#I was like 'why doesn't she think this is a PDF when the actual file name has PDF in it' and then I realized she didn't look at the name

[tomato-greens]

did my student...think...because I wrote (text) after a document as opposed to (video) or (audio)...that it was an RTF or TXT file....

[cripplecharacters]

Hello. I am writing about a main character who has Down syndrome (12 years old). How does a child like her would react to mother death and moving to an old house? I want to be respectful while writing her.

Hi asker,

So there are a couple different things to think about.

For one, death of a loved one is hard for everyone, and the death of a parent is very difficult for pretty much all children. Change is hard, and this is a very permanent change that can be very traumatic because a person a kid expects to be with for way more time is now gone. The closer the child was to her mother, the harder this is going to be for her.

On change being hard, ID can make it harder for her to adapt to change. "Harder" does not mean "impossible." "Harder" means maybe they have to make a plan to help her transition to her new living space, maybe it needs to be explained to her more often, things like that. Maybe she needs support from lots of visuals, maybe she's asking questions a lot of the time, maybe she has trouble with doing things because of the stress. And this is from just the change of moving – all of this will likely be compounded with the stress of not having her mother. For this, people can try to help her by trying to provide as much of a sense of normalcy and trying to make sure she can have some sort of... it doesn't have to be a routine per se, just trying to make sure that some things don't change.

Abstract concepts are sometimes hard for kids, although less so by age 12 than for younger children. Abstract concepts can also be more difficult for people with intellectual disability (as is likely the case for your character with Down Syndrome). So, how is the death explained to her?

Best practice to explain death to children, including and especially kids with I/DD, is to use concrete and simple language. Euphemisms don't help much, especially for children, because euphemisms have context behind them that a child doesn't have. Euphemisms can also be misunderstood and unclear.

So, if she actually understands what's going on because people are explaining things to her in a way she can understand, ultimately this is going to be much better for her than if she doesn't understand that her mother isn't coming back because people keep being vague and saying things like "she's in a better place" and she keeps hoping to join her mom in this "better" place. Or it might take some time for her to understand the situation, and she might experience delayed grief.

Who is she moving with? Who is going to take care of her — she's a kid, she can't do it all by herself. Does she know them already? Is she just meeting them? If she's never met them before, this will probably be even more stressful to her — basically every single thing in her life is changing. That's huge. That's stressful and can be hard for her to understand why everything is different.

Overall, at the end of the day she's just a person, a child specifically, being put in an incredibly difficult situation. She has emotions like anyone else — there is a misconception that people with Down Syndrome are always happy, and that's just not true. They have

She's in a situation where adults with zero disabilities would probably have a super rough time as well. Add on to that being a kid, and add on to that being intellectually disabled, and it's probably going to be a really stressful situation. So, think about how your character reacts when she's stressed out, and factor in her disability.

Here's some links to grief and I/DD and grief and children. I have read through them, though not all of them at length. They do have information that you can use, whether on how she'd react or how others around her could react, but either way use your own judgement.

Helping People With Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities Process Grief by the Boggs Center on Developmental Disabilities (PDF file)

Responding to Grief Reactions of People with Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities by the Boggs Center on Developmental Disabilities (PDF File)

Bereavement In The Lives Of People With Intellectual Disabilities by the University of Hertfordshire's website on Intellectual Disability and Health

Managing Grief Better: People with Intellectual Disabilities by the University of Hertfordshire's website on Intellectual Disability and Health

Helping People With Intellectual Disabilities Cope With Loss by the Vanderbilt Kennedy Center (PDF File)

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

[supergoopersworld]

This post assumes you know the basics by now Part 2

Welcome back sickos (quikos?). Since I already covered the time constraints, team management and compensation aspect of the Flowergothic saga, we are moving on to what is unmistakably the core of the nontroversy.

As I wrote previously, there's no denying there was an at least platonic aspect to this whole thing from Julia's part, the two drunken love confessions appear in the last 5 or so pages if you want to see them in context. The stalking happened in Twitter and no party has come forward to either prove or disprove it.

Let's get some facts straight. Julia ended her video about working for Quinton saying that the partnership ended for very personal reasons she wasn't comfortable disclosing. It isn't a reach to assume those reasons are why Quinton decides to start his response the way he did and by the end of it he spins the whole narrative around to being unable to trust collaborators in fear they may want to get too personal. Yeah, let's say I could write a frigging essay about my problems with his response.

So Julia complains she was told she was a friend but was never treated as such and in the context of the chat logs I can see what actually happened.

Quinton pretty much friend zoned a woman he wasn't even friends with. He calls her a friend in order to defuse her advances without having to say no directly and let's just say when he opens his bulleted list to reject her with "I saw it coming" I was like no shit.

If you were to open the PDF file and just speedrun it without skipping pages you would see a good deal of pages are Julia selfies fishing for compliments.

If you were to see more carefully you would see the many virtual hugs, I like yous and looking cute todays.

So maybe you are thinking, maybe Quinton is just keeping it professional right? Nope, he proceeds to vent about his own problems because his Discord server isn't enough.

It seems this Flowergothic person actually overplayed the supportive friend role for Quinton, huh? Honestly is kind of concerning on both ends specially at the point Julia starts posting fan reactions and comments for iBinged iCarly in order to cheer him up.

So let's move to how this contrasts with some of her complaints about Quinton not accommodating her emotional needs she has mentioned on Twitter, TikTok and YouTube for over a year. Including her editing duties were also affecting her own channel (mainly her video on the Duggar family), opening up about dealing with her own KF thread and having to deal directly with an iCarly episode that reminded her of trauma.

That would be iHurt Lewbert.

Here's a TikTok that acts as a pretty grounded summary of things from her perspective with evidence.

Remember that the stalker narrative depends on a Twitter exchange we can't verify because Quinton softblocked her and according to him he doesn't have it either yet he has the screen caps he showed in his response. He only has the messages right after the Discord conversation ends when Julia was very civil, then says she became very aggressive and then has his evidence to prove it.

Truth be told I think he is owed as much scepticism as Julia faced, because this became a big game of he said, she said. Specially because people started throwing SH accusations for what’s in the same league as Quinton's very own DM humiliation a couple of years back.

Just remember one of the opening lines of the response is "I was hoping this was going to go away by ignoring it".

Here's the Drive link so you can come to your own conclusions: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1b3-rLmMYK7EFMFsA4aNITLKgtH6ILWeB

[brehaaorgana]

It really doesn't act very informative at all. (She was also defrauded back in 2012, where she admitted to not being good with finances. She has an ivy league degree but absolutely no financial qualifications, and literally doesn't even manage her own household budget. She's a rich Roosevelt descendant.)

Unfortunately she doesn't self-identify how much personally information she freely revealed that allowed the scammers to leverage her fear better, and to more easily trick her into thinking they were legitimate.

Basically:

She doesn't really self-reflect on the ways in which she basically waved around a flag saying "I'm a great mark for your scam!" by telling them what she has in her bank account.

And she also doesn't identify the difference between easily accessible personal information (your home address, the names of your relatives, their addresses) and the moments where she freely gave personal info away to her scammers (what her husband does for a living, that he is the one who handles the budget and not her, that she has a young child and childcare expenses, what she does for a living and therefore how she does her taxes**) . It would've been GREAT if she walked us through all the mistakes she made, the ways in which she let them know she was a good target, but she didn't do that.

She also never mentions how the last 4 of your social is really easy for anyone to find.

She doesn't seem aware of how she created the spectre of a potential threat for her son by informing the scammers where he was and where he would be.

She also glossed right over the warning handout her bank gave her with fraud signs to look out for. She says in the NYT article that quoted her that the warning handout gave her pause, but she decided to ignore the warnings because they hadn't directly asked to take her money from her yet. She doesn't address the info on that flyer which was linked as a PDF in the NYT article. It's basically an overview of the entire phone scam she had. And she ignored it.

She doesn't point out some of the more obvious lies given to her. Like ...the lie that a central intelligence agency agent would be working on US soil, on a federal crime ....instead of idk, the federal bureau of investigation. She seems to point out some things that seemed incongruous but then repeatedly ignored and disregards them. And then doesn't explain how to not repeat her mistakes.

