#i hope this new batch of cocaine sits well with you all

[prismatic-cannon]

12/24/20XX

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

One of His Little Toys

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: I wrote this for my @starkerfestivals prison au bingo square! I’m stoked for you guys to see it & hope you enjoy <3 Word Count: ~4.6k Warnings: drug use, physical violence, daddy!kink, general things that happen in prison

Growing up in the heart of Chicago, Peter didn’t have much a choice of what happened in his life. Sure, he was smart – but that wasn’t how you survived in his neighborhood. People didn’t give a shit about an ability to do differential equations – clout was won with fists, guns, and the occasional drive by shooting. No one really understood the darkness of the gang life outside of his little sector of the world. The Cartel had a direct link to the Underworld in Chicago – and Peter got caught in the web at a pretty young age.

May tried to stop him, she really did. When he first brought Quentin back to the apartment so he could grab some things to get the hell out of dodge for a couple of days, May cornered him in his room, a heated look on her face. “What are you doing with him, Pete? I told you I’d talk to Del Mar – we can get you a job.” May said the same words she’d been repeating to him over and over again since he turned 18. He’d been lucky so far, not getting caught in the illicit affairs he let himself get lost in.

“May, stop. I’m going to be gone for a couple of days. I can’t work for Del Mar right now.” He slammed the last couple of things he needed into the bag in his hand and brushed past her – the usual kiss on the cheek replaced by discontent and the slightest bit of disdain. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” Peter wondered how many people said that before bad shit happened to them.

Later that same night, Peter was standing on his usual corner with his new partner, Quentin Beck – the bosses second or third in command around the city. He’d been steadily working his way through the ranks throughout high school and now that he could be available whenever and wherever – they gave him the ultimate promotion. It felt weird at first, to have so much cash and product on him; but then again, Peter never really stopped feeling off about the whole thing since he got beat up into it more than four years ago.

Slipping a line of blow across the snuff box of his hand, Peter took a long inhale and let the powder enter his nasal cavity, the movement of the drug across his blood-brain barrier quick – the effects hit him straight in the chest only a moment or two later. It was his only bump for the night, he needed to keep alert for the busy time of the evening in a couple of hours. When the clubs closed, all of the little playthings would come crawling his way – the late-night hours still upon them.

The night went on like it usually did – he made a few transactions and talked shit with the guys while they stood around, waiting for the next batch of patrons to find their hidden corner of the world. Peter, despite his promise to himself, took another couple of bumps from the stash in his pocket, most of the night spent floating in that weird haze that made time speed up and slow down all at the same time.

Through the haze, Peter recognized the swirling red and blue lights of the cop car about a second too late. He tried to turn and run, his feet a little heavy from the drugs coursing through his system – but he tried, anyway. The four or five steps he took were not enough – all of the sudden, he was down on the ground with a knee in his back, his hands being pulled behind him. There wasn’t any use fighting it, so he turned his head into the concrete below him and let the officer do his thing.

Between the huge stack of money in his jacket pocket and the many, many, many baggies of cocaine, pills, and black balloons in his pants pocket, there was way more than enough to put him away. There wouldn’t be a crying May bailing him out for the fifth time – not after this one. Sucking in a deep breath, Peter waited impatiently in his holding cell; they liked to drag out this process, his previous experiences adding up to so many days sitting in this exact precinct waiting for something – anything to happen.

His stint in court was pretty quick – Peter knew not to name any names or talk about what he knew – so he took his sentencing and waved a handcuffed goodbye in May’s direction when they walked him out. He might as well get used to only seeing her from that distance – 10 years would be a long time to only see her through the partition in the meeting rooms.

The whole processing system of actually getting into the prison took longer than his court appearances. He was used to the bend, squat, and cough – so he blissfully got to put his orange jumpsuit on without further hassle. He thought about all the dumb fucks that came through here and caused a fuss – those people just begging for trouble. Peter knew enough to know the last thing he wanted to do was go sniffing around for anything that looked remotely like a problem. It was imperative to get in there, keep his head down, and find people that weren’t going to shank him when he wasn’t looking.

All in a single day’s work, he thought – a sadistic smile on his face.

His first night was spent in a temporary cell – the big guys that were waiting to be sorted just like him didn’t scare him, but he gave up the top bunk to a grunting man who eyed him up when he demanded; Peter wasn’t going to be sleeping much, anyway. He kept his eyes open and his brain active for the entire night – if he was going to get pulled him his bed, at least he’d be ready for it.

Luckily, the first night went pretty well and he got pulled into a double room later the next afternoon. When he was walked into the cell by a guard, the other side was empty – the protocol of separating the prisoners a little moot once Peter settled into his side of the room. Who was he to argue with the bull shit of this place? The guard gave him a once over before unlocking his cuffs and stepping out.

Sitting down on the flat mat that would serve as his mattress for the rest of the time here, Peter watched the guard bring in his roommate. The man was older, his temples were struck through with white hair. There was a vertical scar across his right cheek that led up to smooth bourbon colored eyes and long eyelashes. His tongue peaked out and trailed across his lip, the older man watching Peter watch him.

At first glance, the man did not scream criminal. He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at Peter while the guard undid his cuffs, then turned around and flipped him off when the door was closed and locked. “Thanks a bunch, Clint!” he shouted, his hands gripping the bars for a moment. Taking a deep breath, Peter braced himself – this initial interaction would more than likely set the tone for the rest of their relationship sharing this confined space.

When the man did turn around, Peter was struck by just how good all of those features looked together. He wasn’t tall, but there was a presence to him – his arms seemed well defined in the white jumpsuit this block wore. He crossed his fingers that this guy wasn’t some fucking psychopath, because he could easily see himself getting tangled up in whatever his roommate had to offer. A scary thought for not even knowing his name.

Without any preamble, the guy held a hand out between them, a smirk on his face. “Tony Stark,” he remarked confidently, his eyes glued to Peter. Knowing a challenge when he saw it, Peter slipped his hand into Tony’s. Though they were a little smaller than his own, Tony’s hands were rough, callouses riddling his palm and fingers.

“I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker,” he mumbled out, his cheeks heating up. What the hell was happening to him? All of the sudden it felt like his tongue was twenty pounds heavier than just a minute ago, his heart hammering against his chest. Gripping Tony’s hand tightly for another second, Peter pulled back – a guarded look on his face.

“You’re awfully young to be in a place like this, Peter Parker. What did a pretty thing like you do?” Tony asked, the customary ‘what’s your charge’ question was one he still wasn’t used to answering. It never occurred to him just how fucked up his life got until he uttered his drug charges – possession with the intention to distribute. The rabbit hole he let himself fall down was a big one.

Peter took a seat on his excuse for a bed again, his legs swinging crisscross applesauce in front of him like the literal child that he was. “Possession and distribution. All the hard stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders, irritable fingers picking at the snag at the end of his jumpsuit. “I’m not that young. Old enough to be here, anyway,” Peter muttered, his tone coming off a little petulant. At 18, he was old enough to spend the next decade of his life locked away – he felt old enough to not be called young anymore, too.

Tony threw his hands up in mock surrender, the smirk on his face growing a little. “I should have known. You have drugged up twink written all over you. Me, I liked to steal really expensive shit. Kind of a brainy criminal, if you will,” Tony stated. He smiled wide, like the Cheshire Cat, his eyes glowing a little. “Got any brains in that head of yours?” Tony took a step toward him then, his hand tapping on the middle of Peter’s forehead.

Simply rolling with it, Peter nodded his head – his eyes dropping a little bit. Something in him said to get on this guy’s good side. Part of it was his natural urge to submit to beautiful older men like Tony. He let Quentin walk him into a trap because he liked the lines around his eyes and the delectable way he could give Peter just enough to keep him coming back for more. His true druggy nature getting in the way of clear thought. Not this time, though – this was conscious and premeditated. To survive in here, he needed people on his side.

“Yes sir,” he finally responded, his chest tightening when he heard Tony take in a deep gulp of air. So, he’d chosen correctly. His lips slipped into the slightest of smiles, his instinct finally leading him in the right direction for once.

A palm cupped his cheek and tilted his head up, the man’s eyes catching his own. Peter saw heat there – brown pools quickly being swarmed by the black of his eye. Tony caressed his cheek softly, the touch a total contrast to the look on his face. Then, he pulled his hand back and slapped him – the echo of it making his teeth grind. “We’ll see, Peter Parker. We’ll see.”

Peter kept close to Tony throughout the rest of the day. Their cell doors opened a couple of hours later, guards stepping in to put them in cuffs and walk them out to the yard where they’d get a bit of fresh air. Out of all the experiences he’d ever had in jail, this one – the yard and all the vulnerability that came with being out in the open for most of the block population to see (and attack) – always made him nervous.

He quickly found he had nothing to fear, however. It wasn’t hard to see that the man he was with carried a sort of clout that only long-time crooks and murders could obtain. People looked away unless he was speaking to them and when he did, they gave him their full attention. Keeping his own eyes down, Peter was surprised to find them stopped in front of a cluster of guys sitting on some of the picnic benches just outside the cages around the gym.

“Guys – this is Pete.” He pushed at Peter’s arm, the movement thrusting him a little closer to the group. “Pete here says he’s smart. So he’s good with us until he stops being smart. Got it?” Tony looked at each of them, their heads nodding without a singular argument. Not for the first time since experiencing Tony’s raucous and completely intoxicating energy, Peter wondered what the actual fuck this guy was all about.

Either way, he didn’t question it. The group was large enough to have a perimeter around him at all times and they all seemed to do whatever Tony told them. As long as he was smart – which he wasn’t quite sure what that meant yet – he could count on the protection of the group of misfits that were gathered around his roommate like he was the actual messiah.

Peter quickly came to learn that Tony was the brains behind many operations within the prison. Since the older man’s duty was in the kitchen, he had access to delivery vehicles – which smuggled in products of interest for the other prisoners.

There was a pretty elaborately interwoven mechanism of distribution and payment that made Peter’s head spin thinking about it. He bit into his lip when Tony took him through it all, the massive amount of information that Tony kept in his head overwhelming.

He didn’t need to wonder about what being smart meant for long. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Tony picked up on his submission, the way he called him sir – hell, the way he followed him around like a puppy. It wasn’t hard to see it in his eyes, the want that fueled him where Tony was concerned. When the older man eventually came to collect, Peter didn’t hesitate or struggle. Their lips met in a hot kiss, a hot moan slipping from Peter’s lips. Tony tore away and pressed the side of his face against Peter’s.

“Fuck, you moan so pretty. But you have to keep it down for daddy, do you understand? The guards are only going to tolerate so much shit. And I plan to make you howl when I slam my cock inside of you,” Tony muttered, the words close enough to his ear that every one of them sent a tingle down his spine – the warm breath a swift contrast to the cool temperature in the cell.

He felt Tony reach down and grab him through his jumpsuit, his cock already rock hard. Biting into his lip, Peter stopped himself from yelping, the heat in his core already starting to overflow. Another hard squeeze had him standing right at the precipice – his body a total traitor. Tony huffed out a laugh, then covered Peter’s lips with his own. “Be a good boy and cum for daddy,” he whispered pulling away from the kiss a couple minutes later.

As if he would try to fight against that request – biting down harder on his lip, Peter felt himself cum in the only pair of boxers he’d been allowed. Tasting blood on his tongue made the haze he fell into even better, and he slumped against the wall bonelessly. Tony gave him all of a minute to recover before he was grabbing at him, hands tight on his shoulders.

“Get on your knees,” the older man demanded, his voice low and gravely – the tone one that didn’t leave room for any sort of questioning or argument. He slipped down to the hard floor and waited for Tony’s next instruction.

The rustling of clothes had him looking up, his eyes catching the bare flesh of his stomach before it was gone. Tony pulled himself out of his pants just enough to press his bare cock against Peter’s mouth.

“Open up, baby boy,” Tony murmured, his jaw already slack from the cold air across his sensitive flesh.

Opening his mouth, Peter took Tony in, the older man feeding him his dick – inch by inch. Tony kept a tight grasp at the base and let his hips tip forward to slip the length down Peter’s throat. He wasn’t the most experienced person in the world, but he learned how to breathe through his nose pretty quickly – Tony’s length impressive, despite his shorter stature. As the tip of Tony’s cock pressed against his throat, Peter felt himself drool down his chin, thick tears starting to collect in his eyes.

Tony’s hand moved from his dick to the back of Peter’s head and kept him there – his nostrils flaring as he tried to catch his breath. The hand stayed there for what felt like another year before fingers were tangling in his long curls and pulling his head away – a string of spit alive and well between his mouth and the tip of Tony’s cock. Gasping in a deep breath, Peter barely had time to wipe his chin before his throat was being assaulted again.

The older man took what he wanted until his hips started to stutter. Tony pulled back then, his eyes completely glazed – the look in them a little scary. His hand tightened in Peter’s hair and yanked until he was rising to his feet to ease some of the tension on the strands. The tip of his tongue played with the bite marks on his lip – the stimulus enough to stave off the sudden heat slamming into his chest.

“Turn around and drop your pants,” Tony grumbled, his cheeks flushed and lips moist from the man running his tongue over them.

Peter did what he was told – his head dropping against the concrete of the wall, Tony’s body immediately pressing him flush against it. Fingers were pressed into his mouth a rough “suck” being mumbled against the back of his neck. Tony nibbled and bit on the skin there, his teeth digging into the flesh when he managed to pull enough of it into his mouth.

Wrapping his lips around the digits, Peter sucked them into his mouth as far as they would go – the angle of his head turned not the easiest to manage. Knowing this was probably the only lubrication he was going to get, he laved at them with his tongue liberally. He felt like a fish off the hook when Tony pulled his fingers away.

There wasn’t much warning before one finger was against his rim, the tip rubbing the tight muscle for just a second before breaching – the slide a little dry, but the burn just right. He’d always gotten off on a little pain with his pleasure, so he marveled in it.

The drag of two fingers was even better and before he knew it, Tony was spitting into his hand, fingers gone and replaced with a blunt cock head. Rough hands on his shoulders pulled him back as Tony thrust forward, the stretch pulling a moan out of his throat that he couldn’t hold in – no matter how hard he tried.

“That’s right, baby. Moan for me. Tell daddy how much you like it,” Tony babbled, his words enhanced by the sharp thrusts in and out of his stretched hole. It felt a little raw, the drag back and forth – yet, Tony’s cock hitting his prostate was more than enough to make up for it. Tony reached around and gripped his cock with a tight hand, his strokes timing nicely with the roll of his hips.

Slipping over the edge was sudden, Peter tossing his head back a bit to let out a rough groan – his muscles clenched tight and every pulse of cum drawn from him felt like pure liquid fire. A rough bite on his neck signaled Tony’s release a moment later, the man’s hips slamming into him hard and staying there, the pulse of the man’s cock pulling another long moan from Peter’s lips.

Lips on his neck pulled him out of his orgasm induced haze – the press of Tony’s facial hair against the skin there making him shutter. “That’s a good boy,” Tony mumbled, his hands gripping Peter tight around the middle. With one more tiny thrust, the older man pulled out – a gruff gasp leaving his lips. “Fuck,” Peter heard, a small smile slipping across his lips.

If that’s what Tony wanted in return for protecting him – Peter was more than happy to oblige.

Things stayed pretty regular for a couple of months. Peter joined Tony in the kitchen, his brain a perfect addition to the already masterfully run plan. Without the drugs in his system, Peter could think much clearer. He contributed a lot to Tony’s already impressive plans – the man praising him on near constant basis, sometimes more than one time a day if they were lucky enough to catch a few private moments. It wasn’t like being on the outside, but it wasn’t too bad, either.

Of course, things always get bad when complacency sets in. He’d been absentmindedly sitting at their usual table in the mess when the rival group’s leader sat down across from him. Peter kept his head down and continued to eat. His break was only a few minutes and he wasn’t about to pass up the corn – it was one of the only good things in the whole damn place. Steve cleared his throat a couple of times before Peter looked up at him, a blank look on his face.

“What can I do for your, Rogers?” Peter asked, his voice dry, dull – the pitch of it like he was bored, or something. Tony told him not to engage with the man, they’d been friends or partners at one point, but things went south. The older man didn’t give details and Peter didn’t ask. He simply looked up and tilted his head, the utensil they were allowed gripped tightly in his hand.

“I just wanted to have a little conversation. It’s not often someone comes in and charms the pants off of Tony Stark. Thought I’d get to know a little more about you.” His leer made Peter want to jump out of his seat – the look one that Quill used to throw at him when he’d meet up with him for fill-ups. He didn’t like it then and he sure as hell didn’t like it now. The hair on his neck stood up, his mouth suddenly tongue tied.

A strong hand wrapped around his neck before he could get any words out, the touch immediately recognizable – “He’s not interested, Rogers. As a matter of fact, you sitting in front of him is offending the fuck out of him, isn’t it, Pete?” Tony gripped his neck tightly, his fingers squeezing enough to have Peter tilting his head back a little, eyes wide as he looked at him.

“Yes sir,” he answered swiftly, brown eyes never leaving Tony.

He heard a scoff across the table and felt the whole thing move a little when Steve got up from it. Peter tilted his head down and watched him square up towards Tony, a bunch of emotions tumbling across his eyes in a flash. “You can’t protect him forever, Stark. I’ll find a way to bring you down.” Steve held Tony’s gaze for a moment longer, then turned around and stalked back to his own table, his cronies immediately circling around him.

Tony took a seat next to him and gripped his cheeks. It wouldn’t be long before a guard yelled at him to drop his hands and break apart, so he spoke quickly. “Don’t engage him again. Do you hear me? Rogers is trouble and you’re a target because of me.” His thumbs brushed over Peter’s cheeks quickly, the show of affection rare, especially out in the open like this. Peter blinked a couple of times and nodded, his head in a billion different directions. The small bubble of safety he’d been so immersed in suddenly felt close to popping, his heart slamming against his chest in fear for just a moment.

“I hear you, Tony. I won’t. Promise.” Peter knew the words were true, too. His only desire was to make it out of this alive. At this point in time, Tony offered him the most protection and he wasn’t stupid enough to step outside of it. Clint banged his baton against the edge of their table, effectively pulling them apart. “Hands to yourselves, gentleman,” the guard said, a quirk in his lip as he spoke.

He had that same look on his face when he stepped away from the entrance to the showers a little while later. Peter didn’t hear Bucky until his face was thrumming from the first punch. His foot slipped on the shower floor below him and he hit the tiles hard, his right side protesting his weight. He felt feet slam into his chest and stomach, the lower part of his back and his legs. Curling up into a ball, Peter tried to keep himself as small as possible, the less surface area for them to hit, the less impact he’d have to deal with.

They stopped when he physically couldn’t struggle any longer – all of his limbs like jelly now that the ache and throb of all of his injuries made him feel numb. It took way too long for him to sit up and when Clint eventually came back to his post by the door, he radioed in the incident with a disastrous look on his face. Peter would’ve scowled at him if his eyes weren’t swollen shut.

His stay in the hospital was brief, the stitches on the side of his cheek the worst of the damage. All of the bruises would have to heal on their own, the purple and yellow of them going to be there for a while, if the physician they let him see was to be believed. He got released between mess and yard time, so he stumbled behind his guard until he could see his cell, the place feeling like coming home after 36 hours in nothing but white, his arms and legs strapped to a bed.

The second the new guard on the block, Bruce, left him in the cell, Tony flew off the bed and pulled Peter into his arms. He held back the wince from Tony’s too tight grip, the feeling of the older man’s hands was worth the throb of the bruises that littered his body. Peter let his arms drape loosely around Tony’s hips, his entire being tired – his limbs were beaten, his brain was all over the place; all he wanted to do was lay on the hard mat of his bed and slip into oblivion for a while.

Tony must have noticed because he dragged Peter to his side of the room and followed him onto the bed. Peter rolled towards the wall and shut his eyes, the ability to be in any position other than on his back a true godsend. He felt Tony’s scruff brush against the back of his neck, then heavy arms pulled him until he was pressed against the older man’s chest.

“I took care of it, Pete. No one is ever going to touch you again. No one.” Tony’s voice was gruff, despite not raising above a whispered.

“You’re mine and no one touches what’s mine.”

[pkmntrainergreyze]

The Emo School (Chapter 3)

Previous

Chapter 3: Modern Day Pain...

I didn't fail the test, I just found 100 ways to do it wrong. -Benjamin Franklin

09/14/01 FRIDAY

D A L L O N   W E E K E S

"Cocaine is God's way of saying you're making too much money, now that's just bull-f*ckin-sh*t Robin Williams, debunked"

I don't know how I got my hands on a 1000 funny quotes book, I don't know why I'm even reading it. Life sucks, that's how it works.

I'm contradicting myself am I? No? Okay, let's keep it that way-

"Dallon have you seen my cra-" he stopped my destructive train of thoughts that will have me go psycho again.

"No Brendon, ask Pete" I replied with a blank stare

"Uhh... no thanks"

Sycophant

Now, I guess that's my hypocrite self spitting venom. To think that I actually managed to slack off this shift made me wanna throw up. Just anxious stuff, sounds like a blog name, if I had access to blogs and not MySpace would have done things like that a long time ago.

(we have Tumblr Dal— oh wait, this is the early two thousands lel)

I'm think I'll the pink slip anytime soon, I can't help it, those lingering devils are going to be the death of me. I mean, once I enter the class I feel like choking myself for a trip to the clinic.

I sound like a really problematic guy, but then again, almost everyone has bigger problems than me. I just need to thank God I'm not in Pete's shoes.

I promise I'll do much better next Monday.

Seriously.

But then again, the students here are already talented and intelligent, sure with some exceptions nevertheless I'm still frightened by them.

"Are you just going to sit around inside the faculty Dallon? I think your students are worried. You don't have to worry about Miss Flack you know she regretted being the rebellious stage"

Snapping my head to the direction of the voice with a bit of distraught, I sighted Tyler with a box of cereal.

"Hello Tyler"

"Hello to you too Dall-"

"Salutations!"

There popped Josh with his trendy hat on, newly dyed hair, no care, like he didn't interrupted a conversation earlier, but I didn't mind and Tyler didn't seem to be upset either, they're friends after all.

"Have you seen Brendon?" "Yeah, asking for the same question here as well"

After Josh spoke, Tyler indeed raised his hand like an average student. I remained in my position before answering their very opposite toned questions "Yeah, he was just here a while ago before you entered, he probably went back to find his wee- lunchbox"

Josh smiled while Tyler's eyes furrowed a bit, questioning me with a hint of concern. "Thanks Dal, see ya later!"

With that, I was left in the room with an awkward situation with Tyler.

"U-Uh, see you later as well"

Thus, they both left the scene.

Tyler seems a little less confident today, a little more perplexed. Oh well, it is Tyler Joseph.

Sighing a bit, waiting for Brendon to get in trouble later on; I opened the book once more, licking my fingers, before entering page three hundred and ninety-four.

●-----------------------●

"Guys can someone name all the borders Egypt has-"

Riiiiiiiiing

"A-alright I'll see you all next Tuesday"

I didn't even notice the clock, oh well. Maybe I'm not fit for a History Teacher. I'd sometimes wish they could just find a replacement so I could retire and not feel bad about it.

I could hear the continous rumbling noises from the students' side of the room once they dragged the chairs out to stand up and leave. It did took me a while to understand the salty aftertaste it left on my mouth. Instead of complaining I just readied myself for the next class to enter and... Probably chew gum and place another batch underneath the tables... Our poor janitor's been through a lot today.

Chewing gum isn't cool or the janitor won't have fun in school.

That... It reminds me of Dad...

●-----------------------●

"How can you say sorry to a man who's probably high on drugs?" Ryan pondered as he took a sip of milk through a white and red stripped bendy straw.

I stared at his looking-through-space form.

"You're the philosopher and a very known substitute science teacher here, I'm pretty sure both things go well if you're a pro, you tell us"

Silence.

Then it hit me

"Wait— is that why Brendon's not here?"

That childish man-child wouldn't stop doing weird things huh? Yesterday he texted me saying stranger things with the lines of "quitting pipes", making me look like a very guileless teenager who just learned what methamphetamine means.

What—of course I knew what drugs are!

What do you mean Brendon sprinkled 'magical coke' on me, coca cola isn't a very solid material—

"Yeah, I told him to fuck off yesterday, I was really pissed off when he told me to put back the white cheese in the grocery shelves"

Of course that would happen.

"I don't know Ryan, treat him like a human being-" he gave me a mini glare, oh shit I didn't mean for it to sound... Nevermind.

"s-since some people think stoners don't have a life" I added to make it sound more... decent.

How do you control men at their age of 27? Exactly, I don't get the appeal on doing it as well, let them run around, do weird crap that'll get them fired.

Actually, don't do that.

I wonder if Brendon's interested in things like the 27 club-

No Dallon, bad thoughts Dallon. Bad thoughts.

"Just say sorry or something, give him space when he avoids you a bit too much... "

That advice sucks so bad, just like the way Ryan eats his cheese whiz.

I hope Ryan doesn't blame me if everything went downhill

"I'm blaming you if everything went downhill" He laughed after saying such playful words that make me shiver "You're too easy to read Man-Tree, and yeah, I know, it's okay if you didn't have any idea what to give for an advice"

At least he took a hint on not doing what I said.

Wait did he just compare me to a tree, I feel sorta honored—

From the corner of my left eye; I saw Patrick sprinting away confused and scared of Ryan's words.

"Eh, now I understand why Patrick would start to avoid me" "You can say that again"

●-----------------------●

I'm still unsure how to feel about Miss Williams' presence in the cafeteria. I mean, sure, she's known for being a great librarian and she also teaches in the senior building but still...

I'm still not used to seeing her here rather that seeing her inside the library, reading somethings I don't understand.

"Geez Dal, is it really weird for me to buy food here?"

"Yes Hayley, it just is"

She laughs and put down the tray on top of the cliche tables. The clock strucking on twelve would make sure that break's over.

"Well, get used to it. I'm tired of waking up early to make lunch, and besides food here is amazing" Her laugh has always been familiar for everyone. The Juniors considers her a cool and casual teacher that they'll love to learn from... Wish I could be like that, not complaining though, I love Dadlon.

"Hey, I'm not saying you shouldn't eat here and all"

"I know Dal"

●-----------------------●

"I feel like the electrolyte in a battery terminal"

"Why so Frankie?"

"Please don't call me that Dallon" Frank cringed before rubbing his shoulders while it shook. Seems like only Gerard can get to call him that, what a shame.

"I just got here, what happened?" I threw the plastic from the burgers straight down the trashcan, he just watched and waited until I come back.

"Welp, two of my rad students just roasted one another and now teachers are pretty much asking me things I don't even know" He sighed, stressed.

"I mean, how am I supposed to know what's the cause of the problem?" He flipped his hands and shrugged, as of to look clueless and annoyed.

"Don't you roast people?"

Okay, why did I say that.

"..."

"...Oh yeah I get it, whatever. I'm proud of my students, if I we're the principal I'll let them graduate" His comment of self awareness isn't making things better.

●-----------------------●

"Hey Brendon you alright?"

Brendon's been pulling his hair for a straight minute, he's bent over while sitting on his chair like he's going to break any minute, of course he's not alright.

"I-I can't take it"

His eyes looked puffy from both crying and a side effect of something I wouldn't wanna know.

"Shh, it's going to be okay" I tried removing the hands he used to cup his face but he appears to be much stronger than me.

He curls up, knees now covering his eyes and his arms strengthening the force that defends his pride.

"What happened?"

"Re-relapse? I don't f*cking know. I've been trying to make myself think that I won't be smoking but it always ends up like this Dal"

"Shh, shh, I'll tell Pete you're sick, I'll substitute"

Okay, wrong move, I don't know how to deal with students. But for Brendon... I wouldn't mind helping... He's a great friend after all, even though he's kind of a dick.

"T-thanks..."

"Anytime"

●-----------------------●

"It gets tiring honestly" I sipped on a new batch of coffee I prepared just two minutes ago while Ryan speaks gibberish, well, genius gibberish... That's not a thing I know.

"Sometimes people just forget that they should know who's worth their time and happiness or not, and they'll often use destructive emotions to get into the way of their relationship until two sides wouldn't dare speak with each other while one is hurting" He continued as he licked on the spoon of Cheese Whiz, gliding the cheese up to the tip of the spoon.

"Tell me Dal, have you given up a friendship?"

"Well, I don't think I have the guts to" I spoke with honesty "—but I should do that"

"Wow, that's kind of not conforting my situation right now"

"Oh sorry"

"But in all seriousness, I just hope he makes up his damn mind and if he ever says it's over then he should just keep it like we're strangers."

"Geez, you sure are quite frank with this. Have you lived through a rough path or something?" I successfully lightened up the mood, I can see Ryan smiling fron the corner of my eye.

"Well, you can't trust people easily who knows, they might steal your cheese" I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

"Ryan, no one says that"

"I did so deal with it Dallon"

●-----------------------●

"Hey there Mister Way" Micheal looked from his behind to see me greeting him "I've heard you've been visiting the music room with Mister Toro, what instrument are you interested in again?"

"More like forced by my brother and Ray, they want me to play the bass" Sounds about right.

"I could help you, you know?"

He shrugs "Thanks"

That blank stare would be the death of me, he looks like that one hero in an action movie that does Karate and that has bad temper.

Why is the Way brother's so complicated?

●-----------------------●

"Joshuuuuaa"

"Tyleeeeeer"

I witnessed one of those amazing scenes a human eye could record.

It was the miraculous handshake that the bestest friends does whenever they had the chance. Yeah, it may not be that rare of an action but it something that keeps me going.

"Woah, that's so cool guys!"

That was a big mistake.

Tyler hissed and threw his arms around Josh's neck while he tried hard to carry his odd friend. "Woah Tyler!"

"He. Just. Witnessed. Our. Secret. Handshake!" He hissed once more, emphasizing on each word. He added more stress on it than any normal person would.

"It's not that big of a deal—" "Of course it's a big deal Josh! That was something special to me! To us!"

Can I compare Tyler to a cat by now?

Seriously, he sounds like a cat thats been impaled with a knife to the gutter.

... Don't ask me why I know this.

●-----------------------●

"Okay Brendon, truth or dare?"

"Uhh... I'd say truth"

"If Ryan, Dallon or Spencer were to be hanging at the edge of a cliff, who would you pick?"

Brendon smirked as he continued to share a gaze with Spencer, who's shaking his head with the similar curved line plastered in his face.

"We all know the answer would lead to some four-thousand long *ss fanfiction"

What does he even mean by that? What's a fan fiction? Whatever it's probably Ryan. Although he wouldn't talk about him since...

wait

"What happened with you and Ryan?"

There was this prolonged silence that shouldn't have been that long if Brendon decided to speak early but he decided to go against the idea. He just stared, a little empty, like the time he was pranked

"He's having emotional mood swings inappropriate for his age, is all"

Well, I wouldn't call it a mood swing.

