#2. big's presence fucking up cash's accounting sheets

[snickerdoodlles]

📖 for kinnporsche the series? your ideas are just so good!

thank u nonny!! 😭❣

this one took me a while to type because it is my weird whacky fic child who i love very dearly but struggle to explain. so, uh.

✨ Necromancy AU ✨

Big dies in the warehouse. Porsche gets Arm to get his body out, gets Kinn to delay the cremation, and gets Chay to reanimate Big.

(because reanimating the dead is just something Chay can do, because he figured it'd be a good skill to learn and he's my most specialest boy.)

Kinn (who's at the morgue for Porsche) is flabbergasted, Khun (who's at the morgue by a miracle) is stunned silent, and Kim (who's here because Khun texted him but didn't say Chay would be here) is more shocked by Big than Chay's abilities.

(Kim is the only person other than Porsche to just accept necromancy as A Reasonable Thing For Chay To Know. this is why they're Chay's favorites.)

anyways so Big is now awake and surrounded by this family. this is hell. not just for him, his sudden undead status is causing a lot of problems:

Porsche just had Chay bring Big back, he didn't like...tell anyone what was happening or make a plan for what to do with him.

Kinn just figured out his new guard roster, and now he has to redo it to accommodate one very grumpy and very loyal Big who now doesn't need trivial things like sleep or food.

there's the looming specter of Khun's upcoming dry cleaning bill because he won't. stop. poking. Big.

Big is trying very, very, very hard to ignore that not only do people know he knew about Porsche and Kinn, but that he loves Kinn so much he died protecting Porsche.

speaking of, Porsche just thanked him for saving Chay and (in a quieter voice) for saving him.

Big is in hell.

despite all that, Big's plans for his new life are to just go back to being Kinn's perfect guard. he is ignoring the awkwardness, none of this is fine, none of this will be fine, but it will be NORMAL.

this is hampered by the fact that whoops, turns out the undead need to hang around their "masters" for at least a few hours every couple of days to "recharge" so to speak, as discovered by Pol when he screamed so loud he set a fire alarm off because he stumbled over Big's body face down in front of Kinn's door at 2am.

this is even further hampered by Korn, who will absolutely not stand for his preferred heir being guarded by someone who might be more loyal to someone other than him. Korn uses the "recharge" issue to force Big out by way of making him Chay's permanent guard.

so now Big, the perfect bodyguard who only got better at his job in death, is now stuck hanging around a high schooler who doesn't get into trouble and just wants to make music with his bitchy boyfriend.

(because oh yeah, mr. the untamed nerd Kim is obviously ridiculously into Chay being able to resurrect the dead and leaks feelings before he can run away and sabotages all future attempts to ghost Chay (insert necromancer joke here). Kim's fears of love and hurting those he loves will cause different problems.)

anyways, Big is suffering. not only is he stuck guarding Porsche's baby brother (who! he's realizing he likes as a person! will the horrors never cease!), Chay keeps being nice and thoughtful and looking out for him as a person and asking after his happiness and shit (the horrors!! are not ceasing!!!!). when Big finally has enough of all this Being Treated Like A Human Being business and asks Chay why he even cares, Chay blurts out "Big, do you even want to be alive?"

because this has been eating at Chay ever since he brought Big back at the morgue. because he never knew Big and never asked if he'd want to be alive again, Chay just did it for Porsche, who wasn't doing it for Big but for his own guilt. and then Big's old life was like an ill-fitting glove, because he and Porsche can't be bitches with Big's sacrifice hanging over them but don't know how to act when they aren't being bitches, Korn won't accept him back because he only sees his own paranoia and none of Big's loyalty, and Kinn might appreciate Big's loyalty but he won't fight for it either, not when he's trying to juggle the rest of Korn's messes coming to fruition. Big's been completely forced out of his old life and any ties he might've kept to the other guards (as few as they were) are ruined by the others' guilt and discomfort, because Big might not have died in the first place if literally anyone had listened to him during the Tawan debacle, which they could ignore when he was dead but can't when he's alive and there in front of them.

and the whole confession draws Big up short because no one's ever asked him what he wants before. Big was just the son of a mafia enforcer who got scooped up young by the main family as a personal guard for Kinn. Big's never even considered that what he wants could be an option. even when he first came back, his main considerations were on the ways he was a better guard for Kinn. Big's chosen more things for himself in his weeks with Chay than he has in his life, and he never stopped to think how he feels about that.

he does now. kinda. this is Big after all. but after both forty-three excruciating minutes and three days, Big finally answers Chay, "i never lived for me before. it's...nice." Chay, who's gotten quite good at reading between the lines after all the exposure from Kim and Big, beams and makes him help him pick his electives for his first semester of university, because Chay's determined to help Big find a hobby and he's overcome far tougher things than emotional constipation.

[[ ask me about fics im not writing ]]

Bonus

small scene snippet from shortly after Big's first brought back to life, right after Kim's walked into screaming, stolen Pol's gun, and shoved Chay behind him for protection, because i love themm

Kim opens and closes his mouth silently before sputtering, “But you— I heard— What…?!”

Chay worms his arms around Kim’s waist to get his attention and his head pops over Kim’s shoulder. “It’s okay, phi,” he says soothingly, “I brought him back.”

Big gets an eye full of Kim’s face flashing through four emotions he recognizes and thirty he doesn’t, which is thirty-four more emotions than Big can deal with. Kim twists around in Chay’s hold, just enough to squint at him from the corner of his eye without letting Big out of his gun’s sight line. 

“You know how to resurrect the dead?”

Chay drops his chin onto Kim’s shoulder with a huff. “Why do people keep asking me that? It seemed like a useful skill to know!”

“Obviously,” Kim scoffs, which is the first original response Big’s heard to that all day. “I meant you can do it? What, we’re you bored and just googled ‘how to make a zombie’ one day after school?!”

Chay rolls his eyes and pokes the undersides of Kim’s ribs. Shockingly, Kim pushes further into his hold, rather than away. “Don’t be silly. You have to be trained by a shaman to make a zombie.”

Kim actually turns to look at him dead on. His gun is still trained on Big. 

Chay cocks his head to the side. “What? I just googled ‘how to bring back the dead’ and went from there. It’s basically CPR!”

“That worked?”

Chay looks genuinely baffled. “Why wouldn’t it?”

Kim stares at him incredulously before suddenly going boneless in Chay’s hold, squishing him back against the wall. Chay does not protest being squished between Kim and a hard place. He actually looks delighted by it. Big would like to go throw up now. He doesn’t know if corpses can do that, but he’s willing to make an effort. 

“Of course it works, you’re you,” Kim grumbles. He knocks his head against Chay’s and rubs in a move so cute Big will throw up, death be damned. “If life worked for me like that...”

Chay beams and pats his stomach. “I’ll teach you!”

Turns out corpses can't throw up, but they can gag so hard they choke.

[bittysvalentines]

5 times Jack failed at flirting

From: @leahlisabeth

To: @b1ttle

Summary: Jack is new to Providence which wouldn't be so bad if he didn't put his foot in his mouth/run away every time he runs into the Falconer's gorgeous, blond, PR person.  

Rating: none

Tags: Bitty does PR for the Falconers, Bad Flirting, Awkward Situations

Content warnings: Very brief mention of intended non-con

Message: Thank you so much for your prompts! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I really hope you like it.

1.

Providence is a nice place.  It’s a decent sized city; it would have to be to have their own NHL team, but it has a small town feel.  He can go jogging around his neighbourhood instead of in a cold, sterile gym or even worse, on a treadmill going nowhere.  But it’s not so small that he’s going to stand out and he’s going to get mobbed wherever he goes. Jack thinks he likes it.

He hasn’t really had too many chances to explore, even though he’s marked a few places on the map that he’d like to check out. He’s always been the kind of guy to be a regular, to show up at the same time and get the same thing, predictable and reliable.  It’s already past time for him to establish his Providence routine.

He passes by a sweet little coffee shop as he’s jogging.  It’s getting close to the end of his five- mile run and it is in the perfect location for a post-run snack.  Making a split-second decision, he diverts his path and heads inside.

He isn’t paying attention, already looking to see what’s on their menu, when he feels scalding hot liquid soak his running shirt.

“Oh my lord, I’m so sorry.” A much shorter man is standing in front of him and waving a handful of napkins in his face.  On reflex, Jack grabs for them, stilling both the waving napkins and the hands of the man standing red-faced in front of him.  “I hope I didn’t burn ya.”

“Euh, just a little steamed,” Jack says, finally succeeding in liberating one of the napkins from the man’s grasp and soaking up some of the rapidly cooling liquid on his chest. The man stops waving his arms and tries to help with the napkin he’s still holding.

With that handled, he takes a closer look at the person in front of him and he nearly swallows his tongue.  The guy is gorgeous, with blond hair and brown eyes so large they wouldn’t look out of place on a cartoon.  He’s small but holds himself like someone who is used to complete physical control over his limbs.  His chest is also splashed with coffee even though Jack had taken the brunt of it.  

“At least coffee is your colour,” Jack says.

The man stops mopping at Jack’s chest and looks up at him with a quizzical expression and Jack suddenly has the urge to run.  “Uh, goodbye?” he says before turning around and practically sprinting from the coffee shop.  Guess he can’t ever come back here again.

2. 

