i touched myself to this picture

  • Aries: Something that will not allow me to express myself."
  • Taurus: Untrustworthy."
  • Cancer: Pictures of my ex... I still love you Karen, but I need to let you go."
  • Leo: Not matching my skin tone."
  • Virgo: Dirty."
  • Libra: A world without friendship."
  • Scorpio: Me having to expose my secrets to other people."
  • Sagittarius: A life without adventure."
  • Capricorn: Not covered in money."
  • Aquarius: Actually... I'll touch the floor. What's the worse that could happen?"
  • Pisces: A world without emotions."
I loved you too much to notice. When you started coming home later I pushed it to the back of my mind. When your jaw clenched and your fingers dug into your palm I ignored it. When shot glasses replaced picture frames I kept a smile. I let myself see the you I first met. The you who had a touch so gentle it was as if there was no contact at all. The you who’s smile was so bright it almost made you forget about the world outside. You, who chased away my demons even when they towered over you. You who promised forever, who promised a future. You who laughed like a child and loved like it kept you alive. The you who loved art and would jump during horror movies. The you who swore to protect me from the monsters in the movies and the closet. But soon enough the monsters from the movies could be seen behind your eyes and while I was drunk on you, you were drunk on whiskey.
—  Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #2

Sarah was proud of herself. Not only had she found a successful man that would spoil her as she lounges around, but he bought her this huge house she was standing in.

What she hadn’t planned on was the consequences of being so needy. When her husband didn’t put a condom on their first night in the new house and laughed about it when she asked, she quickly realized that if she was going to get all those rooms, he was going to get to fill them.

A year and a three months after that first night, Sarah posed to take a quick picture for her husband while he was away on a work trip. A set of triplets later, she was already working on his quads. She had sure done a lot of growing since he’d been gone and it was evident on her frame.

“You’ve got me too big to touch myself this time,” she typed. I need you to get home soon and take care of the baby machine you’ve created. “And remember to schedule time off 5 months from now. We need to get started on those other rooms. And if you don’t mind, I think we might want to plan on all our kids sharing rooms.”

I imagine that when Marinette finally asks Adrien on a date it will be with full Ladybug confidence and full Marinette awkwardness. (She probably fell into that position and only narrowly avoided calling him “hot stuff”)

Thank you to everyone who came to the stream! Bonus doodles under the cut:

Keep reading


It’s a sunny Saturday morning, the sun is just peaking through a gap between your cream coloured curtains, illuminating your room. You smile to yourself, as you stir in your sleep, replaying the events of last night…where you celebrated with your friends until early hours of the morning.

You roll over onto your side, your lips tugging into an even larger smile as you admire the sleeping man beside you. You watch as his chest rises and falls, his dark brown locks twisted in such a way that they fall perfectly over his closed eyes. God. His eyes. When they were open you felt safe in his chocolaty orbs. You felt protected and at home. You loved them.

You took note of how the sun highlighted every dent and every crevice in his supple creamy skin. You noticed every mole and every freckle that dotted his jaw. Lifting a hand, you reached out and softly stroked back some hair that covered his face…and wondered….

How did you get so lucky?

“How long are you gonna lay there for just staring at me?” He mumbled, his voice low and gravelly. You grinned, pressing a kiss to his nose before pulling back and watching as his eyelids fluttered open to reveal his beautiful brown eyes.

“For as long as you’ll let me darling” you murmur back, reaching out to intertwine your fingers. Tom smiled at you briefly, before snaking an arm around your waist.

“Then stare forever, because I don’t want you looking at anyone else that way” he whispered, his British accent breaking through. You softly touched his cheek, savouring the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips. You bit your lip, looking your boyfriend directly in the eyes.

“I wouldn’t dream of it…”

Posting a picture of myself in a bathing suit is VERY hard for me. I have never been one to show off too much skin, and it’s not just because I’m a larger woman.
After this amazing #Wrestlemania weekend I had a chance to speak to a bunch of young women & men. Most, if not all of them, mentioned that my #BodyPositive mindset had helped them to be able to find confidence within themselves, which really touched me and even brought me to tears numerous times. Thankfully I have always had a family that has supported me and has always reminded me that my beauty comes from within, especially my mother. She constantly reminded me that “no matter how beautiful you are on the outside, if you’re insides are ugly, that will be what everyone sees & feels.” Don’t get me wrong, there have been many occasions where I wished I could be thinner or have a different nose or hairline to fit in, but I realized that fitting in is not always as important as it seems; I realized that I love standing out in positive ways!

I love sending a message of self-confidence and getting to share that with people. Self-confidence also goes along with being healthy! I work out all the time, I eat healthy & try (emphasis on TRY) to get as much sleep as I can. There are obviously times where I love to pig out and enjoy myself, but I always make sure to never lose my focus on being healthy, because no matter what, your health is the number one most important thing in life. We aren’t meant to look the same, but we are all meant to be healthy. We are all beautiful in different ways. Staying healthy adds to beauty. Even more importantly, it will increase your self-confidence. That’s been my experience at least 😉. #JaxJungle #NotLikeMost #PowerOfBeingYou

I wonder if Aliens have movies like ours?

I say this as a make up artist I seen the process of you know people getting into Velociraptor suits, or how Harry from Harry and the hendersons was made.

The first Alien movie?


You have people making silicone heads that look so life like you would be shocked. There are so many practical effects that like you can tell when something is CGI vs something in makeup.

How about Aliens seeing our practical effect movies?

The movies like Alien or Jurassic park? Or Stranger Things? They can spit out the ones that are computer generated fine. They use that technology themselves for entertainment. But the movies where the creature was there??? That is harder to wrap their heads around..

“So… in the movie Alien vs. Predetor… you tell me those are humans…. in suits?”


“And you did not really reanimate ancient giant creatures from your past?”

“Oh no. Those are robots…. except for the the velociraptors. Those are guys in suits.”

