Made this because of yet another Tumblr fiasco! Im a queer witch trying to find a new home that offers the same quirkyness as tumblr. But without the problems :)
Woody’s roundup is keeping my dash way safer than Tumblr’s new filters ever could
Okay what is this woody’s roundup thing I’m so confused
You know how sometimes you’d see an argument on your dash, and one person was being an ass, and it got a lot of notes, and the ass’s account deactivated? Someone (likely a group of people) snagged a fuckton of those deactivated urls and turned them into this weird, hivemind-like rp of woody from toy story. So now, on those old argument posts, if you click on the source of a blog saying “racism is good actually”, it’s got an icon of woody and the title is “Howdy Pardner”
They also “got memeufacturing” yesterday, which increased the attention given to them. Memeufacturing was a popular shitpost blog that deactivated when people claimed the person running it was sexually harassing people (and doing some other icky stuff, I forget the details, it was like a year ago), so now if anyone clicks on the source of an old memeufacturing shitpost, it’s one of these strange woody rp blogs.
People have also been calling it the Woody Takeover and the Woody Collective, but whoever is running these blogs seems to prefer to call themsel(f/ves) “woody’s roundup”.
Pardner
The woody collective is suddenly and inexplicably all over my dash and I’m a smidgen terrified
Drink peppermint tea or chew on peppermint leaves when you have a stomach ache
Hold cloves against your gums to numb a tooth ache
Boil parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme and drink them to reduce fever
After cleaning a wound, apply honey to help it heal and keep it from getting infected
Drink catnip and lemon balm tea to calm down after a stressful day
Take 5 grams a night of powdered valerian root to help you sleep and combat depression
Eat garlic to promote digestive health and prevent diarrhea
Dealing with Spirits:
Always leave an offering to house spirits and garden spirits
Only hang bells where you don’t want spirits entering (though there are a few do actually like bells, but they’ve been nothing but positive in my experience)
Clean from the east side of the house, westward
If a fairy ring grows in your garden, wait for the mushrooms to start dying before you pull them out
If you “lost” an heirloom, check your jewelry box, curio cabinet, or the favorite spot your deceased relative liked to keep said object, even if you don’t put it there ever. It may not really be lost.
Always answer the door on Halloween, but don’t let anyone in. (this goes for creepy people too, not just spirits)
Your pet is not crazy. When s/he flips out, reassure them, and be aware that you may not be able to see what they can.
Believe in your own Abilities:
Don’t buy in to the power of persuasion. You may not notice anything supernatural, because there may not be anything supernatural going on.
If you think something happened because you cast a spell, even if you can’t “prove” it, then it happened *at least in part* because you cast a spell. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Sometimes, the only effect a spell has, is to give us enough confidence to deal with whatever it is we were asking for help with. That’s a success in my book, and it should be in yours too.
If you’ve got a bad feeling about something, then don’t do it.
Ginger tea is also good for a fever, but to much ginger in your tea will give you a fever. Always use fresh slices ginger instead of powdered ginger to avoid this problem.
Local honey plus lemon slices plus ginger slices all mixed in a jar with room to move and stored in your fridge make an amazing healthy allergy and cold fighting potion.
As always, don’t replace your doctor and medical care with witchcraft!
SLYTHERIN: “Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours! Protect them! Save them!… My dreams! My brother! My family! My land! My world! How dare you try to take these things, because they are mine!” -Terry Pratchett (The Wee Free Men)
These are the words written on a post-it (a human invention) in Persephone’s bedroom. They’re written in what she fondly calls New English, aka the English that her mother still doesn’t know, even after all these years.
Every morning, when she wakes, she sees this post-it stuck onto the stone wall and makes herself read it out loud.
“Stop checking on him,” she says, arms wrapped tight around her knees. “He doesn’t miss you.” The words bring the familiar sting of pain, the familiar tightness in her chest, the accompanying breathlessness. There’s still a part of her that rebels at the thought, that clings to what he said before and not after.
She thinks she might have been happier loving a mortal, which is so in fashion these days that her mother is gallivanting about Earth like she hadn’t spent centuries chastising Persephone for the same. If she loved a mortal, she could bind them in ways that it’s impossible to bind a god.
She gets up and gets ready for her day. Being an immortal means that she can’t just spend all day in bed. That path leads to centuries of apathy and she’s still young. So very, very young.
“Go back to Olympus. I should have known better than to let a child into my kingdom.”
There was no “letting” about it. She’d been younger still and in chains and in captivity and in love. She’d beguiled and coerced so that he’d take her with him, made him free her.
She’d thought she was shedding her chains, choosing new ones that better suited her, but she didn’t see the way her discarded shackles slipped onto him. She didn’t see what a burden she was, what a burden she would become to him, how limiting, how heavy, how stupid.
It’s been five years now and she’s still counting seasons like she has a chance of being let back in. Summer and winter, summer and winter, summer and winter, ad nauseum. Her mother had said that she’d stick to the cycle, that the Earth actually benefited from winter, but Persephone sees the way the summers are growing longer and hotter, the way the winters are short but so sharp she could cut her teeth on them.
Spring? She stopped that a long time ago. The melting of winter is good enough for mortals and gods alike. They don’t notice and, therefore, they don’t ask.
Candlelight-magick 