Mood Boosting Orange Milk Bath 🍊

My mom is visiting me soon, and she’ll be here on her birthday, so I thought I’d make her something that all mothers need! Something relaxing, mood lifting, and positive with self care involved.


  • 1 cup baking soda
  • ½ cup citric acid
  • ½ cup cornstarch (optional, as I didn’t have this today and didn’t use any)
  • ¼ dry milk (optional, if you don’t want your bath milky, you are free to leave this out)
  • 3 tablespoons of Epsom salts
  • a handful of dried & crushed orange peel
  • 1 teaspoon of water
  • 3 - 4 teaspoons of coconut oil (or any base oils you have at hand, such as almond oil)
  • 15 - 20 drops of orange essential oil

This made me 1 large, 1 medium, & 1 mini bath bomb. I didn’t have a ritual or chant, I simply had some of my mood boosting crystals & a plant companion to ensure I was putting only positive energy into making these🌿 

To make dried & crushed orange peel: 

Save the peel from an orange, being sure to remove all fruit from the skin. Lay out to dry, best if it is in the sun. This will take a few days, though I’m sure there are ways to dry in the oven, just be sure to research it before just popping them in to the oven and burning them to a crisp! Once the peels are completely dry, toss the peel into a blender and pulse the blender until the pieces are as small or large as you wish. Store in airtight container.I may make a full tutorial on this if requested, but it’s pretty straight forward.

Good luck, my witchy friends! 

Blessed be,

~ Tea, Spells & Secrets🥀

Papyrus will fight you

I think it also needs to be mentioned that for monsters, fighting isn’t some kind of last resort thing, nor is it an (inherently) aggressive act. Fighting and magic are fun! They’re forms of self-expression! Your attacks are a way to say exactly who you are and show off what you value.

So, someone like Papyrus, who wants everyone to know his name, and who he is, and how strong and cool he is, is going to LOVE fighting. I don’t think he would EVER turn down sparring or training or learning a new technique.

I’ve seen AUs where Papyrus is way too much of a sweetie to ever learn magic attacks or whatever and that feels so WRONG to me. Papyrus would LOVE learning new things to look extra cool.

His overall pacifism and gentleness isn’t in how likely he is to fight, it’s in how much care he puts in to making sure he doesn’t lose control of the fight. It’s the way he tells you you need to jump if you’re getting hurt too early. Is giving you extra invincibility frames to make it easier for you to recover. It’s the way he summons a feild of bones but changes his hold on your gravity so you can clear it. It’s the way he makes a GIANT 2 STORY BONE but lowers it if he sees you aren’t going to clear it. It’s stopping when you’re hurt, it’s having perfect control over his damage output, it’s waiting on his special attack (almost definitely blasters) because pulling them out too early isn’t fair.

During his fight, he really wants you to think he’s impressive and cool, between “you’re blue now” and all the antics he gets up to. He’s trying hard to play it cool, he’s trying to treat it like it’s just a sparing session, just showing off, and willfully ignoring what comes after. 

While I’m trying to make a general rambling point about Papyrus’s pacifism being misrepresented, I want to propose something a little different:

How about instead of showing Papyrus as somehow reluctant to fight, you show him as excited to learn? Not just training from Undyne, but learning from anyone. Healing, orange attacks. soul modes, bombs, fire magic, cool patterns, new ways to use his magic. He’s clearly a student of the craft. Why take that way? Gimme a Papyrus that tries to learn as much as possible to have even more ways to show off (and even greater control to ensure things never get out of hand)

anonymous asked:

I have an idea for a sweet/sad prompt. Reader is a stranger that randomly dials numbers when she's soul achingly lonely and has managed to get the Skelebros on different occasions. She admits somewhere in her call why she's doing it. Maybe they run into each other, as a broherd or individually.

@vivacious-hyena  Sorry this took so long to finish, but I hope you enjoy it! <3  It was a ton of fun to write!


The first time you call Sans, he humors you.  His voice is thick and groggy, like you woke him up, and you feel guilty, but he brushes your concern aside.  "yeah, i jus’ woke up, but hey.  wakin’ up to a pretty voice is almost like wakin’ up next to ya, so i’ll let it slide.“

He flirts with you pretty heavily the entire phone call, and the more alert he gets, the more dirty puns he comes up with.  You’re blushing, but emboldened by the anonymity of the encounter.  You flirt back.

