butch womanhood is a very real existence and potential reality for any lesbian: trans, cis, or nb. you are not lesser for being butch. you have a rich, wonderful history at your disposal. butch lesbians have always existed and have so often been the very backbone of many communities–especially butches of color. so, please, know that you are valued. your butchness is treasured. your struggles deserve to be heard. you are such a loved and crucial part of the lesbian community, and your butchness is beautiful.
We’ve all had a crush on someone we shouldn’t, or maybe a crush we’ve wanted to get over quickly.
Here’s a little easy spell to help.
- Water. (Moon or Sun Water is preferable but any kind will do.)
- That’s it. I said it was easy.
1. Fill a glass with the water of choice and take it and go and sit quietly.
2. Put the pointer finger of your preferred hand in the water, while holding the glass with that hand.
“ End this flame, end this plight, make my heart be not alight.”
4. Imagine the water flowing up through your finger and washing through you, extinguishing the flame you had for your crush.
5. Dispose of the water outside.
There! I hope it helps you get over any stubborn crushes
Hey there witchy community I think it’s time we had a heart to heart. I’ve been seeing a lot of disgusting behavior this past week or so and I think it’s time we all have a little refresher on how to be decent people.
If you are asking someone a question, or for help or for resources or for suggestions keep in mind you’re asking a favor.
Favors are not something you get to demand and expect out of thin air. Favors are requests. As in, you are requesting aid. This does not ensure you will receive it and nor should you expect to.
A favor is an act of kindness.
It is not a requirement.
If someone is offering help or aid as a general statement on their blog it does not mean you are entitled to that help or aid.
1. Taboo Topics
You may ask a question about a topic the blogger doesn’t want to answer. They aren’t obligated to answer you. Say you ask about animal sacrifice or cultural appropriation or sex magic. They don’t have to answer you. They don’t even have to reply to you. They don’t have to do ANYTHING they don’t want to do.
Instead phrase your question so you ask permission first. “Is it alright to ask you about sex magic on this blog?” And then WAIT FOR A REPLY before asking. Yeah, it takes a little longer but if you’re asking another person to invest their time why can’t you invest your own?
Even this question doesn’t have to be answered. They are allowed to ignore you. It is THEIR blog.
2. You Do NOT Get to Dictate Tone
Get an answer you don’t like? Tough.
If you don’t like the answer ask someone else or research on your own. If someone answers in a way you perceive to be negative or hostile either unfollow, block, or ignore it. You don’t get to tell someone how they are supposed to reply to you after you ASK THEN A FAVOR.
3. People Have Lives
Unless a blog has mods they are usually run by a single person. Usually that person has a job, is in school or both. They run their blog and help out because they want to. Their schedules and their lives exist outside this website. If an answer isn’t given as promptly as you like tough shit. Get over yourself. Ask someone else or look it up yourself.
4. Check FAQs, Abouts, Directories & Links
If you ask a question that has already been answered you’ll likely get a link to the places you should have already checked. If you’re asking someone else for their own time INVEST YOURS. CTRL+F and a 10 minute glance over is not a big deal. Do it.
5. We are Not a Search Engine
If you want to know spell compenents for “honey” use Google, use Bing use Tumblr tags… If you want a personal answer phrase the question that way.
“Have you used honey in your witchcraft before? If so what sort of spells did you use it for? Did it work out?”
Have a conversation instead of demanding a reply. If it is interesting we are more likely to enjoy answering it.
6. Ask Appropriate Questions
If someone isn’t Wiccan asking them questions about Wicca doesn’t make sense.
There is an entire tag for Wicca that you have at your disposal. If you want a person’s specific perspective on a topic ask THAT question. “How do you feel about Wicca and do you incorporate any aspects of it in your own craft?”
7. Time Sensitive is Not Absolute
Even if you have an ask that is an “emergency” or time sensitive doesn’t mean it gets priority or that it will be answered within the window. Some people compose long answers to posts and research and add sources. Some people have huge backlogs of asks. Some people only answer asks on certain days. Just because you have time restraints doesn’t mean others have them as well.
Remember that you are asking someone to help you and that they aren’t obligated to.
If you really want help being polite and kind is a lot more likely to yield results than to demand and expect.
The moment of realisation when you know a spell has worked
You cast the spell. The candles are burned, the sigils are drawn, the jar is filled. You put all your energy and power into it, and the fierceness of your desire.
A day goes past, then two. Perhaps days turn into weeks; perhaps weeks into months.
You may forget entirely that you ever cast the spell.
Then one day, when your situation has changed, when your goals are attained, when you have what you desire, the epiphany hits you: this is what you worked for.
