#Danny Townsend

[c0ckedgun]

just your normal gas station employees from that strange edge of town

[screencapsontherun]

Evil | 1.03 "3 Stars"

[chadfallout76podcast]

WE'RE LIVE WITH SOME OF THE STARS OF FALLOUT 4!!!!

Join us for an ultimate AMA with some of the STARS of Fallout 4!

Featuring: Jon Gentry, Courtenay Taylor, Wes Johnson, Peter Jessop, Katy Townsend, Keythe Farley, and Danny Shorago! Courtesy of StreamilyLive! Watch: https://www.twitch.tv/chadfallout76podcast

We are fundraising for the Alzheimer's Association, almost $35k raised so far!

[hoodienanami]

according to pete townsend the secret to success for any great pop group is a gay manager!

i think we can extend this concept beyond just pop groups tho as andy warhol, malcolm mclaren, andrew loog oldham, and danny fields fit the gay/bisexual manager trope while being the managers of unconventional rock groups (the velvet underground, sex pistols, the rolling stones, and the stooges + ramones respectively)

(snippet from an esquire article about jon savage's newest book the secret public)

[kittenofdoomage]

Hot For Teacher

Summary: He never forgot the teacher that had the most impact on him.

Prompt: Dean Winchester, in class, crushing on the teacher

Pairing: Dean Winchester x older!female!teacher!reader

Word Count: 5643 words

Warnings: fluff, crushes, slight angst, some mentions of John’s stellar parenting (don’t @ me, I love him, but I can be character critical), smut (nothing underage), flashbacks, reader is approaching forty, some humor about sex in later life.

Ao3 Link

“I’m telling you, man, this isn’t our thing,” Sam dismissed, following Dean through the doors into the high school reception. His brother grunted, flashing his badge at the security guard, who directed him to the desk where a gentleman was quietly reading.

“And I’m telling you, it might be.” Dean retorted, fixing a professionally fake smile onto his face, leaning on the desk with one elbow. “Agents Townsend and Daltry, we’ve got an appointment?”

The man peered at him over his glasses, pursing his lips for a split second as he glanced at the identification Dean was holding. After a second or two, he looked down, checking the clipboard wedged underneath his arm, before he smiled back at them. “Principal Matthews is in her office, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Dean nodded, turning to move a little further away out of earshot. “We got five kids, swearing they saw a monster.”

“Yeah, highschoolers, seniors in their final year, acting out an urban legend,” Sam replied. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”

“Yeah? Got any leads?” the older man challenged. “Because last I checked, we had bupkis to go on.”

Sam sighed, but the argument was cut short as a door opened, and a tall lady with grey hair looked at them. “Agents?”

The office they stepped into was large, decorated sparsely with modern furniture, and a large flag behind her desk read “Gellar Gators, Go, Go, Go!” with a cartoon alligator in a football helmet. As Principal Matthews took her seat, both men turned to face her, though Dean was still inspecting everything.

“I assume this is about the recent attacks,” she started, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. “I’m not sure what I can tell you that I haven’t already told the police. They took all our security camera footage and -”

“Nothing to be seen,” Dean interjected with a nod, pulling out a notepad and a pen. “We’re just following up, seeing if anyone remembered anything different. Maybe something they didn’t want to tell the police?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” the principal asked, obviously confused. “I know some of the other children were saying it was a monster, but we all know how children can be.”

“We’re just trying to make sure no one else gets hurt,” Dean continued, keeping his tone gentle. “You’re aware that there was another victim last night?”

“Danny Elderman, yes, I’ve been told,” she murmured, shaking her head sadly. “His mother said he would make a full recovery though.”

Sam dragged his hand out of his pocket, gesticulating slightly. “All the attacks took place on school grounds, Principal Matthews.”

“And the police searched the whole place,” she defended. “I can assure you, Agents, we are taking this seriously. The students have all been instructed to report anything strange and there’s a curfew in effect.”

The brothers shared a look, realizing that this wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Dean cleared his throat, stepping a little closer. “We’re gonna stick around, speak to some of the students, if that’s okay.”

Principal Matthews nodded, gesturing to the door. “Of course, anything to help.”

Turning on his heel to head for the door, Dean’s gaze caught sight of a board, showcasing the faculty members with photographs and a brief description of their position. A single face jumped out at him, and for a moment, he was seventeen again. He froze, staring at it, before Sam’s fist jammed into his back and forced him to keep going.

Once outside, he stopped entirely, spinning around to face his brother. “Did you see her?” he asked, feeling a little breathless.

Sam’s face scrunched up. “Who?”

“On the faculty board. Miss. Y/L/N -” He laughed, shaking his head. “Outta all of the schools in the country -”

“Wait a minute,” Sam mumbled, remembering the name. “The math teacher from Luther High? That Miss. Y/L/N?”

“Yeah,” Dean replied excitedly. “Wonder if she remembers me?”

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “She’s probably married with kids by now, Dean, it’s been nearly twenty years. It might not even be her.”

“It was.”

“Fine, say it is. What are you gonna do? Go tell her you had a crush on her when you were a kid?”

Dean pulled a face, irritated by his brother’s attitude. “Not hurting anyone if I just say hi,” he muttered bitterly, “and I didn’t say you had to come with me.”

Sam seemed glad of that, at least, and decided to leave Dean to make an ass of himself alone. The gentleman at the desk was more than happy to provide the “agent” with the classroom he needed, and as Dean strolled down the corridor towards her class, his mind began to wander back to 1996, and his three months in Dawney, Montana.

It wasn’t that he hated school, he just didn’t see the point of it, not when there were more important things in the world, like hunting. His dad had left them in this crummy mountain town while he tracked something through the forest, and Dean didn’t know how long they were going to be there. Attending high school was at least a way to pass the time, and it kept social services off their backs, as well as providing a useful tool for keeping an eye on his troublesome younger brother.

Sam was happy to be starting school again. Summer had dragged, and they’d been at loggerheads in their small rented room, with little to do to occupy the time. Luther High School wasn’t a huge campus, and it had barely four hundred students, so Dean was relieved of the pressure of trying to make friends when he didn’t want to.

The first day back, and he’d already managed to irritate the science teacher and the coach. His third period was math, and when the teacher walked in, Dean wasn’t sure she was a teacher at all. She was young, maybe a few years older than him, and she looked nervous as hell as she addressed her only senior class of thirty.

“Okay, good afternoon, everyone,” she greeted, dropping her stacks of paper onto the desk. “Hope you’re not too bored of learning after the summer break already.”

A kid in the middle raised his hand, and she pointed at him, waiting for his question. “Are you really our teacher?” he snorted. “You don’t look much older than us.”

She chuckled, tugging her blouse back down where it had ridden up. “I am definitely your teacher. Well, I’m a student intern. I’ve got a degree, I’m just working towards certification now.” Picking up a piece of chalk, she turned to the board and wrote her name out in neat cursive before turning back. “I’m Miss. Y/L/N.”

Another hand went up but this kid didn’t wait for permission. “How old are you?”

Miss. Y/L/N smiled. “Now didn’t your mama tell you it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” she chided. “If you really need to know, I’m twenty-two. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hate me as much as if I was fifty,” she joked, picking up a sheet. “Anyway, we’re here to learn math, so why don’t you open your books to page thirty-three and we’ll crack on with some calculus. You’re gonna have to bear with me - they told me I was teaching ninth and tenth, so I wasn’t exactly prepared.”

In any other situation, Dean was sure he would have gone out of his way to make this poor woman’s life hell. He wasn’t a model student, and never had any intention of being one, but for some reason, as he watched Miss. Y/L/N fluster over her notes, apologizing repeatedly for the slightest thing, he didn’t feel the urge to be his usual irritating self. Instead, he kept his head down - when he wasn’t looking at her - and worked quietly, though he was certain he was getting every answer wrong.

The class ended, and the other students rushed to get out and onto their last lesson of the day, but as Dean went for the door, Miss. Y/L/N stopped him. He froze when she called his name, suddenly panicked that she had caught him staring, but the gentle smile on her face didn’t scream “trouble”.

“Dean,” she said softly, “sorry, I didn’t want to pick on you in front of everyone.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked carefully, the ever present concern of social services in the back of his mind.

“No!” she insisted, laughing lightly. “I was told you were new here, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t have trouble following. These guys can pick up where they left off last year, but sometimes high schools don’t always follow the same plan, y’know?”

“Oh, uh,” he scratched his head nervously, “I’m fine, y’know. It’s math.”

