forward the first

3
Misha Collins @ SeaCon

was pretty much worth the price of admission, tbh:

  • When asked what he shipped, went off on a tangent about how when he first started conning few dared ask that question and he had no idea what it meant (while now he knows what an OTP is), and then said he wasn’t going to give his usual answers with the car or Bobby, before finally saying, ‘Well, I’ve written a lot of Wincest.’
  • Thinks Cas prefers to be an angel rather than a human (because he’s going to be a weird misfit dork as any species and at least as an angel he’s got superpowers).
  • When asked where is Sam’s handprint brand from when Cas pulled him out of hell, gave a pretty much unrepeatable answer about doing it where/how it wouldn’t leave a visible scar. It’s what you’re thinking, if you have a dirty mind. There were gestures. And the Cas voice (something like, “It might sting…”)
  • Confirmed the existence of X-rated cast&crew-party-only gag reels.
  • Is unbelievably adorable with his kids (which, obviously, but the way his voice changes around them, aww).
  • Would not win the Newlywed Game (because he and his spouse are not newlyweds!)
Beanies and Negotiations (Part 4)

Originally posted by dailyriverdale

Part one here    Part two here    Part three here

Anon requests: can you continue the beanies and negotiations series !!! it’s great btw i really wanna see where it goes !!

please beanies and negotiations part 4 it’s sooo good

Could you PLEASE do a part 4 of Beanies and negotiations?? It’s so good and I love your writing!

Part 4!

could please do a part 4 for beanies and negotiations it’s sooo good ! love your blog btw

A part four would be aWESOME

Beanies and negotiations part 4??

I think I’m speaking for everyone when I say we want more of Beanies and Negotiations!!!

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A flash to the past and a flash to the future

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,161

A/N: ok, I’m gonna be honest with you guys: I did not want to make a 4th part.  I had written the 3rd part hoping it would give you guys enough closure, but you requested more.  Now that I’ve written it, I couldn’t be happier with this ending.  Enjoy!!


(Y/N), Betty, and Archie were running around, playing in the park.  Their giggles resonated through the neighborhood, all the people down the street able to hear the children perfectly.  Archie’s dad sat on a bench, supervising them from afar.  He smiled at the three kids, happy to see his son so content with his friends.  Suddenly, (Y/N) halted, interrupting their game of tag.

“Look over there,” she said, pointing her finger.  She was pointing at another kid who appeared to be their age, scrawny and alone.  He sat on a swing and stared down at his shoes. There was a grey beanie perched on his head, but it was much too big on him.

“(Y/N),” Betty hissed, “my mom said it’s rude to point.”  

“Fine,” (Y/N) replied, putting her finger down.  “I won’t point.”  Instead, she marched over to the lonesome boy.  His head snapped up when he heard footsteps approaching him.  “Hi,” she greeted him.

“Hi,” he replied, looking puzzled as to why this girl was talking to him.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Jughead.”

“That’s a funny name,” she laughed, but she noticed his angered face and stopped.  “I’m (Y/N).”  Jughead nodded.  “How old are you, Jughead?”

“I’m four,” he replied, sticking out his hand to show the number on his fingers.  (Y/N) beamed.

“I’m four, too!” Jughead smiled at her and the two children fell into a small silence.  Finally, (Y/N) broke it when she asked, “Why are you alone?”

“My sister is sick,” he responded, slouching.  “So now I have no one to play with.”

“You can play with us!” (Y/N) offered, pointing at her two friends who were watching from afar. Jughead’s face lit up.

“Really?” he asked, jumping off the swing.  (Y/N) nodded enthusiastically.

“Really!  And then we can all be best friends.”  She grabbed his hand and led him over to Archie and Betty. “Archie, Betty, this is Jughead.”

“Hi,” Betty smiled, sticking out her hand.  Jughead tentatively shook it.  “I’m Betty.”

“And I’m Archie,” he waved. Jughead waved back.  The children quickly resumed their game of tag, this time, Jughead joining them.  They played for hours until the sky began to darken, Riverdale turning orange under the sunset’s light.

