aylacaleashantie

[aylacaleashantie]

I have got to remember to try this!

Important rules/tips I've learned as an adult that helped with anxiety

If people are mad at you, it's their responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

If they're mad at you in secret anyways, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

If people don't like what you're doing, it's their responsibility to tell you

If they say it's fine when it's really not, they're the ones in the wrong, not you

People are allowed to be wrong about you

If they are wrong about you, wait for them to bring it up, because if you try to, you will inevitably overcorrect

Some people are committed to misunderstanding you. You will not win arguments against them. Yes, even if you explain your point of view. They do not care. Drop it

The worst thing that will happen from a first-time offense is being told not to do it again. Maybe with a replacement if you broke something

You can improve relationships and gauge willingness to talk to you by giving compliments. It's like a daily log-in bonus and nobody thinks twice about it

Most things are better after you sleep on them

Most things are better after you have a meal

Most things are better after you shower

Your brain makes up consequences that are irrational. If the worst DOES come to pass and someone acts like they do in your head, they are overreacting, and you are entitled to say "what the fuck"

If your chest hurts after you feel like you've made a social error, that's called rejection-sensitive dysphoria. It means your anxiety is so bad that it's causing you physical pain, which is a good indicator that you're overreacting. Tense yourself, hold it for 20 seconds, let it go, then find a distraction

If you're suddenly angry at someone after you feel like you made a social error, that's also rejection-sensitive dysphoria. You are going to feel annoyed about it for awhile, but being genuinely pissed off is your anxiety trying to find something to blame to take the responsibility off your shoulders, and getting scared because it can't justify itself. Deep breaths, ask yourself how much you ACTUALLY want to be angry at that person, then find a distraction

"Sour grapes" is more healthy for you than stewing. Deciding you don't like someone who's perpetually annoyed with you, won't talk to you, etc. makes letting go of anxiety over them easier

If people don't like you, they will find reasons to be annoyed with you when they otherwise wouldn't. If people do like you, they will find reasons NOT to be annoyed with you when they otherwise would. People do not ping-pong between the two

You DO have to make a conscious choice not to think about something. If you're having trouble circling back to it, say out loud that you're done thinking about it and why. Then find a distraction

When you're upset, part of you is going to want to make false bids for attention (suddenly texting differently, heavy sighs, etc. but when someone asks you about it, you tell them it's nothing). Do not listen to it. You gain nothing from it except more misery

People like to help people they care about. It makes them feel good about themselves

If you think you're insufferable for needing help, see above. Yes, really. They get a serotonin kick from it

If you think you're insufferable for mannerisms you have, you either have to consciously choose not to do them, or accept that they're part of the package that comes with you. Being apologetic about existing does nothing except make you more miserable

If you do things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it makes it easier to do them when you hate it

If you avoid things you don't like when you feel meh about it, it reinforces and magnifies how bad it feels when you hate it

Seriously. Read those last two points again. If you can make yourself make a phone call when you've got nothing to lose, you will slowly lose that panic you get when you have to make a phone call you haven't prepared for. You do have to CONSCIOUSLY take that step

Hobbies that make you care for something get rid of that nagging feeling that you're not doing enough. Go grow some rosemary

If you don't engage with your hobbies regularly, you will feel miserable, and anxiety will spike

Hobbies are things that give you a bit of happiness. They do not have to be organized or named to do that. Go be creative in something. Play with coins. Make up lists. Start a new WIP

No one cares what you look like

If people point out things they don't like about how you look unprompted, they are being rude. You are entitled to say "what the fuck"

People who like you will find you pretty to some degree. Minor things about your appearance go completely unnoticed. Literally, scars and dots and blemishes do not register to someone who likes your company

You looking at yourself in the mirror is 10x more closely than anyone is going to look at you

If you're anxious about your body type, and you're creatively inclined, make/write an oc with that same shape. Give them nice things and make other characters love them. Put them on adventures. You'll start to see yourself in the mirror more kindly

You care about wording and perfect lines/colors way more than anyone who views your work ever will

