#so on one side you have misha collins getting himself in situations

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Listen. I go to both - have been since like a decade - so I can't and won't pick.

But listen. Destiel made CW executives so freaked out they went and ruined the CW show Supernatural.

Stucky made Marvel executives so freaked out they went out and ruined the biggest movie franchise of all times.

They are the same. They're not the same. They are the same. They're not the same. Th

Propaganda

Stucky: Influence is undebatable. they're together 'til the end of the line. every time you see someone deserve a soft epilogue that's because of Them, know your herstory.

Destiel: do you know what i've been through in the last 3 years? do you know what some people have been through in the last 15 years? they fought a frigging war to get that angel gay, and no matter how much the CW wishes they could, you can't ungay him.

[sapphia]

Misha Collins having to come out as straight is still the funniest thing to have happened since the last supernatural thing, but I have seen some posts talking about it in the context of queerbaiting and I want to throw in my two cents. The phrase "You can't queerbait in real life" has come up and while I think that's a good rule of thumb, it also ignores a LOT of the nuance that this situation comes with.

There aren't many people who could accidentally come out as bi and have the situation be entirely of their own making, but Misha is one of the few. He has made a career as one half of the queerbaiting ship in the queerbaiting show. That queerbaiting was done in part BY HIM - if you look at analysis of spn queerbaiting and queerbaiting in general, an often-cited example is the way the actors present themselves and their relationships, and manage their relationships with fans. Statements about ambiguous sexuality are part and parcel of this, as are plausibly-deniable jokes, and it seems to me that this might have been the sort of behaviour Misha slipped back into, as used to it as he was from the con panel circuit.

He made the joke at a well-attended fan convention which are always recorded, and the actors are very aware of this, as are they generally aware that these videos will be posted online and poured over by fans. This is the relationship that Misha has cultivated with his fans, and it's one that has helped his career and that he's profited off over the years, so the scrutiny that his statement was under was very much of his own doing.

However. It would be unfair if we didn't also talk about the other side of how Misha got himself into this mess, and the fact is that the man is vocally and enthusiastically supportive of the queer community. Cynically you can look at the situation and say, well, his fans are very queer and he gets very positive reception for being supportive, so he's literally making money off this, and I think that's a fair criticism. But it's also counterbalanced with the fact that he's raised money for queer charities and created a supportive, queer-friendly environment for fans to exist in and used his power to champion gay causes, to the point that it was his vocal support for making Castiel in love with Dean that likely had one of the biggest impacts in the long, long decision to make Castiel gay.

Misha 100% got himself into this bizarre situation, and he certainly did it through his own behaviours that have literally contributed to real queerbaiting on Supernatural, as well as just his general pandering to queer Supernatural fans who have enjoyed him making raunchy queer jokes over the years, including about his own sexuality. But on the other side of the coin, it was also his unwavering commitment to his queer fans and his staunch support for the lgbt community that got him here. He wouldn't have been put in this position if he hadn't spent a large chunk of his life just generally being an ally to the community. There's no doubt that his statements were made with zero malicious intent, and while you can be skeptical of his queer support in general and how much of that is because it serves his own ends, that wasn't malicious either. He was put in this position because he was putting himself out there and he was walking the walk, and that's still something to respect.

So tldr; laugh at him and at the situation he's got himself in, but go easy on him. His heart was always in the right place, even if his foot so often seems to end up in his mouth.

[starshipsofstarlord]

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder​

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

 He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

 But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

 “What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

 Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

 “Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

 “I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

 “He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

 “We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

 “Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

 “What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

 Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

 “Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

 “(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

 “Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

 “Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

 Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

 “In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

 “We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

 Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

 “What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

 Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

 “Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

 The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

 And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

 “Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

 “I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

 Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

 But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

 “Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

 “First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

 “And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

 The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

 It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

 “I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

 “Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

 “Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

 The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

 “Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

  “But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

 Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

 The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

 “You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

 It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

 “I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

 They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

 “They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

 “Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

 “They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

 “Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

  “He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

 “I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

 (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

 He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

 But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

 “Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

   The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

 (Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

 Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

 And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

 She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

 Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

 “No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

 “They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

   “Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

 The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

 “That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

 “I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

 The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

 On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

 Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

 “Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

 He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

 “No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

 “Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

 “I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

[sibsteria]

cheatercheater [rob benedict] [part 2]

prompts: ''I don't love you anymore'', ''look what you do to me'', ''let's just stay in bed'', ''it was you the whole time''

summary: a year after [part 1] took place, about 6 months after you and Jensen broke up the fans found out about his cheating. Most of the fans supported you, some of them remained blinded by the media 'he wouldn't do that' or 'it's not like Jensen' but a full year after the incident, you and Rob were happy

characters: Rob Benedict, Jensen Ackles, Richard Speight Jr, Matt Cohen, Misha Collins, Jared Padalecki, (mentioned) Mark Pellegrino

warnings: fluff and a fraction of smut

part 2/2

---

The pristine sheets of the hotel room seemed rather grim against the beauty of the sun, that shone through the thin curtains. Lay beside me, Rob, looking so alluring wrapped up in light covers that contrasted his dark curls. His head lay soft against the pillow opposite to mine, light exhales from his nose calmed me in the early hours of the morning. I watched him for a while and wanted to run my hand against his beard, but I decides against it, today is going to be a long one.

Slowly creeping out of the warm covers, I slipped into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I zoned out as I felt the bristled against my teeth and gums. I could never stop thinking about him, the way his hand felt, brushing against the most delicate parts of my skin. The delicate trace of his lips against my shoulder as heaven revelled.

I filled up the kettle with water before flicking on the lever, illuminating an ugly orange hue. Clad in only an oversized shirt, I decided it was time to get dressed.

Walking in to the room where he lay, sleeping, or so I thought- I picked out the most simple clothes. A soft, grumble of a 'hi' sounded from the plush bed.

''Mornin', Robbie.'' I turn around and smile at him, tongue poking between my teeth as I grin from the sight of him.

''Time is it?'' His voice was light yet gravelly, still tired.

''Early, you could have had a few more minutes. Didn't want to wake you, sorry.'' Giving up on getting dressed just yet, I sat back down next to him.

''You didn't, don't worry.'' He directed his gaze at me, picking up his hand to trace my cheek as I lay facing him. ''God, so beautiful.'' An almost whisper resonated from him, my heart as it always does, flipped and flared due to him.

''Shut up.'' I whined, he tugged to roll me on top of him, in a straddling position. I lay my head against his shoulder as his hands grazed up my skin. From the skin of my thigh, to my hip, following under my shirt.

''Rob.'' I sighed against him, his face leant down to place a kiss on my shoulder. ''Don't think about it, we have a big day.'' He pouts, how fucking adorable.

''I'm not doing anything, I promise.'' I see the glimmer in his eyes.

I lift my head up and places my hands on his chest, leaning down and hovering over his lips.

''Don't tease me, you won't kiss me until I brush my teeth, I know you.'' He groaned, placing a rogue strand of hair behind my ear.

''Do you?'' I raise an eyebrow, before pressing my aching lips against his, desperate for attention. He pushed back with an unrequited fever, releasing the quietest of moans into my mouth.

''Now that is love, guys and gals.'' Groaning in appreciation, he grips my waist.

His hips involuntarily bucked up to mine, pressing his against me, nothing in between us but the fabric of his boxers. He gasps, his parts his lips, this can't go any further. There's no time.

''Robbieee, no.'' I try to shuffle off him only to be flipped over and crushed by his body.

''Look what you do to me.'' He whispers, his mouth trailing wet, hot kisses down the fixate of my neck. I sigh before putting my hand over his lips. ''Let's just stay in bed.'' He mumbled into my skin.

''We literally have to be in the lobby in an hour and a half. Come on.'' He grouses, removing himself from on top of me.

''Maybe I'll catch you backstage later, if you're lucky.'' He winks my way, I bite my lip and laugh.

''Not backstage, maybe the restrooms if I feel like you deserve it.'' I give him finger guns and start to pull on what I picked out.

''Ca-Can you, leave why I get dressed?'' I turn back to look at him.

''There's nothing I haven't seen befo- Oh?'' I smirked at him. ''Got a problem?'' A raging boner poked against his boxers.

''As much as I'd love to help you, I think I'll leave it to you so we can get there quicker.'' I bite my lip, a fuchsia hue painted my face.

''See you out there.'' I leave the room and finish getting ready.

---

''Where is he?'' Misha huffed. ''Usually I'm the late one.'' Our group of six agree in a short burst of laughter.

''We had some problems this morning.'' I tried to sound as casual as possible, but as Rich is a mind reader, he chooses this as an appropriate time to tease me.

''Problems, eh? Why are you not up there?'' He flamboyantly drums my arm with his fingers, I glare at him.

''Didn't want to get carried away, told him we had to be earlier.'' I cross my arms, a shy blush plastered on my featured. An awkward silence fell over Jensen and I, although I thought we had moved past us, he clearly hadn't. Leaving it to Matt to break the tension for us.

''Tonight is karaoke night then, huh? Let's try and get Mark to revisit Rocky Horror.'' I nod in agreement.

''I can do that, he'll listen to me.'' Bad choice of words, Y/n.

''Oh, I bet he will.'' I her come from Ackles, low yet loud enough for me to hear.

''Excuse me, what?'' I ask him, innocently.

''Nothing.''

''No, if you have something to say then say it, we're all family here.'' I gesture to us all.

''It was nothing.'' I pull him to the side angrily, Jared walks from his side to the group of us.

''Look, I don't have to be here if you have a problem with me-'' I start, Rob's entered the lobby, he reads the situation.

''I still love you.'' He rushes out, a hand holds his forehead.

''Jensen, I don't love you anymore. And you clearly didn't love me, or else you wouldn't have cheated.'' Rob can make out the conversation from the distance he's in, so can the rest of the group. ''I'm happier, aren't you? We don't have to lie to ourselves any longer. You can sleep with as many women you want and I can be in the loving relationship I need.'' Rob's heart swells as I defend our relationship.

''Please, I'm not myself without you, I miss you. Give me another chance?'' His pleading eyes do nothing for me.

''You had one, you fucked it up. Let's move on from this, go fall in love, go fuck, go have fun. It's what you wanted to do whilst we were together, so do it.'' I put a hand on his shoulder as he inhales.

''I can't promise I won't let you go.'' He whispers, I shake my head.

''Try, please?'' I walk away from him, before Rob steps in.

''You okay?'' He whispers into my ear, as I stood next to him and the group.

''Yeah, just clarifying some things.'' I reach up and rub the space under his eye with my thumb.

''You-You wouldn't go back to him, would you?'' The hopeful look in his eyes almost me into tears.

''No, never, it was you the whole time. Always will be, you ain't getting rid of me now.'' I kiss his cheek before we jog to keep up with the group who had already started to move as some handlers arrived.

''Good.'' He says to himself, although I hear him, he needs to work on that.

[redneckangelsdrinkmoonshine]

Yesterday something weird happened and I wasn't gonna talk about it, but I am gonna talk about it. It's gonna be a vulnerable post y'all.

So, I finished season 13 and I wanted to watch some random videos instead of starting a new season or maybe listen to some music so I switched to YouTube. There were a lot of Misha Collins videos in my recommendations and they were all titled "Halo" (my favourite Beyonce song), "I Lived" (my favourite One Republic song) and some others. I was sure they were gonna be quite emotional, but I wanted to watch them.

I had watched videos where Misha talks about his scars, being homeless, being fat, all that earlier, this week (I almost cried) and y'know, knowing small pieces of this guy's past made me feel like we're family and it made me appreciate him more.

Watching these videos? One minute into the first video, I started sobbing, the last time I cried so hard was so long ago. I ended up watching like, ten videos in a row, I barely saw anything through my tears but what I saw, I'll have it tattooed on my heart forever.

I knew he has different charity organisations, but I never realized how big they are and how much Misha is actually involved in them. But that wasn't the only thing that made me cry,

I cried so much, because I was proud and full of hope. I'm proud of Misha, of how much he's grown, of how even though his early, delicate years were filled with so much pain and anger, that guy was able to succeed in life and he was able to keep his halo. Misha is an actual angel, no wonder he was cast on the show, but he is an angel and the world should have at least one more person like him, even though Misha Collins is one of a kind.

Another thing that made me cry even harder before I just ran out of tears was that feeling of overwhelming hope. Being in a rough situation right now, quite often I feel like I'm gonna come out on the other side as my worst version ever. As much as I'm improving, my head feels quite heavy sometimes and sometimes it's way too hard to keep it up. Some of my old additions, things it took me years to get rid of are crawling back and for now, I'm able to push them away because I know they don't help, but do the opposite. However, living in a place where you're barely liked and being openly hated and judged when you leave the house just makes you feel hopeless and homeless.

Watching these videos of Misha and also reading quite some interviews, it gave me hope, because Misha is human. If he was able to go through such terrible things, then I believe I can do the same, and maybe I can be as good of a person as he is.

But there was one thing that broke me. It hurt, emotionally and- it just hurt in every way possible. Hearing Misha say that he's not worthy of anyone looking up to him, hearing him say all these terrible, horrible things about himself.

Dmitri Tippens Krushnic, you're worthy of every single person that has a special place for you in their heart. Don't you dare ever forget that. Don't change and never stop shining so brightly, never strip the world of your smile, because it's pretty much like the sun : we're gonna die without it.

Thank you for existing. (and I'm sorry to whoever read that whole thing just now)

[waywardnerd67]

TFWB - Chap 22 Life Changing Call

Summary:  Misha receives a phone call from a lawyer in his hometown about his aunt’s family. Characters: MIsha Collins, Molli Sanderson (OFC) Pairing: Misha x Molli (OFC) Warnings: Fluff/AU Word Count: 1869 Squared Filled: Adoption A/N #1: This is for @spnfluffbingo​ card

Check out: The Family We Built Masterlist

Misha waved goodbye to the Crazy Cat Ladies as they left their weekly class. Cleaning up the studio and closing up for the night. Molli would be there soon for their weekly TV catch up. He went to call in their weekly Chinese order when he noticed a voicemail waiting for him.

“Hello, this message is for Mr. Misha Collins. My name is Joe Walters and I’m a lawyer in Boston. I need you to call me back at 617-555-0820 concerning an important matter with your Aunt Abigail’s Will.”

“Hey babe,” Molli called out as he looked up wide eyed at her, “Misha what’s wrong?”

One Week Later

Being back in Boston was unnerving for Misha. Memories of not knowing where his next meal would come from and shelters they had lived in and out of. Molli wanted to go with him but she had finals coming up. He had insisted that she stay in Austin to study. His meeting was not for another hour and he decided to go to his favorite bakery from when he was a kid.

Walking into the law office reminded Misha of Jensen’s office building. Checking in with the receptionist, he was led into a small meeting room. Soon after a tall, balding man entered the room with a large folder.

“Hi Mr. Collins, I’m Joe it’s nice to meet you.”

