#i actually do have a draft of a couple attacks i did a few days ago but im procrastinating on the ids aurghg.h....

[monotone-artist]

[id in alt]

some wip junk, i loveee being inconsistent with how i draw characters. also shadow with the terios scar because the implications of that are. hm. very interesting

[kaiowut99]

Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters GX Episodes 115 & 116 Subbed (Finalized)

(Previously: Episodes 113-114 Subbed [Finalized])

(Check out my Subbed!GX Stream Masterpost!)

TURN-115: Giese the Spirit Hunter

Cobra's second assassin was sent after Judai and the others--that assassin being Giese, who is capable of seeing Spirits. He captures Sapphire Pegasus, one of the Gem Beasts, alive and uses him to coerce them into dueling. In Judai's stead, due to his exhaustion of stamina, Johan confronts him, and a duel between Johan and Giese begins. Giese activates his Hunting Net Counter Trap, as if to hunt down Johan's Gem Beasts, and captures Amethyst Cat. Johan attempts to save his Gem Beasts, but even more traps would await him.

TURN-116: The Gem Beasts VS Hell Gundog

Giese proceeds to capture the Gem Beasts with various Trap Cards, while also summoning his Hell Gundog to pour on the attacks against Johan. Feeling anger at Giese's dirty dueling, Johan starts his counterattack, anticipating his Traps and overcoming them strategically by summoning Topaz Tiger and Emerald Turtle to attack with. Cornered, Giese goes for Johan's weakness, making him hold off on any of his attacks. With Johan unable to interfere with his moves, Giese activates his Substitute Pain Permanent Magic to inflict damage on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sooo, accidentally ran later with these than intended--not helped by realizing while drafting this full release post over the past two days that I missed a couple spots with a few of my usual animation fixes 🙃--buuut with that out of the way, finalized!115-116 are now up and ready to go! This isn't a catch-and-release I promise

These are always a nice pair of episodes in terms of establishing more around Johan's bond with the Gem Beasts and how he sees his relationship to Spirits, as shown as he encountered Tom and when he finds out that Giese was the one who stole his card and Spirit (meanwhile, the dub decided to give them history for reasons); that Pegasus cameo as he introduces them to the Gem Beasts was always cool, and his "Jesus!" line is iconic haha. Also notable for showing the start of the "What am I dueling for?" question starting to stir within Judai's head after his duel with Satou (which is also conspicuously absent from the dub). Always did find Giese's ultimate fate after Johan crushes him--to "Camula's Theme," at that, which always slaps (and is especially nice given the easter egg that Johan's VA, Kanako Irie, also voiced Camula)--a bit ambiguous since we never do follow up with him, but it is implied the Spirits he hunted (and the one he actually saw as a friend?) either consumed him or took him to the Spirit World or what-have-you; I wonder if they would've added a quick follow-up had they had some room in the episode runtime.

Animation error-wise, well, that was part of the reason for the delay, as overall I handled about 31 throughout both episodes, split roughly evenly between them; varied from smaller quality-of-watching things like split-screen timings (with some border errors mixed in, at that) to card errors (moreso in 116 given how often Hell Gundog wound up on Johan's Disk...) making up the bulk of them, along with helping Topaz Tiger see better well good in 115's preview for 116 due to an error with his eye. Given the amount of fixes worked on, as with 113-114, I'll once again go through the usual edit breakdown in this separate post for the interested!

Anywho, enjoy! Up next, I'll hopefully be working on the Judai vs Cobra three-parter in 117-119 together; I'll be detouring back to TFSP to work on Crow's events in the 5D's character stories, mixing in some work on 117-119 as I go. In particular, looking forward to revisiting 119 since it's a favorite (between the art/animation, music, Cobra's message to Judai echoing Satou coming back later... *chef's kiss*), but 117 will also be interesting for the Yubel/Amon interaction, and of course the surprise fight sequence! Stay tuned!

[kalianos]

A rant of the last two months.

So I looked at a lot of my draft posts. The ones for the last month and a half were kinda Venting about the new corp I joined in Eve Online.

To be fair, I learned a mutual friend who has a habit of starting things then just...not taking control as a leader and lets things die as a result was starting it.

soooo yeah. That happened. Only one logging in now. ~_~

"It'll be great Kali! Getting back into Eve Kali! We should try doing FW and small gang pvp! Hey isn't it weird how you are the only cis guy in this corp?" yeah sure, except one problem. You dragged a bunch of newbies who never played before into it. As all Newbies tend to do, they are for some reason scared of pvp and losing ships. HELL ONE OF THEM THINKS THAT DOING PVP WAS THE SAME AS HARMING SOMEONE AND COULDN'T BEAR IT!

So we ended up turning into a Mining and Industry Corp. Except I was one of the few paid accounts. So I was the only one who could reliably skill into to building things. Okay I still can't get over the lack of wanting to PVP in the game built on it.

...a bit fucked up way of thinking but there was always mining and industry I guess? no. I spent, hundreds of millions on BPO's and started doing research material and time development which takes ages. We do a mining op, they manage to...somehow not know how to read? "Oh the sleepers are back!" Well I already took care of them in an Orca. Do it again!

No they are Drifters. Webbed, scrammed, disrupted. Trapped and couldn't warp off in an extremely large bulky slow ship. -_- 2.5billion down the drain. It was cool seeing the explosion though. Then slowly everyone started petering off one by one.

Our scared to pvp person went exploring in the pvp areas and was shocked that..they were attacked and managed to escape with their pod. They felt sick at the idea of shooting at a player. V: like...no seriously wtf? This is EVE. Everyone Vs. Everyone. Market pvp, Industry pvp, MINING PVP. Yes Mining pvp is a thing. Its called putting on the highest yield risk mining crystal and just sneaking into enemy territory asteroid field and just going to town destroying their asteroid resources so they can't build ships!

The Hauler did two contracts for us, and dipped. ...best fifty mil wasted?

Two of our number thought it was weird that the game didn't just automatically played itself? Like auto-target and then auto-fire? ...those modules exist but thats too much.

the lead and their girlfriend don't show up anymore so. Its just me in this corp? AFter spending so many skill points and isk in industry since "You are now the industry lead!"

Back on track learning how to pilot Triglavian ships and Edencom stuff since thats what I wanted to begin with.

Now I am in a dead corp with nobody logging in and my isk and LP is being taxed heavily to a corporation that no longer even functionally exists. Except as a blackmark in my job history in the game as "Why were you in this Corp. for only a few months after leaving your starter corp after nearly 14 years?"

BEcauseI got tired of helping people out in the newbie corp and wanted to hang out with friends! ....who immediate flaked out and left. And my other MMO friends won't touch EVe with a ten foot pole. "We don't understand it." -_-; Game is so much easier now than it was back then.

I wish....I wish I could just clone myself and have mini-me's running around non-stop. ....actually thats a bad idea. I don't understand Reactions in industry too well and I've only just started doing PLanetary industry setup after years of having the skills trained.

MAybe it would just be nice if people logged the fuck in and we could hang out. "My new job doesn't fit in with the weekly group up so I won't log in at all" >:V oh fuck off.

Screw this, I'm going into Wormhole space and find a Wormhole crew living in that insane spaghetti mess of systems and run C3's to earn enough isk in a couple days to buy a month of game time in game.

Or Join Faction Warfare and do the same but also have constant pvp.

Viva la Caldari / Guristas

Or constantly run Abyssal dungeons solo.

I am tired. At least there are a lot of new players coming into the game now? Its refreshing.

[avengestaves]

Follow my blog!

Hello friend, I've decided to start a journal. I don't know if I'm going to keep it here but it will do for now. It seems like time moves faster and faster as I get older. I remember reading that our perception of time is based on markers, like weekends, or holidays. If there's nothing in your daily life that sticks in your memory that time disappears. So the idea is if I take the time to remember my day, to think about it enough to put it in to words, it add significance enough that it sticks in my head, so I have more markers, so time slows down again to the crawl I remember from when I was a kid. Or maybe it inspires me to live a life worth writing about. The point is I'm trying to grab life with both hands here. Time is precious. To precious to do a second draft of this thing. This is first draft only. What I'm telling you is coming stream-of-consciousness plucked right from the brain.

So today I went out and played some disc golf, I did that alone. Maybe don't have enough friends, I just like being on my own time. What I think it is really, I find it hard to be comfortable around other people. I know that human connection is most important factor in living a fulfilling life. I need to work on that.

I enjoyed the game though. I went my favorite park. It wasn't as muddy as I was expecting. The place was flooded last spring when the snow started melting. It was warm enough I could take off my gloves without my fingers freezing off. I played pretty badly, I didn't throw much last year. I played through one other individual, passed by a couple of guys warming up. I should said hi, asked to shoot the round with them, socialized. I thought of it. Chickened out. Crap.

The evening was mainly spent trying to stay motivated enough to keep studying. I'm trying to cram enough knowledge into my brain to pass the CCNA and get non-entry level IT job. Something that pays a real livable wage while letting me play with cables and computer shit. My brain is pretty spongy and good at soaking up information so I think I'm on the right path. I just need to keep at it. It makes me feel like a badass hacker when I clickety clacking on a cisco command line configuring enterprise routers. Good times.

I played a few games of chess. Blundered a rook early in the last one, but I felt like I still had a decent chance and didn't give up. I found a move where I attacked their king with a pawn while revealing an attack on their rook at the same time, that won me back the advantage. I checkmated them a little later. I do love chess. The game of kings.

Then there's this. I think it will be a good habit is I can stick to it. And it let's me pretend that someone is actually listening. I appreciate that friend. Now have yourself a great day and I'll let you in on some more tomorrow.

[merowkittie]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ANSWERING MY REQUEST!!! I HAD TO COME BACK AND ASK SOMETHING ELSE TOO<3

Can I request a Hanako x reader where he finds out his s/o is being bullied??

Like they would be called names by their classmates sometimes and they even have a few close friends who would get violent if they don’t get their way and such

And his s/o tried so hard to hide it as well not wanting him to be concerned. Maybe a little bit of Yandere Hanako and how he would react to this situation!

Thank you!! Headcanons or oneshot is your choice!

I’m so glad you loved it! Hopefully this one is what you were looking for <3 @under-the-cherrytree also I’m sorry it took so long, I’ve been busy :,)

Bro I’m not even gonna lie I forgot abt this so it’s been sitting in my drafts..

Hanako finding out you’re getting bullied!

Tears were streaming down your face as you ran through the halls and into your favorite bathroom. The bathroom that belonged to your friend.. or maybe you were more??

You couldn’t think of that at the moment as so many things bended your mind and flooded your senses.

You felt those salty tears go into your mouth and into your nose. Your face was hot and your head was pounding.

The faucet ran cold water and you splashed it repeatedly onto your face. The water went down your neck and spilled onto your dress.

No cares filled your head though because all you wanted was for everyone and everything to go away.

You looked into the mirror and saw your reflection.

Your cheeks were burning, eyes red and puffy and your lips trembling. Your curls were sticking out in different direction and the glossy lip gloss you were wearing was smudged.

“I really am a mess, aren’t I?” You mumbled to yourself with a dry chuckle.

And as those words you left you could feel the hairs on your neck rise as a loud voice rang out.

“How dare you! My Y/n, you aren’t a mess!” The ghost yelled out.

“Hanako! What did I tell you about Privacy!” You pouted at the boy whilst drying off your face with a paper towel.

Hanako was going to say something but stopped. He took a good look at you and his brows furrowed.

“What happened to you?” He stopped floating and stood in front of you, hesitant to do anything.

You didn’t want to say anything, but you know how persistent he can be.. You made eye contact with him and melted.

“Don’t do anything stupid?” You asked, giving him a knowing look.

“..Ok! Sure!”

Not convincing but ok.

“It was just a few bullies. Nothing more really.” You smiled at him.

“Obviously it’s more than that if you’re in here crying and.. is that a black eye??” Hanako practically growled at you.

“Calm down! It’ll go away in like.. a week? I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Calm down? When someone’s hurting you?!” He sucked in a breath, “You’re not ok! And you’ve been avoiding me these last few days if I may add..” he pouted like a puppy and crossed his arms.

“Hanako, you’re overreacting! You have other ppl to talk to like Nene, Kou.. the other wonders!” You smiled at his pouting figure, “Besides.. I just don’t see what you see in me.”

His eyebrows shut up and his jaw dropped.

“Y/n/n! You know I adore your presence! You don’t try to attack or hit me every five seconds! And you’re not clingy like Tsukasa, and you actually don’t complain about cleaning the bathroom.. sometimes.” He exclaimed loudly.

But then it went silent.

“Hey! You distracted me there for a second.. tell me what’s really happening though, Y/n! It’s not right.. I don’t like when I see you hurt..” he looked at his shoes, away from you, “Especially since I can’t do anything about it.. it makes my blood boil.��

Your eyes go wide and it goes silent again. Just the small sounds of the water dripping out of the faucet.

“Hanako.. I’ve been dealing with this for years. I’m used to it! It’s just.. you know how only a couple of us can really see you? One of the girls found out I talk to ‘myself’ in here soo you know! She kinda just started saying I’m crazy, I’m talking to ghosts and you know how this goes.” You showed him your red knuckles, “So I punched her and she punched me back.” You laughed at that, making Hanako let out a small chuckle as well.

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you know I cherish you more than anything on this earth.. so please tell me if anything’s going on from now on?”

Your eyes soften at the boy and you kid your head with a smile.

“I will, Hanako.”

(This shit was ass bro … 😭)

[dulafer]

The CEO

Guys, here’s a ‘new’ one but very similar to my previous stories. I’m running out of inspiration? If you know of any hot suited studs on Instagram or somewhere, let me know. It’s a rough draft, so if you see errors, have questions, let me know - dclouser@mac.com

This is about a CEO needing some help from his brother, and his brother helping himself to his brother’s CEO life. 

Here’s the link to the final version:     https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mugjKu33rJUndXGHavghmiL7q83_YaRp/view?usp=sharing

VISITATION

I was once a rising financial superstar on Wall Street, making people millionaires overnight, loved by all, but that was years ago—I’m all but forgotten. A year before my release from the Brookhaven Prison Camp, I’m lead to a private visitor’s room and shocked to see my brother Parker and another gentleman.

“Well, well, well… Dumb, and you must be Dumber.” I greet them jokingly. The other guy, who looks familiar, jumps up to shake my hand, while Parker actually has a dazed look on his face. 

“Paul, Hi, I’m Shaun Birnley, your brother’s friend and President of Thomas Financial.” Shaun introduces himself then stares at me.

“You’re looking good bro.” Parker pipes up quietly.

“3 Keto meals a day, tennis and some great sex. This is more like a Club Med but without the beaches and alcohol. So what do I owe this visit?” I haven’t had a single visitor in a few years, including from my twin brother. Occasionally I get an email from him but I’ve been forgotten by all my ‘friends’.

Shaun keeps looking back and forth between us. “Shit Parker, this is freaky, he is your twin, no doubt about it. This could actually work.”

“It’s good to finally meet you Shaun, I’ve heard the name but I’ve been here the past 6 years.  What could work? What are you talking about?”

“You’re getting out in a year. We have a proposition for you, a ‘job’ possibly. One that would get you out a lot sooner.” Shaun says. 

“Parker, what the fuck is going on here? I don’t hear from you in years, now you’re both my best friends?  Offering me an early release?” Parker has a blank look on his face. “Parker! Are you high?”

“He’s not feeling well, that’s why we’re here.”

“I have PTSD, just say it Shaun. It’s not a big deal.” Parker explodes.

“Sorry, but you’ve never been in battle, so how in the hell can you have PTSD.”

“A few months ago, your brother was carjacked, robbed at gun point and beat up on the way home from work late one night. Ever since then, he hasn’t been himself.  He’s had a breakdown, is easily confused,  bipolar, panic attacks, sleeping issues, and total lack of focus.” Shaun explains. 

“Did they catch the guy?” I asked.

“No, the police are fucking useless, fucking useless.” Parker snaps awake for a second. 

“I’m so sorry bro. You look good, normal even except for that dazed look.”

“It’s some drugs ‘he’s’ trying but he needs in-person care at a residential treatment center.” Shaun is clearly in charge.

“Zoloft but it puts me in a daze and I can’t sleep at night. I’ve fallen to sleep in the office and almost during the last board meeting.”

“There are quite a few guys here with it, they get drugs and CBT psychotherapy, Cognitive Behavioral something or other. It seems to help.”

“See Parker, and you’ll be in the best PTSD facility in the world.”

“Yeah, in fucking California. God help me.” 

“It’s called ‘The Refuge’ in Big Sur, California.  Best in the world. It’s very private and confidential.” Shaun explains to me.

“You’ll be fine bro. Couple weeks of treatment and you’ll be back to your old self. Big Sur is stunning—.”

“Could be 30-90 days. That’s where the job offer comes in.” Shaun interrupts. “The CEO of Thomas Financial can’t be MIA. There’s talk of replacing Parker already.”

“Oh for god sake Shaun, spit it out. Paul Thomas is already signed up for the Refuge. We’re swapping places. I can’t have it leaking out that I went to the crazy farm for months.”

“Oh, so you need me, that explains all this. This is great. I’ve been invisible for years and now I’m not. Lose your baby for all I care. Fuck off! Guard!” I’m pissed. 

“We’ll make it worth your while. $5 million and a year of your life back.” Shaun yells out, catching my attention. 

“Now you’re talking.” The guard enters and I shoo him away. “I’m fine Timmy.”

“No one can know about this.” Parker demands.

“My ‘Parker’ is kind of rusty but I can do it. So is your therapist forcing you to go?” I have about $1m squirreled away for when I get out, and this $5 million will help. It won’t be enough but it’s a start.

“Hell no, we’re telling his therapist that we’re getting a second diagnosis and that’s all he’s going to know. A friend at the VA highly recommended this place.” Shaun continues to do most of the talking, which is out of character for Parker. 

“Let me think about this. I can stay here another year or get out, play Parker for a few months and make $5 million? I’m in.” I smile and in the back of my mind, the thought of taking over Parker’s life permanently would be the chance of a lifetime. With nothing better to do in prison, I’ve been following Thomas Financial, his career and social media for years. It’s an impressive accomplishment that I never thought he was capable of. I’ve been jealous of his ‘luck’ but will never admit to it.

“We’ll get you up to speed with every little detail of Parker’s personal life and job. I’ll be by your side the whole time too. Guard!”  Shaun yells and the guard comes back. “Tell the warden we’ve come to an agreement.”

“Lets get out of this place.” Parker orders Shaun. He’s trembling oddly. 

“Get whatever you need from your room. You’re leaving right now.” Shaun orders me. 

Back in my room, I let my cell mate Tommy know I’m being sprung from the ‘estate’ as we call it. 

“You’re joking?” Tommy says in disbelief.

“No, my brother is sick and needs my help.”

“Like a kidney?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Here, take this list.” He hands me a list of names. “These folks specialize in areas that could come in handy. Just tell them you’re a friend of mine and they will help.” 

I pack up just my personal belongings like MacBook and clothes. My life basically fits in my duffle bag. I give Tommy a hug and tell him to look me up when he gets out in a year. 

Shaun tosses my bag into the back of his Escalade and we start heading back to New York. Shaun does most of the talking while Parker is barely awake. According to Shaun, the Zoloft allows him to function most of the day but at night he’s violent and lashes out. He’s popping more and more Zoloft. When he does sleep, after popping Xanax, he’s having nightmares. 

A few hours outside of New York we stop at a Hampton Inn for the night. To keep me invisible, Shaun runs out for dinner leaving Parker to keep an eye on me. Trouble is, Parker looks exhausted and in a daze. If I wanted to leave, he couldn’t stop me. I just don’t have anywhere to go. Parker takes off his suit coat, hangs it on the back of the chair and rolls up his sleeves.

TESTING MYSELF

As soon as Shaun leaves, Parker grabs his leather overnight bag, pulls out a toiletry bag and takes out some pill bottles. “I’m not hungry, I’m exhausted, going to bed.”

“What are you taking?”

“Something to help me sleep and help me chill.” He takes pills from the bottles and I offer to put them back. One bottle is Zoloft, another is Xanax and the last is Ambien. I’m not quite sure what all he’s taking or what the effects of mixing them could be. Also in his bag, I notice his razor, toothbrush, cologne, deordorant and ‘Uppercrust Pomade’. 

“Parker is this safe? Mixing these?” 

“Shut up, you’re sounding like Shaun.” He dismisses me, struggling to even speak. 

“Let’s get you to your room.” A devious test comes to mind—fooling Shaun tonight.

I help him across the hall and help him get undressed. This room was suppose to be mine according to Shaun but Parker is so out of it, he doesn’t notice the switch. Parker climbs into bed and passes out in minutes. I quickly strip out of my clothes and start putting on the outfit he was just wearing. I slip on every item, starting with his still warm boxer briefs, socks, then gray dress pants, shirt and tie. Everything is a perfect fit. I lean over his body and remove his Omega watch and class ring to add to my identity. Finally, I step into his shoes and I add his vest, making sure to leave the top button undone. 

“You look great Parker.” I say to myself in the mirror as Parker is snoring away. I haven’t worn anything like this in years but it feels empowering. I check my rolled up shirt sleeves, fix my shirt collar and take in Parker’s identity.

Back in ‘my’ room, I unroll my sleeves, put his suit coat back on, noticing it’s a perfect fit.  In the suit pockets I feel his wallet and iPhone to go through later. I dig through my brother’s leather bag and find  a change of clothes for tomorrow. I look at my new watch and see it’s been 30 minutes since Shaun left. I spritz on some cologne then work his pomade into my hair, making sure I replicate his distinct part. My hair is a little longer but its not noticeable when I slick it back like he wears it. His razor come in handy to shorten my sideburns a little. I finish my transformation just in time as Shaun knocks at my door.

“Hang on.” I mumble, toning done my energy level to match Parker’s. Shaun comes in carrying bags of BBQ and a six pack of beer. 

He looks around the room. “Where’s the jailbird?”

“He said he wasn’t hungry, was exhausted and went to bed?” 

“Then he can have it for breakfast. I got you the baby backs of course, with baked beans. The place was packed so it must be good.”

“Perfect, I’m starving.”  I dig into bag and help myself to a beer. 

“Beer? With Zoloft?” Shaun questions me.

“Do you have wine?” I quip back knowing Parker rarely drinks beer. “A few sips, some Zoloft and Ambien. I’ll be set for the night.” I grin at him.

“Okay, I’ll be dragging you out of bed in the morning. You don’t think he’d run off on us do you?”

“Nah, he needs the money and where would he go? Plus, his entire life is in that duffel bag.” I point to my bag on the floor. “I also watched  thru the peephole after he went to his room.”

Just then my cell phone rings with the ID showing ‘Taylor’. I answer it without hesitation. “Taylor…. Everything is fine… Uh huh, yeah he’s right here.”  I hold the phone up and Shaun shouts “We’re fine, be back tomorrow. Don’t worry.”

I take back control of the call, talk another minute and hang up. Taylor must be security for me, checking on me. Neither Taylor or Shaun suspect a thing with my performance. I wipe my mouth with a napkin, then open my duffle bag, pull out ‘my’ drugs and pop some pills. They’re tucked under my tongue and I spit them out when Shaun turns his head for a minute. 

“So you think this will work?” Shaun questions.

“It has to or I’m in trouble.” I note, acting as if the drugs are kicking in.

“You’ll definitely be out as CEO, they’d have to keep me for a while.” He laughs nervously. 

I’m not sure of the details but act like I do. “Wouldn’t that be a twist.”

“I’ll trot him out for meetings, luncheons and the next board meeting but you’ll be back before it I’m sure. I’ll keep an eye on him, keep him under control and tell him what to say. I’m worried about something else.”

“What’s that?”

“I was trying to tell you two apart all day and I can’t. The only difference is how you’re dressed and your hair.”

“We’re identical twins. No one ever could, not even our parents.” I explain.

“That’s the problem. How can I tell, just in case he pulls some shit on us?”

“What would he possibly do?” I ask.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ve seen too many Lifetime movies where the evil twin kills the good twin to assume his identity.”

I chuckle. “Well, there’s one difference between us. I do have a small scar on the back of my leg.” I lift up my pant leg and show him my scar. “Got it trying to ride a minibike when I was 13. It’s hardly noticeable but is something.”

“No, something easier and less noticeable than having to see your scar. How about a simple wink if I call you ‘Stefan’?”

I’m curious why he knows Parker's middle name. “We’ll never need it.”

“Just humor me, ‘Stefan’.” He stresses my brother’s middle name as if it’s an order. “If I refer to you as Stefan you respond with some subtle action.”

“Fine, but I’m not winking at you. I’ll do this.” I take my hand and run it through my hair above my ear. I’ve seen Parker do it a few times today, especially when he seems stressed out. 

“Stefan” Shaun calls me and I run my hand through my hair. From now on, in Shaun’s mind, I’ll be Parker with our secret identity test and my scar. 

I yawn, stretch my arms out. “Hey, the sleeping pills are kicking in.”

“Get some sleep buddy.” Shaun gets up, grabs the beer and heads to his room next to mine. “Lets meet for breakfast at 8am.”

Once I’m alone, I start going through my phone, checking text messages and emails. Taylor is his body guard per some emails I find. He was hired a few months ago after the attack. There’s email from doctors at the Refuge about helping ‘Paul Thomas’. His FaceBook and Instagram entertains me for another hour before I pass out at midnight. 

I wasn’t allowed a phone in Prison but I did have computer access. It allowed me to follow Parker and Thomas Financial for years. My plan, once I was out, was to disappear and start a new life. I had no intention of ever talking to Parker again but now that I see how fucked up he is, and how he’s ruining his life, I have a better option. Parker isn’t giving me a job, he’s giving me his life.

I make sure I’m up early before anyone else and take a quick shower. I pack up Parker’s stuff and head across the hall. He’s still sleeping as I strip out of his clothes, return his jewelry and dress as myself. I start waking him, help get him into the shower, then dressed and down to the hotel lobby early for breakfast. With his hair gelled and mine product free, we’ll look totally different to Shaun. Parker doesn’t ‘remember’ the BBQ he had for dinner but says it’s normal for him these days—a side effect of the drugs keeping him calm. I tell him I didn’t eat, that I crashed before everyone. He accepts everything I tell him. 

We’re up early having breakfast, catching up so I start prying into Parker’s and Shaun’s relationship. I knew they were classmates at Penn and Wharton, and Parker hired him when he started Thomas Financial. Parker adds his history with Shaun. Shaun is married to Susan and they have a 5 year old daughter named Hanna. Parker was his best man six years ago. 

He confides their biggest secret to me—how they met and became friends. At their first frat party, Parker hit on Shaun and tried kissing him. He had a crush on Shaun, assumed he was gay or bi, and they both were drunk and high. Shaun thought it was funny, that his girlfriend at the time had put Parker up to it. Shaun has never told Susan because it’s embarrassing for Parker. It hurt when he mentions that Shaun is like a brother to him. I don’t complain and let him go on and on about their relationship.

Shaun shows up late and starts probing me about prison and my education. We eat quickly and fly home. I was worried that my little game last night would be discovered but the entire trip home, nothing came up. Parker even thanked Shaun for the BBQ, even though he had no memory of it. My theory is that Parker said it to appear normal. Shaun drops us off and takes off. Taylor always has weekends off since Parker’s gated community has its own security. From the looks of it, there’s more security here than at the white collar prison I just left.

AT HOME

“Make yourself at home bro. My bedroom is at the top of the stairs to the right, yours is across the hall. Why don’t you take a shower and help yourself to anything in my closet.” Parker offers as we walk into the foyer.  The place is very contemporary as is Parker’s style. It’s been professionally decorated because it’s too detailed. After a quick tour of his home, I take a shower then head to his closet to find something to wear. We may have similar tastes in home furnishings but we dress very differently. I’m more jeans and t-shirts and he’s more preppy. 

I’m overwhelmed when I enter his closet. It’s the size of four prison cells. There’s rows of suits, coats, shirts and wall of ties and shoes. I leaf through his clothes and try on a few sport and suit coats. Everything is a perfect fit. In his bedroom I find socks and underwear in a dresser, and jewelry in a free standing jewelry chest. I slip into tan skinny jeans and knit shirt, similar to what he has on. For shoes I grab a pair tan Chelsea boots.

Downstairs I find Parker stretched out on the sofa watching something on the TV. He seems to be in a daze.

“Ahem… you okay?”

“Oh yeah, just thinking about everything. My life was going perfect. I’m making gobs of money, I started dating this great guy and the business is running itself.”

“Your life looks fine, nothing has changed has it?”

“I’m having nightmares of a gun being shoved in my face, being kicked to the garage floor and laying there for what seemed hours till someone found me. I can barely function at work. If it weren’t for the drugs, I’d be cowering under my desk most of the day.”

“Well, therapy will help, I promise. I’ve seen plenty of guys with it in prison and they are fine now. My biggest concern is not fucking up your life while you’re away.”

“I’ve got two weeks to turn you into me.” He looks at me. “Let’s get haircuts.”

I follow him to the garage and I’m shocked at his automobile collection. There’s an BMW X5, Corvette, BMW 550i and 911 Targa. We jump in the X5 and he drives us further out of the city. He finds a Supercuts that’s busy and while we wait, I start questioning him about his life.

“Shaun will be the only person in on this scheme?” I ask.

“Yeah, he’s the only one. The board is already in revolt over my condition. If they found out I was admitting myself for therapy, I’d be ousted and Shaun would probably be made CEO.”

“How am I going to handle your job?”

“When we get back, I’ll show you everything you’ll need to know. My home office set up is basically a copy of my office. The computers are linked so if I create a file at work, it’s also on my desktop when I get home. Our company dashboard is there too. I’ll need to get you into my office tomorrow while no one is there.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“That’s easy, he’s in China on assignment and we sort of ended it. His name is David, we met at Ken and John’s wedding months ago. He hasn’t called or emailed in a over a week.”

“Friends?”

“Ken, John, Woody and Colin.”

“Who’s your best friend?” I probe.

“Colin, we dated for a year then decided we were better off as friends. He moved to Soho, with his boyfriend, doesn’t visit as much as he use to. You’ll have to attend the opening of ‘Oklahoma’ on Broadway in a few weeks. His boyfriend is one of the producers, got us front row seats.”

“A musical, how gay is that?” I laugh at him. 

“Don’t laugh, its Jeff’s life, Colin’s boyfriend. I don’t like Jeff and Colin knows it, but I told him I’m being supportive.”

“Okay, got it.” I become serious just as our stylist comes and gets us. 

They seat us side by side. They wash my hair, cut it and trim my eyebrows and match him completely. He’s stunned by my transformation. We’re identical down to every details now. On the way home we stop for dinner, then a cheap burner phone for myself. 

Back at home, Parker takes me to his home office and starts teaching me about his work life. He goes through some emails, then the dashboard and finally pics of key people he deals with. He writes down his passwords for all his work and personal websites.

Hours later, Parker takes his medication, rinses it down with some scotch, then heads to bed. He’s in his room when his phone rings. I’m curious as I hear ‘Shaun’ and sneak up to the bedroom door and eavesdrop on them.

“I got him cleaned up today… haircut, eyebrow trim and manicure…he’s perfect… I’ll work with him tomorrow, then send him to the office.” There’s a pause. “Oh that would be better… I’ll let him know. See ya tomorrow.”

I quickly run back to my room and start playing with my new phone. Parker comes in a few minutes later. 

“So here’s the plan for tomorrow. Shaun will pick you up tomorrow morning and take you into the office, show you around and groom you.”

“That makes sense. Who would question the CEO and the President in the office working on some things.”

“Exactly. I was just going to drive you there, draw you a map and let you figure it out.”