Sometimes when you're upset, you're going to feel like not eating. Do not do that. Not eating makes you more miserable

Same with things you normally enjoy. Denying yourself helps no one. You are punishing yourself for being sad. Stop it

Both of these will take conscious decision to break the habit of. Make yourself do it anyways, and it will slowly get easier

And again, to reiterate: If someone is mad at you, it is THEIR responsibility to tell you, not your responsibility to guess

[aylacaleashantie]

Update on fanfic

I had plans to update the fanfic last weekend. And I am so sorry for not updating my fan fiction (last weekend). I've had a friend (more like one of my soul sisters) pass away, and I need time to grieve. Thank you for understanding, I will hopefully write this weekend. We shall see.

[aylacaleashantie]

some people think writers are so eloquent and good with words, but the reality is that we can sit there with our fingers on the keyboard going, “what’s the word for non-sunlight lighting? Like, fake lighting?” and for ten minutes, all our brain will supply is “unofficial”, and we know that’s not the right word, but it’s the only word we can come up with…until finally it’s like our face got smashed into a brick wall and we remember the word we want is “artificial”.

[aylacaleashantie]

Tattoo ideas

Good Omens tattoo flash sheet!

Designs inspired by the Ineffable Husbands duality, including my take on the iconic good omens tattoo: the flaming sword + snake! and a couple of hands of god, playing her ineffable game with the universe.

If you are interested in getting one tattooed, by all means, do it! (and consider making a donation to my Ko-fi)

[aylacaleashantie]

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Look buddy, i’m just trying to make it to Friday.

[aylacaleashantie]

have got to give this a try when I get stuck.

[aylacaleashantie]

Yes please!

Good Omens would be so perfect for an annual Christmas special. Even after the show ends after S3. They could just drop a minisode that's a either flashback from the past or Crowley & Aziraphale in the South Downs in the future. New Good Omens every year on Christmas Day...

[aylacaleashantie]

Not tumblr famous, but I am definitely gay and tired.

reblog if you’re NOT tumblr famous, but you ARE tired and kinda gay

[aylacaleashantie]

Hilarious!

season 1 vs season 2

[aylacaleashantie]

This is also awesome advice!

Hello Neil,i know you have 120k asks, so you will never see this, but genuinely, how do i start writing? I know it probably sounds silly to you, but I am 15 and already feel behind. I want to be a writer, I have loved reading ever since I read Coraline at 9 and have always wanted to do something creative with my life and to be an author just feels so fitting for me,I just don't know how to do it I guess. I keep trying but it always turns out bad,I don't even know where to beigin and how to pace the story or do anything really.I write short fanfics sometimes and when i go back to read them they are just objectively bad. I know what I do and dont like in stories,I just can't seem to accomplish what I want when I try to write it. And I do have so many ideas, but it never goes anywhere, and I can't put the words on the page. I know improving takes time but I just wish I had some guidance on how to improve(English is my third language so I probably made mistakes, I apologize )

You sound a lot l would have done at the age of 15, had I been articulate enough for anything like that. At the age of 15 or I knew was that I really wanted to be a writer and that I wanted to write and draw comics one day. I had some ideas that would turn out to be good ideas 15 years later or 25 years later but at that time they were just ideas and I didn't know how to make them into stories.

The most important thing you can do is to keep writing. The second most important thing you can do is to live and learn and experience the world and accumulate a store of things that you have to say and things that you need to write about.

[aylacaleashantie]

note to self, this is awesome advice! Write this down!!!

Hello, sir! I'm annotating and interpreting one of your poems, "Conjunctions", for an assignment. Do you have any advice on how to go about dissecting this work, or poems in general? Thanks much. :)

Read it silently to yourself. What's it about?

Then read it aloud. What do the sounds do? What kind of verse is it? Are there things the words do when spoken aloud that you weren't expecting?

What's the overall effect of the poem? How do the things in the poem add up to create that effect? Where were you at the start of the poem? Where did it leave you?

What do you think it was about?

[aylacaleashantie]

This is just a quick note that I finally have my AO3. Here is the link

[aylacaleashantie]

Chapter 4 You're my star

Crowley set his glass on the coffee table, and for the first time, ever Crowley didn’t fight the tears. He let them fall. There was no history, books or any information on - hybrids such as his daughter. This was one instance he actually wanted the angel here. He could document and gather information on Angel Demon hybrids. There were many thoughts going through his head. Like what color Ayla’s wings would be. What powers did she have. And most importantly, how in the name of Satan were they going to rescue Azriaphale. 

Ayla raised her head and looked at her father. She wanted to know more about her mother, but thought that was a conversation for later. She didn’t have any notion of how they would save Azriaphale, she honestly didn’t believe in heaven in the sense of the Christian religion. And honestly she wasn’t religious, more spiritual in nature. She wondered where she fit into the grand scheme of things, but with some things she knew better than to question it. “So.” Ayla started to say but then stopped. She sensed something, and wondered if Crowley could as well. “You have a visitor.” she said calmly. Crowley turned his head to look at her and pushed out his demonic aura, to sense if anyone demonic or Angelic were in the building. Sure enough, he felt them enter the building. 

This was one instance he wished he had more holy water. “Crowley.. I know you’re in there. Peek a boo.” Crowley sighed and stood and went to open the door. “Lady Shax. To what do I owe the honor?” Shax stepped into the room and sensed Ayla’s uniqueness, and stretched out her hand. “Well well Crowley. Who is this?” She smiled and walked over to Ayla. “No one of importance.” Crowley lied. He had to protect his daughter. “Just a - “ He was cut off by Shax “abomination?” Shax filled in, her smile growing wider. “I wonder… what hell would think if I inform them that - “No.” Ayla said firmly. The power she held in her voice over Shax was overwhelming. “You will not whisper a word of this, to anyone.” She commanded. Ayla took her outstretched hand and shook it. 

Shax fell to her knees as tears started to stream down her face. Ayla was Shax’s light in the dark. Her star, her guide, her love. It overwhelmed her. She didn’t know or think a demon could feel like this, and it scared her. Crowley took in the sight of Lady Shax on her knees, crying. Crowley’s eyebrows raised in question. “What’s -“ he started to question but Shax interrupted him. “She’s my star, my light in the dark, my guide. My reason -“ she stopped. She thought Crowley got what she meant. Ayla stooped to her level and placed a kiss on her forehead, and smiled. Shax beamed at her “What’s your name Angel?’ she asked with love (or what she assumed it was) in her voice. Ayla, continued to smile as she replied “Ayla”. Shax closed her eyes, as if she was committing Ayla’s voice to memory. “Ayla.” Shax replied back, tasting it on her tongue. “What a beautiful, lovely name. For my star.” Ayla turned her head and gave Crowley a confused look, to which he shrugged his shoulders. “Just go with it.” He seemed to indicate. “We need to hide, my star.” Shax said with determination in her voice. Crowley noticed Shax was looking at him and he nodded. “Yes, we do. My daughter’s protection is of utmost importance.” 

“Your daughter?” Shax questioned concern appearing for the briefest of seconds before she looked at Ayla and smiled. Ayla planted another kiss to her forehead. Shax caressed Ayla’s face. She couldn’t help it. “You’re going to be the death of me, my star.” and Shax leaned in to kiss Ayla on the lips. Crowley was reminded of his first (and only) kiss to Azriaphale. The sort of tug of war, they played. Crowley turned his head “Well, I’m gonna need another drink.” he announced and went to grab his glass from the coffee table and get more Whiskey. When he came back he noticed that they were separated. Shax was standing next to Ayla, who was back to sitting on the couch. “Maybe this will work.” He thought and continued musing “maybe Shax will help us save Azriaphale.”

[aylacaleashantie]

Chapter 3 You're what now?!

Throughout the rest of the day Crowley went about his business, he would occasionally check in on Ayla, when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. It was actually this last check in time, he actually stopped inside the doorway. He noticed Ayla deep in thought, she was biting her lip and rubbing her neck. Was she anxious, nervous? “Whatcha pouring over? Maybe I can help?” He went and sat on the edge of the bed and peered at the paper she was concentrating on. It read:

Name of Child: Ayla Cale Ashantie

Sex: Female

It appeared to Crowley to be a Birth record. “Ok Totally ordinary.” He thought as he continued to scan the paper, his face paled.

Mother: Azira Fell

Father: A. Crowley

“Wait. What?!” he growled outloud. “YOU mean to tell me Azriaphale, the archangel, is your mother! How is that possible!” He shouted. Rage was overtaking him. It wasn’t Ayla’s fault, she was innocent. His jaw clenched as smoke plumed around him. Ayla jumped off the bed.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you! My mother is Azira last name Fell. I don’t know this Azriaphale, you speak of.” Ayla growled out. “Count to ten, that’s what humans do.” He said to no one in particular. He glanced at the paper again. Under father it read A. Crowley. He frowned. Was this some kind of joke? Angels and Demons couldn’t - he stopped that thought. The proof was standing on the other side of the bed, so somehow - he stopped that train of thought as well. This was way more then he could handle right now. He needed a stiff drink. Crowley gave Ayla a look that told her to follow him, and surprisingly she did, without force. 

The smoke was almost misty by the time he reached his alcohol stand. He poured himself a Talisker and proceeded to drink it, not savoring it at all. He poured another round and moved to the front room, where he miracled a black suede couch. “Sit” he commanded. And, Ayla did but as far away from him as she could. After awhile he sighed, the last tendrils of misty smoke floated away. “Apparently, I’m -“ he stopped. He never in a million billion years ever thought that he would be actually saying these words. He started again, rubbing his neck as he did so. “Apparently I’m your father. It makes sense - at least as far as names go. I’m the only A. Crowley, have been for the last ninety four years give or take. But there is more." He paused to wipe at a stray tear before continuing. “ Since you are my child it means that we need to save Azriaphale from heaven.”  His voice cracked and he was overcome with emotion. He was looking at his child. His and Azriaphale’s. Ayla’s head was spinning, this was a lot to take in. She watched as her father started to cry. The tears coming unbidden. Ayla scooted closer to her father and rested her head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. We’ll Save’m.”

[aylacaleashantie]

Chapter 2 Blood Trauma

Crowley fought the memories flooding him, but to no avail. It looked like he was fighting his own secret war. Ayla knew what that was like. The situations may have been different, but nonetheless having flashbacks (at least for her) was never fun. After she finished her croissant she wiped her mouth and hands with a napkin and took a couple calming breaths. She tentatively reached out a hand and laid it on top of Crowley’s and slowly ran her thumb across his skin. Normally Crowley hated touch, but he felt his misery vanish. Ayla didn’t say anything but her face seemed to speak volumes. Her eyebrows were raised almost as if she was asking “Is that better?” Crowley slowly smiled at her and nodded his approval. “Thanks kid. But how’d you do that?” Ayla smirked “Your guess is as good as mine. I just know how it feels, to have unwanted memories flood and overwhelm you.” Crowley nodded in understanding. Crowley took his espresso and drank it, forthwith and slightly slammed the cup on the table making Ayla jump and remove her hand from his. “Well I hate to run, but I’ve got th-“ Crowley stopped talking. He could hear Azriaphale’s voice in his head to not let this girl out of his sight. His teeth clenched as he sent a silent fuck you to the universe, complete with imaginary flipping of the bird. He smiled at this for a second, and took a breath in.

As he did so, he smelled both Angelic and Demonic essence. He looked around trying to find the source of it, besides Muriel. He didn’t find anyone else except - Crowley looked at Ayla “You’ve got both Demon and Angel flowing through those veins of yours. How is that possible?” He growled. and thought back to Gabriel and Beelzebub. He would have to ponder this more later. Right now, he had to think of a way to hide the kid from both sides. If either of them found out about her, she was (quite literally) doomed. His thoughts raced with every possible solution but each one he rejected. He just didn’t fully trust anyone else to watch her. “Come on, You’re staying with me, at my place.” Ayla gave him a confused look and didn’t move from her seat. “If I have to pick you up and carry you, I will. Move. Now!” He ground out somewhat harsher than he anticipated. Ayla sprang to her feet and followed him out and to the Bentley. She ran her hand on the roof and smiled. “Get in Angel.” and he scowled at himself. It was a slip. But if Ayla did notice, she didn’t pay it any mind and got in. Crowley started the car and Queen came bursting to life over the stereo. Crowley then sped out of the business section of Soho and sped off to Mayfair. 