“And those people who were stabbed and killed?”

“Oh all fake. It was a fake blade and fake blood.”

Aliens just think humans are really good at mimicking. One even stares at a few of their speices for a few days takes pictures and suddenly one of their own is on their ship and mimicking their voices before laughing and Human stacy’s voice comes from the alien is it takes of their hand to show a smaller fleshy humans hand.

“I made myself look like you!!!!” She giggled as she shows off everything from the texture to the paint job but when you touch what should be hard skin it squishes a bit.

“Sorry Foam latex was perfect for holding it all together… alright give me like twenty minutes while I take this off… hey tell me when we swing by your planet next I want to see if I can fit in.” She said taking off her backpack and pulling out another head of their kind. But there is a split it then bar of the head showing white material….

A mask?

She smiles so naturally with their face on her before walking off gushing about the research she will beable to do.

Or they are attacked and they find one of their humans face down blood pooled around them.

The Pirates snort better the human dead as their ship mates anguish their human. As the captain turns there is a blast. The captain goes down and their human is on their knees smirking gun in hand shirt covered in blood.

“Sorry we humans have nine lives.” They growl seriously. It is a secret power we don’t like to share.“ The pirates abandon quickly as all the humans on board turn their guns on them unfearful.

Once they are safe and the old captain is disposed off the bloody human pulled off the dirty clothes to show themselves unharmed.

"Thanks for the fake blood!”

“You faked your death???”

“I wanted them to get close.”

Idk practical effects man we can trick each other with makeup why not aliens

This is OCD.
This photo was taken 5 years ago and shows, roughly, how much hand sanitiser I would go through in a month. I’d average around 20 bottles, and depending on cost, would spend about £20 a month.
There is over a litre of sanitiser in this picture. 

When my OCD was at its worst, I couldn’t touch anything. I wouldn’t open a door without covering the handle with my sleeve, I wouldn’t borrow pens off friends in school, I would’t even touch my own tv remote. I also couldn’t touch people; I didn’t touch or cuddle my own mother for well over a year. Life was lonely, and extremely difficult.

As though it was yesterday, I remember a particular CBT session where my therapist told me she wanted me to stop using this stuff. This was one of the final stages to my treatment; most of my other compulsions were pretty well managed at the time, but my fear of germs was always the most prominent aspect of my OCD. My Mam was set next to me, and she was told not to buy any more and to take every last bottle that I had. Never before in my life had I been more petrified. I had such a heavy reliance on sanitising gel that I couldn’t picture my life without it. 

It was hard. I struggled. I cried. My Mam cried.
However, as I sit here today I’m proud to say that I haven’t touched a bottle of hand sanitiser in around four years.

To everyone out there struggling with OCD at the minute; things get better. I don’t believe I’ll ever fully recover, but I can manage myself much more easily. Yes, I still have my bad days where I wash my hands constantly, or I count, or I worry, or I tap things repeatedly until it ‘feels right’, but for the most part, I am free of the fear and the pain and the guilt that come with OCD. 

Don’t let anyone tell you that OCD isn’t a ‘real illness’, don’t let anyone abuse you by taking advantage of your obsessions/compulsions, and don’t for a second believe that things can’t improve. They can, and they will.

If I can go from using a litre of hand sanitiser every month to dropping an oreo on the kitchen floor but eating it anyway, then so can you.

Stay strong, and stay safe.

Imagination Land

I’ve been able to read minds since I was a child. It’s not really like how you see in the movies, though. It’s not like listening to the radio. It’s much more immersive. I experience everything as if I’m really there. It’s a thrilling experience when you read the right minds. The trouble is really with finding minds worth reading.

Frankly, reading adults is as fun as doing taxes. Kids’ minds, on the other hand, are amazing. They’re not bogged down with work and stress and dissatisfaction. The mind of a child is filled with imagination and adventure. That’s why I became a kindergarten teacher.

I sit at my desk and watch as my class colors. I smile as they doodle away with their crayons. I reach out and peek into their minds. In an instant, I take off with Carlos in a rocket ship, hurtling past swirling galaxies. I visit far-off planets full of blob-like aliens and two-headed martians. I smile and move on to Marcy. I can smell the candy canes and jelly beans as I’m pulled into a veritable candyland, complete with gumdrop castles and caramel waterfalls. She plays hopscotch with gingerbread men, giggling her musical little laugh.

I’m about to move on to Thomas when I feel a tug at my dress. I look down to see Sarah. She’s one of the most adorable little girls I’ve ever seen. Beautiful brown curls, big puppy dog eyes, and a gleaming smile.

“Miss Dupree, I made this for you!” she exclaims, handing me a paper. I take it from her and see myself in stick figure form. “I Luv Ms. Doopry” is scrawled across the top in multiple colors.

“I love it!” I exclaim and give her a great big hug.

Sarah’s only been with the class for a couple days and I have yet to have a peek at her hopes and dreams. I reach out and touch her mind. And I nearly vomit.

I choke as I’m hit with wave after wave of the hot, fetid stench of death. My mind’s eye is blinded by a darkness which seems almost alive, spilling into my brain, seeking to blot out everything it touches. In the void, I feel slimy coils roiling around me, wrapping around my legs, pressing against my face, a gigantic beast hungrily probing the darkness in search for food. And then a keening wail rises up, nearly bursting my eardrums. The screams of thousands of souls, crying out in sorrow. Crying out for death.

And then I’m back in the classroom. I let go of Sarah and compose myself, hoping she can’t see me shaking.

“That’s a lovely picture, Sarah,” I say, nearly whispering. “Now go along and get ready for snack time, alright?”

She nods happily and skips off. I watch her as she goes. The minds of children are the most wonderful thing in the universe. But whatever that thing in the blue dress is, it is no child.


