#kinda citrus clean air

[ximerose]

space apparently smells like metals so that BUT mixed with some smokey residue from tartarus and a touch of citrus

What does my muse smell like?

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[dumplingsfordays]

30 strales

blade x florist!gn!reader

genre - fluff

summary - after you fall down into some metal buckets in your flower shop, a certain raven-haired customer happens to be walking by and helps you clean up.

cw!: swearing, blade kinda wants to murder you but ends up changing his mind because he likes uuu <3

note - i hc that blade smells like citrus. no, you're not getting an explanation, sorry lol.

and as always, thank you for reading!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

When you got your job as a florist at Petals and Pollen, you didn't expect this many people to talk to you - you were just there to make bouquets, but most of the time when someone came up to you to ask for a recommendation or advice on what flowers to give someone, your conversations would end in 'hey, are you free this week? I know a great coffee shop that you'd like' or 'there's this cute bookstore a few blocks away, wanna go there together sometime?' or just straight-up 'do you want to go on a date?'. Of course, you weren't angry or anything, but a part of you felt annoyed. Did these people come up to you only because they thought that you look nice, or did they actually want to get a bouquet and they picked up on your personality midway?

Either way, you always declined. You weren't really interested right now, and besides, you had stuff to do. Planning dates wasn't exactly part of your job description anyway.

But one cold autumn afternoon during a thunderstorm, a rather peculiar man entered the shop - his expression wasn't one of boredom or neutrality like most other patrons, it was one of rigid, almost angry determination. He stomped up to the counter with quick steps, long navy hair flowing behind him as he stopped suddenly in front of the counter.

"How do I say 'fuck you' in flower?" he growls. "Use any flowers you need. I have the money."

You blink a couple of times in surprise at the taller man, processing his request. You knew flower language, it's just that you were wondering who it could possibly be for - a nasty coworker? A disrespectful teacher or boss?

Deciding not to dwell on it, you nod and get to arranging the bouquet. From some nearby stands, you pick out some geraniums, foxglove, meadowsweet, and orange lilies, cradling the flowers in the inside nook of your elbow. You place them in a clear glass vase and tie them together with a sunset-red silk ribbon. You feel the man's eyes linger on your fingers as they knot the ribbon in a bow, and finally, you finish the bouquet and hand it to the man.

"120 strales, please," you say, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. The man quirks an eyebrow.

"No dahlias?"

"Dahlias? Why would you need dahlias?"

"Ka- I mean, I read that they meant disappointment."

You sigh. "Well, that book must've been wrong. Dahlias are a symbol of commitment, not disappointment. I think the author must've meant to write "yellow carnations", but I don't know how you would mix it up that bad. Should I add them?"

"No, that's fine." The man slides you the payment and, grabbing the bouquet, storms out the glass door to the shop.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Fuck!" he mutters under his breath as he speedwalks angrily through the crowded streets of Xianzhou, his delicate bouquet gently cradled in his arms. What the hell was Kafka thinking? He was going to bring this to the General as quote unquote "thanks", and she tricked him? Oh, he was going to kill her when he came back.

But this florist was rather... different than others he'd been to in search of a "fuck you" bouquet. They had a special sort of air about them, an air that he couldn't quite pinpoint but knew that it was addicting. Well, maybe not addicting - he just wanted to see them again, that's all.

Wait, see them again? No, he didn't do that sort of thing, he never wanted to up and start conversation with some random stranger that he saw once while buying flowers. He didn't spontaneously show up at their doorstep and ask what their name was - he only did that to his victims, and in this case, this person wasn't a victim. He barely even knew who they were (with the exception of the obvious title of "florist".)

What if they would become his victim, then? He would have a chance to talk to them without feeling guilty of doing so, and maybe murder them at the end. That's what happens to everyone anyways, how was one less person in the world going to impact him?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next day, a few hours after opening time, you see him again. He's calmer than yesterday, opening the door to your shop with a small squeak and taking his time to look around at the flowers you have on display. He pauses next to a small tin pail of yellow pansies.

"Those are pansies," you note. He turns his head sharply to meet your gaze with those blood-red eyes and turns back to the flowers.

"They're pretty," he says under his breath, lifting one out of the pail and examining its petals. "What do they mean?"

You can't read his expression at all - it's just neutral, with a small hint of fascination that immediately vanishes when he puts it back.

"They mean 'I'm thinking of you'," you reply as you pull some leaves off the stem of a tulip and throw them into a paper bag. He blinks in response and continues examining the various flowers, finally coming over to your counter a couple minutes later.

"I'd like some daffodils, please." He slides over 230 strales.

"The largest bouquet costs 200, you can keep the extra 30."

He stares at the currency in silence as you pick out the freshest daffodils and bind them together with a pale yellow ribbon, adding some white lace frills into the midst. You hand him the bouquet and he looks up at the nametag pinned to your left.

"y/n," you say. "Nice to meet you too, um..."

"Blade."

"Blade, okay."

You give a small, awkward smile. He takes the rather large bouquet from your hands and leaves the extra 30 strales, which you grab and run after him with as he leaves the shop.

"Blade! Blade!" you yell as you run after him. "You forgot your-"

He's gone, blended in with the crowd, probably, but you daren't go look - you have a business to run, and you already see some potential customers approaching the establishment. You decide to wait for him - if he comes back tomorrow, you'll give him the strales back.

As you're making a rose bouquet for a middle-aged man in a grey suit and tie, Blade pops into your mind again. His eyes were... eerily captivating, like bloodied dark iron magnets that pulled your gaze toward him. Combined with the fact that he was hard to read, and that you've never seen him before in your life, made him the most mysterious person that you'd ever interacted with. But a part of you wanted to see him again, to talk to him, to find out who he really was and what he was doing in your shop in the first place. Guess you'd have to see tomorrow.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Tomorrow was a mess.

You estimated that about 200 customers came in, most leaving with flowers in hand, and to your disappointment, none of them were the dark-haired, red-eyed, "fuck you"-bouquet-ordering man who somehow forgot that he'd left 30 strales lying on your counter before yesterday. By the time you had shut your doors, the floor was completely littered with little pieces of leaves and small, multicolored petals. Guess you had to stay after to clean up.

You pulled out your best weapon, a wide mop, from the cleaning closet in the corner and got to work. Pulling it along the tiled floor, you decided that it was rather boring to mop in silence, and pulled out another one of your favorite items - a pair of headphones, which you promptly connected to your phone and resumed mopping, now with a spring in your step. This spring turned into occasional hopping, which then turned into full-on dancing as you got caught up in the music.

Blade was watching all this unfold outside your shop, standing in the darkness and staring dumbfoundedly through the glass window. He was planning on murdering you tonight - it was horrifying that you were dancing so carefreely, without even noticing his piercing gaze on your moving form.

Abandoning the mop, you grabbed onto a column and twirled around it several times in musical glee before tragedy struck and you fell into a shelf of those goddamn tin buckets. Luckily they didn't have flowers in them, but they still hurt like a bitch - you tried pulling yourself up, only to fall down again and wince in pain as the metal edges of the buckets dug into your skin. Your legs are probably going to be covered in bruises the next morning.

You hear the door open with its signature squeak and a sinking feeling of embarrassment flooded your system.

"Need help?" the navy-haired man standing in the doorway askes, stone-faced. He stared at your trapped form blankly as you gaped at him.

"It's nine, no- ten in the evening," you stammer out, "how are you here?"

"Passing by." He feels a strange pang of guilt when lying to you. "You didn't answer my question."

You swallow and look around helplessly before replying reluctantly. "Yes, please."

Blade walks into the shop and grabs you by your hands, hoisting you up with ease onto your legs for a second before catching you when your knees buckle almost instantaneously. He sighs, lifts you up, and carries you to the nearest chair, setting you down like a fragile vase.

Blade's touch was comforting, and he smells like citrus, which is a very unexpected scent for him to have in your opinion. You thought that he might've smelled like- wait, why were you even thinking about this? The way in which his lowkey kinda attractive strong arms carried you was completely irrelevant to the current situation - why was your brain hung up on this while the poor guy has to clean up after you?

Speaking of cleaning up, he was almost done. He was now putting the mop back in the closet, and after he shut the door, you took this moment of silence to ask a question.

"Can you carry me upstairs, please? Just to my bed."

He freezes. You desperately hope that it's not a bad thing - your legs are starting to actually hurt and you don't think that you can carry yourself up a flight of stairs.

Luckily for you, he walks over and scoops you into his arms once more, carrying you with relative ease to the wooden stairs, which creak a little under your combined weight. You loop your hands around his neck as you climb up, holding on for dear life. When he reaches the second floor you thank him quietly, and he returns the gesture with a nod, turning on the lights by raising his knee up to flick the switch. The hallway fills with a golden light, and when you point to the door to your room, he heads there.

