#Natural Fragrances Market

[s6523]

digital marketing company in Indore

 We are one of the leading suppliers of 100% natural essential oils online, therapeutic-grade Essential Oils, Carrier Oils & Fragrance Oils in India. Natural aromatic chemicals called essential oils are taken from plants. Since they contain the essence of the plant from which they were harvested, the oils are called essential. This comprises the plant's aroma as well as its therapeutic qualities and other traits unique to medicinal plants. Sunira Digitech is a digital strategy firm in Indore, India, offering a full spectrum of content creation & digital marketing services.

[navybrat817]

Sweet as a Berry

Pairing: Farmer!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: You go to the local market to buy berries and meet the man of your dreams.

Word Count: Over 3.5k

Warnings: Fluff, meet-cute, flirting, tension, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Welcome to my Bountiful Harvest AU ( or Farmer Fall as discussed with @thezombieprostitute and @witchywithwhiskey ) and our intro to farmer!Bucky. Thanks to @yenzys-lucky-charm and @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me babble about this man. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your weekly trip to the farmers market was one you looked forward to. A place for merchants to come together to offer an abundance of products, there was always something to browse or discover. Today you only had one thing on your list: berries for your pies. Frozen fruit did the job, but you preferred to bake your pies with fresh fruit. Buying from the market was also a way to support local farmers. Maybe one day you'd even bag a handsome farmer for yourself. It was a silly fantasy, of course, but your mind liked to wander some days.

Not that there was anything wrong with city men, but they couldn't compare to a man working on a farm. There was just something about a guy who knew how to work with nature and provide, wasn't intimidated by hard work or afraid to get his hands dirty, and had a strong body and character due to his work ethic. You liked to think you’d make a good wife and take care of him the way he’d take care of you. You also liked to imagine a handsome man walking inside after a long day and stripping down and wanting dessert before a hearty meal. And by dessert, you meant you.

For now, you were only a farmer’s wife in your dreams and journal.

The gravel crunched under your tires as you turned down the road, the market coming into focus. You made good time and managed to snag a decent parking space. A little bit of walking wouldn’t hurt. Plus the day was nice enough that you wore one of your sundresses, the soft breeze pleasant against your skin once you got out of your car.

Lively chatter greeted you as you got closer to the stalls and booths and expertly weaved your way through the bustling crowd. The various produce and flowers created a kaleidoscope of colors, brightened more by the brilliant rays coming from the sun. The earthy fragrance that blended with the sweet and ripe aromas was one you only encountered here. There was nothing else quite like it.

Quick movement in front of you made you come to a stop, your heart jumping. Had you not been paying attention you would've collided with a little boy. “Mama, there's Dada! He’s getting honey!” He shouted as he ran past and threw his arms around a man’s legs.

“Walk, please, and watch where you're going!” His mother said after him, a both fond and exasperated look on her face as she gave you a tired smile. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No apologies,” you smiled. He hadn't done anything wrong. “I wish I had that energy.”

“Same. I’d bottle and sell it,” she said over her shoulder.

Watching as the woman went to her son and husband, both of them looking at her like the sun rose today because of her, you felt a twinge of sadness. Your trips to the market were solo, always had been. You longed to have a partner to go with, someone to put his arm around you or hold your hand as you picked out items together. Even better if the two of you could make a family down the line.

With a wistful smile, you shook yourself from those thoughts. There was no reason to feel sorry for yourself. Just because you didn't have that in the present didn't mean it wouldn't happen in the future. You had to have faith that the right one would come along at the right time.

For now, you would find some berries and be on your way.

Walking a bit further, you spotted a booth you hadn't seen in your previous visits. The sign that read “Barnes’s Berries” complete with hand painted fruit pieces piqued your curiosity as you stopped in front of it. As the customers in front of you paid for their bundles and blocked the view of the person assisting them, you took a minute to admire the range of berries reflecting a spectrum from blues to reds. Your mouth watered from the sight. There were so many things you could do with these. Pies, jams, cakes-

A deep, husky voice asked, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

You made some sort of sound as you turned around, your heart pounding in your chest. The man in front of you was tall with thick thighs that deliciously filled out his jeans. The rolled up plaid shirt exposed part of his arms. The left was covered in tattoos and the ink couldn't hide the muscles or veins. If anything, it accentuated his strength. His chest and shoulders seemed to go on for miles, too. The chestnut hair that fell below his chin and stubble on his face gave the already handsome man a rugged look.

Sapphire eyes crinkled when you made eye contact and he smiled so softly that you couldn't help but smile in return. A man of his size and stature working a berry stand when he looked like he could easily chop wood or build his own home was otherworldly. He didn't just step out of your fantasy. He took your thoughts and made them better than you could've imagined.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked again a bit hesitantly when you didn’t answer his question. “If you're still looking, please, take your time.”

“You’re real, right?” You asked, your face heating up as the words left your mouth. A giggle followed because you couldn’t believe you just said that. “What I meant to say is, yeah. Just looking for now,” you added to save face, smoothing out your dress for no reason.

Amusement filled his eyes, the soft smile still tugging at his lips. “I sure hope I’m real and not just a figment of your imagination.”

You wished you could reach out and touch him to “prove” he was real, but didn’t want to weird him out. “Not a figment of my imagination,” you said, but that wasn’t totally true. You very much imagined a man like him when you were alone at night. “But I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” It wasn't like you knew every single vendor, but you would've remembered him.

He sure as hell had a face worth remembering.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced, offering you his hand. His grip was gentler than you expected, but there was no mistaking the roughness in his touch. The man worked with his hands and it showed. “This is actually my first week here.”

You said your name, proud that you remembered it with the way he was staring so intently at you. He stood a bit close, too. Close enough that you could smell his woodsy cologne. Subtle, yet enticing. “I hope everyone has been welcoming.”

“Most have been very friendly, which has made my job easy,” he said. You could imagine with his looks and friendly demeanor despite his size that he’d have a lot of repeat customers. “A couple of my friends recently started selling here, too, so it’s good to have some familiar faces close by.”

“That’s really nice. I’m sure they're glad you're close by, too,” you smiled. You wondered who his friends were. “Did you have to travel far to get here?”

“Yeah, they’re good guys,” he smiled back, your heart racing when he ran a hand through his hair. “Not too far since my farm is only a few miles away, which also makes things easier. Makes me wonder why I didn't do this sooner.”

You nearly swooned. Your dream man was becoming dreamier by the second. “You have a farm not too far from here?”

It would’ve been easy to assume he did since he had a stand here, but not everyone who worked the market had their own land. It was also easy to assume he wasn't married since you didn't see a ring on his left hand or any sort of tan line or indentation to indicate that he removed a ring. A man like that though probably had a partner. It wasn't worth getting your hopes up.

“Yeah. I have a few acres. Beautiful place. but if I’m being honest it gets a bit lonely since it’s just me out there with no one to share it with.” He scratched the back of his neck with a small chuckle and avoided your gaze. “I don't know why I said that. That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Your stomach did a funny flip. Not just because he pretty much let it slip that he wasn't with anyone when you assumed moments ago that he was, but from the urge to comfort him taking over. You wished you could wrap him in a hug.

“Well, I don't have a farm, but I understand feeling lonely some days,” you admitted. Being vulnerable with a complete stranger wasn't how you expected your day to go, but you wanted him to know he wasn't alone in that feeling. “And it’s not embarrassing,” you assured him. If anything, it was endearing.

He slowly met your gaze. “I appreciate that.” He rubbed the back of his neck again as your heart began to race. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I find it hard to believe that someone as sweet and beautiful as you gets lonely.”

The compliment left you momentarily dazed before a shy smile graced your face. You could've said the same thing about him. Maybe the instant connection you felt wasn’t so one-sided. “Well, I do. Even coming here, I’m usually by my lonesome” you said, the words not at all bitter. Just honest. “And do you call all potential customers sweet and beautiful?”

“No, I don’t.” He continued to gaze at you before he cleared his throat. “But you said potential customer. If I made you uncomfortable…”

“You didn’t.” It was gentlemanly that he wanted to make sure that his comment didn’t put you off. “There’s a stand a little further down that I sometimes stop at, though your berries are extremely tempting.”