"is this somethin’ you do often?  callin’ random numbers to flirt with strangers?”

“It’s just something I’ve always done when I was feeling especially lonely.”

Sans can relate to that feeling.

The second time you call Sans, he’s drunk at a bar.  You can hear a lot of noise in the background, but he sounds like he’s in a good mood.  He flirts immediately, but then you hear someone else’s voice in the background… and you realize he was flirting with them instead.  You shouldn’t feel an irrational surge of jealousy–of rejection–but you do.  

You hang up.

Months pass before you call Sans again.  You’re not even sure why you saved his number in your phone.  You’re just feeling particularly lonely and want someone to joke around with you, to make you feel like you’re wanted.

You don’t expect Sans to remember you, but he does.  He sounds like you woke him up again, and it makes you wonder if he does anything but sleep and drink.  You actually blurt that out, but instead of feeling insulted, he just chuckles.  The deep sound of mirth does something wonderful (and terrible–you shouldn’t feel this way over a disembodied voice!) to your insides.  

“why don’t'cha join me?”

“For which one?”


You’re in a low enough place that you accept on the spot.  

The next thing you know, you’re all dressed up and at a bar with a purple fire elemental serving up the drinks.  He told you to wear something red, so you’ve got on a vibrant red dress (or a red tie or red shirt–take you pick).  After a few moments of sitting at the bar (and ordering the most delicious monster alcohol you’ve ever tasted; that flamesman is a miracle worker), you feel a hand graze across your back, and you turn to face…

A skeleton monster.  He’s smirking, his teeth sharp and a golden canine glinting in the flamesman’s light, and his crimson eyelights flick up and down your body appraisingly.  From the way his grin widens, you can tell he likes what he sees.

You’re still staring, flabbergasted.  You didn’t expect him to be the living dead.  

“heh, sweetheart…”  His voice trails as he takes a seat on the barstool beside you. “why don’t you take a pitcher?  it’ll last longer.”  He chuckles, and the pun is enough to shock you out of your trance.  "seriously.  let’s get a pitcher of something and chat.  name’s sans.  sans the skeleton.  probably shoulda mentioned that bit on the phone, huh?“

When you shake his hand, he actually gets you with an electric buzzer and then laughs.  "don’t look so shocked!  it’s jus’ a buzzer, doll.”

He’s right.  You’re going to need more alcohol to get through this.

You end up matching Sans shot for shot.  He drinks you under the table.  You tell him all about yourself, why you feel the way you feel, and regale him with other tales of people you’ve called in the past.  You divulge your secrets, and his grin tightens.  He tells you jokes and dirty pick-up lines, and you flirt and flirt.  You get handsy, curious about the feeling of his bone and how his face can seem so animated.  "Bone shouldn’t be this pliable.  It just shouldn’t.  Shit, I’m hitting on a skeleton,“ you slur, your fingers dangerously close to his eyesockets while you explore his face, and his hands loosely grasping your wrists.  "Can.. can you even..?  Do you even have…?”

“why not find out first-hand?” he prompts with a wicked grin and a shrug.

And you do.  Oh, you do.  

(It turns out he does have the goods.)

And by the time a tall, boisterous skeleton runs you off in the morning, while you’re cringing and trying to shhhh him because your head is killing you, you begin to have regrets.  You’re not a one-night stand; you can’t believe you actually think he’s charming, and now that he’s gotten what he wants, he won’t–

But then he calls.


The first time you reached Papyrus, he was annoyed.  How did some stranger get his number?!  He didn’t buy the ‘random coincidence’ bit and thought it was a prank–or someone just trying to rattle him.  


The second time you call him, you’re not entirely sure why.  Maybe you were feeling particularly down and just wanted someone to kick you further into the abyss.  He can hear it in your voice, and even though he’s frustrated (“YOU AGAIN!!”), he doesn’t automatically hang up.  He rattles off a list of people he suspects you to be, and when you deny each one, he starts to believe you.  

“That’s a lot of people that you assume would mess with you,” you remark, and he scoffs.


“How can you be great and terrible at the same time?”

