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#it's that sea salt spray lmao
hottiehiei · 3 months
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Howdy! Um I was wondering if you would write team Uremeshi scents. (Colognes, body washes, whatevs😘) Whenever you get the time to write Thank you so much
Hi !!! <3 Interesting! I've never considered this before, thank you!
Side note: I only write for Hiei, but I didn't make that known; sorry about that! I decided to do the entire team anyway though because why not lol
Team Uremeshi Scents
sfw, just silly headcanons to make you laugh :)
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𓆩⟡𓆪 Hiei: I’d say a mix of various earthy scents!
He spends quite a lot of time outside, so it’s easy for different forest smells to latch onto his skin and clothes, like wood, pine, grass, rain, etc.
Whenever he decides to visit the ocean shore, you'll catch a whiff of salt and sea breeze too!
Hiei often resides in the demon world, so there’s a small tinge of blood (iron/metallic smell)
After using Darkness Flame, a slight burning smell surrounds him— like burnt flesh (the smell was incredibly strong when he used it during the Dark Tournament)
When bathing, he might visit a quiet hot spring or small lake. Hiei is petty enough to refuse body wash simply because it's a human made product. He mostly prefers a plain bar of soap without any strong fragrances or chemicals.
Hiei isn’t a cologne guy either, but if he happens to come across a scent he particularly likes, he might snatch it.
𓆩⟡𓆪 Kurama: Well, Roses, of course.
This man is a walking bouquet. He naturally smells like a freshly bloomed rose on a spring morning.
Floral scents all the way. Floral body wash, floral perfume, floral lotion, you name it. He is the KING of skin care. Organic products only. Cruelty free. Vegan. Recyclable. The list goes on and on. He certainly doesn’t need any of these items but he enjoys collecting them anyway!
Kurama uses homemade soap bars made from various flowers and leaves, and he likes to take bubble baths with rose petals in the water!
Even on his worst day, after a life or death battle, he still smells the best out of everyone in the group. You would’ve thought he’d just taken a stroll through a garden rather than fighting for his life.
𓆩⟡𓆪 Yusuke and Kuwabara: There is no nice way of putting this. They're stinky asf.
Just kidding-!!
Partly….
These two get into so much trouble. By the time they make it back home, they're covered in sweat, dirt, and traces of blood. Luckily, after a shower, they smell much better.
Think of the most basic men’s body wash. That’s their smell range. (Musk and spice scents are most common) Kuwabara may pick up shea butter here and there because he’s fond of sweet smells. Yusuke grabs whatever smells decent and moves on.
There’s also a good chance you’ll smell their hair gel if you get close enough.
As for cologne....AXE BODY SPRAY.
lmao okay seriously, if they actually buy cologne, they would pick the most masculine-smelling scent and spray the hell out of it. You will smell them coming from miles away.
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no1frogfan · 1 year
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Untitled Makki/Seijoh4 drabble
Hanamaki x gn reader (x the rest of Seijoh4 a bit)
Word count: ~1.3k
Tags & warnings: SMUT-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Hair fetish, cum in hair, PUBES we love ‘em and Makki definitely does, implied breath play, mentions of penetration & throat fucking, dubcon (no dubcon sex but reader is unknowingly participating in Makki’s fetish), reader has silky hair that’s long enough to braid, no hair color mentioned
Note: How do these keep getting longer and longer? They’re not really drabbles anymore, but I couldn’t stop writing because pervy Makki is so fun. This is actually depraved lmao
Iwa | Mattsun
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You flop down cross-legged onto the rug in front of Makki. He scoots forward, draping his legs over your shoulders and pulling you back against the side of the bed. Steam is still rising off your head as he carefully teases out any tangles.
When it’s combed through to his satisfaction, he spreads deep conditioner across his hands and gently reaches forward to massage it into your scalp. The cinnamon and peppermint prickle pleasantly across your skin.
He dollops more conditioner on your hair, and, god it looks so much like… He doesn't know how many times he’s imagined it, wrapping your silky locks around his hand to press your nose against his abdomen. He could even thread both hands through your hair to hold you down while he bucks into you, savor the feeling of you gagging around him and, at the last second, pull you off him to paint hot streaks across your face and hair. He’s sure you’d make him cum so much, thick gobs of it covering your head and sticking to the strands.
Makki tears his eyes away and takes a long, calming breath.
Then another.
He shakes his head and returns to the task of caressing the conditioner into every strand.
You feel the tension leaving your neck and shoulders. Your eyes close, body relaxing under his ministrations.
When he walked in on you putting your hair up a week ago, he never realized an opportunity like this would literally land in his lap.
The wind had been relentless that day, loosening your bun and whipping the escaped tendrils across your face out on the boat. The spray of salt water and the grabby hands of the younger guests had done a number on it too. He saw you get progressively more irritated as the day went on, your tight bun devolving into a messy one, devolving further into an untidy ponytail, and finally barely managing to even be wrangled into that.
Then he’d stumbled in on you in the bathroom while you were trying to wrestle with it for the umpteenth time that morning, an angry scowl twisting your face.
Shakily (could you see his hands trembling?), he’d reached up to tease the knottiest tangles apart with his fingers and tie it up for you.
He’d pulled back reluctantly after he finished, and keeping his tone as casual as he could, offered to braid it for you that night. “I have two sisters,” he’d added hurriedly by way of explanation, trying to cut off any hesitation at the pass.
“You…don’t mind?”
Mind? He’d been itching to run his fingers through your hair for weeks, wondering if it really was as soft as it looked, wondering how you manage to keep it so lustrous and bouncy despite the harsh sea water and the harsher sun. Wondering how good it would smell if he buried his face in it.
“It’s no big. I used to do it all the time.”
As easy as that, he’d opened the door to this new nightly routine. And every night since then, it’s tested his discipline.
Like tonight. With careful fingers, he parts your hair down the middle and pulls the halves taut, relishing the feel of it gliding across his skin. You’re half asleep now, so far gone you don’t notice the quivering little gasp that escapes your mouth.
Uncertain he heard correctly, his eyes dart up to Oikawa, Iwa, and Mattsun in turn. All their eyes on trained on you too.
Maybe… He tugs your hair a second time.
Ah! There it is again—
A stutter and an almost inaudible moan.
Makki has to bite back a groan. Fuck. Do you like that? He looks down and almost bites through skin at the sight of the wet strands splayed across his bare thighs, so close to his twitching cock he could almost…maybe he could even grab a palmful and fuck his fist with it, until your hair is sticky with his cum. You’ve always been a deep sleeper. He could rub it in and you’d never be the wiser.
Or maybe you’d prefer to be on top and in control, to see the fucked out look on his face as you take every inch of him, milking him for all he’s worth. You’d loom over him, your locks a satin curtain around his face, hiding him away in a private paradise.
If he asked you to, would you grow it out longer? If you knew how much he liked it? If you knew it would let him easily wrap one long plait around your throat? If you knew it would let him grip it more easily when he fucks you from behind? His hand viselike as he drives into you, wrenching you back after each sloppy thrust. It’d be easier to pull you up, too. To curve your neck back for a better view as you take Mattsun or Iwaizumi, or hell, even Oikawa in your eager mouth.
You can’t see the wolfish expression on Makki’s face as he zeroes in on the way your chest rises and falls unevenly under him. But his friends can, and he can’t help but show off a little, his eyes glinting in challenge. Watch what I can do. And under the pretense of making sure he gets every strand, he runs his nails down your cheek, trails them across your neck, and with a murmured “sorry” ghosts them across your chest, there and gone.
You barely register his touch, but the evidence of it lingers in the budding of your nipples against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt.
If you opened your eyes now, you’d see him hunched over you, eyes closed in rapture. The spicy scent, the warmth radiating from you, it’s all too heady. He could lunge forward right now, pin you down against the floor and fuck you just like that. Would you want that? Want every inch of his body pressed against you, his face smothered against your neck, you invading all of his senses? Letting him drown in every strand every wisp while he thrusts into you, not too slow, not too fast, relishing the clench of your walls around him.
And he knows it’s in poor taste, but he truly can’t help but wonder: does the carpet match the drapes? He’s always trying to catch a glimpse, but he’s never been successful. Do you trim? Do you let it grow? Hopefully you don’t shave because fuck what he wouldn’t give to spread you open, bury his nose in your bush, smear his pre all over you and go to fucking town—
His eyes shoot open when someone clears their throat.
It’s impossible now to ignore how hard he is. It’s bordering on painful. You’ve dozed off a little, like you usually do, and Makki decides he’s dragged this on long enough. It takes no time at all to finish his plaiting. He leans back to admire tonight’s masterpiece — two neat French braids. Then, he covers his lap with the comforter before giving your hair one final tug.
You blink blearily, reaching up to run your fingers over his handiwork. “Thanks Makki,” you mumble, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You push off the floor, a little wobbly from the haze of sleep, and shuffle into bed.
“No prob,” he responds, voice a little strained.
Thus ends your nightly routine.
Makki, though, he usually stays up a little longer, fucking his fist in the shower while the luster of your hair still lingers on his fingertips.
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charlottesbookclub · 2 years
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Armitage Hux Headcanons
okay so I'm back at it again with the Hux brainrot. I was hoping to do another little fanfic tonight but I just don't quite have the creative energy for that rn, so instead I decided I'd finally collect all the random Hux headcanons that have been living in my head rent free for years and finally send them out into the world.
