guys please what is that

Sorry guys for doing this again but can you please comment what picture shows up as my icon (picture of mark or the Tumblr block) and please tell me if your on the mobile app or desktop. I wanna know if my icon finally shows up or not.


Please please PLEASE DON’T REFER TO ME AS A PERSON OF COLOR. It is INSULTING. I do not want to be LABELED as a POC!!!! I am HISPANIC!!! THAT’S IT!!! My skin is different but we are all people. Stop dividing us more by giving us more labels. These labels are dividing us very slowly and it is a very ugly thing. I do not want to be divided. Do not divide me. Do not refer to me as a POC. Thank you. (Same goes for calling me a minority)

Shake It Out Pt. 1

Originally posted by emilyruddlife

A/N- So this part was originally supposed to be longer, but I had so much written that I just figured you would get to meet Brett in the next chapter. This is going to be a slow burn fic, and please let me know what you guys think of this. Talk to me about the characters, the story, anything! Just message me or leave a comment. 

“And I am done with my graceless heart / So tonight I’m gonna cut it out, and then restart.”

“No! No!”
An girl with dark hair  writhed on the floor of the forest, fighting against the hands pinning her down. Fresh, cool earth filled her mouth as she screamed, choking on dirt.. “Mom, no! Don’t-get off of me! Get off! Please-”
It was dark, and warm, and a beautifully clear, spring night in the Oregon woods. It was much too beautiful for the scene going on inside of them.
Surrounded by dark shapes with no faces, another girl, not much older than the first, was in exactly the same position, except she wasn’t fighting her fate. “This isn’t your fault, Maggie.”
Her voice was broken, but accepting, and it did nothing to reassure the other.
“No!” the writhing one cried. “No, you can’t-”
She cut herself off with her own choked breath, lodging in her throat as the light in the older girl’s eyes suddenly seemed to die. It didn’t take long for Maggie’s screams to come, and as the shapes around them slowly disappeared, she found herself free of the cold hands forcing her down.
She scrambled up, darting over to the older girl on the ground. “Maya! Maya, please! Please, you can’t be… I can’t do this. I can’t-I can’t do this on my own.”
Her sobs came in short gasps, wracking her body and hollowing her chest from the inside out. She reached out with shaky fingers, not caring that her nails were caked with dirt as she placed her palm on Maya’s cheek. “Please.”
A flicker of movement in the older girl’s face caused her to blink, and the wistful ache of hope filled her chest. “Maya?”
Her hand suddenly shot up, gripping Maggie’s wrist and yanking her down. She screamed, but she couldn’t break the hold, and soon she was eye to eye with Maya’s colorless face. Her eyes were empty and accusing, and as Maggie would think later, dead.  Maya’s words came out as a sharp hiss, causing any hope Maggie had to shatter into tiny, broken pieces.
“This is your fault, Maggie. This is all your fault.”