“Kids!” Archie’s dad called out, standing up from the bench.  “It’s time to go.”  The four kids exchanged bittersweet smiles, waving goodbye to their newfound friend.


After that day, Betty, Archie, and (Y/N) started begging to go to the park every day from dawn till dusk. The four of them soon became attached at the hip, and you could not see one person without the other three close behind.  Soon, all of Riverdale grew fond of the tight-knitted friend group.

Two years later, the four inseparable friends found themselves in Archie’s backyard.  Their shrieks of delight filled Mr. Andrews, who was watching from inside the kitchen, with warmth.  They had just grown bored of a game of hide-and-seek, and while Betty and Archie just sat in the grass, Jughead and (Y/N) continued to chase each other around.  Suddenly, Jughead stopped, causing (Y/N) to turn around.  He took off his beanie and, grinning madly, got down on one knee. Betty and Archie gasped as they ran over to watch.

“(Y/N),” Jughead started, holding out his beaning like a ring, “will you marry me?”  (Y/N) beamed as she stared at her best friend.  She took the beanie from his hands and placed it on her head, then helped Jughead stand up.

“We’re much too young to get married, Juggie,” she responded, and Jughead deflated.  “But-” he perked up, “ask me again when we’re eighteen and I’ll say yes.”

“You promise?” Jughead asked, holding out his pinky.  (Y/N) smiled and nodded, hooking her pinky with his.

“Pinky promise.”


Flash forward twelve years, after the first proposal and Jason Blossom’s death.  Past the beanie incident and the flannel, jacket, and sweater incidents.  After the kiss at Pop’s, and many more that happened after that night.

Twelve years after Jughead proposed to (Y/N) with a grey beanie, they graduated.  Through the years, their friend group grew to include others, such as Kevin and Veronica.  After the graduation ceremony, they went to the Lodge’s house for a celebration.  The party was in full swing: music blasting from the speakers, snacks filling up tables, and graduated high school students dancing everywhere.  (Y/N) had managed to get Jughead on the dance floor, both of them laughing at each other’s lack of dancing skills.  She wore his grey beanie and a wide grin.

The party began to die down, everyone growing tired after their long day.  Most people were sitting on the couch, quietly chatting amongst themselves.  (Y/N) sat on Jughead’s lap as they both conversed with Betty and Veronica. Suddenly, Jughead got up from under (Y/N).

“Excuse me, can I have everyone’s attention?” he yelled, successfully silencing the guests.  “Thank you.  Now if you didn’t happen to already know this, (Y/N) and I have been together for quite a while.”  Everyone in the room chuckled.  (Y/N) looked up at Jughead with a puzzled smile.

“What are you doing, Juggie?” she whispered, although everyone was able to hear her.  Jughead winked at her and continued.

“But something most of you probably didn’t know is that I proposed to (Y/N).”  The crowd gasped dramatically, and Jughead smirked.  “When we were six.”  Everyone rolled their eyes and laughed.  Jughead grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and made her stand up with him.  “And she said no!  Something about how we were too young,” he scoffed, and she giggled. “But she did promise me she’d say yes one day.  When we were eighteen, in fact.”  He got down on one knee, and everyone gasped, including (Y/N).  

“Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath, her hands covering her mouth in shock.  Tears began to cloud her eyes.

“(Y/N),” Jughead began, fishing around in his pocket.  “I have loved you since the day I proposed to you.  For a long time after that, I thought we were just friends, and I thought that you liked it that way.  And it took me a long while to realize it, but with the help of some of our friends-” Archie, Betty, Veronica, and Kevin shared a smirk, “I realized that we were meant to be more.  Now, I’m gonna try this again, and I’m hoping this time you’ll say yes.  Because, you know, you pinky promised you would when we were six.”  Jughead pulled out a small box and opened it, revealing a beautiful, sparkling ring.  “(Y/N),” he asked, eyes full of hope, “will you marry me?”

(Y/N) couldn’t speak. She gleefully nodded, attempting to wipe some of the tears off her face.

“Yes,” she finally managed to choke out, laughing.  “Yes, of course, Juggie.”  The whole room burst into cheers, and Jughead shot up, placed the ring on (Y/N)’s finger, and kissed her.