A bright smile lit up her face, and his heart did a funny fluttering thing that left him slightly breathless. “That’s great,” she enthused. “If you have any problems, feel free to come to me, okay?”

He smiled back, struggling to contain the boyish crow that wanted to burst out of him at her attention. “Sure,” he replied through gritted teeth, “thanks.”

It didn’t feel like he could get out of there quick enough. His last period was a blur, passing by him as he sat at the back, unnoticed by the graying gentleman trying to teach them about ancient Europe. Miss. Y/L/N’s smile haunted his thoughts, and he couldn’t focus on anything, even when he met Sam at the school gate.

“Dean?”

His brother’s voice snapped him out of his stupor as they walked home. “What?” he mumbled, staring over at him cluelessly.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“You weren’t paying attention to anything I just said.”

Another shrug. “Was it important?”

Sam scowled. “No, but -”

He groaned, picking up speed a little. “C’mon, man, I’m tired.”

There was a small hope that his newfound level of infatuation with the opposite sex was only a fleeting thing, but when Miss. Y/L/N walked into class the next day wearing tight fitting pants with a red blouse, he knew it wasn’t. He’d had plenty of experience with girls his age, and though she wasn’t much older, he wasn’t sure his experience would lend him any favors.

The worst part was wanting to please her. He actually paid attention, making an effort to understand the numbers instead of half-assing it like he’d done his entire life.

Confiding in Sam after school didn’t leave him with any more hope either.

“Dean, she’s a teacher.”

“She’s a student teacher.”

“I don’t think that matters much,” his brother denied. “Besides, aren’t we supposed to stay out of trouble? Social services aren’t gonna look the other way if you seduce a teacher.”

Dean grumbled unhappily. “I’m eighteen in a few months,” he complained.

“You really think we’ll be here then?” Sam asked, sadness in his voice. “We’ll be lucky if we’re still here for Halloween, Dean.”

“Guess I have to hope Dad comes to get us soon then,” he sighed.

John didn’t come back for them soon. He checked in every week, promising it wouldn’t be long, but weeks rolled into months, and Dean’s crush grew, developing into something his teenage heart wasn’t sure what to do with. Channeling his nervous energy into actually doing his work was landing him with good grades, and two months in, he brought home his first report card that didn’t include an “F”. Of course, only Sam was there to celebrate it, but he was a little proud of himself.

Two months into their tenure at Luther High, and one Wednesday after class, Miss. Y/L/N asked him to wait after class again. This period was the last of the day, so he didn’t rush, waiting until she’d cleared everyone out.

“I wanted to catch up,” she began, leaning against her desk and bracing her weight on her hands. “See how you were getting on.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, giving her an awkward smile. “Good, I guess,” he mumbled, the same nerves from their last chat reaching up into his throat to strangle him. He coughed lightly, shrugging. “It’s nice here.”

“Hmm,” she agreed, glancing out of the window. “It is. Not somewhere I’d wanna live forever though. What about you?” He shrugged, and she smiled gently. “I’ve read your file, Dean. Are you an army kid or -”

“My dad travels for work,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Can I ask what he does?”

He tensed, keeping his mouth shut, retreating to the safe behavior of brick walling it. Despite that instinct, there was an urge, something inside him telling him that she wouldn’t laugh at him or call child services, and it was getting harder to ignore as she eyeballed him for an answer.

She stood straight, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re a smart kid, Dean. You’ve shown that in your grades, that even with all the disruption, you’ve got a brain in there. Have you… have you considered what happens after school?”

He shrugged again. “The family business.”

“What does that mean?”

His heart thudded in his chest. “My dad, he…” Don’t do it, his father’s voice instructed sternly in his head. It never ends well. He swallowed again, trying to turn his voice to steel, to put her off like he had so many others. “He’ll be coming to get us soon. You’re wasting your time.”

“I don’t think I am,” she replied, ignoring the warning in his voice. “I don’t consider trying to help anyone to be a waste of time. And I feel like you might need some help. Even just - even just to talk to someone. Without judgment.”

An unattractive snort escaped him. “They all say that, sweetheart,” he advised her, the cockiness seeping out of him, “but that disappears when they hear what I gotta say.”

“Try me.”

The solidity of her challenge gave him pause, and he finally met her gaze, holding it for a few seconds. Even though he was significantly taller, she made him feel small, like she was seeing through him, and he shuddered, letting the guard drop.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “You’ll call some social worker. I’ve been through this before, and I’m not putting Sammy through that again.”

Miss. Y/L/N frowned, dropping her hands to her sides. “Your brother is Sammy, right?” He nodded. “I’ve had him for a couple classes. He’s a smart kid,” she paused, smiling, “just like his brother.” 

Dean watched her warily, feeling like prey on its back, belly exposed and vulnerable.

“The bonus of being a student teacher,” she continued, slowly walking to the door and closing it, “is I’m very good at missing things.” The lock clicked as she slid it into place, and she turned back to him. “Safe space, Dean. Whatever you need to get off your chest, I promise I won’t say a word to anyone.”

He stared at her, too terrified to move for a second. It wasn’t like his father was going to break the habit of a lifetime and build a life here, so telling her might not have many consequences, but then again, it was ingrained into him not to tell anyone about the family business.

Miss. Y/L/N waited, patiently, moving herself away from the door and back to her desk, giving him the space, and the exit, if he needed it.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” he finally asked softly, unwilling to meet her gaze just yet.

She shrugged. “I don’t not believe in them,” she replied. “I’ve never seen one myself.”

“And if I told you they are real? Like really real, and my dad kinda hunts them.” He rushed it out, still unable to look at her for fear of her reaction. “Other things too,” he whispered. “I’ve… I’ve seen things that… that give me nightmares.”

Her silence felt judgmental but when he eventually managed to look her in the eye, she was only staring at him with compassion. “That sounds terrifying,” she said quietly. “I can’t imagine anyone would sleep well with that knowledge.”

“Which is why I shouldn’t be telling you anything,” he growled, frustrated with himself. “Rule number one, don’t tell anyone what we do. And I went and broke it because -”

The abrupt end of his outburst made her frown. “Because?” she prompted, and he grunted, running a hand through his short hair. “Because?” she asked again, stepping closer.

“Because I like you,” he murmured, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Because you don’t look at me like I’m some kind of freak.” He turned away, embarrassed and ashamed, and ready to throw the towel in on the whole school thing.

Her hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, alert green eyes meeting hers in surprise. “I’m flattered,” she whispered, smiling gently. “And you’re not a freak. You’re a kid with a hell of a weight on his shoulders.”

It would have been lying to say he didn’t appreciate the validation. “I’m eighteen in January,” he muttered.

“Still illegal,” she chuckled. “Position of authority and all that.”

“I can assure you, I have no respect for authority,” he tried, turning on the charm, but it only made her giggle. The laughter didn’t hurt him, which was surprising, but he already knew he had no shot at her, legal or not.

“I’m not gonna pretend the thought of things being real isn’t terrifying,” she said slowly. “Obviously, I can’t relate. But I was seventeen not so long ago, and I remember how scary just regular life can be. You’re Sam's primary caregiver, right?”

“Uh-huh. When my dad’s not around, and -” He shrugged, trailing off, leaving the implication that his father wasn’t around much in the air.

“That’s a lot of responsibility at a young age. And Sam’s such a good kid, you should be proud.”

“I am.”

Miss. Y/L/N smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder again. “You’re a good person, Dean Winchester. Whatever you decide to do with your life, just don’t forget that, and I’ve got faith you’ll be okay.”

Two weeks later, Luther High School was in the rearview, and they were moving on.

She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered her. Standing outside her classroom, staring at her through the square window in the door, he felt seventeen again. Of course she’d aged, so had he, but for a woman pushing forty, she looked great.

Her class seemed focused on everything she was saying, and she seemed to be in her element at the front of the room, running through a mathematical problem on the board. Dean stepped closer, and the movement made her gaze dart to the door, her whole body freezing as she saw his face. Her lips stopped moving, eyes wide; the bell rang, saving her from her class noticing her sudden distraction, and she quickly dismissed them.

He waited outside the door until the room was empty, then stepped in, closing the door behind him. Miss. Y/L/N - he noted her name on the board, internally crowing that she was not married - smiled, folding her arms across her chest as she watched him approach.

“Dean Winchester,” she breathed. “That smart kid I always wondered about.”

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he greeted. “Best teacher I ever had. Can’t believe you recognized me.”

Her smile widened. “How could I forget a face that handsome?” she chuckled. “And it’s Y/N, please, we’re both grown ups now.” She looked him up and down, not even bothering to conceal her appreciation. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

“You’re still teaching,” he commented, looking around.

