━━━━ · 。ﾟ☆ .☽ .* ☆ﾟ. ━━━━

( def stole ao3's layout bc i love it sm )

rating: general audiences
fandom: marvel cinematic universe
relationship: theo standen/peter parker
characters: theo standen, peter parker
warnings: no warnings apply
additional tags: theo landed a netflix special how the hell did that happen, using your own experience for as a premise for your comedy, unlike some people
stats ━━ published: 11/29/23 — word count: 1218 — parts: 1/1

━━━━ · 。ﾟ☆ .☽ .* ☆ﾟ. ━━━━

summary:
the one where theo has his own standup special

notes: i gave theo a standup special instead of focusing on until dawn that one time. enjoy !

ANNOUNCER: please put your hands together for Theo Standen!

Theo walked out onto the stage, hearing the crowd cheering in his ears. It was still a strange sensation, hearing people cheer for him even if he had kicked ass in space and a lost a good five years of his life in five seconds but here he was, standing on the same stage where Rogers: The Musical took place and having Peter standing in the wings, knowing exactly the kind of shit Theo was about to put the audience through.

"Oh, wow," Theo started, in awe, "I'm actually still surprised people came to see me even after they saw 'Reformed Assassin' on the poster and still bought a ticket. They were probably all like, 'Well, he's reformed now so I guess he got his redemption arc' like I'm some sort of groveling, vitamin-deficient abusive boyfriend who drinks to numb his pain and gets tattoos while inebriated. And side note, don't get a tattoo while you're drunk. I don't have tattoos but I do have ads lined up and I'm not trying to sit in a makeup chair for, like, three fuckin' hours."

The crowd laughed and Theo continued. "Speaking of reformation, I'm in therapy. Anyone else in therapy?" There were a few whoops and hollers from the audience, some waving hands. "Awesome. Also, my being in therapy is also a sign that I am not your groveling, abusive boyfriend in desperate need of a redemption arc but is never gonna get one because he won't bother to work on himself.

"Lucky for me, I have a boyfriend who does love me despite the fact that I did try to kill him. Twice. See? Reformed assassin. Heh, he rightfully broke up with me the first time even though we weren't even dating. Hell, we were both so emotionally constipated that we were talking in constant circles until one of us eventually broke down. I won't tell who did what but—" Theo cut himself off to whisper, "it was Peter." The crowd laughed, but Theo shook his head. "No, it was actually me. I didn't like any of the shit I was putting him through so I decided to play hooky and guess what? He still likes me!"

*crowd laughter*

"When I was in therapy, they put me on Prozac for depression and Klonopin for my panic attacks. I remember I accidentally took my Prozac with my coffee one time and if I had not been enhanced the way that I am, that would've been a whole shitshow. Now you may be asking yourself, 'Theo, you're enhanced, why is your mind so shitty?' And I answer to you, that I am physically enhanced, meaning that I have an athlete's metabolism and legs for days. My mind? Fair game, you name it. Night terrors? Have 'em. Depression? Nothing keeps me down except for that. The several intrusive thoughts that made me think that I was gonna go bad again? Honest to god, knock me out.

"I'm so glad I never had an emo phase in middle school and as much as my cousin Jamie wants to point out that I looked like Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy at one point, I'm glad it didn't happen because I can find myself, I don't know, regressing whenever I haven't taken my meds in time? But also at the same time, I don't know if I had any decent age to regress to since my entire life was fucked but I did have several 'it's not a phase, mom' playlists on my iPod that I listened to so I'm halfway there."

The audience busted out laughing at that, and Theo stood there, relishing it before going on.

"So I tell my friends I'm depressed and I was hoping for some sort of sympathetic reaction but they were all like, 'That makes sense, that checks out. You made your way into our friend group, we're all fuckups here' like it's Wonderland and I'm Alice. Mind you, I left out the 'I-tried-to-kill-my-boyfriend' part so I'm trying to figure out what part of me threw me under the bus.

*crowd laughter*

"And then Peter, the one person I love more in this world than my cat, tells me that my mental illness was like my middle name: he didn't know what it was—which was bullshit because he knew what it was—but he knew I had one*. And surprisingly, his spider senses weren't going off. It was just a blaring alarm in the back of his head that went, 'YOUR BOYFRIEND'S WEIRD. PLEASE GET HIM HELP.' And he did, but I'm still inherently fucked. See, this is why you don't depend on other people to fix you. They can try and fix you, they can get you all the help in the world, but if you don't take it upon yourself to accept that help, you will probably end up on the floor of your room at a La Quinta Inn with a suicide hotline on speakerphone. No, I don't have evidence because I asked them to shred the bill."

*crowd whoops, hollers*

"I don't have an identity. And not in some sort of 'Eat, Pray, Love', soul-searching bullshit that some girls do while doing mushrooms in a VIP tent at Coachella, you know? I literally don't have an identity. All of my files have been locked away in some burnt-down cabin in the woods that are currently in transit so I have to take the A-train like a loser. But then again, it's New York and the traffic is shit. I've made the government my bitch so they pay for my therapy, even if it had been court ordered. They also owe me several dollars in emotional and psychological damages that had been put upon me at the tender age of sixteen. I was still going through puberty, dude. Even now, my voice still cracks a bit like I'm waiting for the other ball to drop. Which is funny considering that I was technically a textbook criminal and probably would've been put on a no-fly list, but because I was literally neurodivergent and a minor, it all cancelled out like PEMDAS."

*crowd laughs, whoops*

"I don't have a dad, which is such a funny segue way for me to use after talking about being a pardoned war criminal like I'm a turkey on the White House lawn on Thanksgiving—which actually isn't about giving or being thankful but we don't have time to unpack all of that. But, yeah. I don't have a dad. Turns out that my mom's been a single mom my whole life so I don't even think my dad knows he's my dad. At best, he'd be named 'sperm donor' in my contacts or 'Papa?' with a question mark on the end like I'm El from Stranger Things with raging daddy issues. Or, worst case scenario, it's that one episode of Fairly Odd Parents titled 'Who's Your Daddy?' Right? I'm on a game show and I have to choose between James Marsden and Matthew Settle. They're both great dudes but neither of them seem willing to give up their child to get brainwashed at a camp in the woods."

*crowd laughs*

"Thank you so much guys, you were incredible!"

*crowd applauses, laughs, whoops*