Maggie jerked upward with a choked gasp, blinking in the light of her half-empty bedroom. Bright sunshine was shining in through the window, letting her know she was long past being on time, and if that wasn’t enough, her phone was vibrating against the nightstand.
It was one of the only things left unpacked in her room, but she didn’t plan on taking it. Quinn promised she had furniture, and the more Maggie was able to leave behind, the better.
She rubbed her eyes and shoved away the heavy covers, one of the things aside from the nightmare that had caused her to sweat in her sleep. She had been having the same one for the past three nights, and oddly enough, it was coming to her more often now than it had been when Maya first died.
She tried to remind herself that the dreams were normal, that it had only been four months, but she knew that it was probably because she was leaving.
It wasn’t like she didn’t want to go. She was escaping the terrible things that had happened in this house, but in a way, she was also leaving behind the last bit of Maya she had left- the memories they had made here.
Maggie swallowed, set her shoulders, and reached for her phone. It had stopped vibrating seconds ago, but as soon as she snatched it up, it started up again. When she picked up, the first thing she heard was “Shit!”
“Uh, hello?”
“Maggie, thank god!” a familiar voice cried. “I get that you’re tired, but I’ve been out here for fifteen minutes and I don’t have a key to get into this hellhole. Could you come down and let me in?”
“Oh god,” Maggie groaned to herself. “Quinn, I’m sorry. I’ll be right down.”
She hung up the phone and jumped out of bed, glancing down at herself. She had fallen asleep in her clothes from the night before, a pair of black shorts and a burgundy sweater, because she had been packing well into the night. She quickly dragged a fresh pair of jeans from an open box and threw them on, then headed into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She didn’t bother with makeup, knowing Quinn was waiting.
Then she bounded down the steps and wrenched open the door, only to be slammed into by what felt like a car. When she recovered, stumbling back a few steps, she realized what had hit her was Quinn.
Maggie brushed strands of Quinn’s blonde hair from her mouth, and smiled at her aunt, who ran her hands over Maggie’s own hair. “God, I haven’t seen you since you were ten.”
Maggie swallowed, remembering all too well the last time she had seen her aunt, which was at her father’s funeral. Quinn pulled back a little, her smile wavering. She was young, younger than Maggie’s mom had been, but she wore the weight of everything she had seen in her expression. When that brilliant smile wasn’t plastered across her face, you could tell that she was much more than just a woman with a pretty face.
“I’m sorry, Maggie, about…well, everything. I don’t know if I got a chance to tell you that before. All this death and tragedy, it’s why I left. Maybe if I had stayed…maybe I could have looked out for you girls.”
You girls. Quinn was right about the tragedy and death, and at her words, a shard of pain that had been lodged in Maggie’s chest since her father died seemed to dig deeper. Her sister’s death had only made it worse, and, surprisingly, even her mother’s had seemed to knock the wind out of her.
“It’s done,” Maggie said softly. “I just can’t be here anymore.”
“Of course,” Quinn said softly. “I have some empty boxes outside. Well, I had them before I dropped them all over the porch, just in case you need-”
“I’m all packed.”
Quinn blinked, looking at her skeptically with the same blue eyes that mirrored Maggie’s. It was a Monnoyer thing.
“Everything I need,” she promised. “It’s not much, but you said you had furniture…”
“I do,” Quinn assured her. “And don’t worry, if you need something, we can pick it up in Beacon Hills.”
“I really appreciate this,” Maggie breathed. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Quinn reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “You’re family, kiddo…the only decent family I’ve had in a long time. You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you rot in this place.”
She peered into the rest of the house, as if she was noticing it for the first time, and Maggie watched as her shoulders stiffened. From the cold look her eyes suddenly took on, Maggie knew she and Maya weren’t the only ones who had made some terrible memories there.
“Besides,” Quinn continued, her expression lighting up again. “I need someone else to fill the space in my house. Sampson’s great, but conversation isn’t exactly his forte.”
Maggie’s lips turned up. “Sampson? He’s still alive?”
“Alive and kicking,” Quinn confirmed. “I’ve never met a more stubborn dog in my life. He might outlive me.”
Sampson was Quinn’s twelve-year old German Shepherd, and back when Maggie’s dad was still alive and Quinn would visit, she would always bring him with her. She had never met a dog as loving and sweet as Sampson, and she had never looked forward to being knocked to the ground so much as she had when she was knew she was going to be hit by 75 pounds of dog.
“Did you bring him?”
Quinn shook her head. “He’s back in Beacon Hills. I had one of Satomi’s kids watch him for a couple hours.”
“I’m her emissary,” Quinn explained.
“That’s what you’ve been doing all this time?” Maggie asked, blinking.
Quinn nodded, gathering up the boxes she had dropped and tossing them inside the door. Maggie walked out to help her, listening intently as Quinn told her story.
“I tried mercenary work for a while after I left Salem. I didn’t have many other skills if you know what I mean. That was what landed me in Beacon Hills, but when I got there, I realized that I’d rather help people than hurt them. I worked as a vet assistant for an older emissary for a while, and when your grandparents died, I inherited one of the houses they owned.”
