roma★
RMH
oozey mess
if i look back, i am lost
ojovivo
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available
$LAYYYTER
we're not kids anymore.
titsay
AnasAbdin
Misplaced Lens Cap
art blog(derogatory)
styofa doing anything
Claire Keane
JBB: An Artblog!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
No title available
Sade Olutola
wallacepolsom
seen from Germany
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Tunisia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from South Korea
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from Ecuador
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
@hellkitti
oops
I haven’t used this account in 3 years but for whoever cares, my new account is @kattkarnage even though i only use it occassionally. Feel free to follow me on my Instagram, and my other social media are linked. Farewell for now
Mods are asleep post forbidden tits
Huh
Huh
Huh
Hhhhhhh
Perfectly balanced as all things should be…
oh nooooooo
last time i reblogged this it wasnt balanced I’m glad it’s ok now!!!
everything should be balanced Yinyang
Update
I decided to have a fresh start, I made a new blog. I'm keeping this one up and will check it once in a while but it's going to be inactive.
@gothicunseelie is my new account
‘There were two sisters, they went playing,
To see their father’s ships come sailing…
And when they came unto the sea-brim
The elder did push the younger in.
Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam,
‘Til her corpse came to the miller’s dam
But what did he do with her breastbone?
He made him a viol to play on.
What’d he do with her fingers so small?
He made pegs to his viol withall.
What did he do with her nose-ridge?
Unto his viol he made a bridge
What did he do with her veins so blue?
He made strings for his viol thereto.
What did he do with her eyes so bright?
On his viol he set at first light.
What did he do with her tongue so rough?
‘Twas the new till and it spoke enough.
Then bespake the treble string,
‘O yonder is my father the king’.
Then bespake the second string,
‘O yonder sits my mother the queen’.
Then bespake the strings all three,
‘Yonder is my sister that drowned me’.
I decided to have a little go at a cover of the Weaver’s song from @sjmaas‘s ‘A Court of Mist and Fury’. Tried my best to make it as unsettling as possible, as any good faerie song should be!
Hope you enjoy!
The song Jennifer Morrison sings in Albion: Rise of the Danann’s teaser. Now let the CS fandom commence their incoherent sobbing
Fire- Aries, Sagittarius, Leo // Physical world, Action & Intuition Air- Gemini, Libra, Aquarius // Mental world, Intellect & Communication Water- Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces // Emotional world, Feelings & Imagination Earth- Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn // Material world, Sensation & Production
Herbal Sorbet
Want to make a delicious, low calorie, simple, delicious sorbet? You will have the great flavour of the herbs as well as their medicinal properties and benefits.
Ingredients: *½ cup superfine sugar *1 cup water *¼ cup leaves of either spearmint, peppermint, chocolate mint, apple mint, lemon balm, or rosemary *juice of 1 lemon *1 egg white *extra leaves of chosen herb for decoration
Directions: 1) Place sugar in a saucepan and add the water. Bring to a boil, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved. 2) Chop the herb leaves and add to the pan. Cover, then remove from the heat. Leave to infuse for 20-30 minutes. Test for flavor; if it is too light, bring to the boil again then leave to infuse for 15 minutes. 3) Strain the liquid and add the lemon juice. Transfer the mixture to an ice-cube tray and freeze for 2-3 hours. 4) When the sorbet is semi-frozen, whisk the egg white until stiff and fold it into the mixture. Return to the freezer for a further 3-4 hours or until frozen. 5) Serve the sorbet in individual dishes, and decorate with extra herb leaves.
The Wiccan’s Glossary
The Paths.
0 - Fool - Falling blindly forward along a course of action. Reckless creativity and bravery.
1 - Magus - Mastery of chaos and order. Action with perfect knowledge and power.
2 - Empress - Detachment. All is understood and everything is permitted.
3 - Hermit - The light bearer and keeper of perfect and secret knowledge.
4 - Dragon - Emergence. Self forming and self sustaining process. The process is the product. Beyond thought or conception. Simple being in action.
5 - Angel - Carrying out the design. Doing ones duty with perfect knowledge and detachment.
6 - Justice or Adjustment - Resolution of internal conflict. Change in self in accordance with will.
7 - Lust or Strength - Union of will an purpose unhindered by thought. Pure absorption in activity.
8 - Priestess - Agent of chaos. Impulse forward and onward. Perfection in unity which requires no explanation and for which none is possible.
9 - Star - Receptive creativity. Divine inspiration.
10 - Lovers - Perfect contentment. State of being where all makes sense and all is as it should be.
