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#No biting commentary in the tags today
gimmeurtmi · 1 year
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no nut november — hyunjin (loser #3)
pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader
tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, domestic bliss, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, mentions of masturbation/watching porn, mentions of overstimulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, slight dirty talk, use of names like “pretty boy”, group chat shenanigans
inspo: that video of jinnie fixing his hair with his head thrown back and everyone staring in awe.. you know the one
notes: this is so self indulgent when it was meant to be my gift to @sluttywonwoo lmao. i hope you enjoy the softness of it all, boo! and i hope you feel the joy i felt when writing this <3
banner by @sluttywonwoo
{ wc: 4227 }
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“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!!” You heard Hyunjin screaming from the next room.
You were in the kitchen trying to make breakfast, following Hyunjin’s mother’s recipe for his favourite breakfast food. He came over to yours after your weekly game night—since most of the rooms at theirs were full anyway, and besides, it gifted you with a peaceful morning. Or so you thought.
Hyunjin came into your kitchen, dancing around in what you assumed was celebration, wearing nothing but his boxers and your old jumper from highschool.
He was dancing around so much, flailing his arms enough that the jumper had started riding up, his happy trail peaking out through the fabric.
You swallowed.
“What happened?” You asked, as casually as you could, focusing on the pan in front of you.
“Jeongin lost!”
To prove his point, he showed you the group chat he had with his friends, in which the youngest retold his story from the night before.
You’d have to congratulate them both for finally being brave enough, you noted.
“Cool,” you said simply.
You weren’t really surprised he was talking about that bet again. It was like it was the only thing he could think about since it started. When he told you about it—all you could was laugh and shake your head.
But then he told you what the stakes were, and only after that did you agree and promise him you’d do your best not to get in his way. If it meant you had a whole weekend of Hyunjin to yourself—then you’d play along with their stupid bet.
Although, it was already driving you crazy.
You knew Hyunjin wasn’t doing it on purpose, it’s not like he could help how gorgeous he was, but he didn’t make your life any easier when he so casually licked his lips after taking a bite from the food.
“Thank you, babe,” he said with a smile before devouring the rest of his plate.
You sighed.
The rest of the day was spent catching up on Hyunjin’s favourite K-Drama. You liked it, but what was better than the show was your boyfriend’s commentary. The gasps, pleading at the characters (as if they could hear him), and calling out the plot twists a few scenes before they were revealed.
“What?” He asked as he caught you smiling at him.
“Nothing,” you grinned, placing your head on his shoulder as you cuddled closer to him.
November 9th
A few days passed since you last got to spend time with your boyfriend. But today you knew you had all night together.
Your roommate went to her girlfriend’s house on Wednesdays and it so happened that that was the day Hyunjin finished work reasonably early.
She was never there to disturb you and your boyfriend had more time and so it always ended up with a sleepover.
From being the day you spent together it had evolved to your self care day—one that Hyunjin happily agreed to participate in with you.
There was only one problem. The stupid bet.
You spent all week waking up from wet dreams. Sometimes they were only about your boyfriend and sometimes they involved other people, too. That’s how you knew it was really bad. You were faithful, even in your dreams, but when other people showed up you knew you were unsatisfied and needy.
Luckily, agreeing to the bet never meant that you weren’t allowed to do anything by yourself—but needless to say, that didn’t quite cut it anymore.
Still, you decided if you were still this horny when he showed up it wouldn’t be fair—you could even class it as sabotage, and so, you took matters into your own hands. What else did you have to help you?
It was still early in the morning, you had the whole day to yourself, and so you opened your phone and logged onto an incognito tab.
Your fingers moved across the keyboard, searching and researching. You tried all your go-to’s, but you knew you were screwed when you were on the third page of the search results and none of the videos were even close to what you wanted.
You wanted Hyunjin.
You even went as far as looking for actors who resembled him—but that was impossible. No one was anywhere near as beautiful as him. You were sure it was cosmically impossible for there to be more than one Hyunjin.
That thought, of course, led you to imagine the impossible scenario of having two of him pleasing you at the same time. Kissing and touching and groping and—
You groaned as you locked your phone.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and so you unlocked your private file on your phone.
There was only a handful of photos on there and even a few short videos he sent you during the times you were away from each other for too long.
You looked through each one of them carefully, taking your time to appreciate his body, his dick, his face, his moans.
After a few moments of just admiring you got to work, shimming your shorts off your body.
You went on for as long as you could—managing to pull out six orgasms before you had to stop and gulp in some air. It felt empty.
You weren’t nearly as satisfied as you thought you’d be, not to mention, you could only think about the look on your boyfriend’s face if he managed to get you to cum that many times in a row.
You dragged yourself out of bed, washing the sweat and stickiness off you in the shower quickly. You might’ve taken extra time touching your tits—still feeling the need to please yourself however you could—but that was between you and the shampoo bottles.
Once you were ready, hair mask washed off, you made your way into the living room accompanied by your soft lo-fi playlist.
Everything was exactly how you wanted it to be on your day off—curled up on the couch under your fluffy throw blanket.
A few dozen tiktoks later, the door opened, your boyfriend letting himself in with the pair of keys you gave him a few weeks back. He had a clear bag in the other hand—and you could already spot your favourite sweets in there.
“Jinnie!” You exclaimed with a grin, opening your arms in an invitation. You didn’t want to get off the couch just yet and considering your boyfriend was just about to join you anyway he didn’t mind.
“Y/N/N!” He parroted, kicking off his shoes by the door. He quickly put down his keys and the bag, rushing over to you as he skipped from side to side.
“How is my dimples doing today?” You asked after he fell into your arms.
“Tired, but practice was good,” he nodded at you. “Did you move today?”
“A little,” you said, scrunching your nose.
“Your hair smells nice,” he sighed contently, burying his face in your neck.
“I put a mask on it,” you said, touching the now softer locks.
“You started without me?” He gasped.
“I thought it would be best to avoid the shower part together,” you pointed out, eyebrows raised.
Hyunjin hummed at you, nodding in confirmation that you had the right idea.
“I bought those strawberry masks you like, and they were on offer so I got you an extra two to keep. And there was this lip scrub I wanted to try,” Hyunjin said, pointing at the bag on the table with his leg. “My lips are so dry.”
“It’s the weather,” you hummed.
“Or maybe I don’t get enough kisses,” he pouted up at you.
“Kissing makes your lips drier,” you countered.
“False,” he shook his head.
“And the fucking stubble burn makes my chin and lips crack,” you said with a huff.
“I get stubble burn, too,” he raised his eyebrows.
“From what?” You gasped at him.
Hyunjin moved his eyes towards your crotch before looking up at you pointedly.
“Complaining, are we?”
“No! But I’m just saying,” he shrugged.
“And I’m just saying, you haven’t done that in ten days.”
“Why are you counting?” Hyunjin giggled.
“Because there’s nothing left to do,” you sighed dramatically.
“Oh, shut up,” he chuckled. At that he lifted himself off your body, easily making his way into the kitchen.
“Do you want peppermint tea or camomile?”
“Peppermint please,” you grinned at him, getting up.
“No, no, where are you going?” He stopped you with his hand up in the air.
“To get the hairbands?” You said, matter of fact.
There was a very clear routine in place, familiar, and you were simply following it.
“You, sit. I am man, man gets hairbands. Man makes tea.”
“Okay, man,” you rolled your eyes. But you snuggled deeper into your blanket nonetheless.
Soon Hyunjin offered you the warm cup of tea before he skipped over to your room to grab your matching pink hairbands. They had bear ears attached to them, and Hyunjin smiled softly to himself as he pushed the plush fabric up to his hairline. He plopped yours over your head (he knew it was yours since it had your foundation colour on it, stains that wouldn’t come off no matter how many times you washed it) and helped you push it up past your forehead.
After that he grabbed the edge of your blanket and frappes it over his legs.
Then he grabbed your phone, opened it easily since the passcode was your anniversary, and started queuing songs on your spotify.
It was all as it should be.
Once the tea was finished—Hyunjin telling you all about the drama unfolding between the new trainees in the studio across from theirs—you both put your mugs to the side.
“Am I allowed to get the masks?” You asked with a raise of your brows.
“Nope,” he grinned, jumping up and running towards the bag. As if you were gonna race him.
He plopped back down on the couch, bag in hand, and unloaded its contents. First, the strawberry face masks, and then the lip scrub, and then your sweets, and then some cherry flavoured lip balm, and then a new body lotion that “even has glitter in it!” and then a replacement of your moisturiser that Hyunjin may or may not have stolen from you.
“Anything else?” You joked as you looked down at the loot in your lap.
“Is there something missing? I can go out and—“
“Calm down, Jinnie,” you laughed, placing your hands on his forearms, “what’s up with you today?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I just wanna make sure you have a nice relaxing day.”
You nodded.
“Are you having a relaxing day?” You double checked.
He nodded.
“Okay,” you agreed. “You first.”
You handed him the mask, offering your face over to him.
He wiped your face with micellar water and a cotton pad before slowly and delicately placing the mask on your face. After tapping around it a few times to make sure it was stuck on properly, and bopping your nose for his own amusement, Hyunjin announced he was done. You opened your eyes and grabbed the second mask, applying it to his beautiful face.
You let the masks set for twenty minutes—enough time for you to tell Hyunjin all about your plans for your sister’s birthday—and once you peeled them off and washed your faces it was time for the lip scrub.
Hyunjin grabbed “the wand”, as he called it, and scooped up a generous amount of the scrub before grabbing your chin.
You focused on his face as he spread the small grains over your lips—his eyes zeroed in on them. Your heart started beating faster as you felt a wetness pooling in your underwear at the attention he was giving you. You took in a deep breath.
“You’re too far away,” he muttered to himself, scooting closer. He grabbed your thighs, pulling himself towards you, then lifted your shins to place them on either side of his body.
You could easily place your forehead on his, and so you did.
“Close enough?” You whispered.
“Could never be close enough,” he shook his head simply. You scooted closer still, your hands settled on his thighs, smiling at him.
He grabbed your chin again, angling your face so he could scrub the product onto your lips.
Hyunjin puckered his lips at you, eyebrows raised. So you leaned in closer and kissed his lips.
“No,” he giggled, “pucker them.”
“Oh,” you giggled back, following his instructions as your eyes settled on how adorable he looked while he concentrated on his task. And, as much as you tried not to focus on it, you took a moment to realise the intense stare he held on your lips was accompanied by a fluttering in your pussy you tried so hard to ignore.
As Hyunjin moved the product on your lips in circular motions, you instinctively moved your hands up his thigh, playing with the string on his sweats casually.
Hyunjin swallowed visibly.
“Um,” he started, voice cracking lightly, “did you want to be closer?”
“Jinnie, I really don’t think that’s possible,” you said slowly, trying not to move your lips too much as you spoke.
“I mean like, uh, maybe I can be inside you?” He offered, avoiding your eyes completely as he looked around himself for a cotton pad to take off the excess product with.
“Uh,” you let out, feeling your heart race at his suggestion. “Well, that would definitely make us closer.”
Hyunjin nodded as he wiped your lips. “But are you sure? I mean, the bet.”
“Not like that,” he shook his head, “just to be close.”
“No moving?” You tried to confirm.
“If you want.” He handed you the products casually, keeping the routine going—even if the conversation was suggesting something entirely out of the ordinary.
You looked down at the small empty space between your bodies. You could very clearly see the outline of his erection through his grey sweats.
You licked your lips, tasting the coconut on them, noticing how soft they were.
Hyunjin was studying your face, the way your eyes moved from his lap to his lips a few times before you nodded.
“I don’t want to lose though,” you said, even though you didn’t really mean it that much. Sure, the prize was a very good one, but at this point you were starting to care a whole lot less about it.
“I miss you,” your boyfriend said, rubbing your shoulder softly.
You chuckled as you waved at him. “Hi!”
“I know,” he rolled his eyes, squeezing at your bicep, “I miss being close, I mean.”
“I would love to, if you think it’s okay,” Hyunjin grinned, “but we aren’t done with our skin care.”
“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “we can keep going like that.”
You smiled before shifting around to slip your shorts and underwear off.
“Do we need to warm you up or—“
“—no,” you scoffed, pulling on the knot tied on Hyunjin’s sweats. He laughed.
“Are you wet enough?”
“I came six times today,” you said casually, pulling his dick out of his boxers, “I’ve been wet since the morning.”
“Six?” He gulped, a small twang of jealousy in his voice. You weren’t sure if that was to do with the fact you got to cum or that he wasn’t involved in it. It was probably a bit of both, you thought.
You climbed onto his lap, pulling the blanket around yourself to stay warm and slowly with Hyunjin’s hands on your hips helping you sink down onto him, you got into position.
The pair of you let out a few breathy gasps at the almost foreign sensation, realising you both truly missed the feeling of Hyunjin inside you.
After a few small breaths, and a kiss on your shoulder, you grabbed the lip scrub and kept going.
“You’re really fucking wet,” Hyunjin sighed as soon as you wiped the excess product off. He used up every muscle in his body to concentrate on keeping still as you touched his lips—only now putting his thoughts into words. “Did you actually cum six times?”
“Yeah,” you shrugged.
“How?”
You could feel his dick twitching inside you as the words left his mouth.
“Are you sure you want to hear more details?” You cocked up an eyebrow. Hyunjin licked his lips.
“You can tell me if you want,” he said, lowly.
“No,” you chuckled, “I’m not trying to make this any harder for us.”
“Why are you complaining when you got to cum today?” He pouted.
“I’ve been cumming every day this month, actually,” you said simply. Hyunjin thrusted up at that.
“Hey!” You warned him, even if it was undermined by the small moan that you let out beforehand.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just… a hot thing to say.”
“Do I need to get off?” You asked seriously, giving him a pointed look before applying some lip balm on his beautifully plush kissable lips.
“No, no, no,” he insisted, “stay close.”
After he applied lip balm to your lips, the pair of you shared a small kiss, and then you started massaging the moisturiser into his face.
He intertwined his fingers behind you, resting them on your lower back as he closed his eyes, completely content.
“I missed this,” he mumbled out softly, “your warm cunt and your smell and your wetness all over my c—“
You leaned down to kiss him, sighing into his soft cherry flavoured lips.
“You need to stop talking,” you warned.
“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he ignored you, opening his eyes as he stared right at you, his lids heavy.
“What did I just say?”
Still, he ignored you, unlocking his hands and trailing them to your hips. He pushed upwards, his dick nudging your sensitive spot gently.
“Jinnie,” you whined, “don’t do this.”
“Will you clench for me, baby?” He begged you, eyes wide and pleading in front of you.
“That is just as bad as moving.”
“Please. Just once, wanna feel how your cunt wraps around me so ti—fuuck.”
Hyunjin let out a louder moan when you repeated the action, pulling your body forward so your noses were touching. The new angle helped you feel the stretch even more, and it took all your self control and then some to stay still. Hyunjin was clearly losing his focus, you knew you had to stay strong for the both of you.
He pressed his lips against yours hungrily before thrusting up twice, his cock dragged against your walls so deliciously that your head fell backwards, allowing Hyunjin to press open mouth kisses to your neck.
You weren’t sure who started it, you or him, but soon you were bouncing up and down his dick repeatedly, your hands flat on his chest.
“Wait,” Hyunjin said breathlessly, holding your waist so you’d stop moving. “The bet.”
“Yeah,” you breathed in deeply. “The bet.”
You nodded at each other as you settled back down on your knees, once again staying perfectly still.
“Where were we?” He coughed, grabbing the moisturiser from where you discarded it on the couch, distributing a generous amount on the back of his hand before he started applying it to your face.
Once you covered all other areas, going through your joint skin care routine step by step, all that was left was a head massage to relax the face muscles.
You kissed Hyunjin softly, your faces still slightly sticky as the products all settled into your skins, and smiled at him as you pushed the hairband off his head, carding your hands through his hair.
You carefully unknotted his hair with your hands, slowly pressing your fingers into his scalp. His mouth hung open, his tongue poking out under his teeth as he relaxed into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.
His dick twitched inside you again, and you had to actively breath out to stop yourself from clenching. You weren’t sure you could play along with his bet any more if he made you stop again. So you just had to act like this was any other Wednesday and his dick wasn’t inside you.
But you didn’t want to complain too much, even just having him inside you without any movement was a huge improvement from the empty feeling you had until now and so you’d happily stay this close to him if that’s what Hyunjin wanted. You were greedy of course, of course you wanted all of him and you wanted it now—but if you could still win this bet while having his dick inside you, you would take it.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin moaned softly, eyebrows scrunched as he melted into your touch.
You rubbed circles into his hair, moving up and down, focusing on his neck and his temples and anywhere that might have tension.
You dragged your nails up and down his scalp, something he’d asked for several times before, and smiled to yourself as his eyebrows raised themselves in pleasure.
Just when you were about to announce you were done and demand your weekly foot massage, Hyunjin squeezed your hips tightly.
“What is it, Jinnie?” You asked softly, unsure of what the squeeze was meant to tell you—he still hasn’t opened his eyes. Did he sense you were about to pull your hands away? Was he trying to tell you he wanted you to keep going?
“What does my pretty boy need?” You hummed, dragging your nails across his scalp one more time.
At that, Hyunjin’s head fell onto the back of the couch, his hips lifting as a long and loud groan left his chest.
You felt his dick pulsing inside you as he came, hard, a wet feeling dripping down your entrance as some of his cum leaked outside of your pussy.
His chest rose up and down heavily, his eyes blinking open as you admired his blissed out face, the way his jawline sat so proudly in front of you with his head tilted back.
He was outrageously gorgeous.
His thumb rubbed circles into your hips where he was still squeezing you, slowly loosening his grip as he came back down to reality, and in turn, came to terms with what just happened. In his own Hyunjin kind of way.
He brought his face into your chest, sobbing theatrically into your body.
“I tried so hard! I was trying so so hard,” he practically wailed, “We lost!”
“Yes, yes,” you patted his head comfortingly, “it’ll be alright.”
“We lost!”
“What were you expecting was gonna happen with you inside me?” You chuckled.
“I thought I could be strong!” He threw his head back, dragging you closer to him. “How could you let me fail so spectacularly?”
“I literally warned you,” you rolled your eyes.
“You let me crash and burn,” he shook his head, “betrayed by my own girlfriend.”
“Will you stop,” you pushed at his chest, laughing loudly at his antics. “It’s not my fault you came from literally nothing.”
“Nothing? I had my favourite girl around me scratching my head and playing with my hair. That’s literally what I imagine heaven looks like.”
“Right,” you rolled your eyes fondly. “How does it feel to be the third one out?”
Hyunjin groaned. “And after the two most obvious ones. Seungmin is gonna tease me to death about this.”
You laughed at him before slowly pushing yourself up, dripping down his sweats and over your fluffy blanket.
You grabbed your shorts off the floor before announcing you were going to get cleaned up quickly.
“Wait, can I make you cum please?” He asked, so softly. You would’ve melted right there and then if it wasn’t for the slight soreness starting to build up in your body. You were sat on his lap for a fair amount of time, feeling him stretching you out, not to mention your adventures from the morning.
“To be honest, I probably can’t go again today.” Hyunjin nodded. “But since we’re out anyway, you can do it anytime you want.”
You mirrored his grin, Hyunjin nodding at you before he let you go clean up the cum now running down your legs.
When you came back out the living room was already clean and organised, Hyunjin even put the blanket and his sweats into the laundry machine.
You wrapped your arms around him, grinning as you pecked his lips again and again and again.
“Do you still love me now that I’m a loser?” He pouted.
You laughed as you started, “you were a lo—“
“—yes, yes,” he rolled his eyes with a groan, “I don’t know why I even asked.”
“I love you still, Jinnie. Maybe even more now.”
“How come?” He asked as he rubbed his nose against yours.
“Because every day I fall more… yeah, no, I can’t say it,” you scrunched your nose up in fake disgust.
“It’s okay, I know you fall in love with me more every day,” he completed the cliche for you with a grin so big little dimples appeared by his eyes.
“Okay, you be the cheesy one, I’ll order some food.”
“No, that’s fine, I can do that—“
“—I am woman. Woman order food,” you mocked him.
Hyunjin laughed at you, his whole face laughing with him, before he pulled you into a hug and squeezed you.
As you ordered the food, Hyunjin sent a message to the group chat.
hyunjin: i’m out.
jisung: already? you suck.
hyunjin: you didn’t last 48 hours!!!
jisung: that’s not what your mum said
chan: please don’t
seungmin: han what does that even mean
minho: eliminated ❌
hyunjin: put my face up in the sky like the hunger games
jeongin: hyungs, sorry but all of us would die in five minutes if we were in the hunger games
chan: yep.
changbin: i wouldn’t
chan: yep!
seungmin: you’d get hungry and die
chan: actually yep to that
changbin: i’d get good sponsors because of my charming looks and they’d feed me forever
felix: yep!!!!
felix: and don’t worry hyunjin, next year you can try again!
several people are typing…
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Kinkslump Linkdump
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This is my dozenth linkdump! The world comes at you fast, and even though I'm writing 4-5 essays a week for this newsletter, many's the week that ends with more stray links than will fit in that format. Here's the previous ones:
https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/
I managed to turn out five posts last week, despite being on tour with my latest novel, The Lost Cause, a hopeful solarpunk novel endorsed by Rebecca Solnit, Bill McKibben and Kim Stanley Robinson. The tour went great – the book's now a national bestseller on the USA Today list! Here's an essay I wrote explaining the structure of the feeling that the book is meant to convey:
https://www.torforgeblog.com/2023/11/14/cory-doctorow-the-swerve/
This is a climate emergency novel full of rising seas, terrible storms, wildfires and zoonotic plagues, and yet – it is a hopeful novel. What makes it hopeful? It depicts a future in which we are treating these phenomena with the gravitas and urgency they warrant, with our whole society's focus shifting to moving coastal cities inland, weatherizing and solarizing our housing, and creating permanent housing for internal refugees.
While it would be infinitely preferable to live in a world where none of that is necessary, that's not the world we have. This is an sf novel, not a fantasy novel, so all the climate harms we've locked in through decades of expensively procured inaction are present. But the difference between disaster and catastrophe is how and whether we address those harms. Sure, this is a world where superstorms wipe away whole cities and Miami is a drowned mangrove swamp, but it's also a world in which oil executives do not chair UN climate summits or complain that oil companies are being "unjustly vilified":
https://www.cnbc.com/2023/11/27/opec-says-oil-industry-unjustly-vilified-ahead-of-climate-talks-.html
I write a lot, and it's not just this newsletter. Writing transports me from my anxieties and aches. That's how I came to write nine books during lockdown ("when life gives you SARS, make sarsaparilla"). Lost Cause was one of three books I published in 2023.
I'm going to greet 2024 with another novel, The Bezzle, a sequel to 2023's Red Team Blues, about the hard-charging, high-tech forensic accountant Marty Hench:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
The Bezzle is a story about the shitty technology adoption curve – the way that the worst technologies we have are first rolled out on the people least able to complain about them. After these bad technologies have their sharp edges sanded down on the bodies of prisoners, refugees and kids, they move up to blue collar workers and discount store shoppers, and so on, until we're all living under their thumb.
In The Bezzle, a dear friend of Marty finds himself serving a long sentence in a privatized California prison that flips from one private equity fund to the next, each with even worse, more extractive ways to use technology to bleed prisoners and their families dry. You can read the opening scenes in a just-published excerpt on Tor Books's site:
https://www.torforgeblog.com/2023/11/20/excerpt-reveal-the-bezzle-by-cory-doctorow/
The period immediately before a book's publication is always a tense one, as the first reviews trickle in. Library Journal's Marlene Harris is the first out of the gate, with a spectacular review:
https://www.libraryjournal.com/review/the-bezzle-1802415
Marty’s reminiscences range from obscure financial machinations to heaping helpings of social commentary but always move the underlying thriller story forward in a backwards heist tale that delivers a righteously satisfying ending to the surprise of both the reader and the villain. This novel, like his previous outing, rides on Marty’s voice. He has a jaundiced view of everything, but he tells it with such style and verve that readers are caught up and ride along on the surface until the shark beneath the water jumps out and bites the villain where it hurts.
I'm headed into Skyboat Media's studios on Monday with @wilwheaton to record the audiobook for this one, directed as ever by the amazing Gabrielle de Cuir. Keep your eyes peeled for a presale crowdfunder in January!
I am often asked how I decide when to present an idea through fiction and when to do so with nonfiction. The answer is a complicated one, and I got into it in some detail on Nature's Working Scientist podcast, in discussion with Paul Shrivastava:
https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-023-03394-8
When it comes to politics, fiction and nonfiction are intensely complementary. Nonfiction can convey the data about a social phenomenon, but fiction can convey the meaning of the data. It's one thing to see a chart about inequality, and another to inhabit it through fiction. Marty Hench's narrative adventures are a way into the feeling of living in a corrupt oligarchy.
There are other ways into that feeling, of course. Take Barry Bowen's "Lifestyles of the Blessed & Famous: Preacher Homes Sold in 2023" for The Roys Report:
https://julieroys.com/lifestyles-blessed-famous-preacher-homes-sold-2023/?mc_cid=9678383b64
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then carefully staged realtor drone shots ganked from the Redfin listing for a "pastor"'s $3.5m mansion in Newport Beach is a full-on sermon about the corruption of the Hillsong megachurch:
https://www.redfin.com/CA/Newport-Beach/503-30th-St-92663/home/12363926
Narratives and photos are all well and good, but there's always room for some data. The USA's weird breed of federalism and devolved power makes for some very interesting data. Writing for The American Prospect, Paul Starr rounds up several studies evaluating the "natural experiments" created by enacting very different policies in otherwise similar states:
https://prospect.org/health/2023-12-08-life-death-cost-conservative-power/
The data is in: conservativism kills. Living in a red state shortens your life expectancy. The redder the state, the worse it is. The bluer the state, the longer you're likely to live:
https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/1468-0009.12469
The exemplars here are Connecticut and Oklahoma, whose life expectancies were at par until they began to diverge in policies. Oklahoma got more conservative, Connecticut got more liberal. Today, the average Oklahoman will pop their clogs at 75.8, while a Connecticutensian can expect 80.7 years.