Not only have I gained weight, I’ve gained 40+ pounds. I’m touching 260. This is the heaviest I’ve ever been. I haven’t been able to take a picture without having real negative shit to think or say about myself. Which is why I haven’t posted anything in a longgggg time. I haven’t been happy with my body in months since I started noticing the change in my body. Most of the girls on here have followed me because of my confidence that I show off in my posts. And I feel so bad because I’m telling them to love the body God gave them and I can’t even look at a full length mirror.. But you know what? I’m still fly as fuck. Even if I’m 10lbs lighter or 50lbs heavier I’m still sexy. Still kind and attractive and smart and important and genuine and a big motherfucking deal. So here I am, half clothed and loving myself.

Happy Big Girl Appreciation Day! Cuz we slay. ❤️


length: 1.6k

genre(s): angst+fluff

triggers/warnings: mentions of blood and very minor character injury

simon shows up to the flat with a black eye and a cut lip, refusing to talk about what happened, so a worried penelope asks baz to come over (or the one where simon’s insecure, and baz is terrible at comforting his dragon boyfriend)

a/n: @cherryonsimon is the greatest beta and y’all should go tell her nice things :D

for day three of @snowbaz-feda!!


The door to the flat swings open and Simon barrels his way inside. I gasp when I see him: his shirt is torn with flecks of red (Is that blood?) splattered around the neckline; his hair looks dirty and matted, like he’s been rolling around on the ground; and there’s a definite limp in his step. After slamming the door shut, he winces and grabs his wrist, and that’s when I notice his eye.

“Fuck a nine-toed troll, Simon! What happened to you?”

He won’t look at me and the expression on his face is one I haven’t seen in a long time. It frightens me a bit, but it’s still just as important to me that Simon knows I’m not afraid of him, so I take a step forward. He recoils and pushes past me towards his room, slamming the door once inside, making me flinch.

The sound reverberates through the living room before plunging the flat into absolute silence. It’s horrible.

After taking a moment to collect myself, I walk towards his room, hesitating a beat before knocking. “Simon?” No answer. I try again, knocking louder this time, but he still won’t answer. I try turning the knob, but it’s locked. Chewing on my lip, I consider spelling it open, but that would be breaking unspoken roommate rules, so I do the only thing I can think of right now.

I ring Baz.

* * *

I’m sitting in an evening lecture when my mobile starts to vibrate. It’s on the desk and the noise makes a few of my fellow students turn around and stare. I sneer at them (old habits), and look to see who’s calling.

It’s Bunce.

It’s not that we aren’t close enough to call each other, it’s just that we never do. The fact that she has, and especially during a time she knows I’m at school, makes my blood run cold. I’m so distracted with worry that I forget to move the desk over, and when I go to stand it pins me to the chair. Cursing loudly–and drawing even more curious eyes–I slam the damned piece of wood out of the way, and stalk out of the hall.

I manage to answer on the last ring.

“Baz?” Bunce’s voice sounds strange through the speaker, like she’s trying not to cry, “can you come over? Something’s happened with Simon.”

I drop the phone and it shatters on the pavement.

* * *

For the second time tonight, the door to the flat swings open. Only this time it’s Baz who practically falls through, righting himself at the last minute. He looks like he ran the entire distance between school and the flat. The screen of the mobile he’s clutching is shattered, something I don’t remember seeing before. Is that my fault?

“B–” I don’t even get a chance to say his full name when he marches towards me, our difference in height making itself known as he towers over me. (In reality it’s only several inches.) (It feels like miles.)

“Where is he?”

I point to Simon’s room and Baz nods. I wish I could tell him what happened, but I don’t exactly know myself. I just know I can’t fix this alone.


The smell of blood hit me as soon as I entered the flat and it only gets stronger the closer I get to the bedroom.

Snow’s door is locked, so I cast when one door closes. It works, and the one in front of me opens wide. I can’t see anything at first; Snow’s drawn the curtains shut and even turned out the light in the en suite, drowning the room in darkness. I use my mobile to guide me towards his bed and the red lump that I assume is my boyfriend.

“Snow?” I ask, biting my lip. Perhaps I should use his first name, given the situation, but I try and reserve that for when I really need it, like when we’re being soft. Or when I want him to know I’m afraid. “Snow?” I try again and the lump doesn’t move, but it does yelp when I poke it with the tip of my wand.

“Go away,” I hear him mumble, but I know he doesn’t mean it. (The door spell wouldn’t have worked if he hadn’t wanted to let me in.)

I square my shoulders. “No.” I need Snow to tell me what happened and I’ll stand here all night if I have to. This must occur to him, because he lifts his head.  

My breath catches when I see his black eye and bloody lip. I reach out to touch them, pulling my hand back at the last minute.

“What happened to you?”

He shrugs and I want to strangle him.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I snap.

“I got in a fight on my way home.”

“No shit.”

“There were 3 or 4 guys; I don’t remember. They wanted my wallet, but I’d forgotten it at work and they weren’t very happy about that.”

I try to stop myself from picturing the scene in my head. Snow on the ground, surrounded by these men, being hurt by these men. Snow. Defenseless. I can’t process it.

Although he hasn’t held that title in a long time, Snow will always be the chosen one to me; seeing him so broken and defeated over something like this is overwhelming. He’s supposed to be strong, he’s supposed to be brave, he’s supposed to save the world. He’s supposed to be able to save himself.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen Simon beaten and bloody, but it’s the worst time. It’s not that his injuries are severe (they really aren’t), it’s just that…

This wasn’t supposed to happen any more. We were supposed to disguise as regular Normals and live our happily ever after; nothing bad was supposed to touch us again.

Then he goes and gets himself mugged. It’s so horribly mundane, so insignificant next to every creature and task he’s taken on, yet this is the thing that breaks him. I’m furious on his behalf. I want to hurt the people who hurt him.

I swallow. “What happened next?”

