headed goal

My Babygirl-Part Nine

My Babygirl masterlist

“Ohhh.” Dean slightly winced as he watched you ram into the girl who had the soccer ball so that you could steal it. At nine years old you had this sense of fearlessness that Dean took credit for. He couldn’t help but cheer with the crowd as you broke away from the others on the field and headed straight for the goal. He watched as you score for a second time that game, thus solidifying the victory for your team since there was only ten seconds left in the game.

He stayed at the soccer field for a few more moments but after watching you leap into the arms of who you thought was your father he decided to leave. As he walked away Dean turned back one more time and couldn’t help the proud smile that overtook his face as he saw your teammates swarm around you; some hugged you while others gave you high fives.

“That’s my girl.” Dean said as he turned back around, walking away from you.

Originally posted by lalgibi

Sam and Dean sat in the very back of the recital hall to avoid any attention their presence might cause. They knew that only two people there would know who they were but since it was a private event they weren’t looking to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves.

It took everything Dean had to not fall asleep during the other performances but as soon as your name was announced Dean snapped awake. He watched proudly as you stood next to the piano in your concert dress before sitting on the bench.

The brothers were amazed at how you played; neither expecting a Winchester to have such talent. As you finished your final piece Dean almost burst out with applause but stopped himself when he realized how much attention he would cause to be ripped from you and given to him. Instead he clapped with a large smile on his face. 

Dean didn’t know anything about playing an interment, but for being eleven years old he thought you were amazing. When the concert ended Dean couldn’t help himself from passing by who he figured out was your piano teacher.

“Y/N, your student. One of the best performances I’ve seen from someone her age.” Dean said to the teacher. The elderly woman smiled and nodded her head.

“Oh yes, Y/N has amazing promise. She’s one of the best, and sweetest, students I’ve ever had the opportunity of teaching.” She kindly replied.

Dean simply nodded his head before turning to follow Sam out of the building. A large grin was on his lips, “That’s my babygirl.”

“Dean you have to be calm. You’re gonna gain a bunch of attention if you keep freaking out like this.” Sam tried to reason with Dean who was barely listening to him.

Dean had a routine every morning he woke up. He’d make himself some coffee as he went through the local reports for the town you lived in, just to make sure nothing supernatural was near you. Then he’d check your school’s website to see if anything important was happening, Sam had even hacked into the school’s records so Dean could check your grades. After this Dean would go through your social media sites. He would then follow up by glancing at the local hospital records, just making sure you weren’t there.

Was this routine obsessive? Yes, but Dean wanted to ensure that you were safe. Otherwise what was the point of him staying away?

Normally there was nothing that concerned Dean, that was until this morning when he saw the hospital records stating that you had been admitted with appendicitis.

As soon as he saw that Sam and Dean took off like a bat outta hell for the hospital you were at. Two hours later the brothers were parking the impala and Sam was holding Dean back to prevent him from making a scene inside of the hospital.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this Sammy.” Dean said as they rode the elevator up to the pediatric wing of the hospital where you would reside.

“I know Dean; but it’s what best for Y/N.” Sam sadly replied.

Stepping off the elevator the brothers checked in at the reception area, posing as two FBI agents who had escorted a thirteen year old girl with appendicitis to the hospital who just wanted to make sure she was okay. They were given your room number and they quickly walked towards it, stopping as soon as they could see the window into your room.

Dean felt a weight lifted off of him as he saw you sitting there with different wires attached to you but you still had a smile on your face. A young boy, who Dean assumed was your younger brother, sat next to you while Y/M/N and Ryan were sitting on a couch, laughing at something you had said.

“Oh babygirl, don’t scare me like that again.” Dean whispered to himself as he rubbed his forehead.

Part Ten

There is a lot of fear and uncertainty in the world tonight. When I feel scared, I try to take a step back, close my eyes, and feel my place in the universe instead.

The problems and challenges we face are indeed intimidating and significant, especially when some people fear for their very lives. But there is a future worth heading toward. The universe is so immensely vast. It will endure. And so will we.

“I believe in humanity.”

