screams symbolism

Damen said, ‘Wear it for me.’

For a moment he thought Laurent wasn’t going to do it. But in public, Laurent had no recourse to refusal. 

Laurent extended his hand. And then waited, palm outstretched, his eyes lifting to meet Damen’s.

Laurent said, ‘Put it on me.’

Listen, this scene destroyed me. I had to sit down on the floor in an aisle of priceline because I was so overwhelmed. I was on fire, and I bet you Jord was also on fire, albeit for different reasons. 

Part two of the continuing saga chronicling my descent into Captive Prince hell. 

Goretober day 14 - stitches, another one just barely getting it out in time, this was going to be a collab but my collab partner wasn’t feeling the best so I guess I just kind of drew my own for this

I’m going to be dubbing this the corpse bride Eliza

so apparently someone made a survey of favourite destiel fic authors (that someone being @unforth-ninawaters​), and somehow i’m ranked as 5th favourite????!?! thaNK YOU people who put my name down????? my mother is gonna be thrilled (and then ask why i’m not #1)

on another note, i’ve spent the last two days of my life painting my room purple after literally 8 years (and i mean literally, not figuratively, or exaggeratively), trying get my health up enough that i could paint a hecking wall. it. is. done. THE WALLS ARE PURPLE


AND DEAR GOD I AM EXHAUSTED IT’S 3AM everything hurts i’m dying i need to sleep

k bye

links to all 65 of my destiel fics on ao3, because of reasons

some favourites:

and my newest fic (which i’m changing the summary for right now because nobody knows what it’s meant to be):

Edvard Munch: THE SCREAM

Art history challenge: 9 paintings (9/9)

Edvard Munch: The Scream (1893)

“I was walking along the road with two friends – the sun was setting – suddenly the sky turned blood red – I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence – there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city – my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety – and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.”

@afterhoursanimationschool Inktober Prompt 8: A Plant from your world

A Black and White Rose….

on 1989 taylor showed us half her face on the cover. 

on Reputation she is showing us her whole face. 

She’s not even allowing one inch of it to be obscured by even her bangs.  It’s a bold and contrasting statement to the past. it’s black and white. there is no screaming color.

is that symbolic of nothing’s being held back this time? Will that mean that this is the whole thing…that this is all of taylor. Not some pieces of her that she selected but… Raw taylor. She’s not wearing any face makeup either, because she’s showing herself in the flesh, .. is this album is who she is, not some prettified version? just taylor. is this the time when absolutely nothing’s being covered up, and everything’s being put out there… 

anonymous asked:

why does cas like the color beige so much? psst i'm the one who ranted about his love for that color in an ask earlier

Well, Angels wear neutral colours, especially in the later seasons, a lot of grey, white etc and suits. It’s representative of their bureaucratic nature and society.

Cas however wears beige, a colour that’s often associated with being earthly, though he also wears a suit underneath. He’s therefore symbolically kind of in between, shocker right?!

Interestingly now we have Jack who also wears beige which makes sense as he’s a Cas mirror. Though, and this could be totally random, his jacket is also very reminiscent of my Early Civilisations class where I studied early Mesopotamia and the emergence of the Mediterranean and Greek culture, the geometric design just really stood out to me:

Originally posted by maplecas

Now this could be totally random or the design could be supposedly more western/cowboy themed and just happens to also be geometric because geometric is a standard worldy early style, idk.

But the next step up is stick men and then painting people: 

So if Jack later wears a t-shirt with people on it I’ll scream as he’s symbolically powering through the history of human civilisation and culture and that’s super cool!

starrystarrypragmatist  asked:

Hi there! I was wondering if the fact that the male protagonist of Midnight in Paris, Gil Pender begins by narrating that the protagonist of the book he is writing owns an antique shop is in fact, a foreshadowing of the future he is going to have with the girl from the antique shop who shares his love for all stuff, nostalgia related. That foreshadowing seemed very Ni to me, so my question: Difference between Ni foreshadowing and Ne foreshadowing, be it in books or movies?

To be honest, that seems like Ne foreshadowing to me because it’s obvious, impersonal, and immediately understandable by the laymen. Ni tends to see things in terms of personalized symbolic representations that the external audience may or may not understand or fully grasp, even if they are also Ni’s.

Midnight in Paris‘ writer, Woody Allen, is an INFP, so it’s all very Ne/Si. The true message of the movie is dissatisfaction in your life; the inability to live in the present but the lower Si tendency to dwell in the past; that each generation’s NP’s long for a more wonderful, romanticized, idealized time. But, in typical high Ne fashion, while celebrating nostalgia, it’s also simultaneously debunking the myth of the past as being superior to the present.

(As a writer, I too fight this a lot – an undying love for the past while at the same time, seeing its harsh realities; wanting to mythologize it in fiction but not escape its cruelties. I dwell in a world of BUT IT WAS SO AMAZING… AND HORRIBLE. I do foreshadowing too, but you can see it when you look back.)

There are two things I’ve seen that screamed Ni foreshadowing / symbolism to me – one is The Fountain, in which the symbols are all entwined and it’s about death and eternal life and missing out on the present by dwelling in the future, and if you’re paying attention you can discern the ending from the beginning through the multiple narratives as they unfold. (Darren Aronofsky is an INFJ, so all his movies are very, very Ni.)

The other is the television series Hannibal, which steeps itself in individualized symbolic representations – not the least of which is Will Graham envisioning Hannibal as a wendigo (a flesh-eating monster) long before he becomes consciously aware of Hannibal’s true identity. The series peppers weird, surreal imagery throughout to represent all the characters. In the first season, we see a stag torn asunder – which foreshadows events toward the end of the first season and parts of the second season.

Some good Se/Ni foreshadowing is Crimson Peak, where the butterflies and ants carry meaning, where the house is an embodiment of evil / trapped souls, etc. It’s in a sense more relate-able to a bystander than straight up Ni-dom stuff, but it’s still fascinating from an abstract perspective.

- ENFP Mod

You know what? Do they want to erase Danielle? An actual, real person we were meant to see next to Louis for a whole year, publicly and “privately” sharing their lives in a constant flow of pics, outings, snaps. Danielle who’s been in his family house, with his son, with his family, at the xf performance. Fine. She didn’t care about him, about us, we don’t care about her. But the dagger?! That dagger was and is a symbol that Louis made sure to share with us in a very difficult, painful moment, a moment when his image was disgustingly, purposefully used to infuriate, hurt and alienate his most loyal and affectionate fans. A symbol of care. Of respect, of assurance. A symbol that screamed that Louis was fighting, not taking shit about who he is and who he loves. A declaration to us, a request not to give up. A symbol of love. At his most miserable and delicate and vulnerable point.
There is nothing, absolutely nothing they can do to take away from us the dagger, its meaning and the incredible memories connected to its first appearance.

Accidental Demon Part 2

As he stood there, he wasn’t sure what to do. It was obvious it was a mistake that she summoned him but what now. He could kill her. She squinted at him. It actually scarred him. He thought it was a glare only the most powerful witches have but then he reminded himself to calm. This was most certainly not a witches lair. She then brightened up, “Todd! It has been so long since I have seen you. I was just making you a blanket for Christmas and here you are…” She looked down and saw the demon standing on the blanket, “and now you are standing on my hard work?!” A demon he may be, but stupid he was not.  He quickly stepped off. “That’s better. I am glad that you are here though I wish you had told me you were coming. I would have made you something to eat.” She toddled over to him and embraced him. ‘This was a confusing situation and it just keeps getting worse,’ the demon thought. He could hear the other demons mock him now. The thoughts were stopped by her voice again, “You have gotten so big. I see your mother is still feeding you well. And still in all that black stuff. I was hoping so with all my hard work on the blanket.” That is when his attention turned back to the blank. ‘THERE IS MY SUMMONING SYMBOL!’ he screamed in his head. “I asked the librarian for an old creepy book with weird symbols and they gave me this book with all sorts of different shapes so i made my own from them.” ‘Now it all makes sense. She made this for her dumb goth grandson, somehow made my symbol, had a small accident and bleed onto my symbol, and here I am.’

 “I have truly missed you Todd.” She hugged the demon again tightly. He felt warmth. This was a confusing warmth. He has felt the licking flames of hell, he has been in Phoenix in the summer during their greatest heat wave. But this was somehow warmer than any heat he has ever felt combined. “I hope you are staying over, I hope you like your room, I’ve been gathering things I thought you’d like. My is it really that late,” She peered at the clock, “You’d best get yourself to bed, we will go out in the morning for some food.” She picked up the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders gently shoving him towards the stairs. The demon simply nods. He now had orders and could not leave. “I would love your help around the house tomorrow, I haven’t been able to do things since you last visited. Sleep well Todd. I love you.” He went into the only room that smelled of male. He walked in and could tell it has been many years since Todd has been here. It did have posters of what humans call metal and pentagrams but there was a layer of dust, even though he could see grandma has cleaned regularly. The longer he looked in the room, he could see that she truly did miss this Todd. She had made other items for Todd over the years but it was obvious Todd has never came by to collect his gifts. 

The demon thinks about tomorrow. It was obvious the old crone was blinder than a bat but her neighbors wouldn’t be. He started going though Todd’s clothes. He found some baggy pants that was probably 5 times to big for a young Todd but luckily that worked for the demon just fine. He did not approve of all the chains though. They made too much noise, would never work to sneak up on prey. None of the shirts fit but he found a hooded jacket that must have looked almost akin to a dress on young Todd. He found that there was embroidered patches, shapes, and pentagrams. He could tell all were done by the crone, stitch by stitch, by hand, none of it was store bought. Store bought was always bland and had a flaw that was found through out every other patch but this, it almost glowed. The demon could fell the love and effort the grandmother put in with every stitch. She has bled tonight for this Todd. This infuriated the demon. ‘I will meet with this Todd soon and show him what hell really is. It is not as pretty as they paint in all these ridiculous posters.’ The grandmother called from down stairs, “Good night honey, sweet dreams.” The demon then turned to a bed, a beautifully made bed. He was use to seeing them ripped and stained in sin. He did not wish to soil the bed and ruin the crone’s hard work. He grabbed a pillow, set it on the floor. He then turned back to the bed and slightly moved the blankets as though it was slept in so there would be no questions later. He laid down and slept as ordered. He did not have those sweet dreams though. He had never had dreams, in the rare times he could actually sleep, it was just a black void. His last thought was confusion, why was he  scared for the first time in centuries of what was to come the next day.