when you hit upon a star

Winchesters in Riverdale (Part Ten/Finale)

After a hunt gone wrong, Y/N Winchester, the 17 year old half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, her older brothers, and Castiel are transported to Riverdale, a town in a different universe. While Sam, Dean, and Castiel attempt to find a way back home, Y/N struggles to fit in in the community of Riverdale. In a universe with no monsters to worry about, there’s so many questions that need answering.

Can she ever try to be normal after hunting for all of her life? Who’s the good-looking, mystical teen with the beanie who’s always at that diner? And will anyone discover that secret she’s been hiding for the last year and a half?

Masterlist for the other parts of this story

—————

There was comfortable silence between you and Jughead as the two of you walked hand in hand together down the street. Your feet were cold on the gravel, your heels forgotten and swinging from your free hand. You didn’t know where you were going but you didn’t care. The dance was forgotten about although you could still hear the faint music. You were with Jughead. That was the only thing that mattered. Every now and then you would sneak a peek at the raven-haired teen. You tried to memorize the way the moonlight bounced off him. The way he smiled at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Everything.

Suddenly, Jughead stopped and turned to look at you.

“Okay, close your eyes.” he said.

You rose your eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Trust me.” he said, smiling.

You sighed but closed your eyes nonetheless.

“Making me the next Jason Blossom?” you joked.

Jughead snorted.

He began to lead you off the gravel road and soon enough your feet felt the hard ground turn to grass.

“Over here.” Jughead said.

Eventually he stopped.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you asked.

“Not yet. Take a seat first,”

You sighed again and sat down, putting your shoes next to you. You heard Jughead sit next to you and felt his warm palms on your shoulders.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Open them,”

You opened your eyes.

As you looked around, you saw that the two of you were in the middle of the park, surrounded by swing sets and jungle gyms and money bars.

You looked up and your mouth dropped open.

The sky, which had previously been covered by trees as you walked in the street had opened up, revealing the beautiful night sky. The full moon shone brightly and there were millions upon million of stars to be seen.

“Not bad, huh?” Jughead asked as he removed his hands from your shoulders.

You looked at the beaming boy whose face was inches away from yours.

“It’s beautiful.” you said.

Jughead smiled shyly before he leaned in, kissing you softly. You smiled into the kiss as your arms wrapped around Jughead’s arm, your fingers running over the few black locks of hair resting on Jughead’s neck that had escaped from his beanie. He stopped kissing you when a sudden gust of wind hit your bare arms making you shiver. Jughead frowned as he looked at you.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m fine,” you said. “It’s just—”

You were cut off when you saw Jughead quickly taking his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders.

You smiled as him as you pulled the warm fabric closer to you.

“Thank you.” you mumbled.

Jughead smirked and draped his arm around you. The two of you lied down and you snuggled into the younger teen’s warm chest, Jughead’s arm pulling you closer to him. The two of you looked up at the night sky, looking up at the sky.

You didn’t know how long you laid there for before Jughead spoke again.

“What’s her name?” Jughead asked suddenly.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. Jughead looked panicked.

“I, uh, I-I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he rambled, convinced he had ruined everything. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said—”

To his surprise, you giggled, cutting him off.

You changed your position so you were facing him, your elbow supporting your head as you rested it on your fist. Jughead mimicked your position, watching you warily.

“It’s okay,” you said. “After what you said to me earlier, um, I feel like it’s easier to talk about. Still hard, yeah. But it’s easier,” you said.

Jughead nodded.

“Her name is Lily,” you said. “Her father… he used to get me flowers. Almost everyday. He’d go outside and pick a whole bunch of them for me. They were lilies. He, um, passed away before Lily was born and I guess I just wanted to find a way to connect her name to him. Even if she would never know who he was. Or who I am for that matter.”

Jughead’s eyes widened.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t know he died.”

You smiled softly at him.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “It’s… been a while. The ache never really goes away but I’m making my way. One day at a time.”

Jughead nodded again.

“Do your brothers—”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “They don’t know about Lily. Castiel, you know, the one always wearing that trench coat; he knows. He helped me run away and kept me hidden unless Lily was born.”

Jughead’s eyes widened.

““Hidden?”” he repeated. “From what?”

You sighed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, Y/N, it does,” Jughead said. “Are you in danger?”

You sighed, tried to figuring out a way to phrase your job.

Hey, Jughead, I kinda sorta kill monsters for a living, and I’ve occasionally fought the Devil himself. No big deal. Oh, and my dead boyfriend was killed by a rogue angel using my brother’s body as a vessel.

You shook your head again.

“No,” you said.

Not immediate danger.

“I told you how I had kind of a weird job, right?”

Jughead nodded.

“Well… sometimes that job’s dangerous,”

Sometimes? Try all the time.

“There are thi— people out there who want to hurt me,” you corrected yourself. “But it’s okay. It’s part of the job. Besides, my brothers have my back. So does Castiel.”

“Y/N—”

“Jughead, please don’t worry,” you nearly begged. “I’m okay, alright?”

Jughead looked like he wanted to say more. And he did. He wanted to beg you to tell him everything. To stay with him and Archie so they could protect you from whatever wanted to hurt you. But as he looked into your pleading eyes, he melted and couldn’t say anything else.

“Okay.” he said hoarsely.

You let out a sigh of relief once you realized Jughead wasn’t going to press you further. The two of you lied back down and you snuggled back into Jughead’s chest, closing your eyes. The silence returned but Jughead felt tense under you. Like he wanted to say something else.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he suddenly asked softly.

You froze in his arms, eyes opening as you looked at his sad expression.

“I, uh, saw your brothers in Pop’s the other day. I, um, decided to eavesdrop a little bit. Thought I could maybe find out how you were doing. Instead I heard them talking about going home or something.” he said.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “We leave tomorrow.”

You heard Jughead give a defeated exhale.

“W-Will I ever see you again? I can still text you, right?” he asked weakly.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you slowly shook your head.

“I—Jughead, I wish. It won’t—It can’t—” you stopped before you began to cry.

You would never see Jughead again. He wouldn’t be able to contact you. Texting someone from a different universe? It was impossible.

“If you don’t want to see me—”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Jughead, I…”

You felt tears rolling down your face.

“I-I love you,” you said.

Jughead’s eyes widened at your confession.

“I love you,” you said again. “I never thought I could love someone the way I love you again. I don’t want to leave. But it’s my home. Everything I know is there. Family, friends, my life. And I can’t just leave it. I-I need you to understand that.”

Jughead was silent as he contemplated your words. and you got more and more nervous as the silence stretched on and on.

What if this was it? What if he just got up and left? What if he didn’t understand? What if he decided—

Jughead’s lips crashing against yours snapped you out of your thoughts. The freshly fallen tears on his cheeks mixed with yours and you could taste salt. You immediately kissed him back roughly, your teeth clacking together. But neither of you cared. When you pulled away for air, you were filled with relief when you saw Jughead smiling softly at you despite the tears in his eyes.

“I love you, too.” he said.

There were no more words to be spoken. He understood.

“Just… do me a favor, okay?” Jughead asked.

You nodded as you turned around to face the teen.

Jughead had walked you all the way back to the motel. He offered to get the car and drive you home but you declined. The more time you could spend with Jughead the better. You had walked hand in hand the entire way back. You talked about your favorite moments together, teasing each other with your little inside jokes, and had even stopped for a quick milkshake at Pop’s. One last time.

“Of course.”

Jughead sighed.

“Tell your brothers. About Lily,”

Your opened your mouth to protest but you were cut off by Jughead again.

“Please,” he said. “You’ll feel a lot better. And I know they’ll listen to you and help you out. I’ve seen the way they look at you. They look terrified. Like they think you’re gonna leave again without any warning. Y/N, I don’t think they’ll be able to handle that again.”

You let out a shaky sigh.

“Jughead…”

“Just talk to them. Please?” Jughead asked.

You nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “When we get home, I’ll talk to them.”

Jughead let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

You gave a small smile to the teen.

“I, um,” you began, unsure of what to say. “I guess I’ll see you around, Mr. Jones.”

Jughead smirked as he took a step closer to you.

“I’ll see you around, Ms. Winchester.” he said softly.