I can see the glassiness in his eyes as he’s standing there—the effects of the Zoloft and Scotch. He heads to his bedroom. Thirty minutes later I check on him and he’s snoring like a bear. I take his phone off his nightstand and head down to ‘my’ home office. I spend hours going thru the Thomas Financial system, getting more at ease with it. I take a break and head to the garage to admire my automobile collection. They’re too tempting sitting there, so I run to his bedroom, grab his wallet, leather jacket and take the Corvette out for a spin. At first I drive through the neighborhood, checking out the features. Later I jump on the freeway, getting it up to 80 mph. I play with the voice commands with “Take me to the office.” I’m rerouted to Manhattan and decide to check out my office. It takes me a while to maneuver around the parking garage but I find the Thomas Financial parking area and my own reserved spot. 

I have no clue what I’m doing but as I approach the main lobby, the doors unlock for me and security greets ‘Mr. Thomas’. I smile a hello, and see the elevator off to the right. All I know is that  Thomas Financial’s offices are on the 40th floor and Parker has a corner office.

Like the lobby doors, the elevators open before I even press a button and I’m automatically taken to the 40th floor, to the lobby for Thomas Financial. There must be an RFID chip in my wallet handling my access. Not far from the lobby I spot a large corner office and see ‘Parker Thomas’ stenciled on the door that unlocks as I approach. ‘This is too easy’ I think to myself as I enter and take the helm of Thomas Financial. I’m there for a few hours checking out every nook of the office, including his private bathroom and closet. I log in as he taught me and continue learning the system. Before leaving for the night, I walk around the entire floor, checking out offices of ‘my’ employees.

I’m home before midnight and return everything as it was. First Shaun and now the security people at Thomas Financial have met the new Parker Thomas without knowing. 

CEO AND PRESIDENT

The next morning Parker is up before me. I hear him in the living room watching the news so I jump in the shower, then help myself to a casual Sunday outfit for my office visit. It’s  vintage, preppy Parker—wool dress pants, orange cashmere v-neck sweater, white dress shirt and the black Chelsea boots he had on yesterday. I walk down stairs ready for the day, only to find Parker half asleep on the sofa.

“Bro? Is this appropriate for the office?” I use his typical lingo on him. “You okay?”

He stirs a little, half awake. “Oh sorry, I could use another few hours of sleep today. That Zoloft is wicked shit. You look fine, it’s exactly what I’d wear on a Sunday. I have a gray plaid sport coat that would look great with it.”

“No, it’s the mixing of Zoloft, sleeping pills and scotch that’s wicked Bro.”  I chuckle. “Then go back to bed, I’m the one going into the office today with my president.” 

“Oh shit, yeah have fun with that.” He goes to stand up and wobbles a little.

“You didn’t take anything else did you?” I question him. 

“Just a Xanax to relax me. It helps me sleep.” He answers.

“Bro, I’ll bet you shouldn’t be taking Xanax while still on Zoloft, it’ll kill you.”

“I’m fine, I’ll sleep it off. Wake me up when you get home, we’ll run for lunch.”

“Hey, while I’m thinking of it, give me your class ring and watch, and where’s your wallet?”

“It’s upstairs.” He slips off his ring and watch, and hands them to me.

I follow behind him as he crawls into bed. In his closet I find the sport coat he suggested. I tuck his wallet and iPhone in the breast pockets. His wallet is just where I left it last night when I got home. With my class ring and watch in place, my identity as Parker is perfect. Back downstairs I grab his coffee cup, heat it up, plop myself in front of the TV and continue his morning. I’m the spitting image of Parker.

A few minutes later the door bell rings, it’s got to be Shaun for me. I get up, grab my coffee and greet him at the door. 

“Morning Bro, ready to meet your new CEO?” I greet him using ‘bro’ as Parker had done at breakfast yesterday and take a sip of my coffee. “Want a cup?”

“Ah yeah, I could use some caffeine this morning.” He says frustrated.

“Bad night?”

“Yeah, monsters under Hanna’s bed just as I was going to get ‘some’ action, first time in a month. She ran into the bedroom without warning and jumped in bed, right on top of us. I was the middle of a sandwich, and not a sexy sandwich.”

I just laugh at him as I pop a k-cup into the machine and find a mug. “So you okay doing this today?”

“Sure, why not? It’ll just be Thomas Financial’s CEO and President working together on some things on a Sunday morning. I should take Paul to Ferry Point for 18 holes, where you do most of your work.” He laughs at his joke thinking he’s talking to Parker. 

“If only you were as good.” I reply back.

“Didn’t I beat your ass just a few weeks ago? Can he play golf? Any good?”

“I’m sure he hasn’t played in 6 years but he was a decent golfer before prison.”

“Great, golf will be a great excuse for keeping him away from the office as much as possible. At least for a few weeks before it gets too cold.” 

“So what all are you going to cover with him?”

“Just the basics, like where things are, who’s who and walk him through our system.”

“I drew him a map, was just going to set him free to explore since there shouldn’t be anyone there today but this is better for him.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to see some of Joel’s marketing people in the office.” Shaun looks at his watch. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Right in front of you, Bro.” I smile wickedly.

“Well, Fuck me!” I never would have guessed it. “Fuck! Where’s Parker?”

“The dumb shit was drinking Scotch last night before popping his Zoloft and some type of sleeping pills. He got up this morning, took a Xanax which knocked him out again. He just went to bed about 30 minutes ago. His doctor is giving him all those drugs?”

“No, his doctor only prescribed the Zoloft, that rest are from his buddy Greg, who’s a pharmacist. He was just going to let Greg ‘treat him’ after the car jacking, but I realized something else was off and forced him to see Dr. Pomme.”

I shake my head in fake concern. “Well, let’s get to the office. He wants me back by noon to do lunch.”

“How about you follow me, so you learn your way there.  Take his X5, it’s his new toy, and he’s not bored with it yet.”

“Sure, I haven’t driven in years but I’m a decent driver, at least I was, and my license is expired.” Shaun shakes his head in disbelief.

We get to the office and I act as though this is all new to me. He explains the RFID card security and that Parker has one in his wallet. I don’t tell him I have Parker’s wallet and watch him handle everything. We walk in and he walks me around the floor, showing where everything is—conference rooms, break room, accounting, marketing, IT, sales and the executive offices. 

He quickly shows me his office, which is right next to mine that I didn’t notice last night. In my office he has me sign in as Parker and walks me through the system. He shows me a few new tricks then starts reviewing their current business and projects. Between Shaun and Parker, I’m learning quite a lot. When he anxiously checks his watch after a few hours, I suggest we leave, that I have a few weeks to learn everything and he agrees.

We walk out together, get in the cars and pull out of the parking lot. When I lose him in New York traffic, I turn around and head back to the office. I’m really curious about Parker’s life and want to spend as much time as possible learning about it. I noticed Parker’s briefcase behind the driver’s seat and take it in with me. Back in ‘my’ office I study the content of it. There’s more prescription drugs, including more Zoloft and Xanax. There’s an iPad, files and portfolio. I’m there a few more hours, about to leave when Colin calls me.

When he finds out I’m in Manhattan, I’m invited to Darcy’s, a restaurant in SoHo, for lunch with him and Jeff. I accept, jump back in the X5 and head there. I keep it short, claiming a work emergency. I ease into Parker’s personal life effortlessly, playing Parker flawlessly. It’s easy as Jeff talks and talks about opening night, that there’s a cast party after with a ton of celebrities. I really didn’t have to do anything but look the part and laugh at how clueless they both are. I excuse myself, pick up the tab and head home. 

I walk into a quiet house and head upstairs to check on Parker. The shower in running so I return his jewelry and wallet to his dresser.

“Hey Parker, I’m home.” I yell into his bathroom. 

He shuts off the water and steps out. “Great, I’m starving. How was work Parker?”

“Great, Shaun knows his shit, just like you. He skipped out to get home, not worried as we have a few weeks before you leave.”

“Well your timing is perfect, I just got up, feeling great and starving.”

“I’m not hungry, just had lunch with Colin and Jeff at Darcy’s. He called and I couldn’t say no.”

“You had lunch with my best friend?” He’s shocked.

“Well, Parker had lunch with him.”

“They didn’t question anything?”

“Look at me. I was wearing your clothes, had your class ring and watch on and knew about Oklahoma. Jeff sure loves to talk. I didn’t have time to even get one word in. They don’t know about me do they?”

“No, you’ve never come up. I don’t talk about my system hacking, Ponzi scheming, embezzling, convict of a brother.”

“Do they even know you have a brother?” I’m getting a little upset but hide it. 

“No, so I’m not hassled about it.”

“That’s why they didn’t suspect a thing.” This is perfect. Shaun is the only person who knows I exist. No one else will be suspicious of any changes with Parker.

PARKER 101

We do lunch and I barely eat. I observe all his mannerisms—how he eats, what he eats and how he treats the staff. He does most of the talking, mostly about himself. I probe about his relationship with Shaun. He fills in more details of their college days—details like hang outs, parties, coming out to him, living together challenges, Shaun’s endless girlfriends and being his best man. I then change the topic to their work relationship and he really unloads. He had to beg Shaun to take the job, early struggles with cash flow and retaining customers. We’re there for hours with him drinking much more than I ever remember. I drive him home, he pops a hand full of pills and I tuck him in bed. 

From my bag, I pull out the list of contacts Tommy provided before leaving Brookhaven. It’s quite a detailed list of names, emails and phone numbers followed by their expertise such as ‘fake docs’, ‘bugs’, ‘laundering’, ‘drugs’, ‘plastic surgeon’ and ‘IT’. When I call them and tell them I’m friends with Tommy, they’re all eager to help. The IT guy emails me a keystroke tracker for unlocking all of Parker’s passwords and websites. The bugs guy recommends bugs and surveillance cameras and where to buy them. I don’t get through to some of them but leave messages.  

On Monday morning I make sure to wake him up for work—not over concern of his drug usage the night before but to observe his morning routine. I help him up, into the shower  and watch everything he does up till walking out the garage door. 

Once he’s gone, I duplicate his routine except for putting on a suit. Instead I try his ‘country club’ look from an Instagram post months ago—jeans, linen sport coat, simple dark blue dress shirt with a heavy on the jewelry. I managed to duplicate the outfit completely, even the Tag watch and bracelets.

While Parker is at work, I start my ‘Parker Plan’.  The keystroke is easy to download and add to his home computer, then it’ll worm its way into his work system. I borrow his BMW to buy the cameras from a guy in the Bronx. He also clones Parker’s iPhone for a few thousand. One night while Parker is passed out, I head into the office and place cameras and bugs in his office, Shaun’s and the conference rooms.

I pay for everything with a cash advance from my future payment. I told Parker I needed money for starting a new life. He was foolish enough to give me $10,000 out of his home safe while I watched him open it, using his social security number typed in backwards. 

Over the next couple days, I follow him with all my new toys, learning from him and Shaun. The work cameras help a great deal, showing how he works and interacts with everyone. The iPhone clone records all his conversations and texts. It’s an overwhelming amount of information but Parker passes out at 9pm most nights, giving me time to catch up.

He sees his therapist at least twice a week, leaving work using a variety of lame excuses and seeing him over lunch. He’s lying to Shaun, telling him it’s only once a week and that the therapist is really helping. Living with him, it’s obvious it’s not working at all. It’s like he turns on as soon as someone walks in his door or calls. When he’s alone, he zones out or has his head buried in his hands. He’s barely functioning during the day and afraid to go out at night. 

BREAKDOWN

On Friday I watch Parker leave the office for lunch with his friend Colin. On his private calendar, it’s a meeting with his therapist. He warns Jenny that he might be late but he’ll be back in time for Duncan at 3pm. An hour later he shocks me when he comes bursting into the house. He’s pale white, panting and out of breath.

I jump up from the TV. “What happened? You look like you saw a ghost.”

He collapses onto the sofa, barely able to speak. “I unblocked some things I blocked out of my mind. I think they were things I have nightmares about.”

“What?”

“The clicking of the gun as he almost pulled the trigger. I keep hearing the click—click, click, click. He’s going to shoot me. My last thing I’ll do before he shoots me, is piss my pants.” He grabs my Coke, pulls some pills from his pocket and chugs them down. “I was at my Therapist, everyone at work thinks I’m at lunch with Colin.”

“What are you doing? You took some this morning right? They’re not M&Ms.”

“No, they’re better than M&Ms.” He’s shaking like a leaf.

“You’re going to be a mess in the office.”

“Hope you’re up to speed with Duncan. It’s show time bro. Time for you to earn your keep.”

He looks and sounds pathetic. “Yes, I’ve been following your emails and Shaun will be there to help.”

“No! Shaun can’t know about this.” He rejects strongly.

“Why not? He’s going to know I’m not you.” I warn him.

“Because, he could use my weakness to convince the board to oust me and put him in charge.”

“But Shaun is your friend, I thought?”

“Please, how naive can you be? What brought you down? Who ratted on you? Your partner” He holds his head and shudders. 

“But Todd and I never got along. I should have known better.”

He slowly lifts himself off the sofa and heads up the stairs. “Come on, I’m going to bed, my head is killing me. You’re going back to the office Parker. Taylor is outside waiting.”

“How am I going to fool Shaun?  He knows you better than anyone?” I fake concern but watched their morning unfold. All the personal information is at my fingertips thanks to the cameras. Shaun’s wife is planning a vacation to Hawaii for the summer, Hanna has a new imaginary friend and he wants to golf this weekend. 

“He’s got his own fires to put out with the Prime Medusa account. Just don’t go to happy hour with him, he may discover you’re not me.”

I follow him up the stairs and notice how unsteady he is. He starts stripping out of his outfit, kicking off his shoes, taking off his coat and playing with his pants. I haven’t tied a tie in years, so I walk over to him, lift up his collar and pull his tie over his head so I don’t have to retie it. He’s really doped up as his sits on the edge of the bed. I help him with his pants, socks, and  dress shirt. When I pull off his jewelry, the Rolex on his wrist, catches my eye. I’ve never worn one before but always wanted one. Parker crawls into bed, mumbles something and passes out.

TRANSFORMATION

Parker and I haven’t swapped places since college. I went to work for him so he could go to South Beach with some friends. When I saw him at Brookhaven, I thought we still looked alike. When we got the haircuts, it hit me how identical we still are. The fact that Shaun fell for my charade before my transformation reinforced my observation. The only difference I’ve noticed but no one else mentioned are our smiles. His teeth are whiter and I’ll need to fix that at some point. 

In his bathroom I take a fast shower, swipe on his deodorant and spritz on some of his Polo Cologne to take his scent. His pomade gives me his perfectly coiffed hair. I’m not sure all what he took but he’s passed out and snoring when I enter his bedroom. 

Parker’s identity slowly becomes mine as I slip on his damp socks and warm pants. As I pull on his French cuff dress shirt, I’m reminded of Parker’s better fashion sense. I was always more casual while he was ‘Mr. GQ’—into designer custom suits and the latest fashion. The shirt has contrasting white collar/cuffs, splashy cufflinks and the sleeve is monogrammed. When I have it buttoned up, I pop the collar and add ‘my’ tie exactly as he wore it. I go to the mirror, fix my collar and adjust my tie, making sure the dimple is perfect.  

I step into his warm shoes then walk over to the chair and grab his suit coat. Inside is a ‘Executive Garrison’ label with Parker’s name engraved in gold under it. Like everything else I’ve put on, the fit is perfect, as a custom suit should fit. I confidently pull it on and feel some items in the pockets. In my left pocket is his wallet, and in the right is his iPhone. Without thinking, I pull out the iPhone to make sure I didn’t miss any messages. From the dresser I grab his Rolex and ring, adding the final pieces of his identity.

In the bathroom, I make a final check of my appearance. I’m the spitting image of Parker except for a nick he has from shaving this morning. I take his razor and carefully press it against my neck, giving me a similar cut. A wad of toilet paper stops it in a few minutes. Now I’m perfect. 

I check on Parker one last time then head back to the office to finish his day. I’m more nervous about my overall impersonation of Parker than dealing with Shaun. I’ve been watching Shaun and Parker interact all week, so it’ll be easy to pick up where they left off this morning. The bigger challenge will be adopting Parker’s dopey persona. The only solution I can come up is taking a Zoloft myself. There’s even a few in my pant pockets. 

Taylor drops me off in front of building and I head up to the 40th floor. In the elevator, I stiffen my posture, pull my shoulders back and adopt the Parker Thomas persona. The receptionist greets “Mr. Thomas” as I walk by on the way to my office. As soon as I’m in my office, Jenny comes running in to update me on things I missed. I take off my coat and suit coat as Jenny reminds me of Duncan in an hour. Since I’m Parker Thomas, I adopt his mental illness. I head to my private bathroom and take a Zoloft.

Shaun’s office is empty, not sure where he ran off to, but that’s okay. I’ve heard Shaun and Parker discuss their strategy with Duncan, so I know exactly how to handle the meeting. It’s a simple ‘they accept, we celebrate’ or ‘they counter and we think about it’. Either way is fine by me because this won’t be one of ‘our’ most profitable accounts for a few years. The meeting is an hour away so I review the contract and proposal, then get caught up with my email. The Zoloft hits me in about 30 minutes, giving me a very mellow feeling, like I just smoked a few joints. I check my appearance in the bathroom and I think I even have Parker’s usual glassy eyes. 

With Shaun not back, I greet the Duncan people and escort them to the executive conference room. My sales team joins and takes it from there, making my job easy. I sit there quietly taking notes and agreeing. Lucky for me, I checked out the LinkedIN profiles to put faces to the names. Shaun joins us 15 minutes late, just as they announce their intentions to proceed with Thomas Financial’s proposal. We sign the contract and I easily forge ‘P. Thomas’ with his typical big loop ‘P’. 

Shaun and I walk them out, then he follows me back into my office and shuts the door behind him. He heads over to my hidden bar and helps himself to the Scotch. 

“You want one or are you on the ‘Z’? Your eyes look glassy.”

“Sure, why not. I haven’t taken a pill since this morning.”

He pours me a glass, hands it to me and we clink glasses. I’m so mellow that someone could sneak up behind me, yell in my ear and I wouldn’t jump. The glassy eyes just add to my Parker disguise. I take a seat at my desk and he jumps in a chair.

“So check Sutter later tonight. We should have it deposited after 8pm according to Mike.”

I have no clue what he’s talking about. I heard Parker ask him about the Sutter status this morning, so I play along. “Great, I’ll be sure to check it later.”

“So did Greg fix you up with more shit today.”

“No, I had lunch with Colin.” 

“Really?” He says in a questioning voice. 

“Yes, really. Hopefully the Refuge will help.” I know Shaun doesn’t like Greg, even threatening to report him for providing drugs to Parker.

“The Refuge will work. You still up for golf on Sunday?”

“Sure, I wouldn’t miss it.” I saw it on Parker’s calendar for 8am Sunday.

“How’s your brother coming along? Think he can pull this off? He may have to handle your board meeting depending on when you get back. ”

“With our help, he’ll be fine. He’s been driving me crazy with a million questions.” I take a sip of my drink, lean back in my chair and put my hands behind my head—another Parker mannerism I’ve mastered.

He doesn’t show the slightest concern about who I am. We’re talking shop and personal shit till Gene, our head of sales stops in to invite us to happy hour. Shaun declines due to dinner at his mom’s house. I jump at the chance to hang with my employees. 

I work till 5:30, when Taylor stops by my office. He’s here to take me home but he’s okay with my happy hour plans and agrees to keep an eye on me at the bar. I pull on my suit, check in the image in the mirror, smile and think. ‘I’m Parker Thomas, CEO of Thomas Financial.’ I run my hand through my hair then check my tie. I haven’t been out in public with friends in years. Taylor keeps a low profile but is watching out for me. It’s an amazing feeling being Parker and hanging out with friends. I play ‘Parker’ perfectly with all my employees, learning their names, faces and other personal details. 

I pick up the tab then Taylor takes me home. I check my email and text on the ride. My friend Ken calls to ask how I’m feeling and see if I want to grab dinner with him and John tomorrow. I don’t think twice about making plans with ‘my’ friends. It’s amazing to think I’ve pulled off being Parker three times with Shaun. The guy is clueless I’m not his partner. I get home about 8pm and find Parker on the sofa in front of the TV.

“Hey, how you feeling?”

He turns and looks at me. “Fuck, I bet no one questioned who you are?”

“Nope, I handled the Duncan meeting, they loved the proposal and I signed the contract.  I had drinks with Shaun in my office after then did happy hour with my employees.  It was great experiencing freedom for the first time in 6 years. Oh, Ken and John invited you over for dinner tomorrow night and Shaun reminded me of golf on Sunday.”

“Good job, I knew they’d love it. Sounds like you did great.” He rubs his head as though he has a major headache. “Oh yeah, I did forget about Sunday. It’s with his father and father-in-law at Ferry Point.”

“Bro, if you’re not up for it, let me. I haven’t golfed in years but I bet I’m still just as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m probably as good as you were.  I just picked up the latest Calloway clubs, they’re at Ferry Point along with my clothes and other gear.  You’ll have fun, Shaun Sr and Ted are good golfer and ever better drinkers. Ferry Point is an incredible course.”

“What about Ken and John?”

“I’ll handle them. It’ll be good to see them before heading to California. No problems being me?”

“None, people seem to walk on egg shells when you’re around. Jenny is great keeping you on your toes. Shaun is clueless. I didn’t tell you, but Sunday morning when Shaun stopped to pick me up, he thought I was you greeting him at the door. I rolled with it, till he asked where Paul was and I came clean. I thought about running upstairs, changing clothes and seeing if I could get away with it but decided against it.”

“Ha! You should have.”

“How are you feeling?” I probe.

“I slept but didn’t really sleep, tossing and turning. If the Refuge doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m constantly on edge and when I think of the gun cocking, I go into shock. The Zoloft is barely working now.” 

“Oh, Shaun doesn’t like Greg does he?  He made some snide comment about you getting more drugs from him at lunch. I told him no, that I had lunch with Colin.”

“Greg is harmless. He gives me sample packets of drugs, nothing illegal. When he needed muscle relaxer for a bad back, he loved Greg.”

“And what is with Shaun's ‘Stefan’ when I stuck up for Greg?” I need to know the significance of Shaun using his middle name. 

He laughs. “At Penn, he had people thinking it was my name, had everyone calling me it. Now and then he uses my middle name if he’s questioning something, like my judgement or truthfulness.” 

This clears up ‘Stefan’ and gives me some additional personal information. He’s fucked up—his speech is slow and hands are trembling. He orders a pizza from his favorite place, downs a few beers and slices then pops something in his mouth that he took from his pocket. Whatever it was, it calms him down and makes him disoriented. I use it to pump him for more personal information about him and his friends. He’s so fucked up, he talks for hours before passing out and needing my help to get to bed. 

NIGHT OUT

I give him 30 minutes before slipping back into his bedroom and digging through his pants pockets.  There’s a combination of Xanax, Zoloft and other pills I’ve never seen before. I shake him to see if I can wake him but he’s out cold. I’ve always known my brother was pathetic and this past week just reinforces it.  PTSD?  Really? Who the fuck gets PTSD from being carjacked? He got a bruise on his ass from hitting the ground and brand new X5 out of it.

I stay in his suit and identity, knowing I’m a better version of him. The power I have as Parker is intoxicating. I go to his home office and enjoy thinking of myself as him. I’m restless though, it’s only 10pm and I want, no, need to be acknowledged as Parker. I want to soak up his identity for a few more hours.

I’ve learned that Parker doesn’t have much of a gay life. He has a few stuffy pretentious gay friends that take in the culture of New York like operas, galleria openings and plays. He’s never been one to go out dancing all night in a thumping gay club. He’d rather put on a tuxedo and spend the evening drinking wine and commenting on art. I’ve seen many of his Instagram posts at the Kennedy Center or Broadway ‘being seen’. 

After a few minutes of debate, I realize as CEO of Thomas Financial, I can walk into my office anytime I like. Tonight would be the perfect time to check out all of Thomas Financial with no one around to question why I’m so curious. I pull on my suit coat, feeling my iPhone and wallet still in place. I run upstairs and grab my burner phone to reach out to a contact in the privacy of my office. I pull on my top coat, head to the X5 for my briefcase. Instead of driving the X5, I’m taking ‘my’ 911 since I haven’t driven it yet.

I find my way to work without the GPS, pull into my spot and stroll in carrying my briefcase—in full Parker mode. I’m greeted knowingly by security and acknowledge them as though I have a lot on my mind. Every door opens up for Parker Thomas as I approach them. After I hang up my topcoat, I head to my bathroom to inspect myself.

“Parker Thomas, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  I extend my hand and introduce myself to the mirror.

“Shaun, of course I’m Stefan you idiot.” I run my hand through my hair per our secret identity agreement.

“Jenny, make sure to get Robert Duncan on the Christmas list, and did we file with FFIEC?”

“Ken, I can’t wait to see you and John tomorrow night for dinner. It’s been too long, I may not recognize you guys.” I speak into my sleeping iPhone and grin at my reflection. 

I tuck the iPhone back in my coat and run both hands through my hair. I head back to my office, pour myself a Scotch and take my rightful spot as CEO. From just four days of camera feeds, I pretty much know ‘my’ routine when starting work—log in, check email and respond as needed—return phone calls—review business bookmarks. I do it without having to think about it. 

After I’m caught up, I start my inspection of Thomas Finance. First stop is Shaun’s office where I pick up his personal photographs. His wife Susan is stunning. “You’re more stunning than the day you married Shaun. He certainly married up.” I laugh using Parker’s typical flattery. There’s a pic of me and Shaun golfing with two elderly gents. The one has to be his father because they look like twins, 30 years apart. The other has to be Susan’s dad. Good to know I’ve golfed with them before. I’ll have to study Shaun’s Facebook and Instagram before Sunday. There’s a wall with various business awards and golf trophies, just like mine. He has his own bar, bathroom and closet that are smaller than mine. 

I make my rounds checking out anyone with an actual office. That takes over an hour then I make a cursory round of cubicles. A few hours later and I know instinctively where my key people are located and some personal items about them. Back at my office I check out Jenny’s desk for personal information. My last act of the day is to call a ‘doctor’ highly recommended by Tommy’s list

“Dr. Harris, my name is Paul Thomas, I’m a friend of Tommy Long, I was his cell mate in Brookhaven. He said you might be able to help me.”

“Mr. Thomas, any friend of Tommy’s is a friend of mine. How is he doing?” 

“He’s doing the same, missing tennis, complaining about the food and politics. I’m looking for some help with something Tommy told me.”

“I prefer to meet in person, not discuss personal issues over the phone. Are you near New York?”

“Yes, nearby, I believe you’re in Brooklyn. I could stop by your office any time or I’d buy you lunch.”

“I’d love to do lunch, just had a friend cancel on me tomorrow if you’re available.”

“I’m open, pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

“I’ll text you the details Paul.”

He kept that short and sweet. I lean back in my chair and tuck my burner phone away. Looking around the office, a sense of awe comes over me. I see ‘my’ Penn and Wharton diplomas on the wall and admire my class ring. A quick glance at my Rolex alerts me that it’s almost 2am—time to get home. 

SATURDAY

I wake up late to the smell of bacon waffing up the stairs as I head down the stairs. Parker is cooking up a storm in the kitchen. I’ve never seen him so alert and, dare I say, normal?

“Bro, let me run back upstairs so you can serve me breakfast in bed, and remember, only fresh squeeze OJ.” I order him. 

“Sit your ass down at the counter or you don’t eat.”

He’s running around the kitchen like a chicken with its head cut off.

“Are you on something?” I cautiously ask.

“Prescribed Uppers to get me going this morning. I’ve been sleeping too much lately, so it balances me out.”

“Greg or a real doctor?”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Shaun. Greg is a medical professional.” He plops a plate of pancakes and bacon on the counter. “Sorry, no OJ and you need to make your own coffee.

“And what happens later today? I’ll tell you, you crash and burn.” I get up and start making my own coffee. 

“Then I level off, back to normal.”

I laugh out loud. “Have you taken Uppers before? Apparently not.” 

He gets silent, doesn’t answer me then changes the topic. I drop it but know what I’m talking about. “I’m going to check on things in the office this morning, run some errands and pick up some stuff for California.”

“I’ve got to check on some things I have in a safe deposit box at Chase downtown, do a little shopping, maybe pick up some clothes of my own.” I skip the part about seeing Dr. Harris whose specialty is changing a person’s identity. According to Tommy, he has the ability to change someone’s fingerprint. I want to know if I can have Parker’s. 

“Your key is in the top drawer of my office desk. I’ll be gone before Annie get here, she’ll be tied up all afternoon cleaning up and restocking.”

“She’s funny, I like her. She’s concerned because every day this week, you were home sick from work. That’s what I told her.”

“Ha, that’s Annie.  She’s priceless. Shaun’s wife recommended her years ago. She’s worth every penny and does work for them occasionally. I better get out of here before she catches us.”

Parker grabs a plaid sport coat and heads out to the garage.  I follow after him and watch as he takes the Corvette for a change. I can’t in good conscious, leave this mess for Annie. I’m loading the dishwasher as she walks in.

“You cooked?” She laughs.

“Attempted. My cousin, who just left, is probably on his way to McDonald’s for a McMuffin, or the hospital to get his stomach pumped.” 

She shoves me out of the way and takes over. “I’m sure you have more important things to  do.” 

I head up to Parker’s bedroom, jump in the shower, use all his products and reuse his towels. I decide on a dressier outfit for emptying my safe deposit box. I finger through his sport coats and find a gray coat that’ll go great with black dress pants and casual knit sport shirt. There’s already a pocket square in it from the last time he wore it. I tuck my own ID and burner phone into my coat and head down to my office for a backpack to hold my stash. The safe deposit box key is still in the same envelope, tucked in his desk drawer. 

There’s no problem emptying my box—there’s only a thumb drive and $200,000 in cash. The thumb drive is the key. With its files and links, I now have access to another million in an offshore bank. With that task finished, it’s time to meet Dr. Harris.

He picked a sports bar near his office. I get there early and text him my description. A salt and pepper elderly man arrives minutes later.

“Dr. Harris, it’s a pleasure.”

“Same Paul. How’s my friend Tommy?”

“He’s fine, looking to getting out in a year.”

“He’s one hell of a friend so whatever you need, I’ll help with if I can.”

We order appetizers and beer, then get right to the issue.

“Doc, I want to start my life all over, as someone else.”

“Change of appearance? Plastic surgery, I’m assuming?” Dr. Harris questions.

“Hmm… the appearance I have nailed. It’s the details I need help with. Tommy mentioned some new technology for changing finger prints. That’s what I need.”

“Yeah, I’ve done about a dozen so far. It’s a new 3D printing process. The results are amazing.  We simply remove the epidermis then print on top of is with human skin cells. It’s like skin grafting but much easier.”

“How long does it take?” I’m fascinated by technology.

“The procedure takes about an hour per hand, followed by a week to heal.  The first day or two is painful but once you’re over that, it’s just waiting for the healing cream to work.”

“Healing cream?”

“Another new technology with gene stimulants that heal at the molecular level. Once the fingers are healed, there’s no way to detect they’re printed.”

“Great, can you give me someone else’s fingerprints?”

“I can give you an original design that’s not on any records in the world. Using someone’s else’s could cause problems, plus they’re tricky to obtain.”

“I want my twin’s fingerprints.” I cut to the chase.

“Now that’s a first for me.”

“Can you do it? I plan on taking his—”

He cuts me off. “I don’t need details, all I need is a scan of his hands. That would be the tricky part.”

“That’s the easy part.”

“You’ll have to have him knocked out, and scan them multiple times. I have the equipment at my office. It’s really easy to operate. Let’s go there.”

I follow Dr. Harris back to his unmarked office where he scans my fingers, teaching me how to use it on Parker. The procedure is $100,000  in untraceable crypto. He also will add a pimple  on my cheek to match Parker’s. I get home to an empty house and no Corvette in the garage. I take the scanner and hide it in the garage for use later. 

SATURDAY NIGHT

I’m in my bedroom watching video of Parker in his office earlier today. I study his responses to a few emails, hear him talking to Shaun, and logging into his dashboard, checking stats. He’s there all morning, then stops at Mac’s Hoagies for lunch according to his email receipts. I then track his iPhone and he appears to be heading home. I put my tech away, head downstairs and turn on the TV. Parker arrives 30 minutes later carrying a number of bags.