General Armitage Hux headcanons below the cut since this got a little long -- oops!
he hates being cold when he sleeps since it reminds him of his childhood. arkanis was cold and rainy, the ships that took them into the unknown regions were cold and sterile. so now that he has his own private chambers, he makes sure to keep a pile of blankets on the bed.
his mother was a baker and was particularly known for her breads. when armitage was little, she would cut slices of warm bread, smother them with butter, then dust sugar and spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, or cloves on top (or whatever the space equivalent of those are). because of this, the smell of bread and/or spices always reminds him of his mother, although aboard first order ships, it's not something he smells often.
he was bullied pretty ruthlessly at the academy. his slight frame, unique hair, and status as a bastard were all mocked and taunted almost constantly. he tried to ignore it most of the time, feigning indifference, but it actually fostered in him a deep-seated mistrust and fear of his peers.
following off that, he struggles to make personal connections with members of his crew. not that the first order really encourages that sort of thing, but friendships and other connections are pretty much bound to happen when you live and work with the same group of people. so he sees that other personnel are closer with each other than others, but whenever he makes an attempt to be more than strictly professional, people always seem put off. this is mostly because he has had so few friends, so he's incredibly awkward and unsure of what to do in a social situation (he's just like me fr fr). it's a vicious cycle.
the visual encyclopedia for tros said that pr*de was friends with both br*ndol and his wife (altho I deny that most of tros happened, just putting that out there. Hux Lives). this is just another reason that he hates pr*de, bc when he came to visit, he would join in with armitage's father and step-mother in belittling him.
he is constantly picking at the skin around his fingernails, often without even realizing he's doing it. this is another reason he prefers to wear gloves at all times when in the sight of others, so no one can see all the tiny little infected cuts on his fingers where he pulled the skin away. this is very much a symptom of his anxiety/paranoia. (also, this one is just completely me projecting lmao)
whenever he's planetside, he struggles to sleep (not that he sleeps very much or very well anyway, but it's even worse when he's planetside). he always assumed it was just the change of environment, which does account for part of it. but actually it's the silence he can't stand. on the finalizer or whatever other ship he might be on, there is the constant whirring and humming of machines. air circulators and the huge engines that keep the whole ship running along with the chatter of droids and the myriad other machines that all contribute to a thick blanket of white noise. the absence of it makes him uneasy, even though he doesn't know that it's the lack of noise that gives him the feeling of being unsettled.
he considers the huge polished war ships of the first order to be his home, but he does think about the sea on arkanis sometimes. fleeting memories will come back to him in dreams, or when he's collapsed in a state of semi-consciousness after overworking himself again. he remembers the crashing waves, the waters that shifted from deep blue to slate grey, the smell of salt on the wind, the screech of seabirds high above, the feeling of the sea spray on his cheeks and the waves lapping at his feet. he dreams of it and, although he will never admit it, he misses the sea.
that's all I have for now! but there are always more lmao. I'd love to hear anyone else's opinions on these or any other headcanons that you might have for our favorite ginger general 🧡
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ungalobrando · 2 years
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5, 8, 15 for the hc ask game? :)
Thank you so much :3
Ask Game
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5) A cherished personal belonging. 
Ungalo's beanie. He never leaves the house without it, unless he really, really has to. It doesn't have a special backstory or anything... it simply makes him feel a little less self conscious, and a little less... "naked". It's to Ungalo what Kjelle's eyeliner is to her.
8) What kind of car they would drive. 
He's the type of person who would want an Audi lmao, your typical german "douchebag" kinda car. Specifically the Audi A3 Sportback in white.
15) What cologne or perfume they would use
He slowly grows from a ton of good old axe body spray on an unshowered body, to a proper, unscented body wash with sea salt, and a hint of Jean Paul Gaultier's Le Male. And just a bit of weed.
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plumbrosia · 2 years
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I love perfume but right now I don’t think there’s a perfume I’ll buy again once I use it up. I’m always after a new thing to try.
The two i’d maybe consider but am also trying to use up: Pacifica Island Vanilla (the body spray) and Viva La Juicy Le Bubbly 🫣 the former is such a perfect dreamy vanilla and the second smells like a prettiness.
After trying the sample in high school I did ask for and was gifted the larger size of Jo Malone English pear and freesia. It’s such a lovely fresh garden scent. It came with white sage and sea salt which I didn’t like at first but now love because it smells like a bubble bath.
I recently bought Philosophy Fresh Cream because it was on sale and the tester spray won my heart and made me think of the whipped cream in a shortcake but now I understand the sourness people were talking about. It’s not bad, but it keeps me on the fence of how I feel about it because it really is like the milk after a sugary bowl of cereal. I just added some of a strawberry mist I got from Body Shop to complete the summer strawberry shortcake type of fantasy i had trying it on in the store and so far so good 🍓 two wrongs making a right lmao
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jeongvision · 4 years
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nct’s jaehyun’s perfume collection review!!
for part two, please refer to here!
hello, all! so some of you may have already known that in the past month, i have impulsively purchased various of perfumes, some of which are based on jaehyun’s personal perfume collection that he uses as mentioned on various platforms. some of the scents he uses are:
tom ford white suede
tom ford fucking fabulous
le labo neroli 36
jo malone myrrh & tonka
jo malone wood sage & sea salt
byredo bal d’afrique
as someone who loves collecting perfumes myself, this was a perfect excuse for me to buy some to get an idea on how he would ‘smell’ like!
some of you have asked for me to post a review of his perfumes! i will be primarily listing my reactions, experiences, and ratings for each scent, along with pictures of jaehyun associated with each scent and if the scent is masculine, feminine, or neutral. i have purchased all of them except for tom ford fucking fabulous. the byredo bal d’afrique will be reviewed at a later date after it arrives in the mail, so for now only 4/6 scents will be discussed.
disclaimer: this is NOT an advertisement but simply a fun and personal review of his perfume collection! but i wouldn’t be opposed with possible brand deals with any of them
before you buy!! some of the fragrances will react differently on your skin as the scents are based on your body chemistry with certain chemicals listed on their ingredients. thus, you may smell a different scent when sprayed on your body than on mine. not only that, some of the perfumes utilizes synthetic ingredients, which can be a deterrent for those with a sensitive nose. i strongly recommend sampling them out at local stores before purchasing as these brands are expensive.
without further ado, happy reading! please do tell me your personal experiences if you have also tried some of them (or perfumes from other members!) <3
warnings: heavy cursing, some vulgar language lmao (they will be listed as [**] if you would like to skip those parts, especially for minors)
TOM FORD WHITE SUEDE
“The addictive pull of leather and suede is channeled through an elegant musk-derived composition. Musk’s primal intensity is harmonized with saffron and thyme, heightened with velvety rose and warm amber. Warm, supple and sensual, a perfume with an irresistible expression of raw desire.” —Tom Ford
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first and foremost, i just want to say holy fucking SHIT HE SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD WTF ASKJFKLSJ
[**] HE SMELLS SO FUCKING SEXYAJJF IT’S HARD HOURS FOR HIM EVERY TIME I SMELL IT
like?? oh my god?????
i literally CRIED in my car after smelling it bc oh my gOD HE SMELLS LIKE THAT??!?!??
HE SMELLS LIKE A FUCKING BOYFRIEND OH MY GODJSJFJKS
i can never look at him the same way ever again holy crap
“raw desire” sOMEBODY PLEASE SAVE ME I CAN’T—
[**] like honestly it makes me want to eat his neck and choke on his dick whAt
anyways
it has a leathery and musky scent to it with a mix of powdery!!
slightly sharp when you first spray it but once it settles and marinates on your skin and clothing, it’s PERFECT
listen i’m still shooked that he smells like THAT
my friend told me one day to spray it on a big sweater and wear it to mimic wearing one of ‘his’ sweaters and—
:(
i wanted to kith him
and hug him
and cuddle with him
and never let him go aaAAAHHH
[**] oh daddy
masculine or feminine? androgynous
recommend? YES ARE YOU KIDDING ME
rating? “i’m going to name my future kid eleven because he is going to be better than you.” —liu yangyang to ten
LE LABO NEROLI 36
“Neroli is another name for the essence of Orange Blossom. The unique quality of our Neroli is its sunny floral character with an extraordinarily warm, sensual base. Rose, musk, mandarin orange (slightly aldehydic), jasmine and vanilla, among other essences, complete the portrait, bringing Neroli 36 spikiness, ease, zest and heat... Well-being, elegance and charm all in a bottle!” —Le Labo
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okay so i purchased this (and many other scents) as a sample (1.5 ml) bc this shit is hella expensive
like bro the price of it as 15 ml costs more than jo malone’s 30 ml
maybe it’s bc they said lab techs compound it on-demand??
not sure
but anyways
this gives me straight flower boy vibes
like i’m in a flower shop and there’s a cute florist behind the counter trimming and tending plants with such careful hands
but the white floral kinds
OHOHOHOHO
WE LOVE IT
if you like those kinds of scents, then this is definitely the scent for you!
seriously it smells like lilies and all the white florals alike
personally i like the sweet floral scents so this one is okay to me
still smells really good!
reminds me of glade’s fresh linen carpet powder so it unlocked a repressed memory of my childhood LMFOAODA
what a gentleman he smells like uwuuu
honestly if i was getting married to someone and he showed up to my wedding as a guest wearing this perfume i’d leave my fiancé on the spot
this man has quality tastes wtf
masculine or feminine? gender neutral (ish)? more feminine if i have to say
recommend? if you like white floral scents then you would go BONKERS over this!
