#hallowedding

[sovaghoul]

Hallowedding Inspo🖤🎃

bridal horned rose crown

starlit veil

bridal gown

bride's ring set

bridal attendant dress

Look I've wanted a fall wedding since I was little. The color scheme was going to be deep red and gold and cream (like an off-white yellowish tone to match the gold). I've just pivoted to deep red and black and silver bc Spooky Goth Reasons.

[deathonist]

batty and i met through mcr. today i proposed to him with mcr lyrics. happy fucking halloween, motherfuckers

[hellfirehaley]

I feel weird sharing these on my other social media forms but I trust y’all. It’s my first anniversary and I’m super happy/emotional🥹. I hope y’all find your partner in life. First thing: We danced to I Write Sins Not Tragedies by HIS choice🤣 This man has been my best friend on top of my life partner for over 6 years. These are some of my favorite photos from this day last year. My favorite part was being married by my big brothers who MC’ed the shit out of it.

[vintage-halloween]

Hallowedding

[barok-vanzieks]

What makes a hallowed chalice different than a normal chalice? Is there such a thing as an unholy chalice?

Yes, there is.

To fill a chalice with milk is to deprive it of any semblance of hallowedness.

[hiswordsarekisses]

This earnest longing after Jesus has a blessing attending it: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness”;1 and therefore, supremely blessed are those who thirst for the Righteous One. Blessed is that hunger, since it comes from God: If I do not experience the blessedness of being filled, I will come again in my emptiness and eagerness until I am filled with Christ. If I do not yet feed on Jesus, I will continue to hunger and thirst after Him. There is a hallowedness about that hunger, since it sparkles among the beatitudes of our Lord. But the blessing involves a promise. These hungry ones “shall be satisfied” with what they desire. If in this way Christ causes us to long after Him, He will certainly satisfy those longings; and when He does come to us, as come He will, how sweet it will be!

~ C H Spurgeon

[mintymarill]

Her mind was groping after something that eluded her experience, a something that was shadowy and menacing, and yet in some way congenial; a something that lurked in waste places, that was hinted at by the sound of water gurgling through deep channels and by the voices of birds of ill-omen. Loneliness, dreariness, aptness for arousing a sense of fear, a kind of ungodly hallowedness—these were the things that called her thoughts away from the comfortable fireside.

Lolly Willowes, Sylvia Townsend Warner

[echthr0s]

I don't know. don't get me wrong. I love the Accountant. I want better for him. I think he should unionise and demand better working hours and more time off to go count sunflower petals or calculate wacky Angry Birds trajectories or do research on seashells. I don't think he or any of the other self-shards that so assiduously impede our ability to connect are doing it to purposefully impede our ability to connect. they're doing it to protect us; to preserve our soft red heart for a kinder future. they're doing it because they believe so strongly in our inherent value and hallowedness that they will fight to keep it safe, even if it means hurting us in the process.

but the question becomes: how will we know when that kinder future has arrived? how do we align ourselves on the path of it when we cannot practice the values this kinder future will require of us? what use is protection if the thing being held safe in the vault withers and dies with the passing of time? what if the waiting kills us?

[grandhotelabyss]

Hm, an Anglican, the son of a Catholic convert, and a Catholic convert. Isn’t the advantage of being Italian that you can drink from the pure well of the Church undefiled? 

I am the child of Italian immigrants, reared and educated in the Church but also in the more pagan milieu of Catholicism as actually practiced by people who had come down to America out of the stony hills of Abruzzo where even in the middle 20th century electricity had not arrived and the serpent-goddess Angitia still rode as a rumor on the wind. Like the controversial Camille Paglia, whom I started reading in my teens and instantly understood, I believe this pagan bedrock—or not bedrock but watery womb—to be the true advantage of my Catholic education and am suspicious of the mere moralism of the Anglo convert, the seeker after some stable truth beyond the petty purlieus of English empiricism—itself culturally appealing to me as a longtime student and even teacher of British literature, a domestic anarchism that rises right out of the earth, trailing roots and soil, whether in Chaucer or Shakespeare, Wordsworth or Hardy, Lawrence or Forster.

But, while Scruton and Tolkien mean nothing to me, I do like Chesterton. I’ve never read his fiction, though, give or take a Father Brown story. Just the magisterial Orthodoxy, the biography of fleshy Aquinas subtitled The Dumb Ox, and the underrated literary criticism, those pocket-sized panegyrics on Chaucer, Blake, Dickens. Would The Man Who Was Thursday—subtitled A Nightmare—be a good book to read for Halloween? I think I have a copy somewhere amid all the printed matter in this apartment.

