#he is so adamant in his denial what gods exist

[maegalkarven]

Rise of the Ranger: Elves!!!! 💫A race of mighty graceful immortals!

Me: meh

Empire of Dirt: Actually elves were created by evil human king and soon to be god in his quest for immortality. He considered their creation a failure since he planned to make HIMSELF immortal

Me: 👀 Tell me more

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Eternal Punishment au

this is the au I talked about in an ask a while ago, get ready this part is pretty long

Adam groaned as he finally woke up. He didn't know how long he was out, but it didn't matter, looks like angelic steel isn't so tough after all. He looked around and saw that he was nowhere near the stupid bitch's little hotel but instead, he was in some dingy alleyway.

Adam: 'Probably a good thing, none of those cunts will see me and stab me again'

Adam thought as he wobblily got up on his legs only to immediately fall back down when he looked down at his body. Adam stared down in shock at his bare body, not a single scrape of clothing on him. However, that was not what had him completely petrified to his core. No, it was the sight of two huge breasts, wide hips, and the worst yet where once his most proud feature dangled in between his legs now lay a hairy quim.

His breathing picked up and he tried to scramble backward to try and get away from this, this, this...female body but no matter how hard he tried it was following him like flies to death. He closed his eyes hard and opened them. Hoping that at some point, it would all be a dream and he'd be back up in his home in Heaven safely tucked in his bed. He was so concentrated on waking from this nightmare that he didn't notice the sound of wings flapping or the sound of feet landing on the pavement.

Lucifer: Well, well, well what do we have here?

Slowly Adam raised his shaking head to see the King of Hell himself standing right in front of him. He yelped involuntarily scrambling backwards. Lucifer didn't react

Lucifer: Have to say, this new style of yours really suits you

He said as his eyes traveled up and down his enemy's body in a sinful way.

Adam: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING?!?!?!

Adam immediately put both hands to his mouth in shock, his once deep, gruff voice was now replaced by a feminine-sounding voice with a slightly deep pitch. Lucifer, like the ass he is, laughed at Adam.

Lucifer: Oh ho, ho, ho, ho this, this is simply the greatest thing to have happen in Hell's existence

Adam: YOU!

Lucifer: yes me!

Adam: YOU DID THIS TO ME DIDN'T YOU?! YOU CAST SOME SORT OF WITCHCRAFT ON ME AND NOW I'M LIKE THIS!!!! WELL JUST WAIT TILL SERA AND ALL OF HEAVEN HEAR OF WHAT YOU DID NOT ONLY TO ME BUT TO THEIR ENTIRE ARMY AS WELL!!!!!!!

Lucifer: HA! I WISH I did this but no this wasn't me, according to the ancient rules of Hell this is simply your punishment as a sinner

Adam: ...what? No, no you are LYING! I haven't fallen! I'm no sinner! I'm an angel! a warrior of God himself sent down to smite the cruel and the wicked! Not to mention I am the first man, THE. FUCKING. MAN! Why would HE of everyone in the universe turn me into...WELL THIS!?!?!?!?

Lucifer: hmm, maybe because you were what many would call a misogynistic pig who only thought with his dick?

Adam: Wait why am I even TALKING to you I'll just go back to the agency, and they'll have this thing all sorted out!

Lucifer: (sighs) Fine, maybe this will help get it through your head.

with a snap of his fingers, the two were inside the embassy Adam ran around calling and screaming for anyone

Adam: SERA!? EMILY!? ANYONE UP THERE WHO CAN HEAR ME

Right at that moment a sort of ding was heard and Adam raced towards the desk, a rolled-up glowing scroll floated in the air. Adam snatched it, unrolled it, and began reading

'Adam, first man, and father of humanity, though, fortunately, you have lived through the battle where you were proclaimed permanently dead. However, through your actions over the centuries, it is now clear that you are no longer divine, nor should be. We hope you will understand that we did what was necessary for Heaven's protection, may you find some form of light down in the pit of darkness'

Adam's hand, which was holding the letter, dropped to his side in shock. He shook his head in denial, no, no, he...he did what they wanted him to do, he did all that they asked of him and more! He was loyal to Lilith, then Eve, he fathered the first generation of humanity, he prayed to the angels each and every night when he was alive, and when he ascended to Heaven, he still did all that they asked of him and more. He led their army, and he trained and looked after those soldiers as if they were his own Ok so maybe he fucked up once, or twice, he wasn't perfect NOBODY WAS!!!

As Adam slowly began setting into the reality of the situation, Lucifer came up behind the distraught fallen angel and placed a hand on Adam's lower back. A little too low for the former first man's taste

Lucifer: Oh, now don't be too sad dear, from the road you were on, it was simply bound to happen eventually.

Adam: I don't need you mocking me you clown!

Lucifer: What? No! I would never in a serious time like this, plus not when I was about to give you a gift.

Adam: ...what?

Lucifer: You see Miss you being a woman now leaves you vulnerable. You are a fallen angel with no holy powers leaves you completely defenseless. The fact that you are in Hell as well as completely naked with creatures outside ready to take you as you are, doesn't exactly help your case, does it?

Adam: What are you trying to say? Do you want to make a deal with me? Be your little slave for your protection huh is that it?!

Lucifer simply gave him a smile

Lucifer: A slave? No, no, no, no, no, no You've got it all wrong! I don't want you to be my slave, well not in the way that your thinking at least. I want you to be my new wife

Adam's mind went completely blank after he heard the word wife. He was stunned into silence as Lucifer continued on

Lucifer: See after my, former wife's, departure I've been desperately lonely, I've been wanting a companion for a while now. A wife to come home to after a long hard day, someone to comfort me, to be by my side through and through. Not to mention certain...activities that I have missed doing. I know this is YOU of all people but come on we've known each other since the very beginning of time itself! Plus, your certainly easy on the eyes

Lucifer said lustfully as he bit his lip. Taking in a good long look at Adam's new...assets.

Lucifer: Also, if you marry me, I will make all your dreams come true, you will want for nothing, every need, want, luxury you could ever wish for right at the snap (snaps his fingers) of a hand, my hand of course, I as your husband, would also make sure you would see Heaven each and every night! So, my dear what do you say?

Adam: ...what do I say? What do I say?! WHAT DO I FUCKING SAY!?! NEWS FLASH KING OF CLOWNS! I MAY HAVE A PUSSY RIGHT NOW BUT I AM A MAN, THE MAN! I SAY TAKE YOUR LITTLE GAY DEAL AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!!

With a defiant glare in Adam's eyes, he bends down a bit, inhales a bit, and then spits at the king, landing right on Lucifer's cheek. He raised a hand, wiped the saliva off his face, and raised an eyebrow as he stared at it.

Complete silence filled the entire embassy as the atmosphere grew thick around the first man and the devil. Suddenly a dark rumble sounded from Lucifer.

Lucifer: Ok then, I figured that your response would be a no at first. I actually thought that a few days out there in the streets would help prove my point and have you run straight into my arms. However, I must rectify this behavior of yours. for no one, no one, in this entire landscape makes a fool out of me, especially not my own bride.

Before Adam could do anything, Lucifer grabbed his arm, pulled him forward, and put him over his shoulder like a sack of flour

Do you like it so far? :)

OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE IT!!!

Adam: Wha- HEY! PUT ME DOWN!!

Lucifer just hummed as he walked through a portal back to Morningstar Manor, even though Adam could learn a lesson on the streets, he didn't want anyone to defile his bride.

The mere thought made him sick.

Lucifer walked into his, now their bedroom and flopped Adam down on the bed.

Adam: Oof!

Lucifer: You've been a very naughty girl.~

Adam rolled his eyes, Lucifer might be better than some random person on the street but that didn't mean he wanted the Devil to molest him.

He was suddenly very aware of how naked he was. Adam flushed pink and crossed his legs and crossed his arms to try and cover his new womanly body.

[indigovigilance]

The Erasure of Human!Metatron

The elephant in the room is that Neil has [purportedly] denied the existence of a human Metatron. But I, for one, think an elephant really ties the room together. So let's get started.

First, I will address Neil Gaiman’s apparent denial of the Human!Metatron storyline (below the cut):

Caption: The Metatron in Good Omens wasn't ever human.

Which would seem to put the debate to bed.

Except.

Caption: That’s not really his father. It is. It is now, and it always was.

By Adam renouncing Satan as his father, we have in-story canon evidence that the past can be retroactively changed. So a storyline past can be divergent from an in-world past which has been modified. But only to a degree, because Aziraphale and Crowley clearly remember that Adam ~was~ Satan’s son, and Adam still retains some residual powers. Like pencil marks on paper, the past can be erased, but the shadow of its former self will always be there. But if that's not enough for you, there's also...

Lucifer!Satan

Neil Gaiman has also been pretty consistent with this characterization about the non-existence of the past in other characters, for example Lucifer!Satan:

Basically (not to be rude), if you think that these statements can be taken to mean that we will definitely not get a story about Enoch aka Human!Metatron in S3, you have fundamentally misunderstood how time, history, and identity work in Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens universe.

So what Neil said about Metatron never being human… can we just collectively set that aside for a moment?

Caption: Work with me, I’m extrapolating here. Yes? Good. Read the rest of the meta.

Evidence of Human!Metatron

Now that we have established that a former, no-longer-existing version of Metatron could have been human, let’s examine the in-world evidence. The best direct evidence is:

Caption: I’ve ingested things in my time, you know.

This is weirdly important in the Book of Enoch. Food is mentioned in the Book of Enoch at least fourteen times, and consistently it is associated with being human, and having earthly desires, and subsequently with sin, whereas the angels are described as not needing to eat food but instead being nourished by faith alone. Enoch!Metatron’s own relationship with food is also explicitly elucidated:

Enoch answered to his son Mathosalam (and) said: Hear, child, from the time when the Lord anointed me with the ointment of his glory, (there has been no) food in me, and my soul remembers not earthly enjoyment, neither do I want anything earthly.

I propose that "in my time" is a direct reference to Metatron's prior existence as a human, and the fact that this time is over serves to underscore his current inhumanity, making him all the more sinister.

Other Evidence Pointing to Book of Enoch

This next bit is somewhat dubious evidence, but the entire reason I wound up investigating this is that I was actually investigating Baraqiel:

…and for the God-fearing life of me, I cannot find any reference to Baraqiel except in the Book of Enoch. So this is a pretty big ✨Clue✨ to just leave hanging out there if it’s not supposed to lead us to this text.

The Scottish Mason

Okay guys, this the part where it all comes unhinged, but I promise the payoff is worth it.

The Book of Enoch was recovered from Ethiopia in 1773 by a Scottish explorer named James Bruce, who also happened to be a Mason. In 1774, upon his return, he was made a Fellow of The Royal Society of Edinburgh. And if this quote doesn’t get you, I don’t know what will:

Amazingly, Bruce brings back not just one copy, nor two, but three! Three copies of this text, which was previously thought to have been lost to the West forever. This inevitably led to all kinds of accusations as to where he had come by them, and more importantly how? Add to this that Bruce was a Mason in one of the most influential lodges, a Bruce descendant, and an imposing physical figure and 6 feet 4 inches tall, with dark red hair and an irascible temper, it is no wonder that so much excitement and mystery surrounded the man. [source]

So, you know, this guy:

In summary:

There are reasons that we should be looking to the Book of Enoch, and the story surrounding its reintroduction to the Western world, as source evidence for Good Omens S3.

If you enjoyed this, you may also like my meta on Baraqiel and Azazel, which draws upon the Book of Enoch.

My original (in retrospect, kind of terrible) Metatron meta is here.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

you’ll lose your faith for a bit and question if she's you (b.r.b.)

a/n: i’ve been working on this for nearly a year. this is my first pride month fully confident and (mostly) open about my bisexuality. i think sometimes it gets taken for granted, knowing/being allowed to explore your sexuality at a young age. therefore, i wanted to write something i saw a little more me in. happy pride month. you’re loved and valid, no matter what label you choose for yourself. 

summary: Rebel has a life-changing realization.

title comes from “you might not like her” by maddie zahm

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse 

warnings: denial of sexuality, internalized biphobia, mentions of past icemav, MavDad, mentions of DADT, alcohol mentions, swearing,

word count: 4.2k

"She’s so pretty.”

Hangman shifts, turning to look at you. “I agree.”

“I mean, really, she’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s pretty?” Coyote leans over, looking at the phone. 

“Hailee Steinfeld.” You respond. 

“Second that. Why’re you looking at pictures of her?” 

“I think she was in the movie we watched last night.” Hangman responds, nodding down to his phone, looking through her IMDb.

“Oh, what movie? I’ve probably seen it, I love her.” You ask. 

“That Bumblebee movie. I don’t know, Hangman picked it.” Coyote responds, throwing his hands up in the air. 

You made a face. “God, that’s one of her worst films. Didn’t Dylan O’Brien voice Bumblebee? I can’t remember. Anyways, why would you pick that? She’s in so many better movies. Like the Pitch Perfect franchise does exist. Movie full of pretty women if I’ve ever seen it.”

Hangman turned in his chair fully, face full of confusion. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“You keep-ow.” Hangman turned, glaring at his boyfriend. Your eyes flitted between the blonde and your best friend, who had just pinched his boyfriend and was shooting him a look through narrowed eyes. 

“Okay.” You say, laughing nervously. “Moving on. I’m hungry, so... food?” 

-

“Javy, I think your best friend is gay.”

“No shit.” His eyebrow raised in question as his boyfriend shifted to sit up against the headboard. 

“Really? Did I miss the memo?” 

Javy sighs, reaching up to run a hand over his face. “No. I don’t think she knows and it’s not really my place to speculate on her sexuality.” 

Jake watched the rise and fall of his boyfriends bare chest, admiring the glint of the dog tags in the moonlight. “But?”

“But there’s a really good chance she’s bi.” 

“She ever say anything to you over the years?”

He shakes his head, shifting to look at Hangman in the eye. “No, but she’s said all this stuff, like she did this morning, over the years that has just... made me wonder. And she tries so hard to be an ally that sometimes I think she’s compensating for something.” Hangman reaches a hand out to his boyfriend, intertwining their fingers. “I tried once, about a month after we came out to the team. She was super defensive, adamant she was straight, and got pretty panicked so I dropped it. Haven’t brought it up since.” Jake catches his bottom teeth in his lips as he let out a sigh. 

“So basically she’s so far in the closet she can’t even see it?” Javy shrugs. 

“Maybe. Like I said, not my place to speculate. She’ll figure out or she won’t. That’s up to her.” 

“Yeah, but don’t you think she’d be happier? If she knew that about herself?” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why are you so interested in my best friend’s sexuality all of the sudden?” 

