#Adam running around hell unsupervised

[mightystory]

So after like a gazillion revisions and tweaks and like 450 color pallets that just DID NOT WORK OUT (Believe me we have gone through Shadow the Hedgehog, Lab coats, His purple toga, and like a hundred versions of those), I think I finally landed on a color pallet and design that fits

This is my design for Sinner Adam (No duh) because since Sir Pentious went to heaven I REALLY REALLY want this bastard of a fucker to show up in season two as a VERY ANGRY DEMON The theme and general design philosophy for my Adam is dramatic irony. I've tried retaining a lot of Adam's original angel design, such as trying to make his coat mimic his dress. His face remained mostly the same, his neck piece having the same spiked design, and the coat having the patterns the toga/dress had.

At the same time, I have designed him with Imps in mind. Both from the show but also the Stereotypical/Classic Demons of Christianity, giving him the pointed tail, and claws. (And of course breaking his halo in four pieces, shoving it straight into his forehead and back of his head to mimic horns + Making sure no one misses how he died)

[blue-rose-soul]

While I am coming around to other theories about who besides Lilith could be holding Alastor's leash... Well, if we assume that she is holding his leash, what if Alastor was supposed to make sure Adam survived the battle against the hotel?

There are lots of times where Alastor kind of goes missing from the narrative, which means it's entirely possible he is actively receiving orders from his master, and not just running around in Hell unsupervised. If the angels in the courtroom in Heaven can scry down into Hell and see what's going on, maybe it can be taken a step further and communication between Heaven and Hell is possible as well.

It seems like Lilith struck some kind of deal with Adam, or at the very least Adam was a part of Lilith's deal with Lute or another party. If she needed him alive for whatever reason, and was keeping an eye on the events at the hotel and knew they'd figured out how to kill angels, perhaps she instructed Alastor ensure Adam survived the battle? That might possibly explain why Alastor used angelic weapons against the grunt exorcists but not against Adam.

[ckneal]

Sometimes I need to remind myself that not everyone watched Supernatural with an ongoing gen fic happening in their head, all about the family life of the angels before Chuck’s disappearance and the rise of humanity. And as such, not everyone was constantly compiling stray details thrown out about the angel characters, clustering them together into this rubber band ball of ideas that was just so fun to play with.

I mean, for instance, not everyone took in the way the other angel characters seemed to look down their noses at the cupid characters (who, it’s worth noting, are never once referred to by their individual names, but instead by the human pet name for their category of cherub [which in Lucifer’s case, was certainly framed as an unflattering term], despite Castiel once boasting that he knew everyone in Heaven), and reason to themselves that it was surely because the other angels were jealous. Because obviously, the cupids are given classified information from God himself about what bloodlines he wants to see continued and merged for the sake of his Plan, putting these silly, non-combatant angels on par with the archangels in terms of secret knowledge about what was to come. For the first couple billions of years of existence, while the other classes of angels were sitting around with nothing to do, they all had to watch the cupids happily zipping around the earth, cooing over blue-green algae and gradually coaxing different species into existence with their magic love arrows. And every time a significant milestone was reached, they also had to watch as the insipid little harbingers of love scooped the newborn creature up and raced over to the nearest archangel to excitedly show them their progress, like a little kid with their first art project. And the archangel in question, regardless of which one, would nod encouragingly and smile as the cupid in question babbled about the tiny, tiny lungs this fish had, or the beginnings of feet at the ends of its fins. Even Lucifer, who would also add the additional suggestion to try and give the next one more teeth.

Additionally, not everyone looked at the way that Lucifer was able to just insert himself into Sam’s head from inside the cage, and considered how Azazel needed to visit a specific geographic location to communicate with Lucifer, and even then was only just barely able to do so, and thus came to the conclusion that clearly Michael and Lucifer must have come to an agreement to pool their powers to project Luci’s image into Sam’s head. Which explains why Sam’s special link disappears right after leaving the cage, and also why Michael didn’t interfere when Lucifer was freed, even though season 15 makes it clear that Luci did not sneak quietly out the backdoor. Michael was fully aware who was responsible for the jailbreak, thus leading us to consider that perhaps Lucifer was supposed to turn around and free Michael and Adam in turn, but did not. Thus leading us to imagine Michael spending roughly a year (Earth time) tapping his foot in the cage, until . . .

“He’s not coming back for us, is he?”

And Adam, cracking open a molecule-flavored soda (manifested courtesy of Michael), snickers. “Nope. Told you not to trust him.”

“Right. . .” Michael exhales, looks around for a moment, settles on side-eyeing Adam. Then, with an air of ‘fuck it’ says, “Want to make out?”

And Adam promptly chokes on his soda.

And not everyone heard Metatron specifically say that he personally tattooed the names of every prophet of the Lord ever on the inner eyelids of every angel, and immediately had the thought, “Poor Michael” spring to mind. Because of course Michael was the first one on the proverbial chopping block, trying his best not to flinch as his little brother gradually figured out how to handle the needle. (To this day, Michael is still not sure if the prophet after Chuck Shurley is named Kevin Tran or Rovim Frun). And all the while, Michael was probably also trying his best not to worry about how things were going on Earth while he was busy getting his eyes stabbed.

After all, Lucifer was God’s second eldest son, barely younger than Michael in the grand scheme of things. He could handle watching over their younger siblings for a little while. And Raphael and Gabriel were there to help. Everything would be fine.

However, Michael isn’t aware that about five minutes after being left in charge, Lucifer yelled, “HEY EVERYONE, CHECK THIS OUT!” And then promptly threw his grace into the body of a nearby pterodactyl. Possession being a new ability that Chuck had recently invented, the surrounding angels were mystified as Lucifer piloted the prehistoric reptile through a series of dizzying loop-de-loops that saw the poor creature—not suited to containing angel grace—explode midway through, leaving Lucifer gleefully giggling in the sky.

About half of the angels looking on gaped in horror.

Gabriel whispered to Raphael, “We’re still beta testing that, right?”

The other half of the gathered angels, however, like the impressionable young followers that they are, start grinning, because Lucifer is grinning, and he’s their cool older brother, and as Lucifer—relishing the attention—makes a beeline toward the earth’s one continent, Pangea, and an unsuspecting herd of ornithopods, these younger angels eagerly follow.

