#you nod along thinking that's the basic bitch procedure you can do for yourself but then you.

[syrinq]

spending more time forming active coherent thoughts in my brain like "how am i feeling right now?" like i'm my own therapist to gauge how the current meds are affecting me, teaching myself the habit to actually stop and think before i say or act on shit

versus just blurting out whatever comes to mind first now, because i also am getting more aware of how much thought traffic there is and i want to talk about whatever car crash occurred, resulting in more brain farts than i'd like to admit

[matsumi101]

Who is this Kid?

Crossdressing Fem!Reader Hamilton Insert

Secret

Description:

General Washington has been relentlessly receiving letters one after another that has been requesting two same things over and over again. It’s high time he confronts the writer directly about it, and maybe clear something that he’s been hearing around while he’s at it.

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Warnings: swearing, drinking

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Notes:

> Masterlist

> Read from the beginning.

> “F/N” means fake name and “Y/N” means your real first name

> I don’t think I warned y’all before but I wasn’t really planning on writing chronologically. I’m not sorry lmao

> Surprise Wednesday update! I’ve been reading the rb tags and the replies you guys keep leaving in my story and honestly it makes my heart go 💞 aaa ily guys sm and im glad you’re enjoying the story 🥺🥺🥺

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Taglist (if u wanna be added do tell!)

@thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth  @cutie1365 @girlmadeofivory @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore  @takemyhand-bitch @hamiltrashqueer​

———————————

“Hey, Juggernaut.”

You adjusted your coat before pulling your tent open. “Yo,” you greeted quietly to the soldier waiting in front of your tent. “General Washington calls for you,” he informed you. You nodded and ducked out of your tent, not wanting to wait another second to know what your superior wanted to talk about. You walked at a brisk pace, never stopping until you were now in front of the tent that was noticeably larger than the rest.

You swallowed thickly, millions of possibilities running in your head to as why you were called. A big part of you hoped that it was with regards to your plans, though there was a smaller bit of you that feared that it might be of something else. Not wanting to keep yourself on edge any further, you pushed the tent open and let yourself in.

"Your excellency, sir. You asked to see me?"

You readily saluted at the presence of not only George Washington but the aide-de-camps and officers that were with him as well. They circled a table, where a map and a few mock pieces were laid out for them to view and move around. While John and Lafayette's eyes twinkled with recognition, the others simply stared at your arrival. "Private F/N L/N?" George assumed. He motioned you to be at ease, which you silently obeyed.

"Yes, sir," you confirmed with a steady voice.

George quickly dismissed the rest of the people out of the tent, the only ones remaining were you, him, and Alexander who was busy writing something at his desk at the corner. “I’ve been reading your letters,” George began, moving to get something from his main desk. You immediately tensed as he pulled out a small stack of envelopes underneath. You kept your lips sealed, waiting for the General’s input on your requests.

“You’ve been asking to have the same thing approved for years now,” he began, “and recently, you’re asking for a rather unique position in your unit, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

From the corner of your eyes you could see Alexander perk up slightly at the conversation. He subtly glanced up from his work, his eyes falling on George as the general picked up an open letter that had been lying on his desk. “Let’s talk about the first one,” George announced. “I’ve noticed there was a slight change with your offer.” You licked the bottom of your lips out of nervousness, fiddling with your hands behind you.

“Unfortunately, even I can’t agree to it.”

“If I may sir, why not?”

George looked up from the letter to you. “Women cannot be paid to study, son,” he explained plainly. You tilted your head the slightest, confusion from his statement evident. “Sir, I do not seek for women to be paid to be taught basic medicinal procedures,” you murmured, and that was enough for George to mirror your expression.

“That doesn’t seem to be the message I’m getting from your letter, L/N.”

You opened your mouth to counter, but when a vague memory hit you like a punch in the gut, you couldn’t help but to smack your forehead in realization. “Shit, I am so sorry,” you apologized, the annoyance woven in your voice directed to yourself more than anything. George furrowed his brows at your sudden drop of formality, noticing how you were cursing under your breath as you returned to position.

“I must’ve sent you my draft letter instead of the actual one. The pay that I mentioned in the letter refers to the pay of the nurses, not the education that I wish to be provided to them.”

Your face turned to more of an embarrassed one. “I... might’ve written this late at night so my thoughts merged while I was writing,” you confessed, looking down at the ground. “I apologize for causing a misunderstanding. Writing... has never really been my best suit.” You could feel the back of your neck heat up with embarrassment, and the blood was slowly creeping its way to your cheeks the more you dwelled on your mistake. George huffed, and you could’ve sworn there was laughter that came along with it.

“We have our own weaknesses, son,” he said. “Rewrite your statement, then I’ll have it sent to the Congress for approval. Hamilton.”

“Yes, sir?”

The called man straightened from his seat almost instantaneously. “If you’re not too busy, you can help Private L/N draft his proposal to the Congress tonight?” he requested. You looked at Alexander almost the same time he looked at you. “I take it you approve of his plans, sir?” he asked George, though it came off more of a statement than a question.

“Yes. If our nurses are given the same pay as our male doctors, or at the very least raise it, then there wouldn’t be any need for our officers to resort to... violent methods of recruiting them.”

Your jaw visibly clenched at the last few words, and George wasn’t dense to not notice it. “If we treat our camp followers properly, as we should’ve been since square one, then they wouldn’t be working out of spite or fear,” you pointed out through gritted teeth, “and by teaching them the required medical procedures to treating our wounded, then there would be more hands on our medical team without really hiring more hands.” Alexander nearly beamed at your words and hurriedly wrote something down on a spare piece of paper.

“That’s an excellent point F/N, I’ll make sure to include that in your proposal,” he announced eagerly.

You stared at Alexander with surprise while George chuckled in amusement. “Now, since we’ve cleared all misunderstandings for your first request, I take it we’re good to move on to the next one?” his voice wasn’t as light as when he brought up your first request. “Ready as I’ll ever be, sir,” you replied. George nodded, pulling a different letter.

“Private L/N, I’m sure you already know the contents of your own letters, so I will say right now that I just can’t approve you to a... what is this term you used?”

“Field medic, sir.”

“Right.”

“Field medic?”

Alexander wasn’t really supposed to be a part of the next conversation, but he couldn’t help but inquire about the strange new term he just heard. “Basically a doctor soldier tasked specifically to treat wounded men while on field and pull them out of there,” George explained, and you nodded. Alexander’s face contorted, and you sighed internally as it was the response you already expected to get from someone hearing your concept for the first time.