He dipped down, capturing your lips in one last passionate kiss. You kissed back with just as much fervor, neither of you wanting this moment to end. When you finally pulled away, the two of you looked at each other sadly. Jughead began to back away, eyes never leaving yours.

“Goodbye.” he said softly.

Tears welled in your eyes again.

“Bye.” you said back, watching him as he turned around, beginning the walk back to the school.

You closed the door, back sliding down on it. You dropped your shoes next to you and looked at the clock.

2:24

You needed to get to bed. You had to be up bright and early tomorrow. Willing yourself not to cry again, you took a deep breath again and got under your covers, not caring you were still wearing your dress or makeup.

The next day. 12 pm.

Jughead Jones sat at his usual booth at Pop’s, staring at his computer. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he could seem to get any words out. He looked down at his phone, debating about what he should do. You were gone. He had tried to visit your motel room around noon only to find everything gone. There was no trace of you or the others. You had just… disappeared. It was like you were never there.

Eventually deciding he had nothing to lose, he typed a quick message to you before sending it out, taking a deep breath. 

A guy could try, right?

Across a million billion trillion universes, you settled into one of the chairs in the Bunker, smirking at Dean as he strutted around the main area.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Dean exclaimed as he took a swig of beer.

Sam chuckled while Castiel just looked at the eldest Winchester blankly.

After transporting back to your universe, the four of you were now back home after you finally killed the witch who transported you there. You wished that your brothers wouldn’t have to kill her but once you found out she was terrorizing the rest of the town and killing more and more people, you had to put a stop to it.

Your phone’s screen lighting up made you look down at it.

(1) New message from Mr. Jones

Your heartbeat quickened.

Could it be?

You reached for the phone before you stopped yourself. Despite the fact that you were dying to, you didn’t dare open the message. Not yet. Jughead’s words from the night before resonated in your head and you took a deep breath. You had something to do first.

“Hey, guys?” you asked.

The three men turned to you.

“I, um, I have something to tell you.”

Chuck smiled as he watched you and Jughead each in your respective universes.

“Father…” an angel beside him began. “Pardon me for questioning you, but why have you allowed contact via technology between the Winchester girl and Jones boy? They live in different universes. How will they ever see each other again?”

Chuck’s smile didn’t falter.

“They’ll find a way. It’s what Winchesters and Joneses do.”

—————

A/N: That’s it! I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I originally was going to have a much more angsty ending, but I just couldn’t do it (and I love writing angst!)

Taglist

@lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @babearchie @theselfishllama @katshrev @juggiesjuliet @betty-coopers-number-one-stan @imperfectanatomy @casismyguardianangel @irrajj @fangites @apocalypticangell @sparklingriverdale @jvghead-jones-iii @onceuponagladerhead @isabellaskyliner @vodkaluh @tegan-eva @murderyoursoul @regenpony @xbobaaa @farmfreshcoldsprouts @hellolittlebigstudent @audreyxhorne @faithmichaluk @thebloodyshuckface @castawayalicia @lost-in-wonderland-x @holoqraphik @nadya0128 @soulception @jughead-archie-imagines @juggys-betty @twizzlersnizzler @riverdale–trash @barbarachern @likesiriusly @thatsavagehufflepuff @multi-madison @mrs-fangirl @thatcraxygirl15 @frobert20 @miss-mia-rae @buckyplease @myblackwings5 @thecrossroad-demon @writing-in-riverdale @jghdjns-iii @johnmurphys-sass @killjoyloki @the-local-dreamer-star @stephyra17 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @genderabused @wetsknn

Winchesters in Riverdale Taglist

@famchester @prettylies-uglyface @mummastace @lightwoods-arrows @miraculousrain @emmalynnhockey @thoughtfulfandomtrash @nan-the-lemon @diyoceanbeachup22 @gingerfangirlthefeels @yasminepc @thatcrazyfangirlmaze @acambridge @baasooreexiiaa @disappointeddinosaur @lena-lightwood @pathetic-pisces @s-kellington @seninjakitey @cloudy-1-nights @badwolfgirlatbakerst @lcil123 @seiteixnalaicos @enthusiasmisdepressing @music-hoeee @alice-schlipalius @im-a-hufflepuff-what-can-i-say @b0byyy @therealwatermelon @princess-sweatpants @suitelifeofjughead @lxrrystylinsonfucking69 @milkshakejones @daehguj @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @strxngerluna @belbow @writers-coffee @wayward-mutant @sastielstan @unicornqueen05 @nessy-bearxb @annoyingsibling @team-jessdeservesbetter @forsythependletonjonestheiii @buckyplease @limabeansdunbar @emotionallyenterprised @nobodylastname @jealousbitxh @ohblue @fandomsrlove @jesxthetrashcan @weeping-chickens @enthusiasmisdepressing @amber-styles @annveal-parmesan @idk-what-happened-tbh @king-ivar @kayla-dix0n @weirdunicorn548-blog @juggernaut-jones @devilsbestfriend @iamlilypotter @80sbrokenscene @triscuitcracker @daniellebenamu @kennedyraye @myrabbitholetoneverland @bubblegumcat229 @captainboomerangsunicorn @qxeen-of-hearts @baz-catalano @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @fanstoria @ahsokaslament @catwoman2502 @jughat-jones @cloudyaries @alira100 @miraisnotavailable @hair-dresses @natalieroseg @theeighthwonderofcanada @shadowycomputerrecluse @sittingwithlucifer @rabid-creatures @bitch-ivyxx @carolinebe22 @impracticalfandom @nerdstuff1994 @adammaybeonfire @barbygrozna @passiononfire @ashevery92 @kouhai-leaflet @soupunatural @wordshowers @tragic-lights @smolshadowhunterlee @idkmilla @adammaybeonfire @kitty31177 @phoenixiax @oceanshockey @blackheartedhideout @aestheticolours @fangirlingfanatic2442
@myteenwolf-world @j-rose-r @crowleysfavoritehuman @theriverdaledaleash @aconfusedidentity

Too Late (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

Originally posted by mcfucking-lafayette

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Choreographer!Reader

Requested?: ‘hiii! I have a request for a linxreader: Could the reader be the choreographer for Hamilton? So she comes in later in the game when everything has pretty much been written. Lin and she have a connection and get along very well during the staging process. Then on opening night at the Public, the reader brings her boyfriend and Lin acts v weird (cause he’s in love with her). You could decide where to go from there. love your writing! thanks!!!’

