there won’t be. And even if there is, they didn’t get your face and we’ll make sure it stays that way. Peter has gotten enough public attention through our acquaintanceship as it is. I’m not letting them make this any harder.” It’s a hard promise to keep but one he means from the bottom of his heart.

She smiles, “I know. You’re a good man, Tony. I’m happy Peter has you.”

Tony doesn’t know what to say to that without his voice giving away just how much her words affect him and so he simply nods, puts the car in drive and brings her home so they can get the pizza they promised their kid.

There are no articles about Tony’s newest love affair whatsoever but Pepper somehow manages to get her fingers on the picture of May hugging Tony and frames it. It joins all the other pictures of his family in his lab.

  iv.

Peter’s already sitting on one of the bar stools, inhaling his third bowl of cereal when Tony comes trudging through the door. He only stops to ruffle the kid’s hair and let out something that he hopes sounds like a greeting before continuing his way to his literal life saver: the coffee maker that’s already brewing the very first steaming mug of his deliciously smelling elixir vitae.

He’s already dressed, of course, and he’s kept it a little more casual than his usual three piece suit. No, today he is wearing a navy dress jacket with red studs and a white dress shirt. He hasn’t forgone the tie, though. No, he’s sporting his favorite custom made tie – a red one with dark blue highlights and designed to look like the Spider-Man suit, the colors matching his jacket perfectly. Instead of his usual dress pants he’s in much more comfortable faded denim pants. All in all, he really does like his attire.

And the kid’s face when he notices even makes him crack the first smile of the morning.

“Close your mouth or you’ll spill the milk,” he grins over the rim of his cup as the teenager splutters and actually does spill some of the milk but from his bowl by putting down the spoon with too much force. Ah, he loves catching Peter off-guard. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to anymore.

“Where’d you even get that?” he asks once he’s gotten his mouth to form words and he points to the shirt as if Tony needs any hint on what he’s talking about. “Are you gonna wear that? Like, today to MIT?

The billionaire spares his outfit a fleeting glance and leisurely takes a sip from his drink. “I designed it and then ordered it. How do you get your clothes?” he asks, fondness coloring the ironic quip, “And what else would I be wearing? You have a tie with science puns you haven’t told me about?”

That actually snaps Peter out of his staring and he glares at his mentor. An attempt at looking intimidating that is completely cancelled out by his baby blue t-shirt on which sodium and neon are out joking each other. “Even if I had, I’d only share them with decent people.”

As if on cue Pepper walks in, hair in a messy bun and tucked into a soft dressing gown that only shows a peak of Peter’s favorite ion joke.  

“I give up,” the older man sighs in mock exasperation and downs the last bit of coffee, gratefully taking the next cup his fiancée is handing him. “Why do I even bother with this menace, Pep?”

She drops a kiss to the top of both his and Peter’s head before curling up on one of the chairs. She rests her chin on her knee and grins lazily up at him as she quips, “To atone for your sins?”

Peter cracks up at that and he’s suddenly laughing so hard that Tony is worried he’ll slip and tumble to the floor like the weird chaotic energy filled bouncing ball that he is. He’s already halfway out of his chair when the teenager composes himself and just sticks the tongue out at him cheekily.

Before Tony can reply, Pepper is reminding them that they should probably get going to collect everyone before they start worrying he forgot. Really, not everyone is as used to him being late to important meetings all the time. Although, this time it’s an actually important meeting.

So he shoos the kid to go brush his teeth and get whatever kids need to go on a field trip nowadays before turning to get ready himself. And, lo and behold, they actually make it on time (well, six minutes and thirty seven seconds late, but really Peter is just overreacting).

He’s at the front of the class with the teacher when they give the excited horde of kids the rundown and it feels weird, if he’s being honest. He has spent enough time with Peter to have a feeling for how to handle teenage kids but standing there and having them look up at him with their big eyes, wanting to learn more?

It’s amazing but scary. Is this what teachers feel like all the time? To know they have the power to educate and thus shape the next generation, the future?

Tony finds himself pondering about the what-ifs and could’ve-been’s and would-I-even-be-any-good’s but eventually his gaze always lands back on Peter who is listening to what his teacher is saying with such an earnest expression and when their eyes meet, he beams at him. And he feels that, maybe, he is doing an alright job in shaping the future.

The trip ends up going a lot more smoothly than he has ever hoped it would. The kids love the private airplane and the games Tony has stocked it with just for this occasion. Most of them haven’t flown before and it’s actually endearing to watch Peter fawn over how pretty the sky is looking with all his nerdy friends.

It seems that campus life is one of the few things that still intimidates teenagers and during their tour no one so much as steps out of line. They’re all too distracted by how big the campus is, by how old and honorable the buildings seem with all their fancy names and Tony simply enjoys watching his kid geek out over the labs they’re being shown even though he’s got his very own work station in Tony’s personal lab but that’s just how Peter is.

He’s excited about all of it. He’s writing every little thing the tour guide and Tony are saying down and takes everything in.

Tony’s heart is hurting with the thought of how close college suddenly seems. Not even a year and Peter will be going someplace else to grow and get even smarter and eventually change the world. He’ll jump out of the nest and spread his wings and actually fly. And while he’s so proud of everything the kid is going to achieve, he has to swallow past a lump in his throat when he beams up at him.

They only get a moment to themselves on the flight back.

Most of the kids are passed out in their seats and it’s quiet enough for Peter to lean into his side almost as if they are alone.

“Thank you so much for this,” he whispers as he stifles a yawn into his mentor’s shoulder. “And thank you for tagging along.”