**she (perhaps unknowingly??) admits to incorrectly filing her taxes for her entire freelancing career in this article. I can only imagine how much money she owes the IRS. In case you didn't catch it: she says she sets aside so much money in her savings because as a freelancer taxes aren't taken directly out of her paycheck, so at the end of the year, she wants to be prepared. There's just one thing: Self-employed freelancers are supposed to file their taxes quarterly. Failing to do that accrues late fees/fines and thus an increased bill. She is rich enough to hire one whole tax preparer. Why does she set aside so much money for end of year taxes when she is supposed to be filing quarterly?

Look, i'm not saying she definitely lied about being scammed out of $50k so she could claim a large financial loss on her taxes to the IRS because she did her taxes wrong for over a decade, but i'm also not saying this is all a lie to hide something else like a drug/gambling/shopping addiction.

I am saying all of those things make an equal amount of sense when compared to the story she actually told, which truly crumples under: "I read the bank warnings handout advising me of scam tactics to look out for and then promptly ignored it. Anyone could be scammed just like me!!!"

And then she never mentions maybe her bank had her best interests in mind and gave her the tools to avoid this problem which she totally disregarded because mr. CIA man wasn't asking she give him her money yet. Her advice isn't "if your bank is warning you that you could be being scammed, consider that they're 100% right! Ask for help!"

Edit: also to be clear the study says younger people are more likely to REPORT their fraud. This makes total sense when you remember that elderly people are considered a higher risk category for financial abuse and fraud, often unreported because they're unable to do so, or unaware of the fraud due to things like dementia, Alzheimer's, etc. the elderly are often defrauded by their caregivers/family members. Elder financial abuse is a huge thing, and unfortunately very common.

[ Oh also: while she did lose all that money, she was also technically a willing participant in the fraud. Which is why she recovered none of it.]

really important financial advice: if a bank employee hands you a printout on scam and fraud tactics because you made a big withdrawal from your savings suddenly then you should maybe consider listening to your bank and question if you're being scammed by someone

related observation: idk maybe if your bank says "make sure this isn't fraud you're being pressured into!! Here's what to look out for!!!" And you go "hm. well that's not important," and then go right ahead to hand over $50,000 in a shoebox to someone you were told is an undercover CIA agent

—then maybe you shouldn't be considered qualified to write a financial advice column.

[tsuraiwrites]

The Uses of Sorrow: Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness - tell me it doesn't smell of voiles to you?

for this prompt meme. this will be up on ao3 in the evening.

A Box Full of Darkness (½)

The thing about corporating out of some bandages onto that wooden floor… the thing is that no matter what Noshiko and her oni say, no matter that the oni’s hold on him felt like they were scraping claws on the inside of his skull and deemed him free of corruption, Stiles doesn’t feel like a real person. 

He’s got all of his memories, sure. Even the ADHD came through fine. PTSD and nightmares are real winners too.

But there used to be a small scar over the knuckle of his index finger, where Mrs. Peterson’s pomeranian bit him when he was eight. He had to get stitches because it kept spurting blood everytime he twitched his finger. There’s no faint line above his eyebrow where Erica bashed him in the face. He has no scars now, except onore, the “self” the oni branded him with.

Stiles is a copy, and he can’t forget it when his own body is a testament to the truth. He traces the kanji when he’s distracted, wondering if the mark is supposed to fade at some point. He doesn’t think it will.

Maybe the oni missed something vital, something still curled around the back of his brain. 

When he finally turns to Google to answer the questions still buzzing around his head like that fucking fly, Stiles finds himself staring at a webpage full of Japanese and reading it as easily as English. He tabs away, checking emails before typing another search term into the browser.

After a while he realizes he’s reading a PDF of the original Kojiki, combing for references to the god of foxes, kitsune, or nogitsune. The old Japanese holy text is already liberally annotated. The corner of his screen reads 4:30am and he has to be at school in less than four hours. Stiles sucks in a breath, clenching his hands into fists until they stop shaking.

He slams his laptop shut and faceplants into the bed, packing away this new horrifying revelation and shoving it into a dark corner. 

The visualization helps a little, even if his skull starts to feel scraped out and raw again. 

Stiles tries to forget about it.

He won’t be able to, but he tries.

-

“Stiles,” a voice whispers in his dream, and the sad thing is Stiles thinks he’s actually able to tell it’s not real without even counting his fingers. The figment of his own brain speaks into his ear, and Stiles waves it away until it disperses like so much mist.

He knows he’s not possessed. He’s too empty for that voice to be real.

-

Then Scott calls them to Derek’s loft. 

“And everything looked fine, his door was locked, nothing out of place, but…” Scott trails off, distressed. Stiles looks around, but everything is just as open and lifeless as ever.

“But what? Did you find something that points to this kidnapping theory?” Stiles finally snaps when Scott doesn’t continue. 

“Of course he didn’t find anything. This place has been professionally cleaned. That cobweb that’s been there since he moved here is gone,” Lydia says, pointing to the corner by the window. Scott squints like his eyesight isn’t perfect, and Stiles can read his frustration with missing cues that only Lydia could deem ‘obvious’. 

“So what, you want Lydia to run her hands over everything in the room to see if someone capped Derek? Seems like just asking for tetanus.”

Scott shoots him a look full of exasperation and Lydia brushes past him, rolling her eyes as she prepares to listen. 

For about five minutes, Stiles has hope they can resolve this quickly. 

-

He can’t say why he comes to the clinic, his thought process not much beyond every minute that passes is another Derek may be dying.

They have nothing. No leads. No new impressions. No one they can really reach out to. Isaac and Argent fucked off to France to run away from their grief, practically gone dark but for the few texts from Isaac over the last weeks. So far they’ve received no reply about their worries for Derek, and if Stiles is honest he’s not sure Argent is up to making all the calls necessary, not with Allison gone.

(And that hurts too because even when he feels unreal he can still feel his hands gripping the blade that sank into Scott the same way it must have sunk into Allison and it hurts-)

But he finds himself picking the lock into the vet clinic almost absent-mindedly, his thoughts focused on fending off that twist of grief threatening to drown him if he lets it. 

Deaton isn’t in, but it’s not like Stiles needs him to get past the mountain ash lines or whatever other supernatural traps the druid laid. 

(And he feels unreal again because how can he be human after getting puked out his own body or when he feels like there’s a subtle awareness of his own energy like something buzzing under his skin and reminding Stiles how hollow he is)

He comes back to awareness while popping open a padlock with steady hands. He curiously lifts the lid off the metal chest and peeks inside.

He slams the lid again, clicks the padlock in place, and runs out the clinic as fast as his legs can carry him.

-

First is the fear. How did Stiles know it was there? Did it put him in a fucking trance- but no, he’d seen the runes all over that chest, so surely Deaton was using that to contain its influence. Surely. But then how did Stiles know where to find it.

Close on fears heels comes anger, because Argent was supposed to take care of it, to make sure it never hurts anyone again-

But that’s too much to ask of a man whose daughter died because of that thing. Because of Stiles. 

He hisses, hitting the wheel with his open palms until they ache and then gripping for all he’s worth.

“Stiles,” his dad says on the other side of the door and Stiles yelps, banging his knee hard into the dashboard. “You okay, kid?” 

Damn it, even his paranoia isn’t good for anything if he didn’t notice his dad walking up to the Jeep. Stiles scrambles to unbuckle and get out. His dad’s raised eyebrows don’t help the embarrassment he feels when they both realize he’s wearing just his pajamas and a pair of sneakers. He didn’t even put on socks. 

“Hey, you haven’t been sleepwalking again, have you?” John asks, his face twisting up with concern. He sets a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles can’t help how he flinches. The next moment he’s being reeled in closer and pulled into another of those hugs – the ones that happen when they’re both thinking about things better left unsaid. “No, not sleepwalking, I promise,” he mutters, not quite sure how true it is. “There’s just, been a lot going on and…” Stiles mentally flails, casting about for a suitable lie, and John pulls away to look him in the eye again. This is the part where Dad asks what’s going on, and Stiles comes up with some high school drama, some small werewolf thing, a story about how he had a nightmare and wanted to grab some coffee and didn’t think to change clothes…

But his dad just looks at him, doing his best to be patient without walking on eggshells. Stiles’ next breath hitches on a sob he can’t quite choke down.

“It’s about Derek…”

-

It’s easier to convince his dad than Stiles thought it would be, even with their paper-thin conclusions that Derek has been kidnapped. 

His dad files a missing persons report and reaches out along the few contacts he has that haven’t yet burned their bridges with the Hellmouth that is Beacon Hills. In the process they finally reel Peter into things, which is in hindsight a mistake. He has nothing helpful to add but snarky comments and an intense fixation on watching Malia. Stiles keeps an eye on them, and Malia may as well be bristling at the attention. He carefully keeps himself between them, even though she probably won’t hesitate to go through him if Peter says something to piss her off.

It should be a red flag, how little that prospect frightens him. Instead Stiles is forced to push it aside for that clock ticking down somewhere in the back of his head, telling him that Derek is running out of time. He’d think it was just anxiety giving him a panic-inducing imaginary countdown, but… somehow Stiles is just sure. 

Nothing good will happen to Derek if they don’t find him in time.

-

No leads, no leads and the clock is ticking. Argent still won’t get back to them. 

He keeps going back to the loft, even though Lydia got nothing more than blood, gunshots, and a woman’s voice. Nothing helpful, and Stiles keeps getting stuck back on the floor, shining with a faint lemon-scent by unknown hands. They only have assurance that Derek didn’t die here, despite probably being shot. 

Even Kira’s mother has little to say in the matter. It doesn’t surprise him – celestial kitsune have never been very useful aside from summoning oni and some flashy cleansing powers… and if that’s not thought Stiles ever would have had before, he shakes his head and ignores it. 

The way he’s trying to ignore the knowledge that there is someone – something – that could touch the featureless concrete and know, because it deals in pain and suffering and feeds on it even years later. 

It’s Peter who finds him there, still standing in the middle of the floor an hour later. The sound of his name breaks Stiles out of his thought process. Peter grabs his arm when he tries to brush past him and Stiles can’t help his flinch.

He’s immediately let go, and can’t quite process what’s happening for a moment when Peter takes a step away from him. Bewildered, Stiles finally meets his eyes.

“Are you alright?” 

It’s the last thing he expects to hear from Peter and he blinks hard. “What- I…” he stops, straightens a little to look at the wolf on the same level. “I’m fine. I am,” he insists when Peter squints at him. Stiles’ heartbeat is as steady as it ever gets. He isn’t lying. 

-

It’s easy as anything to download a Japanese keyboard to his phone. Even with shaking hands, he has a few emails sent out before he unlocks the door to his dark, empty house. His dad is on shift, and with everyone out looking for any sign of Derek he can’t expect company for the evening. 

In his pocket, his phone buzzes once with an incoming email. 

-

The hostess only raises an eyebrow as Stiles skids through the restaurant door two minutes before closing. He musters his best sheepish smile. “Uh, pickup for Stilinski?” 

“Of course,” she says, picking up a large bag and setting it on the corner before him. “Cash or card?”

Stiles pays and quickly leaves again, hoping that the sheer amount of karaage and inarizushi he bought will make up for it not being warm when he finally eats it. But no, he can’t think about that right now. Focus is what’s needed here. 

He drives with both hands on the wheel, counting his breaths just so panic won’t cause him to run off the road. The Jeep’s beaten up enough as it is, it probably won’t survive another head-on collision with a tree. 

He could swear the wards and mountain ash prick at him as he picks the lock again. The quiet snick of the last pin sliding into place echoes ominously, reverberating in the hollow space carved into his chest. The plastic bag in his hand grows heavier. Nevertheless, Stiles makes his slow way to the dark office, counting his breaths.

He drives the screwdriver into the lock and it clicks open in time with his thudding heart.

Shock, an emotion screaming into Stiles’ brain like a livewire the instant his hand touches the box. A moment later that clears and rage hammers into him, the quiet thunk of a buzzing fly throwing itself mindlessly against the lid, trying to get at him. 

It takes every ounce of self-control to set the box on the floor instead of dropping it, and he has to wonder if Deaton or Argent could feel this too, or if he’s just special. Stiles gratefully lets go but the buzzing only grows louder. 

“Chill out,” he says, voice as steady as he can make it. He may be shaking, but the fly doesn’t need to know that. 1-2-3-4… he keeps counting on one hand, touching his thumb to each finger in sequence. With the other hand, he takes two styrofoam containers and opens the tops before turning the containers to face the box.

The buzzing stops. 

Got your attention now, don’t I, you bastard. “Kitsune-tsuki,” he says, and if his accent is a little archaic, it can’t be helped. “Willingly, this time.” 

The box actually twitches from how hard the fly buzzes, and Stiles doesn’t need to touch it to get the impression of rage and betrayal from it – it spent far too long wrapped up in Stiles’ neurons for him not to get to know it back, at least a little toward the end. 

“It’s not a trick,” says the human kid to the monster, and Stiles wants to laugh, reassuring the only being he hates in this world more than Gerard Argent that he’s being sincere. Half a giggle slips out before he strangles it. “I know what it means to be kitsune-mochi. This can’t be a trick.”

In the quiet, the fly buzzes once, almost petulant. 

Stiles scoffs. “You tricked Noshiko first, you don’t get to be pissed when she tricked you back.” His mouth pulls into a grin and there’s no one to see how strained it is at the edges when Stiles leans forward and negligently flicks the box of sushi with a finger. “Well?” he finally hisses at the silent hunk of wood, trying not to let his desperation show. 

Somewhere in the next room, something drips loudly. The invisible clock ticks on. 

Then a high, long buzz he can’t interpret, but he doesn’t have to when he’s already reaching to open the box with the yes ringing in his ears. 

“Onegaishimasu,” he remembers to spit at the last minute, and then there is pain. 

It’s not the slow invasion of dreams and backsliding sanity Stiles experienced before. It strikes like lightning, but inside, a rapid expansion of shadow driving seeking tendrils through all his veins and up his spine, curling tight around nerves and bone alike. The brand underneath his ear burns hot. 

All is quiet for a long moment. The dripping faucet is dry and the pain gradually fades.

There’s an almost physical sensation as the nogitsune wends their way through his memories until they come to the reason Stiles has been so desperate in the first place. 

Their laugh is full of razor blades, but he knows they’re amused at his petty need to save a pack member, even one that doesn’t like him very much. 

So soon after you were rid of us, too.

Stiles wants to scream, and they can see his want and his restraint both. 

Stiles reaches for a piece of inarizushi. Onegaishimasu, they sigh, in the same tone as someone settling into their favorite spot on the couch after a long day.

His mouth opens without his will behind it, tofu and rice accepted from a human hand as he feeds it to the fox. 

They are bound.

-

Cultural notes:

kitsune-tsuki - possession by a fox spirit

kitsune-mochi - a person or family willingly possessed by a kitsune in order to bring fortune to their family

karaage & inarizushi - both traditional foods (fried chicken and a type of fried tofu on sushi rice) associated with kitsune and the god of foxes and rice, O-Inari

“onegaishimasu” - a phrase used by two players before starting their game of Go; a phrase used when someone has agreed to do something for the person saying the words, with the implication to “please do me this favor”

[lemonsorbae]

*this list is updated frequently. last updated 06/21/19.

This is a compilation of my absolute favorite DeanCas fics of all time, they are fics I have and will read over, and over, and over again. They are the crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the golden ticket of DeanCas fanfiction, my friends. 

Please enjoy.

-organized from lowest word count - highest 

♦ put your hands on my waist by: casfallsinlove (2,182 ♦ M)

Summary: Dean is sitting at the window seat in their dark bedroom, the one that opens onto the fire escape. He must be cold. He's wearing nothing but boxers, miles and miles of lovely bare skin exposed to the cool breeze drifting in. If he is, he doesn't seem to care. 

♦ okay_cupid by: orange_crushed (4,591 ♦ T)

Summary: "The dating thing?" Dean frowns. "Online dating is for weirdos. Robots. Dudes hanging out in their basements."

"You hang out in your basement."

"I have an air hockey table down there,” Dean says, icily.

♦ Love Lab by: youaresunlight (5,385 ♦ M)

Summary: When Dean sees the flyer for a research study offering $75 to participants, he doesn’t think twice before signing him and Cas up. The problem, of course, is that it’s a romantic couples study and while Cas is his roommate and best friend, they are very much not in a relationship.

♦ No Strings by: lastknownwriter  (6,201 ♦ T) 

Summary: Casual sex, no strings attached; it seemed like the perfect offer…

*fic removed by author. please contact author for PDF.  

♦ Going Postal by: captainbarnes (6,771 ♦ NR)

Summary: Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak became pen pals because of a school assignment, and they tried not to get attached to one another. They really did. Sort of. Barely.

♦ the earth around me by: casfallsinlove (7,419 ♦ M)

Summary: “I’m running away,” Dean blurts and fuck, it feels good to say that out loud.Cas blinks at him over a box of cod liver oil. He plants it unceremoniously on the floor and pulls off his creased Walgreens apron.“I’m coming with you.”Okay then.

(In which Dean and Cas run away together and learn how to be free.)

♦ Something Unexpected by:cloudyjenn (7,671 ♦ NC-17)

Summary: Mr. Novak is Dean’s principal. Dean would like him to be more.

*journal has been deleted -- i do not have a copy of this pdf. if you do, and wouldn’t mind sharing, please hmu.

♦ Don’t Panic by: deans1911 (8,991 ♦ E)

Summary: Dean is a Secret Service agent. Castiel is his ex-KGB handler.

*removed by author.

♦ Astrophysics and Tea ‘Verse by: casfallsinlove (10,363 ♦ E)

Summary: Wherein Dean (who owns a bookstore) and Cas (an astrophysics grad student) have been best friends since they were kids, NASA nearly screws things up, and tea is mentioned far too often. 

♦ Chili Peppers by: justanothersong (12,707 ♦ T)

Summary: Dr. Winchester hears an off hand comment from one of his students and find himself browsing a website dedicated to rating university professors. He’s not surprised by his rating — but is a little miffed to see the department chair has an even better one. Clearly, something needs to be done about this.

♦ Today, your barista ‘verse by: orange_crushed (13,601 ♦ T)

Summary: "Is that-"

"My number," says Dean, because he's a fucking champion, he's cool, he's collected, he's Captain Smooth of the USS Smoothtania, that's right. He is definitely not leaning against the counter for moral support. Cas doesn' looked seduced or impressed, though. He does not look like a dude who just met Captain Smooth and wants to ride the loveboat. He looks puzzled.

♦ It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by: scaramouche (21,126 ♦ E)

Summary: The status quo is this: Dean is the popular captain of the football team, and Castiel is the off-kilter nobody who doesn’t so much as breathe the same air as Dean. Then senior year happens and the status quo is shot to smithereens.

♦ Shortskirts 'verse by: twentysomething (22,377 ♦ E) 

Summary: So, they’re in high school, and then they’re in college, and it’s mostly not about Taylor Swift, except when it is 

*This fic is available to registered AO3 members only.

♦ Shut Up (Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) by: kototyph (23,970 ♦ E) 

Summary: Dean's done some pretty stupid things, but getting drunk-hitched in Vegas to a colleague he barely knows might just take the cake. His surprise husband, Castiel, is a little weird but likable despite that, and Dean figures they’ll go back to Boston, get a quiet annulment, and go their separate ways.

Six weeks later, he’s still married to one of the strangest, most genuine and definitely most dangerously lov-- likable guys he's ever known. Dean doesn't know why or really even how it’s happening, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember that he has divorce papers to file. 

♦ Asunder by: rageprufrock (23,817 ♦ E) 

Summary: Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. (Matthew 19:6) 

♦ An Exercise in 'Worthless' by: beastofthesky (26,547 ♦ M) 

Summary: "I mean, you’re–” He gestures at Cas, in his neat oxford shirt and nice pants. “–and I’m a high school dropout who tattoos for a living.” 

Wherein Dean makes a hefty living as a tattoo artist who owns the space next to Gabriel's cafe. Sam attends the local university. When Gabe's cousin comes to live with him while starting grad school at Sam's university, Dean thinks for sure that all his negative karma's coming to bite him in the ass because Cas clearly has a thing for Sam. No one would ever choose him over Sam. That's just logic.

♦ The Way The War Was Won by: deans1911 (39,084 ♦ E)

Summary: Dean and Cas are buddy cops faking a marriage for the benefits and tax breaks. Except for the part where Dean’s sort of actually in love with his partner and doesn’t realize it yet. 

*removed by author 

♦ Unlimited Potential by: lastknownwriter (45,237 ♦ M)

Summary: Dean Winchester has it all: perfect grades, popularity, the brightest future. He knows exactly who he is and exactly what he wants.

And then someone unexpected shows him how very much he doesn’t.

*fic removed by author. please contact author for PDF.  

♦ The Laundromat ‘Verse by: ozonecologne (48,940 ♦ M)

Summary: Dean runs a laundromat. The punk kids come to him for all their clothing repair needs.

That includes their bad boy ringleader, Castiel.

A collection of ficlets.

♦ Your Heart Makes by: schmerzerling (51,884 ♦ M) 

Summary: Castiel is directionless, depressed, and working in one of the worst possible places to be so—Disneyland Park. Seeing hundreds of excited people every day, trying to smile for the customers, and dealing with the fact that his infuriating brother Gabriel is so readily capable of every park job he throws himself into makes Castiel feel like he could barely manage to keep his head above the foot of water in the “It’s a Small World” canal that he oversees. 

All of that changes when the universe sees fit to put him in a Disneyesque love story opposite the handsome animator in the window on Main Street who doesn’t care about Castiel’s lethargic lack of idealism—so long as he can make caustic Cas come to appreciate every attraction in the park. But life isn’t a Disney fairy tale, and even though an easy out and a happy ending are what Castiel seeks, he’ll begin to wonder if the happiest ending isn’t really an ending at all. 

♦ Thunder & Angels by: pm_lo (54,263 ♦ E)

Summary: Castiel’s family owns the shoddily-regulated coal mine where John Winchester works, so Dean storms Cas’s mansion, demanding answers from the drugged-out trust-fund kid. In exchange for his help repairing the mine, Cas demands Dean live with him for three months and give Cas a shot at seducing him by allowing him one kiss a day.

♦ Grotesque by: lastknownwriter (58,314 ♦ E)

Summary: Deep in the heart of the bayou, a winged creature has paid a long and lonely penance for a tragedy history has forgotten. A fateful storm and a soldier pure of heart are about to change his world. A Dean/Castiel Beauty and the Beast AU.

*fic removed by author. please contact author for PDF.  

♦ Highwaymen. by: orange_crushed (66,389 ♦ M)

Summary: Dean closes his eyes. He is under a blanket in his memories, fabric pulled up under his chin and his face pressed near to hers on the pillow. His father is asleep, snoring slightly, hands loose and expression happy, curled around her on the other side. She's speaking in whispers. He knows that she was already pregnant then, that Sam was on his way into their lives, even though he'd had no idea what exactly that meant at the time. He can almost see her face still, warm and orange in the light of her lumoscircling their heads like a firefly, but every now and then she blurs in his vision, like a lost thread of consciousness, something half-remembered. Bit by bit, he's losing her.

♦ Past, Present by: lastknownwriter (83,867 ♦ E)

Summary: When bar owner Dean Winchester meets Castiel Novak, he is only trying to be friendly to the lonely professor; he never expects to fall in love. When a tragic accident inadvertently erases the life they’ve built together, will they be able to find each other again? Or will Dean be left with the memory of a love he couldn’t save and a heart hardened by a simple twist of fate? 

*fic removed by author. please contact author for PDF. 

♦ Freefall by: lastknownwriter (128,542 ♦ E)

Summary: The most exciting kindergarten teacher Dean Winchester’s life ever gets is when he plays mechanic in his uncle Bobby’s shop on the weekends.That is until a birthday party goes tequila-nova and he trips into a one-night stand with an incredibly hot firefighter named Castiel. Dean’s life gets a lot more exciting after that.

*fic removed by author. please contact author for PDF.

♦ For All You Young Hockey Players Out There, Pay Attention  by: thursdaysfallenangel (143,594 ♦ E) 

Summary: Dean Winchester knows two things about hockey, two things his dad made sure he knew. One, hockey is a guy’s sport, and two, hockey is family. Hockey meant Sam and Bobby and Benny and Victor and Gabriel and hell, his entire team. So when Victor gets traded, Russian-star-turned-new teammate Castiel Krushnic becomes a threat. As much as Dean hates him for that, the longer he sticks around, the more he begins to threaten that first rule too. Dean’s been taught his whole life that those who play hockey should not be captivated by deep accented voices and the way a guy handles his stick, so how the hell is he supposed to justify what he’s starting to think about Cas? All Dean wanted at the beginning of the season was to win, and now all he wants to do is figure out how he feels about Cas and how to deal with it without ruining his career and tearing his family apart. 

*if any of the links don’t work/are wrong, message me, if you need a PDF of any of the fics listed, please contact me. i have copies of them all. *if you are an author and do not want your work being distributed, please message me.

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