#that’s actually why john left adam there

[zer0point5ive]

gay people never flirt normally it’s always gotta be shit like this

[coryosbaby]

Your Face .

Fandom: “Saw (2004)”

Pairing: Adam Faulkner Stanheight x fem! Reader

Synopsis: you’ll never leave him again.

Cw: angst, mentions of past murder, injuries, money struggles, mentions of past sex work, night terrors, codependency, attachment issues // nsfw . hand jobs, nipple play, cum eating, praise, mommy kink, oral (f recieving)

🪚

Couple’s therapy really isn’t easy when the both of you were victims of a fucking serial killer.

If you can even call it couples therapy— talking about how you feel towards each other and trying to fix your relationship is some sort of therapy, you guess.

Maybe it’s not healthy to stay with the person you were held in captivity with. But even before that, you were attached at the hip. Even if you were both on and off before the incident, you were still both incredibly infatuated with one another. You would never be able to escape that face: Adam’s beautiful, almost angelic face. It’s been that way since the end of high school graduation, and it’ll be that way until the end of your life.

You know why Jigsaw had chosen you. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Your money situation had been terrible before he had taken you, and in his mind, you were a whore, a dancer, a prostitute. But never in your mind could you ever contemplate why he chose Adam: your sweet boy, your best friend, your sweetheart. Adam.

You still dream about the last day you were there, sometimes. When you had carried out the plan Adam had come up with: just shoot me. Shoot me in the shoulder so he thinks I’m dead. And then get us both out. And when you had, trying every desperate attempt to find the key to the chains, you had reached your hand down into the sink drain. It was a wonder you had somehow escaped those chains without having to cut your own foot off. Adam’s cries sounded a lot in your ears, now. In your own haste to go and get help you had left him there with John Kramer. Even when he had begged you not to. Even when he almost died.

It was a wonder you both got out alive. It was a wonder you had managed to come back, fight the man off, and get him out of there.

And ever since, it’s like Adam has only ever though about that. The moment you left him in that room. The fear he felt, the impending doom.

Maybe you both need an actual therapist .

Some nights, nights like these, Adam has problems sleeping. When he does, it’s like he’s placed back in there in that room with you— being tortured, shot, and humiliated. And on some nights like these, he wakes you up for your affection and assistance. Eyes shooting open, an extreme amount of fear goes through the poor boy’s tired body. He’s there.

He’s quick to shake you awake. Your eyes open with confusion, and then once the situation settles in you understand it’s one of those nights. Lifting yourself up, you frown when you see the tears beginning to well in Adam’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

He sniffles, trying to cover his face now that he’s being half brought back into reality.

“I just woke up. I don’t—“ his hands grab at his hair, pulling, as he cries. “— I don’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, sweetheart..”

You push his hands out of his hair and replace them with yours instead. You soothe his scalp with your fingernails, and kiss him. You used to have night terrors for this same reason, so you understand how this must feel for him. He moves down so he can lay on your thighs. He feels sad and embarrassed and scared. You stroke the outline of his face with gentle fingers: beautiful, strong nose, sharp jawline, gorgeous eyes, plump lips. Any woman’s dream.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You murmur to him. He quickly shakes his head. He lets out a pained little moan, almost like a scared little rabbit. You lean down, and kiss him on his nose.

“I know, honey. I know it’s hard. But you aren’t there anymore, okay? You’re right here. I’m right here.”

He nods, but you know he’s just trying to stop you from seeing how deeply the night terrors affect him. He’s always been such a strong boy.

Your forehead pressed against his cheek, you whisper to him.

“Do you want something to drink? Some water, some tea? I can make you some..”

“Y-Yeah. Maybe some water, momma, if that’s okay.”

That sweet little nickname you adore so much from him. You smile.

“Okay.” You lift him off of you, rounding the bed to make your way out of the bedroom. “I’m gonna go into the kitchen—“

“Please don’t leave me!”

It’s immediate, the way you freeze up and stop at the end of the bed. You almost start to cry yourself.

Adam is embarrassed at his outburst, and he sobs, all of his emotions flooding out. He crawls over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. He rests his head against your thighs. You know now that the glass of water will have to wait a bit when he utters that familiar set of words. The same tone, same amount of fear lacing his cracking voice. It brings it all back to you, just as Adam’s dreams bring it back to him.

You let him cry out for a few more minutes, stopping to grab some tissues from the bedside table and clean him up when he’s calmed. Your fingers settle into his hair; soft and wavy under your fingertips, you shush him with a gentle hum.

“I’ll never leave you, Adam,” you whisper, soft. “Never. I swear.”

And you know that it’s true. Your fingertips move down to his jaw, lifting his face up so he can look at you. He’s coming back down from his nightmare, and real life is starting to seep in. He isn’t in that bathroom anymore. He’s in his apartment— our apartment, including you, in his brain. Not the one he got taken from. Not the bathroom. This is new, this is safe— and jigsaw is dead.

You sit down next to him on the queen sized mattress you had bought together. He buries his face in your neck, breathes in the familiar scent of vanilla, laundry detergent, and sweet strawberry perfume. Unadulterated bliss.

“Promise?” He sniffles, sticking his hands in between the valley of your breasts and traveling down to your tummy. He rests it there, soft.

“I promise.”

And when he’s calmed, when you’ve wiped all his tears away, you go and get him a glass of water. Only this time, his arms are wrapped around you from behind tightly the entire way to the kitchen.

Safe.

He drinks about two glasses. When you guide him back to your shared room you sit him down on the bed.

“I don’t think I can go back to sleep,” he murmurs, embarrassed. You make sure that he doesn’t become ashamed of nights like these.

“It’s okay,” you reply. You smile as you kiss his forehead “Im off tomorrow. We can just stay up and go to sleep when you feel like it.”

Adam is now thankful that you’ve moved on from your life of sex work and into retail, because that means that he doesn’t have to worry about you as much. So it puts him in a good mood to remember that, and also to remember that he’s gonna have you for the rest of the day. He leans forward, plants a kiss to your lips. He smells like cigarettes.

You kiss him again. Harsher, a bit. Tongue slipping inside the warm canal of his mouth. Perfection.

You don’t want to urge him to do anything sexual with you right now unless he doesn’t want to. So you pull away, thumb brushing over the scar on his shoulder. It’s a spot you’ve come accustomed to— one that he’s sensitive about, but not with you. Never with you.

He leans in again and his kiss is heavy. He’s desperate, now, not only craving your body but also craving a distraction.

“Wait,” you breathe against his lips. “Are you sure, baby? Sure you wanna do this right now?”

“I want it..” he whines. His hand grabs yours and places it over his bulge. “Please? It hurts..”

You can’t resist him when he gets like this, and you know it helps him forget the things that plague his thoughts. So your palm grinds down into that spot that he laid your hands on. He breathes out a small breathy sound, one that makes him grind up into your hand. His body is slowly making its way down onto the bed. Laying down, he can see the lace slip adorning your body starting to fall down, down, down. Your cleavage is pretty, he thinks. Nice and soft enough to stick his cock in between.

He’s wearing one of his white shirts, and you lift it up to his shoulders to expose his bare torso. He’s gained a bit of weight since that wretched room, a little bit of his tummy beginning to fatten up. You find it absolutely adorable. Kissing there, you make your way up to his chest and pepper small bites on his chest. Marking him there is your favorite activity.

Your tongue laves over one of his areolas, kissing and scraping your teeth on it. He mewls, a small little “‘s good.” leaving his pretty lips. He’s always had sensitive nipples, and you love to play around with them.

He lifts himself up so he can slide the rest of his shirt off. Pretty muscled biceps replace the white fabric of the sleeves, and on one of them the gunshot scar sits. He’s still so perfect.

“My perfect boy,” you coo. “God, look at you. You’re gorgeous.”

He blushes, a thank you making its way from him. You move away from him, farther up to the head of the bed, and lean against the bed frame. He knows instantly that you want him up against your chest. You reach towards the bedside table and reach into the drawer where you keep your special things. When you pull out a vibrator, Adam crawls towards you with morbid curiosity.

You’ve used toys on him before, but for some reason, not this one. He leans back against your chest and adjusts so you can take his cock out of his pajama pants. It slaps against his lower belly, wet and dripping. He’s always had such a pretty cock, all thick and hard and red. He’s got a lot of girth, enough to make it hard to close your fist around him.

The vibrator has a lot of power to it; you know this because you’ve used it on yourself many times. You hold Adam’s cock with one hand, and with another you switch it on. He gulps as he watches the toy in your hand.

“Okay?” You ask. He nods, pretty lashes fluttering shut as you watch his confirmation. His head tilts back and his mouth falls open in ecstasy when you press the vibrator to his aching tip.

“Oh, god.” He moans.

You move it down to his base, rubbing teasing circles into the soft skin there. Adam wraps his hands around your arms, desperate to have something to grab onto.

“So pretty like this,” you praise him. You move one of your hands up to his hair so you can rest it there. You kiss his neck gently. “My sweet Adam. Your cock is so hard, isn’t it? So hard for mommy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chants, whimpering. “It’s ‘s good.. love you so much.”

Your heart flutters, breathing in against his neck. He smells so nice that it almost makes your head tingle.

“I love you too, sweet boy.” You say. You move the vibrator down to his balls, and a moan rips through his throat. He sounds so heavenly that you can’t resist reaching down in between your thighs and rubbing your clit. When you pull away your slick coats your fingers, and you rub them up against the boy’s lips. He accepts them greedily, keening at the taste of you on his tongue. Crooking the digits, you make sure to keep them flush against Adam’s teeth; he loves having them in his mouth.

“Never gonna leave you again, honey. Gonna stay with you forever and ever, gonna make this fat cock cum… ”

And god, if that doesn’t make Adam’s balls draw up tight then he doesn’t know what will. Precious noises spew from his lips as his orgasm approaches him.

“Yes! Please, mommy, pleasepleaseplease, gonna cum—“

And although he didn’t last long this time, it doesn’t matter to you. Once his cock is dripping white, you set the vibrator aside. Your fingers scoop up some of his creamy spend, and with a lolling tongue you lick it all up. He tastes amazing, just perfect. Your perfect boy.

Sighing, he leans against you for a moment. He turns around, gives you a sweet little sultry smile, and returns to you the same perfect amount of pleasure. He does this by shoving his magnificent tongue in between your thighs. And skilled, the boy is— he loves to please. He thinks your pussy is the best he’s ever tasted or smelled in his entire life, and while he rubs his soft wet muscle against your clit his eyes roll back and small moans leave him. When you cum he makes sure you have two more orgasms— one from his fingers, another from his cock that had somehow gotten hard for you again.

And in the scene where his cock is inside you, you’re on top of him while he lets out little grunts and moans. You bounce up and down on him until your slick is white and wet, dripping down his thighs and onto the sheets. He had lit a cigarette somewhere between three fingers inside you and now, and his lips are wrapped around it while he watches you ride him. Holding it between two of his fingers, he exhales smoke at the same time that your teeth scrape along his nipple and your nails dig into his shoulders. He gasps— angelic. Then he tilts his head back, and cums.

That face is another one you’ll never forget— his pretty eyes shutting, mouth agape and cheeks ablaze. You don’t think you could ever leave this pretty thing ever again.

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

[arealtrashact]

Mind if I ask if there was anything that led you to cast the characters as the specific animals you did for the Saw zodiac piece?? Like I KNOW you had to work with the animals within the Chinese zodiac, but...why the goat for Kramer, the monkey for Amanda, and so forth??? Was it based on birthdays or character traits, or something like that??

I really like that piece and I want to give u a platform to talk about it more lmao

Like you said, my choices were limited to the animals within the zodiac. It was a fun little challenge mixing and matching each animal to a character that I felt suited them (personality-wise in some cases, appearance-wise in others.) More under the cut, for those interested.

Amanda (Monkey) - Jumps between mischievously playful and sadistically cruel. In possession of ten clever little fingers, perfect for rigging traps…

John (Goat) - Stubborn + stoutly adheres to his beliefs. Sporting a pair of curving horns that play into the spiral motif very nicely. Enjoys playing God and doling out punishment, much like a certain other horn-ed fellow who spends his days disciplining ‘sinners’. 