“I tried–I tried to call–my sword…but–”

“It didn’t come.” I don’t even bother phrasing it as a question. I can’t believe this, “you were going to try fighting off a bunch of thugs with a sword? Are you daft?”

He looks miserable. “I was distracted by that long enough to give them a chance to jump me, and, well…” he rolls his hurt wrist and I catch it between my fingers, pulling my wand from my pocket with my other hand. He grits his teeth as I cast get well soon, listening for the crack that signifies it worked. I bring his now healed wrist to my lips and kiss it, feeling his pulse thumping under my lips.

Snow clenches his hand into a fist and I drop his arm, looking up at his face and hating what I see there. The healing spell had taken care of his eye and lip, but that lip is quivering now, and fat tears are beginning to rolls down his cheeks. He squeezes his eyes shut and starts gulping air, his arms wrapped around his knees and head bowed.

I want to reach out and touch him; make this better, make this go away, make him stop. I want to make him stop. He’s almost sobbing now and I don’t know what to do. I have to stop this.

“Shut up, Simon! Just shut up!”

His head snaps up and he looks at me as if I’ve slapped him. I almost feel like I have.

“What the fuck, Baz?” his breath catches on my name and I feel my heart sink just that much more.

I didn’t mean it. I want to apologize, but the words won’t come; they’re stuck in my throat and I clench my fists as I try to force them out. He’s still staring at me, his face etched in an angry frown, and I give up on speaking.

He watches me warily as I sit down on the bed and I flinch. The scent of blood is stronger now, and I can feel my fangs threatening to pop. I curse the fact that I haven’t fed recently and try to will them to stay put. The last thing I need to do is make the situation worse.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and he blinks at me. “I’m sorry,” I repeat and his face crumples as he falls forward. I let him bury his face into my chest, let him clutch at my shirt, let his tears soak the fabric. I let him cry until he can’t anymore. His breathing is even and quiet now; and I’m relieved.


Baz pulls me close, pressing a kiss against my temple: once, twice, three times. I can tell he thinks I’m asleep, because he’s murmuring things he’d never let me hear otherwise. He’s calling me Simon and telling me he loves me and how scared he was and how brave and stupid I am.

He starts scratching lightly at the spot between my wings, the one he knows I love, and I’m melting into the mattress.

He somehow manages to press himself even closer, his breathing tickling my ear as he whispers, “you’re so bloody stupid, you know that? I don’t need a Chosen One; I don’t need a fairy tale; I certainly don’t need some self-sacrificing superhuman with a hero complex. I just want you, Simon Snow.” He stops to kiss my shoulder.

“I just want you.” It’s a reassurance and a promise. And I believe it.

I want you too, I think back at him, I want you too.


SUMMARY - With Steve on a mission and Bucky in a meeting , you decide to have a little fun sexting. Things get dirty when Bucky comes back from the meeting . 

WARNINGS- daddy kink .SMUT , NSFW GIF , oral (MR , FR), phone sex 

WORDS - 3k+

A/N - This was completely Taw @supersoldierslover idea . Thank you so much . You know I love you .And I am so fucking happy that you liked it . If any warnings should be added pls send me an ask . I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable.

[ insert Steve and Bucky image , since my stupid wifi wasn’t uploading a pic]

Walking around the tower , eating biscuits , listening to music , talking to few of the agents , you spend the last hour waiting for Bucky to come back from the meeting .

2 WEEKS . Two weeks since Bucky and Steve were sent on different missions . Two weeks since you had seen either of them . Two weeks since you had touched yourself . Two weeks since you were properly fucked . Two weeks filled with burning desire to be filled , and to orgasm . But you still remember the last words uttered by your boyfriends before leaving for their mission .

“No touching . Okay baby doll . Behave and you will be rewarded .”

There was no way they’d know if you did pleasure yourself , but you wanted to behave . You knew if you refrained until the time they came , you’d cum harder than ever .

But now Bucky was back home in the tower , but you couldn’t do anything . The meeting was sure to last another hour . So you decided to have a little fun of yours .

You went back to the room , put on your sexy matching lingerie that you knew both of them liked .

It was pink in colour . They liked it because you looks sexy and innocent at the same time.

You stood in front of the mirror admiring the way it looked .Picking up the phone in your left hand , your right hand under your panties , you clicked a picture and send it to the group chat that you guys created for the three of you . A little teasing wouldn’t hurt .

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi 😊 can I please request 47, 52 & 71 with Yoongi? And make it really fluffy(?) Anyway I love your blog and thank you in advance ❤

Thank you!!~ 💖

47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.”

52. “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.”

71. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Min Yoongi (Suga) x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 657

Originally posted by sugasuite

 He could keep staring at you forever. The way you clung to him when you got scared. The way you were mesmerised by little things. The way you greeted him whenever he met you.  All those things and more. But the most important one was your smile. It was that kind of smile that washes all your worries away and shines as bright as the sun.

“Hello! Earth to Min Yoongi!” you waved your hand in front of his face. He was so lost in his thoughts that he completely missed the movie’s ending. “It’s your turn to choose.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and looked at the clock. “It’s already pretty late, won’t you fall asleep?”

“I won’t! I stayed up for so long, didn’t I?”

“You feel asleep two times while watching this one. Should I count how many times before this as well?”

“Okay, I stayed up for so long with breaks,” you laughed. “I will try my best now.”

You said that but fell asleep almost as soon as the next movie started.

“What’s with her,” Yoongi thought. “Sometimes she sleeps more than I do.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder but he decided that it will be more comfortable for you on his lap but that was a bad decision as he couldn’t concentrate on the movie at all.

“So cute,” he thought, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me,” he said out loud, using the opportunity that you’re asleep and he can finally get it off of his chest.

You blinked a few times and just stared at him in confusion. He averted his gaze to the TV screen.

“Oh shit,” he thought. “Did she hear me?”