Different scholars have parsed out different policy outcomes. Giving Medicaid to children, for example, shows benefits for the next 50 years:
https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/aer.20171671
The big one, of course, is gun control. Here's the topline: "restrictive state gun policies reduce overall gun deaths." Water also wet:
https://journals.lww.com/epidem/fulltext/2023/11000/the_era_of_progress_on_gun_mortality__state_gun.3.aspx
Fact-free spiritual beliefs like "an armed society is a polite society" are key to conservative policymaking. Pesky progressives who confuse the issue with relevant facts are playing dirty, pointing out reality's unfair leftist bias.
But after 40 years of neoliberal deference to corporate power, the worm is turning. Somehow, a world on fire, filled with megapastors in megamansions who brief for lethal policies, has finally inspired a global vibe-shift (and not a moment too soon!). One of the most tangible expressions of that shift is the revival of antitrust, which has been in a coma since the Reagan administration.
All over the world – the EU, the UK, Ireland, Australia, and the USA – there are new competition enforcers challenging corporate power in ways that were unthinkable just a few years ago. If I'd written an enforcer like FTC chair Lina Khan in 2010, critics would have slammed me for wish-fulfillment too unrealistic for science fiction.
But today, Khan is taking big swings at corporate power, fighting against a calcified edifice of decades of bad, pro-monopoly precedent. The pro-monopoly press hate her, which is why the WSJ keeps publishing sweaty op-eds insisting that she is wasting her time and that monopolies are good, actually:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion
But she is still out there, fighting for all of us. After a pro-monopoly judge stymied the FTC's bid to block the rotten Microsoft/Activision merger, Khan re-filed, appealing the decision:
https://www.reuters.com/markets/deals/us-ftc-tries-again-stop-microsofts-already-closed-deal-activision-2023-12-06/
Critics insist that she's on a foolish errand, but Khan is tackling the most promising face of a sheer cliff, and the plainly anticompetitive merger between one of the world's largest console makers (a convicted monopolist!) with one of the world's largest games publishers is the right place to start. If she can get her piton into one of the hairline cracks in that face, her arduous climb gains a solid anchor for the next stage of her assent.
Of course, Khan's highest-profile action is her case against Amazon, the omnipresent, dystopian poster-child for enshittification, a platform we can't avoid, but which is so haphazardly policed that the bestselling bitter lemon energy drink you order might be bottled piss harvested from its immiserated drivers:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon
In a world of murderous, community-destroying monopolies, Amazon stands out for the sheer number of ways it makes the world worse. Amazon maims its warehouse workers and kills its drivers with impossible quotas. It poisons Black and brown neighborhoods with truck exhaust from its giant depots. It destroys small businesses that sell on its platform. It was part of the studio cabal scheming to destroy actors and writers' livelihoods with unfair contracts and AI. Its audiobook monopoly stole at least $100m from independent authors. It makes goods and services more expensive at every retailer (not just Amazon), and price-gouges on its own storefront:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens
Keeping that scam going requires a lot of skullduggery. A new set of leaked internal Amazon documents shed some light on how that inedible sausage gets made:
https://www.vice.com/en/article/wxjbm9/amazon-brags-it-cultivated-california-mayor-with-donations-in-leaked-policy-document
Amazon's "Community Engagement Plan 2024" brags about buying off small-town mayors and astroturf groups in its bid to resist regulations that would limit warehouse delivery van emissions in communities of color (Amazon calls this "philanthropic work"). Coincidentally, that "philanthropy" targeted Perris, a town where residents voted for a warehouse tax to repair the roads that had been trashed by fleets of Amazon vans.
But the real focus of Amazon's "Community Engagement" is California's AB1000, a bill that will limit the construction of supersized, 100k+ sqft warehouses near daycare centers, schools or rec centers. Secondarily, Amazon is hoping to get California to make it easier to advertise alcohol around kids, to "unlock" California's liquor market.
This kind of shameless, mustache-twirling villainry can only go on so long before it meets resistance. One of the longest-running, hardest fought struggles against corporate malfeasance is the farmers' right ro repair fight against John Deere. Deere boobytraps its tractors so that after a farmer repairs a Deere tractor, they have to wait for days, and pay hundreds of dollars, for a Deere technician to come out to the farm and type an unlock code into the tractor's console:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/
Despite multiple state right-to-repair initiatives and a pending rulemaking from the FTC, Deere is still fucking around. Now, they've found out. US District Court Judge Iain Johnson just handed Deere a scathing, 89-page memo rejecting the company's bid to kill a class action suit brought by its customers:
https://www.reuters.com/legal/litigation/deere-must-face-us-farmers-right-to-repair-lawsuits-judge-rules-2023-11-27/?ref=404media.co
The memo hearkens back to company founder John Deere, "an innovative farmer and blacksmith who—with his own hands—fundamentally changed the agricultural industry":
https://www.404media.co/a-massive-repair-lawsuit-against-john-deere-clears-a-major-hurdle/
Judge Johnson tells Deere's lawyers that the real John Deere "would be deeply disappointed in his namesake corporation," and calls out their lying. You love to see it.
This kind of thing is happening all over the world as policymakers, regulators and lawmakers take aim at corporate power. The Australian government just announced that it would force Apple to open up iOS to alternative browser engines:
https://open-web-advocacy.org/blog/new-digital-competition-laws-for-australia/
This is obscure and technical, but that's why it's so exciting: rather than mumbling broad platitudes about competition and user choice, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission's regulation targets a critical leverage point where a small change will deliver huge benefits:
https://www.accc.gov.au/media-release/consumers-and-small-businesses-to-benefit-from-proposed-new-regulation-of-digital-platforms
While there are many browsers in Apple's App Store, they're all just reskinned versions of Safari, all running on the same core engine, Webkit. Webkit is ancient, undermaintained and feature-poor. Crucially, Webkit does not implement the parts of the HTML5 standard needed for WebApps, which would allow app developers a safe channel to offer apps that don't go through Apple's App Store monopoly chokepoint:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/13/kitbashed/#app-store-tax
Now, there's a big jump between announcing this kind of regulation and enacting it. As Mark Nottingham points out, Australia's had an "in principle" commitment to enact a privacy regulation for two successive governments, with no actual regulation in sight:
https://techpolicy.social/@mnot/111546662237364754
So we can't take these announcements as a sign to declare victory and stand down. The policymakers who announce these proposals deserve our accolades for the announcement and they require our constant vigilance until they make good on their promises.
That's the case in Ireland, where the Coimisiún na Meán has just published a fantastic regulatory proposal for recommendation systems, requiring recommenders to be turned off by default and that recommendations based on "political views, sexuality, religion, ethnicity or health" have to be switched off by default:
https://www.cnam.ie/wp-content/uploads/2023/12/Draft_Online_Safety_Code_Consultation_Document_Final.pdf
It's especially significant that this is coming out of Ireland, a corporate crime haven that has successfully lured the world's tech giants into flying its flag of convenience, with the guarantee of tax evasion and lax regulation:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town
This rule won't enforce itself. It'll require constant vigilance and pressure. There's plenty of ways to do that on a part-time, voluntary basis, but if this kind of thing enflames you enough to make a career out of it, here's a tenure-track job for an infosec professor at Citizen Lab, fearless slayers of high-tech corporate ogres:
https://jobs.utoronto.ca/job/Toronto-Assistant-Professor-Information-Security-ON/576463017/
That's all for this week's linkdump. It's time for me to go hole up in my office and wrap presents. When I do, I'll be tuning into the latest Merry Mixmas MP3 of Christmas mashups from DJ Riko:
http://www.djriko.com/dls/DJ%20Riko%20-%20Merry%20Mixmas%202023.mp3
Riko's Christmas mashups have been part of my holidays for more than two decades now. He's been making them for 22 years! That's a lot of great holiday mashups:
https://www.djriko.com/mixmases.htm
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/09/gallimaufry/#marty-hench-rides-again
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sailoryooons · 2 years
Text
Suga's How-To Guide | Mouthful | myg (m)
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☾ Pairing: Camboy!Yoongi x f. reader
☾ Summary: Min Yoongi has been a cam boy for a few years now. The work is easy, the money is good, and he has loyal viewers. When he approaches you and asks if you want to be his muse for a ‘how-to’ series, your view on the infamous Yoongi changes.
☾ Word Count: 941
☾ Genre: Friends to lovers, pwp
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content including oral (m. receiving) spit play, hand jobs, playing with Min Yoongi's perfecr bawls, voyeurism, sexual on acts in front of a live audience (on camera), sex work
☾ Published: August 8, 2022
☾ A/N: I don't know, I just wanted some sloppy toppy and this series is supposed to be more drabble-style like this anyway. Enjoy :) 
beta’d by the love of my life @here2bbtstrash who I keep forgetting to tag like a very bad friend ily M
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Masterlist | Ask | Series Masterlist | Part of Hali’s Happy Agust | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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“Fuck just like that,” Yoongi groans, head tilting back. His throat is flush, chest rising and falling unsteadily like the rapid beating of your heart. “God dammit, I don’t need to teach you shit.”
Yoongi doesn’t. Sucking cock is something you know you’re good at. You’ve done it enough times and you enjoy the way it makes your partners fall apart. You enjoy the way it makes them stutter, the way their words slow together and you can feel their muscles jump, body reacting before their mind can.
And Yoongi is beautiful to watch.
Drool slicks out of your mouth, making the glide down his thick cock easier. Your tongue runs along the underside of his cock as your mouth slides down his considerable length again, watching him through your lashes as he bites his bottom lip.
What you can’t fit in your mouth, you pump slowly with your right hand, adding a gentle twisting motion when your lips near your fist. It’s wet and messy, tears trickling down your cheeks when you take him deep into the back of your throat, his tip brushing against your soft palate.
Yoongi is a vision. Lips bitten and turned a shade of strawberry, hair pressed against his sweaty brow. There are marks on his neck, blooming like hyacinths from your greedy mouth.
Even now, your left-hand digs marks into the meat of Yoongi’s thigh, his muscle flexing as one of his hands grips the back of your head. His fingers apply pressure to your scalp, but he doesn’t force you down on him more. His fingers are needy, begging, desperate. He doesn’t fuck up into your mouth, but you can tell he wants to.
But that’s not what today’s session is. Today’s session is about how to suck cock, and Yoongi provides a stream of conscious, mumbled commentary when he can remember that he has viewers.
You’re determined to make him forget.
Yoongi has lost himself in the heat of your mouth again. You moan around him, popping him out of your mouth to kitten lick the tip of his cock. And fuck – his cock is perfect like the rest of him. Even as he slowly pulled the zipper down at the beginning of the stream, you knew.
The fact that your face is now on camera as much as Yoongi’s is doesn’t cross your mind. Not when he lets out a whine as your tongue licks his slit. Not as you gather the spit in your mouth, letting it drip on the head, Yoongi’s cock glossy and dark and swollen.
“Fuck, where do you want me to cum?” it comes out breathless. Yoongi’s breath is heaving, the hand propping him up tangled in the sheet of his bed. His thighs are quaking and his eyes are squeezed shut, long lashes stark against his cheeks. “Gonna cum soon.”
You suckle on the tip, humming contentedly. “My mouth,” you murmur after letting go of the tip with a lewd pop. “I can swallow.”
“God dammit,” he chuckles. His voice is raspy and deep. “Always- shiiiiit – always ask your partner where they prefer you – fuck – to cum.”
Yoongi keeps losing his train of thought, barely able to get the sentence out to inform his viewers. You don’t care about them. You care about the way his dusky nipples are pebbled and the way his hips squirm on the bed as he fights off shivers driven by your hungry mouth.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he sighs, held tilted to the ceiling. For a moment, it looks like he’s praying, a warm glow from the ring light behind you making him glow at the edges. “Feels so good.”
Something akin to pride surges through you as you lick down his shaft, ducking down to give a teasing lick at his balls. Yoongi lets out a high-pitched sound. You look up at him, pausing and watching him as his eyes blink open to look down at you. He can barely keep them open, drowsy with pleasure.
“Oh?” you ask. A smile teases your lips and you give a gentle suck again before lifting to look up at him. “Yeah?”
“Baby.”
It’s a warning, but there’s a soft curve to his lips. Stroking his cock slowly, you dip back down, eyes fixed on his charcoal gaze as you gently run your tongue over the soft skin again, watching the way he can’t keep his eyes open.
You experiment, tongue inquisitive and seeing what other noises you can draw out of him. Yoongi collapses backward, laying down entirely on the bed. You remove your mouth and nip his thigh, teeth leaving pink crescents in his skin.
“I want to see you.”
“Fuck. You like watching me lose it?”
You lick the teeth marks on his thigh, hand pausing on his shaft and giving him a gentle squeeze. “Yes.”
His laugh is deep and scratchy. Taking a deep breath, Yoongi shuffles and props himself up by the elbows. His hair is sticking up everywhere, and his eyes are glassy, his round cheeks rosy. He looks so beautiful that for a moment, you’re not on your knees with a pillow under you, and there are not thousands of people watching you suck him off on camera.
Yoongi smiles at you, all gums and soft, crinkling eyes. “You’re pretty,” he murmurs. Heat crawls up your neck as you grunt, hiding your face by pulling his cock back into your mouth. He groans. “Fuck. I like having you around.”
You hum, satisfied. And when he does cum, he does it with a shout and going boneless as you grin around a mouthful of him.
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declan-ail · 8 months
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Star Wars and the Vietnam Connection
Trigger Warning: Mentions of Nazis, SS, Perpetrators of the Holocaust, and mentions/pictures of the Vietnam War.
For my first post, I wanna talk about something that many Star Wars fans are aware of, but something that I still think is cool and a good starting point!
Many people know that the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars franchise was, from a design perspective, based off of Nazi Germany. This is evident all throughout the original 1977 film, written and directed by George Lucas. The uniformity of the grey officers’ regalia is reminiscent of the infamous uniforms of Nazi SS Officers. Peter Cushing’s antagonistic character and the face of the Empire in this film, Grand Moff Tarkin (below), represents this connection, and his fellow Imperial Officers share similar clothing (While I will picture Tarkin below, I do not feel comfortable posting a picture of an SS officer on here). Another similarity would be the use of “Stormtrooper” to describe the Empire’s soldiers, a term which developed to describe special forces of the German Empire in World War One and became the common identification for Nazi troops.
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While these more surface-level similarities are worth talking about, there is a different connection beneath that surface. George Lucas was not making Star Wars in the 1940s, he was making them in the 1970s, and he was an American man with a strong distaste for the recent events of the Vietnam War.
In James Cameron’s limited docuseries, James Cameron’s Story of Science Fiction, the acclaimed director behind sci-fi hits like The Terminator, Aliens, and Avatar sits down with Lucas to discuss his space opera. Cameron asks him about his choice to depict the noble Rebel Alliance as a group of rag-tag freedom fighters, and how they are similar to what the US Government might call terrorists today. Lucas qualifies his point, specifying that he was thinking of the Viet Cong, the guerrilla fighters of North Vietnam who warred against the United States for many years, of which Lucas refers to as the “American Empire.” The clip of the interview will be pasted at the bottom of this post if you want to watch! The Rebels (top left) fought against a major technological power in the Galactic Empire (top right), in a similar way to the Viet Cong (bottom left) ending up in a war with one of the world’s military superpowers (bottom right).
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Ultimately, while Lucas was putting forward an anti-authoritarian message in general, comparing the Nazi-inspired villains of his film to America’s actions in historical events very recent to him was a biting commentary, especially when McCarthyism was still fresh in Hollywood’s memory. Although a simple message, that simplicity of the “little guy” standing up to the “big guy” trope is one that works, and is likely why Star Wars has been immortalized in every generation since its release.
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I hope you found this connection as fascinating as I did, and I hope that you enjoyed reading! If you want to suggest me to cover something, feel free to mention it below! I have lots of other ideas, but I'm always open to new ones as well!
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scattered-winter · 2 months
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tagged by @soleadita im kissing u on the cheek like a mob boss
top 15 tv shows in no particular order !!
911 on abc (found family. whump. angst. absolute batshit insane shenanigans. jennifer love hewitt and angela bassett. ryan guzman getting blood all over him on multiple occasions. what's not to love)
gen:LOCK (season 1 only) (there is no season 2 in ba sing se) (found family and robots and cool animation and cool music and found family and coolest fucking dichotomy between hero and villain and and and)
rwby (the WORLDBUILDING. the WRITING. the CHARACTERS. the WEAPONS. GENUINELY IT GOES SOOO SO SO CRAZY.)
the bear (im not done with it yet and lack of actual real bears ASIDE. this show is so so beautiful and masterfully done. im literally obsessed)
supernatural (UNFORTUNATELY some of the episodes do kinda go hard.)
daredevil (the CINEMATOGRAPHY the DEPRESSED BLOODIED CATHOLIC BOY the INSANE WOMEN the JOHN PAESANO SOUNDTRACK truly this show is unmatched)
zoo netflix. (is it GOOD? no. but it is very fun and involves found family living on a plane solving mysteries and trying to stop the apocalypse so truly. does it even NEED to be good)
agents of shield (again i havent finished it but ouhghgoughhghh......found family.....whump.....literally this show was GAME CHANGING for me. i would not be the whump enjoyer i am today if it weren't for the scene where daisy gets shot point blank and lovingly lowered to the ground by the man who shot her. truly. also huge fan of the asian american female lead who is a complex multifaceted character. love her.)
dc's legends of tomorrow (THEEE goofysilly funtimes show of the century. queer found family superheroes who live on a time traveling spaceship and try to protect the timestream from anomalies. they are very, very bad at their job. a zombie apocalypse breaks out in the middle of the american civil war. a giant fluffy teddy bear named beebo fistfights an ancient time demon. they have to save college student barack obama from gorilla grodd. a unicorn bites one of the character's nipples off. truly the most show ever. perhaps of all time.)
kingdom (netflix) (kdrama) (GENUINELY the best zombie media i have ever seen in my life. barring train to busan maybe. the costume design is gorgeous and the camerawork is gorgeous and the characters are complex and multifaceted and the zombies are fascinating and the entire thing is a commentary on class and poverty. and it's set in medieval korea so they have to fight zombies with SWORDS)
carmen sandiego (fun characters. u learn lots of cool things about lots of cool places. found family. heists. nonexistent romance subplots so it's a HUGE win for the aros. stupid little french detective who wears a banana suit onscreen. et cetera.)
leverage (LITERALLY THE SHOW OF ALL TIME. anti capitalist. found family. heists. the government is a corrupt system that only serves the people in power. christian kane beating people up. multifaceted characters. autistic character that's actually like. presented respectfully. and realistically. alec hardison. insane people.)
avatar the last airbender/legend of korra (they KINDA WENT OFF WITH BENDING.)
arcane (the animation......the tragic sisters.......the music.....)
green lantern the animated series (the animation kinda sucks unfortuantely. however. HOWEVER. it has my boy of all time. with the character arc of all time. and learning how rage and vengeance are harmful to everyone including yourself. and how grief and rage go hand in hand and the only way to heal from it is hope. and and and and and)
leo already tagged the gc so im gonna tag @frigidboy and anyone else who wants to do it :]
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Episode 51 Transcript: Music Killed My Grandma!
G: Hellooo everyone. 
C: Heyyy people. Guess what day it is.
G: We're doing a cold open because it's…
C: It's Spotify Wrapped Day.
G: Spotify Wrapped. And we want you to inform us about your Spotify Wrapped this year. Only if–
C: But just the podcast part, I don't really care about your top song. [G laughs] Well, I kinda do, let me know. 
G: Only if- I think it's fun if we find out, like, people who have us as their top podcast, what music they listen to. So we only care about your Spotify Wrapped if you also listen to BABPod.
C: This is true.
G: Yeah. Yeah. We know there is 69 of you [C laughs] who have us as their top 1 podcast.
C: Yeah, that is the stat Spotify gave us. 69 of you.
G: So all 69 of you should tell us. [laughs] 69. I love that number, and I'm very grateful that there's 69 [C laughs] of you guys out there who have us as their top 1.
C: You have to stop saying 69. [G laughs]
G: I think it's so funny!
C: It's really good.
G: This cold open is going on for way too long.
C: Yeah, just tag us on Tumblr and we'll love you forever, thank you.
G: Yeah, Tumblr, Twitter, email?
C: Sure.
G: You can do it. Yeah. Anyway, that's it. Let's get on with the episode!
C: Yeah, have a good episode.
-
[intro guitar music]
G: Hello! My name is Grey.
C: And my name is Crystal.
G: And this is Busty Asian Beauties, a Supernatural commentary podcast where I, someone who has seen this show several times.
C: And I, someone who only knows the show through social media, discuss every single episode of Supernatural from start to finish. Also, we are both Asian.
G: Both Asian! For today's episode [C groans], I still have not pulled out- I have pulled out- what's the name of this episode and who's the director?
C: Who have you not pulled out yet of? [laughs]
G: Wait, don't say "pulled out" independently like that. It sounds weird. What's the name of this episode?
C: "Fresh Blood."
G: Fresh! I was looking up "true blood," and apparently, there's a TV show called True Blood, so-
C: Yeah. Yeah, there is.
G: Okay. So today, we're talking about Season 3, Episode 7: "Fresh Blood," written by Sera Gamble, directed by Kim Manners.
C: Death to Sera Gamble. [G laughs] Um, I can't finish the second part of that because he did die. [laughs]
G: Noo! Noo! We're horrible people.
C: You can cut that out, if you want.
G: No, it's funny. I'm putting it in.
So what are our pre-episode thoughts?
C: Hatred, biting, killing, which are all things that do happen in this episode. [G laughs]
G: Yeah. We had- I don't know. You know, like, sometimes, you watch an episode of a show, and you're like, "Okay." And then that's your only reaction. [laughs]
C: Yeah.
G: That's kind of how I felt about this episode. They were trying to do a lot of things, and the only thing that actually affected me emotionally was the very last thing that they did, the one with the car.
C: Yeah, where Dean is showing Sam how to fix up the car. Yeah, that was a nice scene in an otherwise horrific episode.
G: Yeah, I mean, at this point, is this a horrific episode, or is this just an episode of Supernatural? Maybe Supernatural in and of itself is horrific, and we need to accept this fact.
C: Yeah, to contextualize like, where I'm at, like, since watching this episode, the media that I have consumed are all of season 1 of the Interview With the Vampire (2022) show [G laughs], Little Women, directed by Greta Gerwig, and The Farewell, directed by Lulu Wang. So at the end of that, my main thought about Supernatural is, "Why am I still watching it?" [G laughs] There's a limited amount of time in my life, and perhaps every single thing I could watch other than Supernatural would be better than Supernatural.
G: Yeah, I've been saying since, like, last episode, that I've been playing and actually finished playing The Great Ace Attorney [overlapping] and it's such- it's such good media. It like, it is such a good story, and everything, and it's like, why am I watching Supernatural? There are moments when I was saying The Great Ace Attorney, ‘cause like, a major theme of that game is like, "the people you look up to are not always going to be good," you know, shit like that. And I was like, thinking, they were also trying to do this in Supernatural and it was not this good! [both laughing]
C: Yeah, they try to do a lot of things in Supernatural. And it was not that good.
G: Yeah. So what did you know about this episode before watching it?
C: Gordon escapes from jail, gets turned into a vampire, goes all bloodlusty, and then gets murdered horrifically.
G: Yeah. Good summary.
C: Yeah.
G: We can end the episode now! [laughs]
C: [laughs] Okay, goodbye everyone, see you next week for "A Very Supernatural Christmas." Email us at- okay, anyway. But yeah, I also knew about what Sterling K. Brown, the actor for Gordon, said about this episode, like, I'd seen the excerpt from the interview that he had. Should we just read that now?
G: Sure. Yeah. Go on.
C: Okay. Yeah. So okay, the interviewer asks him, “In Season 3's ‘Fresh Blood.’ Gordon is transformed into a vampire. How did that sit with you?” And he says, “That was really hard. I called Eric Kripke when I first got the script and realized I was going to be expiring. I wasn't so bummed about expiring, because all good things must come to an end. The thing that was horrific for me is that Gordon turns an innocent girl into a vampire. That was hard because his sister was turned, and he had to take her out. That began his career as a hunter. So I know Gordon does a lot of jack things, and isn't the most righteous individual. But did he have to do this? Eric was like, ‘We talked about it for a long time, but now that he's a monster and operates off instinct, he is not so logical, when the bloodlust comes on and you have the desire to feed, it is huge, and your strategy does not take into consideration collateral damage. His endgame is to kill Sam, and anyone else who has to experience detrimental effects because of that is not a concern of his.’ That was tough for me to process and get on board with.” Sorry, Sterling K. Brown! You went to Juilliard for this!
G: Sorry, dude. It's like, when the whole time Gordon was, you know, doing his thing, all I could think of was like, “This should be more emotional for him because of his backstory,” like, that was- Sera Gamble also wrote that episode, so like, why did she forget?