“I am. What about you?”

“Family business,” he murmured hesitantly, unsure if she’d remember. “Guess I never found another path I liked enough.”

She hummed. “Are you happy though?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “for the most part. Yeah.” His awkwardness was showing like twenty years had never passed, and he smiled, shoving one hand into his pocket. “What about you? Husband, kids?”

“Hmmm,” she mused. “Two cats and a ridiculous amount of books about monsters,” she confessed after a second or two, and he blinked at her in confusion. “Guess I couldn’t quite drop the questions after what you told me. Only reading though, I don’t ever want to meet one in person.” Her face contorted in horror. “Oh, god, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? The attacks - is it a monster?”

He pulled a face. “Not sure yet. My brother and I are looking into it -”

“Wait, your brother, Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t kidding about family business,” she muttered.

“I take it you didn’t see or hear anything?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I don’t stay past dark, and I only teach the juniors now. You’d be better off talking to Mr. Harrison, several of his students were involved.” A knock at the door made them both turn, and Dean waved at Sam on the other side. “Is that Sam?” she asked, sounding a little shocked. “Wow. He got tall.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, he did.” He looked back at her, a smirk on his lips. “Listen, when we’ve dealt with this,” he began slowly, “I’d really like to buy you dinner. I don’t think I gotta worry about getting you in trouble now we’re both graying adults.”

Her laughter was music to his ears, and she turned to her desk, bending to scribble her number on a scrap of paper. Dean took the opportunity to admire her ass in the tight-fitting black pants, and his cock reacted at the thought of finally getting what his teenage fantasies had been made of.

She straightened and slipped the scrap of paper into his hand, closing his fingers around it. “I’m certain we can still find plenty of trouble to get into,” she purred, the sudden seduction making him flustered as Sam knocked on the door again.

“I bet we can,” he stuttered out, backing up towards the door. “I’ll call you, Miss….” He laughed nervously as he corrected himself. “Y/N.”

It hadn’t taken more than another few hours to figure out the case was vampires, and Mr. Harrison was actually the creature in question. He’d been turned on a wild weekend and had decided to attempt sustainable feeding, using his young students as walking blood bags. Unfortunately, the light snacks weren’t enough to keep him going, and it was only by the grace of Sam and Dean’s presence that the final victim wasn’t a casualty.

Dean was nervous to call her when they were finally done hunting the vamp down and when he finally dialed the number, he was half-expecting it to be fake. She answered after four rings, and he stumbled over his words as he asked her if she was still interested in dinner. Her answer was a resounding yes, and he let her take the lead on a place and time.

“You’re going on a date?” Sam asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m going on a date,” Dean snapped, buttoning up his nicest shirt, one of his newer red plaid button downs. “One, I haven’t had sex in months, and two, she’s literally my teenage fantasy.” He paused, tossing his brother a dirty look. “Three, maybe you should consider getting laid.”

Sam sneered at him, then threw himself on the bed, switching the tv on. “I guess I’ll stay here then.”

“You do that,” Dean grinned, grabbing his jacket. “Don’t wait up.”

She was waiting for him in a little Italian place downtown, and it was all he could do not to grin like an idiot when he walked in and saw her. Her smile was bright as he sat down opposite her, both of them remaining silent as the server handed them each a menu.

“Hi,” she whispered, leaning in. “You look really good.”

Dean let his gaze drop, admiring the view of her cleavage in the little black dress she’d paired with leggings. “Hi yourself,” he murmured, smirking lightly. “That’s a very distracting dress.”

“Would you have preferred I wore a pantsuit?” she teased, giggling when his cheeks turned red. “This place is great, any of their pasta is amazing.”

“You eat here often?”

She nodded, smiling at him again. “It’s my favorite place.”

He didn’t know what it had been about her all those years ago, but she was the same now, coaxing him into an easy conversation. They talked about everything from her life to snippets of his, though she avoided asking about anything too intense, and he avoided sharing anything too disturbing. It was nice for once to just be a regular person, without the need to be incredibly guarded about his secrets.

Dinner moved onto dessert, and they kept talking, flirting with each other as the restaurant emptied around them. By the time their meal was finished, Dean had begun to envision what happened after, but when it came to propositioning it, he found himself unusually nervous.

She called for the check and insisted on paying, so he didn’t argue, sitting nervously as she thanked and tipped the server. When they disappeared again, leaving them alone, she turned her attention to him, smiling almost coyly.

“I’m not gonna pretend this is anything more than what it is,” she said suddenly, keeping her voice even and quiet. “One night between two adults, who they’ll probably never see again, right?”

He sighed with a tiny laugh, leaning his arm on the table. “I’m not the type to settle down,” he replied calmly. “And this life…”

“I get it,” she whispered, taking his hand. “I’m not looking for long haul. But I wouldn’t mind making a happy memory or two.” Her lips twitched into a smile. “Besides, I don’t wanna have gotten all dressed up for nothing.”

“I can assure you,” he replied firmly, “you did not.”

She grinned. “My place is about four blocks away.”

“My car’s outside.”

His inner seventeen year old, if such a thing existed, was jumping for joy as she led him out of the restaurant. She admired his car openly, prompting him to act out just a little, showing off his baby with pride before driving them back to her apartment. The aforementioned cats were meowing loudly when they entered, and he followed her into the kitchen, shedding his jacket as she fed the whining felines.

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, returning to him once she’d washed her hands.

He smirked, bypassing conversation as he slid his fingers along her jaw and into her hair, pulling her into a passionate kiss that made her sigh when he pulled away a few seconds later. “Wow,” he murmured, staying close, noses tip to tip. “You know how many times I dreamed about doing that?”

“Did you ever dream about being in my bedroom?” she teased, twisting her finger in the collar of his shirt.

“Actually, most of the time, I was thinking about bending you over your desk,” he grinned, sliding his other hand over her hip. “I’m guessing you don’t have one in here?”

“No,” she giggled. “Will the bed do?”

“Lead the way.”

Her shoes were abandoned by the time they reached the bedroom door, with his shoes following just inside. Pants, shirt, and dress landed in another pile, and as they hit the bed, her leggings disappeared, his t-shirt following in rapid succession. His hands were everywhere he could put them, lips kissing every patch of skin revealed unless he was preoccupied by her mouth, and she whimpered when his fingers deftly unhooked and discarded her bra.

If only seventeen-year-old him had known this would happen one day.

Finally, he broke away to catch his breath, chuckling when he noticed her breathing heavily too. “If this had been ten years ago,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Tell me about it,” she agreed, reaching for the drawer beside her bed, opening it and pulling out a box of condoms. He happily took one but didn’t open it, flashing a grin at her. “What?” she asked.

“You’re rushing me,” he chided softly. “I have no intention of doing anything but savoring this moment.”

Any reply she had to that disappeared as his fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties, finding her already wet. Her moan drowned out his, and she clutched his shoulder as he eased a single finger into her, thrusting it back and forth to coax more wetness out of her.

“Oh, fuck,” she whined, arching a little, hips canting toward him in an effort to get more friction. “Oh, fuck, Dean -”

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, “can’t wait to have this pussy wrapped around me.” Her fingers tightened on his shoulder as he added a second, opening her up. “But I want you to cum first.”

It was pointless trying to quiet her own noises, giving up when biting her lip didn’t cut it. Dean worked her higher and higher, watching her facial expression crumble as she reached her peak, her cries turning silent when he twisted his hand and grazed his thumb against her clit.

“I really wanna eat you out,” he murmured, lowering his voice to a rumble, and she quickly nodded, giving him the permission he was seeking. Withdrawing his hand, he left her teetering on the precipice of an orgasm as he removed her panties and slotted himself between her thighs.

His tongue was warm against her sensitive sex and she cried out again as he explored her, figuring out what made her tremble. She was drowning in a haze of arousal, unable to think about anything beyond his mouth on her cunt, and when he sank two fingers into her again, she had to fight the urge to close her thighs against the pleasure.

Dean was in heaven, working her into a frenzy with his tongue and fingers. He’d had a lot of time to think about this particular fantasy, and having her here, wet and warm and inviting, writhing underneath him, he was certain he’d peaked. He knew he would be replaying this one on repeat forever.

“Deeean,” Y/N whimpered, fingers tugging on his short hair. “Fuck, I’m so close -”

He broke away, working his fingers into her harder as she spread herself open a little more. “Don’t worry,” he growled, “just let go, baby.”

