#maybe a breast reduction is the right call for me?

[mxwhore]

the tess is now seriously gettimg da top surgery

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Like my new work uniform? I bet you all just love seeing me go through this and be degraded into a simple office whore. All of my professors and former colleagues never miss the chance to like and comment on my posts since the company merger. I was the Lead Corporate Sales Analyst for three years. Highly respected despite my formerly huge breasts. We got bought out in a high-profile merger and suddenly every woman is demoted to being an office whore.

We weren't given any notice. We were lined up, forced to strip naked in front of the new CEO as he commented on our bodies. He walked up to me and put my gorgeous, natural 34JJ breasts in his hands. He squeezed them and fondled them, lifting them. I asked if they were to his liking. He smiled and said they were perfect. He asked me if I liked being so big breasted. I nodded a bunch and told him of course I loved having such big boobs. He dropped them, his grin widening. He called his assistant over, the only woman in formal wear, an Asian girl with a big pregnant belly in a skimpy skirt/suit combo, barefoot. He told his assistant to schedule me for a breast reduction, to tell the surgeon to make my boobs as small as he can. The assistant smiled, saying 'right away!'

I was rushed into surgery that day to have my gorgeous, fat jiggly tits almost flattened, taken down to an A-Cup. Totally the most humiliating part of this whole thing! Once I recovered I was given this uniform, told that my job is to walk the office, offering my body to guests. All the men have a bell they can hit in their cubicle or office, and I have to run around and tend to anyone who rung their bells, sucking them off or getting fucked. Whatever they want. No contraceptives, so we have to get pregnant and stay that way. The boss wants our bellies as big as possible, just as all women ought to be, he reminds us.

The girls that are too pregnant to walk are temporarily promoted to being toilets, put in the restroom to get pissed on or shit on, and we have to clean the men with our mouths. I'm already getting really good at drinking piss, though! Lots of my coworkers, er, superiors make me drink it when they call me to their desks so going to the bathroom doesn't hurt productivity. I can't wait until I'm massively pregnant and I get to be a toilet full time, at least for a while. Until then the goal is to take loads of fertility drugs so your pregnancy immobilizes you sooner. Just a fun way to boost morale and get ahead in the company. Not sure if girls are offered anything above toilet, though? Hmmm, maybe they'll ship us to a girl farm or sell us to a foreign cartel harem? A girl can dream, can't she? I guess you can say success is my biggest motivator..... Well, that and serving as many cocks a day as possible, of course! ❤️"

[zepskies]

Hey, I’ve really enjoyed reading your imagines. Would you be up for writing one where either Dean / Solider Boy / Beau, I don’t mind, has done something to upset/piss off the reader and goes out his way to make it up to her and then it’s all fluffy? I’m definitely in the readers position right now and hoping that’s what’s happening! Thank you.

Hey lovely anon!

Ooh this is interesting. So you didn't exactly ask for this, but this is where my mind went. I really enjoyed doing an imagine called "How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to seeing your breast reduction scars."

So I'm going to do this one in that style...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Tags/Warnings: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, fluff

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would make up for pissing you off.

Dean Winchester

Readers of Devour Me will recognize this scenario...

Dean can be an asshole sometimes. He knows it, but that side of him tends to come out along with his protective side.

He gave you...what you would consider a "firm suggestion" on a hunt. In his mind, it was a warning you were meant to follow: hang back.

The vampire nest was bigger than you guys expected.

You jumped in to save the woman they were keeping chained...but she was already drained dry. A vamp caught you, but before you could swing your knife, hot teeth sank into your neck.

Your scream rang through the air, tearing from your throat.

Dean's machete soon followed, killing the vampire and saving you in the process. He hid the depths of his worry. His fear, when he heard your scream, saw the monster bearing on you.

He buried the true depths of that turmoil and later holds you while Cas heals you. You thank him with a sigh and look up at Dean. Before you can apologize for ignoring his warning, his words simultaneously cut you to the bone and spark a blaze:

"I hope you learned your damn lesson," he says.

"Excuse me?" you hotly reply.

"You fucking heard me! When I say 'hang back,' I mean it. Hang the hell back."

"I've been hunting long before I met you, Dean."

"Yeah, well. Color me surprised that you've made it this long."

And that sparks the knock-down drag-out fight you and Dean have in the dirty, blood-splattered barn in the middle of nowhere. Even Sam and Cas are uncomfortable in the midst of you and Dean as they deal with the bodies of the vamps.

You don't let Dean touch you that night, even though you two still share the same bed. You sleep turned away from him, curled in on yourself.

He doesn't know how to make you understand. The sight of you with blood covering your neck and shoulder, running down over and under your shirt...

He hates it more than anything.

Even in the morning, the memory of your scream rings in his ears.

You've woken up before him, leaving your side of the bed empty. He wanders into the kitchen and finds you with your cup of coffee, stirring the creamer in for far too long. He watches you for a moment. He sees you're lost in thought. Maybe your eyes are a bit haunted.

He hates that too.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets. His voice is still a deep rumble, but his gentleness is an olive branch.

You recognize that, and your own features soften. The truth is, you're too upset and spent to be angry anymore. You really just need him back.

He guides you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead, and sighs.

"...Look, I'm sorry," he says. He's grateful, even for this moment. Because it means you're safe, with him.

"I'm sorry too," you reply. You squeeze him tighter and bury your face in his chest. "I love you."

Dean hesitates. His heart clenches, both with warmth and the fear of what could have been. He lets out another deep breath as his fingers soothe through your hair.

"Love you too."

Beau Arlen

Don't let that adorable scruff fool you. Beau has his moments, just like everyone else...

You don't want to feel like the jealous "other woman." Because that certainly isn't what you are.

You and Beau have been dating for a while now. You know this is something special. He is special. A big-hearted man who leads by example, and makes his daughter a priority in his life.

You admire that more than anything. You've come to love Emily as well...

However, he's been consistently cancelling on you. Dates you'd planned, dinners you'd made, "office picnics" at the precinct that got rain-checked more than the goddamn weather channel.

It seems like any time you and Beau try to carve out a moment for each other, it gets waylaid by something that "just can't wait."

Sometimes it's due to the demands of his job (which you understand).

But more often, it's because he seems to drop everything to heed his ex-wife's requests, large and small. From moving boxes in downsizing her house, to picking up her dry cleaning.

Carla always laces her requests (demands) with something understandable, like dropping off Emily at school. As a lawyer, she's smart like that.

But you're smart too, and you see her game.

She's slowly but surely wrapping Beau around her finger, and it's driving you insane.

"Can't you see she's manipulating you?!" you finally ask him. Your hands gesture widely, your brows are knitted together, and so are Beau's. His mouth is pressed in a line.

"The hell do you mean?" he asks.

"Exactly what I'm saying," you retort. "She asks you to jump, and you say, How high, darlin'?"

Part of him wants to smile at your exaggerated Texan approximation of him. But mostly, he's irritated.

"That's not true! I'm just trying to do right by her. She's the mother of my kid--"

Your hand presses against your forehead.

"I know that, Beau. Of course I do," you say. Against your will, your deepest fears take hold. They make you feel ugly inside for thinking them, let alone saying them.

"But...either she wants you back, or maybe you want her."

Beau's frown deepens. "What? What're you talkin' about."

He tries to grab your hand, but you evade him. You cross your arms to give you the excuse you need to hold yourself together.

He blows out a frustrated breath and shakes his head. "She left me, remember?"

"Things change. Feelings change," you say hotly. Your eyes run over his face, as if trying to search his heart.

Beau finally understands just what you're thinking. He softens.

And then his expression firms.

"Not for me," he says.

He reaches for you. You allow him to grasp your elbows. He steps closer into your line of vision until his broad frame is all you can see, but you refuse to look up at him. Not until his curled finger prods under your chin, raising your face up to his.

His face lacks the jovial nature he usually carries, with a side of teasing that usually drives you crazy and lightens your heart in equal measure.

No. Right now, he's serious. His thumb grazes your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

Your eyes are lowered, with unshed tears swimming in them. Until Beau presses his lips to your cheek. Your eyes close, and you take in the tenderness of his touch. The smell of his cologne.

When you next open your eyes, he's smiling softly down at you. It leads you to smile a little.

"It'd be nice if you didn't cancel on me so much then," you can't help but mutter, a bit petulantly.

Beau's smile slips a bit. "I sure am sorry about that. And I'll talk to Carla. But uh..."

The rest of his good humor fades. "She mentioned something about taking Emily back to Houston."

Your eyes widen. Your hand moves to grip his wrist. "What?"

"I guess I was just...tryin' to butter her up a bit. If she settled in that new house, had everything she needed, maybe she'd stop thinking about leaving," he admits. "I want her to do what's best for Emily, but...I don't know if I can take it if she's in a whole other state."

You bite your lip. You try to soothe him with your fingers carding through his hair. You pull him into your embrace, and the roles of comfort reverse.

"You do need to talk to Carla," you say. "But I want to help, in whatever way I can. You just let me know."

You can't see it, but Beau smiles as he holds you a fraction tighter.

"You already are."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ugh, this (lovable) bastard...

There are a lot of opportunities to piss you off, and Ben has a habit of taking them.

He's protective, misogynistic (though you're surely trying with him), and doesn't give two shits about modern social protocols like tolerance and respect.

Nor does he give a fuck about being "nice" or "pleasant" if he doesn't want to. (And he never wants to.)

When he pisses you off, however, you have to pick your battles.

You're as patient as you can be with him, knowing all of his idiosyncrasies and foibles as well as you've come to learn them.

But when he nearly snaps a man's arm off for grabbing your ass in a musky club, you have to draw the line.

(Ben settled for jabbing the man in the face, hard enough to toss him back into an entire row of glasses. You'd winced at the man's scream of pain as glass shattered into his back.)

When you send your boyfriend a look, he's both unfazed and unapologetic.

"What, would you rather have that greasy fuck pawing all over you? No one's gonna have the balls to cop a feel right in front of me, unless they want 'em shoved up their ass."

You make a face of disgust, roll your eyes, and angrily storm out of the club. Ben follows you, now getting just as irritated. He grabs your arm and turns you around.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he demands. You raise a brow.

"Not everything is an affront to your manhood," you reply testily. "Are you really protecting me, or is it just your petty pride that another man would dare touch what's 'yours?'"

You turn to walk away from him, but he grabs you again. This time by the hand. He barely resists the urge to yank you back.

No, Ben waits for you to choose. To turn back to him. You're frowning in your anger, but even he can see the thread of hurt deep down. The fear that his motivations are only selfish.

His jaw ticks. But he sighs through his nose. "Come 'ere."

Reluctant though you seem, you take a chance in drawing back into him. His arms circle around you, with those heavy hands splaying across your lower back. He cages you securely against him and looks down you. His eyes are a fraction softer.

"You are mine," he says. "I'm not gonna let these cocksuckers forget it. Because I've got plenty of enemies who'd do more than just touch you."

It sucks to be reminded of that fact, but it's the cold reality. Still, you soften, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

He's trying to send the world a clear message: he won't tolerate bullshit, of any kind. Least of all with you.

That, you can appreciate.

And you lean up to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

Knowing Ben, it doesn't stay sweet for long.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 Lots of angst diverted into hurt/comfort and fluff, there.

Do you guys like these Dean/Beau/Ben "reacts?" Let me know! 😉

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[marzipanandminutiae]

I've done a little bit of googling, but I wonder if you could explain to me in more detail exactly the difference between a corset and a bustier, and when each one was worn? My current understanding is that corsets were intended to slim the waist, and were generally worn in the Victorian era; while bustiers were meant to enhance the bosom, and were perhaps a little bit later, Edwardian maybe? TIA!

I can try to help, sure!

So, first of all, corsets were not primarily intended to reduce the waist. That IS a common effect of a corset- even when laced moderately, the way most women in corset-intensive eras did on a day-to-day basis, and tightlacing for intentional reduction was a thing that happened too (though far less common) -but their primary intentional functions have generally been bust support, back support, and providing a rigid base for multiple layers of petticoat/skirt waistbands.

Complicating matters, you do see the pure shapewear piece of the 1920s-1960s sometimes called "corsets," though the term "girdle" became increasingly prevalent during that period. These elasticated garments existed solely to reduce the abdomen, the bust support feature having been replaced by brassieres, and at some points to hold up stockings. Girdles worn during pregnancy may have served an abdominal support function, too. I'm going to assume, for the purposes of this ask, that you mean the earlier corsets we all think of when we hear the term.

As I understand it, bustiers are now more commonly a fashion item intended to be seen (out and about or at home as sexy lingerie) than a practical, everyday support undergarment. They don't distribute one's abdominal fat the same way a corset does, having- as you implied -less compression in the waist and hip areas and focusing exclusively on the breasts. As underwear, they're more akin to the longline bras of the 1940s-60s, I believe- a bra that provides a minor silhouette-smoothing function by extending to the waist. Bustiers without straps are sometimes used as breast support under low-backed strapless evening gowns

As I understand it, the term came into use for the current purpose around the 1950s, though there may have been similar garments around earlier. Certainly not before the 1930s, though, I feel fairly confident in saying.

Having never worn a bustier myself, I cannot speak to how they feel in relation to a historical corset. But I hope I've gotten this more or less right!

[boblittlepage-blog]

Might As Well Move The Discussion Over Here...

Is this pretty much what you're after, Indy?

Spoiler warning, "top surgery" ain't gonna give you that. Something more like this, if you're lucky...

They're generally a bit more careful with reductions, where they suck out the excess breast tissue, ala' liposuction, and try to keep scarring to a minimum, since it is a cosmetic procedure (just a couple of small scars were the suction bit went in, recovery in a matter of days).

A complete mastectomy, however, is major surgery, and they're not so genteel, where they cut you open and start scraping out everything, requiring the much bigger scars seen above, which also tends to destroy all the nerve endings and mess up the muscles for a good long while. Tough to get much done when you can't move your arms, and you get the added bonus of a helluva lot more pain (not the type you enjoy) and no longer being able to feel your chest, because all those nerve endings got scraped out along with the breast tissue, and probably a few lymph nodes while they were at it. It's not terribly precise.

