#In Essence

[ineffablelunatics]

Crowley chose to make a statement with his outfit when he goes to investigate Heaven. Crowley has always cared about what he looks like. He always tries to fit in with the humans that he is around. There are times when he misses the mark like in Rome. But in Heaven, all of the changes he makes have a purpose. It’s a drastic difference to his normal clothes. Almost all of it changes. He changes his hair. He paints his nails gold even adds a gold tooth. His snake tattoo, a symbol that defines who he is, he covers with a sticker. All of the changes are telling a story to any angel who dares to look closely at the demon in midst

The most basic of changes tell the angels what he thinks about them. He makes his normal outfit light in color to blend in. His hair is no longer styled, but pushed out of his face. He’s wearing white flip-flops. He makes it look like he’s the CEO who’s pissed off that he had to come in on his vacation. The entire outfit is lounge wear. He’s telling them what he thinks about them. Even though, they are supposed to be good and fighting evil, they really aren’t. They are never shown making a good difference to the world, besides Azirphale, who Crowley has always separated from the heavenly bureaucracy. A golden tooth is seen as a symbol of wealth, but it also is a symbol of status. There are places where healthy teeth have been shaven down to cover a heathy tooth to show wealth and status. Almost like angels who cared were wore away to nothing to their status. Worn down to only care about their status.

The Serpent of Eden... Crowley’s tattoo always makes itself known. If his sideburns are longer, the snake moves out from under them. When he goes into Heaven, he covers it with an identical, but gold sticker. It seems as though Crowley can’t change the tattoo or just miracle it away. The snake refuses to be hidden or changed. Crowley refuses to be hidden or changed. He uses the glasses in the same way. Dark glasses in Heaven would be suspicious since they avoid any dark colors in their outfits since the demons do the opposite. He could have tried contacts, but he chose rose-colored glasses. Dark enough to slightly cover his eyes upon a quick glance. “When you look at some through rose-colored glasses all the red flags just look like flags.” (Bojack Horseman) Instead of making his glasses opaque and hiding the snake somehow, Crowley lets the angels know who he is. He makes sure that any angel who walks by and looks through his rose colored glasses will notice that his eye have slits. If they just pay attention, they’ll notice that the serpent of Eden is in Heaven and he’s doing what he always does: asking questions. He shows them that there is a murder hornet in their hive. Because there’s one thing that Crowley will never be again, can never be again, doesn’t even want to be again, and that’s another bee. 

But what does that have to do with the watch? The watch is the one thing that he doesn’t change at all. That is the one thing that didn’t change in the Fall. He never lost his connection to time. He never lost that ability. It was the one major part of who he was that was the same as the angel he was before. A serpent who still knew how to manipulate them. So he doesn’t change the watch, because that ability, manipulating the sands of time that was so vital in creating the stars, was not taken away him when the rest of his divinity was.

So when Crowley waltzes back into Heaven, he tells them. He shows everything off. He tells them exactly who he is, if only they’d get over their own hypocrisy to look close enough. He wears clothes that look like theirs except its ‘lounge’ wear to show that he thinks they’re lazy. He wears his glasses but he makes them sheer enough so that an angel could still see his eyes. He puts a golden identical snake sticker over his tattoo so that would know that he was there still. He leaves his watch black. The one part of him that is truly his that he never questioned. That part of him that was a birthright that was not taken away and that Hell could never say they owned. The one piece of himself that was never manipulated. Even when he goes back into the place that abandoned him, he refuses to let himself, even if it’s just a disguise, be truly changed.

[todayisafridaynight]

[ inspo'd by @mementoasts ' comic here ]

[demonicfarmer69]

no wonder that lemon tasted extra sour >:T

[eighthdoctor]

-turns up 5 years late with a genderfeels fic-

[ae-neon]

rewrite drabble for practice because I've forgotten how to write 😕

☆

Farrow, or what was left of it, sat almost half a day's ride north of Ironhill.

From what Nesta had told her, there'd once been a dozen hamlets between the Gates and the ancient fortress their town had grown around. Feyre had ventured deep enough into the Blackwood and seen the remains of long abandoned strongholds to know it was true.

But this...

All around her evidence of the people of Farrow persisted in visceral detail: their clothes and blood, their broken and torn bodies, their still smoking homes. So different from the stone shells littered in the forest, from the faceless ghosts of the past.

Bile rose in her throat. Next to her Isaac eased his own nausea, drawing a deep, shaky breath. Neither of them could afford to show weakness under Nolan's hawkish gaze.

They'd been the ones to bring forward the old man whose head wound was bleeding through his makeshift wrappings.

"A survivor," Lord Nolan said.

"By the Mercy of the Nameless," Mayor Beddor breathed and in contrast to Nolan, dismounted his horse to grasp the old man by the arm and shoulder, steadying his frail frame, "Tell us what you saw, sir."

The old man's mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, like the words struggled to journey from his mind to his lips. Feyre had seen her father do the same during his bad spells, had seen Elain patiently coax the words from him, sometimes carrying on one-sided conversations simply so he was not ignored.

