The final chapter!! The story is complete! I thought I’d have a big wonderful speech ready when this happened but I don’t so I’ll wing it. Today is the one-year anniversary of my posting the first chapter of Life Sentence, No Cellmate, and I will never never forget the experience of coming up with that story and starting to think about how it might turn into this big thing that is now finished. I think the most remarkable, rare thing about it for me was that I never doubted I could do it, even in January when I was thinking ‘yeah this will be 500k+ if I write it the way I want to.’ Some kind of mechanism clicked into place and it was like I knew I could do anything I wanted to for a limited time, and this was what I wanted to do. I spent my whole year writing this story! I hibernated inside this story until the very and most brutal end of this year hammered reality back into the picture. And even then, having done this saved the year for me– not because I met this goal but because so many people reached out to me all year and told me it’s meant something to them.
(now I’m ugly crying fff I really didn’t think I would until
I have a lot of
feelings about fandom that I won’t be able to articulate right now,
at this hour, after this week, after this year, but the whole
experience of writing and posting this story really reminded me why
I fell in love with fandom as a teenager. I don’t know, I mean: I
made something I really loved, something weird and personal and very
hard to explain out of context, slapped it onto the internet without
needing anyone’s permission, and other people read it and got it
and were generous enough to tell me so!! That’s the reason I’ve
always been in fandom and that was my experience of this story more
than anything else, so while I sit here sobbing at my laptop (lol @
myself thinking I would not) I want to say thank you again to
everyone who has sent me encouragement for this story at any point
this year. I feel like through fiction people who would otherwise be
strangers can know each other in some way and for me there’s
something special about the fanfic version of that and it’s while
I’ll always write fic <3
It would strike me
as strange if the series ends without seeing Michael again.
explanation of “he’s singing show tunes and touching himself”
and God saying he wasn’t in any shape to fight – it kinda makes
me think that they’re holding Michael in their back pocket for the
end of the show or something. It also seems odd to leave him in the
corner while Lucifer is back on the board.
Lucifer and Michael
were the original mirrors for Sam and Dean. The big, big difference
between them is that when Sam was “cast out” by their father,
Dean went after him.
already shown us how easy it was for Lucifer to hop from vessel to
vessel, so even if they can’t get Adam Milligan or young John back,
there’s not really an excuse. We could easily say, “well, that
story has already been told” or “let’s stop recycling old plots,” but… there’s definitely more that
could be said. Chuck and Amara got closure. Lucifer and Michael got
tossed into jail.
What I’m really,
really torn on is whether or not I wanna see Michael!Dean.
On one hand, seeing
Jensen actually play another character (which pretty much everyone
else has had a chance to do) would be fucking wonderful. Especially
if Lucifer wasn’t exaggerating and we do get to see
On the other hand,
between Sam, Dean, and Cas, Dean is the only one who has never said
“yes” to an archangel, which kinda paints him as the poster child
for free will.
And on the other
other hand, Dean is supposed to be the “firewall between light and
darkness,” and a nice dose of angel grace would balance out the whole
turning into a demon thing.
But… yeah. I’d like a satisfying end to Lucifer and Michael’s story, not a throwaway line that Michael is in the cage masturbating until the end of time.
Lin-Manuel Miranda’s final bows for his farewell performance in “Hamilton” on Saturday night seemed routine, if overly humble for the departure of the show’s star and mastermind. He even shared his bows with the other cast members also exiting the show, including Phillipa Soo and the Tony winner Leslie Odom Jr.
But then the theme song to “The West Wing” kicked in from the orchestra pit.
Mr. Miranda giggled and took a couple of shy bows, only to turn around and be embraced then pushed back to the front of the stage by Christopher Jackson, who plays George Washington, for a proper bow.
Still, the curtain call lasted no more than two and a half minutes, despite fervent applause, which had been consistent throughout the night. The opening number received multiple standing ovations, as did many others. But Mr. Miranda and other performers would pause for only a minute each time before moving the show forward.
Afterward, in the pouring rain, hundreds and hundreds of fans filled West 46th Street, waiting for Mr. Miranda to emerge from the stage door at the Richard Rodgers Theater.
Instead, Mr. Miranda appeared, “Evita”-like, on a balcony atop the theater’s marquee. Holding an umbrella and waving to fans, he paced from one side of the marquee to the other, occasionally stopping to hold his left hand over his heart to show gratitude.
Then he was gone.
“It’s over, folks,” a police officer yelled as he tried to keep the crowd out of the street. “There’s no more.”
au for @everythingelsegoesherethen: dean winchester owns the marauders’ map and uses it to make sure he and castiel always ‘accidentally’ meet at strange times.
Since he became a Prefect at the beginning of his fifth year, Castiel Novak has dealt with a lot of troublemakers who clearly just haven’t read the Hogwarts rulebook.
Dean Winchester is not one of these.
Dean Winchester is clever. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s read the handbook and
And he never, ever gets caught.
Which is why Castiel is confused when he apprehends Dean for the third time in a month, trying unsuccessfully to get into a secret passage out of the school that Cas /knows he knows exactly how to access. And yet he’s tapping all over the one-eyes witch with his wand, cluelessly trying every combination of “Let me in!” that he can, acting for all the world as though he’s under some kind of Confundus charm.
He turns the light of his wand on Dean, and Dean turns around, doing a very good job of pretending to be startled.
“Yeah, that’s me,” the boy grins, blushing and looking down at the floor but not seeming at all upset that he’s just been caught breaking five school rules at once.
“Yes, well, you’re out of bed after lights out, you’re messing with school property and you’re using magic in the corridors.” Cas is a little flustered and he can’t even explain why, but he still manages to tick at least some of the offenses off on his fingers.
“I /am? Oh, man, Cas, I’m so sorry. And I promise you it won’t happen again.” Dean is all mock-apologetic as he claps Cas on the shoulder and starts to walk away down the corridor.
“F-five points from Gryffindor!” Cas calls after him in a shaky voice.
This becomes a recurring problem. The following week, Cas runs into Dean in the restricted section of the library without a note giving him permission to be there. A few days later, he catches Dean in the act when he’s just about to set off a whole box of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes fireworks. Another time, he finds Dean on the Quidditch pitch after dark when it’s supposed to be locked up, flying loops just to show off. Sometime after that, Cas goes to take a bath in the Prefects’ bathroom at the end of a long day, and he finds the tub already overflowing with bubbles, Dean in a pair of red swimming shorts lazily swimming laps.
And for some reason it’s always harder for Cas to keep his cool around Dean that it is around anyone else. Usually he’ll dole out detentions without even blinking;the whole school respecting his authority, but something about this kid has him barely remembering the name of the red and gold house that he’s supposed to be taking points from. It /irks him, because he was given the Prefect position for a /reason, and he’s supposed to be unbiased and impartial and above such things.
After all this has been going on for a good few months, and Cas is no closer to figuring out what exactly is going on in Dean Winchester’s unfairly pretty head, he finds a piece of parchment on the floor. It’s on his normal patrol route, but not on a main corridor - it’s on one of the back routes that only Cas is responsible for walking down on his shift after lights out. It’s placed right in the middle of the corridor where Cas is guaranteed to see it. Almost as though it was left especially for him.
He picks it up. It looks blank at first, but when he unfolds it, he sees that it’s a map - an incredibly detailed map of the whole of Hogwarts castle, every room drawn, Cas believes, perfectly to scale, labelled in calligraphy, every secret passage and hidden entryway marked. Not only that, but the map is enchanted, constantly moving, staircases twisting their way through the halls in what Cas suspects is real time, and most importantly of all, tiny sets of footprints making their way through the castle halls, each with a name attached to them. Cas spots his own name next to his own footprints, which are still in the exact spot that he’s in.
He takes a step forward, and the footprints move with him.
Most of the spots are clustered in the common rooms and dormitories at this time of night; just a few Prefects and professors wandering up and down the corridors. But Cas has a sneaking suspicion he knows who this map belongs to, and the person doesn’t seem to be in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitories where he should be. Against his will, Cas finds his eyes skating over the map, looking for the potential offender.
Dean Winchester’s spot is pacing the Tallest Astronomy Tower.
Of course, none of this necessarily means that the map /actually corresponds to where people actually are. It could just be an example. Could be everyone is placed randomly and doesn’t move, no matter where they really are.
Which, of course, explains why Cas is already walking purposefully towards the Astronomy tower, taking each set of stairs two at a time, checking the map every few seconds to make sure Dean is still in the same place.
He reaches the door to the tower, and he’s not even completely conscious of why he’s doing it, but he runs a hand through his hair to fluff it up and he straightens his blue and bronze tie before he walks inside.
Dean’s there, as predicted, no longer pacing but standing in the center of the room - waiting for him? The tower is open to the heavens - not like the Great Hall, not like an enchanted version of the sky, but actually open, the summer night stars glinting down and reflecting off of magical lights that have been conjured and left to hover all around the edge of the circular tower room, a light breeze ruffling Cas’ robes as he steps towards Dean, noticing that the usually bare wooden floor is scattered with large, puffy gold and bronze cushions.
Cas holds out the map. “I think this is yours.”
Dean takes it from him, not at all surprised to see Cas there. “Don’t think it’s really anyone’s. Thing kind of has a mind of its own. But yes, I’ve been using it for a while.”
“Tell me something?” Cas asks. “You just admitted this is yours. With this you can see anyone coming at any time, you can always stay one step ahead of any professor or prefect, you never have to get found out by anyone. But you keep letting me catch you. Why?“
"That depends,” Dean says with a smirk. “Why’d you bring the map back instead of handing it into a professor? Seems like it’s a contraband object. Seems like I /should get in trouble.”
Cas opened his mouth to retort to that, but realized he didn’t have anything to say. Why /had he come here? Dean was right, after all. His first instinct, as a Prefect with designs on Head Boy at some point in the future, should have been to turn the object over to a member of staff. His mind shouldn’t even necessarily have jumped to Dean. But it had, and now he was here.
“Alright. That aside, why’d you wait for me? Why’d you pick a specific place, here, that you have /no reason to be and just pace around hoping I’d show up to find you?”
Dean spluttered, but quickly recovered. “Why’d you look for me on the map? Why’d you stare at it for so long that you saw where I was in the first place?”
“Why’d you decorate? The stars, the lights, the cushions? Why’d you set this all up for a special occasion?”
They stared at each other for a while, breathing heavily, waiting for the other one to be the first to break.
Cas cracked, and Dean gave up at the same moment, and then he both of them were lunging towards each other, Dean grabbing Cas by the tie he’d just straightened, pulling it askew, Cas fisting both of his hands in Dean’s robes, both yanking the other towards them, crashing their lips together so hard that it was almost painful when they met, their bodies falling into each other, their teeth clashing and their noses bumping and when they pull apart, they both tumble down onto the pile of cushions they’ve set up and /now Cas understands why they’re there, /now it makes sense because their landing is soft and they can reach for each other again immediately, both of them lying on their sides in the heap of fluffy pillows, kissing each other over and over and over again, each one making their lips tingle. Over time, as they grow used to the feeling, the kisses become slower, softer, more languid, and the hooded eyes when they pull away from each other are less from desire and more from tiredness, and they’re both sure they’d be happy to sleep here.
"So, what? You’ve been risking detention and house points for Gryffindor and your reputation as someone who never gets caught just to… just to get my attention?” Cas asks finally, propping himself up on one elbow.
Dean tugs him back down and kisses him again. “Well, you’re risking your Prefect position right now. But I feel like you always have to risk a little something to get the best things in life.”
And between holding hands on long walks by the lake, between screaming themselves hoarse together at Quidditch matches, between feeding each other Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans while studying in the library, and between many, many more long nights in the Astronomy tower, Cas learns that as frustrating and complicated as he is; Dean is definitely one of the best things in his life.
Today marks the third-year anniversary of two felines who have destroyed the hearts of @shytalons and me. My drawing from a year ago is on the left, and MM’s super amazing fantastic gorgeous work from this year is on the right.
For those who are curious, these two perpetrators are Demon and Crescent, which resulted in a perfect, totally unplanned ship name: Descent.
For a trip down memory lane, I want to include a link to how it all started. MM’s breathtaking writing and fabulous illustration just started a fire in me. And after a seemingly innocent suggestion—BAM! We set up our own demises. I think about it all the time.
They have been through a heck of a ride youhavenoideaaaa but miraculously, everything has somehow nearly descended into place.
And honestly, the main reason why I mention this is because I just wanted our two pieces to live harmoniously next to each other. <3
I can't believe you like Wufei. I can't believe someone has Wufei has their favorite. One of the things I remember from my years in the Gundam Wing fanfiction fandom was that no one liked Wufei enough for him to be fave. Maybe you're a rare creature that should be protected?
Yeah man… my Gundam Wing days were dark ones…
It was always Duo- Quatre-(or maybe they were more even) Heero- Trowa- Wufei as far as pilot popularity went in my very small friend group… the only plus side is if anyone got anything Wufei related they just threw it at me because I was the trash.
I do actually. Please protect me. From myself… for I almost always choosing unpopular characters that people just like to rip on.
I’m back. And apparently I’m a masochist because I forced myself to write this one even though I was done for the week. This came from a very enthusiastic anon who asked for something about the 2014 World Cup article, and how Harry got his scar/how they deal with fame. So you get this, which is really none of that. Written for hpshipweeks. Hope you enjoy!
Oh, and if you think I am going overboard with the Americana, you have never seen us around any national holiday/sports game/any event really. If you think I am judging American teenage girls, I am, and I can because not even two years ago, I was one. And the Bent-Winged Snitches of my mind are a boy band, I don’t care what anyone else says.
“Why are we doing this again?” Harry asked his three female companions as they attempted to weave through the crowds. He reached back and grabbed hold of Rosie’s hand so he didn’t lose her.
“Because, Daddy,” Lily piped up from next to Ginny, “we need to meet the Bent-Winged Snitches.” Harry and Ginny exchanged amused glances.
“I don’t see the appeal,” Harry continued, just to taunt his daughter.
Rose and Lily looked appalled, and Ginny laughed. “That’s because you aren’t a young girl,” she said.
“They just make a lot of noise,” Harry complained. “That isn’t even music.”
“And you think that because you are getting old,” Ginny said, reaching over to squeeze Harry’s arm. “Rita did notice that you are going grey.”
Harry suddenly looked afraid. “What if she is following us? The next thing you know an article will say I am corrupting the girls by exposing them to crazy, hormone-driven American males.”
“Not to mention that we must be kidnapping Rosie from Ron and Hermione,” Ginny added, gesturing to their young niece.
Brazilian model and newly minted Victoria’s Secret Angel Lais Ribeiro has walked the catwalk for the likes of Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Marc Jacobs, but the stunning beauty’s rise to international fame has been anything typical.
The 24-year-old was one of ten models to earn their ‘wings’ and be named as one of Victoria’s Secret’s new Angels this spring, but Lais, who has a seven-year-old son named Alexandre, was born a world away from the bright lights of the fashion industry, in Teresina, Piauí, and grew up in a remote rural town in Brazil – never considering becoming a model until she was an 18-year-old mother of one.
Images from Lais’ personal photo collection, which include snapshots from her childhood, document how she went from a fresh-faced tomboy, and a teenage mother, to one of the most sought-after models in the world.