C: Yeah. Yeah, I don't think she forgot. I think she just assumed that he doesn't have feelings?
G: Doesn't care. Yeah, which is weird, given that they were trying to do the whole “monsters can have feelings too” thing for like, God knows how long.
C: Right. Yeah, like, she did the episode with the good vampires that have feelings. But as soon as the vampire is not the pastiest white woman that ever did live, no more feelings.
-
G: So to start, we have Gordon talking to Bela like, in the middle of a road. 
C: Yeah. I do enjoy this interaction. They're good characters to face off.
G: Yeah, because, like, Gordon is like, so dictated by what he deems is good, and you know, stuff like that. And then Bela is an all-money person. It's like, fun!
C: [laughs] It is fun.
G: Yeah, so at first, Bela doesn't know who this guy is, and he says, “I'm Gordon Walker,” and she looks a little bit alarmed, and she's like, “Oh, I know who you are. I've heard about you,” and they start talking, and Gordon has a gun pointed at her, and is basically saying, “Tell me where Sam and Dean is, or I'll shoot you.” And they even do this thing where Bela’s like, “Well, you can negotiate with me,” and then he puts down the gun, and is like, “Well, in exchange for telling me where Sam and Dean is, you get to stay alive,” you know, and stuff like that. [laughs] It’s honestly super fun! I like this scene.
C: It is fun.
G: And eventually what happened is, Gordon is like, “I can give you $3K.” And then she goes, “I don't wake up for $3K.” And…but she sees the little hex bag- they call it something in the show. 
C: A mojo bag. 
G: Yeah, a mojo bag. [laughs] I find it hard to believe that Bela would say ‘mojo bag’ but like, ‘mojo’ is an actual word?
C: Yeah, I think it's a hoodoo thing. It's like, specifically a bag that has powers that derive from hoodoo.
G: Ah, so it's Dean who's using it wrong.
C: Wrong. Yeah. [laughs]
G: Yeah. Okay. So she sees the mojo bag, and she's like, “Oh, that's priceless. If you give it to me, you'll find the Winchester brothers,” and Gordon eventually does, and Bela calls Dean and goes [British accent] “Hey, Dean, where are you?” [both laugh]
C: God, she's so real for this.
G: Yeah.
C: Also Dean picks up like, right away. This man is dickmatized for real.
G: This man is smitten. 
C: It was good to see Bela. I didn't know that she was gonna be in this episode. Oh yeah, also, I think in this scene Gordon calls Sam Winchester the [both] Antichrist, which is very fun. Love that name for Sam. Also, the last time Bela saw Sam was Sam getting sexually harassed by an old woman, so I feel like this is a strange thing for Bela to be hearing.
-
C: So okay, Sam and Dean. They're like, working a case. They're like, near some warehouse, something in the dark. And there's a man who is bleeding out on the ground, and Sam’s doing the whole, like, “Don't worry. We're getting an ambulance for you,” while Dean's doing the [yelling] “Where is she? Where's the vampire?” at this poor, dying man. [G laughs] So Dean runs off. And he does this thing that I've seen gifsetted a lot by people who want to fuck Dean Winchester, where- right, so he tries to lure the vampire out by, like, making a cut across his forearm. He goes like, “Smell that? Come and get it!” And he says, “I smell good, don't I? I taste even better.” [laughs] Okay. And a woman who has her face covered in blood comes over and like, tries to bite his neck, does bite his neck, and then he injects dead man's blood into her, and she passes out. Sam comes over and tells Dean, like, “Hey, that was kind of a risky play there,” which is something that continues throughout the episode.
G: [laughs] Ugh. I hate it here.
C: They've done this for so long. We've done this for so long. 
G: I know! It's been seven episodes. Like, I mean, I get that the main conflict of the season is that Dean is dying. But have we considered that we can have other conflicts in this season? I mean, I guess Sam being- trying to be killed by Gordon is conflict, but like, it's ended now. 
C: Yeah, yeah. Yeah, that one ended pretty fast. Also, I feel like- I find it strange that we haven't seen Ruby for a little while, because they've pushed the whole “Dean's deal” thing as a subplot so hard in this episode and some of the previous episodes, and I feel like we never really resolved Ruby saying that she could get him out of it. But, you know. Whatevs.
G: Whatevs!
-
G: So back in the…motel room. No, are they in a motel room? The transcript says it’s a motel room.
C: Yeah, but it looks sort of like they're squatting.
G: [overlapping] Yeah, it seems like it's just a house. Anyway, there's the girl from earlier, she’s tied up to a chair, and she wakes up, and she is very confused, and like, almost crying, you know. She's miserable, and Sam and Dean are doing their bit of like, “Where's your nest?” And she's like, “I don't know what you're talking about!” And they're like, “Ha. Nice try, bitch. But where is your nest?” You know, stuff like that. Eventually-
C: Yeah. Also, she's very tits out, which I guess we find out later because she was turned at a club, but like, ugh. Do we have to do this? Do we have to? Also she’s blonde, which is relevant.
G: She's wearing a corset, which is- Yeah, she is blonde, and that's gonna be a thing. [laughs]
C: Jesus Christ!
G: Love that. 
C: Love that. 
G: I don't know why that's making me laugh. I'm sorry, blonde women. You’ve been through enough. 
C: Yeah, I’m sorry, blonde women. You have a lot of privileges in life, but one of your not-privileges is that every serial killer wants you. So yeah, F to you.
G: Yeah. So, the vampire, the vampire lady is saying that she took something, and that kind of alarms Sam, and he's like, “Wait. You took something?” and she mentions- it's so fascinating to me that they never say the word “drug” in this episode.
C: [laughs] Yeah.
G: ‘Cause what happened was, she was like, in the club, and then a guy came up to her who was the dealer, and he said, like, “I can give you something that you've never experienced before.” And then he put it in her drink, and then she became like this, and by “like this,” like, she can hear heartbeats from a block away. Lights and sunlight and sounds and everything are so intense, the smells, everything. Stuff like that. And what she's saying is basically, she can't come down. Like, it's fascinating to me also that they never say the word “high.” It's so funny! Like, she's like, “Oh, I took something, and it was from a dealer." But like, never say the word drugs. But then she keeps on saying, “I want to come down. I want to come down. I just want to come down.” And then Sam and Dean like, go to the other room to talk it out. 
C: Yeah. They also ask what the guy looks like, and she says, “He was old. Like, thirty.”
G: Thirty! [C laughing] Wonderful.
C: How old is she supposed to be? Because, like, the actress, like, I would say, is like, 25 to 30 years old. How old is she supposed to be?
G: The guy looks like, 26, you know, and she looks like, 30.
C: [overlapping] Yeah, and she looks 25.
G: So like, what's happening? What's going on?
C: "He was old. Like 30." [both laugh] Do they think only teenagers watch Supernatural?
G: This woman is operating on K-pop age standards, you know, how like-
C: I was gonna say she's operating off of like, queer elder standards. [G laughs]
G: If you were on Tumblr when Superwholock was big, you are a queer elder. [C laughs]
So Sam and Dean go to the other room to talk about it, and they're like, “We have no choice. We have no choice.” And Dean goes back to cut her head off. And, like, I was a bit uncomfortable by the fact that there was no, like, any push back anywhere.
C: Yeah! Uh-huh. Like, we know that vampires can subsist off of animal blood. Like, they met Lenore like, last season, so it would be possible to just inform her of the situation, and then tell her that she has to feed on cattle. When the werewolf-
G: Yeah, why couldn't they hand her off to Lenore?
C: Right. They don't have a Lenore’s contact info, because like, she ran off-
G: Eh, maybe they do.
C: But yeah, they should have gotten Lenore’s contact info. When Maddy got turned, they called Bobby to ask if there was a way to unturn a werewolf.
G: Yeah!
C: They did not bother here.
G: I'm sorry I keep interrupting. But with Maddy, it's because Sam was in love with her, or whatever they had going on. But like, this poor woman, because Sam did not feel an ounce of affection for her, just gets to die?
C: Yeah. And especially because they deceived her earlier-
G: Yeah, and it's so prominent-
C: They were like, "If you tell us what happened, we'll let her go." Like, ugh!
G: Yeah. Also, like, it's made even more prominent, like, the Madison and this girl comparison by the fact that the shot where Dean is like, cutting her head off is pretty similar to like, how the Madison's episode ends, you know what I mean?
C: Right, 'cause it's Sam's face and-
G: It's Sam's face only, and then you hear it. Yeah. So it really takes you back to that episode, and you're like, "Why didn't they try to do literally anything?"
C: Yeah. Yeah. It sucks. It sucks so bad. Ugh.
-
C: So we cut to a hospital room, and the guy that was bleeding out because of the vampire that they just killed, he's there, and Gordon and Kubrick, baby, are here.
G: Jesus man is back! Jesus guy is back.
C: Jesus man is back.
G: And is it just me, [laughs] or is Jesus Guy and Gordon- do they have a little something going on?
C: Oh, they definitely have a little something going on.
G: They have a little something going on. And I love that!
C: They didn't have that much going on last time. I feel like since Kubrick helped Gordon escape, they've had a few stray hookups, so. [G laughs]
G: I mean, spoiler, but Jesus man dies this episode, and the death scene was so like- like, it was like Hannibal, the scene where Hannibal guts Will type of situation. [C laughs] I'm right, though. I'm right, though.
C: Yeah, no, you're right. And that is what romance is. So yeah. You are right.
So right, the two of them are questioning him. They're FBI agents. Oh, I didn't manage to pause and see what the name on Gordon's badge was. I don't know if it was there. It'd be fun if he also did like, rock stars. [G laughs]
G: What do you think would uh Gordon have as his name?
C: Like, what do I think Gordon's Spotify playlist looks like? I have no idea.
G: Do you think it's like, a rule in hunter culture that you should go with a pop culture reference, or do you think that's just Sam and Dean? And if so, what do the others do?
C: I think Sam and Dean are just losers.
G: What do the others do, then? Just use random-ass names.
C: Actually like, try to look up an actual FBI agent and take their name.
G: Oh, that's smart. [laughs] Yeah. Just like what Dean did that episode where he turned out to be like-
C: Oh, when the cop was Black, yes.
G: "I've got that Michael Jackson disease." [both laugh]
C: Just like that.
G: Yeah.
C: So yeah, Gordon asks about the person who attacked the man, and he was like, “Yeah, it was some woman who bit me in the neck,” and they asked, “Did any of her blood get inside of you?” And he was like, “No,” and Gordon says, “Well, that's good, because we would have had to kill you.” And he just stares the guy down afterwards. The guys like, “Haha! Good joke.” And Gordon just unblinkingly looks at him. Is Gordon usually this bad at being an FBI agent?
G: I mean...
C: Like, he's considered a very good hunter. Like, he should probably be better at this.
G: Yeah. But you know, this episode, they were trying to do something, I guess.
C: Yeah, they're like, "He's so scary and evil." So yeah. Whatever.
And the man mentions, “Oh, like, these two guys rescued me,” and Gordon's like, “Huh. What did they look like?” And the guy was like, “Oh, one of them was really tall.” [G laughs]
G: Okay, if you were a witness to Sam and Dean’s shenanigans, how would you describe them? Two white guys...
C: Two white guys, lumberjack look. Yeah, I don't know.
G: I think I would- I have never met a person who was six feet tall. Like, that's my basis of like- that's my-
C: Wait, really? Not even six feet?
G: I don't think so. Like, I don't think so. Because, like, the average height of Filipino men are like 5’8”, something like that, and like, for women, it's like, five foot. So like, I don't-
C: Average?
G: Let's look at the average height for men. "Average height men Philippines." Okay. Average height for a Filipino man is five feet, 4.25 inches tall. Average Filipino-
C: Wait, 5'4"?
G: Yeah. [laughs] Short king. And for women, it's 4’10”.
C: Wait, 4’10”? No. That can be right! For real?
G: Yeah. I'm 5’3”, and I'm the tallest person in my friend group.
C: Wow.
G: If I'm in the train, and we're standing, I'm towering over everyone.
C: Huh! I always assumed you lived your life as a short person. [G laughs] But okay.
G: I'm only a short person in comparison to you, and also, like, every single girl I've dated. [C laughs]
C: Good for you.
G: Thank you. Yeah.
So I think I would be like, “Oh my god, they're super tall,” because, you know, my basis for height is quite short.
-
C: They're leaving Spider, which is the club that the earlier woman said she was at, and they reveal exposition-wise that apparently, all the people who have gone missing have been blonde women, and three of them have gone missing from here. And then they see this guy with a blonde woman like, going around into an alley, so they follow them.
G: It's so weird that they were like, “One guy’s going out with one girl. That must be the vampire.” And they were right. [C laughs] Like, that's the amazing thing. They were right.
C: Yeah. Good for them. So the guy, he has this like, eyedropper sort of thing, and there's blood in it. I- okay, don't you have to- I thought you had to bite them and then feed them your blood. You can just feed them your blood, and that's enough?
G: I think so. Because like, if it's in the mouth, right-?
C: In Interview With the Vampire, they had to.
G: Well, Interview in the Vampire- With the Vampire. I don't know. What is it called? It's IWTV, so it's "with the vampire"- and Supernatural run in very different leagues, so.
C: They actually mention that decapitation is a way to kill a vampire in Interview With the Vampire, though, and dead man's blood is a thing, too.
G: Wow!
C: So they should be consistent, lorewise. And, you know, since Interview With the Vampire’s the better piece of media, then its lore is the one that should be respected.
G: For the very real creature that is the vampire,
C: Exactly. This is the more scientifically-backed show.
So yeah, he is about to put some of his blood in her mouth. Do people in clubs really just take drugs from random people? Like, I know that they do. But like, do they really?
G: I don't know. I'm not the type to like, know anything about drugs so like, don't ask me.
C: That's fair, yeah.
So before the blood can get into her mouth, Dean like, starts beating up the guy. Sam pulls her away and tells her to run. And there's a bit of a fight. The vampire runs off. But you know who is there is Gordon and Kubrick.
G: [laughs] I love that.
C: Yeah.
G: They literally just showed up and like, it's such a bad timing, bro. It's such a bad timing. Because what happens next is, there was a fight scene, and, as you know, I do not know how to describe fight scenes. But basically, they're just fighting. [laughs]
C: Yeah. [laughs] True. They sure are.
G: And then Gordon gets cornered by the vampire. I have no idea how this happens. Like, the logic did not flow for me when I was watching the scene.
C: Yeah, right. Sam and Dean- well, Dean does a thing where he like, decides to like, let Sam escape by distracting Gordon and Kubrick by like, jumping around on cars as they shoot at him. [laughs]
G: Yeah, like, it's a very big deal because it's like, "He's jumping into the line of fire!"
C: Yeah, blah blah blah, he's being so reckless. Subwaysurfersnatural is real, though. [G laughs]
G: Anyway, and Gordon is like, attacked by the vampire. I don't know why the vampire- oh, okay, I get it like. I was wondering like, “Why is the vampire attacking Gordon? Didn't he technically help him?” But like, he knows Gordon.
C: Yeah, 'cause Gordon killed his sister.
G: [laughing] It's literally like "music killed my grandma," but like, “Gordon killed my daughter” or something.
C: Wait, who killed her? Who killed whose grandma?
G: In Trolls?
C: In Trolls?
G: Yeah.
C: [laughing] I haven't watched Trolls.
G: It's the funniest thing! Like, there's this one guy, and like, the trolls love to sing and scrapbook and stuff like that. And then this one guy is like, “I don't want to sing,” and then they give his backstory, and the backstory is like, he was singing, and then his grandma- [both laughing] died.
C: Oh, god, you you know how the Cruella live action movie, Dalmatians killed Cruella de Ville's mother? [laughing] Like, a bunch of Dalmations ran her mother off of a cliff and her mom died?
G: "Dalmations killed my grandma," “music killed my grandma,” “Gordon killed my daughter.”
C: Yeah. [laughs]
-
G: Anyway, back in the motel room, we just have Sam, because, like, Dean is still out and, you know, getting shot at. And when Dean enters, Sam’s like, “Oh, thank god! Where have you been? What took you so long?” And then Dean makes a joke that's like, “Oh, yeah, I got some pie” or something. Good for him! It's a joke, right? Like, he didn't actually like, go out for a slice, or-
C: I don't know. Maybe he did.
G: You never know with this guy. Yeah. [both laugh] And then Sam berates him for doing the whole "go in front of the weapons." And then they start talking about Gordon and the fact that he's out of jail, and Sam asks, “How did he find us?” And Dean stops in his tracks and goes. “Oh my god!” And then he calls Bela.
C: Yeah! Bela!
G: And basically, Bela is like, super laughy like, “Ahaha, yeah, I gave your location to Gordon Walker. It's fine. For money.” And he's like, “Oh, you terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad person.” [C laughs] And then Bela says, like, “Oh, I mean, I was gonna call. I just got sidetracked. And also like, he's just one guy.” And Dean goes, “There were two of them,” and you could see Bela's face fall, which I thought was surprising. Like, does she actually care about the Winchester brothers? Who would've thought? I mean, they did save her life.
C: Yeah, it’s quite cute. Especially because, like, when she says, “Oh, yeah, I sold your location for money,” like, Dean doesn't seem that mad. But what she's like, “What was I supposed to do?” like, he seems mad that, like, she didn't call to warn him. Oh, well, she says, "He had a gun on me,” and like, Dean’s like, “Okay, that's fair enough. You should have just given us a heads-up.”
G: Yeah, anyway, Dean says that like, “If we make it out of this alive, the first thing I'm gonna do is kill you." And Bela’s like, “You're not serious,” and Dean goes, “Listen to my voice and tell me if I'm serious.”
C: What a fucking loser.
G: Like, he's really bumping down on her. And you know what? Something I realized in this scene: maybe I am a Bela apologist. [laughs]
C: Yeah, who's not a Bela apologist?
G: I don't know. People of IMDb are not.
C: That's true.
G: But I am, and this is a girlboss moment for her. And she redeems herself! So like, it's fine. Who cares? I am willing to admit all the mistakes-
C: Were we supposed to be mad at her for selling that information? It was literally fine, and she should have done it more.
G: I know. I'm willing to forgive Bela for her mistakes, which are nothing. She has never done anything wrong.
C: Yeah, exactly. Also, she looks genuinely scared after, like, Dean threatens her life. Which like, I don't know, honestly seemed a little excessive to me. Like, is Bela really that scared of the Winchesters? Maybe a little, but I don't know.
G: Maybe a little, but also, she should have known that they're not going to kill a human being.
C: I mean, they've threatened to-
G: A white girl. A white woman. [laughs]
C: - kill her once every two minutes that they've been around her. But yeah.
G: No, but were they actually trying to kill her?
C: No, but I feel like they would not- I mean they were going to kill her by omission by like, refusing their help.
G: Yeah, refusing to help, yeah.
C: So yeah.
-
C: So we cut to a warehouse where the vampire we saw earlier, who I don't think gets a- oh, no, wait, he has a name. It's like, Dixon, or something, right? Whatever. Who cares? So he's in the warehouse. Gordon is there, he's tied up, and what he sees around him: There's like, two young, attractive, blonde women who are like, chained up by their wrists. And yeah, it's just  such a stereotypical like, horror serial killer den. And I'm very sorry to these blonde women.
G: Yeah.
C: So right, the vampire comes in, and he starts feeding them blood. And yeah, Gordon talks with the vampire a bit. The vampire says that he considers these women family, and “I do what I have to. We're a dying breed.” I wasn't sure throughout this episode if we were supposed to feel sympathy for this guy. Because he has a whole monologue later, too.
G: Yeah, I don't think- We're supposed to see in him, in his desperation, the desperation Dean had when he sold his soul for Sam. Like, stuff like that.
C: Oh, interesting. I did not catch that.
G: Like, later, later he's like-
C: That's true, no that's true, very- Yeah, he was like, “I was desperate. Have you ever felt desperate before, Dean Winchester, when you sold your soul to save Sam?" [laughs] God, it's so fucking funny.
G: Yeah, that's what I was referring to. Yeah, oh my god.
C: Yeah. I just feel like if they wanted him to be sympathetic, like, they didn't have to have him specifically go after hot blonde women he clearly wanted to fuck. [laughs]
G: Yeah. [laughs]
C: Yeah. So right, he says, like, “I know you, Gordon, because you're like, one of the most prolific vampire hunters out there. Like, we're going extinct because of you.” And the whole time, Gordon's like, insulting him and insulting vampires. Yeah, the vampire does the whole like. “Oh, right like, we're so much worse than you, I'm sure, even though you guys killed a bunch of people, too.” Honestly, I'm getting a little bit tired of every single antagonist in an episode, being like, “You think we're so bad. But you are also just as bad.” It's just silly at this point.
G: Yeah, it's repetitive. But also, what if- consider this. A villain who was just bad, just because. And it wasn't like. “Oh, I'm bad, because you're bad, too, and we're bad together." Like, why can't you just accept that maybe you're an evil person, and then stop at that?
C: Yeah. [laughs] Yeah, like, why can't you just be like, “Yeah, I am bloodthirsty. Isn't that fun?”
So he reveals that Gordon, I think, probably apparently killed his daughter. Or like, just hunters in general killed his daughter, and I don't even know if Gordon was one of them.
G: [laughs] Yeah.
C: Yeah. And this guy refers to the blonde women he has chained up as his "new daughters," which again, very weird, because they're clearly like, the sexiest blondes he can find at this club.
G: Also, it's like, the, you know, we we saw him with that one blonde woman earlier, and that was not a daughter. [laughs]
C: Yeah, no. They were about to start humping each other.
So yeah, Gordon is also reluctant to believe this, but he calls these women “fangwhores.” So that's great. [both laugh]
Gordon, yeah, there's just more Gordon insulting vampires. He says something about like, how they spread their filthy disease on pure base instinct, which I feel connects to the way I feel like a lot of vampire media connects to serophobia. But yeah, the vampire is like, “Huh. Well, I've decided, because you're being so vampirephobic, that I am not going to kill you. I am going to do something that you will find worse.” And he turns Gordon into a vampire by like, pressing cuts on their arms together. And yeah, Gordon struggles and yells. He's not having a good time. But, alas! It has happened.
G: Yeah, his scream- like, he's screaming, “Noo!” And then it cuts to like, a whirring sound, to Dean sharpening his machete.
C: Yeah. That was-
G: How do you pronounce muh-sheh-tay? Is it like that?
C: It's muh-sheh-dee, I think.
G: Machete? [gayer voice] Machete. That's such a gay way to pronounce it. [C laughs] I think in Filipino, it's muh-sheh-tay, so like, I'm confused. But he's sharpening that. And I thought that transition was super cool. Like, I liked it.
C: Oh, yeah, it was. Yeah.
G: And Sam and Dean are trying to figure out what to do. Because the vampire is out there, but, like, Gordon, is also out there, so they can't kill the vampire if someone's out to kill them.
So Dean starts saying, like, “Well, if we find Gordon, you do know he's not giving us much of a choice, isn't he?" And Dean is like, “Yeah, let's go kill him."
C: Sam. Sam was like, “Yeah, let's go kill him."
G: Oh, yeah, Sam goes "Yeah, let's go kill him." [C groans] And Dean goes, "Oh, really? I thought you were gonna be- you would have been like-" and then he puts on a voice! Very Greycore. Very Greycore. He puts on a voice, and he's like, “I thought you were gonna be like, [higher-pitched] ‘No, we can't. He's human, it's wrong!’” [laughs] I found this so amusing. Good for him.
C: Yeah. I do find it annoying that they show Gordon being turned into a vampire before this scene happens because-
G: So like, you as the audience, you're like, “It's okay if they kill him because he's a vampire now!” But like, they didn't know that.
C: Yeah, they didn't know that, that's true. So it is still a moral decision that they have made, which is a bad one.
G: Yeah.
C: But I feel like we forgive- they did this so that the audience would forgive them faster because we know that he's not human anymore.
G: Anyway, Dean’s phone rings. It's Bela, and Bela is saying that she doesn't like it when she is being threatened by people. So she found Gordon's location. And how she did this by like, channeling someone, I think, or like a ouija board situation, right?
C: Yeah, uh-huh.
G: Where she like, connected with someone from the dead, and the person from the dead found out where Gordon is, which I thought was super fun. And she gives a location, kind of. A vague location, and like, some street signs or something. And then she said that the spirit also said, “Don't come for Gordon, no matter what." I found this so weird. Like, why would the spirit say that? What's the point?
C: I don't know. Maybe the spirit was like, “He's a vampire now, and it'll be hard for you to fight him”?
G: Why would the spirit care at all?
C: Yeah, I don't know who this spirit is.
G: Yeah. Maybe it's John Winchester. [both laugh]
C: At this point, the blonde women who were turned into vampires recently are still alive, right? So it's not their spirit. I get if it was their spirit, they'd be like, “This guy literally just gnawed my head off. Like, you should run.” But yeah, I don't think that's the spirit she channels. So I don't know.
G: Yeah, 'cause they're still alive at this point. Yeah. "Don't come for Gordon Walker."
C: Yeah, it was just to build suspense in the episode.
G: Yeah. And like, here, like, Gordon- we're back to the warehouse, and Gordon wakes up, and he's changed- chained, just like the other girls. And-
C: He's not like other girls. But he is like other girls.
G: He is like other girls in this situation. He's tied up, and there is like, a beating heart, and like, rushing of blood sound effect that's playing over the scene. So like, you're supposed to be in his consciousness, right? And he's like, struggling through the chains, and then he finally rips it out, and he starts to walk away when one of the girl goes, “Help us, help us.” And he- well.
C: It cuts.