Betty turned to Veronica, smiles plastered on both of their faces, and whispered, “Thank god for that beanie.”

4

When colors mix, they become muddy and messy. But when they all blend together…

In Regards to Hate: On Victuuri

I don’t know what suddenly happened again but there’s a shitton of hate for Victuuri/Viktuuri(/etc) in the tags lately. People are welcome to feel however they want for a particular ship, but I just wanted to give my two cents by tackling the common complaints I’ve seen. I’ll start from the beginning so I’ll be addressing basically all the arguments against this ship I’ve seen so far. I’ve tried to maintain some sort of order for these, but honestly I just winged it at some point.  A lot of these arguments are also heavily character-based, so keep in mind that I’ll be deconstructing several scenes as well as character motivations as I go.  (As a note, this assumes you’ve seen the whole show. Also, I’m only using canon evidence from the show itself.)

This is like an informal follow-up to my super old post but also not really.

No I’m not avoiding work why would you say that.

WARNING: This is a massive post/wall of text. Grab popcorn.

Keep reading

6

Fitz’s confidence is improving bit by bit (3x20 vs 4x10)

BRACELET

Imagine starts at 55 seconds.

“You guys having fun?”

The thousands of cheers from around the sold out stadium echoes through the cool night, every single one directed towards Justin. It’s kind of crazy to think about it - that people literally spend hundreds of dollars just to see him from what probably is a shitty seat at the back of an arena, but at the same time its flattering, and by now I bet his rather used to it.

“I don’t know if you guys heard me, Are you guys having fun tonight?!” He repeats into the mic, fiddling with the gold chain bracelet around his hand.

Once again the stadium filled with screams and cheers from the beliebers, this time twice as loud. I watch as Justin let his eyes drift over to the side of the arena, and decides to yell “Top row, you guys having up there?!” And they continue to cheer.

Then the other side, “What about this side, you guys having fun up there?!”

A small smile fell onto his face as he leans back and removes the gum from his mouth muttering, “Alright, as long as were having fun. Just livin’ the moment.”

Then continues to move forward and lightly strum the first notes to Cold Water. A second later his hand moves back to his mouth, placing the gum he removed earlier back inside. I can’t help but roll my eyes at my boyfriends indecisiveness. Once more he continues to strum the guitar before for the third time, removing his hand and looking down onto the chain.

“This damn bracelet is annoying.”

Suddenly moving his wrist towards the guitar and using his bracelet to tap the strings while saying, “You see all this noise, I don’t like that noise. It sounds wrong. I’m not diggin’ it.”

I can’t help but smile. Its so cute when he just speaks his mind, and I can tell the crowd feels the same since I do notice a few people chuckling up the front.

Turning towards the wings of the stage, where Scooter, I and the backstage crew are all standing, he jokingly adds, “See Y/N this is your fault - Giving me this bracelet.”

After fumbling around with it for a while trying to remove it, he grumbles “Stupid bitch.” Under his breath, causing not only me but the crowd to laugh. “One second guys.” He announces.

While still attempting to take off the bracelet I bought him for our 3 year anniversary, he decides to make a witty joke, beginning it with, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

The crowd actually responded with a whole lot of “Why’s?” And justin immediately respondes with “He wanted to get to the other side.”

A small smile cracks his lips as the crowd chuckles at his terrible joke and even chose to acknowledge how dumb it was by adding, “That was stupid.” then adds “but it was funny.”

Finally giving up, his head shoots up to look around the crowd asking “Does someone wanna come help me get this off my wrist?”

Girls from the crowd shoot up and cheer immediately with there hands in the air. As for Justin who is still sitting and waiting for someone come to his rescue. Scooter waists no time in suddenly beginning to push on my back, motioning me forward.

“What?”

“Go help him.” He demands with a smirk.

“What?!” My eyes trail down my body, instinctively cringing at my purpose sweatpants and staff hoodie I chose to wear. I looked terrible. “Nah-ah. No way.”

“Who cares about what your wearing, go help him!” He chuckles.

“I care! Plus I don’t wanna just walk out on stage! That’s scary.” I pout but scooter shows no remorse.

