#Jesus christ is this sword gonna be heavy as hell when it's done though

[solradguy]

SOON...

[a-secondhand-sorrow]

I can finally see you’re as fucked up as me (so how do we win?)

I love dodie and kleinsen and I have many regrets but this has yet to become one of them. give it a hot second tho it’ll happen

trigger warnings: suicide, suicideal idealation, alchohol mention, depression

***

“You’re just a family friend. Speaking of which, could you mention to your mom I’ve been being nice to you? I need my car insurance payed.”

Jared’s already flinching inwardly at how crass he sounds. It’s not even distancing; it’s straight up dickish. But he makes sure to keep his face the same calculated blank expression as always, and Evan nods, an expression Jared can’t quite read on his face.

But really, Jared knows. He knows he’s not fooling Evan when he says they’re only family friends. He doesn’t even believe himself.

***

Jared’s not quite sure when he became an asshole.

Or, no-he’s pretty sure he’s always had the asshole-ness inside of him. More accurately, he’s not sure what made him share it.

(If he’s honest with himself, he knows damn well what. But honesty has never been Jared’s forté, especially with himself.)

Since he doesn’t care much for honesty, he can just continue on being a dick, without much problem.

He’s already invisible to everyone; no one really cares about him, and he knows they can’t stand him. He can’t even stand himself.

But there’s Evan. Evan, with the patience of a goddamn saint. Evan, who puts up with him being an asshole who blows him off and says he only hangs out with him to appease his parents. Evan, who has never once turned Jared away when he needed human contact.

(Evan, with the most beautiful eyes and glowing personality and infuriatingly nice hair, even though his anxiety may mask it.)

And Evan is all he has, which he’s perfectly fine with because he’d be fine with only Evan for the rest of his life, except for the fact that every time he sees him he screws things up and he knows that one day Evan will be done with his shit and finally leave. It’s a day Jared knows has to be coming, since he’s such a fuckup and he’ll have to wake up. Jared can’t even handle himself. And if Evan ever knew just how deep things went—

He could never know.

So Jared pushed Evan away and kept him at arms’ length with the assistance of “family friends” and cruel jokes. He could almost ignore the pang in his chest every time he saw him frown at one of his jokes or stare at the table during lunch. He could almost ignore the way Evan walked on eggshells around him. He could almost ignore the sleepless nights where he wondered how Evan was, what it would feel like to be able to reach out without letting down his carefully curated veneer.

And that was fine. It wasn’t good, or enjoyable. But it was fine. He was fine.

Until he realized there was nothing else for him, besides Evan. All his middle school friends had ditched him long before when he became too “clingy,” both his parents worked full-time, and he didn’t do anything.

He slapped a crooked smile on his face and sharpened his wit so he’d always have a joke ready to deflect with. He forced himself into seats at lunch tables with barely-even-acquaintances. He broke into his parents liquor cabinet and drank himself asleep.

Words became his weapons as he wrapped himself in humor like armor, wielded his cruelty like a sword, wore a fake confidence to cover all of his insecurities. He was never anywhere but he forced himself everywhere. He didn’t think he was funny but he built himself around his jokes. He was never happy but he was never upset, either.

He could almost convince himself it was all true.

Jared became one hell of an actor.

And that’s...fine.

And if Evan finds him having a panic attack in the bathroom one day because the acting was just too much, he never talks about it.

If Evan, with the tiny crease between his brows as they furrowed in concern, with his hands gripping at his shirt, with his eyes nervously darting to Jared’s but knowing exactly what to do, was the only thing that could actually calm him down, he didn’t think much of it.

If he wanted nothing more than to apologize in that moment, if nothing else, or to lean in and kiss him and feel Evan’s arms wrap around him as panic finally left him, to leave the bathroom hand in hand and never let go, he never said it.

And if he knew, in that moment, that he’d fallen in love, he never let on.

If he bit out an insult about how much of a freak Evan was and how he’d never need help from a loser like him, he’d never admit it.

If he could feel his heart tear as Evan’s eyes watered and his hand dropped and he rushed out of the bathroom leaving Jared to resume his uneven breathing, he refused to acknowledge it.

If he sunk to the floor and dropped his head into his hands and finally let himself cry, for the first time in several years, he never mentioned it.

He told himself all of that, anyway. He never was one for honesty. He could almost believe it, too.

(He never quite did.)

And that’s fine. Even though it’s really not fine...it’s fine.

It’s not good, but it’s normal, and Jared will take it.

