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Marilyn Doomsday.
A travelling witch, & the
ancient spirit of the forest.
Potion maker, tarot reader &
cat dad. Morally ambiguous.
Marilyn. retweeted
黄幕阳:HUANG MUYANG / LIO
Department Head of Philosophy
—— Exiled Primordial God ——
35. HE/HIM. SINGLESHIP. MDNI.
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#katsukilog. — “when people finish their day and hurry home, my day starts. my diner is open from midnight to seven in the morning. they call it “midnight diner”. tonjiru, sake, beer, shōchū. that’s all i have on my menu. but i make whatever customers +
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Among them, I felt so at ease that I decided to prepare some tea for anyone passing by who seemed like they needed a boost of energy. What I didn't expect was for everyone who tried it to end up wanting to get potions from me. From heavy eyelids to sparkling eyes,
Dear Darling,
As you said, I am magic, so eventually, and after meddling with the lives of regular folks for a little too long, to magic I return. Call it longing, call it homesickness for familiarity: for someone to gaze upon my potions not as a novelty, but as a necessity.
The Midnight Market is its unofficial but most common name, and you guessed it: because it's set at midnight.
There is no particular color that jumps out at you as you enter the chaos nestled between the shrubs, save for the navy blue of the starless sky,
Marilyn. retweeted
Kang Rowoon — 강 로운
1995. Paranormal journalist. The owner of an extensive collection of belts and ties. Has no context and not one clue. Seen as rude by everyone except himself. Will stop at nothing for the sake of the article. Hopelessly devoted to his married colleague.
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Support small businesses everynyan!!
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greetings and happy friday from your little eriberry from london! bryn and i have been spending our one year anniversary exploring the city hand in hand, browsing shops, visiting bakeries, and admiring the beauty of big ben! it’s been fun making new memories together! (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)
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what happens when a black coffee regular drink two matchas a day? i feel like zoooooooooming everywhere right now. is this what they call… matcha rush?
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There never was a version of the hymns where their sacred skin bore the same scars. The devotees gave their flesh & marrow, and for what? Unanswered prayers?
To have faith in the divine is to write your own cold & lonely death. Today, I write theirs.
Let the mighty be humbled.































