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tickle-bugs · 3 years

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I had two people ask for some advice on starting up/running a blog, so I thought I’d make a little post for anyone else looking for advice! There’s no one right way to run a blog and I am by no means an expert. This is just a compilation of some of the things I’ve learned :)

Feel free to add advice to this!

- The first thing is something I cannot stress enough. Write for yourself first. You will be absolutely miserable if you’re only writing for attention. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s so incredibly important. If you don’t like a prompt, fandom, or scenario? You don’t have to write for it! A personal example: I’m a theatre kid and total musical nerd. I could probably write some compelling Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton headcanons if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s fine! I’m allowed to say I won’t write for it and deny prompts/requests for those fandoms.

- Set boundaries. This is a very mixed community with all sorts of creators and participants with hands in different baskets. Don’t want minors to interact? Put minors DNI in your bio. SFW only? Put it in the bio. No RP? Bio. This goes for private conversations/askbox/other interactions as well. If someone comes into your askbox/dms and says something that makes you uncomfy, shut it down.

- My advice is more geared towards writing than art or video, but I suppose you could apply this advice as well. Make what makes you happy! If you’re only in one fandom, feel free to stay there and make content for it. Multi-fandom? Excellent! Completely non-fandom? Epic! Make the content that you want to see and the content that makes you happy to create, especially if you’re in a more niche fandom/area.

- Organization. ...I’ll admit this one is more of a personal pet peeve than something urgent, but it is something that people positively respond to. If you have some sort of consistency/organization to your blog, it’ll make it easier and more enjoyable for people to navigate. Make a fandom list/indicate your fandoms somehow (mostly for prompt purposes. people can’t read your mind, so it’s important to tell them what you will write for and what you won’t, however you want to do that)!

Make a masterpost/link your fic tag! Use a fic tag of some kind. Give your fics summaries and leave a little bit of the fic above the ‘read more’ to intrigue folks (look at #my fics and my masterpost for basic examples of how I do this, if you need!). Use read mores. Please use read mores (if you can, idk if they’re on mobile. regardless no one wants to encounter a three thousand word block of text on their dash). (No seriously though, organize your blog, even if it’s super simple. literally just a ‘mine’ or ‘my fics’ or ‘[pseud] writes’ and a fandom tag. It’ll make it easier for people to find your stuff and support you)

- Practice general internetiquette. Please remember that the people in this community are real people with feelings, boundaries, and lives outside of the blog that they run. Be genuine and people will respond to you! Don’t manipulate people into likes/reblogs/attention. No one wants to be on the other end of that. Being in this community isn’t a transaction or a mosh pit, it’s an experience.

- Be ever-so-liberal with the block button. Someone’s user makes you uncomfortable? They give you bad vibes? They’re a minor/older than you and you don’t want them interacting with your content? You don’t wanna see their blog for some reason? Block em. This goes for anons too. That’s what the button is for. Don’t feel guilty for using it. Use it.

- How you write is 100% a personal choice and not really something that I can give advice on, but embrace your style! take prompts if you want, or don’t. Write oneshots, series, drabbles, or novels. Write romantic, or don’t. Etc. Change things up if you feel like it. Do what you want. Your blog, your style, your rules.

- Numbers matter. Don’t let them define you. This is a bit of a harder one to explain, but I will try. I often say that I don’t care about numbers, and I really don’t, but that’s not to say that I don’t see them and they have zero effect on me. I absolutely notice and am bummed if a fic doesn’t get notes, or at least the notes that I was expecting. That is entirely normal and okay to experience. What isn’t okay, though, is creating for the sake of getting notes/numbers/attention (re: write for yourself first, internetiquette). If you find yourself relying on tumblr for gratification and a reward, I implore you to take a break. I’m not your therapist or your parent, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but when you make things only for the sake of notes, people notice. Celebrate your milestones. Know that it’s okay to be bummed about low notes/celebrate getting plenty. Just make sure that you don’t depend on the numbers for your happiness, or you will be miserable.

- You’re (probably) doing this for free. You are providing people content: a service. Produce as much or as little as you’re comfy with, but always remember that. No one is entitled to what you make. If someone asks you for headcanons, sends a prompt when prompts are closed, etc, and you don’t feel like fulfilling it? You have no obligation to do that. Getting commissioned is another story entirely, but as long as you’re making free content, you have zero obligation to do anything for anyone and certainly no time constraints. It can take me months to finish prompts, and that’s okay. I do them when I do them and I fill them how I want to. If my prompts are closed, I deny new ones until I’m ready to accept them. Make yourself happy first.

- How you interact with others is up to you! It’s generally considered good practice to like/reblog your mutuals fics/art, but this is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. I veeeeeery rarely reblog fics for fandoms that I’m not in, even from my mutuals. What you can do to show your support (and you should try and show support somehow. No one is in competition. Everyone’s in your boat, whether they have no followers or 1k) is send an ask/reply to the post/leave tags to let the author know you liked it. Like the fic and don’t reblog it, if you don’t want to. Just make sure you show your mutuals (and others in general!) roughly the same support they show you, however you decide to do that. Treat others how you want to be treated, as cheesy as it sounds :)

- Don’t repost content that isn’t yours without express permission from the original creator, and credit them appropriately. If you see a cute piece of tickle art and the artist doesn’t want it reposted? Don’t repost it. Don’t post fics/videos/gifs that aren’t yours (obviously if it’s like a scene from a movie/a clip on youtube that’s different, but don’t take credit for things you didn’t make, including ideas). Can’t tell you how frustrating it is to have work stolen from you. Don’t be that person. ‘Credit to original artist’ and ‘credit unknown’ is total bullshit btw. Link/tag the creator in the original post and make it clear you don’t own the content. Best practice is to ask the original creator if they’re okay with reposting, work inspired by or connected to theirs, etc. This goes doubly for saving/downloading someone’s fics.