“I... I don’t get it,” Alexander murmured. “We can bring our men to the backlines just fine during combat, I don’t see the point of having a person to specialize in that.”

You were just about ready to explain, but then George put up his hand to stop you. “I can hand you Private L/N’s letters of proposal for later, son,” George reasoned. Alexander’s face fell, and the man buried his face back to his work. “With all due respect sir, I feel like I am fully capable of putting this concept into action. My endurance is beyond average to run around the field and carry our wounded, all I need left is some proper first-aid training.”

“And we need your endurance in the frontlines!” George retorted. “Juggernaut, you’re our best foot soldier, I cannot afford to send you to the medics.”

You nearly physically recoiled at the use of your nickname. You wore the title “Juggernaut” with pride ever since, and George knew. Your tendency to almost never use your gunpowder and instead resort to close combat was what earned you the nickname, and your commanders made sure to utilize you best for that. Simply put, your fearlessness to be up close with the redcoats was something praised by your fellow soldiers and feared by the enemy.

“Sir,” your voice dropped low. “Many men die bleeding out in the field when they could’ve lived if only someone had been there to pull them out, but the second they’re crippled they are not our standing soldiers’ priority. Moreover, many more die in the tents simply for having infected wounds that could’ve been survivable had someone treated it long before. These men have hopes of coming home to see the end of this war and what follows as much as any of us, even while they lay in their own pool of blood as the rest of the fight ensues around them. Sir, they have lives they want to go back to, too, just like us.”

When you were done talking, the air within the tent was heavy. Was it out of realization or just the sheer weight of your words, no one was quite sure, but the tension was so thick no blade could cut through it. “I can see you are as adamant in saving lives as you are taking them,” George mused, finally breaking the suffocating silence that wrapped around the three of you. He glanced down at your letter, hesitancy clear as day. Between the two of you, it was the sixth one you sent for your proposed role. For every letter of declination he gave you, you rebutted with a new letter no more than two to three days later countering his reasonings. For someone who isn’t the best at writing, you do write a lot, he thought.

“Let my hands be stained saving the blood of my allies than spilling the blood of my enemies,” you responded, quoting your own letter.

George huffed, setting down the letter. “I will... think this through for the meantime,” he announced. You resisted your mouth that nearly quirked upwards at his words; consideration was a good enough sign for you. “Thank you sir,” you breathed. George eyed you carefully, thinking if there was anything else needed to be said to you. “I suppose that will be all for now,” he decided tentatively. He dismissed you, and just after you thanked him for his time and turned around was then he remembered.

“Hold on, Private. I feel like there’s one more thing needed to be discussed.”

You looked over your shoulder, almost fearfully, as you moved away from the tent’s exit. George leaned back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a nearly blank stare. “I feel like we should address the secret circulating around you,” he pointed out. Your jaw dropped to the floor, a chill striking you from the feet up. A hand flew over your arm as goosebumps riddled your limbs, and you feared the worst.

“What secret, sir?” you asked, your voice nearly returning to normal with panic.

“Juggernaut, I don’t think we need to beat around the bush over this. Other soldiers have seen it, too, and you need to come clean with it.”

Other soldiers? The thought was everything but comforting. You always thought you had been discreet with your identity, but apparently you weren’t based on the General’s accusations. However, you kept your mind straight enough to keep droning on. Maybe it was just a mistake, maybe it was just a false rumor that was meant to drag you in the dirt. Yeah, maybe that’s it. You desperately wished that was it.

“It must be a mistake, sir. Whatever this secret may be must be just a measly rumor to throw me off,” you tried to reason out.

“Would it be considered a rumor if we have a witness?”

Your stomach dropped. So there are people who saw? That was definitely not right. You were always sure to have your corset on, only taking it off inside the tent, and whenever you bathe you made sure you were either alone or the last one out and never surfacing from the water. George glanced over to Alexander expectantly, and for the first time the secretary seemed to not want to partake in the conversation.

“Hamilton here has your verbatim.”

You could feel your palms turn sweatier as the seconds passed. You steadied your breathing, trying to calm yourself and stay reasonable. Alexander stared at George incredulously, as if he was the one who’d been ratted out by their superior. He looked over to you, and despite your seemingly calm stature there was nervousness in your eyes that spoke otherwise. Not wanting to lie, Alexander nodded almost apologetically to confirm. You felt your shoulders sag. Had you been too lax when you discussed about pretending with other disguised women? Or had you been too loud when you were rambling to yourself in your own tent? You feared what was next to follow, but if there was someone who bore evidence of your secret, then it was better for you to speak the truth.

“I apologize for deceiving you, sir,” you conceded, dropping your head. “I am more than willing to accept the punishment for my actions.”

“Funny, I figured you’d know enough the consequences of having more liquor than the daily rations you’re given.”

“Wh... what...?”

You tried to wrap your head around the new information. Liquor... daily rations... was that what General George Washington accusing you of this whole time? “Or is the excess whiskey your secret to your fearlessness after all?” George mused teasingly, and you shot up straight when it finally registered to you. “No sir, that would be my low sense of self-preservation,” you answered hurriedly, jokingly. Thankfully for you, George chuckled at your banter.

“Well, don’t think of dying too early, young man,” George advised lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

The tight feeling that was mentally suffocating you the whole time released your entire being. “Though, if it’s any assurance, my stash of vodka hasn’t really been consumed,” you informed. “If anything, I think the only time I made use of it was when I disinfected someone’s wound.” George sat up straight, a curious look flashing in his eyes.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who’d you heal?”

You paused, wondering if you should really say. “It was Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens.” You glanced up, noticing the inquisitive look both George and Alexander held. “If it’s any compensation for my troubles, I can offer some of my personal beverage. Surely, you’d like a shot,” you then offered, swiftly dodging the questions that might’ve followed your prior statement.

“And how will I know this is not a ploy to try on my good side, son?”

“Was I on your bad side this whole time, sir?”

“With the direction your letters were going, you might be at the tipping point of being so with the Congress.”

You laughed uneasily. “Rest assured sir, my offer is all in good faith.” George uncovered the mug that rested on the edge of his table, and you took that as the sign to approach. You pulled out your flask, which had been refilled from the much larger bottle that you were hiding in your tent (you wondered if someone that visited your tent before saw the bottle which led to the accusations), and poured a hefty amount into the mug, much to George’s pleasure. You waved to Alexander with the flask. “Do you want some too, Hamilton?” you asked him. Alexander stared at your flask, then to George, and then to his papers.