Jill (Sow) - Seemed like an easy choice considering the Tuck family’s pig farm. I also wanted to call back to Gideon and what could have been.

Hoffman (Tiger) - Large, imposing and solitary. (Almost) always one step ahead. Tigers having illusory eyes on the backs of their ears to throw off stalking predators feels extremely Hoffman to me. Getting the jump on him is nearly impossible. Nearly. 

Strahm (Dog) - Not just any dog, a GSD. Sharp as a whip, wary as a watchman. Commonly used by law enforcement. Loyal to those he considers friends, aloof and standoffish to just about everybody else...

Cecilia (Dragon) - Much like a dragon, Cecilia would be right at home curled atop a mountain of treasure. Even what she promises / advertises seems mythical - the kind of miracle that only exists within a fantasy...

Logan (Ox) - ‘It’s cause you’re always in that damn BARN.’ A farm animal through and through. He's John’s heir apparent, a faint outline of him, complete with a similarly horned silhouette.

Lawrence (Rabbit) - Larry was one of the ‘lucky’ ones, and what's more lucky than a rabbit's foot? ( Do you think he carries his severed foot around on his keys in this AU ? )

Adam (Rat) - I mean…

Schenk (Snake) - People will probably assume that I picked a snake because he’s ‘deceitful’ (I actually think his rage was justified. ACAB.) but I actually just wanted to incorporate spirals onto him in an organic way. Snakes, with their intricate scale patterns, allowed me to do just that.

Who’s left? Zep Hindle screams 'chicken' to me and Lynn has beautiful flowing hair that lends itself perfectly to a horsey.

🤙

[joekeeryswife]

I need some dad!Pedro Pascal with a baby girl (he’s such a girl dad 💖💖💖)

Baby sister - p.p

hello angel! thank you for your request. i kind of changed this up a little bit so i hope that’s okay. requests are open! kinda hate this but oh well 🤪has a few mistakes but other than that, enjoy reading angels 🤍 ⚠️age gap couple⚠️

taglist (feel free to add yourselves 🤍): @1-john-4-19 @mavs101 @brilliantopposite187 @mimi-luvzyu @iloveshawn @jaydiann @one-sweet-gubler @nani-kenobi @shiftingmack @newtandminhoaretoocute (if there’s a line through your @ i can’t tag you for some reason xx)

"you okay honey?" Pedro asked as he opened the car door for you, his right hand extended out so he could help you out. he had the car seat in his left with your second newborn daughter sat snugly with a small pink hat on top of her head and a blanket which was knitted by your grandma over her small body.

your mum was over at your home looking after Junie, your five year old daughter who was adamant on meeting her baby sister. she had begged you both for a sibling as soon as she heard her friend Isabel had gotten a baby brother and now she had finally got her baby sister.

you gently placed your left hand in Pedro's, carefully standing up out of the car with a small wince. you had gotten 9 stitches after giving birth and getting up hurt, a lot. after taking a breath you nodded "i'm okay" you said, sending him a small smile of reassurance.

you turned to close the door, doing a quick check to see if you'd left anything on the backseats. after making sure the car was empty you closed the car door and started making your way up the short driveway to your front door. your mum had told you Junie was excitingly anticipating your arrival. she'd waited a very long nine months and felt as if she'd waited forever to meet her sister.

Pedro opened the front door and moved out of the way so you could go in first. you heard loud screaming coming from the living room and then fast footsteps approaching the front door. "mama. i missed you" Junie squealed as she saw you, Pedro and baby Penny. "hi angel. i missed you so much more" you smiled as she wrapped her arms around your leg. "why don't we go to the living room? then you can hold your baby sister" you heard Pedro suggest and Junie nod against your leg.

you felt her grab ahold of your hand as you walked to the living room. your mum was standing in front of the sofa with a look of adoration and love as you entered the room. she walked to you with open arms and pulled you into her. "are you okay?" she whispered placing a small kiss on the side of your head. you nodded and hugged her tighter.

you were glad your mum was here, she was your best friend and you needed her here. she let go of you and helped you sit down on the sofa, making sure you were comfortable before giving Pedro a quick hug as a congratulations. Pedro placed the car seat on the coffee table and pushed the handle backwards so Junie could get a better view of her sister.

Junie knelt down in front of the car seat, her eyes darting across Penny’s face. “aww mama she’s so cute” she reached her hand to softly stroke Penny’s face. you smiled and watched as Penny sighed in her sleep, her lips pouted. “you wanna hold her?” Pedro ran his hand through Junie’s hair.

she nodded and practically jumped on the sofa next to you. Junie cuddled into your side with her eyes growing wide as Pedro moved the small blanket off of Penny and unclipped her from the car seat. “okay so put your arms like this” you demonstrated and she copied “that’s it” you kissed her head and watched her as Pedro placed Penny in her arms.

Penny wriggled for a few seconds before settling down in her big sisters arms. the sight of the two of them almost brought you to tears. “she’s so tiny” Junie whispered, looking up at you careful not to jolt her sister. “you were that small once, actually you were a little bit smaller than her when you were born” you replied, heart swearing with love.

“did you use the name i liked?” Junie said, her eyes diverting to where your mum and Pedro were. she had suggested the name Penny after watching ‘Bolt’ and had gone on non stop about the name. Pedro nodded “we did. did you see her blanket?” your grandma had embroidered Penny’s name on the blanket in black yarn which stood out against the baby pink fabric.

Junie shook her head and turned her attention back to Penny who had opened her eyes to look up at her. “mama look, she’s awake” her voice was filled with excitement which made everyone in the room smile wider then they already were. Pedro made his way over to sit next to Junie and looked down at Penny who was now looking around the room.

“she looks exactly like you when you were a baby” he placed a delicate kiss on Junie’s head and wrapped his arm around the back of the sofa. Penny sneezed loudly making Junie jump before a small giggle escaped her. “bless you” she lent down to kiss her sisters cheek and you felt like your heart exploded then and there. they had just met and they were already the cutest pair.

you heard your mum walk off somewhere making your head turn to the door but she quickly re-emerged with a polaroid camera which she took absolutely everywhere with her. “let’s get a picture of the four of you” she smiled, turning on the camera watching you and Pedro move closer to Junie and Penny. your arm went behind Junie’s back, making sure she was comfortable, before looking up at your mum.

Pedro let his hand rest on your shoulder with his attention also going to your mum who was holding the camera ready to take the photo. “Junie baby look up at nanny” your mum said making Junie’s attention shift off of Penny. “smile” your mum said before the camera flashed and the sound of the camera printing filled the room. “can we please do one more? but just of them three” Pedro asked as your mum handed you the polaroid.

you and your mum looked confused before she nodded and smiled before lifting the camera up once again saying another ‘smile’ before the flash went off once again. once printed she handed the polaroid to Pedro who said a quick ‘thank you’ before he walked out of the living room. “can i have a hold?” your mum asked Junie who sighed dramatically before giggling loudly and nodding. you smiled at your mum as she carefully took Penny out of Junie’s arms and said a small ‘oh my goodness you’re adorable”.

you followed Pedro out of the living room once you knew your mum was comfortable with Penny and found him in the kitchen with a sharpie writing on the polaroid. “what are you doing?” you asked leaning against the door frame. Pedro jumped, almost smudging the writing at the bottom of the picture. “jesus you scared me” he sighed closing the cap of the pen and picked up the photo before fishing out his wallet which was in his back pocket. he smiled at your curious face and wrapped his arms around you, placing a quick kiss on your cheek. “i had to get a picture of my girls, you all looked so beautiful and i didn’t want to forget the moment”

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART TWENTY-TWO)

notes: surprise! i’m highly aware of how incredibly late this is, believe me! but better late than never!! pretty short, but i’m just getting back into this! hopefully the next part will be longer!

previous: twenty-one

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, miles.wood44, and 203,261 others

y/ndevils00 well, my favorite boys lost again, 6-1 to the thunder storms.

i hope the hurricanes sleep with their gear on, because i’m out for blood after the way they targeted my main hoe, Nicolas tonight!

anyways, look at my 2 pretty best friends! they disappointed me tonight, but they’re still pretty okay, i guess.

our only goal of the night came from woody the woodpecker in the 3rd period with a nice wrist shot!

and in case you missed it, my second biggest fear did indeed come true this round: jacky lost a tooth. may that pearly white rest in peace. it may be gone, but it will never be forgotten!

it’s okay though because he looks pretty darn adorable and i love him regardless of if he has teeth (please never lose any more of your teeth, i’m begging you to wear a mouth guard) 🫶

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, dawson1417, john.marino97, miles.wood44

john.marino97 if that’s your second biggest fear, then what’s your first?

y/ndevils00 adam fantilli

lhughes_06 HA! @/adamfantilli

adamfantilli @/y/ndevils00 i’m not scary?!

y/ndevils00 @/adamfantilli AHHHH

jackhughes what the hell is that first pic?!

y/ndevils00 graphic design is my passion 🫶

jackhughes why do you do these things?!

y/ndevils00 because i just love you so much and i want you to know i appreciate you!

jackhughes the tooth is getting fixed as soon as i have the time

y/ndevils00 oh thank god. i love you, but if i wanted to date toothless the dragon, i would’ve gone after Miles

jackhughes i don’t even know what to say to that

dawson1417 i’m so sorry you have to go through this best friend, we’ll try and win on sunday, just for you!

y/ndevils00 thank you best friend! i wasn’t gonna say anything, but since you said it… i don’t deserve this. do better!

dawson1417 oh no. no no no no no. i got a “do better”. those are for john!

john.marino97 HEY!

miles.wood44 at least i got us ONE goal

y/ndevils00 which shocked me ngl

miles.wood44 okay, that hurt

y/ndevils00 good. suffer. think about what you guys have done

miles.wood44 yes ma’am

nicohischier i appreciate the sentiments but you know they’re all taller than you and hockey players, right?

y/ndevils00 so you’re saying you have no faith in me. got it.

nicohischier actually no, i’ve seen you wrestle Trevor. i believe in you.

lhughes_06 next game! i believe it!

y/ndevils00 that’s right! because i may or may not have threatened Lindy to play you next game or i’ll put spiders in his bed and steal all his left shoes

lhughes_06 you scare me sometimes, squishy

y/ndevils00 aww i shouldn’t scare YOU, you have no reason to fear me yet!

lhughes_06 oh- cause that’s reassuring…

[trashquisitor-shirozora]

*enables you* what happened with TLJ 👃

After all these years I still can't properly find words to explain how deeply betrayed I felt after the credits rolled and I shuffled out of the movie theater with everybody else. There was a TON of hype surrounding this movie, an absolute fuckton. I only saw positive reviews about it, the cast, the director, the plot. I got excited to see where Rian Johnson & Co. would take the ST.

The only remotely negative comment I saw before watching the movie was a fandom blog saying they didn't like what happened to Poe. Since this blog was about racism in fandom, I knew something was off. That was my only warning.

And y'know, it was like, five minutes in? Ten minutes? And Poe makes a "Yo mama" joke at Hux? I used to go into movies with an open mind and spent days gathering my thoughts about them because I was always slow to react, slow to gather my thoughts into coherent strings of words. It's how I enjoyed Michael Bay productions and JJ Abrams' love affair with lens flare. I never got actively angry with a movie I was watching, and I was fucking angry by the time the movie ended. I still remember texting a friend while standing out in front of the theater because I was so confused. The response to TLJ was so positive so why did I come out of the movie so frustrated and confused and dissatisfied with the whole thing?

It's been years and we all know how this movie divided the Star Wars fandom and just... broke Fandom Spaces in a way I never expected. We all know what TLJ did and didn't do, and how TROS provided the final nail in the coffin that was the ST experiment. But back then, all I saw was positive commentary about the themes and messages of TLJ, how it portrayed failure and the dangers of putting someone like Luke Skywalker on a pedestal, how the Force was female, how... important it was to see Poe get characterized as a hotheaded hotshot who needed to be demoted, slapped around, and stunned in order to learn some kind of lesson, how important it was to see Finn lose everything he gained in TFA so that he could relearn how not to be selfish or something while starring in a fucking incredibly tone-deaf B plot, how Rey... I'm not sure exactly what because she didn't need training anyway and then spent most of her time trying to bring Ben Swolo back to the light????? Rose was so promising as someone who grew up under the FO's thumb but she and Kelly were fucking abandoned by Disney so I don't know if Rose existing was actually a good idea if it meant giving Kelly unending trauma. Mark slipped up by calling Luke "Jake" and expressing his displeasure in front of cameras, and I was so fucking baffled and alienated by his character after knowing how his story ended in ROTJ that I couldn't connect with whatever lessons I and he are supposed to be learning. JJ set up Snoke like a mystery box and Rian just yeeted him off without so much as a fucking explanation so what was the point of that? Hux was a fucking joke. Phasma was barely there. The only character that Rian cared about was fucking Kylo Ren and Adam says years later that he was never supposed to get a redemption arc anyway.

Like, this was the movie everyone hyped up? This was the movie that didn't answer any questions left unasked by TFA and didn't bother to move forward with character development for any of the known characters? I spent money watching a slow space chase that ended on a planet made of salt and killed off Luke for Reasons? Am I stupid? Am I dumb? Am I a peasant incapable of understanding the masterpiece Rian directed, this so-called Best Star Wars Movie Since ESB?

But I couldn't say anything. I couldn't be dogpiled for hating such a empowering movie for women, a diverse and inclusive movie that had the likes of John and Kelly and Oscar. I couldn't be lumped in with the Star Wars dudebros with their raging misogynistic and racist takes on the movie, the cast, Kathleen Kennedy and Lucasfilm, Disney, etc. I couldn't be seen as one of them just because I didn't like a movie that I should like, I'm supposed to like. So I sat in silence, read meta, witnessed the fucking catastrophic explosion around some wild ass AO3 fandom essays written by a racist OG member of OTW about Finn/Poe, saw hate piled on black and bipoc fans, saw r*ylo fans come for John and John clap back at them, just saw an absolute fuckton of hate, and so by the time TROS came around I just... checked out. There was no way JJ could salvage what Rian had done and I was right. TROS was a corporate-run soulless garbage end to the Sequel Trilogy, but it ended just as The Mandalorian finished its first season and regained a lot of good will with this small story about a lonely Mandalorian bounty hunter who encountered a Force-sensitive Baby Yoda.

And then TBOBF/Season 3 of the Mando Show happened, just like how TLJ happened. All the promise, all the unanswered questions of the previous movie/season, all fucking dropped or provided with the worst, most unsatisfying answer. I'm sure others have found better answers and can live with what Star Wars gave us, but I haven't been able to. TLJ came out years and years ago, and I am still so bitter today. I'm still so bitter because TFA had such an incredibly compelling setup with such promising characters, and then TLJ Did That.

I got so heated while writing this. I'm still so mad. I'm still so bitter. I bury my head so deep in the sandbox I built for myself so that I don't have to think how Disney is twisting and contorting all these Mando'verse shows so that they all eventually lead to the ST, their precious hot potato child that just... didn't have to end the way they did if they actually had a fucking plan and fucking stuck the landing. I'll give the MCU this - their Phase 1? They fucking stuck the landing. I fell off the train tracks and haven't really watched the MCU since Captain Marvel, but at least they had a fucking plan and didn't fucking derail themselves like Disney did with the Sequel Trilogy.

I could be nice to people who like this movie but I'm not going to be. They can be nice on their own blogs.

Man, I can't even watch Knives Out or Glass Onion because my blood starts boiling. Just. TLJ did a lot to ruin what I hoped would be a positive and creative connection with Star Wars, and it took the Mando Show and the 2 minutes where Din and Luke locked eyes on the Imperial light cruiser to bring me back.

I'm gonna stop before I get way too heated for sleep.

[vintagevict0ria]

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Chapter 2 "Ive been watching you for ages..."

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader content: alcohol consumption, use of Y/n. a/n: oh gosh guys im so sorry this took SOOO LONG!! I have not had any motivation but i was determined to get this out! part 3 will not take as long!! Added a tag for all my works: #victoriassecrets!!

Endless scrolling turned into you following asleep. When you woke up, you found a pool of spit under your chin and your phone was dead. Rolling your eyes, you sat up stretching your arms before plugging your phone in and wiping your face. Today you had planned to get breakfast with Carolina today, to debrief from the past few days. It had caught you by surprise how much your co-star had been on your mind- an unhealthy amount you should say…

Hopefully this date would help clear your mind and focus on the actual movie and not Adam Driver. 

You arrived at the coffee shop shortly before Carolina did so you found a table by the window. When she arrived: she lit up instantly when her eyes met yours. “Hey girl!!!!” She let out a squeal of excitement as she frolicked over. Standing up, you embraced her in your arms. “Oh em gosh we have so much to talk about!!” Of course, Carolina couldn't wait to start talking. Sitting back down, you took a sip of hot coffee before speaking “So i want to discuss how JJ is planning on building and establishing me and- Sorry- Taylor and Johns (you and Adams characters) relationship”

“He wants you and Adam to get to know each other from the other side of the camera so that way we have something to build off of before we start filming.”  This caught you by surprise.In the past, no directors had asked you to have an actual connection that isn't just acting.

“We have 7 weeks till filming starts and I've already scheduled you and Adam a reservation at the restaurant down the road for tonight- lets get ahead yeah?” Dinner. Tonight. With Adam. It was hard to imagine what this could possibly mean. “So it's a date basically?”

“Oh gosh no silly!” She laughed, shaking her head. “Just think about it as a…” she paused. “Yeah it's basically a date.”

Oh Carolina, why would you do this to me!!

“No the red! No wait- the blue! wait - yes the red! Wait..” Holding up the two dresses and making Carolina pick was impossible. She was your hype woman and you looked good and anything but gosh this woman could not pick to save her life. “Girl, just pick! I'm going with the red-” before you could finish Adams manager walked in-”The cab will be here in an hour” she left quickly after dropping the news. Lovely, now I'm being rushed. 

“Ok pick a dress and i’ll get someone her to fix your hair and makeup-”

“No- I got this. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Carolina smiled, looking up from her phone and going over to hug you. “First impressions are everything” she whispered in your ear. All you could do was laugh.

Dress? Red(or blue?) No yeah red…

Hair? Down! No up!! Wait… Down!!

Makeup? Uhhhhhh…

“Ms. Y/L/N! The cab is here!!”

Crap! You quickly grabbed your purse and ran downstairs while still trying to put shoes on. After who knows how long, you finally got your shoes on and was greeted by Adam. 

“Evening.” He said, holding out his arm.

“Good evening.” You joyfully intertwined your arm around his elbow, letting him guide you into the cab. 

The flash of the cameras was bleeding. Being an actor in Hollywood meant stalkers, love letters, cat calls, and of course- paparazzis. Security did their best to quickly get you too into the car with little to no time for the cameras to catch a glance of you and your co-star. As soon as you entered the car- a woman- around the age of 20, started pounding at the window of the car. “Adam! You are so hot! Have my ba-” the car sped off before the woman had a chance to finish. You glazed over at Adam but he didn't seem fazed at all. Was he used to this? The ride was quiet. All that could be heard was the rolling on the car on the roads of LA and the faint playing of the radio. Before you could be relieved of the stress of this event, you stupidly went on instagram and your DM’s were full of pictures that the paparazzis had taken just minutes ago. The pictures were not as clear as expected considering you basically ran to the car. You could just faintly make out the scene of Adams' arm around yours. 

Once you arrived at the restaurant, the door swung open and a doorman held out his hand to you. You hesitantly grabbed it. Making sure your dress didn't get caught in the car door- you exited the vehicle and was once again escored beside Adam and security. Little to no paparazzis were around but somehow, many civilians knew you two were expected. Some profanities and obscure things were shouted but you too paid no attention to them. The restaurant lights were wildly contrasted with the dark outside. Adjusting to the lighting, you walked over to a table that was draped with a white cloth along with two wine glasses, silver wear, and a candle. Adam pulled out the seat, gesturing to you to sit down. Embarrassed, you smiled and whispered ‘thank you’ under your breath. Adam sat down across from you.

“So-” Adam began to speak, his brown eyes looked so whimsical in the lighting. Before speaking again, he cleared his voice. “Where are the menus?” He chuckled, looking around the restaurant. At Least he was trying to make this not awkward as possible.

“I was just thinking that! Have you ever been here before?” You scanned the room, it was quite empty- well entirely empty.

“No, you?” You shook your head. Right as you were going to say something, your waiter walked over, pen and paper in hand. “Apologies for the wait- what can I start you off to drink?” You both ordered a glass of red wine to start and shortly after receiving menus- ordered entries. Taking a sip of your drink, Adam asked “Thoughts on the film so far? Well, the script that is.” He brushed his hair back, still making eye contact with you. You couldn't believe you were having dinner with Adam Driver. He was so beautiful and there was something about him that wouldn't allow you to look away.

“I like it! Also- apologies for Carlonia setting this whole ‘date’ thing up- she can be really extra sometimes' ' putting date in quotes excentauted how awkward this dinner was. You hoped he would just laugh it off but- oh no.

“Carolina?” he laughed, shaking his head while looking down, “No, this wasn't JJs or Carolinas idea. It was mine.”

_________________________

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[fallencrow3]

Why Aziraphale and Crowley are definitely normal Angel and demon

Azzy

Delivered fire to the humans allowing them to survive and evolve (Prometheus)

Got the fire sword which is actually canon in the Bible, gifted to an Angel (in this case azzy) to protect the tree of life (though is a tad different from the Bible in many ways buuuut we ain’t gonn get into that)

Watched over the east gate (East gate is gate of mercy, the main most important gate of Eden)

Watched over the first humans

Oh on a side note

In the Bible the East does not mean the compass East. East In the Bible means front, eternal, forward. This also follows withe how when Cain left god’s side he went to “the land of nod, on the east of eden.”

And when looking from the front of eden, (from the east gate), you would overlook the lesser world (earth). Oh and nod means homeless basically

The east of Eden is the border between the physical realm and the spiritual realm (heaven and earth, or in this case the garden of Eden and the rest of earth)

The east border is the border azzy looked over, he was the protector of the tree of life (not to be mistaken as the tree of knowledge of good and evil aka APPLES). As well as the entrance to the garden of Eden. He was actually supposed to be the Angel to ward off Adam and Eve. At least In the Bible it says that to protect the tree of life from man and to make sure mankind does not enter the garden, god placed an Angel withe a flaming sword at the entrance of the east gate (the gate from which Adam and Eve were discarded from the garden)

He overlooked the lesser world (earth) which at that time was nothing but vastness. So ya

The east is where earth is, it is the "unholy" lands

This could show that he was destined to connect two realms maybe

Oh and the east gate is the only one mentioned in the Bible specifically

Oh and just casually saying that the flaming sword is canon in the Bible the most powerful weapon ever (and was broken into three pieces after lucifers rebuking but I don’t think that corresponds withe good omens) (I also think it’s hilarious that azzy was technically supposed to use the flaming sword against Adam and Eve but instead gave it to them it’s just so azzy)

OH AND GUESS WHAT in the Bible it's canon that humans will merge around 6,000 years after the fall

Which is basically the apocalypse

You know what else happened 6,000 years after the world began in good omens? THE ANTICHRIST aka THE APOCALYPSE (or almost)

Anyways so there’s all that BUT ANYWAYS back to azzy

He was chosen to watch over the first peeps

He was also chosen to watch over the antichrist

He was there at the beginning

So he’s one of the oldest angels one of the first ones

He is the only Angel other then the archangels that god talks to directly

The name Aziraphale when broken down is seraph (which means the burning one) and el (which means of god, of power)

(Seraph also means serpent so do what you want to do withe that information)

So he is not only the one to handle the flaming sword, but in itself actually IS the flaming sword

In the Bible the quote “So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way”

And he gave the sword to humanity, He gave himself to humanity. He has been withe humanity and protecting them since the beginning.