Bucky’s brows pinched before he snapped his fingers. “Jed, right? He’s actually not here this week. Had an accident recently. Broke his leg.”

You gasped. “Oh, my god. That’s awful.” Jed was a kind, older farmer who had been there for as long as you could remember. A hard worker who didn’t deserve any kind of pain. “I hope he heals quickly.”

Bucky nodded solemnly. “So, do I,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m no Jed, but is there anything I can do to get your business today?”

The hopeful look in his blue eyes had you smiling slightly. “Well, I-”

“Wait. Let me try to guess what you’re specifically looking for before you tell me.” He waited until you nodded. “Clearly berries, but not for anything like a fruit salad or an everyday snack,” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and you tried not to giggle when he grinned triumphantly. “Pies. You want berries to make pies. Blueberries, right? Maybe blackberries, too. And if I had to pick a third, raspberries.”

Your mouth fell open. Was he a mind reader? “Yeah, that’s exactly it. Blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries. I have this triple berry pie recipe that I love and I make the crust from scratch and…” You bit your lip to keep from rambling. He didn’t need to hear all that. “Sorry. I just like to bake.”

“No apologies.” His light touch to your arm surprised you as he met your gaze. “You sound very passionate about it and I like that.”

You found yourself nodding, unable to tear your gaze away. It took everything within you to not blurt out how gorgeous he was. And on top of that, he was kind? Maybe he wasn’t real. “I am passionate about it. And not just pies. Other treats, too,” you said, nodding to the strawberries. “Those would be perfect for mini shortcakes or scones.”

He studied you with an appreciative smirk. The sundress was a good choice. “I have no doubt your treats are delicious and you are making me very hungry,” he said, your heart thudding. The smirk disappeared as quickly as it appeared when he gestured to his stand. “And I think they’ll be tastier with my berries.”

You blinked, stuck on the fact that he called your treats delicious. It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like he called you delicious and he hadn’t tasted anything of yours, though you’d find a way to bake something and deliver it to him personally if he asked. “You sound very confident, Bucky.”

He puffed his chest out. “I take a lot of pride in all my crops. Tell you what,” he said, stepping away from you to grab a sample cup. “Why don’t you try some and see how you like them? If they aren't the best berries you’ve ever tasted, I’ll shut my stand down and let you on your way.”

“You’ll really shut your stand down? That’s a big wager,” you smiled, his fingers touching yours as he handed the cup over. It heated you up all over again. “The look of them alone is amazing,” you said, the vibrant berries beckoning for you to have a bite.

“Taste amazing, too, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

Bucky shot you a dazzling smile as you tried the blueberry first since that was the berry you were most interested in purchasing today. You didn’t care if it was mortifying, you outright moaned at the flavor when you bit down on the small and plump piece of fruit. Not overly sweet or acidic as the juice coated your tongue. It was the perfect balance. So much that you licked your lips and craved another.

Your eyes honed in on the rise and fall of Bucky’s chest before your gaze flickered to his face. His eyes were darker and you realized after a moment that he was staring at your mouth. A look like that could’ve made you choke on your breath, but it somehow gave you a burst of confidence. Testing the waters, you tried the blackberry next and made a show of licking your lips again at the sweet and succulent taste. The groan he let out shot a burst of heat between your legs.

God, he looked like he was ready to eat you whole.

“Delicious,” you said in a sultry voice you didn't recognize.

“You, um…” He brought a hand up and brushed his thumb along the corner of your mouth. You quivered when he showed you the drop of juice that you missed. Without breaking eye contact, he licked the drop away. It was a look that melted your insides when he said in a gruff tone, “You're right. Delicious.”

“Excuse me?” A woman spoke, making you jump back a bit from Bucky and pulling you both out of the moment. She might as well have dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. “I’d like to buy these.”

Your heart continued to race when you saw disappointment flash in his eyes. “Go ahead,” you smiled. He was there to do a job after all, not chat and flirt with you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky turned his head toward the customer. “Of course, ma’am,” he smiled, still glancing back at you momentarily as if was afraid you’d walk away if he didn’t keep an eye on you.

Biting your lip, you held in a giggle as you tossed the sample cup into the small wastebasket. You swore you felt him gazing at you as you gathered up the bundles. Maybe you didn’t need to bend so far over to get the last bundle, but was it wrong that you wanted him to look? It wasn’t every day that you had a kind, handsome farmer flirting with you. It would have you walking on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

Turning toward the table to pay, you gasped when you nearly collided with Bucky. He managed to grab your arms to keep you from falling and you somehow didn’t drop a single bundle as he stared into your eyes. “You know, I think you’re even sweeter than my berries,” he spoke in a low voice, swiftly taking everything from your hands and lining them in a box before your brain could process what he said. “This everything then?”

“Yeah.” You blinked and got your money out to pay. “Thanks. And keep the change.”

He shook his head when he saw the amount you gave him. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Please. I insist,” you smiled. He took a lot of pride in his work and any extra change could go toward that.

“I’ll keep it on two conditions,” he said, nodding to the box. “One, you let me be a gentleman and help you carry that to your car, that way you’re not stuck carrying it around.”

You nodded, butterflies in your stomach. “Okay, if you insist on being a gentleman.” He was nice enough that he wanted to step away from his stand and carry something for you. He really kept getting better and better. “And the second condition?” You asked with a coy smile. Maybe if you were lucky enough he’d ask for your number.

He reached behind him and presented you with another sample cup. “One more for the road? Please?”

You stamped down your disappointment that he didn’t ask for your number, which was more than okay. “How can I say no to that?” You popped the berries into your mouth without hesitation. They tasted ever sweeter than the first sample you had and you watched his eyes go to your neck as you swallowed. “Thanks. You really do have a gift,” you added to distract you from his heated gaze.

He looked humbled by the compliment. “I really do appreciate that,” he said, glancing over your shoulder to nod at someone. “Steve! You mind watching the stand until I get back? I’m gonna help her carry these to her car.”

You turned just in time to see a gorgeous blonde just as large as Bucky jog over from the stand across the way. “That’s nice of you, jerk. Real gentlemanly,” he smiled, giving you a small nod. “Ma’am.”

“Punk,” Bucky mumbled, but the affection was evident.

Another giggle worked its way out. Where did these men suddenly come from? Was there something in the water you didn’t know about? “You don’t need to call me ma’am, but thank you. And you’re right.” Your eyes went back to Bucky. “He is a gentleman.”

“And this is my cue to get you away from my friend before he says otherwise,” Bucky teased, steering you away with one hand while he balanced your fruit in the other.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him here either.”

“That was one of the friends I was talking about earlier. Has a farm, too, but his real passion is art,” he explained, his arm brushing against yours as he walked close. “He actually helped make my sign since I’m hopeless with that stuff.”

“That’s really nice,” you said, falling into a comfortable silence with him as you both maneuvered your way through the crowd. Once you got to the parking area, you pointed out your vehicle. “I’m just over there.”

Bucky’s gaze flickered over to you as you got your keys out. “I’m really glad you stopped at my stand today.”

Your heart fluttered when you caught the sun shining along his hair. “I’m glad I did, too,” you said softly, unlocking the car so he could set everything inside. Thank God it was clean. That would’ve been embarrassing. “But I should let you get back to work.”

He shifted on his feet, like he wasn’t quite ready to go. “Yeah, I should go.” He stepped forward and took a breath. “But I don’t think I can go back before I ask you to go on a date with me.”

You blinked. This wasn’t a drill. Bucky was asking you out. His tone was so gentle, his gaze so compelling. He was mesmerizing. He could’ve asked you to do anything and you likely would’ve done so without question.

“You want to take me out on a date?” You questioned, your mind screaming that your response was the wrong answer. This wasn’t a fantasy. It was really happening.

With an unsure chuckle, Bucky brushed a hand through his hair. “Too forward?” He smiled a little. “I’m sorry. I just thought that we…”

Your heart reacted to his uncertainty. It took a lot for anyone to put themselves out there and you wanted him to know it was worth the risk. “Not too forward at all, Bucky,” you smiled and placed your hand on his left arm, happy when he smiled back. “I'd love to go out with you.”

