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goncharov-propaganda-factory · 10 months

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Mishapocalypse: what the-

Hey, former redditors! Welcome to the hellsite, we're all glad that you're here (especially you 196 folk you warm my dead, frozen heart). While on the whole you seem to be adapting AMAZINGLY fast to site culture, if any of you are confused over one of our founding myths this may help.

(or if you're a veteran tumblrina and just want to read an essay that's fine too)

(others key parts of our national identity to learn about if you're curious include Goncharov, I Love You, Color of the Sky, My Three Girlfriends, and many more)

also if you don't want to read my entire fucking essay take this and run

but if you want to know the deal with this man, read on!

Mishorigins

Supernatural is a 2000s-ass TV series that ran on the CW from 2005 to 2020. It's about two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, who are "hunters" that protect people from various supernatural entities. The show was originally planned to last five seasons, with an angel character named Castiel (this is important) slated to be revealed as God in the finale. Castiel (nicknamed Cass by the CW and Cas by objectively correct people) was introduced in S4.

left: Castiel, the gay angel of our collective dreams. right: Misha Collins.

The Man Behind the Mish

Misha Collins is a straight man who was forced by a cruel and uncaring god to play a heavily queer coded angel on a TV series intended for any demographic BUT gay teens (which is what it became). His performance as Castiel, and the large queer teen fanbase he drew, were a driving force behind a show would ultimately continue for three times longer its original plan.

I don't have anywhere else to put these facts so they go here

he was an intern in the Clinton administration during the Lewinsky scandal

he knows Tibetan throat singing

he was arrested for climbing onto a bank roof (he was trying to... read a book? 👀👀👀)

he probably made Jensen Ackles (the guy who played Dean less homophobic? Maybe?

he held a scavenger hunt called GISHWHES several times for his charity, Random Acts

cool guy

he later played Harvey Dent on Gotham Knights this very year (2023)

there's icebergs of this shit

he farted on an airplane once

Mishion: Impossible

April 1st, 2013 is a date that will live in mishinfamy. Tumblr a main hub of the SuperWhoLock fandom (a mega-fandom amalgamating Supernatural, Sherlock BBC, and Doctor Who), was the only place the Mishapocalypse could happen.

For boring deets I'll redirect you to the KnowYourMeme page but these images should sum it up.

left: a list of Tumblr users, circa 2013. right: a fine example of Misha culture

There are two takeaways here:

You cannot outrun Misha.

You will become him.

On April 1, 2013, a significant portion of Tumblr changed their avatar to the now-iconic Mishapocalypse photo and their handle to "Misha Collins", followed by similar waves of Mish across other social media sites.

above: the modern Prometheus

This beautiful event was emblematic of pre-Dashcon Tumblr, an era as far away from us now as 1200 AD was from 1208 AD. You'll be pleased to know that the Mishapocalypse returns every April 1st to grace these ancient halls, a small group of pilgrims tracing new paths on the well-worn floor of the Church of Misha.

(this isn't to say the Supernatural fandom is dead, it's just somewhat diminished from it's glory days.

Thanks for reading! Reblog if you liked. I'll leave you with a bunch of Mishimages of my own that I posted for Mishapocalypse 23 (the 10th anniversary). Shameless self-promotion!!!

in clockwise order:

The Mona Misha

Mishius

Misha's extra hour in the ball pit

The Mishian (with Mish Damon)

Future ideas include Salvator Misha. Feel free to ask any questions you have, and I hope you enjoy Tumblr.

Happy Mishing!

ps I have not actually watched supernatural you just learn all of this via osmosis

#196 #mishapocalypse #reddit #reddit refugees #Tumblr #explainer post #r196 #long post

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sailorsally · 8 months

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Fucking cw ?? let a show have a poly relationship?? HmPf..😑 Figured it would be the weird as space show riverdale who no one takes seriusly.. but a win is a win ? Maby? 🤷🏼‍♂️

Well, times are changing & riverdale is just a baby in comparison to spn. Gotham Knight also had a lesbian couple and a trans character and it also ran on CW. When Misha called SPN "a vestige of a different era" he was right. Having queer people on new shows is nothing special nowadays but you saw what happened when Cas came out. A proper reciprocation and a destiel kiss would have made history. Not because there are no queer people on tv but because there are no queer people who the audience has watched and cared about and identified themselves and grew up with for 15 years. So when something as iconic as SPN says a beloved character is gay/bi/etc it's way more impactful than when a show like riverdale does the same. Though I gotta give Riverdale some credit - queer rep might be gaining popularity but poly rep not so much, so what they did in the finale was still p cool.

You know how it is, God is allowed to be bi, Archie , Veronica, Jug & Betty are allowed to be poly but we always draw the line at Dean Winchester.

#ask sally #spn #riverdale

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catsconflictscopicsandchamomile · 4 months

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Under the weather so yall know what that means... Whump thoughts time.

In another instance of "making memeable/iconic-but-random/questionable parts of spn's writing into actual angst"

I'm thinking about the mechanics of the whole Ceiling Fire Thing

like is that ever explained? what IS that? why are they stuck to the ceiling? how did they get up there? do we ever actively SEE it happen in canon, or just the aftermath? its a weirdly specific type of attack, only used by Azazel and those working for him. The victim:

-is pinned to the ceiling

-with a (assumedly) fatal slash wound across their midsection

-and then catches on fire, with the fire seeming to radiate out from behind them/from their back, and quickly catching the surrounding ceiling, walls and anything else on fire as well.

-due to crappy cw lighting, I can't quite tell if the victims are conscious for all or any of this.

so I have QUESTIONS. mostly, what the fuck. none of this bears ANY resemblance to standard killings by demons, other princes of hell, or any other type of monster. Is it the wound itself that catches on fire, or the whole person, or somehow the ceiling itself? how is that wound made? It looks like it was inflicted with a blade or claw, but it also clearly doesn't bleed as much as a wound like that should. is the fire hellfire or just magically amplified? does this method of killing serve any purpose besides sending a message? we don't know how long Jess was up there before Sam got home and went to bed, so does the final stage (catching on fire) activate on some kind of timer or set of conditions, like a curse? HOW DID THEY END UP ON THE CEILING?!

...and um. what if

idk

what if Azazel came back via SPN Logic and someone, idk someone REALLY THEMATICALLY SIGNIFICANT, like. Dean. yeah what if Dean ended up getting attacked in that way but (probably due to knowing who Azazel is/knowing how this kind of attack works) managed to avoid the whole "stuck to the ceiling" part and get away. What happens when Dean is running for his life, trying to stem the bleeding from a massive slash wound in his side, feeling the heat spreading from it into the rest of his body and knowing exactly whats happening to him. What about when Sam & Cas find him, either collapsed against the bunker's door, or curled up in an alley somewhere after he didn't come back from a hunt and they went looking for him, delirious from blood loss and a fever that won't stop rising, that keeps rising long after it should have killed Dean.

how long would it take for Sam to figure it out? would the edges of the cut be burning and sizzling, or would it be more subtle? would Dean be nearly dead, and Sam and Cas out of ideas to help him, when the bedsheets underneath him begin to catch fire?

or alternately, what if it WAS obvious. maybe Dean, in his last coherent moments, gasps out that Azazel is back, or maybe as the curse/spell/whatever-it-is worsens, he's flung around the room by some invisible force before being shoved against the ceiling. Is there even a way to cure this?

uhhh anyway yeah. tldr the Ceiling Fire thing has ZERO inherent logic but I WILL whump anything

#supernatural #whump #spn whump #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester whump #whump prompt #Yet More Extremely Questionable Ideas #ceiling fire

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 months

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December 2023/January 2024 Contest Submission #3: NightLink

Words: ca. 2,900 Setting: modern AU Lemon: lime CW: none

Elsa’s delicate fingernails danced without pressing down along her backlit Macbook keyboard—tikitikitik—one of countless nervous habits she channeled through her restless hands on a daily, weekly, lifetime basis. She sat hunched over her kitchen counter in the dark, blinking into the cool glow of the laptop screen like a neurotic mushroom.

“You need to let loose,”Kristoff had said to her two weeks ago, during a lull while they polished up pint glasses behind the bar. “Spice up your life a little.”

“I don’t take romantic advice from guys who quote Spice Girls,” Elsa retorted.

“Yeah, well, you could use it. I see you vibrating with pent-up frustration whenever a female with a pulse comes up to order a drink. So, what’s the issue?”

What could she say? It’s not like she could tell him why no one was good enough, why no one could even come close to—god, it was shameful just thinking about it. So she just whapped his arm with a dish towel and said, “I’m not trying your stupid hookup site.”

But she was lonely. And yes, vibrating with pent-up frustration.

She tried the stupid hookup site.

Now, weeks later, she sat at her laptop and questioned the life choices that had brought her to this corner of the internet on her night off. NIGHTLINK proclaimed the banner in lurid scarlet script. Below that, in joyless contrast, was the Terms and Conditions page. Elsa had set that part of the website as her bookmark because the homepage’s bouncing, jiggling DickTok ads and lecherous mosaic of g-string thirst traps scared her.

But what scared her even more: a tiny red inbox notification blinking in the lower corner of the screen. The little speech bubble icon had been pinging patiently at her for the last ten minutes while she stared, stewed, screwed up the courage to open the new message.

What if it was from her?

“They’re just internet randoms,” Elsa chastised herself, rubbing her elbow. “Who the hell cares? Just read it.”

So she sucked in a deep breath and opened her messages.

[NEW] Subject: u want sum?

She let out a sigh. False alarm.

Her eyes drifted to the message thread second from the top:

[1:18 P.M.] Subject: still awake?

Elsa’s nails skittered across the keys in another fitful burst of phantom typing: tikitikitik. No new messages from the one person whose notifications made her heart skip a beat. It had taken her entire lunch break to craft and commit to a reply, so why crickets ten whole hours later?

Whatever. Just internet randoms. She opened the new message at the top of her inbox.

The sender, EforEveryone, hadn’t even bothered typing a body to the message. All he’d sent was a photo attachment; a tiny thumbnail beneath the subject linepreviewed the nice surprise he had sent over for her viewing pleasure.

Elsa grimaced. Why did so many of them turn the camera flash on for dick pics? Did they want their junk to look like a naked mole rat?

As for the rest of him: EforEveryone’s profile picture showed a shirtless, sunburned bro flipping the bird at—Elsa surmised—all the haters. She could just imagine his sleazy voice:

u want sum?

“No thank you,” Elsa grunted, then hit BLOCK. She’d set her preferences to women only, but like clockwork, a steady influx of thirsty internet dudes came sniffing around with zero sense of boundaries. Actually… zero sense. Full stop.

Navigating back to her inbox, she skimmed over more than a dozen subject lines proposing threesomes and/or drooling over the girl-girl preference listed on her profile.

Nearly all of them, except…

[1:18 P.M.] Subject: still awake?

Elsa clicked on the second message in her inbox. She couldn’t help it.

Her fingernails tapped a frenetic rhythm on the granite countertop while she gazed at the profile picture that appeared on her screen. ginger4u13 lay on her back, molten red hair fanned out on a pillow, while a lacy maroon bra pushed up generous cleavage. The picture cropped just below a tantalizing slice of the girl’s taut white stomach. A flaming heart emoji pasted on the picture obscured her face.

God, this girl was so… she was just so…

Elsa hated to admit that she might have a type.