You hope that your room doesn't seem too messy - there's plants everywhere (which probably isn't that much of a surprise given that you're a florist) and the occasional book is lying on every wide surface like your desk and the bookshelf. Blade strides over to the bed in one corner, moving a leather-bound book aside titled "A Complete Collection of Native Bee Species" when he lifts the blanket. He sets you down onto the mattress with that same gentleness and you lean into the pillow, eyes already drooping shut at its softness. You turn your back towards him, and he takes this as a signal to remove your apron, which he hangs on a nearby chair. You, in your near-sleepiness, hear him sigh as he turns off the lights and closes the door, leaving you to drift away in peace. The scent of citrus lingers in your mind.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next day, as you're setting up shop, you find a note on the counter, written in black pen and a quick hand.

Locked front + back doors. Exited through window, keep the 30 strales.

[raid3r-r4bbit]

I cant tag you for some reason @acesatyr but I have typed all this up. I will get to fishing and foraging at some point, But this was already really long, lol.

I had originally written this in another word doc and realized I had typed over six paragraphs about seeds and germination alone. I really like farming.

Overall, this is mostly the generic info; I can detail or explain anything in depth, but I’m summarizing the important stuff, and the details are easily researchable. :)

A Revised and Bullet-Pointed Essay about Organic Apocalyptic Farming

Seeds, the basics:

-Stock up on seeds, they come in packets and are usually cheap depending on where you get them from. I like to store seeds in a mason jar, with a tightly sealed lid. It’s important they’re dry, and if possible, refrigerated. if not, any cold, dark, dry place will do.

-Germination is an easy process, DAMP (not sopping wet. DAMP) peice of thin cloth or paper towel, seeds laid out evenly, and put into either a ziplock baggie or something like a pyrex container. Again, air tight, low-mid light, warm (not hot, not direct sunlight) enviroment.

-if you see a lil mold it’s okay, as long as the root sprouts they’re still viable.

Plants I would Reccomend:

-Peppers are great because they grow quickly, can be canned or stuffed and add a lot to you meals and food. They also don't really take up as much room as some of the other plants i'm about to list. They aren’t the most filling and you cant live off of them but if you want to improve your quality of life or make a lot of money at the end of the world I guarantee you anyone who can actually cook or has the spices and foods to do it is set for life. I would legitimately kill a man for my mom’s pepperoni stuffed pickled peppers. I stabbed my brother over a jar once I am not kidding.

-Pretty much any kind of spice or herb really, I would HIGHLY recommend growing lavender, mint, thyme, and anything lemony or citrus scented, as I mentioned on a previous post, they’re good for pest control. lavender is a very temperamental plant, but most herbs, once ou get them going can be pretty hardy for lil leafs. Also, depending on the amount you’re growing of each most of them don’t take up too much space. Also basil cause it smells nice and I told you to.

-Corn, wheat, and any kind of grain is obviously a good idea if you want bread, but all of them are pretty difficult and require a lot of space. Potatoes are great because they can be used to make bread and alcohol as well.

-Zucchini, eggplants, tomatoes, and summer squash, and pretty much any gourd/melon/squash plant are easy to grow, but keep in mind many of these are expanding and/or vine plants and require a lot of space. They make a lot of food, but tomatoes and cucumbers in particular will actively choke other plants. Like vines wrapping around and leaves growing over top and roots entangling level of choking. Keep apart. but they’re good for you. eggplant, tomato and cucumeber are the highlight here.

-For leafy greens kale and chard are super easy to grow and grow pretty fast. Like any leafy green, too much sunlight will scorch them so be careful. I like to grow chard in an old (was some kinda biohazard barrel my dad stole from some pharmaceutical company, and cleaned out) cause it’s more than deep enough for the roots, but also wide enough to grow plenty. Also kale is high in vit c so if you don't live somewhere tropical you won't die of scurvy :)

-If you plan on raising animals or having a crop FIELD and not a PLOT, then grow long grass into hay, because it is good feed, but can also be used to cover ground to protect from birds. If you sow seeds by yeeting them into the dirt, birds will eat them if you don't cover them and you will die hungry.

-If possible, Alfalfa is also good for animals ( in small quantities) because they like it, or sunflowers. you can eat sunflowers, they produce a lot of seeds adn the seeds can be used as feed. ( same with corn.)

-Mushrooms. can be dried, easy to grow, grow really fast, and can be used as filler for meat dishes. (you can also grow the drug kind because it’s the end of the world and no one is going to stop you)

-tobacco for tabacco

AMNIMALS:

-unless you have a lot of very protected land you’re going to want animals that are small and potentially multipurpose.

-chickens are great because they dont need an exorbitant amount of space, can be used for eggs and meat, their feathers can be used for a number of things, if you dont like eating chicken guts (whats wrong with you) then they can be used as fertilizer, bait or as part of stock, and the bones can also be used for broth or to make small simple tools like needles or pen nibs. However, they actually need a more varied diet then you’d think. if you dont have calcium powder, their own unfertilized crushed up eggs, or scrambled with the shell is good for them once in a while, or chopped up leaves from your plants. Otherwise, a mix of corn and seeds is pretty good. DO NOT feed chickens wheat, oats or bread. Once in a while maybe, as like a super special treat, but too much can be harmful. Also, they eat bugs so they can just be outside if you’re okay with that.

-Goats produce milk, fur/wool (not all breeds do both, most don't do both, actually) and they’re more portable than cows. they also take up less space. A big downside is that goats are not only social animals, but they also need a good bit of stimulation and activity and they can be pretty noisy. My uncle built a jungle gym pyramid for his goats, but be warned, Joe Bob chewed his way out of the barn and needed rescuing from the top of the tower in the middle of a hurricane once. Goats will pretty much eat anything, and their poop is good for compost, Joe Bob and his siblings pretty much live off scraps and they’re happy lil dudes ( ladies actually, Joe Bob is the only boy)

-Rabbits! (the rabbit in raider rabbit is actually because i used to raise rabbits and am fond of them as a farm animal and because nobody can pronouce my name so they just call me Bun but we dont talk about that) probably one of the quietest animals you can keep on a farm, they can be kept in cages, breed quickly, can be used for fur, leather (rabbit and goat leather is great for making paper and cloth, not really good for protective leather) meat, and bones. The biggest issue I can see in the event of a wasteland survival situation is rabbits need a lot of clean water, salt and if you get angouras they pretty much need constant brushing. Be warned, if you dont know how to properly care for and breed them the females will castrate the males or eat her babies :) it is just a traumatizing as it sounds :) I speak from experience :) A good and cheap meat rabbit is the california white rabbit, they're about small to med size, and really simple to look after. Angouras are not great for meat, but their fur makes amazing wool. They eat veggies ( not carrots, too much sugar) oats, hay, their babies, and other leafy greens.

-Quail are something im not super familiar with that was my sibling’s thing, but from what i understand they need less space then chickens, and they’re good meat birds. eggs can be good for feeding other animals, but they’re not really good for much else. Also they’re really fucking loud and will fight each other so maybe not?

-Ducks are a lot like chickens, again, all of them can be eaten or used, and also eggs. eat more leafy greens and stuff and really like having somewhere to swim, better for more open environments. Ducks like to eat a lot and will get really fat really quick ( not a good thing) so be careful. however, if they imprint on you, they will follow you everywhere which makes rounding them up easy.

-Fish are great because their water can be cycled and the yuck water can go to the plants, which is great cause all that fish poop and algae is really good fertilizer. Fish are good for you and I love them. An while they’re not easy to port around, if you feed them micro worms or lil shrimps you can grow their food mostly indefinity and freeze it even. Also ive never heard any fish ( other than that one pufferfish) make noise. keep in mind, you will still have to maintain the water levels and the ph and all that, and they can take up a lot of space.

WHAT METHOD? HOW DO THE FARM? OTHER?

-this is pretty much up to you, I’m a really big fan of hydroponics, but i typically stick to “recycle farming” which is basically using whatever I have on hand and getting creative.

-if you’re going to use a plot of land, its a good idea to make sure you have a fence that goes around, over and under. Pests like groundhogs, rabbits, deer, ghouls, and myself will do more then just walk up and take you plants and animals.

-I recommend quiet animals that can be stored in cages and indoors to avoid larger predators, but any animals will attract them. Bears will break into pens, so if possible either store them INSIDE INSIDE, (like concrete building) or outside in a pen so you dont die.

-Living in the wasteland, or growing up with parents that think it basically is will teach you to utilize anything and everything. bottles and cans are great pots, old trashcans can be used if your dad wont steal chemical barrels from your local pharm plant for you, tires can be shredded into mulch, old rebar is my favorite thing for climbing plants ( sturdy, easy to stick into the ground and remove, pretty source able) Animal parts can be used for fishing bait or fertilizer, corn husks and other dry leaf litter can make good ground cover is hay isn't an option, ect.

-Plastic sheets and table cloths with holes cut in them for the plants are great for vine plants to grow through.

-scarecrows ain’t shit. Most birds are too stupid to notice and the ones that will are smart enough to figure out it’s not real pretty quick so all you’re doing is wasting good clothes and materials and scaring the shit out of yourself when you forget and look out the window and see a giant man in your field. Get a cat.

-it’s the apocalypse. grow weed.

How source plant food?

-poop and leafy plant scraps. animal poop, your own poop, your neighbors poop, poop. plant scraps, leafy greens, peels, rotten material.

-Get a big plastic tub or my favorite stolen barrels and shovel in some dead soil, layer in some plant scrap, dry leaf litter or corn husks, poop, leaf litter, and add creepy crawlies if you can. give a stir or shake every so often.