“They had a house in Beacon Hills?”
“They did,” Quinn confirmed. “And I never even knew, but I somehow ended up there anyway. Life has a weird way of coming together.”
“Yeah,” Maggie muttered. “Tell me about it.”
“Anyway, the vet-his name was Alan-introduced me to Satomi. She was living  right outside of Beacon Hills, and she had just adopted a brother and sister whose family was murdered in a house fire.”
“House fire…” Maggie murmured. “The Hale House fire?”
Quinn shook her head. “That was something different, but Kate Argent probably set this one too. She’s responsible for much more than the media gave her credit for.”
Maggie tilted her head. Kate Argent had become a horror story among hunters, one that they told their children to scare them into following the code. Terrible things happen when you stray from the code, she remembered her mother telling her when she was twelve. There are so many different types of monsters, Maggie. Her mother had neglected to mention that she was one too. Every hunting family had a code, and while there were small differences, every one said pretty much the same thing. Maggie doubted that the Argent’s included a provision for setting fire to innocent families.
“Satomi took Brett and Lori in after the fire,” Quinn continued. “Brett’s your age, and Lori’s thirteen. They’re great kids, although Brett can be…”
Maggie raised her eyebrows as Quinn bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, you’ll see when you meet him. You ready to start packing up?”
Maggie blinked, contemplating all the things Quinn could possibly mean by ‘you’ll see’. She didn’t exactly love the idea of walking into something blind, but meeting family friends was a lot different than preparing for a fight. It’s probably not a big deal, she thought to herself. Stop thinking like a hunter, Maggie.
“Yeah,” she told Quinn, glancing throughout the house. Her eyes roamed across the walls, where the family pictures had hung before her mother took them down six years ago. They stopped on the stairs, which Maya had dared her to somersault down when she was seven, and broken her arm in the process.
Finally, her eyes settled on the bit of the kitchen she could see from the entryway, remembering the way she had leaned against the cabinets, sobbing with Maya’s arms around her as she tried to come to terms with the fact that her father was dead.
“Yeah,” Maggie repeated. “I’m ready.”Maggie jogged up the steps, ready to grab the last few boxes from Quinn and load them into her Jeep Cherokee. It was an older car, probably from the early 2000s, but as Quinn had told her earlier “It gets me around.”
“Besides,” she added. “I have a Camry too.”
Quinn popped her head out of Maggie’s bedroom, which was empty, aside from the bed, the nightstand, and the last two boxes of her things. “Are you sure this is all you wanna take?”
“I’m sure,” Maggie assured her.
“What about this?” Quinn asked, gesturing to the wall.
“Quinn,” Maggie said, her lips tilting up. “I don’t think I need a Twilight poster.”
“Oh, so werewolves were off limits, but vampires were free game, huh?” she asked, grinning.
“It was a phase,” Maggie said defensively. “Plus, it’s covered in knife marks anyway.”
“Edward must have really hurt you if you practiced your throwing on his eyes,” Quinn remarked.
Maggie stuck her tongue out in Quinn’s direction and scooped up one of the boxes. She headed out the door and hurried down the stairs, aching to finally leave. She had been nervous for weeks about going to live with her aunt, because even though she had met her, she hadn’t really known her all that well.
After Quinn left the hunting game, Maggie’s grandparents had basically disowned her, and the only person from the family who occasionally talked to her had been her dad. After he died, Quinn had given Maggie and her sister her email, and they talked secretly every few weeks. Their mother would have been furious, but she never found out, and when every terrible thing started happening at once, Quinn was there for Maggie.
She had wanted an escape, and even though she had only known her aunt from a handful of childhood visits and countless email correspondences, Quinn was ready to offer her one. After all, Quinn had done the same thing, and she had told her that her only regret was that she hadn’t be able to do it sooner.
Now Maggie was getting her escape, and for the first time, she felt excitement jolt through her, running throughout her body like electricity. She was getting the chance to be someone else, somewhere else, and the possibilities of what could be were infinite.
She crossed through the front door and breathed in the cool, fall air, letting it lift away her fear for a few brief seconds. She bounded down the steps, feeling a small smile curl onto her lips, but as she walked down the driveway, she froze. The cardboard box fell from her hands, thumping on the concrete as she caught sight of the dark SUV parked in front of her house.
The figure leaning against it caused her hands to curl into fists and her nails to bite into her palms, and Maggie bristled with rage. Memories flashed through her head, memories of blood, and bruises, and cold hands pinning her down onto the forest floor.
“Maggie,” he said, heading toward her.
“Stay away from me, Riley,” she spat, her voice shaking.
“Maggie, come on-”
“I told you never to come near me again,” she snarled, bracing herself as he walked forward.
He rolled his dark, green eyes, and continued to walk forward,  not bothered by her threats. They had been friends once, years ago, and at one point she had been grateful they had been born into the same type of life.
Riley’s dad was second in command in the large group of hunters that resided throughout Salem. He was a strong guy, and while not as ruthless as Maggie’s mom had been, his cruel tendencies had been passed down to his son.
