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purplelupins · 2 years ago

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The Grabber/Albert Shaw Headcanons

Sfw & Nsfw

These are in no order and simply my interpretation of the blank canvas that is Albert Shaw.

If you are a minor DO NOT ENGAGE. If you are offended or triggered by the mentioned material, DO NOT ENGAGE. Simple as that. Please note that I do not condone what the Grabber has done in cannon, and I am just interpreting his character from a psychological standpoint. If you message me with negativity or harassment, I will not respond. This is Tumblr, not Twitter. Please block the Grabber x reader tag if you are disgusted.

General life

•Prior to Albert being born, his father drank a great deal which he picked up from his father having served in the First World War. But when Albert’s mother told him to stop drinking or she would leave him. She was a strong minded woman.

•Albert’s dad named him

•Albert was an only child until he was eight. He was always close with his mother who took interest in him. She encouraged him and listened to his interests and hobbies.

•I think he liked working with his hands- carving things out of wood, basic magic he had picked up from a book he bought himself with his allowance money his mother gave him, but his father didn’t know about. maybe even drawing at some point? He would make her little gifts and she would display them.

•I think he really loved slight of hand that comes with magic, and I think over the years he got quite good at it mainly to take things or mess with his father.

•Everything had changed when his brother, Max, was born. Their mother fell ill shortly after giving birth to Max, and she passed away within a week. It was a sudden and huge loss. She was the only thing standing between Albert and his father.

•It was left up to Albert to look after baby Max, while his father began drinking again.

•Because of this, Albert is actually very good with children.

•Then the beatings started. It started slow: his father would slap him and whip him over his pants, but he did it down in the basement because they couldn’t wake max.

•Because Albert hadn’t experienced the beating from a young age, he was more fearful of them than if he had always had them. As an eight year old, he had rational thinking abilities and would try and run away from home, but his father would always catch him. Sometimes he would be waiting for him with a glass of room temperature whiskey because he didn’t have the patience to cool it.

• When Albert was 13, his father went off to serve in the war. He was gone for two years with no contact, leaving Arthur and Max alone with a friend of his father’s and his family.

•This friend of his father’s sexually abused him for those two years.

•When his father returned, he was no longer the same. His morals were null, and he barely had an off switch when it came to abuse. His PTSD made him reckless with hurting Albert, even humiliating him in town when they got groceries.

•The adrenaline his father had experienced in the war left him always looking for ways to replicate it, and so he started playing sadistic games with Albert, which would become Naughty Boy. The only difference was that Albert wanted his father to kill him, but he never did.

•Albert is very tidy because of his father. (In the Film I think his house was messy because of Max and it drove him CRAZY)

• Albert is very smart and a very quick thinker.

• He did okay in school; he would have done so much better if it weren’t for his stressful, abusing home life and the trauma he went through. But because of his life, he didn’t get the best grades.

•He started working at a young age at the hardware store. That way he could get supplies to start wood carving again like his mother had loved, and he could save up to leave.

•During one of the beatings when Albert was older, he fought back against his father which lead to breaking his fathers leg. He became addicted to pain killers, and drank himself to death at a young age, and Albert was given the house.

•As he grew older, he couldn’t keep relationships and grew angry and afraid that no one would ever like him let alone love him.

•Max fucked off as a young man and honestly had a fairly normal life. Albert did love Max in some way, even with his idiotic mind, purely because he raised him.

• Albert did everything in his power to give Max a normal childhood. He helped him with his homework and went to his sports games. But he didn’t do it for Max. He did it because Max is all he has left of his mother and he looks like her.

•Fear was something he lived off for so long inside himself, that he sought out comfort. Comfort came in the form of his family home. He would try and remember his mother there instead of the bad memories, but he would have vivid nightmares of his father. Once he even had one so strong he destroyed the inside of his house looking for his dead father because he was certain he had come back from the dead.

•His job paid well and he even bought the house across the street to move into. Close to his old home but far enough that he didn’t have to live in the trauma.

•His first girl friend was late in life and did not end well. She cheated on him and when he confronted her…he lost his temper and strangled her. It horrified him, and he buried her body in the basement of the house he bought. Already tainting it before he could move in and start fresh.

•In the late 60’s and early 70’s he started to see more and more reports of these multiple murderers and freak kidnappings on the news. He noticed how most of them were cold cases and the investigations would be dropped after months or a year. He got this strange sort of itch.

• the thought festered for a year.

•He wanted to do that too. He saw how invested people were in those cases, and he wanted to be a part of that.

• For the next several years, he soundproofed the basement, and began to really let his mind go. He found his old carving supplies and began making those masks to take charge of the trauma he went through.

•It was his turn to be in charge.

•And from then on, the Grabber was born.

The following is more pertinent to my fic Sweet Dreams, but you’re still welcome to read them as general headcannons. There are NSFW ones below.

•Because of raising Max, he does have a paternal streak(even if it is morbid) so he does enjoy caring for someone.

•He’s very polite to woman and children (he will make faces at little kids especially little girls if hes in town. They giggle.) but gruffer with men.

•Outside of his home, he’s generally quiet and keeps to himself. Quite a few locals know him because of living there so long.

•Terrible temper. This is a given. It’s like a light switch. On and off in an instant.

•This man is STRONG. He works with his hands and lifting boxes and equipment all day. He’s lean but he can take down almost anyone, especially when he’s angry.

• Pervert. Will take your panties. Will not give them back. But will buy you new ones. Loves it when you don’t wear any under your clothes at home.

• If you’re in a relationship with him, it is his goal to have fucked you on every surface.

•He washes you. He dries you. He dresses you. No other option.

•Has an innocence kink: having not had anyone to care for him for most of his life, he now takes a lot of pleasure and validation from caring for someone else.

•This kink is more about having you rely on him for everything.

•Plus having you dependant on him is the goal.

•He needs you to be dependant. He soaks it up.

•Control Control control. This man needs to be the one in control at all times after having no control for so long.

•Call him Sir or Master on the regular and he’s gone…call him daddy and he’s feral. I think he will only entertain the daddy aspect if he’s not kidnapping, and he’s comfortable (as he can be) with whoever he’s fucking. It can be used against him if he’s not comfortable with the person because it could be a way of saying “You’re like your father.” Which is what he hates most. BUT! If the person uses it in a way where it means “You’re in control, I’m yours to do with what you will.” Then I think he loves it. It goes with his innocence kink too.

•Calling him daddy helps him to reclaim the title and give it a different meaning…so it’s actually a bit healing.

•Sadism, fear play, bondage. He loves seeing that flash of fear in your eyes. He loves tying you up. He loves inflicting pain until you’re weeping in his arms.

•Albert loves seeing you when he fucks you. He needs to see what he does to you(fear, hatred, pain, love, pleasure etc) he likes to see your skin too so chances are he’ll rip your clothes off before sex

•Somnophilia. Especially if he’s fucked you for so long and you pass out and he keeps going.

• Condescending praise aka degradation (not towards him)

•Will pet your hair and hold you close after you’re done.

•Kiss this man’s skin. Please.

•He’s hesitant with kisses on the mouth but if he keeps you around long enough he might warm up to them.

•He loves it when you miss him and hug him when you see him after a long day.

•He knows he shouldn’t have children. He’s terrified of ruining his own child’s life.

•Deep Self hatred, hence the masks.

•If you want him to take it off, you need to be patient. Wait until he starts with coming with half masks more often…then see if he’ll work up to no mask.

•Likes having the mask on during sex even if he doesn’t wear it around you anymore. It gives him more power.

•Is unable to love, but he will obsess over you enough that is resembles a toxic love. He will want to possess you (go back to you being dependent on him) he wants to be your world.

#the grabber x reader #the grabber #the black phone 2022 #the black phone #albert shaw #headcanon #head canon

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absinthe-and-abstinence · 3 years ago

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An Unhealthy Obsession: Chapter 19

A Heart-to-Heart, and an Eye-to-Eye

TW: yelling, reckless driving, language, slight (?) non-consensual activity, partial nudity, and biting-ish?

Aw, man! You all have been amazing readers, and I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story so far. I didn't think I'd really get a pair of eyes on this; the fact it's getting as popular as it is getting is unbelievable to me. Thank you all. More content is coming your way, and that means more answers, and more questions. I'm always available on Tumblr or my Twitter as well. Thank you all, and enjoy. X

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You yelled as you raced down the highway, afraid that the interstate cameras might catch your plate and you.

“Why didn’t you leave with them? You had the chance!”

He hadn’t calmed down yet. “I know, I know…” he muttered as he wrestled his hands through his hair.

“Jesus Christ, Spence. I kidnapped you and even I know how stupid that is.”

His body trembling, he put up his hand to his face. “I-I…”

“You’re not anything. You’re just stupid.”

Your emotions were too intertwined and intense to untangle. Were you mad? Disappointed? Relieved? Confused? Scared? Perhaps, but you were so caught up in this moment that you couldn’t decipher anything. The only emotion you could define was the panic that was written all over the face of Spencer.

“You told me to get in the car,” he whispered.

“No, I didn’t,” you hissed, “I told you to make a decision. I had to leave and your team was right there. God, Spencer, why didn’t you go with them?”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t ready to go back, maybe I was just scared…I…”

You raced down the highway, going faster than any speed limit required.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re the one who made the decision, I’m just asking you why!”

He ran his hand up to his hair and pulled on it.

“It really doesn’t help when you yell at me, you know.”

You sat there, face flushed and red. Regardless of anything else you felt, you decided you were absolutely pissed off. You sat there, simmering and steaming as he tried to calm himself down.

“Please, Spence, just say something. Anything.”

His breathing was beginning to slow down again.

“Their faces looked so scared when they saw me. Like they saw a ghost.”

“Well,” you replied exasperated, “you have been technically missing for months. If you were looking for one of them who went missing; how’d you feel when you found them again? What if it was Derek that had gone missing?”

“You know,” he laughed, “how do you even know what Derek’s like? You’ve never met him.”

You kept your eyes on the road. “I think you’re forgetting I’m the crazy, obsessive villain here. Watching you meant watching the people around you too.”

“That is one of the scariest things someone has ever said to me.”

You chuckled, then remembered instantly your anger and frustration. You forced the smile off your face and turned onto your exit. How could he be so irritating, making you smile while seeing red?

“Anyway. They’ve only gotten one call from you, and the first time they see you again – you run? You don’t think that’s terrifying to them?”

“I-I, uh, I didn’t think about that.”

“Spence. Again; how would you react?”

He fidgeted with his hands, locking and interlocking his fingers. “Also scared. Confused. Shocked.”

The house began to become visible within the ghostly dark forest. It was still a far ways off, but you could start to make it out.

“So why did you run?”

“I don’t know…I guess I’m just afraid of losing you?”

You almost slammed on your brakes.

“…What?”

“I-I’m not sure. I’ve lost a lot of people in my life, I just don’t want that to happen to you.”

Something inside you snapped, and you shut down. At this point, you didn’t know if you were blushing or if you were reaching your boiling point. He seemed nervous, glancing back at you to see if you’d speak again. You remained silent, and kept your face emotionless. In the corner of your eye you could see his hands continue to fidget and flop around, but you didn’t care.

Finally, you arrived at the house. You marched out the car door and stomped up to the front door. Forcibly placing the key inside the lock, you slammed open the front door and turned on the hallway light before Spencer had even shut his passenger side door.

You waited for him behind the corner, listening to hear him come up the front steps and through the door. As soon as he shut the front door and turned around, you caught him off guard.

“Listen, Spence. I think you’ve forgotten who I am,” you growled.

“I, I know who you are, Y/N,” he stammered.

You led him up against a wall and pinned him there with your hands on each side of his body.

“I’m not someone you miss, Spencer. I’m someone who took you from your friends and family to a house in the middle of nowhere.”

He stared down at you, taking a gulp of air.

“You want to know how I got you here? I drugged your coffee with cough syrup; did you know that? I figured you should know that.”

The words escaped your lips on their own, unaware if this was a fear tactic or a confession.

“You had an electric collar around your neck, do you remember that? I tied you up downstairs in the basement here, to keep you. I remember that day clearly, do you?”

You kept your eyes on him, his eyes glancing anywhere but your own gaze. A bead of sweat appeared on his brow.

“I’m not someone you miss, Spencer. I’m someone you should be afraid of. More than the reaction of anyone on your team.”

You started to take off his jacket, then unraveled the scarf from around his head.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

Your hands shaking, out of fear, frustration, and the amalgamation of emotions that kept flaming inside you.