You pulled him down by his sweater, so he would look at you.

“Yoongi, is that true?”

“Haha, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he laughed and focused back on the screen. You sat up but he still wouldn’t look at you, so you stood up in front of him, blocking the view.

“Yoongi…” you said, setting your arms on your waist.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly.

“Okay, you know what. Yes. I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death. There, I said it.”

“But only half to death,” you giggled when he pushed you onto the bed and got on top of you.

“I confess and you dare laugh at me, why you little!”

“Oho! Min Yoongi is scary when he’s angry. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tickle you to death,” this time you were actually scared because anything would be better except for tickling and he noticed that. He pinned your hands above your head. “Now I truly have the advantage,” he said running his fingers through your sides and then reaching for your feet.

“No, Yoongi please, anything but the feet,” you laughed.

“The feet it is then,” he was at it for good ten minutes and you laughed so much your jaw started to hurt and tears streamed down your face. You rolled away from him and let him lay down next to you.

“Remind me not to tick you off next time.”

“Will there be a next time?” he asked staring at the ceiling.

“What do you mean?”

“Won’t it be awkward?”

“Why would it be?” you questioned moving closer to him and taking his hand. “I never rejected you, you know.”

He looked at you surprised.

“Do you mean?”

“Yes,” you just said. He turned to face you fully and pulled you to him.

“You know. When I picture myself happy… It’s with you,” he admitted before kissing your forehead. His sweet touch making you feel all warm.

“What about the movie?” you asked.

“You were sleeping anyway, I don’t mind staying like this for a while.”

Offering Stones

Hello, there is a post on tumblr here that shows you how to make offering stones. They are beautiful! But additional reblogging of the post included mentions that baking soda is not safe for nature. So I tried to come up with a different type of offering stone that isn’t harmful. I attempted several experiments before I finally remembered making gingerbread ornaments as a kid that were not edible. The recipe I have for you is simple, completely environmentally safe and it will not mold over time.

Cinnamon Offering Stone Recipe:

¾ cup of applesauce

4 ounces of Cinnamon (about two jars from a grocery store)

Put the applesauce in a bowl and slowly mix in the cinnamon a little at a time. It will eventually start to thicken and ball up into a dough that you can form with your hands.

I added some herbs and flowers that I have dried myself just for an extra touch (although the cinnamon stones are a sufficient offering themselves) Pictured are thyme, rosemary, peppermint, roses, sage (leaf and flower).

Preheat your oven to 200° (fahrenheit) and bake them for 2 hours.

It’s up to you what size/shape you make them, so get creative! I made mine smaller (an inch to inch and a half) and made circular and heart shapes. I was able to get 33 cinnamon stones. (Added tip:  if you have a spot in your grocery store where you can buy “bulk” spices and measure your own, I suggest getting the cinnamon there. I was able to get 4 oz for about $3.15 which I know is cheaper than if I had purchased two jars of it.)

I am so glad these turned out this wonderfully! It really bummed me out when I found out the other recipe was no good. I wanted something that I could give back to nature if I take something (such as a rock or herb). You can leave these as a thank you or you can also offer these to a god or goddess.

The most important thing is that these are totally safe for the environment!

Stranger Things: The Byers and The Tramp

Jonathan Byers Imagine

Prompt: Imagine being popular and being Jonathan’s girlfriend

Warnings Adult Language Does not follow the plot of “Stranger Things”

Point of view: The Reader’s POV

I slammed my locker shut as I listened to Nancy rambled on about Steve.

“Nancy why don’t you just fuck him already” I smirked as I watched her blush madly, her tuck a piece of hair behind her before rolling her eyes.

“(Y/N) seriously” she groaned as she shoved my shoulder lightly “a relationship isn’t all about sex. It’s about the small things he does for you to tell you he loves you”

“Yeah like fucking you senselessly” I giggled as I pushed her slightly, she groaned softly before pushing me back

“So you and Jonathan must have sex a lot?” Nancy questioned as we moved down the hall, I shook my head softly

“No actually, he hasn’t laid a finger on me, a quick kiss is all I get” I commented as it was my turn to blush, of course I’ve had sex but it was quick lasted no more than 2 minutes. The douche always hypes himself up saying “he’s the biggest I’ve ever seen”, then it feels like nothing.

“Maybe he’s waiting for the perfect moment” Nancy giggled as she turned in front of me

“Maybe he’s a virgin” I stated rolling my eyes at her comment, she sighed softly before smiling brightly as her eyes were fixed behind me.

“Here comes the virgin Romeo now” Nancy giggled as I peered over shoulder noticing that Jonathan was moving down the hall. “Go Sluttie Juliet!”

“Nancy!” I gasped as I shoved her harshly, a laugh escaping her lips as she pushed me towards him.

He fiddled with his camera as he smiled at me

“Hey baby” I smiled as I tried kissing him but he moved his head down instead.

“Hey (N/N)” he shyly stated, I giggled softly before grabbing his face forcing him to look at me, I placed a soft kiss on his lips. His face redden as he watched me for a second “Um- I-I- we’ll see the thing is– my– mom wants to meet you”

“She does?” I questioned as he scratched the back of his neck, he nodded slowly

“But I understand if-”

“I’d love to meet her Johnny boy, and that adorable little brother of yours” I smiled

“Really? You wanna meet them?” He questioned as his face contorted in surprise

“Your my boyfriend, of course I wanna meet them” I smiled as I wrapped my hands around his neck, as I pressed my head against his, so he would look me in the eye.

“G-great. Um dinner is tonight at 7” he smiled, I bit my lips softly before nodding in agreement as I pulled back. He placed a quick kiss on my cheek for rushing off.


I had to admit I was nervous, I really did like Jonathan he was different than the other boyfriends I had. He was sweet, caring, and took my feelings into consideration.

I didn’t want to screw up meeting his mom and brother.