G: It's a suspense, what happens. It cuts right after that.
But he goes out, into the street, and, like, we see him look at some lights, like, a street light, a neon sign, and it's like, way too bright. Way too bright. And then a car passes by, which I thought was like, Sam and Dean, but it's not. It's just some random-ass person. And those lights are too bright, and then he like, looks over to one side of the street, and there's a guy like, fixing a tire. And he like, looks at him with bloodlust, and like, repressed hunger.
C: Also, his eyes are really bloodshot in this scene. He does not look like he's slept well. And I feel like we didn't really see that with the other vampires.
G: I don't know.
C: Yeah, but maybe it's just a side effect of the light? Sensory overload king.
G: Yeah. And what he does is, he hops into the car of that guy, and then, when the guy finishes with the tire and hops into the car, he bites him and kills him. My thought here was like, "Why make him finish the tire?" [both laugh] Like, spare him the misery of changing a tire by killing him instantly.
C: Maybe Gordon took the car to drive to the RV?
G: That's a wonderful idea. And probably true.
C: Mm. But yeah, okay, like, I guess I sort of- like, I know that when you’re first turned, your hunger is very severe, so I guess I can excuse this first killing. But I do feel like Gordon would try very hard to have more control than he is having right now.
G: Yeah.
C: Yeah. I don't know. It's odd.
-
C: So we cut to the warehouse. Sam and Dean go in, and we see what happened to those two new vampires, 'cause their heads are gone, and original vampire guy’s on the ground crying and shit, and he's like, “Go ahead, just kill me.”
G: Yeah. I like the reveal of the of the beheaded girls.
C: Yeah.
G: I thought the the special- is it special effects? What's it called? Practical effects? Were very good this episode.
C: Yeah.
G: So, and I mean, the practical effects of Supernatural, especially in these early ones, are like, mostly good most of the time. It's the visual special effects that are like, “Well, that sucks.” But like, these ones are pretty good. So hats off again to the selling- I don't know. What the department is this? I guess this is the practical effects department .The props department, yeah.
C: Yeah. Though yeah, I do think that one thing to mention is that Gordon's like, victims throughout his arcs have been-
G: Yeah. Are white women.
C: - like, young, attractive white women, and that's like, a very specific thing like, Black men menacing a white woman is like, an image, used a lot of white supremacist literature and such. So yeah, I feel like the reveal was like, very fun in a suspense way, but like, they also did it like that to up the horror of Gordon.
G: Yeah.
C: So yeah, the vampire’s like, “Oh my god! Gordon was here, and he killed my daughters. I should have never brought a hunter here. Like, he killed my family.” And then Dean's like, “Oh, yeah, you're such a family man.”
G: And then it's the beginning of the most contrived monologue to ever exist [C laughing]. Most in your face monologue to ever exist.
C: [laughing] Yeah. Oh my god. Yeah, he's like, “No, you don't understand. I was desperate. Have you ever felt desperate?” And it cuts to Dean's face. “I've lost everyone I ever loved! I'm gonna like, live my whole eternity alone!” Cuts to Dean's face. [both laugh] Like, Jesus Christ.
Maybe this guy was like, “I've watched Supernatural, and I know the only way to maybe make it through an episode is to be a Sam or Dean mirror. [G laughs] So I'm gonna act my vampussy off trying to do this.”
Yeah, the vampire's like, “Just kill me. I don't care anymore. Like, I'm in hell. I'm in the worst. hell." Dean's like, "Well, the worst hell is the actual Hell that I'm going to because I felt desperate, lost everyone I ever loved, and stared down eternity alone." But yeah. And then Sam notices that for the bodies in the warehouse, the heads were ripped off with bare hands and not cut off, which means that Gordon suddenly has a lot more strength than he did before. And he goes, like, “Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?” And it cuts, and we never find out if they actually did kill Dixon, but like, they probably did, it just wasn't important to Sam and Dean's journey.
G: They probably did, yeah.
-
G: The next scene is [laughs] the Hannibal scene.
C: Yeah.
G: It's so good! I was watching it, and I was like, "They really acted in this scene. They were Acting, capital A." But basically, Kubrick is in the RV, where we saw him also, I think, [laughs] flirt with another guy a couple of episodes back. So there is a pattern with this guy. Too bad he's dead.
C: He has a Jesus painting next to him, of course.
G: Yeah. And then what happened was, he hears a sound outside, so he peeks out the window, but then he turns around, and Gordon is there, and he's like, “What happened to you? I thought they killed you.” Gordon says, like, “They did something worse. They turned me.” And they're so near each other! [laughs]
C: They're so fucking close.
G: They're so near each other. And Kubrick goes like, “I'm sorry about that, and you know what that means, right?"
C: He puts his hand on Gordon’s shoulder when he says, “I'm sorry.”
G: Yeah. And Gordon is like, “Yeah, it means you have to kill me, but not yet, because I still need to kill Sam Winchester.” And Kubrick is like, “Gordon. Come on, man, like, we can't do that. I can't let you walk out of here.” And Gordon insists that like, “This is the one last thing that I can do good in the world.” Ah, that sentence is not correct. “This is the one last time I can do a good thing for the world.” There we go. And throughout this, Gordon is like, looking at the crucifix [laughs], which is so funny! But he's looking at the crucifix, and he's like, “Yeah, I'm trying to do a good thing.” And then Kubrick is like, walking in the back, and he grabs a muh-sheh-tay. [gayer voice] Muh-sheh-tay. Muh-sheh-tay? Muh-sheh-tee. Machete. And he like, slowly paces to Gordon, and he's like, “Yeah, you're right. Yeah, it's one last good thing. I agree with you.” And we go to Gordon's  perspective where he hears the heartbeat and all that stuff. And then right as he's about to slice Gordon’s head off, Gordon turns around and inserts his hand through his heart.
C: Yeah. So good.
G: Wild. It's so good, and it's like, the way Kubrick dies is like, [laughing] they stare at each other for a little while.
C: Yeah. And he falls onto Gordon's shoulder.
G: And he falls onto Gordon's shoulder. And Gordon like, kisses his forehead, right?
C: He does?
G: Or did he turns his head in a way that made me think, like, "He's kissing his forehead!" And I was like, “Wow! Wow! Good for them." One of them is dead, but good for them.
C: And he goes like, "Sorry."
G: Yeah, he says.
C: Yeah, no. This is truly romance. What- like, Hannibal ate like, part- what part of Will did Hannibal eat?
G: I have no idea. I don't think that's true. I don't think he ate any part of him.
C: I thought there was a time when he, like, dug one of Will's organs out and ate it.
G: No! [laughs] No.
C: Maybe that's not true. I think he just force-fed Will their daughter's ear. Never mind. That's different.
G: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah.
C: Okay, yeah, anyway, Romance.
G: But this was literally reminiscent of the gutting scene from "Mizumono," which is the last episode of season 2 in Hannibal. Have you seen that?
C: I have not seen Hannibal.
G: You never watched, right? Yeah. Because it's too brutal for you.
C: I just like- they just don't seem very nice, you know? They don't seem like nice people. [both laughing]
G: Maybe Hannibal the cannibal is not a nice person. Have we considered that? [C laughs]
C: I just don't like that he killed their daughter. I just think that if you have a found family, you should be nice to each other. You can kill other people, but you should be nice to each other.
-
C: So they're back in the motel room. Sam and Dean are around, and Dean hasn't been able to find Gordon yet, and Sam goes like, “Hey, give me your phone, because if Gordon knows our numbers, then he can track us down.” And then it it looks like he's just going to take the SIM cards out. But actually he's just stomping on the phones. [both laughing]
G: Stomping with his giant foot on the phone.
C: Yup. And Dean comes back with the Colt, and he's like, “Sam. You stay here, and I'm just gonna go out and get Gordon.” And Sam goes like, “Uh, no, you're not going to do that alone, because you are going to die.” And Sam starts going worked up. He's like, "Oh, you're just acting like you have nothing to lose because you think you're already dead. [G laughs] I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip.” Yeah, Dean says, “I'm more like a ninja.” And Sam says, "That's not funny," and he's right. It's not a good joke. So yeah, Dean's all like, “What do you want me to do? I'm just gonna sit around and write sad poems?” And Sam goes like, “Dean, like, stop joking about everything and stop trying to act like you're not afraid, because I can see right through you.”
G: [laughing] And then, the corniest music starts playing-
C: [overlapping] It's some fucking sad piano music. I feel like if there wasn't this music, I might actually be a little tiny bit touched by this scene. [G laughs] But as soon as the music came in, I was like, "This is the silliest thing I have ever seen on the screen with my own two eyes.”
G: It literally is. It literally is.
C: It's sad piano music.
G: So silly!
C: And Sam goes, [dramatically] “I've been following you my entire life! I've been looking up to you since I was four, studying you, trying to be just like my big brother.” Sam would not fucking say that. Yeah, so he says, “I know you better than anyone in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified.” And he goes like, “I wish you would drop the show and just be my brother again.” And he starts tearing up a bit, and he says, like, "'Cause... just 'cause." And the puppy eyes have worked.
G: Yeah. Like, when he was saying like, "Just 'cause," I was thinking like, he said, like, "Because," and then, like, in my mind, my mind filled up the rest of the sentence with like, "We just have like, less than a year together." And so like, when he continued, like, "Just 'cause," and I was like, "Oh, he stopped himself from saying that." [laughs] Good for him.
C: Yeah. So Dean's like, "Okay, fine. We'll stay here." I- has Sam been looking up to Dean since he was four, wanting to be just like his big brother?
G: I mean, maybe.
C: I- yeah, I mean, I guess I'm the oldest, the older sibling, so I guess I don't understand Sam's position in the family as well, but-
G: I've never looked up to a sibling ever. [laughs] I don't know.
C: Yeah, I think my sister has looked up to me before a bit, but I think that was more our parents doing the whole like, "Why can't you be like Crystal?" thing. So.
G: Yeah, I don't know.
C: Do you think John ever did a "Why can't you be like Dean?" thing to Sam?
G: Yeah, maybe like, "Why can't you just be like, obedient just like Dean, the most obedient child in the world?"
C: Yeah. But I don't really think that's what Sam's saying here. Yeah, I don't know. But yeah, I did like these lines. Just, the music was so bad. Like, I don't know. I feel like we often think that the brothers don't like each other very much, and they probably don't, but they do know each other.
G: Yeah, maybe.
C: Maybe.
G: Do you think they know each other? [laughs] Do you think that's true? I think like, knowing someone is-
C: Well, growing up with someone means you sort of have to.
G: Yeah, but like, you know, like, who you are in front of people you differs, so like, I think there's still room for surprises in the both of them.
C: Oh, yeah, I agree.
G: Because they've only been interacting with each other for so long for like, for long periods of time, I think they know each other around each other. But I doubt that they know each other in terms of, you know, like, "What are you like when you're with somebody else?"
C: Yeah.
G: Which I think is also an important part of your personhood.
C: Yeah. I agree. I think maybe I'm having this reaction because I'm annoyed by like, the Deanfan posts that are like, "Sam will never understand Dean because when Dean's around Sam, all he does is like, act to try to be the perfect parent figure to Sam," blah blah blah.
G: That's untrue. [laughs] "The perfect parent figure for Sam." Sure. Why not.
C: Blah blah blah. Yeah, like, I feel like- first, Dean does not do that. I don't think he does. Second like, you can't spend like, 18 years with someone, like, every single day-
G: Pretending, yeah.
C: - and not, yeah, not trip up, like, at least like, ten-ish times. So, you know.
G: And also like, every single time you are a person, you are a real person.
C: Mm.
G: So like, even if you're like, faking it, you're still real in the faking. You know what I mean? So like, I think it's unfair to be like, "He's always faking." 'Cause like, if you're always faking, then that's just who you are.
C: Yeah.
G: So like, the argument doesn't fly. I support my idea better, which is "We're different people in front of different people," so like, you know, like, they know each other around each other. Like, for example, like, with Charlie later on, Dean is like, you know, very sweet and loving with Charlie in a different way than he is with Sam. So it's like, maybe Sam is surprised by that. You know, stuff like that. Because- blahblahblahblah. I got tired of explaining myself halfway through.
C: Well, yeah, I got it. You're right. Yeah. Also, I feel like is this sort of is a tiny bit of a reveal on like, for Dean, because I feel like we've like, we've seen him talking to Casey, for example, and he said that, like, you know, he's not really that scared because he's just tired. And I feel like we were supposed to think during "Sin City" that like, since he's not talking to Sam, he is being honest with this demon that he's just met. But, like, Sam knows that Dean is terrified. And maybe Dean thought he was being truthful when he was talking to Casey. But like, this is like, confirmation that he is definitely scared, whether or not he knows it.
G: Mm-hm. Yeah.
C: Yeah.
So Dean gets a call, and it's Gordon. And apparently, Gordon tracked them down- or he got the number because he could smell Dean over at the cell phone store because Dean bought a new phone after Sam smashed theirs. And Gordon says like, "You have to come to me because I have a woman who I have held hostage. And you have to come here in twenty minutes, or the girl will die." And Dean goes like, “Gordon, don't do this. You don't kill innocent people. You're still a hunter.” And Gordon goes, “No, I'm a monster.” And- [laughs] okay. [G laughs] This was the thing that Sterling K. Brown did not like. And Sterling K. Brown was right.
-
G: We have Sam and Dean going to the place/warehouse/factory/whatever it is. And they untie the lady, and they carry her out, and Dean is like, “Sam, stay close to me." And then, while they're walking out, Sam’s like, lagging behind, like, maybe three steps, max. And the moment Dean steps out of this, like, one room, the door from, like, you know, like, the thing they used to close up stores, it falls down and locks Sam inside and Dean outside. And all I could think of was-
C: What was Gordon's plan if Sam wasn't walking behind?
G: The thing I thought of was like, "How are they able to lock this?" Like, is it like, an automatic mechanism? Because it's so funny to me that they were like, "Oh my god, it fell! Let's try to kick it down." Like, why don't you try lifting it up? [laughs]
C: Yeah. [laughs] I don't know.
G: But they were having this time of their lives trying to kick down this metal door. Obviously, it's not working. So Dean is like, freaking out like, "Be careful, Sam! Be careful, Sam!" And then on Sam's side, the lights turn out. And Gordon starts speaking in like, the middle of the dark.
C: Yeah, he's so real for this. He's like, watched so many horror movies in preparation to make this as dramatic and cool as possible.
G: Yeah, it's like, Sam is like, "Get out of here, Gordon. I know you're here!" And Gordon's like, "I'm here," and then, like, Sam tries to swing the knife at him, and he's like, "Hahahaha!" Like, Gordon literally went, "Hahahaha." [both laugh] And yeah. So this is just what's happening. And basically, Gordon is saying, like, "I sacrificed everything to be here in front of you right now and like, get the chance to kill you." Gordon calls Sam like, "not human." And then Sam goes like, "Look who's talking." And then Gordon is like, "Well, I'm a bloodthirsty killer. But I guess that's one thing in common for the both of us." And he- and Sam says like, "You're not a bloodthirsty killer by instinct. You are by choice because you didn't attack that poor woman." And Gordon, says, "I didn't. I did something much worse." And then we cut back to Dean, who is fighting for his life, trying to open the door, and the girl has turned into a vampire and is trying to attack him. And he shoots her with the Colt?
C: Yeah.
G: Which feels very like, "I don't want to deal with this. I don't want the extra gore. Let's just use the Colt." That's something Sera Gamble said. She literally said it. She put it in the script. "I don't want the extra gore. Let's just use the Colt."
C: Yeah, or maybe the props team was like, "We've made too many corpses for this episode. I don't like, want to do another headless body. Can we just shoot her?"
G: Exactly. And Gordon says like, "I know you, Sam. I can see right through you. We're the same. And it's too bad, because you won't do the right thing, which is kill yourself." [both laugh]
C: Gordon's on a Reddit forum replying, "Kill yourself" to Sam Winchester.
G: He's flooding Sam Winchester's messages so much right now. "Kys kys kys." [C laughs] Yeah. And he says like, basically, "It's what I'm gonna do after I'm done with you. It's a shame that you wouldn't do it for yourself, so now I have to be the one to do it."
And then, we start seeing, like, the place from Gordon's perspective. So it's like, red tint, 'cause it's like, dark, right? So like, for Sam, it's just dark, and for Gordon it's like, red, and like, he sees Sam clearly, and then he attacks. And they fall out of the wall? Like, the wall collapses?
C: Yeah. Something.
G: The wall collapses, and they're fighting for their lives. And Dean comes in and starts attacking Gordon, and Gordon like, actually bites Dean, so Dean is all bloody. And then I don't know what happens next. But what eventually happens is Sam- ties a cord around Gordon's neck, and it's such a long scene.
C: Yeah.
G: This is such a long scene. He like, pulls the cord to opposite directions and like, strangles Gordon, until the head gets cut off.
C: Yeah, it's pretty excruciating.
G: Yeah, and like, I'll finish this scene first and then we'll talk about it. And then Dean like, recovers from his neck biting situation, and he's like, "Wow! You just killed a super vamped-up Gordon with no weapons." And then he like, cracks a little bit of a, "That's a bit reckless, huh?"
C: It's such a stupid joke.
G: So stupid.
C: Sam did not choose to be in that situation. Right, also, I feel- after Sam kills Gordon, like, they put in like, extra shots of like, Gordon's headless body; Gordon, like, Gordon's head on the ground, letting out a last breath. And it's like, it's not good to look at.
G: Yeah, here's the thing. I- actuall,y me and Crystal. We're talking about this earlier. [laughs] Why am I suddenly talking about you like you're not here? But we were talking about this earlier, and I said like, "Something I find-" 'cause a part of this scene that you're supposed to feel is, "Oh, Sam is vicious. Sam, like, maybe he is different." Like, that's something that I think you're- not, even though it's not explicitly said, it's something you're supposed to think. I just find it fascinating- and by fascinating, I mean, "Oh my god, Supernatural," that like, they keep on doing this specifically to Black men. Like, it's always like, "Sam is vicious. Sam is like, a different person." But every single time, like, the victim is Black men. Like, they do it with- what's his name?
C: Jake.
G: They do it with Jake, and now they're doing it with Gordon, and it's like, both of these deaths are so visceral and so violent in comparison to a lot of other deaths in the show. And it's just like- Crystal, say the thing that you said to me after I said this earlier.
C: Oh, it was- yeah. They were like, "Well, we have to show that Sam's going off the deep end, but we can't make him irredeemable. So let's just have him kill a Black man!" Ugh.
G: Yeah, it very much has that vibe? And it's quite frustrating.
And also, let's talk about- because this is the last we see of Gordon. Obviously, he's dead. But I think we've already said before that like, his characterization, you know, a lot of people have said it probably better than we will, but, like, his characterization, is like, racist.
C: Yeah. [laughs]
G: But, like, specifically, the way the arc ended. What are your thoughts on it?
C: I feel like- I do feel like a lot of the stuff that I'm bothered with with Gordon come from earlier. The way that they set him up to be like- "he's fantasy racist in this world without real racism, or this world where we've refused to acknowledge actual racism." And the way that like, they set him up to be like, this evil, vicious hunter in order to make Sam and Dean look better, which is fucking annoying. And yeah, I guess I was thinking in the shower earlier today, like, in the world where, like, Gordon is the main character of Supernatural like, he like, would get a season where you know he's shown as this badass hunter, but he's like, not very- he doesn't really distinguish between like, creatures that can or can't control themselves, and like, stop hurting people. And then, like, him being turned into a vampire would be an opportunity for him to go through character growth by like, understanding how hard it is to resist the bloodlust, but also understanding the amount of like, reason and sentience he still has, and like, I don't know. I feel like if they wanted to turn Gordon into a vampire, they didn't- but they did it here, just so that they could kill him without feeling bad about it.
G: Exactly.
C: Even when there were like, a lot of narrative opportunities to develop him as a character, they just did it so they could get rid of him
G: Exactly. Like, that's the crux of it. They turned him into a vampire so that they can excuse murdering him. That's literally it. And the thing is, again, like, you said, like, a lot of the things that I don't like about Gordon, what happens to Gordon in this episode are actually like, considerably very little things. Like, for example, like, if you are going to turn him into a vampire, why not acknowledge his backstory? Like, we've said this before, like, it's such an integral part of his character, and it's one of the very first things we learn about him. So why not bring it up now? And it's like, it's frustrating in that way. Because if they really wanted it to end this way, then, fine, you know? It started on a bad note. If they want to like, cut it off- I mean like, the story and the character, then, like, okay, fine. But you could have done it better, and you could have like, acknowledged that he is so person with like, a backstory that you already gave him. Like, you're not even inventing a new one. You've already given it to him. And you can have him- just have, like, very little character growth, you know?
C: Yeah.
G: And it's frustrating that they were like, "No, we just want to get rid of him, and we don't want the audience to think much about it that like, maybe that's wrong of us."
C: All his dialogue is like, "I'm incapable of change, and I'm a monster, and you should definitely come kill me." Like, okay. Cool.
-
C: So we're at the epilogue, which is a pretty good scene, but unfortunately happens in this episode.
G: Completely disconnected.
C: Yeah, no total tone shift. Like, it starts with them just like, chilling out, and Sam just like, getting a beer out of a cooler. Like, neither of them seem to feel that they have committed a brutal act of murder like, five minutes ago.
Yeah, so Dean has the Impala's hood open, and he's poking around in there, and he asks Sam to pass him a wrench, and then he thinks for a second, and he goes like, "Sam. Like, come over here for a second." And he starts sort of like, teaching Sam on how to fix the Impala. Like, he's saying, "These are the things that could be causing the rattle. Here are like, the parts. Look, that's a valve cover."
G: Wow.
C: Yeah, he quizzes Sam a little bit about what the parts' names are. It's quite sweet. And then Sam goes like, "Hey, like, why are you like, teaching me auto shop?" And Dean like, hands the wrench over and tells Sam that, "Hey, like, you should be the one to fix it." And Sam is surprised at this because he says, "Dean, you barely let me drive this thing," which is a new development! [G laughs] In season 1, Sam was allowed to drive the fucking Impala, but whatever.
G: Yeah. But only in relevant moments where he gets to stop the car in the middle of the road and storm out.
C: Yeah, he's so real for that. Next time, he should take the keys as he does it. [G laughs]
G: To leave Dean stranded? So real.
C: Yeah. And Dean goes, "Well, like, it's time. You should know how to fix it, because you should know these things for the future." So they both sort of pause and feel emotions, and then he goes, "And besides, it's my job to show my little brother the ropes." And I feel like you sort of expect Sam to argue or like, say something else about the deal.
G: But he doesn't!
C: Yeah, he doesn't. He just nods, and he starts fixing up the car. And yeah. There they are. End ep.
G: Okay. Ep ends in that note.
-
G: Okay, I have a question for you. Do you think all this like, fanfare about "Dean is going to Hell," and the fact that we have it for one whole fucking season... Maybe- I'm trying to think positive. Maybe this is like, a good thing, because, like, when Dean gets resurrected from Hell, it feels like an even bigger deal.
C: Right.
G: Have we considered that? [laughs]
C: That's true. It does make Cas cooler.
G: Yeah, it makes Cas cooler. Because, yeah. That's- yeah.
C: I do think that it's helpful in the lead-up to season 4 as well because you sort of understand how much grief Sam is going through right now, and how much he would have gone through during the summer when Ruby came over-
G: Yeah, okay.
C: - and just led him into hot demon blood land. [G laughs] Yeah. But also, you know, it'd be nice to have a different B-plot conversation sometimes. [G laughs]
G: Yeah. It's fascinating, because, like, literally in season 2, they just dip regarding plot, and then they resurface the plot. And now it's like, "Here's the plot of the episode. And now, here's the plot of the show." And it's just, "Okay, cool." Sometimes, though, I miss the monster of the week that's just- that's good, you know? I feel like there's no good monsters of the week this season 3 so far.
C: Well, I liked the changelings.
G: Oh, that's right! That is a monster of the week. Yeah. I think you're right, that one is good. But it feels so far away now. It feels so long gone.
C: Yeah.
G: Yeah. So, Best Line/Worst Line.
C: Oh, geez.
G: I think my worst line is like, the daughter line. [C laughs] Like, "They're my daughters." I was like, "Okay, bro."
C: Yeah. [laughs] Yeah. Alright, buddy.
Right, I guess maybe my worst line is like, "I was desperate. Have you ever been desperate?" [both laughing]
G: "Have you ever been desperate?" Yeah.
C: Yeah. But also didn't like Gordon's like, "No, I'm not a hunter anymore. I'm a monster!" Like, okay, bro. Okay. And by "bro," I mean Sera Gamble.
G: I think my best line is probably- should I go the gay route and say that it was the "sorry" when Gordon killed-
C: That was pretty gay. That was pretty good.
G: Yeah. What's his name, even? [laughs] I've forgotten Kubrick's name. Kubrick. So yeah. I like, that line because it like, you know, it's nice. Good for them. Somebody just died.
Also, I want to point out, I forgot to say it earlier, but like, in the scene where Gordon is calling Dean, he lifts his fingers- his hands is lifted up, right? And you can see that his fingers are like- you know how like, when you get manicured and they're pink? It looks like, that because of the blood from like, gripping Kubrick's heart.
C: Ooh.
G: Which is like, super fun.
C: He didn't wash it off entirely-
G: Well enough, yeah.
C: Yeah. So real. God. Do I have a best line? Maybe I should just go with yours. [G laughs] I'll go with yours.
G: Okay. So yeah, that's- That's not it. We still have to do our worksheet. No, not worksheet. Spreadsheet.
