#the way I was about to brag about our club name by just name dropping my school which would then make it so easy to find me holy shit my
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
i came home, panicked about one thing, and my toilet was leaking. bathroom floor is covered in water and brown particles. oddly, this has not improved my mood
#i just want to be a child again. i understand being a child was also miserable I am not glorifying my childhood#i was in pain and sad and lonely#BUT I WAS SAFE AND CARED FOR AND I NEVER QUESTIONED THAT no matter how much pain I was in#what I wouldn’t give for everything to hurt because I was so overstimulated by school and being bullied#being a kid had such clear cause and effect. being an adult is just…I am guilty and I want to cry everytime I think about the fact that I’m#here. i miss something that never existed and I’m the only one who is trying to remember a person who never existed but is important to me#(cause it’s me—I’m the only one who cares about preserving my childhood. my parents don’t give a damn. they were so busy surviving they#don’t remember it or care either)#why the fuck am I getting emails about a pizza party we didn’t ask for were an actual club now we don’t need your planned events fuck off#the way I was about to brag about our club name by just name dropping my school which would then make it so easy to find me holy shit my#internet safety is getting lax 🙈#boom’s bad days#omg I just got reccommended ‘boom blogs high’ what if I got high I would feel so much better#i keep just coping sober cause like. not relying on substances. but I don’t actually have skills rn to improve my issues so like. substances#are more helpful tbh 🙈
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
HELLOOOOO!!!
I'm freaking out this is my first post, like the first one shot I post and write about AIB and Chishiya.
I really hope you all like it, please please please tell me what you think about it and whatever you want to tell me.
It's long (4444 words), I know, but I hate small things because I get upset. It's very close to the story and it doesn't have lot's of changes, I wanted to try first to write about something I know. In the future I will write more original and new stuff. Also, I wanted to get used to the universe and to the characters first.
HAVE A NICE READ 💚
“THIS WAY TO THE GAME ARENA”
The sign flashes all around the city. I slowly walk towards the Toei Sendagaya block apartment, focused on the cube in my hands. Due to having no electricity, I’ve gotten used to pick random things from stores to entertain myself.
It’s still shocking to feel the city so silent and calm, and at the same time it feels terrifying. One would think that being that people die every day, the streets would be forgiving. You can’t even lower your guard now. Even since the first day, I’ve liked walking around the streets, checking out shops and random apartments. I kinda feel powerful, but it’s something that deep inside I know it’s just fake and limited. And I’m not giving up, but at least I’m going to enjoy now that I can, until ‘they’ decide that I’m not needed around anymore.
The tall complex shines between the bushes and buildings, its lights on every floor lighted on. I place myself a few meters hidden behind the stairs leading to the central lobby. From there, I sit and watch people climb the stairs. A couple of them look pretty scared and lost, showing signs of this being their first game. The rest all look shaken up but used to this. When it looks like no one else will come, I get up and get to the crowd around the phones.
There’s thirteen people waiting and all of them look at me while I pick the phone from the table. When the facial recognition is finished I can see that there’s only a few seconds left for the game to start. Almost didn’t make it. Would have been stupid to die because I was daydreaming.
‘Move aside’ I say to Chishiya, elbowing him after not having a response. He looks at me annoyed and slips off his earphones. He finally moves to let me place my back at the wall and get my hair in a bun.
“REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THERE ARE A TOTAL OF 14 PARTICIPANTS. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”
It’s so easy to point out who the newcomers are and the ones that are sick of playing. You can also name who’s going to be willing to put themselves first and who’s going to scary run the whole game.
I start rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt up when a boy with a cap starts talking to some guys. They look lost, but not new to this. Might be the first week here. I eye them from my spot, not saying a thing but listening to the whole exchange.
“Excuse me, do you know what this is?” He asks a black haired boy. Honestly, he looks a mess, like he has just gotten up from bed and hasn't changed in a few days. “I ended up here and I have no idea what’s going on”.
“It’s a game” He answers. At the same time, the blonde man next to him, probably his friend, tells him to stop it. I chuckle and cover it up with a cough, earning myself a glare from both Chishiya and Aguni. I might be prone to get in trouble with people and they won’t be happy if I screw a game up. Better be quiet.
The blonde guy whispers to his friend and I try to pick something up from the conversation. Not get close to the new ones and something else.
“DIFFICULTY: FIVE OF SPADES”
The card flashes on our phones, telling us the kind of game and the level of difficulty. I was so curious about the card when I got to my first game, I didn’t know what it meant and what I was supposed to do with it. I’m a bit ashamed to admit that I admire the cleverness behind the rules and the method of the games. It’s the work of both a psycho and a genius.
A sporty girl starts to stretch just after the card shows, so she must know what it means. She’s calm and collected and I bet she’s willing to put all of us on the killing zone before she goes down. We could be friends, I think.
I hear a sigh next to me and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya rolling his eyes. He doesn’t exactly hate physical games, but they sometimes mean having to run or climb and he’s not a fan of working out. And, even though he won’t admit it, he doesn’t like having his white hoodie dirty. Not going to judge, I don’t love spades games either, but I will choose them over the hearts ones a million times.
I get down to tie my shoes tighter just in case. I would hate tripping like the clown I really am in front of all these people. Some guy in a hat starts explaining to the two friends from before what it means a spades game. Club games are hard if there are more newcomers than experienced people. I mean, if it's a game where team work means everything, you bet you prefer working with someone who knows the way around the games. Diamond ones are a bit weird: being clever will get you through them, but sometimes the answer is so straightforward that you get lost looking for the catch. Heart games are the worst. They will kill you even if you survive, and pray that you don’t get to play with a friend or someone you know.
“GAME: A GAME OF TAG.”
“RULE: RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.”
“CLEAR CONDITION: DISCOVER THE SAFEZONE HIDDEN IN ONE OF THE BUILDING ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT. YOU CLEAR THE GAME WHEN THIS OBJECTIVE IS FULFILLED.”
“TIME LIMIT: 20 MINUTES.”
“AFTER 20 MINUTES HAS PASSED, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.”
I turn around to face Chishiya, grinning like a mad girl. He doesn’t even flinch when he stops me from talking. “No, I’m not racing you to the top.”
“But…” I sigh and watch as everyone starts running to the stairs like lost puppies. “You are so mean”. I punch him in the shoulder and cross my arms, walking towards the lift. No need running seven floors up and wasting energy if I’m not even going to be able to brag about having won a race.
Chishiya follows closely behind, probably guessing I’m going to try and leave him there.
“TWO MINUTES BEFORE THE GAME STARTS.”
We get inside the lift and silently wait until we get to the seventh floor. It’s been a long time since I used one, not everyday you get to play in a building apartment. Feels nice, and like we’re back to normal.
Once we get to the top, we both choose a position that lets us have a good look at the whole complex. He goes to one wing while I leave for the other one. No point leaving a flank unseen. I take my cube out and restart it, keeping an eye on the people looking around scattered through the floors. I don’t get why someone would choose saying in the lower ground when a tagger is supposed to chase you through the whole building. Dude, that’s the most critical place to start.
“Hey, don’t get distracted with those games of yours.”
“Don’t be mean, Chishiya. You know I’m paying attention.” Anyway, once I finish the cube, I keep it in my pocket and rest my arms on the banister.
Aguni and his new friend get to the seventh floor and both of us wave towards him. Like always, he completely ignores us and keeps walking towards another high point.
“That’s nasty” Chishiya says and I nod along. Aguni is always so serious during games, it’s boring.
“I place my bet on those two guys and the sporty girl surviving”. I firmly say. They look like they will make it, but not without having a rough time.
He has the audacity to snort and laugh at me and I look at him surprised. “You’re joking. Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual. Just look at them, they don’t know shit about what to do”.
“Were you this calm in your first games? Don’t be mean, they are trying their best. No one wants to die.”
“But, where you that stupid?” He says while pointing to a couple of girls on the second floor who are touching their phones desperately. “I’m not saying you gotta be a genius from the start, but if you don’t collect yourself quickly, you are already dead.”
“Well, my majesty, not all of us are like you, and some people need a little more time, and a little more help.”
Chishiya looks at me and, as if I had imagined, a caring and sorry look crosses his eyes. He probably remembers the first time he saw me get through the games and how I completely lost it once. It wasn’t easy.
“THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.”
He nudges my arm with his elbow and I look at him.
“THE TIME LIMIT IS 20 MINUTES.”
“Hey” He says with a soft voice.
“GAME START.”
“Don’t die this time.”
“Wasn't planning to.”
“THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.”
As if we all had planned it, the whole complex goes silent, trying to locate this said tagger. A trumpet goes off and everyone looks scared, ready to bolt to wherever they can.
The sound of the lift’s doors can be heard from our position, so the tagger is probably on the sixth or fifth floor.
Not a penny drop can be heard. Not a breath.
Some people start walking and try to open doors. The rest are all watching closely until something happens.
And it does.
Gunshots run through the dense air that surrounds us. I try to see where they come from and I finally catch sight of the tagger. Probably a man, judging for the height, with a horse head and a really mean gun. He’s on the sixth floor, just in front of the stairs.
I point at him and nudge Chishiya, but I already know that he has seen him.
There’s now thirteen of us.
And then shots are fired again and we can see the two friends and the one with the hat running down the stairs, away from the tagger.
“Told you, they are gonna get killed.” Chishiya says with a smirk.
“Oh shut up, this is not a TV show we are talking about. And I have faith in them”.
They split up on the third floor, the hat man keeps going down while the other two try to hide in the hallway. Not long after, on the ground floor that the tagger chases and shots the first one and finds another man freaking out. I don’t know if it’s better that he died because he went off the game zone instead of being shot by the tagger. Anyway, he’s also dead. And that makes three dead players.
Eleven participants left.
“See, they are smart. At least the cute one”. I say smiling.
Chishiya looks at me and raises an eyebrow, silently questioning just what I said.
“What? It’s not like I’m lying; he is cute, and smart.” I laugh and wink at him, cutting eye contact with him. If we are going to have an awkward moment, please don’t be while we are playing for our lives.
The killing spree of the tagger continues with the pretty and lost two girls. They sure are on their first game, because they look so freaking scared and unprepared. I mean, who would have come with heels and handbags. I scoff and shake my head watching how one of them falls dead and the other one wastes an incredible opportunity of getting away while the tagger reloads. Well, not all of us are strong enough to leave our friend and not panic at the same time. Shame she has to die, anyway.
So now we are nine players still alive.
Looks like everything’s gone silent again, until shouts break the silence and we all look for the source. It’s the cute guy and I laugh when I understand what he’s saying.
“Everyone! The tagger is currently at the second level of the central area! The tagger has bad vision because of his mask! Let’s inform each other of the tagger’s location and search for the safezone together!”
“Oh my god, did he seriously turn a spades game into a club’s one?” I laugh again and Chishiya scoffs under his hood. “I want to be best friends with him”.
“Don’t be stupid.” Chishiya says. We move a bit to see where they are going now that they are all running. “It’s a good idea, not going to lie, but no one will answer him.”
He mutters something else, but I don’t really catch it. I think I saw the tagger doubt his step when he heard the guy shouting, but he definitely looks annoyed when the sporty girl shouts back.
“The tagger is moving from the fourth level of the central area! Anyone nearby, run!”
I celebrate and raise my hands, clapping and laughing in Chishiya’s face. He looks surprised and tells me to shut it.
The girl runs from the tagger and finds an elderly woman in the hallway. With the tagger on their back, they are probably going to get killed. I grip the banister and hold my breath. She seems friendly and clever, I’m internally rooting for her.
Suddenly she jumps off the balcony and starts climbing the pipes up to the next floor. The other woman dies behind her, and the tagger tries to catch the girl but fails.
“She’s pretty good.” Chishiya mutters. “You just wish you could do that. It’s called envy”.
“As if you could do that too. You are just as weak as me.”
“Hey! Don’t throw me in the same casket!”
“EIGHT MINUTES UNTIL THE GAME ENDS.”
“THERE ARE CURRENTLY EIGHT SURVIVORS.”
Already? We should start moving.
I look at Chishiya under my hair and he frowns at something. I follow his gaze and see the tagger looking at the cap boy from an upside floor. What’s shocking it’s him starting to shoot from there. He has been killing just people he casually finds while walking around, not shooting from that distance.
The boy goes down, but looks unharmed. The two friends are on the same floor and get to him, running away from the door he was trying to open.
Not bothering to ask Chishiya if he got that, I start jumping on the place and keep my phone in my pockets. He slides off the hood and shoves me towards the stairs.
“Shall we, ma’am?”
“THERE ARE FIVE MINUTES REMAINING.”
From the corner of my eye I catch Aguni intercepting the boys and I make a face. It doesn’t always go well when he does that, he tends to let them die in order to have his way. The sporty girl stops to talk to them and she starts jumping from floor to floor.
“Do you think someone’s going to get it too?” I ask out loud. Chishiya shrugs and keeps on walking. I tsk and stay behind him when we get to the hallway. I turn around and watch my back, even though I heard a fight somewhere near. Probably Aguni, who are we kidding.
Just when we are arriving at the safezone apartment, the cute boy appears from the other side.
“Cute boy! I’m glad you realized it!” I happily say without thinking. I mouth a silent sorry when he looks at me a bit perplexed. Chishiya elbows me, hard, and I whine a bit. That’s mean.
He picks the doorknob first, but doesn’t open it. The three of us are watching closely, and honestly I’m a bit nervous about the time. I don’t like risking it as much as Chishiya.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” he asks.
The boy answers a couple of seconds after, lost in his thoughts “Why did the tagger chase us? He could have just waited here.”
He is onto something. Now, I’m not liking this at all.
“Seems like there’s something else we don’t know.” Chishiya says, keeping his calm exterior. He’s going to use this poor boy in case he has any doubt of a risk. “However,” he adds, taking his phone out “if you don’t open it…”
There are three minutes left.
Sweat starts running down my back, making me shiver and hold my breath while I watch the boy start turning the doorknob. All our phones beep announcing the time left until we all die with the bomb.
Slowly, he opens the door with caution. We all walk inside, in silence and with darkness surrounding us. It 's empty. No furniture, neither personal objects nor some leftovers of someone’s life. A few steps in we notice a door at the end of the room and we all walk towards it.
It’s not until we are too far inside that another tagger walks out behind the door.
“Look out!” the boy screams and pushes us out of the shot range.
Gunshots fly around the apartment and I duck behind the bathroom door. Chishiya uses the taser and the tagger goes down, but recovers quickly and starts shooting again. I scream when a bullet gazes at my arm. It fucking hurts, but at least the bullet didn’t got me completely.
I can hear the apartment door being shut and the other door at the end closing too. They must have gotten through them. I hope they aren’t harmed.
I wait, trying not to make any sound in case the tagger comes to finish me off. I search through the room, but nothing seems lethal enough to use like a weapon. I hate bringing weapons to games, I don’t really want to kill anyone if I can help it.
Gunshots are fired and I cover myself up, even though they are not directed towards me. Fighting blade weapons? I’m okay with that. Fighting people? Not against it. But, I have nothing towards a gun. I mean, it can take me from a long distance! No point.
“Everyone! The safezone is in apartment 406! It’s impossible to clear the game alone! We need two people to do this!”
Are you kidding? This is so mean. What if you were the only survivor? Not fair, not at all.
Well, it seems like I should get moving and try to do something useful in this game. I haven’t done shit, now that I think about it.
Slowly, I open the door just in time to see the tagger shoot the door and break the safelock. I take small steps following it, ready to throw myself to placate it. Just when the gun is going up I jump and kick the tagger in the knee, managing to bring it to the floor.
I hear a scream coming from the tagger and a lady cursing from behind the mask. She starts shooting and I scream trying to cover myself without being hit. The guy bolts and tries to help me get her off the gun, but she keeps fighting like a mad person.
We both go down before she gets us with the bullets and I catch a glimpse of Chishiya at the door, trying to help but having to cover himself because of the lost shots.
The phones all inform us of the ten seconds remaining at the same time that the sporty girl jumps through the glass of the balcony. The tagger kicks me and gets the gun pointing at my face and I panic just a bit before I push back. The other guy tries to help me, but with no help.
“Hey!” Chishiya shouts.
I’m on the floor fighting the tagger with the gun under my chin, trying to get it off my face, but I see him throwing the taser to the girl and she quickly gets the tagger down.
I let out a sigh before I heard the time almost coming to an end. My eyes search for him and we lock our gazes. I can feel the breath we are both holding and the silent words running through our minds. My fingers clench and I swallow, accepting death like a forgotten friend, saying goodbye with a blink.
But, just like that, with a blink, it all finishes. The buttons are pressed on the last second and we all hear the beeps from our phones.
“GAME CLEAR.”
“CONGRATULATIONS.”
In that same moment, the tagger gets the mask off and we can see an old lady crying looking at us. The collar in her neck starts beeping faster and faster and I scramble to get away from her. Chishiya grabs both my arms and I scream at the touch in the bullet gaze from before, but he doesn’t let go and gets me away at the same time that the collar explodes, killing the lady.
My whole back is covered in blood and I roughly grab Chishiya’s hoodie. I don’t want to look at her and see what we did, even though it was unintended. She was also playing, and she died because we won.
Chishiya and I are left in the room with the dead tagger, and he grips my hand and makes me let go of him. He starts checking the pockets of the lady and gets something out, but I don’t register exactly what.
I get out of the apartment to breathe. I hate this part where we really think about what went down here. Lots of people died, and we got a few days to live just to have to risk it again in the next game. Could have we saved someone? Not really, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easier anyway.
“I’m Arisu.” Someone says beside me. I turn and the cute boy is there, watching me from a distance. “I wanted to thank you, for risking yourself back there. We are alive thanks to all of you.” He sticks out his hand to me and waits.
I’m speechless. No one has thanked me like this in any game. I didn’t really do a thing, but he’s thanking me. I should be the one doing it, he cooperated with the other girl and they stopped the bomb. We could have died there.
I let out a small laugh and shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisu. And thanks to you, you did the dirty work inside the room.”
I look back inside and watch Chishiya stick the paper in his hoodie and walk towards us.
“I look forward to meeting you somewhere else, hopefully not dead in a game. Be careful and enjoy the warm water in the ocean now that we are all alone in the city.”
With a wink, I walk out of the apartment building with Chishiya not too far behind. I think he heard me talking to Arisu, but he doesn’t comment on it.
We walk, and we walk, and we walk. Neither of us likes to go back to the Beach in the cars, so we always take a stroll through the streets, enjoying the silence and the stars shining above us.
“Does it hurt?” he asks.
“Mmh?” I look at him questioning and he nods to my bleeding arm. “Oh, yes, like a bitch. But I’ll have to wait until we get there.”
He tsks and grabs my arm, leading us to a pharmacy around the corner. I don’t say anything, knowing he will shut me up and will only be a waste of time. We get inside and he starts looking for some disinfectant and bandages.
He knows his stuff. I was surprised at first to discover he knows his way around the medical grounds; and I’m glad he does. It doesn't hurt having someone nearby capable of dealing with nasty wounds.
He silently works and I watch him closely. He’s handsome. And he knows it, that’s why he smirks feeling my gaze on his face. I trace his features taking my time. His eyes are the most scary thing I’ve ever met. They hold so much knowledge and feelings. I always feel like he could take me apart just with his eyes. He mostly covers his emotions, so even though you search for micro expressions, you will come empty handed almost always.
I bring my free hand up and run my fingers through his hair. I love it, it’s so smooth and soft. And the fact that he always wears white to match his hair makes me smile like an idiot.
Chishiya clears his throat and starts covering up the wound. My hand drops and rests in his arm, basking in the heat he’s making.
Once he’s done, he brings down my sleeves and looks me in the eye, silently checking if I’m okay. I nod and take his hand, quickly gripping and, just as fast, letting go. I can hear him sigh behind me, and he follows behind.
“You know, I’m glad I met you here, but I would have prefered meeting you in the real world.”
“Why?”
“Because I know I will be safer here with you, but I also know the probability of us having a happy ending is minimal while we are here.”
“You are not wrong.” A couple of minutes goes by until he adds: “But that doesn’t mean you can’t try and make the most of it while you are alive. It will hurt more, but at this point, who cares?”
I let out a breathy laugh and turn around to hug him. Hard. He stops and lets me hug him, finally giving in and hugging me back. I hide my face in his neck, breathing deep and closing my eyes. I can feel his pulse and his chin coming down on my head, his hand running through my back.
“You are an idiot.”
“And you are mean. Deal with it.”
I swear I can feel his lips kissing the top of my head, but it’s so fast I can’t be sure. He starts walking again and I run to catch him before I lose him.
We may have a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. We are there for each other, not sure of what to do, what to give, what to take. But we do not give up. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and thankful that I have someone looking out for me.
I smile all the way to the Beach.
#chishiya#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya x reader#aib#alice in borderland#fic#oneshot#reader insert#fanfic#arisu
1K notes
·
View notes
Photo
Record Mirror, 1st August 1981
transcription under the cut
photo and transcription retrieved from sacreddm.net on the wayback machine
There’s something very unusual about these lads. Not just the funny threads and lop-sided haircuts. It’s those faces: Stern, well-scrubbed, shiny, angelic, even. More like cherubs than boys in a band. Or choirboys.
“Andy and Vince both used to sing in church,” Martin reveals mischievously, “but then the devil got them. Very evil, the devil, you know,” he continues, much to his colleagues’ embarrassment.
But the best is yet to come. Depeche Mode is not the only combo Messrs Fletcher and Clarke have ever had in common. Nor their respective Christian church choirs. No, for five years they both played in the Boys’ Brigade!
Now in case you’re thinking you’ve never seen members of this worthy organisation marching up your high street doodling about on synthesisers, it ought to be pointed out that they haven’t always relied on these fascinating machines.
For the first half of their 14 month existence it was boring old guitar, bass and keys until one day Martin brought along a VC23 or something. “It didn’t take long for the others to follow suit. They’re a lot easier to lean to play from scratch than most other instruments,” the third twiddler admits.
“And portable too,” Dave (silicon) chips in. “We can fit all our gear into a few suitcases and drop ‘em into the boot of the car. No need for amplifiers, back-lines or anything.”
Dave Gahan was the last member to join the group. This comes as no surprise whatsoever since he’s most certainly the odd man out. Whereas the others tend to be guarded and reserved, the singer displays the kind of confidence you’d expect from someone who virtually talked his way into the band.
“Dave started jamming with us in rehearsals one day, so we asked him to join,” Martin recalls. “It wasn’t as if he was a total stranger. In fact we’ve all known each other since schooldays. It’s much better that way. You can’t possibly get on as well with newcomers who’ve been fixed up from adverts in the music press,” he declared baldly.
Must be more of a crack appearing on TOTP when you’re old pals. What do your mums think? Are they proud of their little boys?
“I try not to tell mine much,” the shy chap replies, “otherwise my mum just goes round bragging it to the butcher, the greengrocer… everybody!”
Parental fringe benefit, squire. Any more TV lined up?
“Yeah, we’re on ‘20th Century Box’, too. They’re doing a programme about the music scene round Basildon which is where we’re from.”
Now Basildon might not be renowned as a rock’n’roll epicentre but there’s a club where the quartet started attracting a lot of attention. Crocs is its name and Depeche Mode soon became the focal point of its burgeoning futurist knees-ups.
“We were the first band to play there,” claims Dave. “The resident DJ, Rusty Egan, liked us and so we then got a spot on one of the Thursday nights he was running at the Venue. Rusty’s my hero,” he confides.
Although still holding the affable innovator in high esteem, it is with a rather more low profile entrepreneur that Depeche Mode have decided to entrust their affairs. Daniel Miller, who charmed half a hemisphere (not to mention Grace Jones) with ‘Warm Leatherette’ owns their present record label, Mute, and the boys seem to want to keep it that way.
Mute might only be an indie – and one that can’t pay for its own photo-sessions – but Miller’s use of independent record pluggers makes it a match for the international companies, notwithstanding their heavy sales forces and so on.
Proof of the pudding is present hit ‘New Life’ charting the week it was released before amassing sales currently approaching 200,000. Although not furnished with the title, Miller is to all intents and purposes the band’s manager and is currently producing their debut album which, with expert timing, should be in the (right) shops by the end of next month.
“It’ll mainly consist of the songs we’ve been playing since we started plus a few new ones. No, I’m not going to give away the title or what the next single will be… Actually, we don’t know ourselves yet.”
A likely story. How about some dates? Any megatours in mind? I hear you’ve just got a deal with the same agents who book gigs for David Bowie and Adam & The Ants.
“We’re not like those rock’n’roll bands that play night after night. Y’know, I mean it’s just not us, really.”
This is true but what about the little robots all over the country who have put you where you are today. Don’t they deserve a live shot of the DPs?
“We’ll be playing some dates,” he concedes, “including some major European capitals,” adds Miller, sounding for all the world like the President of a multinational conglomerate.
A far cry from the choir, eh Martin?
“Oh, you get some good singing in church,” he replies, “why do you think I go?”
Hmmm, sounds like another A&R matter for Mute. On yer bike, Daniel.
#depeche mode#dave gahan#martin gore#andy fletcher#vince clarke#s&s era#s&s photoshoot#record mirror magazine#b&w#black and white checkered suit#by simon fowler
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Against All Odds
Roswell New Mexico Coda 03x03
Isobel sighed - half in relief and half in frustration - as she parked her car by Michael’s truck. Her brother was unsurprisingly sitting by his fire pit, but he seemed calmer than he had at the drive in.
Michael rolled his eyes when she got out of the car and approached him. “I’m pretty sure I’m safe here, Iz.”
“There was a fire at the church.” Isobel took a seat by him. “We’re back to square one.”
Michael groaned, hanging his head over the back of his chair. “Well, the sunflowers are from me, I guess. So it’s someone I’d be willing to pay respects to.”
“I thought you were convinced it was you.”
“…”. Michael sat up, keeping his gaze on the fire. “Well, Alex doesn’t think so.”
“You talked to Alex?” Isobel asked. Michael shrugged. “So you run away from Max and me - twice I might add-“
“I didn’t run-“”
“You never come to us for help, and trying to help you in anyway is a sure way to start an argument-“
“I don’t need charity-“
“But you will go straight to Alex Manes and tell him everything?”
“…if I was gonna kick it, I kinda wanted to see him at least once.” Michael explained.
Isobel frowned. The giddy feelings Michael had allowed to seep through their shared connection before Alex returned had been absent. She thought perhaps he’d simply been too busy helping her save Max to say anything about their reunion but this didn’t really sound like that at all. “What happened?”
“Alex says if I was the one dead he’d… react differently.” A small flicker of hope again, but nowhere near as substantial.
“So, Alex said your death would affect him deeply. Sounds like a pretty enormous declaration to me.”
“…yeah.”
“So why aren’t you with him? Oh, shit, is he here?” She glanced towards his trailer.
“What? No!”
“Well, I don’t get it. What happened to all those “I think it’s our time” vibes-”
“He’s seeing someone else.” Michael snapped.
Isobel froze at his words. “Oh…”
Michael sighed. “Yeah, so not our time. Okay?”
“But I mean, if he’s saying you dying would affect him so much, how serious could he be about the other guy?” She couldn’t help but point out. Honestly, she may have to do a little digging herself. She wasn’t above being a manipulative bitch if either of her brothers’ happiness was on the line.
“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly interrupt their reunion kiss to ask how serious their relationship was.” Michael responded sarcastically.
Isobel winced. She imagined that hadn’t been a great thing to witness. “Maybe it’s not that serious?”
“Serious enough to let him know when he’d be back in town.”
“Yeah, but he also told you when he’d be back in town.”
“Alex has better options than a junkyard mechanic in Roswell with a criminal record. I can’t exactly fault him for choosing them.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were going to date Alex Manes, not a member of my Mom’s yoga club.” Isobel quipped. “Is he really that interested in boyfriend bragging rights?”
“He’s a decorated war hero. Can’t exactly go on dates with a criminal.”
“Didn’t seem to have a problem asking you to use your criminal talents to break into a top secret alien facility though.” Isobel crossed her arms. “Wait, is this why you cleaned up your act this past year? For Alex Manes?”
“Look, don’t we have a murder to solve? My non-existent relationship can wait.”
“That’s not a no.”
“There were a lot of reasons, Iz. Knowing about our moms. Sanders. Having you, me and Max back to how we used to be. And, yeah, maybe some small piece of me thought it might impress Alex. Most of which has all been turned on its head, so… can we please focus on the murder now?”
“Do I at least get a name?”
“Isn’t the point that we don’t know the name?”
“I mean the name of who Alex Manes is seeing that you apparently think he can brag about to his yoga club?”
“He doesn’t do yoga.”
“Irrelevant.”
“If I tell you, will you finally drop the subject?”
“Deal.”
“Forrest Long.”
“A Long? Are you serious?”
“Dropping the subject, remember?”
“Come on, you can’t expect me to not say something about that.”
“As much as it pains me to say it, Forrest isn’t a bad guy. Black sheep of his family. Guess he and Alex have that in common.”
If she was already concocting a list of all the gossip mongers in town she knew who might know something about Forrest Long, Michael need never be the wiser. “Gregory isn’t so bad.”
“Please tell me you two never-“
“No. Just an observation.”
“Uh-huh. So are you still seeing the bartender?”
“We aren’t serious. I don’t think I can be serious about someone who doesn’t know about us. Our collective history on that isn’t so good.” Isobel let her eyes rest on the fire - she didn’t like thinking about how that applied to her own past. To Noah and how he’d never truly been unaware. How their entire relationship had been nothing but lies.
“I hate the idea we cover another murder. Thought we were done with lies…”
Isobel frowned, watching the flames. “What if I’m not crying cuz of who it is, but how they died?”
“Meaning?”
“What if it’s cuz we’re to blame? What if it’s like Noah and Rosa and-”
“Hey, that’s not gonna happen.” Michael cut her off. “The only potential evil alien around here is in a cage in the desert and he’s staying there. Nobody’s making us do anything ever again, okay?”
“Promise?” Her smile felt shaky even to herself.
“Promise.” Michael didn’t hesitate.
End
Author’s Notes: *sideeyes Jones* If you dare make Isobel go through that again…
I don’t think they’ll actually do mind control again. Though it is one possible explanation for bringing up Noah at the funeral in the vision.
Mostly this was an excuse for Isobel and Michael interaction. Cuz Isobel may live to torment her brothers, but their happiness really is important to her. There is a touch of classism with the way every character who is not named Liz Ortecho treats Michael during the course of the series, some more than others. Isobel, however, has definitely gotten better about it since the first season. So I can definitely hear her reacting to the notion that Michael wasn’t “good enough” boyfriend material defensively. Because despite her own “stepford housewife” Roswell persona, she never allowed it to interfere with having Michael in her life - even when his behavior was at its worst. And I can totally see her social media stalking poor Forrest and being like - yeah, no. My brother is way better. (Sorry, Forrest.)
While I’m pretty sure Alex has long forgotten the words that started the communication errors between Michael and him, I think a part of Michael is still very hooked on that “I want to be with you, but not if you’re wasting your life.” He still feels at some level that who he is isn’t “good enough” and that’s probably why he was willing to take such a huge step back when he realized Alex was interested in Forrest. He needed to prove he could be “good enough” first. And I need Alex to smack him over the head with the fact that he stopped caring about that shit somewhere around Caulfield.
Also, the fact that the only person Michael feels safe going to when things are bad is Alex? That says things. He’s had moments with other characters but in each instance they’ve come to him. The only person Michael willingly goes to is Alex. He’s the only person he feels truly safe asking things out of. The only one he allows himself to shed that “but if I owe them, that’s dangerous” mindset with. And thinking about that is truly heartrending.
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
herding cats
becoming nekoma's manager
You really didn’t want to be here. Here being Tokyo, here being Nerima ward and, most importantly, here being the hallway of your new school. The uniform is itchy and you’re being dragged along by some student council member because, apparently, first years can’t be trusted to walk around themselves.
He was nice enough, though he certainly seemed more excited to show you around when he got a look at you. Then he got more excited when he found out your mom’s occupation was what brought you to Nekoma High halfway through your first-year. “So, what’s it like having a famous mom?”
Your eyes darted to the side instinctively. What kind of question is that? How are you supposed to answer? Like having a mom except you get asked things like that. “Uh, fine. She’s really not that cool.” Especially for moving you so late into the school year because her animation studio decided working distantly wasn’t working. “I get spoilers sometimes.” It’s exactly what he wants to hear.
You can hear the next question already, so you cut him off before he gets a chance to ask about the upcoming episode of the anime your mother was working on. “Ah, it seems we made it to the classroom. Thank you for helping me, Senpai.” You bow half heartedly and knock on the door before he gets a chance to respond.
This is exactly what you told your mother would happen. Even as you introduce yourself to the class, there’s a few people who instantly recognize your last name. Those students turn to whisper or pass notes and you know by lunch, you’ll be crowded by people hoping to become your friend purely for bragging rights. The teacher seems tuned to your inner angst, as she gracefully directs you to a seat in the back of the class, where you can watch instead of be watched.
The first subject of your people-watching is next to you - the one person who did not look up as you introduced yourself. A curtain of dark hair kept you from seeing any details of his face (and you can only tell it’s a he because of the uniform). What you can see is the screen of his handheld console and the bright features of one of your favorite games.
Which is why, during break, instead of making eye contact with any of the students striving to talk to you, you turn to him to complain about the latest update.
congrats, you befriended a wild kenma!
he’s the first person you’ve met in a while who doesn’t care about what your mom does, or how much money you have
he literally only cares about your ability to hard carry a team through a dungeon
a few weeks go by, with you basically just coming to school, talking to Kenma, and going home
until the student counselor comes to you and says you have to join a club
even though it’s the end of the year - some policy to ensure you have a club going into next year
“I hate this,” your complaint comes out severely muffled thanks to how you buried your face into folded arms. Kenma gives a noncommittal hum.
“Are you going to finish that?”
You glare at him but still shove the snack closer to his desk. One hand breaks away from his controller to snatch it, before it gets glued back to his PSP. “I’m serious - if one more club tries recruiting me, I’ll scream.”
He answers, sparing a side-glance towards you. The only hint he actually is listening. “Just warn me when that happens.” You groan and go back to your folded arms. It’s been hard to make friends despite people seeming desperate to be your friend. Well, that’s the problem, you think. You don’t particularly want friends who are planning what questions to ask before even greeting you, you want friends like Kenma who can treat you like a normal person.
Minutes before break ends, the president of the Anime Club approaches for the third time this week. “Hello, (l/n)-san. Have you thought any more about joining our club?”
You feel bad for the instinctive grimace. Really, she’s quite nice. It’s just an anime club is the last place you wish to be. Before you can find another polite way to let her down, Kenma interrupts. “Sorry, Sato-san. (y/n) is joining the volleyball club.”
“I am?” You can’t help but question. He shoots you a look, slighting narrowing his eyes.
“She’ll be meeting the captain at today’s practice.”
Sato-san tilts her head suspiciously but doesn’t press. “I hope to still see you around, (l/n)-san,” she says before flouncing off. You take a moment to reorient yourself.
“I am?”
Kenma sighs, saving his game and shoving the console into his bag. “Yeah, you are. Don’t worry, Kuroo will just be glad a girl is there. Coach Nekomata won’t decline help either.”
You blink at him. “Are you aware the only rules I know about volleyball is to not let the ball hit the ground and to only use your hands?”
“The last one isn’t true.”
“Do you see my point, then?”
yes he does, but he simply chooses to ignore you
it…. does not go well
Kuroo was awkward around you, which turned into a mischievousness when he realized Kenma was the one who brought you in
he kept insinuating you and Kenma were dating which like… no you were just a girl (space) friend
Yaku and Kai were normal-ish though Yaku straight-up asked if your mom was the (l/n)
he let it drop after confirmation at least
then… there was the students in your year
Kenma hovered near you, feeling responsible for putting you in a situation nearly identical to what Kuroo did to him
Yamamoto seemed flustered by your presence and also irritated that Kenma already was your friend
Fukunaga just kinda waved and went back to practicing
it took a while for everyone to get over their initial awkwardness, mostly being helped by having to constantly explain what was happening
but the time spent together meant you quickly found friends
friends who, similar to Kenma, dgaf about anything besides your personality and ability to quickly refill water bottles
Maybe you should have realized sooner what joining the volleyball club entailed. It’s not like you ever really participated in an organized sport though, so these summer practices were kicking your ass. The early morning and heat.... You felt pity for your boys; at least you weren’t having to run. Speaking of, the new members of your team just rounded the last bend.
“Come on, babies,” Kuroo cups his hands over his mouth to ‘encourage’ the first-years. “Even (y/n) could beat that!”
“Don’t say that; Lev’s gonna wanna see it!” you hiss, hitting his side.
Speaking of, the giant, silver puppy heads straight to you. After introductions, his upperclassmen quickly understood Lev required a, well, firm hand. Something you lacked which made you the target of his affections. “Woahh, (y/n)-senpai must be fast! Why don’t you actually play any sports?”
Yaku’s eyes level a harsh glare on him, “Are you trying to insult our manager?”
Shibayama steps forward, saving Lev from having to repeat his run. “I am curious why you chose to be a volleyball manager. No offense, but… you don’t seem to care about the sport.”
“Ah, none taken,” you easily wave off his concern. “Volleyball’s cool enough, but you’re right that I’m not passionate about it in the same way as others on the team. I mostly joined because of Kenma, actually.”
The first-years felt confused. How could their quiet, cat-senpai pull in one of the most popular girls in school? Even last year, when they were in Nekoma's middle-school, they had heard rumors of you. When you joined the volleyball club, even teachers started giving the once-golden club attention again. It was how the club received funding to travel to Miyagi next week. (In addition to a large donation from your mom, who was overjoyed you actually made friends.)
“He was my first and only friend at Nekoma for a long time,” you explain. Lev gasps dramatically. It seems impossible to imagine you without lines of admirers. “It doesn’t matter now since everyone in the club is my friend! Take your bottles and get in the gym; we need to talk about the logistics of going to that camp with Karasuno.”
the ones who stay behind are upset </3 cough cough lev
you’re pretty surprised you do get to go
but you’re excited - from what you understand it’s a rural area and you’ve been in Tokyo your entire life
maybe you'll even see a cow!
except you get there, walk a few feet and then notice Kenma is missing
excitement: ruined
Kuroo panics while repeating that he is not panicking
then you both get a text that’s just “in a playground”
when you find him, you scold him on talking to strangers
anyways the rest of the day is spent familiarizing yourself with the gyms and rooms
you run into Kiyoko while preparing dinner for your team
she explains she’s the only other manager at the camp, but she won’t be staying with you
You’re a lil upset bc sleepover ruined but it seems weird to complain about getting your own room and bath
(you still spend most of the time in the team’s room because it got really lonely without your boys :( )
the next morning, the day of the actual match, you get to wear your Official Manager Clothes
which is really just the track jacket, but it makes you feel cool
meeting karasuno is,,, interesting
you’re starting to think you’ll never find a normal volleyball player
From the corner of your eye, you spot Yamamoto attempting to intimidate some Karasuno players. With a sigh, you go to fetch him.
