#fandom scented.

[celerydays]

The Curious Case of the Missing Ties

Ominis seems to know a bit more about the misplaced ribbons and ties than he lets on 🤔

🔞 NSFW // MDNI 🔞 under cut–

Full version on [TWITTER] and [POIPIKU]

[donna-rinascimentale]

dps is such an autumn/winter staple, but it always breaks my heart that neil perry never got to see the spring.

neil died when it was dark and the trees were bare and the cold raged outside his window and he never got to see the sun rise or the flowers bud. early spring is when the world itself begins to hope, ease into the gentleness it deserves. it breaks me that neil perry never got to see that.

[psalacanthea]

Death's Garden- An Astarion-Inspired Perfume Blend

This is a recipe for an essential oil blend which can be used for aromatherapy in an oil warmer, as an oil-based perfume, or in the making of bath or skin products.  The recipe is a RATIO, which means that it can be easily doubled or tripled depending on what you’re using it for. 

A scent inspired by Astarion Ancunín’s own forays into perfume-making.  Bright, full, and complex, the prickly green herbs and sophisticated citrus of this unique cologne are gentled by a background of aged resinous wood and vanilla.  Herbal but warm, the curious mix of rosemary and bergamot is bracing and strong, but not overwhelming– the perfect cover for the stylish man about town who wishes to hide the unwholesome air of undeath.

Can be used in lotions, cologne bases or with a carrier oil, but would not recommend for use in cosmetics that are applied to the face or mouth.  As I have allergies stemming from many synthetic scents, I only use essential oils.  Bergamot is photoreactive! Please do not apply to your skin before going into the sun, you willl burn.



Astarion Essential Oil Blend Recipe

5 drops Bergamot essential oil  (citrus bergamia)

3 drops Rosemary essential oil   (rosmarinus officinalis)

2 drops Frankincense essential oil  (boswellia serrata))

2 drops Vanilla botanical extract  (vanilla planifolia)

1 drop Sweet Fennel essential oil (foeniculum vulgare)

Notes:

Wet: Goes on with a burst of citrus and woody herbs that quickly fades into an intensely green, very layered scent.

Dry: it dries down with just a hint of honey-sweetness, anise, and a strong bergamot presence with pleasantly dusty old wood notes.

these notes are from ME, and do not mean you will experience the perfume in the same way!

Warnings&Comments:

Please be aware if you’ve never used essential oils- they should be diluted with a carrier oil before being applied to skin.  Good quality grapeseed oil isn’t a bad choice, and it’s cheap!  I use sweet almond usually.   

Not a food safe blend.  

Can smell completely different on your skin from person to person, due to how essential oils react with body chemistry

Store your finished product in a container that is tinted, as exposure to sunlight will make the scent fade faster.

I use Vanilla botanical extract, but vanilla oleoresin is also fine, though it will tint your finished perfume brownish.  Otherwise this should come out as a very pale amber color.

Citrus oils are photoreactive, as noted above. They will burn your skin if you go into direct sunlight after applying.

Other BG3 Scents:

Astarion: Midnight Bacchanal

Gale: Faithfully Yours

Shadowheart: Night Orchid

[trans-hua-cheng-agenda]

MXTX is a gateway drug to omegaverse

[notknickers]

This was the hardest test I have ever taken. And, at some point, I've had to learn how to drive.

And here are the results:

Tagging a few people I follow to spread this. (If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore; but if you do it, please share!) @magicalpotatolover @distortionposting @completely-real-and-normal-human

[workingdownthewordmine]

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter 1 Behind Closed Doors

Set adrift by his own choosing, Bucky goes home to the abandoned apartment he grew up in, but perhaps it isn't as abandoned as he first thought.

Read it on AO3 here.

Chapter 2

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes Rating: T CW: blood, threat Prompts filled: Fandom-Free Bingo Frosty Edition (card 1): Cuddling to stay warm @fandom-free-bingo Fandom-Free Bingo Flight Edition: Anonymous gifts Fluffbruary: Day 2 - Scent, Day 16 - Neighbour @fluffbruary Seasonal Delights Language of Flowers: Calla lily @seasonaldelightsbingo Multifandom-Flash Round 1: A scar to remember @multifandom-flash

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“The Bible tells us to love our neighbors, and also to love our enemies; probably because generally they are the same people.” 

G.K. Chesterton 

Bucky came and went via the fire escape that he’d carefully mangled on his second night back there, a relic of his childhood now inaccessible to anyone who couldn’t bend cast iron or jump 6ft straight up. Didn’t account for at least half of the people he actually knew, sure, including the guy he’d most often climbed it with, but seemed effective so far at keeping out random squatters. Not real charitable, he guessed, locking down an entire apartment building to himself somewhere so many people lacked even a roof to call shelter but he never signed up for them to be his problem. And he liked not being disturbed. Other things he liked included not thinking too hard about some of the stranger aspects of the building he was once again calling home. In spite of the housing shortage, he guessed it might not be so weird that no one had gotten round to tearing the place down in all these years, and to judge by the disintegrating newspapers he’d found tacked up as draft excluders the building hadn’t been inhabited since the 80s. But why was the gas still connected? No electricity, far as he could tell without knocking more holes in the walls than he thought the place could take without crumbling, but the water was still running.

Those mysteries had come clearer after he found the first camera. It had been pretty well camouflaged by a dense cobweb that looked dyed black by half a century of city smog – fuck knew how the asshole had managed that. He’d never have spotted it if he hadn’t caught the whine of tiny servos or something when he passed it. He’d panicked, smashed the thing, torn around the building searching for more. As he bore down on the third, it spoke to him. “Hey Terminator, point’s taken. Quit breaking my stuff. Drop the others in the mailbox and I’ll have them picked up.” He had dropped them in the mailbox. But he’d taken a certain joy in crushing them as small as he could before he did so. Oops. Sorry, Stark. It made him itchy for a while to think of Stark having anything to do with his habitation – hadn’t he turned down a space at the compound because he wanted out of barracks controlled by someone else? But, fuck it, if the nerd had nothing better to do with his billions than pay Bucky’s bills he might as well let him. And now he was back, he didn’t fancy leaving. 

This last week his resolve was being tested. It had started with the smell. He knew the odours of sweat and blood well enough, and he knew that neither had been coming from the back apartment when he left for work. He’d been back there, of course, on his initial homecoming perimeter check and again on his hunt for Stark’s bugs. The place had been as deserted as the rest of the building, inhabited by nothing more sinister than rats, roaches, and a few pigeons. He needed to check again. He also needed to stop and fucking think. He was half way over the sill before he remembered it had taken an hour’s scrubbing for him to get more than a bit of half-assed light through his own apartment’s grimy windows. From the outside? No chance. It would have to be the hallway. 

With the generator humming and the wireless playing (somehow even now he struggled to think of it as the digital gadget it was), giving all the impression that he was still in his own apartment, he edged out into the hall. He winced at the minute change in the air pressure when he opened the door. But the only people likely to drop-by unannounced who would notice something like that would either have taken more care with their smell or would have said hi. Unless it was deliberate bait. Ten feet to the next door. A longer step over the cracked floorboard that had groaned ominously the first time he’d crossed it.  

The smell of the intruder grew stronger as he approached the door. The ancient lock hadn’t given him much difficulty when he took his original look around but the door was heavy and he shifted it with care. He wished he’d thought to oil the hinges, or pulled the door right off them. Aging lino crackled silently beneath his feet. His own heartbeat filled his ears and gradually he remembered how to breathe and move, even blink, in time with it, aligning the sounds he made so anything that fell outside the rhythm would instantly draw his attention. He remained alone with the soundtrack of his own body.  

He knew he was just short of silent as he passed from room to room, every sense trained for the least disturbance... so when the affronted pigeon erupted from behind the bathroom door raising a fetid cloud of feathers and dust, it took him effort not to swallow his own tongue. He tried to inhale as little as possible of the heavily pigeon-laced air while he let his heartrate settle and watched the bird panic at the narrow window until it finally burst out into the gathering evening gloom. The bird’s distress must have been audible to anyone else in the otherwise silent apartment but nothing and no-one stirred. He lowered his guard a degree as he made his way around the few other rooms. His search was thorough, every cupboard opened, the sparse remains of furniture eased away from the walls. No one.  

The thought that it might have been his imagination haunted him from hall to kitchen. He shook the hair from his eyes and touched a cold wrist to his forehead, trying to remember exactly. The smell lingering in the hall. He was sure. Wasn’t he? He shivered. But the air in here felt disturbed, didn’t it? By more than a pigeon and his own cat-like steps? There was a taint on the air – garbage? He crossed, moving more quickly now, to the window that overlooked the alley and its tideless sea of detritus. The smell hit him harder as he stepped into the cold air that hung in front of the window. The glass was uncracked and no draft would be creeping around that deeply dirt-caked frame. He tested the sash. Grime and old paint wouldn’t resist him but it might hold out longer than the decrepit frame. A little more pressure. He hissed between his teeth when the window rose, barely sticking or rattling in its grooves.  

He was crouched below the sill before conscious thought could catch up. 

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Dumbass.  

How long had he been stood in full view of any of half a dozen rooftops and twice as many windows? Long enough for a whole squad of snipers to take their shots. Again he let his pulse regulate and raised his head a fraction. No one had shot. And as thorough a survey as he could make of the surrounding area, stopping to scrutinise every spot he would have selected for his own firing position, showed him nothing suspicious – not a movement or a shadow out of place. Nothing, in fact, to cause him concern. Until he drew his gaze back into the room, and down over the smear of blood on the peeling paper below the windowsill. He sank down. A knee had brushed the wall as the other leg lifted to the sill. And, yes, now he could see the pattern of new chips in the old paint where a foot had braced. He returned to the blood. A fair stain. The size of his palm. A significant wound, but not enough to keep the victim from climbing or to force them to staunch the blood with a hand. He gave the window another look as he closed it. No trace of a bloody fingerprint. 

Bucky returned to his own apartment troubled. He could nail up the windows as he’d done downstairs. He had enough supplies for that, sure. From his seat where Winnie Barnes’ spotless kitchen table had once stood, he glanced at the stack of salvaged wood in his mom’s bedroom. She’d be spinning in her grave if he didn’t get it cleared out of there soon. And with a bit more work he could probably make the windows virtually unreachable by climbing too.  

He picked up the M38 that stood on its stock beside him and began checking it over again. The thing was... He found himself picturing the boarded up back apartment – dark and silent rooms in which his neighbours had once laughed and rowed and rushed to get out the door for work. The thing was... that, if he forced whoever had gone to the trouble to climb into the second floor of his building to move off permanently, they were unlikely to lose interest. He would either have to hunt them down – so much for the quiet life – or he would be waiting for a bullet through the head or worse until they made themselves known one way or another. That didn’t exactly sound like a peaceful retirement either, did it? And the thing was... he’d felt his heart beating back there.  

Whatever he did about apartment 4, he wasn’t as safe in here as he’d let himself believe for a while. That needed fixing tonight.  

This was his last stop, rucksack already bulging. He heaped the coils of fishing line and bungee cords on the clerk’s desk. The guy’s eyebrows rose when Bucky dropped a couple of handfuls of personal attack alarms on top of the pile. “Stocking fillers. For my self-defence class,” he offered. His cheeks heated a little when the man glanced at the glossy and explicit calendar behind his shoulder which read “February” without offering the least apology for the embarrassment caused. Bucky followed its example and stared blankly, defying contradiction.  

Supplies secured, he disregarded his fire escape and entered by his bedroom window, hauling his way up by the well-concealed handholds he’d made on his way out, scooping out lines of mortar with Vibranium fingertips. He paused on the windowsill to delicately pluck the rudimentary tripwire free and by-pass the edged weaponry that would otherwise have made a spirited attempt to ruin his good looks. He’d considered using a few grenades, but decided it wouldn’t be worth the clean-up. He had enough structural damage to repair around the building as it was. He did a quick round of the other possible entrances, but all were untouched, their makeshift defences untriggered. Finally, he wormed his way up inside the crumbling wall cavity to retrieve one or two personal items he hadn’t been able to leave on display to any sightseer or would-be hit squad but could also not carry freely around Brooklyn, his rifle chief amongst them. He’d read a couple of Stark’s James Bond novels when he’d been insufferably bored in the Tower. Why did that guy’s weapons all fit up a sleeve or his ass or something? When his requisitions came through the British civil service? Stark, SHIELD, and Hydra should all be fucking embarrassed to be lagging so far behind.  

With the limited supplies he’d had on hand, protecting his personal domain had taken precedence. Once he’d made a more professional job of his fortifications, he loaded up some materials and headed back into the corridor. And stopped.  

Something was on the floor outside of number four. Something whose colour and life stood out in the dingy shadows. He went closer and looked down at the leafy plant in its bright striped pot, its three white trumpet-like flowers gazing right back at him. Surely, only a lunatic or a child could like a combination of sunflower yellow, electric blue, and that alarmingly neon pink? A folded paper dropped as he picked up the plant. The handwriting inside was almost as childish as the colour scheme, printed in biro comfortably rounded and neat – something about it made Bucky momentarily picture the writer’s tongue poking out between their teeth as they worked. 

“Hey neighbour, sorry if I bothered you this afternoon. 

Got you a housewarming present as an apology. Hope you like it!” 

It was unsigned, though they’d made no apparent attempt to disguise their handwriting. He glared at the door. It hung slightly askew, and would do – of course – until he was done with the repairs to his own place and made a start on the rest of the apartments. Well, if he was honest with himself, he’d have to get started on his own apartment first of all. Nothing stirred beyond the door. He tucked the note back into the pot and went thoughtfully back up the corridor. He found the plant a spot by a window and stood staring at it for a full minute, waiting for an explosion or maybe some kind of toxic spore cloud – though maybe the latter was kind of cartoonish even for his usual enemies. The plant did nothing sinister. Its dark glossy leaves shone slightly in the light of the sunset.  

Bucky took his M38 up to the roof with him that evening and stayed low for a few minutes, circling in a crouch and checking out his surroundings, but in the end the distant roar of the city lulled him just as it always had. On his third circuit, he touched his fingertips to the chimney stack where he and Steve had scraped their initials, taking turns with Bucky’s new penknife. Smog and pigeons had done their best to obliterate the deep, angular “JBB” and the lighter, neater “SGR”, but Bucky had done his best to restore them the first time he’d come back up here. They’d huddled together against the stack for warmth, watching the stars and hoping Stevie’s dad wouldn’t turn up to drag him home this time, Bucky’s arm usually wrapped round his best friend’s skinny shoulders to stop him shivering. 

He’d dismantled the lower part of the fire escape after his search for the intruder but when it came time to remove their old route to temporary freedom... no, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Fuck it, anyway – anyone determined enough to get onto his roof, with no way to cover the first twenty feet, wouldn’t be put off by a little thing like a missing fire escape. So, he wondered as he settled down with his back to the long-cold chimney and let his gaze wander out over the Hudson, who would got to so much trouble to infiltrate his safe house, just to leave a smear of blood and a goddamn house plant? “Neighbour”? If they were a local, why had he never had any inkling of someone interested in the place? He’d been vigilant enough. Passers-by mostly treated the condemned and wire-fenced pile as though it wasn’t even there. Like it was as invisible to them as it was irrelevant. Just a relic. Hah. A ghost story.  

A last glimpse of the sunset flashed off his fingers. He rolled his shoulders and hissed between his teeth. It was bad tonight, but he would have to do without the pills. If there was still someone prowling around he wouldn’t risk being caught sleeping too deeply. He eased his left shoulder; knotted scar tissue stretched like exposed sinew, raw as a live wire. No, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. No fear on that score. He tapped his knuckles against the wall and knocked free a triangle of cement. He bounced it on his palm. He and Steve had thrown so many of these it was a wonder there was any building left. Steve’s had almost always fallen short of any mark he chose, of course, though Buck had sworn blind he’d seen them hit more than once when his buddy’s spirits needed a lift. Hundreds had dropped into the alley below, sometimes raising angry shouts that sent them laughing into cover before anyone could spot their faces silhouetted overhead. The fragment exploded into dust against a raised air vent three buildings over and Bucky grinned to himself as he swung over the edge of the roof and returned home.

For @heretherebewolves, my inspiration.

[celticwolf55]

Fake it till you make it - Chapter 1 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1346747869-fake-it-till-you-make-it-chapter-1?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=CelticWolf55&wp_originator=vp9i2BMRe0TWah%2B%2BbM1fp9JKTBZfbflda6nh%2BRRB8B3mbnU65xLvU3DKExZ3%2BhJxZZEl3pofGPjNGTMBFpKsO0iHZdYF%2BM5VbR%2BXuksa4CEVzlGU5RjAanDBXEmc5hrs 

 "I regret that I must ask for your assistance on a personal matter." Wednesday stated, slowly sitting down beside Enid on her colourful bed. "Are you okay?" Enid asked, suddenly filled with concern. "I am fine, but I appreciate your concern. However, I was hoping you might accompany me to my family reunion over the school break at the manor?" Wednesday asked. "I'm flattered. But I feel like there's more to this request." Enid replied, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Impressive. You've been picking things up from me. Yes, your intuition is correct. My motives for asking are not entirely pure. My family has been pestering me regarding a paramore, and I cannot suffer through another family reunion with inane questions regarding when I will find a partner. Therefore, I was hoping you'd assist me with a ruse by pretending to be my girlfriend." "G-girlfriend?!" Enid stuttered in disbelief. "Yes. Would that be something you'd be willing to assist me with?" Wednesday asked, cautiously hopeful she'd agree as Enid was the person she trusted the most to achieve this ruse successfully. ------------------------------------------------ Chapters come out every Wednesday

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Medical log, stardate 18935.15. Once more have I seen the tailor go out in his lizard fashion—

[prince-liest]

I recently got very into perfumes after realizing that the V&R Flowerbomb I've been wearing for like 6+ years has become very grating to my nose over time and I needed to explore other scents, and it's absolutely wild how acute the realization that simply Walking Around While Smelling Nice improves my day so immensely is.

[sunseekerstarchaser]

Sunseeker First Challenge

Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart. My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl. - x

— Top 5 Wolfstar fanfics. 

The Cadence of Part Time Poets  by @motswolo​

Scent of the Moon by @quietlemonhush​

All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89    

that’s the art of getting by by @sarewolf

How Remus Got His Groove Back by RealityShowJunky

[demon-in-the-details]

As someone who is very sensitive to smell (to the point that certain smells will give me instant migraines, and I often smell things others around me can't) it is hilarious to me that angels and demons can smell each other, even if the being they are smelling is gone and there is just a lingering scent left behind. My headcanon is that Aziraphale and Crowley love each other's scent. I like to try and imagine what each one smells like to the other.

[facultyloungecosplay]

I’ve plugged Pierrot Perfumery (formerly GoblinCrow) before, but I just want to say how unabashedly generous they are with orders - I ordered five small samples of their latest scents and they sent me two additional samples and an ENTIRE bottle of another. They doubled my order and everything smells beyond divine.

Queer-created, queer-approved. Genuinely unique, often bizarre, perfectly strange fragrance. I’m not at all compensated or even encouraged to advertise; I’m just very happy to do so.

[psalacanthea]

Faithfully Yours- A Gale of Waterdeep-inspired Perfume Blend

this is a recipe for an essential oil blend which can be used for aromatherapy in an oil warmer or as a perfume.  The recipe is a RATIO, which means that it can be easily doubled or tripled depending on what you’re using it for.  

Inspired by the charming and erudite Gale of Waterdeep from Baldur’s Gate 3, this scent evokes the warmth of scholarly companionship, tucked away in a maze of bookshelves.  Hints of mystical incense and worn-in leather mix with a waft of lavender from a waiting bath somewhere beyond your idyll in the heart of a wizard’s tower.  An ungranted wish.

Can be used in lotions, cologne bases or with a carrier oil, but would not recommend for use in cosmetics that are applied to the face or mouth.  As I have allergies stemming from many synthetic scents, I only use essential oils, and cannot speak to how this would work with synthetics.  Lemon oil is photoreactive!  Please do not apply before going into direct sunlight, as it can cause the skin to burn.

Gale Essential Oil Blend

2 drops Vetiver essential oil  (vetiveria zizanioides)

1 drop Frankincense essential oil  (boswellia serrata)

1 drops Coffee essential oil  (coffea arabica)

2 drop Vanilla botanical extract  (vanilla planifolia)

2 drops Lemon essential oil (citrus x limon)

1 drops Lavender essential oil (lavandula angustifolia)

Notes:

Wet:  vibrant lemon and uplifting green herbs followed by a quick burst of coffee’s nutty-bitter warmth and a hint of incense, bracing and bright.

Dry: tart citrus fades quickly, and the sharpness of the lavender does as well, leaving behind a rich, velvety soft layered scent.  A cozy, snuggly perfume that’s still complex and full of depth.

these notes are from ME, and do not mean you will experience the perfume in the same way!

Warnings:

Please be aware if you’ve never used essential oils- they should be diluted with a carrier oil before being applied to skin.  Good quality grapeseed oil isn’t a bad choice, and it’s cheap!  I use sweet almond usually.   

Not a food safe blend.  

Store your finished product in a container that is tinted, as exposure to sunlight will make the scent fade faster.

I use Vanilla botanical extract, but vanilla oleoresin is also fine, though it will tint your finished perfume brownish.

As noted above, lemon (and all citrus) essential oil is photoreactive (reacts with sunlight). I have very sensitive pasty skin, but I’m always careful to only apply diluted, and have yet to be burned.

Other BG3 Scents:

Astarion: Midnight Bacchanal

[roughentumble]

ok fan theories, what kind of scents do we think jaskier/dandelion wears when he uses colognes/perfumes?

[blackbird-brewster]

There's nothing cooler than getting to create candles inspired by Fooled Around (and Fell in Love)!! These customs were all designed by me and made by Oasis Scents.

Scent is a huge stimm for me, I always have a candle burning while I write, so I love having ones specifically inspired by the fic I'm currently working on 😍