Change is just too much.

Senior year is just another step in the road. After senior year, he’s off to college and finally away from the suffocating persona he’s crafted for himself.

And Evan has a broken arm.

Which would be normal, except Jared knows damn well that as much as Evan loves trees he’d never climb one.

Unless he was planning something drastic.

He sees something, something deep within the set of Evan’s shoulders and the depths of his pupils. Something he’s felt echoing in his own mind increasingly, broken and distorted.

But Jared’s one to talk.

It’s almost as though he’s willed it into existence, but a few days later Connor Murphy kills himself.

Hey, loving the new haircut, very school-shooter chic.

When he finds out, he takes the day off of school. Something settled in the pit of his stomach, a dark and writhing shame that felt like a question.

His mother tries to find out what’s making him so sick, but eventually he convinces her to let him stay home alone. She’s against it, and she means well, he knows she does, but for once he really wishes his parents could just say no.

Once she’s gone, he crawls his way out of bed and makes his way through the house with slow, heavy steps. He’s never noticed how filled the house is with pictures, mostly of him as a child, all beaming at the camera with that opened-mouth smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt happy enough to smile like that. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling like that again.

He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s fine. And that’s fine.

He’s in front of the liquor cabinet before he knows he is. Unconsciously, he’s pulling out that bottle of vodka he knows has been sitting there for years, taking a swig that’s probably a little heavier than recommended with an upset stomach.

It’s habit. It’s normal. But it feels different, almost.

Jesus, Connor Murphy’s dead days after you call him a school shooter. You might as well be dead too, huh?

You’re the fucking freak.

He takes another swig out of the bottle, feeling it burn on the way down.

No use being alive when you’re already invisable, right? Who’s gonna grieve you? Your parents who never make sure you’re okay? Your classmates who laugh at your jokes but call you clingy? All the people you torment just because it makes you feel like you have some social standing? The boy you’ve been desperately in love with for three years who deserves way better than a dick who won’t even be seen with him in public?

If this is his life, than living isn’t worth shit.

There’s sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet upstairs. Or he could clear out the liquor cabinet and hope that that’s enough.

Either way, another drink wouldn’t hurt.

He thinks of Evan for a moment. There’s nothing for him but Evan, but he doesn’t deserve a minute of Evan’s time. There’ll be no pain for Evan if he’s gone. The only pain will be what Jared is feeling, and once that’s out of the equation...

He’s interrupted by a knock at the door, frantic and sporadic.

Shoving the bottle back into the cabinet, Jared smoothely makes his way to the front door, hoping he looks sick enough to pass.

All he gets is another wave of nausea while Evan stares up at him, hair disheveled and breathing ragged.

“Oh my god,” Evan says, and it’s only then that Jared realizes Evan’s entire body is shaking. He launches himself at Jared, arms wrapping around his neck. He’s shaking so hard Jared is surprised he was still standing out there.

Without thinking, Jared wraps one arm around Evan’s shoulders while attempting to close the door around him.

They stand like that for another moment before Evan attempted to explain himself.

“I’m sorry, I just, god, I know you don’t want to hear from me and I know you hate me but I’m in a really bad place and I can’t believe Connor Murphy is dead and I feel so horrible because he stole my letter—”

Jared pulls back. now that he can feel Evan becoming steadier, and cuts him off. “Wait, wait, sorry, just—”

“I, um, I had to write letters to myself as a therapy assignment and I was printing one on the first day and Connor saw it and freaked out and the whole thing sounded like a suicide note—”

“What?”

“And,” Evan continues his word vomit. “I think—I think that might have been part of why he’s—oh god.” which is punctuated by Evan dropping his head into his hands.

Jared blinks once, trying to process everything. “Wait, but, why...did it sound like a suicide note?”

Evan doesn’t move, but Jared swears he can hear a sniffle.

“Evan,” and this time, his voice is soft but clear, coercing him into looking back up. “Were you going to...”

Evan’s eyes go wide. “No! Not then. I don’t think. Except,” he pauses, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “It wasn’t— it was earlier this year and-I don’t know why I’m here, I’m so sorry, just, bye, I’ll leave—”

“Jesus Christ, Evan,” Jared said, trying to sound just annoyed enough that the affection and worry in his voice would be masked. “What is it?”

“I didn’t fall.” He blurts, and Jared is silenced. “From the tree. This summer. I let go. I...”

Somehow, Jared knows what Evan was going to say. His tone is flat as he fills in where Evan left off. “...felt like you could disappear? Like it would be better if you did?”

