#I was going for 'eucalyptus' vibes

[smalltimidbean]

I would bet

A Bruno clone

With

Koala dna!

World's Eepiest Fella.............. (s)

[manifestingmatcha]

✨My Glow Up tips✨

Drink a lot of water it benefits your body in every way bonus points if you add lemon. If you crave soda Olipop is a good alternative.

Eat little meals made with whole foods throughout the day it really does make a difference.

Go on hot girl walks get fresh air and sunshine every day.

Drink green juices and smoothies it’s the easiest way to get in all your fruits and veggies plus you can add supplements.

Skincare is self care it’s literally the canvas for your makeup so invest in your products. Keep it simple and be consistent with your routine.

Learn to read food labels ideally you want to know how to pronounce every ingredient.

Drink less alcohol bloating and hangovers aren’t hot.

Educate yourself on vitamins and supplements to target what you want to improve. For immune system you want vitamin c and zinc and for beauty you want a collagen supplement.

Lip filler: research your provider make sure you vibe with them and feel comfortable. Start slow and gradually build to your desired shape and size. (not everyone needs filler/botox only if you want it)

Contacts over glasses is my personal preference.

Choose a signature scent for every season.

Keratin hair treatments they make styling so easy and your hair looks shiny and perfect for weeks.

Natural nail colors are the most flattering. OPI and Essie make the best nudes.

Invest in classic basics for your closet black and white t-shirts denim and shoes. Think about cost per wear quality vs quantity ect. Zara is my favorite store for inexpensive trendy pieces.

Wear signature jewelry mine are gold hoops diamond studs and dainty necklaces. Mejuri is my favorite jeweler.

Cleaning and organizing your home is therapy. Light a Fall candle and deep clean your space once a week and you will feel refreshed.

Exfoliate your face and body a few times a week

Ice roll and gua sha your face it instantly de puffs and lifts.

Plant medicine personally I love cannabis and it’s been a positive life changing medicine for me.

Therapy: I believe everyone can benefit from it.

Never stop learning read often about whatever topics you’re interested in.

For improved hair skin and nails put collagen powder in your coffee or smoothies every day.

Put fresh eucalyptus and lavender in your shower or a few drops of essential oils for the best most relaxing bath.

Brush and floss often and occasionally use Crest white strips for whitening your teeth.

Journaling is so important on paper or even in your notes app on your phone.

Learn manifesting techniques your mindset is everything.

Get a professional bra fitting and match your lingerie it will make you feel confident and hot.

[dumplingsfordays]

Reading 30 Strales and omg Blade smelling like citrus sounds amazing. I've been playing for about 3 weeks and after fulling catching up on the trailblazer quests I was like dang blade kills people a lot right, he probably smells like blood 24/7 that's so gross. All this to say... reject logic, I agree that blade smells like citrus. Do you have thoughts on what any of the others would smell like?

what the hsr men smell like

ft. blade, gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, luocha, and welt

cw!: mentions of blood, no pronouns for reader mentioned, implied relationship, cuddling, swearing, super fluffy :)

note - thank you so much for reaching out to me omg 🥺 i reject logic too so that's how the whole citrus thing came to be ajsjdk. also i know absolutely nothing about colognes/fragrances so i'm sorry if i mess some of these up ;-; hope you're having a great day/night though pookie <3

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

blade

~ as mentioned above, def smells like citrus and bergamot.

~ sometimes you can catch a little metallic-y whiff of (cough cough) def not blood (cough cough), but it never lasts for long - when he hugs you, the smell of oranges invades your senses like a light summer breeze~

~ and don't get me started on how obsessed he is w this scent. if he stays somewhere for even 1-2 days, you know he's bringing along his 3 freakin citrus-scented candles!!

~ please run your fingers thru his hair when you're hanging out or cuddling. please. he will melt from headpats and your fingers will smell like his shampoo for the rest of the day, and since you love the scent of gentle lime, why not?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

gepard

~ omg this man!! he's totally giving cashmere + hot cocoa for some reason??? he doesn't really use cologne/fragrances and prefers his natural scent, but does use cashmere and vanilla body wash + shampoo.

~ like sure, after a busy day at work or training he'll kinda smell like sweat but will immediately take a shower when he gets home. he hates being sweaty and thinks it's icky if he does for too long-

~ and when you snuggle up to him for cuddle time on a day off, you just wanna stay there forever bc his scent envelops you like a blanket on freezing winter nights <3

~ overall very comforting and warm, just like Gepard himself!! (cries in human heater vibes)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

jing yuan

~ musk + cinnamon + a little bit of spice, and def uses cologne.

~ actually wants to smell nice and puts in the effort!! changes his sheets, washes his clothes, showers every day (but washes his hair every 3 days or so bc haircare)

~ speaking of haircare, this man's big on it. most of his haircare products smell like the aforementioned musk and cinnamon, but he uses this one cream that smells like cloves and you freakin adore it. sometimes you borrow it so that whenever you're going out and he's busy with his big boy general duties, it feels like he's with u <3

~ and ughhhh his bedroom smells like him so whenever you guys have le cuddle time you fall asleep almost immediately. ofc he eventually does too (bc he loves how u smell too pookie, don't tell him i said that though he would kill me aksjskd) and you're so warm and soft and how could he not fall asleep??

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

dan heng

~ very ocean-y (salty?), small hints of eucalyptus and cypress as well. when he uses cologne he uses very, very little, but he actually has 2 separate colognes, one for the ocean-y cypress, and the other for the eucalyptus

~ i feel like this is kinda a bold statement but he uses bath bombs. like he gets a bath bomb that smells like mint, gets in the bathtub w it, and glides his thumbs over its surface bc he likes the texture-

~ he might not be the cleanest man in the universe, but he sure does smell like it!! something about eucalyptus and cypress and mint and a hint of ocean breeze is chillingly refreshing and tbh you kinda dig it :D

~ mornings w dan heng. omfg they are ethereal bc he literally smells angelic??? like a gentle freshness yk and the pillows smell like him too so lazy mornings are def a thing that you guys love sharing <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

luocha

~ oooo he's kinda a wild card imo, but personally, i think that he smells like jasmine + honey (not just bc of his idle + technique!! pinky promise)

~ he lowkey smells a little like freshly-cut grass, very light n refreshing. however, jasmine takes center stage, and if you really bury your face in his long-ass hair, you can catch a whiff of chamomile :))

~ super big on herbal teas and honey as well - i hc that he brings a water bottle w him that's just green tea n honey so when you're close to his face (cuddling, hugging, etc) the honey adds this sweetness that blends super well w the aforementioned chamomile + jasmine <3

~ like jing yuan, super involved in haircare!! he does use less products, but you still freakin adore this chamomile shampoo that he uses. avid believer in aromatherapy, prob uses essential oils (not for curing cancer ofc)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

welt

~ coffee and amberwood!! both are deep and rich scents and he probably uses cologne in very small amounts aksjdks

~ coffee addict and the scent faintly lingers, so the amberwood is really more prominent, but overall i promise he doesn't smell like dust or smth, he's not that old he takes good care of himself :))

~ burns incense in his room bc it helps him relax and concentrate on his drawings, so he does have a little resin smell to him, but you don't mind bc it's actually quite comforting. he once almost caused a fire bc he dropped a lit match onto the carpet but we don't talk about that-

~ loves to hug you so whenever he does, you always feel so cozy and loved and aaaaa ya'll are so cute i can't <3 and since he's pretty tall he sometimes rests his head on top of yours and hugs you from behind like that and you melt immediately bc it's like a blanket!! but smells super nice!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

[becca-e-barnes]

"Here comes trouble."

Getting back to the 'Shit He Said' series because I've been missing it and you've said some truly wonderful shit recently.

This one is pure fantasy. I'm fully just indulging myself and I'm okay with that. I've thought about this way too much.

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Semi-public, vaginal fingering, dom Bucky, sub reader, power imbalance, degradation, choking, penetration, creampie, this is bound to be so unhygienic irl but I can enjoy the thought leave me alone 😩

Summary: You manage to find some time for a quickie with the CEO

For some extra vibes: “Out Of My Mind” by The Killers

Minors, do not interact

Heat meets you the second the door opens but you only feel the true intensity of it when you’ve stepped inside and closed the door behind you.

Everything is hot.  Stiflingly, oppressively hot.  Even the glass panel of the door is warm under your touch.  Between the humidity and the ambient lighting, your eyes struggle to focus.  Taking a seat inside seems like a good idea.  Sit down before you fall down.  

It’s impossible to get a deep, satisfying breath.  The air feels so heavy, water droplets forming on your bare skin, clinging to your eyelashes and dripping from the ceiling onto your hair.  As the seconds pass, you feel your body begin to adjust.  Your breathing starts to regulate, albeit faster than usual.  You succumb to the weight in the air, taking a seat on the wet bench to the left of the door.  You close your eyes for a few moments in an attempt to shield them from the heat, breathing in the fresh scent of eucalyptus essential oil.

“Here comes trouble.”  Fuck.  You hoped this might happen but you hadn’t fully let yourself believe it was actually a possibility.  Your eyelids flutter open again, looking in the direction of the voice but you don’t need to see the silhouette of the person sitting at the back of the room to know who had spoken.

“Hello, you.”  He speaks again, low and soft and this time you’re more focused on ensuring you’re alone.  A quick scan of the room and it’s empty, save the two of you.

“I didn’t think you’d be down here!”  You feign innocence.  It’s a lie.  You knew he would.

He’s always been wonderfully talented at seeing right through you.

“I mentioned earlier that I might go try out the steam room.”  He’s right; he did.  These work trips get awfully long sometimes and it’s hard to keep your head in it without giving yourself a break.  In fact, you’re surprised more of your colleagues aren’t down here taking some time to themselves.

“Might.  I had no way of knowing you actually would.”  You’re not wrong.  Nor is he.  It’s an elaborate dance around the fact that you’re both now exactly where you want to be.

God, he’s gorgeous.  His usually soft, fluffy hair has drooped under the weight of the steam, curling a little.  Droplets of water roll slowly down his bare chest, meeting at the waistband of his swimwear but the condensation gathering on his body makes his skin look slick and kissable.  Your thoughts wander, daydreaming about how you’d love nothing more than to trail your tongue down his chest in the wake of those droplets until you’re able to sink to your knees in front of him and find a better use for your mouth.

“Stop thinking.  Get over here.”  He perhaps doesn’t mean to sound as sharp as he does but with time being of the essence, he’s not wrong to be demanding.  Anyone could walk in any time now so you might as well use the time you have wisely.

You’re so eager it’s difficult to slow yourself down.  Within seconds, you’ve moved to the bench at the back, beside Bucky and his lips are on yours before you even realise it.  They’re soft and plump, his mouth tasting faintly of the coffee you saw him drinking earlier. His tongue rolls gently against your own and you feel yourself moan against his lips more than you hear it.

