she finally figured it out
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@theevilspoonoverlord
she finally figured it out

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.
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By ARTBYMOGA
I love that humans love the rain
Me too⌠but you sound like a not humanâŚ
He, he, he!

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.
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âMy mother-in-law was baking one of her awesome Black Forest cakes for my sister-in-lawâs birthday. She left the cake cooling and when she went to lookâŚâ Photos/caption by Annie Beckerâ
If not made for sits, why was it made of warms?
âIf not made for sits, why was it made of warms?â
The ineffable logic of felinity.
marvel vs dc
When youâre motivated to write smut out of spite
@nihilnovisubsole
Thing is, most today´s anti´s are too young to get the joke.
Which makes it doubly hilarious.
@ladydragon76
*cackles* Â I have absolutely written smut out of spite.
âŚYes, Iâd totally would. Have done. Will do~
just met my roommate and she informed me that we live on the same floor as the entire girlâs rowing team. i cant believe im about to enter a fanfic university au and my beefy butch girlfriend who can benchpress me is just one fateful laundry day away
junkrats arm is broken in the promo image for summer game and his neck is snapped in his victory pose so my theory that junkrat is actually just a group of rats piloting a really shitty corpse is probably true

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.
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The Face of Jupiter : JunoCam images arent just for art and science sometimes they are processed to bring a chuckle.
js
The next person you date is going to be the most miserable, stressed girl to ever have existed. And I will be eternally jealous Iâm not her.
I JUST TURNED ON MY OLD COMPUTER I HAD WHEN I WAS 11 FOR THE FIRST TIME AND THIS IS MY PASSWORD HINT OMG I CANâT STOP LAUGHING
if you die in the Midwest you respawn in a random cornfield
Irish people; The faeries arenât real
Irish people; No fucking way will I go in that faerie ring
#look#you donât go in a fairy ring and you donât 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 donât believe in God, but I will not disrespect the Good Gentlemen of the Hills. Thatâs 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 donât have to believe in everything, but donât 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 wouldnât 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, itâs ascribed to us being writers (i.e. sort of bards) or mad folk (also in some kind of positive relationship with the Dangerous Side: donât forget that the root word of âsillyâ, which used to be English for âcrazyâ, is the Old English _saelig_, âholyââŚ) or otherwise somehow weirdly exempt.
And you know what? Iâm 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 doesnât 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 youâre 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 donât go on about it afterwards. Because itâs⌠unwise. Not that you personally know any examples of people whoâve screwed it up, of course. But you donât 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 âhereâ and various values of âbeenâ) a lot longer than you have, and will be here still after youâre gone. Thatâs 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 â if asked by a neighbor â exactly what theyâre probably thinking: âPoor fuckers. Theyâre doomed.â 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 theyâll 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.
Theyâre building the alfar a new temple, too.
Atlantic islands. Faerie: we haz it.
The Southwest is like this in some ways. You donât 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 âAY WEâRE TALKING BOUT YA WEâRE HERE AND ALSO IGNORANT OF WHAT YOUâRE CAPABLE OFâ at the top of your damn lungs at them) will jump in to the car, after which youâre gonna have a bad time.
If youâre 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. Itâs a game to them. In general you donât fuck with the weird, you ignore the lights in the sky (no, this isnât a god damn night vale reference, yes Iâm serious) and the woods, you lock up at night and you donât answer the door for love or money. Whatever or whoeverâs knocking ainât your buddy.
^ So much good advice in this post right here
I live in the south and⌠you just⌠donât go into the woods or fields at night.
Donât go near big trees in the night
If you live on a farm, donât look outside the windows at night
I have broken all these rules.
Iâve seen some shit.
If it sounds like your mom, but you didnât realize your mom is homeâŚ. itâs not your mom. Promise.
One walked onto the porch once. Wasnât fun. But theyâre not super keen on guns. Typically bolt when they see one.
You think itâs the neighbor kids.
Itâs 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 donât go after it. If it is coyotes then itâs probably a pack and you seriously donât want to fuck with that and if itâs the other thing you seriously REALLY donât 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. Donât be fucking stupid. Mind your own business. Call your neighbors and tell them to bring the cats in. Thereâs coyotes out. Some of them know. Most of them donât.
Other than that everythingâs 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.
Shitâs wild and I sound fucking crazy but I swear to god itâs true.
Every time this post comes around, itâs my favorite to open up the notes and read the stories. Probably shouldnât have since Iâm sleeping alone tonight, but you know, itâs fine. đ
Austrian girl here who has lived in Ireland for 5+ years. This shit is LEGIT. Iâve seen it with my own two Catholic eyes.Â
Sure, visit during the day. Thatâs alright as long as youâre respectful. But you couldnât PAY ME ENOUGH to go there at night. These are also the last places where you wanna start littering.Â
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 âwitchesâ 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 youâre⌠different). Or devils in springs or abandoned wells (donât look too long into one or something will follow you).Â
But we also had the cornfield demons. Iâve witnessed this many times. Youâll 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. Theyâre not the glow of deer eyes in the headlights. More like the embers of a dying fire. Sometimes, as you drive away, youâll 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, theyâll call you paranoid, but grip the wheel a bit tighter and driver a little faster.
I was walking to a friendâs house one night. It was about 20 minutes down a dirt road with forest on one side and a cornfield on the other. Iâve walked past it many times and wasnât really concerned. My main worry was coming across a skunk or porcupine. I didnât 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 thatâs 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 thatâs 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 donât linger around poorly light cornfields at night.Â
Faeries and Wee Folk and Liminal Spaces, oh myyyyâŚ
I justâŚyes. This. All of this. And then some.
You donât have to understand it. You donât have to believe in it.
But if you know whatâs good for you, DONâT FUCK WITH IT.
For my followers that ask about Fae stuff.
Oh we talked about this the last time this post came around!! Weâre in South Central Texas. You shouldnât really go in public parks at night, or certain parts of them. There are things that live in old structures that are active at night. Each town has a Haunted Hotel, none of them are haunted. The Lexington is haunted af I canât even set foot there anymore. Galveston is just entirely a no-go?? Shadow men everywhere, especially on the sea wall. If youâre on the river, we have the Guadalupe and Comal through here, never pass a buoy thatâs sectioning off seemingly calm water. There are things that sleep there that donât want to be disturbed. On the flip side, if you take care of the river and her citizens, she will sometimes reward you! She is very kind. San Marcos at night is a liminal space. I was at Texas State for a short time, and there were many nights I would just wander. Itâs safe, and very calming. There a forest in Geronimo thatâs split down the middle, both sides are guarded, and neither guardian wishes to be disturbed. One is one with the boar, the other is a woman who wears a cloak that matches the bark on the trees she hides in as she watches you. There is a barn on an old abandoned piece of land, a whole estate, even has its own water tower. Technically thereâs two barns, one has scorch marks and graffiti, the other has a guardian, the scarecrow. Heâll chase you away, because he guards the efreet that was once summoned there. Most of these are personal experiences, though most of them were experienced by friends as well. Oh! And if thereâs ever anything trapped in the current at the base of a dam, no matter how small the dam is, donât try to retrieve it, itâs a lure left by the things hiding behind the buoys. Donât fall for them.
there shit in the cities too thoâŚ.
Meanwhile, Danes definitely believe in this shit and we respect our spirits and whatnot but there is no stopping a Dane from going and exploring some dangerous place at night
Irish-blooded witch in the corn state of Ohio here, and lemme tell ya, They are active here in the North too. You wouldnât think that Northwest Ohio would exactly be Their ideal home, but thereâs a local park about ten minutes from my house where They like to roam. During the day, itâs really nice. Iâll bring offerings and leave them around, talk to the trees and smile when they give me a quiet reply and leaves for my collection, They once left my friend and I a beautiful pink ribbon after we had a long walk. That all changes once dusk hits. And we made the mistake of finding a Hole Tree too. Hole Trees, according to my friends lore, allows one to see things that canât be seen. Its a tree that naturally has a hole going all the way through it. Itâs unwise to look directly through the hole in the tree, however. So, we found one, hurray! It was still light out, we talked kindly to it and tried our best not to disturb the area around us (it was hidden off the beaten path) and didnât look through the hole. Thatâs when we got lost. Now, this park isnât big. Itâs a good size, but it has maps posted and itâs hard to get turned around. We had been walking for probably half and hour to 45 minutes and figured weâd be out soon enough if we followed the path back. Two hours and nearly all our sunlight gone later we realized we messed up. None of the trees looked familiar, none of the paths would take us back to the parking lot, and we passed the same gazebo three times and /still/ couldnât find our way home. Eventually we made it out (after getting chewed out by a local Park Ranger) but it was honestly the closest thing to creepy thatâs ever happened to me. Needless to say, if you find the hole tree and hear the trees whisper to you, listen closely and walk away from the hole tree.
Trust your gut. Thereâs weird shit out their kids, so stay in your fucking lane and burn some incense when you get in the door.

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.
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this girl at work was like âwould you date a guy shorter than you?â and i said ânah fam.â and this other guy was like âdonât you think thatâs kinda shallow?â and i looked him dead in the eye and said âiâm a lesbian, carl.â
âiâm a lesbian, carlâ is now the official companion to âharold, theyâre lesbiansâ