cut off ka sa'kin tignan mo boiset
tumblr dot com
todays bird
taylor price
d e v o n

Product Placement
YOU ARE THE REASON
RMH
dirt enthusiast

roma★
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me


titsay
occasionally subtle
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Keni
KIROKAZE
hello vonnie
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

shark vs the universe
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Ireland

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Romania
seen from United States
seen from Peru
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Colombia

seen from Germany

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
@magmuni-muni
cut off ka sa'kin tignan mo boiset

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Morning tea ❤️
Sweet Orange
PERSEPHONE????!?!!!???
She’s too beautiful not to reblog.
There is no "after the revolution." No "ideal world." I don't care how much progress we make, we will always fail someone, hurt someone, and the best thing we can do is accept that, and keep striving to make it better as we go.
And don't get me wrong, I don't say this to discourage anyone from trying to make that ideal world. Quite the opposite.
I feel like it's very naive to continue to approach these big changes we want to make in the world as if there's an "after it's all over" when we don't have to worry about it anymore.
We should always be striving to make life better, even when life seems pretty damn good.
@nothingbuttrashhere tags
Oh my god
I hadn’t thought to call it “rapture culture” but that’s EXACTLY what it is
"If [the Revolution] is seen as having any end, it will never truly begin."
--Ursula K. Le Guin, "The Dispossessed"

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
If Cthulhu can be summoned by humans who are so far beneath it, why can’t humans be summoned by ants? The answer is they should be.
Well if a bunch of ants formed a circle in my house I’d certainly notice, try to figure out where they’d all come from, and possibly wreak destruction there.
That’s why knowing and correctly pronouncing the true name is so important to the ritual. Imagine how impossible it would be to not go take a look if the circle of ants started chanting your name. And they’re like, you can’t leave because we drew a line made of tiny crystals - now you have to do us a favor. And you’re like, let’s just see where this goes “yup, you got me… what’s the favor?” and usually the favor is like, “kill this one ant for us” or “give me a pile of sugar” and you’re like… okay? and you do, because why not, it isn’t hard for you and boy is this going to be a fucking story to tell, these fucking ants chanting your name and wanting a spoonful of sugar or whatever. And SOMEtimes you get asked for things you can’t really do, one of them, she’s like, “I love this ant but she won’t pay any attention to me, make me important to her” and you’re like… um? how? So you just kill every ant in the colony except the two of them, ta-da! problem solved! and the first ant is like *horrified whisper* “what have I done”
for some reason my brain won’t let go of this one, so…. Meanwhile another colony of ants invades your house, and evidently that last ant has gotten some of them to join her in a circle and taught them the ritual because you’re coming out of the bathroom one day and you hear the ants singing your name. Sure enough it’s that ant, but she’s dark and fucked up now, and she’s like, “kill the queen. I will rule this colony” and you’re like, sure, I guess I kinda owe her, and you do it. And she manages to become queen, and they worship you. Which is cool, you’re not, you know, very important in the human world, but to these ants you’re practically all-powerful. You can’t be just, doing everything a bunch of ants tell you to, though, when would you watch netflx? So you tend to only show up for super important ants; you teach them some extra words and when hear them you go see what’s up. Usually. Also just to your name, if you’re bored. And, sometimes some of the ants are like, tell us more human names, and you’re kind of jealous of the idea of some other human diluting your private godhood, so you refuse. Your roommate Greg is like, yo, that’s fucking awesome, I want ant worshipers! But whenever he approaches any, they run away, because it turns out that the illusion of control from the named summoning is what makes them feel safe around you. That’s great, because Greg is a dick who never does the dishes, and one day you decide to teach Greg a lesson. So you show up at the colony, and you’re like, “yo, witch queen, did you think there would be no price for all these things? Your colony must do something for me, go to the Room of the Housemate, I will meet you there.” And you go sit on the couch and play Overwatch for a while. You’re like, right there, you can clearly see the ants all marching along the wall to Greg’s room, but to them you’re not even there, you’re so far away they can’t see you. It takes them, like, an ant week to make the journey. They have to figure out ways to get over and around things. Some of them drown, or get stepped on by the dog, or whatever. You win a game, you lose a game, you look over, and they’re trying to get through some cobwebs… looks like they’re mostly going to live, you keep playing, you look over, okay they’re all in there, and you stand up and walk over and by the time they’ve chanted your name once, you’re there. “right, hold on” and you look around and you see a twelve-pack of Greg’s precious fucking soda, that he keeps in his room and refuses to ever share, even though it’s a communal food household and you share your hot chocolate with him all the time. So you gather the ants unto you, and you poke a little hole in each of the sodas and you leave the room to the sound of the ants rejoicing. Greg will suspect of course, but he’ll never be able to prove the ants didn’t chew holes in the plastic and steal his stupid drinks. But later, while you’re at work, Greg destroys most of the colony in a rage, and you come home to find the witch queen gasping her last “the Dew of the Mountain, which you had us steal, was cursed - and so I lay my curse on you” and then she dies. Well first of all, you don’t really believe in curses, but last month you didn’t believe ants could know your name, so that’s unsettling. And second of all, you feel kind of bad. You know, not SUPER bad, cause she’s like, an ant. But still. And most importantly, third of all, Greg must pay. But Greg has done more than kill a bunch of the colony. As you wait for eggs and pupae to replenish the ant population, you discover he has found some ants that didn’t go on the Mountain Dew raid, and he’s spared them, told them his name, and made himself a good sized cult in YOUR fucking ant queendom. Greg has started locking his door. So now you NEED the ants. Once again you direct the ants loyal to you to journey to Greg’s room. You meet them at the door. A locked door means nothing to the ants, they don’t even know there is a door, and can barely perceive the difference between it being open and shut - either passing the threshold on the floor regardless, or being on its surface no matter the position. But you need them to get inside. You’re going to put itching powder in his underwear drawer and leave a raw fish under his bed. So you instruct the leading party of ants how to go into the Cave of Keyhole, and position the Magic Megaliths inside just right to enable the opening of the Great Door and allow you to pass into the Realm of Housemate. Crouched by the door, you can hear when your ants are met by a party of Greg Cultists, who insist that if the Great Door is opened, the colony will be doomed. There is fighting. Your ants prevail, the lock tumblers are moved into place, and you swing the door open… To find Greg! In his room all along! It’s a trap! His cultists attack you! I mean, they can’t do much real harm, but it kind of hurts and it’s super annoying. You order your ants to attack him, and they do, but he storms over and pours bleach down the colony entrance. Now you and Greg are at war, and you both understand the unspoken rules to your fight. You can’t do things directly to each other, why, that would be assault. But anything you can get your ants to do is fine, because “she told the ants to do it to me” isn’t going to get very far with any authority figures that get involved. Later, nursing your anger, you confer with your few remaining ants and stare moodily at your new prize, the ant farm that came in the mail. Bullet ants don’t usually get along with sugar ants, but you’re betting they will if a god tells them to. Meanwhile, you’ve got a laptop schematic to go over with your high priestess. It’s finals week, and if you time it right, he’ll lose everything…
Feel free to add your own stories paralleling human/otherworldly with insect/human interactions! I’m going to have this repost a few times because I want to see which of my mutuals are into this kind of thing because I’m preparing to test drive a fiction share and writing prompt project
The Idea of the old gods obeying us not because of supernatural reason, but because they think it’s funny to watch the tiny animals fight IS the answer to everything
@zuzu-and-friends, @bogleech, @tyrantisterror
“Human baffled at a bunch of ants inexplicably calling it by name” is a better characterization for an eldritch abomination than 99% of eldritch abominations in fiction.
reminder to:
straighten your back
go pee goddAMN IT STOP HOLDING IT
go take your meds if you need to
drink some water
go get a snack if you havent eaten in a while
maybe wander around the house/stretch a little if you’ve been sat at the computer a while (artists especially: sTRETCH THOSE WRISTS)
reply to that text/message from earlier you’d forgotten about
maybe send a nice lil message to someone having a bad day?
I just would like to thank everyone who ever reblogs this so that it somehow ends up back on my dash because I usually need the reminder (especially the drinking water one)
Hot take: No Face isn’t a symbol of greed and he actually represents how someone who has no identity becomes the environment they’re surrounded by.
Think about it; during the first half of the movie, everybody ignores No Face. They don’t ask why he’s just standing on the bridge, hell, they don’t even look at him. And his character (at least in this part of the movie) reflects that. He’s quiet, he doesn’t talk outside of an indicative “ah”, and he certainly isn’t eager to pursue what he wants (*insert Sin asking him if he wants to come inside and he’s just like “…” despite the fact that he ends up going inside anyways so he clearly WANTED to go inside he just didn’t want to ask for it*). Why doesn’t he talk or seek out his wants? Because he doesn’t have a sense of self that makes him feel that he can do these things. His actions are based on what he’s “supposed” to do depending on the environment he’s in. So, if he’s in an environment that doesn’t care about his wants and needs, he does what he’s “supposed” to do, and consequently doesn’t voice his wants and needs.
Fast forward to when he enters the bathhouse and is met with excessive attention after offering the employees gold. Here, No Face is given the opportunity to voice his wants, and he finally has the emotional space to find his voice. Too much space, that is. This is the part of the film where No Face becomes greedy, never being satisfied and always demanding more, a direct result of the bathhouse’s employees kissing his ass. Again, No Face acts like he is “supposed” to act in this situation, where he’s just a greedy bitch because he is allowed to be a greedy bitch, and everyone else just feeds into it.
But he doesn’t stay like this for the rest of the film, as he becomes polite and calm once he reaches Zeniba’s (i’m pretty sure that’s her name) house. No Face is treated with kindness and respect in this environment, which is why he becomes practically domesticated by the end of the film. Because he’s given the space to do so. And I think his character was a very clever and delicate way to explain how, when you are given a nourishing and warm environment, you are able to become a good person. Especially when you have nothing else to define yourself by.
Anyways, that was just my opinion on the matter, No Face is such an interesting character and there’s definitely a lot of ways one could interpret him and his accompanying symbolism.
and what do you do at nights when you don't feel loved enough? you destroy yourself. you tear your body to pieces for you to rebuild again in the morning. you're not the same person anymore, but you're not exactly reborn. you're just a collection of things you could have been.
Babe wake up, new alignment chart just dropped

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Careful what you say around muscular women 🥰
and what if i want you back? what if i did like you? what would become of me, if i chant your name over and over again, like a mantra to keep me steady, to keep me grounded as to not lose my sanity?
how may times do i have to manifest your existence till i can finally hold you? it's agonizing to think about you and what could have been of us. your absence leaves my heart cold and lonely, yet i can never froze because the very same absence of yours sets me ablaze - flaming and burning with passion, with determination to reunite with you. even though the mere thought of you terrorizes, i kept on craving for more.
if i prayed hard enough to whoever god that was listening, would you come back to my life again? because i'm ready to welcome you in my arms; to keep you safe and tucked away in my warmth, savoring the sensation of your presence that tingles my senses, that throws my nerves to a frenzy. i may trip here and there, stumble across rocky surfaces, but i am ready to love you: wholly, unconditionally, without a doubt.
A little bit sketchier than usual, but last ask motivated me to finish these bad boys
College/uni Jayce and Viktor (and I still don’t know the real difference between a college and an university)
mcspaghetti pls po
for the LAST TIME, i WON'T say it again, repeat after me:
the WIZARDS have a COUNCIL
the DRUIDS have an ARCHCIRCLE
the CLERICS have a PANTHEON
the WARLOCKS have a UNION
the SORCERERS have a GUILD
the BARDS have a COLLEGE
and the WITCHES have a HIGH COVEN
STOP trying to act as though all mages follow the demands of the wizards council or i am going to turn your teeth into bees about it

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
You’ve been sentenced to 400 years for multiple murders. It’s been 399 years and your jailers are starting to get nervous.
I was twenty… twenty-five, I think?… when I was sentenced. Four hundred years was a length of time I couldn’t even imagine. It was a length of time I don’t think anyone could imagine, even the judge. It was just a big showy number that let everyone know I’d never see the light of day again. The mages who cast the spells were dramatic about it, practically shouting the part about ‘until death claims you, or four hundred years hath passed, forsooth, thou shalt be imprisoned here’. They don’t waste that kind of magic on most prisoners, but I was special.
The Slayer, they called me then. The Monster of Sentan. I’d killed nineteen people… I remember that number because I was so furious that they stopped me so close to my goal of twenty-one. And I didn’t just kill ordinary people, no, but the Chosen of the Gods. The Great and Good. They were terrified of me. So they locked me away, to die forgotten.
It had been a little less than a hundred years when the king died without heir, and a civil war tore the country apart. When the fighting was all over, the losers were dragged down to the deepest cells under the castle, and the new king and his soldiers stopped and stared at me. “Who… who is this?” he asked, frowning. “Some victim of the usurper?”
People like cooks and jailers and scrubbers don’t change as easily as kings. The same man who’d been bringing me my meals since there was still brown in his hair and beard shuffled forward, hunched and grey now. “No, yer majesty,” he said humbly. “That be a special prisoner, from before the old king died.”
“Special? Special how?” He frowned, moving closer to my cell. “The old king died more than ten years ago. This woman must have been a child then. What could she have done to - “
“Don’t get too close, yer majesty,” the old man said sharply. “That’s the Monster of Sentan… an’ she bites.”
That was true. I do bite.
Keep reading
sorry couldnt stop thinking abt this
Look! a magnificent and creepy fanart for my Monster! I love it so much! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
You’ve been sentenced to 400 years for multiple murders. It’s been 399 years and your jailers are starting to get nervous.
I was twenty… twenty-five, I think?… when I was sentenced. Four hundred years was a length of time I couldn’t even imagine. It was a length of time I don’t think anyone could imagine, even the judge. It was just a big showy number that let everyone know I’d never see the light of day again. The mages who cast the spells were dramatic about it, practically shouting the part about ‘until death claims you, or four hundred years hath passed, forsooth, thou shalt be imprisoned here’. They don’t waste that kind of magic on most prisoners, but I was special.
The Slayer, they called me then. The Monster of Sentan. I’d killed nineteen people… I remember that number because I was so furious that they stopped me so close to my goal of twenty-one. And I didn’t just kill ordinary people, no, but the Chosen of the Gods. The Great and Good. They were terrified of me. So they locked me away, to die forgotten.
It had been a little less than a hundred years when the king died without heir, and a civil war tore the country apart. When the fighting was all over, the losers were dragged down to the deepest cells under the castle, and the new king and his soldiers stopped and stared at me. “Who… who is this?” he asked, frowning. “Some victim of the usurper?”
People like cooks and jailers and scrubbers don’t change as easily as kings. The same man who’d been bringing me my meals since there was still brown in his hair and beard shuffled forward, hunched and grey now. “No, yer majesty,” he said humbly. “That be a special prisoner, from before the old king died.”
“Special? Special how?” He frowned, moving closer to my cell. “The old king died more than ten years ago. This woman must have been a child then. What could she have done to - “
“Don’t get too close, yer majesty,” the old man said sharply. “That’s the Monster of Sentan… an’ she bites.”
That was true. I do bite.
Keep reading