#appalchian

[intheholler]

lord. there's been so much doom n gloom coming out my mouth on this blog lately surrounding appalachia. really sorry for that.

i don't wanna leave the impression that appalachia is withering away or something when i'm drawing attention to issues, cause she's not going nowhere. she's ancient. she's been through e v e r y t h i n g and is stronger than anything people might try to inflict upon her.

but with all these talks lately, and with the conversation recentered on us because of fuckface vance... idk. i just don't wanna compound upon it i guess.

we've always had our troubles, yeah, but we also got ancient mountain magic up the hollers that can't be flushed out. hard times and JD's walnut ass can't take appalachia away from us.

[ahedderick]

Cave

Son came over yesterday to return a borrowed shovel and pick; also to show me the photos he took while he and Roommate were caving. Caving underneath our town (god bless Appalachian limestone). Going all the way back in a modest-sized cave system with multiple tight crawls only two very SLIM young men could possibly do. I did not convey to him just how much of the cauld grue that made me feel. I did squeak, "oh! dear!" several times.

He was covered in dirt and scrapes and scratches, and very happy.

[cowbutch-chastity]

Homesick Vent I guess

So I was born and raised in one of the Appalachian Valleys but around 9 months ago moved a bit farther south to be with my lovely partner with a bit more affordable rent so we could save up money and eventually move back up to our home region. But this last weekend we took a vacation back home for my birthday, visiting some friends as well.

Basically getting to see even the outskirts of Appalachia and the valley again was really god damn nice. And now that I'm back to my place down south I'm realizing just how homesick I am. Southern coast swamps are pretty and all but god I miss the mountains. I miss my culture, the blue collar folk I grew up around and that my ma came from. I miss hiking on mountain trails and watching deer run through my backyard and the way my boots felt against trail dirt and gravel roads rather than wet humid mud.

I miss Coyotes and creek fishing and drinking beer by the turkey hill just a quick walk away from a forest. Miss the accents and banjo music and I even miss those shitty mountain churches that I'd never set foot in again. I miss walking out into the woods with my friends and finding old crumbling buildings and railroad tracks that would lead to bridges over offshoots of the Susquehanna.

I miss the little one road town I went to college at and the bookstore with the pride flag always up and the pub where I'd watch frat boys play pool and wish I had a bunch of lesbians to play with. I miss the ways mist would roll in from the river around the mountains in the early morning and it would look like something out of Middle Earth, and the way power lines cut through the hills like scars.

I just miss Appalachia. I miss my home.

[powerlineprincess]

THE PICS ARE FINALLY HERE!!!! I will be posting them later tonight and more as I get everyone's permission that is in them♡♡♡♡

[captainjimothycarter]

“fine line” for the fake fic meme!

Fine Line Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Death, Dark Arts, Necromancy

After being introduced to Peggy Carter by her brother, Steve swore he'd never love anyone as much as he loved Peggy. He fell for Peggy hard, meaning she fell just as hard but was better at hiding it then puppy-dog Rogers. He asked her to marry her within a month of dating and she agreed. They eloped and that should've been that, right? Happily ever after.

Except life had a funny way of doing things, picking Steve up and chewing him up, just to spit him out like the used piece of bubble gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe. 

A year after they'd married, Steve and Peggy were both involved in a fatal car accident where Peggy had succumbed to her wounds weeks later in ICU. Steve felt at a loss, staring at her body, growing cold and listening to the doctor telling him to take as long as he needed.

Life wasn’t fair and Steve was evidence of that, but life should’ve been fair. It should’ve been him, not Peggy. Not the love of his life, not the mother to their future children. Not a woman whose soul burned brighter then any source on this earth. Anyone but her.

He was reckless, he was stupid, and Steve knew he was walking a fine line between his sense of reality. He hadn’t slept in weeks, he was determined to bring her back, to do anything to bring the love of his life back.

Perhaps that’s why he seeked outside council, men and women who dabbled in dark magic, voodoo his Ma called it and begged him not to ever seek out this life. The magic took and took what it wanted and gave nothing back, there was always a monkey paw attached to these requests. He wasn’t above necromancy at this point. 

Steve knew his Ma to be right, afterall she did worship the old Gods, but how could he worship them too when they allowed the love of his life to die? He was going to bring her back, he was going to do whatever the hell it took to have Peggy Carter back in his life.

Fake Title Meme

[sivavakkiyar]

woah the American community service network only formed because NASA moved the ATS satellite to ‘assist’ Indian space development? That’s wild

[forestgreenivy]

Hiking Crabtree Falls in Virginia this weekend. This single waterfall falls just short of 2 miles. So many views of the falls around every corner.