Jack’s been busy since moving to Providence.  He’s had near-constant practices and other team meetings as he’s getting to know his new teammates and they’re getting ready to start their season.  He’s heading out early in the morning and coming home late at night with barely a chance to inhabit his new home beyond the bedroom and the bathroom.

Finally, he gets a day off.   He starts it off the same way he has been so far, going for a run and only stopping in to buy coffee once he’s sure he’s not going to run into that blond man again.  

But once he gets home, he’s at a loss.  He bought a couch for the living room but he doesn’t have a TV and his books are all in storage until he has the time to go get them and unpack them.  It’s a little depressing.

Another hiccup occurs at lunchtime.  He decides to splurge and make his favourite chicken tenders. But since he’s mostly been eating out since he moved, he doesn’t even have a baking sheet.

He decides to go and buy at least a few things: a TV, a bookshelf that he can start filling, and the bare minimum for the kitchen.

He’s wandering a department store in the area and comparing two baking sheets, trying to decide if it matters that it’s nonstick, when he hears a familiar voice.

“I wondered if I might run into you again.”

Jack turns and sees the small blond who’s coffee he had spilled. He’s just as cute now and Jack isn’t finding it any easier to look him in the eye. “I was hoping I wouldn’t.”

“Oh,” the blond says, a strangely disappointed look on his face.  “Sorry, I’ll leave you to your shopping.”

“No...that isn’t…” Jack protests but he’s not entirely certain what to say and he can feel the red rising in his cheeks.

“I’d recommend the stainless steel pan.  It’s higher quality and I know they say that nonstick is safe but I’ve also read it leaves bits of Teflon in your food.  If you really want easy cleanup, just use parchment paper or a silicone baking mat,” the blond says, pointing to one of the baking sheets that Jack is still holding.

“Euh, thank you?” Jack says, but the blond man is already gone.

3. 

“Jack, can I meet with you for a moment in my office?” Georgia asks him after practice.  “It’s nothing bad,” she reassures him when she sees the look of apprehension on his face.

“Sure,” Jack says.  “Should I shower first or do you want me right away?”

“By all means, shower first,” Georgia smiles at him and leaves him there.  Even with her reassurance, Jack feels a pit open up in his stomach, just like the one he’d had every time in childhood when he had to talk to any sort of authority figure.  He knows they’re not going to fire him.  They have a contract.  But he’s a little afraid anyway.

A familiar blond man turns to face him when Jack enters the room.

“Jack, I want you to meet Eric Bittle,” Georgia says.  “He’s in charge of PR for the Falconers.  He’s here to talk about your Twitter account.”

Jack frowns.  “I need a Twitter account?”

Bittle turns and smiles at him.  It looks a little forced and Jack really wants to run away from the conversation he knows he needs to have.

“Eric will explain all about it.  You have a choice how involved you want to be but you will have to have at least one public social media account,” Georgia says.

“Oh,” Jack says.  “Um…”

“It shouldn’t take too long,” Bittle says.  “We don’t need to do it right now but we should set up a meeting.”

“Coffee,” Jack blurts out.

Bittle turns red.  “Do you think that’s safe?” he asks.

“No,” Jack says.  “I know it’s not.”

Georgia looks between them, a slight puzzled look on her face.  “Are you going to need my office or are you going to meet elsewhere?”

Bittle takes a card out of his wallet and hands it to Jack.  “Here, you think about it and when you’re ready, you can send me an email and we’ll set a time to meet.”

Jack nods.  Georgia and Eric are both staring at him.  He doesn’t know what they expect from him so he awkwardly turns and leaves.

4.

Jack hasn’t emailed Bittle yet.  He feels bad because he knows he is making Bittle’s job harder but every time he picks up his phone or his laptop, a cold sweat covers his body and he has to get out.  He doesn’t remember the last time he’s been so out of sorts in someone’s presence.  He thinks maybe it’s because Bittle is so completely his type and he hasn’t even entertained the thought of dating another man since Kent.  It shouldn’t be a big deal but it is.

It’s getting late and his stomach is growling. He hadn’t eaten anything after practice and he is paying for it now. He doesn’t feel like cooking or ordering takeout.  Maybe it’s a little weird, going out to eat alone, but the alternative would be to ask one of his new teammates and the anxiety at the thought of reaching out makes him more than a little nauseated.  Eating alone, it is.

He sits down and looks through the menu.  There are a lot of choices and most of them sound awful.  He regrets choosing this restaurant and he’s thinking about walking out.  He’s only ordered a water so far.

He can hear someone talking loudly from the next booth over.  “Oh yeah, sounds totally like a serious job and not an excuse to ogle hockey players in the buff.  I know your type.”

“Excuse me?” Jack recognizes Bittle’s Southern accent and suddenly, he is hyper-focused on the conversation happening behind him.

“Seriously, whoever hooked you up for that sweet gig, tell him I want to run PR for some of the local figure skaters.  That’s what gets my motor running.” The guy’s voice is loud and slurring and Jack can see looks of disgust from the other tables in the restaurant.

Bittle’s voice is frosty and nearly unrecognizable.  “I don’t think I like what you’re insinuatin’.”

“Aw, come on, it’s a compliment.  I way prefer that tight ass to some big muscle-bound goon,” the man laughs loudly.  Jack’s fist clenches.

“I think this date is over,” Bittle says.

“Don’t be like that.  Let’s cut the bullshit.  I know you’re gagging to go back to my place so I can pound that tight ass.”  

Jack can see Bittle standing to leave and he is about to relax when the man grabs Bittle’s wrist and pulls him in close to his side.  Jack hardly knows he is moving before he is looming over the man and prying his hand off Bittle’s wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man blinks up at him, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Hi, I’m a big muscle-bound goon.  I think your date said no,” Jack growls.

“This is none of your fucking business.  Leave us alone,” the man slurs.  He tries to stand up but thinks twice about it when Jack stares him down.

“Excuse me, can I get this man’s check?” Jack hails the nearest waitress.  She scurries away to get it.

The man tosses down some cash to cover the check.

“Tip too,” Jack says, counting the bills at a glance.  The man curses but throws down another $20.

“Did he drive?” Jack asks Bittle.

Bittle nods.  “He’s my ride.” He winces.

Jack holds out his hand.  “Keys.”

The man’s face grows apoplectic with rage.  He staggers out of the chair and tries to take a swing at Jack.  Jack easily dodges it and dumps him back in his chair. This time the man meekly holds out his car keys.

Jack hands them to the waitress.  “Call a cab for this man.  I’ll cover it.  He can pick his keys up here tomorrow when he’s sobered up.”

The waitress nods and stuffs the man’s keys into the pocket of her apron.

Jack drops another couple of bills on his table and guides a now trembling Bittle out of the restaurant.

“Lord, that was dramatic,” Bittle says.  

Now that the adrenaline has faded, Jack is suddenly tongue-tied again.  “Euh, Bittle...Do you like food?” he asks.

“Um...yes?” Bittle says, looking up at him in confusion.

“I mean I can just drop you at home if you want to go but I didn’t get a chance to eat and I noticed you hardly touched your dinner and then I don’t have to eat alone and the evening isn’t wasted,” Jack says in a rush.

Bittle’s face goes from confusion to a sunny smile.  “Jack, honey, that sounds absolutely perfect.  But if we’re gonna be friends now, you’re gonna have to start calling me Bitty.”

5.

Things are easier now.  He and Bitty meet up once or twice a week, sometimes to discuss new posts for his rapidly growing Instagram account, but mostly just to have coffee or dinner.  Jack’s never been much of a texter, but now, his phone is blowing up all day, every day.  He can’t help smiling every time he sees Bitty’s name pop up in his notifications.

Something is happening to him.  He thinks he’s been in love before.  Kent was all fire and passion and danger.  Camilla was all safety and comfort and security and routine and, if he’s honest, a tiny bit of boredom.  

But this is something else.  

There is passion, but he doesn’t want the side of secrecy that comes along with it.  He feels like he and Bitty have known each other all their lives, but he can’t think of anything he wants more than a lifetime to discover more about him.

The team teases him mercilessly.  Jack denies it but a little pit of sadness grows inside him as he tells them that he’s texting Bitty and of course he’s just a friend.

They go out for dinner and something feels different.  Bitty smiles up at him.  He touches his arm when no one is looking.  He touches his foot to Jack’s under the table and Jack lets him, maybe even presses right back.

Bitty blushes and Jack asks the waiter for a glass of wed rine.  Bitty laughs and Jack wants to make him laugh forever.

“Do you want to come up?” Bitty asks when Jack drops him off.

Jack nods.  Bitty’s apartment is as warm and cheery as the man himself.  Jack likes it.  He immediately feels more at home here than he has almost anywhere since he first moved to Providence, excluding only the feeling he gets in full gear at centre ice.

Bitty brings him a cup of tea and a slice of pie, maple apple and the best thing Jack has ever had in his mouth.

Bitty sits next to him on the couch and for once he’s quiet, content to sit next to Jack and enjoy his company.  

“Bits,” Jack says.  “I…”

Bitty leans in a little closer and Jack wants; it’s terrifying just how much he wants. 

“I…have to go,” Jack says.  “Thanks for the pie. It was delicious.”

He’s outside the door by the time logic kicks back in and it’s too late to go back inside.

