#baked dividers

[kodaswrld]

stoner divider set

new creator - requests open - like & reblog if you use!!

જ⁀➴ follow me for more!!

[bakedbeanchan]

Sokka and Yue reuniting in the spirit world

[shuaver]

      (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑) ⁓ mystery, apocalypse, romantic, comedy ʕ ʔ  ✦

@wnhee @rkkuri @jicito @dohonie @minguus

[beompercar]

󠀠󠀠󠀼⠀꒰ ✿ ₊ ꒱ f l o u r . ݁₊ ⊹ ݁power !!! ₊˚⊹౨ৎ

@qqmariztwsse @awwriri

[dollywons]

For any tutorials I do on how I make my dividers, banners, etc! :>

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵．．．

1． 𝘈𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘎𝘪𝘧

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵．．．

1． 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘛𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘎𝘪𝘧𝘴

𝘌𝘻𝘎𝘪𝘧！ 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦， 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱 ：）♡︎

2． 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘜𝘴𝘦 𝘛𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘗𝘪𝘤𝘴𝘈𝘳𝘵！♡︎

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯．．．

[grungenglam]

⋆·˚ ༘ 🧁🎂Cake pixels

[thedeadthree]

-ˋˏ .·:·. ⊱ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐛𝐲 @pavus — day one: 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

— 𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐑 . 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐃𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀 . 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐒. 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐒.

— 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (mutuals can opt in/out via 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 <3):

@loriane-elmuerto, @carrionsflower, @auricfog, @girliefailure, @sunsofdawn

@risingsh0t, @griffin-wood, @lilywatt, @full---ofstarlight, @grapecaseschoices

@tommyarashikage, @shadowsofrose, @shadowglens, @weisshaupts, @queennymeria

@deadrlngers, @d-esmond, @courtana, @gothimp, @wlwaerith

@unholymilf, @aezyrraeshh, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @shellibisshe, @florbelles

@celticwoman, @neonshrike, @cloudofbutterflies92, @adelaidedrubman, @carlosoliveiraa

@pinkfey, @spookyrares, @yharnams, @aceghosts, @confidentandgood

@theelderhazelnut, @leviiackrman, @ellierenae, @anoras, @lavampira

@dialdrunk, @full---ofstarlight, @imogenkol

[pr1ncessk1tty]

[strangergraphics-archive]

cooking themed dividers requested by @judgementdaysunshine

please like and credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated! thank you! 💕

[dwaintydoll]

𝖻𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗇 , 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 . . ꒰ ♡︎ ꒱

[iirvelvet]

[sister-lucifer]

muffin dividers? :0 any type would do! i’m making a rentry themed around a character who likes muffins (muffins from mlp, lol)

🧁Muffin Dividers🧁

please like, reblog, & credit if you use!

[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE OPEN!]

DNI: TERFS, endo, proship, pro ana, nazi, MAPs, zoophiles

tag list: @ghostboneswrites2 @savanaclaw1996 @lordhavemercyyyyy @emostrawrobbery @bloodythornsandskulls

[if you’d like to be on the tag list for dividers, please leave a message in my inbox]

[the-shroom-garden]

ᴄᴏᴛᴛᴀɢᴇᴄᴏʀᴇ/ʙᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀs

ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴏʀ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ, ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ!

[puppyeared]

footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia

[eqt-95]

quinn!!! your recipe diagram is a thing of beauty. is there any chance at all you might post the ramen one?! i’m so curious!!!

ok but first Disclaimers: - this is a very first draft - the recipe is actually an interpretation on Korean instant noodles so it's not a traditional miso base - credit to kenji lopez-alt - the diagram only includes steps to make the ramen base - this is a very, very first draft - I LOVE this ramen recipe and even though you didn't ask for it I'm including a photo of the last time I made it below the break

[pearlypairings]

steve and robin with “put the icing down”? one of them is a birthday cake baking pro the other is a nightmatreeee (also happy birthday weekend lovebug!)

platonic steve & robin || angst, comfort, dynamic duo || 1788 words (lol oops)

A/N : uwu!!! I went crazy! this prompt made me drag out a lil angst (mostly because it coincided with that devastating behind the scenes photo of Dustin in front of Eddie's grave). I liked playing with the idea that Steve would end up being the more skilled baker with Robin being very who cares it's just a cake??? and he's like NO I need to FIX our friend! which is that's not at all realistic for this level of trauma, but his heart's in the right place so Robin goes along for the emotional ride.

"yesterday's" prompt

"Rob—Rob!" Steve pointed at the flour-coated, eggshell-laden hostage with a death grip on his mother's precious silver icing spatula. "Put. The Icing. DOWN." Her fingers pressed into the plasticky flesh of the piping bag in direct mutiny of his kitchen dictatorship. "What's got your panties all in a bunch? You've been a snobby baker all day. Isn't making a cake for someone supposed to be fun?"

Robin hovered dangerously over the three layered round cake propped up on the white ceramic cake stand. They'd been in the Harrington kitchen slaving for hours on each part, though Steve surprisingly wielded more skills than Robin in the baking department, especially for being such an athletic doofus. Turned out he learned the way of the oven from his mom, baking for charity fundraisers and the like when his dad was away on business. He hadn’t divulged any more details when Robin had asked how he learned all these recipes, and she didn’t have to ask.  She already knew the Harringtons were sticklers for high achievement and perfection, which clearly influenced Steve's eagle-eye approach to measuring the dry ingredients and the almost weirdly-scientific method in which he ordered the ingredients to be mixed together "for maximum moistness."  Gag. He wasn't even listening to how ridiculous he sounded and that definitely made her raise more than a few eyebrows as she stayed on the outskirts of his deliberate process.  "It needs to be perfect, not just slathered all over." Robin watched as he had to consciously refrain from finger combing his hair, his own hands covered in remnants of their baking “project.” That was his nervous tick, something gnawed at him more than just their favorite twerp’s birthday cake. "Isn't it the thought that counts?" she pushed, not yet retreating from the cake. "Yeah, well—Mrs. Henderson asked for my help, because she had to work or whatever. I don’t want to let her down...” He spoke softer, rocking back and forth heel to toe, toe to heel. Steve’s face softened, too, making Robin lean in, forcing herself to listen closely. The truth was coming. “And you know how bad Dustin has had it lately. I don’t have to remind you. He hasn't even mentioned his own birthday, just kept talking about Eddie’s last month."

Steve's hands planted themselves on his hips. A shadow glazed his eyes when he mentioned their younger friend struggling, like responsibility hung solely on his shoulders for Dustin's grief. As if somehow Steve was the only one who made life-altering decisions that day. Robin dropped her arms to her sides and with that, the frosting no longer threatened the pristine vanilla-chocolate-marble layers of tempting cake. She shrugged off the tiny mutiny with an apologetic look. "Thank you," he said as he leaned to one hip, cooling off his unusual, micro-managing attitude. He poked another toothpick through the top layer and kept his hand close to see if any warmth lingered to confirm it was ready to be iced.  She slid next to him focusing intently, probably mentally plotting out his icing to spatula strategy for the canvas of the cake, and she bumped gently into his hip to get his attention. Robin wasn’t gonna let him stay locked up in his head under all that stupid, silly hair to fend for himself. "It's not your fault, you know." His gaze sank for a moment from the counter to the floor, and a sigh fell from his lips heavy as an ocean anchor. His knuckles whitened along the edge of the island counter. "Ever since..." Steve trailed off, shaking his head low. They both knew what he meant: last year’s spring break, when Hawkins had the deadliest un-natural disaster. Nobody bounced back this time like the other tussles with the Upside Down, the wounds struck too deep for them not to be left bleeding out and a mess in the aftermath.  His grasp held onto the granite counter even tighter. "The kid saw things he shouldn't have. Well, they all did. But he was alone, he had to... had to find his own way back by himself, covered in......” His back bent to let his head hang even lower. “They shouldn't have been left out there in the open in the first place. I knew better than to let either of them be in that park." Robin's powdery hand gravitated to the arm he flexed out of anger or grief she wasn't sure. Lately it seemed like every conversation circled back to this idea that their failure had more to do with Steve than the impossibly terrifying, murderous interdimensional mutant with an insatiable vendetta against Hawkins. Like the death and maiming and earth splitting destruction that was so much bigger than their little Scooby Doo gang somehow circled solely around Steve Harrington. But she knew better than to try to rationalize right now when he was like this. He placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed it twice. Their well-practiced system to communicate that they're still present, mentally. She squeezed his bicep once more, looking up at him. "I just wanted him to have one good, perfect thing this year for himself, and I guess when his mom asked me for this favor, I did the typical Harrington family thing and made something simple into a whole….. shitty perfectionist production. I'm sorry, I was being an ass about it."

"Well, dingus, you're always an ass, but I can let this one time slide." Robin made that smile stretch to near goofy levels, the one that always made him roll his eyes, but smile back. Desperate times, desperate measures, etc. etc. “I think this cake will be Mrs. Henderson-approved when she sees how insanely tall it is. And I don’t know how we can help Dustin right now, but at least this can show him we’re here, you know, when he’s ready to talk?” He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little to a lower slump. His hands stayed busy though, moving onto the big bowl of frosting to stir and fold its contents to re-fluff it or something, she guessed.  “None of us really came out unscathed, did we?” “No, don’t think anyone’s really okay. We’re just trying to survive with what’s left.” “Yeah…..yeah.” Steve conceded. The spatula kept folding and folding and folding until it made Robin dizzy to watch. She stopped him again before shrugging. “So let’s make a really good cake. We’re in control of that.” He offered her the first scoop to put on the heavenly smelling layers of cake before them; panic started to squeeze at her throat. That actually was a disaster waiting to happen with her luck lately with general coordination outside of navigating her trumpet. “Come on, you get first dibs for me being such a douche.” “Actually, I’ve rethought my stance. How about you ice the thing and I put the little Oreo crumbles and sprinkles on the edge. That seems more like my thing…..” She laughed at herself, snorting a little while she visualized the final product and its delivery. “I think, maybe, you should also be the one who carries it into the Henderson’s house, too. To be safe.” The last thing poor Steve needed was for them to finish this thing, in hopes of making him feel better, and then, she trips across their lawn and this fucking masterpiece cake goes flying up in the air only to become worm food. This was now a mission to help their friend remember that he mattered, too…. That they could remember their lost loved ones, honor them, and still celebrate their own lives. And in Steve’s world, that started with an expertly baked cake, so that's what they’ll do. He didn’t budge at first, but once Robin nodded him on his way, Steve started to gently ice the cake in precise swoops with the special spatula. She grabbed all the toppings to get them ready, organizing them in tiny bowls with tinier spoons she found in the Harrington specialized utensil drawer; she was sure they weren’t technically the correct tool, but like, they seemed perfect and Steve didn’t correct her when his eyes flicked her direction to note what she was doing.

When all was said and done, the center was devoid of the most important pronouncement. Robin eyed up her work on the sides. The sprinkles and crumbles probably could have looked cleaner if he did them, but they were at least evenly distributed and not too crazy in their wild array. “So, my handwriting is shit.” Steve said, smirking with a grip on the smallest piping bag of vibrant green-colored icing. He offered Robin the task at hand. “I know you’re handwriting isn’t shit.” “Uhh, don’t you think this part’s a little too important for me to fuck up? We already established I am not a natural at domestic work, it seems.” “If it’s bad, it’ll make Dustin laugh. If it’s good, he’ll be surprised that two idiots can make a cool cake. Win-win in my book.” “But, then you could try to do it.” Robin shrugged off the green threat. “I was being a control freak the whole time.” His face shifted, a tense knit in his brow. “Come on, this’ll at least make me feel like I didn’t ruin the whole day.” “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll do it, but if I hear one giggle out of you before we see Dustin, I WILL smash your face into the cake and tell Mrs. Henderson what happened. She’ll take my side, you know it.” He offered the tube again with a pleased grin. “Fair’s fair.”  “One more thing first.” Robin had been eyeing the silver bowl of extra white frosting. She’d controlled herself while he’d worked diligently on the cake, like he was training for the world championship of baking. But now the sight of it and the timing was too tempting. She stuck her finger for a big scoop and swiped it across his cheek in a sneak attack. His reaction was too slow, with a pitched-down “hey!” and a swat of his hand that missed and nearly got the cake instead. Robin took the decorative icing bag from his hand, took a step back and shrugged innocently. “It had to be done. For Dustin, of course.” Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing a dish towel to clean off the white streak from his face. “ I’ll get you back when you least expect it.” “I know, and I’ll count on it. Now, let me focus….should it be in Russian or English?” “Jesus, Robin, English obviously.” “Okay, okay. Good, because I don’t know if Russians celebrate birthdays or not…or how to spell Dustin in Cyrillic.”