“Tora-kun, can you please help me bring in some supplies? They’re too heavy,” you whine. It’s you’re tried and true method to keeping him on a leash. If he’s helping you, he’s with the team.
Except you don’t just get his attention, you also get the attention of the boy he was staring down. Tanka startles at your sudden appearance behind Yamamoto and loses the harshness in his face. “G-girl-”
You make eye contact with Kenma who looks amused. He ignores your plead for help. Yamamoto takes the opportunity to flaunt you. “This is (y/n). Talk to her and you’ll learn how much pain a volleyball can inflict.” As he finishes his threat, he gets distracted by Kiyoko’s appearance over Tanka’s shoulder.
You decide it’s a lost cause and subtly inch away until you’re walking with Kiyoko. The boys are unable to hear what you’re talking about, but both stare dumbfounded as the only two girls in the entire camp gossip and laugh. Tanka and Yamamoto share a look; maybe there’s something shared between the two they didn’t see before.
“Is your idiot always like that?”
“Yeah, I assume that’s normal for your team too?”
#cass.writes#manager!reader#hq x reader#haikyu x reader#female!reader#nekoma#also lots of info from the wiki#so pls don’t jump me if it’s wrong
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
REHAB
Another old one where I only posted links to another site. Twin brothers, one with great career and drinking problem. The other fills in for him. It’s long, detailed etc....
The Favor
I haven’t seen my brother Marcus in years but he needs a favor, so of course he called. He didn’t provide any details, just that he needs a ride to Cleveland, Ohio and for me to watch his car for a few weeks. Marcus is my identical twin, down to a tribal band tattoo we got on spring break in college. Even our initials are identical thanks to our mother’s naming us ‘Michael Robert Thomas’ and ‘Marcus Robert Thomas’. Growing up, our parents could never tell us apart and many times we’d trade places even through college.
We both graduated from University of Michigan with a degree in marketing but I took a minor in finance. After graduating, he craved the big city, high pay lure of Chicago while I stayed in Ann Arbor working for a trendy web marketing company. We haven’t been close since graduating from college.
Personality wise, let’s just say Marcus is the charming, outgoing twin and I’m more of a wall flower. In high school and college he was always getting the girl, or guy and sharing with me. He’d do all the work and I was happy with sloppy seconds. Many times we dated the same person without them knowing—that’s how identical we are. Nowadays, we talk occasionally and on our birthday. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine, and I keep up with his via his very active Instagram and Twitter accounts. I’ve got enough ‘marketing’ in my life so I’m more of an online stalker, never posting anything.
According to his Instagram, he just got promoted vice president at Coleman Marketing—a very prestigious firm in downtown Chicago. Someone tagged him in videos from last night celebrating his promotion. He’s raking in the money while I just got laid off. Not that I’m worried as I got a nice severance package and have a few leads on jobs. I was head of a marketing department for an automotive trim manufacturer. Truthfully, I was the marketing department completely.
Marcus pulls up to my house just after 7 am looking exhausted getting out of his BMW. It looks like he’s dressed in what he had on last night. He's wearing a great black leather jacket. His hair is gelled and spiky, and he’s clean shaven. I’ve let myself go lately, not shaving in days and no haircut in weeks. I’ll worry about a haircut and shave when I get a job interview. I greet him on the stoop.
“Marcus, when the hell did you leave Chicago? I was expecting you at lunch. Since when do you get up before noon?” I mock him.
“I was on a high, celebrating my promotion and couldn’t get Chad, my boyfriend, to come home with me. So I didn't sleep, packed up my things, jumped in the car and drove right here. Got coffee?”
“Sure, plenty, help yourself. You look beat bro.”
“You look like a bum bro, what’s with the scruff and hair?” He angrily fires back.
“Using up some vacation time here, getting things done around the house. Love the BMW bro, awesome machine.” I cover for my job loss and change topic.
Marcus walks in, heads straight to the Keurig and makes himself at home. “I just drove 4 hours straight without stopping. You’re driving the rest of the way.”
“Nice, I love BMWs. So what in the hell is in Cleveland, Ohio? Nothing that I know of.”
“I’ve been court ordered to check into St. Joseph Rehab Center.”
“Jesus, what the fuck did you do?” I act shocked but I’m not.
“I had an accident, totaled my car and someone else’s, there was alcohol and drugs involved and it’s my fourth offense.”
“Is everyone okay? Are you okay? You look fine?”
“Yeah, other car was parked and empty, My Land Rover crumpled like paper but it really protected me.”
“Wow, you were lucky bro. I always told you—“
“Shut up, I know, I know…. So I go into rehab for a few weeks, get the doc to sign off that I’m fine and no one is the wiser.” He grabs his head like its pounding.
“A few weeks? Tammy went to rehab for six months!”
“She didn’t have my lawyer.” He boasts.
“So I drop you off, pick you up?”
“That’s it. Keep it quiet, call into work for me Monday, take a few weeks off due to the death of our father.”
“Our father who died seven years ago?”
“Exactly, be all broken up about it. Shed some verbal tears. I have your script written, who to talk to, what to tell them.”
“Why don’t you call them yourself?”
“Once I check in, there’s no phones, computers or visitors allowed.”
“Jeez, sounds like a prison but you’re dressed like you going to a club bro, love the jacket.”
“Yeah, I’m a little over dressed. I came straight from the bar. They said to just bring sneakers, jeans, sweatpants, hoodies and t-shirts. The jacket is Coach, got it a few weeks ago shopping with my boyfriend Chad on the Mag Mile.”
I feel his jacket. “Can I borrow your jacket while you’re locked up.”
“Well, you are driving the rest of the way.” He takes it off, hands it to me and I pull it on over my t-shirt.
“Looks better on me bro.” He snickers at me. “It’s not meant to pair with a t-shirt. Mind if I take a quick shower? I was out all night with friends, haven’t showered yet.”
“Sure go ahead.”
He takes his coffee into my bedroom. The shower turns on while I find the keys for the BMW in his jacket I’m still wearing. I head outside and unlock the sleek black metallic M8 with a stunning red interior. Behind the driver’s seat is his briefcase and in the trunk is a large suitcase. I jump in, hit the start button and she roars to life with a powerful purr. It’s a remarkable car and I can’t wait to drive it.
Back inside I snap a pic of myself and finish up my coffee. Marcus steps out of bedroom, refreshed, wearing a pair of my jeans, a University of Michigan t-shirt and my new Nikes.
“Hope you don’t mind bro. I’ve been in the same clothes since happy hour last night, needed a change.”
“Not a problem, I’ll have my manservant launder and press your clothes.”
“I was sorta overdressed for this place.”
“You think? Now you look like someone with the drinking problem.” I laugh.
“I look like you doofus!” He heads to kitchen and has another cup of coffee.
I grab my hoodie and toss it to him to wear. “I love this jacket bro, you can wear this. Since you won’t be needing anything this nice in rehab, I’ll just borrow it for a while.” I order him.
“Bro, it’s a $1100 jacket. You're not keeping it.”
“Fuck bro, no wonder it feels so soft.” I feel it more. “What you’re wearing now is more appropriate for the Betty Ford Clinic, or wherever the fuck you’re going.”
While he’s rummaging through my kitchen for something to eat, I head back to my bedroom. His outfit is tossed on my chair. I quickly strip out of my sweats pants and dress in his clothes. He’s wearing my best sneakers and favorite t-shirt, I want to try out his look on me. I slip into his Polo Chinos, tuck in his dress shirt, fasten the belt, step into his driving shoes, then check myself out in the mirror. I try fixing my hair like Marcus’ but it’s too long.
I walk out to the kitchen, feeling my new pants, his eyes pop out seeing me. “Damn bro, I’ve never worn pants this soft.”
“Polo, all I wear, got them at their flagship store—“
“On the Mile.” I interrupt him, already knowing the answer. “Cole Haan driving shoes? Really? A bit pretentious if you ask me.”
“They match the jacket and belt man plus they’re so comfortable. You’ve been living in bumfuck Michigan too long, shopping at Walmart. You need to get a sense of fashion. You look presentable now though.” He snidely responds.
“What are you talking about ‘Michael’, I have a great fashion sense, just look at me.” I smile, assuming his identity then confidently pull back on his jacket and hand him my baseball caps.
“Don’t get too comfortable in them, I’ll be back in a few weeks.” Marcus warns me while putting my baseball cap on backwards.
“We’re still identical after 29 years bro.” I look in the mirror seeing a scruffy Marcus staring back, my brother comes up behind to compare.
“You just need a decent haircut, some hair creme and shave. Hey, since you’re the scruffy one, you should do rehab for me.” He jokes.
“In your dreams bro. I’m not the one with the drinking problem.” I shoot him down.
“Whatever ass wipe, you probably can't get a decent drink within 30 miles of here. It’s no wonder you don’t drink. I can take an elevator from my office on the 19th, up to the 95th floor, to the best bar in all of Chicago.” Marcus brags, thinking I’m impressed.
“Oh I drink but not to the point of not getting home, almost killing myself and getting a DUI. You’re the pathetic one.”
“Whatever bro, just remember—dad’s death, then vacation time to get his affairs in order. I have plenty of time to do this without anyone finding out.”
“So call into work for you, lie to them, drive your car around and pick you up in two weeks. Easy.”
“That’s it, by the way, you’re driving since I’m not legally able to. Keys are in my jacket” I pull them out and toss them in the air.
“Great! Just great. Guess I should be grateful I’m not bailing you out of jail.”
Road Trip
We leave Ann Arbor and he talks the entire trip about his accident, how he was drunk and high, driving home from Chad’s place, paying an expensive lawyer, promotion at work, buying this new BMW cash and how he’s going to change. I’ve heard this since college. He’s so self absorbed that I barely talk about myself and don’t mention my job loss or hunt. I’m actually very jealous—his career is exploding even with his fuck ups and mine is imploding. I feel like a loser but driving this new BMW, in his expensive clothes, at least I look like a winner.
As is typical for Marcus, his coffee consumption has me pulling over at a rest stop on i80 not even an hour after leaving my house. I glance in the vanity mirror and start fussing with my hair, thinking of his comment. He’s right, we’re still identical—a haircut and shave would make us indistinguishable. I could have fun as him for a few weeks I think to myself and grin. His phone rings while I’m sitting in the car waiting, so I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Marcus, are you on your way? You’ve got to check in by noon today.” ID shows Stephen Backes.
“Yeah, I’m making good time, according to GPS, I’ll be there about 11am.”
“Please tell me you’re not driving.”
“No, a friend is driving me.”
“Okay, so I have some bad news for you. The judge didn’t agree to two weeks like I thought he would. You’ll be there three to four months, sorry man.” This has to be Marcus’ high price lawyer. “I’m so sorry. Are you there?”
“Fuck!!” Is all I could say while thinking of me needing a job.
“Believe me, we’ll get you out sooner, I won’t stop fighting for you. I’m pushing for a reduction already.”
“So what can I do?” I’m stunned as Marcus will be.
“There’s nothing you can do. Check in today, do all they say and don’t make a scene. I’ll keep in contact via the staff there. I can’t visit and you can’t call out. Get yourself clean. On the bright side, the Alexanders aren’t pressing charges for the property damage, which is great news.”
“Silver lining.” I mutter.
“Okay, don’t worry, I'll get you out in no time.” He hangs up.
I sit there as a crazy thought forms in my mind—Marcus away for three months. I need something to do and who knows about his rehab stint? It’d be fun to step into his life for a while. We did it all the time growing up and in College. During summer break just before graduating from college, we traded places for a few months. He went to Daytona Beach with my boyfriend while I stayed home and partied as him. It worked out great because I was sick of Jonathan’s flaming personality. Marcus’s boyfriend was hot and he was bored with him. It was a great summer being my douche brother, fucking his boyfriend, partying with his friends and living his life. I didn’t want to swap back. Even our parents never figured it out, we were so identical. I stare in the vanity mirror and check myself out, turning my head from side to side, playing with my hair. I’m certain I can pull it off. Just then the car door opens up, Marcus jumps in and startles me.
“Lets get moving bro, I need to be there before lunch.”
“We’ve got plenty of time. So who at work knows about your DUI and rehab visit?” I start to question him to make sure I can step into his life.
“No one, not even my best friend Jason or my boyfriend Chad know. I just got a huge promotion and Coleman was not happy with my last DUI. This one I managed to keep quiet but if I get caught, bye bye career. I called my lawyer right away and was out in hours. I told everyone I bought the BMW to celebrate my promotion, not because I totaled my Range Rover.”
“So you’ll just tell them you’re taking care of dad’s affairs, email them a few times over the next few weeks and no one knows.” I question him.
“Oh fuck, bro, never thought of it that way. I’ll be cut off from the world. You’ll have to check my email and answer my phone for me too, respond to some of them. Tell them you’re having a hard time with mom and she doesn’t have internet or good cell service in northern Michigan. Just adopt my bullshit attitude and tell em you’ll get back to them.”
The more he talks, the easier it’s getting to pull this deception off. “Wow, you haven’t thought this through. Where is your computer? Log in? Phone?” Gathering pieces of his life if I want to go through with this game.
“I didn’t have much time, my lawyer called last night during happy hour, told me to get to Cleveland today. Work computer and files are in the briefcase right behind you. Password is first 4 letters of our last name and last 4 numbers of my social security, 1785. Got it?” He points to the iPhone charging on the center console.
“You better write that down.” I propose. He reaches behind me, grabs the portfolio from his briefcase and starts jotting down notes in it.
“What if someone calls about something specific, like an account or proposal?” I fake concern for more details.
“They’re all on my desktop in folders. You’ll have to email the Ballis Automotive powerpoint to Gary McClintock on Monday so he can handle presentation for me.”
“You always do this Marcus. One little favor blows up into a cluster fuck, just like one little drink for you.”
“I promise this will be easy. I start the position Monday, there is a great marketing team to manage, it’ll run itself for a few weeks. They’ll feel bad contacting me during such tragic times.” He laughs at his deviousness.
He continues to talk the rest of the way, filling me in on his career, telling me what I should be doing, and bragging about his success. He’s quite in love with himself, talking about his recent bonus, how his $2,000,000 condo is now worth $2,500,000, and his $500,000 salary. I know I can do his job in a heartbeat based on our discussion.
When we get off the Cleveland exit I pull over for gas. He has to use the bathroom again but I put my hand out for his wallet.
“Wallet, PIN number?” I ask.
“0394.” He gives it to me without hesitating but it’s the same PIN he’s been using since college.
I fill the tank and jump back in, tucking his wallet in my back pocket where he keeps it.
We make excellent time, getting there at 11:00 am. He grabs his suitcase from the trunk and we head in. The receptionist just stares at us.
“I’m Marcus Thomas, checking in.” He walks up to the receptionist.
“Yes Mr. Thomas, we’re expecting you. Welcome to St. Joseph Clinic, please fill out these forms. We need to check your bags for any substances. Also we discourage any valuables as things tend to go missing or are used to bribe staff.” A bright energetic nurse greets us.
He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders.
“Here, take these, put them in my car.” He removes his watch and ring, and I put them in my pocket.
“I have your wallet.” I pull it out of my pocket.
“You won’t need a penny here Mr. Thomas. In fact we keep your wallet and money locked up to discourage any sorts of bribes. I just need to verify your ID.” The nurse says.
I open his wallet and hand her his ID. She hands it back to me and Marcus waves it away for me to keep it. They have Marcus fill out some forms and he puts me down as emergency contact person. Security rummages through his bag, pulling everything out and even checking the lining. While he is signing things, I take out my phone and sneak pics of his hair, making sure to zoom in on all sides.
“Okay Michael, thanks for the ride. Take care of my baby. Everything for Monday morning is in my briefcase. Cya soon.” A large male nurse grabs his luggage and escorts him to his room.
Heading Home?
Walking out to the BMW, I reach in my pocket and feel my brother’s watch and ring, then feel his wallet in my back pocket. In the car, I flip down the vanity mirror and start playing with my hair again, then adjust it down to admire my outfit. It would be the ultimate deception to step into his life like I did in college—fucking Chad, doing his job, fooling his friends and spending his money. All his personal belongings are in my possession. Marcus even said so himself “You just need a decent haircut, some hair creme and shave.”
I grab his phone and the facial recognition opens it right up for ‘Marcus’. His entire life is in my fingertips. I scroll through his calendar, texts, email and social media. His schedule is full of meetings and appointments, including the Ballis Automotive presentation coming up on Friday. Twitter and Facebook are filled with political rants and chats with friends. Instagram is full of pics of his recent work promotion celebrations. There are videos of him suited up, celebrating in a conference room yesterday, and more at some bar late last night wearing this exact outfit. No wonder he looked like crap this morning. I respond to some of the comments with various emojis as Marcus would, knowing his twisted sense of humor.
After 10 minutes of sitting in the parking lot, I start driving back—straight to Chicago. I haven’t been to his place in almost three years after he moved in and wanted to show it off. His GPS has his home address set for me. It’ll be fun to step into his life for a few months and assume his identity. He’ll be pissed but it’s an opportunity I can’t pass up. I’ll frame it as saving his career when he finds out months from now.
A few miles down the road I spot a ‘Great Clips’ hair salon in a strip mall and pull in without hesitating. They’re not busy and get me in right away. Using the pics from my phone, I ask for the same haircut. A young girl cuts my hair, shaves me, adds creme to my hair, and completely transforms me into Marcus. I stare in the mirror, grin then casually rake my hand through my hair per my brother’s habit. I feel my clean shaven face and the back of my neck. It’s perfect and I tip her heavily from my new wallet. I pull on my new Coach jacket and check myself out in the bathroom before leaving the salon. From my pockets, I pull out my brother’s ring and watch and put them on. I look exactly like Marcus did when he walked into my house earlier today.
Back in ‘my’ BMW, I take my old wallet and phone, and lock them in the center console. I’ll use my driver’s license if I get pulled over. I slip on the sunglasses my brother wore then glance in the vanity mirror seeing Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman Marketing. “Marcus Thomas, nice to meet you.” I say to my new reflection.
I’m doing this—taking over Marcus’ life for a while. It’s payback for him fucking my boyfriends growing up, behind my back without me knowing. I grin in my mirror, then check my Tag watch. It’s 12:30 and my Nav system says I’ll be home in Chicago by 5:30 pm.
During the long ride home, ‘my’ buddy Jason calls—It’s show time.
“Hey buddy, where you at? I stopped by your place and you weren’t there? Thought after last night you’d still be passed out?” He harasses me.
“Sorry, didn’t I mention I had to go see my brother in Ann Arbor?”
“Hell, you never even mentioned you had a brother. Hopefully he’s better looking than you and can hold his liquor.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely the better looking one but he controls his drinking better. We’re not that close but he’s having an engagement party tonight and wanted to see him.” I laugh and play Marcus perfectly.
“So I’m guessing no Sidetracks tonight or golf tomorrow?”
“No, sorry, won’t be home til tomorrow night.”
“Any word on your Merit membership?”
“Nothing yet.” Not sure what he’s talking about, will check into it.
“Okay, don’t forget next Saturday, for sure at Harborside.”
“Didn’t forget, its in my calendar.”
“I need to run here. See you at work bright and early Monday Mr. Vice President.” He chuckles and hangs up.
That went extremely well. I’d love to go out tonight but I need time to learn about my new life. I open up my Facebook while driving, look up Jason and recognize him from my party pics last night. There’s pics of 'us' doing shots, looking wasted. He’s a good friend and didn’t suspect a thing. Five minutes later ‘my’ boyfriend Chad calls. I’m a little nervous but answer it, thinking to myself ‘you’re Marcus Thomas’. My new boyfriend has no reason to doubt my identity.
“Chad, how you doing?
“You sound good after last night.”
“Yeah, good sleep. How you feeling?”
“Great, just got back from picking up sister, then lunch at Brewser's, getting her settled in. You up for meeting her tonight?”
“Oh, I’m in Ann Arbor, my brother has a surprise for me, having a little party.”
“You never mentioned a brother.”
“Yeah, we’re not that close. I’m betting he knocked up his girlfriend and is getting married.” I chuckle.
“Oh great, that should be fun. When you getting back?”
“Late tomorrow I’m thinking.”
“Oh, you’re gonna miss my sister.”
“I’m sorry, this came up a few hours ago with no warning, so here I am cruising to Michigan.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll survive driving the Bimmer, just don’t get a speeding ticket. I’m sorry about last night but I had too much to drink and wasn’t feeling good.” Chad chuckles.
“Don’t worry about it, it happens.”
“I’ll make it up to you Monday babe.” He promises.
“I’m holding you to it.”
“You better hold ‘it’ to me.” Getting suggestive and laughing at his joke.
Chad goes on and on about his sister, her abusive husband and all the drama in her life. I give him my sympathetic ear while he does most of the talking. He doesn’t notice anything different about his boyfriend. I like the sound of his masculine voice which matches his rugged scruff image on my Instagram. I can’t wait to get him into bed but I need some ‘Marcus’ time to learn about my new life.
I drive the rest of the way back to his condo without pulling over. It’s a long ride but the BMW M8 is one sweet machine and makes it pass quickly. Marcus has great tastes in automobile. I’ve never driven a car like this. According to my brother, it has 600 hp and it feels like it. I’m cruising 80 mph but feel like I’m doing only 40 mph. I admire my new car, outfit, ring and watch as I’m flying ‘home’.
Making Myself at Home
The hardest part was finding his assigned parking space after pulling into the garage. This causes me to drive around in circles. I stroll in carrying my brother’s briefcase and find the elevator. Finding my new condo is easy because of my visit a few years ago—Marcus bragged about being just below the Penthouse on the 78th floor. Tucked in my wallet is my access card that gets me into my new home.
I’m immediately in awe of ‘my’ place. It looks like something from ‘Architectural Digest’ magazine. The living room, kitchen and dining room have unobstructed corner view of Lake Michigan. The view is stunning, eliminating the need for any art or focal points in the living room. I take off my jacket, toss it on the sofa, grab a beer and make myself at home. There’s a dividing wall between the kitchen/dining room and the living room with a huge flat screen TV and see-thru open fireplace underneath it. All the furniture is clean, square and contemporary. On the built-in wall unit are pics of mom and dad and other friends but only one of us taken at Halloween where we look nothing alike. A lot of his personal items, like artwork, pictures and music collection reflect both our lives and tastes. There are pics of me but anyone who’d see them would just assume it’s Marcus.
The bedroom is large with a huge master bath and two connected closets full of my new wardrobe. The closets are his and her but he has them set up for work and casual. On the wall in between the two closets is a large built in jewelry chest containing a Rolex, a few Omegas and Tags, and an Apple Watch on a charging stand next to it. There’s also a nice selection of cufflinks, bracelets and other miscellaneous items. Underneath the shelf are drawers full of underwear, jocks and socks. On the wall behind the jewelry box is a safe that opens up after trying a few variations of his social security number. Inside is a gun, cash, passport and his birth certificate.
In my new bedroom, the suit Marcus wore to work and celebrated in yesterday is laying on a leather chaise lounge with his untied shoes nearby on the floor. I pick up the suit coat and try it on—a perfect fit as would be expected. Everything he wore, that defined him yesterday is there to transform me into him. A devious thought crosses my mind—heading out to the 95th for a bite and getting familiar with my work place, in his work outfit from yesterday. I rush to the bathroom to freshen up and check out ‘my’ toiletries. A little bit of hair creme, brushing my teeth, a quick dab of deodorant, a spray of cologne and I’m the epitome of my brother.
Back in my bedroom, I quickly strip out of my brother’s bar clothes and start pulling on his black Tom Ford suit. His cuffed pants still have his belt in as I pull them on. His white dress shirt with monogramming have the cufflinks still in place. It’s tapered and hugs my body as I tuck it into my pants. His black cap toe shoes are still tied and broken in, for me to wiggle into. In the mirror I perfectly knot his silver textured tie as our father taught us when we were 14. Pulling on his suit coat completes my transformation and in the mirror staring back is Marcus as he was at work celebrating his promotion.
It’s 8pm and I’m starving and decide to stop by ‘my office, then grab a bite at the 95th since my brother is a regular. ‘My’ office is on the 19th floor, so that’s my first stop since it is necessary for starting my new job on Monday. In the mirror I check my hair, and tuck my wallet, iPhone and keys in my pockets.
At his office, finding his parking spot is just as tricky as at the condo, taking me 10 minutes to locate. My RF card operates the elevator, taking me to the 19th floor, where I easily find my office a few doors down from Robert Coleman’s corner office. The view isn’t nearly as spectacular as my condo but it’ll do for a work space. I spend an hour sitting at the desk, exploring drawers and files, and learning the layout so I’m up to speed first thing Monday morning. I didn’t think to bring my computer or I would have stayed longer.
Learning my way around this building is complicated—figuring what elevator gets me where. I have to take the business elevator to a public lobby and take the express elevator up to the 95th. The hostess recognizes ‘Mr. Thomas’ and asks if I’m meeting anyone. I just tell her I’m grabbing a drink at the bar and she leads me to the bar where ‘Tony’ also knows me and hands me a Gin and Tonic without asking.
“Thanks Tony. Busy Night?”
“Not really. Jimmy said last night was insane. You hungry?”
“Yeah it was busy. I’m starving.”
“The usual?”
“Yeah, that’ll do.” I have no clue what I’m getting but I’ll eat anything.
I then head to the men’s room, taking my time to learn the layout as Marcus would know. Based on ‘my’ Instagram account, I’ll be spending many happy hours here in the coming months. There’s a steak tenderloin sandwich waiting at the bar for me when I get back. Tony rambles on and on about my brother and his friends, talking about Jason striking out with the redhead from J.P. Morgan last night he heard about from Jimmy. We’re quite the regulars here and I’m glad I stopped.
I get home after 11pm, exhausted from driving all day. Just like Marcus, I climb naked into his messy, unmade bed and pass right out. The first thing I do after waking up is jump in the shower, using his body wash, shampoo and conditioner. I don’t hesitate to use his electric toothbrush, deodorant or other personal items as my own. The final touch is using my brothers hair creme and styling it as he would. I grin and say to myself “Good morning Marcus.”
Standing in ‘my’ bedroom, I go to the closets and slowly finger all of my new clothes. I pull open doors and drawers and familiarize myself with the contents. I pick up a sweater from the top of the closet and can smell the scent of the real Marcus Thomas. I start to think of my new identity and of the months ahead of living here and wearing all these clothes - ‘Marcus Thomas’ clothes. Silently I think, “you know what they say about clothes making the man!"
I walk around taking it all in, noting how it’s organized. From his drawers, I pull on a pair of his black Under Armour briefs. From the casual closet, I grab a pair of tan Polo chinos and a baby blue cashmere v-neck sweater I recognize from his instagram. His Cole Haas chukka boots and matching belt from yesterday go great with my Sunday outfit. A gold Omega watch and his black/titanium ring complete my very Marcus look. I’m the embodiment of my brother. Once dressed, I go through my work closet and explore.
His work suits are at one end, organized by color. I scan them, pull them apart to inspect and try on a few. They’re all very high-end Tom Ford, Brooks Brothers, Brioni or Hugo Boss and the fit is impeccable as to be expected. These are easily $5000 suits, compared to my $300 ‘Men’s Wearhouse’ specials. Next to his suits are dress shirts in all colors and styles, many of them custom with monogramming. His ties, belts, and shoes are concealed in the wall via very unique organizers that rolls out from the wall. These pull out organizers separate his outerwear like topcoats, trench coats from his dress shirts and suits. There’s one empty ‘Coach’ hanger that must be for my leather jacket that I wore yesterday.
Back in my bedroom, I pick up my clothes from yesterday and toss in the hamper, except my old pair of Calvin Klein underwear—they end up buried deep in the kitchen garbage can. There can be nothing to reveal my real identity, no connection to my brother Michael.
The kitchen is contemporary with high-end cabinets and appliances—sleek stainless steel, beautiful teak wood cabinets and marble countertops. Breakfast is K-cup coffee and a power bar. On the counter is a note from a Trudy, informing ‘me’ that she’ll begin thorough cleaning on Tuesday. So I have a housekeeper, of course I do. During breakfast, I familiarize myself with the kitchen, learning where things are, what’s in his fridge and cupboards.
I take my breakfast to his office and his home computer wakes up with no password, showing me bookmarks for his banking, retirement and other accounts. His Wells Fargo checking account has $50,000 in it and his spending is very revealing. The account reveals a $15,000 check that paid for his lawyer, a $5000 check went for his DUI fine, another $40,000 check for St Joseph rehab. Keeping his DUI secret wasn’t cheap but it didn't dent his finances at all. There’s a $1012 charge from Coach Chicago, and in ‘my’ emails is the receipt dated a few weeks ago. His checking account reveals his dry cleaner, ‘lovely home’ cleaning service and all his spending habits. I’m definitely going shopping today on the Magnificent Mile or ‘Mag Mile’ as we locals call it.
His $24,000/monthly deposits from Coleman provide a great lifestyle but there’s numerous deposits from ‘Cayman National Bank’ of $100,000 going back years. Something doesn’t look right—there’s a lot of money moving around. A Fidelity account reveals diverse investments worth $3m. There’s also a J.P. Morgan account for his Palladium VISA that ‘I’ used to buy my new BMW weeks ago. I don’t have a thing to worry about financially as Marcus.
I open up his work laptop and easily log in as him. There’s a few new emails to review, then I spend hours reading through his old ones, getting up to speed with Ballis and other key customers. Thanks to his email history, it’s easy to respond to a few new emails as he would. On his desktop are all the files he mentioned, that’ll help me to learn his work issues. The Ballis presentation looks to be complete, ready for me to give on Friday but it looks boring. Some things seem odd or missing—I’ll have to look at that later.
My First Performance
It’s now lunch, I’m hungry and grab my new leather jacket to go out shopping. With my phone, wallet and keys in place, I head down to my car to start my first day. My first stop is the Burberry flagship store where I buy a tan classic trench coat that I didn’t find in my closet. I’ve always loved that classic look but they’re $2700—a little steep for my brother Michael but not me. Across the street is the Under Armour store that I shop at monthly and just have to check out. Half an hour later, I’m leaving with new underwear and some workout gear. I walk into the Coach store and I’m immediately accosted by the salesperson who sold ‘me’ the leather jacket I’m wearing. To make his day, I purchase a black hooded leather jacket that catches my eye for $1200. As I’m loading everything into my BMW, the phone rings and I don’t hesitate to answer it.
“Hey Liam.” I love caller ID. I’m able to answer like I’ve known him for years.
“Hey Marcus, what are you doing?”
“Was out shopping, looking to grab lunch now and need to work later.” Reminding myself that I need more time in the office before my first day on the job.
“Where you at, I’ll join you.” He offers.
“On the Mile near Burberry.” I respond eagerly but think of the test of fooling ‘Liam’.
“Great, meet me at Capital Grill in 30 minutes.”
“Sounds like a plan.” My brother’s usual lingo, or it use to be.
Capital Grill is a few minutes away, giving me plenty of time to dig up information on Liam. Based on text messages and emails, he is gorgeous with short brown hair, an amazing six pack, blue eyes, stubble and is definitely a love interest. It looks like my brother and him were hot and heavy during the summer, with trips to Saugatuck and Holland Michigan on weekends. According to recent emails, he moved to Detroit for a big promotion with Bank of America. ‘My’ Instagram is full of beach parties, bonfires and drinking on a beach. My phone is even better with pics of him naked in my bedroom. Nice one bro!
I’m sure I’ll fool him easily. He shows up 30 minutes later with a big wet kiss for me. I’m instantly hard seeing him and from passionately kissing a hot stranger. During lunch he’s teasing my legs with his toes and reaching across with his hands, touching mine.
“How’s Detroit treating you?” I start with what I know.
“I hate it! It’s dirty, the bars suck and no there’s no shopping like here.” He teases my legs constantly.
“It’s a big change I’m sure.” I can’t help but stare into his blue eyes.
“Are you seeing anyone?” He probes.
“Not really, a few dates, you? Been busy with work and my promotion.”
“We need to celebrate that, I saw your Instagram posts and would have come home a few days earlier had I known.” He has his foot in my crotch, feeling my hard-on with his toes.
“We could celebrate privately now back at my place.” I smile and take his hand.
He grabs mine, pulls me up and we head back to ‘my’ place. Once inside, I press him against the wall, ram my tongue down his throat then drag him back to my bedroom and rip off his clothes. I push him on the bed.
“Fuck man, your horny Marcus.” He reaches into the drawer, easily finds a condom and pulls me into the bed. In seconds I’m on my back, the condom is slipped on and he’s straddling me, riding my throbbing cock.
“Oh my god Liam.” I scream out in ecstasy and explode in him.
It was a great afternoon, especially when he screams out “Fuckkk Marcus” and I pump him full of cum.
“Man, you’re incredible as always.” He cries out exhausted.
“It feels like it’s been years, I’ve missed you so much. You’re so hot.” I collapse back with my hands behind my head, totally thrilled with my performance as Marcus.
“You’re one horny fucker, it must have been a while for you. You seem different, more relaxed, laid back?” He shocks me, then giggles and I join in.
“That was months of missing you.” I kiss him deeply and get hard again.
He takes my stiff throbbing member in his mouth without asking, getting me off again in seconds. Fuck, my brother really should keep this one—he’s hot, smart, funny and great in bed. Men like that are tough to find. We shower, scrubbing each other and making out. I’m grinning in the mirror, seeing Liam walking up behind me with a look in his eyes. He hasn’t notice anything different about ‘Marcus’.
“You look handsome as ever, babe,” he says, reaching his arm around and grabbing my stiff penis. “You sure you have to go to work?”
“Sorry but tomorrow is my first day as Vice President, I have a lot of prepping to do. When do you leave?” I turn around and kiss him gently.
“Wednesday morning, let’s do this again Tuesday night. I have a business dinner tomorrow.” He whispers in my ear.
“It’s a date.”
He pulls off the towel from around my waist, wraps his arms around my neck and starts deeply kissing me. I brace myself against the counter and pull him tight cupping his ass in my hands. Minutes later, he dresses and says goodbye with a peck on the cheek. I grab my iPhone and duplicate a pic that’s in my camera of ‘me’ from a few weeks ago, with only a white towel around my waste. My build and six pack appears to be identical to my brother’s. I grin knowing my new identity is perfect. I’m dressing in front of the mirror, thinking of the best sex I’ve had in years. It’s incredible being Marcus with all the benefits—hot men, great wardrobe and incredible condo. It’s off to work here though. I need to be up to speed tomorrow. I need to know exactly what I’m doing.
No one is in the office on a Sunday afternoon and I have the whole place to myself to explore. My office is very impressive, very high-tech looking with a great view. There lots of plants, large conference table, hidden closet and great desk with two large monitors that automatically sync to my laptop when I open it. I’m there for hours logged into the system learning the layout, looking up files/people and my dashboard. By the end of the night, I’m responding to emails as Marcus would and planning my week. As I’m leaving, I glance my image in the window and smile as satisfaction sweeps over me. I’m ready for my first day as vice president.
Work Day One
I get to bed at 11 pm but I’m up after midnight studying the social media of fellow employees. I drift in and out of sleep all night long. The excitement of being Marcus Thomas has me up at 5 am planning my day—my 1st team meeting to review projects at 9 am, lunch with MedTech CMO and Ballis review at 3 pm.
I crawl out of bed a little apprehensive about pulling off this charade. Then I remind myself how easily I passed for my brother with Liam, his coworker Jason and his lawyer. Since no one knows about Michael, there’s no reason for anyone to suspect I’m not Marcus. A long shower calms me down and using Marcus’s body wash gives me his base scent. All his personal hygiene items, including his Polo cologne which he’s been wearing since college are on his counter. I’m not a big fan of hair wax and creme but Marcus is. I put a dab in my hand, warm it up in my palms and work it through my hair. Running his comb through it, gives me his flawless style, identical to the photos in my phone. I use his electric toothbrush, spritz on some Polo, lift up my arm and make a few passes with his deodorant. My brother’s scent is now mine.
Marcus has alway been anal with his appearance and style—planning and laying everything out before dressing so I adopt the same habit. I’ve reviewed his Instagram and photos looking for some guidance on what he likes to wear. They’re a wealth of information on his tastes. His charcoal glen plaid Tom Ford suit catches my eye and looked great on him a few weeks ago. I pair it with a white french cuff, spread collar shirt, purple textured tie and white silk pocket square. The Tag is fine for weekends and casual days but knowing my pretentious brother, I’m certain Marcus would wear either the Omega or Rolex watch for work. I select his white gold Rolex and a pair of matching cufflinks. His black cap toe Allen Edmond shoes finish Marcus’ outfit for the day.
In front of the closet mirror, I pull on his, no, my socks, underwear and t-shirt, then cuffed pants and custom shirt. His cufflinks and tie are next. His Allen Edmonds are luxurious and broken in for me. The way everything fits, it's clear we're still the same size. Finally I pull on the suit coat, add watch and ring, then tuck phone and wallet into my suit pockets. I’m watching my transformation in the mirror, pleased with every detail that confirms I’m Marcus Thomas, new vice president of marketing for Coleman.
It’s hard to believe how completely different ‘my’ life is now–looking in the mirror, my reflection isn’t my own any more, I’m Marcus Thomas. I reach up and rake my hand through my thick hair. I love being Marcus—his style, his money and sex life so far are great. I straighten and adjust the knot of my tie with a smirk. “I’m Marcus Thomas,” I say to myself as my new reality is settling in.
I drive to work even though I could easily walk but there’s emails from HR about my new assigned parking space. Knowing Marcus, I’m certain he’d be driving everyday to show off the BMW M8, even with his DUI issue. This version of him will do the same but in case I’m pulled over, my original wallet is locked in the BMW console. I find my new parking spot, shut off the engine and mentally prepare myself. “I’m Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman” I repeat to myself many times.
I pull out my new coach wallet and work ID with RF chip, then I notice ‘my’ driver’s license. It’s the one detail I need to assume Marcus’ life in Illinois—his driver’s license. Marcus’ drivers license is suspended and if I use it for a traffic stop, I’ll be in jail. I can’t call his lawyer to fix it and they probably wouldn’t restore it until rehab is complete and he’s free. Then the perfect solution hits me—first, I’ll change my name in Michigan from Michael to Marcus then ‘move’ to Illinois using my new name and Marcus’ address. I’ll have a valid ‘Marcus Robert Thomas’ driver’s license that’s perfect with a clean driving record.
A quick check of myself in the vanity mirror reflects Marcus back at me, looking very sharp as usual. I get out and stroll in with my briefcase ready for my new position. People are greeting me, congratulating me and asking about my weekend. Everyone knows about my party Friday night at McGee’s. I need to thank my team member, Richard Zeppa for that tidbit of information I was lacking.
