#they were passing around a huge fucking sharpie for people to x out their hands lol

[blueheartedwolf]

The hardcore kids in this town are so fucking funny. Of course you’re edge, you’re fucking 16 yrs old lmao.

[bigcat-hanson]

Long Way From Home [Part Five] | Arin Hanson X Reader

After almost 20 years, you finally find the childhood friend that you were forced to give up, but would reconnecting now be a good thing?

Word count: 1339

TW: mentions of blood/wounds

Your head hurt, your heart hurt, the palms of your hands stung and were covered in gravel and blood. Your wet clothes allowed the cold night air to bite. You couldn’t believe the seemingly never ending lies that your parents had told you, the rest of your family, Arin… 

What could you even believe anymore? Your life started feeling more and more like a sad cosmic joke.

“(Y/N), wait! (Y/N), I-...” Arin’s voice carried across the parking lot. He sounded frantic, almost like he was panicking. His footsteps started fast, but quickly slowed to a more hurried walk. By the time he was in front of you, they were slow and careful. You didn’t want to look at him anymore. Somehow, the gentle hand that he placed on your back made you cry harder. He could barely make out your words through the sobbing.

“I’m so sorry, Arin. I never wanted this. I never wanted to move away, I never wanted to leave you behind. They gave me no choice. They lied to you, they lied to both of us. I don’t know what’s real anymore, and I’m so sorry.” 

The hand on your back remained there for what felt like hours, the silence between you cutting deeper than the wounds on your hands. 

“You’re bleeding…”

“I’m blee-... fuck…” You finally took a good look at how bad your hands really were. Your palms were almost completely red, aside from the black spots of gravel that remained stuck in some places.

“There’s probably a first aid kit on the bus,” he offered. He sounded so nervous. He had been so excited and bubbly practically the whole day before this. It was almost unsettling. You nodded and wiped your eyes on your upper arm, allowing him to help you stand. The two of you made your way across the parking lot, your arms held out awkwardly to avoid bringing them into contact with anything.

It was a bit loud on the bus. Practically the whole group was chatting loudly about the night’s event, as well as the plans for their next destination. Someone was playing music from their phone and singing along. You stood awkwardly behind Arin as you entered, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

“Hey Vernon, pass me that first aid kit,” he cut in, gesturing to the small white box on a wall towards the back. The man you could only assume was Vernon removed the box from the wall and tossed it to Arin. “Great, thanks. I’m gonna be out for awhile. I’ll be back before we head out.”

“Two hours, homie!” you heard Dan yell from somewhere in the back that you couldn’t see. Arin gave a silent wave to the crowd of people on the bus before gesturing for you to step out. Unsure of whether you were ready to face your coworkers yet after your odd exit, you decided that going back to your jeep was the best course of action.

Despite the fact that they were covered in blood, your fingers were unscathed enough to press the unlock button and pop the trunk open. The two of you sat yourselves in the empty space of the trunk, making sure to face each other so it was easier to fix your hands. 

“Son of a motherfuck-!” Your teeth clenched together as the water poured over your hands, taking some of the blood and gravel with it as it flowed onto the ground. “God, that’s so much worse than I thought it was,” you admitted, forcing yourself to laugh. Several small, deep cuts littered your palms. 

“I’m gonna have to put pressure on this,” he pointed out. You nodded, confirming you were ready, and for him to get it over with. The thick pads of gauze pressed into your left hand, sandwiched between yours and Arin’s. His free hand brought the wrapping around your wrist and winding around the rest of your hand. The burning pain continued as he wrapped the other one. 

“What a fun night.” Arin glanced up at you, seeming to smile a bit at your sad attempt at a joke. When the last of the bandages were properly fastened, you flexed your fingers to test their limits. It wasn’t very much. “Do you want to talk about this? Or would you rather we just go our separate ways and pretend like none of this happened?”

“I mean, considering I basically chased you out here, I’d say it’s safe to assume I want to know what the hell’s going on.”

“You and me both,” you scoffed, shaking your head. 

“I really thought you were dead or something, and now I’m sitting in your car with you after you worked one of my events, like… what the fuck is- what happened to you?”

“God, where do I even begin…”

Exact details were difficult to remember. You tried to give him the bullet points, telling him how your parents sent you to your aunt’s, how you were never allowed to contact anyone but your aunt and those in your new school after you arrived, your aunt’s resentment towards you, her sudden death while you were away at college… the most difficult part to piece together was the truth about what your parents had done, and why they had done it.

You tracked the emotions that passed over Arin’s face while you rambled on about your life story. The confusion, the sympathy, the anger… none of this would’ve happened had your parents just waited three years for you to move out.

“They lied to everybody and cut you off from everyone that gave a shit about you just so they could live out their bullshit dreams of living without kids in fucking Europe? That’s actually fucking disgusting. They had a funeral for you. I grieved your fucking death. That’s a huge part of why I moved here a while after that. I couldn’t be there anymore because of what happened. I-...”

“They had a funeral?” 

The look on his face was painful to see. His expression seemed somewhat far-off, as if he was reliving those moments in his head.

“It was probably one of the worst days of my life,” he admitted. Tears started to well up in his eyes. Both of you were snapped out of your confusion and sorrow by the sudden buzzing coming from Arin’s pocket. You could hear the words ‘fucking kidding me’ muttered under his breath as he read the text. “There’s bad traffic. We have to leave early so we can make it to our next show on time.”

“Where is it?”

“Albuquerque. It’s tomorrow night, but we have a lot of prep and shit to do during the day.”

“I can be there,” you blurted out. The words were out before you had the chance to think about what you were saying. “Nope, nevermind. That’s fucking weird. Shouldn’t have said that, that’s-”

“It’s a seven hour drive, I can’t let you do that. You just worked over twelve hours.”

“Wait… you’re not like, weirded out that I said that?”

“I’m kind of weirded out by a lot right now, but getting more time with you is the best thing I can imagine right now.”

“Ok, um… maybe I can find a flight? It’s pretty last minute, I don’t know if I’d be able to get there-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you a flight and pay for the ticket. You worry about packing what you need to bring. Actually, shit, we have a day between tomorrow’s show and the one after that. If you have the next two days off we could… here, I’ll give you my number so we can talk more about this. I have to get back to the bus, but I really want to see you in Albuquerque tomorrow.” His last few sentences were rushed as he wrote his number on a strip of gauze with a sharpie he had in his pocket. “I’m glad you’re alive, (Y/N).”

[alitaimagines]

request: “so I’ve read all of your pregnancy scenarios and I was wondering if you have enough 2p! italy. I’m a whore for mafia luci and I wanted one where she runs away and he looks for her and after a year, he finds her with the baby and he decides to win her back? fluff ending tho, thanks!” 

luciano vargas (2p! Italy) x fem! reader

fandom: hetalia (Requests open)

You weren’t supposed to be wrangled into the mafia life. It wasn’t your intention at all but you had met Luciano by accident. You were out shopping for stuff that you needed for your house and met your soon boyfriend.

Luci was charismatic, funny, stoic yet approachable. You were also someone he didn’t want to let go just yet. Considering what he did for a living and how well he did it, Luci was hardly around people so innocent. He was able to tell that you weren’t exactly in tune with your surrounding and he was going to use that. 

“Amore, what do you say about dinner tonight?” Luci said as he kissed your hand. “I’ll have the best of my men prepare us dinner tonight. Say what you’ll want and I’ll have it done.” 

Luci noticed that you hesitated but a smile appeared on your face, “Sure, I’ll give you my number and text me for a time.” You whipped out a sharpie from your purse and wrote down your number on his arm. You finished the signature with a heart which made Luciano’s heart flutter. 

//

After a few more dates, you started putting bits and pieces together. Luciano hardly took you out on dates in the public and if he did, he’d do it with multiple people around the two of you. You didn’t want to believe that Luciano ran the fucking mafia but it would be ridiculous of you to turn a blind eye to it. 

You were getting a lot of expensive things in the mail and things that the normal commoner wasn’t able to afford. Depending on the dates, Luciano would have his brother, Flavio, make you something cute and sexy for a date. You would blush at how revealing some of the dresses were but you complied and wore them. 

Finally after the thought would not leave your head, you finally decided it was time to ask him. 

You had a date with Luciano at his house. It was planned for really late in the evening and while you didn’t mind it, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be staying up until a random hour in the night. 

You put on one of Luciano’s favorite dresses. It was a deep red dress with a slit down the middle. You paired it with black heels and dark makeup. You knew with the conversation that you were planning to have, you knew it wouldn’t be exactly right to have bright colors on. 

One of Luciano’s men drove you to his house. You were beyond the point of getting blind folded and even struck up a friendship with one of Luciano’s right hand man. He was a german boy with an accent that made it very hard to comprehend what he said at times. 

Once you got to the Vargas household, you were escorted to higher level in the house. It was the same details although this time, he was holding the date in a different room. The view outside was beautiful and you were immediately mesmerized by the sight. 

“Bella, is something wrong?” Luciano asked as he held your hand. “I could see that you hardly have touched your food.” 

You sighed, “Luciano, I really like you but I have a question. I hope it isn’t disrespectful nor rude but do you run the fucking Italian mafia? I have theories that you may considering all of the measurements you have to do to keep yourself safe in the public. This doesn’t change anything but I just can’t get the stupid thought out of my head.” 

He belted out a laugh as he stood you up, “It is something that needs to be brought, no?” 

Luciano walked you down a few flight of stairs, being a gentleman that he was, he gave you his shoes once he realized that you were getting tired. You got to the basement and noticed multiple men dressed in black suits doing various things. 

“If you’re going to be mine, you should know what I do.” And with that, he told you about EVERYTHING. How you ran the biggest mafia in Italy, what he exactly did, and now that the two of you were serious, you had a lot of secrets to hide. 

From that point on, he would take you to meetings, dates in other countries, all of that. Luciano didn’t mind having you sit down on his lap during meetings, basically as a show to other men and what they were missing out on. You found it a bit embarrassing but it did amuse you at times 

The sex was banging. He showed you sex that your ex’s wish they could have shown you. Every time it was different and it usually ended with you passed out asleep as Luciano had a cigar hanging loosely from his lips. 

One night, the two of you were celebrating a huge deal that Luciano had closed. He was over the moon excited and he ran immediately to you. The night was filled with passionate love-making and sweet nothings. It was one of the best nights of your life and Luciano was able to say the same. 

A month had passed and you were sitting on your bed as tears prickled your eyes. The pregnancy test read positive and you knew your pregnancy gut feeling was right. You did love Luciano, you really did, but you didn’t know if you wanted to raise your child in a household filled with mafia members. 

You had spoken to a wife of a mafia member and asked for her help. She told you that when she was pregnant with her first child, she left her husband for a year to raise the baby. The first year was crucial to an infant and considering the lifestyle the two of you were in, you should leave for a year. 

You followed the advice and ran away. You left a note explaining everything to Luciano along with the pregnancy test and left. The first night after not sleeping with Luciano was the hardest. 

//

You woke up to your twins crying from hunger. You kissed both of their heads and trudged down the stairs with them as you had already pre-made their milks. The house you were living in was complete shit compared to how you were living with Luciano but you knew the lifestyle didn’t fit the life you wanted for your babies. 

“I need to get food.  We’re almost out of vegetables!” You said as you strapped on the double-sided baby carriers. You plopped your son on the front and your daughter on the back. “We need to make the trip quick, it looks like it may rain.” 

You ran to the store around the corner and seen the familiar store manager. She waved you a good morning as you grabbed the shopping cart. For a while, you were doing your usual routine, grabbing fruits and veggies before you heard a squeal from the manager. 

You snuck around the corner and seen very familiar faces. The town knew what the mafia could do and everyone in the store as well as outside had petrified looks. 

“We mean no trouble but have you seen this woman?” Luciano’s silky voice said as he whipped out a photo of you. The manager shook her head no but you knew if you continued to hide, they’d tear down the entire store looking for you. 

You gave a big sigh before revealing yourself, “Vargas, did you really need to bring all of them?” 

Luciano ran to you and immediately kissed you. The store manager sighed in relief and slowly got back to what she was doing. Luciano immediately noticed the babies on your body and knew they were his. They both had the familiar curl and darkened colored hair. 

“Follow me.” You stated as you put the basket on the belt. As you were about to take out your card, Luciano being the clown he was, took out the wad of cash and gave the clerk more than enough money. 

As you walked out of the small store, Luciano snapped his fingers and his men grabbed the bags from your hands. By the time you made it back to your tiny apartment, your babies had fallen asleep. 

You silently laid Luciano and Laura in their respective cribs before heading back to Luciano. He was scanning the photos on the furniture. Most of them were of you and the kids but the one that struck him was the photo of you and him. He couldn’t remember when the photo was taken but he was holding you by the waist and kissing the top of your forehead as you were smiling. 

“How did you find me?” You said quietly as you shoved a small cup of coffee to him. “I never gave anyone my address.” 

Luciano laughed, “Mi amore, I know more than you think but why? Why did you leave me?” 

“Luci, you really think that our children should be raised that way?” You asked as tears threatened to escape. “Our babies deserve be surrounded by love. Not by guns and men who could snap at any moment.” 

Luciano ran a hang through his hair, “Amore, they’re my children too. I deserve to see them just as you get too.” 

Luciano had a point. You went to sit down but before he could, he pulled you down on his lap. He started to kiss down your neck knowing this always made you weak. You quietly moaned but before he could do anything else, you pushed away. 

“Luci, no. We need to talk about this.” Luciano nodded as he tightened his grip on your waist. “What if we build another house. Next door to ours and it’s strictly for our little ones. No men, just you and I. How does that sound? We could even put up a private fence.” 

You knew you were going to cave because it didn’t sound like a bad deal. You thought about it some more and as you were going answer, Luciano started to kiss your neck. 

“The babies, they’re going to wake soon and they’re going to be hungry.” You said as you jumped out of his lap and went to make them milk. Luciano wrapped his arms around your waist as he seen you pour the powder. “What are their names?” 

You smiled, “Our son, the first born, is named Luciano. Our daughter, born five minutes after, is named Laura. They’re going to be three months soon.” 

You were able to tell that Luciano was getting teary eyed on the thought that you named his son after him. Hearing the cry of your daughter, Luciano darted to the second room and seen the fragile baby crying. He picked her up, making sure the neck was stable enough, and shushed her as you got into the room. 

You gave Luciano the milk as you grabbed your son before he could start crying. Luciano looked at the three of you and smiled internally. He might have not had the ideal job for someone like you but he loved you. He was never going to let you go and now knowing that you had gave birth to his children, he was more than sure he would never let you leave again. 

“We can move your things back to our house tomorrow and get a contractor to start building us a new house as well.” Luciano stated as he carefully bent down to give you a kiss. You nodded and leaned into him as you felt your own eyes drifting off to sleep. 

-ALITA

[melyaliz]

Scribbles

Fandom: Marvel / X-men Movies 

Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever they write on their skin goes on their soulmates and person A keeps drawing dicks because they think it’s funny that they will show up on person B.  and person B having to constantly cover them up and like “who the FUCK is this asshole!”

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x OC 

Notes: First off yes, I know I have a few requests and this isn’t one of them but… I was inspired (Like 8 pages inspired) 

Gemma is my new oc that I am working on at the moment I’ll probably post her character sheet soon plus MAYBE finish her full story. 

