#class and supernatural

[shallowseeker]

Don't you love that when Zachariah throws classist, fetishistic bullshit at Adam, it spectacularly backfires?

///

Zach almost LOSES Adam with this line. Why?

ZACHARIAH: So you know you can’t trust them, right? You know Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other, right? ADAM (looks suddenly steely, staring through Zachariah): I don’t know. They said a few things about you. ZACHARIAH (becomes visibly angry): Really?

///

Zach has misread Adam's sense of class. That nice home that Adam and his mom have together came at a huge sacrifice: their time together.

Adam is, at his core, the son of a single mom. His whole childhood is colored by it, and he's well-acquainted with the inevitably rude/incestuous "mama's boy" taunts it comes with.

This was telegraphed and set up earlier in the episode:

ADAM: You see, it was me and it was my mom. That's it. She worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. I cooked my own dinners. I put myself to bed.

Yeah, Adam "read" Zachariah's taunt for the filth it was.

[ruushes]

companions re-classed part 3 - shadowheart 🌌🌚🌝

*shadowdancer isn't a 5e rogue subclass, it's a 3.5e rogue-based prestige class, but it suits her so well and when i played 3.5e as a kid i thought it was the coolest thing ever lol so i wanted to use it

karlach 🔥 wyll ⚔️

[somethingbiblical]

happy pride aro people

[mischieviem]

That natural soup show or whatever

[kipkiphoorayy]

[paunchsalazar]

[miiishha]

heart eyes

[saltcxrcle]

twitches ⊹ s. winchester

summary: you noticed that sam twitches in his sleep

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

word count: 974

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, mentions of nightmares, teasing, one suggestive comment

a/n: wanted to write a little blurb about sam twitching in his sleep because my headcanon is that he does and i saw a video about it on instagram LOL

enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog! your feedback fuels me <3

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You exhaled sharply as your eyes snapped open, breathing slightly heavier than usual as you tried to blink away the images that were burned into the back of your eyes. The room was shrouded in darkness; your eyes could barely make out the dresser that was across the room. Your body was wound up tight before the arm that was wrapped around your waist reminded you where you were, and you sank into their arms. 

Sam’s arm tightened around you, his warmth reminding you that you were safe and sound in the shared room with him in the bunker. You took some deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. 

You didn’t know the details of the nightmare, the images slowly disappearing from your memory as you calmed down. Drowsiness riddled your mind, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter shut, your mind slowly slipping into unconsciousness. But before you could, you felt Sam’s body jerk against yours, his arm flexing against you, making your eyes open again. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Sammy?” You whispered softly into the near-silent room, save for the low whirring coming from the small vent in the ceiling. 

All you got in response was a soft snore that escaped his lips as he continued to sleep. You huffed a small laugh through your nose before shifting closer to him, feeling his chest against your back as you let the comforting embrace of your boyfriend lull you back to sleep. 

Your eyes closed and you could feel yourself teeter on the line of consciousness and sleep, but Sam’s body almost violently twitched against you again, making your eyes open again. You let out a low groan before slowly moving further into Sam’s embrace, shoving your face into his chest, wrapping an arm around him, and nuzzling into him, hoping that his body wouldn’t twitch again. 

Another soft snore left Sam, and his arm unconsciously wrapped around your waist even tighter, bringing you closer to him. Your legs tangled together, not knowing where he started and where you ended. You finally were able to go back to sleep, letting the familiar scent of Sam flood your senses and sleep. 

“You twitch when you sleep.” You told Sam as you stood at the stove cooking lunch for the two of you. 

You could see out of the corner of your eye that Sam was whipping his head from cutting the tomatoes on the cutting board to you. 

“What?” He asked, confused. You could imagine the crease that probably had formed in the middle of his brow, but your eyes were trained on the chicken that was cooking in the pan in front of you. 

You turned off the burner, took the chicken off of the pan, and grabbed another cutting board so you could chop them up for the salad that Sam was prepping for the two of you. 

“Sam, you twitch when you sleep.” You repeated, beginning to cut up the freshly cooked chicken. 

“No I don’t.” 

You chuckled lowly at Sam’s indignant tone. You threw the cut-up chicken in the spare bowl to be tossed into the bigger one that held all of the vegetables with the dressing. You quickly placed the cutting board and knife in the sink before turning to Sam, smiling to yourself when you saw the furrowed brow and pout on his face. 