“You, my good Spencer, ran away from me twice. You came back to me the first time, sick and scared. The second time I found you, you were so intoxicated you couldn’t tell one person’s face from another. It’s common for unsubs to punish their victims for escaping. So,” you trailed off, now revealing a devilish grin, “it’s time for me to play the role.”

As you began to undo the buttons on his shirt, he quivered.

“W-what role?”

Pop, pop, went the buttons as you worked your way down his white collared shirt.

“The role you seemed to forget I play. I’m the unsub in this little story.”

You rolled the sleeves down his arms, revealing his bare chest. Now that it was naked and available, you could see the waves of breathing; inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. You took your hands and pinned his wrists to the wall; making them eye-level up from you. You licked your lips and began to kiss his neck.

He moaned softly, but you pretended not to hear it. The idea of him getting any satisfaction right now made you angrier, and your kisses became harder and faster against his skin.

“When you ran away from me, you let other people mark your skin,” you said between kisses and breaths, “now it’s my turn to mark you as mine.”

Your kisses turned harsher as you began to use your teeth against his neck. They wouldn’t appear yet, but where you passionately put your lips would become dark, indigo bruises later against his skin. You took one hand off of his wrists, and used your fingernails to trail down his chest.

Slowly, you began to work your way across and down. You worked first towards the shoulder closest to you, dragging your nails across his chest as you left lovemarks tiled on him. As your fingers floated across his form, you could feel his breathing getting faster and his body getting warmer.

“Is it still punishment if I enjoy it?”

You didn’t stop your actions for a second. In fact, as he muttered those words and you could almost taste the panting from his mouth, it encouraged you to work faster, to work harder, and suddenly – that fire that you had had once; this raw, burning, sensation that tickled your bones the moment you saw him onscreen; that insatiable obsession that drew you deeper and deeper into the cesspool of Spencer Reid – had caught flame again.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, as you smashed your lips against his.

You tried to force the kiss, but every time you went back to kiss him again, his lips met yours with a passion akin to yours. Unsure if it felt amazing to have this sensation, that he may want you the way you wanted him, or if it was more irritating than anything – that as much as you were trying to prove a point; you were a dangerous person who shouldn’t be trusted and would only hurt him, he was so excited by you that your lesson had flown right over his head. The more you tried to kiss him harder, he’d meet your mouth with the same unexpected fury.

The one hand you had remaining on his wrist you brought into his scalp, and began to play with his hair with your fingers. He whimpered softly into your breath, and he moved his lips away to make that sound.

“Ah,” was the only noise you could muster as you took a tucket of his hair and pulled gently on it. He took a sharp breath and tilted his head back. You used one hand to pull different spots of his hair, the other hand you guided towards his stomach to rack your nails slowly across, and moved your lips slowly off of his mouth, down his chin, and down his neck.

You two slowly, in one unison, unspoken, walked your way over to the couch. He toppled onto it, you quickly taking your position on top of him – dominating him.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” you muttered as you worked your mouth down the base of his throat to his pectorals. “I’ve wanted to know what it’d be like to be with you, to touch your body.”

His eyes rolled back as he said, “Please, Y/N, then. Explore the all of me.”

You took your mouth off of his chest to meet his gaze. His expression wasn’t one of fear, worry, or apprehension. It was a calm, serene one, that even through a flushed complexion and wavering breathing, met your eyes with a sense of serenity.

You took one of his hands, and kissed his wrist. You kissed it gently, with the softest of intentions. He held it up higher for you, as you planted sweet kisses from his lower arm up towards his biceps. You worked your way up back to his shoulder, giving him the sweetest of touches where your marks had already started to become visible.

“Is this what your life is, just trauma after trauma?” you asked as you began to work on the other wrist. “Do you just wave from horrible thing to horrible thing?”

“You’re not a horrible thing. Not to me,” he whispered.

You kept going, not listening to his reply.

“Is that why you wake up and do your job, regardless of anything evil you had seem before? You’ve learned just to tuck that trauma away from another day?”

“It’s not trauma if I want you to do this.”

You took both your hands and wrapped it around the hand of the arm you had been loving.

“You know I’m not healthy. I’m not good for you in any way.”

“Well,” he answered, clapping his free hand against your own, “as a doctor, I must say your hypothesis needs a little work. You’re not healthy for me. I’m probably not very great for you either, giving into you like this. But,” he said, as he began to sit up, “you were wrong about one thing.

You’re the best thing I could ever want or need right now.”

And this time, the first time sober, he kissed you square on the lips.

He guided his hands out of yours, holding your head steady. He worked his own hand up into your hair, stroking it softly. You returned his kiss, and he used his other hand to cradle your cheek. The tension in your entire body melted, and you swooned into him.

“There we go,” he murmured, as he guided you down onto the couch, this time with him on top of you.

“You’re not scary,” he continued to move his lips from your lips onto your cheek. “Quite the opposite, really.”

This time, it was you who had grown soft and panted to his touch.

“You see, people,” he whispered, as he tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, and worked his way down your neck, “sometimes feel a need to deflect their thoughts and feelings. You want me to be scared of you, Y/N, because you’re afraid. Maybe you feel guilty. Maybe you’re scared I’d leave again. Or maybe,” he stopped, “you’re afraid that for the first time in a long time, someone has ever cared for you back in this way.”

Oh god.

He began to work the sweater off of you, past your chest, past your shoulders, over your head, and onto the floor. He continued to speak.

“I know what it likes to be scared of being with another person. Feeling that they may see you for this gross, unlovable person you truly are. You’re so worried that they may leave you for who you are, you push them away first. That way you get hurt, but its your own fault, and you’d think it’d hurt a little less that way.”

For the first time since the shower, Spencer saw your chest, your lingerie moving up and down with the movement of your respiratory system.

“I never called people back, no matter how much I cared about them. If they saw where I came from, what my mind was like, what I saw everyday…” he stopped speaking for a moment or two, taking time to place his lips onto your collarbone. His warmness sent a tingle up your spine, and he continued.

“I know my team is waiting for me, looking for me. I know that I shouldn’t be here, and certainly not on top of you. But you know what, Y/N?”

He looked up at you, a soft smile on his face.

“I really couldn’t care right now.”

“I…” you muttered, not even sure what to say.

As if he knew, he shushed you and place a finger up to your lips. You kissed it gently.

“May I?” he asked, tucking his thumb underneath your bra.

You nodded, and he slowly lifted your bra off your chest and over your head.

The way he played with you was gentle, and it made you feel safe, in a weird way. Comforted. The way he cupped your breast and slid his fingers around it – it didn’t feel risqué or sensual. It felt natural, as if he was exploring your body and not trying to slip into it.

He embraced one breast with one hand, and place his mouth around the other. It sent shivers all the way up you, and you hadn’t ever realize how sensitive that area was until now.

“Spence…”

He slowly stopped his activity, looking back up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

“I’m supposed to be teaching you a lesson. I’m supposed to be punishing you.”

He lifted you up gently as to see eye-to-eye.

“Even if I was stricken down from the gods above, you would not be a punishment to me. If you were my hamartia, I’d chose to the pain of an arrow in my heel if that meant I got to have you in my life.”

How gentle this felt. It almost didn’t feel real, like a blurry dream far-off. But as Spencer placed one arm underneath your back and slipped the other underneath the back of your knee to carry you off the couch to upstairs, you realized: this was real. Regardless if you came from another world or this one was made of fiction, it was real enough for you. Spencer was real enough for you. Even if you got arrested, you decided, and locked up for a million years, the way he smiled and looked at you now would be worth everything you had done up to this point.

He carried you up into your bedroom and let you fall tenderly onto the bed. He kissed your forehead and as he began to leave the room, you asked him if he might spend the night with you in this bed. He chuckled at that and replied,

“I think I get to decide that as my last birthday present of the night. It’s a good way to end a birthday.”

He climbed in and curled up next to you, and you two melted into one another. You wrapped your bodies around one another, one embracing the other.

“Sorry for, you know, running out of a bar and yelling at you on your birthday.”

He laughed.

“I’ve had a lot worse birthdays than that.”

As he drifted off into a slumber, you whispered good night to him, and fell asleep yourself, no longer worried about the possibility of a team of trained hunters coming to find you.

Which was great, since they had caught the last two numbers of your plate, and with the make and model of your car, and all the video footage of you driving hectic earlier, that was all they needed.

And they were coming.

Taglist:

@thatsonezesty13

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #cm spencer reid #y/n and spence are like the adhd/autism combo #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer #spencer reid #an unhealthy obsession #auo #yandere fanfic #yancore #yandere

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hyuniepot · 4 years ago

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the butterfly effect. || chapter one

chapter word count || 3,214

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

a/n || reposting this chapter because tumblr made it glitch out for some reason ;-; praying everything works out this time!! as always, send me a message or an ask to be added to the taglist.

You used to be scared of butterflies.

Yes, the thought of it is silly, but you were. You didn’t like bugs at all, the pretty ones included. The thought of them crawling on your skin made you ill. But there was one thing you loved, and that was your friend, Mark. And unlike you, Mark loved butterflies. So when he asked you to go to a butterfly exhibit with him, you sucked it up and said yes.

And you realized that day that butterflies were beautiful. They were harmless, and you giggled as they landed on you, excitedly showing Mark as you conquered your fear of them. Mark helped you conquer a lot of your fears.

And ever since he left, you felt more fearful than ever. Losing him made you realize how fragile life really was, and you hated it. You hated feeling like everything was on the verge of being lost.

“You good?” you jump at the sound of Jaemin’s voice in your ear. You blink, realizing you had completely zoned out. You were sitting next to him on the bus to school. You quickly glance out the window once more. The butterfly you had been admiring was gone.

You nod. “I’m okay. Just tired.” you respond.

Jaemin grins and grabs onto your hand. “Okay. Just checking in.” he says softly. “Um, we’re all gonna get food after school if you wanna come. It’s just a really nice day, it’d be a shame not to go out in it, you know?”

Truth be told, you had been feeling weird lately, and going out with your friends (or, to be more accurate — your boyfriend and his friends that you were friends with by association) was probably what you needed. “That sounds nice.”

The bus had arrived at school. Jaemin stands and picks up his bag, letting you out in front of him. You exit the bus and you’re met with the warm air enveloping you, the sun hitting your eyes and making you squint. Jaemin exits the bus as well, his frame blocking the sun from blinding you. He puts his arm around you, and you grab onto his hand out of instinct.

“Hey guys, got room for more?” you feel another arm around your shoulder.

“Hyuck, no. You’re gross.” Jaemin groans, rolling his eyes.

Hyuck gasps dramatically. “That’s mean. You didn’t even consult with your girlfriend first.”

You smile. “Sorry, Hyuck. But I’m only interested in Jaemin.” you tell him.

Hyuck removes his arm from your shoulder and crosses his arms. “What a low blow…” he mutters. Hyuck was your childhood friend. He grew up with you and Mark. He was like a happy virus, and you weren’t sure if you would have survived losing Mark if he hadn’t been there for you.

You giggle. “Sorry to break your heart.”

“You’d think after months of being rejected he’d give up, but he’s a trooper.” Jaemin adds.

Hyuck rolls his eyes this time. “It’s only because you guys are gross and kissy-kissy in public. We’re in school,” he says, moving away from his spot next to you. He puts himself in between you and Jaemin. “Leave room for Jesus.”

“Oh my god, Hyuck,” you laugh. “You are so annoying. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” you tell him.

Hyuck grins and sticks out his tongue, turning down a hallway as you guys pass it. “You’re damn right you’re lucky,” he calls. “I’ll see you guys later!”

Jaemin shakes his head, laughing. “He’s such a weirdo. Love him, though.”

You reach your locker and lean against it. “He is. You learn how to deal with him after so long. I’ll meet you outside the entrance doors after school. Do you guys know where you’re going to eat?”

Jaemin leans up against the locker next to yours. “Nah, not yet. We’ll figure it out before the day ends.” he tells you. “You have a good day, alright?” he pecks your cheek.

You smile. “I will.” Jaemin gives you one last grin before turning and continuing down the hallway.

[12:39 p.m.]

“What kind of weird shit do you read at night?” Naeun asks, scowling at Jiwoo.

“It’s not weird!” Jiwoo cries, turning her phone screen towards the dark-haired girl. “There’s real proof!”

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, taking a seat next to Naeun.

“Apparently there’s an app that can change your fate,” Sungyeon speaks up, holding back a laugh. “Jiwoo found it.”

Jiwoo turns her attention towards you. “See! You’ll believe me, right?” she turns her phone to you.

You furrow your brows and decide not to answer her question. You read the article she had pulled up.