[prozac-shaped-urn]

12:25 mark

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

LORDY WE GOT OURSELVES AN APPALACHIAN

"and it was jOLEEY who said i'aught'a go'hed 'n have you"

"rot in an alley somewhUR"

"you selfish lit'l shit"

"we k'eynt do it"

"take cUR'a us"

This woman had to have either studied the South Appalachian accent or lived somewhere in the North Georgia/Southwest North Carolina/Southeast Tennessee hills for an EXTENDED period of time. She slips in and out, so it ain't perfect, but it's there! It's clearly there!!

From what I understand, she grew up in Greenville, SC, which sounds literally nothing like this. Listen to Andie MacDowell speak and you'll hear the drastic differences. So at first I got confused like ".....k so she's from the south but she's not using her natural accent? To play a southern character?? Sure that makes sense." And then a few more scenes into this compilation I noticed a shift to a strong Appalachian twang and realized she probably moved around some, which would mean she could have picked up a lot of Appalachian sounds from various parts of the range, which accounts for her wondering in and out of a firm South Appalachia accent but it still very much coming through.

Yes, I'm fully aware Greenville IS in Appalachia, but it ain't the hills. And the hills have very distinct roughness to the accent and dialect that the central parts of the states don't. Which makes J speaking my language, my accent, my heritage nearly perfectly so incredibly special to me. Her and Jean Smart in The Yearling (1994). Jean is pitch perfect. No notes. J is a 7/10 but that's a VERY hard accent to maintain unless you lived there during childhood and grew up with the hard consonant sounds that the hills are known for.

[wytchwyse]

Your aptitude for magic is not in your tradition of magic. It is in your effort to learn your system/tradition/religion.

These are my opinions, and observations.

Traditional Wicca, Folkloric Witchcraft, Feri, Appalchian folk magic, Hoodoo, NOLA Voodoo, Santeria, Hellenism, Celtic polytheism, Obeah, curanderismo, Sabbatic Witchcraft, Luciferianism, ceremonial magic, catholic folk magic, folk religions etc.

All of these are magical traditions/ systems and many are religious in nature. None of them are more "powerful" then another. Spirituality is no different than anything else, you get out of it what you put into it. Once more I see a disturbing Trend within occulture This concept that some systems are greater than others. Magic, sorcery, occultism are not games that we play, they are not an aesthetic, they're not a costume. they take time, they take effort, you are expected to grow as a person as you grow with your practice.if what you care about is arguing over whose God is more powerful than I can assure you any magic that you think you're doing you're not. That is not the point of why we practice the arte magical.

If you are still experiencing these delusions of grandeur as you practice your magic you have a lot of work to do within yourself. Your magic should be used to propel yourself forward Psychologically, exoterically and esoterically. The practice of magic no matter where it came from, or what point in time it came out of has no bearing on its potency.

Let's remember the importance of rationality in the occult , it is okay to keep our heads in the clouds as long as our feet are firmly on the ground beneath us. So just to reiterate no, your God will not beat up someone else's God that's childish and ridiculous. Sorcery demands maturity, otherwise you're just LARPing.

[bobcatblahs]

Googling JD Vance be like:

Man I hate JD Vance

And no- he’s is fucking NOT Appalchian.

[intheholler]

appalachian murder ballad for your judgement https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3f230yPwos

i LOVE THIS holy SHIT. and to hear his accent coloring it AAAAAAA i just got like... idk.

i don't know to describe it without sound stupid as fuck, but when i was listening, i got something i can only describe as a generational chill.

anyway, thought id like to post this little note from the description of the video

Busking a wee Appalachian murder ballad called “Wild Bill Jones” on the banjo down a wee close (alleyway) in Edinburgh, Scotland, on a cold winter’s night. The Appalachian folk tradition is so rich and beautiful and includes most of my favourite songs to play in the world, this being one of them. It’s also deeply interconnected with the Scottish folk tradition and even the mountains themselves were once part of the same mountain range many thousands of years ago.

idk, it just feels so,, reverant.

truly awesome rec, thanks so much for sendin it my way. chucking it onto my appalachian murder ballad playlist dreckly <333

[nerdygoth77]

Hi I have come to request to collect some drabbles or headcannons on your fave fallout character reuniting with the main character? It can be your fallout OC with your romance companion or whoever you'd like! tia❤

My first request!! Thank you so much for your ask! :)

I decided to do my Fallout 4 Nuka World Overboss OC, Lilly! Paired with my favorite, Porter Gage. I did a short drabble!

