#musings ― the witch.

[moonlight-prose]

since you kindly offered this brilliant piece I have a thot for you. giving logan nasty nasty head as he’s trying to eat dinner 🤭

note: i sat with this for several hours after we hung up and i could not get it out of my head. he's a munch. we know this. it's a fact (disney grow some balls and say it outloud). but my god is he a whore for some good head. give him sloppy toppy and he's wrapped around your finger; he's yours, ready to put a ring on it and drag you to the courthouse himself.

Dinner is a quiet affair in the Howlett household. It's mixed with soft conversation and intimate jokes. Comments about your days, hands held over the table as candle wax dripped over the yellowed cloth. It's warm - domestic.

But on nights when adrenaline ran a bit too high and wine began to drip heat down your spine, you found that you couldn't resist the pull of him.

He sat in his usual chair, legs spread and eyes tracking your movements as you left the kitchen. A bottle of wine in one hand, his whiskey in the other.

His grin is soft. A docile man who'd been tamed by the lover he never expected. And you can feel the heat begin to curl around your stomach. Tugging on the nerves that thrummed beneath your skin. He'd never realize how far gone you were for him; how every move and choice depended on whether or not he'd smile your way.

"Smells good sweetheart." His voice is low, the grit of husk behind each lilted drawl.

You could feel warmth flicker to life beneath the supple skin of your cheeks as his gaze continued to track how you sat in your chair. Eyes dragging down the figure clad a t-shirt that had seen better days and jeans with a gaping hole in the knee.

There was no denying you dressed for comfort. Logan still felt his cock stiffen at the sight of you in dark washed denim though.

The smile is pulled from the depths of your chest. "I couldn't decide what to make."

You know you sound flustered. You know your voice is higher than normal.

You know he caught it by the sharp glint of his teeth poking through an already crooked smile.

"I'll eat anythin' you make," he admits with a soft clack of his fork tapping his plate.

The double meaning isn't lost on you. In fact it shoots a hole right through your chest, floods your body with that syrupy thick heat that you feel drip down to the tips of your fingers. His nostrils flare - eyes glancing down to the table that covers your lap - before he's filling his mouth with food.

Honestly you can't even recall how it happened. The entire ordeal a hazy cloud of lust that had you slipping out of your seat, and dropping to your knees beneath the table. His eyes went wide as your hands pushed at his legs, forcing them to spread. And when he made no move to stop you, the rest clicked into place with ease.

Logan smells of his cigar he smoked after work. He smells of spice and the musk of sweat and leather from his jackets that hung in the hall closet.

He is everything you could possibly want in a husband. Everything you asked for checked off with a flourished hand and a welcomed smile.

"Baby what-" He chokes on his food when your hands undo his belt, the button of his jeans, and pull him free with a choked whine. "Oh fuck."

That. That's what you were looking for after a day filled with his absence. The stifled moan at the back of his throat when your tongue licked up his cock - whining when the taste of him burst across your taste buds. You couldn't deny yourself him when he let you suck on the head, spit trailing down your chin and into his lap.

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, fingers tightening around his fork, and it isn't until you've got him halfway down your throat does he understand what you want.

The clink of metal scratching porcelain sends heat down your spine. He moans around a mouthful of food as your head bobs, mouth sucking him in deeper, further, until he hits the back of your throat and makes you gag.

"You're fuckin' filthy for me aren't ya," he mutters, thumb rubbing into your skin. "Makin' me eat while you get dinner of your own."

Your eyes roll back, pussy clenching down hard around nothing. Because fuck he's right. You'd stay on your knees until pain flared up. You'd keep him down your throat until you lost the ability to speak.

You'd suck him dry morning, noon, and night to hear the noises that slipped past his lips.

"'M gonna give you want ya want baby," he grunts.

His hips rock up off the chair, hand pushing your head down further until your nose was buried in the dark hair tinged with the musky scent of him. It's wet and messy and spit has formed into globs that roll down the expanse of your throat.

You're so far gone all you can do is give a choked moan, body trembling as your lungs screamed for air.

That's the fucked up part though. You'd die on his cock if it meant getting to please him.

He cums with a harsh snap of your name, chest heaving and plate long forgotten. Shudders roll down your spine, slick pooling between your thighs as he spurts down your throat. Spilling out the sides of your mouth.