Ok now

Crow

So there’s the obvious thing of him being the famous serpent of temptation (deFiEnTlY just a small feat not as if it literally started everything insert eye roll)

(In many myths and religions there are many gods and symbols of the serpent so for this one the comparing is not only of the Bible. And even then most of the time snake is good, such as withe a snake being a sign to carry a message to John)

Ok so first let’s start withe the Bible

The Bible never actually states that the serpent is of satan, only that it is of temptation and sin. So there is no definite person or title I can compare crow to. (Well satan has been called serpent BUT NO WERE GETTING OFF SUBJECT THIS IS NOT A BIBLE STUDY)

(The only definite name the serpent was called other then words of titles was Nahash but that means serpent in Hebrew)

I do want to add that the serpent never actually lied to Eve or Adam it actually went on to say how “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” And that is what happened. They became aware and held wisdom aloft. (Crow is actually very proud of showing Adam and Eve the knowledge of good and evil because I bet he was reflecting himself on it thinking that he sure would’ve wanted to know some of that before he fell) I’m pretty sure there’s a quote from Neil gaiman about this.

Now serpents have never actually been seen as anything bad other than in the Bible. In most religions they are known to be symbols of life, death, and rebirth. As well as cleverness and slyness. In the Bible the serpent symbolizes evil powers, temptations, chaos, but also life, rebirth, and divination. (WE. ARE. NOT. GETTING. OFF. SUBJECT.)

ANYWAYS

So crow was the serpent, temptation, he could’ve also been a sort of Mestophillies (but I have nothing to back that up)

Honesty he kinda reminds me more of loki, chaotic but not in an evil sense. Sorta chaotic neutral.

Ok back to the list

Crow was famous serpent dude

Crow was also the watcher to the first humans (Adam and Eve)

He was chosen to not only watched the antichrist (death the everything, very high feat) but also deliver it.

He was there at the very beginning, and was one of the original fallen angels

Oh and I’m pretty sure he’s the only demon who can make holy miracles

So he’s one of the oldest (he even created nebulas for hells sake)

He himself was able to deter Lucifer himself by doing his stopping time in a different dimension thingy (I’m pretty sure this isn’t a normal power, it stopped satan for hells sake!)

He also was the dude who took Jesus on a road trip (in the Bible it was Jesus was tempted by satan for 40 days)

I've noticed that every other demon is rotting

But crow is as maculent as ever

He also seems to be the only one to have Angel wings, even if there black

He created original sin

Response for the whole corruption of gods creation

Honestly I can see why he is the serpent he’s very resourceful and clever (the switcheroo as one example you go azzy and crow)

While we are at this let’s talk about what type of Angel crow was when he fell.

We know that even though he has been corresponded to Lucifer due to the snake thingy, he isn't Lucifer

We know he is higher rank then Muriel

In season two they hinted he was a prince, saying only one other high ranked Angel fell (minus Lucifer)

AND crow had clearance to open the file folder even though Muriel specifically said only the highest ranked angels could open it

I think that crow was corresponded withe archangel Raphael maybe

The only archangel not mentioned in good omens is Raphael

Now let’s talk about Bible Raphael

So Raphael is the second in command of god

Or third

Ok wait so Lucifer used to be the first, then Michael, then Raphael

So we will say third

Raphael was the Angel of healing, but also the Angel of death and the protecter of the third heaven (third heaven is the heaven that god himself dwells in)

He was the closest archangel to humans

Also Gabriel and Raphael are the archangels who created the stars

Oh also Raphael is the one who conquered the demon asmodeus (and guesss what azzy thought Crowley changed his name to~)

Raephael is the "the Angel of spirits of men" and "heal the earth which the angels have defiled" so that could be why crow likes humans so much (as you can tell in the show I will not be elaborating)

Raphael symbol is a snake entwined withe a wooden staff

In other words Raphael is the guardian

Oh and Raphael is the one to call judgement day (the day of reckoning, dies Israel)

This corresponds to Raphael Islam name

in the islam raephal is also called Israfel which is the dude who trumpets the Qiyamah (did I spell that right I dunno) which is the day of judgement in Islam

So he tells the start of the apocalypse(ish)

His titles are

Angel of Song. The burning one. Herald of the dawning day.

And another connection that is a maybe this

So Azrael is the Angel of death

He is fallen Angel and is left shoulder Angel (left corresponds to evil)

(I wonder if crow is left handed??)

(Though Crowley from what I have seen has always been depicted on the left side)

Also in some depictions Raphael is the only Angel (other then I think ururial) that has black wings

So azrael is carrier of souls

He's also the Angel of passage

So yeah there’s that

Then there’s Gadriel

Wait imma need to add

So Gadriel and Azazel are from a group of fallen angels in the book of Enoch called the watchers. The watchers were angels who fell because they became involved withe women. The watchers fell before Lucifer (they fell willingly accourding to some accounts)

There are 200 watchers that fell (Gadriel was the third of five leaders)

Ok so Gadriel was the Angel who watched over the garden of Eden (in the book of Enoch)

The direct quote is “And the third was named Gâdreêl: he it is who showed the children of men all the blows of death, and he led astray Eve, and showed [the weapons of death to the sons of men] the shield and the coat of mail, and the sword for battle, and all the weapons of death to the children of men. And from his hand they have proceeded against those who dwell on the earth from that day and for evermore”

He was who taught mankind warfare, and was also the snake who tempted Eve, maybe. It’s hard to tell if he is the one to be the serpent or if he failed at keeping evil (Lucifer) out of Eden. Nevertheless it does add up withe Crowley being the snake but not being Lucifer.

Aaaand the last one is barachiel, who taught mankind astronomy and was the Angel of blessings before he fell (he is part of the watchers as well)

And then there’s this little fact

Aziraphale (in Hebrew depending on how it’s spelled) translates to either helper of the defiant one, heedless helper, helper of the fallen

In an interview it was said that azirahphale would be spelled like Aziraphael to keep withe the angels having el at the end (michael, Gabriel, Uriel, etc etc) and if that’s the case then it could translate to Raphael is my strength (because azir can be translate to helper)

Crowely name is קראו לי in Hebrew. Which means they called me, in past tense specifically. Crawley in Hebrew is קראלי (change in pronunciation and form). It means they call me, specifically present tense. His first name (maybe while he was still in denial of the fall) was crawley, which means call me. That is some real symbolism there…a tad sad

When he changed his name, he only added the letter ו (Vav). Adding this specific letter has a lot of significance to it. that ו is part of God’s Holy Name, which is י-ה-ו-ה (Yud, Hey, Vav, Hey). Adding a letter of god holy name is symbolic of a person’s essential connection to God. Each letter symbolizes a different thing. The ‘י’ in it’s shape is not grounded. It symbolizes not being grounded to earth, only heaven. The ה in its shape envelops a grounded marking. The grounded beings purpose is entirely, and solely, on Earth. What’s so special about the ו part is that it is a connector. It is the literal line connecting the top to the bottom. It channels earth to heaven and heaven to earth.

Crowley is a ו. By him being a fallen angel, he brought a piece of Heaven down to Earth. He is a channel of the two worlds. An example of this was when he and Aziraphale averted the Apocalypse.

He never knew where he belongs, doesn’t know what he was called for, he and azzy were made to connect the two worlds together. Hes not quite an Angel, but neither is he much of a Demon, and has the the imagination of a human. I guess he’s on his own side along withe azzy.

Oh and the fact that together they made a hugggeee miracle, and they were trying to be subtle. So imagine how huge and powerful one where they weren’t trying to be subtle would be.

[cas-coding]

If the drive to Stanford is hell, the look in Sam’s eyes when he sees Dean for the first time in years is worse. Dean knows he looks different, his cheekbones much more prominent and an Adam’s apple sitting under his chin. Sam nearly jumps when Dean speaks, stinging Dean to his core. He’d forgotten that this wasn’t what he used to sound like, that he had to pump himself full of testosterone each week, testosterone that he hadn’t managed to get any sooner than twenty-three.

That was long after Sam left.

The ride in the Impala is a quiet one, the tension between the brothers weighing them down. It wasn’t even about their dad or the hunt, it was about Dean. It was about how Dean’s chest is flat, how his voice is deep, how he actually looks like a Dean, how Jess had looked at Sam and said, “Oh, Sam, I didn’t know you had a brother too!”

Eventually, Dean caves, tired of Sam’s eyes on him. “Go ahead. Ask what you want to ask,” he spits, his hands tight on the wheel.

Sam sighs beside Dean, rolling his eyes before looking out the window. “What’s going on?”

“Dad’s missing, I thought I said that,” Dean replies, but that’s not what Sam’s talking about. He’s just gotta be sure before saying it all, making sure Sam actually wants to hear it, actually cares about Dean after all this time.

Snorting, Sam turns to look at Dean again. “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. Now what’s going on with you? You’ve,” Sam pauses, searching for a word, “Changed since i left, so I have to ask: was it me?”

“No,” Dean admits, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them. It falls silent again before Dean clears his throat, snapping, “We’re done now?”

He’s not one to talk about his feelings; he never was. He didn’t say anything to their dad other than asking him to call him Dean, and besides a few smacks upside the head for not looking like Mary anymore, their dad was okay about it. It was easier to drag a son around than a daughter, Dean supposed.

They never talked about it, though. Dean would get mistaken for a boy on a hunt or two and as soon as they’d finish ganking the bitch, they’d all pile into Baby and then Sam would get nosy, asking why Dean didn’t say anything about being called John’s son. “Cause,” Dean would say, “It doesn’t matter. We’ll never see them again anyway.” That was the most they ever talked about it, and maybe that’s why rage bubbles up inside Dean when Sam speaks again.

“Dean, we’re family. Tell me what’s going on with you. You know what I mean,” Sam pushes, his tone sharp. His eyes nearly burn a hole into the side of Dean’s head before Dean pulls the Impala off the road, looking over at his brother.

“What is there to say, Sammy?” Dean snaps, looking out his window before biting at his lip. He had opened up this conversation, for starters, so why was he so keen on shutting it down? It wasn’t the end of the world; it wasn’t close to the scariest thing Dean had ever done, not by a long shot, so why did he want to open the car door and run, get as far away as possible?

Sam sighs, a big heave of air, and then he’s tapping his foot, shaking the car. “I just want to know what I missed. If you don’t wanna talk about it, whatever. Fine by me, but I’d listen. Just for the record,” Sam mumbles, and despite his low volume, he’s genuine. He’d listen to as much as Dean has to say, all because he’s a good brother.

Swallowing thickly, Dean closes his eyes, resting his forehead against the cold glass of the driver’s side window. It takes him a minute to sort himself out, put the words in the right order, but then he’s speaking, his voice rough as he explains. “Not much to it, really, nothing you don’t already know. I’ve been Dean as long as I can remember, even back before Mom died. I just got the chance to look more like it a year or so after you left,” he says, vaguely gesturing with his hand, “Snagged some medication, pump myself full of it every Thursday, and then boom. Voice drops, stubble grows in, cheekbones get all handsome. Magic of modern medicine, hey?”

“I guess,” Sam replies, cut and dry, and part of Dean is itching to look over at his brother, gauge his reaction, but he can’t, afraid of what he might see in his brother’s face. Eventually, curiosity wins over, Dean shifting just a bit in his seat to pop one eye open and take a glance, getting an eyeful of nothing. Sam looked like Sam, just like he had ten minutes ago, just like he had ten years ago.

Sam clears his throat, letting out a chuckle. “You can look at me, Dean, I’m not gonna bite,” he laughs, and Dean snaps his head up, making eye contact with his brother. “It’s fine, really,” Sam reinforces, “It’s cool. You seem like, I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, “You.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Dean snorts, “Took a lot to ‘seem like me.’ Time, scars, money,” he laughs, “’Course, none of the money was mine, but David Johnson’s going to get a hell of a hospital bill for the whole,” Dean vaguely gestures to his chest, “This removal.”

Then it’s Sam’s turn to snort, letting out a string of laughter. “Yeah, how many hunts did you have to sit out waiting for that to heal?”

“Well, tore my stitches out twice, but I was back in the game within three days,” Dean says, practically puffing his chest out. He shouldn’t feel some sense of pride over the fact that he’d stitched his chest back together with dental floss, but it did make him sound ten times more badass than Sam ever was, and that makes him smile.

