Trans guy Sam and unrelentingly supportive Dean; aka, in which Sam and Dean are precious loving goofballs who love each other and slay my heart. A sweet, nonexplicit fill for SpnKinkBingo for the cunnilingus square (cunnilingus is DISCUSSED, but not given).

Sam Winchester: in college, in debt (though maybe not in the way you think), and a little bit (or a lot) desperately effed up. Love wont fix anything, but maybe it's capable of being the motivating force behind some much needed, self-driven change. Or maybe all he needs is a slap to the face. It's a coin toss, really.

Imagine trans boy Dean not realizing he's trans and suffering through the resulting confusion and dysphoria - but then slowly, day by day and piece by very small piece (and thanks, in part, to a very memorable night with Rhonda Hurley), beginning to understand. (tw: vividly written gender dysphoria)

"You want to get Jess' smell out of your head?" There was a short stretch of silence; Sam's eyes had gone wide, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Dean's fingers were curled into fists, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough; raw; thick with emotion. "Dean–" "Let me help with that." Past Sam/Jess.

Depression takes many forms; makes itself known in many ways. It can be blaring: a neon sign that follows you as you walk and taints every one of your interactions with palpable pain. Or it can be quiet; insidious: painful in an even deeper and fundamental sense. The depression Sam falls into after Jess' death feels like it was a long time coming. (suicidal ideation, happy ending)

"If I can't have you as my vessel, I'll tear your life apart instead, shred by shred until there's nothing left but the strings of your sanity and an empty, broken shell." Sam knew that Lucifer wasn't the type to screw around. But he hadn't known how seriously he'd meant the threat, either. (implied torture/rape & aftermath, psychological torture, ambiguous ending)

There was something about Sam – something about the life they had, something about Bobby's house, something about the bickering and food fights and petty arguments and staying there and not ding-dong-ditching that lent his life a sort of domesticity that it had never had before. In which Gabriel is domestic as hell and regrets nothing. Unadulterated Christmas-time fluff.

Lucifer's out of the cage, and Gabriel's dealing. Really. Never mind his life-long habit of making decisions that unfailingly come around to bite him in the ass. Angelcest; Stockholm Syndrome. This is not a happy ship but boy was this fun to write. Set in early Season 5.