“Come on, son. It’s not everyday we have a little extra liquor,” George insisted, a welcoming smile on his face.

Alexander didn’t hesitate to come over to the table the second he got George’s approval. He brought his own cup, and you readily poured him almost the same amount as George. “Thanks, I needed this,” he sighed gratefully, the strong scent already wafting through his nose. The three of you shared a toast, and you took a nice, long swig from your flask. A satisfied growl emitted from each of you, the burning sensation running down your throat.

“Well sir, I should head out now,” you said quietly.

George nodded, and finally dismissed you. “Call the others back on your way out,” he ordered, and you gave a verbal confirmation before pushing one of the tent flaps open. You peered outside and saw that Lafayette and John were talking nearby. You headed to them, waving a hand to catch their attention.

“F/N! The General didn’t chew you out too much, I hope?” John teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I got out alive,” you joked. “The General requests you guys and the other officials to return, by the way.” John chuckled, patting your shoulder as he passed by. Lafayette ruffled your hair before he and John headed out to look for the other officials that dispersed in the camp. You sighed and walked back to your tent, the clashing sensation of relief and anxiousness washing over you.

Your secret was safe... for now.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Changing (3)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, X-MEN, DEADPOOL

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  Sequel to Name Calling

After merging with your bloodthirsty alternate personality things start getting a little dicey. You’ve got two decades worth of anger to sort through, a feral mutation to figure out how to live with, a biological father who you hate trying to teach you control and if your wedding planner suggests teal for the bridesmaids again you might just eat her liver.

Luckily you have Bucky Barnes by your side, helping you figure things out. What Bucky doesn’t know is that you have found an outlet for the uncontrollable rage, one that absolutely nobody can know about. If your friends and family knew that you were out slaughtering people in the dead of night while they slept, they might be a little annoyed. Wade Wilson is happy to keep your secret though, so long as you keep bribing him with Mexican food.

For as long as you could remember, all you had wanted was to be good. Now you’re seeing the temptation in the darkness.

Chapter Three - The Firing Line

“Do you want to bite down on this for me?”

You obliged him, biting down on the leather strap.

“Are you sure about this?” Bruce asked, yet again.

He did this every time, checked you weren’t going to change your mind. You wanted the chaotic disease gone, you’d endure whatever you had to. Even this. You nodded confidently to Banner.

“We’re taking tissue samples from the liver today, Dr. McCoy has a theory about the proteins...”

“gerf onwis hit.” You mumbled.

“Alright, making the first incision now.” He said and carefully sliced your abdomen open with the scalpel.

Ever since you merged with Vernichtung you had finally gained full access to your mutant abilities, including your accelerated healing. That allowed Bruce and Hank to have unlimited access to fresh samples. Bruce would word it a bit nicer but essentially he was loping bits off of you to study and experiment on.

You bit down on the leather strap and tried not to scream or be sick. Accelerated healing from the mutation and the super soldier serum meant knocking you out for the procedures was out of the question but at least he hadn’t decided to cut your heart out today. That had been a ridiculously unpleasant experience. Growing a new one had been worse.

The pain was easy to deal with, pain wasn’t a new experience for you, it was the strange tugging sensation that was making you nauseated. You closed your eyes and went to your happy place in your mind to get through it.

“Do you, James Buchanan Barnes take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.”

“And do you,...

“I’m finished.” Bruce interrupted your daydream and unstrapped your arms and legs from the table.

Your curiosity got the better of you like it did every time and you peered at the samples he’d taken.

“Wade would lose his mind if he saw this.” You groaned.

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

Steve stood in the middle of the room, the most horrified expression on his face. You looked up at him innocently.

“We didn't have any plates big enough.” You told him.

“So you used my shield?”

“He can’t eat off of the floor Steve!”

“So you used my shield?”

“I’ll clean it afterward, besides it’s basically a big metal bowl.” You said, shrugging.

Steve couldn’t stop watching in horror as Erlo tore at the raw beef you’d served him in the upturned shield.

“Cap I once saw you use that to bash a mans skull in, quit bitching.” Sam told him.

After the initial fear, Sam had decided that a pet lion was pretty cool and while he still wouldn’t get too close he was being supportive of Erlo’s presence.

“Is that good? Do you want some more?” You asked Erlo.

A wave of satisfaction washed over you from him and you patted him on the head before heading over to get your own breakfast off of Sam.

Sam shoved a piled plate of bacon and pancakes (there were at least 15 pancakes) at you and started the inquisition.

“So he understands English, he responds when you talk to him. But he doesn’t talk back?”

“No, he just sort of lets me feel how he feels.” You explained.

“How did that even happen? What did they do to him?” Sam said with a frown as Steve eventually dragged himself away from the horror show and sat next to you, helping you eat the mountain of food mama Sam had given you.

“Friday’s decrypting the files as we speak, hopefully we’ll find out something useful.” You said.

“Alright. Well on to better subjects... As your best man, I have made a decision.” Sam informed you.

You paused with a forkful of bacon halfway to your mouth and looked at him. He was grinning proudly and Steve squeezed your elbow comfortingly.

“I conferred with your maid of honor and she agreed that she would take the day before the wedding to throw you some sort of girly spa day and I get the hen do!” Sam announced happily.

“Don’t say it.” You warned.

“He’s going to say it.” Steve sighed.

“VEGAS BABY!”

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

“Miss Stark? The quarterly reports for you.”

“Thanks, put them in that little box over there.” You said dismissively.

“Miss? That’s the paper shredder.”

“Yup.”

The assistant looked utterly perplexed and torn. You took pity on him.

“Alternatively leave them on the desk and go get yourself a coffee, if anyone asks tell them it’s for me.” You told him.

He looked instantly relieved.

“Thanks Miss Stark!” He gushed, dropping the papers on your desk and rushing out before you could change your mind.

You sighed and text Peter.

You: Quarterly reports are a finance thing right?

You: Actually I don’t care, look over them for me?

You: Or alternatively lets blow this popsicle stand and go get a milkshake?

NOT Spiderman: I’m at school???

You: Ok.

You: I’ll pick you up.

NOT Spiderman: NO! I’ll come get a milkshake with you after school. Scan the reports and have Friday check them.

You: I’d be lost without you. You get an extra large milkshake.

NOT Spiderman: Ned’s making me ask if you’ll go to prom with him.

You: Sorry, bad signal. Can’t hear you.

You took Peters advice and scanned the reports.

