Just Misha

in which dean and cas have a massive miscommunication (M, 1.3k)

“Oh. Hello, Dean,” Cas says, back still to Dean. “Was that acceptable, or do you need another?” “Dude, what?” Dean’s brain is filled with static. He can’t form a single coherent thought. He can’t take his eyes off of Cas, naked, in the flesh. “You… you sent me an ass pic!”

Extra Extra! Read all about it! The first annual Fluffstiel Bang will open within the next couple of weeks!

What is fluffstiel you may ask? Destiel fluff! What's a bang you also may ask? I mean, this must be your first time in a fandom space on the Internet, so... ask a friend. I don't have that kind of time.

The Fluffstiel Bang is a mini-bang challenge that is, you guessed it, predominantly fluff. It can be canon, AU, whatever the heck you want, but it has to be fluffy, and Destielly. Authors will have a minimum word count of 5,000. Artists will create one piece of original artwork and one banner inspired by the fic they are paired with.

Author and Artist Sign-Ups open August 1st!

Angel of Tears and Solitude

Read below or HERE on AO3

It’s the middle of the night when Castiel gets home.

Home .

He sits in his car for a very long time at the thought of that, unsure if it’s accurate. The bunker has been his home for a while now. Dean was his home before that. Now, he’s not sure if either belong to him anymore.

It’s heartbreaking, but it’s his reality, and there are more pressing matters at hand. He rubs at his eyes just in case there’s some grief lingering there. They’ve been burning with it all day. Ever since that phone call. Thankfully, it hasn’t created tears. Not yet.

With a deep sigh to steady himself, Castiel climbs out of his vehicle and heads toward the door. He straightens his trench coat. Adjusts his tie. Runs a trembling hand through his hair. Adjusts his tie again. Realizes it’s backwards. Thinks of Dean fixing it all those years ago. Smiles to himself. Rubs at his burning eyes. Gives up on the tie and pulls his keys out instead.

His key still works, something that brings him an overwhelming amount of relief. He gently opens the door, not wanting to wake Sam and Dean, and slips inside. After the door is locked back up behind him, he makes his way down the stairs and into the main area of the bunker. Nothing has changed. It’s as if he was away for a few days looking into a spell for Rowena or finding a certain angel with key information, now coming back home where he belongs. He would wake up early and cook the boys breakfast. Make them coffee. Let Dean sleep in, because the man deserves it. Do the crossword with Sam in the meantime.

Instead, Castiel thinks it’ll be best if he just hides out in the morning. Wakes up after they’ve all gotten on with their day. Hopefully come across Sam first, because Sam will know how to soften the blow of Dean’s reaction.

Sam’s always been good at that.

“Hello.”

Castiel stumbles to a stop, his hand going to his chest as he turns toward the sound of a distinct voice he could place anywhere. His eyes bulge when he takes in the woman sitting at the map table. “Eileen?”

She smiles. “Yes. Castiel, right?”

“Right. You - it’s,” Castiel walks closer, narrowing his eyes as he waits for a flicker or a mist of cold air. “You’re dead.”

“Not anymore.” She shrugs as if that’s normal. Well, in this life, Castiel supposes that it sort of is. “Sam found a spell Rowena was working on. I didn’t think it would work, but here I am.”

“Here you are. Wow. That’s great.” Castiel matches Eileen’s grin, trying to force his darker thoughts aside. It’s great. It really is. It’s just… Eileen may not have been the person Castiel would have wanted to bring back. Not if this was the spell Rowena explained to him a few weeks ago. Not if this was a one time chance.

Maybe Jack and Rowena wouldn’t have worked, their supernatural powers getting in the way, but Castiel can think of one human he’d do anything to bring back. Someone who could maybe fix everything. Well, almost everything. Mary Winchester wouldn’t be able to bring Jack back, but maybe if Castiel were to get his mother back for him, Dean would forgive him. Maybe even love him again.

It was a long shot, but it was a hope.

Castiel feels like a monster for such thoughts.

“Castiel?”

Castiel startles, having forgotten Eileen was there. “Sorry. Yes?”

“I was just saying I’m glad you’re back home. Dean has missed you.”

“He - I -” Castiel swallows thickly, eyes burning. Gosh… he wishes they would stop burning. “Dean what?”

“He’s missed you. Sam’s been worried sick. All Dean does is sleep, eat, and watch reruns of TV. Won’t get out of his pajamas. Won’t talk about anything. He wouldn’t even go with Sam to find the spell at Rowena’s place.”

“I’m sure he’s having a hard time knowing Chuck is back.”

“No.” Eileen gives him a knowing smile. “Sam was very specific when he explained things. He said, ‘Dean hasn’t been okay since Cas left,’ which, if I understand correctly, was before he found out Chuck was back.”

Castiel shifts awkwardly. “He’s been grieving his mother. And Jack. Trust me, the problem is not with me being gone.”

“Whatever you say.” She stands up, bringing her empty glass with her. Just before leaving for the kitchen, she pauses, looking over at Castiel with a shake of her head. “The two of you… I swear. The world is ending, and you still can’t figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Goodnight, Castiel.”

Castiel furrows his eyebrows, looking down at the floor. “Yes. Goodnight, Eileen.”

Once Castiel hears Eileen put the glass by the sink and walk down the hall - to Sam’s bedroom, interestingly enough - Castiel begins his own journey to bed. He’s exhausted physically and mentally. The idea of his bed makes him nearly groan in pleasure. It took forever for him to find the right mattress - memory foam, because as Dean pointed out, ‘who the hell doesn’t want their bed to remember them?’, but the kind that has cooling gel in it, because sometimes Castiel gets too warm at night. To find the right pillows - not too hard, but not too soft either, the perfect balance so when he lays on his stomach and sprawls out, his neck doesn’t hurt in the morning. To find the right sheets - the satiny kind that feel so amazing against his bare skin, especially after a round of making love with Dean, when his senses are heightened. To find the right blankets - a goose down duvet with a light gray linen cover, an olive green chunky knitted throw folded on the end that reminds Castiel of Dean’s eyes on a summer day, when the sun is shining in them.

Jody’s spare bed was comfortable, and the bed at the cabin he had been renting was adequate, but Castiel’s bed in the bunker is better than heaven - something he can attest to for certain.

That’s why it takes Castiel a second too long to realize something is off when he steps into his bedroom. He was so focused on his excitement to finally be back in his bed that he wasn’t aware someone was in it already. Someone who has been in it many nights before. Someone Castiel truly believed would never be in it again.

Castiel strips slowly, his hands trembling. His trench coat. Then his suit jacket. His tie. His dress shirt. He steps forward as his fingers work his belt. It lands on the floor beside Dean’s cell phone. When he sheds his pants, they pool atop Dean’s hotdog pajamas. Castiel pauses to smile at the sight of them. He had gotten them for Dean last Christmas. The man had grumbled about how they were childish and ridiculous. Apparently someone missed him enough not to care.

That does things to Castiel that he can’t explain.

Just as he slides into the bed, about to reach over for the remote to turn the TV off that Dean must have fallen asleep watching, Dean stirs.

“Cas-?” Dean asks in a groggy but hopeful voice.

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean’s cheeks burn red and he closes his eyes. “Sorry. Couldn’t sleep, ‘n it smells like you here.”

Feeling his heart both break and repair at the same time, Castiel brushes a strand of hair off of Dean’s forehead and nods in understanding. “It’s okay, Dean.”

Then he lays himself down, getting comfortable beside the man he loves. It isn’t until he pulls Dean to his chest, cradling him gently, that Dean manages to speak again. “Should go. ‘M mad at you.”

“I’m mad at you, too,” Castiel says, the words sounding like an apology and an accusation rolled in one. “Go to sleep, Dean. We’ll be mad at each other tomorrow.”

As if the weight of the world lifts off of him, Dean releases a deep sigh and goes lax in Castiel’s arms. The only thing still tensed is his hands, which are digging viciously into Castiel’s back, making it clear he’s not allowed to go anywhere.

Castiel doesn’t plan on it. There’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. This is home. This is where he belongs.

This was jensen's reaction when the fan asked what crazy things have you done to each other 😜😜😜

© FangasmSPN

Calling all Destiel artists, gif makers and video creators!

One day, @hawkland and @friendofcarlotta were commiserating about how reverse bangs often were full of wonderfully creative AU ideas and scenarios, but it was hard to do them proper justice in the short writing period, and low word count, typically given for reverse bangs. So, we decided to try to launch a reverse Big Bang to fill that void!

Stories & art for this event must be focused on the relationship between Dean and Castiel in some romantic, sexual, or queerplatonic fashion that would qualify as more than simple friendship (ie, you would tag the story and/or art with a “/” and not a “&” on Archive of Our Own). Aro/ace readings of the characters are of course welcome!

Story minimum length requirement: 10,000 words

Art requirement per collaboration: 2 full illustrations or equivalent graphic/video works (For video submissions, 30 seconds per piece or one minute entirety. For gifset submissions, a minimum of 3 gifs per set, 6 in total.)

Banner/title art: Required from artist. (Can be just a crop/edit of the original piece submitted for claims.)

Full rules can be found here, along with the event schedule.

Oh I know who they are. Misha does too.

They're also the ones who like to make the fandom think they're friends with Misha and who never miss a photo opp.

fan tweets from Soulcycle for Out Youth and Random Acts with Jensen and Danneel (Sep 15, 2018)

https://twitter.com/lindieface/status/1041091537097183233

https://twitter.com/Iifeinpink/status/1041074134153920512 https://twitter.com/Iifeinpink/status/1041099524025069568 https://twitter.com/Iifeinpink/status/1041076950138343425 https://twitter.com/Iifeinpink/status/1041079849975201793

https://twitter.com/softdmitri/status/1041076910795698176 https://twitter.com/softdmitri/status/1041096003498270720

https://twitter.com/amysbacknaustin/status/1041150471765983233

https://twitter.com/AbiChristineee/status/1041121911764410368

https://twitter.com/redd_vt/status/1041128535908343809

I don't know how "obscure" it is, but something that I hardly ever see people talk about, but something that makes me lose my got-damn-mind whenever I think about it too long, is something that Jensen once said at a con. I can't remember if it was the one in Hawaii or maybe it was a JIB a few years back, but he said that he and Misha would often go for drives together between shoots, and that was "their time" to talk and get really deep about things.

Just think about that for a second ... think about the reality of that situation ... Jensen and Misha, just driving around on their own so they can talk deeply and intimately and quietly without the craziness of the set, without the chaos of filming (and without Jared's constant bull-in-a-china-shop mentality). They would seek out that tranquility together and get away from it all. I mean ... do you understand how "coupley" that is? Do you get how close they'd have to be for that to be something they'd do on the regular? And to think ... now they're so far apart and can't go on their drives anymore ...

I am crying.