#trans sam fanfiction

[fandom-hoarder]

🍎 how do ya like them apples? 🍎

Written for Round One of @brobonebang

Prompt: an apple orchard.

_

Summary: Sam's latest class takes a field trip to an apple orchard. Her brother signs up as a chaperone.

_

Rating: E | Warning: Chose Not to Warn | Words: 1709

Tags: Sam Winchester Wears a Skirt, D/s elements, Trans Sam Winchester, Rimming, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Trans Female Sam Winchester, mildly inappropriate use of apples, Field trips, Weecest, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester

Tag list under cut

@fangirlxwritesx67   @amill22  

#wincest fanfiction #bro bone bang #trans sam winchester #transfem sam #🍋 #d/s elements #inappropriate ball gags #weecest #bottom!sam #trans sam fanfiction

[cas-coding]

He’s seven when it hits him.

Sam’s pulling at Dean’s pigtails, his new favorite pastime as Dean makes dinner, just a quick box of stovetop mac and cheese for them tonight. Their dad was supposed to be home hours ago, but Dean had learned quickly that John didn’t care about getting home on time, not when he could make a quick detour to the liquor store.

“Deanna!” Sam screams playfully, pulling on a fistful of Dean’s hair, “Deanna, I’m hungry!” The words sting, but Dean’s not really sure why, why he’s been so much angrier at Sam since he picked up the habit of mockingly calling him Deanna, using his full name rather than the cute ‘Dee’ he used to call him.

Ignoring it, Dean sets a bowlful of mac and cheese in front of his little brother, praying it will buy him time as he slips into the bathroom. The door clicks shut softly and Dean’s breathing picks up, heaving in lungful after lungful of air as he looks at himself in the mirror.

He’s got pigtails in his hair, little pink elastics holding the two clumps of hair on top of his head, the bottoms of the pigtails still brushing against his shoulders as he turns his head. His hair is blonde, just like his mom, but he looks in the mirror and he hates it, hates to see a juvenile reflection of his own mother staring back at him.

Walking away from the mirror, Dean sighs and sits down on top of the toilet lid, pretending for one minute that he’s not in some scummy motel room, but that he’s home, that he’s just brushing his teeth before his mom will come tuck him into bed. What would he do then?

His hands find the hem of the skirt he’s wearing, frayed from a year of constant wear. It was easier to have him in skirts all the time, Dean knew that, he was growing so fast that pants wouldn’t fit for more than a couple months. Dad was saving money with Dean, refusing to buy him a solid pair of jeans, but he bought Sam new pants every other month, so why was Dean any different?

Then Dean is tearing at the fabric, ripping a long slit in the skirt before finding another place along the hem and doing the same. This isn’t who he is, it never was, so why is his dad trying to make him something he’s not?

Back when his mom was still alive, when she’d tuck him in at night, she’d press a kiss to his forehead and tell him he was loved. She’d say, “I love you, Deanna. Sleep tight,” and close the door, nightlight flickering away in the corner. He hadn’t had an issue with his name then. He’d wake up in the morning and put on jeans and a t-shirt, run around the neighborhood, climb trees in the backyard. He’d come inside for a PB&J sandwich and his mom would press a kiss to his forehead, muttering softly, “My little tomboy,” before tending to Sam, whispering in turn to him, “My baby boy.” Why didn’t Dean ever get to be his mom’s baby boy?

Soon enough, Dean’s down on his hands and knees, frantically shuffling through the cabinet under the sink, hands digging through his father’s duffel bag. There had to be something there, anything Dean could use. His fingers brush against his dad’s electric shaving razor, grabbing at it as fast as he can.

Dean’s hair falls to the ground in clumps. First the ponytails, the little pink elastic still wrapped around the hair as it sits on the dirty tile floor, then little hairs as Dean runs the electric razor back and forth over his head. Looking in the mirror, a part of him hurts, the last bit of his mother lying on the floor with Dean’s hair, but something inside of him sings despite that hurt; he feels like he’s finally himself.

Sam’s still stuffing his face full of macaroni and cheese when Dean emerges from the bathroom, ignoring his brother to run to their shared room. His hands shuffle around under the bed before he grabs hold of Sam’s travel bag and pulls it into the light. He unzips it carefully, as if it holds some kind of treasure, because it does. Sam’s got two extra pair of jeans, and they’d be short and tight, but Dean could make them fit; he’d just have to steal some of his own sometime, maybe tomorrow if their dad still wasn’t back.

Dean feels like he can’t breathe in Sam’s little jeans, the bottom of them squeezing around his calf, but Sam says nothing as Dean walks back into the kitchen and takes a bowl of mac and cheese for himself. It’s not until they’re both finished with their dinner that Sam speaks at all, pushing his bowl towards Dean and smiling. “All done,” he says, barely taking a breath before adding, “Where’d your pigtails go?”

Swallowing thickly, Dean stands up, taking Sam’s bowl and ignoring the question. He didn’t know how to explain that he hated it, that every time his little brother pulled at his hair he wished he would pull it right off, and so he explains nothing.

“Deanna,” Sam giggles, his happiness contrasting Dean’s disgust, “Why’d you get rid of your pigtails?” God, the kid won’t just drop it, will he?

“Dean,” he snaps, all the anger leaving his body at once, “I’m Dean, Sammy, or at the very least, Dee. Not Deanna.”

The room instantly falls silent and Dean turns to look at Sam, worried he’s going to cry. Dean wasn’t supposed to snap at Sam like that, they both already got enough of it from their dad. Instead of tears, there’s curiosity welling in Sam’s eyes, his head tilted as he repeats it. “Dean,” he says, slowly at first, “Dean, why’d you get rid of your pigtails?”

That question again. Sam was fixated on it, clearly, because what was he supposed to pull on and play with now? The kid loved pulling Dean’s hair, and now that it was short, he wouldn’t be able to. “I didn’t like them,” is the best response Dean can come up with, the selfishness of it sinking into his bones. His brother liked his pigtails, and who was Dean to take that away from Sam?

Giggles snap Dean out of his own head, Sam beaming at Dean as he tries to climb the counter beside him. “Wanna feel your hair,” he explains, and then Dean’s bending down, letting Sam run his hands through Dean’s short cut, smiling as Sam drags his hand across it and laughs. “It’s pokey,” he explains, and Dean runs his own hand through his hair, letting a smile show on his face. “You’re pokey,” Sam adds, and Dean’s almost offended before Sam continues and says, “I like it.”

#not sure if this is good enough to put on ao3 #do we like? #should i write more? #should i make it a series of memories type oneshot? #help me decide. #srsly tell me what to do in rbs #maybe ill rb a poll to go with #dean winchester #sam winchester #trans dean winchester #spn #supernatural #trans #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #nick writes #ao3

[pickledpascal]

Meat & Candy

Chapter Three

Warnings: innuendos, sibling teasing, dean being nervous, swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

Meat & Candy Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Before Castiel left the restaurant, he and Dean exchanged numbers to work out a time for Dean’s “lesson.” Castiel couldn’t help but feel excited about it.

Not only because Dean was an attractive man but because he loved food and he loved seeing the process of a professional chef. The way they moved around in a busy kitchen, how they prepared for the upcoming day, the precise hand of how they plated a dish—it all interested him. And told Castiel a lot about a chef. Would Dean be one of those hot-headed chefs who screamed at his staff when a plate came to the pass raw and ultimately pushed his chefs to be better? Or was Dean more calm, collected, and gently pushed until he’d talk with one of his chefs about their performance?

Castiel hoped it was the latter.

As Dean’s eyes followed Castiel through the windows, Sam snickered behind him. Dean turned, rolling his eyes. “Spit it out, Sammy.”

“‘Would you like to come back tomorrow?’ So we can kiss on the mouth?” Sammy mocked in a deeper voice, imitating Dean. “You’re so obvious sometimes, Dean. I’m surprised Castiel didn’t just kiss you goodbye.”

Dean titled his head. “What?” He felt dizzy. Did Castiel like him? Well, Dean knew he could be charming and he knew his looks were enough to make anyone fall for him but he’s had…. Issues. Enough issues where he still got surprised that people found him attractive and liked him for who he was. Yeah, that still got him. 

“You’re so fucking oblivious sometimes, I can’t believe you.” Sam let out a sigh, pushing a hand through his hair. 

“Or maybe you’re just seeing things.” Dean pointed out, trying to push away the fluttering feeling in his chest.

The last time Dean had a relationship was nearly sixteen years ago when Emma was born. He had this on-and-off thing with Benny but Dean wouldn’t call that a relationship. More like friends with benefits. Plus, he cut that off a while ago. Now, they were just friends. Benny met a girl named Andrea and they were engaged. Dean was happy for him. 

And Dean, for a while, was completely fine with being alone. 

Lately, Emma hasn't been fine with it. 

Did she want Dean to go home with just anyone? Absolutely not. But she wanted him to get out there. And Sam couldn't help but agree. Hell, everyone in Dean's life agreed. 

And Dean…. Well, he didn't know what to do with that. 

“What're you gonna do tomorrow anyway?” Sam asked, leaning up against the table he was working at. 

Dean pursed his lips. “The classics? Maybe something else. I've been cooking up some stuff in my head.” He joked, snapping his finger and winking at Sam. 

“You suck.” Sam wasn't impressed.

He had to deal with Dean's coping mechanisms for most of his life. Sam knew he was still affected by everything that happened to them when they were kids. Dean remembered most, if not all, of what happened to them. Sam, not so much, simply because he was younger and his early years were a little fuzzy. 

“And you swallow.” Dean countered.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his forehead. “Get the fuck outta here and get the shit for our tasting session.” 

Dean laughed and nodded. “Gotcha. See in a few.” He went to the front door. “And by a few, I mean hours.” He waved as he exited. 