“Just go!” He puts his arms on my shoulders and pushes me out onto the stage. This time, I can’t turn back because by the way every one in the crowd has heightened there screams, they’ve definitely seen me.

I sigh and mentally note ‘there no turning back now’ before jogging forward over to the seat Justin was seated on by the edge. Justin’s eyes trail around the stage, looking for the reason the screams in the crowd have increased, and once seeing me making my way over, smiles and extends a hand for me to grab.

I don’t hesitate to reach for his gesture and quickly dash over to remove this bracelet as fast as I can so I can get off the stage as soon as possible. At first, Justin is no help at all. Instead, he begins rubbing my arm and trying to get me to sit and stay next to him. “Justin, stop fidgeting.” I laugh.

Justin shrugs his shoulders as if not having any idea what I was talking about before settling and begins cooperating with the process. This bracelet is so damn stubborn! But after some pull and tug, Justin says, “Pull it from this side.”

“Yeah, and you unclip it from over there.”

The crowd aw’s in affection at our teamwork.

As we work together and finally get the bracelet removed, I jump up in achievement and grab a hold of the bracelet myself. As I’m about to make my way back off stage, Justin grabs my arm and pulls me back pouting. “Stay.”

I chuckle nervously and take a glance at the screaming crowd in anticipation, finally turning back to Justin to shake my head.

“Oh c'mon!” He encourages, grabbing my hip and pulling me towards him. I fall onto the seat beside him, my back pressed against his side while his arm rest around my waist. “Have a little fun. I’ll sing you a nice sooong.” He coo’s as if I was a child. “give you a little kiiiss. We can cuddllle.”

“Shut up.” I chuckle to which Justin smiles.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Meanwhile, the crowd has hit the fan, their cheers going wild in a frenzy of excitement. Justin places his arm around my shoulders while using his hand to hold the right notes on the guitar neck. His other hand strumming lightly at the body.

After commenting about how terribly the guitar is tuned, he finally begins singing Cold water in a soft, melodic tone.

“Everybody gets high sometimes you know…What else can we do when were feelin’ low? - C'mon sing it with me baby!”

I chuckle at his enthusiasm and decide to not ruin the song and just keep my mouth shut, but frozen with a smile.

“So I wanna lay with you told I’m old!” He sang, causing my to furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

“Baby you sang it wrong.” I whispered into his side.

Still strumming the guitar, he looks over at me “Really? I did? Well then how does it go?”

“It goes, ’What else can we do when were feelin’ low? So take a deep breath and let it go -…” I quickly sing as Justin smirks.

I hadn’t realised that justin had actually moved the mic towards me, causing my voice to echo throughout the entire arena, the crowd cheering like crazy in the background while Justin smirked menacingly.

“Hey!” I pouted. “You stuffed the lyrics on purpose!”

“How’d you know?” He chuckled sarcastically. “Well, since you started it you gotta finish. C'mon baby lets go!”

With a sigh, I finally decided to just give in and continue with Justin. “And if you feel your sinking….”

Do not think of Hannibal

Inspired by Desolation by the-winnowing-wind

Drive

Halsey song lyric imagine

wordcount: 2.1k

Summary:  Y/N and Jughead take a long drive out of Riverdale for a road trip and discover their hidden feelings for each other 

Warnings: swearing, slight smut, drinking

‘Swerving on the 405, I can never keep my eyes off this’

We’d been driving for hours, we didn’t even know where we were going anymore, or what were running from. The sudden impulsive decision to get out of town and take a road trip was decided by Jughead. He had been distressed at school lately and said he had a lot of stuff going on in his head, and he needed to get away. 

Me being the good friend I am, and caring a great deal for him, didn’t want him to be alone so I decided to make the offer on taking him away for a while. 

Keep reading

It feels nice

Bucky x reader 

Notes: angst(ish), PTSD, fluff, service dogs, isolation, masturbation. 

Summary: Bucky’s been going through the motions ever since he got back from his last tour, missing one arm. Then he meets a girl while walking his service-dog Ziva at an ungodly hour. She might be the breath of fresh air he doesn’t know he’s been missing.