He smiles, a wave of fondness crushing over all the little things that might have annoyed him that day until all he feels is the familiar feeling of Peter’s soft curls tickling his neck. “Anything for you,” he replies with a smile and brushes a bang from his forehead.

The boy snuggles a bit closer and they enjoy the peace and quiet until they hear some other kids talking in the seats behind them.

“Do you think Peter can get Mister Stark to give us a tour through Stark Industries, too?” A girl wonders. To which some guy replies in a hurried whisper, “Stark Industries? I hope he takes us to the Avenger’s Compound! Can you imagine –“

Tony laughs quietly to himself but Peter is adamantly shaking his head, never lifting it from the warm shoulder. “Over my dead body,” he mumbles, tapping Tony’s wrist for good measure, “We’re not making a field trip there.”

“Oh, really? Don’t you mean over my dead body?” he quips, pulling the kid closer, “Who says I want some gangly teenagers roaming about my company?”

He knows, should Peter ask, he would give his class the world’s best tour through the company anyone has ever seen. He knows there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for this kid.

 v.

The first time Tony set foot in Midtown School of Science and Technology he noticed the nauseating smell. He dimly remembers having been nervous and excited at the same time. Proud. Over-whelmed. He remembers feeling good.

When he enters the school now, he doesn’t feel much of anything.

There’s guilt lurking at the door and the grief that has become a part of him, sure. But then, they’re not really there at all. The pain that has been with him with every heartbeat, every breath since – The pain’s not there, either.

There’s nothing.

He is nothing. Merely a shell of what used to be a person. His body is there but not much else. Not his mind, not his gut instinct and definitely not his heart. No, he left all of it on –

“Mister Stark.”

Right. He’s not alone.

The ki – No. Not the kid. Ned.

Ned is the one who tugs at his sleeve clumsily after not having gotten a reply. It’s Ned who leads his body down the never-ending hallways that taunt him with the empty echo of their lone footsteps. It’s Ned who goes to work on the lock, removing the shackle from the solid brass body with practiced ease while Tony watches on dumbly.

The padlock’s clicking sounds dull, Ned’s voice is drowned out once more by the blood rushing in his ears and he can’t breathe because his lungs won’t pull the air in. It’s so familiar he doesn’t feel the pain that shoots through his body when his heart clenches at not getting enough oxygen.

“-eter needs you to breathe. You have to breathe, Mister Stark.”

He’s not breathing?

Tony exhales tentatively. Oh. He wasn’t breathing. Now he is. That’s nice. His heart unclenches and his mind starts picking up on his surroundings again.

They’re in a school. Dirty hallways, dented lockers, dust everywhere. It’s eerily quiet. No school should ever be this quiet, not even in the middle of the night.

It’s not the middle of the night. It’s noon.

Noon? Why are they in a school at noon? Why isn’t he working? Where’s Pet – Oh.

He blinks when the world starts turning, to focus on the open locker and the k – teenager in front of it. There are text books, carelessly thrown in after a long day of school because why bother arranging the books when you would use them again the next day? Advanced trig is standing dangerously close to the edge and only the weight of some tome that looks to be English literature is keeping it from falling.

Funny. Tony can relate. Though, he’s already falling – has been for weeks – and nothing is holding him back. He’s waiting for the moment he finally hits the ground and breaks apart. That would be easier. He can fix himself back up, he’s done it before. And even if he fails, at least it’ll stop the suffering.

Ned looks back to the locker when Tony doesn’t move with a sad sigh. Tony thinks he has been talking all along but he just can’t be sure. He’s zapping in and out. On and off. Alive and de –

“-lways working on the new formulas in chemistry so they should be,” he rummages through the depths of the locker, somehow keeping advanced trig from falling until he stops on a notebook that has seen better days. The sides are full of spilled ink and dog ears. But he doesn’t see that.

His eyes have stopped on the familiar writing – a familiar name – on the upper left corner of the cover. P –

Tony clears his throat, hand shaking as he reaches out to take the pad and it gets worse when he starts flipping through the pages. It’s too much of him in these pages – little doodles and structural formulas and quickly scribbled equations that are too advanced for any high schooler.

Not this one.

He stops when he’s found what he’s come here for, ignoring the way his fingers are gripping the page so tightly he might tear it off. But there, in neat handwriting is the newest recipe for synthetic spider webs. Unprecedented, never tested, never even left the ground of the school they’re standing in.

“That’s it,” he says and his voice feels like it hasn’t been used in months when it’s only been days. Same difference, he supposes, considering that time’s not real anymore. Nothing is.

His eyes are still roaming the page and he lets himself get lost in the science of it. Science is something he can grasp. This is something he can make. This is something that won’t turn to ash in his arms and leave him reeling and fighting for air on an alien planet –

“I- I can make this,” he presses on, desperate to keep himself inside the science and away from the nightmare that is everywhere his k – he isn’t. “I’ll make it for him. He’ll have it the second he’s back.”

Because that is the plan.

It still surprises him that there even is a plan but they’ve gotten back up and that back up is a woman. Figures that she would be able to think of something. He has always known that women are stronger in every way that counts. He’s glad he can let her carry the weight of the universe for now because he can’t even lift the weight of his own guilt.

Everything is set in motion and right now all they can do is wait.

Tony has never been known for his patience. That’s why he’s here – to have something to do, to grasp at something meaningful and important that can keep P – him safe when he’s back.

“He’ll be so happy to have his webs back,” Ned rambles, “Maybe a little mad because we went through his stuff but mostly happy I think. God, I can’t wait to have him back.”

“You will get him back,” Tony replies, closing the notebook and turning on his heel. He has to get out of here. “Just a few more days and you’ll have him back.”

He can hear the frown in Ned’s voice when he follows him, “We both will have him back, Mister Stark.”