One of Dean's favorite things to do as a chef is to walk around the alleyway markets, checking out the produce, talking to a few vendors, and simply taking the time to slow down. He knew a lot of chefs thrived on adrenaline and the heat of the kitchen. Not Dean. He thrived for these moments. Quiet ones. Calm ones. Don't get him wrong, he loved being in the kitchen and he loved the feeling of camaraderie among his cooks when they completed a service but he cherished his time off just as much. 

“Hey, Donna!” Dean greeted her with a wide smile. He'd known Donna for a while.

She returned the smile. “Heya, Dean. What can I do ya for?”

“I’ll take five bunches of parsley, five pounds of tomatoes, two of apricots, and,” Dean grabbed one of the granny smith apples that sat in Donna's crates and tossed it into the air. “Three pounds of apples.” 

Donna nodded and began to bag everything for Dean. She'd get one of her workers to deliver it to the restaurant. “You seen Jody yet today?” 

“No, why?” Dean cocked an eyebrow. Jody was Dean's butcher of choice and she usually came in the afternoons to drop off whatever order he made in the morning.

“She has something special for ya.” Donna winked. 

Dean chuckled softly and finished up, paying for all the things he got. He went to a few other vendors, talking and laughing as he paid for stuff. Some things he thought Emma would like. For instance, he got a citrus and herbal candle—Emma had a nice candle collection going and some of her favorite smells were citrus and floral. 

When Dean came back from the markets, Emma sat at one of the tables doing her homework. He ruffled her hair when he got close. She shot him an annoyed, but affectionate, look. 

“Math still suck ass?” He asked with an easy smile.

Emma let out a sigh as she looked down at her notebook that had scribbles she didn’t understand even though she was the one that wrote them down. “Yeah.” 

“Want a distraction?” Dean leaned in closer to Emma, a hand on the back of her chair. 

Emma glanced at her father from her work and thought it over. Dean was usually good at distractions but also good at reminding her to finish her work afterward. She stood and motioned for Dean to enter the kitchen.

Dean’s smile widened as he opened the kitchen door for her and watched as she interacted with Sam, Benny, and the other chefs—Lee, Garth, Jack, and Charlie. 

To be fair, they were family to Emma before they were Dean’s employees. 

“What should we have her on?” Lee rubbed his chin, looking at the youngest in their brigade, Jack. “Think she can handle searing off the meats?” He teased.

Jack laughed nervously, not sure if he should answer at all. “Well, uh….”

Benny rolled his eyes and punched Jack’s shoulder gently. “Don’t answer that. Lee’s just messin’ with ya.” He glanced at Emma who was glaring at them. “She could probably get every station done on time and still have time to do homework.” He winked.

Dean put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Must run in the family.” 

“No. Uncle Sammy sucks in the kitchen.” Emma shuddered. Sam rolled his eyes.

The room burst into laughter. “Well, it runs in my blood.” Dean rephrased. “Anyway, c’mon,” His voice shifted to the one he usually used when he had to work, yelling orders over to pass to make sure his cooks heard him. “We’re gonna do a quick spread of each dish we will be serving, the correct portioning, so take small bites to make sure it tastes how it’s supposed to. Sam,” He looked at his behemoth of a brother, “Do not take bigger bites than you’re supposed to. You’ll be leaving scraps for Jack.”

———

After the interview, Castiel got some good work done on the article at the office. Sure, he could just write down the questions and Dean’s responses but where’s the fun in that? He wanted to make it more of a “character study” than an interview. He always felt normal interview articles lacked a certain soul. They never treated the person they were interviewing as a person. 

“Hey, Cassie!” Castiel heard the familiar voice of his brother as he entered his house. And he could sense the scent of cooking wine.

“Hello, Gabriel.” Castiel greeted, seeing Claire sitting at the kitchen island as she watched Gabriel in the kitchen. Something in his heart squeezed. 

Gabriel was no Masterchef—like Castiel would assume Dean would be—but he was less helpless in the kitchen than Castiel and helped him out a lot when he worked long days and wanted to make sure Claire ate something for dinner other than Wendy’s or some other fast food restaurant. 

“How was that interview with Mr. Winchester?” Gabe asked with a suggestive tone.

Castiel tilted his head, turning to Claire. “Did you tell him?” 

Claire shrugged and shook her head. “No. I mean I told him you were interviewing someone but I didn’t remember his name.” 

Castiel looked from Claire to Gabriel with curious eyes. 

His brother shifted slightly, his smug smirk never left his lips. “I sold that spot to Mr. Winchester. His house too. And occasionally we just talk for fun.” He shrugged. 

Castiel's eyebrows raised. He had a connection to Dean? “How long have you known him?” He couldn't help but ask.

Gabriel's eyes squinted a little at him. “A while. We met while he was still in New York for culinary school.”

Castiel noted the fact that Dean went to culinary school in New York in the back of his head. He became more intrigued. Gabriel lived in New York over a decade ago. Castiel was mostly surprised he'd never heard of Dean before now. But then again, Gabriel could be the type to forget to let people know things.

He and Castiel were different that way. It was a wonder how they were related. They were very different but seemed to work well together.

“What…. Was he like?” Castiel asked, his heart pounding faster.

Gabriel shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes. “Hot. That hasn't changed much. And a little skinnier.” He laughed softly. “Now that changed. He put on some muscle. The man became a proper dilf.”

Claire tilted her head, suddenly a lot more interested in the conversation. Maybe that was part of the reason why the rumors of the restaurant were circulating around her school. 

A hot head chef with a kid? It didn't even matter if he was single or not. Say hello to daddy issues.

———

Dean couldn't keep Castiel out of his head. He was buzzing around up there like a gnat—no, more like a bee. Gnats were far more annoying than bees. Bees were more important, too. They contributed to pollen dispersal and made honey. Honey was good. As far as Dean knew, gnats simply existed to annoy the hell out of people.

He leaned up against one of the counters in the kitchen and rubbed at his temples. He hadn't felt this kind of nervousness since he and Cassie were a thing. That thought made his heart sink. 

Cassie was the last person Dean had been in a relationship with. The last person that meant something to him. In more than just a familial or friendly way. 

And, shit, he was cooking for Cas. Cooking like this was intimate for Dean. It wasn't as meaningful when he was behind a wall, cooking for tables of people but Cas would actually be able to see the work and care he put into everything. 

Wait, when did he become Cas?

Dean shook his head and took a deep breath. He tried to remember what his therapist told him. Those breathing exercises. 

In. One, two, three. Hold. Out. One, two, three. Repeat three more times to make it an even four.

His heart slowed. Dean ran a hand through his hair before he noticed Benny standing near the back of the kitchen. He stood straighter.

“Did you, uh, watch all that?” Dean asked nervously. 

Benny nodded as he approached slowly. “No worries, man. I get it. You like him. And….” He paused to try and find the right words. “It's been a while since you felt like that. Like something real might happen.” 

Dean didn't want to look Benny in the eyes because he was exactly right. Why did Dean have to surround himself with people who could see right through him? Oh, right, because he wanted to hire people who he could trust and anticipate his needs before he asked for something. 

“I'm proud of you.” Benny eventually said, eyes softening as he looked at Dean. “You deserve something nice. Someone nice.” 

Dean closed his eyes at the praise. He felt like he didn't deserve it. He still wasn't used to it, even with as much praise Ellen and Bobby had given him over the years, the feeling didn't change much from his younger years. Dads sucked like that. 

Benny pulled Dean into a hug, surprising him. Dean simply let it happen, holding onto him. 

“You're such a good dad, y'know that?” Benny pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. He just wanted to be there for his friend. “I see the way Emma looks at you. Like you hung the damn moon, just for her. You're doing good, don't forget that.” 

Dean took in another deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, man.” He leaned back against the counters. “I, um, I needed that.” He admitted.

“I knew you did.” Benny said softly. “Just… Do something for yourself for once, hm?” 

With that, Benny was gone. He had retreated through the back door to give Dean some privacy. 

Cooking could be intimate with the right person after all. 

Or it could be hell.

Dean has felt his fair share of both in his forty or so years of being alive. 

“Hello?” Castiel poked his head through the door to the kitchen, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on Dean. He had a notebook in his hands with a pen clipped on the cover. 

He looked like a nerd. With his trench coat and tie combo. It made Dean smile.

“Um, Sam just let me in. I know I'm early. Is that okay? Or do you need more time to prepare?” Castiel asked shyly, playing with the edges of his notebook. 

Dean's smile widened a little, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He quickly wiped the look off his face as he took a breath, “No, you're fine. Don't worry.” 

He clapped his hands together before he motioned for Castiel to come closer. “Take a look around. Feel free to ask me any questions while I'm cooking, I can multitask pretty well.” Dean smirked and winked at the other man, not missing the way Sam looked at him through the window between the kitchen and the dining room.

Castiel hummed a little as he eagerly looked at the pre-portioned ingredients. It seemed like he was trying to figure out what Dean was going to do with them before he started.

He had no idea.

Less than a few minutes passed before the two dishes Dean made were finished. And Castiel's mouth was watering just looking at them.

Dean slid the first dish to Castiel. “This is my version of a classic breakfast. At least, what I assume is a classic breakfast.” He flushed a little as he looked down at the dish. “Egg's benedict with bacon on top and diced roasted potatoes.”

Castiel almost didn't want to take a fork and bite into it. The hollandaise was so fluffy and perfect looking with the way it dripped down the sides of the eggs and English muffin. And those potatoes? Seasoned to perfection and so golden. 

“Is the… Is the English muffin homemade?” Castiel shook his head to try and focus. 

Dean shook his head. “Charlie's a good baker but no. We get them locally though. A friend, Cassie, owns a bakery down the street.” 

Castiel took a quick note. Dean sources his ingredients locally. And then he cut into the dish. And, shit, the egg was poached to perfection. The yolk ran out elegantly. He wasn't sure how else to describe it. He wanted to drink it like water. When he finally put a piece of it in his mouth, he let out a small sigh. 

Castiel has had the pleasure of eating at some of the most expensive restaurants in Chicago and across the US because of his job but this… this felt like he got transported to Heaven and was cooked a meal by God himself. 

He wished the meal could last forever. Alas, he ate the dish in a mere minute or two. 

Dean let out a small laugh. “Hungry?”

“I barely ate today.” Castiel admitted. Maybe that was why it tasted better than anything he'd ever tasted before. But, at the same time, perhaps Dean was just that good of a chef. 

Dean's eyes softened with a glint of sadness, sliding over dish number two. “Well, I'm glad you could fill up.” He scratched his eyebrow for a second. “This is, uh, homemade spaghetti with garlic, parsley, bacon bits—because I gotta put bacon in nearly everything—red pepper flakes for some spice. And I tossed it in some tomato sauce.” 

Castiel looked at this dish carefully. It had some nice color with some red, green, and yellow and it didn't hurt that the bottom of the bowl wasn't dripping in sauce. Which was nice. However, he wasn't the biggest fan of bacon in pasta dishes. 

“Why lightly toss the pasta?” He asked, curious. Surely it wasn't just for aesthetic reasons.

Dean chuckled a little at the question before he leaned against the countertop. “Gives the dish a nice color plus I want to save most of the sauce for other dishes. And I didn't want to overpower the dish. The red sauce I make can be….” He tried to find the right words. “Very flavorful in large amounts.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at that before he swirled his fork in the pasta and took a bite. Well, shit. Those bacon bits worked pretty well in this dish. And he could understand what Dean was saying about the sauce. It was wonderful in this small amount but he wondered what it'd taste like if he had a pitcher that he could drink from. 

He scribbled down a few more notes in a frenzy. Mostly just flavors and the composition of the dish.

“And, uh, who do you staff here? Professional chefs like you? Or are you open to anyone?” Castiel asked after a few minutes of other questions. 

Dean pursed his lips for a second before his lips broke out into a smile. “I hire friends, mostly. Formal education or not. If I know you're good enough to work for me, then you're good enough.” He explained softly. “Like my best friend Benny, he's my sous, he used to work in New Orleans making lobster rolls and shrimp at little hole-in-the-wall places. Or, uh, Charlie, my pastry chef. She'd always make cakes for my birthday and they were incredible.”

Castiel chuckled softly. That would be a dream, getting to hire all your friends to work for you… Half his coworkers sucked. 

“I try to make a positive environment for my chefs. And my waiters. And my stage, Sam.” Dean smiled softly. “I know a lot of kitchens can get heated. I don't want that. My daughter comes into the kitchen a lot to help and I don't want her seeing me throwing a pan at someone.” He quickly added, “I mean, I wouldn't do that to begin with but… I've seen it happen.”

“Don't worry. I get it.” Castiel smiled at Dean, glancing up from the counters to his face. He tilted his head. “You mentioned you had a daughter twice. Once yesterday. Is that why you wanted to do this? Give her something… to have later on?”

Dean licked his lips and shook his head. “My daughter… she pushed me to do this. To have something I could call my own that I didn't have to share with anyone. Sam helped me a lot, sure, but this is my restaurant. I don't have a partner or co-owner. It's… it's mine.” He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand up his face for a second. “I haven't had something like that in a while.”

Castiel nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at Dean. He made Castiel think of his own daughter. Maybe he was being too selfish and tried to focus too hard on advancing his career instead of Claire.

She deserved more. 

“How… How do you think you did? As a parent?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean let out a soft laugh. “I don't know. Emma would say I'm the best dad ever but I'm not sure. There were times I struggled to pay bills but… but we always ate dinner together.” He loved those times, as much as they sucked.

Emma was such a wonderful child that Dean wasn't sure if that was his nurture or her nature. She always wanted to help in the kitchen. Perhaps it's because he liked it so much and she wanted to know why.

With grease stains on his shirts, oil scars on his hands, and a towel on his shoulder to pick up hot things. All Dean remembered was her smiling face biting into one of his burgers, with one of her front teeth missing. It's like he could see the memory shifting before his eyes. To Emma just a few days ago doing the exact same thing.

Fuck, Dean loved her with all his heart. 

———

taglist: @nexus-my-beloved

#jensen ackles #supernatural #transgender #spn #queer #destiel #deancas #dean and cas #sam and dean #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x castiel #castiel #sam winchester #trans!dean x castiel #castiel novak #benny lafitte #charlie bradbury #cassie robinson #misha collins #jack kline #lee webb #chef au #journalism #chef

[fizzy-dizzie]

Ykw I love fic hopping. BC usually I'll read fics according to whatever show or movie I'm into the most at the time but every once and a while I'll read like 7 different fics from different fandoms in a night, all different genres.

Some stucky, then some destiel fics, then trans Peter parker fics, some soap shipping, then maybe a trans Sam fic. A little daredevil and Spiderman fic. Then I'll filter a whole fandom for trans male character and do that for another fandom too. Finally a little Winchester brother angst to top off the night.

#i recognise that this is 3 fandoms total #still fic hopping just not as intense #alot of different genres too so thatd count for smth #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #winchester brothers #peter parker #spiderman #spider man #matt murdock #daredevil #destiel #stucky #trans peter parker #trans sam winchester #ao3 #fanfiction

[robsth0r]

Stark Party (Loki x Trans!Male!Reader)

A/N: Here we got some Loki x Trans!Male!Reader content. Enjoy!

Warnings: Gender dysphoria, misgendering.

Word Count: 1273

“Y/n, are you in there?” I hear Natasha’s voice from outside my bathroom. I hesitate a bit as I walk out of the shower.

“Yes! I just finished bathing. I'll be out in a second.” I quickly dry myself and put on the clothes I had taken with me into the bathroom, which is a long sleeved white shirt and a pair of black cargo pants. 

As I walk out of the bathroom still drying my hair I see Natasha standing in a beautiful maroon dress all done for the party Tony is having. 

“Looks like you're trying to impress someone?” I say with a smirk knowing the feelings Natasha has had for Maria the last half a year. She blushes a little looking down before stretching out her arm in the direction of my closet suggesting that I should find an outfit and take it on. I walk in the direction of the closet trying to decide in my head what colors I was going for.

As I walk into my walk-in closet I look around at the clothes trying to decide what it was gonna be this time. I think back to the first party with the Avengers. I had chosen to wear a suit mostly dark green and black, Loki’s colors. It was not even thought through but I had liked the extra attention and compliments from Loki when it came to my outfit and the color scheme.

Snapping out of my thoughts I decide that I’ll go for the dark green theme again, maybe even taking on some gold as well. Taking on the chosen green casual suit set I look in the mirror walking out of the closet to Natasha refreshening her red lipstick.

She looks at me in the mirror, her eyes lighting up when she sees me. She turns around quickly, being done with the lipstick. Smirking, she says, “Well I’m not the only one that’s onto something.” I blush and look down, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. 

She grabs a hold of my arm pulling me in the direction of the makeup-station she had created while I was changing clothes. Natasha starts applying makeup on my face.

I never have had a good relationship with makeup as it makes me dysphoric quite easily and also brings back traumas from my hyper feminizing eras. Don’t get me wrong I love makeup and dresses and all that stuff but it is not just make up or dresses in the eyes of trans people. At least not while feeling masculine. It holds much more trauma than I wish it did because when I look at Loki rocking eyeliner in a masc way I will try eyeliner myself but looking at the reflection I will just be seeing the girl I have tried hard to get out of my life.

“And~ done!” I nervously open my eyes looking at the reflection afraid I might look at the girl I hate but I look at my reflection and for the first time in so long I feel comfortable with makeup on. The sight is a lot to me and I sigh in relief of the handsome boy staring back.

Natasha noticed my sudden change in body language and smiled knowing she did a good job. I stare at the reflection not wanting to look away and just take in every inch of the boy staring back. I force my eyes to look up at Nat.

“Thanks… I should have asked you to do my make up long ago!” I say smiling, catching myself starting to tear up. Nat just nods slowly with a smile upon her lips. I turn around in the chair standing up readying myself mentally for the party.

“Would you be a gentleman and lead me to the party?” Nat asks with a smirk tilting her head slightly to the side. Gentleman. I smile and take her arm in mine walking out of my room and down the long hallway in the direction of the elevator. 

When we reach the elevator it stops at our floor. As the elevator doors open it reveals Sam and Bucky standing talking probably on the way to find Steve. Walking into the elevator both Sam and Bucky check Nat out Sam of course being the most obvious. 

“Looking good widow.” Sam says with a grin forming on his face as he walks out. Bucky smiles at me on his way out and I smile back awkwardly.

“You look good too buddy.” Bucky says squishing my shoulder.

When the elevator door closes my smile falters a little just for a second but Nat sees it anyway. She smiles at me reassuringly and the elevator goes down.

~Time skip~

On the way to the party after Nat and I got out the elevator we ran into a whole bunch of people. First off we found Thor which really is not hard when he is at least 6’4 and talks very loudly. Then Coulson, Barton and… Fury, which had me questioning a lot. I also spotted Elon Musk over in the corner together with some business people. Then we met Maria and that was when Nat departed from me. I am now sitting alone on one of the bars chairs drinking my well deserved drink. 

This party has already been a total flop for me. Well besides from the acknowledging nod from Loki at the beginning of the party. People have either been ignoring me which I am fine with most of the time but not when it’s my friends, or I have been misgendered. I don’t find myself that feminine. I shouldn’t have put on the make up anyways.