He proceeds to tell you about his exploits in the Royal Guard for the next hour.  He barely even takes a breath.

The third time you call him, you’re having a Bad Day.  "I SHOULD’VE KNOWN YOU WOULD CALL AGAIN!“

You don’t return the greeting.


Papyrus listens to you cry for nearly a half hour.  You only know he’s still there because you can occasionally hear the scrape of the phone against the side of his face.  You didn’t even know he could be that quiet.  

“…Sorry,” you end up murmuring, before you hang up.

A week passes, and you’re too embarrassed to call him again.  You beat yourself up over your moment of weakness–of showing him such an ugly side of yourself.

But that night, he calls you.

You’re shocked to see his number pop up on your phone, but you answer anyway.  Immediately, he blurts, “WHERE ARE YOU?”

“E-excuse me?”


The request seemingly comes out of nowhere.  You end up complying and giving him a location to meet you, and when you do… you immediately recognize him just from his confident stride.  And holy crap, he’s tall and scary-looking.

“I didn’t expect you to be a skeleton monster.”

“I EXPECTED YOU TO BE A WEAK HUMAN, SO AT LEAST ONE OF US WAS CORRECT.”  He glowers down at you, his expression a constant scowl.  You begin to rethink this meeting, but something in your own expression causes his gaze to soften slightly.  "…COME ON. I MADE RESERVATIONS,“ he claims, gesturing for you to follow.

Papyrus treats you to dinner, and throughout the meal, he prods you into talking about yourself.  He even pays for your half, despite your insistence that it’s not necessary.  Afterward, he takes you on a walk through the town, simply meandering along the sidewalks.  You’re bolder now and end up talking the entire time, while he listens in contemplative silence.  


You stare at him, flabbergasted for a full thirty seconds before you stammer, "T-this was a date?!”

He calls you every day after that.  


Sans is beyond excited that you’ve called him.  He instantly wants to know all about you–what’s your favorite food, your favorite color, do you like puzzles, what’s your opinion about glitter?  When you ask him about himself, he informs you that he’s the MAGNIFICENT SANS.  After a while of talking, he declares that he realizes the TRUE INTENT of your call.  


He says it with such genuine sincerity that you grin and agree.

Sans texts you every day after that call, his messages in ALL CAPS followed by several exclamation marks.  His excitement is contagious, and his cheerful messages brighten your day.  If you don’t call him at night, then he calls you.  He always asks about your day, and even the little menial details intrigue him.  You feel as if he really listens to you–that he actually cares about the conversations you had at work or the stupid pictures you laughed at online.  

He sends you pictures of puzzles, followed by selfies of him grinning broadly with a man in an orange hoodie photo-bombing the background of each one.  You’re surprised to discover that he’s a skeleton, but when you send him a selfie back, you find that he thinks humans are fascinating.  You’re given the green light to ask all the questions you want (“Why do your eyes sometimes look like stars?  How do your cheeks puff out?  How do you eat?  What was it like Underground?”) and he asks about your life on the Surface and what you thought when the barrier broke.  

Somewhere along the conversations, you admit to him that you feel less lonely ever since you called him.  He sounds so proud and so excited when he responds with, “THAT’S GREAT, HUMAN!!  I’M A MAGNIFICENT GUY, AFTER ALL, SO OF COURSE I’D BE A MAGNIFICENT FRIEND!  AND YOU KNOW… YOU’RE VERY MAGNIFICENT YOURSELF, SO IT WOULD BE A TRAGEDY FOR SOMEONE LIKE YOU TO FEEL LONELY!  IF YOU EVER FEEL THAT WAY, CALL ME IMMEDIATELY SO I CAN FIX IT, OKAY??”

And you do.  Even in the times when you don’t feel like you should bother him, he always seems to call you first.  You get so close to him, that when he invites you to have lunch in the park, you accept without hesitation.  You end up on a picnic with him and his brother–and you even meet Alphys, a reptilian monster with even more spunk than Sans.  She convinces both of you to run laps around the park while her girlfriend Undyne and Sans’s bro Papyrus lie in the shade and watch.  They’re all really accepting of you, and you… don’t feel so alone anymore.  

That night, when Sans walks you home, you slip your hand into his.  Surprisingly, his face lights up a bright blue that glows in the dark, and you laugh and call him a nightlight.  He gets flustered and pulls his hand away, so you end up walking with your arms around his neck, jokingly trying to console him.  Blueberry grabs your arms and swiftly pulls you onto his back, and then grins as he gives you a piggyback ride home.  

When he drops you off, you kiss his glowing cheek and thank him.  His face glows even brighter, and he remarks confidently, “MWEH HEH HEH, FOR SOMEONE AS STRONG AS THE MAGNIFICENT SANS, CARRYING YOU IS A BREEZE!”  

You score a solo-date with him that weekend and exceed all of his standards with your sheer Dating Power.


Stretch realizes you’re a stranger the moment he picks up the phone.  After all, there are very few people that actually know his number, and those that do know that he’s a texter rather than a caller (with the exception of his brother; he’ll always answer his phone calls).  He was expecting you to be a telemarketer he could mess with, so he starts off with his usual “is your refrigerator running?  ok, i’ll bring the brewskis over.”

“Okay, bring 'em over.  I’ll drink with you,” you reply, and he realizes quickly that you’re not attempting to sell him anything.  He chuckles in his surprise and starts chatting with you about drinks–then honey, then sweets, then about how you sound sweet.  His voice is smooth and relaxed, his chuckle rich and amused.  You like his voice, and closing your eyes, you’re able to imagine him lying next to you on your bed in the bed, murmuring into your ear.

You end up falling asleep talking to him.  

The next day, he texts you.  

Smooth like Honey: “if youre feelin phonely tonight call me”

Was that… a crappy phone pun?  You may have mentioned that you called him because you felt lonely and just wanted to talk to someone.

You call him again, and he’s just as nice.  This time, you hear someone boisterous in the background and discover he has a brother.  His brother insists on talking to you.  "HELLO! DO I KNOW YOU?  I DON’T??  ME?  I’M THE MAGNIFICENT SANS!!  DO YOU LIKE TACOS?“

You end up getting invited over for a taco dinner.  You politely decline because you know that meeting strangers at their house for tacos is a good way to get made into ground beef.  Sans seems heart-broken.  

You and Papyrus keep in touch through texting throughout the week.  The next time you call him, you’ve had a bad week, and you’re drunk and want him to bring over those brewskis.  You vaguely remember texting him your address, but he does show up.  He doesn’t have alcohol, and you remember blurting something like "You’re a fucking skeleton!” which he may have countered with “yeah, you’re right, hun.  i’m a skeleton that fucks.”  He’s got a lazy grin and a lollipop between his teeth, and you end up clutching his hoodie on your couch, all of your inhibitions obliterated as you ask him to just talk to you–right by your ear.

“honey, do you like my voice that much?”

And then you may have ripped that sucker out of his mouth and kissed him.  You can’t remember.  You know you wanted to do it, but everything gets fuzzy after that.  All you know if that you wake up throwing up into a trash can with Stretch rubbing your back and looking tired, and you grasp at the bits and pieces of the night before.  He’s really here; he’s a skeleton, but he’s a rather attractive monster with a grin that gives you butterflies and a voice that makes your toes curl, and you just… ruined everything.  

Surprisingly, he stays and takes care of you, watching Netflix on the couch and making sure you drink enough water.  He teases you for becoming a vomit dragon, and asks if kissing him was really that repulsive.  You turn bright red and stammer out apologies, but he shrugs all of them off.  "we’ve all been there.  do you want me to go home?“

"No, but–”

He slips an arm around your shoulders and drags you against his side.  "then i wanna stay  it’s as queasy as that.“  

So, he stays.  He ends up asleep on the couch halfway through NTT re-runs, and you nap against his chest.  The next thing you know, you’re dating and going over for Taco Thursdays with his brother.

These got kinda long, so I’m skipping the SF!bros, but just pretend Blackberry was a jerk at first and then tsundere, and then kinda thirsty and demands you be his because "IT’S OBVIOUS YOU’RE HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH ME! IT’S NO COINCIDENCE THAT YOU CALLED ME!  ALL OF THIS WAS PLANNED FROM THE VERY BEGINNING!  SO FINE! COME OVER TO MY HOUSE AND SHOW ME YOUR PASSION IN PERSON!!”

And SF!Paps straight-up talks you into phone sex with him, before coaxing you into meeting him to make your conversations a reality–only you didn’t expect a skeleton monster.

….I actually realllllyyy want to write that as a one-shot now.  

anonymous asked:

Hi! May I request reader giving two junkers sweaters, because she doesn't want them to have a cold?

[Accidently misread and made it reader x roady x junk in  a poly ship sorry sorry sorry]

You loved your boys with all your heart and cared for them as much as you could, they didn’t need you to look after them in certain departments, being terrfying and armed to the teeth not to mention the reputation either of them had but they would neglect certain things. Jamison was a pain when it came to eating or sleeping, you had to bring him food and remind him to eat and care for himself.

Roadhog was another matter, he would always ignore cuts and bumps, you would have to help him as you didn’t trust Junkrat with his dirty hands near open wounds. Winter was coming along and you knew the junkers hadn’t had a winter outside of Junkertown yet and they would feel it. Not that you didn’t love seeing their bodies in as little clothes as they tended to wear but you knew when the colder days and nights crept in they were going to feel it.

You decided to start early making them as Roadhog was a mountain of a man and Jamison was his own towering stack of limbs, two long and big and very awkward males you knew you had your work cut out for you, so whenever they were busy working on their own things or out doing whatever it was they did you would work tirelessly with knitting, at least it was calming and took your mind off of worrying about what state your boys would return home in.

It took you ages but soon you were finished and happy with your work. One night your boys got home and Junkrat was shivering, a look on his face, bushy brows furrowed and his teeth chattering, he tried to talk through it, his voice sounding jittery, of course the much skinnier man would feel it first but you could see the goosebumps on Roadhog’s arms even if he was much less obvious about his temperature discomfort.

“Hey” you greeted them looking up from your book as they both stumbled into the house, locking the door.

“How did the heist go?”

“G-g-good got some nice gems an’ stuff to sell fo’ a pretty penny, get them bike parts we need” Junkrat said, still jittering, even his manic giggle sounded flat and chilled.

He took off his riptire and ammo, setting it aside as Roadhog did the same and looked around the place for windows, making sure they were closed and curtains shut, only a few candles you had lit for light. You got up and went to a small box you kept your things in.

“Looks like your both chilly… good job I’ve finished these..” you said.

Junkrat jumped up, his ears perked and his eyes darted from you to the box as he leapt over the sofa with as much grace as a drunken chicken, arms flapping in the air as he peered over your shoulder, he let the tip of his tongue hangout his mouth as he bounced on the sofa cushion.

“Ya made us pressies darl?” he said with such eagerness, hands to his face now holding back a cackle.

Roadhog had listened and was standing to the side watching as you nodded, pulling out a massive dark blue jumper with a knitted version of his tattoo on it, you held it out proudly, it was massive you could have used it as a blanket but it was for the large junker.

He looked it over before he took it, putting it over his head, it fit like a dream, snug against his form but nice and warm, the thick wool you used was soft, thick, he pulled it a little and admired the design, loving the detail. He gave you a thumbs up and you could hear a muffled thanks, you smiled, that was always a big gesture from your bulky boyfriend.

Junkrat was now bouncing more, hoping he also got something as great as what you had given Roadhog, you pulled out a very long dark green jumper which had little orange and yellow bombs with his smileys all over, he made a loud screech  as you handed it to him.

He put it on with such eagerness he got his limbs tangled up and head in the wrong place, you laughed and soon helped him sort himself out. He soon stood there admiring it, he did a little twirl on his peg leg and did a bow.

“‘Ow do I look? ‘andsome as eva right?” The tall junker said, his arms stretched out wide to show it off to his partner in crime who just huffed.

“You look great.. do you like it?” you asked and before they could answer you felt Junkrat grab you, pulling you up off the ground and hugging you close, nodding his head over and over as Roadhog came in from behind and gently embraced his smaller partners.

You just grinned to yourself.

I just got up and my hand slipped. Thats all I’m going to say.

Also! On Tuesday I am uploading a set of four fusions in concurrence to the new Steven Bomb! If you want me to do any fusions (preferably with fusions relevant to the bomb) Comment!