Tony’s face smiles. He feels nothing.

vi.

“Your permission slip, Mister Parker?”

He blinks dumbly at his teacher who’s towering above him with an outstretched hand, waiting for the paper that has been burning a hole into the back pocket of his jeans for the past couple of hours. It should be a relief to finally get rid of the thing that has been haunting him for weeks and he can’t wait to never see the damn thing ever again. But – handing it over to his teacher means signing what he’s sure is going to be his death warrant.

For a second he entertains the thought of getting up and walking out of class without a backward glance but even as his gaze settles on the door, his only way out, he knows he doesn’t have the energy to do any of that. Hell, he barely has the energy to get out of the bed in the morning. Most days May literally drags him out by his arms and manhandles him into clothes and force feeds him.

Peter drops his head and reaches into his pocket. The second his hands touch the offending piece of paper the world starts spinning and he almost recoils but doesn’t. He doesn’t do a lot of things he wants lately. He grabs the crumpled-up slip and hands it to his teacher without looking up. He’s hoping if he can’t see the big fat name on the thing, it won’t hurt as much.

Which is ridiculous. How could there possibly be a pain worse than this? (Anymore and it might actually kill him.)

The second his teacher has his slip, he marches back to the front of the class and starts talking about their field trip. And if Peter thought he was feeling like dying before? Well, it only gets worse from here.

He tries to focus on the bright green emergency exit sign above the door instead of on the words that travel through the air and hit him with a force that knocks the air out of his lungs. Every word is like a gunshot wound, like someone putting holes in his body over and over and over again.

Exit.

He has to get out. The little white stick man is waiting for him to follow after him. Where? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care.

He wonders what it would be like to get lost in a white square. To have light surround him instead of the darkness that has been clinging to him for months. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get that feeling again.

Which doesn’t mean there’s no light in his life, no. There’s May and Ned and even MJ who has stepped up as someone akin to a friend. There’s Mr. Delmar and his sandwiches and there’s his cat. There’s the people he’s saving every day. But there’s no –

“-loyees of Stark Industries have suffered enough and I trust you all to be –“

Emergency exit only.

What constitutes as an emergency, he ponders. Is it an emergency when his lungs feel like collapsing and his entire body feels like it’s disintegrating again? Is it an emergency when he feels like dying but knows he isn’t? Is this constant state of loss and sadness he’s carrying an emergency?

Emergencies are sudden, unexpected. His grief is six months in the making. At this point, it’s neither.

Even though he feels like dying, he knows it’s not an emergency because this has become his new normal. And he has long since realized that there is no immediate action to be taken against this. There’s nothing. Just him and his pain.

He doesn’t know, can’t understand, why May thought this would be a good idea.

Pepper, Rhodey and Happy have all tried to reach out to him. Hell, half of the Avengers have tried and failed to get him to even look at them because when he sees them, he thinks of him and he’s not strong enough to go there. He’s not strong enough to see his name, his genius, his legacy plastered everywhere.

There shouldn’t be a legacy. Peter shouldn’t have had to sign his name on a dotted line making him the heir once he is of age. There shouldn’t be a heritage because he shouldn’t be fucking dead.

He breathes out very deliberately and tries to ignore the worried glances Ned is throwing him. His best friend thinks he’s being subtle but he really is about as subtle as – What’s not subtle?

The only thing he can think of his how he was sitting in front of the TV in 2008 with his uncle and his aunt and they were watching the news and he was hoping to get another glimpse at the newest superhero. He remembers some press conference that he didn’t understand. He remembers what came after, remembers how it changed his life forever.

Well, that’s not subtle at all.

His uncle’s voice is in his head and then another one joins it, overlapping with it until their words are the only thing he hears. Together they make up a tragic melody of loss.

You can’t change the world with subtle. You have to be bold, Pete.

“Hey Parker, think you can get us into the forbidden areas with your intern status? Think that’ll still mean something now that –“

His nails cut into the heel of his hand. He hears his skin tearing and he smells the few droplets of blood that spill. He concentrates on it and clenches his teeth to keep from screaming.

“Don’t know,” he spits out, chest heaving heavily with how fast his heart is beating and he can barely contain the hot rage that is pooling in his stomach. “Haven’t been there in months.”

Six months seventeen days and about twelve hours. Ever since he met Helen Cho’s eyes that only held an apology and he bolted out of the med bay.

Thankfully Flash doesn’t pry further. Even he seems to realize that Peter is close to losing it with how pale he’s looking and how he hasn’t moved a muscle more than he absolutely had to ever since they boarded the bus. He hears them talking about it anyway.

They’re speculating about just what went down, what sacrifices had to be made to save the world this time.

It’s not just the world. And the sacrifice was too high.

You’re alright.

He isn’t. He’s dying and no one realizes because he’s walking, talking and breathing.

“We’re here, Peter,” his best friend tells him and Peter is glad that he’s gripping his shoulder as tightly as he is. He’s singlehandedly pulling him back from the abyss that is his mind and into the next hell which is his reality. He doesn’t know which one is worse.

They make it through the front doors without an incident and up until the front desk, Peter manages to avoid looking at the trademark logo but there’s one hanging right above the area and once his eyes have found it, he can’t bring himself to look away. Even when his vision his becoming blurry, he just keeps staring.

Are you trying to catch flies? It’s just a sign, kid. Through here, that’s where the magic happens.

“Looks like I’m missing one visitor pass,” the cheerful lady that seems to be their guide today notes and is about to turn to the woman at the registration desk when his teacher intersects.

“I was told that Mister Parker won’t need a badge when I called ahead,” he tells them and Peter wishes he would’ve just stayed in his own headspace. He really doesn’t feel like explaining that he hasn’t touched his badge in almost a year because he never actually needed it around here. He just –

“Ah, Mister Parker.”

Knowing eyes find his and the rage in his stomach is rearing its head even as he forces something that he hopes resembles a friendly smile on his lips. He blinks and the red anger settles with his next exhale.

“Do you have your badge with you?”

Don’t be a spoilsport, Happy. The kid doesn’t need to wear a badge.

He shakes his head because his throat is suddenly too dry to get any words out and he fears that even if he did, they would only cause more pain.

Another voice sounds them suddenly. “Mister Parker has full access to all Stark Industry buildings. Welcome back, Peter.”

Peter is on fire. His skin his burning, his insides are consumed by the hot flame that is the rage he can barely control.

It is nice to finally make your acquaintance, Mister Parker. Boss has talked very highly of you. I’m F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’m in charge of the tower.

He can hear his classmates talking over each other and even his teacher seems surprised but doesn’t delve further into why a lanky high schooler would need access to all company buildings. Ned shushes them and Peter can go back to concentrating on his breathing.

I’m not letting you sit this one out, Peter. You can’t run from this forever and if it takes a stupid field trip with your class to face your demons? Then so be it. You need to keep living, baby. I miss you.

He misses himself, too.

He misses how he used to laugh too loud and talk too much and how his mind was always moving too fast. He misses how he used to feel so many emotions, how he had the full kaleidoscope of colors when all he sees nowadays is red and black. Red is his anger, black the grief.

 Objectively, the tour is nice.

Their guide is going out of her way to make this an interesting experience and she shows them a lot more than visitors are usually shown. Sometimes she stumbles on a more science-related question but before Peter feels the need to jump in, the helpful AI answers from the ceiling, earning surprised gasps and delighted chuckles whenever she chimes in.

Peter is proud how he stays upright the whole time and doesn’t let his anger get the better of him once. He’s in a peaceful state of oblivion. Floating somewhere between the things he’s seeing, hearing and feeling, and something else, something easier to handle. There are no strong emotions in this world, just a deep blue sea with occasional ripples. If he’s not careful he might drown. Maybe he’ll stop being careful for just one –

He’s snapped back into the reality, where the air in his lungs is acid and tries to kill him with every breath he takes, by his phone and a text message he chooses to ignore.

If he keeps ignoring everything about this, maybe he’ll survive the day. If he just stays in that other world, where he might drown in the sea, maybe he won’t die in this world. Because he doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to leave his aunt and Ned. He just doesn’t know how to not die anymore.

“If you don’t have any more questions regarding the labs, I will take you to the heart of any tour through our building – an exhibition about the history of Stark Industries,” the cheerful lady is leading them down the staircase again and into a wing of the building Peter has never been to before. His body follows the group mechanically.

“As you all probably know, Stark Industries was founded by Howard Stark in the early twentieth century as a –“

Flying cars, super soldiers and better weapons. That’s all my old man ever talked about.

“-age of twenty one, he assumed the role of CEO and the company flourished for almost two decades –“

Your moral compass has already surpassed mine by – I don’t know, F.R.I.D.A.Y., what’s a good comparison?

“-wanted a whole wing about Miss Virginia Potts and her accomplishments since taking over as CEO. Soon after, Stark Industry started investing more into renewable energies and, with Stark Tower, managed to –“

His phone buzzes again but he quickly presses decline and pushes it back into his backpack. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why do they have to make it worse?

Peter has almost made it back into the peaceful space of his mind when two things happen at once.

“- the late Tony Stark –“

“Peter!”

The cheerful ladies voice clashes with Pepper’s concerned one and suddenly the CEO and late Tony Stark’s fiancée is standing in front of them, searching the group until her eyes fall on Peter.

For a moment everything is dulled and then the sounds come back. They’re too much. Too loud, too bright, too full, too much.

He searches frantically for something to cling to and all he finds is a picture of his mentor. His late mentor.

I’m never late. Everyone else is simply early.

Something in him breaks when he sees the brown eyes that are guarded on the photograph. The smile is fake but it radiates exactly what he wants. He’s always been good at getting people to see what he wants them to see. He’s always been good at getting what he wants.

Wanted.

Late Tony Stark.

Suddenly the anger is back and he can do nothing but let it consume him. Every last pore is filled with hot blinding rage and he snaps when a hand is on his shoulder and someone is trying to calm him down.

He hasn’t realized he’s been screaming.

“You’re alright, Peter. It’s okay.”

“It’s fucking not!” he bursts out then. Everyone keeps telling him that it’s okay and that he’s alright but it isn’t and he isn’t. He’s lost and broken and he doesn’t know how to tell them that he can’t possibly move on from this.

“He’s fucking gone. He’s gone he’s –“

“He saved the world.” – “He’s a hero.” – “He’s –“

Peter doesn’t care because he might be a hero but he was also his mentor and his father figure and he’s gone. He’s vanished from his life as if he has never been there only then it wouldn’t hurt so fucking much.

Pepper meets his eyes and he’s not sure how she does it because he swears his eyes are shooting flames but Pepper has always been able to handle fire.

“You know why he had to do it.”

Listen, Pete. You’re probably going to hate me when you see this but this was the only way to get you back. I can’t – I can’t keep living like this. I have to get everyone back. I have to get you back.

“I never asked him to,” he screams, “I never would’ve agreed. How could you let him do this? Why didn’t you stop him? I – I thought you loved him, too. I thought –“

He breaks off when a sob forces its way past his dry lips and when he blinks the tears start running down his cheek and they’re doing nothing in cooling his anger and they’re doing nothing in curing his pain.