“Trust me you do.” You gave his ass a light slap as you walked past him to grab the dressing from the fridge. 

You heard a huff and a mumble come from Sam as he continued to chop up the last few tomatoes and threw them in the bowl. The two of you made the salad in silence before you guys sat at the table and began to eat lunch. 

“Do I really twitch when I sleep?” Sam questioned after taking a bite of his salad, breaking the comfortable quiet that had settled between the two of you, save for your forks clinking against the porcelain bowls you were eating out of. 

You looked at Sam, who was sitting across from you. You nodded. “Yeah, I never noticed until last night.” 

“Last night?” 

“Mhm, I woke up last night, and when I tried to go back to sleep you twitched pretty violently against me.” He didn’t do it violently, but you wanted to tease Sam a bit. 

Sam scoffed. “I don’t think I twitched against you violently.” 

“You sure about that? I mean you weren’t the one who felt it.” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

Sam looked at you unamused, making you laugh gently at his expression. 

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t violent, but the matter still stands, you twitch when you sleep.” You tell him as you take a bite of your lunch. 

Sam shook his head. “Whatever.” 

His reaction made you smirk. “ It’s completely normal, I just wanted to tell you that you do since it kept me up last night.” 

“You sure it wasn’t the fact that I had fu-” 

“No! It was after that.” You cut him off, feeling the heat rise on your cheeks at the almost mention of what the two of you were doing before your nightmare woke you up. 

It was Sam’s turn to smirk at your flustered state. “It’s cute when you blush.” 

You pretended that your stomach still fluttered at his compliment and rolled your eyes. “Shut up and eat your lunch.” 

Sam chuckled, and the two of you ate in relative silence. Once you guys were finished eating, you put away the leftovers and worked together to clean the dishes. 

As you were drying your hands, you felt a damp hand on your shoulder before you felt Sam’s lips near your ear. 

“If I twitch in my sleep, then I’ll admit I hear your little moans when you’re having a good dream.”  

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

[an-android-in-a-tutu]

if during drunk driving discourse people were allowed to say don't way in if you don't drink then I'm gonna need everyone who doesn't work in trades to stop talking about blue collar Dean Winchester

[lonely-moons]

♡୭something good | sam winchester x reader, pt. 2

title: something good, pt. 2 (read pt. 1 here)

pairing: stanford!sam winchester x socially anxious!reader

warnings: once again a hell of a lot of overthinking, social anxiety, reader is yet again an (i say this with affection) awkward loser, sam winchester being a sweetheart, more m&ms (when do i get sponsored)

summary: you begin to remember your plans to just go at it alone, but it seems as though sam winchester is hellbent on ruining that

wc: 2,943

masterlist

over the next two days, the weekend, where you have no excuse to run into sam, your inflated sense of joy wears down. you wake up and wonder what's gone wrong, how a couple hours with the guy had managed to chip away your self-promise that you would just make it through college without caring about the social aspect. with choosing not to form any connections, so that it didn't hurt as much when no one would want them with you anyway.

you spend an embarrassing half an hour working this through in your head before getting out of bed on saturday. you know there's nothing wrong with being civil - it's not your aim to be an unwarranted bitch, after all - but growing attached? that's a mistake you've made time and time again. you know better now.

even though you and sam had exchanged numbers, neither of you appear in the other's phone over the weekend. not that you're actively checking. you illuminate the screen for the time, for the date, for the temperature before you head out to grab some dinner. it barely even crosses your mind that your inbox is empty.

and when you get a spam call on sunday afternoon, you most certainly do not almost fall off your bed in your haste to grab it.

when monday rolls around, you're the first to arrive in class. you always are. it's a tactical move that you can never quite give up, something that lessens the anxiety that's ceaselessly churning in your gut. you want first choice of a seat so that you don't end up too close to the front or back, where the students usually get picked on. the middle is your comfort zone, where you can blend in with everyone else. you're typically good at that, after all.

when someone slides into the empty seat beside yours, you don't even look up, assuming it's someone you don't know, given that that's pretty much everyone. only when there comes a light "hey" do you flinch slightly and stop digging around in your backpack.

"8 a.m. classes are just the best, aren't they?" sam rubs slightly at his eyes, and despite the exhaustion in his tone, the words come out through a small smile. not for the classes - for you.

"what?" you ask. it's the only thought in your head right now, and it comes out as majestically as it sounds bouncing around in your brain.

"think these should be illegal." he looks at where your hand is still stuffed elbow-deep into the backpack perched on your knees. "you get lost in there?"

you blink, shaking away your surprise even though most of it manages to stay latched on. "um..." your fingers move around, finally finding what you're looking for, and you extract your arm then unceremoniously dump the bag to the ground. it lands on your foot but you act like it doesn't. thankfully there are no 600-page hardback textbooks in there right now. "just... need a pen." you smile clumsily, waving it between your fingers. "got one."

now it's sam's turn to be taken aback. you're about to wonder why he looks like he's never seen a pen before, but then you realise which one you've taken out: the one designed to look like a syringe. you had found it in a joke store one day after going out for a walk in the local town. you didn't like leaving without buying anything - and you had thought it was pretty cool.

"oh, it's - it's not real," you say, pressing the nib to your arm and clicking the top. "see?" you internally roll your eyes at yourself - no kidding.

he looks amused, the beginning of his dimples starting to peek through. you try not to look at them. "well, if it was, i think i'd have to tell you you're in the wrong class."

the sharpness of your own awkwardness manages to deflate you. you had started off on edge with sam on friday, as you do with everyone, but by the end of the evening had felt comfortable. it's only been three days, yet you seem to be back at square one. you look around, frowning slightly now, thinking that at least it can't get much worse. "i don't know, half the people here look like they'd want to be put out of their misery." you're sure you'd make the top of the list but don't mention that part.

"they'd probably prefer something more effective than a syringe."

you click it again, offering sam a brief glance. "anything can be effective if you've got the spirit."

his eyes switch between you and the pen, that amused sort of light dancing in his eyes. "i don't know if i should be inspired or terrified."

"both?"

his dimples finally tip into full-blown as he agrees, "both."

for some reason it eases your tension, and you continue talking until your professor arrives, which ends up being much sooner than you'd have liked. it's much sooner than you'd like every day, because it now seems to be some kind of unspoken routine that sam comes to sit beside you in classes. there's been nine so far. not that you're counting.

you also aren't counting that you handed in your project four classes ago, which means that there's no obligation forcing him to be here. at least not of the scholarly kind. you can't stop yourself from wondering if he feels bad for you. if he realises you have no friends, and this has turned into some sort of pity thing - god, you really hope it's not a pity thing.

but he doesn't act like it's a chore. doesn't seem to be regretting his decision as he asks you about the newest book you're reading, doesn't mind when you start a silent game of hangman during a boring class after finishing the tic-tac-toe he'd initiated. doesn't mind that you sometimes need to pause in the middle of a sentence because your words are becoming too fast, too thick for your mouth to keep up with.

you try not to read into anything too much, which unsurprisingly doesn't work. it's just like you to get annoyingly caught up in anyone being kind, your usual clinginess always threatening to rear its head.

the next day, you're sitting in class wearing a top that never usually makes it out from the bottom of your closet. it's nice, nicer than something you usually wear while not being too over-the-top for a college morning. and you tell yourself it has nothing to do with seeing sam, that you just want to get your money's worth out of buying this thing on a whim. you certainly aren't wondering if he'll notice, if he'll like it, because it wouldn't make a difference to you either way.

you don't care.

that thought repeats in your brain like a mantra, bouncing around so strong that it keeps turning your head in the direction of the door. it's beginning to get ridiculous, which the antsy tapping of your foot so kindly reminds you of. you grab your notebook from your bag and begin to add to some of your notes, just to have something to do.

when your professor arrives a few minutes later, the seat beside you is still empty. you try not to feel disappointed - sam could be late, or maybe he's sick today. or, you think, when you spot him a few rows away from the front and talking to two guys, maybe that clingy nature of yours has made its appearance after all.

you wish you could say you imagined the sinking feeling in your chest, the wheel turning in your head that reminds you of why you don't usually bother with people in the first place. why you made your promise. you know it's irrational, that sam doesn't owe you anything, and certainly doesn't have to always sit beside you.

that doesn't mean you hadn't hoped he would.

when the class is over, you leave on your own. usually you and sam would linger for a few moments outside, talking until he really does have to rush off for his next class. you usually head back to your place, enjoying the walk through the campus. even before you can plug in your earphones, the chirping of the birds keeps your mind happy as you run over your interactions with sam.

now your earphones come out tangled and a crow squawks obnoxiously loudly in your ear. you huff, then it seems the world really does hate you as you feel a small stone in your shoe. the walk home is more of an angry march, your mouth set into a hard line and jaw clenched. your top's thin fabric makes it so that the wind raises relentless goosebumps on your skin. maybe you'll just go to sleep, ditch your class later and mark today off as not having existed.

you collapse into your bed immediately, not bothering to move the blankets. about five hours are lost after you've woken up some time in the late afternoon. the rest of the day is a bust, with you just half-heartedly getting some work done but mostly watching movies that aren't holding your attention either. you know you're overreacting, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care.

the next day, you don't have a class with sam until the early afternoon. you arrive late - by your standards - to class, after having snoozed your alarm one too many times, which drags your mood down even further. you pulled on the same outfit from yesterday, still piled on the ground, and hoped your deodorant would get you through until you could take a shower tonight. now you settle unhappily into a seat at the back, desperately trying not to watch the back of sam's head. you once again leave right after the class, heading back to your room but only making it twenty minutes before your stomach loudly complains.

you head to the closest place on campus where you know you like the food. it's a relatively busy fast food place, but not many people venture up to the second floor, so you're usually able to find a quiet corner to reside in. but you're here later than you usually would be, which means it's rowdier, and as you make your way to the queue, you decide you'll just bring it back to your place where you can continue the show you had started last night.

"y/n?"

you turn in alarm towards the separated queue that's designated for anyone only ordering coffee. sam is standing there, hands in his pockets, that usual smile on his face even despite the bags under his eyes.

you blink for a moment, wondering if you're still half-asleep. you somehow hadn't noticed him, despite his height, but you had been mostly sighing under your breath and watching your shoes. it's weird, though, how you're suddenly seeing him in here, when it's not a backdrop you're used to seeing behind him. but the light streams through the high windows, hitting his eyes in a certain way that draws your attention. they look expectant, a little amused, and you nearly debate running when you realise you haven't responded yet.

"oh." you shake your head, stumbling a little as some old guy in a hurry jostles past you. "hi sam."

"hey. you getting some lunch?"

you nod, still feeling a little bleary from your lack of sleep last night. "coffee?"

"yeah..." he seems to think for a moment, thoughts whirring about behind his eyes as he pauses. "hey, are you busy?"

"busy?" you ask, like you don't understand the word. "um... no?"

he shifts on his feet. "mind if i join you for lunch? my treat."

now you're really sure you're not following the conversation. this doesn't seem like the request of someone who's trying to shake you. sam easily could've pretended to not have seen you, or at least just said a polite hello. now he's offering to buy you lunch?

"you don't have to -"

"i want to."

you think about your promise to yourself, about just making it through college without giving much thought to friends or socialising. maybe you know that deep down you're being dramatic, or maybe it's the fact that the queue moves so that now it's your turn and you have to make a split-second decision. but you nod.

"okay."

sam's shoulders loosen and he steps over from his own queue to yours as you both go up and order. a few minutes later you're sitting at a booth. on the bottom floor, which you're not too thrilled about, but you did at least manage to get a corner. sam's got a salad, but you're starving, and looking forward to digging into your pizza and fries.

"i didn't see you during class," he says. "is everything okay?"

"oh, just... um... had a paper to finish." you take a bite of the pizza, wincing at how hot it is, but you know you'll just start running your mouth if it's free.

"ah." he nods, like it was the answer he'd been looking for. "i was wondering why you looked so busy in class yesterday. i didn't wanna disturb you."

you stuff another bite of pizza into your mouth, feeling horrible. you had practically spent the last twenty-four hours thinking he was another person who would just throw you away like something discardable. you know you overthink things all the time, but recognising that only seems simple in hindsight. and then whatever negative emotion it generates only dissolves into guilt, which hits you in full-force now.

"you know me," you smile, though it feels all wrong, "just... busy." busy mind, you guess, always managing to come up with ways to destroy you.

"i've noticed." it's lighthearted, which might make you feel worse. "you get it finished?"

"yeah. all done."

"well, good, i'll need you there tomorrow. i had to actually listen today."

your mind only just manages to push that first part aside so that you don't begin making a fool of yourself.

you know he always listens anyway. somehow manages to play the silly paper games with you and still take perfect notes. but you widen your eyes. "oh, the horror. maybe you should be laying down right now."

"should i get my vitals checked? maybe i need a shot - you've got that covered, right?"

the jab at your pen isn't lost on you. "yeah, sure, where do you want it?"

his laugh is abrupt, like it snuck up on him. you like it, you think, knowing that it's genuine. that you get to hear it before he can decide which way he wants it to be heard.

the conversation sinks into that easy flow once again, and only then you feel how much you've missed it. you keep talking until your food is nearly gone, just a few meagre fries left. at one point, sam leaves under the guise of wanting to get a refill. but when he returns, he's holding two small ice creams in little cardboard tubs.

you send him an unimpressed look, which deepens into a scowl as he refuses to accept your money. he was the one who'd decided you should have one, not you, which meant he had to pay. or so he claimed.

"so, no game of thrones t-shirt today?"

you look down, realising you'd never changed out of your slightly-more-fancy top from the day before. it hadn't felt like as big of a deal as it had yesterday, but now you're painfully aware that you're wearing it. how it clings to you in ways your spider-man ones certainly don't.

"laundry day." you shrug, a little too quickly, grabbing your drink. some of it sloshes down over the side of the cup, but thankfully he doesn't seem to notice. or, at least, care.

"huh... well, you look nice. it - looks nice, you know, the, uh... colour. suits you."

you watch him, confused. he looks a little shy as he says it, sinking down in his seat slightly. is he flustered? the stammering is usually your thing; while sam isn't arrogant, he does have a particular air of confidence about him. that seems to have dissolved entirely.

as if hoping to save himself, he reaches across and steals a fry from your plate. before you can pry any deeper into this, your face automatically drops into an expression that might be suitable for someone who'd killed your firstborn child.

"hey, i bought them," he says, snickering, and it seems as though the look on your face eases something back into him.

you hadn't even wanted any more of the cold fries, having been about to move on to your ice cream. but you like the way his eyes crinkle in amusement at your reaction. you grab the ice cream now, swirling the plastic spoon around inside, trying not to outwardly react to the fact that there's m&ms added in - which he obviously knows you like by now. you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the flip of your stomach. "this becoming a thing now? you giving me free food?"

"are you complaining?"

"depends. do i ever get to return the favour?" it's bold for you, something that slips out as a teasing remark before you can really dissect what it means. the kind of thing you probably should've thought out in advance - you have a feeling that the lost time worrying will be made up tonight as you try to sleep. you're not sure if you want to take it back.

sam doesn't react much, but you do notice the quick tick of his lips. "name a time. i'll be there."

never mind. you don't want to take it back at all.

when you get back to your room, you collapse against your bed like earlier. only this time, it's with a sigh of contentment. the thought only hits after a moment, as you're staring at some peeling paint on the ceiling, and it's so swift and striking that you feel as though you've been sucker-punched.

hold on - did you just ask sam winchester out on a date?

and did he say yes?

[lochyard]

Scrolling wincestblr in public is like playing a weirder version of russian roulette bcs its just

pretty normal sam post

wincest post

more sam post

random picture of ethel cains tits

bottom dean discourse

tumblr recommending me a photo of some dudes ass

even more sam

wincest mpreg

wincest ai blogs that get blocked immediately

[otaku553]

Need to write a 4000 word essay and take a neurobio final before I’m done with the term and both are due Thursday so we’re going back to the procrastination doodles again

[supernaturalrandomness]

Jensen mocking Jared for flirting with Gen on set VS Cockles at JIB11...

[coca-colas-truck-driver]

really wanna see a sam who got a normal upbringing and childhood bring canon dean home for a family holiday dinner before he goes to college, a 6’1 guy in a leather jacket two sizes too big covered in dirt, making dirtier jokes, he drives his dad’s car still at 22 and his housing situation is “complicated”, and he acts like a piece of shit till somebody starts asking sam something about stanford and what branch of law he wants to study and suddenly, sweetest most attentive guy you’ve ever met and mary can’t help but gush over him after he leaves and “oh, john, isnt he handsome!!”

[songofcodependency]

If Dean ever raped Sam, I dont think he would use force. He wouldn’t be the type of rapist to hold Sam down and take what he wanted. INSTEAD,, I think he would be the coercive, guilt tripping type. Sometimes Sam wouldn’t be in the mood, but Dean would ask him over and over and make him feel bad for saying no. Eventually, tired of the strain in their relationship and deciding it would just be easier to give in, Sam says yes.