I hang up my new trench coat but leave on my suit, not sure what the dress code is for upper management. On Friday everyone was in a suit jacket during the office party for my promotion. At the coffee machine, the office gossip, politics and small talk comes easy. It teaches me a lot about the company, helping me fit in. Back in my office the day begins with email and prepping for my 9:30 am review with my team. Marcus was kind enough to do the prep work for me, outlining all the issues and his concerns. It’ll be like he’s actually there. Come to think of it, he is here and I’ve got to think of myself as my brother completely.
Jason shows up at my office looking even better in person. He walks in, shuts the door and jumps into one of my chairs. Too bad he’s not gay or I’d be all over my new best friend.
“Look at you Mr. Vice President, all professional looking and in early. New tie? You look rested and ready to go.” He notices.
“First impressions are important, especially with a new team to impress. Nah, I’ve had this tie, just wanted something that pops.” I notice he’s keeping his suit on.
“How was your weekend, when did you get back?” He asks and I’m ready.
“It was good, I met my brother’s fiancee, drank too much, a lot of family was there and pressure is now on me to tie the knot. I got home about 10 pm and crashed. What did you do?” I explain.
“You tie the knot? You can barely tie your shoes.” He mocks and laughs at me. “Crashed all day Saturday, went out with Christine to some comedy club, sex and golf with Ted and Will yesterday.”
There’s a knock on my door and I recognize Adam Trappe, Coleman’s President. Jason jumps up from chair and welcomes ‘Adam’ into my office.
“Adam, Come on in, we’re just catching up.”
Adam comes right in, I stand up as a sign of respect. “Marcus, Ready for your first day?”
“Sure, anxious to tear into the job.” I smile as he has no clue this really is my ‘first’ day.
“Don’t forget lunch with Andy Kramer from Medtech. We need to tag team him on his spend.” Adam reminds me.`
“Adam, with the proposal I have planned, he’ll be begging to give us more money and buying us lunch. I promise.” Doing my best impersonation of my arrogant brother, having memorized his talking points for lunch today.
Adams smiles. “I’ll drive, just stop by my office about 11:30. Kristi made reservations at Gracy’s.”
Jason and Adam leave and I review ‘my’ notes for my first team meeting. Apparently, Marcus’s rehab stint was a last minute event because he has the next few weeks planned out and prepped for. Everything is right at my fingertips to be him.
The whole day was easier than I expected. For the project reviews, it was new for all everyone so I followed my standard practice and raised Marcus’ concerns from his notes. Lunch was a huge success as Kramer loved my proposal and agreed to increase his marketing budget. Adam’s only complaint was him having to pick up lunch for us. I spend the rest of the day with my new team in and out of my office, and catching up with a flood of emails. Overall, It was an incredible day.
Jason stops by my office for happy hour and a few of us head up to the 95th. The view of the city from up there is amazing but I try to ignore it since it would be familiar to Marcus. Jimmy automatically hands me ‘my’ usual Gin & Tonic. We’re there for a few hours, drinking and having appetizers. Unlike my brother, I know when to stop which Jason notices.
“You’re different Marcus, something wrong? You’re not drinking.”
“Rough weekend thanks to Friday night and you, then driving to Ann Arbor. Then starting new position today.”
“So why aren’t you drinking?”
“Because of Friday night and you.”
He laughs at me. “Did you invite your boyfriend? Chad just came in with ‘Alex’ and is heading this way.”
Shit, Marcus mentioned Chad and something about the accident. I open up my phone and run to the bathroom quick. “I’ll be right back, beer is kicking in.”
“What beer?” He gets cocky with his best friend.
In the bathroom I quickly review text messages from him, trying to piece together their relationship. The early text messages are about partying and clubbing at some trendy spots. Later messages are about sex, going out for dinner and hanging out. I’ll just have to wing it, can’t hide in the stall all night. I splash cold water on my face, stare in the mirror and think to myself ‘you’re Marcus Thomas, just look at you’. After straightening my tie and running my hand through my hair, I head back to the bar. One thing is certain, he’s hot and if he wants to have sex, I’m in. Chad comes over to me with a big hug followed by a tender kiss. I’m hard in a minute like I was with Liam yesterday.
“I knew I’d find you here babe. I’m sorry about Friday night, I just had so much to do Saturday and Sunday with my sister in town.” He pouts.
“Don’t worry about it. I forgot about a family event in Ann Arbor I had to go to.” I lie.
Jason whispers in my ear. “Don’t want to say the marriage word do you?” Then chuckles.
“I’ve missed you.” Chad says while his friend Alex gives me really dirty looks. I’m not sure who he is, if they’re related, friends or what.
“I’ve missed you, can I get you a drink?”
“A vodka cranberry would be great, Alex, do you want something?” He asks his friend.
“Vodka cranberry would do the trick.” He says queerly. I get a very jealous vibe off him.
I head to the bar and pay with my new Amex then return. Alex is hanging up his phone, excited because his boyfriend got home early and is waiting for him. He guzzles his drink and runs, leaving Chad with me and my friends.
I play Marcus’ friends convincingly and no one doubts my identity. I make sure to take lots of selfies with Jason and Chad and post them on my Instagram and Facebook, using clever hashtags and comments. Instead of my usual Ultra beer, I’m drinking Marcus’ gin & tonic and notice that Jason is a Yuengling drinker. In the mirror behind the bar, I glimpse Marcus and his best friend drinking and getting shit face.
I’ve known Marcus my entire life while Chad has known him only a few months. After a few drinks, he’s grabbing my ass and kissing me. I lean in and kiss him deeply back, loving the credibility he gives me as my brother, accepting me so easily, loving it when he calls me Marcus. I want to fuck him so badly. We hurry back to my place and I fuck him in my brother’s bed. As I make my way down his body, I slide his underwear off, then delicately lick his perfect penis. He’s been here before as he has no problem finding my condoms and slipping one on me. I slip into him slowly and push in deeply, making him moan louder and louder. When he calls out ‘Marcus’, I climax immediately and he follows a minute later. I spoon him to sleep with my hands wrapped around his waist.
I wake up to my shower running and him running around the apartment.
“Don’t get up, it’s early and I have a shoot at 6am with Charlie Matthews. He’s gorgeous.” His voice full of excitement.
I grab my phone off the charger and quickly google Charlie Matthews. “Not as hot as what you had last night.”
“Hot and sexy. I had a great time, let’s do this Friday night and we can sleep in Saturday.”
“Let me text you on that, Friday is really busy and I have a golf outing with Jason really early Saturday. I blew him off last weekend, can’t do it again.” I explain.
“Let me know then.” He comes over to the bed and kisses me deeply. I keep my hand on the back of his head and try to keep him from leaving.
I’ve been Marcus for two days and have had sex every day—more than I had in the past six months as Michael. His life is better than expected and I wouldn’t change a thing. I wonder who else I could fuck, or hook up with Liam again since he is still in town. Marcus has been living the good life for sure. I then remember seeing Grinder on my brother’s phone, grab it and start swiping for some possible action for tonight.
Work Day Two
In the shower, I grab my semi-rigid penis, think of my new sex life, rub one out then follow my routine. I’m in love with Marcus’s life—the sex, job, friends, car, and condo. Stepping into his life it has been easier than I ever imagine. I’m really appreciating his closet, especially his suits. When we were growing up, he always had a more ‘put-together’ preppy look, paying attention to details. I was more grunge and laidback. It was the only way our parents could tell us apart. He’s taken his preppy look to the next level. He has a subscription to GQ and collection on his closet shelf going back years. I never knew he was such a metrosexual.
His appearance is easy to duplicate with his complete wardrobe at my finger tips. Thanks to his Instagram, there are years of pics and videos of him during and after work at happy hours. There are pics of him in a light gray window pane suit that catches my eyes. It’s dated a few months ago and it looked great on him. It’s a Hugo Boss suit that I easily find in his closet. All the details except the shoes are easy to find and pull together. As Marcus does, I lay everything out on my bed to perfect.
My second day starts with Jason waiting for me in my office.
“Where were you bro?” He demands.
“What?” I have no clue what he’s referring to.
“Hello? The gym? Did you forget?”
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry man. I hooked up with Chad, was ‘busy’ all night and over slept.” Thinking quick because I had no clue about Marcus working out. I did notice a gym bag on the floor in the closet but didn’t think about it.
“I didn’t see you leaving with him?”
“Because you were busy with Cathy.” I give him one of Marcus’ devious smiles, like he ate the canary.
“All is forgiven oh great one.” He jokes, bows and twirls his hand as a sign of respect.
The rest of my day is easy, getting into account and proposal details, working with my team. Jason is in and out of my office talking about anything and everything—I really like the guy and being his friend. We do lunch together at the Big Pig just across the street. According to my debit account, it’s at least a weekly occurrence if not more. Marcus eats anything so there’s no need to worry what I order. The only questionable choice was me getting a Coke instead of a beer. Jason commented and told him I drank too much again last night. It seemed to quiet him quickly.
As we were finishing up, Liam called about getting together tonight and I don’t hesitate to say yes. I pick him up at his hotel, take him to Ghezzi’s for Italian. I ply him with wine while staying away from it. The wine doesn’t affect his ‘foot work’ in my crotch fortunately and I’m throbbing hard all through dinner. We skip desert and I he ends up with my penis as ‘desert’ and loves it. I’m now three for three with sex so far this week. Liam doesn’t stay so he can catch his early morning flight back to Detroit tomorrow.
Work Day Three
Two days of work have gone fairly smooth. There’s been a few glitches, like Marcus’ gym habit or not knowing things off the top of my head, that have been out of character. There will be more missteps and I’ll just respond the best I can.
To sort out the gym routine with Jason, I start with his gym bag where I find his gear but also his gym ID card and dry cleaning slip in the end pocket. He’s a member of John Hancock Center Fitness, and also uses the Hancock dry cleaner. On my calendar are blocked off areas for ‘gym’ on Tuesday and Thursday morning at 7 am. There are still a lot of blanks I need to fill out so I head to work early for a quick stop at the gym.
I’m greeted by ‘Gina’ the receptionist at the entrance. “Marcus, we missed you yesterday, Jason was looking for you too.”
“Yeah Gina, he tore into me in the office for it.” I laugh.
“What can I do for you?”
“I think I may have lost my ear buds here, did anyone turn a pair in?” I ask.
“Not that I know of but let me check.” She heads into the manager’s office while I head to the men’s locker room to find my locker. There’s a number on my ID card that leads me to my locker and opens it right up for me. Marcus has his complete bathroom duplicated in here—Polo products, toothbrush and extra gear. There’s a clipboard showing a routine that he hasn’t used it in a year per the date but it does give me an outline of his habit.
I grab my earbuds out of my pocket and head back to Gina.
“It looks like you’ve found them.” She notes happily.
“Yeah, left them in my locker like an idiot.” I laugh. “Hey was Jason in today?”
“No but then again, he never comes without you except on Sundays once in a while.”
“Oh you have his attendance history?”
“Sure, going back years to when you both joined.” She turns the monitor around for me to see. Right there is what I needed—Jason and I work out every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork at 7 am, leave about 8:30 am, grab a coffee at the Starbucks per my spending alerts and head to work.
“Thanks for your help Gina, see you tomorrow.”
“No you won’t, remember Ron is on Thursday.” She corrects me.
“Oh yeah, it feels like Monday for some reason.” A plausible recover.
My gym routine is set for tomorrow morning with my best friend.
After a few days as Marcus, my life is already becoming routine. I’m using ‘I’ll get back to you’ a lot but I do get back to them after I research the issue. This helps with learning the job and customers. No one has questioned my identity but then why would they with my looks.
Late in the day a young kid with a man bun knocks on my door and walks in. I have never seen him before.
“Mr. Thomas, hi, I’m Gavin from IT services. Are you having computer problems?” He asks.
“No, why?” I respond not thinking I have any issues. I’m in the system and seem to have full access.
“Well, we track logins and you haven’t been using your biometric scanner, just your PIN.”
Damn, I did see a fingerprint scanner on the desk and haven’t bother with it even though it blinks when I open up my MacBook. I tried it once then it turned red and rejected me.
“It didn’t work on Sunday so I’ve just been using my PIN. Isn’t that okay?” I explain.
“The PIN should only be used when you’re traveling, working remotely. The fingerprint is much more secure, prevents hackers from gaining access. Mr. Coleman wants his senior staff more protected.” Gavin explains.
“Understood, I just wasn’t worried about it.”
“Shut down and reboot and try it.” He directs.
After it boots up, I try my fingerprint and it beeps red.
“Hmmm, your fingerprint file must be corrupt. We’ll rescan and reconfigure it for you. It happens now and then.” From his bag he pulls out his computer and hand size scanner. He hooks everything up and the scanner glows blue for him.
“Now just place your right hand on it and don’t move till it glows green.”
I’m nervous wondering if this will compare old and new, and alert him to the difference. He removes my hand, then types away at his laptop.
“Okay, now reboot and try any finger.” He orders.
It boots up, I try my index finger and it approves.
“All set Mr. Thomas. Next time it happens, call me right away. Also, we’ll be adding biometric scanners to all the executive offices and lobby entrance in a few weeks. You’re all set for that now.”
“Thanks Gavin, I appreciate the help.” Gavin doesn’t realize how much he’s helped me. I’ve been looking at that scanner all week, wondering how get my fingerprints recognized and afraid of asking for help because of fear I’d be discovered. I’m now Marcus Thomas with security.
I skip happy hour with my friends and head home to prep for tomorrow’s big presentation. On the way I stop at the cleaners and pick up a bundle of laundry, suits, ties and shirts. The elderly woman greets ‘Mr. Thomas’ and thanks me for my business. At home I review my dry cleaning as I hang up everything in my closet. There’s a sharp 3 piece charcoal suit that’s one of my favorites based on Instagram and will be my outfit for tomorrow.
I work in my home office till 9 pm reviewing the Ballis files, meeting notes and account details. Marcus’ Ballis history spans almost 2 years. It’s obvious the quality of his work has vastly improved over those years. There’s a maturity to it now. I pull up the Ballis presentation and practice it for Friday’s meeting. The one difference between myself and Marcus is that I’m the better public speaker. There are a few videos of him giving presentations in his account files and we’re about equal now.
TGIF
I’m awake very early, planning my outfit for today’s big presentation. I’ll be wearing one of my brother’s, I mean one of my favorite outfits—I’m all Tom Ford today. I checked my shopping receipts and found that I purchased a ‘Tom Ford Windsor 3-piece peak lapel suit’ for $7200 a few months ago. That was just for the suit—add $300 for tie, $50 for a pocket square, $600 for a custom dress shirt, $2000 for a pair of English Tan leather shoes, $75 for black underwear, $145 for t-shirts and a stunning $4950 for ‘striped’ cufflinks for a total of $17,000. They must love me at Tom Ford. It takes 30 minutes to find all these items in my closet.
It’s amazing slipping into $75 boxer briefs that hug my ass. I never liked wearing t-shirts but Marcus always does so I pull on a brand new $145 Tom Ford t-shirt. For socks, I find a crazy colorful bright green pair with golf balls on them—for a pop of color. He showed these off on his Tiktok account which I’ve yet to use. I pull on the cuffed pants and add a belt, using the same hole as he has a few times. His custom shirt tapers to my waist. The striped cufflinks are a bit tricky but look like a million dollars. The tie decision is tough but I stick with the gold paisley Tom Ford he wore with this suit before. His tan dress shoes look great but are not yet broken in, but he left them tied so I just wiggle into them. I’ve never worn a 3-piece suit in my life but the vest adds an image of authority as it goes on. I remove the suit jacket and confidently pull it on, adjusting the cuffs and tie in the mirror. ‘My’ Rolex and ring complete my transformation into Marcus Robert Thomas.
In the mirror is Marcus Thomas, vice president at Coleman Marketing, running his hand through his hair, checking every detail of his appearance. My new Burberry tops off my identity.
Friday cements my new identity. The Ballis presentation is flawless and after 5 hours, their marketing team awards Coleman a huge contract worth $5m. My biggest challenge was quickly learning the names of the key players since my brother had a number of meetings with them. Robert Coleman congratulated me at happy hour on the 95th. He pulls me aside and says. “keep doing this and you won’t be VP for long.”
Jason, who wasn’t in the meeting, comes up to me and I have Mark take a pic. “Marcus, you’re the buzz of the entire office, even Adam is praising you.”
“Buddy, Ballis was just ripe for a new marketing direction and it all fell into place.”
“Well, it was your best work according to everyone in the room.” He adds.
“Robert quietly told me I wouldn’t be VP for long, so he’s either firing me or promoting me.” I smile while Jason jumps up and down hugging me.
“You better not be stealing my boyfriend.” Chad shows up, puts his hand around my neck and pulls me in for deep kiss.
“Babe, you’re late.” I note.
“Yeah, last minute phone call with California. I’ll make it up to you later.” He smiles.
Jason chimes in.”don’t keep him up all night, we’re playing Harborside bright and early.”
“I didn’t forget.” I assure him.
After Chad discretely reaches in my pocket and fondles my cock., we excuse ourselves, grab dinner and head back to my place. We fuck all night long, including in my shower, early the next morning. As soon as Chad leaves, Jason calls to make sure I’m up.
He offers to pick me up and drive. I’m grateful since I’m clueless how to get to Harborside. Marcus’ golf clothes are in the casual part of my closet and his clubs are in one of my spare bedrooms along with his other toys. Marcus was always a better golfer than me and I haven’t played in years. Again, I use instagram to select a typical Marcus outfit—Under Armour shorts and shirt, Adidas cleats and his leggings since it’s chilly outside. He has a great set of Callaway clubs and bag but it doesn’t help. Jason points out that I suck more than usual but I blame it on not sleeping last night and not playing in weeks.
The best part of the day is Jason driving me back to his place to help him move some furniture. I now know where my best friend lives. We hang out for hours, watch some college football, and drink too much beer the rest of the afternoon. That night we hit up “Sides” and I get wasted for the first time in 7 years. My new friends are great and clueless they have a new friend.
Sunday is set aside as a ‘me’ day to celebrate my first incredible week living my brother’s life. I dress in my usual Polo Chino, a sweater and my favorite leather jacket. For breakfast I take the M8 north along Lake Michigan and find a little diner to eat then head back to the city to shop. Even though I mock the ‘Mag Mile’, there’s no better place to shop and that’s my plan. My net worth is north of $5 million now and I’m going to spend some of it. At the Polo store I’m recognized, kissed up to and end up spending $2500 for sport coat, pants and casual shirt. At the Rolex Boutique I spend $13,000 on Rolex Daytona, putting it on my Platinum VISA. The serious damage is done at Tom Ford where I spend $20,000 on a few new suits, suspenders, shoes and ties. One is a double breasted, the other is a 3-piece suit and I haven’t seen anything like them in my closet. Everything I purchase reflects Marcus’ style and tastes, not Michael’s.
Back home, it takes two trips to unload the car. Chad comes over for dinner and spends the night. He’s shocked to learn I can cook but I keep it simple with some steaks on the grill, potatoes and salad. He’s up early to go to work and I decline an invitation to join him so I can sleep in. I really enjoy spending time with him, especially the sex.
The next week flies by like the first with long hours, working out and happy hours with Jason and friends. Robert has given me the AMP account to conquer next, bypassing Adam. My love life is insane. Chad fucked me in the bathroom on the 95th, Liam wants me to spend a weekend with him in Detroit. Merit approved my application for membership so Jason and I will be taking the AMP management team there for a round before the season end.
I can’t believe how easy it’s been stepping into Marcus’ life and how much I’m enjoying it. His routine is now my routine—whether it’s working out, or happy hour or work. I’ve replaced him and no one has a clue. When someone says ‘Marcus’, I instinctively respond to ‘my’ name without hesitation. My fear now is losing it back to him and ending up back in Ann Arbor building websites and working for another little company.
Visit Number One
Marcus’ rehab clinic called, letting me know I can visit on Saturday and take him off campus for lunch. I confirm I’ll be there at noon and to let him know. On the way there, I stop by my house and change from his clothes into my typical Levis and t-shirt but keep the leather jacket on. I also wear my Michigan baseball cap to hide my new haircut. Marcus’ clothes are put in a duffle bag and hidden in the trunk to change back into later.
There are a lot of rules to agree to before Marcus is allowed out for the afternoon. He’s limited to a 10 mile area and no alcohol, drugs or cigarettes of any kind. A big male nurse brings him out to me and we jump in the BMW.
“You’re not getting out?” Is the first question I ask.
“Fuck no, I’m stuck here for 90 days at least according to my therapist. My fucking lawyer says it was a last minute change and that he even told me. I was so drunk the last time we talked, that I probably forgot the conversation.”
“Great, I was confused when the clinic called about lunch, figuring they meant taking you home. What about work? They’re expecting you on Monday.”
“I know, I know, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for with Coleman. I was thinking we could swap places and you stay here but this ankle bracelet doesn’t come off.” He lifts his leg to show me.
“Jesus, you’re under house arrest bro. I could have, would have. I was laid off from my job a few days ago. We were bought out by Tyco months ago and when I refused to move to Philadelphia for them, they laid me off.” He’s not the only good liar in the family.
“So what are you going to do?” Marcus asks.
“Well, I got a 9 months severance, even have some leads on jobs, so I’m in no hurry yet.”
“Bro, this is perfect! Go into work as me, cover for me.” I knew he’d come up with that on his own. Internally I’m smiling but outwardly, I look gravely concerned.
“Oh come on bro, this isn’t college, this would be your life. This would be for months. How do I learn your job by Monday morning?”
“Michael, we’re both marketing majors, you have all my files on my laptop, all you have to do is clean yourself up, put on one of my suits and go in. It’ll be easy, like when we swapped for the summer in college.”
“You’re comparing this to college? We swapped boyfriends for a few months.”
“Yeah, it’ll be easy. I’m starting a new position with a new creative team that barely know me.”
“What about your coworkers, friends, neighbors and boyfriends? Your phone has been going crazy with people calling, offering condolences and wanting to send flowers. I spoke to Liam and Chad a few times, they’re worried about me, I mean you and our dad’s death. That lie traveled really far and fast.” I’m as good of a liar as Marcus.
“Oh, it was probably my buddy Jason, he’s as bad as a woman.” He chuckles.
“So Jason knows you really well, right? As soon as I fuck up, he’ll figure out I’m not you.”
“No, he has no clue I even have a brother, let alone a twin. He’ll have no reason to suspect you’re not me.”
“What about everyone else?”
“I’ll write down everything you need to know about my life. Pull into that Dollar Store and grab a tablet. Do you have my computer with you?”
“No, it’s in my living room along with your phone, wallet and jewelry.” I pull into the store and we grab all that’s needed. I throw everything at him and he starts writing feverishly while I look for a place to eat in this little town. We settle on a Sonny’s BBQ and get a table in the corner away from everyone. I keep my baseball cap on so Marcus doesn’t notice my haircut that actually looks better than his’.
He’s quietly chatting and writing the entire time, only taking time to eat his BBQ ribs and drink some ice tea. He’s drawing floor plans, scribbling names with notes and paragraphs of information.
“Ok, here’s everything you need to know.” Marcus announces proudly and pushes papers towards me. “It’s in groups of work, friends and boyfriends.”
“Great, tell me about my new boyfriends, tricks or ‘friends with benefits’.”
“Ha, Let’s start with the important people, those closest to me.”
“Do you have a little black book I can use?” I beg.
“Focus! Jason is my closest friend, followed by Mark. We do happy hours, work out, work together, golf, road trips, and watch football on weekends.” Marcus gets very serious.
“I need to have a little ‘fun’ bro.” I whine.
“Here’s everything you need to be me with them.” He responds with attitude then passes me sheets labeled ‘Friends/Boyfriends’. He has their names listed, how they met, quirks, habits, hobbies, interests. Then he hands me a ‘Coleman’ sheet.
“For work, Robert Coleman hired me, mentored me and I’m like the son he’s never had. He’s been easing out of the business, letting Adam Trappe assume more responsibility. I’m next in line for Adam’s President position next.”
Marcus has detailed notes for all managers I’ve been interacting with for weeks. This gives me even more information that only the real Marcus would know. I use this to fire off more questions about my new life and the information just flows from him to me.
“What about ‘my’ sex life bro? I need a boyfriend or boytoy. You have to have one based on texts and phone calls I’m trying to respond to. Oh, and the pics in your phone, fuckkkk.” I smile at him.
“No serious boyfriend so you’re safe. Chad, who you’ve talk to is latest. We met at an art showing for our common friend Peter. I fucked him in the back office of the gallery the first night and hook up weekly at least. He’s great in the sack.”
“I looked at his pics on your phone. He looks amazing.”
He goes on about Liam, Jim and Dennis, filling in a lot of blanks. Then he talks about Jason and his straight guy friends. About half the information is not new to me but the rest is great. Marcus fills in a lot of personal history about people, things like how they met, jokes they share, likes/dislikes and habits. A lot of the little things Marcus knows, are now part of my identity and strengthen my identity as Marcus Thomas.
“So how is the Clinic treating you? Making progress?” I ask.
“The last two weeks was me shaking, having withdrawals and night sweats. I would kill for a drink right now. There’s group therapy every day before lunch, then after lunch are the one-on-one sessions. Dinner is at 6pm and the rest of the day is ours. There’s TV and complete library but no phones or internet.”
“What about your lawyer, record and trial? How does that work?” I probe.
“I get a weekly, 10 minute call. He says the 3 months of treatment may be counted as 3 months of jail time but I could still get real jail time of up to 5 years.”
“What about you driving? You’ll have a record.”
“It’s too early to know. I’m hoping I do 3 months here, have limited driving rights and no jail time. He’s also working on getting the arrest record expunged.”
“You have a lot riding on this lawyer, do you want me to contact him?”
“No, but check my mail for any of his bills and pay them. My bank login information is here, but it should be saved on my iMac.”
“What if I’m caught?” Not that I would but just want to play up my concern.
“Are you joking? You won’t be. With all this information and your looks, you’ll pull off my identity easily. Have fun at work Marcus.” He hands over his life to me.
I drop Marcus off but don’t go inside. It’s another 6 hour drive home with a quick stop in Ann Arbor to change into Marcus for another month. The entire drive home my mind is spinning with what just happened. My brother has turned over his life to me and I don’t have to worry about the last two weeks. Once I’ve changed back into my ‘Marcus’ outfit and driving the BMW, I only think of myself as him. I start thinking of work and upcoming projects, working out with Jason and lunch at Merit using my new membership.
The Better Marcus
The Ballis Automotive rebranding campaign kicked off a few weeks ago to rave reviews. Robert storms into my office all excited because we’ve been nominated for a number of Association of National Advertisers B2 awards. Just to be nominated is a huge honor even if you don’t win. The Ballis campaign was nominated for the categories of ‘Web Presence’, ‘Branding’, ‘Employer Branding’ and ‘Product Relaunch’. The B2 award gala will be held at the end of the month, at the Sheraton Grand which is less than a mile from our office.
Marcus may have done the initial work on the overall proposal, but I’m the one who reworked the website and branding portions at the last minute. I’ve always been the more creative one. Robert is convinced this will catapult Coleman to the top for Chicago marketing. When Robert leaves, I look out the window, overlooking Michigan avenue and look at myself in the reflection. A deep sense of accomplishment and satisfaction hits me—I’m a better Marcus for sure.
“Is your head swollen? Will it fit through the door?” Jason comes running into my office after hearing the ANA news.
“No, you better call building maintenance so they can enlarge the door so I can get out.” I turn around, he high fives me and I smack the back of his head for his comment.
“Ouch, you fucker! We’re heading up to 95th.”
“For sure, just give me a few minutes to finish up here. I’ll meet you there.”
I finish up some emails, then think about Marcus getting all the credit for my hard work. He’d have no problem sitting here with the award on the desk, showing it off, bragging while not having a clue what went into it. Thinking of this, just pisses me off. I’m not going to let him do this, he’s been taking things from me our entire life.
Happy hour is insane and even Jason notices I’m back to drinking ‘like a ho’. The whole office is here including Robert and Adam. Robert pulls me, Gary, and Adam aside to let us know that we have a table for the black tie gala, we’re all attending in a few weeks and it’s black tie. It’s a huge celebration for just the simple nominations.
I text Chad and he joins us then drives me back to his place for the night. This helps a lot since, like Jason, I had no clue where he lives. Sex with him is great. I don’t even mind him being a screamer, especially when he’s screaming out ‘Marcus’. Fucking him as Marcus is such a turn on for me, that I usually explode upon hearing my new name. I figured out, based on emails that Marcus dated him for about 6 weeks, and I’ve been at it for 4 weeks. Like everyone else I interact with, he’s clueless to the switch.
Two weeks later ‘team Coleman’, as we’re now calling ourselves, is at the Gala dressed to the nines. I spent about $9,000 at Tom Ford for a new Tuxedo and accessories. There is a Brooks Brothers tuxedo in the back of my closet but wearing it would be out of character for Marcus. It was a brilliant night for Coleman and Ballis, winning ‘Web Presence, Employer Branding and Branding’—all areas that I created, not Marcus. Robert hands me one of the awards and has me talk about the web presence concept. Chad films it for my Instagram. We go back to my place to celebrate with more sex but I leave early for my lunch with my brother tomorrow in Cleveland.
The next morning I spend hours at the DMV getting my new Illinois drivers license. I walk in as Michael Thomas from Ann Arbor, Michigan and walk out as Marcus Thomas of Chicago Illinois. I managed to find the same shirt Marcus used for his license, and wore it for my new pic. Putting both side by side, the only difference is the license number itself. At home I log into all of my accounts, like banking, work, travel and update them with my new drivers license number. My old wallet and my brother’s license are locked in my safe and I change the passcode. The new driver’s license replaces the old one like i’ve replaced Marcus.
I’m shamelessly using ‘my’ Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat and TikTok just like my brother. Whether I’m at happy hour, the gym or out on a date, I’m posting and bragging about my life.
Visit Number Two
Six weeks have passed since my brother went into rehab and I assumed his identity and life. I’m firmly in place as Marcus, acquiring his friends and career—basically his entire life is now mine. I’m a better version of Marcus Thomas. This time I don’t change my clothes or identity to visit him. On purpose, I’m in one of his favorite outfits, that was well documented on his Instagram. I’m there early and he’s waiting in the lobby for me. He jumps up when he sees me.
“Michael, you’re early.” Using a name I haven’t responded to in weeks.
“Come on bro, let’s go, I’m starving.” I sign him out with the front desk.
We jump into the car and head to the Sonny’s again. I bring in my briefcase and computer into restaurant with me, to have him help me with some account information. The hostess looks at us oddly, probably wondering if we’re twins. Marcus looks horrible with an overgrown stubble and long hair while I’m the epitome of Marcus Thomas.
“Wow, don’t you look all spiffy in my clothes.” Marcus stares at me.
“Yeah, I didn’t realize you were such a fashionista but I’m starting to appreciate it. You approve of my outfit?” I adjust my sleeves in my suit coat.
“Ah yeah, because it’s one of my favorite outfits—Hugo Boss, my Omega watch and even my Prada shoes. Why so dressed up?” He notices the details.
“Yeah, I saw it on ‘my’ Instagram and loved it.” I’m wearing his Hugo Boss tan glen plaid suit with wine color dress shirt, and Prada lace up derbies. I duplicated it exactly from his pics on Instagram. “I thought I’d show you how much I look like you with hair done, in one of your outfits you. Don’t worry, I take off the jacket and hang it in the car while driving.”
“Just make yourself at home, in my home and my life.”
“Actually it’s my life Michael. Your friends and coworkers haven’t noticed anything different about me. It’s been really easy being Marcus.” I smile at him, giving him my identity and he doesn’t say a word.
“I can see why. You’re the spitting image of me, even the hair now.” He acknowledges.
“Yeah I had to get a haircut of course. Learning your job, friends and life was challenging but I’m you.”
“What about Chad?” He questions.
“Oh my god, I’ve had more sex as you than I had in the past year. You’re still dating Chad and Liam visited. They’re both incredible in bed.” I grin devilishly at him.”
“You’ve slept with both of them?”
“Yeah, Liam was in town for work, called and we had lunch, then sex but he’s back in Detroit. I’ve been ’dating’ Chad regularly and he’s blast too.”
“Wow you have replaced me. I’m so horny and jealous. They didn’t notice a difference?”
“Only that I was better in bed!” I boast.
“Oh shut the fuck up!”
“So how is it going with rehab? Making progress?” I ask sincerely.
“I would give you a million dollars for a beer right now. I finally started sleeping normally but the cravings don’t end. The other day I had an incident with my doctor when I rejected some pills to calm me down. I threw the bottle in a fit and pills flew across the room. They ended up injecting me with a needle instead and I was out for 12 hours.”
“I never noticed your drinking issue. In college you were no different than anybody else.”
“It happened after college with the job, daily happy hours and binge drinking.”
“I can relate now because Jason wants to do the 95th every night.”
“How is he doing? I miss hanging out with him.” Marcus sadly asks.
“He’s doing great, seeing a girl he met at a football game. He claims she’s the one.”
“Ha, yeah he says that with every new girl. I give it 4 weeks max.” He laughs a little.
“What’s the lawyer saying?” I ask seriously.
“It’s not good.” He’s down again. “He’s trying but not having any luck. He also says I have ‘at least’ three months here, that it could be longer.”
“Jail time?”
“3 to 7 years.” He says soberly.
“Fuck bro! Fuck!!” I was a little loud and some people heard me.
“Yep, I’m fucked for sure. Even 3 years in jail will kill me.”
“I’m sorry bro. I don’t know what to say.” I respond very quietly.
“It’s out of my control, nothing I can do. I just have to hope my lawyer is worth all the money I’m paying him. I don’t want to think about it.” Marcus sighs in defeat. “How is my life, you certainly have my look nailed.”
“The first few weeks were sketchy, learning your job, habits and people who know you. You didn’t mention your gym membership and working out with Jason. He noticed that when I missed our ‘normal’ workout. Then I messed up when I was clueless about Nikomahs Casino, your first major success.”
“But has anyone discovered you, questioned you?”
“Look at me.” I lean back in the chair and run my hand through my hair in a typical Marcus gesture. “If our parents couldn’t tell us apart, do you think your friends can? They don’t even know you have a twin, so why would they think I’m anyone but you?”
“That is amazing but I shouldn’t be surprised, it was alway easy for us to swap.”
“I’m you, living your life and loving it. I’m doing one hell of a job.”
“No glitches or problems with people or issues?”
“Not a single person has questioned my identity but there has been some slip ups on my part. The worst moment was my lack of knowledge about the changes to the Nikomahs casino account over the past 6 years, that ‘I’ personally handle. I was so embarrassed but Robert jumped in and filled in the blanks. Afterwards he pulled me aside and asked what’s wrong, that I was not myself. I pulled the ‘mom isn’t well and I can’t focus. It seemed to work but that night I spent hours in the office reviewing every document and email about it.” I confess but lie.
“You can’t possibly know my career history or little details.”
“That’s why you’re going to fill me in on the details. You’re going to fill in the blanks of your life for me.” I pull out his computer from his briefcase.
“Sure, you’ve got 6 more weeks to cover for me.”
“I have to ask…what if you go to jail? What do I do?”
“I don’t know. Resign my job, sell my condo and put everything in storage? Make up some lie, like I’m starting my own business and moving to London.”
“Throw everything away? What if I keep your identity? Robert loves you like a son, and Jason loves you like a brother. They’d be devastated.” I toss it out there to see his reaction.
He gets pissed at me for saying it, I see his anger. “Then fucking live my life, you’ve always been jealous of me. You can be me! It’s the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”
“Well, I hate to tell you this but I’m definitely doing a better job of it.” I get cocky back with him.
“Yeah right, your vast experience of job hopping and creating dinky webpages really qualifies you for my job. Looking like me and actually being me, are two different things.”
“Fuck you. I’m crushing it as you. Robert has noticed a positive change in you since I cut back drinking and even Jason has admitted it’s time for us to drink less.” I fire back at him.
“Fuck you, you may be sitting at my desk, doing my job but you’re not me.”
I open up my acceptance speech video from last night and shove his iPhone in his hand. “I’m actually better than you after only one month. Watch the new Marcus Thomas, ANA B2 award winner.”
He’s just watching in silence, mouth open in disbelief. “You accepted my award for Ballis?”
“No, it’s my award for my work. The meeting was delayed and I reworked about 75% of your proposal, which are what the awards were for.” I boast, he has nothing to say after that.
I open my notebook, pull up the Ballis proposal and shove it towards him. He scrolls through the entire thing, totally silent again.
“So you built on top of what I created. If I had more time, I would have done even better.” He proclaims after reviewing the presentation.
“Oh, give me a fucking break. Your proposal put me to sleep the first time I went through it. Gary and Adam loved my new concept and Ballis was onboard before the meeting ended. Coleman never saw that happen. You’re welcome.”
“I’m not thanking you for shit.” People heard that. He’s going thru his social media on ‘my’ iPhone stunned. “You’re living my life.”
“Like my new Tuxedo? It’s Tom Ford. I didn’t want to wear ‘my’ old Brooks Brothers tuxedo I wore for Mark’s wedding.”
“What did that cost me?” He snidely questions.
“Michael, not your concern little bro. I wanted to look my best for my 15 minutes of fame.”
"My 15 minutes of fame!" He barks again.
“Like I said, I’m being you, including your stupid TikTok and Instagram. It’s what you wanted and it’s exhausting being a narcissist, keeping your ‘fans’ happy.” Actually I’m enjoying the attention and comments but I’m not letting him know.
“Your TikToks are great and I can’t tell the difference in our posts and pics.” He calms down.
“Duh! We’re twins, you do realize that? You better hope I just don’t walk away tomorrow from your life. You’ll be screwed career wise. You’ll be designing dinky websites and taking crappy jobs.”
“You’d never do that, my life is so much better than your’s and you know it. You should be thanking me.”
“Try me. I’m the one doing you a huge favor, remember that!” I threaten him.
I’m in charge after that and we spend hours reviewing files and his work history. He doesn’t hesitate to answer any of my questions. After some quick shopping for clothes for him at Dick’s Sporting Goods, I drop him off at the entrance and head home. The long drive home gives me time for reflect on my new life. I'm really enjoying everything about it. After only 6 weeks, I don’t want to give it up.
More Control
I'm living life exactly as Marcus would. The only difference is that I drink half as much as him. I love hanging with Jason and Mark, golfing, playing basketball and working out with them. I've slipped easily into his circle of friends. There's been a few incidences where I didn't quite catch a joke or references but they're usually drunk and don't notice. In Ann Arbor, I had work friends but outside of that I was a loaner, occasionally dating but nothing ever serious.
Other aspects of his life have fallen into place. I keep his appointment for a haircut with Steve at Halo, a hair salon not far from my place. It was a combination wash, haircut, manicure, eyebrow trim and hand job! As I was leaning back over the sink, he’s massaging both my heads at the same time. I’m wasn’t sure how to react but he whispers in my ear that he gets off at 8pm and he’d get me off by midnight if I pick him up. I play it cool as he makes out with me at the same time.
When I leave Halo, I post my shocked looked on Instagram. I pick him up at 8, take him out to eat, then back to my place. This is a regular haircut for my brother since he leads me back to my bedroom, wraps a condom from my drawer on me and rides it all night long. Marcus’ sex life is way better than mine and Steve doesn’t notice a difference just like Chad and Liam. I call Jason to apologize for blowing off Side Tracks but as soon as I say ‘haircut’, he calls me a slut and tells me how jealous he is. I’m grateful to Steve for the sex and for tidying up grooming details like my eyebrows and cuticles.
I'm officially 'exclusive' with Chad but having too much fun with all this new attention. I’ve scheduled a trip to Detroit for a weekend with Liam. What can I say? He’s tight, fun and just my type. Chad thinks I'm going to a marketing conference in Detroit. Chad is great eye candy for my management to see me with and he’s as fun as Liam in bed. He’s been dating me longer than he did my brother but I don't see much of a future with him. Chad adds credibility to me as Marcus and I still explode when he screams out 'Marcus' as I ram his tight hole. The sex is awesome.
My job is going so well. I believe, no, I know I'm being groomed to be president, taking over Adam's spot. At least once a week, I do lunch with Adam and Robert where we talk about the future of Coleman and of Robert stepping back. They've both notice a change for the better in me, saying I'm more focused, more of a leader and creative.
Financially, I'm spending more than Marcus normally would but I did need a new tuxedo for the ANA, and joining the Merit Club wasn't cheap but it is a legit business expense for my taxes. I met with my Fidelity advisor, Andrew Gingerich, which is something Marcus never did in person, and never took an interest in his money. Good old Marcus, as usual, he only cared that he was making money. My advisor was happy to meet with me and help with diversifying my portfolio. In just the last month, my costs have dropped while my returns have increased significantly.
One thing no one at Coleman noticed about the old Marcus is his embezzling of corporate funds over the years. We're talking about $500,000 per year that magically moved from marketing to his own personal Fidelity checking account via a Cayman account. No wonder his could just plop down $120,000 for his new BMW and $30,000 for his Merit Club membership. My brother would have eventually been caught and really ended up in jail. It took a while to unravel the money trail but then I returned it to Coleman, making sure it looks like a simple accounting error. My net worth has dropped by about $2m but more importantly, I have leverage over my brother.
Visit Number Three
It’s going to be a day of reckoning for my brother. I’ve been him for 10 weeks, making this our longest identity swap and also a lot more complex than when we were in college. I pick him up and head to our usual Sonny’s BBQ. Marcus doesn’t say a word during the short drive and he looks good but not happy at all.
“So what’s with the silence?” I carefully ask.
“Oh nothing really, just another month of rehab followed by 3 to 7 years in jail.”
“What? What the hell happened?”
“My worthless lawyer and a judge, with a stick up his ass for 4th time offenders.”
“Wow, I didn’t expect jail time for you. Can you appeal it?”
“Yes, and I could get parole in a few years.”
“When do you go to jail?”
“In about two weeks.”
In a small way, I feel bad for him then I think of his previous incidents, and him embezzling from his employer who adores him. He had it made financially just on his salary alone with no need to steal a penny. After a few fleeting thoughts like that, reality comes back and I think he’s not getting close to what he deserves. I’m also thrilled at the thought of keeping his life for myself.
“So you go straight to jail? No probation, no time in between?”
“The police will pick me up right here, the prison is in Jackson, Michigan. It’s for white collar criminals and addiction with continuing counseling.”
“Fuck man, fuck! What are you going to do?” I vent.
“How about we swap places and you do me a little favor.”
“Oh yeah, that sounds like a plan, especially with that nice ankle bracelet you’re wearing. Do you still have urges to drink?”
“In all honesty, after I got the news of jail time, I wished I was at the 95th, downing shots with Jason.”
“Well, it’s quite a lot to accept. That’s normal.”
“You’ll probably be let out early. It’s not like you killed someone.”
“Yeah, my lawyer agrees with you on that, but still, three years in jail.”
“What about your life and job?”
“Just quit my job, pack everything up and put it in storage.” He says it too easily.
“Throw it all away?”
“Yeah and when I get out, I’ll be doing websites and marketing for ‘Sammy’s Garage’ in Ann Arbor like you.” He laughs at his put down.
“Maybe you will be, in fact, you probably will, but I won’t. I’ve grown accustom to your life.”
“You’re moving to a big city and getting a real job? Oh yeah, I so see that happening.” He mocks me.
“Already a done deal bro, not giving it up.”
“Are you saying, you’re keeping my life?”
“Why not? I’m the better Marcus, my coworker Adam says I’ll be promoted to his spot in a few months when Robert retires. Look at me bro, I’m you without the drinking problem. I’m set for life—great salary, boyfriends, great friends, awesome condo and hot car.”
“Why not? Why not? Are you fucking insane? First, it’s not your life, it’s mine. Second, I won’t let you do it.”
“I’ve been thinking about this and it makes complete sense. I need a job, I’m perfect for it and I’m a natural. No one has a clue I’m not you, thanks to my looks and your coaching.”
“I’ll have my lawyer make sure you don’t, you’ll go to jail for fraud. I’ll claim I had no clue what you were doing.”
“I don’t think so bro, unless you want to spend more time in jail for embezzling funds.”
“What?” He looks shocked.
“I know you have millions hidden in accounts all around the world. I bet Coleman would love to know how you screwed them.”
“How did you find out?”
“Oh come on bro, I’m not stupid. I looked at your tax returns and even if you saved every penny, you’d be lucky to have $3m in the bank. Then there’s mysterious deposits from and to an account in the Caymans. It took a little sleuthing but with my degree in finance, it started to make sense. Then when ‘my’ buddy Javier called from the Caymans, it all fell into place.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I told you, I’m taking over your life. As you mentioned, it’s pretty sweet, I’m good at it and you were right, I was a little jealous.”
“You fucking bastard.” He curses under his breath.
“Calm down bro, it’s not too bad. You can’t use it, you won’t need it for a few years. It’s going to be our little secret from now on. Oh and it’s permanent too, so even when you do get out, don’t come asking for your life back.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I have gotten away with this for months now. By the way, if something happens to me, I’ve made arrangements to blow this wide open and you will be back in jail. Also, Javier is no longer helping me, I put an end to your scheme.” His mouth is hanging up.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to your own brother.”
“Ha! Seriously, you’re playing the brother card? My brother who calls once or twice a year, who I haven’t seen in years and who keeps me secret. Nice try.” I laugh and mock him.
Marcus just sits there saying nothing, staring at his ribs. I can see he’s seething and thinking of his options. He’s just got to realize it’s checkmate and accept it.
“Bro, I’m doing you a huge favor. Your reputation remains intact and it’s actually gotten better with me in charge. I’m now well known in the marketing world. It’s best for both of us but it’s only fair that I benefit the most. When you get out, I’ll be here to help you get on your feet, hell, I’ll give your plenty of start up money and as me, you can create your own company even. You’ve got time to plan it.”
“Fine!” He blurts out defeated.
“Bro, I’ll come see you in prison, keep you updated on things. You’ll be fine, we’ll both be fine.”
We finish our lunch and he doesn’t say a word the entire drive back. We pull up front, I walk him in and give him a hug.
“Cya bro.” Are my last words to him. I take my time driving back to my new life in Chicago.
THE END
#twin#stolen identity#imposter#body switch#male body swap#body swap#bodyswap#gay men#impersonation#transformation#transform
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Who do you think I am? Of course I want to go sledding.”
jimin x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.1K
a/n: Hi, lovelies! Here we have Jimin and Dear/reader deciding to go on a spontaneous sledding adventure but like hardly...?? This is actually roughly based on a sledding adventure I had with two of my friends in college in which we had to go buy a sled just to ride down a hill behind the Grease Monkey a few times before getting too cold and rushing back to one of our apartments. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and as always, thanks so much for reading! :))
IT felt as though the day had slipped away in the matter of minutes. One moment you were cuddling with your boyfriend in bed, reluctant to leave the warmth the of the blankets, and the next you were sprawled out on the couch, Jimin’s head resting on your abdomen as he relaxed between your legs, the moon illuminating the night sky.
You both had the day off work and decided to spend it inside the confines of your apartment, lazing about as you watched one Christmas film after the other. Though the break from every day responsibilities was much needed, you and Jimin were both left feeling as though you didn’t properly use your time together.
“Ah,” Jimin groaned, turning is face from the tv screen to rest his chin on your stomach, looking up at you to meet your eyes as you peered at him curiously. “We should have done something fun,” he whined, you giving him a sad smile.
“We were tired,” you reminded him.
“We’re not anymore,” he pointed out. “Are you?” His eyes widened cutely, making you smile down at him.
“Not really,” you affirmed. The man huffed just as you placed your hand to his hair, brushing your fingers through the soft strands. “What do you want to do, Chim?”
You were met with a groan instead of an answer, a light giggling leaving your lips in response. “I don’t know,” he complained, pushing his face against your stomach as he continued whining against your sweatshirt top, your hand still soothing through his hair.
As you stared down at him adoringly, Jimin popped his head up as he shot you an enthusiastic expression, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar. “There’s snow outside,” he said simply, a smile tugging at your lips.
“There is,” you confirmed.
“Dear,” he started, his hand moving awkwardly to find your knee, just to squeeze your thigh above your kneecap. “Would you want to go sledding with me?”
Eyes widening, you looked down at him in surprise. “At 9 pm?” You asked, the man nodding.
“That isn’t too late, is it?” He asked.
Sitting up at bit, you gawked at him. “Who do you think I am?” You asked, a smirk appearing on Jimin’s face as he awaited your answer. “Of course I want to go sledding,” you finished, watching as your boyfriend’s smile widened stunningly.
Rolling off of you and the couch, he fell to the floor in a thud before crawling toward your face and grabbing your cheeks excitedly. Before you could do anything else, the man’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you with enthusiasm and love, you easily reciprocating the action as you kissed him back.
However, the meeting was broken in haste when Jimin jumped up from the floor and reached for your hands, tugging you off the sofa in an instant. He was a whirlwind as he ran from the living room to the bedroom to the hallway closet and back to the bedroom, gathering winter clothing. Watching him for a moment in amusement, you made your way to the front door to begin putting your boots on, deciding your sweatpants and sweatshirt would be good enough for a night of sledding.
As you tied the laces of your snow boots, Jimin appeared in front of you, arms full of a variety of gloves, scarves, and hats. “Options,” he told you as you dropped them to the floor at your feet, you giggling at his excessiveness.
“What a guy,” you teased, “he gives me five different glove options, what does your man do for you?” You playfully bragged to no one, Jimin giggling shyly as he reached for his own shoes.
“Will you be warm enough in that,” he nodded to your attire, you simply nodding back. “Dear,” he nagged.
“I’ll be fine,” you assured him, the man looking at you skeptically. “Put your shoes on,” you chuckled, Jimin rolling his eyes at you as he followed your command.
Picking out items from Jimin’s haul, you both found yourselves bundled up and ready to sled. Holding the door open for you, you slipped under Jimin’s arm, heading out to the car when Jimin halted you with a small, “Oh.”
Turning to look at him, you awaited his reasoning for stalling in the doorway. “We don’t have a sled,” he informed you, you looking from your own empty arms to his before a wide smile overtook your face. A joyous cackle left your boyfriend’s lips, followed by your own, as you both stood in the hallway gasping for air over your unpreparedness and idiocy. “What the hell did we think we were gonna sled on?” He questioned you both through his laughter, you stepping toward him to hit his chest lightly to try to get him to stop so you could catch your breath. Jimin fell against your frame, your arms wrapping around his body and plush winter gear as his curled around your waist.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, your laughter still filling the otherwise silent hallway. “Should we go buy one?”
“How about this one?” Jimin asked you, holding up the plain looking sled, nothing special, just a hunk of plastic that was just big enough for the two of you.
“Jimin, my love,” you started, the man looking at you with hysterically wide eyes. “It’s the only sled here,” you pointed out, the man’s face immediately contorting into one of laughter, his eyes squeezing shut, causing you both to completely lose your shit in the kid’s aisle of the department store.
Grabbing the inside of his elbow, you started leading him through the aisles, Jimin holding the sled over his head as you both continued to let out stray giggles, unable to completely stop laughing.
By the time you made it out of the store and Jimin was throwing the sled into the backseat of the car as you climbed into the passenger seat, you both seemed to realize something at once. When your boyfriend opened the driver side door and shot you another wide-eyed expression, you snorted as you attempted to hold back your life.
“Do you know where any hills are?” He asked as you as you began answering immediately, the two comments overlapping each other’s.
“I have no idea where any hills are,” you giggled the man leaning forward, resting his elbows on top of the seat as he dropped his head in defeat and laughter.
“Spontaneity doesn’t look good on us,” he commented, looking up at you with an adorable smile only making you laugh further.
“Sure it does,” you disagreed, looking around your surroundings. “Get in,” you nodded to him. “We’re going to find a fucking hill if it takes all night,” you added, the man cratering, his chest falling to the car seat as he laughed at you.
“Aye, aye, captain,” he nodded, standing up straight and jumping into the car.
Starting down the street, neither of you actually expected to find a hill, but you found enjoyment in the drive instead. Joking with each other and laughing loudly overtop the music that played from your phone, the night was perfect. You stared at Jimin fondly as the streetlights illuminated his face in brief strobes as he drove underneath their brightness, his smile never leaving as he giggled at everything you said.
He was stunning. Still as gorgeous as the night you met him under the club lights, and even more so. And though Jimin gave his laughter out as a gift to nearly everyone he encountered, leaving tokens of his kindness everywhere he went, it was still an honor to earn such laughter from the man. Even after all that time.
Peeling your eyes from his features, you turned to the car window, your eyes widening as he drove past a park with a small hill that rolled into the grassy field that was covered in snow. “Oh my god, hill,” you pointed through the glass, Jimin whipping his head in your direction.
“No fucking way,” he spoke in disbelief. “Holy shit, that’s a hill,” he repeated, you giggling as he quickly pulled the car over onto the side of the rode, parking it instantly. “That’s a hill,” he said once again in excitement.
“It’s a hill,” you squealed happily just before Jimin placed his hands against the sides of your face and pulled you into a giddy kiss, messy with excitement and unhindered enthusiasm.
Breaking the kiss, he made eye contact with you before quirking his eyebrows. “Come on,” he whispered, triggering you both to exit the car at lightspeed, you hurrying toward the hill as Jimin followed.
Turning around to look at him, you threw your head back in laughter, Jimin halting in confusion. “Chim, the sled,” you reminded him breathlessly, Jimin’s eyes widening quickly in realization as a sigh left him.
“Fuck,” he whisper-shouted, taking a sharp turn back to the car to retrieve the sled. You continued to the hill, jogging ahead of him as Jimin called your name as he ran toward you, trying to catch up.
When you reached the bottom of the hill, Jimin ran into you playfully, his chest crashing against your back as his free arm draped over your shoulder. “Ah, it’s glorious,” he yelled out, you giggling at the comment as he nuzzled his face against the side of your neck, nudging your skin with his nose affectionately. “Race you to the top,” he suddenly whispered before bolting away from you, you squealing at him as you started sprinting ahead.
He easily beat you up the hill, standing there proudly with a hand on his hip as he nodded down at the sled that was already set up for you both. “M’lady,” he smirked, you rolling your eyes before stepping toward the sled.
“If you let this go I will kill you,” you warned, the man chuckling in response as you stepped into the sled, scooting to the front as Jimin prepared to crawl in behind you.
“I would never,” he teased, you scoffing.
“You absolutely would,” you noted, Jimin giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you settling back against him.
“Ready?” He asked, you nodding as he placed a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Three,” he began counting down, “two, one,” he finished, trying to scoot you both off the hill, only to get stuck on the edge in an anticlimactic fail.
Bursting into cackles, Jimin giggled near your ear as he continued trying to nudge you both down the hill. “Oh come on,” he complained just as the sled took off, his whining turning into a yell as you both screamed down the rather small hill. It really wasn’t much, the ride only lasting a few seconds before you reached the bottom.
The sled slammed into a halt at the end of the hill, Jimin’s body lunging forward against your own, causing you both to roll off the sled into the snow as your breathless forms flailed in laughter.
“That was so pathetic,” you shouted through your laughs, Jimin rolling toward you so his body was curled up against your own, you turning into him as well so you were facing each other.
“Ah, fuck,” he breathed out, trying to control his amusement. Noticing the shiver that caused your teeth to chatter briefly, his eyes widened in concern. “Are you sure you’re not gonna get cold?” He asked you, you nodding. Eyeing you suspiciously, you held back a smirk. “You’re already cold aren’t you,” he realized, holding back his own grin.
“Fucking freezing,” you chuckled, the man smiling widely as he shook his head at you, adorable giggles tumbling from his lips.
“Let’s get you home, Dear,” he spoke through his light snickering. “I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”
“My hero,” you cooed, leaning forward to catch his lips in a chaste kiss. “What would I do without you?” You asked teasingly, the man shrugging.
“Probably freeze,” he joked back, you both giggling even more against each other’s lips. “Did we really just buy a sled to go down a tiny hill one time?” He asked in amusement, you pulling away from him to first inspect his face before turning to look at the hill, and then the sled that sat next to you both.
“We sure did,” you confirmed, Jimin’s pretty smile gracing you with its presence once more as he leaned back toward you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Chim and Dear antics,” you told him, Jimin laughing as he rolled on top of you and kissing you deeply.
And though your body began to shiver a bit more as you kissed him slowly, warmth could wait a little while longer. Being with him in that moment, the snow already soaking your clothing, was perfection. You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
#jimin#jimin x reader#jimin x oc#jimin fluff#jimin drabble#jimin drabbles#jimin scenario#jimin scenarios#jimin oneshot#jimin oneshots#jimin fanfic#jimin fanfics#jimin fic#jimin fics#jimin imagine#jimin imagines#park jimin#bts#bts jimin#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts fluff#bts drabbles#bts scenarios#bts oneshots#bts fanfics#bts fics#bts imagines#bts reactions#christmas fics
156 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello darkness, my old friend
This story is dedicate to my friend @walkxthexmoon as a very late birthday present 😘 It’s modern day AU where Ivar and Roman are vampires 😏
The moodboard was made by talented @flowers-in-your-hayr
As always English isn’t my first language and this is my first time writing for Bill/Roman so I hope it doesn’t suck too much...
Warning: swearing, killing, oral sex, definitely 18+
Word account: 2246
Paring: Ivar x reader, Roman x reader
„I should go home“ you thought to yourself. You lost your friend Julia somewhere in the crowd. As you knew her, she will text you any minute, saying that she met a cute boy and you should not wait for her. Fucking typical. She was having fun and you were sitting here all alone sipping your beer and being bored. Unlike you friend you weren’t the biggest fan of one-night stands, plus there was nobody here who caught your attention tonight. Well, it wasn’t exactly true. You saw your two hot neighbors Ivar and Roman when you and Julia came here two hours earlier, but you wouldn’t dare to start anything with them. They were dangerous; people were avoiding them and their house. Nobody knew what they did for a living, but they both seemed very rich, so it probably was something illegal, because you have never seen them leave their house during the daytime hours. All of your friends told you to stay away from them and to never forget to lock your house at night. You felt that danger and mystery radiating from them too, but unlike your friends you felt yourself being drew to them like a mouth to a flame. You kept your distance, because you listened to your brain which was telling you to stay away from them, but your heart wanted to knock on that dark red door of their house and see what will happen next. And it seemed that they also noticed you. Sometimes you found Ivar looking at you, his deep blue eyes burning holes into you, his soft lips were smirking, but his smile was cruel, almost mocking, but you found it very sexy. Every time when he caught you staring at him, his smirk grew bigger and you felt your heart pumping in your chest. And sometimes it seemed to you like if he could hear it, which was extremely stupid thought. Tonight you felt Roman staring at you from across the room. His green eyes never left your figure, eyeing you from head to toe, making you shiver and blush deeply. He looked like a predator watching his little innocent prey, making it feel at ease before snapping its neck and having it for dinner. Later you noticed him talking with some petite blond girl and judging by that amazed look on her face, Roman would get lucky tonight. You couldn’t help yourself and felt jealous, which was stupid, considering that you never even talked to him in person. You groaned and tried to find him again, but he was nowhere to be seen. He probably already left with that blond girl and you will hear her moans and screams from their house later tonight. It always made you so angry when you could hear the girls screaming their names. You looked around again, trying to find a glimpse of Ivar, but you didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he left with Roman and the girl, you knew that they had threesomes with the girls, because sometimes you heard the girls calling both of their names.
“I need a cigarette” you thought to yourself and went outside to the dark alley next to the club. You lighted your cigarette and but almost dropped it, when you looked to your right. You saw Roman leaning against the cold wall, his eyes closed and that petite girl kneeling in front of him and giving him a blowjob. You were shocked. Of course this dark place was a hiding spot for a lot of horny couples, but you did not expect to find Roman here. You couldn’t force yourself to stop staring at him. He was so gorgeous, so relaxed, the girl was definitely making him feel good. You should have turn around and leave before he will notice you, but you couldn’t. As always you felt the need to get closer to him, you wanted to yank the girl by her hair and tear her away from him. You suddenly wanted to be the one whose mouth was warming up his cock, you wanted to feel his hand in your hair, guiding you to suck him in the way he likes it, making you choke on his dick, feeling his cum dripping down your throat. It was like if he hypnotized you even though his eyes were still closed.
“See something you like, doll?” a deep voice whispered into your ear and you gasped in shock. You wanted to turn around but you felt strong arm wrapped around your waist and another around your neck.
“Don’t be afraid, doll. I won’t hurt you. Tell me, my cute little neighbor, do you enjoy watching my buddy Roman getting his cock sucked by that slut?” he asked darkly and squeezed your neck.
You felt like if you lost your sanity, because you should be scared shitless, but you felt aroused by the proximity of Ivar’s body, his dirty talk and his hand around your neck.
“I am not watching him, I came here to smoke a cigarette,” you pathetically tried to defend yourself.
“You mean this one?” he asked smugly and pointed at your cigarette which at some point slipped from your fingers and was lying on the dirty pavement.
“It was an accident, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything” you tried again.
“Don’t make any more excuses, doll. Maybe your previous intention was to smoke here, but it changed pretty quickly,” he chuckled and you shivered.
“You were thinking how much you would like to be on your knees in front of him, don’t you?” he said and your heart started beating so fast.
“No-o-o!!” you stuttered.
“Liar,” Ivar whispered and his lips touched your ear, this little contact with his skin made your knees go weak and your back leaned closer against his chest.
“Don’t lie to me, doll, I don’t like it,” he warned you while his sinful lips left your ear and moved to your neck.
“Ivar,” you moaned, when he started placing open mouth kisses on your exposed neck, making him smirk against your skin.
“I see, that you know my name,” he noted and kept kissing your neck, bruising the sensitive skin, occasionally biting down on it to make you moan his name again.
“You shouldn’t do this!!” you tried to protest weakly when you felt his strong hand slowly sneaking into your skirt.
“Says who?” he sassed.
“I can smell that your pussy is dripping wet for me, just relax doll. I have very skillful fingers,” he bragged and you were so distracted that you didn’t pay much attention to his confession that he could "smell" you.
“I also have a very skillful tongue, but you will find out later, because unlike that bitch over there, I won’t kneel down on that dirty ground,” he added and his fingers slipped into your panties.
“As I said, you are wet as fuck, doll!!” he said victoriously. And you cried out when his fingers found your clit, and started playing with it slowly. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from moaning loudly when he increased the pressure on your little bud and started rubbing it faster. You quickly looked at Roman but his eyes were still closed and he seemed to be lost in his own pleasure. Somehow Ivar knew that you took a quick glance at Roman and as his long fingers slipped into your dripping pussy he said “his eyes might be closed but he knows about you since the moment you walked out of that door, doll”.
You forget about Ivar for a second and looked again at Roman, but this time his eyes were half opened and he was staring at you with that predatory look in his eyes. You were completely lost in the greens of his eyes, and Ivar noticed that and he didn’t like it one bit.
He bit harder down on your neck, you could have sworn that he drew blood, but you felt like if you were high; then his fingers started pumping into you in fast pace, making you roll your eyes in pure pleasure. You shamelessly moaned his name when you came all over his fingers, you turned around and kissed him, definitely feeling a taste of blood on his lips, but you didn’t care. You felt sudden rush of joy and happiness, and you couldn’t get enough of him. You were climbing him like a tree, ready to start tearing off his clothes. You heard a loud thud behind you, but you didn’t pay it much attention. Roman snapped that girl neck and tossed her aside. He came closer to you and Ivar and tore you away from his friend angrily.
“Why the fuck did you bit her, you asshole!” he growled and you whimpered because he interrupted your kissing fest with Ivar.
“Because I fucking wanted to,” Ivar said and licked his lips.
“She tastes so sweet, Roman. Exactly how she smells - sweet but spicy. There is definitely something about this girl,” he added and smirked at Roman’s pissed of face.
“Relax, it was only a small bite. It will wear off quickly,” but Roman still looked like if he wanted to kill someone, probably his best friend.
“We had a deal!” he growled.
“Yes we had, but it was before you let that blondie suck your dick and left our little neighbor all alone here. She was so lonely, I had to give her company!”
“Yes sure, you are such a great gentleman, Ivar,” he snorted and grabbed your hand.
“Come here, princess,” he pulled you closer to him and grabbed your chin and made you look at him, when you tried to look at Ivar again and you pouted your lips when Roman didn’t let you do it.
“You want Ivar so much, because he bit you, princess. Vampire bites send endorphins through your body. It’s like if you took a very powerful drug. It makes our victims willing to go with us wherever we want them to go without screaming,” he smirked at you when you finally started to process his words. You realized that only two feet away from you lay the girl who was sucking his dick earlier. She was motionless, she seemed… dead. You looked at Roman in horror and you wanted to run away from him, but he was holding you firmly in his arms.
“I think, doll, that it’s only fair for me to have a bite,” he smirked and he looked like angel of death, beautiful but deadly.
“Please don’t kill me!” you begged him, but he laughed.
“Oh, no, princess. We won’t kill you. At least not tonight. We have a lot of things prepared for you at our house. We were watching you for a very long time! We will have so much fun together, princess. But enough talking, I want to taste your blood that smells so deliciously,” he said but he didn’t go straight for your neck, he kissed you first. That kiss was possessive, dominant, his tongue slipped into your mouth while he wrapped his long white hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t know if you were still dazed by Ivar’s bite or if you were completely mental, but you slowly relaxed and melted into his arms, kissing him back hungrily, pulling at his shirt to pull him closer to you since he was much taller than you.
“Such a good little girl,” Roman praised you and you felt your pussy clenched. He started kissing down your throat, his long skinny fingers running up and down your sides, making you shiver when he touched the sides of your boobs.
“Roman,” you moaned desperately and he chuckled while Ivar rolled his eyes.
“Can you hurry, I want to go home.”
“You had your time with her, it’s my turn now,” he said while looking into your eyes, slowly putting his leg between yours, making your already sensitive pussy rubbing against the denim of his jeans. You gasped, when his strong arms grabbed your waist and started sliding you up and down his leg, making you ride it. You felt your second orgasm coming quickly.
“Look at Ivar, princess,” Roman commanded and you obeyed him. Ivar watched you with mixture of jealousy, anger, possessiveness and greed in his blue eyes.
“I want you to keep looking into his eyes when you cum, princess. I could feel that you are very close. Can you do that for me?” he asked and you nodded, unable to say anything coherent. It only took few more movements and you came, moaning Roman’s name, rolling your eyes when he bit down at the other side of your neck, missing the pissed off look on Ivar’s face.
“Come here, doll,” Ivar grabbed your hand and sink his teeth into the wound he already made earlier
“Hey, you asshole, don’t drink too much, she will be too weak and no fun. And we want her to stay with us for as long as possible,” he smirked and bumped into his friend shoulder.
“She will never leave our house again,” Ivar smirked and they both take your hands in theirs and slowly led you towards their home and you were smiling happily, high as a kite, looking at both of them with love sick eyes, knowing that you were always tempted by darkness and tonight that darkness finally found you.
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
Fake dating/marriage + "Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink I might consider talking to you." for Rowaelin PLEASEE
note: thank you for the prompt, love! I'm so sorry this took so long. I'm a little proud of the way it turned out tho. if you'd like to check out my other fics, here's the Masterlist!
--------------
Rowan is exhausted by the time he reaches his apartment—the sleepless nights catching up to him. He has had a bad week and he is looking forward to spending his weekend locked up in his bedroom when the sound of a text makes him groan to himself. Rowan only knows one person who still texts him, aware of his dislike for texting. He pulls his phone out to see a message from Aelin: I need a favour. Rowan is tempted to ignore the message but given her hatred for him, it has to be something important if she asked.
He replies: What have you done now? She is a little hellion after all. Rowan regrets the day he agreed to go on a blind date with her.
Lysandra insisted they go on a date together and he had always thought she was beautiful and he'd agreed. The date had gone horrible as could be. Rowan showed up late because of traffic, the food was cold and tasteless and Rowan managed to forget his wallet home. In hopes of redeeming himself, he proposed a romantic walk around the beach and get ice cream except the ice cream shop was closed and it rained, drenching them both in cold water. As if it wasn't bad enough, his car broke down in the middle of nowhere when he tried to drop her off. Ever since, Aelin texts him after every date to give tips on how to not be a total disaster.
And gods, the woman can get under his skin like no one else ever has.
His phone rings, Aelin's name flashing on his screen before he picks up, grateful that for once she decided not to text. She says by way of greeting, "Look, I ran into my ex and mentioned I have a boyfriend. He thinks I'm shitting him and I need you to come "pick me up" so I can shove our relationship in his face. Pleaseeee?" Rowan isn't sure if he's more annoyed or amused.
He settles on amused. "And why do you need me for this? Why only me?"
Aelin huffs in annoyance and there's complete silence on the other line before she admits, "I bragged a little too much about how hot he is and now, no one fits the bill but you." Yep, definitely amused.
"You think I'm hot?"
"You know you're hot. You shouldn't need me to tell you that." Another huff from her side. "So will you help or not?"
Rowan considers it. The idea of hanging up is tempting but she's desperate. He doesn't need her hating him more. "Maybe, just maybe, if I get a free drink, I might consider talking to you." He sits up, still dressed well enough to pick up his girlfriend. "I'll charge extra for pretending to be a perfect boyfriend."
"Name your price."
Rowan only smiles. "I'll let you know when I get there."
The nightclub Aelin's at is close enough to his apartment that it takes less than fifteen minutes to get there. It's an expensive place for people with lavish tastes—the kind Rowan would never be caught dead at. Everything from drinks to decorations screams Aelin. He's not surprised this is the club she hangs out at. It's as ridiculous and fancy and over-the-top as her. He spots her leaning against a wall, her face turned towards someone.
She wears an off-shouldered black dress with a dangerously high slit in it. Her blonde hair tied in an elegant side bun, she looks prettier than he remembered.
She looks in the middle of a tense, unwanted conversation when Rowan arrived. "Aelin! There you are." He hopes his smile is convincing enough.
Rowan doesn't like the way she looks with her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive manner, her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes trained on the floor. She has shrunk into herself, made herself small and fragile and timid. She looks unlike the fiery spirit who sends him tips on how to plan a good date every so often just out of spite because he fucked up one evening of her life months ago. He decides immediately that he hates whoever makes her feel like this person in front of him because this is certainly not the Aelin he knows.
To his pleasure, Aelin relaxes the moment she notices him. "Rowan! Just the guy I wanted to see." Then she rises on her toes, kissing him on the cheek.
Rowan hoped he looked better than he felt, his insides in a turmoil even once Aelin pulled back. "Sorry I'm late, love. Traffic was insane."
She placed a comforting hand on his arm, jerking her chin towards her companion. "Ro, that's Chaol Westfall. Chaol, this is Rowan. My boyfriend." As if to back her words up, she puts an arm around his waist and pulls him closer. Rowan lets her do as she pleases.
Chaol extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, Rowan. Aelin talks about you a lot."
"Yeah? She didn't mention you much and that's saying something considering we've been dating for almost ten months now." That was around the time the two of them went on that damned date. Chaol couldn't have dated her after the whole thing because thanks to Aelin's insulting little tips, he knows about all the guys she's gone on a date with and if he's as bad as he seems, he'd have remembered Aelin talking about him.
One look at her confirms his suspicions. Aelin quirks an eyebrow when he brings her a drink. You're having too much fun with this whole thing.
Yeah, well, Rowan shrugs, I might as well enjoy this. The guy's an asshole.
Aelin nods, taking another sip of her drink as the three of them decided to sit down for drinks. Rowan is feeling underdressed in this place, especially with Aelin looking like a literal goddess by his side.
Chaol beats around the bush with easy questions about his job and all until: "No offense, Rowan, but you don't seem like Aelin's usual type."
"None taken. People's tastes do tend to improve over time." Aelin chokes on her drink and Rowan feels a little bad for being mean to a man he barely knows but then he remembers the way Aelin looked when he entered and the flushed look on Chaol's face makes his forget about all the shit he's had to deal with this week. He probably shouldn't be having as much fun with this as he is.
Aelin loops an arm around Rowan's. "I think we should go home now." She downs the rest of her shot in one big gulp before rising from her seat.
She turns towards Rowan, eyes shining under the dim lights of the private booth. She smells of alcohol and something sweet and floral—jasmine, maybe?—eyes shining alight with a question he can read in her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. Can I kiss you?Rowan can feel Chaol's eyes fixed on his back but when he nods, he finds that it has little to do with pissing a stranger off and a lot to do with Aelin.
Aelin kisses him and his whole world erupts into fireworks. From the second their lips touch, there's only her and her lips and her hands roving his back and that gods damned scent driving him insane. He doesn't know why she's kissing him but Rowan is not kissing her to piss someone off or to prove a point. He wonders how this evening would've played out if that night hadn't gone to shit—if this kiss would have been real instead of pretend, if they would have lasted ten months. He's terrified of finding out.
Rowan almost groans when he pulls back. The grin on her face strikes him stupid. She whispers in his ear, "How's that for payment?" Aelin grabs his hand, leading him out of the club.
He doesn't spare a look at Chaol, doesn't miss a single beat as he replies: "Hmm, I need more for all the insults I pulled." They are almost outside when Rowan continues, "How about a chance? I want a chance to change your mind. You, me, another date. I'm sorry the last one went as bad as it did and you probably hate me and you're gonna say no, of course—"
"I don't hate you."
He's not sure he heard her right. "Huh?"
"I don't hate you," Aelin repeats. "None of that was your fault. It was a bad day is all. I waited two weeks for you to ask me out again to make up for it though. When you didn't, I took matters into my own hands to text you about the only thing I could think of."
Rowan gapes. "Pardon? You're telling me the whole tips ploy was what? A ruse?" His mouth hangs open.
"To keep us talking, yes. Besides, it was fun pissing you off," Aelin says.
He did always think it was strange how for someone who claimed to be so mad about having wasted one evening on a bad date, she sure spent a lot of time sending him tips and bantering with him over texts afterwards. He had apologized to her numerous times afterwards but he'd never considered that she might still want another date. To think of all the months he'd wasted.
He shakes his head but he's smiling. "Will you go on a date with me, Aelin?"
She chuckles, face brightening. "I can honestly say there's nothing I want more." As the two of them part ways, Aelin kisses him on the cheek. Rowan watches her leave silently, a big smile on his face. No more wasting time, he promises himself.
---------------
I quite like this and I hope you did too. let me know if you'd like to be tagged. If you haven't already, check out my 1K celebration.
Tags:
@thesirenwashere // @judexcardanxgreenbriar //@fangirltrash74 // @the-dark-swan // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover // @justabunchoffandoms // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @didsomeonesayviolin // @atozfantazyxx // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @curlyredqueen06 // @moondancer-204
If any of y'all from this taglist would like to also be tagged in my Acotar fics, please let me know because Acotar will have it's seperate taglist!
#rowan whitethorn galathynius#rowan whitethorn#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass#aelin ashryver galathynius#aelin ashryver#sarah j maas#sjm fandom#kingdom of ash#modern au#aelin-queen-of-terrasen#chaol westfall#tower of dawn#yrene westfall#rowaelin#fanfiction#aelin and rowan#rowan x aelin#headcanons#tog#incorrect tog quotes#tog fandom#tog incorrect quotes
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Bloom In Time Ch24 Accidential New Star
(I had to look up the prices and what the bill document said to get this right.)
Dead Bird Studios.
The place where for YEARS had been the birthplace of creativity and actors on the big screen. And now she was standing right in front of it. The others didn't look so fazed at the big building considering they had been there multiple times before but that didn't stop her from staring up in fascination at it all. It. WAS. HUGE!! WAY bigger than those tall buildings back on the moon. A giant logo sign of a black bird skull and film real decorated the outside on the big front there with the giant words under it reading DEAD BIRD STUDIOS. A parking lot stood between them and the entrance and they were already walking across it towards the entrance. To the far left of them, they could all see a bunch more of those cars parked into the rectangular spaced, not that Poppy was paying attention as they marched across in the hot sun beating down on them all. Poppy would be lying if she wasn't impressed, as she subconciously walked after the small group still walking, the shadow of the building fell over her and she involuntarily sighed feeling the harsh rays of the sun gone for a moment. Still following along after them up to the double doors of the building. The grown lady flinched when they opened on their own as soon as Cookie got near it and mumbled grumpily to herself about forgetting her purse and having to walk all the way back here on her day off of all things helping out and how it was so rude of her to make them all take this detour. Not that anyone minded as the children excitedly ran in past them inside. Poppy glanced wearily at the doors for a moment while passing, jumping a foot forward when it closed by themselves, blue eyes glanced between it and Cookie for a moment before following after the mumbling cat. The long hallway was pretty dark with a black carpet with bird skull patterns with lots of white squares lights barely lighting up the place. With a whoosh noise the doors up ahead opened on their own accord and the three children ran on through and into what looked like a well lit room. As they continued to persue the children down the rest of the hall she thought she heard some squeals of delight but she wasn't too sure yet. When she finally approuched the double pair of doors, they opened again with a whoosh for Cookie and Poppy flinched again...Before blinking and sticking her head into the lit room. A giant white Television set(computor) was sat on the counter which was the first thing she saw, and shiny marble floors reflected the bright lights above. There was a tired looking bird manning the counter as he calmly watched everything around him. Next to him was some kind of giant piece of heavy looking machinery, and as Poppy finally stepped in, she gawked at the sight of GIANT glass cases on either side of the room with shiny copies of trouphies safely sat inside with names of old movie directors of years past. But those only held her attention for a moment, above the trophies on either side were giant framed posters. On the right with a few penguins gathered was a strange looking instrument in disco lights, a ...slime monster??, and some penguin in an astronaut suit. To the right was a more western style of two seperate birds holding guns and a random cactus. Two doors were on either side and two signs by them each saying FILMING IN PROGRESS.
"DARLING!! You're back so soon?," A loud voice boomed out and Poppy yelped dropping her bags of clothing on the floor.
Who the voice belongs to was another moon penguin...But this one looked TOTALLY different from any other penguin she's seen before. He wore a ridiculous outfit with weirder shoes on his feet making him taller than the other penguins by a few inches, and he actually had hair and yellow eye brows styled up into some kind of weirder haircut, and last but certainly not least a giant pair of all black shaped sunglasses over his eyes. His beak was curled up in a smile as he approuched from the small crowd of three girls tailing after him as Cookie walked over to him.
"I wasn't expecting my best best network star to return so soon," he happily addressed her earning him a few embarrassed chuckles.
"Not exactly planned. I uh...Forgot my purse on set again and needed to run in and grab it. Can't exactly feed a bunch of hungry children without it now can I? H-How's the movie auditions so far?"
The penguin sighed and reached a flipper up to his forehead. "Easier said than done. There's the part of the wicked family who still need spaces filled in place, and the handsome prince, not to mention that I still have no one to play the concerned father and we only have a few months to put this together! I can't describe how much pressure I'm feeling..But I have a good feeling that this year will be in our favor for sure!"
Cookie smiled brightly. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find the perfect people to fill those roles soon. You always manage to pull off a wonderful display."
"*sigh* I sure hope so, Dear. I'd hate to have nothing to present for my efforts." His gaze turned up once he noticed movement by the doors as Poppy reached back down to pick her bags back up. "And I see you brought a new friend!" Poppy paused as she was approuched by the eccentric looking fella. "Why HELLO there, Darling! I don't believe we've met!"
"Uh..." Poppy had to blink to actually make sure she was seeing who she was actually seeing before shaking her head and standing up, giving a politely smile. "Howdy! I don't think we've met actually."
The penguin chuckled and shook his head. "We didn't and I never forget a pretty face, Darling. And who might you be?"
"I'm those two's temporarily babysitter," she answered pointed at two of the three children huddled by his side. "Until I can get back on mah feet that is. Kinda starting from scratch after a crazy wake up call."
"Well, it's an honor to meet you Darling." His whole being radiated positivity and his voice despite being loud was very welcoming, making Poppy smile brightly, "I take it this is your first time at a studio?"
She smiled a bit shyly. "I-Is it that obvious? hehe" She reached up to rub the back of her neck. "Uh...Y-Yeah. Do you work here?"
At this the penguin and Cookie shared a chuckle before he spoke. "Well, I should hope so. Or else my name isn't DJ Grooves."
Grooves?....DJ Grooves? As in THE Mr. Grooves Cookie had spoken about before? OH! He must've been the director she spot about earlier, that would've explained the way he dressed. This guy was a walking fat cat with deep pockets, but he looked rather friendly and cheerful to her. And not to brag, but she did have a good judge of character usually.
"OH! So YOU'RE this Mr. Grooves I've heard so much about."
He chuckled. "So you heard a lot about me? I'm flattered, Darling. Really I am-" He was interrupted when a rumble sounded out and Poppy grabbed at her stomach embarrased. "...Oh my, my, my. Hungry are we?"
"I haven't eaten since breakfast and we've been running around all day."
"Well, then I better get back there and find that darned thing." Cookie turned to Mr. Grooves with a smile. "Ya'll don't mind if I just run to the back real quick like and grab it do you?"
"Not at all, Darling. Be my guest." Cookie smiled and without another word turned and ran off towards the door on the fair right of the room. The giant thing creaked open and closed behind her as she disappeared into the area behind it. Poppy watched her go behind sighing and stretching out her back from the now uncomfortable weight of the heavy used farm equipment on her, but her attention went back to Mr. Grooves when he pointed towards the counter and spoke again. "Darling, if you want you can just place these bags right on over there with the other random things we brought in today. You look redder than an apple on the sun."
She nodded yes reaching up a hand to wipe at her face. "I feel like a baked apple too. ...Ya sure you don't mind?"
"Not at all, Darling. Not at all. Why don't you go do that and I'll have one of my assistants bring you out a glass."
"Well, if you're really sure."
She smiled and lugged her way over to the counter by the crate and weird machine thing. Placing the bags down by the crate, she shimmied the golf club bag of farming tools off her shoulders and into her hands, leaning them all carefully against the big ol' machine thing next to them. Sighing that her back didn't have weight on it anymore she stretched it out making her back pop. A few giggles made her look back over towards the small group of girls around the penguin. Bow was still pouting looking down at the clothes in disgust but looked up when the penguin adjusted the sunhat on her head, she looked up at him and Mr. Grooves said something to her. Poppy couldn't hear exactly what he said but it put a smile on Bow's face and he patted her head with a flipper. A smile returning to her face at the cute scene in front of her. A small creaking noise came from her left, and Poppy didn't notice the expensive camera starting to lean from the weight of her tools.
BAM!!
A loud bang filled the room but strangely enough, barely anyone flinched or looked up from it. As if used to hearing large booming noises in the studio. The only ones who reacted was Mr. Grooves, the girls, and Poppy. Poppy all but jumped out of her skin backing against the counter and whirling towards the source of the sound, the girls seemed to flinch, and Mr. Grooves only casually looked over towards the left side of the studio. There the other giant pair of double doors had been kicked open and slammed into the walls, a moment later a very angry......Yellow owl?? Stomped out and behind him followed some regular Express Owls holding various items or just following. .....Wat? Poppy had to blink as the small whatever he was stomped over near to where she was standing and starting barking demands all of a sudden.
"You three grab the bloody camera and make sure ye pecknecks keep a tight grip on it! I nae need me raw footage damaged in anyway!" His head turned as he barked orders to the owls who jumped and nodded at their bosses demands. "Good! Can't count on you all to do anything without me tellin' ye to cannae?"
Well THAT was rude. Poppy frowned at the rude little whatever he was and still didn't notice the large machine next to her lean over even more. Neither Poppy, the owls, or whoever this small yellow guy was(who was still yelling at the poor owls through all of this might I add) noticed the heavy duty camera leaning over or the glamerous penguin waltz on over towards him with a smile until they all reacted at his voice. The owls stopping, the yellow bird thing freezing for a few seconds, his fist shaking and slowly closing into fists, and his head snapping to peer over his shoulder, and Poppy looking over blinking.
"Conductor, Darling. You mustn't be so loud. It disturbs the peace and scares potential clients away," Mr. Grooves calmly spoke to this person. "You know I'm still expecting others to answer my casting calls."
Wait. Didn't Cookie also mention a Conductor? Huh. So this must be him. Not gonna lie, not a good first impression to her if she said so herself. Conductor huffed and turned his whole body turned to completely face the calm moon penguin now.
"Tis NAE of your business ye no good puffy haired peckneck!!," Conductor shouted while pointing a hand at Mr. Grooves. He was loud enough to make Poppy wince. "Why don't ye badger off and leave me to my worrrrrk!!"
"Darling, I would love nothing MORE than to leave you alone undisturbed," Mr. Grooves insisted calmly holding up his flippers, "All I ask is that you don't make such a ruckus in the lobby so my interviewers don't get scared off."
"HA!! Ye still going on 'bout that nonsense! Like anyone would rrrreally want to be in some techno sore to the eyes picture like yours!"
"Well that's not true at all. I have a gentlemen coming in tomorrow to see for the part of the Father in my little play. "
"HA!! The third one in a row? By this rate, ye won't be able to show ye face at the Award Ceremony for judging!" He smiled this time and crossed his arms.
"Now, now. There's still lots of time. And I'm going for something far more simple this year. A little change of style but still fabulous if I do say so myself."
"HMPH!! Well I say ye are full of birdseed if you think you have an inch of chance as usually! Another second place trophy would be more fitted! AHAHAHA!!"
Poppy could feel herself frowning at his words. Well that was really uncalled fore especially since Mr. Grooves wasn't being rude at all back or making a big scene like Conductor was. CREAAAAAAAAAAKKKK!! Hey...What was that creaking sound? Or was her ears ringing from the earlier screaming.
"Ye should give up now and save ye some trouble! With me raw footage it's surrrre to be in me favor."
CRREEEEEEEEEEEEE-
A giant creaking sound echoed out in a black blur as the giant camera leaned over and tipped. Owls hooted in fear as they scrambled out of the way as all eyes looked over and it seemed time slowed down as it went down, down, down- .....With a loud crash glass and pieces of metal shattered and flew everywhere. On instinct everyone close enough held up their arms and looked away from the shatter, but it was too late. Time slowed down as the camera shattered beyond repair and lots of metal clangs and sounds followed the disaster until it all finally settled piece by piece in front of them all on the floor. Destroyed camera and farming tools splayed on top of it. Everyone stood in shock staring down at the absolutely DESTROYED piece of machinery but that wasn't the last of it. A few sparks from the top of the camera shot out .....and then just a tiny spark of flame appeared. Well that tiny flame was enough to send some panic througout everyone there as owls sqawked and gasped back at the sight of the small flame which slowly started to grow causing everone else to get mildly panicked.
"SOME DARLIN' GET A FIRE EXSTINGISHER!!," Mr. Grooves yelled one flipper going up behind him to push back the small group of children behind him.
"STAND BACK!!"
In a fury of feather and blur, a white streak of foam shot out from some random direction and slammed into the flames, successfully putting out the flames with a sizzling sound by none other than the receptionist. The bird who was behind the counter wasn't finished yet as he continued to spray the camera and part of her tools down until it was all white like snow had piled on it and he stopped. Everyone remained in their tense pose for a long while staring at the camera...before some sighed in relief as did Poppy. Well that was certainly a surprise wasn't it? ...But not a very pleasant one by SOMEONE'S standards.
"MY MOVIE!!," Conductor cried recieving all eyes on his as his hands reached up to grab those feathery parts of his head staring dead at the camera in horror. "ALL ME HARD WORKED RRRRRRAW FOOTAGE IS GONE!!! .....AH!! YOU!!" His horror quickly shifted to anger when he snapped towards the fightened owls with an accusing tone. "YOU NO GOOD......FEATHER BRAINED....PPPPPPPEEEEECCKKNNEEEEEECKSSSS!! I TOLD YE TO BE CAREFULL!! NOW LOOK AT WHAT YE DONE TA ME HARRRD WORK!! WAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A BLOODY SHATTERED MESS MADE BY BUBBLING BAFOONS?!"
The owls all froze at their bosses torment as Grooves turned around to ask the little girls if they were alright and Poppy stared. Watching as Conductor continued to shout as he blamed the poor owls for the mess....Blue eyes blinked down to the farming tools laid upon the floor. HER mess. The one she made-
Red eyes and shadows stared at her frightened form as a voice hissed. "Take her to the room and lock her away. ...I can't to look at her for as my prince had done. Perhaps locking away her forever will teach her a lesson about gazing into another man's eyes who belong TO ME!!"
"STOP!! JUST STOP IT WAS MY FAULT!!!"
Blue eyes snapped open at the yell. The yell that made everyone freeze and look at the red head who looked just as shocked and surprised as everyone else at her sudden outburst, but the Conductor wasn't yelling at the owls anymore. Despite him not having eyes, she could still tell he was staring right at her along with everyone else around her in more stunned silence as nobody spole.
".......Wot?"
"So YOU'RE the one responsible for this?," the tallest bird from the counter spoke putting down the fire extingisher and crossed his arms with a frown making Poppy flinch.
Poppy stared at him for a moment but seeing one poor worried looking owl behind him, made her frown before taking a deep inhale...and nodding towards the receptionist without hesitation. "That's right! One hundred peckin' percent!" She boldly pointed to the half foam covered tools by now. "Those are mah tools and it's mah fault the giant whatcha-ma-callit thing fell over 'n broke! Not anyone else's! So don't be yelling at anyone!"
The receptionist stood there for a moment staring at her before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a pen and piece of paper. "Are you willing to pay for the damages? If you chose to claim the damages that is."
She nodded again without hesitation. "I am!"
"Alright." The paper had the same bird skull logo and Dead Bird Studios in bold red words. "Where do you live, Ma'am?"
"Uh...."
"With us!," Hattie piped up.
"Alright." Under the words 'Billing Details' he wrote Red Head Human Woman and the adress Spaceship in the sky 1 6829 this planet, Invoice #: (insert random Owl Express Numbers), Invoice Date: Today, and Currency: Pons. After studying it for a bit he looked back down to the damaged thing with a hum. "Let's see. There was film so that counts under 'Distruping Studio Recordings' which comes to one hundred thousand pons." He wrote under the words 'You Will Be Billed For' as he spoke and looked at the damages caused. "One count of 'Penguin Harrassment' which is five hundred pons. Five cases of 'Owl Harrassment' for two thousand five hundred pons. 'Destruction of Property' oh definately for three thousand. And 'Tresspassing' for seven thousand."
Poppy could only stand there and let her eyes grow and widen in shock at the claims and how much pons this guy claimed she owed for such lunacy. ".......Tresspassing and harassment!? Of what kind?! I wasn't tresspassin' if I was invited in here!! And I wasn't harassing anyone!!''
"Ma'am. I'm only doing my job handling paperwork, and our insurance doesn't cover humans. The moment you stepped on property you became a liability and responisble for paying for any destruction you caused," he explained calmly as if he did this every day. He wrote one other thing down on the paper before holding it out for her. "You owe us one hundred thirteen thousand pons plus tax and another seven hundred fifty for the expensive high defintion camera to be replaced."
Poppy could only stare and not move at the paper held out to her with wide eyes and an open jaw like there was another cursed statue in front of her. After a moment, the recptionist carefully and calmly put the large bill in her hand and she finally reacted to the movement. with anger and a scowl. "WHY IS THIS SO EXPENSIVE!? I couldn't afford this even if I suddenly turned into solid gold like that roach did!!"
"Like I said, Ma'am. I'm only doing my job. If you like I could call the local court house of law, the lawyers there can assure you the paperwork and damages are all legal."
"Well I still can't PAY for it!.....What if I work off the debt instead? I'm a hard worker I promise."
"Well.....it wouldn't be the first time someone worked it off. But you'll have to speak with the two big bosses about it, not me I'm afraid."
"And they would be?"
"ME!!" She jumped and nearly dropped the paper when the Conductor scowled up at her with anger. "That was MY movie ye destrrrroyed with yer no good foolishness! If ye are gonna work it away ye better be ready to receive some hard work thrown at ye from meself!!''
".......No."
Silence. You could hear a pin drop as everyone in the studio of hearing range completely stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards the scene before them with wide eyes. Completely shocked into silence as they all stared at the human alike. Penguins, Express Owls, the two children, and even both the directors seemed to be shocked into the dumb silence as they all gawked at the frowning red haired lady staring at the Conductor. THE CONDUCTOR!! NO ONE BUT DJ GROOVES HAD EVER SAID NO TO THE CONDUCTOR BEFORE!! (except Hattie that one time in the basement but we don't talk about that not that anyone outside of the little girl, and a few of her friends knew) But now it seemed everyone was too shocked seeing a new person say no to the famously hot headed owl. One owl staring completely let the script she was holding fall from her hands and land scattered at her feet as everyone watched jaws dropped. Eventually Confuctor was the one to break the awkward silence by what else, his famous yeling. "WOT!?," he shouted and stared at her. "An' why not?! Ye are the one who cost me mah raw footage! That was ten days of haarrrrrrd work I ain't nah gettin' back, Las!" The red head crossed her arms and didn't change her expression. "I know and I am terribly sorry I caused you so much trouble in that department. But I refuse to work with someone so rude and treats the employee's who's workin' hard trying to help him by calling them useless! Obviously you're a terrible boss who treats anyone helping him with no respect, and I would feel terrible! Being in one of your movies knowing that, Sir." The girls exchange silent shocked glances behind Poppy as she turned her head towards the damaged camera. "....If it's the material that I damaged I would gladly pay in anyway I can. But only on the basis you apologise to those you've wronged, Mr. Conductor. But don't you go thinkin' I'll do anything before I know I'll be treated with respect!" Conductor's. Jaw. DROPPED!! Obviously not used to anyone other than that ridiculous long time rival of his speaking to HIM. HIM!!! In such a brass and demanding manner and it took a moment for him to even process what she just said but in a moment his temper flared up in a moment's notice as those feathery appendages on his head wriggled and he pointed at the penguin director as the other fist clenched into a fist as he demanded. Mr. Grooves blinking surprised at the sudden action "Bu-Bu-Bu-BUT WHAT COULD BE SOOOO SPECIAL ABOUT 'EM DOWN RIGHT EYE SORE OF A SO CALLED MOVIE!? YE GARBAGE NEVER COULD GET OFF YE GROUND IF DJ GRRRRRROOOOVES HAD ALL ETERNITY AND BECAME PRRRRRRESIDENT OF YE BOX OFFICE!!" "That's not true! I actually saw one of his movies myself." "YE DID WOT!?" "You ...did?," Grooves shifted his funny glasses wearing face up towards her just as confused as the angry owl man. Poppy nodded. "Yes. I. Did. And to be perfectly honest, I didn't think it was that bad. In fact, it was really interesting. Maybe not the 'best' by bird standards, but by human standards the story was really easy to understand for someone who honestly doesn't really know a whole darn lot 'bout these fancy lights, or high tech stuff, or..." She waved a hand off shrugging. "Or whatever ratings are. And a struggling career was relatable for someone who's been struggling with a lot happening." Conductor was sputtering and made some kind of funny bird sqawking noise before some of the feathers around his collar ruffled up in rage and he jabbed a thumb at himself. "WELL MAH MOVIES ARE NOTHIN' TO SHY FROM EITHER, LASSIE!! RRRRESPECTIVELY THAT AYE AM THE ONE TO MAKE IT ON TOP ALL YE TIME!!" Her face frowned again as she looked down at the older bird with a harsher scowl. "MY respect, SIR, is earned. Not GIVEN! And so far you've done absolutely NOTHING to earn it! Yelling like a baby who didn't get their candy and throwing a fit is not the way to do that! You just come off to me as a spoiled old man who doesn't know the word no even existed!" "WHAT'S SO SPECIAL ABOUT THE BLOODY PECKNECK ANYWAYS!?," He demanded fuming. "If you can't respect him as your rival then the least you could do is respect him as another person in your profession. As far as I've seen he's been nothin' but polite and kind to everyone and considering he's not in mah face yellin' like a baby bird for his mama is somethin' I respect." With a huff of that sass Snatcher would've loved to see she closed her eyes, and turned her head away with her nose stuck up. "I will start RESPECTING you as an adult when you ACT like one and apologize and decide to stop throwing a tantrum and embarrassing yourself! Because the truth be told I think YOU'RE the only peckneck in this studio." More silence settled around the entire place as Conductor dropped his jaw and the only sound that came out of him was something that sounded like 'A-Ah...ah..ah ah ah.....' in a stuttery way. Hattie's eyes were wide and Bow's hands had come to cover her mouth in a dramatic way. If Snatcher was there, Hattie would have no doubt he would've started laughing loudly at the look on the old bird's face. In fact, she could almost hear it now. A deep rumbling chuckle-....But wait. Snatcher's voice wasn't deep? It was high and raspy. Then who was-... A cold flipper patted Poppy on the back making her hum and look next to her to find the afro wearing penguin chuckling...before laughing a deep but loud laugh that filled the room with an almost joyful mood. That seemed to snap the Conductor from his trance and glared in the laughing penguin's direction. After a moment, Mr. Grooves stopped and turned his gaze up to Poppy with a smile. "Darling! I never could've said that any better than how you did!" He patted her back again. "You know. I like you already, Darling. My little stars usually have great taste in character and I see they didn't spare any expense in making another darling friend. What did you say your name was again?" ......She blinked but smiled at the happy moon penguin politely. "Poppy Rose Bloomington. You can call me Poppy, Mr. Grooves." Grooves hummed for a moment looking at her up and down for a moment before turning to the glaring Conductor and the broken camera lying a few feet away in pieces. "Was that footage really that important to you Conductor, Darlin'?" "OF COURSE IT WAS YOU PE-" "There's children here." Conductor's feathery appendeges went back as he growled. "YES! It was half me movie! It cannae be so simply replaced with the secret idea I was goin' for! All the time I spent on it cannae be replaced in time of the award ceremony!" The penguin hummed and brought his other flipper up to rub the bottom of his beak staring at the camera with a thoughtful expression...before looking back up to Poppy. "I'm afraid he's right, Darlin. I've known Conductor long enough to know one thing he never does is lie about his movies, even if he does brag while doing so in such a rude manor." "HMPH!! OF COURSE I DONAE!!" Grooves just rolled his eyes. "Even so, I think we should help him." "YE WOT!?" Conductor glanced surprised at the penguin like he won the trophy all of a sudden. "What kind of nonsense are ye blabbering about now?" Grooves turned to him staring, before tilting his head down wear his sunglass slid down enough to reveal some of his eyes in a deadpanned expression. "Believe it or not, Darling, I don't like unfair advantages." Conductor just stared blankly at him. " But I'm sure my little stars here could help out with anything you may need." Bow lit up with a smile. "Yeah! I'd love to help!" "Don't you have a back up plan like you usually do?" "Of course Ah do! I ain't no dummy." "Well, there you go, Darling." He reached up to push his glasses back into place. "I'm sure you'll put together something spectacular like you always do." "......B-B-But..What are the damages!? Ye camera cost the studio over a thousand pons! I cannae just look past that!," he argued back pointing at the shattered thing. And Grooves hummed again. "I'm afraid you're right about that too. Frankly, these kinds of ones aren't too easily to come across."........In a moment he smiled and looked up to Poppy. "I know! She can work for me as payment for those damages." Poppy blinked with a surprised expression as did most of everyone else but at the thought of Poppy being in a movies both young girls suddenly looked even more excited. Conductor on the other hand- "ABABABABABA!! Hang on a pecking second! THE LASS WORK FOR YE FOR DAMAGING MAH FILM?!" "I-I AM?!," Poppy asked whirling wide eyed to the moon penguin director. "Yes. Cuz quick frankly it might've been your film, but it was on OUR shared expensive studio high definition camera, Darling. She can easily pay off any debt she owes for the camera and your footage by working and her pay going to the repairs and reienbursment for any misguided accidents." The Conductor growled again and went to probably argue some more- "Tick tock, Darling. You don't want to waste anytime fighting when there's a deadline to meet. It looks like you'll be needing to step up your game." "MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!! FINE!!" The tiny bird man turned and began stomping away towards the owl's side of the studio. "WHAT ARE ALL YE LOOKING AT!? SOMEONE BRING ME MAH BACK UP SCRIPT!! CHANGE THE SETS TO OUTSIDE SCHEDUALED!! SOMEONE INFORRRRRRM THE OTHER'S WE'RE GOIN' WITH PLAN B THIS YEAR!!! AND SOMEONE GET THAT SMASHED HUNK O' JUNK CLEANED UP!!" The owl's scrambled to grab anything they needed to grab and quickly follow the fuming bird boss as DJ Grooves chuckled and shook is head. "Don't feel too bad about the Conductor, Darling. He's usually all talk and no bite." Hattie giggled. "Yeah! He's a crazy, grumpy grandpa!" Both Grooves and Bow chuckled at Hattie's description of the old bird, but none of them noticed frozen and mildly panicked form. Her?! In a movie?! Where millions of people could see her?! WHAT HAD SHE GOTTEN HERSELF INTO NOW?!
#ABloomInTime#Snatcher#The Florist#Florist#a hat in time florist#a hat in time the florist#A hat in time the florist x snatcher#A hat in time florist x snatcher#a hat in time snatcher#A hat in time snatcher x florist#a hat in time snatcher x the florist#Snatcher x the florist#snatcher x florist#the florist x snatcher#florist x snatcher
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
So Lila is having a party and hires Mari’s partners bakery to cater. The Batfam come over to surprise Mari with a visit. Mari has to work Lila’s party. The Batfam decide to help out. At the end of the party Lila decides to not pay for the pastries. And says “if Marinette was a friend she would give them to us for free.” The Batfam is pissed and put not only Lila but the entire class in their place. Sooooo much salt
This is also based off of a prompt @virgil-is-a-cutie sent me forever ago.
[[MORE]]
Marinette stared down at the name on the catering order, dread curdling in her gut like sour milk.
Lila Rossi
"We're catering a party tonight?" Marinette looked up at her parents, who were frantically putting together the order that had been sent in last minute. The sight made Marinette's heart ache.
"The poor girl told us that her caterer cancelled on her last minute and this is for her birthday, so we decided to take it." Sabine smiled brightly, though it was obviously strained along the edges as she whipped up some more buttercream icing for the towering birthday cake they were putting together.
"I just hope we can find someone to help us cater on such short notice." Tom muttered as he took another batch of chocolate filled croissants out of the oven, filling the air with the buttery sweet scent.
"I could help!" Marinette spoke out quickly, then winced. She knew exactly what this party was, it was the one that Lila had been going on and on about for months, a big party where tons of celebrities would be, as well as Lila's millionaire boyfriend. There were also her braggings about getting special caterers from Spain, but Marinette assumed this was just Lila backpedalling with a new story of the caterers canceling on her last minute.
It was also a party that Marinette had not been invited to and was basically banned from by her class.
But still, she couldn't just let her parents deal with this alone, they didn't deserve that!
Her parents beamed and Sabine hugged her daughter tightly, just as the front door's bell jingled. Marinette peeked out of the kitchen and blinked in surprise with she saw four men standing in the bakery entrance. Four familiar men.
"What are you guys doing here in Paris?" Marinette pushed her way through the swinging door, rushing over to the four Wayne sons and throwing herself into Damian's arms, warmly kissing him
as she was picked up and spun around.
"We wanted to visit you." Tim offered, blinking in surprise when Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
"We wanted to see you, Angel." Damian smiled, then shot a glare to his brothers, Jason specifically. "Though one is us simply wanted to stuff his ugly mug full of pastries. I swear, he'll end up fat with diabetes and alone for the rest of his life."
"Whatever, Demon Spawn, you're just jealous because Marinette likes making goodies for me more than you." Jason rolled his eyes, but scooped up Mari into a tight hug. "Your boyfriend here has been antsy to see you."
"Because I couldn't stand the sight of your face anymore." Damian shot back, before turning his gaze to Marinette once again. He noticed the lines of stress around her mouth, her eyes. Something was obviously bothering her. "Marinette, what's wrong?"
"Huh?" Marinette looked between the four guys nervously, fiddling with one of her pigtails. "Oh, nothing! It's just that we just got a last minute catering gig and we don't have enough catering staff. As in I'll be the only one serving alongside my parents."
Dick and Jason exchanged glances before the oldest Wayne boy reached out and set a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Let us help you tonight, Mari. We wanted to spend time with you anyways, so this can help with the issue." Dick offered, smiling brightly down at her.
"No, I couldn't ask that of you! Besides, you've probably never catered before, I wouldn't want anyone getting hurt!" Mari stuttered out as her parents exited the kitchen, covered in flour, sugar, and sweat.
"Well, Angel, I'm sorry to say." Damian smiled, crossing his arms as he watched her. "You don't really have much of a choice."
---
Looking back on it now, Marinette was more than happy the boys insisted. The entire school was at this party being hosted by Lila at Le Grand Paris. Marinette silently wondered how the hell Lila could afford this.
She served people the chocolate croissants, though kept clear of her classmates, not wanting to deal with any of that smack talk. From what she saw of the boys, they were doing superb, some of her classmates *cough* Sabrina *cough* Alya *cough* openly flirted with the beyond handsome guys.
As Marinette turned to serve a few kids from her art club, her stomach dropped at the sight of Lila walking over to her. Ever since Lila had turned seventeen, she had taken to wearing these tight clothes that hid nothing of her body. Marinette was pretty sure that tight orange evening dress Lila had on fit her like a second skin. And it obvious the girl was not wearing a bra, by the gods where was the bleach.
"Marinette! It was so kind of you and your parents to cater my party this evening! I really appreciate it, the food was lovely, there were even done croissants that weren't dried out." Lila grinned, her green eyes sparking with malice as their class surrounded them, shooting Marinette glares as they hadn't wanted the baker's daughter anywhere near this party to ruin it.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Lila." Marinette forced a smile, her hands gripping the edges of her platter tightly. She honestly wanted to chuck it at Lila and run. "My parents will be sending you the bill tomorrow."
Alya snorted, as well did the rest of miss Bustier's class. Lila joined in, her laughter drawing the attention of the nearby Damian.
"Very funny, Marinette. I know all about you not charging your friends. And you are such a good friend, right, to cater my birthday party for free? It's my eighteenth after all, you wouldn't want to make me cry on my birthday." Lila fluttered her lashes, but the threat was clear. If Marinette said no, Lila would put up a stink in front of the entire school and ruin the bakery's reputation.
"But... But this entire gig is worth about three hundred and forty euros." Marinette visibly paled, her eyes darting to her parents who were setting down the large birthday cake Lila had ordered, one with fifteen layers. They had worked so hard ever since two am that morning... It would be so much money down the drain.
"God, Marinette, don't be selfish! You catered to my birthday party last year, didn't you?" Alya snapped, crossing her arms as she cocked her hip.
"Yours was only a few trays of cupcakes, Alya.." Marinette began to tremble in anger as she noticed Lila tearing up. How dare they.. How dare they expect something this expensive for free?! Marinette was sure Lila was going to try and get this ballroom for free too, as well as the decorators!
"That is a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" Damian stepped up beside his girlfriend and shot Lila a withering glare. "This is a very expensive venue, a true friend wouldn't ask for that ridiculous amount of a discount. Even a best friend."
"I don't know who you are, but you will certainly be hearing from my boyfriend if you don't mind your own business!" Lila snapped, tossing her hair over her shoulder, which unfortunately caught Alya in the face, knocking her glasses onto the floor.
"Oh yeah, who's your boyfriend?" Tim strode up, eyebrow raised. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to kiss that vile girl.
"Damian Wayne. His family is very rich and powerful, you know." Lila sneered, setting her hands on her hips, unaware of Alya being on her hands and knees, desperately searching for her glasses.
"That's funny. I don't ever remember having a girlfriend quite like you. Last time I checked, my girlfriend had the most beautiful blue eyes, and the most adorable freckles." Damian wrapped an arm around Marinette's waist, pulling her close as he planted a kiss on her cheek.
"I take it you're the lying girl that made my little Pixie Pop cry." Jason loomed over the group, a feral smile on his face as he crossed his arms, the entire room watching them now. "Throwing our father's name around isn't too smart, Lie-la."
"Neither is telling the hotel staff that our father is paying for this venue." Dick commented as he strode over, Mayor Bourgeois right behind him, sweating nervously.
"What do you mean? I don't know what stunt you're trying to pull, but Bruce Wayne will certainly send his lawyers after you lot for trying to pass yourselves off as Wayne's!" Lila snapped, fear flickering across her features, her skin paling a bit.
"Enough with the lies, Miss Rossi, I do not take kindly to those who bully my future daughter in law."
The voice cut sharply through the rising noise of the class beginning to shout at Marinette for setting this scenario up to ruin the party, and the rest of the school whispering to each other that Lila's other promises hadn't come true. Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale never appeared to play at the party; Nino had been forced to DJ last minute with Lila convincing him to do it for free. Prince Ali never came to dance with Lila. Everything she said never seemed to add up.
But the sight of Bruce Wayne, a tall, handsome, imposing figure, shut everyone up. He made his way towards his sons and Marinette's class, a kind smile forming on his face as he reached Marinette.
"I was wondering where you all had gone. It seems you all neglected to mention to me that you had my sons helping you tonight. You know, I could have chipped in too, Marinette." He patted her head fondly, while Lila started to sweat bullets. Alya, once having found her glasses, though one of the lenses was cracked, put them on and looked over at Bruce Wayne, gasping rather loudly.
"Oh my god, Bruce Wayne! I'm so glad to finally meet you! Can I get an interview on your thoughts of your son Damian getting married to Lila next year? Are you really going to get her shoes made of gold? Will she really take off with him on a horse drawn carriage to their honeymoon in Fiji?" She babbled out, taking her phone out to record the conversation. Though one look from Bruce's icy eyes stopped her dead.
"I believe you need to re-check those sources of yours. I have no idea who this Miss Rossi is, except she has been having large expenses being put down under my name." He growled, while his sons snickered behind him. Lila gulped and began to tremble, never thinking Bruce Wayne would actually find out about those expenses. Most rich people didn't, they just spent money without a care in the world, right?
"Please, there's a misunderstanding..." Lila squeaked out, while Alya saw red, turning on Marinette.
"How dare you! You turned the Waynes on Lila too?! What, did you spread those ostrich legs of yours to corrupt them? God, Marinette, you're the most selfish, cruel, manipulative girl I know!" Alya got right in Marinette's face, reaching out for her. But Damian stepped in her way, a look of murder on his face.
"Touch her and you lose your hands, and I'll have my friend's mother ruin that God damn blog of yours. Lois already hates the sight of it, she's eager to tear it apart." He hissed through clench teeth.
The silence was thick as Bruce turned to Mayor Bourgeois, who was ringing his hands.
"I have no intention of paying for this venue. Everything that she out under my name tonight is to be charged to Miss Rossi, understand?" The cold tone had the mayor nodding and trembling under the Wayne's cold gaze.
"Tom, Sabine." Bruce turned to the couple, and his warm smile returned. "I daresay you both wasted enough time here. How about we all go out for dinner now, hm?"
"You can't do this to me!" Lila sobbed, tears flooding her eyes as she hugged herself, before frantically turning to a shellshocked Alya. "Alya, I can't afford this! You need to help me!"
"It's okay, Lila, Marinette won't get away with this. Adrien still likes you, right? Why not ask his father to cover it? You're his most prized model, remember?" Alya smiled, though her brows were drawn together in uncertainty.
Lila took a moment to smooth down her hair, to calm herself. She mustn't lose control, she could easily turn this on Marinette, on her parents, on the Waynes. She was Lila Rossi, the most adored girl in school. She wouldn't let anything like stupid Marinette the chink ruin this for her.
So with a stunning smile and some words to wave away any doubt, she strode over to her massive birthday cake as the Waynes and Marinette's parents left, announcing it was time for some delicious cake. She was about to cut a slice, when someone (definitely not Juleka) bumped into the table holding the cake. The massive cake wobbled, before it went teetering onto Lila and Alya, splattering them both in cake and buttercream frosting, as well as a ripping down as Alya stumbled and stepped on Lila's dress, causing the material to rip from hem to the top of her bodice.
Marinette could hear their screams of outrage as she entered the Wayne's limo to head out for a nice dinner with her boyfriend and his family
---
The fallout of the entire debacle was a mess, an extreme one. Lila's mother found herself suddenly with bills that almost lead deep into the thousands of euros, as well as some lawsuits from celebrities that caught wind of Lila using their names to get things and into places.
Alya was sent lawsuits after lawsuits by the same celebrities for her lies on her blog, and her parents as well as Nino's were furious when they found out that the two had been sneaking out of babysitting for secret dates, dumping their children onto either Marinette or Lila's lap, the latter being a complete stranger.
But Monday morning had to be the worst. The school was talking about the disaster of a party, of everyone being forced out of the venue since Lila couldn't pay, of Lila accidentally flashing people once her dress hand been ripped in two thanks to Alya. They even spoke of Miss Bustier's class as if they were the plague, and avoided the group in fear of facing any backlash.
When Marinette arrived that morning with Adrien at her side, both were laughing as Marinette carried a stack of papers. When Marinette saw the class, they all looked tired, ashamed. Many got up to beg for her forgiveness, but she merely waved them back to seating, then handed each and everyone one of them a piece of paper. They each read them, noticing that they looked like receipts.
"Hey, Marinette, what are these?" Kim held up his paper, frowning in confusion. Marinette rose a brow and set her hands on her hips.
"Your bills for every event, every cake, every dress or outfit I made any of you for free." She replied flatly, crossing her arms as soon as she sat. Adrien handed a red eyes Lila a piece of paper as well. "Bruce Wayne made me realize that since you all aren't really my friends, I shouldn't have to waste so much money on all of you."
"This is from my father. This is for your official termination." Adrien's smile was bright as Lila began to tremble in anger at the sight of it. "It was nice knowing you, Lila."
The class was on their feet in seconds, shouting in outrage as soon as they saw exactly how high their receipts were asking for. It was over a million for the class as a whole. Marinette raised her left hand to cover a yawn, and Alya caught sight of a rather impressive wedding ring. The reporter pointed at it and cried out in shock.
"You're engaged?!" She screamed, her hand crushing her receipt as she trembled. Hers was the highest out of everyone's. Her parents were going to kill her.
"Yes, just last night. We'll be getting married next year." Marinette shrugged, smiling at Adrien as she motioned to his left hand. "And Adrien and Tim will be getting married soon after graduation."
Everyone stared at the gold band on Adrien's left ring finger, many going pale. Alya worked up a shaky smile.
"W- we can't wait to go, you guys! Congratulations, they'll be the weddings of the century." Her mind already swirled around the possibilities of covering those weddings on her blog, it could save her entire career.
"Oh Alya." Adrien clicked his tongue in disdain, hooking arms with Marinette and the two of them smiled, like wolves about to slaughter the sheep. Then in unison they spoke.
"You all will be too far in debt to even buy a newspaper about our weddings."
And that night, the class suffered the worst grounding they had ever seen, with many bank accounts being drained to scramble and pay back the Dupain-Chengs. Lila and her mother had to file for bankruptcy, and were forced back to Italy thanks to the embassy catching wind of this scandal.
Meanwhile, Damian cuddled with Marinette as they laid under the stars on her roof, their left hands gripped tightly as their engagement rings twinkled softly in the moonlight.
Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @2sunchild2 @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful @sidessunnybumblebee @persephonebutkore @18-fandoms-unite-08 @suzen23smith @luciferge @theelventhgod @noirdots @space--butterflies @ghostglaceon @magicalfirebird @goggles-mcgee @chocolate1721 @minightrose @bookcrazybby @cupcakeandkisses @mewwitch
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
there's not a star in heaven that we can't reach - ch 8/10
chapter title: this is the tech rehearsal, and i'm your choreographer
word count: 5,035
[one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine (coming soon)]
read on ao3
“Carlos? Are you awake, mijo?”
Carlos very much wasn’t awake. What high school student genuinely is fully awake on a Monday morning, especially the day after break. If his mom is calling for him though, that could only mean one thing.
He’s late.
“Yes, mamá, I’m up!” he calls back, frantically rolling out of bed. Thankfully, he chooses his outfit the night before so he knows exactly what he’s grabbing in the morning. He zips his backpack, grabs his phone, and does a quick brush through of his hair without looking in the mirror. He probably doesn’t look the best, but half the school most likely won’t even show up, and it’s tech rehearsal today which means no matter how hard he tries he’s gonna be a mess anyway.
“Someone is waiting for you downstairs,” his mom calls up to him again, and he stops in his path. That’s unusual…he usually takes the bus alone in the morning. Who could possibly be waiting for him?
For the first time all morning, Carlos glances at his phone. It’s only 7:00 am; his alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Which, he imagines, can only mean one person is at the door.
Memories of the weekend flood through his mind as he walks down the stairs, suddenly a lot more awake than he was a moment ago despite being woken up before his alarm. Just as he expected, Seb- his boyfriend, is standing in their living room in front of the door, wearing a knit rainbow winter hat with tassels and a fluffy suede jacket on top of red flannel. It’s the most Seb he’s ever looked, and Carlos practically melts.
“Hi,” Seb breathes, smiling. He goes to hug Carlos before glancing at his mom in the other room. “Does she know?” he asks, voice dropping so she won’t hear.
Carlos shakes his head but squeezes his boyfriend’s hand quickly before his mom can see. “Why are you here?” he asks, though, obviously, he’s not complaining.
“Georgie had to go in early for some club meeting. Usually, I just go with her and stay in the library until school starts, but then I thought I might as well come here and, uh, surprise you,” he says, still smiling at Carlos. “If, uh, that’s okay.”
Carlos squeezes his hand again. “Please. As long as you’re okay with taking the bus.”
He calls goodbye to his mom, reminding her that he’ll be home late because of tech rehearsal before they’re out the door.
The moment the two are out of sight from his house, Carlos takes Seb’s hand before he can second guess himself. His boyfriend (!!! he is never going to get used to that) just smiles again. One of these days, Carlos will tell his mom and then he can do whatever with Seb in the comfort of his own home, but for now, he’ll take their not-so-secret hand-holding.
“This is kind of exciting for me,” Seb admits, laughing softly as they approach his deserted bus stop. “I’ve never taken the bus before!”
“Well, it loses its shine after about the second ride, but I’m excited that you're excited,” Carlos smiles back at him.
A few more people arrive before the bus pulls up. His stop is the last one before the school, so by the time they enter, most of the seats have already been filled. Luckily, there's an empty seat right in the front behind the driver, which Carlos gratefully takes, Seb in tow. Nobody takes a second glance at their conjoined hands.
“So,” Carlos says as the bus begins to trundle down the road towards the school. “How was the rest of your break?” He basically already knows, considering they text just about every day, but it’s still nice to hear Seb talk.
“It was alright, catching up on homework for Mazzara’s class,” (they both rolled their eyes) “and just hanging out with my family. Josie and Cohyn are home from college, which made the house extra chaotic, but it was worth it.”
Carlos smiles at the mention of the older Matthew-Smith siblings. He still has yet to meet any of them besides Georgie and the occasional glance of one of the younger siblings the few times he’s been to Seb’s house. He’s sure it’s only a matter of time before he gets introduced to the rest of them.
The mention of his older siblings reminds Carlos of the night on Ashlyn’s porch, and how Seb has said that Georgie called their relationship months back.
“Did you, um,” he laughs. “Did you talk to Georgie?”
Seb’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah! She freaked, of course, but, like, in the best way.”
Carlos laughs again. “Should I be afraid?”
“No, I’m pretty sure you’re her favorite, actually,” he laughs as well, and part of Carlos is soaring knowing that.
“Gotcha, so you should be the one who’s afraid.”
Seb shrugs. “I mean, can’t blame her. You’re pretty incredible.”
Carlos can feel his face flushing. He’s hoping he can just blame it on the cold weather before realizing that Seb is blushing as well like he’s looking for the okay that he just said that. So, Carlos gives it to him.
“I don’t know. I think you’re the incredible one.”
Seb ducks his head, not knowing what to say next, but his face still bright red. He opts to just squeeze Carlos’s hand.
Most of the ride passes in silence, Carlos still half waking up and Seb just looking out the window, occasionally glancing over at him or their hands like he’s getting to remind himself that he’s dating Carlos.
It doesn’t feel any different being in a relationship. They’re still them, still the choreographer and the rehearsal pianist, the two boys who danced at Homecoming together. Seb is still one of his closest friends; he supposes dating him doesn’t change any of that except now he gets to brag that his best friend is also his boyfriend. He supposes that’s why they are dating.
Seb is one of the only people to break down the walls Carlos has built up, and while his heart is racing at the thought of it all, for once in his life he isn’t scared.
They have to let go of each other’s hands by the time they get to the school, gathering their backpacks and filing out the cramped space of the bus alley, but as soon as they’re walking into the school, Seb grabs his hand again.
“This okay?” he asks quietly, and Carlos doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make it through the day without holding Seb’s hand.
“You don’t have to ask.”
They walk down the hall together, which is a little nerve-wracking considering they’ve only ever held hands at school when it was after hours, but nobody gives them a second glance. Anyone who stares for a moment just moves on, either not caring or not surprised.
“Do you need to go to your locker?” Carlos asks him. Theirs are relatively near each other, much thanks to alphabetical last name sorting.
“Uh, yeah, I wanted to put my Chemistry textbook before-” he’s cut off as Lou and Addie rush past them, headed towards the auditorium with Ashlyn hot on their heels.
Carlos reaches out and grabs her arm before she can get too far. “Hey, Ash, where are you guys headed?”
Her face drops. “You haven’t heard yet?”
“No…?” he says slowly, glancing at Seb who just shrugs.
“You guys are gonna wanna come see this.”
He and Seb glance at each other again, before following Ashlyn down the hallway.
A million scenarios are running through Carlos’s head as he approaches the auditorium, none of which are positive after hearing Ash’s tone. Was someone hurt? Was the stage okay? The set? The lights? The costumes? Will they still be able to do the show?
What he saw when they reached the back doors so much worse than he could have ever expected.
Water is dripping from the ceiling, falling on burned and crumbled set pieces and costumes. Anything that survived was covered in plastic and almost definitely waterlogged, including the stage. Carlos feels his heart sink the moment he realized even if they cleared the damaged set pieces, the stage was too far gone to perform on.
His fear is confirmed as one of the firefighters informs Miss Jenn that the show, in fact, cannot go on with the stage in this condition.
“The fire ripped through half your costumes and the sprinklers ruined a bunch of your sets,” she tells Miss Jenn. “I’m going to have to red tag the entire backstage area for a month at least.”
There are gasps and sad shuffles behind Carlos as everyone groups up, seeking comfort within the tragedy. Next to him, Seb presses into Carlos, immediately lacing their hands as he blinks back tears.
Behind them, Kourtney lets out a choked “Did she say costumes?” and god, Carlos’s heart hurts.
“Okay, listen up,” Miss Jenn turns to them, and even though Carlos can’t imagine what she possibly can say during this moment, every head turns to listen. “Hug your neighbor, take a moment, and let’s all reconvene in the cafeteria after school to talk about our options. Ricky and Nini, spread the word.”
Nini nods. “Got it.”
“Ricky?”
“Sorry. After school in the cafeteria, got it,” he nods as well.
It’s sort of a concluding moment as everyone realizes they unfortunately still do have to go to class in a few minutes, and the cast and crew slowly begin to trickle out of the theater. Carlos lets go of Seb for a moment to murmur goodbye to Ashlyn, promising to talk to her in History. When he turns back around, Seb is lingering, staring at the stage but his mind is obviously elsewhere.
“Is it dumb,” he says sadly when Carlos approaches again, “that I’m glad the ladder survived?”
His head drops down to Carlos’s shoulder, and Carlos’s body just rakes with despair. His biggest project in shreds, the person he cared about most close to tears… he wonders if, with all the good leading up to this moment, this kind of disaster was bound to happen.
Life never wants to be easy.
—
Carlos doesn’t see Seb again until lunch with him during their fifth period. By that point, the two of them lightened up a bit after getting lost in the waves of Sophomore year schoolwork still circling around them, unrelenting despite theatrical tragedy. Still, the knowledge of their burned theater sat heavily on everyone’s shoulders, and their lunch table was quieter than normal.
“This school seriously needs to work on their vegetarian options,” Seb murmurs, stirring his soup. “I can die happy the day society realizes that not all of us are in love with tofu.”
Carlos lets out a breathy laugh and Natalie leans over to pat him on the shoulder sympathetically. Their cafeteria’s interesting taste in alternate food choices is a conversation they have at least twice a week ever since Carlos joined the table.
He could tell Seb was doing his best to hide it and instead try and cheer everyone else up. He had noticed, at some point, that the other boy always put others in front of his own emotions, making sure they were okay before he was. It was endearing to see how badly he cared, but Carlos knew what hurt looked like on the other boy, knew that he had to be there for him even if he didn’t have the words to make everything okay.
“There’s more to vegetarianism than soup and salads,” Seo thoughtfully reminds them. It’s something Carlos has heard many times before but can never get tired of his boyfriend’s voice.
He results in simply leaning into Seb’s side, ignoring Natalie’s eye-roll towards the two of them, and savors the moment in his day when everything isn’t totally terrible.
—
Carlos does a lot of hugging today. He thinks the entire cast does, to be honest. There isn’t a moment where they see each other and don’t seek comfort, mourning all of the hard work and the potential loss of their show. It’s probably overdramatic to all of the non-theatre kids, but Carlos is too tired to care at this point.
He finds himself hugging Nini and Seb in a sort of prayer-style formation in the cafeteria after school as they wait for Miss Jenn. Even while he and Nini never were quite the best of friends (especially after the “forest of boys” incident) it was nice that they were still able to find some sort of solace in each other.
They break apart from each other, Nini squeezing his shoulder, just as Miss Jenn walks in.
“Okay, guys,” she claps, then pauses. “Wait, where’s Gina?”
Hesitant glances are spared at each other around the room as everyone settles on top and around the cafeteria tables, recalling the phone call they overheard at Ashlyn’s Thanksgiving party.
Ashlyn herself was the one to speak up after a moment. “I think she’s going through a family thing right now.”
Luckily, Miss Jenn brushes it off. “Ok, prayers to our Gina. I’m... really not sure what to say. You've all worked so hard. I’ve seen all of you grow so much,” she pauses, and Carlos feels himself holding his breath as if she’s about to spout a miracle.
Unfortunately, it’s never that easy. “But if we don’t have a theater, we don’t have a show.”
Immediately, a chorus of “what?” and disgruntled murmurs pass around the room as everyone contemplates what that means for the fate of the show. Carlos feels himself turn, letting his hand drop onto Seb’s thigh reassuringly as he looks between EJ and his boyfriend’s concerned expressions.
Carlos turns again, this time to face the drama teacher. “Miss Jenn, we’ve gotta do something,” he pleads.
“I think we… I don’t know. I guess we could consider other venues?” Concerned chatter turns curious as everyone begins to try and brainstorm ideas for where they could possibly move their show on such short timing and essentially no budget.
“Oh, what about the old Kingston downtown?” Ashlyn offers.
Miss Jenn winces. “It’s condemned.”
“The Lucky Ducky Puppet Pavillion?”
“It’s a massive Starbucks now.”
Inspiration hits Carlos like one last glowing star. “How about the El Rey?”
Pride swells in his chest as people point at him excitedly, quickly agreeing to the one possible theater they could actually pull off moving their show to. (Granted, nothing has been performed there in years, but a theater is a theater, right? )
Unfortunately, Miss Jenn is not as thrilled. “Any other ideas?” Carlos pauses from where he’s looking over Seb’s arm at his Google search of the theater, brow furrowing at her tone. “Miss Jenn, I feel like you just had a really weird reaction to what I just said.”
Typically, being blunt with their director is the only way he can get any comprehensible feedback from her.
“Sorry, what did you say?” she replies, eyes wide and uncharacteristically emotionless.
“Carlos was asking if we could try and use the El Rey theater,” Nini supplies for her.
“My Uncle Reuben is the listing agent, and the last thing they had there was a fashion show like, four years ago,” Carlos continues, before walking behind Miss Jenn as he excitedly dials a familiar number.
“Woah, this place has 500 seats!” He hears Seb exclaim, followed by Miss Jenn talking. Carlos isn’t able to concentrate on what she’s saying before the other line picks up, and his uncle greets him.
“Tío Rubén, ¿podemos usar el teatro para nuestro espectáculo?” Carlos asks, mustering up the best Spanish he can.
The response thankfully is a very excited “¡si, si, si!”
“Sounded like a ‘yes’ to me!” Ashlyn raises excitedly, mirroring Carlos’s arms out wide. Everyone around them cheers, and even Miss Jenn seems to brush aside whatever her deal is, accepting defeat.
“The El Rey theater it is!” she announces.
Carlos grins. “Miss Jenn, aren’t you excited?��
“Yes… I am that feeling,” she says quickly, then spins back around to face the rest of the cast and crew. “Wildcats, let's grab all the props and costumes that didn’t get damaged, and let’s loadout!”
It’s obvious she isn’t as excited as everyone else, but Carlos brushes it off in favor of celebrating their not-cancelled show. They’ll deal with Miss Jenn’s problem with the El Rey when they inevitably come to it.
Nini and Kourtney gather all the other juniors and seniors who have their driver's license, making plans with Carlos for transport straight to the other theater. They come up with a plan, car arrangements and all, and head into action.
Before Carlos can get too caught up with the crowd, he finds himself quickly pulled into yet another hug from Seb.
“My boyfriend is a genius,” he says once they pull apart, quiet enough that only the two of them hear. (Not that they’re specifically trying to hide it from anyone at this point, but it’s nice to have moments just shared between the two of them.)
Carlos immediately blushes at the words, not at all used to Seb referring to him as his boyfriend. He ducks his head, biting back the flushed grin threatening to cross his face. “I’m not really. There are only so many theaters in Salt Lake City. It’s just kind of luck, honestly, that my uncle is the listing agent.”
“Still, you scored us an actual theater with, like, lights and sound and an actual stage and audience chairs,” Seb reminds him. “I was fully prepared to suggest my barn, but I was really hoping we wouldn’t get that far.”
Carlos laughs. “The cows could have been part of the audience.”
“Yeah, of course. I’m sure they would totally no t be disruptive or anything,” Seb rolls his eyes, sarcasm heavy in his voice even with the smile adorned on his lips. His eyes drop again, though, as he steps a little closer to Carlos.
“Seriously, though. This has been the best three months of my life, so… Thank you for bringing back the show. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without it, besides lose all my confidence.”
Carlos smiles gently, heart just filled with so much happiness and love compared to before.
“The show won’t end no matter what, I swear. We could probably do it in the gym, everything considered,” he laughs lightly, trying to reassure the other boy. “Besides. The show doesn’t give you confidence. That’s all you, honey.”
(The pet name kind of slips out just like it did at the Thanksgiving party, and Carlos panics for a moment before remembering he’s allowed to do that now. Not to mention Seb’s reaction is just as cute.)
“Yeah,” he nods, then pulls Carlos into one more quick hug before tugging him towards the bomb shelter. “Come on, we have a tech rehearsal to attend.”
—
The transition from East High to the El Rey was surprisingly seamless. In fact, everything about their tech rehearsal was smooth sailing for the most part, minus the absent stage manager and the old tech. It was still a theater, though, and everything leading up so far after the news of the fire, leaving Carlos at least a little bit hopeful for the fate of the show even with the change in location.
Which is why he should have expected it when things got weird.
Carlos was not unfamiliar with subbing in for roles. Typically, if Ricky or Nini was absent for a rehearsal, Gina and EJ would step in like the dutiful understudies they were, leaving an ensemble member or himself to read for their missing roles depending on who was there. More than a few times Carlos ended up reading Ryan’s line outside of private rehearsals with Seb, same with some of the other background boys, even Chad once or twice.
Needless to say, although he wasn’t necessarily the most specialized in acting or singing like some of the members of the cast were, it didn’t mean he couldn’t. It just so happened that out of the three things that make someone a triple threat, he preferred dancing the most out of them.
So when Miss Jenn calls him up to read for Gabriella, he’s unbothered. It wasn’t like he was afraid to act in front of the cast and crew. It wasn’t even acting, anyway. It was just a staged reading for blocking lighting.
At least, that’s what he had assumed.
Carlos knows, realistically, after the incident with EJ in the hallway and Miss Jenn’s director's file that the older boy would have been curious about its contents. Part of him was just hoping that EJ had enough dignity and confidence left to not actually look through the box.
Once EJ started talking, Carlos knew that wasn’t the case.
“Look… I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you,” EJ responds to the cue he gives, more emotional than any high school performance ever needed to be. He never had a problem with overreacting; Carlos immediately knows what EJ had done.
“And now, I don’t want to stop. Ever.”
The more he continued, the lower Carlos’s eyebrows went down his forehead, until he’s tilting his head towards Miss Jenn inquisitively just to make sure he’s not the only one noticing something off.
Miss Jenn mirrors his expression. “That’s excellent… and a little weird,” she tells them, before giving Big Red lighting directions as Carlos turns back towards EJ.
“What is happening right now?” he gestures vaguely into the space between them.
“I’m just emoting, Carlos. Feel free to join me.”
Okay, yeah. He definitely read the file.
“This is the tech rehearsal, and I’m your choreographer,” Carlos reminds him, hoping to give EJ a reality check. Unfortunately, he seems unaffected as Miss Jenn asks them to run the scene again.
Apparently, EJ takes Miss Jenn’s reaction to “emote” even more, to the point where he thinks EJ might actually be crying.
“I never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you,” he leans closer, and Carlos leans farther. “And now, I don’t want to stop. Ever.”
The moment EJ reaches out to him, cupping Carlos’s cheek, his fight or flight kicks in. It feels like he’s staring into Carlos’s soul, fake tears rimming in his eyes. (If he wasn’t so incredibly confused, he would have maybe joked about it feeling like a hate crime.) Even as leans back so far it feels like his neck has disappeared into his collar, EJ doesn’t let up. When Miss Jenn finally calls EJ’s name, it feels like he’s going to be the one to cry now.
Their director gestures for him to come over.
“Are you sick?”
The pieces finally fully click in Carlos’s head. “Wait, I know what’s going on here-”
Before he can finish his sentence, a ladder falls over scarily close to him, and everyone flinches as they did earlier with the sandbag at the beginning of rehearsal, and Carlos realizes that maybe everything isn’t going as well as he originally hoped.
—
Carlos doesn’t talk to EJ later, not until Miss Jenn has a full breakdown after the mic check with Kourtney. Ashlyn is sent to talk to her while the rest of them chill out in the hallway.
He finds EJ on the floor with a box of popcorn in his hand that has to be incredibly stale and decides he may as well confront him.
“You looked in the audition files, didn’t you?” he approaches EJ, not even giving the bo a chance to finish the handful of popcorn.
All he gets in response is a muttered “Oh boy.”
Carlos sighs at his confirmed suspicion. “I tried to warn you, those were for Miss Jenn’s eyes only.”
“Not a problem,” EJ stands up. “Because apparently, I don’t have emotions.”
“Sometimes you do have a way of performing that doesn’t exactly feel authentic,” Carlos says as gently as possible the moment he hears EJ’s voice break a little bit. Feeling like you have too many emotions is one thing he’s dealt with more than a couple times; he can’t imagine what it must feel like to be that way and have everyone assume you don’t care at all because you don’t express them the way others do.
EJ wasn’t having it though. “Then what was I just doing on stage?”
“That felt more like an allergic reaction.”
“And what’s authentic to you, Carlos? A forest full of human beings?”
The words cut like ice, worming their way under his skin and confirming his biggest fear that y es, his castmates still think about that and they all think he’s stupid, that his ideas are stupid, even this whole El Rey idea was probably stupid too.
Carlos chooses to ignore the voices in his head. “That concept may need a little bit of time.”
“And so do I.”
The popcorn box is being pushed into his chest as EJ walks off, leaving Carlos wondering how everything could have possibly gone so wrong.
He debates looking for Seb, but he was caught up in conversation with Kourtney. Ashlyn was MIA, and Big Red had come around once to ask for his pizza preference but promptly left as soon as he got it, leaving Carlos on his own with the definitely stale popcorn that he was shoveling into his mouth just to do something with his hands.
Which is why it surprises him when EJ comes back a little bit later.
“Hey, um, it’s been a long time, should we go ask what’s going on?” EJ says slowly, like Carlos is the last person he wants to ask but the first person with all the answers about Miss Jenn.
Unfortunately, it seems more and more these days Carlos never has answers about Miss Jenn.
“She’s having a moment,” he says, unwilling to leave his spot from the floor. “Maybe you can go and ask her.”
“I don’t want to freak her out more with my lifeless eyes.”
Carlos snorts but doesn’t speak.
EJ takes it as his cue to leave. “Anyway, it’s…” he trails off, shaking his head as he goes to walk off, but Carlos jumps up quickly.
“You were right, by the way,” the words tumble out faster than he can stop them, letting out all the frustration and guilt he had been contemplating over the last half hour. “Forest of boys was a mess and coming here was a huge mistake. I have no business taking charge of anything.”
To his surprise, EJ steps closer. “No, you stepped up, dude. You always do. If I’m being honest, it’s…”
“Stupid?” Carlos supplies.
“Admirable.”
It’s not what Carlos is expecting to come from him, and the shock from it makes him stutter for a moment, tilting his back like he’s waiting for EJ to take it back.
“EJ, was… that a compliment?”
“Don’t make me start emoting,” he shakes his head, wincing like he can’t believe himself, but the words stay put.
Carlos just laughs. “Okay. Well, the words were a four but the sentiment was a solid ten.”
EJ laughs, followed by an awkward pause. “I’m gonna walk away now.”
He does, and Carlos stands there for a second trying to process what the heck just happened. His chest is just as tight as it was before, but the tension has left his shoulders a bit and everything feels a little bit less painful.
Just as he sits down once more, another person comes bounding over and drops right next to him. Carlos almost wishes they didn’t, until he realizes who it was
“Tough day?”
“The toughest,” Carlos sighs, and it makes Seb smile a bit as he drops his head down onto Carlos’s shoulder.
“What was EJ talking to you about?”
“Show stuff,” Carlos nearly shrugs, before remembering the weight of the other boy’s head on his shoulder. He gestures vaguely with his opposite hand instead. “Found some stuff out about his audition from Miss Jenn’s show file-”
“-Which is why he was acting weird, gotcha,” Seb finishes for him.
Carlos laughs quietly. “You jealous?”
Seb doesn't answer at first, instead picking up Carlos’s hand where it’s left at his side and traces patterns along his fingertips. Carlos takes it as a cue to keep teasing him.
“I mean, you have to admit, he is attractive,” he nudges. It gets Seb’s attention enough to lift his head off of Carlos’s shoulder, glaring at him with daggers made of cotton candy.
Carlos holds his hands up in defense. “Joking, joking!” he promises, laughing again. “I’m interested in someone else right now.”
Seb hums, laying back down on Carlos’s shoulder. “Who’s that?”
He doesn’t answer, just lacing their fingers together again. “What were you talking to Kourtney about before?”
“Show stuff,” Seb echoes from before, and Carlos rolls his eyes. “I just asked her if she was planning to quit makeup crew and join the show.”
“What’d she say.”
“That she’s not planning on quitting costumes and makeup anytime soon, but she’d be interested in branching out, essentially.”
Carlos hesitates. “Are you jealous of her?”
“Who, Kourtney?”
Carlos nods.
Seb sighs, unlacing their fingers so he can trace Carlos’s hand again. (He’s found it to be calming for Seb, either when he’s tired or nervous. Or both.)
“I’m not jealous. Maybe a little scared, just because I’m sure we have similar dream roles, but it just means competition I wouldn’t mind losing to. I would love to see her perform, you know?” he squeezes Carlos’s hand gently. “Same with you.”
“What about me?” he asks.
“Doing the show. You’re obviously a good dancer, and a good singer, and a good actor. You could easily play a lead,” Seb informs him.
Carlos chews on his lip. “Dunno. I’ve thought about it, but I’m not sure being on stage is my thing.”
“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Seb grins, leaning his head up so he can see Carlos. “I could be your Gabriella.”
“Oh, baby,” Carlos laughs, letting their conjoined hands fall onto his thigh. “I think you already are.”
—
#seblos#carlos rodriguez#seb matthew smith#high school musical the muiscal the series#hsmtmts#my writing#not a star#thank god for automatic italics on tumblr now
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart Thief
Before arriving at Dupont, Marc went to Vadim Bastille Collège and lived the life of those high school princesses you see in teen movies (Minus all of the drama, backstabbing, and the occasional bursting into song). He was liked by everyone including the teachers, he was president of the writing, fanfiction, and GSA club, had an amazing group of friends, and best of all, an amazing boyfriend.
Lucien Rebois was the most sought after boy at school. Tall, tan, captain of the fútbol team and took every team he was on to victory, super popular, charming, and the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. What more could a person want in a boyfriend? Girls would always try to ask him out, but he turned every single one of them down, even the most popular girls at school. Everyone wondered why until the day of the championship game when everything came to light
Marc and his friends cheered their school’s team on as they made the winning goal. While the crowd was still in a frenzy, Lucien grabbed a microphone and quieted everyone down when he said that he had to make an announcement…
“… Gimme an ‘M’!”, he shouted into the mic, forming an M with his arms. The crowd complied and mirrored him, while Marc and his friends just looked at each other in confusion
“M!”
“Gimme an ‘A’!”
“A!”
“Gimme an ‘R’!”
“R!”
Mehdi, a Cuban boy with brown hair dyed pink, and Vice President of the GSA squealed when he realized what Lucien was spelling, “He’s gonna say C!”. Syd, a a Vietnamese student nodded in agreement
Marc sputtered, “W-what?! No! He’s not!”
“Wait for it, Mar-Mar.”, Madelyn, a stocky Creole girl with a half-shaved head told him
“Gimme a ‘C’!”
“C!”
She smirked, “I knew it!”
“What does that spell?!”, Lucien asked as he pointed to the crowd. From where he stood, Marc blushed when he realized that Lucien had spelled his name
“Marc!”, the students shouted, a few looked at Marc grinning. He was sure this had to be a prank.
“Come on! Lemme hear you!”, he encouraged
“MARC!”, The students shouted again. Even a few teachers joined in. Lucien’s eyes never left the green-eyed boy, neither did the smile on his face as he spoke to him like they were the only people on the field
“I love you, Marc Anciel. Did I mention that?”, Marc smiles when he realized that the most popular boy in school was being sincere, and he truly felt this way about him. On the field, Marc could hear a few of the cheerleaders screaming with envy, knowing Lucien was gay and off the market. They ran away in tears
Lucien pointed towards the band, “Gimme a beat!”
“Un, deus, trois, quatre!”
Marc couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like something out of a fairytale. He looked around to see if this was real, and it was. When Lucien sang a love song about how he would give everything up for just one kiss, when he threw his jersey into the crowd, and Marc caught it, when he crowd-surfed over to him, and when he asked him to the dance… It was all real...
—
They were the cutest couple at school. They went on amazing dates, and went as a couple to every school event. Lucien even tried to switch classes so he could be closer to Marc, which the writer and other students found so sweet. Lucien has to be the best boyfriend ever. Generous, considerate, loyal, protective…
...A little too protective, though. Dating Lucien meant having the fútbol team on your side. When he heard about some homophobic student messing with Marc, Lucien sent the entire team to “take care of him”. No one’s seen that student in a while.
Lucien was also kind of clingy. Marc can’t remember the last time he’s hung out with his friends; he was always going on at least twenty dates with Lucien. Then one day, the students gave Marc a new nickname, ‘Lucien’s pet’, after he was given a red choker necklace with a silver heart dangling on a small chain, and on the heart was ‘L.R.’ He would always treat Marc like his property, but did it in a slow subtly way: Having his hands on Marc at all times, slowly separating him from his friends, then at one point, trying to dictate what he wore.
Madelyn was finally able to get some alone time with Marc and told him all about toxic relationships. And those examples sounded exactly like the situation he was in right now.
With some encouragement from his friends, Marc was finally found the courage to break up with Lucien after eight long months, and everything was back to normal. Marc didn’t have someone constantly following him around and keeping him away from his friends or threatening innocent students. Even when Lucien tried to get him back, he stood strong and didn’t give in. He almost did when Lucien swore he would be better, but when Marc caught him threatening the exchange student from Hong Kong who he thought had a crush on Marc, he had enough.
After explaining everything to his moms, they decided that it would be best if Marc switched schools to avoid Lucien. He was hesitant at first, knowing that he would have to leave all of his friends behind, but it was worth it to not have to deal with Lucien anymore. So, he said his goodbyes, made the Vice Presidents of the clubs the new presidents, and left, ready to start a new life at a new school
Lucien wouldn’t give up, though. He vowed that he would find Marc, and make him his again by any means necessary.
—
“Class, we have a new student!”, Mme. Bustier announced in her usual cheerful tone. A few of the students rolled their eyes and groaned at the mention of a new student, worried this one may be like Lila, “Please meet Lucien Rebois.”
Kim and Alix perked up at the mention of the name and nearly fell out of their seats when the athlete walked into the room. The other students, while not huge fans like Kim and Alix, gasped when they saw him
“Hi, nice to meet you all.”, he greeted with a smile
“Dude! You’re a legend!”, Kim shouted, “My cousin took me to every game you played, you are awesome!”
Lucien tried not to blush at the praise, “Well, I guess I was okay.”
“Okay?!”, Alix exclaimed, “You gotta join our fútbol team, we suck!”
“Alix!”, Bustier reprimanded and Lucien chuckled, “That’s quite enough.”
“I’ll think about it.”, he looked around, “So, where do I sit?”
Mme. Bustier pointed up the stairs, “Right next to Nathaniel.”, said boy waved so Lucien could see him. He walked up the stairs, paying no mind to the many admiring looks he was receiving, and sat down next to the redhead. The two sent each other polite smiles and focused on Bustier’s lecture
—
While doing classwork, Nathaniel’s eyes wandered to the bracelet wrapped around Lucien’s wrist. It was red, made of leather, and had a silver heart. It didn’t seem weird at first until he saw his seat mate’s initials on the heart. ‘Wonder who gave that to him.’, he thought, then went back to his classwork, only to be disrupted by the sound of the bell
“Okay, everyone, I’ll see you all after lunch.”, Mme. Bustier said as the students walked out of the classroom
While packing his messenger bag, Nathaniel dropped a draft of the Ladybug comic and went to pick it up, but Lucien beat him to it and looked at it in awe, “Dude, you make the Ladybug comics? I love these!”, he grinned
Nathaniel smiles at the compliment, “Thanks. I-I don’t make the whole comic though-“ He was cut off by Alix, running up the stairs and wrapping an arm around him, “He draws, and his partner writes.”
“Alix.”, he groaned, to which the pink-haired girl replied with a grin
“Partner as is significant other?”, Lucien asked when he realized what Alix meant. When he saw Nathaniel looking away in embarrassment and with what looked like fear, he eased his worries by saying, “Don’t worry, man, I’m like, super gay.”
Nathaniel smiled, relief taking over. Alix’s smile widened when she heard those words and she immediately wrapped her other arm around Lucien, “I love this boy!”
And the three of them left the classroom
—
Later at lunch, Lucien has drawn in a crowd as he talked a little about himself. Even Marinette joined in when she realized this new student was nothing like Lila and didn’t go on and on bragging about himself, or claiming he did something outlandish that could be proven false with a quick and easy Google search
“Well, I‘ve been captain of the fútbol team since middle school, and I’ll be honest, I was not ready to lead a whole team.”
Marinette whispered to Alya, “I like how modest he is.”, the Creole girl nodded in agreement
“Yeah, not like she who will not be named.”, Alya said with a roll of her eyes, then asked, “So Lucien, I hope you don’t mind going off-topic, but what do you think of Ladybug and Chat Noir?”
“They’re amazing!”, he exclaimed, “I mean, I’ve never seen them in person, only on the Ladyblog live-streams. My school was a little far from the action.”, he explained while Alya beamed at the mention of her blog, “Now, what’s this I’ve heard about ‘Ladybug’s best friend?’”
The students groaned. Marinette said, “We don’t talk about her.”
“Alright, enough about Rossi,” Nino bitterly said, then pointed to the bracelet resting on his wrist, “sweet band, man! Where’d you find that?”, the others admired the bracelet and repeated Nino’s question
Nathaniel noticed him blushing at the mention of it, “Well… It was my ex’s.” He raised an eyebrow, ‘His ex’s? Then why does it have his initials?’, he thought to himself then continued to listen
“Yeah, I gave him this after we dated for three months.”, he explained, “I, um… I’m not entirely over him yet.”, he admitted, making the girls and some boys awe, “Then he switched schools, and I haven’t really been the same.”
“That’s why you were playing sloppy at your games!”, Kim exclaimed, “Man, that must’ve been rough. If Ondine broke up with me, I’d probably be drowning in the pool.”, everyone laughed. Nathaniel then looked up and saw Marc walking in the cafeteria with Mireille. He smiled at how content and happy he looked, but then that feeling turned to concern when he saw him running away the minute he walked in
Nathaniel, wanting to make sure Marc was okay, excused himself, then ran after him. He heard footsteps, whirled around, and saw Mireille running towards him, “Is Marc okay?”, she asked, only to have Nathaniel respond with a shrug, “I don’t know. Help me look for him.”
“Damn long legs.”, Mireille cursed under her breath
--
“Anciel!”
Marc whipped around from the bathroom mirror and came face-to-face... Well, more like chest-to-face with Ismael Prisk, the school’s foreign exchange students from Pakistan, Marc’s classmate, and what some of the anime-fanatic students call a ‘tsundere’.
Marc sighed, “Ismael, I’m not in the mood.”
“Fight with your boyfriend?”, he asked in a snarky tone, making Marc roll his eyes at the boy’s usual behavior
“No! I-I just...”
Ismael continued to pry, “Because you always spend lunch with him, considering the fact that you two have no classes together, so I’m just naturally curious as to why you’d rather hide in the bathroom than use that precious hour to make out with him.”
‘Yeah right.’, Marc thought, “It has nothing to do with Nathaniel.”
The short brunette smirked, “Well, then I guess you won’t mind if I go fetch him, now would you?”, he heads for the door, only to be stopped when Marc grabs his wrist
“Don’t do that!”, he begged
“I won’t say anything if you tell me why you’re acting like a freak.”. he retorted while snatching his wrist out of Marc’s grasp
“... Okay...”, seeing Ismael backing towards the door, he quickly said, “It’s Lucien, okay?!”
“The new guy?”, Marc nodded, “Tall guy, captain of some team?”, he asked, and Marc nodded again, “So what?”
“... He’s my ex.”, Ismael made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, “And, I just don’t feel like running into him.”
“So you’re the guy who made him lose those games.”, Ismael taunted
“It wasn’t my fault!”, Marc exclaimed. Ismael flinched at his outburst, “I had to break up with him! He was just... I couldn’t take it! He was sweet at first, but he started treating me like I was his property or something! He even had me wear a choker with his initials on it!”
The stoic look on Ismael’s face became softer as he listened to Marc about Lucien
“He even threatened some of my friends, o-or anyone who talked to me because he thought they were flirting with me.”, a tear streamed down his face, “One guy even went to the hospital.”
Ismael asked, “Did you tell anyone?”
“I tried to go to the principal, but he said without any proof, there wasn’t anything that could’ve be done.”, he explained, “And Lucien always thought ahead. He did his threatening in rooms that didn’t have cameras, had the fútbol team backing him up if he was ever accused of something, and his aunt is a member of the school board, so he always got away with everything.”
Ismael frowned, “Damn, that’s... That’s just awful.”
Marc nodded, “I finally broke up with him, and I switched schools. But now that Lucien’s here, I’m worried he’ll do something to Nath when he finds out we’re dating. So that’s why you can’t say anything!”
“Dude, Lucien’s gonna find out you go here sooner or later.”, Ismael said with a shake of his head, “You just gotta avoid him, and hope he turns out like Rossi.” He smiled at the thought of Lila rotting away in her prison cell
Marc shuddered at the memory of how he almost killed Lila. But putting that thought aside, he realized Ismael was right. Lila slipped up and got arrested, so maybe Lucien will too and get what he had coming a long time ago, “I guess... Thanks-”
Ismael cut him off and headed for the door, “Don’t mention it. To anyone.”, and he left
—
Mireille walked out of the library, “Well, he’s not in there.”, she turns to Nathaniel who’s walking out of a classroom, “No luck?”
He shook his head, “No. I’m getting worried; why did he just run off like that?”
“Ask him yourself.”, Mireille narrowed her eyes as the boy approached her and Nathaniel
“What are you talking about, Ismael?”, she asked curtly, “Where’s Marc?”
The brunette ignored her and turned to Nathaniel, “Kurtzberg, I suggest you stay by your boyfriend’s side at all times, especially now that Lucien’s here.”, he warned
“What?”
Ismael held his hands up, sensing the rising hostility in the redhead’s voice, “He told me a couple of things about Rebois. Things that might concern you.”
“Well what did he say? What did Lucien do?”, he asked, wanting to get right to the point, but the other boy merely shook his head
“Like I said: ask him yourself.”, he answered with a pointed look before walking away from the two very confused students
“I’ll talk to him at art club.”, Nathaniel told Mireille before heading back to the cafeteria
—
“So, Nath,”, Lucien sat down in his seat, “I was just wondering, who’s your partner with the Ladybug comic?”, he asked, making Nathaniel tense.
Should he say anything? If what Ismael said was true, then Lucien may hurt Marc. He needed to keep quiet until he has enough information on this guy to know if Marc is safe around him
“Well, he prefers privacy.” he answered, “He doesn’t really like all of the attention.”, it wasn’t really a lie. Marc hated being the center of attention, yet he’s the writer for the most popular comic in Paris
“Huh.”, was Lucien’s response before he turned his attention to the teacher
‘...Okay.’
Throughout the lesson, Nathaniel felt like he was being watched, like someone was plotting to set him on fire. Maybe he was just being paranoid because he was worried about Marc... Yeah, that was it. No one’s out to get him, and he did not just see Lucien glaring at him as if he were Hawkmoth himself
—
Lucien knew what he saw, and he knew what he heard. He knew he saw the silky black hair of his love in the hallway, the bright red hoodie that hid his beautiful frame, and the gentle green eyes that made his heart melt...
He found him. After all this time, he found Marc Anciel. And he had the Ladyblog to thank for that. Even as a monochromatic supervillain who could reverse people, he still looked breath-taking. When he watched the live-stream, he instantly recognized the beautiful Akuma, and insisted on switching schools so he could find him. And who would’ve guessed that they’d end up in the same school again? It was fate, they were meant to stay together.
But then he heard Nathaniel Kurtzberg being referred to as Marc’s boyfriend... That nobody stole Marc away from him: The school golden boy, the one people would kill to date. Well, he was going to get him back. They had art club together, probably to work on the comic. How did he not recognize Marc as the writer? The word choice, the realistic dialogue... Just another thing Lucien loved about him
When that bell rings at the end of the day, Marc will be his again.
—
“You alright, Nath?”, Kim asked Nathaniel as he shut his locker closed and slipped on his swim cap, “You seem a little on edge.”
He shrugged, “... It’s Lucien.”
The Vietnamese boy smiled dreamily at the mention of the name, “Yeah, he’s awesome,” but then frowned, “What about him?”
“Well, I heard some stuff about him.”, he answered as he placed a book in his locker, “And it involved Marc.”, Kim raised an eyebrow, “Ismael told me to keep Marc away from him.”
“Ismael Prisk?”, he nodded, “You actually believe that guy? He’s not exactly the nicest guy, Nath. Plus, Lucien’s chill, he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Marc... Not like Lila.”
The artist rolled his eyes at the mention of the Italian, and Kim’s face contorted into disgust
“I can’t believe I thought she was telling the truth.”, Kim said, ashamed, “I get injured all the time, and I come back with bruises and casts. She falls down the stairs and somehow comes back without a singer scratch.”
“Well, I’ll admit, she was pretty convincing.”, Nathaniel admitted with a look of embarrassment, “She almost had me convinced, but then she said she was dating the creator of the Ladybug comic.”
Kim facepalms, “God, me and the others are so dumb.”
Nathaniel chuckled, then shut his locker, “Well, I’m gonna go and see if Marc’s alright.”
“I bet my lucky speedo that Lucien is a good guy!”
Nathaniel yelled back as he walked out the room, “You can keep those!”
—
Meanwhile, in the art room, Marc was listening to music on his headphones and writing in his journal as he waited for Nathaniel to arrive. He needed to relax after the day he’s been having- He’s managed to avoid Lucien, so that’s good... Now he just had to keep doing so until graduation.
This was one of the places where he was safe. Lucien was never really into the arts, so there was no way he’d ever actually come in here
“Lucien, hi!”, Marc heard Rose greet as the song he was listening to faded out. He dropped his pencil in horror
‘Oh, God.’
“So, an athlete, and an artist?”, Alix let out a low whistle, “I’m liking you more and more, man.”
‘They’re all in the same class, of course, they’re friends.’
“Well, not really.”, he responded with a laugh then looked around the room, “I just came to check the place out. I’m liking the calm vibe here.”
Juleka shrugged as she strummed a few chords on her guitar, “It is pretty quiet here sometimes.”
‘Okay, they’re distracting him. Maybe if I sneak out quietly, he won’t notice me.’, Marc slowly gathered his notebook and pencils in his bag, not wanting to make too much noise
“Marc! Have you met Lucien?!”, Rose asked, and at that moment, Marc wanted to die
“...”
When he didn’t move, Juleka raised an eyebrow, “Marc, are you okay?”
Before he could respond, Marc felt a strong hand being placed on his shoulder and heard, “Hello, my Emerald.”, the pet name that made him want to throw up
“Who’s Emerald?”, Alix asked
Lucien feigned surprise and answered, “Oh, did Marc not tell you?”, he holds up his wrist with the choker acting as a bracelet, “We were boyfriends. I call him Emerald because of his lovely eyes.”
Alix, Rose, and Juleka weren’t sure how to respond to that. Do they ask follow-up questions, tell him to leave before Nathaniel arrives, or just kick him out right now because he’s getting a little too close to Marc?
“Okay, okay!”, Alix approaches the two and removes Lucien’s hand from Marc’s arm, “Reunion’s over, you should go try out for a team, Marc has a boyfriend,” she points to the door, “you can leave now.”
“What’s the rush?”, Lucien asked as he placed his hands on Marc’s shoulders and gave them a little squeeze, making the writer shudder, “Can’t a guy just talk to his ex without someone trying to make him leave?” He gives the sleeve of Marc’s jacket a little tug, grinning when it slides off his shoulder a little bit
“I don’t hear you talking to each other.”, Alix spat
He huffed, “Fine.”, then turns to Marc, “Emerald, I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since took our break.”
Marc mumbled, “We broke up.”
“And I want you back.”, he leaned in close to the petrified boy and made escaping impossible. He had Marc pinned against the table, with his arms on either side of him, “Come on, Emerald. Let’s finish where we-“, he didn’t finish as he was pushed away from Marc by none other than Alix
“You have five, fucking, seconds.”, she snarled
Lucien smirked, “Well, I better make the most of it.”, he sent Marc a wink, only infuriating Alix even more.
—
As he made his way towards the art room, Nathaniel’s phone started buzzing. He checked the texts, all caps, and angry emojis
Alix: GET IN HERE BEFORE I SNAP HIS NECK!😡😡😡
Rose: HURRY! ALIX IS GONNA RIP HIS HEAD OFF! 😱
Alix: FHE)3&HE D#%UWUDK WH3$&
Juleka: Alix used her phone to smack him. Also, I think Marc’s having a panic attack!!
At that last text, Nathaniel ran as fast as he could. When he made it to the classroom, his eyes widened at the scene before him- Alix had Lucien in a headlock while Rose tries to pry her off, and Juleka had her arms wrapped around Marc as he sat on the floor
“What the hell is going on?!”, he yelled, grabbing everyone’s attention, except for Marc’s. Juleka helped Marc up and walked him over to his boyfriend. Nathaniel cupped his cheeks in his hands, “It’s okay, Rainbow. I’m here.”, he took one of his shaky hands and kissed it, “It’s okay.”
”Get your hands off of him!”, Lucien snarled, making Marc tighten his arms around Nathaniel, and hide his face in the crook of his neck
Alix jabbed his chest with her finger, “He’s having a panic attack, you dick!”
Nathaniel was suddenly pulled out of Marc’s hold, and the writer pulled his hood over his head, shaking and sobbing as the two boys yelled at each other
“Get out of here!”
“Make me, twerp!”
Marc feels a hand on his shoulder. He holds it, thinking it’s Nathaniel, Alix, Juleka, or Rose. When he looks up and paled when he realized it was Lucien
“Get your hands off of him!”, Rose screamed as Juleka stormed over and yanked the boy away from Marc
“Emerald, you’re going to let them-“
“DON’T CALL ME THAT!”, he sobbed
“Get out of here, Rebois.”, Nathaniel growled
“Over my dead- OW!”
Alix had twisted his arm behind his back and is walking him towards the door, “And stay out!”, she pushed him out, then shut the door. Once Lucien regained his composure, he looked around and saw a couple of students giving confused looks and whispering. He stormed off in a huff.
—
“The owner of heart once so full of life only to have it be torn apart, then shattered, and now seeking to take back what was his.”, Hawkmoth holds out his hand, and a white butterfly lands in his open palm. He covers the butterfly, and it’s engulfed with dark magic, turning the butterfly into an Akuma. It flutters away
“Fly, my little Akuma. And evilize him!”
—
Lucien sat outside on the steps of the school, scrolling through photos on his phone, all are of him and Marc when they were dating- Them holding hands while roller-skating, Marc wearing his letterman jacket at a fútbol game, dancing at the spring formal, kissing in his car at a drive-in... They looked so happy... He shoved his phone back in his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the choker necklace wrapped around his wrist. While doing this, he felt something brush up against his finger, and suddenly, he felt as if someone was in his head
“Heart Thief, I am Hawkmoth. I too understand the pain of losing someone you love. Now you can take back what’s yours. In return, you must give me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”
Lucien wanted to say no. He’s seen what this guy was capable of, but... He’d have Marc all to himself again. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He had to get him back and away from those friends of his. Especially that red-haired twerp...
“I’m coming for you, Marc.”, he smirked as the black mist bubbled up from the choker and surrounded him
Hawkmoth froze when he heard that name. ‘Marc Anciel’ How could such an innocent-sounding name sound so malevolent? He, a mere child managed to silence and overpower him, the most feared villain in all of Paris, and then had the nerve to threaten him... It was quite impressive. Marc was now second on his ‘Must Akumatize’ list, and at the top was Marinette. Even though Lila had been arrested and was no longer a threat to her emotional stability, the Eurasian girl would still make a powerful Akuma- Not one caused by her friends betraying, but definitely, something that would make the heroes fall to their knees
—
“It’s okay, Rainbow. He’s gone.”, Nathaniel whispered as he had his arms wrapped around Marc’s frame, “He won’t hurt you, okay?”
“God! I can’t believe I actually looked up to that guy!”, Alix screeched, “When I see him, I’m just gonna... I’ll...”, she chucks a spray paint can at the door, M. Haberkorn walks in carrying a few blank canvases just as the can drops to the floor with a ‘clank’. “What’s going on here?”, he asked with concern when he felt the tension in the room
Alix sighed, “Sorry, M. Haberkorn. We just... Ugh.”, she slumped into her seat
The art teacher looks and sees Marc in Nathaniel’s protective hold, “Is Marc okay?”
Juleka answers, “We had a run-in with the new student.”
Rose adds, “Yeah, and he was making Marc really uncomfortable! He kept touching him and calling him Em-“, seeing Nathaniel shake his head, she rephrased, “a name that he didn’t like. And he was, I guess flirting with Marc even when we said he and Nathaniel were dating!”
M. Haberkorn frowned. How dare another student come into his classroom and harass one of his children students? “Well, I’ll be having a talk with M. Damocles about this first thing tomorrow.”, he said sternly, “That boy will not set another foot in this room, or hurt you again, Marc.”
Marc lifted his head and sent the kind man a faint smile
Then suddenly, destroying the calm atmosphere were screams coming from the students who stayed after school. Juleka ran out into the hall and saw the Akuma. He wore a black mask with a small red heart above his right eye, a suit where the top half was is tailcoat that was red at the top and black at the bottom, and the ends of the tailcoat formed a broken heart. He wore black pants, black fingerless gloves that revealed his red nails, and came up to his biceps, red platform boots with metal heart buckles that came up to his knees, and in his hand was a black choker necklace with a red metal heart. She gasped when she realized the Akuma was Lucien, then went back in the room, shut the door, and told the others, “Lucien’s an Akuma!”
Alix clenched her fists, “Oh, hell no!”
M. Haberkorn shushed her, “We can’t let him know we’re still in here.”
Everyone froze when they heard the Akuma’s footsteps were getting louder as he approached the room. Nathaniel kept Marc in a protective hold as the taller boy silently cried... The footsteps soon faded away, and they all let out relieved sighs, but this moment was short-lived when the door suddenly blew off its hinges, revealing Heart Thief.
He looked around the room until his eyes land on Marc and smirks, “Oh, Emerald.”, he drawled out, “Did you miss me?”
Alix got into a fighting stance, Nathaniel moved Marc behind him, Rose and Juleka backed away but still stood close by Marc. M. Haberkorn scowled when he realized this was the student that harassed Marc
Sternly he said, “You’re not welcome here. Leave.”, but the villain just laughed
“Not until I take back what’s mine.”, he held up the collar, making Marc back away at the sight of it, “Emerald, come here.”
Alix tightened her fists, “If you think he’s gonna listen to you, you must be-!”, she silenced herself when she saw a red dagger in the shape of a heart appear in the palm of his hand
“Emerald, you know how much I hate waiting,” he chastised, then summoned four more daggers he then sent towards Alix, Rose, Juleka, Nathaniel, and M. Haberkorn. Everyone ducked out of the way, and the daggers hit a sculpture, forming cracks along the surface before it crumbled into bits. Marc looked up and didn’t have time to react before Heart Thief threw the choker at him, and it wrapped itself around his neck. Marc tried to rip it off but then suddenly came to a halt, and his arms dropped to his sides. He and the Akuma locked eyes, and Marc no longer saw Heart Thief, he saw Lucien- His devoted, caring boyfriend. Nathaniel got up, and his eyes widened in shock when he saw that Marc’s irises were now a bright red
He held his hand, “Rainbow?”, but got no response
Heart Thief sent the boy a sneer. His look softened when he looked to Marc, “Emerald, come here.”, he commanded sweetly as his eyes glowed the same shade of red as Marc’s irises
Marc stood, and with no hesitation, ran over to Heart Thief. Rose reached for his hand, but he pulled it away and went to nuzzle up against his chest
Nathaniel looked heartbroken, and even more when Marc and Heart Thief passionately kissed each other, “Oh, I knew you’d come to your senses, Emerald.”, he gently scooped him off his feet, and sent Nathaniel a smirk when Marc wrapped his arms around his neck, “Perhaps I should be calling you Ruby now.” Before he could head out, M. Haberkorn stood at the doorway
“Unhand him this instant!”, he shouted in a tone none of the art students have ever heard him use. Heart Thief just scoffed, settled Marc in his left arm, then he used his free hand to grab the man by his shirt and fling him across the room, causing him to crash into some paint cans that splattered him with a mess of colors. Rose and Juleka went to help him up while Alix and Nathaniel ran after Heart Thief, who fled during the commotion.
While running, Heart Thief summoned six heart-shaped daggers and threw them at Nathaniel and Alix. They weren’t hit, but dodging the daggers slowed them down and allowed Heart Thief to get away
He made his way outside, scaring off a few civilians, but he didn’t care. He finally had Marc back, and once he brought the Miraculous to Hawkmoth, they’ll never be separated ever again
“I told you,” he whispered, “I’d get you back, my Ruby. Nothing will keep us apart.”, he kisses Marc’s pink lips again, but was cut short when he heard, “PUT HIM DOWN!”
Standing at the top of the steps was Nathaniel, seething with rage and with visible tears streaming down his face. Heart Thief rolled his eyes and leaped away
“NO!”
—
“Excellent, Heart Thief. It shouldn’t be too long before Ladybug and Chat Noir arrive. Once you take their Miraculous, he shall be yours forever.”
Heart Thief smiled as he looked down at Marc, his hair blowing in his beautiful face as he ran, “That’s all I want.”
—
Meanwhile, in his room, Adrien was just sitting at his desk, watching footage of the Ladyblog on his three computer monitors, when he suddenly heard screams from outside. He rushed over to his window and looked to see Heart Thief leaping from roof to roof with Marc in his arms
“Is that Marc?”, he asks himself before turning to Plagg, sitting on the couch and munching on some Camembert, “Plagg, we gotta go!”
The Kwami of destruction groaned, “But I just got comfy!”
“Now!”
Plagg, Claws out!
—
Marinette was just sitting on her balcony, flipping through a fashion magazine while Tikki sat on her shoulder eating a macaron. Before the goddess of creation could take another bite, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye
“Marinette, look!”, she looked to where the Kwami was pointing and saw the Akuma running on the roof of a building. She took a closer look and shock crossed her face when she saw Marc cradled in his arms, “Marc?!”
“He must’ve been kidnapped.”, Tikki deduced
“Well, we’re gonna get him back!”
Tikki, Spots On!
—
Back at school, Nathaniel was panicking. He just lost Marc to... To... To that sleaze! What’s even worse is that he could make Marc do whatever he wants. He didn’t even want to imagine that
“Nath, is gonna be okay.”, Alix tried to reassure him
“No it’s not!”, he yelled, “You saw what he was doing to Marc! He’ll- Oh God!”
“Hey,” Alix grabs his shoulders, “he’s not gonna do anything to Marc, okay? Ladybug and Chat Noir will take care of this like they always do. A-and maybe they’ll call on you again since this is a personal thing.”
Nathaniel didn’t care about being Royt Hon again. He just wanted Marc back, “You think so?”, Alix nodded and pointed up towards the red-clad hero swinging across the city
“Once this is over, I’m giving Lucien a piece of my mind.”, she snarled
—
Couples ran out of the way or stood frozen in shock as Heart Thief and Marc walked across Pont Des Arts
“Oh, Ruby. I’m so glad to have you back.”, Heart Thief said as he combed his fingers through Marc’s hair
The writer held onto the Akuma’s free arm and sighed, “I missed you, Lucien.”
“And you don’t love anyone else, only me?”, Heart Thief asked, eyes glowing again as he softly caressed Marc cheek, causing his pink lips to curl into a smile
“No, I only love you.”, even if it was fake, Heart Thief didn’t seem to care, he was just thrilled to have Marc back in his arms and listening to his every word. There was just one thing that could make this even better
“Ruby, I never really liked how that hoodie hid your gorgeous figure.”, Heart Thief said, biting his bottom lip as he messed with the jaw string, “Remove it for me?”
Marc’s eyes flickered from crimson to green, and for a millisecond, he saw Heart Thief and not Lucien, but the Akuma didn’t seem to notice and just waited for Marc to do as he said, “L-love to.”, raising his hand to his shoulder, he began to slide the jacket off, when a voice called out,
“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”
Ladybug and Chat Noir arrived on the scene. Civilians fled, knowing how destructive these Akuma battles could get. Heart Thief stood in front of Marc and sent a glare the heroes’ way as he summoned two daggers, “You will not take my love away from me!”
Ladybug ignored him but kept her yoyo ready in case she would have to deflect those daggers. She furrowed her brow when she saw Marc, clinging onto the Akuma’s arm. That’s when she noticed his eyes were no longer green, and realized he must be being controlled by the Akuma
“Marc, whatever spell he has on you, you need to break free from it!”
“Spell?”
“Yeah, your eyes are supposed to be green! And you love Nathaniel, not him!”, Chat pointed an accusing finger at the Akuma
Suddenly, Marc felt a tinge of pain in his head and held it tightly, causing Heart String to look at him with concern, “My Ruby, are you alright?”
His eyes flickered again, but this time Heart Thief noticed, and so did the heroes, “I-I’m fine.”
Heart Thief let out a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to Ladybug and Chat, summoning ten more daggers, each one sharpened to a fine point and ready to pierce through the heroes, “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave me and my Ruby alone.”, he threatened, then sent the daggers at the heroes before gathering Marc in his arms and running off
Ladybug spun her yoyo, Chat spun his staff, and the two deflected each dagger. They either flew off and fell into the water, or were embedded in the floor or nearby benches. Once there were no more daggers coming for them, Ladybug and Chat swung and vaulted after Heart Thief
--
Heart Thief knew his control over Marc was weakening when he saw his eyes turning green again. He had to remove any memories of Nathaniel, seeing as the mere mention of his name would break his control over Marc
After looking around to make sure the heroes were nowhere in sight, Heart Thief stopped on the nearest rooftop and set Marc gently onto the roof, “Lucien, why did you stop?”, he asked as Heart Thief took his hand in his.
“Marc,” he started, “my Ruby.”, his eyes started glowing again, “What do you remember about Nathaniel Kurtzberg?”
Marc’s eyes began flickering again, rapidly, before settling on red, “We go to school together.”, he answered. Heart Thief’s eyes became brighter, “He... He likes to draw. I think.”
He smirked, “What else?”
“... He has brown hair?”
“Anything else you remember about Nathaniel?”, his bright red eyes became a menacing blood red
“...” Marc’s face contorted in confusion as he tried to remember who this boy was. The name sounded so familiar to him, but he couldn’t figure out why “I... I don’t know who that is.”
‘He doesn’t remember him.’, “Are you sure?”, he asked, needing confirmation
“No.” He tilted his head slightly, “Am I supposed to?”, Heart Thief kissed his forehead before answering, “No, my Ruby. He’s not important. Never has been, never will be.”, his muscular arms wrapped around Marc’s frame and pull him in for a hug, which the entranced boy gladly returned
“Found you!”
Having no time to react, Ladybug’s yoyo smacked Heart Thief in the face, making him stumble and fall on his back. Marc went to help him up but found himself being restrained by Chat
“Let me go!”, he shouted, writhing in the leather-clad hero’s hold, “Lucien!”, he called out to the Akuma who was tied up by Ladybug’s yoyo. Heart Thief swept her leg, sending Ladybug down, and freed himself from the magic weapon. Chat Noir ran after him, staff ready, but Heart Thief grabbed the staff and used it to fling him into Ladybug just as she was getting up.
Once the heroes were down, Heart Thief gathered Marc in his arms and leaped away just as Ladybug and Chat Noir got back up and situated themselves
“And I thought cats were territorial.”, Chat joke as he picked up his staff, “Did you see anything on Romeno, that might have been the akumatized object?”
Ladybug shook her head, “Nothing. But we have to keep looking.”, then she yelled out,
“LUCKY CHARM!”, the object that fell into her hands was...
“Marc and Nathaniel’s comic?”
Chat examined the cover, “Issue twelve. The one where Might Illustrator saves Inverser from Scarlet Moth’s control.”, Ladybug raised an eyebrow, to which Chat responded with a shrug, “What? I like their work.”
Ladybug flipped through the pages until she stopped on a specific one. Might Illustrator held Inverser in a loving embrace as the two kissed, and Inverser’s red and black suit faded back to white and black. Ladybug got an idea, “Chat, go after Heart Thief. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded, “On it, m’lady!”, then vaulted away
--
Back at Dupont, Alix was comforting Nathaniel, who was crying into her shoulder, “Okay, so it’s been almost two hours, but Ladybug and Chat Noir will get Marc back!” she reassured, “It almost took them an entire day to defeat some Akumas.”, she reminded him, but Nathaniel couldn’t listen, not when Marc was in the arms of some creep
He just wanted him back...
“Nathaniel!”, Ladybug called out as she landed, startling the two, “I need your help!” she looked down at the comic with her Lucky Vision, then at Nathaniel. Both were ladybug-patterned
Alix gave Nathaniel’s arm a nudge, “Is Royt gonna make a comeback?”
“Not exactly.” she holds out her hand to the redhead, “Right now, Marc needs you. Will you come with me?”
With a look of determination, Nathaniel takes the superheroine’s hand, “Let’s get Marc back.”
“And when you see Lucien,” Alix holds up her fist and smirks, “give him one of these for me, ‘kay, bud?”
Nathaniel gave his friend a nod as Ladybug wrapped her arm around him, “Oh, I’ll be giving him much worse.”, then Ladybug swung away with Nathaniel in her arms
--
After five minutes of running, Heart Thief landed right outside of the Le Grand Blanche Hotel. By the door was a sign that read, ‘Jemart and Mell Wedding in Banquet Hall’ His lips curled into a grin, “Ruby. How would you like us to always be together?”, all he got in response was a kiss on the cheek.
“Heart Thief, what is the meaning of this? I want my Miraculous!”
“And you’ll get them. Right after I make Marc mine forever.” at that, he carried Marc into the hotel.
It took almost ten minutes, but Heart Thief finally found the banquet hall and set Marc down on the floor before using his enhanced strength to punch the door down, much to the alarm of everyone in attendance at the wedding. The groom was just about to put the ring on the bride’s finger.
Heart Thief smirked, “Sorry to interrupt such a lovely ceremony, but this will only take a moment.”
“Marc?” Standing from her seat was Madelyn, dressed in a black vest with a red bow tie, a white dress shirt, black pants, and black heels, “What’s goin’ on; Why are you with an Akuma?”
Marc gave his old friend a confused look, “I’m not with an Akuma, I’m with Lucien.” the girl narrowed her eyes at the Akuma and instantly recognized him, “Rebois.”, she sneered
“Jemart. I thought the name sounded familiar.”
The muscular girl rolled up her sleeves and stormed over to the Akuma, “After all this time, even as an Akuma, you’re still a creep.” her look softened when she turned to Marc, “Mar-Mar, whatever lies this boy has been telling you, don’t believe him.”
He gave her an incredulous look, “He said he loves me.”
“Marc,” she grabs his shoulders, “you broke up with him for a reason! He’s possessive, he threatened your friends, he made you wear a collar!” she looks at the black choker around his neck, “And he still is. Mar-Mar, you’re one of my best friends. Please. Believe me when I’m telling you that Lucien- Heart Thief- Whatever! He’s using you...”
It’s a stare down between the two. Marc’s crimson red eyes started flickering again and were becoming a forest green color until Heart Thief squeezed his hand, and his eyes went back to red “Maddy, please move.”
A tear forms out of the eye of the usually tough girl, “Marc-”
In one swift motion, Madelyn was pinned to the wall by Heart Thief’s daggers, each one just an inch away from piercing her body. Marc looked back at her with concern until Heart Thief linked their arms and walked him down the aisle, prompting the bride and groom to move out of the way. The priest would have run too, but Heart Thief’s glare kept him in place.
“O-okay then.”, the priest stammered, “So, do you, Heart Thief, t-take Marc to b-be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.”, he answered quickly
“Of course.”, he said before turning to Marc, “And do y-you, Marc, take Heart Thief to-to be your la-lawfully wedded husband?”
“I-”
Before he could say ‘do’, someone yelled out, “I OBJECT!”
Everyone looked to see Paris’ heroes and Nathaniel standing at the doorway. Ladybug’s earrings had all five dots, having refueled Tikki before they arrived, and she was giving Chat a bored look, “Was that necessary?” he shrugged, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Nathaniel’s eyes didn’t leave Marc for a second. He always fantasized about seeing Marc at an altar, but not like this.
“Crashing my wedding?!” How tacky are you?” Heart Thief shouted, pulling Marc closer to him
Nathaniel sneered, “I’m tacky?! You brainwashed my boyfriend!”
“He’s marrying me willingly! Right, Ruby?” Marc nodded.
Ladybug threw her yoyo at Heart Thief. It wrapped around his ankles, and she flung him across the room, making him crash into a wall. Nathaniel made his way over to Marc, but he ran over to the wounded Akuma, and Nathaniel couldn’t hold back his tears anymore.
Ladybug then called for her, “LUCKY CHARM!”
And in her hands was... “A magnet?”
While she looked for a way to use the lucky, Chat Noir quickly dragged Marc over to Nathaniel while Heart Thief was down, “Nathaniel, get him somewhere safe.” With a nod, Nathaniel pulled Marc out of the banquet hall, and the battle began
--
“Where are you taking me?!”, Marc asked as Nathaniel continued to pull him through the building, with some struggle since Marc kept trying to pull his hand out of his grasp
“I’m getting you away from him, Marc!”, he answered, then the two made their way into a stairwell
“What?! How do you even know my name; who are you?!”
After hearing those last three words, Nathaniel’s heart shattered. He stopped on his tracks and look Marc right in his eyes, “You... You don’t know who I am?”
Marc shook his head, “No. Look, I-I need to go back, or Lucien’s gonna-”
“Forget about Lucien!”, he shouted, “He’s hurt you in the past, and is still doing so! Marc... He doesn’t love you.”
“H-he said he-”
Nathaniel was now crying at this point, “He doesn’t mean it... I know you don’t remember me, o-or everything we’ve been through together, and you probably won’t believe me when I tell you this, but I love you! I can’t lose you, you’re... You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me...” Seeing no change on Marc’s confused face, he slid down the wall and tucked his head into his knees and silently cried, “I love you, Rainbow.”
Marc just stood, not wondering what to do right now. He wanted to go back to Lucien, but this boy was claiming that he was a part of his life right now and is clearly upset... Lucien wouldn’t mind if he stayed back to comfort... Nick? Noah?... Nathan... What did Chat Noir call him earlier?... Nathaniel! That was his name. It sounded so nice.
Marc’s eyes flickered again and became a red-orange color. “... A comic”, Nathaniel looked up in confusions, tears still streaming down his face, “We... We worked on a comic together.”
Nathaniel wiped some of his tears away, “Y-yeah. Yeah!”, he got on his feet, and held Marc’s hands, “Do you remember anything else?”
"... W-we became friends after Reverser?”
Nathaniel grinned when he realized Marc’s memories of him were slowly returning, and his eyes were going back to their normal color with each memory, “Yes! That’s right! What else?”
“Uh... I had to sleep over your house after Alix made us watch a scary movie.”, his eyes faded to yellow-orange
Nathaniel blushed at the memory. Marc’s parents were out of town that week and he did not wanna sleep alone, so he offered to let him sleep over his house. In his room... In his bed.
“We went to Comic Con together as Ruby and Sapphire,” he chuckled, “sold a few of our comics, and... And... You told me you love me.”
“I do. And I always will... Marc... My Rainbow. If you take off that choker, I can guarantee that you’ll know who actually loves you, and you’ll know who you love.”, Nathaniel wrapped his arms around Marc’s waist and pulled him in for a hug. His hugs felt so different from Lucien’s; they were warmer. “If that person is still Lucien, know that I’ll never stop loving you.”
Marc slowly reached for his choker and undid the clasp. Once the offending material was no longer around his neck, Marc threw it to the floor, causing it to break.
“Rainbow?”, Nathaniel whispered. He looked and saw Marc’s beautiful green eyes once again, and brimming with tears
“I missed you.”
“... I missed you too!”
The two kissed, hands clasped together and fitting perfectly, and bodies pressed against each other. This tender moment was cut short when they heard a flapping sound and looked to see an Akuma fluttering beside them. Nathaniel glared at the thing that almost took away his boyfriend, and snatched it in his hands
“Nath!”, Marc exclaimed worriedly, “Are you okay.”
He nodded, “Yeah. I’m way too happy to become Akumatized.” Marc smiled and kissed his cheek
--
The two made their way back into the banquet hall and took in the scene before them. The wedding guests took cover on the other side of the room, and Heart Thief was dangling over a hole in the floor that was no doubt Cataclysmed. Ladybug’s yoyo, which had been thrown over a chandelier, was tied around the Lucky Charm magnet that was stuck to the metal heart-shaped buckles on his boots. Ladybug and Chat Noir kept looking to see where the Akumatized object was until Nathaniel cleared his throat and the heroes turned their attention to him and Marc.
Ladybug smiled, “Marc! You’re back!”
“That’s great, but we still can’t find the Akuma.”, Chat said as he continued looking
“Oh, it was in Marc’s choker necklace.” Nathaniel said, chuckling when Ladybug and Chat facepalmed
Ladybug retracted her yoyo and Heart Thief fell back into the hole before crawling back out. With a nod from the spotted heroine, Nathaniel opened his hands and released the Akuma, only for it to be caught by Ladybug’s yoyo
“No more evil-doing for you, little Akuma. Time to de-evilize! Gotcha!”
The newly purified butterfly fluttered out of the yoyo, “Bye-bye, little butterfly.”, Ladybug told it, then pulled the magnet off of Heart Thief’s boot and tossed it into the air, “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”
The magnet burst into thousands of ladybugs that flew around Paris. They fixed the banquet hall, the art room, and got rid of the daggers throws by Heart Thief. Black and purple mist engulfed Heart Thief then lifted to reveal Lucien. He gets up and furrows his brow, “What am I doing here?” Hearing someone clear their throat, he turned around and saw Marc and Nathaniel glaring at him with such malice, but Marc’s glare was more intense
Marc stormed over to him and rolled up one of his sleeves, “Em-Emerald, I-” He was cut off a powerful left hook right to his face that sent him to the floor, much to the shock of Nathaniel, Ladybug, and Chat “You had that coming a long time ago, Rebois!”
“WHOO!”, Madelyn cheered as she made her way over to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, “My boy can still throw a mean hook!”, Marc laughed and hugged her, “Hey, Maddy.”, “Hey my little gay of sunshine!”, she then noticed Nathaniel and smiled, “So I’m guessing he’s your new boyfriend?”
Marc pulled away from the hug and made his way over to Nathaniel. The two held hands, confirming Madelyn’s suspicion “Well, I already like him a lot better than Rebois.”, she gave the de-akumatized boy’s leg a kick
Ladybug and Chat Noir fist-bumped, “Pound it!”
--
“Ladybug and Chat Noir, like Heart Thief, I don’t care how long it takes until I finally have what’s mine! And as for Marc Anciel... I’ll still be keeping a close eye on you...”
--
It was a new day at school, no one’s seen Lucien for a week. His Akumatization a history at Vadim spread like a wildfire, now everyone knew exactly the kind of person he was. Kim, Alix, and the whole school fútbol team took down their (not literal) shrine to him. Rumors were spreading too- ‘Lucien got expelled’, ‘Lucien went back to Vadim’, ‘Lucien fled to Bombay’, ‘Lucien melted his head’, ‘Lucien’s totally dead’. Okay, so that last two were a little outlandish, but at least everything was back to normal
As Marc and Nathaniel were walking home after art club, Marc got a text from his phone, “It’s from Maddy.”, he smiled as he read the message, “The GSA social is coming up. She, Mehdi and Syd wanna know if we’re free to go on Saturday.”
Nathaniel smiled and kissed his cheek, “Tell them we’ll be there, and I can’t wait to meet everyone.”
Taglist:
@toodaloo-kangaroo
#miraculous ladybug#Akuma class#marc x nathaniel#rainbow tomato#Nathaniel calls Marc Rainbow#ao3fic#ao3 link#mireille caquet#fanfic#ml fanfic
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Will You Help Me, Marinette?
Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad
Halfway into her walk to work, Marinette’s phone chimed. An amused smile tugged at her lips. A new record. Usually, he’d text her first thing upon waking up. Had been for years. She was already starting to suspect something had happened.
Adrien: Help!
She rolled her eyes. If it were anyone else, she’d panic. But it was Adrien, an overgrown man-child to whose overly dramatic, exaggerated ways she was used to by now.
Marinette: I’m bringing you croissants. Don’t worry.
Adrien: U rock!
Adrien: But that’s not it. Can I ask you for a favour?
She stopped at the lights, looking around for cars and quickly ran across the street.
Marinette: Coffee? I’m about to walk by our café.
Adrien: Thanks, but not today. My photoshoot relocated at the last moment, so I won’t be in until much later in the day.
Adrien: I’ll still meet you at our cafe for lunch. Don’t order without me.
Marinette: :thumbs-up:
One end of her scarf got loose and seeing as Adrien was still typing, Marinette stole a moment to fix it, swaddling her neck away from the crispiness of cool air on the early April morning.
Adrien: Marinette, you’re my best friend and the luckiest girl I know, and you’re super smart and creative, so if anyone, you’d know what to do, and I really can use help now in something super important.
Adrien::puppy eyes: Please?
She didn’t bother suppressing a giggle, attracting a few glances from a morning crowd around her. Turning the corner, Marinette inhaled a warm aroma of fresh baked goods from a nearby café. She grew up and still lived in a bakery. She should've been used to this kind of thing. Yet this one was special. It was close to Gabriel’s office, and Adrien and she loved to frequent it during their lunches.
One of the servers waved at her, wishing her a good day. Marinette waved back, asking how their new kitten was adjusting. A brief exchange later, she walked on, a buzzing device in her hand reminding her of an unintentionally abandoned friend.
Adrien: T_T
Adrien: Are you ignoring me?
Adrien: Five minutes had passed. No answer. :sobbing:
Adrien: I thought we were friends? Friends help each other.
Adrien: …
Adrien: You do still like me, right?
She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Such a drama queen and an incorrigible dork. Though, no one would ever believe her if she’d say that out loud that because in the public eye a supermodel, part-time CEO of a fashion empire Adrien Agreste was perfect in every sense of this word. Only his closest friends knew better.
Marinette: I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. I was distracted by Pierre. How can I help you?
Adrien: :D You like me after all!
Marinette: I wouldn’t put up with your insufferable antics otherwise. Now, spill because I’m about to walk into the office and you’ll lose me five minutes after that.
Adrien: Okay.
Adrien: So…
Adrien: I’ve decided…
Adrien: To confess to the love of my life.
Marinette froze in her path, her heart sinking. Tightening her grip on her cellphone, she stared at the screen in shock. Adrien was in love with someone? Why didn’t she know about that? They’ve been friends for years, so how did she miss that the love of her life was in love with someone else? Her quickening-its-pace heart ached as Adrien continued to type.
Adrien: I tried to confess to her on my own many times but chickened out every single one of them because I’m terrified of ruining what we already have if she doesn’t feel the same for it’s amazing and wonderful and absolutely beautiful, but I’m also at a point where I NEED more. It’s getting too hard to be just a friend.
Adrien: So, I’m risking it and I need you to help me. As my oldest and best-est friend ever you must help me. Please, say you’ll help me?
A knife Adrien didn’t know he’d stuck into her heart twisted, ripping through tender flesh. Marinette bit on her tongue and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She needed a moment before she could reply, so walking into Gabriel’s building, she proceeded to the elevator and didn’t check her phone until she was safely in her office, settled in her chair.
Adrien: Marinette?
Adrien: I hope I didn’t ask for too much. You’re the only one I can trust with this.
Adrien: If you’d rather not, though, it’s fine. I’ll figure this out somehow.
Adrien: Are you upset with me? I’m sorry. I didn’t think this would be a big deal.
Adrien: … Please, say something.
Marinette read over the messages a few more times before dropping her head in her hands, propped on the table. This hurt. It ripped and crushed and devastated her, but as much as she’d love to run away and scream her pain out right now, Adrien was her friend first of all, and as his friend, she’d be supportive of him even if it hurt her.
Marinette: Sorry. I got distracted on my way. In my office now, so you have my full attention.
Adrien: T_T Don’t scare me like this. I already thought you hated me.
Marinette: Why would I hate you?
Adrien: Idk. Just a thought. So, you’re in?
Marinette: Are you sure you want me involved? Love confessions are kind of personal.
Adrien: Mari, please. I’m twenty-three. I don’t want to die an old maiden because I’m too chicken to confess to the most amazing, gorgeous girl around.
Marinette stared at the phone. She was also twenty-three, and ten of those years, she’d spent loving Adrien. All in vain, it seemed now. And yet, she couldn’t find it in herself to regret a single moment because Adrien had been brightening her days ever since their mothers became friends at a random book club meeting all those years back. She couldn’t desert him now, even if she wanted to.
Swearing under her breath, she cursed her inability to say No to him once again and typed.
Marinette: Alright. Let’s start with the name of the lucky lady.
Adrien: Can’t tell you.
Marinette: Seriously?
Adrien: Yes.
Marinette: How can I help you if I don’t know who she is?
Adrien: Keep me accountable. Bug me until I confess. Remind me every freaking minute that I can do it. Idk, threaten me or something. We’ve been friends for what? Almost fifteen years now? You know how I work and how to make me do things. That’s why I’m begging you and not Nino.
Marinette wished he’d asked Nino instead because helping Adrien confess to some girl was the least of Marinette’s desires.
Marinette: It’s going to be hard to suggest anything specific if I don’t know who she is, but fine. We’ll think of something. I get the front row seat at the wedding, though.
She wanted nothing less but Adrien couldn’t know that.
Adrien: Thank you! I’ll save you the best seat in the house… IF she accepts.
Marinette: Oh, please! You’ve got looks and money. Who would refuse you?
Adrien: See, that’s the issue: she knows me too well. She won’t be swayed by my looks or money. T_T Why do you think I’ve been stalling?
Marinette: Your dorkiness is finally catching up with you?
Adrien: Meanie.
Marinette: :P I’m sure everything will be fine. Now, is there anything you can tell me about her?
Adrien: She works at Gabriel.
Marinette tried to swallow the knot in her throat. Of course. Adrien must be in love with one of the models. He worked amongst the most beautiful girls in France every day, and who was Marinette? A junior designer in his father’s company? Not ugly or a failure per se but she was nothing to be proud of also. Marinette was just a girl whom he’d known her for most of his life and whose every fault he’d witness more than she’d like to admit. Nothing new and exciting to catch his attention. She was an idiot to ever dare to dream of him.
Yet, gritting her teeth together and pushing the thought aside, Marinette typed a response because he was her friend and he needed her help.
Marinette: You can ask her out to lunch for starters? Take her to our cafe. I’m sure she’d love it there.
Adrien: …
Adrien: But we always have our lunches together. I can’t betray you like that.
Marinette: I’ll be fine. I have a few designs I need to finish today, so I’ll eat at the work cafeteria.
Adrien: They don’t have your favourite.
Marinette: I can survive one lunch without an eclair. Or I can call Alya and meet up with her.
Adrien: Shoot. Gtg. Ttyl.
Marinette: Good luck.
Adrien: <3
Marinette put the phone away. dropping her head onto the table. They’ve been so close for years. How could she have missed that Adrien was in love with someone? Was she that blinded by her own feelings for him? If she wasn’t, maybe then she would’ve noticed and could’ve prepared herself and not feel this excruciating pain in her chest now.
Her phone chimed again. This time it was Alya, reminding her of their Friday night plans. Marinette briefly responded, not paying close attention to what she was saying, adding an invitation for lunch at the end. Not that she was eager to be in anybody’s company today, but it was better than sitting alone and obsessing over who Adrien’s lady-love was. She knew herself and right now she needed a distraction not to fall apart. So, pushing misery aside, Marinette pulled her work files and started on finalizing her sketches due by the end of the day.
Closer to noon, Adrien texted again. As he always did.
Adrien: Guess who’s all done and who’s so nervous about today, it showed in pictures and drove my photographer insane?
She bitterly chuckled. Classic Adrien.
Marinette: Nothing to be bragging about. I thought you were a professional?
Adrien: I am. That’s why I’m done already. All you have to do is to imagine spaghetti. :3
Marinette: Dork.
Adrien: Proudly so.
Adrien: Marinette, thank you. I REALLY appreciate you being with me on this one. Honestly, I just can’t do this alone, and I wanted to do this for so long now, I’m desperate. So, your help means a lot.
I don’t want to help you, Marinette grumbled to herself.
That’s what friends are for, right? she wrote instead.
Adrien: She’s just so amazing, it terrifies me to lose her, but I can’t imagine myself being with anyone else. We’re perfect for each other. I hope you’ll agree with me once you’ll see who I’m talking about.
Adrien: Okay, I’m downstairs. I’ll drop by after I see Father.
Marinette: Cool. See you soon.
She put her phone on the desk, pushing her designs away. Tears, successfully withheld by the distraction of work, surfaced at the corners of her eyes, as the reality of what was going on hit again. Adrien was in love with someone and that person wasn’t her despite Marinette’s most daring hopes because otherwise, Adrien wouldn’t be asking her for help.
Someone opened the door, walking in without an invitation. Marinette quickly wiped away the lingering moisture in her eyes. Adrien couldn’t see her crying or he’d know she was less than happy about this confession of his. She was heartbroken, but for his sake, she'd keep a brave face and smile until the end.
“Lila?”
“Didn’t except me?” The woman walked closer and settled in a chair opposite Marinette, a mug of coffee in her hand.
“Not really,” Marinette replied coldly. She hated Lila for lies and manipulations. Why M Agreste hired her as a model was beyond her. “What do you want?”
“I’ve come to warn you,” Lila said, ceremonially checking her nails.
Marinette quirked an eyebrow. “About what?”
Lila smirked, putting her mug down on a table. “Adrien and I are going public today, and we’d like you to stay out of it.”
Marinette inwardly growled. There was no way that could’ve been true! Yes, Lila was not so subtly trying to get Adrien’s attention for a while now, but as far as Marinette knew, Adrien was tolerating her antics only out of innate politeness and kindness of his heart, not affection.
“You’re lying,” she seethed. “Adrien had never mentioned—”
“That’s because he knew you don’t like me, and he wanted to spare your feelings since you’re his friend and all.” Lila shrugged. “But we’ve been secretly dating for a while now. Not anymore, though.” She smirked. “Adrien’s taking me out for lunch on our first official date today. But, to make it easier for everyone, I thought I’d warn you”—Lila’s face became stone-cold, her voice and glare matching—“stay out of my boyfriend’s life or you’ll regret it, Marinette.”
“What if I won’t?” Marinette barked without thinking twice. “He’s my friend. I have a right to—"
“You have absolutely no rights when it comes to my boyfriend.”
“I won’t believe it until I hear it from him personally.”
“You shall see it on the news tonight."
Lila’s sly smile promised nothing good as she stood up, picked up her coffee, and turned around to leave. Her hand swayed. Marinette’s blood ran cold because the mug in Lila’s hands tipped over, all of the coffee inside spilling all over Marinette’s desk, her sketches and her outfit. “Oops! Clumsy me.”
“You!” Marinette rushed to save what she could of her work.
“Stay away from Adrien or this will only be the start,” Lila whispered, leaning closer. “He’s mine.”
“Oh my gosh! What happened here? Marinette, are you alright?” Adrien suddenly appeared by her side.
“Adrien,” Lila cooed. “You’re just in time. We have to help Marinette. She spilled her coffee all over her hard work.” She picked up a few coffee-drenched papers, making a show out of trying to save them. “You’re such a klutz, girl. Let me help you before you do any more damage.”
Marinette glared at Lila, pressing her lips into a thin line.
“Marinette, are you okay?” Adrien took her by the shoulders and turned to face him.
“Of course, she isn’t,” Lila interfered. “Just look at her: the poor thing’s all soaked. And doesn’t she look pale to you? She might be getting sick. We should ask your father to give her a day off. Or better yet send someone to do that. We don’t want to be late for lunch. I'll go call someone.”
The moment Lila stepped out of the room, Marinette looked at Adrien and asked, “Are you really taking her out for lunch?”
Adrien pressed his lips together, looking away as he nodded.
Lost for words, lost for actions, lost for anything, all Marinette could do was to stare at the ground.
“It’s not—”
“Oh my gosh! Marinette, what happened?” Alya pushed Adrien to the side and took her friend by her shoulders. “You’re all soaked.”
“Found her wandering down the hall,” Lila looped her hand around Adrien’s arm. “She’s here to pick up Marinette for lunch which reminds me that we need to go now or we’ll be late for our reservation. The girls can take care of this mess by themselves, right Marinette?”
Marinette wanted nothing more than to slap Lila and take Adrien away. He deserved so much better! How could he fall for Lila? Didn’t he see what kind of a person Lila was? Didn’t he know how she felt about her? How could he ask her advice on this? Tears pooled in her eyes. Adrien was her best friend. She loved him, but this hurt too much. It felt too much as a betrayal, and if Adrien cared for her so little as to ask her for advice on how to woo her enemy, then Marinette didn’t want him to see how much that pained her.
“I’ll be fine with Alya.” Marinette turned away to gather her papers. “This is my mess; I’ll clean it up. You should go.”
“What’s going on here?” Gabriel Agreste himself appeared behind them.
“Marinette spilled coffee all over herself and her work,” Lila rushed to explain.
“Father, I think—”
“You should clean up and take a day off,” Gabriel interceded. “I’ll give you an extension on those. Now, Adrien. Why are you still here? Don’t you have lunch to go to?”
Adrien glanced at Marinette, then to his father. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, I do.”
"Then off you go. Mlle Dupain-Cheng would be fine without you.”
“Right.” Adrien reached forward to lightly touch Marinette’s elbow. “I’ll call you later,” he mouthed and walked out the room with Lila Rossi on his arm.
Adrien didn’t contact her until the very evening when exhausted from the day, Marinette put the work she took home away and went for a stroll.
Adrien: Hey. Sorry, I had a few things to settle. How are you?
She closed her eyes for a moment, before looking back at the Seine. The gentle lure of waves calmed. It mesmerized and relaxed. Marinette always came here when she was stressed, or tired, or needed a pick me up. She couldn’t explain it, but there was something soothing and healing about gazing at the passing-by waters of the Seine. Her own safe haven, a little oasis in the desert of stress and chaos. Today, Marinette needed it more than ever.
Adrien: Marinette? Is everything okay?
No. Nothing was okay, and she’d rather not talk to him now, but… years of friendship and her treacherous heart demanded otherwise. He hurt her, but it was also him, who she wanted to comfort her right now. Pathetic, she knew that, but better texts than face to face.
Marinette: Everything’s fine. Taking a walk.
Adrien: Where are you off to?
Marinette: [image 1509]
Adrien: Pont des Arts?
Marinette: You know your Paris well.
Adrien took five minutes to reply, but when he did, he did so in person. “I know you well. You always come here when you need to calm down or to think things over.”
Marinette whipped around. Adrien was standing just a few meters away. Trying to catch his breath, he ran his hands through his dishevelled hair to fix it back in somewhat decent shape.
“Adrien? What are you doing here?”
“I need to ask you something.” He walked closer, stopping only when Marinette was pressed flash against the bridge, his hands on either of her sides, his face inches from hers. "Why didn't you expose her?”
Marinette blinked. “What?”
“You didn’t spill that coffee. Lila did. And don’t even try to deny it. You never bring drinks in your office unless it’s in an air-tight container because you think you’re too clumsy.”
Marinette shifted her eyes to the side. “I am clumsy.”
“Just a tiny, adorable amount. Nothing serious.” He cocked his head to the side. “So? Why did you let her get away with it?”
Marinette looked away. She hated Lila and Adrien knew that. What did he expect her to say? Why did he even come here? He should go back to that liar girlfriend of his.
“It’s so unlike you. I want to know what’s going on.”
She didn't know what to answer him, so she remained silent.
“Marinette, please? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“Then look me in the eyes and repeat that.”
She tried and failed. Adrien sighed and pulled her into his arms, whispering into her ear. “Marinette, please. Why did you allow her to walk all over you? You never did that before. What’s happened? You know I won’t leave you alone until you tell me.”
She closed her eyes. The gentle tone of his voice, the comforting wrap of his arms around her, his body’s warmth so close to hers… It stirred those damn butterflies at the pit of her belly, ripping through her heart at the same time… because he’d betrayed her. He’d fallen in love with the only girl whose guts Marinette hated more than anything and there was nothing either of them could do because who could control their heart? Adrien couldn’t help loving who he did… which, however, didn’t mean he could be so inconsiderate of her. He knew she hated Lila!
“Marinette?”
She pushed him away. It hurt to remain in his embrace any longer.
“Mari…”
“Leave me alone. Go to your girlfriend.”
His eyes widened as he stared at her in shock. “My girlfriend?”
“Lila.”
“Lila?!”
“Yes, Lila,” Marinette huffed, turning her back to him, her face to the Seine. “Can’t believe you had the audacity to ask me of all people for advice on that. You know how I feel about her!”
Her eyes focused on the rolling waves as Marinette waited for an answer that didn’t come for a few moments and not until Adrien walked to stand beside her, searching her face with his eyes.
“Just to make sure I understood you correctly: you think I’m in love with Lila?”
“Aren’t you? You took her to lunch just as you said you would.”
Adrien laughed, leaning on his arms to rest on the bridge. “Marinette, you know me better than that. I took Lila to lunch only because my father blackmailed me to do so.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “A likely story.”
“No, really. He said Lila dug some dirt on him and her price for silence was me. And Father, knowing you’re my friend, threatened to fire you if I won’t comply.”
Marinette looked at him, her eyebrows knitted into a frown. “What?”
“Don’t worry, your job is safe, and I made it clear to both of them that I’m not taking part in any of their bullshit. If Father wants her silence, he’d better pay for it some other way.” Gently, Adrien cupped her shoulder, turning Marinette to face him. “Seeing what she did to you… it made me angry. I wanted nothing more than to protect you at that moment, and the best way to do that was to deal with the cause once and for all. So, I trusted Alya to take care of you, and I went with Lila only to ensure she won’t be troubling you again. And after that, I visited Father and we had a long talk about the situation. He won’t be bothering either of us again as well.”
Marinette stared at him for a few seconds before muttering without thinking. “What did you do?”
“Nothing significant. I explained to Father how serious I was about quitting Gabriel the moment you’re fired and we both know he can’t afford me walking out. Not with me owning half of the company in my mother's shares. Lila, though, was harder to get through. She kept dismissing me until I pretty much avenged you. Then she got the message loud and clear.”
As in a haze, she echoed, “What did you do?”
Adrien grinned. “I might have placed my plate of spaghetti in a strategic place for it to be accidentally tipped over and end up all over Lila.”
Marinette gasped. “What?!”
His grin widened. “I only placed it in the spot. She did all the job herself, and”—he leaned closer—“there might have been a reporter close by and he might have taken pictures if you are interested.”
“What? How?”
Adrien chuckled. “Lila hired someone to ‘witness’ and report on our ‘first date’. The guy reached out to me later to see if I wanted to buy the embarrassing pictures of ‘my girlfriend’ from him. I wasn’t interested, but I saved his card in case you are.”
Marinette stared at him for a moment, then erupted with laughter. “You’re horrible.”
“She deserved so much more after what she did to you.”
“Still, spaghetti?”
“Just using her own methods against her, and only because she wouldn’t listen to me when I was nice.”
Marinette chuckled. “Dork.”
“And you like me that way, don’t you?”
“I do,” she smiled, relaxing against the railing. She looked up at the stars and breathed in. So many worries for nothing. She should've trusted Adrien more.
“Marinette?”
She hummed, turning to him.
He looked hesitant, moving closer. “Were you jealous?”
Marinette squeaked, her face flaring crimson, as she shook her head. “No! Why would I be jealous? I—”
“You looked like you were jealous.”
“No, I wasn’t!” Her face burned hotter with every moment.
Adrien chuckled before turning serious and reaching out to cup her face in his hands. His touch, gentle and warm, sent electrical current down Marinette’s body. He slowly started to lean in. Her eyes widened with realization, fluttering close the moment his lips hesitantly brushed against hers.
“The girl I’m in love with is you, Marinette,” Adrien whispered, searching her face for a reaction. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’m the fool who couldn’t find the courage to confess to you for years without asking you to keep me accountable because I’m terrified my feelings will ruin our friendship, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I love you, Marinette.”
Dumbfounded, Marinette stared back at him wide-eyed. “Me? You love me?”
His lips tugged in a hopeful smile as he nodded. "Will you give me a chance? I promise I’ll make you happy if you’ll let me be more than just a friend.”
Marinette forgot how to breathe. “Adrien—I… I don’t understand. You said—I thought—”
She froze, seeing his face saddened, and shook her head. No! What was she doing? She’d dreamed of this moment for years and now that it was finally here, why was she stalling?
He slowly pulled his hands away.
She couldn’t let him misunderstand her even if her reaction was puzzling to her herself, so she grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him down, crushing her lips against his.
Adrien stilled. Then wrapped his arms around her and angled his head to deepen the kiss. She let him press forward, pushing her against the railing of the bridge as their lips moved heatedly in tandem, years of pinned-up love and desire spilling out. It was only when the air became a necessity, she pulled away breathless and smiled at him.
“I love you too, Adrien. Have been for years.”
His face lit up.
“And just like you, I was too scared to confess. Looks like we’re both hopeless idiots.”
Adrien pulled her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he pressed a lingering kiss to a patch of exposed skin he found there.
“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he whispered.
“You could’ve if you’d asked,” Marinette replied, running her fingers through his hair.
He leaned into her touch, almost purring from the pleasure. “Can I now?”
“Yes.”
He growled lowly, tightening his hold on her. “Mine.”
She giggled, wrapping her hands around his neck. “Possessive much?”
“Very.” He grinned. “Marinette?” Without letting her go, Adrien pulled a key with a ladybug keychain on it out from his pocket. “Will you also consider moving in with me?”
“What?” Marinette blinked. “Right away?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like we need time to get to know each other better. We grew up together. We know what makes us tick and what we like. Why wait?”
Marinette smiled. Adrien was right. They did know each other well. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t dreamed of sharing her days, her nights, her happy and sad moments, her dreams and fears, her life, her everything with him for years. Why wait indeed? “I’d love to move in with you.”
Adrien grinned harder and pulled her in for another kiss. Slow and sweet, filled with longing, and need, and desire.
“In that case,” he added, his voice raspy as he drew away and, pulling a small box out of his pocket, dropped on one knee. “Will you also consider marrying me?”
Marinette gasped as Adrien revealed a gorgeous ring inside.
“Adrien, you’re insane. What are you doing?”
“I thought I’ll ask everything in one go,” he admitted. “It took me years to confess, and I don’t want to wait that long for the next step. So why not? We can have a long engagement if you want, or you can say No now and I’ll ask again la—”
“No, you really are insane,” Marinette kneeled beside him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him slowly. “How can I say No to you?”
He grinned. “Is that a Yes then?”
“That’s a Yes.”
He held her gaze for a few moments, giving her that goofy, happy smile of his before shaking off his stupor and sliding the ring on her finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life.”
“Me too.”
“I already looked up hamsters in my local pet store. They’re keeping a few for us to choose from until next week,” Adrien murmured. “You did want a hamster, right? Three kids and a hamster. We'll start with the hamster and add kids later—"
Marinette laughed and grabbed him by his coat’s collar again, pulling him closer.
“As much as I’d love to talk kids and hamsters with you,” she whispered. “Right now, I need you to kiss me senseless. Leave the rest for later.”
A lovesick smile tugged at his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Marinette echoed, weaving her arms around his neck, losing herself to the caresses of the man she loved more than anything.
#miraculous ladybug#adrienette#adrinette#mlb#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#fluff#dorks#miscommunications#but quickly solved#engagement#short#shortstory
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
Neon Lights I (Modern!Ivar/Reader)
A/N: Hello!💕 I hope you’re all okay and safe. I’m sorry I didn’t post anything these days, I'm just a bit nervous and maybe worried about the situation and it’s hard to concentrate on writing... Besides, I'm now working from home and it’s even more exhausting than going out to go to the office😅 But it’s okay, we’ll be fine💜 meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this. It’s maybe a bit boring, it’s like an introduction chapter, but I hope it entertains you a bit😘 Thank you for reading and take care!
Btw, before reading this, I recommend you read the author’s note on the prologue (if you haven’t yet), the link is below!💞
Warnings: mentions of sex, sexism, alcohol and nakedness.
Words: 3002
Prologue
gif belongs to @lol-haha-joke
Ivar was uncomfortable.
Maybe he shouldn't have drank that much that night and he would have ended up there. If he had kept his mouth shut and stopped bragging about his status...
At first, he thought that the men that bargained into his hotel room were Björn's men. He was nearly ready to die, what was left for him anyway? He was all alone, his brothers and his own wife betrayed him. But then he realized Björn hadn't sent anyone to look for him so far from home, he probably thought he was dead already.
Always underestimating him.
They killed the few men Ivar had left, but spared his life. Apparently someone had heard about him and wanted to meet him. Ivar expected to find someone trying to impress him, maybe a young boy anxious to prove how powerful he was.
He didn't expect to find Oleg. An actually powerful man that knew who he was. Ivar thought he'd kill him when he found out he had no power now, that his brothers took everything from him and now he was only running away. But he didn't.
Instead he offered his help, to help him take his home back, to get revenge from his family.
Of course, Ivar said yes.
The club looked like a normal nightclub. It was clean, the security guards were professional and serious. If he hadn't seen the platform with the poles and the girls dancing, he would have thought it was a bar.
He didn't pay attention to the girls dancing. He had no interest on looking at girls dancing half naked on a pole, and he found it awkward and uncomfortable. He couldn't look at any woman since...
Oleg laughed and drank next to him. He didn't pay attention to the girls either, he was used to it. He chatted with some of the men sitting around him, and sometimes with Ivar.
Ivar felt a bit out of place. He was completely alone, forced to trust Oleg when he felt like he couldn't even trust his own family. He stayed quiet, watching everyone carefully while sipping on his beer.
Until he saw you.
He blinked a couple of times, mesmerized by your movements and your beauty. You were already watching him, your eyes widened and your lovely lips slightly parted. He wondered why you looked at him like that. It wasn't the look he had seen other girls giving to the clients, trying to seduce them so they would increase their tips, this look was innocent, you seemed to be stunned to see him there. Why would you look at him like that if he hadn't shown any interest on any of the girls?
He leaned into Oleg then, touching his arm softly to catch his attention.
"Who is she?"
Oleg's eyes fixed on you, and he smirked, shaking his head.
"She is Y/N" he muttered "She's one of my favorite girls, isn't she amazing?" he chuckled.
"Y/N?" Ivar muttered your name. It sounded different with Oleg's accent.
"Do you like her?" his host seemed amused.
Ivar frowned.
"No, I was just... Intrigued"
"Y/N is definitely intriguing" Oleg nodded "You can have some private time with her... No touching, though, but you wouldn't regret it, she is very requested by our most important clients"
Ivar shook his head. Even if your dancing was hypnotizing and he would love to see it in private, he didn't want to meet you in that way.
It scared him, because he hadn't felt that since Freydis.
__________________________________
Oleg gave you the day off. It allowed you to relax at the small apartment you had upstairs the club. Read some books, have a relaxing shower and sleep, resting after four nights in a row. Until Olivia came to your room at eleven, with a beautiful red dress and a pair of black heels, interrupting your plans of drifting off to sleep while watching a very bad movie on TV.
"Oleg asked for you" she smiled softly at you as you pouted "He gave me this dress, and I added the heels. I know you hate those black heels you have, these are more comfortable" she put everything on your bed, and you stared at it.
"I thought I had the night free" you sighed "He told me"
"Yes" Olivia sighed. She was Russian, like Oleg, with blonde hair, blue eyes and pale skin, and she was his most trusted girl. She was the one who taught you to survive in that place, helping you to learn how to dance, how to behave and how to be quiet to avoid getting in trouble. She had a soft spot for you, which made Oleg develop another soft spot for you. You were alive thanks to Olivia "But he only wants you downstairs, next to him. He probably wants to make business with someone, and he needs one of us to distract him... Men don't think straight when they have a beautiful woman in front of them" she chuckled.
"Unless they don't like women" you shrugged "Anyway, I'm going to do my makeup, can you please help me with my hair?"
She nodded and you got out of bed. The small apartment Oleg gave to you had only a room with your bed, a TV and a table and a small kitchen and the end of the room. The bathroom was even smaller; a shower, a toilet and a sink with a dirty mirror, and you and Olivia could barely stand in front of it as she combed your hair softly and you put on some concealer and foundation.
"He has a new guest" she said casually "A Danish man, I can't remember his name, but he's hot"
You nearly dropped the concealer.
"I... Have you seen him?"
"Yes, he was with Oleg last night, I sat down with him and his guests after you went to the private rooms with that man, he's handsome, Y/N, you should have seen his eyes, God" she bit her lip "He's injured, I think, he had to walk with a crutch... He didn't speak much, he seemed a bit bored" she shrugged.
You hummed, even if your hands trembled a bit. You couldn't stop thinking about that man you saw the night before, his eyes, his face... How he had looked at you.
He had to be Oleg's new guest.
The dress fit perfectly. It was expensive, probably from a famous brand you couldn't even think about. Oleg had that habit of buying his girls -and some of his boys- expensive clothes and makeup, making you feel like a princess so he could show you off, as if you were a painting ready to be sold off by a famous artist. He gave you a place to live and food to eat, you only had to let him show you off and seduce some of his clients.
"You look beautiful as always" Olivia smiled as she looked at you "Oleg will be happy, now go downstairs before he gets inpatient... I'll go too, later" she promised before kissing your cheek lovingly. You nodded and left the room behind her, closing the door.
The hallway was full of doors, that lead into apartments like yours. Oleg preferred to have all of his workers in there, safe and under his own roof. There was a guard next to the stairs, who smiled at you when you walked next to him. At the end of the stairs, there was a door, guarded by other two men. And then there was the club.
Some of the girls danced as a group of men howled with eyes full of lust. You pressed your lips in disgust, but ignored them as you approached the guard in front of the entrance to Oleg's VIP room. The one he used when he had important people over, that had a private bar and access to all the dancing rooms.
He lifted the rope. You thanked him with a polite smile, trying to hide how nervous you were. And Oleg came immediately, with a big smile on his lips.
"Y/N" he cupped your cheeks "You look absolutely beautiful" his eyes fixed on yours and you tried to smile back "I knew this was your color"
"Thank you, Oleg" you nodded respectfully.
"Come, I want you to meet someone" his hand grabbed your waist, and you walked next to him to the couches at the end of the room.
There was a huge group of people there, everyone was already drunk, smoking and laughing loudly. You knew some of them, and they eyed you up and down when you walked past them. It was disgusting, like a steak placed in front of a hungry dog. But Oleg was there, and they wouldn't dare to try and touch you.
Not in front of him, at least.
You were so distracted by everyone in the room that you didn't realize he was in there too. Oleg made you stop next to a beautiful velvet couch, and when he raised his head and looked at you, you froze.
He was even more beautiful than you remembered. His eyes were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you bit your lip nervously.
"Ivar" Oleg smirked "Let me introduce you to Y/N, one of my most precious girls" he chuckled "Y/N, my dear, this is Ivar, he comes from Denmark, I remember you told me you'd love to visit Scandinavia"
You cleared your throat, nodding with a polite smile. You had to treat him like you treated all of Oleg's guests.
"It's really nice to meet you, Ivar" you liked how his name sounded on your lips.
Ivar was looking at you with widened eyes and parted lips, and blinked a couple of times before nodding, smiling in a way that made your knees weak.
"It's nice to meet you too, Y/N" oh, but your name sounded even better on his lips "Forgive me for not standing to greet you properly" he patted his leg, and you saw the crutch leaned into the arm of the couch next to him.
Oleg pushed you softly to the couch, making you sit down next to Ivar.
"Do you want a drink, my dear?" he caressed your cheek with a smirk on his lips.
Your mouth was dry, but you didn't want to drink any alcohol, so you just shook your head. He nodded.
"I have to go now, I have business to attend" he smiled again, that smile that gave you chills "I hope Y/N can entertain you while I'm busy, Ivar"
You didn't reply, but Ivar shot him a smile with his lips closed as he walked away. The smirk never left his lips.
You were nervous. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you looked everywhere but to Ivar. He seemed to be uncomfortable too, with his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on his lap.
"You can leave if you want to" he said softly, startling you. You frowned a bit and finally looked at him, tilting your head "I don't want you to feel like you're obliged to sit next to me and... How did he call it? Entertain me"
"It's fine" you smiled "I prefer to entertain you than to entertain his other guests" you raised an eyebrow.
He hummed, smiling back at you.
"And why is that?" He asked. His voice was addicting, your new favorite sound.
"They often want another form of entertainment" you giggled "One I'm afraid I don't offer"
"Oh" he raised an eyebrow "I see"
Oleg's guest usually looked disappointed when you made clear you wouldn't fuck them. He didn't even look surprised.
"What brought you to Kiev, Ivar?"
He sighed, taking a sip of his drink. He was drinking vodka, but he didn't even flinch.
"I was running away" he muttered "Oleg heard about me and thought I'd be useful"
"Oleg finds everyone useful" you smiled "In one way or another"
"I find him useful too" his blue eyes fixed on yours and you held his gaze "What brought you to Kiev?"
"Long story" you chuckled "Similar to yours"
He nodded, taking another sip.
"Oleg said you'd love to visit Scandinavia"
"Yes" you sighed "Is it as beautiful as everyone says?"
"I suppose so" he frowned a bit "I grew up there, for me it's just... Home"
It must be nice to have a home, you thought.
"I always wanted to see the fjords" you muttered "And the northern lights"
"I think Norway would be the best place for you" he hummed softly "In Denmark you can see some northern lights, maybe from the Faroe Islands, but our fjords aren't as impressive as the ones in Norway, I'm afraid"
"But Denmark has beautiful places too" you smiled softly "I don't know, I wish I could travel to all of them"
"Then why don't you?" He frowned a bit "Oleg seems to adore you, I'm sure he'd let you go for a couple of days"
You smiled at him, shaking your head.
"I'm afraid I'm stuck here, Ivar" you sighed "For a long time"
He couldn't possibly understand that, and you didn't expect him to. Men often thought you were there because you liked to dance half naked to get them horny. Some of them even believed that was your dream job. They thought they were doing you a favor, flattering you, when they said how beautiful you were, all the things they wanted to do to you.
When, honestly, you just wanted to be in your bed.
Ivar opened his mouth, but then closed it again, shaking his head and blushing. You giggled, he was cute.
"Are you nervous, Ivar?" you tilted your head with a smile on your lips. Your eyes looked right into his and Ivar smiled softly.
"Any man would be nervous around a woman like you"
"I don't think you are like any man"
"I never said I was"
You bit your lip and your smile widened.
"You definitely aren't"
_______________________________________
You still had that stupid smile on your lips when you entered your small bathroom to take your makeup off. You stared at yourself in the mirror, you didn't remember when was the last time you smiled like that.
Oleg had interrupted the two of you, just when Ivar was telling you about the colorful buildings in Copenhagen. He needed you, to show you off in front of his more powerful guests. The way he spoke to Ivar sounded like he thought he was being too generous with him for letting him talk to you.
You spent the rest of the night being Oleg's little pet, like always. He caressed your cheek and your waist as he laughed at the bad jokes his guests made, and smirked every time he caught them staring at your legs or your chest. Ivar sat down with all of you, but his eyes never left your face.
He was the only one that wished you good night, with a soft smile on his lips as you excused yourself. Olivia didn't come down, and you had knocked on her door before going to your bedroom, but she was already asleep. You just hoped Oleg wasn't bothered by her absence.
When you were already changed into your pajamas, after hanging the dress on the wardrobe and cleaning a bit the heels to gave them back the next day, someone knocked on your door.
Sighing you opened the door, knowing who you'd find at the other side.
"My beautiful Y/N" Oleg smiled softly at the sight of you "Did I wake you up?"
"No, sir, I was still awake" you muttered, curving your lips in a shy smile.
"Oh, nice" he entered your room, looking around briefly before sitting on your unmade bed "I needed to talk to you, but I couldn't do it earlier with so many people around"
You nodded, closing the door before sitting on the bed next to him.
"Yes?"
"What do you think about Ivar?" He seemed genuinely interested, which surprised you. Usually, he couldn't care less about what you thought of his guests, and that could only mean that Ivar was special.
"I like him" you tried your best to avoid blushing when talking about him "He's... Different"
"Yes he is" Oleg raised an eyebrow "He seemed captivated by you too, and that's a good thing, Y/N, because he's a very important man"
You frowned. You didn't like his tone.
"But what does that have to do with me?"
"Ivar is the heir of a really important business in Scandinavia, Y/N, I would say he's the most important man in Northern Europe, even if he has nothing now, he's everything"
"I still don't understand..."
"I want you to keep him happy, Y/N" he interrupted you, pushing your hair behind your ear "We need him to trust us, so be nice to him, be the good little girl I know you are and make Ivar the happiest man in the world... Of course, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, I'm sure he'd understand..." He chuckled, but it wasn't funny to you.
"Okay" you cleared your throat "I... I understand"
"I knew I could count on you" Oleg kissed your forehead "That's why you're one of my favorites, Y/N"
You forced a smile, nodding.
"By the way, my brother Askold will come in a couple of days" he sighed as he stood up "Igor will come with him"
This time, your smile was genuine. You loved Igor with all your heart, but couldn't see him as often as you'd like.
"I knew you'd be happy to hear that" he smirked "Now, go to sleep little one, you must rest for tomorrow"
"Okay" you nodded as he opened the door "Good night, Oleg"
"Good night beautiful" he winked at you "See you tomorrow"
_____________________________________________________
Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @trashcanx @winchesterwife27 @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @eteramfools @tgrrose @flokidottirsstuff @lovessce @tootie-fruity @heavenly1927 @wonderlandofsu @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx
I hope I didn’t forget anyone💜 Thank you for reading!😘
#ivar imagine#ivar the boneless#ivar x reader#ivar smut#vikings#vikings imagine#modern ivar#modern vikings#neon lights
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
Start of Consumption
Summary: She shouldn’t expect anything from this bright-faced girl with soft pink cheeks.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: The title is similar to the last jshk fic I wrote, whoops. They’re not related at all unless you want them to be. But, yeah, I just wanted more AoiNene. Thus, AoiNene. It’s pine-y, but it’s not as angsty as last time. It’s more bittersweet.
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
When Yashiro joined the club, she knew better than to expect anything different. Another person to smile and keep their distance, another gaze that shifts from admiration to apprehension. The only significance was that—
“Please!” Yashiro exclaimed, practically flinging her body into a bow. “T-Take good care of me, Akane-san!”
Even with zero expectations, there was no denying that Yashiro Nene was cute. Bright-faced and alit with excitement and enthusiasm—clearly naïve. Simple-minded, but unquestionably sweet. As Aoi’s stare ran down the newest recruit, she noticed Yashiro’s knees buck towards each other. Yashiro was avoiding her gaze now, her expression transparently pained and embarrassed. Anxious because Aoi had clearly gotten an eyeful of her thicker than average legs.
There wasn’t any reason to expect anything. Yashiro was someone who wore her heart on her sleeve.
When she takes Yashiro’s hands in her own, it’s with a squeeze that’s only a notch tighter than it should be.
“Let’s do our best to get along, Yashiro-san,” she chirps, the usual gaudy sentiment flowing off her tongue like water at this point. “Don’t hesitate to turn to me if you ever need help, okay?”
“O-Okay...”
She doesn’t expect anything. Obviously not, even from a sweet, bright-faced girl with soft pink cheeks.
--
Somehow, she’s still disappointed to learn the reason why Yashiro joined the gardening club.
“T-There’s this boy,” she’s stammering, all flustered and adorable if not for the insipid words that drop from her lips like gunk from pipes. “He’s really cool and handsome... But the kind of girl he likes is, well...”
“You’ve liked him for a long time?” Aoi asks cheerfully, as if she doesn’t already know more than just the shallow answer. As if it isn’t annoying how Yashiro frantically nods and gets even squirmier as she thinks about her feelings. “You should just talk to him, then, Yashiro-san.”
“N-No way!” she exclaimed. “Not until I’m the kind of girl he likes!”
His kind of girl is even shallower than your crush on him, Yashiro.
“Best of luck, Yashiro-san!” she instead chirps, pumping her fists. “I’m here to support you!”
“T-Thank you, Akane-san,” Yashiro blubbers and then sniffles. “Y-You’re so nice...”
With how pitiful you are, how can I not be? That and...
Yashiro has been sweet and bright-faced for the past week. Yashiro has also been more focused on tilling the garden than she has been shooting Aoi looks when she thinks Aoi won’t notice. Yashiro really is fixated on this guy, and...
He’s not even a great person. Akane hates him, as he does every guy, but even without that, Aoi knows he’s terrible. He’s a playboy who is fickle and easily bored, and he’s made a good number of girls cry. It won’t be long before Yashiro’s tears of gratitude towards Aoi become tears of shame and despair at the whole situation.
“U-Um, what about you, Akane-san?”
For now, Yashiro is looking at her with sparkling eyes.
“Is there a guy you like?” she asks, and when Aoi doesn’t immediately answer, she lets out a gasp. “Oh! Right! There’s Aoi...kun? Uh. T-That guy with the glasses, I mean.”
“We’re just childhood friends,” Aoi said, all too used to this exchange. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, you don’t like him? He’s so devoted to you, though.”
Who is he devoted to? She wonders bitterly. Certainly not me.
“It’s romantic,” Yashiro went on. “When someone is so taken by you that they’re just consumed. Like nothing else matters...”
Are you just saying that because you’re the same way? And with some guy who is awful? Just like Akane-kun, then. You two would make a good pair. Such a wonderful pair. So taken with each other that no one else even needs to exist.
“You and Akane-kun would be a good match,” she said. Yashiro gets so adorably flustered, denies it, and the day goes on.
Aoi does not attend school for the rest of the week.
(“I-I’m sorry! I’m not ever going to go near Aoi-kun!” Yashiro exclaims to her while sobbing. “Please don’t ever disappear like that again, Akane-san!”
Aoi laughs it off easily, and says just as easily that she was just sick.)
--
“But, it’s weird to hear you call him Aoi-kun. How about you just use Aoi for me?”
“A-Aoi? Ah, okay. Okay, okay, Aoi.”
“Just like that, Nene-chan.”
--
Yashiro Nene has been clingy with her lately. Likely worried that Aoi will disappear again if she’s not. God, she really is a lot like Akane. Except Yashiro Nene only ever says that she’s nice. Nice and—
“A good friend! We’re like, best friends!” She’s even bragging about it to one of the other girls. “Aoi’s really, really sweet when you get to know her!”
“Ehhh, really?” one of the other faceless nobodies laughs. “Akane-san always seems so unapproachable. Well. She is the most beautiful girl in the school. Not to mention the guys she has trailing after her...”
Aoi cringes because no one’s noticed her hiding from the corner. She cringes severely.
“She’s really nice!” Yashiro insists. “And Akane-kun is her childhood friend!”
“Aren’t you worried about your crush liking her, too, Yashiro-san?”
Yashiro does stiffen and—ah. There it is. It’s a good thing it’s happened now and not later. She was getting tired of Yashiro trailing after her so desperately. She really was.
“Nene-chan,” she murmurs to herself, just to feel the syllables on her tongue and no other reason. It’s just because it’s a cute name. A nice name. One she isn’t going to say again, because Yashiro’s not going to like her anymore. “Nene-chan, Nene-chan...”
“I-If it’s Aoi, it’s okay,” Yashiro says, so quietly that Aoi almost doesn’t hear it at first. “Aoi is...really, really nice. Who wouldn’t like her?”
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” the other girl says. “Akane-san rejects everyone. Cheer up, Yashiro-san, we’re just teasing.”
“T-That’s mean,” Yashiro whimpers. “Are you this mean to Aoi, too?!”
Aoi blinks.
“A-Ah, what? H-Haha, Yashiro-san, you don’t need to get so...”
“If you’re mean to Aoi, that’s wrong!” Yashiro is shouting now. “Aoi’s a sweet girl! Just because guys like her doesn’t mean that girls shouldn’t! She’s really, really nice!”
“C-Calm down, Yashiro-san...!”
“She’s the nicest!! I won’t have you bully her!”
“Please, calm down!!”
Calm down, Aoi thinks to herself, thinks especially to her now racing heart. Calm down, calm down. Nene-chan is just passionate. Overzealous. You knew this when you heard about all the things she did just to be that guy’s ideal type. She’s just—
“I won’t let anyone bully my best friend...!”
She’s—
--
“Nene-chan. Nene-chan...”
“Aoi!” Nene greats her so brightly, so adorably. “Look, look! The tomatoes are sprouting!”
“You’ve taken such great care of them!” she gushes, and she still can’t stop her heart from pounding. Just looking at Nene grin with such pride makes her almost disgustingly giddy. “How about I treat you for doing such great work? How does ice cream sound?”
“I’m almost done watering everything,” Nene rambles on. “I need to buy groceries, too. I have dinner to cook and I want to try a new recipe...”
It’s for that guy’s sake. She’s learning to garden and cook for that guy. What else is there to expect?
“Do you mind if I join you for that?”
You shouldn’t expect anything at all. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t...
“A-Ah, I’m not that good at cooking yet...” Nene’s so flustered. So adorably flustered. “But, if you want to, Aoi... I don’t mind... Would you have any advice?”
“A pinch, maybe.” It should be easy to smile as per usual, but Aoi has to struggle in fighting off a grimace this time. “Since it’s for your crush, you should just think of me like...mmm, a husband, maybe?”
“Y-You’re too pretty to be a husband, Aoi,” Nene points out, but she laughs. She laughs so easily. “But, okay. I’ll try my best!”
“I’m here to support you, Nene-chan.” It’s a mantra she needs to repeat. Over and over.
She shouldn’t expect anything.
Haah.
She shouldn’t expect anything from this bright-faced girl with soft pink cheeks.
I want to kiss her.
12 notes
·
View notes