- It is not illegal for a minor to have normal, nonsexual, healthy friendships with people older than them. There’s a weird attitude that minors have nothing of value to offer adults besides a relationship/sex, which is...not true? Minors are thinking, living human beings with feelings, thoughts, and opinions. You can talk to them like normal people, because they are. Just obviously don’t talk about/introduce sex or endanger them. Minors don’t bring up sex/activities you’re underage for with an adult. IDK this isn’t a seminar just...don’t be weird. Adults can offer great life experience, support systems, and the basic joys and needs of human connection. Minors can too. Mind your business unless someone’s actually in danger. The next point is a caveat, though:

- If you’re a minor, don’t interact with NSFW blogs/blogs with ‘Minors DNI’, NSFW blogs don’t interact with minors, etc etc. Not your parent or whatever but this is pretty common sense and it’s for everyone’s safety, but especially the NSFW person. internettiquette!

- If you use your TK blog as a side blog (meaning you have another blog as your main blog, not two separate accounts) and don’t want your main exposed, that is up to you. I recommend not liking posts. Also, follow people that you trust. These actions route through your main blog and your main will show up in the notes. You can reblog from a sideblog. If you want to send an ask “as your tk blog”, send an anon and sign it somehow, like ‘hey :) // @/tickle-bugs’. It should tag you in the post so you get a notification when it’s answered!

- Find your people! As an anxious person this one has been hard for me, so I know it’s hard for a lot of people. Fandom is literally a community of shared interest. Peachy and I have an iron bond almost two years later and we met talking over shared interests. You can absolutely find your people here. If someone makes you happy, strike up a conversation! Send an ask! You never know what doors it might open or whose day you might improve :)

- If you were an anon/lurker on someone’s blog and they inspired you to write/submit/start your own, sign your messages!! the common form that I see is either an emoji or [noun/context of the ask]!anon (prodigal!anon (i miss u every day), butterfly!anon, etc.) Let us know how to find and support you!! Those messages produce good brain juice.

- The big finale: Have fun. If you’re not having fun here, maybe you could tweak something to make things enjoyable. Running a blog is like driving a car. Keep your hands on the wheel, respectfully indicate your intentions (flashing lights optional), and be safe. Poebody’s nerfect, y’know. If you make a mistake, course correct. I’m by no means perfect. Your favs aren’t either. Just do your best and have a good time :)

@rosytickles and the anon in my inbox, I hope this helps! Thank you for asking me, I’m very honored that you value my opinon/experience/advice. I apologize if I come off as preachy or aggressive, I envisioned grabbing my younger self by the lapels and shaking me vigorously while I wrote this. Probably a bad idea.

Anywho, hope it helps. Anyone with questions, additions, or comments, my askbox is open! Just be constructive, is all I ask.

#bug speaks #advice tag #sorry again if this sounds preachy or aggressive at any point i literally wrote it like i was grabbing younger me by the lapels #these are all things i learned through experience/observation i promise im not talking out of my ass here #the largest obstacle to maintaining a blog is how you view your happiness in relation to it. talked about it above but yeah.#also like i said: not a professional and not your parent. just giving friendly advice sine i was directly asked for it.#might add more to this if I think of more #my askbox and dms are open for questions/comments/additions just pls be respectful and constructive #other tfb community members feel free to add to this!

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irondad-defensesquad · 4 years

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Familiar

Fandom: MCU

Rating: T

Relationships: Tony & Peter, Tony & Jarvis

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Edwin Jarvis (flashbacks), Pepper Potts (minor role); other characters are only mentioned

Summary: When Tony comforts Peter, his brain suddenly clicks, as if it’s remembering something that’s been lost inside him for years. Or, Tony realizes how much his relationship with Peter reminds him of Jarvis.

(AU where Thanos is defeated only a few months after Infinity War and nobody dies - except for the purple prick, of course. Tony and Pepper get married and expect Morgan. May didn’t dust and neither has everyone in Peter’s class, only a few people.)

Word count: around 6,529

Also on AO3! (separated in two chapters)

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A/N: Heya! This MCU sideblog is kinda new, so I posted the full work here, too. I hope you guys enjoy it!

WARNINGS - mentioned child abuse, alcoholism and character death.

Tony knows something is up with the kid.

Having known Peter for a couple of years now, the teenager is prone to bottling things up. It started off with wounds, which were easily detected by his suit. Following that, Tony would find out he had the same coping mechanism when it came to things that deeply, mentally affected him; and that is harder when you’re unable to get reports on someone’s emotional well-being.

Peter hasn’t been out as Spider-Man as often. Tony has somewhat expected it after bringing the kid and everyone back, but it doesn’t help that the kid rarely answers his calls now. When he does, Peter comes with excuses not to come visit him, arguing he has his own life to get through, which Tony understands at first, but then Peter straight up ignores him, and the man becomes skeptical and worried. He even goes to the point of calling May, who only tells him that her nephew has grown a bit distant overall.