He sighs, letting his boyfriends hand drop as he moves to place his back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Because. I remember what it was like to be so far in the closet the mere suggestion of being anything but straight made me want to run for the hills. Made me want shove anyone who suggested it off my plane over an ocean.” He tilts his head, looking to his boyfriend. “I also know that when I stopped hiding from who I was, stopped being scared, I was a lot happier. Felt a lot freer.” He swallows, reaching out to pick off a piece of lint from his sweatpants. “I also know she carries a lot of weight.” 

“I just don’t know what she’s running from. If she is, I mean. Maverick would love and support her, so would Rooster. We would obviously and she doesn’t have a thing to worry about with the rest of the team.” 

“Maybe she thinks Rooster will break-up with her. Kind of a life-changing realization, you know?” 

“Rooster’s down bad for her, he ain’t going anywhere.”

“Not if she’s not into men.” 

Javy moves, pushing himself off the headboard. 

“You really think that?” The words are sharp, a little bit defensive, and Jake winces. “You, what, think she just stays with him because she loves him but that’s not enough?” 

“No, Javy-”

“Then what, Jake? Think she’s got some internalized biphobia she’s projecting on to herself? This is my best friend you’re talking about.” 

“Maybe she is Javy.” Jake whispers and Javy roll his eyes, reaching over to grab a pillow. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks as Coyote moves off the bed and towards the door. 

“Sleeping on the couch. Don’t wanna hear this about her.” 

“Javy, c’mon, come back. We don’t need to fight about this.” Javy spins on his heel. 

“You drop it. Doesn’t matter whether she is or isn’t. Isn’t either of our places to discuss this or bring it up to her.” 

Jake sighs. “I just think that maybe she’d be happier.” 

“Regardless if she is or isn’t, she needs to figure that out on her own.” Coyote says firmly, but he’s already inching back towards the bed as Jake watches him carefully. 

He throws his hands up into the air in surrender. “Fine, I’ll drop it. Please just come back to bed.” Javy nods, already climbing back onto the mattress, bouncing softly in Hangman’s awaiting arms.

-

You’re standing at the bar, talking to Penny amidst the loud chatter of the Hard Deck when Hangman slips an arm around you. He bends closer to your ear, words hushed. 

“Hey, can I talk to you outside?” You nod, picking your beer up from the counter and waving to Penny as she moves farther down to serve other customers. You follow Hangman, weaving your way through the crowd, and once outside, you’re quick to slip off your shoes as you reach the sand. He nods his head to further down the beach. “Wanna go sit?”

“Sure.” You say, taking a sip of your beer. You follow him to a good distance away from the Hard Deck and follow his lead, settling into the sand. He sighs, setting his beer on the sand and bringing his arms to rest on his knees. 

“Listen, um, we gotta talk about something.” You swallow, setting your drink down as well. 

“Okay.” 

He sighs, rubbing his hands together. “Before I came out, before I met Javy, I was... I was very in denial about who I was. Kept thinking something was wrong with me and kept screwing all these girls just to prove I was straight. I don’t know who I was trying to prove it to, myself maybe. And that shit... it was lonely. It was a heavy burden to carry. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.” 

You watch him carefully. Contrary to popular belief, you and Hangman were actually quite close. He’d never be Coyote but he knew when to keep it real with you and you appreciated the realness of your friendship more than anything. 

Weird how things changed. 

“How’d you know?” You hear yourself asking. You aren’t sure why. You’re straight. 

“I don’t know, I guess when I met Javy I had this oh moment. Everything about me sort of made sense. I was still a few years out from learning to deal with it but something clicked.” 

You bit your bottom lip, turning his words over in his head. You still weren’t sure why the two of you were having this conversation. “Where you going with this Hangman?”

“Do you ever feel that way? Like you have to prove something to yourself or that you’re carrying a heavy burden? Waiting for an oh moment?” You give a half-shrug, mouth gaping open. He sighs again, sitting back to rest on his palms. His gaze moves from you to the full moon on the horizon. “Are you gay?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. You don’t respond, simply looking at him with wide eyes. He finally drags his gaze backs to you but holds firm, unwilling to back down. Finally, you force yourself to start breathing again, coughing nervously. You shake your head, looking down at the sand. “N-no, I’m not Seresin.” 

“It’d be okay, if you were.” 

“Yes, I’m very aware that it would be. But I’m not.” He tilts his head in acknowledgement and begins to stand up from the sand. All you can do is watch him. 

“Okay, well, I mean, it just wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you were into girls.” 

“I’m straight Seresin.” 

You were... weren’t you?

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” He picks his beer up from the sand, turning on his heel to head back towards the bar. You sit there bewildered, turning his words over in your head. 

Still, there was some part of you that felt unsettled. Like Jake had prodded at something dormant just enough to wake it up.

-

You sat on your bed, trying to remember what you were doing. You groaned, running a hand over your face. A soft knock sounded at your door and you looked up to see Rooster leaning against the open door. His smile was soft but you’d known him long enough to see the concern in his eyes. 

“Hey.” You whisper softly. 

Ever since your conversation with Hangman, one that hadn’t really been a conversation at all, things in your world felt off-kilter. You felt like you were waiting for the band to snap, like for the realization to come, the thing that would change everything as you knew it. You’d been sick to your stomach most days, unable to sleep. 

Admittedly, you had always wondered. Maybe a little bit more so after Javy had come out. But there was never enough to prove to yourself that you were that you had always brushed the thought off, burying it deep down. And now it was resurfacing in waves, questions and fears drowning you. 

You weren’t... You were straight. You were sure of it.

...Right?

“-you listening?” You shake your head, eyes flickering back up to your boyfriend. His smile was still there but you could tell it was more forced than anything. 

“Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a minute.” You say, waving a hand. “What were you saying?” 

He sighs, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Coyote told me you bailed. Third time this week. He’s worried.” 

You shrug. “Just needed some time to myself.” He nods slowly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you. 

You wouldn't believe you either. 

“Hey, are you okay? You haven’t really been yourself lately.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you hear your Dad’s footsteps in the hallway. He appears just a few moments later over Rooster’s shoulder and he shifts to allow him room to lean up against the other side of the doorway. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come out to the hangar tomorrow? For the long weekend?” You nod, even though it’s the last thing you want to do with how messy your brain has been lately. 

“Sure.” You look to your boyfriend. “Want to come with us?” Your Dad sighs, straightening up, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Actually, I was thinking it could be just us kiddo.” 

“Oh.” You say, frowning slightly. “Am I in trouble?” He shakes his head. 

“No. Hey, you okay? You got anything you want to talk about?” 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

Just like how you’re straight?

You brush the thought off, moving to stand up from the bed. “I beg to differ.” Rooster mutters and you shoot him a glare. 

“I’m fine. Now I’m tired so if the two of you would kindly-” You motion for them to shoo and they both sigh, exchanging a glance. 

“Its like... 7 PM.” Your Dad says, glancing at his watch. 

“Well- I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed early.” 

Exhausted of running from who you are?

Rooster gives you a wary look before conceding, moving a few feet to give you a kiss. It’s short and feels forced and sends a wave of cold over you. He grimaces as he pulls away and doesn’t say anything as he steps back, slipping past your Dad. Your Dad sighs, stepping back and closing your bedroom door behind him. You sit back down on your bed, trying to swallow the tears.

-

You watch as your Dad swings his leg over his chair, settling back with his coffee in one hand and the paper in the other. 

Who still reads the paper?

Who denies their sexuality?

You swallow, looking up at your Dad. The two of you were meant to drive back tonight and if you wanted to have this conversation, your window was quickly closing. 

“Hey Dad?” He hums, not looking up from his paper. “Did you ever... Were you ever...” 

“Spit the question out kiddo.” He says with a chuckle, eyes still skimming over the paper. 

You take a deep breath, trying to steel yourself to ask what is a mildly inappropriate question. 

Still, you’d always looked to your Dad for guidance and if anybody would have some to offer you right now, it’d be him.

“Were you ever with a man?” 

He grunts. “Where is this going?” 

“Humor me, please?” 

“Does this have to do with why you haven’t been acting like yourself lately?” 

“Yeah.” 

He sighs. “Yeah, I was, but-”

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. My real question is- Well, how did you know? that you were like... interested.” 

He tilts his head as he finally meets your gaze. “My story is a bit more like Jake’s. For so long, I hid any part of me that thought I might feel that way and then-” His face raises in a smile, clearly thinking back to some happier memory. “Then I met someone who changed all that. Everything just felt right with him and suddenly that part of myself I tried to keep hidden from myself and the world clicked into place. It stopped feeling like something was missing.” 

A silence falls between the two of you a you turn the words over in your head and he turns back to his paper. 

“Were you and Ice ever...” You wave your hand as he looks up at you, pausing mid-sip. “Together?” He sighs, and carefully sets both of them on the table in front of him. He eyes you carefully from where your back is pressed up the feet of the other chair, making a home on the rug placed in the hangar. 

“Yeah, we were.” 

“Oh.” You hear yourself saying, ears ringing with finally getting the truth after years. 

“That’s it?” 

You shrug. “Well, I mean I always suspected but I don’t know-” He nods, still looking at you ever intently as you begin to pick at the rug. 

“Yeah, we got together after that photo of us was taken. You know the one.”

You did.

“Anyways, we were together for a few years, but- it was hard. Especially with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’ve loved your godfather, and I did until the day he died. But it was hard, being in the Navy, dealing with Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, and we both agreed it was better to love each other and still be friends than go down in ruins. Was going to tell you but you got older and closer with Ice and it just- never came up.” 

You swallow, nodding. “Cool.” 

“Is everything okay?” You sit there for a moment, turning everything over in your head. You knew, but you were so scared. It was like two sides of you were warring, what you knew desperately fighting with what you feared. “Hey, talk to me kiddo. What’s going on?” 

You continued to sit there, tears beginning to form. Finally, you found the courage to say the words that were right there-

“Dad, I think I’m bi.” 

The words are no more than a whisper but he hears them all the same. He didn’t say anything, just continued to observe you. A few more tears begin to slip down your face, and then a few more, and then more, and soon you were struggling to wipe them all away as your Dad stood up from his seat to sit on the floor with you. He’s quick to wrap you in a hug, a kiss being placed to the top of your head. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” 

You shake your head, swallowing. “It’s not.” You whisper. He holds you close, tucking your head into his shoulder. “How can it be okay? I’m in my fucking 30′s, in a long-term committed relationship with the person I want to marry, and I figure out I’m into women. It changes everything.” 

“It doesn’t have to.” He whispers. 

“How could it not?” Your voice is thick, the tears still bubbling out of you. “He’s gonna hate me, like I lied or-”

“Hey.” He says firmly, adjusting you to be able to look you in the eye while still holding on you. “Give Brad a little more credit than that, please. He’s loved every part of you since you were kids and through all your years apart. He’s going to love this part of you too.” 

“I’m bisexual.” You whisper, the words prompting a new round of tears. “It feels really good to say that.” 

Your Dad pulls you back to his chest, squeezing you tight. “I’m glad you’ve finally found yoruself.”

-

You glance up from your phone, the text from Bradley sitting on your phone like it’s taunting you. 

Text me when you get home please.

I love you.

“This isn’t our house.”

Your Dad turns the ignition off. “Nope.” 

You blink, turning to your Dad. “Are you really making me have this conversation with him now?” 

He shrugs. “You can tell Brad whatever you want, but I figured you'd probably want to see him.” 

You sigh, sliding your seatbelt off. As always, your Dad was right. 

You did want to see Bradley. You longed for a hug and for him to tell you that everything would be alright, that he’d still love you just like he always had. 

“And kid?” 

You pause, looking up at him as you climb out of the car. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m really proud of you.” 

You swallow. 

“Thanks Dad.”

You climb out out the car, giving your Dad a wave as he drives off you. You sigh, pulling out your keys and thumbing through until you find the one that you had had since you were eleven years old, the key you’d never let go of, even in the years you didn’t speak to the person who inhabited this home. 

You blink tears away at the thought it may one day become your home. That tonight could mean it would never be your home. 

“Bradley?” You call out, toeing your shoes off by the entryway, straining for the sounds of him. 

“In the kitchen, honey.” He calls back and you can hear him moving around. You enter the kitchen, hovering by the door. 

Bradley’s cooking, sitting something on the stove, a towel slung on his shoulder as he tastes the sauce. He perks up at the sight of you, smiling. “Hey honey.”

“Hi. Sorry for dropping by unannounced.” 

He shakes his head, holding a hand out for you. “You’re never a bother. Come try the sauce. Tash sent me the recipe for her grandmother’s and I’ve been tweaking it to perfection.” 

He holds out the spoon for you to take but all you can do is stare. 

“We need to talk.” 

Bradley swallows, pulling back slowly. “Okay...” He trails off, leaning over to turn the stove off. “Do you want talk about it over dinner?”

You shake your head, glancing at the food. It looks and smells incredible, but you feel like throwing up, feeling the truth claw it’s way out of your throat on it’s own. 

“Now please?” You say, voice cracking. 

He nods. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

He looks so earnest and honest in his words, so sure that whatever you have to say to him couldn’t change how he feels about you, that you start to believe it too. 

You feel the tears stinging at your eyes as Bradley waits patiently. 

“I’m not- I don’t mean to spring this on you or- or- I don’t want you to think I’ve lied about this or intentionally hid it from you-”

He grabs your hand, squeezing it before running his thumb over your knuckles. “Honey, you’re okay.” He whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

You take a shuddering breath, leaning into his smell and the way he feels like home. 

“Bradley, I’m- I’m bisexual.” You whisper. 

It feels as though all sound is cut off as you watch him intently, not sure if seconds or hours ar epassing, anxiously waiting for him to tell you that he just couldn’t be with someone like that. 

Rationally, you knew he’d never do that to you. You hoped he’d still love you just as you are, even with this new discovery of yours. 

“If you wanna break up with me, I’d understand.” 

Bradley’s face falls and he pulls you into a hug. “Oh, honey, no.” 

You wrap your arms around him, desperate to find some sort of comfort. 

“Honey, this would never, ever change how I feel about you or what we have. How could it? This is just one more part of you that I get to love and I’m so glad it’s something you were able to discover about yourself. I’m so happy you felt like you could share it with me.” 

You swallow, tears still brimming in your eyes as you pull back to look him in the eye. 

This time though, it wasn’t from fear but from the feeling sitting in you at the way he looked at you. 

He gives you a soft smile, one of his hands reaching up to move some of your hair. “Besides, I’ve always had a suspicion.” 

You raise an eyebrow, letting out a choked laugh. “You did? How?” 

