salt stain

Simple Water Spell to Dispel Anxiety

Really, it will dispel whatever you need it to. 


  • A large shell capable of holding water (can be subsituted for a bowl, though shell is recommended) 
  • A glass of water 

  • Black salt 


  • Pour a bit of black salt into your left hand. Once you have, take a moment to hold it and close your eyes, slowing your breath and visualizing that whatever anxious thoughts you might have are rough water, splashing and crashing inside of you. 
  • Visualize that the rough water is flowing from your head down into your chest and up into your left hand, leaving behind only stillness and peace where it once was. Feel that energy be drawn into the salt that you hold. 
  • Open your eyes and hold your left hand over the shell. With your right hand, pick up the glass of water and pour it over the salt, letting it wash off of your hand and into the shell. Continue to pour the water until no salt or black stain is on your hand. 
  • Look down into the dark water inside of the shell and feel that all of your anxiety is contained within it. It is separated from you, leaving you a feeling of pleasant stillness. 
  • Take a few breaths to relax yourself further, focusing on that feeling of peace. 
  • Dispose of the water (preferably down a drain or somewhere where it won’t harm any plants). 
  • Repeat as needed.

I don’t know how so much emotion can fit inside of such a tiny human.

Why does it feel so good to cry? Why do salt-stained eyes bring me comfort? I want to purge myself from feelings - I want to shove my fingers down my throat and pull from it strings of chewed up letters. Stomach-stained thoughts. Be filled with complacent emptiness for just a moment - the gasp of air, when it feels like happiness, until gravity remembers itself and the emptiness becomes stillness becomes face down on your bed, unmoving. This can’t be how I live every moment that I’m alone - I can’t be this unhappy every time I’m alone. What does being around others even mean? It means being The Performer. Reciting your lines, pause for laughter. Pretend like you’re listening. Don’t say what you really mean, how you really feel, it’s not what people do. Rip that pulsing heart off your sleeve. We are all alive, we are all feeling what’s the use in holding back. I’m exhausted. What does it mean to just exist? To just be Alice, laying in the daisy field. The sun can see her, but nothing else. The movement of petals. What does it mean to breathe easily? What does it mean to be happy? Where does the laughter escape to when you’re alone? I feel, often, always, like a wind-up doll, a performance piece. I’m out, I’m social, I speak, I dance, I leave out my hat. I come home, back to my shelf, I sit, I stare, I want to be wound up again - always by others, never of my own volition. I become nothing for myself. If a blue haired girl takes a bath, writes a dream, touches herself, packs a box, but no one’s around to see it, did it really happen? I weep and weep and it doesn’t matter. I’m screaming into the abyss, the abyss is silent in return. The abyss has given up on us, it seems. The abyss needed something to scream into as well, it seems. Alex in the morning, doe eyes, cheery Alex is all anyone knows and it seems unfair to real Alex. Magnificently unfair. When can I be content being myself. I’m so tired. My mouth doesn’t want to make the words anymore. We slur (soberly, drunkenly), we can’t form coherent sentences. Ink based thoughts are the only ones I ever complete. (It’s cheating, I have more time to think them up.) (I want to be this version of me, I don’t want to be spoken to the way I’m spoken to. I’m more than my body, than the tiny, helpless mess of a man of a mouse.)

Witch Tip

If you utilize sigils or runes by writing them on sheets of paper and burning them, stain the paper with something for a little extra boost! Experiment with different stains. I personally enjoy staining with a mix of vanilla extract and Chai! The cinnamon from the Chai really adds a huge boost of energy. You can also add herbs and salts to the stain water as well!

anonymous asked:

How do i cleanse my room? I have sage to burn but I'm still new to witchcraft.


There’s many ways to cleanse your room, and I’d preform a sage cleanse, NOT SMUDGING. Smudging is selective to Native Americans, and most people preform sage cleansing over smudging because it’s disrespectful to the culture. 

But, besides that, I like to do a salt water wash, mixing warm moon water (water that sat out charging in moonlight over night), and sea salt and putting it in a spray bottle and spraying the outline of the room. A warning is the salt can stain walls, so be careful. Candle cleansing also works, though I don’t know much about that. I wish you luck though.


Missing (Saeyoung x MC fic) - Part 8

A/N: This is a short one~ I have to go to work today so please wait for the next update! ^^ thanks for reading this far!


You were awakened by soft knocks on your door.  Rubbing sleep away from your eyes, you briefly glanced at the wall clock, and it read 6:29 AM.  Judging from the salt stains on your face, you must have fallen asleep while crying last night.

The knocks came again, and you hurriedly sat up and tied your hair in an attempt to look presentable somehow.

“Come in!” you called out.

The door opened, and you were surprised to see your boss, Mr. Park, in the doorway, his hands in his coat pockets.  Once you made eye contact he gives you a small smile.  “Hi MC,” he greets, stepping inside the room and gently closing the door behind him. “Oh!  Mr. Park, you shouldn’t have bothered!” you tried to get out of bed, but he lifted a hand to stop you.  

“I just wanted to see how you are doing,” Mr. Park sat on the chair beside the hospital bed.  “I was surprised that you did not show up for work yesterday.  That was unlike you,” he then gave you a small smile again, which you returned in embarrassment.

“I’m really sorry, sir,” you implored, “I was….a lot has happened, and I also lost my phone,” you stammered, and Mr. Park chuckled lightly.  “No need to apologize.  I’d like to talk more about what happened, if you don’t mind…I need to explain this to HR, you see…”

“O-of course! I mean, no, I don’t mind,” you reply, feeling slightly embarrassed that your boss had to personally visit you.  Truth be told, you completely forgot to inform the office of your situation because of everything that happened.  You made a mental note to give him a small gift later for the inconvenience.

Mr. Park sighed in relief. “Thank you.  But you seem pale, MC.  I think a little morning sunshine would do you good, don’t you agree?”

You gave it some thought. That is true, you mused, I have not stepped out of the hospital room since yesterday.  You gave him a smile.  Why not.  I’ll just be going to the gardens for a stroll. “You’re right…I may just need a little bit of sunshine.  All right, could you kindly wait outside so I can change into something warmer?”

“Sure.  I’ll be waiting.” Mr. Park gave a slight nod and turned to exit the room.

As soon as the door closed, Mr. Park dipped his right hand inside his coat pocket, taking out his phone. Tapping the call out button, the phone rings at the other end.

“What? I’m busy,” A slightly annoyed voice came out from the phone, and Mr. Park’s eyes glinted maliciously, a grin forming at one corner of his mouth.

“I found her.”


Jumin had never thought that Rachmaninoff would become one of his greatest annoyances.

Grumbling to himself, he reluctantly stretched out his arm from the warmth of his blankets to reach out for his ringing phone without opening his eyes.  After a few failed attempts, his hand finally finds the phone and he opens his eyes slightly to see Jaehee’s face on the caller ID.

Tapping the “accept” button, he closed his eyes again and held the phone to his ear.  “What is it?” his voice came out throaty and hoarse; he cleared his throat quickly and continued, “Is there a problem?”

“Mr. Han, MC is missing.”

“What?!” Jumin abruptly sat up on his bed, holding the phone to his ear.

“I checked with the receptionist.  She went out to the gardens an hour ago,” Jaehee sighed at the other end of the line. “And the last visitor was Saeran at 11 last night.  I’m inclined to think Saeran took her with him, but I’ve been trying to contact him and he’s not picking up.”

Jumin pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, feeling an oncoming migraine.  He glances slightly at the bedside clock, which read 7:25. 

“Shall I call the police?” Jaehee paced inside the room, her stomach tied in knots with worry.

“No, not yet,” Jumin removes his blanket and tosses it aside, and then turns to sit at the edge of the bed. “It’s only been an hour.  Try searching for her within the facility; she may just have been tired being inside the room all the time.”

Jaehee sighs.  “You’re right. Okay, I’ll keep trying to contact Saeran and look for her.”

“Thank you, Assistant Kang. Keep me informed.”

“Of course, Mr. Han.”



A/N: Hi again guys! ^^ thank you for making it this far.  I still have so many scenes in my mind; if only I can put them to words a lot faster T__T

This is a short one, but I’m already halfway (I think?) through on the next chapter!  :)

Also: my stupid brain keeps imagining a sleepy Jumin //help T_T

Final note: I would like to send my heartfelt thanks to the people who sent their wonderful asks and messages/notes.  Thank you so very much!  You give me more confidence to continue writing and making art.  That means so much to me! ^///^

Part 7 is here!

Part 9 is up!

Caffeine Challenge

prompt: the descendant of a selkie falls in love with a gardener 

 Thanks to @caffeinewitchcraft and sorry for mucking around with the prompt!

Thora took a few cautious steps forwards. The sea was just there, so close she could smell it. There was nobody to tell her what to do. No home to go back to. No family to hide her salt-stained clothes from. She could sit and watch the waves for hours. She could follow the dolphins.

She laughed.

The salt air made her head buzz, like she had spent all day staking plants under the hot sun. She sprinted through the trees, branches whipping at her back as she vaulted trailing roots and splashed through the waves. She was up to her knees in a moment, spinning and laughing and trailing her hands through the water. She waded further in, catching her breath as the sea rose to waist level. This was good. This was right.

She took a deep breath and ducked under the water. Then she opened her eyes.

It was a different word. Shadowy, full of half-seen figures. Dust - was it dust? - spiralled through the water as if searching for sunlight. Cool currents beckoned her deeper, further from the shore, while warm currents lazily pulled her south, away from the forest and plains. They promised strange creatures and magical things.

She broke the surface and sucked air into her lungs, throwing her hair back from her face. It clung to her forehead in wet, springy tendrils. She leant backwards until the water was supporting her and spat water into the air in a high fountain, the way she had seen dolphins do.

Her family didn’t know what they were missing. How could anyone be scared of this? The openness, the peace and quiet. The sound of waves on the shore, and the smell of salt sticky in the air. How could they bring themselves to stay away? They could keep their stuffy gardens and their fear. She, Thora, would never go back to that life. She had the forest. She had the sea. She could live here forever, giddy on possibility and promise.

She closed her eyes, letting the last rays of spring sunlight warm her cheeks, and kicked her feet to stop the currents teasing her away. Her face was wet. Then something caught her attention and she stood up so suddenly that she forgot she was out of her depth, missed her footing and choked, emerging coughing and spluttering and staring at the shore.

There was someone there. 

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Old Soles

Used to be black
Turned salt-stained grey
Fraying tongues and
Non- aglet laces

Cracked bottoms and
Worn through toes
Holes, open seams and
Double-knot bows

Tied too tight
But fits too loose
I think it’s time
I buy new shoes

There is a small curl by the tragus of her right ear when the morning air is misty and the whole world smells like Beginning. The sun rises over the sea, moon paling.

The moon and the sea are in love, they say.

There are many great stories and many great poems about this, and when I look at the waves of her hair on my pillow, I understand.

I am moon-faced.
She is sea-salt-stained.

She moves in tides and I orbit around, I pull and I pull but I never get quite close enough to reach her surface with the tip of my toe.
And even though the moon wishes for nothing more, she must be terrified of the day they would finally touch. Would the sea escape earth’s shimmering atmosphere? Or would the moon crash down into the wide depths of her Beloved?
My skin craters in shivering anticipation.

The small curl by her ear laughs at me, “Why use such exorbitantly large metaphors? Comparing yourself to the moon? You’re just a half molten candle, don’t you see?” And I think, Yes, and I think, She is the staggering sun.

And I smile back at salt-stained, messy hair, at freckled planes of skin, at soft, sleepy sighs, and I know that it’s true.
She is the sea is the sun is the universe.
And I am merely human. And I am Icarus.
—  the moon and the sea are in love

“Lift the rudder to determine end play, rock it port to starboard to determine side play”

To check if spray is getting in the engine, she climbs inside the hull on a sunny day. If she sees light at the edges, she replaces the gaskets and latch. She keeps an eye on mating surfaces for drips, salt stains, weepage and ridges of crud. If she does absolutely nothing else, she looks at the exhaust risers and head gaskets. Vibration and settling can cause misalignment. She eschews strap hold-downs in favor of threaded rods and locknuts. She wraps her hair every night in a silk scarf.
She squeezes hoses. Soft, mushy, checked, discolored or shedding hoses can collapse under suction. It starves the engine. She knows that even stainless fasteners corrode. Crevice corrosion looks like streaks of rust spewing from fasteners. She removes, replaces, and rebeds them. She finds the cause of the wet core. She examines gelcoat for imperfections, particularly on leading edges: stem, keel, and chines. She repairs with epoxy.
She ensures shafts are centered on their bearings. A minor misalignment is multiplied by the length of the shaft. She checks the stuffing box and even the struts. Once sacrificial anodes lose half their weight (not size), she replaces them. If an anode is full-sized but looks like swiss cheese, it’s no good. She doesn’t paint them, ever.

Ocean house aesthetics:
  • Gryffindor: a tree-lined empty tropical beach reached by hiking through miles of green forest, bright-blue clear water, exploring the forest around it and swimming our far to larger rocks and snorkeling in the warm water, returning to shore to dry off around a small fire
  • Slytherin: rough, dark blue and white frothy water with waves crashing on a dark sandy shore, ice cold ocean water and air, daring people to race into the water and come out shivering, picking up sea glass and telling ghost stories as the sun goes down, drying off in the back seat of a car and heading off salt-stained to a black-tie event
  • Ravenclaw: still, still, dark water with a beach made of shells and cliffs, sitting and watching the water with a notebook in hand, taking photographs of the water and staring out at the horizon while a storm comes in, diving into the water to feel how old the sea is, reading a water stained classic
  • Hufflepuff: driving an old wooden sedan onto a golden beach with warm frothy water and tidal pools, splashing in soft waves and taking Polaroids, racing down the beach and falling into sunset-colored water, building giant sand castles, a summer picnic in white loose clothes with peanut butter sandwiches and bubbly lemonade

The Von Kossa stain is used for demonstrating calcium, however, it is the calcium salts that are stained black while the cytoplasm yields pink. It’s diagnostic purpose is to identify Hypercalcinosis deposits that can form in the kidney’s and other areas of the body.

*Thank you all for helping me get to 500 followers! Let’s continue to spread the love of histology and other fields of science for all of those yearning to learn more!

Living With Cybertronians

Imagine a Youtube channel about Volunteers that live with Cybertronian refugees in habitats around the world. These places are reserves for the protections of the robotic organisms and their human hosts. [Like Jon Watson’s volunteer work in African reserves and ranches.]

Imagine videos of the weekly washings. The adventures of trying to get Crosshairs to submit to his wash, and Hound lounging around happily under a spray of water. The perils of trying to find Prime, who always conveniently goes on one of his walk abouts when the volunteers are supposed to give a scrub, or Bumblebee begging for more wax and buffing. No one trains the volunteers better in how to spit-n-wash a bot than Knock Out, who also gives sage medical advice of how to look out for rust and salt stains.

Imagine videos of volunteers loading up into all the bots for their weekly excursion with the natives, and helping them keep up their human socialization skills while maintaining disguise. Don’t try this with Megatron or Starscream, they are the worst and most ill behaved. Soundwave is always too eager, but never in company with the Autobots.

Imagine videos that show Cybertronians volunteer for places around the world. Not just jobs that may employ their skills as warriors, but videos that show what gentle giants they can be. Videos of Bulkhead and the other Wreckers helping clear out areas that suffer after natural disasters, and remove debris.

Can you imagine yet workshops with Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Knock Out explaining basic Cybertronian maintenance, health problems? Picture if you will Ironhide and Breakdown suffering as test subjects for the workshops.

Imagine the rescue work they could all be employed into. Such as Arcee and Elita helping find victims of tsunamis, hurricanes, tornados, cyclones, and avalanches. Picture Breakdown working on African big-animal refugees and helping in the transportation of large animals that are sick and wounded, or Barricade and Bumblebee chasing off poachers. Can you see everyone help with conservation and environmental efforts that their size and spark are just too perfect?

Imagine videos by volunteers showing the use of large lasers to help Soundwave stimulate and exercise the Minicons. Imagine the terror and thrill of volunteer’s face when Laserbeak takes them off on a short flight, or Ravage playing with other big kitties, even if they are organic.

Imagine the brief commentary and informative blurbs about safety with Cybertronians. Don’t touch unless touched, do not treat them like objects, everyone has a unique personality, and try to wear contrasting clothes for the environment to help prevent accidently squishings.

Sit back and imagine watching new videos of late-night conversations and walk abouts with Optimus Prime, who meanders around and makes sure that everyone is quietly okay, including the Decepticons. The videos and commentary of his brief philosophical discussions.

Imagine the joy of Cybertronians, who have lost their home, making our world their home and helping to preserve it and add to the enrichment of our world.

  1. Fold your tees the right way
  2. Belt knots are a super easy way to bring some fun to your outfit
  3. Prevent a sport coat from getting wrinkled in a suitcase, fold it inside out
  4. Get makeup on your clothes, baby wipes to the rescue
  5. Get our red wine stains by soaking the stain in white wine then washing.  A better solution in my opinion, cover the stain in salt and leave it overnight, then wash it in cold water the next day.
  6. Double your closet space
  7. Having the underwire of your bra poke into you is one of the most frustrating things in the world But you don’t have to get rid
  8. self explanatory
  9. winds works wonders on patent leather
  10. If you spray the underside of your skirt and tights you are wearing it will prevent static cling 
Sugar - a secret Santa fic for Hannah!

@hannahberrie surprise! It’s me, your super late Santa! sorry for the delay, I had the hardest time getting away from my family to get this written :P But I hope you like it! I went with police officer Kristoff and waitress Anna <3


It was summer the first time he saw her, and there were fake sunflowers on the tables of the little diner. He’d been going to the diner every day for nearly a year to get his morning coffee, and there had never been anything on the tables except napkins, salt & pepper shakers, and stains from hundreds of coffee cups. The diner was a fixture, one of unchanging the landmarks of the little town. Its neon sign had hummed and buzzed one main street for as long as Kristoff could remember—it had been there when he was a kid, newly adopted, shy and wide-eyed, and he’d been taken there for ice cream. It had been there during high school, when he’d avoided it because it was always crowded with other students on awkward dates. And it had been there when he’d come home, after his training and after his year-and-a-half of working in the city and after he’d nearly lost faith in humanity.

“Morning, officer!” She was new—not one of the gum-popping high schoolers who usually waitressed during the summer, but still fresh-faced and bright-eyed, all red hair and big smile. Her name tag told him ‘Hi! My name is Anna!’ “What can I get you?” Anna asked.

“Coffee,” he said shortly.

“Milk? Sugar?”


“Seriously? No sugar?”


“Are you sure you can drink that stuff without sugar?”

He tried to frown at her, but her expression of comical horror was too much and a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure.”

She brought him sugar anyway.

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