You worked for it physically, applying all the mundane methods at your disposal. But, you realise, your magical working played an integral role as well, even if not in the way you had originally intended or foreseen.
It is a feeling of wonder that makes you smile to yourself, a smile of knowing. It is a feeling of that last puzzle piece fitting into place, a piece you were not even aware you were missing.
You know, in your heart of hearts, that your magic worked.
A/N: This is a rewrite of one of my SPN fics called ‘Purr’. I haven’t had much of a mojo to write anything new, but I wanted to put some kind of content out for you guys. Also, you’ll be happy to know it’s mechanic!Bucky. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think ♥
Word Count: 1,629
Warnings: - SMUT. - 18 or over please. - if i see any blog under 18 like this or reblog it, I will have to block you. - please, always wear a condom.
Tags: (no tags this time besides my peeps, please see the bottom of this fic if you would like to be tagged in future fics)
*gif is not mine.
Bucky had been gawking at you all day like a lovesick teenager. When your eyes would meet his sapphire blues, he’d quickly look away, as if he didn’t want you to notice his wandering eyes. You saw him though, saw his shimmering orbs scan over every inch of your body, stopping at your breasts and lingering there. Sometimes his mouth would hang open just an inch as he stared and you were surprised he never drooled, those perfect pouty lips making you want to attack his mouth in broad daylight.
You’d be lying if you said you were the innocent one, the urge to fuck his brains out growing with each moment you spent with him. When he was practicing his combat skills at Stark Tower, or tuning up Steve’s bike in the garage, you’d watch the muscles work underneath his skin with each movement, longing to run your fingers over each vein.
You’d brought him a bottle of water and watched drops of sweat run down his forehead, across his cheek, and disappear into his shirt. You’d balled your hands into fists at your sides, the urge to taste the salty liquid from his skin overwhelming you. So many times you had thought about what it would be like to feel his huge, strong hands working you over like he did baby’s engine.
“Y/N?” Bucky said sharply, snapping you out of your dirty thoughts. You clenched your thighs together and could already feel the wetness pooling in your panties. “Can you pass me that wrench from the toolbox?” You got up on shaky legs and grabbed the wrench you thought he needed from the rusted, red toolbox on the backseat.
“Thank you,” he started, taking it from your hands. “But that’s not the one. Let me show you.” His hand found the small of your back, leading you to the toolbox. He pulled out the correct wrench and presented it to you. His hand was on your back again, guiding you back to Steve’s bike. “See, this one fits because of the way this bolt goes.” You watched him bend over, admiring the grease that was speckled up and down his forearms and biceps. You were suddenly uncomfortable, your thoughts turning to pure filth as you imagined him smearing that grease all over your naked skin.
“I- I’m gonna go inside,” you stammered, fidgeting with your hands. “It’s too hot out here.”
You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you walked to the door of your motel room, your heart beating loudly in your chest. You closed the door behind you and pressed your back to it, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Suddenly exhausted, you flopped down on your stomach onto the bed closest to the door, and fell asleep almost instantly.
You had no idea how much time had passed, but sunlight was still shining through the curtains as you fluttered your eyelids open. After your brain peeked through your sleep induced fog, your senses realized what had awoken you. Calloused fingertips ran down your bare thighs from behind you, followed by full hands rubbing your tired muscles. You closed your eyes again and took moment to catch your breath, knowing it was Bucky.
“Is this okay?” You heard him whisper, the smell of oil and leather invading your senses. Suddenly, his hands were right below your ass, cupping the soft flesh there.
“Are you joking?” you asked without thinking, feeling goosebumps rise along your skin at his touch. This is what you’d been dreaming about for weeks. “Please don’t stop.”
As if a switch had been flipped in him, Bucky suddenly had his hands around your waist, flipping you over onto your back. He was still covered in grease, even more so now from working on the bike. His hands moved hungrily underneath your shirt, smearing the black substance along your heated skin. You felt like you were on fire, about to combust, when his lips suddenly crashed into yours. A moan escaped your lips and got lost in his mouth, as he brought your bottom lip between his teeth.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this? To touch you like this?” He growled into your neck, as he peppered it with quick and lustful kisses. “Too fucking long.”
“I- I saw the way you looked at me,” you managed to say, Bucky’s lips moving down to your collarbone and suckling there. “Like you were undressing me with your eyes.”
Bucky brought his eyes up to meet yours; those beautiful, swirling pools of blue. You felt your breath hitch at the sudden eye contact, your teeth biting on your bottom lip. You swore his face was made of marble, the beautiful creases by his eyes and even the tiny scar on his cheek so beautiful. You brought your hand up to trace the lines on his cheeks, and his eyes instinctively closed at your soft touch.