C: Spreadsheet, yeah. Right. Okay, so we have misogyny and racism. I think that both of these things are relevant this episode. I think misogyny not too high.
G: Yeah. Because the women don't have speaking roles? [laughs]
C: I'd say a 1. [laughs] Yeah. Yeah.
G: One woman speaks in this- two women speak in this episode, and one of them literally just says, "Help me!"
C: Yeah. So is that a one or two?
G: I think maybe it's a one.
C: Alright. Racism, it's- Okay, yeah, so we go from 1 to 5. It's- should we sort of consider the entire Gordon arc altogether in this rating, or-
G: You know what? I don't know. Because- I feel like we we shouldn't. Let's just consider this episode.
C: Okay. Right. I feel like the whole Gordon is probably a five. I feel like this episode alone, a bit lower. Four-ish?
G: Maybe 2, 3?
C: Oh, three. Okay.
G: Add three, yeah.
C: Okay, we can go with 3.
G: 'Cause like, we're also consider- like, even though we're not considering the whole arc, it's still influenced by the whole arc. So like, you know, like, a 3, I think, is reasonable.
C: Okay. And I don't think we have any homophobia- [G laughs]
G: Do we really put the homophobia in? Is that for real?
C: [laughing] Because of "Bedtime Stories," we added a homophobia column.
G: What even happens in the episode?
C: "Dude. Could you be any more gay?"
G: Oh my god, yeah! It was that episode. Goddamn.
Okay, so, IMDb rating. I would say, this is probably rated- I have no idea how this is rated.
C: Yeah. I feel like this is probably middling.
G: Maybe an 8.3?
C: Yeah, yeah, that seems about right. I'm gonna guess maybe an 8.4 from the IMDbers?
G: Okay. I'm clicking! I can't see it. Hold on! I have to rotate my iPad.
C: Your iPaddy [EYE-pa-dee]?
G: It's an 8.4, you're right! My iPady. You're mispronouncing it. It's eye-puh-DEE.
C: Your eye-puh-DEE. I'm sorry! Your iPady.
G: [laughing] For context, I call my iPad "iPady" in front of only myself and Crystal because I'm too embarrassed to call it iPady in front of literally anyone else.
C: It's your friend!
G: [laughing] I call my laptop "lappytoppy." [both laugh]
C: I say lappytoppy sometimes.
G: It literally sounds like sloppy toppy, which is so funny. [C laughs]
C: Uh, okay, yeah, 8.4 definitely too high for this one. Let's see what takes people have.
Sorry. [laughing] Someone called this "the fluffiest episode so far"? [both laughing]
G: You ever decide that you want some fluffiness in your life, and then you watch this episode, and you go, "That's sufficient!"
C: Okay, someone said that "I don't know what is the writers' problem with female characters on the show. They start them out as interesting, and then go mess the characters up over the course of the events." And then they said, "The Bela story is getting ridiculous, with her using the boys in a way that makes them looking like morons."
G: Well, they are.
C: "But I'm willing to get over this." Yeah, they are. Yeah, I mean, I agree with the first part, but I don't see how that connects. I don't know what they dislike about the Bela story.
G: Yeah, I also have no idea.
C: It ends with, “Oh, Dean, how can you just be so great? Okay, I know it's the crazy fangirl in me talking right now.”
G: It literally is. [both laughing]
So yeah, I think that's it for this episode of Busty Asian Beauties. Next week, we will be discussing Season 3, Episode 8: “A Very Supernatural Christmas.” Bit early, but we're doing it. Leave us a rating or a view wherever you get your podcasts.
C: [muddled] Follow us on- [spits] blargh! [G laughs] Follow us on social media! We are on Twitter at twitter.com/BeautiesPodcast and on Tumblr at bustyasianbeautiespod.tumblr.com. Our official tag is #BABPod, B-A-B-POD, and thank you to everyone who has donated to our Ko-Fi at ko-fi.com/bustyasianbeautiespod.
G: You can email us any feedback, comments, or feedback at [email protected]. See you guys next time, buh-bye!
C: Bye!
[guitar music]
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violeteyedkiller · 1 year
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I posted 2,071 times in 2022
That's 181 more posts than 2021!
1,150 posts created (56%)
921 posts reblogged (44%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@violeteyedkiller
@archerwhiterp
@vampiric-bite
@beyondedenton
@cdwalker
I tagged 1,925 of my posts in 2022
Only 7% of my posts had no tags
#out of screams - 663 posts
#answered - 159 posts
#q - 109 posts
#v: hunter killer - 105 posts
#dash commentary - 90 posts
#stanisms - 77 posts
#still accepting - 75 posts
#vampiricbite - 53 posts
#mature - 49 posts
#archerwhiterp - 48 posts
Longest Tag: 136 characters
#yes but also the trope of slowly building themselves back together with the help of a small handful of others they slowly learn to trust
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
@anedendarkly​ asked: ❛❛ That’s enough emotions for today, goodnight. ❜❜
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A small huff. 
   “I can take a hint.” Perhaps their usual ‘chat over drinks’ got a little too deep this evening. 
   “You.. want me to walk you home? Or to a Seam?”
28 notes - Posted September 1, 2022
#4
HOLY SHIT Y'ALL I GOT THE JOB!!!!
30 notes - Posted April 21, 2022
#3
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   “I can make you worse, baby.” 
31 notes - Posted January 1, 2022
#2
@beyondedenton​
Continued from X
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His head tips into the other’s touches, a low string of rumbles, clicks and purrs free flowing thanks to the alcohol, fingers in Lirim’s hair slowing as he was becoming pre-occupied just enjoying hands in his own hair. 
   “Hmmmm...mm..Hm??” 
He had gotten a bit distracted there, not really hearing Lirim’s question. 
34 notes - Posted March 13, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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@vampiric-bite​ asked: 
"What exactly.. are you?" The fledgling’s eyes are (somewhat) innocently looking at the stranger. While he himself had no malicious intentions, he was cautious. And ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. (From Rei)
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  “Well if I were to tell you flat out, that wouldn’t be much fun now would it?” Violet eyes look the other over in a rather opposite fashion. There was no innocence there.
   “What do you think I am?” 
35 notes - Posted February 10, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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kuroosweakness · 3 years
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“i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight” | kuroo, suna, atsumu 
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a/n: first post in a while :’D i love commentary so pls leave some interesting tags/ comments :)) as much as i love kuroo, i have to admit i got butterflies while writing suna’s part
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kuroo tetsuro 
╰ “tetsu, i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight” 
his head whips around so fast. his hands grip the edge of his desk to stable himself as he questioningly asks, “why?” kuroo’s eyebrows furrow as his eyes narrow in on you. 
“mm, no special reason,” you quip back. “it’s just too hot in here.” as you turn to leave the bedroom to grab a blanket, kuroo scoots his chair and clasps your wrist. 
“we can turn on the ac or a fan if you want,” he says with a hopeful smile–the same smile he uses to provoke convince you into things. before you can give it some thought, he pulls on your wrist to bring you closer (most likely to fog up your brain with kisses), but you’re quick to dig your feet into the carpet and resist. 
“it’ll still be too hot,” you laugh and with a final tug, your wrist slips out of his hold. “i’m gonna go get blankets to set up the couch!” kuroo leans back in his chair and twirls the hem of his shirt with one finger. 
“set up blankets for me too,” he calls out with a smile. and with that, he gets up from his chair and pads across the living room to help you find the blankets in the messy closet. 
as you reach up, you see his shadow cast over the closet, indicating that he’s standing behind you. kuroo is so tempted to tickle your underarms, but he knows it’ll only resolve in you avoiding his touch for the rest of the night. 
“i guess our bed will be lonely tonight,” he hums as he bundles his favorite red and black blanket in his arms. 
“but if you’re sleeping on the couch too, you’ll heat it up and it’ll be too hot...” you quietly bring up as he shuffles out of the closet. 
“so i’m the problem here?” he teasingly asks while sending you a look of amusement. he shakes his head as he walks over to the couch. “and suddenly, i’m cold-blooded” 
~~~
“the bed’s a lot more comfy than the carpet, y’know,” you quietly say. you turn to look down from the couch at the back of his head. his black hair is barely visible in the dark. expectantly, the couch can barely fit one person, and kuroo decided the one person would be you. so there he is, laying on the carpet next to the coffee table on his belly. 
he grins under his pillow and muffles, “if it’s so comfy, why don’t you come and join me there?” 
you blink, trying to come up with a better answer other than ‘it’s too hot.’ this prank is taking a lot longer than you had expected. is it too late to tell him that you only said you wanted to sleep on the couch to be dramatic? 
“speaking of which,” he starts. “you’re covered in a lot of blankets for someone who claims-” his hands leave the sides of his pillows to make air quotes, “-it’s too hot.” 
you breath hitches for a moment before sighing and throwing your blankets aside. why must he catch on to everything? you slowly sit up and slides off the couch. as you land beside him, his hand snakes around your waist and pulls you in closer. already, you can feel his body heat. 
“we should stay like this,” he says. his face leaves his pillow and turns to look at you. “camping out in the living room isn’t half bad” 
suna rintaro 
╰ “rin?” 
suna hums back in response before taking a long sip of water. 
you peek into the kitchen and catches his glance for just a second.  “i’m gonna sleep on the couch tonight.” 
above his red cup, you can see his eyebrow raise in question. he tilts his head back further to gulp down the remaining water. after a final gulp, he brings his cup down on the countertop and shifts his weight onto one foot. 
“can i ask why?” he asks with maintaining eye contact. he takes a couple steps toward you before leaning against the wall on his side, one hand holding onto his elbow. 
“i just feel like it’s too hot to sleep in the room...” you reply back. “i was practically sweating the other day. it feels too stuffy sometimes” 
“maybe we can open a window before sleeping...?” he brings up. “but if you really want to sleep on the couch-” he raises his hands in defeat and slowly walks out of the kitchen. “-do as you wish.” 
~~~
“why’re you gathering blankets?” suna crawls across from the front of the bed to the bottom to meet you before you leave the room. 
“i already told you, rin.” you give him small smile. “the couch? i’m gonna sleep there? remember? i told you an hour ago.” 
suna takes a good look at the blankets in your arms and sighs. “i didn’t think you were serious...if it’s really that hot, we can just open a window or turn on a fan or sleep without covers. the couch isn’t for...” he lightly scowls. “...sleeping.” 
“why’re you so against me sleeping on the couch?” you tease as you catch the blanket that was slipping out of your embrace. 
“because you have a perfectly good bed to be sleeping on,” he says while using an arm to display the bed behind him. “and wouldn’t it be scary to sleep all alone in the living room in the dark?” 
“....no?” 
“aw c’mon, there’s gotta be a better solution than you sleeping on the couch. and what am you supposed to do when it’s july? am i gonna be sleeping alone for 3 months...???”
miya atsumu 
╰ “’tsumu!” 
“yeah?” he calls out from the bathroom. you hear the doorknob jingle and looks up to see your boyfriend with a towel wrapped around his lower waist. atsumu ruffles his wet hair with a smaller towel and grins at your interested eyes. 
“i was just gonna say...” you try your best to peel your eyes away from him and back at your phone. “...that i’m planning to sleep on the couch today.” 
atsumu stops drying his hair and gawks at you. “whaaat? what for?” he plops his half-naked self on the couch and scoochs closer you. “c’mon babe, answer me. what for??” 
“it’s really hot in the bedroom,” you reply back while biting back a giggle as he nuzzles against your neck to see what you’re scrolling through. 
“that looks really badly photoshopped,” he points out as you pause scrolling to see the obviously photoshopped girl at a beach resort picture. 
“even my fans’ edits of my 10 pack looks better than that,” he chuckles. before you can say something, he frowns and brushes his cheek against yours. “anyways, remind me why you’re gonna sleep on the couch again.” 
“i wasn’t actually being serious.” you roll your eyes. “why would i sleep on the couch when i have a nice bed?” you give him a small smile and leans against him. atsumu blinks and bumps his cheek against yours, a bit harder than before. 
“a nice bed and a nice boyfriend,” he remarks with a grin as he slowly sits up to get dressed in his usual pajamas. “see ya in 2 minutes, babe....not on the couch this time” 
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shlutnutt · 3 years
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make it hurt
sum: punishing tate for being a bratty bitch lol
w: dom reader x sub tate, vibrator usage, handjob, oral(female recieving), overstimulation, edging, 69 kinda?
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Your beloved remained silent, more than well aware of the small deep-colored vibrating toy you fidgeted around your palm. Not a single word escaped his lips nor a muscle seem to have shifted for comfort. He only layed on your guys' shared bed, the black latex suit he had on delighfully reflecting against the bright slightly orange-tinted lamp that resided just a few feet away from him. You would've believed he'd fallen asleep in his pretty boy fuck suit until you suddenly heard him voice
"i want it to hurt.."
Ignoring his neediness, you watched how Tate quickly returned to his dimming silence, filling in the quietness from his commentary and unzipping the black mask, removing it from his head roughly, just for you to encounter nothing but obvious sweat spots on his forehead, under eyes and his shaggy hair, giving it a beautiful slight wet look, whilst he only breathed heavily, attempting to inhale in the cool air that explored the bedroom.
"Im not satisfied with you behavior today, you nee-"
"yes! yes i know, please.. punish me, please. i deserve it~.."
Tate's neediness only made your insides crumble, the way he patiently waited for your arrival in his fuck toy suit, how he was positioned and ready for you. You only allowed your cunt to form those bitter-sweet juices you'd let out of whenever you were excited, whenever Tate excited you. How he'd ever so often give up his need of showing dominance and fully submit to you, never failed to drive you over the edge.
"Tell me what you want, my pretty toy?" you firmly questioned the man, observing how his eyes scanned through your body, in which you only snapped once, catching his gaze by surprise.
"I need you to touch me.. to make me yours, tease me, bite me, kiss me. I want it all.. p-please, y/n~" Tate was quick to reply, shifting his gaze from your own down to his enlarging crotch, in which's sight you hummed to, him softly whimpering under his breath from the lack of touch.
Langdon knew how much you hated when he had an attitude with you, like today, how he continuously rolled his eyes at you whilst you tried to explain why you were in such a hurry to leave for work. Obviously even after apologizing a counted amount of times, you were aware of how much he wanted to get on your nerves again, now it being knowingly known that he was aware of needing a well taught lesson as well.
You, though only looking over at his needful self, you continued to toy around the buzzing object you had in hand, deciding between which level were to be the day-maker for the both of you.
Now taking a few leepful steps towards the man, you managed to delighfully remove the lace underwear you wore under the silk pyjama gown that hugged your form nicely, standing brief-less beside Tate, his eyes becoming needier to the minimum movement.
"i ne- oh~" you heard Tate get rudely interrupted, by the feeling of your kneeled leg applying pressure onto the bed, sinking down slowly you decided to include your left leg now, lifting and accomodating it by his toned side, you straddling his suited form now.
"what was that?" you only leaned down to whisper, the feeling of your dampened cunt leading you to the thought of skipping the teasing procedure and going straight to what you came for.
Tate only breathed heavily, holding aback those sweet little moans, as you glided the powered-off toy up and down his upper chest, tapping it smoothly across his pink-tinted clothed nipples. "baby.. please. please.." he only proceeded to beg, as the little sweat that rested on his forehead multiplicated with each and every tap you'd gift him with. "m-mommy!" Langdon yelled out now, the twitching of his cock speeding up under you, more than prepared for it's release from the slight bit of sexual affection you shared with him.
"don't cum until I tell you, okay?"
"mhmm~.."
"use your words."
"yes. yes, okay? yes!"
His urgent response was what drove you over the edge, what made you quickly switch your position from regular cowgirl to reverse cowgirl ontop of his upper chest, your bare cunt only being a few inches away from his face, making him whimper to himself, his member only being a few inches away from yours, making those sweet-bitter juices now drip out of your cunt.
"are you gonna be good for me?" you questioned with need.
"i p-promise i'll be good.." hesitated Tate, knowing how difficult this task was going to be due to how bad he wanted to cum already.
Unzipping his crotch zipper now, you set his pre-cum dipped cock free, bits and bits of little juices leaking out of its reddening tip. The view only being mesmerizing and needful, you were quick to turn on the vibrator on the lowest level available and rapidly attaching it to the very tip of his cock, smoothly gliding it down to the base, lower to the balls and back up right behind the tip, memorizing how this sweet spot drove him crazy, his moans increasing suddenly to the gesture.
Enjoying his struggle you soon turned up the toy to its higher setting, now starting with the balls and back up. Adding extra pressure onto his tip you notice how his toes curled and his thighs shook repeatedly, his release not being too far from nearing.
"remember what i told, Tate." you reminded as you felt him become uncontrollable by the second, you continuing your work.
Tate was more than eager for your approval to his release, so he found a quick distraction. With your pussy being ever so near to his face, he stuck his tongue out, it surprisingly reaching your clit. Him toying around with it as you toyed around with his tip, you couldn't help but to give in and push yourself further onto his face, his cock not for once not being your main focus point at the moment.
As the toy buzzed onto his, you proceeded to gift him with his request, for it to hurt.
You only powered off the toy and threw it to the side, retracing your concentration onto what you had infront of you, you elbowed on either side of his thighs, your cunt still being devoured by the man.
Carefully utilizing his pre juices as lube you begin to jerk him off, his moaning becoming unstoppably loud onto your pussy, the humming sensation making your legs tremble. You guided your hands to firmly grip on his bulge, making your way up to his tip and down to his balls repeatdly, increasing the speed with each and every moan he let out.
Hearing Tate shout out, "i c-can't.. im close!", hinted you that you were doing more than good, so you of course had to make it better. You stopped giving him his pleasure, edging him to making him near on cry in frustration. His begging and loud raspy whimpers feeling your heart with desire and pleasure, you slowly resumed your work, feeling his hot breath fan your cunt with the satisfactory sigh he let out.
"..hmm~.. can i cum now?" Tate was hesitant to ask, his tip now turning purple from overstimulation.
"think you deserve to cum?"
"y-yes!"
In no time you felt his release shoot up, landing on you and himself, you observing as his member returned to its natural pale-pink shade.
"i don't remember giving you permission.." you looked back at him, his eyes tighly shutting closed as you got up from your stance to pick up the toy you threw out of the way previously.
Turning on the toy to its higher setting once again you decided to involve your tongue with your work now, you licking at the base of his cock whilst the vibrator did its work on his overstimulated tip, his whimpers and uncontrollability just boosting you to keep going.
"i'll make it hurt, my pretty boy."
tags// @divineruler @copy-of-a-cheeto @evanmybeloved @billyhxrgrove @sinnersblood @crssjjh @myriadofcranes @mossybank @the-hotel-cortez
(dm to be in taglist! :) )
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deadmunds-ghostbee · 2 years
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You’re a sensible and level headed person in the Bridgerton fandom, what is your take on the EW feature? I don’t think I’m a super reactionary person, however, I’ve had a creeping feeling that S2 just isn’t going to be good (both critical reception wise and fan response/satisfaction). TVWLM is the best book and they’re bungling with it for some reason…
Haha I'm glad I seem sensible! Yes I try to keep this a relatively drama and discourse free blog.
That being said, I've turned off my asks for the next day or so because I'm gonna write big long fun posts about the new content we got today but don't have the time to answer anything beyond this one.
To be honest, my first reaction to the article wasn't actually how I personally felt about it. I saw that Jonny and Simone weren't the cover and I thought, 'oh dear, people are going to have things to say about this.' And they did and they still do about many of the things mentioned in the article. Which is obviously fine.
Onto my thoughts: Entertainment weekly is no award-winning publication. There were points where I thought the journalist extrapolated to a hilarious amount (like in the post introducing the characters, they implied that Theo Sharpe and Eloise would be good for each other??) and points where it was just hot air.
I DONT EXPECT ANYONE TO READ ALL THIS BUT HERE GOES
The cast had some insightful things to say about themes and commentary, and ultimately I have no real opinion on the fact that they focused on the side characters a lot. Those characters are a sure bet. It's press and I won't claim to understand marketing or the semantics of scheduling. I do think it would be weird if we never got a Jonny Simone cover somewhere at some point, though.
In terms of bungling it, safest assumption is that it's a bit of a wash? What are the chances that it'll be amazing? What are the chances it'll be theworstfuckingthingever? Small for both. There will be good and bad and it will certainly never be 'great' with the way it bites off way more than it can chew in terms of class, race, and even women's issues. In terms of pulling off a good romance, though, I have faith.
The actors (Jonny in particular) have shown very keen understanding of their characters, and they continue to hone in on important character beats such as Kate's utter devotion to her family and Edwina. I don't think Kate and Anthony's story can be bad with good performances and chemistry, and a basis of the characters we love. Even if it *is* bad, nothing's ruining Kathony for me because I'm not letting it lol.
This opinion may get me in trouble: I personally don't really care how well it is perceived critically or by GA or my followers. I only care that I like it myself (which I am determined to do within reason), and that I can continue to enjoy writing/reading fic. How good the subsequent seasons are also isn't something I care about, but for the rest of the fandom's sakes, I hope yall enjoy it.
Critics usually overexaggerate and GA (and by that I mean, non-internet ppl who don't think too hard about it) are easy to please. I don't think it'll do the same numbers but whatever. The promo isn't a disaster but it could probably be better.
Now onto the last part which is probably what a lot of the question was about.
I think the largest points of contention in the article were the "Bombay" thing (which people have rightly complained about. I'm no history wizard and I'm also a white girl from the American midwest so I don't want to play any role in the discourse other than listen. Anxiety is warranted and I hope it is aptly criticized when it comes out). And the 'triangle' thing.
I think we've gotten to a point today where people are mostly trying to be positive in the tag after a chaotic afternoon. I agree. The words seemed offhand, innocuous, meant for GA, and also infused into the article without hearing it straight from Jonny's mouth. Passing interest from Edwina or Anthony will probably last two seconds.
This may be bold, but even if Edwina is into him, or (worst case scenario?? And HIGHLY unlikely) upset about the marriage or even if Anthony PROPOSES/almost marries her, it would be a wild divergence but I wouldn't completely hate it. Kate's twofold guilt/turmoil would be interesting. This wouldn't just be "fighting over a boy," it's been driven home that Edwina and Kate are soulmates, and that they are adding depth to the relationship. So the worst case scenario is only moderately upsetting for me, but I have more hope than that anyway. We've been conditioned by popular media to assume all love triangles are bad. Drama can be annoying but it can also leave room for character development. it's a generally interesting narrative choice to have characters be into someone that isn't their true love beforehand (a la Siena), which, in a show that boasts its "progressivism" and a fandom which wants it to be even more so, is a more modern idea.
Adding drama and complexities to subplots in order to give your cast things to do can be okay if done right. Promo isn't the nail in the coffin for actual screen time and even if Kathony is only on screen for a half or third of the time, 4 hours of content is better than nothing. That ratio will only continue in later seasons as they keep adding to the cast. Polin's story will be so bloated with Danbury and Queen stuff and Eloise drama and setting up the next phase of the show if they even have it, so why cross compare?
So tldr
The best way to think about S2 is a fun AU, no expectations. Whatever the s2 is, it may be show-canon but it isn't gospel.
If you don't like s2 then it shouldn't ruin your entire bridgerton experience. It's okay to be disappointed, but like, being disappointed is what real life is for. It's not coming anywhere near my escapism.
***
Now that this essay is over I'm gonna write a post abt actual theories!! If you made it this far, Godspeed homie.
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drabbles-mc · 3 years
Text
I Know A Place
Juice Ortiz x F!Reader
Request by Anon: can you do a Juice x female reader where she's out with Juice as part of a small errand that she needed to do, and her dad Piney insisted she needed an escort due to the shit happening with Zobelle - and they have to hide at one point and (there's already some tension going on at this point) after impressing him with how much she can run, at one point he needs to pull her flush against him, and his hand gets a feel of how ripped she is and it all comes to a head when they reach a motel
Warnings: language, unprotected sex
Word Count: 3k
A/N: I did tweak a few things from the original request, hope that’s alright! I try not to be too descriptive of body types when I do reader inserts because it’s just not as inclusive, so I left it kind of vague as I do with all of my fics that are written in this style. Also, instead of a motel it’s a safehouse. But Juice still gets some so it all evens out haha. Enjoy! xo
SOA Taglist: @mijop​ @adela-topaz-caelon​​ @masterlistforimagines​ @garbinge​​ (As always, if you want to be tagged in anything going forward just let me know!)
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You couldn’t deny that you were a little annoyed when the club essentially assigned you a babysitter. You’d fought Opie and Tig on it for a hot minute, only caving when Piney spoke up. There were a lot of people that you could afford to piss off but he really wasn’t one of them. He told you that you were going to have someone with you until things calmed down again, and that was that.
“Oh sure,” Opie said with a shake of his head, “you’ll listen when he says it.”
“Yea, ‘cause you’re not my father,” you shot back at him with a roll of your eyes.
“And you’re also not as scary,” Jax piped in with a laugh.
You wanted to hold onto your frustration but you couldn’t help but to crack a smile, knowing that he was completely right. Opie might’ve been tall and stoic, but he was still your brother and you still knew too many embarrassing things about him to ever be fully intimidated by him the way that you were with your father. Opie had a softness in him that your father never had.
“Who’s gonna be babysitting me, then?” you asked as you plopped down at the bar.
“Got a preference?” Jax chuckled, “I’ll see if I can make it happen.”
You looked over at him, clearly unamused, “I’d prefer to not have anyone stuck to me like glue.”
“Well that’s out of the question,” Piney spoke up with a shake of his head. He paused, turning to Juice, “Juice.”