“I love him.” Pepper’s voice is calm, not accusatory. “Nothing I could’ve said would’ve stopped him.” She’s not taking the bait, she’s not fighting back. He hates it.

“I hate him,” he whispers and in that moment he means it. “If he had cared at all – if he had loved me at all he wouldn’t –“

I love you, Peter. I love you so much it kills me to be without you even one second longer. If you take one thing from this stupid video message, please let it be this. I love you and I will always love you. No matter what.

He’s breaking down.

His nose is running, the tears are flowing freely and he can’t control his body anymore. His hands are shaking and his knees scrape over the ground when he falls over but before his face hits the floor, someone catches him. Pepper is warm and soft and familiar and he buries his head in her neck and lets go of the anger for the first time in months.

It has become an integral part of him and now that it’s slowly seeping out of his pores, all that’s left is the overwhelming pain of losing the third father figure in his life and the feeling that he’s alone again.

Why does he keep losing people? Why did it have to be him for the rest of the universe? Why couldn’t someone else do the sacrifice? Why – Why does Peter have to suffer? Why does he always have to suffer?

It’s selfish but sometimes he wishes he would’ve stayed dead. He’s not strong enough to go through this again, not now that he’s back in the real world and he feels the pain again. He can’t.

You’re the strongest person I know, Peter. Between you and Pepper, there’s no one stronger.

I’m sorry it has to be you. I’m sorry.

Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry –

He must have lost consciousness at some point because when he wakes up, May is carding her fingers through his sweaty hair and he’s tucked into the softest blanket he’s ever felt. He surrounded by a feeling of home. He freezes when he realizes why.

The blanket, the scent and the calming sound of rain hitting the window at a volume he can enjoy. He is home. Sort of.

“Hey sweetie,” his aunt whispers, “Pepper called me. We’re staying over tonight, is that okay?”

Instead of answering he turns his face into the pillow more fully and inhales the scent that is so uniquely Tony. Now that he has it, he doesn’t know how he has made it six months without it. Here, in his bedroom, it’s like he’s just been here. As if he’s just stepped out to get a glass of water.

Tony is still alive in here.

He has tried so hard to bury every memory of the man and it has killed him. But now? Now he remembers.

He remembers how he made him breakfast in bed and helped him with his homework late one night. He remembers how Tony’s snoring woke him after they both fell asleep watching a movie. He remembers the small smiles and hair ruffles.

He remembers the I love you’s. The ones not on some video message but stored away safely in his heart.

Before he knows it, he’s crying again and his aunt pulls him closer and then Pepper is there, too. And he feels like Tony is there, too, as long as he remembers.

fic by @josywbu

art by @lieselfh

[dccmdays]

⌜   CIS FEMALE, SHE / HER   |   drew barrymore by bryce vine , slytherin, estj   ⌟    ⏤   meet BLAIR SKELLINGTON ; a TWENTY-ONE year old who kind of resembles NATASHA LIU BORDIZZO, don’t you think? she originally hailed from HALLOWEENTOWN (   VALENTINE’S LAND   ) where she lived with her adoptive parents, JACQUELINE & PANDORA SKELLINGTON (   NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS   ), but word is that she’s been wrapping up her time at wdu while juggling bartending and an internship. she’s always been pretty SELF-RELIANT & VIBRANT, but has gotten way more IMPULSIVE & EVASIVE since she woke up. maybe her powers of PHEROMONE MANIPULATION can help in taking down the dome.

blair originally hailed from valentines town. she didn’t have a good life there, but didn’t have a bad one, either. her parents, much like the rest of the town, were madly in love. they were very wrapped up in each other, and a child wasn’t initially in the equation. blair, essentially, was an interruption to their honeymoon phase. they didn’t want her, but didn’t want to be the parents that gave up their kid when they weren’t necessarily. . . unfit, either. 

that being said, blair was raised on lack luster nannies and didn’t really have a relationship with either of her parents. they did their own thing, and she did her own. this sort of led to blair not really respecting authority, as no one was around to actually, well, be the boss. it led to her being a nuisance in p much every setting. disruptive. easily bored. 

what made up for that, though, was that she is incredibly smart. it wasn’t uncommon growing up for her teachers to report back that she was intelligent enough to skip a grade, to start taking more advanced classes. that seemed like a lot to her parents, so no matter how much her teachers pushed for blair to be bumped up, she remained, being completely unchallenged by her classes. 

when she was twelve, she stumbled upon flyers for ‘high school prep’ summer programs at wda. it was a perfect. no kid for her parents to look after for the whole summer. they spent the entirety of it vacationing. blair was away from that ‘nothing’ town, as she called it. her favorite course for the summer? jacqueline skellingtons. as someone that was easily bored, she was never bored in her class. maybe it was because she liked the subject. maybe it was because jacqueline was so intelligent. she cared deeply about her teachings. the challenged blair to be a better student. 

she was a teachers pet, sort of, but not in an annoying way. bit by bit, blair revealed little bits about her home. how her parents didn’t want her there. how she didn’t even really know her parents. how she could never return at the end of the summer, and her parents would be ecstatic. all comments that would be concerning for any educator. especially so for jacqueline, that took a major liking to blair. so much so that she felt the need to offer up an alternative, one that majorly breaks the traditional teacher-student expectation. ‘adoption’. 

emotions are weird for blair. she remembers being confused at such a prospect, her mind naturally going to, well, babies being adopted. not a twelve year old going on thirteen. the more she thought about it, though, the more it grew on her. someone wanted to look after her. to care for her. at the very least, she’d never be bored-- her new family would be a motley crew of individuals. 

