my stomach though

“Hi, my name is Sonic, and I like chili dogs, sunsets, long walks on the beach, and destroying cities.”
*Please do not use this art or image without my given permission-thank you!*

Witch Tip

Feel sick to your stomach? Have the WORST stomach bug on the planet? Dump a bowl of fresh mint and a few slices of ginger in the bath and then jump on in.

Seriously, it works wonders.

Super Cool Stuff is Happening!

Hey everyone! I am very excited to tell you all that I’ve talked with a local wolfdog sanctuary and rescue facility and tomorrow I get to head out and meet the owner in person as well as all of the animals! This place is only about 30 minutes from me so I think it’s somewhere that I could spend a lot of my time if everything goes as well as it sounds like it will. I talked on the phone with the owner for about 2 hours today! We hit it off really well and I love the ideas she has for trying to fundraise for the animals in her care and expand her little community.

I’ll do my best to take some pictures and share the experience with you guys! I would love to have something like a journal for working with these animals on a frequent basis but that will have to come second to me actually working over there.

I am beyond excited for this hands-on opportunity and I hope I’m able to spend a lot of time there!

Nerd. [Part 1.]

A/N: Warning, this is supposed to be really cliche and crappy so. .  yeah, and Y/L/N means Your Last Name, and credit to whoever made this sexy gif.

Rated: PG

Summary: where Luke is a pretentious Jock, and you are a Nerd.

Word count:1267.

I shoved my new Notebooks in my bag, I was ready for my first day, even though my stomach still twisted sickeningly.

John ran out of his room, his wild brunette hair still tousled like he just woke up, he punched my shoulder as I  winced feeling my arm already starting to bruise, “See ya’ Bitch.” He singsonged like this Monday was beautiful and swung his sleek black backpack over his shoulder, his car keys in hand as he enjoyed his senior year joyfully.

It was my freshmen year, Lucky me.

I pulled my hair into a lazy ponytail, it was boring, to say the least, I was in what I would call my ‘Blending in’ clothing, so not many people approached me, not like anyone really wanted to.

“Y/N! I want to take your picture of your first day of high school, Oh I remember mine!” My mom squealed excitedly, I wanted to groan in annoyance, She was the pretty girl in high school who made friends with basically the whole school at my age, but now she was a single parent raising three children and spending most of her time doing Pinterest DIYs.

“Can it be quick I really need to get to school early,” I looked down at my phone seeing as it was 7:30 in the morning, even though school started at nine I wanted to interduce myself to all the teachers so I could possibly get a better seat, if there was a seating chart.

“Alright! Smile.” my mom pointed her camera at me as I stood in the middle of the living room, messenger bag on my hip that had the batman symbol on it.

I gave my mom a real big fake smile, she grinned back at me, every time someone took my picture I smiled like that, to make it seem like I was happy living another three years in this dreadful home, that never really had any joy.

“Alright, have a good day.” My mom waved her hand dismissing me, already posting the picture on facebook and Instagram, as she didn’t even look up at me anymore.

“Thanks.” I crumbled opening the screen door and walking the few blocks to school.


I entered the school, I feel the tight feeling wrapping itself around my neck, and it felt hard to breathe as I made my way towards my first classroom, luckily only a few teachers and nerds like me were here, My new teacher Miss Pennington was setting up her classroom still, unstacking chairs and making sure everything was clean.

“Miss Pennington?” I said, my voice coming out weaker than I expected.

Her head shot over to me, she was beautiful, to say the least, she was a little overweight but that didn’t matter, her blonde hair was in a proper bun and her eyebrows were styled sweetly as she had minimum makeup capturing her features.

“Yes? You are?” She held out her hand, finishing putting a chair in front of a desk, she had about 7 more desks.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” I smiled shaking her hand, trying to be polite.

“Oh well, you do know school starts in two hours right?” She said in confusion not knowing why one of her students was so early.

