Killiney Hill, Ireland by Martina Scanu
504 notes
·
View notes
I love you, media and music based on folklore, mythology, and old stories passed on from generation to generation. I love you, people who take these sorts of things “too seriously” and begin genuinely analysing what’s generally overlooked as a silly story. I love you, people who both romanticise these stories and point out the very real horror that lies in a lot of them. I love you, people who refuse to let the stories and folklore important to their culture fade away, even when for hundreds or even thousands of years people have attempted to erase their history and culture. I love you, people who reclaim their people’s stories and tell them from the mouths of those it originally belonged to. I love yo
2K notes
·
View notes
the perfect job for every supernatural character in fanfiction is in fact park ranger. dean should be a park ranger. cas should be a park ranger. sam should be a park ranger. jody, claire, kevin, charlie, bobby, gabriel, eileen, mick davies and rowena should be park rangers. jack should be a park ranger in training. stop making them cops in fanfiction. dean hates cops. fuck cops.
105 notes
·
View notes
John Franklin (1806/7 – circa 1881–91), 'The Mermaid', ''The Book of British Ballads'' by Samuel Carter Hall, 1842
Source
215 notes
·
View notes
I went for a walk in the woods of Ireland today, still plenty of colour on the trees although lots of fall as can be seen in this open patch of ground on the right. A river with clear water flows through the woodland.
61 notes
·
View notes
Finally finished my recent Celtic knot handle in Walnut. That was relaxing to return to where this whole business started and forget about production spoons for awhile!
357 notes
·
View notes
hi 💙 please have you thought of beefy husband ian maybe trying on clothes? he ordered a few things online. styles that he’s wanted to try, the return of printed button downs, a new leather jacket, jeans that hug him just right? and he’s moving this and that way in front of the mirror while mickey just lounges in bed losing his mind? trying so hard not to pounce and rip these things right off? and ian’s oblivious? “hmm do you like this, mick? it’s a little tight around the shoulders. i’m not sure…” and mickey’s all 👀💪🏼🍑👀🤯😮💨🤤🤲🏼🤲🏼🤲🏼🤲🏼
🗣️ yyyyyyeeeeeeaaaaaaaaah !
love this. imagine they're trying to update their fall wardrobe, so ian's got that good scruff/beard going, his shoulders taking up so much of the mirror as he tries on a thick red plaid and some dark jeans that hug his ass and mickey's just sitting on their bed completely silent like ..............tf do i have a motherfucking lumberjack fetish...
45 notes
·
View notes
Fox goes deep into the woods. He knows of an old stone shelter which sits by a stream that babbles its way into a small pond. He knows not who built it nor when. He has some books there and a teapot. The wind rustles the grass and the leaves, the water trickles over stones. Some ducks paddle by in the pond as steam rises from an old blue teapot. Fox decides he shall stay here for the day.
I wanted to convey a scene that would give the viewer a sense of calm and solitude. Fox is alone here, away from his thoughts and from the rest of the world. This is a quiet and peaceful place for him. I wanted the viewer to feel what Fox feels as he sits there with his books and tea by the pond.
74 notes
·
View notes
poem about being autistic i wrote before i knew im autistic
I am something that perhaps was once human
A thing caught in glimpses
But never clear enough to be real
Never seen fully enough to construct
Something beautifully terrible
A wild thing
A child abandoned in the wood
Taken in by faeries
Not a swap, not an even deal
One life for another
Just a quiet whisking away
For the chance that was in it
But sídh are not men
They are secrets and whispers
Strange-mannered folk, easily angered
Not the type to make grown from a child
I would have to do the raising myself
Create a person without seeing one
How odd, to craft what one has never lived
Like a medieval painting of an animal, never quite right
So I set to task to build a self
A something, at least
A haphazard making of a man
An insulting impression of a woman
A mask can take a battering
108 notes
·
View notes
Ballinastoe Woods, Wicklow
It's a scenic wood, perhaps inhabitated by mythological creatures but never a spooky place.
Moss on the trees, soft needle floor and soft sidelighting.
Enchanted, for sure.
41 notes
·
View notes