Indy, I don't care what you call yourself, or how you identify. I've said it over and over again, yes, your tits are way too big for you, puberty was a bitch in that regard, and it makes sense on a number of levels, both physically and psychologically, to reduce them down to something more suitable. Reducing them down to something like the top picture would probably do more for you than another ten years of therapy, maybe even get you to the right headspace where you can finally tackle the really big trauma and actually resolve your issues once and for all. A double radical mastectomy would only pile on yet another massive trauma. And it would be going too far.

So, if advocating for minimal surgical intervention instead of standing by and cheering while you happily walk into the meat grinder and wreck your health makes me some kind of monster...I think that says more of the accusers than it does about me.

Correcting a physical problem is fine, I encourage it. All I'm advising is caution. This is the only body you're gonna get. Don't fuck it up over a personality issue.

That's it, I'm done. The rest is on you. Don't do something stupid and irreversible.

[little-bunny-in-space]

help - need trans opinions (tw. Surgery, dysphoria and experiencing trans hate)

Hi everyone! You can call me bunny or don, whatever

I’m genuinely wondering about getting top surgery vs. a breast reduction.

So you know, I’m a closeted trans (afab) and boyflux. Sometimes I feel more femme, sometimes more masc. I’ve felt this way since I was a child. I always felt more like an “pretty boy” than anything. Ever since I started getting breasts I never felt quite “comfy.” I was comfy before I had them or, when they first started coming in. But over the years (20 now) they just… get in the way. They hurt, no bras fit right, I can’t wear binders long from my scoliosis, and they are two total different cup sizes- one a b, one a c almost a d. They HURT ALL THE TIME. I have endometriosis and my hormones fluctuate from that and some residual from a doctor’s misdiagnosis fiasco…

The bras dig into my rib cage… I just.., hate them. So now I’m stuck- do I want lumps of fat, or do I want nothing?

sometimes, I like them. They look ok in dresses, love bikinis when possible (even though they don’t quite look right.) but 85% of the time… they’re a pain. My arm always smooshes my right one anyway and it is flat and always hurts.

then I think- how would I look without them? I have a bigger tummy, big hips. Sometimes I think I look bad without them.

I know for sure my father is extremely anti-trans, and would threaten if I ever brought it up in a feeling-trans way. He has told me trans people should unalive themselves, while my brother and law and everyone around me agreed.

I’m scared and kinda don’t know what to do. Im thinking maybe, I could go for a reduction to an A cup- and while I still have them- maybe it’d be more comfy until I could get a full top if I even wanted to.

I don’t plan on going on T anytime soon, mostly for safety reasons.

any advice? Sorry for the rant…

[gen-x-genderqueer]

I have a pre-intake call with someone at the gender clinic tomorrow, they have care coordinators, so I guess this is about that. Anyway, I'm making a list of concerns. This is long and pretty personal, so it's going to go under a cut....

The Major Problems

My PMDD is bad. This is the biggest reason why my therapist is pushing me to at least talk to someone about hormones. I had a history of being seriously suicidal (as in actual attempts) when I was a teenager and then things settled down for a while. Now that I'm actually going through perimenopause though, it's gotten really unstable. The level of PMDD I'm having right now is close to that bad; although I have better coping tactics so I'm not actually suicidal.

My cycles are often 18-21 days long, sometimes as short as 16 or 17. Even with two LONG cycles (over 36 days), I still had 15 cycles in 2022. That means 15 rounds of severe PMDD.

I am experiencing "vaginal dryness" (more specifically vulval dryness) that periodically makes me feel like I'm about to come down with a UTI. Ick.

Hot flashes.

Based on the PMDD alone, I think it would probably be a good idea to shut down my cycles (at the ovarian level, so not uterine ablation). Probably this means some sort of oral contraception, progesterone minipill or testosterone. But the last two symptoms are usually treated with estrogen so... I don't really know this is where I need a doctor who has more knowledge & expertise.

The Big T

Part of why I'm specifically looking at going to a gender clinic for treatment is that I want to be able to talk to them about T. I had always said "Oh, if I had known that I could be nonbinary and take T when I was 25 I would have totally done that." But I'm also really resistant to medicalization, and without any other motivators, I really would rather just not see a doctor. At all. (OK, maybe if I have pneumonia or a UTI.) This was a major reason why I put off having breast reduction surgery for many years, I just didn't want to have medical care if I didn't absolutely have to.

Anyway... back to the question at hand... If I need to see someone for perimenopause reasons, then I want it to be someone I can talk to about low dose testosterone without them running away screaming. Apparently, using small amounts of T in menopausal cisgender women is useful, but controversial because everyone is so worried about "masculinization." Like... No. I'm really not worried about that. But I don't want to have to sit in a sterile little medical room and have to educate my provider.

So, here's how I feel about possible effects of T...

Menstrual cessation: Uh... see above! This would be a good thing.

Voice changes: YES PLEASE! This would be my number 1 positive!

Bottom growth: I would be into this, but it wouldn't be a major goal.

Facial/body hair: This one I'm kinda on the fence about. I mostly do not want facial hair for the sole reason that I pull it out with my fingernails. It's not a healthy fidget. 😬 Hair other places, I'm cool with it, I don't really care that much. Right now, I choose to shave my armpits, but literally only because I feel like antiperspirant works better if I do and I don't like damp pits.

Hair loss: Oh HELL NO! And this is a huge one because I'm old enough that if I was a cisgender guy, I would be having hair loss right now. Big no on having that happen.

Body changes: Look, I work out. I lift heavy. I already have a good deal of muscle and I'd be stoked to increase that. (If you didn't know I was a GenX gymrat before, the word "stoked" would be a major clue.) Changes in bodyfat distribution are more ho-hum. I'm not dysphoric about my butt or anything, but I'd be OK with subtle changes.

Facial structure/jawline changes: I'm alright with this. I might be more enthusiastic if I understood what it will look like on me.

Vaginal dryness/atrophy: Uh... I'm already on the road to this and it's one of the reasons I'm seeking perimenopause care. So this is going to need to get dealt with one way or another.

[puppygirlincubus]

TL;DR: Oliv’s got her panties in a bunch over a warframe because she’s gay for lycanthropes

You could call me an avid fan of werewolves probably, so when DE had been teasing the idea of a werewolf warframe...I was pretty hyped. Then comes Tennocon ‘22, and they announce they brought on Joe motherfucking Mad to design it. That’s hype as hell! Never played darksiders, but his style is iconic and pretty rad.

Then we get this:

First off, this does not look like a werewolf in the slightest aside from the tail. It looks more like a xenomorph that's had wolf skulls and tits stapled to it. And that fucking wording! “Wolf-Inspired”. The entire concept was pitched as a werewolf, but now its just “inspired” by a wolf.

The final colors they decided on help the design a lot honestly. It’s still nowhere near werewolf and the skulls are way over the top, but at least it looks better. Maybe the abilities will redeem this clusterfuck? Surely it’ll have a Sevagoth like ability where it transforms into a quadrupedal wolf form, right? After all, the werewolf concept has been teased ever since a Q&A question suggested the idea of using Sevagoth’s tech for it.

Now the update is coming out at the end of the month, and we have our 3d renders of the newly christened Voruna.

Oh god, what the fuck is this.

This isn’t even close to a wolf- it’s barely even a beast! She looks like she’s out to put Chroma out of work as the dragon warframe.The texture and modeling is WAY off from Joe Mad’s original design, and they’ve made her the first ever warframe nerfed before launch by giving her a breast reduction. And the cherry on top of the sunday is that the only description we have of her abilities is that the gimmick revolves around using each of the 4 skulls to give her a different passive. So not only can I likely not take off those ugly as sin things, but there’s probably not gonna be a werewolf transformation either.

Ultimately it’s not a big deal, but man does it sting to get teased about a character that is absolutely up your alley in every conceivable way- but then every new piece of development feels like a kick in the nuts.

[lettersfromthelevant]

it's so weird how men can be more accepting of female gender non-conformity and child-free lifestyle than other women... like i mean obviously there are tons of men who hate seeing that in women, but...

every woman in my family has told me that if i don't shave men will comment on it and i'll never get a man to be with me. i've had three long-term boyfriends. none of them ever even mentioned my body hair and none of the men in my family have ever mentioned it either. my mother could literally never stfu about my body hair, but my dad, my grandads, and my brother have never commented on it once.

i walk around in sleep shorts and a tank top with no bra in front of the men in my family and they never say a word; meanwhile my mother would always, without fail, tell me i needed to go put on a bra, call me sasquatch, and insinuate that men looking at my boobs was somehow my fault and not a behavior that needed to be corrected in men.

like i am honestly, as i write this, thinking hard back into my life to see if i could find a single time that a single one of my male family members ever told me to shave or put on a bra and i cannot come up with one. i remember being in the kitchen with my dad and his mom once, wearing shorts and no bra, sporting leg hair. my bubbe could. not. shut. up. about my body hair and leaned in repeatedly to tell me "i can see your nipples." then stop fucking looking, lady? the men clearly don't have a problem with me just existing because they are normal god damn people that don't feel inclined to scrutinize every inch of their own blood relatives body for sex appeal...

oh and speaking of boobs and sex appeal, i actually thought my mother was going to have an aneurysm when i got a breast reduction. i got it purely because i didn't like having boobs bigger than an a-cup and apparently, to my mother, that was the equivalent of shooting a man directly in the balls with a shotgun.

and holy fuck i have been going over so many memories of my mother now that she's gone, just accepting that i had a really fucked up relationship with her, and i'm starting to remember all the repressed things that i just kind of blurred out. like how my mom could not go a single fucking conversation without bringing up "motherhood" and "babies." my dad recently started using the word "if" and not "when" to describe kids (low bar, i know) but you could've never caught my mother dead insinuating that it was okay for women to be child-free.

my dad was so ecstatic whenever i picked up a masculine hobby because it meant we could hang out more. meanwhile my mother would always try and talk me out of it or just make it really difficult to pursue anything. i'm honestly shocked she didn't die a decade sooner when i bought a motorcycle. my dad taught my how to gear shift.

the reason i'm even thinking of this right now is just that we are debating a funeral/memorial and i am getting into a full blown fucking fight with my mom's cousin-i-didn't-know-existed-until-yesterday on me wearing a suit instead of a dress or skirt. apparently it's "disrespectful." like first off, she's dead so it's not like she's here to give a shit. second, if the only reason you showed up after like two decades of radio silence is to hear the will reading maybe don't comment about "respect." my dad bought me a suit.

[trans-cuchulainn]

I mean you're probably right about the published numbers but I think the nhs is outsourcing to private hospitals or something, my friend got an nhs top surgery in under a year. He might have said he was a bit more suicidal than he actually was, idk if that affected it. So like it's shit, but don't give up?

tbh i already went private for surgery and am probably going private for hormones (with shared care arrangements to minimise costs, but i am being fucked around somewhat in terms of how many hoops i'm having to jump through to see an endo) so the post was more of a general statement about the absolute state of things right now rather than about my personal situation

because i think a lot of cis people, or trans people from outside the uk, don't realise exactly how bad the nhs waiting lists are, and there's a general vibe of "yeah but if it's free isn't it worth waiting?" that i see sometimes online. which may well be true for the majority of people when it's 2-3 years. but when we're counting in DECADES? yeah that stops being viable real fast.

the 25 year figure would be for people newly referred today, they're currently seeing people referred in 2018. the waiting lists get longer all the time, so it used to be that you'd be seen within a year or two, and then within two, and then five... i was referred early in 2019, so i'm guessing i might get a call from them in two years' time, if the system hasn't completely broken by then

but also these are only the figures for initial appointments, and not for care after an initial appointment (whether that's hormones or surgery referrals). there are lots of delays there too where they can make you wait a year for a second appointment before they'll give you a referral and stuff but i can see things being a lot more variable at that end once you've got past the first hurdle

there are also some parts of the UK where there trans healthcare pilot schemes for people in particular areas, or who meet other criteria (such as being registered with specific sexual health clinics before a certain date), which can help people access care quicker if you happen to be eligible for one of those. unfortunately there are none of those open to me, but it sounds like it could be that your friend was able to get onto one of these schemes?

(a lot of the surgeons do both private and NHS treatment but it's just... how you get there that would be different.)

however if your friend went through the standard GP -> GIC -> surgery route any time in the last few years i feel like there are definitely missing pieces in this story because as far as i can tell it is simply not possible to do that specific process that quickly. (but i know there are policies for breast reductions on the NHS that can include mental health grounds so maybe the were able to take that tack? truly it is only once they put the word Trans in front of things that everything requires ten zillion hoops to jump through)

[beatrixstonehill2]

"You want my chest to be like this?" Sophie asked her boyfriend, James, as he did some photos for her Instagram.

"Yes! Just like that.... I think you'd look incredible with a flat chest. I love seeing you press them down like that....."

"You're too much! So you love small boobs, like totally flat chested girls and you swiped right on me? A girl with a GG-Cup?"

"Why not? Your breasts can always be reduced, Sophie. Plus the way you smile when I talk about it tells me you're considering it."

"But we've only been going out a bit over a month! Don't you think this is a bit extreme.....? I have two million followers on Instagram and they totally love my big boobs..... If anything I'd want to go bigger."

"Come on, that's no fun! Imagine how riled up they'd get, especially if you taunted and teased them about getting a reduction."

"That does sound like fun, not gonna lie....."

"Come on, press them down flat, I'll take a few pics, you upload them and say something like 'Who wants to see me go this flat chested?' I bet you'll be surprised how many guys want to see you lose those fat breasts of yours."

Sophie bit her lip, doing as James asked, pressing them down as far as they would go, proudly sticking out her 'flat' chest, smiling. James took the pics and handed Sophie her phone. She uploaded them, watching to see if anybody would even bother reading what she wrote in the description. James told her to wait a few minutes, so Sophie did what any good girlfriend would do and sucked him off, letting him face fuck her as they waited. A couple minutes later she refreshed, skimming through the comments as he pounded her throat, puke now on her breasts, a string of it hanging from her chin as she eagerly let him continue to pound away, eager to satisfy his urges.

