Take salt packets from restaurants and fast food places and place them in your bag or pocket. They’ll act as easy and tidy ways to have salt for ritual cleansings when you’re out and about.
Use old pill travel cases or snuff boxes to store small amounts of herbs that are important to you (like sage, rosemary, motherwort, or lavender) to act as a charm and a source of herbs at any time of the day or night.
Enchant your necklaces or rings so that they will guide you safely whenever you wear them.
Place “find me” sigils on your pet’s collar to assist you in finding them when they get lost.
Keep a small jam jar in your bag at all times, so that if you find an interesting stone or a rare herb or something else that would help your Craft, you have somewhere to keep it until you get home.
Keep a notepad in your bag, and use cardboard to cut out a small gingerbread-figure template. Use this template to cut out paper poppets from your notebook, and use them in your Craft when you need a poppet in a hurry.
When you feel powerful emotions, write down the name of that emotion at the time you feel it and pour all your Will and strength into the words as you write them. Use these slips in magick for a lot of extra oomph.
Carry a small book of matches and a tealight candle in a little wax paper packet, and use them for ad hoc spells and summonings when you’re out and about.
Keep a pair of compasses and a protractor in your bag, and you’ll always be able to make a perfect pentacle at any time. Remember that the internal angle of the points is 36° and the internal angle of the pentagon in the middle is 108°. Put some blutack on the compass’ spike to prevent it stabbing your bag.
Line any small fabric bag with wax paper or greaseproof paper, and it can be used to hold dried herbs, gem fragments, and many other small objects or substances. They make excellent spell pouches.
Keep a small amount of dried fruit, nuts, and dried mushrooms (and dried meat if that’s appropriate for you) in a sealed bag for usage as offerings if you go to a new location and want to introduce yourself to the local spirits and wights. They’ll appreciate the gift, but make sure you change it regularly to prevent rotting.
Bless your spices so that everything you cook with them is infused with a little healing magick. A great way to maintain your health and help avoid colds and flu.
Amazon is a really great place to buy things in bulk or get items you could otherwise not really acquire, sometimes directly from witchy sellers! I shop from there all the time. These are some things I recommend:
(These are prices and items current at the date of my posting. I will update later if needed. Also, if you like this, please let me know, I’m thinking about starting a website/store for these and more items.)
Apparently, Teddiursa is a very sticky pokémon. According to the pokédex, it is always soaked in honey. More than that, apparently Teddiursa is capable of making its own honey. Teddiursa is very clearly not a bee, so how does this happen?
If we want to understand how Teddiursa makes honey, we should first learn how bees make honey! The honey process starts at a flower: bees fly around and gather pollen and nectar, which are important resources for the hive (and, of course, they also aid in the flower’s reproduction). Flower nectar is essentially sugar water: It’s made of sucrose mixed with water. Bees “collect” the nectar by sucking it up with their tube like tongue called a proboscis (see Beautifly), and storing it in a second stomach especially for honey.
This is were the magic happens. Stomachs, ours included, are full of chemical compounds called enzymes which allows us to break down, digest, and get nutrients out of food. Bees have a special enzyme, called invertase, that they produce in their stomach. This enzyme takes the sucrose in nectar, and breaks it up into smaller sugars like fructose and glucose. Their stomachs will break down over 95% of the sucrose.
After the nectar has been digested this way, the bees do something kind of strange. They regurgitate the honey onto the walls of the hive. They do this so it can dry out, and the water can evaporate so it becomes the thick, sticky honey that we all know and love. Once the nectar contains less than 20% water, the bees will seal it in wax like a ziploc bag and store it away as a food source for the rest of the year. Making honey is a bee’s equivalent of canning food: to keep it fresh and preserve it for long periods of time.
The stereotype that bears love honey is actually true: they are attracted to beehives and raid them often. Most bears don’t go for the honey, though. Bees are a great source of protein and easy to eat. Bee larvae, in particular, is very high in fat and protein which is super nutritious for bears. The honey is just a sweet bonus.