Once they were there, Crowley got out and opened the passenger side door. It was an old and very hard habit to break. Once the Bentley was squared away he closed the door and noticed it trying to hop the curb to follow Ayla. “Stop that.” He chided to the Bentley. The Bentley complied but he swore he could hear it do its version of a whimper. He slightly scowled at the Bentley but then remembered Ayla had no notion of where she was going, so he hopped to it and opened the door to the building for her and led her to his flat. He kicked open the door and turned to Ayla “ Do you enter this flat, owned by the demon Crowley, of your own freewill?” Ayla looked at him slightly confused but nodded. Crowley nodded back and stepped aside so she could enter. He felt the demonic ward shift and adjust to a new occupant. “Spare bedrooms off to -“ “The left?” Ayla said smiling. “How did -“ he thought but only nodded. “Well, make yourself at home.” he said watching Ayla take everything in. The flat was sparse but she could tell that a lot of thought went into its furniture and layout. 

Ayla went to the spare bedroom and set her backpack on the bed. She turned to walk out and ask Crowley if she could shower but he was standing in the door. Memories came, unbidden and flooded her body. She went to her knees and shook as she fought tears. “Please no!” she cried slumped to the floor. She was reliving trauma, Crowley could tell and he tried to go to her but she scooted away from him. He watched in horror as fresh bruises appeared on her skin. Crowley left the doorframe and sat on the bed, he noticed once he did this Ayla jumped up and ran out the door. She couldn’t tell where she was going, she just knew by instinct and followed her gut. She opened the door and plopped herself in front of the toilet. Crowley could hear retching and went to the bathroom. He watched as Ayla threw up blood and taking a calming breath draw his demonic aura in as much as he could and walked in. “Don’t worry. Nothing like that is going to happen again. He cooed. Cooed? He scowled, since when did a demon coo?! He rolled his eyes and went behind Ayla, he reached out and held her silken red hair back as best he could. It felt like Ayla had been throwing up for hours. And he felt sorry for the kid. After awhile, it finally slowed. He could tell Ayla was pale and clammy as he looked at her “Wait here.” he said softly and went to grab a washcloth. Once done, he ran it under warm water and wrung it out and went back to the bathroom. “Here” and handed her the washcloth, which she took and pressed it to her face. Her body relaxed some as the warmth melted into her skin and she sighed in relief. “Can I - “ Ayla started to ask but Crowley interrupted “Not the best idea, you could injure yourself.” Crowley sighed and snapped his fingers. Ayla was instantly clean and the bruises were slowly disappearing. He scowled at her, trying to imply “Don’t say that I am nice or kind.” Ayla just nodded her head, and caught the water bottle flying at her face, with ease. Where had that - she started to muse, but then saw Crowley smile at her. “Drink up, kid.” “Thanks.” she replied and continued to open the bottle.

[aylacaleashantie]

First ever fan fiction

So while I wait for my AO3 invite. I have started to write my first ever fan fiction. I'll post it here, and help me think of a story title!

Her body slammed against the counter and the air wheezed out of her lungs and mouth. “You demon!” Her abusive father, whose name was Kent grabbed her braid and pulled her to standing. “What did I tell you about this?” She clenched her jaw. her anger rising. She was covered in bruises, had a black eye and looked like she had been through the wringer. Instead of answering, she held her side. She guessed she had broken ribs but couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that she was adopted by this abusive asshole and today was the last straw for her. “I don’t fucking care what you told me! I’m eighteen, if I want to find my biological parents you can’t stop me, you abusive fucker!” Her “father” for all tense and purposes draw a knife and tackled her to the floor. “Now you listen to me, you ungrateful bitch!” And held the knife to her throat. Her jaw clamped down even tighter, her eyes went from their beautiful blue to yellow. They looked like a snakes, and if her father had better sense, he would have backed off. But no, he just laughed in her face, his hands shook, and the knife was making tiny cuts into her throat. After years of abuse, Ayla had finally had enough. Her anger flared to new heights. She started smoking, black plumes of smoke misted around her and when she could hold it no longer, it released. Thunder rolled and lightening sparked throughout the house. Ayla’s father’s eyes went wide with terror as he scrambled away from her. As he stood he got struck by lightening and slumped to the floor. “Serves you right, you abusive asshole!” She didn’t even check if Kent was alive or not. Instead she packed a couple changes of clothes and left the house forever. 

She walked as far as she could, which wasn’t very far but luckily for her she came upon a strip of business. There was a music shop, a seamstress shop, a coffee shop called “ Give me coffee or give me death.” Ayla smiled to herself. People going to and fro from the shops gave her a somewhat wide berth, which didn’t bother her any. But she needed to find a place to rest a while. Her legs were shaking from exhaustion, she swayed slightly and closed her eyes. She noticed by feel that she bumped into something. But couldn’t tell what.“Watch it!”a man exclaimed with a growl and glared at her through sunglasses. But as the gentleman took in her state his eyebrows rose. He grabbed her by the wrist and growled out “What the fuck happened!?” Ayla eyes snapped open, revealing the predator. The man’s grip tightened. “I don’t fucking know you, why should I tell you?” she growled back. Ayla grabbed the man by the wrist and he immediately dropped her wrist, it was like he was zapped by an invisible force. “What’s up with your eyes? Those contacts?” Ayla gave him a confused look. “Names Crowley, Anthony. Yours?” Ayla couldn’t explain it but she felt she could trust Crowley. “Ayla.” Crowley nodded at her slightly and pointed with his chin “You look starved. I don’t normally do this but whadda say I buy you a nibble and a drink.” For some un-explainable reason Crowley’s heart (for lack of a better term) went out to her. He gently led her through the door of the coffee shop and to a table. Ayla grabbed  the spoon from the silverware sitting, ready to be used, and looked at her face. Man, she was a sight. But she did notice what Crowley was talking about her eyes where a snake’s! “Those contacts?” Crowley asked and the only reply Ayla gave him was a slow shake of her head before she whispered “First time its happened actually.” Crowley frowned and pondered her answer, after a  few minutes later, a beautiful African American with box braids in her hair approached the table. “Crowley! What has it been? Twenty years?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Get you your regular 6 shots in a big cup?” he only nodded. As Nina took in the state of the woman occupying the table Nina looked from the woman to Crowley and back again. Instead of speaking her mind, like she normally did, she kept it internal. “For you miss?” Crowley watched as Ayla eyes slowly changed from the predators to a familiar blue. His almost gasped aloud but managed not to. Ayla looked at Nina and before she could stop herself she asked “Are you related to Mr. Fell?” Ayla’s face crunched in confusion “No?” she didn’t sound confident of that, but she quickly added “I mean, I have no idea. I was adopted.” Crowley stored this information away for later as Ayla then ordered a Croissant and an Iced Chai tea. Nina went and put the order in. It wasn’t long before she was back and placed the items on the table and left to tend to the other customers. She made a mental note to ask Crowley if he found out what happened to the woman. 

“So, what happened?” Crowley asked Ayla. Ayla’s jaw clenched and Crowley watched as one of her blue eyes went back to a snake’s. “My abussssssive assssssshole of a father” she hissed as she continued “Didn’t want me to find my biological parentssssss.” Crowley slowly nodded his head and he watched Ayla eat her croissant. He couldn’t help himself, it had been eighteen years since -. He stopped that thought in its tracks. No, no. He was not going to drudge up the past. Azriaphale made his choice. 

[aylacaleashantie]

"I Was Wrong" Dance