Crutches-Derek Hale Imagine

Originally posted by deep-love-yam

Pairing: Reader x Derek Hale

Word Count: 940

Warnings: Just Derek acting all cute :*

A/N: Just something I came up with the other day. I had som much fun writing this and I think it turned out really cute :D Enjoy!

“Please coach it looks so fun” Y/N pleaded as she watched the lacrosseteam practise. Stiles caught the ball and threw it to Scott, who scored. Their team cheered while the two bestfriends high-fived. 

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be my assistant. Not run around with some sweaty boys on the field.” Coach Finstock replied.

 "Please, just this one time. I haven’t played in years" She begged. Coach sighed before he shook his head. 

“Just this once” he said. 

“Thank you coach” Y/N smiled, jumping in excitement. 

“Yeah, yeah” Finstock muttered before he blew the whistle. The boys all stopped and turned towards them. 

“Y/N will be on Danny’s team” He shouted. Y/N took a helmet and a lacrosse stick before she walked over the field.

 "Wecome to the team" Danny grinned, high-fiving her. 

“Thank you” she said, while she looked at the others. Coach blew the whistle again and the game began. 

The other team passed the ball between eachother and they were aiming for the goal. Y/N sprinted towards the boy with the ball just as he was throwing it to his teammate. She jumped between the two of them and caught the ball as it flew through the air. Her team cheered as she ran towards the opposite side of the field. Her eyes were glued on the goal. The other team was right behind her and suddenly one of them was in front of her. 

“Danny” Y/N shouted just as she passed him the ball. He managed to catch it before the other team did. Danny ran towards the goal and scored. Everyone on their team cheered while the others groaned.

 "That was awesome Y/N. Where did you learn to play like that?“ Liam asked, looking at her in awe. 

"I was captain back at my old school” she said with a smile.

The game continued. Scott caught the ball and headed towards the goal. Y/N ran in front of the guy that Scott was throwing the ball to and she once again catched it. She started running the other way when she was tackled roughly to the ground by one of the guys. 

She screamed in surprise as the boy landed on top of her. Everyone stopped running and came up to the two of them. Y/N could hear coach shouthing in the background. The boy crawled off her and sat up. 

“I’m sorry Y/N are you okay?” He asked, as he rubbed his elbow. He was bleeding from his mouth and his knee. Y/N shook her head.

 "I don’t know I-“ she cried out in pain, her leg burned as she tried to sit up. 

"I think my leg is broken” she said. Tears were forming in her eyes from the pain she felt. 

“Get out of my way” Coach screamed as he pushed past the group of boys. He kneeled down next to her. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, eyeing her.

“I think my leg is broken” she told him. 

“Can someone please hep me lift her up” Coach demanded. Scott rushed over to her.

“I’ll help” he said as the coach and him helped Y/N sit up. 

“I’ll go get my jeep” Stiles said before he ran off. 


“Y/N!” Derek rushed into the hospitalroom his eyes filled with worry. 

“Derek” Y/N said surprised. 

“Scott told me you were at the hospital so I drove here as fast as I could” He said, walking over to her bed.

 "You’re so sweet" she smiled. 

“What happened?” Her boyfriend asked, taking her hand. 

“I wanted to play lacrosse with the boys” she admitted shyly, looking down at the sheets. “And I was running towards the goal when one of the guys tackled me” Derek growled at her words. 

“I’ll kill that son of a-”

"Derek” Y/N interuppted. “It was an accident" 

"I still want to punch him for doing this to you” He huffed as he looked at her leg, which was in a cast. 

“I’ll be fine. I just need to jump around on those for a few months” she told him and pointed towards the crutches next to the chair. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you Y/N” Derek said, gently brushing his fingers over her cheek. “Always" 


"I’ll do it” Derek said when he saw Y/N reaching towards the blanket. He grabbed it and placed it over her. Derek had brought her home and he had been really sweet the whole afternoon. He had made her dinner and helped her with the laundry and the cleaning, he even washed the dishes.

Y/N found it really cute of him to help, but she was starting to get tired of it. Derek followed her everywhere and he kept an eye on her all the time. She undersood that he meant well, but it was getting kind of annoying.

“Thanks” Y/N said. 