Most “artificial” honey sold in stores is just sugary corn syrup with flavorings and added colors. It is fairly easy to synthesize real honey though, even if you’re not a bee. As long as you have access to the enzyme invertase, you can take nectar and break it down into fructose and glucose, and then evaporate the water out to form honey. The hardest part about the process is gathering the nectar. Individual bees carry about 40 milligrams of nectar at a time, and flowers don’t contain that much to begin with.
So is it feasible that Teddiursa can produce its own honey? Possibly. And the pokédex might tell us exactly how: Teddiursa, being a bear, is covered in fur. Like you see in many bees, a good fuzz is extra effective in picking up pollen and nectar from plants. So Teddiursa might somehow make the honey in its own pelt, by excreting invertase through its skin like sweat, so the pollen and nectar that gets collected on its fur can digest and be converted into honey. Perhaps it even gets the invertase from all the bees it eats! This also explains why Teddiursa is seemingly always covered in honey, even if you just gave it a bath. And if you see it rolling around in your garden, it’s just gathering up more pollen and nectar for its honey.
Teddiursa makes its own honey by collecting flowers’ nectar in its fur. It’s skin secretes the enzyme invertase, which digests the nectar, and once the water is evaporated out, turns it into honey.
Last thing worth mentioning– the first line of Teddiursa’s pokédex entry. It says that Teddiursa’s crescent pattern glows when it finds honey! We’ve done several entries about bioluminescence before (Watchog, Starmie, Lanturn), but I thought I would mention that bioluminescence in those animals is commonly used as a form of communication! So when a Teddiursa finds a delicious Combee hive, it lights up to say “hey friends, there’s honey over here!”
I also learned a bit of history/mythology the other day! Sellene is one of the primordial gods in Greek history, and Endymion was her lover who was killed. They are also Rowan’s cousins, who are both mentioned in EoS! Sorry, my inner nerd.
Summary: It’s been months since the war that changed every aspect of life in Erilea. Aelin Galathynius has survived against all odds and now is the rightful queen of Terrasen, but there are demons that still haunt both her and her court. And when she sends her king to deal with the rising tensions in Eyllwe, those demons begin their assault on everyone’s mind. And in the midst of it all, another surprise will either be the making or breaking of Aelin.
Warnings: Mentions of rape. Suicidal thoughts, torture, insomina, ptsd, depression.
If Rowan Whitethorn
Galathynius didn’t get something to eat in about two minutes, he was going to
end someone’s life. He glanced around at his companions, who all seemed to be
sharing his feelings of coldness, tiredness, and hunger. He’d been on much
tougher war campaigns, ones where they’d had to abandon their horses because
the snow was too deep, or the ones where they’d gone days without rest or food,
but somehow this one was fraying his nerves much more than those ever had.
Perhaps it was what Aelin had awoken him with
Rowan shook his head, and spurred his horse a bit, hissing as the
animal clomped into a large puddle he hadn’t noticed. Aedion, who had been
riding unusually quite beside him, laughed dryly.
“Not enough sleep last few nights, Your Majesty?” The
male’s smarmy grin was enough for Rowan to get what he was suggesting.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, without
looking back at him. Aedion made a sound of protest, and sped up his horse to
catch up with Rowan. “Never mind that,” he said, the words coming out with a
puff of steam in the cold air. The golden male looked back towards the rest of
the party behind him, a smiling catching on his face as he saw Gavriel looking
miserable at the back.
They’d only brought three lords, the ones Aelin trusted, and three guards. But the lords, the finicky bastards, had insisted they
bring a few of their servants with them. But still it was a small party,
considering the task Aelin had sent him with; heal the bonds, ease people’s
minds. Aedion had insisted they bring more, but Rowan had only said that more
would look too much like an invasion.
“You know,” Aedion whispered. “It’ll take us two months to get
there if we don’t hurry our pace.” He
was right, they’d miss their ship if they didn’t hurry. The plan was to ride to
Ilium, then board on of the ship’s bound for Eyllwe. Rowan nodded his assent,
the crown on his head heavy, and he raised a hand to steady it.
“Do I really have to
wear this the entire journey?” He hissed, snapping his gaze to his general, who
only laughed. “I suppose so.” Rowan braced himself as a wicked grin spread
across Aedion’s tan face. “But, if you had agreed to taking a carriage—” Rowan
groaned and let his head droop a bit. “You’d only have to wear it outside!”
“I am certainly not riding in a carriage like some polished
little prince.” Aedion laughed, his eyes sparkling. Rowan felt another pang of
hunger strike his belly, and he grabbed the pocket watch Aelin had thrown at
him as he had been packing. It was nearly an hour past noon. But Aedion was
right, they needed to pick up their pace, and, as Rowan glanced around, he
found no place to stop. Rowan huffed. “We’ll stop in an hour.” Aedion nodded,
and shouted the words back towards the group behind them. For a while the only
sound was that of the clip-clop of horses’ hooves and the snapping of the
silver-and-green banners in the wind, then a grumble interrupted it. Rowan
snapped his eyes to Aedion in question, and the male blushed.
“I’m hungry,” he explained.
Rowan rolled his eyes but reached over to his saddle bag
with one hand, unclipping it and tossing it towards Aedion. “Aelin probably
stuck some gross confectionery in there.”
Aedion laughed as he rifled through it, shouting his
victory when he yanked out a small wax paper bag. “Why,” Aedion began as he
popped what looked like a piece of chocolate into his mouth, “does she shove
this stuff in here if she knows you aren’t going to eat it?”
Rowan shrugged in
answer and scanned the road before them. The towering pines on either side of
the road created quite the image; each dusted with last night’s fallen snow,
the needles whispering in the faint wind. There was a snicker behind him that
turned into a full guffaw, and Rowan raised his brows at Aedion, then saw what
he was looking at…
“Oh gods,” he groaned, a blush heating his face. Aelin—
wicked and cruel Aelin had slid a book into his bag as well. He remembered that
particular book well. It was a copy of one of Aelin’s favorite collections of
poems. If you could call them poems, and not just explicit short stories.
“Why the hell do you have this?” he said after another
minute of laughter. Rowan only shook his head. “Blame your queen, General.”
Aedion chuckled, “She reads this smut?” Rowan fixed him
with a look of disbelief. “You’ve no idea.”
You minx, he said to
Hmm, did you
find my book?
Yes, but, as a matter of fact, Aedion, found your book, he growled.
There was a pause, then,
Oh. I hope he enjoyedit.
Sitting at the table
in her chambers, breakfast spread before her, Aelin scanned the paper before
her, trying desperately to quell her disappointment at what she was reading.
Sellene and I have been trying feverishly to
calm the many who think the Whitethorn’s aren’t appropriate rulers, and I am
sad to tell you that we may have to forfeit this rule. Or perhaps, you and my
dear cousin could come to Doranelle to speak on our behalf, we need more
influence than the few decrees you’ve sent. With Maeve dead, centuries of
tradition are disintegrating, and we need your help. There has been no violence
to speak of, but we fear that it may arise. I am aware of the things going on
in Erilea, but this is a plea, if only so we can keep this from escalating.
Aelin sighed heavily. She couldn’t leave to go to Wendlyn,
not for the next few months at least, and she couldn’t spare anyone to go
either. The tension in the kingdom had been steadily rising since the War, and
it seemed it was at its tipping point. She scrubbed her face with a hand, then
a few hard knocks on the door interrupted her, and she glanced towards the
young girl who was pouring her a cup of tea. “Get that, please.”
scurried off with a quick bow, and Aelin adjusted the sleeves of her tunic as
she heard the two sets of footsteps returning. It had been three weeks since
Rowan had left, and she figured she had gotten maybe two whole nights of rest
collectively. Maybe it was the nightmares that chased her from sleep, or the
cold that had seeped into her bones. Aelin tipped back her head and sighed.
“You look like shit.”
Aelin righted herself to glare at Fenrys, whose tan face
was serious. “Nice to see you, too, Fen. I’ve been well, how about you?”
didn’t smile as he pulled out a chair at the end of the table, helping himself
to a plate of potatoes and sausage.
“I’m serious, Aelin,” he said. “Are you
Aelin rolled her eyes and braced an arm on the table, digging
her fork into a piece of toast. “Is there a reason you’re here so early,
Fenrys?” She said rather snappishly.
The male raised a groomed brow in her
direction, but shook his head, and fished something of his pocket, “This came a
little bit ago.” He tossed a sealed envelope across the table, and she caught
it with a hand. Suddenly, the scent of pine and snow and Rowan filled her, and
a smile brightened her face. “Rowan,” she breathed.
She looked away from the sealed letter and towards Fenrys,
raising a brow. “Why not just have a servant deliver this?” Fenrys looked out
the window, his hands fidgeting with his fork. “Fenrys,” she growled. He winced
a bit and met her eyes again. “Lysandra wanted me to check on you, she said you
hadn’t been sleeping, and that you wouldn’t talk to her about it—”
Aelin bristled and clenched her fork a bit tighter. “And
she said it might be good to talk to someone else…” Fenrys shifted in his seat,
poking at the food on his plate. Aelin knew they were only trying to help, but
It was as simple as that.
They had no way of knowing what it had
been like inside that coffin, or inside that damned pit Maeve had kept her in.
And she didn’t think she could ever tell them. Fenrys knew most of what had
happened simply because he’d been there, and Rowan… She’d told him only what
There were some things that could only escape the binds she kept
them in during her nightmares. And the things that had happened when she’d
faced Erawan on the battle field… “I can’t talk about it Fen. I-,” she paused,
considering what she was about to say. “I won’t talk about it.”
Fenrys nodded sadly and stood. “I have days like that too,
but you can’t let it sit inside and grow into even worse monstrosities. We
can’t let what happened to us defeat us after we’ve already survived it. You
survived, Majesty, don’t forget that. And don’t forget that surviving isn’t the
same thing as living.” With that, he left.
Aelin braced her
elbows on the table, looking at her half-eaten breakfast in disgust. She’d told
Rowan once that he made her want to live— not just survive. And he did. Every
day, but it seemed that ever since she’d been freed from that hellhole, she’d
been going through the motions.
She was Aelin Galathynius and she had survived
Maeve, she had survived a fate that the very gods had predestined her for. But
she was tired of just surviving. Perhaps she had forgotten those words she’d
told her mate all those months ago.
Fenrys was lost in thought as he wandered down the hall
towards his rooms, but as the ever-changing scent of Lysandra met his nose, he
was drug out of his reverie.
“Did you talk to her?” Lysandra practically
shouted as he neared her.
“I did my best, but,” he sighed. “This is something
she has to be willing to do.”
Lysandra frowned, but nodded. “Before Rowan left,
he told me to keep an eye on her.” She dropped her voice, and glanced around
the empty hall. “He said her nightmares had gotten worse, and that she wasn’t
even telling him what was going on.”
Lysandra scrubbed her face with a small
hand. “I’m worried.” She said finally, and Fenrys nodded his agreement. “There’s
quite a lot going on, maybe after everything’s settled in Eyllwe and in
Doranelle, the stress will ease,” he said after a moment. “Maybe,” Lysandra
Aelin had forced herself to finish her meal before asking
for the table to be cleared. Now, lying atop the covers in her bed, she smiled
as she carefully unfolded the parchment, Rowan’s scent still clinging to the
I miss you. It is hard being so far away from
you, Fireheart. By the time you get this letter, I’ll be on the ship, but for
now, I’m lying in my dreadfully uncomfortable bed in the nicest inn Ilium could
offer, wishing you were here. Unfortunately, I think the further we get from
each other, the harder it is to get clear messages, so while I’m on the ship,
you may have some silence. But I promise when I get to Eyllwe I’ll write more.
And, I am unashamed to tell you that I have read a few of your little poems. They’ve
giving me a few ideas, actually, especially the one atop page 55.
Aelin made a mental note to look that one up.
from your sinful literature, I’d like you to know how amazing Ilium is. This
city is flourishing, and as are all the others we passed through on the way
here. Aelin, when I get back, I think we should go around and visit the towns
and villages again. Not just for their sake, but for ours as well. I think it
would do us both good to see what we’ve done. The people are healing, from the
War, and from the past. It’s inspiring. This morning, after we arrived, I went
down to the temple to pray, and to look around. It has become a place of
reverence again. You’d be honored, my love.
He went on to discuss the many happenings of their week and
a half of travels, and of course, the topics he had decided to discuss in
Eyllwe, but towards the end…. Aelin reread the last few paragraphs a few times.
this a cowardly way of doing things, but I wanted to do this in a letter, if
only because you cannot out right refuse the written word. I know there are
things you aren’t talking about, with me, with Lys, with anyone. And I know you
need time, I am prepared to give you the rest of your life if need be, but
Fireheart, you can’t internalize these things. You can’t keep it in. It’ll
destroy you. I know from personal experience.
You told me
once that you can’t talk about the things that have happened to you. You told
me that there was a rage. But that rage does not turn me away. I am not going
to turn away. You’re my mate. My carranam. My queen and wife. And I love you
more than anything in this damned world and in the next. And if you can’t ever
talk about what happened. Then please just tell me what your feeling, Aelin.
Please. You are not alone in this recovery process. You are never alone. No
matter if I am thousands of miles away, my heart is with you, Fireheart.
She didn’t realize she was crying until a tear slipped down
her face and onto the paper, smearing Rowan’s messy scrawl. Aelin set the paper
aside shakily and rolled onto her back. They were right. Painfully right. She
had covered everything up. Had buried it beneath false smiles and sarcastic
Her mental health hadn’t been something she had even considered for
the past six months. She had been so focused on her kingdom, and the wedding,
and treaties and decrees and all the other bullshit that she had shoved away all the pain and
sorrow and utter devastation at what had been done to her.
But they were wrong about one thing. There was no talking about it. Aelin didn’t
know what would happen if she did. It was something so revolting and
destructive. That damn pit of memories. Aelin covered her face with a trembling
hand, pressing her palm into her eyes until she saw nothing but black.
Fenrys was about two seconds away from slamming the
petulant little guard’s face into the wall. “Let me repeat myself, I am one of
the queen’s blood-sworn. Let me enter,” he growled to the now-shaking male. “B-but
I am n-not supposed to let anyone i-in,” he stammered, glancing between Fenrys
and Connall nervously.
“We pose the queen no harm; we just have matters to
discuss.” Con’s even voice seemed to soothe the man, and he stepped aside.
Fenrys refrained from glaring at the man. “If she lights your asses on fire,
don’t you blame me.” He grumbled.
Fenrys eased open the door, scanning the entryway as he stepped
in. “Aelin,” he called softly. When there was no response, he and Connall
walked in further, down the few steps that led to the main bedroom.
on the bed, seemingly asleep. Her small weight barely made a dent in the large
bed, and Fenrys exchanged a glance with his brother. Together, they approached
the bed on near silent feet.
Faintly, Fenrys could hear her breath, but she should
have heard them enter, at least she should have heard them arguing in the hall.
“Your Majesty?” Connall whispered, concerning edging his voice. Fenrys frowned
when she did not respond, and reinforced his shield as her reached out a
tentative hand to brush her arm. Aelin jerked up, a ball of flame flaring to
life in her palm.
“What the hell!” She shouted, the flame extinguishing much
to Fenrys delight. There were dried paths of tears on her cheeks, but as he
caught sight of the opened letter to her right, he decided not to ask about
“We came to—”
“Check on me,” Aelin snarled. Connall gave Fenrys a
pleading look, but he only shook his head. Their queen was right.
patted down her hair and snatched up her letter from the bed.
“I’m not some
toddler you must keep tabs on,” she said as she refolded her letter, and then
leaned forward to slide it into the drawer of the nightstand.
hopped of the bed and began walking towards her closet.
“Get out,” she said
flatly. Fenrys felt the words as if they were a slap to the face, and from the
hurt look in Con’s face, he felt the same.
“Aelin, please, if this is about
Rowan—,” Connell was interrupted by a viscous, cold laugh, one that made ice
shoot into every vein in Fenrys body.
“You think that this is about Rowan?”
Aelin’s voice filled the room as she whipped her body around to face them. “Do
you think that I’m some love-sick child?”
The female spat, her hands trembling with rage.
Fenrys held up his hands in a
sign of peace. This wasn’t just the anger of a separated mate. No, this was
something much deeper. Something much more sinister.
Aelin turned back to
her closet “I’ll say it again. Get out! And leave me the hell alone!” With that
she stomped into her closet and slammed the heavy door shut.
Aelin didn’t leave
the closet until she heard them leave. So, she had sat there like a pouting
child for a few minutes, and as she sat on her bed now, she realized how
ridiculous she was being. They just wanted to reach her. They wanted to help.
But… Aelin didn’t want their help. Out of everything, she’d always survived and
figured everything out. She would this time to.
john and sherlock eating donuts together on the sofa. john got up early and went out to get them; he comes back pink-cheeked and smug. sherlock, who woke up after he left and wandered out to the sofa wrapped in the duvet to wait for him to come back, looks up when he comes in, bleary-eyed and pleased. john hands over the waxed paper bag they came in with a kiss to sherlock’s cheek, and then he slips off his coat and his shoes before sitting on the other end of the sofa and burrowing his way into the duvet as well, his socked feet rubbing over sherlock’s bare calves, the outside chill still stuck to the wool. sherlock nibbles at his donut, savouring, a picture of decadence as his head lolls back, as his eyes close, and he lets the stray bits of glaze stick to his lip without licking them off, just to see if john notices them. john does, and he leaves his donut half-eaten on the coffee table so he can lick them off sherlock’s lips for him, to lick the taste of sugar out of his mouth, soft and warm and almost unbearably sweet.
Speaking of Victor's dumb foot thing, when do you think Yuuri gets his first pedicure? During the season it would be pointless, so maybe after he retires? Or as a treat during the off season? Does he get it done at a salon or does Victor insist on doing it himself? Does Yuuri have it done in secret as a surprise?
i would actually say that they both get pedicures at least once a month, and i’m just saying this as someone who used to run half marathons on a regular basis. your feet get FUCKED, yo. i can’t imagine what victor and yuuri’s feet look like, except it’s probably TRAGIC. whenever i’m actively running, i get a pedicure once a month. you want to keep your nails short on your toes, because otherwise you could lose them from the force of them hitting the front of your shoe. you want to regularly exfoliate them and treat them so no gross bacteria is building up. also, wax treatments feel fucking incredible and i love having my feet inside bags of wax, and if i have to run 120 miles a week to put my feet in bags of wax, i will do that. so i think that victor gets weekly pedicures, and yuuri gets monthly pedicures, and then they meet each other and they go together and drink champagne, and victor tells the girl who is rubbing the dead skin off his feet with a salt scrub about his husband, ISN’T HE BEAUTIFUL, he says pulling up a picture on his phone, and the girl is like, that guy is literally sitting right next to you.
Hello, honey bees! So, as the title suggests…I OPENED UP AN ETSY SHOP, and I’m super excited about it!
At the moment the only listing I have is for Pendulum Readings, but in the very near future I’m going to be selling: handcrafted herbal candles, bath magick bags, wax melts, beginner witch activity books, moon phase runes, and much more!
If you’re interested in checking out my shop, you can CLICK HERE!
Headcanon: Every year on the anniversary of Story and Song, Magnus makes a pilgrimage to the temple of Istus in Refuge to leave her an offering in thanks for her help. The offering consists of a letter recounting his, Taako’s, and Merle’s milestones and achievements so far that year, a large ball of hand-dyed homespun wool yarn, a small waxed paper bag of homemade caramels (made from a Waxman family recipe Julia taught him when they were first together), and a small wooden duck with a scrap of fabric tied around its neck as a scarf. He usually tries to make sure the ball of yarn and the duck’s scarf match.
Hey! I just got raw materials for candles, wax, wicks etc. Any tips on how to make the best ones? and how do you add herbs and crystals? like is there a guide to avoid any? thanks!!!🎵
So, I’m going to be lowkey greedy and I’m not going to give you all the tricks and trades to candle making because this is how I make a living, 73% of my profits come from candles and it took me along time to find out some of the more helpful tricks. But I’ll gladly help a little, so here’s some starter stuff. I’ll also be publishing a book which will have all of my information. If you want a guide, you should do some research, there’s countless forums, books, just google it. Best of luck to you and your candles.
You definitely need a thermometer unless you’ve done it enough to know the timing by heart. Also, stoves fluctuate a lot so it’s not super reliable.
Why though? Essential oils(or candle oils) are chemicals, and at high heats some of their scents will definitely change(side eyes orange). You need to make sure you pour your candles and add oils at the right temperature. Also, if they’re too hot your scents won’t be as strong.
Don’t use soy wax in pillar candles.
Use dye blocks for color instead of liquid color, both will work but dye blocks you use MINIMAL. I do maybe two shavings(think of small shredded cheese) per BATCH, with liquid dye I used half a small container for ONE candle.
Please don’t pour any type of alcohol into your candle for the scent. Your shit will catch on fire, I’ve had to many asks saying someone did this. And it’s genuinely no one else fault but your own.
As for adding herbs, just like, throw that shit in there? Maybe say some words? Please don’t add any that have toxic smoke, do your research.
Don’t waste your wax. If you have some left over just let it cool and then put it in a bag. That shit adds up.
There’s a difference between beeswax, soy wax, and those generic bags you can buy at craft stores.
As for crystals, I just put them on top when they’re 99% cool. If you’re going to put them in the candle, please research on how the rock is affected by high heats, wax, and essential oils. Some degrade.
Hey, your post about ketamine are fantastic! im probably going to use the in a story but i have a question: you talk about injecting ketamine but, if it was posible (and breaking the rules if it is not) to "inject" it as a gas, what would the consecences of breathing it be? would it burn the throat or would it have the same result?
Hey there nonny!
I’m not aware of any kind of gaseous form of ketamine. Inhaled anesthetics are a whole other bag of wax I’m honestly not familiar with, and ketamine is not an inhaled anesthetics. The closest I’ve gotten is internet accounts of people smoking it, which apparently tastes absolutely horrible.
This whole thing, though, makes me wonder whether you could theoretically knock out a guard by replacing their vape stuff (ewww) with some kind of anesthetic and let them just…. dose themselves. Interesting thought.
OH! One more thing about ketamine.
A reader messaged me recently and mentioned a side effect of prolonged use that I wasn’t aware of, found in ketamine abusers.
In long term use, ketamine apparently causes bladder and kidney failure. Even though it’s primarily metabolized in the liver, the metabolites are still excreted through the kidneys, and it can cause failure of the bladder and the kidneys via a disease known as ketamine cystitis.
This is an issue in chronic users, but apparently there’s a HUGE wave of people reporting to hospitals unable to hold more than 2 tablespoons of urine who are recreational ketamine users.
So now all of our knowledge about ketamine has been expanded, and I would like to thank @quillandinkconsultancy for bringing that one to my attention!
This will work best if you know who has cursed you. Go
outside under the waning moon. Focus on the person who has cursed you.
Write out their full name and date of birth, fold the paper in thirds,
and place it in the mojo bag. Add the ginger, add the curry, and last
add the dill. The idea is to completely bury the paper in the bag. Light
the candle and let seven drops of wax fall into the bag.
Close the bag.
Bind it shut with the black string, using nine knots. Each time you tie
a knot, say the name of the person out loud. Bury the bag where it will
remain safe, and snuff your candle. Leave the bag in place until the
At the waxing moon, take the same candle you used to begin
this spell and dig up your bag. Burn it, burying the ashes in the same
place as the bag was initially buried. This weakens the power of any
curse over you, and specifically breaks the power of the curse you know
was placed against you.