I mean, Ryan just love cheese, it's not like he's actually addicted to it like people joked around, right?

"Not true babe, I remember him using Cheese instead of cucumbers for therapeutic purposes" He emphasized on Babe and Therapeutic Purposes just to lace a sarcastic vibe on the topic about Ryan...

....

Nah, not true.

"Well, suit yourself"

I don't know why I'm easy to read.

"Because you're saying things out loud Mister Weekes!" The british transferee answered in such amusement. Spencer choked on his drink as he attempts to stiffle a laugh while the others, such as Josh and Frank (Iero, getting tired of correcting what Frank am I talking about with how many Franks are there) did not show any shame.

"Am I really saying it out loud?" Murmurous was the way my voice behaved. Patrick frantically nodded "Hells yeah"

"Hells yeah? Mister Stump says Hells Yeah?" Pete chimed in, slipping a seat next to Patrick and Tyler. "For the record Patrick, I am not letting you forget that, it's just historic- oh Mister Sheeran can you please hand the books you used to Miss Williams? It's been a week. Thanks"

As soon as the last student left for such 'delivery', the sounds of students seems to be getting farther and farther; with the exception of those who stays to wait for their service/school bus of course.

"What's up?" Pete joined the party.

"Nothing much, just our traditional Truth or Dare Friday, Brendon's turn to ask" While Joe—who just finished his class at Grade Twelve—spoke, Pete sips into his starbucks coffee.

"Cool, continue Brendon"

"You in?"

"Nah"

"Pay for view."

Joe's small joke sent Pete a payful glare at the Trohman-Fro man. "Later", he answered.

"Well, Gerard" there was this sparking tension once Gerard's responce came knocking "Yes?"

Brendon's face turned rock solid, like some action movie interrogation is about to happen as he stared at what seems to be a "punk criminal" at the moment and he was Clint Eastwood. Gerard didn't even flinch or look fazed, but rather reserved. "Do you believe in aliens?"

The fuc-

The question made him flinch real bad, some shocking news right? Brendon smirks, but no laughter was heard from him, rather the other players—plus Pete—in the game.

"I-I-uh..." Gerard pushes the stray locks of hairs behind the back of his ear, odd enough, I could now feel his nervousness. What, is he an alien or something?

"I-I'd say I'm a little too hesitant to answer that"

"Boo" Pete's response made others laugh along, although Gerard did glare at him.

I never thought a mysterious—and almost nefarious—character like him woulf sound nervous and look sweaty at that moment, "it's like that moment came from somewhere else"

"Agreed" Spencer replied in approval.

I'm speaking out loud again am I? Is this because of my lack of sleep? Yeesus— I mean... Yeah.

"Imagine if Gerard's an alien" The thought was bothering me and I have to say it, sorry "I mean, he looks like he could be one— I mean, he loves the scent of drugstores"

The conversation carried on with Frank adding details and the others consistently listening to his talk about Gerard's secret origins fron Reprise, even made a narration out of it

"And he's the artist who would get out of a planet called Reprise since he's so f*cking lonesome— Oh let's give him a acquaintances" Frank glances at the others with cheeks puffing from the breath he's beginning to hold, Pete laughs "How 'bout an alien space companion?"

"Oh! How about a pink masked alien-"

"no" Gerard blocked but Spencer's muffled laughs is still heard.

"-named Lola!" Josh's voice has audible enough and Gerard-proof for everyone to hear

And thus, this ship about an imaginary alien and a grumpy teacher was born

●-----------------------●

"Are you sure he didn't say that in a more normal way? Are you sure this story is real? I mean, it's a bit too descriptive if you ask me that's kinda skeptical—"

"No, he said it in a Gerard Way, of course he's weird Dallon. All the teachers here are way too young and talented Dal, they say and do weird things" Pete said, pathetically laughing at his own joke. He didn't mind though, he's too happy to even care. "And incase you forgot students here are as talented as well, only this time they're quite well known, and you're special too Dallon, you're a well known bassist not only in town you know? So hearing a story about a drunk comic artist isn't that odd if you know where to go"

"I... I just don't believe he would go around and say Easy Peasy Pumpkin Peasy and stuff like that..."

"He also said Pumpkin pie motherfucker in case you forgot" He added in such delight, I swear if this is some japanese cartoon there would be flying sparkles everywhere.

I stayed behind because I have to prepare myself for upcoming Summative Assessments and since I already noted Pete that Brendon won't come he said I should do his work for tomorrow. Welp, this is what friends are for, some are worth doing examinations for.

"Well, you haven't heard of Brendon's campfire stories back then haven't you?" Pete asked with a small smile, I shook my head to say no.

"No, I haven't"

I just came to this school last year, in November so I missed the month.

"Eheh, he should be doing that soon, our camping is in October after all, shame you didn't git to attend last year too" He teased "—he loves to freak kids out. I remember that one time he told the story of... What was that? LA Devotee was it? Oh, he doesn't only do horror, he actually tells some funny ones... He'd act drunk and tell history stuff just to mock the old history teacher"

I bet you all twenty bucks he was drunk, and about the history thing....

Looks like I'm not looking forward to that.

"Aww, don't be Dal" He pouted as he placed the globe on the top shelf "He just love to tease the guy so much, gosh I couldn't remember his name"

"Looks like you're old enough to retire" Joe chimed in with a small joke that had Pete to glare at him.

"Not yet Joe"

"Heh, my bad"

"I haven't heard of the old history teacher"

"I think his name was Briar or something, we're not that close" Joe shrugged as I almost wanna place my grabby habds to his hair. "He never really came back since he had to take care of something"

"Oh, I see" I just hope Brendon doesn't make fun of me at camping

"Oh dear, you're about to see how things go down in history at October. Some retirees would visit the school at the month" Pete smiled once more before snapping his fingers "Oh yeah! Last time we had Mister Tre to roast the kids' marshmallows"

"Yeah and he almost burned his clothes"

"It was pretty dope to see him roll around" Joe added more to his statement before chuckling loudly.

Our twittering didn't last long, like it usually does. Pete heard a call from his phone in the office, wow, he sure has some very nice hearing.

"Woops, be right back!" He left the room after he pointed his index finger to us.

"Bet you ten bucks it's his father"

"No need Joe, I already know it's him"

"I really love the way Pete still loves his Dad even though he just let him control one school, unlike his siblings" I chortled this time "welp, I think his father's just testing him. I think he's still new for a Principal"

"Yeah that's true, seems like only yesterday we'd jam out into Green Day and Misfits" He reminisced over the past memories.

"Wait, are you guys almost at the same age?"

"Yeah, Pete isn't that old as he looks. He's so fuckin' immature back then you know? God, his hair sucks so bad back in his emo phase"

"I HEARD THAT!"

Joe frozed but then the ice melted away when I snickered at the newfound look

"BUT ITS TRUE!"

Haha, yep. I still wanna teach at this school.

I looked around the office once more and found something pretty odd. It was a picture frame with four veey familiar figures.

"Is that..." I pointed at the object as Joe tilted his head lightly before snapping.

"Oh, that picture? Yeah, that was when we were to take a picture for an album we never really released"

"Really?" "Yes really"

"Then why does Andy looked like he's been edited to the picture?"

Joe snorted

"Andy always poses in that semi-sideview way, he's really there when the picture was shot. I swear" He said in all seriousness to stress on his words. I rolled my eyes.

"I doubt that"

"Oh why wont you ask Andy" "Wont be be offended though?"

"How would Princess be?" Joe stared with sincere confusion "He'd probably laugh cause it's true"

"Would he? That's more like your thing Joe" I muttered lowly but hoped for him to hear the words at the same time.

"... Yeah you're right kiddo"

I picked it out, thumbs onto the front frame and the others to support it. It was filtered in a light blue shade. It was Pete, Andy, Patrick and Joe from left to right. The names were written in beautiful fonts and were printed nicely, although seeing "Peter" and "Joseph" still makes me uncomfortable.

Joe was right, Pete's hair does suck so bad.

"Ouch, you guys are teaming up on me now? Jesus" Pete soon entered without me noticing, eh, I don't care if he heard my thoughs anymore.

"Hey, don't say his name in vain Peter" Joseph scolded with a small smirk when he said his name.

"Don't be a hypocrite Joseph, remember Senior Prom?"

"Oh I remember your geeky dance very well Peter" Joe laughed as he got coffee from the machine. Pete laughed as it seemed like the plan of bringing back awkward memories backfired.

"Whatever Joseph Roughman"

"I'm pretty sure the announcer at that time was kinky as hell" Joe and Pete continued the conversation, forgetting my presence. I don't mind, it's funny to watch them being so comfortable.

"Ah, didn't Patrick had this tied hair to the back that time?" "I think so, although nothing can defeat Brendon's forehead"

"Ye-yeah, right" Pete slyly hid his with his hair with a crooked smile. "Right..." He reassured himself, Joe smirks larger than earlier.

"Welp, we sure had good times with the band huh?"

"Yeah... I miss screaming"

"Eh, I miss Patrick's soul voice more than yours"

Pete glared at Joe as Joe defensively raised his two hands high. "Just sayin'! Just sayin'!"

"So... What was the name of the band?"

"Not was Dallon, it's kind of an underground band but we're Fall Out Boy"

"So you guys still a thing?"

"If you meant in a four-some gay relationship hell no, but sure why not?" Joe winked as Pete shivered in disgust

"Joe you disgust me" "I could tell that myself Pete"

"Don't mind Joe, but yeah, we still are. It's just that we're on a break for a while now" Pete grabbed Joe's empty cup into the trashcan as he asked for. "—I mean, even Ryan and Spencer was in a band with that Brent guy"

"Brent? Like Brendon?"

"Nope, Brent is a different person from our beloved B-den"

"Oh, never really knew about him" I sighed then placed the picture back at the table to which I saw it first. Pete gasped once it processed.

"Wait, you haven't heard of it yet? They'd use to play as Slight Anxiety or something, but Brent left and all. They're pretty well known in Nevada, New Jersey and Chicago. You probably heard of them from Mister Gioia as well" After Joe stated it I just brushed it for now, I should ask him that tomorrow.

"Nah, not really"

"I should lend you my copy of the cds sometime. Although don't forget, the titles are really wordy" His offering made me smile. Joe did the same. Wow, they're acting like a very supportive family, I might get my Dad vibes on.

"Oh, thank you. I'd love to hear it— I mean it's not like I'm doing that cause you're my boss or something but—"

"It's okay Dal. No problem" He understands.