Riley was protective, and dedicated, but when it came to hunting, and especially Maggie, he had always taken things too far. She remembered all the times in middle school when she had to break up fights where he was beating someone into a bloodied pulp, not even because she wanted to, but because the only person he would stop for was her.
Everything between them changed after her father died, and Maggie no longer wanted anything to do with the hunters, or Riley, but he had different ideas. He was still hellbent on making her what he thought she should be, and even after the death of her sister, even after what he had done, he just couldn’t let things lie.
“Mags,” he said, his voice wounded. “We’re practically family.”
“Don’t call me that.”
She reached up to shove him away, but he caught one of her wrists and yanked him toward her. “You can’t just leave, Mags. This is your whole life. What are you going to do without this? Without us? Huh?”
His fingers dug into her wrist, forceful enough to bruise the skin, and Maggie felt something inside of her snap. She brought her free hand up, slamming her fist into his nose, and reveled at the crack she heard.
Riley yelped and let go of her, but as Maggie started to back away, he darted forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. She gasped as her slammed her into Quinn’s car, her back pressing up against the red metal doors.
“You can’t leave,” he hissed again, blood dripping from his nose. “You’re a hunter, Maggie. This is who you are.”
Maggie felt a shock of fear run through her. Riley had taken things too far before, during training sessions, and that one terrible night four months ago, but never like this. She had grown up with him, with his family, and he wouldn’t have been acting like this unless he was pissed, really pissed.
“You were supposed to be the leader,” he continued. “It was supposed to be you, and I was supposed to be your second. It was supposed to be us, Maggie.”
She gritted her teeth and shoved against him, her voice dripping with venom. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I was never going to be the leader. I was never going to stay.”
“No,” he insisted, his eyes wild and angry. “You were always supposed to stay.”
Maggie tried to break away from him, shoving against his chest, his shoulder, but he simply grabbed her wrists and pinned them by her sides. He leaned closer, and Maggie could feel his breath on her face. His shadow swallowed hers in the late morning light, and she hated the way he made her feel-helpless, cowardly, and defeated.
“Hey! Get the hell off my niece!”
Maggie didn’t hear Quinn’s sharp intake of breath as she stepped out onto the porch or the sound the box in her hands created as it fell into the grass, but she did hear her yell. Riley jumped and looked back, but his grip on Maggie only slightly loosened.
She took the opportunity to shove him away, and he stumbled back in surprise as she backed toward the porch.
He made a move like he was going to go after her, but Quinn strode down the steps and came to stop by Maggie’s side. “Listen to me, Riley Durand. Stay away from my niece, or I’m going to break something your daddy can’t fix. It looks like she already did.”
Riley bristled, but then he took a breath and ran a hand through his light brown hair. He looked away from Quinn, his gaze settling on Maggie. “You know they say that when you run from the past, it splits in two. One part dies, and the other walks with you*.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Maggie asked suspiciously.
“You can’t just run away from this. You’ll realize that eventually.”
Quinn glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, and Riley finally backed off. With one last piercing look toward Maggie, he walked back to his car and peeled away from the curb.
“That kid seriously needs therapy,” Quinn remarked, glancing over at Maggie. “Are you alright?”
Maggie nodded shakily. “Yeah. Thank you.”
Without another word, she headed back toward the house.
“These are the last ones,” Quinn called, pointing toward the boxes.
“I know,” Maggie said. “I just need to do one last thing.”Maggie walked up the steps slowly, running her hand over the wood of the banister. She trailed her fingers along it as she walked up to the second floor, remembering all the times she and Maya had slid down it with fits of laughter echoing around them. That had been a long time ago.
As she got to the top, she turned down the hall, but she didn’t go into her bedroom. Instead, she walked past it and headed down to a room at the end of the hall. Her mother had cleaned it out four months ago, almost directly after Maya had died.
Maggie remembered how she had screamed when she popped her head in and saw her mom throwing all of Maya’s things into boxes. It had only been three days.
Her mother had ignored Maggie’s protests, but decided not to touch the pictures that still hung above Maya’s stripped bed. She reached out to run her fingers over their glossy surface, listening to the soft sound it made in the silence of the empty house.
There were pictures of Maya with her friends and with Maggie, some of them from when they were kids, but a few that were recent. Her favorite was from the day Maya had passed her EMT course, and in it Maggie was leaning against her, arms around her sister in her new uniform. It had only been a year ago, but she remembered how happy they had both been, even with everything going on.
Maya was the one who had protected her her whole life. She was the one who was right there, through everything, until she wasn’t anymore. Maggie took a deep breath and felt tears pricking her eyes, but she reached forward and snagged the picture from the clothespin Maya had hung it up with. She spared it one more glance, then she tucked it into her back pocket, and headed out the door. 