Her eyes lit up as he kept going, coughing up yet more of her lunch, dressing her boobs with this mess he loved to parade her around wearing, and she more than happily wore..... She smiled as he pounded like crazy, reading the comments. Two thirds were positive, mostly men telling her to chop off her boobs, to please record the surgery live, to go as flat as possible. The other third called her a useless slut or an idiot for doing this, that her boobs were the only thing that mattered about her.

James stopped, his cock still lodged down her throat. "Well?" he asked.

Sophie tried to speak but gagged another big strand of puke down her chin. So she eagerly nodded.

"I take it that means you plan on getting your big fat titties chopped off?"

She nodded even more enthusiastically.

James grabbed Sophie's pigtails and face fucked her super hard, finally cumming down her throat after another minute, pulling out as she gasped for air, covered in sweat, vomit, and drool. He slapped her face a few times in quick succession as she winced. "Now then, what say you and I celebrate you becoming flat chested, my new favorite pet? I was thinking a nice, sleazy bar to show you off in, and maybe if you're lucky I'll let you get fucked by a few bikers again."

She cough up a bit more and smiled. "Sounds perfect! Thank you so much for treating me so well! Let's find a surgeon who will make me flat chested as soon as possible! I can't wait to see myself with almost no boobs..... and I can't wait to see how crazy it drives you." She giggled as he took her hand, walking her out the door in just her panties, barefoot, her huge breasts, soon to be flattened, bounced like crazy, covered in puke, exposed for everyone to see.....

[teenmomcentral]

Kail Lowry’s plan to go under the knife (again) has been put on hold.

On the latest episode of her Barely Famous podcast, the former Teen Mom 2 star and mother of seven revealed to listeners that she was recently informed by doctors that she cannot undergo a breast augmentation until she loses weight.

“ … Listen to me when I tell you, I wanna get a boob job, right? So I call around, I’m like making these consultations to get a boob job. You know what they told me? They told me I need to lose 40 pounds, ok?” Kail said on her podcast. “So, 40 or 50 pounds– more like 50, but maybe I could get away with 40 pounds– before they can even operate on me. So that was extremely humbling.”

“I’ve been wanting to do this breast reduction, implants, lift, whatever it is,” Kail said on the podcast. “[The woman at the doctor’s office] was like, ‘Do you still want to schedule this?’ I’m literally sobbing. Already the water works have started.”

Kail explained in the caption of a clip from the podcast episode that doctors actually informed her that her body mass index (BMI) is “entirely too high to operate” but after doing the math, she determined that she would have to lose between 40 and 50 pounds to get her BMI where it needs to be, according to the doctors she spoke with.

“Make sure you’re in the right headspace,” Kail advised any of her listeners who are considering plastic surgery. “If you’re not, you will be humbled by the fact that they may not be able to operate on you.”

Kail also added that, should she lose enough weight to be cleared for surgery, she is considering getting more than just her boobs done.

“I don’t even know if I can get my double chin done,” she said. “Truthfully, I’d want to do that at the same time as my boob job because why would I pay for anesthesia twice?”

As fans of ‘Teen Mom 2’ may recall, Kail is no stranger to plastic surgery. Shortly after she gave birth to twins Valley and Verse last year, Kail admitted on her Barely Famous podcast that she regrets letting Dr. Miami inflate her rear end with a Brazilian Butt Lift (BBL) back in 2016, and that wants to get the procedure reversed.

That same day, Kail also underwent a tummy tuck and Lipo 360, At the time of her surgeries, Kail only had two children, but has since gone on to have five more kids after that.

Back in 2021, Kail revealed on an episode of her Coffee Convos podcast that she had been diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), a disorder that often causes weight gain, and as a result, she was considering gastric bypass surgery to help drop some of the weight she claimed to have gained rapidly.

While Kail never went through with the gastric sleeve procedure, she has discussed other weight-loss options in recent months. In January, she told her Baby Mamas No Drama podcast co-host Vee Torres that in order to meet her post-babybabies body goals, she’d need “to get Ozempic shots or something.” She also confirmed that she plans to undergo “another mommy makeover,” calling her previous round of nipping and tucking, “the best decision I ever made.” However, she has stated that she does regret not waiting to have the procedures done until after she was done having kids.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Andy Barber - Fight/F-ck

A/N & WC - Defending Jacob is a sensational novel, and I think the adaptation is good also. Here’s an homage to Chris’ Andrew Barber. I wrote this in a day, I was on a roll. I do not own the characters. 2.9k

Warnings - swearing, bad parenting, toxic relationship, divorce, mentions of pregnancy, breast reduction, vasectomy and birth control; smut: unprotected sex, daddy kink, spit kink. 18+

Summary - Since the divorce with Andy, you’ve been stuck in a vicious cycle whenever you see him, but it’s one you can’t avoid. Fight or fuck? Usually both, but today’s hook up may go awry since your son’s home.

HE WAS AN AWFUL BOYFRIEND, a terrible husband, and an even worse person to be around.

So why is he balls deep inside me? And why do I love it so much?

Is it that smouldering look in his eyes when he grows lustful? Or maybe the gruffness that overtakes his voice when he gets pissed off? Or, worst of all. And heaven forbid it be this driving force, how wonderful a father he is to our shared son? Watching him and Jake interact always melts my heart and softens the vulnerable part of me that hardens against Andy in his absence.

Whatever the reason may be, I know I’ll regret letting it get to me once again when the sun comes up, and there’s no darkness, nothing to sheathe my mistake, or hide it from my son.

Not even a year since the hellish divorce we endured, and he’s been back inside me, fucking me like an animal countless times, and always for hate sex, usually following a blow up row. We try to keep it when Jake’s not home, but the issue is that doesn’t usually happen when Andy comes over. He comes to see his son, pick him up or drop him off, deliver something he forgot or even pay him a visit, hence why Andy’s never stayed the night. Jake’s what’s keeping us together: how ironic, since he’s the reason we split in the first place, to take him away from all the fighting.

I hate how insatiable I am around Andy, too much, and even more-so since he’s not here at my beckon call. Even during all the years we were married, the sex was never this good, not since the very start.

“Hey,” Andy whisper-shouts, careful not to alert or disturb Jacob. He smacks my cheek, “look at me when I fuck you.”

“Sorry Daddy,” I croon.

He rolls his half-hooded eyes, then rolls his strong hips on a particularly harsh buck of his skilful pelvis that grinds his trimmed curls right up against my engorged clit in the most delectable way, pleasure rolling throughout me in waves, my fingertips sparking with pleasure, gravitating to his hair. I pull, and revel in the guttural groan I elicit from him.

“Mouth, open,” he grits.

His brows furrow, almost in pain, anguish, perhaps in concentration or the weaning of his immense strength now he’s forty. That’s on him, though. I gave him the choice to fuck me anywhere in the house, and he chose the hallway wall.

I open my mouth, dabbing my lips with my tongue before sticking it out, knowing what he wants, only to snap it shut when the tip of his member grazes my g-spot, and I begin to see stars.

“Fuckin’ hell, now I know why we got a divorce. Can’t do a damn thing I ask. Mouth, open, now.”

I ensure to do a better job this time, looking into his darkening cerulean eyes hidden by thick lashes. I loosen my jaw and drop it as far as it’ll go—pretty far, both Andrew and I know from experience—sticking my tongue out all the way as well, and I’m not disappointed when he takes a punishing hold on my face, yanking at my chin to angle his hot mouth over mine, spitting directly onto my tongue. I salivate at the sensation of that alone.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I tell him once I’ve swallowed, opening my mouth in the same wide manner again to prove what a Good Little Wife I’ve been.

“Good Princess.”

My heart flutters, my mind going dizzy, the knot in the pit of my stomach winding tighter. He hasn’t called me that for at least a decade.

Andy hikes my leg higher up around his hip, his giant, calloused hand gripping the supple flesh of my thigh with a bruising hold as he settles me high above him, pinned, caged between him and the wall. That’s when my shirt and bra disappear in one fell swoop. He impales me on his dick without another thought, thrusting his hips in little gyrations that match the spill of his grunts and that allow him to catch every single sweet spot inside me he learnt so well all those years ago. I can taste the bitter, metallic tang of blood on my tongue, biting down on it to suppress an animalistic moan as he fucks into me mercilessly.

“Andy…”

His lips seal around my one pert nipple, while the rough pads of his skilled fingers toy with the other. His carefully trimmed beard and moustache tickle my breasts, unused to such stimulation.

He hasn’t much paid attention to my boobs since before I had Jacob, much preferring a smaller chest on my frame, rather than what blossomed following my pregnancy and months of breastfeeding. In typical male fashion, he suggested a breast reduction: I said no. As it turns out, once again, all we needed to reach a mutually beneficial agreement was a fucking divorce. We could’ve thought of this years ago when our once lively sex life took a nose dive, and the sad arguments began, rather than the sexy, fiery ones—no matter how toxic that makes our relationship. I’m getting the latter once again now, and plenty of them: better late than never.

While I’m lost in my head again, Andy switches his attentions, prompting me to dig my nails into his shoulders for purchase. I meet his thrusts as I grind down, undulating my hips sensually in a figure of eight as his thick cock rubs everywhere within me I need him to, my walls involuntary clenching around him. He groans lowly, the reverberations of such rippling through me in a new wash of pleasure. Keeping my eyes open, I let my head fall back against the plain drywall, carefully between family portraits and artwork we once bought together. His eyes are wide open now, mad with pleasure.

“C’mon, Daddy’s so close, keep riding me like that…”

I do, fucking him senselessly the way he has been me, my hips moving rapidly of their own volition, so willingly in harmony with his. The coil in my belly is building in pleasure.

“Andy— Daddy,” I choke out.

“Come for me, wanna feel that pussy clench around my cock, Princess.”

The pad of his thumb presses to my pearl, the tip of his tongue tracing my puckered bud, the variety of multiple sensations enough to tip me over that heavenly edge.

My body spasms against him, every recollection from our intimacies coming flooding back to me in an erotic slideshow of flashbacks. My clit throbs, my cavern tensing unapologetically around Andy, milking his dick the way he wanted and coaxing him to reach his own climax, to experience the memories I am. It’s a magical feeling I can’t ever imagine being able to fabricate, and my orgasm, with my stomach all in a flutter and my chest heaving for breath, is only elongated once Andy spills and empties himself inside me. He moans, his mouth open and hot on my clammy skin, against my collarbone, briefly nibbling there, perhaps subconsciously, as he pants and shifts his knees.

I briefly consider the chances of another pregnancy from these… unprotected rendezvous'. After Jake, we decided together not to have any more children, not with how… typically infantile he was around day-care, the reports we received. So, to save me from surgery or a lifetime of birth control, he did the most decent thing he did throughout all our years of marriage, and got a vasectomy. Perhaps he had it reversed in our time apart.

14 years would be a big age gap, especially for Jake. Just the possibility of being pregnant again has my mind in a whirlwind. Would I keep it? Would Andy want to keep it? Would we get back together to raise another child? Or would we fuck it up the way we did with Jake?

Neither myself or Andy speak while we bask in the afterglow of whatever the hell that was, the mind blowing sex, a window to what could’ve been; instead, we simply feel one another for what may or may not be the last time, the beat of his heart rapid against mine. It’s odd to think that the ring-less left hand currently gripping my thigh was once held in mine, in front of all our family and friends, as I slid a platinum band over his knuckles and onto his third finger; perhaps even stranger for me to think that my hand—now somehow tangled in his silky, dark brown hair—once held both a glistening engagement ring and a matching platinum wedding band as symbols of our love, only for it to expire. I still have them, of course I do, my stupid base sensitivity, on a necklace that I wear every single day (removed when Andy comes around, just to save face), or at least every day until I get the guts to sell them.

That day will never come if we keep ending up this way, with Andy fucking me after every damn fight we have.

“Y/n, gotta pull out,” he mumbles, but I barely hear the end of his sentence over a dangerously loud clatter of noise coming from upstairs. Coming from Jacob’s room.

We glance at one another with a strange dread, and I see Andy’s eyes fill with a terror only a father can have at the thought his son may be in danger: a primal protectiveness I share to some extent, as Jacob’s mother.

Andy’s pulling out of me in a moment, but I barely have a second to think about the emptiness—both literally and metaphorically—that he leaves behind as I throw my clothes on and try to hide any glaring marks of our hate-fucking. In amidst the flurry of clothes and gut feeling of stomach causing my mind to scramble like eggs, and my stomach to growl for them, I don’t even consider that my blouse may be buttoned incorrectly, or that my lipstick may be smudged, merely worrying that I’m dressed to a semi-respectable degree when I burst into Jacob’s room, hot on Andy’s heels, still combing my fingers through my hair in a vain attempt to make me semi-respectable.

We’re both panting from our myriad of exercise by the time we get inside, standing an admittedly suspicious distance apart with my hands clasped tightly at my front, and Andy’s muscular arms forced tight around his firm chest.

I scour the room for any sign of danger or damage, then Jake for any indication of injury or harm, but there’s nothing. Only the din of video game noises I’ve become accustomed to over the past five years since we got him his first Xbox.

“Jake? E— everything okay, pal?” Andy asks.

He shrugs grumpily the way teenagers do, his hoodie shifting off his bony shoulder, “Yeah. Why?”

“There was a giant crash, kid; we thought you were hurt,” I reply, arching my brow as I scrutinise my son.

His bedroom is an absolute state. Mugs he swears he’ll bring down, a tangle of wires, his bed unmade, clothes everywhere, posters pasted all over the walls… Andy’s far more lenient than I am, hence why Jacob fell into such slobbish habits.

“Oh, that,” he actually deigns to look away from his TV screen, his thumbs momentarily halting their work on his gaming remote. “You were making too much noise, I just wanted you to shut up.”

Typical teenage logic.

“Sorry, bud—” Andy starts.

But I begin at the same time, “We weren’t making any noise more than the usual, Jacob. Please don’t be insolent.”