“Dude!” Sam shouts, a smile pulled tight across his face, “The, like, number one rule of the universe is don’t fuck with stitches? What did you do? You fucked with your stitches!”

They’re both overcome with laughter, struggling to pull in air as they laugh so hard tears come to their eyes, and then Dean knows. This is what brotherhood feels like, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“In theory, group counseling to address the root causes of abusive behavior sounds promising. If batterer intervention programs make abusers less violent and, as a result, victims safer, why wouldn’t it be a preferable alternative to sentencing someone to, say, a year in jail, as Majors faced? But decades after the first programs were established, we have limited and highly contradictory research on how well they work. Some studies have found batterer intervention programs reduce future violence; others conclude they have little to no impact. The National Institute of Justice says results are “mixed.” Complicating matters, batterer intervention programs aren’t a monolith, and curriculum and quality varies wildly from one to another…

But while batterer intervention programs may prove effective when abusers attend, a huge portion of participants simply don’t. Anywhere from 15 to 58 percent of participants fail to complete treatment, often with few consequences. A 2022 state audit of California batterer intervention programs, including those in L.A. County, where Majors is expected to attend, found that probation officers and program providers frequently failed to inform the court about absences and other probation violations, including serious ones, such as contacting a victim under a protective order. In California, like in Massachusetts, those who completed the programs had a lower rate of reoffending than those who dropped out — 20 percent compared to 65 percent — but notably, nearly half of the domestic-violence offenders reviewed by the state did not complete the program. The “system has not adequately held offenders accountable,” the audit concluded, adding that these issues “have plagued the batterer intervention system for at least three decades, creating a critical need for statewide guidance and oversight.” Without proper supervision, these programs can end up functioning as literal get-out-of-jail-free cards.”

One evening last summer, I logged onto Zoom to observe a virtual counseling program for men who perpetrated domestic violence, run by a Boston-based group called Emerge. There were nine men of various ages and ethnicities and backgrounds on the call. Some were at home, video-conferencing from their bedrooms, one was in the car, and another was taking a leisurely walk outdoors, his sunglasses blocking his eyes from view. Emerge has a set format for these classes, which run weekly for 40 weeks and are generally populated by men court-mandated to attend by a judge. Participants begin by identifying themselves and the name of the person they abused, serving, it seemed to me, a dual purpose—centering the victim at the onset of the session and promoting responsibility. At Alcoholics Anonymous, it’s Hi, I’m John and I’m an alcoholic. At Emerge, it’s Hi, I’m John and I’m an abuser.

The walker, whom I’ll call Jeremy, was doing his weekly check-in with the group when David Adams, the co-founder of Emerge and one of two facilitators on the call, asked him a direct question: What was the abuse he committed that landed him in the program? Emerge encourages men to talk candidly and in detail about their abuse — what preceded it, what they did, how it impacted their partner — and accept feedback from the rest of the group about their behavior. The hope is that participants will begin to recognize and interrogate their own patterns of abuse and, over time, undergo the slow and uncomfortable process of change. To be successful, this intervention model requires active, incisive coaching by group leaders, Adams explained in a paper describing the program, as left on their own, “abusive men tend to give superficial or highly skewed reports of their interactions with their partners.”

Jeremy, still walking, began describing his relationship with his ex-girlfriend. They both struggled with insecurity, he said, leading to arguments over stupid things. “We were both wounded birds, just trying to soar through the sky, and we just, kind of like, we didn’t have very good communicative skills,” he said. Adams stopped his digressive answer there. The question, he reminded Jeremy, was how exactly did he abuse his partner? Now, Jeremy’s voice sped up. “Just like … pushing … I like, pulled her down the stairs, but like two … two stairs, you know?” he replied. “It wasn’t like I dragged her down a flight of stairs and she was all beat up or nothing crazy like that.” He went on: “I don’t want to reflect on my past because I am accountable for my actions, and stuff like that. But it was again, like I said, based upon our insecurities and not having good communicative skills.”

In Jeremy’s telling, his physical violence toward his girlfriend was caused by their mutual insecurity. It was only a few stairs. Nothing crazy. It is exactly this type of thinking that batterer intervention programs, as they are called, are designed to combat. Emerge, circa 1977, was the first such program in the U.S., born at a time when feminist activists were demanding national attention to the neglected issue of domestic violence. As hotlines and shelters sprung up for victims, Adams said, the natural next question within the movement was what to do with the men causing harm?

In the years since, programs have proliferated (over 2,500 exist, according to one count) and are now fully integrated into the criminal-justice system. These days, if you are convicted of a domestic-violence offense, it is likely you’ll be mandated to go to one. Millions of men have attended, including celebrities such as Mel Gibson, Christian Slater, and Chris Brown, who bragged about completing the class on Twitter: “Boyz run from there [sic] mistakes.. Men learn from them!!!” he wrote. (Four years later, a judge granted another woman, Karrueche Tran, a five-year restraining order against Brown, who she said he threatened to kill her.) And earlier this month, Jonathan Majors was sentenced to a 52-week batterer intervention program in California after being convicted of assaulting and harassing his ex-girlfriend Grace Jabbari.

In theory, group counseling to address the root causes of abusive behavior sounds promising. If batterer intervention programs make abusers less violent and, as a result, victims safer, why wouldn’t it be a preferable alternative to sentencing someone to, say, a year in jail, as Majors faced? But decades after the first programs were established, we have limited and highly contradictory research on how well they work. Some studies have found batterer intervention programs reduce future violence; others conclude they have little to no impact. The National Institute of Justice says results are “mixed.” Complicating matters, batterer intervention programs aren’t a monolith, and curriculum and quality varies wildly from one to another.

Most states have legal standards that regulate programs, but oversight falls to different departments with distinct goals. In California, for example, the Probation Department is in charge. In Massachusetts, it’s the Department of Public Health. Generally, participants are mandated to attend once a week for anywhere from 8 to 52 weeks (the longer the better for real change, Adams says). While models range, most programs are a mix of therapy and education, covering topics such as conflict-resolution skills, effects of abuse on partners and children, and how to take accountability. With victims’ consent, Emerge checks in with them throughout the 40 weeks to see if there has been any additional violence or threats and assess victims’ sense of safety. If a perpetrator refuses to own up to his actions or suggests he might commit more violence or stops attending, programs are typically supposed to communicate with probation, courts, and even the partner in question. “If we get somebody 12 weeks into our program who’s still blaming his partner, then we put that in a letter,” Adams said, which can be helpful to partners who are trying to make a decision about whether to stay in the relationship.

Adams, a psychologist who grew up with an abusive father, is a true believer in the power of these programs to save lives. When I asked him about the dismal research on effectiveness, he said studies often lump together participants who quit with those who complete it. Truly changing someone’s deep-seated and long-held thought patterns and beliefs takes time, he explained. “Many of the studies look at somebody who dropped out after one session and reoffend and count that as a program failure,” he said. “If substance-abuse programs were evaluated that way, they would all be considered to be failures.” He directed me to a 2015 pilot study conducted by the Harvard Kennedy School that assessed three batterer intervention programs in Massachusetts, including Emerge. It found that participants who completed such a program were 28 percent less likely to recidivate — measured as an arrest for a future domestic-violence-related crime — than those who failed to complete the program. Stated another way, those who dropped out were three times more likely to be arrested for domestic violence again than those who completed the work. (Of course, evaluating a program’s success using future arrests reveals only the tip of the iceberg, as domestic violence is chronically underreported to police.)

But while batterer intervention programs may prove effective when abusers attend, a huge portion of participants simply don’t. Anywhere from 15 to 58 percent of participants fail to complete treatment, often with few consequences. A 2022 state audit of California batterer intervention programs, including those in L.A. County, where Majors is expected to attend, found that probation officers and program providers frequently failed to inform the court about absences and other probation violations, including serious ones, such as contacting a victim under a protective order. In California, like in Massachusetts, those who completed the programs had a lower rate of reoffending than those who dropped out — 20 percent compared to 65 percent — but notably, nearly half of the domestic-violence offenders reviewed by the state did not complete the program. The “system has not adequately held offenders accountable,” the audit concluded, adding that these issues “have plagued the batterer intervention system for at least three decades, creating a critical need for statewide guidance and oversight.” Without proper supervision, these programs can end up functioning as literal get-out-of-jail-free cards.

In 2016, I was invited to attend a conference on batterer intervention in Dearborn, Michigan. For three days, I listened as leaders in the field, many of whom had been working on this issue since the ’80s, described what they’d learned. Session titles, such as “Real Change, Real Challenges: Moving Forward Through the Backlash” and “Let’s Set the Record Straight!” reflected a sense of frustration with how outsiders perceive the work. I left with the impression that many batterer intervention practitioners genuinely believe that reforming abusers is a critical step — maybe even the critical step — to reducing domestic violence yet is chronically underfunded, the ugly duckling of the movement to stop violence against women. Few advocacy groups are interested in raising money for programs that help abusers, especially if it seems like it might divert resources from victims.

Bringing us back to Jeremy, the Emerge participant. After he finally acknowledged to the group that he pushed his girlfriend down “two” stairs, Adams called him out. He noted that Jeremy kept referring to the core problem as “our” insecurities, as if his girlfriend’s insecurity played a role in the violence. “You’re taking responsibility for your abusive behavior means it’s 100 percent a choice that you’re making. Regardless of how insecure or whatever the other person’s feelings are, right? It has no relevance.”

“I comprehend everything you’re saying,” Jeremy responded guardedly.

Adams continued. “I’m just recommending that you think differently about it, because if that’s the way you continue to think about it, then you’re not responsible. You’re saying, ‘Well, if I get into another situation where both people are insecure, then of course I’m going to be abusive,’ as if one follows naturally from the other.” At this, Jeremy squirmed and frowned. The audio cut out for a few seconds.

Once he was reconnected, he conceded the point. “I should have said ‘my insecurity,’” he said. “I absolutely agree to what you’re trying to say. And my mind-set changes in each group that I come into.”

When asked what Jeremy hoped to get from the program, he said he wanted to learn from his mistakes. “I want this lesson to have an effect, a very big impact in my behavior, my lifestyle and everything.” Of course, it’s easy to say that, whether you really mean it, and some men do fake their way through the classes without genuinely engaging with the content. Regardless, Adams said, “fake it ’til you make it” can still produce an impact.

I asked Adams how Jeremy was doing, nine months after I observed him in class. He’s still attending, Adams said, which is something. He’s taking somewhat more responsibility, but he still deflects from time to time. There’s still more work to be done.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

smut prompts: 143. “You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.” baptist and the blade

Can you believe it, I actually finished one of these smut prompts from forever ago ghgjfksdl

Anyway, here's some Kit and John being the weirdos they are

Can also be read on AO3

MINORS DNI - smut under the cut

His arms were numb, pins and needles prickling his skin. He assumed he must have slept in an awkward way, stress often resulted in him sleeping in odd positions. When he went to move, he was brought to his senses as his wrists shook above his head.

"What the f-"

"Hello, John." 

There was that sultry tone he so craved to hear. Having to sleep alone in his king sized bed just wasn't the same, he'd much rather have her coiled up in the sheets with him. Pale blue eyes stared out from the dark corner of his bedroom. Moonlight reflected off the point of the blade in her hands as she spun it against the cedar dresser she leaned up against. 

"Deputy!" He suddenly didn't feel so bad about his predicament, knowing she was the one to stick him in such a situation. Trying to sit up, he shook his wrists a little harder. "These aren't just for show, are they? These are the real thing!"

She stepped into the silver light coming in through the open window, and the long line of her legs came into view. Bare, pale and smooth, her tattoo and scars on show for him. 

"Straight from my belt."

Her knife gleamed as she ran its tip against her thigh, pulling at the skin but not enough to break it, just to leave a trail behind from where it kissed her flesh.

"Are you going to punish me, Deputy?"

She scoffed, "It's hardly punishment if you're asking for it."

"Am I being rewarded then?" He asked, barely able to contain his amorous glee at the entire scenario that was being played out. Pushing himself back against his pillows, the blanket slipped down his abdomen, revealing his own scars and tattoos in an odd sort of mating dance as his Cheshire grin spread across his lips. 