*Riley’s words here are from a quote by Camille Rankin.


George Bush trying to put on a rain Mac was the only part of the Inauguration worth watching


Creature studies

Asked you about your favourite beasts the other day for inspiration, and inspired I was, indeed. Occamy, Ashwinder, Demiguise and Niffler!
Art blog: questionartbox

  • somebody: wow! such a nice and warm weather, it feels like spring!
  • me: nice
  • me, muttering under my breath: shut the fuck up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's JANUARY it's not supposed to be this warm yet!!!!!!!!!!! global warming is HERE and our cold snowy beautiful winters are forever history!!!!!! yet we are doing NOTHING about the case!!!!!!!! and even if we did something trump is the president of united states now and he's going to FUCK everything UP because his climate decisions will affect EVERYBODY!!!ON!THIS!PLANET! this weather is not _NICE AND WARM___ WHAT THE FUCKKK it's the awaiting HELLFIRE THAT'S RADIATING HEAT UPON US SO SHUT UP
The sun
  • Chris: you know my dick has a lot in common with the sun
  • Victor: why? Because nobody likes to look directly at it?
  • Yuuri: because it gives people cancer?
  • Phichit: it rises at the crack of dawn?
  • Michele: it disappears at night?
  • Seung: direct exposure to it often leads to nasty sunburns?
  • Yurio: it needs to stay approximately 92,960,000 miles away from me?
  • Otabek: nobody will ever touch it?
  • Chris: gee thanks you guys! You're all such supportive friends!
  • Victor: we try
  • Everyone: *grunting in agreement*
All Too Well (M) | Pt. 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. But two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut; Idol & Makeup Artist AU
Word Count: 6,061
Author’s Note: I always wanted to try my hand on a Yoongi chapter story, and then I saw this prompt on tumblr and decided to go with it. I also want to note up ahead that I’m not super familiar with how the recruiting process for Kpop groups go and my knowledge only extends to really quick skims of articles just to get the basis. Regardless, I hope I can get to more parts, so let me know what you think.

also idk if this should be considered a prologue or a part 1 but oh well im just leaving it as part 1


You suppose that it all starts and ends with a letter.

Dear Mr. Min Yoongi,” Your boyfriend reads across the kitchen counter, fingers curling tightly around the paper in his hands, eyes blown wide with a gaze depicting such rare intensity that you’ve actually stopped fixing your morning coffee just to catch a sight of his expression. You can’t entirely place the feeling weighing itself into your stomach, so you settle with staring at him and trying to keep your own facial features as neutral as possible. “We are pleased to inform you that you have passed the final audition at our label and therefore are officially recruited into our newest group Bangtan Boys. You are going to be one of seven other boys joining our label as trainees and we are excited to finally bring everyone together to prepare for debut. Although training won’t officially start until next week, we ask that you come to the studio tomorrow morning to meet the other members as well as be prepped on our expectations and scheduling. We wish to congratulate you on your hard work and look forward to getting to know you more in the coming years. Sincerely, Big Hit Studios.”

When Yoongi doesn’t react immediately to the positive news, you flicker your gaze up to study him. His eyes, once again, are scanning the paper, quicker and quicker with each line as if he didn’t read it or hear it correctly the first time around. His eyes have grown to the size of saucers at this point, and you would have thought him to be a statue had it not been for the rather loud inhales and exhales coming from the boy. The sight itself would have been rather comical had it not been for the context behind the stare.

So you try for a gentle smile, leaning a little on the counter to try and further gauge his expression. “Yoongi?” You inquire softly, reaching a hand across the space to run your hand along his shoulder blade. “Baby, are you alright?”

