#and then they kiss and make up

[insanity-laughs-under-pressure]

Thinking about what would happen if Crowley got written out of the book of life.

Crowley helped create the universe so automatically loads of stars wouldn't exist. He promoted literature and art - there would be no Shakespeare or Mona Lisa's. He created selfies, the M25, many things that we find inconvenient but would be lost without.

He tempted Eve with the fruit of knowledge, would that still have happened in that way if a different demon was sent?

I would assume that Aziraphale would have been demoted to staying in heaven, after all, Crowley wouldn't have been there to sympathise over the whole giving away his flaming sword thing, and I don't think Aziraphale would have been as confident in his actions had Crowley not been there to say "oh you're and angel, I don't think you can do the wrong thing".

The apocalypse would have happened because even if Aziraphale was on Earth he wouldn't have wanted to intervene with the Great Plan (regardless of the ineffable plan).

So many things would be completely different if Crowley was never there to just casually cause mild amounts of chaos.

In s3 I reckon the Metatron could/should write Crowley out of existence because then we would see how completely different the universe would be. Aziraphale would have to defy this and remember Crowley, purely because pretty much everything that makes Aziraphale Aziraphale has in some way been influenced by something Crowley has done. And then we would get to see Aziraphale do some insane off the lazari chart miracle, in order to will Crowley back into existence.

[sea-side-spectre]

I might draw this out later

BUT just in case

im just gonna assume that the events IMMEDIATELY after beyond/when herbert breaks out of prison are as follows:

[Dan, entering the house- assuming he still lives at the mortuary- Seeing Herbert already have made himself at home, again]

" ...Herbert?"

[Herbert sorting through papers and such, sitting on the couch]

"Daniel! Just the man I wanted to see! [He stands to face Dan] We have lots to discuss-"

"Wh- I- what are you doing here? It's been AGES-! I-I thought the state sentenced you to life?!"

"ah, yes.. I got released early for... good behavior. Good behavior can get you anywhere, Dan."

[Herbert pats Dan's shoulders, to reassure him nothing is wrong]

"However, I suggest you do not refer to me as 'Herbert' when in public. I will be going by 'Howard Phillips' from now on and-"

"God, Herbert.. [He pinches the bridge of his nose] When does it end with you?!"

"Excuse me?"

"Your Work! We've been through Hell and Back for YOUR Work- EVERYTHING- ALL OF THIS!! GOING TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH JUST FOR ALL OF THAT WORK TO END LIKE THAT-?! FOR IT ALL TO LITERALLY CRUMBLE DOWN ON US?! FOR ALL OF THAT TO HAPPEN AND- And- [He pauses, taking a breath to calm himself] and It's all too much, Herbert.."

"Well.. [He Pauses, taking a breath] At least I know how to keep myself calm under the pressure.. unlike yourself Dr. Cain.."

[Herbert pauses, Eying Dan's face- reminiscing, his lips pucker into a frown]

"But, Don't act like you're some innocent bystander. You've been apart in all of my experiments. Your name is as good as on the papers alongside Mine-"

"I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS RESEARCH ANYMORE- I'M TIRED OF THESE GAMES HERBERT!!"

[Herbert takes a step back from the volume increase. He furrows, getting upset]

"After everything we've been through- After all that I GAVE to you"

"I'VE GOTTEN NOTHING FROM THIS-!"

"I GAVE YOU MY HEA-"

[Herbert stops himself. Furrowed brows and a frown. He blows out a breath]

"I gave you Meg's Heart.."

[Herbert fixes his tie, eyeing the floor. a bit flushed]

"West.."

[Dan steps towards Herbert. Herbert Recoils back. Moments pass, standing in silence, Dan hold out his arms in a defeated manner. He steps forward to embrace Herbert. Herbert takes a few steps back, unsure on what Dan is planning. Once Dan's arms wrap around Herbert's frame, He squirms a bit. Easing in Dan's Arms]

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[incredubious]

MODERN AU ACESAN !!!! first impressions with a guy who barely passes the No Shoes No Shirt No Service rule

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[hinamie]

quick itfs sketch page

[willgrahamscock]

Honestly one of the cruelest things Erik did to Charles was pause after saying Angel. You can see the anger fade immediately, he thinks for a moment that Erik is meeting him with love and gentleness. It anchors him, he stops to really look at him. Eyes to lips. For a moment he thought Erik called him Angel.