According to the 13-year-old who downloaded the app, ButterFly, his wish came true a mere 3 hours after sending it into the ButterFly HQ. The young boy wished for his cat to come back to life, who had been dead for nearly a month. A few hours later, a cat showed up at the boy’s window. It was identical to the one the boy had.

ButterFly, a self-proclaimed life changing app has been growing in popularity as people hope to change their past. But the real question is, does this app really change a life or is it simply coincidence?

“Jiwoo…” you say softly.

“Come on,” she whines. “I can’t be the only one who thinks it could actually be real!”

“I’m afraid you are.” Sungyeon tells her, taking a bite of her food. “It’s just a coincidence. The only success story they have is something so… normal.”

“If they want to impress me, they have to come up with something way more exciting than a kid finding his cat.” Naeun says.

Jiwoo pouts, turning off her phone. “But… it’d just be so cool if it was real.”

“I agree, but an app should never be trusted for something like that. Plus, if an app had the powers to change the trajectory of someone’s life, wouldn’t the butterfly effect happen?” you asked.

“She’s right,” Naeun says. “Fate is not something to play around with.”

Dejected, Jiwoo surrenders and turns her attention back to finishing her lunch.

“What is that again?” Sungyeon asks. “The butterfly effect?”

“The idea that even tiny changes can make huge and unexpected changes,” you explain. “Like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a typhoon.”

“Hmm,” Sungyeon hums. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, like if Jiwoo was born as a boy, maybe she’d be dating you and you’d be a millionaire for some reason.” Naeun takes a drink from her water bottle.

“What?” Sungyeon cringes.

“Hey, what’s that face for?” Jiwoo cries. “I think I’d be a cute boy.”

You laugh and shake your head as your friends continue to playfully banter about who would be the cutest boy in a parallel universe.

[3:30 p.m.]

You stand by the entrance doors, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try not to look too awkward as you wait for Jaemin and his friends. You wave to Naeun as she leaves, and are relieved when Jaemin appears a few moments later. He immediately spots you and makes his way to you, smiling. His friends, Jeno and Renjun walk behind him with Hyuck, loudly talking about something.

“Hi,” Jaemin says. “Did you have a good day?”

You grin. “It was fine. How about you?” you start walking away from school, taking hold of his hand.

“It was good. I have some annoying homework, but…” he trails off.

Renjun suddenly runs past you, turning around with a disgusted look on his face. “Hyuck, for the last time, I will not hold your hand!”

You turn your head to see a pouty Hyuck. “I just wanted to fit in!”

You laugh and roll your eyes, turning your head back towards the sidewalk in front of you. You all make your way to a nearby restaurant. You sat next to Jaemin in a booth and Jeno, Renjun, and Hyuck all squeezed into the one across from you. You all ordered drinks.

“Oh, Jaemin,” Jeno says, picking his bag up from the floor. He pulls out a notebook and hands it to Jaemin. “Thanks for your notes.”

Jaemin nods. “No problem.”

“Jeno,” Renjun says, shaking his head. “You’re never gonna learn if you keep copying Jaemin’s notes.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s not like I do it all the time,” he says, defending himself.

“You borrow my notes, too, though… so Renjun kinda has a point.” Hyuck says, leaning back as the waitress sets his drink down in front of him.

You pull out your phone as the boys argue yet again just to see what was happening on your social media. It was mostly random tweets and posts from people you knew, but there was something that caught your eye. It was a promoted post from ButterFly. It had no likes or anything, despite being promoted to your Twitter timeline. And it wasn’t just one. After a few scrolls, you saw another ad from the app, just with a different caption. You saw another one before shaking your head and exiting the app. You opened Instagram, just to be met with the same ad.

Don’t be afraid. Having the chance to change your fate is much more fun than you think.

The caption sent chills down your spine. It didn’t sound like something that should be promoted. You clicked the link the ad provided, but it simply took you to the app store. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. You wanted to download the app, but something was holding you back.

Jaemin nudged your shoulder, making you jump.

“Huh?” you ask. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Do you want something to eat?” Jaemin asked.

“Oh,” you look at the waitress next to the table, notebook and pen in hand. “I’m okay.” you reply.

The waitress nods before turning around and entering the kitchen. You stand up from your seat at the booth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You shoved your phone into a pocket on your bookbag and rushed to the bathroom.

You shut the door behind you, walking to the sink. You looked at yourself. You looked tired, disheveled. You couldn’t get rid of the feeling you had felt since waking up. You could barely even describe it. It almost felt like dread, but it was more of an unexplainable sadness. Not even being with your friends seemed to help it. You turned on the water, splashing your cheeks with cold water. How had you been so enchanted by the ads of that app that you had become completely oblivious to what was going on around you?

You dried your face before you heard a small knock on the door. “Hey, are you okay?” You opened the door and saw Jaemin. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry…” you say, stepping out of the bathroom.

“You’ve been acting… strange today. No offense,” Jaemin says.

“None taken,” you sigh. “I know I have. Everything just feels off today, I don’t know why.” You tell him.

Jaemin puts his arm around you and you both begin walking back to the table the others were at. “It’s okay to feel that way… I think everyone does. It just sucks to watch you feel so sad.” Jaemin says. He sighs. “I really hope you start feeling better soon. I miss hearing your laugh.”

You smile. “I miss it too,” you say, reaching the table. Jaemin scoots into the booth and you follow after. You try to ignore the horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach and have a good afternoon with your friends. You ended up starting to feel better. You stole some of Hyuck’s food after panicking and not ordering some of your own. You laughed at everyone’s jokes and dumb arguments, and before you knew it, an hour had passed. You all decided to stop being a bother and leave. You waited outside as everyone paid; Jaemin offered to pay for you since all you got was a drink.

“Are you heading home?” Jeno asked Jaemin.

He nodded. “I’m gonna walk this one home and then head home myself,” he said, resting his head on yours.

Jeno nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Renjun and Hyuck also waved goodbye. They were all going to Jeno’s. You went your separate ways, and as much as you loved them, you were glad to be alone with Jaemin. Your house wasn’t too far, but even if it was just a few minutes, you were glad to be with him.

“Are you just gonna go home and do homework?” you ask.

Jaemin nods. “Yeah… it’s probably gonna take some time.”

“Sorry baby,” you say. “I’ll facetime you once my mom gets home,” you tell him.

Your mother worked late, so you were in charge of looking after your younger brother, Jisung, until she got home. He was only 2 years younger than you, so it’s not like it was hard, but you still felt obligated to keep tabs on him.

“You don’t have to,” he says. You both walked through your driveway and to the front door. “But if you want to, however… I would love it if you did.” he grins as you open your door.

“Well, then expect a call later,” you say, grabbing both of his hands.

Jaemin leans in and kisses you, and for a second, it feels like everything is okay.

“Gross!” a voice yells. You jump away from Jaemin and turn around.

“Jisung, your sister and her boyfriend are smashing their faces together again!” Chenle, who was standing in the kitchen, yells. Jisung’s pokes his head around the corner.

“Shut up, Chenle.” you say, grinning. “You’re not a child, kissing isn’t that weird.”

You step inside, taking off your shoes and setting your bag down. Jaemin steps in behind you and walks to the kitchen, putting Chenle in a headlock. “You little jerk,” Jaemin teases.

Chenle giggles, trying to get out of Jaemin’s arms. You walk to the living room where Jisung had gone, continuing his video game. “How was your day?” you ask.

“Good.” Jisung says, eyes still glued to the TV.

“That’s good,” you look back to the kitchen and see that Jaemin has released Chenle, and is now talking to him. “Do you have homework?”

Jisung nods. You watch the TV, and watch his character die. Jisung sighs and sets the controller down, turning to you. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Can you try and get it done before Mom gets home?” you ask.

Jisung nods. “Yeah… Chenle and I have the same homework so we can do it together, I guess.”

You nod and go back to the kitchen. Talking to Jisung sometimes felt like talking to a brick wall. “I better get going.” Jaemin says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk him to the door. “I’ll see you.” you grab both of his hands again, never wanting to let go. Jaemin kisses your cheek and turns.

You bite your lip. Why was this horrible feeling back so suddenly? “Hey, Jaemin?” you call after him. He turns back around.

“I love you.” you say, almost too softly. For a second you weren’t even sure if he heard you, but he gives you that classic smile, the one that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“I love you too.” he blows you a kiss before walking away.

[9:41 p.m.]

You sat down on your bed, freshly out of the shower. Since Jaemin had left, you helped Jisung and Chenle with their homework, did your own homework, and facetimed Jaemin for a bit while he did his. And then you took a long shower in an attempt to clear your head.

You look around for your phone, finding it hidden in a blanket on your bed. You answer some unread texts and then open Instagram again. You’re met with the same ads from before. Your heart drops.

Without thinking you click the link again, pressing download. It downloaded in no time. Your thumb hovers over the icon of the app. The moment you muster up the courage to click on it, there’s a knock at your bedroom door.

You jump, startled, but get up and open it.

Your mother’s exhausted face greets you. “Hi sweetie. I’m going straight to bed, so… goodnight. I hope you had a good day.”

You smile, shakily exhaling. “Today was fine. Goodnight.” you say, not wanting to delay her sleep anymore.

She gives you a warm smile before going to her room. Before you close your door, Jisung appears from the staircase nearby. “You going to bed?” he asks.

“Uh,” you open your phone, looking at the time.

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You ignore the notification. “No… but I’ll probably be in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, okay… well… goodnight then.” he says, going to his room which was right across from yours. He closes the door without another word.

You press your lips together and shut your door as well, laying down on your bed. You opened your phone and clicked on ButterFly.

1 Unread Message

ButterFlyHQ

Greetings. What is your name?

You hesitantly enter your name. You regret it as soon as you responded — maybe you should’ve used a fake name.

ButterFlyHQ

Hello, (y/n).

What do you wish to change?

Wow, straight to the point… You think.

You wonder what you should enter. You try to think of the most outrageous thing you could think of, something completely unimaginable. Something that would surely trigger the Butterfly Effect.

There were things you actually wanted to change.

You wanted your mother to stop being so stressed.

You wanted Jisung to be happy.

You wanted to stop feeling so insecure about you and Jaemin’s relationship.

You wanted Jiwoo to finally pass trigonometry.

Okay, the last one was a bit dumb, and actually imaginable. And then you thought of the most impossible thing.

You

I want my best friend to come back to life.

You almost laugh as you sent the message. But your faint smile fades at the immediate response.

ButterFlyHQ

What is your best friend’s name?

This was suddenly feeling too personal.

You

Mark Lee.

ButterFlyHQ

Understood. We will try our best to meet your request.

You stare at your phone. Now what? You turned your phone off and set it on your nightstand, plugging it into the charger before laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Great, now some random stranger knows some girl thinks an app can bring her friend back from the grave.

When you got the chance, you were gonna chew Jiwoo out for bringing that app up. You get under the covers and close your eyes, trying to sleep. But your mind was racing. You finally feel yourself drifting, your mind finally giving you some peace.

Your last thought before you finally fall asleep is Jaemin. You just wanted to be with him again, his arm around your shoulder, his fingers lazily intertwined with yours. You felt yourself smiling before finally falling asleep, unknowingly saying goodbye to your last normal day.

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the-a-word-2214 · 4 years ago

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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The Singer

Anthony Ramos x OC

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Here’s the finale! Thanks to @charming-charlie ing-charlie for writing this one. I’ll probably write more series in the future but I think I might take a little break after this one. If anyone ever wants to collaborate on anything in future, feel free to message me! I’m always open to new ideas.

902 words

Chapter 8: We’ll be alright

It was quite a few months and Scarlett didn’t hear anything from the stalker after that weird message. The media seemed to die down on their relationship for a while, but then it picked back up again when news that Hamilton was going to be accessible on a well-known streaming site. All the sudden, everyone had interviews and press to do, Anthony included. He did several promos at the apartment, often talking about his experience and what life was like when he was on Broadway. He shared stories and secrets from the show to several different talk shows, including MTV News, E Network, and TMZ. He spoke with Kelly Clarkson, Jimmy Fallon, and Josh Horowitz as well.