"Eat your dinner sweetheart so I can have some fuckin' desert."

[aparticularbandit]

So.

It's very clear that Agatha got the Darkhold around the time that Nicholas disappeared (or whatever happened with him) - and that this is something that people know in witch circles.

Agatha also was very clear with Wanda that she wanted to learn how Wanda was doing what she was doing - and I think this is less about the Westview spell and more about bringing Vision back.

I'm sticking with my theory that Agatha went down the Road for the Darkhold to try and get Nicholas back, that the Darkhold did not give her the ability to bring him back the way she wanted, and that she chased Wanda down for that same reason.

Which gives a really nice parallel between Agatha and what Wanda did in DSMOM. (Not the same. But similar enough.)

And we've already got those parallels anyway in terms of Wanda trying to steal the power from someone inexperienced so that she can get what she wants.

It's just strengthening that.

[thesensteawitch]

IF YOU WERE A MUSE TO A POET 🍁💌

~This Is What They Would Tell You!

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left To Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!💖

I hope you're doing well. Here's a collective reading about what a poet would tell you if you were their muse! ✨

TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND PICK YOUR PILE INTUITIVELY.

In case you would like to BOOK A READING with me then I am sharing the links below for the same.

BOOKING FORM 💌

RATE CARD $$$

You can also DM me in case of any query.🫶🏻

***

Pile 1

You have so many sides to you, and yet you hold space for more. I am directionless. Where should I lead this poem about you? Or where are you leading me? There’s so much to you that I want to express, but I fear I’ll end up looking like a fool. You’re like the universe—mesmerizing, intriguing, and frightening, with layers and layers of mysteries. You are divine to me. Being a poet feels like a boon when I look at you. Only fated souls get to write about someone so infinitely charming. I sense the never-ending wisdom you hold. I’d forever be your devotee if you’d let me drink just one drop of what keeps you glowing like you do. You’re sharp, kind, wild, and a dream that only slips away. Where are you looking? What inspiration do you need? Come on! You walk to your own rhythm, your shadows delightfully dancing to your beat. The sound of your steps tells me stories of places you’ve been and people you’ve met. You hold no regret, no grudge—only lessons. You think, reflect, and cry for being mistreated. But when it’s your turn, you choose to destroy the weapons that bruised you so deeply, instead of hurting others with them. The venom couldn’t kill you but made you wise. Following your footprints, I find the earth swallowing the shed skin of your old self. How can I define you when you’re constantly transforming? Every time I think I have finally known you, I find something new revealed. My hands fall short of holding your grace, my mind loses the words to portray it. As I said, you’re sharp—you’ll never let me read you. You take me to the end only to throw me into a new beginning. It’s not your fault; I understand that’s who you truly are. Sometimes, while falling asleep, I wonder who would be so lucky to fall in love with you? Or who would you fall in love with? But then again, I don’t feel you’re deprived of love, because YOU ARE love. I look at you the way others look at stars. Everyone attempts to count them at least once in their lifetime but eventually gives up, knowing it’s an attempt they will fail. But I am not tired; I am taking a break. I would like to admire you for now, knowing that maybe I too will never fully know you, but I’ll keep exploring who you are, just like scientists cannot give up on SPACE! Ah! See, I cracked something! Your lover must be someone like you—infinitely charming and holding mysteries as vast.

***

Pile 2

You know what? I am mad at you! Because either you attack or you run away. See? You just revolted back. Or perhaps hid in your closet, knowing that someone knows your little secret. You’re that 22° in astrology. Kill or be killed? You’re neither a prey nor do you need to triumph over someone or something else to keep yourself safe. All I am trying to say is that you’re not meant to just survive; you’re meant to thrive. But hey, I do see your heart. The life around it has withered, and you’re surviving on memories. For how long, may I ask? You’re not a coward; you’re afraid. I heard someone say, “The one who is capable of love is capable of being saved.” At this point, all the love is leaking from the corners of your heart. Make the best use of it, or it’ll go to waste. Life isn’t at the extremes; it’s in the middle. That’s where you find your balance. That’s where you will shine bright. I see you singing to yourself, making stories in your heart but never writing them down for the world to taste. You don’t need to say ‘NO’ to something you want. Openly say what you want and to the person who can give it to you. Don’t keep whispering your wishes into the ears of God. He’s even giving you a side-eye now, haha. You’re the leader! If you don’t take the lead, you’ll never have your pack. Do you get it? Why am I even writing about you? It seems to me that you’re an artist too. You know the depths of your pain better than I do. Gosh, you need a hug! Whoever you’ve lost in this physical world doesn’t like to see those tears rolling down your cheeks. Every time you try to make sense of your emotions, you only make your heart heavier. Love keeps dripping and draining into the river of unexpressed emotions. You’re about to be granted a new life, a restart. But this won’t be handed to you until you decide and do what you’re supposed to do. The pain demands to be felt and yada yada yada! We’ve all watched *The Fault in Our Stars*. But come on, there’s an expiry date to feeling it too. I told you, you’re an extreme case. Pain won’t leave you until you leave it. YOU DESERVE THE WORLD. And I know you don’t believe it, but from where I am seeing, all your wishes are about to come true. You’re just ONE decision away. And I am here watching and waiting for you to make that move. Go where your heart is; that’s where you’re supposed to be. Don’t run away from your destiny. Remember, you’re not the same kid who froze at the point of a horrifying sight and couldn’t do anything about it. You’re grown up now. You can HEAL yourself. You’re not hopeless or helpless. You don’t even need to find your potential; it’s just there, waiting for you to see it and accept it.

***

Pile 3

Excuse me, miss/mister? Do you even have time to read what I have to say? You’re too busy figuring things out. Huff! The amount of mental and physical work you do is commendable. Are you waiting for something or someone? I am not surprised to see your spiritual side. What side, huh? You’re SPIRITUAL—IN & OUT! You’re wise, extremely intuitive, and resourceful but haven’t learned how to avoid burnouts. Can something ever be hidden from you? From where I see, it seems you’re new here but not naive. You’ve completed a tough journey filled with passion, rage, excitement, and burnouts (again!). Life has been preparing you for something bigger than your destiny! You’re heavily protected from the forces that don’t want you to be where God is taking you. But we all know who’s more powerful, don’t we? I see you bumping into your past sometimes, but you quickly realize that’s not where you’re supposed to be. The price you would have to pay to return to the same place or people is quite heavy. You don’t feel comfortable in the old stories anymore. You’re grateful but not greedy to go back. I laugh at those who think they can lure you with temptations! Lol! You are ten steps ahead of them. Stay where you are. All this silence around you is a blessing. You’re about to win. You’re meant to win in this lifetime. This is not your first time around. I have seen you somewhere—not here, but in a different lifetime. You’ve lived all those lives to WIN in this one! The smoke of your burned karmas surrounds you. You’ve cleansed! You’re not in the dark; you’re rising from the ashes. I see the wings of a phoenix on your back. YOU’RE THE CREATOR OF YOUR OWN DESTINY. Evidence of your faith and intuition follows you in the forms of birds, butterflies, feathers, and angel numbers. One day, you may share your story, but you know that day is not today. God, you’re mysterious, and all those stories are tattooed on your skin in a language no one can decipher. Your presence is enough for people to turn around, pause, and reflect. You raise the temperature of the room and melt the ice away. People open up to you naturally. Everyone just wants to experience a drop of you. But you’re not easily accessible. Your magic is sacred and can’t be put on sale. You’re magic. The path you’ve walked on shines so bright. That’s how I trace your past life because you leave glitters behind.

[kaitlinamberxo]

“You came here because you needed something, right?”

kaitlin's 100 favorite female muses — 17/100: Bonnie Bennett

[saucy-mesothelioma]

Made this image to bully my partner and I wanted to share it with the rest of y'all

[sonnenreich]

⠀      ⠀            ⠀    ❝ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 

⠀      ⠀⠀      ⠀    ⠀      ⠀    ⠀⠀      ⠀         𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘. 

independent  and  original  british  witch  following  the  name  of  𝐙𝐄𝐄𝐕  𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄,  ready  to  fulfill  your  darkest  wishes  or  just  serve  you  the  best  tea  blend  you  ever  tasted  ⸻  based  on  neo-pagan  beliefs  and  modern  witchcraft  aesthetic,  selective  and  mutuals  only,  activity  varies,  21+  p&mdni  (  conjured  by  cherry,  she / her  ☼ )

[musespov]

Ariana Grande’s look for the Wicked Premiere In Sydney, Australia (Nov. 3rd 2024) 🫧

[1e1e1e]

THE WITCH'S GRIMOIRE.

"This is a three-page information template for those who study, practice, or want to study or practice the occult. It is black, shiny, and gold (ish). Since I made it for someone, it is extremely customizable." here is the highly requested template! wooo. also, I got access to my account on my computer thank god enjoy! I'm also going to release a lot of new products this week... please enjoy!

editing and modifications are welcome once you purchase the template.

all elements are created by me. If you take inspiration from this document, please credit me as the source of your inspiration.

don't claim this as your own.

please like, or reblog this post if you use my template! 

how to use

click the link

download the template via my ko-fi

follow the instructions left on the note attached

once you receive access to the template, go to file  →  make a copy

[mistysolitude]

FUCK HOOKUP CULTURE

I WANT TO BE DRAGGED TO THE WOODS BY YOUR SOFT HANDS, EMBRACED BY YOUR TOWERING ARMS AND KISSED BY YOUR SWEET LIPS AS WE ARE ENGULFED BY MIST AMONG THE DEEP DARK TREES

[moonlight-prose]

maybe it's my period, maybe it's maybelline. but old man logan would eat pussy from the back like it's a fucking reward, after he's finished filling it so much you're leaking.

[aparticularbandit]

Agatha tells Wanda there will always be torches and pitchforks for women like them.

Lilia exemplifies this in the way she talks about how witches are perceived in culture (and I think may even allude to Agatha's line at one point).

Maybe Agatha doesn't just mean witches in general.

Maybe she means witches with great power they cannot control.

Because we see how even other witches go after Agatha, even from the beginning.

It's not just a general warning about witches; it's a personal warning filled with experience.

[the-muses-puppeteer]

He feels... extremely unprepared for such a visit. His hair is unkempt, there's dark circles under his eyes, isn't even using his coat or vest

"M- my muse...? Play? I thought you didn't want the hunting date..."

[kaitlinamberxo]

“May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?”

kaitlin's 100 favorite female muses — 56/100: Minerva McGonagall

[musingmelsuinesmelancholy]

Musings on titles and definitions

I've been listening to Radical Elphame and BiblioSophia. The interview they did recently with Marshal and Austin and the interview Biblia Sophia did with Shani Oates (my god that was fascinating) got me thinking about how we define and title the things we practice.

Why do we specify traditional witchcraft? Is there a difference between witchcraft and trad craft? What exactly is folk witchcraft?

I know we have all heard that tw is used to distinguish from Wicca; but I don't honestly think that's accurate. I know Cochrane disliked Wicca and did consider what he was doing diametrically opposed to Wicca. I do think the two are different, but are really different enough to define trad craft as non-wiccan witchcraft? I don't think so, we use similar tools, laying a compass is similar to casting a circle (having done both I have noticed differences), Sabbatic Craft works with Divine Male/Female pairings. No, I would think that its more accurate to describe tradcraft as non-new age witchcraft. When I see people complaining about wiccans, I find that often, not always, what they're actually complaining about is New Age! Both trad craft and wicca used similar ideas/material in their inceptions, it just seems like it was interpreted differently. They certainly are two different approaches to the craft but in the same way I do not think it would be helpful to describe a Baptist as a non-Catholic Christian, even though that is true, I don't think it's helpful to describe tw as non-wiccan witchcraft. Most trad witches would probably describe witchcraft as the art of trafficking with spirits, becoming like them and the practice of malefica. So why not just call ourselves witches? Imo it is because, generally speaking, the popular idea of witchcraft is more along the lines of energy manipulation, manifestation, angel numbers 'intentions' and tends to conjure up images of crystal healing, eclecticism etc and/or tends to be use as term to describe magic in general with no specific definition. (Not that there is anything wrong with that it doesn't matter what other people do, so as long as it isn't racist or appropriative). There is certainly still some conflation with wicca and witchcraft, but I don't think it's as bad as it was and therefore do not see the need to specifically set us apart from wiccans.

However, I do think wiccans and trad crafters approach the craft differently. (generally speaking!) I feel that the trad craft approach is more about connecting to rediscovering or reinvigorating the culture/traditions of a certain place. This often leads to a dual-faith observance, as our idea of witchcraft came to be in the context of Christianity. When I was wiccan, it felt more about re-inventing and reclaiming witchcraft and participating in a religion which, at the time, I felt made up for the lack of feminine/nature-based spirituality. We have different founders of course, Cecil Williamson, Robert Cochrane, Gardner, Valiente (though I think she was involved in both currents). The two trads evolved differently. Shani Oates said in her BiblioSophia interview "It [Wicca] is something that has no cosmology, and no end times. So, it doesn't have an eschatology, it just exists in its own creation, in its own bubble. Whereas The Clan of Tubal Cain and Robert Cochranes development of that very much has a cosmology and an eschatology, so it's a full rounded thing." I disagree about Wicca not having cosmology, the god/dess and belief in rebirth/Summerland's would be cosmology, no? I'm sure different traditions have their own too, which the public may not be privy to. The rest resonates very well with me and why I am drawn to trad craft specifically. Before I continue, I want to say in this I am comparing and contrasting my own experiences in wicca and tradcraft. I was wiccan for a while. I am not attempting to diss the religion as a whole, there's much about it that I appreciate! I can only speak on MY OWN experiences and in no way am trying to speak for or on wicca as a whole. I absolutely felt that wicca 'existed in it's own creation' during my time as one. It did not engage with culture or folklore. It had no connection, as far as I am aware, to a cosmology or eschatology that had evolved over time/within a certain culture or religion. (this is not a problem per se and I am generalizing). Trad craft gave me a way to connect to existing cosmologies which had connections to the land, the cultures and the histories I was drawn to. (local ones + my ancestors). I felt that I had more "scaffolding". What I was searching for, when got into spirituality, wasn't a re-creation or re-invention of a pagan/witch faith but rather connection to land, culture and its people. I didn't want to re-invent these things, I wanted to appreciate with and engage with them as they are. That isn't to say that a wiccan can't blend their religion with local or ancestral lore/culture or incorporate an outside cosmology into it.

This brings me to folk witchcraft. I'm seeing this word used more and I have a lot of feelings. I would think that a folk witch is one who is practicing the witchcraft of the area they live in or is one who has been brought into a living folk tradition. Can you call yourself a folk witch, if you're one such as myself? Raised in a white homogenous consumerist culture. No language passed down, no folk tales, very few folk customs retained. I seek out the lore and traditions of my state and of the cultures of my ancestors. I use folk spells. but who are my folk? folk magic is community based. I can't call myself a Canadian, French or Scottish folk witch, even if all the magic I did came from those cultures. I don't live in any of those places. I cannot claim those cultures. I suppose, as the lore of my state is a part of what I do, I could call myself an INSERT STATE NAME folk witch. But, again, who are my folk? The old French-Canadian culture that was once here is all but gone. Not that we don't have a distinct culture of our own anymore! We certainly do.

I like how Marshal described trad craft as "loric" as opposed to folkloric. The lore/history of Europe and America do inform my understanding of witchcraft, but folklore is regional! One cannot say their craft is based on European or American folklore. Who's folklore? Which countries? Which states? "loreic" is specific enough to imply that the lore of witchcraft shapes what one does while not claiming that one is part of a folk trad they have no connection to.

Certainly, one's craft being a melting pot of ancestral and local lore(s) while having to navigate practicing on stolen, colonized land, is very American in spirit.

Edit: Forgot to mention this! Honestly the biggest difference between trad craft and wicca is the "astral sabbath" I never encountered mention of a "sabbath" (I don't like the word tbh due to its antisemitic origins. I propose the use of Conclave instead?) as a nonphysical, spiritual event within Wicca. If you've spent any time in the trad craft sphere, you'll know it's a main focus of what we do. Idk if wiccans place emphasis on spirit initiation either. I didn't learn of the term until I got into traditional witchcraft.

[evendimmer]

I get wanting to be a witch, what if you want to be a familiar and serve a witch

like yeah my witch is my master but only because i chose to devote myself to you. because you, my witch have earned my devotion, and that itself is a privilege for you, and only you

[folk-angelic]

I wish more Christians practiced kindness, seeing the way the USA is going hurts my heart.

Remember to take some time to do something good in honor of our Lord. ♡