Sitting deep in thought, I don't even realize when Loki takes the seat next to me.

"Hello, Y/n," he says with a small smile.

I turn to him, surprised. "Oh, hi Loki," I say, trying to hide my shock.

"I see you've gone for a green theme tonight," he says, gesturing towards my outfit.

I nod. "Yeah, I guess I have."

Loki leans in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, green is the color of envy."

I raise an eyebrow, not sure where he's going with this. That was definitely not the comment I had thought of when I went with the colors.

"Envy is a powerful emotion, Y/n," he continues, "It can drive a person to do great things, or it can consume them entirely."

I nod slowly, not sure where this is going.

"You seem to be struggling with something," Loki says, his eyes searching mine. "Is it the makeup?"

I hesitate before nodding. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Loki nods understandingly. "I know how that feels. But you should know that makeup doesn't define who you are. You are so much more than just your appearance."

I look at him, surprised by his words. I never thought I would find myself seeking advice from the god of mischief.

Loki continues. "It's okay to experiment and explore different aspects of yourself. But don't let it define you. You are more than just your gender identity."

I nod slowly, taking in his words. "Thank you, Loki. I needed to hear that."

Loki smiles at me before standing up. "I have to go find Thor now. But remember what I said, Y/n. You are more than just your appearance."

As he walks away, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him. I take another sip of my drink, feeling a bit better. Maybe this party won't be such a flop after all.

#loki #loki x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #trans reader #trans male #trans #male reader #x reader #yn #reader insert #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark

[xpurdyglambertx]

Cute little oneshot fic of FtM Young Sam coming out to Dean! Just finished, freshly posted for your reading pleasure 💞

#supernatural #dean winchester #spn #sam winchester #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #young sam #young dean #supernatural fanfiction #spn fan fiction #spn fanworks #trans sam winchester

[theaxolotlkween]

I finally updated my Supernatural and Danny Phantom crossover. 

Summary:

Danny has been on the run for several days after an incident with his godfather forced him to escape from Wisconsin. He doesn't expect for a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala to pull over or the hunters driving it to rescue him and basically adopt him.

#danny phantom #supernatural #superphantom #danny phantom fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #danny fenton #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #trans danny phantom #dean x castiel #destiel #vlad plasmius #theaxolotlwrites

[lemonous-snake]

Title: The Son His Father Never Wanted

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: T

Warnings: Difficult representation of mental illnesses & coping mechanisms through John Winchester's delusions of the supernatural

Tags: Sam Winchester-centric, Trans Male Sam Winchester, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, John Winchester Not Being an Asshole, Supportive Dean Winchester, Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Episode: s01e01 Pilot (Supernatural)

Summary:

"Whoa, hey," the guy Sam's wrestling with says. He knows that voice. It's been about five years, but that's—

"Dean?" Sam asks. His stomach clenches uncomfortably.

"Uh. No. Yeah? I think I'm in the wrong apartment."

Sam lets go of his brother's shoulder.

"I'm lookin' for my sister."

"Um," Sam says.

-

In which Sam transitions while at Stanford, I rewrite the Pilot for the second time, and I project a lot onto Sam. For Sam Week 2023 LGBT+ Sam | Favourite Sam Relationships.

Event: Sam Week 2023!

#sam winchester #samweek2023 #lemon's fanfics #trans sam winchester #trans pride #supernatural #episode rewrite #fanfiction #notalemon

[trans-reader-fics]

Safety — fatherly!Castiel x trans!reader (he/him)

TW/CW: Transphobia, dysphoria, canon typical violence, swearing, mentions of s/icide, references to sh.

Summary: (y/n) ran away from his transphobic home and unknowingly stumbled into a djinn’s lair. Thankfully, the Winchesters and their angel were there to help him. 

--------------------------------------

(y/n) shoved his clothes into a worn out duffel bag. He couldn’t stay for any longer; this house was suffocating him, draining him of his will to live, and it became an undeniable fact that he was not welcome anymore. The people who raised him surrendered their title of parents by issuing him an ultimatum. He could either shove himself back into the closet, resigning himself to a suicidal fate, or get the fuck out of their life. So get the fuck out he would. 

He rummaged through every pocket he owned, scraping together as much spare change as possible. He had enough to buy a bus ticket out of town, far away from anyone who knew him. The prospect of nobody caring enough to look for him lingered in the back of his head, only strengthening his resolve to leave. He would not be missed. He would not be hurting anyone.

It would be cheaper to just off yourself. Really, it’s a huge waste to put all this effort in when there’s an easier way out. He entertained these thoughts for longer than he should have, dwelling on them as he walked out the door and began his new life. It was a long walk into the city.

By dusk, (y/n) was exhausted. He had been walking for hours, and in the distance, he saw a warehouse. In better circumstances, he would never consider it. But as it grew nearer, he realized just how heavy his body was, and how dearly he just wanted to collapse into bed.

The warehouse door was already open and (y/n) walked right in. He tiptoed deeper into the building, stepping over empty bottles and cigarette butts. Finding an isolated corner, he curled up against the wall and searched his bag for a blanket. “Damn it,” he grumbled, settling for covering his body in an oversized hoodie. Whispering voices kept him awake for a little while, but he drifted off to sleep, blaming the hisses on his exhaustion. It had been a long day, and he always did have an overactive imagination.

“(y/n)!” His mother called for him. “Wake up, you’ll be late for school!” He stretched and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, before promptly falling back into bed. He hears stomping up the stairs, but he’s not afraid. She pulled the blankets off of him, lovingly ruffling his hair. “Hey! Another late night?” she laughed, her voice tinkling like bells. “C’mon, breakfast is on the table. I’ll drive you, so you don’t have to catch the bus.” She pulled the curtains open, revealing the beginnings of a sunrise. He groaned, rolling out of bed and onto his feet. 

“I’m awake, I’m awake. Had a long night,” he yawned. “Looking for scholarships.” He began pulling on his clothes as soon as he stepped into the bathroom, tugging on a binder and black jeans. “Hey mom?” He popped his head out of the bathroom door, catching his mother right before she descended the flight of stairs. She smiled gently, turning to face him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, hon. Now hurry up! Your food is getting cold.” He laughs before closing the bathroom door and putting the rest of his clothes on. He was so much more confident now that he was out of the closet. Everyone in his life was supportive, and a warmth radiated in his chest. He ran downstairs to eat his breakfast. He approached the kitchen, seeing his father sitting in the same place he always did. 

“Good morning son,” he smiled over his laptop, the clicking of the keys never ceasing. “You might be a little bit late for the bus.” He checks the little white clock hanging over the stove. 

“I’m driving him, honey.” His mother comes over and kisses her husband on the cheek. “Speaking of which,” she looks up at her son. “We gotta head out soon, okay?” She smiled, but it wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. “(y/n), o-” 

“-kay? Are you okay?” a deep voice asked. “Hey, can you hear me?” (y/n) groaned as someone placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Head hurts.” He grimaced as he tried to open his eyes. “Who are you? I was having such a nice dream.” 

“We,” the man paused, “We’re the Winchesters. You were kidnapped, and monsters found you. But it’s okay, you’re safe now. The monsters are,” the man paused, “dead, they’re dead.” (y/n) finally managed to open his eyes, and he looked around the room. It was even darker than before, but the building looked the same.

“Kidnapped?” He mumbled, still woozy. “That can’t be right, I’m in the same place. I fell asleep. I need to catch the bus out of here.” He felt for his jacket pocket, discovering that he no longer had a coat on, just a loose t-shirt. “Oh fuck. Where’s my coat?” He began to shift, but the man holding him kept him in place. “Hey, let go of me.” He tried to push him off, unsuccessfully. “Let go of me, where’s my fucking coat?” It had been a long time since he had worn only a short sleeved hoodie, although there were seemingly bigger issues at hand.

A tall man with long hair held up a jacket, his jacket, and fished through the pockets. He pulled out a knife, which he placed on a nearby table, and then found the bus schedule. “Uh, Dean?” The tall one looked at his...brother? and pointed at his ticket. “This bus left over 24 hours ago.”

(y/n)’s eyes widened and he bolted up, catching even Dean by surprise. “My bus left? I slept for over a day? What the hell is going on right now?” 

The tall one bolted over to the distressed teen. “Woah. Let’s start closer to the beginning. My name is Sam, Sam Winchester. That one is Dean, he’s my brother. What’s your name?”

(y/n) took a few deep breaths before answering. “My name’s (y/n). I wasn’t kidnapped.”

Dean looked at him, head tilted in confusion. “Where did that come from?” 

“You said I was kidnapped,” he grumbled. “Earlier, when I was lying over there. I wasn’t. I fell asleep in this warehouse. Not,” he paused, his voice trailing off as he thought. “Not over here, but it’s definitely the same place.”

Dean looked at his brother, then back at (y/n). “Okay, well then, where do you live? We’ll take you home, back to your family.”

(y/n) scoffed, his legs shaking as he walked over to his jacket. “Nope,” he slid the knife back into his pocket. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I need a ride into town.”

“(y/n),” Sam shot a pleading look in his direction. “It’s not safe, you’re a kid. Just let us take you home.”

“Look, I’ll spell it out for you. I was kicked out. I’m not welcome there anymore, and even if I was, I’m fucking done. I’m not going back.” He sighed, shrugging his coat on. “Sucks, but it’s what I’ve got.” 

Dean huffed in exhaustion. “Look, we’ll drive you home, explain to your folks that you almost died. If they still don’t want you, then we’ll drive you to the bus station and you’ll be on your merry way.” 

“Oh, please.” (y/n) rolled his eyes. “Skip the denial. Just drive me into town, and if you really feel that bad for me, I wouldn’t say no to a bagel.”