Anyway, she grew up in a pretty christen household (thinking she may be a pastor's daughter) And I totally HC that Peter is TOTALLY the kind of guy who would draw on himself. 

So the image of like Gemma having to go to church with a HUGE dick on her arm and has to wear a sweater in summer and stuff was just too funny to pass up on. 

I honestly didn’t know how to end this so I just kind of did?

Promise requests will be coming soon :D 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

———--------------------------------------------------

Peter had already been suspended from writing on textbooks and his desk and with his notebook confiscated there was nothing left but his arm. 

 Freedom of expression man.

Plus the monster eating the freckle on his left arm was tiring out really good. 

“Mr. Maximoff, do you have anything of value to add to our discussion today?” 

“Huh?”

“That’s what I thought.” 

Peter frowned his brown eyes scanning the board for a moment taking in the information before glancing over at Karen’s notes. Pride and prejudice was as boring as it sounded. Wasn’t that kind of a chick book anyway?

“Yeah, I’m good” Peter added putting his hands behind his back as his teacher his arm and art clearly visible for the teacher to see just to prove his defiance to this book. 

However, the teacher didn’t react and just went back to the front of the class.

Confused Peter looked at his arm. 

It was blank. 

-*-

“Gemma what did you do to your arm!?!” 

Gemma glanced down at her arm, the sleeve of her rolled up Catholic school uniform visibly showed the dark drawings of monsters eating helpless woman. “Uhhh I…”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go to that Iron Maiden concert,” her mother and school’s math teacher said grabbing her daughter pulling her toward the bathroom. “Your body is a temple” 

“Mom I promise? I have no idea how I got this!” 

Her mother paused for a moment looking down at her daughter’s arm, the permanent dark images now bleeding down her pale skin making them look even more grotesque. 

“I wonder…” 

“What Mom?” 

“So you didn’t draw on yourself?”

“I mean I have before but this isn’t me I’m not this good. Honest, I know it sounds crazy but it just showed up after science. Bobby was laughing about it and I was so confused.” Gemma adding a little More soap to her arm blowing away a few strands of her white-blonde hair out of her face, “besides I’m not stupid enough to draw demons on my arm at a Catholic school”

“It could be your soulmate” 

“Huh?” Gemma turned to her mom who was now rummaging in her bag for something. Once she found it she pulled out her pen handing it to her daughter.

“Write something”

“What happened to my body is a temple?” 

“Too late now” her mother laughed motioning to the melting monsters. “Go ahead”

“What should I draw?” Nerves bubbling up inside her. Weird how nervous you can suddenly get. 

“Anything you want.” 

Growing Gemma placed the pen to her skin pausing for a moment trying to think about what to draw. 

HELLO 

-*-

Bold block letters running down the length of his arm stopping at his wrist. Peter had already gotten a detention slip for mouthing off to his teacher and was now tapping his pencil on his desk as he sat there. Board out of his mind… until now. 

Curious he glanced down at his arm looking over the words now scrolled boldly over his arm. 

Interesting. 

“Maximoff are we going to have a problem?” 

“Nope” came the distracted respond as Peter slowly drew a question mark behind the Hello.

-*-

?

A simple question mark drew itself next to one of the monsters making him look more inquisitive than scary. Gemma bit her lip trying not to laugh during her English class. 

Poor little guy, he was more confused that she was. Probably wondering why she had tried to erase him from her arm. 

-*-

 Could you not use a permanent marker? These monsters will never come off. 

Neat full circles looped across the top of his arm before one of his monsters came back to him in bright pink sharpie. Obviously traced. 

Oh, it’s on. 

Pulling out his VERY permanent maker Peter started to draw. 

-*-

“Shit” Gemma hissed as the huge dick and balls appeared on her hand. The shaft stretching from her hand down to her wrist. 

“Miss Gemma? Is there something you would like to say to the class?” 

Quickly she hid her hand under her desk “nope.” 

“What are you hiding?” 

“Nothing sister”

“Then pull up your hands” as Gemma slowly planted her hands on the desk the nun gasped “GEMMA!” 

“It’s not me!”

“Who else would do that? And when because I don’t remember seeing any phallic images on you before” 

“I…” 

“Detention” 

Tossing her books and supplies into her backpack Gemma stood up walking off to detention, Sister Maryann stopped her handing her a bar of soap. Gemma looked down at it wondering where in the hell she had even been hiding that. Although Sister Maryann was known for washing kids mouths out with soap when they “took the Lord's name in vain” so maybe this was the mouth soap. 

-*-

Actual size Bold thick and large lettering hung over a small dick laying limp on the same hand he had drawn his own gorgeous penis drawing. 

Which of course, appeared right as he was flirting with Suzie, the cutest girl in school. 

“You have something on your hand…” the pretty brunette said nodding toward Peter’s hand which was holding her own as he “explained” the best way to use a joystick on the newest arcade game that had been put in across the street from their high school.   

“Are you kidding me!?!” Peter said pulling his hand quickly away, “Freak used permanent marker too”  

“What did it say?” Suzie giggled trying to get a look at his hand as her jock boyfriend walked up throwing an arm over her. 

“What up Petey?” 

“His hand just got this weird mark on it.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yep, got to go, see you both later fellow classmates,” Peter said saluting before dashing off probably a little faster than he should have. 

“This asshole” he hissed as he quickly ran his hand under the water trying to rub it off face slightly flushed with embarrassment over having the girl of his dreams see it. And they had been getting along so well too!

Oh it was on now. 

-*-

“This asshole” Gemma laughed as she scrubbed her arm with the hard bar of soap. Leave it to Sister Maryann to have the magic cure for something that shouldn’t be cured. While her hand was now rubbed raw from scrubbing, the large dick was no longer scrolled across her hand and the monsters were all but faded away. 

Letting out a triumphant laugh she looked into the mirror a huge smile on her face. 

Which faded into shock as her reflection looked back at her. 

Her face with a huge twisted mustache drawn across her upper lip. 

“SON OF A BITCH!” 

Soulmate my ass. This person was the devil incarnate. 

-*-

Nothing. 

Peter checked everywhere, even stripping down to make sure there wasn’t anything written on… his precious bits. 

But no. Nothing came up.

Guess he had won. 

Something he through of proudly as he continued to doodle across his arms and legs. He never wrote on his face again and kept things mostly contained.

Although he would draw the occasional risque image in a fun place just to see if he would get a reaction. 

Not that he cared.

Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t like the thought of having someone out there that he could always talk to, was always there no matter what was something he wanted. 

Nope, not at all. 

Although when the cuts and bruises started to form he got a little worried. They got worse as time went on. Large hand size bruises and burns running all over his body. It was as if whoever that was on the other side was part of some fight club or something. 

During that time was the only time he truly addressed them.

Are you ok?��

-*-

Gemma rubbed her arm nervously as she walked through Xavier's school for gifted children. Led by the man himself it, Charles Xavier. 

She didn’t belong here, among the heroes. After being brainwashed to become nothing more than a weapon in some twisted man’s army Gemma felt like the silly catholic school girl who had a closeted love for Heavy Metal music was like a stranger to her. In her place was this strange woman now walking through a fog of uncertainty. 

The words Are you ok had almost faded from her arm but she had refused to wash it away. It had been a reminder that morning that something may have been wrong. That maybe those strange dreams she was having and those wounds she was waking up with were maybe not just nothing. 

That small warning that had been the tipping point. An almost literal wakeup call that had ended with her coming to this place filled with other mutants. People who had helped set her free from her prison. Break free from the mind control she had been under.

And faced with the reality of what she had unknowingly done under that man’s control she had no idea where to go from there. 

Where did she belong?  

-*-

It was faint but Peter saw it as she pointed toward the library asking Charles a question. Faded little gray letters, rushed and fast, scribbled across her underarm. 

He didn’t need to know what they said, he already knew. 

-*-

Turn  Around

Gemma blinked in confusion as the bold messy words flashed onto her hand. 

What? 

How?

Turning she saw him, the speedster, Peter, standing a few feet behind her, a permanent marker in his hand with a huge smile on his face.

“Hello.” 

Shock. 

It washed over her like cold water.

For years she had wondered who that total ass was who had continued to plague her body with drawings. Her once perfect record marred with endless visits to the principle and detention. Gemma had always been a fly under the radar kind of girl, just be middle of the road and go unseen. Yet all those colorful drawings and even more colorful words had made her stand out in ways she had never dreamed of. 

Who was that person? Why were they doing this? How come they didn’t seem to care? After all, it was clear there was someone else was getting marred by those drawings.

A million questions flew through her mind and even more memories. 

Yet nothing seemed to come out.

“Bet you never thought you would be this lucky,” Peter said running his fingers through his silver hair. “I mean you basically hit the jackpot of soulmates.” 

“You…” her hands flickered with energy, emotions building up inside her spilling out, “total ASS!” 

Peter went flying across the hallway as she shot him, not enough to hurt him just kind of give him a taste of what he had been doing to her for the past 8ish years. 

“Could you two maybe…. I guess not” Charles groaned as Gemma’s second blast missed a much wiser Peter, blowing up a beautiful 16th-century vase.

“It took me a WEEK to wash off that stupid dick you drew across my chest! And that during prom weekend” 

Peter was laughing as he grabbed Gemma taking her outside where they could hash this out somewhere safe. 

“So what kind of dress did you wear to prom?” Peter asked looking her over trying to picture it, a cute little red (or maybe blue to match her eyes) dress with a big of black dick drawn up her chest the tip peeking out of the collar.

“A cardigan thanks to you.”

“Awww what’s the fun in that?” 

“I went to a Catholic school.” 

Peter stood there for a moment the image of her in a little catholic uniform covered in his demon and phallic drawings was just…

Perfect.

“Jesus Christ you didn’t!?!” he doubled over laughing as she watched him trying to fight back a smile. Honestly, after everything she had been through the memories of her trying to scrub off little devils and titties off her arms and legs felt almost… 

Comforting. 

As annoying as they were, those drawings had kind of been comforting. They set her apart, let her know (as weird as he was) there was someone out there that was all her’s. Yes the dicks and the tits were annoying but there were also some pretty cool song lyrics that had helped her to discover music she hadn’t heard before. 

He was like her annoying little secret that broke out away from the everydayness of her very normal life.  

Plus she had to admit, it was a pretty funny image looking back. 

Not that she would EVER admit any of this to him. At least not right now. 

“You owe me big.” 

“Oh, Gemma I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling your idea of making it up to me is going to be different than what mean?” 

“Maybe being soulmates always means you can read my mind?” he said leaning forward wagging his eyebrows. Gemma couldn’t help but laugh up at him as he took a step back holding out his hand.

“Friends?” 

“Friends.” 

As she took his hand Gemma had a feeling that much like the first time those little monsters appeared on her arms, her life was going to be filled with many more surprises. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​​ @coffee-randomness​​​ @daisyboobear​​​ @nilthanious​​  @jason-redhood​​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr​ @ocelysium​ @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep

[breadcaaat]

part one

Jeongguk x hybrid!reader

| part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: violence & gore, human trafficking, bad language, abandoned ramen??

There are few things more liberating than running from your empty, dingy little studio apartment to eat ramen at midnight post break-up. Something about it makes the noodles taste better.

The little shop was quiet this late at night, the sort of modern Gothic quiet that made Jeongguk wanna drink wine and brood at ominous-looking treelines. Not that he likes wine or is particularly good at being handsome while brooding - it's just a concept. There's plenty of room for concepts this late at night. Daydreams and stuff. Night dreams? No, that'd just be a dream. I'm not asleep, so how does that work? Is there a word for daydreams at night?

He's got his nose buried in his phone when two salarymen - off late - slip into the little store and sit down. Google says there is no word for a daydream at night. Lame.

The waiter sets a few bowls of food in front of him and he thanks the old man quietly, setting his phone down and clicking his chopsticks together. What if humans had straight fingers? Like, just five chopsticks a hand.

Two more guests enter. They sit with the two salarymen, and he takes that first hot mouthful of noodles. Wait - if they were fingers they'd be made out of skin, right? So, like, skin sticks.

That's basically like having tiny, hard dicks for hands. Or no-knuckled fingers.

...Gross.

He takes a break from eating (momentary loss of appetite) and takes notice of the table for four.

It's an interesting group - individually, they were mundane as a cup of black coffee - but together they were unlikely. The salarymen seemed poorer now he was looking at them better. Greasy hair, bumpy skin, untailored blazers, slightly off-shade ties. One had a goatee and the other a mustache, neither really solid. Pubescent, kind of, like... like ironed pubes... I'm never growing a beard. Across from them sat a dude with bleached hair and heavy jewelry. He had a yellow smirk on his face that gave Jeongguk the feeling that he hadn't earned those shiny chains without a bit of underhandedness.

The last guest was covered head to toe in baggy clothing. He couldn't see their face, their fingers, anything. They kept their eyes down and their hands to themself.

Mustache - he looked a bit more intelligent than Goatee - smiled at the old waiter as he served them some drinks, and then pulled out a cigarette and held it to him. The old man looked puzzled, to say the least. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?" Mustache prompted, holding it a little closer. "You should take a smoke break. We'll be fine here." He smiled, and Jeongguk noticed his tongue was yellow with nicotine.

The old man's shoulder's stiffened, but he took it without a word and - after shuttering close all the blinds in the room - exited out the back. It took Jeongguk no more than a hot second to realize he should probably do the same.

He started to quietly gather his few possessions, and was about to get up to go for the door when he realized something rather inconvenient; the door was on that group's side of the restaurant. He'd have to pass them to get out. Where he was - at a booth tucked away on the other side of the restaurant, behind the serving counter in their perspective - they hadn't seemed to notice him yet.

He slid back into the booth and held his breath.

Mustache sat back, sighed, tugging at his labels a little. Goatee was putting off some serious I-hate-the-man-I’m-looking-at vibes, and the man he was looking at, Bleach, was receiving them with a smug sort of glee. Jesus, his teeth were yellow.

“Needs some whitening strips or somethin’,” he mused under his breath, and that’s when he got a look at the last one in the group.

At his whisper, she - they were a she - peeked at him from behind her hood with grey-hazel eyes. Like, completely. The color of her iris totally spanned across where the whites of her eyes should have been, and the pupils were huge in the shadow of her hood. They both froze as their eyes met.

What fresh hell?

The hair behind his neck prickled and gooseflesh rippled across his skin. He realized then that this group was more than just a dysfunctional business get-together - this was something completely out of his depth and something he needed to get away from now.

I have ramen at home, he thought, and with that shifted to the end of his booth to break for it, ramen abandoned.

He stopped though, as Mustache stood up and walked around the table until he was stood next to the girl with grey eyes, saying: “Stand up.”

She did, without a noise. Wordlessly, Mustache reached up and flipped her hood off. Her hair had the kitchen-scissors treatment and was matted in places, hanging loose. She was wearing a wide headband, too - this he took off without any permission to touch her, and she didn’t react.

Underneath the band, two ears flicked up - like, legitimate fucking cat ears. Thick, furry, rounded a little and black with a white spot on the back the size of a thumbprint. She bore Mustache’s probing with a dangerously quiet, docile attitude. He took a thin flashlight and checked the insides of her ears, lightly touched the tips to see if they’d flick. “She’s dirty,” he muttered, and Bleach pulled out his phone to play a mobile game. “Nothing a q-tip can’t clean,” he replied. Goatee growled a small warning.