“Friday, look these over for me?”

“Sure thing, and what exactly am I looking for?” She responded.

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling.

“I don’t know.” You growled unhappily.

“I’ll check over and discrepancies with past reports and compare them to track the company’s growth and draw up a projection for future reports.” She told you with what you were 100% sure was a sigh.

“Have I told you lately I love you?” You asked.

“Not nearly as often as I deserve.” She deadpanned.

“Set up a daily reminder for me to tell you. Is Erlo doing ok?”

“He is currently in your bedroom eating Sargent Barnes’s shoes.”

“Aww, that’s my passive aggressive boy.” You cooed.

“Your father is asking if you would like to go get pizza for lunch with him.” She passed along.

You looked around at the pile of paperwork you had to get through.

“Absolutely.”  

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

“So how’s work?” Tony asked as you bit into your third pizza.

“I’m learning a lot, like for example did you know that flying a quinjet to Chicago to get pizza is increasing our carbon footprint?” You said.

Tony snapped his fingers at you like you’d just come up with a genius idea.

“You are absolutely right, we should invent a cleaner way to power the quinjets.”

“Not what I meant but ok.” You said, laughing at him.

“That’s exactly what you meant. If someone thinks you said something smart, never correct them.” He told you seriously.

“Can I ask you something?” You prodded.

“You just did.”

“Alright, enough with the dad jokes.” You said, chucking a scrunched up napkin at him which he batted away.

“Alright, ask away.” He said.

“Are you trying to groom me to take over the company?”

You’d overheard some people gossiping about it in the office earlier that day and it was weighing on your mind.

“Would it be a bad thing is I was?” He asked.

“I don’t know that I’m a businesswoman, dad. Even if I wanted it, I don’t think I’d be any good at it.” You admitted.

“I’m not trying to get you to take over, no. If I thought you wanted that, that it would make you happy then I would but I can tell it’s not your calling. But you need something. All you do is save people. You don’t even have any hobbies really.”

“That’s not true.” You insisted.

“Your fiancée is a fellow Avenger, your friends are all hero’s or vigilante’s or connected to that life in some way. You need a life Kit Kat, you need something else. You can’t let being an Avenger consume you.” He told you.

You tried to think of something in your life that didn’t come back to the Avengers but you couldn’t. Even your secret hobby of killing people with Wade was about killing bad guys, with a vigilante.

“I don’t know if I can ever do something normal.” You said sadly.

“You can’t. Nothing you do could ever be anything less than extraordinary. But it has to be yours, and just yours. Go traveling, take up painting, go to college, open a book shop. Whatever you want sweetheart, but try and find something. Please?”

“Wait... Is this your way of firing me?”

“I love you but you are literally the worst intern we have ever had. Yes, you’re fired.”

You made a strangled noise of offense.

“Well since I am jobless, I guess lunch is on you.” You said, sulking.

“Leech.”  Tony rolled his eyes at you.

“Hurry up, I have to pick Peter up from school.” You told, getting up and rubbing your full stomach.

“Bossy leech.”

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

“How did your history paper go?” You asked Peter as he slid into the passenger seat.

“I got an A! Thanks for getting Mr Bucky to help me out.” He said, showing you the paper with the big red A on it proudly.

“He just talked your ear off for a few hours, you actually made it into a coherent paper. You earned that A.” You told him seriously.

He looked embarrassed but proud as you pulled out of the school parking lot.

“So I got fired.” You told him casually.

“What? They can’t do that, you’re a Stark. Did you tell your dad? Do you want me to tell him?” Peter asked in a rash, incensed that someone would dare fire you.

“He knows, he was the one who did it. Took me out for a nice lunch, like a last meal.” You sniggered.

Peter looked outraged on your behalf.

“It’s alright Spiderboy, I didn’t fit in there and he knew it. He wants me to go and figure out what I want to do with my life.” You said, sighing.

“Oh. Well, what do you want to do with your life?” Peter asked.

“I’m not sure. I sort of accidentally stumbled into having one at all and I’m not sure what I want to do except save people.”  

“There are other ways to save people that don’t involve punching Nazi’s. There are nurses, firefighters, police officers, caretakers, therapists. Even people like musicians or authors can help people. If you wanna help others you can find ways to do it.” Peter told you.

“Huh.” You hadn’t thought of it like that.

“Just figure out what you’re good at, what you can do well and enjoy.” He said wisely.

You smiled gratefully at him for his advice. He had given you a lot to think about and you mulled it over as you pulled up and parked outside the diner and got out of the car.

“Come on oh wise one, I’ll even get you some fries with your milkshake.” You said, ruffling his hair as he joined you on the sidewalk.

He playfully shoved you and you stumbled and glared at him. He choked back a snort of laughter at your expression.

“Oh you better run.” You snarled.

He took your advice and bolted, laughing loudly as he sprinted down the sidewalk. You grinned and gave him a head start before stalking after your prey.

How hard could it be to catch a spider?

You were too low down on the street to catch sight of the man stood on the roof upwind, watching you with narrowed eyes. He was always careful to make sure you never noticed him, you would never see him coming until he decided it was time and by then it would be far too late. He would stick to the shadows until it was time to rip your life apart.

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

Peter Parker is one of the characters who gets more of a spotlight in the sequel. What do you think about Tony and Peter's advice?

Weirdish question, remember when Baby Stark was interviewed for a magazine last chapter? What questions would you like to ask her? She might just answer and you could get a mention in the chapter. 

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the--real--wombat @buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt @meganjonezzzz @dugan365@fluffeh-kitty@memanda17 @krystallynx @theonelittleone@piscesbarnes@free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard@dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews@likes-to-smell-books@drdorkus @life-wanderer@metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky@jsmith509 @chipilerendi@nerdy-bookworm-1998@ericasabe @gravedollie666@madlykpopfan @l0kisbitch@mywinterwolf@sassysweetstories @life-wanderer @jessieray98@littledeadrottinghood

[throwawayov]

The Case of You, Who Saved Me on Mondays

ReiRan Omegaverse AU. Not proof-read yet. Apologize for horrible grammar this is written at 2 AM lol not really intended for being published as well buttt yeahhh

TRIGGER WARNING : substance abuse

 --Sunday, Ranmaru Kurosaki POV--

"Ranran, are you perhaps...an omega?"

Fuck.

