or sell em



These are super fun to make and they smell friggggin awesome and look super cute. awesome for rituals and for decoration and for smelling awesome, could be a cool gift, could sell em’ or just whack this tutorial straight in your grimoire for later use, you name it kiddie winks. IMA TEACH U 

1) PICK YO SELF SOME LAVENDER! if you don’t have lavender in your garden, you need to get some. but in the mean time, head over to your local botanical gardens or a park area or a shop or your friends place, anywhere where you can get yourself some freshly picked lavender. Begin with an uneven number of stalks, the bigger the bundle the bigger your wand.

2) GETCHO SELF SOME CUTE ASS PURPLE RIBBBON, and tie it just below the flowers. 

3) THEN UR GONNA WANNA fold the stalks down evenly over the flower head bundle.

4) WEAVE YO’ RIBBON over and under each stalk, around and around, until you have enclosed the entire flower head.

5) TIE OFF YO RIBBON at the bottom.

6) GIVE YO FINISHED WAND a roll between your palms to release that wonderful lavender fragrance1111111!!!!



- @indigo-amethyst

  • Me a few months ago: haha the denny's tumblr blog is so funny and relatable!
  • Me now: Denny's is a company that actively exploits its employees whilst feigning the persona of a relatable symbol on the internet to appeal to generations of all ages, particularly younger ones, to consume their product.

anonymous asked:

Complete this conservation: "Wait.. you gave him a mixtape? Dude, you’re a dinosaur.”

“Wait.. you gave him a mixtape? Dude, you’re a dinosaur!” Dean grimaces as Claire’s laughter titters through the phone. Every time he thinks he and her might be on the same level, she says or does something to make the age difference between them 100 times more evident.

“Where did you even find cassettes?” Claire asks incredulously. “Did someone leave a Delorean around or something?”

“Shut up.” Dean grumbles, no heat in his voice. He wedges the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he attempts to remove the Impala’s serpentine belt. “Amazon sells ‘em. They’re not antiques.

“Close enough,” Claire snorts. “I bet you had to hold the tape recorder up to the radio too.” Dean’s frown deepens because, yes, that is exactly what he did. He huffs into the phone as he slips the belt over the alternator and tightens the bolt. 

“Enough about me,” Dean sighs. “How’s school?”

“Doesn’t start for four months. Don’t change the subject,” she says. “I think it’s sweet actually.”

“Sweet?” Dean’s hand freezes mid-turn of the screwdriver. 

“Yeah, it’s really sweet for you to make Castiel a mixtape and put all that effort,” she says. “Romantic, too.” Dean feels his ears heat at the word. 

“It’s… It’s not… We’re…”

“Riiight,” Claire drawls out sarcastically. “You should totally make him another one and play it while holding a boombox over your head.”


“Like in ‘Say Anything.’“

“Claire, it’s not-”

“’Cause, y’know… you’re in loooove with him.” Dean can’t stop the shy smile from crossing his face.

“Goodbye, Claire,” he mumbles.

“… and he loves you, too!” Claire shouts as Dean hits the end call button. 

π day

Kent is…confused.

He’s been confused for most of the past two years, it’s true, but he’s more confused that morning than he is usually. Because literally every surface in the kitchen is covered in pie. The top of the microwave, the top of the fridge, every inch of counter space, the breakfast table, the top of Kit’s water jug, and as Kent walks into the kitchen, two more pies are pulled from the oven.

“Uh, honey? What are you doing?” Kent asks.

“There’s a bake sale, publicity thing,” Bitty says, scanning the kitchen for somewhere to put the newest pies. “All the SOAPs are supposed to make somethin’ and we’re gonna sell ‘em at the rink around practice. All proceeds go to charity etc.”

“Uh huh,” Kent says, glancing through the kitchen door to find the dining table is also covered. “And you made this many because…”

“Because I’m not going to shirk my responsibilities,” Bitty says. “Unlike some people I know who are going to buy some cookies from the Harris Teeter.”

Kent blinks at him. “You know, I don’t think we have those in Vegas.”

Bitty waves him away as if this is inconsequential, and goes to place the pies on the coffee table. This is where Kent finds Kit, curled up under the entertainment centre with huge eyes like she’s terrified of whatever’s happening. Kent doesn’t particularly blame her.

“Don’t you have to be at work?” Kent tries. One of the pies is bright green, and that’s something they’ll have to address in a moment.

“I told Joe he was in charge for the day,” Bitty replies airily. Kent internally debates the wisdom of Bitty leaving his ornery line cook in charge of the diner for the day but doesn’t say anything.

“And is that pie green?” Kent asks.

“Of course it’s green,” Bitty says, pulling a carton of heavy whipping cream from the fridge and a bowl from the cabinet.

“Because it’s key lime,” Kent says. He says it as pointedly as he can.

Bitty huffs. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Mr Parson–”

“I’m implying that you stole the limes from our neighbour’s tree again and that the man works for the mob and is going to have us killed,” Kent says.

“If he doesn’t want me to use them, he can have his tree trimmed so that it doesn’t cross our fence like I’ve requested thirteen times,” Bitty says, his nose in the air as he starts on the whipped cream.

Kent looks around at the minimum two dozen pies covering the main floor of their house, their terrified cat, and his boyfriend furiously whipping cream.

“Baby, what the hell got into you?” Kent asks.

Bitty huffs. “If you don’t like it, you can take it up with the Aces organisation who decided to host a bake sale fundraiser on Pi Day.”

Kent lets it sit a moment, and then slowly dissolves into fits of giggles. Bitty looks affronted right up until Kent cups his face and kisses him.

“You are an absolute dork, and I love you very much,” Kent informs him, kissing him again quickly. While Bitty makes indignant noises, Kent snapchats their kitchen, dining room, and living room first to Swoops, Hearts, Jeff, and Elsa, and then to his story. He posts it on the diner’s Instagram for Bitty’s sake, and then kisses him again.

“I’ll help you get these boxed up,” he says, digging out Bitty’s bakery boxes from one of the cupboards.

“The key lime one can stay here,” Bitty says.

“So you can leave it on the mob boss’s doorstep like a ransom note?” Kent asks. Bitty just hums.

This is a deleted scene/filler type scene from a much longer PB&J WIP I’ve got around somewhere, that will eventually be entitled “Is There Somewhere?” but only after I’ve finished writing it. Anyway. Happy Pi Day folks

Yes, Lord, it’s always the same…old men or bright-eyed youth… It’s always easier to sell ‘em some shit than it is to tell them the truth.
—  Shel Silverstein 

I’ve heard snippets of the role switcharoos happening between the characters, especially between Flug && Black Hat so here’s my ideas for Alt!Black Hat:
Alt!Black Hat is obviously a Dr Flug version.

• He creates eldritch horrors / monsters for evil villains to use, rather than inventions

• These monsters are bloody cool; sharp teeth, super strength, all that jazz that he could come up with – but they either end up acting like 505, undisciplined, or that BH just wants to keep them instead of selling ‘em

• He has the same aesthetic as original Black Hat but he just wears a black labcoat and a red shirt with a picture of a top hat torn in half (editable, just a spur of a moment thing i came up with)

• The evilest thing he could probably think of would be fizzy drinks or those popping candy things

• He puts sketches of his monsters around his laboratory (?) and his most favourite ones he takes selfies with

will i ever stop drawing ffxv shit? NOT LIKELY

anyway i was bullied by my friends to draw more cheebs and it ended up kinda charm-like so i made them to look more like charms, maybe ill sell them sometime in the future once i have some $$$ and time and knowledge how to manage charm selling

for now theyre stickers on redbubble