admittedly, her parents had to be talked into the prospect. they were concerned, not moreso for their child, but how people would see the situation. but then it hit them-- a child was never in their equation. a child didn’t have to be. 

it took a while for blair to truly take to the skellingtons. from having complete strangers now be her siblings. from having two of the school faculty now be her moms. it took three years for her to actually call her family exactly that-- her family. 

there are certain things she never really let go of, even with having a new family. for the most part, she still doesn’t see many people as people of authority (her moms being the exception). she is still easily bored. due to her lack of a family in her younger years, blair for the most part doesn’t have a lot of empathy. despite that, she is really, really good with people. she knows what to say to get what she wants. she knows how to push buttons. to an extent, she’s a bit manipulative in that aspect. she’s not the worst person you’ve ever met, but she’s certainly not the best. 

her power is pheromone manipulation, and has full control over it. she only really uses that to her own advantage-- she can make herself seem even more alluring, which helps at her job. she serves at the local bar & grille, and can really reel in some hefty tips from idiotic men by simply amping up this power, and even moreso if she were to just lightly touch their hand while handing them their beer. 

TLDR; 

blair is very loosely based off matilda. that makes jacqueline miss honey. 

as she has grown emotionally, she has a lot of undealt with feelings about being unwanted by her biological parents. 

she doesn’t think she’s entitled to feel shitty about her past because her upbringing wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t good. 

that being said, yes she’s grown emotionally but i wouldn’t say she’s really emotional. she isn’t easily wavered by misfortune. not easily scared, nor upset. i wouldn’t say she’s ever really ecstatic, either. 

she’s not very empathetic with anyone outside of her family, and even with them it’s not overwhelmingly so. someone te ac h her

she’s really. reaLLY sarcastic. 

bored easily ! 

she is also really good with people. not in a friendly kind of way. but a she knows what to say to get what she wants, or doesn’t want, kind of way. 

big ‘fuck authority’ kinda gal. unless ur one of her moms. 

she has pheromone manipulation. 

i can see this also leading to her being that friend ur boyfriend or girlfriend tells u that u don’t have to worry about. insert smiling devil emoji. 

i’ll add more later 

[yxsanos-blog]

i’m izzie hailing from pst and this here is my messy artist babe eri!! you can find her bio here and more under the cut. like this if u wanna plot and i’ll come to u!! or hmu on discord ( less whine more wine#7813 )

eri was born in honolulu, hi to a pair of high school sweethearts with already one daughter, who’s four years older than eri. she grew up being taken care of by her grandparents when her parents were working and with a lot of cousins and it was just a nice, loving environment all around. her parents were also pretty great when she was a kid even though they weren’t around as much as they liked---they took eri and her sister to the beach, on drives, to get ice cream, etc. 

eri was always a really active, loud child who got into her fair share of trouble. kind of the ringleader in her cousins her age. lots of fun. didn’t like school. found it boring.

been drawing ever since she could hold a pencil. mom was also an artist but gave it up for her kids. always kinda bitter about it. this is important later. but anyway, her mom was always really encouraging when it came to eri’s drawings and put her in art lessons and stuff. so yeah, her childhood and preteen years weren’t that bad.

when she was fourteen, her parents got a divorce. she didn’t see it coming, but she’ll look back on the months and years leading up to it and she’ll realize she missed all the signs---more arguments, her mom not coming home for longer than usual, tension, etc. still a little 

bit resentful of her mom for leaving them, but they were working on repairing their relationship when she moved to l.a. for college bc her mom had moved to california after the divorce. 

in high school, she pretty much avoided her apartment. went on a lot of hikes, drives, spending time at friends’, etc. lots to do in hawaii with everything around her! was rly never bored

went to otis college for art and design in l.a. new city, new friends, parties, all that fun stuff. wasn’t hard for her to make friends since she’s always been outgoing and spunky. got her second boyfriend her sophomore year, and he made her super happy and feel loved, but that all went to shit when she caught him cheating on her. she was already struggling with self-esteem and validation issues, so that didn’t help at all. kept to hook-ups and flings after that.

friends and sister helped her get back up. went to japan on a spring program. did a pixar summer internship. graduated with a degree and a job offer. so life’s not bad anymore.

ended up in boot hill bc of a post-christmas road trip gone wrong. thought she was only gonna stay like, a weekend. has been here a month. fucking hates it. spends her time getting drunk, spray-painting abandoned buildings, making friends ( hopefully? ), making lots and lots of art, and trying to figure out how to leave. probably has a comic about southbound in the works.

has been living in the motel for the past month since she thinks if she gets a place somewhere else, it’ll be more permanent and she can’t have that. got a hot plate off amazon bc eating out all the time is expensive. holding onto the hope she’ll get out. who knows how long that’ll last??

notes

makes extra money by selling artwork. for example, a local who’s never been out of a boot hill but wants a nice piece of a snowy mountain or an autumnal forest? eri’s got you covered. does custom calendars, flyers, lettering, etc, like for events and whatever. 

fun & flirty

here for a good time not a long time

vivacious, plucky, creative, bold, impulsive, headstrong, defiant, capricious, independent. if she likes you when she first meets you, she’ll treat you like she’s known you for years instead of hours. can be fickle. it doesn’t take a lot to get her attention, but it doesn’t take much to lose it, either.

spontaneous. down for pretty much anything?? doesn’t give a fuck

restless. tired of this shit. might just take her chances with the coyotes

wanted connections

friends ( a loose term, probably )

the group she came on a road trip with ( gonna.. fill a wc for that. probably. )

drinking buddies

fellow newcomers - whether they’re trying to figure out everything they can about this creepy-ass town, swapping conspiracy theories, venting about how they’re stuck, or trying to make the best of it, bring me it all!

eri’s friendly, to be sure, but she can also be a lot, especially for some locals who might not take so kindly to someone who’s so against boot hill. give me clashes between her and locals who find her too outspoken or a nuisance.

conversely, locals who helped show her around, offered some of that good ol small town hospitality. or locals that she just hit it off with ( ones her age maybe, etc ) and now she’s friends with them. like, yeah, this town sucks, but it’s still better when you have people to talk to, and she’s definitely not going out of her way to antagonize people who have been here longer than her.

flings, fwbs, etc. she’s only been here for a month, but there’s not much to do and boredom’s a killer.

people who buy her art

[hahanoiwont]

superhero au!