“Do you remember your friend Lexi from high school? Yeah, no one was ever really sure you two were just friends.” 

“What?” You question. “I wasn’t into her like that.” 

“Well, now I know that, but back then...” He shrugs, leaning up against the countertop. “I don’t know, Sli used to have this theory you were just dating Ben as a cover.” 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, reaching up to brush some of the tears away with a shake of your head. 

Bradley smiles softly, knowing there's no real heat behind your statement. Your Uncle Slider had always been able to see things in a way no one else could, reading past the lies and bullshit. 

Maybe the years of putting up with Mav and Ice had taught him how. 

“Do you feel better?”

You nod, leaning into his touch. “Feels like a weight has been lifted, I guess. Like everything makes sense.”

He ducks to press a kiss to your cheek. “Good. That’s how it should be.” He turns back to the stove, retrieving his spoon. “Will you try the sauce now?” 

You quirk an eyebrow, letting out a watery chuckle. “I have to admit I was expecting us to have a longer discussion about this.” You say, although you take the spoon anyways. 

He shrugs as he places the spoon in the sink after you nod, giving him your approval. “It doesn’t have to be. It can just be as simple as that if you want it to be.” He pauses, facing you. “Why? Do you want us to have a longer conversation about it?” 

You give a half-shrug, sighing. “Not- not really? It doesn’t change anything for me, I still love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you still want that, of course.” 

He sighs, reaching out for you again. “I want to be here however long you want me here. You trusted me with something deeply personal and that means so much to me. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.” 

You take his, intertwining your fingers with his. “I know.” You whisper. 

He smiles. “Good.” He turns back to the stove. “Now, let’s get some food in you. Can’t imagine Mav cooked anything halfway decent this weekend.” 

You laugh, reaching for the bowls out of the cabinet so Bradley can scoop the pasta up into the ceramic dishes. He tells you about his weekend as the two of you settle in the couch, close to one another. Bradley’s body heat isn’t the only reason feel warmth, the love you feel brining a certain type of peace you rarely experienced. 

Later, after the two of you have had a couple of glasses of wine and are on your second helping of food, you remember your conversation with your Dad earlier in the day. 

You pause in your bite, fork halfway to your mouth. “By the way, I learned something today about Dad.” 

“Hm?” He prompts, shoving a bite of pasta in his mouth. 

“He and Ice hooked up in ‘86.” 

Bradley chokes. 

[gothearts]

What's Sera and Adam's relationship like in Heaven? How does it change after he falls?

Post fall is sort of complicated to answer right now given how little I've put out of my au, so you're not going to get the FULL context until I finish putting out all of the characters. I'll do my best to give an abridged explanation ahdshdkjshdskjshskjh Sera was fond of Adam. It's not too far off from canon where she's weary of his behavior, but it's more in the direction of her worrying for just how spiteful he can be, trying to constantly reel him back in and dismiss the negativity. She knows what happens when someone is no longer deemed useful to heaven. She's been through it three times now. He lets the truth of the extermination slip, and she knows that she can no longer save him. He's now become a liability. At that point she would withdraw and refocus her efforts on Emily, as detached as it may seem. She can't dwell for her own well being and ability to uphold her roll in maintaining order. She doesn't know he's in hell. She thinks he's dead. As far as she knows, only angels can fall. Winners have never been slain and Sinners who had previously been reset are reincarnated just to lead the same sinful lives, leading to the notion that a soul cannot be changed, bringing forth the extermination. (There were no attempts to rehabilitate these souls prior, just a reset that still bore scars on the soul from past lives. Like reincarnation.) Adam is gone and Adam has failed, meaning that from what she knows, she'll never see him again. That's what she would respond with whenever Emily would bring it up, using him as a cautionary tale to keep Emily from questioning the will of heaven further. It does tear her up inside. That's four losses now. But she knows that if she cracks and shows the pain she's experiencing, she could be deemed unfit to uphold her role, being cast out too. Seraphiel from the book of Enoch, who she represents in my au, is a seraphim dedicated to the care of those below him. Therefore, so is Sera. She loved Adam as if he were hers, because that's how she views all of God's creation. It's her job to guide and nurture, The loss of Adam likely is the last blow to steel her heart, causing her to have no tolerance for Emily's dreams, deeming it necessary to guide her. It also results in cracking down further on Charlie, doing all she knows how to in order to keep her own people safe. As for Adam, the first betrayal comes when he calls for backup and nobody answers, leading to his demise aka fall. He's in denial at first that Sera hasn't came to save him. He likely has one of those "she's coming, you'll see!" moments that lead to him slowly wearing down as days turn to weeks until he has to accept that he's stuck here and what happened was not a mistake on heaven's behalf. They left him to die. It's a harsh realization that the kingdom you dedicated the last several millennia of your existence to does not hold unconditional love for you, and by extension, neither does Sera despite her intentions. As much as he loved Sera, being at the hotel and experiencing life without the constant pressure of someone expecting you to repress your misplaced anger instead of helping you through it as a true nurturer should, causes him to stop yearning for his own redemption. He's finding it here. Ironically in Hell. Angels only know how to repress because exploration is what lead to Lucifer's own downfall, and every being in heaven lives by that. But here, he gets to work through all the turmoil he's been caused and has caused. And the more he looks back on life on heaven with her, the more he realizes how miserable it was. The memories become bittersweet. The only thing their relationship ends up amounting to, is being the catalyst for him to rise above the future she unintentionally helped push him to succumb to. He can change and finally learn to let go. They will meet again, but that's writing for the future as i'm still fleshing out the first act, and this is like... third act stuff.

[jubileemon]

Original Man Adam Theory

It's possible that Adam went to Heaven not because he was a virtuous person who abstained from sinning but because of lack of temptation. If we go through the list of deadly sins and biblical account of what happened after The Fall, he couldn't commit any of them. Pride? Of what? He got cowed by God very hard. Greed? Gluttony? Sloth? He is forced to toil away every day for basic sustenance, there is no wealth to hoard, not enough food to gorge on, and if he is lazy, he'll starve to death.

Lust? There is only one woman he can lust over and that woman is Eve. We call that faithfulness in marriage. Wrath? Envy? Again, against whom? The first victim of those is Abel. He does commit every single one of them after death, though.

Rather fittingly, Adam has been shown to possess several of the Seven Deadly Sins from Charlie's time speaking to him. He pridefully boasts about how superior he is at things to people, lustfully talks about how he convinced another angel to sleep with him, mentions that he got annoyed over said angel wanting another one of his band members instead of him (implying he was envious he wasn't her first pick), got angry over one angel getting killed compared to the thousands of demons he kills every year and gluttonously wolfs down a pack of ribs while meeting with Charlie, is the one angel greedily wearing mostly gold clothes (and actually has golden horns as ornaments in his fashion getup), and is too lazy to make an appearance in person, instead using a hologram since he couldn't be bothered to actually talk to the princess of Hell and hear what she has to say. And, again, rather fittingly, because he's an angel, he doesn't see the irony in any of this.

What's even more ironic is Charlie is shown to possess all of the Seven Virtues despite being a demon and the daughter of Lucifer. Again, Adam and Lute are both such petty jackasses that they don't see the irony in this.

In a way, Adam can be seen as a representation of corrupt religious figures: because he's on the side of good, it means he can't be wrong, that he can get away with anything, etc while preaching to others and looking down upon them for their faults, perceived or otherwise. Conversely, Emily represents the virtuous religious figures, being kind, understanding and open-minded to all she meets, yet is quick to condemn legitimate wrongdoing even when it comes from those she previously trusted/saw as good people, even agreeing with Charlie - the Princess of Hell - that Heaven's practices aren't as lofty as they preach.

Ironically enough, that seems to imply Lucifer bringing free will and the creation of hell was. In hindsight, a huge improvement for everybody involved despite appearances. Because evil exists and now people would not be inherently sent to heaven just for preaching loyalty now, people would be capable of understanding evil and choose not to indulge into it. By resisting sin or even learning from the failures, there's now the chance ascended mortals would have a chance of being actually good people who made the right choices even if the process is still far from perfect. Adam is essentially a pampered child coddled from evil, so now he believes anything he does is justified. Has anyone just simply gone straight to heaven without understanding evil, Heaven would be probably just as much of a bad place as hell currently is.

There's another heavenly mortal within heaven's files: St. Peter himself. Despite being Jesus' apostle, Peter was a victim of many evils in life and also made a fair share of mistakes, with his denial of Jesus being one of the most notable. He had to interact with sin and temptation for all his life and likely also making his share of blunders which he repented greatly. But rather than make him a horrible sinner those events actually made him a stronger, nicer, much more complete person. As such when he's a heaven's gate he's presented as a Nice Guy and very reasonable person unlike the sheltered Adam.

But while Adam says that he never made a mistake in his life, Peter double checks if there was a mistake with Charlie's appointment until he finds out she was correct , and then he proceeds. While it's not explicitly stated, this showcases that Peter is capable of admitting his mistakes. Recognizing a wrongdoing and repenting is a crucial part of salvation.

[another-corpo-rat]

for the alternate love interests... okay i have several to ask for victoria... hanako arasaka... arthur jenkins... bryce mosley... alt cunningham (also apparently i had my asks turned off lol... didn't even realize)

i have, once again to the surprise of no one, rambled like a mother fucker in response. i apologise 😔

Hanako Arasaka

In brief they wouldn't work - like at all, but you know i love over-explaining: I touched on this in the Michiko ask but: Victoria has no innate love or respect for the Arasaka family. Though she'll certainly play her part as the respectful underling, she doesn't view them as Gods Among Men but painfully human, as fallible, as prone to death and mistakes as she is. And her opinions on Hanako are less flattering still; she sees her as a figurehead, pretty to look at and well-trained on what words and tone to use. And sure, she's a splendid netrunner - but it's easy to hone a skill when you have all-day, every-day to commit to it - Victoria holds more respect for the interns in counter-intel, whose lives are actually at risk when they get into the chair.

She might have garnered some respect for the Arasaka daughter after Saburo died and she was left to forge her own path - but the moment Hanako reveals Saburo's play and involvement? It all goes down the drain. Solidifies Victoria's view of the woman as little more than a pretty parrot.

Hanako, meanwhile, I believe would see Victoria as just another rank and file corpo, another suit who wants nothing more than to climb impossibly higher and higher even to their detriment. And she'll promise that with a smile, a gentle nod, steer their conversation into emotional territory because emotions are easy to wrangle - and she thinks by that furrow in Crane's brow that she's got her.

She sees Victoria as a fool for siding so publicly with Michiko, says as much with a gentle tone, like a parent asking their child why they've done something so naughty. Gives her the whole spiel about being Arasaka's heart, family and bloodshed, perhaps believing that Victoria's resentment of her dead half-brother was a passion thing, that she did it through a strong sense of family worth that Angelo ruined with his very existence. It's a severe misunderstanding of character on both their parts.

They have such low views of one another that they'd never get along or understand each other beyond pretense, but it's made especially worse when Victoria deliberately kills Yorinobu against Hanako's wishes.

Arthur Jenkins

I genuinely had to consider this for a bit, cos they'd be an interesting pairing - but in the way it's interesting to watch a spider web up a fly. Victoria, if she considered Jenkins as anything but a headache, would probably find some joy in fucking with him; encouraging his worst ideas in a subtle enough way that she could claim denial when it'd inevitably comes back to bite him, keeping enough of a distance that people wouldn't assume they're associated in any way beyond the thinnest threads of employment.

And Jenkins, well I imagine it'd play into a powertrip for him, a torrid, tense affair where he's cucking Adam fucking Smasher - it'd preen at his pride, make him feel a little bit invincible for a while. The apparent secrecy a thrill. Until Victoria grows bored, deigning him painfully predictable and moving on, sparing him nary a thought until he tries to wave his dick around, use his position against her, threatening to make Smasher aware-

it wouldn't end well for Jenkins, but when does it ever?

Bryce Mosley

I'll admit I haven't dug into Mosley all that much besides what we know from the Placide mission, BUT!!

He and Victoria have definitely rubbed elbows, mixed together at some corporate events - really it was inevitable that their circles would overlap eventually and they get to talking over over-priced champagne while people-watching; ever observant even on their time off.

They'd flirt, make eyes, but both are equally wary of each other - both know how loyal the other is to their respective companies, and that the other is prying in indirect ways, looking for a drip of information, an admission of doing things they shouldn't (ie Victoria breaching the Blackwall once a decade or so-). It could get physical now and then - a supposed one-night stand that reoccurs more than it should; when a party is too boring and nothing interesting to be learned, they retreat into each other's company - but it is purely physical. Trust is the one thing corpos can't really afford, especially when another corporation is involved.

so, as a sexual partner? 100% but a genuine love interest? not a chance.

Alt Cunningham

they absolutely wouldn't work out- like even less than Victoria/Hanako - but I think they'd have…something. i reckon they might have known each other back when Alt was still a human, before Johnny fucked her over forever and condemned her to a digital purgatory - there was something of a respect there, but begrudging on both ends if even acknowledged - at least where their respective netrunning skills were concerned. As people? Not even a fractal of it.

Victoria knows what happened to Alt, met her beyond the Blackwall shortly after it happened and she can't decide if she's terrified of sharing such a fate or not; digital godhood is appealing in concept but she doubts its so easy in practicality; Alt confirms that. They manage to converse in those years, reach an understanding that was impossible in their humanity. It's odd how civil they manage to be - when Alt despises Arasaka and Victoria is viciously protective of it; but odder things have happened.

(idk if i'll ever write it but i'd love for them to have a discussion on humanity, and their respective lack of it after Victoria becomes a 'borg)

[loser-female]

In January, the World Economic Forum released a report showing that fourteen hundred and ninety international experts rated “misinformation and disinformation” the leading global risk of the next two years, surpassing war, migration, and climatic catastrophe. A stack of new books echoes their concerns. In “Falsehoods Fly: Why Misinformation Spreads and How to Stop It” (Columbia), Paul Thagard, a philosopher at the University of Waterloo, writes that “misinformation is threatening medicine, science, politics, social justice, and international relations, affecting problems such as vaccine hesitancy, climate change denial, conspiracy theories, claims of racial inferiority, and the Russian invasion of Ukraine.” In “Foolproof: Why Misinformation Infects Our Minds and How to Build Immunity” (Norton), Sander van der Linden, a social-psychology professor at Cambridge, warns that “viruses of the mind” disseminated by false tweets and misleading headlines pose “serious threats to the integrity of elections and democracies worldwide.” Or, as the M.I.T. political scientist Adam J. Berinsky puts it in “Political Rumors: Why We Accept Misinformation and How to Fight It” (Princeton), “a democracy where falsehoods run rampant can only result in dysfunction.”

[...]

Their behavior demonstrates a paradox of belief. Action is supposed to follow belief, and yet beliefs, even fervently espoused ones, sometimes exist in their own cognitive cage, with little influence over behavior.

[...]

Staying with the Dorze people in southern Ethiopia, he noticed that they made assertions that they seemed both to believe and not to believe. People told him, for example, that “the leopard is a Christian animal who observes the fasts of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.” Nevertheless, the average Dorze man guarded his livestock on fast days just as much as on other days. “Not because he suspects some leopards of being bad Christians,” Sperber wrote, “but because he takes it as true both that leopards fast and that they are always dangerous.”

Sperber concluded that there are two kinds of beliefs. The first he has called “factual” beliefs. Factual beliefs—such as the belief that chairs exist and that leopards are dangerous—guide behavior and tolerate little inconsistency; you can’t believe that leopards do and do not eat livestock. The second category he has called “symbolic” beliefs. These beliefs might feel genuine, but they’re cordoned off from action and expectation. We are, in turn, much more accepting of inconsistency when it comes to symbolic beliefs; we can believe, say, that God is all-powerful and good while allowing for the existence of evil and suffering.

[...]

In a masterly new book, “Religion as Make-Believe” (Harvard), Neil Van Leeuwen, a philosopher at Georgia State University, returns to Sperber’s ideas with notable rigor. He analyzes beliefs with a taxonomist’s care, classifying different types and identifying the properties that distinguish them. He proposes that humans represent and use factual beliefs differently from symbolic beliefs, which he terms “credences.” Factual beliefs are for modelling reality and behaving optimally within it. Because of their function in guiding action, they exhibit features like “involuntariness” (you can’t decide to adopt them) and “evidential vulnerability” (they respond to evidence). Symbolic beliefs, meanwhile, largely serve social ends, not epistemic ones, so we can hold them even in the face of contradictory evidence.

One of Van Leeuwen’s insights is that people distinguish between different categories of belief in everyday speech. We say we “believe” symbolic ones but that we “think” factual ones are true.

[...]

Van Leeuwen and Mercier agree that many beliefs are not best interpreted as factual ones, although they lay out different reasons for why this might be. For Van Leeuwen, a major driver is group identity. Beliefs often function as badges: the stranger and more unsubstantiated the better. Religions, he notes, define membership on the basis of unverifiable or even unintelligible beliefs: that there is one God; that there is reincarnation; that this or that person was a prophet; that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are separate yet one. Mercier, in his work, has focussed more on justification. He says that we have intuitions—that vaccination is bad, for example, or that certain politicians can’t be trusted—and then collect stories that defend our positions. Still, both authors treat symbolic beliefs as socially strategic expressions.

(read the whole thing, I extracted the juice here)

[alargehunkofdebris]

A Theory: Aziraphale in the Fandom of Love

So here’s my newest out-there theory on my absolute favourite character to analyze, Aziraphale, whomst I relate to on so many levels, good and bad. And that theory is, to Aziraphale, the concept of love is what Good Omens is to us.

Here me out. It’s a bit out-there, but I have my reasonings. 

So, in the scene where Beelzebub and Gabriel take hands, we all zoomeyesed on that arm touch that Aziraphale gave Crowley. And then, afterwards, that absolutely melting look he also gives Crowley. And I, like everyone else, immediately thought yep, that is The Look. The “let’s be them” look. The “I’m ready for what they have” look. The “Yep, I am nowhere near in denial any longer, the moment everyone’s out of here it’s confessing time” look.

And yet…and yet…

In The Scene that follows, it’s almost as though Aziraphale is absolutely, one hundred percent, in-one-ear-out-the-other not getting it. Even when Crowley is literally saying, verbatim, the words a person says when they’re proposing marriage (he doesn’t get the whole sentence out, but my God, Aziraphale gets licences for fun, I’d bet money he’s an ordained minister, along with having likely read every romance novel in existence.) Aziraphale is either just not listening…or he’s still completely, utterly oblivious to the direction Crowley is heading.

And then, when the kiss happens, it seems like that, too, is absolutely a shock to him. I’ve written a whole analysis on what he feels here already, but this is a slightly different theory. This is the “Aziraphale is absolutely clueless” theory. In this theory, Aziraphale did not know, at all, that Crowley was feeling like this towards him, and didn’t even consider it an option. It might be repressed, subconscious, whatever, but here, we’re arguing that consciously, Aziraphale is blind, totally, to the possibility of a relationship with Crowley, and that kiss came from absolutely nowhere.

This is somewhat of a stretch, I know. But in this theory, Aziraphale has just never considered himself as a being who can be in a relationship—or, perhaps, that Crowley would ever want a relationship with him—and so his mind simply never goes there. When Shax mentions he and Crowley as an item, he hears it as “Ah yes, an item, as in friends!” He’s so used to this idea that he and Crowley are partners in the business sense, and so used to repressing any inkling of something further, he just does not compute when someone mentions anything else. His brain autocorrects any innuendo to “friends! :D” because for 6000 years, being friends was scandalous enough.

So then, what about the arm touch? What about that happy look he gives Crowley? What about the joy at the ball? What the heck was all that?

Because—and this is a really funny thought to me—I’m mooting (heh) that Aziraphale, in his repressed, I’m-a-being-of-love-but-only-from-the-sidelines way, is simply a fan of love.

Actually, let me go further. He and Crowley, in his mind, are both the biggest members of the Love Fandom. They watch, as fans might watch a TV show, as love happens to other people.

That’s what the whole ball was. That’s what the whole Nina and Maggie thing was. Aziraphale was so happy because he and his best friend were actively engaging in their favourite fandom. They’d been doing it for eons – ever since Adam and Eve.

So when Gabriel and Beelzebub held hands, Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm, not in a omg it could be us way, but in a omg I can’t believe this rarepair is actually canon way. When he gazed with adoration at Crowley, his dumb brain is simply thrilled that his friend is as obsessed with this moment as he is. Because in his mind, he’s the bigger fan (being of love, remember?) and Crowley is the person he’d dragged along with much protest. Who hasn’t felt that thrill when a friend, who’d sworn up and down they wouldn’t like it, actually ended up loving the show or game or movie you recommended?

This theory might not work with other scenes, I don’t know. But the more I think about it, the more I can see it actually being a possibility. And it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings for Crowley—he’s just so unaware of them that he attributes every single one as just “ah yes, the normal feelings one would feel when consuming their favourite content.” It’s the “I love this show/movie/whatever deeply, but only because it’s the one me and my beloved watch together” effect. It’s made even more complicated, of course, because he’d attribute any huge bursts of love he feels for Crowley in these moments as love by proxy from the people they’re watching.

That’s the meta in this meta. Aziraphale, bless his idiotic, misguided heart, is also watching Good Omens. He’s also shipping his favourite characters, and being stunned when the most unexpected couple becomes canon. He’s excitedly throwing a Love Con (the ball) and writing fanfiction (“today me and Crowley met these two friends and they loved each other, but one died in the others arms and it was terribly sad…”) and drawing fanart (sure, he had a reason for drawing Gabriel, but he knows how to use a phone and drive a car – he’d know how to use a camera. This is of course before he knew Gabriel and Beelzebub was a thing, but man it’s a funny thought.)

Yes, I’m going a bit far, but the main point is sound; Aziraphale has always loved human love, and he loves that Crowley does too. He’s just never realized that the love he feels for his favourite show is 98% due to the person he’s watching it with, and that the love he loves is not – as he’s always assumed – out of his reach, beyond that proverbial screen. He’s allowed to have a story of his own.

[hiswordsarekisses]

Our Lord told us: “For as were the Days of Noah (ימֵי נחַ), so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away (οὐκ ἔγνωσαν ἕως ἦλθεν ὁ κατακλυσμὸς καὶ ἦρεν ἅπαντας). Likewise, just as it was in the days of Lot - they were eating and drinking, buying and selling, planting and building, but on the day when Lot went out from Sodom, fire and sulfur rained from heaven and destroyed them all - so will it be on the day when the Son of Man is revealed” (Matt. 24:38-9; Luke 17:28-30).

So what were these “Days of Noah” like? What can we say about the “Generation of the Flood”? Yeshua explained that the "days of Noah" were marked by people who were asleep, blind, and *unaware* (ἔγνωσαν, “agnostic”). They went about their business willfully ignorant of the spiritual reality around them. For ten consecutive generations -- from the creation of Adam until the generation of Noah -- people progressively became more and more ignorant of spiritual reality and truth. Eating and drinking, romantic intrigue and marriage, buying and selling, and other worldly affairs were the preoccupations of the day. In short, people lived their lives oblivious to the spiritual reality all around them. They “forgot” who God was, who they were, why they existed, and where they were going. In short, they were “unaware.”

The deadening effects of sin leads to moral and spiritual blindness that leads to corruption and unthinking brutality and violence. Of Noah's generation it was written "The LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the LORD regretted that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart... the whole earth was corrupt before God, and filled with violence" (Gen. 6:5-6, 11). Rashi understood the word "corruption" (shachat) to primarily refer to sexual immorality (i.e., idolatry) and "violence" (chamas) to primarily refer to theft and robbery. In general, however, the sages regarded the word chamas to refer to lawlessness, that is the denial of Torah, and consequently the benighted condition of living without yirat ha-shamayim (the fear of heaven). When people are spiritually dead, they are unconscious of the wonder of God; oblivious to what is real; and they are consequently debased into animals... We see that in our world today.

Far from being "set free" by throwing off the "shackles" of the law, people are debased and brought into deeper darkness (Rom. 1:26-28; 2 Pet. 2:12). True freedom is not the power to do whatever you want but the power to choose what is right. "Right" and "wrong" are not subjective preferences but objective spiritual judgments indicated both by human conscience but more importantly though revelation of the Torah. Despite claims by foolish thinkers like Frederick Nietzsche, moral truth is not malleable and subject to change. Just as human beings are subject to various physical laws to exist, so they are subject to moral laws. A person can no more murder another and escape the consequences than he can step off the ledge of a skyscraper and not fall to the earth.

The chaos we see in the world today is the result of years of social engineering and propaganda. From their youngest age children have been indoctrinated to believe that there is no God, that there is no transcendental moral authority, and that there is no objective truth about anything. Everything is relative and perspectival, and it is impossible to judge one subjective perspective to be better or worse than another... As a result we are "reaping the whirlwind" and the impulse to destroy is the final expression of this solipsistic and nihilistic ideology. Of course this destruction will be quickly followed by a "new regime" that eventually will enslave all of humanity under the reign of the anti-Christ.

The late Rabbi Levovitz, leader of the Mir Yeshiva, was in Poland before World War II and he saw the German preparations for the concentration camps. Regarding this he said, "The Jews stopped believing in Gehinnom (hell) so Hashem decided to bring Gehinnom into the world. Not the whole Gehinnom, but a little bit of it, a foretaste, a little bit of Gehinnom" (Purim derasha, 1981: Avi Miller). The moral chaos and anarchy we see today is likewise a foretaste of Gehinnom - the reign of terror to come otherwise known as the Great Tribulation....

There is hope, of course. We can and we should pray for the lost to turn to God and be delivered from their demonic fears and rage. And there is a new world coming! Not the "new world order" being prepared by techno-fascist globalists for the anti-Christ, but a truly new world. The chaotic violent and sick world we live in today will be dissolved when our King comes to rule the earth (Psalm 2). Our Lord can come in a blink of an eye. We are now in a state of preparation to herald our king, and that means keeping our hearts directed to his reality and truth. We must not shrink back now - we must affirm the truth and be bold in our witness. Shalom chaverim.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

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Amos 5:4 Hebrew reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/amos5-4-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/amos5-4-lesson.pdf

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[hashems-truth-matters]