rating? 7/10 only bc i prefer sweet floral over white floral scents but if i didn’t then i’d rate it 10/10
JO MALONE MYRRH & TONKA
“Rich, hand-harvested sap of the Namibian myrrh tree, mingling with the warm almond and lush vanilla notes of the tonka bean. Noble and intoxicating.” —Jo Malone
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oh bitch
BITCH
THIS MOTHERFUCKER SMELLS SO FUCKING GOOD OH MY FUCKING GODDDDDDD
“noble and intoxicating” DAMN FUCKING RIGHT IT IS
[**] I WILL GET ON MY KNEES FOR THIS MAN IF I EVER SMELL THIS ON HIM
my royal liege, jung jaehyun, i am at your SERVICE HELLO SIR WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU TODAY
he could step on my face and i’d thank him for allowing me to breathe the same air as him oh my god—
ahem
moving along now
it has a vanilla and amber scent to it! a very nice and sweet scent to it that’s not too overbearing
usually i’m not a big fan of vanilla or cake fragrances bc they tend to nauseate me
but this one?
ohohoho
this is the good stuff
i didn’t exactly purchase this one; i bought other fragrances from jo malone and they gave me free samples to choose from, and myrrh & tonka was one of them sO MIGHT AS WELL TRY IT OUT
so glad i did omg i don’t regret it
i might just buy a bottle of it
[**] another one bites the dust just RAIL ME ALREADY JUNG JAEHYUN I’M BEGGING YOU—
[**] daddy pls
masculine or feminine? androgynous, but leaning slightly towards feminine
recommend? YES OH MY GOD
rating? CHITTAPHON OUT OF TEN
JO MALONE WOOD SAGE & SEA SALT
“Escape the everyday along the windswept shore. Waves breaking white, the air fresh with sea salt and spray. The mineral scent of rugged cliffs, mingling with earthy sage.” —Jo Malone
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yo this shit smells good
like REALLY good
he smells like beaches and lemons hELLO THERE
no wonder this is one of their best sellers wtf this man has IMMACULATE TASTE EYE—
AND THERE’S ONLY ONE (1) OF HIM IN THIS ENTIRE WORLD???!?
HUH!?!!?
life truly isn’t fair, huh
okay god i see you with favorites
now
let’s see here
very citrusy!!
also has that marine type of scent to it making it exceptionally aromatic!
not too much of a boujee scent like m&t where you would use on special events
this is more like a scent you would use on a daily basis going out
but upgraded
like you would smell fresh and expensive
kind of like a lowkey rich kid type of scent but you’re humble about it but lowkey kinda flexing yk?
this smell is BEAUT i love it omg i cant stop sniffing it
i’m a sucker for citrus scents :(
i’d wear this shit to school everyday if i could and have all my friends smell me
damn i bet his sweaters smell hella nice with this perfume :(
masculine or feminine? gender neutral
recommend? yes, yes, and yes.
rating? 10/10
tl;dr— jaehyun has expensive tastes and smells so fucking sexy how is he even real what the fUCk
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aitarose · 4 years
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OUR LAST SUMMER (A.MIYA) —❥ pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader
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synopsis: one summer was all the time you had together—all the time you had to bask in the sun-kissed rays and sand-filled beaches, share soft butterfly kisses and feel the comfort of being wrapped in his arms—until his boat sailed off into the sea, forever. 
word count: 3.0k
genre: mamma mia inspired, summer fling, somewhat stuck together, angst, fluff, casual/formal writing, second person
warnings: commitment issues, mentions of suggestive content, minor cursing, heartbreak?
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notes: this was an impulse blurb because i haven’t posted any actual fics in nearly a month so here you go lol asdfjl IT’S A LITTLE ROUGH BUT I HOPE IT’S LEGIBLE LMAO AND ITS SHORT AS HELL SORRY JALSD MY BRAIN D!ED
—❥ DIRECTORY
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You remembered the first time you’d seen him.
He was a stranger, a man that you’d never once met before—standing smack-dab in the middle of your dock, the place you’d always come to clear your thoughts after hours upon hours of work, though you didn’t technically own it. It was just tradition, an accustom that you’d grown so used to that it seemed like everyone’s daily—well, everyone but his.
There were few people you didn’t know on the island, having been a member of the local family business of hotels and inns. Your little paradise, the chains of suites and saunas that you liked to think were a hidden wonder of the world—hidden to only you and the reoccurring tourists that would stay on your infamous Greek Elysium. 
The usual familiarity was scarce at the sight of his bright blonde hair and sun-kissed skin, light freckles peppered across the swells of his cheeks—no doubt caused by countless hours at sea as he stood beside a large sailboat. He appeared to be a free spirit, much different to all of the others that would find stay on the shores. 
It was a common getaway, an escape from the reality of life and the troubles that came with emotional attachments and labor. Every personality was alike, each one masking the pain of all that tied them down—wishing that they’d ever have to board that boat back to the mainland, and just stay in a world without worries and never-ending surf. 
But the way he was standing with his body language in reaction to the sea, made you think that perhaps he wasn’t like all of the other’s who came and went. That perhaps he was a free spirit entirely on his own, one that didn’t force the necessities of comfort and relaxation on his mind—it just came naturally.
“You lost?” Your voice called out, the sound ringing with the wind chimes against his sails—diverting his attention from the white peaked waves to your melodious sound. He gave you his full attention, immediately focusing on your approaching frame—a look of relief arising on his face. 
He reached behind his neck, scratching the roots of his hair whilst a sheepish smile gleamed in the light. “Thank god, you found me!” He chuckled, the browns in his eyes sparkled with golds and copper, complimenting his overall look perfectly—in all honesty, you didn’t think you’d ever seen such a handsome man. “I docked around a half-an-hour ago, just didn’t know where I was supposed to head next.”
“Would a beautiful girl like yourself happen to have the time to help a poor sailor out?”
Shaking your head, you grinned, scoffing slightly at the obvious flirtation, before walking towards him. Your feet moved in small steps, thoughts dancing around the idea of a summer fling—after all, it wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened. You, an eccentric woman, one with the island, always seeming to attract men of all natures with not a care in the world.
Maybe he would be your new conquest, your newest mark in the endless journey of love that you never wanted to conclude. Another man who’s mood would turn from complete adoration to disgust when you’d reject his love and send him off to sea—never to be met again. Simply a memory you’d look back on when your past ran wild and smile in nostalgia. 
You plopped down on the end of the dock, head thrown back as your feet touched the water—a refreshing feeling taking over your entire body. The man watched in amusement at your obvious compatibility with the ocean currents and approached you as you patted the place beside you—an open seat reserved for him.
“So, sailor.” You mocked, swinging your jaw to face him with a sing-song tone. “Tell, me. What brings you to my island?”
He raised his eyebrows, creases appearing near his forehead with youthful wrinkles at their wits—not hiding how enamored he was at your playful tone. “Your island?” There was a matched mood in the both of your speech, potential feelings rising in the pits of your stomachs. “I’m sorry, gorgeous. Last I checked, you didn’t own all of Greece.” 
You scoffed, kicking your feet up to splash his ankles—cold sprays of salt water hitting the skin of your shins up to your thighs. “Well, last I checked lonely sailors didn’t talk back to pretty women—or are you just an enigma Mr...”
“Miya.” He replied, concluding the sentence that you hadn’t been able to finish with ease—identity revealed to the girl he’d already festered a crush on, despite it only having been a mere twenty minutes since you’d first begun to speak. “Miya Atsumu.”
‘Y/N L/N.” You held out a hand with a shit-eating grin as he gripped it firmly, shaking your palm enthusiastically whilst your eyes held his—a silent stare down in the midst, the morning sunrise changing to one of noon, reminding you of the ticking time. “And how long did you say you’ll be staying here?”
“Well, I’m here for my brother’s wedding.” Atsumu shrugged, nudging your shoulder with his and gazing out to the countless other sailboats in the bay. “Technically, I’m only meant to be here for a few weeks...”
“...but I’m sure I’ll find something here to keep me longer.”
And that he did. 
He’d managed to find a countless number of reasons to keep himself busy. Infinite excuses not to set his sail at sea—excuses that had nothing to do with the start of Osamu’s wedding festivities, or with the waning fear of his workplace calling him back to play, or even the worry of his heavy pockets running dry of cash.
Perhaps it had something to do with how his heart pounded whenever you were around. The artery nearly jumping out of his chest in the times you’d grab his hand and pull him along the stone-studded paths throughout the tropical trees,  giving him tours of your favorite spots—laying picnic blankets under the shade and sharing piña coladas with pink straws. 
Or the constant days at the beach. How you’d share an umbrella only for it to fly away in the wind—leaving the two of you out in the open rays of the sun, vulnerable to burns that Atsumu always managed to obtain. You later having to help him wash off in a cool shower—concern furrowing at your brows with every wince and whine he’d muster. 
Treating him as your own personal island dweller, you’d become attached at the hip. Neither one of you wanting to be without the other for longer than a day—knowing that your time was limited, but ignoring it all the same. The summer was one of new opportunities and experiences, things that you had already set your mind to—only now having his name next to those goals.
Your first impressions had been correct, he was undoubtedly different from all of the other flings you’d had in the past—and you’d come to realize this on the day he’d asked you to be his date to his brother’s wedding. The brother that had no idea you existed, whom you hadn’t ever planned on meeting was inevitably getting an unexpected guest.
That unexpected guest being you, of course, arriving with Atsumu on your arm and wearing a beautiful shade of baby blue. Osamu and his bride had welcomed you with open arms, no suspicions at all when they’d noticed the genuine look of happiness in the blonde’s eyes—a look that they hadn’t seen come out of him in a very very long time.
“Was it everything you dreamed it would be?” He whispered, lips pressed against your hair—arms holding you close as the gentle orchestrals echoed in the night night breeze. The shadows of candle lit jars and paper lanterns covering your face in defined shades of grey—making you look all the more gorgeous.
You sighed into his chest, taking in his sweet scent, that of fresh oranges and salt—the smell of the ocean never truly washing away from his aura. “I loved it, actually.” An earnest tone spoke out from your mouth, sincere admissions flowing like waves, reaching his ears and giving him little dreams of the future—your future.
“It was one of the most beautiful ceremonies we’ve hosted, and I truly mean that.” Your voice was soft, quiet as to not disturb the calm mood in the moonlight—the stars shining down on every pair on the dance floor, even the young children blowing kisses in each other’s direction, not knowing the true feelings of love, yet wishing for them in their hearts. 
Atsumu took a step back, holding your hand in his and spinning you beneath the stringed bulbs—smiling warmly as you let out an uncontrollable giggle—complaining how he was making you dizzy with glee. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so utterly full of admiration for a single person in the entirety of his life.
With a smirk at the corners of his cheeks he pulled you in, twirling you back around and into the safety of his tanned arms—the physical contact was nothing new to you, yet there was something in the way his palms held yours that made you feel like there were ulterior motives to his antics. 
“Steady there, sailor.” You whispered, slightly out of breath—not only from the tireless dancing you’d endured all evening, but from the minimized distance between your bodies. His lips were a mere centimeters away from yours, so close and also so far. “Wouldn’t want you doing something you might regret.”
He shook his head, leaning in to commit to the thing he wanted most in the world—his fingers reaching up to guide your chin to his, the calloused skin of his thumbs tickling your sensitive nerves and setting free all of the festering butterflies in your chest. 
“Trust me, gorgeous, when I say that I don’t have regrets.”
His words were quickly muffled as you pressed your lips against his, smothering any quips that could possibly arise and drowning them in an ocean of pure desire and infatuation. It felt like you were on ecstasy, the uncontrollable yearning for his intimacy finally being yours to have and to hold—all coming together in one innocent kiss in the middle of an almost empty wedding reception. 
Your palms held his jawline, pulling him as close as possible whilst doing your best to convey your display of passion as small and intimate—not wanting to steal the celebrations of the day from the bride and groom—who’d in all honesty, disappeared themselves hours before, no one having seen them since then.
A quiet gasp rose from your throat as he bit your bottom lip, wanting more even though he knew that it wasn’t the time you could grant his wish—anticipation for the night to come, when you’d leave the party hand-in-hand, rushing from the back of his brain to the frontal lobe as he pulled away.
“’Tsumu.” You breathed out, eyes locked on his with giddiness underlying the tiredness in your voice. His expression matched yours, one of completion and success—patting himself on the back in imagination with the knowledge that he’d won your attention. “What was that?”
He stepped aside, still holding your hand in his, leading you off of the stone platform and into the gallery of cloth-lined tables with scattered guests—drunk in happiness and alcohol, blind to any real-world worries. The moment felt like a fever dream, an event that only occurred in film and television—nothing that you’d ever expected to experience yourself.
But with Atsumu, anything seemed to be possible. The slim probabilities becoming a zero percent error whenever he set his mind to a goal, bringing you along with him every step of the way. His calls out to you raspy from ahead, scratchy from the amount of hollering and applause he’d performed for his twin during speeches and vows.
“That,” he began, glancing back at you as you ran together towards his little villa, “that was only the beginning of the rest of our endless summer.”
And he was right, it certainly was the beginning of something. Something special and real—something that you’d never once felt in your life, right in your arms, right in front of you. He was your perfect match, you were tired of denying it—but there was one thing that the two of you had forgotten in the blissful montage of stolen kisses and sleepless nights.
Every beginning has an end. 
All stories have a final chapter, one that no reader wanted to page through—but couldn’t resist knowing the final outcome of their two favorite characters, what could possibly happen to their relationship, their future, their unspoken and unequivocal love for one another that had manifested on the ink blotched pages. 
Some had happy endings, epilogues in which the main love interests proceeded to get married, have a few kids that’d run around their fenced backyard with the sprinkler system running on overdrive. That was the dream, the dream that seemed so idealistic to most, the ideal life to live—to grow old holding hands against the oak wood of your rocking chairs as the sun set over the horizon. 
But that wasn’t your ideal life, and neither was it Atsumu’s. 
So, your story wasn’t one of those lucky fairy tales that had a happily ever after. It wasn’t a bedtime story that you’d read to your grandchildren or younger relatives, nor was it a time you’d try to forget as it ended right where it had initially begun—on the public docks of your inn house, in front of his weary sailboat.
The only differences being the setting sun rather than the rising dawn and the twinkling stars appearing in the dark sky in contrast to their disappearance in relation to the morning clouds. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that it was all coming to an end, shooting off into the darkness with the explosions of nebulas and constellations. 
“So, this is it.” Atsumu spoke aloud, possibly to you or the emptiness of the sea. The usual warmth in his tone sounding robotic and unkept, unfamiliar to your heart, unfamiliar from the man you’d come to hold such strong feelings for in a mere three months. “This is our last night, our last minutes.”
He turned to face you, hands holding the limp ropes whilst pulling them tight and wrapping them in their holsters, billowing the sails in the strong night breezes—there was said to be a storm brewing, and it was ever so timely to have happened the same night a hurricane was forming in your blackened and broken heart. 
You’d never seen such a sorrowful expression on his face, used to the typical dumbstruck happiness and easygoing nature that was void and lost, that absence setting in the reality of your relationship’s oblivion. He let go of his secured ties, elbows leaning against the railing and towards you as you stood at the edge of the doc. 
“It doesn’t have to end here, you know.” He suggested, his voice shaky and unsure—not knowing what your response would be—not knowing that you loved him, too. “You could come with me, see a world that isn’t an isolated island—we could travel together, see all the other wonders—we could be happy, forever.”
Your breath hitched, chest airtight, all of the oxygen in your lungs at max capacity—catching in your lungs with no chance of getting out. His words had somehow managed to itch the hidden and sensitive regions of your heart—the ones that had always been guarded from others, the places that he’d been able to weasel his way into. 
At the look on your face, he already knew your answer. An unspoken rejection standing stale in the humid air between you, the still distance growing further and further despite your motionless stances. Two broken hearts longing for one another with no resolution to be met. 
He bit his lip, holding back tears in the nightly shadows and nodding his head—believing that he’d been right all along. That his presumptions about you had actually been correct, that he hadn’t been different, that he hadn’t been your person amidst the countless other personalities you’d fallen for over the summers—that he’d simply been another paradisiac fling that you’d thrown away. 
But he’d never been so wrong. 
You did love him, you loved him with your entire soul—your entire existence. There was no dream you wanted more than to be with him forever, to spend every single moment in his company of laughter and contagious smiles. To pepper him in kisses and take morning dips in the ocean as the sun rose over the horizon. 
He was your soulmate, the other half that you never thought you would find—an egocentric and boastful man unlike any other you’d met before. Atsumu was your salvation, but with the fear of commitment and settled life at the back of your brain, you had no choice but to watch as his love faded into remorse. As his undying love was pulled beneath your currents of self-doubt. 
“Thank you.” He spoke, words dull yet also meaningful—full of every last confessional emotion he had to make, full of all the lost ‘I love you’s’ and goodnight wishes in the past seventy-two days of being in each other’s arms. “Thank you for letting me love you.”
And with those words, your heart sailed into the vast horizon—through the swift currents and past the submerged rocks, peaking in the rising and falling black waves. The bright white sail of his stern shading into grey as he became nothing but a speck in the night—lost to the endless sea and unknown future, a future without you. 
A future that you’d never know anything of, communication gone, forgotten between you and stripped away by the receding tides. The tides that had come just as fast as they’d gone—a physical representation of the whirlwind love story that you’d lived during the most memorable summer of your life. As you’d never be able to forget him. 
You’d never be able to forget the first man you’d ever loved. 
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taglist of bestie boos <3:
@bokoutoebutmain​ @boba-duckie​ @ryuomen​ @sexy-bee-juice​ @nekomabvc​ @cambodianprincess6
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by-kilian · 3 years
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KW! tell us your favorite perfumes pleaseee, mine is lost cherry by tom ford, even though it's performance isn't the best lmao
Ahhh I did before but I can’t find the ask for the life of me. It’s butterfly by Hanae Mori, LDBS by Kilian (obviously), angel by Mugler, alien by Mugler, and Not a Perfume by Juliette Has A Gun.
If you guys ever want a great place for perfume dupes, Lucretia’s body oils and sprays is the best. And yes, she makes a LDBS one and I have that too 🥰 smells exactly the same. The reason why I don’t link anyone to it on AO3 is bc you can’t promote commercial links to things for purchase so my go-to suggestion for all of you is always Dossier (but I’ve never tried their dupe).
I also bought the Fenty perfume when it came out and I know the reviews are mixed but I like it. It’s the exact scent she sprayed on her Fenty luxury clothing line, and when I bought a dress from that line I was obsessed with the smell. Def not an everyday perfume though, it’s for night time / date night bc it’s very sexy.
Also I have yet to like a perfume by Tom Ford! Idk if his formulation doesn’t work with my body’s chemistry but it’s sad 😭 I smelled black orchid and gagged. What does lost cherry smell like though?
Edit: Another one I really like lately is Jo Malone Wood Sage & Sea Salt. Smells like what it sounds like. Sooo pretty and beachy.
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dead-end-street · 3 years
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690 with Chayenzo pls and thank you ^^
Thanks for the prompt for "on an island". I had intended for this to be shorter but then my hand slipped and it accidentally got smutty lmao enjoy~~
(Read on ao3)
---
The night breeze was stronger than usual on Pagliuzza. A gust of wind blew through Vincenzo’s open window, sending a stack of papers on his nightstand fluttering to the floor. His eyes snapped open, hand immediately going for the gun tucked between the mattress and the headboard above his head. After a few moments he realized there was no intruder — not that there would be on his secluded and secure private island — but a year and a half after living here, he still found himself reverting back to old habits.
Especially now.
He walked to the window, pushing the billowing, white curtain aside to look out at the waning moon in the sky. Something caught his eye down below and he saw a figure walking towards the beach, partially obstructed by the trees. When they reached the sand, he could finally make out that it was her.
---
Hong Cha-young stood alone on the beach, the warm breeze making her oversized sleep shirt shirt, which normally reached just above her knees, ride up slightly. She had arrived that morning after what felt like days of travel, greeted by the most beautiful man in the world, whom she now could finally call her own. The whole day seemed surreal; from finally being back together with him, to touring his island and the villa he’d built with her in mind, to the way his staff already treated her like she was part of the family as if they’d known her for years. He had told her that evening after dinner to get some rest in her room — the one he’d designed specifically for her — and given her a quick kiss that made her want more. She had wanted to object but her yawns kept sabotaging her plans to sneak into his room and before she knew it, she had passed out on her four-poster bed.
A few hours later she woke up feeling much better but suddenly wide awake despite it being only 3 in the morning. After a few more attempts to sleep, she gave up and decided to get some air. She loved the feeling of the cool sand between her toes, the grains exfoliating the bottoms of her feet as she walked towards the water. The moon was getting lower in the sky, the perfect crescent shape hanging above the waves. In all the hustle and bustle of the day she hadn’t actually had a chance to touch the water yet. She started walking again towards the waves beckoning her closer when she thought she heard someone call her name.
Peering over her shoulder she saw Vincenzo in a white t-shirt and what were probably Boorlaro silk pyjama shorts. When he got closer she could finally see his face better in the dark, hair tousled by the wind and a small smile on his face.
“Jetlag?” he asked and she nodded. “It will take a few days for you to fully switch over to this timezone. The trick is lots of water, eating meals at the right time for this timezone, and vitamin D.”
She smirked at the last part and stepped closer so she was right in his space. “So will you just feed me on the beach all day while I soak up the sun like a — what do they call them? Oh, cabana boy!”
He snorted and ran his hand up and down her arm. “Sure, if it would make you happy.”
His smile seemed so carefree — a look she hadn’t seen often on him when he was in South Korea. It suited him.
She turned away and continued her trek towards the water with him quickly falling into step with her.
“I can’t go the day without having dipped my toes in the Mediterranean Ocean!”
“Sea,” he corrected her. “It’s the Mediterranean Sea.”
“Whatever.”
A few more steps and she was ankle deep in the sea, surprised at how warm it was. She walked in a bit deeper until the waves were lapping at her knees and she pulled her sleep shirt up higher so it wouldn’t get wet.
“Is it always this warm?” she called behind her.
“What?”
The strong gusts had finally stopped but the breeze was still blowing at a good rate, making her words lost in the wind.
“The water. Is it always this wam?” she shouted a bit louder this time.
“It’s the warmest now because it’s August, but in the winter it can get down to 15ºC.”
“Ooh, so I came at the perfect time then!” she said, and began to walk a bit deeper, the water now at her thighs. She had to jump a few times to avoid an oncoming swell of water and to keep her clothes dry.
“You should come back inside, it’s late.”
“Don’t you want to join me? The water is so warm and the breeze is so refreshing.”
He shook his head and remained on dry land, which only made her want to do something naughty. She pretended to give up and walk back to him but at the last second, she flung her leg up, kicking a spray of water at him, then ran away cackling. She looked back and saw his nostrils flare, his white shirt almost soaked through and probably his shorts as well. She shrieked when she saw him start walking into the water towards her — a dark, predatory look in his eyes. She tried to run faster but forgot that running in water and on sand was not an easy feat. She almost lost her balance when she looked back at him again, realizing that he was much quicker than she’d expected, and let out an undignified squeal when his hand latched onto her wrist pulling her towards him. She crashed into his damp chest and looked up in time to see him dipping his head slowly, eyes fixed on her lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up, waiting for his lips to meet hers when suddenly she felt herself being pushed and falling backwards into the waves.
“YA!” she sputtered, when she emerged from the water to see a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a step back but she was faster this time and hooked her foot around his ankle, making him topple into the water next to her.
When he surfaced, he looked annoyed, probably mad about his expensive Boorlaro being ruined by saltwater. She knew the only way to take his mind off of it was to distract him, so she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Wet bangs clung to his forehead and she smiled softly. Leaning in, she finally captured his lips with her in a proper kiss. He tasted salty from the seawater but also minty from his toothpaste. She angled her head to one side and he opened his mouth wider, tongue coming out to caress hers. The waves made her lose her balance slightly but he pulled her closer to him, one arm firmly gripping her waist, while the other hooked under one of her knees, pulling her leg around him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support, then hopped up and wrapped both legs around him.
The water was warm, but his skin felt warmer under her skin. His shirt had floated up in the water and her bare legs were flush against his exposed torso. She realized her own shirt had floated up, his hand splayed across her back, under the shirt. She wasn’t sure if she could blame the jetlag for this light-headed feeling when there was this much bare skin pressed together, slick and smooth underwater.
He kissed her again and she forgot all about the jetlag, only focusing on the way he deepened it, then pulled back, sucking slightly on her upper lip. She couldn’t help the slight roll of her hips against him but it caught him off guard. He stumbled back a few steps, the water barely reaching his hips now. Had they been pushed closer to the shore? She looked back and the shore somehow seemed farther away.
“It’s the tide going out. It will be low tide in a few hours,” he explained between kisses pressed to the side of the throat and collarbone.
His fingers on her chin turned her head back to him. Back to his hungry mouth that kissed a path from her neck, up her jawline to the edge of her lips. Dipping her head again she kissed him back, moving one of her hands up to the back of his head, raking her fingers through his wet hair.
A gust of wind made her shiver against him, the air feeling much cooler than the water temperature. He wrapped his arm around her tighter and lowered himself so he was on his knees and the water came up to his neck and her chest. She contemplated unhooking her legs from his waist but his hand gripped her thigh and held her there. He ran his hand up and down her leg slowly, ending at her knee, then creeping back up higher and higher. She shivered again, pressing her chest into his, her nipples hard from the cool air. She needed to get lower in the water so her shoulders would be covered by the warm water, so she loosened her leg grip and shimmed down lower, relying on the buoyancy of the salt water to keep her afloat while she readjusted herself. A small wave came from behind her, knocking her into him, causing her core between her legs to rub into his pelvis.
Silk pyjamas left very little to the imagination but now there was no imagination required. He was getting hard against her and the way he broke the kiss to let out a groan gave her goosebumps that had nothing to do with the wind.
“We should probably stop before this goes too far,” he said, shakily, the lower parts of their bodies still pressed together with nothing but his shorts and her underwear separating them.
“Do you want to stop?” she asked, fingers still in his hair.
He let out a long breath and shook his head, “not really, but—”
“Then let’s not stop.”
He laughed against her lips and readjusted his grip so he held her with her left arm instead. His right hand came up to brush her now damp hair away from her face so he could see her better.
“We should go out a bit deeper, it’s getting too shallow again.”
She nodded and slipped off of him, her bottom hitting the sand sooner than she expected. The water somehow felt cool against her skin that had been flush against his warm body for so long. Instead of standing, they both swam a bit further out, with only their heads above the water. When he reached a spot where the water came to his mid-chest, he pulled her closer to him, hands sliding down her back as he kissed along her jawline. In a swift movement, he lifted her up, his hands on her ass, holding her in place against him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him again.
Her heart was pounding after their short swim but mostly in anticipation of what was to come. She enjoyed the feeling of his large hands cupping her bottom and squirmed a little in his grip. He was harder than before and he let out a ragged breath when she ground her hips into him, at slow and steady rhythm.
She kissed him again, never tiring of the way he always met her ferocious energy, nipping at her lips and dragging his teeth across her skin. She wondered why they never gave into their desires when he was in Korea. There were more than enough chances for them to cross the line and she hadn’t been shy about her feelings, but there was always something or someone in the way or they hesitated too long and the moment had passed.
While she was sad for all the time they had wasted not getting together sooner, she couldn’t ignore the fact that this was one hell of a way to make themselves official — on a private island in the middle of the Mediterranean, half-naked under the moonlight. They never did things in half measures.
Vincenzo’s shirt floated past her and began to sink as it got heavier with water. Somewhere between making out and grinding into him, she’d missed when he removed his shirt. She looked down but could barely make anything out below the surface of the water. Instead, she ran her hands down the flat planes of his chest and stomach, revelling in the new expanse of bare skin. His palms slipped under her shirt and along her back but she wanted him closer, so she leaned back so she could tug it over her head. Her favourite sleep shirt sank to join his, somewhere in the watery depths below them.
The water lapped at her chest, the tops of her small breasts almost visible in the moonlight. He hoisted her up slightly higher so he could dip his head to kiss and lick down her chest and take one of her nipples into his mouth.
“Oh, fu—” she gasped. His hot tongue swirling around her nipple then trailing along her chest to kiss and suck the other one.
Using her feet she tried to push his shorts down since her hands were busy holding onto him so she didn’t sink. He quickly got the message and helped her with one hand to finally push them down over his hips and he was free.
Reaching between them, she lowered her hand down his abdomen and held him at the base, gently running her fingers up and down to prepare herself for what to expect since she couldn’t see a thing past a few inches underwater. She looked back up at his face and couldn’t help smiling at the intense gaze that stared back at her. He was trying his best to keep his breathing under control but she could tell he was struggling. She snaked her other hand around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss that felt different from the others. It tasted sweeter, somehow.
As much as she wanted to savour this moment, another more animalistic side of her wanted them to finally give in. She needed him inside her. Now. Without breaking the kiss she pulled her underwear to one side then moved closer to him. As if he read her mind, he released his grip on her slightly so she could slide down further and pressed up into her as slowly as he could bear it.
It was her turn to gasp — pressing her forehead to his, eyes squeezed shut — breaking the kiss momentarily. Gripping his shoulders and back, she began to roll her hips, sliding back slightly then dropping back down as he filled her up. The hands on her hip and ass dug into her skin as they moved together. Everything was slipperier in the water and she slid off him a couple times, resulting in giggles from both of them. She dug her heels into his thighs to anchor herself better, switching the angle slightly so she could slip her hand between them again to circle her clit. He quickened the pace incrementally, opting to continue with several quick pumps followed by a few long, deep thrusts.
Their lips met again, a little sloppy from the change in angle and the gradually frantic movements happening underwater, but still good. She would never tire of kissing him. She could feel herself getting close and could only imagine he was too. There was time later for slow, drawn out sex in an actual bed, but there was only one opportunity to have sex for the first time with your ride-or-die partner in the sea. She could truly say this was most unconventional place she’d had sex.
A flurry of Italian poured from his mouth as his nails dug into her hip and his pace slowed for a moment for him to catch his breath. She could tell he was trying to make it last longer but she was ready to go over the edge and drag him with her. She squeezed around him as she accelerated the movement of her hand around her clit and rocked her hips into him a tiny bit harder. Her breath came out in short bursts, chest heaving as she could feel her first orgasm claim her. She slowed her fingers as she clenched around him, her body jerking as she clung to him. Her hand got trapped between them when he pulled her closer to pump harder into her. She could feel another orgasm building from the friction between their joined bodies and it crashed over her unexpectedly. He finally couldn’t hold on any longer, a long moan escaping his lips, and his head falling to rest on her shoulder. He slipped out of her before he came and part of her was sad for the loss of heat between her legs. She wrapped her body around him again as they bobbed in the water, feeling heavy despite the salt water keeping them afloat.
He peppered kisses down her neck and shoulder, whispering phrases that sounded foreign to her ears but mixed with words she understood. Again, she felt light-headed but blissfully happy. She gave him a kiss and untangled herself from him to stand on her own two feet, which almost gave out at first. He slipped an arm around her waist to steady her.
“That was incredible,” he said, an air of disbelief in his voice after he pulled his shorts back up.
“I’m exhausted but I can’t wait to do that again tomorrow,” Cha-young said, with a sleepy wink as they walked back to the shore.
He chuckled, “next time, we need to do it on a surface that doesn’t move. I almost drowned us out there near the end.”
As they emerged from the water they both realized their tops were missing. Looking back into the dark sea, they knew it was a lost cause to go searching for them now. At least he had shorts but all she had on was a pair of navy blue underwear. Crossing her arms across her chest, she let him wrap his arm around her shoulder to lead her back towards the villa. He paused to turn on the outside shower for them to rinse off the salt and sand from their bodies before hurrying inside, both of them dripping on the tile floor.
---
When they’d both finally gotten dry and changed into another set of sleepwear, he knocked on her door to see if she needed anything else.
“Come in,” came her soft voice behind the door and he let himself in. She was curled up in bed, eyes closed, clutching a pillow. “Stay with me.”
He nodded and shut off the light before sliding under the covers behind her. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him so she was flush with his body.
“I’m really happy you’re finally here,” he said into her hair.
“Mm, me too,” she mumbled, already drifting into a deep sleep.
He had wanted to tell her something else but sleep claimed him too quickly. They both fell asleep soundly before the sun began to rise.
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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years
Text
Five Senses - Kokhjin Qalli
[ thank you yet again @starforger​ for the tag and patience! 😄 this time’s for kokhjin! ]
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[R U L E S ] Bold always. Italicize sometimes. Strikeout nope. Tag some friends to play along! & don’t forget to repost, instead of reblog!
[ S I G H T ]: ⁕ lilac tinted twilight ⁕ brackish waters ⁕ dew drops ⁕ coils of steam ⁕ sunflowers ⁕ shooting stars ⁕ crisp green apples ⁕ stacked bookshelves ⁕ dirty apron ⁕ pearls and sapphires ⁕ apricot sunsets ⁕ doe eyes ⁕ blood-stained bandages ⁕ silver clouds across a crescent moon ⁕ freshly fallen snow ⁕ spilled ink ⁕ brass buckles ⁕ scarlet ribbons ⁕ blush ⁕ sepia ⁕ emerald moss ⁕ budding roses ⁕ stormy violet skies ⁕
[ S O U N D ]: ⁕ haunting strings ⁕ birdcalls in the morning ⁕ clashing steel ⁕ low, dirty bass ⁕ squealing tyres ⁕ whistling kettle ⁕ whip crack ⁕ stilettos on slate ⁕ crackling logs ⁕ gospel singers ⁕ hushed whispers ⁕ hoof beats ⁕ rustling leaves ⁕ stillness & silence ⁕ soprano arias ⁕ burbling brooks ⁕ grandfather clock ⁕ twinkling wind chimes ⁕ rooster crowing at dawn ⁕ bubbling pots ⁕ stacking coins ⁕ rain on window panes ⁕ smokey jazz ⁕
[ T A S T E ]: ⁕ whipped cream ⁕ blood orange ⁕ merlot & chocolate ⁕ tobacco ⁕ mint & lime ⁕ warm milk with cinnamon ⁕ wasabi ⁕ rare steak ⁕ crusty bread ⁕ liquorice ⁕ pickled onions ⁕ fresh mozzarella ⁕ petit fours & tea cakes ⁕ cognac ⁕ bergamot tea ⁕ sparkling wine ⁕ olive tapenade ⁕ fresh peach cobbler ⁕ smoked paprika ⁕ clear spring water ⁕ sticky rice ⁕ roasted garlic ⁕ toffee apples ⁕
[ T O U C H ]: ⁕ tight leather ⁕ balmy summer breeze ⁕ old gold filigree ⁕ lacquered tabletops ⁕ delicate lace ⁕ crystal glass ⁕ rough canvas ⁕ sheer, diaphanous silk ⁕ high collar ⁕ suspenders & straps ⁕ bare feet on grass ⁕ warm wool blankets ⁕ candle wax ⁕ hot springs in winter ⁕ living wood ⁕ thick, dark satin ⁕ silver buttons ⁕ bone dice ⁕ dirt under fingernails ⁕ soft feathers ⁕ loose beads ⁕ worn pages ⁕ bruises & scars ⁕
[ S C E N T ]: ⁕ lavender ⁕ lemon zest ⁕ cigar smoke ⁕ heady sandalwood ⁕ faint musk ⁕ raspberries ⁕ fresh-picked herbs ⁕ vanillin ⁕ dragon’s blood or cinnabar ⁕ fresh coffee ⁕ sea salt & spray ⁕ fir trees ⁕ sulfur & flint ⁕ charcoal ⁕ jasmine ⁕ baked bread ⁕ petrichor ⁕ coconut butter ⁕ honey ⁕ baby powder ⁕ decaying leaves ⁕ patchouli ⁕ clean sheets ⁕
==
[ tfw you realize maybe a character wasn’t made for a certain meme lmao - there’s not much to him really in this one. ]
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wingedquill · 4 years
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Cobra Kai/Old Guard Fusion
So this idea has been kicking around my head ever since I watched The Old Guard and Cobra Kai within a week of each other, and I just had to get a few paragraphs out before I got back to my unfinished Witcher fics...this might turn into something if I get the time/continue feeling inspired by it, but what are your thoughts on chaotic immortal Johnny Lawrence?
***
Johnny wakes, as he has every day for the past five years, with salt in his mouth and a scream in his throat. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stumbles over to the fridge, his mind clouded with a horror that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to shake. The knowledge that there’s a woman out there, buried in the deep blue sea, drowning again and again and again. That his nightmares are someone else’s life.
He grabs a Coors out of the fridge and pops the top off with a practiced motion, sending the lid shooting into the trash can. He holds it up to the ceiling in a mock toast.
“Morning, Quynh,” he mumbles, wincing at the raspy feeling in his throat. Dried out from last night’s drink or phantom seawater, he doesn’t know. “Hope today’s the day you finally fucking die.”
He takes a swig and hopes that she’s dreaming of cold beer on her tongue.
***
He forgets he’s immortal, sometimes. It’s surprisingly easy. He’s not like the others. He’s not like Andy, who takes down ten human trafficking rings before lunch, or like Joe and Nicky, whose “sparring sessions” alternate between making out and fighting to the death.
No, he’s a washed-up karate instructor in the asscrack of California, trying to make enough money to keep his lights on. His biggest battle is with the loser whose ass he already kicked seven ways to Sunday back in fucking high school. The last time he died was falling off the billboard of said loser’s face, while he was spray painting a dick on it.
(He hopes Quynh got a kick out of that one. Joe couldn’t stop laughing when he texted him the story. At least that’s what The Google said “lmao” means.)
Sometimes, when he’s three drinks in and considering a fourth, when he lets himself get maudlin and distinctly not-badass, he wonders why the fuck he’s still here. Why is he hanging around California, when he could truly shed his loser skin? Take on some major assholes, save some kids, bang some hot chicks, talk with people who actually understand this whole thing more than once a week.
But then, he’ll get into another fight with Shannon, listening to her slurred, furious voice over the phone, and he’ll remember just how fucking close Robby is to living on the street. And that’s why. He can’t leave him. Even if Robby never wants to talk to him again, even if he wants to keep playing happy families with LaRusso, Johnny can’t bail. He can’t be in Iran, or France, or New fucking York, the day that Robby’s life comes crashing down around his ears.
He can be a couch to crash on, if nothing else. 
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boxofbonesfic · 3 years
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☂️ Share your favorite description of an object.
oof. i don’t really describe objects too much which is... probably a failing of mine lmao. the closest i think i get is this description of Viking!Steve’s longboat from one of my WIP’s, Ashes:
Your flesh erupts in goosebumps as your bare feet touch the flooring. You have to stoop some, but you can stand. At least my legs aren’t broken. The door isn’t locked, and it opens when you tug on the roughly hewn rope handle. It swings open, and with it, comes a blast of icy, salty air. 
Your hair is blown back by the breeze as you emerge into the blinding daylight, hissing as your eyes burn from the brightness. You wonder how long you’ve been asleep, how long you’ve been in that room, but after a moment your eyes adjust. 
“The sea?” You croak, regretting the words as your mouth forms them, your throat tightening painfully. You can taste the ocean spray now, kicking up around the sides of the long, narrow boat. The wood beneath your feet is aged and pitted with salt, worn smooth from years of use. There is a mast, too, taller than any you’d ever seen  on the green-blue Nile, with sails so large you can’t imagine there could ever be enough wind to fill them. Someone bumps into you from behind, and you gasp, stumbling away. 
Emoji Ask Game
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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years
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When was the last time you changed your opinion on somebody? Hmm. It’s been awhile.
When did you last change your opinion on a situation? Recently. My mom just got back from her 3-day vacay with her sister and I was worried about her going because of covid and really didn’t want her to go, but I know this trip was very much needed for her. She most definitely deserves time for herself, she’s always doing SO much for everyone else, but has has very little time for herself to just relax and do what she wants. I want that for her, I just wish she wouldn’t have gone right now, ya know? I believe I was justified in my concern, but I know she was extra cautious and did all the necessary things (wore her mask everywhere, constantly washed her hands, wiped down and sprayed everything, practiced social distancing). I’m glad she had good time, that does make me happy. 
Why did you last visit the doctor? I have to visit my pain doctor once a month in order to get my prescription refills.
What was the last thing that made you feel proud and why? I don’t know. :/
Do you like salt? I like salty foods and add a pinch of salt or seasoned salt to some things like eggs, but I don’t crazy with it. There definitely is such a thing as too salty. A little really goes a long way.
Do you think Kurt Cobain was assasinated? No.
Do you feel uncomfortable when people you hardly know confide in you? I’ve honestly had that happen numerous times. People have told me they just feel comfortable to talking to me. It can be uncomfortable because I don’t always know what to say in return, especially since I don’t really know them, but I think a lot of the time they just want someone to lend an ear.
Have you ever regretted what you said in drunken conversation once sober? Yes. It was just embarrassing. 
Is there anything coming up which you're dreading? I’m dreading my outing to the doctor on Friday. It’s the only time I leave the house now, so I get really anxious about it. 
Anything you're looking forward to? We’re quickly approaching September, so hopefully that means it’ll start to cool down here soon.
Does it annoy you when people wish away their lives? I know people with so much potential, like they’re so smart and had a real chance at doing something big, but they throw it away. For example, I have a cousin who most definitely could have been a pro soccer player, but she threw it away for drugs. It’s really sad and frustrating. I see someone like me, wasting away, but I didn’t have anything going for me. I’m just very average. The people I’m talking about could have really done something great with their lives.
Do you ever do tediuos tasks just to keep your mind occupied? Yes.
Have you ever lived with somebody with truly repulsive habbits? No.
Do you tend to say things because they're appropraite not because you mean them?  I wouldn’t say tend to because that sounds like I do it all the time, but in some situations, sure.
What was the last thing to perplex you? Hmm.
What was the last thing to fascinate you? It just trips me out how we’re almost in September like wtf. This has been the longest year, but yet we’re almost down to the last 4 months somehow???
What was the last thing to annoy you? Blehhhh.
When did you last work your socks off fruitlessly? I just remove my socks with my hands it doesn’t take much work.
When did your hard work last pay off? What hard work?
Did you hate it when people patronised you when you were a child? I hate when it happens now as an adult.
What is a word you hate? The C word and the P word.
Do you have a favourite childrens book? Various Little Golden Books, The Berenstain Bears, Little Critter, and Amelia Badelia when I was little and then as I got older I was super into books like Goosebumps, Nancy Drew, The Babysitter’s Club, Ramona and Beezus, and various others.
If yes, what is it? ^^^^
When did you last feel a need to be alone? I need some alone time everyday.
When did you last "need" to be around people? I spend time with my family everyday as well.
Have you ever been in a job where you didn't fit in with your co-workers? I’ve never had a job.
What do you do to "expand" you mind? Read or read up on/watch videos about something new.
When did you last REALLY want to go out but couldn't for whatever reason? I’d love a nice beach trip, but I just don’t feel safe or comfortable doing so right now.
Do you need a wee right now? No.
Is there a certain noise/sound which scares you? Anything sudden will make me jump. I am twitchy. <<<
When did you last eat sweeties? What are sweeties? Unless you’re just referring to sweets in general, in which case my go-to lately has been a spoonful of frost lmao.
Do you have a favourite micro-organism? No.
What was the last thing to upset you? My cousin wasn’t feeling well yesterday so she made an appointment to get tested for covid as a precaution today and I’m just worried about her and also the fact she was around my mom a few days ago (she was the one who took my mom and my aunt (her mom) to the airport). My mom got home last night from her trip and now we’re just really praying that my cousin isn’t sick and in turn didn’t affect my mom, who would have then affected me, my brother, and my dad. She wasn’t the one who picked up my mom and aunt yesterday from the airport at least. My cousin has been pretty lax during this pandemic, so I am worried.
What was the last thing to make you happy? Hmm.
Have you ever eaten chocolate for breakfast? “Candy? For breakfast? Not candy, Reese’s Puff Cereal!” anyone remember that commercial? haha.
Do you like balloons? Sure.
Out of the people you know, who's birthday is next? My mom’s is next month.
Does that person have any plans to celebrate their birthday? Not a whole lot we can do, unfortunately. We’ll likely just get her favorite takeout and maybe a rent a movie at home.
Do you enjoy swimming? No.
When will you next go to the beach? (if you know) I don’t know D:
When at the beach do you like to swim in the sea? (weather permitting) Noooo. I like to be near the water, but you won’t ever catch me in it. If you have pet fish do you bother to name them? I don’t have any fish.
Do you like adventure games like Monkey Island and Diskworld? I haven’t played those two specifically, but yeah I loved games like that as a kid.
Did you ever read the Terry Pratchet "Disk World" books? I’ve never read them.
If yes to the question above, what are they like? Have you had to change a nappy lately? Ew, nooo.
Do you find your batteries always run out right when you need them most? Super annoying.
Would you like a holiday about now? Ugh, I wish. 
What's stopping you from going on holiday right now? (if you want to) Covid, mainly.
Do you keep your eggs in the fridge? (Assuming you eat eggs that is) Yes. It’s weird to me to think of storing them anywhere else.
Have you ever owned chickens? No.
Do you like classical music? Some.
When did you last listen to music? A couple days ago.
Have you ever seen "Canibal the Musical"? No.
Are your breasts sore? No. That’s how you’re gonna end the survey?
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cruelangelstheses · 5 years
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in the salt and swell
fandom: dragon age rating: T characters: merrill/isabela words: 1.9k additional tags: historical au, mythology au, fluff, first meetings, flirting, mermaid au description: after she and her crew end up shipwrecked, isabela encounters a mermaid. a/n: hi!! this was written for day 2 of @merribelaweek (which was yesterday but it’s fine lmao) using the prompts “ocean” and “mythology”! title from “the ocean” by against me!
read it on ao3
Sailing into the storm was a gamble, she’d say about it later.
And what a gamble it was.
But they’d had little choice, being chased by three French ships hellbent on getting their goods back. They’re pirates, not Vikings, and rather than get their asses thoroughly handed to them in a naval battle, Captain Isabela had decided to sail directly into an oncoming storm, figuring that it would either scare the French away or do them in, too.
She was right about that part, and they got away with several famous paintings, all worth her weight in gold, that she’d promised a former acquaintance in exchange for freeing his slaves. The storm wasn’t finished with them, though, and while Isabela has sailed through her fair share of typhoons, none made their mark quite like this one did.
The tumultuous ocean, the uncontrollable winds, the horrifying crack of lightning that split her eardrums and sent the mast crashing down onto the deck—all of it is a blur of adrenaline in Isabela’s memory. She remembers clinging desperately to the wheel, at first to try to steer the ship, but eventually just to have something to hold on to. She remembers the way it popped off its hinges and took her with it.
She and her crew all survived, luckily, albeit quite a bit worse for wear and having lost a few barrels of cargo. The paintings survived, miraculously, having been stored in a large, watertight crate. Her ship, however, was not as fortunate.
The Siren’s Call. Her baby. She had smashed against an outcrop of large, jagged rocks, launching them all onto the rough, unforgiving shore. When Isabela first looked up and saw the damage, the splintered mast, the torn sails hanging limply, it felt as if she’d been gutted, like she’d lost a part of her. I don’t know if she can be fixed, Varric had said. Isabela almost slapped him.
As it turns out, she can be fixed—for a price. There’s a shipbuilder in the town closest to where they wrecked, a quaint port city just off the coast of Wales, who offered to repair it as long as they could pay the fee. With all the damage sustained, it cost almost as much as it would to just have a new ship built. After a heated debate with her crew in which more than one suggested just stealing a new ship, they decided to just pay up. It wasn’t like they were short on money, anyway, even after losing some of their cargo.
So now Captain Isabela and her pirate crew have to search for things to do to pass the time while they wait for the Siren’s Call to be repaired. They spend their first few nights gambling and cheating at cards, easily winning back some of the money they had to spend on the ship. During the day, though, they all go off on their own, taking strolls through town or day-drinking to ward off the pain from their injuries. Isabela, for her part, always finds herself drawn back to the sea.
It’s been less than a week since the shipwreck, but she already misses sailing more than she misses her own mother (which is not much at all, but the point still stands). She misses the sea spray on her face, the view of endless ocean on the horizon, the gentle rocking of the boat on open water. For now, though, she contents herself with walking along the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her toes and watching crabs skitter across the sand.
It’s during one of these excursions, while she’s standing up to her knees alone in the water and breathing in the salty air, that Isabela notices something out in the distance.
The first thing that catches her attention is a splash, and when she squints, she can see droplets of saltwater flying up into the sky and then falling back down again. It’s probably a fish, she thinks, but if so, it’s quite a large one. Then she sees it: a green, fan-like tail at least the size of a dolphin’s. Every few seconds, it pops back up above the water with a splash, each time closer to Isabela than the last. By now she can see a dark silhouette beneath the surface, and it’s headed straight for her.
Isabela takes a few steps backward and reaches into her coin purse, where she’s stored a small but effective dagger. If this were a shark, she’d probably just run, but she has no idea what this creature is. She’s never seen anything like it.
Before she can make a decision, a head pops up out of the water, and Isabela almost chokes in surprise.
It’s a girl.
Granted, she has strange markings, almost like tattoos, all over her face, and her ears are shaped like fins, but nonetheless, Isabela is undoubtedly staring at a person.
A person with a fish tail.
“Hello!” the girl says in a lilting Welsh accent. “Are you and your friends alright? I saw the shipwreck a few days ago. Nasty one, that was.”
For a few seconds, Isabela just stares, dumbfounded. Then, snapping back into reality, she shakes her head and replies, “I, uh—yes, we’re all fine. What is—who—what are you?” If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was hallucinating, but she didn’t drink that much last night (the more sober she is, the better she is at cards), and she hasn’t drank at all today. Two equally distressing thoughts cross her mind: One, she shouldn’t be hallucinating; and two, she’s fairly certain that she isn’t.
“Oh! Sorry,” the girl says. “I take it you’ve never met a mermaid before? I suppose you wouldn’t have; we mostly keep to ourselves.”
Isabela blinks a few times, but the girl—the mermaid—doesn’t disappear. “No,” she says indignantly. “I’ve never even heard of you except for in stories. Fictional stories. You know, mythology and such.”
“All stories contain some element of truth in them,” the girl replies, matter-of-fact.
Isabela frowns and thinks back to when she and her crew first ended up on the beach. Captain, I know you’ll never believe me, Varric had said to her, but I think I saw a...a siren or a mermaid or something. When she called bullshit, he’d added, I was underwater, and then I felt these soft, small hands grabbing my wrists and pulling me to shore. When I opened my eyes, I swear I saw some half-human, half-fish thing diving back into the sea.
She hadn’t taken him seriously, of course, but why would she? Even if she’d believed in mermaids, Varric is always making up fanciful tales; in fact, that’s about all he does. How was she to know that he might have actually been telling the truth for once in his life?
“You...you saved one of my crewmates,” she says out loud.
The girl nods. “Right, the stout one with all that chest hair.”
Isabela lets out a short bark of a laugh. “You noticed that?”
The girl shrugs. “How could I not? He seemed to practically have it out on display. But I thought maybe the storm had just messed his clothes up.”
Isabela shakes her head. “No, he wears all his shirts like that.”
The girl puts her hands up to her mouth and giggles. Isabela can’t help the astonished smile that creeps onto her face. She’s having a conversation with a mermaid, and quite a beautiful one at that.
“Oh!” the girl says suddenly. “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Merrill.”
It’s a lovely name, even lovelier when she says it with that pretty voice of hers. “You can call me Isabela,” Isabela says. “Well. Technically it’s Captain Isabela, but I don’t exactly have a ship to captain right now.”
Merrill grimaces. “Yeah, it was in pretty bad shape last I saw it. Is it getting fixed up? I noticed the shipbuilder investigating it the other day.”
“It is,” Isabela says, and then she laughs again as realization strikes her. “Do you know what I named it? I named it the Siren’s Call.”
Merrill snorts. “See, you were bound to meet one of us sooner or later.”
Isabela takes another few steps backward and sits down in the shallow tides, not even caring that she’s getting ocean water and wet sand on her clothes. Merrill swims up to her and lies down on her side a few paces ahead of her, letting the waves crash over her.
Up close, Isabela can see the way her torso gradually shifts from human to fish. The lower half of her body is one long, large fish tail that shimmers with bright green scales. Her top half is the same as a human’s, save for the ears. Isabela can’t help but notice that Merrill isn’t wearing any kind of covering, not that she really expected her to.
“Must be nice,” she says, eyeing her companion’s chest, “being able to just bare your whole self like that. We humans have societal norms that make it socially unacceptable for me to run around nude. Or even just in my smallclothes.”
Merrill giggles and makes no move to cover her breasts. “So I’ve heard.”
For a moment, they both just stare, each taking the other in. Then Isabela asks about the thing that’s been on her mind the moment Merrill stuck her head out of the water.
“So mermaids are real, huh?”
Merrill smiles. “Still in disbelief? That makes sense. Like I said, we’re quite reserved. We’ve been hiding for thousands of years, right under you humans’ noses. We’ve seen what your kind can do when you discover something strange or different. Besides, for a long time there was never really much reason for our paths to cross, us living in the ocean and you all living on land.”
Isabela narrows her eyes. “Then why did you save Varric? Why are you even talking to me?”
“We save sailors every once in a while,” Merrill explains. “They’re usually unconscious by that time anyway, or they think whatever they saw or felt was a trick of the mind, especially when they’re alone. As for why I’m talking to you…” She drums her fingers thoughtfully against the wet sand. “You seemed...different. I saw the way you’d sit out here for hours, just staring at the sea. I could tell you longed for it. You reminded me of...well, of a mermaid. You belong to the ocean, just like we do.”
Isabela’s mouth curls into a soft smile. “I suppose you’re right, Merrill,” she says, staring dreamily into the distance. “I suppose you’re right.”
After a short pause, Merrill adds, “Your looks didn’t hurt, either.”
That snaps her back immediately, and when she glances back over at the seemingly innocent sea maiden, Isabela notices a playful glint in her wide green eyes.
The smile on her face shifts into a delighted smirk. Two can play at that game. “Tell me, kitten,” she says, the nickname springing to her lips and sounding perfect as soon as it leaves her mouth, “how would one go about pleasuring a mermaid?”
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Tiny Scenes: Sea Salt???
have a good day/night!!
@/ink-fireplace-coffee
Sorry for the SUPER late reply, Carmen. I had zero ideas for this, and still don't, really. But I'm going to try anyways. Okay, this is probably going to turn out horribly, because I have no idea what I'm doing, but I wanna try, since I'm bored out of my mind, lmao.
Note: I have absolutely no idea what the context of this scene is, lmao. I just started writing and words started happening. Literally no clue what's going on here, so please don't ask, or assume that any of this is in any way canon.
Scene under the cut!
Fallon stood on the bow of the ship, looking out over the ocean. The sea was calm, and after several days at sea, she found the gentle rolling of the deck almost comforting. Every once in a while, a light spray of salt water would mist her face, and she could feel the salt drying on her skin.
She closed her eyes, feeling the sea breeze against her skin, letting it toy with her hair. She'd never really traveled by ship before. Never had a reason to. In fact, she'd hardly left Anvia. And here she was, standing on a ship headed to not just another kingdom, but another landmass.
What would it be like? There was no way of knowing until she got there, but still her mind wandered. Images of vibrant gowns and strange jewelry flashed behind her eyes, though she knew that Aurania's fashions weren't so different from Anvia's.
Opening her eyes, Fallon frowned as she thought of how she would be received. When she had accepted the Emperor's invitation, she hadn't hesitated. A chance to see another kingdom, another continent? Of course she was going to take it. But now, alone in the night, doubts nagged at her mind.
Would the people welcome her? Or would they begrudge her -- and Anvia's -- potential involvement?
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jeongvision · 4 years
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This is kinda funny lmao.
So my parents and I are addicted to perfumes. So when I read your reviews on Jaehyun's perfume collection, I went all sorts of bonkers to actually try out all of them bahaha.
And that's when I realised my dad uses Tom Ford white suede like PLS WHY DID I NOT KNOW THIS EARLIER?! Thus I clung to him all day and do the laudries just so he would let me touch his fave bottle of perfume. And EVERYTHING actually did pay off because THE SCENT WAS JUST SO GOOD TO BE TRUE OML. HOW DO PEOPLE AROUND JAEHYUN SURVIVE LIKE IT'S SO SEXY.
Ps. The fact that he might smell like my architect dad cracks me up for some reason. Also, my mother agreed on buying both the Jo Malone perfumes (she is curious and I saved up, coincidentally) and it's just a matter of time before I start spraying them on all my sweaters and cry.
RIGHT??? DOESN’T IT SMELL SO GOOD?? but i would say white suede is more boyfriend vibes with a leather jacket uwuuu i love it <3
omg you’re gonna get the jo malone? pls let me know when you do and i’ll cry with you bc i LOVE jo malone scents and the fact he uses them?? especially the wood sage & sea salt like that one is sooo refreshing and the myrrh & tonka smells like it’s been touched by the greek gods
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