Superhero au.

Virgil is a supervillain a la that post about grad school villains. He started out doing it for extra credit but he also needed the cash for student loans...that shit aint cheap yo

so he’s a small-scale “”””supervillain””” mostly making a nuisance of himself by stopping traffic, doing minor vandalism in costume, and sometimes kidnapping notables for like an hour before realizing he can’t keep a plant alive and should not be in charge of a person (’you’ve captured me!! what are you going to do???’ ‘eh i mean you’ll probably get rescued soon, my powers aren’t really meant for long-term kidnapping and I don’t wanna have to take care of you. you think i want another mouth to feed? nah. hey wanna see a meme?’).

(if Sleep exists in this au he’s a common kidnapping victim. son of the mayor or smth. Virgil has learned to hold up a starbucks before kidnapping him tho. not worth it if he can’t bribe him with sweet sweet caffeine. they p much chill for a couple hours until the hostage negotiators come)

basically, Virgil’s not a big enough deal to get shut down permanently. regular cops usually take care of him well enough without superhero involvement. he gets his extra credit for villainry and sometimes some cash from a shadowy organization via crow or some shit. he’s not sure how they know where he lives or what exactly they’re paying him for but hey, more ramen money. whatever gets food on the table.

On the other hand, Patton is a hard-working police officer who really should be in any other job. He’s just too nice for it. But he gets a lot of the suicide calls or emotional trauma stuff because he’s just so damn good at making people feel safe, and no one else wants to do those calls, so he stays on the force. He used to be an EMT, too, which is really helpful. He rooms with Virgil and Logan and Virgil’s weird cousin.

He pretends to be unaware of Virgil’s extracurriculars because he can see that Virgil needs the money and is too proud to ask for help. He does help him patch himself up when necessary and sometimes thinks about going back to his own ‘night job.’

(he used to be a superhero but quit that and EMTing after he realized how much it was draining him physically and emotionally and how deeply unhealthy the whole thing was. credit to Logan for that) He thinks he’d feel better knowing Virgil’s already spoken for as an archnemesis by a hero who won’t seriously try to hurt him. He seriously worries that Virgil will catch the attention of an edgy ‘shoot first and angst about it but make no attempts to fix the mess you’ve made later’ heroes, and he’ll end up in the hospital or worse.

but also, Patton needs that work/life balance and he just can’t maintain it while hero-ing. and Virgil knows what he’s doing, right? he’s a cautious guy. So Patton just tries to be on call when he notices Virgil’s got the first aid kit out or when he talks about ‘evening plans’ (fuck’s sake dude we all know you don’t go out for fun).

For his part, Logan wanted to be a biochemical engineer, but right now he’s taking some time off school. His powers are probably some sort of sensory (?) and he doesn’t fully understand them himself, mostly bc he likes to pretend they don’t exist. but he was getting splitting headaches at school and he just couldn’t go on. He does online courses when he can but he feels really ashamed that he couldn’t do grad school/college, which he was supposed to be good at. He was planning on staying with Patton and Virgil until the end of the lease and he doesn’t know what he’ll do after that.

But then one day Virgil came home freaking the fuck out about something and asked to talk to him, and guess what, he’s got this crazy ‘supervillain for extra credit’ idea. Someone’s got to make sure this fool doesn’t get himself killed. And Patton’s got into police work, and Logan doesn’t want him to go through compassion exhaustion again, and really none of his dumb housemates can take care of themselves (he loves them tho). So he does mad science in the broom closet to try to give Virgil something of an edge over any hero whose attention he might catch and helps him hide his villain-ing from Patton and tries to figure out what he’s gonna do with his life on the side.

He comes up with this crazy graph that shows the optimal balance of super heroes to villains in a healthy society (not enough villains=not enough active heroes when something really bad goes down, as it does every few years, somehow; not enough heroes=obviously bad). He keeps an eye on superpowered activity in the city.

Sometimes he thinks about getting active himself, both to preserve order and balance (if you’re the villain [ie Virgil] you can control the collateral damage to your plots, but if you’re the hero and your roommate is the villain you can both work together to provide for both of your needs [extra credit, enough good hero/villain balance, and safety of roommate] without actually harming anyone...but for either he would need to be able to use his powers effectively and he’s still kind of in denial), and to keep Virgil from getting his fool ass killed, and to keep an eye on Patton while Patton insists on running right into every single superpowered crime scene. In the meantime, he frets over numbers and helps Virgil write coded emails to his grad board about his ‘’’extensive’’’ villainry.

It’s basically like a resume except you have to convince the people involved that you’re super evil.

Logan is good at resumes.

All three of them are plugging right along and Virgil’s actually getting his student loans paid on time with enough money for food and rent besides (one day he even takes them out to eat and they Do Not Talk about how he got the money to do that), and they all think maybe he can do the villain thing for a few more years and then get out of the game forever, when Virgil’s weird cousin gets caught doing some shady-ass stuff.