Sam doesn’t really enjoy it, but Dean would still say something like “see you liked it you got hard”. Sam feels icky about himself for a few days after but Deans happily speaking to him again so it was worth it. Sam excuses and forgives, just like he always does.

[ye-anon-fanon]

So, there is this canon.

There are these two brothers. They are hunters. But not just any hunters, they are special type of hunter - they are hunters of otherworldly/magical/supernatural beasts/creatures/monsters.

From a very young age, the shorter (if only in comparison) but older not-so-special normal-joe brother was parentified and responsible for bringing up younger (very tall) very powerful and special brother - who was suspected to be weird and something bad/wrong/demonic from babyhood. The younger brother grew up knowing there was something wrong/demonic about themself, but the older one was oblivious to this, and just loved his little brother wholeheartedly.

Older brother spent most of his teen years doing odd jobs to take care of the younger brother and eventually dropped out of high-school because of his responsibilities since the younger brother was the "smart one" who was good at school and whose education was more important.

Unfortunately, the younger brother ended up running away from / leaving home as a teen, leaving the older brother - who largely defined their identity as someone whose job was to take care of their younger brother - feeling adrift and confused and lonely.

So the brothers have been estranged for quite a few years, before getting back in touch at the point when the canon opens. The younger brother has been doing very well for himself and is a very successful person as per societal norms, while the older brother is a washed out weirdo who has been living on the edge of legality and society and with a history of a drinking problem to boot.

They then reconcile and embark on a breathtakingly codependent relationship, as they also try to save the world.

At some point the younger brother dies in the older brother's arms - kneeling, stabbed through their back - leading to the older brother doing very drastic and desperate things to reverse the younger's death. This decision is a big plot-pivot point for both canons, which changes the trajectory of the plot and worldbuilding. This death is caused by the intervention of a demonic other-worldy entity, who feels overwhelmingly powerful at this point in canon, but ends up small potatoes and is killed by the the older brother in revenge.

The consequences of the older brother's desperate actions also end up causing even more powerful otherworldly beings from two opposing factions to get involved with the plot and the brothers' lives. While in the beginning it seems one side is good and the other evil, it's ultimately not so straightforward after all, and the brothers ally with and fight against people on both sides as the plot proceeds.

Along the way, they gain many friends, including some very badass women who have lesbian-tension with each other, and powerful kid(s) who are varying levels of adopted.

It gradually becomes clear that actually the not-so-special older brother might be the special one after all, given that he attracts crazy powerful people like flies to honey, including one case of millenia-old person, who gets to experience new and unique experiences for the first time in their long long life after encountering the older sibling and also dies way too often for a supposed-immortal.

This character and the older brother go through multiple breakup/divorce arcs without ever actually being together, and are canonically supposed to have a very special bond/relationship. The fandom jokes about this character's existence being genre-breaking and being difficult to explain as straight - he's the very definition of queerbait/stereotypical-BL character.

This queerbait boyfriend's signature look involves formal wear with a tie and a long coat. Despite being pretty traditionally masc presenting, this queerbait boyfriend is canonically utterly indifferent to gender (their own or others). At one point, he loses his memory and attacks the older brother with overwhelming force, but his "inner self" is able to take back control and stop himself from permanently damaging the older brother character.

So! Am in talking about the CW tv show Supernatural? Or am I talking about the knovel S-Classes That I Raised?

Both, it's both.

(Btw, I can't find the source of the above artwork, if anyone has the link please message me. Artist credit is included but i can't find the account anywhere T_T)

If I had a nickel for every bit of weirdly specific similarity between the two canons, I would have many MANY nickels. Which is a lot and also very weird. Anyway, this is the spoiler-free version, the version that spoils some later plot points and some vague trajectories of the endings of the two canons nets me at least 4-5 more nickels, minimum!

Anyway, read "S-Classes That I Raised", people. It's good. It's great.

And now I am craving a SCTIR SPN AU, where Yoojin and Yoohyun dress up as fake govt agents and fight spn-type monsters in the Korean countryside instead.

(Song Taewon is probably Victor Henriksen in this AU. Yerim is Adam, and both of them get a way better endings than the actual SPN characters.)

More images under the cut!

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