#smelling candles

[frnkiebby]

pretty sure that candle needs to be open if you really wanna smell it frank~🎃

[zackthelion]

ngl I turn 33 in two days and the only thing that's gotten me excited about it is that it falls during Incineroar week. A week invented by a furry porn artist 2 days ago but fuck if I ain't got the holiday spirit in me right now!!!!

[romeowsstuff]

HE CAME HE CAME HE CAME OMG

[moodyvoid]

The League of Villains are suddenly your roommates!

What’s a bad roommate habit you have that you think would annoy them?

What’s a good roommate habit you have that you think they would appreciate?

Alternatively, you can list off their good/bad roommate habits too!

[kariighost]

I strongly feel like Levi would smell like a pine forest mixed with a heavy rainstorm

[bishopony]

no "book store" scented candle will ever be fully accurate until they can harness the power of lingering mildew smell

[ashe-withane]

Dead Boy Detectives as Candles

(Using only the recent collection from 1 brand so I can do more of these when they get a new collection…)

Bonus because I couldn’t help myself:

[monsterkitties]

humanoid lani loli because i havent seen any really good fanart of him :) i love him. hes so cute LOL

[suzypfonne]

I think he likes the way Crowley smells. Look at him taking a deep breath while Crowley can't see his face. He's also probably replaying that night in 1941 when something happened.

He can feel love. Can he smell magic? Or lust?

[saydesole]

Candles

[gideonisms]

Pro tip you can imagine Gideon nav in any mundane circumstance in order to feel something

[bigdumbbambieyes]

Steve finds his boyfriend in the candle section of the home goods store.

Going around the corner, he spots Billy reading the label of a candle before pulling the top of it off and giving the wax a curious sniff, scrunching his face in disgust as he puts it back onto the shelf.

It’s so…cute. Adorable, even.

And Billy tries his best to look hard, with his leather jacket and boots, but there’s something so incredibly soft and sweet about the sight of his ‘big bad’ boyfriend sniffing scented candles by himself.

Maybe he’s looking for one for their bedroom.

Approaching his boyfriend, Steve slides his hand along Billy’s lower back as his dark eyes land on the candle in the blond’s hand. Eucalyptus & Mint. Soy wax blend.

Billy pops the lid off and gives it a little sniff, purses his lips a little in thought before holding it under Steve’s nose and mumbling, “What d’you think?”

Steve slides his hand into Billy’s back pocket and smells the candle, nodding in approval at it, “S’nice. You like it?”

“No,” Billy hums with a little smirk that he flashes at his boyfriend, “It stinks. Like you.”

“You fucking stink,” Steve mumbles with a roll of his eyes because he can’t think of a better comeback, and Billy’s jeans are too fucking tight because he can’t pinch his boyfriend’s ass while his hand is in his pocket.

Ridiculous.

“How about this one, then, hm?” Billy holds up another candle and Steve takes a sniff, smells roses and citrus and it’s not bad, but it’s not good, either.

“Pass.” He mumbles, tries to pull his hand out of Billy’s back pocket when a woman comes down the aisle but Billy’s quick to grab his wrist and keep it there.

He leers at Steve, just a little, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To look at the throw blankets,” Steve huffs, feeling his cheeks warm because the woman has definitely witnessed their little public display and normally Steve is fine with it, he loves giving Billy a peck on the lips or holding his hand when they’re out, but the look Billy is giving him makes him feel just a little hot all over.

“Great, let’s go together,” Billy smirks as he plucks the Eucalyptus & Mint candle from the shelf with his free hand, the other still forcing Steve’s hand into his back pocket, “Lead the way, stink.”

“I hate you,” Steve mumbles without any heat, pushing on Billy’s ass to get him to move down the aisle, ignoring the cackle of laughter his boyfriend makes.

[cosmicwhoresimpingismyliving]

Bliss💚

[bugsoda]

you watch, horrified, as i peel off my skin. i am not who you thought i was, instead revealing myself as a disgusting, wretched creature.

all the candles in your house are gone.

[wordsinhaled]

got struck with an AU in which dream owns a weird little candle shop called Lucid Dreams Candle Co. (or something similar) and makes his own scented candles, incense, reed diffusers, and so on

there’s an aromatherapy relaxation room in the back, where you can go to have a quiet moment or a nap in a dimly lit space that smells lovely and has relaxing music or binaural beats for sleep playing from secreted-away speakers. there’s a workshop space where dream actually makes his products. and above the shop is dream’s little flat, full of mythology books and plants...

except it’s a wonder he can keep the plants alive at all, and that he runs a shop where so many people go for their self-care needs. as far as his sister is concerned dream always looks too pale, always drawn and tired and she thinks maybe if he opened his curtains or spent more time in his own aromatherapy room or perhaps went on holiday to the seaside for a bit it might do him some good

hob works part time at the inn across the street while going for his doctorate. he wanders into the shop one day on a break - in the middle of dream massaging a customer’s temples, as a demo, with an essential oil blend he carries that’s meant to help with migraine. “just a little will go a long way,” dream is saying quietly as hob enters, and hob’s attention snaps to him because who has a voice like that?

hob ends up staring at dream’s fine-boned hands, and at him, in general, because who is he.

until he hears that voice again, but this time it’s dream saying, “how may i help you?” in a tone that simultaneously has hob imagining all the ways this beautiful stranger could help him, thank you, and thinking that maybe he’s made a mistake and the shop is actually closed, or something (after all, it’s mostly empty)

“er,” he says, “no, just looking. around, i mean… looking around.”

“ah,” says the man.

and dream lowers his hands gracefully from the other customer’s face, rings up their little vial of essential oil, and then suddenly he’s at hob’s side, noiseless as a shadow. “is there something in particular you’re looking for?” he asks, very gracious and a little imposing and impossibly, almost ethereally beautiful.

people like this don’t own shops, do they? hob thinks. they walk the runway at paris fashion week and ride around in stretch limousines and most definitely do not cross paths with exhausted graduate students of history. god’s wounds.

“well,” hob starts… and stops. truthfully he’d just wanted a break from the monotony of his usual lunch, which consists mostly of revision or reading for class. “i suppose i don’t really know.”

and for some reason, the stranger smiles, as though he has been set a puzzle or a challenge that pleases him. it transforms his face, makes his eyes glimmer. “i am dream,” he says. “welcome to my establishment. i believe you may enjoy one of my newer creations...”