Soon, Earth is full of the anguished cries of cupids, watching their hard work blown to bits again and again. Swept up in the crowd, are Castiel and Balthazar. They watch Uriel and Zachariah excitedly throw their armored dinosaur bodies against one another in the moments before both vessels combust, after which Uriel and Zachariah excitedly dart off to take on new ones.

“Are we sure this is. . .okay?”

“Well, Lucifer is in charge. We’re supposed to follow his lead. . .aren’t we?”

Meanwhile, Raphael is frantically trying to stem the carnage. Several dinosaurs are levitating in mid-air, as Raphael tries to simultaneously keep them from exploding while also ordering the angels possessing them to vacate the vessels immediately. But none of them have ever taken a vessel before, and do not know how to get out of them without tearing them apart. Raphael keeps expanding their powers to more and more creatures as their young siblings continue to follow Lucifer’s example.

“GABRIEL, DO SOMETHING!”

“RIGHT!” Gabriel looks around, locates Lucifer running amuck in an apatosaurus that he’s forcing to walk on its hind legs, and fires off a lightning bolt to startle him out.

The lightning bolt misses its target in spectacular fashion, and several trees catch on fire.

Gabriel throws another lightning bolt.

“GABRIEL, THAT IS NOT HELPING!”

“RIGHT!”

Gabriel then grabs a giant meteor from outer space and begins trying to smother the flames by whacking it against the continent, to Raphael’s horror. More cupids begin to cry. Thick clouds of dust fly up, choking out natural light on the planet’s surface—now only illuminated by flames, as well as the magma that rises up out of the cracks that form in Pangea, as Gabe unintentionally creates the first tectonic plates from the sheer force of his assault on the planet.

Trees fall over. Fire continues to spread.

Lucifer is still in the apatosaurus, but he’s fallen onto his side, laughing hysterically.

“WATER, GABRIEL! USE WATER!”

“OH! RIGHT!”

Gabriel throws the meteor into a nearby sea, creating a tsunami.

It is at this point that Raphael abandons the dinosaurs to their sad fate, forgetting their solemn oath to not reveal any secrets regarding evolution and God’s plan, to broadly yell out to any and all of their angelic siblings who are listening, “QUICKLY, SAVE THE MAMMALS!”

And it is at this point, that Michael returns. Samandriel, clutching a dozen or so rodents in his wings, is the first one to spot him. All of Michael’s eyes are red and puffy from abuse. The cupids are sobbing, the Earth is battered, flooded, and scorched. Angels are getting into fist fights with reapers as they dart back and forth, trying to ferry as many warm-blooded creatures as they can find from the site of the catastrophe to the relative safety on the other side of the mountain range Gabriel accidently made when he bashed a crater into the planet—relative, as it turns out some of those new mountains are in fact volcanoes, and it took some trial and error to figure out how far away from an active volcano could be considered “safe.”

Nearby, Castiel and Balthazar are somehow both stuck inside the same mosasaur, beached from the tsunami, and loudly panicking as they struggle to de-possess it before it explodes. There’s a snapping sound, and then suddenly all of the angels still trapped (or willfully frolicking) inside vessels are ejected, at the same time that the fire goes out and the volcanoes cease erupting.

Consequently, everyone goes very still as Michael scans the damage and his bedraggled siblings. With humans not yet existing, the art of facepalming is not yet a thing. But looking at Michael, one might just expect him to invent the practice right then and there.

When Michael gets to Lucifer, he’s greeted with, “What? Pop’s 86-ing the lizard kingdom anyway!”

Michael promptly drags Lucifer off to Heaven.               

The next day, it was made an official rule, written into the very fabric of angelkind: vessels could only be taken after obtaining explicit consent.

Additionally, everyone agreed to never, ever mention the existence of the dinosaurs or how they ended ever again. And, rather than fixing the damage to the Earth’s surface, the tectonic plate situation was just sort of left to do as it would.

Many, many years later, Adam was shocked by Michael’s reaction when the cage door suddenly swung open in Hell. Adam had immediately surged to his feet in excitement, ready to leave and never come back.

Michael, however, remained stationary on the floor, squinting at the doorway, wondering what dystopian nightmare must be waiting on Earth after leaving his siblings unsupervised for a solid decade.

“Michael? You okay?”

“Adam, before we go back to Earth, I think I need to tell you a story. . .”

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Toum Perdit (d.s.) - 7

A/N Guilty or generous 

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

One thing my parents always taught us while we were growing up was, when traveling, to never stay at the cheapest hotel. By no means should we break the bank to stay at a five-star resort but there was usually nothing good that came out of the cheapest option. I could see what they meant as Jonah and I climbed the metal stairs of the Lincoln Motel, the white paint peeling from the handrails and the steps creaking with each footfall. Once having been on the cover of Forbes, I no longer really needed to follow that guidance that my parents engrained in us since I could afford all the five-star hotels and resorts I so desired to stay at.

I mean, to be brutally fair, dear reader, my parents also taught us not to murder our spouses; so who knew how many lessons of theirs I had ignored in my lifetime.

I triple checked that my car was locked as we reached the top of the flight of stairs and headed down the carpeted outdoor hallway. Anyone who uses carpet outside should honestly not be trusted. This place already left a bad feeling in my stomach. Would saying it gave me murder house Psycho vibes be in poor taste? Possibly? Then please disregard that statement.

Number nineteen was right in the middle of the hallway. The brass number nine was set slightly crooked on the door. I caught myself tilting my head with its direction as if I were trying to stall. I swear if the person on the other side of the door slept with my wife I…I didn’t know what I would do but the thought of it made me sick.

“Are you going to knock?” Jonah tore me from my thoughts.

I swallowed thickly, “Yeah.”

I raised my fist to the orange painted door and rapped a quick knock before taking a little step back. I habitually glanced over the railing to make sure no one was getting too close to my car.

The sound of the door creaking open had me turning back quickly to see who was on the other side. I expected a man and that’s who I was met with, simply the first glance of him making my jaw clench protectively.

He was short. Brown hair. Brown eyes. His patterned button up was undone halfway. Arms and neck littered in random tattoos. I eyed him up for a moment.

“Can I help you?” he asked, an obvious confused edge to his voice.

“Yeah, do you know an Avalon Seavey?” I pushed back at him strongly. I couldn’t help but straighten up around him just to have those few inches above him.

“Avalon? Yeah, I know her enough. Why?” he looked between Jonah and me.