A/N: Hi guys! This story is a one shot AU.Hope you enjoy it! x

There’s something -everything- so calming about being outside before the crack of dawn; sure, it’s because Bucky has trouble sleeping and wakes up at four in the morning and is unable to go back to sleep, but, still. It’s like the world is his own for a while. A short while, maybe an hour before the first early birds show their faces, but a while at least. Usually long enough for him to clear his head after another short night of sleep, maybe after being awoken by a nightmare.

Having a reason to go outside, is even better, gives him a sense of purpose; even if his German Shepard, Ziva, usually gives him the stink-eye for waking her so early.

Keep reading

Knighted- Chapter 1

Have ya’ll seen Tides’ art post for this? We started working on this at the same time, and trust me this is gonna be great. 

Please look at Tides’ art first before enjoying, trust me it makes the build better cause then you know what’s coming and how not serious this fic is gonna get.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Sorry for asking but you're okay with straight allies, right?

in my line of work, you eventually reach a point where you know when you’re being followed. you stop registering exactly what it is that tips you off. it’s one thing, or it’s the other; whether it was the snap of a twig, the skittering of an animal into hiding behind you, or an eerie silence drawn too long, it doesn’t matter. what matters is how you deal with it after you realise.

this is one of those moments i can’t dial back to figure out what set it off. i’m focused on the details of the present. i’m focused on making sure i don’t change my pace. making sure i don’t look like i suspect a thing. the rhythm of walking is familiar, almost casual. you don’t live this long if you’re not good at what you do, and accusations of ego be damned, i am one of the best.

the checklist in my head runs faster than the small hand of my watch, a blur of contingencies. marked: the gun readied in my grasp, the knife in my boot, the twinge of pain in my left shoulder. security got one good hit in before i was gone. some part of me thinks i let that happen. that i wasn’t entertained enough to bring flawlessness into tonight’s equation.

it’s an easy figure that i’ve been trailed since i left. the night is disturbingly still, even for what it is. in this part of the world, the darkness brings a cold that bites right into your bones.

the alley i turn into smells overwhelmingly of blood.

not willing to take chances, i don’t bother stopping to see where the scent’s coming from. i could be drowning in the stuff now and not know it. by the overpowering stench, i might well be. the minutes have been gauged down to the final heartbeat, and this is exactly when it’s about to turn. whoever is following me should know by now that i know. the only thing we have left to figure out is who wins this game.

it doesn’t take longer than a few seconds, drenched in vertigo. there is a resounding crack against the brick wall of the alleyway, and i whirl to take a step forward, handgun-first. my free hand has found its position at the switch on my earpiece, ensuring HQ will hear every second of what is about to ensue. the breath i’ll use to tell my attacker to stand down has already been taken by the time i realise there is no one there.

jerkily, as if witnessed under strobe lights, i lower my weapon. the quiet buzz of my earpiece seems muted underneath my suddenly racing heart. everything flickers. in the suffocated seconds between, i raise my hand to my face. the alley doesn’t smell like blood; my nose is bleeding. i search blearily for a solution. poison? that would explain the fogginess.

a swear under my breath gets filtered out and hidden underneath the sickly saccharine tone of a voice behind me. “sorry for asking,” it croons, “but…”

my vision is a flashing, afterimage-infested mess as i spin to try to track the source of the voice. what i see is something i’m not certain i really see at all, something i doubt you could find in daylight. something i doubt you could find anywhere that still holds life. i fumble for my gun again but the beast before me takes hold of my hand and stills it. it is so close to my face that i can see nothing else. an acrid smell, like petrol, covers up even the blood.

in my head i’m begging for something to happen, praying that my earpiece still works. someone has to hear this. someone has to help or snap me out of this nightmare. i’ve been here long enough to know how to show no fear, but it still catches up with me. i hear the twinge in my voice, spitting, “don’t touch me,” and pretending it is some kind of threat.

the beast doesn’t heed it. it leans in further, brushing against my cheek. i do not want to hear the question it has. i expect it to kill me.

“… you’re okay with straight allies, right?” the beast whispers, and i hear the remaining static from HQ fizzle out.