+1

Bitty looks sad.  For the first time in several weeks, Bitty wasn’t the one to text first.  Jack knows he did something wrong and he wants to fix it.  But a small part of him also wonders if maybe this isn’t for the best.  Bitty makes things complicated.  He can’t come out anytime soon and Bitty deserves better than that.  Plus, there is the whole ethical dilemma of him dating a member of the team.  What if Georgia fired Bitty for this?  He couldn’t have that on his conscience.

It might be too late anyway.  Bitty doesn’t look at him when he enters the locker room.  He’s there talking to Tater and he keeps his focus steadily on the big Russian’s face.  He leaves without a look at Jack.

“Your boy mad at you?” Tater asks.

Jack’s heart skips a beat.  “What are you talking about?”

“Little B.  He not flirt with you or make googly eyes.  No maple apple pie in nook this week,” Tater says, clapping Jack’s shoulder with one big hand.  “Is lover’s quarrel, right? You say sorry.  We get pie.”

“You think Bittle and I are…” Jack’s voice trails off.

“Boyfriends, right?” Tater asked.

Jack is practically ready to pass out.  Tater talks so loudly and surely the rest of the team can hear this.  He looks around but no one seems to care.

“I thought we weren’t getting involved,” Marty said with a raised eyebrow.

“That was when they happy and flirting.  Not when Little B look like he might cry,” Tater says.

“Jack, we haven’t said anything because it’s not our business.  But we’re glad you and Bitty found each other,” Marty says.  “If you need to straighten something out, better to do it now than to take it on the ice.”

Jack nods and runs out of the locker room to find Bitty.  He catches Bitty in the entrance way, heading to his car in the parking lot.  He’s breathing hard and he realizes, staring at Bitty, that he has no idea what to say.

“Jack, are you alright?  Did you need something?” Bitty asks, holding his clipboard like a shield in front of him.

“My team just informed me we’ve been dating for weeks?” It comes out like a question and a shutter falls over Bitty’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.  It’s my fault.  You were so nice and we spent so much time together.  I really thought...but it’s okay.  Message received, loud and clear.  I won’t get you in trouble with your team.  I should have known better than to fall in love with a straight boy,” Bitty says, misery on his face and in his voice.

“I’m not,” Jack says.

“Not what?” Bitty asks.

“I’m not straight.  And I’m not in trouble.  And I really wasn’t sending you a message, at least not that message,” Jack says.  He takes a step closer to Bitty and Bitty drops his arms.

“What message were you sending?” Bitty whispers as Jack takes another step.

“I…” Jack still can’t get the words out.  Bitty is waiting, hope in his eyes, but that hope is fading with every second that Jack can’t find the words.  He forgets about words entirely, leans down and kisses Bitty.

When he pulls back, there are tears standing in Bitty’s eyes.  “Oh,” he says.  “Good.”

Jack just has to kiss him again.

[cagestark]

-Defender//2-

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

warnings: an alternate universe where the avengers are mean to tony and peter has none of it. 

read here on AO3

-

Everybody knows about the Avengers. They are the team of fantastically trained (and sometimes genetically enhanced) individuals who protect the world from intergalactic threats. For an enhanced teenager, they have been Peter’s heroes since he was bit by the radioactive spider as a teenager. Rumor had it that they were a great big family, all living together in Stark Tower and having game nights and private parties. He’d read a thought-provoking article on who would be Black Widow’s baby’s godfather, Tony, Steve, Bucky, or Clint—and Natasha Romanov isn’t even pregnant.

It takes only five minutes spent with them for Peter to see that he never should have taken Tony’s offer to join them in the first place. This is no family. At least, not the kind of family that Peter grew up with (though that family had all died off one by one), not the idealized family built on affection and mutual respect.

Maybe that is how it is—when Tony isn’t there.

“I’m the head of this team, you should have contacted me before extending Peter an invitation to join us.” Captain America, perhaps the most famous superhuman ever, stands at the side of the room in sweatpants and a tight t-shirt berating Tony when he thinks that Peter can’t hear. Peter keeps his face blank, staring around the room like he’s in wonder. It’s a beautiful room. There are exposed rafters—those would be so cool to hang from. But then a figure catches his eye and he sees there’s a man already perched up there, reading a magazine. Hawkeye, Peter knows. The man waves, and Peter waves back tentatively.

“I made several calls—did those not go through? Oh. You know what? Maybe I just considered making the calls and then thought better of it—”

“This is exactly why Fury is always on your back, Tony. You act first and think later. We don’t know this kid, don’t know how he meshes with the team, there’s not a room for him—”

“Not a room? This is my Tower, there’s more than ninety floors and a thousand rooms, I’ll find one for him. And for what it’s worth, he meshes just fabulously with me, Cap.”

“I can’t imagine why that thought doesn’t comfort me. Maybe it’s because the last thing we need on this team is another version of you.”

Tony laughs unhappily, and the sound makes Peter’s hands turn to fists he clenches in his lap. This isn’t the version of Tony Stark that the media sells at all. It isn’t even the man who sat with Peter at the Burger King talking about noise scrambling techniques. “You don’t have to worry about that. If anything, he’s got all my good traits and none of the bad ones.”

“What good traits?” Captain America mutters, rubbing at his forehead. Maybe it was even too quiet for Tony to hear, considering the man doesn’t reply.

But Peter hears it. Oh, he hears it.

Peter knows this at once: the family he had tentatively hoped he would receive?—he won’t receive. Whether it exists or not remains to be seen, but Peter vows then and there that he will not enter into any family that treats Tony the way he’s being treated now. It should be ridiculous: Tony is arguably the most powerful of all of them. He has enough wealth and resources to destroy them, not to mention an ultra-powerful suit with a mysterious endless power source. But when faced with this opposition in his teammate, he seems to crumble. To grow vulnerable.

Peter doesn’t like people who prey on the vulnerable.

“Peter,” Tony says when Captain America and he return to where they left him on the sofa. “This is the one, the only Captain America. He goes by many names—”

“But you can call me Steve. Nice to meet you.” The man is classically handsome with an excellent jawline, blue eyes, and blonde hair. He holds out a hand and Peter takes it—

—grips it. Then tighter, testing the strength. Peter lets himself grip tighter than he is careful to with un-enhanced humans, and he feels Steve change his own grip accordingly. The smile the man wears stays in place, but a furrow grows between the well-shaped eyebrows. This can’t be Steve’s full strength, though. More—Peter has to know. He squeezes more, just a little, their hands bobbing up and down in the mockery of a greeting. Bones would have cracked, if either of them weren’t enhanced, and the look in Steve’s eyes knows it.

All the time, Tony is talking. His voice flows over Peter like soothing white noise.

Peter squeezes just a little more—and there. Steve cringes, pulling his hand away just the slightest, a reflexive action to avoid the pain of Peter’s grip. Immediately, the younger man loosens his fingers.

Steve is strong.

But he’s not as strong as Peter. Not even close. And there’s a dark, scary part of Peter’s mind that thinks: Good. It feels good to know that he’s the physically strongest in the room, that he can use this strength to defend Tony himself, if needed. Even as he thinks it, it sounds ridiculous. Why would he need to defend himself from Captain America, the most notorious ‘good guy’ alive? Peter feels numb.

“—after that we all went to grab some shawarma, and wow, you two are really digging that handshake,” Tony mutters. He pulls his tinted glasses out of his breast pocket and replaces them on his face. “Should I give you a moment? Leave the room?”

“What?” Steve asks. He breaks their handshake. Out of the corner of Peter’s eye, he sees the man flexing his fingers. “No. Of course not. Let’s all sit down and talk.”

Peter does his best to curb the rest of his impulses. It helps to have Tony there next to him, a warm, (shockingly) quiet presence while Steve interrogates him. Peter gives them the watered-down version of his history: a radioactive spider bit him when he was a teenager and gave him the powers, he can stick to walls, his senses are enhanced, and he’s stronger.

“How strong?” Steve asks.

Peter meets his gaze flatly. “Very strong.”

“Any training?”

“No.”

Steve gives Tony a look. The hairs on Peter’s arms take notice, an animal instinct that feels threatened. In a handful of hours, he (and his enhanced senses) have come to see Tony as something precious, someone to be protected.

“I’ll take full responsibility for him,” Tony says flippantly. “I’ve already starting working on specs for his get-up. All he needs is the obligatory t-shirt all the Avengers get, and to pass Fury’s background check. Hope you don’t have any exo-skeletons in your closet, kid, because Eyepatch is going to find them.”

The young man’s stomach drops. There are a million tiny things this ‘Eyepatch’ might find. All the thievery Peter has done to stay alive, picking pockets for cash to buy food, stealing chips at 7-11’s so he can scarf them down in the alleyway, licking the crumbs from his bony fingers. Maybe he’ll find out about Peter’s previous employer, or the time Peter got his own uncle killed.

“Kid?” Tony says. “That silence isn’t reassuring.”

Just to break that silence, he asks: “Do the Avengers really all get t-shirts?”

-

There are no more bedrooms on the Avengers’ floor, so Tony takes it upon himself to house Peter on his own personal penthouse floor (which, apparently, has four guest rooms). Peter shakes when he stands in the middle of the room larger than the apartment he grew up in with his aunt and uncle. It smells clean, the sheets are fresh and smooth, there’s an attached bathroom with heated floors. All of these are luxuries for a kid who sometimes slept on benches until beat cops came to push him off to the next one.

But what really has him shaking is the fact that three rooms away is Tony Stark’s bedroom. That he’ll be sharing living spaces with Tony Stark. In the evenings if Peter wants to relax and watch television in the main room, Tony Stark might be there too, relaxing in an armchair with a glass of whiskey beside him, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, tapping away at a StarkPad. The man is so handsome, so kind. He’s changed Peter’s entire life in the course of a single day, and all when he could have just handed him over to the police.

“What do you think, kid?” Tony asks, leaning against the doorframe. “Not big enough for you? The one beside mine is bigger. Don’t be reasonable on my account. That’s not one of my few virtues.”

Peter opens his mouth to say no, it’s fine—but then, why the fuck would he want to say no? “Actually Mr. Stark—could I see the other room?”

“A kid after my own heart. Come on, I’ll show it to you.”

-

Tony has more than just began musing over specs for Peter’s suit. The next morning he greets Peter with burnt toast and a glass of OJ. Dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, he tells Peter that they’re going to spend the morning down in his lab where he can get proper scans for the suit he’s creating. They’re also going to run tests to learn more about Peter’s abilities.

“What kind of tests, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, eating every last bite of the burnt toast, even though it’s awful. Tony Stark made it! (And it’s not until later that he finds out it wasn’t Tony at all but a sweet little robot the man created, one who was prone to burning the toast and leaving the toilet seat up after it cleans and getting tangled in the blinds (which Tony finally had to do away with)) When Peter hears the word tests, he can’t help but remember the pictures in his textbooks of enhanced humans in cages like lab rats. He wished they were old, faded photos, relics of history, but they weren’t. Crisp, clear, and in color. From less than twenty years ago.

“I’m most interested in examining your scopulae—that’s the—”

“The hairs on a spider’s legs that it uses to stick to even slick surfaces. Yeah, I did a lot of research after I got bit,” Peter says, brushing crumbs from his shirt. Is there butter on his mouth? He squints at the shiny door of the elevator but it’s no replacement for a mirror. He subtly wipes his hand across his mouth anyway. “I’m still waiting to lay eggs, to be honest.”

Tony looks torn between laughing and crying. “We—will deal with that, if it should ever happen. Later. Never, hopefully.”

The tests turn out to be nothing scary. All he has to do is place his hands flat on these special sensors, ones that tingle with power and electricity. The lab itself is incredible, the place of Peter’s dreams. He’s always longed to go back to school and pursuing something in the science field, but growing up poor and only getting poorer hadn’t left a lot of room for educational advancement. This lab though is a place of magic, and FRIDAY? Well—Peter thinks he might love her.

“Can you see these googly eyes he’s giving you baby girl?” Tony asks the disembodied voice, a pencil between his teeth. Peter swoons. The way Tony talks to his tech is—well Peter wouldn’t mind being on the other end of that sweettalk.

“It’s safe to say my circuitry is blushing, boss,” FRIDAY says to both of their amusement.

When he asks Peter to take his shirt off so Tony can apply some electrodes to monitor his heart rate and blood pressure, he blinks at the sight of Peter’s newly-exposed abs. Peter can’t help but flex under the dark gaze. Living rough has him skinnier than he’s ever been, but the spider bite turned every last bit of him into muscle. Objectively, he can admit that it’s rather impressive looking. Tony clearly thinks so, with the way he swallows and adjusts his glasses before applying the electrodes, careful not to touch Peter’s skin no matter how desperately the younger man wants him to.

Around lunch time, Tony asks, “Pizza, Pete? Am I appealing to the whole room when I say pizza?”

Pete. Fuck. No one’s given him a nickname in…forever, it feels. Peter swallows around the lump in his throat and rubs his empty stomach. “Enhanced appetite. I’m never going to turn down a meal, Mr. Stark.”

“You hear that, FRI?” Tony says. “Order pizza from my usual place, and start ordering double groceries for delivery. Any allergies, kid?”

“No.”

After splitting a large New York style pizza with Tony Stark, Peter sits on a stool a table away (so the man has plenty of room to work) and watches. It’s warm, his eyes are heavy lidded, stomach full and sated. This is the happiest and most comfortable he’s been in a long time. Since May passed, at least. I made it, May, he thinks to himself, eyes stinging. All the hours she worked trying to provide for him, all the lessons she tried to impart it. Now Peter has a purpose. He’s going to be working to help keep the world safe. And he’s secure.

He’ll do whatever it takes to keep this opportunity.

“Do you and Captain America have a long history?” Peter asks.

Tony doesn’t even glance up from his work. “Cap and I? Yeah, we go way back.”

“I don’t like—” Peter manages to stop himself, but just too late. The relaxed atmosphere relaxed his tongue too, drunk on the warmth and good company. The words are out there now, and the way Tony’s eyes flicker up shows that he’s listening, waiting for the sentence to complete itself. “—I don’t like the way he treats you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s just, he’s not very nice to you, is he?”

Tony sits back on his stool, rubbing at his jaw like it aches. “How he treats me? He doesn’t treat me any differently than anyone else, I suppose. Everyone is—well, they’re nice enough.”

“Would you let him talk to me the way he talks to you?” Peter asks.

Tony blinks, presses his lips together in a thin line; Peter can tell that he’s doing the math in his head and not liking the outcome. Maybe it’s too soon for him to make a gamble like that, to assume that this man cares about Peter enough to give a damn whether Steve talks down to him. But he has a feeling that Tony Stark cares about most people. Even Peter.

“I wouldn’t,” he says at last, and Peter didn’t know that his heart could soar even as it twists. “But we’re not exactly the same person, kid.” He goes back to being hunched over the lab table. There’s a hologram of a gloved hand that the man twists and turns with just the prodding of his fingers. “Maybe we Avengers aren’t all best friends like the media portrays, but they don’t treat me any differently than what I deserve.”

“You deserve way better than that,” Peter says.

That makes Tony look up, his face turned blue with illuminated light. The intensity of his expression might make a lesser man look away, but Peter is unflinching. Unyielding; Eventually, he gives Peter a smile that is equal parts happy and sad, a flower blooming right before the first frost that will surely wither it away. With a snap of his fingers, the hologram melts into the table and disappears. “How about we call it quits for the day. You’re off the hook. Run along now—do whatever kids do. Scram.”

[recommendedlisten]

Recommended Listen has gotten into the seasonal swing of things when it comes to highlighting great music that didn't receive a proper review, may have slipped this sole scriber site by since the last solstice or equinox, or in the case of more complex artists like Björk and Fever Ray, just needed more time to digest on the senses. At this point in the year, it's especially been remarkable to see how many new efforts have been released in the days since every publication has already shored up their best album accolades. There's a solid argument to be made that calendars don't matter so much anymore (nor do year-end lists...), and that it's actually a great opportunity to grab listeners' attention just as the competition for it dwindles. Winter's a great time to catch up on all of that, so here's 10 albums to keep you company for when the weather outside is frightful.

Angel Olsen - Phases [Jagjaguwar]

Today, we known Angel Olsen as a shape-shifting indie rocking siren, but her master craft has seen her sound evolve significantly since she entered the music world’s conscious nearly a decade ago. As a collection of B-sides, rarities and covers spanning the course of her entire career, Phases is aptly titled in that it uncovers these hidden gems that span back as far as her days strumming sparse acoustic folk songs into a hollow space into tape, all the way to her fully formed My Woman sessions that left a couple of standouts on the cutting board. For the Angel Olsen enthusiast, it’s more than just a collection of odds and ends, as even the songwriter’s lost tracks are better than most of her contemporaries, and for the novice, it’s the perfect introduction that makes it easy to catch up on what one might be missing if they’ve not paid attention to her already. 

Björk - Utopia [One Little Indian]

Björk’s 2015 album Vulnicura arrived in the dead of winter, and really offered no consolation from Mother Nature’s wicked ways. It was a devastating breakup album inspired by the dissolution of her marriage, and for the first time in a very long time since concentrating the past decade of her creative force on boundary-pushing sound into the future did we get to hear from a more human, intimately vulnerable side of her psyche. Its follow-up Utopia is the natural extension of the emotional wreckage Vulnicura left in its wake, but from a polar opposite end. The Icelandic alternative innovator jokingly has called it her “Tinder album” because of the way it finds her rediscovering what love is through the distracting noise of modern technology, and the validity of our emotions in spite of it. Putting the compositional purity of golden harps, flutes, and fluttering strings at odds with Arca’s deconstructed electro-pop sounds like a commentary on her pursuit for an inner Utopia, and her sung wisdom suggests she’s found it.

BROCKHAMPTON - Saturation III [Empire / Question Everything, Inc.]

Saturation III concludes a series of homemade mixtapes released by the rising rap “All-American boy band” BROCKHAMPTON throughout 2017 that increasingly along the way found the Internet-bred collective growing more confident in their rhymes, style, substance, and individual identities. By now, they’re no longer a message board secret, as we find them here coming to terms with that new found success in full bravado. Ringleader Kevin Abstract leads the circus by gussying up production in a way that branches he and the pack away from already-spurning sound-a-likes and even the hip-hop influences they looked up to two chapters ago by making their beats gleam in the spotlight, and every member an avenue to speak to it. In short, it’s got as many rhymes to celebrate with as it does to take seriously. For those who were trolled by BROCKHAMPTON’s self-made rumor that it might be the group’s last album, Saturation III instead makes its presence known like like their own take on “Auld Lang Syne”, seeing that 2018 should be an even bigger year for this crew of cool kids.