Her cries echoed off the walls when he sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing the bud and crooking his fingers inside her to find that extra sweet spot. It didn’t take long; she wailed as her pussy clenched around him, her pleasure ringing in his ears, but he didn’t stop, working her through the climax until she went limp.

He couldn’t keep the filthy smirk off of his face as he got onto his knees and retrieved the condom from where he’d dropped it. “You doing okay there, Miss. Y/L/N.”

“Don’t,” she panted with a giggle. “You’ll make it awkward when people call me that.”

“Spoilsport,” he chuckled, opening the foil packet and tugging the condom free. “You still want this?”

She pushed herself up on shaking arms. “Uh-huh.”

A few seconds later and the condom was on. He stroked himself a few times before leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss, guiding the tip of his cock through her folds until she whimpered into his mouth. Her pussy was dripping, eagerly accepting every inch as he sank inside her, drawing back a couple of times when he met resistance, but not stopping until he was buried deep.

He had to stop then, feeling how hard his heart was racing. She caught his jaw with her hand, kissing him softly, lifting her right leg to press her knee against his side, allowing him to slip a tiny bit deeper. “Dreams do come true,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers.

“You always were hot for teacher,” she joked, and he chuckled, kissing her hard again before starting to rock against her. He didn’t rush, enjoying every thrust, relishing the way her body drew him back in, keeping him close. She didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t in a hurry, letting him push her into an easy orgasm. His hands wandered, toying with her tits when he was going slower, grabbing her hips when he got faster, a little more urgent.

“Want you to cum again,” he growled, holding her leg in place as he fucked into her, “Wanna feel it right around my dick.”

“Uh-huh,” she managed, clinging to his neck. “Wanna feel y-you too.”

He nodded then kissed her, focusing on nothing but how good she felt in his arms, underneath, around him. So soft and wet, warm, inviting, his literal dream come true. Even if this was only one night, he knew he’d never forget her.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Dean -”

Her whole body quivered, thighs clenching around him as her pussy tightened, and he couldn’t hold it off, reacting with his own climax. His vision swam, and he couldn’t think beyond her warmth, her taste, her moans as she came for him. She clung to him until they were both done, collapsing with him onto the bed. Breathlessly, he kissed her one last time, withdrawing reluctantly to lay beside her.

“Holy shit,” she groaned, flinging an arm over her eyes. “I’m not gonna lie… the bar was low. You obliterated it.”

Dean chuckled, folding his hands behind his head, allowing the swell of pride in his chest. “That - that was awesome,” he agreed. “A dream come true. Literally.”

Y/N yawned, reaching over to place a hand against his chest. “I hope you’re not expecting a round two.”

He grinned. “Maybe in the morning.”

Thanks for reading! Please consider reblogging, maybe even leaving a comment? 😘

[averagejoesolomon]

Here you go! Have another chapter! Can you spot all the things these boys don't say to one another, because boy howdy, there are a lot of them. Cannot wait for these events to unfold. If you're new here, you can read Full Circle from the beginning on Ao3.

Chapter Seven

“Boston’ll lead the season, but the Yanks are gonna take the series.”

The opposite end of the line is filled with clutter, dead air looping through the tinny background noise of a television on full blast. There’s talking, and laughter, and finally Joe’s crackling voice to cut through it all. “Put it on the record that this is our best phrase yet,” he says. “Seriously. Music to my ears.”

Matt rolls his eyes, leaning tight against the wall. He counts on his body to hide the bulk of this conversation, and hopes his shadow can hide the rest. “Yeah, that reminds me,” he says. “You owe me a rematch. I’m still not convinced that last move was legal.”

“It is in Virginia,” Joe confirms. “And in all but six other states.”

“I meant, like, legal as it applies to the rules of darts,” Matt clarifies, “but it’s nice to know where our barroom shenanigans stand in the eyes of the commonwealth.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re a sore loser?”  

“Just my mama,” Matt answers. “And Danny Fisher, once, after he cheated his way through a potato sack race at the county fair.”

“Glad you’re not holding a grudge.”

“He didn’t go around the barrel, Joe.”

“Uh-huh.” It’s the same tone Joe always uses anytime Hay Springs gets mentioned, translated through thousands of miles of long distance calling. Rather than sit through another story from the Sheridan County Harvest Festival, Joe leads Matt toward more serious matters. Always so serious. “Is there a reason you called me? Or did you just need to get the Danny Fisher thing off your chest?”

With the promise of real and honest spycraft hanging over the line, Matt risks a subtle glance at one of the skillets hanging from the ceiling, checking his surroundings in the reflection. The Baxters are sealed inside their soundproof room, which Matt reckons is probably a blessing for everyone around. Rachel is locked in the cabin’s lone bathroom, with the shower to drown out anything he has to say.  In the adjoining living room, Townsend reads an old paper and pretends not to eavesdrop. That’s fine. Matt has something the kid wants and, for now, he’s probably too curious to sell out any details he might overhear.

It ain’t the most secure Matt’s ever been, but it’ll do. “I need some domestic backup,” he admits, catching on the conspiratorial sound of his own voice. He hasn’t noticed it until now, and it makes him feel like a rotten sneak. No wonder everyone thinks he’s trading secrets. “How’s your foot?”

Matt can practically hear the wind from Joe waving him off. “Forget about my foot.” Joe’s end of the line takes up a new rustling as Matt gets passed from one hand, to the other, then tucked into Joe’s shoulder. Matt’s listened to enough wiretapped feeds in his career to pick up on the faint ping of a pen pulled from its mug. The rip of an old message pad torn anew. Joe at the ready, for whatever Matt throws his way. “What do you need?”

Matt warns, “I’ve got something of a laundry list.”

And Joe insists, “I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.”

“S’not your hands I’m worried about.”

“Forget about my foot, already.”

That’s not likely, but Matt’s no fool. This is one of those moments Joe always tries to warn him about—a time when Matt needs to prioritize being a good spy over being a good friend. Fact is, he’s in a bind, and Joe is the only person he trusts to help him untangle these particular knots. “I need you to check my deposit box.”

Joe’s neat, military writing scratches through the line. “Which one?”

Another glance toward Townsend. Matt chooses his words carefully, passing along a puzzle only Joe can piece together. “The one with my passport in it.”

Back when Matt still made his living from listening to the Army’s persons of interest list, this was the sort of exchange that made the days run long. He’d spend hours trying to crack the unspoken, unofficial coded messages between rebel leaders and trusted advisors, agents and longtime informants, dealers and buyers with such clean operations that they could understand unknown depths of information after sharing just a few words. It never worked out in his favor, always ending in a plea to send an agent into the field for more insight. Codes like these exist outside of the vast mathematical reliability of ciphers and encryptions, and instead require minuscule context of a person’s day-to-day life. Codes like these don’t make any sense, unless a fella already knows that Matt banks at Washington National, and that he stowed away his honest passport three years ago at Joe’s recommendation, listing the account under Luke Andrews, with Zeke Rozelle as an authorized visitor.

 For Joe, it’ll be a ten minute walk to the train station, then a stroll downtown. For anyone else listening in, it would take weeks to comb through this kind of friendly shorthand, and even that wouldn’t do much. It’s surreal to stand on the other side of his old frustrations now, knowing that he and Joe could probably bring entire governments to a standstill without ever using a full sentence. Matt doesn’t have an Uncle Ben, but the words come to him anyway—with great power…

Joe doesn’t miss a beat. “You’ve got company?”

“Here?” Matt replies. “Always.”

“Friend or foe?”

“Can’t tell yet.”

Joe’s not a fan of this answer, but to be fair, Joe probably wouldn’t have liked any answer except doesn’t matter, already shook him. “Do you need me on a plane?”

“I need you,” Matt insists, “to check my box.”

“Fine,” he says, but there’s a double meaning to it. A not-so-subtle subtext that promises Joe will be on the next flight out if he senses even the slightest reason for it. “I’ll check the box. What am I looking for?”

“Just need you to verify the contents,” Matt tells him. “I’m hearing some chatter and I’m trying to figure out how much truth there is to it.”

This instruction is cryptic enough to keep Townsend’s prying ears out of the core of the conversation, but it does leave Joe in something of a guessing game. Fortunately, Joe’s always been pretty good at guessing, at least when it comes to Matt. “Chatter about your passport?” he says, first try. “What about it?”

Over Matt’s shoulder, Townsend’s newspaper crackles. He’s good. He’s got the timing down just right. Really looks like he’s reading. Matt still doesn’t buy it, and drops his voice even lower. “Rachel’s under the impression that the Soviets are buying identities,” he says. “She thinks mine is among them, but we haven’t been able to prove it yet.”