I took off my sunglasses and tucked them in the collar of my shirt to see him better in the shadow of the motel balcony.

“I’m her husband.”

“Daniel.” he breathed with realization, his eyebrows raising as he stared at me.

“Yeah. Daniel. Who are you?” I asked sharply.

Jonah didn’t intervene through my anger, in fact, he looked just as concerned as I felt. I appreciated his willingness to let me have my moment to interrogate this guy.

“I’m Jack. How did you find me here?”

“I found your address in her phone.” I added.

“Oh, what a nice non-toxic relationship you have.” Jack mumbled.

“Excuse me?” I took a quick step towards him but Jonah grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

“I was not sleeping with your wife if that’s what you’re here getting all macho protective douche-bag about.” Jack assured me coolly. “We had nothing more than a professional relationship.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at Jack’s unimpressed flat expression. He didn’t seem to be one to be phased by anything.

“Professional over what?” I pressed.

“Does Avalon know you’re here?” he ignored my question while he peeked around me as if to see her down the hallway or in the parking lot below.

I didn’t flinch as he looked around me. Little did he know that she was in fact right there with us.

“She’s dead.” Jonah answered.

I hadn’t realized I hadn’t replied to him for a few too many seconds but Jonah’s blunt response certainly brought be back to reality. I snapped my head towards him. Since when did we agree we were going to be telling people that?

“Oh.” Jack said flatly. “That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah…well…I wanted to see who you were…so…” I stumbled out ungracefully, rubbing the back of my neck anxiously with one hand. I dropped it with a sigh to my side again, “We’ll be going.”

“Hang on. Come in for a second.” Jack offered, stepping to the side and pushed the door open wider to let us on. “I gotta show you something.”

Jonah and I glanced at each other briefly before silently deciding to follow him into the motel room. I peeked over my shoulder to my car down in the lot once more before stepping over the threshold.

Jack seemed to sense my hesitation as he closed the door behind us, “I won’t keep you long. A nice car like that won’t last long around here unsupervised.”

I swallowed thickly, watching him walk across the messy motel room to the closet. Jonah and I stood just inside the door and the first thing I noticed was the bright teal wallpaper that even covered the ceiling, so bright and neon it was nearly blinding and it did not match the dark red floral print carpet at all. The bed had red bedsheets and a dark mahogany headboard that was more 1960s mirror panel than wood and beside it sat a single small round table with a fold out chair and a rotary phone on top. The bathroom sink and light oak vanity was outside of the bathroom in the main room which right away was another turn off to this already run-down place. I was no decorator, dear reader, but the sight of this motel room was nearly nauseating. And that’s said by someone who had a dead body stashed in their car trunk.

As Jack shuffled through the bi-fold closet for whatever he was looking for, I took a moment to take in my surroundings for more than just the initial shock of colour and pattern vomit that filled the place. The neon 80s themed picture above the bed was of the New York skyline which was strange since we were in Los Angeles, and the fact that there were two more mahogany framed mirrors along the other walls was unsettling. I tried not to meet my own reflection.

Jack had a suitcase laid out beside the mahogany dresser and it was tossed open and clothes were haphazardly thrown about it but the suitcase wasn’t the only spot for fabrics as every other available surface – including the small table in the corner – housed various piles of fabric scraps and scissors and pins and needles. The worst of it was the few bare mannequins laying under the window adjacent to the door.

“So…” I started slowly, turning back to Jack whose back was still turned to us, “How did you know my wife?”

“My business.” Jack answered. He pulled a jacket on a hanger from the back of the closet and dropped it on the table right on top of all the scraps and pins and mess. He grabbed one of the many pairs of scissors that were scattered around and snipped a few things that I couldn’t see from where we stood.

His dry answers to our questions had Jonah and I more suspicious as the time went past but we waited to give the guy the benefit of the doubt.

Jack finally turned around with a small smile and picked up the hanger to turn and face the black denim jacket towards us, “I’m a bit of a fashion designer I guess you can say and Avalon found my page on Instagram a few months back and she got in touch with me about making you a custom jacket.”

I didn’t know what to say. In all the words I could use, perfect was the only one that came to my mind as I stared at the jacket in his hand. Someone might see it as a mess of things but it was just my taste; chaos enough to pass as designer even. It housed red x’s painted over the right shoulder and a single white stripe down the left side that matched my surname on the bottom right front panel. He made sure to show each of the denim sleeves, cuffed at the bottom in black and red plaid and the left wrist had ‘honey’ printed in small white font – the nickname I always called her. The other sleeve had matching vertical white font spelling out ‘Only the Beginning’ which was the name of Jonah and my very own record company; the company that always caused the most hostility between Avalon and me. Jack finally turned the jacket around to show the back, the shoulder section sewn over with a lace that looked a hell of a lot like Avalon’s wedding dress and I found myself stunned into shocked silence. It was incredible.

I walked into that motel with no hopes of any sort but what I seemed to find amidst those disgusting teal walls was better than I ever could have expected.

I took a step forward to take the jacket from him, grazing the sleeve ever so gently with my fingers as if it were going to break under my touch. Jack passed it over and helped me slide it on to make sure it fit. He brushed his hands over my shoulders and down my back to smooth it out and directed me to one of the many mirrors that were glued to the motel wall.

“That jacket is fresh.” Jonah said.

“It’s…gorgeous.” I agreed softly, turning slightly to see the back in the mirror.

Jack spoke next as he watched me admire his work, “She worked me into the ground for this one. I kept having to restart because she kept saying it wasn’t perfect enough…I lost a fuck ton of materials and money through that…ended up getting evicted from my place because I wasn’t earning money to pay rent which is why I’m living in this shithole now but…she was adamant. Said it had to be perfect for you. We were going to meet up one last time once you two got back from your trip but…” he faded out with a sigh.

I turned to him, “You were evicted?”

“Oh,” Jack shrugged as if it was no big deal and sat down on the end of the bed, “Yeah. She said she couldn’t pay me right away and I assured her it was no big deal but then when money got tight I felt badly to ask for an advance. She was my only client, ya know? She worked me hard enough anyway to pass as my only customer but…with no pay…landlord ended up kicking me out and this was the cheapest place in the whole county. It’s such an absolute fucking dump here that my daughter isn’t allowed to come visit me until I get back on my feet…court said something about unfit living situations or some bullshit. Not like my ex needs anymore reasons to talk shit.”