And it wasn’t just the picture that excited Elsa. Just rereading that morning’s messages with ginger4u13 made Elsa’s cheeks burn.

ginger4u13:

i want to say something really forward, but i’m worried i’ll scare you off

it’s about your picture

Wanderlusting:

Try me.

Elsa’s reply had read like a deadpan delivery, but her heart had been pounding in her throat when the girl diverted from light flirting into this territory. Elsa’s own picture—a vacation snapshot from her January solo trip to Iceland’s Blue Lagoon hot springs—showed her half-submerged in a sweeping expanse of milky blue water, tendrils of steam rising up around her, with snow-capped black cliffs jutting out in the breathtaking backdrop. She’d censored her face with a black rectangle, of course, but the string bikini left little to the imagination. She marveled at her own daring in uploading the picture—at asking a Korean tourist to snap the full-body photograph in the first place—but it was a big hit with the horny straight guys and unicorn hunters flooding her inbox. As for the women…

ginger4u13:

looking at you in the hot springs, i can’t help thinking

that blush on your chest is so sexy

my mind goes to one of my favorite things about being with a woman

hmmm, i should stop

Wanderlusting:

You can go on.

I’m curious.

ginger4u13:

i love the way a woman’s body flushes with color when you heat her up with your hands

so when i see you like that in your picture, i just think…

ginger4u13:

sorry, was that too much?

Wanderlusting:

It’s not.

I like it.

Your words are triggering my imagination.

That was an understatement. Elsa had spent the entire morning pacing her apartment like a tiger in a cage. Elsa had never thought to appreciate this physical detail, but now that it was in her head, it was so incredibly suggestive. She imagined ginger4u13’s photo come to life, flushing pink just above her breasts the way the girl had described. She also imagined the girl’s chest heaving off-rhythm with quickening breaths, sweat gleaming at the hollow of her throat, a bloom of color heating up behind scattered freckles.

…What?

Elsa couldn’t know that ginger4u13 had freckles behind the emoji that obscured her face. Why would she imagine that? Her thoughts were wandering to such dangerous places.

“I’m going to hell,” Elsa rasped, mouth dry. She hopped off the stool and padded to the fridge for a bottle of water. Standing in the stark light pouring out from inside the fridge, she started in on what had become—in the last three days she’d been chatting with ginger4u13—her constant spiral of self-reassurance. Surely she wasn’t a complete degenerate for gravitating towards a girl who so, so closely resembled her literal sister?

Florence Pugh married a dude who’s nearly identical to her dad, Elsa thought as she sipped, and she keeps scoring roles in blockbusters, so it’s not some unforgivable offense that will get a girl canceled. This is just a subconscious affinity our monkey brains make when we select our partners.

She carried the water back to her laptop and hopped back up on the stool. On the tail end of that afternoon’s exchange, she had composed a proposition that took all of her courage to type. Only to be ghosted. Elsa groaned and dropped her head into her hands.

This is what I get for following Kristoff’s advice. I’m so bad at this, it’s pathetic.

To torture herself, Elsa scrolled down to reread her rejected proposition. Then her cheeks tingled as the blood drained from her face.

She’d typed the message, but hadn’t hit send. The sentence waited in the limbo of the chat composition bar:

Do you want to trade more pictures?

Elsa stifled a strangled cry of dismay in her fist. ginger4u13 must think she’s the ghost. Before she could second-guess herself, Elsa hit send on the message draft.

Wanderlusting:

Do you want to trade more pictures?

Elsa chugged down the rest of her water. When she looked back to the screen, she spotted a green dot indicating ginger4u13 had logged online. Barely thirty seconds had elapsed. Then, a typing bubble appeared.

ginger4u13:

yes

i want to see more of you

do you want more of me?

Elsa chewed her lip. Once again, her mind wandered.

Wanderlusting:

More than you know.

ginger4u13:

give me 5 minutes :)

i want to snap something🌶️just for you

Elsa sat frozen on the stool for a minute. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. She didn’t think she would get this far, especially not with an internet random who was so absolutely gorgeous and easy to talk to.

something 🌶️ just for you

That very minute, ginger4u13 was taking a photo exclusively for Elsa. Not a selection pulled from the selfie bank—a real-time glimpse. The thought electrified Elsa with excitement. She closed her laptop, hopped off the stool, and weaved her way through the dark kitchen into her bedroom. When she switched on the lamp next to the bed, she took a minute to appreciate how well her floor-to-ceiling mirror would suit full-body thirst traps.

She’d never used it for that purpose before.

But for this girl, who was so… who was just so…

Elsa pulled down her sweats and stripped off her T-shirt.

Five minutes later, she sat in her lingerie on the edge of the bed and swiped through her camera roll. The photos were… fine. Elsa had no idea how to pose herself seductively, and had settled for toying with her bra strap. At the very least, she could work a nervous tic into a suggestive pose, sliding the strap partway down her shoulder. She selected the photo where the light and shadow play best captured the subtle parentheses of her obliques—a feature she actually liked about herself. After hastily scribbling over her face in the photo markup editor, Elsa lay back on the bed and opened the NightLink app on her phone.

Nothing from ginger4u13 yet. It had been seven minutes; had she changed her mind? But Elsa had already committed to the photo shoot. She uploaded the thirst trap… and hit send. Then, after a minute, she figured the picture looked weird without any accompanying text, so she typed out:

Wanderlusting:

Just for you.

A typing bubble appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again, and once more disappeared. Elsa’s heart rate spiked—insecurity, suspense, and arousal clashed within her. A moment later:

ginger4u13:

you are so fucking

unbelievably

gorgeous💦

The wet emoji—Elsa blinked. What was the girl implying? That she was… that Elsa had made her…?

ginger4u13:

you’ve got me sweating now

Elsa cleared her throat. Right. She began typing an automatic “Thank you,” then thought better of it. Too sterile.

Wanderlusting:

Like I said, just for you.

If I’m being honest… talking to you has already had me sweating.

ginger4u13:

really?

Elsa hesitated. Then:

Wanderlusting:

Absolutely.

Your words, your picture

I think you might be just my type.

ginger4u13:

i’d love to be your type

Before Elsa could reply, a photo attachment filled her phone screen.

All the blood rushed to one pulsing point below her stomach.

ginger4u13 lay on her back, this time pulling the camera back far enough to show more of her body. She stretched out in dark lingerie, spine arched just so, showing off the smooth expanse of her bare stomach, her thighs tightly squeezed together. One hand squeezed her left breast, the thumb sliding her bra a few inches aside to reveal a taut, pink nipple. The photo cut off just above her lips—a tantalizing hint at an identity just out of reach.

Elsa drank in the photo for a full minute, skin tingling all over.

Just for you.

She fumbled and backspaced through typos. Then:

Wanderlusting:

Is it wrong that I want to touch you?

ginger4u13:

i’d want it

Wanderlusting:

Where?

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Thirty seconds later, another photo dropped in. Embers erupted low in Elsa’s stomach. ginger4u13 lay in the same pose, only this time, her left hand had snaked all the way down past the waistband of her underwear and disappeared inside. The thumb hovered over the patch of skin between her navel and her waistband. Elsa imagined the tiny hairs there, imagined grazing them with her lips. She was throbbing, now.

ginger4u13:

right here

Elsa typed and scrapped one reply after another:

What would you do if

I would

I wish I could

You’re making me so

ginger4u13:

you’re making me nervous with all the typing

;)

Wanderlusting:

I’m trying to find the words for what

Sorry, accidentally hit send.

For what you’re doing to me.

ginger4u13:

try harder

It was also hard for Elsa to type with just one thumb. Her left hand kept drifting, as if with a mind of its own, to roam across her fevered skin, trailing along her bra cups, lightly scratching her inner thighs—

Kristoff was right. She did need to let loose some of her pent-up frustration, even if on some twisted level, she knew she was engaging in a fucked-up fantasy that played into her “subconscious affinity.”

ginger4u13:

if you can’t find the words, you can show me instead

yes, i’m greedy

after that fucking picture you sent, how could i not be?