“Something else you need? Water? Some food? Books?” He asked. 

“I’m fine Derek, honestly”

“But I said I’d take care of you” He said, while he took a seat next to her.

“I know, and you are taking care of me. You’ve helped me all day.” Y/N smiled. 

“Just relax for a moment, and watch this movie with me” She begged. 

“But you’re hurt. How could I relax?” He whispered.

“I’m going to be fine, I promise” Derek sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I love you. And I’m still mad at that boy.” Y/N chuckled. 

“I forgive you” she smiled before she kissed him.

“Just promise that you won’t play anymore lacrosse”

thisisloooreleii  asked:

Andreil and #9 please!

I’m sorry this is terrible, but it was fun to write! Thank you!

The Foxes had just finished a particularly taxing game against the Bearcats and Neil was completely exhausted. He leaned against the wall of the stadium, breathing heavily and preparing himself to walk over to the horde of Foxes in the center of the arena getting ready for handshakes. As he headed over to his teammates however, he looked over to see that Andrew was still in goal, fidgeting with his gloves.

He ignored Kevin’s stare and headed over to the goal. He stood in front of Andrew, who glanced up at him, but didn’t respond and promptly resumed ignoring him.

They stayed in this stalemate for an uncomfortable moment before Andrew moved aside and started walking towards the center, clearly beckoning Neil to follow with just a “Staring.”

Neil could tell something was wrong, but he wanted to wait until they were off the court to confront Andrew about what was wrong. However, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle tightening of Andrew’s shoulders with every handshake he had to receive. As they headed off the court, Neil raised an eyebrow at him, but Andrew’s face didn’t move from its normal blank state.

While the rest of the team moved to the showers, Andrew sat down on one of the benches and stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers every few seconds. Neil sat on the floor in front of him and hovered his hand by Andrew’s. “Yes or no?”


Neil pulled his hand away, but didn’t move from his spot. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ll live.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Andrew scowled and said nothing.

“If you’re hurt, we need to go tell Abby so that we can make sure nothing’s seriously wrong.”

Andrew continued the silent treatment. After a few minutes, Neil huffed in frustration and said, “Andrew, let me see your hand. It’s either me or Abby and I know who you’d prefer.”

Andrew thrust his hand out for Neil’s inspection, saying “For a man with a barely there identity, you think very highly of yourself.”

Neil snorted and turned Andrew’s hand over carefully in his own. “And you enjoy making things difficult. That’s not my fault.”

They were quiet for another moment before Neil stood and said, “I’m going to get ice. Can I trust you not to run off?”

“I’m not the runner, remember?”

Neil rolled his eyes, but headed over to where Abby stored ice and brought a pack back to where Andrew was waiting. He waited for Andrew’s nod before pressing it to his palm, ensuring that it was resting on all the affected parts. It was a bit difficult with the way Andrew would hiss and pull his hand away frequently.

Eventually, Neil sighed. “This would be over a lot sooner if you’d stop moving.”

Andrew’s tone didn’t fluctuate much, but Neil knew him well enough to hear the slight petulance in his voice when he complained, “It’s cold.”

“Of course it is. It’s ice. Sit still.”

From there, Andrew was a much more cooperative patient and Neil was finally able to wrap the ice around Andrew’s hand. After a moment, he said, “You realize this is why they call us an old married couple, right?”

Andrew exhaled shortly. “As though I’d marry you. You’re a prime candidate for runaway groom.”

Neil huffed out a laugh. “Do you have to be an asshole?”


“I’m done running. The only thing you’d have to be worried about is me dumping hot soup on you because you’re an awful patient.”

“I’d put sugar in your coffee.”

“I’d put your ice cream out in the sun.”

“I’d throw out your kale bullshit.”

“I’ll bring home a cat.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

They stared at each other for a minute before Neil said, “I win.”
“I wasn’t playing.”

Neil stood up to head toward the shower before the others started complaining. “Don’t be a sore loser.”

“Get out of my sight.”

“Okay, but you forfeit the right to stare at my ass while I’m walking away.”

“I hope you drown.”

“Whatever you say.”

You’re my Mission.