Scarlett would end up listening to some of his interviews, but soon, he started repeating the same stories and sharing the same memories. It seemed as though the talk shows used the same questions over and over. How Anthony was getting through it with a smile on was amazing to Scarlett. She felt like she would be annoyed by the constant repetition of questions and comments. He spoke with Renee and Leslie, reminiscing on their time from the show. He laughed at the dumbest jokes but Scarlett could tell he was enjoying himself. She watched him from the doorframe. He was in a room all by himself, sitting on their couch. A bookshelf of trickets and junk was behind him. While it wasn’t the most ideal background, it worked. Then again, there wasn’t any other room that could provide Anthony with the privacy he wanted and needed when participating in the interviews. The Hamilton virtual press tour lasted two, maybe three days of just non-stop talking and answering questions. Anthony took breaks to eat and sleep, but then he was back at it and doing his thing. Scarlett had to admire that. There was finally a break in between interviews and Anthony shut his laptop. He rubbed his eyes from exhaustion and let out a sigh of relief. His mouth was hurting from constantly being stretched into a smile. His voice was slight hoarse because he just finished singing Alexander Hamilton for a fan on John Krasinski’s show, Some Good News. He didn’t warm up beforehand and was feeling the aftereffects of improper throat care. He pushed the laptop off to the side and stood up. His legs were falling asleep from his laptop being in his lap. His balance was a bit wobbly as he walked out of the room and into the kitchen. Scarlett was there, at the table, on her own computer. She could not help but read reviews and blog posts about the Hamilton film being released online. “Look at all of the new fans you are getting,” Scarlett said with a smile when she saw her slightly disheveled boyfriend approach her. She was proud of Anthony and the journey he experienced.

The reviews were glowing. Twitter, Tumblr, Reddit, and YouTube were all alight with new posts, videos, and memes about people enjoying the movie. Lin had warned both Scarlett and Anthony about the surefire online chaos that was going to explode. Anthony took it all in stride and Scarlett could see that he was very happy. Hamilton was a huge part of his life and he wasn’t going to dismiss that. He could use the opportunity to plug his latest album or movie role, like some of his co-stars were doing, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was trying to keep every interview strictly about Hamilton and his overall performance on and off stage during that time. He grabbed the laptop from Scarlett and looked at her screen. She had several tabs open, each leading to a different website that had something about the Broadway film. Reaching over, he grabbed Scarlett’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “You know you’re the best fan there is, right?” he asked her with a smile. Her support really helped him be the man he was today, and he owed a lot of his success to her. In fact, he mentioned her in a few interviews to prove it. “I’m your number one fan,” Scarlett replied while closing her laptop shut. She squeezed his hand tightly within her own and leaned over the table to give him a quick, unsuspecting kiss. Her phone as blowing up, but it was from the original cast of Hamilton. Lin created a group chat to discuss the interviews and press timeline. She loved reading how each cast member was handling themselves during this time. Anthony was very active on it, mostly making fun of Oak and Daveed though. Last Scarlett remembered, Daveed’s background during his interviews was a huge conversation in the group text.

They were going to be alright. She knew that. Their relationship was up and down but they somehow always emerged victorious and stronger than ever. She had no idea where they would go from here, but she was excited to find out. “I don’t need anyone else but you,” Anthony said against her lips. At that moment, all was well. They were okay. It wasn’t a life Scarlett thought she was going to be living but she could not see herself being anywhere else. With Anthony Ramos by her side, she felt unstoppable, and she was so excited to see where their journey was going to lead. The future looked bright for both of them.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

#anthony ramos x oc #anthony ramos #hamilton #new writer #new writers on tumblr #john laurens x oc #john laurens

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serpienten · 6 years ago

Text

Divine Intervention (II/VI)

Chapter Title: Three Time’s a Charm

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Could things possibly get any worse than a horrifyingly embarrassing meet-dumb with a handsome, flustering, and flirtatious stranger? Well – it probably will.

Last Chapter: In a sleepy haze, you almost steal someone’s car. Instead of being mad at you, he buys you coffee.

This Chapter: While working as a checkout girl, you’ve seen a lot of things. But you’ve yet to see a customer twice in one day. Or three times. Or... you get the gist.

Prompt: You’re the cute cashier at 7/11 and I keep going to buy one thing at a time as an excuse to talk to you.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Part two for my series with @kentuckybarnes for @chillingbucky and @revengingbarnes ‘s fic wars! The prompt I had is listed above. I hope this is alright! As always, feedback, reblogs, likes, etc. are very very much appreciated.

Divine Intervention - Masterlist

Two weeks had passed since you almost drove off in the car of one of earth’s mightiest heroes, and where you previously hadn’t paid much attention to either of them and had managed to live your days without seeing their faces plastered all over social media and what not, it seemed that you couldn’t escape them now. When you opened Twitter, almost every second tweet was about the Avengers or at least used a reference to them. You saw heaps of pictures on Instagram and neither on Pinterest or Tumblr were you safe from them. Well, from one of them especially. It didn’t exactly bother you. You had nothing against the Avengers, they seemed like nice people and of course, they’d saved the world and probably your ass more than once or twice, but by seeing Bucky Barnes’ face, you were constantly reminded of the embarrassment that had resulted from your sleepy mistake.

He was everywhere. Everywhere.

While he was absolutely gorgeous and muscley and overall just so. nice. to look at, he stressed you the heck out. He looked at you while getting you that coffee and you got flustered. You saw a picture of him looking into the camera and you blushed. And not only weren’t you safe from him in the social media space, but he also invaded your thoughts. His slate blue, one of a kind eyes, the smile and husky laugh he’d gifted you with a bunch of times, the way his shirt and jacket had stretched over his broad shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his chest, the slight stubble covering the sharp line of his jaw and his smell. Sandalwood, leather, cologne and just a hint of smoke that would normally have bothered you but on him... It fit. To Bucky, it fit perfectly. You hadn’t realized it like this while you were with him since you were tired out of your mind, but when you’d woken up the next day, it all came crashing down on you like a tsunami.

You desperately wished to turn back time and re-do your first meeting with Bucky. Partly because you wanted to embarrass yourself less, and partly to enjoy the time you had with that man more. Because as it was looking at the moment, you weren’t going to meet him anytime soon if ever at all. God, why hadn’t you asked for his number?

“C’mon Y/N, look alive.”

Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your co-worker, Alex. She was right behind you, handling the second cash desk, sliding products over the scanner nimbly and swiftly, checking out customer after customer, while you were waiting for an old lady to dig out her debit card. You grimaced at her and Alex grinned back at you, before looking back towards her customer.

When you turned back around as well, you were met with the lady’s debit card expectantly extended in your direction. Taking it quickly, you muttered out a thank you. While the woman packed her stuff and left, you got to the next customer. You could feel the people in the queue getting a little irritated by the wait, so you hurriedly greeted the next in line and reached for the three products on the counter. After swiping all of them over the scanner, you looked up and opened your mouth to announce the price.

Then, your breath stalled.

There he was. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. An Avenger. In a 7/11. Right in freaking front of you.

“Hey,” he said, giving you a lopsided grin and lifted his hand to wave a little.

“Hi,” you breathed out.

He was wearing the baseball cap again. It suited him, but at the same time, it covered a lot of his face that you would really like to see. You allowed your eyes to roam over his form. All in all, he didn’t look very different from the last time you saw him, and that was just fine by you.

“So, how much is it?”

“Hm?” Your eyes snapped back up to his and you looked at him wide-eyed, before realizing that you were in the middle of “checking out” a customer and had a line of people that were starting to switch over to Alex because of how long you were taking.

“Crap,” you swore, “sorry.”

Bucky let out a little, hoarse laugh and shook his head. “It’s fine, doll.”

You let him know the price and he took out a black credit card to pay. The look of the card alone made you feel strange about seeing it in a 7/11 like the one you worked in.

“Well,” he said, grabbing the cans of root beer, “it’s really... really nice to see you again.”

“You too.” You smiled at him, fiddling around with your fingers as you looked at him. He wore a soft smile that almost made your knees weak. The embarrassment you’d felt the past two weeks while thinking about him and the car incident disappeared immediately as soon as your eyes met. All you could think about was how good it felt to have him in front of you. It felt like being near a close friend. Comfortable. Familiar. Relaxed.

A chuckle stole its way onto his lips and you were hoping for him to say something else, but just when he was about to open his mouth, someone behind him cleared his throat.

You were met with the glare of a very, very angry man, a hand stemmed in his hips and his foot audibly tapping below the counter.

Bucky threw a glance over his shoulder and then looked back at you with an apology shining in his eyes. “I’ll leave ya to it, doll.”

You nodded at him, waving slightly as he turned and left. However, not without shooting you another smile. Already, not even two seconds later, you were yearning for him to return.

Two hours later, the lunchtime storm was over, and you could finally take a deep breath again. Alex and you were sitting in your little space between the cash registers, slouched in your seats.

“So. Tell me. Who was the guy you were making heart eyes at?” Alex asked, a cheeky, teasing undertone to her voice.

Bucky. You could feel your cheeks heat again, coloring in a rosy shade. Damn it. Damn Bucky. You tried to scoff and brush her comment off by brushing your hair back over your shoulder nonchalantly. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I wasn’t making heart eyes at any guy.” You made a show of looking down at your nails before your brows furrowed. “Also, you were sitting with your back to me. How did you even...” you trailed off, biting your tongue. You’d almost said too much. Maybe you already had.

Alex laughed and shook her head, her shoulder length, brown curls flying into her face. Lifting her hands, she brushed the strands out of her face. “Oh, please. You were staring him down and he held up the entire line because of it. I noticed that even with my back turned to you. And you know why? Because you gave me a whole lotta work. At least he was nice to look at when I turned around to reprimand you.”

“Why didn’t you? Reprimand me, I mean?” You cocked an eyebrow at Alex.

“Because he was nice to look at. Really nice,” she said, shrugging. “I understood.”

Breathing in deeply, you chuckled lightly and rolled your eyes. “You’re awful.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve been your friend since what, four years? The guys you’ve gone out with since I’ve known you have sucked. Sucked, Y/N. And this one’s delicious. And he’s into you too.”

You scoffed at that. “I’m not gonna go out with him. Nothing’s gonna happen. And he’s not into me. Nothing is going to happen. Zip. Nada.”

She raised an eyebrow at you, grinning. “You sound disappointed.”

“Alex-”

“Hey.”

You almost hit your head on the shelf next to the cash register when you whipped around in your chair. Damn it. Damn Bucky.

“Hi.” You pushed out a breath.

He grinned. “Déjà-vu?”

Your lips pulled wider into a grin that mirrored his. “Did you forget something?”

Bucky nodded, pointing at the bags of chips laying on the counter. “Night out with the guys. Can’t forget the snacks.”

Looking at the three bags, a crease formed between your brows. “How many guys are we talking? Because I’m not sure that’s enough.”

“Do you want me to buy more?”

“Do you want to eat more?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, a playfulness evident in the movement. “I’m good, dollface.”

You lifted both your hands and shrugged. “If you say so.”

He chuckled. You swiped the bags and told him the price. Again, he pulled out the black card and paid.

“Uh...” you said, “It was nice to see you. Again.”

“Yeah, yeah it was. Again.” The bags crackled as he picked them up and paused. He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Y-” he started, cutting himself off. “Yeah. I’ll see ya, doll.”

You nodded as you watched him turn around again. Just like the first time, more than anything you wanted to call him back and keep talking to him. And you almost did, ready to open your mouth and call out. But you didn’t. Because when Bucky was hardly five feet away from you, Alex behind you scoffed. “Yeah. You’re so not into each other. Doll. Dollface. Sweetiepie. Honeycak-”

“Alex,” you hissed, a scandalized expression on your face. Had he heard her? God, hopefully not. Please, not.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” A moment passes before she speaks up again. “Whatever.”

You slumped back down into your chair and propped up your elbows on the checkout counter and rested your chin on your hands.

Not even five uneventful minutes pass before Alex nudges you roughly. “Y/N! Y/N, look.”

When you turned to look at you, she grabbed the back of your chair and twirled you around to the direction of the entrance.

You let out a surprised breath. “As if.”

You watched Bucky as he walked towards the Chips Aisle, picked up a bunch more bags and came towards the checkout counter for a third time in three hours. When he arrived in front of you, you couldn’t help but say something.

“You do seem good.”

Bucky shook his head, rolling his eyes and grinning in the process.

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rt-reader-inserts · 7 years ago

Text

Valentine

Pairing: Trevor Collins x Reader

Word Count: 2,391

Description: You find yourself alone on Valentine’s Day, working after hours on editing with nothing better to do. That is, until a certain someone walks in. (This was a commission for @trevc0, thank you so much!!)

Warnings: None!

It is… somewhat disheartening to see all your coworkers leaving the office, either with their loved one, with gifts from/for a loved one, or with plans to see their loved one when they get home. Meanwhile, you’re just staying after to catch up on some editing, seeing as you had the time for it. No partner means no plans so, it’s not like you have anything better to do. Work’s better than staying in, watching netflix, and thinking about how nice it’d be to be with someone tonight.

That doesn’t stop those thoughts from lingering in your subconscious.

