#Wooden Wick Candles

[luzlapine]

I have come to realized that taking zoomed in photos isn't ideal when it comes to image ratios lol I've become so accustomed to taking photos on my phone that I've forgotten how to work with a camera. When I first did this photoshoot, I hated that I couldn't zoom in, and I was complaining very loudly about it haha

But I guess there is a reason why you shouldn't zoom in so close in your pictures, as when you go to edit them, they're so large that it helps with your image ratio. Does that make sense? Either way, I'll carry new knowledge to my next shoot!

[luminouscents]

[linolinoing]

I got so excited for christmas I lit my gingerbread cookie candle and started watching zoellas 2018 vlogmas 🫢

[litrituals]

Charmed Soy Candle with a Wooden Wick

Top: Sweet mandarin & incense

Middle: Balsamic & myrrh resin

Base: Cedar wood, frankincense & powdery musk

[marvelousmawn]

so so so so mad the power went out so i can't scroll through any hallowoods posts. ya girl has a 2gb plan and used most of it today at work to liveblog the new ep with the Haunt

[strangerays]

sometimes I get the urge to cry but then I remind myself that there are candles and some people smell like warm laundry

[malathebrand1]

Enhance Your Candle Experience with Wooden Wicks

Discover the charm of candle wooden wick, a unique choice for candle making that combines aesthetics and functionality. Unlike traditional cotton wicks, wooden wicks create a warm, inviting ambiance with their soothing crackling sound, reminiscent of a cozy fireplace. They provide a more even burn, maximizing fragrance throw and extending burn time. Ideal for a variety of wax types, wooden wicks can elevate your candle-making game. Whether you’re crafting for personal use or as gifts, these wicks offer a rustic touch that delights the senses. Explore the art of using wooden wicks and transform your candles into an enchanting sensory experience that captivates both sight and sound.

[fairmaiden8]

Wood Wick Candle Experience

Imagine yourself in a cozy room surrounded by the warm glow of a Wood Wick Candle Experience. As the hearthwick flame dances elegantly, you are mesmerized by its long and beautiful flicker. This video by Ivan KID captures the essence of relaxation and comfort, inviting you to immerse yourself in the soothing ambiance. With each moment, you find yourself drawn into the tranquility of the Wood Wick…

[alittlescents]

Website: https://www.alittlescents.com/

Address: Ohio, USA

Purely ScentSational offers a delightful array of handcrafted products designed to infuse your space with incredible fragrances. Specializing in wax melts, candles, and more, each item is meticulously crafted to ensure quality and scent longevity. The brand takes pride in its Autumn Collection, Coffee Candles, and a variety of wax melts, providing a scent for every mood and occasion. While the online shop allows customers to explore and purchase a wide range of scented products, Purely ScentSational also demonstrates a commitment to causes like Breast Cancer Awareness through their themed products.

Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@allittlescents.com

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[original-oz-soda]

If a guy ever bought me a wooden wick candle I would marry him on the spot.

Regardless, I bought myself a wooden wick candle because JoAnn fabrics was having a sale on them. The one I got smells like Vanilla Tonka.

Don't know what it has to do with those toy trucks though.

[luzlapine]

While searching for a dulce de leche scent, I came across a condensed milk scent and my life changed forever. I have had the most difficult time working with this scent, but I WILL make it work. It smells exactly like condensed milk, it's fantastic and thus I had the idea to blend it with a strawberry scent and it's to die for. I don't have the labels for this candle yet, but please believe me when I say it's super cute!

[luminouscents]

Luxury Candles

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Discover the difference that Luminouscents luxury candles can make in your home. Elevate your living space, create memorable moments, and indulge in the luxury you deserve. Visit Luminouscents today to browse our collection and find the perfect candle to complement your style.

[bi-writes]

MOB who has to stay with Johnny at his house while Simon is away on a solo mission? Like as a preventive measure, Simon has them both together in case soemthing happens to him while he’s away?

mail-order bride

"i...simon, i just don't--"

"just do it," simon murmurs. you quiet immediately, a little caught off-guard. simon has never interrupted you; even when you're a babbling mess, simon lets you finish your garbled sentences. he waits until your voice quiets, until your mouth closes, before he ever speaks to you, but this time, his tone is firm, and there is no room for interpretation. when you meet his eyes, simon is more than serious. "i don't ask ya for anythin', swee'eart. but this..." he reaches out for you, and you step closer instinctively, and when he cups your face in both hands, you can't help but melt. he leans his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes when you see the very subtle tremble of his lips. "do this fer me. only thing i'll ever ask of ya. i swear it."

you take a deep breath to center yourself. one of his hands wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you just that much closer, and you wait until your lips brush against his before you answer him.

"i...i have to go?"

"few days. tha's it."

"well, i...well, okay."

it's quiet up north. the weather dampens the entire coastline, what you can see of it, and the air tastes like salt. it was in your mouth as soon as you stepped off the train, and it only got stronger the closer you got to the cottage.

as soon as you step out of the car, you're greeted by the most quaint little house on a hill. there's vines climbing up the sides of it, wrapping around wooden structures and carving out a perfectly quaint home tucked amongst scottish greenery. it's breathtaking here; it's so quiet, and the way that you're allowed to breathe up here is unlike anywhere else you've ever been.

the meows coming from your backpack are the only thing that bring you back to earth.

"just inside, lass," a low voice calls behind you. "supper's 'bout ready now."

when johnny closes the door behind you, you're mesmerized by the coziness inside. his house is filled with warmth. there's plaid curtains pulled back from a stained-glass window, allowing in soft colors of light. the couches in his living room have throw pillows and blankets of mismatched linen and velvet, and his walls are filled with pictures and hanging green plants. there's candles burning, and the television is still playing some reruns of old rugby games.

the wood detail is exquisite. the staircase has little carvings of scottish motifs and flowers, winding up another wall of photos. the pictures are old and new, all of laughing people with johnny's big smile or his bright blue eyes or wearing the same plaid pattern as the fabric that you saw hanging in the closet.

a green kettle. a cross above the mantle with a psalm printed on it. a sketch on the coffee table (a skull, with a stub of a charcoal pencil still laying over it). rosaries hanging over a wedding photo with johnny in the background, holding up bunny ears. a wooden bowl of oranges (and oranges only).

"said ye'd be 'ere fer some time, tha' ye like ta bake. got some things fer ye at the shops."

you set your backpack down, opening the clear window of it, and two little cats hop out immediately. johnny raises a brow as he makes eye contact immediately with the orange tabby, a wicked grin coming over his face.

"i remember ye, ye little shite."

"what?" you laugh, and johnny shakes his head.

"nothin'."

it's late when he notices you looking out the window. the cats are curled up on opposite ends of the couch, in deep sleep after johnny gave them each a salmon dinner (and you pretended not to notice seeing the extensive recipe sheet that only your husband could have made on his phone). your eyes are on the sky; you can see so much of it here, twinkly stars and all.

"'m sorry ye have ta be here," johnny says lowly, soft enough that you aren't startled. you don't look away from the window, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch as you wonder if simon is looking at the same star you can't seem to lose. it's brighter than the rest, and it flickers to a rhythm that feels oddly comforting.

"it's not your fault, johnny," you assure him softly, and you turn away from the window finally to find him seated on the carpet, scratching the orange cat behind the ears. "he wouldn't...he wouldn't take no for an answer. not...not this time."

you frown a little, smoothing your right hand over your left, and your heart drops a little in your chest when the sparkle of your wedding ring matches the sparkle of your star.

"i've been staying home alone all this time," you continue, shaking your head. "and all of the sudden...a-all of the sudden he doesn't trust me?"

"oh, love..." johnny sighs, clicking his tongue. "tha' is...'s nae wot it is, i swear it."

"i...it's not...it's not me, right?" you ask in a whisper, meeting his eyes finally. "simon and i...w-we're doing so well..."

the expression that passes over his face is a sad one. it unnerves you to see it; johnny is someone that just isn't meant to be sad. his house is filled with so much love and so much life, and you swear you don't even recognize him anymore because he's void of a smile altogether.

"ye seen the pictures?"

you know immediately what johnny is talking about. you saw them the very first night you stayed in your shared home. across your house, there are a few picture frames covered with fabric or face-down on whichever surface they rest on. when you glimpsed at them, you peeked behind the curtain of a life that simon has that you don't know. even now, you have never felt strong enough to ask him about them.

it isn't because you think simon won't tell you; you're afraid to ask. you're afraid of who they are, what they are to him, and why he's never told you their names or introduced them to you. they exist in a separate place, and you don't know why, and when you saw him holding that baby--

you shake your head finally.

"i...i can't."

johnny hums low, looking down. he smooths his hands down his jeans.

"neither can he."

you close your eyes, but not fast enough. there's a few tears that fall down the curve of your cheek.

"when...when did--?"

"will be another year in a few days."

your lip shakes, and you take in a stuttered breath. you did not believe it possible to love simon any more than you already do, but it aches, that place in your chest that is reserved just for him. it hurts, in the worst and most incredible way, and you never want him to know another day without hearing you tell him how much you love him.

when simon comes to get you, just a week later, you're sitting under a sycamore tree at sunset. it's never been more quiet inside of your head, and when he takes a seat beside you, you say nothing for a few minutes.

simon thinks maybe you're angry for a moment, but then your hand reaches over to take his, and then you're scooting closer, until you drape yourself over his arm and bury your face into the side of his neck.

"i'm not going anywhere," you whisper, and simon turns his head slightly.

"wot's tha', love?"

"i'm not going anywhere, simon," you say again, and when he looks at you finally, you squeeze his hand. "wherever...wherever you want me to go...i'll go. wherever you want me to stay, i-i'll stay there."

when he kisses you, it's soft, and it's slow, and he feels faraway and so close all at once. you put your hands around his neck, along the back of his head, anything to get him closer, to feel more of him, but it isn't enough.

it won't be enough. not until simon devours you whole. not until you bite into him and never let go. not until beginning of you and the end of him are indistinguishable.

not until i make the time before us obsolete and the time after us endless.

when you are home, simon watches from the hallway as you pick up a picture frame on the dresser. it's been facedown there since he moved in, and touching it has always felt like it burns him. he's frozen as you flip it face-up, standing it back up. when he sees himself, many years younger, smiling, happy, holding a chubby baby with bright eyes and blonde hair, he's surprised his insides don't burst immediately.

he never thought he would be able to look at them again. he never thought he'd be able to see their faces without seeing the warped versions of them, the mirrors of them that he never believed could be real. he always thought if he looked at them again, he'd go blind--that he'd carve out his own eyes just to forget what was left of them.

but nothing remains. they're memories, beautiful ones, and he'd forgotten that his nephew even had dimples.

the photos get lost amongst the rest. they blend in, like they were meant to be, tucked between the warm ones of your smile and the orange cat standing on simon's shoulders.

there is nothing more intoxicating than the woman that simon has chosen to love. you make the worst of his mind feel afraid; the thoughts that threaten to upend him, they are retreating, withering away from the things that he thinks about now that you remain. the tendrils of you are everywhere; you have latched onto him like nothing ever has, and he will never be rid of this feeling. of you.

simon will not fight reality any longer. he won't tell himself fate is nothing but proof that god is unforgiving. god isn't real, you are, and whatever came before you was the road he had to follow to get to you.

and simon didn't just follow; he fucking crawled. he dug his hands into the stone, bleeding fingernails and all, and he kept going even when his legs didn't work and his mind told him there was nothing there ahead of him. it was not resilience. it was not a man made of metal or steel or something heroic or a miracle.

simon is just a man, and he is weak, but as he comes up behind you and breathes you in, he realizes now that he has known you his entire life. you are tethered by something that he can't see. you are connected by something invisible.

when you tuck yourself into bed that night, the pictures are still upright, the ones on the wall still uncovered. you fall asleep before him, like always, and simon cradles your head to his chest as his eyes find the window.

a star sparkles. it's the last thing he sees before he falls asleep beside you.

[scealaiscoite]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ。 ﾟ。　 october prompts

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

¹⁾ thick, acrid smoke

²⁾ sore shoulders

³⁾ rose-scented candles burnt down to the wick

⁴⁾ a members’ only club

⁵⁾ rotted wooden fenceposts

⁶⁾ sour lemon candies

⁷⁾ hand-rolled cigarettes 

⁸⁾ blue-hued bruises

⁹⁾ the taste of honey from someone else’s lips

¹⁰⁾ cold hands

¹¹⁾ dollar store sunglasses

¹²⁾ a weathered leather jacket

¹³⁾ slept-in makeup

¹⁴⁾ the conversations had after last call

¹⁵⁾ a lone silver earring

¹⁶⁾ the imprint of a boot between shoulder blades

¹⁷⁾ spiced cologne

¹⁸⁾ bitter dark chocolate

¹⁹⁾ a second place ribbon

²⁰⁾ icy grey irises

²¹⁾ a bodyguard’s earpiece 

²²⁾ a turquoise-tiled pool

²³⁾ glitter dusted across bare skin

²⁴⁾ someone doing up your seatbelt for you

²⁵⁾ warm tequila in a coffee mug

²⁶⁾ a roll of yellow crime scene tape

²⁷⁾ pearlescent oyster shells

²⁸⁾ cuban coffee

²⁹⁾ the seventh highest floor in a skyscraper

³⁰⁾ incensed prayer beads

³¹⁾ the backseat of a taxi

[decomposed-but-pretty]

on my birthday 6am ritualistic fire walk with me rewatching ✌😚🥴🍄🌱💚🐛