Your heart is speeding up, thumping in your chest and with your elevated body temperature, it feels like it’s pounding against your ribs.

Once you start touching him, it’s impossible to stop.  His chest is wet against yours, your bodies pressed together and your hands wandering with an urgency that would have you thinking you’ve never touched him before.  You’re desperate and the humidity does nothing to help you both think coherently.  You aren’t thinking about what might happen if someone walks in.  You aren’t thinking about the fact that if they did, they’d catch you and the CEO all over each other.  You certainly aren’t thinking of any of the consequences that would follow.

“Fuck, you’re desperate.”  He rumbles out a low groan against your lips, his fingers pulling the bottoms of your bikini to one side to let his fingertips graze your soft folds.  You’re soaking wet but it’s very distinctly nothing to do with the fact you’re currently in a steam room.  The slickness of your arousal is unmistakable, not to mention the all too evident desperation in the way you roll your hips into his touch, silently begging for more. “You could take me right now.”  His fingers tease your entrance, testing the resistance from your body and it’s delightful to feel him slipping into you so smoothly.

“You’re filthy, you know that?  Getting fucked in a steam room knowing anyone could walk in and see you.  Anyone could see what a slut you are for me.”  His ‘for me’ hits you hard because this is only for him.  You wouldn’t do this with anyone else.  You wouldn’t ask anyone else to do the depraved things you ask him to do.  All of the darkest, filthiest thoughts you have are about the man who’s now got you seated in his lap, your back to his chest with your swimwear tugged to the side so he can tease your cunt with his throbbing length, rather than his fingers.

“Beg me for it.”  Confidence drips from his tone and he’s got every right to be this confident.  You’ve never wanted sex as often as you have since you met him.  Your sex drive goes through the roof when he’s around, a testament to how comfortable and confident he makes you feel.  He makes you feel desired and God, you want to be desired.

The head of his dick strokes the softest part of your body, teasing from your entrance to your clit and back again.  You have no doubt he’s smearing his precum over your cunt, claiming you.  The thought alone makes your walls flutter.

“Please fuck me.  Hurry up, Bucky, please.”  You sound pathetic and it only makes you wetter.  Only he gets you like this.  There’s not a hope in hell you’d beg anyone else for anything at all.  Anything you need, you can do for yourself.  Except this.  He’s let you feel safe and able to live out your wildest fantasies and that’s not something you’d experience with just anyone.

You feel him hum, kissing your shoulders, lowering you down onto his tip and stopping after the head has just slipped inside you.

The first glide into your body always leaves you breathless but this isn’t it.  He isn’t fully inside you yet and he’s stopped already.  “Just the tip, sweetheart.  That’s all you’re getting.  Unless you act like the little slut I know you want to be.”  He kisses down your neck, as far down your spine as the angle allows him to reach before licking back up and the shiver it sends through your body feels like a cold electric current.

“You’re delicious.  Go on, be a good whore for me.  Take what you need.”  You don’t need to be told twice, lowering yourself to take the rest of his length.  He glides into you beautifully, sliding into the wet, inviting heat between your legs.

“Oh God, that’s it.  Stupid girl.  Acting like you’re just a hole for me to fuck.  Maybe you are?”  He knows that will get to you.  You’re more than that.

Your head shakes, your hips rolling mindlessly, your body enjoying his presence inside you of it’s own accord.  “I- I’m not just a hole.”  You argue, trying to stifle your own moan at the feeling of him rubbing against the soft little sweet spot inside you.

“You’re not.  I know you’re not.  But for now, sweetheart, that’s all I want you to be.  You’re just a pretty little hole and I’m going to make you cum like it’s all you’re good for.”  You didn’t expect the punch to your chest that his kindness delivers but it’s appreciated all the same.

His hand cradles your throat, applying just a nice amount of pleasure.  The humidity was already dizzying but Bucky’s grip on your neck adds another dimension.

“God, the way you gripped me when I put my hand on your neck.  Pretty little pussy just doesn’t want me to pull out.”  He’s rutting into you, groaning against your shoulder but he still can’t drown out the obscene sounds of wet skin on wet skin.

“Feels perfect.”  You feel your eyes rolling back in your head, barely able to string more words together than that.  

“No sweetheart, you feel perfect.  Fuckin’ made for me.  Pretty little stupid fuck toy.”  His free hand squeezes and massages your breasts in turn, giving each of them the attention they deserve while he fucks himself into you.  “You’re dripping.  Fuck, you were made for this.”

You grip the wrist of the hand that’s massaging your breasts, trailing it down your body to settle between your legs.  “Can’t even tell me what you want, can you?  Can’t manage the words anymore.  Did my cock make you that stupid already?”

You nod and it only makes him chuckle, rubbing your clit almost entirely out of sympathy.  

Deep breaths don’t help.  The steam feels like it’s catching in the back of your throat with every breath but it only heightens the pleasure.

“I want you to cum.  Now.  I want to fuck you full while your cunt is trying to milk every drop from me.  You got that?”  

“Faster.”  You plead, right on the edge of slipping into an unbearably intense orgasm.  Bucky obliges, rubbing your clit faster, tightening his grip on your neck just a little and it sends you spiralling, your walls clamping around him so tight, it coaxes him to spill his release into your body.

You hardly notice his climax until the crest of your own subsides.  “Such a perfect cunt.  Fuck, I can’t stop.”  His forehead rests on your damp shoulder, panting and groaning as he fills your body with ropes of cum.  It’s messy and rushed but it’s an overwhelming ecstasy and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

When he’s entirely spent, he lets his hand fall from your throat but that does nothing to help you take a deep breath.  Water drips rhythmically from the ceiling onto the bench beside you both while your bodies separate and you allow yourselves a few seconds to enjoy being together.

[360iris]

For me, the vibe drastically shifts when I think of the moon knight system individually—

Like there’s Steven, who’s very sweet and accommodating. He’s easy going but just the right amount of snarky that never fails to make you snort with laughter.

He’s the kind of person I’d want to go to Starbucks with and order a large refresher only to walk around Target for a good two hours like it’s the mall or a farmer’s market.

Steven is Tuesday nights spent sprawled out on a modest sized couch, the two of you wrapped under a large blanket and trying to be respectful of each other’s space as you’re both self conscious of how much space you’re taking up.

But eventually, your calves are touching and ankles are interlocked as you’re leaning over him to get something off the end table.

It’s him standing at the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth and intently listening as you rambunctiously complain about obnoxious coworkers and customers over the noise of the shower running, shampoo being massaged into your scalp and rinsed from your hair.

He’s the partner you spent your adolescence daydreaming about.

And then there’s reserved, calculated and partially measured Marc. He’s quiet in an attentive sort of way, the type of big, semi-permanently grumpy guy who’ll take mental notes of literally everything that has to concern with you.

For example, he’ll pinpoint the exact pieces in your wardrobe you’re more inclined to pull out and wear before anything else in your closet— and he’ll always be sure to have washed, folded and returned them to their drawers so that they’re ready for you to pull on again at the end of the day.

It’s the kind of act of service that’s so subtle, you don’t realize he’s been doing it for months.

This man will fully memorize your go-to restaurant orders and act like it’s simply a coincidence when the waiter arrives and he’s just finished flawlessly reciting what you want, for you.

He knows what things you tend to somehow always forget to pack in your purse for work and will neatly line them up on the kitchen bar so that you couldn’t possibly miss them (you still forget to take them though… and after a while, he just starts packing your work bag for you. It doesn’t take long and he finds it’s nice that it gives him something to do.)

Marc is Sunday mornings spent baking cupcakes, lining the counters with different flavored box mixes, eggs and large ceramic bowls. Splashes of vanilla extract, tins smeared with butter and coated in flour for easy removal. The smell of sweet chocolate icing filling the air.

The two of you taking turns alternating from dish duty to prep. Pressing indulgent kisses in between his shoulder blades as he whisks eggs into oil and water like the yellowy yolks owe him money.

The way you serenely clean up behind him— a little spilt cake mix here, or broken eggshells there— doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated. The small gestures really go miles for him.

Marc wordlessly gives out tender pecks, against your temple or at the nape of your neck just because. He’s comfortable silences and fingers warmly intertwined.

He’s the man you find yourself stealing glances at when you think he’s not looking, wondering how you got so lucky.

And last, but never least, there’s Jake who’s hardy, spartan and disciplined. A true product of his environment and circumstances. Someone who learned from their oppressors and surpassed them in their capacity for brutality. The thing about Jake however, is that he has a great proclivity for gentleness as well.

Jake is Wednesday nights, the two of you undressing layer by layer, garments piling into a neat stack to later be placed into the laundry hamper. Jake resting his chin over your right shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middle as you fold your pants and his shirt.

He’s knelt alongside the white garden tub, his hand under the running water from the facet, adjusting the temperature as needed. Eucalyptus scented suds and bubbles fill the space around you as your back rests against his chest.

With his hands brought around your front, he peels one of the set of three clementines you’d brought from the kitchen. Hand feeding you segmented pieces to be lazily gnawed at, soft sloshes and splashes sounding at your feet as you wiggle your toes in the comfortable silence. The two of you exchanging hushed mumbles.

He’s cold nights with chill air slashing your cheeks, a steady chocolate stare he fixes you with as you shuffle in place in front of him. His neck craning as he leans forward, a gloved hand encasing your hands clasped at your mouth and moving them aside— his lips pressing against yours wordlessly.

He’s the protector you only ever heard about in passing stories.

[starsval]

6 favours with James Potter

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: James enters your life by asking you weird favours.

Word count: 2,1k

Warnings: kissing, mentions of punching and broken noses, anxiety attacks, crying.

A/N: based on Do Me a Favour by Arctic Monkeys, even though these aren't the vibes of the song.

Pd: I had to make that Taylor reference, I couldn't help it.

Favour 1

"And do me a favor and break my nose" That's one of the first things James said to you while showing interest. You have talked a few times in class, but not enough for him to ask you that. 

"What?" You ask him, unbothered, sitting under a tree, facing the lake. 

"The other day at the party, you broke his nose"

Oh, yes, you did. Some guy in one of your friend's classes was bothering her a lot, and he'd been doing it for a while. So you took advantage of the situation, and punched him, just to blame it on the alcohol after. 

After that beautiful flashback, you look back at your homework. 

"I don't know what you're talking about" You tell him. 

"Punch me so I can get over you" He suddenly says. 

"Over me? What-" You are even more confused with this than with your homework. 

"I can't stop thinking about you since I saw you at the party, and it's not like we're strangers, so just do it" 

"James- I'm not gonna punch you" You start to pack your things as you see your friend walking to you. "I have to go, bye" Then you start to walk away, but not enough to not hear him shout:

"You know my name!"

You look back at him for a moment, doubting that this is all a prank.

“What was that?” Your friend asks you as you start to walk to the castle.

“It doesn’t matter” You sigh. 

Favour 2

This time you were in divination class, waiting for your friend to sit next to you.

"Lately I've been feeling like" You start talking as soon as someone sits next to you, thinking it's your friend. But as you look up you see James. 

"What? Where's-" He cuts you off by pointing at your friend, who's now sitting next to Sirius, clearly flirting. 

"Do me a favor and tell me to go away" He finally says. 

"What?" You ask, focused on your homework again. 

"Yes, I was thinking, and I'm not sure that I would lose my feelings for you if you punched me” He smiles, like he’s imagining it. “Because, well, you get it. So this is the safest way”

"I don't-" You get interrupted again, this time by the teacher, who just approached you two.. 

"James, could you tell us what you see in the crystal ball?" He focuses for a moment, like he's really trying to see something. 

"I see me in a really happy relationship with Y/n" He whispers the last part, so only the teacher could hear it. 

"You know what? I know I sensed something between you two" She mutters before walking away, to bother another pair of students. James immediately looks at you with a big smile, to which you roll your eyes, but smile anyway. 

"It's in the stars" He points to the ceiling "We're going to be together" 

"Sure" You are still looking at your homework, but you can see how he smiles even more. 

"How have you been feeling lately?" 

"What?"

"You were going to say that to your friend"

"Didn't you want me to tell you to go away"

"Yes but you didn't, so I'm assuming I have possibilities. So, I want to get to know you"

You sigh, knowing that you can't escape from him, so you just tell him about your favorite food, song, color, flavor and season. You learn that he loves red, eucalyptus and spring, because it's better to play quidditch. 

Before you can answer another of his weird questions, it's time to go to your next class, without him. So you pack your things and get up. You walk away after saying.

"I never said you didn't have possibilities"

Since then James started walking you to class, and you even went to see him practice once. Only to deny it after. But you've been talking to him more and more.

Favour 3

It was all too much, the tests, your family, your friend who you doubted was your friend anymore. It was all too much, all bottled up, until you get a letter from your family. Asking of course about your grades, not about you, or your life, about your grades, no before talking about their lives. 

So you walk out the Great Hall, before everyone sees you cry. You don't even bother in telling your friend, she was too focused on some boy to notice you practically running out the room. 

As soon as you're in the hallway, you feel the tears running down your face, while you walk to some random balcony, to get some air. 

"What happened?" You hear James ask. He noticed you as soon as you got up the chair, and he noticed something was wrong. 

"Nothing" You answer, even though tears keep falling from your eyes. Then he sits next to you, contemplating the quidditch pitch in front of you. 

"It was your friend, wasn't it? You guys are almost all the time together" 

"No, I'm fine" No, you weren't. 

"You know it's okay to cry, right? And to tell people if they're bothering you"

This time you're the one who asks the favor. 

"James, do me a favor and stop asking questions" You tell him, finally drying your face with your hands. 

"Oh, okay" He tries to get up, but you stop him, by holding his hand. 

"You can stay, just, talk about something else"

And he does, you stay there talking about the next prank he's doing, still holding his hand. 

Favour 4

Breathe

You repeat yourself as you walk around an abandoned classroom. You were having an anxiety attack in the middle of the class, and you didn't want anyone to see you right now. So you just asked to go to the bathroom and here you were. Getting dizzy from walking around a table.

You keep trying to dry your face, even though tears keep coming out your eyes, when someone knocks on the door. 

"Are you okay?" It's James, he's on the other side of the door, worrying about you. 

"Yes" You tell him after getting close to it, so he could hear you. 

"Do me a favor, and ask if you need some help" He says. 

"I don't need help, I just need five minutes" You talk, still reminding yourself to breathe. 

"Can I be with you during those five minutes?" You think about it, and when he's about to leave, you open the door with your wand, sitting on a table, looking at the window. 

"Yes" You quietly say, drying your face as he sits next to you. 

“I’ve seen the way she acts” He talks after a while, when you already stopped crying “Your friend, I mean. And I know I don’t have anything to do with your friendships, but as your future boyfriend, I can tell you that you deserve better” You look at him.

“My future boyfriend?” You smile, and look back at the window. “And I know, but she’s my only friend, she was the only stability I had in my life” You sigh “But not anymore I guess”

“I’ll help you make new friends, I think you would really like Remus” Then he thinks about it “Maybe not him, let's start with Sirius”

You raise an eyebrow at him “Why?” 

“No reason”

“Are you afraid I might like Remus more than I like you?"

“What? No, it’s not that, how could you not like me? Have you seen me?-” Then he realizes what you said “You like me?” He smiles. But before you can answer, the bell rings, informing you that the class is over, therefore, lunch just started.

“Bye” You walk to the door, not looking back to an amazed James, who looks at you until the door closes.

Favour 5

“She likes me! She told me she likes me!” James was telling his friends when he saw you walking in the Great Hall and sitting alone. He was going to sit next to you but he saw your friend walking towards you.

He couldn’t hear what you guys were talking about, but he saw you being confident and your friend frowning, so he assumed you followed his advice. After a meal where James was only focused on you and fully ignoring his friends, he could finally walk to you as you reached the door.

“You like me” He says as he follows you to the garden, it was Saturday so you were going to do homework under the usual tree.

“Hi to you too” You answer, sitting and taking the things out of your backpack.

“Hi, you like me, right?” This time you ignore him, knowing that he wouldn’t shut up about that if you said anything wrong. “Okay, so I can’t ask that…” He thinks out loud. “Are you going to go to the Gryffindor party tonight?” He asks, smiling 

“I don’t think so” You answer, focused on your homework.

“What? Why not?” He frowns.

“If you want me to go, then ask me” You look up at him, causing him to smile.

“Will you go to the Gryffindor party tonight with me?”

“Yes” You focus again on the homework on your lap, and then you notice that he’s too quiet, so you look at him, just to see him smile like he just won a contest. “What?”

“I like you, and I know that you like me, because you said it, and because, who wouldn’t like me? Have you seen me? Everything is just so perfect…” Then he lays down next to you, watching the tree leafs move.

“Do me a favor, and stop flattering yourself” You tell him, avoiding his gaze when he looks up so he doesn’t think that you were staring at him(you were).

“Then I’ll flatter you”

“I need to finish this”

“I’ll flatter you in my head” You roll your eyes and he smiles, looking at you, until he realizes something “You won’t break anyone's nose tonight will you?”

“Shut up” You tell him, smiling.

Favour 6

“I told you you’d have a good time” James asks as he follows through the hall.

“You didn’t tell me that, but I had a good time”

“You know what wasn’t good? That I got in detention and couldn’t talk to you in a week”

“You talked to me through letters” You tell him, sitting in a random window, waiting for him to sit in front of you.

“You know what they say, the best way to get to someone’s heart is by letters”

“No one has ever said that” You tell him, smiling.

“I do” You roll your eyes, looking through the window. “Can I ask you one last favour?” That makes you look back at him.

“Sure”

“Do me a favour and be my girlfriend” He smiles, pretty confident in himself.

“Okay” You smile too, getting closer to him. “Then do me a favour and kiss me”

And he does, he kisses you until you can’t breathe, until all you feel are his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. He kisses you until you forget everything, until all you can wish is to stay here forever. He kisses you like he’s been waiting all his life for this moment, like his lips can’t stop, and you don’t want them to. You put your hands in his neck as he moves you closer to him, so you have no choice but to stay here and kiss him even more. 

He kisses you until you both hear someone clearing their throat.

You both look back at that person, hardly breathing, and you see Remus looking back at you.

“Hi Rem, this is my girlfriend” He smiles and looks back at you “I think it’s already safe for you to met him”

ᰔᩚෆ❧ღდლ❦ও❥ଓ

“You said no more favours!” You tell James.

“I know, but that would make me the happiest person alive”

“I thought that being my boyfriend made you the happiest person alive” You raise an eyebrow at him, who smiles at you.

“And it does! But I’d really love that”

“James, I’m not gonna punch Snape just because he looked at me”

“He was mean to you!”

“He didn't’ even talk!"

“But you could see him thinking mean things” You look at him, genuinely concerned, and sigh, laying in your bed.

“Let’s just sleep” You open your arms so he could cuddle you, and he does, smiling all the time.

“We’ll continue talking tomorrow?”

“James…”

“Okay, and you actually make me the happiest person alive” You smile, hugging him tightly.

[virescent-v]

I’ve always wanted to see a fic surrounding this: the aftermath of Emily’s rescue from Mr Scratch. Maybe a fluffy bath moment at home or sweet smut vibes?

Aftermath

A/N: Bestie! I loved this idea. Tbh, I had to watch that ep first because I had no idea who Mr Scratch was. I'm only on s5 of my watch through hahaha. But I watched it, and wrote this! I hope it does it some justice. I think this is really my first take at a hurt/comfort fic.

Word Count: 1.6k (I broke my less than 1k word challenge, oops) Warnings: honeslty, not too much. There is some slight smut tho.

You were told to wait at home. But the wait was excruciating. 

You hadn’t gotten many details from Penelope other than Emily had been kidnapped, drugged, and had gotten rescued. She was otherwise unharmed. You only knew that she was chasing a high profile psychopath; someone that had even Hotchner running into WITSEC. 

So, you were waiting. Impatiently. For your girlfriend to come home. So you could check her over yourself, especially since you knew she wasn’t going to be responsible and go to the hospital. 

You were broken out of your inner anxious ramblings by Emily stumbling through the front door, all but dropping her bags at her feet and practically running right to you. 

“Em,” you whispered, gathering her in your arms. You could feel her slightly shaking, the adrenaline of everything finally crashing on her. “You’re home, baby, and safe. You’re safe now,” you said, continuing to whisper sweet words to her, rubbing your hands on her back, helping to wear off some of the epinephrine coursing through her. 

You tried to pull away, so you could look at her, really look at her, but her arms shot out and grabbed you around your waist, pulling you even closer to her. Like she was trying to burrow into you. 

“Not yet,” she whispered, her nose dragging up the side of your neck, breathing in your perfume. 

“Okay, okay.” 

It takes a couple of minutes; you can feel Emily mouthing something against your skin, as if she’s trying to ground herself, reminding herself that she’s not with him anymore. Eventually, though, she loosens her grip on you, allowing you to look at her face for the first real time since she got home. 

When your eyes connect, you can see the tears shining in hers. You can feel the weight of her stare, silently communicating between the two of you. 

I almost died. 

But you didn’t, love. You’re home. 

You trail your hand up her arm, across her shoulder, and over her heart. 

You’re alive. You’re safe. 

As you tap your pointer finger on her chest in time with her heartbeat, she takes a shuddering breath, a few tears finally making their way down her cheek. She blinks a few times, not trying to hide the emotion escaping her, before taking a deep breath that seems to use all of her remaining energy. 