He shook his hand, “Misha please, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Your Aunt Abigail was such a lovely woman and I’m sad she’s gone now.” Misha could see the genuineness of his statement.

“From what I can remember she was. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m here. I haven’t spoken to any of my family in years. I can’t imagine anything in her Will being for me.”

He watched as Joe opened the folder pulling out several sheets of paper, “Yes, Abigail had told me that when she made this change a few months before she passed. She had followed your success in Austin and volunteer work. She was proud of the work you have done and the man you grew to be.”

“That is quite surprising since I left the family when I was fifteen.” He scoffed leaning back into his chair.

Joe chuckled softly, “She always said you sailed on your own sails. Anyway, your cousin, Amy, fell into a rough crowd of drug users and Abigail was granted guardianship of her daughter, Zalyn. It was your Aunt’s wish for you to take over that guardianship and move Zalyn to Austin.”

He set, in front of Misha, Guardianship papers drawn up a month earlier naming him the new appointed guardian of the thirteen year old girl. On top of those, was a handwritten letter from his Aunt.

Misha,

If you’re reading this then I have passed and Joe has kept his promise of getting you to Boston. I know you left the family because of your mother’s decisions to keep a vagabond lifestyle. You wanted more from the world and the trails you went through as a child formed you into the wonderful man you are today. You followed your heart without fear or hesitation and against the grain of what your family wanted. I admire that about you and only wish I had done the same. Now, I want you to instill that on Zalyn’s young life. I see a lot of you in her and only wish I had the strength to take her to Austin myself for you to meet. She needs someone like you Misha. She needs to get away from Boston and cut the last tie holding her to her mother. You are the only one strong enough to do that for her. Only you can give her a family she needs and one day will appreciate when she is an adult. Please, Misha… not for love of family but for the love of a vulnerable human life. Please help Zalyn the way you helped yourself by getting far, far away from this family.

I’m so proud of you. Please remind Zalyn of how much I love her.

-Abigail Collins

He let out a shaky breath reading over the guardianship papers in front of him, “This says that my cousin gave up her parental rights a week ago.”

“Yes, Zalyn had gone to see Amy in rehab and it did not end well. Amy signed over her rights that day telling Zalyn she never wanted to see her again. Right now, she is staying with a foster family just outside of Boston. She will remain there until she is either adopted or ages out of the system.”

Misha ran his hand through his hair, “This is a lot to take in…”

Joe leaned forward, “I know it is, but time is of the essences. We will have to appear in court tomorrow morning to make this all official. I’m sure you would like to meet Zalyn as well so I arranged for her foster family to bring her after school at three-thirty.”

He looked at his phone seeing Molli’s smiling face, “So I have a few hours to think about a huge life changing decision. No pressure.”

“I know it is more than anyone should have to deal with. I will leave you alone please feel free to stay here until Zalyn comes. If you need anything just let my assistant know.” Joe got up heading to the door stopping before he walked through it, “Abigail, saved me from falling down a dark path. Helped me pay for law school and taught me valuable life lessons I will carry with me forever. I believe, as she did, you will do that for Zalyn.”

With that he walked out closing the door behind him. Misha laid his head down on his arms swallowing deep breaths to keep himself from vomiting. Resentment and rage flowed through him for a long lost family he left behind guilting him into this. As he looked through the file Joe had left he saw a picture of Zalyn. Her dark brown hair matching his own and she even inherited the Collins’ bright blue eyes. He looked to his phone again and knew the call he had to make.

“Hey Molli, well you’ll never believe what this was all about.” Misha started to explain the situation he was being presented.

Of course, Molli had been one hundred percent supportive of him becoming a guardian for the girl, “Misha you have too. I know how you feel about family but this may be her one shot to having a stable life. If you can help change her life for the better then there is no other course to take.”

“This isn’t like adopting a puppy. I would be adopting a thirteen year old girl. I have no idea how to raise a child let alone a teenager.” He was now pacing in the small room trying to reason his way out of this.

“Remember how hard it was for you as a teenager on your own? Do you want her to have that same fate? Plus you wouldn’t be raising her alone. You have all of us here to help you.”

Her logic was maddening and without thinking he said something he never thought he would, “Oh yeah because you’re old enough to raise a teenager. You’re barely ten years older than she is!”

An audible gasp echoed from his phone as he flopped down into his chair, “I didn’t… Molli…”

“You did mean it. You have a lot to think about and I have studying to do. Goodbye Misha.” She ended the call before he could say anything else.

Clutching his cell in his hand he threw it against the wall shattering it to pieces, “Fuck!” he yelled putting his head in his hands.

Misha looked down at the picture of Zalyn once again as Molli’s words echoed in his mind, “Do you want her to have that same fate?” He knew in that moment what he had to do.

The trip from Boston to Austin had been mostly silent. Misha was pulling up to his studio while Zalyn sat in the passenger seat with his earbuds in. He knew she would need space and time to work out what was going on. He only hoped that she would open up to him and they would be able to have some kind of normal relationship. On top of everything else, he had not spoken to Molli since the day he signed the adoption papers for Zalyn. He only hoped she would forgive him because he did not know if he could do this without her.

He carried Zalyn’s bags inside where he found his friends all waiting for him. Zalyn was caught off guard at first but quietly greeted each of the people he considered to be family.

Molli walked up last shaking Zalyn’s hand, “I’m Molli, it’s so nice to meet you. I can’t wait for us to get to know each other.”

Zalyn seemingly perked up seeing someone younger there. Molli placed her arm around her shoulders and led her into the studio to show her around. Watching them walk away, he did not see Rachel coming up beside him and punching his arm.

“Ow! What the…” he yelped holding his throbbing bicep.

“That is for making her cry. Make things right or you’ll get worse.” Rachel gently patted his cheek walking off towards Jared.

When everyone was up in his apartment and settled around the TV, Misha took the opportunity to have a moment alone with Molli in the kitchen. She was popping some popcorn on the stove and he could not help to stand admiring her. His heart ached as the overwhelming emptiness within him took his breath away.

“I’m sorry. I was an asshole and took it out on you. I’m sorry for what I said.” His voice trembled fearing she would accept his apology.

Molli turned around, closing the distance between them, “Don’t you ever belittle me because of my age again.” Her arms were wrapped around him as he buried his head into the crook of her neck.

“Never again beautiful, I promise. I’m truly sorry.”

She pulled away pressing her soft lips against his, “I know you are and we can talk about it more later. Right now, this is about welcoming Zalyn to Austin and showing her how our little family puts the fun in dysfunctional.”

Misha laughed helping to bring more snacks and drinks out. As he sat with Molli by his side and Zalyn sleeping against him, he realized that life would never get better than this.

***

(Y/N) smiled at her favorite photo of Misha, Molli and Zalyn from Molli’s college graduation. The young girl was the missing piece for their little family and everything came into place when she came to Austin. There had been several bumps in the road but looking out her window to see them all now had been worth it. Zalyn was graduating high school this upcoming year and planned to go to UT Austin for college. Following in Misha’s footsteps of being an studying art education to become a teacher.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

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[fanficcollection]

Tumblr-Girl (Part 14)

Pairing: Misha Collins x reader Summary: you passed out, what now? Word Count: again ~2400 Warnings: panic attacks (!), angst, depression, mental illness and self doubt

Notes: YASS, a new chapter! I’ll love you for your feedback!

Part 1 Masterlist  

Mishas PoV

Instead of waiting for the paramedics to come into the fully crowded room, I picked the girl from the floor and carried her outside, the girl who shouted for a doctor went with us. Jensen and Jared tried to clear the way and also to keep the people calm. I heard Jared talking loudly to the fans, so everybody could hear him “Please stay in there, guys. Rob and Rich are continuing their panel. Please give her some space and some respect. Please stay back. We got this.” While he was stopping the people from following us outside Rob and Rich started to do the same on the stage, they told everyone to stay calm and did their best to keep them entertained. At first some people looked disappointed, but soon they calmed down and as the doors were closed after us I could concentrate on the girl in front of me. I put her down on the floor and realized that she was breathing very quickly and her heart was pounding wildly. “I- I guess there were too many people.” Her friend, who followed us outside said. 

“What’s her name?” I asked and she told me that the girl was called Y/N. I jumped for a moment, but then I thought about it, it had to be a huge coincidence if it was THE Y/N. No, that couldn’t be her. I took of my jacket and put it under her head. “The paramedics have to be here soon. She will be okay”, I tried a smile “What about you? What’s your name?” the girl couldn’t look away from the girl lying on the floor. “I’m Beck.” She answered slowly. “And I think it’s my fault that she passed out. I told her to come to this panel. I didn’t know you were here. I thought there would be less people. I knew she was overwhelmed with the situation.” She started to talk without pausing. She just stared at the girl on the floor.

I stood up and went up to her “Look at me, Beck. It’s not your fault. Y/N will be good.” As I said that the paramedics turned up, they checked Y/Ns body functions and reflexes and then said “Looks like a heavy panic attack. We’ll take her to the hospital, but she should wake up soon and normally she should be able to leave the hospital by tomorrow. “ I nodded. The paramedics put Y/N on a stretcher and brought her outside. “C-can I come with her?” Beck asked “I think I’m the only one she knows at the con…” one of the paramedics looked at her for a few seconds and then agreed “It will be good for her to know somebody, when she wakes up” he said and Beck ran after them, after a few meters she turned to me and smiled “Thanks so much for helping.” Then she ran off to the car.

I looked at her until the ambulance left the convention center, then I turned back to Jensen who stood next to the door and talked to a security guard. “She’ll be good.” I said as he looked at me questioning. “Panic attack, probably because of the loads of people.” Jensen nodded and patted my shoulder. “We should tell Rob, Rich and Matt that she will be good. But I guess it’s better to go backstage to avoid the attention.” I said nothing, but I knew he was right and so we went backstage and waited until one of the guys saw us, it just took a few moments until Rich went up to us “Is she alright?” he asked and Jensen told him a short version of what happened. Rich nodded. “Ok.. good. Thanks for helping her out guys.” He said and shot us a smile then he went back on stage. He whispered something to Rob and Matt and as they nodded they kept taking questions and entertaining the people. Jensen started to walk away “I guess we should get some rest. They will finish without us. You coming?” I stared at the stage; she had to sit down there, somewhere in the crowd. But Jensen was right, there was nothing to do for us at the moment. We had to wait and hope  that everything was working out. So I joined Jensen. He shot a short message to Jared, who was still at the stage with the other guys, and told him that we were leaving.

We didn’t talk the whole way up. When we got to our rooms Jensen looked at me “I think I’ll order some room service. I’m not in the mood to go out tonight. You wanna join?” I smiled “Yeah. I thought about that as well. I’m just putting my jacket and everything in my room, I’ll be here in a minute.” While I walked up to my own room I checked my phone. More specifically I checked my tumblr-account. I wanted to know if Y/N was here and as soon as I opened the app I saw the notification sign. My heart rate increased.

“WOW. I’m here. I mean, at this very moment I am at the hotel, because there are really a LOT of people.”

I smiled, she was here, I would really meet her this weekend. I kept reading the text, she said something about her plans for the weekend, that was good, so I could check if everything was going like planned.  

“Nevertheless, I was there for a few hours and I’m looking forward to the R2M panel today. To be honest I had to pick a few things, I don’t think I will be able to attend the whole convention, it’s too loud and too busy there. But I guess, if I choose the right things I can do that! J […]”

I stopped. It sounded like she wanted to pick events, with less people. No. My panel was one of the best visited of the con, that couldn’t happen. She had to be at your panel. She said something about the R2M panel today, but she didn’t mention my panel at all. Would the whole plan go wrong? I put the phone away without reading the whole text. No that wasn’t possible, I planned everything, it had to work out.It couldn’t just go wrong. No. I left the phone in my room and went to Jensen to order some food. I will find a solution for this problem. But I have to get myself distracted, just for a moment.

Your PoV

You woke up slowly, there was a terrible pain in your ankle and you had a dull headache. You tried to open your eyes, but everything was dazzlingly bright. Something was pressed at your face and you felt panic creep up inside you. You tried to push this thing from your face but your arms were quite heavy. Suddenly somebody reached out for your hand. “Y/N… It’s okay. You will be fine. Shhhh.. You have to stay calm. I’m here. You remember me? I’m Beck. Shhh..” a voice said. You tried to locate where the voice came from and recognized a girl who was smiling at you. She held your hand and you just looked at her as you saw something move on the other side of your body. Instantly you began to cry and scream hysterically, you broke away and lashed out. You ripped the thing off your face and wanted to get up but you realized that your legs and your body were fixed. “NOO! LET ME GO!” you yelled at the girl and you tried to free yourself from the straps that were fixing you but in the next moment a man gripped you at your wrists and tried to steady you “shhhh.. Y/N, you are safe. Just a few more minutes, we’ll be there soon. No one is going to hurt you.” You looked at him but you didn’t stop panicking. You felt tears well up in your eyes and slowly your sight blurred, but you couldn’t calm down. A few seconds later you felt a cold pain at your left arm. You cried but slowly you started to black out again, the last thing you realized was this thing that was pressed against your face again and in the background you heard someone sobbing.

When you woke up again you laid in a bed, your ankle still hurt. Your throat was dry and you heard a familiar beeping-sound. You instantly know where you were �� hospital. You remembered your last stay, when you met Jacob, and you smiled. So much has happened since then. Slowly you tried to open your eyes, you were prepared for the bright and medical atmosphere. There was a needle in your armpit, you groaned. You saw some bruises at your wrists and arms and also some marks where you were fixed on the stretcher. “Ouch.” You whispered to yourself. Everything hurts, your head, your arms, your ankle.

“You are awake!” somebody said sounding tired, “I waited here, I thought that nobody wants to be in hospital alone” she continued. You said nothing, but you nodded. “You will be okay. The doctor said your ankle isn’t broken, but you ruptured your ligaments when you fell on the floor in the convention center. You’ll need a splint for a few weeks and for the first week some crutches.” She told you and you nodded again. “Thank you, Beck. For staying here with me, but you don’t have to do this. You will miss the whole convention.” You felt guilty and you couldn’t look at Beck. “I’m sorry for being a burden to you. I’ll be alright, you can go back to the con.” You told her and again tears welled up in your eyes, but then you felt someone reaching out for your hand. “This fandom is not just fandom Y/N, we are family.” She smiled. “So I will stay here as long as you need me. You know who carried you out of the convention room – it was Misha Collins himself. Because we are family, Y/N. We all are a very crazy kind of family. We care for each other and we have each other’s back.” She gave your hand a squeeze and you didn’t know what to respond. You never had this kind of family. A tear rolled down your cheek. “Thank you.” You whispered. Beck told you more about what happened, and you couldn’t believe it. It was surreal to you that someone would care for you like they all did. Some time later you saw that your phone laid on your nightstand and you quickly checked the time. It was late, it was dark outside and in the next moment I nurse came in and checked your data and your levels. “Good, I think you have to stay tonight for observation, if your levels stay this good you can leave soon, maybe tomorrow or on Sunday.” She said. Then she looked at Beck “She is doing good, I’m looking after her, you can go home for the night and get here again tomorrow. Visiting hours are over.” She stared at her, then at you and then she agreed. “Good. Y/N, I’ll get here tomorrow morning to check on you.” She again gave your hand a squeeze. “Sleep well! See you tomorrow. And thanks again, Beck!” you answered and returned her squeeze.

When she and the nurse left your room you took your mobile phone and checked your e-mails. There was a new text message from Jacob, he asked how your first convention day was. You thought about how to tell him everything, but you didn’t want him to freak out and never allow you to go anywhere alone again, so you just wrote “It was nice. I met some really nice people. Looking forward to tomorrow. Have a good night! <3” After that you checked your tumblr. You were a bit disappointed when you saw that Dmitri hasn’t replied since your last text, but on the other hand you couldn’t expect him to be online the whole day. You opened a new message and started to write:

“Dmitri!

There was a lot of chaos today. I don’t know where to start. It was crazy. I think I’ll never forget my first convention-day, even if I don’t remember an important part of it. J You have to know I’m quite anxious about big groups of people, as I told you earlier today, so I decided to see the R2M panel with this girl I met, Beck. But somehow Jensen, Jared an Misha crashed the panel and after a short time the room was completely full with people, because normally they aren’t showing up on Friday. So there were a lot of people and I couldn’t breathe anymore it was just too much, too overwhelming. Do you know how this feels? I hope you don’t. I guess I just panicked and passed out. Beck said that I fell like a sack of potatoes. And guess what happened. To be honest I can’t remember that, but Beck told me, so I guess it’s true. When Beck shouted into the room for help, nobody less than Misha, Jensen and Jared jumped off the stage and tried to help me. Misha even picked me up and carried me outside. He cared for me while the others tried to keep the crowd calm and entertained. I would love to meet them in person and say thanks to them. But even if I could get out of hospital until Sunday, there won’t be a chance for me to speak to them. I still can’t believe that these people care about me. I thought I was just another fan, I… I don’t know what to say. It's crazy.

Dmitri, probably you aren’t interested in all these stories. I’m sorry. I just wanted to tell it to somebody. I don’t know, sorry for the unnecessary talking. Tell me something about your weekend, how are you? What are you doing?

I’m looking forward to your message!

Love, Y/N”

You read about the text before you sent it and you had to smile. It really was a crazy, crazy day. You couldn’t believe it yourself. After you sent the message you put your phone away and tried to sleep.

Part 15

@chantelle-c333​ @awolfamongstus​ @jannalionheart  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @evyiione​ @destielschild​ @xx-melissa-x @kcam1621​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @kristendanwayne​  @haappy-go-lucky @laffytaffyhumor​ @thebookisbtr​@michell868​ @duubaduu​ @darthcastiel​ @theoneandonlysuccubus​ @internationalmusicteacher​ @gracejo2 @nanie5​  @goobykeding @captainsherlockwinchester110283 @irene-frazer​ @thealienplace @hey-an-original-url @youknowitsmj @anspgene @sarahbaker2010 @mimzy1994 @shore-line-jewels187

[kazekohitori]

This is a four part fanfic I wrote for myself and my friends to help deal with the pain of the end of Castiel and Supernatural.

Please read CastielXStacie Chapters One and Two, CastielXAllanah Part One, and CastielXStevie before continuing.

CastielXAllanah Part Two

Allanah took Castiel back to her house where she thought they could better analyze the situation. She explained along the way that, in this world, Castiel was a character in a tv show played by beloved actor Misha Collins. Sam and Dean were played by two Texans who, after portraying brothers for so long, were very much like brothers in real life. The creator of the show, Eric Kripke, had left after season five and that was why the writing had taken a turn for the worse. Castiel listened intently, everything she said had all happened to him in the exact same way. Could the writers of this show be prophets? He didn’t recognize the names as such but maybe in this universe there was a different list of prophets inscribed into the angels minds.

And what of the angels? Were there angels here? Allanah said she had never seen one but couldn’t in good conscience exclude their existence. There had been no angel radio communications; in fact Castiel’s angel senses could not pick up any vibrations of the supernatural. No angels. No demons. No witchcraft or magic. This world seemed to be void of them. That, or his senses weren’t functioning properly.

Castiel had sat at Allanah’s computer the rest of the afternoon and evening reading news articles looking for signs of abnormalities that could be tied to his arrival here. He had found nothing. Deciding instead to focus on what was in front of him he looked into the show following his recent experiences. He had been interested in the love Misha Collins’ fans had for him and all the good Misha had triggered in this world. Allanah had gushed about what she knew of Misha and how kind he was, stating that was one of the reasons she loved the character Castiel. Not only did Misha portray a memorable angel, he was practically an angel himself.

Allanah went about her evening rituals while the angel did “research”. She finished her chores about the house, played with Emma, made dinner for them, put Emma to bed, and did the dishes all while Castiel sat hunched over the computer.

After her evening routine was complete she approached Castiel with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “You drink?”

Studying her he sat back, “I- uh... sure.”

Setting a glass down next to him she poured a glass for him, then one for herself. Holding her glass up to his when he took it, she said, “To new friendships.”

A small smile crept to his lips as he watched her take a sip and then followed suit. He only tasted molecules but it wasn’t unpleasant. He had learned with each “tasting” of human consumables he could discern the different molecular structures and, in a sense, taste. He liked sweet foods such as cereal and chocolate candy bars but the love he once had for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches was gone. This wine, to him, had semi-sweet undertones, like chocolate, with a hint of grape jelly. With each sip it started to grow on him.

Allanah went to sit on the couch in front of the tv where he joined her. “Shall we watch something?”

He gave a small nod, “if you want.”

She flipped through her tv’s menu for something he might enjoy, “anything in particular?”

He watched her take a sip of wine. Her lips pressing to the glass as the red liquid flowed in and over her tongue, her throat muscles bobbed with the swallowing action. Her neck had a graceful length and dip to it. And the way she held her head, as though some invisible crown lay upon it. “A queen of her domain,” Castiel mused, “not one easily trifled with.” And yet she had allowed him, what he considered himself to be, a stranger, into the bosom of her home. There was an easiness about her. She didn’t make him feel as if he were a stranger. She had welcomed him home, offered him a room to stay, with it’s own tv, access to a computer and the internet, and some spare clothes (apparently from an old boyfriend) for him should he wish to change, all without asking anything in return or expecting anything of him until he could ascertain the situation he now found himself in. Her kindness, he thought, was not found in every human. She was part of the rarer breed.

Allanah side-eyed him, “Hello? Any preference?”

Castiel withdrew his attention from her, focusing instead on his glass as he brought it up for another sip. “No. What ever you wish is fine.”

She opted for Criminal Minds and settled herself in for a riveting episode. However, shortly therein she felt his eyes upon her again. The angel on the show had a habit of awkwardness and staring. She had always considered this endearing. Now that she was on the opposite end of it she wasn’t so sure. Being so heavily scrutinized she couldn’t enjoy the show. She was tempted to snap at him but knew that would be detrimental to their budding friendship or, hopefully, she thought, romantic relationship.

She glanced at him, taking in his relaxed form sitting beside her on the couch. Would he ever take that trench coat off? It hindered her view of what lay beneath. She imagined his muscular arms around her, caging her to a wall as he pressed up against her, kissing her deeply then turning his mouth to her neck. She would pull his shirt from his belt and hastily unbutton it, pressing her lips to his when he lifted his head. She would then work on his belt to free his manhood from the confines of his trousers and squeeze his tight ass as she ripped his boxers from his legs. She imagined herself dropping before him and licking- Oh GOD! Could he hear her thoughts? Like in the show? Oh, Fuck! What had she done!

Her face turned a bright red as he watched her. Perhaps he was staring too much. He refocused his attention to the tv show. He wasn’t interested in it at all. What he really wanted to do was snuggle into her. To bathe in that warmth she had so freely given him on the street. To indulge in the scent of her and, if she’d allow it, to taste her wine soaked kiss.

“Mama?” A small voice from the bedroom roused both of them from their thoughts. Allanah left to check on her daughter while Castiel downed the half glass of wine he had left. Returning with Emma in tow, Emma ran to Castiel and jumped up on his lap while Allanah went to the kitchen to get Emma’s sippy cup. Emma started playing with Cas’ face, which he, surpringly, let her. He held her loosely to keep her from falling and smiled contentedly at her. Emma giggled and smooshed his cheeks together giving him “fish lips” and giggling louder when he moved them as such. She pulled at his ear as she readjusted herself on his lap, when he pulled away she reached for his nose instead. Again he pulled away but still smiled. She bopped him on the nose and he acted as though she had given him a knockout punch, throwing his head back and crying out in pain. Then he looked back at her and smiled. She did it again, and he again obliged.

Allanah returned having watched their game from the kitchen, “Emma, be nice,” a motherly tone in her voice. Emma giggled before taking the sippy cup and settling herself into Castiel’s lap, laying her head on his chest. If Allanah was ever jealous of her daughter this was it. Being a child, Emma could do things like climb into strangers laps and no one would bat an eye, but if Allanah did that she was sure to get some strange looks. “The innocence of youth...” she thought.

Allanah reached for Emma, “Sorry about that. C’mon Em.”

Emma moaned her disapproval, digging herself farther into Cas’ embrace, throwing her small arms around his chest and burying her face away from her mother.

“It’s okay,” Castiel stopped Allanah’s attempts to collect Emma. He folded his arms around her, cradling her to him.

Now Allanah really was jealous. But instead of saying anything she simply pouted her lips, poured herself some more wine, and watched the tv.

Several hours passed with the three of them on the couch. Emma had fallen asleep in Cas’ lap but every time Allanah tried to remove her she would wake and make a fuss. Castiel did not complain, instead reassuring Allanah he enjoyed having the small life on his lap. Allanah herself had started to become sleepy and considered feigning nodding off on Cas’ inviting shoulder.

Suddenly Allanah’s phone started going off with messenger notifications. She went to the kitchen to retrieve it and see what was going on. Stevie was sending messages one after another.

Stevie: YOU GUYS!

Stevie: OMG

Stevie: YOU GUYS!!!

Stevie: HES REAL

Stevie: IM LOOKING RIGHT AT HIM!

Stevie: HES HERE IN MY HOUSE!!

Stevie: HES REAL

Stevie: YOU GUYS!!!!

Stevie: AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

Allanah was the first to respond.

Allanah: What do you mean? Who?

Stevie: CASTIEL! HE��S HERE IN MY KITCHEN!

Allanah: How

Stevie: Idk but he is! We just kissed!

Stevie: I thought he was a dream but

Stevie: HE’S FUCKING REAL!!!

Allanah typed back.

Allanah: I know he is. I’m looking at him right now.

Stevie: What?

Allanah: He is on my couch with Emma.

Allanah: How is he with you?

Stevie: There’s two of them?!

Before Allanah could respond Christina chimed in.

Christina: Make that three

[lets-steal-an-archive]

TVLine Fall TV Spoilers, retrospective edition (s8-s15)

Fall TV Spoiler Spectacular: Exclusive Scoop and Photos on 47 Returning Favorites! [September 06, 2012]

PREVIOUSLY ON… | After taking out Leviathan boss Dick Roman, Dean and Cas disappeared to a monster-filled purgatory while Sam was left on his own back on Earth. Ghost Bobby finally moved on to the other side.

COMING UP NEXT | Dean and Sam will reunite in the season premiere, but lots will have changed while they were separated. For one, after a “not very cute meet” with Amelia (recurring guest star Liane Balaban), Sam struck up a romance with the damaged woman during the Winchesters’ hiatus from each other, previews new showrunner Jeremy Carver. Dean’s side of the story will be told in flashbacks, which will answer the mystery of why Castiel vanished and how the elder brother got out of purgatory. Hint: He’s now indebted to the vamp Benny, “who is a super cool, super complex character who is a force to be reckoned with unto himself,” says Carver. “That is something that applies above ground and below ground.”

TVLINE BONUS SPOILER | Prepare for a major new recurring character in Naomi, who’s all business – complete with a serious pulled back hairdo – and very private. But underneath that no-nonsense suit exterior, she’s not quite so together.

Fall TV Spoiler Spectacular: Exclusive Scoop and Photos on 45 Returning Favorites! [September 03, 2013]

PREVIOUSLY ON… | Metatron expelled all the angels from Heaven and turned Castiel into a human. Sam continued his efforts to close the gates of Hell by curing Crowley, but Dean discovered that completing the trials would kill him, and begged his brother not to go through with it. Unfortunately, Sammy didn’t know how to stop what he started and collapsed in agony.

COMING UP NEXT | No surprise here: Sam survives. But why he does is a secret that the elder Winchester will hold on to — and one which may cause a rift between the brothers. “You’re going to find Dean, in the beginning of this season, in a slightly different position, one where it’s his decision driving great importance and weight on their relationship,” previews executive producer Jeremy Carver. “It’s a heavy weight to bear, and it has a great effect on their relationship.” There’s also angel mayhem on Earth for the brothers to contend with, including “a lot of players for the throne of who’s going to rise to the fore here,” including Battlestar Galactica alum Tahmoh Penikett’s injured warrior angel. Cas, meanwhile, is adjusting to life as a human by “eating, defecating and fornicating,” deadpans his portrayer Misha Collins. On the more quirky side, Felicia Day’s Charlie returns in Episode 4, which goes back in time to reveal “the first Men of Letters ever to occupy the bunker,” teases Carver. So what were they up to? You know, the usual — like “learning the truth behind the events that lead to The Wizard of Oz books. It’s a lot of fun and heartfelt.”

TVLINE BONUS SPOILER | Penikett’s Ezekiel isn’t the only heavenly creature we’ll be meeting. “We’re really delving into the individual characters here, and we found really interesting, really neat angels,” says Carver. “Wherever we can dive into Biblical references, we do and then we turn that the way that we need. Some of the angels that we see…have deep roots in angel mythology.”

Fall TV Spoilers 2014: Exclusive Scoops On 42 Season Premieres [September 02, 2014]

As a newly turned supernatural creature, Dean will have to decide “how dark and what kind of demon he’s going to be,” executive producer Jeremy Carver previews. So what’s the verdict? Per star Jensen Ackles, “[He’s] an ultra version of a womanizing party animal.” Considering how wild and fun his new life is – he even becomes too much for Crowley to handle! – it’s no wonder then that Dean doesn’t want to be found. But Sam, unaware of what’s happened to his brother, will try his darnedest, leading the younger Winchester “to do some questionable things that will make him, and certainly the audience, wonder which one of these guys is the true monster,” Carver notes. Meanwhile, Castiel is back on Earth and struggling with the moral dilemma of how to get his angelic grace back without being a burden.

BONUS SPOILER | Cas will be the harsh “voice of reason” when it comes to Dean’s situation, says Ackles. “Even though it might be hard to hear, it might be hard to say, he tells Sam, ‘Listen, you know what you have to do if things don’t go right.’”

Fall TV Spoilers 2015: Exclusive Scoop On 44 Season Premieres [September 08, 2015]

The Winchesters will need all the help they can get battling The Darkness, which brings us to Season 11’s theme: “You can’t outrun your past.” Dean and Sam “have to make some unexpected and unholy alliances involving folks from their past, which will have personal ramifications,” exec producer Jeremy Carver reveals. Will any of said people be fan faves who died? “We’re talking about a fight that is going to incorporate the likes of Heaven and Hell and those on Earth. So there’s certainly opportunity to see folks that have departed,” the EP replies. Perhaps one of them can provide some answers, because “there’s a lot of mystery to not only what or who The Darkness is” – maybe it’s a she? – “but what The Darkness wants,” Carver says. And while Castiel will be working alongside the brothers, he first needs to “find a way out of this spell that Rowena has cast.”

BONUS SPOILER!: Praise be! “We’re going to see more of a vintage Crowley in terms of scheming, less caring about Dean and Sam,” Carver shares.)

Fall TV Spoilers 2016: Exclusive Scoop On 42 Season Premieres [September 07, 2016]

“Dean, Mary and Cas are on the ‘Save Sam train,’ and that really drives them for the first three episodes,” executive producer Andrew Dabb previews. Once reunited, the Winchesters find themselves “pulled in two different directions” thanks to the dual threat of the British Men of Letters and Lucifer, who has taken on the vessel of a down-on-his-luck rock star (Rick Springfield). Everyone wants a piece of the fallen angel, including Crowley, who is looking to reclaim Hell and get payback for being humiliated. Lady Toni’s brethren, however, may turn out to be occasional allies in addition to stirring up trouble. “Sometimes, Sam and Dean will be working with them. Sometimes, they’ll be working against them,” Dabb hints. Meanwhile, the miraculous return of Mama Winchester has the brothers feeling “happy and conflicted” as she adjusts to a world that includes modern technology and angels. Speaking of heavenly creatures: Season 12 will spin “more personal” Cas stories and dig into his past a bit.

BONUS SPOILER!: “We’re putting the focus more on the world of hunters, so some of our past fan favorite hunters will, hopefully, swing through the show,” Dabb teases.

Fall TV Spoilers 2017: Scoop on 35+ Returning Favorites [September 07, 2017]

Cutting to the chase, “death is not the end for Castiel,” executive producer Andrew Dabb reports. “That being said, when we pick up our season he’s more dead than people usually get on our show. Castiel has a big role to play for us, but that may not be as soon as some people are hoping.” Meanwhile, the Winchester brothers, Dean especially, are reeling from the double whammy of losing their friend and their mom Mary. “There’s no one they can call,” Dabb notes, “so our guys are a bit on their own, a little spun out, both emotionally and in terms of the plot.” On top of that, they’re “acting as parents” to Lucifer’s “walking atomic bomb” offspring. “There are parts of him and things he does that they really love,” Dabb shares, “and there are parts of him and things he does that worry them a bit.” In the alt apocalypse world, Mary���s attempt to run away from Lucifer doesn’t go as well as she had hoped, while the fallen archangel finds that he “may not be the most powerful” creature over there.

BONUS SPOILER!: “Even if it’s not played by an actor that we recognize, there are certain characters that are going to come back in different bodies,” Dabb hints.

Fall TV Spoilers 2018: Scoop on 40 Returning Favorites [September 05, 2018]

Michael still wants to purify the world, but now that he’s loose on our earth — in Dean’s body, no less! — “his method is going to change,” executive producer Andrew Dabb previews. Back at the bunker, little bro Sam and heavenly pal Castiel are “extremely driven to find Dean,” with the latter even seeking help from “certain people, possibly with black eyes, who he would not normally contact.” Despite their efforts, “Sam, ultimately, and even Cas, to a degree, are a little pessimistic,” the EP says. “They’re not sure if it’s going to work out.” The Winchesters’ mom, Mary, however, “is optimistic, but sometimes that optimism can be very annoying.” Meanwhile, powerless Jack is back to hunter basics, “learning how to throw a punch [and] decapitate a vampire,” with the help of Bobby. Up in Heaven, Naomi and the few remaining angels are “trying to hold everything together.” As for the dark side, “we’re going to get a really good preview of what’s going on in Hell, actually, in the first episode,” Dabb teases.

BONUS SPOILER!: In Episode 4, “Sam and Dean and our whole crew get involved in our homage to ’80s slasher movies,” Dabb shares. “We’ve got some really cool gory stuff planned for that.”

Fall TV Preview 2019: Spoilers on 37 Returning Favorites [September 4 2019]

After finding out that God has been manipulating them, Dean and Sam are facing an “existential crisis” in the 15th and final season. “They’re realizing, ‘Well, we’re the Winchesters, but were we really doing this Chuck’s way?'” co-showrunner Andrew Dabb previews. “Part of reclaiming that agency is a big part of the season for them.” Plus, the brothers are “going to start to lose people who, in past seasons, we would’ve never lost — and lose them in a very real way. Our guys are going to realize there’s a certain finality, and some of the things they’ve relied on to get through the day — people, talents, things like that — they are no longer going to be able to roll out. And that’s going to throw them for a loop.” The show’s swan song will also welcome back some departed faces, including the Winchesters’ half-brother Adam (Jake Abel), God’s sister Amara (Emily Swallow) and deceased hunter Eileen (Shoshannah Stern).

BONUS SPOILER!: Jack is still in The Empty when Season 15 starts, and “he’s not coming back in the near future,” Dabb reveals. As for the deal Cas made to save Lucifer’s offspring, “when The Empty becomes more active, a lot of things are going to come to a head.”

[d-s-winchester]

Salem

(gif credit to the creator)

Part Six

Master List

Pairing: Misha x OFC Word Count: 1,936 Warnings: None? Language probably A/N: Part six is here ladies and gents! Thank you all so much for your support on this! I know it’s been almost a year since I’ve posted any writing but I thought coming back with one of my favorite fics on the first day of my favorite month of the year would be the best way to do it! As always a HUGE thank you to Nicole (aka @iwantthedean) for betaing this for me, without her this story would never see the light of day. Anyway, feedback for this is awesome! :)

Misha didn’t broach the subject of anything personal with Ophelia over the next few days, even though he desperately wanted to. While he stuck to the subject of his research for the novel and avoided the subject of her personal life, he could see her distancing further and further from him as the days passed. He did receive a respite from his concerns when she invited him over for dinner a few days after she had told him about seeing Christopher, and how her boyfriend had died.

He sat at the island counter in Ophelia’s kitchen, thumbing through the books she had given him to aid his research, but not concentrating much on the content. His mind was dwelling on something in particular, but as he feared that thing could scare Ophelia off, Misha kept his thoughts to himself all through dinner.

“You okay?” Ophelia asked as she cleared the dinner table.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem...distant. I don’t know.” She shrugged, taking the stack of plates to the sink.

Misha nodded, though he knew that didn’t really answer her original inquiry. He helped her clear away the rest of the plates and dishes from the dinner table, then waited patiently while she packaged away the leftovers before joining him at the sink. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes while she washed, and Misha dried. Finally, when Misha’s thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone, he broke the silence.

“How would you feel about having dinner with me?” Misha blurted out, sticking a plate in the drying rack.

“We just had dinner,” Ophelia pointed out, frowning.

“No,” Misha chuckled, “I know we did. I mean, not here. Not tonight. At a restaurant or something, on a different night.”

Ophelia was so shocked she fumbled with the plate she was washing, nearly dropping it to the floor. Placing it safely in the sink, Ophelia turned to face him, leaning her elbow on the counter.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Misha Collins?”

“I am,” he smiled.

Ophelia smiled, picked up the plate again, and continued washing it. Though she knew what she wanted to answer, she figured there was no harm done in letting him sweat it out a little while she pretended to think it over.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she finally said, handing him the freshly washed plate.

“Perfect,” he grinned. Relief flooded both his voice and his features. “How does tomorrow night sound?”

“I think I can make that work.”

They finalized the details of their date as they finished up the dishes; once the kitchen was cleaned up, Misha was able to concentrate on his research. After they both wrapped up a few hours of reading, Ophelia walked him to the door. Misha promised to pick her up promptly at eight o’clock the next evening, then went on his way. He smiled all the way back to the bed and breakfast.

***

Ophelia closed the shop early the next night so she would have plenty of time to prepare for her date with Misha. As she tore through her closet, looking for something to wear, Christine sat on her bed flipping through a magazine. Their quarrel from the day before seemed to have been forgotten, and Ophelia thought that Christine had even accepted that Misha was interested in Ophelia and not Christine.

“How about this?” Ophelia asked, coming out of her walk-in closet in a skin tight black dress.

“Dude, no,” Christine laughed, “you look like a sausage wrapped in cheap lingerie.”

“I should probably just throw this dress out then?” Ophelia chuckled. “I’ve had this since junior year of high school.”

“Yeah, back when you had a body to accommodate it,” Christine pointed out. “You’re thinner than my pinky but you’ve gained some weight since then. Toss it.”

Ophelia nodded and tossed the dress to the side before going back to her closet. A few minutes later she came back out in an empire waist dress made of white lace. The second Christine looked up from the magazine, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“Lia, yes. You look amazing,” she said, forgetting the magazine and sitting up to face her friend. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear white before. It works for you. You should wear white all the time!”

“You have too seen me in white,” Ophelia laughed. “Senior prom, remember? But are you sure this looks okay? I mean, is it too far out of my comfort zone?”

“Well, tonight is about throwing caution to the wind, right?” Christine asked; Ophelia nodded. “Then I say go for it. Do some simple makeup instead of your usual smoky look, throw on a splash of color with some cute heels, and you’ll be set.”

Ophelia grinned at Christine and clapped her hands in excitement before sitting down at her vanity. While she worked on a makeup look that was natural but didn’t lose the essence of her personality, Christine worked on curling Ophelia’s hair in perfectly tousled waves. At eight o’clock sharp, Ophelia’s doorbell rang. Christine misted her friend’s curls with hairspray one last time.

“You sure I look okay?” Ophelia asked again as she slipped her feet into a pair of bright turquoise pumps.

“You look stunning,” Christine assured her. “Don’t forget to grab that gray sweater, it’s cold out and you’re gonna be sitting outside. Don’t worry, I’ll lock up when I leave.”

“Thank you,” Ophelia grinned, kissing her friend on the cheek, “you’re the best.”

“I try,” Christine giggled as she pushed Ophelia towards the door. “Now, go, have fun! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Ophelia laughed and waved goodbye to her friend as she made her way down the stairs to meet Misha at the door.

***

When Christine finally arrived at home she was anxiously awaiting the opportunity to have a glass of wine, watch a movie, and head to bed. That was all derailed, however, when she saw Christopher pacing back and forth in her living room.

“I can’t believe you’re letting her go through with this!”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Christine said, dropping her purse on the table near the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at her brother’s angry greeting.

“You can’t let her get close to him, Chrissy,” Christopher groaned. “How am I ever supposed to get her back if she’s off galavanting with that writer!”

Christopher couldn’t even bring himself to say Misha’s name, and Christine felt bad about the distress Ophelia’s potential new relationship had caused for her brother.

“You need to fix it,” Christopher pleaded. “Ruin their night. I don’t care what you do, but make it so they never want to see each other again.”

“Chris --”

“No, Chrissy,” Christopher argued, “you have to fix it.”

Christine thought for a minute before letting out a sigh and running her fingers through her hair.  “Okay, fine. I don’t like it, but I’m sure there’s something I can do.”

“Thank you!”

Christine assured him that it was no problem and made her way up to her bedroom to search through the grimoire. She knew that Ophelia and Misha would be dining outside, and the best thing she could come up with was making it rain. Though she had an obligation to her brother to try something, Christine genuine didn’t want to ruin Ophelia’s night. The rain wouldn’t force the night to end, but it would move the date inside. Deciding that was a happy medium, Christine cast the spell.

***

As soon as Ophelia and Misha were seated at their table, the clouds poured their contents out onto the town. The rain soaked their hair and clothes as they ran back inside the restaurant; all of Christine’s work on Ophelia’s curls was now in vain. Misha asked for a table inside, but the hostess apologized that all the indoor tables were booked. Determined to make the night work, Misha thanked her. Once safely back in his car, Ophelia pointed him in the direction of another restaurant not too far away.

When they arrived, they were seated quickly and looked over the menus, deciding what they wanted to eat. After placing their order and receiving their drinks, Misha smiled at Ophelia, letting out a relieved breath that they were finally settled on their date.

“You look amazing,” he stated, “white is a good color for you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, blushing slightly, “you don’t look so bad yourself. That shirt really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

“Really?” he chuckled, “I just threw it together. Wasn’t expecting to go on any dates while I’m here.”

“Well, it works.”

It wasn’t long before their food was brought out. Despite their evenings spent together at her house, Ophelia had found herself concerned that their conversation would only revolve around the bookstore and witchcraft lore, but she was pleasantly surprised that the conversation seemed to cover anything but. She was so distracted by the conversation that it wasn’t long after their food was brought to the table when she spilled her red wine on her stark white dress. Misha practically leapt over the table to help her clean it up, but she assured him it would be fine. The dry cleaner could get the stain out.

They made it through dinner without any more mishaps and, deciding not to chance their bad luck, Misha drove Ophelia home. They didn’t have to call it a night, but maybe it was better to be home. Halfway to her house, the car seemed jolted violently; Misha pulled off to the side of the road. Ophelia sat in the passenger seat patiently as he assessed the situation.

“I’ve got a flat,” he explained, opening the driver side door, “give me a minute and we’ll be ready to go.”

“Need help?”

“You know how to change a flat?”

“I’m a woman, I’m not useless,” she laughed.

“Then yes, I would love your help,” he grinned.

It took them almost half an hour to change the tire in the pouring rain, but once it was fixed, they made it safely back to Ophelia’s house. Misha parked his car in front of the modest-sized Cape Cod and got out, opening the car door for her. Rain pounded the ground around them as they made way up to her front steps.

“So, this date turned out to be somewhat of a disaster. I apologize,” Misha laughed.

“Don’t,” Ophelia chuckled, “it was perfect.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Am I … crossing boundaries here?”

“You’re not,” she assured him, wrapping her arms around his neck in return. “Despite the rain, wine spil,l and flat tire, I had a wonderful time tonight, Misha. Really”

“Me too,” he agreed.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers as the rain continued to fall around them. When they finally broke apart, Ophelia smiled up at him.

“We should do this again.”

“Absolutely,” Misha grinned.

“I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow?” she asked, hope edging each syllable.

“Definitely.”

Ophelia took a chance and pushed herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She smiled as she pulled away. “I’ll see you at the shop tomorrow. Thank you again, Misha, for an amazing night.”

“Anytime,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her again. He couldn’t get enough.

He watched her walk into the house, giving her a small wave as she walked inside, then walked back to his car, hoping for an uneventful drive back to the bed and breakfast.  

[au-universes]

The Final Chapter

By Luci

July 9, 2015: The First Day of Comic Con

Exactly 4 months since Steve disappeared in the Real Life AU

Exactly 1 month since Steve had died

Steve felt wrong.

He remembered everything. Every portal, every almost-death, every moment with his soulmate, Jimmy. And now, here he was, in a car on his way to Comic Con with the seven people who had been there that day, all of them claiming to have no memory of Captain Kirk kidnapping Steve during dance class.

Steve had asked them all together and individually about that day. Kara said all she remembered was Steve prepping for a left turn then going right. Ashley said Steve left in the middle of class then stopped showing up. Paris said she forgot who he was until he appeared a few months ago in their basement, crying and claiming he had died.

To be honest, Steve wasn’t sure why they kept him around after that. Gacé said the same.

It had been a month since that incident. It also happened to be the day of the Rhythm Fusion’s dance show. When all the RFs - Ashley, Paris, Gacé, Kara, Matt, Kaia, and Colleen - had come back to the studio after the show, they found Steve sobbing in the basement. They were all dumbfounded, and Mozy had called the cops. In the end, Officers McCain and Malfoy chalked it up to Steve had been kidnapped and escaped and now he was home. 

Steve went along with it, not knowing what else to do.

He had tried to explain what he had been through to the officers, but they told him he was in shock. Steve knew he was in shock, but he also knew what had happened to him.

He traveled through alternate universes with Jimmy Kirk, his one true love, because of a curse placed on them by the wizard Sarumon.

Now, Steve sat, numb as always, in the passenger’s seat of a van, reluctantly going to Comic Con with the RFs. Gacé was driving and Paris, dressed as Honey Lemon from Big Hero 6, was reading out loud from an article that was sweeping the internet.

“Love is in the air this July as a fourth surprise celebrity couple announces their engagement.

“It started on June 9th, when Daniel Radcliffe, best known for playing Harry Potter, and Supernatural’s Osric Chau announced their engagement.

“‘We had been dating for years in secret,’ said Radcliffe. ‘Something just felt right, and we wanted the world to know about our love.’

“They were the first of many. Next, Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins, also from Supernatural, announced they were together. Their costar, Jared Padalecki, got engaged to his long-time girlfriend Ezri Guide, shortly after that.

“‘I am so happy for Ezri and Jared,’ said Ackles on Twitter. ‘I can’t think of a better couple.’

“Most recently, Felicia Day, known for playing Charlie on Supernatural, and Liv Tyler, Arwen from the Lord of the Rings, announced their engagement.

“With all these happy couples making their way into the spotlight, we at Sixteen Magazine want to know: who’s next?”

“Wow,” said Kara, crammed in the back with Colleen, Kaia, and Matt. “I feel like this is out of a fanfiction!”

“But it’s all true!” said Paris. “It’s hard, almost impossible to believe, and yet…”

Steve stopped listening. He knew it was all true, but he was closer to the situation than everyone would believe. He was happy the friends he made in the AUs were happy, but nothing felt the same. He couldn’t even be sure they were the same people, but this was too close to be a coincidence.

The last place Steve wanted to go was Comic Con, where the actors who portrayed some of his closest friends would be. It would be too painful. Yet he knew the RFs would drag him to see the Supernatural cast, just like they dragged him out of his room to go to the event in the first place. This was 2015, afterall, and the RFs were still big fans of Supernatural.

Steve tried to tune out their excited chatter and pay attention to the radio. Stay With Me by Sam Smith was playing. Tears welled in Steve’s eyes. This was their song…

“This song sucks!” said Kara. “Pass me the aux.”

She plugged her iPhone 5 in, not needing an adaptor or anything, and played Basketball by Kurtis Blow. Steve took deep breaths, calming himself down. As Kurtis Blow sang, the convention center came into view. Gacé parked the car, and they all piled out. Everyone was dressed up for the occasion. Well, everyone but Steve, who had decided to wear his okayest pajama pants and a Homestuck t-shirt, which he figured would allow him to blend in. Matt was dressed as Dean Winchester and Gacé was Sam. Kara, Kaia, and Paris were characters from Big Hero 6. Colleen was dressed as the Zebra Goddess, who she claimed was from a really popular movie, yet no one knew what she was talking about. Ashley was supposed to be Anastasia Steele from 50 Shades of Grey, but to Steve she looked like she was just wearing regular clothes.

“Alright RFs, who’s ready to do this!” Ashley said.

The gang cheered and followed her to the doors of the convention center.

Steve stayed back for a moment, looking around at all the people streaming into the building.

“Feeling overwhelmed?” Paris asked.

Steve took a deep breath. “Yeah. This is the first big thing I’ve done since…” he didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

“If it’s too much we’ll leave,” Paris said, looking like that’s not what she wanted to do at all.

“No, I’ll be okay. Let’s do this.”

The gang walked around for a while, seeing as many booths as possible and doing the things people do at Comic Con.

About an hour in, and Steve was feeling good. He bought himself a new Steven Universe shirt and a churro. The gang was rounding a corner when Steve saw him, and his heart stopped.

There, at the Sharknado 2 booth, was Billy Ray Cyrus.

Steve knew this wasn’t his Billy Ray. It couldn’t possibly be. But everything about the man was familiar. From the way he stood to the way he was laughing at something his costar, Kelly Osborn, said.

Steve didn’t know what came over him. He dropped his churro and ran right at Billy Ray. He could hear the RFs yelling after him, but he didn’t care. He had to know.

Suddenly, Steve was grabbed by two beefy security guards. He tried to get past them, but they were too beefy. So he did the only thing he could.

“Billy Ray! Billy Ray Cyrus!” he yelled in desperation. “Please, do you remember me?”

Billy Ray looked up, and right into Steve’s eyes. Steve would never forget the next words Billy Ray spoke.

“Sorry partner, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Steve stopped fighting and the guards dragged him out of the room.

“This is embarrassing,” Matt muttered as the RFs followed the guards to where Steve was being held.

They were told that Steve was to sit in Comic Con jail for the rest of the evening and they could come pick him up when the convention closed. They were now on their way to get him.

“We never even got to go to the Star Trek booth,” Paris said sassily.

“That might have been too much for Steve,” Ashley said. They all vaguely knew what Steve had told the police when he returned, and they all avoided the subject of Star Trek as much as possible. 

“At least we got that picture with Jared and Jensen!” said Gacé.

“Whatever, let’s just get Steve and go,” said Colleen. “I need me a fry pile.”

The gang nodded in agreement.

The convention hall was pretty clear, so they didn’t think they would have a problem getting Steve out safely.

No one said anything as Steve emerged from the room he was being kept in. 

“Sorry guys,” Steve said, not meeting any of their eyes.

“It’s fine, let’s just get out of here,” said Kara.

As they walked through the convention center, no one said anything. Nearly every booth was empty. Except one.

The Star Trek booth.

“Oh no,” someone said, as Steve stared at him.

It wasn’t Jimmy, not his Jimmy. But Zebra Goddess, did it look like him.

There stood William Shatner, talking to Walter Koenig, who played Chekov. Several other cast members from the original series stood around, listening to something Walter was playing on his iPod.

“It’s not that bad!” said Willy Shatz, laughing.

“Oh yes it is!” said Nichelle Nichols, or as Steve had known her, Uhura.

Steve listened closer and realized they were listening to William Shatner’s cover of Bohemian Rhapsody. 

“Come on,” said Paris, grabbing Steve’s arm and trying to stop him from gawking.

William Shatner seemed to notice the commotion. He looked up from his conversation and at Steve. There was something familiar in his eyes, something Steve recognized.

Could it be…?

William Shatner broke away from the crowd as the music swelled and made his way over to the RFs. Steve was frozen in shock.

“We have to get him out of here,” said Ashley, pushing Steve from the opposite side Paris was pulling.

Gacé was preparing to pick Steve up and carry him out of the convention center to avoid what would inevitably be a disaster. 

Kara stepped in front of Steve. “S- sorry, Mr. Shatner, we were just leaving,” Kara said.

William Shatner pushed past her and walked up to Steve. Paris, Ashley, and Gacé backed off.

“Have we met?” said William Shatner. “You look very familiar.”

“I - I don’t believe so, no,” said Steve, looking down at his ratty shoes.

From across the room, Walter yelled. “Oh, what the hell?” He was fiddling with his iPod. Bohemian Rhapsody cut off and Cherry Pie started playing. 

“Yes,” said William Shatner, smiling, ignoring his friend. “I know you.”

He took a step back and the music grew louder. A yellow light appeared from his chest and he was lifted into the air. He started spinning, the light growing stronger and rainbow sparkles emerging. He was going through a magical girl transformation!

He landed on the ground, kneeling, head down. When he looked up he was no longer William Shatner. He stood, and before Steve was Jimmy Kirk. His Jimmy Kirk. In full Star Trek uniform, looking as young as he had on the show.

“I’ve waited years for a love like you,” said Jimmy, smiling. “Did you really think I’d give up so easily?”

Steve and Jimmy embraced and kissed. The gang and the cast of the original series had no choice but to stare, confused.

“Jimmy,” said Steve breathlessly. “I knew you were real.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he took his communicator out of his pocket. “Scotty, beam us up.” He took Steve’s hand.

“Will, that’s just a prop,” said Walter.

Jimmy ignored him. One final portal appeared before Steve.

“I made this last universe just for us,” said Jimmy. “Ready to go, Cherry Pie?”

Steve looked into his lover’s eyes and smiled. “I’m ready.”

Together, they walked through the portal and into the rest of their lives.

[alittlefrenchtree]

Armie Hammer & Fans

Working title was : Why I think Armie doesn’t love his fans and why I’m okay with that but I figure I didn’t need to be that provocative. And, when I say doesn’t love, I don’t actually mean hate or despite, only that I think he hasn’t any particular huge feelings towards fans of his — so not point of using the first title.

Here is why.

PART I -- YOU CAN’T UNDERSTAND FANS UNLESS YOU ARE ONE YOURSELF

Every time I become fan of someone (it has happened quite a few times over the past 25 last years), I’m always interested to see if they are fans themselves or not. And I’m not talking about fans like ‘I-love-this-movie-so-much-I-saw-it-three-times’, I’m talking about crazy-over-the-top-freaks who knows everything about everything, spent thousand of hours talking about everything, create, wait hours on a red carpet, travel hundreds of miles, turned fandom-mutuals into lifetime friends… like most us down here. My opinion is that you can’t understand how important it feels unless you’ve been here yourself because I don’t think anybody (and certainly not self-deprecating Armie) is full of himself enough to really understand what it means and what they represent for fans. And why is it important ? Because it highlights behavior in different ways. (side note : parallels with Timmy aren’t for saying who’s better than who between but because they’re radically different on that level and I know everybody knows what I’m talking about when I take Timmy as an example). My point is, when Timmy saw people waiting and freezing on a red carpet or stan accounts on social media, he knows who much even the smallest gestures can meant for people on the other side, because he has been (still is on some levels) there. Armie hadn’t. He doesn’t even understand why people are happy to take a selfie with him if it the only thing they get. I don’t think he realize how much difference in people happiness he makes when he’s giving and when he’s not.

PART II -- BACKGROUND

I haven’t real proofs for what I’m going to say in this part but I do think the more wealthy you are, the less chances you have to become a fan yourself or to understand the phenomenon. I guess having money take a little bit of the fascination for rich, famous people away — but mostly because you evolve on the same circles. Armie being a Hammer, I guess he has occasionally see and hear about « famous » people (in various areas) while growing up (and during his whole life), preventing him again for fully understanding that kind of relationship between known people and fans. I don’t think you can become fan of someone you already know. And, while he certainly haven’t met every artist he admires yet, I think he has quite early in his life seen and been around enough to not idealize/idolize people or understand how people could do that and, on the contrary, be quite suspicious about them.

PART III -- THE TRUST ISSUE

Again, no proofs, just theories based on what makes sense to me. Given the shape of his career (and his general personality/ lack of self esteem), I think he may have trust issue towards fans. He said it himself, there were several times during his career where people has said to him « this is your moment, this is your time ». I guess fans had told him, after The Social Network, before Lone Ranger or before Man From Uncle, that they loved him and his work and were fan of his. I’m not saying they were lying or that he thinks they were lying. I’m only saying that, if he had sometimes considered fans as a whole instead of as many individualities, he may has thought, at these particular times of his career, that fans (in general) had let him down. I’m not blaming anybody on box-office flops I’m just trying to explain what it may feels like to be a lead or one of the leads and see that kind of situation happened in more than one occasion. Again, I’m not saying that Armie is resentful towards fans because of that. If it’s true, maybe he isn’t even aware of these feels. But I think because he feels like he can’t trust people as audience and support, he may have shift his priorities and his focus and what he thinks is important. Maybe he doesn’t really feel like investing himself for people who may come and go in the blink of a eye.

PART IV -- « I DON’T THINK HE’S ARROGANT. I THINK HE’S SHY. » (thanks Papa for the quote)

Here, in France, we have a singer called Emmanuel Moire. I’m not a fan of his but I listen to a few of his interviews (because he’s very sweet and his story is very sad) and I remember him saying that, before coming-out to his fans, he didn’t feel like he was really connecting with them (and certainly not like he’s doing it now, after the coming-out). DON’T YELL AT ME, this isn’t me saying that Armie’s gay (my vision of sexuality is not trivial enough to be explain with labels). My point is, when you aren’t fully true to yourself or when you’re hiding, it’s harder to connect with people, especially with people who love you. It’s harder to accept love when you don’t love yourself in the first place. Why am I saying that Armie isn’t fully true to himself ? Because Armie said it himself.

I’ve had conversations before with Guadagnino where he discusses actors, and it’s uncanny how well he can zero in on the locus of a star’s appeal, laying bare what makes that actor tick. It’s more than just a party trick: Guadagnino is simply that good at reading people. I wondered, then, if he had ever analyzed Hammer to his face. “I think he knows that if he would describe me to me, it would crush me,” Hammer said with a laugh. “He’s never even tried, and I’m so appreciative.” [Source]

 PART V -- A RELATIONSHIP THAT NEEDS TO GROW

…and to grow under the right circumstances.

We know Armie basically hates everything that is linked to being famous. He doesn’t particularly enjoy doing promo. He doesn’t like having to do fittings for new clothes every 3 seconds (the guy own 1 suit, 1 pair of new balance and two sweaters, after all), he doesn’t like awards shows or selfies and his love-hate relationship with social media isn’t really helping either. I don’t know where exactly he puts fans in all of that but I think that, as much as he enjoys the recognition and knowing people enjoy his work, the concept itself of having fans as he probably sees it, isn’t something he digs very much. But relationships between artists and fans aren’t things set in stone. Like any relationship, they need to grow and to be built. Best example I’ve got here, is Jensen Ackles. When Jensen has started to do fan cons, he was so shy and uncomfortable with the whole thing but, through the course of the years, he learned a lot (partly thanks to Jared Padalecki first and then Misha Collins, so I’m kinda hoping Timmy will do the same with him during sequel time) by meeting people, sitting with them and hearing their personal stories. And now he’s a master at fan cons. I think Armie would enjoy meeting fans if he wasn’t meeting them as fans but as people. Having a chat, grabbing a beer. Exactly like he said in that GQ interview. And maybe it’s the only point for which I think he could do better if he’s willing to. Because first, he needs to understand that (even he can’t wrap his mind around it) it’s fucking terrifying and mind blowing for fans to meet him and that if some encounters are a little bit awkward, it’s because most fans try to be quick and not bother people too much when they’re meeting someone famous. Second, because he’s also up to him to create the good opportunities for these kind of moments. Like that plane girl with Timmy. I would love for Armie to have something like that (minus the full report on twitter and the headlines would have shadow the whole experience for him (maybe for Timmy too)). Maybe not in economic, because, well, he’s Armie Hammer, but something like that nevertheless. It probably won’t happen anytime soon, because of everything I just wrote but I think it would be good for him. And he has time.

Ok, now I’m dead on my feet so I don’t even know if any of this is making any sense. I’m crossing fingers. I’ve probably forgotten a lot of important stuff so expect a lot of yelling from me to me and a lot of reblogs to add things in the next few days. If I’ve been unclear with something, please let me know ;-).

[wildefiction]

Of Course...Mr. Collins

PAIRING: Misha x Reader x Vicki

WORD COUNT: 1,860

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Vicki welcomes reader to the family

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Kissing, Slight voyeurism, three-some, polyamory, oral sex (male and female receiving), sex, cuddling, swearing.

A/N: This chapter was created for @spnkinkbingo. 

         Check out my 2019 Bingo Card

SQUARE FILLED: FREE SPACE

TWENTY-FIVE

Swallowing quickly, Misha had the foresight to know better than correct his wife in such a situation. She made him wait for thirty agonizing seconds before relenting and uncrossing her arms to reach for his hand.

[Y/F/N] approached Vicki from behind with a confidence he’d not witnessed previously. Snaking one arm around her midsection, she pulled his wife's back against the swell of her chest. While still wrapped in the towel she'd used after showering, the thick material had begun to loosen, slipping haphazardly as she lowered her mouth to the crook of Vicki’s neck, [Y/E/C]eyes turned challengingly up towards him; daring the man to steal her prize.

Misha wouldn't have dreamt of it, and, as Vicki pulled him to the corner of their room and pointed to the winged recliners flanking the large picture windows, he happily sat back, his focus trained on the two women before him.

[Y/F/N]’s towel never stood a chance, the plush terry-cloth dropped from her waist when the back of her knees collided with the massive, king-sized mattress flanking what seemed to be an entire wall of the impressive master bedroom. Deep pine green sheets stretched across the surface, and your skin trembled at the loss of the covering, though whether it was due to the chill of the linens or the desire racing through your blood wasn't clear. Vicki hovered at the end of the mattress for the briefest moment before her weight dipped into its surface and she crawled towards you, the look in her eyes predatory.

A rush of breath parted Misha's pale lips as he watched his wife seduce [Y/F/N]. She was deliberate in her mission, and, judging by her posture - she was maintaining serious eye contact. Lowering her own ample chest to the bed, Vicki's ass rose into the air, her hips languidly drifting side to side as she slid firm hands around [Y/F/N]’s legs, lifting them to rest over her shoulders while lowering her mouth to the soft skin of her inner thighs; ghost-like kisses spreading their warmth as [Y/F/N]’s breath caught in her throat, the steady thrum of her heart increasing its tempo.

You concentrated on every touch, every brush of skin sending a shower of sparks through your limbs. Closing your eyes as the rhythm of your heart shifted, a sudden sharp cry of pleasure was truncated by your own hand when Vicki’s tongue flattened and licked a hot line between your legs. Nudging her nose through your folds she made quick work of sealing her lips around your clit, her tongue darting over the already sensitive bundle of nerves while her nails danced lazily across your stomach.

Watching Vicki eat at [Y/F/N]’s core tested Misha's patience. His cock now straining against the cotton of his pajama pants, he hastily shoved his fingers beneath the band, wrapping them around his shaft and lazily stroking his length to try and give himself some relief.

“FUCK!” The loud cry from across the room made him groan as his eyes snapped to the women spread across his bed. The bed he had built with his own hands so many years ago. Never had he imagined that it would one day be cradling two beautiful women as they pleasured each other. It was then that something snapped in Misha, and he rose from the cushion, crossing the room in several strides; quickly shedding the confining pants that stretched across his erection.

Pulling his wife from between your legs, Misha’s mouth descended on hers, effortlessly lifting her small frame and wrapping her legs around his trim waist.  The loss of contact made you tremble and a low whine escaped your lips. Scrambling to your knees, you lost no time in reaching for the thick cock that brushed his belly. The flushed skin around his head wept as your lips secured themselves around his girth, your tongue darting out to lap the tangy pre-cum from his skin. Misha's eyes sizzled with intensity as they flicked to you. A deep groan of satisfaction thrumming through your chest reverberated across his cock, sending shockwaves through his body. His attention swept your body, the sight of you greedily sucking him into the back of your throat was nearly his undoing, and, shifting Vicki's weight to one arm, his free hand pressed between her thighs. Grunting, he shoved two thick fingers into her dripping cunt, gathering the slick that pooled there as he curled his fingers against the front of her belly.

Vicki ground her hips against the fingers pumping aggressively into her core, her breathing labored as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Looking down for the first time since Misha had stolen her from between [Y/F/N]’s thighs, her eyes found yours just as you looked up the line of Misha's body, his golden skin hot to the touch.

Lowering herself from Misha's substantial frame, Vicki's hand wrapped around your bicep, pulling you from your knees and crushing your weight in her surprisingly strong grip. 

“On the bed. NOW!” Heat pooled between your thighs at her commanding insistence and you felt your body react, slick coating your thighs as you followed her instructions. Turning to her husband, Vicki walked around behind him, shoving a hand in the small of his back. 

“I need you to fuck [Y/F/N] now, babe. I need to see you inside her.” Misha watched as Vicki climbed to the head of the expansive bed, her fingers trailing across her body, waves of goosebumps racing across the surface as her eyes found yours, a fire lighting them from within.

Just as your lips parted to question her request, you were shoved over the foot of the bed, your tight breasts grazing the woven texture of the duvet. Strong fingers wrapped around your hips and the bruising grip sent a cry from between your lips as the silken head of Misha's cock slid between your soaked folds, teasing your entrance but holding back just enough to make you squirm.

You would be his end, Misha thought to himself. The sight of your ass pushing back against his cock as he gathered the slick coating your thighs once again distracted him. His eyes snapped to Vicki and the foil packet he tore between his teeth wouldn't open quickly enough. Pulling back just enough to roll the condom over his length, he gripped the base of his cock and lined it up with [Y/F/N]’s body, struggling to not slam into her.

As soon as Misha's tip teased your dripping cunt, you slammed your hips back against his, the full length of his cock sliding home made you scream in pleasure, your nails raking through the blankets in front of you in search of something to dig them into. Misha hadn't expected the assault and the sudden tightness clenching, sucking at his cock made him shudder. Throwing his head back, a growl rumbled through his body, his fingers tightening around your hips as he slowly withdrew, inch by agonizing inch before slamming back into you. 

“Fuck, yes! You like that, dontcha? God you take my cock so well. That tight little pussy of yours just can't get enough can she?” Misha bent over your back, gritting his teeth as he swore under his breath, setting a punishing rhythm that caused moans of pleasure to slip from your panting lips.

Glancing up at the woman with her back pressed into the headboard, a sudden hunger tore through your body, one hand darting out to wrap clammy fingers around her ankle. Vicki had zero time to react as she was pulled towards [Y/F/N] and the woman being fucked by her husband loosened her grip on the ankle she’d grabbed and wrapped both hands around her hips, her nails digging into the soft skin as her mouth plunged down between Vicki’s thighs. A startled cry caught in her throat as [Y/F/N] drug her tongue through Vicki’s folds, the tangy taste assaulting her tongue. Lowering one hand from your grip on her waist, you teased her with the tip of your finger. As the warmth of her cunt covered your exploring hands, you pressed onwards, sinking into her body while your mouth worried at her clit. Vicki’s hips bucked into your hand when you added a second finger. “Yeah, baby, just like that.” Heavy sighs fell from her lips and the sound made you even wetter. Something you hadn't thought possible.

Misha noticed the change in your body and groaned in satisfaction. Sliding one finger along his length, on the next thrust, as he slid back into your body, his index finger stretched you open more. Curling that finger as your body adjusted, he pulled it from your cunt, a trail of wetness marking your eagerness. As you continued to thrust back into Misha's  cock the heat rising in your belly made you moan. 

“Holy Hell...Oh fuck...yes! Don't stop Misha, please don't stop.” As you continued to assault Vicki’s own dripping pussy, a thin sheen of sweat coated her heavy chest as her fingers tangled in the sheets around her. Reaching up her body as her breathing intensified, you rolled one nipple between your fingers, pinching the pebbled nub while your tongue teased her clit. Wrapping her fingers into your long hair she yanked a tendril in her fist as she came, her body quaking with pleasure.

Misha's hand slid along the length of your thigh, raising over the swell of your ass as his thrusts began to stutter. Consciously, you squeezed around his cock, and he re-doubled his efforts, strings of profanities slipping unintelligible from his dry lips. Spreading his fingers wide he raised his palm and brought it down across your skin with a resounding crack,  a cry of ecstasy falling from your mouth as that coil broke, your flooded cunt contracting around Misha’s cock as he came - collapsing against your back as his chest heaved. The weight of his body pushing you into the mattress while your head rested against Vicki’s flushed skin made your eyes heavy, your heart still hammering against your ribs.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you awoke with your back pressed against Misha's warm chest, his deep, even breathing telling you he was still fast asleep. Vicki lay wrapped in your arms, her wide chocolate eyes staring up at your own [Y/E/C] irises, a soft smile playing across her features as she leaned forward and kissed you, a gentle peck, followed by a second. Warmth blossomed from your heart as the kiss deepened. Intertwining her legs with yours, she scooted closer, feeding insistently at your mouth, her hips lazily rutting against the front of the cotton sleep shorts you'd ended up putting on at some point. 

“You are...insatiable, aren't you? Both of you..” Pulling you tighter against his body, Misha's teeth grazed your ear before snuggling back into the crook of your neck - a content sigh fanning across your skin as drowsiness once again took over.

TWENTY-SIX

TAGS: @jamielea81 @wings-of-a-raven

[go-diane-winchester]

My debate with a destiel shipper

@artificial-strawberry  Thank you for your response, and not just cussing me out.  It is nice to know what is going on in your head.  First of all, neither I nor any of the other disgruntled fans I have encountered have any issues with ships.  We have issues with militant destiel fans behaving in a way that we think might endanger Jensen and Jared.  I have receipts on that. 

People don't hate them for nothing.  And I have never seen destiel shippers do posts about bad bullying and death threats online behavior towards Jensen.  The good ones don't police their sides. They quickly say ''we are not all like that''.  So please understand where my irritation is coming from.  Mine and everyone else's. 

Your response to ''Jensen can make decisions, including stopping destiel from becoming canon''.

You’re entitled to your own opinion. You don’t have to ship destiel. And you’re right, Jensen and the others do probably have a lot of power on the show, and maybe I should have phrased that more clearly: since I’ve seen some people blaming Jensen/Misha for not advocating for destiel bc ”they would be able to make it happen”, I wanted to point out that 1. they probably DON’T want to make it happen and 2. even IF they did, this is such a big decision that the writers/producers most likely wouldn’t listen to them if they were completely against it. Were the roles reversed, however, and the writers wanted to make destiel happen and the actors didn’t, then yes, Jensen and Misha probably could tell them not to do it if they didn’t want it to happen.

My response

Actually only Jensen, Jared and Bob Singer [unfortunately] are allowed to make decisions regarding the script.  Misha is not a lead and no longer No 3 on the call sheet.  He is a guest star [not a series regular] whose time on SPN has only increased because the season has been shortened.  Contractually, he is still doing the same amount of work, but it just appears that he is making more appearances.  This, according to the SPN spokesperson.  He has no clout in the decision making process.  This is what I find baffling about you, don't speak about Jensen and Misha equally when it comes to decision making.  Misha has no power.  Jensen has power.  Speak about them individually.  So yeah, Jensen can make changes.  Misha, and he had said this so many times, has no power to make changes.  Not only has he worked in fewer seasons.  He has worked in less episodes. 

Misha, according to another destiel fan, wants destiel to be canon.  You are saying he doesn't.  Meanwhile, Jensen gets an arson threat for telling the truth too many times.  So no, this is not a live and let live situation.  There is no destiel.  It is a fanon ship, not a canon ship.  And only Misha gave his fans the impression that it could be canon. 

Your responses to ''Misha queer baited the shippers with his itch tweet and he consistently queer baits''. 

What you said about Misha, I can’t necessarily verify. I haven’t seen all the things you talked about, but it is true that he has ”joked” about destiel in the past. I, too, at first was annoyed by it. You know, don’t talk about it so much if it’s never going to happen. But then I thought about it. And I realized that Misha is part of that ship. We are not. We can distance ourselves, he can not. He gets stories written about himself giving blowjobs to one of his best friends. We do not. So the fact that he jokes about the ship might be something he does in order to make fun of the thing that makes him uncomfortable. And I understand that.

You cant verify whether Misha sent out the tweet?  But the tweet is what the hellers are complaining about.  It is one of many instances that he has done that.  Misha is only part of SPN.  He is NOT part of a ship.  He didn't sign a contract with destiel.  And yes, he can totally distance himself from it.  Who is holding a gun to his head.  All he has to do is stop talking about it.  J2 have been aware of wincest for 14 years.  They have only mentioned it a handful of times, but only when they are asked about it, and yet they are aware of the stories and the fan art.  They use the art to prank each other.  But they don't discuss wincest with fans, because that is the intelligent thing to do.  They don't want to give fans ideas.  How come they managed to distance themselves.  Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, is ''compelling'' Misha to make everything about destiel and even Cockles, which he had no business speaking about either, because Cockles is a tinhat pairing.  He is only one half of a pairing.  And if the other half, Jensen speaks against destiel, Misha calls him a motherf*cker.  I have receipts of that.  Why would he do that?  No one is forcing Misha.  He is doing it for his own amusement.  Who forced him to make the TSA movie.  He is not making fun of destiel.  He is pushing destiel, even though he is aware that people think he is queer baiting.  He spoke about queer baiting.  Don't you watch his panels?  He calls the people who criticize him ''haters''. 

Your response to Misha criticized SPN for being misogynistic in 2013.

I can’t really respond to this, since I haven’t seen it, so I can’t comment on it. I do want to ask though: how do you know he wasn’t reprimanded for that?

There were news reports written about this.  Just google ''Misha Collins accuses Supernatural of being gratuitously misogynistic''.  You will find the articles.  It won't take you two minutes.  What was the result of that?  Misha fans, at his behest, starting rallying together to attack SPN for misogyny and demanded a spinoff.  Their campaigning lasted three years.  That spinoff is Wayward Daughters.  It failed due to bad ratings because only Misha's fans truly wanted it.  Everyone else didn't care.  So the spinoff didn't have an audience.  So Misha, and his big mouth, costed SPN time, money and resources but they can't get rid of him, because of Bob Singer, his wife Eugenie and her writing partner, Buckner.  That is probably why older SPN writers like Sera Gamble, Ben Edlund and Jeremy Carver just left.  They got fed up of dealing with Misha's antics and constantly shoehorning Cas into a script and they know it.  Bob keeps Misha and Cas on board. 

Your response to ''The show is not queer baiting you with metaphors, purples shirts and parallels etc''

The queerbaiting issue is difficult, I’ll say that. All I can really comment on is that I believe the show queerbaits - whether they do it on purpose or not is another thing. You’re allowed to believe that the show doesn’t and that’s cool. You’re also allowed to believe the show is perfect and has no flaws - also cool. I don’t. And that’s that. Agree to disagree.

Oh no honey.  That is not how it works.  Queer baiting should not be based on your opinions and beliefs.  You are tarnishing a show's name and yet you can't provide examples of how they are queer baiting you?  No, that is a cop out of a response if I ever heard one.  Recently, MM spoke  about  Supernatural's  ''notorious'' queer baiting.  Not because they have seen queer baiting, but because of Destiel shipper's social media trends.  The destiel shippers actually trended the topic of Jensen being a homophobe and MM picked up of that.  All because he is not giving in to Destiel.  That is sexual harassment.  They are destroying his reputation because he is refusing something sexual that they want.  Go look up the word social rape.  That is what is happening here.  I am shaking my head because you based a large part of your argument on queer baiting and yet you cant speak about it.  I cant believe you just said ''agree to disagree''.   

Your last response

And finally: I get it. You’re protective of the boys. You love them and you love the show. I don’t want to attack you and I don’t want to even try and convince you to agree with me. You’re you and I’m me and we don’t think alike and that’s fine. All I want to say is that in the future, please reconsider before calling someone names or urging people to block them. I’m a big girl; I can handle it. But there are so many little kids and young teens on this site who are vulnerable and might not be able to just brush it off.

You hate name calling.  Well, then you must despise the hellers.  They ship shame.  They tell the wincest fans to kill themselves.  They tell Jared, a suicidal man, to kill himself.  And they threatened Jensen's life multiple times.  I have receipts on my blog.  They even threatened to kidnap Jared and his children.  And they base their actions on headcanons.  That is why I call out headcanons.  I have likeminded people following my blog.  One of them directed me to your mistagged post.  I didn't find you myself.  They are fed up of destiel shippers mistagging their posts.  And they use my posts, calling out these shippers, to block because filtering tags doesn't work.  Why do you think Destiel is called DeanCas, CasDean, DeanxCastiel and various other derivatives?  So that a non-shipper would be unable to block them.  They indoctrinate people.  By the way, ''little kids'' are not supposed to be on Tumblr.  Its a violation if they are.  You should know that.  And teens are not babies.  Just a few days back, I reported a teen destiel shipper for threatening to kill SPN creators because they are not making destiel canon.  Tumblr, according to one of my readers, responded.  So no, if you misbehave on Tumblr, you should be called out for it.  Tag your post properly.  Because all that plus the online threats and excusing Misha's horrendous behavior is making your side intolerable.  People aren't getting angry for nothing.  People who were neutral on the subject,now hate it because of the tagging.  They don't even know about the threats.  Destiel, like a fly in their face, all the time, bothers them.

All in all, it was nice engaging with destiel shipper for a change, because they usually don't engage in discourse.  They just tell me to eff off.  So thank you for that.  I wish I heard more about the queer baiting, because another shipper I am currently talking to also is shirking that part about the discussion.  Which I find very quizzical. 

[darkmystress00]

Babysitter’s Club - Ch 10

A/N:  Thank you everyone for all the love for this story! I have been sitting on the first 10 chapters for so long and I was so nervous to post any of it, but all the love has helped me fall back in love with it and continue on this fun journey! I really hope you enjoy this next installment!

Trigger warnings: Jealous!Misha (is that in need of a warning?) and vaguely creepy salesman.

Pairing: Misha x Reader (EVENTUALLY)

Catch up here!

“Oh! Daddy! I want this one!” West cried as he bounced on a bed in the store.

“West,” you chided gently, scooping him up into your arms, “we can’t bounce on the furniture. These ones don’t belong to us.”

“Yeah, West.” Maison chimed in from Misha’s arms causing him to chuckle lightly.

“C’mon West. I found a neat bunk bed for you and your sister. Come take a look.” Misha called as he walked towards a bunk bed off in the corner of the massive furniture store. You followed smiling.

“Oh, West. I like that one. Look-” you motioned to the interesting bed set. “It’s got the top bunk, and then the bottom bunk comes out and has a little desk built into the side. You could do all your coloring there.” West’s eyes lit up as he looked at the little desk built into the L-shaped bed-frame. Misha smiled at you when West ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ over the desk and bed set. It seemed the kid was never happy with anything unless you approved it, or suggested it.

“You know, he’d have hated it if I’d been the only one suggesting it.” Misha mumbled next to you and you grinned at him.

“What can I say? The kid loves me.” You teased.

“He’s not the only one…” You froze, your heart thudding quickly in your chest at the meaning behind those words. Your eyes moved slowly to stare at him. Misha’s easy smile fell slightly as he watched your face morphed into one of trepidation. Suddenly, the hidden meaning of his words clicked and he coughed. “I meant Maison.” He blurted out. “I play second fiddle to you with both these kids.” You let out a pent up breath, sighing in relief. You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s like I spend every waking second with them, feeding them, clothing them, taking care of them, or something.” You laughed as West bounced his way over to you, grabbing your leg. “They’ve got great taste. What can I say?”

“That, or they’re a horrible judge of character.” Misha teased back easily and you rolled your eyes.

“Well, that would explain why they still like you…” Misha glared at you playfully. “What?” You shrugged, “Don’t blame the messenger.” A young man joined your little group, a wide smile on his face.

“Hello, my name is Brandon. Is there anything I can help you with?” He grinned at the two of you.

“Yes, we were interested in buying some beds, and a couch.” Misha said with a polite smile.

“And a dining table and chairs.” You piped up, surprising both men. “It’s a lot easier to feed the kids from a table.” You answered Misha’s questioning stare. “Nothing too extravagant.” You felt your cheeks redden in embarrassment. You weren’t trying to overstep your boundaries, but meals would be a lot easier than trying to set up picnics on the floor, and who knew when Misha would have another spare moment to pick something out that he liked.

“Good point.” He agreed and turned back to the salesman. “Some beds, a couch and a dining set.” He amended. “We just moved into a new place and we’re working on filling it with crap.”

“Dad…” West groaned and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the exasperated look he pinned Misha with.

“Sorry, West. I forgot.” Misha was notorious for having a potty mouth, but he was doing his best to watch his language around the kids. He was usually really good about it, but did have a few slip ups every once in awhile. West was very quick to remind him though.

“Well, have no fear Mr.-” The salesman paused, waiting for Misha to give him his name.

“Collins.”

“Well, have no fear Mr. Collins. I’m sure we’ll be able to find the beds and couches you want and the dining room set your wife here will love.” He shmoozed, casting a smooth smile in your direction.

“Oh I’m not…We’re not…” You stuttered, trying to explain your relationship to Misha. The salesman quirked an eyebrow at you, his smile growing a bit more as it became clear you two weren’t married. You looked to Misha for help. When you saw him trying desperately not to laugh you knew he wasn’t going to help correct the situation.  “I’m the nanny.” You finally sputtered out. Brandon just nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving you.

“Well, either way, I’m sure there will be something in this store that will catch your eye.” You blinked, your insides freezing. The look Brandon gave you and the tone of voice he used gave you pause. Was he flirting with you? “Why don’t we start over there with the tables?” He suggested, barely casting a glance to Misha.

“Uhm...well, we’re already here at the beds.” You squeaked, trying to pull Misha into the conversation. Get the attention off of you. “What do you think, Mish? You liked this one for the kids right?” Brandon turned to look to Misha who nodded.

“Yeah. This one would be great for the kids.” Misha said and you couldn’t help but notice the agitation in his voice. You gently took Maison from him, and took West’s hand, whispering that you were going to take the kids to the dining room sets while he talked numbers with Mr. Brandon. He gave you a soft smile before a small, almost imperceptible nod to show he heard you and agreed. With a breath of relief you walked away with the kids.

Misha couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at Brandon. He’d never seen someone turn so predatory in the blink of an eye. The moment Brandon had found out that you and Misha weren’t married (or connected in anyway that wasn’t professional), it was like a switch had been flipped, and frankly Misha couldn’t place the feeling that welled up inside him. He was somewhere between being smug that he could claim a little piece of you for his own (even if it was just a professional or friendly piece) and wanting to punch the man in the face. He watched as Brandon’s eyes followed you across the store to the tables. “So,” Misha called, trying to garner Brandon’s attention away from you. “As I was saying, I want one of these for the kids room, and I was looking at this one.” He moved towards a simple bed and dresser set that he had his eye on. Brandon followed behind, writing down small notes here and there.

“And for your uhm…” Brandon paused, “your nanny?” Misha bit his cheek, resisting the urge to insist that you didn’t need a bed of your own since you’d be sharing his, but he couldn’t make himself utter the bald-face lie just to put the little shit in his place.  

“She wants just a plain frame.” You supplied from behind them. “I don’t need anything extravagant. Just a plain bed will be fine.” Misha and Brandon jerked and looked at you. Misha quirked an eyebrow. “Sorry, Maison said she needed to use the restroom, so I had to come back and ask where it was.” Your eyes floated over to Brandon, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“It’s over in the corner.” Brandon grinned at you. “I would be happy to show you, if you’d like?”

“No, it’s alright. I think I can find it myself.” Your polite smile turned strained, but never left your face. “Misha, can I leave West with you? I’m sure he’s not going to want to go into the ladies room.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He watched as you turned, Maison in your arms, and made your way back across the room. He started when he heard Brandon let out a small whistle beside him and turned incredulous eyes to the man. He was at work, supposed to be a professional. Not ogling the customers. Misha grimaced, this was not going to be an easy shopping trip. “So, we’ve picked out the beds, let’s move on to couches.”

~~~

You sighed, bouncing Maison on your hip gently. She was fussy and you’d been at this whole shopping thing for a lot longer than anyone in your little group would have liked. Finally, Misha was filling out all the paperwork for his order so the furniture would be delivered and set up in the apartment that way neither one of you needed to worry about it. All you had to do was let the movers in and then get out of their way.

“All set?” Misha asked as he walked towards you and Maison and West.

“Yes. Please.” Your smile faltered when Brandon popped up behind Misha. Your eyes jumped to Misha in a question but even he seemed confused.

“Hey,” Brandon started, eyes on you, “would you want to get some coffee sometime?” Your eyes widened and jumped from Brandon to Misha’s startled face. You didn’t want to. Something about this man made your insides twist and grow cold.

“Uhm. I can’t.” Your eyes landed on Misha. “I’m working.” Brandon’s face fell a little.

“Well, you’re not working all the time.” He reasoned.

“When I’m in Vancouver, yes, yes I am.”

“But-” he started but Misha cut him off, gently reaching and ushering you towards the door.

“You heard her, she’s working.” He rumbled out before he followed you out of the store leaving an irritated Brandon in his wake.

You were mumbling to yourself indignantly as you buckled Maison and West into their seats. That was so uncomfortable. You heard Misha crawl into the front seat of the car and noticed he wasn’t his happy self either. You finished buckling in West before getting into the passenger seat next to Misha. “I’m sorry.” You blurted out. “I didn’t mean for him to be so…” you trailed off not sure what all to say. “I tried to shut it down but.” You sighed, looking at him. “It wont happen again.” He pinned you with a confused stare.

“Are you actually apologizing for getting asked out?” You nodded. “You are absolutely ridiculous.” He smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“Look, Y/N, you’re a young beautiful woman, you’re going to get asked out. Don’t apologize for that.” You felt your cheeks heat up. “Apologize when you accept.” He teased, causing you to burst into laughter. “You hungry?” You nodded, smiling through your laughter. “Perfect, how about you munchkins?” The kids let out a loud squeal of excitement at the prospect of food. “Then let’s get some food.”

~~~

You resisted the urge to sigh as Maison fidgeted in your arms on her new “big girl bed.” It had only taken a few days to get the furniture ordered and delivered, and ever since Maison had been so excited to show you how big she was by sleeping in her big girl bed. You felt Maison turn and settle in your arms again as you turned the page of her favorite book. She was fighting going to sleep even though she was way past the point of exhaustion. Usually she would crawl up onto the bed and was out like a light before you even finished the first page, but tonight it seemed something was bothering her. “What’s the matter Maison?” You asked as she rolled over in your arms to face you. She looked up at your face, her big beautiful eyes almost nervous.

“Gotta tell you something.” She squeaked out. You tilted your head in question and watched as she fidgeted with the bottom of a lock of your hair. “Love you.” You froze for a second before a big smile bloomed on your lips.

“I love you too, Maison. To the moon and back.” She looked up at you.

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, when I was little, my daddy told me that it takes the same amount of power to get a rocket ship to the moon and back as your heart beats in your chest for your whole life. So saying you love someone to the moon and back means that you love them with your whole heart, for your whole life.” Maison’s eyes grew wide.

“Really? Your whole life?” You nodded.  

“Mmhmm. Your whole life.” She looked down at your hair, which she was twirling around her fingers still.

“Y/N...to the moon and  back.” She grinned at you. You nuzzled her forehead gently with your cheek.

“To the moon and back.”

~~~

Maison let out a peal of laughter as you pushed her on the swing. “Y/N, wanna go down the slide!” You let out a giggle of your own as you stopped the swing and set her gently on the ground. She looked up at you a bright smile on her face. “To the moon and back!” She called before she scampered off towards the play equipment.

“Y/N…” West called from the swing next to you. “What’s that mean? To the moon and back?”

“Oh!” You smiled down at him. “It’s the way my daddy taught me to say I love you with my whole heart forever and ever.” you answered matter-of-factly. He seemed to ponder for a minute before nodding his head and getting off the swing to follow his sister.

“Y/N, can I say it too?” He asked as he was halfway across the play area.

“Of course, Westy. But only if you mean it.” You playfully warned. “To the moon and back is completely serious.” He grinned at you and nodded again.

“To the moon and back, Y/N!” He cried before taking off to the play structure. You smiled and followed.

“To the moon and back, Westy.” You said as you moved to catch Maison as she came down the slide.

~~~

Misha stood in the doorway and watched as you tucked in Maison, placing a gentle kiss to her head. “To the moon and back.” She called sleepily. You stroked her hair.

“To the moon and back, Maison.” Misha quirked his head, confused by the exchange. He’d heard his kids randomly telling each other that saying for a good couple of weeks now, but he’d thought it was something they’d come up with together.

“To the moon and back, Y/N.” West mumbled, half asleep as you moved to tuck him in as well.

“To the moon and back, sweetheart.” You replied. You smiled fondly down at the little boy as he rolled onto his side and snuggled into his pillow. You stood and turned to Misha grinning at his confused expression. Quietly you ushered him out of the room, closing the door before he could make sound and wake up the sleeping kids. He followed you into the living room, watching as you stooped to pick up the toys that littered the floor.

“What’s that mean?” He asked, trying to catch your eye as you cleaned. You just shrugged at him with a grin.

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out.” He let out a laugh.

“What are we twelve?” You responded by sticking your tongue out at him. “You know I’m going to figure it out eventually right? You should just tell me.” You just grinned at him.

“Not gonna happen.” He mock glared at you as he stood in the hallway. You patted his shoulder sympathetically as you walked past him towards your room. “Nice try though.” You paused in the doorway to your room and turned to face him. “You know you could always ask the kids.” You suggested.

“I’d rather hear it from you.” He supplied. Your eyes darted to his, surprised at the low husky quality you heard. It was doing funny things to your insides and made your heart beat a touch faster. He looked amazing in the low light shining down the hall from the living room. The way he was braced against the door jamb looking so relaxed, and comfortable, like he’d come into your room a million times; like he belonged with you in your room. You smiled playfully at him to try to change the mood.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to tell you.” You teased, trying to play off the awkwardness singing through your veins. Misha was attractive, there was no way to deny that,  but you’d fought long and hard to keep those thoughts to yourself. Seeing his posture and the look on his face had you imagining all sorts of naughty things you’d, up until this point, kept buried down deep inside of you. He took a casual step towards you, hands sliding into his pockets.

“And why would that be?” That was when you faltered. You fidgeted nervously. You felt your heart hammering away in your chest and wondered if your cheeks were stained red. You knew Misha would never do anything to hurt you or that you didn’t want him to, but that was the issue...you did want him to. If you admitted it to yourself, you wanted him to wrap his arms around you and kiss you. You wanted to feel him pressed up against you while you slowly peeled away layer after layer of clothing separating you. That was what made you feel awkward. You wanted him.

Misha paused as he watched you fidget. He’d never really seen you fidget around like this before. The only time he could think of that came close was that first time you’d ever traveled with him and the kids before and those girls had tried to take your picture. You’d been so nervous and uncomfortable. But what did you have to be nervous or uncomfortable about now? He took stock of the situation and blanched. He had followed you into your space, your personal space, your bedroom. While he was pretty sure you knew he’d never do anything to you, this was you he was thinking about; the person who didn’t even want to be seen sleeping for the first few months you’d been working for him. Of course you would be weird about having him in your room, so close to personal items. Her bed...Misha’s mind supplied and his eyes darted to the bed just behind you. He caught sight of the tank top and shorts you normally slept in and an image of you in them sprang to mind unbidden. The air in his lungs froze and he took a tentative step back. “Fine.” he almost choked out, trying for an easy smile. “I’ll stop bothering you about it tonight...but don’t think this is over.” You grinned at him and he moved another step away from you, out of the room. “Goodnight Y/N.” He reached out and pulled the door closed behind him, pausing slightly when you almost whispered a good night to him in return.

Your door closed with a quiet click and you let out a whoosh of breath as you moved to your bed and flopped down on the edge. You sat there in the dark just staring at your closed door. You wanted Misha. You’d finally admitted it. You wanted him. But you’d let hell freeze over before you let anything compromise your job and your relationship with those kids. They’d had enough of their world go topsy turvy. You wouldn’t disappear on them for no reason. You could be a professional, even if you were attracted to their dad...your employer.

~~~

Misha clicked off the light in the living room, his mind reeling. He would be lying if he tried to deny that he’d always thought you were gorgeous. But the image of you in your sleep clothes had done something to him he hadn’t anticipated. His heart had gone into double time, mouth had gone dry, and he’d wanted it. He’d wanted to see you in your sleep clothes, rumpled and warm from sleep. But the thing that shook him the most, he wanted to see those clothes wrinkled and laying in a heap on the floor of his room. That was new.

As he moved past your room he licked his lips. Judging by the nervous jittery movements you’d displayed you didn’t feel the same (why would you?) and he was determined to put it past him. He would never do anything to make you uncomfortable...no matter what.

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[67midnightwriter]

The Moment I Knew

A/N: Please enjoy this little one shot I’ve been messing with these past few days. Beta’d by the ever wonderful @sculptorofbeginnings

Angst/Fluff

Misha Collins x Reader

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence and Death

W/C: 2172

Summary: It started out as a secret and it grew, as secrets often do.

You shifted in your seat, trying to blend in and look like just another fan. You smiled as they played his theme song, biting back a laugh while he sent you text after text as though he wasn’t currently holding up an entire convention. These were the moments you cherished, when he made you feel like the only person in world. They were fleeting, few and far between, but you burned every single one to your memory, like a tattoo on your heart that might fade in time but would be with you always.

When he came out on stage his eyes found yours, as if they were drawn by a magnetic pull. He gave a knowing wink, and you couldn’t help but grin as the girls on either side of you squealed in delight. Misha launched into a story about your morning adventures, quite literally running into a protest downtown, awestruck at how he dove headfirst into the cause, somehow scrounging up poster board and markers; easily coercing you into making signs with him with the promise of an extra large morning latte. When things had gotten too heated for your liking, you had grabbed Misha’s hand and led him away to the coffee shop on the corner.

You looked around as Misha began taking fan questions, and that’s when you saw his face. It jumped out at you from the crowd, causing your heart to palpitate in your chest, though you weren’t sure why. A few more questions were answered as you flipped through memories, trying desperately to figure out why this stranger was making your skin crawl and tingle in anticipation.

He stood up, a tan trench coat that was two sizes too big swaying as he made his way to the middle isle that led to the main stage. As soon as you saw the frayed and stained bottoms, everything clicked into place. The world slowed down as you jumped out of your chair, fear radiating off of your body as your eyes caught the glint of a gun you knew wasn’t a cosplay prop; he was the man that Misha had gotten into a fight with at the protest, and while you had brushed off his death threats there, now they seemed impossibly tangible.

The entire audience went silent as he said Misha’s name, stopping him mid sentence. The metallic click of the safety reverberated through the auditorium, urging you forward. You began to run as Misha dropped his microphone, all the color draining from his face while he took slow, unsteady steps backward. Someone screamed as he cocked the gun, and you stepped in front of it just as he began to aim.

“Don’t do this.” For a second the voice in the air didn’t register as your own. It was strong and steady, the exact opposite of how you felt currently. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh sweets, I think I really want to do this. Now move.”

You looked him directly in the eyes. They were a cloudy gray, hazy and rimmed in red. His pupils were dilated, and you realized that he was terrified as well. When you didn’t move he tried to aim the gun over your shoulder, but you wrapped your hands around the cold barrel and you pressed it to your chest.

“If you are going to kill anyone in this building, it’s going to be after you kill me.” He paused, his attention turning from you to Misha. His eyes bore into yours, confusion washing over them; you had caught him off guard, and now he wasn’t sure how to continue. People were now streaming out of the room, and you could tell he was getting flustered, his plan now thrown out the window. “If you are going to shoot anyone, it’s going to be me. After you watch the light fade from my eyes, feel my body go weak and useless against yours, then you can decide if you want to pull this trigger again while it’s facing another person.”

He swallowed hard. You felt his grip on the gun loosen momentarily, his hands starting to shake as the realization of the true consequences of his actions were catching up in his head. He looked over your shoulder, glancing at Misha once more. You could see in the reflection of the projector screen in his glasses that Misha was frozen, watching you with an open mouth and a pale face, resisting as Cliff tried to pull him backstage.

The lights in the auditorium went off. The gunshot seemed to echo forever. Screams harmonized as you swayed on your feet. The pain wasn’t instant. The gun was suddenly heavy in your hands as he dropped it, and you heard him fall as he backed away from you, semi-coherent apologies streaming from his lips. The front of your shirt was hot and sticky as you stepped backwards until your back hit the wooden base of the stage. You slid to the floor as the lights came back on.

Misha dropped to the ground beside you. He pulled you close, squeezing as though he was trying to hold you together. The gun fell from your hands as you reached for him, clutching the front of his t-shirt with whatever grip you could muster. One hand traveled to his cheek, forcing his gaze from your chest to your face.

“Misha, I-” Your voice shook. Tears began to spill from broken blue eyes.

“No, don’t say it.” His lip quivered.

“I love-” The edges of your vision were beginning to darken.

“Y/N please, I need you.” His voice cracked.

“You.” You closed your eyes, and he screamed.

Misha jumped as Jensen wrapped an arm around his shoulder. His touch pulled Misha from the memory, and after a few blinks the red faded from his shaking hands, the weight of your body in his arms a ghost once more. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, turning his attention once more to the fan that had asked the question.

He brought it upon himself, doing an interview three months after the incident when the fandom was buzzing with rumors you didn’t deserve. The headline still sat on the their coffee table, staring at him on calm nights while Vicki worked on her new book and he tried to think about anything other than what had happened; ‘Misha Collins and the fan that saved his life: “I loved her.”’ He hoped that he had done you justice.

Now, six months later, the first convention was harder than anyone had imagined.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t-” The fan backtracked.

“No, that’s okay. It’s a long story, so I’ll give you the cliff notes.” Misha took a deep breath, and Jensen squeezed his shoulder for support. “She strode onto set her first day with a confidence that I could only ever wish to have. She was wild, constantly pushing me past limits and somehow finding the best in every situation. She felt like sunshine and-” He paused, tears burning his eyes again as her memory danced behind his eyes.

“She was made for Misha.” Jensen interjected. “We could all see it. Vicki even started calling her his ‘set wife’ after her first visit for the new season.” Jensen’s laugh eased a bit of the pain that weighed heavy on Misha’s chest.

“It’s funny, when you think you have so much time with a person you waste it. You let precious days slip through your fingers like they’re never ending, when in reality-” Another pause, another shaky breath- “I refused to let myself feel what I should have been feeling all along. I hid her away like my own little secret, because I was scared of getting hurt. I put up walls that she didn’t deserve, and on this side of things I realize that I wasn’t shutting her out, but I was locking myself up. What’s the difference betweens walls keeping out the world and fencing yourself in anyways?” He bit his lip, turning to look at Jensen before continuing. “That moment, when she stood so strong in front of that gun for me, when she could have slipped away with the crowd and no one would have even questioned it, that’s the moment I knew I loved her.”

“Did you ever try and find her afterwards?”

“There was a bomb that went off in the lobby. A lot of pandemonium that day, and there was a mixup in with what hospital she was taken to. The last I heard she was pronounced dead in the ambulance-” Misha’s voice cracked again, and he bit his lip.

“Misha looked. We all did. We spent weeks calling all the hospitals in the area, searching for her by name, looking for Jane Does… It seems like something that could only happen in the movies, but she was gone.”

The crowd gasped, and for a second Misha’s skin prickled as panic started to spread. The memory threatened to break through again, the real world in front of him blurring as he started to lose his grip on what was here and now and what was in the past. Jensen laid his hand on Misha’s forearm, squeezing it and grounding him with the sensation. He could still hear her voice saying his name, and he shook his head, ready to leave the panel before he lost his control in front of the crowd.

“Misha.”

He looked up, sure that he was hearing a ghost, but there you were on the other end of the stage. You were tucked protectively beneath Jared’s arm, standing between him and Vicki, looking impossibly small. Bright red fresh scars peaked out from the dip in your shirt, and you had lost weight, but you were there.

Misha’s microphone clattered to the ground. He was on his feet, the sound of his chair falling to the stage causing you to flinch as his legs carried him to you. He wrapped you in his arms, crushing you to his chest as you wrapped your legs around his hips. He kissed you, not caring anymore who saw, or what they thought. Your tears mixed together on his face, hot and wet, and for a moment you  just existed together once more.

“I love you too.” He managed, pressing his lips to whatever skin of yours he could reach while your laughter bubbled out.

“Happy birthday Misha.” Vicki’s hand rubbed circles on his back as she kissed his cheek, and he turned to give her a kiss as well.

“And here I thought you couldn’t out-do last years gift.” Laughter floated through your little group as the crowd behind them cheered, bringing Misha back to down to earth.

He sat you down on the ground, grabbing your hand and lacing his fingers with yours before pulling you up on stage. Jensen followed, a bright grin on his face as Misha sat back down his his chair, pulling you into his lap.

“I’m sorry guys, but I don’t think we’re going to be able to finish this panel without a special guest appearance.”

No one protested.

“Why did you hide?” Misha asked, his thumb caressing your cheekbone as his hand cupped your face. You ran your hands through the hair on his chest, pressing kisses on his hot skin while you tried to work out what you wanted to say.

“I was scared. When this started you told me that you couldn’t love me. Not after what had happened before. I was okay with that for awhile, but somewhere along the line just having you wasn’t enough. I wanted you and Vicki, and the kids. I wanted to be a part of your family.” A tear slipped down your cheek and Misha kissed it away, pulling you closer and nuzzling against your neck. “I didn’t have control of myself and my feelings like I thought I did, and that scared me. You were in control, so I did the only thing I could think to do. I ran.” You could feel Misha’s tears against your neck, and you carded your hand through his hair comfortingly. “I didn’t want to force you to make a decision that you didn’t want to make. Or maybe I was scared of you not making the decision I wanted.”

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper against your skin, and for a moment you wondered if you heard it or felt it. “I’m sorry for so much Y/N. I’m sorry for-”

You pressed your lips against his, cutting off his apology.

“If I let you continue we are going to be in this bed for another fifteen years.” A sad chuckle escaped his lips before he kissed you again, long and slow.

“Probably.”

Words stopped, and hands spoke. Touches mended cracked souls, lips pressed broken pieces back into place. You relearned each others bodies in the dark, not resting until long after the sunrise burned through the thin hotel curtains.