Prompt: ^^^^

Words: 2700+

Warnings: Jealous Lin, Sad Lin, angst, :(

~~~

Lin didn’t want to admit it. He was in denial and didn’t want to confess it. Nothing would make him talk. Nothing would break him. Nothing would-

“I’ll buy you dinner if you do it.” You state as an ultimatum as you twirled the gel pen between your fingers.

Lin’s determination and shell of resistance cracked and shattered the moment you finished speaking the ultimatum. Lin mumbled a profanity before standing up from the couch. He took a deep breath before doing a cartwheel, or what he believed was a cartwheel. You couldn’t stop laughing at him. How anyone could keep a straight face as they watched a grown man in his thirties attempt a cartwheel and watching him land it by crashing into the couch is beyond you. You felt your stomach hurt and your eyes grow watery. Lin stood and glared weakly at you, mumbling for you to shut up.

“Don’t be like that, Linny.” You said, nudging Lin in the chest as you zipped up your hoodie and retrieved your wallet from the coffee table. “At least you earned yourself some free dinner.” 

Lin rolled his eyes as he stood and grabbed his car keys and wallet. You both walked out of the apartment complex and into the garage. You both entered Lin’s car and pulled out, driving from the building and down the street. The destination was an old stomping ground of yours and Lin’s. A moderately sized family diner only a few blocks away from Lin’s apartment. This was where you and Lin would brainstorm and work on ideas for Hamilton together. A good amount of your friendship was spent at this restaurant. You would work on homework and last minute projects here, take part of Friday night karaoke and work for tips when you were short on funds. This place was, in fact, ran by your family. Mainly your parents, seven other siblings, and six of your cousins. The food served were all (L/N) family recipes and the decor were all hand-me-downs, giving the diner a homey atmosphere.

You and Lin pulled into the parking lot and entered the diner, inhaling the warm scent of country fried steaks and apple pies. Your sister Beth was working the podium so once she saw you and Lin she grinned and immediately grabbed menus and lead you to your favorite spot; a booth directly diagonal from the kitchen door so you could have a clear view of who and what was coming out of the kitchen. Since you were the chosen heiress of the diner, you tried to visit it was as often as your schedule would allow you to. This means a lot of late night dinner with Lin and falling asleep with a cold cup of coffee and being woken up when your parents went home (the diner runs 24 hours). Although your name was soon to be on that deed, you were discussing with your father about how the heir should be some who worked and wanted the restaurant. But, that’s a story for another time.

Your mother walked out of the kitchen and she noticed you and Lin, smiling although she was tired. “(Y/N)! Lin!” She strolled over to you two and gave you side-hugs. “It’s good to see you two! What can I get you?”

You and Lin scanned through the menu you both know by heart. Before Lin could speak you placed your menu down on the table and looked up to your mom. “We’ll have our usuals and two coffees.” 

Your mom scribbled down your order on her pad of paper and winked at you. “I’ll bring out sugar and cream for you, hun.” And with that, she walked back into the kitchen. You took this time to look around the restaurant and noticed how empty it is. You and Lin were the only ones eating, besides a couple of hungover and stoned teenagers sitting at the bar. Normal Saturday night for the (L/N) Family Diner.

Besides having a favorite diner that worked at a meeting place for meals and study dates, you and Lin go way back. You two graduated from the same high school, you graduating two years after Lin, and you guys stopped talking until four years ago after you graduated college. You came across Lin while touring Aaron Burr’s house and you two picked up your friendship where they left off. He told you about this project he was doing called the Hamilton Mixtape. You were a huge American History nerd so you were excited to hear about it. Some time later, Lin started working on a hip-hop musical about the life of Alexander Hamilton, who happened to be your favorite founding father. You had a Bachelor’s degree in Dance so when you heard ‘musical’ you thought of the dancing and ensemble members of Broadway. When Lin decided to make you the Choreographer for Hamilton, you saw stars. You were positive that Hamilton was going to be a Broadway hit so you immediately accepted his offer. So, for a course of the next few years, Lin would run you through the songs he wrote while you demonstrated the dances you put together for each song. You also helped Lin pick out actors and actresses for the cast and you took it upon yourself to choose the ensemble members. It might have been Lin’s musical but he always said it was a team effort.

You and Lin proceeded to talk about ideas and new changes for Hamilton songs and dance numbers. Your food and coffee were served some time later and the conversations did not cease. After the food was eaten, coffee was drunk, and the conversation lasted for about two hours, the bill found itself onto your table and you paid for it, leaving a good tip for your mom before you and Lin got up to leave, hugging your mom and your sister before leaving the restaurant. You and Lin went back to his apartment and you two ended up having a deep one-in-the-morning conversation about life since that’s how your brain functioned when you were an insomniac and still running on those few cups of coffee. At about three am, you decided to leave since the next day was the premiere of Hamilton. You hugged Lin and wished him a good night before leaving. You lived in the same building, but your apartment was three floors above Lin’s.

~~~

Night of the Premiere ~

The theater was packed. The show sold out not that long ago and it was heart-racingly exciting to see all these people and Broadway veterans filling the Richard Rogers Theater. Thank god you weren’t in the main cast or else you’d be having a panic attack and insist on leaving. You were not just the Choreographer but you also was an ensemble member that performed in both acts and even had a singing part in The Election of 1800. You also lend a hand in helping cast and ensemble members get in costume and makeup since you took a class for theatrical costume and makeup in college. When you weren’t helping or going over last minute practice with the ensemble, you were loitering in Lin’s dressing room, helping him calm his nerves.

“What if I miss my cues?” Lin asked, mainly to himself as he fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt. “What if I make a complete fool of myself?”

“Lin, calm down,” You said for the hundredth time that night. “You’ll be fine.”

“But what if the spotlights go out?” Lin continued to be nervous. “What if everybody doesn’t like the show? What if-”

“Lin, oh my god, calm down!” 

Lin looked at you with wide eyes. You stood up from the couch and was grasping Lin’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye. “You, Lin-Manuel Miranda, are a brilliant man. You wrote this musical in seven years and you had to deal with me forcing you to practice dancing during those seven years. You mastered the dances, you’ve mastered the songs, and you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts, Lin! Now you go out there and do your best! If you get nervous or anxious, look for me. If I’m not on stage, I’ll be in the wings.”

Lin smiled and hugged you. “Thank you, (Y/N).” He said, kissing you on the cheek, making you blush. “I’m not wasting my shot!” 

You laughed as he finished his hair and finished getting ready. You mess with your hair before the five-minute warning comes over the P.A system. You and Lin hug again and you go your separate ways and take positions in the opening song. 

The musical goes on without any problems. When you weren’t performing on stage, you were watching from the wings. Lin would glance at you ever so often but you’d flash him a smile and a thumbs up. During the intermission, you snuck off and Lin didn’t see you until the first song of Act Two. Act Two brought you to tears and you were silently crying when Alexander died. The audience were brought to tears and enjoyed the show very well, calling for an encore during the curtain call. You disappeared from the stage and Lin went searching for you. He had something very important to tell you.

Four months ago, Lin came to the realization that he loved you. It was at a rocky point of his life when he realized this. He had just finalized his divorce with Vanessa after four years of marriage and they decided to share custody of their baby son, Sebastian. Besides working on Hamilton, Lin was a mess and wasn’t getting enough sleep. You’d force him to sleep and make sure he’d eat. You cared so much about him, just like you did in high school. You were loving, witty, funny, beautiful, and very talented and smart. Lin couldn’t help but fall in love. He didn’t think he could after his divorce but he did.

Lin scanned through the group of actors and ensemble members for you but to no avail, you weren’t found. Lin asked all the actors he saw and they all turned up with nothing. Then, Phillipa said she saw you in the lobby. Lin thanked her before racing to the lobby, still in costume. As he made his way to the lobby, he went over what he was going to say to you. He mentally cursed and finally made it to his destination. Lin scanned the crowd and saw you but his heart stopped once he saw him.

You were standing up against an empty part of the lobby wall. You were still in your ensemble costume and the blue and red coat you wore during Yorktown. Your hair was still in its braided updo and your makeup looked to be touched up recently. Your arms were crossed against your chest and your head was tilted every so slightly to the side. The guy you were talking to was about Daveed’s height, with curly blonde hair and he was dressed in a white dress shirt, a navy blue blazer, black slacks, and brown loafers. His neck and cheeks were covered in freckle patches. His hands were making motions as he spoke, making you laugh once and a while. 

You see Lin in the corner of your eye and you smile. “Lin!” You called him over, motioning with your hand. Your ‘friend’ turned around and he had an anxious smile on his face. Lin felt a pit form in his stomach as he walked over to you. His hands became clammy and he expected the worst from this guy he never saw before being all friendly with you.

“There you are, (Y/N),” Lin said, forcing a fake smile on his face. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of your neck. “Sorry.” You nudged the blonde guy in his side as you stood up straight. “This cutie has been distracting me.” The blonde guy blushed and stepped closer to your side, placing a hand on your hip and you leaning into his touch, leaning your head on his shoulder. Lin’s speculations were confirmed. And it broke his heart.

You had a boyfriend.

Lin tried his best not to look hurt and heartbroken. He wanted to look oblivious and happy. His forced smile looked convincing but he was breaking on the inside. When did you start dating this guy? Why didn’t you tell Lin about him? Does Lin know this guy? He did look kinda familiar. Maybe a guy from your high school? Lin didn’t care. He instantly hated this guy. This guy took you away from him. Lin could make you happy. He could satisfy you. If he was able to, he’d make you a happy person.

“(Y/N), who’s your friend?” Lin asked as he balled his hands into fists. 

You smiled and blushed. “This is Grayson Peters.” You explained, Grayson extending his hand for Lin to shake. “We went to high school with him. He was in the marching band with me.”

Lin firmly gripped Grayson’s hand and shook it briefly before letting go. Grayson’s hand was clammy and cold and Lin wiped his hand on his pants before stuffing it in his pocket. Grayson looked like one of those guys you’d see on Glee or The Office but also has that anxious glee like one of Lin’s fangirls. His eyes were brown like Lin’s and his face is clean, no shadow of facial hair. Maybe you liked men with brown eyes? Clean shaven guys? Musical guys? Lin fit two of those three traits so he had a good chance with you. Besides, Lin knows you better. He could make you so happy.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” Lin asked, a lump in his throat forming.

