extremely ugly

No filter witchcraft: let’s be fucking honest

So something occurred to me today.

I’m sure this is true of Tumblr and social media as a whole, and not just Witchblur, but it seems like a lot of witches, particularly if they are new, feel a certain degree of guilt when they see all these posts by Elder Witches with Ye Olde Grand Altar with Flawless Aesthetic and Perfect Perfectness at all times.

And let’s be honest.

None of us actually fucking live like that.

Our altars get dusty. Our workspaces get cluttered. Maybe our space isn’t very ideal to begin with, when we’re not carefully cropping out the crappy edges. Don’t lie: at most times apart from when we’re taking pictures for Witchblur or IG, it can look, well… not exceptionally magical. And certainly not as straight-up supernatural as it does after we’ve gotten done editing it within an inch of its life.

So I propose that on Saturdays (or any day, I do suppose), as an act of encouragement and solidarity to witches – and baby witches especially – who are feeling guilty for not being something that doesn’t fucking exist, we post #nofilterwitchcraft.

Take a picture of anything having to do with your witch-ness, that is not tailored for perfection, not carefully pruned, not super aesthetic, and throw it up on Witchblur or IG. It doesn’t have to be a working, per se. It can be anything, as long as it’s witch-related in some way.

Here’s mine.

This is my usual workspace, which is a tiny side table which usually shares space with my ugly speakers and in this case, also some random hair shit. Also in-frame is my extremely ugly early 2000′s fold-away caravan mattress (which I couldn’t be fucked to actually fold up today), and my cover-less duvet. In other words, I am more or less a mess.

Let’s see yours. Tag #nofilterwitchcraft and I’ll reblog if you want.

2

“Ugly or pretty, personal tastes determine the limits of the look. It’s a very thin line and it’s different for everyone. In the end, fashion is about catching people’s attention, whether it’s via extreme beauty of extreme ugliness. It’s up to us to decide if it works.”

I really don’t understand the outrage over Nike releasing a plus sized selection of workout clothing. Fat people wearing Nike isn’t effecting you. 

Some people do not understand this, but confidence really matters when you’re trying to work out and lose weight. A lot of plus-sized workout clothes, if you can even find them, are frumpy and ugly and extremely uncomfortable and most people don’t want to go for a run or to the gym looking like shit. It’s discouraging from the start if you can’t even find clothes that fit you, and if a popular fitness brand wants to remedy that, good for them. 

Yes, some people will be wearing nike as a fashion choice & have no intention of losing weight, but for those who fully intend to lose weight and want high-quality name-brand clothes to wear while doing it, Nike is giving them that option. 

Badass Wife

29. “How is my wife more badass than me?” x Bucky
Words: 504

Prompt Request List

For @vaultingphilosophy

Bucky was surrounded… and surprised. Surprised because he was never surrounded. It just didn’t happen. He was James Barnes. The former Winter Soldier. He doesn’t get surrounded. Steve was unconscious, leaning against the wall on which he had fallen. Tony was nowhere to be found. Everyone else was fighting in other parts of the base, which left Bucky on his own until Steve regained consciousness. Bucky made a personal vow to tease Steve to no end once they got out of this.

Taking stock of his position, Bucky counted twelve Hydra soldiers around him. He had no gun, not that he really needed one when it came right down to it. But he would have been glad for one right now. Steve’s shield was out of reach; there were no other discernable weapons lying around or even anything that could have been used as a weapon. This might be a problem. Bucky took his stance, ready to fight the twelve, protect his stupid unconscious friend, and get the hell out of there!

He didn’t count on all twelve attacking at once. Punch after punch he threw, they just kept coming. Even his metal arm was getting tired. In what would later be referred to as a stroke of extreme luck, two particularly ugly guys had managed to get a hold of Bucky’s arms, while other really big one punched him in the face and stomach over and over until suddenly he wasn’t. Bucky fell to his knees, darkness beginning to close in on him, as the men holding his arms also disappeared. Squinting against the buzz in his head, Bucky was able to make out a single figure fighting off the Hydra agents. It wasn’t Steve; he was still out like a baby at naptime.

Clothed in black, the amazing fighter took out all twelve Hydra agents in no time, throwing punches and kicks, wrapping legs around necks and bringing them all to their knees only to receive a kick to the skull. Bucky struggled to stand to his feet to help. He grabbed the wall next to Steve and used it as leverage to rise. When his head stopped spinning, he was able to focus on the scene in front of him. All twelve Hydra soldiers were in various positions of beat-down. Some leaned against a wall, others leaned against each other, some laid flat out on the ground. All unconscious. Bucky never once heard a gun during the whole event.

“Are you okay, babe?” a sweet voice asked, bringing Bucky’s eyes up to meet his savior.

How is my wife more badass than me?!” he asked incredulously.

Y/N laughed, “Just lucky, I guess! Pick up Steve and let’s get out of here.”

Bucky tossed Steve over his shoulder and they ran for the jet. He strapped Steve onto the stretcher and sat next to Sam while Y/N flew the jet back to the compound.

“She saved your ass again, didn’t she?” Sam asked Bucky with a mocking grin.

“Shut up.”

Does everyone know that @jamesandclairefraser got me a Friday badge for Emerald City Comic Con? She made sure I could go. That’s how she is. I met and talked to dozens of fans I had never met while standing in endless lines. I wasn’t able to really find people I intended to connect with but that’s ok. I got like 5 minutes to say hi to tumblr friends at the Sheraton Grill. And then I had to run to get photo ops. I got to meet and take pictures with Caitriona and Sam because Kim (flutist_kim on twitter) was so amazing to give me a VIP package. You know what? I get anon hate and I laugh at the troll ineptitude and publish it anyway and what do I get? I get hundreds of loving, supportive messages and heart connections and people sharing their stories and love. I get incessantly attacked in very public ways on twitter and ridiculous lies are made up about me and what do I get? I wonder if people believe all that about me when I haven’t ever done anything mean or hateful or harmful but I don’t have to because I get the support of my sweet, kind, caring Outlander friends who know I haven’t and who love love and instead of telling others to be kind, they ARE kind. Actions speak louder than words and the “shippers” speak very loudly with their actions. Shippers = Love There may be some extreme ugliness and wildly flying opinions on everything but the love and support drowns that out for sure! “Tell me what you pay attention to and I will tell you who you are.”

Originally posted by sam2119931

On Makeup

Okay, so. Basically I’m tired of hearing people say that makeup is a way to trick/deceive people or something that inherently denotes low self-esteem/love because you’re essentially making yourself look more acceptable in the eyes of society. I was considering this while I did my makeup today and I thought: why do I wear makeup? And the answer was simple: because I fucking like it. I’m not doing it to be more appealing to someone else, I’m not doing it because I don’t think I’m not beautiful without it. It’s very simple, it’s like painting your nails. Why do we do it? Do we do it to trick/deceive people? No. Unless you’re a complete idiot, you know that no one naturally has bright red nails and it’s obviously nail-polish. The same way no one goes around convinced that some people just have huge-ass winged black lines over their eyes. And do we do it because we think we’re ugly without it? No! It’s just something extra, an addition that we like, something to express ourselves. Just like a tattoo, do people get tattoos to look more beautiful/appealing/trick people? No! They do it to express themselves, it’s just a little something more that we want to have on our body. It’s the same thing with makeup, except it washes off and you can change it everyday according to how you’re feeling. And I think that beauty gurus really show this in the fact that they do show themselves without makeup to thousands/millions of people before every damn tutorial. Why would they, if makeup was a way to hide their true selves? On the contrary, I think makeup is a way to show yourself, to make yourself look how you want to and express your personality. I’m so sick and tired of hearing people bash other people for wearing makeup. At the end of the day, even if you don’t agree with me, is it hurting you? Fuck no. Then shut the hell up.

Sirius x Reader / Good friends Pt.2

Part.1 / PSA, I’m a bit all over the place and so I didn’t get this posted as soon as would have liked but I truly hope you enjoy whatever it’s turned out to be. Also there’s a bit of blood and unwanted kissing so be warned n stuff.


When Sirius awoke he was not at all where he remembered being last. Gone was the common room, the fireplace, all his books.

As he opened his eyes, he found a ceiling, white and illuminated by windows thrown open to let the summer breeze in. He looked about him.

A dresser, a door that lead to what appeared to be a bathroom and along the walls, framed photographs and posters.

He rolled off of the bed, kneeling on the floor in complete confusion. His friends, James and Lily on a park bench, all the boys at a diner, smiling and laughing over their burgers. There was his brother on his birthday and you and the girls at a lake.

And then he heard something from outside this curious bedroom. A kettle whistling and almost imperceptible footsteps, the crack of an egg and then singing. Soft, beautiful singing, a Muggle song, Elvis Presley, he thought. It was more familiar than perfect and it drew Sirius out of the room, compelling his whole body and tugging at his chest.

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Why preternatural abilities don’t produce results in a lab...

Ok. So I’m some sort of clairsentient/empathic thingie (I have yet to find a term that feels exact to me), and I was giving thought into why all tests on preternatural abilities like these have either an inconclusive or negative result.

Before we go any further, some info on where I’m coming from. I’m a practicing secular witch, but I spent the vast majority of my life as a hard-line atheist skeptic. I didn’t WANT to believe in this. There were two reasons for that.

One, I grew up with an extremely ugly incarnation of religion, and being young, I associated all unprovable beliefs with religion. In other words, I had a sort of “political” opposition to religion from a young age.

Two, I started exhibiting clairsentience/empathic abilities extremely young. And people got very angry at me. They felt violated by me, because I was a kid and I just tactlessly said whatever popped into my head. I felt shame for that and I had no one to guide me, and I spent the next 20 years of my life trying SO INCREDIBLY HARD to bury my abilities.

In short, my hard-line skepticism was half political, and half self-denial.

My firm embarkment on the path, after a decade of waffling, represents the moment I just couldn’t deal with the self-denial anymore, basically. I had to learn to control it, or it was going to control me. 20 years of denial didn’t make it go away.

HOWEVER.

I STILL BELIEVE that science must be empirical, repeatable, and as objective as realistically possible. If those criteria aren’t met, IT’S NOT SCIENCE.

You will never see me trying to twist quantum physics to suit my beliefs. You will never see me posting discredited studies to suit my beliefs.

My beliefs function on personal gnosis. That is good enough for me. I don’t need to twist science to justify myself. I have no problem admitting that it currently has no scientific backing.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist – clearly. It just means it has no scientific backing.

Ok. That out of the way, what you slogged through all that to get to: why preternatural abilities don’t show up on scientific tests.

I am going to start out by giving you physical evidence of a recent occasion this happened to me. And then we’re gonna talk about it. Timestamps included. We jumped to text because he was out of data, so we used text when he was at work.

The convo is with my partner, whom I call Wolf on here. Anon is someone he cares about. The blocked personal info is, well… personal. It’s stuff I knew about the situation surrounding Anon and some hard stuff going on in her life.

So let’s look at what happened here and deconstruct it a bit. I’ll tell you how I processed it in my head.

Completely out of nowhere, something in my head went, “Anon. Anon. ANON. ANON! ANON!! Bad stuff, bad stuff, bad stuff…”

This is weird for me. Anon and I actually don’t get on all that well. We don’t talk. I’m perfectly content to leave it that way. So I know nothing about her, other than really major stuff Wolf tells me if it affects his time. I don’t get the day-to-day about her at all.

You can see here my apologetic nature and me being all scared of him getting angry, learned from years of having people get mad at me for snooping around in their heads. But you can also see that I’m just spit-balling. I don’t really know what’s going on. I just know it’s something about Anon, and it’s bad. So I simply guessed it was something related to Anon’s mother, because I knew stuff had happened to her mother a while ago, so I thought maybe that had re-emerged.

The reality? She and Wolf had a disagreement that stressed Wolf out.

So why didn’t I get Wolf in my head? Why did I only get Anon?

Because Wolf is the one I’m tethered to. I care about him, which means my intuitive wiring is very connected to him, whereas it isn’t to Anon. Oddly enough, this can create a blind spot to the person I’m connected to. When they think “I”, I think “I” too. This has created some really horrible bouts of anxiety for me, where I think something that’s happening to someone else is happening to me. But in this case, I knew for certain it wasn’t related to me, because I don’t talk to Anon. So that just leaves Anon.

I’m getting the message from Wolf’s head, from his perspective. And he’s not thinking “I, Wolf, had a disagreement with Anon.” He’s thinking, “This stuff Anon did or said, feelings, feelings, feelings.” His thoughts are about her, not himself. And he’s also not thinking in linear sentences, because thoughts don’t work like that. He’s just generally thinking “Anon + bad feelings.” So Anon + bad feelings is all I got.

So.

How the fuck do you stick that in a lab?

Like, do you see how complicated this is?

In the minds of scientists, they see things like clairsentience as if it were sort of a card trick. And if I say “I can do this card trick,” I should be able to do it no matter what deck of cards you give me, or where I am when I do it. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t make any difference whether I’m doing the card trick out there, or in this lab, because the laws of physics never change. Right?

Except that’s not how it works.

This isn’t a card trick, and it’s not based on physics. It’s a complex interaction between my senses, my feelings, and the world around me, which results in me receiving muddled messages into my brain.

How much I care about the person has an impact. What mood I’m in has an impact. What else is going on around me has an impact.

Sometimes I’m more accurate than this. Sometimes I’m less. Sometimes I miss the message entirely. Sometimes it’s so intense that it causes physical pain. Sometimes I get it for strangers. Sometimes I don’t. Depends what it is, how protected I am, on and on and on.

And then on top of that, you add in that the thing I’m reading isn’t even a good way of communicating. It’s thoughts tumbling through someone’s head, in flashes of color and single words or phrases. I don’t get nice pretty sentences typed out with good grammar. I get popped in the head by a bunch of rushing nonsense that I have to try to make sense of.

If you stick me alone in a room and say “Tell me what shapes this stranger in some other room is looking at,” who I have no connection to, who is sending me a message that isn’t important and they don’t even care about, and asking me to do something I CAN’T DO (i.e. see messy random thoughts as pretty, perfectly rendered pictures) of course I’m not going to do well. I mean, unless you think I am psychically aware of EVERYTHING that ever happens to EVERYONE on the entire planet, why the hell would you expect me to?

I don’t watch 60fps movies in my head of whatever that guy over there is thinking. Thoughts don’t work like that – either his or mine. I get a bunch of a random stuff in random order from people I’m invested in, or when my nervous system is triggered.

I mean, do you think in perfect video and poetic sentences? I don’t. It’s just a bunch of messy bullshit. The only difference between my head and yours, is that some of the thoughts in my head don’t belong to me, and are therefore a bit harder to understand. But it’s the same messy bullshit everyone else has.

Trying to stick clairsentience in a lab is like trying to stick “friendship” in a lab. How do you even do that?

It’s not a card trick. It’s a description of a concept, composed of complex interactions.

I would love to find some kind of way to scientifically test this. But as someone who experiences this phenomenon, it’s obvious to me why the method we currently use doesn’t render results.

It’s because they’re thinking of preternatural abilities as if they were simple card tricks. In reality, like all senses, they’re highly complex.