#crowley in indian attire

[taleofdaringdo]

Crowley in Indian Saree because she will slay Indian attires ❤️

Saree in my mind is a Georgette saree

For people who don't know what a saree is, it's a single fabric long clothing material that south asian women drape. This is one of many draping styles, but also most common one.

[synergysilhouette]

Continuing on with my Choices ideas for books from my banned Reddit account, here is "Hierarchy: Scheming University":

At Sarcia University, you're ready to make a name for yourself. However, at one of the most renound liberal arts university, everyone is willing to sabotage you in order get ahead--and some professors seem to be looking away. Will you find a way to get through college by natural talent, or will you resort to cashing in favors and humiliating your peers?

Gameplay: your choices matter. Join clubs, participate in activities, and engage socially in order to impress your professors and earn respect from your classmates. Are you a nerd, a partier, an athlete, a loner, or a mix?

LIs:

Gwen Flores--beautiful, intelligent, athletic, she's in every club she can be at a given time. As such, it's gotten her a lot of popularity, but she's more substantial than that, focusing on being a good person. However, rejecting cliques can come back to bite you. She could really use you in her corner. (Hispanic, very casual fashion that she makes look beautiful)

Alanis Whitlock--popular and pretty, she pretty much does the bare minimum, academically. But in actuality, she's a world class nerd! (She'd kill me for saying that.) She'd never share this, but she's actually super poor and came on an academic scholarship, and some of the sleazy-er professors buy her things all the time, boosting her ego. And she's been known to sabotage people horribly if her well thought out plans fail…If you want to romance her, you better show that you have goals for yourself--plus a good public image. (Caucasian, glamorous fashion, a hint of sexiness but nothing overstated.)

Britney Kishimoto--coming from a family of successful writers, it was expected for Britney to be president of the journalism club. She struggles with insecurity due to the amount of hot people at SU, but her penchant for discovering the truth and creating believable gossip has gained her popularity--but this can put her at odds with you if she catches you doing something you shouldn't.

Silas Griffin, a hard-working ROTC member, trained to respect autheority. Growing up with a large family, he has a lot riding on him, and wants to keep his head down to avoid awful rumors circulating around him. However, when he discovers an interest in theatre, he becomes emboldened to speak out on the school's crooked injustice. However, he still has a bit of uncertainty, knowing his new outspokenness could get him expelled. Hopefully MC can help him gain some confidence. (Native American, hair usually braided, usually seen in atheltic clothing and bright colors.)

Ashok Singh--a handsome singe father who happens to be a professor at a local medical school (yay, he doesn't work here!) He's often trying to find a good work-life balance, especially after his son was kidnapped two years ago and he's become very protective. He's not your official therapy, but he provides insight on you and your morals throughout the story. He currently has his contemporaries investigating the shifty happenings at SU. (Indian, hair goes past his ears and has a beard, usually wears a dress shirt and jeans outside of work)

Dominic Ferrari--the result of a tryst between a wealthy Italian businessman and a Venezuelan model, he tends to take things for granted at SU. He likes to cause trouble and enjoy himself, but he never means any (severe) harm. You'd pretty, and he wants you, attempting to seduce you with promises of job opportunities when you get out of college. Maybe you'll have to consider it…(Italian-Latin with brown hair and tanned skin, usually wears business-related attire but sometimes engages in casualwear).

Twist:

(Neutral route): Due to you flying under the radar, most of the school has ignored you--except for Professor Crowley, whose child attends SU. She sends an anonymous tip to Britney that you're the one who set the gym on fire last year (you didn't, btw). Now you're in the spotlight--and not quite the way you wanted.

(Mean girl/guy route): You've managed to intimidate a lot of your opposition, but now Dominic wants to test your mettle, challenging you to maintain your popularity for the rest of the year. Sounds easy enough, until you realized he's made bets with a few othe people, and the sabotage is about to turn lethal. Watch your back.

(Nice guy/girl route): When everyone loves you, everyone hates you for it. Your transparency and kindness has earned a lot of friends, but Ross Sym, an undercover jerk, tricks you into preparing an awful speech that paints you as disingenuous. While a friend, even Silas notes your surprise seems very rehearsed, and in a school full of liars, it's easy to believe your angelic demeanor is a coverup. And now playing the victim seems to be a growing trend at school…

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 5: Working Girls

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: The time has come for your first tutoring session.

Editor: @cherrypierowena

It was Friday when you next spoke to Rowena.

She seemed intent on avoiding you all week, and you happily returned the favor. The less you saw (and heard) of her, the easier it was to pretend you weren't stuck being tutored by her for the entirety of this semester.

What were you thinking, saying yes to that?

You were an idiot.

Just as the last bell sounded, and you were on your way out, happy to start your weekend, the devil herself had to — just had to — walk up to you and say, "Tomorrow. Quarter past three."

You blinked as if you'd just been maced. "What?"

"The tutoring," she said a tad slower, in an overly exaggerated tone, as if you were dumb. "That thing you're making me do? Remember?"

You rolled your eyes. "You agreed for the same reasons I did. I'm not making you do shit."

She returned the eyeroll, which somehow managed to look even more dramatic, more exaggerated. You wondered if it hurt to twist her eyes like that. And if it did — good.

"Whatever. You coming tomorrow or what?"

Did you even have a choice?

The sooner you got it done, the better.

"Where?"

"My house," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It kind of was. The way Rowena was, she wouldn't be caught dead with you — alone — in public.

"Sure," you say.

"Need directions?" she asked.

It was your turn to give her the are-you-dumb look. "I've been there countless times."

"Just making sure," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Don't want you to get lost."

Olivette, who was standing beside her, snickered.

Rowena smirked.

Nice. Already off to a great start.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart," you said condescendingly. Two could play this game. "Just make sure you're home when I get there. Busy girl like you, don't want you to stand me up."

"I won't, darling," she replied in the same tone. "I cleared me schedule just for you."

"How sweet."

"That's me."

Yeah. Sweet as diabetes.

Olivette pulled her arm, heading for the exit.

"Don't be late," Rowena said over her shoulder as she followed her.

"I would never," you shouted after her.

After the way she acted, you were tempted to. Badly.

*****

It was three o'clock sharp when you showed up at the MacLeod residence. Much to your disappointment, Crowley was out, doing whatever it was that he did on his own. Probably something not quite legal. Or moral.

You didn't ask.

You didn't care.

Just before you left the house, he sent you a message giving you his honest, heartfelt condolences. How sweet of him.

You hated to admit it, but it was oddly comforting. If anyone knew what it was like to study with Rowena — to be around Rowena for more than a few minutes, all alone — it was him.

Rowena opened the door dressed in something sparkly you thought she only wore to school to stand out.

Apparently, it was her regular attire.

Who would have guessed?

"You're early," she said in greeting, seemingly surprised.

"Hello to you, too," you said.

She scoffed and moved aside to let you in, then closed the door behind you.

The MacLeod house was small but comfy. The kind of house that made you feel right at home as soon as you walked through the door. Aside from their mother's, the MacLeod kids had two other bedrooms; Rowena had her own, and Crowley and Gavin, their younger brother, shared theirs. Not much space for a four-member family, but they made it work.

"Mother's at work," Rowena said. "Fergus is out. It's just you and me. And Gavin."

"Cool," you said.

Their mother was always working. Two jobs, you thought Crowley once said. Bills needed to be paid, and kids were expensive.

"Gavin won't bother us," Rowena said.

"Whatever."

You didn't mind the kid. From what you saw of him, he was a lovely little boy. A complete contrast to his sister.

She took you to her room. It was small, but somehow felt like home. The bed was by the wall in the middle, surrounded by a desk with a laptop on top, a large closet, a dresser, and, much to your surprise, two big bookshelves filled to the brim with books, hardbacks and paperbacks alike, all in seemingly pristine condition.

You would never admit it out loud, but you were impressed. You'd expected something more… pink. And sparkly. Maybe a few pictures of loser kids like yourself hanging on the wall, with targets painted on their faces in sparkly pink gel pen. The popular girl stuff.

Maybe she had those in her closet.

"It's just a room," Rowena said when she noticed you staring, a touch of smugness, of pride, in her expression.

You blushed. "Your books…"

"Aye, I've my own wee library."

A bit more that wee, it was. There were so many books!

"Don't touch anything," she added. "You can look" — she didn't seem too thrilled with that idea, either, but at the same time, she liked to be the one to impress — "but don't touch. I don't want you to damage the books."

You had to roll your eyes. "That's my sole purpose in life — damaging your books."

"For all I know, I might be," she retorted. "You seem like the type."

You cocked up an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"We wouldn't be in this mess if not for your damage."

Really?

Really?!

"You could've refused," you reminded her. "We both know why you didn't." Because little miss perfect wasn't so perfect after all. "Don't put your shitty record on me. I'm not the one bitching out the teachers."

At least when you did it, you did it out of earshot, around your friends.

If anything, Rowena could learn a thing or two from you.

Her cheeks flushed as red as her hair. "If you weren't such a failure, Mr. Shurley never would have blackmailed me!"

Maybe so.

But still…

"Maybe he doesn't like you."

God knew you didn't. Half the school didn't. Just because her group let her into their little circle didn't mean the entire popular scene liked her.

You'd heard the things they were saying about her behind her back. All the names they called her. The jokes they made about her.

Everyone knew the only reason she was popular, that she was someone, was that Olivette felt sorry for her. The same reason Lucifer started dating her Junior year.

Hell, you were pretty sure Rowena knew it, too. She couldn't not know.

But she put up with it. Because popularity was everything, even at the cost of dignity.

Being on top mattered more than anything. More than family. More than the people she'd trampled on her way there.

Despicable.

Rowena scoffed, looking at you as if you'd just suggested having live snails for dinner. "He loves me!"

You snorted. "Sure. Everyone loves you."

"People with taste do."

"Yeah, 'cause you're so lovable."

"Totally am."

As lovable as a splinter.

"Now, are you here to be rude or to learn?" she asked, changing the subject. "I've had to cancel plans to meet with you, you know. I don't want to waste my time."

You were the one being rude?

Typical Rowena.

"So sorry you can't make out with your asshole boyfriend for an extra hour this afternoon," you said sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "What I do with my time is none of your bloody business! But if you must know, I was supposed to go shopping with Olivette."

So she was in agreement with Lucifer being an asshole.

Interesting.

"My deepest apologies," you said mockingly, earning you another eyeroll.

Books, notebooks, and supplies were on the floor, on a neat pile beside the bed. You lowered your bag containing your own stuff beside them and sat down Indian style. Rowena joined you.

"When's your make up test?" she asked.

"Thursday," you said. You thought Ms. Hanscum would give you more time, but guess not. You had a tutor now. She expected results.

You expected another F.

Rowena sighed. "Well, let's see what it is you're struggling with."

How about everything? you thought sourly.

"This was in the test," she said, opening the textbook and pointing a perfectly manicured fingernail at the pages in question. "What exactly is it you don't get?"

You slid the book over to you, scanned the pages meticulously. So many numbers and formulas. Odd formations of numbers and letters that made no sense. Solved example problems that looked as strange as a foreign language. Questions you didn't — couldn't — understand, let alone solve.

You blushed as if caught doing something awkward.

This was embarrassing.

"Everything," you mumbled under your breath.

Rowena frowned, confused, curious. "What?"

You swallowed. Breathed in deep and hard for courage. "I said everything!" She blinked. You sighed. "None of this makes sense to me. Might as well show me hieroglyphs. I'll understand as much."

As if it wasn't embarrassing enough that a mean girl like her had to tutor you, you had to admit to your ignorance out loud.

This was fine, you told yourself. Totally fine. If she laughed at you, if she told her friends what a complete and utter idiot you were, so what? Wouldn't be the first time you were made fun of.

You could handle a bit of bullying.

You'd handled it before.

Go at it, Rowena, you thought. Do your worst!

Instead, her hard expression softened. No trace of a smile lingered on her mouth. No teasing glint in her eyes.

She looked… concerned.

What was going on?

"You really understand nothing?" she asked. Her tone was genuine, no mockery in sight.

"Yup," you said timidly, face falling to the open book between the two of you.

"Why didn't you ask Ms. Hanscum to explain?"

What was the point? You still wouldn't get it. Also…

"So you and your friends can laugh at me?"

Rowena looked appalled. "I wouldn't laugh at you."

"Sure you wouldn't." Just like she hadn't looked around at people who'd failed with a smug look on her face. Just like she hadn't stood aside as her friends teased and bullied and mocked people, and laughed along with them.

She was about to respond, but shut her mouth just in time. Good. You weren't in the mood for excuses and lies.

"Why don't we start with the first lesson?" she asked, changing the subject back to the topic at hand. "If you get a hang of that one, the other two will be easier to comprehend."

"Sure," you replied. You weren't expecting much; if Ms. Hanscum, who'd spent years earning her degree, couldn't teach you, you doubted a mere high school girl could.

Still, it was worth a try.

You could use the extra credit, and plus, you'd promised Sam you'd cooperate. Rowena had apparently told him she had no patience for slackers. You didn't particularly care what she thought, but at the very least, you could prove her wrong. You could work hard and do your best. Make her earn her extra credit and clean record.

"Okay, so you see this problem?" Rowena asked, pointing to a set of numbers she'd written down on a piece of paper.

"Yeah."

You wished you didn't.

You had a feeling these numbers would show up in your dreams tonight. And every night after that.

Math was a bitch.

"Do you know how we got 3?"

You shrugged. "Nope."

She might as well have asked you to translate lettering from ancient artifacts.

Rowena sighed. Not quite happy, but not exasperated, either. "Let's look at it differently. What's something you like?" She looked around, lost in thought. "Money?"

"Sure."

Everyone liked money, you supposed.

She grinned. "Great!"

Was that genuine joy on her face?

"Say you have one hundred dollars. I borrow you twenty. Sam borrows you five. You want to buy a… DVD."

That was one expensive DVD.

"What kind?" you asked.

She frowned. "What?"

"What kind of DVD? Like, which movie?"

"Gone with the Wind?" she suggested.

You made a face. "I'd never buy that! Especially not for that much money."

"It's a bloody classic!" she exclaimed, outraged.

Well.

Somebody loved old movies.

"Don't care," you said. "It's old, needlessly long, boring, and, uh, did I mention old?"

Rowena looked as if you'd just admitted to murdering her entire family in cold blood.

"Make it Mean Girls. It's symbolic, at least."

She scowled. "Fine. You want to buy Mean Girls."

"Perfect," you said with a sugary-sweet, diabetes-inducing smile on your mouth.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. Her favorite thing to do, it seemed. "You get to the store, and you find out it's on sale."

"I love sales!"

"Everybody loves sales! Anyway, the DVD you want…"

She went on a long, complicated explanation of prices, tax, sales, calculations, and formulas. At first none of it made sense, just as it hadn't back in Ms. Hanscum's class. But the more she explained, the more details she provided to the imaginary scenario with money and DVDs, it started to settle in.

It took a good ten minutes, but by the time she was done, you understood the problem.

And when she gave you a few problems she'd made up herself to solve, same structure with different numbers, you did it.

Correctly.

Soon the two of you moved on to other lessons. Rowena was surprisingly patient. You expected her to scream and shout and call you names. Instead, she explained everything thoroughly, five times if she had to. She didn't talk down to you. Didn't make you feel dumb for not knowing things that came naturally to her. Didn't rush you or chastise you for taking too long to solve the problems she'd given you.

She spoke softly and kindly, and gave you time to think solutions through.

She was, dare you say, better than Ms. Hanscum herself.

"I think that's about enough for today," Rowena said.

You looked at your phone, eyes going wide at seeing the time.

Two hours had gone by in a flash.

"Yeah," you agreed. "That was way too much math for one day."

Rowena giggled.

It was cute, you found yourself thinking. A strangely cute little sound.

"Would you like to come over tomorrow?"

You blinked. "To study?"

"What else?"

"Isn't that a bit… soon?"

"Your make up test is Thursday, right? It's better to prepare really well." She shrugged. "Not saying you have to. It's just a suggestion."

You didn't want to.

You never wanted to see these numbers — any numbers — again.

You especially didn't want to see them that soon.

But…

Rowena was right. The more you prepared, the more you studied, the better.

It wasn't like you had anything planned, anyway. Sunday was a boring day.

"Okay," you said after a moment of thinking it through. "Same time?"

"Aye."

"It's a deal, then."

"Don't be late."

"I'll be here at three again. Three fifteen sounds a bit weird, to be honest."

She made no response to that. Merely shrugged as if it didn't bother her. "Says you."

"I'll be going, then," you said. "Say hi to Crowley for me?"

"Whatever," she replied, annoyed.

You took that as a yes.

The first session went rather well. You hadn't tried to kill each other and you'd managed to learn a thing or two.

Maybe having Rowena MacLeod as a tutor wasn't so bad after all.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @victoriasagittariablack @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @melisandre02 @a-queen-and-her-throne

[taleofdaringdo]

Crowley and Aziraphale in Indian (South Asian) attire drawn by artist Hana Adamová

The reason behind their inspiration of drawing them in Indian attire is absolutely beautiful and I must share this along with the art.

Hana says

I could see it on black brocade silk :-)

Otherwise, this picture was created not only because I like traditional Indian clothes, but also because of mythology. Crovley is constantly guarded by Hell, and I wish him the kind of free-spirited freedom that demons in Hindu mythology have. They are unique, they are not subject to anyone and when they are evil, they can be absolutely terrible that even the gods can have problems with them, but if they want to and do a good deed, then it is purely their business .and there are also demons, for example, who even watch temples and tombs.. at least what i know.....

Free Will. That's what Crowley always spoke up for. That's what Crowley as Asura in Hindu Mythology would have been able to get without having to answer to anyone or be in constant fear of being destroyed by heaven or hell.

And he would have been able to befriend and love a Sura Aziraphale. Cause Aziraphale would have been an Indian god too who would've had free will and no supreme god or any heavenly host answer to.

This truly makes my heart full to view them in such light ❤️

Below is Hana's comment on fb post