11 - Death - Experience and awareness of time. Knowledge of lack of control, that there is that which is beyond control.
12 - Fortune - Purpose uniting seeming random events. Embracing the random.
13 - Hanged Man - Seeking of higher knowledge. Suspension of action by deliberation.
14 - Devil - Heresy. Lies. Approximation of truth. Transmission of the light and its corruption by expressing the inexpressible, and yet it is this corruption that makes it useful, takes it from abstract to applicable.
15 - Tower - Shattering of unity of thought and sense by time and memory. Futility of thought to predict the future.
16 - Art - Pursuit of desire. Creation of that which moves us. Manifestation of love.
17 - Emperor - Domination of the external. Desire must be fulfilled by that which one does not control.
18 - Sun - The inner light. The confidence of knowledge. Confidence whether it be justified or otherwise.
19 - World or Universe - The object of desire. That which appears to be objective and solid because of our attachment to it.
20 - Scarab - Manifestation. The process whereby the shells of illusion control our future perception.
21 - Mask or Judgement - The thought of the self. The masks we wear and judge ourselves by.
22 - Bondage - The enslavement of our ego self to desire. The ego wants and believes it acts, yet lacks real power to effect change.
23 - Mirror - The process by which a thing look upon itself and discerns self from other. Futility of knowledge of the objective in acknowledgement of the reality of the subjective.
24 - Rapture - Product of pure desire that craves nothing and all things.
25 - Moon - Qualia. The redness of red. The sense of experience apart from its information content. The awareness of that which cannot be known or described but is experienced.
26 - Aeon - The advancement of knowledge beyond knowledge. Knowing the limits of what can be known. Speaking in silence.
27 - Shadows - The shattered unity of the objective. The multiple actual. Superposition in quantum mechanics. The multiverse.
28 - Stage - The shattered unity of the subjective. The self as no longer identity but the stage upon which the ego selves appear.
Dragon Princess Saggan – Advanced – Legend of the Cryptids concept by Billy Christian
creepy girl ask meme
doll: some of your favorite makeup products
bruise: the worst wound you've ever received
taxidermy: your favorite animal(s)
eyeball: some of your favorite films
syringe: someone you trust with everything
porcelain: your favorite article of clothing
plush: your favorite childhood toy
blood: some of your favorite foods
pentagram: your faith or spirituality
splatter: your favorite artists or art pieces
teacup: some of your favorite beverages
corpse: something you would love to do but can't
knife: something you're good at cooking or baking
lollipop: some of your favorite candy
monster: your worst habits
pills: something you'd change about yourself
potion: something you'd change about humanity
asylum: your favorite place in the world
mantis: your sexual orientation
stitches: some of your self-care habits
velvet: your favorite era for fashion and aesthetics
teeth: something that makes you laugh
piano: something that makes you cry
witch: a power you wish you had
chainsaw: your favorite sound
ribbon: your favorite color combinations
pigtails: how affectionate you are
succubus: your weirdest kinks
ghost: a historical figure you're drawn to
lullaby: songs you love to sing
this literally changed my mood 180°
IT’S FACE WHEN IT POPS
<3_<3
LOOK AT THESE BEAUTIFUL CREATURES
every time I reblog this my sister sends me a message to the effect of “thank u for reposting that cat video on your tumblr i have seen it so many times but it delights me every time because their paws are so gentle and graceful”
HOLY SHIT, IT WAS THE ORIGINAL ONE
MAKE A WISH
the first post ever on tumblr
I WAS EXPECTING IT TO BE A REMAKE OF SOME SORT HOLY FUCK
WHO THE FUCK KEEPS BRINGING THIS BACK
reblog this because it shows up every blue moon
I FOUND IT ✊
I WAS SO SCARED IT WOULDNT BE THE ORIGINAL
Who first posted this?
I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO END WITH A MEME OR SOME SHIT NO IT’S THE REAL ONE OH MY GOD
Wishing I’ll do well on my finals ✨
Irish people; The faeries aren’t real
Irish people; No fucking way will I go in that faerie ring
#look#you don’t go in a fairy ring and you don’t fuck with a stone in the middle of a field#these are just facts#nobody does it#fairies will fuck you up#Ireland#folklore#fairies (Via @false-dawn)
Look, I don’t believe in God, but I will not disrespect the Good Gentlemen of the Hills. That’s just common sense.
Between this and the Icelanders with their elves I do not understand what is going on above the 50th parallel.
My general rule of thumb: you don’t have to believe in everything, but don’t fuck with it, just in case.
^^^ that part
This is truer than true. Especially the Irish part.
Let me tell you what I know about this after living here for nearly thirty years.