She stalked towards the bed, climbing on to the foot of it, hands and knees dragging slowly towards him. Bright eyes flashed at the sight of the gold cross dangling between her curtains of red hair. She rarely ever wore her hair down, he was more used to seeing that damn braid of hers. Climbing onto his lap, straddling her thighs on either side of him, his cock was already getting hard and pressing up against the toned muscles of her leg.

Wearing only one of his shirts, he swallowed at the swath of cleavage he was given to feast upon with his eyes, and that mark of WRATH he'd personally carved into her skin above it as she placed her hand upon his shoulder, leaning down her mouth grazing against his. 

"Hope you don't mind me borrowing your clothes. I didn't have anything else to wear and I didn't want to dirty the sheets with all that blood."

He swallowed, adam's apple bobbing as the cold bite of her knife dragged along his chest. "Hebrews 13:16. And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased."

"God, I love it when you talk dirty to me, John." She husked.

He smirked up at her, his grin as slimy as his personality. "Why am I not surprised that the sinner decides to mock me?"

"Why do you keep letting me fuck you then? Hardly the act of a devout man."

"You do so enjoy playing with my head, don't you?"

"Only 'cause it clearly turns you on."

Her hand slipped from his shoulder and caressed the length of his abdomen before falling between his legs, running her fingers over his cock through the blanket, making him hiss.

"So sensitive," she teased.

"You've left me wanting for so long, Kathleen. You can hardly blame me."

"Suppose that's true. And since those hands of yours are out of commission, guess it's all up to me to solve the matter, hmm?" Bringing the knife to his shirt, she slowly popped buttons free and the material fell away from her, exposing her bare breasts.

They weren't the largest he'd seen, but what they lacked in size they more than made up for in how perky and firm they were. Her nipples were the same shade of strawberry pink as her lips, already getting hard the longer they were exposed to the cool air of the room.

He licked his lips, expecting to wrap his mouth around each bud, pulling each little desperate moan and whine from her as she pulled at his hair as she so often did. 

"I know where you're looking, John. My eyes are up here."

His ocean eyes dragged up to look at her smirking face as she toyed with the cross pendant around her neck, dragging it back and forth along the chain. 

"Say it, John. It's just one word."

"Please?"

Her teeth dragged over her lower lip, pulling the pump pout along with them. Strawberry pink shifted into cherry red as the flush that started in her chest rose up to her cheeks.

"Such a good boy." 

He whined at the praise as her nails clawed along his chest, catching against the scar tissue and his nipples. Gently stroking back up to his neck, as she grabbed at the hair on the back of his head. 

When his lips finally connected with her it was like being given a little taste of heaven, that small bit of honey that helped make the rest of the tedium of the Reaping go down easier. Pulling and sucking on her nipple, teeth dragging over it as it became stiff against his tongue lashing against it. His eyes shone up at her, as he watched her eyes close and her breath begin to pant. Her hips starting their slow grind against him, grinding into him, using the folds of his blanket for the extra friction. All the while tugging on his hair, her nails digging into his scalp. 

God, how he wished his hands were free to roam against her now, to feel every shift of the muscle below her skin, to grab at her other breast and show it the appreciation it deserved. To bless her entire being with his touch, but instead, he was forced to make use of the meager scraps he'd been given.

So lost in his own contemplation, he hadn't noticed the blanket had slipped down his hips, and she was now grinding against him, it was only once her slick began to drip down him that he took notice. His eyes falling to between his legs as the auburn hair of her cunt met with the black hair that tufted around the base of his cock. Her mound slid against the length of him, veins rubbing against her clit as she dragged it against him with long, slow strokes.

His eyes rolled back into his head just at the feeling of the wet caress of her cunt against him. Mouth slipping free from her with one last stroke of his tongue against her breast.

"Please?" 

Looking up at her with the biggest eyes he could muster, desperate and pleading, bright blue darkened by his blown out pupils.

"You want me to fuck you, John?"

"Yes," he hissed.

Grabbing the base of his cock, she stroked her hand up against it, squeezing against it as she brought her fist up to the head, his pre-cum already dribbling from the tip. Leaning over, she spat down onto it, despite the fact that it was already glistening with her own arousal, rubbing her saliva up and down his shaft, coating him in her. 

A gasp escaped him, as she stroked him, staring into his eyes like she wanted to fucking eat him.

"Please?"

"So impatient."

He dug at the metal that connected him to the headboard, hands slipping with sweat, he could barely get a grip. Tossing his head back against the wood, his hips thrusting up towards her hand, fucking into it deeper, chasing his release.

She tutted her tongue at his vulgar display. "John, please, you're embarrassing yourself. You're the Herald, you have an image to protect."

"Fuck you!" He snapped.

Her cruel laugh only made him more desperate for the torture to end. He was doing what she wanted, did as she asked, he was willing to beg for his release.

"Say it again."

His eyes narrowed, his mouth pulled into a straight line. "Please?" The word pulled from him begrudgingly.

"Just remember, you're the one who keeps asking me to come back. You got yourself stuck in this mess. You've only got yourself to blame, Baptist."

"Harlot."

She lifted her hips, and the sheen of her was spread along her inner thighs. Sliding the head of his cock against her soaking wet pussy, pushing it up inside of her as she slowly sunk down onto it, letting him fill her.

A low, guttural moan fell out of his mouth, as he could feel her clench around his length.

"Fuck." The word dragged from him slowly as he bit down on his lip, wishing he had a fist free to use instead. "Use me."

"Love to."

Her pelvis moved in circles, as she rode him, stroking his cock with the wet lips of her cunt. She knew exactly how to move her body to pull his seed from him, all while using him to get herself off, having him rub against that magical point inside of her that brought her to heaven right along with him. 

He clawed at the chains of the cuffs, thrusting his hips up into her, driving himself mad as he panted heavily, desperate for more of her, all of her. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

He chanted it again and again as he was brought closer and closer to his climax. His head lolled back against the pillows and his eyes closed as an extended moan leaked from his mouth.

Fingers wrapped around his throat, her nails dragged down his chest over his scar. “I wanna make you scream.”

“Oh my God. Yes!” He fought to get the words out as his cock twitched inside of her. His muscles all flexing at once as he pushed himself deeper inside her velvet walls, rocking in and out of her, not letting himself slip free. 

Driving her hips down onto him, she flipped her head back letting her flowing mane of red hair spill down her back, beads of sweat dripping down her chest and abdomen. Her muscles rippled under the skin, her scars and tattoos flexing right along with them. 

She was a succubus straddled atop him but he didn't have the power or the restraint to tell her no. With each shuddering breath a high pitched moan squeaked from him, he was getting so close now. 

His brow furrowed, his mouth falling agape as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh Yes! Deputy, yes!"

But before he could release, he felt the bite of the cold night air on his still twitching cock. He peaked with one eye, and she smirked down at him, looking all too pleased with herself.

"Can't have you getting off before I do, John. That's not how you treat a guest. Bad manners."

He threw his head back against the pillows and let out a frustrated groan. "Dammit, Dep –"

But before he could get another word out the slick lips of her cunt were pressed to his mouth. Now this was a treat he had yet to receive from her, and he was all too happy with his gift, making sure he showed her his appreciation. 

His tongue lapped at every glistening morsel of pink flesh it could reach, licking long stripes up and down her, using her moans as a guide. Finally wrapping his mouth around her clit, her fiery red pubic hair scratching against his nose, her scent filling his nostrils. 

There was nothing attending to his needs, not even her hand, but that didn't stop him from thrusting at the air around him as he closed his eyes and ate her out, moaning against her. 

Big blue doe eyes stared up from between her thighs, checking to make sure she appreciated his efforts, and he was well rewarded with her fingers dragging through his hair, ruffling up his moussed locks, followed by a long drawn out moan that was music to his ears.

"Yes, John! Yes!"

[yr-obedt-cicero]

just curious- somewhat in relation to your fic- but do you think Eliza would have been accepting towards Alexander's and John's relationship? if she ever found out.

Nope. And I highly doubt she ever knew either.

Although we don't have anything that indicates Eliza's opinion on sodomy, it is likely safe to assume she was probably your average, period-typical, homophobic, upperclass woman. Maybe even a bit worse considering she was a devoted christian, and was just a judgmental person in general. Eliza was religious and was adamant about it all considering she was often the one instilling religion and proper Christian behaviors in her kids since Hamilton wasn't really a religious person up until the last few years of his life.

I don't see her as being anywhere near accepting, and I often see people comparing it to the Reynolds affair which is just refutable—Infidelity and affairs were actually a commonplace thing of the day, and it wasn't like the Hamiltons' were sheltered from this issue with Hamilton's own family, and their association with others like Gouverneur Morris. Hamilton and Eliza shared the same class with many couples and families that were a victim of such, so honestly, I can imagine it being more forgivable than sodomy (Plus the whole infidelity loop that twists them in since Hamilton was still in a relationship with Laurens when marrying Eliza). And that point, Eliza would have definitely left.

And there are arguments that she supposedly would have been if she didn't mind Baron von Steuben associating with the family, which leads to the unfortunate truth that; even if she did, let's say, know about the Baron's inclinations, it wasn't her choice or say who associated with the family. Ultimately it was Hamilton's, and as much as he loved his wife, I highly doubt he was consulting her about that stuff. Also it's faulty to even consider she knew, as the Baron wasn't foolish with this sort of thing—He was smart about being good with making friends with the upperclass society (Y'know, like the Schuylers'). And honestly, all the rumors surrounding around why he got discharged from the Prussian army and the conclusion being that he was gay probably weren't even true. It's more likely he was just released from service because the army was downsizing, it's incredibly hard to believe he could have just been so open about his sexuality to people, especially enough so to get discharged. If anything, the most critical thing was that he remained a bachelor. So, I highly doubt Eliza knew of that either.

And now it comes down to, would Hamilton tell her? I don't think so. Nothing suggests he ever did, and that she ever knew even after both men's deaths. Sure, Hamilton confided a lot to his wife, but this would have been too grave to share. Additionally, there wouldn't be any reason to, Laurens was dead and Hamilton ended up pushing the memory of him far away.

But since you brought up my fic, I'll add on what separates some of my opinions and then my stories; it's fiction, and despite some of my beliefs like Eliza never agreeing with this sort of thing, or that Laurens and Hamilton would have fallen out of contact had he lived, it doesn't mean I'm always going to implement the most realistic thing in a fiction story I'm writing for fun. It's all about being hypothetical, and exploring those what-if's—So, please remember I'm not always going to be displaying what I say here in my work. Sometimes I will, but in this case where SFP is just a fun little project I started writing for fun and interactions I wanted to imagine, not everything is going to be the most realistic case in scenario.

[raceydays-hopelesshaze]

I watched this video that argued Adam has actually been alive this whole time and working as Jigsaw’s informant/stalking potential victims and I went “mmmmm…. No.” BUT. I does make sense for Jigsaw to use Adam’s skill set so what if he (unknowingly) worked for Jigsaw prior to the bathroom trap? It’s made clear he doesn’t ask many questions in his line of work. Plus, John is shown to plan stuff like 3049373 steps ahead and the timeline of the first 7 movies is much shorter than it seems so it’s not too far fetched to think Adam was the one that collected most of the information/photographs of future victims before the events of the first movie. “Wouldn’t that make Jigsaw a hypocrite for hiring Adam then trapping him because of his job?” NO BECAUSE- 1) he’s kind of already a hypocrite and I don’t think it’s register to him but more importantly 2) he traps Adam for being an “apathetic” “voyeur” - just taking the shots and observing while never interfering unlike John who very much DOES interfere after learning about his subjects. And, as we all know, Adam was doomed from the start of the movie. John’s whole thing is that he wants all his subjects to survive and “get better” so it doesn’t make sense for Adam to be a) left to die b) pitted against Lawrence who was explicitly told to kill Adam or c) given no real instructions on how to escape or pass the bathroom “test” like Lawrence was. It was essentially RIGGED against him from the start, which is NOT Jigsaw’s MO. Another one of John’s doomed participants? The guy Amanda had to kill to find the key for the reverse bear trap but it’s implied by details/writing in the scene that he had his own trap before her and failed, making his (doomed) role in Amanda’s game his punishment. Which is why it would makes sense that while the bathroom was Lawrence’s test it was Adam’s punishment for already failing his own. I think his (unknown) role in compiling information on Jigsaw’s subjects was his test. He saw (lol) all the same people and behavioral patterns John did and still chose to do nothing about it. To not care. To be apathetic. Even when (some) of the people he would have stalked committed actual crimes! Being presented with all these “flawed” individuals John thought capable of and ready to change was his test and he failed by not getting involved. But just as John needed information (compiled by Adam) on his future subjects, he also needed information compiled on Adam himself. And for that job, Amanda did the work. The deleted scenes and the final cut of Saw III show her getting emotional over killing Adam presumably because she was the one following him around (not so apathetically) before the trap. She doesn’t seem to be as affected by the other people she kills or helps kill because Adam is the only person she stalked and developed some sort of connection to. Most if not all of the other stalking on other subjects was done by Adam.

[hedgebotherer]

Random thoughts about Good Omens 2 that either I haven't seen addressed much or haven't been addressed to death or I just want to address anyway.

- The opening scene with the creation of the nebula was astounding, despite how distracted I was by AngelCrowley's Mr Whippy curls. It really hammered home the themes of the original book and the show as a whole to the point where it reminded me why I see Good Omens as essentially the secular humanist Bible. I feel like Good Omens 2 was more scathing in its criticism of the idea of God's 'ineffable plan'. It pulled no punches and kept punching through the whole Job story line. Religious people may disagree, or agree but more angrily.

- Why Eccles cakes? Don't get me wrong, I like an Eccles cake. They're considered old fashioned, but they're actually nice. I'm one of those weirdos who enjoys dried fruit. But calming? I wonder if the whole thing was a subtle bit of foreshadowing based on the fact that Eccles cakes (along with their dried fruit filled cousins, such as the Chorley cake and the currant slice) are sometimes known as fly pies.

- Aziraphale slightly misquoted the Buddy Holly song Everyday when first asking the record shop owner Maggie about it. I don't know how likely this is, but I wonder if this was a sneaky reference to the fact that the Good Omens novel quite famously got many of the song lyrics it quoted slightly wrong (to the point where avid reference collectors wondered if it was deliberate).

- Everybody and their talking dog spotted the Discworld 'seamstress' reference, but not everybody might be aware that this may have been a real historic euphemism for sex workers.

- Some viewers night also not realise that John Hammiel's 'Who told you I was naked?' is a Biblical reference. 'Who told you that you were naked?' is something God asks Adam in Genesis. I admittedly only know this because of a sketch from A Bit Of Fry And Laurie!

- The idea that a song can be remembered even after the rest of your memory is jumbled might have a bittersweet real world inspiration. Neil Gaiman once recounted his favourite memory of Sir Terry. He said: "The last time I saw him. We had been left on our own and Terry (who had Alzheimer’s) had sort of drifted into his head. He stopped talking. So I started to sing They Might Be Giants’ song Shoehorn With Teeth. And after a few lines, Terry started to sing along.". This song seems to have been 'their' song. You can even find a clip of them singing it together!

- I had no idea ducks love frozen peas. This is important information.

- Speaking of ducks, way back when the credits sequence was first dropped I thought I spotted among the procession of animated characters a duck playing an accordion. But, no, surely if there was such a thing then everybody would be talking about it. Then, in a scene were a man is miraculously evicted from his seat in a bar, he's shown reading a newspaper with a headline about a duck that was taught to play the accordion. Vindication! I want this musical duck to be significant to series 3 somehow.

[himbos-hotline]

smut prompt: “are you..are you blushing?” “NO physical activity just makes me red okay”

hangmatt?

Show the method of your selfless tongue [Give me a sermon]

Word count: 3910 words Ship: Matt Jackson/ "Hangman" Adam Page, "Hangman Adam Page" & The Dark Order Characters: "Hangman" Adam Page, Matt Jackson, John Silver, Alex Reynalds Triggers: smut, unprotected sex [dont be like hangmatt.], feminisation, praise kink, blowjobs, Top!Hanger, Bottom!Matt, no verbal consent. Authors note: This fic hit me like a train at like, Five in the morning and it is now seven in the morning. The elite reunion on Dynimite made me insane, how the rest of us Elite girlies feeling? If this flops I will cry. Read on AO3

Adam doesn’t want to talk about it. He definitely doesn’t want to talk about anything that just happened. But as John presses his hand into his shoulder Adam snaps his eyes up to stare at him through his eyelashes. “So…” He starts, thumb stroking the curve of his shoulder blade. It's a soft looping moment that stills the anger in Adam's mind, soothing it until it simmers and tempers down into something tight and tired in his stomach. “Do ya wanna talk about what happened out there?” 

Adam pauses slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. He looks like he's thinking but he isn’t. He knows he doesn’t want to talk about the Elite standing beside him again or the small quip in Matt’s lips when they made eye contact, or the fact that for the first time in a while, Adam actually felt anxious. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that Kenny walked away, left him when he needed him the most. Again. 

The pressure on his shoulder; heavy and comforting, brings him out of his own thoughts and John looks down at him, head tilted to the side. “Where’d you go?” 

Hell.

Home. 

Adam thinks, eyes creasing together slightly at the two conflicting statements. The Elite wasn’t his home anymore. Maybe they never were. They never really wanted him, he was always second best, always the cow, never the cowboy. “Nowhere. Just tired.” Guilt bubbles at his stomach as he lies to the beaver boys through his teeth. Alex and John had been nothing but good to him, he can trust them so why was he lying to them? “I’m just gonna hit the hay… it's been a long day.” 

Alex nods slightly and stares at Adam from the corner of his eyes. He opens his mouth, closes it before taking Adam’s face in his palm. “Are you gonna be okay?” His hand sneaks to the back of Adam’s head, stroking through his tangled hair, letting the soft blond curls slip through the gaps between his fingers. “A lot of stuff happened tonight; we lost.” 

“Uno got sent to the hospital.” John’s leaning against the headboard of Adam’s bed, hand resting on the small of Adam’s back, fiddling with the tassels on his jacket. “And..” 

“Yeah the Elite. I know..” Adam flails, squirming to sit in the middle of the bed. Legs crossed under him, Adam picks at the invisible patches on his jeans. “I’ll be okay. Promise.” The two of them look at him unconvinced for a few seconds and Adam pushes his smile wider , tries to blink the sleep from the green of his eyes until there's a small glimmer of acceptance in his friends eyes. “I’ll call if anything goes wrong.” 

“You promise.” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow in slight concern. Adam knows they are worrying because they care. He knows they care but he just wants to sleep, their worry makes the anger twist up into a ball of anxiety in his stomach and it's not purposeful. Adam knows what so he presses a hand against his stomach, the ball of his palm pressing into the scarred fat around his hip. “Adam, we love you.” 

Adam’s words are blocked off with a yawn that opens his mouth so wide, that there's a dull pain that tingles through his mouth. The Dark Order boys chuckle, John reaching over to lightly tug at the tip of Hangman’s boots. “Love y’guys too. Now scram before I change my mind.” He chuckles, rolling off the hotel bed. It’s only polite that he walk’s them to the door, even if it is only a few steps. They make smalltalk, Alex pressing his nail against the tacky skin of Adam’s wrist as he pulls open the door and says goodbye. “Text me when we find out anything about Uno, yeah?” 

John nods, wrapping Adam in a tight hug, hands pressing into the small of Adam’s back. “You promise you’ll call if anything goes wrong?” 

“What's the worst that can happen?” Adam states, chuckling his way through the sentence. He grows to regret that statement a few minutes later. He’s standing barefoot and sleepy in the small hotel bathroom, toothpaste foaming over in his mouth where there's a sharp knock at his hotel room door. At first it startles him, his body flinching into alertness and he pads over to the front door. 

Adam all but nearly chokes on his own minty-flavored spit. He wipes his chin, gasps in a few small lungfuls of breath. “Matt?” He stares at his former friend and Matt doesn’t quite stare back. Brown eyes the color of sea-smoothed pebbles scar across his bare chest before falling to the hem of his striped pajama pants. “What uh-” He mentally curses at himself, for opening the door, for not having the right words to talk to his former friend. “What are you doing here?” 

Matt startles almost like he’s surprised that Adam is talking to him and hasn't just slammed the door in his face. “I…” He pinches at the skin between his thumb and forefinger and Adam cocks a small smile, he’s almost endeared that Matt hasn’t fully grown out of the quirks that Adam used to find adorable. “Nick and Cole are uh..out somewhere and Kenny is..” 

“Oh.” Adam can’t help it. He steps forward slightly, trying his best not to crowd Matt in on his doorway and glimpses down the hallway as if making sure he wasn’t going to be randomly jumped. He can’t help but look down at Matt when he picks up the small anxious sound that the smaller man makes when Adam squirms into his space. “Are you..okay?” It’s a stupid question because Matt has started chewing on his bottom lip, pulling at the skin until it comes off in small see-through slithers that he drops into his mouth. He’s anxious and by the way his eyes are flicking across Adam’s face, wide and helplessly annoyed, stressed and inside his own head. 

Some twists in Adam’s mind, that stupid southern politeness that makes Adam step back and hold the door open for Matt, gesturing with his head when Matt tilts his confused and opens his reddening lips to protest. “Make yourself at home?” Adam mumbles, raising his hand to gesture around his small hotel room with his toothbrush. He feels his cheeks blanche slightly when Matt makes an effort to smile. “Sorry about the mess..” 

Matt looks around, spots the small collection of messy clothes and the outfit neatly folded on the chair beside the bed. “Yeah..it's really messy…” He tries to put laughter into his tone but it only quips up with anxiousness. He’s not exactly sure why he came to Adam, they’re not really friends, hell they haven’t really spoken since Kenny returned. But he needs someone outside the Elite to drag him out of his own head, and they were friends. Once.

He perches awkwardly at the edge of Hangman's bed, smiles at his boots tucked under the wooden bedframe. Adam’s always been a man of routine and structure. “A place for everything and everything in its place” he used to tell them in Japan, picking up and folding Matt’s boxers into small squares to tuck neatly into the front of his suitcase. The memory makes Matt smile, warmth pooling in his stomach. He misses Japan sometimes, with its bright lights and streets and rules and food that he couldn’t really eat. And the one hotel room where Adam would curl up between him and Nick, nose pressing into his collarbone for comfort when his anxiety brought loudness to his brain. He misses Japan and trust and Kenny the way he was before, the way he was with them under Kota’s warm gaze- loving and caring and gentle. 

“Hey Matt, what's wrong?” Adam talking almost scares him, he straightens his spine and stares up at him like a meerkat watching a hawn before his brain registers that he is in fact that hawk; the predator coming into Adam’s space. Sitting on his bed like he belongs there. Matt slumps again, stares at the floor until Adam’s weight makes the mattress groan under them. “Matty. Talk to me.” 

Adam’s looking at him with eyes as green as emeralds and summer nights decorated with fireflies and the healthiest crops. Adam is looking at him with softness and concern in his eyes and Matt sighs. “I lost.” His voice is small, rough from disuse. “I keep losing. I’m bringing the Elite down! I keep making us lose and it's all my fault and Kenny is getting more and more frustrated and it’s upsetting Nick and I just don't know what to do anymore. I’m trying..I’m really trying!” Now that Matt’s started, the tsunami of words won’t stop. They’re flooding out his mouth and over his teeth and collecting on the carpet floor of his former friend's hotel room. “I don’t know if I can keep going..I can’t keep letting my family down..” 