Nolan had no such patience. "Speak." He commanded.

The old man found his voice, body trembling, "F-f-fae. Mon-monsters, sir. Ca-Came down the mountain...in, in, in the night."

Mayor Beddor, still half cradling the man, glanced at Nesta, still atop her horse. She met his gaze with equal measure.

Feyre had some idea of the delicate balance the Mayor had been trying to keep between the nobles and trade merchants for control of Ironhill.

As an recruit, and more importantly as someone without the means to warrant importance, Feyre felt her own position was clear. Under the guard, Nolan would give her a gun and with it she would earn enough not to just put clothes on their backs and food in their bellies but enough for paint and paper, enough that she and Nesta might build a dowry for Elain.

Which made Nesta's ambivalence all the more frustrating, still uselessly clinging to some notion of aristocracy, a long gone idea of wealth and the hope of something more.

Hope, a cold bitterness gripped Feyre as her eyes once again took in the ruins of Farrow, what a foolish thing.

-

In the beginning of acotar it's said that Fae come through the Wall and wipe out whole villages overnight. This raises some serious questions for me but fuck it, let's humor the idea.

[fluffatron9001]

collection of starscreams

i hate digital art fr

[nezumylove]

i can't believe i'm doing a book review... well, it's sort of anyway. and i only have negative things to say about this never mind! it turned out to be a rant

it was in my recommendations since i read and liked FitA and forbidden, both of which i enjoyed and were well-written

brother/sister by sean olin just read like mad ramblings, and i could never get attached to any of the characters, especially the two main characters- ashley and will

while i could sympathize with them, they were both just very unlikable and i wish to get the 24 hrs of my life back that i wasted on reading this book.

on top of the subpar plot and characterizations, i really disliked the narrative style. this may sound like a minor issue, or me being petty, but honestly, i couldn't go one sentence without cringing. prior to reading this, i didn't know that a narrative style could be such a squick for me lol i don't know if that's this author's signature style, or if they dropped the ball on this trying to write teens coming from a broken family. in either case, i'm not planning on reading anything else from this author

[qourmet]

guess who's doing another fucking meme cos im a sucker for pain in more ways than one, apparently

[todayisafridaynight]

reconnaissance

[prequel]

[lucidloving]

Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena // Alain de Botton, Essays in Love // Eden Robinson, "Writing Prompts for the Broken-Hearted" // Chloe Liese, Always Only You // Anne Carson and Euripides, An Oresteia // Two—Sleeping At Last // Studio Bones, SK8 the Infinity // Trista Mateer, "is it okay to say this?" // @moodylilac // D. H. Lawrence, "The Rainbow"

[anotherlov3r]

things I have started doing lately make me feel safe and loved:

- naps. just sleeping when I’m tired instead of forcing myself to push through

- having a hot chocolate and my favorite biscuit before bed

- acknowledging when people hurt or upset me > giving myself the space and time to feel those emotions > treating them with patience instead of working myself into a state of frustration and resentment (even when that would be justified)

- when i feel triggered; just sitting in that emotion for a while

- eating when I am hungry and stopping when I am full

- making myself lovely meals

- giving myself little treats where I can

- becoming someone I can trust and rely on. For example I’ve promised myself that I will always treat myself with love and compassion no matter what happens. No matter how much I’ve fucked up, how impressive others find me, how scared or insecure I am: I will be there for myself. Lovingly and compassionately. Ready to hold space for and love myself. It might take me a while to respond in this way but I know with certainty that this is how I will show up for myself eventually.

- a lot of the above looks like having clear boundaries with myself:

> when I am in an intense period of focusing day after day I set clear boundaries that prevent my focus on a task from becoming unhealthy or debilitating

>I DO NOT do things that I TRULY don’t want to do. This doesn’t mean that I avoid doing things that are boring, tedious or challenging. In fact I embrace those things and complete them more successfully than I have in the past. This means that when I feel negative affect towards an activity I become curious about those emotions. How do I feel? What exactly am I feeling ? Let myself feel it for as long as the situation allows. What do I need? Am I sick, tired, sleep deprived? Do I need to reassure myself that I can do challenging things? Do I need to rely on a friend or other resource for help? Is there a way I can make this task more enjoyable if it’s something I’ve decided I need or want to do?

>I DO NOT harm myself intentionally or without reason. I ask for help and lean on others when need be. I DO NOT call myself rude names or engage in negative self talk.

> I invest in my health and my future to the best of my abilities.

> I DO NOT consistently sacrifice my own basic well being for the comfort of others.

> I DO allow myself to make as many mistakes as humanly possible. I do not shame myself for failure or making mistakes. I encourage myself to perform to the best of my ability and fulfill my potential.

- aiming to exercise five times a week

- appreciating the good qualities of others and acknowledging them where I can

- acknowledging the good work I have done or effort I have put into things

- speaking to myself and others with kindness

- voicing how I feel about things more often instead of staying quiet

-having fun

[thornsent]

if you were a deity, what would you be the god of

[dental1234]

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[deadeery]

whips my neck so fast u hear an audible crack. did someone say dungeon meshi