“You caught me,” he answered with a sly smile, his tongue snaking out to swipe over his plush bottom lip. “Now I want to undress you for real. Do you mind?”
His eyes were glinting with mischief and lust. How could you say no to someone so attractive? You shook your head no, unable to form words. Bucky quickly disposed of your grease covered t-shirt and bra, following with your cotton shorts. You suddenly remembered that you had failed to put on any panties today, suddenly self-consciously naked under his intimidating gaze. Bucky whistled, the sound echoing off the motel room walls.
“Would you look at that pretty pussy?” he groaned out, brushing his thumb softly across your already swollen clit. “Just as I imagined it would be.”
He got down on his knees at the end of the bed and put his palms underneath your ass to pull you closer to him. Your nipples were so sensitive and hard already, you couldn’t help but roll them between your fingers as you watched Bucky’s mouth come closer and closer to your dripping sex. “What do you say I make you purr like Steve’s bike outside, hmm?”
Before you could even answer, his soft lips were wrapped around your clit. At first, his tongue moved in torturous circles around your bundle of nerves, before sucking it into his mouth and making your toes curl. Every few seconds he’d stop, allowing you to catch your breath and swiping his tongue inside you to taste your juices, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and again. You were so close to cumming already and he could tell, your entire body trembling, your legs instinctively trying to close around his head. Bucky inserted one of his thick fingers inside you, growling at your walls pulsing around it.
“Fuck,” he growled, curling up his finger to brush perfectly against your g-spot. “Let me feel you cum, Y/N.”
That’s all it took for your orgasm to crash through you in a violent wave, your entire body jerking on the bed, your moans reaching the ceiling.
“You’re so sweet and you taste even sweeter,” Bucky said, sucking your juices off his finger. Your entire chest and face was flushed scarlet from your orgasm, your pussy aching for Bucky to fill you up.
“Please, Bucky,” you begged, tugging at his belt and pulling him closer.
“Tell me,” he commanded, brushing his thumb along your cheek.
“I need to feel you fill me,” you whispered, and his eyes lit up even more. His pants and boxers were pooled around his feet quicker than you could blink. You gasped at the sight of his hard, thick cock pointed right in your direction. You couldn’t help but reach your hand out to grab it, to feel the ridges and veins glide in your palm as you stroked him up and down. You licked the bead of precum off the tip of his cock, ensuring you made eye contact with him the entire time.
“Lay back,” he said, taking his cock into his own hand and lazily stroking it. He spread your legs apart with his free hand and ran the head along your slick folds, brushing it against your clit with each turn. He eased himself in slow, allowing your tight walls to accommodate his size. Bucky hissed between his teeth as he sunk himself deep inside you, feeling your sweetest spot against his sensitive tip. He pumped his hips into you at a slow pace at first, but you were already desperate for more friction, desperate for him to fuck the ever loving shit out of you.
“Faster,” you breathed out, the desperation in your voice thick and needy. “Harder. Fuck me.”
Bucky pumped into you faster and faster, the redness creeping up his chest as he fucked you deeper and deeper. His fingers dug into your ankles so deeply, he left marks. The sweat from his brow was dripping onto your stomach now,
“I’m going to fucking cum so deep inside you,” he grunted out between thrusts, the feeling of his hard cock pulling at your walls making you want to cum again. “I can’t hold it anymore.” You watched as Bucky’s face contorted and you felt his cock twitch inside you as he came, sending you over the brink yourself. You both moaned each other's’ names as you released, tingles pricking at your skin. He collapsed on top of you, the grease from his arms now rubbing all over you once more. Once you were both able to catch your breath, Bucky propped himself up on his elbow to look at you.
“You’re all dirty,” he said, a sly smirk on his face. “What do you say I go clean you up?”
Please visit this link to add yourself to my tag list by category. For now it’s all Bucky, and I’ve included ‘all fics’ and ‘no smut’. Thanks for your continued support guys. Let me know if this link doesn’t work. I love you all ♥
take the time now and become so fucking good. practice; constantly, everything. learn everything you can. get upperclassmen, staff, anyone you can, to teach you. learn from your own mistakes, learn from the mistakes of people around you. learn from every source you have at your disposal. get creative. play easy songs you enjoy, because they will motivate you to practice. practice hard exercises that make you want to give up, because they will make you better. take the years you have now and become the best you can be, because regardless of what situation high school lands you in, you will be so good your chances at become better will soar. your peers will look up to you, because you have so much to teach and share. your superiors and staff will look up to you, because you have developed habits and skill and that are invaluable and have so much to give. you will have so many doors open to you, because you took the time to open them before you knew they existed. and finally brother, you will have learned, before your time, the most important lesson of all; what it truly means to be a musician, and that there is still so much more room to grow
Do not interact if non-Black. No likes or reblogs.