“Matty.” Adam’s voice is barely above a whisper, so soft against Matt’s heaving breaths and rough voice that he almost misses it. Until Adam takes his hands between his and squeezes tight enough that it makes Matt look up from the floor, teary eyes blinking at him. “Oh Matty, you don’t let anyone down y’know that right? Ya lost the trios titles, but you’ve never needed gold to show people how great you are.” Adam takes one of his hands off Matt’s, raises his chin with his knuckles and wipes a stray tear off the apple of Matt’s cheek. “Kenny’s getting frustrated because it’s Kenny. But he loves you, more than…anything-”

“Not more than Kota..” Matt admits, eyes flicking over Adam’s. He smiles sadly when the greens of his eyes flicker with understanding. “He loves nobody more than Kota..” He hears Adam sigh and it draws his eyes down towards his lips. There’s toothpaste drying between his top and bottom lip and Matt leans closer, eyes closed as he rests his forehead against Adams. “I’m so tired, Hanger.” 

Adam feels Matt’s hands trembling under his, spots his blown out pupils when his eyes open halfway. He lets Matt search his eyes, lips perfectly parted and red. Adam is the one that's brave enough, that's foolish enough to let Matt kiss the toothpaste taste out his mouth, lets Matt whine into his mouth as Adam licks across his bottom lip, across his teeth when Matt opens his mouth. He tugs at Matt’s hair slightly when he pulls away, heart hammering and lips tingling. “Matty-” 

“I-...” Matt’s blinking at him all slow and cat-like and the fire that’s burning in Adam’s stomach, anger and lust and bereavement shaking up and opening his veins. “Adam?” 

“You’re not failing Matty.” Adam breaths into the gap between his mouth, grinning when Matt shifts forwards to try and close into his space. He shifts away, straightening his back and looking at Matt through his bottom eyelashes; green eyes dark summer leaves. “say it.” 

“I-I’m” Matt hiccups out, tongue feeling heavy and useless in his mouth. He’s shifting, squirming in his space on Adam’s bed, pulling at his shorts. He feels Adam’s fingers tangle into his hair, nails brushing against the crown of Matt’s scalp and it’s enough to turn his brain to mush in his skull. “I’m not failing…” He breathes out and it feels like a small weight is lowered off his shoulders when Adam smiles satisfyingly. 

“Good.” Adam breaths and Matt nearly preens, all brown eyes and brown out pupils sparkling with the praise. “Ya doin so good Matty.” 

“Doin’ good.” Matt gasps out, legs falling jelly-like and numb. When Adam smiles into another kiss, Matt nips at his bottom lip, giggling when Adam gasps. “Please?” His eyebrows crease and he shifts forward. “Wanna be good! Please? Please!” He feels pathetic for begging in his shakingly tearful voice, but Adam presses his finger against Matt’s lips and nods. 

He settles kisses against his forehead, one heavy and calming before resting his hands on Matt’s shoulders, toying with his hair. Adam wraps it around his fingers, letting it fall around his fingers and hums pleased. “Always so pretty baby.” He whispers, shifting Matt to straddle his hips. Each movement is slow and well placed, like Adam’s trying to drink Matt in with all his garish patterned clothes and reddening face. “Y’want me to get ya undressed baby?” Adam’s words are slurring together, lust drunk and nervous as he gazes up at Matt like he’s something important; a championship title hung fingertips out of reach, an angel standing at his bedside. Matt nods slowly, grinds into Adam’s lap with a despertness that makes him moan. 

“Wann do good!” Matt complains again, impatiently. Adam’s fingers are toying with his shirt buttons, lips brushing against the tanned skin of his chest, stubble scuffing up the skin over his nipples as Adam takes one in his mouth, tongue tracing over the small bud. It makes Matt feel drunk, head spinning, heart racing. He grips at Adam’s hair, his shoulders, anything that Matt can dig his round nails into while Adam works. He feels like he’s going to float away. There’s a chill that hits Matt’s sweating skin when his shirt is dropped casually onto the floor beside Hangman's boots. 

“Doin’ so good baby girl-” It slips out on Adam’s exhale, rips swollen and pinked and Matt nearly keens, arching his back into Adam’s warm fingertips. He hears Adam giggling and stares down at him through barely open eyes. “Nobody’s called you that in a while hmm?” 

Matt doesn’t answer Adam’s question. Keeps his lips pressed perfectly together as Adam unbuttons his shorts and carefully rolls his hip. His weight is crushing Matt into the mattress and it’s the only thing in the world that matters; not the flurry of snow that brushes against Adam’s window or the fact that Matt lost the match. Again. Just Adams shoulders pressing against his hips as his lips press kisses against well-trimmed hair. His skin comes up in red fireworks and it feels like heaven. He’s doing good because Adam keeps glancing up at him, smiling at him against his skin and Matt feels a coil twist in his stomach. 

“Please?” He can barely manage the word; the letters come out a garbled groan as Adam strips his boxers off the rest of the way and kneels at Matt’s feet, still in his pajama bottoms. He’s looking at him, fingers working over a smudge of self tanner into his thigh. Matt whines and Adam laughs, large hands just holding his legs, massaging knots of self-doubt out of his muscles. 

“Are you blushing baby girl?” Adam asks through a small fit of laughter. He’s no longer on the bed. He stands by Matt’s face, untangling the strings and letting his pajama pants drop around his ankles. There’s no longer the glimmer of shame in his eyes that Matt distantly remembers whenever Adam would strip for him, he’d try to cover the scars on his hips with his hands or squirm away when Matt would try to sink his teeth into the fat of his hips. scars or the fat around his hips. Matt always thought Adam was beautiful; a perfectly mirrored statue of Aphrodite made out of heavy bones and marbled eyes that Matt could stare into and find something new every time. 

He presses his face into Adam’s crotch, letting the wetness soak through the black cotton of his boxers and onto his cheek. It’s dirty and makes Matt feel like a whore but it’s all worth it because Adam whines low in his chest and pets at Matt’s cheek. “Not blushing.” Matt mumbles, tongue brushing against Matt’s clothed dick. He knows he’s teasing but the way that Adam stumbles, rests his hand on Matt’s leg like he’s able to support him, makes him grin. “Physical activity makes me red.” 

Adam tugs his face away from suckling at the head of his cock through his boxes, takes his face in his hands and smiles down at him. “Ain’t done nothin yet baby girl.” Matt’s soft in his hands and it takes Adam no time at all to have him sitting up against the pillows, kissing him back as he drags his hand slowly across his cock, grinning when Matt moans into his mouth. 

“Whose fault is that?” Adam mumbles, hooking Matt’s leg around his hips, hand trailing against his hole. The sound Matt makes is enough for Adam’s ears to turn red. “Needy girl, y’doing so well baby. So good, I’m gonna reach over and get the stuff yeah?” Adam waits for Matt to nod before moving, slowly rummaging through the pocket of his suitcase.He tosses lube onto the bed, watching it bounce from the corner of his eyes. “Fuck.” 

“Wanna.” Matt replies, rolling onto his side to stare up at Adam, lip puckering out when he sees his eyebrows knitted together. “Wha’sup?” Matt crawls to lay his head on Adam’s lap, massaging his thumb across the pale blonde hair just above his dick. He watches Adam’s stomach tighten. 

“No condoms baby.” Adam whispers, voice wound tight as he stares down at Matt’s hand then up at Matt’s face. “You wanna continue? I’m clean….its uh been a while.” Lust makes his tongue loose and heavy in his tongue and by the quick nods and hyper whines that fall from Matt’s lips, it's been a while for him too. “Okay, shh now, shh. Go lay back down.” Matt nods again, pressed his lips just above Adam’s leaking cock against his stomach before crawling on wobbling arms and legs, back to where he was laying, half propped up against Adam’s pillows. 

With his tanned legs spread and cock leaking across his stomach, Matt looks like an angel, he always has in Adam’s eyes. For a moment, he just looks at him, eyes soft and filled with love as he crawls to sit between Matt’s legs. Adam strokes himself a few times, trying struggling to keep his eyes open. He wants to commit this moment to memory; Matt laid out and needy and his. He takes Matt’s tip in his mouth, tongue tracing over beads of pre-cum that leak down his throat and the world fades away. It’s just Adam and Matt. 

He sucks until Matt’s whining, legs draped loosely around Adam's shoulders and his cum is leaking over Adam’s chin. His dick lays neglected against his stomach, leaking and sore but it doesn’t matter. He’s making Matt feel good. He makes Matt know that he’s good. That he isn’t a failure because he’s the only one that turns Adam’s brain into a quiet mush. He slowly pulls off Matt, letting his mouth hang open. He shows Matt his mouth full of cum, and lets his throat flutter as he swallows it down. 

“Need you..” Matt gasps, tears bubbling over in his eyes. Adam crowds his space for a few moments, leaning on his elbows and pressing his hips into Matt’s. He brushes his lips across his cheeks, licking at his tears and it makes Matt smile, blissed out. “Why?” 

“Y’too pretty to cry. The prettiest girl I've ever seen.” Adam whispers, laying his head against Matt’s chest. He uncaps the bottle, squeezes lube around his fingers and drags them slowly across Matt’s hole until he feels like Matt is wet enough that he can slide one finger in. Matt’s back arches and the moan that slips past his lips is one that Adam’s only heard on porn. It’s enough to make his head spin as he lazily fingers Matt open, letting him slowly ride his fingers until he’s open and begging, spit running down from his open mouth. 

Adam’s careful to line himself up, forehead pressed against Matt’s. They’re staring into each other's eyes as Adam pushes through Matt’s tight ring and instantly feels his brain shatter as he bottoms out. Matt’s so warm around him that it almost feels like home. He could stay like this forever; inside Matt while he pants into his mouth and twitches around the end of his cock. Adam wants to stay like this forever but Matt starts thrusting backwards, groaning as he opens up around Adam. 

He knows that Matt’s not going to last long, he can feel him leaking over his abs, their cum mixing together on their stomachs as Adam shifts and thrusts tiredly into him. “So good- fuck Matty so fuckin good!” He groans, trying to keep pace with Matt’s eager thrusts as he tries to ride Adam while on his back. It’s a beautiful sight and Adam wants nothing more than to just stay here, but the coil is tightening in his stomach and the glorious pressure is starting to tingle in his back, rising through his hips. He stutters, moaning into Matt’s ear. “Close baby.” He gasps, angling his hips differently as he thrusts into Matt harder, chasing his own growing orgasm. Matt’s nodding, choking on his own pleasure as tears rolled down his face. 

“Daddy- hurts good- so good! Please! Please! Wanna be good! Please- ah!” Matt’s voice is high pitched and trembling, rocking out through his lips like Adam’s fucking it out of him. He’s so close and he takes Matt’s face in his hands, kissing him as the coil snaps and Adam feels himself fill Matt, his hips stutter and Matt’s face smooths out as Adam pumps into him, gasping and trembling against his cheek. 

Adam’s desperately slow to pull out of Matt, badly repressing the groan that punches out of him as Matt’s tightness slides away and his own cum leaks out of Matt. “So pretty Matty. So good.” He gasps, leaning down to kiss Matt. He feels Matt’s dick leaking neglected and sore against his stomach and Adam feels guilty for not making him cum.

He pulls Matt closer, letting him lay on his arm and snuggle into his side as Adam strokes him slowly, fingers rolling and smeering pre-cum across Matt’s swollen head. “Cmon baby girl, cum-” He has to remind himself to breathe, Matt copies his heavy intake of air and grins stupidly when they release it together. “Cum for daddy.” Adam keeps the same lazy pace as Matt spills, warm and gorgeous, across his knuckles. 

“See how important you are baby?” Adam whispers after they’ve cleaned up and Matt’s fixed his hair. He’s dressed in Adam’s shirt and a spare pair of boxers that are a size too big for him. “You always have been important, y'know that right?” Matt nods against his chest, nose pressing into his chest. Tiredness has washed away any desire of around two. 

As the Canadian weather plunges, Matt curls closer to Adam and smiles, finally feeling weightless. He may keep losing but he won something that night. He won Adam’s heart back. And that’s better than any championship title. Adam watches his phone flash up, shifts to look at it and Matt whines at the movement. “What is it?” He whispers, tucking his head deeper into Adam’s neck, lips brushing against his pulsepoint. “Can’t it wait till the morning?” 

Adam sighs, sinking back against the pillows as Matt straddles his hips again. “Yeah, I don’t wanna talk about it tonight.” He leans up, lets Matt kiss him messily, sleep making his movements sloppy. “It can wait till the morning.”

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