Charli XCX - Pop 2 [Asylum / Atlantic Records]

We may never get another proper full-length album out of Charli XCX again, but that’s alright if she continues to keep turning pop on its ear as she did throughout 2017. Capping off a year that included the SOPHIE-inspired twisted breakup mixtape Number 1 Angel and her standalone standout “Boys”, Pop 2 sounds like the closest thing to a culmination in the UK superstar’s pursuit of experimenting with style and substance. Its guest list features a who’s who of “it” makers (indie darlings Carly Rae Jepsen Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek, rap and R&B futurists Cupcakke and MØ) on top of production PC Music’s A.G. Cook that swirls Charli XCX and friends in fizzy effervescence of big-hooked Europop, post-trap fog, and rave light dimmed down to the minimal. Its cohesion that pieces together Charli XCX’s most daring recent fashion statements, and leaves behind an icy cool sheet on the speakers that glistens with her star power.

Fever Ray - Plunge [Mute Records]

Fever Ray’s 2009 self-titled debut album contrasted what the Knife had made before it in its dense, dark matter, and focus on an electronic pulse that slotted her work in perfectly with the cruel witchhouse hunting of those times. The morbid creature Dreijer had created gave a visual alter ego to everything that her other work was not by indulging abrasive minimalist textures as frightening as the stage outfits Dreijer adorned when publicly supporting the effort. On her sophomore follow-up Plunge, Dreijar sounds as if she’s rekindling her spirit with what the Knife detached itself from in those final moments, however, in face-melting appreggios and staccato’s sputtering blood on the dance floor, without losing any of the grotesque, fetishizing spectacle of human error. With her electronic freak show, Fever Ray shines a spotlight on our sociopolitical climate -- A strange sexual tension that’s hard to fuck in, yet insatiably adventurous.

Gingerlys - Gingerlys [Topshelf Records]

In a vastly growing sea of dream-pop, it should be easy for any new artists to get lost in its waves, but Brooklyn quintet Gingerlys not only stand out -- They do so almost effortlessly on their self-titled debut. It’s a 30-minute breeze of melancholic euphoria framed in a colorful atmosphere of shimmering keys and the duality of crisp jangles and hazy reverb between guitarists Collin O’Neiil and Matthew Richards soaring over rough romantic tides on the shoulders of singer Jackie Mendoza’s clandestine coo. It’s dream-pop with a sparkling pep in its stride despite its faded reflections, and in the winter months when colder weather, shorter days, and being held captive by the occasional snowstorms if you so happen to live outside a sunshine state, their sunny melancholia is a suitable substitute for your vitamin D deficiency.

Glassjaw - Material Control [Century Media]

Most bands out of the early Aughts post-hardcore and indie-emo scene have made big ados about their comebacks for the sake of the cash grab. Material Control, the first new album in 15 years from seminal Long Island scene wrecking balls Glassjaw, really doesn’t need to preemptively bank on hype to get itself over, having initially dropped within days of its announcement and given even their loyalists no satisfaction in predictability. The effort finds vocalist Daryl Palumbo, guitarist Justin Beck and new-ish rhythm recruits in bassist Travis Sykes and drummer Chad Hasty accentuating the heavier -- albeit, weirder -- moments in their sound. While they’ve never really been of the more melodic ilk of post-hardcore, Material Control is a modern day reassessment of that in the way sludged riffs battle for space with meatier basslines, the occasional unattended live wire, and mathematical metal chaos. This is the kind of hardcore album that gives your brain a workout when the outdoors leaves your physical energy contained.

Lemuria - Recreational Hate [Asian Man Records / Big Scary Monsters / Turbo Worldwide]

For their first album since 2013′s listmaking The Distance Is So Big, DIY scene staples Lemuria went into business for themselves by recording the album in secret with just the faith of their fanbase (who’d pre-ordered something, but weren’t sure exactly what it was until it was announced) fueling the journey. The experiment is evident on the Buffalo indie-punk trio’s fourth full-length Recreational Hate. Here, they bridge together a happy medium between the super chunky pop-punk riffs of their early work and an adulting alt-country twang that finds a safe place for their music and their existential anxieties with Saddle Creek new schoolers Big Thief and Hop Along. Working with production pro Chris Shaw -- who has recorded in the past with Nada Surf, Weezer, and Wilco -- in the studio has further fleshed out Lemuria's sound to fill bigger spaces beyond their usual digs. In a day in age when the element of surprise in late-year releases isn’t like it used to be for Bey, hearing one of indie rock’s most beloved underdogs pull it off on their own terms is well worth celebrating, and to the benefit of diehard listeners at that.

Lost Film - Broken Spectre [Self-released]

No, Western Massachusetts is not just a bunch of bands who have a bed of fuzz pedals at their feet. Lost Film, the moniker of Easthampton songwriter Jimmy Hewitt, is living proof that not every sound coming out of the 413 is drenched in dense layers of reverb. On latest mini album Broken Spectre, he instead opts for crisp cut layers of guitar pop that paint its wintry calloused surroundings with light pastel hues and faded rays. Normally, you might expect this sort of indulgence in sun sounds from bands dreaming up an escape from their concrete jungles, or tempted by the brink of the beach, but take into account while listening that Lost Film calls home an area defined by sleepy college towns, strip malls, and the occasional back road sprawl home, and you’ll realize it’s not very difficult to hear how the isolation of suburbia can have the same effects of malaise. When snowed in and hibernating, Broken Spectre sets you adrift to some place in the air.

Special Explosion - To Infinity [Topshelf Records]

To Infinity, the debut full-length from Special Explosion, couldn’t be more true to advertising in what the band call themselves, the album’s title, and their categorization as a “dreamo” band. The Seattle five-piece, who has been quietly building an arsenal over the years in the forms of EPs and singles, mechanically assembles them in awe-striking form here, and for the spectating listener who prefers their rock to indulge in all of the beauties of life, this is most definitely experienced in the big bang universe of their sound. At any given point, the music can rumble and burst in with the enormity of post-rock mountains soundscaped with grace and intimidation, an aurora borealis of electric synapses and folk strings reflective of Hundred Waters, and the eerie solace of something much bigger than that which can be captured by any sound at all. To Infinity and beyond, Special Explosion’s escape into the unknown is one of this season’s most welcome ways to embrace the cold void around you.

[littledonkeyburrito]

That is so specific and no

1. Do you eat dessert after dinner? I don’t actually eat that much sweet stuff although I’ll often eat a mandarin after a meal 2. What is the fastest you have ever gone in a car? 200kph in germany when I was a kid. I probably shouldn’t have to specify, but I was not driving   

3. If the last female you talked to told you that she was pregnant, what would you say to her? "How?” 4. If the last male you talked to told you that he was going to be a father, what would you say to him? "congrats on getting laid”

5. Who were the last people you had a group conversation with on Facebook? @aturinfortheworse​, @intimidatethevoid​ and @thefreegladelancer​

6. Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behavior the next day? Several times

7. Have you ever gone into school or work with a hangover? Work yeah a few times with a mild hangover 8. What was the last thing your parents gave you money for? I asked to borrow money to survive until I go back to australia and start work again so I can pay it back 9. ho was the last person you took a photo of? Me 10. What’s the shortest song you have on your iPod? See you tonight - Green Day is the shortest I have on itunes. There’s more on my ipod but there’s no way I’m going to that effort for this question. 11. Who was the last new artist you came across that you really liked? Molotov, but mostly their relatively newer stuff. Also DLD 12. What was the last video you watched on YouTube? Sed - División Minúscula 13. How old’s the last male you messaged? 23 14. When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? Beer, cider or rum&coke 15. What color was the last mug you drank out of? The only mug I have in my apartment. It’s from ikea and it has drawings of space and planets on it. 16. Is there a food or drink that you haven’t had before but would like to try? I totally should have tried dog while I was in southern china a few years ago. I’m always open to try new things 17. When was the last time you saw or spoke to someone you dislike? Thursday. The creepy boss guy from the telemarketing job (which I finally got paid for). He was always fine in the office but you could tell he’s a total sleaze and you would absolutely avoid him outside the office. 18. Does that person know you dislike them? Probably not. It’s not a strong dislike, I’d just rather not be around him, which is not a problem because I don’t work there anymore 19. Has anyone told you recently that they fancy you? No. Although the other day I did get a few guys stare at me which was unusual 20. If you were told that you were going to spend the rest of your life with the last person you kissed, would that make you happy? The rest of my life? I certainly don’t know him well enough to commit to that but I would defs be happy to see him again. 21. Who was your first boy/girlfriend and do you still talk to them? A guy I was friends with when I was 14. I have him on facebook I think but we haven’t spoken in many years 22. If you married the last person that liked your Facebook status, what would your new last name be? Coleman. But I really don’t think I’m going to marry my dad’s best friend.

23. Tell me about the first five photos you have on your phone or camera. 1) a photo to show how close my food is kept to where I use my laptop 2) The cinema screen yesterday to send to my mum to tell her that, yes, they did play the 20 fucking minute olaf the snowman animation before Coco. 3) whiteboard in the telemarketing office from when I stopped in to pick up my cash. I noticed they had a new office phone number so I took a photo of it to google later. I assume they changed it because the old one kept getting posted on scam forums. 4) A nice view down a street 5) The square near my house with the christmas lights lit up

24. When was the last time you had wet hair? Now

25. Describe your handbag. I don’t use handbags. A few years ago I went on holiday to melbourne with a few guy friends and as we went out one day I had my bag and they all had absolutely nothing I was super jealous. So the next day I went and bought a wallet to fit in my pocket and never looked back. If I have to carry a lot of stuff I use a backpack.

26. Have you ever been to the beach? If so, tell me the name of the beach you last went to and when. The last beach I went to was in the Bocas Del Toro archipelago in Panama. I don’t think I’ve even walked down to the beach here since I got back.

27. Do you have an unhealthy obsession with colored furry throw pillows that are different shapes and sizes? That is so specific and no.

28. Which passes by your house / street more often: a bus, a train, or an airplane? closest bus would be 100m at least, train is ~300m and planes come in from the ocean, not over the city. But only the street cleaners and occasional motorbike actually come down my street

29. Can you sleep without any covers on, or do you need at least a sheet covering you, even if it is really hot outside?29.  I can sleep in just about any scenario

30. How many languages can you say ‘love’ in? english, spanish, italian, german. Portuguese is probably the same or very similar to spanish.

31. What’s on your “things to buy” list for the near future? Belt, umbrella, more undies. My life is so exciting

32. Do you know how to surf at all? I know the basics, in theory, but I have only tried surfing twice

33. How many times have you been kissed? Too many to count

34. How tall is the last person you kissed? Pretty tall. Maybe 6′2″?

35. If your parents read your texts right now, would you be in trouble? Why the fuck are my parents going to care that I, an independent 23 year old, am asking friends for videogame suggestions?

36. Were you single over last summer? Ehh pretty much

37. What did you do yesterday? I went to see Coco

38. Have you had sex with more than 5 people this month? This month? Fuck, I’m not that good at attracting attention from boys. I was proud of 5 in a year

39. Could you handle living with the last guy you messaged? We’d probably be pretty good flatmates actually

40. What’s your mother’s favorite color? It depends a lot on the context of the colour, but in general she likes yellow. The colours she wears most are purple, green and orange.

41. Honestly, are things going the way you planned? No, but that’s not always a bad thing. I never thought I’d have half the experiences I’ve had from travelling

42. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? No.

43. Would you spend a whole night with the last person you kissed? I would, gladly

44. How would life be if someone took away your cell phone? I would be pissed because I don’t have the money to replace it

45. If you were to paint the sky another color, what would it be? I’m not sure you understand how the sky works. It cannot be painted.

46. Have you ever been attracted to someone very unattractive? Attractiveness is subjective

47. Have you ever tried cocaine or heroine? coke yes, heroin never have never will

48. Are you scared of being alone in big cities? No. I am always alone in a big city

49. Does your phone slide or flip? lmao how old is this?

50. Can you speak any languages other than English? Puedo hablar español, pero no hablo muy bien

51. When you were younger, did your parents ever let you open a few presents before Christmas arrived? Mum would let me and my brother open our gift from our grandparents on christmas eve.

52. Do you really care how many friends you or anyone else has on Facebook? No but I go on a deleting spree a couple times a year so it generally stays around 200-250

53. Last person/people to play (an) instrument(s) in your presence? Which? I probably walked past a busker in the metro last time I went to the grocery store

54. When, where, and to whom did you lose your virginity? About 4 years ago, in my bed, to a guy I was friends with at the time

55. Last song you sang in the shower? I don’t sing in the shower because I’m pretty sure you’d be able to hear me from the building stairwell. I don’t need to inflict that on people

56. Have you eaten any fruit today? I had a mandarin earlier. I fucking love mandarins

57. How many houses have you lived in? Since I moved out of my parent’s place, I’ve lived in 5 houses/apartments

58. What colour is the last lighter you used? Blue

59. Last thing you threw in the garbage? Beer can but it was more of a gentle toss

60. When was the last time you sat in the back seat of a car? Whenever I last got a cab or uber

61. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Yesterday while I was watching Coco...

62. Starting in what grade were crayons excluded from your school supply list? Why on earth would that be significant enough for me to remember into adulthood?

63. Do you have anything from IKEA in your room? so much

64. Are you excited to live on your own? I was pretty keen and it’s been awesome. People suck and living alone is amazing.

65. Next movie you’ll watch? Paddinton 2. The first one was so good

66. Now what are you listening to? Adiós - Ricky Martin

67. What job would you NEVER take, even as a last resort? I would never try telemarketing again. 68. If someone looked in your closet, how would they judge your style? They’d think I was fancy because the only clothes actually in my wardrobe are my suits. The rest are on my shelves.

69. The boy/girl you truly care about needs you at 3:00 a.m., would you go? My bank account would say no 70. What’s the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated? Dated? 4 years. Slept with? More than 4 years...

71. When did you meet the last male you texted? 2012

72. Your phone is ringing. It’s your ex. Do you answer? Yes because it must be important

73. What are you currently hearing? Aprender A Quererte - Morat

74. Are you a bad influence? On occasion

75. Would you rather sleep with someone else, or alone? Now that it’s winter it would be nice to have some warm to cuddle with

76. If the last person you kissed were calling you right now, would you answer? Yes

77. Who is your favorite family member on your mom’s side? Maybe my little cousin Jimmy. My whole family are pretty great though

78. Where is the last person you kissed? Somewhere in Costa Rica I assume

79. This time last year were you dating or talking to someone? I was seeing a guy

80. Who saw your last kiss? Nobody. It was like 4:30am and in a hotel room

81. Do you know anyone who still doesn’t have a smartphone? My grandma

82. Have you ever been on a cruise? Technically I have been on a cruise ship. At work one time I had to go up the gangway to talk to a crew member and get them to radio someone. But I don’t think I would pay money to be on one because I know how often they have gastro outbreaks.

83. Have you ever had an x-ray? Dental x-rays. Fun fact: I have 2 less adult teeth than I should because they just never grew. I am missing bones.

84. What is one food you couldn’t live without? Chilli

85. When was the last time you were at a church and why? I think I went into a church in Bogotá to have a look

86. What are your views on abortion? It is great that it’s an option

87. Do you believe in sex before marriage? Definitely

88. If you had to choose, what one country would you most like to visit? At the moment I really want to visit Mexico or Madagascar but would also like to go back and see more of Costa Rica and Colombia

89. Have you ever seen anyone die? Yeah, at the music festival I went to in July. An aerial dancer fell about 30m at the main stage and he died

90. Did you eat a cookie today? Yes

91. Do you like the snow? Quite a lot

92. Would you prefer a thunderstorm or for it to be snowing? Either would be fantastic. Snow is awesome, but I do miss tropical storms from home. They don’t really happen here. Got a couple in central america though 93. Remember the first time you kissed the last person you kissed? I sure do

94. What kind of pants are you wearing? Jeans

95. What are the names of all the people you have dated? Depends on definition. At the least, there was Corey and Michael. Fortunately those are pretty damn common names so I don’t mind sharing. The others who are less definite also have less common names.

96. Will you be under the influence of alcohol today? If I could be bothered going to the shop then I would be drunk right now

[inkyleaf]

TG 132: Determination - PART 2/2 (M2F + RC + AR)

PART 1!!!

             A few footsteps were heard before the perpetrator spoke: “Jack, you can come out. It’s me, Kaitlyn.” Jack didn’t believe her ears. She poked half of her head out, convinced that she was going crazy. The real Kaitlyn stood in front of the bed, wearing a black jumpsuit fitted with all kinds of tools and pockets. She had rolled a small luggage behind her, and her hair was tied into a perfect bun. Countless thoughts filled Jack’s mind, but she couldn’t utter a word. Over the next minute, Kaitlyn rolled her luggage to the nightstand and slowly sat down on the bed.

               “Jack, will you talk with me?” Kaitlyn asked in a soft, personal tone. Her sad, yet serious expression made her look vulnerable. “…Who are you?” was all Jack could muster, poking more of her head out from the covers. “Jack, I-I’m so sorry…” Kaitlyn sobbed. Tears filled her eyes faster than she could’ve expected. She leaned her body halfway toward the bed, bringing some of the sheets up to cover her face and absorb her tears. “K-Kait, what’s going o-on?” Jack swallowed, trying to keep a steady voice.

             “I did it all for him, Jack,” Kaitlyn began moments later. “It was for your son, Cameron.” The girls sat in silence for a minute as Kaitlyn calmed herself. “I will tell you everything from the beginning, Jack. Please listen to what I have to say,” Kaitlyn said. Intense emotions bubbled in Jack’s mind, but she remained silent. “I am a Japanese spy. I was deployed to America two years ago disguised as a college student. I-I knew nothing…” Kaitlyn bit her bottom lip, “I knew nothing of America at the time. I was even xenophobic. But one day, your son Cameron approached me. He offered to show me around town – apparently he was smitten with me months before, but was too afraid to approach. I accepted, viewing it as a chance to gather more intel from who I perceived as a dumb American.”

               Tears came back to Kaitlyn’s eyes as she continued: “B-but, he was so nice. So sensitive to how I felt. Even showed interest in my culture. His eyes were big and genuine… I brushed it off at first, but we spent more time together as weeks passed. Before I realized what I was doing, he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I couldn’t say no. He singlehandedly changed my opinion on this entire country, Jack, and continues to do so. I love him with all of my heart, and I know he feels the same. I couldn’t be more thankful for that.”

               Another minute of silence passed. Kaitlyn took deep breaths before continuing: “But, my time in America is almost up. I must return to Japan in 48 hours. I was born into my job, Jack. I grew up as a robot, training for this singular purpose. I cannot quit being a spy – I would be tortured if I even attempted. If given the choice, I would choose to stay here with Cameron. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice,” Kaitlyn ended with a loud sob. Jack swallowed hard before speaking up: “So, what happened to me?” Kaitlyn turned to look Jack in the eye. “The drink I gave you last night, it was a serum developed by my country. It was made for torture, designed to mutate those who drank it. I spent months editing the formula. I eased the pain as much as I could, but the ultimate goal was to turn you…into me,” Kaitlyn said with a sad smile.

               Jack didn’t know what to say. Her questions were endless, but organizing them into sentences was impossible. “Oh, and I lied about giving the rest of your family the drink, so don’t worry,” Kaitlyn said. “Don’t worry?!” Jack suddenly snapped, sitting up with her bare chest revealed. “Kaitlyn, I’m not you! I can’t be you! I’m a husband, a father, and a goddamn engineer! You can’t do this to me!” Jack yelled, no longer able to control her emotions.

               “Jack,” Kaitlyn began in a soothing tone, “this project was months in the making. Everything has been accounted for. I went to your family today, and we discussed that I would be moving in. I told them my ‘parents’ were forcing me to be more independent. You will still live in the same house, Jack. And you getting off of work early yesterday was my doing as well… I wanted make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as possible. I’m sorry.”

               “Bu-but… Why? WHY?!” Jack screamed, grabbing Kaitlyn’s shoulders, now more sad than angry. “WHY DID YOU RUIN MY LIFE?!” “Because…isn’t it obvious…?!” Kaitlyn trembled with tears on her cheeks. “Because I love your son and I couldn’t break his heart!” she yelled back with equal passion. Kaitlyn buried her head into Jack’s shoulder, crying more than her doppelganger. The women wept on each other for nearly 20 minutes. Jack’s fury only came out as helpless confusion when she managed to speak after their tears had waned. “I can’t just be you,” she said, pulling away from Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn wiped a tear from her eye before speaking: “You can. Remember when I said everything was accounted for?” Kaitlyn hopped off of the bed and opened her luggage, revealing a full wardrobe of female clothes and accessories. Before Jack could react, Kaitlyn laid out her wallet, phone, and keys on the bed. “I’m going to teach you how to be a woman, Jack.”

               “…No. Absolutely not,” Jack said, looking through the frilly underwear and dresses. “Okay, you don’t have to start with skirts,” Kaitlyn said, putting the more girly clothing at the bottom, “but you need to know how to hook a bra. Stand up.” “You’re insane, you know that?” Jack said as she stood. “You think I can’t convince my family that I’m me?” she continued. Kaitlyn responded as she cupped Jack’s breasts in the bra from behind: “Jack, you’re very smart. I know you possess that ability. But think about what would happen. Please, think hard. Also, here you go.” Kaitlyn put the bra’s hooks in Jack’s hands.

               If Cameron knew it was me, Jack thought, hardly fiddling with the bra, he would demand answers. Even if I told him about the real Kaitlyn, he’d only be depressed, and my appearance would be a constant reminder… Nobody would win. Nora couldn’t love me either. She may still enjoy my presence, but our romance would die. What if she finds another man, Jack swallowed hard. She wouldn’t find another man if she knew I was in this body. I’d only hold her back…

               “Please, change me back,” Jack whimpered. She let the bra fall to the floor with no progress made. "Kaitlyn, please. I can’t do this.” Waterworks returned to Jack’s eyes. “I can’t do that, Jack. The resources don’t exist. Kaitlyn approached Jack for a hug, but Jack pushed her back. “Fuck you! Get out of here, I never want to see you again!” she shouted. Kaitlyn kept a calm demeanor, realizing that her presence would only hinder Jack for the rest of the night. “Okay Jack, I will leave. Good night,” she said, walking out of the room.

               This nightmare has to end soon, it has to, Jack thought, trying to find comfort in denial. She concurrently racked her brain for a solution to living with her family with her identity known, but nothing favorable existed. I’m going to wake up tomorrow, and all of this will have just been a bad dream, she thought before falling asleep.

               Jack woke up at dawn again and rolled over to check her phone. A lock screen showing a happy picture of Cameron and Kaitlyn popped up before the phone was unlocked with her fingerprint. This is Kait’s phone… Jack sat up, dismayed by the sight of the hotel room. The bra from last night was still on the floor next to an open luggage of clothing, but the phone, along with Kaitlyn’s wallet and keys, were placed on the nightstand. No way. Upon further investigation, Jack realized that her own phone and wallet were gone, as the cash from her wallet was placed on top of Kaitlyn’s.  

               After such a debilitating night, Jack didn’t feel angry, sad, or even surprised. “This is it, huh?” she said as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. “What a fucking joke.” She bit her bottom lip, giving her breasts another upset squeeze before going back to sit on the bed. Jack dug through Kaitlyn’s phone for almost two hours, reading her past conversations, scrolling through her Facebook feed, and looking at the photos in her camera.

               “She’s good. No one could’ve suspected she was anything other than a fun college girl.” As the sun rose higher and higher, Jack knew she had to bite the bullet and get dressed. “Damn it all, damn it all,” she muttered to herself, struggling to properly hook the bra around her back. “Get in there, c’mo-argh! Jesus!” Her breasts were pinched and prodded as she tried to securely fit them in the cups, unable to know what felt right or wrong. Jack shivered as she slid panties up her smooth legs, admittedly feeling much better in them compared to her boxers. After throwing on the blandest long-sleeved shirt, and, to her annoyance, skinny jeans, she felt a small sense of accomplishment.

               Rap rap. The knocks on the door startled Jack. “It’s me, Jack,” Kaitlyn said from the other side, feeling it was best to not let herself in this time. Jack opened the door and stared at Kaitlyn as she walked in. “Well, what do you want?” Jack asked, sitting on the bed. “I came to say goodbye, for good this time. Before I leave, would you like me to help you with anything? The man ‘Jack’ has already been checked out of this room, so feel free to leave whenever.” “What’d you do with my phone and wallet? Did Nora call me?” Jack asked, desperate to hear any potential last words she could’ve said to the man she used to be. Kaitlyn shook her head. “I do not know, but the phone and wallet were terminated. Jack is dead, you are Kaitlyn now,” she said as monotone as possible, hoping that Jack wouldn’t fly into another tear-filled rage. “So I am. So I fucking am,” Jack said, pausing before continuing: “So you’re just gonna tell my family that I’m dead and expect me to console them? You’re a fucking monster.”

               Kaitlyn turned her head, unable to deny Jack’s words. “Yes,” she whispered, trying not to cry again. She had originally wanted to teach Jack how to use makeup, and perhaps convince her that decreasing her age by a few decades wasn’t so bad, but now she knew it’d be impossible. Jack didn’t have to be yelling to show Kaitlyn that she loathed her. We really don’t get happy endings, do we? Kaitlyn thought before saying, “I’m sorry, Jack, for what it’s worth. I’m so sorry… Goodbye.” Kaitlyn briskly walked out the door, never to be heard from again.

               Jack lay on her bed, taking deep breaths and wishing that time would stop moving so fast. She grabbed a bagel on her way out of the motel around 9 AM and immediately noticed that her car had been replaced with Kaitlyn’s. Of course. Jack threw the luggage Kaitlyn had given her into the trunk and drove back to her house despite being terrified of facing her family under her new skin.

               “Welcome ‘home’ babe!” Cameron happily greeted Jack as she got out of the car. Jack was taken aback by the sight of being shorter than her son as Cameron squeezed her with a hug. “H-hey, Cameron,” she simply replied. Her tone and lack of makeup was quick to catch Cameron’s attention. “Something wrong?” he asked as they walked into the house. You have no idea. “…No, no, just a little tired. I’m going to miss my, uhh, parents,” Jack replied, then continued, “Where’s your mo-I mean where’s Nora?” “Early shopping, she wanted to buy some things for you since you’re moving in!” Cameron said with a grin.

               Jack spent most of the morning studying Kaitlyn’s work and college schedule in Cameron’s room since tomorrow was Monday, while Cameron played video games in the living room. “God, she’s busy for a college student,” she commented. “Five finance classes four days of the week with a part-time job overlapping a few of those, sheesh. Almost wish Cameron was this busy.”

               A car pulled into the driveway hours later. Oh God, Jack thought, is Nora OK? How has she been holding up? Jack ran downstairs to greet her, dying to see and comfort her wife more than anything. “Kaity! You’re already here!” Nora squealed in excitement, then continued, “I don’t know how much you brought from your house, but I picked up a lot of new clothes and makeup to make sure you feel right at home, okay sweetheart? Aaah this is so exciting!” Jack didn’t expect Nora to be so cheerful, and couldn’t help but smile at her welcoming. Maybe she hasn’t heard the news, Jack thought, quickly trying to erase the concept from her head.

               After Nora unpacked and organized her purchases, she jumped at the first opportunity she had to bond with her presumed to-be daughter-in-law. “Kaitlyn, sweetie, I know how self-sufficient you are with your style, but I would just looooove to be able to do your makeup today since I’ve hardly ever seen you with a clean slate before!” Jack was thrown off-guard. The mental dam she had built to block out her femininity was crumbling, but she couldn’t refuse. “Sure,” she replied, bracing herself for further emasculation.  

               “Open… Close… Liiittle wider,” Nora repeated simple commands out loud as she dolled up Jack’s face. “Aaand, voilà!” she exclaimed 20 minutes later. “I kept it simple, Kaity. What do you think?” Jack pursed her lips to spread the faint pink lipstick, getting a clear look at her face for the first time in 24 hours. “W-wow,” she breathed, knowing she’d have to give an over-the-top reaction to make Nora happy.

               “I absolutely love it, Nora! Thank you so much!” Jack cheered, giving Nora a hug, surprised at how convincing she sounded with Kaitlyn’s voice. “Hahaha aww, sweetheart, I’m so glad,” Nora chuckled, then continued, “We’re going to be eating out tonight to celebrate your moving in – at your favorite sushi place!” Jack wasn’t sure how enthusiastically she should’ve reacted, so she simply said, “Wow, I can’t wait!”

               As the day went on, Jack took the hints to change into nicer clothes before going out to dinner. She kept the jeans on, but traded the white top for a frilly short-sleeved T-shirt, even though the sight of Kaitlyn’s bare skin was still unsettling. The family prepared for a traditional Asian dinner, where everyone would happily take food from any plate laid on the table. Jack was hesitant to dig in, never having been a fan of seafood.

               “Don’t hold back babe, this night is for you,” Cameron said, handing Jack a pair of chopsticks. Here we go again, Jack thought, slowly bringing a sushi roll to her face. Her eyes widened as it squished between her tongue and the roof of her mouth – Kaitlyn’s taste buds adored the food, sending overwhelmingly positive energy to Jack’s brain. Oh my God, so good! “Aah it’s so good!” she blurted, scarfing down the food faster than the original Kaitlyn. “Whoa, save some for us,” Cameron joked. The family ate and chatted the night away, and Jack felt happiness for the first time in Kaitlyn’s body.

               “Ooooh my goodness, I’m stuffed!” Jack exclaimed, falling onto Cameron’s bed shortly after coming home. “Me too, me too,” Cameron replied. “Too bad we got school tomorrow.” Cameron began to undress, bringing Jack’s mind back to reality. Before she could react, Cameron crawled over her. “I’d love to rip that cute li’l shirt off,” he said in a low, husky voice. Jack’s heart began racing – she was nowhere near prepared for this. “I…I…” Jack’s voice cracked as she tried to speak up, “I-I really need to sleep, Monday’s are so busy…” she finished, sliding out from under Cameron to look for her pajamas.

               Fuck, fuck, fuck, no way in hell, Jack was practically panting in her thoughts. I have to change clothes in front of him, don’t I? Damn it all. The anxiety of her situation hit her almost as hard as it did in the motel. Cameron was noticeably grumpy, making Jack feel even worse. She remembered to wash her makeup off at the last second before turning in for the night, wondering if she could ever get used to being a girl.

               Jack drowned herself in her new workload over the week, pleasantly surprised by how refreshing the feeling of work felt. She did her best to embrace womanhood in small steps, and began to wear girlier clothing on Tuesday, followed by applying her own makeup on Wednesday. By the end of the week, Jack almost thought she’d regained control of her life.

               Tragedy struck when she came home Friday evening. Cameron and Nora were huddled on the couch, crying their eyes out. The sight alone was enough to make Jack’s eyes water. She silently approached them, joining their embrace on the couch.

               “He’s gone,” Nora eked out with a loud sniffle. “Jack’s gone. The search team pronounced him dead.” The words hit Jack like a truck – she buried her head into Nora’s shoulder, unable to stop her tears. I’m right here, Nora! I’m right here! was what she was dying to say. I never left you guys! The family sobbed together for what felt like hours before Nora spoke up again. She stroked Jack’s hair, saying “The funeral will be next week, sweetheart. I wish you got to know him more, he was such a loving husband and father…”

               I’m here for both of you. I’ll always be here for you guys. The same thoughts cycled through Jack’s mind throughout the silent night. Her resolve strengthened overnight, and the purpose of her life became clear. She was put on this earth for Nora and Cameron. Her sex didn’t matter, her age didn’t matter, and her appearance didn’t matter. Her family meant everything, and she was going to be with them until the end.

               “Cameron,” Jack began later that night once they were in bed together, “I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you and I’m very proud of you.” She wanted that to be her final fatherly line, knowing that she couldn’t keep viewing him as her son if she wanted to make either of them happy. “Thanks babe, love you too,” Cameron chuckled, kissing Jack’s lips.

               Jack woke up early that Saturday morning and gave Nora a hug from behind. “Nora,” she began in the same tone as last night, wanting to speak to her as a wife one last time, “I can’t begin to thank you for how much you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget any of it. I love you so much, and I will do everything I can to support our little family.” “Oooh, Kaitlyn, sweetheart…” Nora began, touched by her words. The women’s eyes watered as Nora turned to hug Jack properly.

               Jack continued to break down her mental barriers throughout the slow day, trying her best to think of herself as Kaitlyn. “I’m not Jack, not anymore,” she whispered to herself in the mirror, forcing a smile. “I’m Kaitlyn. I don’t need to be a man to keep my family happy… I need to be a girlfriend and a daughter. That is what I am. I am...Kaitlyn.” She ran her fingers down and around her body, accepting all of the feminine features she had been trying her best to reject over the past week.

               Later that night, Kaitlyn opened her legs for Cameron, knowing he needed the relief. Her body trembled as Cameron crawled on top, kissing and pinching her from head to toe before teasing her clit. You’re a good son, Cameron. You deserve this… Kaitlyn instinctively thought as she groaned from the foreign pleasure. He’s not my son anymore. Not my son, I’m a woman. Make me a woman, Cameron…!

               Kaitlyn screamed at the first hint of penetration. Cameron’s strong arms pinned her shoulders to the bed. One of her hands cupped a breast while the other stimulated her clit as Cameron rocked back and forth, slowly getting deeper. The schlicking, pounding, moaning, and squeaking of the bed became louder and louder, muffling her scattered thoughts. It felt like hours before Cameron pulled out and erupted all over her face, forcing her eyes shut. She howled as she finished her own climax minutes later as Cameron cleaned up, unable to feel or move her legs. Her mind plunged deeper into femininity, giving Kaitlyn another accomplishment from the experience.

               So this is how it feels… Kaitlyn smacked her lips, awkwardly trying to clean her face without swallowing any cum. Cameron helped before cuddling up next to her, ready to fall asleep. Kaitlyn fell asleep in his arms, silently appreciating his strong, warm security.

               Days flew by for Kaitlyn, as she was absorbed in her work and bettering herself for her family, always making progress toward becoming the person she had to be. Before long, she was getting mani-pedis with Nora and snuggling up with Cameron for movies. Many tears were shed at the funeral, but Kaitlyn stayed strong and uplifted her family as much as she could.

               As weeks passed, excitement grew for Kaitlyn’s college graduation. Cameron and Nora suggested all sorts of parties and vacations they could go on, but Kaitlyn shook her head. “As long as I’m with you guys, I don’t want anything big or special,” she said during the weekend they planned to celebrate. She got her wish – the family prepared a simple picnic that Saturday and headed out to the wilderness on Sunday to enjoy it.

               Excited as ever, Kaitlyn made herself extra attractive for the occasion. She wore a tight, low-cut, zebra-patterned tube top and a short dark skirt, loving the feeling of the sun on her skin. “You look so beautiful, babe,” Cameron commented as they walked, holding hands. Nora walked far behind them, enjoying nature. “Just for you, handsome,” Kaitlyn said with a cheesy wink. The couple exchanged a kiss and gazed into each other’s eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, hon,” Kaitlyn breathed, enjoying Cameron’s embrace.

               At the end of the picnic, Nora pulled saran-wrapped Teriyaki-glazed meatballs and small vegetables skewers out of the basket. Everyone understood the message, and enjoyed them with extra appreciation. Kaitlyn volunteered to clean up while Cameron and Nora took a lap on the trail to play Pokémon GO, giving her some alone time to reflect on herself. The tiring weeks were successful in fading her memories as the man, Jack, but the final meal brought many of them back to light.

               The more Kaitlyn thought about her previous life, the more she realized how successful she was in her goal. She didn’t see Nora as a romantic partner, and loved her solely as a family member and motherly figure. On the other hand, her romance grew for Cameron with every passing day. The notion of Cameron being her son felt preposterous, and she wanted nothing more than to grow old with him.

               Kaitlyn thought back to the first days of her transformation, remembering how much she hated seeing any trace of her body. And now she loved it. Like any girl, she adored looking good and feeling a fresh breeze blow between two slender legs. Touch my legs! Kaitlyn giggled at a thought from last week when she commanded Cameron to feel her just-shaven legs. You’ve done it, Jack. You’ve really done it, she thought. You’ve become a young woman through and through.

              “Hey Kait!” Kaitlyn heard Cameron call as he sprinted up to her. “You okay?” he asked, noticing that she had hardly put anything away from their picnic. “Oh, haha yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit,” she responded. “Now what could a brainiac like you be spacing out about?” Cameron asked in a lower voice. “Well, I can think of someone,” Kaitlyn replied in a similar tone. She wrapped her arms around Cameron’s head and back as they made out, loving everything that her new life had to offer.

That’s a wrap~ There are very few stories I’ve worked on as long as this one, so I hope you enjoyed. Thank you for reading. Thank you so, so much. :)

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RC = race change, AR = age regression