None So Blind As Refuse To See

None So Blind As Refuse To See This post may contain affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I may earn a commission on sales. "There are none so blind as those who will not see" "Hearing is believing" The first one is an idiom, while the second one is a principle derived from Scripture. Individuals who possess all the available information yet consciously refuse to acknowledge it, display a flaw in their character, their immaturity, or quite possibly live in denial. Some people may prefer to trust the opinions of others instead of verifying the facts themselves. This behavior is similar to Eve's actions in the garden, where she believed and accepted the Adversary's account of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Instead of unquestioningly following the Word of our God, she allowed herself to be deceived by what she personally witnessed. Both statements emphasize the crucial importance of correctly utilizing our senses throughout our lives, as the way we live today holds eternal significance. The physical universe was created by our God as a nurturing space for us to reside, acquire knowledge, and mature. It is a collection of imagery designed to impart profound spiritual wisdom. However, its current state is not everlasting. In the Scriptures, God clearly conveys that He is the Eternal and Immutable One, the Alpha and Omega. His divine nature is revealed both in the marvels of His creation and the sacred pages of His Word. Messiah Yeshua, who exists from the very start, is the Creator and Sustainer of all things. He informed us that the sun, moon, and stars are meant to serve as signs and indicators of seasons, and He carefully designed their paths. He established His methodologies, creating a calendar for us and defining days for both labor and rest. He stated that the very sun, moon, and stars themselves would serve as a guide to ascertain the precise moment when the Messiah would make His glorious return. Since the very beginning, hearing has remained vital. Even after Adam and Eve sinned, they were deprived of seeing the Father, but they were still able to hear His voice!  Moses gathered all of Israel together and addressed them, saying: "Hear, O Israel, the statutes and the ordinances which I am speaking today in your hearing, that you may learn them and observe them carefully” (Deut. 5:1). Yeshua answered, "The foremost is, 'HEAR, O ISRAEL! THE LORD OUR GOD IS ONE LORD” (Mark 20:29). “So then faith by hearing, and hearing by the word of God” (Rom. 10:17 NKJV). The word "hear" encompasses more than just the physical act of listening to sounds. In its complete Hebraic essence, it signifies Shema, which holds the profound meaning of "to hear, listen, and obediently respond." I understand that many people believe that salvation requires only faith, but the Bible teaches that it also involves obeying what we hear, believing in God's Word, and putting it into action. "They answered Him and said to Him, 'Abraham is our father.' Yeshua said to them, 'If you were Abrahams’ children, you would do the works of Abraham. But now you seek to kill Me, a Man who has told you the truth which I heard from God. Abraham did not do this. You do the deeds of your father.' Then they said to Him, 'We were not born of fornication; we have one Father-God.' Yeshua said to them, 'If God were your Father, you would love Me, for I proceeded forth and came from God; nor have I come of Myself, but He sent Me. Why do you not understand My speech? Because you are not able to listen to My word. You are of your father the devil, and the desires of your father you want to do.'" (John 8: 39-44a) “Why Do You Not Understand My Speech?” The word “speech” is from the Greek word lalia (Strong’s #2981) meaning:  1) speech, i.e a story 2) dialect, mode of speech, pronunciation a) speech which discloses the speaker's native country “Because you are not able to listen to My Word.” “Word” is from the Greek word logos (Strong’s #3059) meaning: 1) of speech a) a word, uttered by a living voice, embodies a conception or idea b) what someone has said; 1) a word 2) the sayings of God 3) decree, mandate or order 4) of the moral precepts given by God 5) Old Testament prophecy given by the prophets 6) what is declared, a thought, declaration, aphorism, a weighty saying, a dictum, a maxim In John, the Logos is the Word of God, Yeshua HaMashiach, imbued with wisdom and power from God, involved in creation and governing the universe, Source of all life, who put on human nature in Yeshua the Messiah, the second person in the Godhead, revealed through words and actions. This clever play on words can easily go unnoticed if you only read the English version. Yeshua the Messiah has always existed. His words perfectly aligned with His divine nature as He is truly one with YHWH. Without this unity, Yeshua could not fulfill His role as our Savior. The people with whom the Messiah spoke were not only eager to put an end to His life, but also quick to label Him as someone without any legitimacy. Although they seemed to back up their words with actions, their behavior and speech were still inconsistent with their professed beliefs, regardless of their strong claims (hypocrites). Today, just like in the past, the actions people take provide valuable insights into their origins and the influences they are exposed to. I am aware that there is a common belief that Paul rejected the Torah and established a new religion. However, the Scriptures actually document Paul's own words: “But this I confess unto thee, that after the way which they call heresy, so worship I the God of my fathers, believing all things which are written in the law and in the prophets:” (Acts 24:14). Paul affirmed his faith in the Law and the Prophets, commonly known among Christians as the Old Testament, or more broadly, the Torah, as a comprehensive concept. The Greek word under “believing” is pisteu, (Strong's #G4100.) Kittel's The Theological Dictionary of the New Testament and other sources suggest that the word in question should not be limited to intellectual agreement, as previously thought, but should instead be understood as encompassing obedience, compliance, and ongoing trust. The concept of "shema" aligns perfectly with the idea of not just hearing, but also faithfully obeying. I am aware that some claim the Old Testament has lost its relevance, however, the Word itself proclaims: “The grass withers, the flower fades, But the word of our God stands forever” (Isa. 40:8). “But the word of the LORD endures forever. Now this is the word which by the gospel was preached to you” (1 Peter 1:25). In America, we have been immensely fortunate to have an abundance of resources, including the Word of God. Many individuals possess multiple copies of this sacred text. However, in other nations, the pages of just one Bible are cherished, carefully separated, and graciously shared among a great number of people. We can personally see the entire world right in front of us. So why should we only rely on hearsay? In the midst of the turmoil that surrounds us, be it on the environmental or political front, it is crucial for us to grasp the true essence of these events. It is now, more than ever, that we must strive to become the bearers of enlightenment, rather than succumbing to ignorance and despair. The Day of the Lord will arrive unexpectedly for those shrouded in darkness, but it will not catch those who walk in the Light off guard.  Yes, I know people say differently, but the Word says: “For You will light my lamp; The LORD my God will enlighten my darkness” (Psa. 18:28). “For you were once darkness, but now light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.” (Eph. 5:8) “But you, brethren, are not in darkness, so that this Day should overtake you as a thief.” (1 Thess. 5: 4 ) The people who stay in darkness are likely to be deeply frightened by all the events that will occur on the earth before the Messiah comes back. However, it is important to understand that these events are not meant to scare His people! "And I will execute vengeance in anger and wrath On the nations which have not obeyed." (Micah 5:15) “For God has not destined us for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ,” (1 Thess. 5:9) "But when these things begin to take place, straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." (Luke 21:28) Believers, the time has come for these events to unfold. Admire the sight above and raise your heads with anticipation! In the sun, moon, and stars, incredible events are occurring, seemingly fulfilling the divine prophecy of guiding us in recognizing the season of the Messiah's return. During 2014 and 2015, on both the spring and fall Feasts of the Lord, a remarkable event took place: two sets of blood-red moons, known as a tetrad, occurred each year. Additionally, these years were accompanied by two solar eclipses. To further add to the significance, in 2016, on the Day of Trumpets, another eclipse occurred where the moon was not giving its light. These events matched what was foretold. In the past 500 years, two significant tetrads took place, namely in 1947 and 1967. Interestingly, these events coincided with the restoration of Land to Israel, adding an extraordinary dimension to these occurrences. Jubilee cycles of years fit the picture. Based on astronomical software, the unique and exceptional combination of events that occurred on these specific days in 2014 and 2015 has never been witnessed before and is not expected to occur again in the future. Does this capture your interest? There is an abundance of information beyond what I can cover in this brief explanation. Indeed, I am aware that there are individuals who claim that the Feasts are exclusively for the Jews, deeming them insignificant and irrelevant to Gentiles. However, it is essential to remember that the Word itself states otherwise: “These the feasts of the LORD, holy convocations which you shall proclaim at their appointed times.” (Lev. 23:4) “Behold, I am building a temple for the name of the LORD my God, to dedicate to Him, to burn before Him sweet incense, for the continual shewbread, for the burnt offerings morning and evening, on the Sabbaths, on the New Moons, and on the set feasts of the LORD our God. This forever to Israel.”  (2 Chronicles 2:4) “Therefore remember that you, once Gentiles in the flesh--who are called Uncircumcision by what is called the Circumcision made in the flesh by hands-- that at that time you were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. … Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:11-13, 19 ). This passage states that Believers are no longer Gentiles (pagans), but are grafted in to Israel and as such become Hebrew. By believing in, honoring, and serving the God of Israel, you have become an integral part of Israel, the divine household of God - the Commonwealth of Israel. If some of the branches were broken off and you, as a wild olive tree, were grafted among them, becoming a participant in the root and richness of the olive tree, do not pridefully exalt yourself over the branches. “But if you do boast, you do not support the root, but the root you.” (Rom. 11:17-18 NKJV) It's not too late to choose your path. Will you join the ranks of the children of Light or surrender to the darkness? Do you dare to claim that the entirety of God's Word is obsolete and that His Feasts hold no significance whatsoever? Will you be counted among those described by Isaiah and quoted by both Matthew and Luke? “For the hearts of this people have grown dull. ears are hard of hearing, And their eyes they have closed, Lest they should see with eyes and hear with ears, Lest they should understand with hearts and turn, So that I should heal them.” (Matt. 13:15) Those who refuse to follow the Word and mock those who do follow the Whole Word are known as arrogant. Interestingly, even those who resist the Whole Word still seem to find the Psalms to be agreeable. I can't help but wonder if they would still be interested once they see and hear what's included! “You rebuke the arrogant, the cursed, Who wander from Your commandments.” (Psalm 119: 21 NASB) “The arrogant utterly deride me, Yet I do not turn aside from Your law.” (Psalm 119: 51 NASB) “The arrogant have dug pits for me, Men who are not in accord with Your law.” (Psalm 119: 85 NASB) Malachi also speaks about something of great importance, which is commonly believed to be a reference to the Day of His coming, known as the Day of the Lord.  Although many claim that the prophets are no longer important, the Word strongly declares otherwise: "You have said, 'It is vain to serve God; and what profit is it that we have kept His charge, and that we have walked in mourning before the LORD of hosts? 'So now we call the arrogant blessed; not only are the doers of wickedness built up but they also test God and escape. Then those who feared the LORD spoke to one another, and the LORD gave attention and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before Him for those who fear the LORD and who esteem His name.” (Mal. 3: 14-16 ) In my opinion, the impactful words spoken by the Messiah are often overlooked by those who dismiss the significance of the Old Testament. These words should be seen as thought-provoking and deserving of serious consideration: "Not everyone who says to Me, 'Lord, Lord,' shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven. "Many will say to Me in that day, 'Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness!'” (Matt. 7:21-23) It's possible that my assumption is incorrect, but it seems that He may have been specifically addressing individuals who identified themselves as His followers. It appears that they were fooled, as He claimed to be unfamiliar with them. The term "know" in this context does not indicate that He was unaware of them, as He possesses complete knowledge. It instead pertains to a deep and personal understanding. Similarly, the term "lawlessness" translates to the Greek word "anomia," where "nomia" corresponds to the Torah and the prefix "a" denotes the absence or disregard of it. I understand that some people claim that the Law has been abolished, but now I will show you tangible proof of what the Word and our Messiah affirm. There are more examples. The Parable of the Ten Virgins can be beautifully understood as a vivid representation of Believers. Each one of them possesses a profound understanding of the Messiah and shares an undeniable certainty that His glorious return is imminent. There are two distinct groups who are waiting: those who follow societal expectations, and those who faithfully abide by the teachings of the Word. While we typically offer our oil and supplies to others, it is important to acknowledge that during the time of His Return, it will not be feasible to share the profound connection we have with the Messiah. It can’t be purchased and it can’t be given away. Either one has already chosen to surrender to Him or not. "And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding; and the door was shut. Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, 'Lord, Lord, open to us!' "But he answered and said, 'Assuredly, I say to you, I do not know you.'” (Matt. 25: 10-12 ) I am still uncertain whether being rejected from "the wedding" implies merely being considered the "least in heaven" compared to those who did and taught the Whole Word, or whether it involves being cast into a place of despair and agony characterized by weeping and grinding of teeth. "Whoever therefore breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does and teaches , he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt. 5:19) I am truly grateful that He is the just Judge, and not us! “The Spirit of the LORD will rest on Him, The spirit of wisdom and understanding, The spirit of counsel and strength, The spirit of knowledge and the fear of the LORD. And He will delight in the fear of the LORD, And He will not judge by what His eyes see, Nor make a decision by what His ears hear; But with righteousness He will judge the poor, And decide with fairness for the afflicted of the earth; And He will strike the earth with the rod of His mouth, And with the breath of His lips He will slay the wicked.” (Isaiah Read the full article

[kammartinez]

Ginny Hogan

Josh Hawley, best known for fleeing a mob he helped incite, has written a book on manhood. In Hawley’s defense, he began writing the book before everyone found out about the running-away situation. But it was, unfortunately, after he did the running.

In Manhood, the Missouri senator argues that men are failing, that American masculinity is under siege by “the left” (he rarely gets more specific), and that the solution to this crisis is Bible study and a resurrected appreciation for bygone masculine virtues like courage and strength, while leaving the caregiving professions to the ladies.

I want to begin by acknowledging the value of asking, “Are men treated unfairly?” It’s too easy to dismiss the question. Men are as much a part of society as anyone else, and if there are reasons to believe that recent cultural and political changes are offering them a raw deal, we should probably investigate. And while I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Hawley’s book isn’t misogynistic (there’s a whole chapter on how all men can be kings), I’ll admit that, on the whole, Hawley isn’t completely blaming women for men’s circumstances. Hawley and I have a lot in common, too: Our grandfathers were both Midwestern farmers named Harold, our fathers were both bankers, we both went to Catholic high schools, and to be completely honest, I too would have run away from the January 6 rioters. So it’s not surprising that we can find some common ground.

While Hawley isn’t wrong when he recognizes that something’s up with men, he wildly misses the mark on exactly what that something is. Specifically, he advocates a return to ancient values. He thinks all men need to get married, as a man’s job is to take a “vow” and then “endure” (which feels unnecessarily rude to his own wife). He mocks men who live with their parents, critiques unemployed men (especially those hooked on painkillers), and shames a former student for admitting that he didn’t feel ready to have kids. To be honest, I’m not sure I can imagine a less productive message than encouraging men to become fathers before they’re ready. Hawley is only interested in helping men live the exact same life that he himself leads, even if that life isn’t available (or even desirable) to them. According to recent studies, it turns out that a slight majority of Americans did not attend Yale Law School or receive campaign donations from Peter Thiel.

No one, myself included, should read this book. I was prepared for all the God-talk; I was less ready for the dangling modifiers. Hawley is awfully repetitive and dull. For much of the book, he leans on familiar right-wing canards, such as that “the left” denies the existence of “men” and “women.” We all know this to be a straw man; nothing about acknowledging the existence and humanity of a transgender person suggests a denial of the same for a cisgender man or woman.

Hawley complains about “the left’s” fight to end masculinity, but he ultimately puts the onus on the male reader to fight back and reclaim his own. The bulk of the book is an analysis of six male imperative identities: Husband, Father, Warrior, Builder, Priest, and King—just like the Meredith Brooks song. These aren’t suggested archetypes; it appears men are expected to be all six.

The structure of each chapter is, loosely: personal anecdote, biblical analysis, critique of “the left,” unrelated fact about Teddy Roosevelt. The biblical parts are largely worthless. While he’s not without criticism for his biblical pals (Adam in particular), Hawley’s general claim is that if men copied the male protagonists of the Bible, they’d be OK. For example, as long as they acted more like David and built a whole city from scratch, they might be able to thrive. Yet he conveniently skips the part of David’s story where he sent one of his generals to die because he had the hots for the man’s wife. In fact, Hawley skips over everything “unmanly” (according to him) about the biblical men. For example, most people in the Bible lived with their parents—it was, in fact, a huge deal when an adult Jacob ran away from home.

Amid the biblical lessons, Hawley gets into what’s likely to be the most headline-grabbing section of the book: “Cheap Sex.” Here, Hawley goes after the porn industry. Again, I don’t wholly disagree—there are certainly problems with porn. Hawley, however, believes porn’s only victims are its viewers. He inundates the reader with statistics on porn’s popularity; the place densest with hard facts is the place they’re least necessary (we all know porn is popular). His rundown of stats, to me, screams, “I’m not the only one, OK?” We believe you, Josh. And if your “manhood” has been affected by pornography, modern medicine is here to help.

We can and should mock Hawley, but we’re taking a risk if we don’t read between the lines. The most notable parts of the book aren’t about the Bible or sex or porn or even masculinity. If you’re going to read any chapter of Manhood, skim the one on “Builders.”

Now, the book is explicitly directed to Christian, cisgender straight men, as Hawley barely believes in any other kind of dude. But he does very little to explain why either our contemporary malaise or virtues such as courage are unique to these fellows. However, for the sake of argument, I’ll play ball and acknowledge the suffering of the Christian, cisgender straight guy. I’ll admit he’s no longer valued for the things he once prided himself on and that the new economy doesn’t feel built for him. I’ll admit that ridiculing men isn’t the answer. I’d like to help but what does Josh think is the answer?

Hawley’s entry point to decrying the left throughout the book is Epicurus, the Greek philosopher and Hawley’s longtime obsession: In a 2010 essay for National Review, he argued that “the left” upholds the Epicurean ideal of individual hedonism over the best interests of the herd. Hawley’s update to this is that “the left’s” Epicurean solution to the problem of manhood is to try to change men’s character (which is, incidentally, the opposite of individualism). As he writes, those mean leftists are trying to change what it means to be a man:

[Get] men to think differently, to reject outmoded stereotypes for more modern, enlightened notions. Adjust the ideology, in other words. Teach boys that aggressiveness is not linked to biology, and that the notion of masculine assertiveness is just another—and dangerous—social construct. Help men find a different set of masculine ideals that don’t lionize the warrior virtues.

It took me a beat to see Hawley’s exact problem with this approach, but after reading the entire book and returning to it, I now see which words he wants the reader to disparage. “Teach.” “Help.” “Adjust.” The idea that men would need any kind of aid. Because, contrary to the book’s title, Hawley isn’t telling men to be more “masculine.” He’s telling men—specifically, the working class—to solve their own problems. Because Josh Hawley sure as shit isn’t going to.

A consistent through line in Manhood is Hawley’s unsettling obsession with restraint. He clearly takes pride in his own body, evidenced by the inclusion of a gratuitous story about strangers asking him if he were an athlete. The only thing he apologizes for—in the entire book—is letting his kids eat doughnuts once a week. In villainizing the Epicurean left, he argues that self-control is the solution. As he writes, “Every man can be a man of liberty. He can know the freedom of self-control and the agency it brings…. Put another way, a man can know what it means to rule.” And then, more explicitly: “[Blue-collar] jobs have disappeared overseas or been simply eliminated. In their stead, our political leaders offer government benefits—welfare, dependency. Dependence is in fact a temptation to every man, in every age.”

Right after this passage, he ridicules a friend’s son for getting fired from his job at a fast-food restaurant.

Maybe Hawley thinks it’s the responsibility of the fast-food employee to keep his job. But let’s say he does—where does that get the fast-food employee? The minimum wage in Missouri is $12 an hour—almost $4 below a livable wage in the state (for someone with no children; the gap is even wider if they have kids, which Hawley believes they must). Whose responsibility is that? What has Hawley done to help men who are struggling? What has he—a United States senator—ever done to empower the working class? Hawley doesn’t care about the working people of Missouri; he doesn’t even live there.

Rather than working across the aisle to boost the minimum wage, Hawley proposed his own convoluted bill with no chance of passing. In the chapter on the diminishing value of blue-collar work, Hawley doesn’t mention unions even once. He’s talked a big pro-union game, like when he lambasted President Biden for selling out rail workers. But his actions? Hawley opposed efforts to roll back Missouri’s anti-union “right to work” laws; his lifetime AFL-CIO score is 4 percent—and where is his support for the pro-worker PRO Act?

While others suggest retraining men for careers that have shortages—such as teaching—Hawley argues that we should stop trying to push men into jobs that don’t appeal to their masculinity. And despite his criticism of Big Tech, his very political career as we know it exists because of early support from Peter Thiel. And may we never forget that in his most iconic moment, he voted against upholding the results of the 2020 election and, in so doing, tried to deny all of us—of all genders, classes, and races—our most basic tool for holding the powerful to account and improving our circumstances: our vote.

I started this review by making fun of Hawley for running away from the January 6 insurrectionists. And we should never stop making fun of that. But we can’t let it be the only thing people know about him. Running from danger isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done, and I’m not sure who would have benefited if Hawley had stood his ground and started swinging fists at the rioters at the Capitol.

It’s what he did before and after that. There are many different ways to be a man, but the type we need is someone who takes responsibility for his actions. Here are Hawley’s actions: All he’s done, for his entire career, is pin the blame on anyone but himself. By that standard of manhood alone, I feel comfortable saying Hawley’s not one.

[kamreadsandrecs]

Ginny Hogan

Josh Hawley, best known for fleeing a mob he helped incite, has written a book on manhood. In Hawley’s defense, he began writing the book before everyone found out about the running-away situation. But it was, unfortunately, after he did the running.

In Manhood, the Missouri senator argues that men are failing, that American masculinity is under siege by “the left” (he rarely gets more specific), and that the solution to this crisis is Bible study and a resurrected appreciation for bygone masculine virtues like courage and strength, while leaving the caregiving professions to the ladies.

I want to begin by acknowledging the value of asking, “Are men treated unfairly?” It’s too easy to dismiss the question. Men are as much a part of society as anyone else, and if there are reasons to believe that recent cultural and political changes are offering them a raw deal, we should probably investigate. And while I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Hawley’s book isn’t misogynistic (there’s a whole chapter on how all men can be kings), I’ll admit that, on the whole, Hawley isn’t completely blaming women for men’s circumstances. Hawley and I have a lot in common, too: Our grandfathers were both Midwestern farmers named Harold, our fathers were both bankers, we both went to Catholic high schools, and to be completely honest, I too would have run away from the January 6 rioters. So it’s not surprising that we can find some common ground.

While Hawley isn’t wrong when he recognizes that something’s up with men, he wildly misses the mark on exactly what that something is. Specifically, he advocates a return to ancient values. He thinks all men need to get married, as a man’s job is to take a “vow” and then “endure” (which feels unnecessarily rude to his own wife). He mocks men who live with their parents, critiques unemployed men (especially those hooked on painkillers), and shames a former student for admitting that he didn’t feel ready to have kids. To be honest, I’m not sure I can imagine a less productive message than encouraging men to become fathers before they’re ready. Hawley is only interested in helping men live the exact same life that he himself leads, even if that life isn’t available (or even desirable) to them. According to recent studies, it turns out that a slight majority of Americans did not attend Yale Law School or receive campaign donations from Peter Thiel.

No one, myself included, should read this book. I was prepared for all the God-talk; I was less ready for the dangling modifiers. Hawley is awfully repetitive and dull. For much of the book, he leans on familiar right-wing canards, such as that “the left” denies the existence of “men” and “women.” We all know this to be a straw man; nothing about acknowledging the existence and humanity of a transgender person suggests a denial of the same for a cisgender man or woman.

Hawley complains about “the left’s” fight to end masculinity, but he ultimately puts the onus on the male reader to fight back and reclaim his own. The bulk of the book is an analysis of six male imperative identities: Husband, Father, Warrior, Builder, Priest, and King—just like the Meredith Brooks song. These aren’t suggested archetypes; it appears men are expected to be all six.

The structure of each chapter is, loosely: personal anecdote, biblical analysis, critique of “the left,” unrelated fact about Teddy Roosevelt. The biblical parts are largely worthless. While he’s not without criticism for his biblical pals (Adam in particular), Hawley’s general claim is that if men copied the male protagonists of the Bible, they’d be OK. For example, as long as they acted more like David and built a whole city from scratch, they might be able to thrive. Yet he conveniently skips the part of David’s story where he sent one of his generals to die because he had the hots for the man’s wife. In fact, Hawley skips over everything “unmanly” (according to him) about the biblical men. For example, most people in the Bible lived with their parents—it was, in fact, a huge deal when an adult Jacob ran away from home.

Amid the biblical lessons, Hawley gets into what’s likely to be the most headline-grabbing section of the book: “Cheap Sex.” Here, Hawley goes after the porn industry. Again, I don’t wholly disagree—there are certainly problems with porn. Hawley, however, believes porn’s only victims are its viewers. He inundates the reader with statistics on porn’s popularity; the place densest with hard facts is the place they’re least necessary (we all know porn is popular). His rundown of stats, to me, screams, “I’m not the only one, OK?” We believe you, Josh. And if your “manhood” has been affected by pornography, modern medicine is here to help.

We can and should mock Hawley, but we’re taking a risk if we don’t read between the lines. The most notable parts of the book aren’t about the Bible or sex or porn or even masculinity. If you’re going to read any chapter of Manhood, skim the one on “Builders.”

Now, the book is explicitly directed to Christian, cisgender straight men, as Hawley barely believes in any other kind of dude. But he does very little to explain why either our contemporary malaise or virtues such as courage are unique to these fellows. However, for the sake of argument, I’ll play ball and acknowledge the suffering of the Christian, cisgender straight guy. I’ll admit he’s no longer valued for the things he once prided himself on and that the new economy doesn’t feel built for him. I’ll admit that ridiculing men isn’t the answer. I’d like to help but what does Josh think is the answer?

Hawley’s entry point to decrying the left throughout the book is Epicurus, the Greek philosopher and Hawley’s longtime obsession: In a 2010 essay for National Review, he argued that “the left” upholds the Epicurean ideal of individual hedonism over the best interests of the herd. Hawley’s update to this is that “the left’s” Epicurean solution to the problem of manhood is to try to change men’s character (which is, incidentally, the opposite of individualism). As he writes, those mean leftists are trying to change what it means to be a man:

[Get] men to think differently, to reject outmoded stereotypes for more modern, enlightened notions. Adjust the ideology, in other words. Teach boys that aggressiveness is not linked to biology, and that the notion of masculine assertiveness is just another—and dangerous—social construct. Help men find a different set of masculine ideals that don’t lionize the warrior virtues.

It took me a beat to see Hawley’s exact problem with this approach, but after reading the entire book and returning to it, I now see which words he wants the reader to disparage. “Teach.” “Help.” “Adjust.” The idea that men would need any kind of aid. Because, contrary to the book’s title, Hawley isn’t telling men to be more “masculine.” He’s telling men—specifically, the working class—to solve their own problems. Because Josh Hawley sure as shit isn’t going to.

A consistent through line in Manhood is Hawley’s unsettling obsession with restraint. He clearly takes pride in his own body, evidenced by the inclusion of a gratuitous story about strangers asking him if he were an athlete. The only thing he apologizes for—in the entire book—is letting his kids eat doughnuts once a week. In villainizing the Epicurean left, he argues that self-control is the solution. As he writes, “Every man can be a man of liberty. He can know the freedom of self-control and the agency it brings…. Put another way, a man can know what it means to rule.” And then, more explicitly: “[Blue-collar] jobs have disappeared overseas or been simply eliminated. In their stead, our political leaders offer government benefits—welfare, dependency. Dependence is in fact a temptation to every man, in every age.”

Right after this passage, he ridicules a friend’s son for getting fired from his job at a fast-food restaurant.

Maybe Hawley thinks it’s the responsibility of the fast-food employee to keep his job. But let’s say he does—where does that get the fast-food employee? The minimum wage in Missouri is $12 an hour—almost $4 below a livable wage in the state (for someone with no children; the gap is even wider if they have kids, which Hawley believes they must). Whose responsibility is that? What has Hawley done to help men who are struggling? What has he—a United States senator—ever done to empower the working class? Hawley doesn’t care about the working people of Missouri; he doesn’t even live there.

Rather than working across the aisle to boost the minimum wage, Hawley proposed his own convoluted bill with no chance of passing. In the chapter on the diminishing value of blue-collar work, Hawley doesn’t mention unions even once. He’s talked a big pro-union game, like when he lambasted President Biden for selling out rail workers. But his actions? Hawley opposed efforts to roll back Missouri’s anti-union “right to work” laws; his lifetime AFL-CIO score is 4 percent—and where is his support for the pro-worker PRO Act?

While others suggest retraining men for careers that have shortages—such as teaching—Hawley argues that we should stop trying to push men into jobs that don’t appeal to their masculinity. And despite his criticism of Big Tech, his very political career as we know it exists because of early support from Peter Thiel. And may we never forget that in his most iconic moment, he voted against upholding the results of the 2020 election and, in so doing, tried to deny all of us—of all genders, classes, and races—our most basic tool for holding the powerful to account and improving our circumstances: our vote.

I started this review by making fun of Hawley for running away from the January 6 insurrectionists. And we should never stop making fun of that. But we can’t let it be the only thing people know about him. Running from danger isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done, and I’m not sure who would have benefited if Hawley had stood his ground and started swinging fists at the rioters at the Capitol.

It’s what he did before and after that. There are many different ways to be a man, but the type we need is someone who takes responsibility for his actions. Here are Hawley’s actions: All he’s done, for his entire career, is pin the blame on anyone but himself. By that standard of manhood alone, I feel comfortable saying Hawley’s not one.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

lost pieces pt. iiii

a/n: this piece is very near and dear to my heart which is why i will probably never publish the finished version (because, if we’re being honest, if this were to follow the trend of most of same mistakes-verse and get hate i simply don’t know if my heart or soul could handle that)

piece synopsis: from a fic titled “you’ll lose your faith for a bit and question if she’s you” (or the coming out fic no one but me needed)

lost pieces masterlist | same mistakes-verse masterlist

warnings: internalized biphobia, denial of sexuality, unedited

"She’s so pretty.”

Hangman shifts, turning to look at you. “I agree.”

“I mean, really, she’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s pretty?” Coyote leans over, looking at the phone.

“Hailee Steinfeld.” You respond.

“Second that. Why’re you looking at pictures of her?”

“I think she was in the movie we watched last night.” Hangman responds, nodding down to his phone, looking through her IMDb.

“Oh, what movie? I’ve probably seen it, I love her.” You ask.

“That Bumblebee movie. I don’t know, Hangman picked it.” Coyote responds, throwing his hands up in the air.

You made a face. “God, that’s one of her worst films. Didn’t Dylan O’Brien voice Bumblebee? I can’t remember. Anyways, why would you pick that? She’s in so many better movies. Like the Pitch Perfect franchise does exist. Movie full of pretty women if I’ve ever seen it.”

Hangman turned in his chair fully, face full of confusion. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“You keep-ow.” Hangman turned, glaring at his boyfriend. Your eyes flitted between the blonde and your best friend, who had just pinched his boyfriend and was shooting him a glance.

“Okay.” You say, laughing nervously. “Moving on. I’m hungry, so... food?”

-

“Javy, I think your best friend is gay.”

“No shit.” His eyebrow raised in question as his boyfriend shifted to sit up against the headboard.

“Really? Did I miss the memo?”

Javy sighs, reaching up to run a hand over his face. “No. I don’t think she knows and it’s not really my place to speculate on her sexuality.”

Jake watched the rise and fall of his boyfriends bare chest, admiring the glint of the dog tags in the moonlight. “But?”

“But there’s a really good chance she’s bi.”

“She ever say anything to you over the years?”

He shakes his head, shifting to look at Hangman in the eye. “No, but she’s said all this stuff, like she did this morning, over the years that has just... made me wonder. And she tries so hard to be an ally that sometimes I think she’s compensating for something.” Hangman reaches a hand out to his boyfriend intertwining their fingers. “I tried once, about a month after we came out to the team. She was super defensive, adamant she was straight, and got pretty panicked so I dropped it. Haven’t brought it up since.” Jake catches his bottom teeth in his lips as he let out a sigh.

