how to deal with an epidemic of troubled youth
“Hey kid, have you… slept?” Someone had asked Regulus, who had rocked up to the Daily Bugle office at 8:00 am lugging a backpack full of textbooks and a camera. He was also lugging sullen, squinting eyes and messy hair and eyebags the size of the actual bag he was carrying.
“No.” He was up all night studying. College was a bitch. So was W*******, whose voice in the back of his head wouldn’t stop taunting him even if he tried to sleep. So he ended up awake all night at the library.
“Go home man, you’ve got- holy shit, you’ve got good photos,” they remarked, looking over the photos he had also taken last night.
He knew their name, he just couldn’t be bothered to find it in the drawl of genetic manipulation and cell division and Shakespearian sonnets floating around his head.
“O-okay,” he had mumbled, turning around and trudging out the building, pocketing his ID card.
overconfident dork
regulus
you’re stupid
thanks cas
let me finish omd
i left food for you
in your house
since you were MIA
i was at the library
then the db
not the workaholicness reg😩
dude im literally fine
but
thanks
anyways
or whatever
the love for me is beautiful omgg we're the best of friends
He had dragged his feet up through the lift to his floor and had trudged down the hall.
He grabbed the door handle and pushed his door open.
Except it didn’t open and Regulus ended up walking directly into it.
“Ah- fuck,” he had muttered, rubbing his nose.
Fucking Dorcas Meadowes. She had left food for him, huzzah!
But she had locked the fucking door.
Everyone had keys to his flat except for him, apparently.
He had sighed and sat down, reaching into his bag and pulling out two bobby pins that he apparently had instead of his keys.
So that was how he ended up kneeling in front of his own door, lockpicking his own lock.
“You… fucking… fucker…” he grunted everytime it didn’t open or the door didn’t click open.
“Well well well, looks like we’ve got a regular MacGyver here, need any help robbing a bank with a bar of soap next?”
Regulus grimaced and turned around to squint up at one James fucking Potter, standing behind him holding a container.
“Okay. Look, this is my flat.”
“Sure, that’s what all the criminals say.”
“I forgot my keys, dammit. And if I were to lockpick someone else’s lock, I wouldn’t do it in the morning in a hallway with security camera- wait, why are you even here?”
“Um, this is for you.” He shoved the container at Regulus, who peered suspiciously inside.
“I eat drywall?”
“It-it’s from Sirius.”
Regulus scoffed. “Makes sense.”
He turned around to continue getting inside his own flat.
“I see gifts in the form of -probably inedible- pastry have no effect on your criminal nature.”
“Can you not?”
“Well that’s no fun, and I can’t not be funny. It’s like asking a bear not to eat salmon, or the moon to be not made out of cheese.”
“I- the moon isn’t made out of cheese.”
“Ha! There’s the charming Black nature everyone loves, hilarious, truly.”
“The ‘charming black nature’?”
James’ jaw dropped. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Whatever you say, James.” Regulus grunted, standing back up and slinging (heh, slinging) his backpack over his shoulder and opening the door.
Regulus stopped in his tracks, eyes widening and jaw dropping as he took two steps into the apartment.
After half an hour of sleep resting (and drooling) on a textbook about oxygen transport genetics in a dusty library, he definitely didn’t need this.
What is ‘this’? You might ask.
Well, Regulus had just walked in on two elderly people making out.
On the couch.
At 9:00am on a Thursday.
“Whoa,” James muttered from behind him, no doubt having the same look on his face. “Nobody told me you would be hosting a ‘Fifty Shades of Gray’ sequel for octogenarians in your flat, Reggie.”
“Shut up,” he hissed, shoving him back out and closing the door as quietly as possible. “Wrong apartment.”
“Ya think?”
“Bugger off,” he went one door down, going to open the door. Only to find out the the door was locked. Thanks a lot, Dorcas.
“ Nobody hears of this.” Regulus glared at James, zipping his backpack back open to fish out the bobby pins.
“Like anyone would believe me,” James scoffed. “ ‘Hey Sirius, you know what I saw earlier? Regulus walked in on two old people making out while trying to lockpick his own door!’ I’d get put in a mental institute.”
“Yeah, where you belong.” Regulus muttered.
“Whatever, what I mean to say is that your secret’s safe with me, Reggiekins.”
“Don’t call me that. And what if someone bribed you with a blowjob?”