“Four months.” You explain. “We’ve been seeing each other online since he worked overseas. But now he’s living in the city!” Grayson planted a kiss on your head and you blushed, making Lin’s heart break even more.

‘So that’s why she’s been online so often.’ Lin thought as he felt his eyes water and the lump in his throat growing. He wanted to pull you away from Grayson and tell him to get lost. He wanted to kiss you and hold you and make you feel special. It took him four months for him to realize how much he needs you and you went off and got yourself a boyfriend. Lin was so disappointed with himself that he took so long. He loves you. He wants you. He needs you. But he was too late.

Lin turned around and walked away, not being stopped or noticed by you or Grayson. He walked all the way to his dressing room, ignoring everyone who tried to talk to him. He locked the door behind him and took a seat in front of the mirror. He stared at his reflection and then looked at the picture he taped to the corner. It was a selfie polaroid you took of you and Lin on your thirty-third birthday, which was six months ago. You both had on those stupid plastic birthday hats and you both held full wine glasses as you toasted to ‘one more year closer to death’, as you put it. You both were smiling, which what made Lin’s heart ache more. He wanted that smile. He needed that smile. But it now belonged to someone else.

And he cried.

Tags!!: @imagineham @dear-alexander @notthrowingawaymyfood @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @listenlyss @casual-hamiltrash

Late night adventures

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff

Recommended song: “American Money” by  BØRNS

Your name: submit What is this?

“Y/N. Y/N, wake up.” You heard your name being called as you were gently shaken. Opening your bleary eyes, your peered around you into the darkness. From the corner of your eye, you saw a hand retracting from your shoulder. Turning your head, you saw Jungkook with his eyes sparkling in the darkness. “We’re here.”

You were instantly wide awake, sitting up and stretching out your arms. “How long did I sleep?” you groaned. He chuckled. “You tell me; you passed out as soon as we hit the highway.” You whacked him lightly on the arm; he simply ruffled your hair and said, “Come on. Let’s get out.” He opened his door, letting in a cold blast of night air. You shivered and drew your jacket closer around you, doing the same.

As soon as you got out, your breath caught in your throat when you looked up. Thousands upon thousands of stars were scattered across the sky, twinkling gently in the sky. “My god… Jungkook, this is beautiful!” You turned to him, only to find him staring at you with a smile on his face. “That’s why I brought you, silly.” You flushed.

You walked around the back of the truck and sat on the edge of the flatbed, swinging your legs. Jungkook joined you, leaning back until he was lying down in the flatbed. You fell back, landing on his arm with a dull thud. “Ow! Y/N, that’s my arm, not your pillow!” You shushed him, curling up into his warmth.

Jungkook shifted around, looking for his phone in his pocket. Pulling it out, he quickly searched up a song and played it, setting the phone right above his head. You picked out all the different constellations in the sky until a streak of light quickly crossed it. “Meteor!” you sat up.

“I know. There’s a meteor shower scheduled for tonight. I thought you might want to see it.” Jungkook said from beside you. You tackled him, laughing. “You’re the best!” he tickled your sides, making you fall off of him. “You wanna watch it or not?” You leaned back once more on his arm. Complacently, you watched the meteors falling across the sky, counting each one.

“It’s so pretty…I can’t believe that the others didn’t want to come to see this.” yo spoke. Jungkook shifted nervously. “Actually…I didn’t tell them about this.” you raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What happened to the sweet, innocent Jungkook that i knew in school?” you teased.

“I only wanted you to be with me.” His blunt answer stopped you. You were suddenly grateful for the darkness and sat up, turning your face away. Jungkook followed suit, whispering, “Y/N…. look at me.” his fingers reached out and turned your face towards him. Your lashes fluttered as you looked anywhere but at him. He leaned closer until his face was inches from yours.

Slowly, hesitantly, Jungkook pressed his lips to yours. Your body tensed,  and you melted into the kiss, reaching up to grab the collar of his jacket. He pulled away and muttered “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so-” you cut him off by pulling him into another kiss.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.” you whispered into the kiss. It was his turn to tease you. “Oh?” he smirked. You shoved him away, folding your arms and huffing. He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. “I like you.”

“I like you, too. I just… I didn’t think that you’d feel the same way.” his arms wrapped tighter around you. “Y/N, you’re smart, funny, and you’re good at so many things. If anyone should be worried about rejection, it’s me.” you laughed and turned around, cuddling with him. Jungkook stroked your hair. “Thanks for taking me here, Jungkook. And next time, let’s not bring the others.”

The Road to Heaven is in the Arms of a Winchester

Characters: Reader Insert, Sam, Dean, Castiel

Wordcount: 1500

Warnings: Death, angst

Summary: The reader gets hurt on a hunt. Will she get help in time?

A/N: @trexrambling  requested, “Option A: He knew she was safe, and that was the only thing that mattered. OR Option B: All the words had been said, and now there was only a deep, aching silence.” I hope this does the trick :)

Originally posted by princesscas

The hunt was never supposed to end this way.

The world around you felt muted—you were barely aware of the light, warm trickle from your nostril, the cold wind coming in from the broken window, your various bruises and lacerations from the fight, or the splintered wood floor upon which you’d fallen to your knees.

You always got back up from being thrown, even when you hit your head so hard you saw stars in your eyes, or momentarily lost the ability to hear. No matter what, you always stood back up and didn’t fall back down.

Not this time.

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Paper Hearts (Jumin x MC)

Throughout Jumin’s life, he’s always had half of a paper heart that only his soulmate can complete.

Word Count: 1058

This was inspired by the song Paper Hearts and I really wanted to do something with it and after awhile of thinking of something I finally came up with an idea. I hope you enjoy! Thank you and have a wonderful day! ❀(*´◡`*)❀

————————————————————————————————————–

For as long as Jumin could remember, a small paper half of a heart always seemed to linger around him, as though waiting for him to do something. 

He hadn’t understood when he was younger, yet soon came to find that everyone happened to have it.

And similar to a puzzle, the halves were meant to connect with another. 

He had seen his father attempt to find the other half of his mangled heart with many women, the misshapen cracks never quite clicking with the other.

“Why do you keep trying…?” Jumin had asked one day as a young child, examining the fragile thing as it lay upon his father’s sleeve. 

“Trying what?”

“To find someone,” Jumin replied, his wide eyes looking up. “Your heart only gets more broken each time.” 

“Well, similar to in your stories it’s like an adventure. And in the end, I just want a happy ending with someone to love.” 

“Mother didn’t do that.” 

His father shook his head, a sudden bit of age rushing to his expression as he lifted his son onto his knee. “No, she didn’t. But when you find someone, you’ll be willing to raise the very sun if that’s what it takes.”

“I have someone?”

“Of course, that’s where the other half is.” 

“Do you think they’re a good person?”

“I certainly hope so.” 

And so the years went.

 half became tired and worn, each day a new person entering is life with only the goal of fame and fortune. 

He was merely an obstacle to overcome.

An obstacle to tolerate. 

So the walls were built, towering to the very clouds and shrouding any part of him to those people. 

Even to anyone at all.

And his heart suffered.

It grew shriveled and wrinkled with each cold gaze and steely tone, unable to carry the cinderblocks that weighed him down day each day.

Until the most peculiar thing happened.

You entered his life. 

It was purely accidental when you had stumbled onto the RFA messenger, yet the moment he noticed you his heart sparked into life. 

And when you began to talk, his heart never seemed to stop bursting with care.

He found that he smiled more knowing you were in his life, every little thing you said causing a small, tender warmth to slip into his chest.

He found that laughter used to be unheard around him.

Now, he couldn’t help it.

Soft chuckles would escape him as you spoke of your tales, the ways you attempted to brighten his day, making them outshine the sun.

Simply everything about you astounded him.

And his once dying heart seemingly swelled with adoration for you.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Good evening, MC,” Jumin spoke to you over the phone, his lips tugging upwards as your voice arrived. 

“Hey! Hi, Jumin! How are you?”

“I’m doing fine, I’m just about to get out of work in an hour or so. You?”