Twitter is pissing me off. Amanda Seales opened Pandora’s box by saying if you’re buying Jordan’s but don’t have a passport, you’re losing.
Now, people are always trying to lecture Black folks about how they spend their money but this fake deep, out of touch bull is annoying. Comfortably middle class and upper class Black folks get so damn irritating and out of touch with the realities of classism and start pushing that “bootstraps” ass rhetoric to poorer Black folks and start sounding like white people under the guise that they’re trying to “help” or better our communities and that’s GARBAGE. If you’re so interested, use your disposable income or wealth and take DIRECT steps to interrupt the cycles that keep our skinfolk in poverty. Give your money away!! Build properties!!! Directly fund communities instead of getting on Twitter tryna flex and being obnoxious. Just say you’re in Paris and not like the poor negros and go, sis.
Not buying shoes isn’t gonna let people afford to spend thousands on international travel.
This is a post a long time in the making, as it is something
I’ve wanted to share for a while now, just because it is such an important part
of my own craft. There is something truly magical about it and is, for me,
something both very humbling and very empowering; as such, it is something that
I think is worth sharing.
Foremost, the question to address is: What is ecstatic witchcraft? And one not so easily answered, as
there cannot be any one way in which it is performed. It can (I think) be
described as a form of trance magic,
though its expression is not wholly tied to trance in the traditional sense. In
essence, it is a surrendering of self and its simultaneous expression. It is a
temporary shedding of the façade one erects to survive, Freud called it the superego and without it, so too falls
away the ego. The goal of ecstatic witchcraft – if it can be called a goal – is
to allow the id to manifest unencumbered, a means of channeling the primality.
Of course, this manifests in innumerable ways and no two sessions would ever be
the same, hence why it can be so tricky to pin down precisely.
I’ve found that – and it continues still – that the
witchcraft community (predominately) has long perpetuated the notion of control
as being paramount to success, and while this may be true to some extent, I
believe the converse must also be explored. There is law and there is rigidity,
there is correspondence memorization and a lot of book work: and this makes
sense! For the last century (and in times before), this has been the main means
of information acquisition. While it is not uncommon for witches to join
groups, covens, etc., I’m willing to bet that most practicing witches were
indoctrinated through solitary study. Again, there is nothing wrong with this,
and I, myself, am contributing to this reservoir of written information as I
type! But, as I mentioned, while I did my fair share of book work and
memorization, the heart of my Craft has always been exploration. Tradition is
important, but it’s never been enough for me. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it
again: the best way to learn is to do.
There will be mistakes; you will come to conclusions only to find things that
defy them; you will learn to correct; you will learn to be skeptical, but not judgmental.
You will learn there are a thousand purported ‘right’ ways, and then you will
find your own. Nothing is static.
How does this relate then, to ecstatic witchcraft? It is a means by which to connect to that instinct: that intuition that drives
us – shedding preconceived notions and allowing the opportunity for exploration
through action. And action, I feel, is the root of ecstatic magic.
How To Perform Ecstatic Witchcraft
As I mentioned previously, there is no right way and I can only provide to you a number of facets of
expression that are conducive to ecstatic witchcraft. These are by no means the
only facets, and as always, I encourage you to explore what works for you.
Speak – It may seem counterintuitive to what I have said,
for is speech not a construct? It is, but there is power in vocalization, even
if speaking unintelligibly. This is an extension of opaque language – or language
spoken ceremonially as a means of excluding those who are not privy to the
religious tongue – and moves into the realm of glossolalia. Rarely do I include
verbal scripts to be read in the things I post, as I find that they detract
from the working themselves, instead encouraging those performing to speak what
comes. This is a more controlled form of ecstatic witchcraft – bound by
intention, time, and often language itself. Here, let all that fall away and
Move – Ecstatic witchcraft, for me, is all about energy:
movement, especially. It is best not to go into it with any plan, simply follow
where your body takes you. If it says run, run; if it says dance, dance; if it says
squat and howl like a wolf, by gods do it! It is for this and many reasons that
ecstatic magic should be done in a controlled setting, normally somewhere safe –
but I should mention, this need not be done alone! Ecstatic witchcraft can just
as easily be done in groups, though it can get a little more dangerous,
considering the id is often noted as
being the seat of sexuality and aggression. I also recommend putting sharp
objects away – you never know what the hype might bring – but hey, sometimes
you just really need to throw a knife; perform responsibly.
