christan

Identifying witches

An open witch: just enter their house there are like 80 candles and rocks and stars and leaves and shit everywhere you are just tripping over it

A kitchen witch: their kitchen is hands down the coolest part of the house with awesome spices and organisation and deco and their house smells amazing

Hedge witch: check for a dehydrator or massive amounts of parchment paper

An urban witch: their living space is covered in the most random, seemingly irrelevant stuff that they are super attached to

Pagan witch: altars to different deities everywhere and so many pentacles everywhere why is there one in the toilet damn what

Christian witch: house is covered in fairies and Angels in paintings and statues it’s like what

Neo-pagan: their gem stone collection can only be rivalled by the state rock museum ( either that or they are a Steven universe fan :p )

A closet witch: check the drawers for books Check the drawers man

Satanic witch: lots of silver on their altar and most of their closet is black or sexy.

Gothic witch: their house IS black and sexy and full of bones

A spoonie witch: their athame is in the kitchen and there is random candle wax around the house and you just have no idea what happened but this one corner of the house has great energy

Sigil witch: why is there a sigil on every napkin what is life who are you

Tarot focused: they have like 80 tarot decks and half haven’t even been opened and they are super defensive about

A witching: starter kits, specialty candles, and they have a few books on Wicca they bought accidentally

Sea witch: there are shells everywhere and it constantly smells like fresh sea air but you can’t find the source

A long time witch: THIS AMOUNT OF JARS HAS NEVER BEEN NECESSARY IN THE HISTORY OF MAN

10

England: Lincoln

-for more  of my UK shots and more travel: 

travel britain european travel world travel UK travel London travel

Don't bother with faces [AU]

Pairing - Jason Dean (J.D) x Female Reader

Word Count - 577

A/N - this is kinda shit sorry 

J.D stepped off his motorbike, taking in the new scenery around him. It was your stereotypical high school, and he should know, seeing as he’s been to at least fifty.

He glanced around at all of the students. Most in little groups with their friends, laughing and talking about the latest gossip. A sigh escaped his lips. Nothing was different. Everything was the same.

He kind of missed Veronica. The thrill and chase she had given him. It was a bummer when she managed to shoot him down and defuse the bomb. Oh well. Maybe he’ll try again some other time.

The boy walked up the steps to his new school, his black trenchcoat flowing like a cape behind him. Maybe students were looking and pointing. He didn’t care. He’d be gone in a week.

That’s when he saw her.

She was sitting under a tree with a book in her hand. Her forehead was crinkled in concentration. Her Y/H/C hair was practically shining in the sunlight.

His breath hitched and his heart seemed to be a million miles an hour. Oh no. Not another girl. Not another Veronica.

As if sensing his anxiety and panic, she looked up, making eye contact with him. J.D quickly turned his head and walked into the school building. He was just going to have to avoid her.

____

The day seemed to go by slower than normal. He had fallen asleep in third period, gotten a detention. The teacher already hated him. Just the regular cycle.

By fifth period, J.D was practically itching to leave the school. He hated doing all of this. Sitting in a small classroom and forced to work.

Sixth period came along. He thought about skipping, running straight out of the back doors. Then she sat beside him.

“Hi,” Her voice was soft and welcoming. “I saw you this morning and figured that you’re new.”

J.D nodded, trying to be as distant as he could.

She smiled and stuck out her hand. “I’m Y/N.” After waiting a few seconds for him to shake it, she slowly pulled it back. His copy of Moby Dick shined into the corner of her eye.

“Moby-Dick? That’s what I’m reading.” Y/N said. “It’s one of my favorites. When did you start reading?”

J.D sighed. This girl wasn’t going to leave him alone. “About a month ago, back at my old school.”

“Where did you go?” She asked.

“Westerburg High.” He replied.

Y/N nodded for a few minutes. “Would you have happened to have met anyone named Heather McNamara?”

“Yeah, I think I heard her name once of twice.” J.D was confused on how Y/N knew Heather. Wait. Did she know Veronica?

A smile stretched across her face. “That’s my cousin.”

Oh shit. Of course it is.

J.D plastered a fake smile on his face to try and hide his now decreasing panic. Veronica hadn’t told anyone. That was good.

For the rest of the class period, Y/N kept managing to find new things to talk about. At first, it annoyed J.D to his core. This girl just really knew how to make his stomach flutter and he hated it.

But then, after a while, it was nice.

She wasn’t like Veronica. She wasn’t gloomy and depressed. Her outlook on life was the most optimistic thing he’d ever heard. This girl still had hope. He had never seen that before.

He liked it.