This is a modern European country, the home of hot net startups, of Internet giants and (in some places, some very few places) the fastest broadband on Earth. People here live in this century, HARD.
Yet they get nervous about walking up that one hill close to their home after dark, because, you know… stuff happens there.
I know this because Peter and I live next to One Of Those Hills. There are people in our locality who wouldn’t go up our tiny country road on a dark night for love or money. What they make of us being so close to it for so long without harm coming to us, I have no idea. For all I know, it’s ascribed to us being writers (i.e. sort of bards) or mad folk (also in some kind of positive relationship with the Dangerous Side: don’t forget that the root word of “silly”, which used to be English for “crazy”, is the Old English _saelig_, “holy”…) or otherwise somehow weirdly exempt.
And you know what? I’m never going to ask. Because one does not discuss such things. Lest people from outside get the wrong idea about us, about normal modern Irish people living in normal modern Ireland.
You hear about this in whispers, though, in the pub, late at night, when all the tourists have gone to bed or gone away and no one but the locals are around. That hill. That curve in the road. That cold feeling you get in that one place. There is a deep understanding that there is something here older than us, that doesn’t care about us particularly, that (when we obtrude on it) is as willing to kick us in the slats as to let us pass by unmolested.
So you greet the magpies, singly or otherwise. You let stones in the middle of fields be. You apologize to the hawthorn bush when you’re pruning it. If you see something peculiar that cannot be otherwise explained, you are polite to it and pass onward about your business without further comment. And you don’t go on about it afterwards. Because it’s… unwise. Not that you personally know any examples of people who’ve screwed it up, of course. But you don’t meddle, and you learn when to look the other way, not to see, not to hear. Some things have just been here (for various values of “here” and various values of “been”) a lot longer than you have, and will be here still after you’re gone. That’s the way of it. When you hear the story about the idiots who for a prank chainsawed the centuries-old fairy tree a couple of counties over, you say – if asked by a neighbor – exactly what they’re probably thinking: “Poor fuckers. They’re doomed.” And if asked by anybody else you shake your head and say something anodyne about Kids These Days. (While thinking DOOMED all over again, because there are some particularly self-destructive ways to increase entropy.)
Meanwhile, in Iceland: the county council that carelessly knocked a known elf rock off a hillside when repairing a road has had to go dig the rock up from where it got buried during construction, because that road has had the most impossible damn stuff happen to it since that you ever heard of. Doubtless some nice person (maybe they’ll send out for the Priest of Thor or some such) will come along and do a little propitiatory sacrifice of some kind to the alfar, belatedly begging their pardon for the inconvenience.
They’re building the alfar a new temple, too.
Atlantic islands. Faerie: we haz it.
The Southwest is like this in some ways. You don’t go traveling along the highways at night with an empty car seat. Because an empty car seat is an invitation. You stick your luggage, your laptop bag, whatever you got in that seat. Else something best left undiscussed and unnamed (because to discuss it by name is to go ‘AY WE’RE TALKING BOUT YA WE’RE HERE AND ALSO IGNORANT OF WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF’ at the top of your damn lungs at them) will jump in to the car, after which you’re gonna have a bad time.
If you’re out in the woods, you keep constant, consistent count of your party and make sure you know everyone well enough that you can ID them by face alone, lest something imitating a person get at you. They like to insert themselves in the party and just observe before they strike. It’s a game to them. In general you don’t fuck with the weird, you ignore the lights in the sky (no, this isn’t a god damn night vale reference, yes I’m serious) and the woods, you lock up at night and you don’t answer the door for love or money. Whatever or whoever’s knocking ain’t your buddy.
^ So much good advice in this post right here
I live in the south and… you just… don’t go into the woods or fields at night.
Don’t go near big trees in the night
If you live on a farm, don’t look outside the windows at night
I have broken all these rules.
I’ve seen some shit.
If it sounds like your mom, but you didn’t realize your mom is home…. it’s not your mom. Promise.
One walked onto the porch once. Wasn’t fun. But they’re not super keen on guns. Typically bolt when they see one.
You think it’s the neighbor kids.
It’s not the neighbor kids.
Might sound like coyotes but you never really /see/ the coyotes but then wow that one cow was reaaaaaally fucked up this morning. The next night when you hear another one screaming you just turn the tv up a little more. Maybe fire a gun in the air but you don’t go after it. If it is coyotes then it’s probably a pack and you seriously don’t want to fuck with that and if it’s the other thing you seriously REALLY don’t want to fuck with that.
So in the south, especially near the mountains, you just go straight from your car to inside your house, draw your curtains and watch tv.