It takes two or three months for Peter to come visit at all, and it’s pretty much thanks to his aunt, who finally convinced him to sleep over there since she would have to work on helping the people affected by the Snap. Happy picks him up, almost bringing Tony to the good old days when Peter used to come by the compound… he can’t help the reminiscent feeling.

Pepper snaps him out of it with her sweet, concerned voice. Her hand is carefully placed on his knee, caressing it with the most gentleness.

“He’s coming now, Tony,” She reassures him, as if reading him like he’s an open book. “You don’t have to be worried.”

Tony sighs. “I couldn’t even get him to come here by himself, Pep… what can I do?”

“You have to be patient with him, honey. Peter has been through a lot… he’ll tell you once you make it clear that it’s okay.”

He doesn’t reply then, as she gives him a supportive smile. Tony tries to believe that’s how it’s going to work out, so he returns the gesture and holds her hand. His eyes gaze at Pepper with adoration and sheer joy of expecting their child.

(He won’t admit out loud that there’s fear somewhere inside him, too, despite having literally dreamed about it and becoming so enthusiastic after. Not only was his father the worst role model, there was… also the guilt of Peter dying in his arms, as Tony couldn’t do anything. Nightmares would still haunt him to no end.)

It takes Tony another moment to return to reality when Happy arrives with Peter. The head of security has a rather uneasy and concerned expression on his face, silently telling Tony that the kid is acting off. The older man doesn’t have to take another minute to confirm it as Peter barely looks at him and Pepper in the eye when they greet the teenager.

Being the great people he could’ve asked for, Pepper and Happy make up the excuse they needed to get something heavy inside the house. They disappear quickly before Peter can protest. It’s probably the first time they’re alone in such a long time.

“So, uh, wanna get inside?” Tony proposes. “Or do you want to sit out here for a bit?” He presents the chairs standing in the porch.

Peter simply shrugs and sits in one of them, refusing to look at the man as the stubborn boy that he is.

“How have you been, kiddo? Has school been tough?” He asks nonchalantly, only to get no response.

Tony really wants to be patient with him like Pepper suggested, but he’s had it. The kid hasn’t talked to him properly in freaking months, has only ignored him. It’s obvious that something is wrong, and all Tony did was give it time. He’s given enough time, more than enough.

“Kid,” The man stands on his knees in front of him. “Pete?”

Peter turns his head away, only the dead silence replies.

“Peter, you’ve been away for months now and you’re not going to tell me anything?” Tony insists.

“No.” The kid’s voice is the quietest he’s heard, beating it to when Peter said I’m sorry before he faded away with the wind.

“And why is that?”

Nothing. Tony sighs, almost groans.

“I know there’s something wrong, Peter. You don’t have to hide it from me. You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts all over. Your aunt noticed you’ve been quiet, too,” Tony explains. Having no reply, his voice lowers, “Jesus, kid, I’m- I’m really worried about you. Why won’t you talk to me?”

The question makes Peter shift to anxious and guilty, yet it doesn’t convince him to talk. No, it makes the kid more stressed, as his hands are visibly shaking.

“You know you can trust me, right? I… Kid, I care about you, so much. You’re so important to me.” Tony almost feels hurt that Peter seems to not believe it. Has he not made it clear before?

The man reaches the boy’s hand, grabs it gently. “Pete. Please look at me.” At Tony’s pleading tone, Peter hesitantly raises his head, revealing unshed, repressed tears. “You can tell me anything – anything that’s hurting you. I won’t think any less of you.”

Tony doesn’t take the eyes off the kid, who’s unable to contain the following sniffs that escape. The older absolutely hates seeing Peter in this state, but it’s worse when he thinks just for how long he’s been bottling it up.

“I-I don’t- I c-can’t fit in, Mister Stark,” Peter whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t fit in! I-It’s only been months and- and everything feels so different, Mister Stark! I don’t- I don’t know how to explain and it’s frustrating, like—” Peter sobs. “E-Everyone is just acting like n-nothing happened. And I’m here, still remembering every single detail. Still feeling myself disappear. I can feel everything, and I c-can’t forget.”

Tony’s heart breaks. “Peter…” He holds his hand tighter.

“May’s found someone, my classmates aren’t always there… Ned and MJ were dusted, too, but they have their own lives, too. A-And you, you got married… you’re gonna have a kid…” Peter’s eyes are fully red, tears falling nonstop. “Everyone is moving on but I’m still here… fearing I’m gonna disappear again.”

He takes a while to reply. Tony blinks his own tears again, as his hand reaches Peter’s cheek.

“Oh, Pete…”

“I just- I get it, y’know. I’ve never been a normal kid. Now it’s pretty much worse and I’m trying to accept that, too. That I’ll never fit in. I want everyone to be happy. I w-want…” Peter sniffs. “I want you to be happy, too. You have your own family. Y-You don’t have to babysit me anymore.”

“No, Peter—”

“It’s okay, Mister Stark. I-I’ve always been different- I’ve always been a freak—”

“For fuck’s sake, kid, that’s not true,” Tony snaps for once, immediately toning down as he feels Peter flinching. His own dark eyes are burning now. “You’re not a freak, you’re- you’re my family, too.”