“So basically she’s so far in the closet she can’t even see it?” Javy shrugs.

“Maybe. Like I said, not my place to speculate. She’ll figure out or she won’t. That’s up to her.”

“Yeah, but don’t you think she’d be happier? If she knew that about herself?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why are you so interested in my best friend’s sexuality all of the sudden?”

He sighs, letting his boyfriends hand drop as he moves to place his back against the headboard, crossing his arms. “Because. I remember what it was like to be so far in the closet the mere suggestion of being anything but straight made me want to run for the hills. Made me want shove anyone who suggested it off my plane over an ocean.” He tilts his head, looking to his boyfriend. “I also know that when I stopped hiding from who I was, stopped being scared, I was a lot happier. Felt a lot freer.” He swallows, reaching out to pick off a piece of lint from his sweatpants. “I also know she carries a lot of weight.”

“I just don’t know what she’s running from. If she is, I mean. Maverick would love and support her, so would Rooster. We would obviously and she doesn’t have a thing to worry about with the rest of the team.”

“Maybe she thinks Rooster will break-up with her. Kind of a life-changing realization, you know?”

“Rooster’s down bad for her, he ain’t going anywhere.”

“Not if she’s not into men.” Javy moves, pushing himself off the headboard.

“You really think that?” The words are sharp, a little bit defensive, and Jake winces. “You, what, think she just stays with him because she loves him but that’s not enough?”

“No, Javy-”

“Then what, Jake? Think she’s got some internalized biphobia she’s projecting on to herself? This is my best friend you’re talking about.”

“Maybe she is Javy.” Jake whispers and Javy roll his eyes, reaching over to grab a pillow. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks as Coyote moves off the bed and towards the door.

“Sleeping on the couch. Don’t wanna hear this about her.”

“Javy, c’mon, come back. We don’t need to fight about this.” Javy spins on his heel.

“You drop it. Doesn’t matter whether she is or isn’t. Isn’t either of our places to discuss this or bring it up to her.”

Jake sighs. “I just think that maybe she’d be happier.”

“Regardless if she is or isn’t, she needs to figure that out on her own.” Coyote says firmly, but he’s already inching back towards the bed as Jake watches him carefully.

He throws his hands up into the air in surrender. “Fine, I’ll drop it. Please just come back to bed.” Javy nods, already climbing back onto the mattress, bouncing softly in Hangman’s awaiting arms.

-

You’re standing at the bar, talking to Penny amidst the loud chatter of the Hard Deck when Hangman slips an arm around you. He bends closer to your ear, words hushed.

“Hey, can I talk to you outside?” You nod, picking your beer up from the counter and waving to Penny as she moves farther down to serve other customers. You follow Hangman, weaving your way through the crowd, and once outside, you’re quick to slip off your shoes as you reach the sand. He nods his head to further down the beach. “Wanna go sit?”

“Sure.” You say, taking a sip of your beer. You follow him to a good distance away from the Hard Deck and follow his lead, settling into the sand. He sighs, setting his beer on the sand and bringing his arms to rest on his knees.

“Listen, um, we gotta talk about something.” You swallow, setting your drink down as well.

“Okay.”

He sighs, rubbing his hands together. “Before I came out, before I met Javy, I was... I was very in denial about who I was. Kept thinking something was wrong with me and kept screwing all these girls just to prove I was straight. I don’t know who I was trying to prove it to, myself maybe. And that shit... it was lonely. It was a heavy burden to carry. I’m glad I don’t have to anymore.”

You watch him carefully. Contrary to popular belief, you and Hangman were actually quite close. He’d never be Coyote but he knew when to keep it real with you and you appreciated the realness of your friendship more than anything. Weird how things changed.

“How’d you know?” You hear yourself asking. You aren’t sure why. You’re straight.

“I don’t know, I guess when I met Javy I had this oh moment. Everything about me sort of made sense. I was still a few years out from learning to deal with it but something clicked.”

You bit your bottom lip, turning his words over in his head. You still weren’t sure why the two of you were having this conversation. “Where you going with this Hangman?”

“Do you ever feel that way? Like you have to prove something to yourself or that you’re carrying a heavy burden? Waiting for an oh moment?” You give a half-shrug, mouth gaping open. He sighs again, sitting back to rest on his palms. His gaze moves from you to the full moon on the horizon. “Are you gay?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. You don’t respond, simply looking at him with wide eyes. He finally drags his gaze backs to you but holds firm, unwilling to back down. Finally, you force yourself to start breathing again, coughing nervously. You shake your head, looking down at the sand. “N-no, I’m not Seresin.”

“It’d be okay, if you were.”

“Yes, I’m very aware that it would be. But I’m not.” He tilts his head in acknowledgement and begins to stand up from the sand. All you can do is watch him.

“Okay, well, I mean, it just wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you were into girls.”

“I’m straight Seresin.”

You were... weren’t you?

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” He picks his beer up from the sand, turning on his heel to head back towards the bar. You sit there bewildered, turning his words over in your head.

Still, there was some part of you that felt unsettled. Like Jake had prodded at something dormant just enough to wake it up.

-

You sat on your bed, trying to remember what you were doing. You groaned, running a hand over your face. A soft knock sounded at your door and you looked up to see Rooster leaning against the open door. His smile was soft but you’d known him long enough to see the concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” You whisper softly.

Ever since your conversation with Hangman, one that hadn’t really been a conversation at all, things in your world felt off-kilter. You felt like you were waiting for the band to snap, like for the realization to come, the thing that would change everything as you knew it. You’d been sick to your stomach most days, unable to sleep.

Admittedly, you had always wondered. Maybe a little bit more so after Javy had come out. But there was never enough to prove to yourself that you were that you had always brushed the thought off, burying it deep down. And now it was resurfacing in waves, questions and fears drowning you.

You weren’t... You were straight. You were sure of it.

...Right?

“-you listening?” You shake your head, eyes flickering back up to your boyfriend. His smile was still there but you could tell it was more forced than anything.

“Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a minute.” You say, waving a hand. “What were you saying?”

He sighs, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Coyote told me you bailed. Third time this week. He’s worried.”

You shrug. “Just needed some time to myself.” He nods slowly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you.

You wouldn't believe you either.

“Hey, are you okay? You haven’t really been yourself lately.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you hear your Dad’s footsteps in the hallway. He appears just a few moments later over Rooster’s shoulder and he shifts to allow him room to lean up against the other side of the doorway.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to come out to the hangar tomorrow? For the long weekend?” You nod, even though it’s the last thing you want to do with how messy your brain has been lately.

“Sure.” You look to your boyfriend. “Want to come with us?” Your Dad sighs, straightening up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Actually, I was thinking it could be just us kiddo.”

“Oh.” You say, frowning slightly. “Am I in trouble?” He shakes his head.

“No. Hey, you okay? You got anything you want to talk about?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

Just like how you’re straight?

You brush the thought off, moving to stand up from the bed. “I beg to differ.” Rooster mutters and you shoot him a glare.

“I’m fine. Now I’m tired so if the two of you would kindly-” You motion for them to shoo and they both sigh, exchanging a glance.

“Its like... 7 PM.” Your Dad says, glancing at his watch.

“Well- I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed early.”

Exhausted of running from who you are?

Rooster gives you a wary look before conceding, moving a few feet to give you a kiss. It’s short and feels forced and sends a wave of cold over you. He grimaces as he pulls away and doesn’t say anything as he steps back, slipping past your Dad. Your Dad sighs, stepping back and closing your bedroom door behind him. You sit back down on your bed, trying to swallow the tears.

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

8:17 pmpdt 11 April 2023 Tuesday

Wow. I guess everything IS a lie. Spine pain 😖😭. No hope for a future. He keeps attacking me with acid. Diarrhea tummy ache green auto save saw through keyboard ⌨️ a minute ago. He keeps showing me signs 🪧 with time big bit. I guess I AM going to bite the dust in a big way. There really is nothing to fight for. Nick Carter is going to win. My body is going to be completely eaten away by acid. 8:22 pmpdt wow. Prostitution and human s*x trafficking will continue. Framing of people who did nothing will continue. And no one will care. Q intentionally wanted me with Scott who she thought 💭 was bad, and still decided she wanted me with him instead of a real nice guy. 8:25 pmpdt seems like I’m never going to win anything. 8:25 pmpdt left foot 🦶 bone 🦴 pain 8:26 pmpdt 😖😭 I guess I’m not trust worthy. 8:27 pmpdt

12:01 am pdt what is a holy grail? King 🤴 Arthur looked /searched for it. Holy = virtuous. I read it might be the cup? Plate? Jesus Christ used in the last supper. Mrs. Davis Tv show commercial. Taza = cup? In Spanish. Tazo = tea 🫖 brand. If you look 👀 at languages some words are borrowed and transliterated? T becomes D or vice versa?? F’s <-> p’s. S<-> z ??????? Spanish assigns genders to things with o’s and a’s. Some a’s sound like o’s? E’s sound like a’s. 12:08 am pdt I want to look 👀 at (scalp sharp pain 12:08 am pdt) how far back words like ooyasuminasai go in nihongo, Bcz it’s very similar to Greek. So I wonder 💭 if this goes very far back maybe 2000 years? With the apocalypse being written in the Bible, and John writing letters to churches ⛪️ and it said to a church ⛪️ in Asia Minor? I don’t remember where that is. I wonder then if Greeks went to Japan 🇯🇵. 12:11 am pdt 12:12 am pdt

1:59 am pdt there’s news 📰 that a man 👨 is running around grabbing women by the genitals. That’s probably been happening for years in Berkeley Bcz I heard a similar thing when I was there, sometime btwn 2008-2009? Makes me wonder 💭 if all he or they been doing is grabbing and then letting of and running 🏃‍♂️ away, makes me think 💭 it could almost be like a frat dare. 2:02 am pdt

I think a stabbing also happened at a frat party around that time. 2:03 am pdt

6:01 pmpdt 6:02 pmpdt brains 🧠 storming all things that probably (autocorrect: should don’t won’t) should have helped: collection and separation of food scraps for composting at all residents and businesses, mandatory recycling at all locations of every material, more forest 🌳 maintenance year round for forest renewal and composting. 6:08 pmpdt I felt another large chunk of bone 🦴 was taken from me and now I walk differently. I m feeling delusional? About it to cope with it, but I’m sure the truth will hit me hard when I hear it and when the big thing will actually happen to me. I’m not looking forward to it. It started when I was 32 years old even though my paternal grandmother 👵 had my uncle when she was 35 years old and my mother’s sister had her daughter when she was ≈40-42 years old (I remember it was 42 she said? But I doubt myself so margin of error going back to 40 years old 6:12 pmpdt). Menopause can happen starting early 30’s. 6:13 pmpdt last gynecologist in 2018? Said I was ok 👌. Didn’t mention menopause at all. 6:13 pmpdt if my hip bone 🦴 suddenly needs help I will consider all health professionals unprofessional and negligent. 6:14 pmpdt and I will have to have them investigated for conspiracy and 👀look for who put them up to the negligence. Was it Cano? Was it Brendan Lean? Was it incubus (Adam Noah Levine)? Are we still in denial of god’s existence and going to play this game? Role playing? Or are they going to say it to my face like my aunt? Either way I’m a loser. I lose my bones 🦴 then I’m a loser and I probably did an unnecessary favor for those who don’t deserve it. Nick carter should not go to court. We should let him run free! And find his next victims without impediment? Maybe she will be someone rich 🤑? Maybe he’ll be smart and attack someone he can actually get money 💰 from? You don’t know what you got til it’s gone they paved paradise and put up a parking lot 🎶🎼🎵🎤 6:19 pmpdt

6:23 pmpdt was it only rich women who wore corsets? I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ much. 6:23 pmpdt

[pedropascalsx]

Is that the best that you can do? {Dave York x F! Reader}

Summary: Does Dave keep his promise to return home early if you keep yours of being a good girl?

Warnings: Infidelity, unhappy marriage, Oral (F receiving), female masturbation, Dave being an asshole (in a good way), P in V sex, Creampie, Orgasm denial, restraints, cock-slapping??? (if i’ve missed anything please tell me!) 

Chapter: 3 of the Appreciation Series.

Word Count: 3.8k+

A/N: Unbeta’d - will check for mistakes in the AM. I just wanted it get it out, because I couldn’t stop writing smut. Honestly, this is filthy. Well, I think it’s filthy?

Shout out again to @whataperfectwasteoftime​ @honestly-shite​ & @theewokingdead​ for being my filth enablers!!!! 

**also this tie in this gif... yeah thats the tie!!!!**

The morning he left for his business trip was a busy one, you’d prepared breakfast for the entire household, bathed both girls, dropped them off at school, done one load of laundry and hastily dropped to your knees before he fucked your mouth whilst pressing your head up against the washing machine.

 He had left without a single look back; you’d watched from the window as he placed a quick kiss on his wife's cheek as she chatted to one of the neighbors at the bottom of the drive before he sped off to God knows where.

 The only words he had said to you that whole morning were gritted out as you took him as deep in your throat as you could, his hips thrusting into your mouth at a relentless speed as the washing machine drowned out the sounds of your gagging and his moans. 

 Such a good girl for me. Look at you… always looking so fucking sweet even when you have my cock in your mouth. Take it. Take it all, you filthy little whore. 

 He made you keep his cum in his mouth as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, ordering you to swallow once the grip he had in it had forced you to look up into his eyes as you did so.

 And then he left. With you left wondering if you’d been good enough for him to come back to a day early. Your core clenched at the thought of it: a whole night of him using you however he wanted. The feeling of his fingers buried deep in your cunt the night before still lingering as a shiver ran through you.

 You’d busied yourself with tasks for the rest of the day, running errands for Mrs. York, picking up dry-cleaning, making sure the girls had all of their favorite snacks refilled for their upcoming journey out of state for the wedding, driving an hour back and forth to a shoe store for a particular pair of heels Carol had seen online and was adamant would be the only ones to match the dress she had bought for the wedding and then preparing dinner; before spending the rest of the evening watching shit on Netflix in bed. 

 Sleep came easily. The screen of your television still illuminating your room as you drifted off to sleep. Staying asleep though? That did not happen as easily.

 You’d dreamt of him, you’d dreamt of him taking you, you’d dreamt of feeling his lips crashing against yours and then you dreamt of the fallout. An uneasy feeling building in the pit of your tummy as you imagined what would happen. She had connections, the kind of connections to ensure you’d never work as a Nanny in the DC area again. You stared at the blades of the fan above your head as they rotated steadily, whilst you worked on pushing down those feelings or trying to at least push them away. 