Yoongi blinks, snapping himself out of his trance as he shifts his gaze from the letter to you, back to the letter, and back to you. “I did it?” He whispers, the statement sounding more like a question above anything else and you find your lips curling up into a fond smile in light of Yoongi’s confusion—even though he was the one to read the letter multiple times, running over the words in his own mind repeatedly.

Keep reading

maybe i’m asking for too much but if “it devours” also manages to tell us how carlos fell in love with cecil from his own point of view i will literally leave this plane of existence and subsequently reach nirvana

How Dan and phil probably broke up #26
  • Dan: what's the devil's surname?
  • Phil: West

I’ve been thinking about ???% a bit lately so now I just have this disconnected scenario/AU/headcanons where it’s this powerful spirit that befriended Mob as a child and subtly possessed him, like Dimple did with Ritsu, so Unkown could slowly hone Mob into the perfect vessel. Except the plan backfired b/c now Unkown really cares about this poor kid and knows it Fucked Up by accidently hurting Ritsu, so now it’s more of a guardian spirit/psychic backup generator for him.

I really like the idea of Unknown physically crawling out of Mob horror movie-style the first time it leaves his vessel since it’s been inside Mob for like, ten years, so now it’s almost a part of him (it’s still safe for it to leave tho, Mob just gets a little dizzy afterwards and the depossession gets less extreme over time). I imagine it’d be forced to come out during an event where Mob’s chance of dying is Very High and there’s no way in hell Mob’ll be persuaded/is physically capable of taking care of the problem himself. Obviously Ritsu and Teru are very nervous around it (and Mob was convinced it was just an imaginary friend he used to have), but ???% gives them space and tries to make it clear it was sorry for hurting them. No one really fully trusts it except Mob in the end.

???% can’t speak (at least not any human language), so it primarily writes things down and draws diagrams. When asked who/what it is, ???% just writes the word “protection” so Mob and Ritsu start referring to it as Hogo instead of “that thing” or “the spirit.”

hello, i’m erin.

i’m really poor, my family is financially unstable all the time because my parents have walking/moving disabilities and it’s hard for them to find proper jobs since they can barely move. lately we’ve been having major financial problems. 

they both used to work until the thing i was afraid of happened; my diabetic mom’s health condition started getting worse and worse. she couldn’t handle the pressure and the bullying at work so she had to quit her job. her health is the main priority in this entire thing so i don’t blame her at all.

as for now, my father is the only source of income. his monthly salary is $150 and as you can see that’s far from enough to maintain three people. i’ve tried to get a job myself but no one wanted to hire me because i’m a minor. 

for the past few months my mom’s illness has been progressing, we even got her a wheelchair since she couldn’t walk at all. she needs a damn expensive diabetic healthcare course right now. my father works day and night just to gain some money. also, i contributed with my savings even though it wasn’t much.

however, our efforts are not enough for my mom’s medical assurance. the amount of money we have by now can provide only half a month of medicines. my dad is working all the time he doesn’t even sleep at this point, it’s a miracle if he gets at least 2 hours of sleep a day. but unfortunately it’s never enough.

i feel pathetic and useless; the tears are streaming down my face as i’m typing this and the fact that i can’t help in any way is killing me.

only money can help us in this harsh situation so if you can donate i’ll be forever thankful. 

if you can, do it through paypal. my paypal email is;

any amount will be highly appreciated, i’m not asking for much, really. also reblog this please, it does matter and i hope i’ll find people who can help.

it’s totally okay if you don’t donate, just keep my mom in your prayers please, it means a lot.

i’m desperate please help, i don’t want to lose my mother. 

thank you.

Broadway (part one)

*Alexander x reader x Lin
*Word count: 2075 (I would’ve written more but I have homework whoopS)

Summary: Alexander somehow appears backstage at the Richard Rodgers Theatre in reader’s dressing room while she’s getting ready for the show (she plays Eliza) and she has to struggle and hide him while figuring out how to get him back to his original time… It doesn’t help that she may or may not have a huGE crush on Lin, either.

A/N: I might turn this into a series, tell me what you guys think, I think someone has written something similar to this before but idk I was listening to Lin’s playlist he made for writer’s block and I just got this idea?? (By the way there are really great songs on that playlist, if you haven’t listened to it, I suggest you do, so here you go: )

Warnings: love triangle (???) ,, swearing ,,, uh nothing unusual


It had been an average day at Richard Rodgers Theatre, you were currently getting ready for the afternoon show, running a hand through your hair with a content sigh. Today, you were making your broadway debut at Eliza Schuyler-Hamilton after Pippa had left the show, the wide smile never leaving your face as you got the news from both Lin and Pippa, claiming they both thought you’d be perfect for the role.