“Wow, did you buy out the store?”

“Yeah, I was slumming it. Refuge says simple wardrobe, nothing fancy—hoodies, sweats, short, t-shirts and sneakers. I blew about $700 at the Under Armour and Nike stores. God forbid, I almost walked into the GAP!” He laughs.

“You seem good today.  Zoloft?”

“Yeah, got me, but I didn’t take anything else. I’m not going to take a Xanax until I get home from dinner. What are you going to do?”

“Don’t laugh but no plans. I’m going to finish watching Yellowstone that I started at Brookhaven. I found it on your streaming service. Hey what about golf tomorrow? You feel like handling it?”

“Nah, but I called Shaun, asked him to pick ‘me’ up and drive tomorrow. It’ll be good practice being me.”

“Does Shaun know we’re doing this?”

“Fuck no, you’re going to be me, own it.”

“Great, 7am?” I whine.

“That’s why you’re getting your ass up at 6am to play and I’ll be in bed.”

“I’m going to need pointers for tomorrow i.e… who I’m playing with, what to wear, history of previous games.”

“It’s easy. Shaun’s dad is Shaun also, looks like him, avid golfer and lives on Long Island. His father-in-law is Ted, widower a few years ago, had a girlfriend last time we played. Shaun Sr usually wins then we get hammered at the 19th hole. Wear anything in my locker, it’s next door to Shaun’s. Oh, Shaun is about even with me, skill wise. Relax, it’ll be fun.”

He runs upstairs with all his bags while I continue watching TV. I was hoping he’d come back all messed up and allow me to go out with his friends. I’ll just use this time to catch up on my surveillance videos and check out the safe. 

30 minutes later, Parker comes downstairs all dressed up in a sport coat and silk dress shirt. He looks normal, the opposite of yesterday when he had his breakdown. 

“What do you think?” He asks.

“Great outfit. I’ll have to keep that in mind while you’re in California, wearing a hoodie.” I snicker at him. 

“It’s Prada—suit, shirt and shoe. Hmm, socks too.” He checks his Omega watch. “Okay, don’t wait up. You have to be up at 6am.”

“I’m looking forward to playing Ferry Point and being an actual member will be great too. While you’re at Big Sur, you should stop at Pebble Beach and play a round.”

“Been there, done that……a few years ago with Shaun. I nailed it like a pro, Shaun sucked, hitting balls into the Pacific.  We had a blast. Shaun cheated on Susan with another guest a redheaded bimbo.”

“Wow, his wife is stunning.”

“She was pregnant at the time, he was horny, she wasn’t into having sex, so that was his excuse. I was stuck alone most of the weekend, pissed me off.” 

“I get really horny, really easy. I need some so ‘you’ might be on the prowl soon.”

“Oh god, now I’m worried handing my life over to you. Behave, I’m well known in New York, have an image to uphold. Check my Instagram for the bars I like to go to, pick up someone from there. No trips to the Eagle or Manhole. Got it?” Thanks bro for more personal information.  

I am horny. It’s been months for any relief. I open up my clone phone and go through my Instagram. He was at Pronto Video Bar a month ago with Colin. It’s just a few miles away and it seems to be filled with hot guys. I’ll just stop by for dinner and see what happens from  there. 

What Parker wore earlier today really looked good on him, so it’ll look great on me. I run up to his bedroom and find the outfit on the chair. I strip out of my clothes and pull his underwear out of the hamper and step into them. I do the same for his socks. The pants are tan chinos, his belt is still in place. The shirt is a blue linen Polo brand. I’m learning that Parker’s ‘style’ is sticking with one designer for the entire outfit. I slip one of his Tag watches, add some rings, bracelet then check myself in the mirror. I look just like he did in his office all morning but minus his class ring and favorite Omega watch. 

I grab the same plaid sport coat he wore earlier and head out to the garage. Nice, the Corvette is sitting there for my pleasure. Pronto is a ‘hip’ place based on the cars in the parking lot and how people are dressed. There’s a bar section and restaurant, divided by a bakery in the middle. I head to the bar and grab a seat next to a group of guys. The bartender greets Parker and lays a chocolate martini down for me. While checking out the crowd, a guy catches my attention. He smiles and I hold my drink up to him and he comes over.

“Hi, I’m Chris.” He shakes my hand and gives me a sexy smile. 

“I’m Pau…Parker.” Almost using my real name on him.

“I’ve seen you here before, never had the nerve to say hi.”

“Same, you’ve got a killer smile Chris.” I give him a big smile and place my hand on his thigh. 

He leans in and kisses me deeply. It’s an incredible kiss. “I’m meeting friends here for a drink, then we’re heading to Dueling Pianos. You want to join us?”

“I’d love to but I have other plans I can’t get out of, just stopped for a quick drink.”

“Damn, you’re so sexy Parker.” He grabs the back of my head and pulls me in for another kiss. We start making out right at the bar, losing track of time. All at once there was a ‘Ahem’ to interrupt us. There’s a few guys smiling at us. 

“Chris, sorry to interrupt you. Who’s your friend?” A sexy red head quips.

“Oh guys, hey, this is Parker. He’s an old friend.” He laughs.

“Hey guys.” I give them a small wave.

“We’re late, you coming?” A blonde guy asks.

“Yeah guys, give me one second.” He pulls out his phone and has me enter my phone number. I give him Parker’s number since it’ll be mine starting in a week. 

“Hey, Thanks Chris, you’re an awesome kisser. I’m going to be away on business this week, back Saturday. Call me then.”

“Sure thing.” He takes charge again, grabs my cock and kisses me one last time. 

Chris and his friends take off, leaving me with a memory of a great kiss and throbbing hard on in my pants. I can’t wait to hear from him, impress him with a great dinner then take him home to ‘my’ place to fuck him. This new Parker will enjoy his life more. 

I grab a quick bite then head home. In his office I review my social media, then log into his bank account and stock portfolio. The $5 million he offered to pay me is a drop in the bucket of his net worth. I jump in bed early to be rested for my golf outing tomorrow.

FERRY POINT

I’m up before 6am and jump in my shower. Since I’ll be changing at Ferry Point, I just put on what I wore last night. In Parker’s bedroom, he’s snoring away as I go over to him and quietly slip his class ring and watch off him. In his sport coat, I find my wallet and iPhone. In his bathroom, I borrow a spritz of his Polo cologne, and add some Pomade to complete the takeover of Parker’s identity for the day. Once again, I’m Parker Thomas for most of the day. 

I ease into my day just like Parker does—a K-cup of Starbucks, a power bar and catching up on my iPhone. Shaun shows up at 7am and rings the door bell. I grab my sport coat and greet him at door.

“Let’s go man.” Shaun greets me. 

Shaun’s best friend jumps into the Escalade and they take off. Like Parker, I make sure to bury my face in my iPhone and act chilled as if I’m on my Zoloft. 

“Another sandwich in bed last night.” Shaun complains, referring to Hanna jumping in bed with them.

I just laugh. “Ha, You’ve got to be horny as hell.”

“I am, I may make Mel the 19th hole if I can ditch my ‘dads’ today.”

“Ha, you are horny.” I don’t know who Mel is but can play along while studying my phone. 

“Looks like Tektonics is a hit, per Joel.” I change the topic to business mentioning an email from my VP of marketing on demographics.

“That’s great, now put the fucking phone down.”  He reaches over to me, plucks the phone from my hand and places it on the center console. “So how’s the jailbird coming along?”

I start off the conversation about myself exactly as Parker would—exasperated. “Paul is Paul. He’s smart, picking up our systems easily. I’ve been testing him about issues and he’s up to speed. When I try to teach him how to act like me, he ignores me, says it’s not important, that he’ll just sit in my office, do fancy lunches or be on the golf course.”

“Sounds like he’s not taking this seriously. Is he behaving himself? He seems like he could be wild to control?” 

“Last night he took off in the Vette without telling me where he was going. His license is expired and he’s driving my baby. He says ‘I’ll just tell them I’m you and forgot my wallet’ Says he doesn’t have time to get to the DMV to get a license.”  Knowing how much Parker loves his automobiles, I use his baby slang exactly as he would. “He’s more horny than you.”

“I doubt it, sounds like he was getting some in prison. I’m not getting any.” Shaun whines.

“I’m afraid this could backfire on me, destroy my reputation. I warned him last night before he took off to behave like me, keep away from the Eagle and Manhole. I got home about midnight, don’t know when he got in.”

“What did you do? And don’t tell me you stayed in and took a Xanax.”

“No, I did dinner with Ken and John at Darcy’s, they played match maker with me and their friend Jason.  I wanted to fuck him but don’t want Paul messing it up while I’m away.”

All the way to Ferry Point, I easily play Parker Thomas discussing work and personal issues with Shaun. As we’re getting close, I pull one of Parker’s headaches, putting my head between my hands. Shaun gets a little concerned but I assure him I’ll be fine. Its little details I want him to pick up on, to confirm my identity. 

Ferry Point impresses me as we pull in to the clubhouse and valet park. There’s an incredible view of New York but Shaun’s Cadillac is barely classy enough to be in the parking lot. The valet and host greet us by name.  I follow Shaun to our lockers and as Parker mentioned, mine is right next to his’. A swipe of my membership card opens it to reveal  everything I need for today. I follow his lead changing into my gear. 

Thanks to instagram and what’s in his locker, I nail his golf image—Nike golf shirt and long skinny pants, Nike golf shoes, matching Nike sweater and cap to keep me warm. I’m not shocked to find an Omega PGA watch in the locker to replace my usual Omega.  As I slip it on, Shaun notices.

“You know, Ted is going to steal that if he sees it. He told his wife he needs one and she told him no.”

“Ha! I’ll keep my sweater shortened so he can admire it more.” 

Shaun’s phone dings with a text message. “Damn, they’re waiting for us. I didn’t think they were here yet.”

I put on my cap, grab my gloves and follow Shaun out to the carts. Ted and Shaun greet us at our golf carts and starting giving us grief for being late. I look around and see my monogrammed golf bag in the back of one of the carts. I walk over and start inspecting my gear, appreciating my brother’s equipment. I start off rusty but quickly regain my skills. They start drinking early but I use ‘medication’ to avoid drinking. Shaun takes notice and slaps me on the shoulder as we’re walking together.  I have the best time playing with Parker’s accepting friends. 

Shaun’s dad finishes with the best score while I come in second after a rough start. Shaun accepts my story that the Zoloft mellows me out, improving my skills. At the 19th hole, I get to meet Melissa, ‘Mel’ who flirts with everyone but especially Shaun. At lunch, Shaun mentions wanting to meet my ‘cousin’ to see how he’s adapting to New York. When I get a minute alone, I call Parker to warn him of Shaun expecting to meet me at home. He sounds coherent when he assures me not to worry. 

Between playing 18 holes and the 19th hole, we get back to my house after 3pm. I’m whipped as we walk in the front door. Parker comes running out of the kitchen where he’s cooking something that smells like chicken. He’s in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair has no product in it and he’s barefoot.

“Hey, hope you’re hungry, I’m making chicken for dinner.” He sees Shaun and acts surprised. “Oh hey Shaun, there’s enough for you too.”

“You didn’t tell me you hired a private chef Parker.” Shaun says to me.

“Reserve your judgement for after you try eating it.” I respond.

“So are you ready for your close up Paul?” Shaun asks referencing Sunset Boulevard. 

“Test me!” He challenges Shaun.

“How many employees do we have?”

“75.” He answers instantly. “Up from 50 just two years ago. Thanks to accounts like Circuit Tech and Prime Medusa, we’ll probably hire 25 more this year. Our marketing department is weak.”

Shaun’s mouth drops open. “Wow, he sounds just like you Parker.”

“I told you there’s nothing to worry about. No one will doubt who he is.”

“I just need to get use to Parker’s stuffy image and that goo he puts in his hair.”

“Hey bro, it’s pomade and if you could look only half this good, you’d be lucky.” I snip back at him. 

“Okay you two, be nice. Paul, all you have to do is look the part, put some ‘goo’ in your hair and I’ll block and tackle.” Shaun checks his watch. “Hey, Susan is expecting me home and I’m late.”

FLIPOUT

Shaun lets himself out, I just look at Parker and let out a sigh of relief. “Wow bro, you were fantastic. I think you’ve nailed me completely with your answers.” I laugh at the twist.

“Bro, If Shaun doesn’t doubt you’re me, no one else will. I think you’re set. Hell, maybe I could get there early. The Refuge told me I could arrive anytime, so the sooner in, the sooner out.”

“You seem really good today, did you take your meds?” I ask cautiously.

“Hmmm I took something Greg gave me to try. Buspirone for anxiety and Aripiprazole for bipolar disorder, both are very safe.”

“Oh god, I hope I don’t have to deal with Greg, I might hit him. Toss them away and get to California for professional help.”

“Look at me, I haven’t felt this great in months. Greg will probably check in on you. He stopped by for lunch.”

“So you didn’t tell him about the Refuge?” I ask, worried there’ll be another person that knows about me.

“No, he’s a gossip and all of New York already knows about my PTSD or as he believes to be MDD, Major Depressive Disorder. I don’t want anyone but you and Shaun knowing I’m checking myself into mental illness facility.” He starts to get upset.

“Okay, I’ll be nice to him if he calls or stops by.”

Parker didn’t actually make a chicken, he bought a rotisserie chicken and some sides at Whole Foods. We eat dinner and talk a few more hours about work issues and his personal life. He tells me the Refuge doesn’t allow any distractions—no visitors, cell phones or computers. Parker Thomas is listed as his outside point of contact. So as him, I’ll be the only one allowed to call and check in with his doctors. Parker also hired a different, questionable therapist to diagnose ‘Paul’s’ PTSD and to get him admitted.

Before bed, he pops a Xanax to help him sleep. Thirty minutes later and I’m helping him up the stairs and tucking him into bed. It doesn’t take long for him to pass out but to keep him out, I slip a few Ambiens into his mouth. When I’m convinced he’s out cold, I grab Dr. Harris’ scanners from the garage to upload his fingerprints and mouth scans to his account. It only takes 30 minutes to scan both hands and his mouth.

I jump in bed and slowly fall to sleep while reliving my day as Parker. I’m dreaming of being in Thomas Financial’s executive conference room, in a board meeting discussing business condition. At the end, everyone is congratulating me about something. I’m giving my team, also in the room, credit for my success. As I’m leaving the conference room, someone is screaming in my ear calling me Paul. It gets louder and louder until I’m awaken by a hysterical Parker shaking me. 

I jump up in bed, my heart is racing like I’m having a heart attack. “Parker, what the fuck is wrong.”

“I’m having a heart attack.” He’s pale and sweating.

“It’s probably all the pills you’re taking. Did you have a bad dream?”

“I kept hearing a gun being cocked, feeling it against my head and begging him not to shoot.”

“You’re not having a heart attack, does your left arm feel funny?”

“Yeah, it’s numb.”

“No, do you feel a shooting pain up and down it? Numbness is not a heart attack, it’s from sleeping on it and cutting off circulation. Did you take any other drugs?”

He’s trembling, rocking back and forth on the bed. “No just sleeping pills, nothing else.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” He yells at me. “It was like a flashback. It felt so real.”

“You were so good before bed.” He is definitely displaying bipolar symptoms. “Let’s get you back to bed, it was just a bad dream. You’ll be fine.”

I help him back to bed and notice 5:12am on the alarm clock. I wonder if the sleeping pills he took and the Ambien I slipped him, caused this episode. Hours later I get up and check in on him. The shower is running so that’s a good sign.

JUMPING IN

“Parker, How are you feeling?” He doesn’t respond. “Parker?”

I walk into the bathroom but don’t see him standing behind the frosted glass. “Parker?” I open the shower door to shut off the water and find Parker on the floor, curled up in the corner, not moving.

“Oh my god, Parker” I jump in without turning off the shower and help him up. He’s catatonic, not saying a word. 

“I’mmmm kay.” He finally mumbles.

“No you’re not.” I pull a towel off the rack, wrap it around him and get him to the bed. 

“He came back. He’s pulled the trigger. I can feel it.” He rubs his forehead. 

“It was a dream, that’s all. Let’s get you some coffee, wake you up, you’ll be fine.” He’s rocking and staring out across the bedroom. I try to shake him, snap him out of it. “Come on bro, Taylor will be here to pick you up in an hour.”

“Go in for me. I can’t go in there like this.”

I’m not going to baby him like mom used to. I take the towel away and get him back in bed. In his bathroom I strip out of my wet boxers and jump in the shower. After a week of learning Parker’s identity, working Friday and spending all day yesterday with ‘my’ friends on the golf course, I’m certain I’m ready to takeover his life. 

I towel off and follow his routine using all toothbrush, razor and hygiene products. From his drawers I grab a pair of boxers briefs, put them on and pick out a pair of plain black socks. From his closet, I select a very conservative navy window pane suit by Brioni, a white collar  dress shirt, olive-navy tie and his usual clunky wingtips. I’m still wearing Parker’s class ring and watch from yesterday but will swap out the Omega for a Rolex. I sit on the edge of is bed, glance over my shoulder and see Parker sleeping again. I start the easy transformation into a CEO.

I pull on my socks, pull the pants off the hanger and step into them, then wiggle into the wingtips. I grab the shirt, pull it and select a simple pair of yellow gold cufflinks from ‘my’ jewelry box. In the dresser mirror, I button up the shirt and add cufflinks. I add the tie and use Parker’s typical Italian knot. It takes a few tries but eventually I replicate his typical dimple and the length is perfect. I pull on the jacket and notice there’s a pocket square already in place. I button the upper button, play with the pocket square and check myself out in the mirror. I take off my Omega watch and replace it ‘my’ Rolex. I tuck his wallet and iPhone into my suit pockets. The suit is a perfect fit and shows off my body in all the right places. My hair duplicates Parker’s style with the right amount of his Uppercut pomade. The final step is adding some pills to my pocket and popping a Zoloft to mellow me out. 

I quietly shut the door and head to my bedroom. I grab my cloned phone and snap a few pics of Parker. It’s crazy how much I look like Parker. A check of my new watch shows I have 20 minutes before Taylor arrives to drive me to work. I run downstairs and make a quick k-cup. I’m running around making sure I have everything I need for work. I grab my briefcase from my home office. From my closet, I find a beautiful, super soft navy top coat. As I’m sipping my coffee awake, I post my pic of my outfit on Instagram with “Ready for the corporate jungle”. Within minutes, my friend Ken responds with “looking good buddy” and others ‘like’ it. 

When I see Taylor pulling up, I pull on my coat, grab my briefcase and run out to his car. I start checking my emails and calendar on the way. Taylor drops me off and I confidently stroll in as Parker does every day, smiling and greeting everyone as my outgoing brother. As I’m hanging up my topcoat and suit coat, I scan my office, noting my diplomas and taking in the view of Manhattan. It’s unreal to sit down at my huge desk, and look at what I’m wearing. I’m now Parker Thomas and no one would doubt that. 

Jenny shows up a few minutes later, pops her head in to greet me and promising coffee in a few minutes. I start in with emails and checking my bookmarks. Jenny comes back with my coffee and her iPad. 

“You’re looking rested Parker. Good weekend?” She places my coffee on my leather coaster and takes a seat to review my schedule for the day as she always does.

“Yeah, great weekend. Dinner with Ken and John Saturday and Ferry Point with Shaun on Sunday. How’s the puppy?” Thank god for the video cameras. This ‘chit chat’ solidifies my identity to her, as it will with everyone else.

She giggles. “Lucy is picking up potty training but she’s chewing like crazy. Jonathan has to have her in his bed every night now. You were right, Pitbulls are excellent dogs for children.”

“Yeah, my first dog was a Pitbull and he was never mean or growled at someone, all he did was lick people to death.” 

I reviewed my day on the ride in but Jenny adds more details to it. It’s the usual start to my day. She leaves and I enjoy my coffee even though it black and I always drink it with cream and sugar. I’ll get used to it.   

I watch Shaun come in, grab his coffee and comes into my office. He shuts the door for privacy as he always does. 

“You know, your golf game may actually be improving.” He jokes with Parker.

“I think you’re right, I may have to start taking Zoloft before every outing. I didn’t feel my usual stress trying to win. I want a rematch with Ted, one of these days I’m going to beat him.”

“That maybe it for the year, they’re calling for snow possibly this weekend.”

“Not in California.” I reply back smartly. 

“Are you sure Paul will be ready? He looked goofy yesterday. Maybe we should postpone your trip a few more weeks. Some days you seem better, back to your own focused self.”

I sit up, take a sip of coffee and turn on the ‘Parker’. “He’ll be fine, he did party hard Saturday night. He went out, hooked up with someone and got drunk. I think he needed it and he swears he’ll be the ‘perfect Parker’.” 

“Okay, I’ve always trusted your judgement, you know that.”

“Relax. He’ll be fine.  He’s a fast learner, and has been studying our dashboard every day, reviewing my emails and asking a ton of questions. I’ve also tested him.”

“You’re right, he did impress me yesterday with his response to my question. But he didn’t look the part.”

“Once I put him in one of my suits and add pomade his hair, he’ll be me for everyone to see. Now get out of here, I have Yvonne to deal with and you have TriTech problems.” 

“Better you than me.” He chuckles about my Yvonne comment that I got from Jenny earlier. He heads back to his office while I admire my perfect Parker appearance in the reflection of my office window.

The morning flies by with meetings and phone calls. It’s surprisingly easy being Parker. I just make decisions based on the history I find or common sense. Before lunch, I shut my door and call my burner phone to check on Parker.

“Bro, you up?” 

He answers sounding barely awake. “Yeah, rough night last night. I don’t know what happened.”

“Greg’s fucking drugs. No more till you get to California and see a real doctor.”

“I’m seeing my therapist today, telling him I’m through and feeling much better.”

“You’re going to ‘see’ him to tell him that? I wouldn’t. Just call him.”

“I have an appointment at 1pm.”

“Oh that’s what Jenny asked about, it’s just marked as personal on your calendar. I told her uncle Jim was in town and you were taking a long lunch.”

“I’m not looking forward to it—“

I interrupt him. “Don’t stress yourself out, I’ll handle him. I’ll tell him I’m seeing another therapist that Greg recommended and thinking of a PTSD treatment center. You don’t owe him anything really.”

“That would be great, it’s Doctor Pomme, he’s in my phone.”

“I’ll keep it short and sweet. What are you doing today then?”

“I think I’ll start packing, hit the gym and get a ticket to fly out to California on Thursday. You okay with that?”

“So let’s not tell Shaun you’re leaving early. I just told him Saturday and he wanted me to postpone it a few weeks to make sure I was ready for the role.”

“That’s fine, I won’t mention a word to him tomorrow or Wednesday. No use in worrying him over last night or he’ll wonder why I’m speeding things up instead of taking a few more weeks.”

“Hey, what do you do for lunch?” I hit him up on basic personal information.

“Oh today with the doctor’s appointment, I’d just grab a sandwich from Mac’s Hoagie shop across the street, bring it back to the office to eat. Other days we’ll pile in someone’s car and go to Beef’s a few blocks away. There’s ‘Robey’s Dinner’ on the second floor, or the food court on the first floor. Robey’s has the best Philly cheese steaks on the planet. Shaun and Joel are always up for lunch since you pay.” He chuckles a little. 

“Now I’m hungry, think I’ll try the Hoagie shop.”

“Thanks a lot for doing this for me.” He hangs up.

“Not a problem. It’s like be kids again, kind of fun.” Plus I’m getting a new life out of this. 

As I was talking to him, I had another thought. Maybe I’ll take Shaun’s advice, hold off a few weeks, continue talking to Dr. Pomme and make a huge recovery. Paul Thomas will be the one in California for weeks, maybe months. It’ll give me time to figure out more of a plan for dealing with him.

RECOVERY

Dr. Pomme’s office is just a block away in the Liberty building. I get there a little early and make small talk with Marge, his receptionist.

I’m buzzed into the his office on time and greeted by a tall bearded individual with a bald head. “Parker, how are you today.”

“I’m feeling really good today.”

“Great, you look good, rested. New suit?”

“No, I’ve had this for years, it’s one of my favorites.” I relax into the chair across from him and cross my legs

“I was worried about you this weekend to be honest. I didn’t want you leaving so upset on Friday, not sure if you were having a breakdown or breakthrough.”

“Honestly I didn’t know either. I was scared, I had a flashback and it seemed so real. I was reliving everything.” 

“So what did you do when you left here?”

“I stopped for lunch and even had a beer. In my head I kept telling my ‘you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.’ I went back to the office and finished my day.”

“That’s excellent, you confronted it head on and powered through your day. And the weekend?”

“Doc, Friday night I chilled at home, ordered a pizza and watched some TV. Saturday I worked out and had dinner with some friends in SoHo. Sunday I golfed at Ferry Point with Shaun and some friends. It was a great weekend all in all.”

“No depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety?”

“No, it’s like I’m a different man but the Zoloft is helping with the highs and lows. Maybe that’s it?”

“You do seem better, more at peace. I think this is a very positive event for you. No panic attacks all weekend? Not even a little?"

"Not one. I'm trying to focus on other things, positive things like friends and family and work. I think one Zoloft in the morning helps me not to overreact to situations. And working out helps me to sleep soundly."

"Excellent, excellent, Friday was what I was hoping for. Keep with the Zoloft for now." He pulls out his prescription pad and scribbles more Zoloft for me. My own bottle like the one Parker keeps near and dear to him, that's part of his identity. "I'll see you Thursday Parker."

I head back to the office with a spring in my step. Lunch is my typical Italian sub I eat while my phone is beeping like mad and my mailbox if filling up. Apparently, Parker must be busy because he hasn't responded to any emails this morning, only the new Parker has.

Shaun drops in with a big grin while I’m reviewing emails. “You’ll never guess who’s paying up and avoiding bankruptcy.”

“Hmmm, wild guess—Aerion?”

“Give the man a stuffed animal. Now you won’t be hounding me and Robert. They got a huge infusion of cash from Airbus.” 

“I’ll keep hounding and believe it when I see a $900,000 deposit in our account.”

“Cashier’s check hand delivered tomorrow morning.”

I turn to my computer and open our Chase account. “Don’t see it yet.” I grin at him like only Parker could.

“Wow, joking like old times. How did things go with Dr. Pomme?”

“Well as he said, I either had a breakdown or breakthrough after our last session.”

“I’d say breakthrough. You’ve never been normal but getting back to your abnormal self would be great.” He smartly mocks me.

“I thought about your comment about waiting till Paul is up to speed. You may have a point. I’ll see how I’m feeling after my session on Thursday.”

“One step at a time. Oh, you up for dinner with Ed Reynolds and his wife on Friday? La Dolce Vita…” He dangles the name like it’ll will entice me. I’ll have to find out what it means to Parker.

“Oh yeah, if I go to California, my flight leaves at noon on Saturday.”

“You need a ride?”

“Nah, thanks but I’ll have Paul take me. He needs practice driving around New York.”

Shaun continues to catch me up on his issues, Jenny keeps me on my toes and the rest of my day flies by. Taylor picks me up and gets me home about 6:30. Parker is watching TV and has a pizza in front of him.

“Bro,  how was work?” He wakes up seeing me.

“No problems whatsoever. Being CEO has its perks.  I ask and my staff provides. Jenny is a godsend.”

“I started going through some of your sent emails and other than you being lenient on Orion Tech’s blatant theft, you did great. I read a few wondering if I sent them myself, then looked at the time stamp and knew I hadn’t.”

“And you were always the softy growing up.”

“Not when it comes to business and Orion Tech is trying to screw us over. I’ll call him personally tomorrow.”

“Good to know. So Dr. Pomme was okay with you getting a 2nd opinion, actually encouraged it and the door is always open. He asked how I was after ‘our’ session on Friday, and I said I was fine.”

“That’s good because he’s Shaun’s father’s best friend and I’m sure I come up in conversations. Maybe I’m paranoid but Dr. Pomme could be used against me in ousting me from Thomas Financial.”

“Wow, small world huh? So you only took the Zoloft today? You sound good. By the way, you’ll be glad to know Aerion is paying up tomorrow, the full amount.”

“Yeah yeah, and I believe in Santa still too.”

“Shaun assured me, they got a huge infusion of cash from Airbus. Here’s something funny, Shaun says you should postpone the Refuge until you’re sure I’m up to speed being you. ‘Just a few more weeks’ he proposed. I told him I’d think about it and decide before Saturday.”

“He is totally clueless. But look at you—in my custom Brioni, hair slicked perfectly, nailing my executive image without my help.”

“Based on your wardrobe, it’s your only image and I can appreciate it. Plus your Instagram helps. You always have a pocket square tucked elegantly in your suit jacket, you always use an Italian knot with a single dimple and your favorite watch is your Omega, sometimes a Rolex like today.” I lift up my sleeve and show him. “You all set for California?”

“Packed and flying out to California on a redeye Wednesday night. Found a quaint Airbnb cabin on the coast in Carmel for a few nights. Sort of a miniature vacation before Refuge. I just need to get through the next few days without any breakdowns in front of anyone.”

“I can give you a ride, still know my way around New York.”

“No, that’s okay, I always use Execucab service. Taylor will bring me home as usual, I’ll change into something comfortable and have them get me to the airport.”

THE SWITCH

The next few days fly by. I’m at home watching Parker’s days unfold live in front of me. When he thinks no one is paying attention, he grabs his head as if in pain. He doesn’t wait till noon to start on the Scotch either. He’s taking three Zolofts per day—breakfast, lunch and dinner. He got through Tuesday acting and appearing like his normal self. I don’t know what happened Wednesday though, when he lost it with a customer no less. He went from nice charming guy to raving loon in five minutes on the phone with him. I’ll definitely have to apologize and fix it tomorrow.

He tells Jenny he’s got some errands to run and skips out at 3:30pm. An hour later Parker walks through the door looking exhausted and in a rotten mood. He barely says hello and runs up the stairs. I follow him into his bedroom while he starts stripping out of his work clothes, then jumps in the shower.

While he’s showering, I pick up after him, hanging up his suit after emptying his iPhone, wallet, pills and keys out of the pockets. He comes out looking refreshed.

“Wow, I needed that. What a day of meetings, customer complaining about terms he agreed to years ago, and IT wanting money for new equipment. I lost it at one point but luckily Jenny was at lunch and Shaun was meeting with Chase all afternoon.” He starts dressing in jeans, v-neck sweater and pair of his old Nike sneakers.

“That’s good. So I packed your backpack for you… noise cancelling headphones, iPad for entertainment and my wallet, passport and burner phone. My debit card is there and has about $10,000 in the bank, PIN is 0286, my social security number, just in case you need it.”

He digs through the bag, checking everything. He tucks my wallet into his back pocket but leaves everything else in the bag. “That’s great, I totally forgot about that. I plan on sleeping the entire direct trip. Oh, my PIN for everything is the last four of my social security—2308. I don’t know what I have in there but my black Amex is unlimited and if they call to verify a purchase, the PIN is 2308 also.”

“Oh, my class ring and watch Paul.” I remind him and he hands them over without hesitating. It slips easily on my finger with a perfect fit crowning me Parker. The Rolex is my favorite but tomorrow I’ll go back to my usual Omega watch. 

Nice, now I have complete access to his financial life. It was the only piece missing but I would have guessed it correctly. I tuck his wallet, iPhone and keys into my pockets. When he thinks I’m not looking, he sneaks his prescription bottles into the backpack. I help him drag his luggage down the stair just as the Execucab pulls in the driveway. 

Once he’s gone, my mind turns to my new life. Paul is gone, I’m now Parker and feeling great. I run up the stairs and slip on his favorite Omega. It’s 4pm and I can make it back to the office before 5pm. I strip out of my jeans and run to the hamper putting back on his socks and underwear he wore all day long. I jump into his pants, pull on his dress shirt then knot a perfect Italian knotted tie on the first attempt. I pull on the lapel vest, suit coat, tuck everything back in my pockets, including my pills and stare at Parker Thomas in the mirror. My hair needs a little pomade but after that’s worked in, I’m the epitome of Parker. 