He places both hands on Peter’s shoulders firmly and doesn’t look away, ever.

“Peter, you’ll always fit in my life. And in May’s life, and your friends’. I want you to be here. You’re my kid, you’ve- you’ve always been my kid, and nothing will ever change that, okay? Nothing.”

“But—”

“I mean it, Pete. Do you have any idea how much I missed you? Do you know how fucking horrifying it was to watch you die in my arms? It was hell without you, all those months…” Tony’s own tears start falling. “It was killing me, Peter. May couldn’t handle it, either.”

The teen grows quiet again. Tony starts drying some of his tears with one of his hands.

“You don’t… you don’t get it, everyone’s just acting like things are fine and I just c-can’t forget what happened.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel okay. You’ve been through so much, Pete… everyone copes differently, you’re not forced to act like everyone else does. You shouldn’t bottle it up.”

There’s silence between them for a couple of minutes before Peter hesitantly speaks up again.

“B-But what if… what if everyone gives up on me?” He wonders, absolutely frightened, despite his whispering tone. Just those words manage to destroy Tony inside more.

“That’s never going to happen, not in a million years. We love you, kid. I love you so much you have no idea.”

Peter only cries more, and Tony finally hugs him. The teen sobs in his shoulder, breaks down hard as the man holds him, putting one of his hands in the kid’s brown curls while the other soothes his back. Tony can’t help letting out shaky breaths in the meantime, but he’s still firm in his grip, grounding the kid, reminding him of the unconditional love he has for him.

Knowing Peter, the teenager will need the reassurances over and over again, and Tony is going to do that every single day if necessary.

When the boy’s sobs start quieting down, the man plants a kiss against his cheek and squeezes him, unable to contain his tears. Tony pulls him away only slightly, still holding him by his arms and keeping him close.

“We’ll get through this, okay? I’m never giving up on you, kid,” He reassures, sighing deeply while Peter is able to breathe slowly. “I will always stand by your side.”

Peter, teary-eyed, looks at him with certain doubt. “Always?”

“Always.”

The teen jumps in his arms again, only for… for something to catch Tony off guard. There’s something like… like a click. In Tony’s mind, that is.

He freezes for a moment, but he cannot refuse to comfort Peter again. The mechanic mumbles soothing nonsense, only for him to become silent as his attention shifts… to somewhere else.

This moment, he realizes… it feels like a deja vú. Except it’s not actually a deja vú. If that makes sense.

It doesn’t help that Peter notices when they finally face one another – or at least when the kid looks at him, since Tony is facing the nature around them, not quite focusing on the trees themselves.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks, taking him out of the trance.

“Wh- of course, kiddo. You shouldn’t worry about me.”

He doesn’t look convinced. Tony almost feels hypocritical now, not wanting to worry the kid with some weird impression he has. But how can he explain when it doesn’t even make sense to himself?

Before Peter can question him again, Pepper and Happy are back there. The latter tells them he should get back to the city and the former offers them to come inside and get themselves something to eat. Peter finally looks a little excited, maybe because he might be hungry, so he no longer focuses on Tony, or so he hopes. The kid isn’t stupid.

Pepper and Peter get to the kitchen first, especially as the teen offers to help her. Tony doesn’t follow them immediately, facing the wooden walls of the house. Words fly around and replay in his brain, somehow in different voices other than Peter’s and Tony’s.

It’s almost like Tony has actually heard them. Somewhere, a long time ago…

It might be a lost memory. It sounds so familiar. Why is it?

He doesn’t think about it now as Pepper calls for him. Tony shakes his head and is able to put on a mask for the meantime.

(Yet not for a moment does he try to stop struggling to remember.)

It comes to him at night. If anything, it’s nothing more than a mere glimpse.

Everything is mostly blurry. He can recognize old colors, that remind him of a distant past. Of a familiar face. One so important and meaningful that has craved a place in his heart. He can’t put his finger on it, however.

He hears silent crying. Feels warmth wrapping around his body. Arms that feel like… like home.

I will always stand by your side. The voice says, in a memorable accent.

A-Always? It’s a tiny, young one that asks.

Always, Tony.

Tony wakes up with actual tears in his eyes. He’s not scared, but… it’s something strong regardless.

It was an actual memory. If it weren’t, he wouldn’t have gotten so shaken.

He… He wants to understand. He wants to remember.

As a result, he doesn’t fall asleep again. No, he ends up going downstairs. Tony doesn’t think too straight, so next thing he knows, he’s somehow inside the garage. To find answers.

B.A.R.F was created to recount traumatic experiences, change them, give him some comfort. It was his own therapy method for quite some time after he’d developed it. Tony hasn’t used it in a long time, though, but he still remembered to implement it in his E.D.I.T.H glasses (… which might have its name changed now that the big battle is over).

Today, he doesn’t mean to use it to change something in his past. This time, he wants… he wants to activate his brain, somehow. He’s still trying to make sense of the flashback he had. More and more words fly here and there, and he knows there’s something meaningful about them, about the memory he’s striving so hard to clear it up. It’s too bad that he can’t rationalize.

He keeps feeling the same pain and warmth from that moment. He remembers his frustration. He knows it’s from his distant past, long before Tony was known as the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist persona. It’s a part of his life that the Stark has forced himself to repress, to the point where it’s still affecting him now.