“Pretty good! I haven’t really done much though honestly.”

“It’s good to give yourself a day off,” Jumin cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks. “But um…there was something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Something about you shifted, an odd anticipation bubbling in your tone. “What’s that?”

“Do you have half of a heart?”

“Oh uh…yeah…yeah I do.” 

Disappointment tinted your words.

Why?

“Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing’s wrong don’t worry. Is that all you wanted to ask?”

He furrowed his brow.

“No, it’s not.” He said, running his fingers through his hair. “I was wondering if you’d like to meet me at the C & R building. I’d like to take you out to dinner.” 

Your voice lightened instantly as if you had been wanting to hear to hear words your whole life. 

“Yes! Yes, I’d love that actually.” You attempted to come off as cool, laughing nervously. “I can’t wait.” 

His half of a heart nearly soared.

“Neither can I.” 

For a part of him knew what would happen when you met. 

It had to happen.

Didn’t it?

“I’ll be there in a bit!” 

“I’ll be counting the minutes.” He joked, delighted to hear laughter on your end.

“Oh! Jumin, one more thing?”

“Yes?”

“Is this a date?”

“Absoloutely.” 

“Great.” 

And so you hung up shortly after you said goodbye, the clock never turning slower than it did in that time. 

He swore he was faster than a bullet the moment the clock hit an hour passing.

Excitement burst within him, endless possibilities running through his head. 

Yet the very best of them was simply the idea of being beside you.

And he was met with that quicker than he could blink.

He threw open the door, finding you waiting expectantly, a smile brighter than a star upon your expression.

He never knew how much a presence could affect him in such a positive way.

For when he saw you, he felt an indescribable joy.

And the hearts didn’t seem much different. 

They rushed forward, spiraling about the other excitedly, waiting for the two of you to do something almost. 

“MC…” 

“Jumin!” You twisted towards him, lighting up like a firework. “It’s you!” 

“It is.” He snickered, sighing perhaps a bit embarrassedly. “Do you…do you mind if I hug you-”

Before he could even finish you rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around him as if you were a lifeline. 

He returned the embrace without a second thought, never quite wanting to let go.

Yet as you both stepped back, your hands enveloped within the other you were both met with a wonderful sight.

Your once two halves were now one whole.

And it formed a great, shining, and full heart.

A heart that overflowed with the love that you both felt for the other.

Paladin's Aesthetics
  • Lance: stargazing, the piter pater of rain hitting the window, overthinking, breathless laughter, wishing upon a shooting star, skipping class, waves crashing, dancing around in your room, lazily stretching out your body, bad puns, the feeling of insecurity, stardust, digging bare feet in the sand, late night heart to heart, racing to jump into the ocean first
  • Keith: sunsets, conspiracy theories, sitting on rooftops, anticipation, protecting loved ones, the glint in the eyes of the person you love when they smile, clenched fists, passionate anger, laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the crackling of fire, bed head, aliens, stubbornness, sweat dripping down neck, listening to music late at night while staring at the ceiling
  • Hunk: the calm before a storm, hugs so tight they hurt, humming while working, yawning in the morning, emotional rant, the smell of your favorite meals, sunrise, playing with your pet, defending friends and family, sarcasm, the glare of the sun peeking in through the window, licking cake batter off a wooden spoon, quietly stubborn, the joy of making someone laugh
  • Pidge: constellations, finishing a long book series, the sound of a keyboard tapping, cluttered bedrooms, staying up late, witty jokes, pillow forts, looking up conspiracy theories, muttering comments under your breath, scribbling in notebooks, tangled headphones, holding a picture of loved ones close to your heart
  • Shiro: security, astronomy, staying calm in anger, road trips, hair ruffling, a warm shower to relax after a long day, the feeling of finally coming home, enjoying the scenery, overthinking past actions, a reassuring shoulder, talking some sense into bullies, a clear blue sky, black coffee, the thrill of adventure, calloused but warm hands, water dripping off skin, motivation, making sacrifices
saying your names
richard siken
saying your names

Saying Your Names

Chemical names, bird names, names of fire
and flight and snow, baby names, paint names,
delicate names like bones in the body,
Rumplestiltskin names that are always changing,
names that no one’s ever able to figure out.
Names of spells and names of hexes, names
cursed quietly under the breath, or called out
loudly to fill the yard, calling you inside again,
calling you home. Nicknames and pet names
and baroque French monikers, written in
shorthand, written in longhand, scrawled
illegibly in brown ink on the backs of yellowing
photographs, or embossed on envelopes lined
with gold. Names called out across the water,
names I called you behind your back,
sour and delicious, secret and unrepeatable,
the names of flowers that open only once,
shouted from balconies, shouted from rooftops,
or muffled by pillows, or whispered in sleep,
or caught in the throat like a lump of meat.
I try, I do. I try and try. A happy ending?
Sure enough — Hello darling, welcome home.
I’ll call you darling, hold you tight. We are
not traitors but the lights go out. It’s dark.
Sweetheart, is that you? There are no tears,
no pictures of him squarely. A seaside framed
in glass, and boats, those little boats with
sails aflutter, shining lights upon the water,
lights that splinter when they hit the pier.
His voice on tape, his name on the envelope,
the soft sound of a body falling off a bridge
behind you, the body hardly even makes
a sound. The waters of the dead, a clear road,
every lover in the form of stars, the road
blocked. All night I stretched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.
Makes a cathedral, him pressing against
me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe
his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me
like stars. Names of heat and names of light,
names of collision in the dark, on the side of the
bus, in the bark of the tree, in ballpoint pen
on jeans and hands and the backs of matchbooks
that then get lost. Names like pain cries, names
like tombstones, names forgotten and reinvented,
names forbidden or overused. Your name like
a song I sing to myself, your name like a box
where I keep my love, your name like a nest
in the tree of love, your name like a boat in the
sea of love — O now we’re in the sea of love!
Your name like detergent in the washing machine.
Your name like two X’s like punched-in eyes,
like a drunk cartoon passed out in the gutter,
your name with two X’s to mark the spots,
to hold the place, to keep the treasure from
becoming ever lost. I’m saying your name
in the grocery store, I’m saying your name on
the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal
covered with frost, your name like a music that’s
been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud,
a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails
in wind and the slap of waves on the hull
of a boat that’s sinking to the sound of mermaids
singing songs of love, and the tug of a simple
profound sadness when it sounds so far away.
Here is a map with a your name fora capital,
here is an arrow to prove a point: we laugh
and it pits the world against us, we laugh,
and we’ve got nothing left to lose, and our hearts
turn red, and the river rises like a barn on fire.
I came to tell you, we’ll swim in the water, we’ll
swim like something sparkling underneath
the waves. Our bodies shivering, and the sound
of our breathing, and the shore so far away.
I’ll use my body like a ladder, climbing
to the thing behind it, saying farewell to flesh,
farewell to everything caught underfoot
and flattened. Names of poisons, names of
handguns, names of places we’ve been
together, names of people we’d be together,
Names of endurance, names of devotion,
street names and place names and all the names
of our dark heaven crackling in their pan.
It’s a bed of straw, darling. It sure as shit is.
If there was one thing I could save from the fire,
he said, the broken arms of the sycamore,
the eucalyptus still trying to climb out of the yard —
your breath on my neck like a music that holds
my hands down, kisses as they burn their way
along my spine — or rain, our bodies wet,
clothes clinging arm to elbow, clothes clinging
nipple to groin — I’ll be right here. I’m waiting.

Say hallelujah, say goodnight, say it over
the canned music and your feet won’t stumble,
his face getting larger, the rest blurring
on every side. And angels, about twelve angels,
angels knocking on your head right now, hello
hello, a flash in the sky, would you like to
meet him there, in Heaven? Imagine a room,
a sudden glow. Here is my hand, my heart,
my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated
cities at the center of me, and here is the center
of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we
can drink from, but I can’t go through with it.
I just don’t want to die anymore.

Soul Mate 30


“The voice you hear your thoughts in is your soulmate’s but you don’t know who they are until you hear them speak for the first time." 

