my house is old as dirt

Energy Cleansing!

Originally posted by jeunetrentenaire

Energy Cleansing Through Cleaning!

Have you been feeling down? Too tired to get up and do things. Or that no matter how much normal witch-y cleansing you do, there is always something going on? Well, from my experiences, running around with a broom or vacuum smacking those dirt away really helps!

Here are some ways I clean up the energies in my house. If you have any additions add them on! I’d love to hear them and I’m sure others would love it too!

Vacuuming - Oh the smell of a room after it’s been vacuumed. Cleaner but also a little empty. Vacuuming is a good “lets whip the slate clean of everything”. It sucks up the energies in your home leaving it clean and blank.  After a good vacuuming is a perfect time to do some home blessings and protections!

Sweeping - Banishing! Now go go go, the broom shrieks as you brush away dirt and old leaves. Sweeping is a perfect way to banish energies. Not suck them up and get ride of them. Oh no, banish them. Forcibly remove them from your place cuz those nastiest aren’t allowed to stay around. You can also put charms on the broom so it lays down goodness as it banishes the not so good stuff.

Window Cleaning - Opening the mind to inspiration and clear thinking. Whipping away the muck from the windows allows the home to be charged and energy flow in smoothly. It also can bring in more inspiration and clearer intuition. 

Cleaning The dishes - Time to help harmony move around. Spreading love and charm with eat spoon, plate, and bowls. Allowing fulfillment of the stomach and the soul! Wipe away the muck of the day, and bring in time to for better days!

That’s all I can think of right now. But all of these simple things are great ways to move away from the past and start a fresh slate. After or while you clean is a perfect time to light some warm comfy smells. Good luck with you happy cleansing!

Meeting of the MCs

HSS MC: I’ve made great friends on my first day of High School. I also showed some bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution

Sophomore MC: I’ve made great friends on my first day of college. I also showed some bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution. And I wrote a book.

LoveHacks MC: I’ve made great friends on my first day in a new city. I also showed some bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution. And I started my own company.

RoE MC: I’ve made great friends on my first day on a cruise ! I also showed some bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution. Also my grandma forced me to marry a man I just met for money.

TRR MC: I’ve made great friends on my first day in a small foreign monarchy! I also made dangerous enemies and got threatened and my good name was dragged through the dirt. All because the prince wanted to propose to me….. but I’ll show those bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution ….oh and maybe the old king is secretly a murderer but that’s not out ye…..

THoBM MC: I’ve made great friends on my first day in a haunted house. They’re ghosts. Also I was attacked by my brothers ghost and the burning ghost mother of my not burning ghost girlfriend . But I showed those bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution.

Hero MC : I’ve made great friends on my first day as a superhero. I also showed some villains that treating others badly isn’t a solution and one of my LI almost died! Also there’s a supervillain who’s plotting something but I don’t even know he’s a villain yet.

Everyone: And what about you, Taylor?

ES MC: Well….. I’ve made some great friends on my first day on a tropical island….

Everyone: aww, that’s nice!

ES MC: …. just to find out that they’ve already died over and over again. 2139 times to be exact. And each time I saw them die and couldn’t do anything, even though I’m a practically immortal being who will still exist when there’s nothing left of the universe anymore. I exist out of time and used my time traveling abilities to create a whole religion with me as it’s god. I waged a civil war. I collected my dead friends blood to forge idols out of it that should guide them. I found myself. Literally. I’ve been killed countless times and resurrected always. I fought a high tech killer commando, a giant sea monster from ancient mythology and faced unimaginable dangers. I’m up against a real supervillain, who sank the world into the apocalypse. I’ve seen the whole world burn.

Everyone: What the heck…?!

ES MC: …and I showed some bullies that treating others badly isn’t a solution?


I was thinking about it earlier and, yes, latine cultures are unique, diverse and all that. Heck, I live in Brazil, and I can guarantee you, each state has it’s own culture, customs, traditions, folklore and all that. We can’t even agree as a nation what’s the word for cookie!

(é biscoito)

So like, of course you can’t expect every country to have the same culture and dishes and music and all that, when not even a single country have that. 

But, by following other latines, and talking to people from the neighbor countries over my life, I learned that there are a few things that can be considered Universal Latine Experiences. Among them

🌺 The thing with rice and beans. Like, no country will ever have them the same way, of course. But it’s… Overall, so present. Some will lean more to the rice, some to the beans, but it’s there, wherever you go

🌺 Seeing posts from gringos on your dash complaining about winter where it’s summer where you live, and it’s so bad, your flip flops actually started melting when you went out to buy something cold to drink

(alternatively, seeing posts from gringos on your dash complaining about summer and giving out tips on how to control the heat when you are freezing on your couch and wrapped in three blankets)

🌺  The overall feeling of companionship? Like, I won’t like, I know it’s not perfect. There is a huge problem with xenophobia (I would say Brazil is the worst on this matter, but then again, it’s easier for me to see it here since I live here), and there is some bloody history between some countries. But the companionship is still there, you know?? We call each other hermanos, we receive each other in out country with open arms, we share our culture… I don’t know, there is some beauty to it. Or maybe this is all in my head because I’m feeling specially gushy today

🌺 Going to your grandmother’s house almost every sunday for lunch. Greeting your uncles and aunties, and asking blessings from your grandparents (even when you aren’t catholic anymore, but at this point, it is more a sign of respect and affection rather then religion) before going to play with your cousins in the backyard, while your parents play cards with their siblings or help your grandmother with the kitchen. 