Turns out he’s in way over his head with some sketchy folks, owes a lot of people money, and used Virgil’s name for half of it. Virgil is in sudden desperate need of more money than he can get through legal means and, of course, Refuses to tell anyone about/ask for help with his predicament. It is strongly recommended to him by his academic adviser that he step up his supervillain game or show up at the bottom of a river south of Manhattan.

Virgil freaks the fuck out and proceeds to dig himself into an even deeper hole, suddenly going for much larger schemes, robbing banks, being less obsessively careful about collateral damage with each plot because he just doesn’t have time to and he’s too desperate.

Cue Roman.

Roman was literally just going to the bank, innocent of all wrongdoing and Not Picking a Fight because he swears this new move is gonna work out, he’s not gonna get arrested to aggravated assault or unauthorized use of an unregistered superhuman ability (it was self-defense! and defense of others! he was rescuing people!).

He happens to be at the bank when Virgil is robbing it. And, well, Virgil isn’t gonna hurt anyone, but Roman doesn’t know that. He ties his shirt over his face to hide his identity and superheros it up, saves the day; Virgil runs away pretty significantly battered but not permanently injured or caught. And now there’s a new superhero in town and Virgil suddenly has an archnemesis. Just what he was avoiding. Great.

Meanwhile, Roman is shocked to learn that he’s being applauded for saving people for once (as opposed to like. arrested) and graciously accepts his new title. Hey, being a superhero could work! He said he was gonna try something new in this town and he will! He’s gonna save the day!

The two of them happily counter each other day after day: Virgil’s getting enough publicity as a villain that his grad board is happy even without him doing any genuine harm, he’s staying one step ahead of the shady figures that come looking for him by name, Patton has made contact once or twice with the new hero and used his office reputation to become Roman’s primary police contact, Logan thinks Virgil is bonkers for all the new levels of villainy he’s doing but he has to admit this is the most alive he’s ever seen him; Roman is enjoying the fame and adoration of being a hero and he’s been cast in a musical and life is looking up for everyone.

But Roman also works in a coffee shop to pay the bills (three jobs. so tired.) and there’s this stressed-looking student who keeps coming in with bruises and sprains and one time he broke his arm in what Roman is absolutely certain wasn’t an accident, and he talks on the phone with people sometimes that really seem to distress him, and he seems like a genuinely nice guy, right? A little guarded, sure, but he’s polite and he tips well and what kind of hero would Roman be if he didn’t at least try to make friends with this troubled but charming young man?

So Roman introduces himself to Virgil in their civilian identities and the two of them are friendly! free coffee here, book recommendation there, on slow days Roman will sit with Virgil and they’ll just chill for a while. Each of them quietly considers the other his friend, but Roman is Concerned about how Virgil is so fucking jumpy, keeps getting these calls that he claims are from his academic adviser but honestly what kind of adviser would be so terrible to talk to, he has all these bruises that show up continuously and his excuses are all plausible, realistic, and backed by evidence provided by Virgil himself, but something just doesn’t seem right.

So when Virgil mentions that his cousin suddenly moved out in the middle of the lease and he needs to find a new roommate and can he post a flyer in the coffee shop? Roman jumps at the opportunity. He’s been renting one room by the month in a shitty part of town and this is a hell of an upgrade, and also, maybe that nagging in the back of his head when Virgil shows up battered will go away. (maybe if he’s there no one will hurt Virgil. what monster would bring deliberate harm onto such a genuinely nice, snarky guy, wonders the superhero who brawls him on the regular)

He’ll have to keep his superhero-ing on the DL from his new roommates (though he’s thinking about telling Virgil, because Virgil seems like he can keep a secret and Roman really wants to have someone to talk to about this), but unlike Virgil, Roman knows how to use strategic stage makeup to hide bruises and minor imperfections. Also, his villain must be kind of weak, because he never seems to do too much damage? Sometimes Roman thinks he doesn’t really want to be a villain, he’s just kind of sad and lonely, like Megamind. Thoughts for another time.

So now, in one apartment, we have:

Patton, former EMT; former superhero of respectable fame; currently a cop assigned to Roman’s superhero persona and also any calls involving emotional competence; knows Virgil is a supervillain but pretends not to; responds immediately to all calls involving superpowers in case it’s his deeply misguided roommate and he needs help;

Logan, one accident away from becoming a super-something if only he could figure out what; provider of Virgil’s biochemical defenses for when superpowers alone are not enough; helping to cover both logistics and material needs for supervillainy (also created Virgil’s outfit because you can’t do crime in a hoodie you heathen, no one will take you seriously, Virgil had to talk him down from including a necktie); searching for his place in life; not entirely certain why Virgil is stepping up his illegal activities but not happy about it; currently househusband to all of his roommates;

Virgil, extremely stressed grad student; villain for fun and profit and mostly because he needs the money to not get murdered; a bit of an adrenaline junkie; really staring to get into this villain thing but he sometimes wishes he didn’t have to be the bad guy; definitely feeling hunted by shadowy entities and organizations and trying desperately not to bring anyone down with him;

and Roman, the hero. who is beginning to think he and his villain might have been friends, in another life.

It is both a sitcom and a shitshow of epic proportions while everyone tries to hide each other’s secrets without letting ppl know what they know, Roman comes clean to Virgil and Virgil freaks the fuck out about it, Patton frets about everyone and everything until he’s stressing himself sick, Logan makes chemical explosions in the broom closet and the whole block is evacuated every other Tuesday and they all have to pretend not to know about it, Roman wants to get a dog and also for Virgil to get out of whatever abusive relationship he’s Clearly In, Virgil wants a nap, Patton wants a nap, they all want a nap.

What I’m saying is: Superhero au.

@stella-scriptor another one for you, buddy