It’s not a question, when Joe says, “You think someone broke into your box. Stole your passport.”

“Maybe,” says Matt. “Or maybe they took the other one.”

Two passports, each bearing the name Matthew Morgan. One in his deposit box. One on file at Langley. Joe knows the details just as well as Matt does, so they’re just one more conversational shortcut away from the complete realization. “And if Rachel’s right—”

“—and Rachel’s always right—”

“—and if we find a passport in your box…”

Matt nods, even if Joe can’t see him. “Could be a lead.”

The pair of them have been chasing the Circle of Cavan long enough to see its leads come and go, but this one feels different. More direct. For years, Joe was the Circle’s most active agent inside the CIA, and every shred of evidence would lead back to him. An op he ran. A transcript he sold. A legend that never quite made it on the books. But Joe was never working alone, even if he rarely knew who he was working with. It takes more than one man to bring down an organization like the CIA, even if that man is Joe Solomon.

If the right passport has fallen into the wrong hands, this is a chance to put a face to his mysterious partners. To name them, find them, stop them. Static fills the line as Joe considers the news. More TV laughter rolls through the background, eerie and broken. “You told me this mission was Rachel,” he says, in the tone of a man who never would have let Matt go alone, had he known the stakes.

“It is Rachel,” Matt assures him, in the tone of a man who has it all handled, honest. “But it could also be”—he stumbles over eager words, stopping himself before he can say too much in front of present company—“bigger than Rachel.”

“Hold on.” Maybe because he doesn’t believe his ears, Joe temporarily forgoes their underhanded back-and-forth to ask outright, “You think Rachel Cameron is chasing the Circle of Cavan?”

This, admittedly, doesn’t seem quite right, with the way Joe lays it all out. Matt considers this, then finally lands on, “Unknowingly, maybe.”

Joe scoffs. It muffles up the line. “That woman has never done anything unknowingly.”

Matt bites back a smile, small but mighty. “Suppose you’re right about that.”

“Get her out of there, Matt. I’m serious.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“A lady like Rachel has no business with the Circle.”

“She’s not exactly the kinda person you can just give orders to.”

“She’s going to get herself killed. The only thing more dangerous than going after the Circle on purpose is going after the Circle on accident.”

“What am I supposed to do? Drag her kicking and screaming onto the first plane out of Russia?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“Doesn’t seem very covert.”

“Look.” It’s one of those weighty, serious looks that Joe only pulls out when he really wants to get his point across. “Covert is the least of your concerns. She’s in this because of you, so you need to be the one to pull her out. She’s looking straight down the barrel and doesn’t even know it. It’s not right.”

Something interrupts the seamlessness of their conversation—a little blip of unrecognizable code that makes the whole thing hard to follow. Matt takes his best shot at cracking this new character in their shared alphabet. “What do you mean, she’s in this because of me?”

Whatever disconnect Matt’s feeling, Joe doesn’t seem to share it. “What do you mean, what do I mean?”

“This is her op,” Matt reminds him. “I didn’t pull her into this. She called me, remember?”

A pause. “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Not a chance,” Matt says. “I pull your leg, and your foot might fall right off.”

“Would you just—my foot is not that bad, okay?”

“What do you mean,” he tries again, “she’s in this because of me?”

There’s no small amount of deliberation on one other end of the line. Joe could fill oceans with all the things he never says, and he’s giving the Atlantic a damn good effort now. “Matt,” he says with a relenting sigh. “Now isn’t a good time to pretend there’s nothing going on between you two.”

Beers at a Williamsburg bar. A bruised jaw in Baltimore. A backless dress at the Bolshoi. Matt’s getting his wires crossed, and now a Joe conversation somehow triggers all of his Rachel shorthand. The years flash through his chest and send a twinge of that pesky and persistent want through every last nerve. “Going on?” he sputters, trying to reel his thoughts back to here and now. “Going on how—going on where? What do you mean, going on?”

“You know.” Joe’s voice gets all caught up in Matt’s flustered beat, and now they’re both off their usual rhythm. “C’mon, don’t—you know. I’m talking about that, I dunno, Sam and Diane thing you’ve got going with her.”

Matt officially doesn't recognize the shape of this conversation. Talking to Joe is always supposed to look and feel the same way, but this is something new. Matt’s not sure he cares for it. “Sam and Diane?” His nose twists up. “Who are you and what have you done with Joe?”

“Oh, lay off,” Joe drones. “NBC stuck a Cheers marathon at the end of the Orioles game, and the remote is on the other side of the room.”

What? “Since when do you watch the Orioles?”

“Since I broke my foot jumping onto a moving train and my buddy left me alone to go chase the Circle, apparently,” he says. “What are you, the TV police?”

“So you admit your foot is broken.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry.” He thrashes around for a way to save the conversation, but he feels like a batter who’s just been told to run the bases backward. The best he can do is land back where Joe started and try to hit what’s getting pitched to him. “Sam and Diane. I’m supposed to be Sam?”

“You’re not Diane, are you?”

“Sam Malone is a pitcher.”

“That’s your problem with Sam Malone?” says Joe. “Not that he’s a drunk, and a fool, and a womanizer?”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

“Okay.” Joe accepts a small defeat in this tangential argument to take another shot at the one he actually cares about. “Well, I can’t tell you how you feel about Rachel—not least because I don’t know how you stand in the same room as that woman without wanting to punch your own lights out. She’s abrasive, and prideful, and she starts fights like she’s got stock in them.”

“Right,” says Matt, because this part of the conversation is straight over home plate. Joe doesn’t like Rachel. Sure. It’s so familiar, Matt could hit it straight out of the park.

“But,” Joe continues, and it’s got all the signs of a curve ball. “I can tell you that there’s no such thing as coincidences, especially not when it comes to Rachel. If she’s wrapped up in Circle dealings, it’s not because she’s going after them. It’s because she’s trying to cover you.”

Swing, and a miss.

It’s the same thing Grace had said, not even a full day earlier. She’s saving your ass, darling. From Grace, it had come at him from the outside, striking the surface of his awareness as something to take note of at some future date. When Joe says it, the sentiment starts at his center and climbs his guts like a cliff side. It’s urgent and suspended, old Circle calluses now shredded with fresh fears.

Of course Rachel is covering him. That’s what Rachel does. She covers Abby. She covers her father. And now she’s covering him, even if she has to do it blindly.

Don’t you care about me?

Of course I do.

Of course you do.

“Dammit,” Matt spits, low and resigned. It’s all Joe needs from him, but he throws in a bonus, “Goddammit,” for good measure. “She’s smarter than this.”

“Or just smart enough,” Joe amends. “For years, she’s been chipping away at you, trying to figure out what we’re up to. Maybe she decided she was better off coming at it from a different angle. It’s kind of impressive.”

“Yeah, well.” There’s a pulse in Matt’s jaw, right where his teeth grind together. “She’s an impressive kinda lady.”

“Get her out of there.”

“I know.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“I know.”

Moscow has never felt so massive. Hours away from any border and even further from a friendly one, the vastness of the USSR stretches out in every direction. It’s one thing to risk his own hide with Circle business in the East. It’s another thing entirely to risk Rachel’s. The danger of it settles like a Russian winter down his spine, and all of a sudden he’s got an urge like he’s never had before, to run, run, run, with her hand clasped in his.

For the very first time, Matt has a top-down view of the complete playing field, while Rachel’s stuck strategizing from the bullpen. She’s too close to it. Too far in. The next call has to be his, and it has to be right. “Listen,” he says to Joe, and now he’s serious too. “Tonight. We were working the op and I saw a friend of yours.”

Matt’s got Townsend at his back. Passports in the bedroom. A redheaded agent who would do anything to get her package back. A plan begins to form in the back of his mind, rough around the edges but strong at its core. He’s got all the leverage he needs to help Joe. To call the Circle off Rachel’s scent. To put the focus back where it should be—on him. Only him. He started this fight, and he won’t have anyone else stepping in to take his punches. 

Joe takes a beat. There’s not a single sound on his end of the line. “I don’t have friends,” he says. “I’ve just got you.”

“The redhead,” Matt goes on. “From Wrigley.”

Now it’s Joe’s turn to let out a soft, “Dammit.”

“Do you have any idea what she’s doing—?”

“No.” He’s just short of a snarl. “This is the opposite of laying low.”

“You told her to lay low?”

“For a little while,” Joe confirms. “She got herself into some hot water a few months back, and she’s had to take some sketchy jobs to get out of it.”

“Yeah, I think I just walked into the middle of one.”

“She’s in Moscow?”