Evan nods, not quite meeting Jared’s eyes.

Puzzle pieces start to click in Jared’s brain, even through the fair amount he’d had to drink. “And that’s why you came here. Because you thought that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to stop.” He was suddenly aware of his palms shaking and stomach turning over, vision tunneling so all he could see was Evan. Evan wanted to die, and it was his fault, at least partially.

Jared could’ve burst into tears. He just managed to swallow the lump down.

We’re just family friends.

Evan’s saying something, but Jared can’t remember what. There’s the bottle of vodka, and there’s the sleeping pills upstairs. They’re sorely tempting, but Evan’s standing in front of him. How could he want to die when Evan is standing in front of him, needing him to save him?

He wanted nothing more, but how could he save Evan when his own brain wanted nothing more than release?

How could he save Evan when he’d been part of the reason for his destruction?

Now it’s Jared who can’t meet Evan’s eyes, and he begins to ask “how did you knows this?” His eyes fall on the hastily hidden vodka bottle and the cabinet which had fallen open in Jared’s haste to get to the door.

Jared scrambled to explain. “I-I just, I was a dick to Connor and I was horrible and he’s—no one cares about me anyway but I’ve still been horrible enough to someone that they killed themselves and—now it’s like, you felt...like that, and it’s just—how can I keep going in like this? I’m just,” he broke off for a moment, choking over his words, “all I do is hurt people.”

“No,” Evan breathes, looking more crestfallen than before. He shoots himself forward again, lips crashing against Jared’s, and the world crashes to a halt just for a moment. It’s desperate and hurried and frantic, but Jared feels that he could smile again, even if this moment is his last with Evan. Or last ever.

There’s a million unsaid things in the air, but somehow in the space of a moment he hears all of them. They’re everything he’s needed to hear for the last seventeen years. I need yous and you’re important to mes and it wasn’t yous and I love yous.

Evan pulls away too quickly, murmuring another no as he buries his face in Jared’s chest. “No. You can’t... I wouldn’t...”

“Oh yeah?” Jared says, voice choked with tears. “How do you think I felt when you said it, asshole?”

Evan laughs a little, a wet, discordant thing, but still reaches up to kiss Jared again. And then they’re both crying, not quite sure how to move forward but desperately grasping at each other to make sure the other won’t disappear.

Those unspoken things hang in the air again, but they ignore them for a moment. There’s an adrenaline rush coursing through their veins, terrifying and intoxicating and suffocating at the same time. There’s only one thing that’s abundantly clear: they’d both been ready to see the end that day. It turned out that this was just another beginning.

Neither is fine, but fine is overrated anyway.

[angelsfluffysmut]

The Hard Way: The Lizardfolk (Or, Can You Really Defeat An Angry Lizardfolk By Giving Them A Rough, Intimate Fucking?! You Can If You're A Bard And Have A Natural 20!!)

SKLORTCH

Not exactly a pleasant sound, but then neither is pulling a javelin out of your ankle.

Layna just swears and quickly applies a bandage, already soaked with disinfectant. This temple's not the easiest to explore... With this skewered ankle, her mobility is shot, so she puts away her sword and shield and takes out a silvery compound bow, holding several arrows in the other hand.

This temple... It's smack-dab in the middle of the jungle, but the construction's not quite right. The cool gray stone and phosphorescent blue paint is the same as the ruins in the highlands, only this one's still standing. Hearing a fluttering, she quickly nocks an arrow and twists her body, shooting a bat out of the air, then rapidly takes out three more with two shots. Exploring these ruins could give insight into the nature of these civilizations, so she's not quite gonna back down yet just because her ankle's shot.

She presses on, her enchanted belt buckle sending light in all directions and removing the need for a torch. It's daytime, and there's skylights and windows around, but it still helps a little. She pauses, and casts a shockwave spell, sending pulsating gray mold flying in all directions. She'd almost stepped in that, too...

The trap that shot the javelin wasn't of the same make as the ruins, though. The wood used, the hempen rope, the head of the javelin which looks like a crocodile's fang... Lizardfolk. That doesn't make much sense, though; if these ruins were being inhabited by them, there'd be traps everywhere, and she's only run into two (and easily avoided the lasso trap, at that). Is it just the one saurian?

She doesn't have to wonder for long.

A heavy THUMP has her stop in her tracks, still propping herself up with a hand on the wall. The hallway here ends in a four-way intersection, with a large square room dominated by the skylight above. And turning the corner, presumably lying in ambush, is a huge saurian.

