The spin-off we deserved

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The spin-off we deserved
đ¨đťâđđ¨đťâđŤđđđ Destiel
Castiel spends the morning collecting chairs from around the school. Ones that are more suitable for adults than the miniature ones for his second grade class.Today was career day, and the kids were bringing in their parents and family members to talk about their jobs. Thereâs a great turnout every year, and Castiel expects the same this year.
Heâs right, of course. For his class of twenty, there are nearly thirty adults crowding into his classroom. Castielâs already met a good number of the people here from back to school night or conferences, but there a couple he doesnât know.
Like the freckled man with green eyes who looks absolutely stunning in his firefighter gearâŚ
But his classroom is no time to flirt or ogle the handsome man, so Castiel concentrates on running career day and helping his students ask questions
Finally, though, itâs the freckled manâs turn. He heads up front with Bobby Winchester, and Castiel tries to remember what he knows about the Winchesters. Heâs met Bobbyâs mom Eileen on a number of occasions, but he canât recall meeting his dad. Though he supposes if the manâs a firefighter, his schedule might not allow it.
âThis is my uncle Dean,â Bobby starts, and Castiel canât help but breathe out a sigh of relief. âHeâs a firefighter, which is really cool. Sometimes he lets me visit and ride the fire truck or slide down the pole. Any questions?â Bobby looks eagerly at his classmates.
Krissy raises her hand and Bobby points to her. âWhy didnât you bring your dad?â
âBecause my dadâs a lawyer and thatâs boring!â Bobby says like itâs obvious. âFirefighters are way cooler than lawyers.â
âSmart kid, ainât he?â Dean says with a wink and the adults laugh.Â
The kids keep going with their questions, which Dean answers wonderfully. He talks about how scary it is to go into a burning building, but how heâs glad to be able to help people. He talks about the training he does, and the activities the firefighters do when theyâre waiting for a call. And then he ends by talking about the importance of calling 911 if thereâs a fire at their home and that they should keep a fire extinguisher in the kitchen just in case. All the students nod along solemnly.
âSo⌠thatâs about it. Any final questions?â
âYou single?â calls Mrs. Tran from the back. âAsking for a friend.â
Dean blushes and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. âUh, I am, but uh-â
âWhatâs your type? You like blue-eyed men with dark, messy hair?â
Castielâs heart skips a beat. Oh no. This isnât the first time Mrs. Tran has tried to set him up with someone, though normally itâs with the single parents throughout the school.Â
âUhhâŚâ Deanâs blush has gone from light pink to beet red.
âThat sounds like Mr. Novak,â Bobby says helpfully. Then the boyâs eyes light up. âYou should date Mr. Novak! Youâre always complaining that there are âno good menâ but Mr. Novakâs good.â
âOh my god, youâre as bad as your dad!â Dean whines, trying to usher Bobby back to his seat. He gives an apologetic look to Castiel. âSorry, man, I didnât mean to disrupt your whole lesson with this.â
The day keeps going, and itâs not until the end when the adults are enjoying some refreshments that Castiel gets a chance to talk to Dean.Â
âSorry about that,â Dean says as soon as he sees Castiel approaches. âThe kid really knows how to embarrass me. I swear, heâs just like his dad at that age.â
Castiel laughs. âI donât mind. Itâs not the first time Mrs. Tran has tried that, and Iâm plenty used to Bobbyâs outbursts.â
âAh.â Dean looks down at his lemonade as he continues. âSo uh⌠how come Mrs. Tranâs matchmaking efforts havenât worked out yet?â
âWell, up until today, I was convinced she had no idea what my type was, but-â
âIâm your type?â Dean interrupts.
Whoops, did he really say that? âUhhh-â
âBecause for the record, youâre totally my type too.â
The next year at career day, Castiel arrives late looking particularly disheveled, with messy hair and lips plump from kissing. After all the kids talk about their parents and family members, Castiel beams as he points to the firefighter sitting in the back of the room. He throws Cas a kiss as he introduces him.
âClass, please welcome my husband, Firefighter Dean, whoâs going to talk about his job with you.â
send me 3-5 emojis and iâll write you a ficlet about themÂ
I guess if anyone would know that itâs JensenâŚ
Am I the only one who is concerned that when Supernatural ends so will the fandom and the fics? Like I know this is a very popular fandom and destiel is an incredibly popular ship, but like, I worry that eventually it'll die off and I'm very much not ready for that. This fandom has been such a big portion of my life for YEARS now and I don't know what I'll do when there aren't fics to read or episodes to talk about or people to talk about it with. It honestly makes me anxious.
i do wonder about the fate of the fandom after the show ends. thereâs understandably going to be a drop in âparticipationâ (however you define it) once the show ends, because there isnât anything new to inspire gif makers, meta writers, artists, and writers. my dash is always more active on the evening thereâs a new episode, and in the days following. itâs a natural connection between the two.Â
does that make me think that itâll die off completely once the show ends? not really?Â
plenty of fandoms exist around an IP thatâs not actively producing ânewâ content. though it might take some adjusting as the fandom figures out what to do with themselves without the show. itâll shrink, but there will still be people there to interact with. people will still love the show and want to engage with the story, even if theyâre not airing new episodes. admittedly, it wonât be as easy as it is right now.
but if youâre concerned, please support your content creators!! reblogs and comments etc are a great way to show that YOU are there, and they're not just making stuff for an empty void. thereâs still a community if ppl continue to make a community. i think that goes hand in hand with the life of a fandom - if itâs just a couple ppl making stuff for each other, it only has so much longevity, yâknow?Â
Alright, as a Fandom Oldâ˘, let me explain how this works.
End of parent content does not end fandom or fanwork creation. In some ways, end of parent content is liberating because now you have free reign with that world. Itâs yours. Theyâve let go of it, and you can clutch it to your chest and run off giggling madly because you have so many plans for it.
And, yes, you are correct to think end of parent content will impact the creation of new content. It will, but it will not end it.
The anime Gundam Wing, which was my first fandom, aired in 1995. That was 25 years ago. Six new fics were posted on AO3 just yesterday.
Letâs go further back! The movie Labyrinth came out in 1986. 34 years ago. Three fics were posted/updated on AO3 yesterday.
Those are pretty niche fandom, though, so letâs go with something more mainstream people are familiar with.
Harry Potter by JK Rowling. Despite all the controversy and backlash with the creator, the content is still beloved by many.
Deathly Hallows was published 13 years ago. DH: Part 2 was released almost a decade ago. I had to click through thirteen pages on AO3 to get past the fics that were posted or updated-- so far-- today.
Now! Hereâs the thing! People who leave fandom are more likely to be consumers of fanwork content, because theyâre reading other things or widening their range of interests.
Fanwork creators only invest their time and energy into things that are fun and make them happy. They do not stick around in toxic fandoms. Itâs why people leave before the show even ends and starts making content that makes them happy elsewhere. (*waves*)
As it is before the end of parent content, so it is after the end of parent content: you have to properly feed and water your fanwork creators if you want them to thrive. Otherwise, they go somewhere where they can get poured into just as much as they pour themselves out.
You canât pour from an empty pitcher.
The creation of fan content is much more reliant on other fans than it is of the parent content.
Fanfic is, after all, transformative works. Itâs building off of parent content or outright ignoring it to make it your own. Itâs birthed from the parent content, but relies on others care and keeping to keep it alive.
The well-being of a fandom relies on the fandom.Â
Thank you Supernatural
For 15 years of laugh
15 years of tears
15 years of epic love
15 years of Sam and Dean
Youâll forever have a special place in my heart â¤ď¸
Some other not so cocklesy Cockles but still beautiful moments from sdcc.
X
*Updated with 2 gifs I forgot to post , please reblog this one
Catching rain drops
me and my mutuals looking at each other liking each others posts knowing were both online at unholy hours of the night
They spent Christmas hunting a shtriga outside Syracuse. It was a white Christmas, of course. Not that Sam expected anything else: Somehow, Dean always made sure to scrounge up hunts in snowy areas around the holidays.
âLooks like another white Christmas,â Dean said, looking outside the hotel window with a smug grin.
âYou sure called it,â replied Sam, rolling his eyes.
âMe ân Cas are going out for eggnog. Can you believe heâs never had eggnog? Heathen.â Dean shook his head in mock disapproval and cast a quick glance out the still open door, where the angel loitered like a lost puppy. âYou in?âÂ
âIâll pass,â sighed Sam as he plopped down on the bed, not bothering to remove his blood-spattered boots. âHave fun. Bottoms up.â
Grinning, Dean nodded and trudged outside, back into the bitter cold.
Despite all the snow and chill, Dean hadnât come back to the hotel that night. It wasnât the first time that had happened, of course; in fact, itâd become something of a habit. Sam never asked what Dean and Cas did together. Probably just stared into each otherâs eyes all night, with a side order of not talking about their feelings. Ugh. Those two. Emotionally-constipated morons.
For his part, Sam surfed through some bad Christmas movies, halfheartedly jerked himself off to sleep and did not call Amelia, no matter how badly he wanted to. Â
The next morning, Sam woke up grumpy and cold. Deanâs bed was still empty, which only made Sam grumpier. And their hotel room was out of coffee, which officially made this the worst Christmas ever.
Sam grabbed the keys and stumbled out the door. The nearest Dunkin Donuts was five miles back toward the interstate, and at this time of day, it was probably slammed. Great. Just great.
It wasnât until he was right in front of the Impala that he noticed the tie.
Snow-dusted and frost-stiff, it was looped around the back-seat door handle like a sock. It waved a little in the chill morning breeze, thunking dully against the Impala.Â
Sam felt his face grow hot.
Then he started to notice the letters. âCâ and âDâ traced into the driversâ side window. The little heart smudged next to it. And handprints. Everywhere handprints, even in places where it was physically and anatomically impossible to place handprints.
And one large print that was definitely not made by hands.
Goddammit.
With a deep breath, Sam steeled himself and peered into the car.
The backseat was a tangle of limbs and clothes and hair. Sam could make out only the half of Deanâs face; the rest lay buried under a forest of dark hair. A certain pale and lean and very, very naked angel butt jutted toward the car roof.
Sam made a choking, animal sound. Â This was his home, man. It was like heâd caught his brother fucking around in his childhood bed. Hell, this was his childhood bed. He raised his fist to pound on the window and wake both these assholes up and give them a piece of his mind.
As if on cue, Dean opened one bleary eye. Noticing Sam standing outside the window, he blinked once, twice, and then grinned lazily at his brother.Â
âSeriously?â Sam scowled at Dean. âWhat the hell, man?â
Dean lifted his hand from its perch on Casâs naked ass and gave his brother the thumbs up.
âBottoms up,â he mouthed at Sam.
Sam growled and stomped back to the hotel and didnât talk to either of them for the rest of the day.
Day Eleven, ââŚSeriously?â
Ok friends!
Since this is a first for me (being excited about Christmas) I want to do something nice for you guys.
So here's the thing, reblog this with a number from one to ten. At the end of the night before my son goes to bed, l will have him pick a number between 1 and 10. Whoever matches the number he picks will get a Holliday ficlet of your choice âď¸đ
5 times cas touches dean to heal him + 1 time he doesnât
10 straight minutes of Dean and Cas staring at each other. Ten. solid. minutes. And thereâs actually some they missed (ie. at least one stare has been trimmed a bit - yeah, I know which one, donât judge meh because I know youâll spot it, too), so theyâve been doing this shit way more than this, even.
HAPPY COCKLES CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
It wonât protect you from me.
re:Â âGolden Timeâ as a title
âThe golden hour, also known as golden time, is the period of time following a traumatic injury during which there is the highest likelihood that prompt medical and surgical treatment will prevent death.â [Wikipedia.]
For as awkward as that phone call scene was, I canât help but think the title of this ep is referencing that. Because, note: it doesnât say bring the dead back to life - it says PREVENT DEATH. Something in this episode prevented a death of something else. Now what do you suppose that could be?
Iâm saying the breakup was a traumatic injury for Dean that is essentially slowly killing him and getting to talk to Cas helped pull him back from the brink. Thatâs what Iâm saying. - Oh, but it also totally helped get Dean off the bench to go literally save Samâs actual life, but Iâve heard it both ways.
Are the writers just fucking kidding, now? Good LORD.
yâall iâm sorry but cas taking multiple bullets like theyâre just a minor inconvenience, punching that guyâŚ. and then stabbing him a little too muchâŚ.