He took your hand in his when you went to pull your hand back. “I’m really glad you said yes,” he whispered.

“Me, too,” you sighed at his warm touch. It was the beginning of something special. You could tell. “So, when would you like to go on that date?”

And that is our intro! Now here is where it gets interesting: This story will go down two paths, one light and one dark. Be on the lookout for the continuation and choose your path (or choose both 😏). Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[market-insider]

What Are Natural Fragrances And Flavors | Different Products And Future Opportunity

The global natural flavors and fragrances market size is expected to reach USD 15.83 billion by 2030, registering a CAGR of 6.3% during the forecast period, as per the new report by Grand View Research, Inc. The growth is majorly driven by the increasing awareness about the adverse effects caused by artificial as well as synthetic products used in the cosmetics and food & beverages industry. In addition, the availability of natural products as an alternative is propelling the market growth. Natural flavors & fragrances are now widely accepted by industries like food & beverage, cosmetic & personal care, and pharmaceuticals. The growing population has been increasing the consumption of food & beverages, cosmetic & personal care products, and pharmaceuticals and is likely to further escalate the consumption in the near future. The global industry is anticipated to grow at a steady CAGR over the forecast period due to the presence of major players that are utilizing natural flavors & fragrances in their products.

Gain deeper insights on the market and receive your free copy with TOC now @: Natural Flavors And Fragrances Market Report Companies, such as BASF SE, Blue Pacific Flavours, Inc., BIOLANDES SAS, and Symrise AG, are some major manufacturers. Governments tend to be more flexible in the use of natural products over synthetic counterparts and provide elasticity in their use and consumption for various purposes. The COVID-19 pandemic has resulted in many changes in the industry, such as the collapsed supply chain system and restrictions on transportation. Many large- and small-scale organizations had to shut down their production for several months during the pandemic. This factor slowed down the industry growth and limited production & supply. Furthermore, the outbreak led to the shutdown of hotels, restaurants, retail stores, and eateries, thereby lowering the consumption of natural flavors & fragrances in the food & beverage industry.

[autumngracy]

"Trump is better for the economy, though!"

Aside from almost every major economist agreeing that Trump's economic plans would actually make things far worse than they are now, this man can't even manage his campaign's, his businesses', OR his personal finances.

Case in point, here a list from Public Opinion of his failed business endeavors:

"Trump's companies have filed for bankruptcy at least six times. This is no exaggeration. Digital World noted this in its SEC filings. This excludes additional business failures that might not have declared bankruptcy, but closed owing vendors, employees and others."

"For the record, here are some of Trump's noteworthy business failures."

Trump Airlines — Trump borrowed $245 million to purchase Eastern Air Shuttle. He branded it Trump Airlines. He added gold bathroom fixtures. Two years later Trump could not cover the interest payment on his loan and defaulted.

Trump Beverages — Although Trump touted his water as "one of the purest natural spring waters bottled in the world," it was simply bottled by a third party. Other beverages, including Trump Fire and Trump Power, seem not to have made it to market. And Trump's American Pale Ale died with a trademark withdrawal.

Trump Game — Milton Bradley tried to sell it. As did Hasbro. After investment, the game died and went out of circulation.

Trump Casinos — Trump filed for bankruptcy three times on his casinos, namely the Trump Taj Mahal, the Trump Marina and the Trump Plaza in New Jersey and the Trump Casino in Indiana. Trump avoided debt obligations of $3 billion the first time. Then $1.8 billion the second time. And then after reorganizing, shuffling money and assets, and waiting four years, Trump again declared bankruptcy after missing ongoing interest payments on multi-million dollar bonds. He was finally forced to step down as chairman.

Trump Magazine — Trump Style and Trump World were renamed Trump Magazine to reap advertising dollars from his name recognition. However, Trump Magazine also went out of business.

Trump Mortgage — Trump told CNBC in 2006 that "I think it's a great time to start a mortgage company. … The real-estate market is going to be very strong for a long time to come." Then the real estate market collapsed. Trump had hired E.J. Ridings as CEO of Trump Mortgage and boasted that Ridings had been a "top executive of one of Wall Street's most prestigious investment banks." Turned out Ridings had only six months of experience as a stockbroker. Trump Mortgage closed and never paid a $298,274 judgment it owed a former employee, nor the $3,555 it owed in unpaid taxes.

Trump Steaks — Trump closed Trump Steaks due to a lack of sales while owing Buckhead Beef $715,000.

Trump's Travel Site — GoTrump.com was in business for one year. Failed.

Trumpnet — A telephone communication company that abandoned its trademark.

Trump Tower Tampa — Trump sold his name to the developers and received $2 million. Then the project went belly-up with only $3,500 left in the company. Condo buyers sued Trump for allegedly misleading them. Trump settled and paid as little as $11,115 to buyers who had lost hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Trump University or the Trump Entrepreneur Initiative — Trump staged wealth-building seminars costing up to $34,995 for mentorships that would offer students access to Trump's secrets of success. Instructors turned out to be motivational speakers sometimes with criminal records. Lawsuits and criminal investigations abound.

Trump Vodka — Business failed due to a lack of sales.

Trump Fragrances — Success by Trump, Empire by Trump, and Donald Trump: The Fragrances all failed due to being discontinued, perhaps as a result of few sales.

Trump Mattress — Serta stopped offering a Trump-branded mattress, again likely due to slacking sales.

Truth Social — This existing Trump business owes big money, and may well be breathing its last.

And then of course is his long history of stiffing contractors, restaurants, and even entire cities for their event venues he used for his rallies—as well as some of his own followers—

—such as the case where he promised a greiving hispanic American family that he would pay for the burial of their daughter, Vanessa Guillén, a servicewoman who had been brutally murdered by a fellow soldier at Fort Hood in 2020, but later told his chief of staff not to pay for it after learning it would cost $60,000, reportedly saying "It doesn’t cost 60,000 bucks to bury a fucking Mexican!"

[unsoundedcomic]

Whumptober 2024 - 09 - "Obsession"

Ruckmearkha prefered male spiderpaws because he understood the cock, the hunt, the need to hold a weaker creature down and destroy it so no one else could ever have it again. This was the most correct and natural urge. Some female spiderpaws had this too but it was rare, and strange, and somewhat distasteful to the efheby. They were made to be prey. There were sheep that bit too, but no one laid awake at night fearing their teeth.

Regardless, rarely, Ruckmearkha encountered a woman whose fragrance caused his venom glands to swell taut as ripe hedgeapples, and the scent patch across to chest to weep its coffee-coloured ichor. Sometimes… sometimes they excited.

One night, Ruck was so freshly awakened from the ogre caves that the earth still circled the roots of his tentacles, and crusted like sleep in his bleary eyes. Few dreams blossomed in that long, tarry hibernation. It had been an impression of viscera that had stirred him; of intestines uncurling from a slit stomach. He knew the smell of opened bowels, of fecal stink and the stinks of chewed food and acrid bile that progressed towards it. He'd rolled over and wanted to see those colours and smell that aroma again.

Trailing ogre earth still, he'd come across the crime scene too late. She'd been gone. But the victim remained: a young woman gutted beneath a pier, her insides now outside and the little crabs picking through them like finicky crones fingering melons at the market.

Ruck marvelled at the glistening organs all acrawl with arteries, besotted with blood. He found spiderpaws more beautiful beneath their skin. Clever little constructs, their soft flesh tented across sturdy frames, their most important secrets hidden in ivory cages.

Through a moonless night he'd followed the killer's bloody footprints, burning with a desire to win an aesthete, or at least someone whose soul would be heavy with uncommon traumas. Most spiderpaws were the same, he'd found. They wore identities like the most superficial clothing; the bodies beneath were all of too like a kind.

He did not let this body scream. When he tracked the motion of a woman turning towards him, startled, from a black doorway, he shot forward and upon her with all the weight of a god's judgement. Her bloody knife flew off into the night. His great shoulders splintered the door frame as he crushed her squirming panic to the ground, tentacles gone rigid around her smaller head, her torso, her arms, locking her to him. Two inches of fang punched through her neck. His glands pumped once, twice. The ecstasy of an efheby's purpose thrilled through him, jolting from the back of his tongue to the fire now awakened in his loins.