Jesus christ. Lizardfolk are usually below average height, but this one's easily two to three heads--maybe more--higher than Layna, with bulging muscles and sparse armor, holding two large cleaver-esque swords. This opponent is definitely out of Layna's league, but thankfully lizardfolk tend to not be particularly fast, and this one even moreso...

...crap, the ankle. Her mind racing, Layna tries to devise a plan to get out of this. She just can't. Instead, she activates her boots of leaping and JUMPS, crossing from one hallway to the one opposite it--in the process nearly touching the glass of the skylight. As she lands, she winces and nearly stumbles from her ankle, but manages to stay standing as the boots lose their glow for the next three minutes. No leaping for her. She turns around, ready to fire an arrow-

-forgetting that the saurian's larger legs would allow them to move much faster. Already face-to-face with this monster, she hurriedly lets loose a simultaneous shot with four arrows, all of which sort of plink against its scales. As she curses every god, it lifts its arm, preparing for a horizontal slash... And she suddenly gets an idea.

A cliché idea. A bad idea.

A Bard idea.

It swings, but she's gone. Sliding forward between its legs, she quickly stands up (powering through the pain) and grabs the saurian's tail, looping her arms around it. They seize up, tail thrashing wildly, but Layna manages to maintain a grip and, with great effort, throws the big lizard backwards, tossing it onto its back. After taking a moment to realize what just happened, they plant their hands on the ground--and are met with Layna shooting arrows right at said hands, and forcing them to let go. Then, they try a tailswipe, but Layna thought of that too--she stomps on it with her good foot, while activating both her ring of endurance and band of stoneskin--increasing her stamina, pain tolerance and weight. (Also motherfucker, either of them would have been able to nullify the ankle pain. Gah.)

Out of options and weaponless, the saurian just lies there, as Layna struts (as best she can) in front of the downed lizardfolk with a triumphant look. Their eyes lock, and Layna taunts them. "So big and strong, but you can't even beat a bard with a shitty ankle, huh. How the mighty have fallen." They look away, avoiding her gaze in shame... then something very interesting happens.

"Well, that saves me some work."

The saurian's loincloth slowly, then quickly, lifts and falls to the side as two large shafts, an impressive hemipenes, rise from within, the pointed tips already slick with precum. They simply look away, closing their eyes and shifting uncomfortably, still not daring to move their hands all that much. Layna kneels right between their legs, still grinning up at them.

Gripping each shaft with one hand (oh hey, the fingers almost go all the way around this time!), she squeezes a bit but otherwise lets them stew in their arousal. "Be honest, here. This is because you got defeated so easily, right? You love being put in your place." They huff, in tacit admittance and near-palpable arousal. She pumps up and down very slowly and deliberately, making them squirm a bit, and intensify their breathing, and a surprising amount of precum spills from their tips.

She draws back a hand, covered in the clear liquid, and licks it with the sole intention of cleaning it. But then she stops, and grins. She tears off her shirt and bra with speed, nearly banishing them to the Shadow Realm with her enthusiasm, and presses her torso against one shaft. She wraps her breasts around it and squeezes, and moves up and down, extracting a grunt from them. She wraps one arm around, keeping the titty-dick sandwich intact and tight, while freeing up the other hand to grasp the lonely dick to bring it up to her mouth.

She licks, and licks, and licks, and cleans all of the precum, relishing the taste. And then she slips it into her mouth, and sucks, and goes deeper. She takes a break, bobbing up and down for a bit, then goes deeper, and deeper. Then up and down, up and down, going a long distance in each direction, and making them tremble and grunt and clench. She keeps pleasuring both shafts flawlessly--well, well no, not really. The pose doesn't really allow for that, and she's definitely focusing more on the mouth one, so it's sloppy and awkward, but they're enjoying themselves very much, one half rubbing so nicely against her soft body, the other being engulfed three-fourths of the way through over and over.

Then comes what sounds like a fucked-up lizardfolk moan, and so much throbbing, and Layna retreats her mouth all the way back up to the tip and uses her hand and breasts to tip them over. With little warning, cum spills forth, covering her breasts and torso and filling her mouth past capacity. And y'know what? It actually tastes pretty good. She savors and swallows, and catches her breath, and stands up. The saurian starts to shift and turn over to get up, but she moves them back into place with her foot.

