Melissa Gutierrez's Blog, page 37
February 27, 2013
Act 5, Scene 1Let me see. (takes the skull) Alas, poor Yorick!...
Act 5, Scene 1
Let me see. (takes the skull) Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times, and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. —Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? Quite chapfallen? Now get you to my lady’s chamber and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh at that. - Hamlet
Does anyone actually know what you have to do when people are singing happy birthday to you.
Does anyone actually know what you have to do when people are singing happy birthday to you.
comealongstormaggedon:
lesreichenbachfinn:
When...
When people turn to fictional characters, it’s often because they want an escape. The stories of these people shelter us from the storm of our daily lives; they save us, if only for a little while. But when we really give in, become invested, let ourselves be vulnerable, something changes. We begin to feel that we know them. It’s no longer just an escape, but part of us, something that makes us who we are.
These characters teach us that incredible adversity can be overcome. That people can love each other forever. That life can be an adventure. That magic can be real. And even if these miracles have never happened to us, we begin to go through life believing that, someday, they could.
If anybody ever tells me that storytelling isn’t important anymore, I’ll show them this post.
regulusfuckingblack:
carry-on-my-vulcan-sorcerer:
hornyspice:
mirandaisnothere:
hornyspice:
shin...
shine bright like a diamond
Diamonds don’t shine, they fucking reflect.
reflect bright like a diamond
you can’t “reflect bright” because reflecting is not the giving out of light and therefore cannot vary the intensity. the light shining on the diamond is what is bright
shine bright like the light that may somewhere be hitting a diamond
Random Destiel Fic in the middle of the night... (Part Two)
(This is part two of my random Destiel fic. If you know who the artist is for the above artwork, please let me know!)
No, Dean wouldn’t lose Cas. He wouldn’t. He slammed back into the hotel room where Sammy already had everything packed up.
“Let’s go.” Dean said, picking up his duffel bag that contained his stuff and a few shirts that Cas liked to sleep in. The thought made his heart thump strangely for a moment and the room spun.
“Whoa, man. Hold up.” Sam said, catching Dean’s arm and leading him to a chair where Dean took several deep breaths.
“No, we are doing this. They owe us a shit ton more than we owe them. We have to get to Bobby’s.”
“Dean, that’s a thirteen hour drive! You haven’t slept and neither have I.”
“Damn it, Sam! This is Cas! This is… We were-” Dean waved the thought away before he could complete it. Sam knew. Hell, everyone from the diner this morning knew.
They made the thirteen hour drive. They got to Bobby’s and Sam was able to relay what happened as Dean gathered the things they would need. Because Dean’s a fighter and if there was anything left for him to fight for, it was his angel.
It took months. One hundred and four days since that last Thursday. He called on every angel he knew by name and a few he didn’t. None of them answered. Until all he had left was Michael, the one who had taken Cas away in the first place.
By the time he had gotten around to calling Michael, he was broken and the only thing holding him together was seeing Cas again. When Michael came to him, he was surprised at how Cas’ and his Father’s favored child had changed. The light that had shone so brilliantly from his soul was dimming.
“You are… darker.” Were Michael’s first words to Dean. He was so taken aback that he didn’t even notice Sam behind him, lighting up a circle of holy fire that glowed bright and cast shadows on everything.
“If that bastard up there thinks He can take mine, then I’m getting something of His. Firstborn and favored, ain’t that right, Sammy.” Despite his willing participation, Sam looked apprehensive. “So, listen, junkless. I want my angel back. That’s all. I want Cas back here. Now. And we have this whole place warded from here to kingdom come so don’t think any of those other dicks up there will come save you.”
Bobby’s heavy steps marked his entrance. “The angel sigils are up. No one is coming here.”
“So, get on your angel radio or whatever the fuck it is-“
“Dean.” Came that familiar growl. He could feel it in his throat, licked along his collarbone, spoken into his palm, said breathlessly and holding him like a sacred prayer.
Sam’s eyes widened and Bobby stumbled back and Michael smirked. Dean turned and caught sight of his angel… his angel holding hands with an eight year old girl. Her dark hair fell in long ringlets and her bright blue eyes danced with laughter and… love. It cascaded from her in waves and Dean stumbled underneath the sheer adoration in her eyes.
She let go of Cas’ hand and walked over to Sam. Sam fell to his knees and the little girl laughed and the whole room rang with the pure joy of it. “Sam, you are a moose!” She giggle again and raised a hand to his face. Sam didn’t even seem to know he was crying and when the little girl wrapped her arms around him, she said, “It’s fine. It’s ok. Everything is forgiven. Jessica looks fondly down at you. Your mother, father they love you more than I can say in a human tongue. Just know,” The little girl pulled back and looked Sam in the eye. “You are so, so loved, Samuel Winchester.”
She let go and stepped back and damn it, if Sam didn’t look bereft at the loss of the little girl. She strode over to Bobby and looked up at him. He knelt in front of her and said, “I didn’t know you would be so pretty.”
She smiled and said, “Robert Singer. You are the bravest of all my children. And one day, you will rest. It’s not here, not yet, but know that you will be counted amongst the greatest of men who lived. And know also, that the boys you raised as sons, would not be who they were without you. You have sinned, but sins are forgiven. You are forgiven.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him in between his eyes and he wept as well. “You are forgiven and we all eagerly wait for you.”
She came and stood in front of Dean and when she took his hand, he lost his ability to stand. He sank to his knees like Bobby and Sam. For a moment, he forgot who he was and he could only swim in an ocean of love and forgiveness and glee and…
“Pride? Isn’t pride a sin?” Dean gasped.
“No, Dean. No, not at all. Because you have made me so proud. Of all my creations, you are my most beloved. I have loved you from afar and for so long that I think I forgot how proud you can make me.” She raised a hand and stroked it down the side of his face and Dean cried out. He had never felt such love in his life. Even when Cas wrapped him in a fevered embrace, he hadn’t felt this kind of love.
This kind of love, this unconditional, unwarranted, holy love was without end.
“You have nothing to fear, nothing left to lose. Nothing else will be asked of you. You are a warrior, a messenger, beloved and lover. Everything you have fought for is yours now. Castiel is yours. Sam is clean and whole and Bobby has many of your human years left. Castiel will be by your side for the rest of your life.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “I will need to call him home, but don’t worry. He will always come back to you. He is your angel. You are his human.” She quirked her mouth and seemed to hold back laughter.
“Michael, come. We will leave this family alone for the time being.” The fire went out by itself and Michael stepped out of it neatly and took God’s hand. They turned to the front door before she paused one more time.
“Dean, one more thing.” Dean looked up from where he was still slouched on the floor. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing. In my hands, I crafted you from love and from love is where you will always come from. Love is your gift.”
And with that, Michael and God left. Cas knelt by Dean and wiped his face with his trench coat. Dean looked up at him and scrabbled up to him and held him close. The only thing he could tell Cas was the truest thing he had ever known in his life.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
THE END