“Joe,” Matt says. “She’s delivering the damn passports.”

In the silence that follows, Matt finds space to wonder about an old question he’s never quite gotten an answer to. He’s always known about this girl—that she’s out there, that she’s working both sides, that she’s one of the few people Joe knows from his days with the Circle. But every time Matt brings her up, even as a possible Circle lead, Joe shuts him down. Waves him off. She’s not a threat, he’d say, and then move on. Matt doesn’t know how much they still work together. Doesn’t even know her name.

“She recognized me,” Matt continues. “Said we were on the same side—”

“You are not on the same side as her.”

“Someone ought to tell her that.”

“Fine.”

If Joe thinks this is the end of this conversation, he’s sorely mistaken. “Joe,” he says, as gently as he can muster. “Have you ever considered that maybe she’s—?”

“She’s not the leak.”

“How do you—?”

“Because I’m the one that leaks everything to her.”

This is the closest thing to background Matt’s ever gotten on the girl, so he keys in and listens up while Joe’s still in a talking mood. “She’s a go-between,” Joe admits. “An agent on the front lines. She’s got two jobs—deliver whatever information I’ve stolen, and don’t get caught. And they don’t tell her a damn thing, just in case she fails that second one.” Matt waits for more to come. After an uncomfortable moment, it does. “The Circle paired us together five years ago. But when I... when we—I started to slow down, and she had to find other work.”

Something clicks in Matt’s mind. “Which could explain why she’s in Moscow.”

“Whatever work she’s doing over there, I don’t know who’s giving it to her.”

“How about we find out?” Matt tries. “Can you get a message to her?”

“You’ve got bigger problems, cowboy.”

“I think I can hit two birds with one stone, on this one.”

If a fella spends enough time listening to phone lines, sooner or later he picks up the ability to hear beyond the background noise, and straight into the core of the call. That’s how Matt hears the hitched apprehension in Joe’s breath, the debate in the static, and the always subtle truth about Joe Solomon—that he wants out of the Circle more than he wants anything else. More than he wants Matt to come home safe. More than he wants Rachel out of Moscow. More than he wants his redheaded partner to lay low.

It’s begrudging, but Joe finally says, “What’s the message?”

Matt passes along a time and a place. In the reflection, Townsend’s eyes flash over the top of his paper, then quickly return to the act of performative reading. That’s fine. Matt’s not stupid enough to meet this girl without backup—the kid’s coming with him.

“And Matt?” Joe says. “Just… take it easy on her. She’s really not a threat.”

As someone who still has a thin, silver scar on his shoulder from where her bullet grazed him, Matt’s inclined to disagree. But he trusts Joe, and Joe trusts her, so maybe that’s enough for now. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay.”

“And think about what I said,” he goes on. “About Rachel.”

“Right.” That’s enough of that. “Maybe I’ll call Henry, too. See if he knows anything.”

“About Rachel?”

“About where your friend is finding this extra work.”

“That makes more sense,” says Joe. “Don’t ask Henry about the Rachel thing.”

“Really don’t plan on it,” Matt insists. “Let me know about the deposit box.”

“Already on my way.”

Matt can think of at least a dozen more requests—record the Royals game, pick up some milk, go to a doctor, check on his parents just in case. But the shower isn’t running anymore, Townsend’s reached the end of his pages, and this call was never truly covert to begin with. 

Still, Matt has one more question that he just can’t seem to shake. “Joe?” he says. “What’s her name?”

It takes Joe long enough to answer that Matt wonders if Joe’s already hung up, and he’s talking into dead air. “Her name is Catherine,” he finally says. “Catherine Goode.”

[palmviewfm]

mw counterparts?

this  list  got  a  little  bit  longer  than  anticipated.  as  there's  soooooo  many  counterparts  to  consider  choosing  from  !  so,  i  put  it  under  a  read  more  for  you  !

counterparts:  monica  geller, ross geller, joey  tribbiani,  chandler bing, janice litman, mike hannigan, ursula buffay, aria  montgomery,  emily  fields,  spencer  hastings,  mona  vanderwaal,  alison  dilaurentis,  caleb  rivers,  maya  st  germain,  toby  cavanaugh,  betty  cooper,  veronica  lodge,  cheryl  blossom,  archie  andrews,  reggie  mantle,  toni  topaz,  tabitha  tate,  quinn  fabray,  rachel  berry,  brittany  pierce,  olivia  baker,  layla  keating,  jordan  baker,  jaymee, spencer  james,  lucas  scott,  peyton  sawyer, brooke  davis,  quinn  james,  julian  baker,  anna taggaro, rachel  gatina,  blair  waldorf,  serena  van  der  woodsen,  dan  humphrey,  nate  archibald,  callie  adams  foster,  mariana  foster,  buffy  summers,  willow  rosenberg,  tara mclay, kendra young, faith  lehane,  cordelia  chase,  heather  mcnamara,  marissa  cooper,  summer  roberts,  seth  cohen,  angel, anya jenkins, ryan  atwood,  taylor  townsend,  elena  gilbert,  caroline  forbes,  bonnie  bennett,  stefan  salvatore, anna zhu, enzo  st  john,  sandy  olson,  betty  rizzo,  frenchy,  danny  zuko,  marty, jan, sonny,  jackie  burkhart,  donna  pinciotti,  eric  forman,  laurie  forman,  belly  conklin,  sloane  peterson,  ferris  bueller,  duckie  dale,  bianca  stratford,  kat  stratford,  patrick  verona,  mia thermopolis, sabrina spellman, harvey kinkle, libby chessler, barbie  roberts,  ken  carson,  jenna  rink,  allie  hamilton,  noah  calhoun,  brandon  walsh,  david  silver,  brenda  walsh,  kelly  taylor,  donna  martin,  conrad  fisher,  jeremiah  fisher,  steven  cokin,  taylor  jewel,  sarah  cameron,  jj  maybank,  john  b  routledge,  kiara  carerra,  pope  heywood,  cleo, topper  thornton,  prue  halliwell,  paige  matthews,  piper  halliwell,  phoebe  halliwell,  meredith  grey,  arizona  robbins,  jackson  avery,  callie  torres,  april  kepner,  derek  shephard,  alex  karev,  cristina  yang,  lizzie  stevens,  callie  torres,  jo  wilson,  addison  montgomery,  lexi  grey,  atticus  lincoln,  nancy  drew,  lucy  grey,  sam  montgomery,  austin  ames,  jen  lindley,  pacey  witter,  dawson  leery,  katherine  pierce,  rebekah  mikaelson,  hayley  marshall,  tatum  riley,  sidney  prescott,  casey  becker,  tara  carpenter,  samantha  carpenter,  beca  mitchell,  chloe  beale,  jessica  day,  winston schmidt, cece  parekh, laney  boggs,  dewey  riley,  gale  weathers,  georgina  sparks,  elle  woods,  francesca  bridgerton,  daphne  bridgerton,  penelope  featherington,  sookie  stackhouse,  karen  smith,  regina  george,  gretchen  weiners,  janis  ian,  cady  heron,  aaron  samuels,  dj  tanner,  stephanie  tanner,  marcia  brady,  cindy  brady,  greg  brady,  carrie  bradshaw,  cher  horowitz,  kirby  reed,  jim  halpert,  michael  scott,  kelly  kapoor,  pam  beesly,  peter  parker,  mary  jane  watson,  analise  keating,  olivia  pope,  tony  stonem,  effy  stonem,  joey  donner,  john  bender,  allison  argent,  scott  mccall,  lydia  martin,  olive  penderghast,  maggie  greene,  marty  mcfly,  bella  swan,  alice  cullen,  charlie  swan,  emmett  cullen,  jacob  black,  carlisle  cullen,  esme  cullen,  jane  volturi,  morticia  addams,  donna  and  sophie  sheridan,  lorraine  banes,  jennifer  parker,  sam  winchester,  luke  danes,  dean  forester,  tristan  dugray,  lane  kim,  paris  geller,  logan  huntzberger,  jeanie  bueller,  simon  basset,  kate  sharma,  colin  bridgerton,  shiv  roy,  gerri  kellman,  roman  roy,  olivia  benson,  clary  fray,  isabelle  lightwood,  jace  herondale,  simon  lewis,  daphne  blake,  shaggy  rogers,  velma  dinkley,  fred  jones,  cinderella, ariel, tiana, jasmine, tom  wambsgans,  kendall  roy,  greg  hirsch,  lestat  de  lioncourt,  louis  de  point  du  lac,  and  claudia  !