"Oh, we're not done yet. Look at yourself. You're still ready." They look down, and find that she's right--they're still hard as hell, maybe even more now. And they look up and Layna's pants are just gone. Panties, too. (The boots stay, though.)

She begins to lower, her heart pounding in excitement, grasping the tips of both shafts in one hand and leading them towards her ass, and supporting herself with the other, leaning on their knee. Then the rings' effects wear off, and the ankle stings, and she nearly falls--but they suddenly grasp that leg below the knee, giving her support and letting her ankle rest. She just grins. "How well-behaved." They just huff, and she continues going down, and down... And takes both of the already thoroughly-lubricated shafts, at first just slowly inserting with a gasp, then much faster and more confidently, biting her lip and stifling a moan as the rubbery appendages stretch her nicely. Mfff... She starts going up, and then down, dropping her weight down to their hips, then up slowly, then down.

She just throws her head back. "Goooddd... You may be a pathetic weakling," their breath catches, still growing in excitement over being defeated and used, "but you make for such a nice fffuck..." She slams down and starts gyrating and moving her hips just right to drive them nuts, grunting and roar-moaning and breathing hard and throbbing in delightful powerlessness, getting some nice pressure on her prostate in the process and feeling the sweat running down her body (exhausted already? I'm losing my touch), and then she starts jumping up and slamming down again. They tremble and quiver and look at her pleadingly, and it fills her with joy and makes her feel so powerful when she realizes they're holding on for her.

"Alright, fine. You've earned it." She slams down. "Fill me." And that one last slam also gets her off (staining them with her own cum), setting her hole to clenching and squeezing and tightening and making them cum more and more, draining, well and truly defeated.

She stands up, still nice and full, and catches her breath. "Ooo-kay. Now don't let me find you again... Or you know what happens." She grabs her stuff and goes back the way she came--there was a waterfall somewhere she can clean up--leaving them to stew in their own exhaustion and lingering arousal, slowly falling asleep.

[maliciouslycreative]

Title: In The Butt

Ship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Gabriel

Rating: M

Words: 2183

Tags: sex toys, crack, sexual innuendos, Sam is so done, it’s all crack, bad dragon, implied bottom dean, implied top cas, sort of canon but not, it’s in the bunker, but gabriel is alive, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Additional comments: ok so like i am probably concussed and like i wanted to write something for the forst day of nanowrimo so i decided on some crack. @rosemoonweaver​ suggested Gabriel shenanigans so I complied. I am literally just writing this and posting this with 0 editing because honestly this is fucking cracky crack and the fact that i just wrote cat instead of fact just verifies that i probably should not be writing and this silliness will only add to the silliness of the fic.

Summary: Gabriel is totally tired of his bro Castiel moping around because he's not getting to put the D in Dean. So he decides to do something about it.

Gabriel didn’t really get it. Sure the human was pretty but well he wasn’t the brightest. He was so sure Castiel had better taste than this. Maybe it was because Castiel had very limited experience with humans that he picked this particular one to fall for. Well ok, the guy had great lips.

And he apparently had great taste in sex toys.

Gabriel whistled at what he’d found in the bottom of Dean Winchester’s duffle. He could work with this.

-x-x-

Dean was fucking exhausted. They’d driven all night just to get home because Dean was tired of shitty motel water pressure. They’d spent just over a week on the road hitting up a series of simple cases. In a way it’d been nice to just come in and wham bam it’s done.

Upon arriving home he’d immediately chucked his bag in his room and then headed for the showers. Now he was in nothing but his dead-guy robe and boxers. He unzipped his duffle to grab his phone charger when something moved in the bag.

“Son of a bitch!” He yelped and umped back from the bag. Grabbing the nearest makeshift weapon (a hardcover version of Return of the King) he tentatively approached his bag.

He gently nudged the bag with the book and a muffled voice said “Hey, be gentle!”

“What the...” He was about to prod his bag again when there was a knock at his door.

“You Dean, you ok in there? I heard yelling.” Sam asked.

“There’s something in my bag!”

There was silence for a few seconds before Sam gently opened the door and peeked his head in. “What do you mean something in your bag…”

“Like a something that shouldn’t be there. A moving something.”

“And you decided the best course of action was to vanquish it with Tolkien?” Sam gestured at the book in Dean’s hands.

Rolling his eyes Dean put the book down on the desk. “It was the first thing I grabbed! Not like I keep a lot of weapons in here.”

It was now Sam’s turn to roll his eyes as he walked over to the wall and pulled down the sword Dean had mounted there. “Really?”

“Whatever.” Dean gingerly approached his bag. “Just be ready to swing. I’m going to dump it on the floor...” Dean took a couple seconds to calm himself then in one  quick motion grabbed up the duffle and dumped its contents out.

“Jesus, I told you to be gentle!” Something said from amidst the stuff on the floor.

“Who the hell said that?” Dean asked and eyed the book on his desk. Maybe it was heavy enough that he could squash something small.

“I did!” There was a few seconds of silence and then the pile of stuff started wiggling. Sam raised the sword, ready to strike, but then something white with the faintest blue tint and pointy started poking out from between two of Dean’s shirts.

“Jesus Christ.” Dean quickly bent down and scooped up the white wiggling thing before Sam could take a swing at it. Unfortunately this also revealed to Sam the entire 12.5 inch glory of David.

Sam’s eyes widened so far it looked like they were going to pop right out of his. “I… I think...”

“What, you never seen a cock this big?” the dildo, or rather David, wiggled a bit in Dean’s hands. “Well looking at you I wouldn’t be surprised if there was something pretty impressive in those pants.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t… you…. I’m going to go do some research!” He practically sprinted out of the room.

“Dude.” Dean held out David and glared at him. “That’s my brother!” Dean was about to say more when he saw something black starting to slither out of the pile of clothes on the floor. Eyes widening slightly Dean reached down and scooped up the entire 15 inches of Ika in his glorious night sky colouring.

“Hssssssth!” Ika said at him and wiggled in an extremely unnatural way. It made Dean’s dick harden almost instantly because god did he want that in his ass.

“Ok.” Dean licked his lips. He walked over to the bed and laid the dildos down on it. Almost immediately Ika started wiggling towards the edge of the bed. Dean grabbed the tentacle and put it back beside David (who thank god seemed content to just lay there). “Stay!”

“Hssssssssssss!” Ika wiggled more violently.

Dean clamped a hand firmly around the middle of Ika and turned his attention to David. “Ok, since Cthulhu wannabe over there doesn’t seem too interested in talking I guess that leaves you.”

“Well, let’s be honest, I’m interested in far more than talking. Just imagine what what it’d be like with me buried in your ass now that I’m-”

“For the love of – just don’t finish that thought. Please.” Dean put a hand over his face.

David did some flops and wiggles until his tip was nestled up against Dean’s hand. “But I love the warm cavern of-”

“Ok. Nope. Not going there. Look we gotta-”

“Hello Dean.” Castiel said from the doorway.

“Cas!” Dean hastily tried to shove Ika behind his back but in his panic his grip loosened and the tentacle sprung free. But this time instead of trying to make a bid for freedom it slipped under the edge of Dean’s dead-guy robe and made a b-line for his ass. “Nope!” Dean sprung off the bed and firmly grabbed Ika. He held the tentacle out in front of himself and glared at it. “Will you behave for one goddamn minute?”

“Hssssth hsssss.” Ika stopped protesting and seemed to relax in Dean’s hand. Sure the tip was still gently caressing along Dean’s wrist but whatever, it was better than it was.

“Sam said that your toys had come alive but I will admit that this was not what I expected.” Castiel said as he bent over so he could more closely examine Ika and Dean nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Cas!” Dean tried to put Ika behind his back again but Cas grabbed onto his wrist and pulled the sex toy closer to his face. Ika stopped caressing Dean’s wrist long enough so that it could flop over and gently caress Cas’ cheek.

Cas stepped back, startled. “I see…. Do you have any idea why they’ve suddenly animated?”

“All that floppy can do here is hiss and all that glowy over there wants to do is talk about my ass.” Dean grumbled.

“Glowy?” Castiel stepped closer to the bed so that he could see David better.”

“He uhh...” Dean’s cheeks turned red. “He glows in the dark. Dark aqua.”

“Fascinating.” Cas reached down and picked up David. He turned the werewolf penis over in his hands a few times as he examined it. “This appears to be a completely typical dildo. Well, perhaps not typical given its size and shape...”

“I feel a but coming on, please let there be a but.” Dean said.

“I like your butt.” David said.

“Not what I was talking about.” Dean sighed.

“Well...” Cas held David up to his face so that he could look at it even closer. David wiggled forward slightly and gently caressed Cas’ face with his tip. This time Cas was prepared and he didn’t flinch away. “It appears to be bespelled. If I had to guess I would say by an angel.”

“An angel made my dildos sentient?” Dean stared at Ika in his hand.

“It would appear so.” Cas said.

“Why? Wait, never mind. I probably don’t want to know. Can you reverse the spellwork?” Dean scrubbed at his face with his hand not full of a writhing tentacle.

“Probably. Though I suspect it would be faster to just figure out what they want.” Cas looked at David very seriously and asked, “What is your purpose?”

“We were given sentience so that we could better pleasure Dean. However we’ll submit in the presence of the one thing Dean truly wants up his ass.” David said.

“And what would that be?” Castiel asked, head tilting to the side.

Dean couldn’t move fast enough. He stumbled slightly in the pile of closes and personal possessions still all over the floor and Ika started wiggling violently. Not that grabbing David would have done much good because the fucker didn’t even have a mouth to cover up.

“Well, your dick of course.” David said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Cas nearly dropped David in surprise as he whipped his head around to lock eyes with Dean.

“I can explain!” Dean said.

The four of them stood in complete silence for almost 30 seconds before David asked, “well? You gonna explain hot lips?”

“I uhhh...” Dean was actually at a loss for words. There was nothing that he could say to save face on this. The giant talking werewolf dick was right, there was nothing he wanted more than Cas’ dick in his ass. Well maybe having Cas around all the time, but he’d start with just the dick.

Cas watched Dean the whole time, head tilted slightly to the left. After the silence had once again stretched into uncomfortable Castiel let out a sigh. He turned and gently placed David on the bed then began taking off his trench coat.

“Cas!” Dean surged forward and grabbed onto the edge of Cas’ coat so that he couldn’t pull it off any further. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you want.” Cas said.

“But, uhh...” Dean licked his lips and stared at a spot in the floor. “You don’t – not if you don’t want to.”

“Dean,” Cas laid his hand gently atop Dean’s. “I very much want to. I’ve wanted to for years.”

“Yah?” Dean glanced back up and locked eyes with Cas. He gave him a shy smile.

“Yes.” Castiel gave him a soft smile in return.

“OK then, yah, let’s do this.” Dean released Cas’ shoulder.

Cas continued quickly removing his trench coat and suit jacket. He paused for a moment and studied Dean, as if he was making sure this was all still OK. Dean gave him a little nod and with that encouragement Cas quickly undid his belt and fly. He then reached into his underwear and pulled out his already hardening dick.

It was long and thick and absolutely perfect. Ika went limp in Dean’s hand. He let out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Seems that it worked.” Cas gestured at Ika.

“Well, you better still fuck me into the mattress just to make sure.”

Cas grinned. “I think that sounds like a wise decision.”

-x-x-x-

When the two of them came into the kitchen in the morning they were met with an extremely exasperated Sam and a smirking Gabriel.

“Morning, boys. I take it you enjoyed my present?”

“You!” Dean tried to lunge towards Gabriel but Cas caught him by the collar of his dead-guy robe.

“Leave him be, Dean.”

“But he made my sex toys come alive! I have to live with the memory of this for the rest of my life!” Dean whipped around and scowled at Cas.

Sam muttered something under his breath and buried his face in his hands.

Cas’ smile was gentle as he stepped closer to Dean “But you can’t argue that it led to the best sex of your life.”

“Too much information!” Sam stood up from his chair and it nearly toppled to the ground. “I’m going into town. Actually, I’m going past the town. I’ll see you in like a week. Please, take a vacation and enjoy whatever...” Sam gestured dramatically at Dean and Cas. He then let out an exasperated sigh and stalked out of the room.

“Sooooo” Gabriel twirled a lolipop in his fingers while he glanced between Dean and Cas. “I suspect you won’t be needing a certain 15 inch-”

“It’s a cold day in hell I’d let you anywhere near my sex toys again.”

“Actually, most of hell-”

“Can it.” Dean scowled at Cas then turned his icy glare on Gabriel. “Get out before I resort to banishing you.”

“Aww, you’re not even going to say thank you, Dean-o?” Gabriel pouted.

“Get,” Dean said, voice going low

“Thank you, Gabriel.” Castiel said.

“Out.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and gave Gabriel his best death glare.

“Fine. Whatever. You can just owe me one.” There was the sound of wings and a whoosh of air and Dean and Castiel were finally blissfully alone in the kitchen.

“You could have thanked him, Dean.” Castiel frowned at Dean.

“Yah, but I didn’t want him getting a fat head.” Dean started moving around the kitchen, grabbing various ingredients from the fridge and putting a pan on the stove. “So, breakfast?”

“Yes, you’ll need to keep your strength up for what I have planned for you.

[ernmark]

So what'd you think of the new episode?

You know, for the last two days I kept thinking about making a reaction post, but then life got in the way. So thank you for asking~

Overall, this feels a lot like a breather episode after The Week Of OH GOD WHY. Juno needs a chance to unpack some of the real nasty heaviness that’s been building up, and we could all use some kittens.

I’ll admit, the trolley was a surprise. I was not expecting the Penumbra to be a transformer, but there ya go.

After all that (admittedly fan-generated) hype about a time skip, listening to an old guy definitely had me freaking out a little. Then we hear Juno’s voice for reals and I’m sighing in relief. It’s just some foreshadowing, probably introducing the real villain of the episode/season. Thank god. 

(Maybe Noir monologues are just a fundamental part of the Martian dialect?)

I’m pleased about the darkness/dawn imagery that goes into that opening monologue, though. We’re basically getting a Greek Chorus with that monologue, and it’s lovely.

We’re gonna spend some time on that one scene in the opening, because yeah.

Juno is a dick, and not just as a gumshoe. This is why I keep trying to emphasize that being depressed is not an excuse for being an asshole, because in this opening sequence, Juno is both, and the way he acts is Not Okay on a human level. He’s being shitty, and he probably knows it.

On a narrative level, I totally get why this turn of events is unfolding. It’s fairly essential to the arc that they’re building, if my guess is correct. 

On a mental illness level, I have totally been there, sans the violent outbursts. Like, a lot of the things Rita’s describing are things I have done. And yeah, sometimes the only way out of it is to pick up (or, if you’re lucky, be handed) a fairly simple task that you actually feel capable of accomplishing, just so you can scrape yourself off the floor. So as far as realistic portrayals go, a smarting gold star for that one.

I’d like to reiterate how very Not Healthy and Not Okay Juno’s reactions are-- but that’s literally the point of the scene.

His bursts of violent rage aren’t new-- hell, we’ve heard about him giving Mick concussions. Mick is still afraid of him. At the moment he seems to be taking it out on inanimate objects (Rita’s monitor? His, if he’s the one who bought it?) but still, there was some very definite alarm in her voice when he decided to smash it.

I gotta say, though, major kudos to Rita for standing up to him when he’s scary, and actually talking him down from his rage. It takes a lot of courage to do that, and she’s got plenty of that. Like holy shit, I can’t begin to explain how difficult that is. The fear doesn’t carry over, though-- as soon as she gets her footing, she’s in control of the situation, and she doesn’t cede control at all after that point. She’s scared for the monitor and for Juno, but she’s not scared for herself. That’s important. 

(Also, I love that her first thought when he lost his eye was “it’s cool, we’ll just dress like pirates!”)

I won’t lie, I appreciate the swords-and-sorcery theme for the episode. 

Also, according to the script “six months have passed since he made all our fans really mad.” Thank you, Kevin Vibert.

Oh, Juno. A shitty decision followed by a spectacular failure. Wow. Yeah, been there.

I like the updates on what’s happening with Mick and Cassie. Also, RITA GOT CASSIE OFF MARS!!!! My heart sings.

RITA: And… and… hey,because of you, Billie Navarro is dead!

JUNO: That’ssupposed to make me feel better?

RITA: She was a realmean lady, Mista Steel. I’m sure it makes… someone feel better?

Time to ring the foreshadowing bell! I expect to hear more about Billie Navarro in the next few episodes.

Admittedly, I have a soft spot for that old trope “Sure, if [absurdly improbable thing] happens, then I’ll do the thing” followed by somebody rushing in and using those exact words apropos of nothing. 

The minute Maia started describing Pippa’s change and behavior, I was like “somebody switched the cat.” 

Also, it’s relevant that Maia is a real estate lawyer. 

Can I take a moment to appreciate truly bizarre cats in podcasts? If this can just start being a staple of the medium, I would be delighted.

“Her meow is pained in some way.” Jesus Christ, after what they did to that poor cat, I would say so! Seriously, the descriptions of what they did to those designer cats was horrific. I don’t know if the episode came with a content warning, but it should have.

A great stage direction: 

WHEN HE’S NOT CRITICALLY DEPRESSED AND ANGRY,JUNO KNOWS THAT THE ONLY WAY TO TAME RITA IS TO USE HER CHAOS TO YOUR ADVANTAGE

One of the things I really love is how Juno’s voice changes over the course of this episode. He sounds so much more like himself by the end.