A/N: This is it, this is the end. UNBELIEVABLE! Wow, thanks for this wonderful journey, my dudes! Thought I’d point out that I incorporated a few ideas from those of you who sent in some good ideas to add to this. In case it confuses you, Ben is called Ben when around family/friends, but Kylo when he’s amongst himself. Any who, under the star line is an alternate universe where it’s modernized (thank you to the anon for that idea!) BTW, can’t believe this fic hit over 100K words, over 1000+ notes, 400+ kudos on AO3, and endless love and feedback from you guys! I LOVE YOU ALL! [GIF NOT MINE]

Word Count: 6.6K+

Warning: You know what, you’re probably gonna cry.

SOUL MATE MASTERLIST

AO3


One whole day: twenty four hours, two minutes, seven seconds. Kylo pondered upon the ticking clock in his mind, the overwhelming reminder that you weren’t coming back. If he was so lucky enough–a man as troubled as himself–to have the stars bring him back to life…why couldn’t you have been lucky, too? The guilt fed on him, if he hadn’t saved you then, you wouldn’t be dead now. Or would you? That house fire was disastrous, but at the same time, if the First Order hadn’t infiltrated your home planet, you still would’ve been fine, living on your own without a single worry of death. Yet, Kylo stood there, blaming himself. He shouldn’t have left you all those years ago, he shouldn’t have allowed Snoke to deceive him. He was never meant for the Dark Side, yet, he wasn’t meant for the Light either. Kylo pained, he pained over his past, the life he had, and the two lives he lost–their blood in his own hands. Even if he hadn’t literally killed you, in his mind, he metaphorically had. But, Kylo took in a deep breath and appreciated the little he now had, although he had lost you and his father and possibly himself…he still had his mother, and his mother was good enough. Because in the end, he never felt the slightest of hate for Leia.

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morganeliise  asked:

I NEED SOME LIAM FLUFF 💕

Shut up and kiss me

Liam and Y/N had met over summer before freshman year. Liam and his parents had come out to the lake for the summer and Y/N’s family did too. The two had instantly hit it off. Hanging out since the first day off summer. They woke up early and had breakfast by the lake together and went to bed late to watch the stars together. They had quickly formed a bond but there was always a lingering feeling between the two. One day Liam had decided to act upon it.

They were talking by the lake when Liam pushed her in. She screeched as he laughed and jumped in after her. 

“I HATE YOU!” She screamed.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do dunbar.” she sassed.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her close to him then cupped her face. After a few moments of starring into each others eyes questioningly, he made his move. He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss was slow and sweet. When he pulled away she smiled up at him and he smiled back. She leaned up and pulled him down to her and they had a long waited makeout session in the lake.

Since that day the two were completely inseparable. From eight in the morning to midnight the two were together. Their parents had also become friends and approved of the two’s relationship, though they feared for the end of summer. The two were always in their own little world, not worrying about anything but each other. They sat cuddling by the lake to watch the sunset, they made out whenever they could, they did cute coupley things together. It was obvious that over these three months the two had fallen hard for each other.

When the end of summer rolled around the two were not ready. They had woke up early so they could get some time together before they had to part. They had tried to think of possibilities where they could be together, but they knew none of them were realistic. They knew this was goodbye.

“Hey listen to me, I love you. Okay? I am so in love with you and I always will be. And I promise that one day we’ll find each other again.” Liam cooed.

“I love you too Liam.” she cried.

“Hey please stop crying. You’re going to make me cry.” His eyes watering. She nodded as he wiped her tears and kissed her forehead.

“Have a great school year baby.” he laughed and she giggled.

“You too.”

“Your parents are waiting hun.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Neither do I Y/N but we have to.”

“I love you Li.” her lip quivered. He pulled her into one last desperate kiss.

“I love you too. Now go.”

“But-”

“Y/N it’s time for you to go, you’re parents are going to hate me.” he chuckled.

“Goodbye Liam Dunbar.” she giggled.

“Goodbye Y/N Y/L/N.” he pulled her into a long hug and she got in the car and left.

It had been six months since summer and a lot of things had changed Liam had been bitten. That had changed his life. But it still didn’t change all the lonely nights he spent thinking about Y/N. He knew he’d never see her again and that hurt him more than anything.

Y/N and her family had moved half way across the country and today was her first day. She was dreading the day of course. She walked into the building full of faces she didn’t recognize. She got lost in the big school but finally found her way to her first period. When she walked in she noticed a certain brown haired boy not facing her.

“Liam?” she whispered so faintly no one heard her, besides Liam and his wolf hearing. Immediately recognizing her voice his head flipped around. He thought his eyes were playing a trick on him until he saw that smile. The smile he had fallen in love with. He jumped out of his seat and ran to her. Pulling her into his arms and into a kiss. He had missed this. When he pulled back he realized they were in front of a whole class so he grabbed her hand and pulled her into an empty classroom.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with his hands on her hips.

“My dad’s job moved us here.”

“There are so many things I want to say.”

“Then don’t say anything.” she pulled him down and kissed him which turned into a heat makeout session, to make up for lost time.

“I really missed you.”

“I really missed you too Li, I’m just glad you remembered me.”

“Of course I remembered you, I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too.” she smiled.

“I told you we would find each other.”

“Shut up and kiss me you dork.” 

The Circle Of Stupidity

Pairings: Nozoeli, Nicomaki, Kotoumi

Summary: What’s the appropriate reaction to being ignored by your crush? Getting drunk with your friends and ending up in bed with them of course.

Words: yeah

Tags: #Crack  #What_Else_Did_You_Expect_From_The_Title

Note: It’s not what you think it is but at the same time it’s exactly what you think it will be

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The Beatles photographed by Fiona Adams on 18 April 1963. This image was subsequently used for the cover of the Twist and Shout EP.

Photo © Fiona Adams

“How did [George Harrison] feel today, putting the success story into perspective?

‘I dunno. I don’t feel any difference now from when it all started,’ came the genuine reply. 'See - although success is good and I enjoy everything it means, I feel exactly the same about the group, the music and the audiences - in fact, life, generally - as I did when we were sweating away in Hamburg.

'Apart from the obvious differences, of course - like money. But let’s face it: physically I’m the same bloke! I feel odd when people look up and point at me onstage, like they do with all of us now. It seems odd to think we are at the centre of attraction because - you know, we’ve gone through so much to get where we are. None of us look upon ourselves as stars. It’s the other people who say we’re the stars. We don’t.

'All we wanted when we started was to have hits and top bills and go on TV and make money. I never thought this sort of situation would ever develop - like everybody knows who we are and all that. It all happened so quickly, though, that I didn’t get any chance to turn back - none of us did. It’s a good job we all had the right sort of mentality to hold ourselves from going mad, with everything going on round us like it did. But it’s been great - what else can you say about this sort of thing when it happens to you? It’s like winning the pools!’” - Melody Maker, 7 November 1964 [x]

The Call to the Hall

Every player that steps onto A baseball field dreams of that moment.

They put in years of effort in the hope that they one day will be considered great. That they can take their place in baseball’s most prestigious hall. That their name and cap can sit among the best of all-time.

For Michael Joseph Piazza, that dream is now a reality.

The wait was long. Four years of missed chances, ballots casted and counted, to no avail. But in early January, with 83 percent of the vote, the wait was over. And on July 24, he was cemented as one of baseball’s best when he was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

His plaque will now be viewed by every baseball devotee that makes their way to Cooperstown and his legacy has been secured. A legacy that will not only mark him as one of the best offensive catchers to play the game, but also as one of the greatest Mets in franchise history, as he becomes only the second player to enter the Hall of Fame as a Met.

“What an amazing life that I’ve had in baseball,” Piazza said. “The memories, to me, I almost can’t capture. It’s truly a blessing and I’m very, very grateful.”

For Piazza it is the culmination of a career that began when he was drafted by the Los Angeles Dodgers in the 62nd round (1,390th pick) of the 1988 amateur draft. With his enshrinement into Cooperstown, Piazza is the lowest draft pick to ever reach enshrinement.

“That’s what’s wonderful about baseball,” Piazza said. “You just need a chance. I was able to sneak into this game, kind of limp in, if you will. Through a lot of hard work, some luck and some determination, I was able to build a pretty good career.”

He spent four full years in the minor leagues before getting his first big league call-up in 1992 with the Dodgers.

In 1993, Piazza’s first full season in the big leagues, he batted .318 (174-547) with 24 doubles, 35 home runs and 112 RBI en route to being named the National League Rookie of the Year, an All-Star and a Silver Slugger. He even finished ninth in the MVP voting that season.

It was the first of 12 All-Star Games for Piazza (he’d make seven of those 12 as a Met) and the first of 10 Silver Slugger awards, which is the most by a catcher. His consecutive run of Silver Sluggers from 1993-2002 are the most consecutive wins of any player at any position in major league history.

While he played his first seven seasons with the Dodgers, he really found a home when he became a Met after a trade with the Florida Marlins on May 22, 1998.

“I enjoyed coming up with the Dodgers and had an amazing career there as far as getting to know Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale and the Hall of Famers,” Piazza recollected. “But, fortunately for me, I eventually ended in New York. Some way, shape or form, I became a New York Met, and truly have a special relationship here with the fans of the Mets.

“I feel like the fans here truly brought me into their family. Every time I’ve come back, I’ve been so incredibly honored from the response.”

Upon arriving in New York, Piazza gave the Mets the superstar that they had been searching for. Someone with star power that could compete with their crosstown rivals.

“We needed that,” said Al Leiter. “When you finally get that, it absolutely legitimizes where the team is going.”

He went on to make the All-Star team in seven of his eight seasons as a Met and helped lead them to the NLCS in 1999 and then, a year later, the World Series. He hit 427 career home runs, the most ever by a catcher, and more than half of those (220) came while he was a Met. His first as a member of the Mets came on June 1, 1998 off Pittsburgh’s Jason Schmidt in the eighth inning. His 220 home runs are third-most by any Met behind Darryl Strawberry (252) and David Wright (242).

None of his 220 home runs as a Met, however, had (and continues to have to
this day) a lasting impact on the population of New York City as the one he hit on September 21, 2001 following the September 11th terrorist attacks.

His mammoth blast in the eighth inning off Atlanta’s Steve Karsay not only gave the Mets the lead when they were trailing by one, but it helped heal the city of New York in a time when it needed a beacon of light. It brought the 41,235 fans at Shea in attendance that night bursting to their feet.

“I get emotional thinking back to that week,” Piazza said. “It’s something you can’t define. It changed all of our lives. Not just at a baseball level, but personally for me. It really put my life into perspective and what the important things are.“

“For me to be at the right place and the right time and to come through, I can only think it comes from above and a lot of people that put wind under my wings.”

Piazza went on to play in orange and blue for four more seasons and hit 83 more home runs. His 352nd home run as a catcher, which broke Carlton Fisk’s record for home runs by a catcher, came in the first inning on May 5, 2004 vs. San Francisco off Jerome Williams. He’d finish his career with the aforementioned 427 career home runs in his primary position of catcher. Also of note, his 396 career home runs while playing the position of catcher are also most by anyone who has ever played the game.

A year-and-a-half later, Piazza played his final game as a Met on October 2, 2005. He didn’t grab a hit in his final game at Shea, but when removed in the eighth inning, Piazza received an eight-minute standing ovation from the 47,718 faithful New Yorkers.

After a few years bouncing around to Oakland and San Diego, Piazza called it a career following the 2007 season. When it was all said and done, it would only be a matter of time for Piazza’s call from the Hall to come with the career numbers he’d put up. His .545 career slugging percentage is the highest all-time among catchers while his .308 batting average is eighth all-time for backstops. His .377 on-base percentage ranks him 13th all-time for catchers.

While his catching days were officially over, there was still one more pitch that Piazza needed to catch and, not surprisingly, it would come from the only other Met player to be enshrined in Cooperstown, Tom Seaver.

There wasn’t a more fitting dynamic duo for a final pitch and catch to close Shea Stadium on September 28, 2008 than Seaver to Piazza with 56,059 looking on at two of the team’s icons standing 60-feet, six-inches from one another. Seaver delivered the pitch to Piazza and then the two met at the mound and walked out, arms around one another. They’d go on to open Citi Field the same way.

“Without a doubt Mike Piazza was one of the top hitting catchers in the history of the game,” said Hall of Famer Tom Seaver. “For Mike to compile the stats he did while catching is amazing. His election to Cooperstown is most deserving.”

The wait for Piazza’s next honor won’t be long, as the Mets will honor the catcher by retiring his number 31 on July 30 when the Mets take on the Rockies at Citi Field as part of a Mike Piazza Tribute Weekend. His number, fittingly, will sit next to Seaver’s in permanent recognition in the ballpark.

Seaver’s No. 41 became the first number worn by a Mets player to be retired when the Mets bestowed the honor on Seaver when he was elected to the Mets Hall of Fame on July 24, 1988. Now, the honor is coming to Piazza.

“We are truly thrilled to honor Mike by retiring his number to recognize his incredible career,” said Mets COO Jeff Wilpon. “His offensive prowess, ability to deliver in the clutch, and tireless work ethic helped him become one of the great catchers of all-time.”

“It is such a tremendous honor to have my number retired alongside the great Tom Seaver,” Piazza said. “My time as a Met was truly special and I want to thank Fred, Saul, Jeff and the entire organization for this incredible gesture.”

When Piazza stood up to deliver his speech on the lawn in Cooperstown, it marked the culmination of all he had worked for over the course of his entire career. The player that almost didn’t get drafted, that toiled for years in the minors and waited years after his retirement for this recognition, will now forever be enshrined among the greatest, sporting the blue and orange cap he wore so proudly during his days in New York.

Ravenclaw!Luke lost his parents during one of the dark lords many slaughterings of innocent magical people in the midst of his quest for power. And even though it’s been years since the dark lord had plummeted to his excruciating death, the damage he left behind would never be forgotten. Luke used to be such a passionate young wizard, he was always so eager to learn and lend a helping hand to anyone in need, but that wizard has been gone for a long while now. The once cheerful and jubilant boy now had a somber look of sadness etched in to his features. He walked the hallowed halls alone, he shut his friends out long ago and he had no interest in making any new ones. Few heard him speak and even fewer tried talking to him in the first place, most writing him off as a lost cause. You had seen him many times before but he never saw you, not shocking considering it was more likely that Shamus wouldn’t blow something up than it would be Luke made eye contact with another witch or wizard. It wasn’t until one cool Autumn evening when he was leaving the library, paying absolutely no attention to where he was walking, that he collided in to you. Before the two of you could even exchange apologies, you seemed to be hypnotized by each other’s eyes. As beautiful as you found the sparkling blue pair looking back at you, he found yours to be even more exquisite. Seeing you was like coming up for a breath of fresh air, like he was finally able to stop drowning in the sorrow that seemingly consumed him. He tried to stutter out an apology and push past you but you weren’t having it. Catching the sleeve of his robe, you stopped him from making his escape and told him if he was truly sorry, he could make it up to you by hanging out with you later that night. And as Luke opened his mouth to politely decline your invitation, his mind seemed to have other plans as he found himself accepting your proposal. The first few weeks you hung out together were comfortably silent, you never pushed him to talk and he loved that about you. You slowly chipped away at the walls he had put up after his parents death and only a few more weeks after that and he was back to doing some of the magic he thought he had long forgotten. One day you found a headband left on your bedside table that bloomed beautiful flowers as soon as you placed it upon your head. Another, you found a small glass box that, as soon as you opened it, would paint your bedroom ceiling with all sorts of sparkling stars. And today when Luke showed up to your room with a bowl of water in his hands, a single rose petal floating at the top, you gave the boy a questioning look. “This is for you,” he would say, blushing as he handed you the bowl. As soon as you took it from him, the petal began to sink but just before it hit the bottom, it transformed in to a beautifully colored beta fish. All black except for its tail, its tail was at least 6 different shades of red and pink. Your eyes sparkled with amazement as you looked up from the bowl to the shy boy in front of you. Luke’s magic was just as beautiful as he himself and you adored him, he had unexpectedly turned in to the most important person you knew at Hogwarts. The only one you deeply cared for. “It’s beautiful, Luke,” you would say smiling, placing the bowl down before embracing him in a warm hug. He was quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you as close as he could to his chest, pressing the side of your head just above his rapidly beating heart. “I think you’re beautiful,” he would whisper into your hair, closing his eyes tightly as he pressed a gentle kiss atop your head. Luke still had a lot of healing to do, but of the few things he was sure of.. one was that nothing seemed as difficult when you were around.

Hogwarts!5sos blurb night w/ anarchyaustralia !
:-)

simplytherose  asked:

Oh man such a good list! (If no ones claimed them- 9 or 10 for Kastle haha :) and/or 4 for Trishica)

ONCE AGAIN, I’m sorry this took me so long. You guys are all so patient and wonderful. :D I hope it’s alright that I went with #10 - I’m not quite sure I fulfilled the prompt, but it was really fun to write, sooo….that counts, right? Thank you so so much for sending one in, my dear friend! <3


“Wait, my hero’s secret identity is… you? To be honest, I’d always kind of hoped…”

The coffee is her first clue. She comes back from a late lunch one afternoon to find a bag of it sitting on her desk, the house blend from a joint they went to once while dissecting a case, and her pulse skips in her throat.

He wouldn’t, she tells herself as she fishes her phone from her pocket and punches Foggy’s speed dial. No way. He wouldn’t.

Foggy just laughs when she tries to thank him. “Wasn’t me,” he says. “And you know how much I enjoy taking credit for selfless good deeds. Maybe you have a secret admirer at the office, or something.”   

“Or something,” she mumbles, and Frank’s face dances behind her eyes.

—–

She’s grabbing dinner with Claire and Misty a few weeks later when the song starts playing overhead. A peal of laughter bubbles up and out of her throat as the opening lyrics hit her ears - when you wish upon a star, your dreams will take you very far - and the two women sitting across from her pause mid-bites to stare at her.

“Everything alright, blondie?” Misty asks, head tilted and eyebrows arched.

Claire smirks. “You better not be laughing at my salad, Page. Just because I can’t pronounce half the things in it doesn’t mean it’s not delicious.” She takes a triumphant bite. “Mmmmmm, kale.”

Karen grins. “You hate kale.”

“That’s because it’s nasty,” Misty mumbles.

Claire shoots her a death glare. “Hey, who was that nice lady that kept you from bleeding out all over the basement of Harlem’s Paradise?”

“A crazy woman who pretends to like kale.”

Karen’s smile widens. She twirls her fork idly through her pasta as the song’s chorus rises above her friends’ bantering  - you’re a shining star, no matter who you are - and his face once again floats to the forefront of her mind, bruised and bloodied and alone.

(You were safe. I just wanted you to know that.)

She can’t help it; she glances over her shoulder, just in case.

Keep reading

Xenosaga Gothic
  • The tag is filled with porn again. It all looks the same. The android boobs are beginning to blur together. Was Xenosaga actually an H-Game? You can’t remember anymore. 
  • 1000 signatures for HD re-release. 1000000 signatures for HD re-release. One billion signatures for HD rerelease. Googolplex signatures for HD re-release.The petitions have hit their signature cap. Nothing happens.
  • You seem to recall a woman named Shion starring alongside KOS-MOS, but your peers keep saying it was T-elos. Wasn’t she only in the last game? Wasn’t she an antagonist? The fingers of one thousand T-elos figures shush you in unison. 
  • You can’t skip godsibb when it comes on shuffle. It’s been playing for six hours now. The seventh is upon us. You begin to understand the nonsense lyrics. You don’t remember it being this long.You don’t want it to stop. 
  • You attempt to write your history report on the Miltian Conflict. Your professor looks into your eyes, confusion evident. She tells you it’s a work of fiction. You sincerely doubt that’s true.
  • People keep insisting there was an anime adaptation. You look it up, but the eldritch horrors staring back at you hardly seem to resemble the cast you know and love. You close the browser, and try to forget what you’ve seen.
Freckles

(A/N): Cuddly Dean winchester is my shit

Warnings: Cute floof, sexy sleepy dean winchester, implied smut


Originally posted by black-little-demons

   Your body aches as you stretch your arms above your head. Your last hunt was a bit harder than intended but nothing you couldn’t handle. Of course when you came home a few hours late you got your ass chewed out by Dean but you knew that he was only worried. That one sided fight ended with Dean relenting, pulling you into a hug and whispering about how worried he had been. You of course didn’t hesitate to reassure him that you were fine, that you handled everything perfectly. But Dean needed more reassuring than just that (let’s just say Sam didn’t get much sleep last night). 

   Now, you lay beside a stark naked Winchester, his body warmth mingling with yours, making you that more sleepy. You smile sleepily as you snuggle back down into the covers, intertwining your legs with Dean’s. Even in his sleep Dean smiles softly as you slowly wrap your arms around his chest, being careful not to wake the sleeping bear. You press a loving kiss to Dean’s tattoo, a smile plastering itself across your face. 

   You couldn’t help but love moments like this, just moments were the two of you could slow down, pretend your life was normal for once. Like the two of your were an average, ordinary, everyday couple. 

   Your gaze flits up to Dean’s face and you can’t help but smile wider. The man was beautiful, especially when he was asleep. He looked so calm, so serene. It was nice to see such emotions on the Winchester’s face. The man was always so damned stress, with you and sam and the apocalypse hitting every other year he never once had anytime to just slow down and take time to relax. The only time that would ever happen was when Dean was sleeping. 

   Almost unconsciously your fingers reach up, just brushing the bridge of his nose. With soft touches you gingerly trace over every single freckle that dots his nose, you had never taken time to notice how many he actually had. In all honesty they were beautiful, like a sea of stars in an endless expanse of space. You were so intent upon tracing every freckle you failed to notice the shuddering breath Dean took, signaling that he was waking up. 

   “You havin’ fun princess?” Dean asks in that husky morning voice that had you feeling weak in the knees. 

   “Hmmm, very.” Dean chuckles, his arms slithering around your waist. 

   “Glad you find this so enjoyable,” Dean gently rubs his nose against yours, a sleepy smile making it’s way to his lips. 

   “They’re really pretty,” You whisper as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to one of the many freckles that adorned his nose and cheeks. Dean hummed softly, his chest rumbling against yours. 

   “I hardly notice them anymore,” Dean says through a yawn. 

   “I swear you gain more every time I look,” You giggle softly as you gently trail your finger along his nose, passing his cheekbones. 

   “I probably do,” Dean chuckles softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Now stop it, I’m trying to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Dean jokes, a sly smirk making its way to his lips. You laugh so hard you end up snorting, the sound only making you laugh that much harder. 

   “I bet Sam didn’t get much sleep last night either,” You finally calm down, small giggles occasionally falling from your lips. 

   “Yeah, he’s gonna hate us when we get up. That’s why we shouldn’t leave bed today,” 

   “Even If I wanted to I don’t think I could, I’m super sore.” Dean hums once again, no doubt smiling like an idiot. “I meant the hunt you dork.” 

   “You mean that your soreness isn’t due to anything I did?” You hum softly, a mischievous smile twisting your lips. 

   “Hmm…I don’t think so. Maybe I need another round or two?” Dean chuckles darkly and the sound send shivers down your spine. 

   “You got It princess,” 

Tell me
what you had for breakfast
did you have pancakes
or pancakes with chocolate chips?

Tell me why you chose to study business
when the complexity of machines
is what piques your interest.

Tell me about the city you grew up in,
describe the outlines of the skyscrapers
help me fall in love with it too.

Tell me
why you moved to the West
when the waters of the East
runs through your veins.

Tell me
about your favourite summer day,
the memories you carry with you through winter and spring
that makes you fall in love all over again.

Tell me
about the places that you’ve been,
describe the paths you’ve walked on,
and all the things you’ve seen.

Tell me
about the time you saw a hit and run
and how it made it you realise
that you are not immortal.

Tell me
how you’re not scared of the dark
but you’re afraid
of your own helplessness within it.

Tell me
what runs through your mind
let me smoothen the crease
in between your eyes.

Tell me
how to lift the edges of your lips
for you to break into that smile;
what makes you happy?

Tell me
about that roller coaster;
your ups
and your downfalls.

Tell me
the stars you see when you close your eyes;
map out the constellations;
what do you wish upon a shooting star?

Tell me
about the monsters under your bed,
the dreams you hide in your attic,
and the names buried within your ribs.

Tell me
what consumes you;
what does it take
for you to love me?

Tell me
something about you;
I want to know it all,
let me listen to who you are.

—  synsynish