Dean stared at the kid and tapped at his phone, speed-dialing a number. “Cas,” he grumbles. “Sam and I need you. There’s a stubborn kid, and neither of us can talk any sense into her. Come do some angel shit or something.” Instantly, a man materialized in between them. 

“Woah,” (y/n) breathed out, “What the hell?” The angel grabbed his arm, and walked them into a different room. 

“You’re unhappy. Will you tell me why, or do I have to find it myself?” He stared straight at (y/n), his blue eyes barely blinking. 

“That’s blunt of you,” he laughed. “Look, I don’t feel like getting into it. Sure, do whatever.” The man reached over, pressing his hand against (y/n)’s forehead. 

Kicked out. Kicked out. Unloved. Die. Die. Die. Kill yourself. Die. Unwanted. He. He. He. HE. I want to go home. I don’t have a home. Please. Help me. Help me. Kill me. Fucking kill me.

He pulled his hand away. “You’re coming home with us. We have a,” the dark haired man paused. “We call it the bunker. You’ll be safe. I will make sure of that. They will understand.” He begins to walk away, still holding on to (y/n)’s arm.

“What’s your name?” He whispers. “And why are you helping me?”

“Castiel. My name is Castiel, and I am an angel.” He pulled the child back into the first room, where the brothers stood, waiting.

“Well?” Dean groaned, arms crossed. “Where does she live?” (y/n) flinched slightly, but Cas only stood up straighter.

“We’re taking him to the bunker.” With that, Cas led (y/n) out of the warehouse, and sat him in the backseat of the Impala, sliding in next to him. “I will not let anyone hurt you,” he whispered. “You’ll be safe with us. They will accept you. Now sleep.” 

(y/n) glanced at him, skepticism in his eyes. Cas saw this, and he slipped his trenchcoat off, draping it over the teenager’s body. 

“Thank you,” he whispered before dozing off, leaning into Cas’s side. 

He awoke to the slamming of car doors, and the faint noise of arguing. “We can’t keep the kid,” Dean shouted under his breath. “We aren’t parents, and if you haven’t noticed, we kind of have bigger things to deal with right now.”

“Dean.” The angel stated, opening the door to the backseat. “This is not a discussion. I can take care of him, and you were not the one to see inside his head.”

“So tell me,” he begged. “Make me understand.”

Tell him, (y/n) thought. It’s okay, Castiel. You can tell him. Almost as if he heard (y/n)’s thoughts, Cas replied.

“(y/n) is what humans call transgender. His parents were not pleased with this, and he is unable to return to where he used to live. I’m sure you understand that feeling.” He gently readjusted his jacket so that it covered more of (y/n)’s body, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Dean froze in his steps, his furrowed brows and clenched jaw betraying his rage. “We’re keeping him. Let’s get him inside.”

He sat up slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll be on my way tomorrow. I won’t be a bother.” Dean turned to look at him, and his face began to fall. 

“No need for that, kid. You’re staying. Besides, Cas would kick my ass if I let you leave.” He chuckled, while Cas let out a heavy sigh; (y/n) saw a hint of a smile cross his face as he did so.

“Rest, (y/n). We will talk more in the morning. For now, just rest.” Cas reached out and brushed a spare tuft of hair behind (y/n)’s ear. 

He woke in someone’s bed, in a tidy, barely lived in room, under blankets that smelled like cinnamon. As soon as he sat up, there were three knocks at the door. Dean walked in immediately after, and (y/n) could tell it was his room.

“Fuck,” (y/n) sighed, burying his head in his hands. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I stole your bed, didn’t I. Sorry, I should’ve taken the couch, I-”

“Hey, hey, kid it’s okay.” Dean smiled and sat on the side of the bed, next to his legs. “I offered, and besides, there’s plenty of rooms with beds in here. The bunker is huge.”

(y/n) opened his mouth to protest, but from the doorway, Cas cut him off. “We want to help you. Do you plan to keep fighting it?”

“I, um,” He took a deep breath. “I don’t trust favors. What do you want in return?”

“For you to try not to kill us.” Dean paused. “Sorry Cas. Wrong answer?”

“Wrong answer,” Cas confirmed, “But yes. Please don’t try to kill us. We want to help you, and you are welcome to stay with us. Indefinitely.”

(y/n) smiled. Something in Cas’s deadpan delivery made him trust the angel, and he started to get out of bed. “Thank you. All of you. I think...” he took a deep breath. “I think I’ll stay a while.”

#tw transphobia #cw transphobia #tw suicidal thoughts #tw dysphoria #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural x reader #supernatural x trans reader #x reader #x reader fanfiction #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel fanfiction #what the fuck is this honestly #ive had this in my drafts for so long #hurt comfort

[freakymcnastys]

“the chain” a supernatural book.

introducing…

dina winchester - played by sophie thatcher

buffy cunningham - played by riley keough

“caught between the tides of pain and rapture”

chapters list:

1. borderline

2. tba…

- love always, kat + devina <3

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #castiel #kevin tran #sam winchester

[platonicfanfiction]

Supernatural

Your Mistake [Winchester!Reader] (F)

Hustler [Winchester!Reader] (F)

Breakfast Time

Shirts Worn [Trans Male!Reader]

Lucifer's First Son (M)

Of Cats and Angels [Winchester!Reader]

Long Lost Sister Masterlist

#platonic fanfiction #winchester!reader #winchester!sister #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #destiel x reader #platonic x reader #male reader #trans male reader #non binary reader #x reader #supernatural x reader #spn fanfiction #spn x reader

[cas-coding]

If the drive to Stanford is hell, the look in Sam’s eyes when he sees Dean for the first time in years is worse. Dean knows he looks different, his cheekbones much more prominent and an Adam’s apple sitting under his chin. Sam nearly jumps when Dean speaks, stinging Dean to his core. He’d forgotten that this wasn’t what he used to sound like, that he had to pump himself full of testosterone each week, testosterone that he hadn’t managed to get any sooner than twenty-three.

That was long after Sam left.

The ride in the Impala is a quiet one, the tension between the brothers weighing them down. It wasn’t even about their dad or the hunt, it was about Dean. It was about how Dean’s chest is flat, how his voice is deep, how he actually looks like a Dean, how Jess had looked at Sam and said, “Oh, Sam, I didn’t know you had a brother too!”

Eventually, Dean caves, tired of Sam’s eyes on him. “Go ahead. Ask what you want to ask,” he spits, his hands tight on the wheel.

Sam sighs beside Dean, rolling his eyes before looking out the window. “What’s going on?”

“Dad’s missing, I thought I said that,” Dean replies, but that’s not what Sam’s talking about. He’s just gotta be sure before saying it all, making sure Sam actually wants to hear it, actually cares about Dean after all this time.

Snorting, Sam turns to look at Dean again. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Now what’s going on with you? You’ve,” Sam pauses, searching for a word, “Changed since i left, so I have to ask: was it me?”

“No,” Dean admits, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. It falls silent again before Dean clears his throat, snapping, “We’re done now?”

He’s not one to talk about his feelings; he never was. He didn’t say anything to their dad other than asking him to call him Dean, and besides a few smacks upside the head for not looking like Mary anymore, their dad was okay about it. It was easier to drag a son around than a daughter, Dean supposed.

They never talked about it, though. Dean would get mistaken for a boy on a hunt or two and as soon as they’d finish ganking the bitch, they’d all pile into Baby and then Sam would get nosy, asking why Dean didn’t say anything about being called John’s son. “Cause,” Dean would say, “It doesn’t matter. We’ll never see them again anyway.” That was the most they ever talked about it, and maybe that’s why rage bubbles up inside Dean when Sam speaks again.

“Dean, we’re family. Tell me what’s going on with you. You know what I mean,” Sam pushes, his tone sharp. His eyes nearly burn a hole into the side of Dean’s head before Dean pulls the Impala off the road, looking over at his brother.

“What is there to say, Sammy?” Dean snaps, looking out his window before biting at his lip. He had opened up this conversation, for starters, so why was he so keen on shutting it down? It wasn’t the end of the world; it wasn’t close to the scariest thing Dean had ever done, not by a long shot, so why did he want to open the car door and run, get as far away as possible?

Sam sighs, a big heave of air, and then he’s tapping his foot, shaking the car. “I just want to know what I missed. If you don’t wanna talk about it, whatever. Fine by me, but I’d listen. Just for the record,” Sam mumbles, and despite his low volume, he’s genuine. He’d listen to as much as Dean has to say, all because he’s a good brother.

Swallowing thickly, Dean closes his eyes, resting his forehead against the cold glass of the driver’s side window. It takes him a minute to sort himself out, put the words in the right order, but then he’s speaking, his voice rough as he explains. “Not much to it, really, nothing you don’t already know. I’ve been Dean as long as I can remember, even back before Mom died. I just got the chance to look more like it a year or so after you left,” he says, vaguely gesturing with his hand, “Snagged some medication, pump myself full of it every Thursday, and then boom. Voice drops, stubble grows in, cheekbones get all handsome. Magic of modern medicine, hey?”

“I guess,” Sam replies, cut and dry, and part of Dean is itching to look over at his brother, gauge his reaction, but he can’t, afraid of what he might see in his brother’s face. Eventually, curiosity wins over, Dean shifting just a bit in his seat to pop one eye open and take a glance, getting an eyeful of nothing. Sam looked like Sam, just like he had ten minutes ago, just like he had ten years ago.

Sam clears his throat, letting out a chuckle. “You can look at me, Dean, I’m not gonna bite,” he laughs, and Dean snaps his head up, making eye contact with his brother. “It’s fine, really,” Sam reinforces, “It’s cool. You seem like, I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, “You.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Dean snorts, “Took a lot to ‘seem like me.’ Time, scars, money,” he laughs, “’Course, none of the money was mine, but David Johnson’s going to get a hell of a hospital bill for the whole,” Dean vaguely gestures to his chest, “This removal.”

Then it’s Sam’s turn to snort, letting out a string of laughter. “Yeah, how many hunts did you have to sit out waiting for that to heal?”

“Well, tore my stitches out twice, but I was back in the game within three days,” Dean says, practically puffing his chest out. He shouldn’t feel some sense of pride over the fact that he’d stitched his chest back together with dental floss, but it did make him sound ten times more badass than Sam ever was, and that makes him smile.

“Dude!” Sam shouts, a smile pulled tight across his face, “The, like, number one rule of the universe is don’t fuck with stitches? What did you do? You fucked with your stitches!”

They’re both overcome with laughter, struggling to pull in air as they laugh so hard tears come to their eyes, and then Dean knows. This is what brotherhood feels like, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

#more trans dean winchester #oneshot #might make this a whole thing #ill put it on ao3 when im done but for now #just gonna post here #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #trans dean winchester #sam winchester #sam winchester is a good brother #pilot #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #trans

[pickledpascal]

Meat & Candy

Chef!Dean Winchester x Journalist!Castiel Novak

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Taglist open here !!!

Fic on AO3

Summary: Chef Dean Winchester is opening is brand new restaurant, Crossroads. However, before they open, he has been convinced by his Sous-Chef, Benny Laffite, and brother, Sam Winchester, to do an interview for the Chicago Tribune's food column.

The journalist for the food column just so happens to be Castiel Novak.

A/N: my first full length destiel fic.... this is so fun i love stealing movies and putting my favorite characters into them. this VERY loosely based off chef (that's it, that's the title of the movie) and some other chef type movies ive seen. this concept has been in my head for a while so, y'know, thought I'd share it with the world finally.

General Warnings: dean is still a very sad man (😞), swearing, implied/also explicit mentions of abuse and child neglect, food as a metaphor for love, romance, trans male character (dean), dealing with single parenthood, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of chicago specific things.

ONE. TWO. THERE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX.

#destiel fluff #destiel #deancas #dean and cas #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #trans dean winchester #spn #queer #transgender #trans men #jensen ackles #trans!dean x castiel #castiel #castiel novak #claire novak #sam winchester #benny lafitte #emma (slice girls) #jo harvelle #charlie bradbury #garth fitzgerald iv #lee webb #jack kline #crowley #zachariah spn #meg masters #cassie robinson #chef au #au

[fancifulpurposelesslovely]

ok so I figured out the only way I can really see Sam and Andrew getting their shit together enough to have the d/s relationship they deserve is if Riley gets tired of seeing them dance around it and almost break each other and throws a couple books at Andrew and telling him to NEVER speak of it again. So that might happen.

#fox reads books #summer sons #andrew blur #sam halse #riley sowell #look fanfiction is hard and they're so fucking d/s coded and i will not hear otherwise but i can't figure out how to make it feel REAL #but them being stupid and polyam trans grad student cousin fearing for their sanity might be able to do something about it

[sovengardeswag]

The Pines Files

After the events of Weirdmaggeddon, Dipper and Mabel are contacted by the SCP foundation and join the ranks. The adventure never ended, it just took a different turn. And now, years later, they're back to Gravity Falls, aka SCP-████. And it is up to them to investigate the ever-growing mystery behind the town and protect the most dangerous and important SCPs there are and face their past.

Chapter Two: All Around Me Are Familiar Faces

The good thing about being conscripted as a child was that Dipper didn’t need to be debriefed about where Gravity Falls was. He could just pack his stuff up, talk to his landlord, and head out. And that’s exactly what he did, packing just about everything he owned into a Uhaul, his testosterone in a cooler on the front seat to be safe. The trip to Gravity Falls was gonna be a bit of a long haul, unfortunately, but what was more American than taking an overly long road trip for a new job?

And to be honest, with the exception of a mixup at one of the motels and a lackluster lunch in Portland, the trip itself had been largely uneventful. The thirty-five-hour drive from Site-19 to Gravity Falls had been broken down into 10-hour drives, with sleep and meals in between of course. All in all, it took about three and a half days to do it, more or less.

But with all the drive time, even with the radio on, it gave him time to think. He hadn’t been to Gravity Falls in over two years, and Site-19 wasn’t exactly close; if he wasn’t taking all his stuff with him, he would have flown. That wasn’t to say he didn’t keep in touch however, he absolutely did. But he hadn’t seen the place in so long. It was bound to be different, wasn’t it?

And then it was the fact that it wasn’t his supervisor or even Dr. Casper who reassigned him. It was Dr. Bright. Head of personnel himself. There had to be a bigger reason to send him home than just potential. He figured that it was his experience with the site both during and after Weirdmaggedon, but was that really all there was to it? Why not assign him to Gravity Falls in the first place? It was honestly setting off his paranoia. What if there was some important assignment he had somehow missed in the paperwork?

It wasn’t until he was almost there that he remembered what the forms said. He hadn’t seen anything about a secret or a vital mission in those papers he signed. He’d probably be doing standard experimentation. Maybe even stuff he’d been doing ever since he was a kid. It could even be considered a well-earned break after working those five years at site-19.

But had he really earned it? He worked for three years in the anomalous objects department before working in the department of spectral anomalies. Plenty of people got way less after dealing with way worse. All MTF operatives got was a trip to the duck pond.

All Mabel got was a trip to the duck pond.

Best to not think about it.

When he finally arrived at Gravity Falls though, he found that not much had changed, Greasy’s was still there, the used car lot was still there- though it was clear Bud had retired- and no one seemed to move away. If anything, the little town had grown ever so slightly in the time he was gone. He wondered how much of it was foundation personnel and their families, and how much was just regular growth.

The real surprise though was when he arrived at his new building. Sure, he’d told his family where the apartment was going to be and he knew they’d be there to help him move in. What he didn’t expect was to be tackled as soon as he got out of his car and to hear a yell, “OH MY GOD, DIPPER, YOU’RE HERE!” Strong arms squeezed around him, damn near cracking his spine.

“Mabel!” He wiggled out of her grip just a little bit, the smile never leaving his face as he looked at his twin. “I had no idea you were in town! How long have you been here? Did work give you vacation time?”

“Nope! I’m here full-time! For like a month now!” She finally let him go.

“Wait, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Cause you said you were coming like a week after I showed up! So I wanted to surprise you!” She ruffled his hair.

“ACK!” He got away from her again, not wanting his hair to look any messier. “Come on, let me just get inside.”

Just as he expected, it was more than just Mabel there. Soos, Wendy, Melody, and his Grunkles. They even had a few bags with them. Housewarming stuff no doubt.

“Sorry if there was a wait guys, I had some trouble at a motel a couple of states back.”

Wendy went to mess up his hair, just as Mabel had before, Dipper batting her off as well before she high-fived him, “It’s fine dude, we haven’t been waiting long. What chu been up to?”

“Just a lot of work, getting ready to come on over here, what about you?”

“Just kicking ass!”

“Hell yeah!”

Then came a sudden and tight hug from Soos, “Dude it’s been way too long!” Melody then put a hand on his shoulder, telling him, “Yeah, it was like you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Dipper laughed, telling them, “Yeah, I’m sorry, I should have made the time. But hey! I live here now, we can see each other whenever.” He looked around and noted the distinct lack of a small child clinging to his leg. “Hey, where’s Ernesto?”

“Oh dude, he’s at camp, remember?”

“Already?”

“Yeah, school let out a couple of days ago, you just missed him yesterday,” Melody clarified.

“Augh, I should have packed up sooner.”

“It’s alright, dude, Ernesto gets that he’ll see you when he gets back. Plus, you’ll live here! You can just show up whenever!”

“Yeah yeah, that’s enough small talk! Get over here ya little goober!” Stan pulled Dipper in for a hug and a clap on the shoulder. “How’s Detroit been?”

“Site 19 isn’t in Detroit, Stanley.”

“It's in Michigan either way.”

“It’s been nice actually. Way too cold in winter though.”

“That sounds about right, the great lakes region is known for being quite punishing.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice. How was this year's trip?”

“Oh, it was great! I punched a Kraken in the face! And Ford here met up with his ex again.” Stan elbowed Ford, who couldn’t help but smile.

“I do admit that it was surprising to see Armand again after all these years. Especially when Stanley nearly jumped into the water after hearing his song.”

“Come on, let’s take the yapping upstairs,” Mabel interjected. “We haven’t even seen Dipper’s apartment yet."

The apartment itself wasn’t huge, just a regular one-bedroom. But there was a lot of stuff to bring up. The camera setup, all of Dipper’s dishes, even an aquarium, though it was currently devoid of both fish and water.

“Oh, dude, I didn’t know you kept fish!” Soos said.

“Oh, I don’t. I bought it back in January but I got slammed with work right after, so I never filled it. That’s gonna change though, I wanna start keeping tetra maybe.”

Mabel almost jumped at the chance to tell him, “Oh! You’ll be heading to Grenda’s then! Tell her I said hi!”

“Woah, Grenda’s living ing Gravity falls again? I thought she moved to Austria after she got married, or did something happen?”

“Come on, man, don’t be a downer,” Wendy ruffled his hair, “she and Marius just split their time. You really gotta keep up around here.”

“Right, I shouldn’t have assumed.” And with that, they continued the setup. With the aquarium right across from the couch, so Dipper could look at his fish as he relaxed. Once everything was set up, Dipper ordered pizza.

“Okay, so, we’re getting pepperoni and cheese and chocolate syrup for Mabel.”

Stan shuddered, thinking aloud as he said, “I don’t understand how you can eat some of that stuff, kid.”

Ford shrugged, “Honestly it doesn’t sound too bad.”

Mabel laughed a bit, telling them, “I just have better tastebuds than you guys.”

“More like way weirder tastebuds,” Wendy cracked.

“Sometimes I just think you’re making up how much you like that stuff just to mess with us,” Melody commented lightheartedly. And she further remarked, “It’d be a pretty hardcore prank, to be honest.”

“Honestly, I used to be way worse when I lived on-site and had to eat in the cafeteria. I would just go to the different stations and just put whatever was there on my tray and see what happened. But, like, I don’t do it all the time, I can eat normally.”

“I mean, you are pretty hardcore,” Dipper commented. “One time on site-19, I tried to replicate Mabel Juice for old time’s sake and almost got sent to the hospital.

That got a bit of a laugh and they spent the rest of the afternoon like that. Talking, catching up. Dipper could have honestly spent his whole life like that. Away from the stresses of testing, watching Mabel commit crimes against food.

When it was time for everyone to head out, Dipper bid them all goodbye and found that he had gotten a text on his phone from Ernesto.

“Did you make it home ok Uncle Dipper?”

Dipper smiled and texted back, “Yeah, your mom and dad came by to help, wish I’d shown up earlier bud.”

“Yeah, I wanted to help! 😫

But you’re still gonna be here at the end of the summer right?”

“Don’t worry bud, I won’t be moving for a long time. When you get back, I’ll have something super cool to show you!”

“Really? What is it?”

“It’s a surprise 🤫”

“I’ll just ask grandpa Stan then lol.”

Well, that settled it, there was no time to wait. He would need to get fish for both himself and Ernesto in the morning

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mason didn’t have any dreams when he slept. There was no alarm in the morning either. He even made himself an omelette with cheese and mushrooms; thank god for Wendy bringing the groceries; and got his T-shot done quickly when normally he was a bit precious about it. He felt good about unhitching the U-Haul and driving through town.

It wasn’t hard to find Grenda’s shop. Past the used car lot/psychic’s shop, next to the laser tag place and replacing the dance studio. On the way, it let him see just how many people moved here. He wondered which were loggers and which were agents. He was pretty sure the super tall redhead in flannel who looked like a Cuordoroy was a lumberjack, and the lady picking up a coffee from Greasy’s who had sunglasses and an earpiece was without a doubt an agent, but with others, it was hard to tell. Though he was sure he would find out in time.

When he got to the shop, he found that it was, quite predictably, called Grenda’s Pet Emporium. The sign itself was even pink and the lettering was done in a cursive font, perhaps more appropriate for a hair salon or dog groomer than for a full pet store. But that wasn’t any of his business. As Dipper walked in, he found that the place made use of the dance studio space to create a huge floor, showing off both the supplies and pets. And then he heard it.

“Guten tag!”

Dipper looked to the cash register and saw Marius with a smile and his hair tied back. The young baron looked like he belonged there, oddly enough. Perfectly comfortable in a pink polo and khakis. “Marius? You work here?”

“Ja! When Grenda and I are here at least. It’s relaxing and the people are polite enough, though they ask many questions. And I get to spend time with mein lovely wife and all these little animals.”

“That does sound like a nice gig. Is Grenda here by the way?”

“She is! Just wait for a moment!” With that, he headed into the back, returning with Grenda.

“Dipper! You moved here already?” She gave him a hug that absolutely cracked his spine.

“Y-yeah! I just got in yesterday! Mabel says hi by the way.” It was good to see Grenda hadn’t changed since he last saw her. Still the affectionate woman who’d befriended his sister all those years ago.

She soon let go of him, asking, “So, what brings you here? Besides saying hi, I mean.”

“Oh, I actually came to buy some fish and supplies. I already have a filled tank so I just need some water conditioner, a heater, and some decorations.”

“What species were you thinking of,” asked Marius.

“I was thinking maybe tetras, but honestly, as long as it’s fresh water and won’t eat other fish, it works for me.”

“That’s great, 'cause we’ve got a bunch of tanks that I just stocked.” And so she led Dipper to the aquatics section. And she wasn’t kidding about the selections. She had tetras, suckers, goldfish, and more. All with meticulous care guides seemingly written by Grenda herself. Tellingly, she had no bettas in sad little cups. He was honestly pretty impressed and feeling almost serene watching so many fish.

That was immediately shattered when he heard, “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Pine Tree home after all this time.”

Dipper nearly jumped at it, almost in disbelief. It couldn’t be, could it? He looked in the direction of the voice and saw a tank with only one resident. A yellow axolotl that was missing an eye. And though axolotls couldn’t make faces, Dipper could have sworn this one looked smug. “No, it can’t be,” he muttered to himself. He must have been going crazy.

“But it is, Pine Tree. Did you miss me? It’s been what, 18 years? You’ve really grown up, huh? At this rate, you’ll be a corpse soon. Speaking of, how’s Fordsy?”

Dipper blinked. What the hell? Was this axolotl even real? Dipper turned to Grenda and asked, “Hey, what’s this guy’s story?”

Grenda looked in the tank and, much to Dipper’s relief, rolled her eyes at the water dog, “Ugh, this guy. He’s an absolute nightmare is what he is. We tried breeding axolotls and when the first clutch hatched, this guy ate all his siblings! Even lost an eye in the process! And now he just lives here, acting all creepy and junk.”

Marius shuddered, “I still remember all the little gills.”

“And they were absolutely delicious.”

So Dipper definitely wasn’t going insane, but why couldn’t they hear the dream demon’s voice coming from the tank? Either way, he needed answers. And if this, reincarnation? Puppet? Of Bill’s was around here and could talk, well, he couldn’t just leave him. Who knew what else he would do? Plus people thought he was crazy at the best of times, the last thing he needed was to have a conversation with a Mexican salamander in the middle of a pet store. “So, is he for sale then?”

“Yeah, he is. But for you, Dipper, he's on the house.”

“Come on, don’t be like that, I’m worth at least 100 bucks!”

“Ja, anything to get him out of here.”

“Are there any fish he won’t eat?”

“Yeah, there are some species axolotls get along with, guppies, minnows, snails, that sort of thing.”

“I’ll take him then.”

“WHAT?”

“I’ll take the supplies and some tankmates too. So he doesn’t get lonely.” So Dipper could have some fish he actually liked.

“Alright, just keep an eye on him for a little while when you get home. Just to be safe.”

Dipper looked at Bill again and could have sworn he had a look of despair on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper’s fish tank was a dream. Extra fine sand made up the substrate, the water was perfectly heated, and it had lots of hides and artificial plants. In the middle was the best and biggest hide. A replica of Teotihuacan, currently occupied by the tank’s axolotl. And that axolotl was pissed as he sat within that hide. Staring at Dipper as he sat on the couch across from him, drinking a Pitt Cola.

It was Dipper who broke the silence, the pit in the bottle rolling around like a shitty version of a Ramune marble as he put the soda down on the coffee table. “Ok, first things first. You should be dead. Why are you alive and possessing an axolotl.”

“Axolotl.”

“That’s what I said, axolotl.”

“No, it’s pronounced axolotl. And anyway, who said anything about possession? I was born like this, kid.”

“That doesn’t answer how the hell you’re even here!” Dipper stood up and began to pace. “I mean, you were erased from Grunkle Stan’s mind. That was supposed to, I don’t know, destroy your soul. You’re not supposed to be able to reincarnate or whatever this is!”

“Wow, you sure like making assumptions. Who said anything about my soul? How do you know I’ve ever even had one?”

Dipper glared at him and picked up his soda again, taking a swig from it like it was liquor and not a carbonated, fake-peach-flavored soft drink. “Ok then, why an axolotl? And how did you avoid getting destroyed?”

“That’s the fun part, I didn’t. I was dead. But before Stanley got to me, I called to a being more ancient than any of the universes. A being of creation, merciful but firm.”

“Do you have any idea how little that narrows it down?”

“Shut up! Anyways, he heard me and told me I’ve got to be in another place, another time, another form. It just so happened that the form was in his image, the place was a nursery tank in Austria, and the time was last year.”

Dipper groaned, rubbing his face. “Ok, so, you got reincarnated by an axolotl god. What were you doing in Grenda’s store?”

“I lived there!”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Then I’m done talking!”

“Look, it’s not like you can exactly enact your plans anymore now that you’re in an SCP-foundation scientist’s fish tank-”

The axolotl opened its mouth and Dipper heard that horrible, maniacal laughter. A laugh that made his hair stand on end and that brought back memories of being 12 and incorporeal.

“No wonder you look so dead! I just thought you weren’t sleeping again, but no, you’re a stooge! A goon for some nosy zombies! After all this time, after all those heroics, you’re still someone’s puppet!” His gills flapped at the word heroics

“I am not!” Dipper slammed his empty cola bottle down on the coffee table. “You’re lucky that I’m not logging you as an anomaly! I should be bringing you into the office!”

“And yet that chatty, girly monster and her old-money, wife guy husband couldn’t hear me. If you turn me in, we’re gonna end up as SCP 30629313-1 and 30629313-2. You’re stuck with me.”

Dipper sat back down, glaring at Bill as Bill stared back with his one blank eye. An eye that betrayed much more brain power than any amphibian should have. And Dipper knew he was right. He couldn’t tell anyone at work that Bill was alive. Both for his own safety and the safety of others.

“Ok, but at least tell me why you’re like, you know, this.” He gestured toward Bill. “Why do you remember that you were a dream demon? Reincarnation isn’t supposed to work that way.”

“You’re funny. You think reincarnation is something that can be cataloged like that? No, even your foundation has a couple of reincarnations that remember everything, some that don’t know anything at all, and some that are in between. Like, say, that poor kid that they keep in her very own site.”

“Don’t even joke about that, man. It’s not like anyone wants her there.”

“Yeah, yeah, cold not cruel. Either way, it looks like we’re at an impasse, two monsters killing time.”

“Yeah, two monsters…” He sat there for a bit, thinking, before he went for his keys and told Bill, “I’ve gotta go. If you eat my fish, I’ll flush you down the toilet.”

“And risk her ripping you apart with her bare hands?”

“Yes, now leave my fish alone!” And with that, he left, heading straight to Mabel’s place.

There was no way in hell that Dipper was telling the foundation about Bill. And he didn’t want to be alone in this either. So she was the only person he could tell.

When Dipper arrived at Mabel’s house, he knocked and she answered, “Dipper, hey! Come on in!”

As soon as he walked in, Dipper heard sniffing and felt something touching his leg. He looked down and asked, “You got another pig?”

“Yeah, that’s Baby! Isn’t she just the cutest little thing?”

“Yeah, she is! When did you get her?”

“This morning!”

Baby proceeded to chew on Dipper’s pant leg. She was a black and white pig whereas Waddles had been just pink, with marks on her sides and one black spot over her eye. He picked her up and she squealed, so he put her back down and she trotted off somewhere. Mabel then finally brought Dipper into her living room and he got a good look at the decor. It was very Mabel, with a lot of sparkles and cats, but not necessarily in an eye-burning way. The sparkles, plentiful as they were, were mostly accents, the pictures on her pillows tasteful. Not to mention the comfortable-looking knitted throw blankets. It was as if a kindly grandmother discovered blingee.

“So, what’s with the visit? You already done unpacking?”

“Haha, um, well, no. You see, I, uh, have something to show you. And you have to promise to not tell anyone on site.”

Mabel’s expression went from a smile to a suspicious frown. “Dipper, did you try to break your way into the gnome lodge again?”

“That was one time and no!” He sighed and took out his phone, bringing up a picture he’d taken of the one-eyed axolotl, “He look familiar to you?”

Mabel, knowing Dipper wouldn’t mess with her about work matters, looked at the axolotl carefully, but didn’t see much wrong with it. “Ok, what am I looking at?”

“Mabel, it’s yellow and has one eye! Axolotls should be able to grow those back!”

“Wait, it’s not pronounced axolotl?”

“Yeah, no, it’s pronounced axolotl. But here’s the thing, Mabel. What else do we know has one eye, is yellow, and,” he gave a shout as Mabel shoved a pillow in his face. It had a birthday cake scent pack from Build-A-Bear in it.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Dipper! I know where you’re headed with this and it’s messed up!” She took the pillow away from his face so he could breathe. “What’s making you think that anyways? Did a ghost haunt you from Site-19 or something?”

“No! I’m sorry! But it really is Bill. He talked to me in the shop and everything. So I bought him from Grenda and put him in my fish tank for containment.”

“And you’re sure he’s actually talking? It’s not just another ghost you picked up?”

“Yeah, I even have proof.”

Dipper swiped through his phone then, pulling up a video of the back seat of his car, focusing on the axolotl in one of the plastic transport bags. Dipper could hear Bill yelling as he pawed at the bag and thrashed, “THIS IS INHUMANE PINETREE! AN AFFRONT! RELEASE ME! JUST DROP ME OFF IN A LAKE OR SOMETHING! MASON!” And then the video stopped, not wanting to film too long for the sake of his fish.

He looked at Mabel and she blinked. “Dipper, I didn’t hear anything. Was I supposed to?”

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s weird but it’s not anything I would call headquarters over.”

Dipper sighed, running his hand through his hair. Had he just hallucinated that? He figured that if he could hear it, then maybe through being twins, Mabel could hear it. He had clearly been wrong. But then, if it had been a hallucination, he wouldn’t be hearing it on the video.

Mabel looked at him and, seeing her brother sad and despondent, got an idea. “How about we head to your place and you let me see him? Two eyes are better than one, after all. Besides, Baby needs to get to know her uncle.”

“You know what? Yeah, let’s go. Seeing him in person will probably be better.”

With that, they headed to Dipper’s car, Mabel putting Baby in the back seat and buckling her with a dog seatbelt. As they drove, Mabel got on her phone and started texting. She asked Dipper, “You already pick out an outfit for what you’re wearing to dinner tomorrow?”

“Ugh, I almost forgot about that. I haven’t even unpacked all my clothes yet.”

“You haven’t even been back a day and you’re forgetting about family stuff? Dipper I thought you agreed to move here to not have work on your brain all the time.”

“Can we not do this? I mean, Mabel, this isn’t some cursed app. Bill nearly killed us when we were just kids.”

“Uh, yeah! I was there Dipper!” She sighed and pinched her nose. “You know what? Forget I said anything. I’ll help you unpack when we get there.”

Baby snorted in the backseat.

When they got to Dipper’s building, Mabel flashed her badge at the front desk so fast that they thought it said CIA to let her bring a pig in.

“Mabel, what the hell?”

“Oh like you’ve never done it before Dipper, it was just to get Baby in,”

“Well, I haven’t,” Dipper lied.

Mabel just hummed and said, “If you say so.”

When they walked in, they found the tank right where they left it, with Baby going off to explore. Furthermore, Bill had, luckily, left his tankmates alive. But he was digging around the sand at the bottom of the tank much more energetically than an axolotl should be. When he detected that he was being watched, he stopped and started floating instead, looking as innocent as a newborn puppy.

“What are you doing?”

“None of your business.” He looked at Mabel and couldn’t help but comment, “Shooting Star didn’t believe you, huh?”

“No, she did, she just wanted to see you for herself.”

“What’d he say, Dipper?”

“He thinks you didn’t believe me.”

“And what was he doing?”

“It’s supposedly none of my business.”

“It IS none of your business.”

“It is my business because if you clog up the filter you’ll kill my other fish.”

Bill almost seemed to squint and Mabel definitely noticed it. She watched as he swam to his temple hide and saw how comfortable he looked in a pyramid structure. But she had to be sure, “Can he understand me, Dipper?”

“Loud and clear.”

So, Mabel went fully up to the tank and asked Bill, “What was the first thing I found in my prison bubble?”

Bill stared at Mabel with his one good eye, his front foot digging into the sand as if he was stimming while he thought. “The bubble was an automated spell that read your mind and gave you whatever you wanted. I didn’t enchant squat in there, kid. What I did do is grab your pig and drop him in. You humans just love your pets, after all. He would have been one of the first things you saw.”

“It was Waddles, the real Waddles. He didn’t personally give you anything else. You thought up that whole world.”

Mabel nodded, “Yeah, that’s right. I found Waddles and everything came later. But why is it that only you can hear him?”

“Who said only Pine Tree can hear me? I don’t remember piloting your meat suit around.”

“It seems like it’s cause he possessed me?”

“Do I wanna know his exact words?”

“Not really, no.”

Mabel sat on the couch, Dipper joining her, and Baby came by, wanting up too. Both humans stared at the tank as Bill stared back at them.

“So, what are you gonna do? It doesn’t exactly look like your setup’s temporary."

“I don’t know Mabel. He’s not exactly anomalous except for the whole talking to people he possessed. “

“Yeah, you and Ford would be part of his case file then.”

“So I have to stay here,” Bill interjected

“Yeah, I have to agree, looks like he’s staying,” Dipper said.

“We telling anyone?”

“See, that’s the part I’m not sure about, Mabel. Because who are we gonna tell? Ford? He’s just gonna get worried. Mayor Tyler? He’s just gonna taze us. Gideon?” Out of the question.

Baby snorted as she got comfy on the couch and Mabel sighed. “You’re right, it’s just, ugh, it’s another secret we have to keep.”

“I know, Mabel. But we have to. Until we figure out what’s up at least.”

Mabel cracked her neck and nodded. “Until we figure out what’s up.” She then got up. “Let me go help you unpack. We’ve got to get you dressed for tomorrow!” She then ran to Dipper’s bedroom. A threat that she was going to come up with something truly horrific to wear while she rifled through his clothes.

And Dipper couldn’t laugh as he told Mabel, “Don’t even think about He had to try and prevent her from seeing how many of the same shirts he owned. They didn’t see Bill go back to his digging.

Afa vlr qefkh vlr tbob pxcb

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If you liked this fic, please check out my writing tag (Sam writes and sam’s writing) here on tumblr. For author notes and the previous chapter, check the links in the reblogs. The hint for this chapter's code is 3 back

#sam speaks #sam writes #sam's writing #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #scp foundation #scp foundation fanfiction #dipper pines #trans dipper #mabel pines #stanford pines #stan pines #grenda #marius gravity falls #soos ramirez #melody gravity falls #bill cipher #mabel gets a new pig yay #nothing bad in this chapter so no mature label

[wolfie180g]

Sink or Swimchesters is almost done! I think I'm one chapter from finishing this poor fanfic. I started it back in 2019 and it had been a *very* long time coming. but I promised myself to have it done before Easter. I 'gave up' procrastinating on it. Once it's done, I'm hoping to have a finale for the other two WIP's that I have. Soul Survivors and Shenadragons. My biggest problem for all three of the fanfics is that I had no idea how to end them. and even now, I didn't have an ending for Sink or Swim until like two days ago when I work-shopped it in my head after a relaxing shower lol just letting the ol noodle wander until a story fell out. I want to make it satisfactory and if it isn't then I'll work on it after it's done. sometime in the future when inspiration hits again.

I like the ending, and in the next 9 days or so, gonna refine and finish it. Wish me Luck!

(at this rate the pictures for the last three chapters will be long after it's done lol)

Please please send some comments criticisms or concerns and kudos my way? lemme know y'all are out there and want the other fics finished as well, it fuels us writer-types :)

#Sink or Swimchesters #supernatural #shut it wolfie #dean winchester #wolfie180g #giant/tiny #sam winchester #fanfic #Balthazar #Jack Klein #Kevin Tran #Mermen #Mermaid #Mermay #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic