i might have a new spirit animal

Can we be a little less aggressive towards baby witches? (Or witches who just don’t know?)

Yes, I know there are many posts like this already but…it needs to be said. Not everyone has the luxury of what most of us know. If a new witchling makes a mistake, like calling their familiar their ‘spirit animal’, while having no ties in with Native American culture, or blood, don’t be so harsh on them. They might just not know. When I was a very new witch, I made this mistake and had tons of messages about it, although most of them were calm, which is what needs to happen more often. We still live in a time where witchcraft is taught to be feared,ignored, or both. So many people can’t get the right information or find any. 

Now, some people might not agree with me on this part (say anything rude and you’re automatically blocked. I already had to deal with some dicks today and I’m not in the mood lol.) But people literally do not know what a g*psy is. Hell, it took me a while to find out myself. But many people still see the word as a European lady, with a purple silky scarf wrapped around their head while reading a crystal ball. That’s what most people are “taught”. So, they don’t know that it’s actually a slang word. 

But what I’m trying to get at is, everyone makes mistakes. Some people make bigger mistakes then others, it’s a fact of life. But instead of being so angry towards people who don’t know, don’t yell at them or insult them.  That will just hurt everyone, and might make them shy away from witchcraft. Instead, expressing your opinion, or facts, in a calm way is the way to go. Just today someone gave me their opinion is a nice, relaxed way and it was wonderful. That was literally the first time someone has EVER been kind of our differing opinions on Tumblr, and I’ve been on here for about two years. But insulting them and being rude won’t get you anywhere.  

Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Ball of Fur.

This is a phanfic based on a prompt I got sent here: (I have never written anything like this before so this is new haaaaa)

Title: Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Ball of Fur

Genre: Fluffy AU/Domestic

Description: Dan Howell has a special ability in which when feeling anxious/scared he can morph into his spirit animal…which just happens to be a cat. Cue him feeling terrified during a thunderstorm and Phil making him feel better. This is pure fluffy goodness with an AU twist!

Word Count: 1691

P.S. If you haven’t ever watched the Big Bang Theory, the ending might confuse you. 

Keep reading

Judgment - Part 3/3 (Cullen/Lavellan NSFW)

(WARNING: Mature content in this chapter!)





Once, on a hunt in the wilderness, my prey was stolen from me by a creature I’d only heard of in our Keeper’s tales - a Red Lion. They mostly lived higher up in the mountains and tended to avoid encounters with people. These animals were solitary hunters - fierce and independent. No one in our Clan had ever seen one. I was the first, and that day, I was sure that I was going to die.

I remember being frozen in fear as I watched it pounce on the doe I’d been stalking and break its neck with a single snap of its massive jaws, I remember being unable to move even after it spotted me, and I remember the moment in which our eyes met for the first time. I imagined how easily it could break me with its large paws - imagined how easily it could snap my neck if it willed it. I knew I should run, but I couldn’t leave. I didn’t want to. In the end, it wasn’t fear that kept me from escaping.

It was fascination.

Here was a true hunter - a true predator and master of the forest.

Its eyes hypnotized me, as did its movements. The hunger in those eyes felt familiar somehow; a hunger for life drove it, much like it did all of nature. I watched its muscles move, stretch, and contract beneath sleek and striped crimson fur as it approached me. Graceful, silent, and deadly. I didn’t dare move. As it circled me, I wondered if it wanted to devour me, and for some reason that notion didn’t frighten me as much I would have thought it would. I found myself wondering what it might be like to become a part of this magnificent beast. Would it carry my spirit to new hunting grounds? Would I be able to experience the thrill of its power and its strength? Would my spirit wander the forests in its body, leaping over rocks and trees as it hunted? Envisioning this, I closed my eyes and waited, convinced that the animal wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.

Yet, death did not come for me that day. After circling me a few times, the lion lost interest. I wasn’t a threat, and that seemed to satisfy him. The lion picked up the doe and disappeared into the trees, almost like it had never been. I always wondered if I would see him again, if another pair of eyes would ever draw me in like those of that rare animal.

And they have.

Right now, I stare into another pair of amber orbs full of hunger – not for sustenance or life this time, but for me.

I’m not afraid. Although my Commander has shown me yet another side to him I’ve never seen, I don’t resist. Instead, I find myself wishing to be devoured once more, to be a part of him. His incredible golden eyes are windows into a storm - a lust and hunger that I fear won’t be quenched in a single encounter. He considers me for a time, his gaze reminding me so much of that day in the forest. When a corner of his lips turns up in a mischievous smirk, I feel my legs go numb.

I suddenly can’t look him in the eyes anymore. Ridiculous, really. This isn’t my first time being with a man. I don’t consider myself a shy and blushing virgin, but right now, I feel like one. When he moves towards me, I move back. My breath slows and stoppers in my throat. His presence is suddenly everywhere, the fur mantle on his shoulders making him look even larger. I almost expect him to stop and hesitate, to wonder why I’m moving away. But, he doesn’t. Those would be the actions of a shy Cullen, and the man before me has already shed that mask. I’ve given my consent, and the chase has begun. Those hypnotic eyes look me up and down, leaving a trail of fiery sensation in their wake. He’s already undressing me with his mind, imagining how it will feel to touch me, and wondering what my voice will sound like when I surrender to him.

“Cullen,” I whisper, floundering for something to say to cover my sudden embarrassment. I look at his armor, then his chest, then the drapes around the bed – anywhere just to avoid his face. “Maybe I should…we should…um…” He still doesn’t stop moving forward, and I suddenly feel very much like that doe in the wilds. What’s wrong with me? Why am I so intimidated all of a sudden? I wanted this, didn’t I? My eyes fall to his hands, then glide up to the neckline of his armor, then settle on his lips.

“Your armor…maybe you should take it off…” I scoot back on the bed until there’s nowhere else to go.

“Hush,” he commands when my back presses against the headboard of the bed. The order comes out as a low purr, that single word washing over me and making my heart race. His gloved hand reaches for me, and I gasp when his thumb brushes over my cheek, slides down my neck, and ghosts against my collarbone. He traces its line then delves lower. I feel as though I’ve drunk a glass of rich wine. Heat pools in my abdomen; my head spins.

His fingers reach for the ties of my chemise. With aching slowness, he tugs on the string and peels one side of the thin covering away from my skin. The cool air from the open window caresses my breast first, but Cullen’s gaze follows soon after. I expect him to touch me, anticipating it so much that my nipples harden and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. I imagine how the leather of his glove with feel against me. Will it be soft or rough? Will it feel good or will I want him to take it off so I can feel the warmth of his hand?

A few moments pass, but he doesn't touch me.

He simply stares. Much like that lion in the wilds. Like he wants to consume me. I’ve never seen anyone look at me this way, and it makes my mouth go dry. When I can’t stand the wait anymore, I finally call his name.

“Hm?” The corner of his lips tilts up even farther, making the scar there dip and curl. I feel an insane urge to lick it. He’s teasing me, I realize, thrilling at the thought. Leaning forward, he breathes a question against my ear: “What is it, Inquisitor?” I bite my lip when he reaches over with his left hand and tugs down the other side of my chemise, leaving me bare from the waist up. I look down, watching as my chest rises and falls at an increasing rate.

“You’re breathless,” he whispers. “Why is that?”

“It’s, oh…” I begin to explain, but my words disappear into another gasp when he moves and his robes brush against my nipples. Their rough texture seems to grind against my sensitive flesh, and I barely manage to suppress a wanton moan.

“You’re trembling, Inquisitor,” he chuckles. Creators. I’ve never heard him laugh like this – soft and low, a sound that vibrates in my chest. “What’s come over you?” I struggle to answer, swallowing past a lump in my throat.

“You,” I murmur. “You’ve come over me.”

“No,” he denies in a lustful whisper. “Not yet.” He suddenly moves away, and it’s as though the sun has set and left me barren and cold. I shiver in his absence, tempted to pull him back. His deft fingers untie the other strings holding my flimsy garment together. In seconds, it falls away, leaving me completely exposed. In a flash of shyness, I try to wrap my arms around my body. He doesn’t stop me.

“You shouldn’t hide,” he says. “You’re beautiful.” I reward his flattery with a blush that even I don’t anticipate. Sliding closer to me, he bends forward until his silken lips press against the swell of my breast. He starts slow, first teasing me with butterfly kisses then finally relenting and cupping both mounds with his hands. Those magical hands – big, warm, and kneading. Flicking with a thumb then pinching just to the point where I can’t help but whimper. I arch into him, unable to stifle a ragged moan when his tongue darts out to lave against a hardened nipple. I feel it all the way in my core – an explosion of something that’s both painful and wonderful.

“Cullen,” I rasp, my hands flying forward and tangling in his hair.

“Do you like that?” he asks. His husky voice rumbles against my breast, making my heart skitter and quake. I want to answer, but before I can, my thoughts splinter, shattering into a thousand different fragments of euphoria as he draws the hypersensitive bud into his mouth and begins to suckle. When his teeth graze against me, I move my hands away from his hair and dig them into the fur of his mantle, afraid that I’ll hurt him. He shifts against me until I can feel his hand slipping down my leg. Wonderful, sweet, and tantalizing pain is building at the apex of my thighs. I need him to touch me there, and I try to convey my desire by moving my hips against his palm. To my chagrin, he moves his hand away. I fumble for his arm, grabbing a ridge of one of his bracers and forcing his hand back where I want it. He chuckles at my obvious frustration.

“What is it, Inquisitor?” he asks, pressing a kiss against my navel. “Do you want me to touch you here?” The villain. As if he doesn’t know.

“Please?” I shudder, desperate and ashamed to find myself begging. With a grin, he pulls me against him so that I’m lying flat on the mattress. Leaning on his elbow over me, he touches his forehead to mine, and our eyes meet once more. He traps me there, imprisons me with his heat and his presence. I can feel his arousal pressing against my hip. When I apply some pressure there with a wandering palm, he groans and closes his eyes, instinctively thrusting against my hand.

“Part your thighs for me,” he orders against my lips, his voice a little hoarse. A few fevered kisses later, I eagerly obey. My heart pounds chaotically within my chest, so loud that I wonder if he can hear it. At first, I think he’s going to tease me again, but it seems that he’s reaching his limit just as I am. He tugs off his glove, then gently rakes the tips of his fingers down my abdomen.

“Please,” I say again, growing more and more impatient. I’m so needy and aroused that I don’t even feel shame at lying here before him, open and exposed – vulnerable to his overpowering stare. His fingers move down, lower and lower, until his thumb finally presses against – yes! Creators above have mercy…The pressure is perfect. He moves his fingers, and whatever he’s doing feels incredible. My head falls back and I rush to cover my mouth to avoid letting out a loud and very unladylike wail of bliss.

“Don’t,” he demands gruffly, nipping at my neck. “I want to hear your cries of pleasure.” I shake my head, unwilling to let go of this last bit of dignity in front of him.

“Shall I stop, then?” His fingers still in their ministrations, and I practically snarl at him.

“No,” I answer too quickly. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Then don’t hold back,” he purrs. He presses against me with a thumb while one finger slips lower, probing gently at first then slipping inside me – filling me, stretching me, driving me mad. “Let me hear you scream for me.” Another finger slips in to join the first. In and out – slick and hard, curling and twisting, a delicious and wicked rhythm that’s only made more perfect by the motions of his thumb. I break. I fall apart. I do as he commands me to; I moan and I whine; I rake my nails down his arms. Perhaps I even scream as he desires, begging and pleading for more.

“My name,” he demands.

“Cullen,” I cry out obediently, terrified that he’ll stop.

“So wet…Maker…” he groans. He’s losing control, too, I realize just as my climax hurtles me over the edge. But it’s not over. My hunger for him is far from sated, and even the stars that explode in my vision don’t stop me from pulling him against me for a long, deep, and dirty kiss. He bites gently at my lower lip while my tongue seeks his out. All the while, his fingers work in and out of me, building me up into another frenzy of need and lust.

“I want you,” I tell him in a shuddering voice. “I want you so much.” Though he’s removed one of his gloves, he has yet to take off the rest of his armor. Imaging how much time that would take frustrates me, and I’m too far gone to care if he’s dressed or not when he takes me. I grab his belt and tug on the buckle. He understands my urgency. While I unclasp his sash, he manages to free his erection from his pants. Just the sight of it makes me lick my lips. There’s something thrilling about this – me lying here naked while he’s still in full armor. It feels dirty and somehow forbidden, and I love it.

I want to say something else, but he silences me by grabbing my hips and urging me to flip over. I can sense that he’s past talking now as he maneuvers me into a position that both shames and thrills me. I’m on all fours in front of him, and as he nudges my legs apart with his knee, I bite my lip to keep from mewling in excitement. I hear the slide of armor and the rasp of leather a split second before I gasp as his breastplate presses into my back. It’s cold – a shock against my sweat-covered skin. Then all thoughts of discomfort disappear when I feel him slide his shaft against me. He feels like molten steel wrapped in velvet. My mind goes blank. I wiggle my hips, urging him to enter me – to take me, to possess me.

The first thrust is somewhat painful. He’s so much bigger than I expected. As he drives into me to the hilt, I give a little yell and fall forward onto my elbows. The sensation is indescribable. He’s filling me to bursting. It’s almost too intense; almost too much to bear. But, still, I want more. He stops and leans over me, his big body shuddering and trembling.

“Are you alright?” he asks quickly. “Does it hurt? Maker, you’re so tight…” The gentle Cullen is back. All hints of teasing and commanding are gone from his voice, replaced by true concern. He scatters kisses between my shoulders, running his hand through my hair and calling my name. After a few moments, my body relaxes, easing around him and accommodating his size. “Perhaps we shouldn't…”

“Don’t stop,” I beg him. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he protests.

“You won’t,” I give my assurance. He moves again, and this time there is no pain – only a building pressure and a growing bundle of sensation deep in my womb. I encourage him, both with my voice and with my body, until a slow and careful rhythm turns into wave after wave of ecstasy. Only when he’s certain that I’m truly alright does he lose himself with me. His voice echoes in my ear as he murmurs my name, his heavy breaths and grunts of pleasure exciting me even further. To think that I can make a man like this feel this way is an aphrodisiac more potent than any herb or tonic. When his hands clamp around my hips to keep me still, my fingers dig into the sheets. With every snap of his hips, I’m hurled farther and farther towards my climax.

“Harder,” I growl, gritting my teeth. He obliges, but not before pushing on my back and pressing me into the bed. The new angle is incredible and allows me to catch a glimpse of his face. His cheeks are flushed, his lips parted, and his eyes ablaze. He reaches his peak just moments before I do. Warmth floods me a split second before he bends down and nearly collapses on top of me. Even in this state, though, he’s careful not to hurt me, putting all of his weight on one arm to keep his weight off of my body.

I lose track of time. I forget where I am – forget everything that has been troubling me. The nightmares, the regrets, the heavy decisions. Everything melts away as though swept aside by a merciful hand. We lie still, a panting and quivering mess of limbs, leather, metal, and fur. Only after we’ve regained our senses do we look at each other again. Words don’t come, though. There aren’t any words that I can use to describe how much this moment means to me. I have no idea what to say at a time like this, and it would seem that he doesn’t either. So, he just smiles. When another breeze from the open window makes me shiver, he slides away from me. There’s a bit of shyness to his actions when he tucks himself back into his leggings, and I can’t help but feel a rush of tenderness for him.

“Are you cold?” he asks me. “Perhaps I should summon someone to, um, draw a bath.” He pulls his glove back on and rubs the back of his neck. With painful reluctance, I push myself up into a sitting position and don the wrinkled mess that’s my chemise. He steps to the window and pulls it shut. Seeing him standing here in my quarters makes me think of things I shouldn’t. Like how I wish he would always be here with me; how I wish I could sleep with him beside me. Flights of fancy. Certainly nothing that I should mention to him. He looks like he’s brooding over something, and I imagine that the topic lies somewhere within the spectrum of our relationship.

“Won’t the servants gossip if they see the Commander ordering a bath for the Inquisitor?” I ask in jest, hoping that a little teasing would lighten the burden of my thoughts.

“Rina is…discreet,” he says. “Dorian made certain to find someone who could keep quiet about such things.” He turns back to me, and I realize that he didn’t catch on to my tone. His answer is so serious that I frown.

“Does our relationship burden you?” The question spills from my lips before I can stop it.

“No, that’s not…Why would you think that?” I motion for him to come closer.

“Would you be angry if I said that I didn’t care what anyone thought of us?” When he sees that I’m craning my neck to look up at him, he kneels beside the bed. I take one of his hands between mine and guide it to my face, nuzzling into his palm.

“No,” he replies. “I’m alright with that. If you are.” His answer isn’t what I expect, and I feel lucky enough to try and push things a little farther. There’s a topic I want to broach, but I haven’t the slightest clue how to go about doing it.

“Cullen,” I say at length. “May I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he smiles. My heart does a little flip in my chest.

What does this mean for us? – I yearn to know. What did this change between us? My mouth opens and I take several breaths to voice my concerns, but nothing comes out. I feel as though I’ve been Silenced. After several failed attempts, I look down and bite my lip, wondering if I shouldn’t leave this topic well enough alone. We’ve never spoken of the future. In our situation, doing so might be folly.

“I love you,” he says. The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. When I look at him again, I know my eyes are wide and my face bears an expression of surprise.

“What?” I whisper, convinced that I’d misheard him.

“I love you,” he says again, his voice stronger this time. His hand slides around to cup the back of my head; his fingers thread into my hair. “I know we had an unspoken agreement to…” he falters momentarily, but plows on, “…to keep things casual between us. I know that this is far from the right time to be saying such things. But, I can’t keep silent any more. I love you, and I don’t want to live another second without you beside me.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes, I do.” Something wet and warm drips down my cheek, and with more than a little shock and embarrassment, I realize that it’s a tear.

“I…” Creators. Was he saying what I thought he was? Did this mean it was alright to let go of the restraint on my emotions? Did this mean it was alright to think of a future? Together? With him? I slip off the edge of the mattress and throw my arms around him. He returns my embrace with just as much fervor. “I love you, too. I have for a long time now. But, Cullen…”

We could die tomorrow…my heart laments.I want to say as much, but he shakes his head and presses a finger to my lips.

I won’t allow it…his heart whispers back to mine.

anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips for connecting with animal spirits? I recently bought some coyote bones which turned out to have the spirit hanging around them. He's a sweetheart and communicated that he plans on staying, but he's also a little shy and quiet. I've been communicating mainly with a pendulum, but since I've never worked with an animal spirit before I'm a little lost on how to get closer to him. He's not yet ready to give me a nickname or visit in a dream but told me he plans on both.

Sounds like you’ve got a great start!

I generally read the question “How do I connect/bond with an animal spirit?” as “How do I make friends with an animal spirit?” And in my experience, the process winds up being this little mixture of making friends with an animal and making friends with a human.

Spend time with them. Let them know you want them to be a part of your life. If you go out hiking or just on a stroll, ask if they want to come along–and if they say “yes”, bring a bone with you. If you’re sitting at home on your computer, ask if they’d like to sit with you, and if they do, reach over and give them a touch every so often. (I’ll frequently be browsing tumblr with a deer skull or a pelt on the bed beside me.) Like, if you want to get all fancy and formal and ritualistic, you can, but my experience is that A) animal spirits tend to get impatient with ritual stuff, and B) casual hangouts are just great ways to bond with them. One time, I sat on the bed with my coyote pelt while we listened to the new Fall Out Boy album and I worked on a present for him, and it was probably one of the greatest spirit-experiences I’d had in a long time.

With newer or less-bonded spirits, I’ll ask before I do anything, but I have a kind of “understanding” of those who I’ve bonded closest to. So while I might ask one of my coyote tails “Would you like to be worn while I go out shopping today?” and wait for a response, I’ll frequently just grab my coyote pelt, Emon, off the wall without a word and just plop him on the bed next to me. “C’mon, dog, time to snuggle.” “Aww ye.”

But that’s also a matter of knowing the individual spirit. Like, Emon wouldn’t turn down a cuddle if his life depended on it, but my black bear Daru, while he enjoys snuggling very much, prefers to do it on his terms–meaning that if I try to grab him for lovins when he’s not interested, he’ll just be grumpy the whole time. 

Much like you wouldn’t constantly drag your human friends everywhere or be hanging off of them all the time, you do want to give your animal spirit friends some space and time for themselves. Even though Emon is pretty much always 100% down to cuddle, he does spend a fair amount of time hanging on his hook on the wall. It takes a lot, but I have seen him get overstimulated by touch and want nothing to do with cuddles (mostly when I’ve worn him to festivals or other events and everyone wanted to pet him), so I try to ensure he gets enough time to himself, both after big events and in general. When he’s hungry for a cuddle, he knows how to get my attention and ask for it.

So I’d say to just try to cultivate a friendship with this coyote spirit! Give him all the respect and attention you’d give a living, human friend. Coyotes are great friends–definitely one of my favorite animal spirits to work with–and I wish you the best with yours. <3


Dream Photo Tour: Teralily

URL: http://teralilycrossing.tumblr.com

Dream Address: 6900-5590-0806


  • Alyssa
  • Sayuri
  • Hanna
  • Sunny


  • Carmen
  • Limberg
  • Cookie
  • Deena
  • Boone
  • Cherry
  • Amelia
  • Marshal
  • Puck
  • Chadder

Okay, there are not words to describe how great this place is. I don’t want to spoil anything, but I *will* say that it’s woodsy, beautiful, and constantly surprising; there are things in this town that I haven’t seen anywhere else. In a way, Teralily reads as a sort of homage to Animal Crossing: Wild World, and if you’ve missed the rough and tumble aesthetic of that generation, you have GOT to go check Teralily out.

11/10 Would Stand on Their Home Again