A/N - WHOA hey guys! Guess who’s back?! It’s been like fifteen years and I’m really sorry, a LOT has been happening and I have had zero inspiration along with tons of writers block
Anyways, I’m really not sure about this it’s basically all just back story for what I actually plan on writing, and I’m pretty tired so sorry for any mistakes. Love you guys!
This isn’t a fluff or smut yet and this isn’t really a pairing thing yet and yeah idk what to label this as, aNYWAY


(Y/N)=Your Name
(Y/A/N)=Your Avenger Name
Warnings: Language, Emotional Trauma?


    You quickly shot up in bed, panting heavily.

    “okay.. just a dream.. It’s cool, you’re fine….” you muttered to yourself.

    Once you got you’re breathing back to normal, you laid back down and tried to relax. Seconds felt like minutes, Minutes felt like hours, everything ached inside of you. All you could see was Bucky dying over and over. It was like a record skipping, except with video and audio. You finally gave up on trying to go back to sleep and sat up again, lightly knocking on the wall next to you.

    “Steve..?” you paused for awhile, searching for any detection of the super soldier in the room next to you “Do you think you could come here for a minute.. Cap?”

    There was a muffled groan and some rustling before your door was being opened a couple minutes later.

    “Is it the dreams again?” He asked, padding over to you. You responded with a nod, patting the bed next to you and muttering an apology which Steve immediately brushed off “Hey, I know.. I miss him too.” he offered you a bottle of water before sitting next to you, pulling your body against him. “It’s not like we asked to be frozen though.”

    You, Steve and Bucky all grew up together in Brooklyn. The best of friends, attached at the hips, completely inseparable. In fact you were so inseparable that after Steve went through the pain of becoming practically invincible, he managed to somehow weasel you in along side him by convincing Howard to test the serum on a female. You were with him through the Captain America tour experiences, helped him break out Bucky, assisted in battling Red Skull, and you were even there for the crash.

    The only thing you wished you had missed out on was Buck’s death. It hit you harder than anything ever had before. He was your best friend and though you never wanted to admit to it, he was you first love interest, and potentially your only. Seeing him die wasn’t something you could just bounce back from. To add insult to injury you weren’t even able to properly mourn in a comfortable atmosphere, you were instead chucked from 1943 to 2013 into a world that was nothing like what you knew before.

    It’s not “the future” that bothered you, in fact you loved the 2000’s and adapted quickly. What bothered you was going through it without Buck, being “forced” to join a group of superheros to save the world ((actually, that didn’t really bother you either, you felt like you were in a comic book and that was awesome but you liked to complain)). How could you be anything less than brave when so many people looked up to you?

    When your recurring nightmare began it happened at least 3-5 times a week, and you’d wake up screaming and sobbing. But that was two years ago, now it only happened when you were excessively stressed out.

    “Hey, you know we’re gonna be alright (Y/N)” Steve commented, nudging you with his elbow. “With both of us and Natasha? This winter soldier asshole doesn’t even stand a chance.”


    “It was him. He looked right at me.. and he didn’t even know me”

    “What the FUCK?!” You shouted, kicking your legs causing the guard to tense, and shoot you a warning ((or would be if you could see their face)) but you ignored them

    Sam and Nat exchanged a look “How’s that even possible it was like 70 years ago.”

    Steve tried to begin explaining the experiments Zola performed but you cut him off, not wanting to hear it.

    “That can’t be Bucky, Steve! He fell off a fucking mountain for Christ’s sake!” You were enraged, this couldn’t be happening right now.

    “(Y/N)..” Steve interjected, but Sam cleared his throat turning to the guards.

    “We need to get a doctor here, if we don’t put pressure on that wound she’s going to bleed out in the truck.”


    Steve squeezed your shoulder lightly but you stayed stone faced, staring straight ahead. The two of you, along with Sam and Maria were headed to take down HYDRA. Of course this also included potentially taking down Bucky. That obviously wasn’t exactly something you wanted to deal with.

    Everything seemed to go by in a blur, you were fighting HYDRA agents left and right, headed towards your goal. You, Sam and Steve split off headed straight towards replacing the controller chips. You definitely didn’t expect to find anyone waiting for you, when you got to the chips. But now you were face to face with James Barnes. The two of you stared at each other for a moment too long as you tried to catch your breath.

