adjective: feeling that you do not belong to a specific group or community.
“I don’t get it,” Loki says. His words are swarmed by the lively, drunk chatter in the room, so they echo a little muffled and underwhelming. Monotonous, he murmurs, “I don’t understand the point of this so-called Thanksgiving.”
Peter looks up from the mashed potatoes he’s shoveling into his mouth. Gravy dribbles from the corner of his lips, and he hastily swipes his napkin over the drip before it can fall into his lap. “What don’t you understand?” Blindly, since his eyes are still on Loki, he reaches across the table for another Hawaiian roll from the bowl a couple feet away. He stuffs one—all at once—into his mouth. “It’s food! What’s not to get?”
Peter helps Loki understand Thanksgiving and being thankful in general.
“Easy, kiddo. Take a breath—”
“How can I take a breath when people die because of me? They’ll never take another breath again, how could I just keep on going, even knowing that my shortcomings hurt people? It’s like you said! If someone dies, it’s on me!”
Peter heaves, fists clenched. Ash flakes from his filthy palms, soot coats the eyes of his suit. Even with the suit giving him new, clean oxygen, his head still pounds from the smog he’d already inhaled. His hands shake, and he’s not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the poisoning from however many toxins are in his lungs, or the anxiety. He thinks he’s on the brink of a meltdown, thinks he’s going to be more than merely useless this battle, thinks he might actually harm the efforts with his incompetence.
If his previous actions hadn’t already ruined everything.
Peter never means to miss class. He really, truly doesn’t. School and grades are important to him. But his responsibilities have been getting to be too much, and the first thing he boots off his to-do list always has to be school. Innocent people rely on Spider-Man, so school is the only thing he can afford to let go of.
And that brings him to now, called into the principal's office due to falling grades and worsening attendance, with his aunt too busy to come and with no one to stand between him and the enraged man behind the desk. He feels small, like a failure, and vulnerable, until an honorary father kicks the office door in.
What if Peter hadn't been snapped away, but May had been?
What would Tony do?
Everything he could.
Peter has been doing ballet on and off his whole life. No one knows. If anything is his passion, it's probably ballet, but he refuses to tell anyone except the people he considers himself closest to.
No secret remains a secret forever, though.
When everyone finds out, Peter is ready to drop ballet for good, but Tony has an over the top solution at the ready, and it just might be crazy enough to work.
08 Jul 2019
Tony takes Peter to dinner after school, and learns something interesting, new, and educational about his kid.
Bookmarked by Cakepopple
09 Jul 2019