He looked up from his laptop, eyes bright, “Yea?”
“You’re gonna be keeping an eye on Y/N for a while. Got it?”
He nodded, always glad to be given a task. You don’t think that he’d ever said no to the guys the entire time he’d been involved with the club, even when he probably should have. You looked over at him, and as annoyed as you were that you were going to have a protective detail with you, you had to admit that there were much worse people to be stuck looking at all day while you ran errands. The two of you never got a whole lot of quality time together, but he seemed sweet enough.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” you looked over at him, trying not to take your frustration out on him, “I got some shit I gotta take care of.”
“Now,” he stammered slightly as he shut his laptop, “N-I’m ready now. I’m good to go,” he nodded.
You chuckled, “Alright,” you tossed him the keys to your car, “then let’s hit the road, Juan Carlos.”
He caught the keys, but barely. You bit back a laugh as you shook your head. He tossed his laptop to the side and made his way over to you. He led the way, opening the clubhouse door for you. You flashed him a smile as you walked out, wondering how a man like him ended up in a club like this.
Letting Juice drive was a calculated decision on your part. You felt like you’d learn more about him from the passenger seat. Plus he was nice to look at and that was difficult when you needed to have your eyes on the road to drive.
“This because of what happened to Gemma?” you asked, breaking the seal of silence in the car.
“Wh-what?” his body tensed.
“All of the women being assigned body guards,” you clarified, “Is it because of what happened with Zobelle and Gemma?”
You could see him hesitate, but that answered your question as well as anything. After a moment he nodded, “Yea. Protocol until further notice.”
You nodded slowly, “Gotcha,” you looked over at him as he parked your car, “You pissed that you’ve been demoted to babysitter?”
There was a small smirk on his face as he turned and looked over at you, “Guess I didn’t consider this a demotion.”
There was something about his tone and the look in his eyes that made your face suddenly feel warm. You smiled and shook your head, “Right,” you took a deep breath to try and get your mind right, “You ready?”
He nodded, hopping out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you. You smiled, surprised by the gesture. He held his hand out to you and you took it despite the fact that you didn’t need it. You saw the way that the muscles in his arms flexed as he helped you and you found yourself involuntarily biting your bottom lip.
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yea. All good. Let’s go.”
He chuckled just loud enough so that you could hear it and you shook your head at yourself. You went from extremely annoyed with the entire situation to very into it in the matter of one car-ride and you wished that your hormones would stay out of your thought pattern. There was a reason he was assigned to make sure you stayed safe, it wasn’t exactly the best time to be gawking at him.
As you continued to check things off of your to-do list, you found that Juice really wasn’t bad company. He was sweet, and funny. You didn’t remember the last time someone made you laugh that hard while you were grocery shopping. He pushed the cart for you and you really wondered why someone who had so much gentleness in them would want to be part of an outlaw motorcycle club.
“Can we stop and grab a coffee?” you asked after you’d stacked your grocery bags in the back of the car, “My treat, since you’ve been so helpful today despite the fact that I was kinda shitty to you about it at first.”
He laughed, “Yea, coffee sounds good.”
“I know a good spot a couple blocks up. Up for a walk?”
“Sure,” he nodded, waiting for you to start leading the way.
The two of you walked together, and you chuckled as Juice provided commentary on everyone and everything that you walked past. There was something about him that made you think that he was the kind of person to never run out of stories.
Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of yelling and cursing coming from farther up the block. Juice stopped in his tracks. Throwing his arm out in front of you to make you do the same. His brows furrowed as he listened intently, trying to figure out who was making all of the noise and why.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath before turning to you, “you gotta go.”
“What?”
He nodded back in the direction the two of you had just come from, “Get back to the car. Quickly. I’ll meet you there.”
“Juice what’s going—”
“Just go,” he nudged you in the right direction as the voices got closer, “please.”
You saw him reach into his kutte for his gun and that was the moment you decided that whatever the problem was, it was above your paygrade. You took off at a swift run as the voices got louder, and you could hear Juice yelling something back at them. You were nervous, but the only thing reassuring you at all was that you didn’t hear any gunshots. Whatever was happening, the chaos must’ve been somewhat controlled.
The run back to your car felt much longer than the walk away from it. You were practically gasping for breath as you fumbled around for your keys in your purse. Just as you were about to slide the key into the lock, you felt someone’s body press firmly up against yours. You started to let out a scream but they clapped their hand over your mouth.
“It’s me,” Juice sounded about as winded as you did, “Sorry, it’s me,” he let go of you, but his body was still flush up against yours, “Quick, unlock the door.”
You wanted to make a smart remark about how that’s what you had been trying to do before you got body-slammed, but your brain wasn’t working well enough for that. You were trying to turn your key in the lock while not thinking about the way his chest pressed against your back with each deep breath he took to recover from his run to you.
You were finally rewarded with the clicking sound of the door unlocking. You flung it open and scrambled over to the passenger seat, letting Juice climb in after you. He slammed the door shut and immediately turned the car on, throwing it in drive and peeling out of the parking lot.
Both of you were silent as he tore down the streets of Charming. You wanted to ask what that was all about, but you weren’t sure how much you really wanted to know.
Once his breathing started to level out, he glanced over at you, “You’re fucking fast,” he laughed.
You chuckled, leaning your head back against the seat, “Adrenaline and fearing for your life will do that,” you looked over at him, trying to search his face for some answers. Despite your better judgment, you asked, “What was all of that about?”
Juice sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to lie to you about it, “Zobelle isn’t the only person the club has pissed off lately.”
“Really racking up popularity points, huh?” you shook your head.
He laughed, “Yea. Mayans called off the truce. So it’s pretty much on-sight at this point.”
“Jesus Christ,” you ran your hands down your face, “So what now?”
He shrugged, still with a white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel, “Um. Good question. We can head back to the clubhouse, or we can find somewhere to lay low for a couple hours.”
The last thing you wanted to do right now was face your father and your brother. You looked at him, watching the way he stared intently at the road, “Where’d you have in mind?”
“Hm?”
“To lay low,” you sighed, “I don’t wanna fucking deal with Opie right now,” you let out a humorless laugh, “And if I don’t, I know you definitely don’t.”
He laughed despite the stress weighing on his brain, “That’s fair. I think I know a place.”
He didn’t elaborate further, and you didn’t ask him to. You rested back against the seat and watched the buildings and yards fly by your window as Juice drove you off to wherever he figured was a safe place to land. The longer he drove, the more relaxed he became, which in turn made you feel a little better as well. There was a tiny part of you that wanted to reach out and rest your hand on him, but you knew that was just the adrenaline talking, or at least that’s what you told yourself.
The car came to a stop in the driveway of a small house in a town that neighbored Charming. You’d never been there, and it didn’t look like anyone had been there in quite some time. You looked over to Juice, eyebrows raised as you waited for some kind of an explanation.
He looked over at you and gave a small shrug, “Club safehouse. Seemed like as good of a place as any to kill a couple hours.”
You shrugged and nodded, “Fair enough. It got a fridge? I don’t want all my groceries going to waste.”
He laughed, “Yea, it’s got a fridge. Your ice cream will be fine.”
You grabbed the bags out of the back of the car while he went and unlocked the house, checking to make sure that everything was alright. You knew the chances of anything happening to the two of you were slim to none. It wasn’t likely that they were able to tail you, Juice had driven all over god’s green earth to make sure that didn’t happen. Still, you felt a little better knowing that this was a designated place for laying low and staying out of trouble.
Setting the bags down on the counter, you started to take out everything that needed to be in the refrigerator or the freezer. It wasn’t much, but Juice was right when he called you out about the ice cream. It was the first thing you took out and tossed to be chilled.
You spun around to grab one last thing out of the bag and collided directly into Juice. Your hands landed on his chest while his grabbed onto your hips to keep you from stumbling further. You let out a nervous laugh, your face instantly getting hot. There was a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. Your entire body was trembling and as much as you wanted to blame it all on the chaos of the day, you knew there was a little more to it than that.
“You good?” his hands slid up your sides as he asked, pushing up the fabric of your shirt.
You swallowed hard, trying to focus on maintaining feeling in your legs as you nodded, “I’m good.”
He could feel the way your body was trembling slightly underneath his fingertips, “You sure?”
Your brain couldn’t come up with a single coherent thought. You were too distracted by the heat radiating from his hands, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms. The day had already been a trip and you figured there was no way that you could really make it all that much worse. So you gave in to the impulsive, needy part of your brain that had been quietly nagging at you all day.
Before you could try to reel yourself in, your lips crashed into his. It must’ve been exactly what he had been expecting, because his arms instantly snaked tightly around your waist and kept your body flush up against his. A quiet moan slipped past your lips as your hands roughly cupped his face, keeping his lips pressed against yours.
Hit bit down on your bottom lip with a quiet moan and the thought crossed your mind that it was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard. You pushed the kutte down off of his shoulders and instantly started to lift his shirt off over his head. He let out a quiet, breathy laugh as he obliged, gripping onto yours to help you do the same.
With no hesitation he scooped you up off the floor and carried you to the bedroom. You let out a gasp as he dropped you onto the bed and instantly began undoing your shorts. You lifted your hips to make it easier for him to slide them down your legs. He smiled as he tossed them aside, along with your underwear. You sat upright and your hands instantly went to work on his belt. You looked up at him for a moment and when you saw the way he was smiling down at you, it became almost impossible to focus on the task at hand.
Despite the distraction, you were rewarded with the sound of his jeans falling to the floor in a denim pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them and back you onto the bed, hands roaming over your body the entire time.
His lips found yours and within moments you felt his tongue running along your bottom lip. He situated himself between your legs as he kissed you, one hand sliding down your stomach and landing between your legs. His fingers traced lightly over your folds and he moaned into your mouth when he felt how wet you already were.
He took his lips off of yours only long enough so that he could position himself at your entrance. He looked up at you, eyes searching yours for the go-ahead to continue. Your hands gripped onto his hips and pulled him into you, causing both of you to moan. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down onto your shoulder as he thrusted into you.
Your nails raked down his back as you lost yourself in the feeling of having him inside of you. His name fell from your lips repeatedly as his body continued to connect with yours. His hands traveled all over you, caressing every inch of exposed skin with a gentleness that didn’t at all match the intensity that he was using to fuck you, but it felt right nonetheless.
You gripped onto his biceps, nails sinking into his tattoo as you felt your orgasm building. You cursed as his pace continued to increase, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pinned you down.
“Fuck,” every muscle in your body tensed as you came. Your hands grabbed and scratched at his back and shoulders for a grip that they couldn’t find.
Juice wasn’t far behind you, quickly pulling out of you a few moments later before he did something he’d regret. He collapsed onto your chest with a deep sigh, hands gently sliding up and down your sides. It was the first time all afternoon that your body stopped trembling. After a few moments of nothing but the sound of your breathing filling the room, you heard Juice let out a quiet laugh.
You looked down at him, “What’s so funny?”
He rested his hands on your chest before placing his chin on them. There was a tiny smirk on his face as he fought to get his breathing evened out again, “Told you this wasn’t a demotion.”
You laughed, shaking your head, “You’re ridiculous.”
“C’mon,” he joked, “you gotta admit that this all could’ve gone so much worse.”
You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face, “I guess so,” you locked eyes with him, “How much longer you think you’ll have to keep an eye on me?”
He laughed, leaning up to place a soft kiss on the side of your neck, “Probably for a long time. Just to be safe.”
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2 Oct. Suptober: No Vacancy
"There were no vacancies for a radius of nearly 25 miles. But I did find one room, finally. I'll text you the address."
"Thanks, Cas." Sam paused. "Have you spoken to Dean today?"
snippetfic; deancas
"Is this what it's like in Norway?" Dean asked, faint horror dripping from every word as he pushed a few cable knit sweaters from one side of a circular rack to the other.
"Sweden," Sam corrected. Off Dean's blank look, he clarified, "The store's from Sweden."
"Well, whatever. Happiest people on earth, my ass." Dean flicked the strings of a gray hoodie on a nearby hanger and sighed. "This place is giving me the heebie jeebies. Everything in here smells like ink."
Sam rehung a shirt the price tag referred to as 'muscle fit band collar' and prayed for strength. "We just need a few new clothes, and this place is closer than the nearest army surplus." And it wasn't like the three-acres large sentient mushroom purportedly threatening citizens two towns away was going anywhere quickly. In theory. 
"There's gotta be a thrift store around here somewhere. Suburb like this? There's probably nine different churches running a yard sale outta their basement."
"We have a gift card, thanks to Donna." Sam shrugged. "May as well use it."
Dean opened his mouth, no doubt to protest again, then spotted something in a far corner. Sam wanted to try on a pair of trousers and he was willing to let Dean work out his aggression towards moderately priced fast fashion by himself for a few minutes. In the cramped, smudged dressing room, Sam decided that maybe Dean was right to be unimpressed. Why did these khakis have elastic bands at the bottom of the legs, like a pair of sweatpants from the 1980s? Why were Sam's bony and pale lower shins so hideous by the glare of fluorescent lighting? 
He was spared further inane inner commentary by his phone bleating in the pocket of the jeans he already owned. "Hey, Cas."
"There are many young athletes in this county." Cas's tinny voice bled frustration. "They are energetic and loud."
"The tournament's over tomorrow."
"That did not help me today." It sounded like Cas was pulling a boulder out of his truck, with more difficulty than an angel should have had. "There were no vacancies for a radius of nearly 25 miles. But I did find one room, finally. I'll text you the address."
"Thanks, Cas." Sam paused. "Have you spoken to Dean today?"
A mirrored pause. "No?" Cas made the word seem multisyllabic.
"Okay." Sam put the terrible trousers back on their plastic hanger. "We'll see you in an hour or so." 
"Wait," Cas said. "Is something wrong with Dean?" 
The concern that radiated from the phone could have powered a nuclear warhead. Sam thought it prudent to keep his smile out of his own voice when he said, "Dean's fine, man. You just left the bunker without telling him you were leaving, is all."
"Oh." Cas was squinting; Sam just knew. "I didn't tell you either, Sam."
Yes, but I'm not butthurt about it, Sam thought. "It's fine, Cas. You found us a case." So far, all the case had really yielded in Sam was a desire to eat pizza loaded with portabellas as soon as he could get his hands on a pie, but Cas didn't need to know that. "No worries."
"All right. I'll see you…when you get here." Cas disconnected.
Sam rubbed a hand over his face to try to remove the exasperation from it. He braced himself for whatever mood he would find Dean in now.
This did not prepare him for how depressed Dean was, still in that one corner of the store, looking at flannel shirts. 
"You can't complain about the selection here," Sam said, nodding at the rack of buffalo plaids. "You own at least four shirts that look just like these."
"I hate this fucking music." Dean rolled his eyes up to the ceiling like he might try to bite one of the speakers embedded between the acoustic tiles. 
The song the ceiling blared, made more grating by a short somewhere in the speaker, was pretty bad, Sam had to concede. Why Dean couldn't just tune it out was a question Sam had no answer for. Perhaps they were no longer fit for mainstream shopping, Sam considered. Perhaps they never had been. A nearby salesclerk frowned at Dean's scowl and hightailed it away from his general grumpiness. 
Sam decided to try his luck with a different pair of trousers, checking the cuffs on them first, and was just about to head back to the dressing room when the disembodied ceiling voice sang, "Used to be that I felt so damn empty. Ever since I met you, no vacancy."
Yeah, okay. Not Sam's cup o' rock-n-roll tea either, he would readily admit. But he glanced over at Dean, and Dean was not grinding his teeth or clenching his jaw or glaring disdainfully. No. Sam saw, with both a pang of sympathy and a generous helping of humor, was that the subpar blah pop lyrics were getting under Dean's skin. 
In the midst of a bunch of mall clothes too trendy for the Winchester boys, Dean Winchester was pining. 
"Cas called," Sam said, casual as a crew neck t-shirt. "He's got a room for us an hour from here."
The transformation Dean underwent in that moment, from despondent Gen Xer disillusioned by consumerist propaganda and the kind of lonesomeness that only afflicted those lonely for a specific person to Man with A Renewed Sense of Purpose, was so instantaneous Sam physically could not keep from laughing.
"What?" Dean said, his expression morphing into a masterpiece of confusion.
"Nothing." Sam let his laugh trail off with a reasonably content, if also defeated, sigh. "I'm trying these on." He hoisted a pair of jeans aloft and headed back to the dressing room. "I like this blue plaid," Dean called out, suddenly the store's biggest fan.
"You should buy it for Cas," Sam called back. "It'd bring out his eyes."
That Dean seemed to be seriously considering the purchase was enough to start Sam smiling again. The dressing room was still unpleasant, but at least he knew the drive to even-more-middle-of-nowhere, Ohio, would be, if nothing else, fast. 
(with apologies to fans of OneRepublic :))
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 3 | S.R.)
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Summary: Spencer decides to return to a previous tryst. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Dom!Spencer, handcuffs, hair pulling, oral, fingering, penetrative sex, rough sex Word Count: 9k
MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist
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It was a Saturday night and I had nothing to do. My roommate had gone home for the weekend and all my other friends were at bars. I could've joined them, but it just didn't seem worth it. The last time had been so perfect, I just couldn't imagine that anything else could compare.
I'd tried going back to the same area a few times, but I never saw him again. Then again, seeing me back there might just piss him off. Then again, that would've been okay, too. He was pretty cute when he was mad.
But I wasn't looking at a cute boy that night. No, I was just sitting in my apartment, staring at the textbook that I wasn't even interested in reading. Wishing that something could save me from the boring limbo I had found myself in.
Then, like magic, my phone stirred to life beside me.
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
I looked down at the LED, fully expecting it to just be someone tagging me in a picture of a cat. But it wasn't. The number was one I had saved in my phone, hoping that I would see it pop up again one day.
It had been almost a month. I didn't think it would ever happen. But there it was; a text message from Dr. Reid himself.
"Hey (y/n)."
When I slid the message open, I saw he was still typing.
"Long time no talk," was his second message.
That was an understatement.
"Hey yourself."
It was a cursory response. I wanted him to sweat a bit. He'd made me wait, so now he had to deal with the consequences. But then I changed my mind and immediately followed with a second text of, "Texting isn't talking you know."
"You never called. Why should I?" His response was so quick I swore he'd planned this all out in his head. He was playing me like a chess board. Bet he was good at that, too.
"It takes two to tango, Dr. Reid," I jokingly replied.
He read the message, but he didn't answer.
Getting nervous that he was losing interest, I continued typing.
"I figured you wouldn't want to see me again after I made you late. Are those marks still there?"
I smiled at the memory, because I knew he wasn't there to call me out for it. By the time he'd finally made it down to his ride, I had covered his neck in petechiae and his back was equally marked with scratches.
I'd wanted him to remember me.
It'd worked, too.
He'd been typing for a while and I was getting anxious. It had been a bold message to send, and I didn't really think it through.
Was he trying to let me down easy? No, that didn't make any sense. Who the fuck texts a one night stand at 10:30 PM on a Saturday after not speaking for a month just to end things?
He responded.
"Sadly, no. And I wouldn't be so quick to assume I don't want to see you because of that... Revenge is a powerful motivator."
That was the cheeky bastard I wanted to see. I could be cheeky, too.
"Is it?" I asked.
"Where are you tonight?"
His answers were starting to make my heart race. I had to get ready, because he was definitely about to ask me to be his booty call and I was definitely going to do it. Closing my textbook, I shot back another teasing reply.
"Not a club. I'm being a good girl tonight. All by my lonesome."
Thank god my roommate wasn't here and I had somehow been bored enough to clean today. I pulled out my make up and turned the light on my mirror on. As I started to apply it, I got a message that immediately solidified my answer to his inevitable proposition.
"Do you want to change that?"
'God, yes, I do.'
I waited another minute, wanting to be able to finish at least the bare minimum before he saw me. I knew he wasn't a superficial guy, but the last time he'd seen me I had gone full out.
"Which part?" I responded, already knowing his answer.
"Both."
So unpredictable in the most satisfying way.
I took a deep breath and a pause, tapping back a confident reply.
"Are you trying to entrap me, Agent?"
His reply was within seconds, and I was immediately reminded of how incredibly clever this man was. He knew exactly what to say to make me melt.
"Is that what you want?"
I wanted to pick up the phone, dial, and scream yes. But I didn't, opting instead for a calm and composed, "That would certainly be exciting."
My application grew significantly quicker, and I was already eyeing the special drawer I had for these exact situations. My mind was running through my collection of sheer fabrics and lace details, trying to decide what would work best.
Then he said the magic words:
"Send me your address."
Spencer was coming over, and it wasn't a dream. I was going to have that strange, brilliant, beautiful man back in my arms and I wasn't going to fuck it up. With shaking hands, I thumbed out my address with no other commentary. In a few seconds, I would know how long I had until Spencer Reid was in my apartment.
"I'll be there in 20 minutes."
Thank god. It was time enough to prepare.
—————————————————
Spencer Reid was going to be at my door at any minute, and I was suddenly terrified that he'd be disappointed. Convinced that I'd done everything wrong.
We'd had a good time before, right? I'd played over and over again in my head ever since it happened. I was reminded of the soft way he'd touched me in the morning, the childish laughs we'd shared, and the smell of his cologne on the sheets.
God, I hoped he wouldn't be disappointed.
Knock Knock Knock.
When I heard the sound, I immediately tried to fix my appearance in the mirror despite having spent the last 20 minutes doing whatever I could given the time. I had opted for one of my easier-to-remove loungewear pieces. A simple white lace negligee. He seemed like he'd like simple. The little hint of purity, however silly, would also probably appeal to him.
Slowly exhaling, I composed myself before opening the door.
"Hello, Dr. Reid."
He looked as handsome as ever, although I did have the distinct impression that it had been awhile since he had a full nights sleep. I wondered why, but decided not to dwell on it. 
"Hello yourself," he responded, his eyes ravaging my figure the very moment I stepped out from behind the door. He waited for me to take a step back and fully open the door before he walked in, and I watched the way he scanned my apartment.
I wondered what he saw.
"How can I help you, Agent?"
It was a tease, and based the look on his face when he finally turned to me, it took him a moment to figure it out. He was too much in his work brain. I could feel it. I'd never seen him at work, but I could tell.
"You seem tense," I spoke coyly, stepping closer and running my hands up his chest and onto his shoulders.
He didn't speak; instead his gaze bored into me, like he was going to lose his composure any second. But he held himself back. 
"Can I help you with that?"
That dark shine in his eyes was getting stronger.
"That depends."
As he spoke the words, he finally touched me, a sneaky hand finding its way to my hip. I gasped at the sensation and my eyes fluttered shut. He always had this immediate intoxicating effect on me that I just couldn't explain. I didn't care to, either. I just wanted to keep feeling it.
"Hmm... On what?" I murmured.
I tried to keep track of his hand as it sneaked to my lower back before pulling me closer. I tilted my head to look up at him as I opened my eyes. I just wanted to see that look again. That starved, possessive stare that made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.
Although he appeared stoic, I knew there was something brewing. I knew that he was reveling in the effect he had on me.
Such a quiet, peculiar mind.
"What do you have in mind?" he asked, and I recognized the question as something deeper.
He was asking me for my limits. He wanted me to tell him what he was allowed to do. I didn't know how to tell him that I would do anything for him.
How could he not already know my answer? Perhaps it was just his attempt at being a gentleman. But I didn't need him to do all of that tonight. I'd much rather see something more... feral.
"Whatever you need," I answered as sweetly as I could. 
I heard his soft chuckle. It brought a smile to both of our lips, and he used his free hand to stroke the side of my face. I quickly leaned into his touch, trying to prolong the contact for as long as I could. 
"Is that so?"
Yes, I thought before saying, "Anything."
His thumb glided over my cheek and to my lips, gently separating them as he stared at me with a morbid curiosity. He was wondering how far he could actually push me. So was I.
In lieu of an answer, I slipped his thumb into my mouth, running my tongue up it before closing around it. The gentle sucking was mixed with soft rotations of my tongue. His breathing rate increased as he stepped forward and pressed his body flush against mine.
"And if you change your mind?"
What a gentleman.
I wouldn't change my mind, but I chose to indulge him with the proper form. I released his thumb and held my mouth open for a second before biting down on my bottom lip.
"Hmmm," I hummed as I thought about what I might be able to say to set him off.
I needed a safe word that would drive him wild. The thing was, I only knew a few of his interests. But I did know enough.
"Starship," I giggled, a little nod to the enterprise we'd already bonded over.
The effect the word had on him was immediate. His hand shifted to hold my chin. He used that grip to push me against the wall to the side of us, and our mouths connected just as harshly.
What a ridiculously sexy nerd.
The impact of my back against the wall was nothing compared to the fire coursing through my veins. My hands scrambled to grab onto his belt buckle, already trying to unwrap the present meant just for me tonight.
Once I'd gotten the metal separated, I smiled into the sloppy, heated kiss. He stopped, pulling away just enough to look down at my satisfied grin. He didn't say anything.
"What's that look for?" I said with half-veiled bashfulness.
Had he noticed something strange that I hadn't intended to display? Was I going too fast?
"Nothing. It's just..."
'Please don't be something I did wrong.'
"You're so cute when you think you're in charge."
I couldn't control the way my hips rolled against the front of him as he spoke, and I licked my lips before concluding, "I am in charge."
I don't know how Spencer was so fast, but he was. Within seconds, he had both of my wrists pinned against the wall behind me. Just as quickly, he shifted so he could hold them both up with one hand, the other lifting the side of negligee so he could touch the skin of my hip. I wasn't wearing anything underneath.