And he’s throughly confused why Erik is listing names after. I’m going to be sick.

[nyerusnova]

yeah... things are pretty yikes right now in the current batfam storyline,

but at least Tim is rocking those thigh-high boots and I just wanted to appreciate that for a sec

[kenneth-black]

There is just something so inherently intimate about Buck looking up at Eddie with so much fondness 🥹

[yeyinde]

waking up after a night out drinking in a foreign country only to realise that the bed you're in is not your own. no one is beside you. you try to leave but the doors are all locked. the windows won't open. you're trapped. a pretty bird in a cage.

nothing is in the dressers except large, old shirts. the clothes you were wearing when you woke up disappear after you take a shower. no panties. no bra. food shows up on schedule. you never see who leaves it.

they don't answer when you scream. when you bang your fists against the door until they're bloodied. passing out on the floor when the drugs finally kick in. but the mess you make in the daytime is cleaned up. your hands bandaged. disapproval heavy in the air along with the stale scent of tobacco. smoke.

when you're good, you get things. books. magazines. treats. your favourite food. a laptop arrives when you sob yourself to sleep after screaming yourself hoarse about loneliness, and how this isn't right. this isn't okay. it's restricted, of course. you log into Facebook but the moment you try and ask for help, the internet is turned off. you're being watched. monitored closely.

you learn your lesson slowly, giving nothing away to your family and pretending you're enjoying your holiday. being good. quiet.

instead of treats, gifts, recipe books arrive—some pages dogeared. you start making the food. leaving a plate in the fridge. it's gone the next morning. more recipes appear. you make them, too. an expensive chain comes next. a pretty gold necklace for a pretty bird in a golden cage.

(each meal gets you a strange rash on your cheek, jaw the next morning. beard burn, you think, and try not to shudder.)

lingerie comes after. silk, lace. all of it fits perfectly. you try to avoid it. the idea, the implication, is a knife between your ribs, but the next morning, your laptop is missing. the books are gone. food, too. your clothes disappear until all that remains is the lingerie set and a little black box. one you pointedly ignore. throw out with the trash. chew on gum to make the ache in your belly go away until that vanishes too.

your world is narrowed down to hunger. loneliness. isolation—

(in the corner of the rooms, a red light glints in the dark. lonely, but not alone.)

it persists until you relent. give in. another lesson you learn. you wear the set to bed, and try to think nothing of it—

you wake up to something heavy around you. a warm, thick body pressed against your bare spine. coarse chair tickling the skin between your shoulder blades. a burly arm under your neck, elbow bent to wrap a rough hand around your neck. the other slung over your hip, shoved between your thighs. something hard presses into your ass. a bruising pressure. it aches. you stifle a gasp, but with his long, thick fingers wrapped tight around your throat, he feels it.

everything goes still. quiet. just the faint rustle of sheets. the scratch of coarse hair on silk. a breath. you tremble. fight back another gasp when lips press into your crown with a sharp inhale. scenting you. nuzzling into your scalp. warm breath that smalls of malt and honey. woodsy. tobacco.

your eyes adjust slowly to the dark, and fall on a black box left on top of your end table. velvet, you know. you've felt the softness between your fingers when you threw it in the trash with a sob. no escaping it, after all.

the hand between your thighs twitches. when he speaks, it shudders through your spine, makes your hair stand on end. it's a growling purr. the low roar of an old engine. more grit than comfort in the midnight dark.

"jus' close your eyes, love," he rasps, pushing his thick body tighter against you. coiling around you like a big, hungry bear. "an' go back to sleep for me."

and you do.

[jadeluz-official]

"𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆."

[passerinesoncaffeine]

I’M SORRY. WHAT

Achilles writing the codex:

[codecicle]

Heres what charlie put in his zip bomb from the latest video!!

[mayhasopinions]

cinematic parallels or something

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Kiss Kiss Fallen Tree!

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