#this trick saved my hide in grade school

[cheeseoneveryfudgingthing]

This trick only works up to 10x9, but you use your fingers.

Basically hold both your hands in front of you (doesn’t matter if it’s palm side up or down). Now, starting from left to right, assign each finger with a number from 1 to 10 (in order).

When you want to multiply a number by 9, take the finger with the corresponding number you want to multiply 9 by and lower just that finger (for example, if you want to multiply 9 by 3, lower only the middle finger on the left hand).

Doing this, you will get a certain number of fingers to the left of the lowered finger, and a certain number of fingers to the right of the lowered finger. The fingers to the left represent the ten’s places and the fingers to the right represent the ones. So as an example, for 2x9, you would lower the second finger from the left and end up with one finger to the left and 8 fingers to the right. Put the 1 in the tens place and the 8 in the ones place and you get 18!

This works for every multiplication from 1 to 10.

In the case of 1 and 10, there are zero fingers to the left of right respectively, so you add a zero in front or behind the nine other fingers respectively.

Hopefully this helps someone!

[raineandsky]

hi! i was wondering if you'd be willing to write a piece where a hero, who is the older brother of the villain and considered "the golden son," and the villain, who had left home once they were of age, haven't talked for months after a big argument. Then one day, Villain is fighting his brother when his brother has a panic attack. Villain tries to leave, thinking it's a trick (cause his perfect older brother could never be hurt, right?) and goes to hide. but then their parents appear and Villain realizes perhaps Hero wasn't as admired by their parents as Villain would have liked to believe. In fact, it almost seemed like they disliked Hero all together. they're being mean and kind of calling him pathetic, and hero keeps getting more and more anxious until finally the Villain realizes something is wrong and tries to help

god this turned out WAY longer than i intended - i hope you like long stories anon!! and ofc thank you for the request :)

-

tw abuse

“What are you doing?”

The villain thought they were fighting, but now the hero wants to sit on the floor and pant like a dog and clutch at his chest. He thinks it’s a fair question to ask.

“I don’t want to fight you, [Villain],” the hero manages through short breaths. “Please.”

The villain doesn’t see him much anyway. He’s not sure why one fight would take it out of him. He simply rolls his eyes, blatantly unconvinced. “If we weren’t on opposite sides I would maybe consider it.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this.” The words rush out before the hero has to heave another shallow breath. “We don’t have to hate each other.”

He glances up to the villain and– oh god, is he crying? What kind of game does he think he’s playing? The villain scowls wholeheartedly.

“Funny,” he says flatly. “Look, if we’re not going to battle it out I’ll be on my way.”

“No, [Villain].” The hero practically chokes on his name. What a show he’s putting on. “[Villain], please, don’t leave me—”

But the villain’s already turned on his heel to make one of his famous escapes. It’s not quite as extravagant as it usually is, considering he’s walking away rather casually and not pursued in the slightest, but he’s getting the hell out of dodge and that’s all that matters.

Or he tries to, at least. He’s just reaching for the door handle when it swings open with a mind of its own. He just about has the foresight to stagger back to avoid being whacked in the face.

“[Hero],” a voice says coolly from the stairwell.

The villain’s stomach drops in a way it hasn’t in a long time. He’s flitting round the corner to hide before he realises he’s doing it. He hates that his own father can still have this effect on him, even 16 years later.

Two superheroes stalk out onto the rooftop, seemingly oblivious to anything but the hero sagging on the floor in front of him. “Where’s [Villain]?” the other superhero demands after a moment.

The villain shrinks back in his hiding spot slightly. The hero doesn’t even look at his parents. “He left.”

The villain didn’t care what was happening with the hero, but the superheroes don’t seem to even notice. The superhero looks at the hero at his feet like a child who’s done nothing worse than get bad grades in school. The other superhero sighs like he’s simply a stubborn teenager. Of course they do. They never saw anything less in him.

Jealousy isn't the right word. Just distain, maybe. Annoyance that their parents had to have favourites.

“He left,” the superhero echoes coldly, “and you let him?”

The hero’s breathing is in tatters now. He seems like he’s barely even listening, his head bent, his chest heaving. “I couldn’t—”

“What kind of hero are you if you just let villains run out of your grasp?” the superhero snaps, and the other superhero nods shortly. “Villains waltz in and destroy everything me and your mother have created and, what, you cheer them on?”

“H–He’s my brother—”

“He’s vermin,” the other superhero butts in sharply. “You can’t even save the city from a rat? Is that it?”

The villain keeps his emotions carefully in-check. He knows his parents were never going to be happy with his life choices, but it still hurts. Being compared to a goddamn rat is a little hurtful.

And the hero. What’s with the shortness? He’s the best of both of them. The golden child, the star pupil, the one their parents spent all their time building into the perfect son. The perfect hero.

“Answer your mother, [Hero],” the superhero spits coldly.

Even the villain can see the hero shaking even from here. He’s practically choking on his own breath, his sight probably blurry with the tears. The villain’s heart twists in a way it hasn’t in years. He’s my brother reverberates through his mind uninvited.

“He can’t even answer a simple question,” the other superhero says with a disappointed tut. The villain recognises that noise—it’s a lot more of a death sentence than it sounds. “Pathetic.”

He’s my brother. He’s your brother.

The villain pushes himself upright.

“I– I can’t—” The hero stumbles over his words for a moment, a desperate cough pulling from his chest. “I can’t hurt people. I can’t hurt him.”

The villain heaves a deep breath, stabilises himself. “Sometimes you have to hurt people to get them to do what you want,” the other superhero says. She flicks her hair over her shoulder much too casually for this conversation. “You have to whip the horse to get it to move, [Hero]. I’m ashamed we haven’t drilled that into you yet.”

The fact that she doesn’t use his actual name isn’t lost on the villain. He takes a few careful steps out of the shadows.

Don’t leave me.

“You don’t need to whip a horse,” the villain says sharply. The superheroes whip back to stare at him, and it feels like he’s fourteen again; got too dirty, played too rough, liked the wrong thing. The you’re in deep shit kind of feeling. “You can get them where you need if you give them reason to trust you.”

“Ah,” the other superhero says with a disingenuous smile. “The vermin returns.”

The hero’s head has snapped up, tears streaking his face. The villain wants this to be over. “Leave [Hero] alone,” he spits. “Leave my brother alone.”

“Oh?” The superhero smirks. “Now you want to get involved in family affairs?”

“Go on,” the villain taunts stupidly, “show him how a real hero does it.”

The superhero strides towards him, and it takes all his willpower to stay put. “You act like goodness and peace are one and the same.” He says flatly. “Sometimes violence is the only language you animals understand.”

“What a thing,” the villain retorts. He can feel the regret building as he’s saying it like he’s a child again. Don’t draw his attention to you. Stop talking. “To call your son an animal.”

The villain feels, rather than sees, the superhero’s fist on his face. It takes him a moment to realise he’s on the ground, the cold concrete an unforgiving bed. The hero shouts something incoherent, his voice torn. “I would never hurt my son,” the superhero says, emotionless, “but you are no son of mine.”

“Thank god,” the villain says with a mouth of copper.

“Let’s arrest the rat,” the other superhero says. “We can question him about his associates at the agency.”

The handcuffs are refreshingly cool in comparison to the burning in the side of the villain’s face. The superhero shoves him to his feet with no less remorse than any other villain he’s dealt with.

“Let me take him,” the hero says quickly. He stumbles to his feet, breaths still uneven, sniffling desperately. The words come out choked. “I’m sorry for messing up. I’ll take him.”

The superhero pulls the villain a little closer by the cuffs. It’s almost protective, if he didn’t know his father better. “You realise villains aren’t doves that need releasing into the wild?” the superhero drawls. “They are scum that need stamping out. If you take him, we will find him in the agency, won’t we?”

“Of course,” the hero says shortly. “I’ll get him there.”

The superheroes eventually go on their way. The villain spits on the floor after them.

“Some city defenders they are,” he says flatly. “Why the hell didn’t you leave?”

“They entered me in a race I didn’t realise I was running,” the hero says. His face is pulled taut, sweat beaded on his brow, his voice shaking. “And when I figured it out, it was too late to do anything but live up to their expectations and win.”

His hands still tremble on the villain’s arm. “I’m sorry I didn't see it sooner,” the villain whispers, like his regret is a curse. “You could have come with me.”

The hero laughs insincerely. “I’m sorry dad punched you.”

The villain shrugs as the hero gently nudges him towards the door. “Comes with being a villain. I’ve been punched a lot harder than that before.”

“I don’t know how you live like that.”

“I don’t know how you do either.”

They share a smile, kind of. It’s a little awkward and subdued, but it’s a smile between brothers long since torn apart. That’s all that matters.

“Look,” the hero says after a short moment, “I’m really sorry about everything. I’ll get you out of prison.”

“And incur the wrath of those freaks?” The villain laughs. “No, don’t worry. I’ll break myself out.”

“I’ll get you out,” the hero says quietly, “and this time, I’ll come with you.”

The villain stares at him, unabashedly wide-eyed. “Really?”

The hero looks better than he did ten minutes ago—colour is just starting to warm his cheeks again, his breath a little more even. Relief floods the villain’s heart in a way it hasn’t in a long time. “Anyone who calls my brother vermin is no parent of mine.” They start down the steps, slow, lazy, like they’re putting off getting home from school again. “I’m tired of trying to fit into their perfect ideals of a hero. I’ll come with you.”

The villain grins boyishly. Getting punched was almost worth it to get his best friend back. “We have room for you.” Almost. “But you get the bottom bunk.”

The hero rolls his eyes but he agrees, and it almost feels like nothing ever went wrong.

[dotster001]

HCs for Ace, Deuce, and Epel with a reader like Toa Qelsum from Court of Darkness? I just think the chaos that will ensue with another uptight mf would be fun to read about

CW:Mentions of raising a family in Epel's part

3k followers event Masterlist

Other Versions: Rio Voleri Reader Dia Akedia Reader Lance Ira Reader-coming soon

God, you're such a stick in the mud. A high achiever, smart, and a strict rule follower? Barf. He's so happy that you were busy doing your…teleportation trick or whatever when he was hiding at the entrance ceremony cause he knows you would have ratted him out. He has no doubt you would've been sorted into Heartslaybul…for all the "wrong" reasons.

That said…there's something intriguing about the look behind your eyes. A look that screams, "I want to have fun! But no one has ever let me!" And Ace decides he's going to save you. By being the one to break you.

The rest of in game events proceed as normal, cause Ace will always be Ace. He still is an ass, he still causes trouble, he still makes you his best friend, still drops cryptic lines like "who knew you'd be my type, kidding ha ha!"

Is there any world, any mc, any Y/N, where Ace wouldn't fall for you? Be honest.

It's a "when did we start dating? Who the fuck knows they never even asked me out" kind of thing.

He's trying to break you so hard man. He's the devil in your ear, whispering about how wouldn't it just be…so fun if you stole that last slice of strawberry tart that Riddle thought he'd safely hidden in the freezer. He brings out the absolute worst in you…but sometimes you bring out the best in him.

You're the honors student he's always wanted to be. You really get your connection when he asks you to start tutoring him. You're hard on him, but it only makes him strive to do better! He doesn't want to let his favorite teacher down!

Ace teases him for months about how he's such a simp for you, and gets all blushy anytime you tell him he did a good job. Deuce tells him to shut his fucking mouth every single time. Until one fateful day. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but they don't come forward. Instead, his mind is filled with thoughts of you, your big brain, your soft smile. He reflects on his best friend and favorite teacher. And then it's all over for poor Deuce.

Naturally he does the honors student thing. He avoids you. He's terrible at it, but he does his best. Until one day, you show up and berate him for neglecting his responsibilities, and your friendship. In the midst of it, he goes delinquent mode, and angrily confesses his love. At your shock, he apologizes and is sweet again. And how can you say no to sweet Deuce?

Deuce becomes much more of a snuggle bug when you're dating. You still tutor him, but now reward him with kisses when he gets answers right, and makeout and cuddle sessions when his grades improve. 

Under your tutelage, he makes the dean's list. And ends school as an honors student, just as he dreamed. His mom couldn't love you any more.

You and Vil seem to have some sort of unspoken feud. Epel is living for it. Neither of you is ever outright hostile to the other, but the vibes…oof. It's like two very dominant personalities who should never have been left to try and work together. Epel is mad for you.

Lures you in with apple crumble 😉 

Once you're hooked onto him through your sweet tooth, he is able to express his admiration for you. He also has a dominant personality. But for you, he's willing to chill out a little. 

He's such an enabler. Oh sevens, anytime something about Vil pisses you off, he pushes you a step further. Sometimes, If Vil says something that hurts his pride a little bit, he'll stretch the truth, just to watch you go off on him. Sevens, he loves it. He can't help but feel so protected.

He takes you to visit his family with him…and is devastated when you're shocked by how kind and loving his family is. You deserve that love too! Meemaw unofficially adopts you as an extra grandkid, and makes sure that you get all the loving you have missed out on. Epel hopes you can trust him enough to have a family of your own one day, even if it is a small one.

[aaronbleyaert]

Magic, by any other name, is just a trick

I’ve always loved magic. For as long as I can remember, I was obsessed with the likes of Jean Robert-Houdin, Penn & Teller, David Copperfield, Ricky Jay, Harry Houdini, The Amazing Randi, Lance Burton, and on and on. In high school, while other people my age were sneaking alcohol and trying to kiss girls, I was in my bedroom practicing different ways to hide a coin in my hand (between bouts of playing D&D at the local Denny’s of course). I would study books on card tricks like they were holy texts unearthed in the caves of Qumran. I used to spend hours wandering through my local magic shop trying to decide on what trick I was going to spend my hard saved money on next.

But, of course, those are all just tricks. Not real magic.

When I was kid, at the end of every grade, my mom would make me fill out this book about everything I liked and didn't like, who my friends were, what sports I played, what I was reading, watching, etc.

I hated this book.

It was always the day after the last day of school - aka the first day of summer vacation, the first day of freedom - that I had to sit down and fill out the entries in this book. All my friends, already starting their summer vacations with jubilant screams from out in the street, and here I was with The Book. It was like a toll for all the fun I was supposedly going to have that summer.

Anyway.

So I'm back home in Michigan two weeks ago, going through some old photos, and what does my mom pull out of the cabinet... But The Book.

It was incredible. Truly.

So many years, so many tiny forgotten details, all right there at my fingertips. Absolutely unreal. Some things (Favorite TV show: Quantum Leap) I remembered; other things (Favorite Movie: Monster Squad) were an absolute epiphany.

Magic. Real magic.

This was the kind of thing I had been searching for, all those years when I was younger; but instead of the ability to read someone's mind, or pour endless amounts of water from a small plastic jug, what I got was a whole host of forgotten knowledge about Past Me, paid for in full from all those First Days of Summer I spent angrily scribbling my favorite things down through the years.

It's so weird - when I was a kid, all I wanted was to be somebody else. Somebody else, living somewhere else. To shout some arcane word or mutter an unholy phrase and instantly transform myself and my life into something exciting.

But now that I am somebody else living somewhere else, someone with a life that sometimes feels exciting, I find myself thinking more and more about who I used to be - and wishing I could open a portal back through time to who I was then. Wishing, again, that I knew how to perform magic. And finding this book did just that.

So if you're wanting to be somebody else, or be somewhere else, start by writing down everything about who you are now - but only the little stuff. The daily things that you find boring and wish you could forget. The small pleasures that make you smile but aren't big enough to make a ripple in your week. I promise you, that in three months, six months, a year, five years - you will realize that it all has changed: That you are a different person, living a different life. The only constant in this world is that it's always changing - whether you realize it or not. Life only happens when you look away. It might only feel like a moment, but when you look back, it will feel like forever.

Abracadabra.

[koolkon08]

Hi, fellow Canadian here! I recognize that textbook, as they used it to teach us in grade 3. In practice, that section is supposed to be paired with a lesson right before or after it that explains that Native Tribes used a different method of contracts than us and were typically misunderstanding it or tricked into it. Keep in mind, this was supposed to be a basic, kid friendly explanation for 8 year old.

Once we reach high-school (grade 7 where I was at the time) we got the much less PG explanation, with the threats and the guns and the illness and the raping and pillaging. We are told more about the misleading and the lies and the coercion. We get taught that those agreements to send the kids for school were forced or forged, and what happened at those schools. The punishments, the cruelty. In grade 10, We read books that were so upsetting that even the "less triggering" accommodation book they tried to let me read (Because I have PSTD from similar situations), still caused me to puke.

This is NOT to defend Canada's treatment of our Native populace- we are still finding hundreds of dead children. There are still dozens of missing women. Men still have trouble getting jobs or custody because of the "Drunk Native" stereotype. I don't know my own family history because I fall on the matriarch side and from multiple tribes/bands, meaning my blood percentage is too low to count for government reperations, and I'm pale as hell, so the safest thing to do was not teach me anything and let me fly under the radar as a generic heinz 57 white kid. But that didn't save me from the cycle of abuse started by the trauma my relatives experienced.

Our government is shit. Its taking way too long to fix the problems it caused. It still won't give them their land and continues to put profits before their lives. But it does not try to tell us we were heroes or friends. They are very clear that we fucked up. That our history is painted red, and that we still feel the effects of those fuck ups. Don't let a textbook for children let you think they hide it from us.

[stormtheskyelf2]

Do you have any headcanons for Engel and/or Claire?

Also if i may share a thought:

Engel nomming tiny-Claire to hide her from the teachers, thus Claire never getting tricked into opening Alice’s door.

...oh my gosh that's awesome. I love you now /p

Contains: Vore, romance

Engel is secretly dating Claire, but only secretly because I headcanon that the school forbids relationships to keep students from being distracted from A+ grades

-

Engel would definitely nom tiny-Claire. Either to save her or just to have her close

-

I imagine Miss Mocra would be against Claire dying because Claire seems like the kinda person to have good biology grades, for some reason, so Moc hands Engel a shrinker sometime in the morning like "you'll need it" with no explanation

and then once Claire is being chased Engel goes "Oh."

"..OH, THAT'S WHAT IT'S FOR"

-

I also think that Claire has anxiety, since she seems just nervous in general, so she definitely run to Engel for comfort noms/to hide from Zip or Oliver

[hawkinshighdropout]

Masterlist.

Key: ❀ - Fluff ✰ - Smut ☾ - Angst

❀ - Our Lips Are Sealed. Eddie comes into the music store you work at to purchase the new Metallica record, but he’s a few dollars short so you let him off the hook.

❀ - Hideout Hangout. Tuesday Night, Eight O'clock rolls around, and you’re on your way to see Corroded Coffin in concert at The Hideout. You promised Eddie you’d be there, was it worth the trip downtown? Spoiler Alert: It was.

❀ - Welcome to Hellfire, Kid. You’re the new kid in school and have no one to hangout with during lunch hour, Eddie comes and seemingly saves the day with his group of doe eyed misfits!

❀ - Fairies Wear Boots. Eddie has major heart eyes over the new kid in school and he can’t help but feel like a hopeless little puppy at the mere sight of you. As one of the few people in Hawkins that dressed how he did, you had his heart at first sight.

❀ - I Wanna Dance With Somebody. It's getting late but you and Eddie are hanging out and listening to music from the hood of his van, one particular playlist comes on and it opens up the door to a whole new side of your story.

❀ - Two Worlds Collide. You and Eddie strike up an unlikely friendship, built on the foundations a little white lie, are things going to unveil and fall apart, or will he overlook the slight dishonesty in favour of something more?

❀ - Painting Flowers. Hellfire have been invading your art space for a year now, causing you to behind on major deadlines. Will you hiding their most prized possession get them to behave? (Platonic Pairing)

❀ - Skyway Avenue. Eddie has totally fallen for the new metalhead in school and is taking every opportunity to hangout with you and get to know you. He takes you on a guided tour of Hawkins to show you around your new home.

❀ - My Boy. Eddie is desperate for you to attend his band practise, but unfortunately you have a shift at your job, he begs repeatedly but you have to decline. A few pouts and a lot of sweet treats later, will you be able to make it up to him?

❀ - Waiting for The Snake. Eddie has a crush on the girl who works in the pet store, you, so he visits daily just to admire you and try and work up the courage to strike up a conversation with you. You’ve noticed him around and take the chance to surprise him, and well? He’s definitely surprised!

❀ - Everything I Ask For. It's your time of the month and you are in agony, so your boyfriend Eddie does his best to comfort you and take the pain away. Fluff ensues.

❀ - We Get High. Eddie has smoked as long as you knew him, but you had never given it a shot, the curiosity gets the better of you and you ask to try a hit of his blunt.

❀ - What Took You So Long? Eddie is once again falling behind on his classes, his friend and your younger brother Dustin offers to tutor him to get his grades up. Only problem is, you are back in town and Eddie has had a massive crush on you for years, so it's hard to focus when you're around him...

❀ - Stuck With You. You and Eddie decide that you want to get matching tattoos, but as you are both low on cash you opt for doing stick and pokes in his trailer instead.

❀ - Hold Onto Me. You are having a tough day and struggling with being overstimulated during lunch hour, your boyfriend Eddie can sense that you are at your limit and takes you away from the situation to allow you to decompress.

❀ - Happy Halloween, Nerds! Eddie loves Halloween, yet his boyfriend Steve isn't a fan in the slightest, but with a lot of convincing? Eddie manages to bribe Steve to dress up and go trick or treating with their daughter, Rose. Spooky/fluffy things ensue.

❀/✰ - All Within My Hands. You get chronic migraines, they’ve happened for years and it’s only getting worse. Nothing makes you feel any better, so Eddie offers himself up as a form of distraction from the pain… Finger fucking!

❀/☾ - Please Don't Judas Me. Chrissy wants what she can’t have, Eddie. Your best friend and long-term boyfriend. Things are growing tense in the group as you are slowly being replaced by his new best friend. Only problem? He’s clueless.

❀/☾ - Today Your Love, Tomorrow The World. Your mental health has been getting bad again, worse than usual at least, and Eddie comes home at the end of the day to try and take some of the weight off of your shoulders.

☾ - Come Hell or High Water. You and Eddie come up with “Dare Cards” that can be redeemed at any point before graduation, but you only get three each. What will each of those cards be used for? Find out…

☾ - Beautiful Remains. Six months pass since the doomsday with Vecna, your boyfriend Eddie has become more recluse and you feel that you are losing him. What will it take to get him to trust you? To believe you still love him, scars and all.

☾ - You Will Be Found. You're new to Hawkins High and you're getting bullied by Jason and his band of assholes, Eddie finds you locked up in a storage closet and decides to scoop you under his metaphorical wings and keep you safe.

☾ - The Strays. You and Eddie had been on good terms, you were one of the few students in Hawkins High that respected him and befriended him, one day Jason says something a little too far, and you have to intervene. (Platonic Pairing)

☾ - Free Now. Your ex boyfriend Billy has been harassing you ever since the breakup and he just won’t take “no” for an answer. You have spent every day since then alone and sad, Eddie intervenes in your time of need and it caused a lot of unwanted attention.

☾ - The Weigh Down. You are working on overdrive at all times, pushing yourself beyond your limits as keeping busy was the only way you could keep those negative thoughts at bay. It all comes crashing down around you when another panic attack hits, your boyfriend Eddie tries to sail you through the storm.

✰ - Knock Knock. Eddie wants to try something new in bed, he wants you to try anal. You two were open to experimenting, but… Under one condition. You only agree to let him do that if he lets you peg him to make it even. Surprisingly? He agrees! 18+ ONLY!

✰ - Finish What Ya Started. You let Eddie try anal as that's something he's been fantasising about, but to make it even you declare you get to peg him. The weekend rolls around, Wayne is outta town and you two make use of the empty trailer by pegging Eddie. 18+ ONLY!

Eddie Munson x Reader WIP List! :)

Send me prompts to write about!

[snickerdoodlles]

📚 for the fic ask

Pat and Wai and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad realization that You're Friends With That Asshole

listen i'm a sucker for messy unwanted friendships and these two are very, very funny together, i cant help myself

so, the fic opens to the fact that Pat and Wai each see each other as Pran's free bastard man. do they hate each others' guts? absolutely. does Pran look Disappointed any time they're close to fighting? unfortunately. so they resolve to Tolerate each other's existence for the foreseeable future, and they tolerate each other so well they become actual friends (they refuse to acknowledge it though. they will do many things for Pran, including hiding a body, but admitting That Guy isn't toooootally the worst person out there? inconceivable)

it starts with a truce during their second year finals, shortly after Pat and Pran ""break up"". Pran gets vvvv stressed as projects come due, and it's the only times of the year Wai never flakes on him after The Incident Of Junior Year (high school). Wai's been Pran's rock through tough times like exams for ages (he doesn't get into the same anxiety spirals Pran does and will cheerfully use his bad grades to beat back any of Pran's intrusive thoughts). Pat's just Pran's safe space and really good at helping Pran loosen up or rethink whatever's overwhelming him at the time. and as Pran trumps whatever they feel about the other, Pat and Wai even go as far as exchanging phone numbers in the name Pran's sanity

further Totally Not Friendship shenanigans include:

Wai accidentally sends Pat a text he meant to send Pran. Pat responds exclusively in emojis in a text so long it fills the whole chat. Wai will not take this challenge laying down, cracks his knuckles, starts typing

Pat helpfully stands over Wai's shoulder and corrects his calculus and physics homework. the fact that he's good at teaching both is downright offensive, much to Wai's dismay. Wai finds his revenge when he shows Pat shortcuts and tricks for CAD (design software), and now the two of them are actively helping each other with their homework but like, pettily

Pat: uh oh by junior doctor is u Wai: ????what are you talking about, you know my english isnt that good *one google translate later* Wai: HEY FUCK OFF

one time Pat, Pran, Korn, and Wai see Ming on campus. Pat doesn't want to see his dad. for obvious reasons, Pran can't be seen by Ming. Korn is always willing to have a friend's back, except he can't make up good cover stories to save his life. embracing the deep wells of his practiced obnoxiousness, Wai's time has come

(he pretends to be a very new, very confused, but very earnest campus tour guide who's convinced Ming is a parent he lost from his main tour group, and proceeds to forcibly drag Ming every which way looking for said imaginary tour group while giving Ming an almost entirely incorrect tour of Ming's own faculty. Wai very nearly fails because the other three follow after them and barely manage to muffle their laughter. it's the closest Pat's ever come to admitting he actually likes the guy)

this:

basically Pat and Wai's combined energy is the b99 quote "the new plan is: no plan! we wing it! probably won’t work, but i said it with a lot of confidence" and i think it's a shame we don't force friendship on the two of them so we can enjoy it

[[ask me about the fic I'm not writing]]

[violettelueur]

— GOJO SATORU || IT WAS NEVER YOUR FAULT

↳ featuring : gojo satoru (ft. itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 21 february

↳ pronouns : non specified in imagine

↳ word count : 1.4k

↳ synopsis : while talking to itadori about your blindness, gojo starts to feel the guilt that he has been trying to hide overtake him again, only for you to have a few words of your own.

↳ request : Hello hello😊 I may or may not have been peering into your shops windows staring at the coffee. Its cold outside and I want something to warm me up- a fluffy story with, hear me out,A BLIND (fem) Y/n and Gojo. Like a blind jujutsu sorcerer would be pretty interestingPretty please?-flustered anon

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit...i didn’t realise you wanted a fluff rather than what i have written here...so i do deeply apologies for the mistake made on your coffee order ʕ º ᴥ ºʔ but i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and come again anytime soon ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

“Wait, so you wear an eye cover because you are blind L/N-sensei?” Itadori asked in a surprised tone, causing you to turn your head towards the direction of his voice which led the young sorcerer to be surprised since it generally seemed like you had the sense of sight that was tragically taken away from you.

“Oh yeah, I can’t see at all, so I tend to wear the eye cover so my eyes don’t get sensitive to the light,” you answered with a smile, trying to convey to the young boy that you weren’t offended by the question while using your index finger to point at the mentioned item.

“So how do you know where people are and where to walk since you don’t use a cane?” the first year asked in a questioned tone since he just perplexed at the whole situation as he had just discovered that you were actually blind rather than copying your boyfriend to have that ‘matching couples look’.

“Curse energy is really easy to sense over time, I can tell who is who by the amount of curse energy they have, just like your idiot teacher who is trying to scare me right now,” you explained while pointing behind you, only for Itadori to tilt his body slightly to the side only to find Gojo with a downcasted look on his face.

“Ah~ I can never trick you, can I honey?” Gojo muttered in disappointment before wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a way to greet you that he was here before hooking his chin upon your shoulder, causing you to shiver due to the feeling of his warm breath passing your cheeks lightly.

“Nah, you could never,” you cheekily commented leading to the strongest sorcerer to pout at your comment to which you could sense but was disheartened at the fact you could not see the look he had on his face. 

The same look that you loved and still do when you tease him back.

“How do you think I look then?” Itadori asked while ignoring Gojo’s affection towards you since he now was extremely curious about what you thought about him, appearance-wise.

Raising your right hand to hold on to Gojo’s arms that have encaged you, you quietly and slowly began to paint an image in your head of what you thought Gojo’s student looked like. From what you heard from your boyfriend as well as Fushiguro, Itadori was deemed to be a good person in their book and quite energetic and bright which was quite opposite to what Fushiguro was, even though you remembered the stoic sorcerer to be the little child, who would hide behind your legs and follow your around when he was feeling clingy or just lonely. 

He was also the only student within the first-year group that you got to see physically.

“When I imagine you Itadori, I think of a boy that has a really bright smile that shines brighter than the sun itself, also Gojo already told me you have pinkish spiky hair and light brown eyes, so there’s that,” you answered with a smile of your own before masterfully placing your left hand on the top of his head as if you could even see that he was right there. “Gojo also told me you were a tiny bit shorter than Megumi, so it’s not hard to pat your head as much,” you commented with a giggle before ruffling his hair leading Itadori to laugh with you, which caused Gojo to look at the scene with a small smile on his face.

However, there was still a hint of guilt that was planted in his heart as the stems were clinging onto his ribs at the fact you’ll never get to see Itadori physically nor will you ever see him and Fushiguro probably again.

He will never forgive himself for being careless and letting a curse have the opportunity to use its cursed energy to hit your eyes leading to the blindness that you now have for the rest of your life as well as the guilt he has to carry for the rest of his - no matter how many times you have told him it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but blame himself for the result, even Ieiri was dispirited at the fact she couldn’t use her curse energy to heal your sight back.

Even though, Fushiguro didn’t mention anything about it nor did he want to be shown as weak, Gojo remembered when the young child Fushiguro cried at the fact that you were never going to ever see him again and even when you consoled the child, he would burst in tear again when he looked into your eyes only to remember you couldn’t see him.

Tightening the hold on your shoulders, you noticed Gojo’s change in cursed energy as it flickered slight causing you to turn your head slightly to the direction of his face before using your right hand (that was not on Itadori’s head) to tighten the hold of Gojo’s arms as a way to comfort him before removing your other hand from the student’s head to hold your boyfriend’s hand that was on your left shoulder.

“You know Itadori when I lost my sight it was quite upsetting but I remember the child I was protecting, from what I remember hearing, he had graduated elementary recently and is going to middle school as of right now,” you stated, causing Itadori to look at you with a concentrated look on his face since it seemed like you were saying something that was going to be important.

“But I want you to remember this, I didn’t become a sorcerer to save people but rather to preserve the balance between humans and curses because in the end, I know, the innocence of some people will go away quicker than others and if I choose the life of saving people as my only objective, my guilt will only manifest more when I don’t save someone,” you explained with a calm but serious tone, it was as if you were not only talking to Itadori.

“I don’t want myself or other people to feel guilty when a fatal or irreversible action has been taken, that’s why no one is at fault for the reason that I am blind,” you confessed leading both Itadori to come to the realisation that you were talking about this goal of ‘giving people a fair death’ and the disadvantages of it, while Gojo was shocked at the fact you were hinting at him during your speech on how guilt is the most powerful thing that leads to the downfall of many sorcerers.

That’s what Gojo felt. 

Guilt.

Guilty at the fact he couldn’t save you in time during that mission.

Guilty at the fact you lost your eyesight.

Guilty at the fact at how you were now as a sorcerer even those you were more than capable to carry your duties as a special grade one sorcerer much to everyone’s shock.

But here you were telling him that it wasn’t his fault and it never was in the first place.

No one was at fault for your lost sight.

Suddenly the stems that were tangled around his ribs began to slowly wilt as they were steadily dying as your words refused to feed them the guilt that was giving them the power and nutrients to further grow.

It wasn’t his fault.

It was never his fault.

Steadily, a smile reached his face as he pulled you in further to his chest leading your back to hit against it leaving a few unusual shivers from you due to the feeling of the overpowering warmth and glee you felt from your boyfriend as his cursed energy brightened up with a certain glow you weren’t quite sure of.

“Thank you honey~ for everything,” Gojo muttered in your ear before continuing back to talking to Itadori in his usual cheerful and playful tone as if nothing sentimental happened between the both of you just right now.

Surprised at his sudden change of behaviour, you couldn’t help but smile slightly at his newfound brightness leading you to answer back his gratitude in a soft whisper that both student and teacher didn’t hear.

“It was never your fault, I love you”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[panharmonium]

THAT is the importance of an adult who Understands.

one of the things that i always come back to when i think about sasuke is that sasuke has virtually everybody in the village fooled.  you couldn’t find a more messed up kid in all the hidden leaf if you tried, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him, because he can’t afford to acknowledge or display weakness - firstly, because weakness means he isn’t strong enough to take on itachi, and secondly, because signs of struggle on sasuke’s part might mean that an authority figure tries to involve themself in his life, and sasuke doesn’t want anyone interfering in something he sees as a personal quest.  he doesn’t see himself as a child who needs to be looked after by adults; he sees himself as an adult in a frustratingly small body, and he wants all the other adults to leave him alone and let him do what he needs to do.  he doesn’t want meddling.  he wants everyone who has the power to potentially keep him from getting what he most desires to remain oblivious to his true state of mind, to not look too closely, to never see a child in distress, because if he ever lets on that he doesn’t have his shit together, it’s possible that one of the leaf’s less negligent grown-ups will swoop down on him and start trying to intervene/“parent” him, which to sasuke’s mind just means “get in the way.”  

sasuke, who has long felt like he’s already an adult dealing with adult problems, won’t tolerate that.  so he masks his issues, to the point where he has virtually everyone around him completely deceived.  his regular schoolteachers don’t worry about him - he’s a high achiever, he gets perfect grades, he’s top of his class in everything, he doesn’t make trouble.  his classmates don’t worry about him - they buy the ‘i’m so cool, nothing fazes me’ act and worship at his feet, even as he demonstrates that he wants nothing to do with them.  the rest of the leaf village doesn’t worry about him, either - they see him as a source of village pride (and a source of entertainment/drama, like when they’re all so excited to watch The Last Uchiha fight for their nation during the chunin exams).  even though sasuke is so messed up on the inside, the exterior facade he presents to people is specifically designed to prevent any wondering about how he’s doing.  as far as the world can see, he’s doing Just Fine (and while everyone is busy not wondering about his health, he can get down to the business of getting his revenge).

sasuke’s strategy for relating to other people is, essentially, the opposite of naruto’s approach.  naruto, in his early childhood, draws as much attention to himself as possible, causing all sorts of mayhem, in the hope that someone, somewhere will see him.  he makes trouble and causes problems precisely because he desperately wants someone to acknowledge his pain, and that’s how he ends up landing iruka as an adult support figure, because iruka notices what’s happening and decides to get involved.  sasuke, in contrast to naruto, doesn’t want anyone to acknowledge or even notice his pain, because if they do notice it, they might try to stop him from pursuing what he thinks is the only way to alleviate it.  that’s not an acceptable outcome for him, so instead of making a scene and calling attention to himself, he hides in plain sight. 

sasuke doesn’t want people to get involved in his life.  he wants to be left to his own devices.  he doesn’t think he needs (read: deserves) anybody’s help, and some tiny part of him knows that a Responsible Adult might raise their eyebrows at what he’s doing to himself, so he uses his “high-achiever, too cool for school” persona to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.  and he almost succeeds - until kakashi enters the picture.  kakashi, who can’t be fooled.  kakashi, who has known from Day One, Minute One exactly what goal is driving all of sasuke’s high achievement, and who knows that sasuke is NOT okay, in either the head or the heart.  kakashi, who in the above gifset can tell that sasuke is having a crisis without even turning around.  kakashi doesn’t need to be shown evidence before he gets concerned.  he’s known from the very start that sasuke is struggling, because he lived through similar pains and tried to cope with them in similarly unhealthy ways (remember: “useless things like emotions only get in the way”/“having too many ties in this world will only lead you astray” + “everyone you’re talking about has already been killed”/“they’re all dead...because i wasn’t strong enough to save them”).

sasuke still tries to put up the front.  a few scenes prior to the above gifset, sasuke is the one who is making fun of naruto for freezing up - you’re not hurt, are you...scaredy-cat.  and he completely fools his peers with his attitude - sakura’s got stars in her eyes, naruto’s super jealous; both of them think sasuke’s So Cool and Super Powerful and Not Afraid of Anything!

but when sasuke himself is confronted with a serious, imminent threat to his life (one against which his supposedly “advanced” skills are useless, one from which he can’t protect himself; aka, one where he’s suddenly reminded that he’s actually a twelve year-old genin and his safety is out of his control, just like it was the night his family was murdered), he’s the one who panics.  the other kids are scared, too - but sasuke completely loses it.  he almost kills himself to get away from the intensity of his fear.  *cough* it’s the ptsd *cough* but anyway -

kakashi is able to sense this without even turning around.  he’s preparing to fight an aggressor under the least ideal circumstances possible - they were supposed to be on a mission where it was four people protecting one man, but because tazuna lied to them, they’re now in a situation where it’s one man protecting four people, including three children - and even with all of that competing for his attention, kakashi is still focusing closely enough on each individual kid to sense that sasuke is going off the rails.  without even turning around, he knows.

we all remember this, right?

it doesn’t matter how much of an act sasuke puts on.  kakashi has been there.  he knows better.  he can’t be fooled.  he calls for sasuke by name and pulls him back from the brink.

kakashi interrupts this crisis so effectively.  not only is he able to snap sasuke out of his panic, but he’s also careful to then extend his reassurance to everyone present, accomplishing the dual purposes of calming everyone else down and also redirecting attention away from sasuke’s more extreme reaction, which the others haven’t noticed yet.  it’s deftly done.  it addresses sasuke’s crisis on an individual level without putting him in the spotlight.  it works.  the way sasuke relaxes in that last gif...man.

calm down.  i’ll protect you with my life.

i’ve already talked a little bit about how much it would mean for somebody with sasuke’s particular history to hear that (especially when those words are spoken by an adult who follows through on the promise every single time), but here i just want to focus on the fact that the only reason sasuke is lucky enough to receive this reassurance in the first place is because kakashi isn’t fooled by sasuke pretending he doesn’t need to hear it.  kakashi and the kids are very new to each other at this point, but even so, kakashi still understands sasuke better than any other adult in the hidden leaf.  he’s the first authority figure who sasuke hasn’t been able to trick into obliviousness - sasuke can’t pretend away his problems in front of someone who used to have all those same problems himself!  kakashi is too savvy to be waved away with the whole ‘i’m super advanced for my age i don’t need any help don’t look behind my mask’ charade.  kakashi invented that game.  he knows it’s one you don’t want to win.  he won it himself, when he played it, and winning just meant that everybody took him at his word when he acted like he was fine and nobody ever gave him the kind of help he needed.  he’s not going to let another kid get away with the same self-destructive shenanigans, not when he’s around to call their bluffs and be the kind of support structure he himself could’ve benefited from when he was younger.   

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.6

Previous

Warnings: major gaslighting, Lucifer being a horrible older brother, controlling behaviour, manipulation

if you want to be tagged please let me know or if you're already tagged and want me to stop tagging you let me know as well

taglist: @mediocredetective @it-hurts-when-i-blink

A/N: I don’t think I ever mentioned or implied it, but I wrote this with the intention of it being an AU.

The end of the work day was one of Arella’s favorite parts of the day- not because she didn’t like her job. It was quite the opposite actually. No, the reason the end of her shift was her favorite part of her day was getting to go home to Mammon and the home they had made together. And today she had special news for her beloved demon.

“Mam, I’m home!” The human calls as she rushes through the door, hanging her purse on the coat rack next to the door and her keys on the key rack next to that. “Mammon...?” When she gets no response to her calls, she sets about the house looking for the white-haired demon. It was odd for him not to meet her at the door.

She thought maybe he was just taking a nap so her first stop was their bedroom but when she didn’t find him there, or any place else she looked for that matter, she grew confused. Maybe he had just gone out for something- she did leave him money during the day in case he thought of something they needed from the store or anything of that nature, but his human world cell phone he had in place of the D.D.D. that he’d left at the House of Lamentation was sitting on their bedside table. Had he just forgotten it at home? Arella half expected Mammon to come walking through the door any minute now.

When there was a knock at the door, she went to go investigate it. She opened the door and to her surprise, Solomon standing there.

“Solomon? Well, this is a surprise.” She looks at him wide-eyed. “You didn’t say anything about coming to visit.”

“Sorry, I know it’s spur of the moment. Is Mammon home?” The sorcerer looks almost worried- like he’d been rushing to get here. “I text you earlier to warn you but you must’ve still been at work.”

“N.. No. I think he went out to get something- wait did you say warn?”

“Lucifer found you two a couple months ago. He’s been watching ever since. If Mammon’s not here then he must’ve made his move while you were away...”

Arella’s jaw dropped. He had found them? How? She’d been so careful but it just wasn’t enough apparently. She turned on her heels and marched in the house proper.

“Arella, what are you doing?” the silver-haired male follows after her.

“What do you think? I’m going to the Devildom to get my boyfriend back and give Lucifer a piece of my mind.”

“Arella wait. You can’t.”

“I think I can. It’s not like he can actually kill me- not when I hold a pact over him.”

“No, Arella, I mean you literally cannot. You’ve been banned from the Devildom for the foreseeable future.”

“I’ve what now?”

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It's only been a few hours since Lucifer forced Mammon to come home and he was miserable every minute of it. His brothers save for the eldest were all at school for the time being. He figured once they came home, they would laugh at him- at the way he thought he could leave them behind for his own selfish happiness. He plans on hiding away in his room for the rest of the night in silent protest. He’d stay here in this room forever if that would mean that his older brother would see how unhappy he was- but really, when has Lucifer ever cared about what made him happy. He wondered if any of his brothers would come looking for him when they got home.

--------------------------------------------

As dinnertime came around, the brothers had gathered around the table. It had been Beel’s turn for dinner duty so he got to decide their meal tonight. It was home-made ramen- Mammon's favorite- as a sort of show of good will. They all knew that the reason their brother had taken so long to come back from the human world that he had to be escorted back by force was because he was genuinely happier with the human than he was with them, but as a few minutes turned into thirty, a couple of them exchanged worried looks. Asmo placed napkin over the top of Mammon’s bowl so the food wouldn’t get cold when even more time passed and Mammon still hadn’t shown his face.

The Avatar of Greed wouldn’t join them until it was Lucifer who escorted him to the table, tugging Mammon by the arm like a father dragging his unruly child off for a scolding.

“Everyone, welcome our precious brother back.” He gave their brother a pat on the shoulder before going to take his seat. “Make sure he remembers how much we value his place in this family. How much we love him. He seems to be a little confused.”

The others looked between each other before looking toward the Avatar of Greed.

“’m not confused. I wanna go home... back ta where I belong.” The white-haired demon’s voice is quiet.

“Of course you are. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re already at home and in the one and only place you belong.” Lucifer picked up his chop sticks as he began to eat. He didn’t need to say it but the look he shot Mammon relayed it perfectly: ‘under my thumb,’

And it’s at this point the rest of the brothers turn to their own bowls, realizing that this is why none of them dared to step a foot out the line Lucifer had so meticulously constructed for them. This was the worst kind of punishment.

--------------------------------------------

The following three months were just as horrible for Mammon as that first day back. While his brothers hadn’t been particularly nasty to him, their presence was beginning to feel suffocating. One of them was always in his room trying to get him to do something with them- at least they were trying to be better. The only one he really took up the offer on was Satan who offered to study with him to get his grades back up because it was a necessity.

What was worse, Mammon couldn’t leave the house without constant monitoring from Lucifer. If he was at RAD, Lucifer was never out of ear shot. If he went out for a walk just to get some fresh air, Lucifer’s familiars were there to follow him until he returned back to the House of Lamentation. Mammon couldn’t even spend time in the Aviary with his crows- the only creatures that brought him some semblance of happiness- without the Avatar of Pride being more than a few yards off. He couldn’t go on like this much longer and still expect to remain sound of mind. It was overbearing, to put it mildly.

He had seen Solomon a few times in the halls at school. He wanted to talk to him- to see how Arella was doing, to relay the message that he was doing alright but he missed her. And the sorcerer looked like he wanted to give him something, often pulling out a white envelope for him, but each time the pair was interrupted by none other than the Avatar of Pride. He would confiscate the envelope from the silver-haired human and go as far as to burn it in front of Mammon with the coldest look in his eyes before escorting him to their next class together.

“Lucifer, please, jus’ let me read one letter. Just one, please?” Mammon pleads as they walked together after the latest letter burning incident. “I just wanna know how she’s doin’. Is that too much to ask?”

“No.” His voice is stern. “Mammon, can’t you see how bad she is for you? Look how unhappy you are now as opposed to before Arella came into your life. Back then you knew we loved you. She’s the one who put those outlandish ideas in your head so she could separate you from us. Arella played tricks on you. She didn’t take you away from us because she loved you, she wanted to use you- take advantage of you and your abilities.”

“No...” He takes a step back from his older brother, “No, ‘Rella wouldn’t do that. She loves me.”

“Does she though?”

“What?”

“Well, you yourself said her primary sin was greed, didn’t you? One of the benefits of keeping herself in your good graces is boundless wealth- we all know that. If you were in that position isn’t that what you would do?”

“Not that. I’d never mess with a person’s feelin’s for my own gain.”

“Mammon,” Lucifer’s voice is soft and firm as he placed a comforting hand on his little brother’s shoulder. “Have I ever lied to you unless it was to protect you?”

“No...” the white-haired demon says quietly. “Ya haven’t.”

“Then why would I choose to lie to you- my precious little brother- now?” He asks.

“I don’t know...”

“I wouldn’t. Look at you now. You’re so worked up over one insignificant, greedy human. Forget about her so you’ll feel better. I know this is a lot to realize so suddenly, would you like to go home and lie down for a bit?”

Mammon only nods as the eldest smiles softly and ruffles his hair just like he did when Mammon was small back when they were angels in the Celestial Realm.

“It hurts now, but you’ll be alright, Mams. You have your brothers. That’s all you need.”

Watching from behind the corner, Asmodeus’ eyes widened in horror. They’d heard the entirety of that exchange between their older brothers and they were in shock. As soon as the pair had gone, the strawberry-blonde-haired demon took off to demand an audience with Diavolo. Lucifer, in his attempt to keep Mammon under his control, was going far off the deep end.

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[disneydude94]

Marcy and the Frog (Amphibia Swap X Animorphia) - Headcanon

Here are some relationship that I made for my fan story. Some will be different while others will be based on each episodes.

On Anne's birthday like it was the same, except when Sasha dared Anne to steal the box from Marcy's adoptive dad and put it in her bag before they left their friends house with Marcy which she did not like the idea.

Later that evening at Anne's house during her birthday party, the girls sneak outside quietly, but Anne accidentally drop the box thus loosing three gems. Marcy quickly put the stones back, but two of gems was mixed up.

By the time Anne open the box dragging her with Sasha and Marcy into Amphibia. We all know what's going to happen, but in alternative way like how I based on "Sasha and the Frog".

Marcy Wu

The Plantars took her in after saving Sprig's life from giant praying mantis. Marcy admires all of each books much to Hop Pop's satisfied. They both get along quickly. He even taught her how to ride Bessie the Snail by reading the manual.

Marcy explain to her life story about her friends and her adopted family to Sprig as he felt the same way about his lost parents. They both became best friends like Anne and Sprig.

Polly doesn't seem to trust her at first thinking that she's going to eat her, however at the end when Marcy talks about her brother about ninja skills and then Polly started to get along with her.

Marcy became friends with Maddie and learn to use magic. Marcy gave her novel to Maddie and read the book to her little sisters. Marcy was being treated kindly by Mrs. Croaker, Leopold Loggle, Felicia Sundew, and Mr. Flour after helping them out. Marcy and Ivy became friends as they talk about their life.

Marcy help the Plantars to make their homemade recipe for Pot Luck and they ended up winning much to Mayor Toadstool's dumbstruck. Marcy invite Polly, Ivy, and Maddie for having their first girls day out while Sprig and Hop Pop stays behind.

Most amphibians in this town mistreated Marcy like an outsider until she snaps and lash it out at them when she tried to help, but they keep pushing her away. They all felt ashamed of themselves, until when the Toad Tax arrive, Marcy did return all of belongings to their owners when using invisibility magic as they all thanking her.

From that moment when Bog, Fens, and Mire almost take Bessie away, Marcy reveals herself and aim her crossbow to the toads much to their shock. Before they attack her, Marcy use all of her magic tricks to fight against the toads until the townsfolks arrive as they turn against the toads.

After the fight, Sprig discovers Toadstool's greed when hiding some coins inside the statue and show it to everyone including the toads. After the toads left with coins, everyone started to praise Marcy as their hero and treated her as one of their own when she felt touched.

Sasha Waybright

We all know how Sasha ends up in the Toad Tower, interrogated by Captain Grime, giant herons attack, promoted her as his new lieutenant, but in the "Reunion" when Marcy was the "Frog of the Year" and reunited with Sasha much to their happiness.

During that time at the Toad Tower, Sasha and Marcy are having their own conversation until Sasha reveals her plan is to rule the valley with the toads. After she explain her plan is to execute Hop Pop for being rebelled against the toads, Marcy was shockingly horrified and make an excuse so that she can warn the frogs.

After fail attempt to escape, Sasha caught them and bring them all up to the tower. Before the execution begin, Marcy tell them to stop, saying that Hop Pop is not the guilty one. Sasha was confused at first, but Marcy told her that she knew about the box which brought them here on purpose after having her conversation with her adoptive dad.

After she explain everything about her dad getting phone called by her school when told him that she'll be ended up in boarding school due to her grades falling behind (But she and her adoptive family were chased by bad guys that tried to rule China. Long story.) much to her shock believe that not only it would broke her friendship apart, but her family.

As the former friends fight by swords, Sasha release her anger, blaming her that Marcy's the reason why she was locked up in the dungeon for month. When Sasha insulted the frog family's name, Marcy unleash her rage, giving Sasha a scar on her cheek as she won the battle. Nobody noticed when her eyes flashes green a bit.

When the tower began to crumble from the explosions thanks to Wally's idiocy, Sasha nearly fall, but Marcy grabbed her hand telling her to hold on, but Sasha knew that she's never going to make it and she let go to her fate much to Marcy's horrified reaction, but Grime save his lieutenant from fall and fully retreat to the forest.

After the toads left with Grime carrying Sasha to the forest, Marcy cried, thinking that it was all her fault, but the Plantars were their comforting her saying that it's not her fault. They promise that they can help her get her home once they find her friends.

Anne Boonchuy

Anne ends up in Newtopia where their place was swapped by accident. She was wondering around the city until she accidentally fall off the stairs. Anne was taking to the hospital and taking care by Lady Olivia who's the one that she brought her in.

Lady Olivia introduced Anne to King Andrias much to her amazement at the size. After Anne explained everything, she shows the music box to the king, but Andrias was all joyfully excited that the box has return after thousands of years. King Andrias offers Anne a warm welcome to his castle and he trusted Olivia to look after her. Andrias will hold on to the box to study and he promised that he will bring her and her friends home.

After Anne's foot was healed, Olivia is teaching Anne about history of Newtopia for lessons. She's paying much attention without getting distracted and they quickly get along each other. Anne was introduced to General Yunnan as they begin their training due to fact that Anne was once doing Mui Thai and they were like teacher-student bond.

King Andrias tried to manipulate Anne like he did with Marcy, but she politely brushed off due to fact that Sasha was the one who manipulate her. He decided to made Anne queen for a day much to her shock having her panic attack, but Olivia was always there to calm her down. While Anne is queen for a day, she noticed when there's trouble and helps out most newts by rescuing the cat, helping the elder newt, and saving some trays for nachos. Everyone in this city started to like her and treat her as their hero.

For over a month, Anne went on many adventures like sailing with Yunnan when wearing pirate outfit, protecting the city from giant cobra, and rescuing newt from being sacrificed. She also learn to ride with Joe Sparrow. Andrias promoted Anne as his royal knight, giving her shiny armor, and her blue sword (which Yunnan already arrest Tritonio and took away the sword).

Once Marcy and the Plantars arrived at Newtopia, but their arrival was shortly interrupt by barbariant when attack. Suddenly, Anne intervene by scaring them away by fire. Once Anne has landed, Marcy quickly recognize and happily reunited with her best friend. Polly and Hop Pop started to like her after Marcy introduce Anne to the Plantars, but Sprig however doesn't seems to trust her at first due to encounter with Sasha.

During their mission to drive out the barbariant colonies, Sprig was eaten alive by the barbariant queen. Anne rush to save Sprig as she got eaten until she punch her way out with Sprig as he gaining his trust after she rescue him. After driving out the barbariants, Sprig apologies for misjudging her. Anne forgives him and they became friends like from the original one.

During their conversation between Anne and Marcy, they talk about Sasha, but Marcy got into fight with Sasha because she's mad at her for something that she would confess. After Marcy told Anne the truth about the box, she cried a little bit thinking that Anne would be mad at her too, but Anne was disappointed at first, but deep down, she knew her best friend will do anything to protect the Plantars like how her adopted family protects her. Anne promised that she will help Marcy to find Sasha and return home.

That's all I've been thinking about. If Marcy was the main protagonist instead of Anne like Wartwood is green while Newtopia is blue, it would all make sense. Then again, AU sounds better.

Just to let you know that I have twelve days until my birthday. My info box is still open, feel free to ask me about my future fanfic. Have a goodnight and I'll see ya real soon!

Taglist:

@ilovetvtoons @kevintoons915 @crazydisneynerd123 @lmjdraws @dodelidoo @bolt-neo @marcanne-lover @diamond28869

[rredboard]

i know we’ve all seen the nightwing movie intro post and i want to propose an intro to a tim drake (as robin) movie. also this is long so its under the cut

first of all i think that in this movie jack should still be alive and married to dana at the town house, after he gets out of his rich person depression. so if i’m remembering correctly, that would also mean to include steph, bernard, and darla as his friends. i think that one of the best aspects of tim’s run as robin is the fact that he’s hiding being robin from his dad, and the way that forced the robin run to focus on more than just being robin. i think that of tim’s generation of heroes at the time he was the only one who had to actively hide his hero status from his parent. (actually no that’s wrong there was anita fite, but i’m going to maintain this bc her dad was already entrenched in weird shit working for the deo, so a superhero daughter was not an insane jump i would say, esp with her family situation, by which i mean the guy that killed her parents) so anyways all this to say that i want the tension btwn his civilian life and his robin life to play a large role in the story, bc i love that shit.

so in that vein, i would want the movie to start out in his civilian life, and in a similar way to the nightwing movie idea where it doesn’t show his face until the title screen. like, we’re in the theater, we know what we’re seeing, so all we have to introduce is his civie life, bc we know who batman is and how he works.

so anyways to get to the actual intro…

we start out in literally the messiest teenage boy’s room you’ve ever seen. stacks of cds, messy notebooks with papers half ripped out, a half deconstructed computer tower, a picture of steph in a purple frame on the desk. there’s a photo booth strip of photos peeking out from behind with the core four, one of them wearing large oversized sunglasses so you can’t see his face. you hear a rustling sound off screen and a hand reaches onscreen and grabs a skateboard as a female voice (dana) yells for tim vaguely from a room away/downstairs.

we see tim’s legs/board as he jogs downstairs, then scan over like, family photos? to show the circus photo, show that janets died, jacks remarried, and like maybe some school awards? that taper off over time to show the effect of robin on his grades? like he’s focusing even more on being a hero, adding to the tension btwn civilian/hero life. maybe on the fridge there’s a report card with a c or d grade circled with the words “we will talk about this” or smth on it in red pen. tim opens the fridge, grabs a snack, and continues out the building, calling out a goodbye to dana/his dad on his way out.

outside, we see tim throw down his board and start skating (this part i see being soundtracked with i wanna be sedated by the ramones. major 90s teen movie vibes is what i want from this in general). he starts skating and we see the people he skates by wave at him, maybe with birds of prey-style notes pointing to each person saying what robin saved them from? idk maybe too derivative lol. anyways he keeps skating, doing a few tricks as he goes. the board obviously has like robin, nightwing, wonder girl, superboy, and impulse symbol stickers on it. maybe there’s like a handmade purple “s” design too for spoiler. anyways he keeps skating until he gets to a skatepark, where he meets steph, who says smth like “you ready to go?” and has either roller skates or in-line skates, obviously purple bc i want to really commit to stephs love affair with purple. we hear like a yes or smth from tim, who then skates into the park and we do a freeze frame on tim in the middle of a trick mid air, where we actually see his face for the first time, and get the big robin title over it. i want this to be disgustingly nineties.

i don’t know which robin arc i would want this to follow, or like a different plot, but i would like jack to find out he’s robin and make him quit. i’d rather have steph just get closer to bruce than become robin. i lovelovelove steph as robin but i’d want the movie to start and finish with tim as robin and i 1.) don’t want steph to die and 2.) just think that war games is too much to tackle to get him back as robin. i also don’t want a war games movie bc despite the fact that tim’s part of wg at his school is my favorite part of the arc, i really don’t want thay in a movie. like i would hate that in a way i can’t describe.

but also, i do want steph to be in a lot of this movie. she’s a really important character in tim’s run as robin, and at this point in the run, a lot of the issues were like half steph stories. also, as much as i love the core four, i’d like to focus on just gotham. i’d also like to maybe do tim’s 16th birthday arc, but i’d want him to already be 16 so…🤷‍♀️

soundtrack: lots of 70s/80s/90s rock and pop. the ramones, the clash (obvi), some led zeppelin, deceptacon by le tigre, blondie or maybe some spice girls? teenage dirtbag by wheatus is kind of a must. so is the cure. also when bernard hangs out with tim i want stacys mom to play when he sees dana. i have a brand and i stick with it. also maybe some rooney. during a steph part i’d really like chick habit by april march to play. also kids in america playing during a spoiler and robin fight montage.

so anyways yeah. that’s all i have. a lot of words for a little substance. and skater boy tim. i want tim’s vibes to be like a mix of both ferris and cameron from ferris bueller’s day off

[tinyboxxtink]

"Weird Secret Friends" *Chapter 11*

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

Alright this one is kinda short but I needed a cliffhanger, and I need to get to fifteen now. Also, I had to write the ending of this in the car and it's difficult so I ended it where I did. Plus I love watching y'all squirm. SUFFER.

----------------------

Rafael hadn’t texted you back since you told him you didn’t care whether he believed you or not, maybe he had gotten the hint and decided to leave you alone. Why didn’t that make you feel any better? You knew what you had told Sonny was true; you couldn’t be in any kind of relationship with anyone but alcohol. 

You’d never admit it to Sonny since he was so proud of you lately, but the monster inside you may be present more than you let on. It wasn’t big things that set you off sometimes, sometimes it was just one bad grade on a test, or being lonely. 

You knew you needed to reach out to someone, anyone other than Sonny. Get some friends of your own, people you could talk to. But you were too ashamed of your problems and your life to ever approach anyone. Even when students in your class would ask you to go out with them after school, you’d always decline in fear of what you might do while you were out. You could keep yourself from having more than one drink on your own, but the social pressure of being around other people drinking made you just want to keep going. And you knew where that led. Where it always led. 

You had kept the monster at bay for so long, it was exhausting most days. And now that you had fed it and let it loose, you were too tired to even try and reign it back in. So here you were, practically unable to move from being so sick from drinking fucking mouthwash rather than ride out your cravings. 

You looked up at the sky and began to pray for God to just take you right there and then, just so you would have to stop feeling like this. Not just physically ill, but completely devastated and heartbroken that the one time you had ever opened yourself to someone, opened yourself to love, the monster inside you killed it. Just like it killed everything. Now you just wanted it to kill you. You were just about to grab some pure rubbing alcohol from under your bathroom sink to drink, you knew it was lethal if you drank about a capful. You had it up to your lips when you heard a banging on your front door.

“Y/N! Y/N open this door!” 

Were you still that fucked up or was that actually Rafael banging on your door? No, it couldn’t be. Could it? You decided it was worth at least checking, if you had hallucinated it you could always come back to the bathroom. You forced yourself to stand up and hobbled towards your front door, still afraid to open it. If it really was him, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Your t-shirt was covered in bright green vomit stains, your hair was messy from puking, your hadn’t checked but you figured your face was probably disgusting. 

“...I’m not home!” The words came out before your sense kicked in to tell you that was literally the most idiotic thing you could say. Clearly he’d know you were fucked up now.

“I’m not kidding! I’ll break down this door, I swear to God,” His voice was angrier than you’d ever heard him. Well, that wasn’t saying much considering you hadn’t known him that long but still. 

“Uh...okay, just a second!” You called nervously, doing your best to quickly change your shirt and fix your hair. 

You grabbed a semi clean t-shirt laying on your couch and threw your hair up in a messy ponytail, wiping the dried vomit and drool from your face. You glanced in the mirror, you looked messy but just messy enough you were pretty sure you could pull off “I’m emotionally destroyed because of you” not “I’m totally trashed and fucked in the head because of you,” You tried walking as straight as you could to the door and softly opened it a bit, not letting him inside.

“Hey…” You gave him a sheepish smile. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be mad at him? Don’t act nice now just because you’re trying to act sober. 

“I mean...that’s a pretty lively looking corpse there, counselor,” You smirked. 

“...What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you the one who said you’d never be caught dead in Jersey?” You smirked harder. Damn, even when you were on the verge of dying you were smooth.

“Let me in,” Rafael said flatly. 

“Uh, no,” You said mockingly. 

“Let me in,” He repeated more sternly. 

“Do you have a warrant?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Dammit Y/N don’t make me shove this door open,” 

“Oh okay so now you’re threatening to break into my apartment? Why don’t you yell that a little louder, maybe my neighbor will call the cops,” You yelled at him while gesturing down the hall. 

“...Please let me in?” His voice lowered, his eyes softened. You were a sucker for those eyes, no matter how mad or worried about appearances you were.

“...Fine,” You sighed and released your hold on the door and walked away quickly to sit on the couch. You didn’t want him to realize you couldn’t stand without holding onto something. 

“Fuck, I knew it…” He muttered as he glanced around your apartment, then focused on you.

“Knew what?” You crossed your arms, playing it cool. 

“You’re drunk right now, aren’t you?” He looked at you pitifully, not livid like he was a minute ago. 

“What?” You kept your composure. “Uh, I’m sorry Rafael, do you see any empty bottles here? Any FULL bottles for that matter?” You gestured around your apartment while acting offended he would even think that.

“My dad was an alcoholic, Y/N,” He said softly which made you angrier, why was he doing this? 

“Um okay, so that has to do with me why--?”

“Tell me right now if I smelled your breath that it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly ‘clean’,” He talked over you.

“....What?” You blinked, trying desperately to act oblivious. 

Fuck, why did he know that was a thing? Well, obviously he just said it. If you weren’t so angry or out of your mind right now, you’d feel absolutely terrible for being like this around him now that you knew he’d been through this before.

“So it’s a crime to have dental hygiene now?” You smarmed.

“Dammit Y/N I know what you’re doing!” Now he was getting angry again, he couldn’t stand that you weren’t taking this seriously. He couldn’t stand watching another person he cared about completely shit faced in front of him, acting as if he was the one in the wrong. 

“And what am I doing, Rafael?”

“Sonny might be naïve, but I know what it looks like when an alcoholic is hiding their drinking!” He accused you.

“God dammit…” you muttered. 

So many things were buzzing in your head at that moment. One you now felt ashamed that he was seeing you like this, two you were upset that he knew all your tricks, and finally you were somewhat happy and hopeful that he cared enough to come for you. 

“Did you have an actual reason for coming over here, or did Sonny just send you to lecture me because he’s tired of doing it?”

“...Can you drink some coffee or something?” 

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why?” 

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” 

“What? Oh suddenly I must be out of my mind trashed because I’m mad at you? Guess what Barba, this is 100% snarky sober me,” You lied. 

“Mad at me?” He laughed. “Why in God’s name are you mad at me?!” 

“After the way you treated me--”

“The way I treated you?!” He cut you off angrily. “I treated you with nothing but caring and respect, Y/N. Even after you sat there in my apartment throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant drunken toddler!” 

“You--” You were livid at him calling you a toddler.

“Just because Sonny told you what I usually act like towards-- lovers, doesn’t make it true with you. Did I ever, ever act like you were some ‘conquest’?” He asked you.

“...No,” You bit your lip nervously.

“Did I ever make you feel cheap, or unwanted?”

“No…” You looked at the floor.

“Didn’t I tell you that you were different, that you meant something to me?”  He gave you a sad look, as if he was crushed that you didn't believe in him.

“But how do I know that wasn’t just a line?!” You protested.

“Because I’m here!” He gestured around your apartment. 

“And why are you here?” You pressed him.

“I don’t know!” He put his hands over his head.

“...That’s not an answer,”  You crossed your arms.

“It’s the only answer I can give you, Y/N,” He finally sat down next to you on the couch. 

You curled up your knees to your chest instinctively, still trying to hide your inebriation and the smell of your breath; even though you knew it was futile at this point.

“So, you come all the way here to bang on my door and yell at me, but you have no idea why?” You continued to be defensive, trying to keep him off your scent.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N? Huh?” He threw up his hands. 

“Do you want me to say it’s because I’m in love with you? Because for the first time in my life I found someone that I want to be with all the time, because you make me the happiest I’ve been in a long time, maybe ever?” 

“Uh no,” You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t ask you to lie,” 

“...I’m not lying,”  He looked at you very seriously, trying to take your hand.

“Yes, you are,” You shook your head and pulled away from him. “In fact I know exactly why you’re here,”

“....What is happening right now?” Rafael asked himself softly. He had just sat there and poured out his heart to you, and you were dismissing him completely. This is exactly why he should have just let you be.

“What’s happening, is that you-- you feel bad that you couldn’t... I don’t know, ‘deal’ with your Daddy issues," You air quoted Daddy, making him shift uncomfortably.

"That is so--" He tried denying it.

"True?" You gave him a look. "Let me guess, you couldn't 'save' him as a kid, right?"

"...That wasn't on me," He muttered, looking at the floor.

"You don't believe that," you scoffed. "I know you don't."

"And how do you know that?" He looked at you skeptically.

"Because I feel like I failed my parents, and they were the shittiest people on earth!" You exclaimed.

"How did you fail them? You weren't even--"

"By being born, Raff," You clarified.

"Carino, don't--"

"Look, my point is you've got this 'white knight syndrome', but you know what I learned? You can't save everyone, so you shouldn't even try,"

"That's a great philosophy," he scoffed. "So you don't even try?'

"Oh fuck off," You rolled your eyes. "I can't even save myself, let alone anyone else,"

"That's not true," he protested. "You saved me,"

"Oh my god," you made a fake gagging noise. "You're just saying that so it'll appease some kind of guilt,"

"I have zero to feel guilty about," he shook his head. For some reason that made you even angrier. 

"Alright well good! So you can leave,"  You pointed towards the door.

"No I'm not leaving, not until you acknowledge what I said," He crossed his arms.

"What? About you being in love with me?" You scoffed. "I told you that's a load of shit."

"And why do you say that?" He asked.

"For one, because you don't fall in love with someone just because they're good in bed," you gave him a look.

"That's not why--"

"And for two, nobody can be in love with a monster," You finished over him.

"You're not a monster--" he tried pulling you towards him but you stood up.

"Yes I am!" You screamed.

Well that was a bad idea. All of a sudden it was as if the chemicals from the mouthwash were sizzling around your insides. You doubled over in pain, the room was going dark. 

"Y/N? Oh my god, baby hold on--" he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap while he dialed 911.

"It's okay, you're okay...just...just hold on, please…" he pleaded with you while stoking your hair and kissing the top of your head, gripping you as if you were going to disappear if he let up.

That was the last thing you heard before everything went black.

[snelbz]

Swipe Left {Rowaelin Fluff AU}

A/N: We’ve been writing some aaangsty shit lately, and we needed a break to get some fluff out. Enjoy!

As always, written along side the loml, @tacmc​.

Attention, all passengers. All flights departing from Adarlan have been delayed, due to inclement weather. Please see the nearest information screen for more details.

Aelin dropped her head in her hands and groaned. She knew she should have taken the direct flight from Wendlyn to Terrasen, rather than booking the one with a layover in Adarlan. She knew she should have, but instead she decided to save a few bucks, and booked the cheaper flight, with the longer travel time.

And now Adarlan was experiencing some of the worst weather she’d ever seen.

As she looked around for an information board at her gate, a brilliant flash of lightning raced across the sky. The accompanying rumble of thunder shook the airport and Aelin begrudgingly accepted that grounding the flights may have been the right thing to do.

She sighed and pulled her phone out, noticing a text from Lysandra. She opened it, finding a picture of her feet shoved in the sand and a drink in her hands, with a text that read, Got my beach, got my beer. All I’m missing is you, bitch. What time do you get in?

She sighed and replied, Flights out of Adarlan we’re just grounded. No clue.

Her best friend’s response was short, sweet, and to the point:

Fuuuuuuuuck

Aelin laughed to herself, but closed out of her messages and began to peruse her social media apps, eventually opening Tinder.

She made a face, looking around the airport and thinking about how stupid it would be to thumb through her possible matches while in a another country. Especially one she wasn’t staying in for very long.

And then decided, why the hell not.

A blonde man who looked far too much like her cousin was the first that popped up.

No, definitely not.

Then a young man with striking blue eyes, raven black hair and a mischievous grin graced her screen. Mmm, maybe…, she thought to herself, scrolling down to read through his bio. Loves dogs, an avid reader, and-.

Nope, to the left he goes. A doctor. 

Aelin wasn’t sure she could handle dating another doctor.

On and on she went, finding a flaw in nearly every profile she looked at.

Muscle head. Swipe.

Drinks too much. Swipe.

Doesn’t drink enough. Swipe.

Too old. Swipe.

Too young, she thought, swiping left at the photo of a teen in his high school basketball uniform. He’d definitely lied about his age to get on here.

And then she was pinned in place by the most striking pair of green eyes she’d ever seen.

And those cheek bones, by the wyrd, she was jealous.

She scrolled through his pictures, wondering if the silver hair was natural or if he had to dye it to keep it that shimmering hue.

Gods, he was gorgeous. She looked through his pictures again, every single one of them a candid, but couldn’t help but hear that little voice in the back of her head.

What’s the catch?

He’s definitely too good to be true.

Scrolling down, she decided to read through his bio.

Rowan, 28

11th grade history teacher by day.

Whiskey aficionado and trivia extraordinaire by night.

Aelin blinked at the short and sweet description the man had written for himself and after swiping through his pictures one more time, decided there was no way this guy was real.

She was sure that whoever this Rowan guy was, he may have been an eleventh grade history teacher, and he may have been kickass at trivia, but there was no way in hell he looked like that. No, she was sure that was just some poor, unsuspecting model, with the most kissable, gorgeous face she’d ever seen, who’d had pictures lifted from his personal Instagram. She even thought about trying to reverse image search the model to see if she could figure out who he was. If she did, it would only be fair of her to let him know.

But until then, she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be catfished...again.

She swiped left, sending him to the pile of men she’d rejected.

“Ouch, so that’s a hard no, then?”

The voice came from behind her and Aelin whirled, so fast that her blonde hair fanned out around her.

That hair. Those eyes. That damn bone structure.

Aelin blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The man - Rowan, she realized - chuckled. “Can’t say it wasn’t entertaining watching you swipe left on the entire male population of Adarlan.” He smirked. “But after spending so long on mine, I thought you’d at least swipe right.”

Aelin was still stunned. “Fuck, you’re not a catfish?”

A silver brow arched and he chuckled again as he said, “No, definitely not a cat or a fish. All male.”

“So you teach teenagers?” She asked, gesturing to him. “So that’s your real job, even with a face like that?”

He asked, “A face like what?”

“You’re gorgeous,” Aelin said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, then she realized what she’d said. She covered her face with her hands, feeling her cheeks and the tips of her ears reddening.

But his grin only widened as his eyes narrowed, the most ridiculously handsome, smug look crossing over his face. “Do you judge everyone so harshly? What? I can’t be pretty and smart?”

Aelin’s hands slid off her face as she met his gaze, once again. “I never called you pretty.”

“But you called me gorgeous,” he countered, and at her scowl he breathed a laugh. “I’m Rowan.”

“I know,” she said, and held up her phone. “I cyber stalked you, remember?”

“Ah,” he said, leaning forward. “I can’t deny I did the same to you, Aelin.”

Oh, she liked the way her name sounded on his lips. His voice alone, that accent, had her toes curling.

“Did you swipe right?” She asked, slipping her phone in her back pocket.

Rowan smirked. “Guess you’ll never know, since you decided to swipe left.”

He adjusted the laptop case on his shoulder and winked, before walking over and sitting down at the closest plug, leaving Aelin staring.

————

How to unswipe left on tinder.

The question she typed in her browser mocked her and she sighed.

She picked at her unappetizing chicken - she thought it was chicken, at least - she’d picked up in the airport food court and looked around. The place was packed, travelers from everywhere stuck here until the storm passed. Almost every table was occupied, though she had gotten lucky and found one of the small ones by the wall. She was inclined to stay here until her flight finally departed, but she figured she could at least go to the bar until her flight and give someone else her table.

She was putting her trash on the tray, getting ready to get up when a head of silver hair sat down at the table across from her.

She blinked, watching his every movement as he plopped his tray down on the tabletop. He, unlike Aelin, went with burrito. After consuming her chicken...ish lunch, the burrito looked wonderful. She eyed it with envy.

“May I join you?” he asked, not bothering to wait for her to reply as he unwrapped the burrito from the foil and taking a bite.

Aelin opened her mouth to reply, but her lips snatched shut. She had already finished eating, was ready to go waste her time elsewhere. “I was headed to the bar.”

Rowan nodded, slowly, as he took another bite. He waited to swallow before asking, “So, first you swipe left, then you don’t want to eat with me? Apparently I need to take a hint. Then again...you did say I was gorgeous...so.” 

Aelin was caught somewhere between wanting to run and hide, and wanting to jump his bones. The latter was more appealing, but the former felt easier, all things considering. 

She pursed her lips. “Did you swipe, right?”

The gleam in his eye was wicked. “Have lunch with me.”

She exhaled through her nose. “Fine.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act so excited about it.”

Aelin closed her eyes and sighed. She was being a bitch.

Well, she was a bitch, but she was letting her bitch show.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You kind of...caught me on an off day.”

He looked around while he chewed,at their surroundings, at the people around them. “Yeah, I think we’re all having an off day.”

Aelin let Rowan eat, not asking him questions every few minutes, despite wanting to, though she did respond to his while he quietly ate.

He asked what she did for a living, she said she didn’t know because she was on the way home from graduating college. He asked what her degree was in, she said literature and English education.

He was balling up the aluminum foil and standing when he asked, “So you have a degree in education but you don’t know what you want to do for a living?”

They grabbed their various bags and carry-ons and she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He said, obviously, “Have you thought about teaching?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I have, but I have more passion for literature and English than I do for standing up in front of a classroom full of kids only to be disrespected and unappreciated.” 

Rowan looked at her, thoughtfully. “I had the same fear when I began, once I got my degree. But, I fucking love history, and my kids, for the most part, are great. If you choose to become an educator...well, the vibe of your classroom is in your hands.”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t protest. “Come get a drink with me.”

Rowan arched a brow. “Is this a date?”

Aelin put a hand on her hip. “Did you swipe right?”

He tilted his head. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“You said you’d tell me if I had lunch with you,” she laughed.

“I didn’t, actually.” He was smirking and Aelin wanted to wipe it off his handsome face, in whatever way she could. “I just mentioned that you should eat with me after I asked and you chose to.”

Aelin opened her mouth to disagree but then snapped it closed. He was right. “You tricked me.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

She stopped walking and he stopped and turned. She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Tell me if you swiped right and I’ll have a drink with you.”

He smirked. “Deal.”

She crossed her arms, waiting.

Rowan just arched a brow. “Come on. I’ll tell you after the first drink.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open, but Rowan was walking away, down the terminal. Aelin wanted so desperately to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he confessed, but she didn’t. Unable to control herself, she only walked after him, intrigued.

“What gate are you flying out of?” Rowan asked as she caught up to him. 

She knew exactly which gate it was, but she wanted to see if she could make him squirm. “C.”

She kept her head straight, didn’t glance over at him as he looked at her. She just asked, “You?”

That half smile returned and she knew that he knew she was trying to mess with him. “C, as well.”

They got to the bar and sat down, being waited in quickly, despite the larger than normal crowd. Aelin ordered a jack and coke and Rowan a 7&7.

The bartender gave them their ID’s back and said, “Thank you, and happy birthday, Miss Galathynius.”

She cringed as Rowan turned to look at her. “It’s your birthday?”

She lifted her hands and gave a half-assed attempt at spirit fingers. “Surprise.”

He stared at her for a moment before he said, “You should’ve said something.”

“What’s the point?” she muttered.

Rowan blinked, still watching her through his side-eye. “What do you mean?”

Aelin snorted as their drinks were slid in front of them. “I was supposed to be celebrating my birthday at home, with my best friend on the beach; but, instead, I’m here, stuck at the airport. I don’t even remember the last time I’ve had an interesting birthday.”

Rowan nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, I spent my last birthday in the hospital.”

“What?” Aelin asked, sipping her drink. “How?”

“Horrible food poisoning,” he laughed. “I’ve never been that sick in my life.”

Aelin shook her head. “Maybe we can celebrate our birthdays together.”

Rowan chuckled. “My birthday was five months ago.”

Aelin took another drink and set her glass down. “And?” She shrugged. “It’s someone’s birthday everyday. Why not make it yours?”

Rowan eyed her for a moment, his lips teasing the edge of his glass. Then, he said, “Alright. Fine. Today is both of our birthdays, what should we do?”

“Raise hell, obviously,” Aelin answered, shrugging, as she took a sip from her glass.

Rowan only grinned. “And what does raising hell look like to Aelin Galathynius?”

She smirked, but a thunder clap drew her attention to the windows they sat across from, to the storm raging outside. A crease formed between her brows. “Definitely doesn’t look like an extended layover in Adarlan.”

Rowan watched her, wanting to brush back the hair that slipped from behind her ear. He turned to the bartender and said, “Two shots of Gentleman’s.”

Aelin’s eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s one way to wake hell up.”

The small glasses were set in front of them and Rowan said, “To raising hell, Miss Galathynius.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and threw the shot back.

The bourbon warmed her entire body and she shook her head, blowing out a sharp breath. Rowan was watching her, a small smile on his face. He paid up their tab and they made their way over to the information board by the bar entrance.

“Has yours been updated?” Rowan asked, scanning the flights.

Aelin found hers instantly. “No, still just delayed.”

He nodded. “Mine too.”

“So,” she began. “What’s next on the birthday agenda?”

An easy smile spread across his face as he said, “Presents.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Presents?”

They walked over to one of the small convenience stores tucked in between the Starbucks and the restrooms. “Since today isn’t actually my birthday, I don’t get anything. But you do.”

She looked at the glorified gas station snacks lined up in the fancy shelving. “Oh goodie, a Snickers bar and the latest issue of Erilea Weekly.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked.

She laughed. “Not really. I don’t need anything though.”

“Everyone needs something on their birthday.” Aelin glanced up at him and he was looking down at her.

You could kiss me, she thought. That would be a pretty good gift.

Instead she said, “Okay, then surprise me.”

Rowan’s smile grew. “Gladly.”

Rowan took a step and Aelin followed, but then he froze, and blinked. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing?” Aelin asked, taking a step back, confused.

But Rowan only arched a brow and grinned. “If I’m going to surprise you, you can’t see what I pick out. Go away.”

Aelin snorted but sighed. “Fine. My gate is C-17. I’ll be there when you’re done.”

Rowan’s smile was triumphant. “See you there.”

Aelin headed back to the gate, sitting by the window and watching the storms swirl around them. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was Lysandra, but no picture accompanied her text this time.

How goes the long, boring wait?

She sighed. Long and boring. I have company though.

The text immediately showed “Read” and the grey typing bubbles reappeared.

Company? How?

Where? The airport?

Is he hot?

How did you meet?

Aelin smirked and typed back. I swiped left on him.

The bubbles reappeared and left and reappeared. I’m not following.

He’s gorgeous, so after hardcore staring at this face, I decided I didn’t want to get catfished.

So I swiped left.

And then I turned around and found him standing there, looking just as pretty as his pictures.

She hit send and waited, anticipating Lysandra’s next question.

What’s his name??

She laughed, knowing that Lysandra was probably driving Aedion insane with her commentary.

She replied, Rowan. And no, I don’t have a last name, but I think he’s flying into Orynth and he’s a history teacher.

The message sent and Aelin waited for her reply. The message was read, but nothing came in.

Twenty minutes later, when Lysandra hadn’t texted back and Rowan hadn’t shown, Aelin began to chew on the inside of her cheek.

She suddenly felt ridiculous. Most likely, Rowan had used it as an excuse to get rid of her. They were strangers, and nothing more. He wanted to get her a gift? Bullshit. He probably thought it was pathetic that she was spending her birthday alone in an airport and was getting a laugh out of the whole scenario. 

Aelin rose to her feet with the intention of grabbing her bag and going to the ladies room just for something to do, but then she saw him coming toward her, a shopping bag in hand.

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She dropped her purse back into the seat she’d been occupying. “Just to the ladies room.” She smiled sweetly, hoping he didn’t realize she’d been about to bail.

Granted, she thought he’d bailed on her.

He nodded. “Well, then, I’ll be here.”

He sat down in the spot next to the one she vacated and smiled at her.

Aelin began to walk away, but she turned and looked back at him. “By the way, you’re not, like, a serial killer that’s going to sell my organs on the black market, right?”

Rowan laughed, the sound rich and full and reminded Aelin of a bonfire on a crisp Autumn evening. “No, I’m not a serial killer and no, I won’t sell your organs on the black market.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Or the white market?”

He shook his head, chuckling, “How about this? I have no intention of causing you any bodily harm or removing your organs from where they already are.”

Aelin smiled and nodded, and continued into the bathroom. When she was washing her hands, her phone vibrated again and upon she pulling it from her pocket, she discovered why Lysandra had gone dark.

His name is Rowan Whitethorn. He’s twenty-eight, fit as fuck and looks like he could fuck you into a fit. He’s a teacher at Orynth Prep, where he’s also the coach of the varsity baseball team. His birthday is January seventh and he has a kitten named Snowball.

Aelin sighed and shook her head, laughing at her best friend.

You’re terrifying sometimes, you know that, right?

Her phone buzzed again.

Enjoy, bitch.

Then about twenty pictures flooded her inbox.

She had done a thorough job, Aelin had to admit. The few pictures she sent of Rowan shirtless certainly proved her “fit” comment. She didn’t feel the least bit shamed as she zoomed in on his washboard abs.

Aelin couldn’t help but stare, and gape, before she shoved her phone back into her pocket and went back out toward the gate, where Rowan was still sitting, scrolling through his phone. The second he sat her coming, his phone was put away.

“I was beginning to think you got lost,” he said, cocking his head to the side. 

Aelin cleared her throat. “I- yes, I did.”

His eyes flicked to the bathroom, which was a direct line to where he was sitting.

She sat and tucked the loose hairs behind her ears. “So what’s my present?”

She smiled and he couldn’t fight the tugging on the corners of his own lips. He handed her the shopping bag. “Happy birthday, Aelin.”

She opened it up, first pulling out a stuffed teddy bear, that was red and gold, the colors of Adarlan’s flag. In the center of its stomach was a big gold heart. She laughed. “Cute.”

He shrugged as if to say, I know.

She reached in and pulled out a t-shirt that read I’d rather be spending my birthday on the beach, but I’m stuck with a hot piece of ass at the airport.

Aelin threw her head back and laughed. “Where did you find this?”

He was chuckling himself. “You can convince people to make anything for the right price.”

She shook her head and pulled the last item out of the bag. It was a glass shot glass. Aelin didn’t even read the text printed, because Rowan said, “I was hoping you’d take a shot on me and let me take you to dinner.”

Aelin stared at him, blinked, then howled. Rowan watched her as she laughed, heartily, his slow grin spreading.

Once she calmed down, she wiped at her eyes and said, “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

Rowan’s eyes were soft as he said, “I was hoping not.”

Aelin put her gifts back in the bag and said, “Thank you, really. This was sweet.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, softly. “Is that a yes to dinner, then?”

She smiled, and took his hand, resting on his lap. “It’s a date.”

[dulafer]

TWIN REVENGE

This is an old one, just thought I’d share..... Its of my shortest stories. Any feedback appreciated - dclouser@mac.com 

REUNION

I’ve always been the odd twin out. Will and I were both named William C. Witt with the only difference being our middle names – Charles and Conner. I’ve never liked being called ‘Willy’ while William preferred ‘Will’. Growing up, our parents couldn’t tell us apart - we even have the same birthmark on our chins. 

I’ve always been jealous of Will for being the favorite. Many times, I’d answer to my brother’s name on purpose or force Will to swap places with me. The first time I was Will was when he was failing algebra in 9th grade and didn’t want our parents to find out. We swapped places so I could take his tests. My condition was that I stay as him for the day – soaking up my parent’s adoration and love. Will was definitely our parent’s favorite which pissed me off the older I got, often lashing out for attention. In high school I started impersonating my brother to get him in trouble. Sometimes, I would get caught because my brother would have an alibi with friends backing him up, or I’d would slip up wearing my hair differently or some other little detail. 

By our junior year, I started hanging with another group of friends and dealing drugs. My reputation for trouble followed me as my ‘business’ grew. Will knew what I was up to because people would mistake him for their dealer. Weeks before graduation, the principal caught me selling drugs red handed, thanks to a tip from Will. Since Witts are a powerful family, Dad worked a deal to allow me to graduate on the condition that I spend the summer in rehab.  The deal was made and the day after graduation, Dad drove me to the rehab center. I lasted a week before escaping and never being seen again.

My drug pals smuggled me out of Los Angeles to northern California.  San Francisco was the perfect spot for me. With my college age looks, I blend in on local high school and college campuses where my business grew exponentially. I wear the college gear that fit the campuses I was working daily. I’ve always been thrifty with my earnings and always a light user myself so I saved my money for a future free of drugs. When I can, I sit in on college classes, mostly political science since my father was always drilling politics into Will and I. 

Will on the other hand, was the perfect son. He attended college for political science, becoming a staunch conservative. But Will wasn’t always perfect. After two years in college, he dropped out and was hired at Prager U as a campus correspondent to interview students and follow trends. Will quickly picked up a fan base nationally and within months was buying a condo and new car – with the help of a proud rich father. Will travels the country giving speeches, interviewing people and blogging.

Mom and dad have all but forgotten about me. I faked my own death and changed my name when I heard my family was looking for me.  It was convincing enough that the Witts even had a funeral for me. 

CAMPUS LIFE

I’m at Stanford University working my regular ‘route’, supporting my boys with product. A few girls spot me, come running over and one screams. “Oh my god, Will! I’m your biggest fan.” 

I wonder why they’re calling me Will and fawning over me? “Hi, thank you so much.”

“We can’t wait to hear you speak.  You going to do a ‘man on the street’?” the other one squeals.

“Sure am.” Not knowing what that is even. I see one of my boys coming over for his weekly stash. “Excuse me ladies, I’m meeting an old friend.”

Tyler comes over with his usual swagger carrying his backpack. “Do I have competition bro?”

“No, not at all! You know you’re my main man.” We do his frat’s handshake. Anyone watching us would see us both in Stanford gear and just assume we’re students. We take a seat on a nearby bench, talk business, two minutes later, he’s leaving with my backpack full of drugs.

I walk around campus, wondering about those two girls calling me Will.  When I get to the campus hub, I see my face plastered all over the board. The flyers reads ‘Will Witt, Prager University, Topic: Campus Diversity’. I pull one off the board, fold it up and place it in my backpack pocket. I’ll be damned, my little brother in town. I have to see this for myself.

I get home and study the flyer, find the Prager U site and start watching my brother’s videos. We’re so alike with our political beliefs – neither of us have fallen far from our father’s tree. We both have the same attitudes and beliefs as good old dad. He even sounds like dad did, around the dinner table our entire life. I then log into his Instagram account, using Will’s password he’s been using for a decade. I’m getting envious of my brother’s life – he’s still the golden boy and I’m sure dad is super proud of him. He’s traveling all over the world thanks to this Prager gig. On top of that, he’s become famous on Fox and other mediums for being very articulate and full of energy. 

As I watch him, I’m getting very envious of Will. I’m as smart and talented as my brother. I could have been the favorite son, the celebrity.  ‘Should be, could be, will be.’ I think to myself. That should be my life.

The next day, I head to a theater supply store and buy a fake belly, beard/mustache and some make up. I’ve got to see my brother in action today. Will is scheduled to do a ‘man on the street’ interview on campus this afternoon, then the speech later tonight. 

I show up for his man on the street interview but hang way back, out of sight of Will. With my disguise, I’ve gained 50lbs, a full beard, sunglasses and wearing a tie dyed hoodie. I watch and listen as Will, his producer and camera man set up everything. I record everything with a shotgun microphone - hearing the back and forth banter between Will, his cameraman Gavi and Mike, his producer. That evening, I attend the lecture in another disguise just to be safe. I’ve haven’t seen Will in over two years but he’s still the same arrogant Will in private. In public he’s very friendly and charming. As I’m listening to Will speak, a plan starts to formulate in the back of my mind. Willy is already dead to the world, so why not become Will. It’s not like I’m inexperienced in doing it. It would always piss Will off when I would steal his identity and fool his girlfriends. While he was taking a shower, I would get dressed first, take his clothes, phone, car and pick up his girlfriend who was clueless. Will would be pissed but I would apologize and he would forgive me. One time Will called his girlfriend while I was impersonating him and couldn’t convince her that he was actually Will – I was that good. 

I start tracking my brother via his emails, calendar and social media. Will is flying from Los Angeles to Washington for a week, with Turning Point USA to promote Prager U and himself. Our parents will also be gone on vacation to Europe for months, with plans to hook up with Will in London for lunch and a show in a month.

MOVING TO LOS ANGELES

I need to formulate a detailed plan. Will has lived the good life long enough, it’s my turn now.  I start with cleaning up my life here – telling my friends that I need to disappear again. They buy it easily as it has happened before. I clean out my bank account – about $1m, and drive to Hollywood where Will lives.

I rent a furnished apartment across the street from Will’s condo. It’s perfect – from my living room and bedroom, I can see his entrance and garage. I keep my fake beard and baseball cap on all the time, and only use the back entrance to go anywhere. On his departure day, I watch him being picked up by an airport service and confirm his flight took off on schedule. I head to my bathroom and remove my beard and hide my longer hair under a baseball cap. The condo manager gladly provides ‘Will’ with a spare key when I tell him I lost mine.

Will’s condo is very nice with an open floorplan. There’s 3 bedrooms and 3.5 baths. The lower level is a 2 car garage, lots of storage, a large video recording studio and utility room. His silver Porsche 911 Cabrio is parked next to a motorcycle. On the wall is some leather gear, boots and helmet. The 2nd floor has a large living room with exposed brick walls, huge flat screen, fireplace, bar, gourmet kitchen with top end stainless steel appliances and a personal office. The 3rd floor is all bedrooms with a huge master suite with large bathroom and large walk in closet. The one spare bedroom is sparsely decorated with just a bed, dresser and chair. The other bedroom is mostly empty. It’s a great ‘crib’ but I’m certain daddy helped pay for most of it.

I get to work quickly with my plans.  I try to check out his studio’s computer but its password protected and I can’t get it to unlock. This isn’t a problem after I plug in a thumb drive with keystroke tracker and some other tricks. In a minute, I gain access to all his computers and social media accounts.  The password was his usual password but backwards.

His iMac Pro is a wealth of information – full of his unedited videos, speeches and even a digital diary. I thought he stopped doing a diary in 11th grade but apparently not. He updated it just this morning before leaving. I’m sitting there for hours reviewing his life since I left. His comments about my death and funeral are cruel to say the least.  He blames me for fucking up life with my death, how mom & dad are glad it’s over and they’re all better off. Even my father agreed with him. That’s fine by me, they won’t miss Will at all when I take his place.

I decide to spend the night here and continue my studying. In his basement studio there is a green screen, professional video cameras and teleprompters set up in one corner which he uses to make his cutesy videos. I turn on the equipment, click on a file and up pops the words to his last blog on the teleprompter. On another display in front of the green screen pops up the empty stool where he sits. On the stool is a remote I believe is for controlling everything. I plop my ass down, face the camera, and see myself, or Will on the display in front of me. I fuss with my hair to give me Will’s prominent cowlick, press ‘record’ and the words start moving for me to perform. “What’s up guys, Will Witt for Prager U” I repeat his performance, then delete file before passing out at 2am, after seeing his posts on landing in Washington DC. 

LOOKING THE PART

My brother prides himself on his hair, especially the huge cowlick that he’s proud of. According to his calendar, he had a haircut a few days before leaving for Washington. I make myself at home taking a shower, and pulling on some of his clothes – dark gray skinny jeans, t-shirt, jacket and his black high top converse sneakers. I’m missing his clunky watch and ring he wears all the time, and also his rope crystal necklace he’s been wearing since he was 15. The one time I was with one of his girlfriends, not having that necklace on, gave away my identity. I jump in Will’s Porsche and find a salon with a great google rating. I ask for my usual and show her pics from two days ago. They’re very close up and detailed. In half an hour, I’m smiling at Will in the mirror, running my hand through his cowlick. 

Back home, I pull in to the garage and before I can close the door, some pretty little thing is running over to me. 

“Will! Hey there, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Oh hey, you caught me.” I smile and act surprise.

“Tammy and I are having a party tonight.” She hands me a flyer ‘Jen and Tam’s Big Party’.

“That sounds like a blast, ‘Jen’.” Hoping she’s the ‘Jen’ on the flyer.

“I was just going to slip it in your mailbox. Thought you were going to Washington or someplace exotic again.”

“My DC trip was postponed, so I’m here.” I give her a typical Will smile. 

“Washington’s lost is our gain. You have to come. Besides you can crawl home if you get drunk like unlike last time.”

“I’ll try my best but super busy here.” I chuckle with her, not sure what she’s referring to but Will’s diary will probably help me remember some of it. I’d love to go but there’ll be lots of iPhones around and plenty of pics/videos posted on social media.

A friend sent me a lot of WiFi HD fiberoptic video cameras and microphones to bug my brother’s place. I place a few in each room then sync them to my iPad. Walking from room to room I test them all for activation. It takes all day to hide them properly. Later on, Will’s latest VLOGs and antics from Washington start appearing on his desktop. 

His video reminds me how different our styles are. Will was always conservative dresser while I went for the grunge look. His videos confirm his tastes haven’t changed at all except becoming more expensive. I’m making myself at home – it’s going to be my future home soon anyway. With my new haircut, it only takes a little of his gel to look exactly like him.

 It was always fun turning myself into Will when we were younger, it’s still a turn on now. I print out some pics from his PC files, showing various outfit he’s worn.  I’ve got to nail his ‘look’ perfectly for my future life. There’s one of him in a sharp black suit, white shirt and black tie playing a piano, with a red lapel thingy at a Prager U gala a month ago. We both took piano lesson but I was always a little better.

It’s easy finding the outfit in his very organized closet.  He took it off, left the lapel pin in and probably hasn’t worn it since. There’s a video of the gala in his files that I watch, providing me glimpses of his shoes and watch. I strip out of his jeans, and into the outfit. I couldn’t find his watch – it’s probably in Washington on him but I slip on his pinky ring and a different watch from his jewelry box. Back in the studio, I start a new file – Prager Gala, pretending that I’m Will being interviewed about the night’s events. I sit on the stool, hit record and adlib the event starting with Will’s signature “What’s up Guys” intro, including flashing his two fingers. Being Will is all very natural for me. I’m up half the night learning the equipment, checking out his videos and closet. I just need a few weeks of studying him before I replace him. 

To access his cell phone, a friend puts me in contact with a local guy who clones Will’s iPhone. It costs $2000 but I now see his text messages, calendar and listen to his voicemails. I can also listen in on his calls while he’s talking to people. I can’t speak to them, and they can’t hear me but it’s perfect timing. With him in Washington, his entire life is going through his cell phone, providing me with up to the minute information. He’s working on his schedule for the next few months. With access to all this, I’m learning who his coworkers are, listening to work conference calls, what they’re working on and what Will’s job entails as Prager’s ‘social media influencer’.

Will has a spare set of keys for our parent’s place so I visit just to see what changes have been made while I’ve been gone. The most obvious change is the lack of pictures of me. Their mantel has no pics of Will and I together. It almost looks like they have only one son – that I never existed. Everything else is pretty much how it was three years ago. As I was leaving, Mrs. Tarantolo, their neighbor sees “Will” and comes running over to say hello. She thought it was sweet I was keeping an eye on their place while they were away “Such a good son.”  She claims to be my biggest fan and hasn’t missed any of my videos. She’s clueless about me, as she should – when even our parents couldn’t tell the difference, I’m not worried about anyone. 

My week consists of listening, watching and reading everything he’s up to. I take his Porsche out to grab lunch or dinner to remote places so I’m not seen by anyone that could know him. A few times, fans mistake me for Will and I sign autographs using “What’s Up Guys”. They’re thrilled and its harmless fun for me.  

The week flies by and I return to my apartment across the road.  I return the spare condo key to the manager after making a duplicate of it. On schedule, Will returns via  LAX shuttle service. My surveillance system works perfectly as he moves around his condo.  I see him taking a shower, changing into sweats and working in his studio.  His buddy Mike arrives later with pizza and they brainstorm in the studio about their next VLOG and ‘man in the street’ topics. Listening to their banter helps me learn the lingo and their personal relationship.

Will has not changed a bit since I left Los Angeles – same old anal retentive asshole. It’s fun watching and learning about him. He’s still an avid runner, and like clockwork, he does five miles around a nearby park most mornings. Prager U is just a few miles away and he’s there daily unless he’s traveling. He has a new girlfriend he casually hooks up with but it’s not serious, so that’ll be easy. He writes about meeting her in his diary. He’s got his work schedule planned for the next few months and I know enough to handle it. After a few weeks, my gut is telling me I’m ready to be Will Witt. 

Will’s next major trip is to London for a scheduled Turning Point USA promotion/MOTS and speech at Oxford University – same as he did at Stanford. My plan is to replace him when he arrives home. This gives me another 10 days to get up to speed with his life. I watch him pack, see LAX shuttle service pick him up and confirm his plane took off as scheduled. I make myself at home but keep a low profile, rarely going out. 

Between his phone and computer, I’m kept busy 24 hours/day just keeping up with his life. He’s definitely a video freak, not only recording content for Prager but also everything else like his hotel room, what he had for breakfast, his shopping excursions. I can’t wait to wear his new $7000 bespoke suit he purchased during his shopping expedition on Saville Row. I listen in on his phone calls with our parents, his friends and girlfriend Lisa. This helps me get up to speed with what’s going on in his life. Mom & Dad meet Will for lunch at his hotel, then go to see Hamilton. There’s plenty of selfies and videos to make his life mine. He’s spending a fortune on food, wine, clothes, cigars and trinkets. 

A few hours before he returns, I’m armed with chloroform, truth serum and various knock out drugs.  I hide in his bedroom, ready to pounce with a heavily soaked rag of chloroform. It’s almost enough to knock me out just holding it. 

HONEY I’M HOME

The door lock jiggles and Will enters, plopping his luggage inside the door. He makes a beeline to kitchen and opens the refrigerator. He’s there quite a while before I hear him dragging his very large suitcases up the stairs. I’m crotched in the corner, behind the door as he struggles to get both bags through. The perfect moment happens when one of the bags get stuck in the door jam and I hear him say ‘fuck’. In a split second, I pounce and have the chloroform soaked rag over his nose and mouth. A split second after that, he almost falls to the floor as I catch him. I drag him out into the hallway, and finish putting his bags in the bedroom.

“Welcome home Will, have a good trip?” I look down at him passed out and ask.

“Awesome trip man, had fun with the TP USA team, saw Hamilton with the parents, and hit up lots of pubs and cigars. I’ll have to show you all the pics I took.” I respond to  myself in Will’s typical enthusiastic lingo.  

I drag Will to the empty bedroom and start stripping him. Of course, he’s in a sport coat and tie to travel. It’s so ‘Will’ I think as I carefully remove everything from him, amazed at how alike we still are. I strip off my old sweat pants and t-shirt and put them on him. I pull him up into a metal chair I anchored to the floor, then handcuff his hands and feet so he can’t move an inch. I kneel down next to him, grab his face, then rotate it side to side to check his appearance close up. My sideburns are about a quarter inch too long so I head to my bathroom and trim them to match exactly. 

 I carry ‘my’ clothes back to my new bedroom and slowly start my transformation into Will. I love pulling on the outfit he’s been wearing all day—his sweat and scents mixing with mine. Everything is still warm as I put on his black briefs and socks. His charcoal dress pants fit perfectly as I pull them up. His shirt has gunmetal gray cufflinks and is monogrammed on the sleeve with our initials ‘WCW’. I pulled the black lace up shoes off his feet without untying them. I wiggle into them, tuck in my shirt and fasten my belt. In the bathroom mirror I put on his tie using the same technique dad taught both of us.  I pull on his cool black sport coat with large dark gray plaid patterns. There’s a video of him wearing this outfit for red carpet Oscar interviews. I check his breast pockets, locating his iPhone, keys and wallet.  Tucked inside an outside pocket are his glasses. Slipping on his ring, leather wrist band and watch completes my transformation into Will Witt. I adjust my hair using his Cremo hair cream—Will is always fussing with his hair. Staring in the mirror, I only see Will Witt, just as he was traveling first class earlier. I grin at myself as I adjust my shirt cuffs and admire my looks. I do his usual MOTS intro flawlessly – “What’s Up Guys”. From this moment on, I’m Will Witt and no one will have a clue I’m not. 

My iPhone buzzes in my suit pocket, it’s Will’s girlfriend, Lisa calling. 

“Hey Lisa, I just got in the door babe.” I answer watching myself in the mirror, smiling and playing Will flawlessly.

“I thought you would be, I’ve missed you so much Will.” She whispers seductively.

“Same, may I take you out for dinner?” I ask as charmingly as Will does, remembering their conversation from a day ago, and Will promising dinner and a surprise.

“I would love that.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 7, Let’s dress up and go someplace nice. I’ll wear a suit and tie.” This gives me the afternoon to get settled into my new life. 

“Okay Will, can’t wait.”

“Bye Babe.” Will’s cutesy name he uses for all his girlfriends.

‘It’s show time’ I think to myself. I head back to my brother who’s finally starting to stir from the chloroform. I start slapping his face and he becomes more aware.

“Wake up Willy, Willy wake up.” I say playfully. 

He looks confused, slowly recognizing me, his eyes bug out, then starts to struggle. “But you’re dead?”

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Don’t struggle bro, you’ll only hurt yourself.” I laugh at him.

“What’s going on Willy? Why are you in my clothes?”

“From now on, please call me Will and they’re now my clothes. I just got back from London and I’m really jet lagged.” I stand proudly, straighten my tie then reach into my breast pocket for my new wallet.

“Asshole, what do you think you’re doing?” he yells and gets pissed as he’s now fully awake.

“Well, remember when you planted drugs in my locker, turned me into the school principle and ruined my life?”

“Yeah, that was a good one! They all bought it too. Got rid of you for good.” He laughs.

 “Well, laugh all you want.  I’m borrowing your life.”

“You’ll never get away with this. Whatever you are planning, won’t work.” He predicts.

“Well I’m taking Lisa out to dinner tonight to celebrate my return. In other words, I need pussy but Will doesn’t talk like that. Let me rephrase it – I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner and hopefully make love to her. Better?”  I leaf through my wallet checking it out, pulling out the debit card. “Bro, is your PIN still 8991? I may need some cash for my date. You only have a $40 in here.”

By the look on his face, I know he never changed is PIN. “Thanks bro, just needed to confirm that.” 

“She’ll know you’re not me, don’t even try it.”

“Bro, you’re talking to the guy who fooled all your girlfriends in high school. You’ve been dating her for what? About 6 weeks after meeting her at Jen’s last party where you got wasted and don’t remember getting home.”

“You’ve been reading my private diary?” 

“Well, you could say it’s my diary. So, I was just reviewing my life for the past few years.” I laugh at him. “Which brings me to a new issue – where should I take her for dinner, and do afterwards?”

“Fuck yourself.” He yells.

“Bro, I’m hoping to fuck her, not myself. You don’t want me to do something brash, ‘unWill like’ and ruin your relationship do you? I bet she doesn’t even know you have a twin brother, am I right?” I laugh at him. 

“Willy, what are you doing? Just untie me and I’ll forget this ever happened. I promise.” Trying to soften me up.

“Let’s get this straight, for the time being, I’m Will Witt, you’re nothing, don’t call me that again.” I yell at him. “Now, you’re going to help me be you or I’m going to really fuck up your life. You know I can do it. If you lie to me, there will be repercussions. Do not test me.”

“Okay.” He responds defeated.

“Okay, what?” I demand.

“Okay Will. Lisa loves Italian and there’s this little family owned restaurant called ‘Papa Joe’s’ near her house. She loves it and so do I. That’s where I was planning on taking her tonight. I always get the ‘Lombardo’ dish with an ice tea of course.” He answers defeated. 

“That’s good information bro, I really appreciate that.” I watch his face and have always been able to tell when he was lying. “What after that? What are her limits?  I need everything to be you with her. Give me the full history.”

He proceeds to tell me everything I need to know about Lisa – at least I hope so. 

“Now I need details about my job.  I know where you work, and what you do but more details about the people, office layout, where your office is and how I get in?” He gives me looks that could kill. “What’s up guys?” I mock him with his catch phrase. 

“My work ID badge gives me complete access anytime. It’s in the front pocket of my backpack. I have an office on the second floor, just left as you get out of the elevator. My name is on the door. You can’t miss it.”

“What do you do when you first get there, in the morning? Routine? Pals? Coffee? conference room? Where do you go for lunch? I need it all Willy. You don’t want me to mess up your perfect little life, do you?” I subtly threaten him.

Once I pump him for everything, I grab the bag from the corner, pull out a needle and inject him. He screams at me for about two minutes then become docile. I walk him to the bathroom and order him to relieve himself. Once secured back in his chair, I give him dose of Midazolam that will keep him out for 12 hours and put a ball gag in his mouth. I shut and lock the bedroom door, head back to my master bedroom finishing my unpacking. 

I slip easily into Will’s routine.  My shirts and suits will go to my cleaner per the receipts in the Porsche, the rest go into the washer. Carefully tucked inside his luggage is his new Saville Row Huntsman, a few new dress shirts and the Big Ben charm I bought Lisa in London. I can’t help but try on the new suit, admiring the fit and material. I head downstairs and see Will’s work backpack he has with him all the time. I take it down to the studio office and start going through the content…. A few cameras, my passport, iPad and MacBook Pro.  There’s a printout of my next Prager assignments and hand notes he made in the margins. I find his work ID, clip it to my suit, repack his backpack and head to the office. 

A DAY IN THE LIFE

I’ve followed Will to Prager U but have never stepped foot inside. I pull into an empty parking lot, and park in his assigned spot. Will says no one is ever there but he sometimes goes in to get a jump on Monday. My ID badge opens the main door. I easily find his office and make myself at home. On the wall I notice the signed photograph of Reagan that dad treasures and wonder how Will has it. I plop my backpack on the chair next to my desk and start exploring. I open my MacBook and it starts syncing with the LAN. I easily log in and upload my videos as Will does after all his events, according to his logs.  

I explore the entire building and everything is as he described – Boss’ office, video production, media center, studio, executive conference room etc. I confidently walk around taking in the names of my coworkers. In the men’s room, I smile at Will in the mirror and clean out my coffee mug. 

Back in the office, I settle into my desk and go thru my drawers, check my work email and respond to some.  I hear someone coming up the stairs, calling my new name, approaching my office.  I recognize it immediately as Will’s producer and friend – Mike.

“In here.” I yell out to him.

He pops his head around the corner. “Welcome back, how was your flight?”

“Uneventful, good to be home but jet lag.” I casually answer.

“My flight yesterday was delayed an hour from Chicago but not too bad.”

I heard their last conversation before Will took off this am, and continued it. “I’m good with the final edits from MOTS, just uploaded it so Alexander can add the graphics.” 

I pull up the video, knowing Will made a few cuts on the flight over, and show it to him.  

“You’ve been busy man, looks great. You want to grab lunch?” 

“Sure, you drive and pick.” I can’t resist the thought of testing my ‘Will skills’. 

Mike takes me to ‘In & Out’ for burgers.  He doesn’t suspect a thing, readily accepting me as his friend and coworker.  We talk about the trip, work and future trips. I feel as if I was actually there. He drops me off and I head back to my office and continue to familiarize myself with everything for a few more hours. 

My big test will be ‘my’ girlfriend Lisa.  I stay in Will’s slick outfit, donning his favorite Ray-Bans for the drive. She’s waiting for me outside and jumps into my car. Her unexpected full tongue kiss surprises me but I quickly adjust and give her full tongue back. We make out for a minute then I take her to Papa Joe’s.  Will was telling the truth, Lisa lights up as I pull in front and valet the Porsche. I use my brother’s pics, diary, blogs and text messages to talk about my London trip. When desert comes, I spring the Big Ben charm on her. She leans in tenderly, kisses me deeply and invites me to spend the night. 

At her place, we strip and jump right into bed.  In minutes, she’s moaning as I work her pussy, slowly penetrating it with the tip of my head. She starts moaning softly ‘oh Will, oohhh Will’ making me harder, pushing deeper into her as she climaxes. I explode in her, then collapse onto my back as she curls up under my arm and we fall to sleep.  She wakes me up with a blow job and homemade pancakes – Will’s favorite she notes. I’m not a big pancake fan but eat them eagerly as Will would. I’ve replaced Will completely and now have his sexy girlfriend. 

DAY TWO

I check on Willy when I get home and he’s starting to stir. My schedule today calls for video editing at Prager U with Gavi and Mike. I take a quick shower put on an outfit that screams ‘preppy conservative’ – which isn’t difficult as that’s all Will has in his closet, making my job easy. 

I pop my head in to the bedroom and see that he’s wide awake.

“Morning sunshine.” I cheerfully say.

“Let me the fuck out of these straps now!” he mumbles as I remove the ballgag.

“Sure thing, but first a little shot so you can take a dump and eat a little something. Hungry?”

“No, don’t drug me, it’s a fucking weird feeling.” He pleas.

“Sorry man, I can’t chance you getting free and having a fake Will running around.”

“You’re the fake Will, ass wipe.” He screams.

“Hmmm Lisa and Mike didn’t think so.  I ran into Mike in the office yesterday while uploading my latest VLOG and MOTS video, then had lunch with him.  He’s a good friend of mine. Oh, and Lisa… Damn did I hit her sweet spot last night as she moaned my name softly in my ears. She really loved the Big Ben charm I got her and the ‘Big Will’ I gave her. I think I’m in love bro.” I grab my crotch so he knows what I’m talking about. 

“You fucking bastard!!  Fucking asshole!! You’ll be caught. You can’t slip into my life that easily.” He screams.

“Now, now, Willy.  Guess you didn’t notice the video and audio bugs I installed throughout my new condo or the keystroke tracker on your computers. I’ve been catching up with you since Stanford. Your condo manager was gracious enough to give me a key after you lost it.” I run and grab my iPad and play some of the videos for him, then I show him the cloned phone and play his last conversation with Mike. 

“Guess I don’t need this cloned phone any longer. I have to admit, you’re quite the busy person. Your phone never stops ringing and beeping but don’t worry, I’m keeping up.”

“Fuck you Willy!  When I get free, you’re going to jail or worst.”

“If you get free, which I doubt. If you haven’t noticed, you’re bolted to the floor. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll have new carpet installed at some point. Nice thing bro – between my bank account and yours, I’m quite wealthy with a lot of future potential. In fact, after this gig, I’m thinking of running for office. Dad would love it and back me financially.”

He mutters. “Fucker.”

“Hey bro, don’t worry, I’m taking good care of your life. Enjoying it immensely, especially Lisa. She really knows how to wake me up but I’m not big on the pancakes.”

He thrashes back and forth in the chair screaming more obscenities at me.

 “Bro, seriously, how do I look? Do you approve my work outfit? I’ve noticed this sport coat is one of your favorites. Oh, and my new suit from London fits great and feels incredible. I just had to try it on.” I taunt him while adjusting my shirt sleeves and checking my watch.

“What are you doing here?” he quietly demands.

“Well the drug career pays quite well but is extremely dangerous.  After seeing you at Stanford, I decided a career change was necessary. Don’t you agree it’s a good career move?”

“You’ll never fool them for long.  There are things only I could know. You’ll tripped up.  What about mom and dad?”

“Are you serious?” I laugh out loud. “Mom and dad could never tell us apart, you know that. I did visit the house while you were in London and from the pictures displayed, it looks like I, Will, am an only child. They’re the least of my worries.”

“Oh, they’ll know you’re not me.”

“Why would they? Just look at me bro. I was always a better you than you, when I wanted to be. I do have to get fully up to speed with my new life, friends and girlfriend but that’s what all my new drugs are for. I kind of like your style so I’ll only wear what you already have in your closet.  I’m enjoying your preppy style. I think I’m rocking the Will look, you have to admit it.” I tug on my sleeves not interested in his rants.

“What about work?” He counters.

“Oh bro, that’ll be easy too. I’ve watched all your videos – the work and personal, edited and unedited. I taught myself iMovie to edit my MOTSs for uploading. I’ve seen you brainstorm with Mike on MOTS topics and question. It’s amazing how we even think alike politically. I’m ahead of schedule for today.  Like the anal person you are, I was in the office all afternoon while you were sleeping. I cleaned out my scummy coffee mug, organized my desk and left a note for Alexander on the graphics I’d like to see before the end of today. I can’t wait to meet the boss, have been a fan of his for years.”

“You can’t be me!” He slumps his shoulder in deeper defeat. 

“I am you, no one will have a clue I’m not.” 

I inject him with truth serum and a powerful muscle relaxer.  By the time I come back with breakfast, he’s docile and defeated. A few protein bars, quick trip to bathroom and he’s safely secured again. The truth serum is remarkable. I have a totally different discussion with him.

“Hey bro, how do I look? You like?” I spin around to model my outfit.

“I’ve worn that exact outfit before I think.”

“Thank you, now see, it wasn’t too hard to be nice, now was it?”

He spills his guts to me about all his coworkers, and what he thinks of them. While he’s drugged, I hit him up on family issues and his feelings towards me. He basically threatens to kill me and will since I’m already dead. It’s been on his mind since he woke up chained to the chair. I snicker to myself, knowing he’s the one who’s days are numbered. It’s almost time for work today, so I knock him out for another 12 hours.

My first day of work is a breeze.  I visit Alexander and review the graphics I want. Mike and I review the schedule and brainstorm future MOTSs and VLOGs. Will has the easy part and probably makes the most money. Prager’s staff writes his MOTS questions and helps him with upcoming speeches. He provides the topic, they handle it from there. Will was good enough to do my outline for his University of Texas speech next week. I turn them in and talk to Marissa, our content producer. I have the best gig – I just need to be the hip preppy conservative face of Prager U and get to travel all around the world. 

When I’m leaving Marrisa’s office, I run into Dennis Prager, the president of Prager University. He puts his arm around me and leads me back to his office.

“Will, good to see you, how was London? I just saw your rough video and it’s great”

“Thank you, Mr. Prager. London was great.” I respond and his face immediately looks puzzled.

“Since when am I Mr. Prager?”

“Dennis, sorry it just came out. I’m still out of sorts with jet lag and the British are so formal.”  I try to recover.

“I understand boy, plus you probably had too much wine and cigars I’m sure.”

“I sure did. I brought a few Charatan Robustos back with me” I chuckle knowing their conversations about them and using them to solidify my identity.

“And you’re not sharing? Will, Will, Will, how could you?” 

“I’ll bring them in tomorrow.” 

“Let’s grab lunch son.” 

I can’t believe I’m having lunch with Dennis Prager. He’s thrilled with ‘my’ work, wants me to do more TV appearances like Fox & Friends but also liberal networks. My ratings are through the roof. I talk about my London trip, showing him pics of my parents and selfies I took. We talk politics, going back and forth on issues. We get back to the office and I easily fit in and learn the ropes. By the end of the day, I’m very pleased with my new life. I pass on happy hour claiming I’m still of out sorts due to jet lag. 

CHECKING IN

Back home I check Willy. He’s awake but groggy.

“What’s up guy? How was your day?” I ask cockily as I strut in.

“How do you think, you sick fuck.”

“So sorry to hear that. My day was awesome. My latest VLOG and MOTS are killing it. I had lunch with my friend Dennis and he wants me to do more TV spots. It was probably the best day of your life, I mean my life.”

“My life! You fucker, my life.” He screams with pure rage.

“Wow bro, you smell. We’ll have to get you a shower but first I need to change. Be right back.”

I run to my closet and throw on a pair of running shorts and a Prager t-shirt. I keep my cell phone on me as it’s been going off all day. When I get back to Willy, he starts yelling at me.

“What are you up to? Did you get me fired? The truth, you owe me that at least.”

I laugh. “Now why would I mess up my career bro?”

“It’s my life and career. You’re going to pay for this you fucking asshole.” He continues to rant. 

“I’ve had enough of you already.” I grab the ball gag, shove it in his mouth and he starts thrashing again. My phone rings, it’s Mike calling.

“Hey Mike, What’s up?” Willy’s eye light up watching me.

“No, I’m fine, it was just jetlag and you know me…I tried all the beers and cigars in the pubs…Yeah buddy…thanks for your concern.”  I hang up and look at Willy. “Hey that Jetlag excuse will be good for another few days till I get the groove completely.”

He starts mumbling again but the phone rings again with Lisa calling. 

“Hey babe, how was your day?” I sincerely ask. Willy starts squirming and getting louder. 

“Hey babe, hang on, I’ve got my producer calling.” I put her on hold, walk over to Willy and gut punch him with all my force. I impale him and he shuts up.

“Sorry babe, did I thank you for last night?...Oh yeah, I’d love to but I’ve got a lot to catch up with…My parents are coming back Wednesday from their European vacation and we’re suppose to do dinner Thursday? Would love for you to meet them….Okay… love ya.” 

“Bro, see how easy this gig is for me? I still need you for some additional information like the combination to the safe in your office.” He stares at me but is keeping quiet. I grab my little box of drugs and mellow Willy out.  A quick shower, shit and change of clothes and he’s back in his chair. I feed him a sub and water that he quickly inhales. 

“Now Willy, what’s the number to my safe?”

“Go fuck yourself.” he mumbles.

“Willy, you know I could give you some truth serum or beat it out of you.”

“17858” he spits out as in disgust. 

I head down to his safe and open it up.  Inside is a gun, his birth certificate, social security card, and a stack of other seemingly important papers. I grab it all and take head up to review with Willy.

“Nice Glock Willy, let’s review what’s in my safe and why it’s there. Some quality bonding time. Most of this I know but the rest?”  I ask nicely.

“My contract with Prager U, noncompete, mom & dad’s will, my will, some stocks dad gave me.”

I leaf through it, reading it all and ignoring Willy. In between docs, I feed him some granola bars from the kitchen. I play with the unloaded gun in front of him, on purpose. I’ll have a use for it soon.

“Ok brother, more work questions. There’s ‘PR shots’ on calendar for tomorrow afternoon. What’s with that?”

“Joel, our CMO set them up.  It’s just ‘glamour’ pics for his new marketing campaign.”

“Oh, so that’s what my new suit is for I’m guessing. The email to Joel saying you’re all set after you bought it?”

“Yeah, please don’t fuck things up for me Willy. I’ve worked hard this past year.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m Will.” I gut punch him again.

“I’m sorry Will.” He cries in pain.

“That’s better Willy. So, tell me what to expect.”

“Easy, take suit to work, some of my shirts, ties and jewelry.  Collette in our makeup will take care of the rest. Just smile and do what they tell you in front of the camera.” he answers, still in pain.

“Shoes?”

“The black derbies I had on yesterday, I bought for shoot specifically, wanted them broken in. Doesn’t matter though – they only shoot from waist up.”

“Now that’s more like it. Don’t fight me, help me so I don’t fuck up your life.” as if he’s ever getting it back, I think to myself. 

“Yes Will.”

HANGING WITH FRIENDS

“Now, my friend Tommy wants to go out tonight, grab dinner. What would ‘Will’ do?” 

“He wants to do 71Above – it’s the highest restaurant west of the Mississippi. Tricia, his friend is host there and can get us in. Very high end, suit and tie required.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yeah, he’s picking me up, I’m paying.”

“I’m paying!” I correct him. “What were you going to wear?”

“There’s a black Tom Ford suit with a red lapel pin on it, I’ve only worn it once for a few hours. White shirt and any tie.”

“Oh yes, my outfit from the Prager gala where I played ‘blue moon’ on the piano. What tie, what shirt?” I demand.

He looks at me shocked. “There’s a new gold paisley tie, white spread collar shirt with cufflinks.”

“Why thank you brother. I better go and get ready.” I shove another granola bar in his mouth.

I easily assemble the outfit he was going to wear. After all my spying, I’m sure I would have selected something as tasteful. I skip the gold paisley and decide on a ‘men in black’ look, almost exactly as he had on at the gala. A quick shower, 20 minutes with my hair and another 20 to dress and I’m still 36 minutes early for Tommy.

“How do I look Willy? Now be honest.” I ask walking into the bedroom.

He checks me out head to toe. “You look good Will. You’re wearing my good watch?”

“My good watch brother, remember? You wore your smaller ring at the gala but I stuck with what I had on coming back from London. I think I looks great. Went with the gold black onyx cufflinks. And dude I even had my name embossed inside the suit, sweet!” I open up my jacket.

“You’ve been watching my videos.” He realizes.

“Of course, and reading your diary, all the way back to when dad drove me to ‘New Starts’ and abandoned me. I’m good Willy, been watching you for a month.”

Just then my phone rings in breast pocket. I pull it out and see it’s Tommy.

“Now keep quiet Willy or you know what’ll happen.” I warn him as I answer. “What’s up Tommy? On your way…yeah early is good, I’m ready… Okay, that sounds good, see you soon.”

“Please don’t drug me bro, I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Sorry Willy, can’t take any chances. Besides, Tommy mentioned about having a drink when he gets here. Sounds like it’s routine for you guys. What does he drink?”

“Rum and Coke, lots in the fridge just for him.”

I grab the knock out needle and give him a dose.  He doesn’t fight me at all.

“Why thank you bro. I’ll see you later tonight maybe, if you’re awake.” I laugh as I leave and lock the door. 

Tommy walks in without knocking, making his way to my bar as I make my way down the stairs. He sees me and lifts the glasses.

“The usual?” 

“Sure, sounds good to me.”  he’s right at home, grabbing the rum and coke.

“Cheers!” he hands me one, we clink glasses and swig.

I follow Tommy’s lead the entire evening but I know enough about Will to discuss his trip, girlfriend and work. Tommy talks about his auditions for a few movies and a commercial. Sadly for him, I’m a bigger celebrity than he is, as a few people ask for my autograph while waiting to be seated. Tricia has seats for us right next to the window with the best view of LA. It a fun night as a few of Tricia’s friends join us. It’s easy playing Will and his friends. I have everything put on my tab. Thank god he has an early audition for a new Marvel movie, so we leave and I’m home by midnight. 

MORE WORK

I’m up early but Willy is out cold still. He looks like death, probably from all the injections and being upright on the chair for days. Not that I really care as it gives me more ‘Will Time’. To keep in character, I put on some of his work out gear, grab my iPod and do my usual run around the park. I work up quite the sweat but it probably helps with all the alcohol Tommy and I consumed. I check on Willy and he’s now awake and not happy. A quick injection allows me to get him relieved and toss him in the shower. He’s not putting up any resistance so I give him breakfast, leave him in the tub but making sure to securely handcuff him to a grip bar. I take my morning shower in the same shower so I can keep an eye on him.

Willy is so beaten that he’s stopped resisting completely and is cooperative even. Believing that by helping me, I’ll get what I want from him and leave him to his old life. What he’s doing is sealing his fate faster. Once I no longer need him, we’ll head up to my parent’s cabin in the mountains and he’ll be fertilizer. 

After I towel off, I sit on the toilet seat next to Willy.

“How you feeling Willy?” I ask trying to sound concerned.

“Please Will, can I stay here in the tub all day? I promise I’ll be good.”

“I think I can do that but you have to be knocked out. But sure thing. Tommy is a fun guy bro. He sure loves his rum & cokes. We had a blast. I think he was hurt that women were coming up to me for my autograph but not him.”

“Yeah, that’s happened before when we’re out.” He looks really down.

“What is it bro? you look sad.”

“What do you think? I’m chained up and I can’t believe people are falling for your act.” he gets a little feisty.

“Come on bro, how could they not think I was anybody but Will Witt? Don’t worry, no one suspects a thing, so we’re good but I need your help with today’s schedule – sorta of ‘what would Will do’ session just to make sure I don’t fuck anything up for you. Okay?”

“Sure Will, it’s what I live for.” he responds sarcastically.

“How do you come up with the topics for your MOTSs?” 

“Who do you think? Dad, you know how opinionated he is. When we had dinner in London, he rattled off six topics for me to cover and things he’d ask these snowflakes.”

“Ah I thought you sounded a lot like dad when interviewing people. That explains the notes on your iPad. By the way, I’m having dinner with the rents Friday night, having them meet Lisa.”  I just smile at him. “Now about today’s pics, what should I wear? ‘What would Will wear’?”

“We’ve been through this – my new bespoke suit.”

“Exactly what you’d wear today – into the office and for the shoot. I’m just trying to help you Willy.”

“Dennis is always pushing for me in more suits and ties, to be taken more seriously outside the campus forum. Keep it simple – black button down shirt, my charcoal brooks brothers suit. For the shoot, the bespoke of course and take all my new dress shirts and ties, many pairs of cufflinks. I love my gold paisley tie, the one you wore last night. Hopefully you didn’t ruin it.”

“No, I went with a black tie, so the paisley is fine.”

“There’s a large suit bag in the back of my closet that can hold everything you’ll need.’

“I have to tell you bro, I’m gaining a real appreciation for your closet. My tastes have really matured in the past months. What’s with the glasses though?”

“They’re for eye strain bro, giving my eyes a break now from the contact lenses. I also wear them for important interviews or meetings where I want to look more mature and smarter.”

“Well your glasses and contacts work great for me too. My eyes have been changing but I never had them checked. Now, what about the shoot? Who’s going to be there?  How does it work? What does Will do?” I press him.

“It’s a larger version of my down stair studio. Someone will come get me when it’s my turn, take me to changing room, then make up, then to the set – green screen. It’s easy really.  There’ll be people in and out all day long.”

“People like who?”

“Candace, Charlie Kirk, Dave Rubin, Guy Benson and many others.  It’ll be a few days of craziness.”

“Nice!  Do I have any nicknames or personal things with any of them?  Like, how do you address Candace? or Charlie?” He stutters and hesitates. “Spill it or more drugs. Besides, you don’t want me to fuck up anything with your friends now do you?”

“Candace is ‘Candy’ jokingly, she’s getting married in a few weeks.” He continues with the others. I’ll use the information but it sounds childish – something a more mature, evolving Will would never use.  I’ll phase that nonsense out. 

“Good to know. Thanks. I’ve got to get ready for work.” I grin at him.

Dennis Prager alluded to my evolving image during lunch and that I should be wearing more conservative outfits. I agree completely with the boss and love the image. With that in mind, I ignore Willy’s suggestion and go ultra conservative. I remember a beautiful light blue shirt with white contrasting collar and cuffs that ‘I’ve’ worn a few times. It would be ultra conservative with my gray Brooks. 

In Will fashion, I lay out my work outfit on the bed, adding all the details. When I’m satisfied, I pull it on my underwear and socks, pull on my pants.  After I add the belt, I pull on the Brooks shirt.  To keep with the Brooks theme, as Will likes to do, I select the Brooks tie that he wore previously. The whole image screams ultra conservative and looks great. I add white gold cufflinks, his smaller ring and gold watch. I pull on the jacket and stare at myself in the mirror. I put some gel in my hair then fix it exactly as in the pic I found in an old MOTS video. Oh, almost forgot my tie clip. He’s famous on Instagram for his tie clips? I clip one on and it completes my image. I flash a Will smile and fingers. “What’s Up Guys?”. 

I must have nailed the look because when I entered the toilet, Willy’s mouth dropped. In the bathroom mirror, I admire myself, tug on my cuffs and adjust my tie. I don’t say a word.

“Well aren’t you Will Witt.” He comments snidely but I ignore him for a few more minutes as I run my hand thru my hair.

“Who else would I be?” I turn around to face him. “What’s Up Guys, Will Witt for Prager U.” flash my peace sign to him, pretending I’m holding a microphone.

“Probably a better choice for today. No pocket square Will?” 

“Oh shit, totally didn’t notice.”

“In drawer under jewelry box.”  He answers me without even asking. I run to his closet, find a nice silk white one neatly folded in a square. I tuck it in my suit pocket and check myself out in the mirror quickly.

“Better?” He’s silent.

I pull out his preppy glasses and put on and off. “Glasses, no glasses?” I look at him.

“I don’t care, up to you.” 

“Know what, think I’ll have pics taken both ways. I think they make me look older, which would kill my ‘frat boy’ image on college campuses but might help me with the older generation.” I turn to look at his expression but he looks broken. “I love this suit bro, it fits me great. I made sure the knot was right by noting the length of the tie, and location of stripes. Not used to wearing one, almost forgot the tie clip – my fans would have blown up over such a faux pas.”

“True, they watch everything I post.”

“Ok bro, I need to get to work, busy day ahead. I’ll probably be late tonight because Mike wants to do Furley’s for happy hour. I’ll let you in the bathtub so you’re comfortable but how about something to help you sleep?”

“No don’t do that please, I’ll be good.” He begs.

I ignore him, grab the needle and knock him out for the day. 

I jump in my 911 and head in for another day in the life of Will Witt. The suit bag weighs about 30lbs and takes up the entire seat of my 911. Everyone accepts me and I keep learning more and more.  The lingo is coming naturally to me. The routine of emails, small talk and understanding my role is easy. 

I hang my suit bag and jacket on the back of my office door, grab my coffee mug and ease into the day.  Just before lunch, Nicki, one of the film staff comes for me – it’s my turn. I’m seated in in one of the dressing rooms, in a makeup chair, in front of the mirror. Collette comes in all smiles. 

“Will, you’re looking great.”

“You too, so let’s get started. I’ve got a lot to do today on top of these pics.”

“There’s something we’d like to do different this time.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds ominous.”

“Well, how about we cut your hair some?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that Collette, it’s my signature, my “conservative with the best hair”.” Sounding uncertain for effect.

“Well, I was talking to Dennis and Joel, and we feel you should be the focus, not your hair. We’re not talking about shaving your head, just toning down the cowlick some. If you don’t like, it’ll be back in a few months.”

I think about it for a minute, running my hand through my cowlick, looking at Will in the mirror. I’ve seen videos where the wind destroys his giant flop, part of his gig but in the end, I nod in approval and let Prager U redo my image. 

The ‘Will’ PR shoot was so simple, but time consuming.  They brought in some famous stylist from West Hollywood to cut my hair – it took an hour! They went through my suit bag and laid out a number of outfits but didn’t question my taste. They took multiple pics of me in 5 different outfits including what I wore in this morning. I was there for hours. At the end of the day, we head to Furley’s as planned for happy hour. I left on my new suit and last outfit I was photographed in. What a happy hour – hanging with Charlie Kirk, Ben Shapiro and other famous conservatives was incredible. Thanks to Will’s unedited interview videos, I knew exactly what small talk he had with a number of these conservative celebrities and played them perfectly. 

When I get home, my first stop is to taunt Willy still tied up in bathtub.

“Hey bro, this suit is simply amazing. You were right, the shoot was really easy, except for having to change every 20 minutes. Like my haircut?” I tease

“What did you do to my hair?” 

“Willy, remember, it’s my hair. It’s a shorter, more mature, conservative cut. Everyone loves it.  I still have the best hair of any conservative. I texted it to mom and she loves it too.” I open up the iPhone and scroll thru pics from the shoot, then laugh and leave to change into sweats. Following the same routine, I inject Willy, help him to bathroom, feed him and put him to bed. In just a few days, he’s totally changed from being in control to being dependent. He’s definitely a shadow of himself but I’m now casting his shadow.

Every day as Will gets easier as I seamlessly take over his life.  I’m sure I’ve slipped up a few times but since no one knows Will has a twin, who would suspect me? Wednesday at work was incredible. I helped with the rest of the PR shoot, chatted with all of my new conservative friends. I especially liked talking to Dave Rubin and Candace Owens.  I had dinner with everyone that evening and it went really late. By the time I got home, Willy had wetted himself. I was so pissed that I shoved a hot pocket in his mouth, hosed him off and drugged him heavily. 

On Thursday Gavi and I do a man on the street, at Santa Monica Pier. I nailed it – quickly picking up Will’s attitude and methods. It was easy after watching all his videos from the past year. Back in the office I sit down with Gavi, edit his video and work with Alexander to add the graphics.  

Willy is awake when I get home. His eyes scan me from top to bottom then he starts yelling through the ball gag.

“Hang on Willy.” I pop out the ball gag.

“I hate you Willy and I’m done playing your game.” He spits and hits me on my shorts. 

I gut punch him with all my force, then inject him to keep him docile. “Now Willy, we’ll get you on the potty and fed quickly. I don’t have a lot of time, Lisa and I are going to dinner at mom and dad’s. I really like her.”

I get Willy settled, take a quick shower and head out to pick up Lisa. Dinner is a breeze as Lisa is the center of attention. There’s no discussion of Willy at all – just about me and how proud they are of everything I’m doing. As I expected, they were totally clueless I wasn’t their precious little Will. I have to admit, it felt great being home. I showed Lisa my old bedroom and got a BJ on Will’s bed. It was like old times, like his other girlfriends I fooled. Mom and dad announced they’re heading to Hawaii to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary and ask me to watch the house while they’re gone. More time to get reacquainted with my new life as their loving son Will. I spend the night at Lisa’s but get up early to take care of things at home, then work.

Willy is awake and pissed more when I check in on him. 

“Morning Willy.” I cheerfully announce.

“You’re Willy asswipe.” He yells back.

I gut punch him with all my force. “Don’t make me repeat myself Willy, now who am I?”

“You’re Will, Will Witt.” He’s barely able to speak, I hit him so hard.

“Now that’s much better Willy. Let’s get you to the bathroom and fed.” I inject him and continue talking while it takes effect.

“So, mom and dad love Lisa bro.  I think she’s really falling for me.  She gave me a BJ in my old bedroom. Sadly, your old bedroom is now a workout room with no trace of you at all. I showed Lisa my swimming and track trophies, tried on my old letterman jacket and gave her the whole Will Witt history. Can you believe mom and dad are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary? I can’t!” I lay it on thick as the caring son that Will is. 

“Fuck off.” The mumbles.

“Oh Willy, don’t make me hurt you more.” I warn him. I can see the drugs have kicked in, and start untying him. Just as I loosen the last night, Willy tries a fast one on me, trying to tackle me to the floor.  I’ve wrestled him too many times and know his ‘plays’ and another gut punch and I’m dragging him into the bathroom. A quick shower, shit and breakfast bar and he’s good for another 12 hours.

Once he’s secured, I jump in shower and prep for another day in the office. Fridays are so routine with a team strategy meeting for upcoming projects/videos/content.  This is followed by lunch and office time till happy hour at Furley’s. After happy hour, I meet Lisa and a bunch of her friends out for more drinks and dancing, then back to her place.

END OF THE ROAD

I’m up early and skip out of Lisa’s, telling her I have some chores to do for my parents and I’ll be tied up all weekend. Willy is awake and thrashing about trying to get loose. I enter the bedroom smiling, and clap my hands.

“Willy, good news! Road trip bro! We’re going to the cabin to take care of some things for Dad. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He stares at me, blood shot eyes, a week of facial hair, looking like crap. “Good, could I sleep in one of the bunk beds?”

“Sure thing bro, then we’ll talk about next steps here.” He calms down, feeling better, probably thinking he’s getting his life back.  He’s not. 

I drug him, give him a shower, get him dressed and fed. The next morning, I get him ready for 4 hour trip to the cabin. The dosage I gave him should keep him out for most of the trip. I pack some clothes and fishing gear in case I get the urge. We leave at 5am to avoid any traffic. 

He sleeps the entire journey and I don’t stop once. I’m careful to drive the speed limit to not attract any attention from state police. I pull up to the cabin before 9am. There’s no one around, no one on the lake even – all peaceful and quiet.  With Willy securely tied up in the car, I walk around the cabin inspecting the place, reminiscing about our family outings and fishing trips. In the rear about 500 feet from the house is an old well that’s been dry for years. Dad has been talking about filling it in for safety for years, but never did. It’s the perfect place to hide a body.

When I get back to the car, Willy is stirring. I help him out of the car and walk him inside the cabin. 

“Will, untie me please. My arms and wrists are killing me.” He pleas.

“Sure thing.” Knowing he’s drugged still and couldn’t run anywhere or harm me. 

We walk out to the back porch and I hand him a coke and sandwich. He sits on the step eating and enjoying the partial view of the lake.  I laced the coke with enough fentanyl to kill him – he’ll just pass out and die peacefully. 

“So what’s the plan Will? I guessing this is it for me.  Am I right.” As he takes a large chug of the coke.

“Yeah that’s about it Willy.  You won’t feel a thing though, you’ll just fall asleep. Hope you enjoyed the coke, no after taste?”

“Nah, it tasted fine. You know I need a few cokes a day to keep the energy up.”

“Yeah, it’s a habit I’ve had to adopt. You know Willy, I’ve always been a better you and this life is perfect for me. Don’t worry, I love my new life and have seamlessly integrated into it.  I’ll take good care of it.”

He’s in a daze now, the drug is kicking in. I help him up and over to an Adirondack chair near the fire pit.  He puts his head back and starts breathe erratically. Within minutes he stops breathing. I waste no time stripping and dumping him in the well. I grab a shovel and start shoveling dirt into the well until I can’t see any evidence. For good measure I add another foot of dirt on top of that. 

I’m exhausted after that, take a shower and dress in clean clothes. In town I grab a bite at Palmer’s diner – a dive with good food. As I’m sitting there finishing up with a piece of Apple pie, Rob Decker, an old friend of me and Will come up to me. He’s a local who owns a few small businesses, most inherited from his father. 

“Will! How are you man? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” He grabs my hand and shakes it hard. 

“Rob, good to see you! Dad asked me to check on the cabin and I needed a break from LA. I’m heading back to tomorrow.”

“Dude, got your gear?”

“Of course, was going to try the old creek before heading home.”

“I’ll join you, heck, even Tommy will go.  He’ll be thrilled to see you. He was talking about your videos on Facebook.”

“Sound great Rob, stop by tomorrow morning whenever.”

Back at the cabin, I start a campfire and relax. Once it’s burning good, I grab Willy’s clothes and toss it all in. I have an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and freedom now. I have a few beers and watch the fire slowly burn out. Sunday morning Rob and Tommy show up at 6am. They don’t even mention my brother Willy even though we were all friends growing up. We have a blast and they want to come to the big city and party with me soon.

I fly back late Sunday afternoon and clean up my condo – unmounting the chair, smoothing over the holes in my carpet, cleaning the bathroom and tossing out the rest of Willy’s clothes. I call Lisa and invite her to my place tomorrow night for dinner and love making.

Monday morning I’m in full Will Witt mode. I wake up and take my run, shower and fuss with my hair for 20 minutes. In keeping with Dennis’ wishes, I up my conservative appearance to match my new haircut. My new bespoke Saville Row suit anchors my identity as the only Will Witt. It’s teamed with my favorite blue Brooks Brothers shirt with white contrasting cuffs and collars.  I pair it with my new shoes and favorite tie I’ve worn a few times.  Joel loves my new attitude and appearance. At lunch, I pull a typical Will move – I escape to a nearby restaurant, hang out and work on my schedule as is habit. 

Life is great now. I have tons of friends and fans. Prager U is very lucrative and I’m in demand across the US and world for speaking appearances. No one suspects I’m not Will. I love the notoriety and acceptance. I even love my preppy wardrobe and new style. It’s grown on me and I’ll maintain it.