Ranmaru had played this scenario over and over in his head for countless times. What to say when someone suspects something. What to answer when someone asks. What to say when someone confronted him. What to do when some batshit insane alpha attack him. What to do when someone smells something…

But he didn’t quite prepare when Reiji was the one who asked. Reiji, of all people. The only person Ranmaru ever respect in the industry so far… his most endearing and strong Reiji.

He then counted the pills in his head. The shot. The supporting ointment. All the nasty chemicals he took in the morning as his usual buzz. All seemed fine. All should be fine. But the fact that they just finished a very tiring live concert concerned him. Is it my sweat?

No, no. This is Reiji, afterall. Ranmaru knew full well how the guy can say the most random thing just to annoy him without batting an eye.

I’m fine. I’m fine.

He put down his bottled water carefully on the table. He glanced at his own hand, making sure he’s not trembling even the slightest.

“What nonsense are you talking about? Stupid.”

He walked to the sofa and threw himself without even looking at Reiji. “I’m taking a nap,” he covered his eyes with his arm. His mind is still racing. Thank God Camus and Ai went out of the room already, else they would’ve picked up his crazy loud heartbeat when they sat on the sofa.

A couple of seconds passed. The lack of response from the oldest Quartet Night member disturbed his act.

God fucking dammit say something, Reiji. Or should I say something? No. No. But—

“Ahahaa, sorry sorry! I just want to see your reaction! Don’t be maad~”

Ranmaru can hear Reiji sat down on the sofa across him. Ranmaru didn’t move. His heartbeat and breath were suddenly a lot steadier. He wanted to take a nap for real now.

“Maybe you’re stronger than I thought?” Reiji said suddenly.

Ranmaru moved his arm from his eyes as he tilted his face. “What?”

Reiji smiled, “Nothing!”

Ranmaru knew it was Reiji’s stage smile. And he’s got a bad feeling over this.

---

--Sunday, Reiji Kotobuki POV--

Reiji Kotobuki never really liked being an Alpha. 

The pressure, the expectations, the way society treated him as the leader of the pack…it’s suffocating. The way some people smell so good that he needed to hold back his primal urge was maddening. He hates holding back. Yet he hates letting himself out bare. It’s disgusting.

His only channel to let out all his suppressed emotions were singing. The lights, the sound, the cheer, the dance, the team…they are his ultimate pills. On the stage, he never had to notice any tempting smells he always tried so hard to ignore. It feels so liberating.

And then here he was. On the locker room with just his teammate, the beta-rocker Ranmaru Kurosaki.

Reiji really liked the guy. What started as an admiration of the younger’s work ethics now already became something more… precious. He’s still not sure what to label this feeling as. It always fascinated Reiji; the way Ranmaru sings wholeheartedly on the stage, moves his body around with rough yet gentle precision, his rare but tender smiles, his smell…

Wait, did I just think smell? Gosh. There’s that smell again.

Sometimes Reiji can smell something when he’s alone with Ranmaru. It was always faint. At first, Reiji just thought it’s the former’s perfume. But this time it is far from faint and more than just perfume.

Ranmaru just exudes a really really alluring scent around him.

"Ranran, are you perhaps...an omega?"

Ah shit. Why did I say that out loud?

“What nonsense are you talking about? Stupid.”

He watched as Ranmaru threw himself on to the sofa. “I’m taking a nap,”

Reiji couldn’t believe himself, but the smell is getting stronger. It’s definitely coming from Ranmaru. It matched perfectly with his reaction; it’s the smell of omegas when they are very nervous. Unfortunately, Reiji knew this smell too well.

He is an omega, alright. How—Wha-Why is he hiding this? D-Does anyone else know? Isn’t it dangero—

His mind halted. To hide the fact that you’re an omega is an enormous, if not impossible, task. Alphas can sense omegas presence in a heartbeat. Reiji is an Alpha. Hyuuga is an Alpha. God, they even worked closely with four freaking alphas in STARISH on daily basis. There’s no way none of them never picked this up these past 5 years.

But then again, Reiji never really sensed anything strong either, until now.

“Ahahaa, sorry sorry! I just want to see your reaction! Don’t be maad~”

He slowly walked to the sofa across Ranmaru and sat down. He studied the younger’s face intently, as Ranmaru covered it with his arm anyway so he wouldn’t noticed. The smell didn’t go away…

He didn’t want to think about it. If Ranmaru is a beta, then that means Reiji can now even smell a beta’s pheromones, which is very unheard of, but… it’s plausible. And it made Reiji want to throw up. Really? Even beta? I’ve evolved into something more disgusting than I already am.

But if Ranmaru is indeed an omega… Reiji didn’t want to imagine what crazy stuffs Ranmaru had done to cover this up really well for so long. That must’ve been extremely difficult and painful.

“Maybe you’re stronger than I thought?”

Oh, fuck me and my blabber mouth. Why Reiji, whyyyy…

“What?” Ranmaru tilted his head and looked straight at Reiji’s face.

Reiji tried his best to act natural. “Nothing!”

---

--Monday dawn, Ranmaru Kurosaki POV--

Ranmaru Kurosaki really hates being an omega.

The day they announced his secondary gender result was the worst day of Ranmaru’s life. His parents were both alphas so the result was crazy upsetting for his whole family. No one wanted to admit this. An omega? In Kurosaki family? It must be a fluke. They proceeded to test him 3 more times.

The result was always the same; a full-fledged omega. Cue the cymbals, a joke of the century for the family.

He still remembered how his parents told him during middle school that they found a way to help him cover this up. To convert him into a beta. To patch the embarrassing stuff. To basically neuter him of his being. It was risky and cost a fortune…but his father was willing to pay anything for it.

In the end, the procedure was botched. Literally nothing came out of it. If anything, it created a deep emotional scar for Ranmaru rather than physical one.

Then his parents business crumbled with all the financial and emotional burden it created and the story went on just like a fucked up drama that is Ranmaru’s life.

Ranmaru Kurosaki really despises being an omega.

Right after arriving in his apartment, Ranmaru ransacked through his medicine cabinet. One, two, four, eight… he gulped them all. All these disgusting pills that keep me sane.

He coughed and almost threw up. He held himself together over the sink.

They are really just normal pills omega used to suppress their hormones. Normally omegas only took two kinds of medicine; hormone suppressants and birth control pills if they are sexually active.

Ranmaru is a virgin and he took 4 kinds of birth control just for the heck of it.

Sigh…now comes the hard part.

He steadied his breath. He glanced at three blue vials in front of him. This stuff is the most expensive thing on his chemical cocktails. The experimental drug his fellow bandmates introduced him. The holy grail for omegas like him, the ultimate suppressant.