“Shit…bro…I’m sorry.” I breathed.

“What can ya do?” Jack shrugged, sucking his teeth with a shake of his head. He stood up from the end of the bed, offering a dry, “She’s dead now anyway so…”

I turned to Jonah who gave me a look as if to just get out of there but I looked back in the mirror at the jacket I wore.

Goddammit.

I spoke to Jack through the mirror, “Do you take PayPal?”

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15

[thegeminisage]

hi, sorry for answering you both so late, i am putting your answers together since they are sort of related!

the short answer is, i can’t write a “real” sequel to broken road but the third part of the triptych would be the indirect dean/cas spiritual sequel, except with way more porn. the long answer is:

i just don't think i could write a true direct sequel to broken road set in that same continuity because i don't have anything left to say about john and how he gets along in the real with his family world now that he’s stuck there and they’re all stuck with each other. my main three points of interest that i felt were left unresolved would be the continuation of dean and cas's relationship (more on this in a sec), sam and eileen (ditto), and figuring out if john and mary ever made it work or called it quits for good. so if i wrote a sequel to broken road it would just be a bunch of john/mary stuff that i feel underqualified for because it WOULD involve their sex life and i DO NOT want to write john having sex. them fucking offscreen in broken road was as close as i'm ever getting and even that was weird. and then somehow i’d also have to work sam and eileen into that and it’s not at all related. it would take two fics and i don’t even want to write one. also, i really kind of want to leave the question of john and mary open anyway - i have my own thoughts about how things ultimately end up but i prefer to let the reader imagine what ending they like best, since people have such strong feelings about it. i know that's a little bit of a cop-out and i'm sorry! but it feels beyond the scope of that fic and also a little beyond my scope and area of interest as a writer.

if it helps you any, i imagine going forward their dynamic is a lot like it is in the epilogue, which is part of why i made the epilogue so long, was to give you a good idea of what life is like for them now. but here’s what i imagine might go down after the final curtain call (this is LONG, skip to the section labeled “dean” for the triptych answer):

john & mary: 

john continues to suffer and bite his tongue and probably do a lot of complaining and DEFINITELY do a lot of avoiding being alone with dean or cas or dean-and-cas. john was expecting to retire after yellow eyes died so he really wouldn't know what to do with a family that still hunts for "no reason" and i imagine he'd be pretty pissed that they still hunt at all. i expect he and sam would butt heads over that

mary would probably keep attempting to be supportive and keep being bad at it, and spend a lot of time trying to put a brave face on it while secretly dying inside, because she's constantly at war with herself. here she has john back, but not the john she remembers, and spending time with him is difficult because she wants to let herself have him and take comfort in him and also she doesn't want to be anywhere near him because he abused their kids

eventually mary or john or both would have to leave, though mary would come back - in canon she's in and out a lot anyway, she stays for awhile and visits regularly for game nights. i think john would miss the first game night, get one "seriously?" text from mary, and then show back up every week that he possibly could but also not visit unless it would make things worse if he didn't. i don't think he particularly enjoys spending time with his family for a long time, if ever, because much like season 12 mary he came back to a family he barely knew or recognized (and because of what he knows now spending time with dean would be particularly awkward). HIS sons would be getting married to women and retiring and having biological children. this gay adoptive whatever the fuck makes them feel like they are not his sons. 

anyway, i imagine john and mary would do much better when running into one another outside of the bunker, on their own separate hunts. they might even take one or two together. there’s probably some very guilty sex in their future at some point because mary is real fucked up. john post broken road does a lot of shutting up but i think around mary he would be the most like his old self. they do this will they/won't they dance for the next decade at least before finally making up their minds one way or the other. i do think they all still go on hunts together sometimes, maybe even with the apocalypse world hunters, and since that's sam's deal john is probably kind of quiet and falls in line and does what's needed without chatting much to anyone. i bet the first few times people don't even realize he's sam's father because he's so quiet. it's his way of trying to apologize to sam and also if he steps out of line when sam is in charge sam would <3 deck him. yes. but yeah i see it being very brisk and professional and awkward, until they all get used to each other again

sam: 

as i said earlier the only thing i didn't fix in broken road was eileen, so at some point sam would figure out a way to get her back - since in this verse jack never becomes soulless and chuck never returns and we never get season 15 it's possible she shows back up because she didn't go with her reaper, or because someone fucked up a summoning spell, or sam realized she was in hell and decided to spring her, or she just crawled out on her own like a badass. i think it would be kind of funny if john was involved with her resurrection but maybe accidentally somehow, so it's not like oh sam learns to forgive his dad because john did this really nice thing for him it's more like UGH why did it have to be YOU why are YOU involved in this important thing that has nothing to do with you slkdjfghl but also if you hadn't done it she'd still be down there or something, so, it cancels out. or idk maybe john had to work hard at it or give something up to make it happen. he has to genuinely shut up and be selfless and not fucking complain and feel sorry for himself the entire time, that might be fun too. either way sam would not thank him

(though i do think sam deserves space to explore the fact that he loves john even still, even despite the fact that he also hates him/is very angry with him and always will be. i don’t imagine sam and john ever fully reconcile but i imagine john behaving BECAUSE OF SAM SPECIFICALLY offers sam more catharsis than he thought possible.) 

anyway, john would be so relieved to see sam with a woman even if she is a deaf hunter but then it turns out she hates him like sam does so like. sucks to be him! meanwhile sam and eileen get to catch up and he finally has a willing ear (so to speak) that isn’t cas or mary to talk to about this stuff and of course SHE has someone who very much understands what it’s like to come back from hell. part of what i really love about sam and eileen is the way they sort of instantly and intrinsically recognized and understood one another, even across something that resembles a language barrier, and this hypothetical future would be no exception. there’s no way they don’t get engaged inside a year, and much like in the 15.18 fixit they’d sometimes hang at the bunker and sometimes not. i imagine with the apocalypse world hunters going in and out though it’s never exactly empty or lonely there. 

whether or not their family unit ever retires and/or moves out of the bunker in this verse is sort of beyond me because my feelings on it change daily but you can imagine whatever you like! however i am adamant that the furthest away from each other sam and dean will ever get permanent-living-situation-wise is next door/across-the-street neighbors. their weird little codependency is part of what i like about them and i have a Whole Thing about not “gentrifying” dean. but for the most part sam would be very much doing his own thing which involves john very little, and healing from his own damage with people OUTSIDE of his blood relatives which he very much deserves. and he has moved so completely past the need to care about john that like john is a backdrop in his life, albeit one with baggage. but mostly he becomes someone to keep an eye on in case he makes trouble, no different than a hundred other surly hunters sam’s known. and he can still be there for dean without his life revolving around dean because now dean has other people there for him too. (i ALSO have a whole thing about sam being in the life for dean specifically, that he’s giving up some or all of adulthood for dean because dean gave up childhood for him - kind of the way someone takes care of their kickass single mom in old age. it’s a guilt/love/debt/devotion sort of thing.) 

and speaking of the Eventual future, if babies ever come into this picture (sam and eileen’s, to be clear, dean and cas are probably satisfied with jack, NOT THAT JACK ISN’T ALSO SAM’S CHILD) john is allowed to see them but never unsupervised. i’m picturing like sam and eileen both on their third day of no sleep and sam lets john change a diaper because he’s exhausted and john considers that the best their relationship has been since sam was 6. mary always wanted to raise babies and sam likes her better so she’d get to pitch in with much more enthusiasm (and aw they’d finally get to bond a little more), and dean has raised a baby already so he’d probably try to like help and get waved away a lot like no no raising other peoples babies is no longer your job it’s ok. there is eventually a fight about this

cas & jack: 

castiel lives a great life caring for his newly re-graced son and staring at john when he enters or leaves rooms, and i imagine eventually jack gives him his wings back, since he can do whatever the fuck he wants (i'm not giving jack his own section but he also probably keeps acknowledging dean and cas are a couple like out loud which would be fine except for dean is still half in the closet like a skittish traumatized cat so eventually cas would have to explain very gently that nobody was supposed to know that yet and jack should cool it to give dean time to adjust)

anyway i DON’T believe in human cas, i believe he likes being an angel, so he just gets to stay an angel forever and now he has wings too <3 and he can teleport which spooks john in the exact same manner it used to spook dean in s4 <3 except this time cas is being <3 malicious on purpose <3

cas fully won here because like john does NOT want to speak to or acknowledge him much less be in the same room as him so they tend to have a dynamic where like all 6 of them are in the room and cas dean sam mary and jack all talk to each other and john dean sam mary and jack all talk to each other but cas and john do not talk to each other. cas doesn’t have to threaten him or glare at him constantly anymore like all he has to do is look at him. and john is like. man what’s he gonna do. that guy is having sex with your son and there’s nothing you can do about it! so dean doesnt have to be like ok cool it cas anymore because cas has literally won in every possible way. i think at most it’s very much cas being like “if i were trying to kill you, you’d know it <3″ and john can’t return those vibes to sender because then dean would be like ok cool it at his DAD instead. it used to be cas don’t piss off dad and now it’s dad don’t piss off cas. anyway i think that since cas has let dean lean on him so much it would be nice if he could lean on dean a little. again more on that in a minute

dean: 

and finally, as for dean...i think he needs a year minimum to dean with people acknowledging he and cas are a couple and another 3 for it not to be weird to say cas’s name in front of his dad. absolutely zero pda in front of john ever but he might like eventually get to the place where he and cas can lounge around together on the couch while they watch movies with the rest of fam and it’s not a big deal. sneak an arm around him at a movie theater. kind of the same vibes as the 15.18 fixit but with less anxiety. because like the worst possible thing (getting outed to everyone) has already happened and aside from the outing itself being completely horrible nothing that terrible even came to pass as a result, so he’s just Adjusting. i think he sort of has to unlearn and relearn his habits - his mediator thing, his defending dad thing. i think there’s a lot of times where he just walks out of a room when shit is too much for him to deal with because he has let go of some of the need to constantly micromanage his family’s interactions to make sure they don’t boil over. michael already took that scenario to the max and mary already dumped john so there’s really not much left to be afraid of. i think he gets told “that’s not your job” a lot and maybe listens more than he used to. and to bring us around to the second question...

i also think dean would get weirdly hung up on the fact that he and cas’s sex life is Not Normal - as in, they fooled around a little and that was it. i think dean would have a huge problem with that. like, obviously he has A Few Hangups About Gay Sex given his history but if you’re a couple you’re supposed to bang on the regular and it’s totally homophobic if he doesn’t bang cas as much as he’d bang a lady he was committed to, right? he’s not gonna give cas less than he gave cassie or lisa, that’s not fair to his best buddy and number one pal! 

meanwhile castiel, known asexual, is utterly and wildly neutral to the whole idea except that it’s a way to be close to dean. cas would be just as happy fucking like champions for a six-hour marathon or spending that same six hours curled up in bed together while he plays with dean’s hair. like, same diff. you know that thing about like “cas thinks everything is important he gives the same gravitas to the apocalypse and a nine year old’s birthday party”? like it’s exactly like that with sex and cuddling and sharing a meal together and driving together and watching dumb movies like it’s all time spent With Dean so it all matters just as much.

so we have this conflict where dean is tearing himself apart over the fact that he’s taking a normal human amount of time to “work up” to the whole thing and cas is like. but it’s fine. it’s literally fine. and dean’s reaction to this would be something very offended like hello excuse me i am super hot and fuckable and you don’t WANT me?

if this all sounds familiar that’s because i’ve written similar stuff to it before! if you go to the fic page for broken road, you'll see it's part of a series now (the "triptych"), with my dumb little 15.18 fixit as the prequel. even though continuity-wise these are two totally separate fics i feel very strongly that that fic is the spiritual prequel to broken road, and eventually, a long time from now, after the next @cambionverse​ fic is done or at the very least well underway, i'd like to write a spiritual sequel. a triptych is three works that stand on their own but also make a more complete whole, so even though these three stories would not be related at all in continuity of where they take place in canon, they each set the stage at a different part of the dean/cas relationship. so fic #1, the get-together, had no sex at all, and it was very short. fic #2, pre-established but just barely, had a little sex in it and it was very long. fic #3 then would be pre-established but like VERY pre-established and have a fuckton of sex in it, and be medium length. i’m ha ha basically writing my own nc-17 porn coda since SOMEBODY won’t do it for me (if you got that joke you’re entitled to financial compensation). 