If you see lights in the fields just fucking leave it alone.
Eyes forward. Don’t be fucking stupid. Mind your own business. Call your neighbors and tell them to bring the cats in. There’s coyotes out. Some of them know. Most of them don’t.
Other than that everything’s a ghost and they died in the civil war. Literally all of everything else is just the civil war. We used to smell old perfume and pipe tobacco in the weeks leading up to the battle anniversaries.
Shit’s wild and I sound fucking crazy but I swear to god it’s true.
Every time this post comes around, it’s my favorite to open up the notes and read the stories. Probably shouldn’t have since I’m sleeping alone tonight, but you know, it’s fine. 😂
Austrian girl here who has lived in Ireland for 5+ years. This shit is LEGIT. I’ve seen it with my own two Catholic eyes.
Sure, visit during the day. That’s alright as long as you’re respectful. But you couldn’t PAY ME ENOUGH to go there at night. These are also the last places where you wanna start littering.
I grew up in southwest Pennsylvania which is a weird mixture of American cultures and environments. I was in the heavily forested mountains (northern Appalachia) but had lots and lots of corn fields and cow pastures. Like the Smoky Mountains and fields of Kansas combined. And being so cut off from a lot of the world, we had our fair share of ghost stories.
We had ‘witches’ in the mountains (more like ghost-women who will snatch you up by making you wander in a daze around the forest like the Blair Witch before killing you or letting you back out into society but you’re… different). Or devils in springs or abandoned wells (don’t look too long into one or something will follow you).
But we also had the cornfield demons. I’ve witnessed this many times. You’ll be in the passenger seat looking out the window and see red glowing eyes in the cornfield. No light shining in that direction. Just two red dots a few inches apart faintly glowing in a pitch black cornfield. They’re not the glow of deer eyes in the headlights. More like the embers of a dying fire. Sometimes, as you drive away, you’ll look out the back window or side mirror and you can see the eyes have moved to the edge of the corn field, still watching you. If you bring it up with the driver, they’ll call you paranoid, but grip the wheel a bit tighter and driver a little faster.
I was walking to a friend’s house one night. It was about 20 minutes down a dirt road with forest on one side and a cornfield on the other. I’ve walked past it many times and wasn’t really concerned. My main worry was coming across a skunk or porcupine. I didn’t have a flashlight because the moonlight was bright enough and I knew the walk really well. Then I saw the eyes. I immediately averted mine (because for some reason that’s how to not annoy it) but they kept wandering back. They were still there, watching. I heard rustling and saw the eyes come closer and I took off running. I got to my friends without a scratch, but I was terrified. I mentioned it to my friend and that’s when I found out it was A Thing. Her parents agreed and shared their stories. I brought it up more and almost everyone knew what I was talking about. It was a phenomenon a lot of folks around town experienced but never mentioned. To this day, I don’t linger around poorly light cornfields at night.
Faeries and Wee Folk and Liminal Spaces, oh myyyy…
I just…yes. This. All of this. And then some.
You don’t have to understand it. You don’t have to believe in it.
But if you know what’s good for you, DON’T FUCK WITH IT.
I was born and raised in the city. My grandparents lived in the outskirts, but then decided to move back to a small mountain town my grandmother’s family used to live in. By small I mean it has less than 20 houses, and everyone knows everyone. It is an old little place, perched on the side of the mountain, with buildings made of stones. Right under it, there are fields, and then the woods.
The first time I visited (more or less 7 years ago) my grandomother was very careful to warn me not to go out when it’s dark. She’s the same woman who taught me about myths and legends, and told me that there are things wandering around. We don’t know who they are, or what they are, but they like to stroll through the town when they know it’s quiet. Usually they are calm, but sometimes they try to get people to come with them back into the woods. They make you see things, imitate noises and voices. They won’t let you come back.
I was skeptical, but I obeyed.
Fast forward to 3 years ago.
I was spending the month with my grandparents, and it was only the three of us since my family decided to stay in Rome. One day around 9 pm (the sun had just set) I was in the kitchen on the second floor, reading at the table, when I my grandmother called me from the garden. The window was open, so I clearly heard her shout “Giorgia! Can you come down a second?”
It wasn’t the first time it had happened: my grandmother had a dog who was pretty old and had trouble walking, so she’d call me down into the garden from time to time to help her move him back inside. But she never asked me to go out at night.
“Is everything okay?” I yelled, still sitting at the table “You need help?”
“Can you come down a second?” she repeated.
I just thought “Meh” and stood up to go downstairs to the lobby and reach the garden-
-and I met my grandmother in the hallway.
I asked her “You don’t need help anymore?”. She just stared at me, so I explained that I heard her call me from the garden.
“You didn’t look down from window, did you?”
I shook my head, and she calmly walked into the kitchen and closed the window.
“You shouldn’t go out, it’s dark.” she told me, getting a bottle of water from the fridge. Like nothing had happened.
“But I heard you call-”
“It’s dark, Giorgia.”
That’s when I fully realized that it wasn’t my grandmother who tried to get me to go out in the night.
And that’s why I don’t fuck with the unknown.
Local legend time.
Here in Central Indiana, there are two local paranormal sites less than ten minutes from my house. The first is Sunken Road.
Sunken Road is this little, one-lane dirt road that runs between two country roads. It runs through a relatively low-lying area that floods a lot, and is pretty marshy in general, covered in this patches of scraggly marsh-forest (a horrible description, but you know what I mean). At one point in the road, it drops down real sharp about five feet, levels out for maybe fifty yards, and goes back up. There’s where the problem is: way back when, they were trying to build a bridge over this dip, because it especially floods. No ones ever said why- I myself probably think it’s an Indian curse, as related to the second legend- but A LOT of people died trying to make this damn bridge. Horses and men drowned or went missing, to the point that they gave up building the thing. You don’t go down this road on a full moon; personally, I think moonless nights are just as bad. People say, on the right night- Halloween, the solstices, New Years, it varies depending on the version- you can still hear the horses scream as they or their masters sink into the muck.
The other legend is Thirteen Graves. Long story short, back in the 1800s, the locals hung a bakers dozen of Indians. Instead of handing the bodies back to the tribe, they buried them in unmarked graves in this local cemetery; I’ve been here only because some of my ancestors are buried there, and Tobago was in broad daylight. Anyway, when they buried these guys, they put these big slabs of rock- limestone or concrete- on top. Can’t remember why, but I’d guess it was to prevent either the locals or the tribe digging them back up. One of the graves particularly is special. Walk along and count them, and you’ll get thirteen; turn and walk back the other way, and you might only get twelve. Supposedly, this one grave, it the right amount of moonlight, gives off a certain glow, though none of the others do. I wouldn’t know; when my friends dragged us there one night, I never got out of the car, and made sure to lock the doors.
Okay look, people always say “Let’s go to Bali for a holiday”, but Bali isn’t known as the Island of the Gods for nothing. Those candle offerings you see next to statues all over the road? And next to trees? They contain beings that you MUST be respectful to. I have heard so many stories of people snuffing candles out, only to accidentally end up in a hospital one way or the other.
Point is, don’t fucking mess with the other side, and be respectful for cultures and old myths even if you don’t believe them.
DoNt FuCk WiTh It EsPeCiAlLy If YoU dOnT kNoW mUcH aBoUt/BeLiEvE iT
I really like horns, so here, have a set horns, antlers and feelers! Feel free to use as a reference or inspiration, no need to credit. :)
This is so important!
Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.
Of fucking course
What sick bastard doesn’t
“You’d be surprised”, said Xaldien, who just lost four followers and received a lovely “men can’t be raped” anon shortly after reblogging this the first time.
Yowch, disgusting.
If I don’t reblog this, assume I’m dead.
Always reblog this
If you Dont reblog this if u see it then i cant call u my friend
IF ANYONE TELLS ME THAT MEN CAN’T BE VICTIMS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AND RAPE, I AM SICKENED BY THEIR MERE PRESENCE ON MY BLOG.
If you disagree with me, unfollow my blog, block me and never look at my blog again.
If you want to debate about this or send anon’s about this, I will reply but your actions have consequences.
Out of 19000+ followers I have, only one of you actually reblogged about this issue, yet a lot of you have reblogged and liked a picture by playboy about catcalling and that how men should never do it.
Additionally, I have received abuse in my ask box (which I will be answering when I can) and threats. In particular death threats and rape threats.
I can see the real problem here already. Male domestic violence and rape is just invisible in our society because we don’t want to talk about this because it just damages the status quo of this fucking website.
I’m a male victim of child sexual abuse. We matter. Please, reblog this.
Please never forget male victims are real and it can happen to everyone/anyone
Make sure the romance is there on both sides people
Screw people who don’t believe in male rape.
Everyone can be raped and denying that because of your childish, pathetic hatred for men is quite frankly disgusting.
We should care about our mens just as much as our womens.
I can’t believe there are people who won’t reblog this…
Throne of Glass Villains
Erawan , Maeve and Mother Blackbeak