And in a typically motherly fashion, I think I’m right, because though Andy and I may not be careful in other ways, we take every noise-related precaution we can in the heat of the moment. So why does Andy immediately begin confessing? He’s the lawyer, for crying out loud. What a stupid, honest man. Jake’s not thick, and ever the miniature Andy, he rolls his eyes the way his dad does, the way that never fails to piss me off.

“Please. Everyone knows you’re fucking.”

“Jacob!” we exclaim at once, astounded at his language, at his audacity… and at the truth.

He shrugs so damn nonchalantly, and actually turns his game off, standing to open a can of soda on his sideboard while I stand, back against his wall, sick to my stomach and too stunned to even shift my feet.

“They know because I told them.” I’m relatively secretive: that misguided nature in his moral compass is all on Andy. I glare at him, daggers in my gaze. “You're not very secretive, though. Every time you do it I’m in the house and it’s gross. Either stay divorced or get back together.”

Dumbstruck, Andy and I stare at one another, feeling another fight brewing. How does the kid carry the parts of the both of us that we loathe so much, that we’re so similar in and could really do without right the fuck now? Does he really think it's that black and white? God he truly is a lawyer's son. But like me, he doesn’t mince words, and is ambiguous with his statements, opposing his fathers lawyer nature. It’s really not a great combination. But it makes Jacob a damn smart kid. Fuck.

“Go fight or fuck elsewhere, I’m trying to play a game?”

Whenever we see each other, even after the divorce, and in all fairness, while it was still going through, one of those two things happened… often both, and they tended to cause each other in a vicious cycle of toxicity and damn good sex. Fight or fuck. Why does Jake have to be the one to hit us with the realising blow?

My eyes fix on some Spider-Man pop art hanging above his shelves, unable to look at myself, my ex-husband, or my son. My mouth feels… dry, and I’m so overwhelmed with thirst that I barely have the concentration or confidence to look Jake in the eye as he ushers us both out his room and slams the door behind him.

Except that thirst disappears and fizzles into a far more sinister need once Andy’s crystal blue eyes—rimmed with a navy that threatens, but not enough to scare—bore into mine as he stares down at me. With a tender, shaking hand, he tilts my chin up, curls an errant lock of hair behind my ear, and plants his pretty lips firmly on mine.

The sudden contact draws a gasp from my mouth, one he greedily swallows, the pressure of his embrace increasing, his tongue beginning to trace my lower lip. I grant him eager entry, avidly pressing my chest against his, pulling him closer by fisting the material of his shirt. I’m on my tiptoes, letting my tongue sweep his mouth, getting drunk on the heady feeling.

I hadn’t even realised how much I’d missed Andy’s kisses: he always was such a good kisser, causing countless emotions to flow throughout me all at once, an indescribable cocktail. I haven’t felt it in so long. The main thing he’s been doing in these hook-ups since the divorce (though I must concede it’s kind of a mutual agreement) is no kisses, even during sex, so we wouldn’t taste one another and rediscover the intimacy that made us catch feelings and fall head first the way we did all those years ago. The feelings we feared never really went away, not for me at least, and judging by the passion of this kiss, not for Andy either. He barely kissed me before the divorce, though, if at all during the end of our marriage: I can’t quite remember when our last kiss was. So this means something special.

I can’t quite work it out, but I’m so lost in the hot, needy press of his talented mouth on mine and the indescribable minty taste that’s so typically and indescribably Andy, that I just don’t care. And I give in. And I let him handle me the way he always has.

I wind my arms around his neck, my one hand toying with the hair at the base of his neck, but my other hand trails back down his chest, and around his waist, sliding down the centre of his spine until I’m able to tuck my hand into his back pocket, pulling him closer by his peachy ass. Except, I don’t get that far, not when I feel something small, cold and round in there. My heart stops, and I stop kissing him, pulling my lips away from his and instead tilting my forehead against his. I pluck it out: his wedding band, as good as new, holding it in my palm.

“y/n,” he husks, his hands falling to my hips, “I can explain.”

“Shh, you don’t need to.”

Slipping my spare hand into his, feeling the heat and anxious clamminess there, I clutch him with all my strength, and lead him into the bedroom we used to share. Other than his clothes being gone, I’ve changed nothing about our room. He realises that, I know, as I hear his breath hitch, eyes flitting everywhere. I let go of him, gravitating to my dresser, where I pick up the necklace, unclasping it and slipping my own rings off it, sliding them onto my ring finger. He smiles at me when I turn back to him, his silver wedding band glinting in the light, balanced in the centre of my palm. He gives me his hand expectantly, his smile broadening when he sees my own rings as I replace his wedding ring. Before I can withdraw, he knots his fingers with mine, and lets them just stay that way.

We can choose another time, but for now, fighting and fucking aside, just being here with him, this feels right.

[heuffopla]

I know this is a really REALLY personal question, but could you go into a little bit of detail on your reduction? Like how many cup sizes you went down? And insurance, maybe? I want to pursue one but I'm so genuinely scared

I don't mind talking about it at all ! Just keep in mind that I did it in France, so cup sizes/insurances/Healthcare stuff will be different. (unless you're in France too. hiii)

So I started out around a D or an F, which could be livable for bigger people, but I'm basically a stick. So I looked like a tiny anime girl with gigantuous badonkas, it was completely disproportionate and it hurt and, living in Paris, the street harassment was constant. (Sometimes I'd get cat catcalled at 8 am like bro I just woke up.) So yeah, except for the sexist people, everyone agreed that we had to do something about it. I am now on the smaller size of a B cup (I basically asked the doctor to go to the smallest possible size for me)

We called the hospital (check the reviews for each hospitals near you, especially if you can find stuff about your surgery) and we got the first appointment, which for your wallet is the most important. Either a doctor or a nurse (try to have a woman for this one) will evaluate your condition and tell you if your insurance will cover it. So they'll look at you topless, they'll look for : how disproportionate your breasts are compared to your body and each other, they'll ask if they hurt, if they're causing mental pain... And after that you'll have your answer! You can choose to go through with it or not after this appointment! If you do go through with it, you should only have three more appointments, one with the person who'll put you to sleep during the surgery, one to take photographs of your breasts, and one with your doctor the day before the surgery where he'll draw on your chest a bunch to help his crew the next day (basically where to cut, how much to take away...)

I didn't have to pay for it, and my mother took care of the paperwork so I can't really tell you much after that (but you do need a lot of important papers so make sure your house is organized on that level) but overall, don't worry too much! Surgeries are scary, but I've never met anyone who was unhappy after a breast reduction! It is so freeing, my back stopped hurting, and the catcalling has gone down by so much (I also moved to a better neighborhood so that might be why.)

If you have anymore questions, you can always come back here, I remember how confused and scared I was before and right after the surgery, and it was because no one really told me how to do things... So I'll be there ! :D

[bustyasianbeautiespod]

Episode 28 Transcript: Who is The Lightning McQueen of Supernatural?

[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!

So for today's episode, we'll be discussing Season 2, Episode 6: "No Exit," written by Matt Witten, directed by Kim Manners. Who is this Witten guy? He also directs "Playthings" later on in the season- I mean writes. But yeah, those are his only episodes.

Okay, so before we hop in, Crystal, what did you think about this episode before going in?

C: I had no clue. I guess I hadn't really heard of this one at all. Like, I know about Jo's backstory and how John got her dad killed on a hunt, and how, at some point, she says that she didn't fit in at school because she was a freak with a knife collection, but I didn't know where those things came from.

G: Yeah, exactly, me too. Like, I didn't know that it was from this episode. I guess because those things are just things that like, you absorb through fandom and you will recall, like, outside of context.

C: Yeah.

G: So, okay, let's start with the actual episode!

-

G: So we start off in a city, which is not that common for Supernatural, so this was fun. It's night, and there's this girl. She's on a call with- I guess her landlord, and she's complaining about the flickering lights in her apartment. As she hangs up, she finds little droplets of this black goo all around. She reaches out, and like, with her finger and dips her hand into it, and I was like, "Lick it! Lick it!" [both laugh] More goo starts happening around her. She goes over by- what is this?

C: The transcript says it's a light switch.

G: She goes over to a hole in the wall. A light switch, but there's like, a little hole in it. And the black goo starts oozing in earnest out of the light switch, and she peeks into it, and a creepy eye peeks out. She screams, and that's the end of our teaser.

-

C: So, we're now to The Roadhouse, where Sam and Dean are outside, about to head in, and Dean makes a joke about a girl who was kidnapped by an evil cult in L.A. named Katie Holmes. Is that- what is that a reference to?

G: Katie Holmes is an actor, but I don't really understand the reference. Like, was there, like, a cult thing going on in L.A. at the time? I don't know. But-

C: Was Markiplier being attacked by gangs in L.A. at the time?

G: [laughing] Yeah. Yeah, exactly, did he get the breast reduction and breast unreduction?

C: Okay, the Wiki says that Katie Holmes was dating Tom Cruise, who's a scientologist, and that-

G: Ohh, yeah.

C: - she became interested in it, so like, the joke was like, Katie Holmes has been kidnapped by the Scientologists.

G: Okay, okay, got it.

C: Yeah. Alright. Sam says, "That's funny, and for you, so bitchy." [laughing] What does that mean?

G: What does that even mean?

C: Sam-?

G: We get Sam saying "bitch" for absolutely no reason, no importance, no relevance.

C: Okay, Sam. And then we hear the sound of Ellen and Jo arguing inside the Roadhouse. And Dean says, "On the other hand, catfight." Ugh.

G: That's like- that's like, a bad thing to say, right?

C: Yeah, it's just, I guess, a term for fights between women but in a way that I guess, like, trivializes it for entertainment. It's- yeah.

G: [laughing] At some point in this episode, Dean, like, shakes his head to deny misogyny [C laughing] And I was like, "Well, fantastic."

C: Sure, Dean. [laughing] Dean may not think that this is gender studies, but I will make it gender studies.

C: Ugh. Was "bitchy" or "catfight," like, points-worthy? Or is it just- I don't know, maybe I'm becoming desensitized.

G: I feel like if this was like, at the beginning of season 1, we would be like, "Give them a point!"

C: Yeah.

G: But now- [laughs] like, I don't know. Do you want to give them a point? I wanna- I kind of want to give Dean a point for just, in general, this episode.

C: Yeah. Yeah. I'll give him a general point.

G: How about Sam, though?

C: I just- I think I feel like "bitchy" is not as bad-

G: It's not like a-

C: Is "bitchy" not as bad as "bitch"? I feel like- I don't know. What do you think?

G: I think, like, there's a difference between referring to a woman as "bitch," versus like, just, say, calling Dean "bitchy," you know?

C: Yeah. Yeah. Like, I guess, like, the word "bitch" itself and all of the variants are- like, there's like, a problem with them existing, but I wouldn't blame people that much for saying them, except for in specific contexts.

G: Yeah, exactly.

C: Yeah. Alright. So Dean has a point now, so that is his fourth misogyny of the season.

G: That's a lot.

C: Yeah. But he's averaging less than one per episode, which is better than he was doing last season.

G: [laughs] Yes, exactly.

-

G: Sam and Dean enter the Roadhouse, and Ellen and Jo, as they overheard, is fighting- well, are fighting. [laughs] I don't know. They're fighting. And Jo is complaining to her mom about "How you can't keep me here, what are you gonna do? Chain me up in the basement?" The argument is about how Ellen doesn't want her to go somewhere, somewhere being a hunt, which is revealed a little bit later. Ellen says, "If you want to go somewhere so bad, go back to school." Jo says her iconic line, "I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!"

C: Go girl!

G: Go girl. So they continue arguing some more, and Ellen turns around and sees the boys. Sam and Dean were like, "Okay, bad time, we're gonna leave now." But as they go to leave, Jo stops them. Do I mentioned, like, the three- the fucking- [C laughs]

C: - the three randos?

G: - family? [laughing] No, but the family of four that comes in at some point.

C: [laughs] Sure.

G: Jo stops them to ask about their opinion on what's happening. There's like, a whole scene, where a family comes in, and it's like, a family of four with two small children, and they're like, "Um, is this establishment open?" And like, Ellen and Jo both shout "yes!" and "no!" at the same time, like, respectively. It's pretty funny. And they were like, "Oh, okay, we're just gonna go to the Arby's down the road." [laughs] The phone rings, so Ellen picks it up as Jo starts talking to the boys. She mentions that she has found a case, a missing person case. Over the past eight years, six women have vanished, all the same building, all blondes. Nobody has picked up the connection, but she did. So she wants to check it out. Dean like, asks, "Who put this together? Ash?"

C: Fuck off, Dean.

G: [laughing] Which I thought was so... Dean. Come on, Dean.

C: Yeah!

G: And Jo was like, "I did it myself!" And Dean's like, "Huh." And I was like... you- you fucking asshole.

C: Shut up, Dean!

G: Shut up, Dean.

Ellen comes in and says, "Well, if you like the case so much, you should go check it out." And Jo protests, but Ellen says, "Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. I won't lose you too. I just won't." I think Samantha Ferris does a good job of acting Ellen, don't you think?

C: Yeah.

G: I think both- I don't really know the actress for Jo's name. I think she also does a good job of playing Jo. Like, Jo and Ellen are believable people, and, you know, like, in the past episodes we complained that they're not given a lot. This episode, they really get to shine, and I love that. Like, I think the actors carry it well, I think the story carries it well. It's all super fun.

-

C: So the Impala goes into Philadelphia, where the cases is. It's just Sam and Dean together. And they go to the apartment building where we saw that woman disappear. Sam says that he feels kind of bad taking Jo's case, and Dean says, "Yeah. Maybe she put together a good file, but could you see her out here working one of these things? Ha. I don't think so." [laughing] What's wrong with this man?

G: Literally, what's wrong with him? Later on, he reveals that he's actually upset-

C: Yeah, but that doesn't explain most of his behavior. It explains him trying to keep her away. It doesn't explain him being so dismissive of her skills.

G: The charitable reading here is he's saying this because she's an amateur and not because she's a woman, but it really just comes off as "She's a girl, she can't do hunting," you know?

C: Yeah. Also, like, if he has anything against amateurs, like, in season one, they pick up a new girl every week and have her go on the hunt with them even though, like, she didn't even know how to shoot a gun. [G laughs]

G: Yeah!

C: Like, you let Sarah come along but not Jo?

They start running their EMF readers around the abandoned apartment, and Sam gets something from the light switch. They see the, like, black tar goo or whatever coming out of it, and they see that it is ectoplasm.

G: Whoo! Hell yeah, dude!

C: Sam reveals the lore that you have to be "one majorly pissed-off spirit" in order to produce ectoplasm. Which is fun, I guess. Does this come back at any point?

G: Oh, yeah. Ectoplasm is a thing in Supernatural. That's why I was like, "Hell yeah, dude." I'm not sure, actually, if it's a thing in  Supernatural or it's a thing in the fanfiction cases I read.

C: It's just a thing, like, ghost media in general, but yeah, maybe it's in fanfiction too.

G: Yeah. I enjoy ectoplasm, so, hell yeah, dude. I love physical manifestation of horrors, so.

C: Mm, yeah.

G: But also, what's fascinating is, because it's an ectoplasm story, right, they also made the ghost- because this is a ghost, right? This is a spirit.

C: Yeah.

G: He is so concrete that I was mostly confused. [laughs] Cas voice- Jensen Ackles Cas voice, "I'm mostly confused."

C: [laughing] No!! [G laughing] No. No.

Yeah, so as they keep investigating, they hear voices. And it's Jo, talking to the landlord acting like she's interested in renting out the place. Dean steps out from behind his hiding spot and goes, "What the hell are you doing here?" And then Jo, the absolute queen, decides that today is a fake dating case fic.

G: Yes! Hell yeah, dude!

C: She said, "There you are, honey," and like, sorta like, grabs Dean around the waist and goes, "This is my boyfriend Dean, and his buddy Sam." And then- [sighs] Okay, so the landlord is, like, friendly, I guess, but also says, "Quite a gal you've got here." Okay, shut up. And then Dean smacks her ass, and then says, "Oh, yeah, she's a pistol." So we're giving him a point, right?

G: I... like, I guess I saw this as roughhousing, but- why? What's your perspective?

C: I just don't think you should smack people's asses. [laughs]

G: Hm. I mean, that's true. [both laugh]

C: So...

G: Imagine if I followed that up with "but." [both laughing] "But actually..." No, it's true. Okay, you can give him a point.

C: Alright.

G: But I guess my hesitation comes from like, the narrative not really framing it that way, but like, when has that never stopped us?

C: [laughs] Yeah. Okay, so that’s Dean’s fifth misogyny of the season.

So- oh, [laughing] and also, when Dean does that, Sam makes a little face like, "What the fuck, bro?"

They keep chatting to the landlord, who's confused about how Dean got in. But Jo changes the subject, and she says [laughing], "Well, her loss-" the previous tenant's loss- "our gain. 'Cause if Deano loves it, it's good enough for me." And Dean says, "Oh, sweetie," and then he smacks her on the ass again. So.

G: [laughing] I think that counts as one singular point.

C: Yeah, it does count as one singular point only, but still, I am glaring at him a lot. But also, I mean, if there was less ass-smacking, this would be sort of a fun, cute scene. I love when people are mad at each other and fake-dating.

G: I know.

[laughing] I think I posted, "I enjoy Deanjo. I'm sorry, women" [C laughing] when I was watching this scene.

C: So yeah, so Jo pulls out a bunch of cash, and is just like, "Yeah, I'll take the apartment." Apparently, they don't have to sign a lease or anything.

G: Fun stuff.

-

G: In the apartment, Jo and Dean are talking, and Dean asks, like, "What does Ellen know about this?" and Jo says, "Oh, I told her I went to Vegas," [both laugh] and that I asked- that she asked Ash to lay out a credit card trail to the casinos. Sam asks like, "Where did you get all that money?" [Jo reveals that hunters are not that good at poker, but before she says that, Dean says, "Where did you get that money? Hunters don't tip that well." [both laughing] And I was like, "Dean Winchester is a bad tipper, confirmed."

Dean's phone rings, and as he answers it, it's Ellen. Ellen's asking if Jo is with her. Dean, like, holds the phone back and starts talking to Jo, and it's a very cute scene. Like, they're whispering to each other, like, "I'm telling her!" like, "Oh, no you don't fucking tell her! Don't fucking tell her!" "I'm gonna tell her! I'm gonna tell her!" you know. It's that kind of scene. And Dean immediately goes to the phone and goes, "I haven't seen her." [both laugh] And then, you know, Ellen says, "If you see her, drag her ass back here." Dean says, "Yeah, of course," and then they hang up.

C: Also, earlier in the scene- Sam is being such a "I to am in this episode" this episode.

G: Yes!

C: Like, he's barely a character. He's got nothing going on. Yeah, I think there's a moment where Dean tells Jo that she shouldn't be on the hunt in the scene, and Jo looks over at Sam for support, and he just does a little shrug, and it's like, come on, Sam. Come on, please?

G: What do you think would Sam's perspective be in this episode? Because that's something I find interesting.

C: Yeah.

G: Because would he, like, let Jo do her thing, because that would be like, reflective of his desire to do his own thing, or would he be like, "Jo shouldn't go hunting" because it would be reflective of his desire to not necessarily go hunting, you know?

C: Right. I think specifically, the fact that Ellen tells Jo, like, "If you want to go, then go to school" would probably trigger Sam's, like, "God, I wish I had Ellen as a mom instead of John, and Jo's so lucky that her mom supports her going to school and getting out of the life, so I feel kind of bitter that she's not taking this opportunity" instincts.

G: I'm actually going the opposite. Like, I think he would be encouraging of her doing what she wants.

C: Mm.

G: But yeah. We'll never fucking know, I guess. Maybe we will in future episodes.

C: Yeah, 'cause he only "to is in this episode." [laughs]

-

C: We cut to a little later where Jo's going through blueprints of the apartment, and she is also flipping a small knife around as she does so.

G: Love it!

C: Stimming queen, autism queen, ADHD queen, love her.

She says that this place was built in 1924 but only converted into apartments a few months ago. And before that, it was an empty field. Sam suggests that there was a violent death in the building, but Jo says, "There's nothing." Dean says in just the rudest little, like, condescending voice goes, "Oh, so you've checked police reports and county death records?" And Jo's like, "Yeah, and obituaries and mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing." And Dean says, "I think the jury's still out on that one." Why is he being such a fucking bitch?

G: The thing is like, his motivation, as we are supposed to believe is, he thinks it's fine that Jo's doing research, but she shouldn't go on a hunt. So why is he disparaging her research, you know?

C: Yeah.

G: Like, it's just feels so mean-spirited.

C: Yeah. He's just being so rude.

And he tells her to put the knife down. And Sam thinks maybe it's a cursed object with a spirit in it, so they decide to go scan the whole building. Dean says that he and Jo will take the top two floors together, and Jo says, "We should split up," and Dean says, "Oh, this isn't negotiable."

G: Okay. Oh, I'm gonna get the gender studies line! [both laugh]

So Jo and Dean are walking down a hallway of the apartment building with EMF readers. Jo makes a joke that like, "Oh, if you are gonna ride me this close, it's only decent you buy me dinner," you know. Shit like that. Dean expresses regret lying about where Jo is to Ellen, but he says, "That's all I'm gonna do. I'm not letting you out of my sight," and points out that Jo is the spirit's type. She's blonde she's petite, all that.

Jo says, "Yeah, exactly," and this takes Dean aback. He's like, "Oh, you wanna become bait?" Jo says, "It's the quickest way to draw it out, and you know it." [laughs] Dean's all like, "Oh, I'm fucking regretting this already."

This is when Jo calls Dean out for his, quote, "chauvinist crap." She says, "Oh, you think women can't do the job." [laughing] And Dean says [C groans] dun-dun-dun... [overlapping] "Sweetheart, this isn't gender studies."

C: Shut the fuck up, Dean. [G laughing] I love how he's like, "I'm not a chauvinist, but I will condescendingly call you sweetheart." Like, alright.

G: I know.

C: Can we just give him a point for how fucking annoying that line was?

G: Is the catfight point just like, a point just for the catfight? Because I thought it would be like, a more general thing.

C: Oh, okay, then fine, alright, I'll just bundle it into the catfight point.

G: Yeah.

And Dean says, "Women can do the job." [laughing] Hashtag "I am not a misogynist, what are you talking about?" He says, like, the problem isn't that Jo is a girl, it's that... [laughing] she is a woman. [C laughing] No, no, an amateur. And that she has no experience. He says, "What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barflies put in your head." Jo says, "Now you sound like my mother," and Dean replies, "Oh, that's a bad thing? Because let me tell you-" [laughing] And then Jo's like, "What?" And Dean, like, forgets what he's about to say, and he says, "Forget it." And then they start walking around some more.

Dean says that "You've got options. No one in their right mind would choose this life. My dad started me on this when I was so young. I wish I could do something else." Well, that's just sad. [laughs]

C: Yeah.

G: And, you know, Dean says, "I do love the job, but it's because I'm a little twisted."

C: So true.

G: And Jo says, "You don't think I'm twisted myself?" I love twisted women! Yes! Go Jo!

Anyway, Dean says, "You've got a mother that worries about you, who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. Might be hard to find later." Is he projecting?

C: Yeah. Yeah. [laughs] A lot.

G: Obviously. I mean, duh.

I guess this is why I think Sam would have- would be like, more supportive of Jo. Because, like, in my head I'm like, "Dean is already against her, so if they make Sam against her too, it's like two vs one. It's not appealing." But I mean, Sam doesn't need to be a foil to Dean all the fucking time, so, who knows. But also later on in Supernatural...

C: Sam can be misogynistic too! Equality!

G: [laughing] Exactly! Hashtag equality.

C: Hashtag let Sam be misogynistic.

G: Later on, in season 10, I think- or a season where Claire is in, you know, Sam says, "It's her life, she gets all the calls" about choice- about Claire choosing to hunt, so, like, I do think Sam would support Jo in whatever it is she wants to do.

C: Yeah.

G: I just wish we could have seen it.

C: Yeah, instead of him just standing in the background, shrugging at her.

-

C: Okay, so they get closer to a grate near the floor, and Jo spends some time standing in front of it. And then, we see this grimy hand go through the vent and try to grab her leg. But she turns around in time, gasping. Dean says he smells something weird but he doesn't know what it is, and then Jo-

G: He says, specifically, "I know it, I just can't put my finger on it."

C: Mm.

G: Which we will fucking go back to later, put a pin on that right now.

C: Jo puts her EMF reader near the grate, and it starts going off. So they decide that the spirit is probably in the vent. Dean has her hold the flashlight as he unscrews the grate, and then- "Oh, I hate when people are amateurs so I'm just gonna stick my fucking arm into a vent with a spirit in it and not even shoot some salt in there first" okay, Dean. He just like-

G: No, he's confident that he's not the target.

C: I mean they could still, like, attack him a bit for trying to like, keep the spirit away from the target. But also, I understand your point. This episode's a big loss for blond Dean truthers. [G laughs]

G: Exactly.

C: He feels around and sees that there's something there, and he pulls out, like, this big clump of blonde hair with like, blood at the end of it. It's really gross-looking.

G: There's a piece of skull, yeah. It's like, connected to scalp too. It's fucking disgusting, bro.

C: Uh-huh. So he says, "Okay, so the spirit's been keeping souvenirs."

-

G: In the apartment, there's another blonde woman walking inside her apartment. Ectoplasm drops from the ceiling to a paper that she's reading, and then the lights start flickering.

C: [laughing] The paper is an invitation to a lingerie party. Did you notice that?

G: I was like- yeah- I was like, well [laughing] hashtag lesbianism. But she throws it away, so, tough luck.

She sees a large crack appear in the ceiling, and the way it's appearing is like someone is scratching the ceiling, you know. Like, someone is holding a knife. Like, it's a la "Hook Man," you know? Anyway, she gets a little bit freaked out. She goes to the phone, there's only static. She goes to the door to try to get out, she can't open it. And there's a grate beside her, beside the door, much like the grate that we saw Dean and Jo open earlier. And she stares at it. She stares at it because the cracks lead to there. And a hand comes out of the grate and grabs her. And she struggles and struggles, and then the scene cuts.

-

C: So in the morning, in the apartment [G starts laughing], Dean is sleeping on the couch in... a position.

G: The worst position ever. What is this?

C: Yeah, I don't- he's like, on his stomach but also on his arm, and also his back is like, halfway twisted around, and his legs are weird. He's just not doing good.

So, and we hear some police sirens or ambulance sirens or something nearby. He wakes up to Jo at the table, studying the blueprints again and twirling her knife around again. And she tells him, "Morning, princess." And apparently, Sam went out to get coffee. [G laughs] They just fucking made this up.

G: [laughing] Literally.

C: Literally, Sam is standing in a room, starting at a wall, like a Sim.

G: [laughs] Yeah. He's not even carrying coffee when he comes back!

C: Dean asks- Dean gets up and he's like, "Ugh, my back hurts so much because you go to sleep on the bed." [laughing] Your back hurts because of your weird as fuck sleeping position, Dean! I'm sure the couch could've been fine. Jo says that she hasn't been sleeping [G starts laughing] because she's just been- [laughing] yeah. Absolute queen.

G: Amazing.

C: Yeah, I bet she fucking, like, fistfought Dean for the bed, and then was like, "You know what would be really funny?"

G: "If I didn't use it"? Yeah, go Jo.

C: [laughs] Yeah. Wait, sorry, this is sort of a deviation but have you seen the posts about like, whenever Destiel have a fight, then Cas demands the bed-

G: Dean would be on the couch? Yeah.

C: [laughing] Yeah, Dean would take the couch, and then halfway through, he would remember that Cas doesn't even need to sleep.

Dean takes out like, a much larger knife and hands it over to Jo, and he says, like, "Here," like, "Take this. It works a lot better than that little pig sticker you're twirling around." So, Jo, at this disparagement of her knife, hands the knife over to Dean, and he sees that engraved on it is "W.A.H.," which is Jo's dad's initials, William Anthony Harvelle. And Dean says, "I'm sorry. My mistake." And he takes his knife back.

So they start having a conversation about their fathers. Jo asks what Dean remembers about his dad. When he doesn't tell her, she insists. She seems kind of teary about the situation, going, "Come on, tell me." And Dean says that he remembers when he was six or seven and John took him shooting for the first time. At six or seven. And apparently, Dean bullseyed every single one of the bottles on the fence. And John gave him this-

G: [laughs] Do you believe that?

C: I... I think the writers believe it and Dean believe it, but it seems highly unlikely.

G: Literally.

C: Like, shooting a gun is hard, right? The rebound or whatever against your shoulder is like, a lot of force. Like, a six-year-old would probably just fall over.

G: I mean, I don't know if these writers have ever met a fucking six-year-old. [both laugh] But like, they are literally the clumsiest, you know, most- you don't give a six-year-old a gun.

C: Yeah.

G: So I think that's a testament on John being an asshole.

C: Right.

G: But also, I guess, specifically, I just don't think it's true! I think Dean- I think Dean is misremembering something.

C: Yeah. I guess my first thought when I heard that was like, that Dean was gonna say afterwards, "Of course, I only did that because I'd been like, secretly practicing at night while he was asleep or gone so that I could like, impress him later," but he didn't say it. We're just supposed to believe that he got all them first shot.

He says, "He gave me this smile, like... I don't know." And Jo says, "He must have been proud." And Dean asks about her dad, and she says that, "Well, I was really young when he died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like Steve McQueen [G starts laughing] or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms-"

G: Is McQueen an old reference?

C: I don't- who is Steve McQueen?

G: [laughing] He's the guy from Cars.

C: No, that's Lightning McQueen. [G laughing]

G: Really? [both laughing] Oh noo!

C: Okay, Steve McQueen appears to be an actor in the 1960s. [both laughing] He's not the car from Cars.

[laughing] So true, though. Literally, her talking about her dead dad- "he would bust into that door like Lightning McQueen [both laughing] from Cars."

G: Oh, Jesus Christ. [laughing]

C: So she says, "And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his." Oh, leather jackets and hunters. Why? And she says, "And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were... we were a family. You want to know why I want to the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me. What's wrong with that?" And Dean, who looks quite moved, says, "Nothing."

G: A part of me was like- oh Dean- I don't remember this conversation, so I was like, "Oh, maybe Dean will say that, like, your dad would have wanted you to be safe," and I would have- that would have pissed me off.

C: Yeah.

G: So I'm glad that he didn't. I'm glad that he said "There's nothing wrong with that," you know, "remembering your father is okay."

C: Yeah, agreed.

Though, I mean, unfortunately, like, so, sorry Jo, but the only thing I could think of during this scene was how in The Winchesters script, [laughing] John volunteered for the Vietnam War so he could feel closer to his dad.

G: Noo! This is different. This is different.

C: It is absolutely different, but like, yeah. I just- I just think that people. Yeah, I'm glad that Jo has picked a better thing to do to honor her dad than volunteer for the fucking Vietnam War.

Sam comes in and interrupts the moment. [laughing] The transcript says, "Sam bursts through the door like Steve McQueen or something." [both laughing]

G: [laughing] Like Lightning McQueen.

C: Yeah, exactly.

If anything, I- who do you think in Supernatural is the Lightning McQueen of Supernatural?

G: I've never watched Cars.

C: Oh, okay.

G: Which is probably why I thought Steve McQueen was Lightning McQueen.

C: Yeah. I guess his whole thing is just that he's like, overconfident and full of himself and he needs to be taken down a notch by visiting a small town and befriending the cars there.

G: Oh, definitely Cas, then.

C: He's not- Cas isn't like, full of himself and like, being a rock star, though. Ugh, alright, I can see that.

Yeah, [laughing] I think that the fictional character Jensen Ackles from the Supernatural episode “The French Mistake” is the Lightning McQueen of Supernatural.

G: [laughing] Oh my god, now I'm thinking a Cars Destiel AU. [C laughs] I'm sure someone has done it. Wait, let me look up. "Destiel Cars AU."

C: Yeah, no, you're right. I feel like people could definitely cast Dean as Mater and Cas as Lightning McQueen, or the other way around.

G: Like, Cas is like, a guy that like, shows up in a small town to learn car vanity [laughing], you know? So.

C: Yeah. Yeah, Dean's the rusty pickup truck that he befriends. Or Dean is like, the pretty blue Porsche who Lightning McQueen's actual love interest is.

G: No, he's definitely the fucking rusty truck.

C: [laughing] Yeah.

G: And he's like- and Cas is like, to his sports car family, like, "Look at this handsome car that I found on earth!" [C laughing] and they're all, like, "He's literally the ugliest motherfucker I've ever seen."

C: [laughing] I hope Dean's, like, butt-ugly by angel standards.

G: [laughing] I know.

C: You know the Lord of the Rings, like, "ach, nae, but I love him" Tumblr post?

G: Yeah.

C: About how, like, Legolas might be super ugly by dwarf standards? That's Destiel.

G: Exactly.

C: Did you find any Cars AUs of Destiel?

G: There's just like, you know, they're like, making out on top of the car.

C: Boo. Not the same thing.

C: Alright, so Dean asks, "Where's the coffee?" And Sam doesn't answer, he just says, "There were cops outside. Another girl disappeared."

G: So in the motel room, the- I was gonna say "the boys," but they're not the boys. In the motel room, Sam, Dean, and Jo are looking over their notes once again, and they're discussing what happened to Teresa, who is the woman who got taken by the ghost earlier. Dean is still confused as to who it may be because the history of the building is clean. Like, no one has died a bad death in this building. And Jo, who's very smart, picks up a picture of the lot that the building was built on, like, from years past, and she says, "Maybe we're looking at the wrong place. Check this out." And she shows the picture of the empty field, but beside the empty field is a building with bars on the window. And they realize that they're next to a prison. Or at least the building was when it was built. Jo calls up Ash, who she threatens. [laughs] Like, we only see the tail end of the call, and she's like, "If you breathe a word of this to my mom. Yeah, that's right. I will. With pliers." [both laugh] And I was like, "Go Jo!"

C: Yeah.

G: I love a woman who threatens violence.

So the prison is called Moyamensing Prison, and it was torn down in 1963, so it's not around anymore. And they used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door. So this place is probably full of spirits who were hanged by the prison. They got a list, and during this scene, we have a shot of the laptop, and then panning to Sam, and we see very clearly his hand, which is on a cast.

C: Yeah.

G: I was like, "Cool, bro. Cool cast, bro." [C laughs] And they have 157 names running on their laptop right now, and they're talking about narrowing it down when Sam finds a name that looks familiar. Herman Webster Mudgett. And Sam's like, "Wait, hold on. Isn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?"

C: I love that Sam's a true crime girl.

G: Yeah. I'm kind of offended that they made Dean know who H.H. Holmes is-

C: Yeah.

G: Or I guess like, knowing him is like, fine, but the kicker is that Sam knew his real name, so like, true crime buff galore. I love it. I love- I love this scene. It's like, this is the beginnings of a truly Sam character trait.

C: Yeah.

G: And the thing is like, it's so- I feel like it's so in character for Sam to be a true crime buff. Like, of course he fucking is, you know? Apparently, this H.H. Holmes guy was executed back in 1896 in this lot. And Dean explains to Jo, who doesn't know this guy, who this guy is. And he is the reason why the term multimurderer was invented, America's first serial killer, 27 murders but probably a lot more. "His victim of choice was pretty, petite blondes. He used chloroform to kill them, which is what I smelled in the hallway last night." And I was like, "Oh, that sucks that Dean knows what chloroform smells like."

C: Yeah, when do you think he was chloroformed?

G: I would rather not think about it, I feel.

C: Fair.

G: But yeah. So that's the pin we put there earlier. He knows what chloroform smells like. What a sad man.

C: I mean, maybe he just like, has chloroformed monsters on hunts before, though, you know? Like, maybe it was never in his face.

G: How?

C: I don't know, maybe he ran into a werewolf, and he was like, let's like, get you passed out.

G: Does chloroform kill? Because I thought chloroform was like, passing out agent.

C: Me too, yeah. Maybe if you hold it over their face long enough, they'll die of suffocation and the chloroform will also be there. [laughing] "I to am in this murder." [both laugh]

G: Yeah. Jo says, "Oh, we can just salt and burn the boats, then," but apparently [laughs], as foreshadowed by my comment- last episode?- where I said- or was it a couple of episodes ago-

C: Oh, yeah.

G: - where I said that, in the Philippines graves are covered by concrete. This guy's grave is covered by concrete, so they can bury- they can't unbury the bones and burn it.

So, Sam brings out the Murder Castle, which is a place that H.H. Holmes built, where he- where it's basically a death factory. That's what Sam calls it. Like, trap doors, acid vats. Inside the walls, there are like, people kept in them, and, like, they die out of hunger.

And so Jo realizes that Teresa might still be alive, she just may be inside the walls. So they go to search for Theresa inside the walls.

C: Yeah. I guess a quick factcheck on H.H. Holmes- the Murder Castle has been greatly exaggerated, there were no like, acid pits or whatever. Like, he did kill quite a few people, but it never really was because he liked murdering that much.

G: It was for money.

C: Like, he seemed to just want fun and profit, and he'd just like, kill like, his business partners. And also he'd kill, like, mistresses and stuff because he sucked. And also like, I didn't find any evidence that he went after blondes specifically. Like, that's a common serial killer thing, but it's not an H.H. Holmes thing. So.

G: Yeah.

C: I mean, I guess charitably they just like, made that up for this episode so that Jo could come along. [G laughs] Uncharitably, they just- I don't know. You know. It's just a fucking- they do- they just wanted to watch blonde women suffer because [laughing] Supernatural is the number one employer of blonde women in the US.

G: I am- I feel bitter that it's inaccurate, because Sam is- Sam would know better, you know.

C: Yeah. Sam would know better. But maybe in the Supernatural universe, H.H. Holmes, in fact, had all this shit.

G: [laughs] Yeah, exactly.

C: Yeah. I will change the world so that Sam can be correct.

We cut to Dean and Jo. Again. "Who give a fuck about Sam?" should be the title of this episode, 'cause they clearly don't. [both laugh]

We cut to Dean and Jo inside the walls, going around, looking for places Theresa might be hidden. Jo's presumably on the phone with Sam, who can't find anything. They reach a passageway that's too narrow for Dean to get through, but Jo is able to squeeze past him. And as she does that, Dean says-

G: Yeah.

C: "Ugh. Should've cleaned the pipes!" You don't say that out loud, Dean! That's so fucking rude!

G: I know! [laughing] Keep that shit to yourself, bro!

C: [laughing] Keep that shit to yourself, bro. Also, you were sleeping on the couch in the living room, like, so yeah, it's good that you didn't clean the pipes.

Yeah, Jo goes, "What?" and Dean says, "Uh... I wish the pipes were cleaner." And then Jo just says, "Shut up."

G: And then Jo- Jo fucking elbows him, so, go Jo. [laughs]

C: Yeah, so she decides that she's gonna go through the passageway alone, despite Dean's protests, and she keeps going. They're no longer able to see each other, so Dean calls her. She keeps heading down dark and grimy passageways and finds an air duct that she starts heading down. Dean tells her to not- to like, stay up here, etc, etc., and Jo says, "We've gotta find this girl, don't we? I'm okay." How do we think- what do we think Jo is thinking here? Is like- do we think that she's actually this fixated on the hunt? Also, why doesn't she have a salt gun on her?

G: I think, you know, she has something to prove, so. I mean, of course, there's the whole like, "We've gotta save Teresa," but I think a lot of her motivation stems from "I've got to prove myself to my mom, to Dean and Sam." [laughing] Oh my god, the Samgirls are coming for my head because I said "Dean and Sam." [laughing]

C: Yeah, no, it's okay. Samgirls, it's okay. Grey just said that 'cause Dean's, the most misogynistic, so Jo would be thinking of him first in terms of who to prove herself to.

G: No, exactly! That's exactly why I said that.

C: Yeah. So she is being a bit reckless or at least like, trying to tamp down her feelings of fear. She also might be feeling a bit embarrassed because when they were explaining H.H. Holmes, and she didn't know who he was, like, I guess she probably felt kind of dumb not knowing who he was and also like, being a bit scared hearing about him. So she's like, over-performing right now.

G: Yeah.

C: Ugh, sorry Jo. So Jo goes down the air duct, and she's on like, a lower level of the building now, and she sees ectoplasm start coming out of the wall cracks. And Dean's asking, "What is it? Jo!" and he hears her scream over the phone. He starts running down to near where she was and starts beating the shit out of this wall. Does- where- is the landlord not hearing any of this? Like, I'm assuming he lives in the building.

G: I was like, "Literally, how did they leave this fucking building? It's so wild!"

C: Yeah, like, you're not getting your deposit back, and also, like, geez.

G: It's so wild what they do to this fucking building and to the lawn outside of this building, like. They're really just fucking ruining the place. [both laugh]

C: I mean like, that's fine, we hate landlords, but also, like, ow!

Dean finally makes it through a wall and sees that Jo is missing. Her cell phone's on the floor, alone. Dun dun dun.

-

G: Yeah, so Dean is running up the hallway when he bumps against Sam, and he relays that the Mr. Holmes has got Jo because he left her alone. And he is obviously very upset about this whole ordeal. I mean, obviously, he should be, but it's upset in a way that's like, blaming himself. He thinks it's his fault. I mean, it kinda is. [both laugh] So Sam says, "Oh, we'll just look for her inside the walls," and Dean says, "Walls? She's not inside a wall, since we checked all the walls and Teresa's not there." So back in the apartment, they talk about what's going on with this entire case when Ellen calls. And she says, "You lied to me. She's there. Ash told me everything. So put my damn daughter on the phone." And Dean says, "She's gonna call you back. [laughs] She's taking care of feminine business."

C: Jesus Christ. You can just say that-

G: Dean. Dean. What does he mean by that? What do you think he's implying?

C: I think that, like, she's like, changing her pad or tampon in the bathroom, I think. [G laughs] You could just say that she's in the bathroom.

G: Anyway, Ellen demands to talk to Jo. Dean says, finally, "Look, we'll get her back." And then he says that the spirit they're hunting took her. And then he says, "She'll be okay. I promise." And Ellen says, "You promise. That is not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester." Ooh.

C: Go Ellen, but also, ah, god.

G: I know.

C: This episode must suck for her so bad.

G: Yeah. It sucks, especially the end, right? Like, it sucks for Ellen and Jo. And you feel it too. Like, you feel it through the screen that like, it sucks for them. Anyway, we'll talk about when we get to it.

Ellen says she's gonna take the first flight out, and she will be there in a couple of hours. Dean is, you know, very upset about all this.

Sam figures out that in the Murder Castle, he didn't just hide people inside the walls, he also hid them in the basement. Dean remarks that there's no basement in this place, Sam says, "But there's like, a weird sewage system that's not in use anymore," and Dean's immediately like, "Okay, let's fucking go."

-

C: So we cut to Jo, stuck in the sewer system. She is in like, some small, dark place lying down. So she turns on her flashlight and sees how small the space is, and she also sees that like, I guess the wall in front of her has a bunch of fingernail scratches and blood in it, like, there's been a lot of people in there who have tried to scratch their way out.

G: I know. It's a good visual.

C: Yeah.

G: And the way she starts crying immediately afterwards is like, "Oh, no!" Like, you really feel her dread, really feel her, I don't know, kind of regret, I feel.

C: Yeah.

G: It's- like, the visual is very good. Like, when it happened, I literally was like, "[loud gasp] Noo!" like, you know? I was really invested.

C: Mm-hm. Yeah. So like you said, she starts crying a little bit, but then she like, sorta scrubs her face and takes a deep breath so that she can pull herself together to investigate further. Which, yeah, I think was a good moment. Like, I think that the parts where we do see Jo hunting, they do a good job of showing like, "She's new at this, but she's like, still good at it, and, like, we're not gonna make fun of her for her moments of distress."

G: Yeah.

C: So she- there's like, a little slit in a wall next to her, so she can see out. Which is just like, a big round room with a lot of other like, little boxes where people can be in. She hears a noise, and it's Teresa. So they greet each other, and then Jo says, "This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you." [laughs] Yeah, I think there's quite a few visual parallels to Sam in [both] "The Benders." Yeah. Also in a cage like, "[laughs] Hi, I'm here to rescue you. Whoops!" But Teresa's luckily a better cellmate than whatever that guy's name was.

Teresa says, like, "Oh, god, he's out here. He's gonna kill us." And Jo reassures her that Sam and Dean are looking for them and will rescue them. And then we hear footsteps from the spirit coming, and they quiet down. And then, the fucking creepy hand goes through the slit and grabs Jo's hair, and she's like, screaming and like, crying as it like, rips a chunk of her hair off. It's like, it's very visceral.

-

G: Sam and Dean are in some field beside the building, and they have a metal detector and a shovel. And Sam stops over one spot where the metal detector is buzzing, and they start digging. They uncover a metal trap door. They open it up, they take their weapons, and they start climbing down the fucking sewer.

In the prison area sewer thing, Jo is in her cell. She hears footsteps approach, and the man is beside her again. He starts talking to her, and this is when you kind of realize that this ghost is different from a lot of other ghosts we've seen before, because he is a solid person. The guy is like, very creepy. He goes, "You're so pretty. So beautiful." And then he creeps a hand inside the cell and starts touching her shoulder, touching her neck. And she turns away. And then turns right back and stabs his hand with her knife, which is made of pure iron, so it stings him. Sam and Dean are still crawling through the sewers. You see, like, the sewer water where they're crawling, [laughs] and it's pretty funky disgusting.

Jo's still in her cell, and she was wondering whether Holmes is gone when he starts grabbing her again, and he puts a hand over her mouth, so he's chloroforming her. When suddenly, Sam and Dean come in and shoots Holmes right in the chest. And he disappears. Dean gets a crowbar and starts unlocking Jo's cell, passes the crowbar to Sam, who unlocks Teresa's cell.

Dean tells Jo, "Hey, remember when you said you wanted to be bait? I think that's our best idea right now."

C: Which is like- they're not even offering her any comfort before, like, going right into that? Like, she's clearly shaken up!

G: I know!

C: Ugh, yeah. Also, like, I guess I'm just kind of annoyed that we had two episodes in a row where the bad guys' main trait is like, trying to sexually assault women. We don't need that that often. Like, calm down a little bit.

G: I think here, it's like, like you said, they did it that way so that Jo can participate, but like, you know, like, Supernatural has this thing where like, "Oh, if a Black person is in the episode, it's like, they're being hunted because they're Black." And with Jo, it's like, "She's being hunted because she's a woman and she's the monster's type." And it's like, you can do this without that. Like, this, this guy can just be hunting people, period. Like, you know.

C: Yeah.

G: But I guess they wouldn't be able to do the bait thing that they did that.

-

C: So we cut to Jo, and she's like, sitting alone in the middle of the room. And she's like, clearly freaked out, but she's staying still as the ghost appears behind her and then starts walking towards her. And then, once he gets like, really, really close, Dean yells, "Now!" and Jo sort of rolls out of the way. Sam and Dean shoot at something on the walls. And then, apparently, they put up a bunch of bags of salt on the wall which all like, burst open and create a perfect little circle of salt around Holmes, so he's trapped.

G: Hell yeah, dude.

C: How hard did it take- like, how difficult was it to like, set that up?

G: I know. Like, salt is heavy.

C: I feel like there's probably be a- yeah. And there'd probably be like, a gap in the circle. Like, how'd they get the circle so nice? Still a fun idea, though. And Holmes starts like, [laughing] screaming, crying, throwing up about this.

G: Basically.

C: Yeah, he's like, really upset. I guess because it's like, like, not as cool of a quote unquote "kill" or like, defeat with the monster, they had to like, really show him suffering about it so you could feel triumph. And it is nice to see him screaming, crying, throwing up. So, as they head out, Jo yells, "Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" And I'm glad that she got the last line in this scene, 'cause like, she deserves it.

G: Yeah. Fascinating that she says dick instead of "son of a bitch."

C: This is gender studies.

G: [laughs] This is gender studies.

C: Yeah, does Jo ever say "bitch" in this episode?

G: No, I don't think so.

C: Okay. Yeah. So.

G: So they do know that it's like, weirdly gendered, the way they use "bitch" in the show, if they won't let the female character say it.

C: Yeah. Well.

G: Great. [laughs] This is gender studies. [both laugh]

C: Yes, it is.

G: Anyway, back in the street, Sam and Jo are standing over the grate. Sam asks Jo, "Oh, did you think this would be as glamorous as you thought it would be?" And Jo says, "Except for the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. That Teresa girl's gonna have a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?" Sam agrees. [sighs] This is their only interaction.

C: Yeah.

G: The entire episode.

C: They also have like, a cute moment in the back of the Impala.

G: Oh, yeah! That's not an interaction, though.

C: Yeah.

G: That's just- whatever that was. Anyway.

Jo asks the question that everyone has wanted to ask, which is "What if somebody goes down there and finds the guy? Or the storm washes the salt away?" And Sam says, "Oh, that's why we're waiting here." And by waiting, he means waiting for a fucking cement truck, bro! [both laugh] And a cement truck that Dean is driving pulls up, and they start cementing down the sewer thing. Dean says, "That oughta keep him down there till Hell freezes over." And I was confused as to how this works, exactly.

C: Yeah.

G: Because this thing is a spirit.

C: Yeah.

G: Which is- I guess that's why like, I kept on saying earlier that he's still concrete, he's so solid. Like, I think that's what they were trying to do. Like, this spirit, because he has ectoplasm, he's like, physically- it's a physical manifestation. He can be trapped by physical means.

C: Right.

G: Yeah. I think that's what they were trying to do. It's still a bit weird that this works.

C: Yeah. I'll take it, I guess, but yeah, the lore's-

G: Also, there's not enough cement in that fucking cement truck to fill up this whole thing.

C: [laughs] Right.

G: What is going on, Supernatural?

C: I guess like, as long as they just block off all the entrances, like, he can't leave. Like, he'll have like, some space to run around in.

G: "Hotel California"-core.

C: [laughs] Yeah.

-

C: Next, we cut to the Impala. Dean is driving, Jo and Sam are in the backseat- backseat boys! And Ellen is sitting next to Dean. [G starts laughing] Ellen looks fucking pissed.

G: [laughing] The reveal that Ellen is the one sitting next to Dean had me screaming and crying. Like, oh my god, they relegated Sam to the fucking backseat, that's so fucking funny! But like, I get it. Like, when my parents drive like, usually it's a mom and dad in front, right? But when a grandparent rides the car, they get front seat privileges. So like, I get it. But it's still so fucking funny!

C: I mean, because if we were doing the normal configurations, it would be Ellen and Jo in the backseat, and they would be like, fighting by now.

G: Oh, yeah, that makes sense. So Dean like, "Oh, Ellen, you take the front seat. Sam, you be the human barrier between these two." [both laugh]

C: Yeah.

Dean is trying to lighten the mood, and he tells Ellen, "Man, you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" And Ellen continues just staring straight ahead grimly. And Jo sort of looks at Sam and raises an eyebrow at him, and they sort of smile at each other, and it's a cute moment. Dean's like, "How about we listen to some music?" And he turns on the radio, and like, a second later, Ellen just like- her hand shoots out and she turns it off.

G: You don't recognize the song, because you didn't acknowledge it. It's "Cold As Ice" by Foreigner. [laughs] And like, the first line is "you're cold as ice," and it's like [laughs], it's just such a funny like, music choice for this moment, because, like, of course, you know, Ellen is literally cold as ice. And it's- it's extremely funny. I did burst out laughing.

C: [laughs] Yeah.

So Dean just sort of sighs and goes, "Well, this is gonna be a long drive."

-

G: So, in the Roadhouse, Ellen and Jo come in, followed by Sam and Dean. Dean says, you know, "This is my fault, Ellen. Jo did good up there. Her dad would be proud." And Ellen goes up and like-

C: Worst thing for him to say.

G: "Don't fucking say that." And then she says, "I need a moment with my daughter. Alone." Sam and Dean go outside, and Jo starts trying to defend herself, saying that she's okay, she's alive, Ellen's angry, but she understands... Ellen finally says what she is truly upset about, which is that Jo let Sam and Dean use her as bait. Jo says, "They were right there. They were backing me up the whole time." Ellen says, "This is why you do not have the sense to do this job. You're trusting your life to them." Jo's very confused. Ellen says, "Like father, like sons. This is what I'm talking about." Jo says, "John? I thought you and John were friends." And Ellen immediately retracts, and I was like, "What a good heart Ellen has that she's like, 'oh, John got my husband killed, but I still won't talk shit about him.'"

C: Yeah.

G: Like, this is portrayed as a moment of weakness for her that she immediately retracts. And it's like, "Oh my god! What a nice person!"

C: Yeah.

G: And Jo confronts her still. Like, "Mom, what are you not telling me?"

-

C: So we cut to the outside, where Sam and Dean are waiting. Jo comes out. She's clearly upset. She walks by them without saying a word, so Dean follows her. And he asks, "That bad, huh?" And Jo starts trying to shake him off, saying, "Not right now." When Dean, like, I guess, like, touches her arm and tells her to talk to him, she yells, like, "Get off me!" And Dean says, "Yeah, okay, sorry. See you around." And he starts leaving. But then Jo says, "Dean. Turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. He usually worked alone. This guy did too. But I guess my father figured he could trust him. Mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed." And Dean says, "What does this have to do with me?" And Jo says, "It was your father, Dean." And Dean's shocked, but Jo continues, saying, "Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Because he couldn't look my mom in the eye after, that's why." And she tells Dean like, "Just get out of here. Just leave." And she starts walking away again. And the episode closes on, like, Dean looking pensive. Boo. I'm sick of Dean shots.

G: This is not about Dean. This is not about Dean.

C: It's not about Dean. It should have been on Jo's face at the end.

G: Yeah, so that's the end scene. What do you- do you have anything to say about that reveal?

C: I think they did a good job working up to it. Like, it was pretty obvious, but like, it was also kinda of the point of episode. I guess I'm curious to see what will happen as an aftermath of that reveal.

G: Yeah. I like the reveal, but it didn't feel that strong to me because I just have seen this before and know what's gonna happen, so it's like, "Eh, yeah." But I bet if this is like, a first time, like, that reveal that John fucked up so bad, and that's why Ellen and Jo remain separate from Sam and Dean for so long, it's like, "Oh, well that sucks!" You know?

C: Yeah.

G: So it's a good reveal, yeah.

-

G: So what do you think about this episode?

C: Definitely better than last episode. I liked that Jo got a chance to shine, and I like that they like, actually made her a person. [laughs]

G: Yeah.

C: Yeah. Like, there's still some aspects of the case that I didn't like, but like, at least if you're looking at Jo vs Tracy, like, it's no fucking contest. Yeah, I think it's a good setup for future, like, Sam-Dean-Jo-Ellen relations.

G: I agree. I like this episode. I think, you know, like, I think they really expand on Jo and Ellen, and they feel- I mean, they also did feel like real people then, just people we didn't know. And now they are people we are getting to know! And that's really fun.

C: Yeah.

G: Best Line/Worst Line. What's your best line? I'll start, alright?

My best line is the one that I said earlier, when Ellen said- Jo says, like, “John? I thought you and John were friends," and Ellen says, "Yeah, we were. I'm sorry- I didn't mean-" That line is so character building, like, for the reasons I said earlier. But also, the idea that this is what happened between John and Mr. Harvelle, and yet the way Ellen welcomed Sam and Dean is still so open arms, you know? Like, it's very touching to think that there's so much baggage, so much history, and yet they just think of themselves as, you know, "We are a unit." Like, "it is essential that we stick together, especially now that there's like," as she said last episode, "a war coming." I think it's really good foundation for the relationship and adds complexity, especially to Ellen's character.

C: Yeah. I think my best line might just be when like, Dean says, like, “Yeah, I like the job because I'm a little twisted," and Jo says, "You don't think I'm a little twisted too?" Like, it's on the nose, but it's a good moment of like, "We are going to make sure that this character is a person."

G: For worst line. Hm. I think I'll go for "I should have cleaned the pipes." [C laughs] I groaned in real life. I was like, "Ughh, Dean. Come on!"

C: Yeah. Keep that shit to yourself.

G: What's your worst line?

C: I guess I'm gonna go with [laughing] "Sweetheart, this ain't gender studies." [both laugh]

G: And it's your worst line because it is gender studies.

C: Yeah, it literally is gender studies, all the time.

G: Yeah. So, IMDB rating. What is your IMDB rating for this episode?

C: See, I liked this one, but I also, again, know that Jo was pretty unpopular with viewers during the time.

G: Boo!

C: Yeah, so I feel like some people would rate it lower just 'cause they're like, "I don't like, care about this character and I don't like how much of a like, focus she got," but like, I thought it was pretty good. So I think I'm just gonna guess an 8.5 because it's definitely better than “Simon Said,” and that got an 8.5. So. Yeah, 8.5

G: Yeah, I... considering everything, I think I rated "Si-" do you remember how I read “Simon Said”?

C: I think, did you say like, an 8.3?

G: Mm, okay. So it makes sense- okay. I think I'm gonna rate this 8.4, not because I don't like it as much as you do, but just because I think, you know, it's a monster of the week, and we've seen how monster of the weeks this season are treated, like, rating-wise. So I'm lowballing it a bit, but I do think it deserves, like, an 8.5 or higher if so.

Okay, let's look!

Oh. It's an 8.2.

C: Aww. Okay. Sad.

G: Which is not that bad.

C: Yeah. But it's just weird that it's been like, like, episode one was like, a 9 something, and then it was-

G: Oh no!

C: - flat at 8.2 everywhere except for a 7.9 for "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things" and then a spike of 8.5 for "Simon Said." Like, that's not the direction that this like, line plot should be going in.

G: Yeah, I- this one review rates it 6 over 10 and says that they don't understand why Jo was hated before, but now they do.

C: What?? What did she do wrong?

G: Because- they think the writers screwed up Jo's character because she's too young for Dean, he only sees her as an inexperienced schoolgirl, a younger sister who has a chance for a normal life and a mother who wants more for her. How is that-?

C: What does that have to do with Jo? Like, that's- that's Dean's shit. I don't understand.

G: Oh my god. "Jo is no doubt a tough girl. She has a knife collection! But not too tough to be a hunter. The girl tries too hard, but I don't really know. Is it whether to make her daddy proud, or to impress Dean and make him see her as an equal?"

C: Boo!! Boo!

G: "All in all, Jo is not a good hunter. She has no solid plan hunting the ghost, she was too scared when it got her, and, if not for the boys, she would certainly be dead." Fuck off! The amount of time Sam and Dean would be dead-

C: Boo! Boo! You think that Sam and Dean don't almost die in every episode too?

G: They- another one rates 6 over 10 and says that Jo is also trying too hard. [C screams] "I like the show best when it's just the two brothers hunting together." Fuck off.

C: Ugh. God.

G: Why do we keep on reading IMDB reviews, Crystal? [both laugh] These people do not have our big brains.

C: So we can understand why- exactly. They did not. This person just said that they think that Jo went on the hunt because of Dean?

G: The fuck-

C: What's wrong with- she put together the file, she was gonna go herself before! Like, Dean going was like, an obstacle to her plans. Fuck off.

G: Ah. More complaints about how Dean and Jo end up becoming like, strongly platonic, and they start off romantic, so that's like, not in character for them. I've said this before, but like, I don't see a problem with that!

C: Yeah. it's fine.

G: They realize later on that it's not romantic. I think that's fine.

C: Yeah, I also think that's fine.

G: I feel like the problem- not the problem, but like, a perspective that we take when we watch Supernatural is, like, we acknowledge the writers- [both laugh] I mean, god knows, we acknowledge the fucking writers- but we do see the characters as people.

C: Mm-hmm.

G: I feel like that's a difference that we have from the reviewers. Like, they see it as like, writing choices. And we do as well, like, we talked about how this writing choice, that writing choice, blah blah blah. But we like to really settle in, and take a, you know, a jacuzzi on- [laughing] what am I saying? I mean like, we're like, we're like, stewing. Yeah, that's what I'm saying. We're like, stewing on the characters as people.

C: Yeah.

G: So I think that's the difference. Like, a real person, a real relationship that goes from romantic to platonic could make sense. But I guess, in writing, it does seem a little bit off that this is where they start, and the writers just forget, you know?

C: Yeah.

C: The last review on this page is correct. They gave it 9 and then just said, "With Jo, which is a good character." So true!

G: Yeah, exactly.

C: That's all you have to say, and that's the right amount of stars.

-

G: Okay, so that's it for this episode of Busty Asian Beauties. Next time, we'll be talking about Season 2, Episode 7: "The Usual Suspects." Leave us a rating or review wherever you get your podcasts.

C: 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's donated to our Ko-Fi at ko-fi.com/bustyasianbeautiespod.

G: You can email us any feedback, comments, or inquiries at bustyasianbeautiespod@gmail.com. See you guys next time! [both] Bye!

[guitar music]

[gigglinggoblin]

Getting a Little Familiar

Image used with permission from the amazingly talented Deepdiscourse, whose breathtaking hypnotic audio files and gorgeous photos (and video clips) are equally worth your attention and money! Go check out their work!

[pov: any, nsfw, 2nd person, reverse corruption, (initially) evil POV, hypnosis, magical mind control, mutual nonconsent (heavy), dolly, gender-neutral forcefem, pet play, breast fixation, kitten play, dressup, witch, femdom, praise, syrup mention, intelligence reduction]

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Oh, you poor, hopeless little thing. This didn’t go quite how you’d planned, did it?

Don’t feel bad. It was a really very lovely plan to try and hypnotize me! And really, even if it’s not working out quite as you’d hoped, I think you’ll be much happier this way, don’t you?

Aww. Look at you. Trying to put words together when all you really wanna do is stare at my lovely breasts like a helpless, needy little toy.

So cute.

So helpless.

And so adorable, thinking you’ll be able to put any words together at all that aren’t “yes, Mistress” and “yes, please, Mistress” when I’m through with you. Maybe some soft mewing. Mm, yes, that sounds just lovely, doesn’t it, sweetie?

I can already see all those silly thoughts glimmering in your eyes, rising to the forefront, rising to the top of the waves like soft, pretty pink jellyfish. All those plans for posing as a sweet, obedient little apprentice, pretending to be all silly and dumb and pliant, all eager to please while you worked your little schemes.

Now, now! No need to speak, kitten. Those pretty lips of yours look so much cuter half-parted like that, breathing in nice and slow. Nice and slow. Matching my breathing. In and out. In… and out.

Watch... my breasts… rise… and fall~

Good pet!

And doesn’t that feel nice? That’s right. Just keep watching my tits and listening to my words. They look so soft, don’t they? So smooth. So easy to get lost in.

And it feels so good to listen to Mistress and let her words fill your pretty empty head, trickling in heavier and heavier by the second, like sweet syrup, just... drowning all those thoughts in pleasure.

Isn’t that right? Hush-hush, kitten. Of course it is.

Good pets love to listen to Mistress. Mistress has such a pretty voice, doesn’t she? So nice to listen to and sink down-down-down-down-down, so deep, all those thoughts tugging you deeper, and deeper, and deeper, so heavy and cumbersome, getting heavier with every deeeep breath you take in, and out, and in, and out, and...

*giggle* That’s right! You’re doing so well! Goodness, you’re so adorably suggestible. So pliable. I’ve barely had to work any magic; I just suggested you’d like to look at my tits and let my sweet voice do the rest... and down-down-down you went. I just told you to listen like a good pet, and you nodded along with every single word…

… and happily allowed aaaaall that sweet, slow, heavy syrup to flow into your silly open mind.

Isn’t that right, pet?

Aw, hush, kitten. Of course it is~

[Thanks for reading! There’s more after the break, but if you enjoyed this story and want to read more like it, there’s tons more content on my Patreon. For just a few dollars a month, you gain access to alternate Bad Ends, bonus stories, polls on future content, early updates, erotic text-based roleplay/D&D games, and much, much more! If you can afford to, consider pledging, so I can keep posting Tumblr fics like this one on the regular! Thank you! <3]

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“Salamander folk” are a curiosity largely unique to witchcraft, homunculi created when a willing (or “willing enough”) mortal entices a witch into transmuting their being into something else. In this way, a witch can make a human something like a fey, and can change just about anything else she likes about the human in the process. Many witches favor catfolk and other beast-like features, but the witches have many options. Many, many options.

They just... they just really like catgirls, okay?

And in fairness, so do a lot of the girls who go to witches seeking transmutation. The transformation does not change gender, obviously, but it can be used to change certain physical aspects to be more within a person’s preferences, or, say, to make a cisgender boy look more feminine for the witch’s amusement.

(When a demon does this to a mortal, they are usually called cambions—true cambions, not the mock cambions arising from demon-mortal partnerings. It’s a much more... consuming process.)

Why are they called “salamander folk”? Not all labels make perfect sense. In this case, a “salamander” is old-fashioned magic slang for a partially-finished spell, implying a malleable sort of magic that has yet to be fully shaped. It’s almost never used in that sense anymore, though. It might be distantly related to the famous total immunity newts have to magic.

Many mortals deliberately seek witches out for this reason, desiring some manner of change to their form beyond mortal means, or else to become apprentices. Or, often, both. Many witches charge apprenticeship for a certain number of years in exchange, which isn’t always as mercenary as it seems. Apprenticeship allows a witch to guide and protect the salamander person through their transition, as well as to make sure that the transformation really is what they want. It can also make the transformation itself easier to effect—it’s not easy to change someone’s true form, and it often takes time and a mutual familiarity.

Notably, the reverse dynamic is quite common as well: Many would-be apprentices are expected to allow the witch to transmute them into different forms as a condition of being taught. This is ostensibly because the process of being transmuted involves tying spirits to the subject’s soul, and tends to make their overall form and connection with magic very malleable and easy to work with. These kinds of apprentices are called familiars.

Of course, some witches just want cute catboys and ravenpeople and dollygirls to toy with as they please.

Katrina of the Thousand Names is a particularly skilled witch, known less so for her raw power so much as her cunning, vast arrays of knowledge, and general good-naturedness. She knows hundreds and hundreds of spirits well, and is one of the most famously easy-going when it comes to transformations. If you know what you want, she’ll see it done for as small a price as cooking her meals for a few nights while she works the spell.

Of course, many seek to be her apprentices even if they aren’t looking for transformation, and she’s quite reasonable about this—as long as the apprentice acts in good faith. Many seek to steal her repository of powers to use for wickedness, even trying to hypnotize the witch into yielding them. These ill-behaved apprentices tend to find themselves serving a very different role indeed.

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My, my. Such an adorable, hopelessly malleable plaything you turned out to be!

I think this is all for the best, don’t you? You’re much better at being my pliant little doll than you ever were at being my apprentice. You’ll be so much cuter as my obedient, mewling, empty-headed kitten. And so much happier, too!

Oh, come now, kitten, none of that fussing. Kittens don’t need words, and neither do helplessly adoring little dolls. Doesn’t it feel so good to be nice and sweet and good for me?

No more schemes. No more plotting to steal all my secrets. Those all required thinking, and thinking is hard, and listening like a good pet is easy.

So... so... sooooo easy~

And listening feels so, so lovely, doesn’t it? Just letting my words take over. Breathing in and out so steadily, so hopelessly enthralled by the soft, gentle motion of my soft breasts rising… and falling...

All those plans required so many confusing thoughts, all swirling around in that silly head of yours. But all those wicked thoughts are being drowned in the sweet, wonderful syrup of my words now, aren’t they?

Can’t you just feel all that syrup flooding your mind, submerging every thought in a heavy, heavy sugary brainless docile trance?

All those thoughts about betraying me? All submerged, and so, so hard to pull up to the surface now, so deep, deep down as my breasts bounce slowly, softly, so, so softly...

All those thoughts about using my powers to make trouble? All drowned in warm, gentle waves of delicious syrup, caught like butterflies in amber, deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper as my voice goes on, and on, filling you with sweet, sugary obedient pleasure the longer it goes on, getting so, so hard to even remember anything else...

And oh... doesn’t it feel so much better to be sweet, kitten?

So much easier to be sweet.

So much easier to be a nice, happy, obedient bubbly helpful kitten for me.

And it feels so good to please me, doesn’t it, sweet thing?

So good to nod passively. So good to take my hand, so deeply hypnotized now, so deep-deep-deep under the honeyed waves and not even trying to resist anymore. So happy and dumb and heavy-headed now, just staring at my tits like a mewling, helpless kitten.

Aww, look at you squirming. So cute! Such a sweet little plaything I’ve found. Would you like to be a good pet for me?

Good pet!

Such a good, happy, obedient, needy, sweet little pliant kitten.

Aww, and don’t worry, sweetie.

I know how excited you were to use all my magic, to dress yourself up in my glamors, to bewitch and ensnare whoever gazed upon you. Of course I’ll be happy to let you! Oh, hush-hush, I insist!

Let me lead you into the dressing room, now, pet. There’s a good plaything.

I’m going to dress you up to look so pretty. I’m going to make you so gorgeous and adorable and eager to please. You’ll just be my cute, obedient, sweet dolled-up kitten. Just a happy little maid for me, isn’t that right? Hopelessly eager to help anyone who comes by. Helping others is going to feel so good for my good, obedient kitty.

I promise you’ll be every bit as spellbinding as you planned, sweetie. A pretty spellbound doll for everyone’s amusement. Everyone’s going to love you, and that’s going to feel soooo good.

Let’s go get you all dressed up and pretty, sweetie. There’s a good pet.

And maybe, once you’ve learned your lesson in a year or so…

… I’ll let you decide whether or not you want to stay that way forever~

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