What if she hates me?

What if she thinks in a slut?

I groaned softly as I banged my head against the steering wheel. I pushed myself out of the car as I slowly walked up the steps to the house. A loud bark pierce the air causing me to squeal lightly. I rung the door bell a couple of times as the more barks filled the air.

A group of boys answered the door, the all watched me for a moment

“She is real” a dark skinned boy stated as he touched my stomach pulling back quickly.

“She’s very pretty” the other said but this one was missing his two front teeth, but that didn’t stop him from looking adorable.

“I’ve seen pictures of her before Johnny has them in his room” another stated, they watched me slowly, I offered a small smile in which they all returned.

“Who was at the door?” I heard Jonathan scream as he appeared at the front door. “Guys let her in”

The parted slowly as I stepped in, I giggled left my lips.

“Hey baby” I smiled as I started I kiss him but was cut off by gasping.

“She called him “baby” meaning that they are dating” the toothless boy commented as he walked in between us. I glanced at Johnny as a blush fell on his face

I bent down as I watched the boy, I kissed his cheek before offering my hand.

“I’m (Y/N)” I smiled, he grabbed his cheek before looking at the other boys. He backed away slowly as he gave me a toothless smile. “I think I broke him”

“She’s pretty and funny too” the dark skinned boy commented as he examined for further

“Who was at the door?” A female calls, I stood up quickly spinning around as I saw his mother. “Oh wow!”

She smiles brightly as she looked at me

“You are absolutely beautiful” she commented as she gave me a quick hug “I see you meet the boys”

“Yes, they are very observant” I smiled, she nodded quickly as she looked back at the boys.

“Well come on boys” she clapped as she ushered them into the room. “Clean up this game you have going on”

“I’m Dustin!” The toothless boy called out as he gave me a smile, I smiled back at him.

“She is right you look beautiful” I heard Johnny say, I turned around facing him.

“Thanks, you don’t look half bad yourself” I giggle as I wrapped arms around him.

“We have an audience” he spoke as he flicked his head towards the opening, I peered over my shoulder seeing the boys watching us.

“She just can’t be real” Will commented “I mean, my brother dating her”

“Come on Johnny boy, I’m starving and I think your brother and his friends have a whole bunch of questions for me” I giggled


“How did you meet my brother?” Will questioned

“In Photography class” I smiled as I remembered the memory so fondly. “He was nerdy boy who always had a camera”

Johnny laughed softly before pushing my shoulder lightly as he blushed softly

“Let me get this straight” Lucas stated “You’re dating Byers”

I laughed loudly as I studied his expression, As I nodded slowly to his statement.


After endless questions about me and adorable baby pictures of Jonathan, dinner was finally over.

I peeled off my jacket as I threw on a chair in his room. I peered over my shoulder as I still heard him talking to his mom downstairs. I grabbed the photos that laid on top of his radio.

They were of me, dozens. Pictures that I didn’t know he took. Pictures of me smiling, pictures of me making faces, pictures of me sleeping in class, pictures of me in his room.

How did I not see him taking all these pictures of me.

“You weren’t suppose to see that” I heard his voice behind me, I blushed softly before placing them back down.

“But I did” I spoke softly wondering how many more he has taken “w-when did you take all those”

“I-I- whenever, moments with you were just to precious to just keep as memories, I needed prove a reminder to know that you are real. That someone like you is dating me" he spoke, I smiled softly. “Are you mad?”

I spun around quickly as I watched him for a moment.

“How can I be when you say stuff like that?” I spoke “That was the sweetest thing that anyone has ever said to me”

He blushed softly as he looked down. I walked over to him, he looked up at me for a moment, without any thought or second of regret. I crash my lips to his, my hands running through his hair.

This moment I knew that I was in love with him. He was a shy, socially awkward boy but he was perfect for me.

“I love you” I whispered against his lips, the words so foreign to me as I spoke them

“I love you too” he smiled as he picked me up, tossing me on the bed. I giggled softly as I pulled him down with me. “I’ve always loved you”

A Hundred Lesser Faces: (Six)

Notes from Mod Bonnie

  • This story stems from the premise: what if Voyager!Claire had gone first to Lallybroch instead of directly to the print shop in Edinburgh?

Craigh Na Dun

I brought a heart into the room

     but from the room I carried none with me.

No, I chided silently, staring around the pitiful shack, blank. I had left with a heart: I’d left with Bree, the love of my second life, and that little heart had kept me tethered to life until I’d found myself again.

….but the heart with which I’d entered? That was no more.  

They were still here, watching me from the damp, dark corners of the cottage: the fragments. I could feel them. Aching. 

Yes, this is where you left us. You made it out, but we remained. Here we shall remain, now that…


My body was a no-man’s land. On the one side, grief: staggering in detail…unending…ripping me to shreds with every breath; on the other, utter nothingness: numbed oblivion…the absence of anything human. One force would rise up to charge, emboldened, and then be summarily routed, annihilated. The process would reverse and repeat over and over, leaving nothing but a throbbing, bleeding stalemate between. Mutually-Assured Destruction. 

I closed my eyes and swayed, my arms limp at my sides, a finger searching for the mark at the base of my thumb.

‘I want to take away your touch with me.’ 

A past me had said that, here within these walls.

 ‘…to have something of you that will stay with me always.’


Only, nothing was ‘always.’ Not even that. 

True, I could see it, still, the faintest of white lines forming the letter J; but any palpable scar had vanished into the smooth landscape of the skin. 

Strange: I had never once allowed myself to acknowledge that fact. Doing so now—It plunged me into a cold, chill darkness, where only my terror was heard. Over the years, as I felt it fade, and fade, and fade, I had let myself cling to the fantasy of ‘always’; had permitted myself to never actually touch the spot, nor look at it—only to tell myself it was there, to cling to the safety and comfort of this one, tiny delusion. Yet, the cruel reality was that Jamie’s last touch was now no more than a photograph: a single moment in time, captured in the record, visible, but with no dimension. An image. A hint at a memory. 