With a deep breath, you try to keep you entire focus on your work. Balancing the audio levels of six microphones, finding the best footage to switch to at different points in the video, it’s at least an easy thing to get fully absorbed in.

So it startles you when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you look up to see Trevor standing behind your chair, shooting you a smile as you take your headphones off. “Hey, (y/n), is there, uh, a reason you’re still here? Office hours ended like, ehh two hours ago.” You check your phone to see that it is, in fact, seven o’clock, and it surprises you how fast the time went by. (It’s not surprising, however, when you see your only notifications are from Twitter and Tumblr.)

“I just stopped by to grab my jacket, wound up leaving it since the weather was so nice, and then I saw the light was on and… there you were, editin’ away.”

You laugh under your breath, shaking your head slightly before replying, “I dunno, figured I could get some work done since I have no plans; plus, you dorks aren’t here to interrupt with your ‘shenanigans’ so…” You shoot him a grin, and he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, you walk in on flinchless kickie doo one time—”

“It hit me right in the face, Trevor; and I had a fuckin bounce house dropped on me one time?”

“ —alright well, yeah, but it’s not like that really interrupted anything. Just… delayed things a bit.” He fires back, crossing his arms with a slightly guilty expression.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night,” you tease, sitting back in your chair as you look up at him. “Is there a specific reason for tonight’s interruption? Outside of curiosity, of course.”

“Well, uh, since you don’t have plans or anything,” he rubs the back of his neck, gaze darting over to a random spot in the room before looking back at you, “would you, like, wanna go get dinner?”

As if to answer his question, your stomach rumbles, and you both laugh. “Yeah man, I’m absolutely down for dinner.” It doesn’t occur to you until after you’ve already answered the question, but you realize you have no idea what the connotations surrounding dinner are.

Well, too late now.

He shoots you another smile, moving to grab his jacket from the couch. “Better save your work then, cuz I’m a hungry boy,” you can’t help but snort at that. You’re a dork, that’s what you are. “And, judging by the whale noises, I’m guessing you’re in the same boat.”

“You know I’m the hungriest boy around,” you shoot back, spinning around in your chair and quickly saving what you have. “Honestly, I would devour the entire McDonald’s menu right now, and I don’t even like McDonald’s.”

“Dammit, there goes my plan for good ol’ MickeyD’s.”

With a slight eye roll, you sit and wait for your computer to shut down, placing your headphones on your desk.

You can’t help but let out a surprised gasp, almost squeal, when your chair suddenly begins moving backwards. “Let’s get movin’, kid,” Trevor says as he starts rolling you toward the door, unable to keep from chuckling at his own dumb antics.

With slight difficulty, you jump out of the moving chair, quickly stepping to the side and laughing as he stumbles through his momentum. “Hang on, dude, I can’t leave my bag behind,” you tell him as you walk back to your desk, “and I can walk on my own, thanks.”

“Well, if you insist,” he retorts, sliding your chair back to your desk as you pick up your bag. Tossing your phone inside, you turn back to him, and he smiles. “Ready to roll?”

“If by roll you mean walk, and not take my chair out in the parking lot, then yeah, let’s roll.”

“I mean, there aren’t any cameras around, so I think we can leave the safety violations at the office tonight,” he replies, walking backward toward the door as he waits for you to follow.

With a combination of a laugh and an exasperated sigh, you walk after him, hitting the switch on your way out.

The two of you wind up at a hole-in-the-wall Italian place, one that your coworkers have been raving about (and that was thankfully small enough to not be completely booked on Valentine’s Day). You’d felt somewhat embarrassed when you’d had to admit to Trevor that Steffie was normally your ride home, and you’d been planning on taking a Lyft home tonight. Of course he assured you that driving you home was no problem, and that it made things easier anyways, not having to figure out what to do with two cars.

He had a point, but that doesn’t stop you from being anxious about inconveniencing him.

However, the weird conversation you find yourself in does more than enough to distract you from that anxiety.

“Wait, wait, so hang on,” Trevor speaks through suppressed laughter, “you’re telling me— that you were afraid of swimming pools until you were nine??”

“Listen, it was a valid fear!” you defend yourself, crossing your arms in a slightly exaggerated manner. “I mean, at least at the time. Of course I knew that sharks probably didn’t swim in public swimming pools, but was I one hundred percent sure? Nope, and I wasn’t about to take that chance.”

“Had to wait until you were at least ten for that.”

“Now you’re getting it,” you shoot back with a grin, which he cheekily returns.

You’d been at the restaurant for only twenty minutes, when suddenly the waiter sets down the appetizer in front of you; it looks nothing short of amazing. Of course, neither of you are surprised, suggestions from the podcast crew rarely let anyone down. In all honesty, it’s really just the price makes the quality astonishing.

“Jesus christ, I could eat that entire plate in two seconds flat,” Trevor absentmindedly mumbles, and you’re drawn back to the present, quickly grabbing a ravioli as you narrow your eyes at him.

“You better fuckin’ not.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, fork still between his fingers. “Hey, I said I could, not that I will. You think I’m gonna pull something like that when you have a fork and knife at hand?”

“I mean, we have the same silverware, you could technically defend yourself, if it came to that.”

He rolls his eyes, leaning back against the booth, “Please, I was born to fence with silverware. I would crush you, easy.” He can only keep up his cocky demeanor for another small moment before cracking, shooting you a grin.

“Oh, is that so?” you raise an eyebrow before sinking your fork into the toasted ravioli on your plate, twirling it around as you hold it up. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You take a bite of the ravioli, and he’s quick to retort, “Are you challenging me to a duel? In the middle of this refined establishment?” His voice is practically dripping with faux shock and horror, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

“I’m just saying, you gotta be able to put your money where your mouth is, Collins.”

He smiles, grabbing a ravioli for himself as he replies, “Well, maybe sometime when we aren’t surrounded by innocent civilians, I’ll prove my fork dueling skills.” After a quick bite, he adds, “Besides, I don’t think that old lady would be too thrilled about it, our laughing was offensive enough.”

You glance over to where he subtly gestured with his fork, and see a very old couple. It’s almost as if the woman can sense you looking, because she immediately turns and meets your gaze, with a glare that you think could probably kill you. You return your eyes to Trevor, trying to hold back a laugh as you say, “Holy shit, yeah, no, let’s hold off on this duel for now.” He doesn’t have time to respond before you add, “She also definitely caught me staring so… pretty sure I’m on her shit list now.”

Trevor locks eyes with you, deadly serious as he tells you, “You better watch out, pretty sure that red wine she’s drinking isn’t actually wine.”

You mimic his demeanor as you lean in closer, whispering, “Can you see her reflection on any of the silverware? Is there any color in her cheeks, like, at all?” He quickly glances over, and shakes his head. “Well, fuck.”

“Listen, you’re cool and all, but if you’ve got a vampire after you, you might have to find your own way home tonight.”

Your eyes are still locked as you stay quiet for a moment, the two of you almost daring each other to break the stare, but then the corner of Trevor’s mouth quirks. You can’t keep from laughing at that point, and neither can he, neither of you paying any mind to the dirty look the same woman throws your way.

“If we get kicked out of here before my pasta shows up, I’m blaming you.”

Trevor laughs under his breath, grabbing another ravioli as he replies, “I mean, you’re the one staring at harmless old ladies.”

“You told me to! And I’m not sure how harmless she’ll be when she catches me in an alley, ready to snap my neck; did you see the look she gave me?” You try your best to keep your voice accusatory, but the smile on your face immediately betrays you. God, how could you not smile when this man was smiling right back?

“Eh, you’re a tough kid, you’ll manage.”

You laugh as you chew your next bite, swallowing before adding, “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”

“Oh, anytime.”

You’re not sure how someone’s smile can look so smug and so sincere in the same moment.

It’s surprising how easily the conversation flowed between the two of you at dinner. Sure, you talked to each other at the office, got on fairly well, but that was usually with other people around. You never expected to spend so much one-on-one time with someone and not fall into an awkward silence at some point.

And yet, here you are, in the passenger seat of Trevor’s car as he drives you home, the silence between the two of you something comfortable, safe. He hums along to whatever Spotify playlist he has going, tapping the steering wheel, and you watch the Austin city streets go by in a blur of lights and nightlife.

“I had no clue you were in the same neighborhood as me,” you break the silence, “but I’m glad you don’t have to go too far out of your way to get my dumb ass home.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have minded going out of my way to get your dumb ass home,” he fires back, shooting you a grin. You roll your eyes with a laugh, and he adds, “For real though, don’t sweat it; Lyft fare is bullshit, and I’m more than happy to help.”

You smile over at him as you reply, “Well, thank you.”

He pulls his car into the one available spot outside your townhouse, meaning one of your roommates is out for the night, and he parallel parks with an ease you can’t fathom. As he puts the car in park, you unbuckle your seatbelt, turning towards him to say, “Thanks for the ride, and for the company. I definitely had a way better time than I thought I would tonight, working after office hours on Valentine’s Day.”

“Hey, anytime!” he says as he opens his door, and you get out of the car as well. “I had fun laughing at old ladies and disturbing the peace with you.”

“I mean, the latter is Achievement Hunter’s specialty, isn’t it?”

“Gotta represent the brand,” he adds as the two of you make your way to your door, both exchanging dumb smiles.

“So, can I ask a dumb question?” you ask, standing in front of your door, shifting on your feet slightly.

“Hit me with it.”

You know you’ll probably regret asking, but you’ll also regret not asking so, might as well. “Would you wanna, um, go out again?” Before he can even respond, you’re quick to add, “I understand if this like, wasn’t a thing, though; I just, figured I’d ask.”

He laughs under his breath, smiling down at you. “This definitely was a thing, yeah. I would’ve asked you out legitimately weeks ago, but I kept second guessing myself; and when I saw you in the office tonight, I finally kicked my own ass and said something, though uh… clearly not well.”

“Hey, we got there eventually, and I had a great time so, I’d say you did well enough.”

Your smile is incredibly teasing, and honestly, he looks like he wants to kiss you right there. But, instead, he settles for kissing your forehead, and you can’t fight the blush that rises to your cheeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early,” you reply, unlocking your front door, “and I’m taking that as a yes, you do wanna go out again?”

“You’re a nerd.”

You stick your tongue out at him as he smiles, kissing your cheek before continuing, “But yes, that’s one hundred percent a yes.”

You’re practically beaming as you say, “See you tomorrow, Collins.”

“Bright and early,” he grins before walking back to his car, stopping before he opens the door. “Goodnight, (y/n).”

As you say goodbye and close the door behind you, you can’t keep from giggling to yourself, still blushing. Maybe, maybe Valentine’s Day was kind of okay.

If it was with him, anyways.

#trevor collins x reader #trevor collins x you #trevor collins imagine #trevor collins reader insert #achievement hunter imagine #achievement hunter reader insert #rooster teeth imagine #rooster teeth reader insert #ragehappy #trevc0 #mod emily

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teamfreewill-imagine · 8 years ago

Text

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) - Part Twelve

Summary: You fly out for Asylum and meet up with the rest of the cast, only to find out that you have to do your first ever solo panel in front of two thousand fans Words: 4.4k (+ tweets) Jared x Reader x Gen, Misha, Kim, Briana, Danneel, Jensen, JJ Warnings: smut-ish phone calls, mild angst, fluff Beta: @blacksiren

IKYW Masterpost

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In-flight wifi was a God sent gift on the flight to London.

Despite appearing calm and feeling tired, you couldn’t get to sleep for the first few hours due to anxious energy.

You decided to catch up on a Netflix show that Gen had recommended to you, seeing as you probably had a while before you’d be able fall asleep.

The second episode was almost finished when your phone buzzed with a twitter notification, so you waited for it to end before checking twitter.

Now you were the one with a twinge in your heart as you read Danneel’s tweet.

You typed out a reply without thinking about it, hitting ‘tweet’ before you realised that you hadn't posted anything to social media since your baby announcement.

You contemplated deleting it straight away, but likes were already coming in so you knew that someone would have a screenshot anyway.

It was weird for you to think that people would have you on tweet notifications, but the speed that the reactions were coming in couldn’t have all been coincidence.

Deciding to leave the tweet as it was, you muted your phone and put it down in your bag.

You wouldn’t have known what to say if you’d planned your comeback to twitter anyway, so you figured this was an okay way to go.

Pushing the issue to the back of your mind, you continued onto episode three.

The flight landed at Heathrow airport twenty minutes late, so you called Danneel the second you were left in the lounge.

She picked up on the first ring.

“I’ve been waiting for this call for hours,” she told you in place of a greeting, and you laughed softly.

“I called as soon as I could, the plane was just-”

“I know, I know, a little bit late,” she sighed. “I’m still allowed to worry about my girl.”