“I- well- I-” he spluttered. “I have some dignity, I respect the secret keeping business.”
“Oh. Well I’d take the blowjob.”
He cut off James’ widening mouth and “OOOHHHHHH” by grabbing the cake and slamming the door in his face.
He put the cake down at the counter and walked past James still yelling “OOOOHHHHHHH” from outside the door.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
“Fuck off,” Regulus groaned at his phone ringing, standing up and patting down his pockets before realising he left it in the bathroom.
He grabbed it off the bathroom counter, answering it without seeing who it was.
“Hm?”
“Regulus,” he heard Evan’s voice on the other line.
“Yeah?”
“So, you know that thing you had to fight earlier? The… toxin guy.”
“Venom?”
“Yeah, whatever. So…”
“He’s back, isn’t he?” Regulus sighed and dropped the fork he was using to eat the (surprisingly mediocre) cake from Sirius.
“Yeah, sorry bud.”
“Where is it?”
So Regulus/Spider-Man was off.
To fight a cross between discharge and an oil slick.
Once again.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
Of course Regulus was back on the tube.
If they were in ‘Murica, maybe they would have a huge tower headquarters.
But for now, Regulus was back on the tube.
“It’s Spider-Man!” The hushed voices around him whispered as he waved sheepishly, slumping down further in his seat, wondering if Deadpool was gonna be there too.
But holy fuck, was Regulus tired. He was Spider-Man too, so he was sure nobody would care if he just closed his eyes for a few minutes. It’s not like anybody would care, anyways.
Well half a minute into ‘resting his eyes’, someone flicked his forehead, which was lolled to the side.
“I- huh?” He mumbled, looking up into another pair of white, suited eyes. “Piss off,” he groaned, leaning his head back.
“Heyyy princess,” Deadpool patted Regulus’ cheek, sitting down across from him. “You woke up on the wrong side of the… spiderweb? I don’t know where you sleep.”
“I assume you’re here for Venom?” Regulus yawned.
“The one and only! Unless he, like, breaks himself up into little balls of goop.”
“Heh, little balls of goop.”
“Shh.” Deadpool shushed him, putting his finger on his mouth and mispredicting where Regulus’ mouth was, ending up closer to his ear.
“Can-can I have one of your katanas?”
“Um, yeah!” He reached behind him and handed Regulus a katana. Bad choice.
Regulus whacked him over the head with the flat side of it.
“Ow!” He rubbed the back of his head, his other hand snatching the katana back.
“Don’t tell me to shush then.”
Just as Deadpool went to smack him back, Regulus pounced on him, hitting Deadpool twice as hard.
“Ow!”
“Shut up, you have healing pow- don’t hit me back!”
“Stop!”
“No, you stop!”
“No, you stop!”
“You’re a world-class jerk!”
“You’re a world-class… jerk -ier- ow! Stop hitting me!”
“Well I-”
They stopped turning around to see an old lady shaking her head and tutting at them. She was holding a book titled “HOW TO DEAL WITH AN EPIDEMIC OF TROUBLED YOUTH”, a backwards cap, electric blue fake lashes and wired earphones.
“Oh my god Bessie, leave the kids alone.” Another old lady sitting next to her reprimanded. She was reading bestseller novel (one of Regulus’ accepted books as well, just to add) ‘My Year of Rest and Relaxation’, wearing an Ayesha Erotica shirt and pink rhinestone sunglasses.
Regulus and Deadpool turned around to look at each other before realising the position they were in.
Regulus quickly got off him, clearing his throat as Deadpool readjusted himself, slumping down in his seat.
“Uh,” Regulus started, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “This is our stop anyways, so… bye ma’am…-s” he grabbed Deadpool’s arm and dragged him off the tube quickly.
“I-dude!” He spluttered, stumbling off. “W- is this actually our stop?”
“Nope, you want a piggyback?”
“Sure!” He hopped on Regulus’ back without warning as he webbed them over to where they were meant to be.
“AYY HOMEBOY ARACHNI-BOY PULLIN’ THROUGH!” He yelled as they flew overhead a handful of people who looked up.
Regulus waved down at the people staring up at them, smacking Deadpool’s hand, which he knew was going to make a circle with one hand and shove his finger violently through it.
“You know what people are going to think about this specific position?” He asked, directly into Regulus’ ear.
“I dunno, Deadpool, what?”
“Oh, then we’re on very different sides of the Internet.”