Elsa stared into the whirring blades of the ceiling fan overhead, trying to think of a reasonable argument to slow down, too hazy in the heady mist of arousal to form anything more coherent than More, now, go, go, more.

ginger4u13 hadn’t asked for a video, but whenever Elsa managed to break her chains of insecurity, she was surprisingly prone to escalating one-upmanship. While she waited for the ten-second video to upload, she grabbed her discarded bra from the duvet and tossed it in the direction of her laundry pile chair. She obsessively scanned ginger4u13’s previous messages, breath coming in hot jets from her nostrils, while she waited for a reply.

i’d want it

yes, i’m greedy

Finally:

ginger4u13:

oh my fucking god

jesus christ

you have no idea how this makes me so… 💦

who are you?

Elsa froze. Frown lines appeared between her brows as she tried to wrap her head around the question.

ginger4u13:

easy on the typing bubbles, it’s a joke ;)

i’m just saying, though

if you turn me on so badly over the phone, of course i’m dying to find out what you’d feel like in person

your body, your hands…unless you just want to text…

Elsa hesitated. Her rational thoughts said, Don’t be an impulsive idiot. Her thrumming body said, Don’t fucking stop now. After a minute, she bit her lip and typed a reply:

Wanderlusting:

I wouldn’t rule it out.

ginger4u13:

i’m glad

you know, i’m forming this fantasy about you

about your body, and the way you’re touching yourself

ginger4u13:

should i stop?

Wanderlusting:

Tell me.

Please.

ginger4u13:

it’s hard to type though

my hand is occupied ;)

can i tell you over the phone?

Elsa sucked in a deep breath, anticipation racing like wildfire along every inch of skin that she’d exposed for her video.

Wanderlust:

Okay.

ginger4u13:

here’s my number

5550131127

call me

Elsa closed out of the NightLink app and readjusted herself, crooking her legs wider and easing herself fully flat on her back as she began tapping ginger4u13’s number into the keypad.

555 013—

What appeared on the screen gripped Elsa’s chest with an icy fist.

Contact: Anna 🍫 (555) 013-1127

NO. NO. NONONO NO.

Elsa scrambled to punch backspace. She tried typing ginger4u13’s number again. The same contact suggestion appeared. She opened Anna’s contact card and compared it with the number ginger4u13 had sent. Identical.

A full ten minutes of immobilized panic followed. With her head swimming in a thick gauze of dread, Elsa didn’t hear the ping of “ginger4u13”’s incoming messages. She saw them pop up on her lock screen, though.

ginger4u13:

where did you go?

ginger4u13:

hello?

Elsa imagined Anna lying on her bed across town, frowning into her phone—her phone with the spidery cracks from dropping it two stories off a hotel balcony on their sisters’ trip to Oslo last summer.

Emphasis on sisters’ trip. Jesus fucking Christ. Elsa had taken her top off for her own baby sister, sent her a video of full-on—of literally touching her own—

A sudden thought lunged, unbidden, to the forefront of Elsa’s sickened internal spiral:

What was her fantasy about me?

Elsa wanted to die. She’d gotten aroused—so painfully aroused—from looking at her own sister.

Another warped thought shot like a lance past all the others:

That wasn’t the first time, though, was it?

Elsa snatched up her phone, opened her thread with “ginger4u13,” and jabbed BLOCK.

That was enough spice for twenty lifetimes. Fucking Kristoff. Fucking Spice Girls.

A drop from a two-story balcony wasn’t sounding so bad right now.

#elsanna #December 2023 contest #prompt: spice #lime #submission

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solarcas · 1 year

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☆ Solar's birthday celebration event masterlist ☆

Hey everyone!! I had a great time celebrating my birthday and follower milestone with all of you last month!! I know I'm a bit late to this, since I was very busy recently, but I still wanted to compile a masterlist of all the pieces made for my event so I have all of the amazing things you created all collected in one place! <]:) Thank you again to everyone who participated, please check out all the links below and leave these talented and kind people some love and reblogs <33

Eldritch Horror trueform!Cas edit by @holydeans

wahrezugform!Karsten (Übernatürlich) fanart by @deancrowleycas

hat collage <]:) by @theecelestialsodomite

A new Dieter Dönermann (Übernatürlich) chapter by @theecelestialsodomite [link to ao3]

trueform!Cas fanart by @softcorecastiel (CW gore)

glitter Cas icons by @emeraldcas

trueform!Cas fanart by @faithlesshunter

Purple + Green winged!Cas fanart by @faithlesshunter

Karsten (Übernatürlich) hat die Kresse :( fanart by @castiel-kaesi-kaestiel

Cowboynatural DeanCas gifset by @xofemeraldstars

Cas in 13x04 portrait by @magickastiel

Männer des Westens - Dieter (Übernatürlich) AMV by me <]:)

solar!Cas fanart by me <]:)

And to finish, an honourary mention that was based on my prompts but only finished and posted later: Dean in Rhonda's red dress by @sketchbookdean

Extra special mega bonus points go to Kat, Lana and Käsi for actually doing traditional art <33 but ofc everyone on this list gets a good grade in being a Solar Mutual™️, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve-

Again, thanks so much to everyone who participated!!! 💞🤠

#solarcas400 #bday event <]:)#this was so much fun!!!!!#thank you all again for making my bday so much greater <33 #i hope i didnt forget anything or overlooked it bc tumblr was weird abt tags again or smth #event #spn event #spnblr event #chapeldean #deancaskiss #userjdw #castiellesbian #rambleoncas #userda

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spnshameblog · 2 years

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i bet casbait is gonna be used the same way as they did in 15x19/15x20. Probably with a throwaway line and to never be mentioned again. Why else show Cas in that trailer then

yeah, if at all. honestly i think the clip is just in there for flavour. if cas had an extended role in the show, they would have marketed the shit out of that. its a cw show, not a marvel movie where all details of the plot must be hidden under threat of execution. there isnt going to be a secret sideplot of dean and cas adventure.

cas will have a mini cameo AT MOST and, as ive said, all that would do is piss me off more, bc theyre wasting the return of my beloved castiel on a show about my most behated character.

(i have a theory that theyre using that imagery as a way to introduce a completely different character, while also doing a callback to one of the most iconic entrances on the show. its gonna end up not being cas related at all)

#ask #anon #m #jary prequel hate

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angelfishofthelord · 3 years

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halloween cas icons/wallpapers

#feel free to put in requests for different color variations for any of these #my spn edit #cas icons #spn icons #halloween icons #cw eye horror #halloween edit #angelfish halloween

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fish-ofishial · 3 years

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Cas and Misha deserved better

Castiel deserved better because he confessed his love to Dean after 12 years, but was mentioned twice (2) after that.

Misha deserved better because he dedicated 12 years to a tv show and was a main person/regular, but then wasn’t even in the finale, despite his character being alive.

Cas deserved better because he suffered in so many ways and didn’t think he was worthy of love, friendship, being an angel, and being human.

Cas thought he deserved to die over and over again and again and the only thing that mattered in his life was saving Dean Winchester.

Misha had to deal with the article he wrote 20 years ago defending a woman being brought up as a “sex scandal” with Bill Clinton.

Cas fell from Heaven and lost his grace, which is said to be very painful, and he’s died many times, including being tortured before death.

Misha is incredibly underrated??? like he’s done so many amazing things and isn’t really recognized for it. (credit: @winchestersingerautorepair)

Misha also is an amazing ally and or not straight (credit: @winchestersingerautorepair)

Cas has done so many things over the years and isn’t really credited for it.

I’m sure I’m forgetting a bunch of things, so feel free to reblog and add more

#misha is an angel #misha deserved so much better #cas deserved so much better #cas deserves love #misha is an icon #misha collins #supernatural #spn #destiel #castiel #spn discredited misha and cas #they should be honored #fuck cw #i love misha #misha #cas deserves to live #avocados-and-watermelon

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theinfinitybucky · 3 years

Text

The Inevitable Cold (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: The reader and Bucky had gotten together while he was on the run. After his surrender and his decision to go into cryo, the reader feel lost in the world without him and refuse to leave his side until he woke up. Shuri did her best to help you but all she wanted was her Bucky back

Warnings:

Length:

Masterlist

It had been a long few months since you had met Sergeant Bucky Barnes, or as the world called him, “The Winter Soldier”. Your sudden association with the soldier had changed your life forever. Becoming something, anything to a supposed mass murdered wasn’t positive in the public’s eyes and worse to the federal government. After you were photographed with while speaking with him in a nearby market, life changed as quickly as light switch turning on and off.

He was a quiet man and opened up to you slowly. It seemed that you learned new things about him every time you met in a coffee shop nearby where he was staying. After you had seen him in a coffee shop in Bucharest a few times, you were thrown into a narrative that you didn’t want to be a part of.

The days where you started off on the run were difficult. Never the less, you settled in. His soul was just as lost as your own when you had met him. You had spent your time after school floating through Europe trying to find yourself. Instead you found someone else.

The discourse happening within the Avengers team was essentially stirred by Bucky’s sheer presence. Or that it what you had told Steve when you first met him. This had nothing to do with the destruction of the cities which they saved. This was Tony declaring war for his parents, not the innocent lives lost as collateral.

Once the whirlwind of a battle past, you stood in a foreign place with brilliant white walls and the room was freezing. You waited for the only person that had ever been there for you. Bucky had succumbed to the inevitable cold of the cyro and even more so the will of Tony Stark.

So what had become of you in the past months? You had lost the first person who understood the odd workings of your cognition. He was still “alive” yet for all you knew it could be a century before he was awoken.

The best decision seemed to be to stay in Wakanda, where the world couldn’t find you. Also where you could be close to Bucky if it ever came to him waking up. Shuri did her best to make you feel better. She attempted to get you out of her lab. It never worked regardless. You continued to live at a minimum, slowly beating on.

The days changed at a inconceivably unhurried pace. They changed nonetheless and darker times fell in step. Words spread of a inter-galatic villain attempting to take over and destroy the universe through the use of the Infinity Stones. You lurked in the corners of rooms as you heard the news. A small glimmer of light was that the end of the long road you were going down.

Could this bring Bucky back?

And the answer ended up being yes. Shuri asked you to stay in your room until she was able to essentially resurrect him. She said you would be distracting during a potentially complicated process.

“Don’t leave you room,” T’Challa had iterated after Shuri’s request because of the unrest and daner which was going on outside. Before you exited the lab, Shuri let you know that she would send Bucky to your room before the battle. You simply nodded. You resigned to your room and paced nervously.

Hours past as the seconds ticked. You heard screams and yelling outside of your bullet proof window. A war raged outside, you just hoped it would end and things would go back to how they were before. You were lost in your own mind when the door to the room opened quickly.

You jumped up from your place in the arm chair. Bucky stood before you, looking the exact same as he had before he went to the cyro except his metal arm was attached. Before you could move to hug him, he already embraced you. Tears escaped through your eyes. Bucky held you as tight as he could. His warm body heating your frigid soul.

“I missed you.” He whispered into your ear. You couldn’t speak. You just wanted to be in his arms. He pulled back slightly to press a kiss to your lips. Intense and worrisome although passionate. He leaned his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured as he held you in his embrace still.

“I know.” You muttered into his chest. “It’s s’okay”

“I didn’t want to leave you.”

“I know.”

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