When you notice it, it’s already midnight, and they are still playing cards. Come on, pai, we need to go home, I have class tomorrow. Just one more round, flor. But your said that three rounds ago!  

🌺 Having your natives being wiped out to near extinction my foreigner invasors, if not complete, and then having your fauna and flora destroyed, being forcefully brought to a distant land as slaves, and then when you finally say enough for both the invasors and slavery and call your land as yours, usa comes and fund a dictatorship in your country to which your people is still trying to recover from 

🌺  Little statues of saints and the Virgem Maria and portraits of Jesus and crosses and candles all over your elder’s house. Old houses with old paint on the walls, an old radio playing music in the kitchen, a road of battered down bricks and dirt, and your great grandmother is there, smoking a cigarillo de paja on the steps that lead to her house, keeping an eye on you as you play with your cousins and the neighbor kids you met that day, but it already feels like an eternity

🌺 El Chavo Del Ocho

🌺  Reclaiming your own culture after years of cultural imperialism saying that it’s not a good culture. Falling in love again with something that you were coerced to fall out of love with as you grew up. Learning again how to love the local legends, when you were thought that they were no good, and that the ones from europe and usa are betters. Learning again how to love your traditional music, dances, culture when you were thought that those were no good, that the ones from europe and usa are better. Learning your history in dept, seeing how complex and rich it is, after years hearing that it’s boring, not as interesting as those from usa and europe. Just… Falling in love with your roots again, and getting excited every time you see something from your country making success out there, and then also getting excited when something from you neighbors make success out there and yes! We deserve this! We deserve to have our history told and shared and appreciated too!

🌺  These assholes, somehow


Dawn is my little sister. When I was 11 and she was just a tiny baby, I hurt her really badly. I didn’t know what I did was going to cause so much trouble. I just wanted to do something nice. Something that would make us happy.

My parents made me go away for a long time. I didn’t understand why everyone was so angry. I missed my sister terribly. Even worse, I felt betrayed by the people I’d expected to understand me.

After six years of hospitalization, I got to see her again. My parents had passed away in a car accident while I was gone and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. Both were psychologists. Both understood the problem I apparently had. Still, they believed I’d learned to cope with it over the course of my rehabilitation. And they were right. I would never hurt anyone again. The mere thought of it was abhorrent.

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The Fairy King

I am not a man who believes in the supernatural. I work a 9-5 in a 30th floor office suite, surrounded by familiar, reliable representations of human ingenuity–steel and glass and wall-to- wall carpeting. I deal in managing the personal holdings of those more successful than me, and am occasionally tossed a small raise by my disinterested boss. When the setting sun begins to bleed through my vertical shades, I ride the hermetically sealed elevator down to the parking garage, climb into my 2010 Honda Civic, and traverse the 25 miles to my two-story house in the suburbs. For the past thirty years, my life has taken a predictable and comfortably tedious trajectory. Strange dreams, always half-forgotten by morning, sometimes trouble my nights, but who among us doesn’t have nightmares?

My wife Elizabeth was supposed to drive Jenny to summer camp, but something at her work came up last minute, and so I found myself heading northwest on I-89. It was a Sunday and there were few other vehicles on the road. Though it was almost noon and the sun was high overhead, the trees and underbrush by the sides of the highway blocked out most of the sunlight, creating a solemn, almost foreboding atmosphere. My step-daughter, nose buried in a book as usual, wasn’t a natural conversationalist, and after a few attempts to engage her, I gave up and allowed myself to be lulled by the relentless chorus of the cicadas.

I hadn’t been in this part of the state since my early childhood, when my parents had rented a small weekend house deep in the Vermont woods. It isn’t as though I actively avoided returning to The Kingdom–I was simply a middle-aged, middle-class American whose solitary childhood imaginings belonged to the distant past, to the realm of make-believe, of half-remembered nightmares. And yet…

There it was, the familiar dirt road winding into the forest, and then almost unconsciously I was slowing down, pulling off to the side of the road to a conveniently-located rest stop. Jenny looked up from her book and regarded me with some trepidation.

“It’s all right,” I reassured her. “We have plenty of time. I just want to show you the place where I used to spend my summers, when I was around your age.”