Reunited

Read on AO3 here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49325812/chapters/147352036

or just read below!

It had been two weeks and three days since Gage had last seen Lilly, and he was more than anxious for her return. He and Lilly had left on a bit of a rough note, all because Gage didn’t want Lilly to go out on her own. 

 She had been preparing for this little trip to the Commonwealth for a while now, explaining carefully that he couldn’t come, it was something that she had to handle alone. He had gotten agitated at being told to stay behind. He and Lilly had hardly been separated since she became overboss about ten months ago. She could handle herself well, but his nerves still spiked at the thought of her out there alone. They had argued about it, Lilly trying to convince Gage by telling him that Dogmeat would keep her safe. Her attempt at calming his nerves only made Gage more irate. Gage knew Dogmeat was a protective and vicious companion, but he wasn’t invincible. 

But she won anyway. Gage was left standing at the gate of Nukaworld, fuming as he watched Lilly ride off into the wasteland on her favorite horse, that dog of hers hot on their heels. Gage’s lips still tingled from her goodbye kiss, the taste of her lipstick sweet on his lips. His heart strained as he watched her, the sun just barely peeking over the Appalchian mountains. Then she was gone, slipping into the darkness of the shadows. Porter heaved a sigh before making his way back to Fizztop.

Now Porter Gage sat inside the old Fizztop Grille restaurant that he and Lilly had turned into a nice home. They had dragged out most of the tables and chairs, only leaving a few alongside the work benches. Their bed was up on a small platform, right next to an armor workbench and power armor station that was holding the Nuka T-51 power armor. It was purely for decoration and for holding Lilly’s magnet collection, Lilly and Gage both not fans of the clunky suit. Power armor always made Gage sweat and feel claustrophobic, and Lilly hated it because her agility in the suit was awful. 

The old restaurant had really become a home, even the mutt had his own corner with a soft fluffy bed and plenty of chew toys. Lilly had decorated the walls with everything from old paintings to animal skulls, a few even human. They had removed all of Colter’s “decorations” and cleaned up the place real nice. 

They had more storage than they knew what to do with, trunks, boxes, and dressers full of items scattered around the room. Most boxes were full of scrap or junk waiting to become scrap. Gage and Lilly went through a lot of scrap, using it to constantly repair their armor and weapons. 

Soft colorful rugs scattered the room. Lilly had learned pretty quickly that the floor got freezing cold in the wintertime, and that the rugs saved them from cold feet on chilly mornings. Gage thought they looked silly and frilly, but he wouldn’t dare complain to his peculiar pre-war love. A massive quilt that Lilly had made herself covered the large bed. They even had comfy pillows. Lilly really enjoyed creature comforts like softness when she could have it, not that Gage was complaining about the soft blankets or running water. He hadn’t lived this well in his whole life, and he had a beautiful woman to share it with. 

The old kitchen had been cleaned up and was a kitchen again, the fridge laying face down in the middle of the floor with the back panel ripped off. Getting the old fridge to work, along with some other appliances was on Gage’s extremely long list of shit to fix. 

Gage sat at one of his work benches, his attention entirely focused on the baseball bat in front of him. He was trying to turn one of Lilly’s many colorful “killing bats” into a spiked rocket bat. Getting the nails in had been the easy part, the rocket mechanism giving Gage a little trouble. 

The radio was playing loudly, redeye rambling about who gives a fuck. Gage just had it on for the noise, the sound and tinkering keeping him busy and from stressing over Lilly. Redeye was loud, but not loud enough for Gage to not hear the patio door open quietly and shut softly. Gage pretended like he didn’t hear a thing, waiting for the footsteps to get closer. He dropped his hands from his tools to under the table, his hand finding one of the half dozen guns that were duct taped to the underside of the table. 

Suddenly a familiar wet nose nudged at his hand, Gage looking down to see a very happy Dogmeat. He let out a sigh of relief and removed his hand from the gun, patting Dogmeat on the head. The mutt was wagging his tail so hard his body wiggled, Lucy giggling from behind Gage at the dog. “Someone missed you.” She cooed, laughing as the dog picked up his front feet repeatedly in excitement, looking like he was doing a little dance. 

Gage rubbed the dog behind his ears before he stood up and turned to look at Lilly. “You made it back!” He spoke, his eyes roving over her fit form to see she looked a little worse for wear. She looked exhausted, her bright pink hair and freckled skin filthy with the dirt and grime of the wasteland. Her dark eye makeup was smeared and running down her face, her red lipstick long gone. The bags under her eyes were large, exhaustion pulling at Lilly’s sore muscles, causing her perfect posture to falter as she slouched her shoulders under the heavy weight of tiredness. The bounty hunter duster and road leathers she wore were a bit tattered, but otherwise she seemed to be in one piece. 