Jesus H, Christ, but it’s the *memory* that matters, Beauchamp, so stop being foolish. You’re a physician, damn you: you should know better than anyone that scars are *supposed* to heal. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the memory. 

Yes, the body, so perfectly adapted to regenerate and prolong us, will do everything in its power to erase the imperfections life inflicts upon it. The platelets will descend; the threads of fibrin will lash and bind; the white blood cells will attack infection at the breach, keeping the small hurt from becoming fatal. It is how we—physically, fundamentallygo on. 

The body cannot comprehend that its healing power, that very erasure, is a wound in and of itself; that our hurts and imperfections might be nothing less than our deepest desire; that even pain—

‘…I don’t care if it hurts; nothing could hurt more than leaving you.’

“Wrong again, Beauchamp,” I whispered, my voice catching. This could hurt more. Leaving him again, half our lives gone; facing the remaining half alone….and that, after rising from loneliness up to a great peak of hope—only to—

But you know he’s alive, this time, Beauchamp. You know he’s happy! You know he’s going to live to be an old man, perhaps to see his grandchildren. For Pete’s sake, you maudlin creature, surely you can agree that that fact makes this day far better than the eve of Culloden. 

Yes. Better.

….but I didn’t expect to endure anything of the like again. 

But now you *shall* endure it, Beauchamp. Now, you move on. 

‘Move on?’ How?…. I can’t even move from this spot.

I blinked hard up at the ceiling, fists and teeth clenched, tears falling. “Damn you, Jamie, how did you bloody do this?”

He’d been so brave—so fucking brave in those final hours under this roof. He’d known that he must send me away, must do so because it was the best chance for me, for our child. He’d touched me; roused me; smiled for me; reassured me; joked and laughed, even, as best he could. He had been strong and HIMSELF, to the end. 

And here I was — twenty-odd years later, leaving by the very same route for his sake, for his chance for a good and happy existence, just as genuinely assured in my conviction as he—falling apart.

How had he remained in one piece? How the bloody hell had he managed to say goodbye without even shedding a tear, damn him

‘I would sleep once more this way—holding you, holding the babe.’

Because he had known for a fact that he would die the next morning. He wouldn’t have to live with that emptiness, with a broken heart, or so he had supposed; and so he’d kept his tears at bay because he knew I would. I had to go on, and so he’d rallied for my sake, presented himself to me as a man calm and at peace, so as not to make my task—my grief, the reality that I would have to be the one to walk away forever—any more excruciating than it already was.

So brave. Strong.  

I would do the same for you, Jamie, if it fell to me. I hope I could be strong for you. 

But if there were any grace that had been granted to me, in this final, broken chapter of our story, it was that I was spared having to look my love in the eye as I gave him up to a better life;

that I, at least, could let my tears fall freely. 

A sudden draft stirred my flimsy skirt, bringing me sharply to awareness. I shivered against the frigid air, mindful through my disorientation of how sharply my knees ached. The light outside had shifted since I entered the cottage. The sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon, leaving only the dim grey-pink of November twilight. 

Time, Beauchamp. Walk out the door. Only a quick walk up the hill, and it’s over. No sense in prolonging it any further. 

It was time; and I found myself moving with purpose, though not toward the door.

There, at the back wall, in that opening where the boards had long since fallen away, I stood, silent and still. Snowflakes—scattered, sporadic— brushed my cheeks, but I paid them no heed.

The very last place I’d seen him; felt his touch; felt him within me.

The damp, rotten wood felt so soft and smooth under my bare palm. Warm. Living. 

‘Name him Brian…for my father.’ 

“Come find me, will you?” I whispered to the wind, forcing a smile. “When we’re both gone into what comes after, c—” 

My throat closed. 

I pictured seeing the outline of a tall, etherial figure, in that after-place…and seeing his arm circle around the waist of a small woman; the both of them stretching their arms out toward two little girls, running to them. 

Would he even see me? 

And yet…

‘I will find you….

I promise.’ 

“I shall hold you to it, Jamie Fraser.” I rubbed my thumb once over the plank.  “Til then, my love.

It was a much more strenuous climb than I remembered. The icy, twilight air stung my lungs as I gulped it down, the burning in my muscles only heightening the sensations of grief, of panic, of regret, and loss. I wanted to let myself fall, there on the slope, and weep, just sleep until I vanished into nothing. 

But the thought of Bree’s face kept me going up that hill, step after aching step.

You’ll see her, soon. 

Only a hundred yards more.

You’d prepared yourself to never see her again, and now you’ll have years and years

Fifty to go.

Just think of the surprise on her face.


Think of how relieved she’ll—

“C L A I R E !”

My heart stopped.

I swear, it actually


I Don’t Forgive You | Part One

Current Part | Next Part

Pairing: Reader x Namjoon

Word Count: 1.5k+

Genre: Angst

  → Synopis: After years of being together, a lie is uncovered that could potentially ruin your relationship with Namjoon forever.

There’s something that clings onto you whenever you love someone. It’s a four letter word called hope. It sticks to you like gum against your favorite jeans when you unintentionally touch it from underneath a desk. No matter how hard you try to get it rid of it, it doesn’t come off. Hope doesn’t leave. But there comes a time when you just take a step back and let it be. There’s nothing more you can do to take it off.

        I guess that was where the first problem came to be. We tried so hard to ignore the clear issue at hand like it was no problem, and it slowly became to eat away at us … well at me. Then there were the the constant rumors of him being with other girls. I’d get insecure and barely speak to him, he’d get mad and start arguing. It was a cycle that we’d sadly gotten too familiar with and there wasn’t a way to fix it except exchange ‘I’m sorries’ and pretend like it never happened. But they did happen, and they did hurt me.

I continued to have that feeling at the very bottom of my gut though, that nasty thought that he could possibly be … unfaithful. But I always pushed it aside thinking it was me being unreasonable. Namjoon was a hardworking guy with a stressful job that barely left him with time for his own. So whenever he came home, I never wanted to make a big fuss about how lonely I was feeling lately, or how I wanted to do something, anything since we hadn’t had any time together. I never thought he had the time to do such a thing since he barely even had time to be with me.

Then a picture arose.

It was probably one of the most cliche and careless ways of uncovering such a way of betrayal which was one of the reasons why I found myself denying it.

He isn’t like that. He would never do something like that especially after all this time and effort we put to be together.

Over and over I tried to convince herself the same things. I thought the way that the girl’s arms were wrapped around his neck while his were around her waist as their faces were centimeters from touching was a sick joke or maybe one of the edits that fans loved to make so much. I didn’t want to believe the wanting look Namjoon shared with the girl, the interest and possible love he had for someone that wasn’t me.

He promised me he wouldn’t. He told me he loved me too much to hurt me like that.

Does he?

It was only a matter of time before the truth finally surfaced. It was always there really, but I was always in denial mainly for my own sake.

Ten o’clock hit, and I was finally snuggled into the warm sheets that Namjoon and I once shared. He usually called or would FaceTime just so we could exchange our “I love you’s” and good nights before going to sleep, and in this case it was my turn. It was something we had grown accustomed to far before we had gotten into something serious. Yet the irritation grew within me as time passed, and he didn’t call. I was trying to be as understanding as possible, but lately he was sending short-answered text messages. Sometimes he wouldn’t even reply at all until hours later where he would apologize with an excuse that only made me roll my eyes from how ridiculous it sounded at this point.

I wasn’t asking for a lot. I didn’t blow up his phone or make a big deal out of things because I both didn’t want to become that clingy, obnoxious girlfriend that suffocated her boyfriend, and I definitely didn’t want to bother him while he was working.

Babe I’m literally about to fall asleep 😩  we haven’t talked all day and I just want to say a quick goodnight

I waited ten agonizingly slow minutes waiting for a response, but there was none. Although he had read the message which only fueled my anger and irritation. In no time, I quickly clicked onto FaceTime icon and waited for him to answer. It was half past midnight here in Seoul meaning that it was somewhere past noon where he was considering the fact that he was in New York where we shared a thirteen hour time difference.

“Finally.” I muttered to herself as he finally answered. “Namjoon why haven’t you-”

“Is there any reason that you’re calling my boyfriend?” A voice that was definitely not Namjoon’s asked rudely.

Did I just hear those words correctly? Did she just call my boyfriend hers while she’s naked under a sheet in his room and on his phone?

I couldn’t even talk as I tried to take in what had just happened. Had he really … what?

My phone blew up after that with messages and calls all from him. He wanted to explain what occurred only moments ago, but was there really an explanation for that? And she called him her boyfriend.

Oh God, this wasn’t some one time hookup.

I felt sick to my stomach, and my nerves turned into knots. My feet sprung into action and bolted towards the bathroom emptying all contents from my stomach.

He was talking to her for weeks, months maybe. Had he been talking to her the same amount time he was with me?

Three years; three years we spent together and for what? For it to just end like this? I gave him my everything. I told him every secret I had and opened up to him like I’ve never had with anyone else. He was my best friend, my other half. He was there for me when I moved here and didn’t so much as understand the language here.

The familiar rings from calls and messages echoed throughout the room as it sat vibrating beside me. By now, the rest of the boys joined along with Namjoon to spam it. Had they known about what Namjoon was doing?

There was no doubt that they had. They weren’t just band mates but practically brothers who told each other everything.

“Hey are you-”

“Is it true?” I asked my voice breaking as I spoke. I hadn’t even realized I accepted the call, but at this point I didn’t care. “Is Namjoon …”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and quite frankly I didn’t know how to handle it.

“I don’t think I should be the one answering that y/n.” Yoongi responded, but that answer was more than enough to confirm it all.

There were muffled voices in the background, and that’s when I heard him, Namjoon.

“Let me talk to her.”

“I don’t think that’s the greatest idea right now.”

“I need to talk to her Yoongi! She’s my girlfriend-”

It hurt too much to think about him let alone hear him. Nothing could justify his actions for him doing what he did, and I don’t think I could ever forgive him for it.

Please just talk to me

Just let me know you’re safe

I can’t lose you y/n

I’m sorry

The messages went on and on from him, but not once did I respond. And then I heard the front door open, and I just knew it was him. With every step that he took, my chest tightened, and it grew harder to breathe. My vision blurred with tears that I didn’t even bother to hold back anymore, and my lips quivered as I tried to hold back the sobs.

“Y/n . .” He trailed off as he stopped in his tracks once he entered the room. My attention was towards my fumbling hands as tears fell onto them. I couldn’t meet his eyes. It would break my already broken heart even more if I had.

“Why did you do this me?” I breathed out as I hiccuped a breath. And just like that, all my insecurities began to unravel. “Was I not good enough? Did I not make you happy?”

“What? No, no, no.” He breathed out as cupped my face in his hands. “It wasn’t - I don’t why I … I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

A whimper left my lips, and I hated how pathetic and weak I sounded. But I was too hurt to feel anything else.

“I don’t forgive you.” I responded as I finally brought myself to look at him and pulled his hands away from my face. Tears welled his eyes as he shook his head. His breathing grew heavy and quickened a bit at the words that had just left my lips.

“Baby please, just don’t leave. We can fix this. I know we can.”

“I can’t trust you Namjoon.” I told him as I wiped my tears. “And trust is basically what makes up a relationship, so if I can’t trust you.”

“No y/n.” He shook his head, refusing to let me finish my sentence. “No.”

“Then we can’t be together.”