“Can- can we take a bath?” She asks, timidly. As if you would ever deny her anything. 

You don’t say anything. You just grasp her hand in yours and lead her to your bathroom. You sit her on the toilet, tucking some of her stray hair behind her ears. You reach over to your oversized tub, turning the water to just on the side of scalding. The temperature Emily prefers. 

As the tub fills, you watch Emily, rubbing your hands on her knees. She’s still occasionally shaking, but not as badly as when she came in. Her gaze isn’t focused on anything, worrying you that she might start receding back to memories from earlier. You know she’ll be hit with nightmares later, something you’ve dealt with before and know how to handle. You just want to prevent that for right now. 

Once the tub is full, you add some bath water oils, a eucalyptus smell. You’ve found that it’s better for keeping Emily calm over lavender or vanilla smells. 

You start to strip, placing your clothes in the hamper. Emily still isn’t focusing on anything, her eyes settled on her hands on her lap. She isn’t even registering that the bath is ready, so you approach her quietly. 

“Em, baby, the bath is ready. You need to get undressed.” 

Her eyes tracked up your body, but there wasn’t her normal heat in her gaze. Only as if she was making sure that it was really you. 

When your eyes connected, you had to stop yourself from gasping. Her eyes were turning red from trying not to cry, almost overflowing with unshed tears. 

You crouched down in front of her, your nude form not even a worry. You rubbed your thumbs across her cheeks, trying to get her to release her emotions. You’d take them from her if you could. 

Emily feels your thumbs rubbing back and forth, letting your love for her ground her to this moment. Eventually, she closes her eyes tight, all of the tears breaking free, and she starts to sob. She collapses into you, burrowing into your neck again. This time, you can hear her mumbling, wheels up, I’m home, wheels up, I’m home over and over again. A mantra. 

You give her a few minutes, letting her get out most of the current wave of emotion. You know it’ll hit her again later, likely many times, and you know you’ll take them all in stride. Anything for her. 

Another deep breath, another slow release from you. You reach over and grab some toilet paper, wiping at her teary, snotty face. You can tell she almost cracks a smile at the noise her nose makes when she blows it into the tissue; she’s slowly coming back to herself. 

After you toss the tissue in the trash, you grab the hem of her shirt. Tugging on it, Emily raises her arms, allowing you to undress her. There’s no sexual charge to your movements; this is purely emotional, intimate connection between you and your girl. 

You get in the tub first, spreading your legs so Emily can settle between them. Usually, she’s behind you, always pampering you. It’s only on rare occasions do you get to be the one caring for her, so you take pride in your movements, your ability to calm her when she most needs it. 

As she settles in front of you, you feel the last of her energy leave her. The hot water around you soothing sore muscles, easing her overworked nervous system. Her heart rate starts to slow, her breaths becoming deeper, slower, longer. 

While you know that her body is physically relaxing, you know that her mind is not. 

You never get the details of the case. She never wants to burden you with the gruesomeness of her job, doesn’t want you to worry more than you already do. Emily’s a profiler, can read anyone in the room and pinpoint their motives. But you’ve become an expert in Emily. 

You help her through the aftermath as best as you can, providing her with the space to unwind in whatever what she deems necessary - or whatever way her body deems necessary. Sometimes it’s a hot bath and a good meal, sometimes it’s body-wracking sobs on the couch, and sometimes it’s taking her to the local gym to spar with someone and let her anger out. 

You see sides of your girlfriend that you know no one else has or ever will. She’s a strong, independent person with walls taller than Everest. Somehow, you’ve managed to climb them, repel down them, and settle in. Emily let you settle in, let you unwind the barb wire around her heart. You’d protect it with your life. 

You start rubbing a soft cloth with your body wash across Emily’s body; she’s always taken comfort in your smell after a bad case. You make sure to go slow, not knowing what happened to her, not wanting to trigger anything unknowingly. 

As you reach her bent knees, you feel her flinch a little. You stop immediately, trying to check in with her again. She’s mouthing the same mantra: Wheels up, I’m home, wheels up…

“Em? Do your legs hurt?” 

A slight shake of her head. No pain, which likely means it’s something mentally. 

You continue slowly, letting her feel the cloth on her legs. “Open your eyes, Em. Your legs are okay.” 

You watch the side of her face, watch as her eyes blink open, watch as her eyes track your hands up and down her leg. 

Another deep, shuddering breath as you feel her relax back into you. She continues to watch your movements, her eyes growing more focused as they move back up her torso. 

“I need,” a whisper, caught in the dryness of her throat; she clears it before trying again. “I need you to touch me.” 

You release the cloth, notice it float away to the end of the tub. Your hands wrap around her, settling lower on her belly, resting there. You watch the side of her face again. “You sure?” 

You would never take advantage of her, not while she’s vulnerable. You’ve had this conversation before, about how sometimes after certain cases she just needs to feel connected to you, feel intertwined with something that is real.  

She turns to look at you, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers a strong, steady, “love me,” against your lips.  

She trails her hand to yours, interlocks your fingers, before bringing both of them down to her core. Interconnected, simultaneously, you start rubbing slow, steady circles on her clit, working her up easily, lovingly. 

Each brush of your fingers against her has her twitching, rolling her hips into your hands. Her head thrown back against your shoulder, you can see her feeling you, feeling your love for her. The only thing on her mind now is her, you, and the way that you make her feel. Each stroke of your fingers is a promise, a vow to protect her, keep her safe, love her. It’s a love letter of all of the things you wish you could voice, of all of the ways you care for her. 

As she nears her peak, your lips find her ear as you whisper over and over I love you, you’re home, I love you… 

Her back arches against you, her hips pressing more fully into your hand. You help her ride through the waves, gathering her in your arms as she settles back down. Your lips brush light kisses around her temple and cheek as she catches her breath. 

“I love you,” she says. “I’m home.”

[emmylous-world]

TF141 and their wedding

AN: I was bored and don’t have a laptop so I’ll feed you guys this, what I think their weddings would be like, lemme know if I should do something else, like engagement rings and wedding bands, types of houses etc. enjoy heheh

TF141 x f!reader

TW: mentions of sex,

Ghost💀

He’s gonna be very generic, basic and plain. It would be in the fall, beginning of October. He’s not much of the designer so he’ll definitely let you do the picking and choosing, happy with whatever. But it’s gonna be on the ghost theme, everything black and red with roses and skull’s. it’s not gothic or grungey, just black, red and a little white in there. His suit is black with a red tie. It’s probably held on a field in the country in England, idk won’t go into detail. Would only focus on you the whole night, he touches you more and gives you more kisses then normal. Will not stop touching, always has a hand on you, I mean it’s his wedding day. But doesn’t talk much, just watches you. Got teary eyes at Prices speech. When his tired of everyone, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the cabin and consummate the wedding💀😏

Soap 🧼

Somewhat of Scottish wedding, definitely wears a kilt and the Mactavish brooch, thistle everywhere, the bouquet, cake, table decorations. It also be in august. Also I’m not sure if he would do a handfast first, but the wedding would definitely held in a castle in the highlands, and is sworn under God to be with you till the end of time. He cries when you walk down the aisle, can’t take his eyes off you, But after the wedding, the reception part, expect him to get pissed drunk. Plays some wedding games definitely, looses every time, cry’s at the speeches, every single one, he’s drunk so it’s a given. Eventually gets horny, takes you away to show you how much he really loves you😌

Gaz ☕️

Gaz would be basic like Ghost, it’s gonna be in the summer, in a tent. Pastel colours, and lots of eucalyptus. His suit would either be black or blue, I don’t know much about Gaz sorry, so I don’t know exactly what he would be like but would get drunk with soap and you, definitely would smoke a blunt later, get high and have the bestest sex ever. 😩🥵

Price🥃

This is literally based off of what I want for my wedding, bc I wanna marry this man’s and Ik it’s very much him, ferns and outdoorsy vibes, it’s when the daisy are in bloom (June, I think) or spring I can’t decide. It’s on he’s dad’s property, surrounded by forest. He’s an old man, so he’ll keep it traditional, your wedding band was his mother’s. his suit is a 3 piece navy blue tweed. Hands never leave you, and always looking at you with pure adoration also can’t stop kissing you. When the sunsets, he takes you to the horses on the property and y’all ride over to the hunting cabin in the woods, and he worships you all night. 🤭😏

[97-liners]

sugar and you, except with flowers and jihoon

cranky wedding planner woozi x florist reader

words: 2.1k

just a silly little thing i wrote this afternoon! spinoff of sugar and you (mingyu)

(May)

Jihoon is ill-tempered, foul-mouthed, and prickly. Whenever he’s distracted, lost somewhere in his thoughts, his face naturally settles into a scowl. His glowers could melt sand into glass. And so, it’s a measure of his competency, brutal efficiency, and eye for design, that he’s the most sought-after wedding planner in the city.

The first time Chan meets Jihoon, he’s nearly brought to tears. You’re in the back room, elbow deep in a sink full of camellia branches and pungent water, when you hear your teenaged part-timer calling for you in an anxious voice.

“Boss?”

You know he’s in trouble, because you’ve never heard Chan calling you ‘boss’ in the month that he’s worked here. “Coming,” you call out, drying your hands on the front of your apron. The camellias can wait. “What is it?”

You step out from behind the curtain separating the back room from the shop and come face to face with a very disgruntled looking Jihoon. Blinking at him, you slow to a stop, damp fingers still twisted in the fabric of your apron. “Jihoon? I thought you weren’t picking up your order until next Wednesday.”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Jihoon sighs. “The flowers for the venue can stay the same, but the bouquets need to be blue.”

You raise your eyebrow. “All of them?”

“And the boutonnieres too,” he says. “I know it’s short notice, I’m sorry,” he sighs, running his fingers through his already-tousled hair. He looks like he hasn’t slept in two days. 

“No, I can do it,” you smile at him. “I’ll come in this weekend to work on them. Chan,” you turn toward the boy, “can you go back and finish stripping the camellias?”

“O-oh, sure,” he responds, glancing briefly toward Jihoon before slinking past you and disappearing behind the curtain.

“Here, Jihoon,” you turn toward the wall of humming refrigerators along the back of the shop, “let’s see what we can do.”

Jihoon follows you, watching silently as you deftly pick out your selections. 

“What’s the vibe?” You pick out a small cluster of periwinkle-colored hydrangeas.

“Something with texture,” he responds. “Modern, not traditional, but not minimalist.”

“Some sage,” you pluck out the greenery and tuck it in with the quickly growing bundle in your arms. “These silver-dollar eucalyptus sprigs would be good too. As for the statement blooms, I’m thinking these delphiniums would do well. I have some dried blue thistles in the back as well. Some queen anne’s lace for extra texture. Um.” You look down at the mess of flowers and greenery in your hands. It’s a mess, completely unarranged, but you can already see the colors coming together.