"Adorable," he whispered to me.
Naturally, my body reacted by trying to regain control, to touch him more somehow. He knew this, which is why he took a step back, letting go of my wrists and watching them fall back to my control.
"Are you challenging me, Dr. Reid?"
He gave a content, sarcastic smile before shrugging.
"No, I'm not, actually. It's not a challenge if I already know I'm going to win."
I could barely notice the way I puffed out my own chest in response, ready to give him the challenge he was so clearly begging for.
"Fine."
I put my hands in the air in surrender, turning and strutting my fine ass down the hallway in front of him. I didn't turn around, and I didn't tell him to follow. He would. I was confident in that.
I took a seat on the side of my bed, crossing my legs over the other and looking down at my nails with a bored expression. Before I knew it, he was crossing the threshold into my room. He walked up to me, his hands in his pockets and a voice filled with too much confidence.
"I know what you're doing."
He had something up his sleeve. I could feel it.
"What am I doing, Dr. Reid?"
The way he approached me reminded me of a hunt. The cautious, quiet strides toward me were purposeful. He stopped just in front of me, with my foot resting against his shin.
"I thought I already warned you what would happen if you did this."
"Do what?" I feigned innocence, raising my hand to my neck before perching my chin on it and leaning forward.
"Tease me."
That time when his hand made contact, it was on the top of my head. He ran a gentle hand over my hand, and the feather light touches almost tricked me. I'd almost thought he just wanted to appease me. To end my temper tantrum. But shortly after he had gripped the back of my hair in his hand and used the new grip to roughly tilt my head back to him.
"I thought you said you were going to be a good girl tonight?"
I bit down harshly on my lip to stifle my giggle as he tightened his grip.
"Oops," I said with a smile.
Suppressing my laughs enough to string together a sentence, I pressed my hands against his chest while he maintained his grip on my hair.
"I guess if you really want me to be a good girl, Dr. Reid... You'll have to make me."
That instruction was what I needed to break the man in front of me. It was the command he'd been waiting for; the bait for him to finally take what he came for.
Before I knew it, he had spun me around. He abruptly yanked my arms behind me at the same time he bent me over the side of the bed. An unfamiliar, harsh, and fucking freezing material on my wrists told me all I needed to know. The clanking of the short chain when he released my hands was music to my ears.
That beautiful son of a bitch actually brought his handcuffs.
"At least one of us follows orders," I joked, happily remaining on display for the man behind me.
I'm sure he noticed earlier that there wasn't anything blocking him from taking what he wanted underneath the negligee. But he didn't take it. Instead, he pulled me up by the chain, letting me teeter onto my feet before he twirled me back to face him.
"Get ready to learn."
Spencer slowly began removing his tie from his neck while he watched me squirm. His threat raised the tension in the room, but he gave me no clue as to what he was about to make me do.
I couldn't wait.
Once he had removed his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt. It was infuriating not being able to touch him, and I was quickly becoming impatient. It was shocking that it somehow wasn't awkward. I guess I just liked him that much. My thighs were pressed together, and the friction from rubbing them back and forth was the only stimulation I could find right now.
He raised his eyebrows as he noticed, shooting me a warning glance that I knew meant to stop. I did, but only because I was worried he would make me wait even longer if I didn't.
"Get on your knees."
I swayed back and forth, prying my hands apart to shake the chain holding my hands back.
"I can't," I said with a pout.
Spencer seemed to be entertained, and for a moment I thought he might give in.
He leaned over, a quiet breath in my ear as he gave a few words of caution.
"Get on your knees or I will bend you over mine."
My legs shook at the way his breath felt on my ear, and the words made me want to melt. As always, he knew exactly how to get me to do what he wanted.
Deciding that I didn't want to be a full on brat right off the bat, I gradually lowered down to my knees and threw him yet another pout from my new position.
"I want to touch you," I whined before tugging at the chain again.
He must have known it was a test. I had been so open to the hand cuffs being on before, and I still was. I just wanted to see how much power my pout had. Judging from his response, my puppy dog eyes didn't have very much power at all.
"You don't need your hands for that."
In a twisted sort of way, I was glad. I wanted him to do whatever he needed. I wanted to be what he needed. I would be the fight he could always win.
So, when he finally pulled his pants down and let them fall to the ground in front of me, I leaned forward to reach him.
I was quickly stopped by stern hand fisting my hair once more, leaving me hanging in front of him with nothing fun to show for it. He didn't say anything, just watching me as I returned soft whines and rubbing my legs together again.
"For a brat, you're very eager. You don't even realize you're challenging my authority, do you?"
Per usual, he was right. Even on my knees and handcuffed before him, I was trying to take back my control. He at least offered me the control over my neck again, though. He released my hair, smoothing it over the top of my head as he licked his lips. I couldn't take my eyes off them.
"Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I should just let you beg."
I bounced on my knees, trying to express what I wanted without resorting to outright begging. Not yet.
"I'll listen to you, I promise." 
"Good," he acknowledged. "Open your mouth."
I obeyed, as I'd just said I would, opening my mouth wide with my tongue forward to receive him. As he pushed into my mouth, he would only give me a couple inches before retreating. He continued this pattern until he had gotten over half of it into my mouth.
That time, he paused, granting me a pleased groan as he let his head fall back. I responded in earnest, continuing to move forward as my tongue swiped over whatever it could reach. When I pulled back, I barely released any of him before going even further forward. I looked up at his face to see if he was impressed.
He was.
Shortly after, I choked as he hit the back of my throat. I receded enough to take a deep breath through my nose. I wished I could use my hands, but I appreciated the novelty of the cuffs for at least this one time.
I swore he heard my thoughts. Because after I finished my breath, his hands found the back of my head and pulled me even further onto him. If my hands were busy, he would just use his own.
That time as I choked, I swallowed. I could feel him slip further down my throat, blocking the air supply just for a second. When he pulled me back, I knew this was just the beginning.
Once he knew what I was capable of, he was ready to take control for good.
Sure enough, he set a moderate pace of thrusting into my throat, keeping direct eye contact with me as he did so. I paid all my attention on making sure I timed my breath, feeling tears prick the inside of my eyes as I let him take over.
He was so beautiful like this. I thought about what it must be like for him at his job, that I was the first thing he came to. I decided right then, that he would never feel powerless with me. I would be anything he needed.
Suddenly, his pace slowed down, eventually coming to a stop. He slipped himself out of my mouth, and the strings of spit snapped onto my chin. I couldn't do anything to stop the running make up or saliva with both of my hands behind my back.
I was certain I looked like an absolute mess. My knees were weak from the position, and Spencer had never looked so pleased. Bending over, he grabbed me under my arms and helped haul me  up onto the bed.
His hands casually wiped the tears from my cheeks, and he used the back of his hand to clean the area around my mouth.
"You are so beautiful," he uttered.
'Oh my god, I think I might love him.'
"You're not bad yourself," I croaked, my voice hoarse from what we'd just done.
"Tell me what you want," he dared me, his hand dropping from my hand down to my lap.
"Whatever you want."
It was the answer I had already promised him. I'd meant it before, and I'd meant it then.
He had still maintained eye contact, staring directly into my soul as he slipped his hand between my thighs. The lack of underwear made his job so much simpler, and I was thanking myself for not putting another barrier between the two of us.
Because as much as I wanted to be patient for him, I was growing desperate. Which is why when he finally touched me, his finger slid into my heat with ease. The slickness that had pooled was more than even I expected from the complete lack of stimulation I had received.
His finger wasn't there for long. He briskly removed it and held it up to my face before rubbing them together. He smiled as I struggled to breathe through the teasing.
"I've barely touched you... And yet..." he taunted, causing me to roll my hips, trying to get to something wholly out of my reach.
I was ready to start begging.
"Please, Spencer."
"Please what? Use your words."
He was loving it. He knew damn well that I had absolutely no control over what I wanted. I couldn't grab him, and I couldn't touch myself. All I could do was beg.
"Fuck me. Please."
It was as straightforward as I could possibly be.
"Still so impatient... so needy," he laughed, his hand returning to its place between my thighs.
I wailed as he began thumbing my clit. It was mind-numbing. He knew that I desperately wanted to be filled, and he was doing the exact opposite.
"Yes," I panted. "I need you. I need you to fuck me. Please."
Spencer didn't stop, continuing to stroke the bundle of nerves with quick, repetitive motions.
"Not yet, little girl," he growled in my ear.
It didn't take long for my cries to pick up, my hips rocking furiously as he drove me into my first orgasm. A steady flow of pants and cries were mixed with mangled attempts to call his name. He still didn't stop, refusing to touch me anywhere but the one spot until I finally ceased shaking.
I almost fell backwards, but he caught me with an arm around the waist. I could barely see straight, and ever such a gentleman, he held my delirious body upright for a moment. I could tell he was wondering if I was alright.
The concern mixed with overwhelming desire was too much. Even as he tortured me with pleasure, I could see what an incredibly kind man he was.
That was the only way this would work, I thought. I had to trust him. And I did. I trusted him with my life.
"Tell me what you want," he uttered, offering me a guilt-free retreat that I would not take.
"You," I purred. "I want you, Spencer."
Finally allowing himself to give in to both of our desires, Spencer turned me onto my stomach one more time. When I heard the crumpling noise of foil as he tore the condom wrapper open, I raised my hips into the air. I stood on my tip toes and rested my head and chest against the bed.
He didn't say anything else, lazily rubbing the head against my sex. A trembling, relieved sigh escaped my lips as I felt him breach my opening. He took his time inching into me, savoring the way I clenched around him as he stretched me open. I wished I could see the look on his face, but I could barely keep my eyes open as the rapture overtook me.
Once he was fully in me, he paused, grabbing hold of my locked wrists as yet another reminder that he was the one in charge. I
wasn't going to fight him if he kept it up, that was for sure.
Almost pulling himself entirely out, he jerked me back at the same time that he snapped his hips forward and bottomed out inside me. I yelled out at the sensation, which clearly urged him on. His pace went from composed to frenetic in a matter of seconds, and each time he would slam into me, I couldn't stop the loud moans and cries from spilling out of my mouth.
He didn't let them dissuade him. I was pretty sure that he very much enjoyed the fact that I couldn't control myself. That he was the one doing that to me. But, in typical, sympathetic Spencer fashion, he leaned over me from behind and wrapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the noises.
Didn't want to alert anyone of what was happening behind closed doors, after all.
I could barely breathe as he fucked me into the bed, my feet lifting off the ground from the sheer force he used in each thrust. I let him take out all his pent up frustration on me, enjoying the harsh sting as his skin slapped against mine.
I wasn't going to last much longer. We both knew that we were riding dangerously close to the edge. As much as I didn't want it to end, I was ready to fall off that cliff with him.
His thrusts became jagged and stunted, and my thighs tensed tightly together. I chanted his name into his hand, unable to control myself as I felt my muscles flutter around his cock, urging him to finish with me. He happily obliged, pulling me roughly back to him one more time. Our hips violently collided and he held me down as far as he could onto him before emptying himself into the latex.
I could feel the soft twitching of his cock, and I started to wonder things you're not supposed to wonder about a booty call. I'd come back to that later.
A booty call. A one-night-stand.
Were we still just that? I wasn't going to ask... yet.
It felt so cold when he peeled himself off my back and slowly removed all of himself from me. I whined at the friction following the overstimulation. My legs shook terribly as my feet scrambled to touch the floor.
I couldn't see him, but I heard him throwing the condom in the trash before going through his clothes. Soon after, his hands were gingerly repositioning mine, granting him access to remove the cuffs. Once he'd slipped them off, I realized just how numb my arms had gone. They flopped uselessly to my sides, and I struggled to move my fingers.
Spencer's arms were around me before I knew what was going on. Delicately, he turned me onto my back despite my protesting groans. His touch was so gentle in a way I can't explain. He was acting like I would shatter at his fingertips.
"Wait here," he spoke in a hushed voice, placing a gentle kiss against my cheek.
I would wait anywhere for him.
While I did just that, I moved just enough that my entire body was on the bed. I inched up to the pillows and waited to regain my strength. My wrists were irritated and dented, but I couldn't really care. If anything, it would serve as proof that this night wasn't just a wild fever dream.
I saw Spencer out of the corner of my eyes, carrying an assortment of items that I couldn't help but laugh at.
"I come bearing gifts," he snickered before gracelessly dropping two bottles of Gatorade, a bottle of Advil, and lotion onto my bed.
"My hero," I spoke through the daze as I watched him pull his underwear back on. Understanding that the Advil was to stop my wrists from hurting, I took a couple quickly before I couldn't help but snicker at the sight before me.
"Awwe. I like the way you look without them, though," I teased, motioning to bottom half. "You have a cute butt."
He just chuckled, sitting down next to me and pumping lotion into a hand before motioning for me to give him my wrist.
I turned onto my side and presented him with my hand. Once he started to work the tired, abused muscles, I watched his face. The way he carefully admired the muscles while he worked, like he was trying to rebuild my wrist to the way he found it. He was so careful.
After a few moments, he held out his hand to switch, to which I also obliged.
I muttered a soft, "Thank you."
He only gave me a fleeting glance before returning to our hands.
"It's the least I can do. After what you let me do."
It was a bit of a joke, but also very genuine. He didn't call it aftercare, but that's what this was. I was familiar with it.
He was good at it.
Once he was satisfied that my wrists were going to be okay, he turned to his side to look at me. I looked up at him and wondered if he noticed that I saw the world in his eyes. I wondered if he could sense the overwhelming joy that flowed between us. I wondered if it was just in my mind that it was going both ways.
"I hope you know that I really do appreciate you," he said with a surprisingly serious tone.
My heart fluttered in my chest in a very inappropriate manner.
"Is there anything you need from me?" he asked.
Yes, I wanted to answer. Everything.
I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn't.
This doesn't mean anything, I reminded myself. He was just doing what he had to.
"No," I lied, instead. 
I think he knew I was lying. Of course he knew. Nonetheless, he draped an arm over me and scooted closer to me until my head rested against his arm. He gave my forehead a chaste kiss, and moved his fingers unhurriedly against the bare skin of my back.
I could've fallen asleep just like that, but I didn't want to. I wanted to feel that close to him forever. The freedom and happiness flowing through me was so intoxicating that I'd started to think about my previous thoughts I had during sex.
He was about that age men started to want kids and...
"Do you want kids, Spencer?"
'Oh, fuck, did I say that out loud?'
He looked as surprised as me to hear the question, and for a moment his hands stopped clean in their tracks.
'Oh no.'
"Uhh," He cleared his throat, "Yeah, I do. Wh-Why do you ask?"
Although he continued to drag his fingers across my back, it was different now. He was suddenly much more distant. Because seriously, why the hell would he not? We barely knew each other, and I definitely sounded like a crazy person.
"I was just wondering. You're good at taking care of people."
It was true. If he noticed I was covering my ass, he didn't say anything about it. Thank god.
"I'm not actually too sure about that. Right now you just think I'm good at it because your body is coursing with endorphins and adrenaline. The chemical process of love is extremely finicky and easily mimicked. Especially post-orgasm. Once that goes away, you might find you feel differently about me."
I doubted it.
Still, I shifted away from him, backing up so I could see his face again.
He continued, "You know, almost half of women surveyed said they felt anxiety and overwhelming sadness after sex. They even coined a term for it, aside from the typical sub-drop discussed in communities of more extreme sex. 'Post-coital dysphoria.' It's a shame really, that the idea of reassurance after sex isn't more mainstream."
Sometimes it was easy for me to forget he was some kind of genius. I always saw him at his most confident, which happened to also be his most quiet. As he taught me about things that I definitely should have been taught in high school sex education (but was not), I was not filled with anxiety or sadness.
In fact, I was happy.
I didn't really know him that well yet, but I wanted to.
"I can see why people mistake sex for love sometimes, then," I mumbled, not realizing the weight behind my words. It seemed obvious to me in the moment that he wouldn't think I was talking about us.
But then he pulled his hand back, running it through his hair and clearing his throat again.
"Yeah," he agreed, nonetheless, "It's pretty common."
I took a deep breath, panicking on how to pull him back to me. I lightly stretched, shifting to sit up and put some literal distance between us before the figurative distance was too far.
"Well, no worries here, Dr. Reid. I can confidently say I am not in love with you."
I could feel his eyes following me. I said I was confident, because I was. I was not in love with him.
Was I falling in love with him? It was a different question. I didn't know the answer to that one.
I excused myself for a moment to go to the bathroom and freak out in isolation. I could not believe I was somehow incapable of controlling my words around him. He just had this face that made you want to spill your heart out to him.
Did he know that? Whatever. It was easier to blame him for being so damn cute.
When I made it back to the bed, he was already half-asleep. He looked so peaceful and unassuming compared to the dominating personality I had seen not even ten minutes ago. As quietly as I could, I sneaked into my side of the bed. He began to stir, so I came up behind him and wrapped an arm over his waist.
"You know, they say it's dangerous to stay the night after a one-night-stand," I whispered, resting my face on his shoulder. "People might get attached."
"Technically this would be a two night-stand, so I don't think the same rules apply," he grumbled before placing his hand over mine on his stomach.
"Well, if you really  want to get technical, we are a one-night-stand plus a booty call," I corrected, earning a playful scoff from the man beside me.
"Pretty sure those are mutually exclusive."
I tried to repeat to myself that he was just trying to be nice. He was doing what all people are supposed  to do after sex. It didn't mean anything, I tried to convince myself.
It didn't mean anything.
"You're right."
I still tried to convince myself. It still wasn't working.
Fuck it.
"We could be something more. If you want to," I suggested. I'd sounded absolutely bored by the idea on purpose, but it still hadn't been enough to convince him that I wasn't out here proposing marriage to a fucking bootycall. 
His entire body tensed under my touch, like my words had inflicted pain. From my position half on top of him I felt his chest stop moving as he held his breath.
I shouldn't have said it. It was easy to say that in hindsight. But the truth was, I wasn't the only one blaring sirens of my growing attached to the kindhearted man who'd just massaged my wrists. Spencer had always been the one to be blatantly affectionate with me. It was him who had wanted to make this a recurring habit in the first place.
He was the one that always chose to stay the night. He was the one who initiated it. It wasn't just me who wanted something more, but he had to be a stupid, proud man like the rest of them.
"(Y/n) I—"
I knew that tone. I'd heard it before. He was going to tell me he couldn't be with me. We couldn't 'date,' or whatever he'd convinced himself the mature version was of the juvenile phrase.
But I already knew that. He was a fucking FBI agent and he was 10 years older than me. I barely knew anything about him. Had he ever even had a girlfriend? Did he have one now? I didn't even know, and that wasn't what I'd asked. 
Still, he was struggling to come up with a way to let me down easy, and I didn't want to hear it. It was going to be a lie, anyway. So, I covered his mouth with my hand and stopped him before he ended things for good.
"Friends, Spencer. I meant we can be friends."
Suddenly, we could both breathe again.
"I'd like that."
The tension melted from the room, but only so much. There was still a wall between us. I wasn't sure if it'd ever go away, but that was a problem for another day. 
"Me too," I lied.
I didn't want to be friends. I was scared what 'friends' meant. I was nervous that what I'd done was give him an out to never talk to me again. I was petrified that he'd lose the ability to see me as anything more than a collection of mistakes he'd made.
I didn't tell him any of that. If he noticed, which I'm positive he did, he didn't say anything about it. I was sure he wouldn't. Because even though he was about to shut me down, I knew part of him was craving the intimacy I was willing to offer him. I figured I'd just have to do it quietly for the time being. Wouldn't be the first time a woman took responsibility for a man's feelings.
At least the sex was worth it.
I tried to pretend like that's all it was. After a minute of listening to his heart beating rhythmically underneath me, though, he rolled over once more. Unable to leave him behind just yet, I joined him. I turned so he could pull me as close to him as he wanted.
There was never a barrier between us when the words were removed. My body fit next to his like it had been molded for that purpose. I curled into the warmth and I savored the quiet moments that I was convinced could never come often enough.
As I drifted off into sleep in his arms, our legs tangled together like we were part of the same two headed beast.
My last thought of the night was the one I'd been trying to avoid.
I don't want to be friends, because friends don't do this.
—————————————————  
Waking up next to Spencer in my bed that morning was somehow even more ethereal than before. Although I'd shifted several times in my sleep, he'd found me in the darkness each time so that he could cling to me again.
I didn't want to move. I was worried I would wake him and we'd return to our previous lives like this had never happened. I thought back to how tired he had looked when he first got here. I still wasn't totally certain what a profiler is, but the haunted look in his eyes and the tension in his muscles told me it wasn't easy.
I ghosted my fingers over his hand splayed out on my stomach, and the touch only served to make him pull me closer to him.
He was like a child with his favorite toy, desperately seeking out the comfort only I could provide him. I continued to run my hands along his, eventually going up his arm and quietly giggling at the goosebumps that formed. I didn't want him to wake up, but I also didn't want him to be awoken with another notice that he had to leave.
I wondered what the morning would be like without a time limit.
When Spencer began to stir, the first thing he did was bury his face between my shoulder and neck. I giggled at the tickling sensation of his breath, and he responded by peppering the area with short, light kisses.
It was my favorite way to say good morning.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," I said through the laughter. 
He didn't speak, just humming back contentedly as his kisses became more involved.
"Now who's the needy one?" I teased, tilting my head to grant him more access.
"Still you," he sighed against my skin.
"You know what I really need?" I began, starting the impossible task of turning onto my back while he refused to let go of his hold on me. "Coffee."
I couldn't help but laugh at the playful groan he released in response. He clearly agreed, and even followed the joyful sound with, "And they say the perfect woman doesn't exist."
It didn't mean anything, I warned my heart as it began to race. It was just a joke.
"Well, I didn't for the first ten years of your life. But don't worry, Dr. Reid. You have me now."
The brag, paired with the reminder of our age gap, earned me my release from his embrace. I was sad to lose it, but I'd also been scared of the effect it had on me.
"Your humility is my favorite part," he said in jest as he watched me squirm out from under his arm.
I stuck out my tongue, and he spoke again.
"Wait, never mind. I forgot about that part. That's my favorite part."
My face burned as I sucked it back in before pouting and climbing out of the bed. Grateful that I still had on my negligee, I stopped to pick up his clothes and tossed them onto the bed.
"Come on, lazy bones. I don't know how you like your coffee."
He just smiled, that gentle yet goofy look that told me he was enjoying himself. I didn't stay to watch him get dressed, deciding he deserved his privacy, despite the fact that I had shoved his dick down my throat the night before.
When he got to the kitchen, the pot was already on. I was leaning forward against the counter, half asleep on my propped up hand. He didn't take a seat at the table. He positioned himself directly behind me and wrapped an arm around my chest.
The man just couldn't keep his hands to himself. I wasn't complaining.
He slipped a hand beneath the front of my negligee, becoming more daring as he gently kneaded my breast and his mouth continued to mark my neck.
"What did I do to deserve all this attention now, Dr. Reid?"
It was a serious question. I had literally just been standing there. I had just woken up. I hadn't even cleaned my face.
"Nothing. You just exist."
I both chuckled and scoffed at the answer. So much for not wanting things to be emotional. Being the more responsible of the two of us, I focused on the way his tongue devilishly drew different sounds from me.
He suckled gently on the side of my neck, and his fingers began to tweak my nipple. A moan was ripped from the back of my throat as I jutted my hips backwards against him.
"God, when you react like that I can't help but think you want me to fuck you over this counter."
He was right. I did. Men weren't the only ones who had to deal with illicit thoughts in the morning. I figured he knew as much.
"Please," I begged, moving my arms so I could brace myself against the ceramic.
"Only because you asked nicely."
He withdrew from my neck. I heard as he drew familiar, crinkly foil from his pocket and I giggled at the anticipation. At the knowledge that he'd clearly pulled one from his wallet before he ever left the bedroom.
Soon enough, his fingers were trailing up my inner thighs, quickly encountering my very wet center that was still affected by the night before. Upon realizing I didn't need any preparation, he skipped it entirely. Slowly and with purpose, he slipped inside of me. I let out another loud moan as he filled my sore heat.
"Fuck," I heard him mutter under his breath.
I loved to know he couldn't entirely control himself with me. I wanted to know how I made him feel. It wasn't like the other times. There was no battle for dominance; I submitted to him immediately and freely. He was not rushed or driven by high emotions. His thrusts were slow, deep, and intimate. One of his hands returned to my chest, paying special attention to the breast that had been ignored before.
I leaned forward into his hand, my back arching to provide him with whatever relief he was looking for inside me. I panted out his name as my own version of a Sunday morning prayer.
It went on like that for a while. He took his time with me, like he was memorizing each nook and crevice he could reach. My legs were beginning to shake from his intrusion and also from my impending orgasm.
"Spencer..." I whispered his name differently this time, and his hands withdrew. I whimpered at the loss. But my disappointment was short lived, as his hand found its way down to where our bodies met. I gasped at the contact.
"What, (y/n)?" he asked with the utmost concern, beginning to make soft circles around my clit while he continued to fuck me from behind.
"I-I'm going to..."
I couldn't finish my sentence, collapsing forward as the stimulation became too much to bare. As it usually did, his other hand grabbed hold of my hair, clutching it tightly to pull me back up to him.
"Then do it."
His statement was a demand, but also its own beg. He wanted to feel me finish before him. I couldn't fight it even if I wanted to. The way he commanded control of my body was a force that could not be ignored. The ever tightening coil inside of me snapped, causing twitches and spasms to rack my body.  My mouth tried to call his name, but my voice didn't come out.