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I hope in the future my mind is implanted into a supercomputer and I’m used to play minecraft on ultra settings by a 12 year old who only builds dirt houses

A New Livelihood (Werewolf! Jimin x Werewolf! Reader) Chapter 2

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

I would like to thank everyone for the love you all showed for the first part of this story. It motivated me to work through my writer’s block and get the second chapter of this story posted. Without further adue:

Pairing: Reader x Jimin

Genre: Fluff, Angst (Smut definitely in next chapter)

Rating: PG - PG13 (for this chapter)

Characters: Aera (Reader), BTS, and Jung (Reader’s brother)

Word Count:6,061

Summary:  Aera (or really Y/N) belongs to a pack of more traditional werewolf values led by her brother, Jung (or really Y/B/N). The very brother that murdered their parents in cold blood solely for the purpose of ascending to the position of Alpha. With her tyrant brother in control, Aera (or Y/N) is forced into a mating ritual with a rival pack in order to cement their alliance with her own pack. Things take a turn for confusing when this forced ceremony turns out to be far from forced. Aera (Y/N) must learn to adapt to an entirely different lifestyle, one that stands in drastic contrast from her own, while simultaneously navigating the confusing and passionate nature that is the mating bond.

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You Get A Dog


It had been pretty rough the past few months and Fillip was constantly going on runs. Usually you wouldn’t mind but recently you had started to get lonely and it didn’t go un-noticed by Fillip. He saw the look in your eyes when he told you that he would have to leave again, you would put on a smile but it wouldn’t reach your eyes, it pained him to see you like this so he decided to do something about it.

“Darlin, do you know where the car keys are?” Fillip asked coming out of the garage, where he had been hiding away for most of the day. You where busy typing a document up for work, you where a lawyer and mostly worked with the club and this particular document concerned Juice.

“They should be hanging up in the garage, next to all the boxes babe” You answer without looking away from the screen hoping that he would leave you alone to finish what you had started almost two hours ago.

“I looked they’re not there” You sigh while shaking your head

“I don’t know where they are Fillip, its your car not mine” You sigh yet again when you hear him scoff, finally turning to meet the eyes of your old man. He stood leaning against the door connecting the garage to the kitchen, his leather vest hugged his body tightly from the way he had his arms crossed.

“Yer always using ma motor and yer the last one to use it so help me look. I need to get to the TM, my bike is actin up” He states before simply turning and walking back into the garage. You throw your head back and groan loudly, your annoyance only growing when you hear him laughing in the next room. Making sure to save your work you then proceed to shuffle into the garage entrance ready to give your man some cheek when you see it. The little bundle of adorable fluff chasing a ball around the garage floor.

“Oh my god” I laugh running over to the puppy who, upon seeing you runs over attacking your face with its tongue

“I’m going on another run in the next few weeks and I knew that I couldn’t leave ye all alone again so I though its either get ye pregnant-” you cut him off

“Yea no thank you, not yet” You say and he nods in agreement

“-So a puppy is like training for a baby, d'you like him love?” Chibs asked crouching down to pet the dog which in return licks his hand

“yes very much, thank you.” You smile turning to face him and planting a slow thankfull kiss on his lips “Love you”

“Love ye too darlin but we better get movin cause Tiggy’s dying ta see this dug”

Originally posted by heartsnmagic


“Come on Alex lets go babe, I want to get to the cabin before it gets any later” I shout out of the passengers side of the car window towards the open door of the house. A few seconds later Tig comes running out and is almost at the car when he remembers that he needs to lock the door, I shake my head a familiar smile on my face as I watch him lock the door before jogging back over to the car.

“Sorry baby, couldn’t find the keys” He smiles starting up the car and pulling out of our driveway.

“ I can’t wait to get to the cabin for a few days” You sigh contently. The cabin was your happy place and Tig knew that, so whenever he could get a day or two off, that’s where he would take you.

“Yeah I’ve got it all planed out baby doll, make some dinner, have some desert then we’ll head to the bedroom for some fun loving” I laugh as he says this watching out the window as we exit Charming

“Looks like you’ve got it all planned out baby” I say smiling lovingly at him before returning my gaze to the window

“Oh yea I’ve been-”

“STOP THE CAR!” The car comes to a screeching halt as Alex looks as me like I’ve gone insane, which maybe I have.

“What the fuck Y/N?” I don’t answer him as I throw open the passengers side door and run over to the side of the road, Tig not far behind me.

“I saw a dog..” I mutter looking around the bushes for the small dog that I had seen walking into the forest area.

“It was probably a rabbit or something babe, their aren’t any houses up here except for the cabin. I don’t think that a dog would be-” I am quick to stop him as I spot the dog in the bushes

“Oh really is that why the dog is rolling around in the dirt Tiggy?” He raises an eyebrow before looking past me his face melting as he sees the little dog no older than about 6 months old. Alex drops to his knees and the dog immediately seeks his comfort and the look on Tig’s face makes my heart melt.

“Hey little guy, where did you come from huh bubby?” Tig asks while picking the little bundle up and brining him over to me, he pulls his attention away from the dog and locks his sky blue eyes with mine “I think we should take him up to the cabin with us” Tig says with a look of concern in his eyes and I give him a soft smile, moving forward to move his hair away from his eyes

“Yea I think we should, I mean we can’t leave him out here” Tig nodded in agreement as we made our way back to the car. I grab a blanket that we keep in the trunk to wrap around the small dog while we drive the rest of the way up to the cabin.