Chewing on your lip, you shift some of the stems around, then you look up at Jihoon. “What do you think?”

Jihoon looks down at the flowers, then up at you. He might be looking at you more than the flowers, in fact. “I think,” he says, "you’re a genius.”

From behind a curtain of leaves and tightly-shut buds, you beam at him.

(Later, over steaming bowls of instant ramen and scattered thistle stems, Chan asks you how you know Jihoon.

It takes you longer than you’d like to answer that question, but you settle with what Jihoon would say if he was here: “we work together frequently.”)

.

.

.

(August)

By the time Jihoon comes around, iced coffees in tow, it’s pouring rain outside. The perfect Sunday morning of just a few hours ago is now gone, replaced with low-hanging gray clouds and relentless sheets of stinging rain. It’s so humid, the large glass walls of the greenhouse are covered in a dense layer of condensation.

You, too, are covered in a sheen of sweat as you twist green florist’s wire around stems of sunflower and seeded eucalyptus into a wreath. 

“It’s terrible in here,” Jihoon groans as he takes his place on the stool next to you. “It feels like I’m inhaling water.”

Laughing, you glanced over at him. “Jihoon, it’s a greenhouse. What did you think it was gonna be like?” 

Jihoon ignores your question, instead choosing to ask a question of his own. “Aren’t you hot? Look, you’re sweating. Here.” He holds out an iced coffee at you.

You take the cup from his hand and relish the feeling of ice-cold condensation on your skin. “Thank you, Jihoon,” you tell him, watching as his ears instantly flush red, “you’re too nice to me.”

“I’m not,” he says automatically. “You work too hard.”

“Aren’t you being a bit of a hypocrite?”

“Yes,” he answers easily. “And here.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small earthenware vase with streaks of blue-green glaze. “Saw this at a gallery last night. It made me think of you, so I bought it for you.”

“Oh, Jihoon,” you smile fondly. He places the vase on your work table, and then he rotates it slightly so the most interesting glaze pattern is facing you. “I love it, Jihoon. Thank you for thinking of me.” In your little office in the shop, you have a bookshelf filled with trinkets and knick knacks. There’s a school art project that Chan had gifted to you, various books on horticulture and the Victorian language of flowers, dozens of your own notebooks detailing watering orders and deliveries and watering schedules and soil formulas, and a small smattering of little glass vases and earthenware pots that Jihoon has collected for you over the years. Every week, you dust them all and wipe them down with a damp cloth so that they shine in the afternoon sun.

(A week from today when Jihoon visits and drops by your office to pick up an invoice, he stops dead in his tracks when he spots the newest vase on your desk placed between your monitor and printer. It’s prime desk real estate, dedicated just to his vase and the small arrangement of wildflowers that you’ve placed in it.)

It’s the weekend, but Jihoon is restless and itching for some work to do, so you give him a plastic tub full of loose ribbon and twine and set him to the task of spooling and organizing everything. He puts his laptop on the work table, right between your side and his side, and the two of you watch anime quietly while working. At the end of the afternoon, you have a dozen bright sunflower wreaths, and he has a full rack of spooled ribbon. 

When he helps you put everything away, back in the fridges and cabinets where they all belong, he accidentally brushes against you. For a moment, you’re so close to Jihoon, you can smell the coffee on his breath, and you wonder would it would be like to kiss him.

.

.

.

(December)

“Sorry,” Jihoon says, looking genuinely apologetic under the rising and falling waves of light coming from the passing streetlights. He’s driving, and you’re pleasantly tipsy, leaning your head against the cold window and watching him.

“It’s okay, I’m not cold.” The heating is wonky in his car, and he’s bundled up in a big puffy coat with his pressed white cuffs peeking out from under his sleeves every time he moves his hands on the steering wheel. His suit jacket had been given up for you to put over your legs like a blanket, despite your protests that you would wrinkle it. It’s okay, Jihoon had shrugged, ears red, I gotta bring it to the dry cleaners anyway.

“Oh, good,” Jihoon says. He pauses and laughs. “That’s not what I was apologizing for, but I’m sorry about the heating too.”

You frown. “What are you sorry for?”

Jihoon shrugs, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything. It’s just the sound of the highway and the soft music from the radio that filters over the noise. Then, Jihoon tells you, “sorry for dragging you to a wedding and making you sit in a corner all night.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, and then you laugh. “Jihoon, you didn’t drag me to a wedding. You invited me to be your plus one, and I accepted. And you didn’t make me sit in a corner all night, we sat at a table and spent all night talking and eating.” Feeling very sleepy and warm, you grin dopily at him.  “And, for the record, I had a lot of fun.”

Jihoon doesn’t respond again for a few seconds, and you almost doze off before he speaks again. “Thanks. I, um, also had a lot of fun.”

“Thanks, Jihoon-ah,” you mumble. “Wake me up when we get to my place, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Sweet dreams.” 

(Later on, when he parks and stops the engine, he waits for a while first. You’re already awake, of course— you had woken when he turned off the highway and onto the quieter streets of your neighborhood— but you sit with your head leaned against the window and eyes closed, breathing quiet and even, and you let him have this moment. Here, in his parked car, where it’s dark and quiet, you let him watch you and chew on the inside of his cheek, hand balled up in a fist in his lap, clenching and unclenching as he struggles over whatever internal turmoil he’s working through. 

You decide to save him from his struggle and shift slightly, putting on a show of blinking awake, all dazed and bleary. 

“Cute,” Jihoon mumbles quietly.

You look up at him, wincing at your sore neck. “Huh?”

His eyes widen. You have an inkling that he didn’t mean for you to actually hear that, but he just flushes and pulls his lips into a thin line. “Did you have a nice nap?”

You smile at him and nod. “Thanks for driving, Jihoon. And thanks for inviting me to come with you.”

Jihoon nods, cheeks pink, and accepts his crumpled jacket when you hand it back to him. “Um,” he starts, looking at your right ear, “I had a really good time. With you.”

“Me too,” you grin, leaning forward. He leans back for a moment, and then he seems to recollect himself and he straightens his spine again so that the two of you are just inches apart. 

“And, I think it would be nice if we could do this again,” he finishes his statement. 

He’s so cute and flustered, you can’t help but to tease him a little. “What, go to other weddings? As guests? Just how packed is your social calendar?”

“I mean, not weddings, necessarily,” he rushes to clarify, “but, like, other things. The two of us.”

Your heart feels so full, you’re afraid it’ll bubble over. Jihoon reminds you of the gardenia plant you keep in your kitchen. You had rescued it from a hardware store, purchased at a discount when it was sickly and yellow, and you spent months and months caring for it– running a humidifier next to it, timing the amount of sun it was getting and supplementing with grow lights, testing the moisture of the soil every week, and after half a year, your little gardenia shrub produced just one large, beautiful, white blossom. Gardenias are sensitive– they like sun, but only a little bit; they like humidity, but water on the leaves will cause spots; and they won’t tolerate being moved around. You had originally planned on moving the gardenia to the shop eventually, but you ended up keeping it for yourself, this fragile little resident of your kitchen counter. 

You decide to take mercy on Jihoon. “I like you,” you smile, unable to suppress the fond way you melt at him. “We don’t have to go on dates if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I do want to go on dates! I just…” he huffs out a quick bark of laughter and pushes his hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly styled hairdo. “I like you too.”

“That’s perfect, then.” You lean forward, even closer. “Jihoon, can I kiss you?”

“I–I,” he stammers, flushing even harder, “yeah. Yeah.”)

.

.

.

(May, again)

“Hi, boss,” Chan pokes his head through the curtain separating the shop from the greenhouse. It’s his last summer before he goes off to college, so you’re having him train his younger brother before he leaves town. You’ll miss Chan, that’s for sure, but Geon is a sweet boy. “Your scary boyfriend is here again.”

You frown. “Don’t call him that.”

Chan shrugs. “I think Geon is gonna cry if you don’t come out.”

Shaking your head, you grin and take off your gardening gloves. The roses can wait. You have a grumpy boyfriend to take care of first. 

[magicxc]

Slow Motion

Pairings: Kofi Siriboe x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1785

Warnings: fluff, fingering

A/N: This was LONG overdue lol. I never expected to take so much time on these drabbles, but in the end I've come to love ALL pieces involved with this "series." It was nostalgic, fun, and most importantly SPICY 🥵 I thought something light to wrap it all up was much needed, so do enjoy Kofi in all his tenderness.

BBJ Masterlist

Deeply inhaling, a crooked smile dangles on the corner of my lips as the soft scent adds to the cozy atmosphere. There’s notes of lavender and frankincense that linger, almost lulling me to a peaceful sleep. The diffuser on the countertop spills Eucalyptus oil into the damp air, the harmony of aromas relaxingly pleasant.

Candles line the bathroom floor, all unscented, instead adding to the intimate vibes. The lights are dimmed, my only source of visibility is the flame of the fire flickering through the dark room, entranced as I watch them dance against the drywalls. 

The water is deliciously warm to the touch, almost too warm - it’s that scorching feeling that borders the line of pain, scared to submerge my body entirely as some parts are more sensitive than others. The longer I sit here, the more my body adjusts to the scoiling temperature and I slowly inch my way down until I'm chin deep into the bath. The epsom salt is crunchy against my legs, the textures oddly satisfying as I rub against them until they disintegrate.

Bubbles filled to the brim, they’ve become this fun distraction as opposed to the serene scene Kofi intended them to be. And while it is captivating, I find it a lot more entertaining. I’ve found myself blowing them, splashing them, and even molding them to my desire.

“Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?”

“This is relaxing,” I giggled.

Slipping in behind me, Kofi gently submerges himself into the bath, his added body heat making me even hotter; and I don't mean in temperature. Hands crawling to my shoulders, he begins to massage them, his fingers working out the stress from earlier today. Firmly caressing his digits into my shoulder blades, my groans hint at which spots need the most attention; growing louder every time he rubs the flesh just right.

“What's got my pretty girl so stressed out?”

“Baby, I swear I love my job and I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but sometimes it gets tiresome carrying the workload.”

“Do you think the workload is too heavy? That maybe you need a few days off?” he suggested.

“No it’s not that, ow-”

“Sorry, was that too much?”

“Mhmm”

As nimble as his fingers may be, Kofi for sure knows how to use them. They rub and dig and knead in the best ways, but sometimes his hold can carry a bit too much pressure. Intent on massaging out the knot, sometimes he doesn’t realise that his once firm touch can easily pass over to discomfort. Kissing along my temple, he promises to go softer, eagerly getting back to the topic at hand.

“So if it’s not your workload that's bothering you, it must be something else? It sounds more like you’re carrying the team.”

“I don’t mind stepping in when I need to.” 

“How do your shoulders feel beautiful? They’re sagging and the knot is gone.”

“Great,” I sigh. “I feel like I can bench press 70 pounds.”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “Lemme see how I can get that number to 80.”

Laughing, he stops massaging my shoulders to which I whine in protest. A kiss to my lips effectively stops me in my tracks, Kofi assuring me that my night is far from finished. Reaching over to the shelf beside us, I hadn’t realised how he stocked it in preparation. He has a little of everything, unsure of which direction this night will take us. There’s face masks, oils, wine bottles, a lighter, bath bombs, rosemary, and a few other things I don't get the chance to linger on. 

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” I breathed.

“Good, no questions moving forward please. I just need you to let go.”

Grabbing a cup from the shelf, he dips it below the water, filling it to the brim.

“What’s that for?”

“Didn’t I just say no questions?”

“But-”

“Aht”

“All I want -”

“Don’t even, now close your eyes.”

Emptying the cup over my head, I dramatically blow out the excess spittle of water, mostly because I didn’t expect it. And of course Kofi wouldn't explain things either, interrupting me every time I decided to inquire further. He repeats this two more times, until my hair and face are fully drenched. The water is a little hotter than room temperature now, so the sensitivity of my scalp welcomes the warm downpour.

His hands reach for the shampoo next to us and my mouth forms an “O” at where this is going, deciding to just sit back and let Kofi do his thing before my endless questions ruin what he’s attempting. Pouring the thick goop into his hands, he rubs them together before delving his fingers into my hair. 

My curls are easily tangled when wet, so I watch as he does the five finger method, carefully running his hand through each section of hair before scooping it all together. Once he successfully detangles my head, Kofi goes on to rub his fingers sturdily against my scalp, focusing more so on massaging it as opposed to washing my tresses.

“Mhmmmmyy goshhh, baby this feels AMAZING. I should let you help out on wash day more often.”

“So you can tire my hands out? I don’t think so,” he jokes. 

“We can split the chores, you wash and I style.”

“Let me marinate on that for a bit. What I really want to know is why you’ve been working yourself to the point of exhaustion?”

“Because unnmpph, right at the base please.”

“Down here?” he asks, working his thumbs toward the back of my head.

“Yes, thank you! And I guess it’s because I didn’t see how ragged I was running my body. One offer turns into an expectation and before I know it, I’ve effectively taken on the job description of at least three other people.”

“Mhmm,” he hums. “I love your willingness to help gorgeous, but to put it simply, those motherfuckers do not care. Takers never get tired of taking, but givers do get tired of giving. You’ll give the literal clothes off your back if you have to and trust me they’ll take it without question.”

A comfortable silence falls between us, one where I get a moment's clarity. A moment where the rose colored lens shift ever so slightly. When something becomes my passion I won’t hesitate to see it through, but what I haven’t seen is how quick people are to take advantage of that drive. I can love my job and still set boundaries, and it’s a shame it took me putting my body through so much to see that.

Thankfully Kofi is gentle with me. Kind enough to point out where I went wrong without ever making me feel bad for my actions; only encouraging me to learn from my mistakes from this point on. And if I can get this type of treatment every time I mess up, I may have to mess up more often.

Rinsing through my hair, he conditions it all the same, fingers actively kneading the tension away. Eyelids fluttering close, I embrace his gentle touch and allow my body to just be. To feel his hand against my skin and the warmth of the water. To smell the arrangement of scents that linger in the air. To listen to the flickering of the flames from the candles. To watch the bubbles bounce around the tub with each movement. I try my best to take it all in - relax my mind, still the whirlwind of thoughts, and allow myself to be present - the bullshit of the world forgotten. 

Before I know it Kofi rinses out my hair once more, the worries of this week sliding down my shoulders. Leaning into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat becomes my own personal ballad; interrupted by the rumbling of his chest as he asks how I’m feeling.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought babe and you’re right, those motherfuckers do not care.”

Agreeing, we talk a little about setting boundaries, but most importantly working my wage. Fingers delicately cradled against my cheeks, he presses his lips to mine, so soft I barely feel it. His minty breath fans against my face and I close my eyes while his forehead rests against mine, the two of us reveling in the ambiance of the night. 

“I see that you’re tired, but do you think you can do one more thing for me pretty?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Go ahead and spread your legs.”

Eyes shooting open, it’s the vulgarity of his words that throw me off. Kofi and I are no stranger to hot sex, but every time I hear how filthy he can get, it sends a wave of heat throughout my body.

“What all do you have planned tonight exactly?”

“I thought we agreed no questions. The only time I wanna see your mouth open again is when I'm putting my dick to the back of it. Now be real good for me and open up.”

The retort is on the literal tip of my tongue, just itching to jump over the edge, excited to see where another “mishap” can land me. But Kofi’s worked so hard to make this night special, so it’s only right that I see things through the way he intended. 

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers resting on my clit. “Stay just like this for me.”

Straight to the point Kofi starts to gently rub on the nub, my skin between his teeth adding to what already feels ethereal. His other hand reaches up to my breast, tweaking the nipples to attention; and my arms fly to the edge of the tub, needing to grab onto anything for stability. 

“Im just getting started,” he kissed. “I just need you to hold out for a little while longer, yeah?”

“Uhnnn ye- yeah.”

Hips bucking into his fingers, I throw my head onto Kofi’s shoulder to ride out the sensations, my breathing growing ragged as he cranes his head forward to slip my nipple into his mouth.  

“Not yet.”

“Babyyyyyyy, I can’t hold out for much longer.”

“You wont need to, I promise.”

Fingers swiftly rubbing over my clit, my hips continue snapping into his expert fingers, thighs shaking the water out the tub. His tongue swirls around my nipple, warm and electrifying. Hands gripping the tub, I beg Kofi to let me cum, relief washing over me as he finally does. 

“It’s true that takers never get tired of taking, and on some level I can relate, because I’m gonna take every last drop your body has to offer,” he promised. “So be extra good for me, and give me one more pretty.”

[yandere-writer-momo]

Baki Headcanons

This is just something to go along with the story I’m writing and what scents I associate the characters with. Also some of them just for the hell of it

Jack Hanma

He smells super woodsy. Like pine, cypress,and musk

Lumber jack vibes

Baki Hanma

He smells sweet. Like chocolate covered cherries, tonka bean, and vanilla

He smells playful and full of youth. Reminds me of a carnival

Kaoru Hanayama

He smells like tobacco, whiskey, and the smallest hint of roses

He smells strong with a gentle side to him

Kaioh Retsu

He smells like amber, green tea, and mint

Warm, spicy, but refreshing. Kind of reminds me of a mojito

Orochi Katsumi

He smells like oranges and clean linen

Warm and cozy. Like a warm hug. He has a super comforting and homey scent. Like fall

Katou Kiyosumi

He smells like cigarettes, leather, musk, and smoke. Also whatever liquor or beer he was drinking

Dirtbag vibes.

Shinogi Kureha

He smells eucalyptus, mint, and lavender

Reminds me of a spa. Super relaxing scent

Gaia

He smells like apple, black currant, and bergamot

Fresh and crisp with a hint of apple

Sikorsky

He smells like pepper, ylang ylang, jasmine, and vanilla

Masculine yet floral. Like a garden

Hector Doyle

He smells like blood, honey, and roses

Feminine and deadly

Shinogi Kosho

He smells like coffee, caramel, and nutmeg

Smells like something you’d want to put in your mouth

Jun Guevaru

He smells like white rum, coconut, musk, and hibiscus

His scent reminds me of a tropical vacation you never want to leave

[sourdough-seal]

dude honestly the Revenge started out as like a good vibes tech startup in some rich guy's garage. and then that guy fell in love with his business partner and then they broke up and kind of ruined it for everyone. and then the main guy left and then the business partner set the garage on fire. but then all the employees somehow reunited at this dope woman-owned corp with eucalyptus scented towels and unlimited broth.

and after everyone had like a day or two to process literally countless flavors of trauma they were like okay back to the garage!

and like. no offense to the Revengers but my ass is never leaving the Red Flag. you think i'm giving up job stability and a wellness package to go back to that clown fiesta? the garage is barely standing. the CEO isn't even rich anymore and he's in the middle of a brink-of-death reunion arc with his business partner. the healthcare cover is abysmal people are losing body parts at the rate of like one per day. no thank you i will stick with the comfy work uniforms and stable management

[mudandmire]

Free Day

Azris Week - Day Four: Free Day

~~~ Welcome to @azrisweek day four! Today's a free day so we are surfing off of 🌟vibes🌟. I l o v e d writing this, I had no idea where it was going to go I just knew the vibes I wanted throughout. I hope I managed to convey the feeling through it, though! Like, I dunno, it was just really fun to write about consumed-with-rage Azriel. As always, hope you enjoy!! :D ~~~

“His descent was like nightfall.” — Homer, The Iliad.

Descent

What’s left, after everything fades? Once, Azriel would have thought wisdom—perhaps even kindness if he learned it well enough.

Now, the truth stares at him; full and unblinking as the smudged halo of the setting sun that glares down at him in shame.

Wrath is all that remains.

The kind that hunts and cleaves and burns.

It drives him—drumming, drumming, drumming through his blood. Past the rhythmic chant of his lungs, the silent but narrowed frame of his mind that has all but erased every physical aspect that does not impair him—or his target.

Sweat beads along his hairline, the feathered strands of his raven hair sticking to his forehead. He can feel it sluice down the slopes of his face, unimpeded by a helmet. Drops whip off his cheeks, chased by the wind that lashes against him as he runs, sprints forward in a wild, endless chase for the one thing, the only thing, that might satiate his rage.

If blood will whet his appetite, let the cups run over with it.

Azriel has been hunting since the sun was just brushing the tips of the forest. The strong scent of eucalyptus and black gum heavy in the sticky air as he follows after the solider. Now, the sun is just cresting the hazy line of the horizon in the distance—it’s been hours, yet neither one tires or falters. Azriel can feel the sweat soaking through the cotton fabric of his wrapped clothes, making the leather plates of his armor stick to him that much more.

The soldier twists right, artfully dodging the branches of a gnarled shrub, his leap over a fallen log that of a gazelle. Grace follows in his footsteps, a loyal shadow that turns and bounces along with him. Azriel barrels through; hungry and hot, he barely registers the scrape of thorned branches against his biceps.

He hasn’t shown his face. At their first conflict, standing up to each other in the dust and dirt, watching it settle from it’s cloud onto the shiny, silver armor of his enemy, Azriel had been faced with the grated slats of a helmet. The voice that came from inside it was muddled and tinny—like it was coming from behind a wall.

Through the thick brush, the tall-stemmed, grey bark trees, Azriel finds that he won’t have much time—or breath—to be speaking anyway.

The soldier pivots again, the setting sun glinting off the shoulder pauldron—Azriel cuts his own track off to follow in each footstep. His chest heaves, every breath coming with effort now, but his pace does not falter, nor does his narrowed, bestial vision even when sweat slips down his brow and into his eye.

He’s getting close—can feel it in the tremor of the earth beneath his feet, the heavy pause in the thick summer air like it might hold it’s breath.

Azriel hunts; looking for an opening. The hound chasing the fox, the hawk and the sparrow, the trout and the minnow. Nature had ordained Azriel with the warm blood in his veins and the interminable, unflinching ability to pursue.

What a mistake it’s made.

Sure enough, Azriel’s prey makes a mistake. A hitch in the lungs, an unsteady landing, the slightest wobble of his leg and Azriel takes it and lunges.

The two bodies collide with a crack, bone bruising against bone. A muffled, startled shout rips from behind the helmet and Azriel snarls. They remain a collection of limbs and the armored press of their iron and silver. Weapons aren’t needed, not in this tussle in the dirt. Dust rising in great clouds, the red padded doublet the soldier wears tarnished and ripped where Azriel has struck and clawed with his hands.

He wants flesh under his fingers. To feel the delicacy of the stuttered, racing pulse under his palm and how it panics when he starts to squeeze.

The soldier fights back where he can; harried cries of distress rising from deep in his chest, his arms folded out in front of him to block Azriel’s incoming strike.

His squirming—a gnat in a web—knocks his helmet loose. Just enough so it slips up to his chin. The pale, freckled stretch of his neck bare to the wrathful, animalistic gaze of the male on top of him.

Azriel freezes with one hand fisted at the cuff of his chest plate, keeping him pinned to the earth, the other raised to strike. He hadn’t planned where, yet, he just needed to feel something crunch.

There’s a familiarity in the hollow place where the males collar bones meet—slick with sweat and heaving with the effort of his life giving breaths. Azriel traces it with his eyes, lips twisting into a frown from where he had bared them in a snarl.

The freckles—they catch his eye. It can’t be, he knows, keeping his hand pressed firmly to the soldiers chest, he tucks his other one under the lip of the helmet and tries not to hope.

He’s scrambling to collect the shreds of his rage, those delicate little pieces where if enough pressure is applied mold into the familiar, despised shape of his grief.

It can’t be. Hope is entirely foolish, so is fear. Yet he finds himself fluctuating through both as his heart pounds a different medley against his sternum.

It can’t be. It’s been a year.

Azriel’s hands begin to shake where he holds the helmet, features crumpled.

The shade of Eris’s eyes hasn’t changed. The ring around the pupil still that warm, amber glow of the embers of a fire.

The helmet drops, thuds dully against the ground and Azriel doesn’t care enough to look. Eris’s eyes may not have changed, but they look up at him now with a latent fear pressed deep into their depths. The kind only Azriel knew how to read once, and the sight of it nearly kills him if his shame and grief didn’t get to him first.

He falls back on his knees, entirely limp, watching Eris scramble away from him.

Azriel mouths his name. His tongue curling around the silent declaration fondly.

“Eris.” His voice breaks halfway through, hands fallen open on his thighs. “Eris.” He says again—a prayer, a plea, a repentance. Possibly he says it just to remember how it sounds after not hearing it for so long.

A thief in the night, his wrath steals away. After breaking him like an axe to a tree; over and over and over, it lays dormant and quiet, like it had never run rampant. A wild dog and it’s dear rabbit.

Eris doesn’t look at him, not at first. He sits with his legs drawn up and collects himself. Azriel marks the faint tremble in his hands, the wide, startled look in his eyes and in his head he takes his dagger to his lowest rib and cuts it out as sacrifice.

Maybe there is rage still left, but everything that had been aimed like a carefully primed cross bow bolt is now left to rot and fester in himself.

In front of him, Eris inhales shakily, and rubs out his palms on his knees. “How—” His eyes find Azriel’s, grimacing.

“How did you find me?” He asks.

Azriel has to shake his head because if he doesn’t he’ll sob. “I didn’t. Eris, I didn’t know it was you I just thought it was some spy or soldier or—someone.”

“I thought you hated me.” It would be a comfort, if Eris had say it with anything other than the blank, vacant look on his face.

Azriel chokes—grief or rage it’s all the same he can’t untangle the two anymore. “Never—Eris, never.”

His confession seems to have sparked a wick in him, a light flickering in his amber eyes. Slowly, his shoulders fall from were they had been pressed against his ears. Pointed, delicate, lovely. Just as Azriel remembered them.

“Why did you chase me?”

“I didn’t know it was you!” He cries, fingers locked in the roots of his hair where pain prickles as he tugs.

“And if it hadn’t been?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“I can.” He gestures to the ripped seams of his doublet, his discarded helmet and the red, raised marks from his fingernails on his forearms.

“Tell me you wouldn’t do the same, then.” He challenges, a familiar cadence in this back and forth that he’s been missing for a year.

“I wouldn’t—”

Azriel waves his hands, clearing the rest of his sentence like dust in the air. “No. No, I’ve been half mad. You haven’t—” His words falter then, the steady drip of the tender ache in his chest pinches and floods.

“You were dead. For a year, Eris, you were dead. Tell me you wouldn’t, then.” His voice is ground to gravel. The palms of his hands pressing to the earth as he stares at the shape of Eris—the intimate lines of his shoulder and chest, the dip of his waist that once cradled Azriel’s touch.

Eris’s lashes flutter quickly, eyes glossy. “I can’t.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t—I’m not dead.” He whispers. His arms are bound around his knees, curled up tight like if he presses himself close together there will be no room for him to fall apart.

Something splinters apart in Azriel—his rage, maybe. “I know.” His words are soft, so quiet the gentle breeze might sweep them away forever.

He holds out his hands; an offering Eris can choose to refuse. The sun has sunk below the hazy line of the horizon, dusk settling on top of them and among the trees like a warm blanket. From the eucalyptus leaves comes the faintest, smallest lights. Mortal stars in the quickly growing dark. They flit and dance among the grey bark trunks, settle on the round-edged leaves of the shrubs, and then hover over the little clearing Azriel and Eris find themselves kneeled in.

Azriel glances to Eris, watching the wonder and realization flicker on his face at the same time those glimmering, amber eyes settle on him. Silently, he reaches out more, the scarred skin of his palms face up. Eris doesn’t stand to walk over to him, instead falling on his hands and knees and scuffling through the dirt and brush.

He’s close, close enough, the dim glow of firefly light catching on the deep copper of his hair—Azriel tugs him in the rest of the way with a sound far to broken to ever explain falling from his lips.

“Gach’lilit,” he whispers, reverent. Strands of hair in his mouth and nose but he just buries his face deeper. “I thought you were dead.”

His arms cling around Eris, the familiar weight and shape of his body pressed to his. He tightens his grip around his waist, digging his fingers into the silk of his hair at the back of his head as Eris crawls closer, closer, like he’s trying to fit and wriggle inside Azriel’s ribcage.

“I’m so sorry,” he heaves a dry sob, arms curled so tight around his shoulders Azriel can feel his thundering pulse through his hands. “I didn’t mean—everything just fell apart so fast.”

“Why didn’t you write to me? I would have helped.”

He feels Eris shake his head against his neck. “I couldn’t. He took the journal, I had no way to contact you after and he wouldn’t—wouldn’t let me leave.” His breath shudders out of him, so heavy Azriel feels the just of his ribs against his chest.

“He?” There it is—appearing with a wild snarl, his rage reignites along with the searching path of his hands.

His head rears back, cupping Eris’s face in the warmth of his palms. There’s lilac bruises under his eyes, a scarred over cut on his cheekbone, his pink lips cracked and bleeding sluggishly. Eris is always beautiful, always has been and always will be, but now he’s almost haunting with the pale pallor of his skin, the hollowness in his cheeks.

Eris doesn’t answer, but a pained pinch forms between his brows—and Azriel understands three truths at once.

With the first, he circles back to when the sun was high enough to cap the trees. At the end of everything, there is only wrath.

The second revelation he manages to bring under his control—though it writhes, spitting and clawing against his control. Azriel will never be able to part with his rage.

The third comes on the end of the second. A lingering firefly, the vacant gleam of Eris’s amber eyes:

He now has a direction for it. A cup he needs to fill. An appetite he needs to whet—but not for himself.

~~///~~///~~///~~

*types out dissertation* ... *slowly backspaces*

Listen I totally could - I WON'T. But know that I could. I will at least say this because, as my bio says, I am and forever will be a yapper. I wanted to play around with this theme I have been obsessed with since reading the Iliad, of grief motivating rage. And how, especially in the case of Achilles, it leads to him exhibiting an animalistic, brutal rage against Hector.