“I told you he’d protect me.” She grinned, approaching Gage with open arms. “Yeah yeah yeah.” Gage grumbled, giving the dog one last pat before pulling Lilly into a tight hug. Her exhausted body relaxed against his warmth, his large chest a great pillow for her head. He rested his chin atop her head, his hands gently rubbing her back. He breathed her in, that sweet smell of her usual perfumes and scents slightly masked by the smell of the wasteland. She reeked like radiation and sweat, that metal smell lingering on her clothes 

They just stood there for a moment, holding one another. All of the stress disappeared from Gage now that she was back in his arms. Sometimes he’d get into his head about her; sometimes he felt that she was way too good for him and that one day she’d get the sense to leave him. But here she was, back in his arms. 

When she looked up, Gage ran his thumb along her bottom lip, feeling the large cut that swiped down her lip to her chin. When she flinched away he moved his hand to cup her face, “What mess did you get yourself into darlin’?” He frowned. Lilly just shrugged one of her shoulders and leaned into his touch, “Nothing Dogmeat and I couldn’t handle.” The weak smile she gave him said otherwise. Gage rolled his eyes at her, his thumb wiping a smear of dirt from her cheek. He could tell Lilly was exhausted and bruised up, and in desperate need of a bath and a good night's sleep. 

Gage pulled her into a soft kiss lingering kiss, pulling away when Lilly tried to take it a step forward. “As much as I’ve missed you baby,”  He drawled, grabbing Lilly’s hand, “I can tell you need a rest.” Lilly let out a sigh but nodded in agreement, “Yeah I do. That and a shower. I’m gross.”

He gave her hand a gentle tug, a smirk on his face. “Yeah you are, you stink.” He faked disgust, Lilly huffing and shoving at his shoulder. Lilly rolled her eyes when the solid wall of muscle didn’t budge, “No worse than you.” He mocked her dramatic eye roll and pulled her towards the bathroom. “Then c’mon.” 

Lilly let out a bemused huff and followed Gage to their bathroom, allowing him to take care of her.

Find more of Lilly and Gage on my blog and AO3

[teriel]

This week I interview Byron Ballard about Appalchian Folk Magic. We discuss how folk magic works and how to create a spiritual lineage of your own. We also discuss the importance of research and why folk magic can be done anywhere.

Originally aired Dec 18th 2021

Comment podcast and I will dm you a link to the episode.

[powerlineprincess]

☆"I owe you a black eye and two kisses, tell me when you wanna come n get 'em." 2023 35mm K.E.A LuxHill☆

[kowboykiller]

vent/blogbost 1

y'all. i was raised in a tourist town & now i live in a much bigger tourist town, in california, no less. and recently i've seen ppl in the south talking about how people 'from california' (which i will address in a minute) simply due to the the cost of living in california being too damn high, are buying up summer homes in the appalchian ridge, texas, etc., not really understanding the horrific oppression the south experiences - the poverty, the substance abuse, the endless structural issues as result of gerrymandering - and chickening out the second things get too hot. hell, i've even seen people from places like new york saying the evil los angeles californians are singlehandedly gentrifying entire neighborhoods en masse because buh-buh-buh they can't afford rent so they come here and ruin it for everyone!!

the thing i don't think ppl from other states realize is that those people who can afford summer homes in the appalachian ridge are not fucking californians. at least, not by birth. the thing they're doing, or trying to do, in your beautiful appalachian ridge? well, they did the same thing to our coasts. these gentrifiers, these so called 'californians' are not born-and-raised californians. you wanna know how i know? because most californians live in abject poverty most of our lives. no born-and-raised californian flees to the south once the cost of living gets too high. why do you think we have one of the highest homeless populations in the country? why do you think 90% of california's homeless population became homeless while they were still in the state? why do you think 66% of them were born in cali?

the 'californians' y'all claim to be ruining the country are the midwesterners californians pay rent to.

[moonshynecybin]

@babynflames tagged me smooch.

five songs i actually listen to:

kitty kat by megan thee stallion. literally daily.

first time by lucy dacus. two separate fic titles from this song recently. which could mean nothing.

feathered indians by tyler childers. save me. save meeee tyler childers. played this a lot when i was abroad bc he's an appalchian king

casual by chappell roan

bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo bc on repeat its so fun

i will tag um @officialbabayaga, @micamicster, and @agnst-crrnt if you wannaaaa