    “Buck…. It doesn’t have to be like this.” You still barely believed that this metal armed soldier standing in front of you was indeed your best friend. “This isn’t who you are. You’re being brainwashed.”

    As soon as the words left your mouth the wind was knocked out of you as Bucky took you to the ground, causing you to momentarily lose contact with the rest of your team. The two of you fought each other off until you had successfully traded out the chip. You pressed your finger to the ear piece as you sprinted back finalise the replacement.

    “Maria! Can you hear me?”

    “Yes, you’re on!” She responded only slightly delayed. “You’ve got 30 seconds, (Y/A/N)!”

    You spat blood, stumbling when Bucky shot you in the shoulder. “I’ve got it.” You avoided his next shots as you put in the chip. “Now, Hill!”

    “(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of there first!”

     “There’s no time, I’ll be fine.” You panted sinking down and holding your wound, you weren’t actually sure you’d be fine, in fact this is probably where you would die. Holding on to the pole next to you, you tried your hardest to not be knocked completely off the helipad from the force of the explosion, and luckily you weren’t.

    You stood up, finding Buck struggling under part of the structuring. “Steve are you safe?” You asked, making your way down to Bucky.

    You heard Steve sigh at you “I’m with Nat. Are you okay? What’s up with Bucky?”

    “Everything’s cool.” Your response was only slightly a lie, but you had no other answers as you stood before Buck. You grabbed him by his metal arm, dragging him out from under where he was trapped.

    “It’s okay Bucky, this isn’t you..”

    That was a mistake. As soon as he was freed he had you pinned down, knife to throat. “I don’t know you!” He shouted, the knife drawing some blood. “You’re my mission.”

    You struggled, choking on your own blood “and I’m your friend!” You relaxed your body, huffing loudly “so I’m not hurting you. Finish your mission.” You stared up at him “I’m with you til the end of the line.”

    Buck’s grip loosened and he stared at you, tons of emotions crossing his face. Before he could fully react there was a huge crash that sent you plummeting into the water below you two.


“A government that needs any and all dissenters to be murdered,” huh? What about the Separatist Alliance and the Confederacy of Independent Systems? Rather than allowing the Separatists to secede from the Republic and maintain peace, the Republic engaged in war instead.

While it’s true that the Republic did last longer, it became corrupt towards its later years as the Senate became increasingly…unhelpful. When the Trade Federation invaded Naboo, for example, the Senate didn’t provide any assistance. They left the Battle of Naboo to the Gungan Army. And not to be rude, but I wouldn’t trust any government that put my safety in the hands of Gungans.

Keep reading

i’m not climbing a ladder to better. i’m not running a race that requires an accomplishment. those are just empty words we try to tack on the human experience and i’m tired of them. this messy place. this messy me. this good me. then bad me. then broken me. then overjoyed me. then heartbroken again me. there is no climbing, striving, perfect achievement ever. i am not headed to a goal. i have the goal. i am me right now. i have his love right now. and my story is a finished product. that’s it. the end. i don’t have to run and defend and climb and race and better and strive anymore. i am me and my story is my story and i am finished and it is finished and i am so utterly loved by him and he shows me how to love myself and my scars and my heart and my tendencies and my laugh and who i am right now. right here. and so i can kiss other’s scars and laugh into the brokenness and cry tears with other’s anger and let the story be the story. and this, this makes life actually, finally real and whole and full of light.  


Ronaldo’s goal vs. Elche (assist: Isco) | February 22, 2015

- This is Isco’s 8th assist in La Liga this season (one more than Iniesta’s assists last season)
- Cristiano has scored more headed goals (5) in La Liga this season so far than any other player.
- Cristiano becomes Real Madrid’s joint third all-time top scorer with Santillana. Ronaldo scored 290 goals in 281 games, while Santillana took him 645 games to score 290 goals.


I’ve been debating about whether or not to post this– but I can’t quite resist anymore.