So, like, there you go. ta-da

Thank you for reading!! <3

[simsycatx]

House Tour: 715 Falls Park Drive

Watch the House Tour

2 Bed 2 Full Bath Mudroom Coffee Nook Walk in Closet Price: §117,301 Lot Size: 20 x 20

Occupant: Jennifer Smallwood

CC/DLC List below along with my ramblings/notes on the build too :)

Gallery ID: SimsyCatx - tick to show custom content and use bb.moveobjects

I wanted this home to be super cosy with "Live Love Laugh" vibes. Very much decorated with a feminine eye with lots of cute B&M/Best Buy/cheap & cheerful clutter decor.

I have play-tested this and it all works except the two bathroom sinks because the sinks aren't designed for those counters. I'm guessing the counters are too high which puts the sinks too high to use. I did try to play around and try and get it working but couldn't manage it. It doesn't bother me (it kinda eliminates the dishwashing in the bathroom) so I left it for the ✨ aethestic✨ but they can easily be replaced if you want!

I've also removed the custom images in the bedroom (you can see them in the video), just because they are boudoir shots :)

DLC LIST:

Essential: For Rent High School Years Cottage Living Eco Living Seasons Get Together

Non-Essential: Growing Together - lamps & light Island Living - landscaping plant Get Famous = stairs Cats & Dogs- sculptures City Living - Rug Get to Work - sculpture Dream Home Decorator- plant Dine Out -plant Spa Day - towel Outdoor Retreat - condiment clutter My First Pet Stuff - blinds Romantic Garden - landscape flowers Free Holiday Pack - lights

CC LIST:

by House of HarlixORJANIC Brick Foundation Sectional Sofa Curtain Right & Left - Short Cushion 1 & 2 BAYSIC A good chunk of it BAFROOM Scrub Bathtub Shampoo Towel Rack Toilet roll Soap Dispenser Face Cloth KICHEN Rubber Plant Olive Oil Lovely Lady Bush Cabinets Shallow Counter Wine Rack Glass Pendant Short Chopping Board Set Bay Tree HARLUXE Sink Beach Bag Coffee Table JARDANE A good chunk LIVIN' RUM Stacking Box Tiny Tray Remote Simsung Frame TV Magazine End Table Book Series

by The Clutter Cat Understairs Shelf - Short

by @simcredibledesignsOh Reykjavik Paintings Cushions Zara Bed Nothing to Fear Geomentric Shelves Silky Intentions Toilet Brush Lotions Nuance Mugs Scandi Fever Sideboard Plant 2 3 Cushions TV Rug Naturalis Hanging Plant tall Hanging Plant Suculenta Coffee Maker Calligaris Purse Rug Sandals Purse Rack Hanger Welcome Sculpture Paper Shop Bag Botts Bag Rack Country Coffee Flower Straws Wall Mug Board Painting 1 & 2 Deco Cutting Board Capsule Tower Capsules Pomeriggio Candle Jules Sandals Lipstick Dream English Latitude Make Up Trays Toilet Brush Shampoos Cotton Swabs Agata Candle - Small Keep Life Simple Bathroom Towel Toilet Bidet Bedroom Mirror La Femme Painting Small Go Trendy Plant Bottle Spotlight Desk Daydreamer Pillow Love the Less Sphere Glass Cloche Decor Cotton Plant 4 Cushions

by @onyxsimsExcelsior Toilet Paper Toilet Paper Holder Free Standing

by @simkoosMorning Routine Closet Clutter Shoe Box Plant Mum II Mini Plants Eucalyptus v2 Cup of Straws Metal Tongs Tiny Living Room Television - Standing Thermos Makeup Palette Hanging Purse Shoe Box Storage Container V1 & V2 Stacked Cups Napkin Holder Cup of Straws

by @pralinesims Decal Posters 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, & 2

by @awingedllama Blooming Rooms Plants Paranormal Plants Apartment Therapy v2

by @soloriyaBarber Shop Decor Hair Mousse Hair Spray

by @lapanemona Harmony Set

by @syboubouCountry Kitchen Glass Jars Pot Holder Olive Oil, Pepper & Salt Induction Stove Kitchen Sink Millennial Utensils Rack Utensils Pot Wall - Halftiles Wall - FulTiles Dish soap Breadbox Life Living Room TV Remote Magazine Pile Candles Life Bathroom Razor and Cream Toilet Deodorant Soap Products Bathroom Mens Products Sophie Cushions

by @nynaevedesign Breeze Plants & Planters Kala Bathroom Soap Dish Towel V2 & V3 Toothpaste Toothbrush Soap Dispenser Lyne House Number & Lights Set Amber Bathroom Glasses

by @redheadsims-cc Nintendo Switch

by @sims4luxury2022 Christmas Collab Star Clock Rug Collection #8 White Siding Wood Wallpaper Norrland Plain Wallpapers Grassy Cobblestone Floor Farmhouse Entry Square Artwalls Doormats

by @peanutbutterjelly02 Functional Photo Frames

by Mutske Wonders of Ivy

by @peacemaker-ic Matilda Mudroom Pointless Renovation Short 2 Tile Arch Colour Me Rug - Beige, White, and Brown Gently Draping Curtains

by SnootySims Asymmetrical Vase Small Candle Scent Diffuser Home Design Books Ceramic Vase Ceramic Bowl Candle Lamp

by @ravasheencc Never Been Bedder Platform Bed Frame - Double Nothing Else Matters Mattress - Double Binge Innking Stacked Books

by Severinka Mirror Arrows Mirror Lotus Cleo Hallway Floor Mirror

by @xplatinumxluxexsimsx Luxe Hair Tools Set Wall Letters Chanel Tennis Rackets Chanel Tennis Racket Case Chanel Tennis Balls

by @mechtasimsWelcome Home Cookie tin Clock Moonstone Hanging Dima Mirror

by @madameriasims4Back to Basics Tile Wall Pot Holder Wall & Flat Wall Paint Coffee Tin Modular Shelves

by @kerriganhouse Dormitory Fairy Lights

by @pierisim Winter Garden Pillow

by @networksims Modera Coasters Legacy Coasters

by @kliekie Open Shower

by @arwenkaboomBluem Office Books 7 Arran Wall Tiles Fridge Floor Tiles Dish Rack

by @pinkbox-anye Holly Trinket Dish Jade Roller

by @sooky88 Bath & Bodyworks Candles

by NOSTYLEWOODLAND NSWL Shampoo Lobhe Mirror Folfor Large Mirror ALAS Wall Shelf

[queenharumiura]

It's just me screaming about the primaniac perfume that came in. Ignore me.

Ignore the fact that I can never seem to get the lids back on properly where it isn't slanted. ANYWAYS!

IT CAME IN!!!! This is the Gokudera perfume where reviews have stated it smells like smoke and hospital. After reading that, you know my ass had to buy it -- for science.

In comparison to the TYL Hibari perfume, you REALLY smell the musk in this one. I think I can somewhat understand the 'smoke' smell that people were referencing. It's definitely not cigarette smoke, but it doesn't have that charred smell from a burning fire either.

To me, it has more of a subtle smell that you may get from the ashes of say-- incense sticks being burnt? Perhaps because perfumes are alcohol based, I can pick up on something that smells a bit antiseptic, which could be where the 'hospital' smell is coming from that reviews talked about.

The top notes are lemon, orange, and bergamot, which are all citrus smells, and I do smell it, I think. There is a quick tart/sweet kind of smell and then you smell the secondary notes which are floral, which gives it a more pleasant and soft scent. I think the first notes being citrus gives it a harsh kick at first which then gives way to the softer notes of the florals. It say last notes be musk and i'm like bruh--- it's mostly musk what you mean. LOLOL

The last notes are Amber, Sandalwood, Patchouly, and Vanilla and I might smell the sandalwood, not sure about the rest.

I think the reviews also said that it has a masculine and tough kind of smell to it. Harsh, but still a nice smell. It is very fitting for Gokudera, and I agree.

-

I'm too lazy to look for the previous post, but let's go over Hibari again using pictures I took last time.

As noted, this one has wayyy less musk than Gokudera's lololol. It's definitely more on the subtle side. I find it kinda funny because it's almost like Gokudera wants to assault your nose and then be calm. (Eye of the storm? NAY nose of the storm in this case). Hibari's is very soft and subtle.

The reviews be like: it smells of Japan. These are Japanese reviews, by the way. One said that it smells of high quality joss-sticks, and I can definitely pick up what they're talking about. It has a very similar smokey kind of smell to Gokudera's, but it's a lot subtler. It's very soft. To me, it gives me the vibe of smelling clean, and fresh air of an open field. Just- freedom.

Top notes are Lime, Mandarin, Eucalyptus, Pear. I def pick up the eucalyptus and I think pear. There is the most subtle sweetness to the scent, but it's also got a spicey kick to the scent as well. Which is likely coming from the middle notes: Cedar Leaf, Nutmeg, Clove, Lily, Heliotrope. I do smell a bit of floral, which is probably where the lily came in. The last notes are Sandalwood, Amber, Cedarwood, Patchouly, Oakmoss- and sandalwood, amber, and cedarwood was in Gokudera's as well, which is likely why i'm picking up a similar 'smoke' kind of smell to it. Which, cloud... smoke... I get it.

So the reviews basically say it's a calm and cool kind of scent. A smell that could totally seduce you on a busy train and LOLOLOL I'M NOT GONNA LIE BY DISAGREEING!

-

The Haru perfume. Now, I have to preface this is a perfume bottle from someone who bought it likely years ago because as far as I know, the Haru perfume didn't restock from initial release. This means that a lot of the scent from the perfume may have gotten weaker.

Still, I can try to smell it. Top notes are: Lemon, Cassis, Bergamot. You REALLY do smell the citrus in the lemon for sure and the bergamot. Cassis if I recall was like an alcohol, which- I won't be that surprised by considering perfumes are mostly alcohol based so.. yeah... all of them will have a scent to it. Middle notes: Rose, Jasmine, Muguet, Lavender.

After the initial hit of the lemon/bergamot, you are met with all the floral scents. I don't think I smell much lavendar (idk what muguet smells like) but I do get the rose and jasmine. Last notes are: Musk, Amber, Woody, Peach. I do think I smell the peach, which makes the lemon smell a bit less punch-y in comparison to the way it was used in Gokudera's perfume. (both have lemon and bergamot as top notes)

So overall, Haru's has a feel of smelling of flowers and also citrus, which fits the general vibe of what I HC'ed for her. I do like to think that sometimes she's got vanilla if she was baking as well. It's a soft smell, and it's got a clean kind of smell to it for a lack of better terminology.

Hibari's was also a clean sort of smell as well. Gokudera's def is not a 'clean' smell. NOT to be understood as it being a dirty smell, no, it's more so... that a lot of the scents kinda mesh and almost fight for dominance? Kind of hard to pick out what a dominant smell is or pick out what it is that you smell. So, as it's not so easy to pick apart, it's more... cluttered of a scent?

Yeah

I got the perfumes for vanity and science. Oh, this is also for: so this is basically how I envision how Gokudera and Hibari smell if I ever thread with them AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

[mosscoveredpawss]

Hiya, Moss!

Just saw you reblogged an ‘asks list’ a few days ago so I’m snatching the opportunity 👀

🕸️ Do you often connect with your theriotype(s)? If yes, how?

🪱 What are some things that remind you of your theriotype(s)?

🦦 What candle scent would you say describes your theriotype(s)?

⭐️ If you have multiple theriotypes: how are you handling it? Do your theriotypes “mesh” well together, or are you struggling with having multiple identities?

Please feel free to just answer the ones you’re comfortable with!

- Yarrow 🐻‍❄️

Omg hiii Yarrow!! Thank you so much for the ask!!!

🕸 - I often connect to my theriotypes through clothing! Wearing green clothes makes me feel SUPER goblin and I have 2 graphic t-shirts with bears on them! Jewelry also really helps, like my earrings that have crystals on them and my bear claw necklace. Being outside in general also helps me connect to my kintypes.

🪱 - A lot of the time it's songs that remind my of my kintypes. Right now the song "Roots" by The Arcadian Wild is giving bear vibes. I take lyrics from songs (mainly folk songs) and I snatch them and "I'm going to make this about alterhumanity."

🦦 - For my goblin kintype I think something earthy would work really well. Something with Lavander and Sage. And for my bear kintype I think something with "river" in the name. I actually got homemade goat milk soap that was like "moon river" something something and I think it had eucalyptus in it!

⭐️ I am Goblinkin and I am Bearkin! For the most part they stay separate, although both kintypes cause me to want to run away into the forest and never return. I am also Violet Green Swallow 'hearted, which means that I have a familial connection with the pretty lil birds. Also, I am forest angel constelic, which means I get wing shifts and I feel as if my purpose is to protect the flora ad fauna, it's my duty.

Once again tysm for the ask! This was a lot of fun to do!!!