-avoid flies. as gross as it is, it’s a good idea to keep it warm, moist and humid, so very closed to avoid them.

-you can also add egg shells to give some calcium to your bug buddies.

-corpses.

What do I keep? how do I use it? (animals)

-egg shells are useful for a number of things, dried and nicely crushed they can be used for calcium for other animals. Or protection spells.

-bones for the same thing just don't feed the animals to themselves. I joked about this with the rabbits a bit ( a little cannibalism with them is inevitable and wont hurt them, but still) but cannibalism can lead to a lot of really bad neurological conditions that can harm you as well if you consume their products. Same with chickens, you feeding them scrambled eggs and shells once in a while is good for them, but if they start consistently eating their eggs you need to seperate them for a bit.

-fur and skin are great, esp for tanning, hides can make all kinds of things from paper, to water pouches and other bags, and fabric in general. being able to make cloth and leather is something a lot of people really overlook.

-Bones but for tools. Having a good needle and thread is really underestimated.

-Intestines can be used to make sausage, and other things.

-i will eat the chicken liver if you don't want it but it’s your anemia.

-make jerky/salted meat. both wont last forever, but you dont need to freeze it if you dont have power and will last longer then raw or cooked meat. salt cured meat lasts about 2-3 weeks, so if you’re solo or a small group and you did what i said and got small animals you wont be wasting food, and you dont have to butcher something every day.

-jerky can last a lil longer if stored properly, say it with me now! *air tight containers* you might get a solid month or so out of jerky, and it can mostly be rehydrated, or eaten as is.

-rendered animal fat or tallow makes good cooking oil, and while a little time consuming is not super difficult.

-make butter and cheese, not for survival, but quality of life.

Help I grew to many plants!

-can them, dumbass.

-fr though, canned foods can last a decent amount of time and can be really useful if you live somewhere with a winter, or can farm constantly. I mentioned already, but canned stuffed peppers are a favorite of mine, along with pickled eggs, which I make pretty regularly because a world without pickled eggs is the darkest thing i can imagine.

-feed them to your animals or back to your plants.

-throw them at your friends. (you haven't lived until you’ve hocked a rotten pumpkin at your little brother)

-dry them, fruit leather and veggie chips can be rehydrated and stored even longer than certain canned or preserved foods.

What else?

-learn how to purify water. there’s a million non tech versions, but in a sinch, the boil method is good if you just need to water plants. just dont pour boiling water on your crop.

-do use boiling water for weeds though. you can also feed weeds to your animals, but boiling water is just water, it’s not going to kill the soil or poison you.

-learn to fish and forage, theres a whole lot of things that aren't easy to grow or raise that can be tasty and good for you.

-learn to make fire. be prepared to put out fire. Dry crops will burn for days, so keep them watered, but you need to be able to burn exccess compost and cook.

-farming smells so bad. I love farming but animal poop, rotten veggies, innards, decay and compost, burning compost smells. if you cant stomach it and want the easy way out, thats called starvation or you better be beefy and prepped enough to raid others. or both, gorw your shit and steal from others, i dont care.

-forgot to mention earlier, but fermented foods like kimchi, kombucham etc are really good for you so yea. I might also teach you how to make kombucha cause my mom made me drink it so by god ill make you drink it too. ( i actually love it and it's good for making vinegar.)

-And forgot, legumes, like beans, peanuts, letils etc are really good plant protein. just not fun to grow, (ecept for beans. beans are actually very fun to to grow.)

[queenharumiura]

It's just me screaming about the primaniac perfume that came in. Ignore me.

Ignore the fact that I can never seem to get the lids back on properly where it isn't slanted. ANYWAYS!

IT CAME IN!!!! This is the Gokudera perfume where reviews have stated it smells like smoke and hospital. After reading that, you know my ass had to buy it -- for science.

In comparison to the TYL Hibari perfume, you REALLY smell the musk in this one. I think I can somewhat understand the 'smoke' smell that people were referencing. It's definitely not cigarette smoke, but it doesn't have that charred smell from a burning fire either.

To me, it has more of a subtle smell that you may get from the ashes of say-- incense sticks being burnt? Perhaps because perfumes are alcohol based, I can pick up on something that smells a bit antiseptic, which could be where the 'hospital' smell is coming from that reviews talked about.

The top notes are lemon, orange, and bergamot, which are all citrus smells, and I do smell it, I think. There is a quick tart/sweet kind of smell and then you smell the secondary notes which are floral, which gives it a more pleasant and soft scent. I think the first notes being citrus gives it a harsh kick at first which then gives way to the softer notes of the florals. It say last notes be musk and i'm like bruh--- it's mostly musk what you mean. LOLOL

The last notes are Amber, Sandalwood, Patchouly, and Vanilla and I might smell the sandalwood, not sure about the rest.

I think the reviews also said that it has a masculine and tough kind of smell to it. Harsh, but still a nice smell. It is very fitting for Gokudera, and I agree.

-

I'm too lazy to look for the previous post, but let's go over Hibari again using pictures I took last time.

As noted, this one has wayyy less musk than Gokudera's lololol. It's definitely more on the subtle side. I find it kinda funny because it's almost like Gokudera wants to assault your nose and then be calm. (Eye of the storm? NAY nose of the storm in this case). Hibari's is very soft and subtle.

The reviews be like: it smells of Japan. These are Japanese reviews, by the way. One said that it smells of high quality joss-sticks, and I can definitely pick up what they're talking about. It has a very similar smokey kind of smell to Gokudera's, but it's a lot subtler. It's very soft. To me, it gives me the vibe of smelling clean, and fresh air of an open field. Just- freedom.

Top notes are Lime, Mandarin, Eucalyptus, Pear. I def pick up the eucalyptus and I think pear. There is the most subtle sweetness to the scent, but it's also got a spicey kick to the scent as well. Which is likely coming from the middle notes: Cedar Leaf, Nutmeg, Clove, Lily, Heliotrope. I do smell a bit of floral, which is probably where the lily came in. The last notes are Sandalwood, Amber, Cedarwood, Patchouly, Oakmoss- and sandalwood, amber, and cedarwood was in Gokudera's as well, which is likely why i'm picking up a similar 'smoke' kind of smell to it. Which, cloud... smoke... I get it.

So the reviews basically say it's a calm and cool kind of scent. A smell that could totally seduce you on a busy train and LOLOLOL I'M NOT GONNA LIE BY DISAGREEING!

-

The Haru perfume. Now, I have to preface this is a perfume bottle from someone who bought it likely years ago because as far as I know, the Haru perfume didn't restock from initial release. This means that a lot of the scent from the perfume may have gotten weaker.

Still, I can try to smell it. Top notes are: Lemon, Cassis, Bergamot. You REALLY do smell the citrus in the lemon for sure and the bergamot. Cassis if I recall was like an alcohol, which- I won't be that surprised by considering perfumes are mostly alcohol based so.. yeah... all of them will have a scent to it. Middle notes: Rose, Jasmine, Muguet, Lavender.

After the initial hit of the lemon/bergamot, you are met with all the floral scents. I don't think I smell much lavendar (idk what muguet smells like) but I do get the rose and jasmine. Last notes are: Musk, Amber, Woody, Peach. I do think I smell the peach, which makes the lemon smell a bit less punch-y in comparison to the way it was used in Gokudera's perfume. (both have lemon and bergamot as top notes)

So overall, Haru's has a feel of smelling of flowers and also citrus, which fits the general vibe of what I HC'ed for her. I do like to think that sometimes she's got vanilla if she was baking as well. It's a soft smell, and it's got a clean kind of smell to it for a lack of better terminology.

Hibari's was also a clean sort of smell as well. Gokudera's def is not a 'clean' smell. NOT to be understood as it being a dirty smell, no, it's more so... that a lot of the scents kinda mesh and almost fight for dominance? Kind of hard to pick out what a dominant smell is or pick out what it is that you smell. So, as it's not so easy to pick apart, it's more... cluttered of a scent?

Yeah

I got the perfumes for vanity and science. Oh, this is also for: so this is basically how I envision how Gokudera and Hibari smell if I ever thread with them AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.

[voidbody-with-staticbones]

What are your skellys favourite scents?

Thank you for the ask!

All of them probably like pine and moss, due to living underground and in snowdin.

But individually? Whew, that’s a lot…

I’ll stick to 6 for now.

Tundra!Tale

Everest

Obviously, sriracha is up there.

Probably anything…warm?? Feeling??? Hot chocolate, cinnamon, campfire smoke, vanilla…cozy stuff. Crisp winter air is familiar, feels like home.

I feel like monsters have a stronger set of senses, and Magic probably has a distinct aura and smell (to some extent) so probably his brother’s. Makes him feel safe.

And whatever kind of memory stank that’s built up on his jacket.

Paladin

Probably just likes the ‘clean’ smell. …whatever that is.

Citrus, mint, eucalyptus, bleach-

I don’t doubt he’s also concerned about that last one.

He doesn’t like the absolute rank that Everest’s jacket has built up, let alone whatever the fuck’s in his room.

But his brother’s magic is calming just the same.

I feel like the new leather smell he might also like. He’s the kinda guy to polish his boots or his car seats every once in a while.

Tundra!Swap

Cobalt

In an ironic twist, he actually really likes blueberries.

After working on both his own vehicle, and at a mechanic shop for a while, the smell of gasoline and oil are nostalgic, and put him in a working mood.

Lavender is always nice.

Bee

Honey.

Also vanilla and cinnamon. Any kind of sweet, really.

Tundra!Fell

Stitcher

Mustard, obviously.

Cinnamon also, but more like the kind you’d smell in whiskey.

Cigarette smoke calms him.

He quit a while ago, but he still likes the scent.

Hadés

Crisp, fresh air is greatly appreciated on his end, being underground can stifle even that, so he appreciates the surface air.

Petrichor is another thing on the surface he likes- the smell before rain.

Sure, waterfall was always raining- but it never had that smell.

…it’s nice.

He likes oranges.

[cassyapper]

What would be Jotaro's and Kakyoin's "signature" scents be? It doesn't have be perfumes/colognes, it could be any scent that you would associate with them. And as a bonus, what scents would they associate with each other?

SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCH A GOOD FUCKING QUESTION THAKN YOU SO MUCH OKAY

kakyoin: lavender (particularly his hair), coconut (lotions), green apple sometimes, and sand (yknow the way dusty air tastes earthy? kinda like that)

jotaro: nicotine (the smell seeped into a lot of his clothes so even when he stops smoking it's kinda There), firewood, salt/sweat (seawater and yknow. him sweating), spicy deordorant/aftershave/etc, and also sand

as for smells each of them associate with each other in particular:

i think even after he stops smoking, kakyoin very much associates the smell of nicotine with jotaro and honestly he's a bit mad af about it cause he used to hate the smell but now he kinda likes it and he hates that cause he doesnt want lung cancer dammit but he likes the smell now. i think he also associates the smell/taste of metal, deodorants, and wet earth/rain with him (cause they met in the winter and kakyoin despite his best efforts is in fact a sap sometimes)

i think jotaro associates the smell of clean laundry like faded laundry detergent with kakyoin if just cause waking up and rolling over to see kakyoin asleep in their bed together has had an impact on him. i think he also associates the smell of any flower (not just lavender), grass, and citrus with him

hope this all makes sense...love them

[fated-fragrance-omegaverse]

dynamic: mostly alpha-adjacent, but with a bit of omega traits in there as well. they/he.

scents i can't stand: chemical-y artificial fragrances in the form of air fresheners, scented cleaning products, bug sprays and whatever those things are that people put in their toilet bowls to scent after each flush. not a big fan of citronella, either. and that smell in a high school girl's change room of too much fruity scented artificial deodorants, perfurmes and antiperspirants? olfactory hell. also hate the smell of chlorine.

scents i like: natural scents and earthy, spicy, herbal warm things like sandalwood, cedar, pine, cinnamon, nutmeg, anise, toasted sesame seeds, pumpkin spice, cloves, roast garlic, coffee, baked breads and pastries, anise, boiled candy, mint, rose, caramel, vanilla, chocolate and cocoa, sawdust, pine, smoke, frankincense, rooibos tea, warm milk, honey, barbequed and grilled meats, roast vegetables, caramelized onion, teriyaki stirfry, paprika, mushroom, damp moss, old leather, musty books, that ozone smell in the air before it rains/during a thunderstorm, sea spray, frangipani and hibiscus, rosemary, sage, lavender, the smell of freshly ground marijuana, whiskey and rum, hot spiced wine, citrus, baked apple

what i like in a partner/mate: someone like myself, aka someone who isn't afraid to laugh at some dark jokes or crack a raunchy one liner at a comedically inappropriate time. an adventurer and traveller, someone willing to find the fun side of life and take a few risks. affectionate, sensual, not afraid to get a little bit flirtatious and experimental (if you know what i mean, wink wink). preferably on the andromasc side, with a sassy boyish charm, impish grin, bit punky. all cheesy b grade movies and junk food binges, fast cars and long nights listening to music, talking about the weird eccentric things in the universe, sharing a joint or a glass of energy drink sipped out of the last clean coffee mug by the sink. kinda tacky, but able to make it work. not too over the top, though, there should be some rest and recovery between the partying but still able to keep it interesting. very warm and tender.

what i dislike in a partner/mate: not willing to come out of their shell and explore the world. too much of a stay-at-home type to the point that domesticity becomes repetitive, monotonous and mundane. i don't like when people can't find a balance between conservative/humble and wild/outgoing. if they can't take a dicey joke or get uncomfortable with heated topics, or are the type to get uncomfortable around my friends or become too possessive or clingy, it becomes offputting. however, i absolutely loathe feeling ignored or neglected myself and nothing bugs me more in a relationship than a lack of communication or disrespect for established boundaries and mutual comfort levels. dishonesty, lying and deceipt is a big turn off and long held grudges put me on edge. I also don't like having to be a 24/7 caretaker to someone else's emotional needs, especially if I don't feel I'm getting any tenderness and support in return. I value an emotional connection as well as a physically oriented one, and I don't bide well with casual hook ups or one night flings.

anything else?: nothing i can think of, other than the fact i like my scents and fragrances i wear on myself to be strong enough that even i feel a little affected by them. i like to feel that my own scents will affect my mood and either spice me up with confidence, or mellow me out and calm me down when I'm feeling heated and riled up.

Hi Anon! I love how much thought you put into everything!

Let's see, certainly a lover of the bold and authentic I would say. After reading through your post multiple times, I can't help but to think of Mulled Wine. Deep, warm and stands solidly.

I'd recommend you try the scents of mandarin to brighten and amber musk to heat you up with confidence. Clove would be a nice addition to keep it away from that overly sweet perfume smell you dislike.

I think with this smell combo, you'd walk into a room with so much confidence people will be begging to go on adventures with you.

[goldwill-writing]

In Someone Else's Skin- Chapter One: Erin

Summary: Inspired by “Tilikum” by Llama_Goddess. "Depoe is a janitor at Salvation Sanctuary, the one and only true sanctuary for aquasapiens. While it’s not what he imagined, Depoe is fine with this… kinda. One faithful day, they catch the eye of the illusive Erin. What follows is something they would have never expected."

Before Reading:

This work is intended to work as a writing exercise. The first chapter is similar to Llama_Goddess’, and for that- I apologize. Full credit to them for being what inspired this story. I heavily HEAVILY suggest reading her works- as they are all incredibly well written.

All characters in this story are original to me and a friend. The premise of chapter one and other basic details are based from Tilikum by Llama_Goddess.

Depoe and Erin are both the main characters of several other works in a string of AUs I’ve written to explore their characters for their own story.

This is not beta-read, and rocky, as all my first chapters are.

------------ “Please locate your nearest exit, the Sanctuary will close in 10 minutes. Thank you, have a good night!” The cheery tone that followed the usual announcements distorted somewhat and grated on their nerves. 

He grits his teeth and dumps the dustpan into his trash can, pulling a mop from the bucket they pull along behind them. A particularly large puddle of vomit had been completely ignored by the day-staff, and merely coned off for him to clean. They wrinkle their nose at the acrid smell, nearly gagging himself as the puddle leaves a stain in the faded, old carpeting. The lights had long since turned off, leaving only the eerie red “emergency” lights that lined the pathways. They huff, again, and douse the stain in chemicals that reek of fake citrus. He adjusts his name tag, giving a lopsided grin to the tag covered in fun stickers surrounding the name “Depoe”- which he’d always found fitting, considering where they work. Depoe went around the room, gathering the bags from trash bins to toss into his. 

As if on instinct, they avoid brushing against the large tank in the middle of the room. The room, which was one of the least visited for its intended purposes, held many cushions and couches. Its circular shape was to complement the cylindrical tank in the center of the room. The tank itself was a marvel in Depoe’s eyes, a near perfect recreation of rare deep sea reefs, dim black-lights to keep the illusion of the near pitch blackness of the depths alive. Informative props, signage, and wall decals are the only interesting things about the room, however. The dim lighting, the couches, and the cool air are the main features of the room that attract visitors. Parents bring their children into the quiet room to have naps and calm down from the excitement of the more… lively attractions. 

The room, in that regard, was meant to display one of the rarest types of deep sea sirens. Depoe chuckles bitterly at this notion. Erin, the allegedly “hauntingly beautiful” octopus siren, had never made an appearance before. Even most of the keepers had never seen her. Her pressurized tank held an impressive 600 thousand gallons of water, spanning 60 feet at its widest points and 30 feet tall, the hidden Goliath had plenty of space to swim. 

“It’s too bad the spoiled brat never comes out.” Depoe rolls his eyes, inserting some cash into the vending machine near the entrance to the exhibit. Snack in hand, and earbuds at the ready, Depoe staggered towards the tank. They plopped down on one of the many cushions in the room to take their break. 

Music fills their ears and lures them to a better place. Four years of college, another year filled with internships, and half a year of personal study… and this is where he lands. Up to their teeth in debt, mopping up various liquids and picking up trash that pompous assholes were too good to throw away on their own. 

His dreams tend to drown him, pulling him under waves of illusions, regardless of if he wants it or not. Their eyes glaze over, unseeing of the world around them, and they gaze at a nondescript spot in the tank. In their mind, they’re hundreds of feet underwater, or maybe millions of feet up in the air. Wherever they may be, he’s suspended in perfect pitch black. Their nerves gloriously unstimulated, no lights, no sounds, a euphoric lack of smells. He felt like he was in paradise. Until suddenly, he’s surrounded by brilliant lights. Sharp, unrelenting bone runs against his skin, and a sweet ambrosia on his tongue. A salty scent, as briney as the ocean itself fills his nose.

Depoe is dragged back to reality when his phone dies. They sigh loudly, crumpling up his wrapper in their hands frustratedly. On instinct he looks up without paying attention, only to glance up a second time, yelping loudly. 

“H-holy fuck!” He screams, scrambling backwards. Eight long, thick tentacles- all scarred and one a shorter stump- suction to the side of the tank. Two clawed hands press against the glass. A pair of glowing eyes lock on his. 

Hunger.

Pure. Raw. Primal hunger. 

Depoe freezes, chest heaving rapidly in a fearful exhilaration. She’s pressed herself as close to the glass as she possibly can. Her gills flare open and closed rapidly, pupils darting between thin slits and wide dilated black holes that eat up the startling radioactive green of her eyes. 

And above all, Depoe notes, she’s massive. A colossal behemoth that must be twice- no- three times his height. The base of each tentacle was no doubt thicker than double his waist, strong enough to crush his skull with a single flex. Long, black, needle-like claws are affixed to each thin finger. Her lips pressed together in a thin, expressionless, line. Black, purple, and blue speckles are splattered across her delicate face, her shoulders, neck, and collarbones. It was like someone had flicked a paintbrush at her pure white skin. Something deep in his soul, if he even had one, told him that if she did so much as peel back her lips, he would see a row of razor sharp teeth like ivory spindles. His studies told him that should she open her mouth, there would be several rows of said blades. 

Something stirred in him, like some pure primal instinct to run, to puff up his chest, to do anything. But his mind hummed with static whiteness, leaving him gaping at the illusive beast before him. Surely, they were the first one to see her in… well, he thinks it would be weeks, maybe months, at this point. Not even her keepers were successful in luring her out, the darkness of the tank making it near impossible to catch her on camera unless she chose to glow. He opened his mouth, gaping at her like a fish out of water. Suddenly, he found himself craving water as his voice lodged in his throat. Despite his fear, they pushed past it and managed to squeak out a greeting. 

“H-hello…” They stutter, unsure if she could even hear him. Her head tilts to the side before the glass is covered in black ink. By the time the filtration clears the water, she’s gone. The tank is just as empty as ever. 

“Depoe, are you on a walkie?” A crackling voice comes from the small device on his hip. 

“Well… it was nice meeting you… I guess.” They whisper to an empty room.

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

Links:

Depoe: @antholozities

Inspired by:

[tiredfuyu]

That Summer Day

a poem/drabble kinda thing i did during the summer about gojou satoru.

"That Summer Day"

We were frustrated with each other. We were frustrated with ourselves, really. This burning afternoon poked at our backs, really gnawing at the threshold. I couldn’t handle the weight of a murky heart, my cynicism, and hollowness of the world on this particular day. You couldn’t handle your saddening past that ate at the back of your mind, pressuring you to make up for it by staring into the future of others, on this particular day. 

Deep down, we knew we couldn’t do anything about it. We couldn’t make it slow down or speed up. It was an uncontrolled abstruse thing. This anger just faded into exhaustion. Laughing at each other, laughing at ourselves, knowing that this was all so stupid. 

The air stirring up a tender wholesomeness. The sweltering day had no chance against us. 

You sprawled down to the floor, letting out a sigh. Covering your eyes with the back of your arm. 

I left for a brief moment. You felt a cold tap on your arm. You calmly lifted your arm. I saw a beam in your eyes. It was an ice pop. You took the ice pop from my hands. I sprawled down next to you. Ignoring our sticky skins. I dropped my head to rest on your shoulder. 

We both relaxed in silence. I felt your chest rising, and dropping, and rising. I started paying attention to the sound of the insects chirping outside. My vision getting a little hazy. My heart warming. 

Suddenly, I was interrupted, being brought to reality. The half eaten melting popsicle you held in your hand was lowered down to my view. I smiled. I took the popsicle from your hands, feeling my fingers graze your sticky fingers, a drop of the creamy citrus liquid now falling onto my fingers in the exchangement. You swiftly grabbed my wrist and raised it to your mouth. Gently licking the drop that fell onto my finger. You lowered my wrist and let go. 

I began to nibble on the ice pop. I only took a few licks until I gave it back to you. 

I made myself comfy after that. Grabbing onto your arm. I turned to give a small peck to your shoulder, then faced forward again. Letting out a soft hum. I heard your last licks until you set the popsicle stick aside. You cleaned your hands with some tissue that sat aside, also discarding that piece of tissue aside when you were done. 

Your head dropped against mine. I now paid attention to our furin ringing just out the window. Drowning out in the memory of the day we purchased it together. How that day was the opposite of today, both of us holding each other so close to keep ourselves warm while walking around the night shops. Slightly wishing that I can somehow travel back into that day. In the midst of reminiscing on tender cold memories, I felt your warm hands grab and fold into mine. But I didn’t fight any of it. I didn’t even open my eyes. I continued to day dream and wanting to doze off like this, with you by my side.  

[dreamcatcherrs]

what catches their eyes/attracts them?; mcyt x reader

+ this is in no way factual information, only my very weird and specific opinions :)

dream:

free-spirited people

someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind

confidence, to a certain extent

someone he can be loud with

someone who will wake up in the middle of the night with him to go on a car drive to nowhere

the colour blue (dnf👀)

clean and fresh-looking clothes

satin fabric

big height difference

the smell of citrus fruits

large smiles

silver jewellery

small hands

smart people who aren't afraid to show it

george:

calm, laid back people

someone quiet, but still able to have a laugh

very friendly vibes - even when first meeting them

the colour blue (literally the only interesting colour he's able to see lol)

bright eyes

lip gloss

flower print

slightly shy people who are actually easy to interact with once you start a conversation with them

pastel-coloured nails, not too long

pink-tinted lips

ponytails

the smell of vanilla

puppy eyes

sapnap:

energetic people

someone who can hype up their friends no matter the situation

the colour red

like, a bloody red

soft skin

full lips

loose shirts over skin-tight tops

when shoelaces have a different colour on each shoe

corsets

a very subtle scent of perfume

thigh highs

someone who just wants to enjoy life with the people they're surrounded by

badboyhalo:

large, bright smiles that spread up to your eyes

freckles

button noses

rose-gold jewellery

french manicures

bangs

slightly shy people

genuinely sweet people

not the fake type that talks shit about people behind their backs and then will compliment them a few seconds after

someone who when they enter a room feels like a breath of fresh air to everyone else

someone completely selfless

the smell of lavender

shiny hair

technoblade:

people who aren't afraid to take the lead

glasses

intellectual people

like, for example people who know a lot of random stuff from a bunch of different things that they're interested in

or also just book smart people

slightly clumsy people (finds it cute)

gold jewellery

someone with some mystery to them

refreshing scents, like clean laundry or shampoo

cat eyes (eyeliner)

wilbur soot:

long legs

chokers

shy people

someone who gets flustered easily

glasses + thin bangs

the colours brown and beige together

baggy, comfy clothes

the smell of newly baked cookies

beanies

the kind of person that makes him feel like he can always talk to them - someone he can feel safe with

birth marks

accents

jschlatt:

smart people

the way they speak is just so clean without even noticing

fox eyes

people who aren't afraid to wear sweatpants in public

generally just someone who isn't afraid to do, say and wear whatever they want

someone who stands for what they think and have the balls to say it when needed

nose rings

simple yet flattering pieces of jewellery

long nails

someone who he can stay up all night with and never get tired of them

high heels

hip dips

corpse husband:

fishnets, of course

someone who give 0 fucks about what everyone else thinks of them

unique people

wether that be physical features or straight up the personality, it draws him in

chokers

chunky, black sneakers or boots

someone who can make him happy without even trying

a positive aura for the most part

as in he doesn't want to be surrounded by someone who’s negative or dragging everyone else down with them

the colour yellow

rings - lots of them

karl jacobs:

a walking ray of sunshine, basically

tbh, karl has a couple of things in common with what corpse is attracted to;

positive energy, uniqueness and rings

a palette filled with bright colours

like, almost rave style colours

that could be clothes, makeup, hair, nails, accessories

chunky, white shoes

selfless people

someone who as each day goes by becomes more charming to him

he likes the smell of candles from bath and body works, as we all know

the colour purple

skeppy:

big eyes

someone who’s able to make him laugh without even trying

tooth gaps

someone who has very playful, innocent vibes to them

and someone who can take jokes and pranks

people who walk confidently

the smell of strawberries

long eyelashes

someone who collects things others usually wouldn’t

someone who is very respectful to others

a mix between really comfy clothes and really feminine clothes

fundy:

someone who comes across as “different” than others

and don't you dare think of ✨I’m not like other girls✨ (I know you did -_-)

he just thinks people who think and act very different than others are very interesting

beauty marks

nicely shaped eyebrows

someone who finds mystical things interesting

fox eyeliner (yes, I put this in here because: furry)

someone who has unusual, yet surprisingly good taste in music

people who are constantly warm

red lips

the colour light brown, almost beige-like

quackity:

someone who gets his humour

someone like him, but more quiet and slightly shy

especially when on screen in front of an audience

sliver necklaces

the smell of flowers

dark, extreme eyeliner

loose clothes

freckles

piercings

someone who teases others and who can handle to be teased by others

the colour dark blue

punz:

the colour grey

a fresh fashion sense

yet still very comfortable fits

messy buns

someone who he just knows will be a cool person before he even talks to them

someone who just has that kinda vibe, y’know?

glossy lips

independent people

someone responsible and caring to others

tattoos

navel piercings

awesamdude:

cropped jackets

the colour neon green

hair put up in a bun

someone with a free nature

someone who is a complete wild card

like, someone who will jump over a fence just to get closer to a bunny they think they saw on the other side of it

loose strands of hair

clear nail polish

cargo pants

the smell of chocolate

slimecicle:

people who have comfort items

someone who knows random facts that no one else usually knows

people who have a unique way of thinking

passionate people

and when they talk about what they’re passionate about, they talk for hours

shorter hair

sweet and nutty scents

natural beauty

fluffy hair

honest people

but not brutally honest

the smell of coconut

eret:

eye glitter/shimmer

silky clothes that shine in the moonlight

platform boots/heels

long, flowy dresses

someone who does whatever they want

and who doesn't like being told what to do by others

the colours pink and dark purple

the smell of the ocean

someone who already knows how to live their life

stretch marks

foolish:

low-cut jeans

someone very silly who knows how to have a good laugh

someone very supportive of their friends

curtain bangs

long-sleeved sweatshirts

someone who loves food

puppy eyes

straight, white teeth

someone who is willing to help others in need

someone who doesn't talk badly about others behind their back

someone who knows what they want

jack manifold:

confidence

white, wide-legged pants

the colour light blue or just pure white

people who are very easy-going and fun to be around

someone who can fit into and understand anyones humour

an open-minded person who likes to hear from other people’s point of views when they have a different opinion than them

butterfly patterns

crop tops

oversized t-shirts

hair beads

tommy:

people who are just as loud as him

and at the same time knows when to be serious

the colours yellow and grey

people who are kind to everyone

creative eyeliner

fluffy hair

people who can get so lost in their own world, they almost forget about their surroundings

colourful accessories

someone who isn't afraid to be who they are

someone who has many passions and loves to talk about them

oversized hoodies

tubbo:

hoodies layered over skirts or dresses

frilly socks

people who are very adventurous, and wants to make their life as interesting as possible!

someone who can help him overcome some of his fears

charm bracelets

cute habits

the colours yellow and orange

dimples

the smell of almond milk and honey

people who twirl their hair unknowingly when bored or unfocused

ranboo:

someone who looks intimidating at first (he thinks people like that are cool as fuck)

but then is, like, the sweetest person he’s ever met

loves someone who can speak fluent sarcasm, just like him

he likes sass

glassy skin

fingerless gloves

people who act cocky for the fun of it

but actually don’t care about winning or losing or proving anything

simplistic earring placements

people who have hidden talents, and the more you get to know them, the more talents are revealed

people who don't gossip

____________________________________

tag list✰

@zayenz @terribletoothbat @0t0n1n @0125cm @yukiuheh @shinee-is-5-forever @regularnoceur @b01nk-b0w@christhebish@nutritious-emo-crackkk@bookishreid@giavanna-707 @reddiesmcdonalds@cosmins@vixxzial@autumnpleaves@paradigmax@meaganjm@shiningsunrises@moralofwalls@username1212131@gxldentaestuff@innitdream @televisionpresent38 @bubblyanis@zurami @highoffhockey @popinjaytaylor@196os@livsbaby@doubts-of-gold@bunlina@retrav @mcyt-is-my-life@aleaisntcreative @my-shitpost-of-writing @my-shitpost-of-writing @clownsdrowning @pissbabywastaken@shiningsunrises @tie-dyed-dumbass @death-by-rats@simpfordraco @bippity-boppity-boopa@neongreendaydreams  @vibin-by-myself@littlepotatos0w0@christhebish @pipp-poppz@btsiguess-kpop@prettysmallfries@hiyoko-kos@kenmxskitten@fudrudy@weepingartanimespy@rhino-zucchini@goldenstarofthunderclan@melonmarz@ubeicecreamisthebest@polaroidinurroom @ady-yoo@isimpforeveryone@edenhollandd@ineedtogetoutofhere@glitter-night @hamilsandersfam@mothheart-witch @wrong-exit@trashcanfullofdork  @hellfirepheonixx @marshmallow-babe@isimpforeveryone @ky50621 @randomcloud@wormie4k@dinonuggies50  @p4rty-t4ttoos@aspenthegremlin@book-of-anarchy @jeyacore @thetattooink@gogywasfound@millavalntyne@junob1ade@ubeicecreamisthebest@karida @i-have-paws-love@drvgonraja@eatasslikegrass@creamofweep@venusomega@lunarfedora@rowe-n @wreny24 @vincent-stargogh @floatingplanets​ @vernon-dursley​ @childhoodgrunge​ @fivxss @hexagonclash​ @crazyjuls12​ @littlebabysandboxburritos @shifted-dreams@lenamarie666 @reinyrei @sozvuchiy @weaslvy-mxlfoy​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @honeyglaazed @carisle-mikealson​ @ineedtogetoutofhere​ @twist3dtinkerbell@cracraforfandoms@angel-dazey @leia-starly @smiithys​ @squiddyyyy​ @c0wc0ww​ @animeweeb019284​ @m00-bl00m-k0le @stqrs-thoughts @jenlouvre @uhhhguiltypleasures​ @trappedchest​ @punzrights​ @trashgremlin36​ @cyberrsoot​ @elebeleb​ @k3nn3dis-crap​ @karlshoodies​ @rascal-in-banishment​ @heartbroken-writer​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @ihavenoideashelp​ @goldiefox1​ @bethybop​ @helluhru​ @venuzblr​ @pha5ed5tar50 @cscooop​  @bethybop @lunareclipse-13 @http-strawberryy​ @mahitophobic​ @ahmya-4​ @dracoscumwh0re @darkdaria1 @jiminifiess​ @orchardangel​ @shyorchider​ @cupcake54492​ @natsueyama​ @honeyconnie​ @notacardigan​ @maybeshroom​

[ttuesday]

Hello! May I request how the VDL boys would smell like. If you were to grab a jacket or a shirt from them and smell it, how would they smell? What’s their natural smell? Thank you! I love your account so much and I’m sure we all appreciate your time ❤️

Right so I’ve been going into photomode and sniffing each gang member and this is what I’ve came up with

Arthur

That rich, almost smoky scent of leather

A refreshing smell of vanilla he gets when he’s been out of camp for a while that makes you wanna huff his shirt

A faint smell of sweat that you only get every once in a while

Dutch

A basic cologne that you can smell no matter where you are in camp

Warmth

A heavy smell of tree trunks that doesn’t seem authentic

Charles

Clean air

Freshly cut grass on an early Spring morning

That smell from new carpets and rugs that’s very addicting

Hosea

A wispy, sophisticated scent of cedarwood

The earthy scent of a campfire a few hours after it’s been put out

When he gets dressed up, Hosea smells like cucumber

John

A dusty road

That smell you faintly get after it rains all day

Sweat mixed with some other natural scent that’s hard to pinpoint. You know you strangely recognise the smell but you can’t remember the name of it

Micah

That smell you get immediately after striking a match

A constant smell of gun oil you cannot get rid of no matter how many times you soak him in water

Tobacco that can sometimes smell nice but can also be very overpowering and pungent

Javier

A warm and inviting smell of lavender 

Charred logs on a campfire

That smell of home that makes you instantly relax

Bill

Burning wood

Like he’s had a mud bath but it’s a dry mud smell and not fresh dirt

A strangely comforting nutmeg smell that reminds you of Winter

Sean

Petrol/ gas

Pine needles with a touch of sage

Arson

Lenny

Smooth coffee that’s been freshly brewed

A fresh, citrus smell that’s kinda like tangerines but you can’t put your finger on the exact fruit

Sawdust

Trelawny

That new car smell

His breath is very minty to the point where you’re actually concerned by the amount of mint leaves he must be eating to keep the smell so strong.

The soft, very subtle smell of an old jumper 

Kieran

A natural rooty fragrance 

He smells kinda like what horses and hay smell like but it’s also very distinct to only Kieran. The good news is it’s more tolerable than that horse smell

Also you know when people say they can smell fear? Well yeah, Kieran stinks of fear

Pearson

The faint smell of a roast dinner that disappears the second you notice it

I’m convinced this man still has that salty sea air smell even though he’s been out of the navy for years

Whiskey mixed with regret

Uncle

He smells like someone who doesn’t know what a bath is

Yeast

Farts that kinda smell of eggs even though Uncle hasn’t eaten any eggs in the last 3 years.

Miss Grimshaw

perfume that probably expired a decade ago

cheese

like an old folk’s home

Reverend Swanson

an overpowering fruity perfume smell he’s probably ‘borrowed’ from one of the ladies and sprays on himself to try to cover other, less favourable smells

a damp scent that resembles the smell of vomit but that goes away in the later chapters

he also smells like a hint of cinnamon 

Strauss

that old book smell that’s very musty

crayons

chlorine which equally confuses and terrifies people

Abigail

a sprinkle of wintergreen berries

coffee slowly brewing

she smells like someone who hasn’t gotten a peaceful night’s sleep in years

Mary-Beth

orchids

freshly washed clothes that has a delicate perfume scent

cigarette butts depending on the time of the day

Karen

desert sage

the fleeting smell of roasted malt

every now and again she smells peachy

Tilly

fragrant soap 

creek plum

the crisp smell of wild berries

Sadie

the faint smell of roses that’s been overpowered by the smell of gunpowder

softly worn leather

sulphur that’s nicely complemented with rage

Molly

expensive perfume she put on about two days ago but the smell is still lingering around her

prairie poppy

varnish

[yuk1-tsukumo]

what jujutsu kaisen characters smell like ✧･ﾟ: * [sfw]

a/n: hi, there! this was actually one of the first things i thought about & headcanoned when i first got into jujutsu kaisen back in late april, but i was inspired to finally post it after seeing the version published by @yes-i-simp-for-2d-men. here's part 2 <3

w/c: 544

yūji itadori

unfortunately, he probably does smell like axe </3

buT if he wasn't the epitome of a teenage boy i could totally see him using a cologne that smells just like the beach

not in a sophisticated, wealthy italian man who only wears linen, kind of way

more like, boy who plays volleyball at the beach with popsicle-stained lips

on that note, i bet he smells like sunscreen too

he used to never use any but then one day nobara called him a dumbass, told him he'd get skin cancer and made him slather it on like a total mom

bonus: his breath smells like candy bc i bet he always has a jawbreaker or something in his mouth (o˘◡˘o)

megumi fushiguro

his scent is a perfect reflection of his quiet personality

he smells like a combination of dove soap, clean laundry & freshly-cut grass

can't give you the name of a cologne but his has vetiver for sure

i feel like he also doesn't use too much—you wouldn't be able to smell it unless you were up in his space

he lowkey does it that way bc he grew up with gojo dousing himself with cologne all the time & his nostrils hated it ☠

nobara kugisaki

her scent is definitely something sweet & fruity, in that very artificial way

it wouldn't surprise me if her perfume was one of those randomly released by 2000s popstars

maybe one from britney or taylor swift lol

the first fruit that came to mind was peach

but i could also see her going for citrus, apple or even mango ????

she probably spritz a fuck ton, too—she can rival gojo in that regard

i bet megumi's nose was scrunched up for a little while, when he first met her

he probably has fragrance fatigue now tho lmao

noritoshi kamo

something powdery and light, for sure !!!

if not, then something clean

my point is that it has to be sophisticated yet soft

probably gets it from a classy company with a minimalist vibe

i'm thinking specifically about byredo <3

maki zenin

i could totally see her choosing something marketed as unisex, like from calvin klein

but that also feels too,,,, simple ??? it's nice but there's not a lot of character

so maybe she'd go for a scent that feels more rugged

she smells a bit like city air, yeah—cigarette smoke, or leather, or petrol

but it's not overpowering at all, y'know? it's still nice !!! she doesn't smell like the curb LMAO

it's a bit masculine but still in the gender neutral territory

another one who would be very subtle with it, she only sprays a little

mai zenin

she kinda gives me the impression that she smells "older" than she actually is,,,,,,, does that even make sense

like, uh, maybe she was snooping around her mother's vanity and discovered one of those perfumes usually deserved for date nights or formal events, when you wanna feel sexy

so she's a teenage girl smelling like she's a woman in her 30s

i guess it would be something floral but 'dark'—woody, or even spicy

thinking of classics like poison dior or black opium

sometimes a girl just wants to emulate a femme fatale, so sue her!

[twiixr4kidz]

diamond is unbreakable scent headcanons!!

this is by far my FAVORITE series to do

josuke higashikata: hair gel and old spice deodorant

okuyasu nijimura: axe body spray and dollar bills

koichi hirose: suave shampoo

yukako yamagishi: really good shampoo and a sweet scented perfume (like sugar cookie or something like that)

rohan kishibe: a box of crayons and some kind of expensive, sophisticated cologne that makes him feel better than everyone

reimi sugimoto: strawberry milk

toshikazu hazamada: duct tape and the scent you smell when you stick your head in front of an air conditioner

keicho nijimura: salt and freshly mowed grass

mikitaka hazekura: a leaf pile in the cool late september air with a touch of sea salt taffy and strawberry ice cream (specifically the strawberry ice cream that doesn't have the chunks of strawberries in it)

shinobu kawajiri: this kinda tropical coconutty perfume

hayato kawajiri: watermelon soap and paper with crayon drawings

yoshikage kira: this really casual cologne that blends in with his natural m u s k

kosaku-kira: he still smells like himself, but with a hint of the cologne kosaku used (which happened to be a lot stronger than his)

tamami kobayashi: musty /j (he smells faintly of a handful of pennies and elmer's glue)

tomoko higashikata: citrus-y cleaning spray

yuya fungami: like a motorcycle

aya tsuji: high-end luxurious perfume

terunosuke miyamoto: brown sugar and cinnamon poptarts

toyohiro kanedaichi: like the outdoors

[boytouya]

—Only Yesterday

pairing: aizawa shouta x gn!reader

w.count: 2k+

warnings: none!

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY AIZAWAAA <33 there’s like…weird sexual tension going on near the end idk why i kinda wrote aizawa like a hoe but. takes one to know one ig. shoutout to @mwilkrot for helping me pick out cat names💀

The café smells reminiscent of antiseptic and citrus as you wipe down the wooden tables for the hundredth time tonight, the damp, white cloth pruning up your fingers as flick your wrist in swift and circular motions across the table. It picks up nothing but air, all the crumbs and fragments left behind by your customers are now buried deep within the garbage dumpster out back.

All is quiet, besides the low hum of the central heat circulating through the establishment air. The vents waft a gentle wave of warm chocolate and even warmer (caffeinated) drinks. If it weren’t for the cluster of cats padding throughout the room, you’d be left in a room quiet enough to hear your own breath; to hear your own thoughts. And, perhaps, that was why you kept yourself busy with empty booths.

Purresent-Meow howls behind you, his large paws colliding with the hardwood floor in a quick, blaring, rush. Presumably off to find Erasercat, the tuxedo cat with tired eyes and an irrevocably lazy personality. It’s almost laughable, the energetic Tabby cat appearing right as the closing host articulates his goodbyes, transitioning the music playing from your speakers to ‘Put Your Hands Up Radio,’ starring Present Mic himself.

You huff, eyes flickering to meet your very own reflection in the window. Your gaze sweeps across your features, disappointed and maliciously calculating as air expels from your lips in the form of a long, tired sigh. You tap your finger against the polished glass, poking your mirrored image directly on the forehead.

Before a long, hard day of unrelenting customer service topples down on your frail wellbeing, you pull yourself off the table, your back creaking with premature age and strain. Your warm palms support most of your weight until you stand upright, passerbys glancing through the windows.

It’s ten till twelve, and you’re just about ready to dim the lights of the store, when the door chimes in greeting. Beneath heavy boots and purring cats, you hear crickets orchestrating for fellow creatures of the night. Central speakers crackle quietly, as a vaguely familiar voice sounds at the gradual end of the song bouncing off the walls of your café.

“This next song is for a very special friend of mine..”

Your heart leaps to your throat, thumping against your vocal cords as you stumble for something— anything, to say to the man gazing at you with dark eyes. From where you stand, glued to the side of a booth, you can smell ash and chilly November wind clinging to his dark clothes. His cheeks are a splotchy pink, but the grey scarf around his neck covers most of his face.

Even then, he’s undeniably Eraserhead.

“…Who’s probably out on patrol right now! Either way, it’s just about his birthday, so—”

His goggles are strewn across his shoulder, bright and almost as eccentric as the cat running over to meet him. Though expressionless, he still crouches down to offer his hand— and Purresent-Meow nips at his calloused fingers happily. There’s a slight tremor racking his hands, and you figure his costume is no match for the cold, autumn air.

“Hi! Welcome to Cuppla Kittens, what can I get you, Sir?” You swallow the lump in your throat, alternating your weight from one foot to the other. Your nerves are palpable, but the hero says nothing.

Instead, he shuffles to the small lockers located adjacent to the front door, and slips on fresh shoe covers. Most customers stay long enough to pick up their orders, with the occasional parent taking their child out for a treat. Even then, they use the recyclable coverings sparingly, which leaves you to clean the mess left behind.

His legs ache with fatigue as he makes his way to the front counter, quietly placing his feet on the hardwood flooring of the café, careful not to disturb the cats lounging around. The kitten-shaped floor mat groans beneath him. His clothed feet barely reach above the ground, dragging lazily beneath his unsupported weight until he, finally, leans against the showcase glass.

“What’s this one?” He asks, characteristically cautious as he points to the last slice of strawberry shortcake displayed next to an array of cheesecakes. It sounds much more like a statement than a question, but it seems like that’s just how the professional speaks.

With the overwhelming desire to release the last amounts of kinesthetic energy coursing through your body, you lean towards the man with your best retail smile. Your next choice of words clumsily wobble across your tongue, and he doesn’t seem like the owner of a sweet-tooth, but you indulge him nonetheless, “Strawberry shortcake, Sir.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, watching a gangly cat stretch out it's impossibly long limbs with a quiet yawn through his peripherals. All Meow scurries onward on his old paws, swiping his tongue over his nose and across his long whiskers.

Truly looking at Eraserhead, now, you can see the glint of amusement in his dry eyes. His gaze is downcast, his features completely relaxed with every rise and fall of his broad shoulders. His eyelashes are fluffy and long, batting against his cheek as he blinks down at the old, yellow cat.

“That’s All Meow.” You interject, soaking in the quiet huff of a laugh he responds with. His long, dark bundles of hair sway gently, and you wonder if it tickles the stubble on his cheek.

Maybe he’s ticklish. Your finger twitches in remonstration as you consider brushing his hair away from his face, tucking the long strands behind his ear to get a good look at his face.

“Give me your biggest cup of coffee. Black,” The bass of his tired voice snaps you back to reality as you blink away the decadent fog clouding your judgement a few seconds ago. You nod wordlessly, heading back to the pre-stocked coffee maker with extra energy in your steps. Only distantly, he grumbles, “Thank you.”

As you wait for the steaming liquid to fill the custom, printed coffee cup— the tallest one you serve— you watch Eraserhead lift his gaze to read the menu. Funnily, up close you hadn’t noticed, but his dark circles seem to rival the black, liquid death pouring itself into the sustainable cup. It’s almost comical, the tall man squinting up at a cat themed menu while the café’s residents rub their fur against his black pants.

Placing the lid over a piping cup of coffee, your other hand grasps at a few reusable straws. Every large drink comes with a free sweet, or, at least, if you’re Eraserhead it does.

“Aaaand..the clock strikes twelve! Happy Birthday, Shouta!” The stereo crackles at the shrill voice violating the café walls. Eraserhead stills as you walk forward, grasping his drink with careful hands. You look up at him with a wobbly smile, lifting the drink towards your face and back down. He doesn’t vociferate (not that he’s known to), so you take it as a good sign.

His fingertips brush against your knuckles, warm and inviting— but rough and tired from years of constructed experience and battle.

“…In a few, we’ll be taking a few calls to congratulate you on your next big milestone!”

“Thanks.” He grumbles, shuffling over to the nearest booth with his large cup of coffee in hand. In his own, it appears much smaller than it actually is, his large fingers wrapping around the cup as he sinks into a velvety seat. Despite the concerningly large cup of bitter coffee, the pro-hero remains fatigued as his head slowly droops into his palm.

His eyes, unbearably dry and strained, struggle to adjust to the warm, dim lighting of the café. And, before he knows it, the gradual rise and fall of his chest slows as he falls asleep.

He dreams of kind smiles and jumbled up words, the gentle collision of his hand against yours. And, usually, the underground hero would pull his hand aside, move back to his original spot or even blush from the base of his neck, but picturing the overwhelming warmth of your skin against his is, undeniably, surreal and compelling, even in his own dreams. Maybe, just maybe, he could get lost in it.

“…Eraserhead? Sir? Aizawa?” You gently shake his shoulder, placing a plated cupcake alongside his drink. It’s decorated to look like a cat, black and white, with yellow eyes and matching goggles made from fondant.

He blinks awake rapidly, dark eyes shifting to a striking shade of yellow as he looks up at you. The very subject of his dream. The second your hands shoot away from the porcelain plate and upwards in surrender, he registers his surroundings.

“Sorry.” He blinks, genuinely apologetic as he adjusts his seating position. The faux-leather he sits on creaks beneath his weight, and Aizawa, once again, finds himself sinking into the booth. He tears his gaze away from your all too sympathetic smile, and settles on the cupcake in front of him.

There’s a cheap candle towering over whipped frosting, leaning dangerously close in Shouta’s direction.

“I don’t mind, really,” You lean against the seat across the hero, bending over with a gently used lighter. He makes no move to stop you, watching as your hands ignite the lighter with a gentle flick of your fingers. “Happens to the best of us… Anyway… Happy birthday!”

Aizawa watches quietly, as the smell of melting wax wafts throughout the café and jostles the cat (Erasercat) sleeping in his lap— whenever he got there. His eyes close, aiding the burn beneath his eyelids for just a moment, as he leans toward the candle and blows it out. He can smell the burning wic, and it’s pleasant. It reminds him of home.

It reminds him of freshly washed blankets, that still retain heat from their recent round in the drier. Blankets he sleeps under, a lonely soul that’d much rather be alone with someone else; alone together.

When he opens his eyes, and only then, he realizes you’ve been singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him the entire time, under your breath as you watch candle smoke swirl throughout the atmosphere. It seems he can’t help but embrace the small, fond smile that graces his lips shortly after realizing.

“What’d you wish for?” You ask, now seated across from him. Your voice seems much softer, waterlogged with candle wax and birthday wishes.

“If I tell you,” He explains, breaking apart the cupcake into halves, failing to break eye contact. It seems the entirety of his life has been full of surprises, most unpleasant— but none like this. He grabs a napkin, wiping his frosted fingers across the gentle surface, gentle enough to give you goosebumps. “It won’t come true, will it?”

Shouta watches your eyes flutter as you process the image in front of you, seemingly breaking it down into savory slivers of mental fragments. And, for the first time in his life, hopes he’s someone worth remembering.

He listens to you hum in response, a symphony to his ears, as you shift in your seat. Picking up his half of the cupcake, he pulls out the candle and places it back on the small plate with tender movements. The silent encouragement leads your own hand forward, picking up your half with some sort of tranquility that wasn’t there before.

“Wouldn’t you rather speak it out into existence?” You ask, occupying yourself with the ridged cupcake rapper. as if it’s the most intriguing thing you've seen tonight.

That earns a quiet laugh, Shouta— the undeniably logical man, entertaining the idea of manifestation and birthday wishes. He shakes his head, sinking his teeth into the bouncy pastry. “I won’t need to. I think I’m pretty lucky with this one.”

WANNA BE PART OF MY TAGLIST?

taglist:

@ryoukuna @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @dilfchoso @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @mhasimp666 @princejasno @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shadows-of-nightmares @double-homiecide @y-infen @katsvgous @trailsnix @luckduckanon @oddball215 @toodeepintofandoms @devilgirlcrybaby @playb0ysuna @uwiuwi @yuzuneki

[palbabor-writes]

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός   ther·​mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating. 

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper. 

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic. 

It’s Toga. 

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks. 

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text. 

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well. 

Hmm, well this is something, at least. 

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C. 

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

 Fuck. 

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths. 

There is a heat advisory today. 

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good. 

Wishful thinking on his part. 

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all. 

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move. 

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner. 

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him. 

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down. 

You were out of town. 

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv. 

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment. 

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you. 

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too. 

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to. 

You’re gone for the better part of a week. 

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name? 

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies? 

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days. 

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you? 

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in. 

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets. 

You’ve got a nice smell. 

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now. 

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him. 

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours. 

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin. 

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance. 

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face. 

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly. 

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that. 

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo. 

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile. 

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation. 

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view. 

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head. 

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach. 

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his. 

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do. 

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes. 

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep? 

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm. 

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window. 

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them. 

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it. 

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you. 

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking. 

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now. 

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter. 

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl. 

There’s fuck all happening. 

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting. 

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.” 

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth. 

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind. 

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him. 

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close. 

He’s never been this close to you. 

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another. 

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him. 

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

 When he wakes again, you’re gone. 

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper. 

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.” 

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now. 

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed. 

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him. 

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching. 

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance. 

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down. 

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer. 

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals. 

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine. 

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress. 

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you. 

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar. 

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.  

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention. 

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display. 

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.” 

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night. 

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought. 

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front. 

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss? 

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice. 

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up. 

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright. 

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse. 

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.” 

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good. 

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in. 

Not without you. 

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him. 

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you. 

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time. 

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex. 

That sounds better than saying what he really wants. 

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it. 

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him. 

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him. 

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down. 

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face. 

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find. 

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw. 

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard. 

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin. 

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you. 

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.” 

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm. 

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness. 

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs. 

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you. 

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings. 

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress. 

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions. 

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close. 

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.  

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves. 

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air. 

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him. 

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt. 

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him. 

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist. 

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big. 

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.  

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?” 

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him. 

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds. 

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts. 

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.” 

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back. 

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully. 

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more. 

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions. 

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out. 

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots. 

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.” 

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes. 

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet. 

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution. 

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs. 

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets. 

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind. 

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°  

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx