#fragrant essence

[nukascent]

Experience the Essence of Zanzibar: Introducing Nuka Scent Store's Zanzibar Breeze

Welcome to Nuka Scent Store, where we believe in capturing the essence of exotic locales and bottling them up for you to experience wherever you go. Our latest creation, Zanzibar Breeze, invites you on a sensory journey to the enchanting island of Zanzibar, where the air is filled with the aroma of spices, the warmth of the sun, and the refreshing breeze from the Indian Ocean.

Zanzibar, known for its rich history, vibrant culture, and stunning natural beauty, has long been a source of inspiration for artists, poets, and travelers alike. Now, with Zanzibar Breeze, you can bring a piece of this paradise into your home.

Imagine yourself strolling through the bustling markets of Stone Town, where the scent of cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon fills the air. Zanzibar Breeze captures the spicy, aromatic notes of these beloved spices, transporting you to the heart of the island's culinary scene.

As you wander along the pristine beaches, you'll feel the gentle caress of the ocean breeze on your skin. Our fragrance blends subtle hints of sea salt and coconut, evoking the sensation of sand between your toes and the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

But Zanzibar is more than just spices and beaches; it's a place of mystery and intrigue, where ancient traditions merge with modern influences. With Zanzibar Breeze, we've captured the essence of this cultural melting pot, infusing our fragrance with hints of exotic florals, earthy patchouli, and warm amber.

Whether you're longing for a tropical escape or simply looking to add a touch of adventure to your everyday life, Zanzibar Breeze is the perfect scent to transport you to distant shores. Each bottle is crafted with care using the finest ingredients, ensuring a long-lasting and memorable olfactory experience.

So why wait? Embark on a journey to Zanzibar today with Nuka Scent Store's Zanzibar Breeze. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and let the intoxicating aroma transport you to a world of sun, sea, and spice.

Experience the essence of Zanzibar with Nuka Scent Store. Your adventure awaits.

[kannaujheaven]

Exploring Tobacco Perfume Notes: From Sweet and Earthy to Smoky and Spicy

Uncovering Tobacco Perfume Essence

Immerse yourself in the enchanting world of fragrances with Kannauj Heaven's exquisite collection. Experience the heavenly scents that evoke emotions and memories, transcending time and space. Discover your signature scent today!

Check out our website for a variety of special fragrance collections that are one-of-a-kind.

Discovering the Aromas of Tobacco Perfume

The scent of tobacco is captured in tobacco perfume, which represents the long and meaningful history of smoking. 

This type of perfume is made from the leaves of Nicotiana tabacum and Nicotiana rustica plants.

 Throughout the centuries, the appeal of tobacco in fragrances has not waned, as its alluring and intricate scent continues to captivate those who wear it.

The Sweet and Earthy Essence of Tobacco:

Tobacco fragrance emanates a sweet and earthy essence that brings to mind tobacco fields basking in the sun and fertile soil.

The scent begins with a burst of sweetness, blending creamy vanilla, decadent cocoa, and caramelized sugar to create a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

Alongside this sweetness are earthy undertones that conjure up images of rolling hills and verdant landscapes, anchoring the fragrance in the bounty of nature.

Exploring the Smoky Nuances of Tobacco:

The smoky tones gradually unfold, interlacing to form a rich and fascinating aroma. 

As if carried by the smoke rising from a blazing hearth, these fragrances take you to the cozy nights spent with dear ones, enveloped in warm and comforting companionship.

The scents of burnt wood, roasted nuts, and soft leather blend together to produce an inviting and recognizable experience, encouraging reflection and friendship.

Exploring the Bold Flavors of Tobacco: 

Aromatic spices ignite the senses with their intense fragrance, creating a rich and layered experience. Cinnamon, clove, and pepper infuse tobacco scents with a subtle warmth and zesty kick, enriching its complexity and allure. 

Learn more: Tobacco in Fragrance: A Journey Through Scents and Sensations

Navigating the Scent Palette of Tobacco Perfume

Tobacco Perfume: An Enduring Elixir of Class: 

The seamless blend of sweet, earthy, smoky, and spicy fragrances makes tobacco perfume a timeless elixir of sophistication and refinement.

Discover the Enchantment of Tobacco Perfume: 

Take a sensory voyage and plunge into the enchantment of tobacco perfume, where every note narrates a story of allure and sophistication. 

Introducing Tobacco Perfume into Your Daily Routine:

Enhance your daily routine with tobacco perfume to your fragrance collection. Embrace the captivating scent that will uplift your mood and elevate your aura. 

Apply to pulse points for optimal effect and revel in the lingering aroma as it transforms throughout the day, adapting seamlessly to any environment or occasion.

Embarking on a Fragrant Journey with Tobacco Perfume

The fragrance of tobacco perfume is an ageless fascination that exudes sophistication and charisma in each scent. Starting with a mix of sweet and earthy tones and ending with smoky and spicy undertones, it provides an unmatched sensory adventure. Allow yourself to be enchanted by the captivating aroma of tobacco perfume and be transported to a world of grace and refinement.

If you are looking to explore a variety of fragrances that evoke emotions and memories, Kannauj Heaven is the perfect destination. Delight in the heavenly fragrances they have to offer and discover your ideal scent today.

[smilewidritz]

ASIAN RECIPE

Asian recipes are renowned for their diverse flavors, vibrant colors, and rich cultural heritage. From the fragrant curries of India to the delicate sushi of Japan, Asian cuisine offers a delightful array of tastes that captivate the senses. The use of fresh herbs, spices, and a harmonious blend of sweet, sour, salty, and umami flavors defines the essence of Asian cooking. Each region boasts its unique culinary traditions, with staple ingredients like rice, noodles, and tofu taking center stage in many dishes.

[aria0fgold]

Mmmy mom gave me a chocolate that was given to her by hher brother and she was like: This doesn't taste really good. It's all just Sweet. and in my head I'm like: Why. But my desire to try out new things won over me so I took a small bite and aaauugghhh... OOOOOHHHH STARS it-- iiit-- iiiit's REALLY Bad. The inside had strawberry flavoured something but STARS it's-- It's... augh... The funniest thing is that when my mom said: "Oh! There's strawberry? inside this" Vita, who was in the Cabins, ran to the front cuz Strawberry and now we both got hit with The Worst Taste Ever.

[thinemoonshine]

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊; 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘

immortal!enhypen x mortal!female reader content(s): college setting, vampire enhypen, human reader, enhypen has an unhealthy fixation towards reader, mature and dark themes, warnings will be specified at each chapter type: mini series (6 parts)

red strings tangled beyond repair, the solution being to return to the hand they are tethered to. but things prove to be more painful—more excruciating than any they’ve ever felt. even for immortals who deem pain as merely a child’s game.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

ℌeeseung rushes through the woods, undead heart pounding rapidly, vehement and erratic—much more than it ever has when he was alive. Prickly thorns and branches graze and cut through his porcelain skin, leaving bleeding wounds that seal themselves almost as instant as they were made.

“She’s here. She’s back,” his whispery voice is carried by the wind as he continues his relentless pursuit to find her. The one they have been waiting for so long—decades, centuries and millennials. Eternity.

𝔍ongseong huffs, breaths heavy as he tails close behind—not of exhaustion, but of fierce desperation—and his chest heaves while he wears a pained countenance. The everlasting yearn that burgeoned throughout his years of living whilst dead pouring from his very being—showing through the reddening rims of his eyes and the whites of his curled knuckles.

A grunt rips through 𝔖unghoon’s throat as the bottom of his trouser gets caught by a thick branch. He clicks his tongue, irritated, and haphazardly retracts his leg—the fabric tearing with a loud, clear sound. But he’s mindless of it, much too occupied with seeing her. Finally. The mere idea of it brings a clarity to his mind, quietening his incessant, intrusive thoughts and a hopeful smile makes its way to his face.

His surroundings that typically appeared bleak and grey slowly regain their significance and colours and he inhales the earthy essence—the moist, healthy soils, fragrant blooming flora and even the faint scent of sweet nectar and honey.

The world feels beautiful once more.

“I can’t believe it! After all this time!” 𝔍aeyun exclaims, excitement buzzing through his veins and raising goosebumps on his skin as the adrenaline builds. His pearly whites are displayed from his unrestrained ear-to-ear grin despite his feverish stunts.

Hopping from one tree to another and landing with a spin onto his feet—continuing his sprint briefly before retuning to his jumpy behaviour. He’s overflowing with pure delight, eyes sparkling incandescently as he seizes his lip between his teeth.

𝔖unoo giggles joyously, eyes upturned into crescents as he plays a game of chase with 𝔍ungwon. The moment they felt her presence, an indescribable sense of merriment flooded them, washing away their never ending misery. Their withered hearts that were once weighty with doubt regarding her return now beating with anticipation and conviction.

“Catch me if you can~” Sunoo challenges and Won’s grin broadens, dimples deepening and eyes glaring with determination as he hastens his steps—eliciting a shriek from the older.

Their laughter resound within the woods and as if celebrating alongside them, the birds chirp and sing in an optimistic tune while warm sunlight shines against wet leaves and puddles. Small, faint streaks of colours emerging around them and casting a beautiful glow.

A picturesque scene right out of a film.

Lagging behind is ℜiki who’s still astonished and yet, skeptical. Why now? After all this time, why now? Could they be wrong? Maybe they had all mistakenly think it was her. It’s not an impossible thought considering how it’s been…forever since their last moment with her. Their instincts might be rusty.

But he knows. Truthfully, he knows that they can never be mistaken. No one sets their souls alive like she does.

And admittedly, he too knows that his denial stems from fear. The fear that she may arrive and fleet away just as abruptly. And once again, he will be abandoned, left to wallow in his own self-pity and desolation for years and centuries to come. The gap in his chest widening more and more with her absence.

His teeth grit and jaw tightens at the already torturous thought. He swallows dryly, dreading the possibility but a sudden tug within his ribs, the sudden lightness he feels and the lack of emptiness inside—

A gasp escapes as he snaps his head up, facing the front to see his brothers all decelerating as they approach the exit of the forest they’ve caged themselves in where across is a human town. Wasting days, months, years away inside their sumptuous mansion with their plentiful riches just to be overcome by the sense of vanity.

Their attentions are transfixed by the bright light that awaits them—the end to their painful yet, wilful confinement and they glow. They are radiant, spirits flourishing and… alive.

“She’s here,” Riki mutters under his breath, voice cracking as eyes brim with tears.

The seven figures emerge between the tall trees like creatures of myth—dangerously enthralling and breathtakingly beautiful—with their steps slow yet determined.

But they are forced to a halt as great, extravagant forms of red and orange greet them obtrusively—dancing flamboyantly on their faces and frozen frames as their senses that were previously dulled by her overpowering being begin to sharpen.

While the feeling of her begins to blur.

They can finally hear the deafening wails and shrieks as the choking scent of thick smoke infiltrates their noses and fogs their vision with layer after layer of soot. Sirens of ambulance and firefighters are blaring while crowds of people are frantically running from the burning resident, screaming for help.

And amidst all this chaos lies one girl quietly at the side of the street, tranquil, with her head against the plush green grass, a hand beside her head and the other resting on her stomach as if taking a siesta—if only her dress wasn’t dyed crimson by her own blood, face isn’t dusted with gray from the remains of debris and the torment that reveals itself from the marks of drying tears.

The seven appear beside her. Heeseung and Jay dropping to their knees as Sunghoon stands paralyzed yet shoulders tremble violently at his shaky breaths. Jake’s teeth sink deep into his lower lip, drawing blood as he tries and fails to muffle his wails—heavy tears brimming his eyes and flowing down his reddened cheeks like a storm.

Jungwon gulps, a sharp pain stabbing through his throat at his pitiful attempt to swallow his grief but the burn in his eyes betray him as he too ends up sobbing and shivering as he struggles to stand. Hands and sleeves wiping his face repetitively as his cries heighten.

Sunoo’s emotions are unvarnished, bare and loud as he screams in agony and wrath. Everything is unfair. He doesn’t want this— no, he CAN’T. His palms grate against the scattered debris and they stab and dig through his skin mercilessly yet, he’s unfeeling.

Even as his blood drips and paints the vibrant green with red, he remains… drowned in his anguish. Ears once again muffled as he can only hear his previous doubts taunting him, ridiculing him and shattering him more than he already is.

And Riki… he kneels beside her inert body, staring with clouded eyes as he slowly lifts his large hand onto hers and it quivers slightly as it nears. The moment they touch, her foreign, cold temperature makes his eyes well up and thick salty globules seep into her dress—his body bending lower and lower until his forehead rests against her still stomach.

Whimpers and silents gasps of her name escape past his lips like a spell, as if it will resurrect her and this continues until Sunghoon approaches to cautiously, slowly lift her limp body into his taut arms.

Although wordless, the others understand perfectly—feebly rising to their feet as they trail behind him who makes his way back into the woods. The panic instilled in others make for perfect distraction and they disappear from the public once more.

Sunghoon strides grimly through the tall, mighty trees—breaking whatever branch that obstructs his path with his inhuman strength, trampling every vivid flora that burdens his track and disregarding anything and everything else.

He sees only vanity. Nothing worth his attention.

He lays her on a slightly raised white stone dais with beautiful intricate engravings on each of its four sides—fresh flowers, spirals and crystals adorning its plainness.

The seven figures encircle her, silent and deeply scarred by the abrupt tempestuous of emotions that they experienced that are powerful enough to make them feel nauseated—wanting to vomit their insides and ruin whatever remnants of their humanity, all there are that enable them to still feel and hurt.

But simultaneously, they wish to remember it all, to keep themselves sentient so they can once again relish in the joy and miracle that is her. The one who they’ve sworn to guard and have surrendered themselves to. This singular wish manages to keep them sane albeit hanging by a thread and they watch with heavy eyes as Jake nears the dais.

His hand lifts, palm to the sky as a gentle flame appears—movements irregular as it grows larger and larger before it stills into a steady fire.

With a deep exhale, he says, “Until we meet again.”

(those pink bolded cannot be tagged) taglist for this series is open—send an ask or comment below to be added ♡

@codyl-angdon @in-somnias-world @randomanothercreature @m1kkso @immelissaaa @starfallia @suhwife @neozon3nha @dcllsinna @soobinslittlewatermelon @haozyth @tunafishyfishylike @riribelle @loumin908 @jungtothewon @ineedheewoninmylife @tnafzi @nanazuly @blakedanie @theiarosa @blackrosieva @miamoari @heesbbygurl @stercul1a

[mangooes]

Skincares and A Touch

Sylus Qin was a man feared by many.

A powerful criminal mafia lord boss, draped in wealth and authority, known for his ruthless efficiency and cold demeanor toward those who wronged him. He was a man who could make everything crumble with a mere flick of his fingers.

And yet—

Here he was.

Standing in the middle of a skincare aisle.

A very pink, very fragrant skincare aisle.

Dressed in his usual all-black attire—leather jacket, gloves tucked into his hand, a long black pants, a watch worth more than the store itself—he stuck out like a sore thumb among the pastel shelves of moisturizers, serums, and face masks.

The sales assistant, a young woman barely holding back a squeak, hesitantly approached him, trembling.

"Uh… sir? Can I help you find something?"

Sylus didn’t even hesitate. "My wife uses this brand," he said, pointing at a neatly arranged set of glass bottles. "Which ones are new?"

The saleswoman blinked. "Um… does your wife have a specific preference?"

Sylus didn’t miss a beat. "She likes the datura-scented overnight mask but only uses it twice a week. The rose tea essence serum is a must, but she doesn’t like the lavender one because it’s too strong. She prefers gel moisturizers over cream-based ones, and if you’re out of the honey lip balm, I need a similar alternative—preferably with natural ingredients."

A beat of silence.

The saleswoman just stared.

The other customers in the store also stared, wondering who on philos would marry such a scary looking man?

Sylus arched a brow. "Well?"

"…Sir, are you a dermatologist?"

"No," he said flatly, picking up a pack of under-eye masks. "I’m just a very devoted husband."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Sylus got home, the smell of lemon tarts and fresh baked scallops greeted him—his sweet wife, (Name), lazily strolling through the kitchen in one of his oversized shirts, flipping through her sizzling pan.

She glanced up as Sylus walked in, helmet in hand, a small bag of purchases in the other.

Her brows lifted. "Ah welcome home Sysy!...What’s that?"

Sylus smirked, tossing the bag onto the kitchen counter. "Your favorites." As he leaned against it admiring his wife from the distance.

She perked up, leaving the now half baked scallops on the pan, peeking inside—only to find her exact preferred brands, neatly arranged in the bag. Her very specific products, some of which were even hard to find.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Sylus… did you just go out and buy me skincare?"

"I do it all the time," he said casually, shrugging off his jacket, hanging it before walking towards her "I like to keep my wife looking radiant."

She gawked at him, then turned back towards the now baked scallops on the pan. "I never even told you what I use."

Sylus smirked. "Sweetie, I memorized the way you sigh when something smells too strong. You think I wouldn’t memorize your skincare routine?"

He strides closer, both hands wrapped around her imidietly, as he snuggled inhaling the sweet scent of his wife and his favourite dish.

"Mhmm, i smell baked scallops...how romantic of you, kitten."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere husband, this is your favourite after all, do you think i would forget?"

Sylus lets out an amused laughed, he leans in to capture a kiss on the lips, as a reward.

She giggles in respond, enjoying the affection that is centered towards her, then she blinked. "Remembering my skin care details...that's, oddly romantic don't you think?"

"I’m an attentive husband sweetie, you wound me."

She huffed a laugh, shaking her head, her hand leaving the pan handle for a moment to hold her husband's much more larger hand, intertwining it.

"Alright, alright, My sweet Attentive Husband. Since you memorize my skincare so much, let’s put it to good use later."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that was how Sylus Qin, feared criminal mafia lord boss, ruler of an Onychinus, a man who had taken lives without blinking—

Found himself lying on their shared bed, a white facemask plastered onto his eye skin.

She giggled beside him, applying serum to his face with gentle strokes. "You have really good skin for someone who never does this," she mused. "I swear, it’s unfair."

Sylus, eyes closed, let out a pleased hum. "It’s because my wife keeps touching me all the time. I absorb your glow."

She snorted. "That’s not how skincare works, Sysy."

"It is if I say it is."

She laughed, trailing her fingers over his cheek, smoothing the mask in place. He looked so content, his usual sharp, dangerous demeanour completely replaced with lazy, pampered bliss.

(Name) grinned, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You, my love, are the most ridiculous husband in existence."

Sylus smirked, cracking open one crimson eye. "And yet, you’re the one putting skincare on me."

"Because I love you."

His smirk softened, fingers reaching to lazily trail over her wrist. "And that, sweetie, is exactly why I let you touch me so freely."

In every world and every life, no one else could reach him—no one but his beloved, the only one who could touch him, tease him, challenge him, and claim his heart in every lifetime.

ANOTHERR MAGNUM OPUS INSPIRED CHAPTERRR i love magnum opus so sos os ososo much guys help its concerning, i'll publish the inlaws fic tmrw because i need to revise sum *sigh

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I'm trying to work on my 'show don't tell' but struggle with describing smells when tackling senses. Do you have any smelly word resources? :)

Some Words to Describe Smell

Acrid - strong, biting (e.g., something on fire)

Ambrosial - fragrant; having a pleasant smell

Antiseptic - a clean scent

Aromatic - having a strong or distinctive smell

Aura - smell surrounding something

Balm - soothing scent

Bouquet - blend of floral scents

Briny - salty

Burnt - unpleasant, smoky, sharp scent

Clean - very light scent, clean and natural

Earthy - recently dug or tilled soil

Essence - basic, natural scent

Fetid - decaying or rotting smell

Fishy - smelling of fish; pungent, strong, unpleasant

Flowery - fragrance similar to flowers

Foul - being odorous and impure

Fragrant - things, such as flowers or spices, with sweet or agreeable odors

Fresh - natural smelling, rather than artificial

Gamy - having the flavor of game; smelly

Gaseous - a chemical odorant, similar to the smell of rotten eggs

Heady - very strong aroma

Lemony - tart, piquant citrus notes

Lilac - rich floral scent combining rose with vanilla

Mildewed - soaked in wetness that has gone stale

Minty - menthol-like smell

Misty - mild fragrance, not overpowering

Moldy - damp, fungus-like odor

Musty - damp, earthy, or stale odor

Odorous - emitting a scent that has a strong distinctive smell whether pleasant or unpleasant

Overpowering - too strong of a smell

Perfumed - artificial fragrance, not natural-smelling

Pheromone - natural scents

Piney - crisp, refreshing evergreen smell

Piquant - pleasantly pungent, sharp, or spicy taste

Plastic - artificial chemical polymer odor

Pungent - strong fragrance

Putrid - stench of decay

Rancid - spoiled; food that has gone bad

Reeking - a strong or disagreeable fume or odor

Rotten - spoiled, rancid, unpalatable

Scented - having a perfumed smell

Sharp - a strong scent

Skunky - noxious smell that lingers; sulfuric (like rotten eggs) odor

Smoky - scent of burning wood

Spoiled - an unpleasant, rotten smell

Stagnant - a stale smell

Stench - stink; a characteristic repugnant quality

Sterile - a sense of cleanliness; the scent of cleaning products

Sweet - sugary smell

Tart - sharp fragrance

Tempting - having an appeal; enticing

Trace - a tiny amount of fragrance

Whiff - a fleeting scent

Wispy - hint of fragrance in the air

Woodsy - characteristic or suggestive of woods; forest-like smell

Olfactory imagery engages the sense of smell. Scent is one of the most direct triggers of memory and emotion, but can be difficult to write about. Since taste and smell are so closely linked, you’ll sometimes find the same words (such as “sweet”) used to describe both. Simile is common in olfactory imagery, because it allows writers to compare a particular scent to common smells like dirt, grass, manure, or roses.

The above are excerpts from this previous post & added definitions from Merriam-Webster and YourDictionary. More related posts you might find useful:

Some Perfumery Vocabulary

100 Sensory Words ⚜ Word Alternatives: Olfactory

Writing Notes: Fragrance ⚜ Scent ⚜ Fragrance Notes

More: Notes & References ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

All the best in your search for the right smelly words in your writing :)

[vixenofthemist]

THINGS THAT MAKE ME EMO IN CURRENT TIMELINE AFTER TEARS OF ROMIRRO (loosely coherent, spoilers ahead)

Rafayel kisses MC with such fervor. Desperate, some could say, like he treats everyone like it's their last

He also has a tendency of pinning her wrists when they kiss (so he can control what her hands are doing, perhaps? So she can not yeet out a dagger?) Before he relaxes and gets lost in the moment)

Rafayel never lets MC keep him tied up, does he : ) He always has a way of freeing himself, now

The last loving thing (in his eyes) Bride!MC did was hold his face, and now his obsession with her hands makes soooo much sense

The statue in his house that looks like Bride!MC.... the one he caresses on the title screen... o w

Since current Raf is probably a fresh reincarnation after dying in Fragrant Dream, there had to be a point where he remembered his past life sometime after meeting MC as kids. I think about that a lot,,, how it must have affected him

Adding to that, his stalkerness before the story makes SO much sense bc how do you even process all the past memories?? The sense of devotion and betrayal in equal parts, fighting inside him if he should even get close to her again bc what if she does it all over again?? She already HAS hurt him in this life, making him wait and wait and never coming back to him. But he CAN'T ignore her existence, his very essence is bonded to her... obviously the solution to this is become a professor at her university and then never interact with her /sarcastic. so he can catch a whiff of her scent on the breeze, hear her laugh from outside a window, know she's alive and well while being 0 part of her life

AWAY FROM THAT ANGST THO I wonder if Raymond died via the curse that Bride!MC had??

Also need more Raf taking care of sick MC it was very cute

Can't believe we got confirmation that Your Fragrance happened bc there is just a smell that makes Lemurians horny, and MC happened to put THAT one by complete accident aksjs

Speaking of the Fragrant memories, I totally think Rafayel used the same kind of potion that Harkness (forget his name, the bad guy in Tears of Romirro) used to make MC relieve her most recent past life in Fragrant Dream (Follower!MC for Bride and Abyssal!Witch for current) ... Lemurians have all sorts of smell based spells don't they aksjsj

Okay im rambling now so I'll stop but I'll leave with hoping we get Raf giving MC a scale for protection in a main story branch

[heavenly-fae]

devotion p2

armand x reader

warnings | smut, afab! reader, dom! armand, oral (fem), hypnosis (kinda sorta), blood drinking (im sorry i had too), praise, creampie

a/n | HEY EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so so sorry for disappearing for a minute but i basically forced myself to finish this fic since i felt like it needed a p2 so feast my children. i wanted to finish it sooner so i would be able to post it on halloween but writers block fucked me sideways. enjoy as always <3 crossposted on my ao3

part 1 here <3

your mind was still hazy from your orgasm, you briefly feel armand shift behind you and settle in between your legs. 

lowering himself, armand placed a trail of kisses over your tummy, letting his tongue sneak out from time to time. he held your gaze, and you, still in the afterglow of pleasure, couldn’t look away. his golden eyes were so tender and mellow, capturing yours in a trance.

he resumed his kisses over your belly, his hands gripped both your thighs to spread them wide apart. he rubbed soothing circles on your thighs with his thumbs, his lips whispering sweet words of praise and encouragement against the sensitive skin.

“you’re being so good for me, beloved..” his voice was sweet honey pouring into your ears, it left tingles all over your skin. his kisses lowered from your navel towards your core in a torturous pace, savoring every contact his lips had with your supple skin. 

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and there he was again, you swore you heard him inside your head. too dazed to even ask him how he’s doing you instead nod dumbly at his question. he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right?

“good, good…” he positioned himself in between your thighs, not at your core just yet but instead he placed kisses upon your thigh. starting at the crevice where your thigh met your cunt, he trailed soft kisses up. you sighed, quivering under his touch. 

his gaze met yours once again, “i promise this won’t hurt…” he whispered. you opened your mouth to speak before he unhinged his jaw, a perfect set of fangs almost suddenly appeared and then disappeared once they sank into the flesh of your thigh. 

you gasped, throwing your head back in pain, but it lasted only a second before a wave of bliss went through you, a high from him sucking the blood from your thigh. for a moment you thought he was going to kill you.

“a—armand—“ 

he continued to drink from you as you watched his pupils expand as he tasted your blood. he unattached himself from your thigh, your blood soaking his mouth, dripping onto the sheets. you felt lost in a haze. “my love, you taste divine…” he mumbled, lapping at the blood leaking from the punctures he left, seemingly having a soothing effect on the wounds. 

“armand…wh-what are y-“

“shh, beloved. don’t speak. don’t think…”

he was in your head again. what the fuck was happening? armand continued to press soothing kisses on your thigh. alarm bells were going off in your head but you couldn’t help but stay still for him. far too entranced by the angelic man in between your legs.

“let me take care of you…”

and like a puppet pulled by his strings, you begged him, begged him to please you. he pulled away just a little to admire the sight in front of him. his golden eyes were now fixated on your core. the rich and fragrant scent of your arousal filled his nostrils and made him almost light-headed.

reaching out with the tip of a finger, he lightly prodded at the small pearl crowning your core and lowering at your entrance, eliciting a cry out of you.

armand observed fascinated by how your body reacted to his barely there touch, your cunt crying at his touch and coating the tip of his finger. you were sopping wet already, your sweet nectar already leaving small stains on his bedsheets.

taking his digit, he lifted it to his face and watched for a moment how it glistened with your essence coating it. his piercing eyes locking with your as his tongue rolled out of his mouth, sensually licking your nectar off his finger. 

“oh, beloved…”

you let out a loud gasp as his lips and tongue made contact with your cunt. he started slow, teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue before moving his lips to your clit, suckling gently on it and then starting his pattern again.

then he’s eating into you, lips and tongue and edges of teeth devouring you like the lion to the lamb. your eyes clench shut so hard that you see stars in the blackness. 

his lips close around your clit and he sucks on it it, ravenous, your slick was so enticing for armand, just like your blood, he started feeling drunk of it. he soon picked up his pace, drinking from you desperately, eating you with such care and need just like when he was drinking from you.

“a-ahh armand—please-!” you struggled trying to form coherent words. you squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, your hands searching for something, anything, to hold onto and ground you to reality. both of them ended latching to his black locks of hair, your mind torn between pushing him away in fear for your life, or pulling him even closer to keep him pleasuring you.

It was too much, and at the same time, it wasn’t enough.

your hips rolled instinctively into his greedy mouth, your legs shaking uncontrollably, giving him no choice but to hold onto your thighs with a deadly grip, effectively pinning you down onto his mattress and leaving you with no chance to move away from him.

the entire room felt like it was spinning, filled with your wanton cries and the dirty slurping sounds coming from armands mouth, as well as his constant moans of satisfaction. your back arched constantly, and you kept whining his name like a desperate prayer for mercy. mercy you wouldn’t receive from him anytime soon.

your hands couldn’t stay still in a single place, soon they had left his hair to instead grab onto the bedsheets or the pillow supporting your head. you lowered one hand to look for something else to hold onto for dear life, when it suddenly found one of his. 

instinctively, you both laced your fingers together, chasing your peak. your grip to his hand tightened as you felt yourself slipping over the edge. armand must sense that your climax is dawning on you so quickly, too quickly for his liking, because he slides from your body and he leaves a parting kiss on your cunt. he stared at you, looking like a wild, hungry animal, there was only a small golden ring left in dilated eyes.

“i—i need you to cum on my cock..”

your chest rises and falls in shaking breaths. the sight of him between your parted legs, his beautiful mouth stained with your slick pulling into a gentle smirk that makes your cunt ache as well as strike a deep fear in you. 

"would you enjoy that, beloved?" he purrs the question. you swallow thickly as you try to collect your thoughts. your mind reels with the whiplash of having been so close to your breaking point and then suddenly back to total lack of stimulation. 

and as if the words were pulled out of you “yes, please armand—i need you…” you watch him push up to sit on his knees.

he towers over you with zero effort, all slender and sinewy and spectral. he unbuckles his pants and pulls out the evidence of his carnality as it lays heavy and hard against his leg, the slit leaking slightly on his tan flesh. 

you felt dizzy nearly drooling at the view presented before you speak again. "i-i want you to fuck me, please—please make me yours armand, i wanna—“ you gasp see his cock throb at your words and he leans in closer, pushing your knees farther apart. armand presses an incendiary kiss to your lips to put an end to your begging.

you gasp brokenly against his mouth as the head pushes into you. its girth splits you cleanly and the overload of sensation has you clutching onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands into his hair.

"shh-shh my love, shh-shh..." he hushes you, his whispers coming out with a tremor as he hilts fully inside you. being this close, you can smell the metallic sweetness of your own fluids on his chilled breath. his hips roll gently to bottom out. 

the both of you sit panting for a moment before he begins to push back and forth in rhythm. his pace is slow and easy, and he drinks in the sounds you make under him. 

"taking me so—so well, love...” croons, and his tone gives away just how much he aches for you. the swing of his hips brings breathless sounds and trembly sighs from you and you can tell he's feasting on the chorus you're giving up so generously. 

"you will be mine forever." he murmurs, lips against your neck, feeling your sweet blood rushing through your veins. "you know that, yes? whose you belong to and whose you are?"

"i’m yours-" your reply is a rushed tumble and you cant your hips upwards to catch his thrusts at a better angle. in a blur, light bursts behind your eyes and you sing delightfully with it. "i’m yours!"

armand almost whimpers at your words while driving his hips into your soft willing body. his mouth is almost like hellfire against your flesh, branding you so that only he can have you. he’s resisting the urge to sink his fangs into your throat, yet the whole time he's whispering and chanting in your mind that you belong to him and him alone. 

heat flashes hot and white through your whole being as you're suddenly wracked with your orgasm. it like dying, like flying, like being tossed end over end as he slams into you through your climax.

he’s gripping you close like he's scared you'll vanish suddenly, rutting into you like an animal as he chases the delicious pulsing warmth of your walls. he can feel you clutching him as well, blunt nails digging into his back and hand tangled in his dark hair.

your name is like poetry on his tongue, twisted into art by ecstasy and prayer, as he finally spills his seed deep in your core, so searing that you could believe instead that it's actually freezing. his hips rock to a stop.

he stays above you, panting with you in the heady aftershocks that leave sparks in the corners of your visions.

armand shifts to kiss you, in which you can taste yourself on him in a way that leaves you whining into his mouth, and leans up all the way. he is so wickedly beautiful in the moonlight.

"will you stay…?" he breathes the words, voice and low and inviting. louis flashes in his mind for a moment, not for long as he watches you tiredly smile as he slides from you. you're not sure why but, you tell him what he wants to hear.

“i’ll stay, armand”

[thedarksilkpen]

Not A City Bear

Halsin has some anxieties about being surrounded by so much stone, cold and unfeeling. Luckily, the easiest way to get back to nature can be found in your arms.

i didn't do a word count for this one, and if there's any typos i'm sorry lol. tldr it's wednesday and i'm a recovering catholic. enjoy some heretical and blasphemous smut, i guess? and an excuse to use some of my favourite words.

NSFW Below

Halsin x Tav (female reader)

--

The city gnaws at him.

It’s in the way Halsin hesitates on the threshold, broad shoulders brushing the doorframe as he ducks through it, face drawn tight as if the cobblestones outside have worn down his ease. His eyes, so often rich with the warmth of forest glades and soft birdsong, are sharp now, restless. You see it immediately-- the tension in his jaw, the subtle twitch of his fingers as he unclasps his cloak.

His face is clean and smooth, scrubbed of the evidence of the road and the long nights of travel. Gone is the dirt under his fingernails and the smell of earth and grass from his tunic, replaced by some soft fragrant perfume that smells foreign on the tall elf. Halsin's eyes scan your face, flitting back and forth between the walls and you, his jumpiness evident.

He doesn’t speak. He just comes to you.

Large hands find your waist before you can ask if he’s alright, and he buries his face in your neck, breath hot and uneven, staggered with the depth of his sudden anxiety. You feel him inhale deeply with a shudder, like he’s trying to breathe in everything you are. His cheeks rub gently against your skin, and the sigh that leaves him is heavy and relieved.

“The city is... too much,” he murmurs against your collarbone, voice roughened by strain. “Stone everywhere. No wind. No soil. I needed…” You can feel his hand against your back as he clutches at you, trying to find the words.

His lips brush your throat as he attempts to speak. Once. Then again. Slower.

“…you,” he finishes simply, weakly.

You thread your fingers through the strands of thick hair at the nape of his neck, grounding him the way only you can. “Then take what you need.”

That’s all it takes. Halsin lifts you as if you weigh nothing, lips finding yours with a hunger that’s quiet but immense-- like roots spreading beneath the surface he flows into you, the essence of him, masculine and heady. He doesn’t throw you to the bed. He lowers you to it with reverence, like you're something sacred, the very culmination of mother Earth and soul-- a being born of love and to love.

His hands are gentle, but they're not shy.

They know your curves, your textures, the sounds you make when he slides his palm up your thigh and brushes the edge of your underclothes. Halsin knows that your breath will come sharply when he presses you just there and when he kisses you just here. Every movement is unhurried, but no less demanding.

His touch coaxes, not commands.

His tongue explores, not delves.

Halsin peels you apart delicately under his calloused but gentle hands, folding you open for him with a touch that feels like worship, and when your thighs part, the sound that leaves him is a wordless catechesis.

“I feel more alive,” he whispers, mouth against your breast as he frees it with a grasping and clumsy paw, “when I’m inside you.”

And gods, he proves it.

His tongue is slow, teasing. His hands cradle your hips as if they’re delicate stems and blooming in the space where the meet, beautiful and rosy. When he pushes into you, it's like a prayer—long, aching strokes that make your back arch and your breath catch. Halsin buries himself fully, pressing his forehead to yours as he rocks into you with the the fervor of fresh spring.

The bed creaks softly, muffled by the thick walls and distant city din. Here, in this quiet room, you give him the wilderness he craves. The nature of beast and man. He pants your name into your mouth as he moves deeper, slower, hips grinding as if trying to become part of you.

“You’re my forest,” he groans, voice cracking like a rock slide. “My earth. My peace.”

You wrap your legs around him and pull him in, again and again, until the pressure mounts between you both like summer thunder. The sounds of skin on skin feel loud in the small room and you whimper under him, hips rocking in tandem with his to force him deeper. You tremble first, helpless under his touch, and he follows, moaning low in his throat, holding you as if the city will tear him apart if he lets go.

When it’s over, he stays inside you, still pulsing, still breathing your scent in like he might lose it the moment he leaves. One large hand cups your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone as if he's memorizing the shape of you.

“I can face the stone again tomorrow,” Halsin says, lips soft against your temple. “As long as I have this. You. A place to return to.”

And just like that, you anchor him, the druid, warrior, lover; he's tamed not by chains, but by the promise of your hands.

[22ayla21]

Hello, for your "Sweet Stories, Intoxicating Feelings" Event, may I request Chocolate Cake and Hot Chocolate with Malleus Draconia, please?

"Chocolate Cake and Hot Chocolate"

Event: "Sweet Stories, Intoxicating Feelings"

Malleus sat in his favorite armchair in the castle library, bathed in the soft light streaming from the window and caressing the spines of the books on the shelves. Silence enveloped him, broken only by the quiet breathing of his young son, asleep in a cradle nearby, and the rustling of pages beneath his fingers. In this cozy sanctuary, the anxieties and the burden of responsibility that usually weighed upon him from his people dissolved. Now, only one thing mattered — his family.

He closed his eyes, and the memory of meeting her, the Queen of the Briar Valley, his beloved, flashed in his mind with the same clarity as on that very day. The warmth and light that had filled his soul then felt almost physical now.

Love… The word echoed within him with deep contemplation. His thoughts, like delicate threads, stretched in different directions but invariably wove together into her image.

Love seemed to him like a rich chocolate cake. He vividly recalled the time they sat together in one of the castle halls, enjoying this delicacy, and his gaze followed with admiration as her lips touched the small spoon, taking a bite of the chocolate bliss. The taste that lingered on her lips seemed the embodiment of everything he felt beside her. The richness of her smile, the depth of her gaze, the tenderness of her touch — everything was as multifaceted and intoxicating as that cake, where each layer revealed new facets of pleasure.

"Chocolate, like love," he thought. Just as thick, dark, and deep. At first, it seems like just sweetness, but the deeper you delve, the more this taste captures all your senses, making you forget everything else in the world. And like this cake, love was multi-layered — every moment with her was a unique piece of happiness that could never be erased from memory.

He opened his eyes and saw his queen, thoughtfully gazing out the window. Soft golden light played in her hair, and her face radiated peace and serenity. In such moments, Malleus felt completely safe, as if the whole world existed only for the two of them. She was his chocolate, his sweet and rich cake. And he understood that he could never be satiated by her. Every minute spent together only intensified this desire. She had become the very essence of his existence.

Suddenly, a desire to prolong this feeling of sweetness overcame him, and he decided to treat himself to a cup of hot chocolate. Malleus turned to the fireplace, where logs crackled merrily, took his favorite mug, and filled it with the thick, fragrant drink. He allowed himself to dissolve in this moment, feeling the warmth spread through his body, warming not only his flesh but also his soul, giving him a sense of comfort and security.

He closed his eyes, savoring the enveloping warmth, as if love itself filled his heart. Like hot chocolate, her love warmed him in the coldest of times. When the outside world seemed cruel and full of anxieties, all he needed was her presence, her warm gaze, her gentle voice. It was like a sip of a warming drink on endless cold nights, which receded only in her tender embrace.

Malleus felt his heart beat faster as he looked at her again. But it wasn't just the feeling of love, but also the realization that she was his anchor, his warmth, his inexhaustible source of support. Beside her, he feared neither the cold nor loneliness. She was his hot chocolate, which he drank in greedy gulps and which warmed his soul in any situation.

At that moment, their son stirred quietly in the cradle, and Malleus, without taking his eyes off his wife, felt a small hand reach out to him. He rose and went to the crib, gently taking the baby in his arms. His son nestled his face against his chest, falling asleep again, and Malleus, looking back at his wife, understood that his love for her, like exquisite chocolate, only grew deeper and richer with each passing moment. And although their son was still very small, he already felt this love, this strength and warmth emanating from their little family.

"He will feel this love too when he grows up," Malleus thought, and his gaze slid back to his wife, whose face, turned towards them, radiated tenderness. She too felt the warming feeling of love spreading within her, and Malleus knew that his feelings for her would never fade. Like this chocolate, love was not only sweet but also bittersweet, deep, giving comfort and joy, asking nothing in return.

He approached her, and she smiled softly, sensing his nearness. Malleus gently kissed her forehead, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, affectionately stroking his back.

Their world was filled with this warming feeling, which was more precious than all royal titles and responsibilities. It was love, like chocolate — eternal, warm, rich, and incomparably sweet.

[j4jml]

“Seeing you heals me.” - Rumi

The Healing 16/06/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain

[sillyhanako]

╭╯﹒pipo pipo electric sound ！！﹕

🍮﹒⪩⪨ ﹕dates scenarios with the bluck lock boys!

🍮﹒⪩⪨ ﹕STARRING : yukimiya kenyu, bachira meguru and alexis ness ♡ fluff!

🍮꒱﹒a/n﹒one of my best works! Im really proud of this one. Lmk if you want a second part >< contains smau in kenyu and bachira parts and contains soft launches in them all

ー﹕m.list﹐

୨୧ ㆍ  yukimiya kenyu

Today was one of Yukimiya's rare days off. He had just finished modeling for a big hit magazine, and his manager insisted that he take a day off to reward his hard work.

and how would he spend it? With his lover, of course! Lately, you both have been struggling to make time for each other, each busy with work or school. But today was conveniently a beautiful sunny day where everything just felt right—the breeze was gentle and the air fragrant with spring flowers. Yukimiya decided that this was the perfect moment for a sweet date.

At three thirty he knocked on your door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. You were surprised, and Yukimiya could barely see your face, not because of his blindness, but because of how big the bouquet was.

"You didn't have to..! ," you said with joy, unable to contain your excitement and gratitude. "I missed you," he replied softly, placing his gifts on the table and embracing you tightly, as if trying to merge your bodies.

You helped him take off his jacket and handed him a cup of water, engaging in casual conversation to relax after the ride.

"speaking of TikTok, I saw this cute little trend. Look!" You exclaimed, showing him a video of two couples painting each other's t-shirts and a blank dinosaur clay figure.

"I think we should definitely do that. I have spare t-shirts, and instead of clay figures, we can order tote bags. Are you in?" You looked at him with anticipation.

"Yeah sure why not? Should we make matching ones?" "Oh good idea! Ill get the fabric paint hold on-"

after digging for a good 30 minutes in house you finally got what you needed on your living room's table. You laid out your plain canvas bags and soft, white t-shirts like a blank canvas ready to receive your wildest ideas. As you started painting, yukimiya leaned over, his shoulder brushing against yours. “What do you think we should make first?” he asked, his voice playful, and your heart did that little flip it always did around him. You suggested matching sanrio designs— you chose Kiki and LaLa . “Perfect-!” he replied, already splattering some paint onto his shirt in excitement, totally unbothered by the mess you were about to create. You recommended using a starting sketch, so you pulled out your phones getting a clear picture of your character.

Time flew by as you discussed everything varrying from your favorite sanrio products to your dream travel destinations, each topic punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful shoving and thus losing sense of time and making way too many 'masterpieces' . You both decided that every little imperfection you painted was just part of the charm.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with soft hues of pink and orange, you stepped back to admire your creations. They weren’t just tote bags and t-shirts; they were memories smeared with laughter and love. You felt so grateful to have Yuki by your side—someone to share these memories with and made everyone one of them memorable.

“Okay, you know what we should do next? we should to model them!” you declared, striking a silly pose, and it was impossible not to giggle at how silly you looked. You put your new creations on, proudly showcasing your masterpieces, and snapped a few selfies, capturing the essence of the day.

kenyuki our beautiful mess <3 @.ynthediva

bachicha BRO ACTUALLY PULLS?????➜kenyuki Shut yo skin tone chicken bone google chrome no flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome genome full nlown monochrome student loan indiana jones overgrown flintstone x and y hormone friend zoned sylvester stallone fsierra leone autozone professionally seen silver patrone headass tf up ➜ynthediva CLOCKED. ➜ryu__shid GAGGED.

slursagi yall look lowk cute 😕 ➜ynthediva thanks 😙 ➜ynthediva WHAT IS THAT USERNAME ➜slursagi STOP IT WAS A DARE ➜ynthediva by who 😭 ➜slursagi that bitchless kurona.

karasuhq one slip up is all i need.. ➜kenyuki blocked. ➜hiyo_yo bro is like a dragon guarding his treasure 😭 pipe down ➜ninin._ninja talking like you pull any 💀😰 ➜hiyo_yo you failed 5th grade. ➜ninin._ninja im sorry sir

୨୧ ㆍ  bachira meguru

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the buildings as you stood outside the cinema, glancing at your watch, waiting for someone to show up. The flickering neon lights of the theater were a perfect backdrop for one of your favorite dates with your boyfriend bachira. Your heart raced with excitement as you wished for him to speed up just a little bit.

Just as you were about to check your phone, you heard his signature laugh—bright and infectious. Turning around, there he was, a ball of energy with his messy bee coloured hair and those big brown eyes that youve grown to love.

He zoomed toward you like he’d just spotted a prize in a carnival game, and before you knew it, he had looped an arm around your shoulders squeezing you in a hug.

“Hey! Ready for the movie?” he beamed, his enthusiasm almost tangible.

“Absolutely!” you replied, bouncing slightly on your toes trying to match his seemingly endless energy, seriously where does he get it from?

You approached the entrance, the lively crowd enhancing the thrill of the moment. Chatter filled the waiting room and after grabbing your tickets—he insisted on paying because the date was his idea—you headed to the concession stand.

“Okay, we need the largest popcorn they have. And candy! Which one should we get?” he declared as you stood before the colorful assortment of sweets.

“Hmm, gummy bears?” you suggested, but he shot you a look like you'd just suggested swimming in jelly.

“No way, we need chocolate! It’s a movie must-have!” He patted his chest as if making a proclamation.

You chuckled, and after a quick playful banter about whos the better movie must-have you settled on a massive bucket of honey popcorn and a couple of chocolate bars, and he practically wore a victorious grin as you made your way into the screening room.

Once inside, you found your seats—perfectly positioned in the middle of the theater. The dim lights illuminated the previews casting shadows across the room. Bachira flopped down beside you, as you couldn’t help but snicker watching his exaggerated excitement for the snacks, He lunged for the popcorn, shoving a handful into his mouth, claiming he couldnt wait to devour them, and thats probably going to make the both of you watch the rest of the movie without snacks. Fun.

“mhmff! 'his ish tha befsh parsh of tha 'ovie!"  he laughed with his mouth full and a buttery grin "wanth sum?" He offered you a handful of perfectly honeyed popcorn and you could resist the urge to say yes.

You settled in as the previews began to roll, the buzz of the theater fading into the background. He leaned close, whispering comments about the upcoming films, and you found yourself leaning into him, soaking up every moment of this somewhat messy date.

As the lights dimmed fully and the film began, you felt utterly content and couldnt ask for more. I mean your silly boyfriend AND a movie date?, surely you have the capability to muffle some giggles throughout the movie, right?

bachichan me and my skibidi rizzler yall vould NEVER 🤑🤑

leo._.reo how did bachira pull before me 😭 unbelievable ➜kingbarou the real question is how did he find someone that matched his freak bachichan yall just jealous 🤑🤑

➜redprincessa @ynthediva please reconsider and thank you 😊 ➜bachichan solve whatever shit you have between you and that ichigo wannabe 🤑🤑 ➜ku_.niga_.mi im gonna gorge your eyes out. ➜bachichan @redprincessa come get yo dog bih 😭😭

ynthediva the date was so fun 😊 exited for more! ➜bachichan glad to heart dat :DD hihuihihh ➜slurisagi why r u down bad bro ➜redprincessa that brotha gooone

➜aikou20 yoo my number xxx-xxx-xxx if u ever get tired from that schizo <33 ➜ynthediva arent you like 30 ➜aikou20 WHAT. ➜bachichan CLOCKEDDDD

୨୧ ㆍ  alexis ness

The sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting playful shadows across the flour-dusted countertop. You stood there, and besides you ness, apron tied snugly around your waists.

He carefully put the ingredients needed on the countertop and fetched the necessary kitchen tools . "Alright, we have everything ready, we can start now sweetheart ♡” Ness’s sweet voice and dimpled smile broke through the quiet atmosphere.

at ness's announcement you pressed the play button on your phone that started a relaxing melody. You rolled up your sleeves, and together you began measuring ingredients, flour flying, and playful banters. As you poured and stirred, he leaned in closer than necessary, your shoulders brushing.

"It hasnt even been long and i already made a mess.." you said defeatedly, apron full of flour and chocolate stains.

“but youre my mess.” he replied, his gaze softening as he caught your eye. You could feel your cheeks heat up, but you just shrugged it off with a smile. "I swear youre such a tease."

Before long, the oven was preheating and the dough was chilling. “Okay, next step — the bake,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron, feeling quite smug.

He looked at you with a sad puppy-dog expression. “i hope i wont be the cause that messed up the cookies... like the last time.. "

You couldn’t help but feel pity for him, remembering the charred remnants of what was supposed to be a masterful treat. “Hey, that just shows how dedicated you are to your art,” you teased, nudging him playfully. "And i still ate them, didnt i?"

As the sweet aroma began to fill the kitchen, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the oven. It was the way he wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you, the way he didnt want to dissapoint you again. it was honestly admirable.

“Just wait until they come out of the oven. They’re going to be amazing just wait till you see!” you said, stealing a quick glance at him, trying to hype him up from his wet-cat mood.

“Not as amazing as you.."  he muttered quietly, but you fortunately catched it and you noticed the hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Okay, flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned, finally pulling the oven tray that contains now fresh and delicious looking cookies. you didnt miss the chance to shove a hot one to him.

"See? They look appetizing. And i bet theyre tasty too —" You tried one, forgeting it hasnt been even 5 minutes theyre out from the oven. yeah you got burned and got a panicked ness worrying.

alexisn3ss memories with my favourite person 😊💗

anriiiii looks delicious 😮 mind if i get a taste? 🎀 ➜ynthediva yess!! Of course!!! ➜alexisn3ss no go make your own 😊

charliesthebaddie NOOOO who wants to make heart shaped cookies w me 😔😔😔 ➜shidoxox dw i gotchu bro ➜charliesthebaddie bro... 😢

redprincessa i smell wife material 👃 ➜slurisagi from who tho ➜redprincessa alex ➜alexisn3ss call me that again and your acls r gone ➜redprincessa YOU DID NTO ➜ynthediva what do i even say to this 😭 ate or be nice 💔 ➜redprincessa so now ur doubting wether to back me up or not 😒 i thought we had sum smh ➜ynthediva NO PLS I STILL NEED TO KNOW YOUR HAIR CARE ROUTINE

© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[teencopandthesourwolf]

HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS

written for the @sterekdrabbles 06/06/25 challenge where the prompt words were DECAY, RUN, and BURST. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as this obviously went long lol. the title is borrowed from the emily dickinson poem of the same name.

.

In hindsight, sleeping at the old house was a pretty fucked up thing to do.

Laying your head in the eternally-charred ruins of your childhood home (on nights you're lucky enough to not be fighting for your life) was like being stuck on some sort of witch cursed roller coaster. The ride traversed a perilous track that set off at A Lot, lurched through the many gut-wrenching dips of Not Enough, to then end with a showstopping loop-the-loop finish of Much Too Much.

Maybe getting used to the smell of cinder and smoke was inevitable, because after a while Derek's senses barely seemed to register any ashen notes at all.

What lurked beneath was all that was left of Derek's pack. A bittersweet bouquet of shattered memories lingered in the bones of the Hale house, like an old fracture you suffered while checking an activity off your bucket list.

He hadn't thought there was anyone to question him on how he felt about it, but if somebody were to ask, Derek would pretend he didn't want to talk about the way he'd sometimes get a fragrant burst of the long-dead Lily of the Valley flowers his mom planted around the perimeter of the property, back before any of her children were born; or how he'd occasionally scent the sharp tang of whatever edible berries his younger siblings picked from the bramble bushes found in the northern parts of the preserve, sticky fingers rarely managing to bring home more than half their findings to be baked in a pie by Derek's dad; or how every now and then he'd catch the warm haze of melted wax from the candles he and Laura sometimes made together on rainy Sunday afternoons as children, infused with homegrown spearmint and lavender, or cinnamon and moss.

But just as the smell of burning had all but evaporated into the ether, the ghost-scents of Derek's family eventually drifted off into obscurity, too.

In the end, the only true essence Derek could detect of his loved ones was the cloying stench of decay, as constantly nauseating as it was horribly permanent. The stink of it settled in for the winter, taking up residence at the back of his throat, which was the same place his heart lived these days. That mess of an organ had been beaten and broken and nailed back together so many times by this point, it didn't sit as snugly as it might have done once upon a time, taking up more real estate than it was supposed to. There simply wasn't enough room in there for both to exist, each too big and too loud. Something had to give if Derek was to keep on surviving. If he was ever going to live again.

The flashbacks—remembered sensations of being cornered and tricked and orphaned, of being goaded, tortured by proxy—were back and threatening to take over Derek's psyche completely, likely to consume what remaining sanity he had left from the inside out.

Derek had to escape, needed to flee the waking nightmare he'd found himself in. He wanted to run again, and keep running, to get himself as far as possible from the living hell this rotting place had liberated in his mind.

So he ran, and he didn't look back.

The difference this time, was it turned out Derek wasn't running away but toward something.

The storm that had been brewing all day broke at the very same time Derek found himself outside 129 Woodbine Lane, standing directly under the chronically-open window situated at the front of the pale blue and white timber-clad house. With the sudden summer downpour soaking him instantly as it pelted down in harsh sheets, he quickly breathed in the heady mix of everything that room contained, before it got washed down the drain along with the dirt and the rain.

He scented engine oil and highlighter ink, coffee, Big Red gum and Skittles, all overlaying the spice of sweat and Sliquid™ and spunk—the cheap pine plug-ins and too much Lynx Africa body spray bravely attempting yet failing to mask it. The redolence wafted down brashly, filling Derek's nostrils with a sense of not just Teenage Boy, but something more curious; a base note that recently started smelling as if it could take flight, maybe even carry off some of Derek's grief and shame on its back.

Then the wretched thing that hid behind Derek's ribcage began to unfurl itself. Little by little, like a fern uncoiling at first light, it hesitantly emerged, seemingly recognising a sense of promise rather than threat for the first time in forever.

And when Derek scaled the building and climbed inside through Stiles's open bedroom window, and as he stood there dripping all over Stiles's carpet as Stiles looked at him from across the room like he understood, and like he cared, then blessing the rest of Derek's days with the word stay, Derek found he could be brave enough to not let himself worry about it, and he answered Stiles with the word okay.

.

[cinnamon7girl7]

"THE SECRET INGREDIENT WAS HIM"

From the very first Saturday, you realized the cooking class wouldn’t be as peaceful as you had imagined.

The atmosphere in the room was warm—full of laughter, flowery aprons, and tote bags bursting with ingredients. Most of the women were older than you, and they welcomed you kindly, asking if you had any experience. You answered with a modest smile, completely unaware of what was coming.

The first project was simple: banana bread. Everyone was asked to bring their own ingredients. Some showed up with green bananas, others with overripe ones no one had wanted to eat that week. You walked in with a wooden box holding the perfect bananas, a small dark bottle, and a set of glass jars with handwritten labels.

The first to approach you was a lady with glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. She leaned toward your things, curious, and sniffed—without the slightest bit of shame.

—Is that… vanilla? —she asked, sniffing as if her life depended on it.

You nodded and carefully took out the dark little bottle.

—Yes. It’s homemade. My husband made it with real vanilla beans. He double-filtered it and let it mature for three months in this bottle.

The silence that followed was almost offensive. One woman dropped her wooden spoon. Another blinked slowly, as if trying to process what she had just heard. A third simply raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

—Homemade? —someone repeated from the back.

—Yes, —you said innocently, without meaning to brag— He even made a label for it with a gold pen. Said he couldn’t give me something so beautiful without signing it.

The looks they gave you landed somewhere between admiration, awe, and mild domestic tragedy. No one said another word. But as you measured out careful teaspoons of your magical essence, you knew—without a doubt—that every single one of them was wondering why their husbands could barely turn on the kettle without supervision.

The second time was during the muffin class. The teacher suggested bringing assorted nuts. Some brought half-open bags with chopped walnuts, others had supermarket packs that looked a little sad.

You arrived with a handwoven pouch, embroidered with your initial, filled with pecans, roasted almonds, shelled pistachios, and lightly caramelized chestnuts. You didn’t say it proudly; you said it like someone mentioning something ordinary.

—My husband asked me what kind of nuts I wanted and went looking for them at a craft fair. He sent me pictures of all of them so I could choose. Then he brought me this pouch to keep them in. He sewed it himself.

The woman next to you stared at her plastic bag like she had just committed a crime. Another pretended not to care, but pressed her lips tightly while mixing her batter harder than necessary. Someone let out a very unsubtle sigh.

You pretended not to notice. But inside, you could feel it. You had stirred something.

The third event was almost accidental. Your mixer broke down halfway through the class. The sound stopped abruptly, and you let out a barely audible “oh no” that only the woman at the next table heard.

Less than five minutes later, you got a message.

You got up, went to the door, and came back carrying a brand-new professional mixer box. One of the ladies dropped her ladle. Another just murmured something like “no way.”

—He brought it for you…? —said a voice from the back table.

—Yes —you answered without much fuss—. He was just nearby. Said he couldn’t leave me without tools, and he brought coffee for everyone.

As if you had dropped a fragrant bomb, everyone looked up at the same time. At the door, with his usual charming smile and sunglasses hanging from his shirt, he waved while holding a tray with steaming cups.

—Good afternoon —he said naturally—. I brought mocha with a hint of cinnamon. And a couple of muffins leftover from your last recipe.

You stepped forward, took the coffee with a smile, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

—You look beautiful with flour on your nose —he murmured.

There was silence. Dead silence.

The others watched. Not you, of course. Him. The husband who showed up with coffee, replaced broken appliances without being asked, and said sweet things as easily as other men grunt “I ate already.”

And when he left —with a wink and a goodbye as elegant as his perfume—, there was no turning back.

They didn’t try to compete.

They didn’t look at him like a trophy to steal.

They just understood, deep down, that this man already belonged to someone.

To you.

And that, on top of it all, you knew exactly how lucky you were.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

100 Words for Worldbuilding

Some sensory words that can enhance your story/poem.

A-E

Acid - sour, burnt; vinegary

Acrid - strong, biting (e.g., something on fire)

Airy - natural smelling, (e.g., clean, fresh air)

Ambrosial - fragrant; having a pleasant smell

Aroma - strong, yet pleasant scent

Aura - smell surrounding something

Balm - soothing scent

Billowy - scent that surges and wanes

Biting - pungent, sharp or harsh

Bouquet - blend of floral scents

Briny - salty

Buttery - smooth; rich; greasy

Citrusy - crisp notes of any citrus fruit

Clean - very light scent, clean and natural

Cottony - soft; smooth or delicate

Creaky - squeaky; showing signs of deterioration

Crisp - fresh and natural

Crystalline - strikingly clear or sparkling

Dirty - nasty, unpleasant odor

Doggy - odor like an unbathed or wet canine

Downy - soft, soothing; silky; delicate

Earthy - recently dug or tilled soil

Essence - basic, natural scent

F-M

Faint - very light or mild; can barely be detected

Feminine - floral fragrances

Fetid - decaying or rotting smell

Fishy - smelling of fish; pungent, strong, unpleasant

Fleecy - shaggy; woolly

Floral - scents associated with flowers

Flowery - fragrance similar to flowers

Foamy - frothy; bubbly

Fragrance - pleasant smell

Fresh - natural smelling, rather than artificial

Fruity - having the flavor or aroma of ripe fruit; sweet

Gaudy - excessively showy

Gingery - pungent; sharp, robust taste or aroma

Globular - spherical

Gossamer - light, delicate, or insubstantial

Grainy - coarse; sandy; unrefined

Heady - very strong aroma

Incense - strong scent

Lemony - tart, piquant citrus notes

Lilac - rich floral scent combining rose with vanilla

Lime - refreshing and zesty citrus smell

Loamy - fragrance with an earthy note

Masculine - earthy fragrances

Medicinal - earthy; often unpleasant

Mildewed - soaked in wetness that has gone stale

Minty - menthol-like smell (e.g., mint tea or peppermint candy)

Misty - mild fragrance, not overpowering

Moist - smell of dew or rainfall

Moldy - damp, fungus-like odor

Musty - old smell; stale and probably moldy

N-R

Nauseating - odor that makes one sick to the stomach

Odorize - changing the scent

Overpowering - too strong of a smell

Peppery - hot, pungent, fiery; stinging

Perfumed - artificial fragrance, not natural-smelling

Pheromone - natural scents

Piercing - loud, shrill; biting

Pine - crisp, refreshing evergreen smell

Piquant - pleasantly pungent, sharp, or spicy taste

Plastic - artificial chemical polymer odor

Poignant - pungently pervasive; piercing

Prickly - stinging; irritating; itchy

Pristine - fresh and clean as or as if new

Pungent - strong fragrance

Putrid - stench of decay

Rancid - spoiled; food that has gone bad

Rank - offensive in odor or flavor

Redolent - having a strong, permeating odor

Repulsive - off-putting odor

Rich - strong, resounding smell that is appealing to the senses

Ripe - brought by aging to full flavor or the best state

Rose - spicy yet sweet fragrance

Rotten - spoiled, rancid, unpalatable

S-Z

Savory - spicy, salty scent that has no elements of sweetness

Sharp - pungent fragrance that permeates the air

Skunky - noxious smell that lingers; sulfuric (like rotten eggs) odor

Smoky - scent of burning wood

Soapy - smooth and slippery

Sour - rancid, sickly sweet smell

Spicy - sharp, heady, can sting or tickle the nose

Spoiled - rotten; something that has “gone bad”

Stale - old, dusty, stagnant odor

Stinking - unpleasant, foul smell

Sweaty - perspiration odor

Sweet - sugary smell

Tangy - having a powerfully stimulating odor or flavor; acidic

Tantalizing - arouses or stimulates desire or interest

Tart - sharp fragrance or taste

Tasteless - arousing no interest; dull

Tempting - having an appeal; enticing

Trace - a tiny amount of fragrance

Velvety - soft, smooth, thick, or richly hued

Vinegary - sour; disagreeable, bitter, or irascible

Whiff - a fleeting scent

Wispy - hint of fragrance in the air

Woodsy - forest-like smell

Zesty - sharp and pleasantly stimulating

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Worldbuilding ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs