Crossroads symbolize the joining of paths the making of decisions. In almost every culture it is a sacred place where rituals are held, offerings are left, and items are disposed of.
Crossroads are sacred to Hecate, Triformis, and Diana. Hecates three ‘faces’ protect each of the different paths. Hecate sees past, present, and future. She rules all places where there are three or more crossroads. Altars are put at the crossroads to leave Hecate offerings and give devotion. The crossroads are also thought to be protected by Hermes and Diana.
Due to the hatred of witchcraft by the Christians, Witches and burglars alike were hung and buried at the crossroads. Making people believe they are haunted. It is also a place where people supposedly go to sell their soul to the devil.
Witches believe the crossroads to be a sacred place where rituals are done and dirt is collected. Spell remains are often buried at the crossroads. It is where interaction with spirits and other worldly forces are heightened. It is a place to contact and leave offerings for spirits. Samhain is celebrated at the crossroads.
In the Hoodoo religion, many of their rituals are done at the crossroads.This is also shown in European and African folklore.
In Africa almost every group has their own Deity that guards the crossroads.
OH YA’LL THOUGHT I WAS DONE? YA’LL THOUGHT I WASN’T GONNA POST NO VDAY NASTINESS? WELL YOU WAS WRROOOOOONNNNGGGG!
Request: The way you write dom Elliot is just.. holy shit so good!! A fic with
some heavy choking and just general rough sex would be A+ tbh
Thank you babe!!! This request was A+ tbh, love me some heavy choking and rough
sex so I probably got carried away with this one. ENJOY LOVES
was kind of a part 2 to yes sir?? I just thought it would carry on nicely from
Breath play, rough sex, daddy/sir kink, the usual. Idrk what came over me
during the creation of this particularly nasty piece.
Since the evening
you and Elliot first had sex, things had been different. He was more
comfortable around you, more open, casual touching was now something he was
slowly becoming at ease with. It seemed the experience had melted away a lot of
his insecurities regarding your relationship, although he was still awkward and
improvements were welcome ones, but your favourite improvement was the texts
you’d receive from Elliot while at work.
‘Thinking about you. Come over after work.’
You would blush like a schoolgirl, and for the rest of the day he was all you
could think about. No one could make you cum like Elliot did, no one could make
you see stars like Elliot did, and no one could leave you in the heavenly state
of satisfaction that Elliot did.
different ways of tying you up, varying the kinds of knots he used and
restraining you in delicious new positions. Sometimes he used toys, sometimes
he simply utilized his sinfully talented mouth and hands. You’d had sex in just
about every part of his apartment, minus one place. His sacred place. The place
you wouldn’t dare touch, let alone have sex in.
His computer desk.
But there was one
big problem with this unspoken restriction. The fact that it was forbidden in a
sense only made you want to do it more, made you want to desecrate it, tie
filthy memories all over it in the same way you had the rest of his home.
However, you had no idea how to propose this to Elliot. You assumed since he’d
never suggested it himself, and his protectiveness over that desk, that he
would be against it.
The part of you
that deeply respected Elliot’s personal and private space was fine with it and
understood, but the part of you that needed Elliot anywhere and any way you
could have him desperately wanted to ignore the former. You resigned yourself
to the conclusion that you’d never know until you plucked up the courage to
In fact, you were
going over to Elliot’s apartment tonight. The pair of you planned on getting
takeout and spending the night together. You decided you would gauge his mood,
maybe ask him depending on how relaxed he seemed. It was tricky territory, and
the thought of him getting mad made you nervous. You were never sure what
exactly would make him angry, but you’d seen him furious before and did not
want to be on the receiving end.
Your shift drags
almost painfully, just as it always does when you have plans to see Elliot. You
check the time obsessively, hoping a significant amount of time will have
passed, until the golden hour arrives. Five o’clock. You’re a little shaky,
having spent most of your time at work running over scenarios in your head of
how Elliot might receive your proposition.
Despite this, you
pack up your things, stop by the employee bathroom on the way out to check your
makeup, then leave the building. You spend the entire subway ride fidgeting,
getting turned on at the mere thought of what was waiting for you at the end of
it. Elliot has a hold on you that you’ve never experienced before. He could
cross your mind innocently and have your thighs clenching.
You left the
underground and powerwalked to Elliot’s apartment. You’d dressed nicer than
usual to work; you were feeling confident. Your hair done just the way that
frames your face best and your favourite office outfit that fits you so well it
makes your colleagues do a double take.
Once in the lobby
of his apartment building, you take your heels out of your bag and change back
into them from the flats you use to commute. Only then do you ascend the
stairs, ready to tempt Elliot for all you were worth. Your nerves resurface
when you reach his apartment door.
You nudge the door
slightly and find it unlocked, you smile to yourself. Taking a breath, you push
the door open and walk in.
“El?” You call
“In here.” His low
voice responds. Your footsteps are slow as you approach him, to your delight,
he’s seated at his desk typing away.
You make a daring
move, resting your hands on his shoulders. Hovering them above before actually
placing them on him so as to warn him, to give him a chance to refuse the contact.
Your chest warms at the way he leans in ever so slightly into your hands.
“Hard at work?”
You ask, the smile audible in your voice.
You see the side
of his cheek pull back in a half smile. He finishes whatever it is he’s typing
and turns to look up at you. You watch as his eyes rove appreciatively down
your body. He wets his lips subconsciously.
“You look good.”
“I might have made
a little more of an effort today.” You tease.
“Why’s that?” To
someone who didn’t know Elliot as well as you do, it would appear he hadn’t got
the hint at all, but you knew he was playing along. It excited you.
“I had an
important meeting today.” You smirk. He cocks an eyebrow.
“Whoever it was
with was lucky.”
You round his
chair, going to stand in front of him. You lean against his desk experimentally,
crossing your legs at the ankles and placing your hands behind you. You gauge
his reaction, he seems more occupied by you than you touching his desk.
“He’s a pretty
influential guy. Good looking too.” You explain, enjoying this little roleplay
the two of you have going on.
“I’m sure he
thought the same about you.” Your thighs clench at this.
“I might have even
made a move on him if the circumstances weren’t so professional.” You flirt.
“I doubt he’d have
turned you down, regardless of professionalism.” Elliot’s words were such a
contrast to the monotonous voice he said them in, the ambiguity of his manner
of speech was strangely exciting.
“Oh really.” You
muse, uncrossing your legs so that your skirt hiked up a little. You spot the
way Elliot’s hands twitch, as if resisting the desire to grab you. “Maybe I
should have in that case.” You look Elliot in the eye, urging him on. He
reaches out, hesitantly to begin with, then grips your thighs tightly.
“We could get into
trouble for this, Mr. Alderson.” You whisper.
“I don’t fucking
care.” He growls, his arousal bringing on the dominant persona he adopted during
all your sexual altercations. His hands are trailing up your thighs, maintaining
an intense gaze on your body at all times. “How long have you been thinking about
“All fucking day.”
You groan. His blunt nails suddenly dig into your skin.
appreciate that kind of language from my employees.”
“I’m sorry sir-“
“Get on your knees
and show me you’re sorry.”
It’s almost as
though his words control your body rather than your own decisions; you slip
down from the desk onto your knees. You undo the button on Elliot’s pants,
unfastening them eagerly. His half-hardened dick comes free, right into your
waiting hands. You waste no time in putting him between your lips, tasting his
As your head rises and falls on his groin, you
catch sight of the way he white-knuckles the arm rests of his chair, short
breaths escaping his lips as you suck.
“Mm fuck.” He
groans, wrapping his fingers in your hair, ruining its perfect style. But you
couldn’t care less, you want him to ruin you tonight.
Just as you’re
speeding up your rhythm, he yanks you off him and throws you to the floor. You’re
a little disorientated, but unhurt. You know Elliot would never cause you harm.
“Get the fuck up.”
He orders you. You do so, with an obedient ‘yes sir’. “Sit on my dick.”
You had to
restrain yourself from clapping with glee, you were going to fuck Elliot in his
computer chair. It was a little ridiculous, but it was your dream come true. You
hike your skirt up, then move to pull your panties to the side but Elliot stops
“Did I tell you to
do that yet?”
“No sir. Sorry
You rest your
hands either side of his keyboard, trying to catch a glimpse of what he’s doing
in the reflection of the dark computer screens. He feels up the globes of your
ass, before pulling your panties down.
“Step out of them.”
You comply. “Now take a seat.” Again, you comply.
You lower yourself
oh so slowly down onto Elliot’s cock, clenching your walls around him. They
were so slick that he slid in with virtually no trouble, the pair of you
moaning in unison. He pulled you back, left hand tight on your chin and the
other sliding up, under your shirt to grope your breasts.
“What do you say?”
“Thank you sir.”
His left hand
dragged from your chin down to your throat, and your heart began to race with
excitement, you knew what he was about to do.
“Move.” He murmurs
in your ear, and you do just that. You begin to bounce on his cock and his hand
tightens around your neck.
When you go down,
he thrusts up, creating a deliciously forceful friction against your g-spot
every time, within minutes you’re already close to cumming. From your vantage
point, every time you go down you’re able to catch a glimpse of Elliot’s face
in the screen. His expression when in the throes of passion is fucking
stunning. His furrowed brows, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth, his eyes
watching you relentlessly.
And that’s when
your mind flashes with an image that sends a metaphorical lightbulb dinging
above your head.
“Sir, can I ask
you something?” You say breathlessly, struggling a little to get your words out
with his grip so tight around your throat.
exhales heavily, continuing to thrust into you with unforgiving force.
“Can I… Can I turn
the camera on?” You ask, nearly whispering. Elliot’s pace falters, your request
obviously taking him off guard.
“You know how I
feel about that stuff, Y/N.” Elliot growls, still not stopping. You do know. He
reminds you every time you hint at sending him dirty pictures. But he doesn’t
know how you feel.
“I know it’s
dangerous, but just think. You’re all alone, I can’t stay over and you’re
horny. You just have to turn your computer on, press play and you can watch
yourself fu- screwing me.” You must sound ridiculous, bargaining with him in
such a strained voice, crying out between words.
You can’t tell if
he’s mad, in agreement or what, he just continues fucking you. His dick sending
your cunt into overdrive. You’re painfully oversensitive at this point, your
climax coming very soon. And this could be the pushing point.
“Sir, don’t you
want to get me cumming all over your dick on camera?”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,
turn it on right fucking now.”
Elliot’s voice is
a mixture of frustration and desperation, reaching around you to turn the
monitor on and get the camera software up. You help him out, ripping the piece
of tape covering the camera off and clicking record.
“Now you better
cum harder than you’ve ever fucking cum before. Give daddy a show.” He mutters,
he sounds so furious and it only serves to turn you on more.
Enough to send you
spiraling into the hardest fucking orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. All
Elliot’s rules for this encounter go out of the window.
shit!” You scream as you squirt cum all over his lap.
“Just like that
you dirty, little slut.” Elliot snarls, his hand returning to it’s rightful
place around your throat.
“I’m your dirty,
little slut, daddy.” You cry, actual tears rolling down your cheeks from the
intensity of your elation.
right. You want daddy’s cum now?”
Please daddy, shoot your cum inside my pussy.” You encourage him, rocking
backwards and forwards on his cock for friction.
grip on you becomes painfully tight, making you choke. You can feel his
fingertips bruising your tits.
“Ah fucking take
it.” He cries out, hips pistoning into you erratically. You can feel him
emptying himself inside you, painting your walls creamy white.