“I know.. It’s just that I was wondering If I could read in here, and see if I could get a good seat up close Ma'am, Or do you need any help?” I motioned to the seven unstacked chairs.

“Oh yes that would be very nice of you, and you can pick any seat you want.” My teacher grinned happily, for a History class this was really nice.

“Thank you so much! It’s just that I’m bad around lot’s of people.” I smiled embarrassingly, as I helped her unstack the chairs, putting my messenger bag filled with pencils and notebooks in one of the first desks closest to miss Pennington.

“Oh that’s fine, I know how you feel, I was the exact same way in high school, barely made any friends.” She giggled, I was still shocked she could speak without stuttering in front of the class.

“But..? you talk in front of people every day.” I flushed at the stupid question.

“I just got over it.” She shrugged a bright smile on her lips, we finished unstacking the chairs.

“Do you mind if I read quietly?” I asked, hoping she’d say yes.

“That’s fine Miss Y/L/N, by any chance to you happen to be related to Mister Y/L/N?” She asked, I swallowed the lump in my throat and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind my ear, and nodded.

“You both have very different personality’s.” the teacher nodded, looking towards her desk, the anxiety came back, a number of detention slips John had came home with, or bad grades, or maybe even his vulgar tongue?

“Here’s your textbook for this year, I really hope this year is going to be uneventful?” She gave me a pointed look as if warning me, thinks went from zero to ten real fast, anger boiled in my chest, my brother who I didn’t even particularly like just ruined a nice relationship with a teacher, nice.

I nodded quickly, and sat down in my chair closest to the window in the front row, pulling out another book I got from the library, I usually said “eenie meenie miney mo” and picked a book off the bookshelf as I closed my eyes so I refrained from judging a book by its cover.


“And he was like 'Whaaatt?’ can you believe it?” a guy loudly whispered to his friend three rows behind me, of course, it was just the first class of the year but did they really need to talk so loud?

“Mister Clifford and Mister Hemmings, do you want me to separate you two for the rest of the school year?” She glared at the two boys behind me,

“No..” Another voice muttered, and she went back to teaching.

They were in the back but I could still hear them 'Whispering’, have they ever heard of using their inside voices?

“Mister Clifford! Trade seats with..” Miss Pennington scanned the classroom, and then her eyes trained on me, fuck.

“With Miss Y/L/N.” I turned around 'Mister Clifford’ looked confused on whoever miss Y/L/N was, I stood scared, Clifford had to be a Senior, I was wondering why he was in a freshmen History class.

I dragged my messenger back towards the back keeping my head down until I saw the empty desk still scooched close to his friend’s chair.

I took a seat carefully as Miss Pennington began to continue on the basics, I could barely hear her, great.

I started to scooch the chair away from 'Hemmings.“ Not looking at him, but he grabbed onto my chair and quietly scooted it back towards where it originally was.

I looked up at him in surprise, he had blonde hair and blue eyes, his eyebrows shaped bushily but somehow perfectly, He leaned towards me as I looked away, "Don’t even try, I’m stuck with you the rest of year Nerd, I’m gonna need to copy your homework.” His voice demanding and dark, but yet arousing, I never thought I’d use those words but it was true.

“You can’t do that.” I stuttered out in a whisper using my hand to shield my mouth so Miss Pennington couldn’t see me whispering, suddenly 'Hemmings knew how to use his inside voice as he threatened me, making chills roll down on my spine.

“Watch me.”

{Part 2}


twenty-five days of OUTLANDER [4/25]
favourite LINE DIRECTLY FROM THE BOOK → in which master raymond answers a question (2.07, “faith” / dragonfly in amber chapter 25, “raymond the heretic”)

  “Why do you call me madonna still? My hands rested on the slight concavity of my stomach, gently as though not to disturb the shattering emptiness. “I’ve lost my child.”
  He looked mildly surprised.
  “Ah, I did not call you madonna because you were with child, my lady.”
  “Why, then?” I didn’t really expect him to answer, but he did.

anonymous asked:

Wait how did we find out about master Raymond's descendants? Is this a novella thing? (I normally don't like reading novellas so I'm out of the loop)

Well it’s in part based on what Master Raymond tells Claire, immediately after he heals her in Dragonfly in Amber:

“Why do you call me madonna still?” I asked. My hands rested on the slight concavity of my stomach, gently as though not to disturb the shattering emptiness. “I’ve lost my child.”  

      He looked mildly surprised.  

      “Ah. I did not call you madonna because you were with child, my lady.”  

      “Why, then?” I didn’t really expect him to answer, but he did. Tired and drained as we both were, it was as though we were suspended together in a place where neither time nor consequence existed; there was room for nothing but truth between us.  

      He sighed.  

      “Everyone has a color about them,” he said simply. “All around them, like a cloud. Yours is blue, madonna. Like the Virgin’s cloak. Like my own.”

This alone implies that Claire is related to him somehow - and, of course, that he is a time traveler.

Which Diana Gabaldon has confirmed on her website:

Well, he’s a prehistoric time traveler. I think he came from somewhere about 400 BC or perhaps a bit earlier (not technically “prehistoric,” but they certainly weren’t using written records where he started out), and the 18th century is not his first stop.

He is–or was–a shaman, born with the ability to heal through empathy. He sees auras plainly; those with his power all have the blue light he has–born warriors, on the other hand, are red (so yes, “the red man” is iconic). He has a rather strong aversion to Vikings, owing to events that happened in his own time; hence his nervousness when he sees Jamie. He’s afraid of them, but he also realizes just what a strong life-force they have–that’s why he makes Claire invoke it (using the sexual and emotional link between her and Jamie) to heal her.

His descendants–a few of whom he meets now and then in his travels–have the blue light about them, too; in large degree or small, depending on their talents. So he knows Claire, when he sees her, as one of his great-great, etc. grand-daughters. And Gillian/Geillis is another–you notice she has Claire’s sense of plants, though she tends naturally to poison, rather than medicines.

We’ll see him again–though not in Jamie and Claire’s story, I don’t think. Master Raymond should get his own series of books, eventually.   So in fact, we’ll see Claire, Jamie, and Geillis again, then– but as secondary characters in Master Raymond’s story (you recall, Geillis mentions having met “one other” (time-traveler) in Voyager, but doesn’t tell Claire who it is).

Heaven knows just when we’ll get to that–in about ten years, at this rate–but we will get to it. <grin>

Shitty: You know, If you’re having feelings for Bitty you could just go talk to him about them. 

Jack: Okay…I will…I’m not feeling very well though…My stomach hurts…and I think I’m going to the rink in a bit so….

Shitty: You know Jack, sometimes Ransom’s stomach hurts too…when Holster spends the night at the Tennis Sorority…

Jack: Well sometimes my stomach hurts whenever Bittle leaves the room so it’s probably psychological…

Shitty: (-_-)   

I remember the first time I learned about homosexuality.

“Homosexuals are sinners.” My grandmother spat, an open bible sat on her lap. There was such an intensity to her voice that it made me recoil. I saw that homosexuality was in the same section as murderers and thieves, but it didn’t feel right. Why would people loving one another be considered a sin?

But my grandmother talked about it with such a disgust that she might as well have been talking about rotting flesh. So if my grandmother hated it I would too.

Even though my stomach turned.

I remember when I first heard the word ‘gay’ hurled as an insult.

It was third grade and I was on the playground. I watched as two boys fought over who was ‘hotter’. One of them shouted, “Well you’re gay so it makes you ugly.” The entire playground erupted in laughter, and the other boy’s face lit red with shame.

And even though the insult was hurled at him, I was the one who took the biggest hit. There it was again, the belief that two people in love was gross. But my family and friends were against it, so I had to be too. So I shook off the hurt and laughed as well.

Even though it stung.

I remember the first time I saw two girls kissing.

My mother gasped in horror, like we’d just been flashed. Maybe to her, it felt like we were. She turned, grabbed my hand, and sped by the couple, like they were fire and she didn’t want us getting burned.

“Don’t you ever do that, do you hear me? God doesn’t like it.”

But all I can remember thinking is that I’d give anything for someone to look at me the way those two girls looked at each other. But mom was disgusted so I had to be too.

Even if it hurt.

I remember the first time I saw her.

It was a new school and a new start. I didn’t know what to expect, but then our eyes met. I didn’t know it was possible to feel lost yet right at home at the same time. Every heart stopping, butterflies flying, knee shaking cliché sucker punched me in the gut. Her smile marked my soul like a tattoo.

But then my family’s words crashed over me, drowning me in a sea of prejudice and discrimination. I felt self-disgust morph into a dragon, my only weapon a wooden sword. So I tore my head away from her and buried my feelings. I killed them every time they came to life.

Even if it left open wounds on my heart.

I remember the first time I decided not to give a shit.

I evicted years of self-loathing from my body, because I would never let my heart be its home again. I let the love in instead, providing shelter to all the feelings I’d been trying to kill for years. Because at the end of the day, love is not defined by gender or sex. Love knows none of these things, does not need to know any of those things.  Love is a basic human right, and I finally understood that I needed to treat it as such.

Even if not everyone could see that.

—  Above all, remember this; we were all built to love, and who we love is not a broken part of us (N.O)
Small victories are my go-to addiction;
I bite down on the urge to move forward
and it flakes away on my tongue, so I
choose to ignore taste and texture for
the things that are easier to swallow.

Sixteen-year-old me had delusions of grandeur
that twenty-three-year-old me still finds
stuck to her teeth, day in and day out.

Times have changed, though.
My stomach can’t handle the future
like it used to, dreams become a thing
to be savored, but later, not now.

Not when my whole mouth has turned
bitter, as the aftertaste of rejection,
of isolation and anger and envy.

Oh my, to seek sweetness in this body
is to wait for the draught to end
and the harvest to come, to find the fruit
and have it be heaven, instead of sin.

It is my hope to find the desires I liked so well
and to realize they have not gone rotten.
—  Living off of kept hopes (Larissa M.)

HAhahaa talking to one of my friends(Whom ive known since jr.high) isn’t taking the news of me going to start hormone treatment well


He was supportive on my college choice

supportive when I lost my first love

supportive on coming out as pansexual

supportive of coming out as trans

supportive of my name change


this is the part he don’t want to be supportive on???

So the band and choir went to the riverboat tonight for like 4 or 5 hours and we sailed on the Tennessee River. It started off fancy, then turned into a horrible, horrible grinding party, which was only stopped near the end by the band directors because the parents and stuff wouldn’t do anything#!! Like it was so gross. There’s having fun, then there’s that. Anyway, at the end, the DJ played hardcore metal songs and we headbanged so hard my body is in pain. A moshpit began during Downfall of Us All and I was PUNCHED IN THE GUT TWICE and my friend was knocked on the ground and pulled out luckily 😂😂 My stomach hurts now, though

anonymous asked:

My crush is myself. I love myself enough to walk away from someone who didn't appreciate me or treated me with the proper respect I deserve. I feel sick to my stomach though that I know I should have more self respect and pride to not want to msg him but I miss him a lot and I haven't liked somebody this hard in so long that I'm devestated not gonna lie..

Thank you for sharing this with me self love is so important especially for someone who’s had difficulty coming across it! You are inspiring and beautiful also it’s ok to have that moment of doubt where you do want to call him but don’t ,do what is best for you bb💓💓

jxwelry  asked:

I'd hug you and then we'd go to a cafe and I'd order a blueberry muffin I have it all planned out ,

You had me at muffins. Forget guys, the way to my heart is through my stomach (only with sweets though) <3 Careful though – I’m really bony to hug.

Send me a “if I met you”