The rest of the night was spent giving the dog a bath and something to eat, I had no doubt in my mind that we where going to fall in love with the little guy. I watched from the couch as Alex played with the dog on the ground, it was jumping up on him and trying to grab Alex’s black curls with his sharp teeth making me laugh as Tiggy tried to get away laughing loudly as he does so. “I love him” I say and Tig gives me a look at say that he thought the same “We need to keep him Alex, I mean we’ve been talking about getting a dog for so long and this one is perfect babe” I say joining Tig on the floor the puppy immediately coming over to greet me. I watch Tig face as he has what looks like an internal debate with himself but when the smile formed on his lips I knew that he wanted the dog just as much as I did.

“THANK YOU!” I shout throwing myself on top of Tiggy and placing a kiss on his lips and placing my self on his lap.

“No problem Doll” He mumbles against my lips a smile on his face but we are quickly separated as our new dog jumps up and starts licking my face “Okay that has to stop”

Originally posted by heartsnmagic


“OH MY GOD” I shout as I fall back onto the bed groaning loudly afterwards. I hear something fall from down stairs and someone sprinting up the stairs the next thing I know Juan is in the door way of our bedroom, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as he looks round the room frantically.

“What happened! Are you okay?” He askes while walking over and looking over my body checking over for any harm.

“I’m okay Juan” I laugh as his reaction giving him a reassuring smile “I just saw this puppy on the adoption website, I mean look at his little face!” I shove the laptop in his face, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the brightness. He takes the laptop out of my hands and takes the seat next to me on the bed before beginning to scroll through the website.

“You wanna tell me why you’re looking through a dog adoption site?” He asks while not taking his yes off of the screen.

“I always do it, I love dogs” I say shrugging “it’s no big deal I’m just looking I mean I know that you would never get one because of the mess and-” I’m cut of by Juice suddenly looking up.

“You want a dog?” Your caught off guard by the question but you simply nod your head.

“A dog would be nice…but babe you hate mess and a puppy is very messy-”

“If you want a dog then you can have a dog no ifs not buts, come we are going so the shelter” And that’s what you did. He drove you down and let you pick whatever one you wanted and took them home. It took a while and some adjusting to your lives but the little guys finally fit into your lives and Juice didn’t hate him as much as you though he would

Originally posted by glassbonespaperskin


I hummed quietly and softly to myself as I worked on the dinner for tonight. I hadn’t seen Happy a lot this week so you thought that this would be a good opportunity to catch up with one another and have a romantic night in together. However this was interrupted when you heard noises coming from outside your front door. A confused look over comes your face as you stare at the front door where the whining sound was coming from. Making your way towards the door the noice gets louder and louder and when you open the door you are shocked as to what you find. Sitting in a basket in front of your door step was a little puppy playing with the blankets in its blanket.

“Aww baby, what are you doing out here in the cold?” You question and at the sound of your voice the little dogs head snaps up and if immediately tries to escape the blanket in an apparent to get to you. You smile at the dog as you make your way forward and pick up the blanket and once you have the puppy wastes no time in attacking your face with kisses making you laugh loudly. You don’t hesate to take the dog inside and place him by your feet in the kitchen as you worked after having given him a plate of meat. Around half an hour later you hear Happy’s bike pulling up out side but do not move from your position. As Happy walking into the kitchen expecting to have you greet him with a kiss he finds you one the tiled floor with a little dog using one of his socks as a chew toy.

“You got a dog?” Turning to smile at your old man he replies with an uncertain look.

“No, well yes and no. I found him outside our front door, someone must have left him out their” you shrug simply then continue to play with the dog. Happy continues to watch you interact with the puppy a smile pulling at the corners of his lips before he snaps out of it.

“I don’t want a dog” he stares firmly making you scoff

“Good because she’s not your dog, she’s mine” you say in a matter of fact tone while picking up your new family member and walking over to Happy sighing when you see the frown on his face.

“I promise baby, I’ll train her and she’ll be not trouble. Come on, I mean just look at this face” you says holding the small dog up in fort of his face. The dog simply sniffs Hap’s fave before licking him.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend for life” you giggled as Happy made a disgusted face before running over to the sink to wash his face .

“Keep that dog away from my face” that’s all you had to hear before you spent the rest of the night chasing Happy around the house with the dog.

Originally posted by petcornerblog

PSG Roundtable #8: Altars & Shrines for Non-theistic Purposes

Want to make an altar or shrine to a principle, concept, or impersonal subject that isn’t a ‘conventional’ deity, complete with names and symbols and pre-defined rituals?

First, you need to know what its purpose is.  There’s no clear delineation and they often get combined in contemporary practice, but generally speaking, a shrine is a space for devotional offerings, meditation, and/or self-reflection whereas an altar tends to be more of a practical workspace.  Both shrines and altars act as a space in which you interact with the immaterial in some way.  They’re liminal.

Please note that everything I say here is opinion, and I invite you to accept or reject what you will according to your own beliefs, needs, and desires.  I’ll be using my devotion to Death as an example, but you should be able to extrapolate for the universe, moon, sun, nature, etc.  I’m going to stick to the word “altar” for simplicity’s sake.

  • What is your altar dedicated to?