Now that he has the glasses, parts of the memory are coming to life, right there in his garage. There are the same colors he’s seen. Dark red that reminds him of blood, of violent words and remarks. The sunset outside, a rather beautiful and tear-jerking sight. Frustrated yelling, except Tony can’t understand any of it. In contrast, there’s another calm voice that tries to reason with it.

Tony knows he’s going to feel even more fucked up. Almost nothing about his past leaves him at peace. It always comes back to haunt him with the same questionings about himself. He partly blames the media for getting literally anything from his life and making a huge deal about it, despite having become familiar with being such a recognizable figure.

He doesn’t want it to matter now. He wants to understand what happened. There are memories that may never come to the surface, thanks to the long-term trauma. A mechanism his body has developed all those years, long before the occupational hazard that is to be a hero.

Tony is sure he’s on the verge of breaking down as he tries to force it to come out. No, it’s not working. He shouldn’t do it this way. Shouldn’t yell at his oppressed, younger self that’s never been truly gone. That’s been quiet, in an inner coma, suffering all at same.

He should be… patient. Suddenly, Pepper’s words come to him again.

You have to be patient with him, honey. Peter has been through a lot… he’ll tell you once you make it clear that it’s okay.

He takes comfort in them. He should… give himself time.

It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay. You don’t have to come out now, but you don’t have to be afraid. You’re… You’re safe.

In response, Tony is able to breathe again. He tries not to focus on what B.A.R.F is up to.

You’re safe, he repeats again, and again. He closes his eyes and relaxes, at last.

He… lets it flow.

(Distantly, it kind of reminds him of that movie with the cartoon panda achieving inner peace. He must have seen it with Peter one time. It feels like decades ago.)

In. Out.

In. Out…

When he opens his eyes, he’s no longer in the garage.

Rather than the cozy wood, it’s a wide room with dark red walls. Tony recognizes it to be the living room of the Stark mansion. He’s been so used to the lake house that he forgot just how big (and empty) everything was. Sunshine rays enter the residence, it’s a rather beautiful day.

In contrast, there’s the yelling again. Fighting. The bright blue pixel figures slowly come to surface. One he acknowledges to be himself. Young Tony seems to be at least 15, as he’s already wearing one of his old MIT hoodies. The other person turns out to be Jarvis, who still has his fancy, black suit.

The two are arguing. A very rare occasion to happen. They never got into a bad argument, not like Tony and Howard constantly did. Though, if anything, Tony is the one yelling. Jarvis calmly tries to get to him, which makes the teenager behave worse.

“You don’t GET IT, Jarvis!” The boy screams. “I don’t fit in anywhere! Not in MIT and certainly not in my own home! My parents send me away whenever they have the fucking chance!”

“Master, they only… they only mean to do the best—”

“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND THEM! You hear them say that yourself! They don’t want me around, n-nobody wants me around.” Tony’s voice is angry, furious, yet it’s dangerously close to break in tears that threaten to fall. When he was young and more emotionally unstable, he’s not yet learned to keep on a mask. That would happen after MIT. “Nobody gets it, Jarvis. I’m… I’m never going to be normal. I’m a Stark. I’m supposed to be great, but I’m… not.”

Present Tony feels the words stinging in his heart. The look on Jarvis’ face only makes it harder to watch, to listen. He doesn’t repress it again, though. It’s too late to go back.

“Mom and Dad gave up on me when I was fucking six, Jarvis,” Young Tony hisses, words poisoned with disgust. “They barely let me get home now. And when I am here, they never want to see me. They’re ashamed of me.”

The boy’s eyes only grow deeper as he continues, “I w-want to believe you, Jarvis… I want to believe Mom, that she and Dad… that they love me, but it’s- I’m not that fucking stupid, okay? No matter how hard I try to be better, I’ll never be good enough. No matter how many stupid robots and engines I build, that’s never going to change.”

(Present Tony feels it. The shame. The disappointment in himself. It was never truly gone, was it?)

“I don’t… I don’t blame people for feeling ashamed of me. For thinking so little of me.” The teenager’s voice breaks in sobs. “I-I know I’m a fucking freak. Okay? I get it. I’ll never be normal. And… you know what? You don’t- you don’t have to keep babysitting me anymore, Jarvis, you can- you can just leave me, too. Y-You have your family to get back, you should be with them. I’m not worth it.”

Jarvis is silent. He’s completely torn, heartbroken.

(Tony almost wishes he could never remember the look on the man’s face.)

“Maybe Howard was right,” Young Tony says bitterly. “I’ll never be someone anyone can be proud of.”

The teenager weeps and falls to his knees. Present Tony only stands there, unable to see the look on Jarvis’ face as he stares at his younger self. Tears creep in his own eyes, the speech getting through his heart, ripping it to a million pieces again.

(He hates that he still feels like Young Tony to this day. Feeling useless at the battle against Thanos. Helpless as he watched Peter die. Failing to save half of the universe. Watching the world still falling apart, despite everyone getting back. Expecting his child, Morgan, to arrive and fearing he’ll fuck her up, too.)

Present Tony doesn’t say a thing. The silence that follows in the scene almost drowns, suffocates him.

It’s a long time before he hears slow footsteps coming to him. His teenage self, that is. It’s then that Jarvis wraps his arms around the young boy. The Present Stark can feel its affection from there.