Ironically, as Giorgia Meloni cites Chesterton the better to thunder against contemporary gender ideology, I found Chesterton through Gaiman’s Sandman, where he appears ruddy cheek by rouged jowl with all the appealingly drawn gay and trans characters. Like the currently besieged rulers of Iran, Chesterton would, I suspect, not be unfriendly to binary transgenderism as it retains the separateness and hallowedness of the two sexes. He might scorn radical feminism and genderfluidity alike, on the other hand, as vitiating this metaphysical distinction. He identified Blake as a gnostic; wouldn’t he say the same about a woman who inspired Blake: the founding feminist Wollstonecraft? In the derogatory parlance of the Tumblr trans activist, he would be a truscum, not a TERF; it is Hunter Schafer, not Giorgia Meloni, who ought to be declaiming his words from a dais. To add woman to man might, anyway, be redundant, if we believe this memorable passage from Orthodoxy:

The man who lives in contact with what he believes to be a living Church is a man always expecting to meet Plato and Shakespeare to-morrow at breakfast. He is always expecting to see some truth that he has never seen before. There is one only other parallel to this position; and that is the parallel of the life in which we all began. When your father told you, walking about the garden, that bees stung or that roses smelt sweet, you did not talk of taking the best out of his philosophy. When the bees stung you, you did not call it an entertaining coincidence. When the rose smelt sweet you did not say “My father is a rude, barbaric symbol, enshrining (perhaps unconsciously) the deep delicate truths that flowers smell.” No: you believed your father, because you had found him to be a living fountain of facts, a thing that really knew more than you; a thing that would tell you truth to-morrow, as well as to-day. And if this was true of your father, it was even truer of your mother; at least it was true of mine, to whom this book is dedicated. Now, when society is in a rather futile fuss about the subjection of women, will no one say how much every man owes to the tyranny and privilege of women, to the fact that they alone rule education until education becomes futile: for a boy is only sent to be taught at school when it is too late to teach him anything. The real thing has been done already, and thank God it is nearly always done by women. Every man is womanised, merely by being born.

Giorgia, they tell us, is a fascist. But until the liberal center is willing to do anything serious about the economic and social dislocation its preferred policies cause—the hollowed-out industrial core, the metastasis of bureaucracy, the reduction of all culture to calculus, empire’s blown-back brutality—we will continue to lose sympathy for its partisans as they find themselves beset by fascists and communists and reply with little better than moralist bromides. Loyal to the liberalism that sheltered my immigrant forebears as well as to the non-liberal mystique they carried with them across the Atlantic, I have made my own humble proposals—so far, alas, ignored.

[maria13squash]

Navigating the labyrinth with wary steps in search of the truth, a thread has been delicately knitted with the artistry of vulnerability, Uncovering unadulterated emotions in a monarchy surrounded by ambiguity and doubt. This tumultuous force of your arrival once stood as a perplexing fortress.

I strengthened every broken piece of my protection, embodying merciless force. But still, you devastated my fortress, leaving me demilitarised and unprotected.

Breaching ruined Hallowedness, only vigilance is what now remains, my soul left fragmented, along with the ruins of my refuge. Your cold words portrayed me as a liar, but it simply isn't true, your deceptive web intertwined with mine.

Awry, your intentions I have misinterpreted, the more daring I become, the more I reclaim my voice. Steadfast friends are by my side, they stand with me, an unbreakable front. Building courage, through the embrace of unity.

The rhythm of decisiveness and drums of war, their resignation echoes in my every heartbeat. As we exile the shadows, the darkness recedes, fortified and fearless.

My boundaries are firmly inaugurated, and a shield is created from the touch of fallacy with the outlaw of trespassing. Pain and misconceptions no longer hold leverage.

As I ignite the bridges a light is cast, renewal is made, delusions discarded, and self-worth embraced. Enlightened, I boldly reclaim my domain. Touhgend, I'm empowered by the journey's tests. Victories, unwavering companionship of those who stand beside me.

The tales from the past diminish with every step I take, a symphony of empowerment leads the way to a new chapter, a new page, a new break of dawn.

[sponsalia]

A Witchy “Hallowedding” in New Orleans - Rock N Roll Bride

[1892]

That's literally so amazing it's so wack to think that we used to talk forever ago and now ur married?!? Wtf!!! I'm glad u had fun with your hallowedding and hope u get to see ur wife soon <3

NO IT’S LITERALLY SO WILD sometimes i see ppl i haven’t seen in a while and they ask me like what’s new and i get to hold up my left hand and say that i’m married it’s the cutest :’) also HALLOWEDDING IS SO GOOD i can’t believe i didn’t think of that……incredible thank u for sharing i appreciate this so much mwah :))) <3

[infrequently-vile]

Dancing with my husband on our wedding day 🖤

[vampir-teeth]

you have a husband?

Yep!

We’ve been married since October 31, 2019. 🎃🖤🦇

[genderfluid-lord-licorice]

*sits smugly with my new industrialplant remrom commission* 😏😏😏

[spookylilapple]

I want to relive this day!! 10.10.20