Over my years in various fandoms, I have written fanfic off and on. My muse seems to come and go on a whim and she’s been on vacation for quite awhile. BUT I’ve been so inspired by all of the AMAZING Olicity writers. And I really want to try and at least give Olicity writing a better shot.

(You can find my sole Olicity drabble here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2530181)

Anyway– this was all waaaay more lead up than you needed to say that if anyone wants to send me prompts, I am going to try and write some drabbles. See if I can get the muse warmed up a little. :)

I make no promises. But you know….. I’m gonna try.

How to Practice When You’re Sick

So. Let’s say, for whatever reason, you’ve got a bad cold. You licked the spigot of a bubbler, you rubbed your face in the magazines at a doctor’s office, you existed inside a Chucky Cheese without a gas mask - whatever. The point is, you’re really ill. The problem is, you have a recital in two weeks and you desperately, desperately cannot afford to go without practice until you get better. Some people would tell you to suck it up and just practice normally. While that’s fair in moderation, if you’re sick to the point of making normal practice uncomfortable or harder than it normally is, running pieces like that can actually reinforce bad habits if you do it too many times. Here’s what to do instead:

  1. Listen to the piece while reading the score. This is something my piano teacher really recommends. Listening to other people’s interpretations of your piece can really help you understand and spot nuances that you haven’t noticed before. It’s especially useful if the people you’re listening to happen to be masters of your instrument - I spend a lot of time listening to my repertoire as sung by Joyce DiDonato, Anne Sofie von Otter, and Dame Janet Baker, since they are all HIGHLY renowned mezzo sopranos with ranges relatively similar to my own. It helps me to see where I’m trying to get, musically, and to spot what in particular needs improvement first.
  2. Do research on the piece’s origins. It’s honestly hard to interpret a piece correctly without knowing its background - for example, I had a song a while back that (to me) sounded upbeat and dramatic, in a good way. However, I put off learning about it until after the first time I sang it for my teacher, and she seemed a little off-put by my demeanor as I performed. It turned out that the translation of my text was about throwing love letters and, uh, children, into a fire. Long story short, knowing the context of a piece beyond its composer and general date can be very very helpful. Also don’t smile when performing something about burning children.
  3. Analyze the score. Similar to the above, if you’re really aware of what’s going on harmonically in a piece it’s so much easier to do it correctly. If there’s a weird harmony, or cool progression, or anything like that, bring it out! Since I scan and print out all of my sheet music, I’m pretty liberal with my highlighting and marking, and some of my pieces are rainbow-colored by the time I’m done analyzing them. Even just highlighting the climax of the piece so you’re more aware of it can be helpful!
  4. Mime the piece. If you can, run through the piece without sound. Mouth the lyrics, practice the fingerings without using your bow or using any air, or just read through the score and play the piece in your head. It’s better than nothing, and more than once I’ve practiced difficult scales all the way to my piano lesson by drumming their patterns on my car dash. (Don’t do that particular thing if you’re ill though, you need to be paying attention to the road!)
  5. Listen to past lessons. I am a HUGE advocate for recording your lessons. Do it. Always. Listen to them at least once before your next lesson, and take notes, just as a normal habit. However, when you’re sick, take the time you’d otherwise be practicing to listen to lessons from last month, or last semester, or last year, and compare them to where you are now. It’s super encouraging to hear how much progress you’ve made, even if you feel like cringing when you hear what you used to sound like. Take note of the things you’ve improved on the most, as well as the things that haven’t changed, or (god forbid!) gotten worse. Write them down, too, because you’re sick and probably foggy-headed, and the goal here is to remember things that you can work on when you’re better.

The main goal is to take care of yourself, of course. You can’t keep playing if you push yourself until you break (physically OR mentally). So don’t be too hard on yourself for a couple days of not doing anything. Just be sure to keep your repertoire in mind and not let all your past practice come undone. Also, you should really stop licking bubbler spigots, that’s just unhygienic.

anonymous asked:

I am same as you. I don't see how Louis at least can stay closeted for any length of time if Azoff is going full on Expose`. And it really seems thats where its headed. Unless the goal is to make fans appear stupid, which gains them nothing.

Yeah from everything I see I highly doubt this is going to end just with a pat denial. It’s going further than that.