(He faintly feels what teenage Tony must be feeling right now. Having always wondering how a hug from Jarvis felt like. It’s something he never admitted to himself until maybe that moment and right now, years later. Tony can even smell the butler’s cologne and it’s so much like home.)

Young Tony freezes; stiffens his body while Jarvis welcomes him in his embrace. The butler places a hand behind his head, touches his dark hair so caringly that Tony finally gives in – he downright melts.

“I’m… I’m very sorry. For making you believe all of this.” Jarvis sighs. “I will not defend them – and not him ever again, because he is wrong. For a so-called genius, he knows nothing about you. I have not known a boy as intelligent and as good-hearted as yourself.”

The younger makes no noises nor moves while the older continues, “You have already changed the world… and you will make it much better, because you are going to be greater than he could ever be.”

“Jarvis…” He whispers. “I…”

Present Tony can tell he wants to say I love you. But he doesn’t. He’s too shocked, too broken to say it; but Jarvis seems to hear it anyway. The butler soothes him as he leans his chin against the top of Tony’s head.

“I am very proud of you.” The man speaks, with the most sincerity he’s heard. It might be the most genuine and positive thing anyone told the fifteen-year-old in more than a decade.

Jarvis gently pulls him away, faces still close and he gazes at him with unconditional love.

“I will always stand by your side.”

“A-Always?”

He doesn’t hesitate. God, Jarvis smiles fondly at the hurt boy. “Always, Tony.”

It’s the first time Jarvis calls him that. He’s not Master Tony. From the sound of it, he has never been just Master Tony to the man. He’s always… been family. Just like that, the teenager sobs even harder, only to be protected by Jarvis’ arms again. The crying echoes in the living room, and so the sun illuminates them both.

“M-Mister Stark?”

Tony doesn’t startle up, even though he was entirely integrated. He partly turns around, finding Peter, his curly hair the biggest mess he’s seen. Were it not for the situation the teen finds him, Tony would have squished the kid for how freaking adorable he is.

“I-I’m sorry, I uh- I heard you wake up and you- you just rushed out here and I got w-worried, so I followed you and… I kinda saw some of that. Sorry,” Peter rambles. “Are you okay, though?”

Despite the tear that rolls down Tony’s face, the man nods. “I’m fine, Pete. Sorry for scaring ya… there was something that wouldn’t leave me be. Not the first time that happens,” He shrugs, which doesn’t really soothe Peter. Tony then admits, “But it was… different this time.”

The boy’s puppy eyes shyly glance at the projection of B.A.R.F, which hasn’t faded away. It’s paused like a Youtube video, so it has stopped by Tony having a full crying attack while Jarvis holds him.

“Who’s… W-Who’s Jarvis?” Peter asks.

Tony is almost shocked to realize that he’s… he’s never talked about the butler before. Well, he never opened up much about his past, but the kid is already aware that Howard wasn’t the best father in the world. The billionaire would have, maybe, if he had the A.I., but much like its inspirational muse, it was… gone, for good. Remembering what happened to Vision makes Tony’s heart drop more.

“He was… like a father to me. When my old man couldn’t be.” He swallows a lump in his throat. Tony ends up gazing at the projection of his own father figure. His real one. “You know I wasn’t in a good place before… but Jarvis was always there to take care of me. He never stopped, not for once, until he passed away.”

From the corner of his eye, Peter nods in silence. Tony doesn’t mind that he hasn’t stopped crying quietly himself. He just lets it all go. As he gazes at the image in front of them, guilt fills Tony’s heart. Certain… fear of letting people down. It’s a feeling he honestly only felt when he was a kid. Maybe, it’s there whenever he remembers Yinsen, whose advice Tony never once forgot. But now that he truly remembers this argument with Jarvis, it makes him feel worse. Makes him feel like he’s been… ungrateful to his father figure – forgetting him.

Part of Tony remarks that he couldn’t remember this, it is his coping mechanism, whether he likes it or not. Still… he can’t help feeling terrible about it. He hates that he ever developed that method.

“What’s wrong?” Peter isn’t dumb to ignore the look on his face. This kid… he’s too good.

Tony sighs in fondness, looking at Peter briefly with a sad smile before resuming to Jarvis. How sweet of a man the butler was… to the freaking mess that younger Tony was.

“Just feeling nostalgic is all.”

It’s true; B.A.R.F reacts to what his brain is currently thinking. The scenario changes to what was Tony’s bedroom, as huge as the rest of the mansion was. An even younger Tony Stark, probably seven or eight, fixing a little electronic car toy that he built. Jarvis is standing next to him, watching with clear interest.

“Look, Jarvis! I think I got it!” Little Tony claims, very proud of himself.

“I knew you could repair it, Master Tony.” Jarvis smiles. “Let’s put it in action, shall we?”

Following that, they test the car, that runs at full speed while the child controls it. Tony is having the time of his life and the other is satisfied.

“Look at it go,” Jarvis says in his same tone, not taking the smile off his face.

Another memory replaces it. Little Tony hesitantly enters a room, crying and hugging himself. There are plenty of bruises in his arms, from what they can gather from the rare lighting from the night outside.

“J-Jarvis?” He calls, vulnerable.

The butler wastes no time to get there.

“H-H-He got m-mad that I w-was- was p-playing with the…” Tony tries to explain it but is interrupted.

“Shhh… you don’t need to explain it.” The man carefully holds his hands. “I will take care of this, alright?”

Tony nods. “I-I don’t like it when he drinks… h-he gets really worse.”

Jarvis sighs. “Neither do I. But you are safe now. Once I get you cleaned up, I could tell you a story. What do you think?”

“I like stories. C-Could I… have some some chocolate milk, too?”

“Of course.”

There are others to come. Jarvis greeting a younger Tony whenever he gets home. Jarvis comforting him after a nightmare. Tony shyly giving him a hand-made Happy Butler’s Day card one time when he found out that day existed, since he… he never had the courage to do the same when it was Father’s Day. Not even when it was just Jarvis and Tony after Howard and Maria died.

The unpleasant memories of that time are projected by B.A.R.F, too. A nineteen or twenty-year-old Tony Stark coming home drunk with some random lady. Jarvis isn’t looking pleased, but he could never be angry. He’s just worried.

“Ah, beat it, Jarvis,” Tony groans. “Don’t need to baby me anymore. See?” He smirks at the lady that playfully threatens to bite him.

“Sir, this is getting too far.”

“Sheesh, can’t I have some fun? C’mon. You would like that too, old man. Next time, I’m gonna bring you a lil’ friend.”

Jarvis can only sigh. Tony scoffs, “Alright, whatever, we’re going to bed. See ya.”

“Let me assist you—”

“Hey- Hey! Leave it, okay?” He almost slaps the other’s hands away. “Ugh, Jarvis. I can handle stuff on my own. Don’t need any diapers. See?” Tony kisses the girl passionately. When he finishes, he says, breathlessly, “I’m a big man now.”

The butler doesn’t protest, if not for a pained look. “Of course.”

The drunk young man stumbles to his room with the girl, leaving Jarvis on his own. The man was old, nearing the end of his life and yet he still insisted to take care of Tony, even if he was nothing more than some stupid piece of shit that always disappeared in parties, coming back with random girls every night he came back.

Current Tony is silent when the last memory comes. He’s at some other event, some party at Stark Industries. Obadiah brought him to meet some of his co-workers and stuff. Tony is having the time of his life when someone rushes to him; one… one of the housekeepers that sometimes helped Jarvis at home.

“Mister Stark,” She tries to get to him.

“Marisa! What’re you doing here? You’ve come to join us?” Tony laughs with the others, but she looks serious.

“Tony, this is no time for partying.” When she calls him Tony, that’s when something is wrong. His face almost falls.

“Shit, you’re scaring me; what happened?”

“It’s… It’s Jarvis, he’s…”

What she says next isn’t heard, as Tony doesn’t remember. The look on the twenty-one-year-old says otherwise. Next, he’s at the hospital. Awaiting with Obadiah by his side, he’s insisted to come.

When the nurse comes out, she has a heartbroken look on her face.

“How is he? Is he okay?” Tony already throws a bunch of questions, even though her expression… it tells him everything. He can’t accept it.

“No. No, c-c’mon. Jarvis is the strongest person I know, he can’t… he can’t just…!”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. The nurse lowers her head. “I’m very sorry. We tried everything we could. I’m sure he tried, too.”

Tony doesn’t cry; he straight up faints. The alcohol must have worsened it. When he awakes, they’re alone at the corridor and he begs Obadiah to assure him that Jarvis is fine. He hopes his butler rushes to see him, so they could go home, watch the genius build something, play a game, do anything.

He couldn’t be more wrong. The now older Stark almost feels disgusted as his younger self craves Obadiah’s comfort, but well. He couldn’t have known.

“He can’t die, Obie,” Projection Tony whispers, only to raise his voice. “H-He can’t die. He can’t leave me, too!”

Finally, the man removes the E.D.I.T.H glasses. The whole hospital ambience disappears and they’re both back at the same old garage. Everything feels so small now. So crushing, all this knowledge.

He almost forgets Peter is there at all. The teen saw everything… all the details. Tony didn’t want to hide anything from him, not anymore. On the other hand, he also regrets it when he sees Peter’s sorrowful gaze. Shit, it’s too much for him.

Tony looks away in shame and regret. “Yeah. Now you get why I don’t talk about that past stuff with anyone,” He jokes darkly. He sighs and tries again. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

Peter looks a minute away from crying with him, but he takes a deep breath and replies, quietly, “It’s okay.”

The mechanic holds the glasses like they’re going to break at one touch. He puts them away where they were, by the desk with everything else he kept there. Tony resumes to the same spot he was, no longer seeing the projections, just his adapted workshop. Everything is very quiet now, not even the crickets outside can be heard.

(It felt like his house after Jarvis was gone. Tony would barely be there, drowning himself in every drink he found at bars.)

“He died before I could say I was sorry.” Tony whispers. “I… I forgot what he told me. That he believed in me. And after my parents died… I just stopped caring, for good. But he didn’t stop caring about me and…” His lips are quivering. “He was gone before I could realize it. Before I could b-be better.”

Peter takes one step. “Tony…”

Tony now stares at his own feet, the tears making it to the wooden floor. He realizes he doesn’t have any socks warming the former. “He… never gave up on me. But he knew I was ruining my life. I… I let him down. Really bad.”

He can hear Peter stopping. He knows the kid is closer, but he doesn’t have the courage to approach. Maybe it’s the right thing to do. Tony feels like the worst person in the world now. God, he’s fucked up so many damn times.

The broken man is silent for dreadful and long minutes, Peter not getting any closer, nor saying a thing, either. Tony’s hands are shaking.

“I just… I wonder if…” His breath trembles. “I-If he could come back and see me one last time… wh- what would he think of me now?”

He doesn’t expect an answer. Or, he might know it. It might not be too pretty.

Tony embraces the dead silence. At least, before he’s embraced by two arms from behind.

“I-I… I think you’re pretty great, Tony,” Peter gulps, clearly crying. “You grew so much, you became a hero. You saved the universe, you… you saved me.”

Tony’s mouth opens but nothing comes out. Especially not when the boy hugging him, desperate to reassure him, continues with a whisper full of intensity, “You changed the world, just like he said. He would be so proud of you, Tony. We all are.”

That’s enough to break the elder. Tony sobs, his own hands reaching Peter’s arms and squeezing them. For once, he turns around and hugs his kid tightly again. They stand there for an eternity, ugly crying, repeating reassuring words.

“I love you. I love you.” Peter repeats, each time with more sincerity than the last.

“God, I love you too, kiddo.”

(He hopes he can feel Jarvis’ presence there, too. Even if that’s technically impossible. Jarvis never left his heart, after all. Tony promises he will stop hiding it. He’ll make sure to tell Morgan about the man, too. He was his hero. He just wishes he could have actually realized it sooner.)

Finally, Tony leaves one last breath before pulling away from the crushing hug. He still holds Peter’s arms affectionately.

“Thanks, Pete. I needed that in this moment of catharsis,” He tries to joke, getting a little smile out of the kid.

“Are you okay now?”

“Never been better.”

Peter nods. Tony wonders what they can do, seeing as it it’s so late in the night. They both have terrible sleeping habits, he’s afraid.

“Let’s get outta here, yeah?” The older suggests. “How about we see a movie? I miss late movie night.” He puts an arm around Peter’s shoulder, guiding them both out of the garage and closing the door behind them with his spare hand. “Remember we used to put on Star Wars for the hundredth time when you couldn’t sleep?”

Peter snorts. “Y-Yeah, that would be cool. Any suggestions? Would be nice to pick something different.”

Tony hums and thinks for a while… then he has it. “I remembered this one… you know that, uh, that panda that learned to gain some inner peace or something? And he did those moves with the water?”

“You mean Kung Fu Panda?”

“Yeah, that’s the one! I suddenly remembered it today. Thought of refreshing my memory.”

“Oh, cool. That’s the second Kung Fu Panda movie, by the way. The best one in the series, to be fair.”

“Of course.” Tony smiles as they reach the house and get to the living room. The lights are dimly on, thanks to his instructions to F.R.I.D.A.Y.

They both stay awake until the movie ends. Doesn’t take long for the two to fall asleep right there and warm themselves up with the blanket Tony grabbed. They snuggle against one another, safe with each other’s company.

He missed this.

When he falls asleep, though, he remembers Jarvis tucking him in to bed one night. Like every other night, Maria is at a business trip and Howard just isolated himself somewhere in the mansion.

“Tell me that story, Jarvis! You promised!!” The enthusiastic, small Tony demands.

“Very well. Once upon a time, a very stubborn little man went to bed… the end.”

Tony groans. “That’s a horrible story!”

Jarvis openly laughs that time. He is usually contained, being affectionate in his own way, and much better than his father, that’s for sure. Still… it’s nice to hear it.

“Do not worry, Master, I have many other ones like that. You will learn to appreciate true art.”

“Noooo, I know you have better ones, Jarvis!”

“Oh no, you have discovered my secret.”

“Tell meeee,” Tony whines.

“Very well. Can’t say no to that face.” Jarvis dramatically sounds defeated, making Tony giggle. He then sounds serious again. “Once upon a time, there was a very smart boy who created amazing inventions. He had a room full of them, but he had to hide; for his intelligence was misjudged by the mean people of the village. His father would not give much support, either; but the boy was fearless.” Tony’s eyes brightened up as the man continued, “He went outside and helped everyone with their problems. Built stronger homes, vehicles, all constructions you could imagine… and one day…”

Jarvis grabs the little metal man Tony built when he was six, which sitting on his bedside table.

“… He discovered how to fly. He created magnificent wings and flew by his village. The people saw him as their hero… and they had hopes. For the little boy, now a grown man, changed their world and would continue to change every other place he went, making the whole world a better place. The end.”

Tony blinks in awe. “Woah…”

“Did you like it? I personally prefer the one of the boy going to bed, though,” Jarvis teases, the boy rolling his eyes as a response.

“I loved it,” Tony answers, clearly flustered.

Jarvis smiled at him for a couple of minutes. Then, he would stand up and say, “Very well. It is time to sleep, Master Tony.”

“Okay.” The boy yawned, feeling the exhaustion coming to him. A gentle hand is placed by his leg. “Good night, Jarvis.”

“Good night. You can call me if you need anything.”

Once Jarvis turned off the lamp, Tony closed his eyes, faintly hearing the butler close the door in the distance.

When Tony opens his eyes again, he’s flying in the blue sky. Flying to the horizon ahead of him. Knowing the people down there are counting on him. They are proud of him. They’re their hero.

Somewhere down there, he knows his family is there rooting for him. Peter, Pepper, his little Morgan, Rhodey… and Jarvis is there, too, smiling with pride.

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