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Victoria doesn't really know what being touched is like, but that doesn't mean she hasn't thought about it. Tried to simulate it. Turned fantasies over and over in her head until she was disgusted with herself for wanting, for needing.

She's not even thinking about sex. Sometimes she doesn't know if she even cares about that. No, she... she closes her eyes, curls in on herself, fetal. Her hand rubs slowly, up and down her side to self-soothe— gentle touch. That's all she wants. All she fucking thinks about. Getting home to someone who doesn't expect anything of her, doesn't yell, doesn't make passive aggressive comments and try to frame them as well-meaning. Getting home to someone who cares.

Cassie McKay is the person in her fantasies 9 times out of 10. The tenth is faceless, for when she's too guilty about imagining Cassie. Imagining walking in Cassie's door, dropping her bag and slumping into a warm, firm embrace. Inhaling the scent of woodsy soap on the skin of her neck.

She's hugged Cassie before. A couple times. It's rare, the touch, but every scrap of gentleness she's ever gotten have been from those arms, those hands, that soft voice. Of course Victoria is addicted. How could she help that? How could she stop herself from aching and yearning and losing her mind over it? Every part of her feels starved, the stretch of her skin over her bones a dull pain she carries everywhere she goes.

Her fantasies are all she has. She knows Cassie would never. Never invite her home, like Victoria thinks about. Never kiss her slow, soft, even if it never led to anything. Never let Victoria sleep in her bed. Cassie is good. Victoria is not.

Victoria imagines skin, fingertips, palms. Imagines Cassie and her in boxers, nearly bare. Not sexual, just intimate. Cuddling up close, Victoria with her face in Cassie's neck, Cassie with her chin against the top of Victoria's head, occasionally pressing a kiss there. Something quiet, something simple.

Victoria imagines Cassie petting her, as if she's some stray puppy off the street. Imagines Cassie rubbing her back slow and firm, expert, murmuring a you're too tense, sweetheart, as she loosens Victoria up. And it'd be warm and safe and so fucking nice, Cassie with her sure hands, melting away her anxieties.

It'd feel so fucking good, just to slump into her. Victoria imagines it. Humming something soft and sleepy, nuzzling up a little closer, sighing out as her arm tucks around Cassie's waist, keeping them flush. Always close, kept and held. The drag of dull nails up and down her spine, or scratching gently at her scalp, making her gooey and soft. Making it easy to slip into sleep, for once, cradled in comfort.

In her fantasy that Victoria can't tell a soul about, Cassie is gently lifting her chin, cradling her cheek. Cassie is gazing into her eyes with an impossibly fond expression, like she's in love. Cassie is stroking her thumb against Victoria's cheekbone, tender, back and forth, back and forth. Cassie is kissing her forehead, the bridge of her nose, each delicate eyelid. Cassie is kissing the apples of her cheeks. Cassie is kissing along her jaw, the corner of her mouth, and then her lips— slow, careful. Cassie is pulling back and she's whispering I love you.

is god the cat that chases you for fun, someone who pretends benevolence, flicking you away only to sink teeth into your neck while you hold out a begging hand? a cat with a mouse in its mouth. i see, i see, i see. 

in thine eyes i saw god and not as the reflection of myself but something i can touch, something that dies— someone i can kill. someone i could love. these knees have dropped, on cold dirt ground, on wooden floor: century-old, on marble floors that make them ache. in thine hands, i’ve left my life and my heart, my soul that was drug back from hell. hands, eyes, smile, light. your wings i crushed like a cruel boy with a dragonfly at the onset of spring. lavender-scent, the smell of my mother’s perfume and it all reeks of a prayer that never ends. i need you, like the steady weight of a gun in my unsteady hands. like the clean water that washes off this blood off my hands yet never fully cleans it. not enough for absolution or forgiveness. i need you like the cedar brown drink. no, i needed you like it. now, i need you like the smell of fresh air on a sober morning. a thumb caressing my own on a winter evening and everything in between. 

if god was a cat with a mouse that he chooses to kill then i’m a vine, hugging you close in devotion, in ruination. trying to touch everything you and yet never being able to reach all of you. too less, too little to know you truly but never quittin’ the attempts. so, i will pray to you. the only true sign that god exists. his cruelty is proof enough but your unsmiling lips and your smiling eyes are a better proof of the fact that he was capable of beauty and he poured it all into you. the hands that are gentler than the light of the early morning sun, the voice that could make hell tremble and yet softly call my name. my name feels less like a punishment and more like a poem in your mouth. 

i can’t ever be good because i’m always tryin’ to be perfect and my brother’s little head that reached my knee, hugging my leg so close, i have to look up to see his eyes now. little-brother, not so little. if this hand had a weapon—no, this hand is the weapon and that means a weapon raised him and yet, his voice has a softer edge to it and i can’t ever fathom that. i’m always looking down, at the ground, at the barrel of a gun, at the bottom of a drink. searching for things that even a halo can’t illuminate and yet, i have to look up to talk to him. to know his goodness means to believe in my own, to see your holiness is to grasp your hands in mine. i will let myself be good, try to be good because i can’t ever be perfect. knowing that your heavenstring-cut hands will cradle this imperfect hands in your own. 

the shock still hasn’t worn off. i asked misha about bi buck after days. weeks. of talking about it as a hypothetical and i got the BEST answer ever and caused extreme disarray in the destiel fandom.

people in my discord group can attest how often i was like ‘ooh i hope someone asks misha in a panel this weekend.’ ‘maybe we can all go in on a cameo and ask him that way instead?’ i was pretty annoying about it, i just. i NEEDED TO ASK.

so i got to the con thinking if only i could ask a question. then i went to misha’s solo panel but didn’t line up for some reason and then by the end, i regretted it because there was no last question and even misha commented on it. i thought damn now i only have tomorrow’s panel to do it. but i wrote down my question anyways and i thought i’m already here, i have to at least TRY.

i complained to my mother about how i really wanted to ask a question, but no way could i tell her i wanted to ask about buck and tommy kissing and destiel. she doesn’t even know destiel is a thing and she would not approve if she did. but i went to the panel by myself, luckily she didn’t have a ticket to the con anyways so she just waited in the hotel lobby after checking out (which was her choice. she listened to misha’s first panel on saturday from outside the room and didn’t want to sit through one again)

anyways so i go to the tomer/karen panel that was before his panel, and i’m on the right side right at the back, the complete opposite side where the people who ask questions are. then towards the end of that panel i move to the left side. i’m still at the back but i’m at the end of the row so i can easily move when i need to. then when the panel ends i go to ask a person who works at the con about asking a question. she says there are still people who didn’t get to ask their questions yesterday so they get priority, and the rest aren’t lining up yet. now i’m pretty confused because there was a distinct lack of questions at the end yesterday but whatever.

so i go to sit back down but there’s a line of people right where the question line was on saturday, so i join it thinking just in case she was wrong. well more people start to line up and she says ‘nobody is lining up to ask yet!!’ and i’m like okay so it’s fine, we really aren’t going yet.

then i sit back down and a few minutes later i see her directing like 4 or 5 people onto seats after she raises a paper saying ‘reserved for questions’ or something like that. so i think okay it’s my chance. i go up and she directs me into these seats that are closer to the front and is filled with like TEN people who are sitting in that ‘reserved for questions’ section. i think oh my god. there are so many people here. i text the discord saying ‘IM IN THE LINE.’

then the panel starts and i’m like okay well i’m towards the end and i’m close to the front now, i’ll take some pics. and as people ask their questions and sit in their original seats, we have to keep moving along the row of seats so we keep getting closer to the middle near the mic.

but then there’s half an hour and one of the people working for the con comes and says to the girl after me in the queue and the people behind her that they weren’t gonna get to ask. she tells the people at the front of the queue ‘i think just the first few of you will get to ask’ - at this point i’m like the 5th/6th in line (after the person at the mic and the person waiting behind them) so i’m not very optimistic at all. and then.

so i tell my discord ‘yeah i don’t think i’m gonna get to ask’ because i’m still pretty far from the end by the mic.

and then the panel goes on and there ends up being two people, one at the mic, one standing behind them. and one of the people working for the con tells me, THE NEXT PERSON IN LINE, ‘sorry, you won’t get to ask.’ and i am DEVASTATED. i tell the discord ‘yeah i’m definitely not gonna ask.’

i’m thinking I SERIOUSLY just wasted this whole panel shuffling seats and worrying for nothing (i had also just left my bag with all my stuff on a random seat!) so i sit there annoyed and sad for a minute until i see sean (the con organiser) by the stage and he tells her that i can go up last i guess. so she comes up to me and tells me i will be up next and to stand behind the people at the mic and i’m SHAKING.

i get in the line and i text on the discord that i’m the last question.

then i stand there listening to the questions before me just thinking oh my god misha is right there and i’m gonna be the last question and oh my god it’s gonna be such a good question. because i saw how much chaos misha caused with his questions on saturday and in this panel i don’t think anyone asked about destiel. so i thought!!! this is gonna be good!!!

and then i get to the mic and they’re all on stage and sean is next to it and says it’s the last question so it’s gotta be a good one. and then alex and rob and misha are all like oohhh it’s the last question but then MISHA. FUCKING. comes off the stage and comes up to me holding the mic and is two feet from me and looks me in the eyes and says ‘don’t fuck it up.’ but i’m like it’s on my phone! i got it written down! and well you’ve all seen the pictures of him looking right into my eyes but i’ll show you again.

so the first two four of these next photos we were making eye contact. i remember when he came up to me i was looking at all the lines on his face thinking man he’s so pretty and he’s right in front of me what the fuck.

but in these last two i wasn’t looking at him. he was just looking at me. which is just insane to see in retrospect.

after this i think he went back to the stage and i was like okay this last question is for misha and he cheered i guess. i think i blacked out tbh.

now when he got back to the stage i think this was when rob started singing the last question song because i remember thinking like damn i need to ask this question before i cry or something. misha was just standing there and looking at me - from the stage this time and i was. freaking out.

after that singing was done i said ‘this question is kinda about destiel, just to warn you in advance.’ and then apparently rob said ‘perfect last question’ and i started asking my question.

i started with saying ‘so there’s this show called 911’ and SO many people started cheering. i was immediately so much more comfortable because i could tell people would know where this was going. especially when after i carried on with: ‘it moved networks from fox to abc in it’s 7th season. and there’s a main character named buck who in the 4th episode kissed another man’ and then people started cheering AGAIN.

and anyways you all know the rest by now. i said ‘the actor who played him reported that they wanted to do something like it earlier in the show, but when they moved networks they were allowed to make it happen. if supernatural moved networks earlier on, or if it was made later on, do you think something like that could have happened with dean and cas?’

and we ALL know misha’s reply by now. ‘if the cw wasn’t so homophobic, dean and cas would have been balls deep for sure.’ i vividly remember being like OH MY GOD (in my head) and then i put my head in my hands a little and apparently. so did misha. which is to be expected i mean that was wild.

after that he said he was gonna actually give a semi earnest answer and said some things that are shown in these tweets. i remember bits and pieces because i was trying to hold eye contact with misha but i occasionally looked down and played with the mic a little but didn’t want to seem too uninterested. i loved his answer. the thread in this tweet has the general gist of it.

and if you wanna see the question i had written down and open on my phone, which i edited RIGHT before the panel as you can see from the timestamp (don't judge me for the second question it was just a backup) and a picture of misha looking at my phone. here it is.

My favorite part of this was Misha saying "it shouldn't be brave. It should be normal. The fact that we're having a conversation about it is indicative of the fact that we have a long way to go." He's right and he should say it.

Misha Collins, Mashed, 2/9/2022:

He clearly had some insight into Dean that came out intermittently I just thought it was Instincts he had because he'd internalised Dean so much but didn't actually understand what he was saying, stuck in ol' "oh haha Dean is a stupid repressed child who only likes guns" mindset

Turns out WE'RE the fools and Jensen's been playing us ALL

when do you think he took up plans to take over SPN himself? I honestly think it's when they decided to end SPN at S15 and talks about how they should end the story were going on and they had to send him to KRIPKE of all people

Yeah its wild. I would love for him (with Misha's help) to write a tell all book one day.

I feel like jackles has been a far better actor than we all gave him credit for. He has always been very switched on to fandom, he knew about the warring sides, the hate and the bullshit, and I reckon he was being told for years by his bosses to always keep all sides of fandom happy and to play his damn role at all times (ironically just like how Chuck ordered Dean to play his role - life imitates art too often in this fucking show its almost scary). Hence why he's insights into Dean often came across contradictory and odd. Sometimes he had beautiful accurate insights which make total sense, and other times (usually in j2 panels) he'd regress back to the "haha dean just likes guns and girls like a macho man should".

We will never truly know what went on behind the scenes following the moment j2m announced s15 was the end (unless jackles writes that book) so its hard to truly speculate when jackles decided to take things into his own hands, but I also believe it was around about the time they planned the finale and everyone was kissing jarpiss's asshole and jackles was left in the cold to stare down a shitty death scene he didnt agree with. Going to kripke was prob the final straw for him.

He was gaslit into thinking that ending was okay, and whenever he tried to question it he was told to sit down shut up and do what he was told, all the while watching his manchild tantrum throwing drama queen of a costar get his dick sucked by the entire production team for coughing a few times and puffing out his chest and singing the praises of a finale that pushed the spotlight firmly on him and his cop propaganda show.

So yeah, jackles was done dirty, and so he became That Bitch and started making plans. He had the production company set up only days after the finale aired, turned off his social media and refused to be involved in any spn finale celebratory CW PR (absolute King Shit)

I think he started making calls before they even finished filming. Dean wasnt even cold on the ground before The Winchesters had been dreamed up as a way to bring him back. Jackles rare few post finale SM posts all alluded to Dean returning again. He knew what he was doing.

At the same time he was ghosting the manchild, and planning to move his family to Colorado to get away from him. After SPN finally wrapped in mid 2020, him and Jarpiss went their separate ways. They barely spoke after that. Jackles was setting in motion all his plans to fix everything that he considered a personal afront to him (because he is absolutely deranged and literally possessed by the ghost of Dean Winchester) and those plans certainly involve fixing the ending somehow - in a way that isnt obvious no doubt, because he still has to be careful and at least pretend like he respects the ending and his egotistical douchebag of a costar (though he hasn't been doing a very good job of either tbh!)

lord help me 😩

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