 But ultimately; lines had been crossed. Boundaries no longer existed. And all that you could focus on was the exquisite taste of him overwhelming your senses. You knew it was wrong, you hated yourself for it, but the devil wouldn’t have made paradise so tempting, if the entry was free.

 *

You’re not sure at what point you’d fallen back to sleep, but the abrupt trilling of your phone alarm woke you up with a gasp. The snooze button looked more tempting than ever before but the promise to help pack the car before the girls woke up, looming over you like a storm cloud. 

 After a quick shower and pulling on your favorite sundress you pad downstairs and start fumbling around for her car keys. The house is completely still as you unlock the front door and roll down one of the suitcases waiting by the entry. You make the same trip 4 or 5 times, each time playing a mini game of Tetris as you attempt to fit the absurd amount of bags required to take two small children away for one night. 

 Mrs York doesn’t make an appearance until you’re half-way through making breakfast. She raised an eyebrow at the lack of luggage clogging up her entryway but made no effort to thank you. Instead, just pouring herself a large glass of orange juice and grabbing a notebook and pen from the ‘mess’ drawer behind you.

 “Oh, I have some things I was hoping you’d be able to do whilst we are gone. They’ll be easier to do without the girls begging you to watch Frozen with them for the umpteenth time” she says between taking sips of her juice.

 “Of course.” 

 “I’ll leave the list on the table. The girls aren’t awake yet, so you can go through it whilst I get them dressed.”

 You respond with a slight curl of your lips, maybe not big enough to be considered a smile, but enough to let her know you’re listening. 

 With breakfast plated and the two girls up and sat muttering happily about the matching dresses they’ll be adorning later that day, and enough snacks filling their lunchboxes to feed them for a week; you start to read through your list of tasks.

Washing the curtains in the girls’ rooms, stripping their beds, donating clothes they no longer wore & toys you’d never seen them playing with, making sure to get the laundry hamper from her bedroom which she had underlined multiple times and written the word full next to it in capital letters, a request to vacuum the entire house and a small grocery list.

 iPads in hands, car seats buckled and snacks in hand; you gave both girls a quick kiss and cuddle before waving them off and jumping in your own car and making the short journey to the grocery store - electing to cross this task off the list first to ensure you’d be at home and waiting for the delivery Mrs York had asked you to stay in for.

 One of your favorite things about the York household was the two washing machines. Sure, surprising since they didn’t have a huge family, but the fact they had two made your life a million times easier. Curtains and bedding loaded in one, and clothes to be donated in the other. You start to sort through the large hamper, you’d dragged down rather ungracefully from the master bedroom. 

 Trying to ignore the overwhelming and mouth-watering scent of Daves aftershave coming off of his shirts - being careful to sort through the colorful items and the whites. Making sure they’re ready to load as soon as the current cycles finish. 

 As soon as the next steps in your laundry task had been completed, you vacuumed, loading the bags of unwanted toys into your car; making sure to cover them with a sheet as you wouldn’t be able to drop them off until the next day and didn’t want the inevitable screaming and crying that would come from donating an olaf teddy that had been long forgotten about. 

 The sound of the doorbell ringing early evening was the most welcomed sound you’d heard all day, with the large delivery being carefully placed into the hall and signed for; you could finally breathe a sigh of relief. All tasks with the exception of folding the laundry finally being ticked off. 

 *

 You mindlessly folded each item of clothing, half concentrating on your task, half concentrating on the random TV show playing in the background. Some re-run of a show you’d seen more times than you could count occupying more of your attention than it should have been… until it wasn’t.

 The soft material of the ocean blue shirt he’d worn just a few days earlier, his broad shoulders straining the material in the most delicious way, the slight lingering aroma of his aftershave mixed in with the floral scent from the detergents; you couldn’t resist bringing it to your nose and inhaling. It smelt like him. And it made you ache. It made you throb.

 The last time you’d glanced at your phone had informed you that the likelihood he was making it back was non-existent. And the realization that night had fallen, and you would be alone until the next morning had made you feel a little… bold.

 You stood up from the sofa and took a small step, placing the shirt within arm’s reach before rolling the straps of your dress off of your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor and then you retook the shirt in your hands - taking your time to pull it on and fasten each button, rolling your panties down and stepping out of them before reclaiming your place on the sofa.

 Comfortably spread out; you reached down and ran your fingers through your pussy, your core damp enough with arousal that wetting your fingers was not necessary as you gathered some of your slick and started to circle the bundle of the nerves at the top of your slit.

 *

The TV had long been forgotten about but still blared in the background, loudly enough for you to miss the sound of his car pulling up on to the drive and the sound of the door unlocking and his footsteps approaching. The filthy scene laid out in front of him, you spread out across his sofa, the same sofa he’d been sitting on as you took him in your mouth the first time, wearing his clothes as quiet moans spilled from your lips.

 He could have watched it forever, the way your teeth sunk into your lips as you brought yourself to orgasm, but before he could react, before he could get lost in those delicious sounds, you’d been making, it was over. Your legs had fallen back together, and you’d breathed out an unsatisfied sigh. 

 *

 Sure, it felt good. You were paying attention to that special bundle of nerves that your fingertips had grown to be extremely familiar with, but it wasn’t enough. If you clenched hard enough, it was almost like you could feel his fingers still nestled deeply inside of you; and you’d start to wonder if anything could ever feel as good… although, you hadn’t had his cock yet. You continued rubbing soft circles in your clit, moaning at the memories of his tongue and fingers and your release came flooding through you. But it felt like it was over before it had started, the ache still remained and only a fraction of you felt satisfied and before you could stop it; a sigh of disappointment escaped from your front. 

 And that's when you heard him.

 A small mocking tut and a taunt to boot, “Awww, is that the best you can do?” Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you scrambled to your feet. He’d caught you; he’d watched as you gave yourself a measly orgasm in his clothes, and he responded by taunting you.

 “And you’d been such a good girl for me? What a shame!” he muttered as he dropped his briefcase on the counter and started to remove his coat, “All day I've been thinking about getting home and making you feel good… making you cum but it looks like you’ve already done that. Well, sort of.”

 Your mouth drops open and you begin to explain yourself attempting to inform him that you didn’t think he was going to make it home but before you could start, he raises a finger to his lips and raises his eyebrow in warning.

 “Oh, my sweet girl, you don’t want to get yourself in more trouble here now, do you? I mean I've already caught you fingering that pretty little cunt on my couch, and no-doubt soaking my shirt with your cum… and now you want to run that pretty little mouth? Oh, baby I think not.”

 Your breath hitches and the smirk that spreads across his face tells you he caught it. 

 Every step he takes towards is slow and calculated. His level of restraint is unmatched and when he’s finally in front of you he says nothing. He stares you down for a few moments before dragging a single digit through your slit, and then lifting it to his lips and sucking. 

 “Upstairs. Now.” He orders and a chill runs through you.

 Immediately you obey and you feel him follow just a few steps behind, you want to run to increase a little distance to see how he’d react to you teasing but something tells you it’s not a good idea.

 So, you take each step slowly, remaining silent as you climb the staircase until you feel his hands. Strong and gripping the back of your knees to make you stop moving, and before you can question why you hear him grunt and that’s when it hits you. The view.

 He’s stood a few steps behind you, staring up at you wearing nothing but his shirt and watching as your arousal coats your pussy lips and drips down your thighs. 

 He strong arms you to turn you around, then pushing on your shoulders so you’re spread out in front of him on his staircase as he rips apart your legs.

 He mumbles a silent fuck before burying his face into your cunt. Noisily slurping up your wetness, before lapping at your clit and groaning in delight as your thighs begin to shake and your moans get breathier. Chuckling as the only word you can speak is his name over and over. Two thick fingers are pushed into your heat, and you moan even louder at the welcomed intrusion. And then you feel it building, fireworks being set off in your pleasure centre and just as they’re about to explode and an array of gorgeous colors are about to burst beautifully behind your eyes… he pulls away. 

 The breaks slammed down on your impending orgasm, and you whimper in desperation and soft pleas start to stumble out of your mouth.

 “Aw, poor little baby” he coos mockingly, “tell me this, princess. Even without cumming; what was better? This? Or that lousy little orgasm you gave to yourself a few minutes ago?”

 You groan again slamming your legs together to try and create a little friction so your little bud can have some relief, but he pulls them apart. His strong hands resting on your quivering thighs as he waits for your answer. “This.” You whisper as your eyes find this.

 “Good girl” he replies, “Go upstairs and get onto the bed. Now.”

 You respond with your sweetest smile, and he wordlessly helps you up, you climb the last few stairs and walk over to your room, your fingertips curling around the rounded doorknob ready to push it open and then he stops you.

 “No. MY bed.”

 It shouldn’t have made you clench. It shouldn’t have made you gasp. But it did. A smile spreads across your fast as your fingers uncurl and you walk down to the very end of the hurl, pushing open the door and immediately situating yourself at the bottom of his bed.

 He watches you from the doorway quietly whilst undoing his cufflinks, and you decide to move things further by unbuttoning the shirt you’re draped in but the hitch in his breath warns you that he doesn’t like that.

 “Did I tell you to do that?”

 You shake your head back at him and he orders you to stand.

 “Undress me” he demands as he stands toe to toe with you.

 You immediately comply, your delicate fingers untying the knot in his tie, and before you can drop it to the floor, he rips it from your hands and places it around your neck. You unbutton his shirt as carefully as you can, suppressing the urge to just rip it open and once it’s unbuttoned, he lets it fall off his shoulders and onto the ground.

 You make quick work off his belt, but you take enough time to get the fingertips butterfly out across the leather, your mind running free with filthy fantasies of how one day you could build up to deserve a proper punishment. 

 You unbutton his pants and unzip the zipper before dipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers to bring them both down in one quick sweep, a moan leaves you as you watch his cock spring through, achingly hard, leaking with pre-cum and the head an angry shade of purple as it silently begs for relief.

 You drop to your knees as you pull them off of his legs entirely, and you feel him tug your ponytail back so you’re looking up at him as he steps out of his clothing.

 He strokes himself a few times as you look up at him with a look of need etched across your gentle features and he groans. His free hand comes down to touch the side of your face, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek before he slaps your other one with his cock. He repeats the action a few times and you moan louder with each slap.

 “Fucking filthy, fucking beg for it. Show me how much you want it? I bet you’ll take it wherever I want to give it, won’t you? Fucking tell me!” He gasps out as he resumes his strokes.

 “I want it so fucking badly” you mumble but it’s not enough, the way he shakes his head and raises his brow at you screams that it’s not enough.

 So, you beg harder, you plead harder and just as you think he’s giving you the okay to reach out and take his cock into your hands; he pulls the tie off of your shoulders and binds your hands with it.

 He takes your face in your hands again and says a single word, “Apple.”

 “Apple.” You repeat. A safeword. Your safeword.

 “As soon as any of this gets too much, you say it. I won’t fuck you until you tell me you understand.” He says tightening the grip on your jaw.

 “I understand.” You repeat promptly.

 “Good girl.”

 He hooks his hands under your arms and helps you back upright before pushing you down on the edge of the bed, your legs opening immediately for him as he steps towards you. 

 Two fingers enter you; he pumps them in and out over and over, building you to your crest before snatching them away.

 “This isn’t to make you cum, this is to make sure you’re ready to take my cock” he rasps down at you before you can start to whine, “You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum.”

 His fingers enter you again and he starts to scissor them, occasionally dropping you the occasional praise as your juices coat his fingers, and just when he feels that high building up again, he pulls them out and this time says nothing, he just brings his fingers to your mouth and silently instructs that you suck them clean.

 “Good girl” he says as you hum around his digits, “You taste how fucking delicious you are, baby?”

 He sees it, the glimmer that shoots through your eyes and rumbles through your body as he calls you baby. 

 He checks the knot on your restraints and once he’s satisfied, he speaks the words you’ve been dying to hear all evening, “I think you’re ready.”

 He notches himself at your entrance, and pushes himself in, in one clean motion.

 It stings, you bite down on your lip to stop yourself hissing because it hurts so good, the stretch is un-fucking-describable and the moment he fully inside of you, you gasp out his name in pure bliss.

 Then he starts to move. His pace almost punishing as he slams himself in and out of you, the sound of your moans drowned out by the slapping off his hips into you, “fuck, take it, fucking take it” he repeats over and over as you cry out in pleasure, “such a good fucking girl, looking so fucking pretty all stuffed with my cock.”

 “Dave” you moan as he finds that spongy spot of paradise that lives within you hitting it over and over until you start to clamp down on him and you think he’s going to let you have, it’s seconds away and then he pulls himself out of you.

 “Not fucking yet” he spits before running a finger back through your folds.

 You want to reach out and grab him, but you can’t, so instead you whimper and thrash about in desperation as he watches over you.

 “Please” you beg, “Please, Dave, let me…”

 “Let you what? Let you suck my cock? Let you choke on it?”

 “If that’s what you want…” you reply.

 He grins. Clearly happy with your answer. But he doesn’t speak, he just wordlessly drags his cock through your folds and taps the head of it on your needy clit over and over, smirk at your little gasps.

 “We’ve got all night” he finally replies before grabbing your ankles, pushing your legs up and letting them fall down on his shoulders before burying himself back in you.

 “Let’s make you cum, want to feel you soak my cock, baby” he says with a smirk before pulling out and slamming back into you, “Rub that pretty little clit” he says after loosening the knot slightly, “And you better fucking do it better this time. You don’t treat this perfect pussy right; you don’t get to fucking touch it” he spits as pounds in and out of you.

 Your fingers snaking between you to rub down your clit, the magic starting to build and with it a little anxiety that he’ll pull away again, but you keep rubbing, his eyes burrowing into your eyes as you crest begins to peak, an endless streams of “Dave” falling from the lips he’s desperate to taste.

 “I can feel it, fuck, squeeze my fucking cock baby, fuck soak me” he orders, and you come apart underneath him, pleasure ripping throughout you as he continues pounding in and out of you, his words becoming incoherent as the only thing you can concentrate on is your pleasure. It goes on and on and on. The sound of his grunts fill the room as he paints your walls with his cum, thrusting deeper and deeper whilst repeating something about fucking it so deep into you, it’ll be dripping out of you for days.

 The moment you return to earth, he does it. The one thing you’d wondered if he’d ever do.

 His mouth slams against yours, his tongue immediately pushing between your lips, and you moan into his.

 It’s not until your hands grip either side of his face as he continues to keep you deeply, that you realize they’ve been unrestrained.

And that the promise of having ‘all night’ really hits you.