except i actually really do want to tackle this subject myself, it’s stuff i only got to touch on in the other fics because it felt off topic, so in this fic it WOULD be the topic! i really found a groove i like with cas who has almost no trauma around sex but doesn’t care whether or not he has it vs dean who really really wants to have sex but has a minefield of past bad experiences he has to watch out for. and i like writing porn anyway and i didn’t get to write very much these past two fics. i’ve always said that i think dean would snowball (not like that, gross) - it’d take him FOREVER (literally a decade plus) to work up to kissing cas but a fraction of that time to start fooling around with him and a fraction of THAT time to blow him etc etc. the more he does the easier it gets. i feel like it’d be a lot of fun to write. 

so, this third fic would not be an official broken road sequel, because there’s almost no plot outside of the porn to speak of anyway, but if what you wanted was to see how the dean/cas went from where it left off, hopefully that will be satisfying in that regard.

i should say, while the third fic would be almost exclusively porn there is one plot element involving ********** that i am not going to talk about on tumblr because it would ruin the surprise. i have told a few people privately and i will tell you if we know each other pretty well but if you know (or guess) don’t tell anyone! 

see, the other thing i would want to tackle in that fic is how cas has his own traumas and baggage, even if they’re a little different from dean’s, and i think dean sometimes gets so deep in his own stuff he kind of...not forgets that exactly but forgets how profoundly it still affects cas, because by and large cas deals with that sort of thing a lot more quietly and in much healthier ways than dean does. not that his self-sacrificing ass is the poster child for mental health, but for example cas recognized suicidal ideation in himself and actively worked to keep himself away from situations that would make it worse. he translates his bad feelings into meaningful action (well, he attempts to, even if it usually goes wrong). so he hurts kind of quietly and in late season especially most of the worst moments of his life are behind him (barring jack’s death, which doesn’t happen in this verse). so he’s also further along in his healing process which mean dean kind of forgets how fucked in the head he can be. and in the uh...unusual situation...they find themselves in because of this minor plot, it becomes something that he can’t not notice, that they can’t just not talk about, and cas gets to lean on dean a little, they sort of get to know each other better. so that’s part of the point of that one little plot element. but the rest of it really is porn.

i haven’t started work on the third fic yet - i don’t have a title and my outline is just a bunch of choppy ideas and i have about 2000 words of the middle of the fic jotted down out of context. (it was originally going to be a shorter unrelated thing before i realized how well it tied to what i already had.) i have another obligation to see to before i can get started on it (again, @cambionverse​, you should read it if you havent, the concept might sound unappealing but almost everyone who tries it likes it and it’s way better than broken road). so it’ll probably happen a very VERY long time from now! but it IS happening. >:) i just hope after the first two fics in the triptych were so well received that it doesn’t disappoint 🥺

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

anon: Not sure what the ship name is, but Julian x Miles x Keiko seems like it would be so cute?

You are correct! And I am slow, sorry, sometimes my brain suddenly cannot focus on the thing I want it to focus on, but I eventually do!

what is this ship name?

Julimikei? Keimilian? Milkeilian? Julkomil? (I write these with the knowledge that “jul” in Danish is Christmas)

1. Who’s in your ship and is it monogamous, poly, open, etc?

So I'm someone who runs with canon, meaning Keiko and Miles are married. However I'm not a fan of the idea that marriage is inherently monogamous in future, or even that “marriage” is the same thing (marriage is just the easiest version to describe it to a 20th/early 21st century audience). Meaning I get to decide at some point Miles and Julian approach Keiko and are like, “heeeey, me and Julian have been talking and we were thinking that we might want to make what we've got official” and Keiko laughs and is like “took you long enough!”

So at first it's just Miles who's married to Keiko and Miles who's also married to Julian, but then Keiko and Julian spend more time together and get talking about the roles of plants in medicine (and then Keiko one day admits that she wishes she could have someone around more interested in her work, a la Miles' “I wish Keiko was a guy” admittance) and long story short, Keiko and Julian also get married.

Julian has other partners, Keiko has other partners, Miles is just devoted to this little family (and doesn't understand how they have the time).

I don't think Miles or Keiko have sex with Julian. I also increasingly read him as sex-indifferent in general.

2. Is the ship romantic in nature?

I mean kinda? Gosh I really shoot myself in the foot as someone who's politically aromantic and just kind of hates the connotations of the word “romantic” (beyond the ideas of “having a romantic nature”- then hell yeah I'm a romantic) - it's exclusive in the sense that they marked it using the particular ritual of what we'll call “marriage.” Using modern terminology, I'd say with Julian it's queerplatonic, with the O'Briens it's romantic.

3. How often do/can they see each other (due to living on different planets, having stressful jobs, etc)

Julian travels all around, while Keiko sometimes has to do stretches of travel off-earth. Miles is the one who stays put the most. The kids generally live with him or Keiko, but whenever Julian's sort of stably in one place (or at least on one ship) for awhile they come to him, especially when they're a bit older and want to see the galaxy in a... reasonably? Safe way?

Julian promises he won't take Molly into the middle of a plague again, it was one time okay?

4. What are their things to do together?

Holodeck dates still happen. Darts still happen. Also Julian asks Keiko to teach him a bit about gardening, because he wants to impress Garak and he finds it's surprisingly fun. Keiko generally has the single braincell, but sometimes that task falls to Miles. It's never Julian.

Miles still remembers coming home from a long day of teaching to find their house had become overgrown with creepers that have covered all entrances and need to be destroyed with a very potent weed-killer very carefully lest any of Keiko’s rarer plants are damaged, due to a failed experiment (it wasn't failed, huffs Keiko. If anything it was overly efficient, adds Julian in a chipper voice. Miles vows out loud that those two are never allowed to do science unsupervised again. It definitely happens again.)

5. How do they say “I love you” without directly saying “I love you”?

I miss you. Come back soon. Remember the time... I brought you this. I thought of you while...

It's the little, simple words and sentences. The three of them together can simply be defined as “comfortable.”

6. Who unironically likes old earth movies and who suffers along?

I want all of them to be old-earth-movie fanatics. They've done all of the special recreations, holosuite drive-throughs, the Cronenberg marathon, Kurosawa, Azimov, Dirty Dancing play-alongs where you're one of the characters, a bunch of 21st century scifis that these days are considered quaint...