But, to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were about to make your Broadway debut as your dream role, Eliza Schuyler-Hamilton.

You stared at yourself in the large mirror, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, you looked so different as you tried to get around the fact that women actually wore corsets everyday, how they did it was crazy. You continued admiring yourself when there was a knock at the door, knocking you out of your trance as you yelled out for them to come in, and in walked Lin with a bouquet of pink roses, a cheesy grin never leaving his face as he presented them to you.

“Well hello there, my dear wife,” Lin smirked, handing you the roses, “here’s some roses for your Broadway debut.” You blushed, taking the roses and smiling up at him in gratitude, before setting them down on your vanity and stepping up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, my dear husband,” you joked, the smile never leaving your face as you suddenly noticed a pink tint to his face, trying to ignore it. It meant nothing. You thought to yourself, shaking your head.

It was silent for a few minutes before he looked around the room a bit, letting out a breath, “well, I’m gonna go finish getting ready, I’ll see you out there, gorgeous.” He winked playfully, before excusing himself and leaving the room, closing the door behind you.

After he was gone, you turned your attention back to the pink roses on your vanity, letting out a quiet squeal at the mere thought of him getting them for you, even though it meant absolutely nothing but a symbol of friendship. You tried to shake that thought off though, not wanting it to bum you out right before you went on stage.

The five minute call soon echoed, telling everyone to get in their places and get ready. You let out a sigh, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. You could do this. You’ve worked your entire life for this moment and you weren’t going to throw away your shot. You snorted at the Hamilton pun, chuckling a bit before adding some last finishing touches when-


You frowned at the sound, setting down the lipstick tube you were using and looking around the room, your eyebrows furrowing when you heard a soft groan of pain somewhere in the room. “What in the hell..” You thought to yourself, walking towards the direction of the sound slowly and when you reached the source, you grew even more confused. What the hell was Lin doing in your room - better yet, how the hell did he get in here without you noticing?

“Lin, how the hell did you get in here,” you wondered aloud, reaching down so you were face to face with the groaning man. When he didn’t answer, you scoffed, shaking your head. “Lin, come on, we have to get to places.” You muttered, gripping Lin by the hand so you can lift him up, which made him finally open his eyes and furrow his brows.

“E-Eliza?” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Lin, I get your trying to get into Hamilton’s headspace or something, but you don’t need to call me Eliza.” The man’s frown deepened as he shook his head, “who is Lin?” You turned back to face him, letting out a frustrated sigh, “Lin, this isn’t the time for jokes. We gotta go-” You paused as you took in his outfit… It was bloody, and looked very… realistic for a costume.

“I’m afraid I do not know who this Lin is, Eliza, what are you talking about?” He spoke, standing with a firm posture, no emotion except confusion evident on his features. You frowned, “hang on, what year do you think this is?” Please don’t let this be like one of those cheesy fanfictions I’ve read.. You begged mentally as he thought for a moment before answering, “uh… 1776?” You groaned, running a hand through your hair, “oh god… No, no, no, please tell me you’re not actually Alexander Hamilton. Lin, come on, you gotta be joking, right?” You begged, looking up at him with widened eyes.

He sighed, shaking his head. “Look, ms, I do not know who you are-” “Y/n Y/l/n” you stated, cutting him off which made him widen his eyes. “Don’t you know not to cut someone off when they are speaking, Ms. Y/l/n?” You groan. “Because that is extremely disrespectful.” You were about to speak when the speakers went off again, calling for everyone to take their places. “Look, Mr. Hamilton, I gotta go… Just stay here, k? I’ll be back in a bit..” You paused, “and whatever you do, do not leave this room.” You said pointedly, narrowing your eyes at the surprised man who just nodded his head quickly.

You let out a light sigh, turning around and picking up your skirts so you could quickly rush out the door, closing it immediately behind you.

“You ready?” You heard a familiar voice behind you, making you jump and turn around to see Daveed, the similar cheeky grin he was always wearing, “y-yeah..” You breathed, nodding your head quickly. “Just nervous.”

Your attention was taken elsewhere when you heard Leslie start speaking:

“How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore…”


You let out a smile as you glided off the stage after that would be enough , thanking your castmates as they let out whoops and congratulations for you.

“You’re doing great, Y/n,” You heard from behind you, which made you turn around to see Jazzy and Renee, standing there with the same smile on their faces. You smiled back, pulling them into a group hug and letting out a soft squeal, “I can’t believe I’ve made it through half of act one!” You cheered, pulling away with the largest smile you could ever muster, before it faded as you remembered who was waiting in your dressing room. Alexander Hamilton. “Hey guys, I’m gonna go change, I’ll be right back.” You said, which was partially true, but you mainly just wanted to make sure Alexander didn’t decide to escape and wasn’t wandering around the theatre. God forbid that ever happened.

“Alexander?” You called softly as you stepped into the dressing room to see the man, who looked identical to Lin, sitting on the couch reading his biography. “God dammit,” you cursed softly, which apparently didn’t go unnoticed to the man. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to say such vile words?” He asked, looking up from the book. You rolled your eyes and made your way over to sit by him on the couch, “listen, Hamilton,” you paused, before continuing. “If you’re going to be here for awhile, we’re gonna have to get you caught up.” Your eyes lowered down to the biography in his hands. “And that certainly doesn’t include you reading your own biography.” You muttered, shaking your head.

He frowned before looking back at you, a pout that was similar to Lin’s - stop thinking about Lin. as he watched you take the biography from his grip. “Listen,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, how were you going to do this? It wasn’t like you could take him out there in front of everyone in risk of everyone seeing Lin’s fucking twin.

“I gotta change,” you continued, which made him smirk. “Please, don’t let me stop you.” He winked, making you scoff and slap him lightly, “shut up and turn around. And if you turn around even a little bit,” you threatened, your voice lowering, “I will make sure you regret it.” He sighed, “fine.” He muttered, turning around and crossing his arms.

I also gotta find him a change of spare clothes, you thought to yourself, looking around the room for something he could wear, and of course, there was nothing. You sighed, peeling the dress of of you slowly to change into your new one, setting the old dress on the rack and putting on the new dress, letting out a huff at the uncomfortable corset.

Once you were done, you told him he could turn around, which he happily did, complaining about how sick of standing he was. You rolled your eyes and shushed him, before telling him to stay here as you got ready for your cue in Tomorrow there will be more of us, grabbing the fake piece of paper to glide out on stage, smiling at Leslie softly as he walked off the stage.

You let out a deep breath, before opening your mouth to speak..



You felt your throat tighten as you watched from the side-lines of Say no to this, knowing Jazzy would never actually do this, nor would Lin, and besides, it’s not like it would matter, you guys weren’t together. You sighed, watching as Jazzy walked off the stage and gave you a reassuring smile, because she was one of the only ones who knew about your crush.

The time seemed to flow by until burn finally arrived, the familiar tune playing as you made your way on stage slowly, sitting on the bench as you stared down at the props in front of you.

“I saved every letter you wrote me…”


It was finally the end of the show, and you had tears streaming down your face as you watched the song where Lin died take place, even though you had seen it a million times as the fill in bullet, playing it as Eliza made it 10x more painful to watch.

You took a bow, smiling and wiping away the tears as Lin stepped forward to thank the crowd, then coming back to you guys and motioned for a group hug, the whole cast laughing and forming a group crowd in front of the cheering audience.

After everyone pulled away and walked off stage, you immediately headed to your dressing room, promising the cast you’d be right back and not telling them the reason why you wandered off so quickly. It was to check up on a goddamn founding father.

“Alexander? Okay good, you didn’t wander off,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling slightly as you wiped away remaining tears. “I could hear everyone performing from here, it sounded really good,” he smiled softly, making you nod your head in thanks before looking around.

“Okay well, I’m going to try and get you out of here as discretely as possible and get you back to my apartment so you can change… Uh, what else?” You thought before letting out a soft aha! And opened your mouth to speak again when~

“Hey Y/n, you alright? You seemed to- What the fuck.” You gulped as you looked between Lin and Alexander, your eyes widening in fear.

Oh shit.

jikook @ isac last year: hey everyone *blushes* we’re gay


someone: oh my god were you CRYING???

me, not even 4 minutes after a full on breakdown: