#winter pine candle

[roshni-wellness]

Cozy Up With A Winter Pine Candle For A Warm Atmosphere

Embrace the season with a winter pine candle that adds a touch of nature to your home. This is perfect for creating a cozy and inviting ambiance during the colder months. Learn more by visiting our website!

[coffeenuts]

[life-spire]

[avalon-princesss]

Winter Witch 🤍❄

ETSY SHOP

[anthonyspage]

🌨🏘🌲🪟🎀🌿🕯

[lynne-monstr]

the most damning proof that this year has completely passed me by is that I didn't buy a single pine scented candle yet

[captainicequeen555]

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

Beautiful~

[dionysianivy]

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 🍂🎃

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October is a time of deep spiritual connection, transformation, and preparation for the darker months ahead. For witches, this month holds powerful energy as the veil between worlds becomes thinner, allowing for a deeper connection with spirits and their energies. During this time, we prepare for the colder season, readying ourselves for winter. The vibrations throughout the month are strong, making it the perfect time to practice our magic and align ourselves with the stillness of the approaching winter season. 

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Celebrations: 

Samhain/Halloween

(Samhain, meaning "summer's end," marks the end of the light half of the Celtic year and the beginning of the dark half. It's a time when the boundary between worlds grows thin. According to legend, on this day, the Dagda, the father god, and the Morrigan, the "phantom queen," unite to ensure fertility for the land, people, and animals in the coming year. The Morrigan, often described as a goddess of war, begins the ritual as an old woman but is restored to youth and beauty through their union.)

Planet:

Moon 

Flowers: 

Angelica, Marigold, Heather, Chrysantemum, Dahlia

Herbs/Plants: 

Sage, rosemary, witch hazel, catnip, garlic, allspice, bittersweet, patchouli, bay leaves, pumpkins 

Tarot Cards: 

The Death, The Devil 

Fruits:

Apple, pomegranate, grapes, pears, cranberries 

Deities: 

Nephthys, Hecate, Hel, Banba, Durga, Kali, Hades, Loki, Odin, Badb, Arawn, Belenus, the Dagda, Demeter, Persephone, Cernunnos, Morrigan 

Colors: 

Dark green, black, orange, deep red, purple, brown 

Runes: 

Wunjo, Hagalaz 

Crystals: 

Obsidian, onyx, carnelian, amethyst, opal, citrine 

Animals: 

Raven, crow, bat, spider, stag, scorpion, owl, cat 

Trees: 

Beech, willow 

Symbols: 

Acorns, pumpkins, raven, skull, broomstick 

Magical powers: 

Garden magic, communicating with spirits, connecting with other realms (otherworld), scrying, death (letting go of the old and welcoming the new), connecting with ancestors, shadow work, fertility, transformation, balance, inner peace. 

ACTIVITIES TO DO:

🎃Celebrate Samhain and Halloween

🎃Connect with your ancestors or the spirits of your loved ones

🎃Bake autumn recipes

🎃Use cinnamon essential oil in your practice

🎃Practice pumpkin magick

🎃Light candles and relax

🎃Do daily tarot readings

🎃Honor your ancestors or loved ones who have passed away by creating a special altar or offering them gifts

🎃Read about the history of witches

🎃Collect pine cones or acorns

🎃Decorate your home to welcome the spooky vibe

🎃Try rune divination

🎃Connect with the elements of Water and Fire

🎃Watch Halloween movies

🎃Include October elements in your practice (such as apple magic, manifesting with bay leaves, or using pumpkin seeds in spells)

🎃Experiment with new magical skills. You could try a new spell or explore different types of magic, like faerie or draconic magic

(Even though I wasn’t a huge fan of autumn before, this time of year—especially October—is when I feel the busiest, most inspired, and most connected to my craft. I’m especially excited to communicate with dragons! :D)

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tip jar🎭

[thecupidwitch]

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

[roshni-wellness]

Exploring the Allure of Coconut-Scented Candles | RoshniWellness

Explore the appeal of candles with a coconut aroma by coming with RoshniWellness! Dive into the calming qualities and alluring scent of coconut, from its historical origins to its contemporary popularity. Take a fragrant journey to calmness and relaxation, regardless of whether you're interested in aromatherapy or candles. For additional details, view the presentation! visit us at: https://issuu.com/roshniwellness789/docs/grey_minimalist_business_project_presentation_

[actuallysaiyan]

hihihi!! this is for your lovely valentines day event!! i was thinking maybe SDV Sebastian tries to plan the most romantic Valentine’s Day, but everything falls through and he has to try and improvise to impress reader! it can be nsfw or sfw its totally up to you!! :)) 💕

warnings: mentions of drinking, use of vibrator, Sebastian is a nasty little thing, Robin knows y'all are gonna get nasty word count: 1.1k pairings: Sebastian x Fem!Reader summary: Valentine's Day usually sucks for Seb, and this one is no different...except he really needs it to go well despite all his plans crumbling before his eyes.

Sebastian cannot believe how terribly this is going. After all the planning he put into today, it was just all crumbling before his very eyes. He’s been pining after you ever since the spring Flower dance, and now it’s winter and it’s valentine’s day and he had everything all planned out in the best way. Yet it just wasn’t going to work out in his favor.

The secret gift he had made for you? Somehow someone got into his room and it got pushed off the shelf. So the clay figurine of your character in Solarian Chronicles is completely destroyed. He had written you a sweet song, but for the life of him, he can’t find the notebook he wrote it in. And even the gift he ordered for you online isn’t going to show up on time.

Sebastian lays on his bed, his eyes closed tight and his breathing coming in and out quickly. He’s got just a few hours to be able to improvise for you, otherwise things are going to become even more terrible. He texts Sam for advice, then he texts Abigail. They both have different ideas for what he can do to make this work, but Sebastian begins working harder. He knows he’s going to have to figure something out. So he calls up the Saloon and he begs Gus to cook him up some sort of meal for you and him. Gus decides to do this favor for Sebastian, telling him to come pick it up within the hour.

The next thing he’s planning is to make his room a little more romantic. He changes the sheets, finds a few candles to light and cleans off the table so you both can eat there. Then he goes upstairs, looking for his mother. 

Robin cheerfully helps her son plan the rest of the night sweetly. She reminds the rest of the family not to bother the happy couple, and she even gives Sebastian a bottle of champagne. He’s blushing as she hands this to him, a soft “have fun!” coming from her lips. Sebastian doesn’t even know what she’s thinking, but he knows she can probably deduce that there will be something naughty going on downstairs.

In the backyard, Seb begins picking some flowers. He doesn’t have a gift to give you, but he knows you love flowers. And once he gets a nice bouquet going, he spots Linus. The older man flashes him a soft smile, knowing that Sebastian is working his hardest to still make this a very romantic day. Despite the cold, Sebastian manages to pluck beautiful Crocus flowers and a few Holly for some balance.

Once he’s got the pretty bouquet of winter flowers, he settles them in a vase in his room. Sebastian takes a moment to look around and admire his handiwork. This bedroom was going to be the perfect setting for such a romantic evening. All that was left was for him to go pick you and the meals up. He takes the quickest shower and gets dressed in a warm hoodie and those tight jeans you love so much.

On his way to pick you up, his stomach is in knots. He’s worried you’ll be disappointed by the lack of real gifts and the way this night would go down. But when you greet him on the porch of your home, you’ve got the biggest smile on your face.

“Happy valentine’s day!” You say with a sweet kiss to his cheek.

He smiles, “Happy valentine’s day.”

You two share a sweet little kiss, and he pulls you in so close. It’s a sweet moment between two lovers, and he never wants this to end. Then he takes you by the hand and leads you towards the town center. You two stop at the Saloon to pick up the delicious dinner that Gus had prepared for you. He passes it to Sebastian, a playful wink and a glint in his eyes.

The walk back to Sebastian’s place has you so giddy. It feels like you’re floating on a cloud as you tell him about your day and he listens to you so attentively. Your heart is so full of love and happiness.  

Inside his room, he pours some champagne for you and you two sit and eat such a delectable meal. Seb presents the flowers to you, which you coo over. You sheepishly give him a cute little valentine’s card you made for him. You scratch the back of your neck nervously, telling him you’ve been busy taking care of the animals and mining lately to make him anything more than that.

He smiles softly, “It’s perfect, baby.”

After dinner, you’re both full of champagne. It bubbles inside of both of you, coursing through your veins. Sebastian has you pinned to the bed, kissing you over and over. The way he holds you and kisses you makes your head spin. He presses his knee between your thighs, smirking at the way you moan from just this.

“Would you believe that when I got up this morning,” Sebastian asks between heated kisses. “That I thought everything was fucked up?”

You giggle, “Knowing you, yeah I’m not so surprised.”

He feigns being insulted, but it fuels him even more. He begins undressing you slowly, his eyes lingering on your beautiful body. Then he begins to press soft kisses to your most sensitive spots, relishing in the way you moan and gasp just for him. It’s so intoxicating to know that you react to the way he makes you feel so good. It’s something he prides himself on, and he knows he’s not going to stop anytime soon.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grunts as he grinds against you. “I’m kind of happy this is how this night turned out.”

You mewl, “Me too, Sebby.”

He grins mischievously before reaching over for the drawer in the bedside table. You know what he’s reaching for and it makes your heart race like crazy. The sounds of the vibrations coming from the wand vibrator make your cunt dribble even more slick. Sebastian chuckles darkly.

“Cute,” he murmurs hotly against your neck. “Just hearing this thing gets you going, yeah?”

You nod your head, making him chuckle again. Then he brings the vibrator to your aching cunt, and you cry out for him. The sounds of your cute little moans make his cock strain against the fabric of his boxers. Slowly, he lets the vibrator circle around your swollen nub. Sebastian has you exactly where he wants you.

“All mine…All mine for valentine’s day. My perfect valentine.”

[matchavellichor]

A Losing Game

A/N: was in the mood to write pure filth so here's some jealous sebastian smut lul. also i left the context intentionally vague so that i could maybe write a prequel sometime but i hope it's clear they absolutely hate each other loool

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC - NSFW - 4.4k words - ao3

Summary: Watching his long-time rival and dueling partner kiss someone else ignites feelings in Sebastian that has him questioning just how similar hate is to desire.

Tags: Yule Ball, Enemies to Lovers, Pining Sebastian, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Mild Prey/Predator, No Safeword

For the first time in their many years of friendship, Sebastian is the one being dragged to a social event he has no interest in being a part of. Ominis, taking no small amount of pleasure in this, leads them into the Great Hall with an amused smirk on his face, only biting his tongue because he’s respectful of present company. Sebastian frowns.

His robes are scratchy, his date is doused in a nausea-inducing amount of flowery perfume, and there’s not nearly enough firewhiskey in the spiked punch this year.

He tells himself pointedly, as if it’s a matter of public record, that he isn’t looking for her.

Even as his eyes comb over the crowd, and there’s a little pang of disappointment in his gut when he still doesn’t spot her after the third sweep.

“Stop sulking,” Ominis murmurs from beside him. “You look miserable.”

Sebastian proceeds to sulk even more. “How would you know how I look?”

“I’m blind, not oblivious.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table the blonde had chosen and preparing himself for an entire night of brooding.

He’d have no qualms in remaining seated in their desolate little corner for the entirety of the evening, but his date—Bianca or Beatrice or, maybe something with a D—has other plans.

She titters something about dancing, and then she’s suddenly tugging on his arm and dragging him towards parquet floors. In no mood to protest, he lets himself get weaved through pairs of students who are doing anything but respecting Headmaster’s Black rule to maintain a Potions textbook length apart.

So much for leaving room for Merlin.

He manages a tight-lipped smile when they stop under a cloud charmed to sprinkle snowflakes, small flurries of white blending into a halo around them. It’s a truly beautiful sight, a winter wonderland of silver and gold englobing them, yet despite this, Sebastian’s demeanor is tight and forced, starkly unhappy.

He pretends he doesn’t understand the reasoning behind his sour mood. Pretends he isn’t thinking about someone else’s hands, someone else’s smell, someone else’s eyes, and the obvious absence of them.

Sebastian feels dreadfully pathetic clinging to the prospect of even simply seeing her as a motivator to suffer through the remainder of the night.

He wonders when he became such a pining, spineless idiot and deduces it must’ve been somewhere during the first dozen times she’d knocked him on his ass in a duel. Surely, a screw was knocked loose then. Or a couple.

Sebastian swallows his displeasure and takes hold of a hand that’s not the right size, that doesn’t have the calluses and rough edges in the places he’s already far too familiar with. It’s easy to fall into pace, but it’s hard to enjoy it. Hard to pretend he’s dancing with someone else.

It’s then, glancing over his date’s shoulder through the haze of floating candles and snowflakes, that he finally catches sight of what he has decidedly not been thinking about all evening.

From the way he stills and all his attention narrows in on one person, you’d think Salazar Slytherin himself just made an appearance butt-naked on a unicycle.

Breath-taking is an understatement. Asphyxiating might be a more valiant contender. Sebastian would be impressed with himself if he managed to get enough oxygen in his lungs to keep his brain functioning for an entire night of staring at her across dance floors.

His eyes comb over every inch of the blood red floor-length gown she has on, head-to-toe, gaze rising to dust over the blush high on her cheekbones, even further up to the gems crested in her hair.

He takes a deep, fortifying breath, though it doesn’t do him any good.

Then, his attention narrows in on the person accompanying her and it’s like his stomach immediately pitches, falls down six flights of stairs, and subsequently plummets into a dark abyss, landing at the bottom with a pathetic, defeated sort of sound.

Because her arm is tucked into the crook of someone else’s elbow, and she’s smiling at something someone else is whispering in her, and despite being only a few feet away at this point, she doesn’t even spare a glance at Sebastian.

Instead, she drapes an arm around her date’s neck, which he reciprocates with a hand at the small of her back, pulls their bodies closer and—

Sebastian squeezes his eyes shut and refuses to look, turning away from what feels like betrayal, though he knows is the farthest thing from it.

Maybe that’s what feels the worst. What makes his mouth taste so bitter he could gag from it. It’s the realization that he has no right to feel so upset about any of it. That he can’t expect anything from her.

That she isn’t his.

His shoulders stiffen and he suddenly stops any movements, letting his hands drop from where they were rested at a chiffon-covered waist, stepping away.

His date calls his name, emitting some cross between a petulant whine and indignant scoff, but he doesn’t really hear her. He’s busy high-tailing towards the drink table and doing the mental math for how many teal-coloured glasses of spiked punch he’ll have to drink to self-induce a coma.

Ominis, with his hell-anointed sixth sense, meets him three-quarters of the way there, falling into step as they weave through pairs of students.

“This is your own doing, you know.”

He’s right, yet Sebastian would still throttle him if there weren’t so many witnesses around. He ignores him.

“Sebastian,” Ominis sighs. “You’re being childish.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“I’m not trying to,” Ominis says. “I thought I’d already made myself clear that I was on her side concerning this.”

Sebastian scowls. “Some friend you are.”

“All you had to do was ask her.”

“Asking her is admitting defeat,” Sebastian mutters over the rim of the glass he just poured himself. “She wouldn’t have ever let me live it down.”

“I don’t understand this game you two play,” Ominis frowns. “Would it have been so hard for you to humble yourself for just a moment?”

Sebastian takes a long drink. “Yes. In front of her, it would’ve been.”

“Then enjoy watching her dance with someone else for the remainder of the evening.”

Sebastian has just about decided to actually throttle Ominis, witnesses be damned, but he’s already making his way back into the crowd, out of reach.

Sebastian groans, yet doesn’t go after him. Refuses to.

From his position on the outskirts of the dance floor, he’s in blissful ignorance of whatever it is she’s doing at the moment. Despite the curiosity eating away at him from the inside, it’s some form of solace that at least he can’t see the smile he’d caught on her face. Can’t see the glow in her eyes, or her hands on her date’s robes, or all the affection he craves so ardently misdirected towards someone else.

Somehow, it’s worse.

And then, as if Fortune, on his damned quarry smiling, has decided Sebastian hasn’t endured enough for one pitiful night already, the steady crescendo of a waltz begins to build.

The crowd pulses and sways in tempo with the symphony, leaving breaches and eyelets, brief openings that he can’t tear his eyes away from, because even if it hurts, he needs to see her again.

That’s how he catches sight of her for the second time that evening. Like the seas parting to reveal a miracle, she finds herself right in his line of vision.

Sebastian conveys the tightening he feels in his chest into an ice-cold glower, features hardened. He prays she’ll just look. Even if it’s something fleeting, a split second of a glance.

Once again, her eyes never make their way anywhere near him.

It’s almost intentional, in a way that drives him insane. As if she knows where he is, and she’s skirting over him pointedly, antagonistically. Sebastian wouldn’t be surprised if it were intentional, a gleaming testimony to all the other ways she manages to get under his skin.

The dancing body of students continues to shift, like a pendulum, back and forth, revealing and concealing. He clings to the momentary sight of her, and still, like a fool, hopes that at some instance she’ll look back. Acknowledge him.

Give him some form of recognition so he doesn’t have to admit defeat so quickly. So that he knows that they’re still playing their game, that he’s not just losing alone.

The composition nears its apex, surrounding gowns and robes reaching a swirling mass of glitter and silks, and something heavy sinks inside of him, an impending sense of foreboding.

He knows what’s coming, somehow.

The orchestra finally reaching its climax.

Her fingers threading through the hairs at the nape of her date’s neck.

Her leaning forward, nose slotting against his, lips hovering over another’s and yet—

He doesn’t look away. Even if it feels like being split open, sternum cracked across the middle, until he’s left with a slick-red, yawning chest cavity.

He can’t look away, because her eyes are open and for the first time in the entire evening, they’re meeting his.

Like most instances involving her, he isn’t sure if he’s winning or losing anymore.

She doesn’t look away, and he can’t bring himself to either. It’s like he’s standing there, split from top to bottom, voluntarily exposed for her to prod at, to ruin. And yet, there’s a bittersweetness to it all.

Her lips aren’t on his, yet she’s looking at him as if she wishes they were.

There’s something taunting in her eyes. Something he might’ve mistaken as a threat if they were in their usual setting, mid-duel in the Undercroft.

A challenge.

It takes him a moment to realize that context shouldn’t matter. This is an invitation for battle, a glaring provocation. He stares.

The sight of her mouth on someone else’s makes bile rise in his throat, makes him so filled with rage and revulsion that he thinks he might suffocate on it all. Yet the sight of her eyes, the sheer amount of longing she’s able to convey in such a short glance, is enough to invigorate him, to channel all his rage and wanting into something else.

His legs move of their own accord.

Her reflexes are as sharp as they are in battle.

The second she sees him coming towards her, she reacts. Murmurs a hurried apology towards her date, who looks so confused Sebastian would almost feel bad for the bloke if he didn’t want to strangle him so violently.

She’s immediately cutting through the crowd towards the opposite direction, her eyes trained on one of the exits. He picks up his speed, but she’s quicker than him, smaller, able to duck through bunches of students with ease, even with her dress hindering her movements.

Adrenaline trickles up his spine. She throws him another glance over her shoulder and smirks, sly and knowing, a look that writhes under his skin in the way her glances always do.

Even if he’s the one chasing her, Sebastian feels awfully like the rodent in their little game of cat and mouse.

They both step into the quiet of the dimly-lit hallway, the sounds of the party bleeding away as the door shuts behind them, casting them in silence.

There’s a split moment where she spins around to look at him, chest heaving. The live-wire tension between them is pulled so taut it’s a miracle the air doesn’t crackle with static.

Neither of them move for a long moment, until her lips curl into a smile.

She breaks into a run and Sebastian doesn’t miss a beat.

He chases after her, his heart pounding with something primal, something instinctive. Like his self-control might slip away from him when he catches her, like he might just sink his teeth into soft flesh, dig his nails into supple skin. She runs as if she’s just as aware of this fact as he is.

He almost wants to punish her for it. Bite and scratch and mark as if in vengeance for her thinking she could ever get away from him. For her forgetting that she’s anything but his, as if she should simply know it by now.

She’s fast, but she’s nearly tripping over the dress she has fisted in her hands, and her heels don’t help. All it takes is for her to stumble around a corner and he’s on her, grabbing her gown, pulling her towards him.

He spins her around, and she grunts when he slams her against the wall. Teeth bared, strands of the elegant updo she’d had her hair in falling down over her shoulders, glittery makeup smeared down her cheeks — she looks like something savage.

For some reason, it makes something deep-set inside Sebastian ache.

“Let go,” she grits, struggling against the hold he has on her wrists, under the weight of his body that has her molded to the wall.

His grip only tightens, frustration simmering low in his gut. Sebastian has never known desire like this, shadowed by fury. Want and anger, love and hate, repulsion and obsession.

“I know what you’re doing,” he hisses.

She stills her thrashing in favor of looking up at him through her lashes with an expression so innocent, it’s crucifying.

“Attending a dance?”

His jaw sets. “Don’t get smart with me.”

“Why, are you having a hard time keeping up?”

He stares at her for a long moment, jaw working in tandem with his thoughts. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and she tilts her head, amused at how worked up he’s gotten.

“I know what you’re doing,” she says.

“And what’s that?”

“Thinking about how badly you want to kill me, probably,” she says. Her eyes fall to his lips and his breath stops in his throat. “Or kiss me. Haven’t quite worked out which one yet.”

“So certain that they’re mutually exclusive,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to mimic hers despite himself. “I think you forget that I’m very multi-faceted.”

“That I’m aware of,” she tilts her chin up, almost as if inviting him to press his mouth to hers, a siren’s call. “You manage to be mind-numbingly stupid and brilliantly obnoxious, all at the same time.”

He scoffs. “And you manage to be the most infuriating person on the planet.”

She seems starkly proud of the title. “What can I say, I invoke passion.”

“You invoke homicidal thoughts.”

“Not the only kinds of thoughts I invoke in you, is it, Sallow?”

He reddens. He’s spent too many showers hunched over his own fist with silencing charms plastered around the tiles for his response to be anything more than a blurted, evocative reaction.

“Anything you think I feel for you is precisely the opposite. I fucking despise you.”

He only notes a split second after that it’s not an outright denial.

Evidently, so does she. Because then, as if she were made to crawl under his skin, writhe underneath it until his nerves were a mess, she smiles.

What he truly despises is how pretty he finds it.

“You don’t hate me.”

He sneers. “Is that so?”

“Hate isn’t the opposite of love. Indifference is,” she leans in. “And I’d hardly call chasing me through the castle simply because I kissed someone else…indifferent.”

He decides then — or more accurately, his too-horny, too-angry, too-impulsive brain decides for him — to wipe the pleased grin off her face the most effective way he knows how.

With a hand fisted in her hair and his mouth crashing against hers.

It isn’t tender or sweet, nor the remotest definition of kind, but it’s fitting and dreadfully familiar, because it’s not like they’ve ever been nice to one another.

He lets go of her wrists to give her some fighting chance, because he’s cruel, but he prides himself on being fair. Instead of pushing him away, or going for her wand, or doing anything to indicate she doesn’t want this, however, she pulls him in. As if she knows exactly how to bring him to his knees, in any and all contexts, and revels in any opportunity to destroy him.

He almost thinks it’s a trap, another one of her grating ploys, but when she tangles her fingers in his hair and drags her nails down his scalp and kisses him back with just as much fervor as he does, it’s hard to believe it’s simply a farce.

Her tongue finds his and Sebastian wonders if they’ll ever do anything together that doesn’t mimic a battle. She fights for dominance in every stroke of her tongue against his, and his stubbornness refuses to grant her it.

“Fuck,” he groans against her mouth, because he’s learning just how much she kisses the same way she duels.

Dirty, unfair, brutal. Like she’s never been afraid of blood, or getting messy, or breaking things.

She stokes a fire that’s been simmering inside him until it’s red-hot and all-consuming, flames licking at the inside of his throat. He pulls her bottom lip between his teeth and bites until he tastes copper, finding some sick form of satisfaction at the pained little whine she lets out.

“You kissed him,” he pants, and there’s something raw in his voice. He rests his forehead against hers and stares at the crimson pooling on her lip. “You kissed him.”

She swallows. “I did.”

Sebastian despises how hurt he sounds. “I could kill him.”

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“I know,” she nods, chest heaving against his. Her voice grows suddenly soft, until it’s barely a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”

He groans, almost pained. “Did you?”

She nods.

“Has he ever touched you?”

She shakes her head.

“Tell the truth,” he says, fingers threading through the tangled remains of her chignon, tilting her face up towards him so he can meet her eyes. “Did you let him touch you?” He presses a leg between her thighs, barely able to feel her through layers of tulle. “Here?”

“No,” she gasps from the contact, nails scrambling to drag down his forearm. “Never.”

“Fuck,” he sighs, and tips his head down to press against her throat, drags his lips over her jaw. “Only me, hm? Say it.”

She shakes her head and his gaze darkens, pulling back to tighten his fingers still tangled in her hair, to tear a whimper from the back of her throat.

“No? Who then?”

“No one,” she whispers, and despite the tight angle her neck is at, despite the fear dancing behind her eyes, she smiles up at him again. “You haven’t touched me yet, though, have you?”

She’s baiting him, and he’s aware of it, and still it manages to work.

He feels his self-restraint slipping through the cracks of his fingers like sand. There’s traces of scarlet on her teeth he wants to drag his tongue over. He wants to suck the marrow from her bones.

He spins her around, presses her cheek into the cool flagstone of the corridor they’re in, and molds his body to hers.

“S-shit,” she curses when his patience wears thin and he yanks at the fabric hiding her body away from his, pulling at the skirt of her gown until it rips. “Asshole.”

“Looks better this way.”

His fingers coast up her thighs to hook into her knickers, tugging them down before she can protest. She gasps and he smiles against her cheek, pushing her hand away when she tries to cover herself.

He nips at her ear, his hand reaching between her legs to cup her sex, reveling in the way she tries to squirm away from him.

“What’s wrong? Going to act shy now?”

“Someone could see,” she grits, though something in her tone tells him she’s not going to stop him.

“Wouldn’t they be lucky.”

His breath stutters when he finally dips his fingers between her folds and finds how soaked she is. Something about the revelation is dizzying, the notion that she could possibly want this as badly as he does. He grinds his hips into her arse so she’s just as aware of how gone he is.

Immediately, his hand is fumbling with his belt, the other pressing bruises into her hip to keep her still. He kicks her feet open wider, spreading her for him. His fingers flex on her hip in anticipation.

“You have full permission to use any Unforgivables you want on me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He groans. “You’re not getting me off of you in any other way.”

When she doesn’t make any move for her wand he positions himself at her entrance, rubbing to coat himself in her fluids. Her breathing is heavy against the wall she’s pressed against, her gasps coming out in soft little pants. He revels in them for a long moment.

Then, he’s impaling her and all of her breathing stops. Replaced instead by a strangled sort of sound, as if he’d managed to knock out all of the air in her lungs with a single thrust. His jaw falls slack.

He manages to composure himself enough to murmur in her ear, voice hoarse. “Hurts?”

She chokes out a sob, nodding weakly. Her head falls against the wall, clenching around him as she tries to adjust to his size.

His hips snap forward again, even harsher this time, burying himself to the hilt and tearing a yelp out of her throat. “Good.”

“S–Sebastian—”

He pauses, so deep inside her he can feel every little pulse, hips flush against her arse. “Want me to stop?”

Miraculously, she shakes her head. It’s never like her to back down from a fight, after all.

“Of course,” he chuckles, though it sounds uncharacteristically strained, imprecise. Like he’s losing his grip. His head falls to her shoulder and he moans, grunting feverishly against her skin as he starts a brutal, unforgiving pace. “You can take it. Look so pretty taking it.”

“Please,” she whines. “Too much, I–I can’t,”

“You’re a tough girl,” he whispers, tone vicious despite his words. “You’re going to shut your fucking mouth and take my cock.”

She nods fervently, obediently, and Sebastian thinks he deserves a medal for not finishing right then. He yanks her hips back from the wall, shifting the angle and she gasps when he feels him push in even deeper.

“Oh my God,” she moans. “Good — feels s’good, yes, yes. Plea–please don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, voice sandpaper-rough. He snakes a hand to her front to rub tight little circles between her legs. “Look at you babbling. Dumb little cock-drunk slut. Can’t even think properly with me inside you like this, can you?”

Her response is too garbled for coherence, a mess of moans and pleas. He groans in a way that’s almost just as saturated with desperation, that tells her she’s not alone in her unraveling. He pulls her head back to smash his lips to her, stifling all kinds of confessions that threaten to escape him.

She breaks the kiss to gasp for air and his fingers swirl against her just right. She tightens. “Gonna — m‘gonna cum,”

“Yeah? Come for me, baby,” his voice breaks on the word, and he’s aware he’s practically begging. He’s too far gone to care, so he scrapes a kiss to her heat-flushed cheek and properly pleads.

“Please. So fucking beautiful. Let me see your pretty face when you come undone for me,” he stares down at her through half-lidded eyes and briefly contemplates the possibility that he’s died and gone to heaven when she looks back at him. “That’s it, look at me.”

He studies her as he sends her over the edge and pulls himself over along with her, her lashes fluttering as she struggles to keep her eyes on his.

The sight is enough to ruin him.

Her makeup a mess from the tear tracks running through them, the hair fisted in his hands in an even worse state, and somehow— she still manages a lopsided smile, as if beyond pleased with herself.

He’s faintly aware of the fact she’s won. He makes peace with the realization.

There’s nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing to fill the silence in the hallway as Sebastian tries to regain his bearings, still buried inside her. Neither of them move for a long moment, and Sebastian likens it to the peace following a war, a brief period of prosperity.

He’s conscious that it’s temporary.

She winces when he finally pulls out of her, their shared spend trickling down the insides of her thighs, her knees nearly giving out to the point he has to hold her up, even if his own legs feel dreadfully unstable.

It doesn’t take her long for her to detach her body from his own, to duck under his arm and slip away. Panic suddenly seizes his chest, dread trickling up his spine. For some reason, he can’t bear to watch her leave. He opens his mouth to say something—an apology, maybe—but she beats him to it.

“That was fun,” she says plainly, glancing back at him over her shoulder. It’s as if they’d just finished another duel. Hardly anything to bat an eye at. Sebastian is at a remarkable loss for words.

She hasn’t continued down the hallway, but she looks as if she’s prepared to.

He’s faintly aware of the fact he probably looks like a fish right now, jaw still slack.

When he doesn’t say anything, she turns her attention to righting her underthings and fixing the tattered remains of her gown. He watches her.

“Goodnight, Sebastian.”

Suddenly sprung to life by the threat of her absence, he takes a step forward. “I’ll walk you back.”

She snorts. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Unless, you’d like to, uh,” he stares down at his shoes, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I could transfigure something for us in the Undercroft.”

She looks amused. “My god, you’re insatiable.”

He reddens. “I didn’t mean—oh, Salazar, to sleep…I meant to sleep.”

She turns to face him fully and raises her brows. “You’re asking me if I’d like to forego my own bed in order to spend the night with you in a dusty cellar?”

Mortification washes over him. Why would she? He should’ve kept his mouth shut and walked her to her dorm room instead of deluding himself with the notion that this could’ve been anything more than a quick fuck.

She stares at him expectantly and his fingers twitch at his side with the desire to grab his wand and promptly Avada himself.

It’s then that she decides to saunter over to him, taking her time, until she’s right beside him and can tuck her arm into his. She gestures forward, almost impatient.

“Go on then. I’m little spoon.”

[vivwritescrappythings]

words fall short

knight!könig x plus-size!fem!reader

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 5 - part 6

you can’t stop thinking about some rude words said about you at last night’s feast, but your knight doesn’t let you worry for long.

tw: plus size reader, fem reader, kissing!, negative self talk, body image issues

wc: 2.5k

masterlist

—

Winter’s chill had settled over the castle. Snow blanketed the courtyards and gardens, ice frosting the windows with flowers at the corners of the panes. The evenings stretched longer, fires became more comforting.

You found your days occupied with the other ladies in court, the social season in full swing as you attended parties and feasts and balls. It was hard to watch your father still hold out hope, each event had him sending middle-aged suitors your way. Each one was worse than the last, his desperation apparently growing.

König did not broach the subject of your dance, so neither did you. You chalked it up to the lack of sleep and your knight being far too kind. That was all it could be, a misunderstanding on his part of his duties. Maybe he did not like seeing you dejected.

Nothing more.

The day was slow and lazy, a thick layer of snow covering the land around the palace forced everyone to the comfort of their hearths. You were curled up in an overstuffed armchair near the large fireplace in the library, slippers kicked off onto the carpet and knees drawn up beneath your skirts as you read.

The library was your favorite part of your father’s decision to relocate you to the royal palace, you had never had access to so many books in your life. It was a lesser-traversed part of the castle, members of the King’s Counsel occasionally searching the shelves for some historical ledger that had been filed away. They hardly did more than green you politely.

If anything, König’s presence was what alerted them, his large stature looming near a column that stood a few paces away from your preferred armchair. Their gasps of surprise pulled you out of your reading, your eyelashes fluttering over your cheekbones before your gaze cut to König’s conspiratorially.

He always met your smirk with a slow blink of his blue eyes beneath his shroud. You were starting to memorize the broad variety of his expressions, hanging onto every movement of his eyes and tilt of his head. It was easier to decipher what he was feeling—his eyes were shockingly expressive when you actually paid attention to them.

Any time he startled a lord he straightened up like a peacock ruffling its own feathers, squaring his shoulders and stacking his head at the top of his spine rather than his typical slouch. That was when you realized he enjoyed the way they paled at the sight of him, their stammered greetings to you.

You would not have been surprised to learn he was smiling beneath the shroud.

You thumbed through the book in your lap absently, chewing your lower lip as you stared at the flames crackling in the hearth. There were few interruptions that morning but you still found yourself distracted.

Words from last night’s feast still lingered in your mind.

At first it had been a normal evening. The great hall had been outfitted with long tables lined with candles and greenery from pines arranged into elegant centerpieces. The king was celebrating the birth of yet another son, so the food was plentiful and the drink flowed freely.

Even you had been allowed a cup of dark blackberry wine so sweet it nearly hurt your teeth.

It warmed you from head to toe, your smile coming easier and conversation tumbling from your lips before you could even consider your words. You had been seated with other ladies from the court, your father up on the dais with the king and the queen.

You were speaking with Mary across the table when you heard the first whisper of your name intermingled with the voices around you. It ran a chill down your spine like a fingernail sliding along your vertebrae.

It was impossible to place. Perhaps it was not your name at all, just a string of syllables that sounded enough like it to alert you. Slant rhymes had always been your favorite poetic device, why would you not encounter it in real life as well? Or at least it was easy enough to convince yourself of it the first time.

The sound of your name kept going off like a bell, the word said so softly each time that you continued to convince yourself it was something else entirely. Mary did not seem to notice, so you wrote it off as paranoia.

The first snippet of conversation reached you as the bards took their first break and guests stood to stretch their legs. It was quiet, just a scratch at the edge of your ear. “I heard that her sister married into the Garrick family, but her poor father is desperate to find a match for her.”

You looked up, jaw set as you scanned the people around you. None seemed to be looking your way. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been tossed over your head, soaking you to the bone.

“Well, she is rather strange compared to what I have heard of her sister, it is said that Ser Garrick married a great beauty.”

“Unfortunate that it does not run in the family.”

Strange.

Strange.

Strange.

It was all you could think about. You never found out who said it, part of you was glad that you never knew who labeled you as such.

You had tossed and turned the entire night, worrying over being thought strange. Strange. You were many things: brash, loud, difficult, stubborn… but strange? It hurt more than you had expected it to.

König had noticed your sour mood as he escorted you back to your chambers, badgering you to know what had happened. You did not have the heart to tell him. The fear of looking into the cool blue of his gaze and finding that he, too, believed you to be strange was too great. You did not think you could bear it.

So you let the word fester.

“My lady.” You jolted at the sound of König’s voice cutting through your thoughts. It took you a few moments to blink the blur out of your vision before you looked up at him over the back of the armchair, the emerald green fabric soft against your cheek.

“Yes?” you responded, sounding more exasperated than you intended. He took a few steps forward, the gray cloak affixed to his shoulders swishing against his armor with his movements.

Your tone must have made him reconsider before he shook his head slightly, the fabric of the black hood over his face settling into place once more. “It is obvious that something is on your mind, my lady,” he finally said, slouching to meet your gaze. “You have not even turned a page in several minutes.”

Heat of embarrassment blistered across your face before you could even think to deny König’s words. You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that he should be paying more attention to your surroundings than your mannerisms.

Instead you took a breath, looking away from the knight back to the fire. “Do you think I am strange, König?” you asked. You allowed the cover of your book to fall shut, fingertips running over the fabric.

He paused for a moment, cocking his head to one side. You watched as he cast a long glance around the room before moving in front of you, kneeling on the plush rug with one knee as his forearms rested on the flat of his thigh.

Your eyes widened, you straightened a bit out of your contorted sitting position. The question begged a yes or no answer, not something… intimate.

“Why would you think that?” König asked, his accent making the words harsh. It was so sincere you already felt the sting of tears in your eyes.

You huffed, expression crumpling. The frescoes on the buttressed ceiling begged for your attention as you tried to find your words. “Last night… during the feast I overheard a conversation about my being strange and that being the reason my father has struggled to find me a match.”

It pained you to admit it. Repeating the words made it feel so much more real.

You took a deep breath, pressing on despite the tears building at your lash line. “So it begs the question, do you think I am strange?” You were brave enough to look at him again. “You are the only person I can ask. The other ladies in court would lie and my father would as well.”

König’s deep breath was audible, his body leaning toward you. His head tilted back, the two of you close enough that you could see the light of the fire on his blonde eyelashes.

“I think you are wonderful, my lady.”

His gloved hand took yours from where it rested on the cover of your book, fingertips smoothing over the ridges of your knuckles as he drew your hand toward his chest.

Your heart was in your throat, his compliment rendering you speechless. It would be easy for you to try to dismiss his words as a lie, brush them off as a kindness to you. But his eyes were sincere, rounded with gentleness as he looked up at you.

“Wonderful seems like an exaggeration,” you mumbled. You suddenly felt too aware of the extra flesh beneath your chin, the way your upper arm spread out as it pressed against your side.

König snorted, shaking his head.

You spoke before he could, gently trying to tug your hand back. He kept it in his hold. “They also wasted no time comparing me to the great beauty that is my sister.”

“Your sister?” König kept close, his hip pressed against the emerald green cushion of the armchair. “The woman with you at the tourney?”

You nodded, scraping your teeth over your lower lip without mercy. At that rate you would chew it until you were bleeding.

He shrugged, his breastplate now touching your thigh through your heavy skirts. “She was beautiful, yes, but no more so than you,” he said, the same sincerity in his tone. “It was you that caught my eye, my lady.”

“Truthfully?” you asked, voice trembling.

König’s free hand reached up, his palm finding the curve of your cheek. The leather of his glove was warm, broken in enough that it felt almost soft.

“I would not lie to you.” There was no room for you to question him.

You took a deep breath, your cheek pressed into his palm as you looked down at him. Your throat was closing, tears stinging behind your eyes as you struggled for something to say.

Then König surprised you.

He released your hand, pinching the bottom of the black hood over his face as he leaned even further into you. You watched the frayed edge of the fabric lift higher and higher, greedily awaiting the secrets beneath.

His skin was just as pale as you expected, gnarled scars marking his neck. The scar tissue was shiny and white in some areas, tinged pink with lingering irritation in others. You wondered if he sustained the wounds in battle along the eastern border, but you could not find your voice to ask.

Honey-blonde stubble scraped across jaw, the same color and the locks of hair you could see curling out from beneath the fabric of his hood. You would never have guessed his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders. If anything, you expected it to be cropped close to his scalp.

Two scars met on his chin, crossing into an X just below the curve of his lower lip. One went vertical, bisecting his pale pink mouth before jutting off to the right and disappearing beneath the black fabric of his hood.

“König,” you whispered, bewildered at what earned you the privilege of seeing his face, even just a part of it.

“Forgive me, my lady, my words simply continue to fall short.”

His palm slid against your cheek, fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he brought your lips to his. You braced a hand against his chest, the metal of his armor smooth beneath your touch. His heartbeat thrummed somewhere beneath all the layers.

It took you a moment to kiss him back, your eyelashes brushing against the bunched up fabric of his hood as you finally closed your eyes. Your mouth moved clumsily against his—the most you had ever kissed was the cook’s son behind the grainery when you were fourteen. It was a tender and nervous thing, far from the slow and sure press of König’s lips.

His fingers caressed the hinge of your jaw, tilting your head to match the slant of his. The scrape of his stubble against your face sent chills all the way to your toes. Your mouth parted on a soft sigh, letting him slot his scarred lower lip between them.

The feeling of his smile was so distracting that you almost pulled away just so you could finally see it.

There was a vague sense of danger curling up your spine as his tongue teased between your lips. You should have pushed him away, rebuked him for advancing on you and immediately searched for your father. Instead you were leaning so far toward him you would have toppled out of the arm chair if not for the spread of his shoulders and his forearm pressed against your collarbone.

“You must meet my daughter, I assure you she has a wit that catches most lords off guard.” It was your father’s voice drifting between the shelves of books that reminded you of the severity of the situation.

König was already pulling away, dropping his hood back into place as he gracefully brought himself to his feet. You removed your hands from him with reluctance, the only soothing balm the quick press of his lips against your hairline through the fabric.

You did not have enough time to marvel at his speed before your father and a lord you did not recognize rounded the last shelf into your little alcove. Your knight was already at his typical spot against the column, studying the newcomer for threats.

A fake smile plastered itself to your face, hiding the fact that you wanted to scream as you stood to curtsy. The man already was appraising you, watching you like you were a horse he was purchasing.

“Lord Fischer, meet my daughter,” he said cordially. The man was your father’s age, maybe older. But he smiled and greeted you politely.

You wanted to retreat into König’s embrace, pepper kisses along his scarred throat and coax his lips back to yours. Instead you sat down across from your father and Lord Fischer with your hands folded in your lap. The conversation was polite, nothing remarkable or interesting was said before your father proposed he joined you for supper that evening. It was the last thing you wanted, but nevertheless you stood and walked with your father and Lord Fischer to your father’s chambers.

As always, König dutifully followed.

[anthonyspage]

❄️🌲🪟🌟🕯🌿✨

[heatherwitch]

Bedridden witch: Seasons edition

I made a series for The Wheel of the Year many years ago but I realize that not everyone follows it and dividing suggestions into the four seasons as well might be more helpful for some!

Spring 🌿

Collect the first rain of the season and keep it in a jar

Drink floral or fruit teas

Burn floral or fruit scented candles

Light a candle or turn on an electric candle.

Open the curtains to let light in. 

Visualize a light cleaning each and every room in your home.

Decorate with dried, fresh or fake flowers.

Spray a cleansing spray throughout your bedroom.

Clean an area in your home, big or small. (It could be as simple as making a pile of trash so it’s easier to move later.)

Bathe yourself (either in the tub or sponge bath style). Infuse some herbs/flowers into the water!

Water your plants and whisper blessings to them.

Plant something new! It can be as simple as a beansprout in a paper cup.

Meditate and imagine yourself out in your favorite area in spring.

Make a terrarium.

Spray floral water in the air and on your bedsheets.

Watch for and welcome the returning birds

Learn about local plants.

Crack open all your windows to let in some fresh air.

Bedridden witch: Garden edition

Summer ☀️

Make sun water/tea

Drink fruit teas, infused water or juices

Burn floral or fruit candles

Decorate with flowers and crystals.

Wake up earlier than usual to enjoy a full day of light.

Try to be awake and witness both the sunrise and sunset.

Decorate your windows with rainbow prisms.

Make flower crowns with fresh, dried or paper flowers.

Make sure sunlight and fresh air can reach you.

Enjoy some fresh fruits, veggies, nuts and seeds.

Decorate with/wear/create things with bright colors:

Decorate a new pot for your plants (painting, sharpies, ribbons, etc.)

If you can, put a bird feeder outside your window or just watch them as they fly by.

Pour an offering of water for the plants (indoors, outside or out the window).

Have a picnic (outside, on the kitchen floor or in bed).

Find a way to incorporate honey into your day (scrubs, food, tea, etc.)

Burn beeswax candles.

Listen to music that just sounds like summertime.

Autumn 🍂

Collect the first rain of the season and keep it in a jar

Drink spiced tea, apple ciders

Infuse berries into water.

Burn spiced, woodsy or autumn scented candles

Eat things like breads, nuts, grapes, pomegranates, pies, apples and root vegetables.

Start a new project like crocheting or knitting. This is also a great time to finish that project you’ve been avoiding.

Wear and decorate and create with browns, golds, dark greens, oranges and yellows.

Decorate your home to make it look more like Autumn (fake or real leaves, acorns, paper cutouts, etc.)

Create a picnic/feast wherever is reasonable, with a little bit of everything.

Pull up a video of leaves falling or a fire crackling.

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin spiced-things, pumpkin seeds.

Decorate with small pumpkins, paint them or draw on them if carving is too high-energy.

Create an altar honoring loved ones who have passed on, either a material one or a photo album online.

Pull up a video of a burning fire or light candles.

Turn off all of the lights and sit/lay in darkness.

Visualize your wards and boost your home protection.

Do spirit work/leave offerings for the spirits.

Burn incense/make a spray that smells of spices (cloves, basil, etc.)

Watch spooky/witchy movies.

Winter ❄️

Collect the first snow/make snow water and keep it in a jar

Drink seasonal teas, ciders and hot cocoa

Burn spruce, pine or winter scented candles

Watch gifs/videos of snow, ice forming, fire crackling, etc.

Get/make a small wreath and keep it indoors!

Keep clear quartz and snowflake obsidian around.

Make paper snowflakes! Or find an app/website where you can do a digital one.

Use your heat to draw sigils on frosted windows.

Put a bird feeder outside your window so you get winter visitors!

Get empty glass ornaments and fill them with herbs/pine needles/things that remind you of winter and hang them around.

Get some cute little snow globes. 

Decorate with winter colors! White, blue, silver, grey, dark green, etc.

Create an apple pomander with cloves or dried orange slices.

Decorate with evergreen boughs, holly, pine cones, etc.

Wash your face with snow/cold water.

Make rosehip, peppermint, vanilla, rooibos or spiced tea.

Step outside/open a window to feel the cold air (if you live somewhere warm, do this in the early morning/night).

Handcraft gifts for loved ones or write heartfelt cards/letters to the people you care about.

Put birdseed outside/a bird feeder by your window.

Make a simmer pot, or use this idea to create a scented spray.

Bedridden witch: Winter edition (more ideas in this post!)

You may also like:

Bedridden witch series

Bedridden witch: Wheel of the year edition

Bedridden witch: Elements edition

Bedridden witch: Weather edition

Bedridden witch: Nature edition

Witchcraft for the chronically fatigued

Spoonie witch masterpost