Even someone who is physically strong like Ranmaru dreaded the aftereffect of this drug. It made him want to claw out his insides just to stop the scorching sensations it caused.

Just stop thinking and get this over with. He injected himself with the blue liquid quickly on his upper arm. He squirms. It’s painful. It’s painful. I’m dying. No—

He threw up on to the sink. Today is going to be great.

---

--Monday evening, Reiji Kotobuki POV--

“So, Kotobuki-kun, what is it like, being the only alpha of the group? You’re doing such a great job bringing the pack together nee~”

Reiji’s smile grew wider.

I want to punch this interviewer’s face right fucking now. Pack? Are we dogs now, bitch?

“Ah weeeeell, it’s just really fun because we are all friends, you know! It doesn’t matter whether you’re alpha or beta or omega, riiiight guys?” Reiji winked to all his teammates besides him.

Camus let out a scoff. “Hmpf. We never see him as an alpha anyways,”

“I believe we are a group of 4 betas here,” Ai added with a nod.

“Come on, guuyysss, why are you so meeeaaan!” Reiji pretended to cry. As usual.

The interviewer just laughed and move along with other questions. Reiji silently relieved that this antic never failed to please the outsiders. He glanced over to Ranmaru and caught the silver-haired staring at his face intently. That caught Reiji off guard.

“What is it, Ranran?” Reiji asked when both of them were in the changing room. Camus and Ai went out already for another interview regarding their duet project.

“What is what?” Ranmaru asked from the sofa in front of Reiji. He looked really tired his literal color almost gone from his face.

“The whole interview you’re just straight up staring at me and not saying much! Is there something wrong with my face? Or you just want to admit now that I look cool?? Is that it? Aaaww I’m so flattered, Ranran!”

Ranmaru put his palm over his face. “Ugh, just drop the act already,”

Reiji smirked. He knew already that Ranmaru is sharp. “Yeah yeah, but you know me, we need to be professionals,”

“You need to tell them to stop asking that kind of questions,” Ranmaru sighed. “You hate being an alpha, don’t you,”

Oh wow, it stings. “Hmm? Nooo? I never hated it?”

“I told you to drop the act. Just like me, you’re disgusted with yourself,”

Reiji drew his brows together. What feels like an eternity was only 5 seconds of silence. “What do you mean, just like you?”

Suddenly the room is filled with a really strong smell it almost suffocated Reiji. He put his hands over his nose and mouth, “What the—“ he saw Ranmaru on the sofa, clenching his chest. He didn’t know what happen but he looked so…red. And in pain. And breathless.

“Ranran, oh my God, are you okay??” Reiji stood up and tried to reach him. But the smell now literally suffocated him. It’s like a really strong chemical trying to burn and poison his head, but it felt so good.

What the hell—

“Get out, Reiji,” Ranmaru whispers under his labored breath. He’s drenched in sweat.

Reiji froze. His mind went blank but his body is burning for some reason.

“GET OUT, NOW!” Ranmaru now screamed. In pain.

Reiji took a step back. He clawed on his own head trying to control himself. What the hell what the hell what the hell—

“NO! Ranmaru where’s your medicine?? Where is it??” Reiji ran to the vanity desk and scrambled through all the bags on it. He trembled so bad he knocked everything off the desk. “RAN YOU BETTER TELL ME YOU BROUGHT YOUR MEDICINES,” He looked back quickly and noticed Ranmaru was crawling on the ground, both his arm clenching tight on his chest. He’s drooling a lot and struggled to breathe.

“My jacket,” Ranmaru whimpered. “—pocket,”

Reiji practically flied through the other side of the room to the hanger and scrambled through all the jackets in lightning speed. “This blue vial?? Is this it??” Reiji pull out something that looked like a strange blue epi-pen.

Ranmaru didn’t respond. His breaths become shallower and shallower. “Ranmaru!!” Reiji grabbed Ranmaru’s shoulder and shaking him hard. Though in this close distance Reiji actually almost fainted himself trying to keep his sanity intact.

He couldn’t think anymore. He administered the injection into Ranmaru’s outer thigh with haste. “UGH—” Reiji closed his eyes. He couldn’t take it anymore. This smell. This heat. He bit on his own lips hard.

“FUCK!” Ranmaru suddenly jolted open his eyes and screamed. He sat up and moved Reiji out of his way. He leaned on the wall and tried to catch his breath.

Reiji tried so hard to calm himself down. His labored breath and bleeding lips aside, his mind slowly creeped back to sanity. A minute passed just for them to slowly steadied their breath. “Ranmaru, listen to me, you fucker,” Reiji scratched his own head hard. “You are an omega, are you not?”

Ranmaru didn’t answer.

“That,” Reiji gulped. “That is a freaking heat if I knew one. That’s one violent heat. I never see an omega went into heat that sudden and look like they’re dying at the same time. And then, and then—What—What the fuck, Ran?”

“Shut up,” Ranmaru muttered.

“NO, I WILL NOT SHUT UP!!” Reiji screamed. “The-Then—What fucked up drugs did you just take? It went away just like that, Ran. What the hell? That’s not normal!”

“SHUT UP, I AM NOT NORMAL, OKAY?” Ranmaru screamed on the top of his lungs. “What do you want me to say? Oh yes I’m sorry I’m an omega guys, please be careful around me I am craving to be filled all the time yada yada yada?”

Reiji was still trying to catch his breath. His mind is a lot calmer now. “No—no, I’m sorry that’s not what I’m trying to say, okay?” He stood up and walked slowly to Ranmaru. “I’m—I’m just worried about you,” he extended his hand to help Ranmaru stand up.

Ranmaru looked up. “I don’t need your pity,” he said while slapping Reiji’s hand away. He stood up by himself slowly.

“I need to take a shower” Ranmaru said before opening the door. “Reiji, can I trust you not to tell anyone about this?”

Reiji couldn’t say anything. “Please?” Ranmaru added.

“…Okay,” that’s all Reiji could muster up.

This is just too much for me to handle.

---

Tuesday Dawn, Ranmaru Kurosaki POV

Ranmaru stood in front of his sink for a whole minute without even moving a single muscle. He looked horrible. He didn’t get a blink of sleep last night and the black lines around his puffy eyes looked worse than his ghostly Halloween makeup last year.

Out of all people, why Reiji?

He couldn’t stop asking this question in his head. His precious Reiji. The one who taught him how to be a professional on the stage. The one who smiled through all the sleepless nights just to not disappoint his fans. The one who showed him how to keep on going through anguish and distress. The one with the gentlest touch, literally and figuratively, out of all the people in the universe…

The only person who made Ranmaru want to appear strong every day.

The embarrassment of showing Reiji his weakest and most disgusting side had grown into gnawing pain in Ranmaru’s whole being. He always wanted to catch up to Reiji… It’s useless now isn’t it?

His eyes locked into his pills on his hand without care.

One, two, three…four…eight…

He fought back a sharp pain inside.

…twelve, thirteen…

And Ranmaru gulped them all.

---

Tuesday Dawn, Reiji Kotobuki POV

Reiji was driving way above the speed limit for the most of his sudden early morning trip. He kept one of his hand on his phone’s handsfree, trying to call Ranmaru for the bazillionth time.

Still, no answer. Goddamit Ran please answer my call I know you’re always up early…

Since last night Reiji couldn’t sleep at all. His mind wandered to the big revelation that is Ranmaru being an omega after all this time. He couldn’t stop thinking about the weird drugs. He was extremely worried.

When his morning alarm suddenly blazed off, Reiji decided to check on Ranmaru by calling him. He didn’t answer. At the beginning Reiji just thought he’s still asleep…

But then he remembered how Ranmaru is. His Ranmaru who always put his pride on his performance above all. His confidence and rock-solid belief in his performance he always gives on the stage… his most beloved and strong Ranmaru. What happened last night must’ve been really took a toll on him, right?

He called again and again, but no answer still. He became extremely worried.

And now here he was putting the pedal to the metal trying to reach Ranmaru’s place.

Please please please please I hope I’m just being a paranoid…

He reached Ranmaru’s place in record time and bolted to the door. He knocked slowly. “Ranran? It’s me, Reiji. Let’s go to work together?” Reiji called.

He knocked again, louder. “Ranran?? Are you okay??”

Silence. He tried to call Ranmaru’s phone again and listened carefully at the door. Ranmaru’s phone ringtone can be heard from outside.

He’s inside. Damn it—

“Ranmaru, please open the door before I open it by force!” He banged on the door again.

The lack of sound except the ringing phone put Reiji on edge. He took a couple steps backward and readied himself. “I’m coming in!”

He put all of his strength to his shoulders and threw himself on to the door.

It didn’t budge. Fuuuuuck it huuuurts, it looks easier in the movies…

He tried again. Twice, thrice…

The door finally gave in on Reiji’s sixth try. “Ranmaru!!” He screamed when he got inside.

He looked around the spacious flat and found no one there. He checked the doors hastily before finally opening the bathroom door.

What Reiji found inside was a scene from his true nightmare.

--- TBC soon

[movietvtechgeeks]

Latest story from https://movietvtechgeeks.com/top-5-supernatural-episodes-might-surprise-spnfamily/