[sporadiceagleheart]

James Radley Mattioli, Daniel Conner Mauser, Sophie Jane “Soph” Lockwood-North, Chase Michael-Anthony Kowalski, Matthew Joseph “Matt” Kechter, Stephanie Dawn Johnson, Ross William Irvine, Dylan Christopher Jack Hockley, Steven Robert “Steve” Curnow, Rachel Joy Scott, Hannah Louise Scott, William David “Dave” Sanders, Reema Joseph Samaha, Daniel Lee “Danny” Rohrbough, Noah Samuel Pozner, Jack Armistead Pinto, John Alexander Petrie, Anne Marie McGowan Murphy, Daniel Vincent Parmertor, Brett McKinnon, James Radley Mattioli, Daniel Conner Mauser, Benjamin Andrew “Ben” Wheeler, Kyle Albert Velasquez, Britthney Ryen Varner-Wilson, Megan Turner, Lauren Dawn “Lulu” Townsend, John Robert Tomlin, Araceli “Ara” Tena, Victoria Leigh “Vicki” Soto, Jeremiah Small, Isaiah Eamon “Bushwick” Shoels, Mary Joy Greene Sherlach, Allison Noelle “Allie” Wyatt, Shannon Dawn Williams Wright,

[enparallel]

Coincidences

Thanks to this ficlet I had a pressing need to go read some Sylvia Townsend Warner. My library has Winter in the Air, so that's what I'm reading.

The very next day I read Danny Lavery's discussion of For Sylvia, containing the story of how Sylvia left her partner Valentine in her ancestral home in order to make space for another lover:

From Valentine:

I write this on a day when I have heard that at any time now another one I love will come to live with me here, in this house where Sylvia and I have lived for twelve years together ... I do not know how this new thing has come about, nor whether it is the work of heaven or hell. I cannot, for more than a moment at a time, realize what it will be like to be here without Sylvia — or anywhere without Sylvia. But I have a conviction that this must be tried; although it is so dangerous that I can scarcely dare measure it even in my fancy.

Danny further quotes Sylvia writing to a friend that the arrangement is a strategic response to her distress, that she leaves with "something more calculating than hope and more tremulous than reason." It works, anyway; Sylvia and Valentine are reunited in about a month.

The title story in Winter In the Air is about a woman named Barbara who has just abandoned the country house where she has lived with her husband for twelve years, because a person called Annelies is coming:

'But why?' she had asked. 'Why must she come and live with you? I thought it was all over, months ago.' 'So did I." 'But Annelies doesn't. Is that it?' 'She is so wretched,' he had said. 'So desperately, incompetently wretched. I can't let her go on suffering like this.'

Barbara moves to London, back to the flat and her friends of twelve years ago. She writes her husband to report her safe arrival, pondering on the task of writing letters of obligation:

One's handwriting sagged down the page as if from weariness, the words 'nice' and 'jolly' dogged one from sentence to sentence, and with every recommencement of gratitude the festivities became more irrevocably over and done with...Yet what she wanted to say to Willie was clear enough...that speech in The Winter's Tale: To me life can be no commodity; the crown and comfort of my life, your favour I do give list, for I do feel it gone, Yet know not how it went ...

I think a ghost manifested biographical context.

[movienized-com]

The Regime

The Regime (Mini-Serie 2024) #KateWinslet #MatthiasSchoenaerts #GuillaumeGallienne #AndreaRiseborough #MarthaPlimpton #HughGrant Mehr auf:

Mini-serie / The Palace Jahr: 2024 Genre: Drama Hauptrollen: Kate Winslet, Matthias Schoenaerts, Guillaume Gallienne, Andrea Riseborough, Martha Plimpton, Hugh Grant, Danny Webb, David Bamber, Henry Goodman, Stanley Townsend, Louie Mynett, Rory Keenan, Karl Markovics, Pippa Haywood … Serienbeschreibung: In Mitteleuropa existiert ein autoritär regiertes Land, an dessen Spitze die enigmatische…

[c0ckedgun]

MUZZLED GUARD DOG FOR A DARK GOD

[krispyweiss]

Song Review: James Taylor - “Honey, Don’t Leave L.A.” (Live, July 18, 1979)

If “Honey, Don’t Leave L.A.” doesn’t sound like a song James Taylor would’ve written, there’s a good reason for that.

His guitarist Danny Kortchmar penned the J.T. track. And the song’s author hammed it up onstage with Taylor when the band played his number July 18, 1979, in Ohio. Strangely, it’s not Kortchmar, but saxophonist David Sunborn, who gets an extra-long solo spot on this professional video plucked from Taylor’s vault.

Lyrically, it’s not up to Taylor’s high standards. But the shallow “Honey, Don’t Leave L.A.” does rock - enough that Taylor ends it with a Pete Townsend-worthy high jump.

Grade card: James Taylor - “Honey, Don’t Leave L.A.” (Live - 7/18/79) - B

8/25/23

[screencapsontherun]

Evil | 1.03 "3 Stars"

[theultimatefan]

‘Lord of the Rings,’ 'Terminator,' 'Charmed’ Q&As Among Top Programming at FAN EXPO New Orleans

From celebrity Q&As to industry, cosplay, gaming, anime and entertaining, informative sessions from all areas of pop culture, FAN EXPO New Orleans presents its collection of nearly 150 programming panels and meetups during the event, Friday through Sunday, January 5-7 at the Ernest N. Morial Convention Center. There’s truly something for every fan and every taste every hour of the show into the evening throughout all three days of the convention, right until Sunday’s 5 p.m. finish.

FAN EXPO New Orleans celebrity guests such as Lord of the Rings standouts Elijah Wood, Sean Astin, Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan, The Terminator franchise cast members Linda Hamilton, Michael Biehn, Lance Henriksen, Robert Patrick and Edward Furlong, “Charmed” duo of Holly Marie Combs and Rose McGowan, "Daredevil" tandem of Charlie Cox and Vincent D'Onofrio, “Star Trek” standouts Sonequa Martin-Green (“Star Trek: Discovery”), Michelle Hurd (“Star Trek: Picard”) and Jonathan Frakes (“Star Trek: The Next Generation,” among others), Jon Bernthal (“The Punisher,” “The Walking Dead”), Sean Gunn (Guardians of the Galaxy, “Avengers: Infinity War”), Bruce Campbell (The Evil Dead, “Burn Notice”), Danny Trejo (Machete, The Book of Boba Fett), Randy Quaid (National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, Kingpin) and, Katee Sackhoff (Star Wars’ “The Mandalorian”) will conduct individual and group interactive sessions with fans, headlining the slate.

There are dozens of informative, entertaining panels by superstar creators as well as cosplay, gaming, trivia, film, horror and other pop culture themed sessions.

Fans can review the entire event schedule at fanexpohq.com/fanexponeworleans/schedule/. Most panels are free with event admission. Just a few of the highlights include:

Friday:

5 p.m., Too Many to Count! All the Voices of Tara Strong, Theater #2

5:45 p.m., Charmed Ones: Spotlight on Holly Marie Combs and Rose McGowan, Main Theater

6 p.m., Playing with Power! Chainsaw Man’s Sarah Wiedenheft Q+A, Anime Theater

6 p.m., The Backstory of Beetlejuice, Fandom Panels Room 271

6:15 p.m., Spider-Man Psychology: Untangling Webs with Alex Langley, Gordon Schmidt and Travis Langley, Theater #3

6:45 p.m., Turtle Power! Meet the Voices of “TMNT,” Barry Gordon (“Donatello”), Cam Clarke (“Leonardo”), Townsend Coleman (“Michelangelo”) and Rob Paulsen (“Raphael”), Main Theater

7 p.m., The State of Fandom with The Weekend Geeks, Creator Stage

Saturday:

11 a.m., The Overlook Film Festival, Theater #3

11 a.m., Let’s Get Some Shoes: Cosplay Footwear!, Cosplay Panels Room 274

11 a.m., Taking over the World with Rob Paulsen and Maurice LaMarche, Theater #2

11:30 a.m., 100 Years of Magic: Century of the Walt Disney Company, Fandom Panels Room 271

11:45 a.m., Women of Sci-Fi with Sonequa Martin-Green, Felicia Day and Michelle Hurd, Main Theater

12 p.m., Vamanos: Meet Kathleen Herles, Theater #2

12:30 p.m., The Man without Fear: The Legacy of Marvel’s Daredevil, Fandom Panels Room 271

12:45 p.m., Being Badass with Katee Sackhoff, Main Theater

1 p.m., From Kirk to Kraglin: Spotlight on Sean Gunn, Theater #2

1:15 p.m., Fandom Traveler Trivia, Worshops Room 270

1:45 p.m., Born Again: Meet Charlie Cox and Vincent D’Onofrio, Main Theater

2 p.m., Sketch Duel: Tom Grummett vs. John Delaney, Creator Stage

2 p.m., Take a Vacation with Randy Quaid, Theater #2

2:45 p.m., What’s the Buzz with Juliette Lewis, Main Theater

3 p.m., Whatchu Love? FAN EXPO New Orleans Cosplayers, Creator Stage

4:15 p.m., Crafting Captivating Comic Book Covers with Clay Mann, Cary Nord, Stephen Platt, and Sway Swaby, Theater #3

5 p.m., All Hail Lana Parrilla, Theater #2

5:30 p.m., Horror Films of 2023, Fandom Panels Room 271

5:45 p.m., The FAN EXPO New Orleans Cosplay Craftsmanship Cup, Main Theater

6 p.m., My Name is Earl: Meet Jason Lee and Ethan Suplee, Theater #2

6 p.m., Why is Anime so Good? It’s the Characters, Dude, Anime Theater

6:15 p.m., Crescent City Paranormal: The Psychology of Ghosts, Theater #3

7:30 p.m., The Four Hobbits: An Unexpected Reunion, Main Theater (general admission free, upgraded experiences available)

8:30 p.m., Rocky Horror Picture Show Shadowcast (18+) with Sweet Sensation Shadowcast & Productions, Theater #3

Sunday:

10:45 a.m., Astonishing Adventures with Sean Astin, Main Theater

11 a.m., FAN EXPO New Orleans Kids’ Cosplay Contest, Cosplay Red Carpet

11 a.m., Let’s Fight over the Best Pokémon with YouTube Content Creator Abdallah, Creator Stage

11:45 a.m., The Man, the Myth, the Legend: Spotlight on Danny Trejo, Main Theater

12 p.m., On Screen to IRL: Translating Characters to Cosplay, Cosplay Panels Room 274

12 p.m., Voices of Gaming with Maggie Robertson, Steve Downes and Xander Mobus, Theater #2

12:15 p.m., Nerdy Women Taking over the World, Workshops Room 270

12:45 p.m., All About Ahsoka with Eman Esfandi and Diana Lee Inosanto, Main Theater

1 p.m., Geeking out with Felician Day, Theater #2

1 p.m., You’re Yor! Spy x Family Q&A with Natalie Van Sistine, Anime Theater

1:45 p.m., One Batch, Two Batch with Jon Bernthal, Main Theater

2 p.m., Devil Hunters! Chainsaw Main Cast Q&A with Ryan Colt Levy, Reagan Murdock, and Sarah Wiedenheft

2:45 p.m., Boldly Go with Johnathan Frakes and Michelle Hurd, Main Theater

3 p.m., Robots in Disguise with Peter Cullen and Frank Welker

3 p.m., Cosplay Your Way!, Cosplay Panels Room 274

3:15 p.m., Horror Entertainment: We Know what Scares You – and Why!, Theater #3

3:45 p.m., A Groovy Panel with Bruce Campbell, Main Theater

FAN EXPO New Orleans features the biggest and best in pop culture: movies, TV, music, artists, writers, exhibitors, cosplay, with three full days of themed programming to satisfy every fandom. New Orleans is the first event on the 2024 FAN EXPO HQ calendar; the full schedule is available at fanexpohq.com/home/events/.

[nikkiruncks]

What I will be doing with characters in the black hole:

Bruce (TNG seasons 8-9; recurring 7) - Will be recurring in season 10-11, have a growth arc, maybe a mention that he used to crush on Johnny

Derek Haig (TNG seasons 7-8; recurring 5-6) - Offhand mention from Danny that he was expelled

Leia Chang (TNG seasons 8-10) - I don’t even think I’ll have her a character.

Blue Chessex (TNG seasons 8-9) - He moved out of Toronto

Wesley Betenkamp (TNG seasons 10-11; guest 9) - graduated early

Dave Turner (TNG seasons 9-13) - Changed schools

Winnie Oh (TNG seasons 10-13) - gets fired for having an inappropriate relationship with a student

Jack Jones (TNG seasons 13-14) - I think I’ll have her stay tbh. Show her coming out to her parents, making friends, etc.

Recurring Characters

Kendra Mason (TNG seasons 2-3) - She stays in Degrassi but her break up with Toby still happens. Her feelings about being adopted and her Chinese heritage will be explored more. Her relationship with Spinner will be up and down because of the shooting. She will be besties with Danny and Jane as well :). Will also give her an epic romance (similar to janny and jiberty)

Robert Kerwin (TNG seasons 1-4) - Ashley and Toby would mention him here and there.

Jeff Isaacs (TNG season 1-2) - Few small appearances and mentions.

Chris Sharpe (TNG seasons 3-4) - Mentioned that he left the school.

Lucas Valieri (TNG seasons 7-8) - He’d be shown looking after Mia and hanging around Jane.

Mark Fitzgerald (TNG seasons 9-10) - Living his life, moved on from Clare.

Sadie Rowland (TNG season 10-11) - Switched schools idk.

Laura Kwan (TNG seasons 1-9) - Will stay on.

Jess Martello (TNG seasons 10-11) - TBD

Hannah Belmont (TNG seasons 10-11) - Also graduated early. Idk.

Julian (TNG seasons 10-11) - Graduated

Liam Berish (TNG season 11) - TBD

Ms. Dawes (TNG seasons 8-11) - In s12, helping Eli with the play <3

Asher Shostak (TNG season 12) - Shown to be arrested

Chantel Sauvé (TNG seasons 2-10) - Keeping her on

Mike Betenkamp (TNG season 10-11) - Keeping him on

Keisha (TNG season 13) - TBD

Mr. Townsend (TNG season 12-13) - TBD

Caroline Nash (TNG seasons 3-4) - Will show her trying to be a better mom to Ellie and will be there at graduation.

Arlene Takahashi (TNG season 14) - Will keep her in Next Class to be with Hunter for a bit.

Damon Carter (TNG seasons 11-14) - Will be in Next Class

Rick Munro (DJH seasons 1-2) - Have him in the reunion episode

Max (DJH-DH) - TBD

Susie Rivera (DJH seasons 1-2)- Gets counseling, continues djh and stays for dh. Graduates, moves away, etc.

Minor Characters

Patrick (DH Seasons 1-2) - Transfers out

Towerz (TNG season 3) - Moves away

Chester Hosada-Bloom (TNG season 4) - Revealed to have moved away

Amy Peters-Hoffman (TNG season 3-4) - Same as Chester

Nadia Yamir (TNG season 2-3) - Stays at degrassi, graduates.

Sully (TNG season 2-3) - Graduates idk. One last mention ig.

Nora (TNG season 6) - Dates Toby but then they break up when she sees him with Holly J.

(This’ll take a while so I just started with a few)

[gacmediadaily]

A holiday movie franchise that got its start at Hallmark is moving to Great American Family.

Michael and Janeen Damian, who were responsible for Hallmark’s 2020 film The Christmas Waltz that starred Lacey Chabert and Will Kemp, will produce a sequel for Great American Family’s Great American Christmas programming block. Dubbed Paris Christmas Waltz, the new holiday flick will star Matthew Morrison (Glee) and Jen Lilley (B&B Merry, Days of Our Lives).

It was shot on location in Paris and promises to “sweep viewers into the magic of the city’s most iconic destinations.” In Paris Christmas Waltz, Emma (Lilley) relinquishes her job so a colleague with a family will keep his. Contemplating life’s next steps, Emma meets a professional dancer, Leo (Morrison), whose love for competitive dancing is waning, until a once in a lifetime opportunity arises for the novice to join the pro and sweep all of Paris off of its feet.

Great American Christmas returns Oct. 21 with new holiday movie premieres every Saturday and Sunday and 24/7 Christmas movies through the end of the year. 

Michael Damian, who is best known for his role as Danny Romalotti on The Young and the Restless, has collaborated on 17 original movies with his wife Janeen, including the highest-rated holiday film of 2020, The Christmas Waltz. The prolific team wrote all 17 films together with Michael Damian directing all except Falling for Christmas and Irish Wish, which Janeen Damian helmed.

The pair is also behind the Great American Christmas hit of 2021, A Hot Cocoa Christmas.

Paris Christmas Waltz is executive produced by Brad Krevoy, Amy Krell, Jimmy Townsend, and Lorenzo Nardini. Janeen Damian produces. Michael Damian directs from an original screenplay by Janeen Damia.