7. Are any of them spiritual and any of them decidedly not?

I don't think any of them really are. Keiko's not a believer, but she's got traditions that she maintains. Miles celebrates St. Patrick's Day and whenever Julian's visit coincide, the two of them recreate any battle of the Irish versus the English.

8. Who’s more open about their affection and who’s more taciturn, but shows affection through unconventional means?

Miles O'Brien is never going to be the best at expressing himself emotionally, but he's certainly better than he once was. It took him awhile to even be able to kiss Julian in public, but he got there, especially after Keiko showed no such qualms. Julian is jubilant whenever he sees them, Keiko showers him with flowers.

Miles is self-conscious about his inability to be as good at things like presents and gestures, but the others know that he loves them and don't need him to be otherwise than he is.

9. Who likes space and who prefers a good ol’ planet?

Julian Must Go Into Space or he gets antsy. Miles Must Stay In One Place or he gets anxious (that place could be space, but right now it's earth). Keiko is fluid. She goes where the plants take her.

10. Finally, what are their favourite things about one another?

Keiko loves them when they're together because Julian lifts Miles' spirits better than anyone else (it used to make her anxious that she wasn't “good enough,” but she realises now that it's more to do with the two of them having been through some bad things and having that vocabulary).

Individually she loves Miles for his dedication and hidden passion that only comes out when he feels safe, usually with her or Julian or in the classroom, and the way he's so intelligent, even if he talks it down occasionally.

Julian is almost the opposite. He needs to know he's smart and he keeps his heart way out on his sleeve. He offers affection without being asked for it and blossoms when that affection is returned.

Julian falls in love a lot. He finds people to be pretty great. The O'Briens are special because they were the first time it really worked out for him and it didn't happen in any sweeping dramatic way like he'd imagined (that would be saved for Garak a few years down the line), it just... fell into place. For once he didn't feel like the lost puzzle piece and since being with them he never has.

Miles is shared interests, understanding one another intimately, not fearing being vulnerable with one another.

Keiko is challenge and being allowed to be expressive without feeling stupid, and the two of them talking rapid-speech about their interests

Miles thinks Keiko is way smarter, kinder, all around better than he is – that's not an insecurity, he's just amazed that this person wanted to be with him and thinks he's great in return. She challenges him and loves a challenge, which pushes him to always be his best self.

Julian is... well he's Julian who somehow crowbarred himself into his life. Adamant and ridiculous and intensely caring and smart. Insecure underneath it all, which maybe was what made him fall in love before he realised it – Julian Bashir wasn't arrogant because he thought he was above people. He was arrogant because he thought he needed to be and because he didn't know he had other things to offer. He's not like that so much any more though, and Miles finds he tries to make it his mission to make him laugh.

Together, what Miles loves the best is how comfortable in his own skin he feels around those two. He can't explain it, they just make him feel safe.

[therealactualvictorfrankenstein]

Victor, do you know if Adam has a way for me to reach him? I'd love to meet your creation, and it'd be stellar if he had an account.

NO!! HE DOESN’T! And that’s for the better, who knows what he’ll say. Imagine “therealactual(adamfrankenstein/frankensteinsmonster)” running around unsupervised?? That would make my life more of a living hell than it already is! Dr. Jekyll you really don’t want to meet him.

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

requests are open omg :0 if you don't mind, can you do a second part for the kuroo angst please? i live for angst sometimes lol + your writings are so good!!

Ahhhhhhh sooooooo this one took forever to think of because I left it in such an emotional state…. I don’t think I ever originally had an idea for a second part to the angst because…. I didn’t know there would be demand for one????? But if you guys like my angst that much, that’s fine by me!!!! I love being mean to our beloved volleygays! Thanks for asking!!!! - Admin Satori

Part 1/ Part 2

Kuroo Tetsurou:

Two whole months. Two months, 3 phones, 3 jobs, and 2 new addresses. That’s what it took to get away from your cheating ex boyfriend. Most people would think you were overreacting to how many things you had to change because of a single breakup… But then they didn’t know how stubborn and stupid your ex was. It’d only taken a day from you running away that he’d shown up at Kenma’s house demanding to talk to you. It almost took Kenma getting into a fight with his former senior to get him off his property. But at the threat of a cut friendship and the police being called for his removal, Kuroo had promptly backed off. You’d been kept safe at Kenma’s house. Your phone had blown up non stop since the incident, since you’d walked in on him getting blown by some dolled up bimbo… who, for the record, looked NOTHING like you.

You’d had to change your phone 2 times more than should have been necessary because somehow Kuroo kept getting your number. You figured he’d gotten it from someone you still talked to, and just went from there to get all your other information like where you lived or worked. He was adamant about apologizing and trying to get you to take him back.

And stupid you….

You WANTED him back.

How stupid to want someone back when they’ve hurt you, and cut you so deep that you’ve lost sight of who you are. Who you were before the relationship.

Who were you? Before Kuroo? You couldn’t remember. It’s almost as if you’d only started existing when he’d asked you to be his. His girlfriend; such a juvenile title somehow had meant the world to you and still did. Why? It didn’t mean anything in the end. He still cheated on you. He still got drunk and messed around with a stranger while you were crying into his best friends shirt.

At first, you’d felt sorrow, depression, a deep pain in your heart that made you curl up in blankets and not come out for days. Eating whatever Kenma placed at the foot of your bed, letting him take care of you to his best abilities. He’d only ever taken care of cats, and they cleaned themselves, so most days you went without cleaning up. If you remembered correctly, you’d only ever cleaned up with you had to do laundry… which was every 2 weeks, and that was only because you had to get up to wash your sheets and blankets. You’d think while I’m up and go about taking a shower, washing your hair and brushing your teeth.

Those were dark times… and the times that had followed had been even darker.

After the sorrow had come fury. You’d been pissed. You remember, vaguely, slashing Kuroo’s tires; only three of them so that bastard had to pay the insurance to replace them. You wanted to kick his ass for wasting your time. Your moments of crying over him had been nothing but the acts of a stupid blind girl who didn’t know her own worth. Who the HELL cries over a stupid boy????? Had been your thoughts throughout your anger. You’d changed yourself completely, wanting to take your ex by surprise the next time you bumped into him, he wouldn’t be able to see the ass whooping coming if you didn’t look like yourself.

But it only took the cutting of your hair for your anger to pass.