He shined the flashlight in each of her pupils and she flinched, sensitive to light. He seemed satisfied with the reaction, however, and tipped her head up to check inside her nostrils, then pulled her jaw down to check her mouth. “Say ‘ah,’” he said, and she complied, and he shoved a finger in to prod at her teeth. They had some sort of fanged, metal retainer on them; he popped these out for a second and then popped them back in after checking her real teeth. He moved down then and unzipped her hoodie to reveal nothing underneath - Jeongguk flinched and glanced away, then glanced back.

This is a slave trade, he noted mutedly as the examination continued. I’m witnessing a real-life slave trade. Mustache did a couple more things after that - had her jump (holy shit she could jump - her fingers tapped the ceiling,) tested her arm strength and looked at her hands, checked down the back of her pants and reached in to touch something (ew,) probed at her feet and ankles and knees. She bore it all with the patience of a saint. His final move to was to tug at a thick collar on her neck - a pinkie-nail thick band of leather about half a thumb wide.

When he was done - the whole process took about three minutes - he took a step back and just looked at her. Bleach’s eyes flicked up from his game, audio still playing, and scrutinized Mustache with red-rimmed eyes.

There was silence.

Bleach heaved a sigh then and clicked his phone off. “Shit - you buying? I got a kitty at home in bed and I’m fucking tired.” Kitty?

“How much?” Mustache asked.

“Seven million won, in cash.”

“That’s double than what you offered the first time!” Goatee finally speaks, and it’s with barely contained anger. He looks like he’s holding in the fart of a lifetime.

“Tigers cost more than dogs.” Bleach shrugged.

“Aish,” Mustache muttered, and stood and looked at her again. A tense moment passed, and both Bleach and Goatee got progressively broodier. Neither of them had attractive brooding expressions.

With a stretch and a scratch at his chin, Mustache heaved a sigh, picked up a filled purse from beside his chair, and said - "Half now, half by Thursday."

"Deal. Stripes, c'mere." She padded closer to him - that must've been her name - as he took the purse. He then pulled something out of his jacket pocket - it looked like a TV remote but only had two buttons and some print in silver sharpie at the bottom. He handed it to Stripes.

Mustache and Goatee both visibly flinched, and as the remote passed hands Mustache started to protest but Bleach interrupted him by loudly sucking a hiss through his teeth.

"Jungsu-shi," he started, more patronizing than anything else. "Can't give it straight to you or you'll kill me and take your money back, yeah? So just wait until I'm outta here and then she'll give it to you. No problem." This very much seemed to be a problem with Mustache (Jungsu-shi?) and Goatee - now they both looked like they were holding in massive farts from fear and anger, respectively, sweat misting at the temples and red in the face.

The door chimes jingled as Bleach left the restaurant.

Jeongguk was holding his breath and it seemed like everyone else was too. Stripes stared down at the remote, eyes unmoving. A minute passed. Two.

"He's gone now, so give it to me," Mustache said. There was a barely contained waver in his voice.

Stripes looked up from the remote but did not hand it to him. Jeongguk could read a lot of things in those alien eyes. Indecisiveness. Defiance. Calculation.

It was in that moment that Goatee's anger-fart burst forth with all the gusto of a night after Mexican, and as he stood up with a yell commanding obedience and force enough to send his chair screeching and Jeongguk startling in his seat, he read in those grey-hazel eyes something else: anger. Pure, unadulterated anger fueled by bitter blood and killer canines. Which she bared then, sharp grey metal to match her eyes.

When Jeongguk was a kid, he did about nine years of tae kwon do. He took part in a handful of tournaments, too, and one fist fight in middle school. God knows how many action movies he's watched. Fight scenes are cinematic. People get hit and they get back up despite blows to the head and broken bones because they're passionate characters - or whatever. Grunts go down after a punch from the protagonist. People like fight scenes because they're full of energy, not malice. Even the fight scenes that try to be realistic - there's always something held back, always something inaccurate. The fight scene he witnesses is over before he processes it's a fight scene.

He's pretty sure Goatee makes the first move, but Stripes reacts so fast that it looks like they both launch at each other in sync. She tosses the remote away and they tumble down to the floor snarling, Stripes on top and mostly out of sight behind the serving counter. There's a struggle, some kicking, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, a growl, a gurgle. He stops kicking and she disappears behind the counter. A pool of blood rapidly crawls across the floor. The remote skids over to Jeongguk's feet and Mustache follows it.

They make some really awkward eye contact.

On impulse, Jeongguk grabs the remote and runs for the kitchen. Mustache yells some choice words and chases him.

Shit shit - they crash into the kitchen and he yanks a steel rolling table across his pursuers path, only to take a pot thrown to the head - fuck, ow! Shit! He stumbles, and it's just enough of a delay that Mustache vaults over the table gracelessly and stumbles in front of him, whipping out a butterfly knife. His panting was the loudest thing in the room.

"Listen kid - " he cuffed him over the ear because he looked too dizzy " - Hey, listen - if you don't give that to me right fucking now she's going to kill us both, hear? So fucking hand it over - !" He never finishes his sentence, cut off when a knife enters one ear and pokes out the other.

Jeongguk chokes out what might've been a sob.

Everything's slowed down now. He follows the hand at the knife's handle up to Stripes's face, which is covered in blood up to her eyes and down to her neck, dripping off her chin. Between her teeth, she's holding Goatee's throat, which she lets dribble out with a plop. She lets go of the handle. Mustache sags to the floor. Jeongguk thinks he's choking but he's not really sure; there's a buzzing in his ears.

She shifts so that she's crouching in front of him then, and he tosses the remote at her defeatedly. I'm going to die, he thinks, but she simply grabs it and then crawls towards the pot Mustache threw. Setting the remote on the ground, she takes the pot and smashes it. The effect is immediate.

Her hands fly up to her throat with an agonized cry and she sags to the ground, writhing in pain. Jeongguk's confused but still impulsive. He crawls over before he can think not to, just like before.

"What's - what's wrong?" She bats at him with a clawed hand distractedly and he dodges it " - Hey, I'm trying to help! Show me what's wrong!"

She does so, unintentionally - that same clawed hand joins the other at her throat, tearing and prying at the leather there. "Get it off," she chokes. "Get it off!"

"I will, I will!" How?

He could see the willpower it cost her to take her hands away, instead bunching the fabric of his hoodie in her fist. It was the first good look he got at the collar: thick, ungiving, brutal. And electric, apparently - off to the side there was a plastic box bolted firmly into the leather, with two prongs branching off of it and to the skin of her neck, like a dog's shock collar. He yanked on this, trying to pop it away. "Shit," he murmured when it didn't budge at all, "Okay, not gonna work - roll over - is there a latch? How do I get it off?" She rolled over and pointed at the remote before letting out another sob.

"But that's broken," he hissed, moreso to himself than her but it earned him a pinch to the side with a very sharp pair of fingers. She whimpered something about numbers, moving her hair to reveal where the collar was latched with a three-digit padlock.

...a remote that only had two buttons and some print in silver sharpie at the bottom...

Scrabbling for the remote, he looked at the broken shell and there he found it: 825. "Here!" he said, and then entered it and yanked out the padlock. The heavy leather sagged off her neck and onto the ground.

She rattled out a sigh of relief. Her sobbing quieted to soft whimpers, then to nothing.

Jeongguk must've sat there for a minute or two digesting both his ramen and the events of the night, when police sirens wailed - muffled by the shop front, down the street. Both heads swiveled in their direction.

He heard a pair of car doors thunk shut and turned to look at her with wide eyes, only the tiger girl wasn't there. All that was left to say she'd been there at all was a broken leather shackle and an open back door.

Also, a pair of corpses he'd rather not smell or look at anymore.

A/N: uhhh first fic?? I’m riding a wave of impulsiveness posting this right now. No fucking clue when the next one comes out but if ya’ll berate me the notifs will prompt me into finishing. I am incapable of motivation.

Tag List: (fuck it i’ll make one of these too) @feed-my-geek-soul thamks for beta reading 😘

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.1

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff 

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: after a million years, it’s finally here guys! my first jeon jungkook series :’)

“For homework this weekend, I want you all to sketch a self-portrait. It can be realistic or abstract, but just make sure it still represents you,” your professor says before dismissing class.

As you shove your sketchbook into your bag and pick up your guitar case, you hear one of your loud classmates, Kim Taehyung, talking with his friend who’s always so quiet in class that you don’t actually know what the fuck his name is. All you know is that he only ever wears oversized hoodies.

“Psst, Jungkook. Wanna draw my face for me?” Taehyung makes a flower pose with his handsome face.

“What’s in it for me?” Hoodie Boy throws his eraser at Taehyung to make him stop, perhaps out of secondhand embarrassment. You snicker silently to yourself as you pass by them to exit the room, but not before they mention something that triggers you.

“I’ll pay for your ticket tonight.”

“And tomorrow night, too, lol.” 

“Bitch, I’m not even going to tomorrow’s concert.”

“Then I guess you have time to draw your own face~”

“Wait, Jungkook. I’m busy tomorrow. Really. I have a date, remember?” Taehyung is basically pleading for his life at this point, and you can’t really blame him. Out of the entire class, he’s the only other non-art major besides you, so his drawing abilities are almost as shitty as yours. “And besides, we both know you could spend five minutes on the assignment and it’ll still look better than if I spent an hour on it.”

“Fine,” Hoodie Boy sighs. “I’ll take a ticket to tonight’s concert and a signed album instead. Thanks in advance.”

“Deal… I just don’t understand how you can be so whipped for an idol like Snow. She might have a nice body and a pretty face, but her personality is the worst. Even worse than Y/N’s,” Taehyung spins around to wave at you. “Right?”

“Ew, don’t compare me to her, Tae.” You give him an unimpressed face. The boy literally talks to everyone as if they’re his friend, and it kind of pisses you off.

“But you agree she has a shitty attitude, yeah?”

You notice Hoodie Boy is keeping a close ear out for your opinion on his supposed favorite idol. He accidentally makes eye contact with you for half a second before flailing around to gather his shit into his camo backpack. Were you really that intimidating to make those around you so flustered?

“Her shitty attitude isn’t the problem,” you hum as you walk away before they can bother you some more.

When you arrive home, you only have half an hour before you have to head out again. After tossing your bag and guitar case off to the side, you slip into slightly more fashionable clothes and break out your makeup bag. A quick layering of shadows, winged liner, and falsies paired with contouring and rose lip tint is enough for you to transform out of your barefaced college kid self. With a mask and your signature icy blue lens, you leave once more.

-

“You’re late, again,” your manager, Kim Seokjin, only sighs as you casually walk into backstage with a nonfat latte in hand. “I’m the one who’s going to be fired if you keep showing up late for soundcheck, Y/N.”

“It’s not my fault, Jin.” You pass your latte over to your cranky manager, who’s long overdue for another caffeine fix. He takes a sip, still glaring at you. “I was held up after class by two cute boys~”

“Cute boys? Y/N, you know you’re not supposed to be-”

“I know, I know. I’m just fucking with you,” you shrug. “All they did was ask me about Snow’s shitty personality. Oh, and apparently they’re coming to the concert tonight.”

“Don’t let them recognize you.” Seokjin finally hands you back your latte after chugging down half of it.

“I’m sure they would’ve said something months ago if they recognized me in class, Jin…” No one at school knows you’re an idol. As a matter of fact, no one in the world is aware that you, Y/N, are the idol with a cold piercing gaze and an even colder personality, Snow. No one except Seokjin, of course. He’s the only one you trust enough. “Besides, taking that art class has improved my makeup disguising skills, so don’t worry~”

“Well speaking of cute boys attending your concert, there are a few other idols that’ll be coming as well, so be careful.”

“Great, because all we need is another dumb dating rumor to get out of hand.” You’ve already experienced far too many of those in your short idol career. As an idol equally looked up to as you are frowned down upon, you’re pretty much at the center of every rumor or scandal. And it fucking sucks.

“Just try to stay positive about it, and don’t put yourself in a situation that the media can take advantage of, okay?” Seokjin has a worried look in his eyes—not for his own sake, but for yours. It’s his genuine tenderness and concern for you that keep you from walking away.

“Okay…”

The concert goes as usual. There are no technical difficulties, your vocals are on point, and nothing scandalous happens on stage. But at what cost?

Fan engagement is always kept at a minimum—the most fanservice you can offer is a split second of eye contact while you’re singing. You often wonder why anyone would want to see you perform live when there’s an invisible yet obvious wall standing between the stage and the audience. Like Seokjin advised, your company is doing what they can to ensure that their loose cannon idol stays out of any potential problematic situations.

But this distance doesn’t simply go away after your concerts. If it did, you wouldn’t be known as the Ice Queen, and your personal life wouldn’t be such a mystery to everyone. And for that, you cannot even put the full blame on the strict rules of your company. A large part of you appreciates the privacy that comes with this distance. Even if it is a little selfish and unfair to those who only wish to support you and your music.

As your concert comes to a close, you’re finally given the opportunity to address the dedicated fans who came out to see your performance.

“Thank you for coming tonight.” I’m sorry if it feels like you’ve wasted your money and time.

“A lot of you might be busy with school and studying right now, but you still made time for me.” I know because I too am a student.

“That means a lot, even to an Ice Queen.” I know what my reputation is, but please remember I’m human as well. I’m really grateful even if my resting bitch face doesn’t reflect that.

“Let’s meet again next time.” Next time, I’ll try to show a better version of Snow.

“Good night, everyone. Please get home safely~” I hope I was able to make you guys smile at least a little bit.

On your way out, you do your best to avoid both the media and the crowd. If you’re quick enough, you’ll be able to make it home in peace. Tonight is not that night, however.

You don’t even get outside of the venue before you see two familiar faces from class sitting on the stairs near one of the exits: Taehyung and Hoodie Boy. This is exactly why you never take off your makeup or lens until after you’re home where you don’t have to face anyone.

Of course it’s the loud one who approaches you. Hoodie Boy stays put on the stairs and watches from afar. You give them a halfhearted wave in hopes that that’s all they want, but of course it’s not.

“My friend is a huge fan of yours, Snow,” Taehyung lowkey pointed his thumb back at Hoodie Boy. He pulled out a copy of your latest album and a black sharpie. “Of course I love your music too, but would it be alright for me to get an autograph for him? He said he didn’t want to bother you himself.”

Usually you’d refuse. Whenever people say their “friend” is a fan, you get the impression that they’re just too ashamed to identify themselves as a fan of you. Like they don’t want to be associated with the kind of idol that you are.

But you’re certain that Taehyung is telling the truth since you heard that same promise being made earlier in class. And you know how shy Hoodie Boy is. So just this once, you’ll allow it.

You take the boy’s album and pen. “What’s your friend’s name?” You want to know, not only so you could write his name out, but also so you could stop calling him Hoodie Boy.

“Taehyung,” he says in a rather hushed voice.

“Taehyung?” That asshole. You glance over at Hoodie Boy just for a second. He’s busy taking pictures on his phone—not of you, but of the now empty venue. You feel bad, but there’s not much you can do besides sign the album to “Taehyung”. As you hand back the album, an idea pops up, “May I ask what your name is?”

“Me? Uhh-” You catch Taehyung off guard. “It’s Jungkook.” The name sounds familiar to you.

You nod and pull out a spare album from your bag to sign for Jungkook. You even decide to get a little fancy and draw a cute heart next to his name, just to spite Taehyung. “Here,” you say, looking back at the real Jungkook once more, only to find that yet another unwanted visitor had appeared. In moments like this, you question your decision to become an idol despite hating the attention.

Quickly you shoo away your classmates before the media shows up. You wouldn't want there to be another “misunderstanding”. The other boy now approaching you is already more than you’d prefer.

With his bleached ash blonde hair and an expensive yet casual fashion, you recognize him as fellow idol, Park Jimin, aka Korea’s Sweetheart. If you’re the devil, he’s most certainly an angel.

You’ve never spoken to the boy, but you’ve seen him at music shows plenty of times and have even competed against him for several awards. The two of you are “rivals”, or at least that’s how the media loves to phrase it. To you, there is no such rivalry; it’s clear that Jimin is the likable one. Your name is only ever placed next to his to generate newsworthy content.

“Is it really a good idea to visit your rival at her concert?” You don’t know how else to welcome the unwelcomed idol.

“It’s always good to scout out the competition,” Jimin shrugs, going along with your unfriendly greeting. “But for real, the concert was a lot of fun.” He glows with sparkles in his eyes. You can’t deny he has the most gorgeous smile.

“I’m glad…” It’s reassuring to hear compliments, especially from a fellow idol. But at the same time, you know Korea’s Sweetheart would never say anything rude—even if he feels differently. He’s perfect, after all.

“Anyway, I heard from the boy in the black hoodie that you’re handing out free autographs?” Jimin tries to point back at Jungkook, but he and Taehyung have already vanished. “I thought you were notorious for refusing autographs?” He pokes fun at you, but not in a way that annoys you like Taehyung had.

“They were bothering me and that was the easiest way to get them to leave,” you explain in half-truth. “Should I give you one too? It’d be better for you to leave before the media shows up.”

“Only if you have a stash of albums hiding in your bag.”

“I don’t.”

“Why did you happen to have one with you?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“I’m just curious. Idols don’t just carry around their own albums like that.”

“…My friend gave it to me,” you say after a moment of hesitation. That isn’t a lie, but a vague truth.

“Your friend gave it to you as a gift, and you just gave it away to a stranger?” Jimin chuckles, amused by you for whatever reason. “Living up to your reputation as Ice Queen, huh.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You hate when other people call you that, and you hate it even more when they aren’t wrong.

“I’m just kidding, Snow.” The way he smiles while speaking is so mesmerizing that you almost forgive him. “I know you did it with good intentions. And because of that, those two boys were able to leave here with a smile.”

“Good.” Your expression softens. “Anyway, did you need something or…?”

“I just wanted to say hi before heading home,” Jimin shook his head. “But let’s hangout some time, yeah?” He waves farewell and leaves before you can properly reject him.

On your way home, however, you take the time to consider the boy’s offer again. Truthfully, it would be a nice opportunity, especially since you don’t have any friends besides Seokjin. Plus, Jimin is pretty fucking attractive in your eyes.

But the conclusion you come to remains the same. There’s no way you can say yes.

By the time you finally return home, it’s late, you’re exhausted, but you still have that self-portrait to draw. In all honesty, you’re quite jealous of Taehyung who has a friend willing to do the work for him. If anything, Jungkook should draw your face, since you were the one who ultimately ensured that he got his signed album. But that’s just you being salty.

You pull out your sketchbook and pens and stare into the oval mirror that hangs from your bedroom wall. Your eye makeup is smudged, your dark circles are prominent through the fading concealer, and your eyes are as icy as ever. To finish your homework as soon as possible, you don’t overthink anything and just draw what you see. At this point you just want to get it over with so you can roll into bed and laze around.

“Finally~” you squeal about an hour later, plopping yourself onto your bed in your pink penguin pajamas. You’re always in a more cheerful mood after taking a shower, so you snuggle up under your blankets and take the time to check up on social media before dozing off. This wouldn’t be the first mistake of the night.

According to the latest news that has blown up on Twitter, you’re apparently dating and fucking Park Jimin, who made a special trip just to see you, his secret lover. How. Fucking. Romantic. You laugh because you notice a confused Jungkook with his hoodie and album in the shadowy background of the tabloid photo. But other than that, you’re pissed.

You want to post a tweet to express your outrage over the dumb rumor, but those kinds of messages need to pass through PR first, and you’re sure as fuck your company’s not going to approve of anything you have to say. As always, they’d just rewrite your statement in a more civilized manor, and at that point, it’s no longer your words.

So instead, you move away from the toxic hellsite that is Twitter and move somewhere a little more tranquil. You wish you could just find a few posts about fans who enjoyed the concert—that would be enough to set your mind at ease. It isn’t easy, considering all of the positive posts are buried beneath the massive amount of shit you’re getting for sleeping with the Park Jimin, but you eventually reach a cute blog post.

“guys! i saw snow tonight and shes so pretty😭💕”

“her vocals? fUCK. yes pls”

“also she might have rbf but shes super sweet ok”

“btw new fanfic coming tomorrow bc i was suddenly inspired lol👋”

You’re not sure how to feel about being the central subject to someone else’s fictional fantasies, but you do really love that you’ve inspired this person. Being able to have a positive impact in someone’s life; that was perhaps the deciding factor for you to walk the path of an idol. You only hope that this rewarding feeling can outweigh all of the bad.

Before closing your eyes, you check the name of the blog: jk.seagull. What a funny name, you giggle to yourself. But at least there’s someone out there who’s able to make your cold-hearted soul laugh. And for that, you’re as grateful to that person as your fans are to Snow.

-

7:27AM jinnie❤️ “We have to cancel today’s concert.”

7:28AM jinnie❤️ “There have been multiple threats made against you overnight after that rumor broke out, so we believe this is the safest thing to do.”

7:31AM Y/N “at least now i have more time to spend with my boyfriend park jimin~”

7:32AM Y/N “(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻”

7:33AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N, just take it easy today, okay? I’ll keep you updated on everything.”

7:35AM jinnie❤️ “Let me know if you want to talk.”

7:40AM Y/N “can you come over now?”

7:41AM Y/N “and can you bring another album please?”

You roll out of bed much earlier than expected to change out of your pink penguin pajamas and into sweats. Usually, you’d kill time by scrolling through Twitter, but since you aren’t in the mood to see all of the death threats, you decide to check up on that jk.seagull blog instead. You’re delighted to see that there’s a new post waiting for you. It’s a comic of some sort.

The first thing you see is a cute drawing of a pouty magic girl with bright blue eyes and a tiny snowflake in her palms. You’ve never seen fanart of Snow before, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of detail and effort put into the drawing. It looks a lot like you, except cuter.

What impresses you even more is the storyline of the comic. Snow is a powerful ice witch who wishes to protect the world from evil. The only problem is that the world fears her and bans her from using magic. Rather than shunning the world that has shunned her, she decides to find new ways to be a positive light for others without the use of magic. She decides there are other ways to be a hero.

You want to keep reading, but there’s a knock at your door.

“Ooh, pancakes~” you sniff the plastic bag of sweets that your manager hands to you as you sit him down on your couch. “Thanks, Jin~”

“You’re in a rather good mood, despite all the shit that’s been going on,” Seokjin says, putting a warm hand against your forehead to make sure you’re not sick.

“I just read an interesting fanfic.”

“You read fanfics?”

“Not usually, but this one was super cute by this funny person named jk.seagull.”

“jk.seagull? He’s a pretty popular writer and artist for Snow fanfiction, you know.”

“How would you know that? Are you saying you read smutty fanfics about me, Kim Seokjin?” you smirk.

“I never said anything about smut!” He gets overly dramatic whenever you tease him, but you always find it adorable.

“So anyway, has anyone addressed the dating rumors yet?”

“Jimin apologized for the misunderstanding, but that’s all so far.”

“We shouldn’t have to apologize.” You take an angry bite of the pancakes. “I’ll deny the rumor, but I’m not going to apologize for something that didn’t happen.”

“Look Y/N, I understand, okay? But you should at least relay a statement to PR so you can clear things up on your end.”

“Just tell them I’m sorry for interacting with another human and I’ll never do it again.”

“Y/N…”

“What, Jin? It’s bullshit. I can’t do anything without it being twisted into something scandalous and getting a shit ton of hate for it. And the company isn’t even trying to help. The only reason they want me to apologize is to save their own asses, not mine.”

“Then what do you want to do?” Seokjin speaks in his calm voice.

“I want a break,” you sigh. What’s the point of being an idol if you’re doing more harm than good?

“I’ll ask the CEO on your behalf,” Seokjin pinches your cheek. “So cheer up.” He hands you the album you requested before heading out to give you some space to think.

The rest of the day is spent being a sad potato. You honestly don’t mind the threats or rumors by themselves, but what irks you is the fact that you’re not the idol you hoped to be. You’re not a light that people look to when they’re feeling down. You’re not someone who’s made a positive impact on the world. You’re no one’s hero.

You pick up your phone and go back to jk.seagull’s comic and reread everything that’s posted so far. You’re not sure why, but it’s as if this comic understands you—not just you as Snow, but also you as Y/N. The only difference is that the Snow portrayed in the comic is a much better version of yourself; a version you’re not sure you can achieve.

One other thing you don’t yet comprehend about the comic is the title: Witch Hazel. Who would ever name a story after skincare products? Then again, who would ever name himself jk.seagull?

After looking over Witch Hazel once more, you’re finally done being a sad potato and log back onto Twitter. You link the comic to tweet and post it out to the world. No caption is attached to the tweet. You want the comic to speak for itself.

[hairringtonsteve]

spoiler alert.

(joe keery x reader)

request: oh oh oh! Joe Keery meets Y/N when being interviewed and she's like the camera woman or something and he invites her out on the town with the rest of the older cast and it's drinks and love, you know! And Y/N ends up at Joe's hotel room

summary: of course you and joe would bond over something as dumb as spoiling movies and tv shows you’ve (mostly) already seen to each other. weirdly enough, it also kind of is a massive turn on for joe. huh.

word count: 4, 532

a/n: so there are a lot of spoilers in here, but none for stranger things (go figure). but here are the movies and shows that are: star wars episode v, star wars episode vii, fight club, the handmaid’s tale, game of thrones, the sixth sense, 30 rock, harry potter and the halfblood prince. 

At least once a month, you post a picture of you wearing an all black outfit on Instagram with the caption let’s play a game called production blacks or emo (or a variation of that incredibly worn out joke). When you’re filming a live event, it’s all black, even down to your shoes. You can’t count the number of times that you’ve thrown on black sneakers, only to notice that they’ve got a white stripe down the sides. Which means running around the venue, trying to find some black duct tape or a black Sharpie to color it in.

In your college classes, you can remember multiple professors drilling it into your brain - people behind the camera should be invisible, to blend in with the background so everyone forgets that you’re there. On sets with scripted content, it’s a different story. But for anything else, you’ve got to be background noise. And you’re fine with that. There’s a kind of comfort that comes with being able to just settle into the background and watch the action go on around you.

Which is why it’s so unnerving when he noticed you.

It’s not that actors haven’t talked to you before, it’s just that there’s some kind of unspoken code with most of them. They’re polite, but distant. You’re just running the camera, a person that’s meant to be glanced at but not really looked at. It’s not a rude thing, it’s just how it is.

You’d just gotten off a string of interviews with the cast of a huge blockbuster that was coming out (not to brag, but you did get to meet most of the actors in the new Captain America movie), and you’d gotten used to a quick handshake and a brief hi, how are you? before they move on to the person who’s running the whole thing. It had been a long day, adjusting the camera settings and staving off boredom as you listened to Matt ask similar-sounding questions over and over and over. By some miracle, there was actually a couple of hours in between interviews, but that was mostly due having to switch from the Captain America backdrop to something simple for whatever new Netflix cast was up next. You were fiddling with the camera settings, killing time as you waited around for the girl who was running the lights to finish up.

“Yeah, you’re going to have to adjust that fill light, I guarantee it,” you said, grinning as she shot you a scowl.

“I think I know what I’m doing, Y/N.”

“I’m just saying, I’m pretty sure that this dude is taller than you think. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be high enough.” She shot you another glare, making you laugh at the sight of it. The two of you had worked on enough stuff together, and you knew the exact buttons to push to annoy her, and vice versa.

“You working that event tonight at the Bowl?”  

“Does it look like I’m working the event tonight?” You ask, motioning to your outfit, which was most definitely not production blacks. “The only thing that I’m doing tonight is getting caught up on Game of Thrones and eating leftover pizza.”

“Uh, excuse me, I was told to come in here for a lighting test?” You turned around at the voice, plastering on a quick smile for the actor.

“Right, uh-” You hesitated, glancing down at the chair next to you, littered with papers that Matt had printed off for the interview. You scanned the words for a second before settling on his name. “Joe, right? Just take a seat there. Cassie will finish up with the lighting in a second.”  

It was really hard for you to keep the smug smirk off your face as Joe sat down, the fill light hitting his face a weird way on camera. You waited until he was looking down at his phone to do it, the corners of your lips tugging upwards just enough to convey your message to Cassie.

I fucking told you so.

“So, you watch Game of Thrones?”  You looked from Cassie to the man in front of you, your eyebrows raising in question.

“Huh?”

“You were talking about Game of Thrones when I came in. You watch it?” The confusion was written on your face as you rested your hand against the tripod, fingers tapping against the cool metal.

“Yeah, I do,” you said. The words were coming out slow, your brain more concerned with trying to wrap your mind around his little grin than with understanding his exact words.

“What season are you in?”

“I just finished up the first season.” His eyes widened, mouth opening and you knew exactly what was coming. “I know I’m behind, okay? I get shit for it all the time.”

“How much has been ruined for you?”

“I honestly try not to think about it. Spoilers piss me off. I accidentally found out that Dumbledore died before I finished reading the book, and I ended up crying on the bus. It was terrible.”

“Dude, Dumbledore dies?”

For a second, your heart stopped pounding. A sick feeling settled into your gut. Oh God, you just ruined one of the biggest spoilers in history to this guy. But then his look of dismay turned into that little grin, and you scowled.

“That was low, man.”

“It’s not as low as Kylo Ren running a lightsaber through Han Solo’s chest.” You tried to act annoyed, but it was in vain since you literally could not stop grinning at him. “I assume you knew about that one, then?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure everyone knows about that one by now.”

“That’s true. But did you know that in -”

“Hey, man! Sorry I’m late,” Matt butted in, causing a brief flicker of annoyance to rise up in your chest. You caught Joe giving you a look before he shifted his attention towards Matt, sliding right into professionalism.

“So, he’s cute,” Cassie muttered behind you, making you jump. You blinked at her, a little surprised that she’d somehow managed to fix the fill light and walk behind you, all without you noticing.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure,” you shrugged.

A lot of actors were cute. It was no big deal.

“So you do know that Darth Vader is Luke’s father, right?”

You didn’t even have to turn around from your camera to know who it was.

Spoilers had become a sort of thing between the two of you. You were a freelancer, so a decent amount of media sites hired you to film their stuff. And at some point, Joe’s little, weird, niche sci-fi show thing (his description) had blown up. Which translated into more interviews, but more importantly, more spoilers. Somewhere along the way it had turned into this inside joke between you both.

“Bruce Willis was dead the whole time.” You turned around just in time to see his face as you said it, the corners of his mouth curving into an even wider grin as he ducked his head. He pressed his lips together like he was trying to rein it in.

Belatedly, you realized you were staring at his mouth.

“So you have any plans tonight?” You - reluctantly - dragged your gaze to his eyes, ignoring the little smirk that was planted firmly on his face.

“Nothing but eating an entire jar of Nutella and finishing up Jessica Jones.”

“My God, you are so far behind on TV. Have you even started Breaking Bad?”

“Uh, yeah. Walter White was dead the whole time.”

“Holy shit, do I need to make you a list of shows you need to watch?”

“Probably, yeah.”

There was a pause in the conversation as he looked at you, his smirk fading the longer he didn’t respond. Was he really that upset with your lack of TV watching?

“I could make you that list tonight. Over drinks?”

Oh.

Oh.

“Over drinks?” Internally, you swore at yourself for the way your voice wavered over those two simple syllables.

“Yeah, over drinks. You know, the thing where you go out and drink? With other people?” It was like magic, the way his smirk just appeared once more. “Me, and Dacre and Charlie and Nat are all heading out for drinks. I mean, Natalia can’t drink because she’s underage, but she’ll still hang out.” His smirk started to fade the longer you kept quiet. “So there’s no pressure for you to drink, but uh, I thought I’d just ask because, you know, we’ve known each other for like a year now and I just… You can stop me whenever you like because it’s going to get a lot worse and I’m honestly rambling right now…” he trailed off, offering you a helpless look.

“I’m down with drinks. I kind of just wanted to see where you were going to end up.”

“It would’ve ended up with me crying from embarrassment.”

“Way to ruin the ending for me, asshole.”

“It could’ve been worse. I could’ve told you that Tyler Durden isn’t real and is actually a product of the narrator’s split personality.”

“.... Yeah, I actually haven’t seen that one. It’s Fight Club, right?”

“Oh, fuck.”

It felt like the two of you had passed through, like, twelve friendship stages since you’d seen him earlier that day. Before, all you’d known about him was that he was funny and nice, he was an actor, and his name was Joe. All he’d known about you was that you were funny and nice, you were a camera operator, and that your name was Y/N.

But suddenly, you were getting drinks. And exchanging phone numbers. And texting. And possibly flirting (but according to Cassie and just about anyone that had seen the two of you together, you’d been flirting with each other since you’d first met).

Joe: Here. Everyone else is already inside

You: Pulling up now 👍

Your heart was currently located somewhere within your throat as the Lyft driver pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t hard to find Joe, who was leaning against the building, eyes shifting from left to right before settling on your car. He smiled, soft and small, before straightening up and heading towards the car.

“Thank you!” You said, giving the driver a quick grin and handing him the tip before opening up the car door. Joe was grinning then, offering his hand to you to help you out.

“You look great,” he said, teeth dragging across his lower lip. His voice was softer than it usually was, the look in his eyes warm and bright. Everything about him was making your body tingle with nerves. Your hand rested in his, igniting a warmth that spread down your arm and settled into your whole body as you stepped out of the car.

“Thanks. So do you.” You felt a little awkward, almost stilted. You knew how to react with him in short, teasing bursts. But this was a whole other ballgame, and you were terrified that you were going to strike out.

He didn’t let go of your hand, instead adjusting his so that his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Is this okay?” You looked up at him, and found a little solace in the fact that he looked just as nervous as you felt.

“Yeah, Joe, it’s good.” He gave your hand a quick squeeze as he started forward, leading you inside. You waited a couple of seconds before allowing your word vomit to start. “So this is kind of awkward, right?” Joe let out a loud laugh, causing a couple of people to turn their heads in your direction as the two of you made your way to a table in the back. You’d expected that you’d be grabbing drinks at some fancy place, but instead, it was some little pizza place hidden away on a side street in LA.

“This is really awkward, yeah. I feel like I don’t know what to say, y’know? Like maybe I should’ve asked you out when it’d be just the two of us.”

“You know what we need to do then, right?” Joe just looked down at you, pausing a little before you reached the table. “We drink.”

And drink you did. Charlie kept his down to a single beer, admitting that he was taking pity on Natalia since she couldn’t drink at all. Dacre drank more than you’d ever thought was humanly possible, but Joe kept reminding you that he was Australian, and they can drink infinitely more than Americans ever could. You and Joe, however, were right in between the two extremes. A couple of beers in each, pleasantly tipsy. With each sip, you found yourself leaning against him more and more. His arm rested against the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your shoulder every so often.

“So, wait. Have you or have you not watched Stranger Things?” Natalia asked you, eyes wide and incredulous.

“I’m getting to it! Do you know how many TV shows I need to watch? Just thinking about it stresses me out!”

“Dacre, hand me a napkin,” Joe ordered, looking up as the waitress passed by them. “Excuse me, miss? Whenever you have a second, could I borrow a pen?” She fished one out of her pocket, giving him a wide grin. “You are a lifesaver, thank you.”

Dacre leaned across the table, watching as Joe started to write.

Shows and Movies That Y/N Needs to Watch Right Fucking Now ASAP

You just ate your pizza as the four castmates started chiming in with show suggestions that were a must for you to watch.

“Oh, have you seen Fight Club?” Dacre asked, mouth full of french fries.

“I haven’t, but I don’t really need to. Joe ruined it for me this morning.”

“KEERY!” Dacre yelled, throwing a couple of french fries in Joe’s direction. “What the hell is wrong with you? Fuckin’ spoilers, man.”

“It’s been out for years! How the hell has she not seen it?”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s like telling someone that Jon Snow isn’t really dead.”

Joe grew quiet as your face went white. Charlie and Nat picked up on it almost immediately, both of them staring wide eyed at the big-mouthed Australian.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wait, are you not caught up?”

“I’m in the middle of season three.” Dacre was the one whose face went white in that moment, turning a bright red in mere seconds.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, holy shit. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

You didn’t want to, but a quiet chuckle escaped your lips anyway. Dacre looked so remorseful in that moment as he practically tripped over his words, still rambling on in an attempt to really apologize to you.

“It’s fine, Dacre, really. It’s not like you told me something really important, like the fact that Offred ends up pregnant with Nick’s baby.”

“I told you that I was on episode six, are you fucking kidding me?” Dacre exploded, causing Joe to grin wide enough that it looked as though it’d hurt. The table burst into laughter, bolstered by the fact that Dacre was just sitting in his chair sputtering as he shook his head violently.

“That might the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Joe said, as casual as though he was commenting on the weather. But when you looked over to him, his eyes were dark as he watched you. Something dropped in your stomach, and in that span of a second, the pizzeria became stifling.

“Right,” Charlie began, but his voice sounded distant to you. Then again, everything was sounding distant to you, and becoming even more distant the longer you looked at Joe. “On that note, I think we’re going to leave.”

“You ready to head out, then?” Joe’s voice was the only voice that sounded close. You looked over to him, cheeks a little warm as you nodded. It was kind of a blur as everyone settled the check (the only thing that was clear was the fact that Joe was refusing to let you pay) and before you knew it, you and Joe were waving everyone off as the two of you lingered out on the sidewalk.

“So, um, hottest thing you’ve ever seen, huh?” Your words weren’t slurring by any means, but there was still a pleasant fog hovering over your brain, your words falling out of your mouth a little slower than they usually did.

Joe turned to look at you, his head moving in a slow nod. He took a step closer to you, resting a hand on your waist to pull you into him.

“I love Dacre, I do, but you ruining The Handmaid’s Tale for him like that was the single most attractive thing that I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” His lips were on yours right after the single word was spoken. It was warm and lazy, like the two of you had all the time in the world to just kiss each other. It was late out; the sidewalk was mostly empty. It was easier to forget that you weren’t in a more private spot, especially when his tongue swiped along your lower lip. You opened your mouth, deepening the kiss as you wound your arms around his neck. The tension spurred the two of you on, pushing you closer to him as his free hand wound behind you, grabbing your -

“Get a room, Jesus!”

The stranger’s voice sounded from down the street, but it was enough to make you spring away from him. You weren’t sure when your fingers had wound into his hair, but it was looking disheveled all the same, some tufts standing straight up as though he’d just gotten out of bed.

“You want to get out of here?” Joe’s voice was wrecked. It was low and scratchy. His chest was heaving up and down as though he’d been running in a dead sprint. The look he was giving you put images in your head, ones of him pressing you up against a wall and wrapping your legs around his waist as his lips made their home against your neck.

“Absolutely,” you said. Your own voice wasn’t that much better. That single word had come out far more breathless than you’d intended, but the effect it had on Joe made a fire run in your veins, screaming throughout your entire body.

Joe pulled out his phone, fingers trembling as he opened up the app to call an Uber. You were going to make some sort of joke about how he still used Uber when Lyft was so much better, but he glanced to you out of the corner of his eye, and it made your knees a little weak.

It was worse when he put his phone away.

The two of you were standing there, shoulder to shoulder as the driver took his or her good time in getting there. A group of drunken college students had meandered down the street, and as much as you wanted to, making out with Joe once more wasn’t an option.

“How drunk are you right now?” You looked up at him, appreciating the way that the orange streetlights lit his face. He was all soft light and shadows, with an occasional pink hue from a broken, neon sign.

“Maybe slightly tipsy? Sober enough to consent, if that’s what you’re asking.” His eyes were darkening with every passing second.

“Same here.” Your teeth raked across your lower lip, biting down on it. Joe groaned, running his fingers through his hair as he tilted his head back. “You’re going to drive me insane.”

The Uber pulled up right in front of you. Joe rested his hand against the small of your back, guiding you to the car.

The car ride was torture. It was a sweet kind of torture, but torture nonetheless. Joe kept his hand on your thigh the entire time, trying time after time to inch it up, only to be stopped by your glare. Every time he was caught, he’d shoot you this dark little smirk that sent heat right down your spine.

There was no doubt in your mind that if you let him continue, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. The poor driver didn’t deserve to deal with that.

It was a little embarrassing just how fast you made it out of the Uber the second it was in park. You practically leaped out of the car, eager to try and get a handle on yourself. But you really couldn’t. All you could feel was the ghost of his hand gripping your thigh, or his lips against yours, nothing but need. Hell, it took you a full twenty seconds to realize that you were at a hotel.

“You okay?” It was as though he’d appeared out of thin air, made of nothing but attraction and a little bit of concern. Your hand reached out and took hold of his.

“I’m great.”

It would have been a miracle if the two of you could have made it up to his room before you leapt at each other. Thankfully, it was a little past one in the morning, which meant that the elevator was empty.

The second the doors dinged shut, Joe had you crowded into the corner. This time it was different. It was hard to tell where you ended and he began. With every move of his lips you were dissolving into him. You nipped at his lower lip, gentle as you tugged on it. A low groan emanated from his throat as he pressed against you.

It was hard to tell whether Joe was taking something from you or giving it to you. All you knew was that you felt like rushing water, shifting and moving and responding to every move that he took.

Far away, you could hear the opening of the elevator doors. It almost physically hurt to pry yourself away from him, but suddenly, you needed to get into that room of his. Joe blinked down at you, mirroring your exact expression.

“I…” He breathed out that lonesome letter, the look on his face telling you all that you needed to know. You took his hand and lead him out of the elevator, pausing as you waited for him to speak. “Lead the way,” he said, dazed.

“I don’t know what room it is.”

Joe stared down at you for a moment longer, the dazed look in his eyes fading until he realized what you’d just said. A furious blush attacked his cheeks as he led you down the hall. His thumb kept rubbing distracting circles into your skin.

It took a little longer for the two of you to make it to his room. Once, because he’d glanced back to you and caught sight of your lip between your teeth, which had ended up with your back against the wall, his lips against yours as he muttered something about biting that lip for you.

The bigger reason, however, was the fact that once your party of two had reached his room, his hands had been shaking so hard as he tried to put the key card into the slot. Apparently, it was hard for him to concentrate when you were pressing kiss after kiss against his jaw, fingers hooked around his belt loops to draw him closer to you.

“Y/N, I just - I - C’mon, I can’t - Yes.”

Just like that, he’d managed to unlock the door, practically shoving you through it and then promptly apologizing. You stepped into the room, taking it all in. It was an average hotel room, littered with a couple of shirts on the ground, and two PlayStation 4 controllers setting on top of the mini fridge. He flipped on a light, the room illuminated enough to make everything nice and soft.

A bout of nerves filled your chest as you glanced over to him. This was Joe, the guy that you’d been denying that you had a crush on for almost a year. This was the guy that had made you look forward to filming some interviews, who had popped in and out of your life ever since you’d first met.

You liked Joe.  A lot. A hell of a lot.

He was staring at you, patient as he waited for you to say something. There was a small smile lingering on his lips as he watched you, and it caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter in your stomach. He started to walk towards you, eyes focused on yours as your pulse quickened.

“You look a little terrified, which is kinda weird, since twenty seconds ago you were kissing me like your life depended on it,” he teased, his words gentle as he reached for you. You let him circle his arms around your waist, loose enough for you to pull away if you wanted to.

“I just, I like you, alright? I don’t want to mess anything up. Or give you the wrong impression.”

“The impression that I got was that you like me as much as I like you, and we’re going to be hanging out a lot more together, and that this isn’t casual at all for either of us.” The relief flooded through you, washing away any doubts that had sunk their teeth into your mind. “Am I close?”

“Spot on, actually.”

“Would it make you feel better if we just hang out, maybe watched some TV and made out a lot?”

“Are you proposing that we… Netflix and chill?”

Joe laughed, his head dropping against yours as he grinned. His laughter devolved into snickers as he looked down at you.

“Essentially, I guess so. It’s catchier than saying let’s watch Parks and Rec and make out a ton during it.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, followed by one to your cheek. “You have seen Parks and Rec, right? Because if you haven’t, we can’t make out during it. You need to see it.”

“I’ll… I’ll get to it, okay! Don’t judge me!” Joe tugged you towards the bed, falling down onto it and pulling you down with him.

“What the hell have you seen? Because I really want to make out with you.”

“30 Rock.”

“I haven’t finished it yet, though.”

“Have you gotten to the part where Liz and Jack get married?” Joe turned onto his side so he could get a better look at you. You just grinned up at him, the laughter bubbling up out of you like a spring.

“Don’t start with me,” he warned. His words were low, but they were belied by the grin that he just couldn’t get rid of.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, hmmm, Keery?” He leaned down, swinging his leg over you and resting a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up. His lips hovered just above yours as he smirked. His mouth brushed against yours, hot and open as you stared up at him.

“I can think of a few things.”

taglist: @allfandomxreader @myblackwings5 @morgandakotaq @rivedale @laterg8r @buckybass @alwaysmebeforeyou @istanuriss

[minimickzy]

Beverly Hills || Richie Tozier

Request: RICHIE PLEASE & THANK YOU I THRIVE OFF OF RICHIE X READERS

+could i get a uHhhh richie tozier x reader bc the tag is so dry and i need my drug

Characters: Reader x Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough (mentioned)

Word count: 2545 (holy fuck I thought this was going to be 600 words tops)

Warning: swearing

a/n: my favorite thing I’ve ever done! please let me know what you think! let me know if you want to be added to any tag lists!

also a huge thank you to @obscureinfinities and @andshescrazyy for helping me piece together the end. you lifesavers 

You and Richie were best friends from the start of the losers club back when you were all pre puberty and senseless, the same summer when the whole pennywise situation went down.

Just like you knew would happen the club broke apart little by little as its members moved away or outgrew what made them outsiders to the rest of society. All but you and Rich. You didn’t know if it was fate or by dumb luck but you never seemed to be far away from each other that long. The longest you hadn’t talked to him in the last 4 years was 3 days and that was because the power was out and you were sick.

Even now with college and jobs and all that close one your heels at the end of senior year it didn’t seem to rattle your friendship. You’d still pass by Big Bill on the way to your 5th hour or sometimes sneak a peek at Eddie in the drugstore but  other than that Richie was the only one you still had left.

You stood at your locker, Your books were stacked against each other at odd angles. Sharpie marks you’d been working on for the last 4 years of your life were already started to fade and chip away. You paused for a moment to run a finger carefully where Richie had taken his pocket knife and carved the both of your initials into the thin metal. You’d doubt he’d remember.

“Hey! (y/n), guess what?!” Richie yelled over the heads of obviously pissed off students. You shut your locker and smiled at him. “What?” He snaked his way through the crowd and stopped in front of you with a letter. “What’s that?” His grin widened ear to ear. “I️ got the letter. The letter that tells me if I️ fucking got that shitty ass radio job.” You took the letter from his hand trying to see through the paper.

“Why haven’t you opened it?!” You laughed handing it back to him. “Cause I️ was waiting for you dumbass.” He smiled again and you latched yourself onto his arm. “Are you gonna open it now?” “Well, I️ mean I️ could. I’m just... nervous.” You squeezed his arm a bit as you walk. “It’ll be fine, either way. I️ promise.” He smiled down on you and took a deep breath, “Yeah. Okay.” He dramatically started to rip it open slowly earning a eye-roll from you.

He slid out the paper and started to read it, his pace quickened and his eye grew wide before he let out a hearty yell. “I️ fucking got it! Holy shit!” You yelled and jumped up and down. “You and I️ are getting out of this shit hole called Derry sweetheart, and I️ have a good money maker to pay all those sweet, sweet bills with.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek before running off to his locker to grab his stuff so you could go home for the day.

You placed a hand over where his lips had just been and sighed. You and I️. We’re getting out. Together. You had told Richie when he started bringing up the future that you wanted out of Derry but what really mattered with staying with him. You assumed he didn’t care or wouldn’t remember. But he did, he always did.

You remembered one day freshman year he joked about how he ‘didn't know where he'd be without you’ and kissed your cheek and you pushed him away laughing “gross Rich! Cut that out!” He just smirked and leaned in close to your ear “one day, you're going to marry me and then we’ll see how gross that is.” A blush flew to your cheeks. You were thankful the rest of the losers couldn’t hear what he had said.

Sure enough you and Richie had always had a thing, unspoken and forgotten but nevertheless growing, like a tumor waiting to kill you, nice and slow like that boys smile. You guys had cuddled up, shared tight hugs and even a few kisses but those were pushed aside, by you at least, as just bumps in the road.

Sometimes people had mistaken you for a couple, neither of you bothered to correct it. 

“Dinner with my parents right?” Richie asked, wrapping a arm around your shoulders and breaking your train of thought. “Yeah, I️ already told mine I️ wasn’t going to be home tonight.” “Sleepover?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled. You nodded, “sleepover.”

The walk to his house was pleasant. You stopped by the drugstore to buy some smokes and grab some candy for later. You looked through the selves with a sucker playing at your lips. You wanted to find a funny for later and you knew Richie would spot you the cents, he always did.

“Hey (y/n/n)!” You looked up to see Richie grinning ear to ear waving you over. You quickly grabbed a 5 cent deal and went over to Rich. Eddie was behind the cash register, he was decked out in a white apron. You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, “Seems our boys got himself a job, isn’t that right Eddie spaghetti.” You could see a small flash of a smile find itself on Eddie's face with the old nickname. “Yeah, mister Keene gave it to me, said after helping me for so many years he trusted me.” Eddie smiled, proud.

As he rang the two of you up Richie noticed the sucker now caught between your lips. “What flavor?” He asked. You shrugged, “cherry I️ think?” You took it out of you mouth and put it up in the light, he took it and gave it a quick taste, then handed it back to you. He nodded, “definitely.” You looked back at Ed’s to find him watching the two of you with disgust and admiration. “Are you guys...  together now?” Eddie asked. He pointed at the arm draped across your waist and the sucker now in your hand. Richie laughed, “physically, yes”. You laughed and turned away waving a quick goodbye to Eddie as the two of you left the store.

As soon as walked in the door You spread yourself out on Richie's bed. You always loved the smell of his room. Cigarette smoke and old paper with a bit of something you never quit could describe. Richie pulled off his tee shirt and switched it out for a neat button up you’d normally see on Stanley. You moved to lean your head on your hands and look up at him from the end of the bed. “My parents said they’d be home in like a hour and they expect me to have it on the table. And me as in you and me.” You groaned but still pushed yourself up and followed him down to the kitchen.

By the time an hour passed you and Richie had completed the task. A full meal was out on the table, and more importantly it was good. Mr. and Mrs. Tozier came home and sat down opposite the two of you. You had known them for as long as you had known Richie. They were very nice to you. They were simple and kind to most everyone. Sometimes they didn’t understand Richie but they still supported him and you had to appreciate them for that.

After all of the small pleasantries were exchanged Richie shot you a excited and nervous glacé before clearing his throat to get his parents attention. “Guess what came in the mail this morning.” His dad looked up and his mom nodded, “What is it honey?” Richie gave you a final look before grabbing your hand under the table and continuing, “That job I️ applied for, the radio one. I️ got it! I️ start right after graduation.” His mom cheered and clapped happily and his dad grinned ear to ear, “I’m real proud of you son.” he squeezed your hand a little tighter. “Yeah, Me and (y/n) are moving all the way to Beverly Hills, we’re gonna be in the big time.”

His mom and dad were so proud of him. The rest of dinner was upbeat, his mom asked about what your plans were, you said you’d figure it out when you get there. His dad asked if you were going to live together, Richie answered yes before you had the chance to inject, not that you would have.

You didn't know Richie had planned this from the start. You didn't know Richie thought about the future as much as you did. And you definitely didn't know he was already planning on how to get you to fall in love with him. He didn't know you already had.  

That night, in his dimly lit room, you sat on his bed cross legged as he showed you a new character he had been working on. “So, what did you think?” he asked and you smiled, “amazing Richie, just like always.” he gleamed at you and sat down across from you. “I can’t believe we did it.” “you did it.” “you think I’d be here without you?” you blushed and looked away, “yeah, it's all you Rich.” he huffed, “without you I don't even know if I’d be here.” “Richie you kn-” “No seriously, I mean yeah, I have my parents and they're great and all but your my best friend. If you had left me like everyone else I don't know what I would have done.” you laughed a little as the memory from freshman year ran back through your mind.

Richie looked at you funny, “What?” you chuckled again, “I was just remembering the first time you told me that.” he smiled again “When was that?” you glanced back up to him to make sure he wasn't in the crude joke kind of mood. “Freshman year, you told me that and then kissed my cheek and said we were going to get married.” He laughed, “I meant it too.” “Richie-” you stopped yourself, you knew he was joking, after all that what he does, make jokes. You felt yourself lean away from him, it wasn't a conscious choice but he definitely noticed. 

“Richie what?” you shook your head. “It was nothing.” “no it wasn’t.” you frowned, “let's just forget it.” Richie looked worried, he shook his head. “You know I can't forget it.” you gave him a meek smile, “It was just a stupid idea, okay?” he shook his head again, “No, tell me what you were going to say.” “No,” “Yes.” “Richi-” “(y/n)” “Richie sto-” “(y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n)!” Fuck he knew how to crack you. “Fine! Okay just- wait.” You tried to think about something, anything you could lie well enough about to cover your sorry ass. If you told him, what you really did want to say, he meant just leave. There was nothing to stop him from walking out of your life just like everyone else.

“(y/n), come on I’m your best friend you can tel-” “exactly! Best friend.” you quickly turned away. “What?” you cracked, “I just- I know you think of me as your best friend or whatever but I can't help but think of you as more and I just wanted to keep my big fat mouth shut so that you wouldn't fucking leave me just like everyone else, you're all i have left Richie, I don't want to lose you over loving you.” you let a few tears drop, you sniffed and he started to panic. He made you cry because you thought he didn't love you. That's the only thing he did do. Fuck homework and fuck chores, he was too busy, too busy loving you. “(y/n), I- I couldn't leave you.” you let out a breathy laugh, “why not? Now it's just going to be awkward.”  “But, I love you too, I- I think I always have… I just thought you wanted friends with benefits or something… I mean I told you I was going to marry you, friends don't do that.” you smiled slightly, “I thought you were joking.” “well I wasn't. Your all I have, and I wouldn't trade that for anything.” you threw yourself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

5 years since you had moved to Beverly Hills with Richie, he was a huge hit. He even got T.V. gigs sometimes, and was invited to all of these events that most people from Derry could only dream of. He bought a real house (with a pool and huge backyard) as soon as he had the money. You said he was spoiling you and he said so what? He took you out everywhere with him too. He’d bring you out to dinner or a movie at least three times a week when he was in town. He had found this spot the first week you got there, a small park off of a big highway. There was a retaining wall to block the noise of the cars and lets of trees and flowers everywhere. He said it was beautiful like you, you said bullshit. He brought you back there every Sunday night, without fail. Even if he had a booking he’d rush home late or bring you early, he said it was your spot.

This Sunday was a bit chilly, you had grabbed a sweater from the house and he had bought you a coffee on the way to your spot. It wasn't too late yet, only around 9ish. You sat down on the grass and set the coffee next to you. He seemed stressed tonight, you didn't push though, he never was one to talk about his problems. He sat down next to you and took your hand. “Do you remember high school at all?” you shrugged, he never brought it up. “some, why?” “I was just wondering.” you squeezed his hand a bit, “Are you okay Rich?” he nodded, “Are you sure? we can go home if you want.” a sly grin found its way to his lips. “As long as I’m with you, I am home.” you laughed at his pickup line, he gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek. You brought your hand up to touch the warmth.

He barely ever kissed your cheek, he normally went for your lips or jaw or sometimes your neck. In fact he hadn't kissed you right there since high school. you zoned out a little thinking about it, “I remember some.” you repeated, he turned you to focus back on him.  “Can I ask you something?” you nodded. “You love me right?” you let out a small laugh, “of course.” “okay, cool. Because I love you too, and I think we should let the world know. So what I want to ask is,” He took a deep breath, “Will you marry me?” you almost screamed, almost. “Y-yes, yes!” you kissed him so hard he feel back onto the grass behind him. You laughed and even cried a bit, talk about being overwhelmed by happiness. He sat up still holding you to him with a arm tightly around your waist. He moved his head to be next to your ear and whispered: “I told you.”

Tags:

@thekidsofneibolt @mcheung0314 @pinetree111 @o-starshine @rubi54 @gothelle

[i-also-miss-our-talks]

Accusations ~ Connor Murphy x Kleinman!Reader

Requested by a reader on Wattpad. Not sure how I feel about this, honestly. And please don’t kill me if the dialogue isn’t 100% accurate. I just wrote it from memory. 

WC: 2,092

Warning: Swearing, Hospital, Jared Kleinman

Masterlist

As always, I try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible.

And if you’re wondering, I love hearing what you guys think of my stories. You can send me a message or an ask and just let me know what you thought about on any of my stories or headcannons!

“Is it weird to be the first person in history to break their arm from jerking off too much?”

You smacked your brothers arm. “Hey! Be nice, Jared,” you said and walked over to Evan. Your first day of 11th grade and your brother was already being a bad influence. You pointed to his cast. “Can I sign it?”

Evan nodded and pulled out his sharpie. “H-Here. J-Jared, do you want t-to sign it-t?” Evan stuttered.

Jared sighed. “No. We’re just family friends. I don’t even know why Y/N is signing it.”

You scribbled down your name and a smily face before facing Jared. “Because I’m actually his friend.”

Jared rolled his eyes and looked past you. He smirked at the sight. “Hey, Connor. Love the new hair length. Very school shooter chic.”

Turning, you see a tall man, Jared’s age, with long brown hair. His black nails were slightly chipped as you watched him grip his bag strap. His eyes almost appeared as two different colors, but you couldn’t quite tell because he wasn’t looking at you. He was glaring at your brother.

“It’s…a joke,” Jared said.

“Yeah, no, it was funny,” Connor said. “I’m laughing, can’t you tell?”

As much as this guy was hot, you couldn’t help but feel something off about him. You turn to Evan. “Go to class, Ev. I don’t want this Connor guy messing with your anxiety,” you whispered. Evan nodded and ran off to his first class.

“Am I not laughing hard enough for you?!” Connor raised his voice.

Jared tossed his hand in the air carelessly. “You’re such a freak.”

“Jared!” You glared at him. “Quit being so mean to people!”

“The fuck are you laughing at?”

You turned around to see Connor standing right in front of you. You looked up—yes, his eyes were two different colors—and gulped. “W-What?”

“Stop. Fucking. Laughing at me!” Connor yelled at you.

“N-No! I wasn’t-“

“You think I’m the freak?!”

“No! I never said-“

“I’m not the freak! You’re the fucking freak!”

“I WASN’T LAUGHING AT YOU!” That caused Connor to stop. “I’m sorry that Jared said those things to you, but I wasn’t laughing. I’ve never met you, Connor, but I sincerely hope this isn’t how you actually are, making accusations and such,” you said.

Connor frowned at you. “How do you know what I’m actually like?”

You shook your head. “I don’t. But I have a feeling that you’re just confining in what society makes you out to be.” With that, you make your way to your first class.

Why? Why must fate have its way? Why were you sitting here? Why were you sitting here in your last class of the day? Why were you sitting here next to Connor in your creative writing class?

“Well this is fucking fantastic,” Connor mumbled as he sat down beside you.

You rolled your eyes. “Likewise.”

Connor rested his chin on his hand as he listened to the teacher go over the syllabus.

“You know, you don’t strike me as a writer,” you whispered.

“That’s cause I'm not a fucking writer. They just threw me in this shitty class,” he whispered. “I never caught your fucking name.”

“I didn’t fucking throw it,” you smirked. “Y/N Kleinman.”

Connors eyes widened. “You’re related to that asshole?”

“Yeah. He’s my older brother. But he’s such a dick,” you frowned and pulled out your notebook since the teacher started writing notes.

“Tell me about it,” Connor said before taking out his as well.

You giggled quietly. When you told people that, they would say things along the lines of, “he’s your brother, he’s supposed to act like that,” “oh, you’re just overreacting,” “he’s not that bad.” But Connor agreed with you. He knew how your brother actually acted.

All too soon, class ended. You packed up your bag and made your way to the door till Connor spoke up.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, walking over to you. “I didn’t get all the notes. Do you think you could text me a shitty photo of yours?”

You smiled. “Sure. I’ll make sure it’s the shittiest one you’ve ever seen,” you teased and grabbed his phone, typing in your information.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.” He put his phone away and walked with you towards the student parking lot. “I have to go print some shit out in the computer lab, so I guess I’ll text you later?”

You shook your head. “Nah. Jared can wait. I’ll come with you!” You could’ve sworn you saw a quick smile on Connors face before you two walked to the lab. You saw Evan and waved at him. “Hi, Evan!”

Evan smiled and waved shyly. “H-Hi, Y/N.”

You skipped over to him while you waited for Connor to turn on his computer. “Did you talk to Zoe today?”

The blue boy shrugged. “I-It wasn’t really, like, really talking, I guess?” He pressed print on his document.

“But you managed to say something to her, right?” you asked, looking at his cast for a signature from her.

Evan played with the edge of his shirt. “Kinda?”

“Hey, I, uh, see you broke your arm.”

You both turn to see Connor standing next to you with a piece of paper in his hand.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah, I did,” Evan stuttered.

“How’d you break it?” Connor asked.

“I, um, I fell out of a tree.”

You were surprised! Evan wasn’t stuttering!

“Well that’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Connor said. He pointed to Evan cast. “Can I sign it?”

“Oh, no it’s okay, you don’t have t-“

“Have a sharpie?” Evan quickly pulled one out of his pocket. Connor wrote his name in big block letters across Evan’s arm, but making room for yours from earlier. “There. Now we can both pretend we have friends.”

You lightly elbowed Connor. “Hey, I’m your friend, too,” you smiled.

Connor shrugged. “Yeah. I guess. Anyway, I found this on the printer. Is it yours?”

Evan looked at the paper in Connors hands. “Yes! That’s mine! But don’t read it cause it’s kinda personal and all and-“

“‘because there’s Zoe and all my hope is pinned on Zoe?’ You wrote this?” Connor asked. You noticed him start to tense up like he did when Jared made fun of him. “You wrote this…cause you knew I would find it.”

Evan shook his head. “No! Why would I-“

“So I can read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right!?”

“Connor, no! I promise you Evan wouldn’t do that,” you said, trying to calm him down by placing a hand on his arm. But he pushed you away, a little too harshly, actually. You fell back and lost your balance. Your back slammed against the ground and your head banged against the back of the wooden chair at one of the computer desks, yet neither of the Seniors seemed to notice.

“And then you can go and tell everyone how much of a freak I am!” Connor yelled. “Well, fuck you, Evan Hansen!” And with that, he stormed out of the lab.

“No, please, just give it back!” Evan yelled.

You got up, despite your body’s wails of pain, and chased after the long-haired boy. “Connor, wait!”

“You were in on it too, right? Your brother probably put all this shit together to mess with me, right?” Connor yelled, turning around to face you.

“No! This is what I was talking about, Connor! You need to stop making accusations!” You felt your head spin. Maybe you hit it harder than you thought. The floor stared to wave around before everything went black and your body went limp. Before you were completely out, though, you heard Connor call out your name.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Ugh, turn it off,” you groaned and reached around to turn off your alarm. Instead you felt a hand. You opened your eyes and followed the hand up the arm and to the persons face. Connor’s face, actually. “What the fuck?”

You looked around, taking in your surroundings. Turns out, you weren’t at home, trying to shut off your alarm. You were actually at the hospital, trying to shut off your heart monitor.

“You’re awake. Fucking finally. And just as Kleinman leaves, too,” Connor mumbled and softly rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“What happened?” you asked and tried to sit up. But your back screamed out in pain, causing you to scream as well.

Connor jumped up and held your back, carefully lowering you back down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, Y/N. It’ll make it worse. What do you need?”

You looked up at him and gripped his arm, squeezing it to help relieve the pain. “I need to go home. I hate hospitals.”

“Y/N!”

Both of you turn and see Jared standing in the doorway with a coffee. “You’re up!”

You nodded. “Yeah. I guess. How long was I out?”

Jared walked over to you and kissed your forehead. “About two days, I think. I wasn’t there when you passed out, though, so I can’t say,” Jared explained and set his coffee down. He glared at Connor before taking your hand off his arm and holding it with both of his.

Connor shoved his hands in his pockets and got up. “I’ll see myself out.”

“No, Connor, wait,” you said. “Can you stay? Please?”

“Uh, Y/N? I’ll be here. You wont need Connor. Especially since he’s the one that caused all of this,” Jared said.

You frowned and pulled your hand away from him. “I don’t care, Jared. I want Connor here.” You reached out one of your hands towards the long-haired boy. Connor came back and held your hand, smirking at Jared.

Jared glared at him. “Fuck you, Murphy.”

“Likewise, Kleinman.”

About two weeks later—geez, Connor pushed you pretty hard. Though he did come to visit you everyday after school till around 11 at night when he was forced out of the room so he made up for it—you were well enough to go home. Your back still ached and you had a huge goose egg on the back of your head, but you could make it with some pain meds. Of course, you didn’t tell Connor you were coming back. You wanted to surprise him.

You walked into your last hour right before the bell rang. You saw Connor sitting in his seat, writing something in his notebook. You smiled brightly and skipped over to him. “You’re not a fucking writer, huh?”

Connors head bolted up at the sound of your voice. His eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he whispered and stood up. Connor hugged you close, not really caring about whether the other classmates saw. You giggled and hugged him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

“Yeah. Cause I wanted to surprise you, dummy. Did it work?”

“Hell yeah it did,” Connor said and let go of you, both of you sitting back down in your seats.

You smiled and took out your notebook. Thankfully, while you were in the hospital, Connor took notes for you. Therefore, your notebook was filled with his, sloppy but eligible, handwriting. You thanked him before turning to the next open page to write the notes on the board for today. But when you flipped to the page, you noticed a little rose was sketched in the corner. “Did you draw this?”

Connor nodded. “Yeah. It's pretty fucking bad.”

You shook your head. “No! No it looks lovely, Connor,” you whispered and placed your hand on his arm.

The boy turned to look at you, placing his hand over yours on his arm. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you…maybe…shit I don't know…do you wanna go out sometime? Like…fuck this is stupid I shouldn't have said anything and now you're gonna go tell your brother and-“

“Connor!” You kissed his cheek, smiling. “Relax. I'd love to go out with you. And before you say anything, don't you dare give a fuck about what my brother thinks, okay?”

Connor smiled. “Awesome, I mean, cool. Whatever,” he mumbled. Though he did intertwine your fingers, he tried not to show his enthusiasm to the other classmates.

You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder.

Who knew that your brother making fun of someone could turn into the start of a wonderful relationship?

[imaginebeinghamiltrash]

Risk and Reward

Pairing:Barista!Lin x Reader

Requested?: Nope! It just came to my head one day and I ran with it.

Summary: You stop by a café to grab coffee on your way to work, said café also has a really cute barista.

Words: 5k+

Part One | Part Two

A/N: Well here we are. I had this idea for a real long time but it just never came together. Now I have gotten my shit together (thanks Ale and Kate) and I think I can start this series! Shoutout to Taryn for being a huge inspiration behind this series. Work Comes Home was the reason this idea even became an actual fic and not a passing thought. I really hope you guys like it!

Tags: @fragmentofmymind @secretschuylersister @hamiltonwrotetheother51 @thehamiltonpost @icanneverbesatisfied @sharkastic-issues @villagecrazypeggy @butlinislin @daveeddiggsit @nadialinett14 @librarychild @spidey-boii @me-hoy-me-trash @serkewen12 @daveedish @linmanuclmiranda @autistic-alien @runnerriley @hamilsquad-writings @thegirlonhamilton

You quickly entered the coffee shop, shuffling up to the counter with a panicked expression. Your bus was coming soon and you were running late for your first day at a new job.

“Hi, can I have two medium iced caramel lattes?” You rushed out, already opening your wallet to find your debit card. You got it out and held it towards the barista who was just staring back at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, running your hand over your cheek.

The dark-haired man seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in, blinking rapidly as he straightened his posture.

“Oh! No, no I’m sorry ma’am. I, uh, I…” He struggled to finish his sentence and you giggled lightly, he was sort of cute.

“It’s okay. I space out too,” you paused to look at his nametag, “Lin.” You finished, holding out your debit card once again.

He nodded, taking your card and looking at the screen in front of him and pausing.

“...I’m sorry what did you order again?” Lin smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Two medium iced caramel lattes, man, open your ears.” A deep voice cut into the conversation as a tall man leaned around Lin to hand you your drinks.

“My ears are open, Chris.” Lin grumbled, tapping the order into the machine and swiping the card before handing it back to you.

“Thank you, Lin! Thank you, Chris!” You called out to the two workers behind the counter before you were running back to the streets and down the block to the bus. Lin watched until you disappeared out of his line of sight.

“Smooth. Real smooth, Lin.” Chris chuckled, shaking his head as he washed out a blender.

“Shut up!” Lin grumbled, punching his co-worker’s shoulder softly as he laughed.

“I was just caught off guard by her beauty. So beautiful… and so out of my league.” Lin pouted, leaning on the counter.

“Hey, don’t say that. She seemed to be into you too. She was running late and instead of getting annoyed at your stuttering, she laughed.” Chris pointed out, leaning next to his shorter friend.

“She could’ve just been laughing at me.” Lin challenged, though he inwardly hoped Chris was right.

“Guess we won’t know until she comes back then. Better start prepping now, Casanova.” Chris stood up, disappearing into the back and leaving Lin in the empty coffee shop.

The next day, you walked into the shop again. This time you were a little early, so you took in your surroundings. The walls were a dark shade of red that matched perfectly with mahogany tables and chairs that were scattered around the room. Along one wall, there was a huge glass window that let you see the traffic outside as people passed by.

Lin elbowed Chris once you had walked in, shooting him a nervous glance. Chris made sure you weren’t watching before he pushed Lin towards the register. Lin spun around to glare at his friend but paled when he realized he wasn’t there. Chris had disappeared into the back room.

You turned back to the counter and walked up to the man you remembered as Lin.

“Hey, Lin!” You greeted him, noticing his slightly flustered appearance.

“Good morning! How may I help you today?” Lin fidgeted with his fingers under the counter, watching as your eyes flickered to the menu.

So far out of his league.

“Can I have a chai tea latte please?”

“Coming right up! Your name?” Lin picked up a sharpie, waiting with a cup in his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Lin repeated, writing it on the cup and moving to start on your order.

You walked to the window and sat right next to it, watching the outside world in motion. Meanwhile Lin was watching you; the way your eyes darted from place to place, the way your fingers drummed against the table, the way you chewed your lip absentmindedly. He could look at you all day, but he should’ve been looking at his hands because he ended up pouring some of the steaming hot latte on his hand instead of in the cup.

“Fuck!” Lin yelled, resisting the instinct to drop the cups in his hands.

You instantly looked over, eye widening as you ran to the counter.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You asked, watching Lin shake out his hand and whine loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Lin repeatedly yelled, eyes tearing up.

Without another thought, you jumped over the counter pulling Lin to the sink and turning on the cold water. You tested to make sure it wasn’t freezing before moving Lin’s hand under the stream.

“Tell me when the pain stops, okay?” You looked into Lin’s eyes, noticing how close you both were. His irises were a beautiful shade of brown, his eye bags were also much more intense up close. Lin nodded, all words being stripped away from his mind because of the close proximity of you. You averted your eyes to your hand which was still around Lin’s wrist, holding it under the water. You should probably pull away now but you didn’t, Lin wasn’t complaining either.

“I’m sorry about your latte.” Lin spoke softly, as if he was sharing a secret with you.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ll take whatever is left.” You reassured him, copying his soft tone.

“Your next drink is on me. I insist, since I’m such a fuck up.”

Truth be told, the pain had simmered down a couple seconds ago, but you were holding his wrist. He liked that.

“I won’t turn down free caffeine.” You jested, smiling when Lin chuckled.

You glanced at the clock and cursed under your breath.

“I gotta go, take care of your burn okay?” You jumped over the counter, grabbing your bag and dashing out to the bus stop yet again.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Chris sighed, appearing in the doorway of the backroom. 

Lin glanced over at him, shrugging as Chris shook his head.

“Well, I got her name and we had a moment...of sorts.”

“Next time, try not to injure yourself Lin.” Chris laughed, picking up the now cold cup of chai latte and tossing it out.

“No promises.”

You were off work this week but your mind wouldn’t let you rest, instead it chose to focus on that cute barista. So naturally, you get up and get dressed to go to the shop. Like clockwork you entered the shop at 9:30 am. The familiar smell of a dark roast wafted through the air, a calm sensation running through you at the warm scent. You walked up to the counter, frowning slightly when your usual barista wasn’t behind the counter. However, the one you remembered as Chris was there fiddling with some settings on a machine. You smiled politely as you made eye contact.

“Good morning!”

Chris opened his mouth to reply when the sound of a door slamming into the wall caused you both to turn your attention to the entrance. Lin ran past you both, yelling an apology — at least you think it was an apology, honestly he was speaking so fast you didn’t understand him — as he ran into the backroom. As Lin’s noisy entrance moved into the back of the shop, you and Chris stood there for a moment before laughing.

“Is he always…” You trailed off, not sure how to explain the behavior of the man who just stormed through the shop.

“A scatterbrain? Yep, that’s Lin for you, but he’s a great guy.” Chris reassured you, turning back to face you.

“Yeah. He is.” You agreed without much thought, looking over the menu.

Chris smirked to himself, noting the interest you unconsciously were showing.

“Can I have a large caramel macchiato?”

“Coming up, Y/N.” Chris picked up the right size cup before turning away and getting to work. Lin burst into the room again, his apron tied around him and his hair disheveled. He walked to the register, trying to steady his breathing as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry about all that.” He gestured wildly with his hands, “I just woke up late and had to run here.”

“Ah, the tables have turned.” You giggled, leaning on the counter as Lin blushed lightly.

“Yeah, yeah. Just for today! I’m usually very punctual.”

“I bet.”

You glanced at Chris as he handed you your cup.

“Thank you!”

Chris nodded in acknowledgment before cleaning out the sink.

“How come nobody's ever here when I come?” You questioned, looking around the vacant shop.

“Consider yourself lucky, you come right after the rush. Between 5:30 and 8? It is hell.” Lin sighed, getting stressed just thinking about the long lines and complicated orders. Behind Lin, his coworker groaned in agreement, wiping down a cup.

“Oh, that sucks.” You sipped your drink, smiling in content at how delicious it was.

“You don’t seem to be in a rush at all, usually you jet out of here at 9:40 the latest.”

“Keeping tabs on me?” You teased, raising a brow.

Lin stumbled over his words, trying to find a good response to your question.

“I kid, I kid. I have the next few days off but I couldn’t rest so I decided to come here. It’s so calm, I like it. With the non-stop hustle of the city, you sometimes forget to just stop and breathe.” You thumbed at the lid of your coffee, watching people speed walk past the window.

“Yeah, I agree. Well take a load off, stay as long as you’d like.” Lin gestured to the many chairs in the room, giving you a warm smile.

“Don’t mind if I do.” You smiled back, wandering to the same table by the window that you sat at a few days ago.

You took out your phone, going through your different social medias as you sipped your drink.

Chris nudged Lin, nodding over to where you were sitting.

“What?” Lin mumbled, keeping his voice low so you couldn’t hear.

“Go talk to her, take an early break or something. No one is here and she has nowhere to go.” Chris whispered back, turning off the sink water.

“What would I even say to her? I can’t just… maybe she doesn’t wanna be bothered?” Lin glanced over at you before turning back to Chris.

“You owe her a drink right? I charged her, go bring her another macchiato and ask to sit with her. The worst that can happen is she says no.”

Lin thought about it for a second before deciding it wasn’t worth the rejection.

“I can’t risk it.” Lin mumbled to himself, stepping into the backroom.

You finished your drink, glancing at the door as a couple strolled into the store. Your gaze moved to the counter and you noticed Chris was alone, giving a friendly smile as he took the couple’s order. You stood up and slid your phone into your pocket. When you caught Chris’ eye you waved at him as you headed for the door.

“Have a good day, Y/N!”

“You too, Chris!”

Lin came back to the front after hearing your exit. Chris side eyed him but kept his mouth shut as he handed the couple their hot chocolates. The two worked in silence for a bit, wiping down counters and checking the machines.

“What do I do?” Lin asked, breaking the silence.

Even with no context Chris knew what he was referring to.

“Have you never had a crush before?”

“Of course I have! I just never made a move before.” Lin sighed.

He was beginning to think he was hopeless, destined to be alone and awkward for the rest of his life.

“That’s where your problem lies. You have to go for what you want, she can’t read your mind. You have to show interest.” Chris explained, taking a chocolate chip cookie from a tray near him.

Lin was quiet, letting Chris’ words sink in. He pictured himself flirting with you and you shooting him down immediately with a harsh laugh and maybe a hot latte to the face.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Chris said, cutting into Lin’s thoughts.

He knew Lin very well after over a decade of friendship. He knew every emotion and what face matched it on Lin and right now he knew Lin was imagining the worst scenario.

“The world isn’t as evil as you think. I know rejection is scary and it is always a possibility but life is a game of risk and reward. You could’ve been rejected from being a barista but that didn’t stop you from applying for this job, did it?”

Lin shook his head.

“Exactly, because the risk of being rejected was worth the reward of having an income. You just have to decide if the risk of rejection is worth the reward of Y/N.”

And with those last words, Chris took a bite into his cookie. Lin fell into deep thought over Chris’ advice. As much as he hated it, Chris was right. Is the risk worth the reward? Lin knew he had a choice to make before you came back.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Chris paused to look at Lin before he unlocked the front door of the shop and sauntered in.

“Do it?” Chris repeated, taking the chairs down from the tables.

“You know what I mean. I’m gonna try to show interest with Y/N. I have no idea how I’m gonna do it but, I will.” Lin flipped on the lights, squinting at the harsh brightness before his eyes adjusted.

“First things first, you will be taking her order from here on out. You’ll get more comfortable interacting with her.”

Lin’s heart picked up speed simply thinking about having to take your order every day but, he knew it was something he had to do.

“Okay. What else?”

“Try to find some small things to compliment her on. Maybe her shirt, smile, bag, eyes, anything that sticks out to you.” Chris unlocked the supply closet, walking in as Lin responded.

“I would stumble over my words like an idiot, you saw how I froze up the first time I saw her.”

“This coming from the guy who got me into freestyling! Lin, you are the best wordsmith I know. Once you get past the love haze in your brain, I’m sure you can get a compliment out of you.” Chris picked up the napkin dispenser, opening it to refill it.

“I don’t know…” Lin trailed off, insecurity creeping into his voice.

“What about writing it? On her cup. Short and sweet and maybe she’ll see it on her way to work and it’ll brighten her day.” Chris suggested, picking up his apron and tying it around him.

Lin smiled lightly, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, yeah that could work.”

“Just make sure you write slowly so she can read your chicken scratch.”

“You know what?” Lin threw a plastic cup at Chris who was laughing.

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Chris waved his hand dismissively at Lin and continued to power up the machines for the day.

You entered the store at 9:30 on the dot, you were on time today thankfully. Lin was the first one to lock eyes with you, he gave you a warm smile and you returned it.

“Good morning, how was the morning rush?” You asked, walking over to the counter.

“Intense, this woman dropped her latte and began to cry. To be fair it was 6 am.”

“It’s sad how much I can relate to her.”

Lin chuckled, giving you a quick onceover.

“You look really nice today.” Lin said, averting his eyes to the screen in front of him.

“Oh, thank you! I’m giving a presentation so I had to make sure I looked professional but still good. Gotta keep all eyes on me somehow.” You explained, looking at the menu to see what popped out to you this morning.

“That must be really easy for you.”

Your eyes snapped back to Lin, a blush creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. Lin kept his eyes on the screen in front of him, fiddling with a loose panel on the side of the register to keep him at ease.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you to say.”

“Just being honest.” Lin glanced at you, fighting back his smile when he noticed the slightly flustered look on your face.

“Can I have a large caramel frappe please?”

“Coming up.” Lin went to grab a cup but Chris snatched one first.

“I got this one.” Chris slyly winked at Lin and walked away to make the drink.

You walked to the pickup counter, glancing at the clock to see how much time you had left. Lin ran his fingers through his hair, weighing out his options. He could try talking to you again, he could go into the backroom or he could just stand here awkwardly and wait for more customers. He was leaning towards option two when Chris nudged him as he passed by to reach the blender. Lin raised a brow at his friend who motioned to you with his eyes. Lin made sure you weren’t paying attention before turning back to Chris.

“Talk to her.” Chris mouthed, starting up the blender.

Lin groaned softly and mustered up the courage to walk to the pickup counter.

“So, what’s the presentation about?” Lin asked, leaning on the counter.

“Every year, the CEO donates money to a charity but, she lets employees give her a presentation explaining why it should be given to whichever charity we want to represent.” You replied, taking the frappe from Chris and giving him a short thanks.

“Oh wow, that’s nice of her. Which charity did you pick?”

“VDay, it's a global activist movement that focuses on ending violence against women and girls. They have college and community campaigns to bring awareness and raise money which 90% of all donations helps make media and PSA campaigns, reopen shelters, and fund over 13,000 community-based anti-violence programs, as well as safe houses in Congo, Iraq, and Kenya. They made a community in Congo called ‘The City of Joy’ which is where women can go to heal from their traumas and I wish I could dive into it more but I have to run yet again.” You wrapped up your spiel that you rehearsed many times last night.

The clock overhead read 9:49 and missing your bus today would not be wise.

“I always end up staying here longer than I mean to, I hate to cut our conversation short but we’ll talk more tomorrow, yeah?” You flashed Lin a quick smile and started to head for the door.

“Have a good day!” You waved at both men before continuing down the block to the bus with a bit more pep in your step.

Lin stood there for a moment, looking at the door as if you were going to walk back in any second.

“She’s beautiful, smart, and aware. Also passionate, did you see the fire in her eyes as she told me about the charity? Chris, she’s amazing!” Lin gushed, an uncontrollable grin on his face.

“Alright, calm down before you start hearing wedding bells or something.” Chris chuckled, fixing the muffin display.

When Chris turned to face Lin and noticed his grin hadn’t dimmed, he raised a brow.

“You’re really smitten with her, aren’t you? You’re like… glowing right now.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m so embarrassing.” Lin covered his face, trying to control his pounding heart.

“No, no, that’s a good thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this before.”

“I made her blush. She blushed when I complimented her.” Lin recalled in disbelief.

Had he actually done something right?

“See? Already making progress. Keep it up and maybe you can take her on a date.” Chris patted his friend on the shoulder before returning to the register as more people started strolling in.

“A date?” Lin whispered to himself, picturing you in a nice dress and him picking you up to go out. Having more than a 5 to 10 minute conversation and being able to just be around each other with no coffee machines or distractions.

“Two medium iced coffees with a croissant!” Chris called out the order, reminding Lin exactly where he was.

He pushed his thoughts to the back of his head, he would return to them later.

You took it upon yourself to make it to the coffee shop 15 minutes earlier. You were partially mad at yourself for going to such extents for a cute barista, sleep was something you cherished more than anything but you willingly lost 15 minutes of it to be able to talk more with Lin. You chastised yourself as you approached the front door. You checked to make sure you looked decent before heading inside. Lin was wiping down the counter and did a double take when he saw you.

“You’re early.” He commented, tossing the washcloth into the sink.

“Keeping tabs on me again, I see.” You teased, walking to the counter and stopping in front of him.

You took the liberty of picking out an outfit the night before for casual Friday at work. You put on your best tight fitting pair of jeans and a blouse with a deep v neckline. It wasn’t much but it was something different than what Lin usually saw. When you saw Lin looking you up and down as you approached, you knew the outfit was working in your favor.

“You’re one of the highlights of the day besides clocking out of work.” Lin admitted, eyes widening when he realized what he said.

You looked down, trying to hide the grin spreading across your face.

“Is that so?” You asked, looking at him and raising a brow.

Lin laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Y-Yeah...Sorry, it just tumbled out of my mouth. My mouth gets me into a lot of trouble.” Lin rambled, eyes darting from place to place but never to your face.

“Why are you apologizing? That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard in awhile. I’m glad you enjoy me.”

“I do.” Lin confirmed, willing himself to look you in the eyes.

His eyes were such a warm shade of brown, they always had a hint of fatigue in them but they also held excitement and joy. They were quickly becoming one of your favorite things to see. Chris was silently watching from the backroom’s doorway, nodding his head in approval before stepping back inside. There was a long moment of comfortable silence, you both staring at each other, searching for something to say.

“So...what would you like?” Lin broke the silence, pointing to the sign above him.

“Large chai tea latte please.”

Lin nodded, getting to work with making your drink. You hummed along to the music playing in the shop, watching Lin move from station to station. Once he was finished, Lin held the cup out to you.

“You forgot to charge me.” You reminded him, not taking the cup from him and opening your wallet.

“This one's on me, I owe you, remember?” Lin smiled, once again pushing the cup towards you.

You looked at the cup then at Lin before caving in and taking it.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, left a little surprise on the sleeve, check it when you leave.”

“Can’t wait to see what it is.” You took a sip, humming with content.

“It’s 9:50.” Lin pointed out, nodding to the clock behind him.

“You’re a lifesaver.” You breathed out, waving quickly and exiting the stop.

You were right on time for the bus, thankfully. You slid into your seat and took another sip from your cup. Lin’s words rang in your head and you slipped off the sleeve to see handwriting inside.

“What goes up and down but never moves?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. A riddle? He left behind a riddle? You slide the sleeve back on, pondering the question you just read. You were determined to return to the shop with an answer tomorrow.

“Alright spit it out, I can’t figure it out and my pride won’t let me cheat and google the damn answer.” You said as soon as you entered the shop, striding right up to Lin.

Lin’s smirk was attractive but also infuriating.

“You sure you want me to spoil it?”

You crossed your arms, trying once again to think up an answer but coming up blank.

“Yes.”

“...Stairs.” Lin replied, laughing as you groaned loudly.

“Are you fucking kidding-” You started to yell but then took a deep breath and calmed yourself.

“I’ll leave an easier one this time.”

“No. No dumbing anything down. I’m smart, I graduated top of my class! I can handle some little riddles, bring it. Large caramel macchiato. Hit me with your best shot.” You challenged, once again letting your pride get the best of you.

Lin nodded, turning around to make the drink. You waited as he wrote on the sleeve and put it on and cup and handed it to you.

“Good luck.” “Won’t need it.” You smirked and spun around exiting the shop with your drink.

You forgot to pay for it in the midst of your rage but Lin didn’t mind, he would slip a few bucks into the register before the day was over.

“You know, when you first told me about the riddle thing I thought you were an idiot.” Chris admitted, leaning on the doorway of the supply closet.

“Gee, what a good friend.” Lin remarked sarcastically, chuckling as he adjusted his apron.

“But, I will admit when I am wrong. I was wrong, she’s into it and you’re into it and you two are actually becoming closer. A date could be in your future.” Chris smiled, patting his co-worker’s shoulder.

Lin was about to respond when Chris cut him off.

“There goes your girl now.”

Lin turned to the front and watched you walk past the window to the front door.

It’s been a little over 2 weeks since Lin gave you your first riddle. You would come with an answer (or not) and Lin would keep count of the ones you got right. You got 11 out of 14 so far and were on a winning streak. If you could answer this riddle right, it would be your 5th right answer in a row. The riddle this time was ‘The more it dries, the wetter it gets. What is it?’ and you were sure you had the answer.

“You ready for my genius answer?” You smirked, leaning on the counter.

“Lay it on me.”

“A towel.” You happily declared.

“...and the streak continues.”

You hollered in victory and Lin laughed as he marked another tally on a post-it note he kept on the wall.

“That’s right, bow down to my greatness.” You said, taking a victory lap around the shop.

“Alright, alright calm down. What would the ‘genius’ like today?” Lin rolled his eyes on the word genius and you pushed his shoulder playfully.

“Just a hot chocolate is fine, and your hardest riddle. I’m getting too good at this now.”

Lin went into the routine of making your drink, he picked up the sleeve and paused as he went to write a riddle. He chewed on his lip, nerves setting in as another idea struck him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he hurriedly wrote on the sleeve and put it on the cup.

“Good luck.”

You paused, something was off in the way Lin said that but you decided not to worry and exit for your bus. You were halfway to work when you slid off the sleeve to check out the riddle for the day. When you read through the sentence, you had to reread it multiple times to make sure you hadn’t made an error. There wasn’t any error. On the cup sleeve, in Lin’s handwriting, was a nine-word sentence.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” followed by a phone number you assumed was his.

You bit the inside of your cheek, smiling like a loon at the writing in front of you. To anyone else you looked insane but you didn’t care. You pulled out your phone and saved Lin’s number before sending him a text.

You

Hey Lin, it’s Y/N!

A minute later you received a reply.

Lin

Hey Y/N, what’s up?

You

Nothing, halfway to work, just read my riddle for the day.

Lin

Oh, that’s good.

You

I think I know the answer to this one. Is it alright if I answer early?

Lin

Whatever you want Y/N.

Lin tossed his phone to Chris.

“I can’t. I can’t look at the next text. I shouldn’t have written that, what the fuck was I thinking?” Lin groaned, running his hands down his face.

“Lin, relax. She’s been playing this back and forth game with you for 2 weeks now! She could say yes!” Chris tried to reason with Lin but Lin was already preparing for rejection.

“No, we were becoming friends Chris! Friends! And now I shoved my feelings on her and she’s gonna be uncomfortable and never come back and I’m never gonna see her again all because I-”

“She said yes.” Chris cut Lin off, waiting for him to stop rambling.

Lin froze mid sentence, turning to Chris.

“What?”

“She. Said. Yes.” Chris held the phone to Lin’s face.

You

The answer is yes. I’m 100% sure I got this one right :)

“She… she said yes… oh my god! Chris! She said yes!” Lin yelled in disbelief, a wide grin on his face.

Chris watched Lin pump his fist into the air and jump for joy. You spent the rest of the bus ride smiling to yourself. When you got off your bus to walk into your job, your phone pinged with another message.

Lin

Does next Friday work for you?

You

It’s a date.