“Well, no need to worry,” you assured her. “I even grabbed a couple hours.”

You smiled thanks to the member of staff that brought your luggage to you.

“I’m gonna try and sleep some more in the car, but with Misha with me I’m not sure that’ll work,” you told Danneel, surprised to hear a deeper voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey kiddo, you alive?” Jensen asked, and you laughed again.

“Yeah, I’m alive,” you confirmed, hearing Danneel ask for her phone back in the background.

“Does that mean we can go to sleep now?” Jensen yawned, and you found yourself catching the yawn from all the way across the Atlantic.

“Yeah,” you told him. “Tell Dan that she doesn’t need to worry and that I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N says you can stop being a little bitch about it now that she’s landed safe.”

“Hey!” you laughed. “That’s not what I said.”

“He was worried, too,” Danneel insisted, and you rolled your eyes.

“Y’all are such parents,” you teased. “I’m fine. I’ll see you when I talk to Tex later.”

“Okay,” Danneel agreed. “We’ll sleep, but I still want you to text me.”

“Of course,” you assured her, pausing. “How is she?”

“Sleeping,” Danneel told you. “Missing you and Baby Dits.”

You sighed, the twinge back in your heart.

“I’ve never been homesick before but I think that sentence just made me.”

“Try and enjoy yourself,” she reminded you before breaking off into a yawn of her own.

You nodded, contemplative.

“Okay, well,” you sighed. “Goodnight, guys. Get some sleep.”

“Night, sweetheart,” Jensen murmured. “Stay safe.”

You smiled, looking down at your lap.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You too.”

With one last ‘love you’ from Danneel, you hung up the phone.

Due to the slight delay of your flight, you had less time to wait before Misha would arrive. It was still a twenty-five minute wait, but you could entertain yourself for that long.

Getting comfortable in your armchair, it suddenly hit you how far away you were from home, and from JJ.

JJ, who’d already been asking her mom when you were coming home.

You pulled your headphones from your bag, reminding yourself that you’d be talking to her later and that she was safe and sleeping soundly with her family nearby as you searched for what you wanted on Spotify.

You closed your eyes as the Tangled soundtrack started to play.

Surprisingly, Misha was on board with your plan to sleep on the way up to Blackpool.

“It’s a five hour drive, and when we get there it’ll barely be lunchtime,” he reminded you once you were in the car. “So I think sleeping in here makes sense. You and the baby need rest.”

“Baby Ditto,” you corrected, the two of you looking at each other before you burst out laughing. “It’s… sorry. JJ’s name for the baby. Everyone else has been using it, I guess you should, too.”

“Alright, kiddo,” he laughed, shifting in his seat so he was leaning against the window. “You and Baby Ditto need rest.”

Misha was right, you definitely needed the rest.

The two of you were the first of the guests to arrive at the hotel, but you managed to get to your rooms without too much disruption.

Once you’d deposited your suitcases, Misha suggested going on a walk along the coast to find somewhere to eat.

The scent of the sea hit you as you walked down the promenade towards the pier.

The two of you were wearing sunglasses, but nothing else to disguise who you were, and you couldn’t help but remember that there were thousands of Supernatural fans in the city right now.

“It’s not that much of a problem,” Misha assured you. “Maybe someone will snap a picture of us together and the heat will be off Jensen in the rumour department for a while.”

You pulled a face as he looked down to see your reaction.

“Hey!” he gasped, offended. “I’m a good looking guy!”

“I didn’t deny that,” you laughed. “But… dude.”

He shook his head.

“Am I really that repulsive?” he asked and you stopped walking, standing in front of him.

“Nobody said you’re repulsive,” you reminded him, “But you’re more than twice my age. Are you actually offended?”

He finally cracked a smile, and you hit his chest.

“You’re an ass,” you told him, starting to walk again. “I thought I’d actually hurt your feelings by saying I didn’t want to bang you.”

He smirked, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

“There are plenty of girls your age that want to bang me,” he told you, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m not kidding, you should see what people write about me.”

“You need to stop lurking on your tumblr tag,” you told him, and he laughed.

“I don’t read them,” he assured you. “There’s a lot of Deanity shit on that site, too.”

You pulled another face and he took his arm from your shoulders to shove his hands in his pockets.

“People need to stop shipping me with people old enough to be my dad,” you murmured, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Dean and Trinity have the same age gap as you and Jare-”

“Shut up,” you groaned, elbowing his side.

You continued to walk in silence, the ocean glistening in the sun.

“Have you seen the theory about it actually being Jeff’s kid?” Misha asked, and you let out a shocked laugh.

“What?” you asked, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head, laughing.

“No, apparently people think his tweet was a double bluff,” he told you.

“I’ve met him literally one time,” you argued, and he held his hands up in defeat. “Hilarie was there the whole time.”

“I thought you swung both ways,” he teased, and you shoved him.

“Shut up,” you laughed. “God, why do I tell you anything?”

“Because I could say literally anything at conventions and people would take it as a joke,” he offered. “I’ve spilled so many secrets by accident but the fans write it off as ‘Misha fucking with us’.”

You nodded, knowing that to be true.

“Also, I didn’t hear any complaints about Jeff’s age,” he mentioned, sub-casually. “He’s older than me.”

“You,” you sighed, shaking your head. “You are a pain in the ass.”

You were both laughing when you heard a call of Misha’s name across the street.

You looked across to see a couple of girls trying to cross the road to see you.

“You have to take the lead, here,” you told him, pushing your sunglasses back up into your hair as he tucked his into his shirt.

“They’re just people,” he reminded you, smiling as there was a lull in traffic and the girls rushed over to your side of the road.

You FaceTimed Danneel once you were back in your hotel room, knowing that they’d be awake despite the time difference.

You had a few minutes to talk to her before JJ came bursting in, demanding to speak to you.

“Ditto, when you coming home?” she asked you, before even saying hello as she crawled into her mom’s lap.

“Twelve days,” you told her, smiling sadly. “It’ll go quick though, I promise.”

“Daddy said he gets to see you nex’ week,” she pouted. “An’ I gotta wait a whole twelve days?”

“Daddy’s gotta come to Rome,” you reminded her. “You and your mommy are staying home with Arrow and Zeppy.”

“Tom an’ Shep get to go,” she argued, and you looked to Danneel for help.

“Aunt Mama and Uncle Jared are both going,” Danneel answered her daughter. “So the boys gotta go, too.”

“Then they can take me,” she said with a tone of finality.

Danneel sighed, kissing the top of JJ’s head.

“I’m not sure,” she told her. “But I promise you can talk to Ditto every day.”

JJ nodded, looking at you on the screen in front of her.

“Every day?” she asked you, and you nodded.

“Every day,” you promised. “Tell me what you did yesterday.”

The change in subject worked to distract JJ for a few minutes, telling you all about her day, conveniently missing out - as Danneel told you later - the amount of tantrums she threw at bedtime because you weren’t there.

By the time the call ended, you felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest.

You made JJ promise to go to sleep without a fuss while you were away, and she agreed on the condition that you got to have a full Ditto and Tex day when you got back.

As if that was gonna be a chore.

Your phone told you that it was just after 4pm local time, so 10am back home.

You’d texted Jared and Gen when you’d got to Blackpool, and they’d replied a couple of hours ago, so you knew that they were awake.

You decided to call Genevieve to see if they were available to talk at all.

Maybe you were a little homesick. You were in a different country for the first time ever and you missed your family, it was understandable.

You thought it was going to ring out - figuring that they were busy and they’d call you back later - but they picked up on what must’ve been the last ring.

“Hey.”

Just the one word told you that Jared was out of breath.

“Hey,” you laughed softly. “What, did you lose Gen’s phone or something?”

He laughed, breathlessly.

“Or something,” he told you. “How are you? How was the flight?”

Something was still off about his voice, but you were so happy to be talking to him that you didn’t really notice.

“I’m good, and it was long,” you smiled, leaning back against your headboard.

You heard Gen laugh slightly in the background, and you rolled your eyes.

“Mature,” you teased.

Jared laughed too, followed by a cut-off groan from Gen.

Suddenly, you sat bolt upright.

“Are you guys…?” you asked, shaking your head. “Shit, are you fucking?”

Jared laughed, low and deep, before Genevieve answered.

“Didn’t take you long to catch on,” she teased, and you smirked, finding your confidence.

“I’d know the sound of your moans anywhere,” you told her, causing one of those moans to leave her lips. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Or,” Jared offered, “You could stay.”

You bit your lip, when you realised what he was implying.

“I could?” you asked, hearing Gen’s breathless laugh on the other end of the line.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “You could.”

You’d just got out of the shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door.

You were only in a towel, your hair dripping down your back, so you called out for them to give you a minute.

You pulled on a sweater - one of Gen’s that you’d only just noticed she’d added to your case - and a pair of sleep shorts. It wasn’t what you wanted to be wearing, but you didn’t want to leave whoever was at the door waiting for too long.

You ran your hands through your wet hair as you walked to the door, opening with an apology on your lips.

Briana cut off your apology by pulling you into a hug.

“Woah, hey,” you smiled as she pulled back. “Good to see you, too.”

“What’s new, hot mama?” Kim asked, pushing past the two of you and making herself comfortable in your room.

You laughed softly, letting Briana in and closing the door behind you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” you asked, perching on the arm of the couch that they’d thrown themselves onto.

“You’re part of the ‘Hot Supernatural Mama’s Club’ now,” Briana told you, and you raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a club?” you asked, and Kim laughed.

“Not officially,” she told you. “But, you know, congrats on the baby.”

You nodded, running a hand over your small bump through the sweater.

“Thanks,” you smiled. “But I didn’t do all the work, Jared should get half the credit.”

Their eyes shot to each other for a moment, before looking back at you.

“Ah,” you cringed. “I thought… I thought you knew.”

“We did not,” Kim told you, sitting up straighter.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“We can keep a secret,” Briana assured you.

“I know, and most of the current cast and crew know anyway. Other than the Supernatural people it’s still hush-hush,” you explained. “Jared’s the father. And I’m kinda… in a relationship with him and Gen.”

They nodded slowly, before a smirk found it’s way onto Kim’s face.

“Sounds hot,” she teased, and you laughed.

“You have no idea.”

She rolled her eyes when Briana’s jaw dropped open, changing the subject to what they really came to your room for.

“Have you looked at the schedule?” Kim asked, and you shook your head.

“I was gonna check it when I was out of the shower but…” you trailed off, your wet hair finishing your sentence for you.

“You’ve got a solo panel tomorrow,” she explained, and your entire demeanor changed.

“Wh-” you cleared your throat, “What?”

“It’s about time, really,” Briana admitted. “You’re main cast, sweetie.”

You shook your head, laughing awkwardly.

“Do you think the organisers realise how much the fans hate me?” you joked, but Kim didn’t find it funny.

“We have our duo ops during your panel,” she told you. “So we can’t even just force our way onto the stage.”

“We heard what happened with Kat last time,” Briana added. “We wanted to check up on you, but-”

“I’ll be able to handle it,” you insisted. “If anybody starts on me, I’ll get security to ask them to leave. It’ll be okay.”

They both nodded, unsure.

“You also have a panel with Misha on Sunday,” Kim informed you. “Which, honestly, I’m unsure whether that’s better or worse than being alone.”

You laughed, shaking your head and looking down at your feet, wiggling your toes. You wondered, absently, how long it would be before your bump obscured the view.

“Anyway,” Briana smiled, getting to her feet. “Put some pants on, we’re going out.”

You raised an eyebrow, and she grinned.

“Supernatural Hot Mama’s Club, plus Katherine. We’re going out for drinks,” she told you, and you laughed, shaking your head.

“I’m very much not going to be drinking,” you reminded her, but she just shrugged.

“Then you can have a Coke or something.”

“I’m on low caffeine, too,” you admitted, and they rolled their eyes.

“Jesus, then a Sprite, whatever,” Kim told you. “Come out with us. We’ll get food. It’ll be fun.”

You agreed when you realised they weren’t giving up on it.

“What kinda hippy-ass diet have the Padaleckis got you on?” Briana murmured as you ushered her towards the door so you could get changed.

“One suitable for pregnant women that have no idea what they’re doing,” you shot back, and she laughed, hugging you again before patting your bump as she left.

“We’ll be back in fifteen. You better be dressed.”

You laughed, hugging Kim back and kissing her cheek as she followed Briana out into the hallway.

Kim was right, it was fun, and on Saturday morning you were grateful that you couldn’t drink.

You were tired enough from jet lag as it was, you weren’t sure you’d be able to cope with a hangover as well.