Top 5 'Supernatural' episodes that might surprise SPNFamily

Socially, we’re conditioned to ask the basics when we meet people. You know, the small talk questions: Where are you from? What do you do? How many siblings do you have? Eventually, we progress into the hard-hitting ‘getting to know yous’ of relationships, even if it’s reading someone’s words. Favorite song? Favorite book? Favorite movie? The thing is, people sometimes lie. Whether they mean to or not. No one’s favorite book is Anna Karenina; it’s just not. You can respect the book, but it’s not your favorite; you don’t revisit it regularly, it’s not a comforting blanket you burrito yourself inside. For example, my favorite song, book, and movie, respectively, are: “Just What I Needed” by The Cars, “Death Comes as the End” by Agatha Christie, and “A Few Good Men.” Have I heard better songs? Sure, as one of my best friend’s husband once said: “‘Just What I Needed’ isn’t even Ric Ocasek’s favorite song.” Have I read better books? Absolutely. Are there better movies? No. And I will fight you. My point is: sometimes I think that society, or in this case fandom culture, makes us feel as though we should choose things that we may like a lot but also simultaneously live up to some arbitrary social standard or norm, as our favorite. In Supernatural fandom I often see the same few episodes held up as universal fan favorites; episodes like “Yellow Fever,” “Changing Channels,” “The French Mistake,” “Swan Song,” and “Baby.” Maybe these episodes are your faves, but they aren’t mine; not even close. I’m not even talking about the episodes I think are the all-around best or the most quintessential (we’ll get into that in another article). I mean these don’t even make my top ten, they aren’t my go-to episodes, the ones I’ve watched the most, the ones I’ll watch out of sequence just because I want to relive the entire thing on a random Tuesday afternoon. In fact, one of those example episodes is in my bottom ten. So, which out of over 265 episodes, are my favorites? I’ll tell you not because I’m telling you that I think these are the best episodes and that you should agree (again, that arrogance will come in another article), but because I think this is a fun introduction. A way for you all to get to know me. Sin City - I’ll admit that “Sin City” isn’t the best episode ever penned, the quips are heavy-handed, and the plot is simplistic. Honestly, it’s kinda middle of the road, but that’s what makes it re-watchable without the emotional hangover of “Mystery Spot” or “Fresh Blood” (Besides, we’ll get into those episodes in a later article. What “Sin City” does have is a great supporting cast: we get to see Katie Cassidy finally start to her get bearings playing Ruby 1.0, we get a great scene at the beginning where Sam and Dean are such bratty, yet lovable surrogate children to Bobby, we meet and mourn Richie, the perv with a heart of gold, (I mean, he’s basically Dean (Jensen Ackles) without the suave or skill), and we cozy up in a basement with Casey the bartender demon who is insightful, witty, and deadly, but her quid pro quo with Dean gives us a good dose of classic cocky Dean Winchester who is also a scared little boy underneath it all. Bonus, we also get the rare unicorn that is goofy, chagrinned Sammy as he backs his way out of Trotter’s office. And anyway, if you don’t catch yourself saying “I make a mean hurricane” every time you look at the Red Lobster drink menu you are living your life wrong. Ask Jeeves - now, I’m going to stop you before you tell me that Fan Fiction is the best episode of season 10, because it’s really, REALLY not. It’s arguably in the bottom three of the season. “Ask Jeeves,” however, was a perfect play on the movie that inspired it (which is one of the best movies of all time, again, I will fight you) and was another episode overflowing with a great supporting cast with fantastic comedic timing. For an episode that was primarily a loose tie-in to the release of the Supernatural Clue game it could have gone so wrong, but instead, it went so very right. The soundtrack is stellar, the jokes and pop culture references are on point without being concussion-inducing anvils, and the mystery itself is background to the story without being disappointing. “Ask Jeeves” is a comedic romp with a nice little hit of Winchester family feelings; it’s a bread and butter Supernatural episode. Besides, Dash hunts pheasants. He. Hunts. Pheasants. Caged Heat - This is an ensemble style episode done right. We get one of the best interactions between Sam/Dean and a demon to ever grace the show (props to character actor Conrad Coates for delivering, “I know you're speaking, I see your lips moving, but I can't understand what you're saying 'cause I don't speak little bitch,” because that line is a mouthful) and from that we slide seamlessly into Meg getting the drop on the boys and Sam turning it on her in the blink of an eye because he now understands her calculating nature so well. Speaking of calculating, Sam using the the plot of Raiders of the Lost Ark to lure Castiel to him is a perfect segue into their mutually soulless tête-à-tête (full disclosure, season 6 Castiel is my favorite version of Castiel). We also get Meg taking on a pack of hellhounds, Dean threatening Samuel, Sam (Jared Padalecki) biting into his wrist to draw a Devil’s Trap with his own blood (that bloody grin is everything), Dean rescuing Meg from demon Christian. Then we get the brothers and Meg working in tandem against Crowley in perfect harmony, the fake-out Crowley death that we only later find out was all a set up between Crowley and Castiel (Misha Collins) who were working together all along. It’s an episode that works on your first watch, yet is even more brilliant in retrospect. Night Shifter - Okay, I’ll be up front, season 2 is not only my favorite season of Supernatural but one of my favorite seasons of television. Period. Even its weakest episode is still so damn good, but if I have to choose one to go on a list that is based on simple re-watchability, I have to hand it to this one. Meet conspiracy theorist Ronald Resnik; he’s that character that every procedural or genre show needs at least once a season; the one who is wholly unqualified, but still tries to be the hero. Not for the glory, but because lives are at stake and the right thing has to be done. We laugh at Ron and his mandroid ideas; Dean praises him, Sam shuts him down, both do it because he’s so close yet, oh, so far from the truth. And when Ronald gets shot (which while tragic, is gorgeously directed and edited) your heart breaks for both Dean and Ronald. You also get exactly that Sam wanted to keep him deep in the dark because the hunter life is nothing but pain and death. Speaking of impactful characters, we also meet Agent Henriksen in this episode, a character that is a perfect example of an outside POV of the Winchesters. His description of them being “dangerous, smart, and expertly trained” is so important because he doesn’t know what they really do, yet he understands who they are on a fundamental level, and while he wants to lock them up, he fully respects them as adversaries. This episode is cinematic; it literally feels like a complete movie. It’s beautifully shot, every actor brought their A-game (Dean’s little forehead punch when he hangs up with Henriksen is one of those tiny, silent details that makes a moment a moment). We get great dialogue (“I like him, he says okeydokey,” “its robot skin is so lifelike;’ Sam’s long-suffering “we’re not working for the mandroid!;’ Henriksen’s breakdown of the Winchester family that could have been clunky exposition but was instead just a smooth reminder of who they are with bonus (“yeah, I know about Sam, the Bonnie to your Clyde”). But if all that wasn’t enough, there’s also arguably the most iconic Supernatural moment and one of the top three musical cues of the show: Sam and Dean in stolen SWAT gear sneaking to the Impala while “Renegade” plays. I’ve seen this episode more times than I’m willing to admit, and I get chills at that moment every single time. Shadow - Yeah, I know, this is out of left field, but hear me out, because I think this episode is woefully underrated. First of all, we get a tiny peek into the Weechesters by way of Dean reminding Sam of his high school drama years. Not only did Dean remember Sam was in “Our Town,” he clearly went to the play to support his baby brother. We also get smart Sam AND Dean in this episode. Dean by way of visualizing the Daeva pattern in the victim’s blood and Sam using the flare against the Daeva shadow demons. Speaking of the brothers being brothers, there’s a lot to take in during this episode. Starting with them running into Meg and Dean being hurt by Sam telling her about their fight, but as soon as Sam reassures him that he’s with Dean by choice, not force, Dean slips right into teasing, wingman big bro mode. Add to that the subtle nod of trust we can infer by way of Sam taking Baby for his stakeout while Dean researches. This is an episode that on the surface is a basic hunt that ties into the now growing cohesive season throughline, but it’s actually all about family. There’s the brothers’ dynamic and the way their bond has solidified since “Scarecrow”, however, we also get to see Dean’s vulnerability when Sam naively thinks that this could be it, the end of it all, the catalyst back to “normal”, whereas Dean just wants his family together, hell or high water. There’s also the fact that no matter how you as a viewer personally feel about John Winchester, the demons know that he’s never far behind his boys; he’s always watching, always protecting them in his own way. And, of course, we get to see a full Winchester reunion complete with damp eyes, manly hugs and choked up voices. John Winchester saying, “hey boys”, the brothers saying “yes, sir” at the same time (this episode has two instances of Winsync Winspeak); John’s unspoken apologies; Dean’s face while Sam and John hug; Sam being the one who wants them all together, and Dean being the one to understand that they can’t stay with John. John mirroring Sam’s earlier words to Dean about letting go. All of this will always make me emotional. This episode also has one of my favorite horror tropes, one that Supernatural has unfortunately pulled away from in recent years: it’s creepier when you don’t see what’s after you, like the great Steven Spielberg once said about “Jaws,” what’s scariest is the “fear of the unknown.” The mechanical shark forced Spielberg’s hand, and a crazy tight budget forced Eric Kripke’s, but it worked; the shark is terrifying because you don’t see it until the end, it’s the anticipation. It’s the same with the Daeva being shadow demons and later in seasons 2 and 3 with the hellhounds. Unfortunately, in recent seasons we’ve now seen hellhounds, and, well, they were scarier when all we had were torsos shredded by invisible claws and our imaginations. And as much as this episode was packed to the brim with Winchester family fat to chew on, they aren’t the only family. We find out that Meg is doing what she does for family as well. The overarching theme of Supernatural takes form in this episode; human, demon, ghost, or ghoul, it’s always about family in some way. [caption id="attachment_52142" align="aligncenter" width="696"] Source: Home of the Nutty screencaps for all images[/caption] So, like I said when we started this, my intention isn’t to say these are the best episodes of Supernatural, merely that these are my top 5 comfortable sweatpants episodes. So, did any of your favorites make my list? Did I make you want to re-watch an episode you don’t think much about as much? Let me know.

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