#soo normal

adam who knows the door is wide open, knows he could leave at any point, knows that lawrence wouldn’t stop him, couldn’t stop him and yet. and yet .. adam who looks at the fresh crimson stain on lawrence’s shirt collar, the red beneath his nails he hasn’t quite managed to scrub away yet and wonders if there’s any universe in which he’d run to the cops, to anyone. adam who knows there isn’t. lawrence wouldn’t stop him but adam wouldn’t run. adam who despises everything jigsaw stands for, tells lawrence as much, tells lawrence that he’s gonna be the first to dance on that bastards grave when he finally kicks it but who still stays with lawrence. despite it all. because he’s lawrence, because he’s adam’s. because they’re so inextricably intertwined that not having lawrence around now would kill him as surely as reaching inside and pulling out his own beating heart. he’s everywhere and he’s everything, living in the spaces between adam’s ribs and wrapped around his brain like a live wire. running would be suicide and besides, adam’s not gonna let him go, can’t. not now. adam who would absolve lawrence of just about anything as long as he’s by his side, as long as he keeps coming back, as long as he switches the light on when he gets home and cups adam’s face oh so gently in bloodstained hands

i see your “do you think jesus son of a carpenter smelt the wood of the cross and thought of home” and raise you this question: did jesus prepare for his death with the hope that, like isaac, God would interrupt his sacrifice?

Me and Jackie Subwayfootlong are being soo normal about ctubbo in dms