Luckily, all you had to do that morning was autographs.

You tried to interact with people - as much as the event staff would let you - so that their experience was as good as it should be for the price they paid.

You knew that you were down as a ‘special guest’, which meant that no level of ticket at this convention included an autograph or picture with you, so anybody in your line had paid extra just for this moment.

You answered questions about the baby when they weren’t too personal, and other questions about the show when you could without giving anything away.

One little girl nearly made you slip up, but you managed to recover it when she asked why you couldn’t tell anyone who the daddy was.

“It’s not fair for me to make that part of his life public,” you explained, gently. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Is he shy?” she asked, looking up at you with big, concerned eyes.

“He is quite shy, yeah,” you agreed, smiling sadly. “But he loves me and Baby Ditto very much, and that’s all that matters, right?”

She nodded, smiling as you signed her poster and handed it back to her.

Something in her innocence, in the lack of judgement in her expression and the concern radiating from her, made you want to tell her the truth.

But, then again, there were hundreds of people in that room - not to mention a PA you barely knew right next to you - so it was better you kept it to yourself.

They’d find out in time, anyway.

Your heart was racing as you walked out on stage, smiling and waving to the fans as if you weren’t silently freaking the fuck out.

You sat yourself down in the stool in the middle of the stage, and waited for the applause to die down.

Once there was a lull, you brought your mic to your lips to say hi.

“I miss Kat,” was what you said, instead.

The crowd started to laugh, and you let out a huff of amusement at yourself.

“I’m not kidding,” you admitted. “She’s like my comfort blanket at these things.”

“You’ll be great!” someone shouted, causing the people around her to clap and cheer.

“I honestly have no idea what to talk about for the next forty minutes,” you replied. “I need help on stage or y’all are gonna find out what a dork I am.”

You noticed the fans lined up at the side of the hall, realising that the first was being kept back by some of the event staff until you were ready to take some questions.

“Oh, please,” you told them, “Let them ask questions now, I have nothing interesting or funny to say. I need some help.”

The crowd laughed, and you smiled, wishing it wasn’t as true as it was.

The first girl stepped up to the mic.

“Hi,” she smiled. “My name’s Emily.”

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you replied, and she laughed softly.

“My question is kind of boring,” she admitted. “I was wondering where your accent came from? Your IMDb says you’re from Los Angeles, but you don’t sound Californian.”

“Where’s yours from?” you asked, hedging the question for a bit.

“Cambridge,” she told you, blushing. “Well, just south of there.”

You nodded.

“Y’all here sound so much fancier than me,” you told them, and the crowd laughed. “I’m serious, like y’all don’t even have to try and it sounds like you got a Masters from Caltech or something.”

You waited for the laughter to die down before finally answering her question.

“I’m actually from Oklahoma,” you told her, nodding when her eyes said ‘really?’. “Born and raised. I moved to LA when I was eighteen.”

“With your family?” Emily asked and you cleared your throat.

“No, ah- on my own,” you corrected. “It was a clean slate, fresh start kind of thing.”

She nodded, thanked you for answering her question, and then left to find her seat again as the next fan took to the mic.

“Hey, it’s kind of a continuation of the last question,” he mentioned, and you nodded. “When you sign autographs, you don’t use your last name. Is that… is that a conscious thing?”

You pulled in a long breath.

You’d wanted questions, and you were getting them, but you didn’t really want to be talking about this.

“I, uh,” you forced a short laugh. “It’s conscious, yeah. I don’t associate myself with that name, really.”

He nodded in understanding.

“So, your baby-”

“Two minutes,” you interrupted, grinning. “Sorry, I had a bet with Briana to see how long my panel would go before the baby was mentioned. Sorry, continue.”

He laughed softly, a blush rising on his cheeks.

“Will your baby take your name?”

“No,” you said, more blunt than you intended under the circumstances. “Sorry, no, my surname ends with me. Baby Ditto will take its father’s name.”

He nodded, looking like he wanted to say something else but not wanting to push his luck.

“What is it?” you asked, kindly. “C’mon, I don’t scare easy.”

“I was just thinking… isn’t it lonely?” he asked. “Not talking to your family? Your parents?”

You shook your head.

“It’s… it used to be,” you allowed. “But now… it’s different. Danneel called me, earlier. Just while we were breaking for lunch, she’d just woken up with the twins so she called to check on me.”

‘Aww’s went around the hall, and you smiled, nodding.

“She’s the only mom I need, y’know?”

The fan at the mic nodded, apologising for the personal questions.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, and he thanked you before leaving the line.

The next girl stepped up as your phone started buzzing in your pocket.

“Shit, sorry, one sec,” you smiled, pulling your phone out to see Danneel trying to connect with a FaceTime call. “Speak of the devil.”

You answered the call with your mic to your lips, ready to talk to Danneel on stage and tease her for interrupting your panel.

To your surprise, JJ’s face lit up the screen.

“Uh, Tex, what are you doing with Mommy’s phone?” you asked, and the crowd burst out laughing.

“Mommy said I could play on it,” she told you, looking very proud of herself.

“Does calling me count as playing?” you asked, and she shrugged.

“She said I could talk to you later,” she offered. “And… it’s later, Ditto.”

‘Aww’s flooded the room once more, and JJ frowned at you.

“Wassat?” she asked.

You stood up, turning around so that she could see the audience.

“I’m on stage, sweetie,” you explained as the people behind you waved.

She lifted a hand and waved back, still confused.

“Can I call you back in a bit?” you asked, and she nodded as you turned back to sit on the stool.

“Yeah,” she sighed, over-dramatic. Jensen had told you that was something she’d learnt from you, but you’d deny it until the day you died even though he was definitely right. “I just miss ya.”

“I miss you, too,” you smiled sadly.

“Is Baby Ditto okay? Have you been eatin’ veggies?” she asked, and you laughed softly, feeling yourself start to blush.

“Yes I have, sweetie,” you assured her, turning your phone to face the audience. “Can you say bye-bye to all these people?”

“Yah, bye!”

There were calls of ‘goodbye’ from damn-near everyone in that hall, and you smiled as you turned the phone back to face you, seeing JJ’s grinning face.

“What kinda veggies?” she pressed, and you laughed fondly.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” you asked, and she nodded. “Alright, I love you.”

“I love you more,” she replied, automatically.

“And I love you most,” you responded, tapping your lips with two fingers before tapping the camera, and she did the same. “Bye, Tex.”

“See ya later.”

You hung up, putting your phone in your pocket before smiling an apology to the fan at the mic.

“Sorry about that. I promised I’d talk to her every day, and she gets a little impatient,” you laughed awkwardly, and she shook her head.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” she told you, and the crowd cheered in agreement. “And it actually works well, because my question was about the nicknames.”

You smiled, nodding.

“Ditto and Tex?” you asked, and she nodded. “It… Tex is just short for ‘Texas’. JJ’s got the cutest lil’ accent, so I’d been calling her ‘Lil Miss Texas’ and it kinda shortened from there.”

“And Ditto?” she questioned.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“Her dad calls me ‘kiddo’ more often than he calls me ‘Y/N’,” you explained. “The morning after I moved in, they told me I was gonna have to look after JJ all day-”

“Ditto daycare!” someone called out, and you laughed.

“Yeah, Ditto daycare,” you agreed. “But yeah, Jensen and JJ came into my room and she misheard ‘kiddo’ and called me ‘Ditto’. From then it’s stuck. The whole family calls the baby ‘Baby Ditto’.”

“That’s… really cute,” she told you, grinning. “You guys make such a cute family.”

“Tex is my best girl,” you agreed. “I’m lucky to have her as part of my family, now.”

Feedback warms my cold dead heart

@purgatoan, @thelittleredwhocould, @sammylynne321, @ariannalikescake, @writergirl909, @vinylwinchesters, @thisisthelilith, @tlb-kylie, @allinhishands, @winchester-gospels-67, @supernatural0826, @greek-geek481, @mija-novella, @nerdysandwichqueen, @gemini75eeyore, @imaginespnr5er, @green-love-red-fantasyhearts, @kelsey-spn, @lafayettrash, @emoryhemsworth, @dearnoonethisisurlovesong, @spnolivia, @remybosslika, @ruined-by-destiel, @fernandasvaldi, @kickasscas67, @theplaidshirtmadness, @quilliamfears, @charity-elizabeth, @haleyhay96, @latinenglishfandomblog, @smoothdogsgirl, @chelseypaigeake, @katymacsupernatural, @prideandprejudiceandbrendonurie, @tiffanycaruso, @juliaschminke, @breakthesociety, @jpadjackles, @lakama15, @lookalivewinchester221b, @abbirae99, @hiddenwritingsintheworld, @karrington7, @leyhikawinchester, @youcanhavit, @faegal04, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @avengersgirllorianna, @burgundycastiel, @mint-and-pastel-pink, @feelmyroarrrr, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @obi-wan-my-only-ho, @aprofoundbondwithdean, @clueless-gold, @trashforwinchesters, @raeeismee, @supernaturalsuperfreakfan, @blacktithe7, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @supernaturalstarbug, @pinkbunnies2001, @madelineannmolder, @danijimenezv, @h4izel, @missbabyfae, @bovaria, @impalaimagining, @im-super-potter-locked, @samcentric-fics, @oriona75, @samsexualdeancurious, @butiaintgonnaloveem, @atc74, @too-much-winchester, @aquabrie, @taylorlaurenthomas, @crowleysaveme, @missvengeance93, @flawsweirdo, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @maxwellthemajestickoala, @castielsgrace-idjits, @typicalweirdbookworm, @relationshipyard, @supernaturalismalife, @screechingfangirlnerd, @aeryntheofficial, @letsfrickfrackhemmings, @summerbee53, @cfordwrites, @pinolief2001, @im-beautifully-sewn, @clariedelalune, @xlarryisreallovex, @archer-whovian-violinist, @asgardianvamp21, @shadowpriestess6, @writingbeautifulmen, @l8nitl0vr, @wificrazymisfit, @buckybarnesisalittleshit, @crowleysthornybeauty tags are closed because this took me 20 years

#ikyw #i know your wife #spn rpf #jared x reader x gen #supernatural #asylum 18 #misha collins #danneel ackles #jensen ackles #briana buckmaster #kim rhodes

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moonlightkth · 8 years ago

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You're The Only One

❁ Request: So can you do a Yoongi imagine where we’re in a big fight and you flinch as he does something ? ❁ Group: BTS ❁ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader ❁ Genre: Angst || Fluff ❁ Word Count: 1392 ❁ Summary: Yoongi comes home, only to ignore you the entire time. After getting fed up with getting ignored, you try to talk to your boyfriend only to be accused of cheating on him with one of his members. ❁ Authors note: I am so so so so so sorry that this took so long, i really hope you like it. Also I am really sorry if this is bad, I haven’t written anything other than school assignments for over a year and I’ve never written in second person before. Thank you so so so much @evalocity for not only encouraging me write this, giving me some ideas and editing it, but for also continually telling me that I am a good writer who is capable of finally finishing this imagine. ily boo xx. feel free to send me how i can improve in my ask box! (this future english major probably, doesn’t even know how to properly space out paragraphs so lol if someone wants to tell me how to do that feel free) also I might rename this later on

