honestly i would steal 175 donuts too
Regulus was on top of the fucking world. Well, he was on top of a building, actually.
After his declaration of hate towards Deadpool, he got home, made himself some hot chocolate, cracked open a huge ass tub of mint choc chip ice cream and curled up with some Dostoyevsky. He was pretty content.
Regulus woke up in a pretty stereotypical teenage nerd position, with the book smack on the middle of his face and sprawled out on his bed. He was still pretty happy. Well, as happy as Regulus could get. Then he got a text from arguably one of his most favourite people in the world.
panda bear <33
REGGIE :)
hey panda
guess what reggie
what panda
I found a butterfly today!
thats awesome panda!
yeah and guess what
butterflies can drink blood!
rhey jsut lap it up if they can find it
holy shit pandora why do you know that
why are you such a depressed gayboy
???
goodbye regulus arcturus black!
bye panda
Then he got a text from someone else. (Who was still pretty high on his list, even though he’ll never admit it.)
infuriating bastard
REGGIEEEE
omfg what now
nothing
i just wanted to say good morning
oh
k.
this mf thinks he’s a cigarettes after sex song💀
fuck off sirius
go kys
die
…
good morning
cunt
love you too <3
Overall pretty good start to the day, he’d say. He trudged to his wardrobe and got dressed, deciding to wear the suit under his clothes just in case, grabbed his backpack and started walking out.
London was really fucking cold. That was one thing that hardly ever changed. Which was fine, because Regulus thrived in the cold.
Cold hands? Regulus had them anyways, and he liked how, after a good ten minutes, they numbed so he couldn’t hold anything well.
Snow? Regulus fucking adored snow. He pulled a Lorelai Gilmore every first snow of Winter, although he’d never openly admit it.
Hypothermia? Good. Regulus could pull a Richard Papen except he’d (hopefully) actually die instead of joining a weird Homer-Dionysus worship cult.
He was blasting The Smiths through his headphones as he opened the door slightly and slipped through into the cafe.
His favourite cafe, arguably. Mainly because the coffee was free. Not because they had a bad business plan, mind you. His friend, Dorcas, worked there. He was originally the one to convince her to talk to her coworker who she had a massive, rabid, savage, ugly, heinous, soul-consuming crush on, Marlene Mckinnon.
For that, he got free coffee every single morning for the rest of Dorcas’ life, apparently.
Dorcas and Marlene bought Doc Martens and eyeliner together, which according to Dorcas, was apparently a rite into a deeply instated lesbian relationship. Regulus wouldn’t know, obviously.
“Well well well, if it isn’t Resident Gayboy.”
Regulus couldn’t hear Dorcas over Morrissey (that hoebag) singing “I am the son, and the heir, of a shyness that is criminally vulgar” so he shoved one ear of the headphones off with his shoulder.
“Huh?”
“Resident Gayboy, that’s you.”
“Why the fuck do people keep calling me that?”
“Oh… honey…”
“No, I know I’m gay Cas,”
“Okay, good, cause I was ‘bouta say-”
“You know how I get my coffee, stop stalling,”
“Okay grumpy pants, I need you to calm down several steps.”
Regulus rolled his eyes and stepped off to the side while Dorcas prepped the cup to make his coffee.
“Prepping” the cup included her drawing a star on the coffee cup for a name, it was known by all the workers at the Coffee Bean Cafe that a cup with a star on it went to a depressed, dark haired, broody teenager.
Five minutes later, he was out of the shop holding the coffee cup. Bloody hell he had wanted coffee. He hadn’t really realised how coffee deprived he was until he practically snatched the cup out of Dorcas’ hand and almost tripped trying to get out quick enough.
Regulus was taking his usual route, when he decided, fuck it, let’s become Spider-Man. He didn’t have anything urgent to do, and it’d do him good to bask in his victory against Deadpool. Fucker’s already on his way out of town, probably.
He looked around and ducked into an empty dark alley. Well, as dark as an alley could get at 10 in the morning.
You see, usually this would warrant a cut-to-black scene, with Regulus trying to hop out of his pants without sitting down on the cigarette-butt-ridden floor and trying to position his bulge so it doesn’t look awkward because let’s be real, people, testicular torsion is a thing. Actually, that shit’s mad embarrassing, forget that, pretend it was a cut-to-black scene.
He was flying around street corners, trying to find crime or a mysterious rooftop to majestically sit on. This was probably one of his favourite parts of the job, other than helping people (which was really the face of a will to prove that he was a good person, despite his family heritage). He loved flying around anywhere, although he wouldn’t jump out of building just to fly. He liked the fact that he had a self-sufficient support system when he was flying: his webs. It gave him the ability to just. Float.
He had found a good building that had a good overview of central crime spots and was majestic enough to pose as if he was part of a 100+ issue comic franchise with multiple of its own movies and TV shows.
Pfft. As if.
Just as Regulus was having his majestic superhero moment, some twat had to steal from a cafe in plain view from where he was sitting. The bloke ran out (quite slowly, might he add) and made a straight beeline right down an alley and towards a black unmarked van parked at the end of the alley.
Of course, they couldn’t have done this at night or when there wasn’t a superhero with super powers sitting directly above them. It was almost like people didn’t know how to steal shit anymore.
He groaned gutturally and pulled his mask on, not even realising he was still holding that damn coffee cup and pushed himself off the edge of the building, plummeting a good 40-60 metres to the ground before grabbing the wall on the other side of the alley with a web and calmly walking down the wall horizontally.
Once he reached the ground, he simply reached out and grabbed the guy with his web from the end of the alley and pulled him towards Regulus. He wrapped him up with the webs and looked down the alley to see the van with one other guy in it. This was a two man job. Only two incredibly incompetent men. Fuck’s sake.
Regulus ran over to the van with the guy in it who seemed semi-paralysed in shock, going to start the car painfully slowly. Before his hand could even reach the key, Regulus had him tied up with his web as well. Regulus walked (strutted) back to the first guy, who was holding a massive box of what appeared to be a solid 175 donuts, and Regulus’ ears were nearly bleeding with how annoying he was.
“No-no, wait I’m sorry, I’m sorry man, I’m sorry, don’t-don’t beat me up man-”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to do that unless you don’t shut up.”
“No, wait, please, I promise, I didn’t mean to do anything, please-”
“Shut. up.”
“Hey, man, you know, my parents? Yeah, they divorced last year, it’s been pretty hard on me, I promise, I’m sorry, p-please, he made m-” Regulus had punched him square in the face, knocking him out immediately. It wasn’t even that hard of a punch, not even using a hundredth of his superhuman strength, he was just a wuss.
“My parents are dead. I win.”
He turned to the guy’s friend. “You want that to happen to you too?” He cocked his head to the side.
His friend, who’s mouth was currently ‘taped’ up with the web across his mouth eyed his partner, head lolled to the side and nose bleeding, and shook his head violently.
Regulus shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He flexed his hand before dragging them both with one hand to the owner of the cafe, who was looking on in shock and appreciation. He handed the box to her and dropped the two at her feet for the police to take care of.
“Have a nice day, ma’am.”
He spun around on his heel picking up the coffee he set down briefly, and walked back down the alley. He figured he could get his backpack at the end of the day, nobody was looking around the city for nineteen year old boys’ backpacks with notebooks filled with sad boy poetry in it on top of buildings.
He turned the corner to find a figure sitting on top of a recycling bin, kicking his feet, drawing and listening to “BOYFRIEND, GIRLFRIEND” by Tyler, the Creator.
Morning fucking ruined.
“No fucking way,” he muttered.
Deadpool. This guy just won’t quit, huh?
He grinned under his mask like he was expecting Regulus.
“Oh, hello,” he dramatically tossed the drawing away, not having nearly the effect he wanted it to have, because it spun around in the air and landed at Regulus’ feet, revealing an incredibly unrealistic and cartoonish sun drawn in yellow and black crayon. Stealing Wolverine’s colour scheme too, apparently. “Fancy seeing you here,” he continued.
“I really don’t,”
“Shhhhhh” Deadpool reached out a finger to put against Regulus’ mouth, and was slapped away immediately. “Okay, got it, no problem, you aren’t the touchy-feely type - perfect bad boy persona, I feel ya.”
“I doubt that.”
Deadpool ignored him. Something he’s been doing recently, apparently. “You like this song?”
“Nope. Don’t do that.”
“I’m assuming not a huge hip hop fan? Okay that’s fine, in fact, that actually brings our compatibility score up.”
“Not that, numbnuts, don’t mansplain songs to me, you Patrick Bateman wannabe.”
“Whoa, why so hostile? Just because I mildly stalk you and carry around guns and swords and watch those ‘Six Bisexuals and 1 Straight Person Comes Out” videos unironically and- no wait I get it now.”
“I should’ve just stuck to rooftops, why did I come here?”
“Well you came because I’m here-”
“I will knee you in the balls.”
“Please,”
“No.”
“Please… daddy?”
Regulus went to punch whoever this guy was, and his fist was swiftly grabbed midair.
“Whoa, cowboy, that’s fine, I don’t have much of a daddy kink either, my specialty is having a degrad-”
“Why are you here?”
“Well, one day, my parents were feeling especially frisky,”
“No, shut up, why are you here, in London?”
“Well,” he looked around suspiciously before motioning for Regulus to step closer. He eyed Deadpool warily and stepped forward cautiously. “I know the big boss, right? And one day, he was all ‘hey, Deadpool, I know you’re really busy pulling bitches of all genders, but I need you to stalk out this one potential uprising crime’ and yada yada yada, I stopped listening after that.”
“Fine, whatever, but why are you out on the streets? Stalking out mafia bosses or whatever can, technically, be a work-from-home job experience.”
“Well, I like seeing you, Spidey, and,” he motioned for Regulus to lean in closer, which he did, and he kissed him on top of the head.
Regulus immediately jolted backwards and narrowed his eyes at Deadpool. He just waved his fingers at him, blew a kiss, stole the coffee cup from him and hopped off the bin, disappearing into a door somewhere in the alley.
Regulus was this close to bashing his head in because who was this guy, and why did he have such nice abs?