On the living room sofa is ‘my’ briefcase and topcoat I wore earlier. In the garage, I grab the keys for the 911 and head back to work, finishing the day Parker started. People are starting to leave as I walk to my office. Jenny greets me with her usual efficiency.

“Parker, I didn’t think I’d see you back.”

“Oh, just a quick errand to pick up my baby at the Porsche dealer.”

“Well you didn’t miss much. IT put that request on your desk. Stahl called asking what you said to Ben Mosser to piss him off.”

“Have you seen Shaun?”

“I think they went to Beef’s for a quick happy hour, you just missed him.”

She looks at me with that ‘do you need anything else look’. “Well, have a good evening Jenny.” She grabs her coat and leaves. I hang up my coat and suit jacket and jump behind my desk. There’s a half glass of Scotch to finish along with one of the Zolofts in my pocket. 

First thing I do is call Ben Mosser and apologize for my outburst earlier. I blame it on some bad personal news and unfairly took it out on him. I promise to review the numbers again tomorrow and call him back. He accepted my apology, thanked me for the personal touch and was sorry for whatever happened. 

I call Shaun to check in. “Hey bro, Jenny says you were looking for me?”

“Just about joining us at Beef’s, we’ll be here for another hour at least, probably grab dinner upstairs. I have the night off, Susan and Hanna are having a mother/daughter sleepover at her sister’s house.”

“I’ll be right there.” Beef’s is just a few blocks away but I take an Uber for ease.

We’re there for hours talking shit, drinking and eating junk food. Shaun looks at me odd when he sees me drinking a martini. I whisper to him ‘no Zoloft all day’ and he gives me a proud squeeze on my shoulder. We move to the restaurant on the upper level for dinner and we’re there till 9pm. 

Afterwards, I head back to the office to pick up my briefcase and check on emails.  I just spent 4 hours with my best friend and coworkers, playing them perfectly. Here I am, in ‘my’ office wearing a beautiful $8,000 custom Brioni suit, $50,000 Rolex and $400 Brioni tie. I’m Parker Thomas and can now start making changes slowly. First I respond to a few emails. I then call Taylor and cancel his security services, telling him I’m working through my fears and this is a first step. The truth is, I have four gorgeous automobiles in my garage getting dusty. It’s time to get back on the horse is what I’ll tell Dr. Pomme and Shaun tomorrow. 

It’s great not having to worry about Parker as I enter ‘my’ home. I duplicate all his typical actions. I head upstairs, place my briefcase, wallet on the dresser then change into his pajama shorts and t-shirt. Back downstairs go to the front door, grab my mail and start opening it. I’m taking over every aspect of his life. 

My iPhone dings with a text message from a new contact.

Unknown: Hey sexy Parker how are you. It’s Chris from Pronto the other night.

His timing is perfect, but instead of texting him back, I call him immediately. 

“Evening sexy. I’ve been thinking of your kiss since Saturday.” I greet him.

“Same, you turn me on so much with your dimpled smile and sexy scruff. Can’t wait to lick it again.”

“How about I meet you at Pronto tomorrow night? Say 8pm, we’ll go from there. I don’t live far from there.”

“It’s a date Parker. Sleep tight babe.”

FIRST DAY 

I head up to my new bedroom, take off my suit and immediately fall to sleep in the California king bed. His usual alarm wakes me and I continue as Parker. I start to think of ‘my’ image today, how to look like my hot shot CEO brother. Scrolling through my Instagram, there’s a pic of him in a pinstripe double breasted suit from a month ago. He comments how it’s his favorite suit—now it’s mine. 

I actually love my new stylish wardrobe with it’s custom fitted suits, shirts and shoes. I adopt his ‘wall street’ image with the same custom double breasted suit, black pattern tie and pencil stripe shirt. It’s identical to what he wore a few months ago. It’s the perfect suit for my first day as CEO of Thomas Financial. My Omega, as usual, is my watch for today. 

Since I’m driving myself again, I take my X5 and get into the office early. It’s great being accepted as Parker. I’m in the office going through emails when Shaun stops in my office. He comes over to my side of the desk, sits on the corner and I rotate my chair to face him. 

I look at him odd. “What’s going on?”

“You beat me into the office Stefan?”

“So? I couldn’t sleep, didn’t take any sleeping pills.” I know he’s testing my identity.

“Stefan?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell I’m your best friend, your only friend?” I run my hair through my hair, per our agreement weeks ago. “You want to see my scar?” Without waiting, I stand up, lift my pant leg and show him my scar.

“Hey, no fair, I have other friends. It’s just that you’re in early, you drove yourself today and don’t look like death warmed over.”

“Do you want to check my fingerprints? How about your antics at Pebble Beach?” Thanks to Parker’s loose lips, I have a ton of personal stories about our relationship.

“Okay, okay, I’m convinced, you’re Parker.”

“I’m feeling really good. I didn’t get anxiety thinking of driving to work. I think the Zoloft was fucking with my brain. I decided to stop cold turkey. Dr. Pomme says to take ‘as needed’ so that’s what I’m doing.” 

“Wow buddy, I’m really happy for you. You seem sharper, I noticed it Sunday when you barely beat me.”

“Barely? I beat you convincingly, and made your dad nervous.” I look at him incredulously.

“Obviously, you’re on other drugs. What are they and share with me.” He laughs. “So are you ready for Cooper Inc today?”

“Yeah, all set for this morning, another reason why I’m in early.” 

“Well, if you need anything, let me know.” He stands up and heads to his office. He’ll never doubt my identity again.  I follow Parker’s routine naturally. Jenny comes in with my coffee and start reviewing my schedule. The Cooper team comes in and we review their request. It’s such a minor request and Cooper himself is a Penn Alumni also, so I sign off on the paperwork.  

At my therapist appointment, I inform Dr. Pomme that I’m back to driving myself and I’m cutting back on Zoloft. He’s delighted with my progress and probes the reason for this new found outlook. I googled PTSD recovery this morning and incorporated some great buzzwords into my explanation. Once he heard what he wanted, he’s thrilled with his success and agrees to see me on an ‘as needed’ basis. 

I stop in Shaun’s office when I get back and shut the door. He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face as I take my seat.

“What’s going on Parker?”

“I’m on an ‘as needed’ basis with Dr. Pomme now.”

“That’s great, what about the Zoloft?”

“I haven’t taken one in a day and a half now and I feel great. I feel so clear headed, the first time in months.”

“So what about the Refuge?”

“Well, you were probably right about Paul not being ready but now I’m feeling like I don’t need the Refuge.”

“Dammit, I’m stuck with you?”

“Ha, you’d be lost without me, and you know it.”

Back in my private bathroom I check myself in the mirror. I identity is flawless. My tie is perfectly knotted, my hair matches Parker’s and I have his cocky, confident demeanor. Slipping into my new life is easy thanks to Parker’s coaching and my own efforts.

The afternoon flies by without any major issues. Shaun lets me know he’s skipping out early to take his wife and in-laws out for dinner. He’s thrilled to hear about my date with a new guy, confessing he never liked 

At home I get ready for my date with Chris. I really like what ‘I’  wore out Saturday night with my friends, so I recycle it completely. It’s all ‘dressy casual’ Prada—light gray suit with long sleeve knit shirt and buckle dress shoes. I accessorize it a few wristbands and a less pretentious watch.

Chris shows up on time, we have drinks followed by dinner, then I take him home and we fuck most of the night away. Even though he’s a lawyer, he’s really impressed by my home and lifestyle—I was too a few weeks ago. He has to be downtown early so he’s up and out the door by 5:30. We make plans to see each other this weekend as I say goodbye. I jump in bed for another hour, reliving yesterday and last night in my head. 

TGIF 

Day two of being my brother. Having sex half the night and popping a Zoloft will definitely give me Parker’s usual strung out look. To look the part is becoming the easiest part of the day—jumping in the shower and picking an appropriate out. I keep it simple with all Tom Ford Bespoke, white shirt and simple white pocket square. It’s a less flashy look for me but Parker has worn very similar outfits over the past year according to his Instagram.

I drive my 911 Targa to work and pull into my spot just as Shaun pulls in. I get out, button my suit coat and grab my briefcase.

“Wow, driving the baby?” Shaun comments.

“Sure, no rain or anything today. I just got her back from the dealer and wanted to check her out.”

“Life isn’t fair. You get to drive that and I have an SUV with child seat in mine.”

“You could put a child seat in my back seat, you should buy one.” I joke back. 

“I’ll just borrow your’s then, see if it works for me.” He laughs and I laugh along. “So no problem driving to work? No panic attacks?”

“A little anxiety, I wouldn’t call it panic or fear. I’ve noticed it’s worst at night.” It’s plausible according to my research into PTSD.”

“As long as you’re okay bro.”

We stroll in together, just two executives starting their day. He heads to his office and I head to mine. Jenny greets me with coffee and my schedule when I get situated. She tells me the latest about her puppy and I tell her about my date last night. A few minutes after she leaves, ‘Paul’ calls me from California.  I get up and close my door to take it.

“Hey Paul, good to hear from you. How are things?”

“I lost Thursday.”

“You lost Thursday? What are you talking about? Too much drinking?”

“Well yeah, there was that too but have you ever had mushrooms? They’re amazing.”

“No, they fuck with your mind. You can OD on them too. They can cause hallucinations, and heighten other disorders like anxiety. Where did you get the mushrooms?”

“My buddy Johnny got them for me?”

“Johnny? You’re fucked up.”

“I’m fine, Johnny is my buddy, he’s the manager here.” He talks dopey.

“How far are you from the Refuge?”

“It’s just up the road, about 3 miles from here. I plan on checking in after lunch today.”

“That’s great. So listen to this, Shaun is still clueless about you being gone. He comes in your office, sits a few feet away, talks shop and hasn’t caught on. I told him I’m feeling so good being off the Zoloft that I’m having second thoughts on the Refuge.”

“He was never the sharpest tool in the nerf ball factory.” He laughs. “So just be me till I get back.”

“That’s what I’m thinking, then no one can say you had a breakdown and admitted yourself for treatment.”

“Oh my god! That’s devious but great! I’ll tell people it was all Shaun’s idea but I never followed through with it because I was feeling much better just talking to my therapist.”

“Yeah, as long as I can keep fooling Shaun.  Any pointers, shared secrets only you would know, things you share?” My brother starts spewing off everything they share. There’s so much history that I’ll have to listen to this phone call a few times to drill it into my head. As soon as I hang up with Paul, Joel and Shaun grab me for lunch and we just head downstairs for a quick one. I’m so at ease with Shaun after all I’ve learned. I’m back in Parker’s office when late in the afternoon I get a call from California.

“Parker Thomas.” I answer professionally.

“Mr. Thomas, this is Dr. Anoia from the Refuge. I’m calling to let you know your brother has checked in. We’ll be updating you as often or as little as you want. He does exhibit signs of PTSD but we haven’t done a full examination or test procedure on him.  These are all just initial impressions.  I want you to know, this looks like a case of complex PTSD, aggravated by the use of drugs.  This could take time to sort out but he’s come to the right place.”

“Please notify weekly of his progress or sooner if needed. What kind of time frame?”

“I’d guess two months max. We just need to cleanse him of what he’s taken and daily therapy.”

“Whatever it takes, money is no object doctor.” I play the concerned brother.

“Call anytime and once a week, we’ll email a summary of the entire week.”

“Thank you doctor.” 

Late in the day Shaun stops by, shutting the door. “Hey, so since you’re not going to California, looks like an Indian summer, Golf?”

“Sure, maybe I let you win. Who?”

“Joel and Todd, 9am tee time.”

“Sure I’m in, going to pick me up?”

“Ah, your turn buddy. Did you tell Paul about the Refuge yet?”

“Just that I was feeling better and he noticed it too. I’ll tell him tonight when I see him. I think he was getting worried about pulling the charade off. Between us, he probably could with you keeping an eye on him. Oddly, he doesn’t seem worried about money, just that he had a ‘stash’ in a safe deposit box and needed his key which I had in my safe.”

“Maybe he doesn’t need the $5m?”

I laugh out loud. “You don’t know Paul. He’s the tightest tight wad I know. He’ll expect it even if he only fills in for a day. Forget that he’s out of jail a year early, he’ll want his money.”

“Big plans for the weekend?” I ask like a friend.

“Hanna has a birthday party to go to tomorrow. It starts at noon and goes till about 5.”

“Just don’t tell me you’re dressing up as the clown.”

“Ha ha, not funny. How about I stop over tonight, order up some Pizza and watch the Johnson vs Gonzales match?”

“Sorry bro, I’ve got a date with Chris, a lawyer I met on the scruff app. We’re heading to Montauk, spending the night at his brother’s empty beach house.” I look at my watch. “I’m leaving as soon as you let me.” I fabricate an entire story to spend less time with him—less opportunity to giveaway my identity. After the last few days of being on stage, I just want some ‘Parker’ time at home.

“What about Paul?”

“Hell if I know, just as long as he doesn’t go out as me, wrecks one of my toys and gets me in trouble.”

PAUL BEING PARKER

I’m certain I could call Chris up and he’d come running over to my house but I’m taking it slow and really do want some me time. I leave the office early, get home and change out of my executive disguise. A long hot soak in my master bath helps me to relax. I dry off and change into my very own sweat pants and t-shirt I used to wear all the time. I’m going natural on the hair and skipping any jewelry.  For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself.

Dinner is just a pizza from down the street. When I go to answer the doorbell, I’m shocked to see Shaun greeting me instead of the pizza boy.

“Oh, ah hey there Shaun?” I question him, puzzled why he’s here. “Come on in. Parker isn’t here.”

Just then, the pizza boy comes running up the steps and hands me the pizza. I hand him $30, from my pocket and grab the pizza. “Want some pizza?”

I ordered my favorite—sausage and pepperoni, instead of Parker’s usual meat lovers.

“You’re a free man and this is your Friday night?”

“Well, when most of your friends are in jail or don’t talk to you, this is about it.” I explain the situation. “So Parker took off on some hot date, said not to expect him home tonight. He flew in the door, changed and took off. Mentioned not going to Refuge tomorrow, which makes sense if you’re fucking some stranger all night long.”

Shaun grabs a slice of pizza, takes a bite and tosses it back in the box. “Ewww, you need a night out bro.”

“What is with all the ‘bros’? You’re not frat boys.”

“We were frat boys, you wouldn’t understand. It’s hard to look at you and not see Parker.”

“Ah yeah, that’s normal for identical twins ‘bro’.” I use it back on him.

“Come on, let’s get out of here, get some real food and get wasted.”

“Okay, there’s the Rusty Nail just down the street, seems like a busy place.”

“No, Think big, think Manhattan. We have some of the best bars in the world just 40 minutes away.”

I moan. “Do I need to dress up?”

“Yes, of course, it’s Manhattan. Besides, you have a closet full of tailored suits upstairs at your disposal.”

“What if we run into someone that knows Parker, they’ll think I’m him. He might get pissed.” I pretend to be worried.

“So, you’re with me, and everyone will just think you’re him. Think of it as training.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’ll be needing me at this point. He seems much better.”

“I still think he should, can’t hurt. Run upstairs and change ‘Parker’, don’t want to miss happy hour.”

It’s ironic, my brother’s best friend helping me be his best friend after spending the last few days already as his best friend. “I’ll just wear what he wore today, it should still be on his bed from earlier.”

“That’s fine, and don’t forget the goo in your hair.”

“Great, so I’ll look like a pretentious yuppy banker.”

I run upstairs and start dressing in what I had on all day. I add a different watch and ring, because the real Parker would still be wearing his’. I work some pomade into my hair, part it perfectly and join Shaun in the living room. 

“Bro, you look just like Parker. Wow, if anyone sees us out, they’ll know it’s Shaun and Parker having out after work. He was wearing that same suit.”

“Yeah, it was on his lounge chair in his bedroom. Bro, let’s get out of here. I’m hungry and the pizza is cold.” I say in my best Parker impression. 

We jump into his SUV and he keeps looking over at me. “For the life of me, I cannot get over you two. In college he said he had a brother but nothing about being a twin.”

“Really, well I wanted my own life, so I went to Penn State. He stuck his nose up once he got to Penn—Mr. Ivy League.”

We park at the office, and walk to the Rusty Nail. As we get inside, Shaun looks around and whispers. “You’re Parker, I’m going to call you Parker from now to. Our coworkers, Tom, Joel and Todd are here standing by the bar.  Tom is sales, Joel and Todd are marketing.”

Shaun pulls out his wallet and give his credit card to run a tab. “You can’t be paying with a Paul Thomas credit card. The night’s on me, besides Susan will know I’m behaving myself if I’m with Parker. She really likes you. I’ll make sure to take plenty of pics and post them on IG.”

The only thing new about this happy hour is the bar. It’s my first time here but I’ve been out with these guys on Wednesday night. We’re there for hours eating junk food like wings, then watching the boxing match on TV. He’s coaching me on being Parker constantly, telling me details he knows about him. I got a good buzz on, while Shaun stopped halfway through the night. 

When we get back to the parking garage, he looks at me odd. “Let’s go back to your office.”

I don’t argue. “I don’t have a key.”

“I do.” He grins.

We pass security without questions and get up to my office. He opens my door and orders me to take a seat.

“Bro, you look just like Parker did today, just like him only he wasn’t shit face like you.” He laughs.

“Bro, have a little dignity for the CEO of Thomas Financial, will you?” I laugh too.

“Fuck you are him, that’s for sure.”

He tests me with some really basic questions and I pass with flying colors. I ask some questions back, even though I already knew the answers. We’re not there long, he just wanted to see me as Parker. On the way home I start laying the groundwork for Paul’s departure.

“So, since I’m probably not going to be needed, I may take off to Washington State to start over.”

“Really?”

“Sure, I have an ex that lives there, needs help with his brokerage firm. Not that I really need the job but have always loved Seattle. Between what Parker owes me and some money in a Cayman account, I don’t need to work that hard.”

“But if you’re not needed, you still expect to be paid?”

“Of course I do. He’s the one not holding up his part of the agreement. I’ve been studying for weeks now and from what I’ve seen, $5m is nothing to him. Come on, what’s Thomas Financial worth? His stock?”

“Wow, you may look like him but that’s about it. He did spring you from jail early, spent a half a million just doing that.”

“Yeah and didn’t visit me once in prison.”

It got quiet after that exchange but it’s exactly what I wanted. Once Paul is gone, he won’t doubt my falling-out with him or wonder why he doesn’t hear from Paul. I can’t wait till ‘Parker’ plays golf on Sunday with Shaun. He drops me off with a disgusted ‘Later’ brushoff. I don’t blame him, I don’t like Paul either—I make a much better Parker.

FREE WEEKEND

It takes a while to wake up after a night of drinking. It’s 8am—somehow I slept through the alarm and missed my session with my trainer at Lifetime Fitness. I find his workout bag and the trainer squeezes me in late. I’m there till noon working out. On the way home I start thinking about the rest of my weekend. I know I need to stop in the office to catch up on paperwork—approving payrolls, expense accounts and new spending like the IT request. While I’m downtown, I might as well hit up a few of my favorite mens shops. 

I’m Parker Thomas and need to think of myself as the only Parker Thomas and keep up his habits and mannerisms. I get home, take a quick shower and search my closet for a CEO appropriate outfit for a Saturday. I open up my Instagram and start scrolling through it while scanning his closet until something jumps  out at me.

Inspiration strikes when an almost year old post catches my attention—gray plaid sport coat, a black dress shirt and dark gray dress pants. I can’t see the shoes but Parker loves wearing loafers and I spot a light gray pair to go with everything. I dig thought the closet, manage to find the entire outfit, lay everything out on the bed and inspect it. It’s perfect—business casual enough for the office while casual for shopping on a Saturday. 

Transforming myself in Parker is always arousing—slowly adding each item, building up my image. When I look in the mirror, Parker is staring back from the mirror. I smile, check my hair making sure my part is perfect. I walk into my bedroom, over to my dresser and add my class ring and Omega watch. Once my iPhone and wallet are added, I’m ready for my typical work day.  

My favorite toy is the 911 Targa for sure. I jump in, retract the roof and put on my sunglasses. It’s a little chilly for an early winter day but I don’t care. I’m completely at ease in the office, following everything Parker did the past few weekends. Shaun calls as I’m finishing up. 

“Hey Bro.” I answer my frat brother.

“Can I get the death penalty for killing a group of 5 yr olds?”

I just laugh. “No, you can’t. It’d be justifiable childslaughter. That bad?”

“Yeah. I’m in charge of bouncy house. You in the office?”

“Just finishing up, going to do a little shopping, doing dinner with Ken and John. Is the bouncy house really bouncy?”  I laugh at him.

“Yes, almost broke my neck rescuing lil Alex who got stuck in a corner, believe me, it’s bouncy enough. Hey, don’t forget golf tomorrow. You don’t have to pick me up, I’ll just meet you there. I’ve got a list of errands to run now, like returning party crap for Linda.”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you there.” 

I pack up my office and head out shopping. First stop is ‘Pro Golf’, where I spend quite a bit of money on the latest golf clothes.  Based on the many receipts from my previous spending sprees, I do this every few months. I spending $1000 on new shoes, pants and shirts. I make sure to keep with ‘my’ conservative style. 

The next stop is Garrison Bespoke on 5th Avenue. From what I’ve seen in my closet, a third of my suits are Garrison. There’s a receipt to pick up something a few weeks ago, which Parker hasn’t bother to do. I’m recognized and treated like royalty as I enter the store. I’m taken to a private changing room where I try on my new custom suit. It’s a new navy 3 piece suit with a lapel vest. The fit is as expected—perfect. A team of salesmen help me select a few ties and shirts to match with it. I select a few more items, spending a few thousand on shirts, ties and a leather jacket. 

The X5 is loaded with my purchases and it takes a few trips to unload at home. I help myself to some wine, take a break when my friends Colin and Jeff call to do dinner tonight. I accept and also invite Chris along to start meeting ‘my’ friends. It’s a fun evening with them and probably our last Saturday get-together if Oklahoma is the success Jeff expects it to be. I spend the night at Chris’ downtown but don’t sleep in due to golf with Shaun. 

The next day I get to Ferry Point early to have a relaxing breakfast on the patio but also check out the place. I call Shaun and he agrees to meet me at 8 am. I’ve already changed and having coffee when Shaun shows up with a pat on the shoulder and a big smile for his frat bro. 

“I shouldn’t be playing today, my back is killing me.” He whines.

“Making excuses for losing already?” I counter him.

“It’s true, those 5 year olds worked me over. My back from that damn bouncy house, then hauling Hanna and others on my back killed my knees.”

“Whatever bro, you’re buying drinks at the 19th hole later regardless of your excuses.” I laugh at him.

“So I need to give you a heads up on something that happened.”

“More delays in finance? I’m expecting it.”

“No, it’s about Paul.”

“Paul? What about him?” I look at him puzzled but have been expecting him to bring up Friday.

“Have you spoken to him about maybe not needing his services?” He says discretely. 

“Not really, haven’t seen him since Thursday night. He noticed I was feeling better and told him I was putting off the Refuge for a week or two, to give him time. He seemed happy for me, maybe relieved for himself? Why?”

“I spoke with him and he got bent out of shape when I mentioned it. Said you would still owe him $5m regardless.”

“When did you talk to him?” I question.

“Friday night, I stopped by on my way home to drop off the IRS filings for you. He was there and we started talking. You’re right, he would need more time to be you. I did test him on some things and he was passable as you.”

“He didn’t say a word about it or the filings?” I question him.

“He’s a little rough around the edges but he could do it just based on looks. Get him in one of your suits and no one doubts his identity. I felt bad for him, alone on a Friday night ordering pizza, wearing sweats like housewife, no real friends so I took him out.”

I look at him oddly? “You too him out? Where?”

“Just to the Rusty Nail for happy hour. He had a blast.”

“You had him out in public? Was anyone at the Nail?”

“Tom, Joel and Todd. We did happy hour, then dinner.”

“Jesus Shaun, what were you thinking, introducing him to those guys?”

“Relax, they thought he was you and they didn’t question a thing.”

“How could they not? What, I just went home and changed into jeans while they were working?”

“Well, he borrowed your suit from earlier and they had no clue he wasn’t you. He shot the shit about the Eagles and Flyers—.”

I cut him off. “So you had him impersonate me, wear my favorite suit and then what? What else?”

“Nothing really, I took him home and we started talking about how much better you’re doing,  and that’s when he talked about the money. He talked about some money in the Caymans and moving to Seattle and taking a job with his ex.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how much money he managed to hide but I held a safe deposit key for him and he went there to retrieve some things. He didn’t say what. I hope he does go to live with his ex, I don’t want him living with me. He asked to borrow my Vette to drive out to Portland to visit him. Paul doesn’t have a drivers license, if he got pulled over, he’d try to tell them he’s me and that ‘I’ forgot my wallet. He was pissed I said no but driving across country without a license is insane.”

“He said Seattle, not Portland.” Shaun corrects my fake mistake.

“Whatever, it’s on the other side of the country and that’s fine by me.”

Shaun shakes his head in disbelief. “I told him you paid a lot of money to get him out but he’s pissed you never visited him. Are you going to pay him the $5m?”

“Are you nuts?  He probably has $10m squirreled away in some Cayman account. I did enough for him while he hasn’t done a thing for me.” Actually its more like $5m.

“Just don’t burn bridges, you may need him. Maybe you’ll need a kidney someday.”  

“With the way he drinks, he’ll be needing a liver from me.”

“Yeah, he did knock down a lot of beer Friday, no martinis,”

“So I was drunk in front of everyone. Beer, yeah that’s Paul.”

“Tom was hammered. Joel drove everyone home.”

“Don’t do that again. I sort of hate him being out there as me, and you helped him.”

“Oh come on, He did a decent job as you. Unlike you though, he kept the shop talk to a minimum.”

Todd and Joel shows up at this time. We finish our talk and all head out to our carts. We have a blast and I beat everyone. Joel and Todd are hacks, and I manage to convincingly beat Shaun. At the 19th hole, without Ted and Shaun Sr there, Shaun slips his phone number to Mel and whispers to her. 

IN PLACE 

I’m excited to be back in the office Monday. I’m impeccably dressed in my new Garrison Bespoke 3 piece suit, custom shirt and ties. I add a pocket square as is ‘my’ style. His style is now mine. Having his wardrobe helps but I also make sure anything I purchase reflects his tastes, not mine.

My life unfolds easily with no one questioning my actions or identity. When Shaun mentions ‘You’re back to your old self’, I know he won’t be questioning my identity ever again. I’m running a billion dollar company as well or better than Parker. I’m meeting clients, having lunches and happy hours with Shaun and other friends. 

I’m still learning a lot about Parker’s life daily but its subtle learning. I use all of ‘my’ friends and contact to fill in little details. Shaun’s wife ‘reminds’ me of our joint vacations or other special event. Jenny is the office gossip and fills in other events. When Paul returns, I’ll then hit him up on his perspective on them. 

I tell Shaun that Paul is whoring around, finally got his license and busy connecting with old friends. He doesn’t seem too enamored with Paul anymore after our happy hour. He’s not happy that I’m considering paying him the $5 million.

I hear from the Refuge that Paul’s the first week was tough. He tried to smuggle in his meds, stitched into the lining of his luggage. Blood tests revealed them, and a detail search uncovered them. Withdrawal was painful for him, preventing any real therapy. He was demanding to be let out, but I’m the only one who can approve it.

Things are getting serious with Chris. The sex is great, and he’s not clingy. He’s met all my friends, and attended Oklahoma with me, Shaun and Susan. My personal life has never been better. Winter is here finally so no more golf at Ferry Point but planning our annual ski trip to Killington VT. 

Refuge’s doctor reveals that Paul has entered the ‘controlled medication’ phase and his response is very slow. He’s started daily therapy, and will slowly phased into group therapy next week. They estimate at least two more weeks of treatment.

Four weeks as the only Parker and things couldn’t be better. We’ve landed a key new client thanks to my quick thinking on long term financing options. Shaun was thrilled with my outside-the-box thinking. We celebrated with a long happy hour at the Rusty Nail. I’ve replaced Parker completely. I have his work habits as my own. His style and attitude are now mine.

Thomas Financial’s quarterly board meeting is the typical event lead by the CEO. I just studied the recordings of previous meetings and build on top of them. It was stressful leading up to it but once I kick it off, I’m Parker Thomas. I easily handle questions about Thomas Financial, the upcoming dividend and future growth. Afterwards, board members come up to me, congratulating me on ‘my’ handling of the company. No one dare mention my personal health issues but my performance proved that it’s all behind me. 

The latest update from Refuge sounds a very positive.  He’ll be back in a weeks, able to take back his life. I need him in place for a week while I have my fingerprints changed. I’ll use his week to sow doubt of his identity and reinforce to Shaun and others  that I’m Parker.

I start setting the groundwork for his return. I have my teeth whitened so that Shaun will notice ‘Paul’s’ when he’s in my office. I keep my regular haircut appointment with Steve Bonacorsi but have him give me very short sides. When Paul gets back, he won’t be able to go see Steve for a haircut so he’ll end up with a supercut style. When I debrief Parker about the last month, I’ll leave out details like Shaun hooking up with Mel, or some of my business deals. It’ll be little details like these that’ll catch Shaun’s attention and have him questioning who’s who. 

THE RETURN

I’m in my office Saturday morning reviewing paperwork when I get a call from my old burner phone. Parker must be a free man and it’s time to put my plan to work.

“Hey bro.” I answer the phone.

“Oh man, it’s good to be out of that place. I’m at O’Hare waiting for my flight, I get into JFK about 3pm, AA flight 273. Can you pick me up?”

“Sure, I’ll see you then.  So was it worth it?” 

“I still have nightmares at night, not every night just once in a while. My anxiety is gone, so yes I know it helped, but will it come back.”

“That’s great, I’ll see you then.”

I take my time finishing up in the office then head directly to JFK. Parker’s plane lands on time and I text him my location at arrival. There’s a tapping on the hatch of the X5. I pop the  opener.

“Hey Parker.” Parker greets me with his name, and jumps in the front seat. He’s in the same clothes he left in but he needs a shave and haircut as I expected. 

“Wow, I guess I look more like you than you do, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think about a haircut till I saw you. How’s my baby?”

“Don’t worry, I only put 10,000 miles on her.” I joke back knowing he’s talking about Thomas Financial.

“No, how’s Thomas Financial?”

“It’s never been in more capable hands. It’s in better shape than when you left it. I had to handle the board meeting but I had previous board meeting videos to study. I purchased a new Garrison suit for it even.”

“So does Shaun know I’ve been gone? Were you discovered?”

“Paul, look at me. He didn’t doubt anything. I told him ‘Paul’ flew to Seattle to visit his ex. That ‘you’ve’ been whoring around, connecting with old friends. I told him I recovered thanks to Dr. Pomme. His only concern was ‘Paul’ wanting his $5 million for doing nothing for me?”

Parker laughs. “Ha, It’d be funny for him to see me like this and I get to play you. Maybe shake you down for $10m in front of him.”

“Hmmm, that would be fun. He was saying he’s alone this weekend. Susan is taking Hanna to see grandma in Philly, so he mentioned about watching the game tonight at his place. I could bring my brother, I’m the only one he invited.” 

“That would be funny but we can never let him know he’s been played for weeks. He’d get pissed.”

I hit the talk button and order Siri. “Call Shaun.”

“Hey Bro.” He greets me, while ‘Paul’ watches. 

“Hey so you still good for game tonight?”

“For sure, pick up some Stromboli will ya?  I have the drinks cover.”

“No problem, I just picked Paul up at JFK, I’ll bring him unless there’s other people coming?”

“No, just us three. I didn’t feel like a major get together. Joel and others are heading to Brewser’s downtown.”

“We’ll see you about 8 then.” I hang up the phone and ‘Paul’ laughs at me. “Shaun is brilliant in the office, but not too bright with people.”

“That’s why I handle the clients and employees, while he handles the finances.”

WRESTLING MATCH 

We get home about 5pm and Paul jumps in his bathtub and soaks. He doesn’t bother to shave his beard and asks for my help in becoming me. I dress him in old Levis, sweater and sneakers. I don’t let him wear any of his dressy coats, instead, forcing him into an old North Face ski jacket and skull cap. Meanwhile I go full Parker staying with my Saturday office outfit—brown plaid  sport coat, tan dress pants and a blue dress shirt.

‘Paul’ comes down looking nothing like himself. “Paul, you look refreshed after a long day.”

“Look at you, the spitting image of me. I know I’ve worn that outfit before.” He questions.

“Yeah, I found it on your Instagram and duplicated it. So can your respond to ‘Paul’?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing at the Refuge for the last 6 weeks? So yes, I’ll make sure to keep in character too.” He runs his hand through his  product free hair. “I’ve kinda gotten use to not having ‘goo’ in my hair but looks like you’ve adapted.”

I reach over and mess up his hair. “So how was the ex?”

“We fucked like bunnies for weeks. It was awesome. I needed it after prison. I think I’m moving out there with him.” He laughs. “Shaun is squeamish about me talking about gay sex, it’s don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“Wow, you had a great time.”

“Just give me the $5m you owe me and I’m gone. Can I take the X5 to help me move?” He keeps in Paul mode.

“You didn’t do a thing for the $5 million, I spent a couple hundred grand bailing you out. You should be repaying me that. Rent a Uhaul.” I stay as Parker. “Wow, that was me completely. What did you have to do to spring me from jail?”

“Easy, I hired Gavin Fields, the best attorney in all of New York, paid him close to $200,000, and shopped around for a doctor about my mental issue.”  He gives me enough information to search for emails, payments to figure out the details. 

Parker actually sounds normal, no nervousness or drowsiness. I’m watching his impersonation of me and realize I have no desire to be that person again. We talk for an hour, then head to Shaun’s place. I added the address to the GPS earlier but Parker guided me there. I walk in first without knocking and call out ‘Hey Bro!’—as Parker suggested but didn’t need to. Parker is carrying the stromboli and asks where Shaun wants the food. Before we walked in, Parker filled me in on where the kitchen and bathroom are, so I’d know it like he does.

Shaun grabs some plates and starts serving the food. I help myself to the wine he has on the counter, while Parker grabs a beer from the fridge, asking first. We have each other’s identity down pat. We carry everything into the family room, in the back of the house. 

Shaun looks at ‘Paul’ and shakes his head in disbelief. “I definitely can’t mix up you two any more.”

‘Paul’ jumps right in. “When you’re busy fucking raw like bunnies, there’s no time to shave or get a haircut.”

I put my hand on my head and do a shameful nod. Shaun cringes. “Ewww too much information Paul, please, I’m not homophobic but I don’t need to know that.  Just say ‘I had a great time with my friends.’

“Paul, Shaun is kind of a prude. I don’t think he kissed his wife at the wedding.” I jump in and poke fun.

“Ugh, you breeders.” Paul laughs at Shaun.

“Well it sounds like you had a good time. You going to move there or just mooch off your brother?” Shaun bluntly asks.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Take my $5 million, move out there or Hawaii and party.”

“$5 million for what?” Shaun gets cocky.

“For all my work, only to have it wasted.”

“Well, looking at you now, it doesn’t look like you’ve done much work on it.” Shaun digs deeper.

“I don’t have to prove myself to you. This is between me and Parker.” Now ‘Paul’ is getting pissed by his attitude.

I jump in. “Hey guys, calm down. It’s all good. Look at me, I’m fine!! Thank god for Dr. Pomme and that I didn’t need Paul. I did put him through a lot of shit. Shaun, you don’t know how I grilled Paul while I was strung out on Zoloft.”

“I could have fooled you easily Shaun.” ‘Paul’ gets cocky. 

“I doubt it.” Shaun mumbles. “The game is coming on, grab a drink.”

I grab my wine glass, head back to the kitchen and refill my glass. They’re not paying attention to me, so I head back to where the bathroom should be. I shut the door, relieve myself and relax. That was an intense exchange but Parker really played me perfectly. When I get back to the family room, they’re both intensely watching the game. We’re there for hours having a great time. I can’t believe how tense things are all night long. At the end of the night, Parker keeps up the charade, asking where the bathroom is. 

When he’s gone, Shaun whispers to me. “Bro, your brother is an ass. Don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of paying him a dime.”

“No bro, I’m just humoring him. I’ll get him out of the house.”

“Good, let me know if you need hel—“ Just then ‘Paul’ returns to the kitchen.

We thank Shaun and head home. Once in the car, Parker turns to me. “Wow, he didn’t like me at all Parker.”

I laugh out loud. “No, you were obnoxious and rude to my best friend.”

“It was funny fucking with him and seeing you play me flawlessly.”

“He’s just being protective of me.” I smile at him. “Hey, now that you’re back, I’m going to Detroit for a week. Remember Jim Yates?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“He invited me to visit for a week, hang out. We’re probably going to fuck like bunnies.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Oh my god, I totally forget. You have a boyfriend.”

“What?”

“He name is Chris Horvath, you’ll love him. I met him at pronto.” I show him pics of him.

“Fuck, he’s hot, thanks Parker. If I get laid that’s worth $5m.” He smiles at me.

“You have dinner with him Tuesday at Darcy’s, then back to his place. He’s a bottom.”

I drive us home and fill him in on his new boyfriend. He’s more interested in Chris than what he missed at work. 

DETAILS

The next morning I have Parker drop me off at JFK to catch my fictional flight to Detroit. Once he’s gone, I catch an Uber to Dr. Harris’ facility. He immediately gets me in for surgery. Parker is planning on getting a haircut, then head into the office. He says he’ll probably call me with a dozen questions. He didn’t think to take pics of my hair. He’ll probably get his regular haircut that Shaun is sure to notice, since he noticed my short sides last week. I may not be readily available to help him with his job questions. 

I’m knocked out and wake up a hours later, groggy with a sore mouth and my hands bandaged like a mummy’s. My hands and mouth are numb. My first worry is how I’m going to use the bathroom. Dr. Harris comes in with a nurse carrying my dinner.

“Paul, it was a very simple and successful procedure. You and your brother have similar fingerprints which made my job a little easier and will help you heal faster. The tooth took a little longer than we thought but you’re good now.”

“That’s great doctor. Thank you.”

“We’ll check back tomorrow morning but for now, eat and get some sleep.”

I’m given some Ambien and pass out for 10 hours. The nurse wakes me up with breakfast and helps me get cleaned up. A few hours later Dr. Harris comes in and unwraps my hand. He’s thrilled with the results and says I can probably go home tomorrow. My fingers are dipped into a flesh color gel then wrapped individually, a little less tightly. Parker calls my burner phone but I let it go to voicemail. I open up my MacBook and start checking my feeds.  

Yesterday’s video show him arriving to his office with a haircut and shave. His hair doesn’t match mine on the sides and Shaun will notice that detail. I switch to the live feed and watch him get into the office. He follows his routine, Jenny brings him coffee but he hardly talks to her. Parker has this intense look on his face as he starts on email.

Shaun walks in a few minutes later, shuts the door and takes his usual chair. “Hey Bro, was I too rough on Paul?”

“Oh no, he’s fine. Hell, he took off to Detroit to visit an old trick. I think we’re better as brothers than roomies. He’s trying to figure out what to do with his life.”

I catch an odd glimpse on Shaun’s face. “Did you get a haircut?”

“Oh no, just styled it differently.” He dismisses the question. 

“Don’t forget we have lunch with Reynolds today at Ghezzi’s.”

“We do?” Parker looks at his watch, which isn’t his usual Omega but a more casual Tag for some unknown reason. “Grab me when you’re ready, you’re driving.”

From my hospital bed I keep an eye on his day, watching his office and following his emails and phone calls. He’s getting up to speed slowly, making mistakes. Where I had weeks to study his work life and was accepted as him, He’s been gone six weeks and didn’t feel the need to be debriefed by me. Parker has always been arrogant like that.

On Tuesday, Dr. Harris comes in and unwraps my hands. There’s pink patches only on the tips. They’re a little sensitive but I don’t have any trouble using them. He puts them on a scanner and they’re a 99.8% match for Parker’s. I’m discharged and check into a hotel not far from Parker’s home. 

I spend another afternoon watching the feeds and keeping up with Parker. The moment I’ve been waiting for happens. Shaun walks into Parker’s office after lunch and shuts the door. He takes a seat and gets a serious look on his face.

“I think I have a small problem ‘Stefan’.” He says, looking at Parker, waiting for a response. 

“What is it Shaun?”

He tries again. “Stefan?”

Parker looks at him oddly. “Spit it out.”

“Ahh never mind, I’ll handle it.” He stands up, shakes his head and leaves. 

I pick up the phone and call Parker to check in.

He greets me oddly. “Hey man, how’s Detroit?”

“Great, I’m having a great time, although Detroit is kinda trashy. How does it feel being back to work?”

“Ah challenging. Step away for a few weeks and there’s a ton of changes. From what I see though, you did a great job covering for me.”

“Ready for Chris tonight?”

“Yeah, we talked last night for an hour. Between your text messages and what you told me, I’m ready for a great night.”

“His penthouse is sweet. Are you going to spend the night? I did, then got into office early and borrowed one of the outfits in your closet.”

“Yeah, I need to spend more time here anyway, so work late, then dinner, then sex.” He’s excited about getting laid for the first time in weeks. I give him details about Chris’ home so he knows the basics.

“Hey, I need to get this call.” I pretend to get another call. 

AUTHENTICATION

This will work out great for tonight. I take an Uber to Parker’s place and make myself at home. ‘It’s good to be home.’ I think to myself as I walk in the door. From my burner phone I call Shaun. He answers unsure of who’s calling.

“Bro, how’s your new CEO?”

“Parker?” He questions.

“Surprise!” I laugh. 

“I knew it, your scumbag brother is in your office. I can see him and he’s not on a phone.”

“How is he doing? He called me asking about you calling him Stefan so I assumed the gig was up.”

“Honestly, he seems okay at filling in for you, work wise.”

“Yeah, he’s calling me ever 5 minutes for advice.”

“What’s going on? Why is he in your office and not you?”

“Long story but this started Saturday night. Please don’t tell him you know, let him play me. There’s no major events on my calendar for him to fuck up.”

“Fine, I’ll do that for you but I’d love to rub it in his face that he didn’t get away with it.”

“Calm down, just a harmless prank and I needed some time off for me.”

“You’re home?”

“Yeah, thinking of happy hour though at Brewser’s” 

“Tell you what, I’ll meet you there.” He’s happy to be talking to his best friend. 

I run up to his bedroom and get ready for happy hour. Parker is in my favorite suit, but this Parker will be more casual. In the shower I check out my fingers. They’re still a little tender as I use them to work pomade into my hair but the redness is mostly gone. 

For a dressy casual outfit, I put together an outfit that screams Parker. It’s a gray glen plaid Tom Ford Bespoke that looked good on him in some Instagram posts. I add a vest and pocket square as is ‘my’ style now. On his dresser is his Omega watch he normally wears. From his jewelry chest, I add some wristbands and snag a pair of sunglasses. I stare in the mirror and smile, knowing tonight I’ll confirm my identity to Shaun. 

I jump in my 911 Targa, get to Brewser’s early and text Shaun that I’m in a corner booth. I’m the epitome of Parker in a stunning outfit, sipping cabernet sauvignon, eating his appetizer and fixated on my phone. He joins me 30 minutes later, plopping his ass across from me. 

“I knew it! I knew right away Monday morning he wasn’t you when I looked at him. His hair was different than your’s. He denied getting a haircut, not knowing you just had a haircut last week. The funny thing was that ‘your’ hair grew back from Saturday, especially on the sides ‘Stefan’.” He stresses the Stefan on purpose.

“Really? You can’t tell the difference? Wasn’t he still in my office when you left?”

“Yes someone was there, and he couldn’t have changed and beat me here but just humor me.”

I brush my hand through my hair. “Got that?”  Then I stand up, pull my pant leg up and twist my leg towards him. “Satisfied?”

“You wouldn’t believe the thoughts I had, wondering if something nefarious happened to you. That you were locked up in a prison like ‘Man in the Iron Mask’.” 

“Oh come on, it was just a little prank.” I laugh, sit back down, fix my cuff and sip my wine. “Ha, After his attitude towards you Saturday, he’s lucky you don’t have him locked up, with my help.”

“I got home Sunday night and he had gotten a cheap hair cut and cleaned himself up. He started in on how he could fool you easily. In leu of the $5m agreement, I made him a $2.5m bet he couldn’t, and was sworn to secrecy. It ends tomorrow. I’m… we’re going to let him win. Got it?”

“Why?”

“Because it saves me $2.5m. He wasn’t happy about me reneging on the $5m and siding with you. I told him I had my doubts he could be me, so to prove you and me wrong, he challenged me.”

“You’re always a pushover. The more time I spent with him, the more I could see the differences.”

“Like what?” I’m curious how he can tell.

“Well, the hair was the first giveaway, the scar but that’s hard to see. Oh your teeth are always whiter. He probably didn’t have good dental care in prison.” He laughs at his put down. “What confirmed it for me was today with ‘Stefan’ and he was clueless, oh and I mentioned about tapping Mel and he gave me another clueless look.”

Internally, I’m laughing at him. “Just put up with him for another day. Pretend he’s me. I might as well be there, since he’s calling me constantly, asking what to do. When he called, asking why you were using my middle name, I figured you caught on to our game. That’s why I called.”

“Yeah, he also didn’t know what you did for Peterson-Engles, which still stuns me with its simplicity. A lot of little things didn’t add up.”

“And you were worried about him trying something.” I laugh. “One, he wouldn’t do it because he’d have to work, put ‘goo’ in his hair and wear a tie. Two, you figured it out in a day. It’s not that easy to take over someone else’s life, I would imagine.”

“And he’s a bit rough around the edges. You like wine, he drinks beer. You carry yourself very professionally, you’re more uptight. I noticed that after you gave up the Zoloft.”

“You think anyone else noticed?”

“I doubt it. I know you better than anyone, plus I knew about Paul.”

“Great, then I’m taking a vacation day tomorrow as planned. Keep an eye on him but please don’t blow his cover, it’s just one more day. I’m fine with paying him. Turns out he only has $1 million stashed from his Ponzi scheme. He actually logged into his Cayman bank account and showed me. He’s converting it to Crypto.”

“So how long is he going to live with you?”

“He’s moving to Seattle on Friday, moving in with his ex, starting over. That’s his plan.”

“Great, New York doesn’t need two of you running around he jokes.”

“Just play along one more day, promise me.”

“Bro, I’ll do it, promise.”

We’re there for over an hour talking, drinking and eating junk food. When Susan calls, he leaves with his tail between his leg. I stay to finish my drink. I’m the personification of Parker Thomas. My best friend has no doubt I’m Parker. A check of my clone iPhone shows my imposter leaving my office at 6, and texting my boyfriend for drinks and dinner at Bailey’s Pub in SoHo. I drive my 911 Targa home to prep for tomorrow.

IDENTITY SWAP

I’m up early per Parker’s routine, hit up the gym then a coffee shop for breakfast. I head back to Dr. Harris’ office to have my fingerprints checked and make plans for later. He’s thrilled with the results then I ask him for some additional help with drugs to keep someone knocked out. I leave with a few options, my favorite is a liquid GHB to add to his wine. 

Back at my future home, I use the GHB and taint his bottle of wine he’ll finish off later today. He’s a creature of habit and almost every night he walks in the door, grabs his mail to open while having wine. I’m counting on him being exhausted from last night and in need of a drink when he walks in the door. 

I start catching up with his videos. He gets into the office at 7am, hours early. It’s a walk of shame as he enters his closet and changes into a different suit. He left the office for over an hour.  Based on a spending notification on iPhone, he went for breakfast down the street. 

After lunch, Parker calls my burner phone.

“Hey Bro, how is your boyfriend?” I laugh at my joke knowing I’m getting him back in a few hours.

“You can pick them. I may keep him. I’m ready to go to bed right now. I’m exhausted, and barely slept.”

“He’s all your’s.” He won’t touch him again, I’m the Parker who charmed him at Pronto and fucked him first.

“We took turns fucking each other, I fucked him twice and vice versa.” 

“Are you back in the swing of things at work?”

“Not today, after last night, my ass is dragging. Plus, you miss a month of work and it feels more like a year. By next week, I think I’ll be back to normal. I was thinking of something else….” 

“What’s that?”

“Next time I go to take a real vacation, I may use you to cover for me. It would be incredible to take weeks off without falling behind.”

“That could be possible if I’m around at the time.”

“You’re getting back Sunday?”

“I may try for Friday, Detroit is a depressing place.”

“Okay, I see you whenever you get back. I’m taking my boyfriend out for dinner then he wants to go dancing at Backstreet on Saturday.”

“You dancing?” I love the thought of doing that.

“Only because you suggested it to him. Okay gotta get to my staff meeting.”

I’m watching him leave his office and a minute later enter the executive conference room. He’s the last one in but no one complains. He covers the action items from last week while I take note for next week’s. It’s full of reports from different departments. Unlike my staff meeting, Parker defers to Shaun on a lot of the issues. He was too busy talking to me to read through last week’s minutes. This can only  reinforce to Shaun that he’s sitting next to an imposter.

The minute the meeting is over, Parker returns to his office and starts packing to leave. He packs files and his portfolio into his briefcase. He grabs his suit from the closet then head out the door. I see him saying something to Jenny. On the camera in Shaun’s office, I watch him paying attention to the exchange.

It’ll take Parker about an hour to get home. I’ve tainted every open bottle of wine in his cooler. Half a glass of wine should be enough to knock him out. I go upstairs to a spare bedroom, waiting for him to pull in. Right on time, I see him pulling up. The bedroom door is cracked so I can hear him.  The door from the garage opens, there’s footsteps across the marble kitchen floor then steps to front door for the mail. The footsteps come back and I hear the door to the wine cooler open. When I hear a bottle being set on the granite countertop, I know he’ll be taking his nap soon. I hear a few envelopes being ripped open, then silence. 

After waiting 30 minutes, I quietly walk down the stairs and see ‘Paul’ passed out at his kitchen island. I walk up to him, lift up his hand and get no reaction. I lift him off the stool and drag him over to the sofa. After all that, he didn’t wake up or say anything. I take a needle that Dr. Harris provide and inject him with another drug that should keep him out for 24 hours. 

I call Dr. Harris and arrange to have Paul picked up in an hour. It gives me time to strip him, dress him and take over. I strip him, then dress him in sweatpants and a t-shirt. I run upstairs and put on a pair of my ‘dressy’ jeans and casual knit shirt. Back downstairs I remove his class ring and permanently add it to my finger. I take off the Tag watch, wristbands and shove them in my pocket.

I’m now Parker Thomas to the world. I pick up my phone and call my best friend.

He answers bluntly. “Give me good news Stefan.”

I put him on video and run my hand through hair. “Are we done with this? He just left but he seemed upset. Did something happen at work? Did you confront him?”

“No, but he did seem out of it, most of the day and looked like shit.”

“Good, he deserves it. The slut went to the Manhole and probably closed the place. Who know how many guys he gave my phone number to.”

“Just tell me you’ll be you tomorrow.”

“Yes, and you’ll be able to tell, right?”

“I wanna see the scar.”

“Who’s the CEO and who’s the President.” I’ve heard Parker remind Shaun a few times. Now I own it.

IN CHARGE

A plain white van shows up, two men in emergency medic outfits help him into the van and he’s out of my life. I’m on a high as I watch the van pull out of my driveway then turn around and collapse against the door. I look around ‘my’ house, it’s all mine, I’m Parker Stefan Thomas. This is fucking incredible but I no longer curse like a sailor, I’m now Parker and I rarely curse. I head to the kitchen, empty the open wine bottle down the sink and rinse out the glass with scolding hot water. I grab a new bottle and use the new glass to continue Parker’s evening. I finish going thru my mail but its mostly junk. 

I gather up my suit from today, yesterday’s suit and other clothes from the living room and head upstairs. I toss everything on my bed then head to my spare bedroom for my clone iPhone and burner phone. I remove the SIM cards, crush the burner under my loafer, the iPhone will be a spare.  All I need is my iPhone.

‘My’ ex Colin calls, I think I’m still in love with him, would love to fuck him for old times sake. 

“Hey, Colin.” I greet him.   

“Parker, what you up to?”

“Just home, relaxing with a glass of wine.” The perfect Parker response.

“We’re heading to Pronto for dinner, about 7:30 if you want to join us?” 

“Sure, I haven’t eaten yet. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

It’s a little after 6pm, giving me an hour to clean up this mess. I toss the suits in the hamper for Annie to take care of, put the shoes and ties back in my closet. From my pockets, I take out the wristbands and watch and return them to my jewelry chest. 

I jump in the shower and use all my standard product to provide my usual scent. I’m standing naked in my closet taking in my wardrobe. Instead of checking my Instagram for what to wear, I’ll select my own. This is my closet, full of my personal style. I grab a pair of my Calvin Klein boxer briefs and slip them on.  I adjust my penis and love knowing I’m not sharing my clothes with anyone ever again. 

I’ve always like black and grays colors because of my jet black hair and darker complexion. My closet reflects this and my love of classic style clothes. My new favorite color is blue with gray a close second. I’m like a kid in a candy store—inspecting my suits, pulling coats off the hanger and trying them on. There’s too many of them to pick from, I love them all. 

I turn to my sport coats and roughly guess I have another 30-40 to pick from. Again, I’m trying on ones the catch my eye then checking myself out in front of the floor to ceiling mirror at the end of the closet. Across from the sport coats are double rows of dress, casual and knit shirts. A few have the sleeves rolled up, letting me know I’ve worn them briefly and hung them up. One catches my eye, a black linen shirt.  I pull it off the hanger, note the Hugo Boss label and pull it on. It’s fitted to hug my body. I button it up and love how it fits and feels. I’ve found ‘the’ shirt for a night out with friends. ‘Now I just need pants and a coat.’ I chuckle to myself. 

Parker, I mean ‘I’m’ not a fan of jeans, sometimes wear them with a sport coat and vest but more often a nice suit with or without a tie. My closet is full of every color and style of suits imaginable, though there is a strong blue and charcoal preference. For a night with friends, a lighter gray suit grabs my attention. I feel the material and check the label—Nice, worsted wool, Tom Ford. I step into the pants noticing that the fit is perfect. I then unroll my sleeves and pull on the suit coat. ‘Yeah, this is perfect for dinner at Pronto. It’s not too showy but very classic.’ I think to myself. For shoes I go with my black suede loafers that I  favor. 

I add my class ring, usual Omega watch and a few wristbands for a casual flair. With my wallet, keys and iPhone tucked in my suit, I head to the mirror and check myself. Parker Thomas is ready for a night out with his friends. I button my suit coat, adjust my sleeves and runs my hand through my hair.  My identity is perfect. 

“Colin, Jeff, how are you guys?” I smile at my refection, knowing I look and sound just like Parker. I run downstairs, take a sip of my wine, grab a winter coat and jump into my Porsche 911 Targa. I get there late due to too many wardrobe choices. My friends spot me walking in and wave me over. Jeff talks about how well Oklahoma is doing. Colin talks about students and planning a ski trip to Killington for New Years. I fill them in on my boyfriend and how well that’s going. It’s a fun time and need break for me.  We don’t stay long and I’m home by 9:30. The night was a major personal success.  

THE ONLY CEO

I wake up early, excited to get to work and take my rightful position as CEO of Thomas Financial. First a hit up the gym and keep my appointment with my trainer. Back home I know exactly what Parker Thomas will be wearing—his favorite three piece Garrison Bespoke  gray suit, white button down shirt and tight pattern navy tie. It’s a great look on me based on some  Instagram post. 

I beat everyone in, including Jenny. I make my own coffee and greet workers as they come in. I take off my coat and suit coat, and take my throne. Jenny is shocked to see me in so early.

“Parker, you’re in early and look much better than yesterday.”

“Yeah, I just needed a good night’s sleep. I’m feeling great today. How was your evening? Any surprises when you got home from Lucy?” I take the conversation in a personal direction, asking about her puppy. 

“Nope, it’s been a week without any accidents. Crating her seems to be helping.” She looks down at my coffee. “Let me get settled in and I’ll bring your fresh coffee.”

“Take your time, It still hot.”

She leaves and I start catching up on my emails and voice message. I check reports from my staff, then our corporate dashboard. If our projections hold out, it’ll be another record year of bonuses for me. Not that I need it—my house is paid off, just like my toys. My biggest expense is my custom suits and wardrobe. Paying Dr. Harris and others to take care of my loose ends is coming out of my Cayman account, not my new personal net worth.

I didn’t see Shaun arriving at the office and he startles me when he walks in and shuts the door.

“Hey Bro!” He strolls in carrying a cup of coffee and makes himself at home like any other day. “Wow, you look great today, like a totally new man. You even got a haircut, your hair is shorter on the sides than yesterday ‘Stefan’.”

“Please, stop that, I’m not raking my hair any more.” My phone dings with a message from Chris. “Hey, move ahead on the Greenfrog financing.”

“I did that yesterday as soon as you gave me approval Parker.” He smirks at me.

“No, really? ‘I’ did that? Without checking with myself.” I roll my eyes in disbelief. 

“I assumed you did after our drinks the other night.”

“No, I’m scared now—what else did ‘I’ do the last few days?”

“Guess it wasn’t the best idea to prank me.” He snickers.

“Yeah, but he’s leaving today.”

“Thought he was leaving last Friday.”

“No, I changed his plans when he pissed me off. He went to Pronto, made out with some stranger as me and brought the trick home. He thought it was funny. I told him it’d be best if he left today, we exchanged some choice words and he agreed.”

“Did this trick see the both of you?”

“No, Paul woke me up, told me he had company and to wait 30 minutes to leave my bedroom. I heard them talking, heard the trick thanking ‘Parker’ for a great time and to call him. I didn’t even see the guy.”

“So this stranger will be calling?” Shaun sounds worried.

“No, he has Paul’s phone number but he knows where I live. It really pissed me off and why did he use my name?”

“I told you he was trouble, but you didn’t listen. You had to waste your money, bail his sorry ass out and then you didn’t need him.”

“Well, live and learn.” Another Parker adage that now belongs to me. “So we have lunch today with Mosser and company. We’re set with the latest numbers?”

“Yeah, I’ll send them to you in a minute.”

The day flies by without any problems for the new Parker. Just before leaving office, Dr. Harris calls me to let me know everything is taken care of. ‘Paul’ has been moved to a secure location and kept sedated. 

THE NEW PAUL

I pass on happy hour with my team, claiming a date with Chris. I get to Dr. Harris’ facility late in the day and sit down with the doctor before seeing ‘Paul’. 

“How is Paul doing Dr. Harris?”

“He’s alert and demanding to know what happened and where he is. His prints are 99% there, we added the filling to his mouth. We haven’t said a word to him at all. It’s driving him mad.”

“Great, I want to talk to him before the next step.”

“Sure, I just checked on him. We have him handcuffed for everyone’s safety.”

I’m lead to a part of the facility where I’ve never been. It’s in the basement and reminds me of Brookhaven with solid steel doors, cameras and bars. I walk in and ‘Paul’ is laying in bed facing away from the door. 

“Ahem, How you doing Paul?”

He flips around instantly. “What the fuck is going on?”

“It should be obvious. I’m now Parker Stefan Thomas, you’re Paul Steven Thomas.” I walk in further and he stares up and down at me. 

“You think you can be me? Step into my life?” He laughs at me.

“I don’t think it Paul, I know it. I knew it the first night out of Brookhaven when I assumed your identity.”

He looks at me confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You took your pathetic drugs and I put you to bed while Shaun was grabbing dinner. I borrowed your identity, clothes, fixed my hair and had dinner with Shaun as you. He was clueless but so useful. He complained that he couldn’t tell us apart so we came up with test that you failed on Tuesday, proving my identity as Parker to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you didn’t respond correctly to Shaun’s questioning ‘Stefan’ the other day, you proved your identity as Paul to him. After six weeks as you, I’m totally in place as you. The drugs and PTSD were great cover, then ‘my’ recovery and not needing the Refuge left me step easily into your life. When Shaun said to me ‘You’re back to your old self’, I knew I nailed your pompous, attitude. 

“He’ll figure this out.”

“Bro, are you looking at me?”

“So what, you’re wearing my clothes, that doesn’t make you me.”

“You’re right, it’s just one part—you made me you. Your coaching helped a lot but I also added some cameras to Thomas Financial and cloned your iPhone. When you went to California, using my identity to hide your illness, that prepped me for becoming CEO of Financial.”

“What about all this?” He gestures to the room?

“Oh, needed to change some details.”

“Details?”

“I have your fingerprints, you have mine, along with a fixed cavity. Physically, you’re now me.”

He looks at his fingers. “That’s why they’re tender and red?”

“It’s state of the art technology. Oh, and 3D printing removed my cavity and rebuilt my tooth like new. Technology is amazing.”

“Acting like me will be another story.” He challenges me.

“Give me a break, I’ve known you all your life. I also put cameras in your office, Shaun’s and in the conference rooms. I know how you conduct meetings, your mannerisms, attitudes and all the little personal issues like Jenny’s puppy potty training. I found the videos from the last 12 board meetings. They’re quite fascinating and educational. No one notice their new CEO at the last board meeting.”

“And you think I’m just going to go along with this, let you have my life?”

“Paul—“

“Stop that, you’re Paul.” ‘Paul’ yells interrupts me hysterically.

“You’re delusional still. The Refuge didn’t really help, did it? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.  Doctor Gehris has found a facility that’ll take great care of you. They’re not equipped to help you here. Don’t worry about the cost, I’ll pay for everything.”

“Doctor Gehris? Who the fuck is he.

“Oh Paul.” I sadly moan. “He’s your psychologist you’ve been seeing since I got you out of jail. That’s why I spent $225,000 to spring you early. Don’t worry, we have your medical records highlighting your delusion of being me, assuming my trauma of the car jacking. We also have a great drug that’ll help you forget those painful memories and delusions.”

“Paul, you can’t do this. You won’t get away with it.”

“It’s been 6 weeks of being Parker Thomas and no one has picked up on it, not even ‘my’ best friend Shaun. You’re never getting your life back—I’m Parker, you’re Paul. Accept it. Sorry I can’t stay but I’m hungry, going to grab a bite. Not sure when I’ll see you again but have a great life, I’m sure I will.”

Days later, Paul is admitted into a mental facility. A fake Facebook page is set up for him, showing him in Seattle, living his life and happy. I admit to Shaun that I paid him some money to get rid of him, that I won’t be reaching out to him in a while. Shaun warns me he’ll be back for more money eventually. Thomas Financial is thriving under the same management its had for years—Parker Thomas, CEO.

[reidscanehand]

heavy words for a glass heart

whoopsie daisy wrote a lil fic. I'm not sure why this title gave me this vibe, but it did, so I hope you like it! xx

Heavy Words for a Glass Heart

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

Category: Angsty Fluff

TW: mental health concerns, COVID-19 pandemic talk

Spencer feels a little weird for being concerned about how you look. Emily's made it clear that, due to the stay-at-home orders and the consultation-only nature of the cases they've been taking, there's no formality required for these daily Zoom briefings. Spencer stopped wearing ties months ago, Rossi typically cooks while on the calls, Matt and JJ can rarely stay on for whole meetings, having to mute themselves and cut their video in order to homeschool their kids while on calls, Luke has hardly made it a secret that he's isolating with Penelope, and even Tara has stopped doing her hair for the daily calls, the whole group only 'suiting up' if required for a video consultation with an actual head detective. So, no, there's no formality required. And the pandemic is hardly bringing out the best in people, but you look so exhausted that Spencer finds himself worrying about you for the other 10-16 hours he doesn't see you over Zoom.

He's written, deleted, and rewritten an attempt at a casually-toned text enquiring about your health and mental well-being at least ten times in the past week, but he can't bring himself to send it. It's awkward. It's awkward for many reasons, but the main one is that the day before the stay-at-home order was declared, you'd agreed to go on a date with him. With that canceled, and, seemingly, everything else in the universe thrown into chaos and question due to the pandemic, Spencer's not sure where the two of you stand. And beyond wanting to say: Hey, I'm worried about you, are you okay? and not sound absolutely idiotic, he's also written quite a few texts to the tune of: Hey, by the way, that date we were supposed to go on? I know that's canceled because of the pandemic, but please know that the second I'm able to I want to take you out on a proper date and maybe also, I don't know, spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you. Oh, by the way, I'm completely and utterly in love with you. And since he's read every single book in his apartment at least ten times over at this point, these rough drafted texts and the occasional consult are the only things occupying his mind.

"Reid?" Emily asks, snapping Spencer out of his reverie. He can feel his cheeks heating up as he realizes he was fully just staring at the tiny square of you on his screen and not listening to a single fucking thing about this (actually incredibly straightforward robbery) case they'd been called to consult for.

"Yes?" he replies, thankful for the fact that everyone's Zoom screens are organized differently, meaning no one - including you - would realize that he's just been staring at you this entire time.

"Thoughts?" Emily presses. Bless her, Spencer thinks to himself. She's been trying to keep the team together, keep them bright and perky for these daily meetings, even organizing a Zoom game night that, though it had gone rather horribly awry, was a nice gesture.

"I think the wife did it," he says, glancing at the notes he'd read through a couple of times already. "And she's playing along."

"Y/L/N? What do you think?" Emily asks, the tinge of worry passing over her face as she glances at the part of her screen where Spencer assumes you fall on her grid over Zoom giving him a touch of comfort; Emily's worried about you, too.

"I agree with Spence," you concur, your voice hardly masking how utterly exhausted you sound. "I think she's a gold digger if the dynamics are anything to go by. I'm sure she thought stealing something from Mr. Lauden would give him a heart attack or something. I'd even go so far as to say that she staged the whole thing."

"That sounds good to me," JJ agrees, unmuting herself for two seconds before turning back to help Henry with some schoolwork. The other team members agree with your assessment, Spencer even pipes back in to back you up.

"Sounds good," Emily finishes. "I'll deliver our findings to Chief Hazlett. That should be it for today; I'll see you all tomorrow morning."

Everyone begins clicking off, random shouts of goodbyes are exchanged. For a split second, it's just you and Spencer on the call and as you look to the bottom corner of your square to leave, Spencer nearly shouts at his laptop, "Y/N!"

You look up, eyes wide, mouth dropping open slightly. A soft, very faint smile grows on your lips as you look at him.

"Yes, Spence?"

"Um," he buffers for a moment, unsure of his plan here. "You...uh, you did good work today." You did good work today? What are you, a boy scout leader? Spencer's mind chastises itself and he finally brings himself to look at you again. You're staring at him, a tiny furrow forming in between your brows.

"Thank you," you finally answer. "You, too." You look unsure of what to do and Spencer feels bad for making you uncomfortable, but he can't help but notice the ever-so-slight changes in your appearance. You're always beautiful, and that had not changed a bit, but you just look so...unwell. While you haven't been doing your hair for meetings, your hair looks greasier, knotted, and longer - though his was getting pretty long, too. And your eyes look sunken in and almost bloodshot, the bags under them concerningly large. And your face just looks so sad that Spencer finally gets his thoughts together.

"Y/N," he begins, clearing his throat a little. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but...um...are you...are you alright?" Your eyes widen and you sit back from your screen. You open your mouth to speak, eyes dropping from the screen, but Spencer interrupts you, "You look fine, but I just...I'm worried about you." He pauses for a moment before, his eyes dropping to his hands in his lap, he almost uncontrollably adds, "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Spencer," you whisper. He looks up at the screen and sees tears slowly trailing down your face.

"Y/N, what's...are you...are you okay?"

You look at him, eyes piercing through the screen and straight into his soul.

"....No," you rasp. "I'm not okay." And with that, you end the call.

~~~

He settles on three masks. A plain, FBI-issue black one makes up the bottom layer, then a medical one over that, covered by another mask, this one patterned with tiny books (a gift from Penelope, mailed at the beginning of the pandemic) is the top layer. He's also wearing two pairs of gloves; latex covered by a pair of knitted ones (also, randomly, an old Christmas gift from Penelope). Spencer sort of wishes he had a hazmat suit in order to make this journey, but his worries of germs are being overridden by his worries about you. He's driving his own car, so, really, there's hardly a need for this many precautions, but he's not sure what to expect when he arrives at your home. Thankful that you live in a house and not an apartment building where he'd, doubtless, have to face a doorman or, even worse, a neighbor, Spencer arrives at your small house and parks his car. It's only then that it strikes him that this might be overkill. He's worried about you, sure, and, in truth, he loves you. But is this selfish? You're upset, that much is clear, but is he...is he overdoing it?

No, he decides, getting out of his car and marching up to the door. He has to make sure you're okay. He knocks on your door with more force than he intends and then stands back, not quite capable of a six-foot distance between the door and the end of your front step.

"Spencer?" you question when you open your door. "What are you-"

"I had to make sure you were alright," he interrupts. "I couldn't just...let our conversation from this morning...I couldn't let it end on that."

"Oh, Spencer," you coo. "You didn't...I'm sorry if I worried you; I'm just being silly." Your voice is like a thin frosting: not quite covering the actual issues beneath.

"Y/N," Spencer begins carefully. "May I...may I come inside?" You look unsure for a moment. "I was tested only a few days ago and I don't have the virus. Plus, you're the first person I've come into contact with since the beginning of all this."

"No, it's not that...it's...oh, whatever," you mumble, your gaze sweeping what he can't see behind the door. "Just...um...just don't judge."

Spencer hurries inside and, after washing his hands in the small guest bathroom just inside your door, he enters your living room, now fully cognizant of why you ordered him not to judge you. The living area is a mess. It would be obvious, even if he wasn't a profiler, that you've been sleeping, eating, and working from this room. Though, looking around, he's not sure how much sleep you're actually getting. There's a blanket, sure, and a bed pillow leaned against one arm of the sofa, but they're bundled up, folded away long ago. There's not a lot of...solid food present. Mostly coffee mugs. Tons of coffee mugs. There's your work laptop, surrounded by notebooks upon notebooks of case notes, printed case files scattered around as well. There's a few books scattered about and a box or two of tissues. There are a few masks in a small bowl that's otherwise filled with mail and next to that is an almost empty bottle of hand sanitizer. Spencer looks back at you, standing in the entryway to the living room. You're not looking at him or at the space he's taking in, you're staring sheepishly at your shoes.

"Yeah," you almost whisper. "I just...um...I'm sorry. It's gotten kind of-"

With very little awareness of his own limbs, Spencer throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug. Immediately, you begin to cry. Sobbing quietly into his chest. The two of you stay in this embrace for quite a while, eventually sitting on the floor of your living room. You wrap your arms around him at some point, practically clinging to him for dear life. He shushes you sweetly, and rubs small circles into your back, pressing kisses into your hair.

"Y/N," he ventures when your tears get a little quieter. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because," you begin, sitting up a little. You wipe under your eyes and finally meet Spencer's gaze. But Spencer doesn't let go of you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. "Because I felt really stupid. I'm fine. I'm safe and people are dying. People are literally dying...and I'm upset because...because I can't see my friends? And because I can't...I can't do anything to help. Except stay home and feel...redundant and idiotic...because I'm so upset and have no right to be."

"Hey," Spencer says, his hands moving to cup your face. "You are not stupid. You are not redundant. You have every right to feel scared or worried. We are living in an unprecedented, terrifying time and no one knows what's happening. Do not reproach your reaction to this insane time we're living in."

"But...but I'm supposed to help people," you blubber, fresh tears falling. "That's my whole job and I can't...I can't do anything." You look up at him again as he wipes the new tears out from under your eyes. "I miss you, Spencer. I miss you a lot."

"I miss you, too, Y/N. A lot," he states. He looks at you, searching your eyes for a moment. He leans down, giving your nose a gentle kiss. "I have an idea. And you can absolutely say no to this, but...what if I isolate with you? Neither of us should be alone during this time. No one else on the team is alone except the two of us. I can go get some clothes and...and move in? If that's too much I completely-"

You interrupt him, pressing your lips to his for the briefest and yet loveliest of moments. "That," you whisper, "would be wonderful, Spencer."

He can't even help the smile that plays its way onto his lips. "I'm in love with you, you know that, right?"

"That's the best thing I've heard since March," you breathe into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. "I love you, too, Spencer."

~~~

It should alarm him that it takes the team until November to notice that he's moved in with you. To be fair to them, the two of you work from separate laptops in separate parts of your house during consultations. But, even when the team goes back to work in person, the two of you continue to live together, a fact unnoticed by the team. It's only when Spencer accidentally wears the same shirt two days in a row that Tara suspects something is going on between the two of you. And then Luke notices that you're riding into work together. And Rossi accidentally sees a text you send to Spencer about picking up some arugula and bringing it home and that's when it clicks for everyone. No one's shocked, really, nor are they shocked when, two days after the team receives their second vaccinations, they receive a wedding invitation for December of 2021.

~~~

Link to My Main Masterlist.

[babymilkawa]

valentine’s day headcanons with:

levi ackerman, armin arlert, eren jaeger

gn!reader :)

levi ackerman

a w k w a r d

he has 0 knowledge on this and only acts on instincts

he’ll know nothing about the usual valentine gifts (which is actually good) and get you something he knows you’ll like

I mean he knows he has to get u sthing mans not that dense 🙄

when u wake up and whisper happy valentine’s day

he freaks for a sec then remembers that ur gift is under the bed

he kisses you and oof soft morning cuddles until the “kids start running everywhere”

he gives you ur gift and is a little scared u won’t like it

but u do U BETTER COS ITS LEVI and he can breathe again

as for affection, he doesn’t change on this day

he still tries to give you his attention and shows you how much he appreciates you

the other corps are gushing about the two of you like “cmon...we know you wanna get a room..shfjsdh”

y'all just roll ur eyes and continue training

when ur not with him though, hange goes up to him and is like *nudge nudge* “so did you prepare anything for tonight?”

he goes huh??

“what is there to prepare”

hange straight up face palms

“you have to decorate the bed with rose petals! light up candles! make her dinner!”

he’s stressed now

he thought it was over?? he thought he would just cuddle you like he does every night, maybe add some spice??

where the hell was he supposed to get roses huh

nevertheless, he tries his best

he doesn’t get roses and doesn’t litter them on the bed because that’s,,messy,,,

but he puts them in a nice vase

the room is lighted with only a few candles and you already ate so he didn’t cook dinner

when u come in he goes “I know it’s not much...”

but you hug him and thank him anyways 

then u cuddle and spice it up like planned 😏

armin arlert

OK SO this guy is the sweetest ok

he’s got all the sunshines and rainbows for u (yk what I mean)

he writes u a wholeass poem where he confesses his undying love for u again, bakes u sweets and packs em in a box with the words “will you be my valentine?” on the very bottom

like you’re already his s/o he don’t need to ask jdfhgjfh 😫🤚🏻

I mean was he scared you’d say no to the box? maybe...

the poem was actually very well written and you can tell he took a lot of time on it

the sweets were delicious and Sasha may or may not have stolen a few

I mean u needed to get to the bottom of the box sooo 👀

he’ll sneak kisses to you throughout the day

jean sees every one of them and glances over at mikasa, sweating his balls off HHHAhhahaha

hange will be gushing at young love and Levi will just turn away

erwin tries to get everyone’s attention again

Eren’ll prolly tell you how many crumpled papers there are in his room from the night that Armin finally decided to sit down and write the poem

Eren prolly exaggerated a WHOLE lot saying how Armin was on the verge of crying because he didn’t know what to write

I mean he WAS scratching his hair out because it has to be perfect for you

now armin is j tryna shut that damn Eren up, blushing furiously

eren is threatening to show you the crumpled drafts hahahejh

when the night comes, soft hours are on

you guys sit in his room and honestly just have some wholesome talks

you reflect on your relationship, he tells you how much you mean to him

sigh 😌

eren jaeger

he’ll go to armin instead of mikasa for help

then when armin mentions that mikasa is a girl and that she’ll prolly know better, he’s like Ron in Harry Potter when they’re asking ppl to the ball

like “mikasa, you’re a girl, right?”

*suffocates him with her scarf*

anyways, this green eyed dude will give you your gift with shaking, sweaty hands, stuttering all over the place

you end up just kissing him so he’ll shut up

then he’s got a list of your plans for the day, not being subtle AT ALL

like he prolly wrote all this on the toilet

so he’s pulling out his toilet paper from his pocket like “d-do you wanna g-go o-on a hike f-first or-”

“let's go on a picnic!” you suggest

instantly paniks cos this Wasn’T on tHE List MIkaSAAAAAA

when you guys are packing the food, Sasha offers to help but really just secretly eats it all

you end up checking the bottom of the basket to see if there’s a hole hahAha

Eren takes you to a decent place though, where the wind blows and it’s quiet and peaceful

he wants to hold your hand and just goes for it

like snATCHES it

after he gets over his nerves,,,y’all,,,make out <3

then your laying on his lap, he’s making a flower crown awww

you make one for him too cos y not

he tells you a couple of things about the nature around you

like “oh this plant was everywhere in my hometown, you would never not see it in our soup”

you watch the sunset together with your flower crowns on

when you get back from the hill everyone’s there and clapping lMAO LIKE “ABOUT TIME”

no one bothers to save dinner for y'all cos u already ate anyways

Sasha said that

when he goes back to his room Levi is standing there reading to whoop his ass for the mess but when he sees Eren walking in and smiling he lets him go

Eren doesn’t even SEE LEVI HAHAH he just plops face down on his bed and has this happy sigh

Levi just rolls his eyes and tells u ur loverboy is in there 🥰💕💘

a/n: this made me 🥺

attack on titan masterlist

[is-putin-dead-yet]

wait what happened?

⚠️disclaimer: this is a very vague and possibly inaccurate description, i'm not citing sources and i don't have any authority to even talk about politics. you should actually go read news and listen to experts instead of going along with what a random tumblr blog said. this is not an educational post this is just me summarizing and interpreting stuff that happened in a very biased and subjective way⚠️

idk what he did or what happened to him that is relevant to his health (making this remark bc this blog is about counting down till his death so that's what is the most important for us here)

however if you didn't see the news in the last couple of days and are wondering what's happening there in general, it's quite a lot:

russia announced referendums in the occupied ukrainian regions. the referendums will happen september 23-25 and will follow crimean scenario (fancy way to say that they will be totally illegitimate and worthless)

so basically they'll do these fake referendums, announce that the territories in question are now russian so if ukrainian army continues to liberate these cities (it obviously will) then "it's a direct attack on russia" and putin will be able to sell it to his people as the beginning of war (it's called "special operation" so far)

that is done to explain mobilization (already announced i think) because russians lost a lot of military people and they need more to have at least some chance against ukraine. they do still have a lot of weapons, this is why ukrainians always ask our allies for more weapons: we have way less than we need. so russia ran out of ways to get more people without the mobilization (they really tried everything, they already sent prisoners, immigrants, mercenaries, kadyrov's chechen forces, ukrainian civilians from occupied regions they kidnapped from the streets, etc.) because it'll surely switch the public opinion on the war. everyone loves to shout "go russia" but no one wants to die

speculation time! in the next couple of months we have a chance to witness: russian civil war (people with weapons turning back on the government that sent them to die); revolution or massive protests because ppl wouldn't want to get drafted in the first place; huge wave of russian refugees everywhere (probably happening as we speak); total isolation of russia from the outside world; possibly putin's assassination by someone in his closest circle(🫣🤞); a few and short-term russian military wins (it's the most they'll be able to accomplish)

tl;dr: the fake referendums is putin's excuse to rebrand "special operation" to "war" and explain mobilization inside russian federation to russian public

[flightlessangelwings]

Keep You Safe

Frankie Morales x gn!reader (no y/n)

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: fluff, pining, mild angst, a shitty ex, a break in, brief panic attack (not overly detailed), protective!Frankie, bed sharing, happy ending

Notes: This sat drafted for weeks cause I just kept picking at it and I think I’m finally happy with it so I hope y’all enjoy it! Thanks to my wonderful partner @we-can-be-himbos​ for beta reading for me!

~

The little dive bar was full of noise and life. You stood around a high top with your brother, Santiago, and your shared friends Will, Benny, and Frankie. Technically Santi was your step brother; your parents married when you both were young, but you two grew up together and he never treated you like anything other than a sibling. He was always very protective of you and always looked after you even well into adulthood. The two of you even lived together in a shared little house since he was away a lot for his job.

You all gathered together because it was Santiago’s last night before he left for his deployment. It was always tradition before any of the guys left to have a night out as a send off, and you loved when you and the boys all got together. You were fond of the Miller brothers, but you had a special place in your heart for Frankie Morales. 

Frankie captivated you ever since the day you first met all those years ago. You hid it as best you could, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered on him for just a moment too long or the way your heart flipped in your chest whenever he laughed. And whenever you weren’t looking, Frankie’s eyes trailed down your figure as he shifted in his boots. He always smirked at your effortless charm that drew him in from the get-go.

There was an undeniable attraction between you and Frankie, and the rest of the guys could definitely sense it. Yet, no one said anything. Perhaps no one wanted to be the one to tell Santiago that you were interested in his best friend. Or maybe they wanted you and Frankie to come together on your own without more than a gentle nudge from the rest of the group. 

But what no one knew was that you and Frankie did hook up once. It was a couple of months ago after a night out at the bar, much like this one, and Frankie had offered to take you home. Santi had already left with a random person he had been making eyes at all night and trusted your safety with Frankie. One thing led to another and you ended up naked in his bed after several orgasms. The two of you agreed to never mention that night again, although it was always on your mind.

You had no idea that it was always on Frankie’s mind as well.

Glasses clinked as you and the boys all cheered to Santiago’s health and wished him luck on his mission. He would be gone for several months: the longest he would be away. You all chattered and laughed as you shared memories of good times. Benny let out a loud cackle and rested his hand on your shoulder as you told an embarrassing story about Santiago from your childhood and Frankie couldn’t help the way he frowned slightly. He wasn’t a jealous person, but he wished that he could be so casual in his touches with you as the others were.

“Hey Fish,” Santiago’s voice shook Frankie from his thoughts, “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Frankie nodded as he finished his beer before he followed Santi to a quiet corner of the bar.

You watched the two men walk away with furrowed brows, “What's that about?” you asked as you took a sip of your drink.

“I bet he’s telling Fish to make sure Benny keeps his hands off of you,” Will joked, which made you burst into laughter as Benny gave him an exaggerated pout.

Santi and Frankie looked to be deep in conversation and they both had serious looks on their faces. You didn’t bother to try to eavesdrop, since the bar was too loud and you settled for just watching their interaction from a distance. But you were soon distracted when you felt another pair of eyes on you. A chill ran down your spine as you casually leaned back and tried to find the source.

On the other end of the bar you swore you saw Casey, your ex. His face disappeared into the crowd before you could be sure, but even just the thought made you uneasy. Things did not end well with Casey; he was very overbearing and made you uncomfortable with how possessive he was. Even after you ended your relationship with him, you found that he would pop up sometimes whenever you were out like he was following you. 

You shuffled closer to Will and Benny as you rejoined the conversation and tried to put your ex’s face out of your mind. The boys didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary and you convinced yourself that it was just your imagination as you put a soft smile back on your face.

The other two came back to the table within a few minutes, and you and Santi left the bar shortly after that. His flight was early the next morning and you wanted to get some sleep before you drove him to the airport. Even as you left with your brother, you still felt those ice cold eyes on you, but you didn’t say anything to Santiago.

Your little one story house you shared with your brother was cute and cozy, and was just enough for the two of you. You each had your own bedrooms and separate bathrooms, which was a must when you were house hunting. The car was quiet as he drove the two of you home, and though Santi usually pressed you about what was on your mind, he chose to stay quiet this time. 

“What time do we need to leave, Santi?” you asked though the wall as you got ready for bed.

“Six,” he shouted back.

Fuck, that was so early. But you always liked to be the one to take him to the airport whenever he left for assignments, so you sucked it up for one morning. You could always come right back home and go back to bed anyway. After you said your goodnights, you slipped into bed where you fell asleep quicker than you expected to with how full your head was.

But you didn’t stay asleep.

A loud bang at the front door jolted you awake and you scrambled out of bed to duck down onto the floor like your brother had taught you to. The noise must have woken Santiago up as well because you heard him shout your name as he told you to stay in your room. You heard an argument and you recognized the other voice anywhere: Casey. You gasped as you realized that was actually him at the bar and he must have followed you home.

You cracked your door open just enough to see into the living room where Santiago was locked in a heated argument with your ex. Panic raced through your veins as you fell back onto the floor. You didn’t even register that Santiago came back and was right in front of you. His hands were on your shoulders as he shook you gently to get you out of your head. It wasn’t until the third time he said your name that you came back to the present.

“Hey, hey,” Santi used as calming a voice as he could, “He’s gone.” He was just as frightened as you were, and he was ready to defend and protect you. Santi watched you in your relationship with him and he didn’t like the way the guy treated you at all. You were the only family he had left, and he would do anything for you, “You ok?”

You swallowed hard as you nodded weakly, “I’m ok,” you took in a big breath to steady yourself, “It was Casey wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he grit his teeth, clearly annoyed, “But you’re ok,” he pulled you in for a hug, “We’re ok,” Santi repeated.

You trembled but your brother’s embrace was calming, and the two of you stayed like that for several minutes, “I don’t think I can go back to sleep now.”

He let out a short laugh, “Me either,” he broke away to take a look at your face, “How about some coffee?”

“I don’t wanna stay here…” your voice was weak.

Santi nodded in understanding, “There’s a 24 hour diner, how about we load up the car and go there?”

Instead of leaving at six in the morning, you and your brother walked out of the door around 4:30. Santi tossed his bags in the backseat and offered to drive, but you insisted you could. You needed something to focus your mind. The two of you were the only ones at the diner save for the couple of workers, and you sat at the booth in silence for some time with a pot of coffee on the table between you.

“Go to Frankie’s,” Santi finally broke the silence. He desperately wanted to do something to help you, but he had no idea what.

“What?” you barely heard his voice, too lost in your thoughts.

“I don’t want you home alone after I leave,” he explained, “Go to Frankie’s for now and tell him what happened.”

You winced, you didn’t want to have to relive what happened in your head as you told the story to someone else. Even if it was Frankie. “Alright…”

“Hey,” he laid a hand on top of where yours laid on the table to get you to meet his gaze, “You know I’d stay if I could.”

“I know,” you sighed. You were quiet again for a moment before you changed the subject with a question that had been on your mind, “What did you say to Frankie at the bar last night?”

Santi grinned, “I asked him to take care of you while I’m gone. Because I know he will.” Frankie was the person that he trusted the most, and Santi could tell how much he cared about you. Frankie even confided in him how much he didn’t like Casey and how much he worried for you. If anyone would do anything to protect his family while he was gone, it was Frankie. 

You frowned, “He told you we slept together didn’t he?”

“Nope,” the shit-eating grin that came across Santi’s face was priceless as he leaned back in the booth, “But you just did.”

You sighed dramatically as you buried your face in your hands and collapsed onto the table, “Dammit Santi…” but you also couldn’t help but giggle when you heard his laughter. 

As the sun started to rise on the horizon, the two of you decided to leave for the airport. The talk with your brother and the several pots of coffee helped to ease your nerves, but you still fell quiet again as you drove. Usually, the car ride to the airport was full of chatter, but not today. And Santi hated that he had to leave right after something like this happened, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Santiago bid you goodbye with a tight embrace as you dropped him off at the terminal, and he made you promise to go to Frankie’s. You assured him that you would go straight there, even if it was still ungodly early in the morning. As you watched him walk through the doors and disappear into the small crowd, your heart fluttered as you thought about your next destination. 

It wasn’t that you meant to avoid Frankie since the night you slept with him. You just didn’t know what to do from there, so you only hung out with him in a group with the guys. Of course, you ended up spending most of your time talking to him anyway. There was just something about Frankie that you could not stay away from, no matter how hard you tried.

The sun shone brightly in the sky for how early it was as you drove over to Frankie’s house. You held your breath as you knocked at his door and hoped that he wouldn’t be mad that you woke him up. But, your breath caught in your throat when he answered the door in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung how on his hips. You had seen him naked before, but the sight before you literally knocked the wind out of you.

You temporarily forgot about everything that had plagued your mind for the past couple hours as you stood awestruck at Frankie’s front door. It took you several moments to even notice the grimace on his face as you obviously had woken him up.

But Frankie wasn’t mad; he could never be mad at you. He said your name to snap you out of your thoughts, and he couldn’t help the small chuckle at the way you looked at him. If he was honest with himself, Frankie would have liked to ask you out on an actual date after you two hooked up. But, you came up with the arrangement to keep your relationship under wraps for now before he could. 

“What are you doing here so early?” he asked in a groggy voice, “Everything alright?”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s early,” a heavy sigh escaped your lips as the memories of earlier this morning flooded back, “Can… Can I come in?”

Frankie stepped aside and extended an arm to lead you in, “Of course,” he couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. Obviously something was wrong, and he immediately worried about you. “Did something happen? Everything good with Pope?”

You bit your lip and nodded, “Yeah, he’s on his flight. He’s good,” you sat down on Frankie’s couch and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes as he gently sat down next to you.

His eyes bore into your figure as he asked the silent question in concern for you. Frankie carefully placed a hand on your thigh and gave it a soft squeeze to get you to look at him. The way he looked at you made you melt, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Casey came by early this morning,” you blurted out, “And he and Santi got into it.”

“What?!” Frankie immediately went on high alert as questions poured from his mouth and he wrapped his arms around you without a second thought.

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” you reassured him as you leaned into his embrace, “Santi told him off.” You felt Frankie tighten his grip on you and you swore you heard a growl from deep in his throat, “I just… I don’t know what to do now.” Frankie was the one person you confided to about how nervous Casey made you, and how you thought you had seen him pop up whenever you were out.

“You can stay here,” he said without hesitation, “As long as you want.”

You let out a deep breath. Frankie only had one bedroom, so that either meant you would share a bed with him or you would be just a few feet away on the couch. Either way, you knew what staying the night with him would most likely lead to, and though you wanted that more than anything else in the world, you were hesitant. You weren’t even sure why you were; obviously your brother was more than ok with the idea of you and Frankie together. Maybe you were too afraid to face your own feelings for him.

“I don’t want to impose,” you finally said, “Besides, I hate feeling like I’m scared out of my own house.”

Frankie was quiet for several moments. You were stronger than you gave yourself credit for, and you were stubborn to boot. Then, he had an idea, “How about this,” he started, “I’ll take you to get a new security system and an extra deadbolt for your door,” he stared at your for a moment before he told you the last part of his plan, “And I’ll stay over with you tonight.”

You didn’t need much time before you agreed to his plan, and you spent the entire day with Frankie. He packed himself an overnight bag and followed you in his car to your house to drop it off before he drove you to the store. He could tell that you were still uneasy, so he made a fun day of it and treated you to lunch as well.

The stresses of earlier in the morning melted away the longer you were with Frankie, and you were happy that you went to him. You had always felt comfortable with Frankie, even from the day you first met. And Frankie felt a connection and attraction to you right away as well. He would do anything to protect you, and he cared about you more than he could express with words. 

By the evening, Frankie had installed the new security system and extra locks and you had cooked him a big dinner as a thank you. As the two of you talked for hours, you felt more and more relaxed and the events of earlier this morning were pushed to the back of your mind. That was, until it came time to head to sleep.

“I’ll take the couch,” Frankie offered.

You stood in the living room as you fiddled with your fingers nervously. You didn’t want him to have to sleep on the couch, and you spoke before your mind caught up to your mouth, “Stay with me.”

Frankie stood dumbfounded as he stared at you, “What?”

“You… You can stay in my room. With me,” the last two words were just a whisper as you dropped your gaze down to the floor, “Please?”

A soft grin came across Frankie’s face; he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you asked like that, “Ok,” his voice was just as hushed as yours. 

The tension could be cut with a knife as the two of you settled into your bed. Luckily, it was big enough to fit you both, and as you laid on your side with your back to him, you found that you wanted nothing more than to turn over and nuzzle into his arms. And Frankie had to wrap his arms around his torso to keep from reaching out to you.

You didn’t know how long you laid next to Frankie, but you were sure he wasn’t asleep yet. Without a word, you gave in to your feelings and you rolled over and wrapped your arms around his waist and nuzzled into his back. You heard him gasp softly as he tensed for a moment before he also turned over so he could wrap his arms around you. Frankie pulled you in as close as he could and held you tightly and you smiled into his skin as you rested your head on his chest.

Everything felt right like this, and you would have fallen asleep if it weren’t for the way his heart pounded in his chest. You shifted so that you could look up at him, and the movement made him open his eyes. The two of you stared into each other’s eyes for several long moments before you hauled yourself up slowly and inched closer and closer to his face.

Frankie’s eyes never left yours, except to glance down at your lips once for a brief moment. He breathed your name as he gripped onto you tighter, as if he was afraid to let you go. Your eyes darted down to his own lips for a second before you closed the rest of the gap and placed a tender, soft kiss. He sighed into the kiss and held you as tightly as he possibly could.

He was about to deepen the kiss when a loud crash made both of you jump in surprise. There was a rattle and pounding at your front door, and you immediately panicked. Frankie, however, was quick to jump into action.

“You're ok, You’re ok,” he cupped your face and softened his expression for a moment, “Stay here. Lock your door,” he ordered before he grabbed something from his overnight bag and darted out of your bedroom.

Your hands shook as you did as you were told and quickly locked your door and scrambled back to the floor next to your bed. The sounds were muffled, but you could hear a fight just outside the door. Tears filled your eyes as you hoped that Frankie was ok, and your heart beat rapidly in your chest as you thought about how he did not hesitate for a second to jump in and protect you.

Then, everything got quiet and all you could hear was the sound of footsteps running away. You strained to listen and crawled over halfway to your door. You heard the sound of footsteps followed by running water from the sink before Frankie’s voice rang through the door.

“Baby, it’s me. It’s ok,” his voice was surprisingly calm and soothing, and you immediately jumped up and ran to unlock your bedroom door.

Frankie met you on the other side and you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest, and you let out a deep breath when he hugged you back just as tightly.

“Shhh, it’s ok. You’re ok,” he stroked your back in a soothing manner as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, “I got you. You’re safe.”

“Frankie…” you breathed as you pulled back enough to look at his face, “Are you ok?” you cupped his cheek with one hand as you clung to his shirt with the other.

He smiled at you, “I’m fine,” he paused as he just gazed into your eyes, “He tried to get away, but your neighbor heard us fight and came out to keep him down,” Frankie kept a tight grip on you as he spoke, “Casey won’t bother you ever again. I promise.”

“Thank you, Frankie,” your voice was so quiet that you weren’t sure if he heard you as you dropped the hand that cupped his cheek down to his chest. You were silent again as you stayed securely in his arms, “Frankie I…”

He cut you off with a chaste kiss. Unlike when you kissed him in your bed, this one was more intense and full of passion. It was a desperate kiss, as if he used it to make sure you were actually here and ok. Frankie did not regret beating your ex up for you; he’d do anything to keep you safe. He kissed you for what felt like hours before he finally broke away for air.

“I know baby,” he murmured against your lips, “Me too,” he kissed you again, much more slowly this time. You weren’t going anywhere this time, and he had all the time in the world now to be with you. 

“Pope gonna be ok with this?” he asked with a laugh when he broke away again.

“I’ll handle my brother,” you joined in his laughter, “But he’s ok with it, trust me.”

Frankie gave you a look that said you had explaining to do later, but for now he just wanted to enjoy and relish the time with you and keep you safe in his arms.

[today-only-happens-once]

out of focus

title: out of focus

word count: 3955

summary: 

The actions of a Fire Nation admiral during a meeting causes some problems for Sokka. The words of that admiral causes some problems for Zuko. They try to take care of each other. 

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?” 

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Warnings: burns (description of), violence, threats of violence, discussion of canonical child abuse, characters curse but no curse words are written, character is non-permanently injured, yelling/arguing, trauma

A/N: me? writing a zukka AtLA fic and posting it an hour short of midnight? Apparently, it’s more likely that you’d think. 

Read on AO3

--

Zuko has the patience of a saint, Sokka thinks to himself.

It’s an unusual thought, he realizes. A year ago, if you’d told Sokka that he’d come to think of the Banished Prince as ‘patient’, he’d probably have thrown his boomerang at you. A year ago, Zuko was one of the most short-tempered people he knew. A year ago, Zuko was the face of the enemy.

A lot changes in a year.

Sokka barely stifles a frustrated sigh. The attempt does not seem to go unnoticed by Zuko, who glances at him quickly before the corner of his mouth twitches with something like amusement. The meeting had been going on for hours, and Sokka can’t help but feel that very little progress on the treaty had been made. It wasn’t for lack of trying, Sokka knows, but war leaves messy problems in its wake. He knows that both the literal and metaphorical shrapnel left behind by a century of conflict can’t be swept away in a night or a week or a month.

It doesn’t make these meetings any easier to sit through.

“I want immediate release of all prisoners of war,” an Earth Kingdom ambassador demands.

“I second that,” Sokka hears his father--sitting across the table from him--add, a bit more calmly but no less firm. “I have men in those prisons that haven’t seen their family in a decade.”

“Of course,” Zuko replies at the same time a Fire Nation soldier snaps, “absolutely not.”

Zuko levels a hard look at him. “Admiral, people who were arrested as prisoners of war have no need to remain so after the war has ended.” He looks to Hakoda, then to the Earth Kingdom ambassador. “I’ll draft that mandate tonight and will ensure it’s circulation as soon as possible.”

“This is an outrage!” The slam of a fist against the table makes Sokka’s hand fly to the boomerang strapped to his hip instinctively. The admiral is on his feet.

“Admiral,” Zuko says, his voice steely as he rises from his own chair. The Fire Nation soldier cuts him off.

“Where is the justice for the Fire Nation families whose sons and daughters were slaughtered by those criminals?”

“Admiral--”

“I remember a time when you cared about Fire Nation soldiers! And it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten, seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror--”

“Enough!” Zuko snaps. “You will watch your tongue or you will be escorted out. You approach insubordination.”

“You are a child,” the admiral sneers. “Though one that ought to know a thing or two about insubordination, given your father’s attempts to brand you with a permanent reminder of its consequences--”

“Warriors!”

“Then again, he always was twice the leader you will never be. Long live the Phoenix King!”

Sokka sees the warning signs—the slight shift of weight, the clench of the man’s fists—and leaps to his feet. “Zuko--!”

“Sokka!”

There’s a blinding light and scorching heat. Sokka feels something slam onto his shoulder and he dives instinctively for cover as the familiar roar of a fireball explodes in front of him. The flames are bright and lick around him, and Sokka throws a hand up to protect his face. He blinks the spots from his vision as he yanks his boomerang out of his belt.

Zuko is standing beside him, his stance ready and his hand outstretched, having evidently dispelled the fireball that had been launched at him. Sokka leaps back up to his feet and hurls the boomerang in his hands towards the Admiral, hitting his hand right as he moves to launch another attack and forcing it to go wide. A burst of flames slam against the wall to the left.

The room is in chaos.

Sokka barely hears the shouts of alarm and curses over the roar of dying flames. He sees his father, already on his feet, diving underneath a bolt of red fire. Across the room, the Earth Kingdom ambassador jerks their hand. There’s a rumble in the ground before it rises and anchors around the Admiral’s feet, holding him in place.

Sokka sees the admiral’s gaze meet his own and narrow. The Fire Nation soldier bares his teeth in a snarl, his fist shooting out. Before Sokka can blink, Zuko steps in front of him, dispelling the flames just as the door ricochets open. Two Kyoshi Warriors flood in and in a series of quick strikes, the admiral drops. Awake, but limp.

Sokka thinks idly that he’s grateful that Ty Lee taught them how to block chi.

“Your father should have killed you that day!” the admiral shouts as he’s dragged through the doors. “He showed mercy on your pathetic, worthless—” the door slamming shut cuts him off.

The silence that follows makes Sokka’s ears ring. He can still feel stale adrenaline coursing through him, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For a moment, nobody moves. Zuko awkwardly clears his throat.

“Apologies for the, uh, disruption. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Firelord Zuko,” Hakoda assures him, but there’s something odd in his father’s expression when he looks at Zuko that Sokka doesn’t understand.

Zuko says something in response, but Sokka doesn’t catch it. As the adrenaline bleeds out of him, his muscles relaxing, Sokka realizes that his fists are still clenched. Sokka forces them to relax, and hisses as it sends a jolt of hot pain through his left hand. When he looks down, he realizes that the skin on the top of part of his hand near his knuckles is a blistering, angry red.

Sokka’s hiss doesn’t go unnoticed. Zuko looks at him over his shoulder, his brows drawn together in confusion before his eyes fall to Sokka’s hand. Then, they go wide.

Zuko turns back around suddenly to address the room, his back straighter. “We will adjourn the meeting for the afternoon. We will reconvene tomorrow.”

“Firelord Zuko—” an ambassador from the Northern Water Tribe protests, but Hakoda interrupts him.

“I think we could all use a breather, Kovrik. Coming back tomorrow with a clear head is a good decision.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose that’s fair.”

Sokka is finding it increasingly difficult to follow the conversation. His hand hurts, and it’s taking every last drop of his willpower and pride to grit his teeth and swallow back the whimper that wants to push up his throat. It’s not until Zuko’s face is taking up his entire field of vision that Sokka realizes everyone but the two of them and his father have left the room.

“Let me see,” Zuko says quietly, then curses under his breath when he looks at Sokka’s hand. “Where’s Katara when you need her.”

“Do you have anything that can help?” Hakoda asks from behind Zuko.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko replies, his brows still furrowed in concentration. “Though it’s not quite as immediate as waterbending healers. But it should help with the pain, and prevent infection. Follow me.”

Sokka feels Zuko take his elbow and guide him out the door of the meeting room and down the hall. He’s distantly aware that Zuko is moving quickly—not quite a jog, but only barely shy of it—through a network of corridors. His hand feels like it might still be on fire, and Sokka looks down at it again just to be sure that’s not actually the case. He tells himself that he’s endured injuries more painful than this. The broken leg was worse, he thinks, though it does little to actually help with the burning sensation in his hand.

He’s vaguely aware that Zuko says something quickly to two guards that are flanking a set of doors before he rushes in. Sokka looks up and realizes it’s Zuko’s chambers. He’d only been in here a couple of times before, largely while Zuko was still recovering from Azula’s lightning strike in the weeks following the end of the war.

“Wait here,” Zuko tells him before disappearing through another door on the far side of the room.

“You had good reflexes in there,” Sokka hears his father’s low, soothing voice speak up. He’d had almost forgotten he was there. Hakoda moves the chair that had been beside the bed closer to Sokka in a clear direction to sit down.

“Lots of practice,” Sokka replies as he sits. He hisses a little again as his hand flares and grits out a swear behind clenched teeth.

“Easy,” Hakoda says softly. He places a bracing, comforting hand between Sokka’s shoulder blades. It’s grounding, and he’s grateful.

“Wish Katara was here,” Sokka tells him, echoing Zuko’s comment from earlier.

“I know. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s coming to Caldera for a while. She’s still in Ba Sing Se with Aang.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Her magic water comes in handy though.” Sokka gives his father a tight smile. “Get it? Hand-y?”

Hakoda snorts just as the door opens again. Zuko has his arms full of a large bowl, his hands fisting a few vials and some bandages. There’s something pinched about Zuko’s expression, and the way he doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes as he kneels in front of him feels odd. The bowl is full of water, Sokka realizes, as he sets it on the ground and begins to empty the vials into it.

“Can I see your hand?” Zuko asks, and the question—for some reason—catches him off guard.

Sokka blinks. “Yeah. Sure.” He grimaces as he places his hand in Zuko’s, but the excessive gentleness surprises him so much that Sokka almost forgets that his hand hurts.

Zuko was many things, but Sokka can’t remember a time—even after he started to get along with the Fire Prince—that he would have described Zuko as gentle. But his grip on Sokka’s hand is careful. Almost excessively so.  

Zuko hums in the back of his throat as he inspects the burns. “I don’t think it’ll have permanent damage,” he says quietly. “But I still need to treat it so it doesn’t get infected. It… might hurt, a little. But then it should feel better.”

“No permanent damage. That’s good,” Sokka says. He swallows, and nods. “Okay.”

For a long moment, the only sounds that fills the room is the quiet splash of water in the bowl as Zuko submerges the cloth rag again and wrings it out. Sokka lets his gaze float around the room.

Zuko has left it mostly bare. There’s a portrait of Iroh and a woman that Sokka remembers being the Fire Lady—Zuko’s mother—hanging on the wall near the headboard of the bed. On the dresser beside it is a drawing that Sokka did of the group of them months ago. He sees a pile of papers on the desk across the room. He thinks one of them has Aang’s signature at the bottom, but it’s too far away for him to know for sure.

Bright, painful heat searing his hand slams his attention back to Zuko in front of him and Sokka yelps, yanking his hand away. Zuko grimaces, retracing his own hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding more earnest than Sokka expects. “This part is painful, but it’ll stop hurting in a minute.”

Sokka fights to pull his breathing back under his control. In through his nose, out through his mouth. “Right,” he manages, his voice tight. “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know it hurts.”

Something about that line—and about the fact that Zuko still hasn’t met his eyes since returning from the other room—drags Sokka’s thoughts back to the conversation in the treaty meeting. There were several things that the admiral had said to Zuko that Sokka didn’t quite understand. He could only remember pieces of things said, but they repeat in Sokka’s head like disjointed pieces of a puzzle that he can’t quite make fit together.

seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror… insubordination… your father’s attempts to brand you… consequences…

Sokka’s gaze falls back to Zuko, dutifully bowed in front of him. There had long been pieces about Zuko that Sokka had found puzzling. Things about him that didn’t quite fit together. Sokka considers himself a person pretty good at figuring out how things worked together, and that extended (with less success) to figuring out how parts of people make up the sum of their whole.

Zuko, though… Zuko had always been something of a mystery. But as the words of the admiral ricochet in his mind, there’s a picture beginning to come together that is still just a little too hazy, a little too out of focus, to fill in the spaces that Sokka felt were missing.

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?”

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Sokka’s brow furrows as Zuko presses the rag to the back of his hand again. Sokka realizes that his hand has stopped hurting, but he’s too preoccupied with what Zuko said to pay it much mind. “After the stuff at Ba Sing Se? When you went home?”

“No, I, uh.” Zuko clears his throat. “Before that. Before… yeah. Earlier.”

Your father’s attempts to brand you…

“What happened?” Sokka asks. The way Zuko’s shoulders seem to tense doesn’t escape his attention, and there’s a part of him that wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. But it also feels like a question that once asked, is too late to take back.

Zuko pats Sokka’s hand dry with another towel and begins to gingerly wrap a bandage around it. He keeps his gold gaze steady on the work. Sokka keeps his gaze steady on Zuko.

“My uncle allowed me to attend a war meeting where they were talking about some battle strategies to use against an Earth Kingdom battalion. There was a general that wanted our newest fleet to serve as a distraction while we mounted an attack from the rear,” Zuko begins. There’s something off about his voice, though. Something detached and careful. He keeps wrapping the bandage. Around and around and around.

Sokka frowns. “That’s not fair,” he says. “Your newest recruits? They’d be slaughtered by an experienced battalion like that.”

Zuko sighs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he says in a low voice. “And that’s what I told them. I wasn’t thinking. I just… yelled at him.” Sokka opens his mouth to disagree—it sounds like Zuko was thinking, unlike anybody else at that meeting—but Zuko cuts him off as he secures the end of the bandage to Sokka’s palm. “My father didn’t… take it well. I was challenged to an Agni Kai, and I thought I would be facing the general in it, so I accepted.”

Zuko gathers the bowl and empty vials as he stands, crossing the room to set them on the edge of his desk. Sokka stands up slowly as Zuko does so. The pieces that had been out of focus for so long are starting to come together, and Sokka feels his stomach rolling with a leaden weight against what he can sense is coming.

“No…”

“It wasn’t the general,” Zuko continues, his voice so quiet that Sokka is sure he would have missed it if it hadn’t been dead silence around them. “It was my father.”

“You faced your father in an Agni Kai?”

“Not exactly. I…” Zuko stares down into the bowl of water beside him, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t fight my own father. Instead, I begged him for forgiveness. I was met with a fistful of flames.”

Zuko gestures vaguely at his face, and Sokka’s blood turns to ice.

“He…” Sokka’s throat closes, cutting off the rest of that sentence. All this time being chased by Zuko—all this time being friends with him—and he’d always assumed that the scar was the result of a training accident, or a fight with a firebender he lost. Sokka thinks bitterly and viciously that the second assumption wasn’t far off but his own father—

“I was banished after that,” Zuko says, and his voice is hollow and empty and wrong. And he finally, finally, meets Sokka’s gaze. “I was told to bring the Avatar back and all would be forgiven, or to not come back at all. That was before you and your sister woke Aang up from the iceberg.”

Sokka stands very, very still. He glances down and realizes his hands are trembling. He curls the non-bandaged one into a fist to get the shaking to stop. “How old were you?” he asks, and he doesn’t know why—of everything he could say—that’s the question that tumbles past his lips, but he feels like it matters.

“Thirteen.”

“Thir—” Sokka cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand across his mouth and swallowing hard. “Thirteen. Tui and La, when I was thirteen—”

Sokka breaks off again, his throat closing, his gaze falling to his father. When Sokka was thirteen, his father had left to go fight in the war and told Sokka he couldn’t come along. He’d protected Sokka, and though Sokka had found his way into fighting in the war regardless a few years later, he knows his father had only been trying to keep him safe. The idea of his own father striking him—let alone with a fist full of flames to his face—was incomprehensible.

Hakoda doesn’t look back at Sokka. His gaze is trained on Zuko, and there’s something in his eyes that Sokka doesn’t quite understand. But he’s seen it before. It was the same look Hakoda wears when he hears other water tribe soldiers recount war stories. The late-night ones. The ones where their voices betray the weight on their shoulders and tremble with the generations of nightmares on their backs.

Sokka takes a sudden, faltering step forward, and Zuko instinctively tenses. Sokka freezes. “Zuko…”

Zuko shakes his head. He coughs a little, as if trying to clear his throat. “Anyway. That’s—that’s what the admiral was talking about.”

“You…” Sokka tries again, his voice carrying just the barest hints of hysteria. “You were his kid.”

“Yeah, well.” Zuko’s gaze meets Sokka’s again. “He spent most of my life wishing I wasn’t.”

“Zuko,” Hakoda speaks up, his voice a low, soothing rumble to Sokka’s trembling nerves. “I… hope you understand that you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know, sir,” he replies, sounding steadier than Sokka feels. Sokka feels a little like the ground has shifted beneath his feet as he stares at his friend across the room. Zuko continues, frustratingly calm. “It… I didn’t at first. It took me a long time to understand that it was wrong of my father to do that. But I know now.”

“Where is he?” Sokka demands, flushing with a sudden and intense fury.

Zuko blinks, looking taken aback by the vehemence charged through Sokka’s voice like a steel rod. “Where’s who?”

“Ozai.”

“Sokka, what are you gonna do? Fight him? He already lost.”

“Against Aang, not against—did Aang even know?”

Zuko’s brow furrows and he rubs the back of his neck. “Um. I guess I don’t know. I never told him. I… never told any of you.”

“Yeah—and what’s that about, huh?” Sokka demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Sokka,” Hakoda warns, but Sokka’s words are already bubbling up throat and spilling past his lips, hot and bitter and angry.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Zuko waves a hand towards the window that overlooks the courtyard. “My father already lost to the Avatar, Sokka. The war is over. The fighting is over. Aang took his bending. And that—I don’t know about you, but that’s the best, most justified end to his legacy I can think of.”

Sokka is still shaking. He can’t explain why. He knows, logically, that Zuko is right. He’s right. But Sokka can still feel his hands shaking, can still feel his heart hammering in his ribs with the urge to run something through with sword, can still feel the way his eyes sting with tears he won’t let fall. Sokka clenches his jaw and rips his gaze away from Zuko out towards the window, where he can see the sun setting on the horizon and painting the palace courtyard in an orange light.

“Wherever he is, I hope he rots,” Sokka says finally, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. “He deserves worse.”

Sokka looks back at Zuko, whose gaze is a little wide. He looks… taken aback. Sokka cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you disagree—"

“No,” Zuko replies, shaking his head. “I just… Nothing.” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in the barest hint of a smile. Sokka doesn’t understand why, just like he doesn’t understand why it uncoils the tight knot of burning anger in his chest.

Sokka takes a deep breath. Wills himself to relax. It helps… a little. There’s a beat, and then Sokka hears his father take a step forward. “Thank you for helping Sokka’s hand, Firelord Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, and Sokka swears his cheeks take a faint pink tint as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh, of course, sir. And… just Zuko is fine.”

Sokka glances over and sees Hakoda smile, inclining his head. “Understood.” He looks to Sokka. “I should draft a letter to Bato tonight to update him on the treaty. Will you be okay without me?”

Sokka rolls his eyes teasingly. “Yeah, dad. I think I can manage.”

Hakoda squeezes his shoulder, nods to Zuko again, and quietly slips out of the room. The silence afterward seems to stretch, and Sokka feels the lingering tension bleeding out of him as he looks at Zuko, who quietly shuffles through the papers on his desk. Sokka watches him for a beat, his gaze lingering a little on the scarred tissue across his face. Sokka swallows.

There are other questions Sokka thinks he could ask. Like why—after doing that—Zuko was still so bent on returning home to his father. But there’s a part of Sokka that thinks he maybe understands.

Spirits know that he understood what it was like to crave the approval of your father.

“Hey,” he says, and Zuko’s gaze snaps over to him. “I… thank you for telling me. I… know that wasn’t easy, and… it means a lot that you trust me with that.”

“It… it wasn’t a question of trust, you know,” Zuko replies quietly, averting his gaze. “Not telling you, I mean. It was just—”

“I know,” Sokka says, and means it. “But I also know what it’s like to have things you don’t necessarily… want to relive. So it means a lot that you told me.”

The corner of Zuko’s mouth twitches again. He takes a deep, slow breath. “Thank you for listening,” he says.

“I like to think I’m a pretty good listener,” Sokka teases, shrugging.

“You are,” Zuko says, with far more sincerity than Sokka felt was warranted for what he’d meant to be a joke. Sokka blinks at him, and Zuko clears his throat, ducking his head a little. “I was thinking of getting some tea. There’s a place just outside the palace. It’s not as good as Uncle’s, but um. Did you want to come?”

“Yeah,” Sokka replies with a small smile. “I could use a cup of tea.”  

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[babyboibucky]

Babysitting Bucky - Part 5

Pairing: FATWS!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Summary: You’ve been assigned by the government to keep an eye on the Winter Soldier to ensure that he was no longer a threat to the world.

A/N: It has begun lmfao, check out the link at the end of this post if you’d like to be tagged in the next updates! Would love to receive feedbacks! 

MASTERLIST

-

You found yourself in the conference room of the Avengers compound, together with Sam, Bucky, Sharon and Fury discussing about an upcoming mission.

Sharon went over the brief of the mission with everyone. There was an intel about a certain drug cartel that decided to expand their business and venture into the trade of biological weapons as well. Grabbing the folder on the desk, you skimmed through the information and frowned when your eyes landed on a familiar name.

“Black Sparrow? I thought the entire organization was taken down during the raid years ago?” You asked.

Bucky turned to you, “You know these guys?”

“One of my first missions, I was the assigned liaison officer to check up on the whistleblower who was placed under the witness protection program.” You explained.

Sharon sighed, “Apparently, not everyone was imprisoned. Whoever decided to keep the organization going, we have no idea.”

The mission required all of you to find out about the illegal trades. There wasn’t much information provided, except for the tip that an important trade might be taking place soon.

“Black Sparrow’s nest is said to be hidden within a fruit shop downtown.” Sharon added.

Fury let Sam takeover the strategizing, with him deciding to do a stakeout to see how the organization operates. Once the trade takes place, raid the nest, find out the other groups involved and most importantly the source of biological weapons.

“You up for a stakeout, Buck?” Sam asked.

Bucky shrugged and glanced at you, “Only if the babysitter agrees to do so.”

You let out an exasperated breath, “Mister Barnes, I would appreciate it if you’d address me properly.” You scolded.

Sam cleared his throat, “Alright. Sharon and I will try to research on the potential groups involved in the trades. Stakeout starts tonight so pack your things.”

-

All your things have been packed and you were about to leave your room when you received a call from none other than Secretary Ross.

“Ugh, what does he want now?” You complained to yourself before accepting the call.

“I heard about the stakeout, Agent. Isn’t it convenient?”

You rolled your eyes; the secretary’s voice was too chirpy, as if he was excited. He was definitely up to something, what it was, you still didn’t know. Something about the mission you were tasked to do was off. They didn’t even tell you for how long you needed to tag along the Winter Soldier.

“Yes, sir. I will make sure to keep an eye on the subject and report whatever it is that I find out of place.” You reassured, hoping that the secretary would simply hum in agreement and end the call.

“Good. But wouldn’t it be better if you stir things up a bit?” He asked.

You frowned, “I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

Secretary Ross chuckled, “Push his buttons, Agent. See how he reacts to certain triggers.”

God, he really wants you to dig some dirt on Bucky. You were supposed to tell him that you already tried doing so and that nothing bad happened, but the Secretary reminded you that he wanted to see a detailed report about it and ended the call.

You didn’t want to push Bucky’s buttons anymore. Bringing up the Soldat seemed too much already and he had already proven how much in control he was of himself. However, you felt conflicted as well since you needed to file a report. You could easily fake it though, but you were afraid that the secretary might have eyes and ears lurking around.

You were too deep into your thoughts, almost losing track of the time. Thankfully, FRIDAY interrupted and informed you that Bucky and Sam were already outside the compound, waiting for you.

-

“You’re eight minutes late, Agent.” Sam reprimanded as you approached them.

“Did you have a hard time packing Bucky’s diapers and feeding bottles?” He teased.

Bucky grunted in dismay, “Jesus, Sam.”

“Sorry, had to take a phone call from the secretary.” You responded and began placing your things inside the trunk of the car.

Bucky stiffened at the mention of Secretary Ross, his hands tightened into fists at his side. You eyed his stance and noticed that he seemed uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t be if the government had their eyes on you?

“Nothing to worry about, Mister Barnes. You’re all good. I made sure of that.” You told him reassuringly before sliding into the passenger’s seat.

Bucky drove to the stakeout location with an uncomfortable silence in the air with the occassional directions coming from the GPS. You were slightly nervous about being on a week-long stakeout. It wasn’t because you were afraid of Bucky, but being with him by yourself was intimidating.

Seven days with the Winter Soldier. With no one else around.

You and the Winter Soldier. On a stakeout. For an entire week.

The more you thought about it, the more it was beginning to sink in. You’ve had your fair share of stakeouts in the past, but you were either by yourself or paired someone you closely worked with. But a stakeout with Bucky Barnes? How the fuck were you going to keep calm the entire week and maintain your calm persona?

“So...” Bucky trailed, tone unsure as if he too was uncomfortable with the silence and decided to break it but not knowing how to proceed.

“Do you want to turn on the radio?” He asked and cleared his throat, keeping his gaze on the road.

You looked out the window, “Yeah, why not.” You said with faux nonchalance.

Bucky quickly turned it on and adjusted the volume. He skimmed through various radio stations before settling on one.

Despite having the radio playing in the background, the atmosphere between you and Bucky remained awkward and uncomfortable. You could tell that Bucky could feel it too, so you decided to start a conversation.

“How has it been being an Avenger?”

You didn’t know why you chose that question, but it was the first thing that popped into your mind.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, “Is that part of your research on me or are you actually trying to start a conversation?” He asked, glancing at you with amusement.

“You know what, forget about it, Mister Barnes.” You waved off.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was genuinely curious.” He sheepishly responded, “But to answer your question, it’s been...weird so to speak. Especially having someone watch my every move.”

You shrugged, “Well, I apologize but I don’t have a choice. This is my job and I have to—“

“I know, Agent. You don’t need to explain, I completely understand. I’m really trying not to make it hard for you to do your job.” He explained.

You were actually surprised at how easy it was to talk to Bucky. You were expecting him to be completely broody and tight-lipped, considering all the things he went through. There were times when he’d be moody of course, but for the most part, he was friendly. And very kind.

“Well then I appreciate it, Mister Barnes.” You stated.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh, “I’m still looking forward to the day when you’d call me, Bucky.” He said and gave you a smile.

You felt your face heat up from the way he smiled at you and how his eyes crinkled at the sides. He almost looked the same as he did in his photos dated back to the 40’s, when he was oozing with that boyish charm and innocence before he was drafted for the war.

You immediately looked away and bit your lip.

-

The two of you arrived at the cheap motel that was situated a few blocks away from the fruit shop. The building was old and almost looked dilapidated. It was known to be the number one spot for illegal transactions. It was the perfect place for a stakeout.

“The old lady at the reception seemed suspicious of us, I saw how she eyed the both of us when we checked in.” You said upon entering the motel room, groaning at the stench that welcomed your nostrils.

Obviously, the room was far from decent given the quality of the motel itself. There were two beds separated by a night desk and a small coffee table; the cream curtains were splotchy and dusty, some parts of the wallpaper were torn apart and the flooring creaked with every single step.

“I think she was merely judging us, thinking we’re one of those couples.” Bucky said as he placed his bags on the bed.

“Those couples?” You asked, walking over to the other bed and inspecting the bedding.

“Well, I heard this motel is a popular location for shooting x-rated videos.” Bucky explained casually as he walked towards the window, pushing the curtains aside, revealing the perfect view of Black Sparrow’s nest.

You almost choke on your own spit, “You mean to say...that old lady thought we were going to shoot porn?!”

Bucky hummed, “Maybe. It’s probably for the best, that way we’ll remain unsuspicious. Less chances of being interrupted as well.” he replied casually, as if it was no big deal but you also noticed that the corner of his lips curved into a slight smirk.

Clearing your throat, you regained your composure and went to unpack your things instead, starting with some of the weapons you brought. A stakeout often resulted to a raid so you had to make sure that you were prepared in case of an attack. Bucky moved away from the window and closed the curtains again before sitting on his bed.

“Those all yours?” he asked with interest as he watched you arrange your knives and guns on top of your bed.

You glanced at him for a quick second and saw the glint in his eyes as he observed your arsenal, you just hummed in response and started cleaning your guns while Bucky watched in silence.

“When we sparred...” he trailed and you froze, expecting him to confront you when you brought up the Soldat to trigger him.

“You used Romanoff’s technique. Where did you learn that?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Mister Barnes, it’s not that hard to learn that move. I’m just as trained as you and Mister Wilson, I know a lot of moves.” you explained but Bucky didn’t seem to buy it.

“It’s actually kinda hard to execute that move. Not a lot of trained agents can do that easily.” he pressed.

You pursed your lips before looking up at him, “Sounds to me like you’re trying to compliment my skills, Mister Barnes.”

Bucky ended up letting go of the topic.

-

The first few hours of the stakeout was uneventful; you and Bucky simply kept watch to see whether there were suspicious movements in the fruit shop. It seemed to be a regular fruit shop but there were certain people walking in and out of it that looked pretty shady.

This was going to be a difficult task.

There were small conversations between you and Bucky, mostly formal and about the mission. Everything seemed to be going well but you knew that the longer the both of you would stakeout together, the more it was going to be uncomfortable. You figured that you’d cross that bridge when you get there.

It was past six when you felt a pang of hunger; the last time you had a meal was during lunch. You needed to get food before your stomach could even embarrass you in front of Bucky who remained staring out of the window, keeping watch.

“I’m getting us food for dinner, would you like anything?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head, “Anything is fine.” he offered a small smile.

You left the motel and thankfully, there was a nearby Mcdonald’s a couple blocks away. On your way back, you decided to casually pass by the fruit shop to get a closer look. You didn’t want to linger around but you did notice that there were certain people who kept on going in and out of the store throughout the day. You rushed back to your room to inform Bucky about it and upon stepping inside, you were welcomed by the sight of the Winter Soldier fresh out of the shower wearing only a towel that was wrapped around his waist while he was drying his hair with another towel.

Your eyes immediately zoomed in on the droplets of water that was running from Bucky’s neck down to his pecs, sliding lower to his chiseled abs. Your eyes remained on his abdomen, even when the water had disappeared into the towel around his waist. By the time you snapped out of your trance, you shifted your gaze back to Bucky’s face hoping that he didn’t catch you staring at his body.

Oh, but it was too late because your eyes were immediately met by a pair of baby blues.

“I...b-bought...” you stammered and wanted to slap yourself for sounding like an idiot. “...dinner from uh...Burger King.” you continued, unable to look away from Bucky’s piercing gaze.

“Mcdonald’s.” he said.

“What?”

“You bought from Mcdonald’s...not Burger King.” Bucky corrected you, pointing towards the brown paper bag in your hands.

You coughed and finally managed to look away from Bucky’s half-naked figure, “Yes, I meant Mcdonald’s. Sorry.” you softly said and pre-occupied yourself by taking out the food from the paper bag and placing them on the small table.

As you focused your attention on arranging the food on the desk, you felt Bucky hover behind you. His bare chest slightly pressing against your back as he reached for the french fries that was still inside the paper bag. You stood still and tried to keep your cool despite the closeness between you and Bucky. He pulled away just as quickly and grinned when you looked back at him with a frown.

“You smell good, Agent.” he said before grabbing his clothes from his bed and walking back into the bathroom to get dressed.

You blinked a couple of times before you realized what had just happened.

“Fuck!” you whispered under your breath.

This was going to be one hell of a stakeout.

-

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[sergeantsporks]

Your recent post gave me a craving for a whump fic where Amity DOES stab Hunter, but it's not immediately fatal. Eda finds her kneeling, in shock, next to Hunter, who is unconscious and laying in a large and growing pool of blood. Eda or Amity seals the wound (Owlbert or fire glyph or abomination plug?) but he has lost too much blood and they race against time to the healing coven for a transfusion, ring the doorbell and hide. They spend the night hidden outside, waiting to see if he made it.

I am 100% focused on whumptober, I whisper as I open up another word document, I am not getting distracted by side-fics

“If you really wanna help, then give me that key!”

Hunter lunged forward, his staff catching the string of the key around Amity’s neck and tearing it loose. Amity lunged for the key—Luz neededthat!

Hunter’s weapon pinned her arm, and she reacted instinctively, her magic forming to her fear and creating a sharp weapon on the end of her hand. Amity swung her arm up almost without thinking, and the pressure from Hunter’s staff dropped away as he let out a choked, garbled scream.

Amity froze, her abomination weapon buried right where Hunter’s neck met his jaw. She hastily shoved the key in her pocket, grabbing the front of his cloak as he fell and lowering him to the ground. Her weapon was still stuck, and she forced herself not to remove it, instead kneeling next to him. “Don’t die!” she begged him.

Hunter gurgled in a final kind of way, blood dripping down the surface of Amity’s weapon.

“No, no, no, no—”

Please don’t die!

Xxx

Eda dove down through the tunnels, worry fighting excitement. She hadn’t heard Amity or King in a minute—she knew they could handle themselves, but the golden guard had bested both her and Luz together before.

She swooped out into a wide cavern.

“Eda!” King called. He was stuck, horns first, in a rock, and Eda tugged him out.

“Whoa, you made short… work… of…”

She landed next to Amity, who was staring blankly ahead. The sleeve of her coat was soaked in blood, and it was starting to drip down into a red stain on the sand.

It wasn’t hers.

Amity seemed very determined not to look down at Hunter, her eyes glazed over. Eda couldn’t blame her for disassociating from the situation—she wouldn’t want to have her talons stuck in someone’s face, either. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to do it.

“Boots—Hey, Amity.” Eda took her shoulders. “Amity, are you hurt?”

Amity shook her head, tears blooming in the corners of her eyes. “I can’t move,” she whispered, “He’ll bleed out.”

Eda took another look at Amity’s blood-soaked sleeve. Wouldn’t be long before that happened anyway, at this rate.

“Okay,” she said quietly, “Okay, Amity. Just a few more seconds, alright?” She traced a fire glyph on the ground, scooping up the fire in her talons. Thank you, owl-beast. She put her free hand on Amity’s shoulder. “Okay. Let him go in three… two… one!”

Amity pulled her hand away, her abomination goo mixed with blood. Eda quickly put her fire against Hunter’s face, wrinkling her nose as the smell of burning flesh hit her nostrils.

Hunter let out a gurgling scream, his back arching. Eda removed the fire, and he went limp. “Hey—you still alive?” she felt for a pulse. It was there, but weak. Uh-oh. Eda glanced at Amity, who was hugging herself tightly, rocking back and forth. Eda shook her head. Poor kids. Both of them.

She could hear movement in the tunnels—time to bounce. She scooped up Hunter. He needed help—the cauterization wouldn’t hold forever, and he’d already lost too much blood. “Okay, everyone hang on!”

King and Amity grabbed her arms, and she lifted up into the air, flapping out of the cave and into the sky. Hunter shivered violently, heaving in wet coughs frantically. Eda flapped her wings just a little harder, slicing through the air like a knife.

Amity’s grip started to loosen, and she stared ahead, still not looking at Hunter. Eda glanced down at her.

“Hey. Boots. It’s okay—you didn’t mean to hurt him this bad.”

“He attacked you,” King reminded her.

“I didn’t have to make the weapon so sharp,” Amity said in a daze, “I could have used a hammer, or something blunt.”

“You were in the middle of a fight. Things happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Eda swooped in for a landing when she saw glimmering lights. “There’ll be a healing coven center some—there!” She gently settled Hunter down on the doorstep of the hospital, then gestured for Amity and King to hide. She knocked twice on the door, then dove into the bushes, joining the kids.

The door opened, and Eda heard a gasp from the healer, and shouts for a blood test.

“Okay. Time to go.”

Amity grabbed her arm. “We can’t leave him!”

“There’s nothing else we can do.”

“Please, I… I need to make sure he survives.”

Eda took her arms. “And what if he doesn’t?” she said quietly. Maybe not the best thing to say right now, but she couldn’t sugarcoat it—he might not live the night, no matter how hard the healing coven tried. She knew from experience that they couldn’t fix everything.

“Then I need to know.”

Eda settled down next to her. “Okay. Fine. We’ll stick around.”

Amity twisted her blood-stained hands. “…Eda? Do you… really think it’s okay?”

Eda heaved a sigh. Oh, boy. Parenting. “You were in a fight,” she repeated, “Everything happens fast, you have to make split-second decisions. You’ve never really been in a real witches’ duel before, the one with Luz didn’t count. And he’s trained in combat. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t acted?” Eda gently tugged the gloves off of Amity’s hands, and removed her coat, tossing the bloodstained clothing articles out of her sight. It felt warm enough here that it wouldn’t be a problem to get rid of the extra layers. “I don’t think you reacted wrongly. There might have been another way out of the situation, but that doesn’t make the way you took any worse.”

Eda drew an invisibility glyph, holding her breath and flapping up to the windows. There was Hunter—healing coven members were all gathered around him, checking his heart rate. His arm was plastered with patches—Eda could recognize painkillers and sedation in there, as well as a stimulant patch—probably to keep his heart beating. Whoof. He was going to be completely out of it when he woke up.

If he woke up.

Quit that, she scolded herself. She couldn’t think like that, for Amity’s sake. Eda dove back down, as she took a breath and the spell ended. Amity shifted from foot to foot. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Okay, okay, hold your breath.” Eda scooped Amity up, holding her own breath with the invisibility spell and flapping back up to the window.

The healing coven had added a few more patches—more painkillers, another stimulant, and now a bag full of red blood dripped into his arm. Amity made a little noise, and Eda ducked back down. “You can’t take a breath, the spell fades,” she hissed. Amity nodded, taking in another breath as Eda pulled back up with another spell.

Even more painkillers. At this point, Eda sincerely doubted that Hunter would be able to form a coherent thought. Or move. But then he did, his fingers twitching. He coughed, his eyes opening just ever-so-slightly. His glazed-from-pain-meds eyes slid around the room, landing on the window—and looking directly at them. Amity gasped, and Eda dove back down. “I’m not bringing you up there if you keep stopping the invisibility spells,” she scolded.

“Sorry.”

Eda set her down. “You stay here, and I’ll report back down, okay?”

She swooped back up to the window. The coven members had put a couple more sedation patches on Hunter’s arm, and he was passed out again, the rise and fall of his chest still uneven.

Eda landed next to Amity and King. “They’ve got him pretty hopped up on sedation and painkillers.”

Amity bit her lip. “Is that good? Is that bad?”

“Good,” Eda replied. Maybe if she said it confidently enough, Amity would believe her and stop worrying.

And it worked. At least a little. There was a tiny little relaxation of her shoulders. Eda nudged her. “You should get some sleep. You’ve had a long day. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

Amity shook her head. “How can I—actually, that doesn’t… sound like a bad idea.”

Amity sat down with a sigh. “Eda. Be honest. Do you… do you really think he’s going to be okay?”

Eda hissed out through her teeth. “I… I don’t know. It was a nasty wound—but he’s one tough customer. If anyone can get through it, it’ll be him.”

Amity ran a hand through her hair. “He was so desperate. So scared to fail.”

Eda extended one wing around her. “And if he’d succeeded, you’dbe the one in the hospital bed. Amity. I know it’s hard to have this kind of… burden, I suppose. It’s good that it’s hard for you to hurt someone else—it means you’ve grown as a person since when you first met Luz. But you can’t think too hard about it, okay?”

Amity didn’t respond. She’d fallen asleep, her chest rising and falling steadily, snuggled in Eda’s wing. “Ohp—okay. This is a thing that’s happening.”

Eda gently slid her wing out from around Amity, settling the witchling on the ground. She flapped back up to the window. The coven members had all disappeared, leaving Hunter alone. His breathing had evened out, his chest rising and falling evenly. Even with the multitude of patches plastered on his arm, his face was still twisted up in pain, and blood stained through the bandages wrapped around his face. His face very nearly matched the color of the bandages—pale as paper, the dark circles under his eyes standing out like bruises against his skin.

After watching for a while to make sure the healing coven wasn’t coming back, Eda gingerly slid the window open, slipping into the room. Hunter shivered at the sudden draft from the window, but didn’t wake up. Eda supposed that the four sedation patches on the belly of his forearm saw to that. She shook her head. “You really got yourself into a mess, huh, kid?”

Eda heard a chirp, and Hunter’s cloak rustled. The cardinal palisman wriggled out, warbling softly and sadly, gently pecking the uninjured side of Hunter’s face. Eda scooped up the little bird.

“I wouldn’t do that. He needs his rest.” Eda patted the bird’s head. “You picked a heck of a witch to bond to, huh? No powers, self-destructive—”

The palisman pecked her fingers indignantly and fluttered back down to Hunter’s chest, chirping softly at him. To Eda’s surprise, Hunter’s face relaxed just ever-so slightly. She glanced out the window—the sun was starting to rise. She gave the palisman another pat on the head.

“You got it from here?”

It chirped an affirmation, and Eda started out the window.

“Hngh…”

Eda whirled back around. Hunter’s eyes were open just a slit, giving her a dazed, unfocused look. She moved back and knelt down next to him. “Hey. You gave us a scare.”

“Mrgh.” He winced, his fingers twitching like he was trying to touch his face.

“No way. You need to hold still. Look. Kid. Amity’s really sorry she stabbed you. She was freaking out about it. Wouldn’t let us leave until she was sure you’d be okay. We weren’t going to just leave you for dead—but Belos would have. Listen to me—you drove yourself crazy over that blood and ended up getting really hurt trying to continue a fight you weren’t going to win. Belos isn’t worth that. And if you keep trying to please him, you’re just going to isolate yourself and get yourself hurt worse. This time, we were able to get you help. Next time, you might not be so lucky, or you might fight someone who won’t be as nice as Amity.” Eda sighed. “You probably won’t even remember this—you’re out of your mind on painkillers. But hey. Take care of yourself. And… maybe start considering that if this is what he drives you to, then Belos might not be the kind of guy you want to follow.”

“Hrgh—”

Eda looked around and found a stack of pain patches. She applied it over one of the used-up ones, and Hunter’s eyes slowly closed. She went back to the window. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

Eda jumped back down to where Amity was waiting, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “He’s going to be okay.

Amity grabbed her arm. “He is?”

Eda nodded. “He’s in rough shape, but he’ll make it.”

Amity’s legs wobbled, and she slumped against Eda. “He’ll be okay,” she said dazedly, “I didn’t kill him.”

Eda scooped her up, tucking a still-sleeping King under her arm. “C’mon. Let’s go home.” She cast one last look at the hospital as they flew away.

Good luck, kid.

[regina-del-cielo]

Immortal Siblings AU | Four, then three, then four again

I mentioned that the bulletpoint post describing how the Guard from the Immortal Siblings AU found Joe had totally run away from me. It has, in fact, become a study on them grieving over Lykon and then finding Yusuf. 

I have, somehow, reached a sort of natural end to the amount of bullshit my mind can add to this list/fic draft. So, if you want to give it a read... grab a snack. It’s long. I’m sorry.

Warnings for Wikipedia levels of historical accuracy - I added links to the relevant pages when quoting historical events, but since I was just trying to work out a timeline (famous last words), the research wasn’t extensive. There’s a lot of hand-waving.

By the end of the 11th Century, I think Andy, Quynh and Nico haven’t been in Europe for a while, not really. They moved south, and then east, after the sack of Rome of 410 CE. Seeing the great cities fall has become hard for them, especially for Nico, who is a nomad at heart but has a soft spot for cities, together with Lykon, the true city boy in the group. He’d seen it happen to Athens, he wasn’t sure he could deal with seeing Rome wilt.

For reasons I cannot fathom, my mind is settled on them having been in India when Lykon dies (possibly sometime around the middle of the 6th century, in the mess that was the crumbling of the Gupta Empire???)

Seeing him die destroys them, and they take a break from any battlefield to grieve their friend and brother. They wander, occasionally helping but almost never raising their weapons, too leery of injuries and of losing each other.

(Quynh, who was the first to notice Lykon’s wounds, has nightmares that make her cry in her sleep. Andromache holds her so tight Nico can feel the tension on her muscles against his back. He and his sister barely sleep, scared of the open spaces of Asia as they’d never been before. Lykon was the youngest of them and he died, what if they stop healing too?)

(If Nico stands guard over his sisters and feels an ache in his chest seeing how they hold onto each other, he’s never going to say it out loud. His Mache deserves the love she shares with Quynh. But sometimes he wishes he had someone to hold him like that, one he can call his heart.)

The first time they go to battle again like in the old days it’s almost the end of the 10th century, and they’re helping Quynh’s lands gain independence from China. They have a reason and a specific side to root for, and it’s the kind of cause Lykon would have approved of. They find purpose again.

They are distantly aware of how things are holding up in the west – they know Constantinople has crowned itself capital of the Roman Empire (what is left of it anyway); they know of the new religion, Islam, and how it was brought further east with the armies conquering Persia. They met the Varangians on the Northern Plains of the Rus’, when Andy insisted on going back to their steppes for a while.

They acquire new swords, repair the old weapons, make improvements on their bows. They travel, and help, and listen. They learn new languages. They heal.

They’ve just spent the winter in Samarkand when they hear merchants newly come from Constantinople talk about the Frankish armies that took Antioch and making their way further into Palestine. 

The words ‘freeing Jerusalem from the infidels’ make Andy sigh in exasperation and twist Nico’s guts. The three of them don’t really understand the point of going to war for a god, but Jerusalem is old, and she’s been coveted by many throughout their long lives. Things like this never end well, they know it intimately.

But they’ve been away for a long time, centuries at this point. Things are very different from when the Romans had the power. They are less eager to throw themselves into the battlefield now, and there’s much they don’t know about the dynamics of Europe and the Levant. Still they’re worried, and decide that they’ll move west to see if something can be done, for the civilians at least.

At first they travel slowly, keeping an ear out for gossip spoken by the caravans coming from the west. Things radically change, however, when they dream of a new immortal (a man, with a curly black beard and shining dark eyes) dying on the walls of Jerusalem and reviving to an unprecedented slaughter – said man is, obviously, absolutely terrified and they feel it.

He’s also woken up surrounded by living enemies, with high risk of being killed or injured multiple times, and of being seen.

They are still too far away to do anything more than hope that the new guy is clever enough to keep himself alive until they can reach him, but now Nico is all for moving west at full speed to get him out.

“What the everloving FUCK is happening over there?!” is the common theme in their thoughts; nothing about this war they’re walking towards is making any sense.

Yusuf al-Kaysani is, in fact, clever enough to keep himself (and a few other civilians to boot) alive and get out of Jerusalem when it becomes clear than no matter how many Franks he kills he can do nothing to stop them alone. (It’s a fucking carnage, and he’s so tired). He walks away from the battle and tries to reach some sort of safety in the desert.

When he’d decided to stay in Jerusalem and fight instead of escaping the siege, Yusuf had considered the possibility of dying. He had not accounted for waking up from a fatal wound with no sign of having been hit in the first place.

And then there are the visions. Or dreams, he’s not sure. They don’t seem to make any sense? Who are those people?! Is his mind so addled by the war that he’s conjuring scary warrior women and a stupidly handsome man, armed to the teeth and camping in the desert?

(fantasizing about handsome men in his sleep isn’t exactly news for him, but there were never women in those. And none of his usual dreams involved weapons. Something is definitely off)

For the following days, Yusuf makes sure to stay away from human settlements while putting as much space as possible between Jerusalem and himself – the last thing he needs is to become a potential target for any invader that may cross his path.

But he’s alone, having nightmares, constantly on edge, and in a body that suddenly doesn’t feel like his own anymore, since he doesn’t even have the scars to prove that the injuries he sustained were real to begin with.

After a couple of weeks, the appearance of the strangers in his dreams starts feeling safe and comforting; they seem to operate like a little family, and God knows how much he misses his own.

(should he try to go back home? Would news of the siege reach his family before he does? Would he be able to go back to his previous life in the state he’s in? Could he keep this secret from them? Would they still love him or think him a monster?)

Despite their impressive warrior appearance, they feel... kind. And gentle. Sometimes, it feels like they’re trying to reassure him, even. Especially when he dreams from the perspective of the man.

The sensation those dreams leave on his skin is like a cape. You’re not alone, it whispers. Wait for us.

Andy, Quynh and Nico have just left Baghdad when the dreams change, and not for the better - Yusuf was passing through a village when a band of marauding Franks started harassing the locals. He moved to defend the villagers, but was overwhelmed and what’s worse, the Franks saw his wounds close too fast. Their reaction was vehement: they called him a demon, incapacitated him and then brought him back to their garrison, with every intention of ‘properly getting rid of him’.

Nico wakes up screaming and Andy has to sit on him so he doesn’t just sprint ahead without actually knowing where the fuck he’s going.

“We can’t just raid every single Frankish encampment in a twenty mile radius around Jerusalem, Nico!” “TRY ME” *Aggressive Sibling Bickering follows* *Quynh doesn’t bat an eye and just rolls out a map of the area she purchased and starts mapping out the fastest routes*

Yusuf is having a Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week at the hands of his captors, who are getting disturbingly creative in their tortures, but whenever they let him fall unconscious he sees the people of his dreams travelling much faster than before, looking Royally Pissed Off, and the surroundings are... starting to look familiar too? 

If he tries to pay more attention to the conversations his torturers are having with each other outside of the tent he’s in and hoping the dreams go both ways, so the maybe-real trio can find him easier, now that’s nobody’s business but his own.

(spoiler: it works)

When they are in sight of Jerusalem, the immortals find a drunk “pilgrim” boasting about his band capturing a ‘pagan demon’ while coming back from their victory at Ascalon, follow him back to his camp, and as soon as it’s feasible they attack.

(Andy will later gripe that Nico didn’t leave her anything to do because he just paved his way through the Franks like he was harvesting wheat.)

seeing the Stupidly Handsome Man of his dreams standing in front of him covered head to toe in blood, with a double-bladed axe in one hand and a sword in the other, staring intensely at him as if to peer directly into his soul is... an experience for Yusuf.

(he may have composed a lot of poems about that first vision of Nico through the centuries. The words ‘avenging angel’ have been used quite profusely, too)

The protective instinct that Nico has felt for the newest immortal since the first dream clutches at his throat when he finally sees him, chained to a pole and so thin his clothes barely cling to his body, but with the softest dark eyes staring back with a glint of recognition when he comes closer.

(he could cry with relief at the knowledge that he’s not scared of him. Nico has seen the faces of the men that were keeping him captive, he knows he looks a lot like they did, and that he paints a gruesome picture.)

“Are you alright?” Nico asks first, in Greek. (He knows, from the dreams, that his captors prayed in Latin. He wants to make sure that the other knows that he’s not like them.)

“You were in my dreams. You came.” Yusuf answers back in the same language, although his sounds much newer than Nico’s.

“Of course. We’re not meant to be alone… and no one deserves to be in a cage”.

Nico uses the axe to break the chains, and by the time he’s done Andy and Quynh have reached them and his sister throws the keys at him to open the shackles.

“Couldn’t take a moment to get them yourself, little eagle? You wanted to show off your skills to the new one?” Quynh teases, just to see Nico blush. Andy stares at her brother and their new companion for a few beats, before finally asking his name.

“Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani, known as al-Tayyib” he answers, letting out the first smile in weeks at the raising eyebrows of his saviours. “Just Yusuf is fine.”

“You have a sense of humour, brother. I like you!” Andy snorts, before cutting her palm with the edge of her axe, and showing him her fast healing.

“We are like you, Yusuf. That’s why you dreamt of us, and we of you” Nico adds gently, while Quynh offers her waterskin to Yusuf. They also offer their own names.

“We need to clean up this mess and move away from here” Andy says, while Nico helps Yusuf up. “One of those fuckers was boasting about an undying demon with others in a tavern, the last thing we need is to fight our way out against their whole army because someone else decided to come check if he was saying the truth.”

“It’s been a long time since we were in Kush” Quynh whispers, and Yusuf sees their faces open in a look of affectionate grief he remembers seeing on his Baba’s eyes when he talked about his own mother.

“We can talk about it more when we’re somewhere safer” Andromache suggests, before moving to set up the stage of an ‘accidental’ fire.

As they’re riding away, Yusuf turns slightly to watch the camp burn, leaving no trace of the invaders that hurt him. Jerusalem looms in the distance - lost, and wounded. If he were a little less exhausted, he could  easily work out a metaphor about his own situation.

But then he looks at the three people of his dreams – Quynh, Andromache, Nikolaos – that came for him. Who are the same as him, immortal.

His world has turned upside down, and there are so many questions to ask, and he could sleep for a month straight – but one thing is certain. 

He’s not alone anymore.

[pebblysand]

[OF MOULDY HOUSES] - [EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTES ON CHAPTER X OF CASTLES]

well, hello, hello! i hope you’re all doing well and ready to celebrate (or not) your holiday of choice with plenty of food and love this end of year. as per usual, i am writing and posting this extended a/n in a state of extreme sleep deprivation (the lovely @displayheartcode yesterday night told me to go to bed and post with a “well-rested head” which made me lol because when have i ever?) but at least, i did leave the a/n to this morning, so there’s that.

now, a few facts about this chapter before i dive in:

wordcount: 15,176. there’s a story behind that i promise lol.

soundtrack: blizzard by fauve. i know a lot of you won’t be able to appreciate this song because it’s in french, but trust me on this. we are not of those who believe that when the tables move, it’s because someone is pushing them with their feet.

favourite line: ’We’ve had to make compromises.’

what is this chapter about? the line between black and white, perhaps.

okay, now, spoilers under the cut.

i know this doesn’t sound much like me but i’m actually very happy with how this chapter turned out. also, it totally wrote itself. last chapter was so hard to write but this one just… appeared. i mean, of course, as per usual, i did a lot of re-reads and edits, but they were inspiring rather than painful. this being said, as i explained in the short a/n last night, i was sort of surprised to post it. i knew i would be doing the last edits before christmas but i really didn’t know if i was going to post it without the next couple of chapters being ready and it really was yesterday at the last minute that i decided i would.

the difficulty with writing this chapter was mostly that, as i explained in previous posts, i see the whole sequence between february and june 1999 as one big chunk. originally, i thought it was going to be one chapter (lolz) but i quickly realised that these scenes that i’ve had in my head for much, much too long were sort of writing themselves and that that whole chunk was probably going to be in the 30-40k range. so then, it sort of begs the question: where do i split it? and i think that is what i found most difficult here.

at this point, you’ll be pleased to learn that i have a draft for this chunk (including what just came out) at around 23k, which means that next chapter is largely drafted and should come out reasonably soon (more on that at the end). generally, i try to aim for chapters between 8 and 12k, with a tolerance up to 15k, bar for chapter 8 that is almost 20k, but i find that one exception justified, given the contents of the chapter itself. so for this one, once i hit the 23k mark, i sort of had to go back and look around the 12k mark to see where i could split, when it became clear that this had gone waaaay past the desired wordcount.

now, the thing that i should explain here is that to me, in castles, some chapters are “chronological” chapters, and some are “issue” chapters. i think a good way to look at this is to consider chapters 6 and 7. chapter 6 is a chronological chapter where all the action happens one after the other from the death eater attack, to the ministry, to the burrow. all of that happens over a single day, one scene following the other. by contrast, in chapter 7, the way things are written is by “issue,” meaning that the first part of the chapter is dedicated to everything else, and the second half to harry and ginny. this gives the impression of the concentration of topics and immersion when actually, if you pay attention carefully, some of the scenes with ginny - namely the whole couple of weeks harry and her play quidditch and chat, actually happen at the same time, as everything else (giulia’s funeral, christmas, etc.). technically, there is an overlap in chronological terms, but you don’t necessarily notice it because those scenes are not featured chronologically. it’s basically this thing that a lot of you have commented on regarding the use of time in castles. sometimes chapters are written chronologically, and sometimes they are by topic.

now, that’s sort of the root of the problem i had with this chapter because originally, i’d framed it as a topic chapter. i was going to talk about: the trials, then ron and hermione, then mia, then ginny. but, when it came to splitting the chapter, i realised that the 12k mark was after that last scene with mia, which is where i wanted to split, but then that basically meant … no ginny. because i’d reserved everything that was supposed to happen with ginny for after mia.

so, that left me with a bit of conundrum because while i really liked the chapter, it had no ginny in it and i felt like 1) this might piss some people off and 2) it might not make sense narratively. and this is sort of why i was so hesitant to post it for a long time and said on tumblr a few times that i might not post it before finishing 11 & 12 - it felt like it didn’t make sense.

i did my first four editing rounds over the last few weekends and every time, the situation remained the same. then, yesterday, i had scheduled to do what i call “final edits” which is basically reading the chapter + the two previous chapters for “coherence” purposes. and i was like “fuck it, if it feels right to post, i’ll post.” and then, throughout the evening, i re-read chap 8 (rip my heart), 9 and suddenly had a revelation. i was like “okay, this chapter needs ginny because it makes no sense emotionally otherwise.” so then i basically went into the document i had already written with all the ginny stuff (which was all supposed to be in chap 11) and basically took everything that was happening with her in the feb-to-early-march timeframe and weaved it into the chronology of chapter 10 at the eleventh hour (read: the very last edit). those are what you’ve read as the early letters from ginny, all that back and forth, as well as her “dating” (more on that below), etc. it added around 2-3k so the chapter went from circ. 12k to 15k but i ended up being much happier with that and as such, decided to publish.

i do honestly feel like it works - personally - and for now the comments i’ve received were quite positive, so i’m actually glad i went with that structure instead. it does sort of mean that i’m a bit bound to writing 11 & 12 chronologically as well, now, but i actually think it suits the story just as well. ultimately, i’m heading in the same direction and i’m still looking at 30-40k overall, but the split just meant i needed to organise these a bit differently.

.

now, in terms of what happens in this chapter itself:

regarding what i call the “post-war wizarding admin” (meaning: the trials, politics, the aurors, all of that): this was honestly such an absolute blast to write. as you might know if you follow me on here, i am a lawyer myself, so building both a legal and a political system almost from “scratch” is absolutely fascinating to me. i always felt like no one else care but i have received a lot of comments actually telling me that you guys do, too! which is so interesting because it sort of gives me a bit more licence and leeway to spend time exploring that side of the story, maybe more than i would if everyone was like “ugh, this is boring”. (as a funny anecdote the boy i’m seeing at the moment is a huge harry potter nerd and we were talking about the idea of an hbo series the other day; i told him i would love to see a “the west wing” but hp post-war political drama version and he laughed and said: “you and exactly no one else!” well, boy, i beg to differ, lol.) this being said, one of the challenges for me (aside from the frustrating lack of logic or detail jkr put in that side of the world) is to make sure i say enough for you guys to follow my reasonings, but not too much to make it boring. and the funny thing here is: as you may have seen from my profile, i am very much used to writing fanfic for “legal” fandoms. i wrote a lot of fanfic for the good wife, back in the day, and also for a british legal show called “silk”. and the thing is, generally, even if the people who watch these shows are not necessarily lawyers themselves, you can kind of assume a higher basis for a general knowledge of the legal system than, say, an audience that is reading hp. so it’s been interesting to adapt to the potter audience and maybe be a bit more “explain-y” in things like the right to remain silent, hearings, etc. than i would usually be. like, to me, the fact that harry might go to jail if he doesn’t go no comment is glaringly obvious, but it is something that i took time to explain (thanks, Hermione!) because i wanted to be sure an audience who doesn’t know much about law could still understand why this was important. and, tbh, explaining law and the legal system to non lawyers is one of my favourite things to do in life, so this is just a really lovely thing to do. i still leave a couple of legal easter eggs here and there like the reference to lord denning’s cricket metaphors in last chapter, or the “cab-rank rule” in this one but i do explain the main stuff and do hope it’s made sense to you. i think, the overarching idea in this chapter though, and what i wanted to convey, is that whilst they’re heading in the right direction and whilst kingsley is doing the right reforms, the system is so biased to begin with that even if they’re trying, they’re still very far from perfect. and, i really wanted to show the duality with ron and harry v. hermione, where they’re both very much part of the law enforcement system. so, when hermione questions it, she sort of questions them, too? it’s easy to say sirius’ trial was wrong, but what if you’re on the side of the aurors who arrested him? and, ultimately, harry’s a “wizard cop” at heart, not a defence lawyer, so he does believe people who are arrested and tried are guilty. at the same time, he’s also one of the potential accused and sees what that’s like (obviously, on top of sirius’s experience) and a victim. it’s very bizarre spot to be in. and one of the things i wanted to show in this chapter is that for victims, the justice system is very rarely able to provide an answer that “feels” like justice. and, it’s not necessarily a “vengeance” or even death penalty dynamic, it’s also that, as ginny puts it: they go to jail and so what? she still has to get out of bed in the morning and carry on with life. she still would have to even if alecto carrow was sentenced to death. regardless of the sentence, ultimately, the justice system is society’s answer to “bad deeds” but not the victims’. in the muggle world, the crown prosecutes, not the victims themselves. and while seeing someone who

harmed you go to jail is an element of healing, often it’s not the only one. it’s what ginny is saying when she calls it a silver medal. anyway, i digress, lol. obviously, there’s going to be more courtroom drama in the next chapter with alecto, the malfoys, etc. so stay tuned. (additionally not much happened politically in this chapter beyond the explanation of how the wizengamot works - i low-key got inspiration from this fic, but tailored it for what worked in my head, unfortunately, we know very little from jkr on that front - and them voting the blair bill but there should be more to come in chapter 13 onwards. harry’s relationship with kingsley is… interesting, let’s say).

regarding ginny: i think most of what i want to say here is in the chapter. i’ve also explained this at length in the original a/n for chapter but what happens in this chapter, to me, is the logical continuation of her journey. it’s painful and sad but she’s been through very difficult things. i think that like i explained in the original a/n for chap 8, i was very intent on showing the journey of someone who isn’t a “typical” victim of sa. frustratingly, a lot of portrayals of sexual assault survivors in fiction is geared towards the man-in-the-balaclava random attack stereotype, who lives in fear, can’t have sex ever again, etc. and whilst that is the experience of some survivors, that is not the experience of everyone. she is in complete denial of what happened to her, and harry is starting to make sense of that (more in next chapter *wink*). she is also trying to regain control of herself and her body through sex itself, but although consensual, sleeping with these guys isn’t actually making her happy. she uses sex and crudeness as a weapon against those who care about her. harry sort of picks up on the fact that what she really wants is for him to go: ‘alright, i’m out,’ which would prove the voice in her head that says she ‘fucked’ a death eater and is therefore worthless. since the very beginning, she’s been trying to say that he should “hate” her and “stop talking” to her because of what she did and the fact that he’s not is basically disproving her theory. additionally, as this is set in the late-90s, i thought it’d be interesting to touch on the “press” side of that. the 90s/00s in the uk was a very brutal era in the tabloid press was breaking into people’s bins, listening to their voice messages, committing incredible breaches of privacy, and where a lot of young women in the public eye were relentlessly stalked by paparazzi in everything they did. this attitude sort of worsened their own “bad habits” leading them to party more, take more drugs, etc. in order to get over the pressure. lily allen and amy winehouse (quite tragically for the latter) are good examples of that. and, i think, for ginny, there is an element of: ‘well, given what i did and the fact that all these people are calling me a slut, i might as well act like one.’ i think it really fits into her character and that sort of brashness you see back in book five/six when she almost teases her brothers with how many boys she’s seeing. it’s very much a fuck-you, gryffindor move, and that was also one of the angles i wanted to explore.

regarding mia: i just had a comment on ff that said “you had to make mia more tangible, didn’t you?” which really made me laugh because yeah, of course. this is sort of a funny one though because mia’s backstory has been in my head from the very start. i’ve talked about it before but basically, i had all this stuff planned about mia to appear in chaps 4/5 but then giulia stole mia’s thunder and screen time, so i had to take out her backstory. i wasn’t really sure what i was going to do with it (if anything) for a while but now, it sort of fits in nicely with the mia v. ginny storyline, and why she is good for harry for now, but not forever. more on that next chapter haha.

regarding Ron & Hermione: my babies are getting married! i’m so happy. and harry’s best man (lol). this being said, again, building on last chapter - i think harry had sort of this vision of ron & hermione thinking that everything was alright for them and that he was the only one with problems and once more, reality punches him in the face because well, hermione’s not doing that great, is she? ultimately, i have so much head canon about hermione, her parents, her relationship with ron & harry, etc. that i will write a fic about it at some point, just not now. for now, she gets a few scenes with harry and omg they’re the ultimate brother/sister dynamic i love them so much.

alright, i think that’s all for now. as i said earlier, i do already have a lot of material written for the next chapter so it shouldn’t take too long for me to finish it but we shall see. it’s funny cause i was sort of planning to write something else over christmas break (like that hermione fic mentioned above) but now i really have castles in my head so i might just keep going? we shall see. anyway, again, a very happy christmas to all of yous and thank you so, so much for all of your kind words on this chapter so far, you guys are amazing! as always, if you have any other questions/things you want me to talk about, let me know!

love x,

p.

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