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair cut to your earlobes, the long tresses in the sink below. Your eyes were tinged red with both heartache and fury.

“This isn’t me….” You whispered to yourself, reaching up and letting your fingers stroke the trail of dried tears on your right cheek. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you felt a new wave of guilt wash over you. “You’re acting like a baby…. Get over it… Get clean, get dressed, and go.” Your voice was a little heated, deciding you needed the rough treatment to wake up from this bullshit feels trip your ex was putting you through. “Just. Fucking. Go.”

So you did.

You fucking went. You got in your car and you took off. You didn’t know where you were going, you’d basically zoned out while you were driving, almost causing 2 accidents on the way wherever it was that you were going. But you didn’t stop. You just kept driving. Kept going.

Next think you knew… You were sitting in the parking lot of your old high school, just staring at the empty building. It was summer time, all the students were gone. The only people on the school grounds were janitors and school teams practicing for their next big match the coming year. You just sat in your car, feeling like you weren’t even a person anymore. What were you? How had you become so lost? How had you been blinded by something as fleeting as love? Love disguised as a bedheaded boy who said he would take care of you until the end of your days? You almost felt… hollow. Empty. And you figured your depression wasn’t completely done with it’s cycle. But you didn’t want to sit still. You had to keep moving. Pushing forward.

You got out of your car and walked Into the school, not surprised the doors were open since the chance of a burglar was very low in such a safe country. Slowly, you approached the one room where it had all started. This whole bullshit of a mess. All this heartbreak and sadness had originated as something so innocent. As innocent as a quick glance, the meeting of eyes, and the embarrassed avoidance of eye contact.

Sliding the door open, you stood absolutely still, staring at the rows of empty desks, remembering the loud calls from familiar students to their friends. You’d known all your classmates, had personally met each and every one of them, but there’d been one that had stuck out to you the most. Your feet felt like they were filled with lead as you made your way to your old desk, pulling the chair off of its surface before sitting down and staring at the blackboard ahead of you; remembering even the very sound of the chalk making it’s routes over the porous material as the teacher wrote the days lessons.

It’d been a normal day. Sunny. Cloudless. Bright and early. There had been one desk left available and you found it odd since all classes had to be filled or at least have the required materials for those attending before the class could start for the semester. An empty desk was unneeded and an eyesore. The doors had slid open, and a low voice had asked for forgiveness for their tardiness. Of course, such an interruption had called the attention of everyone, and so you had looked up like everyone else at the body occupying the doorway.

Only, while everyone else had looked away at the sight of who it was, knowing the reasons for his tardiness, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

Just like now.

He stood in that very same doorway, and you could’t bring yourself to look away from him. His golden eyes almost glowing in the soft light of the setting sun. You stared right back, remembering how his eyes had glanced at you, feeling your stare on his face just like now. Only, back then, he’d looked away with a slight pink tint to his cheeks, not sure why you were staring so intently at him. Had it been his hair? You had thought it was just a bad hair day for him. Everyone had one. But it’d settle once the day began, either on it’s now own or by his messing with it.

But it was stubborn. The messy do stayed, and you remember the longing to touch it. To make it stick in it’s natural place. Your eyes had followed him as he’d made his way to his desk, just a little over from yours.

You turned your attention back to the front of the classroom as you heard the sound of the chair being set on the floor, the body it belonged to sitting in it before the desk itself creaked from the weight of his body leaning forward on it. The sounds of the class had settled, but now they were deafeningly quiet. No one was here now. You continued to stare ahead of you, “Why did you come?” You asked quietly into the not so empty anymore classroom.

“… I don’t know….” He whispered back, sitting up and staring down at his hands on the desk top. He honestly didn’t know. No clue. He’d just suddenly had the need to go to his old school. He’d seen your car in the parking lot and had figured you’d come here. “______… I-“

“I know…. Kuroo….” It stung your heart to say his full first name. That’s not who he was. He was your Tetsu. Your babe. Your sweetie. Anything but Kuroo. The sounding of his surname made you feel… formal. Made you feel like you didn’t know him anymore. You could see him wince from the corner of your eye, and you took a little pride in the reaction. It wasn’t nearly what he’d put you through just a couple months before, but it was a start. It was a little taste. “I know…. You’re sorry… You were drunk and unsupervised. She saw that and decided to get what she could from you while you got the comfort you were seeking from her.” You nodded to yourself before glancing over at him, making direct eye contact. His cheeks darkened just the slightest and he looked away from your eyes; Shame was all he’d been feeling for the past 2 months. Shame, self hatred, guilt. They’d all melded together into a single, awful, heavy feeling that pulled his heart into his stomach and made him constantly feel like giving up on every aspect of life.

“ …. I shouldn’t have to be supervised… I’m an adult.” He whispered, not arguing with you, just acknowledging the point you were setting down. “I’m an asshole… I hurt you…. I betrayed your trust and I let you down… There’s no amount of sorry that I could convey to you that would even come close to how awful, how ugly I feel inside.” Kuroo’s voice was quiet, “I…. I want you back, ____… But I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m not even asking for it….” He looked over at you now, and you didn’t know what to say. “I want you to be happy, ___… I want you to be happy, and thrive, and not be held back by someone as stupid and lazy as me…” He sniffled, and you realized he was crying. His chest was shuddering from suppressed sobs, and his right hand reached up quickly to wipe away the tears slipping past his portrayed tough exterior. “I want you to be happy… And I hurt you… I took your trust and your love, and I fucking ruined it…. I’m such a fucking dickweed.”

You turned your attention back to the front of the classroom, feeling your heart longing to reach out and pull him close. Wanting to tell him that everything would be okay. That the two of you would work past this and be happy again. Happy with each other. Together.

But, instead, what you said was, “Dickweed wasn’t exactly the word I was thinking of, but sure. That’s a good substitution.” Then the room fell relatively silent once more. Save for the sound of him trying to hold in his emotions. You’d gotten over your tears long ago, had let your heart slowly encrust itself in its own sense of death before crumbling away slowly. It’d only taken you two months, two months of trying to get over him and get him away from your broken heart, and now? He was just a few desks from you, crying out his own guilt and shame to you, showing you his own broken heart. And you wanted to badly to help him put the pieces back together just as he’d do for you. Two broken people sat mere feet from one another. Yet, one didn’t know where to begin and the other…. 

Well….

The other didn’t feel a thing at all.