You manage to
recover enough to click the stop button on the recording. You sigh in
satisfaction, leaning back against Elliot.
read flowers in the attic, anil’s ghost, dreamtigers, flower children, song of solomon, esperanza rising, who cooked the last supper, books on mythology and books on the properties of flowers and herbs
watch a nos amours, don’t deliver us from evil, kings of summer, moonrise kingdom, beasts of the southern wild, stealing beauty, totoro, psychout for murder, waterlilies, romeo + juliet, smooth talk, dazed and confused, empire records, stoker, as you are, avatar the last airbender, new twin peaks
go to europe (sleep on trains draw strangers wander through open fields see grampa dance a lot hike through cities drink good cheap wine), make a map of every sacred place i’ve been to, revisit the enchanted forest, feel whole and holy at fort reno, work or live on a farm for a bit, get my ears pierced, get a stick n poke of “17″ or a shooting star, get my license but bike and walk everywhere, design new clothes and sell them, daydream on my roof for hours, go on food adventures, visit haunted places, tend to the garden, press flowers and make flower tattoos, spend time with the people that matter, find fields and forests with magic in them to walk in with friends, picnic, make s’mores, walk through thunderstorms, walk through the night, make a girl band, fall in love or in SOMETHING, hold rituals to harness the power of the summer and stop time, make potions, make a movie and/or a graphic novel that encapsulates my time here, publish my archive of high school journals as a zine, hold dance parties
BE TRUE AND LOVELY AND BRAVE AND DOCUMENT EVERYTHING
What do you think would happen if the Hwarang were put into one if those stereotypical horror movies that make you scream at the characters for making bad decisions?
Somehow Ah Ro, Soo Yeon, and Han Sung managed to survive the shitstorm. Ah Ro has a ton of knowledge on the supernatural (thanks to her love for the show Supernatural), Soo Yeon is hella good at both fighting and self-defense thanks to her brother, and Han Sung was the only Hwarang who seems to not fall for horror movie tropes. He knows when to GTFO, because he used to watch this non-stop as a means to help him survive.
Yeo Wool would be answering every single ringing phone, be distracted by the mirror, and complain the whole time how his looks were getting ruined as he gets killed. Somehow, he manages to blackmail the ghost/demon/killer in some way before the movie ends and that blackmail actually helps Ah Ro, Soo Yeon and Han Sung defeat and survive in the end.
Ban Ryu trips a lot regardless of where he’s running and he’s basically the one character that continues to fall every 5 seconds in a chase. He would also be the one that gets distracted by his books and not be aware of the fact that the lights are flickering or hear any footsteps. The ghost/demon/killer never gets him for some reason. Hell, sometimes they trip over him as they chase the others. He didn’t die from the ghost/demon/killer- he actually died from seeing too many bread loaves and chickens.
Ji Dwi would be the one who gets possessed all the time- while he’s high. Like, he does not know when he’s walking into some haunted/sacred place and somehow gets possessed every single time. But it only lasts for a few minutes before the ghost/demon finds Ji Dwi to be so boring that they just get out of his body. If it was a killer, he would be the one that breathes too loud when he hides and ends up being killed.
Soo Ho would be the drunk one that first discovers the ghost/demon/killer. He doesn’t tell anyone at first but he gives no shit and tries to fight the ghost/demon/killer every single time. He tries to be all manly and look as if he’s sacrificing his life for the ladies but he ends up on the ground within 5 seconds. The ghost/demon/killer would then get bored and just continue chasing the others. One of two things can happen: either he’s also part of the trio or dies in the process of “protecting” his sister. (aka, gets beaten within 5 seconds)
Sun Woo is the one who is always out of town and wonders what the fuck happened after the movie ends. He would be the one who’s skeptical about the weird things that are happening if there was a ghost/demon and end up bringing the ghost/demon back as a means of starting another sequel. Any movie that involve the killer would end with him appearing last minute to shoot the killer with a gunshot. And he just fucking shrugs it off and somehow gets off scot-free.
If Sook Myung is in the movie, she would end it in 5 minutes because the ghost/demon/killer would DIE before any shit happens.
/rant So anyways. I have a new little vanity and would like to use it for every day purposes and praying to Aphrodite as a place that's sacred to her. I feel this is okay since we do the same with Hestia and the kitchen/hearth (sacred and everyday being shared spaces) yet like the logistics of it as well. Idk. I'm a ball of confusion and need Jesus.
Ooooh @bayoread has a lovely post on using makeup as votive offerings to Aphrodite, if I remember correctly? Maybe that would prove to be of use to you anon? For what it’s worth, I think that using a vanity as a shrine to her is a wonderfully innovative idea.
Inspired by the post I reblogged a few hours ago and that I’m just coming from taking my parents to the airport, a local myth surrounding Aluxes.
If you ever come to Cancun, you’ll go above the bridge that is right outside the airport. This is considered the main entrance -and exit- of Cancun. Well, if you go to under it -which you won’t if you go straight to the Hotel Zone or to Playa del Carmen- you might get to see a tiny temple under it.
You might think this is just for decoration, but if it would be, you’ll notice that is in a rather odd place. Heck, you might not even notice it unless someone points it out. So why is it there?
Well, you see, when the airport was being build, the first thing they got into was the bridge. The first weird thing that they started noticing was the disappearance and damage of tools and machinery. The next day after it was finished, the bridge was completely down. They rebuild it and the same thing happened. There was really nothing wrong with the bridge, it just… came down. This was when the local workers started speculating that this happened because the zone might be sacred and that aluxes were trying to protect it. Of course, the main people on the project dismissed this as nonsense.
After the bridge came down the fourth time the contractors and the like decided that it wouldn’t hurt to bring a shaman to exorcise the place. After the shaman did his ritual, he explained that they needed to build a sanctuary for the aluxes in a sign of respect. So the tiny temple under the bridge was constructed.
As you might see, the bridge finally stayed.
Since then, every time they do any sort of new project in that zone they do the ritual and build new sanctuaries at various places. This has really extended to the Yucatan Peninsula region as a whole. Every time there’s any sort of event at a place considered sacred they bring local shamans to do the appropriate rituals. There’ve been a couple of concerts at Chichen-Itza, a really sacred place, and they always do the rituals. In a particular Elton John concert they didn’t do the proceedings and on the day of the concert this happened…
hand in hand I just knew you knew me
every kiss planted grew wild flowers from within
rubbing places so sacred and pure and true
who knew it was a catch I didnt realize we were going fishing
I didnt realize there could potentially be another just when I thought
For every whisper and every laugh we made there was a duplicate
wondering if every promise was the same
I just knew we trusted each other from every word that seem to have met its action
and i loved you like you were mine with you knowing you were mine and hers and hers too
I just knew we were close as if weve been glued but it didnt dry it wasnt settled cause who knew all that confetti got stuck to you too
and even with knowing all this info I tried to ignore the nympho in you because the feelings I had were honest and true but facts state you cant change someone who doesnt feel the need to
so to her and her and to you
I truly believe im better off and with a kick start to healing and on to better cause im better off without
oh yeah and her and her too
It’s been two, maybe three months since the apocalypse.
The world still exists, in one manner or another. It isn’t the same, it hasn’t been the same, not since the Nemeton and every other place of sacred power on the planet exploded in an incredible cataclysm. Not since the surge of magical energy knocked out the reliability of most technology that had been developed in their lifetime. Not since the power went out and the Plague struck California.
It’s been two, maybe three months, and Stiles has been on his own.
The Event itself–he doesn’t have any better name for it–turned most of Beacon Hills into a smoking crater. Stiles had been lucky, he’d been out of town doing an errand, some stupid, meaningless errand for his father in the Jeep. The rest of the Pack, everyone that Stiles cared about–they hadn’t been as lucky. He was alone, and the whole world was out to get him.
Sometimes he comes back to the wreckage of the town. Stiles isn’t entirely sure why. Nostalgia or mourning or some mixed-up terrible hybrid of the two. He parks Roscoe at the edge of the ragged hole and stands on the running board, leaning his arms over the Jeep’s dirty roof. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe through the gas mask but that’s better than getting sick.
He really has no idea what he thought he’d find, there’s nothing left and he should be leaving the State entirely. He just can’t bring himself to quite go.