In an efheby, those loins were like a stag's horns. His prick existed to assert dominance. It rose and penetrated to humble a rival.

But no rival here. Only a curiosity. The most helpless and mewling scream gurgled from her, battling in her throat around the liquid intrusion of golden venom and her own coursing blood. With his huge right hand Ruck sought her mouse heart, massaging it through her back. Beat on, beat on, don't quit yet! It obeyed, a second syringe, dominated by the potent poison of his bite to palpitate in an alien rhythm. She grew slack even as she gasped, but it was not a distressed sound. She was happy! And Ruck was happy - as he had always been happy - that the rodents so seemed to worship and enjoy his attention.

Long starved, the efheby gnawed at her neck and could not stop his overfull glands from pumping again and again, swelling her beyond anything she could survive. Her body filled with him. Her skin puffed and lifted away from her bones. Venom seeped like liquid sunlight from her eyes and nostrils. She glowed burning hot in his hands, vibrating with her own pulse. He loved her in that instant more than-- why, more than he'd loved anything in the last few instants, haha!

Around her his bulk knotted, and they became a single amber muscle of feasting and need and adoration. His scent patch gushed, washing her in sticky ownership. She was claimed. She was his. She would never be anyone else's.

He let her soak. The night watched. An owl hooted far away, hearing the successful hunt. Envious? Haha!

Then Ruckmearkha began to drink his mouse.

Captured by the net of his venom, all the murderess' long years and longer soul hissed between his lips and down his abyssal throat. A prize this young he would drink all in one gulp.

Bitter terror of infancy, sweet nectar of childhood. With adolescence came complexity, and this was always Ruckmearkha's favourite. That first bloom of lust in untried parts; always a disappointment when dulled by shame, but no, no shame here. She had kissed a girl and realised she'd found where she belonged.

Ruck shifted his hold on her. The tentacle securing her head to his mouth dug between her lips, down her throat, but she was beyond feeling; beyond caring. A niggling tickle of blood rolled down his temple but was wiped away by the small hand there. Then it stroked her hair and he told her - secretly, wordlessly, in the whisper only he could whisper - that he would protect her forever.

Because the girl she had loved had not. The girl had been beaten by her father, and was too afraid to run away with her lover to some promised land for which she could show no receipts. Ruckmearkha tasted the rage that had risen in her then, and though it was a very familiar flavour, he radiated approval. Yes. The knife had slashed. And it had not slashed only to kill, but to torment, to open the inside to the outside, to splay open to the night what she had wanted for herself but which she would have to steal because it would never be given.

The body still was alive when Ruck swallowed the last of its secrets. To obscure his bite, he instinctively twisted off its head, threw it far away, slithered repulsed from the mess. Would the rodents say the father had killed his daughter and her demonic friend in order to restore his honour? Were they still doing that?

It would not surprise him!

Always little changes, here and there, every time he awoke. But never too changed. Always, in some way, deeply familiar. And may the simpering motherfuckers remain so, if they valued their future.

[curatedbyondrea]

Create a *Luxurious* Atmosphere at Home on a Budget

Decluttering and deep cleaning are fantastic starting points for creating a luxurious atmosphere on a budget. Here are some ideas:

Declutter for Tranquility:

Focus on Surfaces: Clear surfaces like countertops, tables, and shelves. This creates a sense of calm and allows decorative items to shine.

Embrace Storage Solutions: Invest in stylish baskets, bins, and ottomans with storage compartments to keep clutter at bay.

Elevate Everyday Activities:

Upgrade Your Tea Ritual: Invest in a beautiful teapot and teacups, even if it's just one set for special occasions. Fresh flowers or a sprig of rosemary adds a touch of elegance.

The Power of Scent: Scented candles are great, but explore diffusers with reeds or essential oils for a longer-lasting fragrance.

Luxurious Touches in the Kitchen: Use a beautiful tray for your morning coffee or breakfast. Invest in a stylish soap dispenser and attractive containers for dry goods like coffee beans or flour.

Beyond the Basics:

DIY Decor: Hit thrift stores and flea markets for unique finds. Repurpose old furniture with a fresh coat of paint or new hardware.

Bring in Nature: Houseplants not only purify the air but add a touch of life and serenity.

Warm Lighting: Harsh overhead lighting can feel sterile. Invest in some strategically placed lamps with warm bulbs. String lights or fairy lights can add a touch of magic, especially for evenings.

Classic Touches: Choose neutral tones for walls and large furniture pieces. This creates a timeless foundation you can personalize with pops of color and trendy accents.

Remember, luxury isn't just about expensive things, it's about creating a space that feels inviting, comfortable, and reflects your personality. By focusing on thoughtful touches and creating a serene environment, you can achieve a luxurious atmosphere in your home without breaking the bank.

Want to dive more into this topic? Watch How to bring *luxury* into your life while on a budget

[keplercryptids]

i have chronic migraine and some of my migraine flares are triggered by perfume-y scents. so i have been on a mission lately to use as many scent-free products as possible.

i have had a surprisingly difficult time finding an ACTUALLY scent-free antiperspirant deodorant. there are unscented natural deodorants aplenty, but i live in the south and i need an antiperspirant. many are frustratingly marketed as and labeled "unscented" but then literally have fragrance as one of the ingredients and a strong smell.

anyway, i am here to report that almay sensitive skin clear gel actually, honestly, genuinely smells like nearly nothing. woooo.

another hack is to use salicylic acid 2% as a deodorant. I've been using acne cleansing pads (like stridex, clearasil, etc) on my pits after showering. there's a mild scent but it's not perfume-y and it dissipates quickly, and it's surprisingly effective at managing sweat and odor.

[blackreaderfics]

Hygge | Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ Pairing : Nanami Kento x Tiana

↳ Rating :  T

↳ Summary : Nanami breaks his well cultivated routine 

↳ W.C : 4.4k

↳ A/N: the voices in my head got me y’all… this is a purely self indulgent fic featuring relatable king Nanami (I, too, do not dream of labor✊🏾) and black girlbossqueen Tiana

↳ Tags + Warnings: xenophobia from a side character, fluff, set in Tokyo, next door neighbors, cultural differences, salaryman x cafe owner, they can speak each other’s languages but not fluently

🎵 A Commuter’s Trip (The Commuter OST) by Roque Baños

🎵 Hello Stranger by KAI

Hygge (n.) | Danish

“the feeling of calm, comfort, and contentment evoked by life’s simple joys”

Nanami had a simple routine. Wake up at 6, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast by 7:45 and be out of the door—at the latest—a minute before 8. He had everything calculated to the T. If Nanami had been a minute too late—let’s say 8:01— he would miss the morning train and therefore be late for work, and he was never late. He had taken into account all contingencies i.e. a train delay, traffic, inclement weather, and made sure he was prepared for any and all possibilities.

That’s why, much to his chagrin, he was “Employee of the Month” every month since he had been promoted from associate to advisor. Most workers would’ve taken pride in that, felt their presence valued at their company. But Nanami didn’t care much for awards or titles, in fact, he just hated working period. He made sure to always clock out at 6 p.m. on the dot. One minute more would be overtime and he didn’t want to give his thankless job a second more of his labor. 

When he left work, he always went straight home. When his head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes, thoughts about the next day would drift into his mind. 

Did the market close up or down? What reports did he need to finish? There’s a client meeting coming up; the presentation deck needs to be prepared… Just two more days. Get through two more days and it’s the weekend. 

And so on and so on. Wash rinse repeat. 

He presumed this endless cycle of corporate monotony would continue until the day he turned 40, after which he could retire and live modestly in a country like Malaysia or the Philippines to catch up on all the reading he missed. Perhaps even find a nice woman and marry her while he was there.

The marriage part was new—an afterthought after years of daydreaming—and he didn’t really think much about the kind of woman he wanted to marry. What she looked like or what she did was more of an amorphous thought, a vague idea in his mind. 

Until her.

He met her by accident. Nanami had been cooking, a hobby he only indulged in on the weekends, and he was just in the middle of making a rolled omelet when he heard a loud thump outside his door.

His apartment building was more of an office building which meant that his floor didn’t get much traffic. The people who rented rooms were not really tenants who lived there, but workers looking for an extra workspace.  He had assumed the thump to be a delivery man outside his door so, naturally, he was surprised when it wasn’t the post, but a foreigner woman standing outside the room next door.

The woman had a heavy bag of groceries balanced in the crook of her arm and another by her feet that he presumed had been the source of the sound. When they made eye contact, he had been so startled that he quickly closed his door. The apartment next to his had been empty for months, but it looked like it had finally been rented out. 

He thought nothing more of it until her very presence began to infiltrate his well-maintained routine. Every morning, if he was quiet enough, he could faintly hear her humming as he got dressed. Other times, he could hear upbeat jazzy music on the weekends if he opened his window.

Every night, he was surrounded by the fragrance of whatever she seemed to be cooking. Most of the time it was sweet, other times it was savory. It wasn’t an unpleasant aroma, just noticeable to the point where its absence would feel strange. There were days when they would leave for work at the same time, though oftentimes he would end up holding the elevator door open for her when she left her apartment a few minutes after he did. 

In the brief moments they encountered, Nanami made small observations about her: She was an American. Beautiful. Unmarried—Americans wore rings on their ring finger to signify marital status, he’d noticed she didn’t.

He couldn’t infer her job or what exactly brought her to Tokyo in the first place from her appearance alone, however. He’d seen a fair amount of young foreign teachers in the city. He wondered if she was a teacher. She looked young enough. A missionary? She dressed modestly and wore sensible shoes. Her curly hair was often tied into a low bun. From the very slim list of what young American women did for work in Tokyo, he decided on teacher and his curiosity was sated. 

One day he found out. After a long day of work, he walked his usual route from the train station back to his apartment building but was redirected due to construction at his usual subway exit. When he alighted from the escalator he was on a different street entirely. The extra few minutes from this detour would undoubtedly cut into the time he’d set aside to unwind, and subsequently, he’d have to make a few adjustments to still get a full 8 hours of sleep.

He loosened his tie and sighed inwardly as he walked on. Since he’d moved to this district last year he didn’t make much effort to visit any new places. For all he was concerned, he only really needed to know his route to work and the nearest Starbucks. 

So when he passed by a small cafe called “Tiana’s Place”, it didn’t immediately click that the jazz he’d heard playing softly from her apartment was the same music that was playing now. It was familiar enough that it gave him pause. Where had he heard that song before? When he finally caught sight of her—his neighbor— through the glass window, it finally registered that she wasn’t a teacher or a missionary, but a cafe worker, and from the looks of it, she owned the place. 

He watched her dimples deepen as she interacted with customers, giving each and every one of them a tireless smile. Before he knew it, Nanami found himself inside the cafe whisked into the after-work rush of impatient office workers. She was so busy already, the only indication of strain being a moment when she blew the hair out of her face before the next customer walked up to order. He planned to buy something small and leave; he wanted to give her time to catch her breath but inadvertently in his musings he was already holding up the line. 

She was…right in front of him? And speaking to him now? It was the first time he’d heard her voice and he decided it suited her. She spoke in Japanese and, though accented, was clear and practiced enough in a way that impressed him.

“Are you still deciding, sir?” Impossibly large brown eyes waited in expectation for him to order.

He broke out of his reverie quickly enough to make it seem like his stalling was deliberate, his unmarred poker face further upholding the charade.

He scanned the prepackaged foods and retrieved the first thing that looked like bread. “Just this.” 

“Good choice,” She looked positively elated as she scanned the barcode and activated the card machine. “Beignets are my specialty.” She was beaming at him. Not in a “thank you come again” customer way but like in a he’d just made her entire week way. She was so laughably easy to please that it discomfited him.

He muttered a “thank you”, taking the package and turning to leave quickly before he met her eyes again. The Fall of Icarus was a cautionary tale for a reason, he wouldn’t risk another trip into the sun.

Nanami’s routine had drastically altered over the next few weeks. Every morning he’d gotten used to riding down the elevator with her. They greeted each other regularly, albeit a bit awkwardly, in the shared space—A slight bow from him as he held the doors open, reciprocated by a grateful wave from her.

The last time they shared an elevator, however, they'd accidentally brushed hands while reaching for the ground floor button. For some reason, that unnerved Nanami. So now, most times, he avoided that, opting to wait and listen to the click of her door before he left the house. For good measure, he started taking the stairs. As a result, Nanami had added an extra 10 minutes to his morning commute.

The detour, having yet to be fixed, took him past the café every day. Though Nanami knew the process of waiting in line would add an extra 15 minutes to his after-work trek, he did so anyway, calculating that picking up a quick dinner bento would be a fair trade to taking the time to cook something for himself. 

“What can I get for you today, sir?”  

He knew her name now—Tiana, from the name tag she wore, and the sign on the storefront. He noticed from the way her eyes would widen as he approached, that she recognized him now too.

“Black tea. No sugar, please.” He placed his usual prepackaged meal and packet of beignets on the counter, taking out his wallet. Nanami didn’t always plan to add beignets to every order, but he found himself reaching for them every time, dreading her predictable delight when he did. Ordering tea was another stroke of impulse he didn’t account for, but it wasn’t so busy now, he could enjoy it before he went home.

He decided on a table by the window, savoring the warm liquid as the sun set to a melancholy soundtrack of brass and bass. It was like being transported to another time, outside of crowded subway cars and the hustle of his high-powered office.

Nanami closed his eyes and felt something akin to contentment. When he exhaled, the stiffness in his shoulders abated, and the strain behind his eyes subsided. Was this what it was like to finally relax? 

He was about to take another sip of his drink when he heard a loud bang. The front door to the restaurant had flown open, a bulky man with greasy hair and a lecherous smile stalking in. Nanami’s eyes trailed after the man’s movements, the cup still raised to his lip.

“I’d like a dozen of those powdered donut things. Ya got any of those?” The man leered at the part-timer manning the counter. He sauntered back and forth at the register, eying the self-serve pastries in the display. 

“Sure, would you like them fresh? There aren’t enough ready-made ones for a dozen, but if you’re willing to wait there’s a new batch being made—” 

The man picked up a package of beignets that had been warming under a heated case and without warning, ripped open the package and took a bite.

“S-sir! You need to pay for that first!” The part-timer sputtered.

“Well, I’m waitin’ for that new batch. I wanna try before I buy.” The delinquent guffawed and attempted another gleeful bite only for the pastry to be smacked out of his hand and onto the floor.

He whirled around to face Tiana, bursting into laughter upon seeing her. “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

“Call the police,” Tiana stated calmly to her employee as she stared down the man. Her usual polite smile had been replaced with a stony-faced expression. “Sir, if you’re not going to buy anything then it’s best you leave.”

“Huh? What was that? I can barely understand you, foreign bit-AHh” A pressure on the man’s shoulder made him crumple in pain.

“Your ears must not be working. I can understand her perfectly well,” Nanami murmured, his vice-like grip squeezing at the juncture between the man’s neck and shoulder. While the delinquent whimpered pathetically at the deepening pressure, Nanami directed his attention to Tiana, motioning with a slight tilt of his head for her to step away. “It’s not worth your trouble, I’ll take care of it.” 

She nodded reluctantly and joined her staff member who was now waiting with a phone at her ear behind the counter.

Nanami appeared to be saying something to the man now, but in a volume that Tiana couldn’t hear. His face was calm, betraying no emotion while the delinquent paled gradually in terror, trembling under his grip. The moment Nanami released him, the man scrambled out of his grasp and prostrated himself on all fours.

“I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I PROMISE I WON’T DO IT AGAIN PLEASE—” He shouted hysterically and proceeded to do a fervent bow of penitence. 

Tiana looked at Nanami quizzically but was only met with a mild shrug. 

“Alright alright,” she stepped around the counter to placate him. If he could just stop snotting up the floor she just mopped and get out of there, they could just forget this all happened.

The tinkling bell sound of the cafe door opening interrupted the scene; everyone’s attention shifted from the blubbering man on the floor to the police officer who had just stepped in. 

Before anyone could speak, the man sprang up from the ground and ran toward the policeman. “OFFICER! IT'S ALL MY FAULT I ADMIT IT! ARREST ME, PLEASE! JUST GET ME OUT OF HERE!”

Within 10 minutes the offender was cuffed—willingly, to the cop’s surprise— and whisked noisily out of the cafe just as quickly as he’d burst in. Nanami, suddenly uninterested in the commotion, walked calmly back to his table and gathered his things. 

Tiana made her way over to Nanami, eyeing the man through the window. He was currently being escorted to a police car on the curb. Still in hysterics, he’d practically thrown himself into the back of the car.

“Ok…what on earth did you say to that man?” She quirked an eyebrow at the blonde businessman.

That this cafe is his one and only oasis in the heaping pile of shit called life, and if even so much as one insignificant waste of air like him tries to ruin it he’ll have no choice but to chop his fingers off one by one and shove them down his throat so hard he’ll be shitting fingernails for weeks…among other things.

It would’ve been improper to divulge this to Tiana, of course.

“I asked him to apologize,” he said instead in simple English, a far cry from the eloquently horrific threats he’d made in his native language. 

“Really?” She asked, accepting the sudden change of language in stride. Her arms were crossed, her hip jutted to the side, face incredulous. “Just like that?”

“I’m rather persuasive.”

After a beat she laughed. 

Nanami didn’t consider himself a funny person. And frankly, he didn’t understand why she was laughing now but he welcomed it, if only to see that the earlier disturbance hadn’t caused her too much distress.

“Well, thank you kindly,” she drawled in between giggles, her southern accent now unmistakable when she switched to English. “Mister…” 

“Kento.” He offered his first name, aware he was skipping over several customary stages of familiarity. In any other case, anyone less than an acquaintance addressing him by his first name would be extremely frowned upon. But it was common business practice to use given names when dealing with American clients; he thought it fitting to do the same with her.

He reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a silver business card holder, and passed over an impressive looking card: 

Nanami Kento, Investment Advisor

“If there are any similar issues please don’t hesitate to contact me.” He repeated an English phrase that had come in handy from past business dealings.

“Mr. Kento,” she repeated to herself with finality studying the card. Tiana faintly wondered why a guy with a fancy title—and the most expensive suits she’d ever laid eyes on— lived in the modest one-room apartment right next to hers. She pocketed the card and patted around for her own business card. 

“I would’ve given you my own card too. But if you ever need to contact me—”

“Boss!” Her part-timer called out, waving her over from where she stood next to a police officer holding a clipboard.

“I’d better go, you know where to find me.” She excused herself with an apologetic smile.

Unfortunately for Nanami, this little ordeal had cost him another hour of wasted time.

The next day Nanami waited for the familiar click of her door shutting before starting his commute. When he exited his apartment, he could still see the silhouette of her back walking towards the elevator bank. 

She left without an umbrella, he noted to himself as he walked part of the way down the hallway. He imagined walking up to her and bringing it up casually as they waited for the elevator. But as soon as she’d turned his direction he changed course abruptly, legs moving on their own through the emergency exit and down the stairs.

Work went on as usual. He sat at his desk going over the pitch deck, but his eyes could not seem to follow the text. Instead, he found himself gazing out the window, watching the clouds slowly darken in the horizon. 

“Fucking weather, right? News said it’s gonna rain like a bitch the next few days.”

His boss had walked up behind him, crouching at his eye level to see what Nanami was looking at. 

“Hope you brought your galoshes, rookie, we’re going overtime today for that big client meeting. Dinner’s on me.” His boss clapped a hand on his shoulder and went off to bother a different team.

He tried to return his attention to his work, but he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes against the blue light of his computer screen. All he could think about was the rain.

Tiana had hoped that by the time she closed, the rain would’ve stopped. But she found herself outside the doors of the cafe, reluctant to leave. The rain hadn’t let up, and it didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon.

It was a day of disappointments. On top of forgetting her umbrella, Nanami hadn’t come into the shop that day. She’d gotten used to seeing him enter the store at the same time every day, and perhaps even looked forward to it. 

She took one tentative step outside, shivering through the draft of wind. She didn’t live far, maybe it would be alright if she just ran home with a plastic bag over her head. Tiana locked the door behind her and raised the collar of her jacket, clasping it with her hand to protect her neck. On the count of three, she lifted the plastic takeout bag over her head and took the plunge.

After a few strides in the pelting rain, it suddenly stopped—She had run into something or someone. The rain made it difficult to see where she was going so she blindly sputtered a reflexive “I’m so sorry!” in English at whoever it was that she had run into.

When she wiped the rain out of her eyes she could see nothing but an impeccably tailored pinstripe suit in the dim of the streetlights. It was Nanami and he was holding an umbrella over her head. His collar was unbuttoned without a tie, and he looked utterly exhausted. The dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced from where she stood underneath him.

“Mr. Kento? Are you alright? What are you—”

“I figured you could use an umbrella,” he said dryly and pretty pointedly at her makeshift plastic bag hat.

“Yea, I guess I could use one of those,” she laughed breathlessly and took the bag off her head, before giving him one of those heart-stopping smiles he loathed. “You saved my life.*”

The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, amused. Perhaps because her choice of words sounded highly literal, almost…cute?, in Japanese. He “saved her life” just by sharing his umbrella? Americans were known to have a penchant for the dramatic. But he didn’t bother to correct her, instead, he only hummed somewhat of an affirmative response.

They walked in a comfortable silence down a familiar tree-lined path leading to their apartment building. She noticed Nanami’s shoulder getting wet, and leaned closer to him. 

Feeling the imperceptible shift, he gave the woman beside him a sidelong glance. His eyes settled on the loose wisp of hair he’d always seen her blowing out of her face.

It bothered him.

Maybe it was the fatigue-driven delirium, but he was struck with the inane compulsion to brush that lock out of her eyes. He couldn’t have been more grateful for the umbrella currently occupying his hand, otherwise, he would’ve indulged it.

Tiana reached over and gently adjusted the umbrella closer over his side. “Wouldn’t want to ruin that nice suit of yours,” she said softly.

“I hate this suit.” The curt statement came off a bit more brusque than he’d initially intended, though, it was true. He hated that suit and everything it represented.

She looked at him curiously, wondering if this was another aspect of his humor. But from what she could see on his countenance, he was entirely serious. 

He glanced at her again, catching the confused look on her face. “I don’t mind if it gets wet,” he reiterated this time with the intended lack of severity, along with a kind of finality that implied an end to the discussion of his suit and his decision to prioritize her dryness. They continued the rest of the way, the umbrella above them biased towards her side.

When they got to the apartment he held the building door open, letting her walk through first. 

“Thank you again for yesterday. That man, he was—” she paused to conjure the correct word.

“He was being a nuisance,” he completed, pushing the button for the elevator door. Naturally, he had chosen the same number for their floors, and when they arrived at their floor he waited for her to alight before walking after her.

When they finally reached their neighboring doors, he set his umbrella on the hallway floor for it to dry and began to punch in the code for his door. 

“Mr. Kento, wait a moment.”

He stilled his movement and watched as she rummaged into her purse. 

Tiana pulled out a paper box from her bag and presented it to him, “I was going to give these to you earlier if you came in. Glad they didn’t get wet.”

It was a small gesture. Even so, he was reluctant to take it.

“You… didn’t have to,” he frowned, eyeing the box.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, either,” she shrugged. 

“We’re neighbors. We were going in the same direction,” he said plainly, though, he didn’t entirely believe the words as they left his mouth either. It was unlike him to go anywhere else except straight home after working overtime. He hadn’t run into her by some coincidence or divine guidance. He’d gone there on purpose, and he had a sinking feeling she figured that out already too.

“Then just think of it as a ‘thank you gift’,” she insisted, tugging gently at his wrist and nudging the box softly into his hands. “For being my favorite customer.”

He shifted uncomfortably to receive the box with both hands. It was an unfamiliar concept for him to be anyone’s favorite anything.

“Good night, Mr. Kento.” Tiana’s voice had an amused lilt to it. Nanami must’ve stood there frozen because she was already halfway through her door, a knowing smile on her lips.

He regained his composure and mumbled back a formal “Good night, Miss. Tiana,” —her name a bit alien on his tongue—before retreating back inside.

When the door shut behind him, he immediately shed his suit jacket. His body was much too warm despite one side being wet; his collar much too tight, despite his lack of tie.

Nanami stared at the assortment of pastries that Tiana had given to him. He couldn’t recall the last time he willingly ate dessert though he assumed if he had, it would’ve probably been with Gojo and his infantile palate.

Truthfully, Nanami didn’t really like sweets at all. The first time he bought those beignets, he’d just picked up the first thing in line that day and just…never stopped buying it. Over the past weeks, he’d amassed a bevy of unopened bags of the foreign confection and they were occupying the much-needed counter space of his kitchen. 

It was rather ironic for an investment advisor to be so frivolous with his money. Spending on foods he didn’t even eat when was supposed to be saving it didn’t make any sort of financial sense. He had been planning to retire by 40, and now he’d have to add an extra 5 years to his projections over mere fried dough.

Nanami turned over the yellow business card for “Tiana’s Place” that he had found wedged in the box. A simple “Bon Appétit ;) -T.” was written on the back.

He picked up a beignet from the box and took a bite—It was made for him, after all. He chewed it slowly, the consistency not too far off from that of a baguette. It wasn’t too sweet, either. In fact, it was…delicious? Better than any dessert he’s had before. Maybe everything he’d tried before this was just a crude imitation, a poor excuse for the craft of baking. 

Perhaps he did like sweets or even dessert right before bed. Maybe he didn’t even mind that he wouldn’t be getting his full 8 hours of sleep. If he concentrated hard enough, her faint humming as she got ready for bed filled the silence of his apartment. He could stay up even longer if at all possible.

When he finally closed his eyes, a rush of different kinds of thoughts flooded his mind. 

Some were more mundane: Maybe I’ll have a beignet for breakfast or It’s probably going to rain tomorrow. 

Some were imaginations: plump glossy lips curved in an oversweet smile meant solely for him. His fingers gently tucking that bothersome tendril of hair behind her ear. 

He finally drifted to sleep with one last thought just as simple as the others, a tiny hope that she would forget her umbrella again.

*A/N: Tiana’s words sound like a literal translation/unnatural because she’s a non-native speaker ex. “you saved my life” vs a more natural/colloquial “you’re a lifesaver”

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

[s6523]

[artemisia-black]

Trick or treat! Here is a question for you: on perfumes and colognes in the wizarding world. How do you think they would be made as opposed to muggle varieties? Do you think that witches and wizards could make their own, and/or charm them to work certain ways? Happy Halloween :)

Happy Halloween anon 👻

Oh my god, the way this question made me squeal (legit hyperfixations colliding).

So I actually have so many thoughts on this. Since wizards diverged from Muggles in the 16th century, there could be some key differences in their perfumery.

First off, the way we gender fragrances wouldn’t really make sense in the Wizarding World; they’d just blend notes without any thought of “masculine” or “feminine.” Gendered scents are actually a modern marketing ploy, basically invented so we’d spend more on one kind of perfume over another. Wizards wouldn’t be following that at all, so you’d have this amazing variety of complex, mixed fragrances—no one gatekeeping sandalwood or rose, just everyone smelling like they’ve rolled around in an apothecary.

Also, their scents could still lean heavily into ingredients people used in the 16th century (a sort of frozen in time vibe). In that period, rosewater was huge—it was everywhere, used for everything from washing to scenting clothes, faces, hands, you name it. There’d also be lots of herbs like rosemary, lavender, sage, and thyme, as well as musk and ambergris, which gave perfumes a rich, earthy depth. I’d imagine their basic scents would carry those notes, with a more organic, almost homemade vibe compared to modern Muggle perfumes (sort of like lush perfumes or essential oil blends).

Also wizards could rely on natural distillation and magical processes. Modern perfumes use heat-based extractions and synthetics to amp up and stabilise scents, but wizards might use cold extraction methods or potions techniques to preserve the ingredients’ original essence. Without synthetic stabilisers, they’d probably use natural oils or waxes as carriers. The result might be perfumes that are simpler in structure but layered with the complex, unfiltered qualities of the original ingredients,

To add magic, they’d have endless possibilities. You could layer protective charms right into the fragrance (I imagine death eaters doing this), charm it to shift depending on the occasion, or even let it change subtly depending on who’s around to smell it (sort of like Amortnentia). Or it might change based on the vibe the wearer is going for so you could smell like butterbeer one minute or parchment the next .

I also wonder what magical ingredients would add. I’d guess some might create notes we don’t even have in the Muggle world. For examples dragon’s blood could add this warm, smoky depth. Crushed bezoar might help with protection and give a musky base. Venomous tentacula could give it a spicy kick, and maybe flobberworm mucus acts as a fixative without altering the scent. Or Acromantula silk to help with longevity.

And honestly, I’d love to see wizarding fragrance influencers. You know Lockhart would be out there selling “Gilderoy’s Alluring Essence” from his bed at St. Mungo’s.

[ezekiel-krishna]

🏃‍♂️ Your Next Adventure

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Have you had any memorable adventures in 2023?

Pick the image that resonates with you the most. If you feel drawn to more than one image, embrace the diversity and embrace them all!

Pile 1

I see you embarking on a weekend getaway to the countryside. Packed with essentials like a map, snacks, and a camera to capture the beauty around, you set off on to your journey. While travelling along the winding country roads, You couldn't help but be amazed by the vast expanse of green fields and towering trees that stretched out before you. The air was so crisp and clean, a refreshing change from the pollution of the city. You happily sang along to your favorite songs on the phone.

Upon reaching the destination, a charming bed and breakfast nestled in the heart of the countryside, Greeted by the innkeeper's warm and welcoming nature. Settling into your cozy room with delighting floral curtains and the breathtaking view of rolling hills in the distance.

As you set out to hike along a nearby trail, ready to explore the unknown. The fragrance of wildflowers, and the cheerful birdsong accompanied you every step of the way. Pausing for a moment, you couldn't help but admire the crystal-clear and inviting waters of a babbling brook. Continuing your journey, you stumbled upon a hidden meadow, adorned with a riot of vibrant and colorful blooms.

As the sun gracefully descended, casting a stunning palette of pink and gold across the sky, You discovered a secluded spot to settle and contemplate. Surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of nature, you experienced a profound sense of peace and contentment. It was in that very moment that you realized the true value of slowing down, of immersing yourself in the simple pleasures that life has to offer.

As you walked back to the inn, your heart brimming with joy and your spirit revitalized. You realized that your time in the countryside had truly changed you for the better. As you fell asleep, listening to the soothing rustle of leaves outside the window, feeling thankful for the chance to temporarily escape into the peaceful arms of nature.

Pile 2

I catch sight of you taking a solo trip to a foreign land. You meticulously planned your journey, learned about local customs, and loaded your bags with necessities. With a mix of excitement and nervousness, you boarded the plane and set off to explore a new territory. As you arrived in the new country, you were immediately captivated by the vibrant colors, bustling streets, and the melodic chatter of an unfamiliar language.

With a sense of awe, you explored the lively city, indulging in exotic cuisine, immersing yourself in the local customs, and forming new friendships along the way. As you ventured into the countryside, You marveled at the awe-inspiring landscapes, from majestic mountains to tranquil lakes. You visited ancient places, and witnessed traditional ceremonies/cultures that left you in awe. Throughout your journey, You faced challenges and moments of uncertainty, but you confronted them with bravery and an open mind.

You learned to communicate through gestures and smiles, navigate unfamiliar streets, and embracing the unknown with curiosity. By the end of the trip, You not only discovered a new country but also found a newfound sense of independence, resilience, and appreciation for the world's diversity. As you boarded the plane back home, you carried cherished memories of a transformative adventure that had enriched your life beyond imagination.

Pile 3

You made a bold decision to explore a vibrant city for the very first time. Upon arrival, you was enveloped by the hustle and bustle of the urban landscape, with its sea of people, diverse cultures, and towering skyscrapers. You meandered through the bustling streets, admiring the array of faces, languages, and cultures that enveloped you. You strolled through lively markets, where the aroma of exotic spices wafted through the air and vendors beckoned to passersby. Visiting museums, art galleries, and historical landmarks, each providing a glimpse into the city's rich past and bright present.

Despite the constant commotion of the city, You managed to find moments of serenity in peaceful parks and tucked-away alleyways. Standing on a rooftop terrace, you marveled at the sunrise, the cityscape unfolding like a magnificent work of art. In that precise moment, filled with a profound sense of awe and curiosity, realizing the limitless possibilities that lay within the city's grasp. 

With a ticket in hand, you stepped onto the train that would transport you back to your quaint hometown, reflecting back the memories of an extraordinary urban escapade. The city with its buzzing energy, organized chaos, and breathtaking beauty, leaving an everlasting impression. Being well aware of the time you spent exploring its streets and uncovering its mysteries that would forever hold a special place in your heart. As the train chugged away, gazing back at the city's skyline, with a smile adorning face, and a deep sense of gratitude resonating within for the unforgettable adventure you had just lived.

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[gepardling]

market day w/ gepard.

desc. : Something small that someone suggested i write. Going to a market day with your loverboy gepard :) (wc : 600 )

tags / cw : sfw, just fluff, doing shopping with geppie !! not proofread

○ It’s a market day !!

○ And you’re going with Gepard !!!!

○ Waaayyy more exciting than your usual grocery shopping, okay? I mean, Geppie can’t usually join you on those trips because he’s working when u have to buy stuff :(( but it’s okay, he always leaves you a list of things to buy and some money if he doesn’t get to see you beforehand 

○ This particular market day is special, hosted in celebration of the end of the stellaron crisis on Jarilo-VI. Many of the soldiers could actually return home to their families for a quick reprieve

○ Gepard gets the day off to partake in the festivities, which is absolutely HUGE given how he's normally busy and you don't get to spend much time together outside of home… Naturally, your face immediately lights up at the news that he's joining you ♥︎

○ The market is quite different from something you’d expect of Belobog. There’s a million different colors and scents lingering about the air, and the chatter of visitors bustling around is much livelier than usual.

○ You spend the day dragging Gepard around by his arm, visiting every stall and trying almost ALL the food available. Your lover merely let you tug him about as you please, he was content just watching the way your expression changed from mild curiosity to morbid surprise when you tried a dish that was a little too sour for your liking ♥︎ 

○ He might be a little too generous as well (Captain’s salary?) and almost ends up buying you one of everything that you lay your eyes upon. Though he did practice some self-restraint, urging that you “really don’t need it” when you brought him to the 15th perfume stall there.

○ You also have a habit of making him smell soaps with you, trying to discern which fragrance is superior before you end up taking all of them anyway.

○ After you parade him around for a while, Gepard starts to emerge from his shell and takes you to see things that catch his fancy too. He spends a lot of time around the botanist, in particular, as well as various candle merchants and fresh produce stalls. 

○ Listen – I'd like to think that Gepard is fond of candles. You know, lighting a few up at the end of a long day, just relaxing in their gentle glow. I don't think it's something he'd be vocal about, and it's definitely a habit he learned from someone else. But it's cute nonetheless :(( ♥︎ Bonus if the candles are scented

○ You probably end up leaving the market with too much to carry – soaps, perfume, house plants, candles, food… While the day was fun, seeing how you overspent makes you wonder how you're gonna make space for all these new things in your home :((

○ But it doesn't matter !! Geppie always makes a plan. And to be honest, this market was super beneficial for the both of you (maybe more practical for him than for you, seeing as he actually bought groceries too)

○ He ends up carrying almost all the goods too, cuz he insists he’ll hold it so you don’t have to :(( He’s such a gentleman, almost to a fault... the most you can do is fret over him but even then he denies your help... so stubborn !!

○ One bad placement almost sends the pile of parcels to the ground ! But luckily Gepard is quick on his feet and manages to prevent anything from dropping.

○ His face is burning at the slight blunder but at least he lets you carry some of the stuff now to help him out ♥︎ when you two get home it's an absolute relief that everything is still in one piece

u guys know those craft markets,,, yeah,,,,, i had 2 thumbsuck sum reason for there 2 b one but u know what !! i can do what i want. market day.

[caintooth]

perfume, cologne, fragrance and scented products in general are about to be EVERYWHERE in marketing and the beauty / self care / luxury industries i think

their product descriptions, ad campaigns, and fans and customers (myself included!) place so much weight on the idea of “wearing” an emotion, using scent as a way to craft personal identity, to help you embody extremely specific feelings— which i get from both a personal and marketing standpoint. it’s so intimate, it’s about crafting a specific sense of self which is immediately recognizable to all around you, and they don’t even have to look at you to pick up on it! it’s ephemeral storytelling which you carry around on your very being! it’s so… fantastical and mystical feeling! like a magical glamour! while also being SO grounded in the physicality of the world, one of our most honest and difficult to ignore senses, an instinct to smell and be smelled which is such a basic animal impulse… idk i do love it, i am guilty despite my critiques of the industry! because it is also industry. from the marketing perspective, obviously, this crafting of selfhood moment to moment, ever-adaptable and easy as purchasing a new product, is something our generation is soooo obsessed with rn. see: microtrends, -cores, aesthetics, hyper-specific “types of girls”, etc! tiktok is already hitting me with so many perfume ads and i know it’s going to be even more widespread very soon

there’s also something about like… the pandemic + wearing masks + the profound and undeniable human relationship to scent which i find slightly more difficult to articulate! i still wear a mask and believe it is a social, political, and public health necessity for everyone else to wear one, too. but i also do get, like i said, the raw desire for scent. it is a sense so linked to human memory, human daily life, human connection, eroticism, etc. and many people who are the primary consumers of perfume and other scented items have obviously, even if only subconsciously, felt extremely deprived of that the past several years. we have been so literally chemically sterilized of all smell.

in other words, we are yearning for the palette of the world— and perfume allows us to capture it, to hold it as close as our own skin, to bring it inside of us. to literally bottle, sell, and possess the essence of the natural resources our corporations are destroying, the natural world which we feel increasingly severed and isolated from… just a thought, for next time you see a perfume ad, or pick out a new scent for your bathroom hand soap.

[lilacskiesapothecary]

“…Milk Bath…”

Nanami x You

Nanami's perceptive nature allowed him to notice the subtle changes in your demeanor. He observed the lines of fatigue etched on your face and the weariness in your eyes.

He found himself strolling through the bustling market streets, Nanami's keen eye caught sight of the exact ingredients that he needed. There, he carefully selected the finest lavender buds and vibrant citrus fruits, envisioning the perfect blend for a luxurious milk bath.

Once back home Nanami got to work.

With a determined expression, Nanami carefully gathered ingredients for the bath. He selected fragrant lavender and fresh citrus, knowing that their combined scents would create a calming and uplifting atmosphere. As he prepared the bath, he poured in lavender and squeezed a few drops of citrus juice, infusing the milk with his own healing properties.

Once everything was ready, Nanami gently guided you to the bathroom, ensuring your comfort every step of the way. He dimmed the lights, lit some candles. The soothing ambiance instantly enveloped the room, creating a serene oasis. Nanami helped you undress giving you soft kisses on your shoulders and collar bone. Then undressing himself to join you.

With a caring smile, Nanami encouraged you to step into the warm, fragrant bath. As you two settled in, the tension began to melt away. The lavender's calming aroma embraced them, while the citrus revitalized your senses, lifting your spirits. Nanami held you close in the bath , offering a comforting presence and a listening ear. Gently rubbing your shoulders, breaking down every worry you had.

As you soaked in the rejuvenating bath, Nanami watched with satisfaction, knowing that he had helped you find a moment of peace amidst the chaos in your mind.

After the bath, Nanami provided a fluffy towel and a cozy robe, ensuring your comfort even after they emerged from the milk bath. He led you to the couch where he had warm blankets laid out for you. Nanami sitting down on the couch and outstretched his arm to you, wanting you close. The fragrance of the bath still lingered on your skin and it was driving him up the wall.

You fell into his embrace, both of you finding solace in each other embrace, not wanting to disrupt the comfortable positions you two have created. Nanami rubbed circles into your back as you started to drift off to sleep. Holding you close and drinking in your fragrance, Nanami kissed your forehead and found himself at overwhelming peace. With you.

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