I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

★

titsay

Product Placement
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Not today Justin

🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

Andulka
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
YOU ARE THE REASON
Sade Olutola
EXPECTATIONS
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
trying on a metaphor

izzy's playlists!

@theartofmadeline
occasionally subtle
The Bowery Presents
Xuebing Du
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@thealtarroom

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

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
"Mercy’s Hymn"
Female OC x Wolverine Logan Howlett (Origins/ Fox Trilogy) A Southern Gothic / Witchy Mutant Fanfiction Heavily inspired by Ethel Cain's discography Filed under: The Altar Room A/N: This is going to be an ongoing series thinking about posting it on other sites as we develop lol but I know I'm thinking novel here. (I know she'd fw this)
One
The highway stretched black and endless, the kind of night where even the stars seemed swallowed whole. Mercy Vale stood barefoot on the gravel shoulder, the hem of the long dirty white dress torn, a cigarette burning low between her fingers. Neon hummed in the distance — some forgotten gas station sign flickering red like a dying pulse.
She shivered against the cold air thinking about what had happened to her up until this point. It didn't matter now, she had to keep moving. Taking another drag she saw some hope in the approaching headlight.
Logan spotted her before she even raised her thumb. He should’ve kept driving. Everything in him said don’t stop, don’t get involved.
But her eyes — reminding him of the doe he nearly hit a few miles back, caught the headlights she looked like a ghost of a woman — it made his foot press the brake before his brain caught up. The truck lurched to a stop as he flipped the lock.
She slid into the passenger seat without a word, smelling like smoke, old booze, a twinge of something metallic - blood. The truck rattled back onto the road, gravel kicking up from the tires.
“What are you doing out here so late? You runnin' from somethin'?” he finally asked breaking the silence between the two strangers.
She turned her face toward the window, voice low, almost a hymn: “Not something. Everything.”
The way the words lingered made the radio crackle, filling the silence with static that surrounded them. Logan tightened his grip on the wheel. He didn’t know if she was cursed, mutant, or worse. He only knew he wasn’t letting her out of this truck.
And Mercy Vale, last daughter of a line of witches, smiled faintly in the dark — because she knew he couldn’t.
🌹 september favorites 🌹
🎶 playlist of the month
☽⭒.✦.⭒☾
📖 reading: Just Kids by Patti Smith 🌹 obsession: red taper candles at my vanity and van helsing 🕯️altar: alice in wonderland tarot deck and green aventurine die
🖤 vibe : candlelit conversations with my journal and a joint

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
The Altar Room
admittance now permitted
✦ ┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄ ✦ a digital grimoire & archive stories · rituals · me
☽⭒.✦.⭒☾