Be as specific as possible.  This helps you know exactly what you’re wanting to deal with.

Ex: Death.  What part of death?  The whole cycle of life-death-rebirth?  Death as the ultimate symbol of transformation and impermanence?  For me, death is the greatest power, and I have an obsession with the concept of entropy.  (Asimov’s “The Last Question” and Arthur C. Clarke’s “The Nine Billion Names of God” are two of my favorite short stories.)  It is the concept by which we define our very nature and how we understand our existence, the source of our greatest fears and anxieties as a mortal species, and the one truly unifying experience for all humans.  And a lot more besides, but I could go on all day about death so I’ll stop here.

  • How do you want to engage with this concept/abstract?

Some common ideas:

  1. Reflection, meditation
  2. Devotionals, worship
  3. Spellcrafting and magic

How do you normally do your meditation or magic?  How can the materials, timing, and other components be adapted?

  • What associations and visuals do you have for this concept?

Consider all the senses: scents, tastes, textures, fabrics, sounds, colors, stones, herbs, numbers, symbols, words and phrases, music notes and songs, emotions, aspects of nature, etc.  Make lists.  Hell, make aesthetic posts.  These will help you choose what kinds of objects, tools, and materials to put on your altar to best facilitate the kind of meaningful experience you’re looking for. 

(Make sure you’re not appropriating anything from a closed or initiatory tradition.  There are usually about a hundred thousand alternatives for everything, so don’t go taking sacred things out of their proper context and using them in ways they weren’t intended to be used.)

Ex: my personal associations for death include black, white, and silver; camphor, menthol, the smell of wet dirt; quiet chill, both damp and dry; grief, dissociation, sarcasm and morbid humor, relief, freedom, truth, rebellion, empowerment, justice, existentialism; the numbers two, three, and seven; obsidian, jet; Southern Gothic folk rock (Jen Titus’ cover of the American folk classic “O Death,” anyone?); black mirrors, slim dark-handled knives, scalpels; images of space; “evanescent” (the SAT word, not the band), “fate,” “tradition,” “stories,” “power”; bleached bones, blood both old and fresh, winter, corvids, silhouettes of bare trees, white bedsheets, gauzy curtains, empty hospital beds, abandoned houses, sexuality, dried flowers, candles burning either singly or in the hundreds.  See, as silly as aesthetic posts can be, they really can be useful.

Now look at your own lists and see what underlying trends and themes there are.  For me, I see impermanence and unadorned realism.  (I left out the more graphic and triggering associations I have with death because I don’t want to distract from the purpose of this post.)  Someone making a list for the sun, on the other hand, may find ‘strength’ or ‘optimism’ is a common theme in their associations.  I find that understanding the themes in your associations helps you understand your own relationship with the concept itself and why you might feel drawn to it so strongly.  It may also help you choose in which direction you want to take your engagement with it.

  • Setting up the altar.

Do what you would do for a conventional altar: cleanse the space (or container, if you’re making your altar in a box, cupboard, drawer, or something similar) and everything you’ll be using on it.  If you don’t have a tradition that comes with a prescription for setting up an altar, you can look up how to cleanse and consecrate altar items in any number of ways and choose the method that’s most appropriate for you.  I do recommend using methods that reflect back to your concept.  For example, salt, as an agent for drying, preserving, and purifying, would be appropriate for death, as would frankincense, which in a multitude of cultures is a required component of funerals.  For something dedicated to the universe as a whole, I would probably incorporate sound into the cleansing, as sound is a wavelength and much of what we know about our universe (sound waves, radiation waves, gravitational fields, matter itself, etc) is based on those principles.

Ex: My altar is dedicated to death in the impersonal, entropic sense.  This means that anything personal goes to a different space set aside for my beloved dead and ancestors; this altar is for the vast, inhuman concept of “the end” that can be so oppressively terrifying or incredibly freeing.  The setup is based on a visual that came during a meditation: the altar cloth is black with a ring of alternating smooth and rough obsidian stones (which betrays my bias as an Irish polytheist) around a circular mirror in the center.  A small sphere of obsidian sits in the center of the mirror.  A black pillar candle stands tall behind it all.  The setup is designed to facilitate my journeyings by creating a symbolically liminal space represented by the ring, made of stones that naturally draw in power rather than reflect it.  The drawing in reflects my journeying technique as well as how I connect with the greater, impersonal energy of death and darkness and all those cheerful things, especially when I hold the obsidian sphere, so it works for me.  If I were doing ancestor or spiritwork I would probably use more white, which recalls a different aspect of “death” than black does to me.

The “nature worship” tag has additional commentary on non-theistic practices.

- mountain hound  

So, Hound covered more of the altar stuff. I’ll add my thoughts on shrines. for ease of reading, I’ll mimic the format starting with

  • What is your Shrine dedicated to?

I find a shrine is much more free form than an altar due to its fundamentally different nature. Whereas an altar is used for practice in spellcraft or meditation a shrine, in my opinion, is about devotion connection in a way that is different than an altar is used for. As such, while I see altars as something that needs to be more specific (as Hound mentioned above), I find shrines do not need to be so specific. For example, my shrine is to Nature, in all its forms. I do not emphasize more the harsh wilds or the tame fields but all its forms under the complete object. If you wish to emphasize one or the other, you can, I just do not find it as necessary to do as with an altar. 

My reasoning for such is (and feel free to disagree) an altar is used more in a practical sense for spellcraft and meditation and other uses that are generally to garner a result. As such being as specific as possible is advantageous as it leaves less room for error.  A shrine, however, is used for more abstract things such as offerings, self-reflection, etc. which are generally things that are not (though can be) used to garner some sort of result. For example, I will leave offerings at my shrine more as an act of devotion with no end goal as opposed to an offering I may give a spirit when requesting its services (which is a good example of an offering to garner some sort of result).

The rest of the points are very eloquently put and can be easily applied to both altars and shrines; the primary difference is the function of active vs passive respectively and how narrow and broad the scope respectively.


The PSG Roundtable Index
before asking | faq+tags | resource blog

Routine Part Four (Lin x Reader)

Prompt List||Request Something||Masterlist

(Part One)(Part Two)(Part Three)

requested: yes

Prompts Used:

75) “I’m sorry that I slapped you across your stupid face.” “Are you really sorry though?” “No, and it’s probably going to happen again.”

Summary: What to Avoid When Writing a Musical

Warnings: a lot of swearing, teen!lin being a total asshole (the peak of jerk teen!lin so far), reader not dealing with his bs

Words: 3175

People who want to be tagged (for some reason that will never make sense to me): @yayhamletnonstop, @old-manmiranda, @sharkastic-issues, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @nesthemonster, @defenestrate-yourself-please, @randomfruitsofhappiness, @always-blame-jefferson, @itsjaynebird, @just-a-random-fandom-24, @unknown1200, @theselfishllama, @chloehamiltonn, @love-doesnt-discriminate

(for some reason it won’t let me tag @colbertandlin-manuel so can someone tag them please??)

Originally posted by alexanderhamllton

“Hey, Y/n! I have a question!” Lin runs up to you and starts talking as you start to walk home after school on a Wednesday. “So, for this whole ‘what to avoid thing’, what topics are we going to use?”

“Oh, I have a whole list, but it’s at my house.” You point to the dirt path that leads to your neighborhood. It’s the you take every day.

“Oh. Okay, that’s fine I can wait until I come over later. See you then!” He starts to walk in the opposite direction. You mull over a thought in your head, and before you know it, it tumbles out of your mouth. 

“Why don’t you just walk home with me? I m-mean if you don’t want to or if you have something else to do, t-then you can come at the normal time-” You start muttering random things, in the hopes of redeeming yourself from something potentially very awkward, while looking at anything but him.

“Hey, hey!” He tries to stop you, but you don’t recognize it so you continue to mumble words under your breath. “whoa whoa WHOA!” He chuckles at your nonsensical rambling, which cause you to stop. 

“Stop talking for two seconds, please? I mean, I know you like speech but geez.” You glare at him, about to yell a response at him before he cuts you off once again. “Uh-buh-buh. No more talking. You talk way too much. Anyways, I’ll walk home with you, but you might have to wait here while I go to the creative writing room to get my project from my teacher.”

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my boyfriend mentioned this the other day and I said I would type it up properly so here’s a heartwarming story about a game my friends and I used to play as small children and by heartwarming I mean buckle up kids because what the fuck was wrong with us

two things you need to know about my childhood:

  • I grew up in buttfuck rural England
  • in rural England there is absolutely fuckall to do apart from go into old forests and fuck with ancient gods

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stranded || dylan o'brien (part one)

word count: 1954

warnings: death

prompt: none (prologue)

author’s note: this took forever to post and i am so sorry! i know it’s really short, but the next part will be a lot more interesting i promise! i hope you like this

tags: @ sharenaloveyoux


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empressvegah  asked:

AUs! Bffs when they were little but moved away and meet each other again!USUK! Thank you!

“No way! Arthur? That you?”

Arthur turned to face the loud, cheery voice, coming face to face with a tall, broad man wearing a bright grin. He didn’t recognize him right away, and his puzzled expression must have been obvious because the man introduced himself.

“Arthur, it’s me! Alfred! Jones, I mean!” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “How long has it been? Ten years?” He asked, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets.

Arthur blinked, his cheeks flushing as his memories came flooding back. “Oh- Alfred, yes, um, twelve actually. I’m just here on a holiday, I wanted to stop by my childhood home-” He pointed, turning back to look at the now overgrown and abandoned house. He sighed.

“I don’t know what I wanted. I feel like I’d be jealous of any new family that was here, but..I didn’t want it to be so run down..” Arthur clucked his tongue, shaking his head at the state of his old home. He’d lived there from ages two to twelve, and considered the old Victorian style home his own.

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My mom and I regularly go to estate sales, and every now and then we come across some absolutely wild houses. Today we went into a 95 year old house. It was falling apart, ceiling missing, holes in the floors and dirt and leaves everywhere. Although I really loved pretty much everything about the house, the stained glass in the kitchen really caught my eye.

Falling back 1/2

Anonymous said :For your prompt: I absolutely love angsty fluff set in the revival era. When it starts by wrenching a knife in your heart because M and S aren’t a family, but then the two of them reconcile over something silly and domestic, and it touches your heart when they finally come together. Bonus points for smut. If you could write something like this it would be amazing!!!

Well anon, here goes nothing! Part 1 is all about the angsty fluff.  Part 2 will be all about the smut.  Tagging @today-in-fic @fictober

 Here be part 1.

I probably should have called before I drove all the way out here but I think if I’d really allowed myself to think about it too much I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to put thought into action and, as I have done so many times over the past year or so,  would have come up with a whole host of perfectly valid reasons as to why this was a bad idea; that we should both just be grateful that out of the ashes of our relationship we had at least found a way to remain friends.

Our partnership had been surprisingly easy to fall back into - so many years of working alongside each other made the re-connect almost seamless and providing we kept things on a professional level we were able to pretty much bury the last couple of years as though they had never happened, but start to stray into the personal, where recrimination, hurt and betrayal still bubbled dangerously close to the surface and the air around us would suddenly become static with highly charged silences that crackled and sparked with all we left unsaid.

But still I ignored the voice of reason inside of me and before I could change my mind I threw a sweater over my shoulders, grabbed my keys and exited my horribly sterile apartment and headed out into the late October sunshine.

I almost turned the car around several times, even pulling over for a few minutes when my anxiety threatened to rear it’s ugly head and whisper in my ear just how foolhardy a plan this was.  Mulder was recovering, I was recovering.  Why risk all that at this stage in the game?

By the time I arrived, I had almost persuaded myself that he wouldn’t be home, that my journey would have been all for nothing or even worse, that he would see my arrival as an inconvenience - an unwelcome interruption in his precious weekend time which I knew he relied heavily upon to rest and regroup, to settle his mind for the week ahead.  Finally finding ways to combat the demons that had grown within him to such an extent he had quite literally fell apart at the seams, retreating far away from himself, from me and from the life we had struggled so hard to build for ourselves when all had seemed hopeless and the only light in the darkness of losing everything had been the fact that we at least still had each other.  Until the day came where it just wasn’t enough anymore and the weight of his guilt, of his obsession and his paranoia finally sent me fleeing from him.  His recovery has been hard fought and right now what we have should be enough.  But it isn’t - maybe it never will be - and I think if I’m honest, that is what has brought me here today.

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Going Home

(this is my first imagine…please let me know what you think)

I let out a ragged, shaky sigh of frustration as I slammed my car door shut and put the keys in the ignition. Today was another bad day after a long line of bad days. When I turned the keys, my car sounded a lot like I felt and let out a “RRRRrrrrRRRRrrrrr” before finally roaring to life. Yet another thing I needed to fix if I could ever manage to find some money in my bank account. I could feel the stress building up as I blinked away the tears that were welling in my eyes and took a deep breath. I did not have time for a mental breakdown right now; my to-do list was already a mile long without carving out an hour to have a pity-party in my car. I took one last deep breath, swallowed a weak sob that had tried to escape, and put my car in drive.

As I raced around winding curves and over hills, I caught the occasional glimpse of a grey-blue wave crashing against a rocky bluff through the evergreens. The salty-ocean breeze was chilly as it whipped through my hair but driving with the windows down has always calmed me. I am flooded with memories of being cramped in the back seat of my parent’s beat up old Jimmy with my cousins as we drove to the beach. All the kids would try to reach their arms out the window so they could watch the wind move their hands up and down, giggling and reaching over top of each other until we started to get upset and push a little more forcefully.

The old memories only made me feel more homesick and alone.

Turning onto the dirt “driveway”, I heard the familiar crunch of the gravel as I bounced over potholes and watched a few squirrels scurry out of my way. The only vehicle parked near the house is an old motorcycle, leaning against the porch steps. I’m not even really sure what I’m doing here since I have a million things to do and I’m not even sure if anyone will be home but I miss them too much.

I knock lightly on the front door, and then take a step back. It has been so long since I have been here…I start to turn around and head for the steps when the door swing open and I hear Emily gasp,

“What are you doing here?! It’s so good to see you!” She quickly crossed the porch and pulled me into a tight hug. I was shocked at first but she had a way of always making you feel like you belonged. I wrapped my arms around her and over her shoulder I could see the guys all coming curiously to see who was at the door. Paul, first in line, doesn’t recognise me at first but Jared comes pushing past him with Seth close on his heels and they slam open the front door and squeeze through together, racing to join in on the hug. Then Paul finally realizes who I am and his face lights up,

“Hey there! Nice of you to finally show up!”

Sam and Jacob are close behind Paul and Jacob runs over and picks me up, spinning me around while everyone starts to chuckle. “Hey Jake!” I giggle and I can feel his laughter against my shoulder before he puts me down, only to pull me into another, less dramatic embrace.

Hearing all the commotion, Embry curiously came to the front door and peaked through the screen. A few muffin crumbs fell from the corners of his mouth as a large grin spread across his face; he jogged over and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close before mumbling “I was wondering when we would get to see you around here” and pulling back to wrap one arm around my shoulders.

“You’re just in time for dinner,” said Emily’ “ Please tell me you can stay! Leah, Kim, and Rachel should all be here soon. Quil will be coming as soon as Claire wakes up from her nap and I know they would all love to see you”

I laugh and nod as my eyes start to water again, for a different reason this time.

It feels good to be home.

Shit My 11 Year Old Sister Says: K-Pop Edition
  • “Hey look it’s EXO! Oh wait, that’s just a piece of dirt.”
  • *referring to my Suga poster whilst I was fangirling over watching Seventeen’s Highlight MV*  “He looks so betrayed.*shudders*
  • “Yugyeom is a coconut and Jungkook is his coconut boyfriend.”
  • *After my dad finished asking us to ‘stop with those chinese boys’* “Sorry, Jackson, you heard him, you’re illegal in my house.”
  • *whispers in my ear* “Yugyeom’s leather pants”
  • “Mark and Jackson are the example of relationship goals.” *I explain that they’re probably not really dating and that it’s just a ship* “Wow…” *shakes her head for a moment* “…never thought my big sister would be this blind.”
  • *Burns herself on stove after I told her for the 100th time to get away from there ajhdgja* BULTAOREUNE!*soft crying* “…fire…”
  • “Look, I get to do a presentation on Mark’s American friends!” *shows me poster she made about snakes*
  • “Aw sis you’re so pretty and your hair is so nice and wavy.” *before I can even say thank you* “too bad your personality sucks and Yugyeom will never love you.”
  • *Bursts into my room* “Chae Hyungwon is Pepe the Frog!” *Runs out in tears*
  • “Do you think Jeonghan and S.Coups make out with each other as friends?”
  • “If Jooheon says ‘let’s get it’ one more time, I’m flying to Korea just so I can slam dunk his head in a pool.”
  • *Walks into my room as I fangirl for the 2748923484th time* “…this is why dad doesn’t love you.”
  • “How long does it take to run to Korea?”
  • *comes into my room with a picture of Rapmonster on her phone, chanting* “sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice!”
  • “Bet you I can lift my leg up as high as Jimin can, watch.” *Kicks her leg up so high that she loses balance and faceplants the floor*
  • “Jackson thinks he’s so good at everything, like, he is, but shut up about it, some of us are potatoes.”
  • “Blackpink’s songs are good but they never wear black or pink therefore they’re fake and I’m unstanning.”
Old man. ( Bjorn Lothbrock x Reader)

From the song old man of Neil Young.

Originally posted by noizzex

Words: 432

Warning: a bit of angst, very cheesy, fluff. 

Authors note: Just so you know, I practically teared up while writing this…

Your eyes were open, but silent you laid in your shared bed, you wouldn’t dare move from your spot under the bear furs. Bjorn was standing next to the door of your shared bedroom. You didn’t dare make a move: sometimes, it was better to not ask him questions about his dreams. Upstares, you could faintly hear your son’s snoring, Bjorn turned his head toward you and you closed your eyes. He sighed. 

Old man look at my life, 

I’m a lot like you were… 

You felt his finger brushing against your cheeks. The bed shifted and the furring was soon enough set on you both, he set his hand on your pregnant belly, nuzzled his cold nose in the crook of your neck. 

‘’I know you are not sleeping.’’ his voice was hoarse, maybe because of another nightmare, but then again, you would not ask him about it. ‘’I thought that you wouldn’t want to talk about it.’’ you whispered carefully. 

Old man, look at my life, twenty-four and there so much more…

Bjorn shooks his head in your neck, of course, he didn’t want to talk about it. He was still hurt by the demeanor of his father. As you patted his braid he hummed in satisfaction and pressed himself a little bit more against you, his head intop of your breast. You smiled a little and closed your eyes for the second time. 

Old man take a look at my life I’m a lot like you I need someone to love me the whole day through Ah, one look in my eyes and you can tell that’s true.
Lagertha was looking at his son and her grant-son playing in the dirt outside of her house. (Y/N) was cooking dinner by herself, her belly was becoming wider and rounder with the month passing by, leaving the seasons making their way on earth, (Y/N)’s little boy came running to her, a wide smile painted on his face, he secured his mother in a forceful hug, laughing out loud. Lagertha looked up towards her son, who was smiling too. 

‘’You are a lot like your father,’’ she said, taking Bjorn attention away from you and your child. He looked at his mother confused. But Lagertha makes her were (Y/N) and her grant-son where standing, for a moment, Bjorn understand what meant his mother. 

I’ve been first and last. 

Look at how the time goes past. 

But I’m all alone at last. 

Rolling home to you. 

Bjorn was holding his little baby girl in his arms for the very first time. You had spent hours screaming, the labor pains were to blame, but the ecstatic look that was now on his face worthed it. Tear in his eyes, threatening to fall, he asked for her name. 

‘’How ‘bout Siggy?’’ 

‘’Perfect, hello, little Siggy…’’ 

Old man look at my life, I’m a lot like you were. 

Old man look at my life, I’m a lot like you were.

Originally posted by paradisecityx3