I tried to grip the ceramic when he began to pick up his pace, fucking me harder as my orgasm went on. I knew how much he loved to feel me come undone from the inside. But he held on, continuing his brutal pace until even after I had devolved into a panting, dripping mess underneath him.
My soft mewls from the sensation of being fucked through peaked bliss were still not enough.
"What do you want, little girl?" he growled in my ear as he leaned forward, somehow thrusting harder. Another moan was bubbling up my throat as my feet left the ground with each impact.
"I want... I want you to cum. Inside me."
It was a beg laced with pants and high pitched whines. It was what he wanted to hear.
He grabbed one of my hands, guiding it to my lower abdomen and holding it there. I didn't realize why until the next thrust, when I felt a bump form as he moved within me. I hadn't even considered how deep within me he was. He was showing me how much of me belonged to him.
I'd already known, but the reminder was nice. 
With a few more rough, deep thrusts, he had buried himself inside of me, and I could feel it against my hand. From within me I could feel him spilling into the condom.
I remembered my question about children. I remembered his answer.
That beautiful, sneaky bastard was imagining what it would be like to make me pregnant, whether or not he would admit it. I had put the thought in his mind. I just wasn't expecting it to have that profound of effect on him. I was more turned on by that than I'd like to admit.
I had said that I'd do anything for him.
He didn't say anything else. He released my hair and pulled out of me. He left me to prop myself up on the counter the best I could while my body trembled from the loss. 
At some point, the coffee pot had finished. I figured there were worse ways to pass the time.
Spencer was gone when I turned around. I figured he had gone to the bathroom to clean up, and I tried not to think anything of it. I poured two cups of coffee and pulled out the cream and sugar.
When he came back, he'd come with his phone. He sat down at the table and silently read through messages from the past hours he spent with me. I watched him prepare his drink, immediately downing some of the contents despite its temperature.
"Good lord, do you even have feeling in your throat?" I asked, laughing as I continued to stir my cup.
"Interesting you would be the one to ask me that. After last night, I wondered the same about you."
Touché.
"Did you get any interesting messages? Is the ever-so-busy Special Agent Dr. Reid going to be whisked away from me without a proper goodbye again?"
The words were laced with only a little bit of bitterness. He ignored it.
"I don't know if I would classify our goodbye last time as improper. At least, not in the sense you're using the term."
He was avoiding an answer. I figured he had to go. Or, well, he wanted to.
That's fine, I told myself. He can go. Even though I didn't want him to.
I watched him, the way he continued to nurse his drink with one hand and look at his phone with the other. I tried to suppress the hearts forming in my eyes.
"When will I get to see you again?" I asked, my tone full of trepidation.
"I'm not sure," was his honest answer, given without ever looking up at me.
"We should do something fun."
That made him look up, with a sly grin forming on his face.
"Not like that, you perverted old man," I laughed.
He raised his eyebrows, choosing not to reply outright to my taunt just yet.
"As much fun as we have in bedrooms, I don't know much about you. I'd like to change that," I explained. 
He watched me carefully, his eyes shifting away as he began to overthink it. I could see the cogs of paranoia turning in his mind. I think even he knew he was being sort of ridiculous.
"As friends, Spencer," I reminded with a gentle smile. "Let's do something fun. As friends."
The reserved half smile he gave would be good enough for me.
"Sure," he conceded, which filled me with a bubbly happiness I tried (and failed) to conceal. "I do have to go now, though. If for no other reason than wanting to change."
An understandable concern. I was fine with him leaving if I knew I would see him again this time. But still, something about him leaving so soon hurt a deeper part of me. I wondered if it was that dysphoria he was talking about, but decided not to question it, lest he tell me it was something more worrisome. Something like infatuation. 
I nodded, leaving my coffee on the table as I took his already empty cup. He stood up, waiting for me to return before the both of us walked over to the door. Something about his hesitation resonated in me. My puppy dog eyes were out in full force as I stared up at him.
I wasn't able to smile as he left.
"I'll see you again soon. As soon as I can," he assured me.
I wanted to believe him, but I hated that I didn't know when that would be.
He reached a hand down, brushing loose hairs from my face and commanding my attention that I so readily gave. 
"Don't look so sad," he instructed. "It makes it hard to leave."
My chest swelled with anxiety and adoration. I wasn't sure how to combat it. I hugged myself with one arm, and Spencer shook his head with a laugh.
"Still not following directions."
He didn't seem to mind all that much, though. He leaned forward and cupped my face in his hand. Our lips pressed against each other with a tenderness that made my head spin. We kissed each other in a way that was carelessly romantic.
When he pulled away, he stared into my eyes for a second too long. And when he waved goodbye and walked out of my door, I couldn't get the thought out of my mind.
Friends don't do this.
—————————————————  
| Part 4 |
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road less travelled - m. tkachuk
I was throwing together a list of ideas yesterday, and this one stuck out to me for some reason. So I started writing, thankfully had a pretty free weekend, and finished today! It was a fun piece to right, I hope you all enjoy it! As always, I read all my tags, so reblogs are a writer’s best friend! You’re also more than welcome to come into my inbox and yell at me if that’s more your speed.
word count: 4.5k+
March 18 (thurs)
Elsie couldn’t believe she had gotten herself in this situation again. Every time she woke up in his bed she swore it was the last time, but one drunken mistake turned into another, which turned into a threepeat, and now she wasn’t so sure it had been a mistake in the first place. There was just something about Matthew Tkachuk, something so intoxicating that she was able to ignore the every fiber of her being that was screaming at her to stop this, stop things before it turned sour. Stop it before her brother found out. 
It had been easy enough to keep things from Johnny when they first started hooking up; they’d meet at a crowded bar, somewhere where the cover of anonymity was all but guaranteed, or a late-night text, a few words by the other communicating everything they needed to know. He was lonely. And Elsie Gaudreau was the only one who could help. It had been easy enough to keep things from Johnny at the start, but then they started texting before 11 PM, and then they decided they were exclusive, and then, Matty decided that it was about time that they put a label on it. And suddenly it wasn’t so easy to keep their secret anymore. 
The team knew that he was seeing someone, but much to everyone’s surprise, he had said precious little about their relationship. He called her Leigh in the locker room, or out with the boys — her grandmother’s middle name, one he felt toed the line as well as possible between complete fabrication and some semblance of the truth — and they knew the couple had been together for a few months, that she made him laugh, and that he was more into her than they had seen him act with anyone in recent memory. She didn’t come to events because she was shy, Matthew said, and he didn’t want to subject her to the kind of spotlight he knew she might be scrutinized under the moment they went public. He wasn’t lying when he said she’d been to games — Elsie usually made it to a few a month, usually on Johnny’s invitation — but left out the part where she wore the number 13 in the stands instead of 19, or where she caught a ride home with her brother after media availability instead of her boyfriend, the man she’d been sleeping with for the past five months. 
“Leaving already?” Matty mumbled, slinging one arm over her waist as Elsie tried to sit up. 
She twisted over, kissing him softly. His stubble tickled her cheek. “Got class, remember?” Of course he remembered. Class was the whole reason she was in Alberta; most of it, at least. She had done her undergrad in astrophysics at Wellesley in Massachusetts, and when the time had come for her to decide where to do her graduate studies, Johnny had been all too quick to offer up Calgary. “It’s a great program!” he had said. And it was, but Elsie also had her doubts that her brother knew much about astronomy beyond the ability to find the Great Dipper on a clear day. They had always been close, even when he went to go play in Dubuque when she was 13, but their time together had naturally been more than a little limited ever since he turned pro. So when the opportunity arose for them to be in the same city full-time for the first time in a decade, he was jumping at the prospect of being able to look after his younger sister again. And, especially after he offered to pay her tuition, she wasn’t about to say no. International fees didn’t come cheap. 
Matty groaned, pawing at her hand as she got up from the bed, throwing the covers back over him. “Do you have to go?” he whined. 
Elsie rolled her eyes. “It’s an 8 AM, and it’s,” she glanced at her watch, “already 7. I’d love to stay in bed with you, babe, but I’ve still got to eat and get dressed and grab all my stuff. Plus, it’s at least fifteen minutes to drive and find a place to park, so I’ve got to build that in too.”
“I still think it’s dumb that they make you pay to park at your own school. You’re already paying tuition, plus you TA that one course, so it’s not like you’re doing nothing for them,” he said.
“It’s dumb,” she agreed.
Matthew clicked his tongue. “It’s highway robbery, is what it is, Els.”
She laughed, bending over the bed to run a hand through his curls. She loved those curls. “Be that as it may, Matty dear, I’ve still got to get there on time. Experimental space physics waits for no man.” 
He pouted. “Fine.”
Elsie shot him a sympathetic look. “I’ll try to swing by after my classes let out, how does that sound?”
“Can’t. Johnny and some of the guys are going to be over after morning skate, we’re going out to lunch then they’re coming back here. I’ll call you if they don’t stay too late?” he proposed, looking over at her. 
She gave a tight smile. “Works for me.”
---
Matthew couldn’t believe he had managed to keep things from Johnny for as long as he had. As pretty much anyone could tell you, he was the world’s worst secret-keeper off the ice, and even more so when it came to his friends. And every time Johnny would lean over to him in the locker room, showing him a picture Elsie had posted on Instagram, or recount a story from the intro astronomy class she TA’d, he had to bite his lip and pretend like he hadn’t been the one to take the picture, or he hadn’t been the first to hear about the kid who didn’t believe you couldn’t see the Southern Cross from Alberta. As much as Matthew hated it, he knew that part of what made his relationship with Elsie so exhilarating was the illicit nature of the whole thing. Something about sneaking around with your best friend’s little sister made everything that much more exciting. 
The first time they hooked up hadn’t been a mistake, but it hadn’t been planned in any possible sense of the word. Elsie had moved to Calgary in August, a few weeks before everyone had stated trickling back into Alberta for training camp. Matthew was pretty sure it was mostly Johnny not wanting her to only be surrounded by “space nerds” — his words, not Matty’s, because while he had endless admiration for his sister’s dedication and academic skill, he understood approximateky 0.2% of what she was studying — all day, so by late September or so, she had established herself as a core member of the Flames’ “going-out” group. Which led to one particular night at a bar in October, with Johnny having already headed home thanks to an early breakfast with his fiancée and most of the rest of the group leaving around midnight. And it was a Friday, so Elsie had let herself have a few more drinks than usual; the team didn’t have practice until noon, so Matthew let himself shrug off any worry of a hangover. And Matty and Elsie already knew each other, so they got to talking, then they got to drinking, then they got to kissing. And then Elsie cancelled her Uber to get into Matthew’s, and before she knew it they were stumbling through his doorway, her fingers tangled in his curls and her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked her back to his bedroom.
There were a few people who knew the truth, and only a few people. Matthew had Brady and his mom. His logic being, as soon as Brady knew he was even vaguely interested in someone, he never took no for an answer and would have annoyed her name out of him regardless of whether or not he was being particularly forthcoming with any personal information. His mom because if he needed any advice, if he needed someone to turn to that wasn’t the incredibly vague commentary he gave the boys in the locker room, he wanted to have someone there who wouldn’t judge him and would have his best interests at heart. Okay, scratch that. Chantal definitely judged him, lifting her eyebrows over FaceTime as he called to break the news. She knew Elsie from the one trip with Johnny she’d made out to St. Louis and the times the Tkachuks had travelled up to Canada to visit the boys, and as much as she told Matthew that keeping it a secret was just about the worst thing he could do to his friend, she couldn’t say she was exactly surprised he had fallen for Elsie. 
Elsie had Ines, her best friend from college. It was easier with her, much more straightforward with a lot fewer of the conflicts of interest she felt she got with talking with anyone in the “hockey world.” Ines knew hockey, she obviously had met Johnny and some of the other boys before. Wellesley was only a twenty-five minute drive away from the Boston city center, so the one time a year the Bruins played Calgary at home she’d go with Elsie. But Ines was compassionate, objective, and one of the smartest people Elsie had ever met in her life. She didn’t have any stake in the matter that wasn’t named Elsie Gaudreau, and she wasn’t about to mince her words because she was afraid of what Matty — or Johnny for that matter — would think. So there were people who knew, but the list was very short and, at least for the time being, they wanted to keep it that way.
For anyone on the outside looking in, who didn’t know them as well, they might have said that it was a long time coming. “It” being Matthew and Elsie’s relationship. And, if she was being honest, Elsie might have agreed. She knew Matty since he joined the team; he and her brother were thick as thieves from the beginning, and he’d visited them on the East Coast pretty much every summer since his rookie year. Visited Johnny. Not her. Johnny had made it crystal-clear from the beginning that under no circumstances was their relationship ever allowed to proceed beyond friendly. 
And it didn’t. For four years, almost, it didn’t. Sure, Elsie may have carried a torch for him from the moment they were introduced, but she was far too concerned about Matty’s physical and mental well-being to pursue anything. Even if, once or twice, she could have sworn that he felt something too. But then she moved to Calgary for grad school, and Johnny started bringing her out with the boys, and she finally got to see him in his element, really in his element. She got to see Alternate Captain Matthew Tkachuk, the one who’d go to the ends of the earth for his team, who would score goals and drop gloves and do whatever needed to be done whenever it needed to be done. And it didn’t hurt that Matty looked hot as fuck whenever he got into fights, his curls flying as he stuffed his helmet under an arm, skating over to the penalty box. It only hurt that she had let herself fall for him.
March 22 (mon)
Johnny was over at Matthew’s apartment; he had come over under a pretense of going over some tape from their last road trip, but it had quickly devolved into a very heated game of Super Smash Bros before the pair took a break for dinner. “Dude, your laundry’s in the way,” Johnny said as he made his way to the bathroom, Matthew staring at the half-cooked pot of pasta on his stove. 
“It’s clean, you can just dump it in my room,” he called down the hall. He didn’t hear the tell-tale click of the bathroom door, so he looked down the hallway, only to be greeted by a site he hoped he’d never have to see. 
A conspiratorial grin on his face, Johnny held a black, lacy pair of panties between two fingers. His sister’s panties. The half-second it took for Matthew to reach, jumping forward and grabbing them out of his hands, unfortunately wasn’t enough. He held them behind his back, almost as if he was hoping that if Johnny couldn’t see them, they weren’t really there. 
“Leigh’s?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. 
Matthew rubbed his temples with the hand that wasn’t holding the panties. “Yeah. Just...Pretend you never saw those, okay?” 
Johnny rolled his eyes. “Who would I tell? The boys? They wouldn’t care. You? You already know. Elsie?” Matthew froze. “She’d just slap me and get mad at invading your privacy.”
“And you are,” Matthew mumbles, stuffing the panties into his back pocket. 
Johnny’s brow furrowed; he leaned up against the doorframe. “Seriously, though, Chucky. What’s going on with you and this girl? You know everyone respects your decision to keep things quiet and private, but I’m your best friend on the team.” The look on his face betrayed the hurt he felt inside. “I would have thought you’d say something, to me at least.”
Matthew let out a deep breath. How was he going to talk his way out of this one? “I know, and I feel bad that it seems like I’ve been keeping things from you.” But he was keeping things. Very important things. “I think with Leigh and I, we just want to take things slow, make sure what we have is real. And I think it is,” he said, hazarding a glance at his friend. “I don’t know if it’s love, yet, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about a girl before. But we both agree that we need to know before we open it up to the opinions of the rest of the world, before she gets shoved into the public eye. And she understands what that’s like better than most, but it’s still not fair.” 
Johnny’s ears perked. “Better than most?” Matthew froze. “What is she, like an Instagram model or something?” 
He smirked, pushing him with one hand. “No, she’s not.” 
Johnny realized quickly that he wasn’t going to be getting any more information out of Matthew anytime soon, so much to his chagrin, he dropped it. Johnny left Matthew’s apartment that night with a weird taste in his mouth, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. And he didn’t like that. 
April 3 (sat) 
Everyone was at Gio’s house, one of his quarterly team barbecues that had quickly become one of Matthew’s favorite things as soon as he joined the team. By “everyone,” that meant the players and their families, kids, partners, parents if they were in town. Johnny hadn’t invited Elsie — he assumed she’d be getting ready for finals, which was true, but Matthew knew she could have spared an afternoon — and Matthew couldn’t think of a way to invite her himself without arousing suspicion, so she was back in her downtown apartment while the boys were busy grilling up an inhuman amount of meat for dinner.
After everyone ate and the dishwasher had been loaded, someone decided to light the fire pit, and the conversation turned to relationships. For once, Matty didn’t tune out.“It’s the little things, you know?” Gio said, tipping back his beer. “When I see Lauren in my jersey at the games, or when she’s fallen asleep on the couch waiting for us to get back from a road trip. Makes you realize that what really matters isn’t so much how many goals you score or how big a contract you have. It boils down to the quality of people in your life, and we’ve got some good ones.” 
“It’s the same thing with Leigh and I,” Matthew said. His words caused everyone to listen. There were precious few times Matthew willingly volunteered information about his relationship, and as much as his teammates genuinely did respect their penchant for privacy, that didn’t mean they wanted any fewer details. “Sometimes when she stays over and doesn’t have anywhere to be the next day, I’ll walk out to the kitchen and she’ll just be dancing around the stove, making pancakes and singing along to a Fleetwood Mac song. Usually takes her a minute or two to notice me.” 
The guys laughed, and Matty took a long pull of his beer. He wasn’t really risking anything by saying that. Plenty of people liked Fleetwood Mac. “And she’s got this little scar behind her right ear, got it from falling out of a tree as a kid. She always tries to cover it up, but I like it better when she lets it show.” Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Matty’s frustration about not being able to say anything about the woman he was falling in love with finally coming to a head, that made him say something he maybe shouldn’t have. 
He realized, as he hesitantly met Johnny’s eyes, and could see the gears in his head turning, that he definitely shouldn’t have said anything. Johnny was looking in between his beer and Matthew, then Matthew and his beer, then his hands and Matthew’s, which were tapping nervously on the arm of his deck chair. And then he started to put things together. The orange blossom soap at Matthew’s apartment — Elsie’s favorite scents were citrus. Fleetwood Mac was one of her favorite bands. Their maternal grandma’s middle name was Leigh. And the scar. He remembered the day she got it, falling off an oak tree in their backyard in New Jersey, running into the house to get their mom and then in the car to the emergency room with a six-year-old Elsie who needed four stitches from the accident. And with an extremely uncomfortable feeling, he realized that that more likely than not, that meant the pair of panties he had picked up that one afternoon in Matthew’s apartment had been hers. He wanted to throw up. 
Matthew was sweating as Johnny finally looked him in the eyes, realizing that the secret he and Elsie had tried so hard to keep for so long wasn’t going to be a secret much longer. “Matthew,” he began, his voice dangerously low. Matthew winced. He couldn’t remember the last time Johnny had called him by his first name. “Her name’s not Leigh, is it.” He said it like a statement, because, well, it was. He knew the answer, he just needed to hear it from someone other than himself, that the one thing he had asked of his best friend had apparently proven too much. 
Matthew shook his head slowly. “No.” Everyone else’s eyes flitted between the pair, Markstrom and Gio and Andersson and everyone else very clearly confused. 
“Something going on here?” Gio asked carefully. 
“Tell them what her name is, Matthew.” Matthew squeezed his eyes shut. If he didn’t see everyone’s reactions, everyone’s disappointed faces, maybe they wouldn’t happen. 
“Elsie.” 
“Elsie what?” he prompted. 
“Elsie Gaudreau,” Matthew finished. You could have heard a pin drop, the backyard was so silent.
 “Dude, you’re dating his sister?” Noah asked. 
Matthew nodded, one hand still tightly gripping his bottle. 
“How long?” Johnny asked, looking him straight in the eyes. 
“Just under six months,” Matthew admitted. 
He sucked a breath in. “You’ve been dating my sister for six fucking months and nobody ever thought to maybe, I don’t know, tell me?”
“It didn’t start as dating, we were just—” 
Johnny cut him off. “I can see where that’s going, and I don’t want to fucking hear it, Matthew. This was the one thing I asked you to not do. You’re a fucking All-Star NHL player, Matt. You could have any girl you wanted, you could wheel half of Calgary and I wouldn’t care as long as everyone was into it. But my little sister? The one person I told you years ago was off-limits? You had to fall for Elsie?” 
“I—” Matthew stammered as he set his drink down. “I didn’t expect anything to happen. Neither of us did. But then it did, and I fell for her, and for some ungodly reason she’s decided to stay with me, and I don’t know, Johnny,” he finished weakly. “I felt terrible about keeping it from you, and for what it’s worth, Elsie does too. I feel awful about how you found out, you deserved better than this. But I won’t apologize for my feelings.”
Johnny scoffed, standing up and grabbing his keys. “She deserves better.”
April 4 (sun)
The first thing Matthew did the next day was go over to Elsie’s house. He had already called her the night before to tell her what happened; even if he didn’t, she had the numbers of half the guys on the team and more than one had texted her to check in after seeing how Johnny left things. When he opened the door, Elsie wasn’t doing well, to put it mildly. She was sitting on her couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a barely-touched mug of tea on the coffee table in front of her. She gave him a weak smile as he walked over. “Hey.”
He bent down, kissing the top of her head. “Hey, Els. How are you doing?”
“Not great.” At least she didn’t try to hide, not like it would have been any use with Matthew. He could read her almost as well as her own parents could. “I tried to call him last night and this morning, sent a few texts, just trying to explain. Asking to talk. But he hasn’t responded to anything, I called my mom and she said she hasn’t heard anything either.”
Matthew sat on the couch beside her. “He hasn’t talked to Gio either.”
She rested her head on his shoulder; his fingers carded through the soft hair at the base of her neck. “I feel like it’s my fault,” Elsie said despondently. Coming in between her brother and one of his best friends was the last thing she would have wanted, and she was starting to feel like everything was falling apart because of her. “It never would have happened if I wasn’t there,” she mumbled into Matty’s shoulder. 
Matthew immediately shook his head. “No, no, don’t say things like that, babe. It’s not your fault, don’t put all the blame on you. Everyone dropped the ball on this one, and you shouldn’t have to take responsibility for how your brother decided to react.”
They were jolted out of their relative peace by a frantic knocking on the door. Elsie furrowed her brow. “I’m not expecting anyone?” she questioned as she threw the blanket off of her lap, She opened the door to see Johnny, staring bashfully down at his hands, an apologetic look on his face. 
“I’m sorry,” he said. 
Elsie raised her eyebrows. “You should be.” After a moment, she stood aside to let him in the door.
He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Matthew’s eyes. “I talked to Mom, she kind of chewed me out about the whole thing. Not talking to you when you called or texted, the way I kind of blew up at you yesterday,” he nodded at Matthew, “but mostly the leaving. Neither of you deserved that. You deserved to have a chance to sit down, explain yourselves, and have an adult conversation.” A flash of regret shot through his eyes, which steeled again as soon as he saw Matthew’s arms around Elsie, who had returned to the couch. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. I’m still pissed that you went behind my back, and that you two decided to do the one thing I asked you not to do, and how you blindsided me—”
“You’re not my dad, Johnny. You don’t get to decide how I live my life,” Elsie said sharply.
He screwed his eyes shut. “I know, but I love you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, and—”
“No more ‘ands.’ I know you don’t like it, Johnny. You’ve made that much very clear,” Elsie said in frustration. “Pretty much everyone knows that if you could make a list of guys you wanted to date your little sister, Matthew Tkachuk would be in last place. But just think,” she paused, looking up at her brother. “Think about all the things you said to look for in a guy when I started getting old enough to date. Divorce who Matty is from your feelings about us being together. You always gave me three things. Someone who cares about me. Someone who respects me. And someone who’s honest.” Johnny nodded, his hands in his pockets. “Matty is all of that and more, Johnny. He treats me better than anyone I’ve ever been with, and I love him. And that’s what you’ve always wanted for me. Nothing more and nothing less.” 
Johnny leaned up against the bookshelf. “I guess you’re right.” 
Elsie cracked a tiny grin. “I’m sorry, what was that?” 
He groaned in response. “Don’t make me say it again, I’m not going to.” She shrugged. He looked between her and Matthew, sighing. “I overreacted, and I’m sorry about that. If you love him,” Elsie smiled, “and he cares about you,” Matthew frantically nodded, “then there’s really nothing more I could ask for. I think it just hurt that you two felt like you couldn’t come to me as soon as things progressed, as soon as you got together.” 
“We were afraid you’d react like you did,” Elsie said, reaching over to grab Matty’s hand. “We never wanted to hurt you, and I might only be speaking for myself, but I think I was worried you’d try to come between us, or say something about the relationship, or…” She trailed off. “I don’t know. Sure, you shouldn’t have reacted that way, but you’re not the only one to blame. We shouldn’t have kept things from you, or from Mom and Dad for that matter.” 
Johnny laughed. “Honestly? I’m pretty sure Mom called it from the beginning.” Elsie frowned. “What do you mean?” “You know when Matty came over to Jersey in the summer when you guys were about 20, and we all took that vacation on the beach?” She nodded. “There was one time when she saw you together, running into the ocean together. You were laughing as hard as I’ve ever seen you, Matthew was splashing water back at you, and you kept trying to tackle him into the waves. Mom, Dad, and I were back up on the beach. She just looked at you two, looked at me, and smiled.” 
Matthew rubbed his thumb over the back of Elsie’s hand. “You think she knew?” he asked curiously. 
Johnny nodded. “I think she knew even before you guys figured it out for yourselves.”
“How could she tell?” Elsie asked. 
Johnny gave a soft smile, looking over towards the couple. “You’ve never been a good liar, Elsie. And you can’t hide love.”
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