You were working on your school essay on your laptop in the living room as your boyfriend, Min Yoongi, was writing some new songs in his studio at Big Hit. You’ve had the assignment for a few weeks now, but you had never really found the time to work on it as you wanted to focus on your upcoming 2 year anniversary with Yoongi and you wanted that day to be perfect as your boyfriend was luckily scheduled to be home that day. You finally had it entirely planned out, which allowed you to finally start to work your essay that was due in a few days. As you continued to diligently work on your essay, you heard Yoongi walk into your shared apartment. You looked up as soon as you saw the door getting opened to see him with a grumpy expression on his face, although you thought nothing of it as he was probably like every time he was back from work. This expression looked a bit different though, and thinking that he was just a little bit extra tired today, you continued to work on your essay. As Yoongi started walking towards you, you quickly moved your laptop off of your lap so you could give him his usual kiss but, just as your lips were about to touch his, you felt your boyfriend moving his head causing you to kiss him on the cheek instead. Yoongi stopped for a split second and then walked straight past you, going to the kitchen island and taking out his songwriting notebook to write some new songs, your eyes following his every move. You were slightly confused now, as no matter what type of mood he was in, Yoongi never failed to give you a kiss when he came back from a harsh day. You turned your attention from your boyfriend back to your laptop, still thinking nothing of his mood and wanting to complete your essay as soon as possible. Putting your laptop back on your lap so you could continue to work on your essay, you heard a loud, frustrated groan coming from your right. You quickly turned your attention to Yoongi, waiting for him to come hold you in his arms like he usually did when he got stressed out while writing songs, but as nothing happened you asked him, “Oppa, are you okay?” After a few seconds of silence, you decided to speak up again. “I have a feeling that you’re stressed. Do you want me to make you tea or something?” You asked, looking at him and smiling softly. Once again, you had no answer. You sighed, feeling sad because your boyfriend must be been so stressed that he won’t even talk to you. “I’m nearly done the fourth paragraph of my essay so once I’m done with it, do you want to come here and watch a movie? It’ll be a good stress reliever for the both of us,” You said, hoping that this would get you a response from Yoongi. As your only answer was once again the complete silence, you had finally concluded that your boyfriend was ignoring you specifically. As you finally realized that he was, it was natural that you would want to know the reason why. You moved your laptop from your lap to an empty spot on the couch to your left so you could go talk to your boyfriend and figure out why he was ignoring you. Slowly and awkwardly walking up to him, you had your right cheek slightly sucked in, a nervous habit you have had for a long time. “Yoongi-oppa, what’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?” You asked slowly, not wanting to anger him even more, assuming that he was at least. You stared at him as you slightly bit the right corner of your lips, another nervous habit you had. Nervously watching as Yoongi put his songwriting notebook into the backpack he brought to the studio and practice room, you saw him getting up from his chair as he was now standing in front of you intimidatingly, causing you to take a slight step back in fear. “I think anyone would want to ignore someone who’s cheating on them,” Yoongi said with detest in his voice. As soon as you heard these words, not only did you feel your heart drop but your jaw also lightly dropping in surprise. Quickly grabbing onto Yoongi’s hand as you wanted to quickly convince him that you weren’t cheating on him, you replied, “Yoongi-oppa, what are you talking about?” locking your eyes in his. Yoongi quickly ripped his hand from your grasp and reached for his bag, taking out a few pieces of paper and handing them to you. The pieces of papers were screenshots from a kpop gossip website and a few random Twitter and Tumblr accounts all saying the same thing, that you were cheating on Yoongi with his best friend and co-member, Hoseok. The sight of this news made you lightly laugh, mainly because your boyfriend was believing these ridiculous rumours but also because of the fact that he screenshotted them and printed them out. The screenshots consisted of all the ‘dates’ you and Hoseok had been on as everyone was saying that it was “bound to happen.” You placed the few sheets of paper on the kitchen island and grabbed Yoongi’s hand again. “Baby, I’m not cheating on you,” you told him chuckling, unable to hide your amusement caused by all the dumb rumours you just had to read. Yoongi once again ripped his hand from your grasp. “I mean why would I even cheat on you? You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” By this point, you were absolutely dying of laughter. You couldn’t believe some of the things you had to read about your’s and Hoseok’s ‘relationship ’, as some of the things were so absurd that you believed that the media would do absolutely anything to get publicity. You continued to giggle as you watched the expression on Yoongi’s face change, but as you never been really able to read Yoongi well, you couldn’t really tell if he was happy, sad, embarrassed or even angrier than he previously was, judging by the look he was giving the sheets on the kitchen island, you concluded that he was indeed angrier. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed, you thought, maybe he believed you until you started laughing at him. You flinched as you saw Yoongi raise his right hand, and as soon as he saw your expression, he dropped his hand and cradled you in his arms. “Baby I wasn’t going to hit you,” he said as he rocked you back and forth in his arms. Yoongi pulled you away from him slightly to wipe the tears you didn’t realize were rolling down your face. “Shit. I was just going run my hand through my hair because I was embarrassed. Shit, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I made you flinch,” he added in a rush and some of it in Satori, a nervous habit of his. You gave your boyfriend a soft smile and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You know I’m not cheating on you, right?” You asked, wanting to make sure that your boyfriend knew you weren’t. Your boyfriend then gave you a quick kiss on your cheeks, your forehead, your nose and finally on your lips. “Of course I do. I’m so stupid for even slightly believing those rumours. But why were you with Hobi a lot? Not that I mind you hanging out with him,” he asked you as you guys moved from the kitchen to the living room. You both sat down on the couch, cuddling with each other. “He was helping me plan our 2-year anniversary date,” you answered blushing, wanting the date to be a surprise. Yoongi looked at you lovingly before giving you another kiss on the lips, this one lasting a little bit longer than the previous kisses. “You are absolutely adorable y/n,” he said before kissing you one more time. You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, “I love you Min Yoongi,” you said smiling to yourself as you looked at your laptop that Yoongi moved without you realizing it. “I love you too, y/f/n.”

(y/f/n = your full name)

#bts #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts suga #bts yoongi #agust d #min yoongi #min yoongi imagines #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #imagines #requested

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tylerbiard · 8 years ago

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Y and Z

Do you guys remember when analysts, insiders, and marketers were trying to “crack” the Millennials (Gen Y)? It wasn’t even that long ago when articles on figuring out how to connect with my generation were vogue. My dad even attended a conference on how to integrate Millennials into the workforce, circa 2010. It still happens from time to time, but now, things are shifting towards figuring out my successor, Gen Z. Makes sense, I guess, considering they’re almost as large as the Millennials and the Boomers, and despite the oldest members being 21 (born in 1996), people haven’t really been looking at the differences between those my age and those born a decade later, largely because they’ve often been lumped in with Millennials.

I’m towards the tail end of the Millennials (born in ‘93), and so I have some friends that are at the beginning of Gen Z, but overall, my friends tend to be Millennials, both younger and older. In some regards, I find more similarities with early Gen Z members than older Millennials, but altogether, I’d say my affinities are definitely more with the Millennials than Gen Z. That’s not a slight against Gen Z, rather just a noted difference, which will probably become blurred as we all get older anyways. Going back to school well past when most people do also puts into perspective a bit of the difference; many of my classmates in first year courses were fresh outta high school (born in ‘98) and it does make me wonder where things are headed as Gen Z grows and matures, and where the generation follows it takes us as a society.

With the Millennials, Boomers and Gen Xers had to learn how to professionally work with a generation that grew up with the Internet in its infancy, with a generation that was given so much from its parents, including growing up being told we’re each our own “special snowflake” and that we should reach for the stars, and so long as we got a degree -- any degree -- we’d be happy. We were considered idealistic, liberal, and tech-savvy.

Well, now, everyone’s used to it, and perhaps because Gen Z is also very tech-savvy and educated and grew up being given participation ribbons, nobody sought out the difference until more recently. But there are differences. Gen Z is more conservative apparently (I don’t see it in terms of social issues), more into “branding” oneself and generally more consumerist. Gen Z is also way more immersed in digital technology than I ever was growing up. I remember into junior high knowing people who still didn’t have Internet or a cell phone; I can’t see that really happening now except in extreme scenarios. Furthermore, they grew up with high speed internet, not that dial up shit I had.

I’m still one to prefer browsing on a stationary, desktop computer, rather than on my phone. The phone is often more handy when I’m out, but if I have a choice, I’ll always go for the computer. Which is partly why I loathe mobile-specific social media for not being more browser-friendly. Being a photographer is no doubt an influence here, as I like being able to view visual media on a larger screen. But I also grew up with desktops, and was used to having to physically go home to chat with people on MSN, and when I was out, I was basically disconnected. I had a cell phone, sure, but I wasn’t texting on it (which was expensive) or browsing the ‘Net on it (which was even more expensive). None of that happened until I got a Blackberry in 12th grade. Millennials grew up around the PC; Generation Z grew up around iPads and iPhones. Apparently, on average, Generation Z does not value time offline, while I personally value being disconnected on occasion (not permanently -- I’m not that much of a luddite). I know when I’ve spent too much time in front of screens.

Gen Z is also more visual. Well, I’m a photographer, so I’m naturally a very visual person, so this works for me on some level. And as a Millennial, I’m not unaware of short attention spans among my cohort. As digital technology continues to make inroads, it only makes sense that attention spans continue to wane. But even still, I’m here, writing long blog posts and I enjoy photoblogs which are more long-form as well. They aren’t easily digestable, though, which is why there are less viewers. It makes sense that social media, then, has moved towards less politicized, more mobile and visually-orientated platforms like Snapchat and Instagram, while Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr are waning, especially among Gen Z. I’m not too happy about that, to be honest. I find value in political discourse and believe that if we don’t fight for rights we may as well not have them. You’re not getting discourse if you’re busy posting aesthetic selfies on Snapchat. It seems like youth (including Millennials) have kinda accepted things as they are, and, perhaps due to overstimulation, are a bit fatigued at all the information out there, and so there is a certain sense of complacency. The general mood of memes seems to be “yeah, the world is shit, I’ve accepted it doesn’t make sense and therefore I’m gonna shitpost rather than do anything about it.” Maybe I’m reading into it too much but I’ve seen others corroborate this mindset. It’s quite a different mentality from 7 years ago, when Twitter was at peak, which is all about discourse, often political. I don’t think the interface of many websites now helps, which bombard you with ads and offers before you can see anything.

It’s a bit early to say, as the youngest Gen Zers are between 0 and 7, depending on who you ask, but I hope one thing that Gen Z and its parents (mostly Gen X) learn from the Millennials is regarding education. It seems like the eldest members of Z were brought up with the same ideas as us, though. I hope that they realize that it is important still to follow what you’re passionate about and you do need to find something of a career that you will enjoy, but I hope that there is more of a practicality about it. My generation was told we’d be set as long as we had a degree -- any degree -- and I can tell you that that simply isn’t the case. It isn’t that there are “worthless” degrees, but that there are degrees which require you to market yourself harder than if you got an Engineering degree and then becoming an Engineer. I already know a few older Millennials who went down that path, and are or have gone back to school later for something more practical yet still enjoyable. Academia works for certain fields, certainly, and the program I’m in is practical, but we’ve flooded universities too much because we’ve imbibed the idea that we need a degree to succeed, which is utter poppycock. A lot of people in university would be better suited to a technical school or a diploma of some sort, which often yield great success without having to pay back a mountain of student loans. I don’t know if Gen Z will learn this, as I know parents of Gen Z kids who’ve really imbibed the post-secondary ideal as much, if not more, than the Millennial’s parents.

I guess if you’re reading between the lines, I’m a bit sardonic about the future. It’s nothing to do with Millennials or Gen Z specifically, as we’re both products of the time we grew up in. A friend of mine joked that I was “born too late” and, considering how slow I sometimes I am with accepting technological trends and how much I like late 20th century pop culture, maybe he’s got a point. But it’s always easy to romanticize the past. The ‘50s were great, if you don’t factor in how close we were to nuclear annihilation or how discriminatory the hegemony was. Furthermore, I’ve definitely become far more aware of things due to being able to access the Internet than if I grew up in an earlier time. Despite the overstimulation, I think we can take for granted how much more aware we are able to be now; friction of distance has been reduced to rubble. Also, my earlier comments about Gen Z favouring visual, favouring mobile, really apply to us all. Millennials have orientated towards these formats, as well as older generations. It definitely seems like my grandparents are more into their smartphone than they ever were Windows 98. It’s just Gen Z is the generation that has no basis of comparison to a pre-mobile era, just like Millennials can’t compare to a pre-Internet age (except maybe some of our eldest members), and both have an influence on their respective generation.

Still, I’m not only curious how I’ll survive progress, but how society will as a whole. America is in late empire, and there is no new Western power to take the helm like after Britain. It’ll be interesting how that plays out for still-maturing Western countries like Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, but it seems like we’re shifting to a pre-Columbian paradigm dominated by the East. As with any change, there’s uncertainty, although America will likely remain a major player in geopolitics for the long term, even if less hegemonic in scope. I’m even more curious about what will become of us once those degrees we hammered thousands upon thousands of dollars on are rendered obsolete by AI. Some say the singularity is nigh, some say it already happened and we were too busy tweeting to notice. But I don’t think it has happened in the Kurzweilian sense, and once that happens, it’ll be interesting to see where things go. If we can “survive” it, we’ll probably be better off. But then there’s still climate change. Maybe once we become a (hypothetical) Kardashev Type 1 civilization, we’ll have progressed towards not killing ourselves over differences and will have finally survived progress.

But for now, I still have to live in a world ruled by filters and brands, all-the-while we became increasingly connected yet disconnected. Maybe I’ll fuck off to Dawson City before having to bear the full front of our digital future. Sounds nicer for someone unwilling to embrace digital advances like so many of my peers. Then again, how different, really, is seeing a bunch of people, disparately glued to their phones, from seeing a different bunch of people glued to their books. Despite being social animals, we’ve long desired our own “space” and privacy, at least in the Western world.

#generation z #millennials #shitposting #futurism #progress

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