Draw/Write – Admittedly, some of my coolest and most
profound sigils have come from ecstatic sessions! There is something in me that
always wants to take chalk and just go to town on every surface around –
overtaken by mania. Automatic writing is related, in some ways, though often it
is used with intent: channeling a specific spirit, deity, etc. Ecstatic magic
requires no such formalities, bending to the whims of all and none, the witch
is then but an instrument of the spirit: of the cosmos.
Laugh – Laughter is powerful.
Instruments – If you have at your disposal some musical
instruments (I prefer maracas and tambourines), bring them in! And forget what
you think you know about music, just roll with it. Hell, if you want to
continuously shake a maraca and scream with one foot in the air, do it. Again,
it’s all about energy, and instruments bring their own, unique vibes to the
Entheogens – *at your own risk; use responsibly* Sure, they
might compromise some of the safety, but they also bring an entirely new level
of exploration. For some. My use of entheogens in the past have always been hit-or-miss; sometimes they are conducive and other times they are hampering. Know
what works for you, and be careful: you don’t want to show up at the nearest E.R. naked, tripping on an unknown substance with a painted face and defiantly shaking a maraca.
Sex – This harkens back to what I said about working in
groups, sometimes there is a power in it, and the same can be said for adding
sex in. When working with others, always plan for the possibility of sex!
Especially with who you invite in, and in regards to safety. I don’t know the
last time it was used, but the “It was for ecstatic witchcraft” excuse will not
hold up: while it may sound like a damper, J.I.C. consent agreements and
activity do’s and don’t’s should always be agreed upon beforehand, and should always be open to amendment. If
you really want to, draw a circle: anyone who leaves it is has removed
themselves from the session and should not be addressed until they reenter of
their own accord.
With that, I hope it is becoming clear what ecstatic
witchcraft is (or can be), its benefits and how it isn’t really all that new a
concept. It is, for me, a profound experience every time – I come out feeling
energized, powerful, but also with a new frame of mind, having shed societal constriction
and attuned with both the divine and animalistic parts of myself – if even for a moment. In that it is
humbling, and it is empowering.
In my story, I want one of my characters to be quite emotionless (like captain Holt from Brooklyn 99) but still loveable. How can I write it so he doesn't sound like a stone cold bitch?
Hi, darling! Thanks for your question and your patience <3
My god, do I love Captain Holt (and all of the B99 characters really)! I think the show and the actor have done this character very well, balancing his stoic nature with a sense of understood genuineness. This can be a challenge, of course – especially when you don’t have an actor and their nuances to work with. But I have some tips for you!
Writing “Emotionless” Characters
No one is truly emotionless. People who appear “cold” or unfeeling are simply not outwardly expressive. Either they’re very much in control of their emotions (due to social pressures, strict parenting, career/status demands, self-defense), or they naturally process emotions internally, preferring not to share with others. Inexpressive people aren’t necessarily stifling anything – they just don’t feel as strong of a compulsion to cry, grimace, laugh, etc. This can actually be a neurodivergent trait!
Being inexpressive is NOT being indifferent. Too often, quiet/stoic characters are given a passive role in fiction, but the two traits aren’t linked at all. Inexpressive people still care about issues and people; they can take leadership roles and direct action/conversation. They can be as direct or indirect as anyone else. Being stoic
≠ being shy, blunt, or mean.
Inexpressive characters must have strong dialogue. The less body language/emotion at your disposal as a writer, the more important your dialogue choices are. Show their personality through their words – what they notice, what they find amusing, what they care about, and how they share themselves with others. Even if they don’t talk much, use their instances of dialogue to your advantage.
Inexpressive characters must express themselves somehow. Whether it’s through a personal activity, through their humor, or through certain communities/environments, they have to get their emotions and their personality out somehow. Some people come alive online; some people open up more while they’re playing, working, or discussing their interests. Some people just need a quiet or private environment to feel comfortable. But no one is 100% stone-cold all the time.
Inexpressive characters can be a great comedic tool. Having a normally-straightforward character make a well-timed remark can catch the reader off-guard in a very good way. Inexpressive people can play a good “straight man” (in the comedic sense – not the sexual sense), or deliver the deadpan-Jim-Halpert-jokes we all know and love. I’ve seen deadpan characters make simple sarcasm or awful puns hilarious through the element of surprise. Stoic characters do not have to be boring or serious!
That’s all I’ve got for you right now, but if this doesn’t answer your question, the inbox should be open soon! Thanks again, and good luck :)
You have fought valiantly, but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you, rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest, and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.